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lovedrunkheadcanons · 4 months ago

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Chapter Contents

(Arranged Marriage Fic) Read on AO3

RATED M: WARNINGS: smut, blowjob, wife giving, husband receiving, arranged marriage, yada, yada, yada...

Before the Warring States and Tokugawa shogunate, archeologists estimated there were once 30,000 palaces and fortresses scattered throughout Japan. When Tokugawa Ieyasu’s power waned and the Meiji era rose to prominence, that figure dwindled to a gapping 200. And by the dawn of the 20th century, combined with the wake of World War II, and the quick, sudden death of the Japanese aristocracy, the loss of palatial infrastructure was so great that some palaces were either voluntarily dismantled or left for scrap.

The Cultural Property Preservation Law, thus upending the Kokuhō Hozon-h�� of 1929, currently recognized 62 castle gates and 61 turrets across 27 estates as being Jūyō Bunkazai (重要文化財) or “Important Cultural Properties.” Of those 27 estates, seven “original” palaces held the designation, with five additional palaces bestowed the higher designation of “National Treasure.”

Like her seven proud sisters, Hirosaki Castle was one of the palaces designated an Important Cultural Property, and the most well-preserved castle in northern Japan. In the 400 years since her construction under the Tsugaru clan, she’d housed many a samurai and seen much of war. The beating heart of Hirosaki City, her plastered white walls, curved tiled roofs, and earthen ramparts had survived a devastating fire in 1627 from the likes of a lightning bolt striking the central tower, and was reduced from having a five level Tenshu to three come 1810. Her domain spanned across 124 acres and included a bailey containing five original yaguramon (tower gates), three towers, and a guardhouse, each with their own name and classification, which was now accessible to the public as a national park and museum. And, as with all major palaces, a large lake garden (originally moats) circumfretted the estate in Japanese maple and ginkgo and other local fauna.

None was this garden’s beauty more appreciated than in autumn, when late October favored the occasion for Hirosaki Castle’s Annual Chrysanthemum and Autumn Foliage Festival.

Hannah was ecstatic.

Their weekend trip to Hirosaki Castle would mark her very first festival. Satoru planned to take her during Obon - as its festivals were quite popular - but work got in the way and he’d been forced to depart on a last-minute mission, to his great reluctance. He figured it was time for a change in scenery, and the suffusion of chrysanthemums and flower decor was sure to suit Hannah’s fancy.

To his pure delight, she’d been buzzing in her seat the entire train ride. The journey from Tokyo to Hirosaki City took almost five hours by train, but granted onlookers the opportunity to capture Japan’s natural beauty. As a small gift, Satoru had bought Hannah a brand new Nikon camera, which she quickly put to use. Every few minutes or so, he’d sneak her snapping a picture of the passing autumnal mountainscape, tongue sticking out as she focused the lens, her hazel eyes wide and innocently transfixed. “Pretty,” he’d hear her whisper. The sight made his chest ease and his tummy flutter. This was what love felt like. Ugh, adorable.

The cute pink puffer jacket she wore and pom-pom hat shaped like a polar bear made her all the more adorable. The weather was forecasted to be quite cold. He had stuffed her mittens inside his coat pockets in case she needed them.

“Say cheese,” she sang, facing the camera towards him.

Satoru was in the middle of slurping a hot cocoa, he hadn’t had time to wipe his face before the Nikon went “click.”

Hannah couldn’t contain her giggle as she sat back down and showed him the result, gushing. Satoru leaned over her shoulder.

Yup, she got him good. The photo caught the Six Eyes wielder completely off guard, a blinking look of surprise marring his face, strewn with a mustache of whipped cream atop his upper lip. His oval sunglasses were sliding off his nose.

“Gotcha,” she gloated.

Satoru scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes. “You just got lucky,” and hurriedly swiped the cream off his lips.

Hannah beamed him a winning smile and giggled again, her freckled cheeks rosy as could be. She was really pretty when she smiled. It gave Satoru an idea.

“Hey, I got a better one for ya.” He dished out his phone and waved his finger. “C’mere.”

Hannah tilted her head, curious at what he was planning, but scooted on closer. Satoru took off his sunglasses and folded them in his lap. Protectively, she felt his arm drape over her shoulders, embracing her to him. Comfortable with their position, he then angled the phone in front of them and switched the camera to “selfie mode.” He sweetly rested his chin atop her head, smelling the lavender in her shampoo.

“Smile.”

Realizing now what he was up to, Hannah cuddled into him and smiled up at the camera.

His thumb tapped the button.

Wedded bliss frozen in time. The selfie had been their first taken as husband and wife. Their very first picture, on their way to Hannah’s very first autumn festival. Memories they’d look back on when they were old and grey, when life would become tough and the world a mess. But this. This was theirs to keep forever. A happiness no tragedy or disaster could upend. A marriage. A family.

“Not bad,” Satoru hummed.

“Yeah,” agreed Hannah, marveling at the Six Eyes, so nacreous and blue. Couldn’t replicate that color even if you tried. “We should have it framed when we get home. It can go on your nightstand.”

“Yeah.” This received her a loving peck on the cheek. “I’d like that. Good thinking. And Hannah?”

“Mmm?” she peered up at him.

He winked, showing her his camera screen again, this time with a picture of him having just kissed her cheek.

“Gotcha.”

One of the five go-sekku, Chrysanthemums festivals were first introduced to Japan via China, who venerated the autumn flower for its timeless beauty and medicinal properties. It was believed steeping the petals in a hot tea could elongate one's life and cure aches and pains. For that reason, it was popular for palaces and Buddhist shrines to plant mums in gardens. The Imperial Seal of Japan, stamped on every passport and royal document, also bore the bloom as its emblem, and many poets and artists used the herbaceous flora for inspiration. Some restaurants even utilized the petals as a garnish when serving sashimi.

Hannah knew mums belonged to the Asteraceae family, placing them in the same grouping as daisies, dahlias, and zinnias. In fact, a lesser known name for a chrysanthemum was a “florist’s daisy.” They came in a variety of cultivars and colours; mostly reds, yellows, and purples, some with long, spider-like petals that stretched outwards like sea anemones, others more compact with tightly-round layers reminiscent of doll faces. Cheerey as could be.

The Hirosaki Castle gardens were rife with them, exhibiting a magnanimous array of species and shapes. Atsumono. Kudamono. Ichimonji. Every variant one could think of. Hannah took her time admiring the flower beds, zooming her camera to capture the perfect photo.

They departed for Hirosaki Castle immediately after checking into their inn. Satoru didn’t want a place too far and optioned for a location within walking distance; a ryokan owned by a kind elderly couple 15 mins from the castle. They took their key, dropped their bags, and arrived at the castle by early afternoon, more than enough time to enjoy the festival and eat lunch.

“A lot of people here today,” Hannah commented when they crossed the palace gates. She was right. There were a lot of people, but Satoru said it only elevated the experience. The more the merrier.

At least, that’s what he told her. In truth, this was no time to slack off. Hannah has to stay with you at all times, rang Nanami’s voice. The Six Eyes wielder scanned the area for any potential adversaries. It already bothered him that a pair of perverted young men, who were clearly from the countryside and had never seen a foreigner before, were taking random snapshots of his wife without her knowledge. He’d issued them the most menacing glare. Get lost. The tourists would catch the flash of his eyes and immediately hightail it in the other direction. That’s right, dweebs, keep your dicks in your pants. She’s mine.

They toured the rows of chrysanthemum gardens. Horticulturists had weaved storytelling into that year’s displays. Lifesize dolls, covered head to toe in real flowers, brought to life many of the folktales passed down by tradition, including historic figures like Lord Tsuguru walking amongst the flowers, he too partaking in the festivities like his subjects, katana strapped to his waist.

The most striking red maples Satoru had ever seen cloaked the surrounding forest in fire, made more intense by the brightness of the autumn sun. At night, spotlights would illuminate the maples, so only the scarlet leaves were visible amongst the shadows, making the viewing more memorable for garden enthusiasts. They’d be sure to return come sunset to see for themselves.

For a low admission fee, Hirosaki Castle could be seen up close and toured on the inside. Except, upon arriving, the size of the castle bore little semblance to what they imagined.

“It’s so tiny,” Hannah squealed, pretending to squish the castle between her fingers. “How cute.”

“Kind of a let down,” Satoru muttered. He had yet to see the castle in person until now.

Hannah took his hand. “I wanna go in, c’mon.”

This was easier said than done. Standing 6’3 had its drawbacks. The door leading inside the castle was so squat and narrow, Satoru had to bow half-way to fit through, while his wife sauntered in like it was made for her. The castle’s interior was nothing special (in his opinion), just a gift shop and a video detailing the current renovations plans. However, there was an alarmingly steep flight of stairs with a red warning sign nailed to the wall. Satoru was close to having a mini heart attack, watching his wife hobble up the creaking wooden boards. He kept a ready hand on her bum, following close behind. The way down was more perilous, him holding onto her hand afraid she’d slip and roll an ankle. By the time they’d finished roaming the small castle, Satoru felt he had a permanent crick in his back.

The boat ride was much more relaxing. He and Hannah boarded a little isobune, oarred by a retired fisherman, who glided them around the moat. The cascade of falling orange and gold leaves landing atop the water was breathtaking as they passed under a red bridge, and the unshaded sun felt good on their faces, despite the chilly weather. Hannah rested her head along Satoru’s arm and closed her eyes, listening to the water churn against the oar and a lark singing in the distance. The world at peace.

They ate rice balls and fish sticks and caramelized apples from a vendor parked along the garden path. Then finished their day with scouting the nursery where visitors could buy bushels of chrysanthemums and ornate bonsai. Hannah was tempted, but thought the chrysanthemums they had back home were better.

At last, the sun dipped behind the northern mountains. The Gojo couple stuck around to take pictures of the illuminated maple trees. The pathway had become so dark. It was difficult to see anything other than the red and gold leaves. The rest was pitch black.

“Oh, Satoru. Look at these.” Hannah raced towards a group of maples she’d spotted.

There was a rustling noise. Unsettling laughter.

“You could do it, Satoru…The impossible.”

Satoru hurriedly whipped around.

“Even that has meaning…”

But saw nothing. No one was there. The wind. Perhaps it was the wind. Yes, it was only the wind.

“Satoru?” Hannah called concernedly from ahead.

Deep breaths, Satoru. He was hearing things. It was all in his head. The Six Eyes would’ve seen him.

“Yeah, coming, sweetheart.”

That night they laid together in bed, skin to skin. It was smart of them to eat when they did. Most restaurants were closed by the time they arrived back at their ryokan. Hannah was busy massaging his hands, running her little fingers over the minuscule scars and toughened calluses, relieving the tension in his joints. Felt good.

“Have you always liked being a giant?” she mused, halting her massage to splay her palm over his, not even half its size.

He grinned at her hyperbole, giving off a meager shrug. “There’s advantages, I guess. Makes me faster, stronger, but it also attracts unwanted attention. I can’t hide for shit.”

“True,” Hannah stipulated. “You do tend to stand out in a crowd.”

“Mmhm.” He absentmindedly began twisting the gold wedding band on her finger. Part of him contemplated whether buying her a diamond ring to go with it. Like they do in the movies.

“But I’d say you wear it rather well.”

He stopped twisting and huffed tiredly. “Not much choice in that regard. For me, it’s either fear the spotlight or embrace it. There's really no third option.”

Hannah planted a reassuring kiss on his chest near his heart.

“What about you?” he countered. “How have you liked being a mouse?”

She took slight umbridge at that. “I’m not a mouse.”

“Fine, a very cute mouse.”

She swatted him lightly before returning her head to his chest. “I suppose it has its upsides.” Her voice held a somber note as she traced his pectorals.”I can fade into the background whenever I want. No one cares if I’m here or there…”

He sensed she hadn’t finished. “But?”

“But that’s just it. No one cares what happens to a nobody.”

He brought the dainty hand tracing his muscles to his lips, kissing its knuckles.

“Try convincing me of that.”

Hannah smiled, thinking he was too good to be true and any moment she’d wake up from this dream. After so many years living a barely-there existence, this sense of belonging, of being wanted, was more than her prayers could answer. What a blessing to have this man in her life, despite the political circumstances surrounding their union. He deserved everything for making her this happy. She would gladly give what little she had, be it words or her body.

A titillating warmth pooled inside her stomach, spreading between her thighs, desirous and hungry, not quite satiated by their earlier round of sex. Propping herself on her elbows, her lips sought the company of his own. He welcomed them greedily, tongue slipping inside her mouth to lean in deeper for a taste. A languid moan hovered on the edge of her throat as she rolled her body on top of him, begging to be nearer, closer.

Satoru’s hands cupped her ass, kneading the soft flesh like mounds of dough. He too stifled a groan as her lips broke away and began trailing hot, steamy kisses down his neck, sucking and licking his collarbone. The hands cupping her bare ass squeezed harder as she worked her way towards his nipple, giving it a few teasing flicks. She lowered her hands, letting them run over the contour of his abs, down, down, down. He felt the jolt of electricity percolate through his spine to the very tip of his penis, pulsing incessantly.

Damn, she was learning fast, he thought, having recently confessed his secret like for nippie action. He reckoned he was rock solid now.

“Saaa~tor~uuuu,” she sang.

Holy fuck, and that voice. She could trick him into committing mass murder with that angel-sweet voice. The sway it had over him. Seemed like only yesterday she was standing in her wedding kimono, stuttering, too nervous to make eye contact till he forcibly grabbed her chin. Her confidence had since skyrocketed. For lack of a better analogy, she was playing him like a finely-tuned fiddle and he was powerless to fight her.

“Hannah,” he moaned, once her hand reached under to cup his balls. He surrendered a sharp gasp. She weighed them in her palm, gyrating them slowly just as he instructed her, careful not to hurt him.

“Yes, darling?” Her other hand reached over to grip the hard length of his cock, pressing loving circles into the base with her thumb. Then, gentle as a lamb, pulling it downwards, unfurling the delicate foreskin to reveal the slick head underneath.

For fuck’s sake.

“Is this alright, love?” she purred amorously. “Do you want me to stop?”

Only then did he realize he was short of breath.

“No,” he panted. “Never.”

Hannah held a serene, sated look on her face, not the kind born of selfish lust or sheer dominance, but of total adoration. “Okay then.” She pecked him on the lips for good luck and joined her thumb and index together just as he taught her, hovering them inches above his erection. “Ready?”

He gulped once and gave a swift nod. The hand came down.

His moans were immutable by that point, though, frankly, he didn’t give a shit. Because each second of his wife’s goddess-like touch, her magic fingers stroking his cock up and down, brought him closer to heaven.

“I know you’ve been stressed lately,” she soothed between strokes. “Just tell me when, darling.”

Boy, wasn’t that the truth. The threat of Suguru’s reemergence placed everyone on alert. The higher-ups were relentless in their tyranny, working Satoru to the bone. He’d been dispatched on three high-level missions last week spanning across the country, when all he wanted to do was sleep, eat mochi ice cream, and make hot love to his wife. On the surface he made it look easy, but on the inside he longed for a break.

That’s what he loved most about Hannah. She always knew. He didn’t have to lie and don the mask.

Her strokes grew faster.

For a brief moment, Satoru thought his soul tore in two. He was barely conscious of his surroundings. Planet Earth? Where’s that? All that remained was his wife’s melodic voice and the orgasm preparing to take over and exit his body. He felt the tension surmount in his groin, jizz funneling up his balls, waiting for its queue to shoot. His breathing quickened, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring.

Knowing he was close, Hannah sat up criss-cross on the bed and scooted herself in, wrapping his long legs around her waist to hold him steady, giving him perfect view of her breasts. Finding the position more comfortable, she continued stroking his cock in her lap like a clay potter, hands working and wringing him in. He couldn’t speak, or think straight. Soon his hips started to buck on their own accord.

“That's it, Satoru. Easy now.”

She didn’t have to do anything except keep her hands still. Nature would take care of the rest, the receptors in his brain telling his spine to “giddy up.”

His thrusts began to readily excelerate, going faster in conjunction with the volition of his climax, the back-and-forth friction causing Hannah’s hand to grow shockingly hot. She caught the sheen of sweat on his skin, the darkness of his cock. He grunted hard with each snap of his pelvis.

At once, his thrusts slowed, and then on the count of three, his hips jilted upwards for a grand finish.

He bellowed out her name as the orgasm tore through him, streams of thick jissom gushing over his stomach in quick bursts. Hannah continued pumping, squeezing out as much as she could, relishing the triumph of his release soiling her bare hands, keeping him going until he’d run on empty.

Considering how much they’d been making love, she was surprised he lasted as long as he did.

Hannah’s pumping lessened as his breathing gradually returned to normal, his senses coming to.

“Stay put,” she hushed, granting him a celebratory kiss. “I’ll go fetch you a towel.”

“Uh huh,” he groused, every muscle in his legs and groin feeling tingky and loose, brain lost in a fog. His tongue was like lead. He could barely form a sentence.

Brushing a stray lock of white hair from his face, Hannah left to go find him a clean towel.

Weakly, Satoru managed to glance down at the mess he had made on his thighs and stomach. He released a winded sigh as his head hit the pillow, then broke into a rich, hearty laugh. And to think this was now his new normal.

“Yare, yare.”

The couple decided to explore more of the city the next day. Satoru knew all the best spots in town, having frequented Hirosaki on countless missions. The city was small, a population of 180,000 or less, but held rich history regarding samurai and the Fujita family, making it notorious for curse incidents. Satoru couldn’t begin to recall how many strangers would come across a random cursed object; a sword, or an arrow head, stupidly get the idea to touch it, then wind up dead on the road somewhere for being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Always sucked when the victims were children.

Anyway, no need to relive those memories. Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts...

Hannah wanted to visit another garden - cause of course she did - and peruse the local shops. Great.

But first, breakfast.

Satoru discovered Cafe Buruman three summers ago while on the hunt for some shaved ice. He didn’t find the ice (sadly), but did sample a delicious raspberry tartlet and a frappuccino. And it was located right next to their ryokan, which may have not been accidental.

The cafe had a traditional charm to it, evident by its cypress furnishings and a rare selection of Okura Pottery bowls shelved behind the bar counter. Stored inside glass cabinets were other fine china pieces, some of which were available for purchase. Classical music played elegantly in the background. Hannah was smitten the moment they entered the door.

They placed their orders; Hannah, a fruit parfait and peach tea; Satoru, a chocolate tartlet and white mocha latte, and picked a table over by the window.

“I received an invitation the other day,” Hannah said once they were seated and their food arrived.

Satoru picked up his spoon. “Oh? From who?”

“Lady Kamo Hatsumomo.”

The spoonful of tartlet, having just reached his mouth, nearly rolled off his tongue in disgust.

Hannah took it as a bad sign. “I’m guessing you don’t like her?”

“Like her?” he said, chewing his tartlet. “The woman’s a psycho. I know her as the eldest sister of Lord Kamo. She thinks the jujutsu world’s main purpose in life is to uphold its most antediluvian precepts.”

“Antediluvian.” Hannah brightened. “There’s your word of the day.”

Satoru smirked. “I have my moments. The point is, she despises anyone who doesn’t conform to her narrow set of beliefs.”

“And me being a foreigner probably doesn’t help,” Hannah suspected.

Her husband frowned. “I doubt it.”

“Why would she invite me to her house then?”

Satoru too wondered this. On the one hand, it made perfect sense to invite Hannah as she was his wife and therefore carried great influence, but even so. Hatsumomo was no friend to non-sorcerers, especially when it came to foreigners. He remembered Ichiro’s banishment from the family for marrying Kumari.

But unable to find a satisfactory answer as to why, he reached across the table. “Remember, you don’t have to accept," and took Hannah’s hand. “It’s your call.”

Hannah sighed and stared down at their hands. “We’ll see."

That was good enough for Satoru. The Six Eyes wielder went back to sipping his latte then looked over, staring out through the glass window. His best friend stood on the sidewalk, waving candidly at him, same long jet-black hair, black shirt, black sweatpants...

Wait, what now?

Satoru squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head, opening them back up to see an empty street.

Just his mind playing dirty tricks again.

“Everything alright?” Hannah’s eyes were slightly tainted with worry.

“I’m fine,” Satoru replied, offering her a curt smile, running his thumb over her knuckles.

It was all in his head. Nothing more.

Yup, he was perfectly fine.

Chapter Contents

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jujutsu gojo #jjk #呪術廻戦 #jjk fanfic #gojo x oc #satoru x oc #gojo satoru #geto suguru #satoru gojo #japan #gojo takes a wife #Hirosaki Castle

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