welcome to what i hope will force me to write more often. pls help.
please keep in mind, especially for you pesky lil minors, that there is nsfw content on my blog.
i'm isa, and this is the post of posts. if you have any questions, then please refer to this post. im gonna start by answering a few questions.
what do i write?
this is going to be (for now, i think) a fanfic blog. i write chapter series, standalone imagines, and headcanons.
as for the content, i write x readers (primarily for afab! readers, but i'm trying to start writing for other reader types. i don't specify race for the reader). this can include fluff, nsfw, and angst content. no character x character (i have nothing against it, i just don't write it).
can I drop asks?
absolutelyyyy please do !!
also, you can just let me know how your day is, what's on ur mind, i don't care :))
what fandoms do you write?
anime: jjk, aot, hq, mha
tmnt: 2k12, rottmnt, mutant mayhem
i might add on more later, but this is it for now. as for the characters i write for, please refer to the masterlist post to see the fandom pages and nsfw rules.
how often do you write/do you follow a schedule ?
as of now, i don't have a specific writing schedule for this blog. i am a uni student, so i'll try my best to produce content when time allows.
thank you lovelies. i'll update this post when needed :)
Author's Note: Hello lovelies! I've returned with my first headcanon post. I hope y'all enjoy it! If you haven't watched any of the character's respective movies you definitely should if you get the chance! I apologize again for falling off the face of the earth (again). I'm on a break from my studies, so I have more time to write. If y'all have any asks or want me to continue any of my other stories, you know where to find me :)
Word Count: ~1.6k
gojo: naveen
y'all saw this coming.
like it was probably your first or second guess let's be real.
gojo has lots of expectations put upon him that he would rather not adhere to/just wants to be able to do his own thing.
the personality lines up pretty well. he's a cocky lil shit sometimes but he genuinely cares.
okay but SPECIFICALLY getting into though
think about this. naveen was only ever a prince to everyone around him. lottie only would've wanted him because he's a prince. dr. facilier only wanted to trick him because of his influence as a prince. even tiana's judgement at first was biased because he's a spoiled rich guy.
however, when he's not seen as a prince, he's able to have fun and relax. he discovers more about himself, and we sympathize. tiana falls in love with him when they're fucking frogs for gods sake, so she falls in love with naveen and not prince naveen.
i think we can all agree that if gojo were to have a long-time partner, it would be someone that sees past him as being the strongest sorcerer. someone he could cut out a separate life with. so it was upon this that i based my decision.
also lowkey, the scene where naveen set up a little date for tiana and was going to propose to her is gojo-coded to me and idk why. i could see him getting flustered and all that cute shit before trying to propose.
geto: kristoff
i'll admit this one didn't hit me at first, but i slowly found myself thinking this makes sense.
let's think about this right?
like sassy, hardworking man doing what he got to do to survive? right, right?
but he has a soft spot for those he cares about ofc, his found family and gojo sven.
also both are estranged from most of society both by circumstance and choice.
bet then idk just something about the scene where he immediately sees that anna might be in danger and he just rushes his ass over and across a frozen fucking lake.
idk
like it could be said for any of the characters listed, but i think that geto wouldn't admit or want to realizes that he cares that much for you until you're put into danger like that.
which sounds bad buuut at the end of the day when you're finally safe and the two of you are together he doesn't want to hesitate to show his affection for you.
both of them are just chef's kiss.
lmk if you agree.
toji: flynn rider
i know i keep saying here me out but HERE ME OUT-
there's just something about a hot criminal yk.
anyways, i was never thinking of this all along, but when i made this connection it sort of surprised me.
like, he would never approach your relationship romantically at first. there would only be something in it for the both of you before he realized he was royally fucked aka falling in love with you.
i feel like the only difference is just toji's over grumpiness but isn't flynn's cynicism almost similar?
furthermore, i think they both became the way they were because of the way society set them up to be with their born circumstances. but with the right person, they're willing to begin to go against that and what they had thought previously about themselves.
idk maybe i'm making a reach with this one.
just let him be loved.
nanami: shang
no brainer in my opinion.
both these bitches are GETTING DOWN TO BUSINESS.
but i def think the whole thing playing out between duty and heart would be an interesting dynamic for Nanami's character.
especially when talking about the SECOND MULAN MOVIE WHICH EVERYONE IS SLEEPING ON.
like i'm immediately thinking about the scene in the second movie where everyone thinks shang is dead and then boom he hops out all hot on a horse looking all disheveled and shit
then that got me thinking about season 2 nanami y'all know what im talking aboutttt.
plus having someone to challenge him but also introduce him to new concepts and ideas?? we all know he need dat.
anyways i love hot hardworking men.
yuta: aladdin
idc what anyone says this is the MOST accurate one.
both these dudes was in the TRENCHES when we first meet them, doing what they could with given circumstances.
but when it comes to getting what they want? setting out a goal and achieving it, whether that be to be with the girl he wants or save jujustu fucking society? yes ma'am he'll make sure it gets done. (even if they need a little help sometimes but that's besides the point-)
anyway, i think just the way he would treat you compared to how aladdin treats jasmine would be so similar idk. that sort of boyish shyness that he can get around you while still being able to impress everyone around him with his skillz.
brotha just wants to impress you doh.
he would do anyyyything for you.
choso: tarzan
barking for both of them i swear-
anyways, whole thing i was going after with this was the whole two worlds, one family thing yk? i feel like there are a lot of similarities with both tarzan's and choso's characters for it to make sense?
like he's been caught up in the curse world for so long, that when it comes to you, he needed/wanted to delve more into his human side.
he wants to know your interests, things that are important to you. bonus points if you were to be a jujustu sorcerer because you're supposed to be studying/exorcising curses.
choso really has to make a choice between you and his goals as a curse.
ofc, he's gonna choose you.
also, if we wanna get into to details. the scene where tarzan looks at jane? YOU KNOW WHICH ONE I'M TALKING ABOUT!!
yeah.
sigh anyways.
this one might've gotten a little too literal but i like it.
sukuna: adam (da beast)
okay.
yes the immediate connection was that they're both always angry i will admit.
but let's sit down and tinker with this mmm k?
everyone around both of them fear them. they were both cursed for the great power that they held.
now let's sit and imagine that we replaced him and you into belle and adam's situation? you cannot tell me that shit wouldn't pan out in a similar fashion.
i can irl that attraction to sukuna would not come immediately, but over time. learning about his past and him learning what's important to you, all of these things would contribute to your relationship.
but how could you love someone so terrible? so vile? someone who lived their life tormenting others?
now they said that to belle too.
but people, even monsters, can change under the right circumstances.
anyway, that got really serious.
but on a side note y'all were definitely having stupid arguments starting out just like in beauty and the beast.
and imagine if for whatever reason you saved his life.
oh brother he would never want to admit it.
of course, he would later be thankful for it.
belle and adam are probably my favorite disney couple also, so i liked diving into this.
itadori: hercules
THESE BABIES.
off the bat let's look at the similarities shall we?
both freakishly strong. both determined with a goal/called destiny from a long lost family. both new to the hero game and went through intensive training. both had cool mentors. both sweethearts.
but omg the way that hercules is so DOWN BAD AND IN LOVE with meg ugh. itadori is the same with you when you both meet fr.
and obv they are both extremely awkward but it's really endearing. aww.
but omg they would go BLOW FOR BLOW with any bitch that dare mess with y'all. whether it be some random ass man on the street or sukuna or a curse, itadori can FIGHT.
and we've seen the same thing in the hercules movie too ofc.
i think personality wise they are both similar matches which is why i made almost an instant connection between these two.
but they're also afraid of a lot of things too. they want to complete their goals but don't want anyone around them to die as a product of that. i feel that itadori's mind would think about that constantly with you, similar to how it happens with hercules in the movie and trying to save meg's life.
anywho
megumi: robert
okay now.
if you're thinking to yourself
who's robert
i need you to go get a disney plus subscription or on some random pirating website
and WATCH ENCHANTED
ONE OF THE MOST UNDERRATED DISNEY MOVIES EVER
and then come back to me and agree with me :)
now obviously it's kinda hard to compare like 15 y/o megumi to a fully grown, single father/divorce lawyer, but i feel like what that story represents in that relationship is sooo good.
megumi's had a very practical/cynical view on life since he was a child, as his circumstances forced him to. he does what he does to take care of his sister and still wants to look after her even after gojo comes around.
robert is someone who's also very practical and takes those views into everything to make sure he's making the right decisions for himself and his daughter. when his daughter asks for a storybook, he gives her a book on successful women. when asked why he hasn't proposed to a woman he's been dating for 5 years, he just wants to be sure in case anything falls apart.
but then you/giselle come along and completely break those realist mentalities, almost instantly. you don't encourage him to let go of what's important but rather view what's important through a happier/more positive lense. through those lenses, he falls for you, even when he never planned to.
like megumi's been through so much, but someone that could rework all of that and get him to relax would be the best thing for him imo.
anyway probably a weird one to end off on but yeah.
how many of y'all agree with me or are there any other ideas y'all had? 🥺
⁺ ୨୧ . ᕀ SUGARSTREAM ♡ | ˚｡꒰ gojo satoru x female reader ᨀ ꒱ minors do not interact ᨀ w.c 9.2k˓˓ explicit smut, camgirl!reader, fanboy!gojo, virgin killer!gojo, cherry chasing, sex toys, anal play, candy play [ gojo fucks the reader with a lollipop ], virgin kink, corruption, teasing, cum play, age gap [ gojo is 33 + reader is in 20s ], fingering, masturbation, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, dumbification, praise, orgasm control.
˚｡ SUMMARY ᨀ gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth, an insane amount of money to spend on his favorite camgirl and most importantly, a dick that corrupts innocent girls for life.
gojo satoru has a big sweet tooth.
he can always be seen ordering a frappuccino with five pumps of caramel syrup and extra whipped cream at starbucks, showing up to morning training with an entire platter of chocolate dipped berries, or suckling a tootsie pop with obscenely inappropriate noises during important meetings because the components in sugar stimulates his brain, giving the right amount of rush someone like him needs to keep sane.
his credit card is most swiped at sweet shoppes and random souvenir stands that sell his favorite melon sugar cubes, or the zunda and cream kikufuku he likes so much.
because his appetite for the sweeter things in life is insatiable.
that's why it isn't a surprise he developed a craving for you. he's always had a greedy taste for doe-eyed young women and you happened to be exactly his type. saccharine smile, giggly laugh, and a head full of bubblegum. ijichi kiyotaka's sweet little apprentice who skipped through the halls eating strawberry hi-chews for lunch instead of proper meals, wearing tiny little skirts and rootbeer flavored lip gloss just to torment gojo into wanting to lick it onto his tastebuds.
pure and lovely, you've become his favorite sugar rush.
and with the help of pop culture and social media, he can have a sample before he finally buys the product.
RECENT TWEET FROM @xoyoursweetenerxo: i'll be streaming in 10 mins wearing new lingerie! come take a peek at pixelme.jp/sweetener
that's the alert that begins gojo's unraveling, rolling into his notification center. his heart kicks up an irritating notch when he flips his phone over in his hand and reads your username on the screen. he can feel the curious eyes of his three former students on his back as they trail him down the hall, but he has tunnel vision and cotton ears, their incessant chatter echoing in one ear and out the other.
“gojo-sensei, did you hear anything i just said?” megumi snaps, his annoyed tone barely registering.
“i heard a rumor that he finally has a girlfriend now, that's why he's always so distracted,” nobara gossips into yuuji's ear, the two casting a long, knowing glance at their mentor.
“so it's like that?”
“it's like that.”
“what were you saying?” gojo asks distractedly, lifting one side of his blindfold to unlock his phone, bringing up the twitter app. his main account loads first and he spares a single glance to nanami's weekend vacation update, two for tsukumo straddling her motorbike in hokkaido, and none for aoi ranting about takada's dating rumors at the top of his timeline.
he never hears megumi's reply because he's too busy switching to his private account, an empty lurker with a black photo. eager to click your profile.
tonight's stream invitation is pinned at the top, decorated with pink hearts but he ignores that for now. making sure to hold his phone at an angle his nosy ass kids can't peek at, a long pale finger swipes up to bring the scroll down to a spam of grwm selfies you just posted, a ritual before your streams. you're cute as a button in each one, but it's the last one— on hands and knees, ass pointed to the camera—that makes him groan, the sound covered up by an exaggerated sneeze.
“um, gross!” nobara screeches at him, folding her arms and leaning away. “you sounded like a middle aged dad.”
satoru stops his long stride suddenly, masking his irritation by reaching into his pocket for his wallet, flipping the leather open for a spare credit card. he hands it to kugisaki with a pat on her head, grinning when she slaps his hand down and pockets his card without question.
“you know what? mission’s canceled for tonight!” he cheers, already heading in the opposite direction, shooting finger guns. he's eager to get away from his kids and to his office where he can concentrate on your stream. “go out without me and have fun!”
he waves off their confused looks, disappearing in a flash. attention glued to his phone like a teenaged boy. the sorcerer feels his cock twitch to life in his pants the longer he stares at your picture. you're wearing a skater dress that barely covers your plump ass, giving your twitter followers a tease of soft skin and cute stretch marks on the back of your thighs.
he knows that if he wants to see more, like the devastating visual of your slit spread around your favorite dildo, he'll have to join the stream and tip up.
not many people know about your other life. the angel who brings in sponge cake and iced coffee each morning to gojo, who shyly refuses to meet his stare whenever he walks into the room, unable to stand the intensity of his flirtations, is a camgirl with views high enough to land you in the top rated tab. people tipped you good and in return, you let them control your pleasure.
and gojo satoru is your biggest fan.
he hadn't been stalking when he found out. he'd just been passing by one of the staff rooms with the intention of terrorizing ijichi and found you instead, boldly streaming from your phone, whispering i bought my first vibrator! should i try it at work?
those annoying hot girls in your area, click for more! ads weren't needed because gojo had never made an account so fast.
and if he tuned into your grainy stream from his office, cock shamelessly fisted in his hand as he watched you push your panties to the side, phone camera positioned in an upskirt shot of you struggling to fit the small, vibrating toy inside your tight little cunt? mind your business.
he unlocks the door to his office now, shutting himself in before he clicks the streaming link, letting his phone redirect to the site so he can log in.
username: honoredone89
password: hollowedout28
"is the stream stable? hi, welcome! we'll get started soon."
the sound of your airy, girlish voice rings out from his phone as he falls into a leather lounge chair. you're streaming from your room this evening, dressed in frilly and frothy lingerie and a pair of lacy thigh highs, sitting up on your knees on a bed draped in a white gossamer canopy.
rosy led lights wash out the pretty tone of your skin in a soft pink glow, selling your sweet and innocent image. gojo figures that's why you're so popular— you feed right into their desires to turn out girls like you, drawing them in like worker bees to honey.
“how's my apprenticeship? it's going so good, thank you!” you answer a comment from one of your regulars, waving shyly at the viewers pouring into the virtual room.
“this won't be a long stream since i have to wake up early tomorrow, but...” you prattle on, leaning forward to check the viewer count. gojo's attention is drawn to the plump swell of your breasts in your bralette. god, he wants to run his lips all over the lace so bad; tonguing and biting over your nipples through the flimsy fabric until they're bitten raw. “while we wait for more to join, what did you boys do today-”
“ah, shoot. i almost forgot!” you gasp, twisting around to lean out of the canopy; opening the drawer on the nightstand.
as you rummage around, bent over, you accidentally allow your fans to admire the panties you're wearing. crotchless and lacy, the clips of a garter attached to your stockings. the backshot gives him a perfect peek at the shadowed seam of your pussy too, the little scraps of fabric on the front kissing your clit.
but more importantly, he can see the heart-shaped glass plug buried in the dip of your ass.
oh. well, when did you get that?
his tastebuds water, sweet tooth waking up for cravings. a quick decision made that he will stop holding himself back and get a taste of you, that he will be the end to your innocence.
in2feet chatted:
this is boring hurry up and get naked
nakedman chatted:
location? i'd fuck your ass so good kitten
it was obviously unintentional because your look of ditzy confusion is too cute when you turn around with the matching dildo, shaped like a sailor moon wand. but it ends up being the perfect way to begin your stream— tips roll in without prompting, chat pinging with comments.
“hehe, what are you guys- o-oh..” your question ends in a small sigh that makes his cock throb in his slacks. the air feels stagnant and warm in his office so he drags his blindfold down, unbuttoning the high collar of his jacket. you settled back on the bed too fast, the glass flare of the plug in your ass shifting, pushing a little deeper, twinging an unfamiliar lurch in your tummy. “t-to be honest, i've never used a plug before so it hurts a bit.”
a young starlet improvising on a mistake, you lift the wand to your lips. pastel pink tongue peeking out to wet the tip as you blink innocently at the cam. "can i put this in the other hole to distract myself from the pain?"
gojo can feel his brain rotting down to the stems.
you settle against the cloudbank of pillows, bringing your laptop a little closer to finish setting up and check the time. “before i start, i want to remind everyone that i'll only take requests from the highest tipper tonight!”
“you guys are so sweet!” the sound of the tip bell and chat alerts fill the volume of your room, drowning out your voice. lewd requests and thirsty comments begin to chime in, begging for you to remove your bra, show your pussy, play with the plug in your ass.
you have these men wrapped around your little finger, even though their hearts will be cashed out for real coins at the end of the night.
tittystan (★ tip) chatted:
play with those pretty tits for us pls
“is this okay?” your impatient thumb rubs over a clothed nipple, shivering at the touch. more tips fumble in and gojo can see you build the confidence you need to push your bralette down, tucking it under the curve of your breasts so they spill right out.
fuck... he can't help but imagine his large digits replacing yours, dragging the calloused pads of his thumbs over your nipples until you cry and his thirsty ass can drink up your tears.
satoru shifts, leaning back in his barcelona chair as he reaches down to press the heel of his palm to the swelling bulge of his cock at the same time you squeeze one of the fleshy globes into your hand, a soft whine whistling past your clenched teeth.
jacker82 (★ tip) tipped 250 hearts and chatted:
fuck yourself on the dildo alr!
you nod at the comment, opening your legs a bit only to snap them shut a heartbeat later. “i-i'm sorry, i'm so nervous tonight!” your teeth chew against your bottom lip as encouraging comments ring in your chat, words of praises that urges you to go further.
posessiveness burns green through his veins at the comments from other men, but he knows how to take what he wants and right now, what he wants is your attention only on him.
honoredone89 chatted:
don't be nervous. i'm with you.
honoredone89 chatted:
go on and open up for me.
gojo doesn't miss the glow of arousal in your eyes as you read his comment, your heart beating faster than it ever has. honoredone89... you missed seeing his comments on your streams. he felt more like a collaborator, unafraid to poke, prod, tease. the way he talks shit at you leaves you soaked and whining each time, wondering who he is; crying into your pillow whenever he'd toss down five hundred to make you cum, then throw down another five to switch up and edge you at the last minute. want me to change my mind, angel? he'd chat out and you could almost taste his smirk.
you would be lying if you said that your little crush on this anonymous person had nothing to do with him reminding you of the white-haired fox you were instantly drawn to at the start of your apprenticeship. honoredone89 could very well be one of those creeps that records cam shows to reupload to shady porn sites or a catfish. after all, his profile picture is the lower half of a (really fucking gorgeous) mirror selfie. but considering that a man like the actual satoru wouldn't return your silly, growing affections, you're fine with cosplaying.
“o-okay, sorry,” you obey him so easily, parting your knees, finally giving your fans a view of your pretty pussy in those crotchless panties. gojo should be ashamed, but he groans at the sight. you sigh as the cool air breezes over feverish skin, cooling the wetness clinging to your folds. it's why your fans love you so much— so wet during streams, no need for lube when your cute little pussy drools out the sweetest nectar no one has had the pleasure of tasting.
“look at you, sweet girl. you got any idea what you do to me?” you've barely shown anything and he feels like losing his fucking mind.
satoru should feel guilty for what he does next, but his conscious is crystal clear. mind blank and too fucking horny to think about propriety, he unbuttons his slacks. fishes his cock out to squeeze at the base, relieving some of the ache. his balls jump desperately as you slide the glass toy between your legs on the screen.
then his phone pings with a notif the moment you press the tip to your clit— a text from megumi dropping down, covering his view of the torturous circles you rub around the swelling nub. a swipe further down and you prod it against your entrance, panting out a low whine that knocks the wind out of gojo's chest, ears ringing.
“p-please let me put it inside!” you cry to the chat, noises so pretty. you'll sound even prettier when you're under him, squirming and pleading for him to fuck you until you live only for the feeling of his cock.
gojo's summer blue eyes scan over the message from megumi, ensuring his kids aren't in danger while he fucks himself off. he chokes off breathy groans so he can hear your moans, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb over the tip of his cock. muscles in his stomach twitching in pleasure as he nudges it inside the slit so clear, watery precum dribbles past his fingers to spill down the long length of his cock.
user20180407 chatted:
fuck yourself already i'm so hard!
instead of gojo replying to an annoyed megumi complaining about having to go to a pachinko parlor (yuuji's idea, no doubt) with the others, he taps the tip button before he can stop himself.
honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 1050 hearts
honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted:
just your fingers tonight, sweet girl.
"c-can i put them inside?" is your immediate answer.
honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted:
nope, don't think i want you to do that.
the unhappy comments from your other viewers almost gives him more pleasure than the feeling of his palm rubbing out his cock in rough strokes.
“okay, thank you, sir,” you tuck in with a soft smile. he knows you're thanking him for the fat wad of cash in your tip jar, not him snatching away your pleasure, but the sound of the honorific from your lips sends a zip of arousal straight down his spine. the way he fucks into his hand is messy now, dragging his hand up and down his dick. precum coating his fingers white, dripping onto his slacks. “thank you for letting me touch my clit.”
he's your highest tipper and your pleasure is always in the hands of your tip jar. setting the toy aside with the hope he'll let you use it later, you open your legs until your knees touch the sheets, joints in your hips aching. reaching fingers to the opening in your panties. you're so soaked, pretty lace all darkened in spots. you spread your folds, circling your clit with two fingers.
“oooh, o-oh.. it's not enough, please let me-”
“hope y'r this greedy when i feed you my cock, princess, fuck. gonna... give you what you need soon, don't worry,” he promises to the empty air, sweating hard beneath his jacket with his hand tight around his cock. imagining that he's got you right here in his office, fucking up into your pussy as you struggle to bounce on him. on the phone, his speaker rings with your frustrated whines. your thighs tremble as you rub your clit too fast, making it sore.
a few attempt to match his price and tip him out, wanting control over your delicious pleasure; wanting you to use the dildo so they can imagine the little toy is their cocks. but unlike the cheap fucks swarming around your chat, the black metal of his bank card is limitless. there's no one that can stop him from blowing hot cash on an even hotter girl so he does. doubling your tips, tripling it down each time.
the sorcerer has plans that won't be ruined by old men escaping nagging wives and stressful jobs by twisting their dicks to the moans of pretty girls.
at the end of the night, he plans on adding another maraschino cherry to the top of his ice cream sundae.
but that all depends on you.
now when did he close his eyes? on his screen, gojo almost misses it. the prettiest sight.
“c-can i cum, sir?” you simper to your fans, to him. “fuck me. it.. it's right there. please say yes, please please!” circling the pad of your finger under the hood of your clit where you're most sensitive at, you slide a hand up your body to squeeze one of your breasts. a soft gasp pushing out to join the squish of your fingers rubbing through the wet between your thighs.
honoredone89 (★ tip) tipped 2000 hearts!
user20221030 chatted:
this rich fuck is so annoying stop hogging!
gojo sounds like a maniac when he tosses his head and howls at the comment, unrestrained laughs choking off into a deep moan when he strokes down and squeezes the base of his cock. fighting off his orgasm for a torturous edge to himself.
honoredone89 (★ tip) chatted:
since you can't hold it, go on and show everyone how pretty you are when you cum.
“yu-yes, sir!”
gojo wasn't lying. even the lagging connection to your stream can't dim the beauty you are when you reach your high. it burns a hole into his brain, tearing shivers down his spine as he watches the band snap as soon as you answer his comment. it's real, but you make it pretty, arching off the bed, thrashing, clamping your thighs together as you cum with strained whimpers.
reluctantly, he takes his wet cock and tucks himself away, hissing as the sensitive head presses against the zipper of his slacks.
“did you guys cum too?” you're asking shyly, ready to end your livestream. gojo cleans his hand on his blindfold with a snort at the viewers complimenting your show.
user203020 chatted:
u need to block that rich dude.
it's unfair. not coming back until u do
cyberme chatted:
so hot, kitten. see you next time!
tittystan chatted:
don't go babe i didn't get to cum yet :c
sitting up, you wrap your arms around your legs, chin resting atop your knees. your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your little orgasm, but you pull the laptop closer with a blissfully tired smile to answer questions, goodnight wishes, and thank your viewers for their support.
“thank you so much! if you have ideas for my next stream, leave a reply on twitter,” you say distractedly, tapping on your laptop.
gojo's phone buzzes with a notification shortly after and he's not surprised that it's a message sent to his account on the cam site.
xoyoursweetenerxo ♡ :
hi >< you were my highest tipper!!!
do you have any requests for me?
is what the message reads and gojo wears a big smirk as the cards deal a lucky hand just for him. he cradles his phone in both hands as long fingers fly over the keyboard to reply.
no more time wasted after he's blown away hours, weeks, months on the chase for you.
honoredone89:
you know what? i think i do!
honoredone89 is typing . . .
honoredone89:
open your door for me.
404 error: this livestream has ended!
somehow, that leads to gojo satoru standing in the middle of your room at jujutsu tech.
you'd barely had time to fix your lingerie and clear the smudges of your lipstick before a familiar rap of knuckles was at your door— the same rhythm gojo knocks against your desk each morning to get your attention.
he looks out of place standing in the frills of your pink wonderland, led lights turning pure white hair the color of blush as he glances around at your bishoujo figurines, sanrio plushies, and special edition manga volumes.
“cute,” he comments with an amused smile and points, your cheeks warming as you follow his line of vision to the sailor moon dildo sitting on your sheets, forgotten. “where's the other one?”
“h-how did you know...”
“still inside you, i take it?”
“h-how!” your reaction is adorable, different now that you're in front of him. fiddling with the ribbons of your robe, unable to watch his gemstone blue eyes darken to a deep pit of arousal when you nod.
with the feeling of a hare caught in a trap, you watch as he crosses the tiny space to stand in front of you. crowding you against the kitchenette with his imposing six foot three stature. though you want to shrink away, there is something about him that beckons you closer like the limitless, making you want to stay close to him and soak up more of his attention.
“ah, um- i bought these for you earlier today!” you blurt out to him in a hurried whisper, scrambling to reach for the decorated jar of lollipops you intended to gift to him tomorrow. “there's cream, melon, cotton candy, there's matcha too because i know you like-”
“you scared of me?” he wonders, but he accepts your distraction, plucking a cherry-flavored lollipop for himself, amused.
“no!”
he's very attractive without his blindfold, snowy peaks of hair sitting wild over his forehead. you watch as he unwraps the treat, tasting it for the first time like he's tasting you, his tongue working around it; swirling and licking it obscenely on purpose. waiting for that shift, the shameful press of your thighs even though you just had an orgasm. falling for it, you shyly avert your gaze and gojo fights down a smirk.
“there's no need to be nervous, you know,” he soothes, hooking a finger under your chin. the deep croon of his voice curls down your spine, bubbling hot desire in your tummy. "i'm right here with you."
“i-i'm not nervous!” you say, wanting to reassure him that he is welcome even though a small voice tells you to run.
after all, haven't you heard the rumors about him?
compliment him in any busy ladies room and you'll summon rumors that gojo satoru picks cherries like a farmer. that gojo satoru fucks girls high in his penthouse, only to drop them low when he ushers them to the elevator hours later. that gojo satoru—
i don't believe it, and your naive schoolgirl crush on him bats those thoughts away.
“obviously a camgirl wouldn't be nervous, silly me,” he nods, tone light and teasing. he tilts his head to the side as he reaches for you, thumb easing your silk robe apart. sensual as he pushes it off your shoulder, a shiver rolling down your spine. “did you mean what you said?”
“what do you mean?”
“in your stream,” he hums, skimming up the curve of your neck. fingernails scraping lightly over your pulse, and his cock aches at the strangled sound you make. “when you begged me to touch you, fuck you. did you mean what you said, sweet girl?”
“the tipper... honoredone89...”
“was me, yes,” he points to himself, smiling. it takes a little while for realization to dawn and he thinks you're too sweet. god, after he finishes breaking in your cunt, he wants to protect you from men like him for the rest of his life. only after, though. “expecting someone uglier?”
where you should feel mortification, you feel sticky and full of attraction for the older man in front of you. how many times did you fuck yourself on two fingers while watching couples on cam, imagining gojo was there and pressing your legs to your chest while he fucked the inexperience right out of you? how many times did you wish that snarky regular on your streams was actually him?
“g-gojo?” you call softly, peeking up at him through thick fans of lashes. twiddling your fingers together in a gesture so fucking cute, it makes his stomach churn. “can i ask you something?“
“hmm? go ahead.”
“how many virgins have you fucked?”
“why? you wanna be my one and only?” he teases, a mocking grin set on his lips. “you're really a virgin... too sweet.”
“i didn't say that! i.. it's the reason i started streaming. to learn more! it’s an experiment because i don't know how to make someone else feel good.” you're babbling, the words rushing out too quickly as you fidget and grip the hem of your robe, looking down to avoid his eyes. “will you teach me?”
“if i teach you, don’t think i’ll go easy on you,” his grin is wicked before he reaches down to ruffle your hair, as if you’re a precious little gem to him. “it’s nothing to be ashamed of, sweetness. it just means i’ll really have to put my back into it!”
putting his back into it means fucking you absolutely dumb, but you don't need to know that yet.
the way he looks at you is an awakening. with a little burst of confidence, you make your own decision; burying your fingers into the collar of his jacket, bringing him down for your first kiss. it's a little awkward with the stick of lollipop in his mouth and your inexperience, teeth and stiff lips until he takes the lead. his lips feel like clouds and you want them everywhere, want to kiss him forever. sink his soft groans into your skin, keep the taste of candy flavored spit on your tongue for the rest of your days as he licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before; kissing you into dizziness.
“please,” you pull away, eyes begging— he only needs to be told once.
he takes it in stride, smirking around the stick of lollipop. he draws his hand down, fingers sliding under your bralette to toy with the doughy skin of your breast, rolling a nipple between two pads until the bud pebbles under his touch.
then his path switches, traveling lower and you know exactly where his hand is going. heart fluttering wildly, you whine and nervously press closer to him, hiding your face against the front of his jacket.
but you weren't stopping him, you didn't want to. curiosity coaxes your desire for gojo satoru out of its shell. the entire reason you started exploring the world of porn and cam shows, frustration and curiosity. most women your age had bloomed and blossomed. they were experienced while you felt left behind. never been taken on a date, never been kissed, never been fucked.
a clean slate for the taking.
“i wonder why you're so pretty, hm? been torturing me for months, sweet thing,” gojo nudges your feet apart, tongue pushing out the lollipop for one last suck, his lips star candy pink. making you want to kiss him again. “want to taste you instead.”
“you mean...”
“don't worry, i'll take good care of you,” he gently plucks your hands from his jacket, lowering his lithe body to the floor in a fluid motion. he props one of your thighs over his shoulder, shamelessly spreading your pussy open for him.
cheeks heated, the sight of gojo staring between your legs with a ravenous glint in his eye is too much. your hands fly over your eyes, but he's not having it; reaching up to snatch them down. “good girls keep their eyes open, don't they? how will you learn?”
he hasn't even touched you and yet, lust buzzes an ache between your hips that is driving you crazy.
“good girls deserve to know what it looks like, what it feels like to have me right here,” he continues and leans in to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. nips and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet yips. he slides a thumb between your folds, splitting them to play with your clit. you feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before you choke it off.
“g-gojo-”
he builds the anticipation. getting you used to the motion of something familiar before he opens your pussy for business— the sweetest dessert all for him before the main course. “so what do you think? gonna let me taste how sweet this pussy is, angel?”
“what if you don't like the taste?” you hesitate, hand slipping into the milky clouds of his hair. “i-i heard that happens.”
“trying to keep it all to yourself?” he teases, eyes shining as he crooks a smile at you. he indulges you with another feathery kiss to your thigh, his hand on your hip, caressing the skin lightly. “there's no way i won't like the taste of you. not when i have this-”
before you know it, he presses something warm and sticky to your clit, replacing his finger. when you realize just what it is, you whimper loudly.
“oh, oh god. y-you're supposed to use your fingers-”you point out halfheartedly. gojo drags the sugary ball of the lollipop against your clit in tantalizing swirls, smearing the sticky cherry syrup across your pussy and mixing it with your own juices.
“i'll clean up after myself, sweet thing,” he reassures, nose pressed to the soft curls at your mound, breathing in your heady scent before he tips his head forward to taste you. this is his favorite part- the possessive feeling in his chest once a virgin is on his tongue, knowing he's the first one to look up and see heaven above him. to hear your soft whimpers and feel the unsure tremble of your thighs.
“how does it feel? you like it?” he asks, kissing your clit with a gentle suck that tightens the muscles in your tummy. he licks against you with skill, tongue a warm wetness over your clit. the feeling gojo pulls from you is all new, butterflies between your hipbones as your cunt flutters around emptiness.
“i think i like it, sir. i-it's so-” you whine, the honorific a slip up. ashamed to talk filth to a man you're assigned to bring oversweetened coffee to every morning. it's so easy talking to the men behind your camera. they're blank faces that pay for a performance and to be soaked in the right words. in person, in front of the man who brings you alive, your tongue is tied up in the heat he licks into your throbbing pussy.
“sir, huh?” you can feel his grin spread along your lower lips, his chuckle vibrating against your skin. he stiffens his tongue for a harder lick, quick flits that bathes your clit in bubbly spit, burning pleasure into your nerves that drives you to tears.
gojo's fingers press bruises into your squishy thighs, locking you in his strong hold. he trails the syrupy sphere of the sucker down to your drooling little hole, nudging until he slowly works the candy up into your pussy at the same time he sucks your clit back into his mouth.
you choke out a wet sob, your hands pushing at his shoulders. squirming and trembling, plush walls clamping down around the hard ball of the lollipop with a wince as he fucks it in slow, his eyes focused on the way your walls slurps it inside.
nothing could have prepared you for gojo satoru fucking you with a piece of candy.
“bet your fans would love to see this,” he muses, releasing your puffy clit with a shameful pop, a trail of spit and slick connecting you to the sorcerer's chin. “you can barely handle a piece of candy. look at this cute little pussy struggling to take it.”
he can't hide his arousal when you taste this good, smacking and slurping like his last meal on earth is between your legs. you release a frustrated whine when he removes the candy, but he appeases you with his tongue— dragging the pink muscle down to curl it into your pussy, the squishy feeling of it making you squeak and grip the edge of the counter behind you.
gojo mumbles a deep groan, tastes so fucking sweet, curling his tongue in and out of you languidly, your squeaks tapering off into breathy pants. he's running out of patience, your noises shooting straight to his leaking cock, but he's determined not to rush. he wants to savor your first time. savor the sweet taste of sugar combined with the earthy flavor of you.
he has to make it good so you remember him after you inevitably come to your senses and make him leave before he breaks your heart.
his palm moves up and lands on your breast, squeezing too hard but you whine for the twinge of pain, placing your hands over his larger one. you hold him like a lifeline as he makes good on his promise of cleaning you all up— drinking down every little drop of candy coated slick until you run dry, until the wet slide against your folds is because of his spit.
“i-i'm-” the stretch of his tongue is so good, your eyelashes wet as you chase the sensation. second orgasm on the brink with his skilled mouth licking and suckling over sensitive nerves. you could end it there, cum on his tongue and let him tuck you into bed after, but you've had enough of not knowing what it feels like to be manhandled down onto a bed, kissed slow, and fucked open by his cock.
you want it to be him and no one else.
“you close?” he reels back, lapping at the entrance to your heat, a tease that makes you cry out. blues flit up to look at you, gaze soft and patient even though his desperation to be inside you has him fraying at the seams. when you nod at him, pushing your hips forward, begging, he grins. “didn't you already cum tonight? who taught you to be so greedy, hmm?”
“i-i'm s-”
“you think you can hold it for me? no, i know you can. hold it for me baby. don't cum.”
“n-no, don't! wanna cum, please please- wanna cum so bad!” but he's not hearing it. he pinches your clit meanly until the twinge of pain clouds over your orgasm, laughing lightly as you drive your fist into his shoulder in frustration, a hit that doesn't hurt him one bit.
he pats your mound with a smile but before he stands to his full height, he ghosts his sticky lips over your ankle as he sets your foot to the floor, teeth grazing the anklet you're wearing. a tender kiss that has no business making your heart flutter like that when he's so mean.
“i'll make sure of it, but right now i need you to save it for me, pretty princess. i promise it'll be so much better if you cum around my cock.” the sorcerer whispers his filth to your ear, leaving wet kisses along the shell. is it normal for your knees to be so weak? “ain't that what you wanted earlier? want something to fill your pussy up, don't you?”
you're so shivery that you hold onto gojo like your life depends on it. feeling wet and used between your legs already.
somehow, you know that gojo satoru is above what you're able to handle. he's a grown man with years of fucking under his belt and you're an apprentice parading as a camgirl who just had your first kiss. but really, it hardly matters when you want him in too many ways to care anymore.
“i want it, want it so bad, please!” you chant, prepared to get on your knees and beg for it while this otherworldly attractive man grins down at you. you feel like sobbing when he listens, circling his arms under your thighs to lift you effortlessly. legs cling to his waist as he walks the few paces it takes to reach your bed, splaying you out amongst the pillows.
“then i'll give it to you, sweet thing. but first, i think you'd be more comfortable in a familiar setting, hmm?”
he wants to film your first time.
it's filthy and you should refuse, but it's also exactly what you daydreamed of. all those nights honoredone89 watched your streams, you wished he was actually there. in front of the camera with you, back to his chest while he stretched you wide on three fingers and claimed you as his for all of your viewers to see.
you're too shy to actually let your fans watch you be fucked by someone else, but you let him hit record on your laptop, the pink camera at the edge of your bed recording a private show for your eyes only, but giving you the illusion of a livestream nonetheless. “don't pay attention to the camera until i tell you to, okay? eyes on me.”
after a small nod from you, he makes quick work of his uniform. unbuttoning his jacket to reveal broad planes of smooth ivory skin. shoving his slacks down, no underwear like you expected so his dick springs out, slapping warmth against your thigh.
it's easy to forget you're being filmed when you’re too busy gaping at him undressing. washboard abs taper off into a carved adonis belt dusted with moonlight hair. and with the eyes of a curious virgin, your gaze peeks down to his cock and it makes your tastebuds water. a perfect balance of long and girthy, the smooth tip blushing pretty and pink.
“can i touch it?” your dewy lashes flutter as you reach forward, wanting to know what the weight feels like in your hand. wanting to brush your fingers over the blue veins, maybe even dip your head down to lap up the pearly precum drooling from the head.
“nuh-uh, but you can feel it,” he sucks his teeth in reprimand, catching your hand and brushing an affectionate kiss across your fingertips. “alright, sweetheart. how do you want it?”
“i-i always imagined i'd be on my stomach,” you whisper, wanting to sink into your covers after voicing such a thing. a combination of your favorite fantasy position and wanting to hide your face from the camera.
“as you wish.”
he obliges, gripping your waist and rolling you over for him, front pressed flat into the pillowy mattress. though your hips are caged in by gojo's strong thighs, you wriggle your legs back and forth, cutely tapping his lower back with your toes.
“i-i hear it's better like this.” you mumble into the pillow under your cheek, just to get rid of the silence in the air.
he only laughs at your small talk, kissing your shoulder with care. “oh, sweet girl. i'll show you how much better it is.”
nerves flutter in your tummy at that, but you trust him more than anything— more than the women who warned you not to harbor a crush on him. he straddles your thighs, reaching into the pocket of his discarded slacks.
you hear the crinkling of a foil packet being ripped, all the air whistling from your lungs in a shaky breath as you twist around, embarrassed; catching him about to roll a condom over his cock. “w-wait-”
“cold feet?”
“no,” god, no. “i- please, you don't have to wear one of those.”
“yeah?” gojo snorts with a growing smile, but he shrugs and tosses the protection aside, caution to the wind and no further questions on it. blood rushes to his head quick now, dizzy as he draws your hips up a little until your ass bumps against his stomach. you're so easy to move, so cute and weak, like feathers under him.
his patience was lost long ago, but he's a team player. he gathers the seat of your ass against his palms, a soft peach that jiggles when he squeezes and kneads to the song of your whines, his eyes hypnotized by the jeweled plug. “you've had this in for so long, princess.” he draws a long finger down the line of your ass, tugging at the plug gently to see your hole spread. the remnants of the lube you used makes it an easy slide as he pulls it out. tossing it to the sheets.
he coos when you squirm away from him with a soft cry, hurts satoru, and he fucking loves the sound of his given name on your tongue. his thumb rubs over the puckered entrance to soothe the soreness. it would be so easy to sink his finger in, cock up next, but he'll save that for another night. “sorry, princess, i know. i'm just making room. i don't think you're ready to take both yet.. let me make it up to you.”
gojo keeps your cheeks spread, slotting his cock in the tight space between your plump thighs. he pushes the thick cockhead through your sopping folds. you can feel the milky pearls of precum smearing along your thighs and cunt with his thrusts, a wet slide right against your heat but it's not enough. “p-please-”
“f-fuck, sweetheart. how are you gonna fit me inside you? look at this.”
he's mean for teasing a virgin so much, but he can't help himself. he glances up at the recording laptop; the cam feed showing him your face pressed into the pillows, writhing all over your pretty sheets. fuck, you look so good. he's used to breaking in the starstruck beauties who flock to him, but he plays favorites now— fearing that once he truly has you, you’ll never let go of his heart, his cock.
“i don't- oh god- i don't know, but i want to try, sir,”you breathe out through your whines, the honorific only baiting him into getting your way, a true performer. “p-please let me try!”
“such a good girl, even when your fans aren't watching. if you want it, take it then. put it in for me,” he almost pleads, wanting to see that you want this just as much and you fucking do. too teased out to feel the jitters fluttering in your heart. you reach behind you, hand fumbling to wrap around his girth. skin feverish after hearing his heavy intake of breath— oh, you did that to him. satoru ducks his head to grip your chin and kiss all over your face, heated presses of his lips reserved for a lover. a distraction for you both as you guide his cockhead to nudge at the entrance of your pretty virgin cunt—
your eyes mist over, crystalline tears clinging to your lashes; losing focus after his hips sink forward. hiding your face in the sheets again, you muffle the depraved whimpers you hiccup out as gojo's cock forces your walls to spread open just for him. white heat slicking your body with sweat as you squirm under him on the bed. he's so fucking long, and he chuckles when you slide a hand down to your stomach to make sure you can't feel him there, too. he feeds you his cock slow so you feel every inch of him, bullying a spot to sit right up against your womb.
“t-too big- oh m’ god, it's too big satoru!”
“you cryin' f' me, baby?” oh, he is aching. no room in the little space your pussy gives him. he struggles to breathe, hair sticking to his forehead as he fights for his composure. he wants to treat you tenderly, break you in the right way, but you're a hot brand around his cock, sucking him in so good it drives him wild.
“s-satoru-”
“you feel that? much better than your toys, isn't it?” he kneels, pinning one hand over your back to keep you in place. “you can take it, cutie. just ease up for me a little, i've got you.”
you try to relax, eyes shut and sheets bitten into your mouth. you've never felt anything like it— the intrusion of his cock builds a pressure that none of your toys could've prepared you for. an overwhelmingly tight fit, you feel too full, in over your head. pussy staining his cock with frothy slick as he draws his hips back for an experimental thrust, an emptiness that makes you whine loudly for him to fill you up again.
“talk to me, tell me how it feels, angel.”
“o-oh- i don't... i don't know-” you gasp, leaning up on your elbows, a sensual dip in your back, the way you've seen the girls on the nsfw accounts you follow pose. the webcam films your fucked out expression and you're too cock hungry to care about it now, watching it shamelessly on the screen of your laptop.
“can't talk?” gojo taunts, digging his nails into the skin of your ass as he levels his weight into his hips and fucks forward. heavy, deep snaps that furrows your brow cutely, determined as you try your best to take him like you imagine the experienced women who are used to the oppressive force of his cock do.
“want me to slow down?” he asks softly, a little worried. after all, it wouldn't be the first time his dick knocked someone out. but you shake your head rapidly and he cackles, pairing that insane sound with deeper thrusts, sharp hipbones rutting against the back of your ass as he bottoms out again— too deep.
“wan' see your face, please 'toru, please,” you blubber into the sheets, but his keen hearing picks it up anyway. stopping is the hardest thing ever, but he pulls out; pushes you onto your back with a hiss.
“can't believe you wanna watch me break in this cute little pussy. what changed?” he goads, but he doesn't wait for your answer. “you know what to do.”
shyly, you wriggle down the bed until your hips are flush against his, reaching between the sweaty shadow of your bodies to handle his damp cock again. the stretch is no easier to take the second time, but you know what it feels like. pining for the slight twinge, the hot burn as he spreads sweet fire through your nerves. the weight of his cock fucking your pussy open in slow, teasing thrusts that leaves you whining.
“don't go easy on me-”
satoru listens instantaneously, pounding you roughly as he nips and marks your sweaty skin as his, little love bites along your neck you'll have to cover in the morning. something he never does, but call him attached to you now. “that's all you needed, ain't it? you don't want those sick fucks watching you. just wanted me to make a mess of this pretty pussy.”
“y-yes!” you cry against his shoulder and he buries his nose against the pulse point at your neck, inhaling sweet gulps of sex and perfume. a grunt kicks out of his chest as he leaves you, leaning back on his heels to fuck harder, your fingers flying to his forearms as he grips your waist, tugging you forward onto his cock to meet his thrusts.
you become a victim to his skilled fucking, to the harsh slap of his hips that a virgin has no business taking. thighs trembling up a storm, desperately trying to close as his cockhead drags along your gummy walls on the quick pull out, fucking your nerves to a red glow.
“you're so good for me, best girl. so good. keep these legs nice and spread for me so i can fuck this pussy the way she deserves.”
neither of you pay attention to the blinking red light of your webcam, too lost in the throes of good fucking. satoru can't keep his eyes off of you as you wriggle desperately underneath him. you're a mess; lips swollen and slicked with spit from your lolling tongue, hair splayed out all over your sanrio pillows while you stare up at him through teary, lidded eyes with the most fucked out look of adoration for the man pounding you, he almost feels guilty.
“s'toru.. satoru- w-will i get to cum again? it feels so- but i can't-”
he loses his final thread of sanity at your little pants and whines of his name. “some girls need it right here, d... don't they, sweet girl?” he says, stuttering when your pussy clenches him in on a good stroke. slick squelches out of you, staining your favorite sheets in a gooey puddle. it's how he knows his cock is fucking you at the right angle, brushed up against that precious spot nestled along your walls. your back arches high off the sheets when he hits it, but a big palm at your belly presses you down, refusing to let you run.
“it feels better right here, too,” he tells you, his hand shifting down. drawing sticky shapes of his initials under the hood of your sore, puffy clit— and you've touched yourself enough times to know what the feeling means. the pooling of sweet heat in your belly, the giddy waves of dopamine swirling in your nerves as a man throws you into your peak for the first time. “feel it yet? yeah you do. cum for me like a good fucking girl, make a mess of my cock like it's yours, pretty girl. give it to me.”
you're sobbing for him, clinging to him as if he can protect you from the force of your own orgasm. tears welling up in your big eyes as the knot in your tummy bursts so suddenly and you cum, walls fluttering around satoru's cock so tight it pains him to thrust through it. no thought in your pretty mind except the relentless pressure he fucks out of your body. overstimulation sets in too quick and you push at his stomach frantically as your juices splash onto the sheets, wetting all over his hand and bathing down the white trail of hair on his stomach. “i-it's too much, wait-”
“fucking.. fuck, princess- let me go or ‘m gonna cum inside you.. you're sucking me in so tight. f-fuck!” he is only seconds behind you, remembering at the last minute to draw back on his heels and pull his cock out of your weeping pussy. you're still shaking in the aftermath of the best orgasm you've ever had but he’s pinching your puffy lips between his pointer and thumb. it only takes a few rubs of his cock through your swollen folds before he whines low in his throat, grunting and tossing his head back as he spills thick ropes of opaque cum all over your pretty crotchless panties and ruined pussy.
“o-oh.. there's so much of it-” you marvel and when he opens his eyes again on the come down, hips kicking weakly now, he sees you reaching down to run your fingers through the cum he left between your thighs, pinching his sticky seed between your fingers curiously.
you're going to be the fucking death of him.
“yeah, that happens,” he chuckles with no breath in his lungs, no energy to tease you about it. he is too dignified to collapse on the bed with a softening dick, in need of a long ass nap, so he leans forward and pets the roots of your hair softly. “you need anything? besides a bath and your diary to give me raving reviews, of course.”
“i...” you start, sitting up and reaching for the closest thing that can cover you besides the stained sheets of your bed: gojo's uniform jacket. you drape it around your front, looking away to hide the vulnerability in your eyes. “can you stay until i fall asleep? you can leave after but.. i don't..”
don't be greedy, is what he would usually tell a woman asking him to sleepover after he's snatched her innocence up and fucked her into a limp. but with you, the sinking feeling in his chest, the months of pocketing your hidden smiles and shy flirtations to think about during his darkest hours, tells him only one thing: he wouldn't have left even if you asked him to.
“i'm not going anywhere.”
gojo experiences a first tonight, too. for the first time ever, he doesn't run.
instead, he stays. cleans you up with a warm towel and eases you into clean underwear, though you insist on wearing his jacket as pajamas. he even helps you change your soaked sheets ( with insufferable comments asking if he can keep them. ) you don't know what it means when a man stays after being your first, but your heart feels too warm and a little bit in lo—
“what's that sound?”
you're about to tuck into bed, ready to snuggle in safe and sound with gojo watching over you when his voice speaks up. now that your post-orgasmic haze has cleared a little, you hear it too. the quiet chime of the tip and chat bells ringing wildly from your still open laptop.
the camera at the end of your bed blinking lipstick red from its perch on the tripod.
like.boobs.97 chatted:
that bastard is so lucky.
“oh... oh, no!” you squeal, scrambling to shut the laptop down, face burning with mortification. you should have checked, you should have checked. you have to help satoru with his emails in the morning, why did you trust him to click the right button?
you've been streaming to your viewers on the cam site the entire time.
“whoops,” is all gojo says, carefree and flippant as ever as he moves to stretch out across your bed like an oversized unbothered cat, drawing you against his body.
“so, you gonna introduce me as your new boyfriend or what?”
Synopsis. You, heir to the throne and fated to be married off to a royal you’ve never even met. Gojo Satoru, your personal knight and the one man that will not let this happen. He will not.
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! princess! reader, knight! Gojo, childhood-friends-to-Iovers, PINING, arranged marriages, Naoya is awful, Gojo YEARNS, flower language, politics, slight víolence, slight angst, matíng presses, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, PÚSSYDRÚNK GOJO, oraI (fem rec), he goes FÉRAL, cúmming in his pants, manhandIing, spítting, biiig stretches, dúmbifícation, cúmflation, p talking, p sIapping, overstím, proposals, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 12.7k
A/N. What happens when ya let a girl listen to Golden Brown by The StrangIers.
“You are not to speak, you are not to look.” The king intertwines his decadently ringed fingers on his lap, the royal signet glinting pointedly amongst them. “You are not to so much as breathe in the princess’s way from tomorrow onwards.”
And it’s only with his hard-earned years as your knight that Gojo stops himself from shuddering where he knelt, head bowing to hide the clench in his jaw.
Though, surely something must have flashed across his features - because the next few words have a familiar warmth that twisted Gojo’s heart much more than his royal timbre, “Satoru, my boy, you understand that this is your duty? Yes?”
“I understand.” The answer is instant, as is the raise of the other man’s brows.
“And do you understand that this marriage is my daughter’s duty?” Your father barks out a disbelieving laugh into the barren throne room. “We wouldn’t want Prince Naoya getting the wrong idea between the princess and a- a knight.”
The words make his eyes prick wetly, and Gojo can’t help but bend even lower as he whispers. “I…I understand, sir.”
After all, it was the second thing that Gojo Satoru had drilled into his mind from the very moment he first met you.
The first being that he’s loved you ever since.
Which - retrospectively speaking - might’ve been an incredibly bold declaration coming from the scrawny, fidgeting six-year-old you happened to catch sneaking in and stealing lilac blooms from the royal garden all those years ago.
He remembers how you’d giggled, looking positively like a little blossom in all those gauzy layers of gown. Piping up from under the lilac tree he was latched onto, “My father says that’s not allowed.”
Gojo had fallen then - literally, startling about six feet from the branch he’d been straddling and straight into a scratchy pile of leaves with a dull thud! Back hurting, head spinning, it was a wonder that he hadn’t sprained anything, but right then and there he remembers thinking he was in heaven.
Because here was a pretty lil’ angel his age ogling down at him, speaking in a regal accent so different from his. “My father says that’s not allowed either.”
Your grin beamed down on him and warmed his skin even more scorchingly than the balmy rays of sunlight filtering in through the leaves. And for the first time ever in his life, Gojo Satoru had stuttered.
“Yer- yer father sounds stupid.” He had spit out, chubby cheeks puffing out the more you stared at him. What? He was sure he looked ridiculous with all those stray sticks and leaves stuck in his cloudy locks, but did you really have to look at him like…that?
“My father…” Your lips curled even further, as if you knew something he didn’t. “-the king.”
Oh.
Oh.
And it’s only then that Gojo notices the thin, silver tiara on your head, a delicate wreath of jeweled flowers that twinkled almost as bright as your eyes. It reflected specks of light into his gaze almost mockingly.
Idiot- it felt like someone had thrown a bucket of icy water over him that chilled him to the very bone.
Even at the tender- well, wise and sensible age of six, Gojo had heard from the adults in town all about the torture chambers and p-prisons that the royal palace was home to.
Just why did he feel the need to escape from his mother at the market to bring her a batch of those wispy, amethyst flowers anyway?
Sure, they were her favorite but- the royal family would have his head before even she did. And he didn’t even get to butter her up with the lilacs!
“Forgive me!” Gojo had squeaked out in a cry so shrill that you hurriedly took a step back, eyes widening once the interesting boy in front of you dropped to his hands and knees. “Ah- I mean uh- forgive me, your highness- your princessness.” Drooping into a bow so low that his soft tufts of hair brushed the warm ground. Words tumbling out a mile a minute, “It was an accident- I must’ve been um sleepwalking and I pinky-promise won’t do it again-”
“Those lilacs haven’t bloomed yet, y’know?” You’re cutting him off smoothly, and Gojo remembers feeling a pang of irritation- let him recite his apologies before you throw him in a cell, dammit! Right before flooding with confusion, eyes snapping up to meet yours hesitantly.
Pointing at a pretty white gazebo, overlooking the lake only a few meters away, you’d shrugged your shoulders. “The garden staff puts the best ones in a bouquet over there.”
At which, he’d replied with an exceptionally eloquent, “Huh?”
“Well, what my father doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
It’s only after hours upon hours of picking every lilac flower in sight and chatting about all the worldly topics a pair of six-year-olds knew that you were dragged away by one of your worried attendants.
And he almost felt…sad about it. Weird.
The yolky setting sun that day cast shadows for Gojo to hide himself in behind one of the gazebo pillars as he peeked at your retreating back. In-step with an older woman muttering about “losing her job oh- the king will banish her.”
And if there was one thing that he would never forget - well, amongst everything else - it was the way his heart banged selfishly against his ribcage with a repeated turn around turn around turn around-
You did. And you’d smiled, and Gojo hasn’t been able to step away from your side since.
Well, he had to - to go home that evening and proudly proclaim to his thoroughly cross mother how he’ll become a knight, that is.
Honestly, even the colossal lilac bouquet did little to deter her scoldings about running off. But despite how bad it was - and the fact that he was sentenced to be confined to his room for a whole month - it didn’t matter.
Gojo visited you the next day, too.
And the day after that, and the day after that- and again and again no matter how many times you’d teased him about coming so often to see you. Because you were right there no matter what royal duties or lessons dictated, waiting in the lilac garden for him.
Every day.
When Gojo was eighteen he’d applied for a position in the royal guard, breezing through the demonstrations of physical strength because of course, he did. He’d been training for his very day for years.
And it showed - oh, how it showed.
It showed in the way he stood almost a head above every other man lined up there, veering numerous inches above six feet. All sculptured, Herculean muscles and arms toned from years spent climbing the palace orchards with you. The strongest.
He considered himself exceedingly humble, too, of course.
Humble enough to not brag outright in your face once Gojo had climbed the treacherous way into being your personal knight before the age of twenty.
“Hah, I can tell your father- erm, his majesty all about where you sneak off to now.” Gojo snickered, flicking your forehead in a way that a princess simply shouldn’t be treated. “Perhaps I’ll bargain titles with him- tell the courts about the way you climb trees, and ride horses and-”
“Snitch”
“Harlot.”
“Knave.”
“Hobgoblin.”
“Satoru.” You’d deadpanned up at as six foot four inches of white-haired nuisance clinging onto whimpers out a dramatic ouch, that one hurt. Desperately trying to keep the smile off of your face, “You’re with me each and every single time.”
Well, was.
It seemed like the king was to be putting a stop to that very, very soon. With your looming- he gulps to keep the leaden ball of tears away from his throat, your engagement.
“Toru—” Your voice snaps him out of his hazy little reverie, and he finds himself straightening his back into a respectful posture outside of the throne room. Warily eyeing the way you bound up to him, “What did my father want to talk to you about so suddenly?”
“Ah…” Gojo’s throat feels hoarse. Parched. The smile plastering onto his face wobbly, “Just- just security measures for the visitor we’re going to have, your royal highness.”
Your brows quirk upwards, pretty lips falling open just enough for him to realize you were about to comment on his use of that. That title.
“Now if you pardon this knight, ma’am-” Gojo pipes up before you can bludgeon him with questions, striding down the luxurious hallway to his newly-assigned post at the royal treasury. Far, far away from your chambers. “-I have been called by Knight Commander Yaga to my-”
“Satoru- wait.”
He should’ve known better than to have thought he could escape you - not when even his own heart didn’t want to.
Lurching up in an almost-nauseating swoop the moment your voice echoes from behind, hitting his glinting armor. “You…are you okay—? You haven’t called me any of those silly formal titles since we first met.” Words practically dripping with concern, fuck- he was sure your face was furrowing. And if it was up to him he would kiss away every tense crevice.
But no, that was not his place.
His place was to stand rooted to the spot, face turning only a half-degree to grace you with a soft bow. Gojo knew it wasn’t the epitome of respect, but a singular look in your face right now and he would break.
“I am in perfect condition to carry out my duties, ma’am.” He’s nodding, voice oh-so-brittle in his throat for how hardened it thundered.
“That’s not what I mean.” Stubborn.
Gojo turns back to the winding corridor in front of him, “Then if that is all, I shall be on my way. I hope you have a good day, ma’am.”
“Satoru.”
And if his cheeks were cold and encrusted with a few streaks of salty tears when he reached the treasury, Gojo was only grateful that his fellow knight Ijichi was too afraid of him to say anything.
.
.
.
Gojo Satoru was avoiding you - marching the other way if he glimpsed you, running around the palace for menial tasks, he wasn’t even your personal guard anymore, for goodness’ sake! Your best friend was ignoring you and you weren’t sure why.
Was it because you had to skip out on your daily walks in the lilac garden to greet the visiting Zenin royals?
No, he was always so understanding of the royal responsibilities that you couldn’t skive off. Besides, his strange attitude had sparked up even before Prince Naoya and his family arrived at your kingdom - ever since that meeting with your father.
You were dying to ask the king what exactly was talked about that day, a meeting so confidential that he didn’t even have the royal advisor transcripting it. But your father was always so busy with the older Zenin couple these days, cooped up in office rooms surrounded to the brim with official documents.
And that left you with…him.
Naoya Zenin. A prince if there was ever any, who couldn’t talk about anything but that.
“So…um.” Your eyes dart around the palace gardens, you always did love it here - that comforting smell of flowers wafting in clouds around you. But right now you felt anything but comforted. “How are you liking the garden, Prince Naoya?”
He shakes his brown-tipped locks, eyes narrowing. “Rather plebian for a royal palace, if I do say so myself.”
“R-right…” You’re sputtering in an unlady-like fashion, “We do have orchards too if you wanted to-”
“Of course, the gardens in my palace are much bigger-” He’s waving a gloved hand loftily, nose crinkling into a sneer at the bustling gardeners planting beautiful white blossoms everywhere. Honestly, you were informed there was a grand ball soon - but wasn’t this a bit much? “And we teach the help to stay out of sight.”
“Both.”You fight the urge to just storm off then and there - it wouldn’t do good to start a war between the two most powerful kingdoms right now.
“Ah yes yes- nice.” Naoya repeats airily, words warbling as if he was biting back a laugh. “Suppose the low-borns are tolerable if they’re nice.”
A vision of Gojo - tiny and trembling into a bow in front of you - flashed through your mind, and you find your pretty heels digging hard into the dark soil. That was it.
“Perhaps.” Your voice comes out dangerously even, dangerously. Naoya only raises his brows in faint interest, “Yet, even the least tolerable tch- ‘low-born’ would be more tolerable than a pompous, arrogant-”
“There you are, your highnesses!”
Satoru.
You would recognize that low, lilting baritone amongst a thousand others. And before you can turn around to face your best friend that had been missing for days, he plows on, “A little gift- from this lowborn.”
Thud!
Before you can even blink, pale hands reach out to unceremoniously dump a radiant yellow flower crown on Naoya’s blond bangs. And you swear Gojo pushed down on his head harder than necessary.
The first thing you register is the warm wall of muscles pushing up against your back, lecherously counting every ladder of washboard abs and Gojo’s plush pecs in your mind. Mindlessly, you’re leaning back even closer, savoring the way his breath hitches. Harlot.
The second thing you’re realizing is that Naoya Zenin - for the first time in twenty-something years - had gone quiet. Very, very quiet. Suspiciously so.
You force your words into some semblance of levelness, “Are you…are you alright, Prince Naoya?”
But Naoya didn’t speak - you didn’t know if he was even breathing. Long face growing greyer and greyer by the second, he doesn’t answer you.
No, instead he’s pointing a trembling finger behind you. “You there…you- what shrub have you placed upon my royal head?”
“Laburnum.” Comes the answer - and just as soon comes a drawling, strangled squawk.
Your first instinct is to look towards the shimmering lake not too far away from you, eyes searching for any trace of those familiar ducks- before gasping in surprise and looking back to the prince. Mouth ajar, still making those undignified noises.
Him?
“You- you will-” He hisses, so furious that you have to take a step back - right into Gojo’s waiting arms - to avoid his flecks of spit. “-you will pay for this.”
In only a split-second, Naoya had thrown the flower crown onto the ground and wheezed his way up the flowery pathway back to the castle. What a sight it was.
But nothing compared to the way that Gojo comes into your line of sight and preens. One hand tapping at his cheek in thought, the other held behind his back. “Whoops- I forgot that the king specifically informed me that our honored guest was allergic to laburnum flowers. Guess, low-borns aren’t of good memory. Right, my princess?”
“Satoru- you- you ass.” You’re yelping through fits of laughter, not caring for the way the rest of the gardening staff smiles knowingly. “What if that bastard gets deathly sick? The blame would be on you.”
He rolls his summer blue eyes, “Proudly.”
“I should send you to the gallows for this.”
Gasping in faux shock, “Most salacious indeed!”
And for the first time in so long, it feels normal.
The breezing heat of Gojo’s body against yours feels normal, and you couldn’t bring yourself to think too deeply about it. Too enchanted by the sheer lack of armor - all billowy white poet shirt and flattering cotton pants.
“Y-yeah well-” Shit- why was your skin burning this way? The sun wasn’t even at peak temperature for today. Absentmindedly, you’re playing with one of his silk lapels, “Thank goodness we’re losing him in a few days, I asked mother and she said the Zenin’s are only visiting until the fast-approaching ball.”
“Princess-” It all comes out in a rush, “-that ball. The reason for it is actually-”
“Your highness! The queen is asking for a conference with you!” The curious voices of your maidservants drag you away from Gojo’s arms, into a much less scandalous position.
And yet, with only a nod behind - you still stay standing in front of him. You stay.
“Right…” Gojo’s prominent Adam’s apple bobs as he takes a deep gulp. Shadowy gaze darting away, “I should get back to my duties, ma’am. Suguru has been abusing his position as head gardener to work me like a mule.”
The way your face crumples with disappointment makes Gojo’s heart feel sliced open. And raw. “Of course. I’ll see you around, Gojo.”
Gojo. Gojo.
And of course he couldn’t let you walk away - of course he couldn’t let you leave his life just yet.
So without thinking, without even realizing, he’s clasping a slender hand around your wrist to pull you back. To reel you in. To him.
Velvety strands of snow-white curtain Gojo’s eyes, and the doughy fingerpads on your skin shiver. Mumbling, “Before- Before you go, my prin- ma’am. I just wanted to give you-” And you don’t know what makes your heart race more - the cherry-red blush painting all over Gojo’s cheeks and up to the very tips of his ears, or the sunny flower crown clasped in a hand pulled from behind his back. “-this.”
Your mouth drops into an awe-struck oh! It was beautiful - trickling blossoms of every shade of yellow entwined gently together. Embedded with celestially dainty buds of an amber so pale it looked almost white, diamonds on a tiara fit for a princess.
You had a feeling it would be your favorite one.
All you could think of was Gojo with his staggering hands, and his battle-worn fingers, making something so delicate for you.
“Is…is this one just as allergy-inducing as the other, Satoru?” You’re breathing, rustled by a breeze so gentle that it almost hurts.
“No.” Gojo whispers, just as quiet. As if the slightest sign of a raised voice would break whatever saccharinely thick moment this was, “Yellow acacia and yellow carnation. For you, my princess.”
For the way he’d be losing you just as soon as he loses that asshat.
And even once you’d adorned his crown and been hurried off by a few palace staff, Gojo stared. Even once you were nothing but a speck of royal satin and yellow crowns, he stared. Even once you were gone, and he was left so very alone, he stared.
Only thanking the heavens above that you always slept through your flower language lessons.
.
.
.
Over the next few days; wherever you were, Naoya Zenin was to follow.
And Gojo was sure that it was pushing the young royal closer and closer to a spectacular aneurysm any time that you called specifically for him to accompany you. Blatantly refusing any other knight that came your way.
The pointed third during “romantic” boat rides on the lake, always the guard overseeing dinners, the one to step in with a blunder if your future fiancé got too…opinionated. Gojo was always there.
It was more like you spent your time trying to make his dutiful façade crack than supposedly entertaining your guest.
Sneaky princess.
After all - Gojo found himself pacing and arguing out loud with himself any time you did - he was simply doing his job, right? Even if the aforementioned job went against just a few direct orders from the king himself.
But these were a direct order from the princess. His princess. And Gojo had stopped his procedural traversing and ranting since realizing this.
Although- the head chef, Nanami’s, veiled threat about turning him into pig feed the next time he heard stomping may have played a slight part in this, as well.
And it was on such a day that Gojo found himself stationed to guard the inside of the royal drawing room. Spine ramrod straight, eyes flooded with steel while he took in the sight of you and that bastard- Naoya sketching the other in silence.
It was a dainty, sunlit room, and the hours might have almost been peaceful - if it wasn’t for the split-haired bastard, that is.
After that flower fiasco and a thorough telling off for misremembering the prince’s allergies, this was meant to make up for a “bonding activity” according to the king; which to him read more like a desperate attempt to push the two of you together before the grand ball tomorrow night.
Gojo’s chest caves in with a sudden spike of pain, tomorrow night. Your engagement ball, where you will surely be handed off to a man who wouldn’t be worthy of you in a thousand different lives.
Fuck, had it really been days since already?
It hurt too much, and so he looks towards the prince’s parchment- how insulting. Hundreds of royal art lessons, yet Naoya still couldn’t capture the exact curve of your smile. And those pretty crinkles by your eyes- they were entirely the wrong number! And Gojo’s sure that any fool could see the way your lips-
He was getting ahead of himself. And reminded embarrassingly of the hundreds of sketches of you over the years stowed away underneath his bed alongside a stubby piece of charcoal.
And he was leaning over the prince in a way that he was sure would get him strung and quartered in the Zenin palace. Or, at least, that’s what Naoya’s daggered glare was telling him.
With a sheepish smirk, Gojo snatches a glimpse at your artwork. Stifling a laugh at the way you’ve given up on drawing the other man and started engaging in idle scribblings of weasels and hollies.
“That one looks like him, don’t you think?” He can’t help but whisper from the corner of his mouth, stomach swooping in delight as soon as your eyes light up.
Tacking on a familiar hairstyle and sneer onto a particularly shoddy caricature of one of the weasels, giggling. “He does.”
Gojo points at another drawing - this time of a bullfrog- honestly, what interests for a princess. “And that’s-”
“That Jinichi.” You’re finishing off for him, carelessly drawing away a few more - quite frankly, Gojo finds everything you do beautiful, but these were appallingly ugly - scribbles of foxes and goats. “That one’s Oji Zenin, and that’s Gakuganji and that’s-”
“Ahem.”
There was only one person who could make the clearing of a throat sound so snobbish. And that was Naoya Zenin.
Brows raised, feet tapping impatiently on polished marble as he snatches the parchment from your grip.
Schwing–!
“Toru- no.”
Gojo doesn’t even realize he’s pulling out his famed, silver sword until you’re stopping him with a hand to his tense bicep. Shit.
Growling through clenched teeth once more at Naoya while he nestles it back into its scabbard with unsteady fingers - only because you asked.
But the other man doesn’t even flinch - wearing that perfect mask of regal stoicity, though Gojo manages to catch the way his eyes flicker nervously down at the hilt of his sword. Doesn’t show anything other than the tightening of his thin lips as he gazes upon your humorous drawings.
The impatient tap! tap! tap! of his feet slowing down, stopping - before Naoya throws your paper down onto the floor and stomps. Gojo would’ve almost found it comedic if it hadn’t been for your startled demeanour.
“Excuse me-” He’s hissing, angling his broad body between you and this unseemly sight. Gojo looks dead-on into Naoya’s spit-fire red face, “-but I would have to hope not to remind a young prince of royal etiquette.”
“Excuse me, sir.”
“No need to call me ‘sir’, your highness.”
Naoya looks up, death in his eyes.
Gojo thought this might be the end. The missed trip to the dungeons all those years ago was finally catching up to him, and he would be thrown in today for drawing his weapon on a royal but goddammit- if he wasn’t going to keep you safe from his ire for as long as he breathes and then some.
But - to both you and Gojo’s surprise, and perhaps even Naoya himself - he simply turns swiftly on his heels and walks out of the room. Letting the heavy double-doors SLAM! deafeningly behind him.
It takes a beat. One. Two.
He counts every raging ba-dump–! of his heart against this ribcage- before the terse silence shatters with laughter.
“Toru- To- Satoru—!” You’re wiping away genuine tears, “‘No need to call me sir-’ where did you even come up with that-”
“Fuck! You can laugh but I thought I was headed to the gallows.” He’s exclaiming, and it was quite difficult to act as if your laugh wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d heard in his entire life. “Although- it would have been a killer last line. Wouldn’t it, my princess?”
The two of you stare at each other for one singular ba-dump–! Before bursting into peels of undignified cackles that could make an entire court shiver in scandal.
“Killer- killer alright-” You’re rolling your watery eyes, “This is just as bad as the time you caught Yaga in his interpretive rain dance routine- I thought you were surely dead then.”
Please, Gojo’s stomach and his heart were hurting - though, for very different reasons. “Not as bad as when you wanted to play dress-up with the sacred royal crown and lost it.”
“Don’t remind me, my father was-” That’s when your tear-lathered lashes flutter, a hand coming up to swat softly against your cheek as if to jolt back your senses. You’re groaning over Gojo’s whine, “-my father. Oh no! What will he say about this?” You almost knock your cushy stool over with how fast you’re teetering into a stand, “I must go apologize to weasel- Naoya right away lest relations with the Zenins-”
“Let me.”
Your brows raise, “What?”
“Let me.” Gojo’s repeating, more firmly this time. Thumb grazing briefly down your knuckles as he pulls you back into your seat.
Just for a split-second - like he couldn’t even think of letting himself touch such a precious treasure.
He knows you will argue this, he knows your stupidly selfless self will fight to apologize; which is why before you can say a word, he’s marching hastily out of those same doors and towards the luxurious guest chambers.
Truthfully, Gojo Satoru didn’t give a fuck about Naoya Zenin - but he’ll be damned if you, his beloved, was cast in a hameful light because of his childish actions.
He has to do something for you, while he still can. While he still has you. While he can still love you.
The corridors are winding, decadent. He takes a deep breath when nearing the slightly-open gilded door of the Zenin suite, that distinctly nasally tone of Naoya drifting in conversation from within. Shuddering in a deep breath, “Pardon m-”
“-drew me as a weasel!” The prince bursts, fury seeping into every hard syllable of his. Gojo stills where he stands outside, hand on the cool metallic doorknob. “I have never met such a vulgar, unrefined-”
“Oh, do bear it until the engagement Naoya.” The gruff voice of a man responds - and he recognizes it from all the recent chiding at palace staff to be the prince’s cousin, Jinichi Zenin. “After that ya can take your time breaking ‘er in.”
What?
“A boor telling me to break in a wench.” The younger man scoffs, though he sounds much calmer than just moments before.
Gojo thinks he could throw up all over the gleaming floors, he thinks he wants to keel over and beg at the king’s feet to keep this from happening to you. He thinks he just might.
But right now, he can’t bring his feet to move a single inch. Pressing himself up closer against the adjacent patterned wall, sharp ear yearning for more shards of the conversation.
“They’re all the same anyways.” Says Jinichi, “Just give ‘er something sparkly or flowery and keep her sated. Don’t want another one running off before you can dig your claws into the crown, now, do we?”
And perhaps he’s a hopeless fool for praying that Naoya might say something - anything - else. Wishing for the non-existent good in your soon-to-be fiancé, who only grits out a displeased, “Fine. Only because I want to see her pretty lil’ face when I break her to my will.” There’s the sound of urgent footsteps, “But if father doesn’t give me the throne for my efforts then I’m killing her and you, you brute.”
Stood stock still.
Gojo doesn’t think he could move even if he wanted to - and right now, ice-cold spikes of anger were the only thing latching him rooted to the spot, not even flinching once Naoya closes the door behind him and walks- seeing him.
His jaw clenches, eyes harrowing. “You.”
And Naoya had very clearly taken the opportunity to arm himself in his family chamber, because his spindly fingers itch towards the hilt of his dangerously glinting sword. Just seconds away from-
“Please.”
Gojo drops onto one knee, the tendons of his neck aching with how far downwards he had it bent into a pitiful bow. “I ask his highness to please let the princess go- to call off this impending engagement. I- I will bear the brunt of committing an offense, and will gladly take any punishment that is bestowed upon me. I just please beg of you to-”
“The same hand.”
“What?” Gojo forces himself to look up with tear-filled eyes, to face the prince squarely in his chestnut gaze. His delighted chestnut gaze.
Pointing towards his right hand, “The same hand you were to raise your sword at me, the same hand you used to put that wretched toxic flower crown on me-” And then his blade, “-I order you to repent.”
The other man breathes, “Repent…”
“Repent.” Naoya stands up taller, perhaps the most self-confident that Gojo has ever seen him. A barbarous curl of his lips starting to form, “Repent, and I shall consider ending my engagement with the princ-”
CRUNCH!
Pain. Blinding pain was all that Gojo could feel, and…relief.
He couldn’t even register the steady trickle of warm crimson on his skin and onto the floor in rose-like splotches - even though he could see it through bleary eyes. Head still spinning to catch up with the nanosecond events of drawing his sword and slicing a wide gash down his forearm.
Through half-lidded eyes, he puts back his bloodied blade into the scabbard and looks up at the stricken prince.
Repentance.
“So you love her.” Is all that Naoya hisses. And Gojo can’t lie, nor can he muddy your name.
So he simply waits quietly, silence speaking enough for eons. Waiting for you to be set free. And if he tried, he could even manage a smile-
Sniffing insolently - though, it sounded more like a snicker. “How valiant, for a low-born.” All that is said before he spits furiously at Gojo’s feet and breezes past in a swish of capes - as if nothing ever happened. “I might even invite you to the princess and I’s wedding ceremony.”
.
.
.
In a palace of thousands, it was only Gojo Satoru that could manage to stand out.
None of the royal jesters could make the court laugh quite as loud. None of the other knights - no matter how muscled, or chivalrous - could make the ladies-in-waiting swoon just as much. And none of the other reputable men could make you seek him out in every chamber, state room, or training ground just like this.
It was strange not to see even the barest glimpse of Gojo for an entire day, and the palace didn’t quite feel like a home without him.
“I’m telling you, Nobara–” You’re wheezing out in condensed puffs as your eager right-hand attendant continues mercilessly tightening away the undergarments of your ballgown. “Something’s probably happened to him or-”
“-or he’s being locked up for offending some uppity duke.” She’s rolling her honeypool eyes, one of the few who wasn’t afraid to express themselves this way in front of you. Flitting about the opulent dressing room you rarely liked to use, “You know how that eugh- Gojo is.”
“Which is precisely why I’m worried.”
Honestly, you didn’t even care for a grand ball when you didn’t know where your best friend was. Whether he was in the dungeons or…worse.
But Nobara wasn’t here to hear you ramble about Gojo Satoru - you oftentimes got the impression that he irritated her too much for her own liking - she was here to doll you up in costly pale blue silks and muslins that draped off of you prettier than a painting.
And you felt dizzy by the time she let you be escorted off towards the emanating music of the ballroom - with an excited goodbye and a reluctant promise to keep an eye out for Gojo.
Hair done more intricately than you could’ve even imagined, your jewelry caught every light in the room, a bejeweled flower tiara weighing heavily on your head. Adorning your face in a crown that reminded you of the one Gojo had made you only a few days ago.
It was almost a struggle to keep your face held high as you took the first few steps down the winding imperial staircase. To the ball.
You have to stop yourself from tilting your head down at the thrumming masses of decadently dressed-up nobles and clinking champagne to check whether Gojo was hidden away somewhere down there.
Manners. Posture. Eye contact.
It was all painfully practised, and so was the tightening of your features as your own father started reading off your introduction. He never took on this task - what was happening?
“And now, for the most important guest of all-” Booming voice thundering in your ears almost as loud as your heartbeat was. The king addresses the congregation in the middle of the dancefloor, more ruler than father at this point. “-my daughter, princess of our beloved kingdom. And the queen of the next!”
Your hand stills where it had been helping you balance in your heels down the stairway- what?
Thankfully, your father carries on - or rather, not thankfully, considering what his next words are.
“Yes, my people, this may come as a surprise to you all.” He chuckles above the deafening murmurs, and you slowly find yourself scurrying onto the raised platform your father’s throne was seated on. “But tonight is not only a simple celebration of our nation, it’s a celebration of love. Of two nations.”
There’s a beat of silence as he reaches out a withered hand to you, and you find yourself wordlessly taking it.
“F-father, what-” you whisper, but there’s no response. Your skin bristles with goosebumps, and you’re not sure whether it’s from the summer breeze wafting from the gardens, or from the speech’s implications.
Letting yourself be pulled right into the middle of the stage,right into the spotlight - where Naoya Zenin was waiting for you. Dressed in his finest suit of white silk, adorned with layers upon layers of military accolades and velvety medals.
The bright, blazing light of the chandelier was scorching, and your hands clench in unease. What was happening?
“That is right, my people.” The king drags your hand up to mesh in an entwinement with Naoya’s clammy ones, holding it up for the eager public to see. “After much consideration and forethought, our royal families have decided that today my daughter is the beloved princess of our nation. But tomorrow, she will be the future queen of the Zenin kingdom.”
There’s cheering - but you can’t hear any of it. In fact, the entire world could be falling upon you and you don’t think you would have noticed.
All you can feel is the queasy churning of your stomach, and the stern whisper of Naoya’s voice against your ear. Fingers tightening around your own, bruisingly. “Dance with me before I break this pretty hand, princess.”
You’re like a ragdoll, being puppeteered in a rigid beeline onto the dance floor.
If it wasn’t for one of Naoya’s hands bracing onto your waist, you wouldn’t even have realized that the royal orchestra had started up a gorgeous waltz. A slow, romantic melody that you might’ve otherwise loved if you weren’t trapped in the arms of a fiancé you never asked for.
“Looking pretty out of it there, princess.” The prince sneers after a few practised motions of your dance, making your dazed eyes stray from the swooning crowd and onto his pointed features.
And despite it all, you can’t help but feel betrayed. You thought that the two of you might have rapport at your obligation, if nothing else. “You- you didn’t even tell me. An entire engagement and you didn’t even bother to-”
“As a husband, I don’t owe my tch- wife anything.” His nose crinkles at your wandering eyes, the way your feet itched ever-closer to the surrounding people rather than the dancefloor. “Wishing it was someone else dancing with you?”
“Yes.” You’re spitting out before you can stop, trying oh-so-hard not to let your face twist into even a semblance of the fury steeped inside of you. “Anyone but a husband that I never wanted and never will want.”
“As if you deserve any bett-”
Your nails dig into one set of his fingers enough to engrave deep craters, almost enough to make him bleed. “I wouldn’t marry you if you were the last man on Earth.”
Naoya seems stunned for a few seconds - but, alas, just when you’re hoping that you’ve shut him up for good, you’re faced with the fact that the universe isn’t that kind to you.
“You mean you would marry the tch- low-born.” He pulls you into an incredibly rough twirl when the music crescendos, pulling you even closer. It’s all you can do to not fight his grip- “I’m not below finishing off his other hand if that’s what it takes to break you.”
“What are you even talking about?”
Each word jagged. “The knight. You love him, don’t act stupid.”
Raising your chin in defiance, “So what?” And just as much as confusion filled you, as did panic. Because Naoya’s grip was only getting firmer, his moves much harsher. Opening his mouth to spit out-
“Pardon me, your highnesses.” A deep bass cuts in, startled- you almost give yourself whiplash peering up into those fathomless mahogany eyes. Yaga’s thin brows furrowing into something heavily-set, “May I cut in for a dance with the princess?”
You don’t wait for an answer from Naoya - and neither does Commander Yaga. Swiftly sweeping you into his engulfing embrace as the orchestra changes into something slightly more upbeat.
Dressed in a thick suit adorned with even more medals than Naoya - ones you knew for sure were real, unlike his. And you couldn’t help but wonder just how good Gojo would look with his own.
“So…” Yaga starts, once more couples join the floor and his words can’t be heard over the shuffling of feet by anyone other than you. His calloused hands let you lead him through a waltz much more mellow than what Naoya had with you. You always did think that the leader of your knights was a gentle giant. “Begging you to forgive my indiscretion, ma’am but ah- trouble in paradise?”
“Trouble in hell, as expected.” You’re shuddering, gaze bouncing off of any flash of sapphire blue around the room.
The man in front of you nods gravely, “Right right. I might not be a married man, but even I know that times like these often call for a walk in the lilac garden. You know, to- ah, clear your head.”
Quirking a brow, you stare at him. “What?”
And oh, Yaga simply looked like all the gold in the world couldn’t pay him enough for this.
“Times like these-” He’s emphasizing, boring deeply into your eyes as if to mean every syllable to strike your very core. And it does. You don’t know why, but it does. “-call for a walk in the lilac garden.”
Oh.
“Oh.”
Yaga’s lips twitch upwards into an almost-smile, and his rumbling voice is soft for the next few words. “Go, your highness.”
So you do.
You’re realizing, with an ache of such gentle appreciation, that the commander had danced you two until you were practically teetering on the massive veranda. Open to the garden; where every prim hedge, bush, and tree was gorgeously decorated until your eyes sparkled.
Your breath bates…a choice. Head turning back to the luxuries of a royal ball that was none-the-wiser.
Then, with a brief hug you bully Yaga into, you run - as much as the delicate heels digging into your feet would allow. Faster.
If this was any other time, you might’ve felt disappointed at how you weren’t even stopping to admire the beauty of the moonlight-bathed garden. But right now, your heart was only pounding to go faster and faster.
Nothing else mattered.
Gojo was leaning on one pillar of the same white gazebo - and he was beautiful. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he was a faerie of the night.
Just a lone, tall silhouette that you could recognize so well; azure eyes twinkling, ivory strands of his hair shimmering with the silvery blue of the moon swimming amongst a dark sky. One he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of until he jolts his head towards the sharp snap! of a twig underneath your rapid feet.
“My…my princess.” He falls onto one knee.
It all comes out in a whisper - as if Gojo had dreamed of this moment so many repeated times before and wasn’t sure if this was a dream, too.
“Satoru-!”
It wasn’t.
Gojo stands up to embrace you like it’d be the last time he ever would, like you were the one thing connecting him to this life and he was a dying man desperate to breathe.
Strong arms winding around your waist, you’re pushed against one of the closed-off walls of the gazebo before you can even realize it. Arching off of the cool wooden surface and into his blistering heat. Into every ravenous, panted-out cloud of breath against your ear, “You came.”
He sounded pained. And you were sure you did just as much when you’re whimpering, “You disappeared.”
Gojo lets off a choked-up noise that could’ve been anything from affirmation to blatant shock. Half-lidded eyes boring deeply into yours, he shrugs off the jacket on his non-dominant arm to you with a low bow.
“May I have this dance, my princess?”
You’re gasping at the sight of starchy white bandages around his other hand, fingers hesitantly falling into Gojo’s heated flesh. “S-Satoru, what happened ah-”
But he drifts you gently into a soundless dance, the distant crickets and swish! of lilac branches your only tune.
And you never even understood just how much Gojo was a part of your life until he was moving through the exact same steps of waltzing that you’d learned growing up. The exact same once that you used to force him to sit through.
“I thought you were here because you read my letter.” Gojo mutters, lips so close now that they grazed the sensitive shell of your ear.
You’re having trouble finding your voice, “What letter?”
“The- the one that I left-” Just for you. His long lashes flutter open in shock, features contorted into something almost devastated. You wonder what made him feel this way. “-the one that I left in your chambers- about the- the prince, and the engagement and-”
“I got prepared for the ball in the dressing room today, I didn’t go to my room.” You’re continuing, voice small. Scared. “Satoru…you knew about the engagement?”
And Gojo’s voice told you everything you needed to know.
You feel your angry flare up hot and red, fists curling into Gojo’s delicate lapels. But that only proves to inch him even closer and make you sound much more breathless than you intended, “You knew about it and- and you didn’t even think to give me a hint that I was being carted off like a prize for some pompous asshat?”
He looked like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, lips still so pink in the night, wobbling. “I…I couldn’t let you be married, I just couldn’t. I would give my life if it meant you get the freedom to choose who you wanted.” Your dance had stalled, and you almost feel disappointed. “But I’m a coward, and this-” Gojo throws his hands across, voice hitching, “-sneaking around, hiding, running away is the only way I could ever-”
“You should have told me. Not just in the letter.” You’re insisting, running your hands through your hair. Suddenly, something strikes you, “That arm- it’s because of Naoya, isn’t it?”
He doesn’t even have the energy to protest, and that only spurs you on even more. “I-I could have talked to my father- maybe the council and we could have made it so that…”
“So that what?” Gojo’s voice hardens as much as it could with you, which wasn’t very much at all. His fists clench and unclench at his sides like it was taking everything in him to not just…“So that you can be the laughingstock of the kingdom when you marry a low-born knight?”
He was right. They would never accept him, no matter how much you did.
You’re rendered speechless, shivering at the way he rubs his wet eyes with the back of his hand. “Oh, I don’t want you- I need you.” And he was so beautiful like this, just centimeters away from you in the escape of the night. “I need you. I need you, I need you- I need you more than the sun above my head, and the air that I breathe, my princess. You have bewitched me, and I am yours. But you cannot be mine-”
You breathe out, “Satoru…”
“-and maybe in another life-”
“Maybe in this one.”
Soft hands rover their way onto the sides of your arms, and Gojo shakes you feebly as if to snap you out of this hypnosis and urge you to run. Eyes wide, yearning. “I have always been yours, body and soul.”
You always have wondered whether there was a method to shut Gojo Satoru up. And, right now, you think you may have found the perfect answer.
Because his entire towering figure just melts into your touch the very second you press your lips onto Gojo’s plump ones. Soft. Velvety.
His nostrils flare through a breathy sigh when you tilt your head mere sultry degrees to deepen the kiss. You were addicted to the honey-coated taste of him, the flat drag of his scratchy tastebuds rolling over your loosening maw.
“Ngh- my princess…” He’s puncturing your kisses with kiss after sloppy kiss, heavy hands wrapping around your body to wrangle you flush against his hardened ones. And you could count every glissade of his washboard abs through that thin poet’s blouse, “I love you.”
You’re not sure if it’s a fragment of your imagination, or- it’s not.
Gojo manhandles you - and himself - to sit on the opulent gazebo bench with you plopped into his manspread lap, without breaking the kiss for a split-second. Because it hurt to part from your pretty, candied lips, to let those slippery strings of saliva break in the clouded air between you two.
Even if it was to purr out—
“I love you I love you I love you-” The straight edges of his pearly white teeth sinking into your lower lip, groaning from the back of his throat. And your jittery legs shift needily on his warm, meaty thighs, “-I love you.”
“Satoru—” Just about the only thing that you can say right about now, your tone resounds in Gojo’s ears and makes him grunt. Your fingers tangle into his cushy locks, “T-touch me.”
He snickers, one hand clawing onto the crown of your sweat-dampened scalp and wrenching your face away until you’re huffing and puffing cutely for more. “Mmm, how about we use those princess-y manners of yours, hm?”
“Please-”
“Louder.”
“Please.”
“Harlot.” Gojo slides in a looong few digits past those impossibly endless skirts of yours, making your thighs dampen with treacly webs of needy slick. Letting those doughy fingerpads fringe over the covered mound of your pussy, just the very edges. “That was my f-first kiss, y’know?”
He had been hopelessly saving it for you, after all.
Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your weighted lids as soon as he teases you, mewling. “Was mine too, so we’re even-” Your hips shift in a lazy back n’ forth on top of his heated core, “-just- just want you to touch me.”
“I dunno…” Gojo drawls - drunken. And you feel the edges of his kiss-bitten lips warp around the very tip of your plummy tongue to suck on like his favorite gummy candy, “Wanna kiss my princess just a lil’ bit more.”
Panting, “K-kiss?”
“Mhm.”
Your eyes shutter in a heady blink, oh-so-cutely ready to crash back into a filthy, filthy French kiss once more, Gojo pulls away-
A noise of disappointment fresh on your lips and just about to spill out, before he lifts you up easily with only a single beefy hand underneath your body. Splaying you out on the sprawling wooden table right beside you, your back hits the ice-cold surface and makes you gasp into the crisp night air.
The lecherous sound of it almost as loud as the sudden clack! of Gojo’s knees collapsing down onto the floor. Your face contorts into a wince because surely it sent a stinging pain up his legs?
“M’quite used to being on my knees for you, my princess.”
But he didn’t seem to care - didn’t even seem to notice when he was much more enamored with the heavenly sight down there.
“These lips-” He smears away your lacy layers upon layers, budging up to nuzzle the soft skin of your inner thighs. And shit- the filmy glaze over his eyes told you that Gojo doesn’t even realize the way his bubblegum pink tongue lolls out over the splotchy spatters of your juices. “-were tellin’ me they feel a little…left out.”
Your mouth waters with a syrupy lamination of saliva as soon as his murked breath strikes your cunt. And the drag of his rumbling bass is so delicious – you couldn’t help but imagine just how it would feel on you.
“Just- just get it on with it-” you’re hissing, fingers latching onto a few thick locks of ivory to drudge him ever-closer.
“Impatient.”
As if Gojo himself wasn’t impatient.
As if he wasn’t just leaking out thick wads of drool from the parted sides of his twisted grin at just the thought of tasting you. Sliding the pointed tip of his button nose languidly up the crevice of your puffed-up slit, he breathes you in and feels his cock twitch-
“Oh, princess.” Gojo can’t move, he can’t breathe if it wasn’t around your needy cunt right now. He’s ignoring those shooting bites of pain up the sides of his arm to tug on your useless garments.
Pulling- shit, he always did fucking hate how many layers you royalty had to wear.
Pulling and pulling until the slow trawl of your undergarments by his nimble fingers wasn’t enough, and he just had to lunge his cottony head over to plummet his pearly whites into your panties and rip—!
A proper, gaping hole where your teary pussy was- and you looked even more gorgeous down there than he could’ve imagined.
Gojo’s face was blank, eyes wide and locked right at your geysering orifice like a man starved. For eons it felt like, until you were bucking up with pure need.
You’re humming in concern, struggling up onto your elbows to stare down at him. “Sa…Toru?”
And at your pretty voice, Gojo twitches. He gasps - full-bodied, like you’d just sent a zillion volts of shock down his sloped spine just by speaking to him. And he was well and fully intent on acting on it-
“Princess…princess princess princess—” Leaking from between his lips like he couldn’t stop, he hits the cute target of your cunt instantaneously with a fat thud of spittle, one. Two. Three, until your entrance was overflooding. He’s drawling the plummy end of his spit-glossed maw across your folds, “Oh, my princess. Just look at you.”
You feel his mess drool off the side of your plumpened pussylips and smear all across your peaked clit with only a simple touch of Gojo’s round-ended thumb.
Just down-right filthy when he crashes forward to slot the curvaceous nub of his sweltering hot tongue over the brim of your hole. Drawing all over that snug orifice with slow patterns round n’ round-
“Toru–!” It’s the only thing you know at this point. “Toru.”
“Whaaat? Jealous, my princess?” The words clang in your head- and the realization hits you at the same moment Gojo’s thickly viscous swab of spit does on your own tongue. A soft nudge at your slackened chin urging you to swallow-
And he can’t waste a second, can’t spend even a mere moment away from his favorite spot between your legs. Because now that Gojo got a taste, he wants alllll of it.
Stumbling back down in haste to plant so many uncountable smooches on your bawling pussy folds. Skimming his tastebuds just along your quivering hole.
“Shit- shiiiit–” When you’d heard court ladies giggling about this, you didn’t think it would feel this good. Or maybe that’s just because it was Gojo stuffing himself impossibly deeper between your legs. “M-more, Toru–”
Your voice was cracking just as much as his fucking sanity was.
Trilling out into frenzied shrills when Gojo swerves his eager thumb to pry open your gluey folds even further and give your fattened clit a flick!
You swear you feel Gojo depart his jaw with a giggle when your hips are bucking up pliably off the splintered table and into the bustling hot cavern of his mouth. More. “Easy there, your royal highness-”
“D-don’t call me that–” You’re whimpering, fingers tugging on Gojo’s bangs in some form of retaliation. But, of course it backfires on you just as soon as the force makes your knight moan.
“Wasn’t calling you that.” Gojo rolls his eyes, and your heart races in anticipation when the pointed edge of his chin strikes the drowned ends of your cunt. Lathering his pretty features in all the collective beads of slick raining fountaining out of you. His summer blue eyes flick downwards - and you can’t help but follow. “Was talking to her. Isn’t that right?”
Fuck.
You were fucked.
And you were losing your mind when Gojo drags you roughly towards the edge of the table with only an ounce of his strength. Mouth making out greedily, heels digging into the fleshy mounds of his back, you can only sob and beg for more more more-
“S’fuckin’ chattier than my girl.” He’s nodding along with every saturated squelch after squelch! resonating in his eardrums - as if it was a full-on conversation with your noisy pussy. “Let’s hope that fiancé of yours doesn’t hah- f-fucking hear.”
But Gojo was acting like he wanted him to.
“Hope the- the king doesn’t find his princess bein’ eaten out by- ngh- a knight.” Barrelling long, slender inches of his index and pointer past your tight ring of mushy muscle.
Your head throws back when he digs into the velvety depths of your pussy with just a single quirk-
“O-oh my god, Satoru–” You’re gasping in the flowery night air, tummy aching with every pump deeper because he was just so close to where you wanted him. “More- j-just a bit more.”
And yet, he acts like he doesn’t even hear you right now.
Cupping over one massive palm over his ear and drifting ever-closer, “Wha’s that? C-can’t hear ya, girl- ngh ya gotta be- louder.”
Louder and louder he was getting with the vulgarly fast thrust graced upon your gummy walls. The sound only makes him giggle all drunk on you, “What’s that? Here? That turn you on? Hmmm…”
And just when you’re letting your vision blur with stars- just when you think it couldn’t get any better-
“Mmmm– wan’ another taste-”
It’s the last thing your ringing ears hear before Gojo’s lurching forwards and burying his nose into your sensitive clit to give your overstuffed entrance a leeengthy lick. Right at the very split-second the globular edges of his digits scratch at that magical spot.
“W-woah.” Your head snaps up blearily to steal a glimpse at what had Gojo Satoru’s voice so airy n’ cracking in awe.
Only to see him fluttering his lathered lashes, the slick-gleaming apples of his cheeks blushing. Like some maiden in love. “Got even wetter f’me, your highness.” He’s breathing out, spitting out another voluminous cobweb of drivel and watching the way it sliiides across with the ribbons of slick pouring out of you. “Ohhhh, even b-better than any candy- better than a-any dessert.”
You yelp when one rugged and grabs a rough handful of your ass and latches his lips even sloppier against your hole. “T-Toru your arm!”
“Oh? This?” He’s glancing down at the bandages as if he’d forgotten they were ever there. “S’nothing for your- hah- personal knight. Doesn’t even hurt, I’d- I’d rather die than let a stupid injury get in the way of what I’ve been dreaming of for aaaages.”
The dual points of pleasure make your toes curl, every part of your body shaking-
Gojo was out of control now. Crazed.
High-pitched bouts of giggles escaping him, muffling around where his candy-glazed cerise lips were latched around your clit and sucking. He makes sure to hold fatal eye contact while he hollows out his scorching cheeks and drags the fleshy nub.
“M-making out with your pussy- your pretty, pretty pussy, my princess.” Your heartbeat echoes in rapid staccato with the vicious thud! thud! thud! of his neatly crowned fingertips pecking your g-spot. Each of his puffed-out gruffs making your tongue loosen in a please, “Making you s-so loud, making you feel so good.”
And without even realizing it, he’s rovering the papping brims of his fingers to give your clit a spank. Letting the syrupy beads slide allll the way down his tongue - letting you watch.
“S’all me.” Gojo slurs out. “Me- me me me me–” Steady rivulets of slick bubbling from the edges of his tongue when his sinful motions get faster. Harder. “Gonna ask who m-made you feel this way n’ it’s me. Your Satoru.”
More ravenous.
Swirling around slow probes of his sensory tips, it glazes his skin all the way down to his knobbly wrist in a thick coat of sap. Memorizing every gooey ridge and crevice inside your tight channel - shit, Gojo feels his ruddied tip spurt out a jetstream of buttery pre in his pants.
He thinks he might just burst in his pants if you don’t finish right this second.
But luckily - or unluckily - for him, you do. Right this very second, after being wrung dry underneath only a few more lapping slashes of his ferocious tongue, tweaking your buttony clit until you cum.
And oh, you’re so pretty when you do.
Your head throwing back with a broken moan of Toru–! It takes every ounce of trained will in his drunken body to not break off from your gooey pussy and watch the way your beautiful face twists.
Fucked out.
“O-oh, shit–” You’re practically sobbing at this point, wrist aching with just how hard you were pushing Gojo’s readily used face into your fluttering core. Your vision blurs with sparks n’ stars, “-H-how are you so good. Unfair, unfair—”
Babbling away such nonsense with that smart mouth of yours, Gojo thinks he sees utter heaven when your hot juices flood inside his mouth in generous heaps.
Lugging down an open palm underneath his chin to greedily collect the leaking beads that sprinkly in a shiny sheen off of his chin, he finds himself moaning. “Shhh, your knight’s here. Give it t’me– use me, my princess.”
And use him you were.
Riding out each white-hot peak of your high with slobbering grinds all across Gojo’s beautiful features. Your clit catches on the poking ridges of his mouth and nose and you squeal- “Ngh- b-better when you’re shut up like th-this, Satoru–”
Just for that, he’s spanking your goopy pussy thoroughly.
All the way until those shots of electricity down your bowed spine are nothing more but prickly tingles, all the way until your thundering ears calm down and you can hear each damp thwack!
All the way until your high has bated and yet, Gojo is still snogging each swollen fold of your pussy like a feast. “M’sensitive–” You sniffle, and he doesn’t even seem to hear you. “Fuh-fuck, Toru, keep doing that n’ m’not gonna let you ngh fuck me.”
That’s what finally gets his attention.
You can feel your lips burst with a slight giggle when all it takes is a quick nanosecond for Gojo’s plumpened mouth to jerk away from your cunt with the snap! of wiry slick.
Scrambling onto unsteady feet, he’s teetering over the edge of the wood ever-so-slightly. Muscular body casting a shadow on yours, and you think he’s never looked sexier.
Fawny strands of frosty white curtaining Gojo’s half-lidded eyes, thick thighs pressing against yours shivering; and even from your position homed towards the end of the table, your eyes catch sight of such a massively outlined bulge.
Staggering.
One that made your hands ghost down Gojo’s tensed abs, and he’s throwing his perspiration-dampened head with a whine.
“Need you, Satoru–” You’re managing out, strangled and messy. You’re sure you sound just as yearning as you feel. Fingers tug-tug-tugging impatiently on his gauzy clothes, “Want- you- out of these-”
And whatever the princess wants, the princess gets.
It’s as if on command - Gojo’s shedding his billowy shirt like it burned him. And very, very soon were his snug pants to follow, your layers, his sanity-
“Hngh- please.” He’s gruffing out, flinching just as soon as you cup his cheeks to smear away the remaining traces of slick glimmering on top of his blushing skin. Your touch was electric. Tonality painfully hoarse, “Let me fuck you- wanted it for so long. Let me fuck you please.”
Your drenched pussylips stream out a damp spot right across where you could feel his inflated vein poke between your folds. And he felt so…long. “Yes- yes, please.”
Getting the princess to say please?
He’s nodding his head shakily - Gojo could pass out, he could cu-
Oh, just a few taps of his mushroom tip on the outer edges of your pussy and he spots something creamy topping over your mound like icing. Sweat-slicked brows furrowing, Gojo nudges in even closer to where pooling splotches of cum pours from the strawberry pink divot right in the middle of his head.
He’s cumming and he couldn’t stop.
Couldn’t do anything but whine at the tender bolts of bliss aching all the way from his toes to his fuzzy head.
“S-Satoru did you just-”
“Shut up.” Oh, you would have his head later for this. “Shut up- shut up and just…”
N’ so he curls a hand at his bulky base and draws out a thick swab at the torrents of seed decorating your cute cunt. Making sure the milky sap formulated a glossy cap on his crownhead, before pushing rigorously in-
“F-f-fuuuuck–” he keens out, a thin line of sweat trekking down the side of his temples. And if he pushed just an inch further, Gojo could feel his hooded eyes well up with fucking tears- “Tight so tight s-sooo hot- so…”
You’re mewling, “Deeper- c-c’mon.”
He was fucking you like he didn’t even realize it - like he was enchanted by each mindless rut pulled from the carnal depths of his hips.
Two warm hands latch on in a vice-like grip on the delicious curve of your hips, and he’s holding your body still and pushing and pushing and pushing-
“Sh-shit!” Gojo’s voice pitches up embarrassingly high at the end of his slew of swears, buttering up your insides in a muggy few ribbons of pre in response. “But s-so tight- dunno if it’ll even…even fit.”
He sounded hypnotized.
“Are you- ngh! are you alright, Satoru?” You’re musing out, eyes glassy with a solid combination of lust and utter concern. Before you know it, your hand is reaching out to stroke the ba-dump–! thudding against his pecs.
“No.”
And it takes only the slightest graze of your doughy fingerpads against his flaming hot skin, the slightest touch from you before Gojo rudely swats your hand away and bottoms out-
You don’t even know what you were mad at- were you mad?
You really can’t even remember. Not when the crowned tip of Gojo’s incredible length was planting a sweet peck right into the sponged ends of your cervix, the entirety of his shaft spearheading you so deep that you think he might just be fucking into your lungs.
So big that he didn’t even have to try to rub the puffy zig-zag of his veins along your sweetest spots, even the most minute gyrations made your toes curl.
Splitting you apart. Stroking the weepy base of your slit with the hot, rounded sack of his breeder balls so right that it made you putty in his hands.
“Don’t t-touch me, my princess.” Gojo’s nuzzling his tear-stuck cheek against your own, you could feel the warble of his unsteady confessions. “Don’t touch me or I’ll…I’ll cum.”
And when has Gojo Satoru ever lied to you? Well, the upturned jolt of his split-ended tip right into the target of your mushy cervix told you that he wasn’t.
Gojo’s sinking down the edges of his teeth into his wobbly lower lip, he’s forcing his eyes to narrow down n’ obscure his crystal clear image of you to stop himself from cumming.
“So beautiful, can’t help it–” His breath hitches once he’s pushing apart your trembly thighs and stretching them over the two ends of his broad shoulders. Your ankles pitching down onto the rippling plush of his toned deltoids. “So perfect.”
“S-sweet-talker.” You whisper, mouth as dry as the Sahara with how his thick circumference was stretching out your rubbery walls until they were seering.
But if Gojo heard then he didn’t snap back - he was too pussydrunken to.
Moving on instinct, on that carnal twinge inside his brain that forced his powerful limbs to lock your ankles with one hand behind his head. To brace an engulfing palm right beside your head and lower himself down, down, down into a-
A mating press.
Gojo Satoru had you in a fucking mating press.
“So mine.”
And he was pounding all his aching inches into you like it would be the last time. Like he was mazing through your adhesive-like walls and plummeting the leaky end of his cock to knock against your very womb.
Gojo’s nose crinkles at the sheer warmth you were coating him in, dripping fresh slathers of slick in rings ‘round his hilt. He shivers as it drools down his tight balls, “I’m…I’m really fucking you- ngh! I’m fucking you, my princess.”
“Yes- yes yes yes—” Your mouth parts ajar, and you don’t know what it floods more with - your pathetic whines, or saliva. Coating a treacly river from each curl of your lips, “More. More, Toru.”
Oh.
You might have just broken him with that.
Even through your fucked-out stupor, you’re gaping at the way that the hand beside your head curls into an unyielding fist. It has to.
Otherwise, Gojo’s plump cockhead would be sugarcoating your sloppy hole in much more than just copious amounts of sticky precum. He would’ve cum.
“M-more?” You hear from above you, your knight’s bulging pecs vibrating with the plea. Oh, was it a plea - strained, shaking. Gojo sounded as if he was two seconds away from simply bursting into crazed laughter, “More…more. My princess wants- fuck! More?”
Fat ends of his fingers lock around the sides of your cheeks and force you into such an unladylike pout. “Say it- say it, little royal.”
“Shit!” Your core arches up into his hardened one, just as Gojo knew it would when angling his hips juuust right to give your bulging g-spot a long, hard swipe. Your throbbing clit scratching against his pale happy trail. “Yes- ngh yes I want more. Want more, Satoru!”
More.
And more was exactly what you were going to get. More than you could handle.
Your thighs ache with the struggle to stay open when Gojo tightens his lock around your ankles. Gruffing out a tight, “Take it then.”
He was so sexy, the swelling flex of his biceps enough to make your pussy drool and him slip n’ slide pliantly. Jackhammering away rugged pumps that you feel all the way in your leaden throat.
Your most favorite spots are so bruised that they’re almost tender, curling the base of your spine with tendrils of bliss that make you yelp.
“O-ohhh my god—” The side of his neck dampens as you’re leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that make the man pinning you down shiver. His sculpted abs twinging with every massage down your front, “Just like that, a-always wanted to fuck you, Toru–”
“Do you even hear yourself?” Gojo hiccups, the expression upon his features plain pained. Voice dipping into a whine, “Don’t know what y-you’re doing t’me.”
But now that you were babbling away, you couldn’t stop. Not even when he’s speeding up his vigorous cadence until the globes of your ass are left stinging, “M’serious– I always wanted-”
“Shut up shut up- shut up- my princess.” You don’t think that either of you were even lucid at this point, and every pap! of skin-on-skin is followed by the screeching creak of the table below you. Gojo rolls his eyes down at you fondly, “Gotta m-make you cum so you can shut up.”
Otherwise you were going to drive him wild until there’s no turning back.
Before you can let off a moan - or fervently agree - he thumbs over the perked hood of your clit. Drawing- circles? Hearts? No, his own name.
A tedious little S-A-T-O-R-U that makes your gushing walls clench oh-so-tightly around his sweltering length. Tummy tightening into something so close to shattering.
And Gojo was rough. Snickering at the way you whine, spilling out wadded volumes of spittle between your parted lips. He breathes, “Gonna make you cum- g-gonna make my princess cum.” You swear he nods down at your pussy and grins, “G-gotta be a good girl f’me, m’kay? Gonna be a good- girl- and…”
His hips slap sloppily against yours, overworked thumb stuttering on a swooping U over your sensitive nub. And the tension in the air pulls tight, tight, tight like the most delicate of strings, before crashing- “-cum.”
You don’t know who cums first - you or Gojo.
All you know is that as soon as your mind explodes with bursts of bliss - his poor cock does, as well.
Head toppling backwards, overfilled pussy slopping out waterfalls of sweet, sweet juices, it’s all you can do not to sob.
“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-” Your nails rake red, red lines all down his expansive back. Pulling him in even closer until all he can manage are dirty lil’ half-thrusts to pound you through your high. “M’cumming, Toru-”
“Y-yeah?” Gojo’s stuttering wetly, sloppily. Pushing the fat battering of his fountaining orifice into the groove of your g-spot over n’ over n’ over. You didn’t know how anything could feel so good. “N’ who made you cum, hm? Who’s f-fucking this pretty pussy, hm?”
“You-” You’re prattling, “You, Satoru.”
“Fuck.” Gojo gapes in wide-eyed craze, breath hitching when you lean over to drag your tongue over the sappy trickle of drool escaping his rose-red lips. “G-gonna make me cum again, swear-”
And he does.
“Can- can we hold hands while I hck! fuck you through your high, my princess?” He bats his lashes, a delicate blush taking over the tips of Gojo’s ears when you lace your fingers together.
You can feel the splat! of even more heavy seed hitting the bottom of your pussy, swashing a warm second coating to your elastic walls every time Gojo thrusts. He was so solidly inside. Pinpointing specks of pure white with each swab.
So full. So much of his voluminous ounces that it’s taken to tipping over from between your pussylips and forming a creamy puddle below you. You’re slipping all over it with every slither of Gojo’s cock.
But neither of you can even think to bring yourselves to be disgusted. To care for etiquette.
Because Gojo drifts his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and his cum- and you find yourself aching for more all over again.
“This looks…” Gojo starts, syllables scratchy and jagged. He’s practically whimpering - whimpering - at the sight of that lecherous cylindrical bulge being fucked into you.
You’re dripping with him, and his cock twitches ferally at the thought of you all round and glowing. What a pretty mama you’d make. “...looks like the n-next heir to the throne will be a Gojo, my princess.”
Oh, you liked the thought of that.
And looking at Gojo Satoru now - eyes still not fully focused with how ruined he was, skin blushed the same maidenly shade of red that his slobbering mushroom tip was, pretty smile directed at you and only you in this lilac-scented haze - you didn’t think you wanted it any other way.
But, of course, Gojo would never want it any other way, either. Never.
He clears his throat, sapphire gaze hardening; the intensity of it sending chills sprinting down your spine. Burning with a fervent I love you I love you I love you.
Massive hands intertwined with yours pull into your line of vision, and Gojo takes his dear time pressing a lingering peck onto each n’ every single one of your knuckles. But particularly on the one above your left ring finger.
This was it.
“My princess…run away with me?”
.
.
.
“Didya hear ‘bout that Prince Naoya?”
“Oh yes- had his bride stolen away by a knight, I hear. Put a knife to his throat n’ took her away in the dead of night!”
“Hogwash! The boy was a looker, she went quite willingly, see- I always did think that Naoya wasn’t good ‘nough for our princess.”
“Wonder what happened after? That Zenin bunch was quite furious I hear, that bratty prince is still out for blood. But ol’ Naobito and some commander came to the rescue- Somethin’ about corruption and Jinichi…”
“Bah! Who cares about that? S’the biggest royal affair of the century- a handsome knight sweeping away the beloved princess? They’re swoonin’ n’ calling him the Knight of Roses already. All I wanna know is how the young couple is doing!”
Yaga rolls his eyes at other rambunctious customers churning gossip-mill, a pint clutched tightly in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other.
Honestly, he comes to the pub for once to escape from palace duties - and the palace duties seem to want to escape with him!
And even after so many months since that engagement party fiasco? News really did trickle down slowly when royal scandals were so often covered.
Oh, whatever. He muses, thumb gliding over the glossy parchment- some new innovation from kingdoms beyond the sea, according to what the eagerly-accompanied writing had said. A…a photograph, you had called it.
And Gojo’s surprisingly intricate drawing of you fiddling with the ah- camera gave him an idea of the machinery, though- most of the sketches were of you. All of them, actually.
Yaga gazes on in slight wonderment at the perfect black and white depiction of your smile, rivalling the one of Gojo Satoru’s beside yours. Beaming, sleeves rolled up and fatigued with a day of hard work, so in love.
It was oh-so-positively sweet.
The cherry on top? Well, Yaga couldn’t quite decide between the matching bands glinting on each of your left ring-fingers, the glimpse of a pretty lil’ cottage behind you two, and the massive bouquet of undoubtedly deep red roses Gojo was presenting you with.
Or perhaps it was the hand you were resting absent-mindedly on the obviously rounded curve of your tummy.
How fortunate, he tucks away the photograph into his coat with a smile and orders another pint. Knight of Roses, indeed.
A/N. Yearning is my kink mhm. Hope you have a lovely week <3
image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest; borders created by @anitalenia
Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.
Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a smidge of tension, cat :), small signs of past mental and physical abuse, violence, death, guns, knives, bit of blood, explosion caused by gojo’s technique, mentions of bruising and choking, brief threats, bits of trauma after an attack, healing myself a little after season 2, sharing a bed, gojo teasing, brief argument, reader says something about her not caring if she dies but doesn’t mean it, cursing, gojo has scars, cuddles and secret kisses :)
Author's Note: Hello everyone. This chapter has been a long time coming, and I apologize that I fell off the face of the earth. More of that will be explained later. However, I want to thank those that did message me and have been enjoying this story so far, but we know how life can get. I had a great time writing this during what little time I had, and it's also a little longer than my usual chapters. So, without further ado, here's chapter 3 !! Remember to catch up on The Color Blue if you haven't done so before reading !! For those of you who I may have forgotten to add in the taglist or would like to be added, comment below!
Word Count: ~8.8k
Apparently, even The Strongest got the jitters. Satoru didn't think it was possible, yet here he was, his leg bouncing as he sat in the back seat of the car as it pulled up to the long, winding driveway of the estate.
He would admit to himself that he was counting down the days, and then even the hours, until he got to see you again. It felt ridiculous at this point, the quickening heartbeat knowing you were getting closer by the second, the smile he tried to hide whenever you crossed his mind.
And the... other thoughts he had of you over his trip as well. He had those a little more than he was willing to admit in your absence.
The driver pulled up to the front entrance and Satoru retrieved his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He went up the steps, opened the door...
He frowned when you weren't on the other side. He thought that maybe you would greet him in the foyer. Oh well, just meant he would have to go looking for you. Satoru started with your kitchen, then the living room... maybe inside your bedroom?
He opened your door, calling your name. Immediately, as if startled, you jumped up from your bed, hands behind your back, the book in your lap clattering to the floor. Satoru's eyebrows raised at your sudden movement.
"W-welcome home, Satoru! How was your flight back?" you exclaimed. Something must be-
"Mmrreow..."
A cat's soft purr sounded in the air.
"Whatcha got there?"
"A book...?"
Satoru chuckled and smirked, his arms now resting at his sides. "I don't think that was a book..."
Your face scrunched up as your arms moved from behind your back. "Please don't be upset..."
You revealed a small ragdoll cat, probably only a few months old, it's singular eye scanning before it landed on Satoru. Satoru gasped and, like a child being presented with a new toy, threw his duffel bag aside and took the cat into his arms.
You've never heard a grown man squeal. That being said, your worried face softened into a grin.
"When did you get this little cutie?" Satoru laughed, turning the cat over in one arm to pet her little stomach.
"W-well... you told me before you left that... your money is my money, and I've always wanted a cat. I made sure I did my research, though! I bought her from a shelter, and made sure to get her the required vaccinations-"
"Does she have a name?" he exclaimed, handing the cat to you.
"I named her Sugar... if you don't like it, we can-"
"Sugar! Awww, that's the perfect name!!" he cooed, petting Sugar under her chin, her right and only eye squinting as she purred. "She already likes me too..."
Sugar moved out of your arms to lay on your bed as you strode to reach for a book on your dresser. A book for taking care of kittens, he realized. "You don't have to worry about taking care of her. I have her food ready for the next few months, the best kind I could find for her breed and age, and I already have her litter set up in the laundry room. I'm keeping her toys in my room as well," you explained, already paging through the book to support your points.
Satoru looked at you from where he started to kneel at the foot of your bed, getting up close and personal with the new feline friend. He admired your sudden commitment, but... "You don't want my help?" Satoru questioned, cocking his head.
"Well, I figured since I'm the one who bought her, I should take care of her. I don't want to inconvenience you," you answered, clasping your hands with the book in front of you.
"It's not really that much of an inconvenience. The only reason I never got one before was because I felt bad that I was almost never home. But now that you're here, it makes it a lot easier. It's not like you got a dog," he reasoned, now standing to full height while petting across the fur of Sugar's back. "If you really want to take full responsibility, that's fine, but I don't mind helping. I just can't promise I can or will want to change the litter."
You let out a small laugh. "I'm okay with that then..."
After a few moments of silence, you picked up your gaze from the floor, a soft smile on your face and a question on your tongue, only to see Satoru looking at you already.
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had such sweet eyes, like blue cotton candy, and the way he looked at you with them was even sweeter. A small blush warmed your cheeks as you averted your eyes. What were you going to say again?
"Something wrong, pretty girl?"
"W-what? Oh, no, I was just... going to ask how your trip was?"
Satoru shrugged. "Meh, nothing out of the usual. Just a few grade ones here and there, but finding a special grade was a little interesting. I took care of that one too. Oh, and there was this one store-"
Satoru ended up ranting about all of the new stores and restaurants he tried out for an hour, even if you did remember some of these places from your short, daily phone calls. He even paused to retrieve something from his bag at one point: a delicate antique comb with pearls in the handle. A gift, as well as something that reminded him of you.
You took it from him to arrange in your jewelry box. You found it quite absurd that Satoru was telling you more about his leisure time that he spent in Kyoto rather than the curses he fought. You couldn't tell if he was just trying to spare you the gruesome details, or he if really didn't feel like it was that important to talk about. Perhaps to him, these curses were like stones on his path to be kicked or flies he shooed away from his face, barely worth mentioning. At least, that's what it seemed like to you.
It scared you a bit.
"(Y/N)?" Your thoughts broke as he said your name, one of his hands resting on Sugar as he sat by her and the other resting on his knee while he looked at you. "You good?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine..."
"Really? You don't seem like it..." Satoru expressed, now rising from your bed to walk over to you. Since he had left, you had forgotten how much taller he was than you. "Is everything okay? I never got to ask how you were here without me..."
Your face shifted as he said that. "May I confess something?"
His eyebrows raised. "Yes, go ahead."
You held the book in your hands close to your chest. "When... when I first started to live here, I found your presence... unwanted and... a bit frightening. I got more accustomed to it and... as we became friends it had become normal. But when you left for this mission, I didn't realize how used to it I had gotten. So much so that... sometimes, when I found myself eating or going about the house or cleaning our living spaces, I would suddenly feel... I felt-"
"Is this your way of saying you missed me?" Satoru interrupted, a smug grin reaching the handsome planes of his face.
Your face flushed. "W-well, yes! But, what I was trying to get to is that-"
"I can't believe it. (Y/N) actually likes me! Maybe she won't move across the world from me after all, haha!!" Satoru gasped sarcastically before pumping his fist in triumph, to which you huffed. Satoru snickered, ruffling your hair. "Heeey, it's okay. You can admit that you missed your darling, awesome husband."
"Not just my husband. My friend," you returned, a grateful smile gracing your features. He mirrored that same smile, his hands on his hips. After a beat too long, you sauntered past him back to Sugar, who was now curled on your bed. "That being said, I think we should celebrate your return."
"Celebrate?" Satoru's eyes followed you as you walked, subtly taking the shape of your waist as you moved and shoving the ensuing thoughts deep down.
"Yes, as both a welcoming party for Sugar and for your return home," you replied, taking the slumbering kitten in your arms. "Also, mostly because I haven't had anyone to cook for this past week."
Satoru picked up his duffel bag and followed you out the door towards the stairs. "Surely that isn't the only reason you missed me?" he laughed.
"Well, nothing else is coming to mind," you joked right back, turning to him. Satoru looked back at you wide-eyed, an opened mouth grin forming on his face. Did you just... go along with one of his sarcastic gags? Telling by the little hidden smile you were giving him, you were.
This was new.
Satoru just huffed and shrugged, taking a step past you to open his bedroom door. "I think I'm rubbing off on you, pretty girl. Maybe I should've stayed away longer..."
You tried to hide your flush by avoiding eye contact, the sudden drop in octave in his voice causing you to go warm. He saw it anyway. Almost expected it at this point, given how predictable your reactions were. He stepped through his bedroom doorway, duffel bag on his shoulder once more, the epitome of smug satisfactory on his face.
Until you gripped his hand, looking up at him with eyes that could bring him to his knees. "I'm glad your home, Satoru."
It was the first time that you had ever initiated such contact. You knew it of course, and so did he. He clung to that unspoken fact, that knowing bit of trust and maybe something a bit more, as he engulfed your hand in his, giving it a small, warm squeeze.
"Me too..."
The two of you decided on a savory curry recipe for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but still delicious. Satoru chose to use the time as a way to try and test out that new found humor of yours, smiling to himself when he would get you to laugh or reply back with something witty. He'd been waiting to see this kind of side of you for a while, one that you had originally kept reserved, or maybe didn't even know that you had at all.
While eating, Satoru asked what you had been up to when he was away. "I was keeping up with my usual tasks. Nothing too special..." you said, looking down at your plate as you spooned some of the curry.
Satoru stared at you as you did, a small frown on his face. "So you didn't get out at all or do anything?" He also wanted to question why you couldn't seem to look at him right now, but he pushed the thought aside.
You shook your head, taking a bite. "Other than running errands or picking out Sugar, no."
"Well, maybe we should-"
Satoru paused.
You looked up at his sudden silence. "Satoru?"
He shushed you immediately, causing you to bite your tongue. He stared ahead, as if peering right through the wall ahead of him. He was peering right through the wall, using his Six Eyes. You could tell by the feint bits of cursed energy seeping into the room.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, Satoru peeled himself from his seat, his expression suddenly hard. The staff had gone home for the day already, Sugar was sleeping under your feet... What could he possibly be going to check?
"Stay here," he murmured, his voice low. His tone sent a shiver of fear down your spine, not just because of its command, but for whatever the reason could be to change his demeanor so suddenly.
"Satoru, what is it-" you began, your voice hushed and brow furrowed.
"Stay here," he growled, his head snapping in your direction as you barely rose from your seat. You complied, inching back down. "I'll be right back."
And with that, he moved, keeping a brisk pace as he opened the door that led to the rest of the estate, and shut it behind him. Worry began to coil in your gut, the thought of what could be so wrong that Satoru would have to just get up and leave. A few seconds passed, then a minute, more minutes...
You couldn't take it. You had to know something. Even if Satoru instructed you to stay put... as long as you didn't leave your shared part of the house, it would be okay, right?
You rose from your chair slowly, the wood scraping against the floor as you padded over to the door at a snail's pace, an anticipatory feeling curling in your gut. Fear, something you knew almost all too well. It didn't help that your inner thoughts at the moment were your father's voice, laying out possible consequences and outcomes-
And yet, you grabbed the handle and swung the wide oak door open. Nothing but the dark hall and the stairwell beyond it greeted you.
"Satoru?" You thought that maybe he was playing a thoughtless prank, trying to scare you all for nothing. You almost expected him to pop out from behind you for a moment. No response.
You sighed, turning to shut the door, just before Sugar slipped past you, running. Of course, after her nap her boundless energy would push her towards the one place you didn't want her to be. You lunged forward to grab her, but the kitten only ran further away, as if daring you to catch her in some sort of game. If Satoru saw her, he would know that you must have opened the door at some point!
"Sugar!" you called, running down the hall after her.
"Who wants to tell me how you found my home? First to speak up dies last."
None of the thirty armed men standing in the garden said anything, sticking to aiming their useless guns. Satoru stood before them, arms crossed, the only thing between them and the house. And you.
"Okay, how about an easier question. Who hired you and how did you get past the wards?"
Wards had been placed all around the estate centuries ago when it was first built. No one had ever gotten past them. Until now.
It was almost embarrassing, too. None of these fuckers had any cursed energy, yet he had sensed them creeping through the treeline during dinner. He would've paid it no mind, since the barrier created by the wards should have stopped them. But they had walked right on through, and the barrier probably tickled them with a shock at best. He'd have to check their integrity later. But for now...
"Do I have to treat you like my students and pick on one of you?" Satoru snickered, a hand on his hip. This was a waste of time. The sooner he could get past the easy part, the sooner he could continue dinner with you and figure out who had sent these idiots so he could pay them a surprise visit. He didn't appreciate unexpected guests, especially while in the company of his wife.
Satoru sighed. "Okay then, you." Satoru pointed to one of the men on his left, and the man's arm twisted and exploded in blood and bone, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream. The men replied with open fire, to which Satoru easily blocked with his infinity.
Some of them refrained for a moment, realizing that this was no ordinary target, and that he was no ordinary man. The men stopped firing altogether, bewildered, and watched as the bullets clattered to the soft grass in front of him as he dropped his infinity.
"Should I ask one more time?" Satoru seethed lowly, stalking towards the group. A few of the sensible ones backed away a few steps. One man began to shake.
Satoru turned his head in that man's direction, watching him. The man cried out, and fired off his automatic rifle in a fit of terror, the bullets catching some of his team. The others began to fire with reckless abandon.
Satoru began to take care of them quickly, trying not to waste too much energy as he moved between each target. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Each bit of blood he poured only hit the infinity barrier he kept up and blew off like rain on a windshield. But he needed to keep one alive-
There. One was running back through the trees; a coward then, someone likely to confess. He made quick work of the rest, before running after the escaping man not too far into the surrounding forest.
Satoru caught him by his shoulder, ripped his gun away, and flung him to the ground, putting his shoe to the man's chest. "Talk."
"I-I don't know-"
"Then know. Or you'll end up just like the rest."
"But I can't. I won't. He won't let me remember-"
Satoru's head inclined. "Who?"
The man beneath him let out a shaky breath, pointing back towards the house. A knife was thrown from that direction into the man's neck. Satoru's eyes widened, looking back and-
Someone was dragging you through the back garden doors. They had cursed energy.
Satoru teleported back in a heartbeat, right behind the person, bared hands going to wrap around their neck-
But they reacted too quickly. The person, a woman, whirled you in front of herself, holding you up by your neck as a shield. Your choking made Satoru see red.
"Not so fast, Limitless," she purred. "Step back, or I snap her neck."
It would be so easy to snap hers instead, but he didn't know her technique. He didn't know what she could do to you. He complied reluctantly, and the woman set you down and let you breathe before gently resting a jagged dagger against your throat.
The woman was clearly a cursed user of some kind. Tall, form fitting, her muscular body contrasting the elegance of her red kimono and feminine face. She flashed him a saccharine smile. Whoever she was, Satoru didn't recognize her.
"So nice to finally meet you," the woman careened. "Your wife and I have already gotten acquainted." She pressed the knife closer towards the soft expanse of your neck, the sharp edge tickling your skin. You winced.
"Satoru-"
"It's okay, (Y/N)," he breathed out. But it wasn't okay. He had been a damn fool, telling you stay in the house, unprotected. No, he was a fool for following that last attacker into the forest. He was only there to draw him out, so this woman could slip in undetected. "Why didn't you stay in put-"
"That was my doing, actually," the woman smiled, raising her other hand from your nape. Satoru tensed, but instead Sugar appeared from beside her. The woman moved her hand in a circular motion, and Sugar mimicked it, spinning at the same speed of her hand before walking off. "A little party trick. Mrs. Gojo seems rather fond of the animal, so I figured she would rush to protect it when it "decided" to run off." And lured you to the garden just so she could pluck you out.
So, mind control. That was her technique. Satoru huffed. "I will admit, I haven't seen that one before. But what do you want?"
The woman shrugged. "Why don't you guess?"
Satoru's eyes narrowed, trying not to let his slight panic get to him as he saw tears begin to slip down your face. She would pay for that. "Well, lots of people have their reasons. There's always a price for my head, so it could be that, but you seem pretty smart. You know you can't kill me," the woman grinned, "so you went for her. And now I have to... give you something, I presume?"
"Perhaps." The woman began thrumming her fingers on your collarbone. "It is something that you have. Try thinking a little harder."
Satoru crossed his arms, making a show of trying to come up with an answer. "Well, I do have a lot of money, but with your talents you don't seem to need to get it from me. I have valuable information on a vast variety of top secret jujustu subject matters, but really, you don't have to go through me to get those, and, even if you did, I really don't remember anything important, I mean, c'mon look at me. Sooo... other than that I would assume you're trying tooooo get my attention? In which case then, oh, I'm flattered and you seem like a nice gal, but I'm a married man so... what do you want?"
"I want her, dumbass," the woman growled, clearly upset by Satoru's rambling. She pressed the knife point underneath your chin, your chest heaving as you groaned. "Do you know what people would do for Death Immunity? What anyone would-"
"Oh, well, you could've just said so," Satoru grumbled. "Anyway, she-"
A thousand blades lunged at light speed from the trees, all aimed for him, which he deflected without a thought. He turned his head to look at them once they had clattered against the concrete, the knives identical to the one the woman was holding against you. "Geez, did you do that? Where were you keeping all those?" He put a hand to his head, trying to peer into the direction they came from.
The woman's demeanor went from peeved to panic when her surprised attack failed, clutching you tighter in her grasp, her grip beginning to bruise along your collarbone.
"Well, as I was saying," Satoru continued, turning back to the assailant. His eyes briefly took in the woman's nails digging into your skin, his voice rumbling a shade darker. "She's already mine, so I'm afraid you've come here for no fucking reason, other than to get killed. So, without further ado-"
Satoru raised his arm with killer quickness, a blue flash from his hand near blinding you as he aimed and released it into the woman's face. Before the blast could fully take, he pulled you to his chest, turning and shielding you both with his infinity as the woman's head was detonated so fast that her vocal cords were incinerated before she could scream.
You let out a painful sob as he pulled you to his chest firmly, hunching over you with an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. Only when he felt the implosion recede and heard the woman's body thump to the ground did he stand fully and let you turn around. "Are you hurt-"
Your first reaction was to look behind him to where the woman's corpse was still smoking, or what was left of it. "No, no, don't look," he murmured, forcing your head back into his chest. You were a mess, breath heaving, sobs racking your throat, eyes puffy and still crying fat tears.
" 'M sorry! 'M so sorry-" you choked.
"Don't apologize, you're okay now. I've got you. You're safe," Satoru whispered, trying to ground you, rocking you side to side as he cupped your face firmly, bringing his forehead to yours. His hands were warm, so unlike that woman's. Thumbs wiping your tears, he stroked your cheek as if it was the only thing able to pull you back to reality. "You're safe. I've got you."
The investigation at the Gojo estate started within an hour of the attack and was still ongoing the next morning. Members of Jujustu High's Tokyo staff came to help with investigation and cleanup. After they debriefed you, Satoru asked Suguru if the two of you could crash at his apartment for a while, just until he was sure that the location of this estate and the others under the Gojo name were secure. Suguru agreed, leaving with you in tow so you could get some rest and to make sure you were well protected.
Now, those involved in the investigation met in the estate dining room. The chandelier light played off the ancient mahogany walls, overshadowed by the streams of golden sunlight bleeding through the skinny, arching windows and glinting against the many colored alcohol bottles sitting on the flight of shelves against the opposite wall.
Nobody reached for a glass though.
The first one to speak was Ijichi, having entered the room minutes after everyone else. "We have identified the female curse user," he said, passing off a matching folder to each person sitting at the table. "Her name was Kawate Kiko, a curse user who has been hired by many crime organizations and other private buyers for her skills, both in hunting humans and curses."
"And her cursed technique was mind control?" Yaga began.
"No."
All the heads turned to Satoru, sitting cross legged, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He had switched out his t-shirt and sweats from earlier to his official uniform. "It wasn't mind control. She was able to manipulate knives telepathically at rapid speeds, at numbers probably close to 100."
Shoko set down the file. "Do we have any clue who may have hired her and these men? Or what their motive may have been? Perhaps she hired them to help her."
Yaga grumbled. "Well, if someone didn't blow her face off-"
"Sorry that I didn't give a fuck. Not when she was holding a knife to my wife's throat," Satoru said lowly and firmly. The room went quiet before he sighed and spoke again. "Things don't add up. The men, we know, were all ex-convicts and low lives of local Tokyo crime rigs, with little to no connection to one another or any part of the jujustu world. They would have had no reason to suddenly band together for a hunt like this, especially with someone of Kawate's caliber. Secondly, the man that I hunted down in the forest said he didn't know why he was there and that someone, a he, was preventing him from remembering. Not she. And with 30 non-curse users getting through the estate ward barrier with guns and armor they had no money to possess... there had to have been someone else here tonight with those assets and that technique. Someone with enough caliber to hire someone like Kawate to play along with them. Someone behind the scenes of everything."
"But I thought they were after (Y/N). Why the hell would the other guy not show himself after Kawate was killed?" Kusakabe grumbled.
"Cowardice? Maybe realizing that the entire operation was an impossible job and decided to flee?" Shoko proposed.
Yaga leaned back in his chair. "What doesn't make sense is that someone must have had access to these wards or known how to manipulate them. No one else has access, right?"
Satoru shook his head. "I'm the only person alive that should know how to work mine, but that doesn't mean someone somehow could have been taking the time to study them and learned to break them. But that would also require an insane amount of energy, not to mention the knowledge behind such ancient artifacts."
"But who would try that when they know you could detect them from miles away?" Kusakabe countered.
"I wasn't home this past week, and (Y/N) can't detect them," Satoru pointed. "They must have done it then."
"Do you know who was here, then?" Yaga questioned.
"(Y/N) never mentioned visitors. I could always ask her to see," Satoru replied. "Anyways, tell my students they have the next week off. Little impromptu study week. I'm going to find the clowns that started this," Satoru groaned, stretching as he pushed back his chair. "You guys can handle the rest here, yeah? I'm pooped."
"But this is your house-" Yaga protested, but didn't continue as Satoru meandered out the door.
Suguru let him in to his complex at 9:26am, riding up the elevator and walking down the hall to his place.
Satoru always envied Suguru whenever he walked into this apartment, that he had a place to be truly his. Well, as much as Mimiko and Nanako, his adoptive daughters, would let him, with their free range on the decorating. Suguru had saved the two of them with Satoru's help from a village that meant to imprison and abuse them. Shortly after, Suguru had bought this place with what money he had amassed over the years, a home for him and the girls, one where they could heal and form a sense of new identity, Suguru included. And for him, that meant taking the two seven year olds under his wing.
Suguru said something about how had he had been going over the reports that Ijichi had dropped off before he arrived, and while Satoru was happy to catch him up, he just wanted to talk to you, see how you were holding up.
"I think she's still sleeping," Suguru informed, probably sensing his unease. "She didn't end up going to bed until early this morning. She wanted to go take a walk, but I convinced her tea would be better. That was at 4am, and I haven't heard her since."
Satoru thanked Suguru, and walked down the narrow hallway to the guest bedroom, one that he had grown accustomed to staying in when the estate felt too big and he felt too lonely. He pried open the door softly, peering through the crack to see your form under the blankets, and stepped inside. He made quiet work of changing out of his uniform, picking out a pair of pajama pants you had folded and neatly packed into his duffel bag before you left, and sat on the edge of the bed opposite of you, the bed creaking under his weight.
He observed how you were curled into a fetal position, your arms wrapped around a pillow (that he instantly grew envious of), and while the sight would have made him smile, he could see the other things too. Your hair looked unkempt and limp, you were still wearing the same clothes, and he couldn't smell your usual vanilla and lavender bath oil, meaning you probably didn't shower. Besides the wanting to take a walk, Suguru never mentioned you wanting to cook or read or maybe even clean, activities that Satoru had known you to do when restless or stressed. You probably only passed out from pure exhaustion.
He hated he couldn't have been here sooner. Hated that he told you to stay inside. Hated he didn't just deal with the problem as soon as possible before they could draw you out like that. Hated that he had just come home and now you both have these other problems to deal with.
He was going to have ask you more questions when you got up too, but for now... he needed sleep. Badly. Didn't even care how much he needed a shower right now or that he was about to sleep next to you in the same bed for the first time.
Satoru got under the blanket, the bed just big enough for there to be about a foot of room between the two of you. He turned on his side and stared at your back, wanting to close that distance so desperately, to pull you right into his chest, into his arms, and to feel your warmth and your breathing against him to remind him that he was next to you, and that you were safe. To feel your hair against his face and neck, your skin underneath his fingertips.
Instead he just stared. And then slept.
When Satoru awoke again, the sun was already setting. As soon as he arose to look for you, Suguru's girls were already dragging him down towards the living room floor to stick butterfly clips and extensions into his hair. It wasn't until he was able to turn in the direction of the kitchen that he saw you stirring something over the stove as Suguru stood next to you, a drink in his hand as he spoke softly. To his surprise, you replied to each thing he said with equal calmness.
Shortly after the two of you had married, Satoru did want to introduce Suguru to you, but after seeing how you reacted to being around just him, he didn't want to put you into a situation you might be uncomfortable with. However, it seems now that maybe Satoru didn't have to worry. You two appeared to have similar personalities anyway. He's surprised he didn't think of that to begin with.
Even as the girls stepped around him from where he sat, Satoru could barely make out the bruises from where Kawate had gripped you whenever you turned to face Suguru, who seemed to have gotten you onto the topic of whatever dinner you were making. Good. Getting your mind off the past 24 hours will help you to better process everything later, when Satoru would inevitably have to ask more questions.
It was odd. Normally, you would let him know you were having visitors coming over the second you knew. Unless since he was gone you decided to not tell him, or maybe they came over unexpectedly? Whoever they were, they would only be able to study the wards from the inside, so anyone who would have visited the estate is a potential suspect. His staff had all been questioned that morning and ruled out as well, so it had to have been anyone you had contact with from outside the estate wards.
And what was Death Immunity-
Satoru's thoughts were interrupted by the girls shoving a handheld mirror in his face for him to look at his new hairdo, the white tuffs of his hair being littered with colorful bits like confetti frosting. "Wow, you two, I'm gorgeous! What's next? My nails? My face?" Satoru exclaimed, touching up his hair and making faces that made the girls squeal in fits of giggles.
"How about dinner?" Suguru chimed in, arms crossed as he stood before the three of them with a smile. In the background, you were busy pouring whatever was in the pot into bowls for the five of you, adding ice cubes into the girls' portions.
Satoru stood, letting Nanako and Mimiko drag him into a chair between the two of theirs as you and Suguru sat across from them. Suguru helped you carry the bowls filled with a veggie and beef stew to the table with glasses of water to drink. The spirited conversation of the children kept the table from going completely silent, which Satoru was thankful for, but he kept his eyes on you throughout most of the meal, watching as you smiled sometimes and nodded but never really gave much input into anything. He knew you were still trying to work through everything that happened. In fact, given your reaction, maybe last night was the closest you've ever actually been to death. The jujustu community had become so desensitized to it that even he forgot to check in on how the view of a smoking corpse or the feeling of a blade to your skin may have affected you.
Soon enough the two of you were beginning to hand wash the dishes, Satoru giving Suguru a thankful nod as he guided Mimiko and Nanako to their rooms when they tried to pull Satoru back to their makeshift salon. You and him fell quickly into a rhythm, with you washing something before handing him it to dry, the light over the dining table behind both of you providing enough visibility.
"Geto is a nice man. Those girls seem to appreciate him as well," you murmured, taking Satoru a little by surprise. He didn't expect you to speak up.
"Yeah, he's a good guy," Satoru replied. "A great sorcerer too as much as he is a dad. I'm lucky he's my best friend."
You hummed and smiled to yourself. "That's good."
After a moment, Satoru snickered, "So, you think he's attractive?"
You furrowed your brow, holding the newly washed dish away from him as you turned your face in his direction. "Satoru, that's not funny."
"You're not denying iiiitt~" he sang, smiling wider and pointing at you with the towel.
"No, I don't think that. Why would you say that?" you muttered sharply, handing him the bowl you had in hand before reaching for the soap to scrub the pot.
"Well, you two seemed to be chatting it up over here while you were making dinner," he teased, laughing to himself. He didn't even know why he was asking these things. He knew teasing you was normal, but why about this? Why now? Of course he wanted to take your mind off of things but-
"He was talking to me about you, Satoru," you replied, a slightly hardened look on your face. "I don't want you to think that-"
"Think what? That you might have feelings for someone? Shh, it's okay, I won't tell," he whispered with a laugh. You were talking about him? "Really, (Y/N), your secret-"
"Satoru, why are you asking me this?" you interrupted, handing him the last pot. "Why are you..." You shook your head before continuing, opting to walk to the bedroom you two were sharing.
"Wait, (Y/N)-" Satoru set the pot into the sink with the towel, his large steps quickly catching up with you as the two of you stepped through the doorway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know," you murmured, gently sitting on the bed. "I know you're just... trying to take my mind off of things, which I appreciate. But-"
"Yeah, I shouldn't have done it like that, I know. That was a kinda dick way to do it," Satoru said, scratching that back of his head.
You grit your teeth, folding your hands in your lap. "It's okay... I understand." After a pause you added. "I've been worried for Sugar this whole time."
"She's okay. We just want to be sure she's safe before we can have custody of her again. And don't worry, Shoko has cats of her own. She knows how to treat them good." Satoru made sure it was Shoko that got to examine Sugar and not someone that would cut her open and dissect her like some common animal. You nodded along to his words, staring at the wall ahead.
"I... the other sorcerers at Jujustu Tech. They wanted me to ask some things... if that's okay. If not we can wait till later-" he began. Maybe be shouldn't bring this up now.
"Didn't they already ask me questions?" you muttered.
"Yes, but..." Satoru kneeled in front of you were you sat, taking your hands in his. You almost had to stop yourself from letting out a laugh at the butterfly clips still in his hair. "(Y/N), it's imperative that you answer me honestly when I ask this."
Your eyes met his, your eyes narrowing in confusion. "Ask what? What more is there to ask?"
"Was there anyone that visited you during the time I was gone? Anyone that normally would not be at the house?"
Your mouth opened to speak, the answer clearly on the tip of your tongue. "W... why? Do you think they did this? How? Was it not somehow that woman that you-"
"I don't know, (Y/N), but what I do know is that if there was anyone you would have known about being on our property that is otherwise not welcome, they may have had a hand in destabilizing our wards, and I want us to be safe so we can return." Satoru squeezed your hands once more. "Was there anyone?"
You bit the inside of your cheek. Once. Twice. You sighed. "My brother, Keisuke."
Your brother? "Why did he come?"
You shook your head. "No, Satoru, he would never do anything like this-"
"(Y/N), I'm not saying he did but I need to start somewhere so that I can ensure that you and our home is safe. You understand, right?" Why were you so defensive suddenly? What did your brother do there?
"It wasn't his fault. There was no way he would have had any involvement! He wouldn't want to-"
Satoru stood. "You were almost kidnapped! You could have died-"
"And so what if I did!"
A beat.
"What."
Your hands clasped over your mouth. You looked like you were about to apologize. Satoru kneeled slowly.
"(Y/N)."
Your fists clenched. You were probably holding back tears.
"(Y/N). Don't you ever, ever, say something like that about yourself."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologize," he hushed, now moving to sit beside you, an arm around your shoulders. "Just... you don't have to."
The two of you paused for minutes, not saying a word. He suddenly began to feel guilty, both for his teasing and for pressing you for details when the attack barely happened 24 hours ago. Hell, you could have died not too long ago, and now he was treating you like this. "We can talk about this later," Satoru murmured. "It was wrong of me to bring it up."
"No... it's alright," you whispered, hands coming to fold in your lap. "I'm sorry for arguing with you and... for my outburst."
"Don't sweat it."
"Is this what's its like to have an argument? And to then forgive immediately after?"
"Yeeeep." He added a little pop at the end.
"It feels wrong. But civil. But... wrong."
"Well, that's because most arguments just feel wrong. I like to think of them as passionate conversations, albeit sometimes with more hurtful comments or name calling." Satoru stood and started walking to the bathroom.
"But we didn't call each other names..." you murmured.
"We can right now if you want stinkybutt," he replied, turning to lean against the doorway while crossing his arms. He nodded in your direction.
"Okay then... uhm... asswipe."
"Woah, bringing out the big guns I see." Satoru placed a hand to his chest as if hurt, a playful grin on his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse, old lady!"
You dropped your mouth in a playful shock. "Well, I'm just imitating the best potty mouth I know, pompous bitch!"
He snickered before firing back. "You little asshole!"
"Bastard!"
"Fucker!"
"Dick!"
"Motherfucker!"
"Dick for brains!"
"Pretty girl..."
Your next insult halted in your throat, his little purr of those two words forcing a red shade to your cheeks. Before you could react, he spun into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it with a click.
"H-hey, that wasn't fair!" you protested, getting up from where you sat on the bed.
"What?! Can't talk right now I'm taking a shit!" he yelled back, the shower turning on immediately afterward. You just shook your head, smiling as you sighed. You changed into your nightgown, figuring you might as well lay down and wait until he was done so you could brush your teeth.
Was it really only a few minutes ago that the two of us were fighting? The conversation shifted so quickly. Did he do that on purpose? While almost any argument you had ever had ended quickly, it was almost never forgotten nor forgiven. Its reminders sometimes stayed on your body for days at a time. Either way, you were grateful. He was so good at distracting you from things, even things like near death experiences.
Distractions. Was this what this was? You still went to bed feeling lonely each night, but the next day he made you forget that you ever did. Maybe that was all you needed, all that anyone ever needed. To go to bed lonely, wake up, interact, forget, and then remember. You spent so much of your days alone before all of this. Does this mean you've become something normal? Perhaps. But was it still normal to feel incomplete?
You were so busy contemplating and staring at the wall that you didn't notice Satoru beginning to sit on the other side of the bed beside you, hair free of butterfly clips. Your thoughts broke when you heard the bed creak, making you turn over to face him.
His shirtless body was backlit from the brightness of his phone screen as he sat on the edge of the mattress. As he scrolled, you quickly noticed the faint scars that were littered across the impressive expanse of his back. Were they from trainings, or from actual battles? Either way, you were surprised that he had any at all because of his technique. You assumed this whole time that his skin would be completely unblemished from any kind of visible injury. Not that you're thinking much about his skin...
Your thoughts were broken again when he plugged his phone into the charger on the nightstand and turned it off. Despite your panic, you didn't move from how you were laying.
Satoru didn't seem to mind. He stretched his arms above his head, shoulders and biceps flexing, as he turned and got underneath the covers. He snickered when he found you already looking at him. "See something you like?" Satoru muttered deeply, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows for effect.
He didn't need a light to be on to be able to see the color on your cheeks, but he chuckled as you tried to turn away all flustered. "Hey now, I'm just joking. I'm sorry." Satoru placed a hand to your shoulder, motioning for you to face him again. The skin of your shoulder was surprisingly cold, but that didn't take away from its silken feel. You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek as you murmured an apology.
You'd never shared a bed with anyone in your life. It was odd, but with Satoru, you didn't feel too uncomfortable luckily. You've heard horror stories about other women sharing beds with their husbands. The snoring, the problems with space, being too hot or too cold, too many blankets and pillows or too little, the types of mattresses they preferred, etc. While you did share a bed with him last night, there was no telling if he had any of those issues since you were already asleep when he came to bed.
However, you did remember how he looked when he was still asleep after you woke up. It was... too peaceful of a look for a man that had just killed for you less than 24 hours before.
He had killed for you. And now you were sharing a bed with him.
Killed. Well, you knew way before marrying him that he had done such before. Why does this suddenly change your perception of him?
Yet despite that, you assumed he was a sound sleeper, which you could be thankful for even though you probably will not have to share a bed with him much in the future. It's quite interesting that an attack is what led to you both doing so for the first time. You'd like to wonder what would have had to happen for you to see him asleep like that without the current contexts.
Before long, you were realizing it was going to be very hard for you to fall asleep. You tried counting your breaths to focus on doing so, something that would usually have you out in no time.
You counted up to 256 before deciding to give up.
Your head turned to where Satoru was laying with his back to you, his breaths steady. Once again, your eyes caught the scars of his back that barely peaked over what the blanket covered.
You let out a heavy breath.
"Satoru."
"Mmmm?" He's awake.
"How did you get the scars on your back?"
"Oh y'know," a yawn, "mostly sparring and whatnot. Maybe a curse here or there."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
You paused a little. "I thought... your technique prevented others from being able to touch you. I thought that..."
"That I was indestructible?" He chuckled, his voice low.
You shifted a little. "I'm sorry, I-"
"No, it's fine. You don't have to apologize for asking." After a moment, Satoru added, "As you probably... have noticed, it's important for me to be able to defend myself without my technique to aid me, to prepare for any worse case scenario. Lot of these are curtesy of Suguru being too rough on me, heh. But... I was never always a full expert when it came to my technique, contrary to what most people believe. I had to become an expert. These just show part of the path to doing it."
You hummed in response.
"But don't worry, they don't call me The Strongest for nothing. I'm fully capable of protecting-" Satoru paused when he felt your fingers brush his shoulder.
Just before he could register it, you quickly moved them away, withdrawing your hand beneath the covers. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."
"No," he murmured, shifting himself to face you now, his head propped up by a hand as he reached to grab your hand and place it right over his heart. For a brief moment, he thought of yesterday when you had grabbed his hand, but now, he was going to take further advantage of your touch. You stared at where his palm held your fingers against the expanse of his chest, his skin warm and dare you say inviting.
"(Y/N)," he whispered, your open gaze locking onto his sincere one, "just because my technique prevents others from touching me doesn't mean I don't like to be touched."
Your mouth slightly agape, you took in the planes of his handsome face illuminated by the rays of a streetlight coming in from the window, hitting the blinds and creating stripes against his face in the dark. One of those stripes hit his eyes, which you took in first, and made your way down, observing the clean slope of his nose, his shaped lips, down the curve of his neck, to your hand being pressed into his chest by his larger one, and back up.
The way Satoru looked at you then, he knew. He knew that you needed him, but not in some passionate or carnal way, but in a way that someone wants cream and sugar in their coffee, or a candle in their book nook on a rainy day. Something familiar, yet more. And even if he had just killed someone yesterday for you, to protect you, he was still the person that you found comfort in each day, that made you feel somewhat worth something more than a last name a potential asset.
"You look cold." The timbre of his voice could have probably warmed you from the inside out, but only for a moment.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then c'mere pretty girl."
Did Satoru expect last night to go the way it did? Definitely not. But when he felt you take the little extra initiative to barely touch his back, he knew he had to make it go that way.
He didn't anticipate or really want anything more than just the cuddling. It didn't take long for you to warm up and fall asleep, listening to the sound of his heart. He was surprised that you didn't ask why it was beating so fast, let alone fall asleep as swiftly as you did while having to hear it.
But he was right, your body did fit perfectly against his. Your head had rested against him sweetly, cushioned by that spot between his chest and shoulder. His arms had wrapped around you, his hands finding purchase on your back and waist. The position of his chin on your head gave him perfect access to kiss your forehead if he wanted to, but he didn't want to push the boundaries too far.
Okay, maybe he ended up giving you two anyway. He tried to hold out and lasted probably about 30 minutes. He just couldn't help it! Not to mention, you smelled so good-
He was half tempted to give you another one right now as you two lay here the next morning, with you still blissfully unconscious. On the nightstand behind you two, your phone began to buzz with a call. Whoever was trying to get you awake right now could go to hell. He didn't want this moment to end.
However, even after the person had called you another time, and then proceeded to leave four more texts, Satoru figured he would see what the fuss was about.
He strained to reach behind him, careful not to disturb your slumber, as he grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Turning it on, he smiled at the already established lock screen of Sugar before noticing the messages.
Keisuke Kamo
Hey, glad to hear you're alright. Just heard about the attack last night.
Keisuke Kamo
I know I had just visited recently, but we need to talk. In person, preferably.
Keisuke Kamo
Just call me back when you can so we can set something up. Please bring Gojo Satoru with you too.
Keisuke Kamo
Please (Y/N). This is serious...
Turns out Satoru wouldn't be able to enjoy your brief solace for much longer.
Gojo who loves simple acts of dominance, in both sexual and non sexual scenarios. Gojo who loves it when you ask him for help when carrying something heavy, he would graciously take it from you, flexing his muscles as you watched him work. Gojo who loved staying fit, part of the reason being he loved your reactions to his body. He would always make sure to strut his stuff around the house in a compression shirt, not missing the way your eyes stayed glued to him, the way you weren’t quite paying attention when he spoke “Gonna answer my question sweets or you gonna keep eye fucking me?” Gojo who would love when instead of holding his hand in public you would wrap your hands around his thick bicep. Gojo who loved being able to pick you up with ease, he loved watching your eyes light up when he would throw you about. Gojo who would wrap the bicep you loved so much around your neck while fucking you, putting you in a headlock while he destroys your pussy. Gojo who would throw you onto the bed with ease, pinning your pretty little wrists above your head “no where to run now angel”. Gojo who knew how much you loved it when he put you in your place, throwing you over his lap and bringing his huge hand down to spank you “shhh, take it for me pretty girl” Gojo who would use his strength to his advantage, pinning your hips when you were too squirmy, making you take every inch of his cock
im sorry if i sound rude but will the color blue be continued?
yes it has !! you can read the next chapter here. and don't worry, i fell off the face of the earth with no warning, so you're totally valid for asking. i also just posted regarding why i did, which you can read here as well for more detail lol. happy reading !!
Babe ive been looking to your "the color blue" im so sad it discontinued right when it was getting good 😩😩😩
Although no rush! I hope you're doing well and taking care of yourself take allll the time you need bubs !! :) 💗💗
hello anon !! and i apologize for the late response. the next chapter for the color blue can be found here. thank you for your sentiment and i hope you enjoy it! <3
hello lovelies! i just wanted to clear up some things regarding my time spent away from tumblr.
as we all know, life can get in the way of a lot of things. as i have mentioned in some earlier posts, i’m a university student, which many can know is almost a full time job on its own, and my areas of study can be pretty demanding. creative writing is quite literally everything i gear my studies towards and want to pursue professionally, so when i have to choose what i am writing for the day or during when time i have, i will have to choose to focus on something that will benefit my grade or professional career. in addition, i have to give time to a part time job to cover my expenses. i’m sure anyone who is studying any kind of creative medium or any kind of writing can understand these sentiments.
furthermore, i’ve had to undergo some scary things for me regarding my mental health. at the beginning of the school year, i had a hospital visit that resulted in my body developing a weird anxious trauma response. that, combined with some lifestyle changes i have made in recent years, has me feeling the repercussions of this almost daily, and has made school and honestly just life really difficult.
i don't want to make this post to defend myself, but rather to inform. i appreciate all of those who reached out about regarding updates to my fics, particularly The Color Blue, and take no offense to anyone asking when the next part was going to be out. i wanted everyone to understand what caused me to disappear, and what may likely cause me to disappear again.
however, i feel that this is also a lesson in just how low-risk the platform of tumblr is for writing. i applaud those who have beautifully designed fanfiction blogs that update consistently and have a great following. however, there is no reputation or revenue or job opportunity riding on your tumblr page, but people still enjoy it because it's fun and a great creative outlet. i feel the same way about it. while i do turn to other platforms and methods to write my more professional pieces, writing for tumblr is still something i enjoy, and can be used for great practice. plus, i love sharing my ideas + stories with y'all!
thank you lovelies, especially all those who take their time to read this post. likelihood is, i'll try to focus on my longer works, but will resort to little fun character blurbs and headcanons when i can. if you have any requests for these, don't hesitate to ask. (it may end up getting me more motivated!)
image taken from @ lovevivianne on pinterest; borders created by @anitalenia
Synopsis: As the only daughter to the leader of the Kamo Clan, you were trained and protected to one day bring your father honor through your marriage to the heir of the Gojo Clan. However, your husband ended up being something that your family never prepared you for. As you come to navigate a new world of politics between the clans, your husband convinces you that there is nothing wrong with honoring yourself too.
Warnings and Content: fem! reader, slightly ooc! (?) gojo, mostly fluff with a smidge of tension, cat :), small signs of past mental and physical abuse, violence, death, guns, knives, bit of blood, explosion caused by gojo’s technique, mentions of bruising and choking, brief threats, bits of trauma after an attack, healing myself a little after season 2, sharing a bed, gojo teasing, brief argument, reader says something about her not caring if she dies but doesn’t mean it, cursing, gojo has scars, cuddles and secret kisses :)
Author's Note: Hello everyone. This chapter has been a long time coming, and I apologize that I fell off the face of the earth. More of that will be explained later. However, I want to thank those that did message me and have been enjoying this story so far, but we know how life can get. I had a great time writing this during what little time I had, and it's also a little longer than my usual chapters. So, without further ado, here's chapter 3 !! Remember to catch up on The Color Blue if you haven't done so before reading !! For those of you who I may have forgotten to add in the taglist or would like to be added, comment below!
Word Count: ~8.8k
Apparently, even The Strongest got the jitters. Satoru didn't think it was possible, yet here he was, his leg bouncing as he sat in the back seat of the car as it pulled up to the long, winding driveway of the estate.
He would admit to himself that he was counting down the days, and then even the hours, until he got to see you again. It felt ridiculous at this point, the quickening heartbeat knowing you were getting closer by the second, the smile he tried to hide whenever you crossed his mind.
And the... other thoughts he had of you over his trip as well. He had those a little more than he was willing to admit in your absence.
The driver pulled up to the front entrance and Satoru retrieved his duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder. He went up the steps, opened the door...
He frowned when you weren't on the other side. He thought that maybe you would greet him in the foyer. Oh well, just meant he would have to go looking for you. Satoru started with your kitchen, then the living room... maybe inside your bedroom?
He opened your door, calling your name. Immediately, as if startled, you jumped up from your bed, hands behind your back, the book in your lap clattering to the floor. Satoru's eyebrows raised at your sudden movement.
"W-welcome home, Satoru! How was your flight back?" you exclaimed. Something must be-
"Mmrreow..."
A cat's soft purr sounded in the air.
"Whatcha got there?"
"A book...?"
Satoru chuckled and smirked, his arms now resting at his sides. "I don't think that was a book..."
Your face scrunched up as your arms moved from behind your back. "Please don't be upset..."
You revealed a small ragdoll cat, probably only a few months old, it's singular eye scanning before it landed on Satoru. Satoru gasped and, like a child being presented with a new toy, threw his duffel bag aside and took the cat into his arms.
You've never heard a grown man squeal. That being said, your worried face softened into a grin.
"When did you get this little cutie?" Satoru laughed, turning the cat over in one arm to pet her little stomach.
"W-well... you told me before you left that... your money is my money, and I've always wanted a cat. I made sure I did my research, though! I bought her from a shelter, and made sure to get her the required vaccinations-"
"Does she have a name?" he exclaimed, handing the cat to you.
"I named her Sugar... if you don't like it, we can-"
"Sugar! Awww, that's the perfect name!!" he cooed, petting Sugar under her chin, her right and only eye squinting as she purred. "She already likes me too..."
Sugar moved out of your arms to lay on your bed as you strode to reach for a book on your dresser. A book for taking care of kittens, he realized. "You don't have to worry about taking care of her. I have her food ready for the next few months, the best kind I could find for her breed and age, and I already have her litter set up in the laundry room. I'm keeping her toys in my room as well," you explained, already paging through the book to support your points.
Satoru looked at you from where he started to kneel at the foot of your bed, getting up close and personal with the new feline friend. He admired your sudden commitment, but... "You don't want my help?" Satoru questioned, cocking his head.
"Well, I figured since I'm the one who bought her, I should take care of her. I don't want to inconvenience you," you answered, clasping your hands with the book in front of you.
"It's not really that much of an inconvenience. The only reason I never got one before was because I felt bad that I was almost never home. But now that you're here, it makes it a lot easier. It's not like you got a dog," he reasoned, now standing to full height while petting across the fur of Sugar's back. "If you really want to take full responsibility, that's fine, but I don't mind helping. I just can't promise I can or will want to change the litter."
You let out a small laugh. "I'm okay with that then..."
After a few moments of silence, you picked up your gaze from the floor, a soft smile on your face and a question on your tongue, only to see Satoru looking at you already.
You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He had such sweet eyes, like blue cotton candy, and the way he looked at you with them was even sweeter. A small blush warmed your cheeks as you averted your eyes. What were you going to say again?
"Something wrong, pretty girl?"
"W-what? Oh, no, I was just... going to ask how your trip was?"
Satoru shrugged. "Meh, nothing out of the usual. Just a few grade ones here and there, but finding a special grade was a little interesting. I took care of that one too. Oh, and there was this one store-"
Satoru ended up ranting about all of the new stores and restaurants he tried out for an hour, even if you did remember some of these places from your short, daily phone calls. He even paused to retrieve something from his bag at one point: a delicate antique comb with pearls in the handle. A gift, as well as something that reminded him of you.
You took it from him to arrange in your jewelry box. You found it quite absurd that Satoru was telling you more about his leisure time that he spent in Kyoto rather than the curses he fought. You couldn't tell if he was just trying to spare you the gruesome details, or he if really didn't feel like it was that important to talk about. Perhaps to him, these curses were like stones on his path to be kicked or flies he shooed away from his face, barely worth mentioning. At least, that's what it seemed like to you.
It scared you a bit.
"(Y/N)?" Your thoughts broke as he said your name, one of his hands resting on Sugar as he sat by her and the other resting on his knee while he looked at you. "You good?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine..."
"Really? You don't seem like it..." Satoru expressed, now rising from your bed to walk over to you. Since he had left, you had forgotten how much taller he was than you. "Is everything okay? I never got to ask how you were here without me..."
Your face shifted as he said that. "May I confess something?"
His eyebrows raised. "Yes, go ahead."
You held the book in your hands close to your chest. "When... when I first started to live here, I found your presence... unwanted and... a bit frightening. I got more accustomed to it and... as we became friends it had become normal. But when you left for this mission, I didn't realize how used to it I had gotten. So much so that... sometimes, when I found myself eating or going about the house or cleaning our living spaces, I would suddenly feel... I felt-"
"Is this your way of saying you missed me?" Satoru interrupted, a smug grin reaching the handsome planes of his face.
Your face flushed. "W-well, yes! But, what I was trying to get to is that-"
"I can't believe it. (Y/N) actually likes me! Maybe she won't move across the world from me after all, haha!!" Satoru gasped sarcastically before pumping his fist in triumph, to which you huffed. Satoru snickered, ruffling your hair. "Heeey, it's okay. You can admit that you missed your darling, awesome husband."
"Not just my husband. My friend," you returned, a grateful smile gracing your features. He mirrored that same smile, his hands on his hips. After a beat too long, you sauntered past him back to Sugar, who was now curled on your bed. "That being said, I think we should celebrate your return."
"Celebrate?" Satoru's eyes followed you as you walked, subtly taking the shape of your waist as you moved and shoving the ensuing thoughts deep down.
"Yes, as both a welcoming party for Sugar and for your return home," you replied, taking the slumbering kitten in your arms. "Also, mostly because I haven't had anyone to cook for this past week."
Satoru picked up his duffel bag and followed you out the door towards the stairs. "Surely that isn't the only reason you missed me?" he laughed.
"Well, nothing else is coming to mind," you joked right back, turning to him. Satoru looked back at you wide-eyed, an opened mouth grin forming on his face. Did you just... go along with one of his sarcastic gags? Telling by the little hidden smile you were giving him, you were.
This was new.
Satoru just huffed and shrugged, taking a step past you to open his bedroom door. "I think I'm rubbing off on you, pretty girl. Maybe I should've stayed away longer..."
You tried to hide your flush by avoiding eye contact, the sudden drop in octave in his voice causing you to go warm. He saw it anyway. Almost expected it at this point, given how predictable your reactions were. He stepped through his bedroom doorway, duffel bag on his shoulder once more, the epitome of smug satisfactory on his face.
Until you gripped his hand, looking up at him with eyes that could bring him to his knees. "I'm glad your home, Satoru."
It was the first time that you had ever initiated such contact. You knew it of course, and so did he. He clung to that unspoken fact, that knowing bit of trust and maybe something a bit more, as he engulfed your hand in his, giving it a small, warm squeeze.
"Me too..."
The two of you decided on a savory curry recipe for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but still delicious. Satoru chose to use the time as a way to try and test out that new found humor of yours, smiling to himself when he would get you to laugh or reply back with something witty. He'd been waiting to see this kind of side of you for a while, one that you had originally kept reserved, or maybe didn't even know that you had at all.
While eating, Satoru asked what you had been up to when he was away. "I was keeping up with my usual tasks. Nothing too special..." you said, looking down at your plate as you spooned some of the curry.
Satoru stared at you as you did, a small frown on his face. "So you didn't get out at all or do anything?" He also wanted to question why you couldn't seem to look at him right now, but he pushed the thought aside.
You shook your head, taking a bite. "Other than running errands or picking out Sugar, no."
"Well, maybe we should-"
Satoru paused.
You looked up at his sudden silence. "Satoru?"
He shushed you immediately, causing you to bite your tongue. He stared ahead, as if peering right through the wall ahead of him. He was peering right through the wall, using his Six Eyes. You could tell by the feint bits of cursed energy seeping into the room.
Then slowly, ever so slowly, Satoru peeled himself from his seat, his expression suddenly hard. The staff had gone home for the day already, Sugar was sleeping under your feet... What could he possibly be going to check?
"Stay here," he murmured, his voice low. His tone sent a shiver of fear down your spine, not just because of its command, but for whatever the reason could be to change his demeanor so suddenly.
"Satoru, what is it-" you began, your voice hushed and brow furrowed.
"Stay here," he growled, his head snapping in your direction as you barely rose from your seat. You complied, inching back down. "I'll be right back."
And with that, he moved, keeping a brisk pace as he opened the door that led to the rest of the estate, and shut it behind him. Worry began to coil in your gut, the thought of what could be so wrong that Satoru would have to just get up and leave. A few seconds passed, then a minute, more minutes...
You couldn't take it. You had to know something. Even if Satoru instructed you to stay put... as long as you didn't leave your shared part of the house, it would be okay, right?
You rose from your chair slowly, the wood scraping against the floor as you padded over to the door at a snail's pace, an anticipatory feeling curling in your gut. Fear, something you knew almost all too well. It didn't help that your inner thoughts at the moment were your father's voice, laying out possible consequences and outcomes-
And yet, you grabbed the handle and swung the wide oak door open. Nothing but the dark hall and the stairwell beyond it greeted you.
"Satoru?" You thought that maybe he was playing a thoughtless prank, trying to scare you all for nothing. You almost expected him to pop out from behind you for a moment. No response.
You sighed, turning to shut the door, just before Sugar slipped past you, running. Of course, after her nap her boundless energy would push her towards the one place you didn't want her to be. You lunged forward to grab her, but the kitten only ran further away, as if daring you to catch her in some sort of game. If Satoru saw her, he would know that you must have opened the door at some point!
"Sugar!" you called, running down the hall after her.
"Who wants to tell me how you found my home? First to speak up dies last."
None of the thirty armed men standing in the garden said anything, sticking to aiming their useless guns. Satoru stood before them, arms crossed, the only thing between them and the house. And you.
"Okay, how about an easier question. Who hired you and how did you get past the wards?"
Wards had been placed all around the estate centuries ago when it was first built. No one had ever gotten past them. Until now.
It was almost embarrassing, too. None of these fuckers had any cursed energy, yet he had sensed them creeping through the treeline during dinner. He would've paid it no mind, since the barrier created by the wards should have stopped them. But they had walked right on through, and the barrier probably tickled them with a shock at best. He'd have to check their integrity later. But for now...
"Do I have to treat you like my students and pick on one of you?" Satoru snickered, a hand on his hip. This was a waste of time. The sooner he could get past the easy part, the sooner he could continue dinner with you and figure out who had sent these idiots so he could pay them a surprise visit. He didn't appreciate unexpected guests, especially while in the company of his wife.
Satoru sighed. "Okay then, you." Satoru pointed to one of the men on his left, and the man's arm twisted and exploded in blood and bone, causing him to let out a blood curdling scream. The men replied with open fire, to which Satoru easily blocked with his infinity.
Some of them refrained for a moment, realizing that this was no ordinary target, and that he was no ordinary man. The men stopped firing altogether, bewildered, and watched as the bullets clattered to the soft grass in front of him as he dropped his infinity.
"Should I ask one more time?" Satoru seethed lowly, stalking towards the group. A few of the sensible ones backed away a few steps. One man began to shake.
Satoru turned his head in that man's direction, watching him. The man cried out, and fired off his automatic rifle in a fit of terror, the bullets catching some of his team. The others began to fire with reckless abandon.
Satoru began to take care of them quickly, trying not to waste too much energy as he moved between each target. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Move, apprehend, strike, kill, repeat. Each bit of blood he poured only hit the infinity barrier he kept up and blew off like rain on a windshield. But he needed to keep one alive-
There. One was running back through the trees; a coward then, someone likely to confess. He made quick work of the rest, before running after the escaping man not too far into the surrounding forest.
Satoru caught him by his shoulder, ripped his gun away, and flung him to the ground, putting his shoe to the man's chest. "Talk."
"I-I don't know-"
"Then know. Or you'll end up just like the rest."
"But I can't. I won't. He won't let me remember-"
Satoru's head inclined. "Who?"
The man beneath him let out a shaky breath, pointing back towards the house. A knife was thrown from that direction into the man's neck. Satoru's eyes widened, looking back and-
Someone was dragging you through the back garden doors. They had cursed energy.
Satoru teleported back in a heartbeat, right behind the person, bared hands going to wrap around their neck-
But they reacted too quickly. The person, a woman, whirled you in front of herself, holding you up by your neck as a shield. Your choking made Satoru see red.
"Not so fast, Limitless," she purred. "Step back, or I snap her neck."
It would be so easy to snap hers instead, but he didn't know her technique. He didn't know what she could do to you. He complied reluctantly, and the woman set you down and let you breathe before gently resting a jagged dagger against your throat.
The woman was clearly a cursed user of some kind. Tall, form fitting, her muscular body contrasting the elegance of her red kimono and feminine face. She flashed him a saccharine smile. Whoever she was, Satoru didn't recognize her.
"So nice to finally meet you," the woman careened. "Your wife and I have already gotten acquainted." She pressed the knife closer towards the soft expanse of your neck, the sharp edge tickling your skin. You winced.
"Satoru-"
"It's okay, (Y/N)," he breathed out. But it wasn't okay. He had been a damn fool, telling you stay in the house, unprotected. No, he was a fool for following that last attacker into the forest. He was only there to draw him out, so this woman could slip in undetected. "Why didn't you stay in put-"
"That was my doing, actually," the woman smiled, raising her other hand from your nape. Satoru tensed, but instead Sugar appeared from beside her. The woman moved her hand in a circular motion, and Sugar mimicked it, spinning at the same speed of her hand before walking off. "A little party trick. Mrs. Gojo seems rather fond of the animal, so I figured she would rush to protect it when it "decided" to run off." And lured you to the garden just so she could pluck you out.
So, mind control. That was her technique. Satoru huffed. "I will admit, I haven't seen that one before. But what do you want?"
The woman shrugged. "Why don't you guess?"
Satoru's eyes narrowed, trying not to let his slight panic get to him as he saw tears begin to slip down your face. She would pay for that. "Well, lots of people have their reasons. There's always a price for my head, so it could be that, but you seem pretty smart. You know you can't kill me," the woman grinned, "so you went for her. And now I have to... give you something, I presume?"
"Perhaps." The woman began thrumming her fingers on your collarbone. "It is something that you have. Try thinking a little harder."
Satoru crossed his arms, making a show of trying to come up with an answer. "Well, I do have a lot of money, but with your talents you don't seem to need to get it from me. I have valuable information on a vast variety of top secret jujustu subject matters, but really, you don't have to go through me to get those, and, even if you did, I really don't remember anything important, I mean, c'mon look at me. Sooo... other than that I would assume you're trying tooooo get my attention? In which case then, oh, I'm flattered and you seem like a nice gal, but I'm a married man so... what do you want?"
"I want her, dumbass," the woman growled, clearly upset by Satoru's rambling. She pressed the knife point underneath your chin, your chest heaving as you groaned. "Do you know what people would do for Death Immunity? What anyone would-"
"Oh, well, you could've just said so," Satoru grumbled. "Anyway, she-"
A thousand blades lunged at light speed from the trees, all aimed for him, which he deflected without a thought. He turned his head to look at them once they had clattered against the concrete, the knives identical to the one the woman was holding against you. "Geez, did you do that? Where were you keeping all those?" He put a hand to his head, trying to peer into the direction they came from.
The woman's demeanor went from peeved to panic when her surprised attack failed, clutching you tighter in her grasp, her grip beginning to bruise along your collarbone.
"Well, as I was saying," Satoru continued, turning back to the assailant. His eyes briefly took in the woman's nails digging into your skin, his voice rumbling a shade darker. "She's already mine, so I'm afraid you've come here for no fucking reason, other than to get killed. So, without further ado-"
Satoru raised his arm with killer quickness, a blue flash from his hand near blinding you as he aimed and released it into the woman's face. Before the blast could fully take, he pulled you to his chest, turning and shielding you both with his infinity as the woman's head was detonated so fast that her vocal cords were incinerated before she could scream.
You let out a painful sob as he pulled you to his chest firmly, hunching over you with an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders. Only when he felt the implosion recede and heard the woman's body thump to the ground did he stand fully and let you turn around. "Are you hurt-"
Your first reaction was to look behind him to where the woman's corpse was still smoking, or what was left of it. "No, no, don't look," he murmured, forcing your head back into his chest. You were a mess, breath heaving, sobs racking your throat, eyes puffy and still crying fat tears.
" 'M sorry! 'M so sorry-" you choked.
"Don't apologize, you're okay now. I've got you. You're safe," Satoru whispered, trying to ground you, rocking you side to side as he cupped your face firmly, bringing his forehead to yours. His hands were warm, so unlike that woman's. Thumbs wiping your tears, he stroked your cheek as if it was the only thing able to pull you back to reality. "You're safe. I've got you."
The investigation at the Gojo estate started within an hour of the attack and was still ongoing the next morning. Members of Jujustu High's Tokyo staff came to help with investigation and cleanup. After they debriefed you, Satoru asked Suguru if the two of you could crash at his apartment for a while, just until he was sure that the location of this estate and the others under the Gojo name were secure. Suguru agreed, leaving with you in tow so you could get some rest and to make sure you were well protected.
Now, those involved in the investigation met in the estate dining room. The chandelier light played off the ancient mahogany walls, overshadowed by the streams of golden sunlight bleeding through the skinny, arching windows and glinting against the many colored alcohol bottles sitting on the flight of shelves against the opposite wall.
Nobody reached for a glass though.
The first one to speak was Ijichi, having entered the room minutes after everyone else. "We have identified the female curse user," he said, passing off a matching folder to each person sitting at the table. "Her name was Kawate Kiko, a curse user who has been hired by many crime organizations and other private buyers for her skills, both in hunting humans and curses."
"And her cursed technique was mind control?" Yaga began.
"No."
All the heads turned to Satoru, sitting cross legged, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He had switched out his t-shirt and sweats from earlier to his official uniform. "It wasn't mind control. She was able to manipulate knives telepathically at rapid speeds, at numbers probably close to 100."
Shoko set down the file. "Do we have any clue who may have hired her and these men? Or what their motive may have been? Perhaps she hired them to help her."
Yaga grumbled. "Well, if someone didn't blow her face off-"
"Sorry that I didn't give a fuck. Not when she was holding a knife to my wife's throat," Satoru said lowly and firmly. The room went quiet before he sighed and spoke again. "Things don't add up. The men, we know, were all ex-convicts and low lives of local Tokyo crime rigs, with little to no connection to one another or any part of the jujustu world. They would have had no reason to suddenly band together for a hunt like this, especially with someone of Kawate's caliber. Secondly, the man that I hunted down in the forest said he didn't know why he was there and that someone, a he, was preventing him from remembering. Not she. And with 30 non-curse users getting through the estate ward barrier with guns and armor they had no money to possess... there had to have been someone else here tonight with those assets and that technique. Someone with enough caliber to hire someone like Kawate to play along with them. Someone behind the scenes of everything."
"But I thought they were after (Y/N). Why the hell would the other guy not show himself after Kawate was killed?" Kusakabe grumbled.
"Cowardice? Maybe realizing that the entire operation was an impossible job and decided to flee?" Shoko proposed.
Yaga leaned back in his chair. "What doesn't make sense is that someone must have had access to these wards or known how to manipulate them. No one else has access, right?"
Satoru shook his head. "I'm the only person alive that should know how to work mine, but that doesn't mean someone somehow could have been taking the time to study them and learned to break them. But that would also require an insane amount of energy, not to mention the knowledge behind such ancient artifacts."
"But who would try that when they know you could detect them from miles away?" Kusakabe countered.
"I wasn't home this past week, and (Y/N) can't detect them," Satoru pointed. "They must have done it then."
"Do you know who was here, then?" Yaga questioned.
"(Y/N) never mentioned visitors. I could always ask her to see," Satoru replied. "Anyways, tell my students they have the next week off. Little impromptu study week. I'm going to find the clowns that started this," Satoru groaned, stretching as he pushed back his chair. "You guys can handle the rest here, yeah? I'm pooped."
"But this is your house-" Yaga protested, but didn't continue as Satoru meandered out the door.
Suguru let him in to his complex at 9:26am, riding up the elevator and walking down the hall to his place.
Satoru always envied Suguru whenever he walked into this apartment, that he had a place to be truly his. Well, as much as Mimiko and Nanako, his adoptive daughters, would let him, with their free range on the decorating. Suguru had saved the two of them with Satoru's help from a village that meant to imprison and abuse them. Shortly after, Suguru had bought this place with what money he had amassed over the years, a home for him and the girls, one where they could heal and form a sense of new identity, Suguru included. And for him, that meant taking the two seven year olds under his wing.
Suguru said something about how had he had been going over the reports that Ijichi had dropped off before he arrived, and while Satoru was happy to catch him up, he just wanted to talk to you, see how you were holding up.
"I think she's still sleeping," Suguru informed, probably sensing his unease. "She didn't end up going to bed until early this morning. She wanted to go take a walk, but I convinced her tea would be better. That was at 4am, and I haven't heard her since."
Satoru thanked Suguru, and walked down the narrow hallway to the guest bedroom, one that he had grown accustomed to staying in when the estate felt too big and he felt too lonely. He pried open the door softly, peering through the crack to see your form under the blankets, and stepped inside. He made quiet work of changing out of his uniform, picking out a pair of pajama pants you had folded and neatly packed into his duffel bag before you left, and sat on the edge of the bed opposite of you, the bed creaking under his weight.
He observed how you were curled into a fetal position, your arms wrapped around a pillow (that he instantly grew envious of), and while the sight would have made him smile, he could see the other things too. Your hair looked unkempt and limp, you were still wearing the same clothes, and he couldn't smell your usual vanilla and lavender bath oil, meaning you probably didn't shower. Besides the wanting to take a walk, Suguru never mentioned you wanting to cook or read or maybe even clean, activities that Satoru had known you to do when restless or stressed. You probably only passed out from pure exhaustion.
He hated he couldn't have been here sooner. Hated that he told you to stay inside. Hated he didn't just deal with the problem as soon as possible before they could draw you out like that. Hated that he had just come home and now you both have these other problems to deal with.
He was going to have ask you more questions when you got up too, but for now... he needed sleep. Badly. Didn't even care how much he needed a shower right now or that he was about to sleep next to you in the same bed for the first time.
Satoru got under the blanket, the bed just big enough for there to be about a foot of room between the two of you. He turned on his side and stared at your back, wanting to close that distance so desperately, to pull you right into his chest, into his arms, and to feel your warmth and your breathing against him to remind him that he was next to you, and that you were safe. To feel your hair against his face and neck, your skin underneath his fingertips.
Instead he just stared. And then slept.
When Satoru awoke again, the sun was already setting. As soon as he arose to look for you, Suguru's girls were already dragging him down towards the living room floor to stick butterfly clips and extensions into his hair. It wasn't until he was able to turn in the direction of the kitchen that he saw you stirring something over the stove as Suguru stood next to you, a drink in his hand as he spoke softly. To his surprise, you replied to each thing he said with equal calmness.
Shortly after the two of you had married, Satoru did want to introduce Suguru to you, but after seeing how you reacted to being around just him, he didn't want to put you into a situation you might be uncomfortable with. However, it seems now that maybe Satoru didn't have to worry. You two appeared to have similar personalities anyway. He's surprised he didn't think of that to begin with.
Even as the girls stepped around him from where he sat, Satoru could barely make out the bruises from where Kawate had gripped you whenever you turned to face Suguru, who seemed to have gotten you onto the topic of whatever dinner you were making. Good. Getting your mind off the past 24 hours will help you to better process everything later, when Satoru would inevitably have to ask more questions.
It was odd. Normally, you would let him know you were having visitors coming over the second you knew. Unless since he was gone you decided to not tell him, or maybe they came over unexpectedly? Whoever they were, they would only be able to study the wards from the inside, so anyone who would have visited the estate is a potential suspect. His staff had all been questioned that morning and ruled out as well, so it had to have been anyone you had contact with from outside the estate wards.
And what was Death Immunity-
Satoru's thoughts were interrupted by the girls shoving a handheld mirror in his face for him to look at his new hairdo, the white tuffs of his hair being littered with colorful bits like confetti frosting. "Wow, you two, I'm gorgeous! What's next? My nails? My face?" Satoru exclaimed, touching up his hair and making faces that made the girls squeal in fits of giggles.
"How about dinner?" Suguru chimed in, arms crossed as he stood before the three of them with a smile. In the background, you were busy pouring whatever was in the pot into bowls for the five of you, adding ice cubes into the girls' portions.
Satoru stood, letting Nanako and Mimiko drag him into a chair between the two of theirs as you and Suguru sat across from them. Suguru helped you carry the bowls filled with a veggie and beef stew to the table with glasses of water to drink. The spirited conversation of the children kept the table from going completely silent, which Satoru was thankful for, but he kept his eyes on you throughout most of the meal, watching as you smiled sometimes and nodded but never really gave much input into anything. He knew you were still trying to work through everything that happened. In fact, given your reaction, maybe last night was the closest you've ever actually been to death. The jujustu community had become so desensitized to it that even he forgot to check in on how the view of a smoking corpse or the feeling of a blade to your skin may have affected you.
Soon enough the two of you were beginning to hand wash the dishes, Satoru giving Suguru a thankful nod as he guided Mimiko and Nanako to their rooms when they tried to pull Satoru back to their makeshift salon. You and him fell quickly into a rhythm, with you washing something before handing him it to dry, the light over the dining table behind both of you providing enough visibility.
"Geto is a nice man. Those girls seem to appreciate him as well," you murmured, taking Satoru a little by surprise. He didn't expect you to speak up.
"Yeah, he's a good guy," Satoru replied. "A great sorcerer too as much as he is a dad. I'm lucky he's my best friend."
You hummed and smiled to yourself. "That's good."
After a moment, Satoru snickered, "So, you think he's attractive?"
You furrowed your brow, holding the newly washed dish away from him as you turned your face in his direction. "Satoru, that's not funny."
"You're not denying iiiitt~" he sang, smiling wider and pointing at you with the towel.
"No, I don't think that. Why would you say that?" you muttered sharply, handing him the bowl you had in hand before reaching for the soap to scrub the pot.
"Well, you two seemed to be chatting it up over here while you were making dinner," he teased, laughing to himself. He didn't even know why he was asking these things. He knew teasing you was normal, but why about this? Why now? Of course he wanted to take your mind off of things but-
"He was talking to me about you, Satoru," you replied, a slightly hardened look on your face. "I don't want you to think that-"
"Think what? That you might have feelings for someone? Shh, it's okay, I won't tell," he whispered with a laugh. You were talking about him? "Really, (Y/N), your secret-"
"Satoru, why are you asking me this?" you interrupted, handing him the last pot. "Why are you..." You shook your head before continuing, opting to walk to the bedroom you two were sharing.
"Wait, (Y/N)-" Satoru set the pot into the sink with the towel, his large steps quickly catching up with you as the two of you stepped through the doorway. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."
"I know," you murmured, gently sitting on the bed. "I know you're just... trying to take my mind off of things, which I appreciate. But-"
"Yeah, I shouldn't have done it like that, I know. That was a kinda dick way to do it," Satoru said, scratching that back of his head.
You grit your teeth, folding your hands in your lap. "It's okay... I understand." After a pause you added. "I've been worried for Sugar this whole time."
"She's okay. We just want to be sure she's safe before we can have custody of her again. And don't worry, Shoko has cats of her own. She knows how to treat them good." Satoru made sure it was Shoko that got to examine Sugar and not someone that would cut her open and dissect her like some common animal. You nodded along to his words, staring at the wall ahead.
"I... the other sorcerers at Jujustu Tech. They wanted me to ask some things... if that's okay. If not we can wait till later-" he began. Maybe be shouldn't bring this up now.
"Didn't they already ask me questions?" you muttered.
"Yes, but..." Satoru kneeled in front of you were you sat, taking your hands in his. You almost had to stop yourself from letting out a laugh at the butterfly clips still in his hair. "(Y/N), it's imperative that you answer me honestly when I ask this."
Your eyes met his, your eyes narrowing in confusion. "Ask what? What more is there to ask?"
"Was there anyone that visited you during the time I was gone? Anyone that normally would not be at the house?"
Your mouth opened to speak, the answer clearly on the tip of your tongue. "W... why? Do you think they did this? How? Was it not somehow that woman that you-"
"I don't know, (Y/N), but what I do know is that if there was anyone you would have known about being on our property that is otherwise not welcome, they may have had a hand in destabilizing our wards, and I want us to be safe so we can return." Satoru squeezed your hands once more. "Was there anyone?"
You bit the inside of your cheek. Once. Twice. You sighed. "My brother, Keisuke."
Your brother? "Why did he come?"
You shook your head. "No, Satoru, he would never do anything like this-"
"(Y/N), I'm not saying he did but I need to start somewhere so that I can ensure that you and our home is safe. You understand, right?" Why were you so defensive suddenly? What did your brother do there?
"It wasn't his fault. There was no way he would have had any involvement! He wouldn't want to-"
Satoru stood. "You were almost kidnapped! You could have died-"
"And so what if I did!"
A beat.
"What."
Your hands clasped over your mouth. You looked like you were about to apologize. Satoru kneeled slowly.
"(Y/N)."
Your fists clenched. You were probably holding back tears.
"(Y/N). Don't you ever, ever, say something like that about yourself."
"I'm sorry-"
"Don't apologize," he hushed, now moving to sit beside you, an arm around your shoulders. "Just... you don't have to."
The two of you paused for minutes, not saying a word. He suddenly began to feel guilty, both for his teasing and for pressing you for details when the attack barely happened 24 hours ago. Hell, you could have died not too long ago, and now he was treating you like this. "We can talk about this later," Satoru murmured. "It was wrong of me to bring it up."
"No... it's alright," you whispered, hands coming to fold in your lap. "I'm sorry for arguing with you and... for my outburst."
"Don't sweat it."
"Is this what's its like to have an argument? And to then forgive immediately after?"
"Yeeeep." He added a little pop at the end.
"It feels wrong. But civil. But... wrong."
"Well, that's because most arguments just feel wrong. I like to think of them as passionate conversations, albeit sometimes with more hurtful comments or name calling." Satoru stood and started walking to the bathroom.
"But we didn't call each other names..." you murmured.
"We can right now if you want stinkybutt," he replied, turning to lean against the doorway while crossing his arms. He nodded in your direction.
"Okay then... uhm... asswipe."
"Woah, bringing out the big guns I see." Satoru placed a hand to his chest as if hurt, a playful grin on his face. "I didn't even know you knew how to curse, old lady!"
You dropped your mouth in a playful shock. "Well, I'm just imitating the best potty mouth I know, pompous bitch!"
He snickered before firing back. "You little asshole!"
"Bastard!"
"Fucker!"
"Dick!"
"Motherfucker!"
"Dick for brains!"
"Pretty girl..."
Your next insult halted in your throat, his little purr of those two words forcing a red shade to your cheeks. Before you could react, he spun into the bathroom and shut the door, locking it with a click.
"H-hey, that wasn't fair!" you protested, getting up from where you sat on the bed.
"What?! Can't talk right now I'm taking a shit!" he yelled back, the shower turning on immediately afterward. You just shook your head, smiling as you sighed. You changed into your nightgown, figuring you might as well lay down and wait until he was done so you could brush your teeth.
Was it really only a few minutes ago that the two of us were fighting? The conversation shifted so quickly. Did he do that on purpose? While almost any argument you had ever had ended quickly, it was almost never forgotten nor forgiven. Its reminders sometimes stayed on your body for days at a time. Either way, you were grateful. He was so good at distracting you from things, even things like near death experiences.
Distractions. Was this what this was? You still went to bed feeling lonely each night, but the next day he made you forget that you ever did. Maybe that was all you needed, all that anyone ever needed. To go to bed lonely, wake up, interact, forget, and then remember. You spent so much of your days alone before all of this. Does this mean you've become something normal? Perhaps. But was it still normal to feel incomplete?
You were so busy contemplating and staring at the wall that you didn't notice Satoru beginning to sit on the other side of the bed beside you, hair free of butterfly clips. Your thoughts broke when you heard the bed creak, making you turn over to face him.
His shirtless body was backlit from the brightness of his phone screen as he sat on the edge of the mattress. As he scrolled, you quickly noticed the faint scars that were littered across the impressive expanse of his back. Were they from trainings, or from actual battles? Either way, you were surprised that he had any at all because of his technique. You assumed this whole time that his skin would be completely unblemished from any kind of visible injury. Not that you're thinking much about his skin...
Your thoughts were broken again when he plugged his phone into the charger on the nightstand and turned it off. Despite your panic, you didn't move from how you were laying.
Satoru didn't seem to mind. He stretched his arms above his head, shoulders and biceps flexing, as he turned and got underneath the covers. He snickered when he found you already looking at him. "See something you like?" Satoru muttered deeply, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows for effect.
He didn't need a light to be on to be able to see the color on your cheeks, but he chuckled as you tried to turn away all flustered. "Hey now, I'm just joking. I'm sorry." Satoru placed a hand to your shoulder, motioning for you to face him again. The skin of your shoulder was surprisingly cold, but that didn't take away from its silken feel. You shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek as you murmured an apology.
You'd never shared a bed with anyone in your life. It was odd, but with Satoru, you didn't feel too uncomfortable luckily. You've heard horror stories about other women sharing beds with their husbands. The snoring, the problems with space, being too hot or too cold, too many blankets and pillows or too little, the types of mattresses they preferred, etc. While you did share a bed with him last night, there was no telling if he had any of those issues since you were already asleep when he came to bed.
However, you did remember how he looked when he was still asleep after you woke up. It was... too peaceful of a look for a man that had just killed for you less than 24 hours before.
He had killed for you. And now you were sharing a bed with him.
Killed. Well, you knew way before marrying him that he had done such before. Why does this suddenly change your perception of him?
Yet despite that, you assumed he was a sound sleeper, which you could be thankful for even though you probably will not have to share a bed with him much in the future. It's quite interesting that an attack is what led to you both doing so for the first time. You'd like to wonder what would have had to happen for you to see him asleep like that without the current contexts.
Before long, you were realizing it was going to be very hard for you to fall asleep. You tried counting your breaths to focus on doing so, something that would usually have you out in no time.
You counted up to 256 before deciding to give up.
Your head turned to where Satoru was laying with his back to you, his breaths steady. Once again, your eyes caught the scars of his back that barely peaked over what the blanket covered.
You let out a heavy breath.
"Satoru."
"Mmmm?" He's awake.
"How did you get the scars on your back?"
"Oh y'know," a yawn, "mostly sparring and whatnot. Maybe a curse here or there."
"Oh."
"Oh?"
You paused a little. "I thought... your technique prevented others from being able to touch you. I thought that..."
"That I was indestructible?" He chuckled, his voice low.
You shifted a little. "I'm sorry, I-"
"No, it's fine. You don't have to apologize for asking." After a moment, Satoru added, "As you probably... have noticed, it's important for me to be able to defend myself without my technique to aid me, to prepare for any worse case scenario. Lot of these are curtesy of Suguru being too rough on me, heh. But... I was never always a full expert when it came to my technique, contrary to what most people believe. I had to become an expert. These just show part of the path to doing it."
You hummed in response.
"But don't worry, they don't call me The Strongest for nothing. I'm fully capable of protecting-" Satoru paused when he felt your fingers brush his shoulder.
Just before he could register it, you quickly moved them away, withdrawing your hand beneath the covers. "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate."
"No," he murmured, shifting himself to face you now, his head propped up by a hand as he reached to grab your hand and place it right over his heart. For a brief moment, he thought of yesterday when you had grabbed his hand, but now, he was going to take further advantage of your touch. You stared at where his palm held your fingers against the expanse of his chest, his skin warm and dare you say inviting.
"(Y/N)," he whispered, your open gaze locking onto his sincere one, "just because my technique prevents others from touching me doesn't mean I don't like to be touched."
Your mouth slightly agape, you took in the planes of his handsome face illuminated by the rays of a streetlight coming in from the window, hitting the blinds and creating stripes against his face in the dark. One of those stripes hit his eyes, which you took in first, and made your way down, observing the clean slope of his nose, his shaped lips, down the curve of his neck, to your hand being pressed into his chest by his larger one, and back up.
The way Satoru looked at you then, he knew. He knew that you needed him, but not in some passionate or carnal way, but in a way that someone wants cream and sugar in their coffee, or a candle in their book nook on a rainy day. Something familiar, yet more. And even if he had just killed someone yesterday for you, to protect you, he was still the person that you found comfort in each day, that made you feel somewhat worth something more than a last name a potential asset.
"You look cold." The timbre of his voice could have probably warmed you from the inside out, but only for a moment.
"Yes, I think so."
"Then c'mere pretty girl."
Did Satoru expect last night to go the way it did? Definitely not. But when he felt you take the little extra initiative to barely touch his back, he knew he had to make it go that way.
He didn't anticipate or really want anything more than just the cuddling. It didn't take long for you to warm up and fall asleep, listening to the sound of his heart. He was surprised that you didn't ask why it was beating so fast, let alone fall asleep as swiftly as you did while having to hear it.
But he was right, your body did fit perfectly against his. Your head had rested against him sweetly, cushioned by that spot between his chest and shoulder. His arms had wrapped around you, his hands finding purchase on your back and waist. The position of his chin on your head gave him perfect access to kiss your forehead if he wanted to, but he didn't want to push the boundaries too far.
Okay, maybe he ended up giving you two anyway. He tried to hold out and lasted probably about 30 minutes. He just couldn't help it! Not to mention, you smelled so good-
He was half tempted to give you another one right now as you two lay here the next morning, with you still blissfully unconscious. On the nightstand behind you two, your phone began to buzz with a call. Whoever was trying to get you awake right now could go to hell. He didn't want this moment to end.
However, even after the person had called you another time, and then proceeded to leave four more texts, Satoru figured he would see what the fuss was about.
He strained to reach behind him, careful not to disturb your slumber, as he grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Turning it on, he smiled at the already established lock screen of Sugar before noticing the messages.
Keisuke Kamo
Hey, glad to hear you're alright. Just heard about the attack last night.
Keisuke Kamo
I know I had just visited recently, but we need to talk. In person, preferably.
Keisuke Kamo
Just call me back when you can so we can set something up. Please bring Gojo Satoru with you too.
Keisuke Kamo
Please (Y/N). This is serious...
Turns out Satoru wouldn't be able to enjoy your brief solace for much longer.
name:
meaning of name:
nicknames/titles:
age:
gender:
location:
birthday:
strengths + example where it's shown:
weaknesses + example where it's shown:
how it affects others:
emotional depth
attachment style + how it manifests in the story:
physical fear:
emotional/abstract fear:
happy memory:
sad memory:
object of significance:
philosophical outlook/belief:
what characters are ignorant about themselves:
how confident are they:
goal:
long-term dreams:
what they're embarrassed/ashamed to tell others about:
regrets:
source of pride:
source of misery:
what they admire above all else:
do they believe in fate:
personality
mbti:
enneagram:
big five:
character archetype:
star sign:
who they pretend to be on the outside:
who they actually are/how they feel towards the mask:
mental health conditions:
how it manifests for them:
iq:
eq:
humour:
reputation:
habits
bad habits:
mannerisms when stressed:
mannerisms when content:
mannerisms when scared:
mannerisms normally:
verbal mannerisms/distinctive speaking style:
how do they move across a room:
what do they say and what remains unsaid:
how they express love:
hobbies:
appearance
defining features:
eye shape + colour:
hair texture + colour:
skin texture + tone:
vibe:
height:
build:
clothing:
any bodily disfigurement (scars, etc.):
overall attractiveness:
their opinion on their appearance:
appeals to:
relationships
who they trust most:
what they wish they could do for them:
what's holding them back:
who they hate most:
what they wish they could do to them:
what's holding them back:
relationship with the protagonist:
relationship with the antagonist:
siblings:
relationship with them:
parents/step-parents:
relationship with them:
previous broken relationships:
why did it break:
what others expect of them:
who believes in them:
their mentor character/who they look up to:
political/religious/other affiliations:
what makes them different from every other character:
non-human relationships + why:
romantic "type" + why:
relationship dynamics:
backstory/background
primary emotion towards their past:
primary feelings while in their past:
where did they grow up:
defining incidents:
earliest childhood memory:
saddest memory:
happiest memory:
major accomplishments:
their opinion on it:
notable people in their backstory:
effect on them today:
trauma:
what have they already lost:
financial circumstance:
progression
why are they important (eg. why're they the only one able to do something?):
what do they learn about themselves throughout the story:
what do they learn about the world:
how do they feel towards their newfound knowledge:
character arc (positive, negative, neutral):
how relationships change because of their actions:
what mistakes do they make:
what scene is their character highlighted:
do they get what they want:
why or why not:
what happens to them after the story ends:
chapter summary: The onsen's heat melt away your coldness, while the festival's treats sweetened your heart. But it was Satoru, with his fiery passion and childlike joy, who truly made you feel alive again.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader
wc: 16,4k
warnings: MDNI, smut with plot, so much tension, establishing relationship (?) public intimacy (onsen), summer festival motives (traditional clothing, games and foood), lovemaking, dry humbing, p in v, oral/fingering (f reciving), unprotected sex, creampie, intense at the end, dirty talk, teasing, namecalling (sweetie, wifey etc.), dacryphilia, tooth rotting fluff, soft, spicy and touch starved Satoru.
author's note: oh dear, that loooong, but we are finally here. I couldn't finished this chapter in a month, it was eating me alive. I'm a virgin when it comes to writting smut scenes, so please be gentle. Hope you enjoy it in the end, your pulse will quicken and your heart will sugar coat ;3
s.masterlist
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑: '𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭'
"Mr and Mrs Gojo, we are pleased to welcome you to our establishment, we wish you a pleasant stay." the woman at the front desk beamed, her smile broad and a little too wide as she handed over your wristbands. Her eyes darted nervously to Satoru, who stood next to you, his presence undeniably commanding the room. Naturally, a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.
You felt a familiar weight as his hand settled on your waist, possessive yet gentle.
"Thank you." Satoru replied, his voice filled with that infectious enthusiasm "My wife and I are looking forward to a time full of relaxation!" his tone was warm, but it carried that undercurrent of determination, the kind that always made you wonder just how seriously he took even the most mundane things.
You couldn’t help but notice the effect he had on the staff around you. There was a collective intake of breath, and you watched as the women at the reception seemed to hold it, eyes wide and dreamy. It was, frankly, a bit embarrassing. You’d seen this reaction countless times, but it didn’t make it any less disconcerting when it happened right in front of you.
You couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like when he actually started using the spa. The baths, the onsen… you winced internally at the thought. You already regretted booking the full package. Satoru was a magnet for attention- talkative, charming, and with looks that could make anyone pause. What had seemed like an idyllic, relaxing retreat was starting to feel like an exercise in patience.
It had all sounded so good when you read about it: relaxing massages, body treatments, the tranquil atmosphere. And part of you was still excited; you'd been waiting for this for what felt like forever. But now, seeing the ladies at the front desk practically swooning at the sight of him was… well, let's just say it was a little annoying.
The location itself was well decorated. You walked away from the reception area for a moment, as Satoru started talking to another staff person. It was quite a distance away from the village where you had an accommodation, but it was close enough to the surprise you wanted to take him to in the evening. You could see that everything was well-maintained and quite fresh, as if a renovation had taken place here not long ago. Ceremonial ornaments adorned the walls, trimmed bonsai trees stood as miniature sentinels in each corner, and the view from the wide windows was breathtaking, the landscape rolling out in serene waves of green and stone. You could feel a sense of calm settling over you despite your earlier irritation.
There weren't many visitors at this time of day. You guessed that was partly because you'd arrived in the afternoon, and partly because most guests were likely preparing for the evening's festivities. Your gaze wandered to a lacquered painting on the wall, depicting a serene scene of a man and woman submerged in water, their backs turned to each other. The art was surprisingly well-preserved, capturing the beauty and tranquility of the surrounding area.
"Ready?" you felt a hand embrace you from behind. You nodded your head.
"Do you know where to go and what to do?" your gaze fell on his eyes, he threw a towel over his shoulder.
You'll probably never get used to the shifting shades of blue that swirl in his sparkling eyes.
"I asked the staff about a few things." he said in a melodic voice. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder.
"Good, I'll meet you after the treatments and when you've finished bathing, if you'd be early, then don't leave without me, I'll wait for you here." he gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up, his signature grin spreading across his face.
"Have fun." he added before leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the entrance to the men's changing room, a dark blue curtain swaying gently as he slipped behind it.
You watched him go, a mixture of exasperation and affection welling up inside you. With a small sigh, you turned on your heel and made your way to the women’s section, pushing aside a curtain as red as the blush still warming your cheeks.
----
Oh yes.
That's what you needed.
You don't remember when you felt so relaxed. You felt your whole body eased and your head pleasantly calmed. Your aching hip and shoulder blade, which had suffered an injury after your last mission, finally experienced proper treatment. A complex of massages prepared your body, while scrubs and regenerating masks gave your complexion a healthy glow. You liked to take care of yourself. As you rose from your seat, finishing your last massage with some special stones, you heard a quiet whisper from behind the curtain.
"Have you seen the white-haired guy?" this question set your ears ringing.
"Yes, handsome and charming." the giggle of the other voice was terribly loud.
"But apparently he's married."
Your feet found the ground, yet you remained still, your ears attuned to their every word, each syllable a slow drip of poison.
"Ah, what a shame, wasting on such an uncute woman." Pity, right? you furrowed your brow at this comment, sudden breath catching.
The words struck like a blade, your breath stuttering in your chest, a flare of heat rushing to your face.
"But are you sure? He didn't have a ring." Your fingers curled into fists, nails biting into your palms, the silk of the robe whispering against your skin as you fought the urge to rip through the curtain.
"Yes, at the desk, he said the woman next to him was his wife." the tone had shifted, dripping now with mockery, each word a taunt that twisted the knife deeper.
"But you know what they say, no ring no problem."
You opened the paper door to your cubicle, not wanting to wait for the next treatment or hear what these old maids had to say.
Out in the corridor, the air was cooler, less stifling, yet it did nothing to quell the fire simmering just beneath your skin. The air thick with the lingering scent of oils and herbs. Each word you had overheard replayed in your mind, an echo that rattled in the silence around you. The pity, the mockery, the casual cruelty of their voices scraped against your thoughts like nails on glass.
Uncute woman. The phrase curled around your mind like a serpent, squeezing until it left marks that stung with each breath.
You didn't want to spoil your mood, even though it had somehow gotten under your skin anyway. You just hope that the hot water will wash it out of you.
The wooden floor creaked under your step. The colours of the glass slowly changed, revealing the sunset outside. After pulling back the white curtain at the end of the corridor, you were shown one of the most stunning views.
The hot spring lay before you, a hidden oasis cradled by the forest. It was framed by rugged stones and ancient trees, their branches bowing gently as if in reverence to the sacred waters. A traditional torii gate loomed at the edge, draped with sacred Shinto ropes and tassels that whispered secrets to the evening breeze. In the background, rocks and trees wove into the scene, and just beyond, a small wooden temple stood, its silhouette blurred by the rising mist. Lanterns glowed in the encroaching twilight, casting a warm, flickering light upon the surface of the water, illuminating the steam that curled into the air like ghostly tendrils. It was a scene of tranquility, an invitation to forget, to cleanse.
The overall scene set you in relaxation and some sort of spiritual cleansing.
You let your towel slip from your grasp, draping it on the cabinet before stepping into the milky water. It lapped against your ankles first, sending tendrils of heat spiraling up your legs. Slowly, you eased further in, each step a deliberate act of immersion, the water climbing higher, coaxing the tension from your muscles with each passing second.
Finally, you lowered yourself until the water barely kissed the tops of your breasts. You spotted a small wooden bucket resting on one of the stones nearby and reached for it, the wood warm against your fingers. You poured the water over your hair, again and again, the heat cascading down your shoulders, soothing the raw edges of your thoughts. It was a ritual, a cleansing, and as the water soaked into your skin, you felt the weight of the day begin to dissolve, leaving behind a languid heaviness that settled deep into your bones. Now, you felt it, how heavy and warm were your muscles.
But then, you felt it—a presence. It pressed against the edges of your awareness, a shift in the air that made you alarmed. You turned, the water rippling around you, and your eyes met his.
"What are you doing here?" your voice was pretty quiet. It didn't need to be louder since you were surrounded by silence or a quiet hum.
Satoru stood there, half-shrouded in shadows at the entrance to the water, his form outlined by the soft glow of the lanterns. A towel hung low around his hips, and a flush painted his cheeks, stark against the usually pale skin. His gaze was fixed on you, wide and unblinking, as if he had stumbled upon something he wasn’t meant to see. He blinked once, then twice, before his eyes finally rose to meet yours.
You glanced down and covered yourself from him with your hands, doing this surprisingly slowly.
"It's konyoku." he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as his eyes flickered downward again, tracing the path of water droplets as they trailed down your skin.
"What?" now you were beginning to blush from the weight of his gaze on you. You felt warmth spread across your cheeks, an echo of the blush that colored his face.
His eyes moved with agonizing slowness, drinking in the sight of every glistening drop on your skin. A different kind of heat simmered in the water now, not from the spring, but from the way he looked at you. You were hot, but not just from the water - you could feel the fire in the way his eyes devoured you.
"Konyoku, a mixed bath." you were sure his voice cracked slightly.
Realisation has struck you, hard.
"Oh gosh, I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought that since the spa was divided into sections, it would be the same with the onsen." shame twisted in your chest, tightening around your ribs, and you averted your eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment mingle with the warmth of the spring. You felt that you were making everything awkward right now by missing such an important detail.
"Calm down, I don't mind." his voice was low, soothing, as if trying to ease the tension that thrummed in the air between you. A smile flickered across his lips, a familiar, comforting expression that quickly faded when he noticed how much you were trying to cover yourself.
He took a step forward, his hand reaching out toward the towel hanging loosely around his waist. You turned your back to him instantly, instinctively, giving him the privacy you assumed he wanted. The movement sent ripples across the water, the sound echoing softly in the silence.
You felt the water move more and more as he approached you step by step.
"Are you ashamed of your spouse?" his voice came from right behind you, dripping with that familiar arrogance that always seemed to unsettle you in ways you couldn't quite explain. You felt the heat of his breath against your ear, and a shiver raced down your spine despite the warmth enveloping you "I thought you didn't mind seeing me after so long." his tone was teasing, but it was the way he said it, the dark edge to his voice, that made your cheeks flush not in pink, but crimson.
"Your view doesn't bother me." you replied, although your voice was not laced with confidence.
"Then why are you looking away?" his voice dropped, a whisper that sent a jolt of electricity through you, your breath hitching involuntarily. You could feel the shivers dancing over your skin, and you clenched your hands tighter, trying not to let him see how much his proximity affected you.
"I'm not used to seeing you like this."
"Like what? After all, I sleep in just my underwear many times." his breath ghosted over your neck, the moisture on your skin amplifying every sensation. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on remaining calm.
"But you're naked now."
"And so are you." his hands found your hips, his touch gentle but firm, fingers pressing into your skin as if he wanted to feel every inch of you. He pulled you closer, and you felt it- him -pressing against your lower back. A gasp escaped your lips, your mind spinning.
What is he doing? He had never been this bold before.
You felt his lips graze the back of your neck, a featherlight touch that ignited sparks along every nerve. His mouth moved with an agonizing slowness, gliding over your most sensitive spots, while you struggled to keep your hands steady, to stop them from reaching out and pulling him even closer.
"I've changed you into your pyjamas many times.." he murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your ear "When you came back from missions, battered or when you fell asleep on the sofa." his hands parted in two different directions, easing you. One hand finding its place on your thigh, stroking around the inside of it, the other gently cupped your breast, gliding small circles with his thumb over the hardened nipple. Warm hands made you feel pliant under their touch "I know your body." his nose nuzzled against your neck, his breath warm and heavy, sending shivers cascading down your spine.
"Doesn't change the fact that it turns me the hell on." his words were a low growl in your ear, just before his teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shockwave through you. You couldn't hold back the moan that slipped from your lips, and you couldn't stop pressing your body back against his, feeling his hardness against you, eliciting a sharp hiss from him.
He tightened his grip around you, his hips pressing closer, moving in a rhythm that made your head spin. The friction between your legs pulsed with every subtle movement, and your skin felt like it was on fire, molten under his touch. His hand slid from your thigh to your chin, tilting your head back. When you looked up, his eyes were on you, half-lidded, burning with hunger. It was like staring into a blue inferno, his gaze devouring you whole. His hair was damp, sticking to his temples, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted as he breathed heavily. The sight of him, so undone, sent another wave of heat pooling low in your belly. You bit your lip glancing up at him.
The world around you faded, the fact that you were in a public space evaporating from your mind. There was only him, the way he looked at you, the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he leaned in. The pounding in your ears matched the rhythm of the pulse between your thighs, and you felt the last thread of restraint slipping away.
He leaned in, his lips hovering over yours, so close you could feel his breath mingling with yours, warm and sweet. You parted your lips, waiting, wanting -
A sudden, violent splash shattered the moment, the water surging against your bodies. You both turned your heads, alarm breaking through the fog of desire. The water was roiling with movement, a hand breaking the surface, followed by a head gasping for air. Instinct took over as you pulled away from Satoru, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now.
Without thinking, you rushed toward the figure struggling in the water, hands slicing through the hot spring as you fought your way through the resistance.
"I'm coming! Please hold!" you grabbed a hand sticking out of the water and pulled hard, fishing out a very old gentleman who was coughing and gasping for air.
"Are you alright, Sir?" you asked looking at his face seeking confirmation. "Please be more careful, there is no barrier here and it is easy to slip." your tone was gentle yet firm, a blend of concern and reprimand.
"I'm totally alright. I apologise for myself." he croaked out, his voice thin and rasping as he tried to catch his breath. He offered a weak smile, his eyes clouded with age yet warm "I came here because it's my late wife's birthday today." he murmured, a toothless grin spreading across his face "I wanted to remember…" he caught his breath unevenly "…to remember…. of her favourite place…" his voice wavered, breaking on the last word. You guided him to one of the stones by the shore, seating him carefully as you submerged yourself in the water again, trying to offer him and yourself some dignity.
"This place has always looked like this… and my dear Suki…. loved to sit here…" he continued, his voice now more of a murmur, eyes distant. He began to recount his memories, fragments of a life filled with love and loss, perhaps as a way of thanking you for saving his. You listened, your attempts to excuse yourself gently rebuffed or entirely ignored. Every time you tried to retreat back to Satoru, the old man would draw you back in, his stories weaving a net of nostalgia that held you in place.
You glanced over at Satoru, a silent plea in your eyes. He was sitting on a stone, arms crossed, a scowl etched into his face. His eyes were dark, drilling into the old man as if sheer willpower could make him disappear. He didn't even try to mask his annoyance. You gave him a helpless smile, one that said - 'please, do something.'
He didn’t move. You could see the irritation rolling off him in waves.
Gojo was not happy that he was getting the biggest cockblock, from a guy who can't even walk. On the other hand, he was full of admiration for your nature and how ingrained you are in helping others. That's one of the qualities he really admires about you. Even if it means running to help someone, naked.
Finally, after what felt like ages, you managed to extricate yourself from the old man's grasp. With a quick apology, you slipped away, ignoring his attempts to pull you back into conversation. You swam over to Satoru, who still hadn’t taken his eyes off the elderly man. His scowl deepened, his jaw clenched as you approached. He looked like an angry kitten.
"Did he at least thank you?" Satoru's voice was low, edged with irritation that he didn’t bother to hide.
You sighed "No, but he did apologise for himself." you sat down next to him, on the rock below, water now reaching your neck. You leaned back, resting your head against the rough surface of the rock. A wry smile tugged at your lips. "I guess that counts as a thank you."
Satoru glanced away, his eyes shifting to one of the lanterns flickering in the deepening dusk. He was avoiding your gaze, staring off into the distance with a tight expression. The silence between you was thick, the weight of unspoken words pressing down like a heavy fog. It got quite dark and the light from the lantern became more visible. You opened your mouth to say something.
"About earlier- " you began, but were interrupted by.
"Nah, it's nothing. I just got carried away…" tone casual, too casual. He turned his head even more you to not face you. "Don't think about it too much, okey?" his tone sounded normal, but he still didn't look at you.
You felt a sharp pang in your chest, an ache that spread like a crack through a fragile surface. You could literally hear it. Not enough to shatter, but enough to leave a clear mark.
He just got a little carried away, huh?
So much for that. Just a moment of oblivion. Nothing more.
"I just shouldn't have... sorry." he dropped his arms to his sides, his body language mirroring the sudden distance between you
"That's okay." you forced a smile, the kind that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Nothing happened, right?" the phrase stung on your tongue, echoing words from the past, reopening wounds that had never fully healed. Your 5th anniversary. You chuckled bitterly, the sound hollow in the dim light.
Long moment pases.
He shifted uncomfortably beside you, his eyes darting around for an escape from the unbearable tension.
"How did you like the spa?" oh, this conversation is going to be awkward. You can see that he wanted to change the subject quickly and drop something that you both could loosely chat about.
"Oh… em…" you gathered your scattered thoughts, grasping for something to say "The treatments were nice, especially the peelings. The massages also helped a lot on my muscles and bones. And this place…" Your eyes flicked to his jawline, the water droplets clinging to his skin. "It’s relaxing."
"How about you?" you smiled, trying to keep the conversation going to avoid the awkwardness and painful thoughts that were simmering in your head.
Bitter, sore are your thoughts.
He sighed, his gaze fixed on the rippling water before him.
just got carried away just got carried away just got carried away
The words looped in your mind, each repetition a fresh sting.
"I liked everything." he admitted quietly and smiled a little "Mushiburo was kinda cool. So were the facial treatments and that deep tissue massage." he rested his cheek against his palm and his hand against the stone beside "I'm surprised you got everything so right for my preferences." you raised an eyebrow, managing a small, humorless smile.
"What is so surprising about this? I've known you for years, besides, you often steal my sheet masks." you giggled akwardly. Sometimes you'd purposely buy ones with nice scents, or with cute patterns on the material.
He chuckled, a faint smile breaking through his sullen demeanor.
"It's not my fault that they produce such good cosmetics. And with you, my pores keep opening up." you nudged his side playfully, and for a moment, the mood lightened, his usual toothy grin returning. Conversation immediately became lighter.
"And I still have to use earplugs to sleep." you teased, the mock irritation in your voice genuine enough to draw a laugh from him.
"You said you got rid of them years ago! Did you lie to me?" he gasped in mock horror, dramaticly raised his voice a little.
You shrugged, a wry smile on your lips "No, you just stopped talking in your sleep."
For a moment, laughter filled the space where tension had been. Yet, even as you shared that fleeting levity, you couldn't shake the shadow lingering in the back of your mind, the weight of the moment that had almost been, and the hollow ache of what it had meant to you compared to what it seemed to mean to him.
----
The two of you walked side by side down the dimly lit corridor, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and cedar. Your fingers brushed against each other briefly before you pulled your hand away, shoving it awkwardly into the pocket of your robe. Satoru didn’t seem to notice - or maybe he did, but he made no move to close the space between you.
The reception area came into view, its soft glow inviting but distant. You could see the receptionist standing behind the counter, busying herself with some paperwork, her eyes flicking up occasionally to check the room. As you and Satoru approached, the sounds of hushed voices and the distant hum of soft music greeted you, a stark contrast to the stillness of the onsen.
"Thank you for your visit." the receptionist greeted with a warm smile as you reached the desk. Her eyes shifted between you and Satoru, lingering for a moment on the tension that seemed to hang between you like a veil "I hope we provided an execptional service, you enjoyed your time here."
Satoru nodded, his face a mask of politeness. "Yes, it was... relaxing." his tone was measured, the usual playful lilt absent. Her smile never faltering, as both od you were giving her towels and accesiories.
"I’m glad to hear that. Would you like to schedule another appointment in the future?" her gaze shifted to you, expectant.
You hesitated, glancing at Satoru out of the corner of your eye. He was staring straight ahead, his expression unreadable. "I think we'll have to see about that." you replied, offering a polite but noncommittal smile "It was a lovely experience, though."
Satoru cleared his throat "Yeah, we'll see. Thanks for everything." He gave the receptionist a curt nod, already turning toward the exit.
"You're very welcome." the receptionist said, her smile remaining as she escorted Satoru to the exit with her shining eyes. She glanced back down at her paperwork, as soon as he leaves.
You followed him toward the door, feeling the weight of everything that had happened - and everything that hadn’t - settle onto your shoulders. The cool air hit you as you stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the warm, cocooning atmosphere of the spa. A very late evening greeted you with its light. You wrapped your arms around yourself, hugging clothes, tighter as you walked silently toward the small, barly lighten path.
Satoru walked ahead, his hands shoved into the pockets. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw something there, a flicker of emotion, maybe regret or confusion. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by that casual mask he wore so well.
"So..." he started, his voice almost too casual "that was… an interesting expierience."
You let out a short laugh, the sound brittle and devoid of humor. "Interesting. Yeah, that’s one word for it."
You walked down a stone staircase down a small mountain, the forest that surrounded you seemed to grow brighter with every step you took.
He shifted his weight, looking down at the ground. "Look." he said after a pause "I don’t want things to be weird between us."
Your heart twisted.
Too late for that, you thought, but bit back the words.
Instead, you took a deep breath and forced a smile. "It doesn't have to be weird." you replied, though even you could hear the strain in your voice. "We’re adults. We can just... move on, right?"
You didn't want to spoil the mood for the rest of the trip.
You still had something grand in store for him, a surprise that should have been the highlight of his day. He deserved to enjoy it, to lose himself in the moment, and not be tethered by the cloud of your mood. You knew how to rein it in, knew your limits. This wasn’t the first time you'd found yourself in the midst of such a tangled situation, and you told yourself things would fall back into their familiar rhythm soon enough. They always did. Or at least, they were supposed to.
The real conversation, the one that weighed heavy on your mind, could wait. It had to wait. This was your one escape, your only holiday together, a time meant for joy and laughter, not for words that could splinter the fragile peace you'd managed to grasp. So you pushed it down, buried it deep, determined to leave it untouched until later. Not now. Not when you both should be basking in the moments that you had left.
He nodded, though his expression didn’t change "Right. Move on." he repeated the words, but they sounded hollow, like he was trying to convince himself as much as you.
A silence settled between you, awkward and heavy. You shifted on your feet, glancing around the stones, searching for anything to fill the void that had opened up.
"So, what now?" he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.
You glanced away "Well, we still have time." you admitted "Maybe we should just… go along the plan. We can already approach one place and get ready."
He ran a hand through his damp hair. "Yeah. Rest sounds good."
You were just a step away from the car when Satoru came to a halt. You paused beside him, the air thick with everything unsaid.
"You know." he began, his voice low, his gaze fixed somewhere in the darkness ahead "It’s okay to... talk about things, if you need to."
A tightness gripped your throat, choking off the words that clamored to escape. They lodged there, a heavy, unspoken weight. "I know." you whispered, barely managing the words. "But... maybe not now. Not tonight."
He inclined his head slightly, a small, almost imperceptible nod. "Not tonight." he echoed, the words hanging between you like a fragile thread.
He turned his eyes to you then, seeking, searching for something in your expression - some reassurance, some bridge across the chasm that had opened between you. But you didn’t have it to give. Not now.
So you forced a smile, a faint, fragile curve of your lips. It wasn’t much, a mere shadow of what you used to share, but it was all you could muster in that moment. And maybe, just maybe, it was enough for now.
----
Satoru stood in the dimly lit guest room, the scent of incense and freshly laundered fabric lingering in the air. The room was small but welcoming, its walls adorned with intricate patterns that spoke of the village's traditions. He glanced around, eyes catching on the various spools of thread and bolts of fabric neatly arranged in the corner - evidence of the woman’s craft. She was a tailor, and judging by the way the room seemed to hum with her skill, not just any tailor but one with years of experience and a touch for detail.
The elderly woman, now in her twilight years, had greeted him with a warm smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She had disappeared into another room and returned with the yukata draped over her arm, a beautiful navy blue garment adorned with delicate white clouds that cascaded into a soft gradient near the hem. The fabric shimmered faintly in the candlelight, each thread carefully woven to form an elegant, almost ethereal piece.
Satoru stared at it, his breath catching for a moment. There was something mesmerizing about the simplicity and grace of the design. The woman approached him, gesturing for him to take off his robe. He hesitated briefly, then complied, handing her his worn spa robe. She handed him the robes with a gentle nod.
As he held the garment, it felt impossibly light in his hands, the fabric soft and cool against his skin. He slipped his arms into the sleeves, feeling the smoothness glide over his skin. The elderly woman moved closer, her hands deftly adjusting the fabric over his shoulders. He let her work, dressing him layer by layer, standing still as she fastened the material around his waist, her movements practiced and precise.
Satoru glanced down at himself as she tied the obi, a dark navy sash that matched the garment perfectly. It cinched his waist securely, but not uncomfortably so, creating a sleek silhouette that felt almost regal. The yukata fell to his ankles, the hem brushing lightly against his skin with each breath. He turned slightly, catching his reflection in a small, polished bronze mirror hanging on the wall. The sight took him by surprise.
It fit perfectly. The yukata hugged his frame in all the right places, the sleeves hanging just so, the length tailored to his height with almost eerie precision. It was as if it had been made specifically for him, down to the smallest detail. He turned again, the fabric flowing with him like a second skin. It looked more beautiful than his clan robes.
He glanced at the woman, who watched him with a satisfied smile. "It suits you,." she said in a voice roughened by age but filled with pride. Her eyes gleamed with a knowledge that made him pause.
He wondered then, how much of this had been orchestrated by you. How quickly you must have moved to arrange this, to involve the village tailor, to ensure everything was perfect down to the last stitch. The realization sent a chill down his spine, not of fear, but of awe. How meticulous, how precise you were. It was both astounding and, in some quiet way, frightening.
But Satoru liked a scery women.
He chuckled to himself.
Gojo shifted his gaze back to the mirror, his lips curving into a faint smile. He could picture you now, working behind the scenes, your mind a whirl of details and plans. You had always been that way -considerate to the point of obsession, ensuring that everything was seamless, that every experience was as perfect as it could be. It was something he admired about you, even if it unsettled him at times.
He let out a soft breath, the tension in his shoulders easing as he took in the garment once more. This was so like you. To think of everything, even the smallest details, to make him feel… special. Seen.
The elderly woman stepped back, her work finished. She bowed her head slightly, a gesture of both respect and completion. "You wear it well, your wife sure has taste." she murmured, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment.
"Thank you." Satoru said, his voice softened, almost reverent. His fingers brushed over the fabric, feeling the texture under his fingertips. It was more than just a piece of clothing - it was a piece of you, a glimpse into the lengths you would go to for him.
He turned toward the door, ready to step out and show you. As he moved, the yukata flowed around him, its fit and design a testament to the care that had been put into it. And as he opened the door, a thought lingered in his mind, warm and unsettling: How well you knew him, how easily you could shape the world around him without him even realizing it until he was standing there, wrapped in it. He smiled again, this time a little wider, though the unease remained at the edges.
For now, though, he let it slip away. Tonight was meant for you and him, and the thought of seeing your face when you saw him like this… that was worth setting aside every other concern.
Satoru stood outside the small house, the evening air cool against his skin. He let out a slow breath, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the village lights began to flicker on, painting the landscape in hues of dark purple and pink. In the distance, the colored lanterns swayed gently, strung up between trees and around the central square, casting a soft, inviting glow. It was mesmerizing, the way they shimmered in the dusk, a quiet prelude to something that felt almost magical. He wondered if this was it, if this was the surprise you had meticulously crafted for him. The thought made his chest tighten with a mix of anticipation and something deeper, something he couldn’t quite name.
He glanced down at himself, smoothing his hand over the navy blue fabric of his yukata, tracing the gradient of clouds that faded into the darkness near his feet. It felt different on him, not just because of the craftsmanship, but because of what it represented- a piece of you, woven into every thread. He took another deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering in his stomach. How long had it been since he felt this way? Nervous, excited, all at once.
The door behind him creaked softly, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned, eyes widening as they fell on you. For a moment, the world seemed to still.
You stood framed in the doorway, a vision of grace and elegance. The yukata you wore was a delicate pink, adorned with painted mountains and flowers that spread across the fabric like a whispered dream. Higher up, sakura petals floated as if caught in an invisible breeze, dancing toward your shoulders, adding an air of ethereal beauty to your silhouette. In your hand, you clutched a small handbag, its design mirroring the motif of your attire. Your hair had been styled with care, adorned with floral decorations that sparkled faintly with small beads, catching the light with every movement.
Satoru felt his breath hitch. For a heartbeat, he forgot where he was, lost in the sight of you. It was as if the world had been painted around you, a living canvas that paled in comparison to the figure stepping toward him. The quiet confidence in your steps, the way the fabric of your yukata moved with you, it took everything in him not to reach out, to pull you close and keep you there, a part of this moment forever.
You approached him, the soft rustle of your garments the only sound in the stillness of the evening. As you drew nearer, he could see the faint smile on your lips, the way your eyes gleamed under the lanterns' glow. You stopped just in front of him, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to hum with unspoken words.
He swallowed, searching for something to say, anything that could capture what he felt.
"You look..." his voice trailed off, the words faltering on his tongue. Perfect. Stunning. Ethereal. None of it seemed adequate. He chuckled, a nervous sound that surprised even him "You look beautiful." he finally managed, the sincerity in his voice unmistakable.
Your smile widened, a soft blush coloring your cheeks, and for a moment, he could see it, everything you had put into this, the care, the thought, the effort to create something that would make him feel... special.
It made his chest ache.
"Thank you." you replied, your voice soft, almost shy, a contrast to the confidence in your appearance "I see they found something that fits you perfectly." your eyes roamed over his yukata, taking in the way it hugged his frame "I was a bit worried about the measurements."
He glanced down at himself, then back at you, a grin tugging at his lips.
"I have to admit, it feels like it was made just for me. You really went all out, didn’t you?" there was a teasing lilt to his voice, but behind it, there was something else, an awe, a gratitude that he wasn’t sure how to express.
"Maybe I did. You deserve it, sometimes." you shrugged lightly, a playful glimmer in your eyes.
You reached out then, your fingers brushing against his sleeve, adjusting a small crease in the fabric. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a warmth spreading through him, settling somewhere deep in his chest.
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the air between you charged with a quiet intensity. Satoru let his gaze drift back to the horizon, where the lights continued to dance in the distance.
"Is that where we’re headed?" he asked, nodding toward the colorful glow.
You followed his gaze, a secretive smile playing on your lips.
"Yes." you said, turning back to him. "But it's more than just the lights. It’s... everything. I wanted tonight to be special."
He felt his heart skip a beat at your words, the sincerity behind them. You had always had a way of turning the simplest moments into something extraordinary. It was one of the things that drew him to you, that kept him tethered to this feeling, even when everything else felt uncertain.
"Lead the way." he said, offering his arm to you. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, your hand slipping into the crook of his elbow. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it was enough to send a thrill through him, a silent promise of what the night held.
As you walked together toward the lights, the village around you seemed to come alive, lanterns flickering to life one by one, guiding your path. Satoru couldn’t help but glance at you from the corner of his eye, the soft smile that graced your lips as you looked ahead. He wondered how he had managed to deserve this, to deserve you. And as the cool evening breeze brushed against his skin, he found himself hoping, wishing, that this moment could stretch on just a little longer.
And it didn't even started.
In the back of his mind, that familiar unease stirred, a whisper of fear at how much you could move him, how deeply you had woven yourself into his world. But for now, he let it be.
Tonight was yours, a carefully crafted world of color and warmth, and he wanted to lose himself in it, if only for a while.
----
As you walked together down the lantern-lit path, the air grew sweeter, carrying with it hints of caramel, fruit, and sugar. The colors ahead became more vivid, the soft glow of lanterns giving way to brighter lights that adorned the festival grounds. When you reached the entrance, Satoru came to a sudden halt. His eyes went wide as he read the banner hanging above the gate, the words written in an elegant script illuminated by string lights.
Regional Candy Festival
Satoru blinked, processing what he was seeing. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in the scene before him, the entrance gate decorated with multicolored paper lanterns and ribbons that fluttered gently in the evening breeze. His eyes flicked to you, a mixture of surprise and wonder playing across his face.
"You... brought me to a sweets festival?" he asked, almost in disbelief. He had a soft spot for sweets, you knew it, you spoiled him with them.
You stepped in front of him, a grin tugging at your lips. "Yep. It happens once a year, and it's a big deal for the locals. They prepare for months, bringing together candy makers from all over the region. It's more than just sweets, it's a celebration of tradition and community."
He murmured something under his breath, his eyes flicking back to the festival grounds, where the lights twinkled invitingly. You watched as a faint blush crept up his cheeks. There was a boyish excitement in his eyes that he tried to suppress, but it was impossible to miss. His gaze darted back to you, still in a state of half-disbelief.
"Come on." you said, not giving him a chance to linger in his thoughts. You grabbed his hand, your fingers intertwining with his. He tensed for a fraction of a second before letting you pull him forward, his longer strides quickly matching your pace as you led him through the gate and into the heart of the festival.
The grounds opened up before you, a sprawling array of stalls lined up along winding paths, each one bursting with color and life. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and the occasional clink of glass jars being opened and closed. Rows of booths were adorned with streamers, paper flowers, and hanging lights that bathed everything in a warm, inviting glow.
The festival grounds were bustling with life, a vibrant tapestry of people woven together by the allure of sweets and the warmth of community. Everywhere you looked, there were clusters of families with children darting around, their laughter ringing out like music against the hum of the crowd. Parents called out to their little ones, balancing bags of candy and festival toys as they tried to keep up. Children with sticky hands clutched cotton candy or candied apples, their faces smeared with sugar and joy.
The stalls themselves were a feast for the eyes. Wooden tables were piled high with every kind of confection imaginable. Glass jars held rainbow-colored rock candy, shaped like precious gemstones that glittered under the lantern light. Trays were filled with handcrafted mochi, their surfaces dusted with delicate powders of matcha, strawberry, and kinako. You pointed to a booth displaying intricately molded sugar sculptures, delicate flowers and animals crafted with such precision they looked almost too beautiful to eat.
Couples strolled hand in hand, their expressions softened by the lantern light and the shared experience of this magical evening. They lingered at stalls, heads bent close together as they sampled sweets and whispered in each other’s ears. Some took turns trying their luck at the game booths, while others simply wandered, soaking in the sights and sounds. You watched as one couple fed each other small bites of mochi, laughing when powdered sugar dusted their noses. Another pair stood near the goldfish scooping game, the woman holding her breath as her partner carefully scooped up a tiny fish, cheering when he finally succeeded.
The festival was a haven for both locals and visitors alike. Groups of tourists mingled among the crowd, their eyes wide with delight as they explored the rich tapestry of traditions laid out before them. They snapped pictures of the stalls, the lanterns, and the intricately crafted confections. Some had even donned yukatas provided by the villagers, their vibrant fabrics blending seamlessly into the colorful scene. You could hear the mix of languages and accents, adding an extra layer to the festival’s melody. For many of them, this was a rare glimpse into the heart of the village, an invitation to share in something deeply cherished.
It was a beautiful chaos, a symphony of life and light, where every face held a story, every voice contributed to the joyous chorus. You and Satoru were just two among the many, woven into the fabric of this moment. But as he turned to you, his eyes reflecting the colorful lights around you, it felt as though the entire festival was just a backdrop to the world you two had created together tonight.
"Look!" you said, dragging him over to a stall where a candy maker was busy spinning fresh cotton candy into intricate shapes -dragons, flowers, butterflies -all infused with subtle flavors like lavender and yuzu. Satoru's eyes widened as he watched the man's hands move skillfully, weaving sugar into art. He bought it immidietly.
He was practically vibrating with excitement, his crystal blue eyes darting from stall to stall, each new sight triggering a fresh wave of childlike joy. It was like he had stepped into a wonderland of flavors and colors, and he was determined to try everything. His usual aloofness was nowhere to be found - instead, there was a wide smile on his face, pure and unfiltered, as he grabbed anything that caught his attention.
"Look at this!" he exclaimed.
The next stall you passed was filled with traditional Japanese sweets, wagashi in all shapes and sizes. Sweet bean paste and chestnut filling were encased in delicate, pastel-colored mochi. Some were shaped like tiny cherry blossoms, while others resembled seasonal fruits. Satoru couldn’t help himself - he reached out and picked up a small sakura-shaped wagashi, examining it with a kind of reverence before you nudged him to take a bite.
The moment he did, his eyes fluttered shut, a soft hum of pleasure escaping his lips as he melted into the taste. "It's so… delicate." he murmured, almost in awe, his usual animated demeanor replaced by a quiet appreciation.
You could hardly keep up with him as he moved through the festival, drawn to every colorful treat and sizzling skewer. He grabbed your hand again, and before you knew it, you were being pulled along, laughter bubbling up in your chest as you tried to keep up with his boundless enthusiasm.
Further down, you found a stall selling caramelized fruit, the skewers of glossy red apples and candied strawberries glistening under the lantern light. Without hesitation, you picked up a stick of candied strawberries and held it out to him, watching as he hesitated only for a split second before leaning forward to take a bite.
The moment the sweet and tart flavor hit his tongue, his eyes widened in surprise, and a delighted smile broke out on his face.
"Oh, this is amazing!" he said, his voice muffled slightly by the bite still in his mouth. He chewed quickly, the taste clearly captivating him. "It's like... sweet and sour magic on a stick!" he exclaimed, looking at you with eyes that sparkled with glee.
"You like it?" you teased, unable to stop smiling at his sheer enthusiasm.
He nodded vigorously, his gaze already drifting to the next stall lined with treats. His eyes were wide with wonder, darting between the rows of colorful mochi, the crackling sound of caramel being spun into cotton candy, and the steam rising from buns filled with savory or sweet fillings.
When he reached the booth with the caramelized fruit, he watched the vendor's hands intently as they dipped apples and strawberries into molten sugar, his eyes wide with fascination. "This… this is art." he murmured, almost reverently, before taking a bite of a candied apple, his expression turning blissful as he chewed.
You couldn't help but laugh softly as he moved through the festival, completely absorbed in every new experience. Satoru was such a foodie. He grabbed anything that caught his eye, his excitement so pure and infectious that it made the night even more magical.
You continued to wander, stopping at a stall where the vendor demonstrated how to make traditional hard candies, pulling sugar into thin, colorful ribbons before shaping them into delicate lollipops. You watched, captivated, as Satoru leaned in, utterly absorbed in the process. When the vendor handed him a lollipop shaped like a fox, his eyes lit up with the kind of joy you rarely saw, unguarded and genuine.
He moved through the festival grounds like a whirlwind, his eyes alight with curiosity and excitement as he surveyed the array of sweets laid out before him. It was as if every new sight, every fragrant scent, pulled him deeper into a wonderland of flavors. You could hardly keep up as he darted from stall to stall, his enthusiasm spilling over with every new discovery.
You laughed, charmed by his enthusiasm, as he moved on to a nearby stand selling mitarashi dango - skewered rice dumplings coated in a glossy, soy sauce glaze. Satoru took a skewer, eyeing the dumplings curiously before popping one into his mouth. His expression shifted through a series of reactions, starting with surprise, then contemplation, and finally pure satisfaction.
"It's sweet and savory at the same time." he marveled, licking the sauce from his lips. "The dango is chewy, but the sauce... it's got this depth to it. It's not just sugar -it's like... umami?" he looked at you as if seeking confirmation, his brows raised in excitement. "How do they make it so good?"
Before you could answer, he was already reaching for another treat - a yatsuhashi, a thin, cinnamon-flavored rice flour pastry wrapped around a dollop of sweet red bean paste. He bit into it, the cinnamon adding a warm spice to the sweetness of the bean paste. He let out a satisfied sigh, chewing slowly as if each bite needed to be fully appreciated.
"This one's so delicate." he said, holding it up to examine the thin layer of mochi encasing the filling. "The cinnamon just... wraps around the sweetness in this really comforting way."
You watched him with a fond smile, your heart swelling at the sight of him so genuinely happy. For all his power, all his strength, there was a part of him that remained untainted by the world - a part that found joy in the sweet and the simple.
And in that moment, you couldn't help, but fall a little bit more in love with him.
As you made your way through the festival, his hands never left yours. You sampled sweet potato candy, bean paste-filled pastries, and even shared a warm taiyaki filled with red bean paste, the crispy shell cracking open to reveal the sweet, steaming filling inside. Satoru's laughter mingled with yours as he stole bites from your hands, his eyes sparkling in the glow of the lanterns.
Hours seemed to pass in the blink of an eye, filled with laughter, sweets, and the simple joy of being together. At one point, you found yourselves standing in front of a booth that sold soft, fluffy daifuku. You insisted he try one filled with fresh strawberries and cream, and he obliged, taking a bite and closing his eyes to savor the taste.
Satoru looked like he was on the verge of a sugar-induced bliss, his hands full of various confections he had yet to finish. He turned to you, his cheeks flushed with excitement, his eyes shining. "I don’t think I can eat another bite." he admitted, laughing. "But... one more daifuku wouldn't hurt, right?"
You laughed.
"Right." you agreed, because watching him this happy was worth every indulgence in the world.
"I can't believe you found this place." he murmured, looking at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and gratitude. "You planned all this... for me?"
"I wanted to make you happy." your heart skipping a beat at the warmth in his voice.
He was silent for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at you, the noise and bustle of the festival fading into the background. "You did." he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.
You smiled, a quiet happiness settling over you. The festival continued to buzz around you, the air alive with the scents of sugar and joy.
----
The festival grounds were alive with a hum of activity, each game station vibrant with laughter and the bright clink of prizes being won. Paper lanterns hung above each booth, casting a warm, welcoming glow that made the whole scene feel like something out of a dream. Satoru's eyes scanned the array of stalls, and a mischievous grin spread across his face as he took in the possibilities.
"How about a little friendly competition?" he suggested, his tone teasing, as he nudged you toward the first game booth: the ring toss.
The ring toss booth was simple yet enticing, with rows of bottles lined up behind a wooden counter, their tops painted in different colors. The goal was to toss rings and land them around the necks of the bottles. Prizes hung above the stall - stuffed animals, wooden trinkets, and even small bags of candy, each prize depending on the difficulty of the toss.
Satoru paid for a handful of rings and handed half of them to you.
"Let's see who wins more." he said, his grin wide and confident. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips.
You went first, taking aim at the closest bottle. The ring left your hand in a neat arc, clattering around the neck of the bottle with a satisfying clink. Satoru raised an eyebrow, impressed but undeterred. His turn was next. He flicked his wrist, the ring soaring through the air before landing perfectly around a bottle in the back row, the more challenging target. He turned to you with a smug smile.
"Beginner's luck." you muttered playfully, determined not to be outdone. The competition escalated from there, with each of you aiming for the most difficult bottles, laughter spilling over each time a ring missed its mark or clattered to the ground. In the end, Satoru managed to land more rings than you, and he leaned against the counter, grinning.
The vendor handed him a choice of prizes, and instead of picking something for himself, he turned to you.
"Your prize, wifey." he said in an exaggerated formal tone, selecting a plush fox with bright eyes and a bushy tail. You accepted it with a grin, hugging the soft toy to your chest.
Next, you made your way to the shooting gallery, where small paper targets were lined up on moving tracks. The air rifles were simple, old-fashioned models, but the challenge was in the steady hand and precise aim required to knock down the targets. Satoru stepped up confidently, glancing at you with a raised brow.
"Care to join me, or do you want to watch a master at work?" he teased.
"Master, huh?" You shot back with a smirk. "We'll see about that."
The booth attendant handed you each a rifle, and the game began. You both took turns aiming and firing, the sound of popping balloons and the clang of knocked-over targets filling the air. Satoru was annoyingly good at it, hitting the bullseye almost every time, his focus and sharp reflexes evident. But you weren’t far behind, managing to knock down several moving targets yourself.
In the end, Satoru won by a narrow margin. He turned to the vendor, pointing at a small, intricately painted porcelain fox figurine. He picked it up and turned to you, holding it out with a gentle smile.
"You spoil me." you replied, taking the figurine carefully. His only response was a casual shrug, but the way he looked at you, eyes softening in the warm light, said more than words could.
Moving on, you came to the goldfish scooping game, a traditional stall where delicate paper scoops were used to catch darting goldfish in a shallow pool of water. The challenge lay in the fact that the paper would tear easily, making it a game of patience and skill.
"Watch and learn." Satoru announced confidently, kneeling down by the pool. He dipped his paper scoop into the water, eyes tracking the fish. For a moment, it looked like he would succeed, but just as he went to lift a fish out of the water, the paper tore, and the fish slipped away. You burst into laughter, watching his confident expression crumble into one of playful annoyance.
"Not as easy as it looks, huh?" you teased, taking a scoop for yourself.
You bent over the pool, moving the scoop slowly through the water. You felt Satoru’s eyes on you, watching intently as you coaxed a small, golden fish into the scoop. With a delicate lift, you managed to catch the fish and place it into the bowl beside the pool. Triumph surged through you as you glanced up at him, a victorious smile on your face.
He shook his head, grinning. "Beginner's luck." he echoed your earlier words, making you both laugh.
The night continued with more games. At the dart-throwing booth, you took turns popping balloons pinned to a wooden board, Satoru effortlessly hitting the hardest targets.
That dammed Six Eyes.
When you missed a shot, he playfully nudged you aside, throwing his dart with dramatic flair and popping a balloon right next to yours. The booth attendant offered a variety of prizes, and once again, Satoru chose something for you - a delicate glass jar filled with colorful, star-shaped sugar candies.
Then there was the strength tester, a tall tower with a mallet that needed to be struck to send a metal weight up to ring a bell.
"Should I use my cursed energy?" he asked, feigning seriousness. "Or should I give everyone a fair shot at winning?"
"You mean to tell me you're so weak that you need to use your powers to win a festival game?" you shot back with a playful smirk, raising one brow in challenge
He feigned an offended look, but couldn’t hide the amusement twinkling in his eyes. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. Without a word, Satoru hefted the mallet, swinging it with ridiculous ease. The weight rocketed to the top, hitting the bell with a resounding clang that echoed across the festival. The crowd cheered as he turned back to you, flexing his arm in mock arrogance.
"Show-off." you muttered, though your smile betrayed your amusement. Crossing your arms, you shook your head, trying to play unimpressed, but he was just too... him.
"Your turn." he said, holding the mallet out to you.
You took it, feeling a little weight of it in your hands. The crowd murmured, clearly intrigued to see if you could match the previous performance. You swung the mallet with a little efford. The metal weight shot up, reaching the top, drawing a round of applause. Satoru clapped the loudest, his eyes shining with pride as he pulled you into a quick, impulsive hug.
"That's my wife!" he proclaimed proudly, his voice carrying over the crowd. He was practically bubbling over with pride, and you couldn't help but smile at his excitement.
A few men in the back exchanged wide-eyed, almost intimidated glances, clearly taken aback by the display of strength.
You shrugged it off casually, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. "It was nothing special." you said, trying to play it cool.
"Who's the show-off now?" Satoru teased, his eyes glinting mischievously. He knew your strength well, of course - you were a sorcerer, just like him. But the opportunity to see you take center stage, to let the world witness a glimpse of the power he admired so much in you, made his chest swell with a little pride.
You shot him a playful glare, but your lips betrayed you with a smile. "Still you." you replied lightly, bumping your shoulder against his. "I just don't have to show off as often."
He chuckled, throwing an arm around your shoulders as you both turned to leave the booth.
The two of you moved from game to game, your laughter mingling with the sounds of the festival. The evening was filled with moments of light-hearted competition, Satoru trying to outdo you at every game, and you refusing to back down. He won more often than not, but each time he did, he chose a prize that he thought you would like - a stuffed animal, a small wooden charm, a delicate bracelet with tiny bells that jingled softly whenever you moved.
He wasn't just winning; he was showing you, in his own way, how much he cared. With each prize he handed you, his eyes held a tenderness that made your heart flutter. By the time you finished with the game stalls, your arms were filled with tokens of the night- small treasures that would remind you of this moment for a long time.
----
The crowd had thickened as the night wore on, and at some point, you and Satoru had gotten separated in the bustling festival grounds. He had turned around to say something to you, only to find an empty space where you had just been standing. His heart skipped a beat, a sliver of panic settling in his chest. He scanned the throngs of people, his height giving him a slight advantage, but he couldn’t catch a glimpse of your pink yukata amidst the sea of colors.
And he has a really good eyes.
Satoru moved through the crowd, his eyes darting from face to face. The festival was loud and bright, filled with laughter and chatter, but it felt strangely hollow without you beside him. A frown creased his brow as he began to retrace his steps, weaving through the clusters of families, couples, and friends. Where could you have gone? He wondered if you’d wandered off to one of the game stalls or perhaps been drawn to something that caught your eye.
Minutes felt like hours as he searched, his mind racing with a dozen possibilities. A part of him knew you were capable and safe, but the thought of you being out of reach, even for a little while, unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He turned a corner near a booth selling candied fruits and finally, he saw you.
You were walking toward him, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Relief washed over him, mingling with the faint annoyance he felt for letting you out of his sight. As you drew closer, he noticed that you were holding something behind your back, hiding it coyly.
"Where did you run off to?" he asked, trying to keep his tone light, but unable to mask the concern in his eyes.
"I didn’t run off." you replied teasingly, "I just got a little... sidetracked." you stepped closer, finally revealing what you had been hiding. In your hands were two matching bracelets, each coiled neatly with a small collar and string.
Satoru blinked, momentarily caught off guard. The bracelets were simple yet elegant. The one in your right hand was a deep blue, the color of the evening sky just before nightfall. It had a smooth, round collar of polished metal that shone subtly under the lantern light. Attached to it was a braided string, also blue, interwoven with fine silver threads that glimmered softly. The bracelet in your left hand was pink, a soft blush hue that mirrored the shade of your yukata. It too had a small collar, this one in a warm rose gold, with a braided string of pink and gold threads.
"I won these at one of the game stalls." you explained, your voice laced with pride. "Thought they’d be a nice little keepsake." you held them out to him, your eyes searching his for a reaction.
Matching.
They were matching, and it hit him with a warmth that spread through his chest. He reached out and took the blue bracelet from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours as he did. It was lightweight but sturdy, the kind of thing that wouldn’t break easily even if worn often.
"You got these for us?" he asked, his voice softer now, the earlier worry dissolving into something more tender.
"Yes." you replied simply. "I thought... it would be nice to have something to remember tonight by." You held up the pink one, showing it off with a small flourish. "This one's mine." you added with a smile.
He couldn’t help but smile back, the knot of tension in his chest loosening. He slipped the blue bracelet over his wrist, the string settling comfortably against his skin. The metal collar gleamed faintly, catching the light. It felt right, somehow, to have this - something small yet meaningful, a token of the time you had spent together.
You fastened the pink bracelet around your wrist, the rose gold collar glinting as it caught the reflection of the lanterns. For a moment, the two of you stood there, the noise of the festival swirling around you, yet feeling like it was just the two of you in that instant. He glanced down at your wrist, then at his, a small chuckle escaping him.
"Matching bracelets, huh?" he said, his voice teasing but his eyes warm.
You nodded, meeting his gaze. "Well, I thought there were cute." you said lightly, though your eyes held a depth that made his chest tighten.
He took a step closer, lifting his wrist to brush against yours, the two bracelets touching, their colors a striking contrast. "Thank you." he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "For this... and for everything tonight."
You smiled up at him, your eyes reflecting the colorful lights around. "You're welcome," you whispered, the simple words carrying the weight of all you felt.
----
As midnight approached, the festival grounds began to shift in mood. The stalls were still alive with chatter, but a palpable sense of anticipation hung in the air. People moved in the same direction, gathering toward the open space near the edge of the festival grounds where the fireworks would soon light up the sky. Families found their spots, children clambering onto their parents' shoulders for a better view, while couples huddled closer, whispering excitedly.
Satoru nudged your arm gently, drawing your attention away from the crowd.
"How about we get a better view?" he suggested, tilting his head toward a small hill that overlooked the festival. The slope was gentle and dusted with wild grass, illuminated softly by the glow of the lanterns scattered across the grounds below.
You nodded, letting him take your hand as he led you away from the crowd. The climb was short, the grass crunching softly beneath your sandals. You reached the top just as the first firework burst into the sky - a single golden streak that shot upward, hanging for a heartbeat before exploding in a shower of shimmering light.
From the hill, the view was breathtaking. The night sky stretched out above you, a canvas of deep indigo speckled with stars. It was vast and open, the kind of sky that seemed to pull at your very soul. The moon hung low, a silver crescent cradled against the horizon, its pale light mingling with the colors that now blossomed in the air.
Another firework followed, this time a bouquet of red and gold that spread wide before cascading down like a waterfall of sparks. You stood side by side with Satoru, your fingers still entwined, he didn't let your hand go feeling the soft evening breeze play with the edges of your yukata.
He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how you gazed up at the display, your eyes wide with wonder. The colors danced across your face, painting your skin in hues of emerald, sapphire, and ruby with each explosion. Your lips parted slightly, a soft smile forming as the sky above you came alive in bursts of color and light.
Satoru’s gaze softened as he watched you. He had seen fireworks countless times before, in different places and under different circumstances, but tonight felt different. It wasn’t just the beauty of the fireworks that captivated him - it was the way you seemed to lose yourself in the spectacle, the way your eyes sparkled with each new burst, reflecting the colors that lit up the sky. He found himself more drawn to you than to the display, your presence grounding him in a way that made the world seem a little less chaotic.
The fireworks continued, each one more magnificent than the last. Spirals of green and blue shot up, followed by crackling gold that spread across the sky like a phoenix spreading its wings. Some fireworks were loud and thunderous, their echoes rolling across the valley, while others were silent, fizzling into tiny stars that lingered for a moment before fading into the night.
You sighed softly, tilting your head to rest against his shoulder. He stiffened for a brief second before relaxing, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable for you. He glanced down at you again, subtly, as if trying not to disturb the moment. The way you leaned into him, trusting, at ease, sent a warmth flooding through his chest.
More exploded, this time in a sequence of vivid purples and pinks, creating shapes that wove and twisted through the sky. The crowd below gasped and cheered, but up on the hill, it felt like the show was just you two, a private spectacle shared in the quiet space you'd carved out together.
Satoru's eyes flickered back to the sky for a moment, then back to you. The reflection of the fireworks in your eyes made them appear like two bright, endless galaxies, full of depth and life. He couldn’t look away. He wondered if you realized how radiant you looked in this moment, how the joy and serenity on your face seemed to eclipse even the brightest fireworks above.
The finale began, a rapid succession of bursts that filled the sky with color and light. Golds, blues, reds, and greens overlapped in a cacophony of brilliance, trailing sparks that lit up the entire valley. It was as if the heavens had opened, showering the earth with a celebration of light.
You inhaled sharply, your hand tightening slightly around his as the sky was filled with an intricate dance of sparks. In that instant, you turned your head to look at him, your eyes meeting his. For a heartbeat, the fireworks ceased to matter. It was just you and him, standing there, the world around you a mere backdrop to this fleeting, perfect moment.
He offered you a small, genuine smile, one that reached his eyes and softened his features. Without a word, he lifted his free hand to brush a stray lock of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering near your cheek. The final burst of fireworks illuminated the sky in a blinding flash of gold, and in its light, you saw the sincerity in his gaze, the quiet depth of what he felt but left unspoken.
As the fireworks faded and the sky darkened once more, the echoes of the display drifting away into the night, Satoru leaned closer, his breath warm against your temple.
"Beautiful." he murmured, his voice low, though you weren’t sure if he was talking about the fireworks or something else entirely.
----
As the final crescendos of the fireworks show began to die down, the sky settling back into its inky darkness speckled with the faint glow of stars, you felt a familiar energy stir within you. It bubbled up, almost unbidden, a restless desire to add your own touch to the night’s spectacle. You glanced at Satoru, his gaze still turned skyward, his expression a blend of awe and contentment. For a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to disturb this serene moment. But then, a small smile tugged at your lips, and you decided you couldn’t help yourself.
You raised your hand slowly, focusing your energy into your palm. A soft light began to gather there, a warm, luminous glow that pulsed gently, growing brighter with each heartbeat. The positive energy bent and twisted under your will, taking form as it pooled into a delicate, shimmering shape. Satoru sensed the shift in the air and turned to look at you, his eyes widening slightly as he watched the light in your hand begin to transform.
Before him, the light morphed into the shape of a bird, its wings outstretched, its body composed of gold radiant. It was intricate and beautiful, each feather outlined in a soft, golden hue that seemed to pulse with life. For a heartbeat, it stayed there, perched in your palm, glowing brightly against the darkened sky.
Satoru stared, his eyes wide, breath held as he watched the luminous creature you had crafted. He didn't know you manage to lern how to create posivitve energy. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen, a pure manifestation of enegry, delicate and awe-inspiring.
With a gentle exhale, you lifted your hand and let the bird go. It took flight, rising gracefully into the air, its wings moving fluidly as if it were a living creature. It soared upward, leaving a faint golden trail behind it, weaving through the night sky with an elegance that took the breath away. The crowd below gasped as they noticed this new light, their eyes following the bird as it glided over the festival, casting a warm glow upon the faces of the people gathered.
Satoru couldn’t tear his eyes away from it. His usual composure cracked, revealing a look of raw wonder that you rarely saw on his face. His lips parted slightly, his eyes reflecting the hue of the bird as it climbed higher into the sky, the positive energy within it growing more intense. It was as if you had captured a piece of the stars and given it wings, a living embodiment of the night’s magic.
The bird flew above the festival, a graceful arc that seemed to bless the gathering below. It soared higher and higher, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Then, with a final, powerful beat of its wings, the bird exploded in a brilliant burst of sparkles.
The sky lit up with the most stunning shade of gold the world had ever seen, a color so vivid and warm it felt like sunlight breaking through the dark. It spread across the horizon, an eruption of light that outshone the final fireworks, cascading down in a rain of shimmering sparks that slowly faded into the night.
The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, their voices echoing across the festival grounds. They didn’t know where this last miracle had come from, but it didn’t matter. To them, it was simply the perfect ending to a perfect night.
Satoru stood frozen beside you, his eyes fixed on the fading light in the sky. Slowly, he turned to you, his expression one of utter astonishment. "You…." he began, his voice low and almost breathless. He struggled for words, his usual confidence slipping away as he tried to grasp what he'd just witnessed.
He didn't know you can bend energy like this. This was hard, for an average sorcerer this would took forverer to uderstand, or to even create it, but you just created a bird from it. Something so hopeful, full of light, to contrast the curses and darkness that you normally conquer or exorcise.
"You did that." he finished, his voice carrying a mix of awe and disbelief.
You looked at him, a playful glint in your eyes "I couldn't help myself, sometimes I want to show off too." you admitted, a small, sheepish smile on your lips. You glanced back up at the sky where the golden sparks had lingered, now just a faint memory in the dark.
He continued to stare at you, his gaze intense, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory. Then, to your surprise, his expression softened, and a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. It wasn’t his usual teasing smirk or the sly grin he often wore - it was a smile of pure, unguarded admiration.
"That was amazing." he said quietly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart flutter. There was no pretense, no hint of the usual banter. Just those simple words, spoken with a sincerity that made your breath hitch.
He reached out, hesitating for a fraction of a second before his hand found yours. His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and firm, grounding you in the reality of this moment. His eyes holding yours.
You felt a warmth spread through you, different from the power you had just wielded. It was softer, deeper, something that came not from within you, but from this quiet connection between you and him. You squeezed his hand, your smile widening as you gazed up at him.
"Thank you." you murmured, the words barely audible over the cheers still ringing from below. But you knew he heard you, saw it in the way his eyes softened further, his thumb brushing gently against the back of your hand.
"Not a show off, yeah?" he teased. You just smirked at that comment.
The night sky was dark again, the fireworks over, the golden light faded. But for the two of you, standing there on the hill, the brilliance of that moment lingered, glowing quietly in the space between you.
----
Your friend’s car hummed softly as it navigated the quiet, winding roads back to the rental house. The festival was now a distant glow behind you, the sounds and lights fading into the night as the car drove through the peaceful countryside. Satoru sat beside you in the back seat, his gaze fixed out the window, lost in his thoughts. The soft glow of the dashboard lights cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the mix of emotions that swirled within him - contentment, tenderness, something deeper that twisted his heart with an almost painful ache.
You sat quietly next to him, the bag of prizes resting on your lap. The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather a quiet after the storm of the evening, a shared stillness that spoke of the connection forged throughout the night. Occasionally, you glanced at him, catching the reflection of the moonlight in his eyes. Each time, he seemed to be miles away, caught in the lingering magic of the night’s events.
When your friend pulled up to the rental house, you turned to him with a grateful smile.
"Thank you so much for the ride." you said, your voice soft. He gave you a warm smile in return, waving off your thanks with an easygoing shrug.
"No problem." he replied, glancing at Satoru with a nod. "You two have a good night. Get some rest."
Satoru mumbled his thanks, distractedly opening the car door and stepping out. You followed, carefully gathering all the prizes he had won into your arms - the plush fox, the porcelain figurine, the small glass jar filled with sugar candies, and all the little trinkets that had come to symbolize the memories of the night. Satoru reached over to help, his hand brushing against yours as he steadied the tower of items. For a brief moment, your eyes met, and you both smiled, a quiet understanding passing between you.
"See you around." your friend called out before driving off, leaving you and Satoru standing in the driveway, surrounded by the stillness of the night. The rental house loomed ahead, dark and quiet, a stark contrast to the vibrant energy of the festival. You both moved towards it, carrying the night’s treasures with you.
Inside, the house was cool and dimly lit by the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. You walked into the living room, carefully placing all the prizes on the small wooden table. Satoru watched you from the doorway, his hands hanging loosely at his sides, his heart feeling strangely heavy. You moved with a quiet grace, arranging each item on the table with care. The sight of it - the plush toys, the small trinkets, the delicate bracelet still on your wrist made something in him twist painfully.
He felt raw, like every barrier he had carefully constructed around his heart had been stripped away by the night. Watching you smile softly at the collection of prizes, your eyes glowing with the warmth of the evening, he felt a surge of emotions that left him feeling fragile.
Vulnerable. Eager.
A deep yearning for tenderness, for some word or touch that would ground him in the storm of feelings swirling inside.
You glanced up at him, catching the look in his eyes, so open, so full of unspoken things and you felt your own chest tighten. You gave him a gentle smile, one that didn’t need words, before turning toward the bedroom, carrying a small bag with you.
"I arranged with the seamstress to pick up the yukata tomorrow." you said over your shoulder as you entered the room. "We can leave them here tonight." your voice was light, matter-of-fact, but the simplicity of the statement seemed to pierce through him, highlighting the fleeting nature of it all. The night, the festival, the moments of connection, it would all end with the dawn, leaving behind only memories and the ache of what once was.
He stood there, rooted in place, feeling like he could shatter with the slightest touch. The need for some form of closeness, some affirmation that this wasn’t just a dream, burned within him so fiercely it was almost painful. He watched as you placed the bag down on the small table in the bedroom and you began to take off your hair decorations, the fabric of your yukata rustling softly in the quiet.
Satoru swallowed hard, his throat tightening around the words he couldn't bring himself to say. The house around him felt both too large and too small, the space between you a chasm he desperately wanted to cross. Every step you took, every soft movement, felt like it was tearing him apart with a longing he could barely comprehend.
You turned back to face him, sensing the shift in the air.
He was standing in the doorway, his eyes locked onto you with an intensity that made your breath catch. There was something in his eyes, that dream like blue gazing, something raw and unguarded that you had never seen so openly in him before. It was as if all the walls he had built up over time had crumbled, leaving him exposed and yearning for something he couldn’t quite name.
"Satoru, is eveything okey?" you whispered, taking a step towards him. You were so caring, so devouted, so... His name on your lips was a lifeline, a tether to reality in the midst of his tumultuous emotions. He watched you close the distance between you, feeling the vulnerability within him flare up, a stark contrast to his usual self-assured demeanor.
He didn’t know how to ask for what he needed, didn’t even know if he could.
But as you stood before him, your eyes soft and searching, he felt a glimmer of hope, that maybe, just maybe, this tenderness he craved wasn’t out of reach.
Satoru stood there, every emotion crashing against him like relentless waves. The gentleness in your eyes, the way you looked at him with such unguarded warmth, made his heart twist painfully in his chest. He wanted to reach out, to close the distance between you. The need to touch you, to feel the solidity of you against him, was so strong it hurt.
He had spent so long keeping parts of himself hidden, maintaining that cool facade, but this night had unraveled everything deep within him, leaving him raw and aching for more.
You stepped closer, sensing the turmoil within him, the battle waging behind those intense crystal eyes. Your hand moved almost instinctively, reaching up to brush a strand of his hair from his forehead. The touch was feather-light, but it was enough to break something inside him. He inhaled sharply, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, as if savoring the feel of your fingers against his skin.
When he opened his eyes again, the vulnerability there was unmistakable. He didn’t try to hide it. Instead, he let you see everything, the longing, the fear, the desire for something more than words could express. You felt the weight of his gaze, the way it bore into you, pleading without a single sound.
"Satoru?" you asked, whispered his name again, your voice a soft anchor in the storm of his emotions. It was a question and an answer all at once, an invitation for him to close the distance if he wanted to.
And he did. God, he did.
He reached out slowly, his hand trembling slightly as it cupped your cheek. The warmth of your skin beneath his palm sent a jolt through him, a reassurance that this was real, that you were here with him. You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing briefly as if savoring the moment. It was so simple, yet it held the weight of everything he had been yearning for all night.
His other hand found your waist, hesitantly at first, then with more certainty, pulling you closer. He needed to feel you against him, needed to know that this connection wasn't something that would fade with the night. Your bodies came together with a quiet sigh, fitting perfectly in a way that felt like the culmination of every unspoken word and stolen glance.
Satoru pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes falling shut as he breathed you in, the scent of your hair, the warmth of your breath against his lips. It was overwhelming and grounding all at once. He didn’t move for a moment, just held you there, his heart pounding so loudly he was sure you could hear it.
"I..." he began, his voice hoarse, choked with the rawness of everything he felt. He swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words.
How could he tell you that you made him feel like he was standing on the edge of something vast and terrifying, yet so breathtakingly beautiful?
How could he explain that you made him feel more alive than he had could ever imagine?
But you didn’t need him to say it.
You looked up at him, your eyes shining with understanding, with the same mix of emotions that were tearing him apart. You brought your hands up to his face, cradling it gently, your thumbs brushing softly over his cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut once more, a quiet sigh escaping his lips.
" 'toru.." you whispered, the sound of his nickname a soothing balm against the rawness of his heart. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."
He opened his eyes then, staring down at you, searching your face for something - permission, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t a dream. And what he found in your eyes was everything he needed. Acceptance, tenderness, a silent promise that you were here, truly here, with him, in this moment.
Unable to hold back any longer, he closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both desperate and tender. It wasn’t hurried or rough - it was a quiet plea, a soft surrender to the feelings he had kept locked away for so long, that sometimes slipped from him in his weakest moment. His lips moved against yours with an urgency born from the fear, that this might slip away if he didn't hold onto it tightly enough.
You melted into him, your hands sliding up into his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands. You kissed him back with the same intensity, meeting his vulnerability with your own. It was as if every touch, every breath you shared was weaving you both closer, binding you in a way that felt unbreakable.
He pulled you tighter against him, his hands moving from your waist to wrap around your back, holding you as if he was afraid you might disappear if he let go. The kiss deepened, slow and aching, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that neither of you could fully express. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist. There was no rental house, no onsen, no festival, no past or future - only this shared space between you, warm and safe.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged, his eyes still closed as if savoring the lingering taste of your lips on his. He felt fragile, like he might shatter at any moment, but in the most beautiful way possible. You had cracked him open, and for the first time, he didn’t want to close himself off again.
"I just..." he started, his voice breaking slightly. "I just needed this." his words were almost a confession, a quiet acknowledgment of the vulnerability that had overwhelmed him.
You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Me too." you whispered back, your voice steady and full of a certainty that eased the tightness in his chest. You were here with him, present and real, and that was enough.
He let out a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening for a moment before he relaxed into the embrace.
"Stay." he murmured a plea. He didn’t mean just tonight. He meant here, in this space you had created together, in this fragile yet undeniable connection.
And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that was exactly what you intended to do.
Satoru's breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to keep control. Every nerve in his body was on fire, every inch of his skin tingling with the need to be closer to you. The kiss, the way you held him, had set something loose inside him.
"I... I can't hold it anymore." he confessed, his voice low and raw, edged with an emotion that made your heart skip a beat. He swallowed hard, his breath hot. His eyes were intense, a storm of desire, fear, and longing swirling within them. "I just... can't."
He stopped suddenly, his eyes widening as if realizing how close he was, how tightly he was holding you. He stepped back an inch, his hands dropping from your waist, as if he had been burned. His gaze flickered with uncertainty and something close to panic.
"I'm sorry." he blurted out, his voice cracking. "I didn’t even ask... if I could... if you wanted this... if I could ever touch you like that."
Well, he didn't asked it at onsen. Not that it mattered, when you craved it so much.
It was so unlike him - the confident, arrogant Satoru you knew - standing there with his shoulders tense, his eyes searching yours desperately for reassurance. He looked fragile, his usual facade stripped away to reveal a man who was vulnerable and uncertain, terrified of crossing a line that would push you away.
You felt your heart squeeze painfully at the sight of him like this. Without hesitation, you closed the distance between you, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a firm, reassuring embrace. His body went rigid for a heartbeat before he melted into your hold, his hands coming up to clutch at your back as if you were his lifeline.
"It’s okay." you murmured into his ear, your voice steady and soothing. "I want you to touch me. I want this." you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, your gaze soft but filled with certainty. "I want you, Satoru."
Something shifted in his eyes at your words, the fear giving way to a rush of relief and desire that made him shudder in your arms. He let out a shaky breath, his hands moving up to cup your face gently, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks as if he was still trying to believe that this was real. His eyes searched yours for a moment longer before he leaned in again, capturing your lips with a hunger that left you breathless.
This kiss was different from the first, a torrent of passion and longing that had been held back for too long. His hands moved with more confidence now, sliding down to your waist before finding the belt of your yukata. He paused, his lips hovering over yours, his breath warm and ragged.
"Tell me if you want me to stop." he whispered, his voice a mix of command and plea, his eyes locked onto yours.
You shook your head, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer.
"Don’t stop." you replied, the words barely a breath "I don’t want you to stop."
He needed no further encouragement. His fingers deftly untied the belt of your yukata, the fabric loosening around you. He kissed you again, harder, faster, as his hands slipped beneath the material, pushing it off your shoulders in a slow, deliberate motion. The fabric slid down your arms, pooling around your feet in a soft whisper. You felt the cool air against your skin, but it was quickly replaced by the heat radiating from him as he pressed his body against yours.
You gasped into his mouth, the sensation of his hands on your bare skin sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. He pulled back slightly, his eyes tracing the line of your collarbone, the curves of your body now exposed to him. There was no arrogance in his gaze, no smugness, only awe and reverence, as if he was seeing you for the first time, even if he saw you over the course of years together so many times.
It made you feel beautiful, cherished in a way that went beyond the physical.
Your hands moved to his waist, finding the belt of his yukata. You paused, your eyes meeting his in a silent question. He nodded, his gaze dark and intense, silently giving you permission. With trembling fingers, you untied his belt, letting the fabric fall open. He shrugged off the yukata, the material slipping from his broad shoulders, revealing the hard lines of his body.
He stood before you, every inch of him laid bare. His body was always a perfect view to admire. For a moment, you both stood there, the weight of what was happening sinking in.
Then, slowly, he stepped forward, closing the gap between you. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you against him. Skin against skin, his warmth enveloping you entirely. You let out a soft sigh, your hands finding their way up his chest to rest on his shoulders.
He bent his head, his lips trailing down the side of your neck, leaving a line of fire in their wake. His hands roamed your body with a mix of urgency and tenderness, exploring every curve, every contour. You arched into his touch, your own hands sliding up to thread through his hair, holding him to you.
"Satoru..." you breathed, his name a whisper on your lips.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes meeting yours. They were dark with desire, but there was something more there - something that made your heart ache. Vulnerability, tenderness, the look of a man who had finally allowed himself to want something deeply, fully.
"I need you." he said, his voice barely more than a rough whisper, his hands tightening on your waist. "Can I?"
You answered him with a kiss, pouring everything you felt into it -your desire, your acceptance, your own vulnerability laid bare. You pressed closer, letting your bodies meld together, the world around you fading into nothingness. There was only the two of you, standing there in the dimly lit room, skin against skin, heart against heart.
Slowly, he guided you back towards the bed, his movements careful and deliberate. Every touch, every kiss, was an unspoken promise, a silent declaration that this was real, that this was more than just a fleeting moment. As you sank onto the bed, he followed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes locked onto yours with a gaze so intense it made your breath catch.
He kissed you again, softer this time, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He held you like you were something precious, something fragile that he never wanted to let go of. And in that moment, as his lips traveled down your body, as he worshiped every inch of you with his touch, you knew that this was the start of something you both had been waiting for to happend again, something that went beyond words, beyond the night.
His body was bathed in the soft, dim light of the room, the contours of his muscles standing out in sharp relief. You had seen him like this before in passing years with him, but in glimpses, that had never lingered. But now, with nothing between you, there was a quiet intensity to his presence. He was beautiful, every inch of him carved with a kind of grace that took your breath away.
His hand reached for the clasp of your bra behind you and undid it in an efficient motion. You wondered for a second, how much practice he got out of you, over the years you'd spent together, if he'd learned that smooth move through you.
His gaze returned to you, his eyes raking over your body, now laid bare almost before him.
His hands moved tentatively at first, fingertips grazing the delicate skin just beneath your collarbone, tracing downward toward the swell of your breasts.
You could see the way his throat worked as he swallowed, his pupils dilating with every inch he explored. His fingers were warm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake, before they finally settled, cupping your breasts gently. He paused, his eyes flicking up to meet yours, searching your face for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, his gaze softened, filled with something deeper than just desire.
The way he looked at you made your skin prickle with heat, not from embarrassment, but from the sheer power of his desire. It wasn’t just lust in his eyes, it was an admiration, a raw need that made your heart thud in your chest.
"So beautiful." he murmured, almost to himself, his voice low and husky. He leaned down, pressing a soft, reverent kiss to the curve of your breast, his breath warm and uneven against your skin. The tenderness in his movements was at odds with the intensity in his eyes, as though he were fighting a losing battle to savor every second without rushing.
Slowly, he reached out, his fingers grazing the curve of your waist, trailing down your hip, and finally, over your thigh. He let out a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving yours as he continued to explore your skin, his hand moving with a mixture of awe and possession.
"God." he murmured, his voice a low, husky whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. "You’re... perfect. You always were." there was an almost pained quality to his voice, like he was struggling to find the right words to express what he was feeling.
You reached up, your hands resting on his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palms. His muscles tensed under your touch, a subtle shudder running through him as you traced the lines of his body.
Satoru moved then, his body pressing against yours, skin to skin, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. He kissed you again, harder, his lips claiming yours with a fervor that made you dizzy. His hands slid down your sides, fingers curling around your thighs as he shifted, pulling you closer to him, as if he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between you.
Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, drawing him nearer. His body pressed against yours fully now, the heat of him sinking into you, making you arch into his touch. He broke the kiss, his breath ragged against your lips as he rested his forehead against yours. For a moment, you both just breathed, the rhythm of your heartbeats filling the space between you.
"I’ve wanted this." he confessed, his voice raw and strained. "I’ve wanted you... for so long. Again."
You didn’t reply with words, there were none that could capture what you felt. Instead, you pulled him down to you, your lips finding his again in a kiss. The way you moved against each other, the way you fit together, felt like a completion, the rubbing against eachother, like something that had been missing had finally fallen into place.
You felt him everywhere, his presence overwhelming, consuming, and you surrendered to it completely.
Satoru suddenly went down. Each kiss sent shivers down your skin. Kissing your belly, lower abdomen and the inside of your thighs. Until he came to the place that needed it most, covered in a thin material. His white hair tickled your delicate skin.
"You are so wet." he gasped, mesmerised, running his finger over the soaked fabric. Shame crept onto your face, you wanted to hide your face, but you couldn't take your eyes off the fascination and hunger his face expressed. He played with the slippery material for a while, charmed by your reaction as you wriggled and shook slightly, waiting for more. You thought you were going to burn, that you couldn't stand the friction, which sent waves of heat and anticipation into every cell of your body. His hands glided down your legs, pawing at the material of your underwear and finally slipping it off, showing him a sight that was finally not covered or obscured by anything.
“I missed this view.” he placed one tiny kiss on you, on that tender spot, eliciting a gasp from you, making you come alive.
He was so focused. Watching you shine all over there for him. One finger slipped suddenly into you, bringing out the gasp from your lips. He slided in so easily, that you should be ebarressed by this easiness. You tightened your fingers on the fabric of the sheet.
He pumped it inside you a couple of times, stretching the walls slowly, like he was exploring. Then added another, pumping a little faster and firmer. He searched for tempo, angle, rhythm that would elicit as much sound from you as possible. Your moans and gasps filled the room, as he finally observed, what made you tremble and your toes curl. His fingers were perfect, long, so wonderfully filling.
You couldn't comprehend how perfectly they straddled your walls, how perfectly they hit all your sensitive spots, that you dreamed of targeting every time you let your tension ease. Without success.
He started working his mouth too, kissing, sucking and licking with such ferocity, that you thought you could see stars from every move his mouth made. You couldn't concentrate, the world felt dizzy, you bit your lip to keep quiet, not wanting to sound stupid from the pleasure you felt.
This encouraged Satoru to increase the intensity of every thing he performed on you. His fingers began to slide in faster and deeper, even though you thought it was impossible. His tongue licked a bigger chunk of your flesh, and his mouth sucked harder, eliciting shivers from the orchestration that was happening on you.
Your other hand weaved into his hair, catching a large chunk of white curls and pressing his head slightly, against you. He growled lightly, pressing himself closer to you. His nose rubbed against your clit with every movement of your hips, which caught a rhythm of their own, chasing something you longed to reach. Your legs shook and you could feel everything inside you building, swirling looking for a way out.
"Please, please…" you begged breathlessly, absolutly drowned in pleasure. You wanted it so badly. He made you wanted it. So much that you didn't think about what you were talking about, that you didn't know where you were. You only knew that he, his touch, was driving you to the edge.
It all grew inside you, higher and higher, until it finally shattered you, arching your back and tightening your thighs against his face. Orgasm spread over you like a wave, leaving you shaken and vulnerable. Stronger, than you could have imagined.
You squeezed your thighs tighter instinctively, somehow trapping his face between your legs, as he guided you through the whole process extending your pleasure to the end.
Satoru didn't seem to mind, growling and moaning a little. More than once he joked about how he could die between your legs, but you never took his words seriously. Until now.
Your chest rose and fell in heavy, irregular breaths. A haze of bliss clouded your senses, leaving you utterly dazed. Your hands, once clenched tightly in the sheets, now lay limp at your sides, your body sinking into the bed, as if it could melt into the warmth that enveloped you.
Satoru watched you with a satisfied, almost smug expression, his lips curling into a flirtatious smile. There was a gleam in his eyes, a mixture of pride and possessiveness, as he took in the sight of you, completely undone, caught in the afterglow of the pleasure he had drawn from you. He raised a hand to his chin, rubbing it thoughtfully, while his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He could still taste you on his tongue, a taste that lingered, rich and intoxicating.
He had tasted so many sweets tonight, but nothing compared to the taste of you. You were, without a doubt, the sweetest thing he had ever experienced.
He moved up slowly, his lips leaving a heated trail along your skin as he made his way back up to you. You could feel every breath he took, the warmth of his exhale sending shivers through you. As he hovered over you, he paused for a moment, his gaze locking onto yours, he wanted to gave you a minute to gain consciousness.
As soon as he noticed the dazed look in your eyes begin to fade, the focus slowly returning, Satoru didn’t hesitate. He moved with swift precision, lowering his head to press his lips against the delicate skin of your neck. His kisses were hot and urgent, trailing along the line of your throat, igniting sparks across your skin.
You gasped softly, your senses still heightened and your body sensitive to his every touch. He kissed you there with an intensity that made you arch into him, each kiss lingering as if he wanted to imprint himself into every inch of you. His lips traveled to the sensitive spot just below your ear, where he nipped gently before soothing the skin with his tongue, drawing a shiver from you.
His hands were not idle, they moved up your sides, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips.
As Satoru pressed his body closer against yours, you felt something hard, sizable, and warm against your pussy. You could feel it sliding over your wet folds, latching onto your clit teasingly, soaking up your wetness and spreading it all over his member, smearing a white pearl of precum on the tip. You were almost drooling.
It was a sensation you hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity, a feeling you'd been yearning for, one that made every nerve in your body come alive. Now, here you were, your body trembling with excitement and need.
His mouth found the curve of your neck, and you felt a gasp escape your lips as his teeth grazed your skin. He hissed softly, the sound a mix of restraint and desire. His hands were everywhere, gliding over your waist, your hips, as he held you close, making you two rub agains eachother with more friction. A soft moans and gasps escaped your lips.
He moved to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his lips pressing firm yet gentle against your pulse point. You could feel the heat of him, the tension in his muscles as he fought to keep himself in check. He pressed himself against you with more force, rubbing against your entrance teasing it, making you hold your voice.
"Look what a mess you've made... of me." he murmured against your skin, his voice rough, almost ragged. He bit down softly, eliciting a sharp inhale from you, and then soothed the spot with his tongue, sending a wave of warmth coursing through you.
Your hands found their way to his hair, threading through the soft strands, holding him to you as his mouth continued its exploration. Each hiss against your neck, each brush of his lips, sent sparks of electricity shooting through your body. It was as if every nerve ending was attuned to him, responding to every little touch, every sigh against your skin.
When he finally lifted his head to look at you, his blue eyes were dark, filled with an intensity that made your heart race. He held your gaze, his lips parted slightly, his breathing shallow.
"Tell me." he whispered, his voice barely more than a husky murmur, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me what you want."
There was no teasing in his voice now, no playful smirk on his lips, just raw honesty and a need for you to guide him, to let him know this was what you wanted too.
With a shuddering breath, you tilted your head slightly, baring more of your neck to him in answer.
"I want you." you whispered, your voice trembling with the emotions swirling inside you. "I want all of you."
The tension was unbearable, every second stretched into eternity. You felt like you were going mad, the need consuming you, overwhelming every thought until you could barely stand it anymore. Your voice, breathless and trembling, broke the silence.
"Satoru." you whispered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing." a bashful command. Your words, so raw and urgent, sent a shudder through him.
For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as though savoring the power of that moment, of your need for him, but the look in your eyes must have driven him over the edge, as he lifted your leg slightly, making more room, and guided the tip to your entrance, pressing gently against it.
A short moan broke from your lips as you felt him stretch you. Satoru wanted to slide in slowly, giving you time to get used to it, but you were so wet, so eager, that you accepted him at once. That suprised you both, as you gasped for air.
He didn't even know that he had pushed his hips all the way in unconsciously, too lost in the pleasure and the feelings he had inside to think logically. His eyes softened, his expression changed, his brow furrowed and his mouth opened, letting out a sweet moan.
"F-fuck, so tight... so wet…" moved gently backwards and pressed himself to the very end "A-ah, fuck!"
He filled you up so well. You put your legs around him pressing him closer to you, wanting to feel every last bit of his member. Satoru definitely let himself be carried away by the pleasure, pressing his lips to your neck and rolling his hips in a slow rhythm at first.
Every thrust he made you shiver and pleasure spilled from your lower abdomen to your entire body, dulling your mind. The rythm was nice and slow. His cock reached to the deepest parts of you kissing your cervix with every move.
It didn't take long before his movements began to speed up. Thrusting into you faster and with greater intensity, making you unable to control the moans that were coming out of you. His member lapped deeper, deeper and deeper, until you drove your nails into Satoru's back from the sensation, as he hit your g-spot. He whined, as you dragged your nails across his back.
"That's the spot, huh?" he said with an exhale of broken breath.
A few moves like that and you were both drunk on pleasure. He was so vocal, moaning, whining, gasping, complimenting how wonderful you were to him, how good it felt, how you take him so well.
He shifted, his body moving against yours with more precision, as he adjusted the angle of his thrusts to hit the sensitive spot inside you every time.
You could feel the tears coming to your eyes. It felt so good, so wonderful, as his cock penetrated your insides, meeting a point that took your breath away and made you dumb with pleasure.
You were so cockdrunk you were begging for more.
"Plase, more.. aaahn~" your eyes rolled back "j-justlikethat… ah 'toru.. please!" you repeated his name like a prayer, as he fulfilled your every little request - on more, on harder, on faster.
His thrusts were relentless and the sound of skin slapping against skin was everywhere.
You could feel the second orgasm gathering inside you, even more intense than the last one. Satoru must have felt it too, because he lowered himself to your ear to whisper a question.
"Where…?" he gasped, another moan breaking out of him as you pressed his hips with your legs, making his head fall onto your shoulder, helpless from the amount of pleasure you both felt.
"Inside." you cried, as he began to kiss away ever tear that fell down your flushed cheeks.
You were so close, you felt like you're gonna burn until nothing's left. What send you over the edge was his thumb, making it's way between your colliding hips and rubbing your sensitive clit that send another wave of pleasure that compleatly washed you away. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back, leaving marks for him to admire later.
He felt how you tighted against him, he growled, feeling he is going to bust in just a few seconds as well.
He kissed you hurriedly, swallowing your moans, as he rapidly pounded into you with everything that has left in him. He pulled away from your lips. For moment he rested his forehead against your, as his movements began to be stutter.
"Please sweetie, take me there." his voice sweet from pleasure "I want it so bad.. please."
A few harder thrusts and his body tightened against you. A loud moan escaped his swollen lips, as pressed his hips as far as he could into you. His cum painted your walls white, everything spilling inside you like warm lava.
His head fell numbly onto your breasts.
His chest rose and fell in sync with yours, each breath a quiet testament to the intensity of the moments just passed. You lay there together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, the air around you warm and still. Your breathing was slowly starting to calm down.
Slowly, you reached out, your fingers seeking his. The moment your hand found his, he squeezed it gently, a silent exchange of everything that words couldn't capture.
A soft smile crept onto his face, one that spoke of contentment, satisfaction, and something deeper that had been unspoken for far too long. He turned his head to look at you, eyes softening as they met yours. There was a glow to him now, a tenderness that made your heart beat faster.
You turned your head, pressing a soft kiss to his temple, feeling the sweat-dampened strands of his hair against your lips.
He pulled out of you, leaving behind a feeling of emptiness, his cum leacking from you, staining the sheets, but now coulnd't care less.
You will clean it later. Maybe.
Satoru shifted beside you, his arms wrapping around your waist in a gentle, but firm embrace. He pulled you closer, tucking you against his chest, as if he needed to feel every part of you pressed against him to believe this moment was real. You snuggled into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck, his warmth enveloping you completely.
For a moment, you both simply lay there, breathing in the calm that had settled over you like a warm blanket.
Then, you lifted your gaze to meet his, and he was already looking down at you, his eyes soft and bright. There was a glimmer of something playful in his eyes, something so unmistakably him.
A small giggle bubbled up from his chest, and before you knew it, you were both giggling softly. It was the kind of laughter that came from a place of pure joy, a sweet, almost childlike sound that filled the room. His laughter was warm and contagious, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched you.
"You're such a dork." you whispered between giggles, unable to stop smiling.
He let out a breathy laugh, pulling you even closer. "Says the person who’s giggling right along with me." he teased back, his tone light and filled with affection.
You both dissolved into another fit of soft laughter, your foreheads pressing together as you shared this small, tender moment.
Satoru's lips moved gently over yours, soft and unhurried, as if savoring each kiss like it was the first. His hand cupped your face, fingers tracing light patterns on your skin, while your own hand absentmindedly stroked his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was calm, peaceful, the perfect kind of afterglow, and for a moment, the world outside ceased to exist.
But then, reality began to creep back into your mind, and with it, the thought of what came next - what people would think, especially those closest to you. You let out a soft sigh against his lips, pulling back slightly to rest your forehead against his.
"What do you think Megumi’s going to say when he sees us like this?" you murmured, a hint of amusement in your voice, though the thought gnawed at you a little.
Satoru chuckled, the sound low and warm, vibrating through his chest. His eyes glinted with that familiar playfulness, the corners of his lips curling into a small, teasing smile. "Megumi?" he echoed, tilting his head to look at you "He'll probably think some curse took over us." he said, his voice light with amusement. "Either that, or he'll just roll his eyes and pretend he's not surprised."
You couldn’t help, but laugh softly at that, the image of Megumi standing there with his usual unimpressed expression coming to mind. "He would, wouldn't he?" you replied, shaking your head. "I can already see the look on his face."
"Yep." Satoru continued, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "He'd just sigh and probably mutter something about how troublesome we are. But you know he wouldn't really mind. Deep down, he'd be happy for us."
You smiled at his words, letting them settle over you. It was true, Megumi had always been quietly supportive in his own way. "Yeah." you agreed softly, your fingers tracing random patterns on Satoru's chest. "But still... it feels strange, like we've been hiding this part of ourselves for so long, and now it’s just... out there."
Satoru hummed in agreement, his lips moving against the side of your temple.
"Maybe." he admitted. "But we were never really hiding, were we? We were just... finding our way here." his hand moved to your back, stroking it gently, a soothing rhythm that made you relax even further into his embrace.
"It is real." he murmured against your skin. "And maybe it's a little strange, and maybe Megumi will think we’ve lost our minds, but this is us. And I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be."
You closed your eyes, feeling the truth of his words settle into your bones. It was real, and it was beautiful in all its strangeness.
"Yeah, that true." you whispered, turning your head slightly to press a soft kiss to his cheek. "It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks."
Satoru grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Exactly. And if anyone asks, we’ll just tell them the strongest sorcerer finally met his match." he wiggled his eyebrows playfully, earning a laugh from you.
"You really are impossible." you teased, shaking your head.
He just smirked, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against yours again. "Only for you." he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth.
He continued, his expression slightly changed.
"But honestly, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. You’re my wife - not just on paper anymore." his eyes softened as he looked at you, the weight of his words sinking in "We've been each other's since we took care of one another, and now… now we’re really together." he continued "I've always been yours, I was too scared to accept this. Now.." his blue gaze still focused on you "I'm not afraid."
A warmth spread through your chest at his words, a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the moment, but everything to do with the feeling of finally being seen and claimed in the way you had always longed for. You cupped his face, your thumb brushing over his cheekbone as you looked at him with a softness that mirrored his own.
"And you’re finally my husband. We’re finally together. The way we were always supposed to be." you replied, your voice trembling with the emotion of that truth.
It had taken eight years, eight long years of pretend marriage for you both to truly become this - a union that was more than just a title, more than just a piece of paper, more than friendship and sharing duties. It was real now, tangible in every kiss, every touch, every word shared between you.
He grinned at that, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of joy and relief. "We have the rest of our lives to make up for lost time." he added, his voice tender, his thumb continuing to stroke your cheek. "No more half-measures, no more walls, no more running away. "
You nodded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but they were happy tears, tears of finally being seen, of being loved the way you had always longed to be.
"Just us." you whispered back, leaning into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand anchor you.
"Yeah." he murmured, his lips brushing yours in the softest of kisses, sealing the promise between you. This was where you were meant to be, where he was meant to be. Together, in the quiet after the storm, finally, undeniably, whole.
𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. you have a limp leg, you can’t harness jujutsu, and you’re being married off to a man you could never have imagined being paired with, all for your clan to save face. not only that, you hold a deep secret—but that's hard to keep with an unexpectedly affectionate husband. will you manage to keep your skeleton securely locked in the closet, or will you die stripped of all worth and forfeit the love of your husband?
⟢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ⨾ HEY GANG im back did u miss me, yeah uh not much for now, just reader being ridiculed by everyone but gojo's a sweetheart so whatever <33. also note that reader is not entirely a weakling!!! it's all for the plot ok bear w me i promise it'll get better (you also have an edgy backstory btw).
ao3 ⟢ playlist.
You never wanted this.
To be thrust into an arranged marriage that you were certain your husband would detest was never something you desired. Especially to such a man as him. This man, one of such renown, married to you? A clan member who couldn’t even wield the very basics jujutsu? Where his distinguished, formidable strength looks like a joke beside his doormat of a wife? A wife who was always mere refuse to be disposed of?
The covenant of marriage is the most venerated, most blessed of contacts between two individuals who love each other. A ‘covenant’ is the highest form of a contract in and of itself. And matrimony is one that has been hailed and celebrated and accosted for millennia.
Why are marriages of convenience hardly addressed? When they are so common, even in an era of humanity where they are scarcely organised anymore? Espousal was something continuously arranged between children of monarchs or nobles, all for the benefit of their families’ pockets and reputation.
Your circumstances are no different. You were the runt of the clan. Runts are never of any use to anybody. Especially not in a society so set apart from the normalcy of non-sorcerers, where they have it so easy, living in ignorance to the incessant, looming threat surrounding them. The world of jujutsu is harsh, demanding, and tyrannical. Above all, it is political.
A child with a limp was the first flaw. A small girl who had her leg irreparably damaged one day at the age of four, all because of her own childish folly.
Hope still remained within the clan leaders for the girl’s future. They thought that, despite her impaired limb, she would exhibit great talent and aptitude for the clan’s signature technique when she reached age six. Many past sorcerers had managed to work with missing limbs or other permanent injuries, and still remained formidable in battle—so, what could possibly make her any different?
Yet, no such thing revealed itself in the child. The mishap was an extreme and unacceptable blow to the clan elders’ pride. No fruition came from their own expectations. Expectations that were not so far-fetched for the civic world of jujutsu, yet the child proved to be a disappointment regardless.
Talentless at jujutsu, the only thing that kept you from being completely thrown out was your sufficient amount of cursed energy to be considered sorcerer material and the ability to see curses themselves. The clan’s technique never manifested itself within you. You only knew the most basic of self-defence; unable to take lessons to greater heights because of your impairment.
You became, and was made, a recluse. The clan elders paid you no heed. They were generous enough to give you a room befitting of your status, but that was where their hospitality ended. The servants didn’t respect you. No one respected you. You were alone.
Despite all of that, your life was relatively peaceful, and, more frankly, boring. The harrowing mistreatment you suffered as a small child after it was discovered you were nugatory eventually died down. You spent your teenage years in the shadow of your accomplished and gifted younger cousin, Asuka.
And then, one day, at age twenty, everything went downhill.
You supposed it had always been only a matter of time until things took a turn for the worse. In this world, it had always only been a matter of time until you were cast out of the clan, once and for all.
“It’s time you were put to some kind of good use,” your great-uncle, the clan chief, said to you that horrible day. His fingers had been steepled into a calculating pose upon his desk that raised gooseflesh on your arms. “You’ve lived in peace here, leeching off of the fruits of your fellow clan members’ labour, for long enough.”
Gripping your cane, your fingernails bit into its leather handle, form tense on the chair you sat upon, and you had swallowed nervously. “…I’m afraid I don’t…exactly understand, great-uncle.”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” he had sighed resignedly and snatched up a brush, dipping it in the nearby ink pot, turning his attention to the paperwork before him. “Ever since the futility of your existence to the clan was revealed all those years ago, you’ve dwelled here sheltered and duty-free. Surely, you didn’t really believe we wouldn’t notice. Well, now it is time to give you something to do.”
Drawing your lips out into a thin line, you had shakily replied, “What is it that I am to do, great-uncle?”
“Marry.” He began to write on a piece of paper. “There is a man who is in need of a wife, if his clan’s lineage is to continue. Asuka-chan is not of age yet. You’re the only female here who’s…somewhat suitable.” He had looked up and at you with nothing to mask his contempt. His glance was brief and he refocused on his paperwork once more. “Our tribe is one of the greatest. We are a match for him, and the joining of our kinsmen would prove greatly advantageous to us.”
You sensed there was something more to this; his explanation of the situation was vague, ambiguous. Our tribe is one of the greatest. Was there something wrong with the clan that, as he had said, your sheltered self was not privy to?
“May I ask why I must marry this man?” There were a lot of things you had been dreading throughout your life here, and marriage was one of them. But, you had taken comfort in the belief that you were not of worthy calibre at all to be married off to another. This is not good. This was not good at all.
Does he know of how truly defective I am? If he did—or if anyone did, for that matter—you would be as good as dead.
Your hand rested subconsciously on your lower stomach, sweat beading on your top lip. No one can know.
How do I make sure no one knows?
He already said that this marriage would only be to continue the bloodline of your unknown future husband’s clan. It would be revealed sooner or later.
Your great-uncle paused, and a rush of cold panic hit you. Stupid! How could I ask such a thing? Your duty, as a woman in this world, was to sit still, silent and pretty. Don’t ask questions, just do as told.
But the clan leader had sighed and set his brush down. Although he evidently disfavoured you, he did not seem to be one prone to smashing a vase over your head at even the slightest slip up. If asking a perfectly reasonable question wasconsidered a ‘slip up’. And, thankfully, he didn’t think it one. Pursing his lips, he fixed you with a detached, uninterested stare. “No point in sugarcoating it, I suppose. It’s like this: our clan has fallen into dire straits. Enough to be a concern. You’re the only woman of marriageable age here. You may be a defect and a terribly embarrassing stain on our reputation—and it is utterly humiliating to have to offer someone as incompetent as you up to such a renowned man—but I’ve thought long and hard about this, and found that we have no choice. You are to be married, limp leg and all, in three months’ time.”
Overlooking his slights, you focused on the crucial aspects, fighting to push the further truth of the matter, that only you knew, away. “…Alright.” You tried to remember all of the eminent bachelors known in jujutsu society, and couldn’t think of one you would be suited to wed. “Who is the man I am to marry?”
Your great-uncle seemed faintly satisfied with your acceptance of the matter. You supposed he thought you’d throw a hissy at being forced into an arranged marriage, something all women dreaded. Of course, you were most certainly not at all pleased, but what could you do? Refuse? What choice did you even have? Maybe the only upside about this whole fiasco is that you’d finally be out of the horrid place and elsewhere.
Or maybe thrown into something worse. You couldn’t bear to think of it. Everything was already unbearable enough as it was.
And, considering the secret you held, that was only a given.
“I’m sure you know of the Gojo clan, and just how important they are.” Your breath had caught. Oh, no. It can’t be. The clan leader picked up the teapot at his side and poured some tea into a cup, not offering you any. “They are greatly acclaimed and with a flawless reputation. How wonderful would that be for us?” He took a sip. “The Gojo clan elders and fellow higher-ups began to speak of how the man is in need of a wife. And, seeing the opportunity, we sent them a letter of proposal. It was immediately accepted—by the man himself, even.”
It can’t be. It can’t be. Not him! You swallowed harshly, with great struggle, heart about to beat out of your chest. The words were an endeavour to get out. “And he is…?”
“Unfortunately, we could not leave any details about you out without being put at even greater risk. Imagine you turning up to the wedding with that leg of yours and unable to even imbue a mere spoon with cursed energy!” He ignored your quiet, hesitant question, and barked a laugh. “The highest of insults, that’s what that would be. He’d probably kill us all.” Your great-uncle shook his head, unaware and uncaring of your strained self-control and suspense. You needed him to confirm that it wasn’t the man you were thinking of.
The chief then waved a hand dismissively. “Point is, he’s agreed to marry you. I was so immensely surprised when I got the letter back. The proposal has been accepted, and you are now an engaged woman.”
You fought to keep yourself from having a panic attack. Unclenching your teeth, you asked, “Who is he, great-uncle?”
He looked at you. And he really looked at you. He silently interlinked his hands and stared at you from over the top of them with such an imperious gaze, and you felt like a mere ant under the sole of his foot. “When I tell you that this is the greatest honour you will ever be graced with, I mean it. It will likely be the only honour you’ll ever receive. Remember that everything is on the line here. Our family’s esteem, our family’s heritage and wealth—and your life. Everything is in jeopardy. Do not screw this up.”
“Yes, great-uncle.” You lowered your head, inwardly exasperated at him still withholding who the damn man was. You took a deep breath and tried to relax. “I understand, sir.”
“Good.” His chair creaked as he leaned back in it. “You are to marry this man in three months, as I said, and you will pack your bags and leave.” He leaned forward again. “If you do anything wrong and are sent back here, we’ll feed you to the dogs. Is that understood?”
His threats were not empty. You shakily nodded, frightened at how that future was easily envisioned, and virtually guaranteed. “…Yes, great-uncle.”
“Right. I am glad to hear that.” The man shuffled through his papers a bit, and then handed you one. “Take this and read over it well.”
Reading it, ice-cold sweat broke out over you. “Is—is this…”
“Yes.” Your suspicions were confirmed. No! “That is the man you are to marry.”
The paper in your hold began to tremble. “Him…?”
You must have done something truly abominable in your past life to be punished with this kind of fate. This man, of all men? Why? Even with your ‘sheltered’ lifestyle, you knew of him. Everyone did. It was vague, but you had memory of coming across him once when you were about seventeen.
This man was the strongest, and inescapable.
Your great-uncle elicited a wearied sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Must I repeat myself? Yes.” He picked up his brush once more, dipping it in the ink pot. The man paid your visible shock no heed. “On the eleventh of January next year, you will marry Gojo Satoru.”
The months leading up to the wedding were frenetic.
But today would decide whether the scales would tip in your favour, or if everything will go down the drain. You worried your bottom lip, smudging the lip gloss that had been applied by some maids assigned to you to doll you up for his arrival. One of the servants noticed and, considering how scorned you were in the clan, she was not afraid to click her tongue at you and wrench open the lip gloss tube again.
“You keep messing everything up!” She forcefully reapplied it, glowering at you. “Our heads will roll if there’s a single mistake today. Be more careful.”
You uttered no word in reply. Inside, you were indignant and ashamed that this servant girl would speak in such disrespectful manner to you, but you had no power here. You never had, and that would probably remain the same even after your marriage to Gojo Satoru.
Why must I be selected to marry him? There were countless other clans to choose from—the Kamo clan, the Zen’in clan, the Inumaki clan, and the Fujiwara clan—ones who doubtlessly had beautiful and mighty women that were a perfect match for a man of his calibre. Ones who wouldn’t make his strength look like a farce when he was placed next to them.
I suppose it’s because our clan is the only one on relatively good terms with the Gojos. And your clan was also just as renowned as the Kamos and Zen’ins. Why wouldn’t they wait until the likes of Asuka was of age? She was pretty, promising, and well on her way to being the next prodigy of the clan. The ‘one in millennia’ sort of thing. The one who could possibly one day even be a match for the strongest himself.
You knew that was a pipe dream, really—the clan elders were reaching for the stars again, clinging to that hope that Asuka would never turn out a setback like you.
Their prayers were answered. Asuka had mastered the clan’s technique at age twelve. Now fifteen, the higher-ups only had to wait one more year until she was of age to marry Gojo Satoru. Of course, there was no thought put into how the man was much too old for her, for only political and financial reasons were considered. You doubted the man would accept such a young bride, anyway. You didn’t know much about him in general, but you knew he had morals.
You were only two years younger than Gojo. It made sense to you why you were selected—but why were you even considered, apart from you being the only eligible woman in the clan? You have had to walk with a cane for almost two decades. You cannot, as your great-uncle so kindly put it, even imbue a spoon with cursed energy. All you could do was see cursed spirits and sense cursed energy.
A terribly embarrassing stain on our reputation, your great-uncle had said. Your family’s renowned technique was one of great danger to its enemies—the technique was notoriously difficult to harness, and a swift drainer of cursed energy, but when used, the consequences for the recipient were dire. Requiring great concentration and timely application, your tribe’s technique could drain the cursed energy from their opponent and store it for themselves. Essentially, using another’s energy against them, by ridding the foe of it. Of course, your clan was on the ‘good side’, so to speak, and only used such a tactic on cursed spirits or curse users. Along with several other advantageous traits, ‘Evocation of Essence’ (as it was cheesily dubbed millennia ago) was an immensely hazardous and mighty technique exclusive to your family name.
And to think Asuka had mastered it at only age twelve. You pursed your lips and looked down at your hands. The girl need only exist, and you are shown up for the futility you hold on the daily.
You were not jealous of her, no. She was only a child. Her being groomed and trained by the clan elders for ‘greatness’ was no fault of hers. Asuka never had a choice in the matter. Just like you. And, really, you were glad you were the one being exposed to this, not someone undeserving and innocent like her.
“You are ready, my lady,” one of the politer maids said, stepping away from having just applied the finishing touches to your hair. This will be ten times worse on the wedding day. She was even respectful enough to bow. “You must head to the waiting room to receive your guest now.”
“Thank you,” you softly acknowledged, rather moved by her courteousness. It was once in a blue moon you were talked to in such a way. “Please hand me my cane.”
Dutifully, the young girl handed it to you and you stood to your feet without much struggle. The door was opened for you, and you were led by a silent guard through the winding halls of your clan estate to the centre common room of the manor. You needed to be there, ready to greet your fiancé, before he arrived. Not only that, but you would be in the presence of your great-uncle, your ailing grandfather (former clan head) and aunt. They were the clan elders, as your parents had passed long ago, and were unabashed about expressing their deep regret at your existence.
This is the first time I’ve been in all three’s presence for years. The one you dreaded the most was your aunt. Being Asuka’s mother, the way she treated you before the girl’s birth and manifestation of potential was grievous. You never wished to lay eyes on her again. Six years later, you were put in a precarious position with the woman once more.
“About time you arrived,” were the first words of said woman as the reception room’s doors opened and you entered. Immediately, all of your previous inner pep talks and self-encouragement about holding your head high and ‘not letting her get to you’ went out the window. Once more, you were internally reduced to a shaking child of seven with a battered frame and empty stomach. Chinatsu, her name was, one of high revere and reputation within the jujutsu world, and your father’s sister. She held great political sway over jujutsu society. “I think I finally sprouted some grey hairs and wrinkles as you took your sweet time to show up.”
The room was filled with more people than just the three—some other elders you did not recognise sat nearby, all hailing from different clans, and all present to oversee the long-awaited arrangement of Gojo Satoru’s betrothal. And each chuckled at her toneless jest, all considering a lark at your expense immensely amusing. It’s always easy to pick on the less fortunate.
Masking your tumult, you meekly bowed your head. “My apologies.”
“Sit down,” she brusquely commanded, rolling her eyes at your limping gait and the tight hold on your walking stick. It was always taxing to remain standing for too long, and the lengthy walk to this room had taken a toll on your leg. The hand bracing your weight as you leaned against your cane was visibly shaking with exertion.
So you sat, and you tried to ignore the side-eyes from everyone in the room. Your aunt made no attempt to conceal her evident disdain at your presence. Inwardly sighing, you knew a lecture was on its way.
“Now, let me lay a few things out straight for you, girl,” she began, leaning back in her chair with one leg slung over the other, her arms crossed. “When he arrives, you stand up and give him your seat. If he declines, insist he take it. I doubt he will, though. Take one look at you for a bride, and he’ll wish he never came.”
It was starting to get harder to bear. This was the tone she took on before she would give you a beating as a child. But you gulped it down and steeled yourself. She can’t touch me here. I’m fine. It will be fine.
The woman continued, “And then you will remain completely silent. Speak only when you are spoken to. Which you won’t be. Act as if you are not even here. Don’t even look at him.”
“Chinatsu, dear, be a bit less harsh,” your grandfather cut in, waving a wrinkled hand at her gently. The wizened old man wasn’t coming to your aid, no—no one would. He was just concerned for the guests. It wouldn’t do to have these affluent people overhear the doormat of the clan be so obviously walked all over. There had to be at least some dignity retained. “I’m sure she already understands such elements.” Then he turned to you, old eyes hard. “Don’t you?”
Again, you lowered your head. “Yes, grandfather.”
“There you have it. Only thing she’s got going for her is that she’s not stupid. Let us engage in some light conversation while we await that boy’s arrival. Refreshments, anybody?”
And so your aunt backed off, and polite chatter began to filter about the room. No one addressed you, and nor were you offered any refreshments. You were left to awkwardly sit and stare at the floor in silence.
A quarter of an hour passed by when your great-uncle clicked his tongue. “That kid is never punctual. How long is he going to take?”
“If you were engaged to such a woman as that, would you want to arrive on time?” your aunt replied, chuckling dourly to herself as she inspected her nails. “No, I would relish every last moment of freedom I had.”
A delegate from the Kamo clan chortled. “My goodness, ma’am, you most certainly don’t mince your words.”
“There has never been any point,” she amusedly answered. “I feel awful for poor Satoru. How unfortunate was he when his clan requested this engagement. But, well, how could we have ever resisted such a tantalising offer?”
Throughout your life, you had grown a relatively thick skin to such constant ridicule. Although the words stung, the insults had become almost like water off a duck’s back for you. Maybe one day, you would be able to bear such villification and feel nothing.
What you were most afraid of right now, however, was the man’s imminent arrival. You don’t believe you had ever met. What will he think when he lays eyes on me? He would probably be gravely disappointed and, even worse, insulted. You wouldn’t blame him. If you were the strongest and coerced into a marriage with such a spouse as yourself, you wouldn’t be very pleased either.
Where is Asuka? This was a very formal familial gathering, surely even she would be present. But considering how particular her poor excuse for a mother was about her training, the girl would likely be in the courtyard, doing her daily drills and exercising. You felt sorry for her.
Neither of you were close, but you weren’t enemies, either. You weren’t much of a threat to her, anyway. She outshone you so brightly, you couldn’t ever even hope to compare.
A servant entered and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the people in the room. “Apologies for the interruption, but he has arrived.”
“Finally,” you heard your aunt mutter, and everyone stood to attention—except your grandfather, because he couldn’t stand—for Gojo Satoru’s entrance. What is he, royalty? Perhaps this was out of obligation, forced respect—which you suspected. Everyone in the room was at his mercy. The man wasn’t known for being quick-tempered, but you supposed no one wanted to take any chances.
The double doors creaked open, and in strode the towering, ivory-haired, blindfolded pride of the Gojo clan, Gojo Satoru.
“Goodness me!” were his first words, and he stopped before the room as the doors eased shut behind him, taking in all the politely standing guests in the room. “What a welcome this is. I guess it half makes up for my wasted time, that I could be spending teaching instead of humouring you lot.”
“Gojo Satoru, welcome.” Your great-uncle breezed over his brazen words and stepped forward, outstretching his arms in a cordial gesture of greeting. “It is an honour to receive you today. Please, sit down. Would you care for any refreshments?”
“Don’t bother if there’s no kikufuku. Let’s just get this over with,” is all he replied with. He allowed your great-uncle to lead him forward to sit. Quickly, you stepped out of the way and made yourself as invisible as you could manage, praying he wouldn’t notice you.
“Well, then, shall we begin?” your grandfather ahemed and spoke up this time, pointedly looking at your great-uncle. “I hope you don’t mind the onlookers gathered to witness this joyous event today, Gojo-san.”
“Joyous!” he snorted, flopping down in your chair. Quietly, you stepped aside so you were behind him, out of his line of sight, stomaching the pain in your leg. Gojo rested his elbow against the arm rest and placed his cheek against his fist, never having noticed you. His countenance was very informal—his legs were splayed wide, his regalia was not one fitting of this stately meeting, and his hair was tousled, held up into white spikes by his blindfold. You supposed this was his way of making it known just how highly he regarded this. He can’t wait to get out of here.
Fair enough. You wanted nothing more than to leave and never see any one of these people ever again, too. At least that was one thing you held in common with this man.
“Ahem, yes, well—Chinatsu, go ahead.”
“Of course, father,” your aunt smiled warmly at the man before her. “First of all, welcome, Gojo-san, and thank you for the proposal. We understand just how—”
“I didn’t propose it,” he corrected.
The woman shifted awkwardly. “Aha, naturally. Ahem, as I was saying, we understand just how inconvenient this is for you. However, the mutual gains outweigh the losses. Of course, the bride we have provided for you is not…the most satisfactory, to be polite about it…” She shot you a look before refocusing on Gojo. “But it is the best we can do. She may not be able to wield jujutsu, and neither is she fully able-bodied, but—”
“Where is she, then?” Gojo straightened from leaning against his fist and crossed his arms. “Considering all the slights you’re spouting about my bride-to-be right now, it sounds like you don’t want me to marry her and thus bring great prestige to your clan. That’s the goal, isn’t it? Let’s give all the sweet talk a rest for now and get to the point. I will be the judge of whether my ‘unsatisfactory bride’ is fit to marry or not.”
“I…I see. You are right.” She nodded stiffly, trying to conceal her aggravation at his blatant impertinence, and turned to you. “Well, dear, go on,” she stiffly urged, teeth gritted. “Introduce yourself.”
Swallowing thickly, you stepped forward reluctantly, face twitching with a slight wince at the exertion on your leg, and you stopped before Gojo Satoru. You kept your eyes down, bowing. “Welcome, Gojo Satoru. It is an honour to meet you. My name is [Y/N].”
There was silence for a beat. You felt a drop of sweat trickle down from the back of your neck, under your dress and down your spine.
And then, “So, it’s you.”
How cryptic. You had no idea what to make of his tone. He sounded neither happy nor disappointed. And then you saw a bright smile gradually spread across his face from the corner of your eye. “It’s lovely to see you again.”
Again? Reflexively, you flicked your gaze up to look at him, and was met with a blindfold. Not being able to see his eyes intimidated you, and you realised with a jolt of fear that you had looked at him when your aunt specifically told you not to. So you cast your eyes down again timidly, bowing your head lower. My leg will give out if I have to keep this up! “Apologies, Gojo-san, bu—”
“I’m sorry, did you say ‘again’?” your aunt interrupted, leaning forward and frowning. “I…fail to recall a time when the both of you could have become acquainted before today.”
“Oh, of course.” Gojo didn’t turn to her. He just kept looking up at you, and you tried not to squirm under his scrutiny. “It was long ago, anyway. I doubt [Y/N] here would remember.”
You awkwardly flattened your lips and kept your gaze carefully away. You had faint memory of one instance when you were seventeen and you had both crossed paths, but you did not speak to one another. You only remembered an obscured pair of eyes behind dark shades and the sensation of being stared at, and that was all previous memory you had of Gojo Satoru. But what surprised you most was that he remembered something along such lines. You were not a very memorable person. And most certainly not for an exalted and very memorable individual like Gojo Satoru.
However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had forgotten something awfully important. Something terribly detrimental.
“Well, do you remember?” Your aunt couldn’t keep the snap out of her tone this time. She hastily smoothed it over with a tight, but pleasant, smile, adding, “My dear?”
“I-I apologise, but I cannot recollect any memory of a past meeting, Gojo-san…” What remembrance you did have had no real significance, anyway. It felt like you were on death row, and every word you said was one step closer to your head being on the chopping block. “That is my mistake. Forgive me.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He waved a dismissive hand, unbothered, and finally looked away. “It doesn’t have…much to do with this, anyway. Perhaps I’m thinking of another.”
Yes, perhaps you are. How could he remember you? Someone so notable, so indelible? Opposed to the likes of you, Gojo Satoru even recognisingyou somehow left you bewildered. I must consider it an honour, if anything.
For the world shifted on the 7th of December, 1989. When this man was born, a bounty was immediately placed on his head.
Even as an infant, he was the strongest.
“Well…now that you are both…officially acquainted, we shall discuss the proceedings of this marriage.” This time, your great-uncle took the wheel. “Gojo-san, do you agree to it?”
“Yes,” he immediately answered. “I will marry her.”
Astonished, every onlooker in the room excitedly murmured about themselves at the unexpectedly direct confirmation. He instantly agreed. You almost fell over in shock.
Clearly, neither your aunt, great-uncle or grandfather were expecting this, for they all exchanged wide-eyed glances. Clearing his throat to silence everybody, your grandfather quietly said, “…Are you absolutely sure, Gojo-san?”
“Do you want me to marry her or not?” The man crossed his arms. “None of you sound very eager to get rid of her. Which you clearly want to do.”
Your head snapped to him, utterly astounded and offended. Must he point out the obvious and humiliate me more? You pursed your lips and hesitantly looked at your aunt.
She was red-faced and livid. Noticing this, your great-uncle jumped in before she could impulsively say something the entire clan would later regret. “That—That is…we are just looking out for…her. This is all for both our benefits, you see.”
“Oh, yes, I’m sure it is.” You had mixed feelings about this man. Does he really want to marry me? You doubted that somehow. And yet, he instantly agreed to wed you. Gojo stretched out his legs and crossed them over one another in a languid pose. “I can see that this poor woman here is just the apple of your eye.” Then he straightened and leaned forward, fingers steepled, elbows on his knees. “Look, I may be wearing a blindfold, but I’m not blind. At all. You think I can’t see what’s really at work here, under the surface? I thought all of you would have long learnt to never underestimate me.”
“Of course not!” your aunt hastily assured him. “We would never. We have only your best interests at heart, truly. Please know that we fully understand if you are unhappy with…her.”
Instead of replying to her, he turned to you once more. “You have a permanently injured leg, don’t you?”
“…Yes,” you responded softly after a pause, taken aback by the sudden question.
“Did they force you to stand up so I could sit down?”
You were stunned silent. If I say yes, I’ll probably be beaten. You swallowed, debating your next words. When will I be able to speak for myself?
You clutched at the handle of your cane. “…No.”
You saw the material of his blindfold shift; he had narrowed his eyes beneath it. “Hm. Okay.” There was a tense pause, then Gojo stood to his feet. “Please, sit.”
You gawked up at him, as did everyone else. “I—I’m sorry…?”
“Are you not even allowed to sit down in this household?” He tilted his head at you. “You are a lady, and my future wife. Please take my seat.”
Your heart lurched in your chest. You were utterly baffled, speechless. “I—I…thank you, Gojo-san.”
“Satoru,” he corrected, tone so unexpectedly gentle, offering you a hand to hold as you guided yourself to finally sit. Gojo’s grasp was warm, and his hand enveloped yours entirely. You tried not to sigh heavily in relief once you were sitting again; you were too busy staring up at him with wide, questioning eyes. “S-Sorry?”
“You may call me Satoru,” he softly reiterated, his dimples showing as he smiled. “Since we’re to be married.”
“We’ve…only just met, though.”
“Yes, but we’re to be married,” Gojo repeated, shrugging. Then he turned back to the dumbfounded three in front of you both. “When’s the wedding again?”
“Uh—it-it’s scheduled for the eleventh of January…” your great-uncle stuttered in reply. “That is in three weeks…”
Gojo heaved a sigh. “Alright, then. Well, since I’ve agreed and all, it should be settled, right?” He smiled tauntingly at the clan elders, and they all looked warily at each other, beginning to bob their heads in unsure affirmation. His grin widened. “Wrong.” He faced you again. “What do you say? Do you want to marry me?”
“I…” What choice do I have? You had none. Everyone here, even him, knew you didn’t have a choice. People like you never have a choice.
“…I will marry you,” you eventually replied, lowering your head.
“But do you want to?”
Why does he keep insisting? It just kept putting you in more and more of a precarious position with your clan even further. Finally, you gave him a quizzical look and slowly nodded. “Yes.” No.
Gojo’s lips pursed, and he was quiet for a moment, just staring down at you with his hands in his pockets. Finally, he exhaled through his nose. “Alright, then, that settles it. That’s it for the meeting, right? I’ve got things to do.”
“Of—of course,” your aunt stammered, and as Gojo headed for the door, everyone, including you, stood to see him out. With his back turned, she grabbed your arm and pushed you along faster, nails biting into your skin. She’s furious. Again, that fear you felt when you were a child. So raw and real. “Your fiancée here will see you out.” And the woman shot you a look screaming, don’t argue.
The doors opened, and he paused, turning to face the room again. But Gojo Satoru looked at you. “You don’t want this, do you?”
You weren’t super appreciative of how he was pointing out everything you were feeling in front of everyone. With one last nudge that appeared gentle, but was really very harsh, you were shoved forward by your aunt to stand before the strongest. Yet again, you did nothing but lower your head, and quietly responded for his ears only, “I am not sure.”
He stepped forward and took your free hand, bringing it to his lips. Placing a gentle kiss to the top of it, Gojo smiled at you. “Shall we talk outside for a moment?”
Murmurs resounded about the room, and you looked back at your great-uncle—but it was your aunt who gave you a murderous look and nodded once. Chewing on your bottom lip, you turned to Gojo once again. He hadn’t let go of your hand; it was still held up to his mouth. “Yes.”
So, the door shut behind you both, and you were led out to a small patio nearby, the area sunlit and warm, perfect for a private talk. The moment you were left alone, you turned to Gojo and bowed deeply. This is my chance. This was your chance to cancel the whole thing—all to save your own sorry hide. I’m tired of having no choice. “I would like to sincerely apologise for the awkward circumstance you have been forced into—”
“I never asked for an apology from you,” he quietly interrupted. Gojo grabbed the nearby chair and pulled it out. “And please sit here. I can see that standing on your leg for too long takes its toll on you.”
You blushed, humiliated. It’s the way I look so pitiful next to this man! “…Marrying me would bring irreparable damage to your name, Gojo-san.”
“Didn’t I tell you to call me Satoru?” He kindly guided you to sit down. And then he took a seat across from you, slipping off his blindfold. A pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen gazed at you through snowy locks. “And let me tell you right now—I do not give a shit about what other people think of me. In fact, I make it my life’s purpose to show those blood-suckers—” he pointed indoors, “—that they do not run my life. I run my own. I do what I want.”
“Forgive me for being blunt, but I do believe that is only because you are ‘the strongest’.”
“Be as blunt as you want. You’re going to be living with me for the rest of your life, anyway.” He shrugged, and you felt your heart jerk at his words. “And, yeah, you’re right. I’m the strongest, but those leeches never quit trying to make me their puppet.”
“Then this leads me to understand that you cannot comprehend just how treacherous of a position I am currently in. I am the black sheep of this family.” You turned your face away from him, unable to hold those blue eyes. Inwardly, you were applauding yourself for speaking without stuttering. Having an actual one-on-one conversation with another was not something you had experienced in years, and you were trying very hard not to have an anxiety attack. “They are doing everything in their power to be rid of me. And if you had declined the marriage proposal, I…” Drawing in a deep breath, you trailed off, then forced a smile. “Well. You get the gist of it. Point is, I do not want this marriage at all.” You were lying through your teeth. I have to get him to decline. If you didn’t, the true extent of your sheer inadequacy will be revealed. I do want to marry him, just to get out of here, but I won’t be safe with him either. “I’m giving you the opportunity to back out now while you have the chance.”
“You’re negotiating?” Gojo tilted his head at you and crossed his arms, slinging one leg over the other. He even arched a brow. “You know this is advantageous to your clan. And you. And, most importantly, me. What makes you think I’m going to back out?”
You lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. You didn’t look him in the eye. I’d rather stay here than suffer the humiliation of a divorce. You’d be killed for bringing great shame down on your family. “…I am a cripple. I can’t wield any jujutsu.” To demonstrate, you picked up the small potted plant on the outdoor coffee table before you both. With all your might, you tried to channel your cursed energy into it—and, soon, you were sweating from the mental and physical exertion. You smiled unsteadily at him. “See? Compared to you, I am even less than pathetic. And that image will reflect onto you, whether you care about your reputation or not.”
Gojo was silent for a moment, just watching as you shakily put the plant back where it was. You decided to use his silence as a chance to continue speaking. “It is not unknown how—although you believe it your duty, as the strongest, to protect them—low of a regard you hold weak people in. Why would you accept me as a bride when there are countless others from fellow clans to choose from? Ones that are strong, capable, beautiful, and have talent in all things jujutsu? I really don’t think this marriage is worth it.”
Better being harshly castigated for getting him to call off the wedding than die for being divorced. You feared the consequences, yes, but they would be short-lived. Another year or two and you could melt back into the background again, unnoticed once more.
“If it brings any comfort, I have only chosen to marry you because of an heir.”
Exactly why this can’t go through! “I know. Even so, I don’t believe I’m a suitable spouse in that regard, either.”
“Why?” Gojo squinted at you. “Are you unable to have children?”
“I—No…” You tried not to avoid his eyes and thus blow your cover. “I…can have children. I just…”
“Don’t want to?”
“…I suppose so…” You awkwardly scratched your cheek. “I understand that it’s the point of our marriage. But—well, in short, I’d rather not…do this.”
“I see,” he said after a moment. Gojo gazed out into the garden the patio overlooked, before sighing. “I’m still going through with the marriage, though.”
“…Sorry?” You balled your hands into fists on your lap.
He looked at you intently with striking cerulean eyes. “I’m still going to marry you.”
“Why…?” His adamance utterly bewildered you.
“Because.” Gojo held the stare for a bit too long before shrugging. “It gets a lot of things off my back. Off your back. I can see you’re itching to get out of here. So am I. Do you know where we’ve been ordered to go for our honeymoon?”
You hadn’t travelled out of your clan estate in a very long time. The offer was…enticing. “Where?”
“Ginzan Onsen. You’ve seen Spirited Away, right?”
One of the few joys of your childhood. “Many times, yes.”
“Great. That’s where they’re sending us off to, partly for a mission I’ve been assigned and partly to make a baby.”
You felt your neck and face burn at his blunt wording, and you turned your head away. “I see.”
“Anyway,” he continued, breezing over the awkward atmosphere. I suppose his easy-going nature and straightforward manner is handy at times. “Just rest assured that I won’t be doing anything to you that you’ll be uncomfortable with. If you don’t want a baby, then there won’t be a baby. Simple.” Gojo spread his hands as he shrugged again. “Our marriage will still be very convenient to us—to hell with these boneheads here—without or without a child.”
Still doesn’t solve my main problem! It was all very well and good to say there won’t be a baby if you don’t want one, but eventually the pressure will accumulate, and neither of you will have a choice. And then the truth of just how deficit you really are would be revealed.
God must hate me. Your future looked so pitifully bleak.
Dropping your gaze to your lap and your fisted hands, you drew in a deep breath to brace yourself for everything. “Alright.”
Strangely, the man before you immediately brightened at your soft acquiescence. “You will marry me?”
“Yes,” you sighed. Let’s get this over with, then. “I will marry you.”
⟢ click here to continue reading on ao3!!
REUPLOAD note!!
unfortunately, all three of the accounts i used to update my fic on (wattpad, tumblr and ao3), were hacked into and subsequently deleted. during my absence, i have decided that i will update this fic on ao3 ONLY, and i have made refinements to the storyline to make the plot make more sense <3
to those who were my kind readers before my account(s) were deleted, it’s lovely to have you back. here is a list comprised of the changes i have made to the fic, just to avoid confusion:
- by using the period of time i was waiting for an ao3 invitation, i have mostly planned out the rest of the story. therefore, aspects in the previous edition do not exactly make sense anymore. this includes y/n’s age. to make your backstory with gojo and in general more comprehensible, your age is now 20, not 22.
- you are no longer two-and-a-half years younger than gojo. you are only two (pretend you were born in 1991 🙏; gojo is 22).
- gojo does NOT have a teacher’s licence. i have decided that gege’s words concerning this actually make a lot more sense. for my fic’s storyline, gojo became a teacher around mid-2011. this fits into the plot better.
- and for the story timeline to flow more optimally, i have changed the year the fic is set in to january 2012, not 2015. you will see why later on <3
apart from those four things, the fic itself is more or less the same. i hope you are fine with these changes and that you all will be able to continue to enjoy the story i have poured much love into <3
thank you all for the sweet messages you left here before my account got deleted. it’s a shame they are now gone. however, im back!! so, without further ado, let’s get into it !!
Synopsis: Satoru became something to you during your school years together at Jujutsu Tech, which were ended abruptly when you were casted out from your clan and left the jujutsu world. When Satoru finds you again after years apart, you find out that you were something to him too. Maybe you still are.
Warnings/Content: fem!reader, season 2 spoilers, violence, brief depictions of blood and nudity, language, death/murder, conspiracy, allusions to toxic households/anxiety/physical abuse, some arranging marriage things, toji giving more teenagers trauma
Author's Note: This has been sitting in my drafts for a while, and I'm glad it could get it to y'all! This chapter focuses much more on the reader than anything, and it's overall more angsty, but I promise the good stuff is coming soon! The Kamo family and any of its mentioned characters/members in this story are made up and dramatized for the point of this series, and are not canon. Make sure to read the prologue and chapter one before this one, if you haven't. Also, I wanted to thank all of those who have supported my Color Blue series, and that the next chapter is in my drafts! <33
Walking up the steps to Jujutsu Tech had to be one of your least favorite activities, but the five of you pushed forward. You were almost home free. Once you reached the inside of the jujutsu barrier, the mission would be complete.
Memories from that morning flooded your mind. Satoru had still been awake when you got up from the couch after a somewhat peaceful rest. How did you sleep? His voice had been gravely and quiet, completely exhausted.
Good, you had yawned as you stretched, making your first task to go and find him some caffeine. What you didn't say was that you actually had been awake for an hour before you decided to move. You had felt him caressing the ends of your hair, running his knuckle along your cheek while he assumed you were still unconscious.
You can't get any more obvious than that, (y/n). Riko's words rang through your head.
"Satoru." You stopped and turned to where he was walking up the steps behind you. Upon hearing his name, Satoru grinned and trotted up until he was on the same steps as you so you both could continue together. He didn't seem to care that he left his conversation with Suguru.
"Something up?" he chirped.
"No it's... I needed to ask you about something, actually." Your focus was on the steps below you as you ascended them, hands behind your back as you took up a leisurely pace. A few seconds passed as you considered your next words.
"Well? I'm waitiiiiing," Satoru sang. That caffeine had definitely helped.
Are you sureeee...?
"You know what, I think I'll tell you when once we finish the mission," you stated haughtily, shrugging as a way to playfully brush off the issue. Now probably wasn't the time anyway. It might be better to ask once the stress of this mission was past all of you. Satoru turned back to chat with Suguru.
Finally, you reached the top of the steps. "Good job everyone. We're inside Jujutsu High's barrier now," Suguru commended with a smile. You patted Riko's back as she hunched over from the exertion of the trek. "Satoru, (y/n), you both really worked hard this time."
You returned a small, awkward smile.
Satoru just scowled. "I never wanna get stuck babysitting a brat again."
When you turned to Satoru with a remark on the end of your tongue, there was a blade protruding from his chest.
You hesitated, eyes wide. Impossible. You're inside the barrier! Geto sent a curse careening for Satoru's attacker, causing him to remove the blade and jump back. The curse gobbled the mercenary in one bite, but you knew that would only prolong his attacks. You ran to Satoru's side, pressing a hand to his chest and back where the blade had entered to heal him.
However, Satoru pushed you away gently, explaining how he used his technique to keep the blow from being fatal. "Don't waste your energy. I'll take this guy, you three get her to Tengen-sama."
You almost protested, but you knew your role in this mission was to keep Riko alive, which meant you had to stay with her the whole time. With Suguru protecting the three of you, you would be safe. "Be careful, Satoru. Let's go!" Suguru shouted. Riko and Kuroi ran to his side as they started to sprint.
"Satoru..." There was something seriously wrong. Why was Satoru attacked instead of Riko? Hadn't her bounty been lifted also? This man must have some kind of technique to allow Satoru to not be able to sense him, or, even worse, he might not have cursed energy at all. But if that were true, how had he been able to see past the barrier?
"Seriously, (y/n), I'll be alright. Protect Riko," he said with surprising calmness. His assurance gave you confidence. He's the strongest. He would be fine. You turned to catch up with Suguru and the girls, and hoped you weren't making a mistake.
The shrieking of the old elevator filled your ears as the four of you descended deep into the earth. Suguru made sure that no cursed energy residuals were left, especially once you reached a chosen entrance of the Tombs of the Star Corridor. That bastard would be lucky if he even found one of the entrances.
Once your group reached the bottom, the four of you stepped out and peered into the darkness of the corridor beyond. Riko seemed to look forward towards what she believed to be her final steps as herself. "This is as far as I go, Riko-sama," Kuroi stated with a bow. Riko ran to her and hugged her tightly, tears filling their eyes.
"I'll stay with Kuroi," you declared. Riko whipped her head to you. "Suguru will keep you safe," you assured her, taking a few steps in their direction, "we'll remain to guard this entrance." You pulled Riko into a deep embrace, her tears soaking the sleeve of your uniform. "Thank you, Riko..." you whispered, not specifying what for. You held her head as tears threatened to fall from your own eyes. In the span of three days, this girl managed to become a dear friend to you, like Shoko.
You glanced over Riko's shoulder and made eye contact with Suguru. You hoped he could see past the despondency in your eyes to know you were pleading with him. You, Satoru, and Suguru had discussed the terms of Riko's assimilation in private. She didn't have to assimilate if she didn't wish to. You trusted Suguru to convey that to Riko before it was too late.
You and Riko broke apart, sniffling and wiping tears. "Tell Gojo I said thank you, (y/n)," she whispered. You could see the hidden message behind her words, the happiness she wished for you to pursue. You would. For her, you would.
You watched as the two started a leisurely pace ahead. It was more a speed that someone might take on an evening stroll instead of to the end of their existence with a ruthless murderer on the hunt nearby, yet you stared from behind in awe at Riko's silent bravery. Soon enough, her and Suguru were out of sight as their footsteps faded within the passing minutes. You and Kuroi stood there in silence.
"You raised Riko well, Kuroi," you whispered, pausing for a moment. "I know you said her parents passed in an accident, but, if you don't mind me asking, how did her parents die?" Accident was a vague term.
"A car wreck," Kuroi responded. "A head on collision. They were crushed in the front seat while she was sitting in the back."
"Ah... and how old was she?"
"Six."
You went silent. What was special about six years old anyway? Was that the age that all gifted girls lost their parents?
"(y/n), do you think that... if I always knew that Riko would one day depart from me, from the world... was I wrong to teach her... to allow her to become attached to the world?" Kuroi's words left the silence as slowly as they had entered.
"Do you mean because Riko would one day assimilate that she should have never learned to love the people around her?"
"Yes well, I mean, she could still appreciate things but... this world was never meant to be hers, yet I treated it like it was. Was I wrong to do that?"
"No. Absolutely not," you challenged. "The world was hers. The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it. Now, we just need to see what she'll do with it." You paused before explaining. "Riko doesn't have to assimilate if she doesn't want to. She can live a life. If you had not raised her the way you did, she would never consider that option available to her. Satoru and Suguru are prepared to protect her, if necessary. We can make the world hers again."
Kuroi's head snapped in your direction. "So you mean... she can come back?"
"Yes, thanks to you, I have no doubt she will come back. All we have to do is wait." You smiled softly.
Kuroi gasped and beamed. "Thank you, (y-"
Blood protruded from Kuroi's stomach where three bullets had entered from behind. You screamed, rushing to where she fell, before two bullets lodged themselves into each of your calves. The pain spiraled throughout your body as you fell forward.
You gritted your teeth as you tried to raise yourself, but a foot cracked down on both of your shoulders, the bones crunching. "Ah, sorry, can't make it too easy for you to heal yourself." The man who had attacked Satoru stepped off your shoulder to kneel in front of you. "You should heal from it naturally though if you put your technique to work. I would finish you myself, but I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog." He stood and began to walk away.
How was he here? Where was...
Where was Satoru?
"I am not... a dog!" you gritted out between your teeth. This man... you had heard of him before. Sorcerer killer, your adoptive father had called him. The bastard of the Zen'in. The man turned, intrigued, and stalked back towards where you lay, your blood pooling and mixing with Kuroi's, who was slowly losing life by the second. Heal her. You needed to heal her, but with your significant injuries, you only had enough energy to heal yourself before you could even think of getting to Kuroi.
The man grabbed you by your hair and lifted your body up with one hand, bringing you eye level to him. You cried out at the blinding pain, unable to even try and fight him with your broken shoulders. He scrutinized your expression like he was looking at mold on food. The man scoffed, spitting at your face as he said "You look like one. You look like your father."
Your father?
How did he-
Your tormentor only let out a strained laugh. "Seriously? You never figured it out? I can tell by the stupid fucking look on your face." You squinted, confused. "Your parents were the easiest job I had ever got. One of them wasn't even a sorcerer and the other couldn't even use proper cursed energy. It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth. And for what? Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?" A smirk before he added, "Come to think of it, your dad was making that face right before I slit his fucking throat." You saw red, and tried to kick him in his abdomen despite the pain in your legs. Before you could, you were discarded to the floor, next to Kuroi's now dead body. The man continued on towards where Suguru and Riko were now.
Your screams echoed out towards the hall, pleading and calling out for your friends to run, to warn them of the oncoming slaughter, but to no avail. The tunnel stretched on for miles. Your voice would become nothing with the immense distance, and it would take too long for you to heal yourself.
How did he sneak up on you two so quickly? Would Suguru be able to stop him? You hoped he would. You prayed he would. Suguru was second only to Satoru.
Your fingers danced across the piano keys, playing a melody that you forced yourself to become familiar with over the past few weeks. Chopin's Fantasy in F Minor. You had just started to move into more of Chopin's works during your daily practices after your adoptive father asked if you could prepare one of them for him when you returned home after graduation. Something to look forward to, he had said.
You moved through the piece with grace, keeping your posture, arms raised at the perfect angle as you played. You remembered how your mother had instilled playing posture in you when she gave you your first piano lesson at four years old. You had sat on her lap before her keyboard, giggling as she adjusted your hands and put them over her own as she played. Your father, your real father, had sat on the couch and laughed, adding snarky comments here and there.
You look like your father.
Your thoughts faltered only for a moment, but your hands remained active. You just needed to finish the piece perfectly before calling your practice for the day. The grand piano echoed down one of the hallways of Jujustu Tech. The Kamos had made a request to move a piano into an unused classroom to act as your practice room during your time as a student, to which the school agreed.
I don't need the Kamos coming after me for killing their pet dog.
Your parents were the easiest job I ever got.
It was almost stupid, how pathetically they went down for the amount they were worth.
Toji Zen'in had killed your parents. You knew that now. But if the Kamos had ordered your parents death, what did they have to gain?
Your dreams ran rampant with images of your parents, nightmares, watching as Toji Zen'in slit your father's throat. Sometimes it wasn't his throat he was slitting, but your own.
Sometimes it wasn't Zen'in holding the knife, but your adoptive father.
No. The Kamos would never. Never.
One of your fingers slipped and ruined the cord you were playing. You huffed and forced yourself to start from that cord again.
You never figured it out?
Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?
Dog. Dog. Dog.
The piece finished before you realized you were done. You sat there, fingers resting on the keys. Your eyes just stared at the notes in front of you, no more than dark blots and symbols on a white canvas.
This world was never meant to be hers.
The world is still hers because you raised her to believe it.
What was your world anymore? Riko and Kuroi were dead now, killed by Toji a little over a year ago. Suguru was beaten within an inch of his life. And Satoru-
The sliding door opened with a smack, revealing Satoru's peeved face. "You finished ten minutes ago. Why are you still sitting here?"
He was waiting outside? "Sorry, just writing down some notes to myself," you lied as you closed your music and left it to rest on its stand. He never questioned the fact that you didn't even have a pencil. "Is something wrong?" This was the first time that he had ever come near your practice room. You're surprised he even remembered where it was.
"No? Just grabbing you for dinner. Suguru and Shoko are waiting," Satoru stated as he began to walk away from the room with you not far behind. "We're going to that one place I recommended. I came to get you cause I knew you wouldn't answer your phone while you were practicing... didn't want to cut too close to when we planned on leaving."
You sighed. Of course he would "ask" if you wanted to tag along without giving you much of a choice. Your eyes glued themselves onto the back of his neck up to his temple as he walked. The scar that used to peak out from under his shirt collar was long gone, but you pretended it was still there. You could still see it. The spot where Zen'in had stabbed him.
Miraculously, he had finally grasped his reversal technique within his dying moments, saving his own life before he killed Zen'in himself.
It should have been you. You should have been the one to kill him, not that you would have survived anyway. You supposed that if you died fighting the man that killed your parents, you would die with a smile on your face. Maybe if Satoru had known that you wanted it, if you hadn't been in hospice while Satoru had landed the killing blow, he would have let you.
Satoru still didn't know that Toji had killed your parents. No one did. You couldn't find it in yourself to reveal the truth that had changed everything for you to anyone.
You didn't even have a plan for when you graduate, what you would do once you moved back home...
When that scar used to linger on Satoru's skin, he would only smile and thank you whenever he caught you looking at it. Even if it was his outrageous amount of cursed energy that saved him, he gives you the credit for saving his life. Satoru reasoned that if you had not given him lessons in reversal energy, then he wouldn't be standing before you today. You never saw it that way. With his growth, he was bound to learn it at some point anyway.
And Satoru's abilities didn't stop there. He was close to mastering every Six Eyes and Limitless technique known to his clan. He had surpassed Suguru and the rest of the sorcery community months ago. Some were already calling him the strongest sorcerer of the modern age.
Sure. Only you had seen the scars that made you think otherwise. Satoru had asked you to heal them off his skin around 6 months ago. Your heart had panged with each inch of the scar he exposed to you, with the largest one having reached all the way from his neck down to his pelvic bone. There were more the had littered his legs, spots were his tendons had been ripped it two. The last one had been on the skin of his temple, hidden under soft white hair, where a blade had entered his head and straight into his brain.
It was after you had finished healing those scars that you told yourself to never pursue him. Not just because you thought of yourself beneath him, but because only a god could have survived those attacks. The world seemed to bow to him and him alone. It scared you. He was still the same boy you had fallen in love with but... ever since Riko's death, he had become something... else.
As you exited the building, you found Shoko and Suguru outside. You noticed Suguru's eyes watching you as you walked down the steps to meet them.
Satoru hadn't been the only one to change that day. While he seemed to move forward at break neck speed, Suguru, to you, seemed lost. Stuck in place, almost as if his consciousness and feelings were consistently stagnant. You couldn't tell what it was, and you hoped Satoru would notice soon. If anyone could tell what was wrong with Suguru, it was him.
"We ready?" Shoko spoke up, taking her cigarette out of her mouth and snuffing it under her boot. Suguru stood.
"Yeah, let's hurry so we can stop for dessert on the way back," Satoru encouraged. The four of you began to walk towards the school entrance.
Satoru leaned down briefly to whisper a "thank you" in your ear. You only shook your head and continued walking.
You had envisioned graduation as something celebratory, as an event that would ring in your memory as your next step into jujutsu sorcery. Instead, it felt hollow, at least on the inside, like something was missing.
Something was missing, no matter how much the three of you tried to ignore it.
Three, not four.
Satoru tried to play it off the best, as if Suguru's betrayal of him and jujutsu society hadn't devastated him both emotionally and mentally. If anything, Suguru had come closer to killing Satoru that day than Toji had the year prior.
But for the three of you, that was normal now. Right after your graduation and small celebration in Shoko's new apartment, Satoru left on a mission that would keep him away for a week. Shoko went back to her job, one that she was now getting paid for as an employee working within the Tokyo headquarters as a jujutsu physican and mortician. However, you returned back home to your family estate.
You didn't want to go back, didn't want to stomach seeing their faces now that your eyes had been opened. You even considered begging Satoru to take you on the mission with him, even if you wouldn't get paid for it. However, you knew he needed the distraction, the space.
As your adoptive father embraced you, you felt like fainting. He could tell something was wrong, but said nothing.
Your only hope was to wait for a mission assignment. You hadn't been assigned missions for a while in the weeks leading up to graduation. It worried you a bit, but you thought that maybe you were going to be given a position similar to Shoko soon, either by her side or in Kyoto. Kyoto would be great. The further from here, the better. For now, all you could do was wait.
To anyone within the Kamo household, it seemed like you had never changed. Your demeanor returned to how it had been when you lived there: indifferent, graceful, and silent.
No, you had changed, and because of that, you could now see how far these walls pressed in on you where you failed to notice them before. You were no longer as obedient and pliant as you once been. Three years as Gojo Satoru's best friend had changed that, for sure. You had forgotten how much of your life you couldn't dictate, all the way from your finances to the kind of clothing you were allowed to wear. Now, these walls felt like confinement, like a hawk in a delicate white bird cage.
You took up a routine similar to the one you used to keep before living at Jujustu Tech. Training in the mornings, piano in the afternoon, entertaining family and guests in the evening. Some days you would meet up with Shoko, and some nights she would graciously offer for you to sleep at her place. She could see how the Kamo house was affecting you, but you both knew you could never stay.
In the days that followed, you would make occasional visits to Jujustu Tech with your adoptive father and other Kamo members. It was here that you would see Satoru in passing, talking with Shoko or Yaga. He somehow seemed to stand straighter, taller, You knew it was for show, but more show than usual. However, when Satoru looked at you... it was different, to say the least, almost like he felt sorry, but when you were able to catch him alone, it was like nothing had changed. It was relief.
"You ever think about moving out of that hell hole?" Satoru mused, chomping down on some frozen dessert he bought earlier. "I certainly would if it meant I didn't have to wear that shit all the time." He gestured to your traditional-Japanese wear.
"It's because this is considered a visit on business. As if I didn't live here for three years..." you groaned, adjusting your collar. "I just have to get used to it again, the routines and the clothes and whatnot."
Satoru hummed. "Y'know... you could always move in with me. My place has like, a gazillion open rooms, and it's quiet. Plus, we can continue our Mario Kart tournaments whenever we want."
You perked up at the offer, but shook your head. "I would, but, I don't think my father would approve of me living in the Gojo household with the unmarried sole Gojo member..."
"What do you mean?" he snickered. "Wait, don't tell me. Is your father trying to set you up for marriage?"
"It's been... discussed."
"Well, whoever he is, must suck to be him." You just hit the remainder of his food out of his hand. "Fuck, okay! Did you really have to do that?" No answer. "Okay, okay, I kinda deserved it. But... why would your dad marry you off? You're not Kamo by blood, so..."
"I dunno, I've been kinda asking myself the same thing. Maybe something to do with the last name and possible advantageous bullshit I don't understand. I've been... I haven't asked," you sighed, crossing you arms and looking out on the training grounds. The chill in the air breezed in through the open doorway, signaling winter's arrival. Only a few months ago, you had practiced your combat and sorcery skills on the very plot of land in front of you, hoping to raise your grade for higher missions or maybe become recognized to work with students here on the campus. You never thought that after graduating you would be so... stuck.
"Well, what if we got married?"
You paused. Did you really hear him correctly?
"It doesn't have to be weird or anything. Just to get you out there and have your dad stop nagging you on this stuff," Satoru shrugged, as if he were offering you a favor or giving you a suggestion. He was doing that, but... did he truly understand the magnitude of what he was saying?
"Are you out of your mind? Satoru, he would never agree to that!" you exclaimed.
"Yeesh, I didn't think you disliked me that much. Personally, I think I would make a wonderful husband," he nagged, a smug grin on his face.
You rolled your eyes and sighed. "My father sees you more as an enemy than a potential ally. He'd probably blow a fuse by just seeing us talking here." Your adoptive father wasn't really appreciative when he learned of the friendship between you and Satoru once you returned home. He even blamed some of your recent misdemeanors and slight attitude on Satoru as well.
"So what? Then would I just have to ask him myself?"
"Why are you so damn adamant on this," you muttered. "If anything, you'd just make the situation worse."
Satoru brushed that comment aside. "I'm adamant because you're my friend, a good friend and..."
You looked to him, quirking an eyebrow at his sudden tone change. "And what...?"
You stared at your plate of food in front of you, fully untouched. Your appetite felt absent, almost on and off, as it had been since your conversation with Satoru over a week ago.
Ever since that conversation, the thoughts of what your adoptive father actually had planned for your future weighed heavily on you. You began to think about how much your father could dictate between mission and job assignments in the jujustu community and how they could let those trickle down to you. And the only reason for why he would stop you from getting any...
Marriage. Definitely marriage. What other reason could there be?
But to who? And when? And why? With all of these questions, you began to realize that you would probably take Satoru over almost anyone as your husband, just because you knew who he was to begin with and because you got along with him. Your less admitted attraction for him was of the least of your reasons, too.
But then you remembered what the duties of any arranged marriage entailed, not just an alliance, but heirs-
Yeah, you didn't want to think about marriage period. You wondered why the Kamo Clan even needed an advantageous marriage right now anyways. Not to mention, why it had to be you instead of any of the many eligible Kamos. You didn't know exactly what you wanted, but you knew you didn't want to stay here, or anywhere where you felt-
"(Y/N)," your adoptive father murmured your name from across the table. He had requested to have dinner with just you today. Why, you had zero clue, but you tried to remain calm. "Are you unwell?"
"Apologies, Father... just, thinking..." you whispered, unable to look up at him. You found it hard to be in his presence already, let alone make eye contact with him as of recent.
Your adoptive father sighed, and then spoke, "You're thinking about why I asked to have dinner alone, and if this means what I'm about to tell you..."
Your heart skipped a slight beat, blood creeping through your veins with reluctant fear. "Yes..."
"Well then, I suppose I should ease your mind then..."
Your sense stilled with a sudden anticipation, as if every nerve in your body waited to watch.
"I have chosen a suitor for you. One I'm sure you'll be pleased with," he said, a proud yet firm thrill in his tone. For some reason, Satoru's face flashed in your thoughts, despite the the cold that now settled in your spine.
"I see..." Your shoulders caved a little, the news still hitting you as unexpectent, like some part of you still hoped that he was going to give you what you wanted: solitude and space to find your own purpose, to discover what you wanted your world to be...
"You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto."
Haruto. As in his youngest son. Your adoptive brother.
That was the final nail in your coffin. You would never be able to leave.
You didn't cry. You didn't move. You weren't even sure you were breathing.
Your adoptive father could sense your apparent shock, and allowed you to excuse yourself to your room to give yourself time to think. A small, hidden mercy.
He was waiting for you back in the dining room, going to be expecting an answer, or maybe even thanks.
Just so the Kamos could get their hands on you?
Dog. Dog. Dog. Dog-
You are to marry into the Kamo bloodline, to Haruto.
The last words your father said before you left the room sounded in your head the loudest: With your technique mixed with our blood, we can finally have techniques level to, if not above, the Gojos. Be merry, (Y/N). You will finally be one of us.
Everything made so much sense now.
He wanted you for your technique. You were never a Kamo, you were of no use to him except for this.
He killed your parents to get your technique.
He killed your parents. Ordered the hit so Toji could murder them to cover himself, and then steal you while he pretended to head an investigation.
To get you. To get your technique into the Kamo bloodline. To become a breeding mare to his son.
Your adoptive father killed your parents.
You bit back your scream, your anguish, your tears. A lifetime as a sorcerer had taught you how to channel that anger, that fear... and it taught you how to use it as well.
Your hand reached for the gilded knife that you always kept beneath your pillow. It had been a graduation gift from him.
Your breath hitched. Were you really going to do this? He took you in where you would have had no one, gave you shelter and security, trained you as a child and comforted you as well-
Satoru's body always seemed to move faster than his brain. Especially now.
Snow crunched beneath his boots as he strode, thick and packed from that morning's snow storm. The night remained clear, moonlight shining off the stone path to the Kamo household like watery gems.
If anything, the biting cold made he want to turn back, but he wouldn't stop, couldn't. He knew that he had to do something about your situation, not just for you, but for himself too.
Satoru knew the best course of action would be to strike this agreement as soon as he could, when your adoptive father would least expect it, to catch him off guard. He could do the convincing part later, even if his true reasonings didn't matter in this case.
But what should he say? He's never asked anyone's father if he can marry their daughter, let alone when that father is the leader of the Kamo Clan and when that daughter is also you, his friend, his... everything now, he realized. He had nothing left but you-
There was a body on the front steps.
Satoru rushed forward, quickly, almost too quickly, recognizing you-
You were bruised, bloody, completely stripped of your clothing, face down in the snow-
Shit. What did they do? How long have you been here?
Satoru immediately sensed the servants, no, Kamo members, by their cursed energy, walking towards the door. He needed to get you out of here, make sure you were alive-
Satoru practically tore his coat off, wrapping your body and taking you into his arms. When the sliding door opened, the only trace of you was your blood on the steps.
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