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nanamiskentos · 7 months ago

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CREAM SODA — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → you've always known that gojo satoru is a real piece of work. arrogant, haughty. definitely has a praise kink for when people always call him 'the strongest.' but you're not even friends anymore, so this isn't any of your business...right?

what you didn't know is just how nasty he is, caging you in front of a mirror to lick away blood that he spilled from the veins of another man, one who dared to touch you.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. secondary love interest in the form of a random oc, jjk lore being mildly twisted, history around the world, in-jujutsu universe (not an au), gojo going feral and batshit bonkers, rough séx, créampíe, INSANE glass-shattering jealousy, hate séx but only a bit, brééding, oràl (f. receiving). enemies to lovers, former friends, PLOT AND WORLD BUILDING BTW this isn't pẃp, éxhibitionísm, mirror séx, overstímulàtion, bratty reader but with a reason to be a hater, working together on a mission, mentions of alcohol and the crime underworld, DEFINITELY a bit dark because reader goes through emotional whiplash, descriptions of a fight and heavy injury, biting because i always somehow write gojo as a vampire type of freak?? the PRIME example of the miscommunication tropes and a case where neither person is in the right...nuance is your friend here, fake bodyguard!gojo, reader wears a dress + makeup for a formal event, angst, hurt, lashing out, some comfort and fluff

excerpt: part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

you know there's going to be a bouncer at the doors, with your face printed on a photo titled: dni! fraud! liar! the world's most incompetent jujutsu sorcerer! would bounce into a criminal's bed at first chance!

word count. 22k!!!!!!! AURKAY!! song inspiration. cream soda — exo, is there someone else — the weeknd

a/n. spent way too long trying to learn ps for the header 😭 wrote this only because of the new grey suit gojo art <3 there's a secondary love interest in this for the ✨ plot ✨ but he's just a character i made up for this story. i would have used one of the other jjk men but it would made it into an au that i didn't feel like expanding on 😭

mp3.. feel that tinglin', that silky smooth cream, each swirl deepens the flavor, babe. baby, go dumb dumb!

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your fluttering pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

the dewy pads of his fingers have come down in a harsh arc, slapping right at your throbbing clit, and the jolt sends such an incredible crack of lightning down your spine that you're bucking your hips back up into his hand, back for more.

"some class? hah, 'm not able to do that now, baby," and you can feel gojo shudder under your touch, as you paw at the linen of his black dress shirt, raking your nails over his pectorals, "not when it f-feels like your pussy is about to, fuck, vacuum my fingers off."

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but it's hard to convey any sense of righteous fury like this. not when he's back to pushing the tapered ends of his long fingers in and out of your tight heat. each brush from the pads of his fingertips leaves you squealing, tugging at the snowy strands on the back of his head.

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

and you're squealing, shocked at how fucking bold gojo satoru has become, whining at how a sharp hiss pulses through you, and you can feel the warmth of blood beginning to bloom and pool over your collarbone.

"shit, 'm sorry, baby. so sorry. but i'm gonna need to see you l-like this," and suddenly gojo snaps away the pussydrunk babble falling from his candied mouth, and he's pressing a searing kiss to your jaw, and the air becomes hazy with the scent of an insanely expensive cologne, cedar and something...sweet, like cardamom.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

not when his thick arm is around your waist, handling you until you're smack bang between his legs, right between dark slacks. and gojo has shifted, so your back is flat against the hard planes of his chest, and your knuckles can only grip at the vanity sink. so your eyes can only see your naked torso twisting in the mirror.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

wait. you need to pause this tape, and do a little rewind.

how did you end up here, getting finger-fucked in a luxury five star suite? by the one man on earth that you swore that you could never stand?

(earlier that day)

the chandeliers had been shimmering overhead like stars, each fine crystal caught the golden light and scattered it across the grand lobby, and it was making your eyes flare and twitch.

this entire hotel felt frozen in time, some opulent relic of the roaring twenties, translated straight into tokyo's beating heart.

it was all so...pristine, and gaudy. and even the air carried that faint scent of hefty chanel no.5 and furniture polish.

but hey, this cheque wasn't coming out of your pocket, so who were you to complain?

that's how you rationalised it to yourself, right after a smartly-dressed waiter had floated past with a tray of shimmering champagne, one that you had easily helped yourself to.

ah, fuck it.

let the bill rack up on yaga's card. the least he could do after volunteering you to the higher ups for this mission.

a thick folder rested in your lap, clipped papers inside threatening to spill over from the sheer volume of information, that made your head spin.

of course, it was all courtesy of the jujutsu administration's obsession with drowning sorcerers in needless bureaucracy. and so you leafed through it idly, your thumb skimming over the crisp edges.

names, places, dates, all laid out in haphazard detail.

what a mess, it was a lot, but not enough to fill in the gaps that gnawed at you. the higher ups never gave you everything, fuck, they hated making it easy. still, your eyes caught onto key phrases.

urgent recall of cursed object. yes, that's why you were here. and not enjoying your saturday afternoon at home.

declaration of most expenses covered, in the instances of losing a limb. fair enough, insurance was honestly hell these days.

gain access to the auction being held by the voiceless. find their leader, naoki sato.

you knew of the voiceless, most higher grade jujutsu sorcerers did. a crime syndicate so shrouded in mystery. operating overseas for decades without so much as a cloudy whisper to the general public.

you made an unimpressed face as you kept reading, crinkling sheets under your fingers. smuggling, extortion, and a great deal of unexplained murders that would leave the cast of criminal minds scratching their heads.

how tasteless. still, you weren't the law, each to their own.

however, something made this case different. it made it your apparent problem.

for the voiceless were not your usual ragtag team of ruffian criminals, intent on scamming the vulnerable and sad.

their ranks comprised of wayward jujutsu sorcerers, with a hearty appetite for special artefacts, including cursed objects.

and now here they were, back on tokyo's soil, their hands covered with more than just the regular mundane crimes that could land a man behind bars for life.

you shifted in the plush, sinking seat. flipped to a page that had been practically painted in the most unforgiving shade of neon yellow highlighter.

ah, so this was the cursed object. raijin's amulet.

there was a grainy, slightly off-centre photograph clipped to the top of the document. the image was not much to look out, all washed colours and shadows that clearly didn't speak highly of the skills of whoever was behind the camera.

a circular pendant, a darkened forged creation of bronze and jade, covered in the soot of the ages gone by. spiralled with intricate carvings that reminded you of swirling storm clouds on a summer's evening.

and at it's centre sat a jagged shard of some precious golden stone, rough-hewn at the edges.

you were certain that this was the cause behind the distorted photography, for a modern camera was simply just not meant to capture such high levels of cursed energy.

there was even a faint shape of a dragon coiled around the pendant's edges, with its claws gripping the frame as if guarding it...or imprisoning it.

you weren't sure which. you're not sure you wanted to know which.

the accompanying notes were sparse, filled with frustrated gaps that left you squinting.

believed to be an ancient relic of the heian era. captured from the treasure hoard of the early medieval sorcerer, ryōmen sukuna, after his death.

huh, you hadn't heard that name since your school-days, back when you had poured over fraying history tomes, trying to pen the perfect essay to beat out suguru's flawless grades.

said to be imbued with the power of the lightning deity, raijin. capable of summoning and manipulating thunder, and disrupting various veils and curtains. last known location: the british museum, 1982. current location: unconfirmed.

clearly not an artefact meant to sit behind public museum glass.

dangerous in the wrong hands, and priceless in the hands of all. this must have been at least leagues above your current pay grade.

your thumb hovered over the corner of the page, bruising the white paper underneath as you scanned over the rest of the text, hoping and looking for a section that would be titled: and here's how to track raijin's amulet down and find it, with no bloodshed, and just in time for dinner!

no such luck.

"figures," you muttered under your breath, shoving the folder shut with a disgusted sigh.

this entire mission reeked of playing politics. for years, the voiceless had operated under the radar of other nations, disguising the tell-tale jujutsu as unexplained natural disasters and accidents.

there had been no intervention. they had been untouchable because no-one had the foreign jurisdiction, nor the guts to intervene.

but now, with the voiceless back on home soil, it seemed the higher ups wanted to make a statement. something like 'hey, we're actually useful at our jobs of protecting the jujutsu world!' and who better to clean up their mess than you and...

gojo satoru.

speak of the devil. you glanced up towards the grand entrance of the hotel lobby, as an unfortunate doorman stood by revolving, glass doors.

your...partner strode in, with dark sunglasses perched on his nose, and you scrunched your nose, taking in his appearance.

despite gojo's striking features that could render anyone speechless, he always looked like an odd bird of prey to you.

hawkish with creepy eyes, like a big snowy owl that had been hit by a curse, transforming him and forcing him to assimilate into the world of humans.

"i wasn't sure if you would come," you called, hoping that you masked the bitterness well that he had arrived, and significantly decreased the quality of your day.

"you wouldn't say that in bed," was gojo's snarky, automated reply, before he gave you a mildly embarrassed look, as if his immature mouth moved faster than his common sense did.

"still, sorry to keep you waiting," and gojo was crushing the heel of his boot into the cream marble of the floor, tapping it, all ridiculously long legs in the same uniform dress pants that you also donned, "traffic was hell."

"you don't even have a license," you grouched with a glare that you hoped was sharp enough to cleave time and space, but you stood up all the same, "and i wasn't waiting, i was working."

click! click!

gojo snapped his fingers, reaching for the folder stacked in your arms, "yes, of course you were, sweets," and he clicked his tongue, "now, why don't you hand that to me, and go check us in? i can look over what i need to do, let's get this done before night falls."

the audacity. the absolute nerve. how so typically gojo. swooping in at the last minute for kill shot, as usual, while others poured through all the paperwork, and did all the mental heavy lifting.

"you mean what we need to do, gojo," you snapped, your scowl deepening, "you're the late one. you go check us in."

gojo arched a pale brow, and the corner of his mouth twitched as though he wished he could just unwalk through those doors now, caught between amusement and exasperation. "you used to be so nice. what happened?"

"tsk! i think you happened, gojo. didn't ask to be stuck here with you."

"ah, so you do think about me, at least. but now you're jus' so difficult all the time."

"fuck off, i'm not difficult!" you shot back, before shrinking at the foul look that an elderly couple had directed your way, muttering something about how youth just didn't know how to act indoors, "i'm just saying it's not fair -"

"fine, whatever. don't care, sweets," gojo interrupted, already rolling big, blue eyes and turning away, "i'll go do it. you just stay nice and comfortable here."

and just like that, after comfortably raising your blood pressure (and heart rate), gojo satoru strode off towards the vast front desk, hands shoved lazily into his pockets, as though the two of you weren't on the clock to hunt down and find a dangerous criminal, his syndicate and a cursed object.

you trailed behind him, resisting the violent urge to grab his stupid sunglasses and fling them across the lobby. or stomp on them.

or just sit on them.

meanwhile, your eyes landed on the last and final page of the file, where a bright pink sticky note stood out sharply against the dull black and white of the case file.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

the words were scrawled in thick, impatient strokes of a black marker. the kind that spoke more of efficiency, than humanity.

typical. there was just nothing that higher ups of the jujutsu world loved more than lopping the head off anyone that they deemed inconvenient. quick, clean and final.

still, this decision wasn't your business, not really.

you looked up to see gojo casually leaning against the counter, and his entire demeanour radiated smooth confidence as he spoke to the receptionist.

the sweet-looking woman had fumbled her worlds almost immediately, and she had dropped her pen twice. and he had caught it with an easy smile and wink that would have made you roll your eyes clean out of your skull.

you wanted to gag.

in less than a minute, gojo had the black keycard in his hand, spinning it between his fingers like some trophy as he sauntered towards the elevators.

you sighed as he stopped in front of you, extending the card with a flourish, like a knight presenting a courtier with a wreath of fresh-cut flowers.

"we're here for a mission, gojo. not to get it wet."

the tips of his ears flushed a bright, vibrant red. but his grin didn't falter as he huffed, and snatched the keycard back. leaving your arm floundering in the air before you dropped it.

"how crude. that's not even what i asked her. but still, you're welcome, sweets," he had said, stepping into the elevator and holding the door open for you with an exaggerated stretch of his arm.

"i didn't say thank you."

gojo smiled, tilting his head in that distracting, no. what? in that irritating manner of his, "no need. i could feel the gratitude radiating off you," and he's crossing his arms against his broad chest in a way that made the tailored uniform seem unfairly snug, "warms my heart."

"what if you don't have a heart?

for a fleeting moment, something unreadable flashed in gojo's eyes, irritation easily — but something unrecognisable, but he must have smoothed it away with practised ease. for that same cocky grin returned like clockwork, infuriatingly charming and just as insincere.

"what if it only beats for you?" he shot back, wiggling his fingers dramatically, and the motion was so over-the-top that it leaned closer to sleazy than heartstopping.

"now i'm worried, you need to get shoko to check that out. sounds like a serious health issue."

"your tender concern for my well-being is what keeps my blood pumping," and you know that gojo has little regard for the personal space for others, the way that the distance between you is closing once more, in a way that makes your own pulse flicker.

"please," and you take a deliberate step back to reclaim your own space, "if i wanted you gone, i wouldn't waste my time hoping for a heart attack. i'd do it myself."

gojo shrugs, tilting his head like you had just told him a sweet joke, "you're cute when you're homicidal, y'know that?"

"and you're insufferable all the time. we all have our talents."

gojo's barked out a laugh, and the sound is annoyingly genuine. it has you grinding your teeth together, making your jaw tight.

"hey, gojo," you swivel back to the towering bean-pole behind you, leaning against a steel bar.

"mhm, what?"

"i'll give you a hundred thousand yen if you keep your mouth shut during the entire elevator ride," you mutter, staring at the ground floor map, and up to where your suite was meant to be, hands fiddling over the buttons.

"deal."

you glance back, "that easy? clan money running low, gojo?"

gojo sighs, shaking his (ridiculous) snow-cone hair, "you have no idea. spent it all on a sweet talkin' girl who kicked me to the curb. even took the dog with her. who takes the fucking dog?"

despite yourself and your iron-clad resolution to not validate gojo satoru in anything, you snort, the first genuine laugh he's pulled out of you.

you choose not to notice how his eyes suddenly seem a shade brighter, as you snicker, "you're so ridiculous."

he doesn't reply as you press an index finger into the cool metal of the elevator button, and you turn around to see him sadly miming out his broke plight, with a sack of imaginary things over his shoulder, jingling the few coins he has.

tsk. you bite your lip to stop the corners of your lips lifting up to match gojo's own, wrinkling your nose in faux distaste as you spin back around, with gritted teeth. away from the mild bane of your existence.

true to his word, and shockingly so, gojo stayed silent through the elevator ride. mostly.

you caught his restless sighs, the shuffle of his ridiculously polished boots, and the occasional sharp intake of breath like he was simply dying to say something, but kept biting it back.

good. for once, it was nice to make gojo satoru stew.

the elevator dinged, and you had already stepped out, planning to ditch him in the suite, but clearly, gojo had other ideas.

"alright, sweets," he said, hand extended, "i won the bet. hundred thousand yen, i can take a cheque too."

you stopped short, glaring at his outstretched (sculpted) hand.

"right now? just as we're gonna plan how to catch a criminal? can't we do a pay later type of thing?"

gojo's responding grin was wolfish, and his voice dropped enough to make you bristle, "sure. pay later, with a kiss."

your groan must have echoed down the hall, and without thinking, you shoved past him. your shoulder colliding with his chest in a way that was deeply satisfying.

"my kisses," you snapped, refusing to look back at him, "are worth way more than a hundred thousand yen."

gojo didn't reply immediately, no. and for a second, you thought had finally managed to shut him up enough for a moment's peace to gather the thoughts that the white-haired man always managed to unravel.

but when you dared to glance back over your shoulder, his sharp gaze was fixed on you, and his lips were pressed together oddly — the faintest dusting of cherry pink peeking out underneath his sunglasses, and falling over his cheeks.

nary a peep from gojo then, save for him rushing past you to slot the keycard into the door. but holy fuck, the sheer luxury of this suite almost made you forget that gojo satoru even existed.

sleek dark woods, glowing orange accents, and a massive window that offered a panoramic view of tokyo's skyline. and then, there was the bed.

ridiculous in its decadence. a king-sized masterpiece, draped in plush linens that looked softer than the clouds dotting the afternoon sky. framed by polished ebony bedposts that gleamed in the warm light of the suite. the mattress was practically calling out to you, to sink your back into it.

wait, where was the other bed?

"nope! absolutely not," you blurted, spinning on your heel to face gojo who had sauntered in after you, pausing mid-step and clearly, equally caught off-guard with a stunned expression on his face — before morphing into something maddeningly smug.

"what?" gojo said, leaning casually against the doorframe, "it's a bed. you've seen one before, right?"

you tried to speak in a way that wouldn't quite make it show that you felt like your tongue was lead, jabbing a finger at the bed as though it had personally offended you, "there's only one!"

gojo's lips quirked upwards, his blue eyes gleaming with that irritating mix of amusement and mischief, most likely derived from your displeasure, "now look at that, we can count to ten. baby steps."

"don't start with me," you snapped, "i'm not crashing out there. i'd rather sleep in the hallway."

gojo tilted his head, the white tufts of his hair falling around his face, as though he were considering the suggestion seriously, "not sure the hotel staff would appreciate you loitering in their five-star corridors. won't stop you though, sweets."

"you can sleep on the couch," you try to offer helpfully, relishing in how it's his turn to scowl at you.

gojo's glancing towards the sleek leather sofa in the corner, most likely worth more than your monthly rent, "tempting," he drawls, "but i don't think that thing was designed for someone with legs this long," and he's slapping his hands on his thighs, and you do your very best to not track your stare down.

"then curl up like the overgrown house cat you are -"

"fuck you mean by that?"

"or sleep on the floor!"

"i'm liking these options less and less."

but then gojo straightens, and you're starting to see a small tick reach to the corner of his bright eyes, the faintest hint of irritation seeping through his drawl, "you know, for someone so desperate to avoid me, you spend a lot of time wondering where i'm gonna sleep."

you hate the traitorous flush heating up your face, "i'm thinking about it because you're my problem."

"well i hope i'm at least your favourite problem," gojo murmurs, brushing past you to toss his dark bag onto the bed.

"so, what's it gonna be?" gojo's voice was a lazy purr, patting the mattress beside him with a grin that could have launched a thousand arguments, "join me, or keep fighting a losing battle? because -" he faked a yawn, "i think i'm starting to get a bit sleepy."

"sleepy? you're a grown man, and it's barely three in the afternoon."

gojo arches a pale brow, and you have to force yourself to stop staring at the pink curve of his lips, "and? scared you won't be able to resist me in the middle of the night?"

"you should be scared you'll wake up with a pillow smothering your face."

gojo sighs, melodramatic and loud, rolling over onto his back, "i'd rather be smothered by -"

"gojo!"

his laugh is low and rich, and it vibrates in the air in a way that make your teeth itch, and your eyes roll, desparate to change the subject and actually get back on track.

you shove the hefty file in his direction, letting him flounder to grab a hold of it, "last page. naoki sato."

gojo's entire demeanor shifts, and falls under the mention of the name, eyes a touch darker, and suddenly serious in a way that almost makes you regret being on the clock. but he's pushed himself up from the bed, his legs dangling off the edge.

"what about him?"

you frowned, still turning over the situation in your mind, "well, he's supposedly working out of this district right, i mean, even this hotel? but why? i always thought crime bosses had creepy lairs in dark alleyways or something. and not," you gesture to the five-star architecture around you, "this."

gojo's broad shoulders shrug in that lazy way of his, like everything was beneath him, but there was something else flickering behind his perched sunglasses, "i've never even met him. just heard of him," but gojo seems to be chewing each word, as if choosing them carefully, "but what i've heard? not your typical criminal? he flies high, lives the wild life out in the open, rich and shameless."

you privately held back any biting comment that came to you as easy as breathing, about gojo also being the epitome of rich...and shameless. time and place, yeah?

gojo, thank the lucky stars, had not noticed you fighting demons to keep a straight face, "but then every so often sato vanishes off the radar, and then, bam!" your partner splayed his fingers, "he strikes again. always showing in a different place. the united states, france, england, egypt..."

you raise an eyebrow, tapping at your phone, "egypt?"

"egyptian artefacts are ridiculously powerful, sweets. i mean, on a whole other level. they aren't linked with y'know...jujutsu," he gestures vaguely between the two of you, "but whatever they've got is ancient and ridiculously potent. last the higher ups heard, naoki sato managed to get his hands on an old obelisk."

you shake your head at the prospect, humouring gojo, "whatever for?"

"whatever twisted things he does in his free time, fuck if i know. but of course, he couldn't control it. instead, it summoned the spirit of a massive serpent, killed a bunch of innocent civilians."

you have the faintest collection of the mythos surrounding an ancient serpent, and the thought makes you shudder, "wouldn't the local authorities have arrested him for that?"

gojo pushes his sunglasses up his head, so you're now looking back at unblinking blue eyes ringed by white lashes, "how do you arrest a guy who's practically a ghost? they couldn't even find him after all that shit. besides, his technique is something else. enhance. practically has control over every cell in your body."

you nod slowly, hoping that you're piercing it all together correctly, "so this auction is because he's got more of these artefacts? like raijin's amulet?"

gojo nods sharply, and you're struck by the intensity of big blue eyes with whorls of storm clouds lingering between his gaze, "i guess even villainous criminals want to make profit. but we can get a front row seat to whatever he's planning next."

"and stop him before that."

"right. that's what i said."

your frown deepens, "how the fuck does an entire auction stay hidden from the public?"

after all, you had scoured the floorplan of this hotel from base to rooftop, and not a single room or corner would accomodate naoki sato, and the voiceless that follow him.

gojo shrugs with infuriating nonchalance, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of the bed, "there's jujutsu that can create entire illusions. beneath this very hotel lies an entrance to a hidden ballroom, but it's been in and out of use for decades. we jus' need to slip in, find sato, and maybe shake him a few times until he spills the amulet's location."

you cross your arms, and the unfortunate truth lingers on your tongue, "if it were that easy, the higher ups wouldn't have sent you with me as backup."

"was that a compliment for me? careful, you might actually start liking me now."

and at your affronted expression, laugher is spilling out gojo satoru, sharp and cocky and awfully infectious.

you hated the sound, not because it wasn't nice, but because it was. too rich, too easy. the kind of laugh, from the strongest sorcerer to walk the earth, that made you wonder if ever took a damn thing seriously. with the unfortunate side effect of questioning why it was so annoyingly attractive at the same time.

nobody should get to look that good while being such an unbearable ass. it was unfortunate, you thought grimly, how much you liked seeing him laugh though.

"i don't think i'd ever like you at all, gojo."

but alas, the world has a cruel way of making you wish that the earth swallowed you whole. and your heart and mind certainly aren't on speaking terms with each other to coordinate properly. for the barb flies out of your mouth like an uncontrolled reflex, a rogue arrow hitting its mark.

and you're left grimacing as gojo's smile stills. not vanishing completely, but frozen while something cooler and sharper slips into his gaze. the awkward silence that follows is loud enough to make you wince and pray that a lightning bolt strikes you down right now.

gojo gives a quiet cough, and you're wondering just how much of his nonchalant facade he has left intact. fuck, you were a bit of an ass yourself.

"ah, gojo. i didn't mean -" you started, stumbling over the words, desperate to backpedal, if only for the sake of the mission. right?

"don't strain yourself pretending," gojo cuts you off, and you're mildly stung by the smooth edge of venom coating his voice, despite his relaxed smile, "let's just get this job done, yeah? it's just us two here because no-one else could put up with you. i was the only one left who actually wanted to try."

well. ouch, that was a low blow. motherfucker.

your jaw tighten, and for a moment, all you can do is stare into vibrant blue eyes. surely, that wasn't true...right? and how awful that the sharp look in his eyes softened into a smug satisfaction as he registered how his own barb had found his mark.

now, gojo satoru is leaning back with an air of victory, crossing his arms as if to bask in it. talk about drawing more blood from a wound than necessary.

"you're awful, gojo," you bit out, praying that whatever tremor lives in your throat is not enough to appear in your voice.

"yes, i know. you say that all the time."

it was almost tragic, you thought bitterly, how in those fleeting few minutes, you had found gojo satoru bearable. likeable even. insightful, in his own smug way.

but now, the two of you were back to square one, staring each other down with walls firmly back in place.

sure, your quip had been mildly unnecessary, but it wasn't like he hadn't heard your blithe and bland comments by now?

but still, gojo's words gnawed at you. the idea that no one else wanted to put up with you, except him, of all people, burrowed deeper than it had any right to.

maybe it was petty, but you weren't about to let gojo satoru have the last word.

"remember that the higher ups want naoki sato executed," you said, breaking the terse silence.

gojo didn't even glance up from the file he'd been pretending to skim, his long fingers casually flipping a page. and that nonchalance made your stomach churn with irritation.

when he finally looked up, his expression was a mix of curiosity, and disdain, as if you had become a particularly stubborn puzzle that he'd decided was not worth solving, "yes, i know that too. so what?"

"you and i both know you've had trouble executing criminals in the past."

a calculated jab, sharper than they needed to be. and you saw the impact hit almost immediately. gojo's jaw tightened, and the glint in his frosty blue eyes disappeared, replaced by something darker, furious even.

suguru geto was still well and alive, often appearing on television as a friendly priest who would cure one of all their ails such as lower back pain or bad headaches, for the low price of joining the ranks of his organisation (read: cult). but he still remained a sore point for...everyone. you, included.

gojo, especially.

and now the air between you shifted, chilling like a winter draft had snuck into the room. your eyes fell on gojo's knuckles as they tightened around the file, his expression stony.

you shouldn't have felt proud of yourself for getting under his skin, for pulling a genuine reaction from him. but you did. you'd found a crack in his flawless armour, without needing to bypass infinity.

and it was satisfying.

"f-fuck you," gojo said finally, the razor edge in his voice was matched only by the glare he pinned on you.

you crossed your arms, doing your best to feign indifference despite the adrenaline surging through you. ignoring how you felt an awful pit in your stomach sprout, rendering you rather nauseous, and quoting his previous words, "don't strain yourself pretending it's not true."

gojo satoru's glower could have melted steel, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd gone too far. but he stood, slowly, his movements deliberate as he slammed the file shut with a resounding snap.

you watched as he snatched up his smaller bag, and swung the door open with enough force that you were surprised that it didn't fall off its hinges, "just be ready by the time i get back. 'm gonna take a walk."

and you were left, alone, in a room that suddenly felt so much more suffocating.

you weren't sure how long it had been since gojo had stormed out, leaving the room icy in his absence. you hadn't moved from your spot by the door, though you told yourself that you were entirely fine.

arms crossed, lips pressed into a thin, defiant line. but even as you stared at the dark panels of the door, the lie began to unravel.

you told yourself that you just didn't care for gojo satoru. that you didn't like how he was too loud, too reckless, too overwhelming, a force that just didn't fit into the neat confines of your world.

the heat rising to your cheeks must have betrayed you, as did the tight knot in your chest. it had been...not your wisest choice to lash out at him, or to even bring up his name. suguru geto, a wound that would never close for anyone.

but more than that, you hated the memory of his expression just before he left. hurt, and anger. and something far more raw.

he would come back, you knew that much. gojo was much too dutiful to leave a mission and abandon a chance to do some good in this world. it should have been a comfort, but it did little to ease you. instead, that certainty only twisted the guilt tighter in between your ribcage.

finally, you yanked the door open, fuelled by an impulse you didn't care to name. you wanted to catch him outside, mid-pace and brooding. just so you could say...something. anything.

but the hallway was empty, stark and silent, with only the dim flicker of warm light as your witness. you bit your tongue as your stomach churned sourly with disappointment.

and instead, you just slammed the door shut, letting the sound reveberate with just as much force that gojo had slammed the door with, on his way out. you leaned against the wood, closing your eyes as you did your level best to swallow that lump of regret making a home in your throat.

pacing helped for about...three minutes. shuffling through the case files on the table did nothing but remind you of why you were here, why you had both been sent. after all, was this mission not bigger than you, or him? was this not about bringing naoki sato to justice?

it didn't feel that way.

your gaze landed on the garment bag handing from the chair, untouched from when you had pulled it out earlier, back when gojo had been inviting you...to bed.

sort of.

you unzipped the bag with (mildly) trembling hands, letting the fabric spill into your grasp. no doubt that the dress was beautiful, a masterpiece of icy, powder blue and shimmering sequins that caught the light like scattered stars.

well, this had certainly been worth half your paycheck.

your fingers brushed over the delicate embroidery, and for a moment, you felt a mild sting of your own hypocrisy and yearning heart. you accused gojo of being cold, distant and unfeeling, and yet here you were, holding a dress that reminded you of him in every way. the pale blue of the fabric, like the frost in his storm-eyes when they rested on you for too long.

if you ever came face to face with cupid, you would beat him with a baseball bat.

you sighed, dropping the dress onto the bed before gingerly stepping out of your uniform, as cool air stung your skin.

what had you been thinking, treating gojo like that? he didn't deserve your anger, not truly. you knew how much your former classmate carried, how much he gave himself to this cursed and thankless world.

but of course, the little pronged-devil on your shoulder whispered around the shell of your ear. he often drew equal blood from stinging cuts, no-one wanted to put up with you, anyway.

still, there was no use in showing up to a gathering of some of the world's most rich, wealthy and seedy looking like a hollow and shaken ghost. and this mission was just not about gojo, it was about the greater good of the jujutsu world, and that's what you repeated in your head like a mantra, as you swiped plush-red across your cheeks and lips.

a diamond necklace around your throat was the final touch. well, you say diamond, but the truth was more...cheap. still, the strand shone in linked chains of pretty crystals. and that had still been a minor fortune for one who lived on a jujutsu paycheck.

the hours had stretched the afternoon into evening, settling a fragile calm over the suite that made you ache to stretch your limbs out, and take in some fresh air.

but the silence was shattered by a sharp knock at the door, purposeful and deliberate. and it made you freeze, hands still resting on the straps of your glitzy shoes, a frown knitting your brows.

gojo had the keycard, did he not? but who else would be banging your door down?

with a sigh, you stood and lifted the hem of your dress as you crossed the room. opening the door with every intention of scolding him for whatever drama he was dragging in this time.

instead the words just about died a sad and lonely death on your tongue.

gojo satoru.

for a brief second, your thoughts emptied entirely, as though he had cast infinite void right over you, leaving you staring with a heart that hammered like a caged bird.

gone was his usual, drab uniform. instead, he had swapped the dull fabric for a sleek, black dress shirt that clung just right, paired with a crisp, grey jacket that framed his broad shoulders.

you tried to not let your gaze linger on the open gap right under the white tie that hung slightly loosened from his neck, where silk kissed creamy skin.

but gojo’s face was unreadable, distant and cool. you hated how his mere presence always seemed to tilt the world off its axis.

and you blinked, forcing your mouth to close, and you stepped back to let him in.

"you’re late. again," you snapped, but your voice lacked its usual venom, tempered by the sharp edges of minor guilt that refused to settle in you.

"whatever. ‘m here now, aren’t i?" gojo’s tone was casual, but his eyes lingered a second too long, leaving your skin prickling with self-conscious awareness.

it seemed that the universe needed to hit you with some karmic intervention, and you decided to take the rare moral high ground, "about earlier," you began, trying to steady yourself, "i shouldn’t have said -"

"forget it, sweets," gojo interrupted with a shrug, though his jaw was tight, "i’m not keen on hearing excuses. i get it."

you bristled, biting back the immense urge to shove him, an urge that becoming disturbingly frequent, "i wasn’t making excuses," sounding out each word slow and deliberate. anger simmering under the surface at his holier-than-thou attitude, "that was an apology."

that made gojo pause, and now he fully turned to you, expression shifting. though it was hard to read, caught between painful acknowledgement and absurd pride that would include him admitting that he was affected by what you said.

"tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

gojo slid a pair of tinted sunglasses from his pocket, sliding them up his nose, smooth and practised, "in a room full of the filthy rich and tastelessly overdressed?" his pink mouth twitched, "you’ll fit in perfectly."

gojo was right. this was just…tacky.

the ground floor of the building had been nothing but a sleek, cold lifeless maze of marble, and now he had led you down into what could only be described as a scene for criminals with bad taste. an abandoned parking lot stretched out in front of you, a grimy stretch of concrete that left you expecting a quiet dead end.

until gojo waved his hand, and the illusion clearly met for non-sorcerer eyes shattered.

before you, a set of massive double doors emerged, seemingly from nowhere, and the lifting of the veil had left you disoriented, nauseous. but when the doors swung open, you almost felt like you were stepping into a warped fever dream.

this room inside was the most bizarre mixture of garish opulence that you had ever seen. gold…everything. the walls plastered in a deep red, like someone had dipped the entire place in velvet swathes and then covered it with more gold leaf.

plush, overstuffed settees sat like soft, jewel-toned thrones in every corner, and glass boxes lined the walls, each holding what looked like nothing more than expensive junk, tacky figurines and diamond-encrusted trinkets.

it was the kind of place you’d absolutely expect a mob boss to call home after a particularly long, indulgent afternoon making questionable life choices.

the hall reeked of wealth, the kind that demanded to be seen. opulence dripped from every corner — gilded fixtures, crystalline chandeliers, and glass displays showcasing treasures that screamed money but whispered nothing of taste. you twitched as you passed a goblet encrusted with enough jewels to buy a small city-state. the thought of how much it probably cost made your stomach twist.

"focus," gojo muttered at your side, his tone clipped. he squinted slightly, his sunglasses doing little to shield his six eyes from the garish light that spilled over the room like liquid gold., and you could tell it was a bit...much for his senses, making him blink rapidly. "we’ll sweep the displays, see if the amulet’s here."

you tilted your head, gesturing toward his snowy mop of hair, the unruly strands falling messily over his face and grazing the edge of his glasses. "and you’re sure they won’t recognise you, in this whole...circus?"

gojo's responding glance was sharp, flat, and utterly devoid of humour.

"most of these people wouldn’t recognise a threat if it was biting them in the ass," he said, voice low and laced with disdain. "they’re not sorcerers. just your garden-variety rich and bored — criminals, trust fund brats, maybe a politician trying to look cultured. the kind of people who buy antiques because they match their curtains and makes them look good for their friends."

the corner of your mouth betrayed you, twitching upward at his cutting dismissal of the glittering nonsense around you. he had hit the nail on the head, making contempt seem like an art form.

and worse, you hated how there was something almost…sexy about it.

the thought hit you like a slap, and you forced it down immediately. gojo and sexy didn’t belong in the same sentence. not in the same universe. fuck, not even as a passing joke.

"charmed as i am by your high opinion of humanity," you said dryly, trying to ground yourself in sarcasm, "maybe don’t make it obvious you hate everyone here. we're not here to arrest every person in this room."

gojo snorted softly, his lips curving into what might have been a smirk — or at least the ghost of one. "you think so little of me. i don’t hate everyone." his eyes flicked toward you, just for a second, before returning to the vast hall ahead.

it wasn’t much. barely a glance of electric blue. but it was enough to send your pulse into a sprint, and fuck him, he had to know it. you turned your attention to the nearest display, praying he didn’t notice the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

traitorous.

"let’s just find the amulet, and sato. and get out of here," you said briskly, your voice a shade too sharp.

"mhm," gojo's voice was infuriatingly calm, but when you looked up, his gaze wasn’t on the displays. it was on you.

"you look lost."

a voice, smooth and low, slid over you like silk, stopping you cold in your tracks. it hadn't come from gojo by your side, thank the heavens above, but it didn't make your heart any steadier. you turned towards the source, and your stomach did a three-point flip.

well. hello, gorgeous.

the type of good-looking that just felt unfair. the type that made you forget your name for half a second, and then hate yourself for it. the strnger stood out against the room of puffed-up men in overpriced suits, glittering with real diamonds of their cuff-links, and rolled cigars in their hands.

your eyes fell on dark auburn strands that fell in perfectly tousled strands over his forehead, and a tailored black suit that hugged a slender waist.

"i hope you didn't wander into the wrong hall," the stranger said, curling his lips into a faint smile, fraught with suspicion as it was.

you forced yourself not to stare — at an absurdly sharp jawline, at big brown eyes. but words were a different matter entirely. you struggled to conjure them, grasping for anything remotely coherent.

you settled on an appropriate response.

"um. no, we didn’t."

not your finest moment. not even close.

before you could mentally regroup with a few brain cells, a sharp jolt yanked you back to reality. you sucked in a sharp breath as gojo's long fingers pinched the underside of your arm, a deliberate sting that left you glaring at him.

he didn’t even bother to meet your eyes.

his entire focus was fixed on the stranger, his posture taut with unspoken tension, gojo's jaw clenched so tight you thought he might crack a perfect tooth.

the air shifted subtly, a faint hum of energy emanating from gojo. you knew that hum. it meant trouble. gojo, ever the master of simmering hostility, was gearing up for something, and he was looking weirdly agitated.

and you found it tasteless to jump the first person you had run into here.

"i usually know most of the guests at my events," the stranger continued, his voice calm, unbothered — but there was an edge to it, like he already knew the answer to the question he hadn’t asked.

oh.

you felt your stomach plummet as recognition dawned.

naoki sato.

no wonder gojo looked ready to snap someone in half. naoki wasn’t just anyone — he was the head of the voiceless. the host of this auction. the man whose fortune was built on enough shady dealings to fill a large library. the one who had more blood on his hands than those who had been dealt life sentences.

one of the most wanted jujutsu criminals in the world.

"you've — " gojo started, his voice sharp, but you cut him off with a forced, almost too-bright smile.

"you've thrown quite the party," you said, your words tripping over themselves as you elbowed gojo subtly, hoping to god he’d take the hint. "i’m actually quite new to the area. just exploring, hoping to find something good tonight."

gojo let out a low grunt, a sound that promised retribution later. you ignored him and plastered on a wider smile, one you hoped would distract from your partner's upcoming reversal: red.

"and, ah. this is my bodyguard...genji," you added, giving gojo's arm a firm retributive pinch through the fabric of his jacket.

the look he shot you could've melted steel, but you held your ground, determined not to let him ruin this.

if for once, he could take your plan into account, a great deal of bloodshed could be avoided.

naoki's faint cherry smile widened, bemused, "your…bodyguard?" he echoed, gaze flickering to gojo satoru.

gojo who stood like a coiled spring, gojo who certainly was no method actor. his icy glare practically speaking volumes of 'i will burn this room down.'

"well," naoki drawled, his tone almost playful now, and you flushed, "i hope you find what you’re looking for here."

behind him, his entourage, a cadre of hulking men stuffed into suits barely containing their bulk, followed with synchronised precision. they looked more like walking fortresses than bodyguards, with their cold and suspicious eyes cutting through the room as they passed.

one of them shot you an odd look, and you forced yourself to feign interest in a nearby display of sapphire-encrusted forks.

the moment the criminal was out of earshot, gojo leaned down, "genji? really?"

you shrugged, ignoring how you felt your nerves fray. and refusing to meet him half-way, "what? okay, i panicked. it was the first name i thought of."

"yeah, that was so convincing," gojo muttered darkly beside you, and you caught some bitten off words about how he was never going on a mission with you again, how yaga should never have roped him into this.

all things you blithely ignored.

you didn’t need to look at him to know he was furious. it rolled off him in waves, the tension in his posture, the barely audible hum of cursed energy still crackling under the surface.

"we don't even know where the amulet is. and imagine if we show up in front of yaga without it. you can do whatever you like with him after we get our hands on the cursed object," you whispered back, pretending to study the ridiculous cutlery with exaggerated focus.

gojo lowered his head, as though he suddenly saw the worth in gemstones embedded in cutlery, but just enough so he could glower at you. "you're flirting," he hissed, "i could have blasted through half this room, and just finished the job by now."

you coughed and hackled, "not all of us think effective battles are fought with a hollow purple."

"and not all of us,” gojo bit back, "feel the need to blush like schoolgirls the second someone bats an eyelash at us."

heat shot through you, part anger, part something you didn’t want to name. "blush?” you snapped. "i wasn’t blushing."

"you just wanted to jump his bones. thought we weren't here to get it wet."

"i'm not entertaining this conversation," but your voice was mildly higher pitched, drawing attention, "is that why you were there? standing like an idiot, or a jealous ex-boyfriend?"

gojo's sneer faltered, just for a split second, but it was enough to make your heart lurch with a strange, vindictive triumph.

"i wasn’t jealous," he said, "i was doing my job. y'know, being a jujutsu sorcerer. bringing a criminal to justice."

you opened your mouth, ready to retort, but no words came. because he wasn’t entirely wrong, and that infuriated you more than anything.

so instead, you lifted your hand, placing it firmly on his shoulder, onto the crisp and fine fabric of his jacket. you didn't miss the way he stiffened, briefly disarmed.

"look, i've got this. just stay close."

gojo's jaw tightened, and you could feel the unspoken protest simmering there. before he could get a word in, you turned away and called out.

"hey! naoki!"

the red-haired man stopped mid-stride, turning his head back toward you with a quizzical look. the confident words you’d planned evaporated the moment his sharp, brown eyes pinned you in place.

"i mean, naoki sato. mr. sato," you fumbled, mentally kicking yourself.

brilliant start. truly one of jujutsu tech's finest.

naoki raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting from confusion to faint amusement. his gaze flicked to gojo, who had crossed his arms like a fortress of disdain and immense ill-will.

"found something you like?" naoki asked smoothly.

you ignored the huff that escaped the white-haired man next to you, and forced a smile, "actually, i was hoping you could help me choose something out. i'm not an expert here, and there's just so much to see."

naoki's bodyguards shifted, their expressions darkening as if you’d committed some unspoken faux pas. but the crime boss merely tilted his head, the faintest hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

"ah, well," he said, drawing the word out lazily, "i don’t usually get this forward with my clients, but i suppose i'll make an exception."

his eyes slid once again to gojo, who was now glowering at a waiter hovering too close to his personal space, on the edges of infinity. "your bodyguard," naoki added helpfully, "can walk behind you. perhaps he'd like a drink to keep him occupied."

gojo's snarl could have peeled garish paint off the walls, "i don't want it."

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at the stubborn ass.

instead, you pasted on a smile, tight and sweet, and shot gojo a look that could cut glass, "our host is offering you something. you want that drink, genji."

"i don’t want cream soda," gojo muttered, all mulish in his six foot three glory.

gritting your teeth, you flashed naoki a helpless look, like what can you do? bodyguards, am i right?

and you reached for the waiter's tray, grabbing a tall glass of the offending soda and thrusting it into gojo's warm hand. then you leaned in, your voice a whisper, "take it. smile and act normal. ten minutes, that’s all i need."

for a moment, his blue eyes locked on yours, a storm of irritation twirling in them. you were now close enough to feel the heat radiating off him, close enough to notice the faintest hitch in his breath.

but gojo, for once, didn’t argue. with a final glare, he downed half the glass in one long, defiant gulp, his adam’s apple bobbing as he drank.

naoki laughed, watching the scene unfold with thinly veiled amusement, "you're very kind to the help. shall we?"

you shot gojo satoru one last look — a mix of triumph and warning —before stepping forward.

but your partner, predictably, looked like he'd rather swallow glass than stand a moment longer here. still, bodyguard is as bodyguard does, and he trailed after you like a reluctant shadow.

"i must admit," naoki began, his brown eyes catching the glittering lights as they swept over you, "it's rare to see someone so beautiful at these things. i think i would have remembered seeing you before, too. i'm usually stuck with old men trying to swindle me out of my fortune."

a flush climbed up your neck, unwelcome and irritating at what must have been calculated words, enough to flatter and also to disarm.

behind you, gojo audibly scoffed, clearly abandoning all manner of proper etiquette. you glanced over your shoulder to see him gripping the stem of a champagne flute, his knuckles white. the empty glass of cream soda had been abandoned in favour of something stronger.

he caught your eye and rolled his, making a slicing gesture at his neck followed by a pointed hurry up motion.

"ignore him," you murmured to naoki, pushing forward.

naoki’s eyes gleamed with amusement, easily unbothered as he gestured for you to continue walking. "does your bodyguard always look like he’s seconds away from murder, or is this special treatment for me?"

you didn’t dare look back at gojo, “he’s just protective," you said carefully.

naoki chuckled, "protective, sure. but of his job...or you?"

the words struck a nerve you refused to acknowledge, so you pressed the conversation forward. ignoring the jitter that erupted in your stomach.

"can i ask...," you said, tilting your head just enough to feign casual curiosity, "are these all cursed objects? or just pretty trinkets?"

naoki's amusement didn’t falter, but his gaze sharpened, assessing you like you were a puzzle he was only now beginning to piece together.

"why?” he asked smoothly, "are you interested in jujutsu? i thought you were here to...browse."

fuck, caught, but not completely.

you played it off with a small shrug. "some members of my family dabble in jujutsu," you said, letting a sliver of truth escape, but letting the rest of your words drip with lies, "i can only see curses, i'm not a sorcerer. but most of my family still hates me for how i was born."

behind you, gojo shifted, his movements a touch sharper than before. he hadn’t known that, hadn't known the small truth that you had snuck into your words.

but naoki's expression softened, his smile more thoughtful now. "that’s rare. and often not appreciated, i imagine.”

you hesitated, cautiously, but nodded. "not by them, no."

"i understand. my parents hated jujutsu. thought it was unnatural, and against the way of the world. my grandfather...he was the only one who didn't," and there's a quiet sincerity threading naoki sato's words, "he raised me when my parents refused to. at least, until he passed."

something in his story tugged at you — a familiarity you hadn’t expected. your family’s disdain for your own jujutsu, their rejection, mirrored in his words. it was unsettling, but oddly not unwelcome.

"i’m sorry about your grandfather," you said softly.

"and i, about your family,” naoki replied, a calm mask settling over his features once more, reminding you so painfully of the sorcerer who trailed behind you, "no-one should be made to feel lesser, sorcerer or not."

you caught your lip between your teeth, hoping the red stain didn't catch onto your teeth, "i thought most sorcerers hated humans."

naoki shrugged, "we aren't all that different. all flesh and blood with temporary lives."

oddly wise words from a mass murderer, thief and criminal.

you glanced over at gojo again, and just as you predicted, his scowl deepened and the glass looked like it was about a shatter in his hands. if looks could kill, naoki sato would be the first to go, no questions asked, followed by you.

naoki snickered, "your shadow grows restless."

"ignore him, please," you muttered, stepping closer to a glass case to distract yourself, "what’s this?"

naoki followed, stepping closer so you could catch the scent of expensive almond and saffron, "ah," he said, gesturing at the artefact inside, "a blade, from ming dynasty china. the jade serpent on the hilt grants its wearer the ability to control minds. some say it can even raise the dead."

the claim sent a shiver down your spine, but you masked it with feigned interest, nodding as naoki moved on.

"and here," he continued, pointing to a golden ring, with an oddly boyish grin for someone dealing in murderous items, "the lion's eyes. said to see through any veil, any curse. the last treasure of the dynasty of the pharoahs."

you tried to listen, but gojo's presence loomed larger with every word. his disdain for naoki sato, his barely concealed anger at the stolen objects— it was all too palpable. when you glanced back, his scowl had deepened, and the champagne glass in his hand looked on the verge of shattering.

if looks could kill, naoki sato would already be six feet under. you would be next on the list.

you swallowed hard, turning back to naoki sato and pointing at the next display. "and this?"

naoki pushed his hands into the pockets of his slacks, "the broken english crown. apparently worn by the last king to die on the battlefield, and i haven't tried it on," he shares this with you, with a conspiratorial smile, "but legends say it fractures the bones of anyone deemed not powerful enough to wear it."

this criminal was not what you had expected at all. it was hard to reconcile the image of a hardened criminal with years of ruthless ambition, with this effortless charm and disarming way of making you lose the blurred line of correct propriety. you tried not to stare at how the warm light caught his auburn hair, like the autumn leaves in the dappled sun.

and yet, it wasn’t just his looks that threw you off. it was the way he carried himself — like he had nothing to prove and everything to hide. dangerous in a different way, one that was far harder to guard against.

it reminded you of gojo satoru.

"you know, i have to admit," naoki said, gesturing to the gilded displays around him, "most of this stuff? tacky as hell. but then, you would be surprised what most people would pay for tacky."

from a swindler, fraud and scammer? you were quite sure.

"funny, coming from someone whose livelihood depends on it. isn't that gaudy by association?"

naoki winked, and you averted your gaze from long brown lashes fluttering against soft skin, "touché. but people don't want to just buy the artefact, or the cursed object. they want the story. that shit's priceless."

you swallowed, focusing on how gojo was trying to draw your attention to a glass case hidden by all the others, and you hoped you weren't squinting, "so, you're just a storyteller then?"

but beside you, naoki sato tilted his head, "you could say that."

you thought of the clipped photos printed into the file. some in black and white, and some in raging shades of colour. where naoki sato's hands had painted entire buildings in shades of sticky red, and heads rolled on the floor. where his enhance technique could burst arteries and lungs, leaving people in pieces on the floor.

"sounds dramatic," you said, though your voice came out quieter than you intended.

"life's dramatic, and too short to not take what i want," naoki replied with a faint smile, his hand lightly brushing your waist as he guided you further past long tables.

you leaned into it without thinking, a tiny movement that made a creamy, berry flush paint over naoki's features. and the sorcerer's laugh was warm, low, like he’d already won something you didn’t realise was at stake.

behind you, a sharp cough broke the moment.

gojo.

you let your lips curl into a faint smile and leaned into naoki's just a fraction more, with a very deliberate look, one that spoke of triumph and having tamed a beast.

gojo's scowl deepened, his shoulders taut with barely restrained frustration, and he started mouthing at you, silent as his lips parted. if you read his mouth carefully, well...

he was calling you rather unflattering names.

"what's that?" but it was gojo's voice that roughly cut through the air, like gravel grinding underfoot. his shaded eyes were fixed on the glass case tucked in the corner.

you followed his gaze, past his outstretched arm, and your stomach twisted.

raijin's amulet.

the cursed object you’d been hunting, the one you’d sworn to protect at all costs, gleamed innocently behind its protective glass. you could recognise the serpentine dragon coiled protectively around the stone at its centre, its intricate carving daring anyone to claim it.

your frantic eyes met gojo's. his were sharp, seething. then, both your gazes flicked to naoki.

naoki, of course, noticed nothing — or pretended not to. he let out a soft hum, following gojo's pointed stare.

"the bodyguard's interested too?"

you coughed, cutting through the rising tension before gojo could turn that look into something explosive. the glass case between them might as well have been kindling for the fire brewing.

"it's mainly for academics," you said, feigning an air of curiosity. then, with practiced innocence, you tilted your head and smiled at the dangerous special grade cursed object as if it were nothing more than an ordinary trinket.

"but it’s so pretty. what is it, really?"

naoki's hand tightened subtly on your waist, and you tried to ignore the guilt that bubbled up in your chest when his sharp features softened at your feigned interest.

"it’s just an old thing," he said, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret meant only for you, "did you know it once belonged to ryomen sukuna?"

your mouth was dry, but you kept your face blank, tilting your head as though you’d never heard the name before, "sukuna?"

naoki pressed his palm to the glass case, his expression shifting into something darker, more reverent.

"the king of curses," he murmured. "lived over a thousand years ago. ruthless. when he died, most of his treasures were plundered by clans too greedy for their own good. but this..." he tapped the glass softly. "this one? it wasn't easy to get my hands on."

you leaned closer, feigning fascination while calculating your next move, trying to figure out how you could get close enough to that glass case without shattering the illusion cast on naoki sato, "what does it do?"

for a moment, naoki's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. but just as quickly, his expression smoothed out, and he chuckled.

"trust me, beautiful," he said, his voice like silk with an edge of warning. "you don’t want to wear that thing. i could get you something far more...safe."

you forced a smile, ignoring the chill that ran down your spine. instead, you threw a quick, desperate glance at gojo — a silent plea for the strongest to listen to you: i'll distract him. you get the amulet.

gojo's expression tightened, but his head snapped once, briefly, in the faintest hint of acknowledgement.

time to move.

you let out a soft, breathy laugh and tugged naoki toward a table, your hand brushing his arm with casual ease. "let’s sit," you suggested, leaning into his toned chest just enough to sell the act. "all this walking is making me tired."

naoki's laughter was warm, a touch too easy, and he let you guide him without resistance, "tsk, whatever you want," he murmured.

now you're trusting gojo satoru, simply because you had no other choice. he had to get the amulet out of the glass before alarms began to blare, and before needless blood was spilt over the glimmering floor.

and so you sat, letting naoki have his back to gojo, oblivious to the white-haired shadow slipping closer to the case. your eyes lingered on gojo, pulse racing each time he disappeared behind one of naoki's own burly guards.

but then naoki sato's gaze locked onto you, drawing your attention back with a searing warmth that caught you off guard.

"so," he asked, eyes glinting, "what do you think of all...this?"

"it's impressive," and you're surprised at how the truth has found a home in your mouth, "i didn't ever think of different sorcerers, around the world."

naoki leaned closer, with his elbows on his thighs, propping his face upon his hands, "most people don't. here, it's all about jujutsu. tokyo, this. kyoto, that. the higher ups are so narrow-minded. stuck in their ways, obsessed with tradition. they don't know anything about the world out there."

for a moment, his words startled you. they weren’t the boastful musings of a crime boss but something else. they reminded you of how gojo spoke about the rigidity of the old ways, about why he fought so hard to change things, to create a better world for jujutsu sorcerers.

ah, focus.

"hey," naoki suddenly said, pulling you out of your thoughts. his gaze was sharper now, more intense. and over his shouder, you caught the faintest blur of white hair in the background, gojo's movements.

but it was hard to focus on anything but naoki sato's face — the sharp lines softened by his proximity, the warmth in his dark eyes that you didn’t want to admit was almost magnetic.

he was a man marked for execution, and the warrant must have been burning a hole through your suite on the highest floor.

yet here he was, looking at you like you were something worth risking everything for.

and suddenly, you weren’t sure you wanted to see autumn's locks matted with rusted blood. to see eyes go dull and lifeless.

you felt like you had the moral spine of a sponge.

"can i kiss you?"

the question hit like a punch to the gut. your lips parted, but no sound came out. and suddenly, the steps in the background stopped too.

naoki's hand came up to your jaw, his touch unexpectedly reverent, and all you could think was: distraction. right. distract him for gojo. what the fuck is taking him so long?

so you closed the distance.

naoki's lips captured yours with a softness that disarmed you, but the kiss was anything but tentative, and you could taste a sweet tang like lemons and sugar. but you let his large hands pull you closer and his touch was warm and intoxicating.

the kind that made you forget, just for a moment, that this was all a ruse.

his lips moved against yours with a heat that made everything else fade to black, and his hands slid down your waist and back, tracing lines that felt dangerously real.

when you finally pulled away for air, your lips tingled, and your breath came in short bursts. you couldn’t help yourself — you reached up, your fingers brushing against his now-flushed lips, glossy under your touch, and you hated the way your stomach twisted from the way naoki sato melted under your touch.

focus, again.

you hoped, prayed, that gojo was doing his part, taking advantage of the way you had naoki sato, one of the most dangerous men in the entire world, wrapped around your finger, and bruising his tongue into your mouth.

but your gaze flicked upwards, past his shoulder and collided with something that stopped your heart cold.

electric blue. devastatingly vibrant, crackling with a fury that hit the air like a thunderstorm.

gojo's eyes pinned you in place, shadows pooling in sharp cerulean, from shades that had slipped just a touch down his nose. no mask to shield whatever expression gojo had clearly painted across his face.

hurt? anger? what the fuck, was that betrayal?

your throat tightened, and you resisted the urge to dig your nails into naoki's tailored jacket, to hiss at gojo to get a move on. to stop standing there like he had been hit with a shovel.

but the words didn't quite form, didn't pull at the corners of your mouth to silently shape them. his expression just held you captive, no. shamed you.

and that made you angrier. he had no right to look at you like that, like you had just crossed a line that you didn't even know was there.

but under you, naoki shifted, tilted your chip up to meet his lips again, and you let him. you...wanted him to. but the heat of his lips didn't drown out the chill of gojo's stare. your own body betrayed you with a shiver, one that you couldn't quite place yourself.

nerves, or desire.

the kiss was firmer this time, insistent, as if naoki sato was staking his claim in front of an invisible audience. his hand cupped the back of your neck, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw with maddening ease, over the pulse of your neck.

and for a second, it was too easy to fall into the lie. but you felt it: the searing weight of gojo's glower burning into you, not far away.

naoki pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning your lips, "hey, you're distracted," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, his eyes scanning your face as though he wanted to read every thought. "should i be offended?"

"no," you said quickly, almost too quickly, "just a lot to take in."

naoki smiles, all coy and glazed lips, clearly pleased by what he thought was pure flattery, and not the glowering six-eyes shining behind him. "good. i think 'm gonna like leaving you speechless."

part of you knows that you just aren't seeing those pearly gates of heaven.

naoki's warm thumb lingers against your jaw, and your breath hitches just enough for the sorcerer to notice. you don't miss how his eyes darken, a hint of triumph gleaming in them.

you risked a glance past his shoulder again, and gojo was still there, stony-faced as naoki's own guards. but there's something else broiling in his eyes, rolling over his face like a thunderstorm cracks over a grassy plain. the fury in his eyes hadn't lessened, but now it was laced with something sharper, something that you can finally read.

jealousy. absolute glass-shattering, world-stopping levels of envy paint over gojo satoru's face.

the realisation hits you like a punch to the gut.

was he jealous of naoki sato? of you? of this entire charade that you both had agreed to? or rather, the one you had roped him into.

the idea shouldn’t have thrilled you, but it did. and it terrified you just as much.

you let naoki kiss you again, forcing yourself to deepen it this time, your hands coming up to rest against his hard chest. you don't miss how he suddenly parts from your lips, panting softly into your mouth, and suddenly you're hit with the most awful wave of longing for a man who cannot have.

naoki’s large hands, however, weren’t idle. one brushed the edge of your dress, under the shoulder strap of your powder-blue gown, his thumb grazing against the fabric, and your breath hitched.

you shift, your breath stuttering as naoki's other hand slides higher, his fingers brushing against the flesh of your thigh, pushing your dress higher, and his hand brushes against the silver details on the side, scratching your skin. it's maddening how cool air meets the heat of your now exposed skin, and naoki's mouth crushes against yours, as if he's equally savouring the taste of you.

"t-there are people here," you gasp, your voice a fractured whisper, trembling at the edge of composure, "what if they can see or watch?"

gojo satoru is here. gojo is watching. you know your partner is close enough to hear every breathless sound you make, every treasonous whine that slips past your lips.

but naoki sato's mouth is curved into a plush, wicked smile, "let them look," and his teeth are grazing against the curve enough in a way that makes you arch your back into him, he who is now leaning over you, as if he's the one trying to capture you, "who cares - hah?"

any reasonable thought of your duty. of honour, of a mission flees from your head.

the sight of gojo's softly parted mouth and darkened eyes as he watches you in another man's arms spurs you on, and you let naoki sato press his lips against the hollow of his throat.

naoki's long fingers are blazing as they reach the very apex of your thighs. as they press two rough pads into the sopping slick that's gathered in your panties, as they run themselves along dampened fabric in a way that has you openly keening.

"can i?" and your eyes meet the mahogany gaze of the man above you. it's electrifying. you should be ashamed, furious at how you're just being taken like this, on display. but this is a room of the seven deadly sins, where each corner of the room is a lesson in hedonism, and obscene wealth.

"please."

but your eyes are only on gojo satoru behind him. on how he catches the pale-pink of his bottom lip between his teeth, and his face is seething. how his darkened eyes drop to naoki's hand working its way between your legs, and you wantonly roll your hips up to meet him there.

you let writhing fingers slip under the waistband of your pale-blue underwear, dipping into glossy, thick arousal. but you also don't miss the tent in gojo satoru's grey slacks, only metres away, and the frenzied look making him look pained.

you would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy moaning openly, spreading your legs just a bit wider, so gojo could get a glimpse of your drooling cunt.

"fuck, 's good. so good, naoki."

a finger travels up, away from your winking entrance to press a soft flick against your throbbing clit, "yeah?"

and the beautiful man in between your legs all but purrs. pleased beyond measure at how you've apparently been captured, heart and soul by him. and your attention snaps back to how he suddenly draws his fingers off your soaked cunt, and brings them up to his mouth.

"sweetest thing i've ever tasted, i think 'm gonna have -"

and then, it hit you.

a hot, sticky spray of liquid.

the scent of iron slammed into your senses as fresh blood splattered across your face, your chest, and stained the delicate blue of your dress into a deep and damning red. it clung to your skin, to your lips as you pressed your mouth shut, fighting the bile rising in your throat.

reversal: red crackled in the air, cursed energy humming sharp, and it had sliced through the hall like a whip. naoki's arm had been torn from your waist, wrenched away as he staggered back with a guttural hiss, and you avert your eyes from the blood that paints the space between you.

"that's enough."

gojo satoru's voice is like a thunderclap, reverberating around your ears, and when you finally meet his gaze, you're met with unbridled fury. you're not sure where his shades have gone, but you're met with the full weight of six-eyes, blazing and unrelenting.

naoki stumbles ahead of you, clutching his shoulder where blood seeps through his fingers, torn between shock and raw rage. his cherry-lips are curled back into a snarl, flush with indignation.

"hah, you're a sorcerer?," and naoki sato's voice drips with venom, heavy with disbelief.

you're not quite sure gojo satoru needs to answer. not when his presence alone sends waves of cold through the hall, cutting the air precisely, cleaving it.

but there's a man running towards the commotion, a guard encumbered by a hefty black suit, and there's a cold shock that runs through you as your eyes fall on the gun at his side.

"we think that's gojo satoru," the guard wheezes, breathless.

"you're telling me this now? i gave you fuckwits one job," naoki snarls, shaking the man, with his nails dug into the guard's shoulder.

and you're quickly pushing your dress down, letting the fabric spill over your legs once more, fighting back the hot sparks that sting at your eyes.

it's enough to snap naoki's attention back to you. and for a moment, for the briefest of moment, he wasn't the hardened criminal you had been playing this dangerous game with. a boy your age, wild and beautiful, and utterly undone.

and it heaves your stomach at how the fury in his gaze trembles slightly, just enough to reveal betrayal underneath that strikes you harder than any limitless could.and it struck you harder than any whip of magic ever could.

"i must be stupid, fuck," naoki's voice cracks as he spits the words, his expression twisted with something raw, something painfully human, "you’re a jujutsu sorcerer too, aren't you?"

the accusation was a dagger, his voice trembling with disbelief but its wholly true, and your head wavers in a half-shake, half-nod.

"you’re with him, aren't you? just another one of the higher up's lapdogs?"

the words weren’t a question — they were a condemnation.

naoki's lips are curled, and his bloodied arm is now trembling but steady, defiance burning through the pain.

and a whisper in your mind tells you to smash the glass case holding the amulet, to push through it with your bare hands, just so you can bleed alongside him.

but naoki sato's bitter scoff shatters that thought, and his gaze must have followed yours, sharp and knowing, for his hand has moved faster, pulling the gun from the guard's holster.

the blast came before you could even think, loud and jarring.

but you never saw the bullet's path, only gojo.

gojo, whose arm has snapped in front of you like a barrier, impossibly fast, and well within the bounds of his infinity. as if he had tore through space itself.

the bullet collides with infinity, ricocheting into the chaos of the panicking crowd.

naoki’s gaze didn’t waver. it slices back to gojo, sharp, calculating, and darkly amused. he must have seen it now, everything.

the truth was etched in the way gojo had positioned himself, the way his blazing blue eyes never left you, the unspoken claim humming in the air like a second heartbeat.

naoki sato's laugh is lower, bitter, and you watch the mesmerising plink! of crimson on the floor.

"he's protecting you, isn’t he?" his voice dripped with venom, each word striking like a dagger, "how sweet.”

and just like that, something broke. gojo's restraint, most likely.

you can see how his fingers are flexing, his hands lifting and cursed energy is coiling at his fingertips. his thumb and index finger brush, a telltale sign of an impending blast. hollow purple.

you clench your eyes shut, bracing for the devastation of the impact —

but naoki sato was faster.

his arms snapped outward, a surge of his own jujutsu ripping through the space between you. the bodyguards around you crumpled like ragdolls, their bodies bursting under the pressure. blood sprayed in thick, sticky waves, painting the walls, the floor — against the edges of infinity.

you opened your eyes in time to see gojo falter, his hands trembling as he stared at the carnage. even he, the unflinching sorcerer, the strongest, looked shaken by the sheer brutality of what cursed technique: enhance was capable of.

and in the heartbeat of his hesitation, naoki was gone.

"fuck's sake! s-satoru! let go of me!" you snap, voice cracking with fury as you fight against gojo's tight grasp.

his vivid focus shoots back to you, his expression a storm of anger and disbelief, "what?" and gojo's voice is razer-sharp, "if you think i'm letting you go after that stunt you pulled -"

"shut up!" and you can feel your own desperation cut through the air, "you go after him, i'll go after the amulet."

you toss your head to the shattered glass and the chaos erupting all around you, "if that thing gets lost in the mess, we've done this all for nothing!"

gojo's jaw is clenched, his mouth pressed into a hard and furious line. for a moment, you think he's going to argue with you again, but then you're dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

pain shoots through your knees as you land, but you're soon hauling yourself up.

"go!" you hiss, shoving at his shoulder, "i'll come find you when i have it."

gojo hesitates for a fraction of a second longer, then he's gone — a blur of movement faster than your eyes could track, leaving you alone in the chaos.

your hands tremble as you grab a heavy steel bar from the wreckage, swinging it with all your strength at the glass case. the sound of shattering glass barely registers as you reach inside, your fingers curling around the cold, smooth surface of the amulet.

wild shocks run through you, and you almost keel over, feeling the rush and pulse of such a cursed object against your skin. but it's safe. you have it now.

with it clutched tightly in your hand, you turned and run.

by now, you can't find it within yourself to stop the hot tears from running down your cheeks, streaming freely as you tear through the blood-soaked scene.

you run, the air sharp and cold against your skin, your heartbeat an unrelenting drum in your ears. the thump! making your head pound.

you can follow the residuals of gojo's cursed energy, lingering like a sickly beacon, drawing you back to the dull parking lot. you pushed open the doors with both hands, red smudging onto the concrete as you ignored the sting of your palms

and then you saw it. saw it all.

the scene hits you like a wrecking ball, knocking the breath clean from your lungs.

a body lies crumpled on the ground, its lifelessness more harrowing than the carnage that surrounds it. blood, thick and sticky, smears across the concrete. massive pillars, toppled like a child's toys in the wake of a clear explosion.

your gaze snags on a limp hand sprawled on the floor, and you feel your stomach twist. instinctively, your tongue slides against the back of your teeth, and the metallic tang of iron is already sleeping into your senses.

and then, there was gojo satoru.

he stands amid the wreckage, like a figure carved from shadows, and ice. and fury. his chest softly rises and falls, as though he had been running for miles, his hair disheveled and darkened with sweat.

the sight of him might have almost been human, almost comforting. if not for the gore streaked across his hands, and the thing he drops onto the concrete with a hollow thud.

you don't look at it. you don't think you can. your stomach knows the truth before your mind catches up, bile heaving within you once more.

the head of naoki sato. he would never have stood a chance against the strongest sorcerer in modern history.

final task: retrieve artefact. execute naoki sato on site. alternatively, bring in for execution.

you mind flashes back to that dastardly pink sticky note, still stuck to the case file.

what did you feel now? anger? sadness?

maybe both. maybe neither.

the blood pooling in front of gojo is already congealing, its sickly shine dimming in the cold, fluorescent light of the lot.

you were tired of seeing blood, of tasting it on your tongue, of breathing it in like the very air you needed to survive.

you’d thought there would be relief in the end. but instead, disappointment had rooted itself deep inside you, twisting itself.

naoki sato, for all his crimes and cruetly, had been...something. somewhere beneath the sly smirks and sharp words, there had been glimpses of something that almost looked like hope. he had said he wanted better — for everyone. for you. was it a lie? or had you twisted his words into something more comforting than the truth, desparate to see light where there was none?

your throat burns, but no tears come. just a hollow ache that matches the cold weight of raijin's amulet in your hand. you looked at it now, the thing you’d fought so hard to win, its edges biting into your skin, the dragon leaving its mark.

gojo's voice cut through the silence, low and ragged, and tired, "don’t look."

you hadn’t even realised you were staring, your eyes hovering dangerously close to the lifeless hand on the ground.

"i'm sorry," he had continued, his tone strangely neutral, as if apologising for a cracked glass rather than the irrevocable violence around him, that seemed to trail after him, "i had to do it."

you laughed then, short and bitter, the sound cracking like a whip against the cold air. "had to, gojo?" your voice trembled, not with fear, but something darker. something far more raw.

his gaze had snapped to you, and there it was — the thing that always churned between you two. a storm of emotions, tangled so tightly you could no longer tell where hate ended and yearning began.

"you think this is the resolution i wanted?" gojo shot back, his voice laced with something too jagged to be regret. "you think i enjoyed that?"

and in the most twisted, perverse theatre of your mind's eye, you see gojo's open-mouthed stare, focused on how another man touched you, made you his.

"i don’t know what you enjoy anymore," you take a step closer, your grip tightening on amulet until your knuckles whitened. but the air pushed from your lungs, "but - god, gojo. forget it. i-i don't even know. 'm sorry, too."

gojo sighs, and you see the exhaustion hanging over him too, "we'll go back tomorrow morning."

the walk back to your room is…suffocating. the air is thick with everything that you just cannot say, words that you can't even bring your heavy tongue to shape.

gojo is beind you, and you can feel the weight of his presence pressing between your shoulder blades, but you just can't turn around. you don't dare to. raijin's amulet is still clenched in your hand, and its edges are cutting into your palm, a form of self-flagellation you suppose.

you push the door open, and your breath catches and hitches as you slip inside, slamming it shut after he follows. locking it with shaking hands.

in the suite, the moonlight now slices through the half-drawn curtains, as the tokyo skyline glimmers underneath you. it's painting silver lines across gojo's spectral frame, and he strides to the amenities sink, a smaller outlet near the door.

you watch, as though you're holding a sacred vigil.

your gaze doesn't leave gojo's figure as he throws his jacket off his sharp torso with a disgusted sigh, leaving him in his black dress shirt and a loosened tie.

still watching as his movements are tense, restless as he cups water from the faucet in his hands, splashing it onto his face.

when he finally looks up, gojo's white is hair dripping, his tie slightly askew, and his tired eyes catch yours like a snare.

for a moment, you’re frozen. neither of you say a word. the air feels too thin to breathe, and his gaze is too much — too piercing, too relentless, too him.

you can’t take it.

with a sharp motion, you slam the amulet onto the table, the sound echoing through the quiet room. you spin on your heel and lock yourself in the bathroom, shutting him out.

inside, the luxurious space feels surreal. marble floors gleam under the soft glow of recessed lighting, gold fixtures glinting and stinging your eyes. it smells faintly of jasmine and mint, too perfect for the mess you're about to create.

you grip the edge of the sink as the first sob wrenches its way out of your chest, hot and raw.

tears spill over, cascading down your cheeks in waves you can’t control. they come faster, harder, until you’re gasping, choking on gulps of air that burn in your throat.

you sink onto the cool floor tiles, your knees pulled to your chest as the sobs wrack your body. the weight of everything, what you did, gojo's eyes gleaming, naoki sato's hands on you, the smell of blood, it all crashes over you like a tidal wave. it’s too much for a human heart to bear in one night.

but your hands are shaking as you reach for the hem of your once beautiful dress, peeling it off with clumsy, desperate motions. the air is cool against your skin, you who is now left in undergarments.

and you stare blankly at the blood that smears your arms and legs, before grabbing a small towel, dampening it under the sink and wiping crimson stains away.

small cuts sting on your skin, faint patches where glass struck you, and you hiss.

a knock rattles the bathroom door, sharp and unrelenting, dragging you back to reality.

you close your eyes and exhale through gritted teeth, your voice brittle, "not now, gojo."

silence follows, stretching out long enough to offer the illusion of peace. but then it breaks. another knock, louder, more insistent this time.

"satoru, i swear to god," you snap, your exhaustion fraying into something sharp, laced with more venom now.

there’s a sigh from the other side, audible even through the thick wood, "don't make me blast this door down."

you groan, rolling your eyes as you toss the bloodied towel onto the counter, "you wouldn't dare."

"try me. just open the door, would'you?"

you don’t have the energy to argue, and something in his tone tells you that gojo isn’t bluffing. and so you dragged yourself upright, swinging the door open with more force than necessary.

gojo stands there, with damp hair still clinging to his forehead, beads of water trailing down his templates. and his sleeves are rolled up now, revealing thick forearms flecked with rust and crimson. it wouldn't be his. no, gojo hasn't bled in over a decade.

you straighten, aware of your own state right now. in your undergarments, only shielding you from being entirely bare under his gaze. but the only clothes in this room with you are now crumpled on the floor, in a heap of ice-blue and dark red.

let him look. he's seen more than enough now.

and so you lean back against the sink, crossing your arms as your eyes meet blue, "what do you want?"

gojo hesitates, his jaw tightening as he braces himself. when he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough around the edges, "just...asking if you're alright."

the laugh that escapes you is sharp and hollow, devoid of any humour, "why wouldn't i be?"

gojo's faze flickers, his expression unreadable, but his eyes linger a moment too long. you let him trace the dried blood smeared across your collarbone, the faint scratches on your skin.

"after all of that tonight..." he starts, but the words hang in the air between the two of you, unfinished. his voice suddenly falters, and you're struck by how gojo's razor-sharp confidence has dulled into something weaker, more conflicted.

you know exactly what he means. the stunt he's referring to, in his own earlier words. you wonder what exactly is eating at him now. is it honest concern, pride? residual envy?

"please, trust me. i'm fine, we managed to do what was asked of us, anyway," you clip curtly, hoping your tone is final enough.

gojo looks at you like he doesn't believe a single syllable that slips from your bitten lips, but then his shoulders sag and he exhales sharply, "fine," he mutters, turning on his heel as if he's the one that can't stand to be near you any longer.

"wait."

the word slips out before you can stop it, and gojo pauses, and his eyes are narrowed with suspicion.

you swallow hard, suddenly unsure of yourself, and lift a clean towel from the counter, helping yourself to another one of the hotel's free amenities, "can you help me with this?"

an olive branch.

you gesture with a single finger, over dried blood that has streaked over your back, your neck. the hollow of your collarbone.

you can see the refusal dancing on his tongue, the hesitation in the way his throat bobs, and how gojo's eyes flicker over you once more.

but he doesn't refuse. gojo just wordlessly steps forward, taking the towel from your outstretched hand. you watch, silently, as he moves to the sink and runs it under cold water. you're sitting on the edge of the counter now so you face him, watching the warm golden glow of the overhead lights in his pale hair.

the porcelain is cold against your thighs as you angle yourself away from the mirror, facing gojo. the towel in his hand drips faintly, and you watch as he hesitates again, just for a fraction of a second before stepping closer.

at first, his movements are slow and careful. he's raising the towel, and his hand is steady as you feel the first touch of the cool fabric against your back. a shiver practically races down your spine, not from the cold, but from the way his arm snakes behind you, brushing against your bare skin.

it's subtle at first, but you notice it. the hitch in his breath, the faint tremour in his movements.

gojo, who is always so infuriatingly composed, is shaken. you hear it in the sorcerer's uneven exhale that he doesn't quite manage to suppress, the way his fingers press the towel just a little too harshly.

the suite is silent now except for the faint drip of water and the rasp of fabric against your skin. you should say something, anything, but the words don’t come. instead, your gaze fixes on him, his profile illuminated by the warm glow of the bathroom light.

gojo's features are always striking, almost ethereal: the ice-white hair that falls messily against his forehead, the long white lashes that frame those sharp, cerulean-blue eyes. there’s something softened by the warm light, as though the harshness of his presence, of a man who stands above heaven and earth, has been dulled just enough to make him seem almost...human again.

but you feel as though your heart must just give way, pounding so hard that it may burst. where the blood that fell from another man's veins had somehow drawn a line to gojo satoru instead.

an hour ago, you had been arched into another, naoki sato, one who had been a dead man walking. an hour ago, his hands were on you, his lips hot and insistent, and his eyes were warm, and now he’s gone. dead. gojo made sure of that. and that was always meant to happen.

the thought should make you furious. it should make you push gojo away, but instead, all you can do is sit there, feeling his hands —gentle now, impossibly careful, on your skin.

it's wrong. it's so deeply, fundamentally wrong, and yet the space another man left feels like it was carved out for gojo satoru all along.

gojo's touch slows as he runs the towel over your skin, tracing the line of your collarbone with a precision that feels almost tender. your eyes slip closed for a moment, the warmth of his hand lingering even as the cold water wipes away the blood.

then he moves again.

it happens fast enough that you barely register it. one second, gojo satoru is standing tall and focused on the task, and the next...he's leaning down. his breath ghosting over the hollow of your neck.

you feel your entire world tilt as his lips press softly against the curve where your neck meets your shoulder, a touch so light that it feels stolen.

but now you've frozen, every breath catching as though the air was snatched from your lungs. every nerve feels as though it's on fire, hyper-aware of how soft the brush of his lips was, the faint scrape of his teeth just shy of your skin.

how gojo's lips were almost reverent, like a prayer offered in silence. how he was worshipping something he couldn't ever have.

but your eyes snap open to meet his.

gojos's cerulean eyes are molten, the usual ice cracked and melting into something deep and desperate and all-consuming. they bore into yours, wild and unguraded, and the pale lashes framing them tremble lighting as though even he's unsure of what he's just done.

but gojo's pupils are also blown wide, and electric. like a storm trapped in glass.

you swallow hard, your pulse thundering in your throat. slowly, cautiously, you dip your head, just enough to give him permission without saying a word.

the look in his eyes shifts — hunger, disbelief, and something darker all tangled together. he presses his lips to your neck again, firmer this time, lingering as though committing the feel of your skin to memory. then again, slightly higher, his breath hot and uneven against you.

"satoru…" the name slips from your lips in a whisper, trembling and unbidden.

the warmth of his tongue catches you off guard, tracing the curve of your neck in a way that sends a jolt through your entire body, heat down to your thighs. it's...unhinged, but the part of you that should push him away is nowhere to be found.

gojo pulls back just enough for you to see the faint smile curling at the corner of his mouth, though his eyes remain dark, intense, and burning with something that feels too big for the room.

"another man got to taste you," he whispers, "now i've tasted him."

you almost laugh, sharp and bitter. the sound lodging in your throat. the absurdity of it all, the jealously lacing his words like a poison vine, the way his breath still fans against your skin.

"that's insane," you manage, your voice shaking. it does little to stop the searing heat curling low in your stomach.

for a second, gojo's breath is still hot against your neck. and then suddenly, his hands are on you.

and fuck, it's not delicate at all. there's a roughness to his touch, desparate and unrestrained, as though something inside him as finally snapped.

his palms trace along your bare shoulders, sliding down to your arms, and then to your waist. his fingers press into your skin with a heat that makes you feel like you're burning from the inside out. you don't even realise when you had opened your mouth slightly, panting as if you're trying to pull more air in.

"gojo," you manage, barely audible, and you're acutely aware of the low tense ache beginning to throb in your groin.

his hands slow for a moment, resting on your sides as if he’s trying to ground himself, or stop himself. and gojo's eyes find yours again, and they’re ablaze.

"can i keep going?"

you wonder just how you've managed to unravel this man, to leave his voice hanging by a thread in the air.

you don’t answer right away, your head swimming with confusion, slick desire, and something dangerously close to surrender. gojo satoru is watching you so intently it’s like he’s searching for every unspoken answer written on your skin.

finally, you shift — subtle, but enough. your knees part slightly, just enough for him to step between your bare thighs.

"what do you want me to do?"

you're aware of the insistent, rhythmic pulsing under your panties. of how every small shift of gojo's body against yours amplifies the soft arousal forming, as your heart pounds faster.

and so you let your fingers hook onto the pale waistband of your underwear, and you watch as his gaze follows your movements.

"i want you to touch me, there. please."

you hear the white-haired man breathe out a thankful, reverent fuck before he's following the path of your own hands, hooking a slender finger into your waistband and pulling your underwear down, and off.

and you're so painfully aware of your own arousal right now, the wet that is pooling beneath you. it feels like a relief, parting your legs so your searing heat meets cool air.

"that's perfect, look at t-that," and you're suddenly whining as gojo's fingertips begin grazing sloppy folds, raking themselves over your fluttering entrance, "she's practically been beggin' for my touch all this time, hah!"

"you - ohh, gojo!" you moan, feeling awfully faint from the rippling warmth making your cunt tighten around him, each pshh! echoing in your burning ears, "y-you wish!"

gojo's laugh is a little crazed, undone as he rolls his fingers in practiced curls, at an inhuman pace. bullying his fingers into your opening, as he rasps, "yeah, i w-wish. 'm wishing for this all the time. you never knew, huh?"

"f-fuck, if i had known it felt like this, would've stuck my fingers in h-her a long time ago," gojo unfurls his fingers that only just separated from your winking pussy, and you can only watch.

equally mesmerised as his slender fingers are coated in strands of your slick, clinging to the curves of his short nails and coating them in a mirror sheen.

"have some c-class, gojo! you've lost your fuckin' mind -"

smack!

"i swear to god, gojo. never say that corny shit a-again."

but gojo's teeth are sharp as they sink into the damp skin of your neck with an almost reverent press, easily snapping through the delicate flesh.

still, there's hardly time to dissect that.

"keep your eyes h-here, sweets. on us."

and god, that's exactly where your eyes are. falling on a tense forearm around your waist, as the other works its fierce way through the clamping, gummy walls of your leaking cunt. and you're shuddering underneath him, feeling each brush of his fingers in you.

"w-we make a pretty sight, don't we, yeah?" and the words are spilling from gojo's lips with a certain smugness, but it's rough around the edges, strained. and you just can't look away from how utterly ruined he looks, from touching you.

you watch the glossed shine of your trickling pussy twinkle in the warm lights, as gojo pushes your thighs open wider. his frame leans over yours, taut and straining. and his lips are flushed and parted, betraying the deep ache of his breath.

"go onnn, say it. c'mon," and now gojo's whining in your ear, letting his hand push further into the mess as your pussy is practically weeping onto his fingertips, "won't let you c-cum if you don't say it."

your chest heaves with each desperate, gulping breath. and you can see gojo's vision narrow on how your tits threaten to spill out from their confines, the swell of your chest rising as you try to draw air through your close orgasmic daze. where the edges of your vision blur, and your heart is pounding erratically, "ahhh, gojo! 'm gonna, i think 'm gonna, oh my god!"

but there's more, you want so much more.

and against better thought, you push and elbow back into gojo's chest, heaving as he flicks his thumb over your aching clit.

"hah, what is it now? fuck was that for?" and the man is scowling at you, seemingly irritated that you drew him away from the hypnotic pull of your pulsing walls.

you swivel, away from the mirror so you're facing him. and your eyes fall on the heavy, pitched tent in gojo's grey slacks, one that must be aching and awfully painful from the way he's running his pink tongue over his bruised mouth.

"wan' more, gojo. on the bed."

you've reached up behind your back, unhooking the clip that was holding your bra together. it falls, and you toss it into the pile where gojo had flung your clingy panties, over your gorgeous dress.

and you think gojo satoru might have just had a minor heart attack.

his expression has shifted, lips parted as he takes in your naked form. you think you hear his breath hitch, as his eyes roam over you, unblinking. you're certain that the mildly brighter light in the room has nothing to do with what's overhead, rather the bright blue of gojo's six eyes.

you snicker at his dumbstruck expression, letting your hand curl around his wrist — marvelling at how he almost whines at the sight of you pushing him out of the bathroom suite, and onto that glorious bed that the two of you had argued over earlier in the day.

"n-not so opposed to sharing a bed with me now, sweets? oh, fuck," you don't let him get any more words out, since you're reaching for the sleek leather belt threading through the loops of his slacks, pawing at them so you can finally undress him. have him as bare as you are now.

something in your desparate touch must have made gojo snap, because now he's shuffling the two of you around, so you're practically splayed out under his warm, large hands. thighs spread, parted so your dripping cunt is displayed to the room, as he scoots closer. his knees pressing against the carpet.

"hnnghh, f-fuck, look at her. practically cryin' on me."

and what a sight. gojo satoru, the most powerful man to walk this earth in centuries is slumped beneath your thighs, close enough to your clit that when he breathes, he knocks his nose right over the sensitive bud, coating his face in that syrupy glaze.

and then its slow, painful. how his long tongue descends onto your weeping pussy, writhing flat in wide, broad strokes that leave you whining out his name.

you spread your legs even wider, fighting against gojo's tight grip on the flesh of your thighs. the thighs that are trembling as he brings his teeth up to graze your clit, and your arousal drips from his lips. making candied pink lips look like they've been glazed and dipped in sugar.

briefly, in the back of your mind, you wonder how you're going to continue to function tomorrow. how you're going to even be able to walk after gojo satoru has rendered you boneless.

you also wonder if there's a cosmic deity out there, looking at an invisible and heavenly camera with a dull look on their face. something like what can you do?

"mmhph, y'know i l-like this a lot better than that drink from earlier," and he's cooing at how you squeal and moan, "hah, what was that s-shit called? a cream soda."

you pull at the white strands of his hair, yanking gojo's head back from where his tongue had been lolling around your clit, ignoring his whine, "if y-you make a stupid, fuckin' joke about creaming, i'm g-gonna leave."

gojo rolls his eyes, but this time? this time, there's no malice in it, no irritation. his expression is almost fond, if not shadowed by the enormity of his own lust, "leaving before the main event is dumb choice, sweets."

"tch! get to i-it then, oh! what the fuck, gojo!"

he's found the right place to prod, to roll his fingers over the hood of your clit, occasionally propping his mouth down to suck at it lightly. your mouth is clamped shut, so you don't release an absurd amount of babble, wordless and airless about how good he's devouring you.

"hah," gojo huffs, pressing three flat fingers against your entrance, letting them curl into your walls, enough to tease you, "i can feel her beating for me. 's pulsing all over."

"c-can't you jus' make me cum?" your hands are desparate for some friction, running past your perked tits, down to his hair again. now clamping your thighs around his head, and the soft, snowy hair of his head tickles at your skin.

"can' believe you're talking shit when i'm e-eating you out," gojo chuckles, but you're just too mesmerised by the glint of your slick lighting a beacon over the lower half of his face, strands of slick as he pulls away from your pussy, "y'not that patient, huh?"

he's practically attached to your clit now, kissing it with a tender and yet firm press of his lips, seemingly aware of just how sensitive you are to that type of pressure.

you whimper and mewl as gojo's head disappeared back between your legs, deeper and lower as his tongue pushes into your pussy, flicking shallow thrusts that makes you breathe out gasps of his name.

"now i think 'm gonna cum, so close, satoru," with your hand firmly lodged in his platinum strands, you're rocking your hips messily, sloppily against his awaiting mouth.

"y-yeah? go on, sweets," he's moaning now too, and you don't miss how the edge of the bed rocks just a bit from him grinding the frame for some release on his own erection.

your orgasm makes your mind foggy, and you practically quake in gojo's large, warm hands. with a sharp cry of his name, followed by an endless chant of praise for the unearthly man between your legs, lapping at you as though you are his last drink, his last meal on this earth before he ascends elsewhere.

the hard streaks of white shoot through your vision, even as you come down from the incredible high, and you realise gojo has not stopped.

gojo's jaw is still locked as your slick dribbles down your folds, into his open mouth and onto his waiting tongue. the extra stimulation makes you deliriously cry out, "fuck, s-satoru! 's too much, holy fuck!"

you were still shaking, and a second orgam blurred your sight into an incredible spectrum of colours, white hot starlight and streaks of blue. that cascade of vivid tints flood your vision, each one jerking your hips and cunt forward until you felt your legs give way.

until gojo finally separated himself from your thighs, satisfied at how he had pulled two climaxes from you.

he's absolutely lost it, lost in that daze of being pussywhipped, and his eyes gleam with a feverish intensity. and when he crashes pink, glossy lips down on your mouth, you can feel him shake under your touch.

you moan, loud, as he nips at your lower lip. at how you can taste yourself on his tongue, syrup strands falling into your mouth as gojo suddenly twitches.

"i think 'm gonna have to be in you right now, otherwise i'll literally fuckin' die."

a breathy laugh falls from your lips as your partner pulls himself up, heavy limbs finally extracting themselves away from your naked body, reaching up to hook his fingers over the black crinkle of his rumpled dress shirt, pulling the fabric off.

leaving your mouth dry.

the moonlight spills over gojo's torso, and you track your eyes over his broad chest, rising and falling and flushed from his own arousal.

you follow the faint dusting of pale white hair as it disappeared past the waistband of his slacks that he's quickly making short work of, and you feel your pussy clench thinking about how badly you need to jump gojo satoru's bones.

but you're too transfixed by him, by the sculpted figure of a supposedly cold and arrogant bastard you've spent months and years rolling your eyes at.

he's real. all hot flesh and blood, and stunning. not that sneering, and infuriating man who's always one step ahead, always one callous word away from making your blood boil.

for a different heat has settled in you now, as your eyes fall on his throbbing cock that has sprung forth, up over his stomach. the tip is an angry, and furious berry-pink and you wonder just how you're going to make these inches fit.

"hah, didn’t think you'd be this shy, you know,” he says, voice a low, husky tease, as if he’s been watching your struggle. gojo's eyes glint with amusement, but there’s something deeper beneath it, something that you hope with lead him to take mercy on you.

"n-no. no," you repeat yourself more firmly, but it's far too breathless to be convincing, "no, 'm not shy."

but it's hard to form coherent thoughts when gojo satoru is towering over you, and his absurdly long and girthy shaft is twitching in between your slick folds.

"fuck you, s-satoru," you're whimpering, feeling the pulsing, rounded head of his flushed tip brush past your sensitive, drooling slit, "taking too long. jus' put it in already."

"mhmm, sweets," and gojo's bustling at your thighs now, pinching the soft and tender skin in retaliation for your touch undoing him so easily, "she can't even be patient, hah, trus' me. just lay back."

you comply, just this once. just because gojo satoru's cock looks so big, you think you need to gather all your thoughts so you'll be able to form coherent sentences later.

resting your head back on plush sheets, with the skyline twinkling in your peripheral vision as gojo's aligning himself with your cunt. he's gasping in low, shuddering breaths as his tip teases and hooks onto your inner walls.

"look at thaaat, oh! baby, fuck, wasn' even joking before, just sucking me up so fuckin' good!"

you don't reply, just mewling as he pushes inch after veiny inch into your dribbling walls, gasping as his large hands rest on the back of your thighs, pushing them further up so he can slot his torso in between your legs.

"oh my god, satoru! s-satoru, hnnhgh, it's too much — i don' think it's gon' fit," you always thought you would be embarrassed to lose composure like this in front of gojo, but you find yourself panting into the crook of his neck, raking nails down his flushed neck.

he's big, and you can feel every vein of his tapered curve hitting the right spots within you, as you shift your hips, desperate to let his sinuous cock kiss every inch of your pussy lovingly.

"gon' dumb already?" gojo's huffing, but you can see that he's not unaffected. his eyes are glazed over, hazy as he slowly draws his hips back just an inch, before scooting them forward already, "jus' gonna have to make this pussy learn from now on. don' worry, sweets. it'll fit."

the 'from now on' makes something in your pounding heart flutter.

but you have little time to focus on it as he bottoms out in your drenched cunt, as though you're hearing the slosh of your pussy coat him entirely, right up to the wiry, white hairs on his groin.

"hahh, there we go! the w-wonders of a positive attitude, don'tcha think?" and you're left with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, as he begins to pick up the pace. a steady staccato that has you jostling underneath his ministrations.

you let his mouth chase yours, capturing glossy lips with your own bite, letting him pant, and whine and praise the heavens above for how tight you're snatching him right now.

"she's p-perfect, isn't she? t-thought about it so much, y'got no idea, got no c-clue about how much i thought about you under me like this n' how you'd f-feel!"

gojo satoru is absolutely drunk from a nectar that he has tasted once. the same nectar that coats his cock in frothy, filthy rings as he pistons his hips out of your pussy.

"happy for y-you, satoru," and you're letting your nails scratch over the shell of his ear as he twitches and shudders, "but fuck, y'talk too much! jus' focus on fucking me!"

gojo's mouth quirks upwards, that knowing smirk playing on his lips as he looks at you bemused, and so hazy.

"god, a lot of that attitude now, hahh?" and he's drawling the words out, and you don't miss how he shudders when you clench around his shaft, on purpose. he's leaning in closer, barely brushing past your lips, and you wonder briefly for a split-second, gojo satoru might just really love you.

and then, without warning, his hand comes down to your side, just underneath the fat of your tits, pinching lightly at the abdomen. causing you to take a sharp intake of breath, and a dizzy huff of his name.

if you ever believed that gojo satoru was malicious in the workplace, a bane on your sanity, you had not been prepared for how he was stretching you out in all the right places.

that inhumane pace of the strongest had him snapping his hips sharply, over and over until he's hitting the spongy patch, deep within your walls.

"clamped around me like, ohh, like a fuckin' vice," gojo's grunting now, each breath coming out short puffs that match the timing of the slap! each whack of his cock delivers, pressing your hips together and coating his hips in sweet slick.

"mmph, feels so good, satoru!" you squeal, pressing a hand over your mouth so you don't wake up the entire top floor of the hotel, tits jostling with each shuffle and movement.

it's all coming down on you too quick, that electric haze shooting down your spine. made all the worse by gojo groaning and slipping his hand between his jackhammering hips, down to where your clit is practically throbbing for his touch.

he's running tight circles, before pressing the flat of his thumb under the hood of your clit, ripping a raw cry from the back of your throat, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as gojo's lips are leaving blooming marks over your neck.

"satoru, i t-think 'm gonna c-cum again," you moan, fluttering your lashes against your skin, rolling your hips up into gojo's quick fingers and brutal cock. but it feels different this time, nothing like your past two orgasms. you feel something draw its claws further into your groin, like you're going to burst and the breath will be stolen away from your lungs.

you hear gojo say something, snarky but tender as he laughs into your collarbone, as he's slapping his fingers down quickly over your clit, making you jolt. but you don't hear his words as blood roars in your eears, gushing all over his cock with a clear, sticky sheen that coats him deliciously.

makes gojo satoru groan out filthy praises over your marked skin, "didn' know you were that nasty? hahh, squirtin' over me on your first go, yeah? it's gettin' too much for me too, s-sweets. think 'm gonna hafta maaa -"

you have no inkling as to what gojo was aiming to groan out, fluttering his own blue eyes shut as his orgasm catches up to him, pumping you insanely full of thick, stringy seed. practically painting your inner walls a translucent white as you huff and whine.

but in the back of your mind, you think he wanted to marry you. a bridge you'll cross when you get to it.

"fillin' you up, good, aren't i?" and he's lost in a daze, and you watch as his muscles ripple in the light of the moon, pectorals gleaming as he stuffs you further, as if plugging his seed to stay in you, making you squirm from the delicious stimulation.

you should have paid a little more attention to your surroundings. less attention to the thick veins of his cock drilling a home in you. or less attention to how his lips curl up into a sweeter smile as he presses soft, happy kisses to your cheek while you lay exhausted, caged by his thick arms.

then, you might have noticed the lights flicker and then shatter for half the hotel's rooms.

the morning sun peeks through the curtains like an overenthusiastic alarm clock, dragging you out of sleep with its gentle warmth. you stretch lazily, limbs still heavy and sticky from the weight of...the previous night's activities.

the sheets feel ridiculous soft, kudos to the insanely over-priced hotel. and for a second, you entertain the thought of just staying here. forever.

that is, until your eyes fall on raijin's amulet over on the wooden table.

and the fact that gojo is nowhere to be found.

you blink, squinting at the empty space beside you. your first instinct is to check besides the bed, and then under it, for fear that the six-foot three man has simply fallen off.

but your gaze falls on a tiny pink sticky-note on the nightstand. one that you suspect was pilfered from the scattered case file on the couch. you peer at looping cursive, scrawled in a blue marker.

don't eat anything yet! gone to get a proper breakfast!

you can't help the soft huff that leaves you, fond in its escape. you feel this sudden urge to don some proper clothes, to go down and join him in the warm sunlight.

but then you pause. perhaps, you ought not to. it would be fun to let him miss you just a bit. the thought of the gojo satoru standing there, waiting in line for entirely average pancakes is amusement enough for you.

but before you can pull the crisp sheets over your head, your eyes catch a glimpse of something else by the bed. a small, satin-blue box that didn't exist yesterday, in the world of cruel choices and...semi-successful missions.

the memory of yesterday pulls a frown from you, but you shake your head, determined to clear your thoughts.

you reach for it, letting your fingers run over the smooth surface, before tugging at the silver ribbon cautiously. half-expecting to find something weird like gojo's usual idea of a joke like a half-naked framed photo of him with a lipstick print.

ah!

but instead, inside the box lies a thin necklace. you've stared longingly enough at shop windows to know that these are real diamonds. not the cheap kind either, a well-cut carat that makes you gasp to yourself, a flush running over your cheeks.

for a moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched unbearably heavy. but then gojo’s ice-gaze dropped to the necklace scattered over your throat, and he tilted his head, "not too bad," a flicker of a scoff curling at his lips. "tch, they’re not even real," you blurted, then immediately regretted it, what was wrong with you today? you reached up, fingers grazing the cool crystals as if to shield them from his bemused scrutiny, "just thought i needed something to fit in."

you pick it up, feeling the cold weight of it in your hand. what is this, romance? a necklace? gojo satoru doesn’t even do romance. at least, not in the way anyone would expect.

he’s the kind of guy who would absolutely get you diamonds just to throw you off balance. mission accomplished.

you glance at the sticky note again, then back at the necklace. this is way too much for your sleep-addled brain. and yet, there’s this funny little thing inside you, a warm spark that you don’t know what to do with.

fuck, when did he even have the time to get this gorgeous gift?

you’re definitely not soft, but gojo does this thing to you — he has a way of turning your whole world upside down, and now…apparently, he’s gone and done it again.

your cheeks warm, but you don't admit to it. not yet. but there's no denying the softer spot that's growing in you, the urge to have gojo satoru in your arms in this very moment so you can run your hands through soft, white hair to watch him purr. to see his cheeks flush from a sweet blush as his blue eyes flutter shut.

your eyes fall on his crumpled uniform jacket from yesterday, his discarded clothes. perhaps, you could just join him. after all, you feel words threatening to spill from your mouth and you want him to hear them.

a surprise of your own? you think you want to see gojo satoru speechless for once.

do not plagiarise or repost! likes and reblogs appreciated. btw, this jenny packham was the dress i envisioned for reader but imagine whatever you like!

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deliwrites · 8 days ago

Text

ℝ𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕘𝕖 // Baby Saja

// DATE // 23rd of June 2025 -> 26th of June 2025 // WORDS // 16.7k+ // SUMMARY // Reader is a member of Huntr/x, Rumi's twin sister to be precise. Y/n doesn't want to hide who she is anymore. Wanting to prove to Rumi that Mira and Zoey will trust them, she shares what she is knowing Rumi will back her up. Only they don't trust her and Rumi sends her to her death or so she thought, now it's time for revenge.

- Everything below this until the gif can be considered as spoilers. Be surprised and skip straight to the story or read the rest in this section at your own risk. MDNI! PS. This whole story is a spoiler for the movie if you have not seen it yet! -

// PAIRING // Baby Saja x femHuntrix!reader, Rumi x Jinu, Zoey x Mystery, Romance x Mira x Abby // WARNING // angst, fluff, (soul)mates, explicit smut, again, minor do not interact with this post, dom!baby/sub!reader, p in v, unprotected sx(wrap it before you tap it please), fingering, oral fem receiving, praise kink, biting, mating, possessive behavior, (I think it is) slight humiliation kink

// Main Story // Bonus Chapters //

“Rumi?” I start as I pull on the costume for the Golden promo with her. Did she release Golden maybe a bit early. Most definitely but I will always support her decisions.

“Yeah?”

“I want to tell them,” my voice is quiet, a little afraid of what her reaction will be.

“Y/n, Celine told us to wait,” she almost hisses, fear clear on her face.

“I know, I know,” pulling on the tight white shorts. “But they know us, they know were not like the other demons. Hell, all the other ones are ugly,” Rumi chuckles at that, shaking her head.

“That’s true, but I still think we shouldn’t tell them.”

“Okay, what if only I tell them about me. You don’t have to get involved. I’ll prove to you that they’ll accept us and then you can tell them too!” I tell her with full confidence. No doubt in my mind.

“Okay, I’ll back you up,” I squeal as I pull her into a tight hug.

“Couch! Couch! Couch! Couch!” I hear Mira and Zoey chant as they shuffle their way to the couch arms filled with snacks. Dropping the snacks on the white fluffy couch. Dropping right next to snacks.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the stuff,” Zoey sighs.

“So relaxing,” Mira murmurs sinking into the couch.

“Hey. Have a good break?” Rumi asks appearing behind the two.

“Huh?” Mira looks at her bewilders. “What? No. We literally just sat down!” chuckling I walk around the couch and take a seat on the coffee table.

“Why are you two in your new costumes?” Zoey asks as both sit up, eyes shifting between the two of us.

“Rumi, you didn’t,” both Mira and Zoey turn to Rumi, knowing if it would be either of us it would be Rumi. “Did you announce the new single?” Rumi's only response is a wide grin.

“The promo starts tomorrow- Tonight?”

“Tonight?” Mira and Zoey say in surprise. “Rumi, no! No!” the two start to whine playfully with a sense of true disappointment lacing their voices.

“No!” I hand Zoey her costume while Rumi hands Mira hers.

“But before we leave,” I begin, as the two of them begrudgingly start pulling on the costumes. Their eyes going to me as they keep getting dressed. Not bothered at all about changing in front of us. “I have something to share,” my voice goes from excited to nervous. My eyes flickering between all three. “It’s hard for me, but I don’t think I can hide it for much longer,” I stare down at my shaking hands. Zoey takes one of my hands, squeezing in reassurance.

“We will always be here for you,” she says, a gentle smile gracing her face.

“Well, I-” shaking off the jacket from my costume. The patterns slowly coming into view, drawing gasps from Mira and Zoey. Who pulls away her hand. Both of them drawing their weapons making me jump back standing up at the other end of the coffee table. My heart beating faster than it already did.

“You’re a demon,” Mira’s voice is angry as she spits the words out like she’s disgusted by the sight of me.

“I thought you would-” my voice is shaky and quiet as I stare in disbelief. “Rumi…” my eyes lock on my sisters, a desperate call for help. Zoey and Mira turn to Rumi with a hint of betrayal in their eyes.

“Did you know?” Zoey asks Rumi threateningly. A tone Zoey has never used against us before.

“No,” Rumi’s voice is cold. Detached. But her eyes burn. Drawing her own weapon, pointing the long end of the blade at me as she jumps over the couch. “I can’t believe you would betray us like this,” it’s like she’s saying it to herself for betraying her sister like this. With no other options, she steps up onto the coffee table - like it’s a stage. Like this moment has been building since the day we were born. Driving the blade through my chest. Tears in both our eyes as I shudder. The pain from the tear in my chest making me scream silently and then I implode, collapsing inward in a burst of magenta smoke - silent and final.

I didn’t die like I expected. Instead I found myself leaning on my knees, crying into my arms in front of Gwi ma. The flame entity laughing at my despair.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n,” he tsk’ed like he was disappointed to see me. “Guess you should have kept it hidden,” he laughs again deep and evil. “Now you’re my demon!” his voice booms across the crowd of demons who start laughing with their king. The events of tonight start playing over and over in my head loud, feeling like it gets louder and louder. I had no control over it. I couldn't stop them, couldn't dampen them. My hands cover my ears but it doesn't change anything.

I don’t really notice until I open my eyes again. The laughter has died down after I had been moved by Gwi ma, is my guess, to just beyond the crowd of demons.

I tried walking away but kept being dragged back. Making me sigh and stay at the edge of where I was apparently allowed to be. I could barely see any of the other demons through the smoke and deemed myself alone enough. If this was all the space I was allowed to have now, I would take it. Sinking to the lava rock ground. I pull my knees up to my chest. Wrapping my arms around them.

The ground wasn't comfortable. Far from it. But sitting was better than to stay standing. The moment I thought everything settled the voices came back louder than ever before, making me bury my face in my arms.

“Did you know?” “No.” “Okay, I’ll back you up” “I can’t believe you would lie to us like this.”

The voices sounded like screaming, ringing in my ears. Tears running down my face again filled with the pain of betrayal. The feeling of her sword driving into my chest solidified the feeling of betrayal. If there was someone I thought I could trust it would be Rumi.

I don't know how long he tortured me for like this. Making it go silent, giving me a false sense of control before returning it in full. But it feels like an eternity.

Little did I know I was being observed by a group of 400 year old demons who looked awfully human compared to the others. Nor did I notice when one of them approached me. First the male just sat beside me, keeping a bit of a distance. Almost like he didn’t want to startle me.

It was like his calm aura surrounded me, softening the voices that were screaming at me. Blinking away my tears in confusion. Looking right, then left. Finding him sat there. Leaning back on his hands, left knee up, his right leg stretched out.

I couldn't stop my brows from furrowing. Shuffling a little further away from the male. Demons are bad. They can’t be trusted. I tell myself, my gaze falling onto my own patterns. Right, I am one. The patterns hadn’t spread this far before I was sent here. Now I looked like a full demon, even if I knew I was only half a demon. My hands turning into fists realizing I would be stuck here forever.

I didn't acknowledge him. Turning away from him. But it felt like he was too far away. Shaking my head I tried to ignore it. Though it didn't take long for me to break the silence we sat in.

“Why are you here?” I dare to ask. Hating myself for going against everything I believed in.

He doesn't say anything making me sigh. Turning back to him my body relaxes, just a bit as the distance becomes smaller. Loosening the stiffness in my legs. Not understanding why I’m suddenly feeling relaxed, I continue. “Here to mock me? 1 huntress down 3 to go.”

“No.”

It’s short. Stopping me from continuing. I look at him, eyes wide. Taking in his pale purple skin, bright golden eyes, blue hair, traditional black Korean attire. He didn’t look at me. Instead staring off into the distance, not that there was much to see. The area mostly covered in smoke.

“I’m here in case you need someone who understands-”

“Understand? You’re a demon, you feel no emotions! How could you possibly understand?”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he stays calm even after my accusation, like he was expecting me to react this way. “We feel double that what humans feel. We feel extremely. It might shock you, but Gwi Ma keeps us pushed to the edge, so far into madness that we seem numb. But we do feel...” his voice is gentle as he speaks, shifting his gaze away from the smoke, to me. His golden eyes drawing me in.

“What do you feel now?” I ask cautiously curious. Shifting to sit on my side, leaning on my hands - closer to him.

“Sadness,” he confesses. I sense no lies in his eyes. “Seeing my m- you like this, it hurts.”

“You’re what?” he closes his eyes, grunting in annoyance at himself for miss speaking. He doesn't answer, instead he disappears. Immediately Gwi ma's power returns in full force. Falling to my side, my hands cradle my face. Eyes shut tight. My screams are silent at the pain the events cause me.

It feels like I'm in pain for days. My throat hoarse from my crying. I open my eyes suddenly. An unexpected calm falling over me again. He's stood over me this time. I can't read his expression.

I'm not sure what to say, or if I should even say something. Last time he disappeared on me. My eyes follow him as he returns to sit in the same spot as he did before.

"I guess it's in our best interest if I just tell you," he sighs, not facing me just yet. I find the strength in my arms to push myself in a sitting position. Subconsciously dragging myself closer to him. “Give me your hand,” I hesitate a little. Not sure if I should trust him even though he had revealed something I never knew about demons. Something I don’t think a demon would easily confess to, either. His gaze meets mine as I shuffle closer. Carefully placing my hand left hand in his right hand.

A slow ripple spills out from our connected palms. Like black stardust unfurling beneath our skin, soft and shivering. Leaving goosebumps in its wake. Light and shadow dancing like twin spirals up our arms. Disappearing into our chests where our hearts sit. Creating a magnetic pull. A sudden blast surged outward like an orb tearing through the smoke around us. My head seamed to clear only one word occupying my mind.

“Baby.”

“That’s me,” a gentle smile played on his lips. “And you, Y/n, are my mate.”

“Mate?” I repeat it, stunned, like saying it out loud might make it make sense. For years I was told demons didn’t have feelings, that they were all bad, that all should be killed. And now I was mated to one?

But I had to be honest. I didn't mind. He made me feel calm. I don't think I've ever felt this calm. Always on edge. Scared to reveal my secret. Regretting that I shared my secret. I was pretty much powered by anxiety.

“Yes, I understand it’s hard to believe-”

“Oh, no, I believe it’s just… unexpected?” he chuckles soft and gentle making a blush decorate my cheeks. I started to make sense the longer I looked at him. Really took him in. He was my complete opposite, perfect to soothe my racing thoughts.

“Cute,” he says squeezing my hand which he still held.

“Also, I thought all demons were supposed to be ugly,” the bluntness of the comment gets him to full on laugh, the sound low, warming up my chest. I crawl closer without thinking, like the space between us suddenly became unbearable. Now that I know we’re mates, distance feels wrong.

“We are sad to have to share this news on the day of our new singles release,” Rumi tells the host. “But Y/n has left Huntrix.”

“Oh no, what happened?” the host asks with concern, genuine curiosity behind her words.

“We don’t know, it was unexpected,” Mira says, there is sadness in her normally stoic voice.

“She decided she didn’t want to do this anymore,” Zoey adds to the lie.

“We couldn’t convince her to stay.”

“She is your sister, I suppose you’re still in contact with her at least?” the host asks making Rumi’s hard hammer in her chest, the face of her sister silently screaming as she killed her.

“Ah, no,” Rumi keeps it short.

“Golden is the last song Y/n will be featured on from now on,” Zoey quickly takes the attention away from Rumi.

“We will be going on hiatus for a little while to get used to the loss of our member.”

"So, do you..." I start, eyes up at the sky. Baby and I laid on the ground, I used his stomach as a pillow. Forced to even, he would not let me rest my head on the lava rock surface.

"Do I what?" he asks while we watch souls dance above us. None of them flying in the direction of Gwi ma, thankfully.

"Do you get to go up there?" my voice soft, afraid of the answer. He pauses, stilling. Turning my head I look at him. He has his head propped up by his arms. I can just see his golden eyes. Watching them shift ... anxiously?

"No," he finally says. "I'm glad for it," he adds softly. Turning on my side, I can tell he doesn't want to share just yet. So I reassure him in the only way I can think of. Sitting up, I place a gentle peck on his dark lips. Smiling at the way his eyes widen just slightly at my action.

That's not the last peck we share. Far from it. I can't stop stealing them. He doesn't give me them nearly as often, but I know that every time he does, it's sincere.

He lingers, holding on to me like I could slip from his fingers any moment. Whenever we meet his friends there's always this possessive arm around my waist. Not that I mind.

I still remember the first time he introduced us. "Y/n," Baby starts, his arm not leaving my waist. Sending pointed looks at the four demons before me. "These are Jinu, Mystery, Abby and Romance," gesturing from a black haired, smirk wearing one, to a grey haired, not looking at me - I think. To a taller pink haired one who wore a smug look, to the last one. Another pink haired one, this time long flowing locks.

This hand had dared to step forward. Taking my hand swiftly pecking my knuckles before he got smacked in the face by Baby. Who pulled me behind him. Growling possessively.

Laughter bursting within the group and I wouldn't lie. I couldn't stop myself from giggling either.

That moment was pretty much the start of my friendship with the group. There was obviously not a lot to do. But when they showed me they could pretty much create things out of thin air. I asked them if they ever thought of creating game pieces.

Which they hadn't, like how.

In the end they had created game pieces for games out of their time, but I wanted to play something newer. Like UNO. When I asked if they knew what it was, Baby sent an image in my head of something. Confusing me to the point I looked at him like he had just sent me a unsolicited dick pic.

"How did you do that?" I ask after recovering from the random image.

"We're mates," is his simple answer. I arch my brow like, 'okay, so now I'm supposed to understand how that works'. He chuckles at my expression, pecking my cheek. "I just think of what I want to show you, and I sent it to you."

"Oh, okay, I wanna try," instantly thinking of the UNO game. Looking at him wide eyed like that will do it. "Do you see it?" he shakes his head. Thinking... louder? "Am I doing it?" my voice stressed, eyes closed.

"Uhm, no, but you do look constipated," I gasp, opening my eyes at his words in offence. Smacking his chest playfully as the others laugh their asses off. With that I gave up on the whole image sending for a while.

- Spice below, skip to next image divider if you do not want to read it -

While we spend most of our time all together, I did steal Baby from them a lot. Wanting to spend time with him one on one. Get to know him more and more.

He wasn't much of a talker, so it was tough at times. It seemed enough time had past as I could go further than before. Allowing for us to have a private space between a few rocks.

Never the comfortable place of course. Pressing my lips against him hungrily. Sat on the ground, his back against a rock, a tight grip on my hips where I sat in his lap. Keeping me from moving them against him.

"Why are you holding back?" I ask breathless when I pull away. I stare at him, eyes shifting from one to the other. Anxiety rolling over me like a realization. "Do you not-"

"Of course not," his voice gentle as he cups my cheeks, staring loving into my soul. "I just don't want to loose control," I nod, not entirely believing him, my gaze falling from his. "Hey, listen to me," he caresses my cheeks so gentle, getting me to look back up. "If you think you need to pleasure me to make sure I love you," my eyes widen at the fact he can read me so well. "You don't," he waits till I nod. "But," he smirks. "If it's pleasure you want, I'll be happy to give it to you," my cheeks darken at his words. Warmth spreading to more places than one.

To the point I can't stop myself from nodding eagerly. Anxiety, completely forgotten.

"Okay, darling," he pecks my lips. "Turn around," I follow his command like a life line. Leaning my back against him, his arms circling my waist. "Knees up, either side of mine."

Again, like an obedient pet, I do as he asks. Shaking with anticipation. His left hand, caresses the bare skin of waist. Owning just my Golden costume in this realm. Other hand smoothly slipping under the waist band of my shorts. Gasping when his fingers find my heat.

"So wet already," his voice is a sin, whispering in my ear. I can feel his smug gaze on the side of my head. I enjoy it. Just two of his finger play with the slick that gather on my outer lips.

"Please," I'm not even sure I said anything with how soft I spoke. But he heard, loud and clear. Chuckling evilly.

"What do you want, darling?" he teases, sliding his finger tip over my slit, but not parting them. I bite my bottom lip, cheeks red with embarrassment. I felt so filthy having to say it out loud, but I knew I had to. If I didn't he would just tease me for all of eternity. He lays a gentle peck on my neck as if to encourage me, putting light pressure where my lips cover my clit with his fingers.

A moan like gasp and I finally utter. "Touch me."

"Hmm, not precise enough," just those words have me whining in desperation. "But, I'll let you have it this time."

Before I can exhale in relief he parts my lips. Slipping a single finger straight in. Thumb landing on my clit, a shaky moan escaping me instead. Instinctively my legs start to close around his hand.

"Hold them open for me," with shaky hands I hold my thighs open. Breathing heavily at the slow pace his fingers are using. A second had joined inside me, but it wasn't enough.

"F-faster," I beg, head rolling onto his shoulder. A dark chuckle and a third finger gets added. Along with a faster pace. I'm gasping like I can't get enough of this feeling. I'm surprised that his sharp claw like nails don't seem to scratch me, but I'm not complaining.

Moaning at the way his fingers curl inside me, stretch me open. Thumb rubbing smooth circles on my clit. My ears pick up his own grunting. Are my feelings causing him to enjoy it just as much as I am?

The hand that held a grip on my waist, moves up. Slipping under my top. Fingers finding my pebbled buds, squeezing, first testing the waters. The action causing me to subconsciously squeeze around the finger inside me.

"So sensitive, aren't you?" I'm not even sure what exactly I'm nodding to, but I do it anyways. Reaching the edge quicker with every squeeze, every thrust of his fingers. "Go on darling," he whispers in my ear, pointy tongue flicking against my jaw teasingly. "Cum for me."

I do, shuddering franticly as my orgasm rolls over me. Taking over my entire body as he keeps the movements up until my hips move in shocks against the touch. Suddenly overstimulated, breathing heavily.

"Good girl."

Curiosity strikes Abby one random day, while we're playing games again.

"By the way, how did you get here?" it's so out of the blue. Everyone's eyes shooting at him. Baby and Jinu glaring at him like a warning. "What? I'm curious."

Baby tells me I should not feel forced to tell them, his glare not leaving Abby. I place my hand on his thigh, reassuring him that its okay.

After explaining it is when the revenge plan start brewing to life. I don't think I've ever liked feeling this evil until now.

There once was a mighty demon king Stop me if you’ve heard this one before He was in total control He feasted on souls The world trembled when he roared But then some Hunters sang some songs Now all he does is starve Can’t get at the souls, and his flame grows cold Just a whisper in the dark And will he let the fire go out? Is this the end of him now? Dying king with a crumbling crown? Will he let the fire go out?

“I let you keep that voice, Jinu,” Gwi ma says as Jinu approached him with his song. “And you dare to mock me with it?” I stayed near Baby as we slowly followed Jinu closer to Gwi ma.

“I’m not here to mock you. I’m here to help you,” Jinu tells Gwi ma. “It’s time for a new strategy,” the six of us fly up the long staircase. Them in their traditional attire, me still in my Golden promo costume. Safe for the jacket. “We fight the Hunters where they least expect it. Go after the very thing that powers the Honmoon. The fans.”

“A demon boy band?” Gwi ma questions. Bursting out laughing, the crowd following awkwardly. “What makes you think that could work?” Transforming just enough to make them look more human.

“I can help,” I speak up, appearing from behind Baby. “I am from that world, I know how it works. I can be their manager. I won’t be seen. I can make sure they become big.”

“You?” Gwi ma chuckles evilly. “What makes you think I’ll trust you.”

“They betrayed me,” I tell him. “I might not be doing it for you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t pull through if it gives them what they deserve for stabbing me, quite literally.”

“Hmm, alright," he says. "But, that can't just be it, what is it the rest of you expect out of this?" he hums, impatiently waiting for an answer.

"Our memories from before this life, erased," Jinu speaks for them.

“Okay! I have planned for your first performance to be just around the corner from here,” I tell the five as we walk down the alley. Romance, Abby and Mystery walk in front, Jinu following behind them. While I walk with Baby, his arm wrapped possessively around my waist, not that I minded. I wore one of Baby’s sweaters, and a cap to hopefully hide my appearance enough. “You guys know the song, I’ll make sure to make it go viral. Flyers have been handed out and people have already started gathering,” I had my phone out while Baby guides me safely. Making my twirl suddenly before holding me in front of him.

“uh… watch yourself,” I hear Jinu speak to someone. Baby’s hold on me leaving me unable to check to who. But as we walk away I recognize who.

“Watch my… Watch yourself!” Rumi. Looking up at Baby he turns me to face him and places a gentle peck on my lips. As if saying ‘I got you’. Returning at his side we continue walking to our destination. “Oh, Jinu! After the performance don’t forget to announce that you’ll be at everyone’s favorite variety show.”

“Yes, I’ll remember,” I peck Baby on the cheek and let them do their thing. Staying close and keeping my eye out for Rumi, Mira or Zoey. I film their performance. Posting it on social media, creating edits, shorts, posting a prerecorded video of a dance practice I had them do. Watching as the numbers went up and up. The Saja Boys getting more popular by the minute.

Looking at the crowd I could see how much they were enjoying the Saja Boys. The moment they started it had drawn even more people to come check them out.

I couldn’t stop myself from clapping with the crowd when they were done with their performance. Giving Jinu a pointed look as I pulled up the slide for on the screen behind them that showed the variety show they would be at tonight. Jinu first wiped his shoulder clean of nonexistent dust while staring at Rumi who stood scarily close to me.

I thought I had paid enough attention. I catch Baby’s eyes who with just a flick of his eyes moved me away where our eyes connect again. A sigh of relief leaving my body while he sends a wink which has the crowd around me going wild some more. That’s my man, I think I hear a chuckle in my head as I return my gaze to his where he smirks his lips forming one word. Mine.

“That’s it for now. See you tonight on everyone’s favorite variety show,” selecting the slide on my phone it appears behind them as Jinu speaks. “Saja Boys love you!” posing for just a second longer before disappearing with the magenta smoke. A second later, a hand slips into mine before I’m ingulfed in that same magenta smoke. The smoke dissipating around us when we appear in the apartment I got the band.

“You guys did so good!” I clap with excitement, pulling my phone out as I sit down with Baby like a magnetic pull to always be close to him. Baby wraps an arm around my shoulder pulling me closer to him.

“Of course,” Abby smirks. “We’re charming,” as if to prove his point he flexes his arms making me roll my eyes.

“Barely,” I tease, sticking my tongue out at him. “The fans like you because 1, the song is catchy, you’re welcome by the way. 2, you’re hot, we’ll figure out if you’re charming on that variety show. And 3, you guys dance really well,” Abby sticks his tongue out right back at me. Quick learner, I chuckle. “Anyways, we have a bit of time before the variety show-” I don’t even get to finish before four of them literally poof out of existence. “Wha-”

“Don’t worry, they’ll be back,” Baby speaks up besides me. Shifting my gaze to him, his now nearly unnatural blue eyes half lidded. Taking my phone from me, I try to protest, but he just tsks, like I’m a child testing limits. “No phone for you,” he says, voice stern making me shiver. “You have to be able to get out of sight from the Huntrix. Without me.”

“But you can do it,” I pout and he sighs, getting up from the couch, pulling me with him. Then he smirks, just a little. That smug, knowing tilt of his mouth that makes me want to punch him and kiss him at the same time.

“You get a kiss for every step further you are able to make,” he knows that will make me comply. He’s not shy about kissing me, but it’s not nearly as often as I wish it was. So if this is how I can get it, I’ll take it.

“Okay, okay,” I nod vigorously. “How do we start,” I had told him that I obviously knew how to fight, but I didn’t know how to teleport like they can. Not like I could learn that from Celine. All she ever did was told us to hide our patterns. No one could know what we were.

“It’s a lot about visualizing where you want to go,” his voice calm as he starts to explain. Giving me examples by teleporting around the room as he does. “Now you try, don’t start off difficult. From where you stand, try to go in front of the coffee table.”

“And if I do it,” a little smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “I get a kiss, right?”

“Yes,” he chuckles deeply. “If you can do it, you get a kiss,” he nods. “More if you behave and make it to me,” excitement fills up my body in more ways than one, the smirk on his lips not helping in stopping the heat from forming between my legs. Nodding I focus on the rug under the coffee table. Visualizing the edge where I want to go. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. Hoping that I did it when I open my eyes again.

Nothing.

I was still stood in the same place. “Ugh,” I shake my head. “Okay, one more,” Closing my eyes again. I visualize once more. Maybe it needs to be more detailed. Edge of the rug. The rug is red, the border fluffy, the rectangle table white marble. That is where I want to go. Opening my eyes once more. Nothing. “I can’t do it, if I can’t even get 30cm further how am I meant to get to yo-u,” in the blink of an eye I’m in front of him. Eyes wide in confusion and surprise. A smirk plays on his lips as he leans down and pecks my lips.

Recovering from my initial shock, I shake my head before crossing my arms.

“Nah ah, you said I would get more if I could make it to you.”

“That’s true,” his voice deeper than before. His strong hands reach my hips. Placing a nearly bruising grip on them, my knees weakening. Reaching for him, I wrap my arms around him and pull him closer. Our lips connect, gentler than I expected. But I turn the kiss hungry within seconds. Tracing my tongue over his lips asking for entrance, which he gives only to quickly over power it. Showing me who’s boss, not that anyone would ever question that. He pulls away making me whine. I don’t let go and neither does he. “I will let you have this, cause you have no idea how much I need you, but we will continue practicing after this,” the whine turns into a moan at his confession. He trails kissing down my jaw to my neck, making me bend over backwards.

- Spice below, skip to next image divider if you do not want to read it -

His hands slide up, under his sweater over my bare stomach. Lifting the sweater as he goes, leaving goosebumps in his wake. Pulling back long enough to throw the sweater away before lifting me up. A squeak leaving my lips, returning my hold around his neck tighter as he moves us to the bedroom. I kiss and bite his neck as well as I can with his outfit still on. Trying to get his sweater off him is a struggle. I only manage it because he tosses me onto the bed and I yank it off mid fall.

He at least helps me by taking off his blouse himself, crawling over me right after. Our lips connecting in a heated kiss. My hands roam his toned chest, nails scraping his skin with need. His right hand cupping my face while the other held him up right. His sharp teeth tugging at my bottom lip, pulling away with a grin.

“So needy,” his voice deep, eyes flashing golden. A needy whimper leaves my lips. Watching him back up, just enough to unzip my shorts. Tapping my ass to make me lift off the bed, I quickly do as he asks. Sliding it sensually slow down my thighs, his own nails trailing after the fabric. Every inch they drag lower sends another jolt up my spine.

I want him so desperately at this point I want to drag him back up to me. I don’t even care that he’s still half dressed. I just need him, right now!

Shorts finally gone, abandoned on the floor. He holds my ankles, pecking both. With a strong grip his hands slide back up, followed by more pecks. Turning into bites, along with creating hickeys on my thighs. Marking me his. I loved it.

The moment his head is within my reach I try to pull him back up, but he denies me. An impatient whine leaving my lips though it quickly turns into a gasp when he surprises me by blowing air on my damp panties. Swiftly sliding the fabric to the side, the cold air of the room momentarily startling me. Though my lips are quickly engulfed with his. Legs almost instantly turning to jelly.

Pushing one thigh up, he spreads my legs, giving him more room to explore. My breathing turning into desperate gasps. Sucking on my clit like it’s a life line, plunging his tongue so far inside me it seems impossible. Leaning up on my weak trembling arms, I look at his head between my legs. His eyes open shortly too look me in the eyes. His eyes golden, his patterns showing. He’s half shifted. It all made sense now. He had shown me before that his tongue was longer when in demon form, teasing me with it. This was just half of what it could be and this was already sending me to heaven.

I couldn’t hold myself up anymore, falling back down with a heavenly moan. I could feel that he was enjoying this just as much as I was, being this close allowing me to feel his emotions just like he did mine. My hands find his hair, gripping tight on the strands. Drawing a groan from him, the vibrations of his voice only getting me closer to my release.

“So close,” my voice soft, laced with desperation. But I shouldn’t have said anything. The second the words leave my lips, his leave my heat. A wet smirk curls on his lips, glistening and smug.

“Didn’t think I was gonna let you cum that easy, now did you?” he arches a brow, the wicked look in his eyes making my body ache even more. He licks his lips, groaning at the taste of me. In an instantly his completely naked before me, his patterns beautifully on display. My denied orgasm forgotten, I find the strength to get up. On my knees in front of him, my lips just able to reach his strong collar bones.

I start there, biting hard. I can tell he enjoys it, his eyes stay on me watching me as I claim his body just like he did mine. Smirking my way down, leaving hickeys and indents of my teeth. Marks that say mine in every shade of red. Following one line of his patterns, all the way down the length of his chest. Though he doesn’t allow me to reach my destination.

With a rough push, I’m on my back once more. Somehow, while falling back he was able to remove both my bra and my panties. Demon magic, I'm sure. My legs pulled up into the air, a single hand holding them together against his shoulder.

“Think you’re ready for me?” It’s like his voice got even deeper, like he was growling while talking. That same smug smirk curves his lips as he teases me, pressing the tip between my thighs. My eyes widen the further he pushes, realizing just how big he actually was.

While I’m terrified, I don't control my head as it nods repeatedly with need.

Leaning down he folds me in half, the stretch in my muscles an ache I crave. My legs pushed up, pressed tight on either side of my head. “Use your words, darling,” he whispers, face to face now. His breath brushes my lips, voice thick with command and something darker. The tone betraying just how close he is to loosing it all.

“Please, please, please,” the words are breathless. The pressure on my chest makes it hard to breathe, but not enough to stop the begging. “Fuck me,” it’s rough, more like a demand. Desperate to get him inside me. Now!

He lets out a low, wicked chuckle. “Good girl,” instantly thrusting all the way in. The stretch punches a high-pitched gasp out of me, more squeak than moan, and I clamp down around him without meaning to. My body’s trying to slow him down, fighting the pace I just begged for. All air leaves my lungs when he bottoms out. It feels so good I could cry.

“Sooo… gooooood…” the words slur right out of me, brain to far gone to care what I say anymore. A hitched gasp slips past my parted lips as I feel him pull back. Not all the way, but enough to start making me feel empty. His lips join mine in a surprisingly gentle kiss. His kiss is slow, loving, completely at odds with the way he’s wrecking me. Caressing me with love as he slowly starts to thrust back in. Keeping the pace slow but deep while I gasp into kiss. Barely able to kiss him back.

To the point I just give up, wrapping my arms around his neck. Pulling him impossibly closer. The ache in my legs starting to make them tremble, but I don’t care. I need him, crave him. The angle of our position getting me closer to edge with every thrust. My entire body shivering from the intensity.

“You’re doing so good,” his voice cuts through the haze, sudden enough to startle me. Though I relax almost instantly. “Just a little longer,” his right hand caressing my trembling leg, seemingly soothing the ache. Reaching between us in the impossibly small space between us. Pinching my clit between two fingers making me spasm and squeeze around his thick length. “Cum for me,” it’s like a command that breaks the dam. Squeezing his shoulders once before my arms go lacks at the feeling of ecstasy.

Both his arms secure around me as he thrusts a few more times. He moves my head to the side, just enough to give him space. With a low groan, which is quickly muffled by my skin, he cums inside me. A gentle peck where my neck meets my shoulder. Then a scream leaves my lungs when his teeth tear my skin.

The same black stardust seems to ripple over us, starting from where he just bit me. Suddenly I’m overwhelmed. I freeze up. A gentle lick over the wound, then a peck before his eyes come into view.

“Now,” he whispers. “You’re completely mine,” and I feel it. I feel him, not just physically. Our souls completely connected.

Slowly the shock fades, as does the pain. He starts to pull away, but I don’t want him to. Letting him leave just enough space for me to lower my legs before I pull him right back.

Connecting our lips, exploding with emotions. So much raw emotion of both him and me.

We had just finished showering, but he had been done getting dressed quicker. Pecking my lips as he left the room. A lingering feeling of adoration from him warming my chest.

“Wow, you look thoroughly fucked,” Mystery points out the obvious when I enter the living room again after what had just transpired in the bedroom. I hadn’t tried to hide the marks Baby had left on me, but they were relatively hidden. But I guess not as hidden as they had seemed when I looked in the mirror.

An instant flare of anger washes over me. But it’s not mine.

“Watch it,” Baby hisses at his friend. I just stick my tongue out at Mystery and plop myself down on Baby’s lap, who instantly wraps a possessive arm around my waist. I peck his cheek before turning my attention to the rest of the boys.

“Okay, but, we should actually get going,” I say while I look at the time on my phone, now that I have it again. “We don’t wanna be la-”

Before I can finish, magenta smoke slowly reveals we arrived at the studio.

“Ah! Saja Boys!” we get greeted, the second we get spotted. In panic I touch my head, glad to find the cap there. My eyes meet Baby’s, he’s already staring, handing me tinted glasses. Which I quickly put on.

They get called on stage not long after our arrival. The studio filled to the brim with press and new fans. I stay on the side, out of sight of the crowd. Instead focusing on my phone where I check their social media and their growing popularity.

Unbeknownst to me, three pairs of familiar eyes had spotted me. Unsure and stunned all the same. I should not be there and yet I was.

“It’s a dead heat between my handsome co-host and Baby Saja,” my attention drawn to the stage, at the mention of Baby. Surprised he’s so casually drinking hot sauce like it’s water. “Can our host catch up?”

“So spicy! So spicy!” the co-host utters, giving up.

“He can’t! Baby Saja is the winner!” the crowd cheers.

“Goo goo, ga ga,” Baby mocks, unable to stop me from giggling at the idiocy of it. Shaking my head.

“Hard to say goodbye when we’re having fun.”

“So hard. So hard,” to my shock I watch Jinu take the mic from the host. I’m about to scold him from the sideline when he speaks.

“Then why say goodbye when we have extra special guests coming up?”

“What is he doing?” I mutter. Little did I know that Rumi muttered those exact same words.

“Please welcome Huntrix!” stunned I follow the spotlights as it highlights the - now - trio. Shit.

“We just wanted to stop by and congratulate our hoobaes on their debut and-,” Rumi waves awkwardly, obviously caught off guard.

“And of course, Play Games with Us! Bring out the slides!” Jinu cuts her off. The other four grabbing the slide from my side of the stage.

“This is not a good idea,” I hiss at them. Baby just winks as a feeling of reassurance waves over me.

“Slide! Slide! Slide!” the crowd chants, I watch anxiously.

“Oh no. We couldn’t possibly,” Rumi tries to back out, to no avail of the crowd. Their chants changing to ‘In the balls!’. Which seems, you know, just a little in appropriate, but oh well… “Sure,” voice a little higher now. “For the fans.”

Though its immediately met with more regret. Their leather pants stopping them for a smooth slide. An ear-piercing sound echoing through the studio. Just like Baby I cover my ears, dampening the double effect of what this sound does to us.

Finally they land. “And Huntrix is in the balls!” I notice their eyes flash gold, smirks plastered on their faces before they mask it.

“Well, this was fun,” Rumi says awkwardly as the three of them exit the ball pit. Standing in line across from the boys.

With a hand on his chest. “It was truly an honor to share the stage with you,” Jinu says, the five of them bowing respectfully to the trio. I cover my mouth with my hand to muffle my chuckle at their faces.

“Oh no. The honor is ours,” they bow. They’ll do anything to keep the fans on their side it seems.

“No, it was ours.”

“It’s ours.”

“Ours.”

They all bow deeper and deeper. The boys quite literally folded in half in the end. Baby smirking through his legs at me, making me shake my head at them for the nth time.

Before the curtain is even fully closed, Baby grabs my by the waist, throwing me over his shoulder as they run out. Abby giving Romance a piggy back, just to rub it in the girls faces. Flicking my gaze to them, I see their anger growing.

“Where are we going?” I ask, not really able to do much, stuck in the tight grasp of Baby. Trying to peak around his head I see the bath house sign. “Why are we going to a bath house?”

I get an answer quick enough when I hear their collective voices. “Mens?”

“Wow. Did you really follow us in here?” Jinu says with fake surprise.

“I knew they would. That one’s always looking at me,” Abby says matter-of-factly.

“No we’re not,” Mira and Zoey say, obviously staring at Abby. Rumi ignores the comments completely. Her eyes finding mine where I’m stood next to Baby. A possessive and protective hand on my waist. He glares at them like they had personally hurt him.

I guess unintentionally they had, but without what they did. We wouldn’t have met.

“Y/n?” soft, filled with disbelief. Rumi’s words seem to shake Mira and Zoey out of their staring trance as they too turn to me.

“Told you,” Mira starts. “She’s just as bad as the rest of them,” Baby makes a threatening move, growling slightly. It’s enough to make them take a step back.

“I wasn’t,” I state calmly. Placing a hand on Baby’s shoulder to calm him and to tell him to trust me this time. “Not until you betrayed me that is,” I continue, sending a glare their way. “Especially you, Rumi. What a sister you are,” I shake my head with disappointment.

“So, now you’ve sent a demon boy band after us?” Zoey asks, surprised and offended at the same time. “To what? Steal our fans?”

“Yes,” the six of us state clearly, a smirk pulling at my lips. “When I came back to this plane, it was fun to see how many you had already lost. And all that because I “left”,” their eyes widen at my words. “Now we’re here for the rest of them.”

“You think we’re just going to let you steal our fans?” Rumi’s voice laced with anger. “You’re gonna have to fight us for them.”

“Yeah. Keep your hands off our Honmoon,” Zoey adds.

Jinu chuckles. “We’re not here to fight,” tears in the Honmoon appear in the baths. “They are,” demons rise from the tears.

“Water demons.”

“Oh great. My favorite.”

“Get rid of the Hunters,” Jinu says to the water demon closest to him. I can’t stop the spike of fear puncturing my heart as my eyes shift from him to the people I once called family. “Then you can eat all the souls you want,” Baby squeezes my waist, but it doesn’t sooth the pain in my chest.

With that said, the water demons start fighting. Romance, Mystery and Abby swiftly making their way to another exit. Baby starts pulling me, but I hesitate. While he’s obviously upset at what they had done to me. He understands what I’m going through at this very moment.

“Have fun,” Jinu smirks evilly, nearly slipping on a small pool of water on the tiles. Turning around he starting running towards the exit. I finally find my willpower back and start moving. Holding onto Baby’s hand tight. Letting him drag me through the door. Running through the sauna as Rumi follows us quickly. She manages to cut Jinu off from the group.

“He can handle himself,” Baby reassures me and finally we go up in smoke and appear in our apartment. Out of breath, I let myself fall on the couch. Soon joined by him. He picks me up bridal style. Sits down himself before placing me in his lap. Leaning me so my head is resting on his shoulder.

“I can’t- I-”

“Shh, it’s okay,” his voice is soft. Warmth blooms in my chest and again I’m reassured. He’s not mad at me. He knows I was meant to be one of the good guys. “You don’t have to talk.”

We stay like that, unbothered by the other three. Until Jinu returns, face laced with realization and confusion but before he can say anything. All six of us get pulled back into the demon plane by Gwi ma.

A single soul flies overhead, straight into Gwi ma’s flame.

“My Little Soda Pop,” Gwi ma… sings? “It’s catchy. Surprisingly, your plan is working,” he says to us as we get up off the ground. Standing before him.

“I know, and that soul is just a starter,” Jinu says, his expression changing to please Gwi ma. “So let me get back to work, and you’ll be feasting in no time.”

“Two of the Hunters bear my mark, one of which I now have control over,” if Gwi ma had eyes they would be on me now with how intense the air around me got. “The other I do not.”

“This is good,” Jinu says, taking the attention off me. “This means she has shame. I’ll find out what it is and we can use it to destroy her and the Hunters for good.”

“I’ve taught you well, Jinu,” with that Gwi ma lets us return to our apartment on the human plane.

“Okay, issue,” Jinu says, sitting on one of the arm chairs in the room. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees. Covering his face with his left hand.

“What is it?” Romance asks, confused. Finding himself a seat on the couch. Abby returning from the kitchen with a bottle of water. Sitting in the other arm chair. Mystery finding his spot between Romance and Baby. I stood by the large open windows which had a view of the city sky line. From here I could see the Huntrix tower, the logo lit up in the dark of the night, in the far distance. Leaning against the glass as I subconsciously rubbed the patterns on my arms.

“Is it because of the look on your face when you first came back?” Baby asks, though I know his eyes don’t leave my frame. Watching over me protectively but letting me keep the space I need right now.

“Yes,” Jinu sighs, taking his hand away from his face. “Rumi appears to be my mate,” my eyes focus on his reflection in the window. Silence engulfs the room, almost like time stands still. I don’t think anyone knows what to say with this new information. “But that doesn’t change anything,” he chuckles awkwardly.

It’s very divided. Baby and I sure as hell can’t say shit about it. Me, technically, being a huntress and us being mates. Having just completed said mating bond.

“We’re going to stick to the plan,” Jinu ends up deciding. “We have to,” the words are whispered. My brows furrow in confusion. He can’t just be talking about the revenge. Baby fills my head with images of what Gwi ma could do to us if we fail.

It’s early morning, I think I got maybe an hour of sleep before I woke up from my running thoughts. Baby was a deep sleeper, if he hadn’t been, I was sure he would have jumped awake at the same time I did. Sneaking out of his hold. I grab my phone from its charger.

3:36 am

Sighing I get up. Pulling Baby’s sweater over my head. The hem falling just mid my thighs. My sweater now, really. Exiting the room I head for the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water. Swiftly taking a sip.

“Ah,” I sigh, walking to the living room, I just sat down on the couch when Jinu suddenly appears in front of me. Making me jump, Jinu reacting the same at seeing me awake.

“What are you doing awake?” he whisper hisses at me.

“I could ask you the same thing,” I hiss right back. He sighs and takes the same seat as before. I relax back in my seat, pulling my legs on the couch beside me.

“Fine,” he sighs. Tiger comes up from the floor. First letting himself be pet by Jinu before circling the coffee table. Jumping on the couch next to me, resting his head on my thigh. Placing my hand on his big head, I start petting him. Purrs slowly rumbling from his chest. “I went to meet Rumi,” anxiety spikes my chest, my eyes meeting his instantly. “I know, I know,” he puts his hands up. “I just, I had to tell her.”

While my heart is still running like a marathon, I sigh. “I get it. Once you realize it’s hard to keep it from them. Baby showed me what it felt like for him when he found out,” I explain in understanding. Jinu sighs in relief at my words.

“Thank you,” it wasn’t often Jinu got sincere, so I knew this was real. Just by the tone in his voice. “She did not react well,” he adds. “I shouldn’t be surprised of course, but I had hope with the way you reacted to Baby.”

“You have to understand that the situations are different. I had just been banished by my own family. She’s still in hiding,” I try to reason with him. “If Mira and Zoey knew, she would be with Gwi ma just like me.”

“What exactly happened that day?” the question is cautious. Testing the waters carefully. "I know you told us in part, but..."

“I wanted to tell Mira and Zoey about my patterns,” I state, my voice void of emotion. “I didn’t want to hide anymore. Rumi didn’t want to. Which I understood, but she said she would back me up,” I glance at him before focusing my attention on Tiger as I continue. “They reacted by drawing their weapons on me,” I pause for a moment. Throat swelling up with emotion. Unable to stop the betrayal from taking over me. “Rumi was the one to send me to Gwi ma,” I croak out, my hand trembling as I continue to pet Tiger as a distraction. Taking a deep shuddering breath. Baby appeared behind me suddenly. His calm aura settling over me. Looking back, up at him, his gaze is focused on Jinu. Glaring at him.

“What are you doing?” he asks accusingly. His hands settle on my shoulders. Comforting me.

“It’s okay. I’m okay now,” I smile gently at him, squeezing one of his hands. “It’s not his fault really,” he doesn’t seem to fully believe me. Tiger had looked up, almost offended that I had stop petting him. Though this did give Baby the opportunity to sit down himself and hold me close.

“What happened then?”

“I may have asked what happened that day,” Jinu explains.

“And this became a topic, because?”

“He apparently met with Rumi,” I tell him. “Telling her about them being mates, and it did not go as he hoped,” Baby nods, waiting for more information.

“I also may have offered to let Rumi talk to Y/n,” Jinu confesses, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“WHAT!?” Baby and I say at the same time. Baby out of worry, me out of anxiety.

“Yeah, well,” Jinu sighs, struggling to find the right words. “I thought, since you’re sisters. And you being mated to Baby. You could maybe, I don’t know. Convince her it’s okay..?”

“You want my mate,” Baby’s voice is stern, threatening even. “ who got sent to Gwi ma by yours. To talk to Rumi?”

“I know, I know.”

“No, I don’t think you understand,” Baby’s eyes turn golden. “Her anxiety just woke me up, I am de deepest sleeper you know this. I will not allow Rumi to meet with Y/n.”

The conversation ends there. The next few weeks a filled with award shows where either the Saja boys winning or Huntrix. All the while I see the secret longing looks Jinu sends Rumi, and Rumi tries to hide the new pull that the mating bond created.

It’s conflicting with everything.

I want Jinu to be happy, and I hate that I want Rumi to be happy too. Becoming Baby’s mate has made me so happy. While I still hear Gwi ma’s voice it’s not nearly as loud as it was before we completed the mating. It doesn’t rule over me. I wish that for Jinu. I know his past haunts him, more than he dares to show.

And while it obviously hurts to be betrayed by my sister, I still cared for her. Can I still go through with this?

“Let’s bring ‘em in,” Bobby’s voice announces as the doors to the signing open. Hiding in the crowd, I watch as the guys waddle in. “Hey, single file, no pushing.”

“And who should I make this out to?” Rumi asks, grabbing the stack of her posters, closer to herself.

“ 'To our biggest fans' ,” Jinu says, all of them casually revealing themselves. No longer hidden by the sleeping bags.

“It’s the Saja boys!” while everyone is focused on the boys, the frustration of the girls doesn’t go unnoticed by me.

“It is an honor!” Bobby regards them politely. “Table, now!”

“Joint signing!” while the room splits into two sides. I teleport behind the Huntrix banner, having practiced a lot since that first try.

“We lose half the fans?” I can just hear Rumi’s murmured words. “The Saja Boys will sit with us!”

“What? Rumi?” Mira and Zoey react quietly. “What are you doing?”

“Huh? Same table?” the crowd joins together again as the table gets moved next to theirs.

“We need every fan,” Rumi tells the other two.

“Hm. We keep meeting like this,” Romance says, sitting down next to Mira. Draping an arm over her chair. Leaning his head on his other hand. Staring at Mira while she glares back at him. Abby taking a seat on Mira's left, smirk tugging at his lips.

“I am not sitting with no Saja boy-” Zoey cuts herself off when Mystery sits down next to her, giggling like a high school girl with a crush. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t think you liked sharing,” Jinu whispers to Rumi when he sits down beside her.

“I love sharing.”

“Oh, so you shared your secret with your friends?”

“If only I could smash your demon face in right now,” Mira hisses quietly. Her eyes shifting from Romance to Abby as she signs her poster. “Thanks for coming!” she puts up a sweet face as she hands over the signed poster.

“Should I tell them?” Jinu asks.

“No, I can’t tell them,” Rumi reminds him.

“Are you whispering?” a fan suddenly cut their conversation. The two of them stuttering as they frantically sign the Rumi poster and hand it to the fan. “Your secret’s safe with me,” she says pointing at her shirt which has a drawing of the two of them along with their ship name; Rujinu. They chuckle awkwardly. “Oh, so cute!”

“Thanks for coming!” Zoey speaks with a sweet smile on her lips, while Mystery sits next to her. Arms crossed, pretty much staring down the Huntrix fan in front of them like he had seen them kick a puppy. Softly growling. “No! Bad Saja Boy!” Zoey scolds him which surprisingly stops his growling.

“I’ll sign first,” Mira fights with Abby and Romance over who will sign the cast of a fan. Dragging his foot from left to right on the table like he isn’t struggling to keep his stability on his crutches.

"If Y/n were still with Huntrix," I catch the whisper of a fan. An image of said fan being sent to me by Baby. The fan standing directly in front of him. "I would ship you," he doesn't reply. Simply smirks and sends the fan a wink making them squeal.

“I’m not gonna talk to someone who’s helping Gwi ma,” Rumi whispers, trying to focus on the signing.

“What if that’s not the plan anymore.”

“Like I would believe you, you have my sister helping you.”

“And who’s fault is that,” he whispers in her ear making her kick his foot under the table.

“I had no choice!” She whisper yells at him. “They didn’t accept her. If I revealed what I am we would never stand a chance at defeating Gwi ma. I’m supposed to hate all demons, like I hate Gwi ma.”

“If hate could defeat Gwi ma, we would have done it a long time ago,” Jinu tells her calmly, truthfully. “Trust me.”

“Excuse me, mr. Jinu,” the voice of a little girl cuts their moment. “I made this for you,” both turn to the girl. Jinu surprised, not expecting this in the slightest.

“Uh, for me?” she holds out the drawing to him. He takes the paper like its a porcelain plate. Fragile, breakable. The two stare at the drawing for a little while.

“Maybe listen to those voices instead of the ones in your head,” Rumi says referring to the time they met up, she’s trying to be rude about it, but it sounds more sincere than I think she meant to.

It had been a couple of days since Tiger had been at the apartment. He finally appeared again when it was just me, Baby and Jinu in the living room. The other three had been disappearing into their rooms more often than not.

Tiger sat in front of Jinu, waiting for his attention. I was stretched out over the couch, using Baby’s thighs as a pillow while he read above me. Fingers running through my hair soothingly.

“Oh, my-” Jinu’s sudden excitement has my eyes shoot open in surprise. Baby sighed but closed the book nonetheless. How he did it, I don’t know, but he would just remember the page number he left on. Not caring about a bookmark. Who does that?

“What is it?” I ask, sleepily.

“It’s from Rumi, she’s agreed to meet you,” the anxiety spike returns, just that has Baby reach for my hand. Squeezing it gently.

“I thought, I had been very clear, last time we spoke about this,” Baby glares at him. Sitting up slowly, I take the card from Jinu.

Fine, I’ll take that talk with Y/n. But not for you! She’ll know where to meet me. - Rumi

Stubborn as ever, I shake my head. “You think she’s feeling the pull?” I ask Baby. He sighs, not liking the way my anxiety melted away for warmth of the potential happiness that could come out of this.

“Yes, she probably is,” he answers me, voice gentle, unlike how he spoke to Jinu. “I’m surprised she held out this long. “

“Is that were Tiger was?” I ask Jinu, who nods.

“I’ll do it,” I announce after a moment of me just staring at her neat hand writing.

“I’m coming with you,” Baby immediately says, but I shake me head.

“No, she won’t trust you,” it’s true and he knows it. “I can protect myself. I can get away from her, thanks to you,” I peck his cheek. Lingering to reassure him that I’ll be okay.

“Alright.”

I arrive first. Kneeling in front of our moms grave.

“Hi mom,” my voice soft. “I know it’s been a while since my last visit. I’m sorry,” I apologize. A crunch of a branch tells me Rumi has arrived. Placing a kiss on the tips of my fingers, I press them against her headstone before standing up. Turning to Rumi.

“I didn’t think you would actually show,” she says, a sullen expression on her face. Hands stuffed in her sweaters pockets.

“When Jinu first told me of his offer to you, I wouldn’t have come, no,” I tell her honestly. Moving at a wide radius away from our moms grave. Giving Rumi the opportunity to talk to mom like I just had.

She does just that, I give her space to do so. This is the first time we talk to her separately. We always went to her grave together every now and again.

“Is this… mates thing… a lie?” she hesitates, when she’s done talking to mom. Getting up, keeping the same radius I had. Ten paces apart we take our seat on separate grass patches.

“It is not,” I shake my head, pulling the zipper down of my turtle neck top. Show her my mating mark that has now healed completely. Leaving holographic scars in the shape of his teeth. “Jinu did not lie to you about that, and I think you believed him. Even before you wanted to.”

She nods, seemingly ashamed that she did, but unable to deny the pull she now feels to him. “Did Jinu lie when he said he wasn’t going to help Gwi ma anymore?”

“Yes and no,” she looks confused at my answer.

“What does that mean?” she frowns.

“I think, that after finding out you were his mate, he stopped wanting to help Gwi ma.”

“But?”

“But because of what you did to me-” anxiety spikes as the memories play again. Warmth spreads within seconds, allowing me to take a deep breath and continue. Thank you Baby. “And the memories that haunt, not only Jinu, but the others too. They became my friends, I know it may seem like they do all this for Gwi ma. But they don’t. They will continue if it means they can get rid of their memories. Probably until its too late.”

“I guess… I guess I can’t blame them for that…” she sighs, gaze falling to the grass in front of her, like she can’t bear to meet mine. “For what it’s worth… I am so-rry,” her voice cracks. Her mask faltering as tears roll freely off her cheeks. “… I’m so- so sor-ry…” her shoulders shake. “I- I panicked! I never-” she sniffles. “I never wanted to hurt- you.”

“It hurt… so much,” I croak out, unable to keep from crying myself. Being this close yet so far from my sister. It was agony. “Not just the betrayal…” a quick intake of breath which does little to stop my emotions from going haywire. “It was like I was- like I was being burned… in, I don’t know, hell fire,” I struggle to find the words. Trying to paint a picture she would - hopefully - never feel. "Gwi ma, tortured me... with it... making it play- over and over," I pause. "Louder, every time," my voice just above a whisper. It hangs in the air for an uncertain amount of time.

“Can I please- hug you?” her voice is so soft, I barely catch her words. Looking up in surprise. Wondering if I even heard her right. My eyes find hers already staring at me. Switching between either one in desperation. I barely finish my nod and she on her feet.

We crush together in the middle. Arms wrapped tightly around each other. Tears ruining each others clothes, not that we cared about that in the moment, or ever.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” her voice is shaky as she whispers the words, over an over. Hiding her face in my shoulder. I feel us sink to the gravel, never letting go.

I don't know how long we stay there, just crying while we hold onto each other desperately.

“I missed you so much,” she whispers when we finally stopped crying. Pulling away enough to look at me up close. A shaky smile forms on my lips as I nod in agreement.

“I missed you too, even though I felt betrayed,” I sigh, using one hand to wipe away left over tears. “Mira and Zoey too.”

“I know they miss you too,” it surprises me. Her voice is so full of raw emotion I know she’s not lying. “We regret it so much, me the most,” she points at her own chest. “I lost my voice, I couldn’t sing anymore. I didn’t think I deserved to either way.”

We are hunters, voices strong

I start, which she quickly catches on to. Joining me.

Slaying demons with our song Fix the world and make it right When darkness finally meets the light

Our foreheads meet in the middle. It held a lot more meaning now. We weren’t singing about slaying literally demons. It was about our thoughts. How we can speak our truth to each other now. Where her darkness meets my light and we can still fix all this. “That is the first time I’ve sang since the performance before… you know.”

“Meeting Jinu, my voice returned. I had someone who I could talk about my patterns with again,” Rumi confesses. “Someone I could be completely me with, but it was different.”

“It is,” I nod, separating our connection. “Because he is your mate. I had the same with Baby. Even if I didn’t want to believe demons could be nice at first,” I shake my head, getting a smile from her. “Also, would you believe it! Not all demons are ugly like we thought,” this gets her to laugh uncontrollably, happy tears playing on the rims of her eyes. She pulls me impossible closer, letting out a shuddering sigh of relief.

“Hey, can demons only have demon mates?” I ask, still confused by Romance, Mystery’s and Abby’s recent behavior changes.

“Uhm, no,” Mystery answers my question surprisingly. His expression unreadable. “Could be a human too,” the way he drags out ‘too’, only confirms my suspicions.

“Am I correct in assuming you three have found your mates in my human band members?” it’s hard to hide the smirk that starts tugging at my lips. Abby is the first to react, his gaze flicking to me in an instant. Got you. “I knew it!” I fist pump the air in excitement.

“Why does our misery excite you exactly?” Romance asks, sinking lower into the couch.

“Well,” I draw out the word as I get off of Baby’s lap. Much to his dismay. “Because it changes everything!”

“What are you talking about?” Abby asks, confusion written on all over their faces. Except, Baby, which surprises me only a little. Maybe my feelings about this have bled into him more than I thought.

“Don’t you see,” I start, pacing in front of them. “All of you have mates on this plane. Hunters to be precise,” I explain it like it’s obvious. “If we destroy them, you’ll never be with them!” this seems to make all of them pause.

“They hate demons, remember,” Romance’s voice is edged with a depression I had never seen on the man.

“That doesn’t mean they can’t change!” my voice is almost desperate. Trying to get them to see what I see. “If- if,” my thoughts go too fast for my mouth to keep up. A hand takes mine, Baby. I breathe. “If we can convince Rumi that we will help them seal the Honmoon-”

“What!?” that comes from all three of them at once.

“Listen to me!” I snap, gripping Baby’s hand tighter. “If we help them seal the Honmoon, while we are on this plane. It will keep us here!” slowly their gaze shift from disbelief to something I can’t place. Something like… hope. Or maybe fear of even the thought of hope. “Gwi ma won’t have control over us.”

“How are you so sure?” Mystery asks, his voice soft. Unrecognizable from his normal confident self.

“Because Rumi and I were already born when the Honmoon was last sealed,” I tell them. “We stayed here, lead normal human lives. Even if we had to hide our patterns.”

“Alright, I’ll trust you on this,” Abby says sitting up straight. This gets the other two to agree soon after.

“How do we make it happen?”

“Jinu, you need to talk to Rumi. Tell her our plan,” I turn to Jinu. “She’ll do whatever she can to ensure Mira and Zoey will not harm us. I’m sure of it, but we will have to keep pretending to do this for Gwi ma,” the plan was simple really. It would all end tomorrow at the International Idol Awards.

“Two bands, one award,” the intro starts playing on the tv in the Saja Boys’ dressing room. “Every snowflake is special. But one snowflake is probably the best. Who will be the top the the mountain?”

“Is this guy for real?” Abby asks in disbelief. I smack his arm playfully.

“Hey, this is a respected award show,” I tell him. “We are five-year reigning champions, I’ll have you know,” Baby chuckles at my defense, squeezing my side.

“Fans from around the universe will decide!” The stage comes into view. The stadium filled to the brim with fans. “Finally, the moment you’ve been waiting for. Here are the five-year reigning champs of the International Idol Awards, Huntrix!”

“Okay, it’s time,” I tell them. “Fake the fight,” immediately they start arguing about stupid things like stolen shoes. Men, am I right? But it sounds believable, especially through he nearly sound proof door.

“Versus the heart-stealing newcomers, the Saja Boys! Who will win?” “Please welcome to the stage, the Saja Boys!”

“The Saja Boys, are having a fight,” I tell a staff member as I open the door just a peep. “They will not be performing tonight,” Their eyes seem to widen. Rushing away. Most likely to tell other staff and Bobby of the earlier performance of the Huntrix.

Closing the door behind me, I give them a thumbs up. “Now we just let it play out.”

Everything quiets down in the room. Watching in anticipation, hoping it would work.

“Uh, okay, there’s been a slight change in schedule,” the host announces.

Baby is sat on the arm rest of the leather couch in the room. I sit right on the edge between his legs, his arms wrapped tightly around my waist. Possessive, protective. Afraid of loosing me, just as I am to loose him if this goes bad.

Romance, Abby and Mystery actually sit on the three seater leather couch. Jinu, nervously sat on the other arm rest. Tension was high.

“Here to preform their hot new single, Golden, it’s Huntrix!”

“What?” my voice is laced with confusion. The door to the dressing room slams open. Startling everyone in the room.

“Y/n, quick.”

“When you told me to wear my golden costume, you could have told me this was the reason for it,” I tell Rumi while she throws a headworn microphone at me.

I lock eyes with Baby, portraying that I didn’t know.

“You go this,” he winks confidently. “I’ll be right here when you return,” I smash our lips together in a desperate kiss. Pouring all my fear into it along with anxious hope. “Go, darling,” his voice soft as he wipes a tear I didn’t know escaped off my cheek.

Breaking away, I watch as Rumi pulls away from a similar kiss with Jinu. A blush covering her cheeks. With that we run out the room.

“Do Zoey and Mira know I’m here to perform?” I ask on the way.

“Uhm, kind of?” Rumi admits, grimacing.

“Rumi!”

“I told them to trust me, alright!” we reach the girls just in time. It luckily doesn’t give the two the chance to ask any questions as we get lifted up to the stage.

I start my part, the crowd cheering in surprise.

I was a ghost, I was alone. Eo du wojin, ap gil sok e Given the throne I didn’t know How to believe I was the queen that I’m meant to be!

Thankfully, it all goes smoothly as we continue the song. Leaving the stage when its time for Rumi’s solo. I anxiously keep my distance from Zoey and Mira. Though I’m not too worried with so many people around.

“She’s killing it out there!” Zoey nearly screams overjoyed to see my sister sing well once more. Mira on the other hand doesn’t seem to be sure whether she should be glaring at me or feel grateful that I’m actually still alive. In the end she shakes her head.

“Let’s go finish this,” but commotion backstage draws our attention. We watch Bobby being dragged away by to people, their eyes flashing gold before disappearing around the corner. “Bobby?” Zoey turns to glare at me instantaneously.

“This isn’t us, I swear,” I hold up my hands trying to prove my innocence. “I didn’t do this!”

“Stay away from us,” Mira hisses at me as I go to follow them to help Bobby. My breath quickens as I watch them run away. The staff yelling after them that they’re on in 20 seconds.

“What is happening?” I mutter, dashing in the other direction. I crash straight into the dressing room. All five of them are still sat there, watching Rumi perform.

Baby is at my side in seconds. “What’s going on?”

“Who took Bobby!?” my voice is more confused than accusatory, but its there. Their brows furrow. “I thought we agreed.”

“We did,” Mystery stands up confused. “What do you mean, who took Bobby?”

Realization dawns on me, my eyes darting to the screen. “Rumi…” I breath, watching as the music changes from Golden to an entirely different song. One I didn’t know. Mira and Zoey join her back onstage… but something is off about them. “I have to get to Rumi!”

Emotion crowds my chest as I teleport in bursts, racing closer and closer to the stage. But I’m too late.

The fakes have already exposed her patterns.

“No!” Rumi’s voice pierces the air. Lights break in her wake. Her patterns start glowing purple. Unable to hide them anymore. She’s trembling. Frantic, scared, exposed.

Out of the corner of my eye I see the real Zoey and Mira return on the other side of the stage. Stopping in their tracks at the sight of Rumi. And slowly they step back. Back… away from her.

Rumi gains enough control of herself and runs off stage. I quickly run after her, but I’m not fast enough to stop her from running into Mira and Zoey. Witnessing their conversation from the stairs.

“How are you here?” I hear Rumi’s shaky voice. “You were just on stage. That wasn’t you?” She trembling like crazy. “Oh, thank goodness,” she takes a step closer to them. But they just take a steps back. “No. No!” her gaze falls to her hands, the patterns on full display. Not hidden like she expected them to be.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Zoey’s voice is surprisingly soft as she questions Rumi. “You knew about Y/n because you are one too.”

Her breath hitches. “Yes, but-” she stutters. “I didn’t have a- have choice.”

“You lied to us,” Mira’s voice is sharp. “This whole time?”

“No, I-” she shakes her head vividly. “We had a plan.”

“We?”

“Sealing the Honmoon,” I finally speak up. Revealing myself to them. Joining Rumi. Mira and Zoey take another step back, drawing their weapons on us, but not yet pointing them at us.

“You told us to trust you,” Zoey's voice is colder than I have ever heard it.

“And it back fired, on not just us, but on you too,” if looks could kill, Mira’s gaze would have sent us straight to hell.

“No,” I tell them, shaking my head. “This wasn’t us,” I say referring to me and the Saja Boys. “We wanted you guys to seal the Honmoon tonight.”

“It was supposed to save us,” Rumi adds, taking my hand with her shaky one. “We were supposed to become normal… and be together again.”

“How could we be together if we can’t tell your lies from your truths, Rumi?”

“I knew it, I knew it was too good to be true,” Mira’s voice is filled with disappointment.

“Mira, no! Didn’t you see?” Rumi tries once more as a desperate attempt. “See the gold? We’re so close!” instead they only back up further as she tries to get closer to them. “No, don’t leave! We can still…”

“Fix this!” my voice combines with hers makes the Honmoon ring magenta. Loosing us whatever trust that would have been left from the two. Mira pointing her woldo at us.

“Zoey, please,” my voice trembles. Tears in my eyes. It doesn’t change anything. She too readies her kunai’s. Before they can try to use them on us. I squeeze Rumi’s hand and teleport her with me.

I wasn’t entirely sure where I took us. But it became clear as our eyes followed how the Honmoon was breaking apart. Our gaze landing on the Shinmok. Celine stood there, back to us. But she knew we were there. Turning around with her nat suddenly, as if to catch us off guard.

“Rumi? Y/n?”

“I thought we could fix it,” Rumi says. Staring blankly at the ground. Voice going static.

“They know of both of us now,” my voice seems to do the same as we near Celine.

“There is no denying it now.”

“There is no fixing it.”

“This is what we are,” The slow tearing of the Honmoon had both of us looking mostly demon, mirrored glowing patterns, one gold eye each.

“Y/n, how?” they had to have told Celine the truth of what happened that night. She wouldn’t have been as surprised to see me if they hadn’t. They thought I had been dead. “I tried to protect you,” Celine continues, stepping cautiously closer to us. “When we lost your mother, I swore to protect you both. But I never thought that you would be children like this,” her voice trembles as she reaches out to us but can’t seem to touch us. Doesn’t dare to touch us. “Everything I was taught told me you two were wrong, but I made a promise. So I did my best to accept you and help you-”

“Accept us?” Rumi asks, meeting Celine’s tear filled gaze. “You told us to cover up, to hide.”

“Yes, until we can fix everything-”

“And look where that got us,” I scoff. “If we had been honest… from the start,” I choke on my own emotions. “We wouldn’t look like this now.”

“The Honmoon would have been golden already.”

“We can still fix this,” Celine mumbles she steps away from us.

“Don’t you get it!”

“This is what we are!” Rumi and I speak sentence after sentence like we had rehearsed this. But we hadn’t, we just knew exactly what we were trying to get across to her.

“Look at us,” we state when she will no longer dare to look us in the eyes. To truly see what she caused. “Why can’t you look at us?! Why couldn’t you love us?!”

“I do!”

“Every part of us!” our combined cry for acceptance creates another magenta ripple to run over the Honmoon around us. Spreading wider than before.

“This is why we have to hide it,” Celine sounds desperate and out of breath. Looking around frantically at the Honmoon. “Our faults and fears must never been seen. It’s the only way to protect the Honmoon.”

Silence.

“If this is the Honmoon we’re supposed to protect, we’re glad to see it destroyed,” with that we leave her there.

Our agreement is silent as we meet at moms grave once more. “We’re going to have to create a new Honmoon,” I tell her. The both of us pacing the ground.

“Yes, we do.”

“I have a plan, one sec,” I leave her for approximately five seconds before returning with the Saja Boys. Jinu immediately takes Rumi in a protective hold.

“Do you know, how hard it was for me to not follow you,” Baby whispers in my ear as he stands behind me. Wrapping an arm around my waist.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize, turning sideways to peck his cheek. “Thank you for trusting me,” he responds to my words with a bite to my mating mark making me shiver deliciously. “Not now," I scold him.

“Anyways, plan,” Romance asks.

“Right, have you guys spoke to Gwi ma yet?”

“Yes,” Abby answers. “He believes we are still on his side. He just thought it took too long. Sorry for that Rumi,” he apologizes awkwardly to my sister.

“We genuinely didn’t know this would happen,” Jinu adds, squeezing the girl who accepts the apology.

“That’s good, did he miss me there?” I ask.

“I don’t think he could care less,” Baby says, seemingly relieved knowing I’m pretty much not a target for Gwi ma. “But Gwi ma has everyone in a trance. They are all going to Namsan Tower.”

“Okay, we can work with that,” Rumi says, running her brain for ideas.

“Including, Zoey and Mira,” Mystery adds, worry lacing his voice.

“Okay, that makes it a bit harder,” I admit.

“Gwi-ma wants us to do a show there, to keep the people tranced,” Jinu goes to explain Gwi ma’s plan. “That way they will willingly walk into his fire.”

“Do it,” I tell them, seriously. All six of them stare at me like I grew three heads. “We can put a stop to it,” I point my finger between me and Rumi. “Trust me.”

It doesn’t take the boys a lot of convincing, they nod. Jinu leaves a linger kiss on Rumi’s lips. “Take care of yourself,” he tells her sincerely. She nods in silent promise.

“If anything goes wrong, I will protect you,” Baby says to me. “Even if it kills me,” I want to tell him no, but he connects our lips and disappears before I can melt into it.

Rumi and I meet eyes, scared but ready.

Oh!

Rumi’s voice rings loud and clear through Namsan Tower. Cutting the boys off. People clear the way for a view of Rumi. Stood there, broken but true.

We are hunters. Voices strong. Slaying demons with our song. Fix the world and make it right. When darkness finally meets the light.

“You come here like this?” no one is walking towards the flames anymore, just like I suspected. “You think you can fix the world? You can’t even fix yourself,” Gwi ma plays with her shame and insecurities.

“I can’t,” she admits, sullenly.

“And now everyone finally sees you for what you really are.”

“They do.”

“And the Honmoon is gone.”

“It is,” Gwi ma thinks he’s won. “So we can make a new one,” her gaze grows serious.

Nothing but the truth now. Nothing but the proof of what I am.

She walks as she sings, closer. Transforming unknowingly, but I see it. Patterns glowing like iridescent glass, shifting though colors with every note she sings.

The worst of what I came from Patterns I’m ashamed of Things that even I don’t understand I tried to fix it I tried to fight it My head was twisted My heart divided My lies all collided I don’t know why I didn’t Trust you to be on my side

That’s when I join, appearing right next to her.

I broke into a million pieces, and I can't go back But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like

My eyes find Zoey, who is emerging from the crowd, soul glowing bright. Rumi finding Mira just the same.

Why did I cover up the colors stuck inside my head?

Zoey joins with her own truth.

I should've let the jagged edges meet the light instead

Mira, putting her trust in us more than she ever could.

Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony The song we couldn't write, this is what it sounds like

“Stop this song!” Gwi ma demands. Three tears open at the center of the stage. Demons crawling out fast. But we don’t stop.

We're shattering the silence, we're rising defiant Shouting in the quiet, you're not alone

We draw our weapons. Rumi, her sword, Mira her woldo, Zoey her Kunai’s. And me, I draw my dual daggers.

We listened to the demons, we let them get between us But none of us are out here on our own

We fight through the demons with ease, continuing our song. Souls lighting in the crowd as our voices harmonize and grow strong.

So, we were cowards, so, we were liars So, we're not heroes, we're still survivors The dreamers, the fighters, no lying, I'm tired But dive in the fire and I'll be right here by your side

Meeting in the center, we hug, creating a brand new Honmoon.

“I promise you, I am on your side,” I tell them.

“We know,” Zoey breathes with relief.

“Trust me, when I tell you that the Saja boys are on our side,” they hesitate for a moment when our eyes connect. But with a nod from Rumi, they nod too.

We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back But now we're seeing all the beauty in the broken glass The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head? Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like

More demons spawn, crawling their way to us. The Saja boys flying up into the air. Rumi pushes forward while, Zoey, Mira and I take care of the crawling demons coming at us.

Though, Gwi ma, quickly calls them back. Abby and Romance swooping down, pretending to attack Mira. A spike of fear runs through me at the sight. Afraid she’ll attack them anyway, but she pretends right back.

Mystery lands before Zoey, staring her down menacingly. Baby, grabbing a hold of me from behind. I know he’s trying to protect me and fight away a smile that’s threatening to break on my face.

“You’re voices cannot ... defeat ... me!” Gwi ma yells, sending a blast directly at Rumi. She reacts quick enough, using her sword as a shield.

“No!” I scream out. Jinu and I seem to have the same plan.

He is there first, taking the brute force of the blast.

But I teleport behind him. Pushing him at Rumi, they both gasp. Turning to me.

“Y/n!” my eyes shift to Baby. He tries but fails to get to me. Teleporting in spurts before collapsing on the ground. Feeling exactly what I feel.

It’s not just physical. It’s like my body and soul are being torn apart from the inside out. It's that hell fire all over again, but triple the pain.

“Y/n, no,” Rumi’s voice is filled with fear. Jinu’s eyes shift from mine to Baby where he lays on the stage floor.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper. “for wanting revenge.”

“No,” she shakes her head vividly. Not agreeing with what I said. “I deserved it!” she nearly yells at me.

“It’s okay,” I struggle to smile. The pressure of the blast almost becoming to much. My heart pounds in my ears, louder and louder. Deafening me as my eyes slowly blur to a close.

But I don’t wither away like I expect. I can feel my body fighting the blast. A war raging beneath my skin. I don’t need to see it to know what’s happening.

The iridescent patterns, spread. Like veins of molten light weaving across my skin. Swallowing my entire body, covering every inch of me in the iridescent glow.

Growing brighter like a blinding radiant light, gasps ring in my head as my body blinds everyone present. Drowning the tower in an otherworldly glow.

This is what does it. All souls seem to come to life. I can’t see it, but I can feel it. From where I’m floating. The crowd sings the song. Letting Rumi, Mira and Zoey use their souls to defend themself against Gwi ma.

We broke into a million pieces, and we can't go back But now I'm seeing all the beauty in the broken glass The scars are part of me, darkness and harmony My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like Why did we cover up the colors stuck inside our head? Get up and let the jagged edges meet the light instead Show me what's underneath, I'll find your harmony Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like

My eyes finally seem to open as I float with them. High, higher. My voice returns and I’m able to join them in over powering Gwi ma. Our voices sealing the new Honmoon.

My voice without the lies, this is what it sounds like Fearless and undefined, this is what it sounds like Truth after all this time, our voices all combined When darkness meets the light, this is what it sounds like

“Shit, Y/n,” Mira curses when the four land back on stage. But Y/n doesn’t stay standing. If it weren’t for Mira’s quick reaction time to keep her up.

Rumi is quick to help her keep, Y/n up. Worry running through her body. It’s Zoey who checks for a pulse.

“She’s alive,” she announces quietly. Their eyes find the Saja boys, still there, back in human form. Mystery and Abby carrying a, in a similar state, Baby.

A groan escapes me lips, turning around. Or trying to anyway, to face away from the light shining onto my face. The sharpness of it, not helping my headache in the slightest.

I finally manage to turn around in the tangles of my covers, taking in a deep breath. Snuggling my face into the pillow in front of me. Why is it so hard tho? I go to punch it, so it's soft but my hand finds a chest instead.

"Ow," it's not a sound of actually pain, but my eyes shoot open anyways. I instantly regret it when I'm hit with a sharp spike from the headache. Squeezing my eyes shut, arms wrap around me tighter. Pulling me closer to the person. Opening my eyes again, slower this time.

I look up, finding Baby already lazily staring back at me. A gentle smile on his lips. "Hello, darling," his voice deep from sleep.

"Hi..." I melt back into him. Snuggling my face back into his chest. Wrapping my right arm around him, grabbing hold of him tightly. The room stays silent for a while, apart from our soft breathing.

"Wait," I mumble, my eyes opening once me. "I'm alive...?"

"I guess we are," Baby agrees. A flash of him not being able to make it to me in time has chills running down my spine.

"But..." I'm so confused. "But how?" I don't remember anything of what happened after I closed my eyes when the blast got too much. "How long have we been asleep for?"

"I don't know, but it could have been longer had you not punched me," he smirks teasingly, making me pout. He kisses it away, his hands finding my waist, tickling me.

Laughter filling the room, headache gone with the wind.

"What is going on!?" the door to the room gets thrown open. Smashing against the wall. Startling us, our gazes turning to said door.

There we find, Rumi, Jinu, Zoey & Mira, Mystery, Romance and Abby close behind them.

"You're awake!" Zoey scream, rushing over to what I now realize is old my bed at the Huntrix apartment. Pulling me from Baby, she hugs me tight, Rumi and Mira not far behind. Engulfed in a hug of the people I love the most. Well, besides Baby of course.

"You guys," my voice muffled by Rumi's hoodie. "I need to actually breathe," I chuckle when they actually give me some room. "What happened?"

"Later, first food," Mira says, pulling out of bed. Had they put my pajamas on me? I wonder as I stare down at my llama pants. The men in the room just chuckle, including Baby. He to gets out of bed, wearing his own set of pajamas. Not once I had ever seen before though. They matched mine too, only his were black and white, while mine were white and black.

Before I can ask anymore questioned we're being ushed out the room. Straight to the living room where I'm made to sit down. In an instant I'm being handed my flavor ramyeon. I don't question why they had it ready already. Baby taking a seat next to me, being handed a cup of my flavor ramyeon.

They all gather around us, just staring at up with grateful smiles which kinda creeps me out. But I let it slide for a second when I notice Zoey sitting close to Mystery. My eyes shooting to Mira, happy to find her as she takes a seat between Abby and Romance.

"... Okay, now tell us what happened," I demand as we eat slowly. Wanting them to stop gawking at us.

It's a story told like a disoriented bird. It goes left, right, up down, never straight. But it's nice to hear them talking. I sink against Baby.

Listen to them explain how they all thought we were dead, pointing at both Baby and me. Relieved when they found a pulse on both of us. "Going to a hospital wasn't gonna do anything," Zoey rambles, shaking her hand dismissively. "So we brought you here."

"And we waited," Mira adds.

"And waited," Rumi adds, grinning.

"And totally did not prepare two ramyeon for you everyday in anticipation or anything," Zoey continues. Making my eyes widen. Turning my head I look at our kitchen. Stacks upon stacks of opened, hopefully empty, ramyeon cups stood on the counter.

"Oh don't worry, thats only like, idk 50 cups," Jinu shrugs.

"What!? We were OUT for 25 days!?"

"Uhm..." Rumi, Mira and Zoey both count on their fingers. "No, 26 days," they say casually, pointing at the cups we were currently holding.

"Wha-" I look at Baby whose eyes are just as wide as mine.

"We knew you two would be fine," Romance says, shrugging his shoulders. "The fact that you two sealed your mating bond protected you."

"You can feel each others pain, yes," Jinu continues. "But you also take. So while yes, you took the full blast of it. Baby over here, took half if away from you."

"That saved you from it being a lethal blow," Mystery finishes. "It just took a while to recover," he smiles sweetly.

"Okay, wow," is all I can think to say. Leaning forward to put the now empty Ramyeon on the coffee table, taking Baby's before he can protest. "But I'm still confused, did we ... win?"

"Yes," Mira chuckles. "You actually sung with is, do you not remember that?"

"No, I don't remember anything that happened after I closed my eyes. and thought I would die," Baby sat cross legged. So I swiftly placed my self between his legs. Instantly his arms wrap around my shoulders. Pecking the top of my head, lingering.

"It was so cool!" Zoey goes off. "You turned like fully iridescent! It was blinding! But that is what let us defeat Gwi ma."

"Okay, one more question," I state. "Is everything good, are we good? Did you guys tell them...?" instantly Zoey blushes and Mira turns surprisingly red. A rare sight.

"Yes, we are mated," Mystery smiles lovingly at Zoey, who turns to him. Pecking his lips sweetly.

"Us, too," Abby smirks. "We managed to tie this beauty down," he says squeezing Mira's waist who sends him a playful glare. Romance chuckling and pecking her cheek.

The end!

// Main Story // Bonus Chapters //

#kpop demon hunters #saja boys #baby saja x reader #Rumi x Jinu #Rujinu #Zoey x Mystery #Romance x Mira x Abby #plot with smut #minors do not interact #english is not my first language #I poured my heart and soul into this #please don't crush it #femhuntrix reader #huntrix reader #huntrix reader x baby saja

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