Chapter Text
Though Satoru Gojo had refused the offer of siring the replacement heir to the Zenin clan, the renewal of his acquaintance with the dowager queen had given him enough reason to look after her. He informed the interim clan leaders of a change of decision, stating that he would step in to attempt to produce the next heir when not otherwise called away by more important obligations, and in the early months following Naoya’s death, he came regularly to Y/N’s bedroom, staying for an hour and passing the time solely with pleasant conversation. At the close of the hour, the bedding was carefully disarranged to give the impression of its being used, the hair and clothes of each would be intentionally disheveled, and Gojo would depart for his next engagement.
The time together had allowed Y/N to know Gojo better than she had before, and this brought with it the consequence of budding feelings for the youthful governor which were becoming harder to suppress. She enjoyed their friendship as it was, and was supremely grateful to him for assisting in the postponement of her having to bear a child, but the more he showed himself to be of a kind and selfless character, one so substantially superior to Naoya’s, the more difficulty she had in disguising her feelings. She frequently caught herself thinking of the brief kiss they had shared, and when she did, her fingers would move reflexively to press against her lips as if the sensation of the kiss could be better recollected that way. Y/N did not believe Gojo’s feelings would ever be reciprocal, all too aware of the wall he had put up between them which forbid any kind of intimacy beyond the bounds of passive friendship, but that did not in itself prevent her own affections from deepening each time they saw each other.
Another secret was also being kept by the dowager queen. She had read the letter dropped by Gojo on the day of their walk through the maze, and learned from its contents that the former knight not only knew where Megumi Fushiguro had been placed into hiding, but that he was also was in current contact with the boy, acting as a steward from afar. Given that the search for Megumi was still in full swing, it was obvious Gojo had withheld this information from the clan leaders. It dawned on Y/N after thinking on Gojo’s reasonings for originally refusing the clan head’s request to bed her that he had done this to protect Megumi — to shield him from the abusive upbringing which would be a certainty amongst the Zenin. This act of merciful kindness increased her admiration for Gojo all the more, and on the first opportunity, she returned the letter to him, claiming not to have read it. They had spoken no more of it, and it seemed in the beginning that Gojo was regarding her with more suspicion, but when, after the first month, Megumi’s location had still not been revealed to those searching for him, Gojo’s attitude towards Y/N mellowed, becoming one which was not only more trusting, but also one which was almost affectionate.
Their relationship went on in this way, amiable but unchanging, until late one summer night. Gojo was meant to join Y/N in her room for another falsified attempt at conception, but he was greatly delayed, no word being given to explain his absence. She had waited up for him well past midnight in her room, the candles there burned down to stubs and the tray of sweets she had intended to share with the always-peckish governor having grown stodgy in the humidity of the room. She waited with a heart full of worry, pacing the bedroom anxiously as she mentally cycled through reasons he might have been delayed, the gravest of them being a that someone other than herself had discovered Gojo’s deception in helping to hide Megumi Fushiguro. No fearsome reputation could protect him from treason of that level if it were discovered. Unable to sleep, Y/N walked to the bedroom window, throwing it open and looking up at the starry sky with clasped hands as she prayed for those cold and steady stars to watch over the man she had come to love.
On that night, for the second time in her life, Y/N had her wish granted. While all the castle’s residents were slumbering, she alone heard a shuffling in the garden below her window, and saw within its greenery a tall figure bent over, moving haggardly amongst the rose bushes. The illumination of white hair under the moonlight left no doubt as to the who the figure was. To leave by the bedroom door, outside which two servants were posted, risked drawing attention to Gojo at a time when Y/N remained unsure whether his knowledge of Megumi’s whereabouts had been uncovered. From his ungainly movements however, it appeared that Gojo had been injured in some way, and thinking of nothing but her desire to see him, to ensure that he was safe and to lend whatever comfort she could offer, Y/N took hold of the top of the tall trellis outside of her bedroom window and began to climb down it, the skirts of her nightgown tied up around her waist to reduce the chance of them getting caught against the ivy-covered structure. If she were to fall from this high, it would surely be to her death.
Halfway through her descent, Gojo became aware of what Y/N was doing. It was rare for him to be surprised by anyone, but upon seeing her, the brilliant blue eyes widened, and a fear which had not existed for many years suddenly overtook him. To the best of his ability, he rushed towards her, his left hand pressed firmly into his abdomen, the palm of it becoming red and slick from the way the excess exertion aggravated the fresh wound on his stomach. When Y/N was only a few meters from the ground, the tie of her skirt came undone, the fabric catching on the iron trellis, and in an effort to free it, the young queen lost her grip on the metal, falling with a shriek towards the ground. If not for Gojo’s catching her, she easily might have suffered from a broken leg had she met the ground.
“Idiot, what are you doing!” Gojo was more upset than Y/N had ever seen him, and he berated her without setting her down. “If you’re going to run away, at least be smart about it! What the hell were you thinking?!”
Flummoxed and embarrassed, Y/N struggled out of Gojo’s grasp, and once she was standing again, she saw with horror the dark stain growing on the front of his clothes. Her frustration became as profound as his.
“What was I thinking?! I came out here because of you! What are you doing wandering around like that? You need to see a medic!”
Gojo flinched back momentarily, then straightened his wounded posture, forcing a calm expression. “What, for this?” he said, his bloodstained hand pressing against his injury to stimy its blood loss. “It’s nothing to worry about, so just go on back to bed now—”
“If it’s not serious, then let me see it,” Y/N demanded stubbornly, not believing for a moment Gojo’s nonchalant act.
A childish scowl formed on the Gojo’s face, irritated that on top of his own troubles, he was having to argue. “Don’t be a pest. If I say it’s nothing for you to worry about, then it’s nothing to worry about.”
“Like I’d believe that when you’re bleeding out right in front of me!”
“Please, it isn’t that serious,” he said, irritably rolling his eyes. “I’ve got a reputation to protect and it would be a problem if others saw me visiting a medic. I’ll take care of it myself, so go back to bed.”
“If it’s a problem to go to the medic, then let me deal with it— If you try to do it yourself, you won’t get the wrappings tight enough. You were already expected to visit me tonight, so it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Seeing that the young queen was insistent, Gojo glowered at her, reluctantly relenting to the request mainly so as not to linger out in the open.
As they snuck back through the castle, Y/N walked in front of Gojo, hoping to hide his injury from anyone they might come across, though thanks to his trained perceptiveness, they were able to evade the handful of guards positioned between the entryway to the garden and her bedroom.
Inside, Gojo seated himself on the ottoman at the end of the bed, stripping himself of his shirt to expedite the process. The wound was so garish that Y/N felt no shyness when confronted with the bareness of his toned chest, and without ceremony, she set to cleaning the injury, a concentrated frown on her lips throughout. The gash was jagged and harsh though not as deep as she had initially feared, and the skin appeared to have been ripped open by some a weapon crueler than a sword. The remnants of many injuries like it marred much of his skin.
“Who were you fighting tonight anyway? I thought you retired to be a teacher.”
Y/N was winding a bandage around his torso, watching with concern as blood seeped through the first layer of the wrap.
“That’s a part of being known for strength. You never retire as long as they can make use of you,” Gojo joked humorlessly with a smile the never reached his eyes. “It seems our neighbors to the south got the idea that it would be a good time to test our humble kingdom’s stability. I was just asked to remind them of their place.”
Y/N’s frown deepened, and she pulled the bandage tighter around him, causing Gojo to grit his teeth.
“What was that for?” he asked in annoyance, “That still hurts, you know.”
“Why do you have to talk like that? Like it’s nothing— You come back with an injury this bad, but all you can do is act like it’s no big deal.”
“Because it isn’t. Look at me! I’m fine,” said Gojo energetically, straining to smile.
Would moving not have upended all of Y/N’s work at bandaging him, Gojo would have gotten up and left then and there. The burden of dealing with other people’s emotions, something he had known he was severely inept at even before the dissolution of his relationship with the one person he had previously loved, was one of many reasons Satoru Gojo didn’t allow others to become close to him. His strength placed him in a category all his own, and from early youth, he had discovered that made it nearly impossible for him to relate to any other living soul.
“I don’t believe you.” Y/N was stricken. The hands which were wrapping Gojo clenched into trembling fists. “Lie to other people if you want to, but… That you think I would believe a fake smile like that— that I don’t know what it feels like to have your body used as a tool— it hurts to know you expect so little of me.”
“That’s what you think?”
Gojo looked down at the young queen in surprise, captivated by the earnestness he saw in her tender expression. The dim candlelight lent a gentleness to her features, and without knowing why, his fingers curled underneath her chin, tilting her face up to meet his gaze.
Y/N had completed the wrapping, and without that task to distract her, she found her frustration went out of her the instant Gojo touched her. Her mind was becoming wholly occupied by thoughts of another nature — the sweet and unexpected touch of fingertips against her skin, the seclusion of the room that had housed her marital bed, and the disarming intensity with which those singularly blue eyes stared at her, as if within them was held all the depth and vastness of a cloudless sky.
“You think you understand me, is that it?” His voice was low and rough, serious in a way that was rare from him as he drew her chin upwards. “And how do you want me to repay that kindness?”
A flourish of color flowed into Y/N’s cheeks as his face moved nearer, the full lips that had kissed her months ago hovering in front of hers.
“I’m not asking anything of you…”
A lopsided smirk formed in those warm and inviting lips, the piercing eyes crinkling at their corners. “How magnanimous. But wasn’t it your wish for the next person you slept with to be someone you liked? Someone you were attracted to?” Satisfied with the way his words made her blush and stutter, he jerked her chin up more, so that their lips were so close they almost touched as he spoke. “As a special favor, I’ll grant that wish of yours too… Just this once.”
With a graceful strength, Gojo pulled Y/N up from the floor and against him, the two of them falling back against the bed in a locked kiss. His injury was no hindrance at all as Gojo rolled them over on the mattress, his bare chest pressing against the loose, ivory fabric of Y/N’s long nightgown. Far from being resistant, her fingers threaded through his short white hair as she returned the kiss passionately, the swell of emotion removing any sense of caution. There was an ache in Y/N’s heart at the promise that this was to be the first and only time they would lay together, the knowledge that even as his smooth tongue slid fluidly between her lips, he would never feel the same as she did, but the heady feeling of embracing that forever-untouchable man, one who seemed beyond the reach of any human being, and whom she had fallen in love with, was too much to resist.
Whatever Gojo’s emotional limitations were, they were no impediment to the physical effects of his touching hot, plush skin. His long-fingered hands slid up under the nightgown as his he lay over top of Y/N, something hard and wanting pressing into her inner thigh through her clothes. When he pulled away from the kiss he was panting, steaming puffs of intoxicating breath passing back and forth between them as Gojo kept her face caged in with one arm, his other hand tugging roughly at the hem of her nightgown.
“Take it off.”
A tremor of excitement passed through Y/N, as if every part of her body wanted to respond to his command, a gravity to his words which she could not fully explain. With ecstatic obedience, she lifted the gown over her head, her lace-trimmed, ivory underwear being the only thing which separated her from total nakedness.
Gojo sat back, his open mouth pressing into her against the outside of her panties, his straight nose beginning to nudge her open even through the fabric as he grinned against her swollen lips. Naoya had never done anything like this — he considered women’s pleasure to be disgusting in the same way that he considered women in general to be inherently filthy — but Gojo did not ascribe to that philosophy. He gruffly pulled the cloth aside before stroking the outside of Y/N’s puffy lips with one curled finger, his knuckle dragging up and down, coating itself in a wet sheen; a perfect mix of roughness and delicacy.
“You’re already this wet?” he asked, his voice heavy with desire, “I’m flattered…”
The flat of Gojo’s tongue licked broadly upwards, his thumb rubbing over her clit and his mouth opening, trying to swallow her whole as Y/N shook and tensed beneath him. His mouth was still breathing against her when his middle finger slid into her, curving upwards in a come-hither gesture that made her moan and bite her lip.
“Gojo!”
“Fuck, you taste good.” He gave a throaty laugh, removing his finger from her and cupping her cheek with the same hand so that a trail of her own wetness could be felt on her face. His eyes bore into her with their full intensity. “Call me Satoru when I make you cum.”
His hand slipped back along her body, his mouth once more latching onto her pussy as his two fingers pushed inside, working slowly and methodically. Gojo’s lips hummed as they kissed her clitoris, vibrating the sensitive flesh as he closed his bright blue eyes, savoring every gasp he brought out from her.
An itch was starting to build in Y/N, not one felt only in the skin, but in the muscle, in the blood. It grew each time Gojo’s fingers curled and pulled inside of her, each time his tongue swept over her. His short white hair lightly scratched her inner thigh with every perfect movement, and she was conscious of her voice becoming louder in its pleasured rumblings.
The itch kept building. Her hands twisted in the duvet she lay on top of, her back arching, and her legs flexing, as her body sought out every way to relieve itself until finally, Y/N broke with a high cry of pleasure, murmuring the name Satoru between effusive moans. She had never experienced an orgasm so intense, shutting her eyes tightly as tremors tore through her, and when she reopened her eyes, she saw that Gojo had stripped himself completely. The pink head of his impressive endowment was already at her entrance, parting the wet lips.
“You ready?”
There was all of his regular cockiness apparent in him as he spoke, but something else too; an eagerness not well concealed. Gojo was kept so busy by his employment that he rarely found the time to bed someone, and being so close to it now, when it was the first time, when it was someone so beautiful, when each touch was as exhilarating as standing exposed in an electrical storm, he could barely restrain himself. The pleading nod from Y/N was all the convincing he needed to push in, groaning as he did.
Gojo was bigger than Naoya, and having been with her husband very infrequently before, Y/N was unused to the delightful stretch she felt then as Gojo fully sheathed himself inside of her. Any pain was mild, and in its own way added to the limitless pleasure which flooded her still undulating cunt as Gojo’s hips began to move rhythmically in and out, fucking her through a prolonged orgasm that put stars in her eyes. The only other thing she could make herself focus on was her lover’s reddened face, the gleaming, bright blue eyes squinted in pleasure, his panting mouth hanging open, and the vision of him blurring intermittently each time he thrust into her, rapidly picking up speed as she moaned for him.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunted hoarsely, his hips clapping against her with more force over and over again. “And you’re taking me so well!”
“Y-You too, you feel so—! Good—!”
“Good girl— So fucking good for me,” Gojo said, gritting his teeth as he thrusted. His mind was going blank as her spongy walls squeezed around him, pulling him in, and her body responded automatically to every syllable of praise. “Such a good fucking girl, showing me how you cum!”
At the strong tempo Gojo set, it was hard for Y/N to speak, more so when Gojo’s thumb rubbed over her clit again, his hand anchoring itself against her hip as he bucked faster and faster, losing himself to her in an uncontrollable way he hadn’t felt in ages. He was getting close, faster than he had expected to, but he wanted to hear that breathy voice cry ‘Satoru!’ one more time before he finished. Still sensitive from her recent orgasm, it took little effort for Gojo to bring Y/N to another, sharper peak. The way her tight body convulsed around him was enough to break what remained of his self-control, and with the last of his strength, he pulled out. His body crashed against hers as he held her tightly to him, moaning in her ear and shooting jets of hot cum between them so that it stuck in sticky puddles between their flush stomachs, soiling the bandages that had so recently been placed on him. He smiled to himself. Somehow he doubted she would mind cleaning him up again.
They lay in an embrace, breathing heavily against each other as Gojo nestled his face between her breasts, kissing the moist skin as he gradually returned to himself. He had said it would be a one-time thing, but listening to Y/N’s thumping heart, hearing in its beat the voice that had so exquisitely called out his name, he realized defeatedly that he had been lying.