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nanamineedstherapy · 11 days ago

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Third Wheeling Your Own Marriage

F!Non-Sorceress CEO Reader X Gojo Satoru X Nanami Kento

Summary: You should be overjoyed that Gojo Satoru & Nanami Kento are your husbands. But you feel your skin crawl as you become the third wheel in your own marriage.

Trigger Warnings: Contains Spoilers: Toxic Husbands Trying Their Best (Poorly), Pregnancy cravings but make it a battle, Unhinged Humor & Serious Angst, Discussions of past trauma (non-explicit but emotional), Over-the-top jealousy, Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands, Swearing & chaotic humour, Emotional whiplash, Heavy Angst Sprinkled with Crack Humor, Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands, Unreliable Narrators and Moral Grey Zones.

A/N: To, Farhan, My IRL Haibara, who lived life to the fullest although chaotically, and I hope this chapter brings at least a little bit of that energy to you. Welcome to another chapter of pure chaos! Don’t forget to hydrate while reading about everyone’s emotional dehydration. Also, snacks are important. That’s all I’ll say for now—enjoy the mess, and don’t forget to drop a comment if this makes you want to lasso someone IRL.

Chapter 11 (alt ending 2.2) - Snakes & Mirrors (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 12 (alt ending 2.3) - Not Heroes

Haibara turned, throwing an arm over Megumi’s shoulder like they were at a frat party instead of a standoff. “Look, man. The only person I ever knew from your Jujutsu world was his mom. Whatever happened before? Don’t remember, don’t care. I’m good where I am. I was fucking MI6, bro. Do you know how cool that is? And now I’m semi-retired and work with my ‘only’ best friends. Life couldn’t be better. So maybe stop barking up the wrong tree and go, I don’t know, ‘synergize deliverables’ or whatever it is you corporate sellouts do.”

Megumi smirked at the men.

The courtyard, still buzzing with curious employees pretending not to eavesdrop, was momentarily stunned into pin-drop silence.

Nanami’s face fell.

Gojo, sensing Nanami’s sinking, saw red and stepped in. “How can you say that? Do you even know what happened after we thought you died?”

His voice lowered just enough for the men to hear. “After your death, my best friend—the guy you looked up to—sank deeper into his depression. And turned into a mass murderer, even removing his own parents. Nanami lost all hope after you because you were the only one of us he had actively considered his best friend at the time. He disappeared for years to work a mundane corporate job. None of us were ever the same. Not me. Not Shoko. No one. Then my best friend decided that genocide was his life's ambition. I had to stop him six months ago; put an end to it!” His voice cracked at the edges, exposing the weight he carried while carefully avoiding articulating ‘killed’ aloud. “That led us here where I have to go through you two—who, by the way, I have never seen be active in her life.”

Megumi’s teeth clenched audibly. “How is any of that his fault when he doesn’t even remember?”

“Yeah, what he said,” Haibara quipped, completely unbothered, like they were debating sports scores instead of a massacre.

Gojo’s hand twitched, but Nanami placed a steady grip on his shoulder. “Satoru, stop,” he said, his voice firm. “It’s not his fault.”

Haibara sighed like this was a lecture he’d heard one too many times. “Look, from what his mom—Toji’s wife, whom you deleted, by the way—told me, sorcerers die thankless deaths. The Jujutsu society? Already broken. What happened would’ve happened whether I was there or not. And honestly? I wasn’t exactly eager to die with my—back then, weak-ass—technique at sixteen.”

The crowd of employees, still loitering and pretending to check their phones, exchanged wide-eyed glances. The whispered commentary started.

“Wait, sorcerers? Is this, like, a D&D thing?”

“More like an anime plotline written on acid.”

“Also, Toji? Wasn’t he the dude from that Netflix documentary about buff street food chefs?”

“What does he mean by deleted?”

Before Gojo could retort, the conference room door swung open.

“Hai!” your voice rang out, snapping heads to you. “What’s taking so long? I’m hungry! If you don’t bring the food right now, I’ll eat you! And everyone else, please take your breaks in the cafeteria!”

All your employees scrambled away like they were in a fire drill. One brave soul muttered, “Damn! Mom’s big mad!” as he passed by Gojo, who shot him a glare that could freeze lava. The guy quickly backtracked, stammering, “We only call her ‘Mom’ behind her back because, you know, ‘she protek and attck’ not because of the pregnancy or to make fun of her!” Even made a poor attempt at a joke. “We didn’t even know she was pregananant before today.”

But it was too late; he bolted when Nanami joined in on the glaring, and the two of them looked like they were ready to form a task force against insubordination.

Haibara’s grin turned smug as he turned away from the men. “Sorry, boys. We’ll debate this another day. By ‘another day,’ I mean never—because I don’t care. Your girl’s calling me.” He winked, specifically at Nanami, like he had a personal vendetta. But it was just that, his eyes genuinely reflected, that he didn’t remember or cared to know anything.

“Don’t,” Gojo stopped Nanami before he could lunge at Haibara and get them arrested again; you’d be pissed.

Haibara whistled heartily as he walked away, posture oozing mockery.

Megumi stayed behind, his glare boring into the two men.

Nanami sighed, reaching into his pocket. “We’ll leave. But you need to see this.”

He showed Megumi your latest medical report on his phone—undernutrition flagged in bold red.

Megumi’s frown deepened as he read it without taking his hands out of his pocket.

“She needs to eat homemade food,” Nanami pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Her pregnancy isn’t uncomplicated. If she doesn’t start taking care of herself—if we don’t—she could die with them.”

The words landed like a bomb.

Megumi’s jaw was tight, his shoulders tense. “Go.”

Haibara returned to your office with an extra bag of food, setting it down on your desk. “Healthy and edible. Barely.”

Megumi followed shortly after, ensuring the men were escorted off the premises.

You reached for the bag, but Megumi snatched it away, replacing it with the one Nanami had brought, without telling you where it came from.

You blinked at him, confused. “What are you—”

“Eat,” he said simply, taking a deliberate bite of Nanami’s food before handing it back to you.

Your confusion deepened, but you didn’t press further. Instead, you began eating, your focus shifting back to the reports on your screen.

Haibara raised an eyebrow at Megumi, who responded with a slight nod. A silent agreement passed between them: We’ll talk later.

As you worked, your CHRO and CFO glanced up from their own meals.

“What happened out there?” Your CHRO asked, her curiosity barely concealed.

“Nothing worth remembering,” Haibara replied with a grin, leaning back in his chair as if he hadn’t just navigated a minefield.

The three of you ate in companionable silence, the hum of the office returning to its standard rhythm. Yet the tension in the air lingered like a quiet storm waiting to break.

---

Sometime later, Megumi walked to the break room under the pretence of “taking a work conference.” He sat down at the corner table, resting his elbows on the surface. The bold red text on the report Nanami had shown him burned into his memory: "Undernutrition: High-Risk Pregnancy."

Haibara was already leaning against the counter, his typical flippant demeanour replaced by an uncharacteristic seriousness. His arms were crossed, and his brows were knitted tightly together as he listened to Megumi.

“This is bad,” Megumi muttered after relaying the information. His fingers tapped the edge of the table rhythmically, a rare sign of his frustration. “She’s barely eating. She takes four bites and then gets distracted by work again. Why didn’t anyone notice this sooner?”

Haibara snorted softly, though there was no humour in it. “She’s good at hiding things. Always has been.”

Megumi’s glare flicked up to meet Haibara’s gaze. “Hiding it doesn’t mean it’s okay. You didn’t see the report. If she keeps this up…”

“I understand,” Haibara cut in, his tone sharper than normal. “You think I don’t know? I’ve been trying to get her to slow down and take care of herself, but you know how she is.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “Stubborn.”

“Relentless,” Haibara corrected. “It’s like she thinks if she stops moving, everything will fall apart.”

“It will,” Megumi shot back. “If she doesn’t start taking care of herself, she’s going to fall apart. And then what? What will we do? What will I tell Mom?”

Haibara sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Look, we’re on the same side here. I’ve been keeping an eye on her, trying to make sure she’s eating something—anything. But she’s slippery. You’ve seen her dodge Gojo and Nanami’s overbearing crap like it’s a sport.”

Megumi’s lips pressed into a thin line. “That’s not enough.”

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “So what do you want to do about it? Force-feed her? Chain her to a chair in the cafeteria?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said coldly, his tone leaving no room for doubt.

Haibara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Okay, easy there, villain arc. We’re trying to help her, not make her hate us. You’re already on thin ice with all the crap you said to her at the airport. I swear, if I had been there, I would have beaten the crap out of you right then and there.”

Megumi’s expression didn’t soften. “I know it was pathetic of me, but if she knew what’s in this report, she’d hate us for keeping it from her.”

Haibara straightened, his posture tense. “You think she doesn’t know? She’s not stupid, Megumi. She knows something’s wrong. She just... doesn’t want to deal with it.”

Megumi’s fists clenched on the table. “That’s not good enough. She’s carrying twins, Haibara. Not just any twins—Special Grade Sorcerer twins. Her stomach glows like a fucking lighthouse for anyone who can sense cursed energy. I really don’t understand how those losers didn’t see it. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is for someone in her condition?”

Haibara’s gaze dropped, and for a moment, he looked almost defeated. “I see it. Believe me, I want to strangle them just as much as you do.”

The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Finally, Haibara spoke, his voice quieter. “So, what’s the plan, genius? You want to tell her? Confront her with the report and hope she doesn’t blow up?”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “No. Not yet. She’s under enough stress already.”

“Then what?” Haibara pressed.

Megumi leaned back, his gaze distant but calculating. “We work around her. We make sure she eats without making it obvious. We take shifts if we have to.”

Haibara’s lips quirked into a faint, bitter smile. “So we’re babysitting her now?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Megumi said again, his voice resolute.

Haibara pushed off the counter, his customary swagger creeping back into his step. “Alright, boss. Let’s see if your plan works. But if she catches on and decides to kill us, I’m blaming you.”

Megumi sighed. “I’ll take the blame.”

---

On the other side of HQ, your employees were scattered—some perched on tables, others standing, dramatically reenacting what seemed to be the courtyard scene of an unwritten soap opera. The walls were plastered with hastily scribbled whiteboard notes, arrows connecting phrases like ‘pregnancy bombshell,’ ‘Nanami: protective husband arc,’ and ‘Haibara supremacy confirmed.’ Someone had added ‘K-drama-level tension’ in glittery pink marker.

“‘You’re trespassing.’ Like, bro, chill. They brought soup, not nukes.”

“But nooo, gotta keep the ‘I’m colder than a polar bear’s ass’ persona alive.”

“‘For our fucking wife,’ he says. Man’s out here declaring ownership like it’s the 1800s. Meanwhile, Megumi’s over here like, ‘Perish.’ This is a Shakespearean tragedy-level mess.”

“‘Our wife,’ but she’s out there about to eat Haibara like a feral cat. Priorities, Gojo!”

“But can we talk about how Gojo’s forehead got incinerated in real-time? Man didn’t deserve that, but also... he kinda did.”

“Gojo really thought he could charm his way through that? Bro, you’re not the main character here. Megumi said, ‘CEO of Don’t Try Me Solutions,’ and Haibara hit Nanami with, ‘MI6, bitch.’”

“‘She could die,’ I felt that in my soul. Like, are we not just employees anymore? Are we side characters in a live-action K-drama?”

“Guys, guys. The real question is: why are y’all simping for the most emotionally unavailable men in the building? Like, Gojo? Trauma core. Haibara? Certified menace. Nanami? Daddy issues on legs.”

“But why did she threaten to eat Haibara? Like, girl, we get it. You’re feral, but maybe chill?”

“And then Haibara was like, ‘Your girl’s calling me,’ and walked off like he didn’t just commit emotional manslaughter. Low-key? King behaviour.”

“Bro, Gojo’s whole soul left his body. He was standing there like a kicked puppy, holding soup like it was an olive branch in the Hunger Games.”

Someone playing Nanami, on his knees, clutched his chest like he was in a Bollywood tragedy. “‘She could die.’” He fake-sobbed, looking up at the stand-in for Megumi.

“Did Nanami really say, ‘die with them’? Like, bro, that’s not just a red flag—that’s the entire communist manifesto of toxic relationships.”

“Okay, but can we appreciate Megumi’s vibes? The smirk, the glare, the whole ‘don’t breathe in my direction’ energy? Sir, I’d like to subscribe to your newsletter.”

“Okay, but Haibara! Man walked in like he was carrying state secrets and left with a biryani bag. How does he do that? He’s not even trying, and he’s the main character.”

“That wink at Nanami? I felt that in my ovaries. And I don’t even like men.”

“If Haibara needs someone to help carry his biryani, I’m free.”

“You’d carry his biryani straight to HR, wouldn’t you?”

“And Megumi’s smirk? Man could power a nuclear reactor with that. Gojo’s charm didn’t stand a chance.”

“Bro, Gojo’s banned from everything. I heard he tried to bribe the janitor for Megumi’s lunch schedule.”

“Let’s not pretend we’re any better. Half of you would keel over if Gojo so much as breathed in your direction.” She shot a pointed look at one woman, who flipped her off.

“Let’s circle back to Megumi. That glare? Sir, therapy is three doors down.”

“Am I the only one worried about the undernutrition part? Like, yes, drama is fun, but maybe we should call a doctor? No? Cool, just me then.”

The employees all froze when the door creaked open.

It was Megumi, leaning against the frame, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you all have jobs?”

“We are working on the ‘villain energy game.’”

Megumi sighed, closed the door, and walked back to your office.

---

The day was running smoothly—or as smoothly as it ever could—until Sam burst into your office, clutching his tablet as if it might explode. His face was pale, his expected unhinged confidence replaced by something unsettling: genuine concern.

“You need to see this,” he said, his voice subdued.

You took the tablet, your eyes scanning the screen.

#TwoHolesForAReason was back with a vengeance, accompanied by a fresh wave of vile doctored images. One particularly egregious post showed a manipulated photo of you, dishevelled and exhausted, with the caption:

"When being married to two terrorists ruins your beauty and career, but at least you're stuffed full of dicks."

You gritted your teeth as you scrolled through hundreds—no, thousands—of similar posts. Some were disgustingly graphic, while others hid their malice behind mock sympathy. All aimed to tear you down.

Sam hovered nervously. “It’s... everywhere. Even the investors are panicking.”

You stared at the screen for a long moment, fury building under your skin. Then a humourless laugh escaped your lips, so cold it made Sam flinch.

“Idiots,” you muttered, tossing the tablet onto your desk as if it had personally offended you.

Haibara walked in, unbothered. “What’s the hubbub?”

Sam pointed to the tablet. Haibara took one look and grunted. “Wow. Creative. Didn’t know middle schoolers were running smear campaigns these days.”

Megumi leaned against your desk, his expression darkening as he read over Sam’s shoulder. “I’ll find out who’s behind it.”

“Doesn’t matter,” you said, rising to your feet. “We’re shutting it down.”

---

It didn’t take long for the vultures to circle.

The boardroom buzzed with tension as the executives filed in, their smugness as palpable as the overpriced cologne clinging to the air. Papers shuffled, pens clicked, and glances exchanged like unspoken conspiracies.

One of them, an older man with a shiny bald head that reflected the fluorescent lights like a spotlight, leaned forward with the faux gravity of someone who thought himself important. “Mrs.—”

“Allow me to clarify,” you interrupted smoothly, not bothering to mask your irritation. “I am nobody’s wife in this room. Here, I am your Founder and CEO. Let’s stick to relevant titles.”

His face reddened, but he cleared his throat and tried again. “Of course, my apologies. We’ve called this emergency meeting to discuss the company’s image under your leadership.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your belly in a deliberate show of calm control. “My leadership built this company. What’s the issue?”

A younger man chimed in, his tone overly conciliatory. “The issue is the... unfavourable attention your personal life has drawn recently. Investors are concerned about the long-term impact on the company’s reputation.”

Your eyebrow arched. “Unfavorable attention? You’re referring to the slander and misinformation I am currently addressing while you waste my time with redundant meetings?”

The younger man faltered, but a woman at the far end of the table, her poorly woven hair perched precariously on her head, jumped in. “With all due respect, this goes beyond a few rumours. Your personal matters have bled into the company’s operations. Your... husbands storming this very building caused injuries and property damage. The media frenzy hasn’t stopped since. And now, you’ve returned suddenly, pregnant and still tied to a highly publicized poly marriage.”

Her words hung in the air, each one a carefully aimed barb.

“Me being pregnant is an issue; why?” you asked, icy.

“We’re simply suggesting,” the bald man interjected, “that for the good of the company, you consider stepping down—temporarily, of course—until this all blows over.”

The room fell silent.

You tilted your head slightly and smiled predatorily—the kind that made grown men sweat. “Step down? Because of a trending hashtag?”

“It’s not just the hashtag,” another board member piped up, emboldened by the tension. “There’s the matter of your husbands’ actions, the disruption to our HQ, and the risk of further incidents. The optics alone—”

You silenced him, your voice low and measured. “The optics? Let me be clear: I built this company. Every game, every cross-platform integration, and every dollar in your quarterly bonuses exists because of me. I negotiated every deal, spearheaded every innovation, and solved every crisis. I even paid for the damages out of my own pocket. And now, because of a handful of manipulated images and an incident I had no part in—except actively fighting them off—you think you can compel me to step down?”

You limited your words to corporate lingo; otherwise, you’d outright sound like Toji.

The bald man tried to speak, but you held up a hand.

“Where were you when the building was being terrorized? Where were all of you? Because I did not receive a single call, nor did my teams. Neither did the injured.”

The room was frozen.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” you said, your tone steely. “You’re going to sit down, shut up, and let me clean up this mess. If anyone in this room so much as whispers the words ‘step down’ again, I will personally ensure they never work in any tech or gaming company on the planet. I still hold the majority of shares, which means I hold all the cards. Do not test me.”

“Understood?”

They nodded reluctantly, the smugness drained from their faces.

“Good.” Gripping the table, you stood, smoothing your coat and fixing them with a final, icy stare. “Meeting adjourned.”

As the boardroom emptied, whispers erupted among your employees, many of whom had been hovering nearby.

“She just ended their entire careers in one sentence.”

“Did you see the bald guy’s face? He looked like he was about to cry.”

One bolder employee muttered, “And they think she’s the problem? Meanwhile, her husbands are walking red flags with a combined body count.”

Another chimed in, “Yeah, but they’re hot red flags. That’s the worst kind.”

“Greg, please stop simping for terrorists!”

As you strode back to your office, your vision blurred. The edges of the hallway swam, and the coppery taste of blood filled your mouth. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay upright.

Inside your office, your employees were gathered, their faces filled with worry.

“Crisis averted,” you said. “Everyone, get back to work, please.”

They hesitated but scattered, murmuring among themselves.

Dove lingered, her expression uncertain. “Boss, maybe you should rest—”

“Dove,” you said, shooing her off. “Go.”

Once everyone left, Megumi was already opening an electrolyte drink and handing it to you, leaning casually against your desk.

“So... who’s first on the hit list? Baldy with the overcompensating cologne or Wigged Sharon?” Haibara inquired.

You smirked, taking a sip. “All of them.”

Megumi held up a tablet. “I pulled the IP addresses of the accounts spreading the worst posts. They’re mostly bot farms, but a few are traceable. Some even belong to your investors.”

“Perfect.” You set the glass down. “Dismantle them. Quietly.”

Megumi was already calling someone.

Haibara grinned, shaking his head. “You’re like Maggie, but without the illegal underground moonshine ring.”

“Keep flattering me,” you said dryly, “and I might even promote you to court jester.”

Haibara laughed. “Haven’t played it in years; wanna play sometime?”

“Me neither, so definitely.” You agreed easily.

Megumi hummed in agreement as well before you both had to ask.

“So, what’s the plan? Burn their careers to the ground, or are you playing the long game?” Haibara smirked.

“Both,” you replied, chugging the energy drink. “First, we stabilize the optics. Then we eliminate the dead weight.”

Megumi glanced up from his laptop. “I can draft the shareholder communication.”

"Yes, thank you, Megs,” you said. “Please make it clear that I’m still in control. Frame the board’s behaviour as a distraction from the company’s goals. If they want to play games, we’ll show them how it’s done.”

Haibara chuckled. “Terrifying.”

“One does not survive corporate life without eliciting fear. Which is what Ken should have...”

You grimaced and cut yourself off, feeling a wave of nausea wash over you. The sensation was becoming all too familiar, a reminder of the body horror that accompanied your pregnancy. You could almost feel the weight of it—the way it twisted and turned inside you—a constant reminder of their fathers.

Your friends changed the topic, sensing your discomfort, but the unease lingered in the back of your mind.

---

A few blocks down in a rooftop restaurant, Nanami and Gojo stood, watching your building. Gojo’s six eyes scanned the floors, his hands fidgeting as he tracked your movements.

“She’s not okay,” Gojo muttered, his voice tight.

Nanami’s jaw gritted.

“She’s going to collapse if she keeps this up,” Gojo continued.

“Have patience,” Nanami said calmly.

Gojo’s frustration bubbled over. “How can you just do nothing?”

Nanami folded his arm. “Leave it to Megumi. Haibara might not remember me, but I still know how to get him riled up to work in our favour. He was never a strategist.”

Gojo’s shoulders slumped, expectant. “You ready to betray him?”

“He doesn’t know us anymore; he said so himself.”

---

The glow of Megumi’s laptop screen painted faint, shifting shadows across the room. He sat on the couch, legs crossed, his posture tense despite the rhythmic click of his fingers against the keys. His focus, at least outwardly, was on your grand plan—the one he’d quietly poured himself into without needing to ask or complain.

You were on the adjacent couch, your gaming laptop’s vivid hues casting a surreal glow over your features. Your attention was divided, bouncing between emails, analytics, and some half-finished documents. But your fingers had slowed. Megumi glanced up just as your head tilted back, eyes fluttering shut.

In minutes, you were out.

He returned to his work—or tried to—until something moved beneath your shirt.

Megumi froze, his stomach twisting in an unfamiliar way. A tiny hand pressed against the fabric, followed by a foot, then the vague outline of a face. His chest tightened.

“What the…” The words barely escaped his lips.

The twins shifted again, their tiny movements both mesmerising and unsettling. He flinched when the door creaked open. Haibara strolled in, his smirk in place, a bag of snacks dangling from one hand.

Megumi raised a finger to his lips, shushing him sharply.

Haibara stopped mid-step, his brows knitting together as he followed Megumi’s gaze to you, sprawled out and oblivious, one hand draped protectively over your belly. His smirk faltered.

“What’s happening?” Haibara whispered, crouching beside Megumi.

“Look,” Megumi muttered, gesturing toward your midsection.

Haibara leaned in, his expression shifting from curiosity to outright disbelief as the twins moved again. “What the hell are they doing? Trying to dig their way out?”

Megumi’s glare was immediate. “Don’t touch her.”

“Relax.” Haibara held his hands up defensively, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “You’re acting like they’re going to burst out and take over your business. Just let me see... what it feels like?”

“It feels like you should leave it alone.”

Ignoring the warning, Haibara reached out, only to jerk back when the twins kicked again. “Nope. Nope. I’m good.” He pointed accusingly at your stomach, his characteristic bravado cracking. “That’s not normal.”

“You think hexes are normal?” Megumi shot back, though his tone lacked its regular edge. His attention drifted back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. “Although she’s not scared.”

Haibara let out a dry laugh, leaning against the armrest. “Because she’s her. Chaos incarnate. She’d stare down a volcano and bet it wouldn’t erupt just to prove a point.”

Megumi’s lips twitched, but he said nothing.

The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the faint hum of the heater and your steady breathing. Haibara shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting between you and Megumi.

“Think they’ll inherit her attitude?” He asked finally, his voice lighter than his expression.

Megumi didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was quieter. “Probably. Not a bad thing.”

Haibara’s gaze lingered on you, a shadow of something unreadable crossing his face. “Not bad, huh?” His words were light, but his tone carried a weight that Megumi didn’t address.

Before the silence could stretch, you stirred, a soft groan slipping past your lips. Both men froze.

Your eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing,” they said in unison, too quickly, too high-pitched.

You frowned but were too tired to argue. With a small yawn, you shifted, your hand resting over your belly again. “Weirdos,” you muttered before slipping back into unconsciousness.

Haibara let out a quiet breath, his shoulders relaxing. He glanced at Megumi, who was staring at you with an expression he quickly masked.

“She called you a weirdo,” Haibara teased, his grin returning.

“She called us weirdos,” Megumi corrected, his tone clipped.

“Yeah, but she meant you more.” Haibara leaned back, smug.

Megumi ignored him, his attention returning to your belly. The twins moved again, and despite everything—despite the chaos you brought, the complications you were, and the way you never saw him the way he sometimes wished you would—he couldn’t bring himself to care.

Haibara leaned in slightly, his voice lower now. “You think she knows how lucky they are? How lucky we are?”

Megumi’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. Haibara didn’t press; his eyes stayed on you, his smirk replaced by something thoughtful.

“You ever think about how she does it?” he asked, his voice unusually quiet.

Megumi’s brow furrowed. “Does what?”

“Handles all this.” Haibara gestured vaguely toward your sleeping form. “The mess. The plans. The… future.” He hesitated before adding, “Them.”

“She doesn’t think about it like that,” Megumi replied, his tone clipped. “She just... does it.”

Haibara huffed a quiet laugh. “Yeah. That’s her, alright. Always diving in headfirst.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on your hand resting over your belly, the way your fingers twitched slightly in your sleep, as if even in unconsciousness, you were protecting them.

Haibara tilted his head, studying Megumi. “You ever wonder if she regrets it?”

Megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing. “Why would she?”

Haibara shrugged, though his expression betrayed the casual gesture. “I don’t know. She’s got this whole... empire thing going on. Then there are the twins.” He nodded toward your belly.

Megumi’s jaw tightened. “She regrets the people but not the twins.”

“You sound sure,” Haibara said, leaning back. “But maybe you’re just saying that because you want to believe it.”

“Drop it,” Megumi muttered, his tone sharper than he intended.

Haibara raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Just making conversation.”

The silence returned, heavier this time. Haibara’s gaze flickered back to you, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“She’s still the same, though,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now. “Same fire. Same recklessness. Same way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room when she looks at you. Like she actually sees you.”

Megumi’s hands clenched into fists. “What’s your point?”

Haibara hesitated, his eyes meeting Megumi’s. For a moment, there was something raw in his expression, something unguarded. But then he smirked, the mask slipping back into place.

“No point,” he said, his tone light again. “Just... nostalgia from before I left for London, I guess.”

Megumi didn’t respond. His gaze drifted back to you, his expression unreadable.

Haibara chuckled quietly, though there was no humor in it. “You know, it’s funny. Back then, I thought…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “Never mind. Doesn’t matter now.”

Megumi’s eyes narrowed. “Thought what?”

Haibara shrugged, popping a chip into his mouth. “Nothing important.”

“Haibara,” Megumi said warningly.

Haibara sighed, his smirk faltering again. “I thought maybe if things had been different, if I hadn’t left before…” He paused, his eyes flickering to your sleeping form. “But they weren’t. And they aren’t. So.”

Megumi’s chest tightened. He wanted to snap at Haibara, to tell him to shut up, to stop saying things that didn’t need to be said. But he didn’t, because part of him understood.

“Doesn’t matter,” Haibara repeated, more to himself than to Megumi. “She’s back. That’s what counts, right?”

Megumi looked at him, his expression hard. “Yeah. That’s what counts.”

Haibara nodded, though his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer. Then he stood, stretching exaggeratedly. “Well, I’ll bring the car around; it’s getting late. Enjoy your vigil, Fushiguro.”

Megumi watched him go, his footsteps echoing softly in the hallway.

He turned back to you, his gaze softening despite himself. The twins moved again, and this time, he didn’t flinch.

“You’re not scared,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “So I won’t be either.”

You shifted slightly in your sleep, your hand tightening over your belly. Megumi leaned back, resting his head against the couch, his eyes staring into space.

After a bit, he got up, packed your laptops and his, and called his secretary to arrange for a flat in your building by the end of the week. Then he gently woke you and walked you to Haibara’s car, where he was waiting.

---

Once delivering you to ‘home/hell,’ Haibara turned to you with an uncharacteristic seriousness. “You sure you don’t want me to stick around? I can sleep on the couch. Or the roof. I’m versatile.”

Megumi, still scrolling through his phone in the backseat, didn’t bother looking up. “He snores. It’s like sharing a house with a sentient chainsaw.”

“At least I don’t sleep with my eyes half open like some Silent Hill reject,” Haibara shot back.

“That was one time,” Megumi muttered, unamused.

Despite the weight in your chest, a faint chuckle escaped. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for today.”

Haibara gave you a look that screamed, I don’t believe you, but okay. “Call if you need anything. And I mean anything. You want a yacht? I’ll steal one.”

You chuckled faintly. “Thanks, but I can afford yachts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Rich people and their yachts. Megumi, let’s buy a submarine instead. Classier.”

Megumi finally glanced up. “Or we could stay on land like sane people.”

They walked you to the door, bickering the entire way.

Before you stepped inside, Megumi reached out and ruffled your hair. “I’ve increased security around here and at the office. If you faint, I’m installing 24/7 surveillance in your home. Don’t test me. Eat properly.”

You swatted his hand away, but his words lingered.

Bidding them goodbye, you shut the door and stood in the silence.

Too much silence.

Again.

The penthouse was eerily still, as if the air itself had grown heavy with awkward tension.

You headed straight for the old bedroom, not sparing the men a glance. Gojo and Nanami sat in the living room, their postures stiff, like overgrown schoolboys waiting for detention.

Gojo broke the silence, his voice cracking. “Baby, please—”

You walked past him without acknowledgement, your steps echoing in the quiet.

Nanami stood and followed, his voice low. “Let me help you carry—”

The door clicked shut behind you before he could finish.

The bedroom smelled faintly of them, and the sight of the bed you used to share turned your stomach. Moving methodically, you grabbed clothes, toiletries, and anything else you needed, avoiding any unnecessary glances in the room.

Opening a drawer, your hand froze when your eyes fell on a small envelope with your name, tucked into the corner.

An ultrasound.

Your heart sank. They’d heard the sound of your babies’ heartbeats without you.

Your hands trembled as you picked it up, the weight of it heavier than it should have been. You shoved it into your pocket, ignoring the pang in your chest.

You opened the door and walked past them again, carrying your things to the guest room.

The scalding shower that followed did little to help. The water seared your skin, but it couldn’t burn away the weight pressing down on your chest. Fresh clothes felt like armour, and the guest bed—while foreign—was at least yours.

---

Sometime later, the knock came like a countdown to something catastrophic. You had been staring at the spare living room TV, wondering how you’d drag it to your room. Everything else around you was a blur through the fog of your thoughts. The robe you wore felt too heavy against your skin, every fibre brushing against you like sandpaper.

Behind you, Gojo and Nanami were arguing in hushed tones, their voices tense. It was always tense now. You didn’t bother listening; they rarely said anything worth hearing anymore. But when the knock came, they stopped mid-sentence.

“Don’t answer that,” Gojo said, his Infinity thrumming faintly, a nervous hum that matched the way his hands twitched at his sides. Nanami’s face was unreadable, but his stance had shifted, his weight balanced on the balls of his feet—ready.

You ignored them both, padding to the door like a sleepwalker. When you opened it, the officers standing there didn’t look surprised to see you, dishevelled and wan. The lead officer’s eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment.

“Ma’am, we’re here to take Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento into custody,” he said, his tone professional. “They’re being re-arrested on charges related to the incident at your company headquarters.”

You blinked, confused. "I... I don’t understand. At night?”

“We’ve received new orders,” he replied. His gaze shifted past you, landing on the two men who had moved to flank you, their postures screaming defiance. “Please step aside.”

Gojo’s laugh was sharp and humourless. “You’ve got to be kidding. She’s pregnant. High-risk, no less. You can’t just drag us off.”

Nanami’s voice was quieter but no less intense. “She needs us. Stress could harm her and the babies.”

Who the fuck told them it was high risk? Were they lying to get out of jail? On your account?

Just when you thought they couldn’t get worse!!!

You jerked involuntarily, your hand brushing over your stomach. The movement wasn’t lost on the officers, who exchanged uneasy glances. But the lead officer didn’t waver.

“We’re not here to debate,” he said firmly, gesturing for his team to move in.

The cuffs came out, and Gojo’s Infinity flared instinctively, a shimmering barrier that held them at bay, but they didn’t seem to notice yet.

“Gojo, stop,” you murmured, your voice soft but laced with something that made him falter.

You used his last name. You had never even used it when you guys first met.

And then the cramp hit. Sharp, twisting pain that stole your breath and buckled your knees. You gasped, clutching your stomach, your legs giving out beneath you.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice cracked as he caught you. “Shit, shit, shit. Breathe. Just breathe.”

Nanami was at your other side, his steady hands shaking as they pressed against your back. “What’s wrong?” he asked you, eyes broken and scared.

The cops hesitated, torn between duty and the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Cramp…. Hurts…” You breathed out clutching Nanami’s shirt while the pain brought tears to your eyes.

“Thank god, I’m not a woman and can’t get pregnant even if the people on the internet try every day.”

All eyes turned to the doorway, where Higuruma Hiromi stood, his briefcase in hand and his expression smug.

“Who the hell are you?” One of the officers demanded.

“Most desired lawyer in the country and your accused's legal counsel,” Higuruma replied coolly, stepping inside.

He handed over a stack of documents. “This is a court order preventing their arrest until after the completion of her pregnancy. Given her medical condition, their presence is deemed essential for her well-being. Any undue stress could endanger her and the unborn children. Do you really want that liability on your hands?” He declared, back to business.

Your husbands looked at each other, thinking that Ijichi must have tattled to Yaga, who would’ve created a backup plan.

The lead officer’s jaw tensed, but he took the documents and scanned them. After a long moment, he sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Fine. But they can’t leave the country, and we’ll be monitoring them closely.”

“Of course,” Higuruma replied smoothly, his tone as dry as the Sahara.

Then the officer turned to you, his demeanour shifting from stern professionalism to something almost... reverent. “Ma’am,” he said, pulling out a card from his breast pocket with the air of someone bestowing a sacred relic. “Here’s my card. Please feel free to contact me directly if you need anything.”

You blinked, thrown by the sudden change in tone. The officer’s gaze flicked to your face, then to your stomach, then back to your face. His ears were a little too pink for someone allegedly unflappable.

Before you could react, Gojo snatched the card mid-air, his grin venomous. “Thank you, Officer Friendly, but I think we’ve got this handled. I’ll call if we need anything.”

The officer’s expression hardened, his jaw flexing as he snatched the card right back with the precision of someone who definitely practiced baton drills too much. He leaned slightly closer to you, his voice lowering into something almost conspiratorial. “I’d really rather not have terrorists calling me. But you, ma’am—please call anytime.”

Nanami’s grip on your arm tightened imperceptibly, his gaze icy, clipping the space between you and the officer like an invisible barrier. “I believe we’re done here,” he said evenly, his tone calm but carrying enough weight to make the officer hesitate.

The officer held his ground, though his resolve wavered slightly under Nanami’s unrelenting glare. Finally, he handed you the card with a small bow that was entirely unnecessary but also entirely intentional.

Gojo’s laugh was a sharp bark devoid of humour. “Wow. Bold move. Should I call HR on you for harassment, or do we settle this with a good old-fashioned duel?”

“HR?” the officer asked, his lips twitching upward. “What’s that like for someone suspended indefinitely?”

Higuruma, standing off to the side, pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “idiots.”

You sighed, pocketing the card without comment, your patience wearing thin. “Thank you, officer!” You smiled, your tone happier than you intended but justified given the circus playing out around you while your stomach tried to stab itself metaphorically.

The officer gave you one last lingering look before gesturing for his team to follow him out. As they filed out, Gojo muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Bet he practices handing out business cards in the mirror.”

The officer stopped in his tracks, turning back just enough to say, “And I bet you practice losing everything you’ve ever loved. Looks like it’s paying off.”

The door slammed shut before Gojo could respond, leaving a stunned silence in his wake.

Nanami cleared his throat, his expression blank but his ears noticeably red. “Well. That was... unprofessional.”

Gojo turned to you and Nanami, his eyes wide with exaggerated indignation. “Are you seeing this? Are we seeing this? Did he just flirt with my wife in front of me while I’m literally being arrested?!”

You raised an eyebrow, deadpan and stared at Higuruma, refusing to make eye contact with your husbands.

Gojo internally threw his hands up, looking at Nanami for backup. “Say something!”

Nanami’s expression was neutral, but his tone was pointed. “Perhaps he just appreciates the way she carries herself. Unlike others who spend their time making scenes.”

“Scenes?!” Gojo gasped. “This isn’t a scene! This is self-defence! That guy was ready to propose on the spot!”

“Can’t blame him,” Higuruma added, smirking as he snapped his briefcase shut. “She is a trillionaire CEO. Meanwhile, you two are, what? Notorious ex-terrorists with zero tact?”

Nanami looked personally offended, while Gojo muttered, “I regret hiring you.”

Higuruma shrugged, clearly unbothered. “You didn’t. And you’re welcome.”

You moved a hand to rest on the back of your waist, pain searing through you.

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his breath warm against your hair. “It’s okay, baby. We’re here. We’re not going anywhere.”

You let them fuss over you, their desperation palpable. But when Higuruma spoke again, his voice was low, serious.

“You really need to stop falling down so often,” he said in a dry voice, eyes flicking to you.

You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing over your stomach in a gesture that could have been maternal if not for the glint in your eyes. “Why would I, when I always have such big, strong pairs of hands ready to catch me?” You straightened, shrugging off your husbands' hands as you stood.

The silence that followed was palpable. Gojo and Nanami stayed frozen, their gazes a mix of reverence and desperation.

Was that...teasing?

Hope flickered in their eyes—the kind of hope you hadn’t seen in a long while.

Hiromi scoffed, breaking the moment.

“What? It’s not their fault they’re attached to terrorists,” you smiled.

Hiromi chuckled, his low laugh carrying a hint of approval. “True. I don’t agree with it, but getting them arrested only to bail them out? Was hilarious. And the lack of your fingerprints, DNA, or blood in any systems made forging the documents way too easy. Thanks for doing half the work.”

Gojo and Nanami stood like statues, the gears in their heads grinding to comprehend what they’d just heard.

“If you really wanna thank me, carry that to my room.” You gestured at the spare TV in the corner of the giant living room, your tone as sweet as honey and just as sticky. The doe-eyed look you threw Hiromi would’ve melted a lesser man.

Hiromi faux-sighed, trying to hide a twitch of his lips. “You’re my most demanding client,” he said, but he complied, setting his briefcase and coat down, rolling up his sleeves, and lifting the 65-inch TV easily. He followed you to your room, then held the TV against the wall while you connected wires and fiddled with the settings.

Gojo and Nanami watched, stunned into silence. Their jaws were practically on the floor at your pornographic behaviour—you’d asked Hiromi for help, not them. The sting of rejection was sharp, but the sheer audacity of the scene left them too shocked to speak.

Gojo grabbed Nanami’s arm as the latter made a move toward the hallway. “Baby will kill us!”

“She can’t,” Nanami muttered, his jaw tight as he tried to shake Gojo off.

“But she’ll never forgive us and run away again,” Gojo hissed, tightening his grip. “And that’s worse.”

Hiromi walked out moments later, then slung his coat over his shoulder and took his briefcase. He winked at the two men before walking out, which sent Gojo’s cursed energy flaring.

This time Nanami held Gojo back. “He’s more than five years older than her. Remember? She’s not into older men.”

Gojo’s eyes narrowed. “So what? She likes it when we’re jealous. A little bit of purple hasn’t killed anyone... yet—I’ll even make it micro.”

Before Gojo could finish his argument, you reappeared, dragging the long HDMI cable—from your home office PC—in one hand and your other hand resting on your belly. You walked past them without a word, towards your room to connect it to your TV with a focus that only further bruised their egos.

“Baby?” Gojo’s voice was barely a whisper, a mix of confusion and fear laced through the words.

Hiromi’s laughter echoed faintly from the elevator as the doors slid shut, leaving your husbands to stew in their own comedic misery.

“Thank you for playing your parts so well,” you said, stopping and turning to them, your tone so light it suspiciously sounded like a serial killer.

“What are you talking about?” Nanami questioned.

You laughed; a sound so cold it made the room feel like a tomb. “Oh, come on. Did you really think I was the victim here? That I didn’t know exactly what I was doing? That I wouldn’t save my reputation and my company? That I’d just sit there and let you humiliate me like some obedient little housewife? Aww, sweet Toru and Kenny, you really don’t know me at all.”

Their silence and wide eyes were enough.

You walked into the living room and switched the TV on to a news segment replaying your earlier interview. The headline scrolled across the bottom: CEO Calls for Justice Against Corruption.

“Watch closely,” you said, stepping back.

Your face appeared on screen, addressing a virtual conference. “I am here to address the wave of misinformation, targeted harassment, and societal hypocrisy that has overshadowed the recent events surrounding my personal life and professional endeavours.”

You paused, allowing the gravity of your words to sink in. The silence commanding attention.

“For weeks, I have been the subject of a relentless smear campaign. Doctored photos, slanderous hashtags, and vile comments have spread like wildfire. I am not here to defend myself against lies. The truth speaks for itself.”

Your gaze shifted slightly as if addressing each viewer individually. “What I am here to ask is this: Why is it that the victims—particularly women—are vilified while the perpetrators are exalted?”

The room seemed to be still as your voice sharpened. “My husbands stormed this very building, injuring employees, destroying property, and disrupting the livelihoods of countless individuals. They were released within hours. Hours. Meanwhile, I—almost six months pregnant—am subjected to public humiliation and professional sabotage, even though I was the one defending my employees. I ask you, what kind of justice system allows this?”

You leaned forward, your hands pressing against the table. “Why am I being hounded by reporters, deepfake pornographic videos, and accusations while the men responsible for this chaos roam free? Why do they continue to be idolised, their actions excused, and their faces plastered on social media as objects of desire? Why is my character, my competence, and my humanity questioned simply because I exist as a woman in a position of power?”

Your voice softened, but the tension in the air only grew. “This isn’t just about me. This is about every woman who has been blamed for the actions of others. This is about a society that continues to hold women to impossible standards while excusing men for behaviour that should be condemned. This is about a judicial system that protects the powerful and punishes the vulnerable.”

The chat feature on the News channel exploded with comments:

"She’s right. Why aren’t they being held accountable?”

"She’s pregnant and dealing with this? What the hell is wrong with you people?”

"Typical. Men screw up, women pay the price.”

"Oh, but if a man was in her place, y’all wouldn’t care. Hypocrites.”

"How about holding everyone accountable? This gender war is exhausting.”

You sat back slightly, exuding calm control even as your words pierced like a blade. “I built this company from scratch. I’ve led it to heights no one thought possible for a gaming company. And yet, here I am, fighting not just for my reputation but for my right to exist without being reduced to my relationships. To those perpetuating this harassment, I have one thing to say: You will be held accountable. Legally. Financially. Publicly.”

You placed a hand on your stomach, your voice softening yet still carrying a firm edge. “I am bringing two lives into this world, and my focus should be on their well-being, not defending myself against baseless attacks. To everyone who has contributed to this circus: consider what you are forcing me to endure and what you are creating for my children to encounter as they grow up. Reflect on the world you are shaping for the next generation.”

Another pause. The silence deliberate.

“To the judicial system, I ask: Where is the accountability for those who stormed this building and endangered innocent lives? Where is the justice for the employees injured, for the property destroyed, for the lives disrupted? And to those watching, I ask: Will you stand by and allow this hypocrisy to continue? Or will you demand better—from your media, your government, and yourselves?”

The chat continued to explode:

"She’s calling out the entire system. Respect.”

"She’s doing this while pregnant? Absolute legend.”

"Not all men, but somehow always a man.”

"She’s manipulating y’all. Open your eyes.”

"Even if she’s manipulating us, tell me this: why are we letting them off the hook?”

“If those men were ugly with would have been an episode of ‘True Detective.’”

Your gaze hardened as you delivered your final words. “This is not just my fight. This is a fight for justice and for accountability. And I will not stop until it is won.”

The stream ended, but the world did not remain silent.

News channels replayed the clip endlessly, social media platforms were flooded with debates, and public opinion was polarized.

“Going against the two terrorists, yakuza or whatever they are while being pregnant with their kids and living with them requires guts.”

"She’s a feminist icon we need but don’t deserve.”

"Accountability for everyone, not just her husbands.”

"The justice system is broken. She’s right.”

"Her poly marriage is still weird, though.”

Some called for the immediate re-arrest of Gojo and Nanami. Others accused you of deflecting blame. Gender dynamics became a flashpoint, with men and women clashing over who bore the brunt of societal judgment.

Protests were being held outside government buildings, demanding reform and accountability. Your name became a rallying cry, a symbol of resilience and defiance.

Meanwhile, government officials scrambled to address the public outcry. Arrest warrants for your husbands were quietly reissued.

You muted the broadcast, fixing them with a manic smile they’d never seen before—one that somehow felt more real than any expression they’d witnessed on you. “Now that the entire nation is watching your spiral, maybe you’ll begin to understand. Understand what it feels like to have your autonomy stripped and your every move scrutinized. When I met you two all those years ago, I was wandering alone in public. I valued privacy, anonymity, the freedom to roam without interference. But you—” your voice stabbed like a scalpel “—only cared about yourselves. You stormed my headquarters, hurt my people, and left me no choice but to retaliate by sending people aimed to kill you both.”

You picked up the house iPad. Gojo’s account was still logged in, a fitting reminder of his carefree ignorance staring back at you as if mocking the weight of what you were about to reveal.

Without a word, you typed in the hashtag that had been haunting your mentions and shoved the device toward Nanami.

His expression darkened as his eyes scanned the posts, a deep crease forming between his brows. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the iPad tightly. The feed was a grotesque mosaic of fabricated images and videos depicting you in compromising positions—some pornographic, others manipulated with strangers. The comments were even more disturbing: venomous calls for your death, demands for punishment for being “unnatural” for being married to two men, and horrific assertions that, because of your supposed sex addiction, you deserved to be violated—raped by a mob with every object possible inserted and burned alive along with your babies—their babies.

Gojo’s hand shot out, snatching the iPad before Nanami could process it all. His lips pressed into a thin, furious line as his sharp blue eyes darted across the screen, scrolling through the filth.

Nanami seized the iPad and slammed it against the TV console, the crack of shattering glass reverberating through the penthouse.

“You couldn’t even watch it for five minutes,” you said, your voice low, the calmness more hurtful than any scream. Your gaze flicked between them, icy. “And it’s the accusation I’ve tried my whole life to outrun.”

Nanami’s jaw clenched, the tendons in his neck taut. “This—this is beyond cruel. These people are monsters.”

“Monsters don’t come from nowhere,” you shot back, your voice like a whip. “They’re made. By families, by communities, by men who laugh while girls like me are turned into jokes, into targets.”

Gojo took a step toward you, hand half-raised, but you flinched instinctively, moving your hands to cover your belly. It was subtle—a fraction of a second—but enough to freeze him in place.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I’m so glad I never told you two where I came from. Maybe you would’ve joined the same mob—the same people who looked at me and deemed me unworthy of respect. A liar to laugh at when I tried to tell someone to intervene. Someone who deserved every bit of pain they inflicted.”

Nanami’s eyes softened, guilt flickering across his face, but you didn’t want his pity. You wanted him to feel it—the weight of everything they were forcing you to relive. Your family had laughed at you, called you a liar, deemed you a prostitute at six by your own mother, or simply shrugged it off, blaming your attire while ignoring the perpetrator entirely.

Soon, more people around you began to realize how your family neglected you, and that one person became part of a long list of anyone your child brain trusted.

That word, ‘whore,’ encapsulated your entire trauma and PTSD, and now they were forcing you to relive it a hundred times over. You mourned the little girl who believed justice was possible. You used to foolishly dream that one day you’d bravely stand in court, point at them, and destroy them, but now, just seeing them in passing felt like a death sentence, let alone letting the world know. The statute of limitations had passed you by like it never even existed. You had sought therapy, but nothing could break the freeze response your body triggered every time. Those were the days you built walls so high that no one could climb them.

Gojo opened his mouth, but no words came out. His wit and charm crumbled under the weight of your gaze.

“Don’t,” you warned, your tone cold. “Don’t you dare tell me it’s not true. You didn’t live it. You didn’t grow up in a house where your screams were ignored, where your pain was a punchline. You didn’t have to learn to fight with every bone in your body just to keep from breaking.”

Nanami exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair. “You should’ve told us,” he said finally, his voice quiet, almost pleading.

You shook your head. “And what would you have done? Held my hand? Told me it wasn’t my fault? That I shouldn’t let it define me like it never happened? That I am a survivor? It wouldn’t erase the nights I was left bleeding or the mornings I had to face the same people who swore they loved me while calling me a whore for being abused as a child.”

Gojo turned away, shoulders rigid, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hated this—hated being confronted with something he couldn’t joke or blast his way out of.

“You think your anger fixes this?” you snapped, your voice rising. “It doesn’t. All it does is remind me why I’ve spent my whole life holding myself together after men like you—men who break fragile things.”

Nanami’s face crumpled, his stoicism replaced with raw guilt. “We’re not them,” he whispered.

You tilted your head, your expression unreadable. “Aren’t you? My babies will grow up with this easily accessible information about their mother on the internet, no matter what kind of image I try to present to them.”

Nanami gritted his teeth, fists tightening as if he wanted to punch something until it was pulp. Gojo looked at you hopefully. “I’ll fix this,” he spoke hoarsely, his tone serious. “I swear.”

But you didn’t want promises. You didn’t want an apology. You wanted them to understand that some pain wasn’t a wound—it was a part of you, etched into your bones.

“You can’t,” you said simply. “And that’s the problem.”

Gojo’s hands trembled as he stared at the shattered screen. "You should have trusted us," he said, his voice hollow, almost accusatory.

Your laugh was jagged, a broken sound. "Trust you? To do what? Scroll through my trauma like it’s entertainment? Smash a few more gadgets? Yell at the universe and call it a day?" You crossed your arms, daring them to argue. "You don’t get it. You’ll never get it."

Nanami stepped forward, his voice cracking. "We could’ve stopped it—"

"Stopped what?" you cut him off. "The hashtags? The photos? Or the years of fists and laughter and shame before I ever met you? Thank God I didn’t tell you anything if this is what I get in return.”

The room felt colder as your words hung in the air. "You think you’re heroes in this story? You’re not. You’re just the latest chapter."

Silence.

They couldn’t meet your gaze.

“You want to help?” you said finally, your voice like steel. “Stop making this about you. Stop pretending your guilt fixes anything. And stop acting like you can protect me from a world that’s been trying to destroy me since the day I was born.”

Nanami whispered an apology, his voice barely audible. Gojo didn’t even try.

You exhaled, your walls firmly back in place. “Megumi is taking care of it,” you said, your tone detached. “Because unlike you, he listens. And he doesn’t ask me to relive the worst parts of my life to prove himself, even when he hated me.”

You then sighed fondly. “You know Haibara even begged me to let him kill you that day, and honestly, I don’t know if he’d have succeeded. He’d just retired, finally at peace, but I had to plant him there anyway. Because I needed to know. I needed to see what you’d do. And you didn’t disappoint. I had to tell my best friend how to hurt my own husbands that day—who I would have given my remaining organs to, even if it meant dying. The people I thought would never betray me.” Your voice cracked slightly, but you steeled yourself. “Even after having two husbands, I still don’t have a single sane one.”

Gojo shrank back. Nanami stiffened, his fingers curling into fists.

“Here’s how this works,” you continued. “You’ll stay quiet. You’ll play along. Because if you so much as whisper about how I orchestrated this—caused civil disturbance for your arrest only to bail you out—or if you don’t go back to jail once the babies are born, I will ruin you. Completely. No money, no clan influence, no technique will save you. I will make you both the most hated beings on the planet.”

You didn’t wait for their reply. The broadcast continued as you walked to your room, the sound of your door closing serving as a final punctuation.

Gojo sank onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Nanami remained standing, staring at the TV as the news anchor recapped what you’d set in motion.

“She planned this,” Nanami said. “Every step. Every goddamn step.”

Gojo exhaled sharply. “You have to admit I was right; she does hate us.”

Nanami’s eyes drifted around the room. “Do you remember her house when we first met her?”

Gojo’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, what about it?”

“There’s nothing like that here,” Nanami said, his voice low and filled with sorrow. “Nothing that’s hers. Nothing she’d choose for herself—just her wardrobe and work gadgets. All the decor suits our tastes, not hers.”

Gojo’s head snapped around, his six eyes scanning every detail—the decor, the glaring absence of her presence. His shoulders slumped, a sense of dread creeping in. “Do you think she… gave herself up? For us? Became a chameleon?”

“I think she did,” Nanami replied quietly, the weight of the realization heavy in the air. “She thought it was what we wanted, what would keep us close to her. She stopped taking pictures years ago. Remember her self-portraits? How breathtaking she used to look in those black and whites? She hasn’t taken any in ages. And I didn’t even notice.”

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch, a wave of regret washing over him. “I stopped asking her about her past. About where she came from. She used to dodge the questions, and we just let her.”

Nanami turned away, his shoulders tense. “Maybe she was never really here. Maybe we only saw what we wanted to see.”

Gojo leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, fingers tangled in his hair. His breath came uneven, a rhythm broken by thoughts he couldn’t quiet. Nanami stood frozen by the shattered iPad, his expression unreadable except for the tension in his jaw.

"She never told us," Gojo said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not once. And we never pushed, did we?"

Nanami’s gaze flickered to the dark TV screen, now speckled with shards of glass. "We thought we were respecting her privacy," he said hollowly. "But we weren’t. We were avoiding it."

Gojo’s laugh was humourless. "We didn’t want to deal with it. That’s the truth, isn’t it? We liked her being... mysterious. It was easier to pretend she didn’t come with baggage we couldn’t handle."

Nanami didn’t respond, but his silence was damning.

Gojo looked up, his six eyes dimmer than regular, like a light fading out. "Do you remember how she always flinched when someone raised their voice? Or how she desperately had to intervene when we argued?" His voice cracked on the last word, his throat dry and tight.

Nanami didn’t respond immediately, his hands tightening into fists so hard his nails left crescent-shaped marks in his palms. "I thought she just didn’t like us fighting," he said, his voice hollow, barely above a whisper. "But it wasn’t just a marital spat for her, was it? It was survival. She was defusing the way she must’ve done as a kid—because no one ever came for her when they turned to take their anger out on her." His breath hitched, and he clenched his jaw to steady himself, failing.

Gojo’s hand drifted to his forearm, fingers tracing absent patterns over faint scars only he could see. "She joked about how she hated hugs. I thought it was just her being quirky, but now..." His voice faltered, breaking into silence as he looked down at his lap, shoulders slumping forward. "Now I see it. She didn’t hate them. She just didn’t trust them. How could she, after..." He couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat closing around the words like a vice.

Nanami sank onto the couch beside him, his head in his hands, his broad shoulders trembling under the weight of his guilt. "She never let us meet her family. Not once. All there ever was, was Megumi’s mother. And we didn’t ask why. We didn’t want to know why. I thought we were giving her space." His fingers dug into his scalp as if he could rip the thoughts from his mind. "But I’m starting to see it now, Satoru. She wasn’t protecting them from us—she was protecting herself from having to relive it."

Gojo’s jaw tightened, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch like he was afraid he might collapse. "She told me once she didn’t believe in justice," he said, his voice lifeless. "I thought she was just being cynical." He laughed bitterly, a sound devoid of humour, harsh and raw. "But she wasn’t. She was speaking from experience. From years of being told to shut up, to stay silent. Laughed at." He pressed the heel of his hand against his temple, the pressure doing nothing to stop the storm in his head.

Nanami’s breath shuddered as he exhaled, his voice trembling. "We let her be strong because it suited us. We didn’t want to confront what made her that way." His gaze dropped to his wrist, his thumb brushing over the vein there. A small, dark thought flickered through his mind before he shook it away.

Gojo’s hands trembled as he stared at them, the weight of their failure crushing him. "She never asked us for anything. Not once. Didn’t even let us spend much money on her, not even on that fucking ring she keeps throwing away. And we called it independence, but it wasn’t, was it? It was self-preservation." His fingers curled into his palms, nails biting into his skin, leaving burning faint red marks.

Nanami’s voice cracked, and he didn’t bother to hide it. "We should’ve seen it," he said, his tone thick with anguish. "The way she avoided being alone with people, the way she always sat with her back to the wall in restaurants. How she flinched when people touched her shoulder." His hands trembled, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It was all there. And we didn’t see it because we didn’t want to."

Gojo leaned back, his head thudding against the couch. He stared at the ceiling, unblinking, as if he could burn the image of her pain into his memory as penance. His voice was barely audible. "She built walls so high we didn’t even try to climb them. We just admired them from the ground and called it love." His lips twisted into a grimace, self-loathing etched into every line of his face.

Nanami’s hands dropped to his sides, his knuckles white from gripping his knees too hard. "She’s strong because she had to be," he said, his tone barely holding together. "And we took that strength for granted. Then made her relive the trauma in a hundred times worse possible way." He closed his eyes, the thought of her suffering making his stomach churn. A single tear slid down his cheek, unnoticed.

Gojo’s fists clenched, his nails digging into his palms. He welcomed the sting, the reminder of his own failures. “I can’t do this,” he muttered. “I can’t keep pretending we’re the good guys.”

Nanami didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for the whiskey bottle on the table, pouring himself a glass with steady hands. He stared at the amber liquid for a long moment but didn’t drink. “We’re not the good guys,” he said finally, his voice cold and matter-of-fact. “We never were.”

Gojo’s laugh was broken, filled with self-loathing. “So what are we, then?”

Nanami set the glass down with a heavy thud, his gaze meeting Gojo’s. “We’re the villains in her story.”

Behind closed doors, you let the mask and your scratchy robe slip altogether. The twins stirred faintly, but their calm felt like an extension of your own. Maybe it was because, for the first time, you’d stopped being afraid.

You logged onto the game, slipping on your headset for the voice-only chat with the team. Haibara’s voice came through immediately, cheerful and loud. “Finally! Took you long enough. Act well? Did the popo buy it?”

“Unfortunately,” you answered. Laughing at Haibara calling the police ‘popo.’ He had a way of making you laugh at the silliest things even after heavy moments—sometimes he didn’t even know about, like now.

“Thought you got caught in your own web.” Haibara teased.

“Not yet,” you muttered, smirking.

Megumi sighed. “Did the morons bother you again?”

“They tried,” you replied, sighing. “But I don’t wanna talk about it; let’s play; it’s already too late.”

“Bro, stop looting everything!” Haibara, as username PanicButton, yelled, the sound of gunfire echoing faintly. “You’re supposed to share the treasure.”

“It’s not my fault you’re slow,” Megumi deadpanned, his character swiping yet another chest. “Git gud.”

You laughed softly. “Focus, idiots. I didn’t log in to babysit you.”

“Babysit?!” Haibara gasped dramatically. “Says the one who can’t land a helicopter. Some gaming CEO you are.”

"Hey!” you shot back, “forgive me for not living online like you two losers. But watch me carry this possy.”

“Yeah, carry us straight off a cliff,” Megumi muttered, his character hopping onto a horse and bolting toward the next mission marker.

The banter was chaotic—the kind that made your stomach hurt from laughing. Testing unreleased games with Haibara and Megumi felt like a bizarre throwback to simpler times—if you could call it that.

Haibara zoomed in on the screen with a grin. “Oh, just ignore the fact that I totally saved your ass from that bison. Not everyone gets to be a hero.”

You sighed. “Yeah, a hero who throws me off a moving wagon mid-missions. Very heroic, 10/10.”

“That’s a tactical manoeuvre,” Haibara shot back with mock innocence. “You’ll thank me later.”

Megumi sighed, adjusting his position like he was the only sane one here. “We’re supposed to be hunting, not starting a podcast.”

“Well, hunting’s boring,” Haibara quipped, shooting at a random bird that was already halfway to Canada. The bullet missed by miles. “Look at that! Pure skill.”

“Very MI6 of you,” you said dryly, earning a snort from Megumi.

Out of nowhere, your character charged directly toward a camp full of armed NPCs. “Let’s see who gets shot first.”

The NPCs instantly zeroed in on you. Gunfire, shouting, and horses trampling everything in their path. Your character was dodging bullets like she had a sixth sense, but then Megumi’s character just jumped off a cliff into the swamp for no reason at all only to be immediately mulled by an alligator. All the while Haibara’s was busy taunting NPCs on the other side of the camp.

“Looks like the good Lord got your ass and face mixed up!” Haibara emoted at an NPC.

You burst out laughing and ran to join him, whispering to the male NPC’s wife, “Ma’am, you’d be beautiful if both your eyes looked in the same direction.”

Haibara, encouraged by your level of chaos, added to his NPC victim, “Bet your Pa wished he’d have pulled out.”

Megumi suddenly appeared behind Haibara, delivering some karmic justice. “Promise me you won’t have children, mister.”

You turned on Megumi, smirking. “I’m sorry, miss; there must have been a terrible accident.” You emoted pointing at his face. Because apparently, in Megumi’s gamer brain, playing with female characters was supposed to give him an edge.

Haibara joined forces with you. “How come you only have one eyebrow?”

You tipped your hat at Haibara. “You make me glad to be a criminal.”

Megumi wasn’t done with you two. “I’m gonna install Windows in your skull,” he grumbled.

“Stay in the kitchen,” you teased, watching Haibara spin in a circle on his horse before nearly crashing into a tree.

Then, an NPC passed Megumi, calling him a “filthy bitch” as he along with his horse crashed into the mud. You and Haibara immediately went chasing the NPC down while laughing your asses off.

It didn’t stop there. As all three of you became wanted, a lawman chasing Megumi yelled, “I love it when it’s a woman... Feels romantic.”

Another one yelled at you, “Shoot her, men! She ain’t no lady.”

Haibara went to buy ammo in Rhodes, and the shopkeeper shot him a confused look. “I don’t get many ladies in my shop.” He was in a male character.

Then, the lawman chasing Megumi, who still hadn’t given up his female character, yelled, “We ain't no Sunday soldiers, girly!”

After you all dripped yourself from the cash you’d earned, you strutted out to show off, and an NPC walked by, taunted, “Did you mean to leave the house looking like that?”

“Oh hell nah.” Both Haibara and Megumi yelled in unison and chased the NPC down with Molotov cocktails, only for him to get away while flipping them off.

One NPC had the audacity to yell,

“You did well in your last mission.

For a woman!”

You didn’t hesitate as you pulled out an elephant rifle and shot him right in the dick. Haibara and Megumi groaned. “Ohh, I felt that!”

Finally, an NPC called Haibara “thicker than a rock.”

Haibara froze, staring at the screen. “Did that NPC just body-shame me?”

“You’re not the one getting shot in the balls,” you said, wiping away tears from laughing. “But I think you’re thicker than a rock, too.”

And with that, your spirits were lifted, for now, by absolute stupidity and the best-worst friends ever.

After an hour, your stomach growled.

Loudly.

Oh, no.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You forgot snacks.

“I’ll be back. Need food. Muting myself.”

They acknowledged you as their characters continued galloping through the map. Megumi tied you to his horse in-game, ensuring to carry you wherever they went, while Haibara gleefully chased him with a lasso.

You looked through the door’s keyhole, and lo and behold there he was—Gojo, sitting cross-legged on the floor directly in front of it, his head tilted slightly towards the floor as if he’d been waiting for you to notice.

God, no. Why?

Why now?

Where was all this devotion before?

Now you didn’t even care. You thought to yourself, mocking them.

You inhaled sharply, and that’s when you caught it—Nanami’s cologne, faint but unmistakable. He was somewhere close too, probably lingering just out of sight.

Your shoulders tensed as you sighed, clutching your stomach like a school bag to hoist it for maximum speed because ‘aerodynamics’ or whatever Gojo used to nerd about. Not that it would help much, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

The door creaked open, and before you could fully process your decision, you darted toward the kitchen.

Gojo’s head snapped up instantly, his eyes widening as he scrambled to his feet. He moved faster than you expected, his long legs closing the distance in seconds, thinking you were actually going to make a run for it.

// Bold is their POV, Both sides are oblivious to the others thoughts

Once you stopped, Nanami was already in the kitchen, his back to you, doing... god knows what. The faint clink of utensils and deliberate movements felt oddly calculated, like he was waiting for you to arrive.

He had been standing there for hours. Waiting. The same hand that now held a spoon had been trembling earlier, and he hadn’t been able to calm it. Not since he heard the faint shuffle of your feet from your room.

You ignored the tension knotting your stomach and headed for the cabinets. Your expression remained a mask of indifference, even as you frantically searched for your snacks.

The first cabinet? Empty.

The second? Also empty.

Panic crept in as you opened cabinet after cabinet, each one devoid of the comfort you were looking for. You kept your poker face on and frantically searched the entire kitchen. Everything was where it was supposed to be except for your snacks.

Had Gojo swallowed them whole? Or did they throw them all out just to spite you?

Gojo winced as he watched you open cabinet after cabinet. He wasn’t sure if the dull ache in his chest was guilt or something worse. Probably worse. It always felt worse these days.

Finally, your gaze shifted upward to the top shelves.

You tiptoed, straining to reach the handle, when Nanami stepped in behind you.

Too close.

His presence loomed like a ghost, his breath disturbingly steady as he reached over your shoulder and handed you the basket.

Your fingers grasped it, but he didn’t let go.

You yanked harder; he didn’t let go.

Nanami’s hand didn’t move. It wasn’t stubbornness. He wanted to let go. God, he wanted to let go. But something in him screamed that if he let go of this basket, he’d lose more than snacks. He’d lose the last shred of a connection he had to you.

You aggressively tried to snatch it, but he wouldn’t let go. His face remained calm, almost serene, but the way he watched you made your skin crawl.

Nanami’s calmness was a mask, one he’d perfected over the years. Beneath it, his mind was spiralling. He wasn’t looking at you. Not really. He was looking at the faint bruise on your arm from yesterday, the hollowness in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

Your patience snapped, and you let go with an inaudible huff, glaring at the floor—refusing to make any kind of eye contact with them—before turning to leave.

You would order something or get Haibara or Megumi to drop off something.

But before you could take a step, Gojo was there, blocking your path. His long arms caged you in.

Gojo had moved instinctively, holding you hostage before he even realized what he’d done.

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to maintain your poker face mixed with ‘ready for aggressive retaliation.’ Inside, though, fear clawed at your chest. Sandwiched between the two of them immediately took you back to how only yesterday they’d dragged you out of your lower cabinet in Norway.

You were acutely aware of your vulnerability—the shorts and crop top you wore felt like they offered no protection, no barrier between you and their oppressive presence. But nothing else felt comfortable enough to sleep in right now, and you certainly hadn’t planned on coming out to face them tonight.

You had reached a point in your life when the fathers of your babies terrified you.

His heart sank when he saw the flicker of panic in your eyes—the way your shoulders stiffened, your gaze locked firmly on the floor. You were scared. Of him.

The thought sent a cold wave of nausea through him.

You’d carry a knife everywhere if only it would work on these two. Damn, why didn’t you marry someone your own size?!

Gojo’s gaze softened, his head tilting as if he could sense the panic you were trying to hide. You were certain you had kept your expressions in check, even as you stared at the floor.

Gojo wanted to say something, anything, to make you look at him. But the words stuck in his throat, replaced by the crushing weight of his own failure.

You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to flinch, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing you crack.

Nanami finally broke the standoff, his voice quiet but unnervingly calm. “Here.”

He handed you another basket—this one filled with snacks labelled “Baby Bribes” in obnoxiously cheerful colours and comic sans as if a toddler had designed it after a sugar rush. There were granola bars that looked like they’d been around for the First World War, fruit cups that seemed to be having an identity crisis, and a suspiciously large bag of pickles that had a warning label: “Caution: May Cause Uncontrollable Cravings and Sudden Urges to Call Your Ex.” It also came with a note that read: “Congratulations! You’re now the proud owner of a snack collection that’s 90% fibre and 10% sanity! Enjoy your journey into the wild world of pregnancy snacking—where every bite is a gamble and every flavour is a surprise!”

The packaging didn’t match the suffocating tension of the moment, but your stomach growled loudly, and the twins made the decision for you.

You snatched it, muttering something under your breath that neither of them caught, and bolted toward your room, lifting your stomach for speed like a getaway bag.

Their eyes followed you until the door clicked shut behind you, but their presence lingered, heavy and inescapable.

Gojo’s hands fell limply to his sides. His eyes were burning, but he didn’t blink. Didn’t move.

Nanami exhaled shakily, his grip tightening on the edge of the counter. His knuckles were white. "If I were her, I’d never forgive us," he murmured, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.

Gojo didn’t respond. His gaze remained fixed on your direction, his expression blank but his thoughts anything but.

They stood there long after you left, two men drowning in despair, unable to reach the one person they’d promised to protect.

What would your employees think if they knew you were lifting your stomach to run around the house, like some cursed gargoyle?

They would immediately suggest a game based on it.

This felt like a new low for someone who is supposed to be an adult, even a mother soon, hopefully.

You logged back in, unmuting and muttering, “Husbands are so useless.”

Megumi and Haibara’s laughter echoed through your headset. “Tell us something we don’t know,” Haibara quipped.

Megumi added, “At least in-game, you can lasso them into silence.”

“Or shoot them in the dick,” Haibara added solemnly.

“Don’t tempt me,” you replied, smirking.

These are some funny chapter names I thought of :D The Tragic Elegance of Comic Sans Haibara’s MI6 Resume > Your Life Choices Kento’s Stoic Crisis (Now with Extra Trauma) Satoru Gojo’s Six Eyes and Zero Brain Cells Lawyer Hiromi with zero chill NPC banter: 10/10 The Only Therapy Here is the Comments Section Overprotective idiots in love Dumbass husbands being dumbass husbands Polyamorous dumpster fire Graphic Depictions of Emotional Damage™ Poly Relationship Drama with Terrorist Husbands Crack Cocaine Writing Energy Found Family, Lost SanityPhilosophical Angst in a Comedy Wrapper

A/N: Apologies in advance for the long ass note. Okay, let’s acknowledge the obvious: I have a personal vendetta against all these characters, apparently. The moments involving Haibara, Megumi, and the reader playing the game with sheer foolishness are inspired by real life and are dedicated to my close friend Farhan, who was like Haibara in many ways IRL—only more reckless and sassier. He was an exceptionally talented VFX and motion graphics artist and contributed to numerous projects, including a ton of Marvel and DC movies. Tragically, a few years ago he passed away after an accident that initially left him unscathed. He went home and didn’t inform his family, along with his wife, who was with his family at the time, thinking they’d worry. But three days later, he experienced severe pain due to internal bleeding. He sadly passed away just hours after arriving at the hospital, only two months after getting married. Farhan is still deeply missed, and I haven’t enjoyed playing with another team since his passing. But let his story serve as a cautionary tale: don’t take life too casually. And please, don’t feel sad for him—he wouldn’t want that. He was a true menace in the best way possible, so remember him like that. Bonus points if you can guess the game they’re playing! And, I know no one can alone carry a 65-inch TV because it's too fucking wide; trust me, I know. I have it. But in Daddy Hiromi, we thurst! More bonus points for more unhinged suggestions in the comments. And those who suggested ideas and voted on the last poll will get their reader service in the next chapter. Euh, why did that sound so gross.

Next Chapter 13 (alt ending 2.4) - Burn the Mother of Three (Tumblr/Ao3)

All Works Masterlist

Tag-list = @lady-of-blossoms @stargirl-mayaa @dark-agate @tqd4455 @roscpctals99 @sxlfcxst @se-phi-roth @austisticfreak @helloxkittylo @itoshi-r @kodzukensworld @revolvinggeto @luringfantasy @xx-tazzdevil-xx @unaaasz @thebumbqueen

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cottonlemonade · 9 months ago

Note

Hello! Can I order a large chai latte for here with Sachiro Hirugami! I don't see much a fic of my baby😭 I fell inlove with him the moment I saw him on the anime🤣

Date Night

word count: 765 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Hirugami x chubby!Reader

genre: suggestive fluff

warnings: mdni, nsfw, spoilers

request: fluffy-spicy, date night with husband Hirugami

“After you, madam.“

Your husband Sachiro opened the front door to your apartment with a little bow.

“Thank you, kind sir.“

As you walked past him, you cupped his cheek and he smiled contently.

After helping you out of your jacket you both b-lined to the kitchen, setting up camp in front of the open fridge, scavenging for food. As fun and romantic as the date at the observatory was, it had supremely lacked in snacks. You fed Sachiro a cherry tomato before tossing one into your own mouth.

After the third tomato he asked, “Pudding cups?” with a hopeful look in his eyes.

You dug around in the bottom shelf and produced two - one chocolate, one vanilla. A quick game of rock paper scissors decided that you (the winner) got to pick first and so you chose chocolate. Lounging around the kitchen, leaning against the counters, you talked about the exhibit and made plans what to have for dinner next week.

With a sweet vanilla flavored kiss he went off to take a shower, leaving you to wait in the bedroom, reading a few pages of your book.

Sachiro smoothed out the shirt he wore to bed and plopped down onto the sheets, when he heard the shower turning on and your distinct humming through the rushing water.

He scrolled through his phone, checking emails and his schedule for any upcoming surgeries at the vet clinic, when his eyes fell onto the cover of your book that was left pages down on your pillow to hold your place. He must have seen that cover a hundred times but apparently he never registered the seductive look of the very shirtless man who smirked up at him from the dust jacket.

With a curiously furrowed brow he picked it up and read a few lines while reaching for the glass of water on his nightstand.

He choked mid-sip, his eyes widening and cheeks flushing.

Okay, maybe it was just a crazy coincidence that he just happened to pick up the book at this scene. So he flipped a few pages back. Nope. The characters were at it again, this time in a restaurant bathroom. He thought back to the previous nights when he remembered you reading it before bed. With a completely straight face. How?!

When you came out of the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around your body, you stopped in your tracks when you found your husband sitting with his back leaning against the headboard, your … “adult“ book in one hand, while the other was covering his mouth in a mixture of curious wonder and disbelief.

“Honey?“, he began without taking his eyes off the pages, “Would you have wanted me to get a bit more handsy at the observatory? Or-“, he turned to a previous page for reference, “follow you into the bathroom and-“

“Oh God, Sachiro, why are you reading that?“ Your voice came out in a high pitched, hysterical (and mortified) giggle and you jumped back into the en suite, hiding behind the door, only glancing through the slit in the frame at your husband, who - eyes still glued to the book - got up and sauntered over to you.

He offered a quick review. “The plot is … non-existent.”

That got you out of the corner.

“Now hold up, the plot is … it’s there!”

“Uh huh.”, he grinned and, remembering that he saw a couple of times that the male character liked to lean in doorways, he did the same, grinning at you with a raised brow.

Your face moved from tomato to beetroot red and you tried to move past him but channeling the book character he caught a corner of the towel and pulled ever so slightly. Originally, he just wanted to tease you and keep you in place but your determination to run away in embarrassment brought him the utter delight of his naked wife, still wet from the shower, reaching for the towel and in the process stumbling into his arms. He always loved the softness of your body and scolded you whenever you criticized your weight. He adored cuddling, kissing and touching every inch of you and he proved that as often as you’d let him.

He shut the book with a soft snap and you felt his arm tightening around your chubby waist, pulling you flush against him. Your mouth opened a little when you felt something hard pushing against your generous thighs.

“I also read that part you dog-eared, sweetheart.”, Sachiro said quietly, moving his hand lower, “Wanna give it a try?”

a/n: oh, one for Sachiro!! I’m so glad someone requested him 🌟 thank you and please enjoy!

inspired by this IG reel

for requests see here

#sunnys cozy cafe #hirugami x chubby reader #hirugami sachiro x chubby reader #hirugami sachirou x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #hirugami sachiro x reader #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #hirugami sachirou #haikyuu hirugami #hq hirugami #hq smut #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x curvy reader

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astarion-approves · 1 year ago

Text

The ever oblivious Tav

Tav x Astarion

SFW, biting, blood drinking, Tav has 0 intelligence, slight spoilers, gender neutral reader, humor, touch of jealousy, just a short silly drabble. 900+ words.

Astarion gives into his desires and decides to drink from Tav while they're sleeping.

--------

Tav slept so peacefully, their breaths soft and relaxed, and they even smiled in their sleep as they enjoyed whatever dreams were brought to them…

But tonight they weren’t safe from a pair of ruby eyes that watched them. The hunger that Astarion felt whenever he looked at Tav was building. Their neck looking more and more like a meal with each passing day.

Surely it wouldn’t hurt anyone if he allowed himself to indulge just once, would it?

Astarion could wait no longer, the vampire crawling towards Tav’s bed, his mouth open and fangs ready to attach to their delicate flesh. He let out a soft moan as Tav’s blood rushed into his mouth, his eyes fluttering shut at the taste of pure delicious blood. Not that of an animal, or some sewer rat thrown into his lap— no.

This was everything to Astarion. A simple human that he traveled with, one that he had quickly befriended and began to care for. He felt a pinch of guilt as he continued to suck, but he knew he could force himself to stop when he needed to…

“Mh.”

Suddenly, Tav’s arm was wrapped around Astarion’s back, slowly sliding up his shoulders until it came to rest in his hair. Tav gently pushed down, urging the vampire to continue feeding from them.. But the vampire released his bite, raising his head to look onto Tav’s face where their eyes were now slightly open with a smitten little smile across their tips.

“So handsome,” Tav mumbled, their other hand coming up to wipe away their blood from Astarion’s bottom lip.

And then they were pulling Astation down, smashing their lips together in a deep and forceful kiss.

At first Astarion didn’t know how to react, had Tav known he was a vampire all this time? Did they not mind that Astation approached them like a midnight snack without permission?

But then…. Astarion gave into the kiss. Choosing to cradle Tav’s upper body in his arms as he kissed back, his tongue slipping past his lips and entangling with Tav’s. The human moaned in return, no doubt tasting nothing but iron as they licked their own blood from Astarion’s mouth.

It was over almost as soon as it began. Tav pulled themselves away, giving Astarion one last smile before lying back down and going back to sleep.

For a moment Astarion thought it would lead to something… a little more fun. Perhaps another night…

In the morning, Astarion kept sneaking a peek at where Tav still slept. The human sleeping in a little longer than usual, which made sense knowing what had transpired between them. He probably took a little more blood than he should have… but having Tav hold him while he drank his blood only made him drink a little harder. He swallowed as he remembered the taste, his tongue licking over his fangs as he fought the urge to go to them once more.

“They’re sleeping in a little later than usual, wouldn’t you say?” Shadowheart approached Astarion, apparently also noticing how Tav continued to dream on with cute little snores in between.

“Hm, yes. But… I wouldn’t want to wake them! Let the little human get their beauty sleep. They deserve it.”

Shadowheart snorted. “Not like they need it.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes at her, a quick burning of jealousy building in his stomach but then quickly passing. Tav may have kissed him last night… but that didn’t mean they were together.

Soon after, Tav awoke, the human rubbing at their eyes and yawning as they eased their way out of bed. They were greeted by Gale with a cup of coffee and a pat on the back. The two joked how Tav was normally the first person up and that Gale could hardly boil water without the aid of magic.

The entire time Astarion was fidgeting, pretending to read his book while his fingers tapped on his thigh and he continued to watch as Tav rolled up their bedding between sips of apparently terrible coffee.

“I had the strangest dream last night,” Tav began, catching the attention of everyone at camp, most likely expecting a dream of their Guardian.

Astarion knew better.

But perhaps this was some kind of cover, that Tav knew the others would be worried by them sleeping in—

“I dreamt that Astarion was a vampire.”

So much for that.

“Really?” Shadowheart stole a glance at Astarion, raising a single brow at him. “I could see it. As pale as he is, and those fangs he has..”

Gale hummed and looked Astarion up and down. “I’m not sure I would feel safe with a vampire in our camp. Especially if he hid it from us.”

“It felt so real,” Tav replied.

“Wait,” Shadowheart began and turned to Astarion. “You’re not actually a vampire… are you?”

Astarion laughed, and tossed his book into his tent, rubbing at the back of his neck as he moved closer to the three. “Well... this is.. awkward—“ He stopped once he reached them, the vampire eying the two clear indicators on his bite on Tav’s pretty little neck. The other’s noticed it as well. “Should I also tell them about our little kiss?”

Shadowheart gasped. Gale took a step back in shock.

And Tav dropped their jaw in horror.

“Wait!” They dropped their coffee, heat flooding their cheeks and their hands flew up to touch their own lips. “How did you know about that?!”

Astarion just laughed as the others rolled their eyes at the ever oblivious Tav.

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judesmoonbeauty · 3 months ago

Text

Jude & Moon Travel - Follow Up PV Thoughts on the Pocket Watch & Big Ben

The 10:10 on Jude's pocket watch kept bothering me, and although the animation of of Big Ben in his PV is recycled from other PVs, it is very prominently pointing to 12 o'clock. Seeing as the moon is and the clocktower are heavily implied as route hints, I decided to read the book, "From the Earth to the Moon," by Jules Verne. There are no spoilers really, but just in case. This isn't that lengthy. And this is just for fun.

This book is the one that Jude refers to in his bond stories, "Hobbies", and "Moonlit Night".

In "Hobbies", Jude says that he's going to make Ellis look into every author on the papers Jude was looking into that discussed moon travel. "Physics, engineering, astronomy.....", Jude goes on to say that he is going to nab all the good researchers before others can. He goes as far as chiding the author of the book for spouting nonsense like it's something that could be accomplished.

In "Moonlit Night," Jude mentions that the book is telling the truth in that it would take 11 kilometers per second to make it to the moon.

So, what does that have to do with the actual book, his PV, and are there any other tidbits we can pick up on Jude from this?

A quick summary of the Book: It's just after the American Civil War, and a group of guys with too much time on their hands are basically complaining because they have nothing to do. However, Impey Barbicane enters the picture and says, 'Bros, let's go to the moon.' Barbicane then sets out with his friends to design and build a cannon that will shoot a hollow-shelled bullet to the moon.

Quick Thoughts: This book, while it's science and calculations are outdated, is very thoroughly researched. There's so many algebraic calculations, mentions of books, papers, and scrolls all the way from the B.C.E to C.E. that it's no wonder Jude read it and took a thorough interest in it. Jude likes scientific explanations after all (HW epilogue). If you're into sci-fi or astronomy, this is a very good book to read. The most important feature about this book is: TIME. Timing is EVERYTHING, down to the seconds.

If you want to read the book yourself online, you can read it here.

Hints/Potential Basis to Jude lore-

Impey Barbicane: I laughed when I learned that after being the director of artillery (in which he was an inventor), Barbicane made a large fortune as a wood merchant. He's described as being calm, cold, austere, of a serious and self-contained demeanor, not chivalrous, of immovable character and last but not least......punctual as a chronometer. He is also highly intelligent.

Six Questions: In the book, Barbicane writes a letter of six questions regarding moon travel to the Observatory of Cambridge in Massachusetts. I won't write what they are, but in time he gets a response from them with six answers. Most notably, here is what we need to know for Jude:

The cannon must be shot at a very specific time, when the zenith and the perigee align at the most opportune moment. Basically, this is when the moon is the closest to the earth. This will allow for the greatest chance of a successful landing.

The Observatory then tells the protag that in one year's time (on December 1st), the moon will be closest to the earth, and this is their best shot. If they miss this opportunity, then they'd need to wait another 18 years and 11 days after this.

The launch should take place exactly at 10 hours, 46 minutes, and 40 seconds on December 1st.

The crew should reach their destination precisely at midnight on December 4th.

Funding and Manual Labor: They even did the math of how much it would take to build and the cost was well over the millions in USD. To which, Barbicane said not to worry, and then proceeded to obtain the money. The labor was intense as a giant hole had to be dug into the ground for the launch space, amongst other things. It's a lot.....the building of the shell alone would cost about 2,035 pounds in Victorian times, which is equivalent to 327,712.76 pounds today, or $425,242.02.

PV Correlations: After I read the book I got super excited, because this means that the 12 o'clock hour on Big Ben, is probably referring to the 12 o'clock hour that Jude is supposed to land on the moon.

Additionally, the fact that Barbicane is a punctual chronometer says a lot about his pocket watch. It's not a normal pocket watch, but one that has a built in chronograph. Essentially, these are an extra built in complication (or feature) that can measure time, distance and speed. All of which are essential. It can come with up to three chronometers.

What does that mean for Jude's PV? After I researched all this, and reviewed the PV again, Jude's pocket watch has a chronograph/chronometer on it. Additionally, the watch is at 10:10, and I know some of us were wondering if that specific time held any significance. Well, perhaps (though the hands aren't shown to be moving), the minutes hand is making it's way down to the 46th minute of 10 o'clock....to the 40th second of that minute.

Time is running out. IF (and that's a big IF), Jude is truly using Verne's book as a guide, he may be in a race against time to launch his "cannon" into space as the moon and earth are reaching it's zenith, at exactly 10:46 at 40 seconds. Otherwise, he may have to wait a very long time to reach it again.

It's just another theory and it doesn't discredit any others in anyway. I think time will play a part in his route in several ways, but I think it's important to note, especially with the IkeVil LINE icon changing to a clock face AND, one of the LINE questions that Jude asks you is from Moonlit Night....about the 11 km per second (which is the distance it takes from the book of 12,000 yd per sec), to get to the moon.

That's all.

#jude jazza #ikevil theories #C's corner #Ciele's Rambles #ikevil spoilers #ikevil jude

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fauxnotice · 4 months ago

Text

ALIEN SKINCARE. v! blue lock/male! reader. originally posted on quotev. masterlist.

CHAPTER II. WHEN THE LOCK IS BLUE AND THE WORLD IS ENDING.

SPOILER WARNING for various characters not yet properly introduced in the anime (all of them appeared in the vs.U-20 arc), for the Hiori light novel (very vague spoilers, you'll probably only notice them if you've read the novel), and for Episode Nagi manga (extremely vague, probably won't notice them even if you've read the source material).

Since that match, you haven’t felt the “spark” again.

And yet, you had decided to apologize to your team, making sure that they knew that your sacrilegious crime against the spirit of football and teamplay was just an one-off thing and that you weren’t going to go around stomping on your teammates again. No matter that it was you that made the loss seem not as pathetic as it would have been if you hadn’t scored at all. But in the end, the only important thing is that you could keep playing.

In truth, you’ve never been certain in love, yet you knew that you loved football.

You also knew that it would be for the best if you completely let go of any hopes that playing football will take you anywhere. No matter how proud the general public was of the team representing their nation, they were … rather unimpressive against other teams on the global level.

Unlucky you, to be born here.

The chances of making it big (by your definition) were near zero. You should make peace with that fact.

So why did a simple letter leave you in such a perturbed state?

Never mind you first thought of -who even sends letters anymore?- the crest of the JFU causes a period of wide-eyed gaping. Sayaka, who had informed you of the envelope arriving earlier, looks over your shoulder curiously, as she searches for the name of the sender. “Japan Football Union? How exciting! Come on, open it!”

You pause. Which is incredibly dramatic, even by your standards. It’s not like whatever is in there is going to bite your fingers clean off or something. You internally roll your eyes at your own behavior, as you rip the paper.

Right when you’re done reading the contents, a cheery jingle coming from your phone interrupts you. You already know who it is -you did change the notification sound for him specifically, just so you could immediately differentiate it from messages sent by your bothersome classmates, since you usually tend to ignore those for hours before you actually reply to them. None of them care most of the time, so no big deal.

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

look at what i got 🎶

Sent 1 attachment.

You look at the picture, and lo and behold, it’s the exact same envelope as the one that was addressed to you. What strikes you as more important at the moment is the fact that Bachira seemed to be back to his usual mood, which is nice, since he was rather dispirited earlier today. This tended to happen semi-regularly after matches or practice with his team, so you were left to wonder if those people were sickos or something of similar nature, for making Bachira of all people upset. The fiasco at his recent game was obviously the current cause, though you couldn’t get what the big deal was. They did lose, sure, supposedly due to Bachira’s blunder, but who cares? He was the only person worth anything on that team. If the outcome is that important to them, they should get good. Bunch of slugs, you swear.

Ah, you’re keeping Bachira waiting.

You

I got it too

It’s for some “Player improvement project”

Sent 1 attachment.

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

way to ruin the surprise ú_ù

You

Lol

🐝🐝🐝🐝🐝

so we are going x33

You

I guess

I’ll think about it

This whole thing seemed very sketchy. The notice didn’t seem to be forged or anything of the sort, but the lack of proper details about what exactly this whole project was about (or just about anything, really, since whoever sent these was very stingy with information) made you doubt the legitimacy of this entire scheme.

Maybe it was some sort of a coordinated kidnapping plan? That would be funny. Though you fail to see what exactly they’d gain from doing that to a bunch of football playing teens, assuming that was their target audience. Force you to kick the ball until you die? Do human experimentation? Lock you somewhere where not even the sun would find you? Would they demand a ransom? Sayaka didn’t have that type of money. But thinking logically, if this invitation was the best the organizers could come up with, maybe it’d be possible to outwit them? Much to think about.

You should consider this carefully.

You considered it carefully. And such careful consideration led you to taking a train from Chiba to Tokyo with Bachira on the date stated in the letter. While Bachira seemed pretty excited (as is the norm for him), you kept all of your feelings internalized.

After wasting time (Bachira wanted to look around) and following the map given to you, you finally made it to the supposed location of the project. The JFA building stood proud in front of you two, so you decided to believe that you most likely won’t die or be seriously harmed today. That would cause a real big scandal, for sure.

“This seems to be the place.” you hum as you glance at the paper once more, slightly frowning at the lack of one crucial detail. “But it doesn’t say where exactly we’re supposed to meet.”

“That means we should go in, right?” Bachira retorts, making it seem rather easy. It seemed like you were the only one overthinking everything. How you envied him, sometimes. Going through life with the carelessness of an amoeba seemed a lot less difficult than whatever was going on with you. Then again, minimizing your existence to the simplest cluster of cells doesn’t even seem that appealing when you think about it twice. You just can never win.

“It’s not like we can go back, now that we wasted money to get here.”

Your companion grins and slaps your back not at all lightly. “It’s always about money with you! Let'so go, let's go!”

You decide to stop the objection before you could vocalize it. Now’s not the time for bickering, even if it’s definitely not “always about money” with you, but whatever.

When you finally open the door, a considerable number of people turn to face you, which makes you (secretly) bristle in discomfort. Sure, you were an expert at playing a social butterfly, or at least a regular friendly peer, but rooms filled with a crowd of mostly unfamiliar faces wasn’t your ideal setting. You make a quick move forward, making them lose interest and turn to look back ahead.

As minutes rolled along, it seemed that nothing was happening other than more people coming in. In order to pass the time, you chatter with Bachira, completely discreetly (only on your part) commenting on the boys around you. Some of them looked … rather interesting , so you had to wonder how they leave the house everyday while looking like losers of the genetic lottery. Hell, some of them weren’t even ugly, yet they chose to present themselves in a way that made you wonder if they had a hole in their heads, or at least blindness in one or both eyes. You spot a guy with so much hair gel that the mere fact that he still has any hair is a miracle of global proportions (“Bwahahaha! That guy looks like a turnip!” Bachira observes, to which you laugh very unnoticeably).

You wish it was enough to distract you from the one thing that you had expected, yet feared, once you realized the group consisted of all teenage boys -the stench.

You don’t even want to imagine how bad it’d be once you started actually playing instead of standing around. You weren’t even that demanding; it’s not like you were asking them to bathe in holy water every three hours, but some soap would be nice?!

Unexpectedly, someone turns towards you. Before you is a bespectacled guy, with a rather handsome face and a fitting smile to boot. You guessed that there was something beneath that visage. Like an insecurity or an ugly personality facet that deserved to be wrapped in a pretty packaging, tucked away from the public eye. But you were just brainstorming. This guy could be going through the torments of a lifetime and it wouldn't be in your realm of caring. Then, he starts talking to you.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you two happen to be forwards?”

Huh. That’s one way to start a conversation. At least it gave you a small hint on whatever was going on here.

“Yeah!” Bachira replies before you can. “You’re one too?” You add.

He smiles and nods, very pretty and proper. “That’s right. My name is Yukimiya Kenyu, by the way. It’s nice to meet you.”

You easily slip into the familiar role as you smile back at him, radiating as much of your inner grace as you could while introducing yourself. “It's very nice to meet you too, Yukimiya-kun.”

The door opens once again and everyone predictably turns to look at the newcomers. You hear many whispers about the “Crown jewel of Japan”, but you have no idea who that is so you don’t even bother. You know Bachira doesn’t know either, and you don’t care enough to ask Yukimiya about it. There’s two guys at the entrance, so it’s a 50/50 chance that one’s the jewel and the other is the pebble. Whatever the truth is, you’ll find out if it ever becomes relevant to you. Which is not now.

Right then, your eyes get abruptly violated by the man that takes the centre of the podium. Not only does he wear the look of a freakish horror caricature like it’s second skin, his strange choice of a hairstyle makes him seem like a scorched thumb more than anything. You give him a point for effort, though, since his dead fish eyes and lanky limbs only add to the aesthetic. He oppens his mouth and talks, unfortunately.

Now, here’s the thing -you would have liked it if you were able to readily disagree with whatever bullshit this guy’s saying. But it’s understandable bullshit, which is a whole nother thing, so you settle on wearing a pensive and slightly concerned expression, just so you don’t seem out of place. Unlike most of those present, leaving your team behind for this delusional charade … doesn’t seem too bad to you. Perhaps it’s the ultimate hating mindset rearing its head once it senses an opportunity to muddle your thoughts. The whole plan of making the world’s best striker sounded very nice, but you weren’t fully convinced either. Not to be judgmental and superficial (you are) but looking like that and declaring such ideas didn’t leave much space for trust. You share a sideways glance with Bachira.

Then, for some reason, Possible Jewel suspect number One starts talking too. Arguing, mostly. You think it’s a silly hill to die on, but it’s not like you can blame him for thinking the way he does. People treasure their bonds and stuff like that, or so you’ve heard. Unsurprisingly, more complaints pipe up. Most are nonsensical to you, but you do agree with whoever asked why all of you had to live together. Looking at all of them … sharing a living space seems like an idea cooked up by a sadist of the highest calibre.

Yeah, you … don’t want that. Who knows where all these people have been.

“Ego’s” response to this is to start this strange contortion performance? Then he talks about the Japanese team and how they’re basically shit-out-of-the-ass bad (which isn’t untrue, but he didn’t have to say it like that), and continues on to quote many world class players, finishing with the principle of “egoism”.

This “egoism” is heretical against the primary principles of football, ingrained within every regular player who has ever had to share the field with a team.

You, an alien attempting to imitate regularity on a daily basis, find yourself at a loss of words. Transfixed, almost, enchanted even, by this man’s otherworldly philosophy. It feels like home, you realize, cold and empty, but still a memory of the years during which you had felt alive, like an actual being, like someone fitting into the mechanisms of existence. No -you want to bend these mechanisms to your liking. Someone like you is deserving of that.

What a tantalizing offer. You want to reach out and devour every fruit.

There’s a certain swirling darkness within Bachira’s eyes as he gazes at you. You don’t pay attention to it. In the end, you’re the only one that should matter. The center of all, it’s you-the lowest of all scum.

The gate opens, and the answer is clear.

After signing the letter of consent, for better or for worse, you find yourself amongst all 300 selected players as you’re led into different vehicles like a flock of sheep. During that time, you were forced to say goodbye to Bachira, since you were assigned different buses, but you assumed it wouldn’t be long until you saw him again. At least the seats are nice, you think as you make yourself comfortable against the window. And it has air conditioning too. Well, it seems like Ego and co. were actually serious about this, since they sunk so much money into it.

Just as you’re about to force yourself to doze off for the sake of making the trip easier, someone interrupts you. Oh, the joy. You felt like you had enough people time today, but it seems like you were wrong in your belief.

“Excuse me, do ya mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is taken, so …”

Is that a Kansai accent?

The newcomer has a ridiculously cutesy face, complete with the bug eyes of a bizarre size, but the image of daintiness is harshly offset by the boy’s height. Not thinking much of it, you give him a close-eyed smile and a nod as you move your things to give him space to sit.

“I don’t mind at all! Make yourself comfortable.”

The boy thanks you as he sits down. By the time he’s content with his position, the bus starts moving. For the sake of politeness, you introduce yourself to him, and he returns the gesture, letting you know that his name is Hiori Yo.

“Hiori-kun,” you say like a true conversationalist, “Are you from Kansai, by any chance?”

Hiori nods. “Yeah, I’m from Kyoto. What about you?”

Feeling glad that you weren’t stuck with someone who made conversations awkward for you, you continue without a hitch. “I’m from Chiba, but I used to live in Kyoto for a bit before going back.”

His eyes widen a bit. “Really? What made you move back?”

“Family matters, nothing much.” As you feel the conversation derailing, you smoothly reel it back. “Say, what do you think about this whole “Blue Lock” thing? It’s all pretty weird, isn’t it?”

“Honestly … when I got the letter, I thought it was some sorta scam.” Hiori admits, smiling when you start laughing. “I dunno, it just seemed suspicious.”

“Right? My friend didn’t think twice about it, but it seemed shady to me. It doesn’t help that the guy who’s supposed to train us looks like that.” You make a few vague hand gestures, hoping to demonstrate your point better.

“Like Slender Man?” Hiori supplies rather unhelpfully, actually. Your English is good enough to understand the literal meaning of what he says, but you have a feeling that he’s referencing something, yet you had no idea what. Unfortunately, your free time was usually spent training, so your knowledge of what was outside of your general sphere of interests was … lackluster. But if you were good at one thing (other than kicking a ball), it’s faking it until you make it. Ego is definitely slender, and a man, so that’s a start.

“Yeah!” You snap your fingers with a practiced amount of enthusiasm. Before your talk could get to the point where your ignorance about this so called “Slender Man” put you in a bad spot, you hum and turn to look out of the window. “I wonder when we’re going to get there.”

Hiori leans in to look to look outside as well. The next few minutes are spent in comfortable silence, much to the delight of you. You like people who knew how to shut up.

Eventually, silence bores you, as well.

“Why did you decide to come to Blue Lock?”

Hiori blinks owlishly at your sudden question. “I … wanted a change of pace, I guess.”

Hm. There was obviously something else hiding in there. Well, luckily for the guy, you weren’t interested in prodding at secrets when they held no importance to you. Whatever issues he had, he could deal with them on his own.

The look he’s giving you implies that he wants you to answer your own inquiry as well.

“That’s nice. I just like to play football.”

And that’s that.

As it turns out, the Blue Lock building is in the middle of nowhere. Totally not skeevy.

Next, you’re supposed to wait until your name is called. Luck seems to be on your side today, since your name is the first one on the list. You wave at Hiori as you move forward, deciding that he’s good company, with his overall calm demeanor and good sense of conversation-silence balance. Talking to him again wouldn’t be the worst thing.

You find out that you’re supposed to give your wallet and phone to the woman waiting in front of the door, which is … weird, but yeah, sure, might as well. It’s not even a kidnapping at this point, since you consented to being here. You just wish you knew you’d be staying somewhere else beforehand, so you could have packed more of your skincare products, and then thoroughly mentally prepared for rooming with a bunch of possible creeps amd weirdos, which would obviously turn your long established and extremely well-planned routine onto its head.

You’ll have to manage.

You’re definitely not gritting your teeth at the thought.

Just as she hands you your uniform, you remember. “Excuse me?”

“Yes?”

“Will you inform our guardians of this? Or should we do it ourselves?”

“We will notify your parents and guardians, don’t worry.” Anri replies, and proceeds to explain that you should look for the room marked with the letter present on the fabric.

With a quick “thank you” and a smile, you move on, looking down at your assigned uniform.

241

Your eyebrows furrow.

When you move onward, Hiori watches you leave.

As he waits his turn, he can’t help but think about how unusual you are. Not in the way you present yourself, no. The “perfect student” trope, he’s seen it a lot. People who are nice, outgoing, helpful, and so on; there’s a plethora of those. It’s about the intensity with which you fall into the archetype. The wording of every sentence you say, every move you make, the intonation of your voice -it all seems carefully planned out, programmed and running with no bugs or other disturbances.

So much that it’s unsettling.

In a way, you remind him of Karasu. You’re both rather guarded, he thinks. But the difference is there; you didn’t seem to be trying to analyze him. Sure, you asked him questions, and he answered, but you had never shown interest in digging in further. Maybe you were just being considerate? It could be. The two of you just met a few hours ago, after all, so you minding your business didn’t seem all that unreasonable.

You said you liked to play football. That’s why you came to Blue Lock. That was an unoriginal, even a little airheaded answer, considering the specific situation you all were in. Even so, Hiori has to wonder …

Ah, his name is being called.

Karasu Tabito has always known that he was a rather ordinary person, but the ranking of 252 does sting a little.

That’s probably why he’s surprised to see that you, out of all people, are carrying the highest number out of everyone in the room.

Don’t get him wrong, you had this specific, yet common, kind of charm that probably had all the girls swooning. From the way you walked, you looked, you smiled -yep, you fill all the “pretty boy” boxes.

And yet, you don’t carry yourself like someone who’s supposedly on the top of the foodchain of this small group. Most guys like you had this strong air of confidence, regardless of their disposition, yet you lacked that entirely. Not that you were cowardly either. You just struck this peculiar kind of balance that seemed in no way natural.

And such artificalness only hid weakness.

Well, finding your weak spot is just another job for the analyst.

And he is given his first clue when a blonde guy walks up to you with stars in his eyes and asks if you were the “Slumbering Angel of Chiba”.

Karasu almost laughs. What kind of cringy title was that?

You seemed to share some of his sentiment, because you look at the other like he had grown another head or said the stupidest shit possible to your face with no remorse (which he possibly did?).

Interestingly enough, you force your expression into something softer, which makes your confusion all the more clear. “I’m not sure I follow …?”

The boy then goes on to retell the story of you scoring some crazy goal against some crazy strong school, and how you stopped some crazy guy from doing just about anything the entire game and whatnot. The more he talks, the more off-balance you seem to become.

Then, at some point during his rambling, you raise your hands to stop him. “I don’t know where you got it, but … drop that title, alright? It’s misleading.”

Misleading in what way, he wonders.

The large screen suddenly flickers to life, with Ego’s ugly mug on it.

After a brief explanation of the “Dormitory test”, a ball drops right in front of Karasu, and a cartoonish icon made in his image lights up the screen, along with a timer. 2:16.

Ah, he thinks, Way to rub salt into the wound.

Of course, everyone scatters like headless flies. He has to thread this carefully. Losing his cool and randomly shooting at people with hopes of hitting someone would be as good as immediately giving up. If he wants to climb to the top, he should at least attempt to eliminate the “king of the jungle” right?

That means Mister Angel is at the top of the hitlist.

You look aware, standing in a stance which would make it easy to move around, when the time comes. There’s even a small smile pulling at your lips. And yet, you’re looking at him impassively, like he’s an actor whose performance wasn’t worth humoring.

Perhaps you weren’t as humble as you initially appeared to be?

1:47.

Shit. Karasu is wasting too much time. Still, if he tries to go after you, there’s no guarantee he’ll succeed, and that will lead to even more wasted time. You haven’t shown any of your abilities yet, so trying to go in blind is difficult.

Guess I’ll have to pick ya apart next time.

He kicks the ball.

It flies through the air, heading in the direction of the simple-minded creep, Otoya Eita.

Perhaps it was the very simple-mindedness that allowed Karasu to link up with him and make this play.

“Ooh, flashy.” He says, before kicking the ball back just as it touches his foot.

The slam of it against the face of an unfortunate victim cuts through the air.

Sone Yuto.

1:22.

The poor boy manages to barely scramble onto his feet, with his facial muscles creased in pain.

Then, begins the rather lackluster period of him trying to hit someone and failing. Karasu almost feels bad.

00:36.

With a flash of movement, against all odds, you come in.

00:29.

Karasu watches you as you watch the field. The smile nevers withers away, as you roll the leather football against the floor.

00:21.

It’s almost as if you have everyone holding their breath. Unlike earlier, now you do seem like the strongest of twelve.

00:13.

By now, most people have relaxed, perplexed by your lack of offensive movement. Karasu doesn’t give himself the pleasure. For once in his life, he can’t find anything that would offer him a glimpse into the workings of your brain.

00:09.

00:08.

00:07.

00:06.

Your smile drops, just for a moment.

00:05.

You move so suddenly it’s hard to detect at first. The ball slams against the wall and returns to you. You raise your dominant leg to welcome it, and while you’re keeping balance on the other, you rotate the upper part of your body as to relocate the trajectory of the ball and send it into the space behind you-

-Right into the torso of the boy who had approached you earlier, who was hiding in your blind spot. The impact is strong enough to force him onto his back.

00:04.

Higuchi Kouki.

00:03.

Karasu sees you whisper something to the fallen blonde, but he can’t hear what. He thinks he doesn’t want to know.

00:02.

Higuchi still isn’t getting up.

00:01.

The outcome is obvious.

00:00.

Higuchi Kouki.

LOSE.

Karasu Tabito looks at you, your trademark smile, your relaxed posture, your burning gaze, and thinks-

What a remarkable guy.

#blue lock x male reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #x male reader #anime x reader #male reader insert #male reader #reader insert #manga x reader #various x reader #once again rip to the original reonagitetsu draft i dont miss u at all #ill try to queue the rest of the chapters (if my laptop stops freezing every time i try to format these stupid posts #alien skincare posting

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toushindai · 11 months ago

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totk spoilers but are we ACTUALLY meant to think it’s poetic or flattering or triumphant that Rauru was like “oh YEAH? Well in thousands of years this guy called Link is gonna kick your ass”

How much has he even heard about Link? He must have had at least one more conversation about him with Zelda because the Master Sword doesn’t come up in the Zelda and Sonia tear, and by the King’s Duty tear Rauru’s just like oh don’t worry, if we don’t finish Ganondorf off I’m sure your bf can handle him. As I’ve said before, his “We rely on your knight” line rubbed me the wrong way starting with its appearance in the trailer, and it really does not feel less entitled after watching said knight (and that legendary sword he carries) very very VERY nearly get one-shotted by Ganondorf at the beginning of the game. And Zelda knows this! What does she feel watching her Better Dad Substitute sacrifice himself and simultaneously sic the evil bad guy on Link—a siccing which explicitly shapes Ganondorf’s attitude towards Link at the beginning of the game? At what point did she have the emotion of “welp. I know why Ganondorf knew Link’s name now.” The musical blending of the LOZ theme/hero’s theme with Rauru’s theme seems to suggest that it’s not an emotion meant to be had at exactly that moment, but I cannot watch Rauru sneer “remember that name” without yelling HE DOESN’T NEED THAT INFORMATION at the screen.

I played through the GSI in Japanese recently and Rauru did seem a touch less entitled to Link than I’ve been reading him—mostly because of the formal, polite, outgroup-equal language he used with him—but I still can’t get over the extent to which Rauru heard about Link a few times and decided, sight unseen, that he was going to clean up Rauru’s mess. My man what made you think that. What gave you the right to decide that. And how frightening to be Zelda and watch Rauru pin all the world’s hope on her beloved knight who Ganondorf absolutely fucking wiped the floor with. We see this worry in her in the Master Sword in Time cutscene! To what extent can Zelda’s transformation and before that her petition to the other tribes of Hyrule for Link’s sake be understood as a forced action due to Rauru’s conviction that Link could do this no sweat? Almost entirely, I feel—but does the game know that?

I just. Isn't it intentional? Doesn't it have to be? The fact that Rauru already needs the correction, once, that he cannot and should not face the Demon King alone. Then his melodramatic claim that Link has got this on lock. Then Zelda being like 😬 not sure about this actually and going through the whole process of talking to the ancient sages + draconifying for the sake of the Master Sword. Because Rauru absolutely set Link up to fail and Zelda is the one making sure Link has the resources, including the support of others, he needs to succeed. And the game is so much about community, about not doing things on your own.

And yet the way the scene is scored and animated and the way all the other characters talk about Rauru's sacrifice seems to treat this as a a moment of culmination, of triumph. I am getting such mixed messages here.

Understand, I’m saying all of this with an aching fondness for this poor self-deluded hypocrite. And also teeth-grinding frustration. I think he deserves to feel suffocatingly humiliated when Link almost didn’t survive Ganondorf’s attack and I also have tremendous sympathy for the shame and terror that it might be far too late to correct his mistake that he must have felt as he waited for Link to wake up. Both of those things. Hopelessly lonely man who found people to love him and built himself into a role he was never adequate for. I wish the game looked at this a little more. I wish I could tell if the game intended this at all.

(This is not the most intelligently written post but I assure you I mean every word of it.)

#totk spoilers #tears of the kingdom #totk rauru #rauru (lozbotwtotk)#tou and the tearful kingdom #bad and imperialist zonai get put in the goat wiggler #nintendo look at me. look at me. do you KNOW how interesting your character is. did you do it on PURPOSE. or am I making this UP.#I love him I hate him I am shaking his terrarium SO SO SO SO HARD every day

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risenwrites · 1 year ago

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Title: Never Again

Pairing: Yandere! Sabo X Revolutionary! Female! Reader

Warnings: Yandere themes, angst, anime spoilers under the cut, mdni

Word Count: ~1.1K

Status: Semi-Edited

When you handed the newspaper to Sabo, you thought he would react like he usually does. Glance through the articles, and then rant about how the World Government tampered with the news. Yet this time, as you watched him read the headline, you saw his eyes widen with a storm of emotions flashing across his face. It happened so fast that you couldn’t pinpoint everything he felt at that moment, but at the end of it, he seemed only to have two emotions: pain and sorrow.

You watched how his hands began shaking, and soon, his whole body trembled as he stared at the newspaper headline. Tears welled up in his eyes, and his breath caught in his throat momentarily. Slowly, he began to hyperventilate and cry while gripping the newspaper to the point it began to tear.

You and all the other revolutionaries in the room stood frozen, watching the Chief of Staff rip the newspaper in half. A loud sob tore from his throat as he reached for his head and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pulling like he intended to rip his hair out. He stumbled backward, almost falling, while moving his hands to pull his hair down over his eyes.

Panic and worry rushed through your veins as you watched Sabo begin to have a breakdown. You snapped out of whatever trance you were in to run to his side, helping him keep steady and stand. You wrapped your arm around his back to place a hand on his shoulder, then gently used your other hand to try holding one of his. He suddenly grabbed hold of your wrist, his grip tight to the point of bruising. You flinched in pain and looked at him.

“He's dead... He's dead, and I couldn't do anything to save him,” Sabo mumbled to himself, his voice shaking.

A slight frown of worry and confusion appeared on your face. You hadn't looked at the newspaper headline since you usually just gave it to Sabo, so you weren't entirely sure who he was talking about. You did know that you needed to get Sabo away from this crowd. He needed to take some time to calm down and process his emotions for a bit.

“Please make way!” you exclaimed while walking with Sabo.

The revolutionaries blocking your path parted to let you and the Chief of Staff through. You gave all of them a quick nod of thanks before leading Sabo out of the room. Once out in the hallway, the door closed behind you both. Then, without hesitation, you began leading him to the personal quarters for the revolutionary staff.

The walk to his private quarters was long, and the entire way, you listened to Sabo’s sobbing, each cry making your heart ache along with your wrist. You desperately wanted to hug and comfort your friend but figured you should wait until he wasn't so lost in his emotions. Still, to comfort him, you gently moved your hand from his shoulder to rub soothing circles on his back.

When you reach his room, you open the door and step inside. The moment you and Sabo were in his room, he suddenly collapsed to his knees, sobbing even harder than he had before, and began curling in on himself.

"He's gone... he's gone..." Sabo sobbed, letting go of his hair and covering his eyes with his free hand. "I'll never hear his voice a-again or see him smile..."

You stared down at your friend, who was still holding onto your wrist like you would disappear if he let go, and pressed your lips together. You weren't entirely sure what to do now, and you debated whether you should leave him alone or try comforting him. Eventually, you decided to leave him alone for a bit so you could get him something to drink or eat.

"Sabo," you softly said while kneeling next to him. "Can you please let go of my wrist?" you asked, expecting him to let go.

Sabo flinched slightly and slowly parted his fingers to look at you, his eyes wide and filled with an emotion you couldn't initially recognize. He stared at you for a couple of moments, his sobs and tears coming to a slow stop. His grip on your wrist suddenly tightened, and he shook his head. At that moment, something in your gut told you to get the fuck out of there. That you needed to run away and never look back.

You swallowed hard and began to stand up. "Sabo, let go of my wrist," you said, this time in a bit more harsh tone.

Immediately, Sabo pulled you back down to your knees. "I can't do that," he said while beginning to hyperventilate again.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, frustration starting to build inside you. "And why not?" you ask and begin to stand again.

Sabo's eye twitched along with his free hand as he watched you stand up. Suddenly, you felt him grab your other wrist, causing you to winch, before he began trying to wrestle you onto the floor.

"Sabo, what are you doing?! Let go of me!" you yelled, trying to pull your wrists out of his grip.

Instead of answering, he knocked your feet out from under you to pin you against the floor. You cry out in pain as the back of your head slams against the floor. Your vision quickly became blurry as you looked up at Sabo. His breathing was heavy, and you felt tears drop onto your face.

"I can't let you leave my side, Y/N," he stated with a shaky voice. "If something happened to you, I don't know what I'd do. Sure, I'd still have my little brother, but you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. To have children someday," he explained before leaning down to rest his head on your shoulder. "I want us to grow old together… but if you died like Ace did then…"

He took a deep breath like he was trying to calm himself down, but honestly, you weren't paying much attention at this point. The edges of your vision were starting to darken, and you could hear ringing in your ears. You saw him lift his head to look down at you again. The ringing in your ears made it so you couldn't hear what he was saying, but you saw panic flash across his face. The feeling of his hands holding your face kept you awake for long enough to see him continue talking, most of it going over your head since you couldn’t read his lips.

However, before the world went dark, the one thing you could make out was Sabo saying, "I love you.”

©following works belongs to risenwrites, do not repost, modify, plagiarize, translate, or share on other platforms. comments, likes, and reblogs appreciated!

#risen.writes #sabo #sabo x reader #one piece sabo #revolutionary sabo

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thesleepy1 · 2 years ago

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Bun(s) In The Oven

A/N: What am I doing instead of sleeping? A) Working, B) Writing. or C) Waking Lord Cthulhu from his slumber so that he may reclaim the throne. If you guessed B, then you’d be correct! Hahaha, I really do need sleep. And they call me the Sleepy One! Anon Requested. (Also, I haven’t had the time to sit down and watch season three yet, so please no spoilers.)

Pairings: Eskel x Reader

Summary: You were supposed to have nine months to prepare. You were counting on those nine months. You were not a procrastinator by any means, but with something as important as having a baby you were going to make good use of all the available time to prepare for the arrival of your new baby. Nine months. Not six.

Or, “Could you write something for eskel when his significant other is in labour. I don’t know if he’d be chill and prepared or in total panic mode. Either wait I’d like to read it 😂

Word count: 930

Warnings: birth?

At six months pregnant you were past the point of still coming up with names for your little one and were well into the process of setting up the nursery. In the beginning, there was fear that the baby would not survive. Miscarriages were common in the village you grew up in and a human pregnant with a witcher baby was unprecedented. Anyone pregnant with a witcher baby was unheard of. There was no way of knowing what to expect.

When you and Eskel had first learned of the little seed that was sprouting in you, you both laughed it off as some practical joke. It wasn’t until months later that you realized there was something going on. The bump proved that there wasn’t some prank being played on you. You were well and truly pregnant.

First there was denial. That was to be expected.

Then came the acceptance.

After that it was just full blown panic.

You were a bard for heaven’s sake. A baby was not on your bucket list. When you had first met Eskel and decided to tag along on his adventures, you did not realize that having a baby along the way was a part of it.

But after that…?

It was quite nice.

Sure it was unexpected and neither you nor Eskel had planned for it, but it really wasn’t a bad thing. The pregnancy didn’t stop you from doing what you loved. You still performed and sang to your heart's content. In some taverns you even made more coin. Some were from concerned onlookers and some were from others who got off at the sight of you. Either way, money was money.

And Eskel. Dear sweet Eskel. He grew to love you even more than before if that was possible. It was no worry of yours that Eskel didn’t truly love you. He showed it to you each and every day. But after the two of you had gotten over your panic, he became the most doting and kind and loving witcher possible. It could have been sickening if you didn’t enjoy every last moment of it.

So yes. You were past the point of panic and name searching. With something around thirteen more weeks to go, you were still working on adding things to the nursery. Most of the essentials were there already. Now was just time to decorate and fill the room with as many toys as you possibly can. No one was going to stop you, least of all Eskel.

If anyone were looking for the two of you, then they could find you in the nursery happily sewing up another stuffed animal or embroidering yet another piece of clothing. Eskel could be found doing the same. Despite his large frame, he had such a talent for needle work.

You were working on turning shorn wool into wool when you suddenly felt a wetness burst from you followed by intense pain. Before you realized what was going on with your body Eskel leapt up from his seat.

“I need to get a healer,” Eskel announced, his breaths coming in unevenly. “I can’t leave you here alone—someone needs to get the healer. Lambert! Geralt!”

That was another thing. Eskel’s brothers were there every step of the way. And they were going to be there for this step too, despite its premature timing.

“Are you sure? I—we still have weeks, don’t we?” you asked him, face grimacing in pain despite your disbelief. “We-we haven’t finished processing the food for stores or-or finished all the clothes—” You were cut off by an unbearable pain flaring from within. “Dear gods, heavens above. The little one is coming. The little one is coming!”

“Geralt! Lambert! Vesemir!” Eskel called out to his brothers. His voice boomed in the hallways, sounds bouncing off the stone hallways and carrying towards the other witchers in the keep. Before long, they came running to your aide.

“Healers. We need to go find a healer.” Eskel was firm. He left no room for argument. Lambert rushed out back the way he came. He was the smallest and fastest of the witchers. He would reach the town at the bottom of the mountain first and hurry back with a healer or two. Eskel had to believe that his brother would.

“Geralt,” Eskel began.

“Anything you need,” Geralt replied.

What happened next was beyond you. The pain was indescribable. You knew that you would not remember much of the process. At least, that was what the other mothers had told you. They said that the mind would forget so the body continued.

However, right there and then you were unbearably hurt. And you were vocal about it.

“Great saints above! Get—” you were screaming. It stung the witcher’s ears but you didn’t have a spare thought to care. “Get them out of me!”

“T-them?”

It was Geralt who faltered at that.

Years later you would all sit around a table topped with a hearty meal. Roasted elk, mashed sweet potatoes, and mead would be overflowing. Altina and Anna would be given cider that had not ripen into the sort that would make them dizzy and drunk. Everyone would laugh at the way that Geralt had stuttered at the prospect of two.

Eskel would laugh the loudest. For he was the proudest of the fact. He was a father of two beautiful, healthy girls and he couldn’t be happier.

No one will bring up the fact that Eskel had almost fainted when Anna's head was crowning and the healer was still twenty minutes away.

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zombryz · 1 year ago

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: ̗̀➛ Sparks and Cursed Shadows

˗ˏˋ I HOPE YOU'RE HAVING A GREAT DAY DEAR READERˎˊ˗

Chapter Two

masterlist | Previous Chapter 1 | Next Chapter 3 | ao3

Pairings: Satoru Gojo x afab!reader x Suguru Geto

A/N: I am sad for what's to come but also excited for more Suguru Geto *eyes emoji*. I loved the build-up of both relationships to see how they played out to where they are now.

Summary: Years had passed since you last saw him—the formidable sorcerer, Satoru Gojo, with his innate six eyes, your old classmate, and first love. When Suguru Geto decided to part ways with Jujutsu High and abandon sorcery altogether, you went with him, both of you unintentionally breaking Satoru's heart. Now, after years and years, your heart aches as Suguru, your now lover, succumbs to the ancient curse of Kenjaku. Suguru—no—Kenjaku threatens to kill Suguru inside of his own mind if you do not confront your once-beloved Satoru Gojo, killing him to bring balance back to the world of curses.

Warnings: (current, may change throughout the story - I will try to add them to each chapter) **Possible Anime/Manga spoilers throughout** PSTD, Death, depression, angst, possessiveness, jealousy, uneven power dynamics (obviously because Gojo is the strongest), eventual lemon/smut, slowburn, right person wrong time, friends to lovers to enemies to lovers again, touch starved, unprotected first time, virgin!reader, virgin!gojo, betrayal, switch!gojo, switch!reader, dom!suguru, porn with plot, possible pregnancy ending (undecided but will make it cute, not annoying), fuckboy!gojo, kind of poly!reader (she loves them both at the same time), gore/blood/violence scenes that will be graphic

Word Count: 14.5k

Wanna listen to what I listened to while writing this?:

youtube

Start of Tokyo Jujutsu High School Year - 2005 - First Year

You had been at the school for a few days now. No one else seemed to arrive as early as you did so you got first dibs on your bedroom as well as all the good snacks in the communal kitchen. It was quiet and you knew there weren’t going to be a lot of students so you wondered if it would always be like this. You picked the room with a sliding back door that led out to a small cherry blossom tree with a little stone bench underneath. The tree was in full bloom and you found yourself sitting out there for all hours of the day, just listening to the birds sing while you read some old books you found about reversed cursed techniques. Sadly, your family never really taught you this stuff; you were the only ‘cursed’ child and they couldn’t wait to send you off as a jujutsu sorcerer. If you were being honest with yourself you didn’t mind, it was better than being invisible to a family who wanted nothing to do with the child who obtained your great-great-great grandfather’s cursed ability. They treated him like a god and you couldn’t understand why you were shunned away. Maybe you just couldn’t fill his shoes.

The day before school started you found yourself once again sitting out at the little stone bench under the cherry blossom tree. You were reading from your book when you saw something move in front of you and that's when you first noticed that there were more rooms connected to the courtyard garden. Someone was moving behind a window directly across from your room. Your eyes curiously watched as a boy about your age walked out of his room and into the courtyard. You weren’t sure if you should say something or just keep reading. He was most likely one of your classmates and he hadn’t noticed you yet. You decided to peek over your book to get a better look at him. He was tall and lean and was dressed in all-black clothes that were not his school uniform. His pants were slightly baggy at the calves and he had shoulder-length dark brown hair that was pushed behind his ears. His eyes were dark but kind from what you could tell and he sported black circular earrings. He walked over to a small water fountain at the edge of the garden and crouched down before it. He reached his hands out to gather the water into a small pool in his palms before splashing it on his face and running the leftover water through his hair.

“What are you reading?” He speaks up now and you quickly divert your eyes to hyperfocus on the page, worried that he probably caught you staring.

“Uh-um, it’s a book about reversed cursed techniques. It’s quite interesting, I think.” You try to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“It sounds interesting.” After running his hands through the water and into his hair a couple more times he rises to his full height and makes his way over to you. As he gets closer you notice his angular jawline and perfectly straight nose. His hair was now dripping wet and you couldn’t help but think about how beautiful he was. You were suddenly very nervous in his presence. He wipes his palms on his pants to dry them and you watch as his large hand starts reaching for your book. You give it to him without even saving your page.

He scans over the back quickly before handing it back to you, his finger staying on your page to hold your spot for you. When you grab it from him your hand brushes against his making you lock eyes. His eyes were dark and borderline sensual, you were looking up at him with big doe ones. He clears his throat making you look away.

“I’m Suguru Geto, I believe we are classmates,” He takes a seat next to you on the concrete bench. You can feel his body heat surrounding you as he gets closer.

“I-I’m Y/N Kashimo, nice to meet you,” you reach your hand out for him to shake making him chuckle in response, his laugh is the most calming sound in the world. When he smiles his mouth curls up forming a small dimple to the right of his lips. You can’t help but stare at it. He then happily takes your hand and shakes it gently. His hand was cold from the fountain but you could feel the warmth of his body heat coming through.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kashimo,” he smiles politely, still holding your hand.

“Oh, you can just call me Y/N,” you realize you’re still holding his hand so you pull away first, “Most people don’t think I deserve to go by my family name.” you drift off sadly and stare at your hands in your lap.

“Well,” he goes to stand up, “in that case, you can just call me Suguru.” You suddenly feel small beneath him. He starts walking back to his room and before he walks through his door he turns around to you once more, “And we’ll see about that, I think you could make that name your own if you wanted.” He pauses before testing out your name on his lips, “See you tomorrow, Y/N.” Then he is gone as fast as he appeared. There are butterflies in your stomach that won't go away and you know you won’t be able to go back to reading so you just sigh.

Later that night

Your first-day jitters were starting to get the best of you as you lay awake in bed unable to sleep. It was about midnight when you decided to grab your robe off the back of your door and go to the communal kitchen for a glass of water. You walked down the dark halls quietly hoping not to wake anyone else. When you arrived at the kitchen on the other side of the building you avoided turning on any lights so that if someone was awake you wouldn’t have to talk to them. You quietly took out a glass from one of the cabinets and filled your cup with the water from the fridge. You shut the refrigerator and turn the corner of the kitchen to dart back to your room as quickly as you possibly can. To your surprise, you come to an abrupt and painful stop when you walk directly into what you thought was a wall causing your glass of water to go all over you. The impact causes you to fall backwards but before you hit the ground you feel a strong arm snake around your lower back to catch you.

“Hey, I’m so sorry,” He questions worriedly. You strain your eyes to see who saved you but the hallway is too dark, only the moonlight pours into the room but it is not enough to see the dark figure hovering over you. You maybe thought it was Suguru until you heard a voice coated in honey. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m the one who should be sorry, I really should've brought a flashlight.” You laugh light-heartedly.

“It’s okay, I should’ve seen you coming with my technique, you just surprised me is all.” He is still holding on to the small of your back making sure to steady you before letting go. “Oh no, you’re soaking wet, come on I’ll help you dry off” He adds in an apologetic tone leading you back to the kitchen where you were just moments ago.

He turns on some soft lighting in the kitchen instead of the bright overhead light and you finally get a good look at him. He was Satoru Gojo, you know this because your family never shuts up about him and the Gojo clan he belongs to. He supposedly carried the innate gift of the six eyes and your family had been in discussions in the past with the Gojo clan about marrying you off to him. You wonder if he knows about that. You had never met him before this very moment, he was tall and lean and his hair was white as snow. He was wearing striped pajama pants and a black t-shirt that revealed his arm muscles. You had heard that he usually wears glasses to hide his eyes but right now he wasn’t, maybe because you both were supposed to be asleep and it was late. You watched him curiously as he frantically searched for a towel of some kind. He went through several cabinets and drawers before finding the right one and pulled out a couple of towels.

“Here we go,” He turned to walk over to you. You took off your robe and were in just your big t-shirt and silk shorts that you usually sleep in. You were awkwardly leaning against the counter and were starting to get cold from being wet so you hopped on the counter to get your bare feet off the cold tile. When he got closer he took you all in just as you did with him moments ago while he was searching for something to dry you with. He hesitantly walks closer but once he’s completely invaded your space he reaches out to pull your shirt towards him, rubbing the towel into the fabric to soak up the water. “I-I’m sorry again.” He sighs.

“It’s okay, I promise,” You swung your feet next to his legs and there was an awkward but comfortable silence that fell over you as he continued to dry you off. “I-’m-” You decide that maybe you should just introduce yourself to make this whole situation less intimate.

“You’re the Kashimo girl, right?” He continues to pat the towel on your shirt, not looking at you. With you sitting on the counter you were almost the same height as him.

You huff, so he did know who you were. Your family always claims to be embarrassed of you but if you were being honest with yourself, you were embarrassed of them. Being part of the Kashimo family felt like a curse in itself. You wondered if he could relate seeing as that's how most sorcerer clans were.

“Yeah, but you can just call me Y/N. No one calls me Kashimo.” You watch the way his long fingers move the towel up and down your shirt. Your eyes travel up and to his face while he works. His lips were supple and his cheeks were a little flushed. You couldn’t help but stare at his beautiful bottom lashes that were snow white just like his hair. After a moment or two of you practically drooling over the poor boy, he looks up at you and you are finally looking into those angelic, ice-blue eyes everyone talks about. The eyes that made him so powerful. He was considered a special grade before even joining Jujutsu Tech. You bet he could snap you like a twig in this very kitchen if he so wanted. The thought made you breathless and sent a chill down your spine.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, just staring into each other's eyes. Until he finally spoke up, “I’m Satoru Gojo by the way,” he practically yelled in excitement until he realized that other people were sleeping just down the hall. You could’ve sworn that his smile was even brighter than his eyes. You couldn’t help but giggle at him and his face became even more flush than before. “Seeing how I spilled water all over you, I think it's only fair that you call me by my first name as well.” He lowers his voice and naturally closes the space even more to be quiet. Your breath hitches in your throat.

“Hmmm, Satoru,” you hum his name and his ears perk up. “I think I might’ve spilled water on you too.” You point at his abdomen where there is water all over his nice black shirt. You slowly take the towel from his hand and hop off the counter. “Here, let me.” You twist under his arm and face now he is the one leaning against the counter. He turns towards you slightly and allows you to dab his shirt the same way he dried yours.

“So, uh, is it true you’re like,” he makes a funny little gesture with his hands and makes a weird noise to mimic an electricity zap, “Sparky?” He asks, making a silly face; almost like he is embarrassed by the way he just said that.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that.” You giggle and your eyes meet his once more making your heart skip a beat with how he was looking down at you. “I-Is it true you can fly?” You were only half serious, after learning about reversed cursed techniques and the capabilities that Satoru has, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could fly. Plus, that was one of the reasons why your family liked him so much, because he was a very very strong ally to have. How much closer than being married into the family could he get?

Satoru laughs and brings his hand up to his face to cover his smile so he wouldn’t be too loud. “Is that what they’re saying about me nowadays?” You stopped drying his shirt but didn’t pull away from how close you were to him. “I gotta give it to the other clan members, they’re usually right about what I can and can’t do. If they believe I can fly, I should probably start training.”

Your voice was quiet now that he struck something in common with you, “D-Do you always listen to your clan elders?” You begin messing with the fabric on his shirt mindlessly.

“Nah, fuck that.” He says gaining a sudden sort of confidence on the subject. His muscles tense beneath you causing you to let go of his shirt. “Why, do you?”

“They once told me that I was to be married to you.” Your voice is barely above a whisper and you look at him once more to gauge his reaction. For some reason, you wanted to know if he had been told that too.

“Oh?” He scoffs. “Sorry,” he pauses for a lot longer than you thought he would, “it’s just, you’re not the first girl my family has tried to marry off to me.” His voice lowers as he says this.

“Oh, I see,” Your chest tightens and you’re not sure why. So there were other powerful girls his family wanted him to be with? You suppose it made sense.

“N-Not that I wouldn’t, I’m just not too keen on marrying a total stranger,” he pedals back after seeing what he thinks is disappointment on your face.

“Oh, no, don’t worry, me either!” You step back a little trying to signal that you weren’t trying to come off upset about his reaction. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to marry a sorcerer. You’re only here to become greater than your great-great-great grandfather to prove to your family that you’re not a disappointment and then leave sorcery behind and live a normal life.

“I just feel like we should have a choice.” He fixes his posture and stares at you once more with his achingly blue eyes.

“I agree, we should.” You realize it has to be getting late now and your mind starts racing about your family and how you officially start training tomorrow and want to surpass your great-great-great grandfather as soon as possible, “Let’s not get married then. Just to spite our families.” You hold out your pinky to him and he looks at you with furrowed brows and a small frown but you don’t read into it. He hesitates but ends up intertwining his pinky with yours anyway, ultimately making a pinky promise he doesn’t fully want to make. “I really should be going to sleep now. Goodnight Satoru!” You grab your robe off the counter and leave him in at the kitchen island, alone.

“Goodnight, Sparky.” He looks down at his pinky after you are gone and his lips form a tight line. Why did he just do that?

Later in the year

During your first year, you became closer to both Suguru and Satoru and learned they had met during the summer and had already become very close friends. You also met your other classmate, Shoko, whom you adored. She was always offering you cigarettes or a swig out of her flask. You gave in every once and a while making Satoru get on to you, Suguru never did though; he would partake most of the time, unlike you and Satoru. It was the four of you, always together. You received your uniform which had been customized by your family, it was the lady's version of the uniform just all white to match. You were sent on your first mission together. You learned to fight cursed spirits together and you were sometimes even given lower grade missions with just a single partner. There were multiple instances where you were partnered up with Satoru, Suguru, or sometimes Shoko. They had become your best friends.

After a while, you realize that to everyone else Satoru was just a spoiled rich boy who was full of himself but everyone loved him anyway. Suguru was kind-hearted but stern and came from a broken family of non-sorcerers, he had been scouted to come to Jujutsu Tech. Lastly, Shoko was kind of a mystery, no one knew where she came from or about her past since she didn’t talk about it much. You didn’t mind really, the less you had to talk about your family the better. She was very similar to you in that sense.

During most of the school year, you would meet up with Suguru after school in the courtyard garden between your rooms. It was mostly to vent about your day or just to read to him. You weren’t sure why, but when you read to him on the concrete bench beneath the cherry blossom tree, he liked it. You enjoyed it too. Sometimes even Satoru and Shoko would join you and you would read to all of them, sharing your findings. Both you and Shoko tried to explain the reversed cursed technique to them but you don’t think it registered.

One day, when the seasons started to change you remember reading a romantic novel about a princess and a knight in shining armor. Suguru would never admit it but you knew he liked it because he kept coming back to hear the rest of the story. Suguru was sitting on the bench above you staring at the way the wind flowed through the trees making all the little leaves dance and sway to the rhythm. You sat on the ground beneath him reading the final chapters of the romance novel. His hair was starting to grow out and you liked it when he wore it down instead of his normal bun look. A couple of sakura leaves kept falling on your book obstructing the writing on the pages so you kept running your fingers over it to push them off and continue reading. It was as if he could tell you were getting frustrated because he caught one of the leaves and leaned over to gently place it behind your ear. You stopped reading and reached behind your ear to feel for the flower. You then turned to him smiling, your cheeks as pink as the tree, “What was that for?” you hum in a sweet but questioning voice.

“Come here, dance with me.” He suddenly gets up and extends his arm out to help you up. The sun was starting to set, soon you wouldn’t have any more light to read anyway.

“There isn’t any music playing,” You raise your eyebrow at him, place the book down on the bench, but reach for his hand anyway. He helps you to your feet and places a hand on the small of your back. You position your feet and then he leads with a slow ballroom dance.

“We don’t need music, the trees are singing to us, you just have to listen,” He looks up at the tree and you don’t immediately follow his line of sight, instead you watch his Adam's apple move up as your eyes follow the shape of his jaw. He was so beautiful. After a moment you look up and watch the trees with him. You’re giggling now which makes him pick up the pace causing you both to dance extremely fast.

“Suguru! Slow down, you’re going too fast I can’t keep up.” You laugh hysterically and your hair flows in the wind as he releases you into a quick spin while holding your hand. He then spins you right back into his body and leads you into a low dip with his large hand supporting your lower back. You let your head hang with your arms stretched behind you. Suddenly you feel so free like you didn’t have a care in the world. You were smiling ear to ear and it was Suguru’s turn to look at you, his eyes following your smile to your chin, your neckline, your collar bones, and then down to the way your uniform hugs around your chest perfectly supporting your breasts -- He shakes his thoughts and lifts you back up. You were so beautiful to him.

You’re smiling as you lay your head on his chest and you both fall into a slow sway that matches the pace of his slowing heartbeat. When you looked up at him he was already looking down at you, his deep brown eyes were heavy, and stared at you with a sort of longing that you hadn’t seen on him before.

“Thanks,” You rest your chin on his chest to look up at him through your dark eyelashes. You move your arms around his hips and hug him tightly, “I needed that after all these really dark missions.” He was looking down at you and because he was taller than you, his arms were resting just underneath your shoulders.

He brings his arms up slowly and cups your face gently caressing your cheek on the same side he had placed the flower on. Your heart begins to race in anticipation. What was he doing? He lowers his head as slow as he possibly could allowing you to push him away if he had the wrong idea. His bangs fell to the sides of his face and his lips were now hovering over yours. You could feel every little breath he took. You were practically begging him to crash his lips into yours. Finally, after a few moments of harmless teasing, his lips were on yours. They were warm and his kisses were slow and sensual. You kissed him back harder and hungrier. After you both fell into a comfortable pace, you began to nip at his bottom lip while he ran his tongue over yours. You moved your hands from the small of his back and used one to steady yourself using his hip while the other one started playing with the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved down your cheek while your face fell limp into his hand he kissed down your neck and nipped at your collar bone eliciting a small gasp from you. He must’ve liked it because you could feel him smiling into your neck. You finally gave in to your hand's curiosity and placed a palm underneath his shirt. You ran your hand up his abs and could feel the chills you were causing him. He moved his mouth off your neck and crashed his lips into yours once again, this time he was the hungry one. He ran his fingers through your hair as he cupped your cheeks again.

“Y/N Kashimo and Satoru Gojo, please come to my office.” Principal Yaga’s voice comes through a loudspeaker making you jump into Suguru’s arms. He wrapped himself around you in a protective motion.

After the loudspeaker shuts off you both just laugh loudly. The awkwardness of the moment finally settled in, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Maybe it was the book?” Suguru rubs the back of his neck and you let go of him.

“That’s okay, I guess I should go see what Principal Yaga wants…” You grab the book before turning to face him, “We uh, don’t have to talk about what just happened if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, okay.” Suguru detests silently. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow Sugu!” You smile sweetly at him and wave before stepping back into your room.

In Principal Yaga’s office

“I’ve asked you both here because you have been invited to join the Gojo clan's annual holiday dinner with the clan elders.” Principal Yaga explains causing you to look at Satoru with furrowed brows questioning across the room whether or not he knew about this. His eyes said no. “They are hoping to convince you both to get married next spring for the sake of the clans. I’m so sorry.” He sighs and holds his hands together, “You both leave for the countryside tomorrow morning. If neither of you have anything to say then you’re dismissed.”

You and Satoru stand up to leave, walking back to your rooms on the other side of the school. You walk together in silence for a minute or two before finally speaking up.

“There's no way to get out of this is there?” You sigh and run your fingers through your hair. You bring your fingers to your lips, the feeling of Suguru still fresh.

“Nope, I don’t think so.” He stops in the middle of the hallway making you come to a stop to turn around and face him.

“What’s wrong Satoru?” You ask sadly closing the distance between you a bit.

“I’m just sorry this is happening, for what it’s worth…” He pauses shaking his head before deciding not to say the second part. “Never mind.”

“No, C’mon, now you have to say it.” you playfully nudge him with your elbow. You’re smiling at him but his mind is somewhere else. You walk closer to him and nudge him again playfully, “Satoru?” You were beginning to worry now.

He is suddenly knocked out of his trance, “I-I was just going to say, for what it's worth if I have to marry someone I’m glad it’s you and not some stranger.” He sends you a pitiful smile and rubs the back of his head.

“Heyyy,” you start with a giggle, “what about our pinky promise, huh?” You hold out your pinky as if that would help jog his memory. You made that promise months ago now.

He’s almost inclined to say ‘What promise?’ but he doesn’t, instead he stays silent.

“Okay fine, our promise can be annulled but only if we make another promise to each other.” You start walking again casually skipping before turning around to see if he is following and he is. He follows behind like a little puppy. His eyes are covered with his dark circular glasses but you know he was looking at you as he trails behind with his hands in his pockets.

“Oh yeah, what promise?” He was intrigued now. Did this mean you wouldn’t mind marrying him if it came down to it?

You invade his space by shoving your pinky back in his face. You’re shorter than him by a little over a foot so he towers over you. He tilts his head down allowing you to see his eyes which flicker to your lips before looking up at your pinky finger. You suddenly feel nervous under his gaze. “We have to promise to each other that we will never marry someone we don’t want to marry.” You gulp when he doesn’t immediately respond. It was always like this, you would approach him with a certain confidence but he always managed to squash it and make you feel smaller than you were. Maybe it was just his dominating energy, you weren’t sure. He just really managed to bring out your submissive side. Now you were the little puppy.

“Okay deal.” He flashes his signature Satoru Gojo smirk before he intertwines his pinky with yours and you notice that his hands have gotten a little bigger since the last time he touched you like this. The year was almost over and you both had been through so many tough missions together as first years. You were extremely lucky to have been partnered up with him and Suguru most of the time. They both guarded you but you always tried to stay on their level.

“Wait! I have an idea that could get us out of this!” You let go of his pinky and jump a little in excitement, “What if we tell the elders that I’m with Suguru? You could tell them I’m off limits.” You clap a little and spin around as you both continue walking back to your rooms. You were both now standing where you first met, in front of the communal kitchen.

“A-Are you with Suguru?” His chest tightens. He remembers only hours ago - no, could it be? When did that happen? Why didn’t Suguru tell him he liked you? Why didn’t he tell Suguru he liked you first?

“N-No, well, not really, I don’t think so.” You answer truthfully. You haven’t had a chance to process what happened earlier. You remember what you said about not having to talk about it and Suguru agreed so, “No.” You solidify your answer.

Satoru releases the breath he was holding but his heart sinks a little not sure how to understand your response so he decides to poke at you for clarity. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this, after all, it’s just hurting him, “Do you like him?”

“Um, I’m not sure…” You put your arms behind your back and walk slower pondering the idea of you and Suguru. “I think we just got carried away listening to the romance story in my book.” You finally analyze it and conclude that that's all it was. All it had to be.

“I see, well I’m always here if you want to talk. We can try your idea with the elders if you want…” Satoru brings his hand to the top of your head and roughs up your hair, he just likes seeing the sparks your cursed energy creates. You shoo him away and he laughs, “I just want you to be happy, okay?” He sighs sweetly.

“Okay.” You smile up at him with his hand still on your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Satoru.” You notice you’re close to your room now.

“See you tomorrow, Sparky!” He gives you a silly salute and turns on his heel to leave you.

“You know I hate when you call me that.” You frown at him before opening your door.

“Yeah, I know.” He puts his hands back into his pockets and continues walking down the hall to his room.

The next day

You and Satoru left first thing in the morning when the winter air was finally setting in. You looked out your window at the cherry blossom tree you and Suguru had shared a kiss at the night before and noticed a lot of the leaves were gone now. When you looked over at his window, part of you had hoped he would come out and say goodbye but sadly, he didn’t. The air looked a little grey but you didn’t mind. You put on your ‘out of school clothes’ which consisted of a brown knitted sweater, warm leggings, and black boots. Today was your travel day after all, you packed nice attire for the rest of the week.

You met with Satoru at the entrance to the school where a car would bring you both to the train station. When you saw him standing under the school’s torii your heart skipped a beat. He was dressed in a white hoodie paired with a jean jacket and black sweats. His hair was messy and he looked like he had just rolled out of bed. You could see your breath as you called out to him. Your nose was turning pink from the crispy cool air. The wind was making it even chillier.

“Good morning, Y/N.” His morning voice was sleepy and raspy and you weren’t expecting it. “Ready to go?” His voice comes out even deeper than before making your heart flutter.

“Mhm,” You didn’t know how to respond and your words weren’t quite working. He then took your suitcase from you, lifting it as if it were nothing, and handed it to the driver.

The drive to the train station was long and boring. The only entertainment you had was watching Satoru sleep against the car window. It was the most peaceful you’d ever seen him and his nose exhales fogged up the window. You couldn’t help but think how cute he was.

The train ride was even longer than the car ride. You both alternated falling asleep on each other's shoulders. At one point your head was on Satoru’s shoulder while his head laid on yours. When someone coughed you both jumped apologizing that you were so close to one another only to fall asleep on each other once again.

When you had arrived at the Gojo manor you were blown away by how big it was. You knew it would be but for some reason you were still shocked. It was mostly laid out in traditional Japanese and was surrounded by gardens on either side. The winter air started killing most of the plants but you could tell it was probably a magical sight during the summer. It was gorgeous and you couldn’t believe that Satoru grew up here, part of you was jealous. Flurries were starting to fall in Tokyo and the Gojo clan had already started setting up for the annual winter dinner. There were warm string lights all over the main house and anywhere you looked there were poinsettia flowers. Everything about the Gojo manor was elegant and it made you feel a little underwhelming, especially since they wanted you to be married into the family. You were starting to regret your choice in lying to them about being with Suguru.

“You two will be sharing Satoru’s old room.” The butler who was carrying both yours and Satoru’s suitcases announced once you entered the main corridor of the house.

“W-we’re sharing a room?” Your voice cracks a little. Why were you suddenly very anxious?

“Why?” Satoru chimed in, his voice coming out much more stern than yours.

“It was your grandmother who insisted, sir. She said a couple to be wed should bed together.’” The butler replied without looking back at the two of you. You shot Satoru a worried glance and he went to speak up once more in your defense.

“Doesn’t that seem like… bad luck? Please tell grand-moth-” Saturo begins with an awkward scoff but the butler cuts him off.

“She was very insistent, sir, if you wish to go against her please leave me out of it. Plus, if you must know, all the guest rooms were taken by other clan members who are traveling in for the occasion.” He guides you both into what you assume is Satoru’s bedroom and lays your suitcases on a long entryway table before bowing and leaving you both alone.

“Umm,” You try to say something but you’re too nervous to look up at him or look around the room.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know why they’re being like this.” He walks over to you to urge you to look up at him and you do. He reaches up to take his glasses off, he must take them off when he’s home. You know he's usually very sensitive to the light but his room was dark, the walls painted black for that very reason. His eyes look genuine and your breath calms. “Tonight we’ll tell them about you and Suguru and demand they give you a different room. If they don’t I’ll sleep in the grand living room.” You appreciate how sincere he is being, you have to giggle a little at just how rich he is.

You finally look around the room. His bedroom was very sleek and fit his personality perfectly. He had a silk, all-black king bed in the back of the room across from a white-bricked fireplace with a red and black seating area. There was a huge white tiled bathroom connected to the front of the room. When your eyes followed the wall you noticed a grand, partially stained glass window with long curtains that wrapped around a cozy little circular day bed tucked into it. His room felt about the size of the communal kitchen back at Jujutsu Tech.

“It’s okay Satoru, if they don’t listen to us about me being with Suguru then I can just sleep on the day bed.” You smile up at him sweetly and point over to the window.

“I wouldn’t make you do that, you can take my bed and I’ll sleep over there.” He huffs and walks over to the daybed, plopping right onto it as if he is trying to become acquainted with it already. He was being such a sweetheart, it was very out of character for his goofy self.

“Are you kidding? You’re so big your feet would just hang off.” You laugh into your hand before he shoots you an offended look.

“What? No, I’m not! Look!” He scoots up onto the bed and it’s exactly what you thought would happen, his feet were dangling off at the end. The sight just makes you laugh even harder.

“S‘toru it’s okay, really.” You wipe a stray tear from your eye from the scene laid out before you. His goofiness mixed with your exhaustedness was starting to get to you. You walk over to him slowly and lay your purse on the bed next to him. He shifts beneath you, manspreading a little while staring up at you with those gorgeous cerulean eyes of his. The air shifts and you’re almost tempted to crawl on top of him. God, what was going on with you lately? First Suguru, now Satoru? You weren’t even sure if Satoru liked you like that. You weren’t even sure if you liked him like that. While you’re at it, you weren’t even sure if Suguru liked you like that. Was there just something in the air? Plus, this was exactly how you shouldn’t be acting at the Gojo manor, or else they might want you two together even more.

“Okay fine, you’re lucky you have short legs, Sparky.” Satoru leans back on his palms while you stand above him. His eyes rake over your body, stopping on your hips. You wondered if he forgot he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Did he always look at you like this? You would usually call him out for the terrible nickname but this time you allow it. You’re suddenly very shy under his gaze, this has become a normal occurrence for you lately. You instinctively move your arms behind your back as if to show him more of your body. Your eyes flick from his eyes down to his soft, pink lips making you lick yours a little. The tension was causing heat to bubble up inside you. One more second of him looking at you like that and ---

Suddenly there was a knock at the door making you both jump out of whatever trance you were in. It was a different butler than before. God, how many butlers did they have?

“The sun is beginning to set. Dinner is in an hour, sir.”

You both acknowledge the butler and you step back from Satoru disregarding whatever was just happening between you before.

“Okay, I guess I’ll get ready now.” You push your hair behind your ear and face away from him walking toward your suitcase. When you bend over to grab it you hear Satoru jump up.

“Same here, I call the shower first!” Satoru yells and rushes over to the bathroom making your eyebrows furrow in confusion, he must’ve really wanted to shower. You giggle.

Later that evening - Dinner

It was dark outside now and you could hear the wind blow against the windows. There was soft jazz playing from somewhere in the house and you and Satoru were waiting outside the dining hall waiting to be allowed to enter. A butler was standing near the door and you two have been the only two on this side for a couple of minutes now.

“Satoru, I’m nervous.” You rub your clammy palms on your nice, fancy dress. Your family made sure that you brought it. Somehow you felt set up. You didn’t mind, the dress was a burgundy velvet off-the-shoulder maxi dress with a slit in your thigh. You paired it with black heels that brought your height a little closer to Satoru’s, which of course he commented on. You pulled your hair back in a tight low pony and put on some dark red lipstick. Satoru watched you silently the whole time you put on your makeup since he was the first one to be ready.

“Don’t be, you look beautiful.” Satoru’s eyes trail down your body for the second time that night and this time you feel a little more confident. He brings his hand up to your head and you flinch, ducking away from him. You know exactly what he is trying to do.

“Don’t you dare ruin my hair Satoru Gojo, or you will feel my wrath.” You point your finger at him playfully and threaten to shock him with your cursed energy but as he tries his best to avoid your fingertips he almost knocks over a vase that looks like it could buy the entire Jujutsu High School building. His smile grows bigger and he bites his lip playfully. He loved getting under your skin.

You started to chase him down with your hand reaching out for him, small bursts of electricity were escaping your fingertips. Both of you were laughing like crazy and then suddenly Satoru turned around and started chasing you to reverse the roles. Oh shit, you were in trouble now. You tried to run in your heels but you kept tripping which only made you both laugh harder. You knew that once he does a flicking motion you were fucking done for. He would hollow purple your ass. He finally caught up to you and you were already so defeated, leaning over with your hands on your knees and out of breath. He then playfully flicks you on the forehead and helps you to your feet. You were both turned around when you heard a woman clear her throat behind you. Satoru turns around first and you have a feeling you already knew who it was.

“Well, it seems you two were a good match after all.” An older woman who you assume is Satoru’s grandmother says bluntly. She is very short and has solid white hair just like Satoru’s. She appeared to be blind and carried a walking stick. How did she even see you together? Maybe she heard you and Satoru goofing around?

“Good evening, Grandmother.” Satoru suddenly became very formal and hurried over to hug her. Her face lit up with a smile as he bent over to her level and you couldn’t help but think their interaction was precious.

“And you must be the Kashimo girl, Y/N, was it?” She slowly waddles over to you and you flash her a big pearly smile. She grabs your hand and looks directly at you. When you glance into her eyes you notice only one of her eyes was glazed over. So she wasn’t blind like you originally thought.

“Yes ma’am.” You smile and cradle her small hand in both of yours. She was cold and you felt the need to warm her up.

“Such a beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” She says as she slips her hand from your grasp, making her way toward the big wooden door. The butler leaves his position to open the door for the lady of the house. “Let’s eat, shall we?” She says giddily.

Your face was flushed, you had noticed Satoru was staring at you the whole time you were speaking to his grandmother. When you look over at him his head is bowed and his cheeks are crimson. It was quite the contrast to his colder features. He gestures for you to walk in first and so you do. His grandmother has you both take a seat across from each other. The table seated twelve and you were placed right next to his grandmother. After a couple of minutes, more and more white-haired clan members poured in until all twelve had been seated. It dawned on you that you were the only non-gojo clan member there. Why did the Gojo clan want to marry off their strongest member? What did they gain from that? Maybe even stronger sorcerers? You were finally starting to question their motives.

Dinner was served as a five-course meal. It started with sakizuke or rather, one-bite appetizers. Then went into plum wine and palate-cleaning soup. Next was otsukuri with a special dipping sauce followed by traditional Japanese rice and vegetables.

You were starting to think the conversation about you and Satoru getting married would never come and part of you was relieved. You had caught Satoru staring at you multiple times throughout dinner. His eyelids were heavy and you knew he was probably just really tired from traveling and moving non-stop, it had been a very long day. At one point he even gave you a worried look to which you smiled sweetly at him and you could visibly see his relief as he went to drink his water. It was easy for you both to communicate with each other with just your eyes. You wished he wouldn’t wear his glasses back at school as much as he did. However, whenever he wanted to speak to you from across the room at school he would usually lower them for you to see him. Somehow you felt closer to him here, away from everything else.

The staff doors open knocking you out of your thoughts. The kitchen staff went around the table placing a little dessert dish in front of everyone. Finally, the dinner was almost over. You took your spoon to dive into the little chocolate dish and --

“Oh, Satoru,” His grandmother requests his attention in a sing-song voice and your heart sinks to the floor. Here we go. He hums in response, his mouth full of chocolate. His hair was messily swept back and starting to get a little unruly. He looked quite handsome tonight in his all-black suit. His eyes dart to you before they return to his grandmother. “As you know, the Gojo clan and the Kashimo clan have agreed to an alliance through a wedding of both of their strongest members.” She gestures to you and then back to him. “This would mean the two of you would be wed spring of next year.” A silence fell over everyone as she spoke directly to you and her grandson. “Then Y/N will be expected to bear a child within two years of the agreed marriage as to solidify the alliance with a child of Gojo and Kashimo blood.” You nearly spit out your water coughing a bit at her bluntness. You find it extremely hard to look at either of them.

“Grandmother, about that,” Satoru removes his dinner napkin from his lap and clears his throat, “Y/N is in a relationship with my closest friend, Suguru Geto.” The light in his eyes disappears and he doesn’t look at you when he says this. Your chest tightens and your eyebrows knit together with a bit of sadness. But you didn’t know why.

“I see.” His grandmother replies calmly. “Well, I don’t know about you but believe it or not I do believe in love.” She pauses before speaking again, everyone at the dinner table falls into conversations among each other again making this a little more bearable. “I saw you two together earlier, and you have never once behaved this well at a family event Satoru.” She chuckles a bit. Your eyes shoot Satoru a questioning look and he looks at you equally confused. “Whether you see it or not, this girl calms you.” She grabs your hand this time, “It’s decided then. We’ll give you both an additional year. The spring after next is when you are to be wed. I do not think this relationship of hers will last the year.” She smiles at you in a weird condescending way, pleased with her decision. You, however, were not sure how to feel. What if you were in a relationship with Suguru? Your lips were parted and you were fidgeting with your dress.

After dinner, everyone shuffled out of the dining room and you were still sitting in your dinner seat. You grabbed the bottle of sake on the table and took two shots of it before Satoru walked over to you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I know this isn’t what you want.” Satoru’s voice is soft as he kneels in front of you and grabs the sake bottle from your hand, his knuckles running over yours gently. He then proceeds to take a shot himself. Surprisingly, you had never seen him drink before, not even all the times Shoko offered him something from her flask. “Don’t worry, I’ll never allow the wedding to go through.” He clenches his jaw. You wonder if he would really defy the Gojo clan just for your happiness.

“Are you okay?” You take the sake back from him and place it on the table so that way you both would be done drinking. He doesn’t answer you right away so you ruffle his hair like he always does to you trying to lighten the mood. His signature smile peaks through and your heart skips a beat.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired.” He answers honestly. His eyes were even heavier than earlier.

“Let’s go to bed then.” You run your hand down your thigh slowly to grab his hand which was a mere inches away from you. When you stand up you pull him with you and he groans. “You’re going to have to lead though, I don’t remember where your room is.” You giggle sweetly, feeling the sake shots you had hit you all at once.

Satoru groans again and stares up at the ceiling before spinning and laughing as he sweeps you off your feet one-handed, dragging you down the hallway with him. You were laughing as your heels kept falling off and he had to keep picking them up for you. He was so strong. He had the reputation for being the strongest but you didn’t know that came with physical strength too. You almost felt weightless as he carried you down the hallway. You stared at the beautifully designed ceiling and let your arms fall back a little in his embrace.

Once you both arrived at his room he let you change first. You removed your makeup, took down your hair, and brushed it before bed. You then changed into a button-up silk pajama set that your family also conveniently packed for you. By the time Satoru was out of the bathroom you were already fast asleep in the day bed next to the window. He scoffs a little and contemplates moving you to his bed so you’d be more comfortable but he doesn’t. He watches your face curiously before he gets in bed himself. Your lips were parted sweetly and you looked so innocent. Your hair was splayed out on the pillow behind you and you used one of your hands as an extension of your pillow. He watched as your abdomen rose and fell to the pace of your breath. His eyes shift to your belly button which is only being shown because the last button on your shirt came undone. He moves your blanket up a little to cover you and he diverts his eyes as his face turns beat red for the millionth time that night. He imagines how soft you are and wants more than anything to hold you in his arms and to coo you to sleep. Instead, he walks over to his bed and tries his hardest to not think about you being in his childhood bedroom.

---

A loud crashing sound jolts you awake. Your heart is racing and when you look around it takes you a second to remember you’re at the Gojo estate and in Satoru’s room. You look over and see him lying in his giant bed, literally fit for a king. There is a tuft of white hair sticking out of the blankets and you wonder if the thunder woke him up too.

“S-Satoru?” You whisper yell across the room, suddenly you were a little worried to be sleeping next to a window during a storm.

“What is it sparky?” He grumbles, his voice raspier than ever.

“U-um, I-” Why were you even calling out to him? You had no idea and now you didn’t know what to say. “Nothing, I’m sorry.” You lay your head back on the pillow, heart still racing.

Satoru doesn’t say anything, instead you hear the blankets shuffling beneath him. He then lifts the black feather comforter from his body and approaches you slowly and quietly. The lightning from the storm illuminates his room for a brief moment and you watch him get closer and closer to you. You were splayed out on the bed and staring up at his dark figure. Once he was close enough, he sat on the ground next to you and laid his head on the mattress next to your arm. It was dark but you could still see the contrast of his hair and his bright eyes. Between the lightning and the courtyard lights outside, you were still able to see parts of his face.

“What’s wrong? I can hear your heart racing from over there.” He whispers gently and you tilt your head to look at him more. He can hear you from that far away? Maybe it was his six eyes.

“Nothing, It’s stupid, I’m just afraid of storms.” You tug the blanket up a little and turn your body towards him to lay on your side.

“Y/N, the great-great-great granddaughter of the god of lightning is afraid of storms?” Satoru’s normal voice is coming back a bit as he sits up to tease you. You watch as his Adam’s apple rises when he laughs.

“Hey it’s not the lightning, it’s the thunder that scares me.” You pout a little and he digresses by shooting his arms up in surrender.

“Okay, okay.” Satoru hums as he lays his head back down, this time much closer to your hand. You take the opportunity to play with the ends of his hair. The strands between your fingers were so soft.

“Can you distract me?” Your eyes land on his and your heart finally calms. It felt like he was staring into your soul, as its protector. There was that dominant way about him.

There is a comfortable silence as he thinks of something to talk about. He shifts his body to face away from you as he asks this. His back is against the bed and he wraps his arms around his knees.

“If you ever did decide to get married, on your own accord of course,” He almost instantly regrets asking but he continues anyway, “What kind of man do you want to marry?”

You look up at the ceiling, the question is a good one but very complicated, “I’ve never really thought about it before.” You took a deep breath before continuing, “I suppose if I had the choice, I would marry a nice ordinary man who loved me unconditionally and we would get a small farmhouse far enough away from the sorcerer life that was chosen for me. We would have two, no, three kids and they would all get the choice that I didn’t get. They would be able to choose what they did with their cursed techniques.” You smiled, “Oh, and when there are storms like these my husband would hold me close and cover my ears for me, his only power being able to close me off from the world around me when it gets too scary.”

Satoru fiddles with his thumbs and his mind repeats the words ‘ordinary man’ over and over again. He had never been so jealous of a non-jujutsu sorcerer in his entire life, until now. He was the strongest and now he wished more than anything that he wasn’t. “But,” He pauses, “Suguru isn’t an ordinary man,” He starts and you freeze, finally thinking about what happened last time you saw Suguru. It was hard to think about with the storm.

“Yeah, I know.” You huff out, not sure what he’s getting at. “I-”

Satoru cuts you off, “I saw you two dancing, under the cherry tree.” His chest tightens as he says this.

You’re not sure how much he saw so you tread carefully. “He was just trying to cheer me up. I was… frustrated.”

“Frustrated?” Satoru repeats questioningly, finally looking at you again. He wasn’t asking but he wondered what you meant by that, his mind could only go to one thing. Sexually. He looks away with a tight lip, his fists balling a little.

Satoru goes silent and you watch as if you could see the gears in his head spin. He thinks about Suguru. What if Suguru wasn’t just being friendly? He only saw you both dancing, he walked away a few minutes before the announcement to go to Principal Yaga’s office. It could’ve been friendly but what if it wasn’t? Is he unintentionally ruining something the two of you have? He worries about whether or not he is being a bad friend to Suguru. How could he deny you though, if you asked Satoru to, he would take you right now. You were so sweet and in his childhood bedroom. How could he not? Does that make him an asshole? He doesn’t know. What if --

“Satoruuu,” You practically pur out his name. He finally gives you his full attention, laying his head back on the mattress, his achingly beautiful eyes laced with a pang of sadness you’re starting to understand. “Your distraction didn’t work.” You were shaking a little as another crack of thunder shook the estate. Satoru’s heart is now the one racing. He knew exactly what to do but something was keeping him from doing it. Maybe it was the possibility that his best friend liked you too, even though he never told him that he did. Fuck it.

Satoru raises to his full height and hovers above you for what seems like hours before he finally makes his decision.

“Scoot over, Sparky.” He takes the edge of the blanket and lifts it just enough for him to slide in. You obey and slide closer to the window. “Here, let me take the window side so you’re not next to the storm.” He holds himself up to crawl over you and for half a second you are pinned beneath him, both of you holding your breath and looking away as soon as your eyes meet. His head hits the other pillow and now you’re both facing each other. “Okay, come here.” He situates himself in a comfortable position and reaches his arms out to you. You scoot closer to him and his right arm slides under you to grab your waist and to pull you even closer. His left hand wraps around your head, shielding your ears from the storm as he pulls you into his chest. You’re face to face with his neck so you give in and rest your forehead between his collarbones. You feel his chin take its place on top of your head. It was so comfortable being in his arms, he was warm and his steady breathing made your eyes get heavier with sleep. You were fading out until a loud crack made you stiffen your body again.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He shushes you, whispering into your hair. You could feel the vibration of his voice through his chest and it was oddly even more comforting. He smelled so good, fresh, like berry sake and expensive cologne. The hand around your ear started scrunching into your temples as he scratched your head softly, running his fingers through your hair. You felt his chin move down so that both his lips and nose were now on the top of your head. He inhaled deeply and the fingers in your hair got tighter, he was nearly pulling the strands of hair behind your ears, the motion felt… desperate.

“Satoru,” still in his embrace you lift your head to look at him, shooting him your doe-eyed look he always managed to get out of you. His eyebrows knit together in question as his eyes meet with yours, curious as to what was bothering you now. Your head was still cupped in his big hand, his cheeks were flushed and looked so soft. You wanted to kiss him, badly, anywhere you could. Your eyes flicker to his lips and then back to his cerulean eyes that you loved the moment you first saw him. He looked so innocent and sweet like this, not like the dangerous sorcerer everyone made him out to be. It was the most vulnerable either of you had ever been with one another. You moved up a little so that you are now face to face with him. You lean in closer and he closes his eyes once the tip of your noses touche. His breath hitches and so does yours. Your right hand finds his jaw and you gently rub your thumb over his cheek, it is so soft and warm to the touch. Your foreheads touch and you’re so close to kissing him that you start to rub your thighs together in desperation. He moves his hand from cupping your cheek to gently rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. You squirm a little as you’re itching to get even closer but both of you are too nervous to make the first move. You’re practically breathing each other in, your lips a mere inch away. Satoru uses his thumb on your bottom lip to guide your lips to his slowly. As soon as your lips meet his, he moves his hand back to cupping your face. His kisses were very soft and gentle but turned to fervent and needy as soon as he heard the first noise escape from your mouth. His lips left yours to kiss the corner of your mouth then your jaw and then your neck before meeting with them again. He hesitantly shifts on top of you. As soon as his lips started to make another round of plastering kisses down your jaw you took the opportunity to speak up. “I-I’ve never,”

“Me either,” Satoru removes his lips from you completely, lifting himself to look at you. You looked a little surprised to hear that it would be his first time too. He was trying to gauge whether or not you wanted to stop. Your face was completely flushed and your hair was splayed out beneath you messily. You brought your hands above your head and bit your lip a little in submission. God, you were so beautiful to him. Especially now, in this lighting, and his childhood bedroom, laid out beneath him like this. “W-we don’t have to,”

“N-no, I want to. I promise.” You bring up your pinky to him and a huge, goofy, Satoru Gojo smile spreads across his face before he takes your pinky in his and kisses it. He sits up and you spread your legs for him, allowing him to move in closer. He takes your face in his hands once more and kisses you passionately. He tests how far he can go by biting your bottom lip a little to which you respond with a cute little whine. He wants to hear more. He wants to hear all the noises you can make. He kisses down your jaw again and when he reaches your collar bone he can’t go any further because of your button-up nightshirt. He sits up on his knees and pulls his black t-shirt above his head, you can’t help but wonder if it's the same one you spilled water on months ago. You stare at his toned chest in awe, running your fingers down the ripples of his abs making him shudder above you. There was a sense of longing as you looked at each other, almost like you both had been waiting a long time for this.

“It’s your turn princess,” You flutter beneath him at the new nickname. You stare into his eyes while teasing him by unbuttoning your silk night shirt slowly. He grows impatient but doesn’t rip it off like he wants to, you were both new to this. Instead, he takes over and unbuttoned them for you. At the bottom of the shirt he rubs his thumb over your lower stomach where he saw your belly button earlier in the night, you are soft, just like he thought you were. The action made you shiver. You just wanted him to touch you. He couldn’t believe he was about to feel all of you. He was so unbelievably lucky.

Your shirt falls to the sides exposing your bare chest to him, your nipples already hard from the way he’s been so gentle with you. His eyes widen with lust and your face burns up even more. Your body was practically begging, you could feel how soaked you were getting just from him staring at you.

“Satoru, baby,” You whine making his ears perk up at your new nickname for him. You were his baby? He could die a happy man now. “Please.” You beg. “Touch me.” It was like music to his ears.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart,” He was getting cockier with you underneath him like this. He brought his lips to yours one last time before aggressively kissing down your neck, your clavicle, and finally to your chest, leaving love bites as he went. He lays on top of you and in between your legs. You were breathing heavily beneath him as he worshipped your body. He slowly kissed each bud before grabbing a handful of your breasts in each one of his hands. If he wasn’t careful he would finish himself before he even got started. He couldn’t help it, he was such a boob guy especially since these were yours. Finally, he brought his face down to one of your breasts and gently rubbed the tip of his nose over it before licking your nipple and sucking to his hearts' content. He must’ve realized he was being stingy with one part of your body because he could feel your hips buck up into his stomach, begging for attention. He brought his hand down to your hips to play with the band of your shorts. Your whines and moans flushed out the noise of the end of the storm entirely. His fingers dipped into your shorts and snapped the waistband of your panties against your skin. Satoru’s eyebrows were bunched together in pleasure and you felt him trying his hardest not to grind against your leg. He was hard and you just wanted to touch him, to make him feel good too.

“‘Toru” You hum in pleasure and Satoru slowly looks up at you in acknowledgment, one of your nipples still in his mouth. You pull away from him and he frowns. “C’mere, sit.” You position him against the wall and he does exactly what you tell him to. You climb on him, straddling his hips. You move your hair behind your back and move your chest closer to his face, allowing him to continue. He cups both of your breasts in his hands and rubs his face between them, taking turns sucking each one. You on the other hand were rubbing your clothed cunt against his sweatpants, giving him the friction you both were lacking before. He groans loudly into your chest and you kiss his forehead while you ride him slowly. Everything felt way too good, now you were the one about to cum from foreplay alone.

“Y/N,” He removes his mouth from your breast and pulls your head down close to his before kissing you sweetly. You knew he was serious, he never calls you by your name. “I need you to cum for me first.” He was almost comically way too big for this bed. He picks you up and lays you down beneath him once more making you lose whatever sense of yourself you had left. His dominant side was coming out and you submitted. You would always submit to him you thought, for as long as you live. He was still holding back, maybe because it was your first time and he didn’t want to hurt you. His lustful gaze was something you’d never thought you’d get to see. His eyes were locked on yours as he wrapped his fingers around the waistband of your shorts and panties to wiggle them off your body. You were completely naked now. You felt very exposed but you were ready for him. You wanted him so badly, that you would do anything for him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him while his fingers find your soft, wet pussy. He didn’t even have to touch you for you to be dripping like this. He spreads you lightly and you open your legs as far apart as you can as he runs his middle and ring finger down your slick and rubs big circles around your lips and clit. His moves were novice but he was so gentle and sensual that everything he was doing felt good anyway.

“Do you like that?” He breathes into your mouth, “Let’s see how tight you are.” He smirks into your mouth as you give him open-mouthed kisses filled with moans. All you could manage was a nod, your forehead hitting his softly.

He slides his longest finger inside you as he moans out your name. It was torture how slow he was going, you arch your back as he bottoms out. Then with a flicking motion, he kisses you again, practically eating your moans for him. He fingers you in and out a few times before adding another. This was your current limit with your own, although he was already much bigger and longer than yours. He makes a scissoring motion to stretch you out and you moan into his neck, biting him a little.

“Satoru,” You whine up at him with watery eyes, “It’s too much” You don’t mean that, you don’t think.

“Does my pretty girl want me to stop?” He asks in a condescending and cocky way while slowly pumping in and out of you, his eyes were heavy-lidded and filled with lust. His hair was the messiest it's ever been and you just wanted him to be inside of you already.

“No, please, I want more,” You breathlessly whimper and he happily obliges. Your lewd noises go straight to the bulge in his pants making him twitch beneath you. He disappears from your mouth, his lips trail down your body again until they stop to meet his fingers buried inside you. He kisses your inner thighs and positions you closer to him. You were suddenly nervous again, having him this close to such an intimate part of your body. He kisses your pussy and watches his fingers slide in your sweet hole to spread you open again. He had never done this before and he was a little overwhelmed with everything he could do to make you feel good. He decides to tongue your clit, making you wiggle beneath him. He felt so good, you couldn’t believe this was his first time. You felt a pressure build up inside of you and you bucked your hips into his tongue harder and faster as you chased the familiar feeling you’ve only ever achieved by yourself. “Satoru, I think I’m going to cum.”

Satoru wraps both of his arms around your legs and attaches his face to your pussy, letting you ride out your orgasm on his face. You moan his name and grip his hair, tugging at the white strands between your legs. He grips your thighs even tighter as he unconsciously rides the edge of the bed to your moans. He was also chasing his high with just your lewd noises and the sounds of your wet slick meeting his tongue. It was so too much and when you came on his face he came in his pants without even meaning to.

You fell back in bed and Satoru wiped his mouth with his shirt that was lying on the side of his bed. He looked so good like this, sweaty and covered in you. You moved closer to him and cupped his face before kissing him gently. You climbed into his lap naked, not giving him a chance to do anything else. He falls back and his hair lands around his head and he looks like an angel, he was just missing a halo. You want to kiss him all over and make him feel as good as he just made you feel. You were also naive though and didn’t know how to express how thankful you were sexually. You decided to mimic what he did to you by kissing down his jaw, his neck, his chest, and down his hips. You put your fingers in his waistband to pull down his pants before he grabs your wrist.

“I, um, kind of came already.” He adverts his eyes shyly and you couldn’t help but kiss him with how cute he was. Did he cream his pants from eating you out?

“Do you think you could cum again?” You ask innocently and his eyes widen, not even considering that that was something he could do.

He nods and you help lift the pants off his hips. Your eyes blink slowly at the sight laid out before you. He was even more beautiful from the hips down. You’d never seen one before aside from the one time you tried to watch porn but you had a feeling if you had to gauge it to the one you had seen you would say Satoru was about the same size, maybe a little bigger. He was not disappointing and if anything you were a little intimidated about how it would fit. He was super pale and in the moonlight, you could see the cum glisten from his tip and somehow even his cock looked angelic. He must’ve felt insecure because he grabbed his shaft and started running his hand up and down causing you to look up at him. Somehow the sight of him touching himself to you was even hotter than anything you had done with him up until now.

You pull your hair back behind your shoulders and bring your face down to him, he continues to pump into his hand so you decide to give him your mouth to help. You run your tongue over the head of his cock and clean whatever slick was from before. He shivers beneath you and you suck, keeping pace with his hand. When you tilt your head to look at him your eyes are heavy with lust and he removes his hand from his shaft to run it through your hair. He bunches it up at the top and you bring your mouth down onto him, attempting to take him all in. You choke a little causing your mouth to salivate even more. He doesn’t push your head down like he wants to, instead, he is very gentle with you and allows you to set your own pace, and ignores his urges. He throws his head back and moans your name making your pussy flutter again. After a few more minutes he pulls you off and you whine from the loss of physical touch. He pulls you towards his chest and kisses you hard.

“I want to be inside you so bad.” He whines into your mouth sexually frustrated.

You kiss him and smile into his neck before guiding him on top of you. “Promise me you’ll pull out?” He shoots his pinky in front of your face and you giggle before taking it in your hand, you couldn’t help but giggle at this little ‘thing’ you had going on with the pinky promises. It was cute.

“I promise,” He breathlessly replies, suddenly very impatient. He kisses your hand before looking down at his cock, lining it up with your entrance. He rubs himself along your folds collecting all the slick that was just pouring out of you at this point. You couldn’t help how turned on you were.

“Satoru, go slow, please,” You beg as you feel his tip kiss the soft lips of your pussy. He brings one of his hands to the side of your face and runs his fingers through your hair again. He rubs a circle on your cheek as he pushes himself in slowly. You bite your lip at the sting and he kisses your nose.

“I would never hurt you… unless you wanted me to.” There are butterflies in your stomach as he slides into you inch by inch. He pulls out to slick more of himself each time to make it easier. He kisses the corner of your lip and your cheek as he bottoms out inside of you. “You’re so tight, I don’t think I’m going to last very long.”

You moan and grip the sheets beside you. “Satoruuu,” You pur his name into his ear and he wraps his arm around your head, cradling you in place. His arm muscles seemed even bigger as they caged you beneath him. Your hands are running down his back. He places his forehead on yours as he pumps in and out of you slowly, then quickens his pace when you get louder. The only sounds are quiet rumbles of passing thunder and the lewd noises his cock makes each time he bottoms out in your pussy.

“Say it again, say my name,” You say his name three more times, each one more breathless than the last. You feel him twitch inside you and you’re so close you can feel you’re teetering on the edge of cumming again.

“Y/N,” He moans into your ear and your face is hot, you’re silently wishing he would’ve called you ‘sparky’ instead. You’re not sure you can handle him calling you by your name. You open your eyes and he’s looking at you. His eyes flicker to your lips and he kisses you tenderly. “Can you cum for me? I can’t go much longer.”

You can’t say anything so you just nod. Your eyebrows bunched together in pleasure. You feel yourself tighten around him and his head shoots up and you have a clear view of his neck, his collar bone and his adam’s apple. He was so hot like this, panting heavily above you.

“Good girl,” His voice is raspy and he pulls you closer to him once more. That was it, that was all he had to say for you to cum around his cock. You can’t even warn him, instead you just moan and arch your back ultimately clenching around him, milking him for all he has. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders and your legs were wrapped around his hips. You had him locked inside you. “I’m gonna,” His moves started getting staggered and messy. He was about to cum. “Y/N, y-you have to let go or I’m going to c-cum inside you-u.” He struggled to get out, his movements were sloppy now. He felt too good but you let go at the last second. Satoru pulled out just in time to cum all over your pretty belly button.

After a few minutes of laying next to each other breathing heavily, Satoru gets up to get a warm wash cloth and uses it to clean you off. You lock eyes and both of your faces turn beat red. You just slept together but you immediately felt shy again. What do you do now? Return to school like normal? You were starting to get stuck in your head again.

“Hey,” Satoru reaches out to cup your jaw. “Do you feel any better?”

“Yeah,” You smile at him sweetly. “Thank you.” You jump into his arms and hug him. He is thrown off at first but eventually wraps his arms around you. You were still naked and your breasts were against his bare chest. You could feel his heart beat beneath you. It was slowing and you felt calm again. You pull away first and he pushes your hair behind your ear. He moves the blanket allowing you to get under.

“Should we move to my bed?” He asks, gesturing his head across the room.

“I don’t know, I kinda like it over here.” You laugh and move over allowing him to get in with you.

“You’re lucky I like you, Sparky,” He gets under the blanket and rests his head on your chest, your heartbeat lulling him. He wraps his arms around your stomach and you gently play with his hair as he falls asleep in your arms. His breathing steadies like how it did on the car window. You never imagined he’d be lying against you in the same way. You let the rain sway you to sleep.

----- You were at the Gojo estate for three more days. Each day was filled with glorious meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It felt like a vacation that you never wanted to leave. You and Satoru had become very playful with each other and would sit together during every meal. He would carry you all around the house, whether on his back or in his arms, your laughs filling the otherwise empty halls. You were extremely giggly and tried to hide it from Satoru’s grandmother whenever she was around, but as soon as you and Satoru were behind closed doors you were immediately on each other's lips, jumping each other's bones. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had honestly lost count of how many times he was inside you.

“Toruuu, I’m going to cum.” You ride out your orgasm while staring up at the ceiling. You were both on his king bed and you felt like you were in heaven sitting on a cloud wrapped in his silk sheets. You were on top of him and his hands were cupping both of your breasts as he massaged them roughly. He was finally getting a little more confident with you. He was too focused on how beautiful you looked using him as a toy to cum. He was honestly content not cumming himself because just before this you were between his legs sucking him into oblivion. He came in two minutes, he couldn’t help it. You looked so good looking up at him the way you did. How could he not?

Or so he thought, you were just too hot. “Y/N, I’m going to cum.” His eyebrows scrunched together and you bit your lip getting cockier with your movements. You pushed yourself down harder and rode him until he was practically whimpering and begging you to get off so he wouldn’t come inside you. “P-Please,” He begs. You liked it when he let you dominate him sometimes. You knew how strong he was and you knew he picks and chooses when to be submissive so you take advantage of the times he is. At the last second you allow him to pull you off of him and you roll over giggling. You were sticky with sweat and felt euphoric. When your head hit the pillow you turn to look at him as he used his hand to make sure he managed to cum on his stomach and not to get it everywhere. You lay on your side and watched him as he finally turned his head to look at you. Both of your cheeks turn red again, it was like every time you slept together you both immediately returned to the way you acted before coming to the Gojo estate.

“We leave tomorrow.” You look at him with a bittersweet look in your eyes. You wanted to live in this moment for as long as you could. You didn’t want to go back to fighting curses, attending school, or even figuring out what happened with Suguru before you left. It was all too much. You hadn’t thought about anything the whole time you were here and it was nice.

As if Satoru could see your mind racing, he reached out and gently rubbed your cheek. You smiled sweetly at him and ran your fingers over his before intertwining your hand in his. “The year is almost over, you won’t have to be a sorcerer for much longer.” He gives you an empathetic smile and you close your eyes, cuddling up to him as he holds you against him. “And in a year from now, you can just tell Grandmother you’re still with Suguru so we don’t have to get married.” He says in an almost monotone voice before he separates from you to clean himself off. You furrow your brows and your heart sinks a little.

#bryannawrites #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #satoru x reader x suguru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #Youtube

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gingernut1314 · 11 months ago

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The Luck Child - Chapter 3: Discussions of Pain and Chaos

Buggy x F!Reader

Summary: Buggy throws a temper tantrum and you are less than happy to sit around and wait for him than his senior officers. Especially when your position on his crew has yet to be decided.

Warnings: spoilers for the anime (Marineford Arc and onward), canon divergence, canon typical violence

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: This is done in collaboration with the wonderful @fanaticsnail and her Sapsorrow series--go read it if you haven't already!!! And thank you @i-am-vita for creating the beautiful banner and storyteller collab masterlist!!

Buggy had been a snapping firecracker of chop-chopped limbs, screeching and screaming, angered tears, and cruses upon Red-Haired Shanks’ name. A firecracker that burned bright and fast, flying off to bar himself within his large, red and white striped tent, now very crinkled map in hand.

There had been throwing and the sound of crashing and then--silence. Utter silence that had lasted for longer than you could have ever believed the clown could stay as such.

So long, you were beginning to convince yourself he had died. There was no other logical option, really. Because the Buggy you knew could not physically keep his mouth shut even if it was to save his life.

But firecrackers were, if anything else, short-lived things.

His senior officers seemed utterly unphased by Buggy’s temper tantrum.

Cabaji had walked off to shout commands and insults at his subordinates fixing their Captian’s ship, the Big Top, while the rest sat just before Buggy’s tent in chairs made of wax.

You paced. Had been pacing since Buggy had locked himself in his tent and continued to pace as Galdino came back over to the assembled group with a silver tray in hand. Intricately designed porcelain tea cups full of steaming dark-amber liquid sat on top of it, a matching teapot in the middle.

You watched, turning back around to pace before the tent flaps, as Galdino handed Alvida one of the cups. Watched her, from her spot on a wax-made couch she lounged out upon, take the tea from him, an all-too-pleasant thank you leaving her red painted lips. Lips that pulled up in the smallest of smiles for the man. Galdino nodded his head, a near-matching smile on his face.

You turned on your heels once more, after making it to the other end of the tent, and headed back for the other side as Galdino handed Mohji a cup as well. The fur-covered first mate nodded his thanks and took a sip of tea, a pleased hum on his lips. His larger-than-normal lion, whose name you remembered was Richie, napped at his feet like some overgrown cat.

Galdino turned towards you and your pacing body, his lips thinning.

“Would you like a cup? It’s earl grey--made the bled myself just yesterday.” He spoke, pride welling in his voice at such a fact.

You paused in your pacing. Paused and stood perfectly still as he came up to you, taking your settledness as welcome.

You lifted a hand to take the delicate cup from his, Galdino grinning at you.

“See? Isn’t the simple pleasure of a nice cup of tea much better than such--” You grinned a wolfishly wicked thing in his face as you sharply threw the cup away, it shattering into little pieces against the hard surface of a nearby rock, which grew damp from the spilled, homemade tea. “...brutish nonsense.” The former Mr. 3 finished, a deep frown cutting down his face. “That was a part of a set.” He snapped.

“Boo. Hoo.” You answered, starting up your pace once more.

“It’s not worth trying to tame such a savage beast.” Alvida’s silky smooth voice spoke as she raised the porcelain to her lips, sharp eyes tracking Galdino as he started for his own wax-made chair next to her couch. “It’s best to either give them a wide berth or hunt them down for sport.”

“You might be right. And she does have such a nice bounty on her head.” Galdino mused, sitting down all prim and properly in his chair. Alvida took a sip of her tea, turning her head so she could continue to glance his way.

“Then why vogue for her in such a way? We would do best to get rid of her. Stray animals should stay as such.” She said with a smirk and another sip of tea.

“Because, dear, what a nice asset she would be to us if she were domesticated.” Galdino took a sip from his own cup, turning his gaze onto Alvida with a growing smirk of his own. “Maybe we would do best to invest in a shock collar. That would keep her from causing too much mayhem.” Alvida gave a luscious chuckle.

“If we are to keep her, dear, then we best invest now.” You ignored their taunting, finding it not worth your time. Especially when your time was already being wasted waiting around for that pathetic excuse of a man still hiding away in his tent.

“How much longer does he expect us to wait around for him to sulk?” You snapped, turning sharply on your heels once more to march back over the white sand you had been leaving a consistent trail of boot marks in.

“We find it best to…leave the captain be when he gets like this,” Mohji spoke, taking a sip of tea. “He’ll come around…soon enough.”

“Soon enough is not good enough. He should be out here discussing a play of action.” Mohji winched at your words.

“I would not push him.” You snarled at the fur-covered man who all but sunk into his chair as if to get away from your wrath. His lion stirred, seemingly sensing his master's unease.

“Galdino, dear, make a note to also purchase a muzzle.” Alvida’s voice hummed.

“Yes. Our budget definitely would allow for that as well.” You turned your snarl onto them.

You would only take so many slights against your name.

“You best remember Galdino that I will take no such disrespect from you or anyone.” You hissed, making the man pale. Alvida only laughed, its ambrosian ring floating over the soft breeze, not understanding the true meaning behind your words.

Galdino was best to remember that you still held power over him. Best to remember you held his daughter’s life in your hands and that one simple call would send her into the pits of hell.

“And what will you do, wild woman? You are trying to join our crew and you have been doing very little to earn your place.” What you would do to that woman had her words not rang true. What utter carnage you would have wrought against her and this crew she belonged to if you didn’t have this mission to complete.

You snarled at her for a moment longer, a moment long enough for her to take yet another sip of her tea and swallow before you barged into the tent you had been pacing before.

You would drag that fool from his den before you sat there any longer and allowed that woman to insult you.

Darkness enveloped you. A darkness only broken up by the round hole in the apex of the tent, which allowed the smoke from the fire at the center to escape through. The fire flickered and swayed at the sudden rush of wind you had created in your rush.

Its swaying light illuminated more of the space. Illuminated a broken desk, shattered mugs, and torn papers. Brightly colored clothes lay sprawled over the floor, causing the fire’s light to reflect off the sparkles and gems on them to shine like a sea of diamonds. Glass beer bottles rattled together as you slowly made your way through the large space towards a pile of pillows that looked like some strange birds nest.

And in that nest, laying on his front, body parts chop-chopped apart, and flowing blue hair splayed around his head, was Buggy the Clown.

He was quiet.

Too quiet.

You’re earlier thought crossed your mind in a flash.

He looked dead.

Maybe he was--died of his red-hot dramatics.

What an easy mission that would make, but you knew your luck wasn’t that great. Knew Buggy’s “prophesied” luck was stronger than your own and he was still alive under that sea of blue hair and fluffy blankets.

“...Buggy?” You questioned, coming to a stop just before his bed space began.

He didn’t answer. He didn’t move.

It pissed you off.

Submission. You had to be--supportive of your new captain's antics.

Gods--it almost made you want to gag.

You made your way into his bed space, stepping over pillows and blankets to come to a stop next to him.

“Buggy?” You tried again, but once more he remained silent as the grave. It was almost eerily how silent he was being.

With a huff and a manhandling of your will and pride, you sat down next to him and---

Pffffffrrrrrfffttttt.

The tent grew still once more.

A--a fart…that had been a release of gas-made air.

Had he--no--that ghastly sound had come from under you, but you knew good and well that you had done no such thing.

Buggy moved then.

A small shake of his shoulder that grew so powerful that it began to rock his whole body up and down.

Buggy was laughing at you. A laugh so intense it was utterly quiet.

You reached under you and grabbed up the deflated pink, rubber cushion beneath you.

A whoopee cushion.

Of course Buggy had planted a whoopee cushion for you to fall for.

Buggy gave a deep inhale of breath before belting out the loudest, funkiest laugh you’ve ever heard him produce. One that had your anger stifling, if just for a moment, to listen to the utter joy your personal embarrassment had brought him.

“Good one.” You grit, throwing the whoopee cushion at him. Buggy hardly seemed to feel it or care as he turned his head to look up at you, his blue hair cascading over his face and blocking some of his smudged and running make-up. He looked--almost too beautiful in that moment.

It made you want to chop-chop his head off and punt it into the sea.

“Holy shit! I’m--I’m--BWAHAHAH!!” Another fit of laughter overtook his words, tears brimming at the corners of his cyan eyes. “I’m--I’m sorry but holy shit! You’ve gotta admit I gotcha good!” You clenched your fists tightly in your lap to keep from beating the absolute shit out of the clown laying next to you.

“...you got me.” You said, teeth hardly even letting you get the words out. It only threw Buggy into yet another laughing fit, one accompanied by the slamming of his fist on the ground and feet kicking.

“I did! I really did!” You let him continue his hysterics, knowing you would prefer to deal with a teasing, happy Buggy, than a Buggy who wouldn’t speak.

But that silence that had lived in the tent before his prank filtered back in, stealing his laughter and smile and filling those bright eyes with those haunting shadows he had almost convinced you had ceased to exist. You watched him as he let his head fall into his awaiting hands, the heels of his plam digging into his eyes in a rough manner that would further smudge his clown-like make-up.

It made your skin crawl. Mabe your anger roll in your chest, your fist begging to hit something.

You forced your fingers to uncoil from their pale knuckled hold on themselves. Forced yourself to think your re-sparked anger was because he had laughed in your face…not because his quiet was making you feel--strange. Not because whoever had put that hauntingly hurt look in his eyes was pissing you off just for daring to make his brightest fall away. A hurt you were carefully piecing together must have something to do with Red-Hair.

People didn’t just have that kind of reaction to a Jolly Rodger they hadn’t memorized--hadn’t let burn into the forefront of their mind and rage shimmer in their veins at its mere sight.

No. Nope. Your anger had nothing to do with any of that.

“I didn’t know the map had anything to do with that Emperor.” You spoke low and slow as if you were approaching some sort of wild beast. Buggy scoffed at you, rolling his head in his head to look back up at you.

“Of course, you didn’t know. You didn’t even think to smell the damn map.” Buggy said like it was utterly ridiculous that you hadn’t thought of that.

“Who smells a fucking map?”

“Any pirate who has a true heart for the hunt. Obviously.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled one of your legs out from its crossed position so that you could rest your forearm on your knee, leaning down closer to the clown.

“Obviously the map wasn’t for me. I care more for the wildness of the adventure than any treasure at its end.” That spark of brightness began to filter back into his eyes as a teasing smirk tugged at his lips.

“That makes us perfect together then, huh? I like the shininess of gold and silver and you like the shininess of blood and marrow.” You couldn’t help that wolfish grin of yours from pulling to your lips at his words.

“That I do. Which is why I make such a wondrous addition to your crew.” Those cyan eyes scanned over your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than you liked. Your fists were clenched into fists at the rising beat of your heart, ready to strike him in his far too loud mouth.

“I still can’t wrap my head ‘round that, Minnow. You don’t like me. You don’t like my crew. You were once a part of a crew whose membership I hear is very difficult to earn. I know your nature well enough to know you wouldn’t just give that up without a true reason.” You watched Buggy who watched you with those eyes of his. Eyes you would never admit had found their way into the shadows of your dreams. Eyes that had your fluttering heart turned blazing in red-hot anger.

“I’ve already told you. I saw you fight at Marineford and--”

“Cut the crap!” He shouted, rushing to sit up on his knees. To tower over you, grabbing hold of your shirt so that he could yank you closer to his bared teeth.

Close. How close he had grown. And that anger. Oh, that utterly wild anger had your toes curling in your boots.

Your muscles and temper wanted to grab him and break his hand for ever thinking of touching you, but your brain sharply reminded you once more to submit.

“You ain’t tryin’ to join me 'cause you saw some fuckin’ broadcast. You ain’t tryin’ to join me 'cause you think I’m powerful. There’s somethin’ you want. What is it?” Buggy hissed in your face.

Submit, submit, submit.

You grinned up at him, pulling yourself onto your own knees so you could press your breasts into his chest and run a hand over the warm skin of his exposed arm, which was flexed from the hold he had over you. Buggy watched you in pure shock as his face grew redder and redder with each passing moment.

“What I want,” You purred, letting your eyes greedily drink in the thin curve of his lips beneath the smudged paint. “Is to serve you. I want to be your weapon. I want you to wield me however you choose against whomever you choose. I want to see you achieve greatness.” Those eyes of his, so wide and full of disbelief, fluttered to your own lips.

“But--but you hate me.” His voice grew soft, near whispering along with the loosening of his fingers around your shirt.

“The past is in the past.” You saw that hurt flash in his eyes. That haunting darkness. “Shall I kill off that Red-Haired Emperor for you to prove my loyalty?” Buggy blinked, snapping himself out of whatever haunting pasts had started to invade his mind.

Good.

“W-what? No. You wouldn’t last a second against that guy.” You shrugged on an agreeing nod.

“Yes…but his crew isn’t as unbeatable. I could select one of his senior officers, hum…let’s say their Doctor, to wipe off the chess board. It would be an assassination of stealth--of shadows. It would leave them scrambling to figure out how it had happened. Who had done it. Leave them distracted--hurting.” Buggy’s breath hitched as you continued to speak, bringing your voice low and filling it with honey-thick and sultry tones.

“I would then go for his chef, then his sharpshooter, and on and on until I get to that pesky first mate of his. Now he would be tougher to kill. I would have to catch him off guard, and on guard he would be after such a massacre of his men. Get him at his weakest state--in his blind spot and strike. Your crew could handle the rest of his underlings and then poor Red-Haired Shanks would be left to wallow in his mourning. He would be weak and utterly alone.” You brought your lips ever closer to his, which parted on a stuttering inhale of air.

“And then, if you commanded it, I would go for Red-Hair himself. A little poison in the drink he would no doubt be drowning himself in would weaken him enough to make it ever so easy to,” You ghosted your fingers over his neck, feeling Buggy’s rapidly beating pulse and the bob of his Adams Apple on a sharp swallow, “take his head.”

Buggy watched you for a long moment, tongue wetting his lips and pupils growing with each passing moment he stayed within such close proximity of you. And for a few of those moments, you thought he might try to close that distance. And you might have let him that close again, especially after getting yourself all worked up on such discussions of pain and chaos.

“Fuck--” Buggy cursed on a huff of air, those eyes of his narrowing as he tried to refocus himself. “I forgot how fuckin’ crazy you are.” You hummed in agreement, fingers continuing to touch his skin. Skin that was all too warm and inviting.

“And all my instantly is yours now, captain.” Buggy gave that funky laugh of his, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips.

“You’re truly persistent, ain’t ya?” You nodded, thumb brushing over the stumble of his jaw. Buggy shook his head in amusement, finally letting go of your shirt as he flopped back amongst the various pillows that made up his bed space to rub at his face.

“Fine.” He said, voice muffled by his gloved hands. You huffed a smirk, crawling your way over so that you could peer down at him and his sea of blue hair sprawled out around him.

“Fine…what?” You lulled, peeling one of his hands away from his face so he could look at you. That blush you had pulled from him moments ago dusted over his skin upon finding you kneeling over top of him.

“Alvida is gonna kill me.” He groaned, brows furrowing.

“And is she your captain?” Buggy gave a huffing chuckle at your question.

“Technically she’s my co-captain. We have this alliance goin’.” You narrowed your eyes down at him, making that blush only deepen. “B-But ya know that’s--she kinda just does her own thing--follows me around. I’m the captain.” You nodded, leaning ever the more closer as your grin yanked at your lips once more.

“Good. I will not serve under her. I will only serve under you.” Buggy swallowed, those alluring eyes of his scanning over your face rapidly.

“Heh--yeah. Und-under me.” He cleared his drying throat, that blush continuing to bloom. “Yep. On my crew--serving me.” You boredly blinked at his ramblings.

“What shall your first command be, captain?” You asked, making the clown clear his throat once more.

“Right. Command. Well--if we’re gonna find this treasure, we’re gonna need to find Shanks.” Buggy said, bitting the name of the red-haired emperor out, that anger you so enjoyed seeing flashing through his eyes.

“And like I said before, I am exceptional at gathering hard-to-get information. I will find him for you.” You said, pulling yourself up and away from the man who you now officially called captain.

A gloved hand shot out to grab your wrist before you could stand, pulling your blistering hot attention back onto him.

Submit. Your brain screamed, but your body wanted to punch him right in that rounded nose of his for continuing to touch you.

“No grand assassination attempts--though very flashy indeed.” You nodded, your head, going once more to stand but his hand held firm. “How are you going to find him?”

“There is a large town on one of the islands bordering this one I will go to ask around. Maybe find a Marine--”

“Minnow, you ain’t gonna find any Marines here.” You blinked down at him, calming your raging anger. “This island is home to one of the biggest pirate havens around. Hidden away from the watchful eye of the World Government. It’s why I came here. Needed to get off the Marine’s radar for a little while.” You almost scoffed at him.

If only he knew he’d let one right into his confidence.

“Oh?” You said in your stifled angered state. It was all you could say without lashing out at him.

You hadn’t heard of any pirate haven on this island. The people of the town you had talked to said nothing of it, even after your bribes of knowing more about this island. All they had said it was full of was sand and forest and the Buggy Pirates who had washed ashore the night prior.

Luck child. Your brain purred back at you. A purr you shoved down to keep your anger from spiking any further.

“Oh?” Buggy said, a smirk growing on his painted lips as he pulled himself to sit up once more. “You don’t know? And here I thought you were exceptional at gathering hard-to-find information.”

Oh, how you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. To beat him into a pulp before he ever thought to question your skills again.

Submit, submit, submit. It made your weakly caged anger rile in its chains.

“I am. But I was not in need of finding any pirate heaven here. I was in need of finding you.” That blush was back in seconds, his mouth falling open and shut like a suffocating fish.

“Heh--right.” He chuckled awkwardly, letting you go and allowing you to stand.

“I’ll find this pirate heaven and I will find that emperor for you by the time your ship is ready to set sail tonight.” You said, bowing your head in show of respect before turning on your heels to leave.

“Uh--wait!” Buggy called the sounds of him scrambling to get up sounding behind you.

“Yes, captain?” You asked, clenching your fists as you faced the disheveled man.

“I’ll come with you.” Your anger rolled in its cage once more. “I don’t think I trust ya to get there without gettin’ lost.” He said on another chuckle meant to tell you he was only teasing. It did nothing but heat your anger further.

“Of course. Your knowledge of this heaven will be useful.” You said through slightly grit teeth as the clown came sauntering up to you.

“Exactly what I was thinkin’, Minnow.” He said, that wide grin of his pulling to his face as he leaned close into you again. You allowed it, your attention being stolen by those damn eyes on his once more. “And hey, maybe we’ll have a little bit of fun together.”

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