Grapesandraisins - Classy Ho

i’m not saying i’m better than you…. but my url has no dashes and i’m a natural brunette 

Knight of Roses - G.S.

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

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

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

Word count. 12.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

Oh. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he almost felt…sad about it. Weird. 

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo visited you the next day, too. 

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

Every day.

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

And it showed - oh, how it showed. 

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

He considered himself exceedingly humble, too, of course. 

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

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

“Snitch”

“Harlot.”

“Knave.”

“Hobgoblin.”

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

Well, was. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru- wait.”

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

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

But no, that was not his place. 

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

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

“That’s not what I mean.” Stubborn.

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

“Satoru.”

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

And that left you with…him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He scoffs, “Nice- or useful?”

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

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

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

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

“There you are, your highnesses!” 

Satoru. 

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

Thud!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him? 

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

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

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

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

He rolls his summer blue eyes, “Proudly.”

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

Gasping in faux shock, “Most salacious indeed!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gojo. Gojo. 

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

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

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

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

You had a feeling it would be your favorite one.  

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

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

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

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

Sneaky princess. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck, had it really been days since already?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahem.”

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

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

Schwing–!

“Toru- no.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, sir.”

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

Naoya looks up, death in his eyes.

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

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

It takes a beat. One. Two. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let me.”

Your brows raise, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What? 

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

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

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

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

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

Stood stock still.

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

His jaw clenches, eyes harrowing. “You.” 

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

“Please.” 

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

“The same hand.”

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

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

The other man breathes, “Repent…”

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

CRUNCH!

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

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

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

Repentance. 

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

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

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

.

.

.

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

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

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

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

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

“Which is precisely why I’m worried.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Manners. Posture. Eye contact. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As if you deserve any bett-”

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

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

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

“What are you even talking about?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

“Oh.” 

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

So you do.

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

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

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

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

Nothing else mattered. 

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

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

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

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

“Satoru-!”

It wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

“May I have this dance, my princess?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You breathe out, “Satoru…”

“-and maybe in another life-”

“Maybe in this one.”

Soft hands rover their way onto the sides of your arms, and Gojo shakes you feebly as if to snap you out of this hypnosis and urge you to run. Eyes wide, yearning. “I have always been yours, body and soul.”

You always have wondered whether there was a method to shut Gojo Satoru up. And, right now, you think you may have found the perfect answer. 

Because his entire towering figure just melts into your touch the very second you press your lips onto Gojo’s plump ones. Soft. Velvety. 

His nostrils flare through a breathy sigh when you tilt your head mere sultry degrees to deepen the kiss. You were addicted to the honey-coated taste of him, the flat drag of his scratchy tastebuds rolling over your loosening maw. 

“Ngh- my princess…” He’s puncturing your kisses with kiss after sloppy kiss, heavy hands wrapping around your body to wrangle you flush against his hardened ones. And you could count every glissade of his washboard abs through that thin poet’s blouse, “I love you.”

You’re not sure if it’s a fragment of your imagination, or- it’s not. 

Gojo manhandles you - and himself - to sit on the opulent gazebo bench with you plopped into his manspread lap, without breaking the kiss for a split-second. Because it hurt to part from your pretty, candied lips, to let those slippery strings of saliva break in the clouded air between you two.

Even if it was to purr out—

“I love you I love you I love you-” The straight edges of his pearly white teeth sinking into your lower lip, groaning from the back of his throat. And your jittery legs shift needily on his warm, meaty thighs, “-I love you.”

“Satoru—” Just about the only thing that you can say right about now, your tone resounds in Gojo’s ears and makes him grunt. Your fingers tangle into his cushy locks, “T-touch me.”

He snickers, one hand clawing onto the crown of your sweat-dampened scalp and wrenching your face away until you’re huffing and puffing cutely for more. “Mmm, how about we use those princess-y manners of yours, hm?”

“Please-”

“Louder.”

“Please.”

“Harlot.” Gojo slides in a looong few digits past those impossibly endless skirts of yours, making your thighs dampen with treacly webs of needy slick. Letting those doughy fingerpads fringe over the covered mound of your pussy, just the very edges. “That was my f-first kiss, y’know?”

He had been hopelessly saving it for you, after all. 

Your eyes roll all the way to the back of your weighted lids as soon as he teases you, mewling. “Was mine too, so we’re even-” Your hips shift in a lazy back n’ forth on top of his heated core, “-just- just want you to touch me.”

“I dunno…” Gojo drawls - drunken. And you feel the edges of his kiss-bitten lips warp around the very tip of your plummy tongue to suck on like his favorite gummy candy, “Wanna kiss my princess just a lil’ bit more.”

Panting, “K-kiss?”

“Mhm.” 

Your eyes shutter in a heady blink, oh-so-cutely ready to crash back into a filthy, filthy French kiss once more, Gojo pulls away-

A noise of disappointment fresh on your lips and just about to spill out, before he lifts you up easily with only a single beefy hand underneath your body. Splaying you out on the sprawling wooden table right beside you, your back hits the ice-cold surface and makes you gasp into the crisp night air.

The lecherous sound of it almost as loud as the sudden clack! of Gojo’s knees collapsing down onto the floor. Your face contorts into a wince because surely it sent a stinging pain up his legs?

“M’quite used to being on my knees for you, my princess.”

But he didn’t seem to care - didn’t even seem to notice when he was much more enamored with the heavenly sight down there.

“These lips-” He smears away your lacy layers upon layers, budging up to nuzzle the soft skin of your inner thighs. And shit- the filmy glaze over his eyes told you that Gojo doesn’t even realize the way his bubblegum pink tongue lolls out over the splotchy spatters of your juices. “-were tellin’ me they feel a little…left out.”

Your mouth waters with a syrupy lamination of saliva as soon as his murked breath strikes your cunt. And the drag of his rumbling bass is so delicious – you couldn’t help but imagine just how it would feel on you.

“Just- just get it on with it-” you’re hissing, fingers latching onto a few thick locks of ivory to drudge him ever-closer. 

“Impatient.”

As if Gojo himself wasn’t impatient. 

As if he wasn’t just leaking out thick wads of drool from the parted sides of his twisted grin at just the thought of tasting you. Sliding the pointed tip of his button nose languidly up the crevice of your puffed-up slit, he breathes you in and feels his cock twitch-

“Oh, princess.” Gojo can’t move, he can’t breathe if it wasn’t around your needy cunt right now. He’s ignoring those shooting bites of pain up the sides of his arm to tug on your useless garments.

Pulling- shit, he always did fucking hate how many layers you royalty had to wear. 

Pulling and pulling until the slow trawl of your undergarments by his nimble fingers wasn’t enough, and he just had to lunge his cottony head over to plummet his pearly whites into your panties and rip—!

A proper, gaping hole where your teary pussy was- and you looked even more gorgeous down there than he could’ve imagined.

Gojo’s face was blank, eyes wide and locked right at your geysering orifice like a man starved. For eons it felt like, until you were bucking up with pure need.

You’re humming in concern, struggling up onto your elbows to stare down at him. “Sa…Toru?”

And at your pretty voice, Gojo twitches. He gasps - full-bodied, like you’d just sent a zillion volts of shock down his sloped spine just by speaking to him. And he was well and fully intent on acting on it-

“Princess…princess princess princess—” Leaking from between his lips like he couldn’t stop, he hits the cute target of your cunt instantaneously with a fat thud of spittle, one. Two. Three, until your entrance was overflooding. He’s drawling the plummy end of his spit-glossed maw across your folds, “Oh, my princess. Just look at you.”

You feel his mess drool off the side of your plumpened pussylips and smear all across your peaked clit with only a simple touch of Gojo’s round-ended thumb. 

Just down-right filthy when he crashes forward to slot the curvaceous nub of his sweltering hot tongue over the brim of your hole. Drawing all over that snug orifice with slow patterns round n’ round-

“Toru–!” It’s the only thing you know at this point. “Toru.”

“Whaaat? Jealous, my princess?” The words clang in your head- and the realization hits you at the same moment Gojo’s thickly viscous swab of spit does on your own tongue. A soft nudge at your slackened chin urging you to swallow-

And he can’t waste a second, can’t spend even a mere moment away from his favorite spot between your legs. Because now that Gojo got a taste, he wants alllll of it.

Stumbling back down in haste to plant so many uncountable smooches on your bawling pussy folds. Skimming his tastebuds just along your quivering hole.

“Shit- shiiiit–” When you’d heard court ladies giggling about this, you didn’t think it would feel this good. Or maybe that’s just because it was Gojo stuffing himself impossibly deeper between your legs. “M-more, Toru–”

Your voice was cracking just as much as his fucking sanity was. 

Trilling out into frenzied shrills when Gojo swerves his eager thumb to pry open your gluey folds even further and give your fattened clit a flick!

You swear you feel Gojo depart his jaw with a giggle when your hips are bucking up pliably off the splintered table and into the bustling hot cavern of his mouth. More. “Easy there, your royal highness-”

“D-don’t call me that–” You’re whimpering, fingers tugging on Gojo’s bangs in some form of retaliation. But, of course it backfires on you just as soon as the force makes your knight moan.

“Wasn’t calling you that.” Gojo rolls his eyes, and your heart races in anticipation when the pointed edge of his chin strikes the drowned ends of your cunt. Lathering his pretty features in all the collective beads of slick raining fountaining out of you. His summer blue eyes flick downwards - and you can’t help but follow. “Was talking to her. Isn’t that right?”

Fuck.

You were fucked. 

And you were losing your mind when Gojo drags you roughly towards the edge of the table with only an ounce of his strength. Mouth making out greedily, heels digging into the fleshy mounds of his back, you can only sob and beg for more more more-

“S’fuckin’ chattier than my girl.” He’s nodding along with every saturated squelch after squelch! resonating in his eardrums - as if it was a full-on conversation with your noisy pussy. “Let’s hope that fiancé of yours doesn’t hah- f-fucking hear.”

But Gojo was acting like he wanted him to.

“Hope the- the king doesn’t find his princess bein’ eaten out by- ngh- a knight.” Barrelling long, slender inches of his index and pointer past your tight ring of mushy muscle. 

Your head throws back when he digs into the velvety depths of your pussy with just a single quirk-

“O-oh my god, Satoru–” You’re gasping in the flowery night air, tummy aching with every pump deeper because he was just so close to where you wanted him. “More- j-just a bit more.”

And yet, he acts like he doesn’t even hear you right now. 

Cupping over one massive palm over his ear and drifting ever-closer, “Wha’s that? C-can’t hear ya, girl- ngh ya gotta be- louder.”

Louder and louder he was getting with the vulgarly fast thrust graced upon your gummy walls. The sound only makes him giggle all drunk on you, “What’s that? Here? That turn you on? Hmmm…”

And just when you’re letting your vision blur with stars- just when you think it couldn’t get any better-

“Mmmm– wan’ another taste-” 

It’s the last thing your ringing ears hear before Gojo’s lurching forwards and burying his nose into your sensitive clit to give your overstuffed entrance a leeengthy lick. Right at the very split-second the globular edges of his digits scratch at that magical spot. 

“W-woah.” Your head snaps up blearily to steal a glimpse at what had Gojo Satoru’s voice so airy n’ cracking in awe. 

Only to see him fluttering his lathered lashes, the slick-gleaming apples of his cheeks blushing. Like some maiden in love. “Got even wetter f’me, your highness.” He’s breathing out, spitting out another voluminous cobweb of drivel and watching the way it sliiides across with the ribbons of slick pouring out of you. “Ohhhh, even b-better than any candy- better than a-any dessert.”  

You yelp when one rugged and grabs a rough handful of your ass and latches his lips even sloppier against your hole. “T-Toru your arm!”

“Oh? This?” He’s glancing down at the bandages as if he’d forgotten they were ever there. “S’nothing for your- hah- personal knight. Doesn’t even hurt, I’d- I’d rather die than let a stupid injury get in the way of what I’ve been dreaming of for aaaages.”

The dual points of pleasure make your toes curl, every part of your body shaking-

Gojo was out of control now. Crazed.

High-pitched bouts of giggles escaping him, muffling around where his candy-glazed cerise lips were latched around your clit and sucking. He makes sure to hold fatal eye contact while he hollows out his scorching cheeks and drags the fleshy nub. 

 “M-making out with your pussy- your pretty, pretty pussy, my princess.” Your heartbeat echoes in rapid staccato with the vicious thud! thud! thud! of his neatly crowned fingertips pecking your g-spot. Each of his puffed-out gruffs making your tongue loosen in a please, “Making you s-so loud, making you feel so good.”

And without even realizing it, he’s rovering the papping brims of his fingers to give your clit a spank. Letting the syrupy beads slide allll the way down his tongue - letting you watch. 

“S’all me.” Gojo slurs out. “Me- me me me me–” Steady rivulets of slick bubbling from the edges of his tongue when his sinful motions get faster. Harder. “Gonna ask who m-made you feel this way n’ it’s me. Your Satoru.”

More ravenous. 

Swirling around slow probes of his sensory tips, it glazes his skin all the way down to his knobbly wrist in a thick coat of sap. Memorizing every gooey ridge and crevice inside your tight channel - shit, Gojo feels his ruddied tip spurt out a jetstream of buttery pre in his pants. 

He thinks he might just burst in his pants if you don’t finish right this second. 

But luckily - or unluckily - for him, you do. Right this very second, after being wrung dry underneath only a few more lapping slashes of his ferocious tongue, tweaking your buttony clit until you cum.

And oh, you’re so pretty when you do.

Your head throwing back with a broken moan of Toru–! It takes every ounce of trained will in his drunken body to not break off from your gooey pussy and watch the way your beautiful face twists. 

Fucked out.

“O-oh, shit–” You’re practically sobbing at this point, wrist aching with just how hard you were pushing Gojo’s readily used face into your fluttering core. Your vision blurs with sparks n’ stars, “-H-how are you so good. Unfair, unfair—”

Babbling away such nonsense with that smart mouth of yours, Gojo thinks he sees utter heaven when your hot juices flood inside his mouth in generous heaps.

Lugging down an open palm underneath his chin to greedily collect the leaking beads that sprinkly in a shiny sheen off of his chin, he finds himself moaning. “Shhh, your knight’s here. Give it t’me– use me, my princess.”

And use him you were. 

Riding out each white-hot peak of your high with slobbering grinds all across Gojo’s beautiful features. Your clit catches on the poking ridges of his mouth and nose and you squeal- “Ngh- b-better when you’re shut up like th-this, Satoru–”

Just for that, he’s spanking your goopy pussy thoroughly. 

All the way until those shots of electricity down your bowed spine are nothing more but prickly tingles, all the way until your thundering ears calm down and you can hear each damp thwack!

All the way until your high has bated and yet, Gojo is still snogging each swollen fold of your pussy like a feast. “M’sensitive–” You sniffle, and he doesn’t even seem to hear you. “Fuh-fuck, Toru, keep doing that n’ m’not gonna let you ngh fuck me.” 

That’s what finally gets his attention. 

You can feel your lips burst with a slight giggle when all it takes is a quick nanosecond for Gojo’s plumpened mouth to jerk away from your cunt with the snap! of wiry slick.

Scrambling onto unsteady feet, he’s teetering over the edge of the wood ever-so-slightly. Muscular body casting a shadow on yours, and you think he’s never looked sexier.

Fawny strands of frosty white curtaining Gojo’s half-lidded eyes, thick thighs pressing against yours shivering; and even from your position homed towards the end of the table, your eyes catch sight of such a massively outlined bulge. 

Staggering. 

One that made your hands ghost down Gojo’s tensed abs, and he’s throwing his perspiration-dampened head with a whine. 

“Need you, Satoru–” You’re managing out, strangled and messy. You’re sure you sound just as yearning as you feel. Fingers tug-tug-tugging impatiently on his gauzy clothes, “Want- you- out of these-” 

And whatever the princess wants, the princess gets. 

It’s as if on command - Gojo’s shedding his billowy shirt like it burned him. And very, very soon were his snug pants to follow, your layers, his sanity-

“Hngh- please.” He’s gruffing out, flinching just as soon as you cup his cheeks to smear away the remaining traces of slick glimmering on top of his blushing skin. Your touch was electric. Tonality painfully hoarse, “Let me fuck you- wanted it for so long. Let me fuck you please.”

Your drenched pussylips stream out a damp spot right across where you could feel his inflated vein poke between your folds. And he felt so…long. “Yes- yes, please.”

Getting the princess to say please?

He’s nodding his head shakily - Gojo could pass out, he could cu- 

Oh, just a few taps of his mushroom tip on the outer edges of your pussy and he spots something creamy topping over your mound like icing. Sweat-slicked brows furrowing, Gojo nudges in even closer to where pooling splotches of cum pours from the strawberry pink divot right in the middle of his head.

He’s cumming and he couldn’t stop. 

Couldn’t do anything but whine at the tender bolts of bliss aching all the way from his toes to his fuzzy head.

“S-Satoru did you just-”

“Shut up.” Oh, you would have his head later for this. “Shut up- shut up and just…”

N’ so he curls a hand at his bulky base and draws out a thick swab at the torrents of seed decorating your cute cunt. Making sure the milky sap formulated a glossy cap on his crownhead, before pushing rigorously in-

“F-f-fuuuuck–” he keens out, a thin line of sweat trekking down the side of his temples. And if he pushed just an inch further, Gojo could feel his hooded eyes well up with fucking tears- “Tight so tight s-sooo hot- so…”

You’re mewling, “Deeper- c-c’mon.”

He was fucking you like he didn’t even realize it - like he was enchanted by each mindless rut pulled from the carnal depths of his hips. 

Two warm hands latch on in a vice-like grip on the delicious curve of your hips, and he’s holding your body still and pushing and pushing and pushing-

“Sh-shit!” Gojo’s voice pitches up embarrassingly high at the end of his slew of swears, buttering up your insides in a muggy few ribbons of pre in response. “But s-so tight- dunno if it’ll even…even fit.”

He sounded hypnotized. 

“Are you- ngh! are you alright, Satoru?” You’re musing out, eyes glassy with a solid combination of lust and utter concern. Before you know it, your hand is reaching out to stroke the ba-dump–! thudding against his pecs.

“No.”

And it takes only the slightest graze of your doughy fingerpads against his flaming hot skin, the slightest touch from you before Gojo rudely swats your hand away and bottoms out-

You don’t even know what you were mad at- were you mad?

You really can’t even remember. Not when the crowned tip of Gojo’s incredible length was planting a sweet peck right into the sponged ends of your cervix, the entirety of his shaft spearheading you so deep that you think he might just be fucking into your lungs. 

So big that he didn’t even have to try to rub the puffy zig-zag of his veins along your sweetest spots, even the most minute gyrations made your toes curl. 

Splitting you apart. Stroking the weepy base of your slit with the hot, rounded sack of his breeder balls so right that it made you putty in his hands.

“Don’t t-touch me, my princess.” Gojo’s nuzzling his tear-stuck cheek against your own, you could feel the warble of his unsteady confessions. “Don’t touch me or I’ll…I’ll cum.”

And when has Gojo Satoru ever lied to you? Well, the upturned jolt of his split-ended tip right into the target of your mushy cervix told you that he wasn’t.

Gojo’s sinking down the edges of his teeth into his wobbly lower lip, he’s forcing his eyes to narrow down n’ obscure his crystal clear image of you to stop himself from cumming. 

“So beautiful, can’t help it–” His breath hitches once he’s pushing apart your trembly thighs and stretching them over the two ends of his broad shoulders. Your ankles pitching down onto the rippling plush of his toned deltoids. “So perfect.”

“S-sweet-talker.” You whisper, mouth as dry as the Sahara with how his thick circumference was stretching out your rubbery walls until they were seering. 

But if Gojo heard then he didn’t snap back - he was too pussydrunken to.

Moving on instinct, on that carnal twinge inside his brain that forced his powerful limbs to lock your ankles with one hand behind his head. To brace an engulfing palm right beside your head and lower himself down, down, down into a-

A mating press. 

Gojo Satoru had you in a fucking mating press.

“So mine.”

And he was pounding all his aching inches into you like it would be the last time. Like he was mazing through your adhesive-like walls and plummeting the leaky end of his cock to knock against your very womb. 

Gojo’s nose crinkles at the sheer warmth you were coating him in, dripping fresh slathers of slick in rings ‘round his hilt. He shivers as it drools down his tight balls, “I’m…I’m really fucking you- ngh! I’m fucking you, my princess.”

“Yes- yes yes yes—” Your mouth parts ajar, and you don’t know what it floods more with - your pathetic whines, or saliva. Coating a treacly river from each curl of your lips, “More. More, Toru.”

Oh.

You might have just broken him with that. 

Even through your fucked-out stupor, you’re gaping at the way that the hand beside your head curls into an unyielding fist. It has to.

Otherwise, Gojo’s plump cockhead would be sugarcoating your sloppy hole in much more than just copious amounts of sticky precum. He would’ve cum.

“M-more?” You hear from above you, your knight’s bulging pecs vibrating with the plea. Oh, was it a plea - strained, shaking. Gojo sounded as if he was two seconds away from simply bursting into crazed laughter, “More…more. My princess wants- fuck! More?”

Fat ends of his fingers lock around the sides of your cheeks and force you into such an unladylike pout. “Say it- say it, little royal.”

“Shit!” Your core arches up into his hardened one, just as Gojo knew it would when angling his hips juuust right to give your bulging g-spot a long, hard swipe. Your throbbing clit scratching against his pale happy trail. “Yes- ngh yes I want more. Want more, Satoru!”

More. 

And more was exactly what you were going to get. More than you could handle.

Your thighs ache with the struggle to stay open when Gojo tightens his lock around your ankles. Gruffing out a tight, “Take it then.”

He was so sexy, the swelling flex of his biceps enough to make your pussy drool and him slip n’ slide pliantly. Jackhammering away rugged pumps that you feel all the way in your leaden throat.

Your most favorite spots are so bruised that they’re almost tender, curling the base of your spine with tendrils of bliss that make you yelp.

“O-ohhh my god—” The side of his neck dampens as you’re leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that make the man pinning you down shiver. His sculpted abs twinging with every massage down your front, “Just like that, a-always wanted to fuck you, Toru–”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Gojo hiccups, the expression upon his features plain pained. Voice dipping into a whine, “Don’t know what y-you’re doing t’me.”

But now that you were babbling away, you couldn’t stop. Not even when he’s speeding up his vigorous cadence until the globes of your ass are left stinging, “M’serious– I always wanted-”

“Shut up shut up- shut up- my princess.” You don’t think that either of you were even lucid at this point, and every pap! of skin-on-skin is followed by the screeching creak of the table below you. Gojo rolls his eyes down at you fondly, “Gotta m-make you cum so you can shut up.”

Otherwise you were going to drive him wild until there’s no turning back.

Before you can let off a moan - or fervently agree - he thumbs over the perked hood of your clit. Drawing- circles? Hearts? No, his own name. 

A tedious little S-A-T-O-R-U that makes your gushing walls clench oh-so-tightly around his sweltering length. Tummy tightening into something so close to shattering. 

And Gojo was rough. Snickering at the way you whine, spilling out wadded volumes of spittle between your parted lips. He breathes, “Gonna make you cum- g-gonna make my princess cum.” You swear he nods down at your pussy and grins, “G-gotta be a good girl f’me, m’kay? Gonna be a good- girl- and…”

His hips slap sloppily against yours, overworked thumb stuttering on a swooping U over your sensitive nub. And the tension in the air pulls tight, tight, tight like the most delicate of strings, before crashing- “-cum.”

You don’t know who cums first - you or Gojo. 

All you know is that as soon as your mind explodes with bursts of bliss - his poor cock does, as well. 

Head toppling backwards, overfilled pussy slopping out waterfalls of sweet, sweet juices, it’s all you can do not to sob. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck-” Your nails rake red, red lines all down his expansive back. Pulling him in even closer until all he can manage are dirty lil’ half-thrusts to pound you through your high. “M’cumming, Toru-”

“Y-yeah?” Gojo’s stuttering wetly, sloppily. Pushing the fat battering of his fountaining orifice into the groove of your g-spot over n’ over n’ over. You didn’t know how anything could feel so good. “N’ who made you cum, hm? Who’s f-fucking this pretty pussy, hm?”

“You-” You’re prattling, “You, Satoru.”

“Fuck.” Gojo gapes in wide-eyed craze, breath hitching when you lean over to drag your tongue over the sappy trickle of drool escaping his rose-red lips. “G-gonna make me cum again, swear-”

And he does.

“Can- can we hold hands while I hck! fuck you through your high, my princess?” He bats his lashes, a delicate blush taking over the tips of Gojo’s ears when you lace your fingers together. 

You can feel the splat! of even more heavy seed hitting the bottom of your pussy, swashing a warm second coating to your elastic walls every time Gojo thrusts. He was so solidly inside. Pinpointing specks of pure white with each swab. 

So full. So much of his voluminous ounces that it’s taken to tipping over from between your pussylips and forming a creamy puddle below you. You’re slipping all over it with every slither of Gojo’s cock.

But neither of you can even think to bring yourselves to be disgusted. To care for etiquette. 

Because Gojo drifts his hand over an invisible line where your tummy was being bloated with his length and his cum- and you find yourself aching for more all over again. 

“This looks…” Gojo starts, syllables scratchy and jagged. He’s practically whimpering - whimpering - at the sight of that lecherous cylindrical bulge being fucked into you. 

You’re dripping with him, and his cock twitches ferally at the thought of you all round and glowing. What a pretty mama you’d make. “...looks like the n-next heir to the throne will be a Gojo, my princess.”

Oh, you liked the thought of that.

And looking at Gojo Satoru now - eyes still not fully focused with how ruined he was, skin blushed the same maidenly shade of red that his slobbering mushroom tip was, pretty smile directed at you and only you in this lilac-scented haze - you didn’t think you wanted it any other way.

But, of course, Gojo would never want it any other way, either. Never. 

He clears his throat, sapphire gaze hardening; the intensity of it sending chills sprinting down your spine. Burning with a fervent I love you I love you I love you.

Massive hands intertwined with yours pull into your line of vision, and Gojo takes his dear time pressing a lingering peck onto each n’ every single one of your knuckles. But particularly on the one above your left ring finger.

This was it. 

“My princess…run away with me?”

.

.

.

“Didya hear ‘bout that Prince Naoya?”

“Oh yes- had his bride stolen away by a knight, I hear. Put a knife to his throat n’ took her away in the dead of night!”

“Hogwash! The boy was a looker, she went quite willingly, see- I always did think that Naoya wasn’t good ‘nough for our princess.”

“Wonder what happened after? That Zenin bunch was quite furious I hear, that bratty prince is still out for blood. But ol’ Naobito and some commander came to the rescue- Somethin’ about corruption and Jinichi…”

“Bah! Who cares about that? S’the biggest royal affair of the century- a handsome knight sweeping away the beloved princess? They’re swoonin’ n’ calling him the Knight of Roses already. All I wanna know is how the young couple is doing!”

Yaga rolls his eyes at other rambunctious customers churning gossip-mill, a pint clutched tightly in one hand and a scrap of paper in the other. 

Honestly, he comes to the pub for once to escape from palace duties - and the palace duties seem to want to escape with him! 

And even after so many months since that engagement party fiasco? News really did trickle down slowly when royal scandals were so often covered.

Oh, whatever. He muses, thumb gliding over the glossy parchment- some new innovation from kingdoms beyond the sea, according to what the eagerly-accompanied writing had said. A…a photograph, you had called it.

And Gojo’s surprisingly intricate drawing of you fiddling with the ah- camera gave him an idea of the machinery, though- most of the sketches were of you. All of them, actually.

Yaga gazes on in slight wonderment at the perfect black and white depiction of your smile, rivalling the one of Gojo Satoru’s beside yours. Beaming, sleeves rolled up and fatigued with a day of hard work, so in love. 

It was oh-so-positively sweet.

The cherry on top? Well, Yaga couldn’t quite decide between the matching bands glinting on each of your left ring-fingers, the glimpse of a pretty lil’ cottage behind you two, and the massive bouquet of undoubtedly deep red roses Gojo was presenting you with.

Or perhaps it was the hand you were resting absent-mindedly on the obviously rounded curve of your tummy.

How fortunate, he tucks away the photograph into his coat with a smile and orders another pint. Knight of Roses, indeed. 

A/N. Yearning is my kink mhm. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

Hey. Minors following me. Internet safety is key!! NEVER include these in your bio/byf:

Medical diagnoses - this is nobody's business but yours. You don't owe anyone an explanation for why you are the way that you are

Trauma - same reason as above

Triggers - people can use these against you! Don't give people tools to hurt you. No one has to know what tags you block. Just block tags to stay safe!

Age - age is okay for adults to include but is iffy when you're a teen. Predators want this information, don't give people more than they need. Just state that you're a minor, that's all that anyone needs to know.

In general: stay safe. If you're not comfortable with every stranger out there having access to this information, you shouldn't post it on the internet.

Play devil's advocate and ask yourself about what would happen if someone searched for your information with intent to hurt you. You do NOT owe anyone an explanation!

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

IT’S NOT ‘PEEKED’ MY INTEREST

OR ‘PEAKED’

BUT PIQUED

‘PIQUED MY INTEREST’

THIS HAS BEEN A CAPSLOCK PSA

if you’re reading this i hope something good happens to you today

like to charge reblog to cast

really enjoying all the videos Muslims have been posting of their cats looking like this

when the humans are up at 4 am for suhoor

𝓒𝓡𝓨𝓑𝓐𝓑𝓨.      toji fushiguro.

pt.two for am i baby.

ᰔᩚ . . . 7.1k. fem!reader, lowercase intended, relationship building, baecation, outside sex, fluff, overstim /multiple orgasms, spanks, oral ꒰ f. ꒱, masturbation, hair pulling, domestication, size difference, daddy kink srry not srry, squirting, intimacyyy, sub / dom, alcohol consumption + heightened pleasure, unprotected, marathon sex lawd, pet names ꒰ baby, angel, girl ꒱, shyness bc toji’s intimidating, rough sex, small asphyxiation kink, dacryphilia, praise, minors aren’t welcomed! reblogs & comments are appreciated!

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ! ꒱ . . .yall i put my foot into this pls love meeeeeeeeee.

“where the fuck did it go?! toji, oh my god!” 

this was the last thing you needed to start off your vacation, being swallowed by a fucking eight-foot snake. while walking through the thick forest of the island the two of you resorted, you and toji decided to start the early afternoon off by gathering fresh fruits and vegetables for brunch. the sunlight barely peeks through the leaves of the large trees surrounding you, providing a cool shade from the hot temperatures. a rustling sound came from above halfway through your search, and low and behold, your eyes came into contact with an enormous viper coiled up in the tree with the damn bananas. your breath immediately catches in your throat as you clutch onto toji’s muscular arm, frightened by the sight. it’s clear you have a phobia he wasn’t aware of. 

“if i knew you were afraid of snakes, i would've never agreed to this.” 

a tiny screech from you makes the big man beside you invert his lips to keep down a laugh. it’s not funny that you’re scared, but the way you cling to him as if he’s supposed to choke slam the reptile cracks him up. “it’s not going to hurt you, babe. it’s in a tree.” 

“how do you know that?! you see how it looked at me? i can’t see where it went.” 

“i think it’s just minding it’s business. if it did want to eat you, i don’t blame him.” 

your frown deepens as you stare at him. “you’re not funny.” 

“i’m just saying you taste good . .” 

“don’t make fun of meeee!” 

“i swear i’m not. i’m trying to stay vigilant for you.” 

just as toji finishes speaking, your gaze falls upon the snake again, your heart skipping a beat as panic finally sets in. you freeze, breath catching in your throat as you stare at the tan reptile in horror.

“t-toji . ." you stammer voice trembling slightly as you reach out to aggressively grab his arm, nails digging into his skin. “it’s there. .” you whisper, your eyes wide with fear as you point towards the creature. “oh my fucking gosh, it's right there!” 

your frantic whisper draws toji to immediately react, his reflexes kicking in as he swiftly assesses the situation. the snake is indeed close by, it’s forked tongue flicking in and out as it tracks your movements slithering between branches, nearly camouflaging. without hesitation, toji wraps his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest and shielding you from potential danger. your eyes remain bulged, almost going into a state of shock. 

“stay close to me. don't look at it,” he orders firmly, his voice deep and authoritative as he stands between you and the serpent. “let's go back to the villa.” 

thankfully, toji managed to lead you back to the villa safely, the fear coursing through your veins such a pain. you hated those goddamn things. you wished they'd all go extinct.

a private villa in riviera nayarit, mexico, was one of the many dream destinations toji was willing to check off your list. surrounded by lush greenery teeming with wildlife and waters as blue as the sky. staying on a cliff top that overlooked the sea, open doors, daybeds on a terrace with a pool. the architecture and decor is stunning. high ceilings and ornate details. when you first arrived, a sense of awe washed over you, feeling like you were daydreaming. the room is filled with natural light, pouring in through the double sliding doors and shining onto the king-sized bed draped in silk sheets and velvet pillows. waves crashing against the shore creating a soothing background melody. it was truly the best gift you’d ever received. 

he wouldn’t tell you the total of anything, simply because you didn’t have to worry. he offered to treat you and that’s exactly what he did. you didn’t know how to repay him. you weren’t the best at receiving expensive gifts. of course liking it, but feeling guilty after. he’d reassured you multiple times that he did it out of his own kindness, and because he likes you. a lot, clearly. your heart calmed down the moment you stepped back into the villa, wanting to cook to get your mind off of it. the only excursion he had booked today was an atv ride and a day out in the food market, so there was plenty of time to unwind. 

“i need a shower,” he announces, nodding your head as you drop your fruits and veggies basket into the sink to prepare to wash them. toji drops his basketball shorts to the ground, pulling his black tee over his head until he's fully naked. 

“i’ll just get started on brunch!” 

you’d been craving a chicken cucumber salad, deciding to prepare that for the both of you since you know your diet is going to be shit from constantly eating out. you had to make a few things to keep your guts somewhat in shape. toji watches you in the kitchen, humming softly and bouncing in your spot as you turn your brain off. he couldn’t help but smile, this sight something he wouldn’t mind seeing every day. the weight of his footsteps is visceral, your body taking a screenshot when you feel his dick suddenly press against the curve of your ass, gasping when his arms wrap around you to rock the two of you side by side. 

“come shower with me.” 

“i, um . .” it's still so new being this intimate with someone who absolutely fucked the daylights out of you only a month ago. 

coaxing you into taking this vacation with him to further get to know each other. he's been busy with work, and you've been panicking over picking outfits and being alone with him for an entire week. that night even after the cameras shut off, he fucked you a good two more times before saying his goodbyes the following morning. so since then it’s just been facetime calls or small pop-ups where he'd bring a bouquet of flowers and fruits. even send you dinner when your days are too long and you've worked your ass off to afford the luxury studio you reside in. after everything, he still intimidates you. 

your chest begins to burn with anxiousness, gasping again when he lays open-mouthed kisses along your neck, his body practically swallowing yours from the significant size difference. his dick jumps against your backside, and you can’t help but moan from the feeling of his tongue gliding along your sensitive spot. his masculine scent enraptured you. 

“i'm hungry.”

“mhm, so am i.” 

you giggle lightly. “for food. i want food.” 

toji takes the hint and releases you, taking a step back as he recounts the feeling of your erratic heartbeat against his arm. his steel gray eyes rake your body from head to toe before chuckling. 

“you gotta week with me, baby. it's your decision to keep your legs closed if you want.” 

“that a threat?” 

“i didn't say that,” he smirks. 

his heavy footsteps hit along the floorboards as he chuckles and makes his way towards the open bathroom. you distract yourself by prepping the ingredients for your meal. slicing cucumbers and red onions into a glass serving bowl. the wooden cutting board you chopped along echoed loudly with each cut, your mind fading to thoughts as you listen to the shower running.

he’s rinsing away any lingering traces of sweat and dirt as he lathered himself in soap, hot water cascading over his built frame. you try your hardest not to watch, the kitchen island you used to chop at your food directly facing the glass shower. his body confines such a large space. your eyes roaming over his broad shoulders and strong arms covered in droplets and dark ink making your mouth go dry involuntarily. shifting in your spot even as you recall the feel of him pressed against you. flashbacks hitting you altogether. 

as toji continues to shower, he becomes increasingly aware of your attention on him, catching a peek to see you approaching where he stood. body moving without your say. he finds himself unable to fully repress the sensual pleasure that comes from being observed, dick swelling further as he realizes how intimate the situation has become. he lets out a soft groan, pushing deeper into the stream of water pouring down from above, trying to stay respectful to you. 

he knows you've been nervous about having sex with him again, not entirely sure why considering he’s had you in every position imaginable. but he wasn’t one to pressure you into it. if you wanted him, you could take him. he didn’t care. booking this trip wasn’t about that anyways. he wanted to spend time with you and get to know you further because he caught feelings unintentionally fast. things like that usually don’t happen for him, so when it did, he acted quick to show that person that he’s worth having. 

“don't just stare, get in here.” 

a jolt of arousal flows through your body, hesitating for a moment before deciding to stop being a pussy. using your thumbs, you hook them within the elastic band of your skims shorts to slowly drag down your legs, discarding the matching top along with it. biting your bottom lip, you watch as toji’s eyes sharpen as he glares at you, skin bare, hair flowing beautifully around you in dark curls. the freckles cast along your t-zone and thick, pouty lips he needed in his mouth desperately. taking a step forward, the cold stones beneath your feet make you jump, needing to get closer to the water to feel the heat. the steam envelops you instantly, droplets of water clinging onto your skin like tiny diamonds, nipples hardening under the cool air blowing in from outside. 

he goes to grab your face with both of his hands, moaning as he instinctively thrusts his hips forward, a squeak coming from you as his dick nudges against your mound. he groans, dark hair damp along his face, the water beating hard on his back as he bends to your level to aggressively connect your mouth with his. your eyes falter shut, gliding your lips to match his pace, toji pushing you up against the shower wall, the water streaming between where you two meet, kissing hard, almost suffocating as you gulp down the water. his hands are all over you, squeezing at your hips, then your ass to lift you closer so his dick slides between your thighs, brushing your clit. 

“let's focus on showering,” you giggle nervously, trying to catch your breath and pull away, but a hand around your throat pulls you back. 

“yeah, let's stop pretending.” 

you whimper in his mouth as he goes to kiss you again, this time it’s more passionate. rushing his tongue over yours slowly as he grips at your hips, rolling his forward. he goes to take both of your wrists to pin them above your head, locking you still with one hand before he’s lowering his head to suck on your neck. tongue brushing your warm skin and following with hard kisses. the ache between your thighs pursuing, unable to control your hips from rocking, moaning pathetically. toji decides to press his advantage, moving his mouth to your chest where he fondles and puts your tits in his mouth, sucking with a heavy groan. 

your body visibly trembles beneath his touch, and it only serves to drive him on further. he releases his mouth, and with one hand gripping your hip firmly, he reaches between your thighs with the other and starts stroking your puffy clit carefully at first, building up speed as he feels how wet you've become, soon slipping in his middle and ring finger to fuck you open. 

“goddamn, girl. you’re so tight. and pretty,” he looks down at you pinned against the wall, a mixture of desire and dominance etched onto his face. toji knows that he's taken control of this situation, and he relishes in the power he has over you right now. arching shockingly into his touch, the sensation makes your stomach flutter. 

“baby, no f-fair,” you stutter, crying out with your nails digging into his shoulders as you meet each of his powerful strokes with your own eager movements.

“how? you fuckin’ them back,” toji taunts with a smirk, rubbing against that sweet spot that instantly makes your nails dig into the back of his thick thigh. the squelch of your pussy echoes soundly in the area, fingers thick and fucking you good. clenching and keeping them deep within you. 

toji brushes his lips over yours, giving you a rough kiss before grunting in your face, forehead against yours. “let me taste your pussy.” 

you’ve come this far, so you might as well see it through. you nod your head in approval, trailing your hand up the side of his neck before brushing them through the damp coils of his hair, attempting to lower his face with need. he pulls you close to him by the backs of your thighs, taking a seat on the shower floor, your hand on top of his damp head to lower his face and gazing up at you with lidded eyes. lifting your right leg, he sets your foot on his shoulder, instantly dropping his mouth open to latch onto your throbbing clit as you roughly tug at his scalp. 

his heavy tongue sweeps over your cunt with tenacity, jaw widening to suck you entirely into his mouth, your moans vibrating in his ears like broken symphonies. you hold his head still to shift your hips and fuck his face, his salvia mixing with your arousal as he slurps and pulls on your clit with his soft lips, releasing with a pop before he’s raising your thigh higher to sink his tongue into you. lapping up all the juices that have accumulated there due to your arousal. toji’s other hand reaches around to grip your ass cheek, pulling you even closer against him so that there’s no chance of escape. 

his large frame takes up most of the space ensuring your safety, unworried of slipping. plus the rocks have pretty good support. he keeps your pussy firmly locked between his lips as he drops a hand to stroke his dick out of aching need, precum dribbling down its length. growling in pleasure, he takes his fingers to stuff back into you briefly, your gasps and whines make his dick jump as he uses your slick to lubricate his dick, gasping from the interaction. you’ve got him ridiculously turned on. 

“t-toji, babe—g’na cum. tongue feels s’good,” toji’s throbs within his fist he pumps roughly as he moans into your pussy. you listen to his hand connect wetly with his thighs, whimpering from it all. 

“good girl, give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles with fervor, tugging on his hair to anchor him in place so that he doesn't pull away from your cunt too soon. as he pounds into his palm relentlessly, toji’s eyes close tightly as he loses himself in the moment, letting out deep grunts of pleasure with each stroke.

you pant and gasp heavily, cumming in his mouth as he spanks you repeatedly, crying out his name and grinding on his face. body shaking from the intense orgasm he wrung out of you. it happens the same moment toji cums in his palm, groans overlapping yours as ropes of white splurt out and covers his knuckles. the view above him has his thighs tightening, your tits pressed to the glass wall making him stroke the head of his dick with a hiss, leaning his head back against the wall with awe. 

“you’re so goddamn pretty,” he murmured with ragged breaths, looking up with half-lidded eyes filled with desire and submission.

‎               𐦍 

hours pass after your fun in the shower, both deciding to forget about the brunch you planned to make and getting dressed to head out to explore the community. it began raining pretty heavily, getting a call from the atv company stating that they weren’t allowing people to ride today, and ensuring that you could come tomorrow. you weren’t pressed about it, wanting to have a chill day with him anyways. it’s dark out, but colorful lights are bright as toji leads you through the maze of streets and vendors, pointing out different ranges of food and drinks along the way. you stop at various stands, trying street food and drinks together, sharing laughs and intimate moments amidst the chaos of the busy marketplace.

you reach up to grab on to toji’s arm, pulling yourself closer to his side as you weave through the lively atmosphere. you loved the feeling of being protected by such a big, strong man. especially in such a chaotic environment where anything could happen. you savor every moment of your adventure, soaking up the sights, sounds, and flavors of mexico. you feel like you’re living in a dream, surrounded by toji’s protection and endearment. you don’t know if he caught on to it, quite frankly you were the only person on his mind, but lots of women stared at the two of you with envy and jealousy. women eyeing toji’s muscular frame and towering presence. it makes you feel proud and possessive, knowing that everyone is envious of what you have.

"i love this," you whisper to toji, leaning against him for support as you navigate through the crowd toward your next destination.

he smiles down at you, brushing the side of your face with his big hand before kissing your forehead. the two of you find a nearby restaurant, deciding to sit outside since the weather was nicer after clearing up. he had ordered you a strawberry daiquiri, which you drank in under five minutes, ordering another one while he sipped on his whiskey. the two of you hold hands across the table as you search through the menu, music playing loudly in the background, your body moving in the seat to the beat, the liquor finally catching on to you. 

“you’re such a damn lightweight,” toji shakes his head as he chuckles in enjoyment, watching you dance.

shaking your head, you giggle from the tipsy feeling you’re getting, staring lovingly into his eyes as you lean in closer. “they were sooo good though. i kind of want another one.”

“not until after you eat something. you only had churros and elote, sweetheart,” he protests, eyes skimming the menu. stomach leaning toward steak tacos.

“boo, you’re no fun!” you wave him off, attempting to break free from his hold until he’s using his strength to keep your palms interlocked, your body nearly yanking across the table from his strength, persistent on touching you.

toji grins, gently scratching the scar on the side of his mouth with his thumb. "mhm, you won’t be saying that when you’re whining about you being nauseous.”

“but you’ll take care of me, right, daddy,” the punctuation on the pet name had his jaw tightening, chuckling under his breath.

toji studies you, the curly updo you'd done exposing your round face so well, the baby blue of your strapless maxi dress accentuating your curves deliciously. the color radiating on your skin. white sandals on your bubble bath french toes. light makeup, only adding white to your waterline, dark liner on your full lips, and glitter over your matching blue eyeshadow and your body. you're truly his angel. toji rubs his thumb over the zodiac tattoo on your hand, lifting your hand to kiss your skin, smelling your vanilla scent.

“i always take care of you. you know that.”

your heart flutters at the gesture, feeling the blush in your cheeks.

"what? nothin' to say," he teases.

"shut it, i'm thinking," you pout.

"yeah? you thinkin'?" you screech when toji reaches around to grip the leg of your chair, holding on to his bicep while giggling wholeheartedly. he drags you to sit beside him, sliding his hand up the side of your soft face to bring it closer to his own.

"what are you doing," you whisper.

"taking care of you," he rubs the back of your neck soothingly before placing a rough kiss there, practically swallowing your neck.

he repeats on the other side before hovering his lips over yours, steel gray eyes intense before he wetly kisses you, the sound echoing between you two. you moan from the feel, the liquor making the feeling between your legs no better.

"so perfect," he mumbles, giving you one more kiss and pulling away. "you having fun, baby?"

"wha—huh?" you blink, his question coming random. the way he makes you feel is truly indescribable.

"the trip so far. its what you wanted, right? even with me?" it's serious the way he says it, wanting a genuine response.

"oh, yes, mhm hmm. of course i am. i really couldn't be more grateful."

"i know you're grateful, what i want to know is if you enjoy being with me," he clarifies.

his eyes are low as he stares at you as if he's nervous to hear what you say. he's the biggest teddy bear. you smile softly, running your fingers though his dark hair. "yes, toji—i do. love spending time with you a lot. and i think we've been connecting really well. you're really funny, and sexy, also so sweet, protective and all. just everything i want in a man, honestly. i’ve been having the best time here with you."

toji nods graciously. “i'm happy to hear that. you're an amazing woman, extremely beautiful with the biggest personality. and i’ve been enjoying myself as well. i see myself being with you.” 

"awe, you're such a cutie patootieee," toji groans as you kiss all over his face with an exaggerated 'muah muah'.

"don't call me that."

"muffin baby? teddy bear? baby boo?"

"nah," he laughs hard, shaking his head.

there was an item on the menu for couples that seemed to be a tourist special. when the waiter came out, there was an assortment of carne asada tacos plated on a heart-shaped wooden board with red roses planted in the middle along with a singular candle. you gasp in awe, squealing as you clap and immediately pull out your phone to document the memory. you glow in happiness, and it makes his heart warm.

you equally enjoy your food, almost moaning after every bite, ordering more drinks, and laughing in each other’s faces. the later it got, the more people arrived, a few couples dancing together within the brick road to sensual tunes. your tummy is full. toji pays the bill before helping you stand from your seat, kissing your face before grabbing a glass of water and forcing you to sip some for balance.

“drink some, don’t argue,” he holds the straw to your pouty lips, not wanting the buzz to lay off. you in fact ordered another daquiri.

huffing, you wrap your lips around the straw, holding onto his arm as you stare up at him past your lashes. toji ignores the rush of heat that pools into his abdomen from the way you look at him, glancing between your tits where your necklace swings as you swallow your water down until the glass is empty.

"gotta pee," you grumble.

"mhm, let's go."

toji secures your hand and walks you to the women’s bathroom, standing outside of the door for your safety and privacy. when your done, toji comes in to wash his hands before the two of you head back out, the area bustling.

"c'mere," toji's voice is hoarse as he pulls you with him to the middle of the street along with the other couples, wrapping an arm around your waist to press you close to his chest while his other sits low on your back.

"you can dance?" you raise your brow, his hands sliding up underneath your arms to entwine your fingers in the air, both arms raised as he chuckles deeply from your stunned face.

“just follow the beat, dance on me.”

deciding to just be in the moment, you begin to roll your hips to the loud thump of the beat, his larger frame tugging you along in circles. toji begins humming and singing in your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and making your nipples unexpectedly harden beneath your dress. the alcohol in both of your systems making you equally sensitive. toji loses himself in you and the music, swaying gently.

“when the hell you learn spanish?” you say quietly, caught between embarrassment and arousal as his hands roam over your body sensually, moving closer to him and matching his movements.

“went to trade school in barcelona.”

as he continues to dance with you, toji's hands wander lower, subtly squeezing and massaging your ass over your dress. occasionally, he bites lightly on your neck or earlobe, leaving you gasping, face definitely hot. the sensation of his large palms gripping your ass makes you moan, arching your back slightly, pressing your breasts more firmly against his chest as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and the intoxicating closeness of embrace.

it wasn't anything out of the ordinary considering other couples were doing the exact same thing, the sensuality of touches and connection evident. your own hands slide up toji's muscular back tight in his black t-shirt, nails digging lightly into his skin as you cling to him, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck, a soft moan escaping as he nips and kisses the sensitive skin there.

you turn in his arms, grinding your ass back against him, hips swaying seductively to the rhythm. your hands reach back to grab hold of his thighs, pulling him even closer until there's barely any space between you. in that moment, you can feel the hardness of his dick on you, toji groaning in your ear, both of you desperate to leave at this point.

"let's head back."

everything happened so fast. toji called for a car and the two of you tried your absolute hardest not to be obnoxiously inappropriate in the backseat. literally grinding, unnoticeably to the driver, in your seat as he clasps your neck and kissed you, equally intoxicated. 

“ima fuck you so bad,” toji grumbles as he kisses behind your ear, his heavy palm keeping your legs closed while he smooths his hand up and down. 

you giggle almost helplessly, raving in his infatuation for you, feeling like lovedrunk strangers. the thrill of withholding your passion in the backseat of an uber in a foreign country felt scandalous. a breath of air is released from you once you step into your villa, toji guiding you up the stairs so you don’t slip. the quietness of your home gives you goosebumps, the sober part of you realizing that it really is just the two of you. swallowing, you attempt to lessen your anxiety by distracting your brain. 

“ahh, come get meeee!” toji watches darkly as you screech loudly after removing your sandals, rushing out towards the terrace where the infinity pool resided, needing the fresh air since you felt so hot. 

taking a seat on the sunlounger, you turn your back to the brooding, intimidating man. heart thumping in your chest from the ominous silence as he approaches you. it felt like a replay of your first time. smiling like an idiot when you smell his cologne, staring ahead at the trees that blow in the warm air, the scent of the ocean comforting. his fingers graze your skin, and you try not to jump from his gruff voice directly by your ear. 

“why you runnin’ from me?” toji stands up straight, pressing your back to him, feeling the fabric of his dark jeans on your skin along with the imprint of his dick. your mouth begins to water. 

“told you to catch me,” you roll your neck back, whimpering when his hand goes to tighten around your throat, his body leaning over slightly to slide his hand down your chest, pulling down the top of your dress. 

you whimper from the air blowing on your skin, perfume flowing and nipples perk. he wants you so damn bad. “nah, be honest, baby. you still nervous?” 

you bite your lip from his harsh fondles at your tits, tracing down to your stomach while you heave. 

“huh? answer me, ꒰♡꒱.”

“mhm,” you groan, face going hot, not wanting to answer. “it’s stupid.” 

“what’s stupid?” now toji’s picking you up so your knees sit on the chair, keeping his chest against your back as he brushes his lips along your collarbone, leaving wet kisses that make you grind your ass back on to him. 

“it’s just—” you pause, toji’s lips on your jaw as he pulls your dress up to your stomach, moaning when he digs his fingers into the flesh of your hips, snapping the fabric of your panties on your skin. 

“just what, keep talkin’ to me,” you try to catch your breath, toji slowly pulling them down to the middle of your thighs just so he can touch your clit, a string of your juices disconnecting from the lace.

he kept his chin on your shoulder, letting you fall back into his hold while he reached to stimulate your clit, rough fingers being as gentle as possible as he rubbed your clit in circles, spreading your legs further, pleasure consuming you. your knees buckle momentarily, your sensitivity shockingly high. 

“it’s scary,” you moan, dipping your hips low into his palm, his fingers collecting your slickness by sinking them into you, your hand coming to grip the wrist that’s moving as he slips in and out. 

“what’s scary, angel?” as he’s fucking you knuckle deep with two fingers, guiding him as he does it while thrumming your clit with his thumb, you can hear the metal of his belt clink as he unravels the heavy leather.

“y-you—ah,” he goes to tangle his hand within your hair, creating a sturdy grip as he exposes your neck by pushing you down to arch your back.

toji slings his leg over the chair so he’s positioned right behind you, removing his fingers to trail up the side of your thigh and up to your hip where he squeezes then molds the flesh of your ass up to your waist. 

“i need a straight answer, ꒰♡꒱.” 

your thighs almost clamp shut in surprise from his dick rubbing in between, collecting the wetness within your folds, slowly rocking forward while keeping your head back by your hair. his mouth goes back on your throat, sucking and biting feverishly. 

whining from his teasing, you go to close your legs to add pressure to your clit and to feel him better as he rubs your pussy with only his dick. a hard swat on your ass makes you pause, whimpering and grinding back with impatience. toji pulls himself off of you entirely, smacking your ass once again before he’s situating himself underneath you, your thighs on either side of his head with his eyes on yours. he hits you again. tearing the lace panties off from your thighs, too impatient to move you again just to remove them.

“c’mon, come tell daddy,” he’s pushing you to sit on his face, your dainty fingers tangling within the midnight tresses of his hair to snag. 

blowing a raspberry, your hips stutter from his brutal kisses along your skin. planting open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs up to the side of your hips, his thick tongue tasting every sensitive part of you, besides the one you really needed him to. both hands coming up to squeeze at your chest as he licks and sucks right above your clit, tongue just barely grazing it. you were only making this harder for the both of you. he would’ve fucked you twenty minutes ago. 

“babe,” it’s becoming too much for you, trying to force his face closer to your pussy, needing him desperately. “i just need you. more than i’ve ever needed anyone. it’s so—so different with you. you fuck me so good, and i like you so much it scares me.” 

toji stares at you with visible arousal, that turns him on more than you’d ever know. placing his hand on your lower back, you arch forward, tits against the sunlounger and shoving you on his awaiting mouth. your gasp echoes in the night, listening to your slick drip on his tongue mixing his salvia with it as he rushes it along your pulsating clit. you cry, having a deadlock on the top of the chair while falling forward onto his face. his nose is smushed to your tummy, breathing hard as you ride his face drunkenly. 

“ooo, shit daddy,” the squeals emitting from you are so cute he can’t help but spank you again, pushing your ass up to mold to your hips again so he can reach every part of your pussy, bouncing his head up and down, grunting in you. “mhmm, i love how you eat it, baby. love it.” 

his lips wrap around your clit to suck hard, pulling her free and slurping you up all around, tongue eventually sliding into your warm hole where the sweetness intensified, only making him greedier. 

“fuck, angel,” he sputters against your pussy, mouth enclosing repeatedly on your clit while he pushed your ass forward so you can properly fuck his tongue. 

you lift your right leg to balance it beside his head, rotating your waist and inching further down on his tongue, eyes squeezing shut with your mouth agape. “toji—yesss. ooh, that’s it baby.” 

a hiccup falls from you, whimpering as you grind on his face, feeling your orgasm approach. you push harder against him, encouraging him to go faster and deeper with his thrusts. he’s fucking you with his tongue like he’d fuck you for real. curling and dipping it deep, swallowing all of your cum. with trembling legs, you watch as he wraps his arm around your waist while holding your thigh to the side of his face, slightly sitting up to kiss sloppily at your pussy faster. jaw clenching the wider he dropped his mouth open to taste you, moaning roughly. 

your toes curl as you cum in his mouth, unable to speak, only breathe after a few seconds of silent but heavy breathing. you cry out, fisting his black hair and rocking a few more times just to keep feeling his tongue on you. 

“fuckin’ good girl,” toji gruffs, smacking your ass again before he's lifting up both of your weights, putting you back on your knees so he can crouch behind you. 

he makes you lay fully on your knees, your cheek on the chair with your ass high up. holding on to either side of the furniture, you weakly smile up at him as he removes his jeans, placing one foot up as he comes behind you, kissing up your spine which makes you arch into your knees, shuddering. 

“you’re such a crybaby, y’know that?” his buff right arm comes to lock around your neck, kissing your cheek before reaching for his dick, rubbing the tip up and down your slit and finally to both of your praise, sinking into you. 

his enormous body looms above you, lowering himself on your ass, straddling your thighs and holding onto the edge of the lounge chair for extra balance. your whines are extremely loud, nails digging into his forearm that chokes you, his heavy dick fucking you deep. 

“you’re so damn adorable, i love handling you,” with every thrust he’s grunting by your face, his sharp hips hitting the flesh of your ass, recoiling from every harsh pound. “did all that shit jus’ to tell me you like fuckin’ me. you like being ‘round me. i told you that shit earlier, angel.”

your pussy’s throbbing so badly for him, tiny squeals pouring from you as his thick dick engulfs you, toji fucking you faster the more noises you make. they drive him insane, driving his dick deep, strokes steady but rough. his big body trapping you beneath him, strong muscles encasing you.

“ooo, f—uck baby,” you gasp for air as toji tightens his grip around your neck, your vision going blurry, eyes rolling into the back of your skull from how good he’s fucking you right now. the minor strangulation courses through your body and aims right for your clit, his voice by your ear and his heavy drops making you lose your mind.  

your hands claw at the fabric of the sunlounger, gripping onto it tightly as toji fucks you, dick sinking into your pussy over and over again. each thrust sends waves of pleasure rippling through your core, intensifying the sensations already coursing through your veins.

“let daddy know if he’s too rough.” 

toji’s voice becomes more primal, his words becoming indiscernible as he focuses solely on driving his dick into your quivering pussy, breathing erratically. 

“fuck no, want you rougher,” you grin sheepishly, slurring your words. 

you love how rough he is with you, never holding back when he knows you really need it. begging for it will give it to you every time. every slap of skin on skin, every grunt and groan from toji sends another wave of ecstasy crashing through your body again, clenching and pulling on his dick as if he’d let go. toji hisses, releasing his arm from your neck to spank your ass.

“yes baby, yes yesyesyes —agh fuck.”

“yeaaa, that’s it, angel. keep cryin’. dick got you cryin’ so good. fuckin’ love that shit. mmmm.” 

your gasps come out like weak shudders, lips quivering as you whine and scream. 

“fuck, girl. you’re so fuckin’ needy,” toji is stunned by how sensitive you are. your cries are a surprise, yet he’s turned on. liquor turning you into the neediest girl. 

toji bends down to give you his face, draping your arm around the back of his neck to keep his skin on your back, the prickles of heat comforting you. lips melding together in a desperate share of pleasure. 

“fuck me more.” 

toji manages to let out a chuckle, slipping his dick out to pull you down, laying you flat on your stomach while he hovers behind you. 

"takin’ that shit like such a good girl, aren't you?”

he starts to move, his hips driving forward relentlessly, his balls slapping on your thighs with each powerful thrust.

“your dicks s’so big, baby,” you whimper, feeling his girth stretching your pussy wide open, “i can’t . . you’re fucking me deep.”

you bite your lip, trying not to scream too loud.

“unh uh, you was doin’ all that screamin’ before. don’t stop that shit, girl,” toji grits his teeth, rolling his hips faster, each stroke hitting your spot with precision. 

the occasional muffled curse words slip out between bitten lips, squirting hard and with every clap of your ass back onto his veiny hips, you cover his abs with your slickness. your legs are shaking, tearing up as you cry and he refuses to let up his rough pivots. 

“f-fuck, baby, you’re mine. you’re mine, daddy,” you declare, teary eyes scrolling back into your head from every harsh pound. nobody else can have him, you fucking refuse. 

“am i yours?” he teasingly asks, sweat building up on his forehead, abdomen fluttering. 

“yes . . you’re mine,” you whisper with a pout, teary eyes scrolling back into your head from every harsh pound.

"i don’t think so, girl,” toji murmurs, his voice disapproving. "doesn’t seem convincing enough.”

“please toji, i’m yours,” you beg, tears streaming down your face as he continues fuck you harder. “yours, baby. yours.” 

your voice is barely above a whisper, words punctuated by gasps and moans as he fucks you senseless. you’re completely broken, utterly submissive to his will. toji laughs at your fervent declaration, feeling a sense of control, knowing you’ve completely given yourself to him. mind, body, and fucking soul. 

"swear it then," his voice firm.

he pulls out briefly before holding your ass apart to slam back inside with harder force than before, fucking himself deeper time and time again. you’re sucking him in so good he can’t help but throw his head back, adam’s apple strong in his throat as he hums, patting the side of your ass to watch you consistently squirt. 

“i swear!” you cried out, your voice breaking as he pounds into you, “i swear ‘m yours! ‘m yourss!” 

"good fuckin’ girl," toji rasps, his voice dripping with lust. "now lemme hear you scream that shit.”

“o-ohh god, toji!” you scream, your voice echoing the surrounding area. 

"that's right. want the whole fuckin’ villa to hear that pretty ass voice fucked out f’me,” toji growls, his voice low and menacing.

“fuck, toji!” you yell, voice raw and hoarse, entire body trembling harder than it ever has, legs going numb. 

you’re close, so fucking close, and you want it—need it, desperately. “tojiiii."

“tell me what you need, angel.” 

you arch your ass up to meet his rhythm, eager for more. toji grunts, picking you up to sit himself up on the chair, laying your back to his chest as he scoots down and holds you up by the backs of your thighs. your palms are flat on his chest behind you, tossing your head back as he fucks up into you, your tits bouncing roughly from every hard, greedy, steady pound. 

“thank you, thank you.”  

your words are punctuated by gasps and moans, toji stretching your pussy open around his girthy shaft. tears stream down your face as you cum for the final time, moaning and grinding your ass down when you notice toji’s getting weaker from rutting in you. his calloused hands are rough on your hips, grinding you back and forth as his eyes scroll back and he cums inside of you, panting heavily and leaning his forehead on your sweaty back. 

“fuck me.” 

toji kisses your back to soothe you, rubbing your stomach and gently laying you on his chest. he almost wants to laugh that you were drifting off to sleep, kissing your face before lifting you up to get you cleaned and put to bed.