Little Lunch Mishap - S. Gojo X Reader

little lunch mishap - s. gojo x reader

contents: fem!reader (called mom/momma), mentions of eating, gojo sucks at packing lunches for his kids, written a little after gojo finds megumi and tsumiki

when gojo first met megumi, he’d made sure his infinity was on; he had you and shoko throw random things at him from across the field with and without cursed energy to make sure it worked properly. now, two years later, he doesn’t even realize that it’s off around the seven-year-old kid—not until megumi nails him in the face with an unripe clementine.

“ow!” gojo exclaims, bringing his hand up to his cheek as he lets his sunglasses clatter to the floor. “what was that for, megs?”

megumi glares at gojo, holding a softer and riper clementine in his grasp. you glance over at them from the kitchen as they stare each other down.

“that was the fruit you put in my lunch,” megumi grumbles as he sinks his little fingers into his ripe clementine. “i know you packed it ‘cause mom normally peels them for me.”

“okay,” gojo starts as he leans over and picks up the clementine megumi threw at him, the skin split and the sticky juice dripping all over the tiled floor and his hands. he places the ruined fruit on the counter, bending over again and picking up his sunglasses. “momma had a mission this morning, so me—your amazing and awesome dad—packed your lunch and tsumiki’s,” gojo says with gritted teeth, putting unnecessary stress on the word ‘dad’. “and by the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “tsumiki ate all of her’s.” gojo puffs his chest triumphantly, settling his glasses back onto his face.

you glance at tsumiki as she does her homework, stifling your laughter when a small grimace washes over her features.

“was it that bad?” you ask her in a quiet whisper, making sure gojo and megumi don’t hear you.

tsumiki looks up at you and nods, “satoru made us sandwiches but i think he used the bread that you told him to throw out; it was kind of moldy.” she takes in your wide eyes and adds: “i didn’t eat it, i threw it away.”

you let out a relieved sigh, turning back around to pick up a plate of sliced apples and a cup of peanut butter. you place it down on the kitchen island next to tsumiki as she thanks you. megumi finishes shoving his peeled clementine in his mouth, passing the peel off to gojo as he takes a seat next to his sister.

“are you making lunch tomorrow for school?” he asks you, picking up an apple slice and taking a bite out of it.

you hum in response, scooping out some marshmallow fluff fruit dip you’d made a few days ago. you set it in front of gojo who begrudgingly reaches over and takes an apple slice. you stop megumi from slapping the fruit out of gojo’s hand.

“hey! it wasn’t that bad,” gojo insists through a mouthful of apple. megumi looks at him in disgust. “you had veggies, fruits, and a main meal! i even packed a snack in there!”

you sigh, “‘gumi, what did satoru pack you?”

megumi wipes his hands on a napkin as he looks at you. he makes a point to swallow before speaking. “an unripe clementine, a whole unpeeled carrot from the garden with its top still on, a moldy sandwich, and a family sized bag of skittles.” he swings his feet back and forth under the kitchen island, “i ate the carrot.”

you glance at satoru who reddens at megumi’s words, “okay… tsumiki, what was in yours?” you turn your attention to the little girl who sits next to megumi.

tsumiki glances at gojo in sympathy, “a moldy sandwich, a whole avocado, a green tomato that he picked from the garden even though megumi said it was unready, and a chocolate bar.” she looks at you with a smile, “i ate the avocado. i also had a square from the chocolate bar.”

you frown as you turn back around and pull out a bag of bread and an open bag of chips. gojo watches as you easily slather two slices of bread in peanut butter and strawberry jam, slicing it diagonally and placing the pieces on two different plates. you dump a generous amount of chips on each plate before placing them in front of megumi and tsumiki. you turn around and pick up the marshmallow fluff dip, sliding it into the fridge and shutting the door with your hip. gojo unabashedly stares at your ass when you bend over.

“okay, satoru,” you sigh as you turn towards him. he looks up at you with bright eyes, smiling into his palm. his glasses are on the counter. “from now on, you’ll take my morning missions and i’ll make their lunches.” you watch from the corner of your eye as megumi eagerly eats his chips and sandwich. “and you’ll throw out the bread when i tell you it’s gone bad.”

gojo drops his head on the counter. “you know, you’re so pretty, baby.” he looks up at you through his lashes, batting them intensely. “i’m truthfully so lucky to have you in my life.”

you look at him blankly. “and you’ll be doing the dishes for the next two weeks.”

“WHAT?”

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

Starved (Sanji x GN!reader)

🍴CW: angst (with a happy ending of course 😌), swearing.

🍴Brief description: after several days spent unconscious in the infirmary, reader sneaks into the kitchen where they get caught by Sanji who has waited for them to finally wake up.

(with honorable appearances of the other strawhats ✌️ didn't plan to include anything like that?..it just happened?...and I ended up liking it A LOT ahdshgajd)

Just in case: longer parts of text fully in italics like that signal flashbacks!

Enjoy!

The light flickered on.

Shit. Maybe you still had a second or two to flee before the lamp’s unsteady twinkle would turn into a blinding beam. 

There was nowhere to flee, though, with the kitchen’s exit now apparently blocked with someone roused, just like you, by nightly hunger.

Or so you hoped. You really hoped it was that. Otherwise-

The flicker steadied into a dim, orange shine of a lamp in the need of change. The fridge, the door of which you were currently holding onto with a white-knuckled, scared grip, beeped softly, signalling for you to either finally take something or leave, but not before remembering to close it.

You froze. Whoever was behind you did the same.

Shit.

It definitely wasn’t Luffy (too quiet, and for way too long), definitely wasn’t Usopp (night duty), definitely wasn’t Zoro (you would’ve already heard the confused ‘huh?’). Definitely not Nami or Chopper (they would’ve already thrown a fit, though with varying volume and apparency of worry present in their voices).

So. 

You turned around, painfully slowly. Literally painfully, your bruised ribs seemed to creak just as loud as your neck.

Sanji stood rigidly still in the doorframe with his hand on the light switch. A cigarette hung from his mouth, still burning, a single soft sigh away from falling tip-down onto the floor. Some of the ash dropped, impatient for a helping hand.

Sanji made no move. Didn’t voice any of the thousands of things flashing through his mind. His brows went up and down, again up and down again, as if fighting the shock.

It was unnerving to watch. Unsettling. Unusual.

“Uh,” your voice, hoarse from disuse, scraped on the silence, just as crudely abrupt as the lights above. “Hello. Sorry, uh, I’m- I just-”

That seemed to bring Sanji back into motion, though the starved rumbling of your stomach stiffened him again into immobility.

God. Honestly, what the hell even..

You were hungry, so hungry. Starved. First unconscious, then half-conscious but unable to consume even a tiny crumb. And now, when you finally felt alive-

“I-

“Would you like to eat?”

Huh? 

“What?” this time it was you turned immobile.

“Would you like something to eat?” Sanji repeated. His hand, previously on the light switch, moved to push the cigarette further back into his mouth.

He stepped fully into the room, detached gaze on you. Too detached for the trembling hands in his pockets.

“I,” you glanced into the creak of the fridge door where barely anything at all could be distinguished. “Yeah. Yeah, a bit. Sorry, didn’t want to intrude like that.”

And you didn’t. You really didn’t. You just couldn’t hold any longer.

You hand’t eaten for days.

Sanji nodded, his hands slipping from his pockets to roll up his sleeves.

“Allow me to serve you some late dinner, then.”

“I could just grab something really quick myself, though, I wouldn’t want to-”

“Just let me,” the look he gave you from under his hair cut you short.

Just how exposed, how vulnerable it was.

“I waited so long to do this. Please, let me. ”

You stepped away, giving him space, moving backwards, almost falling into the chair. Your stomach rumbled again.

“Please, eat this, at least. It’s just a slice of bread, very-very thin, you won’t even feel it!” Chopper pleaded with you for the tenth, twentieth, maybe hundredth time, even. You turned away to face the wall, half-lucid but still flinching at the tiny doctor’s poorly contained sobs. Someone clicked their tongue behind the door. 

You wished you could eat. Just that slice of bread. Or an orange from the basket Nami had left on the nightstand before you even came to your senses. Or that weird sweet Usopp got in some equally weird shop from the latest town you visited. You wished you could just eat. 

“…thanks.”

“No problem.”

Sanji reached into the fridge to grab a few plates, carefully sealed with food wrap. Put them on the counter, removing it from each one. Your brows went up.

“We have leftovers?”

Sanji’s hands on the wrap stilled. He turned to look at you like he’d never done before. Careful. Bewildered. Immeasurably sad.

“You could never and would never give you leftovers,” he vowed, desperate for you to hear him loud and clear. “Ever.”

You felt sorry, so sorry because you still didn’t understand.

“Extras?”

“No,” he scrunched the wrap in his fist and threw it away; took out a pan, turned on the stove, put the content of  plate into it to re-warm them, even though you now had a microwave, too, from the latest town you visited. Usopp told you. At least you believe it was him, real him and not a dream or hallucination.

“It's the microwave the Gol D. Roger himself used! ” Usopp declared first with his chest puffed out, then deflated slightly from uncertainty after a moment. “At least the shopkeep told me so. But he seemed reliable, so there is no way it was made up! And it was pretty pricey, too, so there’s just no way it couldn’t be Rogers! ”

You didn’t answer, giving him the opportunity to carry on; you couldn’t have even if there was something to add or interject with. Just like you couldn’t eat. You were half-present, half-conscious. 

To yourself. To them you were half-dead.

Sanji nudged the pan up. The contents — rice, some shrimps, some greens — flew up and landed back.

“These are yours. Your portions,” he explained. “I made them this evening.”

”We had amaaazing fish today!“ Luffy threw his hands up, wildly swinging back and forth in his seat. “That weird one Sanji got from the market. He almost fought someone for it! It’s not as delicious as meat, of course, but I understand why he was about to kick some guy to have it! If you wake up now, or next morning, there’ll still be some left maybe. But I can’t promise, it’s just sooo tasty! So you need to wake up as fast as possible! It’s some rare fish we won’t find in this sea, at least Sanji said so.”

You didn’t wake up. You didn’t even hear him. You were too deeply out. Chopper made Luffy leave. There was still that fish left for you in the morning.

There really was no fish like that in the sea you were currently crossing. Sanji wished it'd been All Blue, so he could catch a dozen for you to try after.

“Every day I prayed you would wake up,” the cook put the dish back into the plate and started re-warming the second one. “I prayed you would, and you didn‘t.But what if one of these days you suddenly were? How could I possibly leave you starved? I wouldn’t deserve to be your cook if I would let something like this happen.”

You hunched your shoulders, flinching from the shock of pain going through you. You hoped Chopper was fast asleep; you weren’t supposed to get up yet.

“Sorry I didn’t wake up earlier.”

“Thank you for waking up today.”

Sanji placed the plates on the table, sat down across from you, put out his cigarette before lighting a new one right after.

You didn’t even thank him for the meal, viciously sinking your teeth into the food, not registering the taste at all in such a hurry for satiation. 

You didn’t notice Sanji’s gaze never leaving your face, a disturbingly distant look taking over his eyes.

“The hell are you doing here?”

“Napping.”

“Didn’t know you napped with your eyes open. That a swordsman thing? So you could see your foes sneaking on you from under an infirmary bed?”

“Piss off.”

Sanji leaned on the doorframe, taking a cigarette out of his mouth to hide it behind his back. His other hand held a plate with freshly made food.

“Asleep still?”

“Yeah.”

Sanji exhaled, tapping the ash off automatically without putting much thought into the action. He wasn’t going to make another drag until he left the room. 

Zoro tipped his head. Not turning, his eyes still on your motionless form. Just like Sanji‘s. 

“There‘s no room for any more food here. I‘ll come up when there‘s need for it.”

“There’s a great chance you‘ll get lost on your way, so I‘d rather come by and check myself. ”

“Piss off. ”

“You used that already.”

“Eloquence isn‘t my priority right now,“ Zoro snapped without heat, raising a bottle of booze Sanji didn’t notice from behind his hulking, sulking form.

“I‘m surprised you know the word for it. ”

”Fuck off,“ Zoro threw over his shoulder, chugging half of the bottle‘s contents in one go. 

Sanji left, wishing the same had happened with the food he’d made for you.

You stopped short when you realised you were scrapping of leftovers off the plate. 

You gingerly lifted your eyes to find Sanji staring right back at you. Now that was just embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you murmured, wiping your mouth with a sleeve, gently pushing the plate away. “That wasn‘t very proper of me.”

“Are you still hungry?” the cook asked. The fog of thoughts barely lifted from his eyes.

You swallowed. It wouldn‘t hurt, right? You couldn‘t probably embarrass yourself more.

“A bit,” you admitted, doing everything in your power to keep looking at him. Reaching into his mind. Asking him if it was still alright.

Sanji‘s seat scraped across the floor. He got up, turned around, pushed it back with his leg.

“Wait, please. I will make something ready in a minute.”

“Sanji-kun?”

“Yes, Nami-san, my dearest?”

The redhead slipped a piece of paper across the counter. Sanji, currently preoccupied with making dinner, couldn‘t yet give it his full attention.

“What is this, Nami-san? A recipe you would like me to try? I will do anything you want, my love, but I‘m afraid I can’t check it myself right now. Could you read it aloud for me,please? If you don‘t mind, of course.”

“This can wait. It‘s not for me.”

Sanji shifted. Have you come to your senses? For how long? Were you lucid right then or was it brief?

“Not yet,” Nami admitted as if having read his very thoughts. “But I have a feeling it‘ll happen soon.”

Sanji nodded, turning back to his cooking, squeezing the pan‘s handle until it felt like it would burn through his skin to the bone.

A new plate with the treat Nami and you tried at a restaurant in that town you left a few days ago was now put before you.

“Hey,” you called with widened eyes. “Isn‘t that- How did you make it?”

Sanji didn’t answer. He went around the table, sunk to his knees before you and embraced you around your waist with shaking arms, careful not to disturb your injuries.

“Sanji?!“

”Don‘t do this,“ his shaking increased. His tears seeped through your bed clothes. “Please, never again. Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t be so reckless. Don’t do this, please, don’t do this to me again.”

You bowed you head down and hugged him closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his hair, caressing his shuddering back. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Promise me.”

“Promise,” you swore into the night and the days to come.

The door flew open, revealing a breathless, teary-eyed Chopper behind it. And the rest of the crew with him.

“I said I‘d come up if anything changed. Could‘ve waited, you jerks,” Zoro grumbled, a tired smirk spreading across his features as he talked.

That night the recipe from that scrap of paper was perfected through repeated servings. 

❦ GIYUU X PREGNANT!READER

cw: none, this is fluff, fem!reader

"you have a wife?!" sanemi yelled.

"you’re lying." obanai mumbled. "that’s sad."

"tomioka, how sweet!" mitsuri called.

giyuu’s eyes narrowed at rengoku, the bright man just smiled innocently.

"i had no idea they didn’t know," he sheepishly said.

as soon as giyuu got back from his mission, the flame hashira informed him that his wife was in the butterfly mansion. something had happened, and she needed to be taken to shinobu. unfortunately, rengoku wasn’t known for being quite—blasted eardrums will do that to a person—so the other hashira in the perimeter got to hear (for the first time) that not only was giyuu NOT single, he was MARRIED.

they ended up following him through the halls, pestering him with questions until they reached the room you stayed in. your husband ignored them like usual, the only thing on his mind being your well being.

his nerves were calmed, however, immediately upon seeing you laying in bed, a smile on your face as you chatted with shinobu.

"how are you feeling?" giyuu’s tone was soft as he blocked you from the prying eyes of the other hashira in the doorway. he made his way towards your side.

"tired." you smiled at him, letting your husband hold your hand and run his thumb over your fingers. "shinobu said it was a false contraction."

"it was caused by stress," your friend’s calming voice said. "makes sense, tomioka, anyone married to you would be on edge."

your husband just grumbled at his friend as you giggled. he then helped you sit up in bed, the blankets falling off to reveal your pregnant stomach to the small audience watching.

"you had sex?!" sanemi screamed.

oblivious to the small mass of people staring at you, sanemi’s outburst startled you, causing you to grab onto your husband’s haori. he instinctively pulled you close, his soft look switching to a death glare towards the doorway.

"hush!" giyuu seethed at him, finally giving attention to the posse. "she’s nine months pregnant; shut up."

although listening and lowering his voice, sanemi didn’t let his question go unanswered. "you’re not a virgin?"

"go away," giyuu deadpanned. "all of you, go away. now."

"it’s okay, darling," you tried to soothe him. "maybe you should introduce me to your friends."

you felt him tense up at that. he didn’t let go of your hand, and he only moved half a step away from you (half of them still couldn’t see you), and he spoke with a monotone voice. "this is my wife, y/n. she’s pregnant with our first child."

the was no verbal reaction from the onlookers, just looks of disbelief from the four of them. it felt like you were an animal in the zoo with the way they were all staring dumbfounded at you.

it took a couple minutes for shinobu and rengoku to get the others out, leaving you and giyuu alone in the room. as soon as the door closed, your husband grabbed your face and peppered kisses all over it, causing you to giggle. he took a seat on the edge of the bed to be closer to you.

"i’m so sorry," he said, kissing your lips. "i’m sorry i wasn’t here."

"it’s okay, baby." you let your head rest on his shoulder. "i’m just glad i didn’t give birth."

"i would never forgive myself if i was gone for that." giyuu’s hand ran up and down your back comfortingly.

you sigh in relief, turning your head to place a kiss on his neck.

"well now that you’re here, let’s get this baby out of me."

Thanks for giving me ideas shitter <3

I love this

Yandere Emperor x fem reader

set in medieval times. usual warnings y'all should know the drill by now☺

Your kingdom was being invaded and everyone did what they could to save it but the invaders were too strong you watched so many innocent people being slaughtered by the invaders and the survivors were taken hostage including you.

These invaders were sent by the emperor who was a cold and merciless man until he met you~

You were taken into the magnificent palace where you were forced to work for the emperor's wife Imelda, she was an extremely insufferable woman and treated all of her servants like crap. It wasn't the best life, but it could be far worse but unfortunately Imelda and the Emperor were having a rough patch and rumors said he was having multiple affairs with other women, so she was worse than usual.

You were on your way to bring Imelda her breakfast when someone bumped into to you and that person just happened to be the emperor you looked up at him wide eyed and covered in Imelda's breakfast and apologized profusely while he just stared at you he didn't look angry all he did was stare at you as you quickly collected everything and bowed before you ran off but little did you the moment he saw you that nervous look on you face got him excited in a way that no woman including Imelda had ever done something about you just caught his attention.

You walked into Imelda's room to see her crying on the floor you asked her what happened an she totally lost it.

Imelda: That's none of your concern you pathetic slave your lucky to be here but remember your place and stay out it!!!

You then left not wanting to deal with her again. It turns out that the king had just gotten tired of her and sent her off which was great news for everyone since they didn't have to deal with her anymore. Naturally the Emperor had to remarry so he had many beautiful women come to the palace where he would choose his new bride due to you being a servant you had to assist the women being sent but the strange thing was that each time a woman was being presented, he glanced at you for every single one it was as confusing to the emperor as it was to you he was just drawn to you every time he saw you a wave of excitement and...love? came over him that he wasn't used to.

Eventually he chose a wife she was very beautiful and seemed like a very suitable wife, but he never got that feeling when he was around her. The emperor's wife whose name was Miranda was very kind and caring and even befriended you she was great in every possible way, but everyone could feel the emperor didn't love her so poor Miranda made it her mission to win his affection yet nothing worked so she slowly began to give up on his affection while u didn't have to try you started to see the emperor a lot more often and you noticed his cold crystal blue eyes following you as you cleaned and unbeknownst to you it took a great deal of strength to restrain himself from pouncing of you and making you his he would go feral on the inside when you bend down to clean in his bedroom it was embarrassing how you didn't even have to do much to make him hard.

Slowly the emperor tried to have you around more to ease his hunger like "accidentally" brushing his hand against yours or having you bend down to get his pen that he "accidentally" dropped. All he wanted to do was make you his to own every inch of you, but he restrained himself, but it got harder to each time almost as if you were teasing him.

Tell me if I should make a part 2 I'm tired rn

Stay hydrated and safe love Y'all