- a unicorn -

“Can I see what’s underneath your blindfold?” you asked softly.

It was random, but the thought had always lived quietly in the back of your mind.

Gojo looked up from his phone, brows lifting slightly. “What?”

He was sitting across from you, leaning against the headboard, one long leg stretched out as he pretended he hadn’t just been caught off guard.

You laughed, a little embarrassed. “You don’t have to if it makes you uncomfortable.”

You had always known of Satoru Gojo, but now that you were actually enrolled at Jujutsu High—actually around him—the curiosity only grew. Especially in moments like this, when it was just the two of you, sharing silence over open textbooks and scattered notes.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” he said. “It’s just… no one’s ever been bold enough to ask me that.”

“Really?” You shifted onto your knees. “I’d think everyone would want to know.”

Gojo shrugged, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Most people don’t take the time to really ask.”

Your heart skipped a beat, there was no denying that Satoru Gojo was breathtaking. Even the smallest of his gestures made something restless stir inside you.

“C’mere,” he said, waving you closer. “You can take it off.”

For half a second your mind betrayed you, and you shook the thought away quickly, cheeks warming. You crawled over toward him, stopping when you were close enough that your noses almost brushed.

Your hands trembled as you reached up, carefully pulling the white bandages down his face — slowly, reverently — until they slipped past the bridge of his nose.

A soft gasp escaped you.

His eyes were impossibly blue. Not just bright — luminous, like pieces of the sky had been trapped inside them.

His smile widened at your reaction.

“They’re so beautiful,” you whispered, your hand lifting to cup his cheek. Your thumb brushed his skin as if to make sure he was real. “How are they even that blue?”

He let out a quiet laugh, tilting his head down a little, suddenly shy. “I don’t know.”

You lightly swatted his arm, grinning. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m not embarrassed about that,” he said, lifting his gaze to meet yours. His expression had changed — softer, heavier. “I’m embarrassed about my thoughts.”

You hesitated, pulling back just a little. “What thoughts? You want to murder me or something?”

“No.” His voice dropped, warm and honest.  “I really want to kiss you right now.”

The words hung between you, heavier than either of you had expected.

You really want to kiss me right now.

Your breath caught. For a moment, neither of you moved. Gojo’s hand hovered at his side like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to reach for you, and you stayed frozen, heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“…You don’t have to,” you whispered.

“I know.” His voice was gentle, not teasing for once. “I just wanted to be honest.”

That somehow made it worse.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not saying no.”

His eyes softened, something unguarded flickering across his face. Slowly, like he was afraid you might disappear, Gojo lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles against your cheek. The touch was feather-light, a question more than a claim.

You leaned into it before you could overthink.

That was all the permission he needed.

Still, he didn’t rush. He leaned in inch by inch, close enough that you could feel his breath, close enough that the world felt too quiet. His forehead rested lightly against yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.

You shook your head.

So he kissed you.

It was soft — hesitant — like he was afraid of breaking something precious. His lips barely brushed yours at first, a careful test, before lingering just a little longer. When you kissed him back, his breath stuttered, and his hand came up to cradle your face as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long.

The kiss deepened, slow and tender, all unspoken longing and gentle warmth.

When he finally pulled away, his forehead stayed pressed to yours.

“…Yeah,” he whispered, smiling faintly. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

a/n: thank you for all the love on this story! i love you guys so much🥹

You had argued again.

Something stupid, something small, something that shouldn’t have mattered. But Satoru had been tired, stretched thin, and for once he’d let irritation win.

“Fine,” he had snapped, slipping on his blindfold. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

You’d said his name softly, reaching for him. But he’d stepped away.

The last thing he heard before the door closed was your sigh.

And the last thing you heard from him was silence.

The mission should’ve been easy. Routine. Nothing he couldn’t handle half-asleep. But the whole time, the echo of your voice; hurt, quiet, disappointed, kept threading through the back of his mind.

When he finished, he didn’t even wait for cleanup. He just teleported straight home, half-ready to apologize, half-ready to pretend he wasn’t shaking from guilt.

“Sweets? I’m back,” he called out lightly.

No answer.

He frowned. “Hey, don’t tell me you’re still mad. I brought—”

Then he felt it. A smear of energy. Faint. Wrong.

His heart stuttered.

“No.”

He moved through the house in a blur, feet silent, breath shallow. Every step deeper felt like walking underwater. Heavy. Slow.

He found you in the entryway.

Collapsed near the very door he’d slammed hours earlier, as if you’d run to greet him and never made it far enough.

“Hey,” he whispered, dropping to his knees so fast the floor cracked beneath him. “No, no—this isn’t—don’t do this.”

There was blood on your hands. Not much, but enough. Too much.

His fingers hovered above you, trembling violently. He could fix things—anything—if he just stayed calm. If he focused. If he tried harder.

But he couldn’t find your cursed energy. He couldn’t find you.

“Sweets… c’mon. Open your eyes.” His voice broke, splintering into pieces he couldn’t pick up. “I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t—I wasn’t leaving like that. I was coming back to you. I always come back to you.”

His forehead dropped to yours, his whole body folding in on itself.

“You can’t do this. You can’t leave me like this. Not when my last words to you—” He choked, unable to finish.

The world’s strongest sorcerer wasn’t strong enough to lift you. Not yet. Not like this.

So he held you instead, arms shaking, breath unsteady, the house too quiet around him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into your hair, voice shredded. “I should’ve told you I loved you. I should’ve—god, I should’ve stayed.”

The curse was long gone. But Satoru Gojo stayed there on the floor, holding you long after the warmth left your skin.

Because he had finally learned the one thing he was never meant to:

Your marriage was arranged, the two of you didn't share much and by all means you didn't see him at all because of his work. You slept in different rooms and didn't give in to the pressure of your clans for an heir.

Satoru wasn't a bad husband. He was just a stranger.

But you didn't blame him for freezing up at the sight of the divorce papers.

Because honestly? For you, divorce was social suicide. Your clan would never forgive you. If it was that easy, you wouldn't have had to marry him in the first place.

"What does this mean?" he just came back from work, earlier than usual, still in his sorcerer uniform. He took of his blindfold, his blue eyes inspecting the paper. His white hair fell in his face making you want to brush it behind his ear.

God, you hated yourself for this.

Satoru looked at you with these eyes and for the first time you saw actual hurt in them. There was none when you stopped him on your wedding night, telling him you weren't ready for sex, none when you slept in a different room.

Because he knew what this divorce meant for you. Dishonor to your family. Most likely getting disowned.

"I want a divorce, Satoru."

He went quiet again. His eyes going back to the paper.

To be honest, you never thought of divorcing him when you were newly wed. Not just because of the consequences but also because Satoru was never bad to you. He was even really kind for someone forced into this.

But then you saw her.

It was a usual Clan meeting with several little and big sorcerer clans. She stood close to him, he seemed more comfortable than he was ever with you. You didn't even know her name. Didn't know anything about how he felt towards her. But you saw the way they looked at each other. How she giggled at his words.

You didn't think Satoru was cheating on you. And that was the thing. With you in the picture he would never be able to get with who he really wants.

You couldn't stand a life with a man who would slowly start to despise you because you ruined his life.

"Why?" his voice was small, hoarse. He didn't look at you, his eyes onnly focused on the papers, on the word 'divorce'.

"It's for the best." you stood up to make yourself a cup of tea.

"For the best?!" a strained laugh left his lips. "What do you mean?"

"Please, Satoru." you tried to calm him but you saw him shaking his head.

"Stop it, I can demand an explanation when you are practically saying you would rather be disowned than be married to me. Just tell me what I did!" his voice got louder, making your frame flinch.

"Why does it matter?" the picture of her was in your head. You didn't know why.

"Why does it matter? Are you serious?"

"Yes, why?" you paused, scoffing. "It's not like we married because of love."

He went quiet after that.

No, you did know why you thought of her. Because you were jealous. Jealous, that another girl got to talk to Satoru Gojo more than his wife. Jealous and insecure because you did want to know him.

"Why are you saying that?" his voice hoarse and suddenly much closer to you.

"It's true. You don't love me so why stay married?" you muttered as you stirred the hot water.

"Stop saying that." his head dropped on your shoulder. "Please."

You froze. The feeling of his head overwhelming you.

"I know it's hard for you, I've met your family b-but-" a sniffle. "But I really am trying to make it work. I thought it was okay for you. I thought you were okay."

Satoru was crying.

Satoru was crying.

You kept silent, overwhelmed by his reaction, by everything right know.

"Please just tell me."

Silence.

"Is it because of my work?"

"No, it's not." your voice was muffled.

"Is it..." he paused. "Because you found someone else?"

Your eyes widened at his words, suddenly speechless.

"Is it? Is that why you are saying all that stuff? I understand, but please just be honest-"

You couldn't help it you started laughing. And you knew it was cruel, Satoru was crying on your shoulder, but the situation of him thinking you loved someone else was just so absurd to you.

"Me?" You shook your head softly your laughter suddenly dying. "No."

"Then what-?" he stepped back collapsing into a chair. "Please just tell me." he repeated his voice breaking at the end.

"It's just-" you sighed, trying to relax your suddenly stiff body. "I don't want to keep you away from your happiness."

"What?!" his voice was loud again, making you focus on your cup of tea again. After he saw you flinching again, he lowered his voice trying to stay calm. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know."

"I don't."

"That meeting a couple months ago, I saw."

"What did you see?"

"Saw how you looked at her."

God, you wanted to die. It was so hard to speak right now. Every word felt like torture.

"And I don't want to stand between the two of you, just because you were forced into this."

Satoru kept silent after that. You felt his gaze burning into your head as you looked down at your tea.

"So please, just get it over with." you sniffed. Shit, when did the tears come?

Satoru stood up again, making his way over to you. And as he stood there, looking too into your tea, his arms slowly wrapped around you.

"I don't even like her."

"What?" you looked up, his face was suddenly only a couple of breaths away.

"I don't. And if that's the reason why you want to divorce me, could you please talk to me before falling into a overthinking spiral? You're torturing me here."

You blinked at him, stunned by the realization.

"If you really are unhappy with me I would understand, I would prefer to fix things, but I would understand. But I won't divorce you because of your self sacrificing tendencies."

You blinked at him again, starting to blush out of embarrassment. Shit, was this a big misunderstanding?

"You sure you really don't like her?"

"Yeah. I've got another crush you know." he sighed, his voice still strained from the crying. "She is really pretty but really hard to figure out even though I'm married to her."

Now you really blushed, your eyes widening more than you thought was possible. "What?"

"Yeah, it's kind of embarrassing really." he took your cup of tea and placed it on the counter next to you, to pull you really into him. "I have this big crush on my wife, how do I tell her?"

You were malfunctioning as he layed his head on your shoulder again, this time not out of frustration but because of the desire to be as close as possible. His whole frame hugging you.

"She has this soothing voice and pretty smile, but I hardly get to see her and I don't want to make her uncomfortable."

"Satoru, what-"

"And she keeps this distance, I don't know what to do because I want to get to know her for real, you know? Want her to like me and you know."

You felt a soft smile.

"Want her to ask for cuddles when I get back from a long mission. Or even better a ki-"

"Satoru are you drunk?" you were red and hot, you felt it.

He was grinning as he looked up, but there was something so vulnerable in it. "No, I'm not. I just-"

He sighed. "I don't want a divorce. And maybe it's selfish of me, but I want to know you. And I want you to know me."

You held you breath after that. And after a bit of hesitation you did wrap your arms around him too.

"Me too."

His arms held you tighter after that. "You don't want a divorce?"

"You aren't divorcing me?"

"No."

Guess that divorce wasn't happening.

The increase in fics I've seen where the writer is just like "well it's how I write so scroll if it bothers you"

Satoru is the type of guy to absentmindedly play with your pussy whenever he’s bored.

You’re lying on the couch, spooning with him and watching a movie? Expect him to dip his fingers into your pants and rub your clit for the entirety of it. He doesn’t even do it out of lust or perversion, it’s almost like a habit to him now. The tips of his fingers brush over your nub, rubbing it ever so softly, occasionally pinching it slightly. It’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he’s so casual with it, it almost seems like he isn’t even doing anything nasty at all.

And poor you, struggling to focus on the movie that did seem kind of promising, because he just had to start toying with you again, soaking your panties and shorts—and you’re sure the couch’s got a damp spot as well.

You’re writhing subtly, his fingers never really pressing down harshly, just tracing soft patterns on your clit like he’s stirring the spoon in his coffee. Neither of you say anything, nor do you try to stop him. It felt so good, you just wish he’d do it when you’re not trying to watch a movie.

He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that you came, simply continuing to circle your clit like some sort of fidget toy. Your legs start to tremble at around the halfway mark, even if he was only lightly touching your poor, puffy clit, it was still enough to be so incredibly overstimulating after your third orgasm.

When the credits roll you don’t even know what the plot of the movie you were watching was. “What a good ending. Did you like the movie, baby?”, he’ll ask, painfully unaware of the fact that no, you can’t like it—you couldn’t even pay attention to the movie. Only when he pulls his hand out of your shorts and notices it’s sticky with your arousal will he realize his question was kind of silly, and you’ll get an apologetic grin.

“Sorry. Watch it again?”

“Yeah, alone.”

Okay, so I just saw a tiktok saying "hey, ao3 is not tiktok. Do not censor words, especially in the tags." I stg people are losing brain cells. The tiktoker then proceeded to show an example of the tag they saw which was:

"s..cidal ideation"

I don't know who needs to, once again, hear this, but you are stopping the tagging system, and filtration system from working.

People censor words on platforms like tiktok to stop the algorithm from picking up their video and automatically taking it down or restricting it.

A tagging system works so that other people can easily filter the content they do and don't want to see. So if some had "suicidal ideation" in their filtered tags so that they won't see things containing that subject matter, by censoring the word suicidal, you have now stopped the tagging/filtration system from working and now the individual is going to see content that they had made sure to filter out.

The Poison Garden

Established in 2005 by the Duchess of Northumberland. The garden contains over 100 deadly and hallucinogenic plants. 

’I wondered why so many gardens around the world focused on the healing power of plants rather than their ability to kill… I felt that most children I knew would be more interested in hearing how a plant killed, how long it would take you to die if you ate it and how gruesome and painful the death might be.’