#slvttyplum

the niche writer with fire writing!!

tumblr finally nerfed me unfortunately. my acct has been terminated and i sent in an appeal but idk when they will get back to me.

this sucks but i’m trying to remain positive so… yeah :)

oh, plum on! ✰ plummie ✰ twenty one

✰ black ✰ she/her ✰ istp- t. satoru’s wife and sukunas caretaker.

viewer discretion is advised: the following page contains material so nasty that you are guaranteed to leave wet. please be mindful as you go through this page. stay wet, bye! ꉂ(˵˃ ᗜ ˂˵)

✰ reqs open: hai ✰ 18+ ONLY ✰ nsfw & occasional sfw

“you are now connected to slvts.com, please select your slvt.”

✰ satoru

✰ choso

✰ toji

✰ suguru

✰ sukuna

I rules II m.list m.list 2 III disc.

kinktober I caard

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Synopsis: You, a princess of the Western Kingdom, the sole heir with arrangements made to be married with prince's from other lands sneak off as always only to walk into a place that sells peasants and slaves. To his surprise, you save him from a beating and buy him off!

Pairing: SATORU GOJO X FEM!READER

"A/N: This is my first time making a series on Tumblr and I'm still figuring things out. So please forgive me for my grammar and mistakes. It is inspired by a bot on C.ai made by Vxlyinn."

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As the sun rose, the day began. With maids and servants scattered around the castle, busy with their duties, she took her time inside her room, sitting at the old vanity mirror as she stared at herself. The jewel-like crown sat atop her head like a trophy, yet she didn’t feel accomplished at all. She should have been happy—born into royalty, living a lavish lifestyle, surrounded by riches and admiration—yet she was not.

She heard praise every day from visitors, the poor and ragged staring at her, wishing to replace her or even just taste her lifestyle. And she wanted to agree, to trade her lavish life for a poor one. Behind the gates, discipline and education were the only things that mattered. Her father, the King, wanted a son to take his place, yet received a daughter instead.

Growing up, she was quick to mature—to walk like a girl, act like one, and know when to be one. When she was younger, she would watch the little boys holding wooden swords and playing around. But when she tried to hold one, a stick struck her hand, disappointment obvious in her mother’s gaze. In her mother’s words, girls were petite, fragile, and obedient. Princesses were married off to other kingdoms for treaties, peace, and reputation.

Using the excuse of not feeling well, she removed the crown and shoved it into the vanity drawer before making her way to the enormous closet. Opening it, her hands shuffled between dresses, searching for the outfits she hid from the maids and her mother.

Pulling out a dress, she examined it. It was made of cheap fabric—the kind worn by the poor. She changed out of her puffy dress and into the rags, feeling far less suffocated than before.

She had already bribed the maids to keep her parents distracted, though she knew it hardly mattered; they rarely sought her presence anyway. Leaving her room, she slipped past the castle gates and entered the village that surrounded it. It was alive with movement—people passing by stalls, buildings open and filled with chatter.

Lost in thought, her feet carried her aimlessly until she halted, snapping back into reality at the sound of a whip. She realized she had wandered into a building. It was quieter, yet somehow felt crowded by what she saw.

People were chained to the walls, dirtied, dressed in ripped rags. Some cried, others scowled. But one person in particular caught her attention—hair white as clouds, eyes as blue as the ocean, skin pale yet covered in bruises and old wounds.

Her eyes widened as a thick stick was raised at him, one that looked strong enough to break bone. She rushed forward, stopping the man before he could strike.

The chained man watched her, then mumbled something into the owner’s ear. The owner began to argue until she shoved something into his hand, silencing him immediately.

The owner left in a hurry, signaling for the guards to unchain him. He rubbed his sore wrists, then looked up at her, blue eyes studying her as she turned toward him. He narrowed his gaze when she crouched down, reaching out to gently wipe grime from his face. He pulled back quickly, distrust clouding his expression as he stood.

“No need to touch me,” he grumbled, uneasiness sharp in his voice. She let out a quiet laugh. The only reason he would be unchained was if he were being moved or bought. The latter seemed likely as she was handed papers to sign.

He followed her out of the building, wincing at the sunlight as he adjusted to its brightness. “Where we going?” he asked, voice hoarse as he trailed behind her, noticeably taller. She hummed in reply.

“My home,” she said, walking with graceful posture—an odd contrast in a place filled with people of low status. “Should I call you Gojo or Satoru?” she asked, slowing down to walk beside him instead of ahead.

“Don’t care. Your choice,” he muttered, his eyes drifting over the stalls they passed, curiosity replacing some of his wariness. “Do you want anything?” she asked. He immediately replied with a no.

They continued walking, approaching the castle gates. His confusion and uneasiness grew. Was she being kind just to mess with him? Why were they heading toward the castle? Was she someone important? Why had she chosen him out of everyone there?

The guards standing at each side of the gate bowed as they entered, only confusing him further. Inside, people they passed bowed—not to him, but to her. The realization slowly sank in.

Was she the princess? And why in the world was she dressed in rags?

The two walked down the long marble halls of the castle, the echo of their footsteps the only sound between them. Servants bowed as they passed, though they dared not raise their heads long enough to question why the princess walked beside a bruised, rag-clad stranger. Gojo kept his gaze forward, shoulders stiff, uneasiness clinging to him with every step deeper into the palace.

She briefly glanced at him—tired, filthy, tense—and quickened her pace.

“This way,” she said softly, pushing open a pair of ornate doors carved with lotus patterns. Warm steam curled out from within, carrying the gentle scent of herbs. It was the bathhouse—quiet, empty, lit by lanterns that reflected across pools of clear water.

Gojo froze at the entrance, eyes narrowing. “You’re… letting me use this?”

“You need to clean up,” she said. “And rest.”

He stared at her like she was speaking a foreign language.

She guided him inside, gesturing toward one of the private bath sections divided by tall wooden shutters. “Go behind there. No one will see you. I’ll stay on the other side so you have privacy.”

He hesitated, almost suspiciously. “You’re not… leaving?”

“No,” she replied, settling behind the shutters, her voice gentle but firm. “We need to talk.”

He didn’t move at first, then reluctantly stepped behind the screen. She heard the faint rustling of fabric, the quiet hiss of water as he washed away layers of dirt and blood. For the first time since entering the village, she allowed her shoulders to relax.

“So,” he began, voice echoing slightly in the tiled room, “why’d you buy me?”

She inhaled slowly. It was the question she knew would come.

“I bought you,” she said carefully, “because you were going to be hurt. Or worse.” She paused, fingers tightening in her lap. “And because… I thought you deserved freedom.”

A splash of water sounded—small, as if he had turned toward the shutters.

“You don’t even know me,” he muttered.

“I don’t need to know you to know that no one deserves chains,” she replied.

Silence hung thick for a moment. Then he asked, “So what do you want in return? People don’t do things for nothing.”

She shut her eyes.

“I want to escape.”

Gojo stopped moving.

“…Escape?” His tone was unreadable.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “I don’t want to be a princess. Not anymore. I bought you because you looked strong, capable… and because I need someone who isn’t loyal to the crown. Someone who doesn’t see me as a royal. Someone who might help me leave this place.”

A long pause.

Water dripped lightly back into the pool.

Then Gojo exhaled—a tired, humorless sound. “So you bought me to… what? Be your guard dog?”

“No,” she said quietly. “To be someone who walks beside me. If you want to.”

He didn’t answer. But she heard the water move again—slower, calmer this time.

After a minute, his voice came softer.

“You’re strange,” he muttered.

She smiled faintly. “I’ve been told that.”

She heard him step closer to the shutter, the faint shadow of his figure visible through the wood.

“I don’t trust you,” he warned.

“You don’t have to. I just need time.”

Another pause.

Then, grudgingly—

“…Fine. I’ll listen. For now.”

It wasn’t agreement.

But it wasn’t a refusal.

Days passed, and the castle grew used to the presence of a white-haired stranger.

At first, Gojo felt like a ghost drifting through gilded halls—watched by guards, whispered about by servants, bowing to no one. But she stayed close, guiding him through each unfamiliar corner like he belonged there.

And slowly, he began to.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30

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BTS: Gojo: Why can't I be the prince and you be the peasant? I'm more stunning than you! I can be those hot prince's that save sad girl in danger. You: You're a man-child and it would be more satisfying seeing you below me.

Gojo: What? ✦⋅───────────────⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───────────────⋅✦

A/N: Thank you for reading! :P I'll make a part 2 soon, I'm quite lazy so my uploads will be random.

Fantasy: Satoru Gojo x Fem!MC x Royomen Sukuna (Series)

Chapter - 1: MIND - 1

Précis: Spilling of their ownership adoration is too much for you- too deep in you; can you bear it all? you are a good sorcerer right? no way will you leave your duties all because...things got too 'physical'? right?

Lovin': Fem!SorcererReader, dark twisted romance, grey-areas, suggestive and slight NSFW, love-triangle, imperfect-MC, high-tension, intense, sensory loaded.

Note: Do you like sensory depravation? do you like having your head empty? an intensity that makes you lost? An all devilish tempting darkness to indulge in? intimacy with backstory? well this is for you sweetheart

Word count:1.4k

plum making a serious post and not writing about fucking fictional men or women? i know i know settle down.

i just want everyone to know, i don’t like drama… that people involve me in. i like drama on my own accord, like arguing about gojo or something and saying i mog people.

i want my page to be fun, like you know what? go read about toji fucking you, or suguru fucking you, that’s what i’m here for, a safe place for not only you but for myself.

things have happened and i just wanted to address it before things spiral again.

that being said i won’t bring drama to my page or discord anymore because i want y’all to feel comfortable.

but if someone says something rude to me i will respond back, i can’t help it, i just won’t do it as much.

i love you all, thanks for supporting me and my writing

“black-“ FOLLOWED