#this chapter took years off my lifespan fr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aster-tiger · 2 years ago

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The Raging Witch

Law x OFC, Zoro x OFC, Luffy x OFC, Zoro x Luffy, Law x Zoro, Law x OFC x Zoro

Warnings: swearing, pr0n with plot, shameless smut, bisexuality, consensual k!nk, 3some, b0ndage, emotional slow burn, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, bonding, mating (not abo), post Punk Hazard, post Dressrosa, changing pov (no head hopping), mm relationship, mmf relationship, english is not my first language, no beta we die like men

You can find the whole story on AO3

Chapter 24: Aftermath

"Go away, brat. You'll only get an aneurysm if you stay here."

Daria took the last drag out of her cigarette and scrunched the butt against the wall she was leaning on. Then she let out a long, slow stream of smoke.

She had purple bags under her bloodshot eyes, as if she didn't sleep in days. Her face looked worn out and strained, but her hands were steady as she reached for another cigarette.

"That's why I need to stay," Law glared at the medic. "You'll kill her with your quack methods."

She lit up the cigarette, without looking at him. The flame from the lighter painted her face with an orange glow.

"Out of the two of us," she swung the cigarette between herself and Law, “which one has an actual medical license?”

“Where did you get yours? At a butcher's shop?”

"Funny,” she snorted dismissively, before taking a drag. “I've worked with her for six years before she met you, and I've never seen her hurt this bad."

"Did it occur to you that she's never fought a yonko before?" Law snapped.

She took a deep drag, the end of the cigarette lighting up bright yellow.

"She left Sin City and the next thing we know, she goes to fight a shichibukai. Apparently, her heart stopped during the battle. Then she came here to fight a yonko," she tilted her head and blew the smoke upwards. "Have you thought about what she'll do next? And if it will finally kill her?"

"You speak too much, Daria," Rita's voice sounded behind Law's back.

Law turned his head and saw the older woman standing in the middle of the corridor just behind him. He didn't hear her coming or sense her presence.

"He's a mate," Daria replied and pushed off the wall. She pointed towards the sliding door closest to her. "Rage is in there. Go see her, then fuck off. I don't want you looming over my shoulder and spewing your stuck up crap. She'll live, that's all that should concern you."

Law strode past Daria and opened the door.

He was greeted by a rush of warm air.

The well-lit room housed a heater in one corner, giving it a noticeably higher temperature than the rest of the palace. Amidst the array of machines surrounding the woman lying on the futon, a steady beeping emanated from the heart monitor. Thick blankets covered her, revealing only her head and palms.

Law's teeth ground together at the sight of the IV lines connected to her palms.

As he drew nearer, his heart sank at the sight of her face. Her lips and cheeks bore bruises and scabbed wounds, her once radiant and warm complexion had paled to an ashen brown shade. Singed hair served as a grim reminder of her battle with King the Wildfire. Though she hadn't taken him down single-handedly, it was Rage, according to Law's crew, who had absorbed the brunt of King's attack, allowing her crewmates to deliver the decisive blow.

However, it wasn't the visible marks, wounds, or singed hair that tightened Law's throat. It was the white streaks in her hair and the change in her features. Despite being only twenty-five, she looked a decade older. Her prematurely greying hair served as a clear indication to the toll her excessive use of the devil fruit had taken on her body and lifespan.

He sat next to the futon and gently took her hand. Despite the blankets and heater, her fingers felt cold. The skin on her knuckles was cracked and scabbed, and he noticed more scabs on the underside of her hand. He moved his hand and held her fingers carefully, to avoid aggravating her wounds.

"She looks just like Sin now," Daria's voice came from somewhere behind Law. "Sin is fifty-five this year and doesn't have a single grey hair or wrinkle."

Law remained silent. This was his greatest fear: the devil fruit taking its toll on Rage’s lifespan.

"As a doctor, would you let someone with damaged knee cartilage run a marathon?They'd probably never walk again if they attempted such a feat."

Law stroked Rage's fingers with his thumb.

"She awakened the devil fruit," Daria continued in her dry tone. "Before going to Onigashima, she used the devil fruit extensively. She even created a supply of healing balls for us. She made even more during the battle. The girls from the rooftop have already recovered, thanks to the remaining healing balls. She ran several marathons with bad knees. While any other doctor would advise her to stop running, I won't intervene."

Law's head snapped sharply, fixing Daria with a scathing glare.

Daria leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed and tapping her hand on her bicep while holding an unlit cigarette. She met Law's glare with disdain.

"She means a lot to me, so I'll let her decide how she wants to die."

Before Law could retort, Rita stood beside Daria and placed a warning hand on her arm.

"Kisa is leaving soon," Rita informed. "She's waiting for Marco the Phoenix outside the palace."

Daria’s gaze focused on the heart monitor. "I don't care. It's time for another treatment anyway."

Sensing that Rita wanted to prevent Daria from speaking to him, Law wondered if the crew had plans to take Rage away. While Kisa's departure didn't concern him much, he silently stood up and left the room to find the first mate.

He found Kisa sitting on the stairs to the palace's main entrance. She wore leather pants and a fur-lined jacket, with her hair neatly brushed back and braided. A backpack rested at her feet.

He sat down right beside her, close enough for their knees to touch. "Rita said you're leaving.”

"Yes, I am,” she replied with a small smile.

"I thought you'd want to wait until Rage wakes up to say goodbye."

Her smile remained as she shook her head. "There's no need. She doesn’t like goodbyes."

"Do you hate her?" he asked, searching her eyes.

She let out an amused huff and patted his shoulder. "I wish her the best. Take care of her, ok? She can be reckless."

"I want to take care of her," Law replied, his stare intense as he covered her hand with his own. "Is there anything I should know to keep her safe?"

He squeezed Kisa’s hand to emphasise his question.

She twisted her palm to intertwine their fingers, and for a brief moment, her gaze flickered to the side. But before he could follow her gaze, she pulled him closer, their lips meeting.

Law froze in surprise.

"They're watching," she whispered against his lips.

His gut feeling was correct. Rage's crew had schemed something dangerous. Daria wanted to pass a message to him, but her words were silenced by one of the crows. Now, Kisa was under close watch to prevent her from sharing any information with him.

He pulled her in, draping an arm around her, so the collar of his coat shielded their faces from prying eyes. She straddled his lap, cupping his face in her hands. The kiss was hard and intense, their tongues entwined in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Grab my ass," she whispered.

He did and his face burned with embarrassment. To a bystander it surely looked like they were about to get into each other's pants on the palace steps.

"Don't let her leave without bonding with Luffy. He might change her decision," she urged.

Someone cleared their throat.

Kisa jerked back and got off his lap. Standing before them was Marco the Phoenix, wearing a good natured smile on his face.

"If you need more time to say goodbye, I can wait a few more hours," Marco offered, his gaze shifting between Kisa and Law.

Law's face was burning.

Kisa chuckled softly, her lipstick slightly smudged. She reached out and brushed Law's lips with her thumb, wiping off the lipstick from his face.

"Tempting," she remarked with a crooked smile. She leaned in and pecked Law on the cheek. "Goodbye, Law."

She picked up her backpack and stood up, ready to leave.

Acting on impulse, Law grabbed her hand. "Where will you go?"

"My daughter is still small," she replied with a soft smile. "But kids grow so fast. Soon enough, she'll want to play and we'll need to buy her some toys.”

Toys? Was she heading to Dressrosa?

She slipped her fingers from Law's grip and walked over to Marco.

"Didn't you mention being married?" Marco asked, his easy smile remaining.

"I am," she confirmed with a smirk. "But I never said we were monogamous."

Marco laughed. "Alright then, let's go."

She put on her backpack and held onto Marco. His arms transformed into blazing blue wings, and they soared into the sky.

A sharp whistle pierced the air.

Law turned his gaze to the opposite side of the plaza.

The Raging Witches stood on the palace wall, their fists raised in a silent salute.

"Rage, they woke up!" Maya burst into the sitting room just moments after Zoro's consciousness appeared in the bond.

"Yeah, I can feel it," she smiled at the petite girl with the neon green bob.

She put down her cup and prepared to get up, bracing for the pain. A broad hand clasped her elbow and helped her up.

She gave Denjiro a blinding smile. "Why thank you, my good sir."

The samurai had bandages all over his body, but he seemed to be in better shape than her.

Rage had woken up the day before, screaming in pain. Daria pumped her with painkillers, but it didn't work. Then Rita and Maya brought people for her to drain. The pain subsided and she healed her wounds, but she still felt a dull ache when she moved. Daria said it would get better with time and Rage hoped she wasn't lying.

She tightened her coat around her shoulders and, with Denjiro's help, walked to the room where the Straw Hat crew was recuperating.

"We're not that filthy though," Zoro's voice reached her ears as Denjiro opened the door.

"That's because I took it upon myself to cleanse you," Hiyori answered with a wide smile. "Is that exciting for you? Hee hee."

Sanji fumed at the princess' words. "Moss head, we need to have a serious talk!!!!"

"You can have him later," Rage interjected with a smile, glancing from Sanji to Hiyori.

The princess stumbled over her words, and Sanji gagged, but Rage paid them no mind.

Her gaze was fixed on Zoro, and the world seemed to fade away. The distance between them vanished as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he pulled her close to his chest.

"We made it," she whispered with a smile.

"Yeah, we did," Zoro grinned sharply.

Resting her forehead against his, she breathed in his scent.

There were moments during the battle when she thought she would never see him or Law again. Either Kaido would win and kill them all, or she would die while taking down the yonko.

But they were alive. Kaido was dead, thanks to Luffy awakening his devil fruit.

He had come close to defeat when CP0 intervened, holding him down for Kaido to deliver a fatal blow. However, she managed to transfer her remaining energy to him before Kaido threw Luffy into the ocean. She was alive thanks to Reid administering CPR. Even though it resulted in broken ribs, it was a small price to pay for survival.

“-hot bath!” the words snapped her attention back to reality.

Zoro chuckled and tightened his embrace.

"Sorry," she sheepishly replied. "It's just that a hot bath sounds orgasmic right now."

Despite being layered in thick kimonos, she still felt a chill, while Zoro radiated warmth while half naked.

“Sorry, guys! There’s no mixed baths in the castle…” Yamato explained, visibly filthy and covered in grime. Rage could smell his stench from across the room.

"We'll manage," Rage laughed, giving one of Zoro's pecs a playful pat.

"Rage-san, there's a feast planned for later today!" Momonosuke declared. "But your crew declined the invitation!" The kid whined.

“How rude,” she replied with fake concern. "But truth be told, it's probably for the best. You wouldn't want their crude behavior defiling your palace."

“But Rage-san” the kid bemoaned. “They are throwing a party of their own!”

“Yeah, I’ve already asked Shinobu and Raizo to keep an eye on you, so you won’t go anywhere near that party.”

Momonosuke's face contorted in horror as he fell to his knees, bursting into sobs. "That's unfair!”

“Sorry kid, it’s at least ten years too early for you,” Rage patted him on the back. Then she grabbed his shoulder and squeezed until he yelped and looked at her. “And if you dare spoil the fun for everyone, I’ll trash your ass, are we clear?”

“You realize he’s a shogun now, don’t you?” the large fishman stated.

“I don’t care,” she patted Momonosuke’s cheek and turned to the fishaman. "You must be Jinbe, the First Son of the Sea."

He nodded in confirmation.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Rage replied, extending her arm towards the fishman. “I’m Rage D. Veshti, captain of The Raging Witches, a bounty hunters crew.”

“Jinbe is part of our crew now!” Chopper exclaimed, his excitement causing him to jump up and down. “Isn’t that so cool?!”

“So cool,” she laughed at the fluffy doctor.

As they settled into the hot rock bath, Rage couldn't help but let out a satisfied moan. "Wow, this feels amazing!"

Speed and Carrot frolicked around, while the young girls Toko and Tama laughed and admired Nami's physique. Hiyori and Kiku reminisced about the past, and Shinobu floated in the water, humming happily. The excited shouting from the men's bath filled the air.

The carefree atmosphere felt almost unreal.

The past three months had been tough. The Battle of Onigashima... She didn't want to think about it right now. Maybe one day she would reflect on it and find closure, but for now, she wanted to avoid dealing with it.

Kaido’s fall made it easier to reach her final goal. She couldn’t afford to fall apart yet. There was a job still to be done.

She had a few more days to recuperate and to say goodbye to Law and Zoro.

When she woke up, Law was at Tokage Port, overseeing repairs to The Polar Tang. She hesitated to reach out through their bond. She wasn't ready to face him.

He had been right. Awakening her devil fruit powers had been a mistake. The brief moments of power had taken a toll on her, and she deeply regretted it.

Law was already on his way to the Flower Capital, so she knew she had to gather her courage and face him.

"Rage," Nami threaded through the water and sat next to her. "What are your plans after the alliance is over?"

So nosy.

"I don't know yet," she replied, leaning her head on Nami's naked shoulder, hoping to make her uncomfortable.

"Will you come with us? Or do you want to join Torao?" the navigator seemed unfazed by the close contact.

Rage snorted and leaned her head back against the rock. "I have my own crew, thank you very much."

"But what about Zoro? You two are mated!" concern laced Nami's voice.

"Zoro will be fine," she answered with a dry tone.

At this point she wanted to walk away from the outrageous woman, but the water was too perfect to leave just yet.

"What about Luffy?" Nami persisted.

Would it look bad if she slapped the bitch?

"Do I pry into your life?" Rage snapped back at the navigator. "No! Because I don't care."

"But I care!" Nami fired back, matching Rage's energy. "I don't want my nakama to be heartbroken!"

"Just fuck off, will you?"

Hot water or not, she was getting out of the bath.

Nami grabbed her wrist. "You haven't even looked at Luffy once. How much longer will you pretend he doesn't exist?"

That was it.

She pushed through the pain in her limbs and broke free from the grip. Swiftly, she grabbed Nami by the throat.

"Would you prefer if I killed him instead?" She let the dissociation cut everything off so she could give Nami the coldest of stares. "I can do it now if you want."

"Unhand her," Kiku, Carrot and Shinobu loomed behind her back.

Not in the mood for a fight, she shoved Nami against the rock and stormed out of the bath.

Fucking bitch.

The dissociation faded quickly and anger washed over her. She didn't want to deal with anything the navigator had mentioned.

She didn't want to leave her mates. She wanted to stay with them.

But Wano presented an opportunity she couldn't pass on. She needed her mates to leave, so she could carry out the plan with her girls. If Law and Zoro found out what she had planned, they would do anything to stop her. She was sure of it.

They were her mates. The purpose of the bonds was to protect her. But if her plan succeeded, there was a chance she wouldn't survive.

But she had to do it.

Even though she thought she was done with missions and saving slaves, this was a chance to make a difference. It could change the world. Her own life was not as important as the lives of millions of people.

She wiped away her tears and draped the warm coat around her shoulders.

It seemed like the boys were finished with their bath too. She could hear Luffy demanding food.

She met them at the gate.

"What happened?" Zoro asked after one look at her face.

She couldn't reveal the reason for the emotional turmoil, so she decided to blame the navigator.

"Nami said some mean stuff."

Zoro threw her an unimpressed look. "Are you serious?"

"Don't cry, Rage," Sanji pushed the swordsman aside. "I'm sure Nami-chan didn't mean any of it."

She faked a sniff and let her eyes water.

Sanji's face fell and he seemed at a loss.

"Cut the crap," Zoro grabbed her hand and unceremoniously dragged her towards the palace.

"You're no fun," Rage deadpanned. She turned her head and called out to the cook. "Hey, Sanj! Will you come to the party? Veronica will be there. You could take her for a test ride."

She gave the cook a saucy wink.

Sanji froze, his brain seeming to short circuit. Then blood gushed from his nose.

"Sanji! Get it together!" Chopper scolded as he fussed over the cook.

Zoro yanked her hand, forcing her to face him. "Cut out the nonsense? He's not getting married to the doll!"

"Who said anything about marriage?" She asked, faking innocence. Then she smirked suggestively at the swordsman. "It's just sex. A whole night of kinky, no strings attached, uninhibited sex with a gorgeous woman."

More blood gushed from the cook's nose, and he sagged to the ground.

"With so much blood loss he won't be able to perform anyway," Jinbe commented with a stoic face.

Yamato burst out laughing while Brook let out a scandalised gasp.

Rage deliberately avoided glancing at Luffy.

She wiggled her brows at Zoro. “Do you honestly think he is dumb enough to marry into a West Blue mafia family?”

“Yeah,” Zoro deadpanned.

She burst into laughter, and Zoro pulled her along, grumbling under his breath.

The dining hall was empty and when the servant said it would take two hours to serve the dinner they all bounced from the castle. They raided and emptied the food stalls, explored every game stall, and had a great time. Yamato was especially excited since it was his first festival. He bounced around like a kid on a sugar rush. Brook played his guitar from a rooftop, flooding the streets with loud music. Zoro drank booze like he was a bottomless pit. At one point, Luffy jumped on top of the highest building and shouted his praise for everyone who had fought against The Beast Pirates.

It was the moment when The Heart Pirates and Kid Pirates arrived.

Eustass Kid yelled some nonsense about taking down Luffy and waved a wanted poster. Luffy didn't seem bothered by the threats at all. Instead, he wrapped his arm around Kid and pulled him up to the rooftop. Luffy's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw his own wanted poster. He quickly regained his composure and shouted "kampai" while fireworks lit up the sky with colourful lights.

“Rage,” Rita appeared beside her. “Nico Robin is studying the poneglyph. She's accompanied by the Tengu, who revealed himself as Kozuki Sukiyaki, Oden’s father. He confirmed that Pluton resides in Wano.”

“Take me to them,” Rage ordered.

Soon, Rage found herself standing alongside Rita in a hidden chamber beneath the palace, where a previously concealed staircase lay before them.

“Law’s down there,” Rage mused. “He would sense me so there’s no point in sneaking around. I’ll handle this.”

Rita nodded and vanished.

Rage hurried down the stairs, pushing through the pain as she tried to catch up with Law. He was already ahead, descending alongside Robin and Sukiyaki. The ache in her body grew more intense with each step she took.

“Where is this dim light coming from?” she heard Robin’s voice.

In the faint light at the end of the tunnel, she caught a glimpse of Law's back and the handle of Kikoku.

Law vanished in a nook where the light was emanating from.

She came to an abrupt stop right by Sukiyaki’s side.

“Hi,” she managed to say between panting breaths. “I heard there was a tour around the secret parts of the castle.”

She smiled cheekily at Sukiyaki.

“Hello, Rage-dono,” he greeted with a calm expression.

She glanced above Law’s and Robin’s heads and noticed buildings on the seafloor.

Sukiyaki proceeded to explain that Wano had been flooded eight hundred years ago. Enormous stone walls had formed around the island, and it had become submerged in rainwater. The people of Wano had then constructed new land above the water, which became the present-day Wano.

Reaching the end of the staircase, Sukiyaki opened a door, revealing a chamber containing a red poneglyph. It was the third Road Poneglyph with the directions to Laugh Tale engraved on its surface.

She held onto Law's hand and stood beside him in front of the red slab. She could sense that it held significant meaning for him.

During the time she spent on his ship, he revealed his full name: Trafalgar D. Water Law. He also shared what Rosinante had told him about the "Will of D." Apparently people carrying the initial D were the natural enemies of the gods. Celestial Dragons would scare their own children with tales of the D coming to devour them if they misbehaved.

Law was determined to reach Laugh Tale and uncover the truth behind his name.

While she had never paid much attention to the significance of the D, when Law disclosed Rosinante's words, everything started to make sense. She realised that she, too, was a natural enemy of the Celestial Dragons. And now, she was on the verge of fulfilling her destiny.

Law squeezed her hand, likely thinking that her intensity stemmed from their pursuit of the road poneglyph and its significance. In response, she squeezed his hand back. This was a profound moment, but she couldn't explain to him why. He would stand in her way.

Her girls knew the plan and she forbade them to talk about any of it, especially to Law or Zoro.

“We’re now deep down in the caves at the foot of Fuji,” Sukiyaki explained in a serious tone. “It is further down into the earth where the ancient weapon Pluton is said to rest!”

Yes! This was the information she was after!

“I have never seen it for myself and I cannot show it to you now,” Sukiyaki continued. “In order to retrieve Pluton the walls will need to be torn down! In other words, “opening the borders” means destroying the country’s natural defence and unleashing an ancient weapon onto the world!”

Robin had more questions for Sukiyaki, but it was already enough for Rage. She had all the information she needed.

A sudden surge of conqueror’s haki made her jaw drop in disbelief.

“Law,” she tugged his hand and caught his gaze. “Take me to the surface, please!”

He looked puzzled, but he didn’t ask any questions.

With a series of tugs he brought them both to the front of the palace.

Rage fought against nausea caused by the teleportation and let out a sharp whistle.

Rita appeared in front of her.

“Bring me Reid,” she ordered and the woman vanished.

“What’s going on?” Law finally asked, he didn’t let go of her hand.

“You felt that surge of power, didn’t you?” she asked and he nodded. “It was Shanks’ haki! He’s nearby! I have to see him!”

Law searched her face. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied with a smile. “But thank you for the offer.”

She leaned in and gave him a soft kiss.

It felt like an eternity had passed since she last kissed him. She wanted more.

She licked his lips and he parted them to deepen the kiss. The same burning desire rose from his side of the bond. She longed to feel more of him, to mould her body against his, to be connected with him in every possible way.

But it was not the right time. An opportunity like this might not happen again and she wanted to confront Shanks.

She pulled away from the kiss and locked eyes with Law. A smirk crawled on her lips.

“I’ve heard you and Kisa had a heated goodbye,” she teased.

A bright red blush appeared on Law’s face.

She couldn’t suppress the amused giggle.

“Yeah it was good, wasn’t it?” she continued teasing and Law’s face turned a deeper shade of red.

“It just happened,” he managed to choke out.

“Sure it did,” she ribbed him further. “You liked her from the start, didn’t you?”

“Can we just drop it? Nothing happened, and she’s gone,” Law covered his face with his hand.

“Oh I don’t know,” she laughed. “Your reaction is so amusing, I want to tease you a bit more.”

In an instant, Law pulled her close against his strong body. She could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against her belly.

Law’s lips brushed her ear. “Maybe it’s you who needs to be the one teased, hmm?”

The low, seductive tone of his voice made her weak in the knees.

“Hey, lovebirds,” Reid's voice startled them.

Law let her go and she stepped back.

Reid flashed a teasing smirk as she stood confidently on her silver board. “Where to?”

“Do you still have Benn’s vivre card?”

"Yeah," Reid replied, reaching into her belt's pouch and rummaging through its contents. She retrieved a piece of paper and presented it to Rage.

“Good. Follow the vivre card. Shanks is nearby,” Rage ordered, positioning herself behind Reid on the board.

“Grab onto my belt, I don’t want you falling off.”

“That’s the worst insult I’ve ever heard from you,” Rage retorted, but complied and held onto the belt nonetheless. She didn’t feel steady yet and she didn’t want to fall into the sea, because she was too weak to ride with Reid.

She waved at Law and they were off, jetting through the night's sky.

The Red Force came into view just a few minutes later.

A bullet whistled through the air, ricocheting off the board.

Rage tapped Reid's shoulder and pointed towards the crow’s nest, signalling to take down the shooter. Reid smirked as air rushed around them when the board accelerated.

There was always some rookie who didn't recognize Reid’s distinctive board.

The pirate in the crow’s nest wasn't prepared for the attack. The board hit him square in the chest, sending him hurtling out of the nest.

Reid made a tight turn and the board landed a split second before the pirate hit the deck.

Stepping off the board, Rage faced Shanks. "Hi."

Benn stood by his captain side, while the rest of the crew crowded the deck, forming a circle around them.

"As unexpected as it is, it's good to see you, Rage," Shanks welcomed her with a gentle smile, then he nodded to Reid in greeting.

"I'm sure you never expected to see me again," she replied, mirroring his smile.

It stung to stand amongst the men she once considered family, knowing they chose to abandon her.

Shanks' smile faded, but he didn't avert his eyes.

"When I made the choice to deny Sin's request, I was prepared to face the consequences."

He decided to let her rot in prison, knowing full well how Doflamingo treated his slaves. Shanks' didn't owe her anything, but she thought that she meant something to him, to all of them.

Her heart felt as if it were being pierced by a thousand needles. It would’ve been so easy to turn the pain off. But she chose to feel everything while she faced The Red Hair Pirates.

"I killed Sin's mate three months ago," she declared and watched as Shanks' and Benn's eyes widened in shock. "I won't be returning to Sin City. I fought Kaido and my girls took down a solid number of his crew. But there won't be any bounties for our heads. We are a licensed bounty hunting crew."

"That's unexpected," Shanks' replied with raised brows. "You were never one to bow down to the World Government."

"Funny how things can change, huh?" she remarked, a sardonic smile playing on her lips. "You know what's even funnier? For the past few weeks, I've been undercover, playing the role of King the Wildfire's bastard daughter. It turns out he knew my true identity all along and he didn't care. Kaido said that my mother slept around so much there's no telling who my real father could be. It might as well be King. And for the past few weeks he was a father to me. A strict, demanding father with a heavy hand, but a father nonetheless."She glanced around, her gaze sweeping across the faces of the pirates she once considered family. Then, she locked eyes with Shanks once more. "I chopped his head off."

Reid let out a chuckle, a low, ominous sound that carried over the deathly quiet deck.

"I've come to realise that I used the term 'family' too frivolously. I even called Usopp my brother," she snorted, her eyes finding Yasopp's gaze. "You should've seen his face when Annika told him that having a pirate for a father basically meant being an orphan."

Yasopp's face contorted with pain, and he deserved every bit of it. He had dropped all his responsibilities, abandoning his wife and child for a life of adventure. He hadn't even returned for his kid when his wife died. He was just a regular piece of shit.

Her gaze then shifted back to Shanks.

"I'm not in the best shape right now and my girls are still recovering from the battle. So we'll let you go," she stated, eliciting snorts and laughter from some of the Red Hair Pirates. "But I have one more important thing to do, and after that, I'll come after all the Emperors and their crews."

"We'll be ready for you," Shanks replied with a serious expression.

"No, you won't," she retorted, turning to Reid.

They were in the air seconds later, soaring towards Wano and leaving the Red Hair Pirates behind.

As the wind rushed past, it whisked away her tears, leaving only a trail of dampness on her cheeks.

She had loved them once. They had been her first family, her home. She had been born aboard the Red Force and called them ‘dads’ all her life.

She did what she had to do, but it still hurt. Her heart hurt.

She buried her face in Reid's neck. The gushing wind carried away her tears and muffled her sobs.

Gradually, the board began to slow down. Reid turned around, took Rage in her arms and guided her to sit on the board, cradling her in a warm embrace.

The scenery changed and they were floating above a moonlit forest. The board glided gently, circling a large tree full of blossoming flowers.

No words were exchanged. Reid offered a comforting presence, silently offering her shoulder for Rage to cry on. And in that moment, that was exactly what Rage needed.

If she started speaking, she wouldn't be able to stop the river of grief.

She had lost everything she had ever considered as family. It was never perfect, but she had found a place where she belonged, with people she could call family.

Her threat to Shanks was empty. There was no way for her to survive the plan. To even attempt to strike their target, she would have to use her devil fruit extensively, which alone could kill her. And even if she managed to survive until the final step, the entire crew would likely be wiped out in retaliation.

Either way, she knew she would soon be dead.

Grief paralyzed her, making it impossible to take a breath. She gasped for air, but her lungs refused to work.

"Come on, Rage," Reid grabbed her face and forced her to look up. Reid's eyes were like dark silver pools. "Breathe with me." She took a deep breath, then let out a loud exhale. And repeated it until Rage synced with her.

Once the panic subsided, Rage let the dissociation cut off all her emotions.

"That's better," Reid praised, releasing her grip. "What now?"

"I need a haircut," she tugged at the braid that concealed the state of her hair. "And some dancing shoes."

"Coming right up, captain," Reid grinned and steered the board towards the Flower Capital.

"Hold up," the girl spy with a green bob stopped them by raising her hand. "There's a dress code you have to follow."

"What's wrong with our clothes?" Luffy asked, tilting his head to the side.

"For starters, no robes," she pointed at their kimonos. "And no 'himbo' look."

She was referring to Law, who was wearing a yellow tank top, jeans, and a feathered cape.

"Come on, we want to see what's happening inside," Luffy and Yamato whined in unison.

"First, we need to change your clothes," the girl wrinkled her nose and then turned toward the dark doorway. "Come on, don't slack off. Our guests are waiting."

A tall, scruffy man in a suit emerged from the shadows.

"Kin'emon?! What are you doing here?"

"I'd rather not explain," the samurai replied with a deep scowl.

"No time for chit-chat, there's a line forming," the girls scolded, then pointed at Law. "Black pants, white shirt, and a vest."

Kin'emon placed a piece of paper on Law's head, and the surgeon's clothes transformed into form-fitting pants and a button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves. The shirt was partially unbuttoned, showing off Law's tattoo, and the black vest emphasised his waist.

"White shirt, black pants, and a leather belt," Zoro's clothes changed in a puff of smoke.

"Leather pants and a mesh top."

Luffy's and Yamato's clothes transformed into nearly identical outfits. Yamato's mesh shirt had an opaque fabric stripe over his chest.

"Go on, don't stand there like some dolts. You're blocking the way," the girl scolded and turned to Nami and Sanji.

Zoro followed Law. The heavy beat of the music could be heard from outside, but when they stepped inside, the music was so loud that Zoro was sure he would have to yell for anyone to hear him.

The interior of the club was exactly as Rage described when they sailed with Bartolomeo.

Zoro felt as if they had been transported to one of Sin City's famed strip clubs.

The focal point was a well-lit circular stage featuring a polished and shimmering pole. Tables with chairs were strategically placed around the stage and throughout the main area. The walls were lined with booths, some of which were already occupied by patrons accompanied by Rage's crew. Waiters seamlessly weaved through the space, delivering drinks from the opulent bar lined with bar stools.

"You're right on time," someone shouted, and an arm snaked around Zoro's. He met Mira's amused gaze. The blaring music began to quiet down.

"Come on," Veronica appeared next to Law. She took the surgeon's hand and led him toward the stage. "She'll be right up.”

The doll was wearing an obscenely short black strapless dress and a pair of high heels. The dress barely covered her round ass. The ass that Law's gaze was glued to.

Zoro knew the surgeon had been attracted to the doll from the moment he saw her, just like with Rage's first mate. It only confirmed Zoro's suspicions that Law's taste in women was completely screwed. He liked them curvy, dark-haired, and crazy.

Mira tugged on his arm, leading him to the tables positioned right in front of the stage. She guided him to a seat next to Law, so they both were facing the stage.

"Heads up," Mira levelled her head with him and Law. "Daria gave Rage a cocktail of painkillers. It only enhanced her mood. If you're not into fucking in front of an audience then step away and let someone else do her."

With a pat on their shoulders she was gone.

Luffy dropped into the chair beside him, and the rest of their group followed suit.

Zoro's eyebrow shot up at the sight of Nami's outfit. Her skin-tight latex pants had a zipper that ran from her bellybutton, down between her legs, and up her ass. The stupid cook was frotting at the mouth.

"What's this?" Yamato leaned over a bowl sitting in the middle of the table.

The bowl was filled to the brim with small foil packets.

"Condoms, lube and dental dams," Veronica explained with a pleasant smile. "Provided for everyone to safely enjoy the night."

She winked at Yamato.

She plopped next to the cook and offered him a sultry smile. "I hope we can get to better know each other."

"Yes, Veronica!" Sanji gushed. "Whatever you want to know, I'm an open book! I want to know everything about you too!"

Her expression transformed into a foxy smile. "That's wonderful, darling. However, I was thinking of something more suitable for the current environment," she twirled her finger in the air. "Look around."

Zoro turned in his chair to survey the club's main floor. At the table behind them, people were taking shots from a naked woman lying on the table. Nearby, a group of people laughed loudly and drank, while there was a person under the table whose head was bobbing vigorously.

A few tables away, a scantily clad woman was dancing on top of a table. She raised her foot and placed her toes in the gaping mouth of one of the men seated there. She poured alcohol over her tight and the liquid trickled down her tan leg into the man's mouth.

The entire club seemed immersed in various forms of sexual activity, ranging from groping and fondling to a full-blown orgy taking place in a corner booth.

"This is…interesting," Yamato stated with wide eyes. "Isn't that boss Cho?"

Zoro followed his line of sight to the largest booth. There, he spotted a tall woman with opulent hair, whom he recognized as one of the yakuza bosses. She was reclining comfortably in her lace corset. In front of her, a feminine looking guy was getting railed by a big muscular man.

"Yes, that's Cho. She's a marvel," Veronica confirmed. "This establishment is owned by the Kyoshiro family. Denjiro was intrigued by the prospects of expanding his business. Apparently, every idea Rage provided him with turned out to be a huge success. He wanted to learn more about Sin City."

"So you suggested he should open a sex club?" Nami raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her pink and yellow drink that had been placed before her by the waiter a few moments earlier.

"Actually, we gave him a crash course in managing a sex club," Veronica said, reaching for her own drink. "It's still in its early stages, unrefined but promising. What do you think, darling?"

She lightly brushed her manicured fingers against Sanji's forearm.

A whole body shiver went through the cook and his eyes turned into hearts.

The cook was acting like an idiot. He poured all his nonsense over the doll.

"Are you always like this, or is this a reaction to a new situation?" the doll finally asked, her lips pressed into a straight line and her brows furrowed.

"He's more excited than usual, but it's his default reaction to women," Nami rolled her eyes.

"I see," Veronica patted the cook's hand and stood up. "I don't think this will work between us. I prefer mature men. Have a great night."

She sauntered away without another glance at the cook.

Sanji turned to stone.

Zoro found himself gaining a newfound respect for Veronica based on how she handled the cook's behaviour.

"I feel sorry for you," Zoro laughed. "She had her legs open for you, all you had to do was act half decently, shitty cook."

"You fucking moss he-"

Suddenly, the music boomed and the lights flared to life. The curtain flew open and Rage walked on the stage.

Zoro's jaw dropped.

She had short hair on the sides of her head, and the rest was cut to half its previous length, falling in loose waves on her shoulders. Her warm, brown skin was flawless and glistened in the intense light, without any visible scars or bruises.

And there was a lot of skin on display since she barely had any clothes on.

She was wearing a simple black bra and thong set over a leather garter belt, paired with platform shoes that made her legs appear long and slender.

She sauntered to the pole, moving to the rhythm of the most obscene song Zoro had ever heard.

With a cunning smile she spun around the pole.

Link

Zoro had seen her dance many times on Polar Tang. On a few occasions, she had performed solely for him and it resulted in manic sex on the gym's floor or against the nearest available flat surface.

However, this time was different.

The clothes, the music, the ambiance of the club, the energy buzzing in the bond transformed the experience into something entirely new.

He watched her climb the pole, flip and slide, bend her body and splay her legs while she rotated on the pole. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her.

If she asked he would fuck her on that stage in front of all the people gathered in the club. In front of Law and Luffy.

The music faded out, blending into another song. This one was slow and sensual.

Link

Rage moved to the rhythm, slowly undulating her body. The lights changed, accentuating her muscular, yet undeniably feminine body.

She came a long way in such a short time. Just a few months ago, she had been emaciated, barely able to board the Sunny on her own. With the help of her devil fruit powers, she gradually regained her strength. However, what truly impressed him was when she trained meticulously every day to get stronger and faster.

Now, she proudly displayed her progress for all to see. She was beautiful, fierce, and so fucking seductive.

He couldn't wait to claim her on that stage, making it known to everyone that she belonged to him.

Right on cue, her gaze locked with his. She smiled that small, lustful smile that made him crazy. The bond throbbed with power and desire. She wanted to be watched, to be fucked.

Her pupils were blown wide and Zoro realised she was high as a kite.

It didn't matter. After the cookies incident on Polar Tang, they had a talk, and she was very firm that if she was drunk or high, she still wanted them to fuck her, regardless of whether they were sober or not.

Zoro knew she was overwhelmed, meeting Shanks was the final straw that tipped her into this mindles state when all she wanted was to be fucked into oblivion. It was her way of coping with stress. She was a grown woman and he didn’t question whether or not her actions were healthy. He was going to comply with her wishes.

She stretched out her arm and beckoned him with her finger.

He was out of his seat without a second thought.

In that moment screams and crashes drowned out the music. The club turned into chaos. The women from Rage's crew, the quiet ones, started a fight with a group of half-naked men. The music abruptly stopped, and people hurriedly ran towards the exits. Zoro looked around, trying to understand what was happening.

The men were subdued and dragged to the centre of the club, their heads were pushed against the edge of the scene.

"Please," one of the half-naked Wano girls dropped to her knees in front of Karla, the woman who collected body parts as trophies. "Please, let him go, I beg of you."

The girl's hair was in disarray and her make up was smeared. Her naked breasts were covered in cigarette burns and cum.

Several other girls, equally dishevelled and bearing various marks on their bodies, stepped forward, pleading for the men to be released.

"What the fuck is happening?" Furious Mira pushed her way through the crowd, giving her crewmates a thunderous glare.

"They are not here willingly," Karla replied, pointing to the wailing girls.

"This was supposed to be a normal party, not a lure!" Mira yelled, clenching her fists.

Karla responded with a deadly glare. She pulled up the man she was holding. Blood was dripping from his nose and split cheek. The girl with cigarette burns scuttled on her knees, desperately clutching onto Karla's legs.

"Please, have mercy, let him go," she wailed, tears and snot mixing on her face.

"Tell me, why should I?" Karla drew a knife from her belt and pointed it at the man's eye.

"Please spare him," the girl continued to wail. "My baby! His family will hurt my baby if something happens to him! Please let him go!"

"You," Karla pointed to another girl who was trying to fight the woman restraining another man. The girl bore a massive burn scar across her right shoulder and arm, as well as numerous thin scars scattered across her body. Zoro knew those were left by a blade.

"Leave him alone!" the girls screamed, clawing at the dark-skinned woman.

A quick punch knocked her to the floor.

Another woman stepped forward, gripping the girl tightly and forcing her arms behind her back.

"Tell me, why should we release him?" Karla demanded, her voice was eerily calm.

The girl spat out blood and met Karla's gaze with wild, glassy eyes.

"I love him! Let him go! He's all I have! I'm so ugly that no one else would ever want me!" She trashed in the hold, trying to break free.

"Who made you ugly? Who gave you the scars?" Karla's voice held a cold edge.

The girl stopped moving, her glassy eyes glided over the scene without comprehension.

"He did, didn't he?" the dark-skinned woman pulled upright the man she was restraining.

"I was bad, a disgrace," the girl squeaked out, freezing in place. "I deserved to be punished."

A surge of icy fury coursed through Zoro's veins. The girl had been tortured and manipulated to the point where she believed she deserved every ounce of pain inflicted upon her. What vile things had she endured behind closed doors?

He looked around the club, scrutinised all the men that were held down, beaten bloody. He knew more was coming and they wouldn't leave the club in one piece or even alive. They deserved everything that the Raging Witches would do to them.

"You will pay for this!" one of the men growled, his eyes filled with anger. "Every single one of you will be executed for this!"

His expression turned to shock as a knife plunged into his abdomen. The wild redhead who had previously attacked Sanji leaped towards the man, gripping the knife and pulling it out with a deranged grin.

"Karla," Mira growled, several of the other women were standing by her side. "This wasn't what we agreed on."

"I don't care," Karla retorted. "Rage doesn't seem to object."

Zoro's brows furrowed as his gaze landed on Rage. She was standing by the pole, looking down on the bloody scene. Her eyes were empty and so was the bond.

This wasn't like the usual dissociation, this was a complete shutdown.

Luffy climbed onto the scene and approached Rage. Gently, he took her hand and turned her to face him. In the platform shoes she was a lot taller than him, causing him to tilt his head upwards to meet her gaze.

"Come on," Luffy took a step back, pulling her along. "Let's leave this place."

To Zoro's surprise, Rage followed, allowing Luffy to lift her down from the stage, holding her by the waist. However, her movements were mechanical, as if she would have followed anyone willing to take her away. The bond remained empty.

A firm grip on his shoulder made him turn around, and there stood Law, his gaze fixed on Luffy and Rage making their way to the exit. "Go with them. Make sure she's alright. I'll stay here."

The icy stillness in the bond matched Law’s cold stare when his gaze switched from Zoro to the people in front of them.

Zoro wasn't sure if Law wanted to stay to help Mira get the crew in check or to join Karla in cutting up the bastards.

Zoro nodded in acknowledgment and turned towards the door, catching sight of Nami's vibrant orange hair.

She stood frozen, wide-eyed, her face a mix of disgust and horror as she observed the scene. She didn't see Zoro walking by and he wouldn't have left her there in that state, but Sanji was right by her side. The cook took a drag of his cigarette, as he locked eyes with Zoro. The hard stare assured Zoro that Sanji would do anything to keep Nami safe.

As Zoro made his way towards the door, he ran into Kin'emon. Pushing the samurai outside, he closed the door behind them. "There's nothing more to see here, Kin'emon. Go back to the palace."

"This is not right," the samurai’s expression grew grim.

"You're the shogun's vassal, think carefully what would happen if you choose to defend the men inside. What message would it send to the people of Wano? Would you be any different from Orochi or Kaido?"

"There should be a trial," Kin'emon protested. "They should be executed as a warning that such atrocities will not be tolerated."

"Listen to me," Zoro snapped. "You weren't here. Go back to the palace. What comes next is none of your concern or the shogun's. Rage will handle her crew, and they'll be out of your hair soon. If you want a trial to set an example, I'm sure she can provide you with plenty more abusers than the handful of shitbags inside."

"Listen to him, Kin'emon," Yamato chimed in, appearing beside them. "We weren't here. Let's join the others at the palace. We had a great time with Luffy during the festival, and let's leave it at that."

"One last thing before you go," Rita's quiet voice resonated in the night. She stood in the middle of the street, cradling a sleeping child in her arms. She approached them and positioned the child so that Kin'emon could have a look.

The kid could be no more than two years old, his head seemed to be too big compared to the rest of his thin body. Deep dark circles surrounded his swollen eyes, similar to how

Usopp's eyes looked, after he took a serious hit to the head during a fight.

"This child belongs to one of the girls inside," Rita explained. "This is the fate of children born into slavery. Remember this face, and may it inspire changes in the laws of this country."

Was this what Rage dealt with? How many children has she seen in such a state? How many women like the ones inside had she dragged away from the clutches of their abusers?

Zoro turned on his heel and followed the pull of the bond.

It didn't take long for him to catch up to them. Luffy held Rage's hand, guiding her through the streets of the Flower Capital. Both of them were dressed in kimonos and sandals, thanks to Kin'emon’s quick thinking to change their club attire into something more suitable for public appearance.

Rage was still shut down, following Luffy mindlessly. Zoro trailed a short distance behind.

Despite her state, the swordsman believed that Rage had some level of awareness of her surroundings and the people she was with. Her choice to follow Luffy sparked hope in Zoro that her hostility towards his captain could be resolved. Maybe this was an opportunity for their relationship to improve if Luffy didn't fumble the situation.

At the palace, Rage stopped and let go of Luffy's hand. Zoro stood just a few steps behind her, waiting for her reaction. The bond stirred slightly.

"Do you know what split children are?" her voice was almost unrecognisable, hollow and grave.

Luffy turned to her and stared without a word.

"It's what they do to make children easy to brainwash. They electrocute the foetus in the mother’s womb. If the baby is breached it's raped while it's still partially in the birth canal. The pain and stress causes irreversible damage to the child's nervous system, making them ideal slaves, easy to manipulate and program with anything their owner wants."

It felt like a punch to the gut. He was feeling sick and angry at the same time. Why did people commit such atrocities?

"Rage," Luffy's voice cracked. "Please, look at me."

"I'm looking at you."

"Do you? Be here with us. Leave the memories behind. Just for tonight. Be with us."

Was it a good idea to bring her out of her numbness? Were they ready to face the pain and sorrow she carried? Could they truly comfort someone so deeply wounded?

Zoro stepped forward and took her hand. It felt freezing cold.

"What do you need?" he asked.

She turned her empty eyes towards him. He didn't like that look on her.

"I want a break from everything," she hoarsely replied.

"You're safe with us, we won't let anyone bother you," he reassured her, gently squeezing her hand. "Do you want to go to sleep?"

"Yes."

"Okay.”

They managed to find her room without any help, which was a miracle. Did Luffy memorise where her room was?

The futon on the floor was only big enough for one person, but there were three thick covers.

Luffy untied the belt of Rage’s kimono and removed her clothes, leaving the last layer on.

She stood there shivering, as if she was cold.

Zoro undressed himself and pulled her down onto the bed. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his front against her back.

Luffy slipped under the covers and embraced both Rage and Zoro, resting his forehead against Rage's.

She continued to shiver, her body tense and her skin cold.

"It's okay," Luffy silently reassured her. "You're going to be okay."

"Nothing is okay," she responded in that hollow voice. "It's been fucked up for too long."

"Give yourself a break," Luffy insisted. "Right now, you can let go. Try to relax, you're shaking."

"I'm cold."

"We'll warm you up," Luffy promised.

His hand rubbed her side as their legs tangled together. Somehow, Zoro's leg ended up trapped between theirs.

Rage was his mate, but in that moment, he felt like a third wheel. He didn't know how to comfort her the way Luffy did. Until now, he had always been the one to tell her to snap out of her wallowing. Soft care wasn't his specialty.

Luffy's hands caressed Rage, spreading warmth across her skin. He nuzzled her forehead and cheeks with silent affection. At some point, he guided Zoro's hand to trace over her skin, mirroring his own actions. It was slow, tender, and gentle.

Zoro closed his eyes and buried his face in her hair, searching for her scent beneath the heavy perfume she wore.

He allowed Luffy to guide his hand and let the sensations of the bond flow freely.

Rage's emptiness slowly melted away, replaced by warmth and heartache. The bond overflowed with so much yearning, it was suffocating.

A sound must’ve escaped him, because Luffy's fingers found their way into his hair, stroking him comfortingly.

He could handle it. He had taken all of Luffy's pain on Thriller Bark, so he could take on Rage's pain too.

Luffy held the back of his head, his fingers gently pressing into his scalp.

Beside him, Rage released a silent sigh of relief.

The intense ache in the bond receded to a dull throb.

Zoro lifted his head to look over Rage's shoulder.

They were kissing. It was a slow, tender kiss. Luffy had his eyes closed, and his face was relaxed.

It didn't feel or look sexual. There was no arousal in the bond. It was purely for comfort.

He wanted to be a part of it.

He placed a kiss on her shoulder, then trailed up her neck, leaving soft kisses along the rim of her earlobe before pressing his lips to her temple.

She sighed again.

Vulnerability appeared in the bond, along with trembling trust.

Zoro loosened his hold and gently guided her to lie on her back.

Her eyes no longer looked empty; instead, they held a helpless vulnerability.

He cupped her cheek and leaned down to press a reassuring kiss on her lips.

Luffy's hand glided along his spine, and then a set of lips pressed a kiss on his shoulder blade. Meanwhile, his other hand slipped into Rage's hair.

Where was this tenderness coming from? Luffy had never treated him like this before. They fucked and that was it. This was how he treated Nami—it was what she taught him.

But none of that mattered. It felt good, and finally, Rage relaxed into their touches.

She traced her palm along Zoro’s side, her cold fingers seeping warmth from his skin.

He didn't care; he would give all his warmth just to make her feel better.

He released her lips and leaned back to look into her eyes. The distressed yellow of her irises had almost faded, replaced by a soft brown colour.

She cradled his face in her palms, and the bond swelled with affection.

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

This was love—she didn't need to say it; it was all in the bond.

He brushed her hair away from her face and placed his palm on her cheek.

He had never experienced such a profound connection with another person. It left him feeling dazed.

Every emotion she felt, she felt it deeply—like the love that radiated from her side of the bond.

Zoro had loved her for far longer than she had loved him. He loved Law and Luffy, but his feelings were far less intense compared to what he sensed from Rage.

No wonder she shut down her emotions so often. With the ability to feel so deeply, she must have experienced pain just as intensely as everything else.

But not with him. In that moment, he wanted her to envelop him in the warm love that filled the bond to the brim.

This night belonged to them.

The corners of her mouth lifted in a gentle, grateful smile.

She turned her head and looked past Zoro.

He followed her gaze and found Luffy sitting beside them, wearing a contented smile.

Zoro reached out and pulled his captain into a one-armed hug.

Luffy chuckled softly and returned the embrace. He smelled of seabreeze and Rage's perfume.

Rage's arms encircled them, pulling them down to lie partly on top of her.

She caressed the back of Zoro's head and nuzzled against Luffy's temple. Her eyes fell shut, and contentment flowed through the bond.

Zoro relaxed on the futon, drawing Rage and Luffy closer. Rage rested her head on his bicep, while Luffy settled his head on Zoro's outstretched arm, so close to Rage that his lips brushed against her cheek.

They became a tangle of limbs, lying on a single futon and cocooned under thick covers.

A quiet sigh escaped from Rage's lips, and the sensations from the bond slowly faded into a gentle lull of sleep.

Zoro held Luffy's gaze over sleeping Rage. He squeezed the younger man's waist in silent gratitude.

Thanks to Luffy, Rage had broken free from the numbness and despair. Zoro knew he couldn't have managed it on his own.

Luffy squeezed Zoro's arm in return and a wide, sleepy smile appeared on his face.

His eyes drifted shut, and he fell asleep within seconds.

Zoro laid awake gazing at the two dark-haired people in his arms.

He had sex with Rage so many times he lost count, but he never felt this intimate with her. She had never behaved like this during sex, it was always about physical pleasure, never about emotions. The bond helped during sex, intensified the sensations and made it easier to know when something felt good for her. But she never got emotional during or after sex. She would always be content, smile, or tease him into another round.

This situation allowed him a glimpse into a hidden part of Rage that she didn't show to anyone. Zoro wanted to know that part of her—the good, the ugly, the vulnerable, and everything in between

And Luffy seemed to be the key to unlocking the part he knew the least.

He gently squeezed Luffy's side, causing the captain to stir and nuzzle his face into Rage's neck. In her sleep, she leaned her head and pressed her cheek against Luffy's hair.

With a smile on his face, Zoro drifted off to sleep, hoping for more moments like this in the future.

A forceful tug on his legs and a loud crash jolted him awake. Startled, he sat up straight and surveyed his surroundings.

The sun was barely up, casting a soft, dim light into the room.

Rage sat at the foot of the futon, untangling her foot from one of the comforters.

Did she just fall because her foot got caught? Rage was many things, but clumsiness was not one of them.

"Why are you up so early?" Luffy's voice sounded raspy from sleep.

"I'm always up early," she replied, getting up without sparing them a glance.

She opened a sliding door to a built- in closet and pulled out some clothes. The white robe slid to the floor and revealed her naked backside.

Zoro’s cock stirred at the sight of her fabulous ass. Memories of her dancing the previous night rushed his mind and all his blood went south.

"Later," Rage firmly stated, slipping into a pair of black underwear resembling boxers. "I have to sort out my crew first."

"I'll come with you," Zoro replied, reaching for his discarded kimono.

"Suit yourself," she absentmindedly replied.

Rage put on black leggings, thick socks, an undershirt, and a long-sleeved shirt. Over that, she donned the tactical gear her crew wore when they arrived in Wano—black pants with a leather belt, textile harnesses on both thighs carrying knives, a zip-up thick shirt with a high collar and another knife harness, and a heavy jacket with numerous pockets that she zipped up to her chin. Completing her attire, she put on her boots.

From one of the pockets, she pulled out a pack of gum, took a piece, and placed it in her mouth. She offered one to Zoro, which he took automatically without much thought.

She looked impressive in her outfit.

"What are you doing?" she asked, turning to Luffy.

He stood dressed in his kimono, ready to go out. "I'm going with you," he replied with a toothy smile.

"Why?" She looked at him with a flat expression.

"I've made a promise to Mira."

She stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. She tossed him a piece of gum and walked out the door.

The palace was still quiet, but the city streets were beginning to stir. He and Luffy were dressed in kimonos, blending in with the locals. However, Rage's clothes stood out and people were stopping to stare at her.

She ignored everyone until they reached the club.

"Good morning, Yosuke," she greeted a man leaning against the entrance wall.

"Good morning, Reiju-san," the man straightened up, his face turning pale.

"Rita," Rage turned her gaze towards the door, and the spy woman emerged from the shadows. "Is everyone here?"

The older woman nodded.

"Are they done?"

"Yes. Your mate helped keep things reasonable. Seven women and a child are kept inside for the time being."

"Yosuke, please inform Denjiro to take in the women that are currently in the building. Send someone over to escort them to a safe location."

The man nervously bowed and hurried away without a word or a glance.

Rage pushed open the door and stepped inside the building.

The club was empty and organised. The floors had been freshly mopped, and all the chairs were stacked on the tables.

Rage placed her fingers to her lips and let out a loud whistle.

A moment later people filed into the room from every available entrance.

To Zoro's surprise, Nami walked in, followed by Law and Sanji. They all looked rough around the edges as if they didn't sleep a wink all night. Nami held the child that Rita had brought during the night.

Law approached them, but instead of joining them, he took a seat on a barstool.

"Having fun meddling with my crew?" Rage asked him.

"You meddled with mine," he deadpanned.

She walked towards Nami and gave Law a pat on the shoulder as she passed him. Then she reached out and gently brushed the child's hair.

"Do you still think I fit with your crew?" she asked, looking at Nami.

"No," the navigator answered without hesitation.

"Told you," Rage turned to face her crew. "I met with the Red Hair crew last night. I informed them that they are no longer considered family and that we will be going after them soon."

Agitated whispers carried around the room. Some of the girls looked worried, while others smiled widely.

"So, I needed that night to decompress and instead you made it all about yourselves," she looked directly at Karla. "You know what happens when someone yucks my yum."

"You need to regain your strength, Rage," the stoic woman replied.

"I'll do what I want, when I want, and you will dance when I tell you to. No questions asked," her tone was calm, as if she was stating facts. "Sin City's rules no longer apply. You made a decision on that beach to follow me. If any of you have second thoughts, you can challenge me for the captain's title or leave."

"You talk big, while you barely have the strength to back it up," one of the quiet girls spoke up.

"Let's find out," Rage didn't sound bothered. In the bond she remained calm and collected. "Training in fifteen. Full gear, two clicks south-west from the south gate. Last one there gets paired with Kira. Reid's my ride."

"Hey, why do we all have to go when we didn't do shit?" The pink-haired mechanic objected loudly.

"Yeah," the medic chimed in, her face turning red. "I was up all night patching up the bitches in the back and the spawn here. I want to catch some sleep, not deal with your bullshit."

Rage turned to Sanji and reached into his jacket, pulling out his cigarettes. She took one and placed it between her lips. She brought up the lighter and lit the cigarette. After a long drag, she put the lighter into the pack and gave it back to Sanji.

She pulled the cigarette away from her lips and slowly blew out the smoke towards the ceiling. "Fourteen minutes."

Some of the crew watched her with wide eyes.

"Fucking Karla! You stupid cunt! I'm gonna euthanize you the first chance I get!" The medic screamed at the top of her lungs while running to the door with the rest of the crew.

The club emptied within seconds, leaving behind only the echoing sounds of the crew's stomping and yelling.

"I'll be done with them by sunset," Rage slid onto a barstool next to Law. She took another slow drag of the cigarette and blew the smoke away from Law. Then she turned to the surgeon with a small smile. "How about the three of us go on a date in the evening?"

Zoro blinked. Did he hear her right? A date?

She took another drag and winked at Zoro.

He didn't like seeing her smoke. It didn't suit her.

"Are you fucking serious?" Nami fumed. She handed the kid to Sanji and stomped towards Rage. "You're making plans for a date while there are literal body parts behind the house and tortured women sleeping in the back?"

"Denjiro's people will be here soon to take the girls away. The family will take care of them. I'll have to leave in a minute, so I'd appreciate it if you could babysit until they arrive."

"You act like you have everything under control, but you weren't here last night! You were fucking my nakama while your crew butchered those men!"

Rage snorted and took the final drag of the cigarette. "I'm sure you enjoyed watching them die."

A loud slap reverberated from the walls as Nami's hand connected with Rage's face.

Rage didn't budge, she stayed still and stared at the redhead. Her eyes shifted to the toxic yellow as the bond turned icy.

"Fucking hell! Step away from her, you idiot!" Reid yanked Nami back and stood between her and Rage. "I'm ready, let's just go," she pleaded, removing her necklace shaped like a small surfboard.

Why was she so frantic? It didn't feel like Rage would strike Nami back.

"You have been a thief for a pirate crew since you were ten, right?" Rage's gaze was glued to Nami's face. "You stole treasure to buy back your village from the fishman. I imagine there were times when you found yourself in a tight spot. Unable to obtain anything significant, you became desperate. Maybe you met someone who gave you the idea, or you saw some other kid doing it. You picked out your target, made contact and he offered to take you home. All you had to do was lay there until he was done, then cry for him to let you sleep in his house because you had nowhere else to go. Then, in the middle of the night, you cleaned out his safe and went on your way."

What was she talking about? Why did she have to say something like that to Nami? But one look at his nakama made his heart sink.

Nami’s horrified face went pale and her eyes turned glassy.

"You see, that's why I said you enjoyed last night. Because those scumbags were just like the ones you robbed. It's good to see that trash like them get the punishment they deserve. It's cathartic." Rage put out the cigarette in the ashtray on the bar and stood up. "But you seem to think you're better than this, that you should condemn me and my girls for what we do and how we do it. I don't appreciate the hypocrisy. Don't ever try to fuck with me again, because you won't win."

She nodded to Reid, and together they walked towards the exit. Just before opening the door, Rage turned to face Nami once again.

"Don't tear into Zoro. It was Usopp who told me everything about your merry crew. He tends to overshare after ten shots of tequila."

With those words, she left the bar.

The situation was a fucking mess.

"I'm off. See you tonight," unceremoniously Law strode out the door.

Nami kept her head bowed, her fists tightly clenched. The bar fell into silence, everyone was rooted in their spots.

Zoro felt torn. Nami was his nakama, but Rage was his mate.

Finally, Luffy stepped forward and spoke gently, "Can I touch you?"

Nami replied with a choked-up voice, "Why would you want to do that? She told the truth, and you should be disgusted."

"You're not disgusting," Luffy stated firmly. "I regret letting Arlog live. I should've killed him for everything he did to you."

Tears rolled down Nami’s cheeks as a strangled sob escaped her. "I almost forgot about all of that. I wanted to forget it so bad. It got easier when I was with all of you," she reached out and grasped Luffy's hand. "She brings out all the memories just by being who she is and doing what she does. This was the first time she did it on purpose, but I still hate everything about her and her crew. I don't want to be like them, bitter and hateful. I want to forget and move on."

Nami’s words struck a chord. "Rage tried that too, it didn't work for her,” Zoro spoke up.

The navigator raised her head, her eyes were red and puffy. She brushed away the tears with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry, I'll get a grip and stay out of her way until we set sail. This issue won't be a problem because she's not coming with us."

"That's not your decision to make," Zoro gruffly objected.

"No, it's hers. I'm sorry Luffy, I know you've made a promise, but she has no intentions of joining us."

#one piece #roronoa zoro #trafalgar law #one piece fanfic #smut #zolu #lawzoro #shanks #red haired shanks #akagami no shanks #law x reader #zoro x law #zoro roronoa x reader #nami #sanji #luffy #straw hat luffy

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celestie0 · 5 months ago

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ouuu my dear flowie. i am long overdue in responding to this reblog, but just know that i read it when you originally posted it and it made my entire day, my entire week, my entire month, dare i say my entire YEARRR...your reblogs give me enough serotonin to last a lifetime. singlehandedly add years to my lifespan

live picture of me reading your reblog reviews of my fics:

I would let him give me a hundred thousand, even a billion headaches. Kickoff! Gojo deserves everything. Trust me. I would let no harm come to him.My man is a puppy in love with how he’s following reader around, tell me ellie, what do i need to do to manifest him? He’s so adorable aaaaaaahhhh my heart is bursting.

PLEASE A PUPPY IN LOVE IS SO ACCURATE THATS P MUCH KICKOFF GOJO. and yess his ways of charming are so unconventional :''') he got that pretty boy privilege and has never had to charm a woman lolol

but please all he needed to enter a bush was a little sound, he has 0 survival skills.

OMG NAMING THE CAT MEGUMI PLS THAT WOULDVE BEEN CUTE AND ALSO SO CANON. but yea kickoff gojo has zero survival skills how he hasn't been kidnapped yet up until this point is a miracle

Why do acting like you found them fucking publicly 💀😭 (is it the effect of seeing two pretty people together? Must be) i understand him.

girl yes anytime i see a hot guy in public just staring at him feels like having public copulation xddd its sumn ab the hot people

Especially with how she feels Gojo wouldn’t really understand her situation because he has never faced it, it’s the disguised-kinda covered element of helplessness mixed with embarrassment for me when i want to convey the social anxiety but cannot because people expect otherwise of me.

aww bb i'm sorry ab that, yea it's kinda crazy how we have attributes we associate w ourselves but then because of that, we're not able to give ourselves grace to differ from those attributes. but i totally think ppl are multifaceted and we can surprise ourselves w straying from our norm. like ig reader has stage fright but she also slapped tf out of a man at a bar in ch9 LOL...but anywho yes i hear youuu

The best part about kickoff is the sheer realism and relatability that readers feel when reading it. You write about stuffs that university students deal with, and you aren’t just making us live our dream of dating a man as beautiful as gojo but also giving us a voice and lending us an ear. You are hearing us and making sure we feel validated. Especially when you talk about insecurities related to career, that is something not a lot of fics do, they make us perfect, but you perfect our flaws, you let us shine through them. That’s a huge thing to achieve I believe. Like nothing in kickoff feels superficial even with those glowing blue eyes and white hair of the freak. Sorryyy!!!!

AAAAAAA flowie thank u so much i could cry fr :''') i'm so glad the realism comes off. yes i think...hmm i think career is so difficult to navigate in college, esp along w romance. in my romantic experiences in college, i always felt like they went hand in hand w my career stress. like wondering if i'm spending too much time thinking ab boys lol, or being w guys that didn't really value my career goals or even care about them. i miss my college campus clubs and my fellow club board members sooo much, i had sm fun organizing events w them and i think writing this chapter really took me back to that time. like idk just doing fun stuff w someone, like reader n gojo in this chapter, those moments are so priceless to me than something that might be an actual date or sumn, if that makes sense. but i'm so glad the story makes you feel validated, ik you were also in debate clubs in school so i think it's so cool how despite all the different careers n niches n interest (like idk anything ab film clubs lmfaoo) we all can still kinda relate to that feeling of ambition paired w insecurity

I love it when people praise our abilities by honouring our actions, that’s very meaningful and appreciative. Like he could have just told she’s all that, but him adding instances added much value to his sentiments.

YAAASS PREACHH i love it when people mention specific actions when they state a positive character trait xD makes me feel seen. kickoff gojo def sees reader in ways she doesn't see herself. also awww yes his dad would be so proud of him :'')

ihm! Reader and kickoff! Reader will have a great time together as the two gojos play golf together while one tries to pitch the other in to buy a house as the other one argues that soccer is the better sport.

LOLOL wait that's so cute i need to see this happen bahahah. i feel like ihm reader & kickoff reader would like not have much in common while kickoff gojo and ihm gojo would have a younger bro older bro relationship where they're just bickering all the time pls. and then the girls can relate to how annoying their boyfriend/husband is

i think as students we have all cried over missed opportunities or the lack of them, it’s feels nice to have that representation over here, and he ensures everybody feels seen and doesn’t take away from reader’s shine as she doesn’t from her juniors, again very endearing.

yes yes yes :'') i've def cried before because i felt like all my hard work wasn't going to bigger places like i wanted it to be. but like in the words of emma from one day: "it's not about changing the world, it's about changing the little bit around you." i think gojo using his influence for good in this chapter was my favorite part to write, yknow he's not just a dumb frat dude that gloats about partying and winning games n stuff on his social media, but he knows that he can help make a difference w it too! i def think kickoff reader really fell in love w him a little bit in this chapter. and omggg bb sorry for the TEARS!!! but i hope it was comforting happy tears <3 i'm so glad you feel seen! that's all i want to accomplish w my writing

AHH THANKS SM FOR YOUR REVIEW FLOWIE BB THEY MEAN THE WORLD TO ME <33 i look forward to them soooo much, i get so giddy to see them!! much love from meee to youuu

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.10 a fresh start

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 10/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 10.5k

a/n. hiii!! welcome to ch10!! if you’re confused about the word count, i decided to split up the original ch10 of kickoff (which was 31k words) into three installments (read more here) and sooo this is the first installment :0 i really hope you enjoy! i think this is a pretty chill chapter so no warnings or anything hahha. i’ll see you at the bottom :”)

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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

“Let me take you out on a date.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m busy.”

“You look like you could use a break.”

“You look like you should go bother someone else.”

“I don’t want to bother someone else, I want to bother you.”

You sigh, sitting back on your heels in the chair that you’ve been balancing yourself on for the past hour or so within the business building, room 202, not sure if it’s the paint fumes coming off the brush you’re holding in your hand that’s giving you the headache or if it’s the incessant pestering of the man sitting beside you.

It’s a Tuesday afternoon and you’re working on painting a poster for the Film Club photography showcase that’s happening later tonight, and what you thought would be a peaceful moment to yourself turned into what it is now since you ran into Gojo in the hallway as he was making his way out of class, and of course he decided to follow you around like a duckling after that.

You glance to the right. He’s still got his backpack on as he sits slumped in the chair beside you, with his presentation of washed out black jeans, a hoodie that’s a shade of void darker with UTokyo Men’s D1 Soccer heat-pressed printing across in jock lettering and he’s got the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair looks thoroughly kempt for once, and not slick with sweat like it usually is on the field, or tousled from the amount of times he runs his hands through it when he’s concentrated or frustrated. But he might start now, given you’re not budging at all to his advances.

“You know how nice it would be?” he says to you with his own version of a blissful sigh, resting his elbow on the conference table and setting his chin on top of his palm, and the way he leans into your space makes you subconsciously lean into him too. “We could go out for dinner, maybe by the beach, order dessert, you wear something nice–”

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“N-Not that you don’t always wear nice things–” His eyes briefly sweep down your form, in which you’re awkwardly sitting still with your paintbrush pinched between your fingers in mid air, and then he vaguely gestures to you, “I just mean something nicer,” this time, you feign an offended scoff, “wait, no, that came out wrong, I mean–”

“Satoru,” you interrupt him, bending over the table to dip your bristles into some blue paint in the palette at the other end, “I'm actually very busy right now, so I don’t really have the mental real estate to deal with your sales pitches on why I should let you take me out on a date.”

You can see in your peripheral vision that his eyes are on you, and you only flick your gaze to his face when you notice it’s the longest he’s been silent this entire time, and you find that he’s taking in the sight of you bent over this table. He snaps out of it when you sit back into your chair.

“And you constantly staring at my ass doesn’t exactly charm me, either.”

He glances over his shoulder for a brief second, as if to confirm the emptiness of this room, then grabs your chair to roll you towards him in between the space he’s created by the obnoxious amount of spread to his legs, and you wobble a little due to your seated position on your heels. A gasp leaves your lips at how close his face is now, and his hands hold onto the armrests of your chair to make sure it stays that way. “What do I have to do to charm you?”

You blink at him for a few, startled as you take in the serious expression on his face, and his eyes are so captivating you have trouble finding words. You know why he’s asking—because he’s teetering on an edge of desperation that’s evident in the way he can’t seem to tear his gaze away from your lips, like he’s just one slip of self control away from refusing your denial of him and closing this distance between the two of you that you seem so intent on torturing him with.

“I–” you start, and you grab onto his forearm with the excuse of gaining balance, the texture of a vein pulsing felt underneath your palm, “...I don’t know, figure it out.”

It’s a lame response, but you just can’t explain it. One week of him pining after you didn’t feel like enough, not after all the suffering he put you through after he rejected you, and maybe it was a little petty but you just liked seeing him chase after you because it felt like you finally had the power, the control, and that’s exactly why you don’t have an answer for him. But also, in your defense, his attempts to charm you so far have been………….rather unique and odd, and you’re starting to wonder if he’s ever had to “court” a woman before. Actions that have you realizing pretty privilege might really be a thing since he’s gotten this far despite his strange decision making.

Like earlier this week when he showed up to your apartment with flowers, but of course it wasn’t one of those sweet bouquets you’re always eyeing from the check-out line at Trader Joe’s, no–this man had pilfered an arrangement of roses and marigolds and tulips and dandelions from the park downtown near the city library while he was on a morning run and then showed up at your apartment with them in his hand. It annoyed you, because it was six in the morning, so not only did the ring of the doorbell wake you up but you also became annoyed at the early-morning reminder about how you’re not someone like Gojo who wakes up at the crack of dawn to casually go on eight mile runs (your biggest fear is marrying someone that wakes up at 5am on a Sunday to go on hikes and he unfortunately seems the type). But when you fluffed up those flowers in a vase at the kitchen counter a few hours after you shoo’d him away all in the name of getting a few more minutes of shuteye, you noticed the softness of the stems on the roses, and you realized he plucked each of the thorns off one by one before giving them to you.

He also showed up to your door yesterday, with twigs and leaves in his ruffled hair, a tear through his nylon shirt, and a small tuxedo kitten in the palm of his hand. When you asked him where he found the tiny thing, he said he heard something crying in the bushes while he was walking somewhere. And you figured that’s all the sensory input he would’ve needed to walk through ivy and thorns to find it. Something about I don’t know, I thought you’d think it’s cute and you’d wanna keep it, and you took it from him, the tiny thing so adorable and just a little puff ball in your hands, and most definitely covered in fleas. And then you started crying, because you remembered you can’t keep animals in your apartment. And then he started panicking because he didn’t know why you were crying and he tried to comfort you and that only made it worse and you kicked him out of your apartment with the tiny fluff baby too so as not to get attached, and you’re sure he still has absolutely no clue what he did wrong.

That’s how you would describe his efforts, in all honesty. But a part of you knows that he’s trying. You’re not entirely sure why that’s his definition of trying, but you haven’t thought a lot about what dating him would look like. You were so caught up in how you felt about him, and whether he felt the same, but you never thought a step forward after that. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said you could handle staying away from him any longer.

By the way, Gojo kept the kitten. He’s still working on a name but he’s thinking Grand Theft Auto just so he can say ain’t no way got GTA cat before GTA6.

“All you are is pain and suffering,” he says. “You know that, right?” He rolls your chair even closer, to where the momentum has you threatening to fall right into him, so your hand moves from his forearm to his shoulder, and you're starting to get suspicious he’s trapping you in his personal space.

“You’ll learn to manage it,” you say to him, voice hushed, and you see it in his face that your words excite him.

It’s hard to think straight when those eyes are on you, and after a solid minute of just staring at your lips, he moves his gaze up to level with yours to prove some level of restraint. But what he can’t keep himself from doing is placing a hand on your thigh, pressure soft as his fingers press into the fabric of your jeans, and the movement is slow when he slides his palm up to grip your hip but with more intent.

Your hand that was grasping onto his shirt starts inching towards his neck until it settles on the curve where it meets his shoulder, and your fingers lightly brush against the texture of the hair at his nape. His eyes are still on yours, even with the test of your tongue swiping across your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you,” he says, and it would sound like a demand if he didn’t say it so breathlessly. His other hand also reaches out to grip onto your hips, urging you more towards him. Another shift forward and you’d be sitting in his lap.

“Oh, we’re asking for permission now?” you chastise, thumb pressing into his neck. He sucks a breath in through his teeth, and now his gaze drops to your lips.

“Yeah, ‘cause last time you were pissed about it.”

You almost roll your eyes. “Wow, my audacity,” you comment sarcastically.

“Just give it to me,” he says, face tilting, the perfect amount to kiss you if you just gave him– “the permission.”

Your breathing picks up when he leans forward, your eyes hooded slightly on reflex, and you’re both staring at each other's lips like it was stupid you’re not kissing right now.

The slam of the door startles you, and being one inch away from him turns into a foot of distance as your head turns to face the entrance of the room. Gojo’s still gripping onto your hips, keeping your chair close to him, and you’re shifting your body weight on your heels as you try to pull off his hold of you until he finally relents and releases.

There’s a student standing at the door, posture slumped as he holds a binder to his chest, and you can tell he’s probably a first or second year with the way he’s wide-eyed and just staring. When he realizes you’re waiting for him to speak, he jumps a little. “Oh! Uh, is this…where the Film Club showcase is happening?”

You straighten your posture, in a way that means business, and struggle a little to untuck your legs from your seated position on your chair to then stand up onto your feet with a bristling sensation of nerves in them when you realize they had fallen asleep. “Yes! Yes, it is. B202, you’ve got the right place,” you say and manage an awkward smile.

The student’s gaze shifts to Gojo, who you see in your peripheral vision is leaning back in his chair, knee swinging side to side and arms crossed at his chest. You want to tell him to sit up straight and not look so nonchalant in the presence of a stranger, but there are some things about a person you can’t really change.

You see the moment in the student’s eyes when he recognizes Gojo, and those wide eyes somehow become even wider. “Woah,” is all he says with a few blinks.

“Um,” you say, taking a step forward, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” You feel eyes on your back as Gojo watches the interaction.

“Haru!” he says, “I think I messaged the club’s Instagram page last week…not sure if you’re the person I talked to.”

“Oh, yes, I remember,” you say and introduce yourself to him again. “Thank you for coming, but the event actually doesn’t start for a while…”

“Oh, my bad,” he says, “I’ll…” his gaze flickers to behind you, “...come back soon then.”

You purse your lips together and politely nod before he exits the room and you let out the breath you were holding, face wincing a little from the awkward interaction.

You turn on your heel to head back to the table, and you see Gojo still slumped in his chair looking at you with curiosity.

“Okay, seriously, please stop distracting me,” you say as you take a seat on your chair again and pick up your paint brush, “I need to finish this now, because I won’t have time before the event tonight.”

“Why won’t you have time before?” he asks, tapping on his phone screen to check the time. “It’s at six, right?”

“Yes, but I have to finish this poster, and then rehearse my presentation. And then I have to get the supplies from my professor’s room, and also need to go get the pizza and refreshments, and–”

“And why are you doing all this by yourself?” he asks, setting his elbow on the desk and leaning his cheek against the knuckles of his curled hand. He pulls the hood of his hoodie over his head.

You sigh. “The other board members were busy this week. With midterms and stuff. I mean, I’m busy too, but this is a really important event.” You sneak a glance at him, and his earnest attention is suddenly making you feel nervous. “It’s the freshman & sophomore students’ chances to show off their works in a large capacity, and talk to some people about their photos, even book some shoots if there’s a decent turnout.” He nods at you thoughtfully. “Anyways,” you say, directing our attention back to your poster, “I didn’t want to cancel it, so I just figured I’d take on the job. But I wasn’t expecting any distractions.” You regard him with an annoyed flick of your eyes in his direction.

He hums softly, and you use his silence to get lost in your thoughts for a moment. You still need to rehearse the presentation slides, and it could be the exhaustion you’ve faced in the past week that causes you to shake a little from the anticipation of speaking in front of people, but you realize that you’re nervous. Nervous to publicly speak. Nobara usually does these sorts of things as the president, you’ve always opted out to do more of the behind-the-scenes as vice, but there’s this feeling you’ve got that makes you realize if this event doesn’t go smoothly, there’s no one to blame but you.

You glance over at Gojo for a second, who has been watching you this whole time, and he raises an eyebrow in question. You blink, and shake your head slightly, as if to say oh, nothing and then your eyes slowly travel back to the brush in your hand.

“Are you nervous?” he asks you.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Huh?” you squeak out before looking at him.

He uses a jerk of his chin to point to your hand. “You’re shaking.”

You look down at your hand, and notice it is indeed trembling slightly, and you're about to hold your wrist with your other hand to keep yourself from shaking, but his hand beats you to it when it falls over your own. You look down at the sight, and then slightly tilt your palm upwards so you can loosely hold onto his. He squeezes it once and you look at him.

“You’ll be fine,” he says.

It all feels a little silly. I mean, you can imagine the last thing in the world he could empathize with is stage fright. He plays in front of thousands of people in stands every week, of whom you’d say half of which are showing up for him exclusively, and even if the team’s down during the half or stakes are insanely high, or if the chants are so loud most people could hardly even hear themselves think, he always pulls through in the end. Something as simple as presenting in front of a handful of students in a media room wouldn’t have his hand trembling the way yours is right now, because there probably isn’t a fearful bone in his body.

“Do you ever get nervous?” you ask him. It comes out faster than you could think, but curiosity is killing you.

His eyes study your face, brows dropping a little.

“I mean, on the field,” you clarify, “when you’re playing.”

He relaxes a little bit. “Oh, no, not really. I mean, sorta, but it’s not really a feeling I can afford to give much thought to when I’m out there, so I guess not?”

“Mm…” you hum, accepting his answer, and his fingers curl over your hand to hold it a little tighter. “I see. I wonder what that’s like.”

“What what is like?” he asks.

“Not getting nervous.”

“I get nervous sometimes. Just not really on the field.”

“When do you get nervous?” you ask him.

“Usually when I’m with you.”

Your eyes study his intently and your cheeks feel warm.

“Are you just messing with me?” you ask, with a half scoff, to prepare yourself to play it off as a joke.

“No, I’m not,” he states, “I get nervous around you. Cause I’m always scared I’m gonna fuck shit up somehow.”

“Oh,” you say, shoulders slumping a little, “I thought it was a different kind of nervous.” Like a love sick, can’t breathe around the person, heart about to give out kind of soul crushing adoration-filled nervousness.

He looks at you puzzled. “What other kind of nervous is there?” he asks.

You sigh. “Nevermind.” You pull your hand out from under his, and he flexes his fingers a little, like he’s getting used to the absence of your hand underneath his, before he withdraws it back to his side.

Your hand is still shaking.

“Hey,” he says, leaning in a bit closer to make sure you hear what he has to say, “I saw you slap the shit out of a guy at a bar for disrespecting you and then telling that other fuckface to go take it up the ass. Which is probably the most badass thing I think I’ve ever seen anyone do, so I know you’ve got no reason to be nervous right now.”

You take in a deep breath for confidence and nod.

“Okay,” you whisper.

He leaves you alone for the most part after that while you work on your slides, except for his occasional loud shouts when he messes up some mission in the combat game he’s playing on his phone. And you remember he’s someone who’s supposed to be extremely busy, and probably has shit to do right now, but he’s essentially killing all day here with you.

“What are you doing?” he asks when he peers over at your laptop screen once you come back from a bathroom break.

“Oh.” You stretch your fingers out and close them into fists over your keyboard before going back to one of your open tabs. “I need to submit my grad school application.”

Gojo places his elbows on the table and leans his weight onto them, watching your laptop screen from beside you as you navigate UTokyo’s grad school application portal. You can already tell he’s dissociating.

“It’s done?” he asks as you click through the webpage.

“Yes. It’s done. Officially. I just need to–,” you take a deep breath in, “I just need to press…submit.”

Your cursor hovers over the blue button, in the same way your finger is hovering over your mousepad, and you’re stuck frozen.

Gojo leans in closer to your space to where you can smell the soft fragrance of his detergent, “then press submit.”

“I…I will.” You blink at the screen.

But you’re the queen of stalling, in all aspects of life.

He takes his elbow off the table and reaches his arm over to your laptop before pressing down firmly on the right-click cursor button, and you watch in a panic as the loading circle appear on the screen as he calmly retreats his arm, and then you see Congratulations on submitting your UTokyo Graduate School Early Admissions Application for the 2024-25 School Year!

“What–” you look at him with shock.

“You were taking too long,” he says with a shrug.

You slump into your seat with a small pout and watch your phone light up with a confirmation email as well.

“So how should we celebrate when you get in?” he asks.

“We? And when as in if.”

“Yes, we. And when. Now answer.”

You sigh. “I dunno…”

“Is there something that you really want?” he asks, nudging your arm with his elbow before he lays his cheek down on his forearm on the table so he can see your face better. And he looks so cute and boyfriend-ish with the way his hair sprawls over the sleeve of his hoodie and his cheek is plush from where he’s resting it.

You lean all the way back in your chair. “Mm…to end world hunger. Cure cancer. Bring peace and prosperity to all my friends and family.”

“Yes ok, very kind of you,” he responds, voice scratchy like he’s tired but his leg is bouncing impatiently underneath the table, “I meant something you can buy.”

“Like happiness?”

“Just be serious for a second.”

You laugh. “Hmm…I mean, it’s not really a tangible thing…but I’ve always wanted to take a roadtrip to Mt. Fuji,” you offer.

He lifts his head up off his arm with interest. “Ok, then, when you get in, I’ll take you on a trip to Mt. Fuji. All expenses paid.”

“You sound like one of those travel advisors at the mall that scam families for debit card deposits,” you snort, “also, why do I feel like it’d just be an excuse for you to annoy me in forced proximity over the span of five to seven days.”

He drops his head to rest it on his arm again with a small grumble leaving him. “You’re so cynical sometimes.”

Just a bit jaded since last week, is what you think to say. But you’re not in the mood to explain the existential dread within you since Kai’s whole posse of ultra lame losers stirred the unnerving pot of career stress within you, but maybe you just need a bit of time to come down from it.

“Ok fine. If it’s all paid for, then I guess I shall accept the offer. Er, the prospect of the impending offer.

There’s a grin on his face, kinda drowsy and sick with some sort of glee, and he uncrosses one of his arms from the surface of the table to hold his hand out to you, pinky sticking up in the air.

“Alright then, it’s a promise,” he says.

You blink at him, eyeing his pinky, but he just wiggles it in the air like get on with it. You sigh, curling yours around his firmly, and your signature addition is the press of your thumb to his in security of sealing the deal, which you realize by the slight furrow to his brow that he’s never seen it before. You shrug.

“Pinky promises are never to be broken,” he says, kinda cheekily like he knows it sounds silly, and for a second there’s a glimpse of juvenile innocence on his face. His words sound like something a parent would echo to a child, like words from his own. Your pinkies are still coiled. “You’ve gotta say it too.”

“P-Pinky promises are never to be broken,” you repeat after him.

“Sweet.” He pulls his hand from your and then he turns his face so his forehead is resting on his arm now instead of his cheek, breathing slowly as he’s silent for a minute.

“Are you–...are you sleeping?” you ask.

“Yes.” He muffles into his crossed arms.

“Tired?”

He sighs heavily. “Very.”

“Um…I need your help with some things, though.”

“...okay.”

—

“Who are we going to see again?” Gojo asks, using a shake of his head to get some of his fringe out of his eyes hands-free as his fingers spread in his hold of the box underneath them, and it’s hard not to admire the way his hands look. Large shades of pale pink where they were slightly strained, like at his knuckles and joints, and those cool toned veins that valley from the grip that he has. There’s something way more attractive about his hands when he puts them to earnest use.

You two are walking down the hallway on the third floor of the building. “Our faculty adviser for our club,” you say, reaching into your pocket to make sure you still had your keys with you, “oh, he’s also the professor I asked for my reference.”

“Ohhh, interesting,” Gojo comments. “You said he’s a fan of soccer right?”

You’re taken back to that first night you met Gojo at that frat party, and you mentioned your professor to him. Feels like forever ago. But at the same time, like yesterday.

“Yes, UTokyo’s team in particular,” you comment, “honestly I think he might faint when he sees you.”

“I wish you would faint when you see me,” he sighs.

You roll your eyes and then finally arrive at your professor’s office. It’s slightly ajar, as it usually is, and you take a small peek inside to see that he’s sitting at his desk, window open and illuminating the room with golden rays of the setting sun, and you’re made aware of the fact that night is coming soon.

“Hi, Professor,” you say after knocking once, and the man jumps in his seat when you pull the door open to step inside. You always forget he’s easily startled, and make another mental note to not scare him anymore because if he gets a heart attack and dies from shock, you wouldn’t be able to afford the lawsuit.

“Hello, hello, y/n,” he greets, sitting up in his chair by grabbing onto the arm rests for leverage, and you can feel the edge of the box push against your back as Gojo makes his way into the room too.

As predicted, your professor nearly faints and dies from shock when he clocks the sight of Gojo, and you briefly wonder if Gojo would be able to afford the lawsuit, and then your professor is running up to him and shaking his hand with a vigor that has the younger man wincing a little in discomfort, but by the short amount of time you’ve finished looking through the storage room for projector cables & supplies, then re-emerge to your professor’s office with filled up boxes in your hands, Gojo’s typing his number into your professor’s phone and apparently he’s going salsa dancing with him and his wife this weekend?

“You should come too,” Gojo says, adjusting his grip on the boxes he took from you as you two meander down the hallway back to the media room.

You dust your hands off. “To what? Salsa dancing?”

“Yeah, apparently there’s gonna be spiked brazilian lemonade,” he coos, like he’s pitching a pyramid scheme to you.

You sigh. “How often do people just randomly invite you to things?”

He glances up at the ceiling like he really needs to think about it. “I dunno. I just accept, don’t always go.”

“So you’re, like, a selective people pleaser,” you note. “Save face in the moment but then run away from the commitment.”

“Relax. I was having a good evening.”

You two make it back to the media room with no more unsolicited psychoanalysis, and you’re scrambling around to get things in order for the event while Gojo tries his best to be helpful wherever he can, but he mostly just looks like a lost puppy.

“Okay so I ordered four pizzas,” you say, holding up four fingers in the air, “and then you also need to get, like, maybe two family size bottles of Coke from the store?” Now two fingers. “A pack of napkins would be nice too since apparently we ran out.” You look through the box you got from your professor’s storage room. “And…I think that’s it. Keep the receipts so I can reimburse you.”

Gojo nods at you after every command, eyes wide and brows furrowed in concentration like he’s really trying to picture the list of tasks in his head so he doesn’t forget any of them, and you feel a bit bad for ordering him around to do all of this for you but he was here anyway so you might as well put him to use.

“And then can you also get some stuff from the trunk of my–er, Mina’s car. I parked it by the Literature building in Lot 16.” You pull the car keys out from your tote bag and hand it to him. He stands there like a statue before his fingers curl around the cold metal keys. “Please be back here a half hour before six!!”

“So I guess I’m a member of the club now?” he muses, throwing the keys up into the air a few feet to then catch them.

“Mm, no, you need to fill out a form to be an official member,” you say as you make your way to the podium and open the drawer to pull out one of the microphones.

“Send me the form then,” he says.

“It’s on our Instagram.” You tap the head of the microphone and are satisfied when you hear thumping across the room’s speakers. “LinkTree in bio!!” you chirp in club advertisement reflex.

He pulls his phone out from his pocket and half leans back/half sits on one of the tables and taps away at his screen. You’re standing at the podium computer scrolling through your logged-in Spotify account to figure out which ambient playlist to have playing for the event.

“Alright,’ he says before slipping his phone back into his pocket, “I just filled out the form.”

Your phone chimes with an email notification right after he says it. “Yay! Congrats! Welcome to UTokyo’s Film Club!” you exclaim, again, in practiced club advertisement reflex.

He smiles at you and crosses his arms. “Are there any cool perks?” he asks.

“Uhh, a chance to enter into a Kodak film roll raffle every semester?” you say, knowing it’s useless because you two are graduating in less than two months so this was your last semester anyway and the raffle had already passed. Oh, also useless because Gojo isn’t a film photographer. Your phone chimes with another email notification. You glance at it. “Oh! Someone else RSVP’d for the event tonight. Yayyy.”

“Sorry, I think that was me,” he says, “I filled out the wrong form at first.”

“Oh,” your shoulders drop in a sulk slightly, done before conscious thought can stop the motion, so now Gojo’s caught onto the fact that you’re upset about something.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, and he walks over to where you’re standing at the podium.

“I’m just a little…bummed out about the turnout,” you confess as you glance at the RSVP form for the event on your phone, “eighteen people signed up, but that includes the eight students that are showcasing their photography. Oh, and now it also includes you. So…that means only nine real sign-ups, and I guess it’s a little less than what I thought it would be.”

“Aww,” he coos, and he places his elbows up onto the wood of the podium, holding his face up to look at you. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you say, and you blush for some reason.

He’s smiling at you now, boyish and lost in thought that probably has nothing to do with the conversation at hand.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, “I just think you’re really cool.”

“Okayyy,” you diffuse the compliment, “are you going to stay for the event?”

“Will you let me?” he asks.

“Maybe,” you say, “if you don’t do anything strange during it.”

“And if I do?” he asks.

“So you are going to do something strange?”

“Nope.”

“Well, now you seem suspicious.”

He laughs. “I was just joking.”

“When you bring the pizzas back, just leave them outside the door. I’ll take it from there,” you say.

“You’re not even gonna let me inside?” he scoffs.

“No.”

“And if I come inside anyway?”

“I’ll place a bucket of water at the top of the door,” you say, “so it’ll fall on you, except it’ll give you a concussion instead of a soak.”

He snorts. “Yeah? How are you even gonna reach the top of the door?”

“I–...shut up.”

“I can help you,” he grins, leaning forward on the podium, “reach the top of the door.”

“You’re going to help me terrorize you?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

He shrugs. “Anything if it means I get to touch your butt.”

“Wha–!! Why would that entail you touching my butt?!”

He looks confused by your confusion. “Hmm…maybe…maybe we should act out what you think this scenario would entail…and then we can act out what I think this scenario would entail, perhaps multiple times, and then–”

“Just go get the things I asked, please,” you say with a sigh.

He laughs, it’s sweet but loud, and you blush when you realize he’s just messing with you for his own amusement.

“Stop teasing me,” you pout at him.

“I seriously can’t help it,” he tells you, and he leans himself off the podium to stand up straight before shoving the car keys you gave him into his pocket, “the way you react is always so cute.”

You feel like you could melt.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” he says, and you watch him as he heads out the door. And the room feels empty without him.

Luckily there are things you can distract yourself with in his absence. Well, technically he was the distraction, but sometimes it felt like everything else was the distraction keeping you from him.

There’s still about an hour left before the film club students come in to set up the exhibits, and you set up everything else you need to set up around the room, like moving the tables around so that the walk flow is like that of a museum’s, you set the club posters you painted up on the wall, pull a plastic table cover over what will be the food and refreshments section when Gojo eventually brings them. And you spend the last ten minutes rehearsing your slides.

It occurs to you that this is the last time you’ll be doing any of this, possibly for the rest of your life. Film Club still has a few events left for the year, but they’re mostly just tabling events and then the end-of-year banquet at the Cheesecake Factory. And so as you click through slides at the podium, your eyes drift from the screen off into the still empty room. And that feeling of something coming to an end washes over you. But you’re not really sure how to feel about it just yet.

Your thoughts drown out the gradually growing bustling noise outside in the hall, and you only become aware of it about a couple minutes later, when the noises increase into loud shouts and cheers. Was there some event next door that you didn’t know about at the same time as the Film Club event? You didn’t know of any, but right before you can check the university’s social media, the door burst opens and Gojo’s standing there with a stack of four pizzas balancing on one palm, with the pinky hooking a plastic bag seemingly carrying a couple bottles of soda, and in his right hand is—…beer?

“Hey,” Gojo says, a gleeful look on his face. The noises outside are heard clearly with the door he’s keeping open with his foot, and then they disappear back into muffles once again when he closes the door. “Where do you want this stuff?”

You storm up to him. “W-Why did you buy beer?” you ask him.

“Huh?” he glances down at the couple of cases of beer in his left hand. “I mean, pizza and beer, you can’t go wrong with that.”

“What??”

He blinks at you. “I-Is it BYOB or something??”

“Satoru. This isn’t a frat party!! This is a Film Club event!!”

“There’s no alcohol at your events?” he asks, setting the pizzas down on the food and refreshments table you had set up earlier. “I assumed you had just forgotten to ask me to get some from the store when you were listing off tasks earlier.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “No. There is no alcohol at our events,” you sigh. But he’s ripping the tops of the cases anyway. “Do you know why it’s so loud outside?” You move towards the door and try to peer through the frosty glass.

“They’re here for the event,” he says. You swirl on your heel to face him, but all you see is the expanse of his back as he rips a pack of napkins open.

“T-This event?” you squeak out.

He looks over his shoulder at you. “Yeah. You said something about the turnout being small, so I posted it to my Instagram story.”

Your mouth drops open.

He stiffens. “I mean, that’s what one of the…” his voice slowly trails off, “…roles & responsibilities was…for the Film Club membership form…to be a member…”

You continue to stare at him.

“…help publicize for club events,” he clarifies.

You quickly turn to face the door again and push it open with force, almost hitting someone straight in the face, and after you apologize for your carelessness, you take in the huge line of people flush against the wall, all chatting with friends in small groups that trail all the way back to the entrance of the building. Most of them are people you’ve recognized at SAE parties and social media posts, and you quickly close the door because now your heart is beating so fast in your chest from the nerves that you can hardly handle it.

You turn to face Gojo again and walk up to him while he’s still busy fixing up the table with more finesse than you'd have expected from him. “Satoru!! I don’t have enough pizza to feed all these people!! There isn’t even enough space in this room for all of them!!” You’re panicking a little.

He tilts his head at you. “Just—…have them walk inside in a single file and round out of the room in a circle.” He gesticulates the plan with his finger in the air. “Easy.”

Right. Like the professional-grade sports conference signings he’s been a part of. “I’m just one person. I have no idea how I’m gonna deal with a group that large.”

“Relax,” he assures you, and he takes a step towards you to hold both your hands in his, “it’s going to be fine! You’ve done these events before, it’s no different than those times. Plus you’re not just one person! I’ll be here with you, too.”

His overwhelming positivity and ease and nonchalance is starting to contrast way too heavily with your anxiety and uncertainty and cynicism, and it has you pulling your hands from his because your palms are starting to get sweaty.

The door creaks open slightly ajar, and you both turn to face it. Haru, the film student from earlier, takes a step into the room.

“Hi!! This is—…this is where the event is supposed to be, right?” he asks sheepishly with skepticism, likely because he can’t believe the line outside.

“Yes!” you confirm, and you glance at the projector screen for the time, “take a seat, I’ll be going over logistics soon.”

Following him suit are a few other film students that trickle in and take seats at the tables, and you do a mental roll call and notice that only a couple are missing. But you’ve only got five minutes until the hour starts for the event, so you shut the door airtight for a peaceful ambience and rush to the front of the room at the podium.

“Hi,” you say into the mic, “thanks so much to you all for coming here!! In a few minutes, I’ll be opening the door for people to come by and check out your photo exhibits. I ask that if you do get commissions booked for your work, you write it down on the sheets provided so we can assess the helpfulness of these events in helping students secure freelance work!” You’re practically reading off a script as a coping mechanism, because your hand is shaking in anticipation. You look down at it underneath the hood of the podium, and in a second, it’s being covered by a familiar hand.

Gojo’s standing next to you at the podium now, holding your hand but discreet from view, and it gives you enough ease to finish your presentation smoothly, mostly because it goes by in a blur with the distraction of his comforting hand squeezes, and you can finally release the deep breath you were holding in.

“Awesome,” Gojo says right when you dismiss the students to start setting up their photo exhibits at their tables, “you finished the presentation. It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“You almost sound patronizing,” you sigh, but you turn your palm up so he can hold your hand anyway.

By the time you open the door for the event, your anxiety has settled, and all you feel is awe as you watch people make their way into the room. Albeit most of them just go straight for the beer and pizza at first (which you’re pretty sure is illegal to serve on campus, but whatever), and you had to make the last minute decision to change your spotify playlist on the speakers from Studio Ghibli classics to early 2000s club music just to keep them engaged, but as the event proceeds, they all start to travel down the exhibit tables and glance at students photos sprawled across tables and swiping through slideshows on their laptops, and there’s genuine conversation and interest.

Turns out frats & sororities were the target audience for professional photography all along? Considering how anal they are about their social media aesthetics and what-not. Something you’d never even really considered until today, and somehow your world has become a little bit bigger than what it was before.

As you walk around the room just to eavesdrop on some conversations and make sure things are going okay, you steal glances at the freelance commision sign up papers that the film students are keeping track of, and you see occasions written down like birthday photoshoot and grad photos and aunt’s baby shower scribbled under the event columns and you start to feel emotional. The little freshmen & sophomore film students look so ecstatic with the amount of work they’re booking in one evening, and for once you feel like a proud mom.

This is singlehandedly the biggest turnout you’ve ever seen for any event you’ve ever hosted, and for someone that has a hard time asking for help most of the times, you finally see what you’ve been missing out on when you do let someone see you for who you are and they just know what’s important to you.

When you think of it, he’s always known what’s important to you. And he’s always cared.

You’re blinking fast to fight the sheen of tears when you look at Gojo from across the room, who’s chatting it up with some people he knows and then ushering them into the showcase line, because you realize he’s made you feel really proud of yourself today, which is something you’ve really struggled with in the past week.

It’s been four years since you joined this club, with hours of hard work invested into events that weren’t going to get the front page of the newsletter like the Friday soccer games would, or get circulated around on social media like the sorority formals would, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t any less important. And it’s ironic that someone like Gojo who fits into that world of prestige and popularity and success is the one to show you that.

“Hey.” You jump when you hear Gojo’s voice near you and realize you had been too lost in thought to notice that he was approaching you. He’s pointing over his shoulder towards the door. “Some guy came by and said we’ve only got five minutes left for the room?”

You turn away from him slightly, and the sniffle of your nose is quiet enough in the loud echoes of the room. “Oh, yes, um, we only had it booked for an hour. I didn’t think we’d need more than that.”

“Oh okay,” he says, “I’ll tell everyone to get lost then.”

“But not before telling them to follow us on Instagram!!” you chirp at him in practiced club advertisement reflex, “the QR code is posted on the door.”

He nods slowly. “Sure thing, boss.” He turns to head back to the line of people still leading out of the door, but his eyes linger on your face and he turns back to you. The step he takes towards you makes you nervous, because you don’t want him to see you were on the verge of tears. You’re good at hiding these sorts of things.

“Are you okay?” he asks, tilting his head down to look at you straight in the face because it’s obvious you’re not making eye contact.

You take in a deep breath and finally level your gaze with his when you’re certain your eyes are dry. “Yes, fine. Thank you.” And you smile at him. And he takes your word for it.

It’s pitch black outside as you walk with Gojo across campus towards the parking lot. He’s carrying all the supplies you have to take home in boxes piled high in his arms, while you just pull an empty mini wagon along because there’s way too many stairs as obstacles for any mode of transport by wheel.

There are a few moments where your shoulder accidentally brushes against his arm, and it’s mostly because you can’t walk in a straight line for the life of you, but you like it because it just feels nice to be in his space somehow. Like those little moments when your knee bumps someone else’s under the table, or your hands touch when handing something to someone, always noticed but never addressed because it just felt natural.

On the way to the faculty parking lot, where the blacktop is barely lit by the baseball stadium lights off in the distance, the exhaustion of the day catches up to you. Gojo’s hand reaches inside his pocket and he pulls out Mina’s car keys before pressing down on a button to open the trunk.

“Gosh, I forgot you had those keys,” you sigh as you fold the wagon and slide it into the back. “I would’ve freaked out if I noticed I didn’t have them.”

“Yeahhh I considered pretending that I lost them just to fuck with you, but I got lazy,” he says with a shrug and a yawn then sets down the boxes in the trunk with a slight grunt that leaves him, then he’s dusting his hands off.

You do a quick look-through of the supplies to make sure you didn’t forget anything in the room, and then pull your phone out to text Nobara that everything went well today. Well, great. Fantastic. Honestly, she’ll be shocked by the turnout when she sees the Instagram photos you’ll be posting to the club’s socials.

Gojo pulls down on the top of the trunk and shuts it closed, then he turns to face you. “Alright, so…”

“So…” you repeat after him, and you’re not sure why the air feels a little awkward, but you twiddle with your fingers because you don’t have the desire to step into the car and head home just yet.

Gojo nods slowly, looking around himself at the ground. “I guess that’s everything.”

“Mhm.”

He scratches the back of his head, and you realize he’s not making any moves to walk away either.

“Um,” you say, “Satoru–”

“Yeah?” he responds, fast, the second you say his name.

You take a step closer to him, and lean your hip against the car. “Thank you,” you say, holding onto your elbow and rubbing soothing circles over your own arm, “for what you did tonight.”

He tilts his head at you in confusion, but then his face relaxes. “Oh, no worries,” he says with a smile, and his voice sounds a little tired from the day too, “I’m pretty sure you would’ve killed yourself if you tried to carry those boxes down the stairs.”

“What?...no, no, not for the boxes,” you say with a shake of your head, and then you remember you need to be offended by what he just said, “what the hell, that’s not true. I have more than sufficient upper body strength.”

He tucks his bottom lip under his teeth, like to stifle a laugh. “Uh-huh.”

You sigh and briefly pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance and then shake the feeling off with a shake of your head. “I meant…for what you did by publicizing the event.” And for being there for you, when you were feeling alone and nervous about the whole thing, like he could tell you just really needed someone to be with you. But you bite your tongue before you can say that part too.

His brow furrows for a moment, and you realize he’s confused about the appreciation.

“It’s just, I know what it was like when I was a freshman and sophomore, feeling like my work wasn’t really reaching anyone,” you say to him, the vulnerability on your sleeve as you speak, “so it was a really nice thing for you to do for those underclassmen today. I saw the looks on their faces, and they looked really happy. And–...I’m sure it made their day.” You glance off to the side for a moment because you feel a little shy, and then you look back at him. “It made mine too.”

He takes a step towards you, and he’s close now, to where the tips of his shoes almost touch yours. His eyes are calm, darker with minimal light to reflect off of but there are still stars in them as always. “I’m glad I could help. Uh, well, I’m a member of the club now, so, if you need any other help, then. You know where to find me.”

You laugh. “I doubt there’s much I could give you to do at this point in the year, but alright. If anything comes up, I’ll assign it to you.”

You both look up at each other with small smiles. Your thumbs still swiped over the skin of your arm, and he shoves his hands in his pockets to look at his feet, rocking back and forth on his heels slightly. You click your tongue and look up at the sky, and he tilts his head to the side a few times to stretch it out. Were you two just so brain-fried by the day that you can’t even think of a single thing to say to one another? But if that was the case, then why not just call it a day and go home?

There’s a person on a bicycle that passes by, jingling his bell in the process and that breaks the two of you out of this weird trance, and then he’s clearing his throat and you’re shifting on your feet.

“Oh, by the way—” “Um, I just wanted to—” you both say at the same time.

You blink at each other.

“Sorry,” he laughs, “go ahead.”

“No, no, you go ahead,” you say.

“It’s fine,” he gestures to you. “You first.”

“Are you sure?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Well—,” he starts, “I’ll say what I want to say after you say what you want to say…so…no worries. Go ahead.”

“Right,” you nod in agreement, and scratch your arm a little. “I just wanted to say I’m still…sorry about what I said to you last week outside that bar,” you confess, “about…having it easy in life.” You squeeze your upper arm in anxious tendency. “ImeanIknowIalreadyapologizedforit,” you say, fast, with surprisingly no tongue twist, “but…still. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t open up to me about stuff because of what I said and because of…I guess, the…mean impression I claimed to have of you. I just don’t think I was in a great headspace, and…well.” You look up at him and his expression is soft. “I’ve really appreciated being able to talk to you about lots of things. Um. So, yeah, I just wanted to say again that I’m really sorry about it.” You take in and release a deep breath once you’re done with your ramble.

He’s quiet for a moment as he lets your words sink in, and he briefly glances down at his shoes, shoulders raising slightly to roll them back and then he relaxes them when he looks at you again.

“It’s okay,” he says, and he leans against the car now too. “I know you said that I was contributing to making you feel that way, so I owe you an apology for that too.”

You blink up at him.

“Plus, you were dealing with a bunch of pricks,” he says, “and stressed about your future.”

“Mm,” you acknowledge.

“We’re seniors,” he randomly mentions, “I think we’re all just…trying to figure ourselves out? So, I get it. And I don’t want you to feel bad about it.”

You feel a tickle in your throat, and the distracting pain of your nails digging into the palms of your hands is enough to direct your brain away from getting emotional right now. “That’s true. Figuring ourselves out. Mm.”

He gives you a small smile, and then he sighs when he remembers something. “Yeah, a friend of mine just broke up with his girlfriend of six years because he didn’t get into law school, so, stress is a crazy thing.”

“Oh no, I’m so sorry for him–and, them.”

“Yeahhh he bought a ring and everything,” Gojo says, rubbing the back of his neck and wincing a little in empathetic discomfort.

“Oh my gosh.”

“Well, anyway,” he laughs a little, in some sort of fear that he’s just made things awkward, “you don’t have to worry about what you said. I–” he pauses, “I’m hard to get rid of when I want to be around. Ask Suguru, he’s tried to get rid of me on multiple occasions.”

You laugh, and he doesn’t follow up with any more jokes or explanations, like he just wants to hear your laugh in its purity. And you nod, taking in his words for a bit, letting them rerun in your head, because they leave a warmth in you.

“Have you given any thought to what you want to do after graduation?” you ask, and you’re humbled by the fact that you never even thought to ask him that before. Hell, you even asked the stranger you sat next to in stats today that question before you ever asked him.

“Yeah,” he nods, “I think I’m gonna play for the national league.”

“Oh! That’s awesome,” you chirp, “I have no doubt you’ll get it. I’ve seen those recruiters constantly coming up to you during games.” You lightly poke his arm in flattery. “Although you always look super annoyed when they do.”

He laughs. “Yeah, they have no concept of time or place.”

“But anyway,” you say, “that’s really cool. I know your dreams are going to come true, and you’ll be great at it too.”

He nods, and you notice your words seem a little lost on him, like he's distracted by something else, but he covers it up with a well-meaning smile of pursed lips and then another silence settles between you two.

“Oh, what were you gonna,” you start, pointing your finger at him, “what were you gonna say?”

“Oh, right, phew, thanks,” he exhales in relief at the reminder, “well, I guess it’s more of a…question,” he’s sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, “but we–the frat��is hosting this barbeque thing on Thursday before our game on Friday…and, I was wondering if you’d want to come.” His words hang in the air for a moment as he’s preemptively studying your expression for any clue of an answer, and you realize he’s nervous. When you keep your features neutral, he feels the need to keep speaking. “I mean I—...I’d have to send you the invite, ‘cause it’s kind of an exclusive thing…it’s also in the afternoon since it’s too late in season for us to be throwing parties the night before a game, but, uh, if you’re free,” he pauses to take a breath, “I’d really love it if you came.”

You just stare at him.

He holds his hands up in a slight panic, shoulders tense. “Not a—…it’s not a date though. Don’t worry.”

“Ahh…” you nod, feigning relief but in all honesty you forgot about how many times you’ve turned down his pleas for a date this week and you think it’s sort of cute but also sad that he felt the need to clarify. “Yeah, um, I’ll let you know.”

He smiles, it’s genuine and real and something you’ll never get tired of. “Alright, cool.”

And here you two are standing again in silence, just looking at one another. If you were on the outside, looking in, you’d think that the two of you had just met. Like a fresh start.

Your breathing slows as you gaze up at him, because the way his brow furrows ever so slightly as he looks at you is so handsome and sweet and it makes you remember how when you first met him, you wondered if you’d ever feel relaxed in his presence from how gorgeous he is. Back then, you never would’ve imagined that you would make him nervous someday.

His gaze slowly travels down to your lips, and you feel your eyes soften to where everything else around you is a blur. You want to kiss him. Maybe as a thanks, or a reward, something sweet to show him how much today meant to you. You tilt your head, looking up with doe eyes and flutters of your eyelashes, in the most obvious way a girl could silently tell a guy she wants him to kiss her. He’d have to be the most immensely dense person on the planet to not—

“You really should think about the salsa dancing,” he says, breaking any and all energy between the two of you, “I think it’d be fun.”

You blink at him for a solid ten seconds, and then sigh with a slight slump to your shoulders, because you realize he’s probably never had to guess if a girl wants him to kiss her or not. And he’s still as dense as the person he was when you first fell for him. But there’s something endearing about it, too. Simple. Simple was what you needed. “Mhm.”

After another brief moment of silence, you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“I should get going,” you say, through an awkward half laugh, “I have an essay due at 8AM tomorrow, so...I need to go home and procrastinate.” That earns a short snort from him, and you lean yourself off of the car to head towards the driver’s side. Gojo’s on your tail and then suddenly a step ahead of you as he gets the door for you and you sit inside then fiddle with the rearview mirror just to give your hands something to do because you feel his eyes on you and it’s all-consuming as ever.

“Hey,” he says, resting his elbow on top of the car door as he peers down at you, “text me when you get home.”

You look up at him while you push the keys into ignition. “I will. Good night.”

“Night,” he says with a soft smile on his face, and he hesitates for a moment before he closes the door. Like something someone would do when they don’t want a moment to end.

a/n. thanks so much for reading!! this was such a domestic little chapter to write haha i think it’s the most mellow of the three scenes i wrote for the original longer version of ch10 but sdkfhsdkf i still really enjoyed writing it.

anywhoooooooo the next chapter will be the frat bbq :0 i’m very excited for that one, i think it’s my favorite of the three installments aaa there’s a scene i wrote for it that is one of the highlights in the series for me so far. not because it’s angsty or dramatic or anything, it’s just really silly and cute and horny and is kinda young love vibes and i’m living for that recently because gege has ripped my heart out already i cannot handle angst rn xD hope that’s ok

again thanks so much for reading. i think some of you may know it was really hard for me to push through w writing bc of lots of reasons and stuff that was happening on my account, but all the lovely support n messages really motivated me to not give up on the chapter and i really appreciate that a lot!!

also i had fun dedicating the last chapter to someone, so i kinda wanted to do that again!! i have a lovely n sweet 🫶🏼 anon whose birthday was i think the week after i was supposed to initially post ch10, but unfortunately i didn’t get around to posting it in time even though i said it would be my early bday gift to them BAHAHAH so i wanted to dedicate this chapter to my darling 🫶🏼 anon <33 happy belated birthday my love!!

aaa i’ll hopefully see you in the next one!! :’’) love u all sm <3

- ellie 💕

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes: please do not ask me for updates (read rules); also, i have decided to officially close the taglist! i’m so sorry, but it’s getting a little too much for me to keep track of :’’) and apparently i have to manually input the tags as well as make separate posts to include everyone because of the tag limit, and it’s too stressful for me lol. i will continue to tag the people who i have been tagging so far (if you were tagged in this chapter or in my separate extended taglist post, i will continue to tag you in future chapters), but if you were not able to make the taglist, i do post on ao3 at the same time as tumblr, and ao3 has a subscription feature where you can get emails for updates! i think that would be helpful for anyone wanting to keep up w the story. sorry!!

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

@tsukikourito @getitsatoru @gabriiiiiiii @kissofife @tiredflame132

#flowie m00tie #whereflowerswenttodie #kickoff #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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