The End Times — Gojo Satoru
the end times — gojo satoru
synopsis. gojo satoru thinks he’s going to die because you’re giving him the silent treatment. (aka your first big fight with gojo).
contents. hurt/comfort, ooc, lovesick!gojo, you give him the silent treatment and he goes crazy, he is so pathetic in this one, tw obsessive behavior (he makes it EVERYONE’S problem), gojo’s pov
notes. loosely inspired by that one scene from yakuza fiance. not proofread whats new
Gojo knows he’s screwed up the second he steps into the common area of Jujutsu Tech’s dormitory. The air feels thick, wrong. And then there’s you, curled up on the couch, a book open in your lap, but your eyes aren’t moving.
His grin falters for half a second before he masks it with his usual bravado. “I always knew you had a little freak in you, but reading your erotic books out in the open? Who knew my girl was such a perv.”
The joke usually earns him a laugh, a shove, maybe even a teasing retort. But tonight, the silence that follows is deafening.
The pit in his stomach grows.
“Sweetheart?” He tries again, waving a hand obnoxiously close to your face.
You finally react, swatting his hand away, but there’s no playfulness in the motion. Your eyes don't even meet his.
“You’re late,” you say flatly, still staring at your book. “Again.”
Gojo scoffs, irritation bubbling. Not at you, never at you, but at the damn book that’s getting more attention than him.
“Ah, you know how it is. Got held up in Kyoto,” he says with a shrug.
The words leave his mouth too easily. He doesn’t realize his mistake until you finally, finally look at him.
And it’s nothing like usual.
There’s no warmth in your gaze, no sparkle of amusement or exasperation. Instead, you pin him with a look so sharp it strips him bare, leaving nothing but the hollow weight in his chest.
“You missed our date.”
His breath catches. His throat goes dry. “I–”
“I’m not mad about that.”
Relief floods him too fast, too soon. His shoulders sag as he leans down, tilting his head for a well-earned kiss. “You’re the best. I swear, I’ll make it up to you.”
You pull away before he can touch you.
Gojo freezes.
“[Name]?”
You exhale sharply, shaking your head. “You know, it’s funny.”
There’s nothing funny about this moment.
His pulse thrums as you continue, voice eerily steady. “That your mission was in Kyoto. I mean, we have a whole sister school there, full of sorcerers ready to handle a first-grade threat. So why would they need you, specifically?”
His stomach drops.
He’s never been good at guilt, not when he’s spent his whole life believing he’s untouchable. But now, standing before you, unable to meet your eyes, it sits heavy in his gut.
And you don’t let up.
“Of course, I asked around. Thought maybe I was overthinking it.” A humorless scoff escapes you. “Imagine my surprise when I found out my boyfriend was too busy meeting with his future bride.”
Gojo’s mouth opens, but for the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to say.
“That’s–” he starts, then stops because, shit, you’re staring at him like he’s a stranger. Like he’s someone you can’t trust. The realization makes his stomach churn.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” you say bitterly, arms crossing as you lean back into the couch. “I mean, I’d love to hear how you were going to explain this one, Gojo Satoru.”
Full name. That’s how he knows he’s really fucked up.
“It’s not–It’s not what you think,” he says quickly, voice unusually hoarse. His usual bravado, his charm, none of it is coming to him. He doesn’t even know where to start. “I wasn’t–I wasn’t hiding it. I just–”
“You just forgot to tell me that your clan is arranging a marriage for you?” you cut in sharply. “That slipped your mind?”
“No! Yes—Fuck, that’s not what I mean,” he groans, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s never felt like this before. Like he’s scrambling for footing on uneven ground. “I didn’t tell you because it didn’t matter, sweetheart. I wasn’t ever going to go through with it. You know that, right?”
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Do I? I mean, Suguru seemed shocked when I didn’t know that these were recurring dates set by your clan.”
Gojo falters.
“You didn’t even think to tell me, Satoru,” you say, voice quieter now, but somehow even more devastating. “You didn’t think I deserved to know?”
His heart clenches. That’s not–God, that’s not what this is.
“Of course you deserve to know! But I—” he exhales sharply, trying to gather his words. “I just—Fuck, I thought it was stupid. I thought it wasn’t worth mentioning.”
You shake your head, looking almost tired now. “Right. Because I’m just supposed to assume you’d never go through with it. After your multiple dates with her. Because I’m supposed to read your mind, just like always.”
The weight of your words crashes into him, and Gojo suddenly realizes that this isn’t just about Kyoto. This isn’t just about one lie, one mistake. This is about every time he’s brushed things off, every time he’s let silence speak for him, every time he’s sat through those excruciating meetings, knowing he would never go through with it, but never once thinking about how it would feel for you to find out this way. This is about every time he’s expected you to just get him without him ever having to say a word.
This is about how, even after everything, you still don’t know how much he loves you.
And now, looking at you, Gojo is terrified that he’s already lost his chance to prove it.
“I’m going to sleep,” you stand up from your place on the couch.
Gojo tries to follow you, “Listen, baby–”
“I don’t want to talk to you right now. I need some space.” you turn around to send him a teary glare and that stops him in his tracks. He had never seen you cry. And it tore him apart knowing that he was the cause.
The sound of your door slamming echoes in Gojo’s mind.
Gojo Satoru is the first one in class the next day.
He drums his fingers against the desk, restless in a way he can't explain, but he knows it has everything to do with the fact that he spent the entire night not sleeping. His mind was too busy replaying the way you had looked at him, no, the way you hadn’t looked at him.
He had left you alone and upset. He had made you feel like you were second to someone else. And worst of all, he hadn’t even realized it until it was too late.
“This must be a first.”
Gojo glances up as Suguru enters, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Gojo Satoru, on time? It must be the end times.”
He knows it’s a joke, but it might as well be the end times. Gojo doesn’t respond, just presses his lips into a thin line as he goes back to mentally reciting the apology speech he’s been revising in his head all night.
Then the shoji door slides open again.
You walk in with Shoko, your head tilted slightly as you whisper something to her, something he’ll never get to hear because you don’t so much as glance in his direction. Instead, you take a seat at the farthest desk, as if he isn’t even there.
A part of him withers away.
But Gojo Satoru isn’t one to give up.
If words won’t get your attention, he’ll just have to be Gojo Satoru about it. He leans back in his chair and stretches obnoxiously, before loudly exclaiming, “Yaga-sensei! Are those grey hairs from your recent divorce?”
He grins, waiting for the familiar sound of your laugh, for that little shake of your head, for you to scold him like always.
But you don’t even look at him.
Instead, he’s met with Geto and Shoko’s twin expressions of abject horror, and before he has a chance to register what’s happening–
BAM!
Yaga’s palm collides with his head, sending him face-first into his desk.
Even through the throbbing pain, he can only think about one thing.
You didn’t even react.
“And how exactly is she ignoring you?”
Shoko’s grumpy voice echoes through the morgue, where she’s been attempting to practice her technique. She’s clearly unimpressed that Gojo Satoru has decided to spam-call her instead of dealing with his own problems.
“She’s ignoring me, Shoko,” Gojo groans dramatically from the other side of the Jujutsu Tech campus, rubbing the fresh bump on his head as he stands in front of your door. “I’ve been knocking for an hour. She’s in there. I know she’s in there, but she won’t answer.”
“Maybe she finally got tired of your bullshit,” Shoko says dryly. “Honestly, I don’t know why it took her this long to hold you accountable. She’s let your bad behavior slide for way too long.”
“Why are we talking about me like I’m some kind of dog?!”
Shoko ignores him.
“From the sound of it, you really messed up. I mean, who keeps a marriage a secret from their girlfriend?” She pauses, then adds with a smirk in her voice, “Oh, right. You.”
Gojo groans, pressing his forehead against your door. “You and I both know that’s not what happened. But she doesn’t. And she won’t even give me the time of day to explain.”
Shoko sighs. “Give her time to cool down.”
“And what, let her decide she wants to run off and marry some other guy? Move to a cute little beach town in Enoshima, start a family, have three kids, and leave all Jujutsu sorcery behind?”
There’s a long pause before Shoko makes a disgusted sound. “O-oi. Keep your weirdly detailed fantasies to yourself.”
“I’m just being realistic,” he insists, clutching his flip phone dramatically.
Shoko promptly hangs up on him.
Gojo stares at the device for a moment before slowly lowering it, exhaling hard.
Then he rests his head against your door again, defeated.
But Gojo Satoru was never one to admit defeat, so he tries again. He returns to your door the very next morning, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“[Name]!” he chirps. “I bought us some parfait! Let’s talk things over, yeah?”
Silence.
Not even the sound of movement.
But Gojo Satoru is not easily discouraged.
So Gojo Satoru comes again the next morning.
“[Name]!” he knocks again, this time balancing a slice of strawberry cake in one hand. “This is all my fault, so come out and let me apologize properly!”
Nothing.
Gojo sighs, leaning against the doorframe, about to knock again when—
Your phone rings.
His breath catches as he presses his ear to the wood.
“Hi, Suguru?”
His heart stops.
“Yeah, we’re still on for the movie. I’m just about to leave right now.”
For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru understands what people mean when they say they feel like they’ve been punched in the gut.
Because you’re going to Suguru.
You’re not just ignoring him, you’re choosing someone else.
His fingers twitch at his sides as a feeling he doesn’t like at all creeps into his chest. It’s something ugly, something unfamiliar. Something that feels a lot like jealousy. Was that how you felt?
He wants to knock again, wants to demand that you open the door, look at him, let him fix this before you walk away from him any further.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he presses his lips into a thin line, shoves his hands into his pockets, and forces himself to step away from your door.
Forces himself to give you the space you deserved.
You don’t know why you relent so easily.
You shouldn’t. Not after the way he lied, the way he kept something so important from you.
And yet, when you hear him pacing outside your door, his nervous energy practically seeping through the walls, you feel something crack.
He’s been outside your room for the nth time this week. Every day, like clockwork, he’s knocked. Brought your favorite snacks. Talked to you through the door, filling the silence with his ridiculous banter, even when you refused to answer.
You squeeze your eyes shut, gripping your blanket a little tighter. You should stay angry. But you can't.
You sigh, pressing your forehead to your knee.
Maybe it’s time to stop punishing the both of you.
With a deep breath, you stand, crossing the room to the door. When you open it, Gojo nearly stumbles forward, mid-step in his pacing.
His eyes snap to yours, wide and filled with so much desperate hope it makes your chest ache.
And the way his face lights up like you’ve just handed him the entire world tells you that, maybe, you were never going to be able to stay mad at him forever.
But you’re here, leaning on your door frame with your arms crossed, your nails digging into your skin as you glare at the man who has spent the last ten minutes tripping over his words, looking wrecked in a way you’ve never seen before. His hair is messier than usual, lips are parted like he wants to say something, anything, but he doesn’t know where to start.
Finally, you scoff, breaking the silence. “If you don’t have anything to say, I’m going back into my room.”
“No!,” Gojo steps forward instinctively, like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers. And after everything, he is. “I screwed up.”
You give him a deadpan look. “Oh, really?”
He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Okay, yeah, I really fucked up.”
Silence.
You should say something. You should demand an explanation, yell, maybe even cry, but you’re so tired. You’ve spent days twisting yourself into knots over this, convincing yourself you never meant as much to him as he did to you.
And then Gojo says it.
“I should’ve told you.” His voice is hoarse. “I should have told you after the first meeting. After the first second they brought it up.” He swallows hard. “But I was stupid. I thought if I ignored it, if I went through the motions, if I waited for the right moment… then it wouldn’t matter. That it would be over before you ever had to know.”
You shake your head, letting out a hollow laugh. “Satoru, do you even hear yourself? Do you get what it was like for me to find out from someone else? To hear that the person I–” you cut yourself off, but the damage is done. You see it in the way his breath hitches, in the way his fingers twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for you.
“The person you what?” he asks softly, pleading.
You clench your jaw. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter.”
Your shake your head. “You lied to me.”
“I know,” he says, and the sheer brokenness in his voice makes your throat tighten. “I know, sweetheart. And I swear to you that I never meant to. I never wanted to hurt you.” he exhales shakily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear on everything, I was never going to go through with it. I never even showed up to any of the dates, so they kept ambushing me under the guise of missions! I sat through every single one of those goddamn meetings thinking about how ridiculous it was, how there was only ever one person I wanted.”
He stops himself, inhaling sharply.
And then, quieter, almost afraid:
“How there’s only ever you.”
The words hit you like a fist to the chest.
Gojo watches you carefully, breathless, waiting. Hoping. He’s given you the truth, raw and unfiltered, and now it’s up to you.
And maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the way he looks at you like you’re the most important thing in his world that makes you believe him.
For the first time in a week, your lips find his, and Gojo swears he can finally breathe again. The warmth of your palm against his cheek, the way your fingers curl slightly as if grounding yourself in him. It’s enough to make him melt.
"You’re so insufferably cheesy, Satoru," you murmur against his lips, your breath warm, teasing. "It makes me so angry that I love it." A pause, a soft exhale. "But I forgive you."
His grin is instant, smug and shameless. "That was good, huh?" He tilts his head, cerulean eyes twinkling. "I’m willing to bet your heart skipped a beat."
You roll your eyes, but you kiss him again, slower this time, because, damn it, he’s right.
extra!
“I demand some extra loving!” Satoru sprawls dramatically across your bed, limbs hanging off the edge like a defeated king.
You barely spare him a glance, flipping a page in your book as you lie comfortably on your stomach. “And why, exactly, do you deserve that?”
He lifts his head, pouting. “I deserve it after a week’s worth of psychological trauma. Don’t think I forgot that you ditched me for Suguru.”
“Oh… that.”
“Yeah. That.” His voice is thick with exaggerated betrayal.
You finally look at him, a smirk tugging at your lips. “It was a fake phone call, Satoru. You were just so insufferable camping outside my door that I had to make up an excuse.”
His jaw drops. “Huh?!”
More Posts from Thew1zzywiz and Others
Here is a visual guide to get 3 hearts + a gift for nightbringer (diavolo, barbatos, solomon, simeon and luke under the cut)
in the first game giving them a gift as the first move acted the same as a high five this is not true anymore
giving them a gift as the first move the next two moves are the same as a “normal” non-high five round (I think)
I am unsure if these combos work with the guest on your home page
Here’s the one for the first game
Keep reading
SATAN simply loves it when you embrace him, your hands are smaller than his and the warmth he feels as you hug him. He loves it even more when you are in bed, while he reads a books and you are just there, hands wrapped around his torso.
It makes him feel giddy, fuzzy-
It makes him feel things he never experienced.
Even more that he loves is your smile. The way you give him a smile, a laugh that his heart cherishes.
And when you are not your usual self, whenever you feel broken, he's there to collect your pieces, he's there to soothe you. To tell you, that it will be okay. That everything will turn out fine.
If he could he would stay with you for all eternity.
And no matter how he wants to assure himself that he would one day have to watch your demise unfold. That he will move on, that he will be himself -
But he knows there is no one like you, no one would love him the way you do. And that makes his heart ache because clearly not everything will stay the same.
He will not be the same.
✎ a birthday to remember
- gojo satoru x reader
what is the so-called grand surprise does your husband prepare for your birthday?
genre: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—massive fluff, comfort, pregnant!reader, (cough) pregnant sex
note: hi peeps it's been ages since i last wrote gojo :') and love entries on that matter *sobs* but here it is... my birthday has passed too but here's to any of you whose birthday is near!
a part of gojo's love entries
general masterlist
“Sensei— happy birthday!”
This year, your birthday happened to fall on a workday.
If it were up to you, you would have taken the day off. However, Satoru had been assigned to Osaka and wouldn’t be returning until weekend, so taking leave and stay at home would most likely make you feel lonely.
Not only that, with you entering the fifth month of pregnancy, you figured it was better to stay active. And by the end of the day—you didn’t regret coming in at all. The students were all so sweet, they even chipped in to get you a pretty maternity dress to wear. You couldn’t wait to tell Satoru about them tonight.
You skipped happily toward the parking lot, but right when you turned the corner, suddenly—
“Wifeeeey!”
“Oh my god!”
You let out a loud gasp and took a step back, taking in the view. A sea of colorful balloons, with a man in suit standing right in the middle of it—
Your husband. In flesh. You blinked once, twice— thrice.
“Satoru...?”
He poked his head out of the string of balloons, a beaming, million-dollar grin lit up his face at the sight of your shocked expression. “Wifeeey! Happy birthdaaaaay!”
Before you could even process his sudden appearance, he had you in a chokehold, engulfing you in a bear hug and nuzzling his face against yours with childlike enthusiasm, the faint scent of his cologne filling your senses.
“What are you doing here?!” you half-shrieked, the surprise spilling from your voice.
He pulled back, frowning dramatically. “Ehhh? You don’t want me to be back?”
“Yes—”
His eyes widened as if you’d just committed the gravest betrayal. “You big meanie!”
“No,” you quickly retracted, trying to hold back your own smile at how comically dejected he was. “I mean… aren’t you supposed to be back on Sunday?”
“Heh heh, nope! I lied~” Satoru chirped, his grin returning in full force. “It’s my wifey’s birthday—how could I not come back for you?”
In that moment, your heart fluttered. He was probably saying it for no reason, but the fact that he really did fly back from Osaka just to meet you for your birthday meant a lot to you.
His big, warm hand then gently caressed your visible baby bump, his grin widening when he got a kick. “Ah, right… Hello to you too, baby! Did I startle you too? Sorry~”
You rolled your eyes, retorting, “He is terrified.”
Satoru leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper directed at your belly. “Don’t worry, baby. Papa’s here now, and he’s got balloons. That makes everything better, right?”
“...how long have you been standing here with these balloons?”
“Hmmm, not long. About an hour, maybe?”
“You shithead—why didn’t you just come inside?”
Satoru’s gasp of mock offense made you laugh despite yourself. “And ruin the surprise? My wifey deserves the full dramatic effect!”
Being Gojo Satoru’s wife certainly came with its fair share of patience-testing episodes, and sometimes you wanted to return him to Yaga for additional lessons of discipline.
But it was candid, over-the-top acts like this that reminded you just how lucky you were to have him.
Satoru brought you to a high-end restaurant for your birthday dinner before the two of you finally returned home.
And the moment you opened the door, you were greeted by countless balloons floating on the ceiling and the ground, the fairy lights illuminating the room in a cozy glow.
You were taken aback, mesmerized by the sight. “When did you even have the time to decorate the house?”
He grinned, looking far too pleased with himself. “I have many little helpers—”
“Don't tell me it's Ichiji and Nanami? Satoru, you—!”
“I promised Nanami I wouldn’t make him blow up balloons! Though I might have heard him grumble something about being above this…”
"You're unbelievable..." You let out a resigned sigh, yet still smiling as you stepped further into the living room, now bathed in the soft, golden glow.
Satoru observed you with a quiet smile. His pretty wife, and the small life within you. He adored you the most out of everyone else in this twisted world.
Click! Click!
"Huh?" You turned to him when you heard the distinct sound of a camera shutter.
Satoru was holding his phone, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just capturing the moment, you know. You, the lights, and baby. It's perfect.”
You giggled. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”
He shrugged, that signature grin returning. “What can I say? You’re beautiful.”
Later, you'd find out that one of the photos would be his lock screen from now on. It would be the first thing he saw every time he unlocked his phone.
Satoru brought out the box he had prepared, handing it to you with a sly grin. “Look, sweets, before we go to bed, I have one more gift for you—and you have to wear it now.”
You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued, as you took the box from his hands. The moment you opened it and pulled out the contents, you froze.
“—?! Satoru!”
A scarlet lingerie set. The bra features intricate lace trim along the edges, and the matching panties are equally bold, with a sheer lace overlay. Your cheeks flushed as you glanced at Satoru, who was watching you with an winning grin, clearly pleased with his choice.
“What?” he challenged. “They'll suit you, c'mon.”
“You're absolutely shameless.”
“But you love me anyway~”
You let out a defeated sigh, glancing up at him, already realizing there was no way out of this now.
“You’re lucky I’ve hit my head somewhere and married you.”
. . .
He was right. It fit you perfectly.
The moment you got out of the bathroom, Satoru could feel himself getting hard already. You looked like a vision, the deep red seemed to highlight your every curve, turning you into an effortless seductress.
And not only that, you were adorable too— fiddling with your fingers and touching your rounded belly, barely hiding how self-conscious you were.
"Don't just stare at me..." you mumbled, glaring at him.
He reached out, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek, his touch tender despite the fire in his eyes. “You’re making it hard to look away, you know.”
His hands then trailed down, skimming the sides of your body, each touch lingering just long enough to make your breath hitch. It was almost as if he was unraveling you, piece by piece, and you weren’t sure whether to pull away or pull him closer.
And wait... was it just you or were the space between your legs indeed getting hotter and wetter?
As if reading your mind, suddenly two of his fingers touched your barely clad pussy, and you gasped. That's right— there is indeed a hole in this freaking lingerie!
"Are... we...?" you swallowed, your gaze meeting his.
"Can I?" he asked back, voice husky. His crystal clear eyes burning with lust as he assessed you— from your eyes, lips, and then the inviting sight of your cleavage.
Did you want this?
Of course you were. Your birthday was still far from over, and you missed him too.
In response, you pushed his already hovering fingers inside you, making you hold your breath. From that point on, Satoru knew what you wanted.
Without another word, he rubbed soft circles around your clit, and you let out an unabashed moan at the contact, clinging to his shoulders for support. "Ahh..."
He teased you for a while, before slowly entering his fingers into your throbbing folds, and you were close to collapsing if it weren't for his secure hold over you.
"You're so, so damn naughty..." he whispered lowly in your ear. It was taking everything he had not to lose it right then and there. He wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, but the sight of your writhing face and that baby bump was damn distracting and ignited the beast inside him.
He made you pregnant already, but there was just this primal desire— wanting to mark you more...
His fingers slowly pumped in and out of you, dragging them deep but just not deep enough—
"Please..." you scratched his back unwittingly, frustrated at his shirt that got in the way. "I-I... want... you..."
How sweet. Satoru relished in your titillating breaths and chuckled, vigorously continuing his dirty ministrations.
"Say it louder," he growled in your ears. "Can't hear you."
The bastard. You yanked his hair and made him catch your teary gaze. "I... want you..."
Sinful desire flared to life at your words. "Your wish is my command, missus."
Satoru suddenly pulled out his fingers—ignoring the whine you accidentally let out for being empty all of a sudden—and admired the sheen, sticky whiteness on them.
"I barely did anything and you're this wet already," he snorted, tasting it. "They're right about the pregnancy hormones."
He placed his hand on your waist, pressing a kiss on the firm skin of your belly, before undoing his belt and trousers and pulling out his hardened member.
The sight made you actually gulp, especially when he pumped it. He pulled you to his lap and guided his pride to your sopping entrance. The moment he inserted himself, he let out a groan of relief, while you arched your back and hissed, "Ngh!"
Satoru captured your lips, his hand pressing against your aching spine. He pulled you closer, urging you to take him completely.
"Ahh— ugh... mrgh!" you sighed against his neck as soon as you did, trying to even your breath. This was something you had done so many times before, but why was this time felt like an awakening of some sorts?
"Most beautiful," he breathed in your ear wickedly. "Don't worry, leave everything to me."
He rocked his hips against yours, one hand on your back and the other gripping your thigh. With each salacious thrust, you mewled and he panted, keeping you steady all the while.
He could feel your baby bump rubbing against as his toned abs, going along with the rhythm. Satoru grinned proudly, noticing how much it had grown over the past few months. The baby must be healthy in there, huh?
The relief somehow spurred him into pick up his pace, thrusting you more deeply than before. You almost squealed.
"You know what?" he grunted, mind hazed. He didn't really realize what he was saying to you, to be honest. "You're the prettiest when you're like this— round and full, with my kid."
You only caught the lewdness in his words, but you weren't able to ponder about it as he suddenly buried his face into your supple breasts.
"Look at them, getting bigger too— these days..." He sucked on the sensitive skin and you gasped in pleasure, crying out afterwards when he fondled them with both hands.
Your senses were overly heightened and you knew you wouldn't last long. Satoru too knew he was nearing his orgasm as he tore your new bra and sucked on the mound, furthering your never-ending moans, causing your eyes to roll back as the blinding pleasure overtook you— pushing you to cum right then and there.
In the next second, he pushed you into him impossibly deeper, and his hot release gushed inside your womb. You writhed at the sudden fullness, before getting limp and collapsed into him, not even realizing that you had squirted all over his lap and dress shirt.
Your husband glanced at you, in disbelief himself at the messy scene, but utterly satisfied as his bright eyes twinkled. "Heh..."
You were awoken at three in the morning, and the first thing you noticed was that you were in Satoru's warm embrace.
His arms were wrapped around you securely, holding you close as if he were protecting you even in his sleep. You must have passed out afterwards, as all you recalled was the numbing exhaustion.
Yet you knew for certain that Satoru had cleaned you up, dressed you in your pajamas, and even placed a heat pad on your hips to soothe you.
(He remembered the one time you woke up with cramps right after a raunchy night before)
Your husband was a cheeky shit, but for you, he was willing to go extra miles. It was an overlooked fact sometimes due to how unserious he was, but each time he did and you were reminded of it, your heart always soared.
Looking up, you found his peaceful sleeping face, and not for the first time, you couldn’t help but marvel at how truly handsome he was. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you gently caressed his face.
"Hmm...?" he frowned adorably, and you almost giggled. But when he cracked his eyes open, you almost regretted it—oh yes, he is a light sleeper.
"Sweets...? Can't sleep...?" He turned to you, voice thick with sleepiness. "Anything wrong?"
"No, I'm just watching you." You smiled, poking his cheek. "Go back to sleep."
"Really? Nothing's amiss?" His hand gently slid to your belly, giving it a reassuring rub. "You have to tell me if anything’s not right..."
"Hush, I'm fine."
After making sure you were indeed fine, Satoru tightened his arms over you and pressed his eyes shut. You wrapped your arms around his back in response, feeling his steady warmth. Right in this moment, you were overwhelmed with this gentle, soft feeling— love, the kind he gave you so freely and candidly.
Your birthday had passed, but if there was one wish only he could fulfill, surely you could still ask him, right?
"Satoru..." you muttered, feeling the cool breeze of the air conditioner lulling you back to sleep. "Will you stay with me... forever?"
A smile curled on his lips at your question, his eyes still closed. "Silly girl, it's your bedtime, so why ask that?"
You thought he wouldn't answer it as he didn't say anything more. But right before you drift into deep sleep, he pressed a sweet kiss to the crown of your head, giving you his promise— one that felt truer than anything else he had said to you before.
"I will... so you must stay with me too, got it?"
gojo’s birthday during high school 🥹🤍
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !
- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!
credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!
image: emperor gojo | emperor naoya
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
“I accept the divorce.”
Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.
You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.
“My god... how can this be!?”
“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”
Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.
But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:
“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”
Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”
“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”
Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.
“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.
This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.
“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”
“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”
You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”
This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.
How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...
SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE
To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.
Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.
You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.
The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.
“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”
Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.
“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”
“Hmph.”
To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.
How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.
—and once, he thought he knew who you are…
. . .
Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.
You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.
Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—
“My princess, may I have this dance?”
Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.
Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”
Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.
“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.
How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?
And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”
Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.
. . .
Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.
What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.
YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.
Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.
But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.
“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”
Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”
Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.
You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”
This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?
Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.
“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”
That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.
“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.
It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.
When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?
"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."
You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.
It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.
You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.
The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.
. . .
"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"
You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.
"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."
You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.
"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."
Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"
As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.
And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.
...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.
The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.
Because if they really did... then...
You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.
You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.
You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.
Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.
"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"
Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.
And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.
SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE
He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.
Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.
A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.
But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.
"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"
Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.
"Emperor Satoru—"
"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"
A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"
Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."
That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.
There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.
"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."
No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"
Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.
"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—
What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.
“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”
“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.
He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”
“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”
You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.
After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.
"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.
You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.
His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”
“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”
He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.
"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"
Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"
A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."
"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."
"A favor...?"
"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"
Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.
"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"
His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.
And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—
"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"
He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."
With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.
Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.
The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.
However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.
Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.
Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.
You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.
Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.
Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.
Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?
I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.
This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?
Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?
Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.
Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!
You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.
Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.
No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.
You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.
And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.
He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.
Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D
If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.
And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.
Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?
You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.
So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D
Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!
You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .
Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.
However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.
. . .
"Your Majesty..."
For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought were in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.
"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.
A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.
"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.
The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.
The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.
"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."
To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.
You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.
Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.
If I can't be the empress here...
And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—
...I'll be one somewhere else.
It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?
Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.
It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...
Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.
Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—
"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.
"Shoko! What the heck?!"
Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.
Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.
"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"
"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.
"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."
Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?
The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?
"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.
"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."
She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.
When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.
You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.
“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”
Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”
You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?
“My queen, ah, there you are.”
Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.
You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.
It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.
What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?
"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."
You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."
He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how were things from his side.
"How do you find being the emperor?"
"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"
"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"
"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.
"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...
And beguile you.
His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."
He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.
Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.
But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—
"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"
Huh? What…?
That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—
“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.
“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”
Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.
“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.
How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?
Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”
He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.
His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.
One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.
You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.
And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—
“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”
“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”
It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.
"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."
You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.
"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"
Good riddance, you thought.
"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"
"I accept the divorce."
Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."
The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.
"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"
"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."
You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.
"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.
"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.
Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—
Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.
"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"
Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.
And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.
"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"
In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.
"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.
You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—
"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."
Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.
True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.
And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.
"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."
You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.
And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.
To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.
If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...
Today is the day.
Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.
Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.
Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.
With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.
This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.
"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."
The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.
Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."
You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—
But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:
"And here I present to you, your new empress!"
The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.
It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—
“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”
"I have something for you!"
You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.
"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.
He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.
He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.
"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"
A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—
"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.
It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...
"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.
"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"
This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.
"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."
"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"
"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."
Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.
Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.
"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."
But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.
You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.
"You have me now," you whispered in response.
Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.
And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.
"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.
You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.
"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."
As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.
Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.
He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.
This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.
"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.
"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"
Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.
Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—
"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.
"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."
His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."
Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.
It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...
"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"
You looked up to him. "You would..."
"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"
"Mhm..."
You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."
He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—
The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.
"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.
You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.
You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.
"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"
"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"
And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.
"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."
One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.
"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"
He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.
"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.
Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.
"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."
Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"
"You don't have to—"
"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."
And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.
"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.
You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"
And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.
Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—
"You're flawless, sweetheart."
2 MONTHS LATER
"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."
The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.
Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.
"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.
"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—
"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.
What?
Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!
She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!
Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.
"A baby girl, Your Majesty."
In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.
"You useless tramp."
Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.
He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.
And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.
How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.
"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."
"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"
You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.
And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.
. . .
"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"
You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.
With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"
He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."
Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.
"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"
"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."
"But—"
"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"
Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.
He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"
"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.
At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.
But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...
"Ugh..."
Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.
You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.
Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.
"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."
It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...
You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.
You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—
...until everything you had known turned into its axis once again.
Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:
"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."
"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."
"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"
"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"
You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.
. . .
. . .
Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?
ha ha . . . so, there will be a part 2 :)
is it a ten now? | gojo x reader.
snow crunched softly under your boots as you walked through the quiet streets, your gloved hand securely held in gojo’s. his fingers tightened around yours every few moments, as if to remind you that he was there. the city was alive with christmas decorations—twinkling lights, wreaths on every door, and shop windows full of warm, glowing displays. despite the bustle of the holiday season, being with gojo made it feel like the two of you existed in your own little snow globe.
“so,” he began, swinging your joined hands between you. “on a scale of one to ten, how much do you love christmas with me?”
you tilted your head, pretending to consider it. “hmm… probably like a six?”
he gasped, placing his free hand dramatically over his chest. “a six? a six? you wound me, truly.”
“what did you expect?” you said, trying to keep a straight face. “you keep trying to eat my snacks and ruin all the surprises. six is generous.”
he stopped walking, tugging you closer until you were standing chest-to-chest in the middle of the snowy sidewalk. he bent slightly, so his face was level with yours, his ridiculously bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “first of all, i only ate one of your cookies, and it was a quality check for your benefit. second, i’m the best surprise of all.”
you rolled your eyes. “modest as always, satoru.”
“you love it,” he said, grinning as he leaned closer.
you opened your mouth to retort, but he suddenly straightened and pointed ahead with an excited gasp. “look! a christmas market!”
before you could respond, he was pulling you along, practically skipping as he dragged you toward the row of small, wooden stalls glowing with warm light.
“you act like you’ve never seen one before,” you teased, laughing as he darted from booth to booth.
“it’s different when you’re with me,” he said over his shoulder, his enthusiasm contagious. “come on, i saw hot chocolate over there!”
you let him lead you to a stall where a friendly vendor handed you both steaming cups of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and candy canes. gojo insisted on feeding you a bite of the whipped cream, laughing when it ended up on your nose.
“you’re the messiest eater i’ve ever met,” you said, wiping your face with a napkin.
“and yet, you still keep me around,” he replied, winking as he took a sip of his own drink.
after exploring the market, gojo spotted a small photo booth tucked between two stalls. “oh, we have to take a picture,” he said, already pulling you toward it.
you squeezed into the tiny booth, laughing at how his long legs barely fit. as the countdown began, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your cheek, leaving you flustered in the first photo. in the next, he made a goofy face, pulling you into his antics until you were both laughing so hard that the final photo was just the two of you mid-giggle.
when the strip of photos printed, he held it up, grinning. “see? proof that you’re having the best christmas ever with me.”
you snatched the photos from him, tucking them into your pocket. “maybe it’s an eight now,” you admitted softly.
he smirked. “i’ll get it to a ten before the night’s over. just wait.”
as the two of you continued wandering through the snowy streets, his hand warm in yours and his laughter filling the air, you couldn’t help but think that he already had.
a/n: hope evb had a great christmas<3
APT. Gojo's version
"Do you do weddings?"
"Huh?"
"Like as the bride?"
...
You stared at Gojo, completely deadpanned expression etching onto your face. And with the followed silence Gojo started to get a bit nervous. His cheeks turning a bright red as you showed no reaction to his pickup line.
You liked making Gojo nervous.
Madam Gojo - G.S.
Synopsis. Gojo Satoru, the strongest clan leader in all of Japan - and the most dangerous, too. You, rejected by the elders, and totally not his future bride, right? Right?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, clan leader! Gojo, arranged marriage, Satoru is a little (very) INSANE and down bad, the elders are awful, oral (fem receiving), use of “madam”, unprotected, créampie, kníves, overstím, féral Satoru, heinous things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 4.9k
A/N. I need clan leader Gojo SO bad you guys don’t understand.
They say that the head of the Gojo clan is the one person who could burn down this entire world and get away with it, too.
The youngest of all the clan leaders - and the most infamous - a man who keeps his friends close, and his enemies even closer. Enough so that you’ve heard whispers of his cruelty at every nook and cranny of those stuffy social functions your family has dragged you to. And it was more than enough to paint a picture of such terrifying power.
Of a sharp blade and an even sharper mouth. Of an angelic figure that left no evidence, nor anyone to tell the tale - only the final, hauntingly beautiful image of cloudy white hair, and electric blue eyes.
Eyes that were currently locked with yours, and didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon. Dangerous. Magnetic. Twinkling with such odd amusement from across the long tatami room.
Gojo Satoru, the head of the Gojo clan - your future husband.
“Tch, the Kamo girl’s family had a much better reputation than this one.”
Ah, right. How could you forget?
You shift awkwardly on the mat, managing to rip your eyes over to the line of elders behind Gojo, whispering just loud enough that you’d hear - and, of course, remember once more that no, the marriage proposal hasn’t been approved just yet.
And considering those disapproving glares you’d been so warmly welcomed with, it seemed that they were well and fully intent on keeping it that way.
“I can assure you,” you fight to keep the polite smile plastered on your face, painful and slowly cracking with each passing second being interrogated. “My family is well-respected in the community.” Eyes snapping over to a silent Gojo, skin burning at his intensity. “Very well respected.”
“Come now. We’re just saying.” Another voice speaks up, strained and tinged with a venomous tone you knew didn’t bode well. “Your lineage isn’t exactly illustrious, is it?”
The emphasis on “illustrious” isn’t lost on you, and it’s so fucking dramatic than you think you could almost laugh. Apparently, a few of the elders think so, too - because they’re positively seething at the sight.
Muttering an icy, “Something funny, dear?”
“Nothing at all.” you bite back any insults, sifting around the contents of your untouched dinner - the last thing on your mind right now when it seemed like you were the main scrutiny tonight. “Absolutely nothing.”
“Such attitude!” That offended croak is met with murmured agreements and nods from the end of the room, “The madam of the Gojo household must be demure- I told the young master we should go with the Kamo girl.”
God, why did you agree to this again? Something about strengthening your family ties? You felt sorry for the poor soul who’d end up marrying Gojo, because no matter how much beauty or power he held, it certainly wouldn’t make up for this.
Scoffing, the words falling from your lips faster than you could register them. “Then why didn’t he?”
And this little question somehow seemed to have struck a nerve - multiple, in fact, as you watch in morbid fascination as the elders visibly bristle.
“B-because-” one sends a hasty glance at their stone-faced clan leader, flushing at his still-unwavering gaze on you. “You- It doesn’t matter. Someone like you isn’t suited to marry-”
“Right, because this clan is that great.”
You freeze. The elders freeze. It seems like everyone in the world freezes except for Gojo - who only raises his brow. Letting your words hang in the air like a foul stench, studying just how awfully you’re digging your grave deeper in this hellish marriage meeting.
Eventually, the elder closest to Gojo’s right mutters a painfully saccharine sweet, “I knew we shouldn’t have let the riff-raff participate.”
And oh it was like a dam burst open.
“-out of the thousands of girls, for someone like master-”
“The scandal, too- imagine letting the Gojo name fall this far-”
“Isn’t worthy. Can’t let the bloodline be carried by some whor-”
You’re on your feet before you realize it. Whirling at the elders head-on, and if looks could kill then all those old fossils would be six feet under and their graves a dance floor for you already.
Fists clenched, you spit, “If he’s so wonderful then you all can marry this oh-so-great bastard yourself-”
Oh. You’ve done it now.
You were fucked. You were so very, very fucked.
You don’t even bother to meet Gojo’s stare, instead wondering whether you’d be able to outrun the strongest clan leader alive. Sure, you could take those old toads but-
“Sit.”
Your heart leaps at the voice, the first time you’re hearing it since entering this room - deep, almost-melodic, and for a second you don’t even recognize who it came from. Not until Gojo’s flashing you a mirthful grin, blue yukata shifting as he moves to sit cross-legged, “Sit.”
Oh, God, you didn’t know of any torture methods one could do while sitting - but you didn’t doubt that Gojo was an expert in all of them.
And as your knees buckle, sinking ever-so-slowly to sit back down on the floor, Gojo tilts his head in confusion. Brows scrunching together as he gestures downwards.
“On your…lap?” You question, as if the answer wasn’t glaringly obvious.
The only response you get is a careless nod, Gojo spreading his knees further as if to prove his point. No care or concern as he plows on, “If you’d like, of course.”
It’s a silent staredown - you, and him - and the elders watching jaw-dropped, of course. None of you have ever known the young master to let anyone get this close - let alone give them a decision on, well, anything.
.
A weighty beat passes. One. Two.
He wins.
And you find yourself walking unsteadily towards Gojo’s imposing figure, all eyes on you as you plop down unceremoniously in his waiting lap. Warm - and it catches you off guard. Gaze flickering over his broad shoulder to look at the aghast faces behind you. Tension crackling in the air as they wonder the same thing as you at this very moment - just what type of torture method is this?
“Interesting…I need this one.” You blink up in confusion, heart racing and oh- shit, when did he get so close? But Gojo’s chest only rumbles with laughter. Circling his long fingers around your waist, pulling you flush against his sculpted chest, “As the new madam of the Gojo household.”
What?
The elders behind let out stifled gasps, as bewildered as you were. And you swear you saw one faint, though, you don’t get to take a close look, because Gojo’s gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head up at his pretty face.
“Wan’ me to kill them?”
“Kill- why?” you sputter - both from his idea and the heat of his proximity.
“Why not?” He looks at you through his long lashes, so deceivingly innocent that it makes your head spin. Tone so light, as if he was talking about something trivial like the weather. “An early wedding gift, maybe?” And he sounded like he was joking - you wished he was joking. But you knew better.
So you swallow thickly, “N-no…thank you.”
At this, Gojo’s eyes twinkle. “Yeah, real interesting.” he coos, voice so uncharacteristically playful. And his lips are so close - too close. Running a thumb along your bottom lip, “Gorgeous, too. Tell me, pretty, what do you think of ruling over this trash?”
And you could feel every eye on you as you mull over the question. Weighty. Scrutinizing - except for Gojo who seemed like he was hanging onto your every word.
Hell, might as well give ‘em a few heart attacks right?
Words that never come - because your body moves before your mind. And you’ve got one hand gripping his expensive Yukata, the other scrambling for his broad shoulders. Softening the blow as you crash your lips onto his.
Soft - it’s the first thing you register. Followed very shortly by the taste of those cheap lollipops from those local convenience stores you loved - strawberry, you think.
But you don’t get to confirm, because the kiss is over as soon as it happens.
Gojo’s pulling away with a strange light in his eyes, lips flushed a pretty pink, yukata dangling off his shoulder already. You have to train your eyes away from the milky skin, and over to the elders. Yeah, one really had fainted - three, now, actually.
And only one of them is brave enough to pipe up a rapid, “You- how dare you dirty-”
Thud!
It all happens so fast you’re not sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. In a split second, there’s a long dagger pulled out from his yukata, embedded deep into the tatami mat - not even an inch away from the elder who’d opened his mouth.
“Out.”
It’s so abrupt that for a second, you think Gojo’s talking to you, voice soft, and so so eerie. It sends shivers down your spine as you raise your eyes to look at his glare at the frozen crowd behind him.
Eyes wide, aura menacing - a grin gracing his features, absolutely nothing like the one he’d sent you - it was something so dangerous and cold. The temperature in the room dropping about ten degrees as he mutters, “I won’t say it twice.”
And immediately, it’s chaos. Each one stumbling over the other to run out the sliding doors first, none of them daring to look you in the eyes now.
“O-of course, master.” the leader, seemingly, chokes out. One foot out the room already, “I’ll um- check that the servants are doing their work-”
“No. You all will stand outside.” Gojo murmurs, not even bothering to look at them. Instead, cupping your face closer towards his, “And close the door.”
That door could not have been shut faster, ringing in the tense silence. And suddenly you’re too-aware of the audience outside. Too-aware of being left alone with…your future husband? And the way he was looking down at you with something so dark in his eyes.
“So…” he runs his nose down your neck, breathing in your scent. “If you don’t want me to kill those bastards…what else must I gift you, my wife?”
“Like what?” You gulp, back arching involuntarily into him.
Gojo laughs at the reaction, teeth ghosting over your racing pulse. “An estate?” Dancing ever-so-slowly, up your jaw, “All the cars you could want?” He blows gently in your ear, chuckling as you yelp in surprise. “Maybe jewelry?” Kissing the tips of your ears, “You’d look gorgeous in blue. And the Zenin clan has the perfect necklaces I can…convince them to send over.” He pulls away, taking you in entirely, “Or maybe-” Lips now ghosting yours. “-something else?”
And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him.
You don’t know who leans in first, just that Gojo’s lips were so sweet on yours. So addictive. Palms cradling your face so softly, while his lips were anything but.
“Open your mouth, pretty.” he pants into your lips. “Kiss your husband properly, now.”
Shit, you barely even realize the way you’re listening to every single word he says. Jaw falling slack to let him lick at the seam of your lips. Such a messy clash of teeth and spit and him - so hot and starved. Like he couldn’t get enough with the way he hastily moves to press wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw.
“Satoru-” you gasp, and he nips lightly at your bottom lip once you immediately shut yourself up because shit, you’re getting ahead of yourself. Calling the clan leader Gojo by his first name? Hell, you’ll see the gates of heaven before you see an altar.
But Gojo himself seems to think the complete opposite. “Don’t get all shy now.” he pries away the hand covering your mouth. “Call me ‘Toru’.”
You stare at him, wide-eyed, trying to will yourself to say this little nickname.
Too slow, apparently. Because his hands are suddenly everywhere - on your breasts, your hips, giving your ass a slow squeeze. “T-Toru-” you squeal.
Gojo’s mouth drops into a soft oh! Immediately surging forward as if to claim your lips again - stopping mere millimeters from your lips with a pained grunt. Like it killed him to stay away.
“See? Jus’ like that.” he angles your head just right, before spitting, once. Twice. Right into your pretty mouth. “N’ now you’re mine.”
And fuck if Gojo wasn’t going to prove it.
He’s laying you down on the mat, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Mine to wed. Mine to carry my legacy.” Thumb running over your hardened nipples as he urgently unbuckles your bra, throwing it behind god-knows-where. “Mine to-” Biting down, ever-so-lightly on your nipple, “-worship.” Hands dipping lower, and lower - just barely teasing the hem of your drenched panties. “Mine to ruin.”
You don’t know what you’re reeling more from - maybe from those words, which you’re sure he said loud enough for the elders outside to hear.
Maybe from the way he’s sliding a finger underneath your panties, sliding it up and down your puffy folds. Making you arch into him like such a slut as he pools your sweet sweet juices on his fingertips, popping them into his mouth with a low groan.
“Oh. Fuck. Oh, fuck-” Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head. Not wasting a second before ripping off your flimsy panties, tucking them away into the waistband of his yukata. “Sweeter than I imagined.”
“S-so filthy-” you mewl, as he spreads your shaky thighs. Lips wobbling pathetically at how he’s admiring your glistening cunt. “Toru, no one’s ever…”
At this, his eyes are back on yours now. Half-lidded, pupil’s blown - and you don’t think you’ve ever even heard of the leader of the Gojo clan being so out of it, let alone see it first-hand. His voice strained as he breathes out a barely audible, “Shit- really? So then…” He’s moving to lick lewd little circles on your inner thigh, “...your husband’s gotta make this memorable, right?”
Gojo doesn’t give the time to even think about answering - he doesn’t trust that he has the fucking sanity to wait that long. Because you’re so pretty splayed out like this for him. Your moans too sweet. Your cunt too tempting. Too his.
So, really, you can’t blame him when he’s plunging nose-deep into your quivering pussy, licking one, long stripe right up your swollen folds. And fuck the cute lil’ whines escaping your lips are so addictive that Gojo just can’t help but do it again. And again. And again and-
“O-oh my god, ngh- feels too good-” you card your fingers through his soft locks - something that would usually result in a lost hand or two. But for you - anything, for you. “More, Toru.”
Shit, if Gojo thought he’d lost his sanity before then he definitely wasn’t ready for this.
“So needy.” he’s chuckling into your glistening folds. One hand throwing your legs over his shoulders, the other thumbing over your needy clit. “So perfect. Can’t believe no one’s ever hah- eaten out this pretty cunt before.”
Immediately, he’s squeezing his hot tongue past your folds. And it’s all you can do to buck your hips up so sluttily when he licks at your sloppy entrance. Your throbbing clit. Anywhere and everywhere Gojo could reach.
“Hngh- yes yes yes, too good.”
“Yeah? Ya like this?” He moves his fingers down from your already-ravaged clit, circling your sopping wet hole. “Ya like making such a mess on m’tongue?”
“W-wha-” The words get caught in your throat as you whirl down at the sight below you - Gojo. Gojo, with strands of white hair sticking to his forehead, eyes so glassy. Gojo, tongue lapping at your sweet juices, looking like he wanted to devour you with his eyes, as much as his mouth.
At your reaction, he grins, furrowing his brow in mock-concern, “What’s wrong, pretty? Can’t talk?” Bullying his long fingers past that first feeble ring of resistance, massaging your plushy walls. “N’ you were so hah- feisty earlier. Thought my new mmpf- wife would be mouthy?”
You give his hair a warning tug, whispering, “Sh-shut up-” But it comes out more breathless than you intended.
Gojo notices, of course he does. Because he’s letting out a whiny, “Sh-shut up.” Wrapping his pretty pink lips around your pulsing clit, “As you wish, madam Gojo.”
You hear a dull thud from outside, but you can’t even think about turning your head to look because Gojo’s drinking you in like a man possessed. Pumping his fingers in and out, expertly hitting that one spot with each and every thrust. Looking nothing like an infamous clan-leader and every bit on cloud nine as he rolls his tongue over your clit. Over and over and-
“P-please ah- oh-” you squirm.
“Move your hips like that. Yeah- jus’ like that, pretty- fuck-” The most powerful man in the country letting himself be angled and pulled as you pleased, grunting each time you drag your pussy all over his mouth. Fingers frenzied on your clit - sloppy. Fast.
But it still wasn’t enough for Gojo - he thinks it’ll probably never be. But that’s fine - the two of you have until the wedding night to perfect it, right?
So he’s looping a big arm around one leg, pulling your snug cunt impossibly closer, reaching over to toy with your pretty clit. And then he’s nose-deep in your sloppy entrance, preparing you for what was to come - fucking you both on his tongue and his fingers.
Jaw grinding deeper, stretching you out, thrusting in and out in and out in and-
“Fuck fuck fuck- Toru m’so…”
“Close?” he slurs into your cunt, grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Fingers just digging into your hips, sure to leave pretty little marks for him to admire later - and to give a message to those old toads outside. “Cum f’me. Shit- cum f’me, pretty.”
Gojo realizes it before you when you’re finally cumming - because your gummy walls are squeezing around him so tight that it’s almost difficult fuck you through your high the way he wants.
You’re shaking. Blood roaring in your ears, vision spotty. Crying out a hoarse, “Fuck fuck fuck- oh my god, Toru-” Barely even realizing the way you’re rocking your hips so hard into his hot mouth.
And Gojo keeps going.
Even when you’re blinking your vision back, big fat tears pricking your eyes at the sheer overstimulation. Even when white-hot electricity sparks behind your eyes each flick of his tongue. Still toying with your poor clit, tonguefucking you so messily.
“Toru, s’too- ngh- much- fuck.” You can barely get the words out, jolting. Wondering how the fuck his mouth wasn’t tired, yet - how his fingers weren’t cramping up, tongue still as greedy as ever. “C-can’t-”
“You can. You will.” he’s murmuring into your cunt. Running his mouth now, like he was drunk off your pussy. Words as fast and ragged as his tongue. “C’mon, faster. Harder. Fuck-” you flinch as he spits out little profanities into your messy cunt. “Fuckin use me. Use me like the good lil’ wife you are.”
“Oh- shit.” you whine. Clawing at the mats, Gojo’s hair, his shoulders - just anything to cope with the sheer stimulation as he made out with your pussy like a mad man. “Wait- cum- m’gonna…”
You’re cumming and cumming all over again. So hard, even as you grind your hips deeper into Gojo’s mouth. Riding out your orgasm on his pretty face, so painfully good.
And only then is he finally pulling away. Absolutely wrecked, eyes miles away already, mouth glistening with your slick. Going all the way down his jawline, and onto the tatami mat in a deafening drip! drip! drip!
“Oh.” he runs his tongue along his wet lips. “Who made you cum like this?”
A smile slowly splits across his face as you manage out a little, “Y-you, Toru…”
“That’s fuckin’ right. Me.” Hypnotized by the heavenly sight of you all fucked-out and twitching with the aftershock. Marveling down at his hand - glossy, and covered with your slick, “N’ m’gonna love you.”
And, well, a good husband always shares, right?
Because Gojo’s shoving his fingers past your kiss-bitten lips, pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way he knew would have your eyes watering, gagging around him so prettily. Eyes widening at the feeling of something so hard and hot between your legs.
“C’mon, lil’ madam. Lick them clean f’me, will you?”
You’re gasping, “Mmpf- Toru-” Eyes flitting between a smug Gojo and the hand currently untying his robe. So teasing with the way he’s giving you just a flash of those boxers before oh-
Shit.
You thought that he’d be big - it was expected, in fact. But this was fucking ridiculous.
All sculpted curves and dips of his body, faint scars painting his milky skin - stories he’d tell you about later, you think. A fucking masterpiece. All the way down, down, down to where his throbbing cock was leaking all over those tufts of white at his toned pelvis.
Rock-hard, and so so angry. Prominent veins running along the side, flushed a shade of pretty pink that glistened with precum in the dim lighting. So intimidatingly long that it already had you worrying for your poor cervix, and thick enough that it had your thighs pressing mindlessly together.
Something that Gojo obviously didn’t appreciate.
“Now now.” he tuts, pulling back his fingers to spread apart your thighs with ease. So far apart that it burned. “I need these legs open, pretty. I like the view, y’see.”
And he made it quite obvious, too. Spreading your swollen folds so shamefully apart with his thumb - wet with your split. All the blood rushing to his cock at the way you flinch in embarrassment, at the feeling of being so used. Cute.
“Shhh, relax.” Gojo hums. Spreading the spit and slick lazily along your cunt with his fat head, purposely letting it smear all over your thighs. “M’gonna make this feel so good for you.”
And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a merciless man - for everyone.
Except maybe his cute lil’ wife.
Because, yes, he’s suddenly splitting you apart on his massive cock. Yes, he’s holding your poor hips still, head dropping into the crook of your neck as he sinks in inch by fucking inch.
But oh God does he have to hold back from fucking your tight cunt exactly the way he wants. The stretch too sinful, your pussy too heavenly.
Instead he’s kissing away the single tear rolling down your cheek, muttering, “Too big? Aww, f-fuck, pretty. You needa breathe-.” Rich, coming from him considering that Gojo doesn’t know if he was breathing right now. Too caught up in the way he’s rolling your swollen clit between his fingers, gasping into your open mouth, “Trust me. M’gonna make it f-feel hah- good. So fucking good.”
“F-fuck-” Your head is spinning. And you can only give him such delirious little nods as Gojo starts to push in quick, lazy little grinds of his hips just to squeeze inside your gummy walls. Past that first, tight ring of resistance.
“S’too big-” you squeal, nails raking down his back. “A-are you all the way in- yet?”
“Nope.” he’s popping the p, so unfairly smug. “Not even halfway in.” Drinking in all your cute lil’ sobs as he snakes a hand up to draw an invisible line across your stomach. “But you b-better be prepared, wifey. Because this-” Pressing down, hard. “-is where I’ll be.”
You didn’t know who wanted that to become a reality more - Gojo or you.
Especially with the way your tight cunt is sucking him up so good, and shit for all Gojo’s reputation, he feels like he could’ve cum right then and there.
“Shit- so fucking tight. God- you’re gonna make me lose my mind.” words so strained. So dangerous. He kisses down your neck, biting right above your racing pulse. “How do you want it? Like you’re my hah- wife- or my lil’ slut?”
A trick question, you think - as much as you could when you’re this cockdrunk, at least.
Locking eyes down at the way your cunt was bulging so obscenely around his cock, clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in in in- Unstopping. Relentless. Mewling a little, “L-like I’m your…wife.”
“Louder.”
“Like I’m your wife.”
Several things happen at once - that faint muttering suddenly increases tenfold, and maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed the few gasps. Gojo, however, does hear.
It only takes an irritated growl and a split-second flash of metal for a second dagger to be struck deep into the thin wooden panel of the door - unfortunately for whoever just so happened to be on the other side.
“That’s right. My wife.” And then he’s bottoming out - heavy balls smacking your ass, leaky tip nudging your poor cervix, letting you mark him up all you want as he rocks his hips faster into yours. “And you- ah- you realize they’re beneath you, right?” he’s stroking where he can feel himself bulging inside you. “That my lil’ wife just has to say the word n’ I’ll ngh- take ‘em all out?”
You can only sob at the pressure, because his words are so soft but he’s fucking you so mean. Sounding like he was losing his sanity with each time your heavenly walls milked him.
“I’ll kill ‘em- kill ‘em all-” he’s gritting out. “Hell, I’ll take down the r-rest of those clans ah- too if it pleases you.” Fingers getting so erratic on your clit, angling his hips just right to try and find-
“Hngh- f-fuck, Toru- there-”
That.
So sloppy with the way he’s alternating between hitting that one spot and just abusing your cervix. Bruising - like he wanted to mark you everywhere n’ show it off, too. Biting down your neck, whispering into the skin, “Anything for you, madam.”
Rocking his hips harder, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the lewd little pool of slick and split forming on the mat below. Can’t even think to bring himself to be disgusted.
“Feels good?” he’s drinking in your adorable sobs, “S’what you imagined?”
You’re torn between running away and fucking your hips up so bruisingly into his, hells digging into the mat as you push and pull away. “Yes. Feels- ah- ngh-” And for all your mouthiness earlier, you can’t even form coherent sentences right now - something that makes Gojo balls squeeze so painfully.
Something that has him wrapping his arms around your legging, dragging you like some ragdoll back to him. Rocking his hips so bruisingly deeper and deeper as he babbles.
“Gonna make you c-cum. So hard.” He’s fucking you harder into the mat. Faster. Sloppier. “Gonna ngh- make you my beautiful bride.” Bouncing you on his painfully hard cock like he was claiming you from the inside - to leave marks for everyone in the clan to know. His balls on your ass, your nails down his shoulders, lips on your neck leaving little bites. “Gonna make you mine, pretty. And everyone else s’gonna know.”
And Gojo can tell when you’re close because he’s learned that you have a habit of squeezing him to insanity when you are.
“Close?” At your delirious nod he’s giving you a blinding grin, “How cute. Why don’t you hah- cum f’me like the good lil’ wife you are, hm?”
Cum for him you do - thighs shaking, body jolting. So hard and violent that you’re covering him in all your sweet sweet juices.
And he can only watch - awe-struck - as your pretty pussy squirts all over his angry cock glistening, and just drenched with your slick now. Beads of it getting all over his burning abs, trickling down every dip and curve as he uses your quivering pussy harder and harder-
“God, you’re so good f’me. Look how much you came.” Giving a final, harsh thrust. “So perfect f’me.”
So fucking smug as he finally cums as well. Letting out a low, muffled moan into your neck as he fills your poor pussy with rope after rope of seed, painting your walls such a sinful white. All the way until he was sure you were bloated with his cum, until he could feel it dribbling down the side. Looking down to confirm and- ah, sure enough, it was such a heavenly sight - thick globs drenching your clothes below. Spreading in a pool as his hips push deeper and deeper.
Like it hurt to stop. Like it hurt to even think of tearing his eyes away from you.
But, alas, this old meeting room could only take so much, and Gojo thinks you’ll enjoy his - your - bedroom much better for round two.
Which is how the elders outside found the door kicked open not too long after. Blinking up in shock at the tall figure of the Gojo clan leader at the frame holding you. Tired and limp in a princess carry, all bundled up your yukata and one of his outer robes.
And they can only avert their eyes, faces burning at the hazy expression on your face, hair so unsubtly messy, bare legs twitching ever-so-slightly from where they were just peeking out from where the fabric had bunched up. Sinful. Desecrated. And evidently his.
“Clean that room up.”
Gojo’s stern command snaps them all out of their reverie.
But before they could all run to do so, he’s plowing on, unapologetic and low. “Oh, and bow down-” chuckling lightly as they scramble to their knees before him - and your barely-lucid figure. “-to the new madam of the Gojo household.
A/N. On my period I’m gonna cry.
Plagiarism not authorized.
ah it’s finally here. the fushigojo shibuya arc warnings: just a dash of angst, pregnancy, jjk manga spoilers
then.
megumi’s been in his room since you’d returned from the hospital. which was, at this point, six hours ago.
you and gojo had been sitting on the floor outside his bedroom door for five.
“what do we say to him?” you ask, resting your head on your husband’s shoulder. “what can we do to make this a little bit better?”
“i don’t know,” he answers quietly, taking your hand into both of his. “there’s…no parenting book or article about how to comfort your kid after his sister’s been cursed.”
you squeeze your eyes shut, exhaling through the deep ache in your chest. it’d been difficult to see her like that. your tsumiki, sweet, kind, and caring, laying lifeless in that bed.
“at the hospital he told me they’d had a fight the day before. that he’d said something mean. it was the last thing he said to her.”
“tsumiki wouldn’t hold it against him,” gojo says. “she knows what he’s like. knows it was probably from a place of care.”
it’d also been hard to see megumi sitting at her bedside, face stony as he clutched his sister's hand. “doesn’t mean he feels any less awful about it.”
“yeah,” gojo sighs, letting his head fall back against the door. you suppose he might know what that’s like.
“what do we do, satoru?” you ask, tears brimming your eyes. “we still don’t know how—”
“hey, it’s okay.” it comes out a little unsteady, as he himself isn't convinced of it, but he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as the last few hours finally catch up to you. you’re exhausted, distraught, and hurting. “we can figure that out tomorrow, but for now we’ve gotta focus on him.”
all you can manage is a small nod as he wipes the tears from your cheeks and helps you up, the two of you pushing open the door.
megumi's sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, shoulders trembling slightly. he doesn't have to lift his head for the both of you to know his cheeks are stained with tears.
something painful grips your heart at the realization that you've never seen him cry before. not when he was 6 and you took him to the doctor to get his first shot. not when he was 8 and fell out of the tree at the park across from your apartment and broke his arm. not when he was 11 and lost his first science fair.
but his sorrow flows freely now, proof of a sibling who was well-loved and sorely missed. you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, pulling him into a hug and letting his tears soak your shirt.
now.
you're not sure how to feel as you stare at those two pink lines.
for the most part, you're elated. because this is good...right? a baby was good news. it'd relieve some of the pressure the two of you had been under from the gojo clan, which was a plus.
but you'd be lying if you said you didn't have...a feeling. you tap the test against the palm of your hand, lips pursed as you reach for your phone to call gojo.
but the front door opens before you can tap his contact, and megumi walks in.
“hey!” you grin, fumbling to hide the test behind your back. “what are you doing here?”
megumi stares at you in that awfully analytical way he’d picked up from your husband. “gojo sent me to find you.”
your smile quickly disappears. “why?”
“he said something’s happening in shibuya. i think he might need help.” then, after a moment, “what are you holding?”
you can’t lie to megumi, you’ve never been able to. so you sigh, pulling the test from behind your back. “i think i’m pregnant.”
his brows raise in surprise, but he quickly smooths his expression over. “does he know?”
“no, i just found out,” you tell him, grabbing your coat. “do you think he’ll be excited? can you act surprised when i tell him? so he thinks he’s the first—”
“you shouldn’t come.”
it’s your turn to stare at him in disbelief. “you just said that you think he needs help—”
megumi grimaces and tries again. “but with your condition—”
“get in the car, megumi,” you snap, grabbing your keys. “we’re going to shibuya.”
--
shibuya is a disaster.
it's frantic, messy. you're overwhelmed. you need to throw up. you can't find gojo.
you're holding onto megumi as to not lose track of him, gripping the sleeve of his shirt as you run around the station looking for that telltale shock of white hair.
and when you finally see it, he's not alone.
it all comes back in flashes, once treasured memories that only bring pain as you stare at the man you thought was dead. "is that—”
megumi's yelling, but gojo doesn't seem to hear him. he's frozen in place, staring at the man who was once his best friend.
that's when it happens. it snaps gojo out of his state of shock, and you can only look on in horror as he's gripped by something you'd only read about in books but never seen yourself.
you're fighting to pull air into your lungs now. you know what's happening. you're stumbling forward, reaching for him, but megumi grabs you around the waist and hauls you backwards.
"no! satoru!"
it's after his name is ripped from your chest that he sees you. it hurts, the naked fear in his eyes when he looks at you and megumi and shouts something you can't hear over the roar in your ears. you desperately pull at the threads of your cursed energy, the shadows around you swirling in response as if they too are reaching for him.
but you're too late.
you're too stunned to speak, clinging to megumi as he drags you back and away.
he doesn't stop until the two of you into the shadows of a secluded corner, both of you slumping against the wall. megumi says your name a few times, but you can't hear him over the train of thoughts racing through your head.
it's when he finally croaks, "mom," shaking you, that you look up into the concerned face of your megumi. the only person you have left. "you need to go. if...if that was their plan all along, then chances are you're in danger too."
you shake your head. "i'm not leaving you here."
"i can't lose you," he whispers, and your heart breaks when the tears he's been holding back form in the corners of his eyes. "please."
he pulls you into a tight embrace, his hands desperately gripping the back of your shirt as he lets you lean into him.
"it's going to be okay. we're going to be okay," you tell him, and though he nods against your shoulder, you know he's just as unsure as you are.
-
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20 | she/they | fandoms: obey me!, Yandere simulator, Doki Doki Literature Club, etc.
239 posts