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nanamiya3 · 2 years

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hello! it’s been so long since i last saw u guys! i’ve been super busy but anyways..

i started writing this over a year ago as a way to get some stuff off my mind, so it’s kind of self indulgent in that it’s a classic hurt/comfort trope where the reader is in danger & the other mc has to save them. i’ve been writing it on and off for so long: id pick it up and write like four lines and then let it sit for weeks. this fic is a bit dark at the beginning, though the comfort is very sappy at the end. please read the statements below on specific triggers, thank you! also, i lowkey forgot how to use tumblr so if i don’t do something right tell me!! also also,, this is very not proofread so please ignore any mediocre writing or plot holes.

naoya x fem reader - very obvious allusions to sexual assault - reader is referred to as naoya’s wife - some misogyny (not really from naoya) - reader has PTSD as a result of the SA - hostage situation - hurt/comfort - wc. 4.5k

- please do not expand the post unless you are okay with topics such as sexual assault, violence, and PTSD -

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” The barrel of a gun lay flat against the dark strands of your hair.

A tear fell past your lashes, tracing the paths left by tears long shed. The watery, winter sun cast your face in a pale, ashen light, and the light breeze rustling the cold clover at your feet forced a shiver from your body.

The Zen’in estate faced your back, as did your captor. In front of you stood Naoya Zen’in, your husband.

You had been wed to the heir of the Zen’in clan three months ago, your hand in marriage gifted as a means to improve relations between yours and the Zen’in clan.

The wedding ceremony was a quiet affair; Naoya was not one to stall, and there were few attendants -- your own parents had quickly left upon your successful engagement.

Consummating the marriage later that night had left quiet tears in your eyes, Naoya’s sticky seed slipping onto your thighs, a light smattering of blood speckling the pale sheets.

The two of you were not in love. You could count on one hand the number of proper conversations you’d had in the three months since your union. Your communication was limited to murmured thank you’s at dinner -- when plates of steaming foods were passed, when your cup was filled with warm tea by his steady hand. When the sun shied and the moon rose and hushed moans and whispered names were exchanged.

Beyond your lewd, nighttime tumbles, Naoya didn’t pay you much attention. Your obedience was not a courtesy, it was required -- expected. Your job was simply to sit at his side and look all the bit the demure, quiet wife; to lay there as Naoya fucked a son - an heir - into the soft curves of your body.

When you sit up in bed, panting and shaking from a nightmare, quiet sobs racking your body because you believe Naoya to be asleep, he does not lower himself to comfort you -- does not bother to give any indication that he is, in fact, not asleep. When you trip over your pretty, patterned kimono, obediently walking three steps behind your superior husband, he does not look back or help you up.

The union that joined you and the heir of the Zen’in clan was not one born of affection; it was a union of convenience, service.

As your mind raced with fleeting thoughts of your marriage, you did not believe that Naoya would make an effort to save you. You had a multitude of reasons to believe so. Reasons that involved the origin of the predicament you were currently in.

Naoya had left the grounds two nights ago on a mission at the request of his father. The guards had been excused: after all, the heir to the Zen’in clan, the one to be protected, was no longer present.

Three months of sleepless nights and you had nothing to show for it. You bore no heir. Your life held no value. If you died, Naoya could always take another wife. The security was unneeded - not for you.

So, someone had taken advantage of your state of unprotected solitude.

He’d made quick work of the remaining help: the chefs who prepared the meals you shared with your husband, the maids who kept your kimonos pressed and clean.

The unnatural stillness that had fallen over your home following the murders of the staff was quickly interrupted by the piercing of sharp screams, the thud of muffled kicking, the rip and ruination of hand-stitched seams.

And so, Naoya returned home, exhausted from his mission, ready to be greeted by a sweet smile on your face, a shy, soft kiss waiting on your lips, a tray of warm food resting next to you on the bed.

Instead, he had walked into the eerily quiet residence, no wife in sight. What he’d found was a trail of bodies, tracks of mud bleeding into the plush greenery behind the manor. He’d followed it, circling around the property to avoid detection, until the house crested in his view once more and a man stood in the backyard, a large hand wrapped around your throat as he waited leisurely for Naoya’s arrival.

Naoya had paused for a moment before walking closer, weighing the scene. His eyes slid across your body, cataloging the bruises on your neck that looked suspiciously similar to handprints. He noted the patterned kimono that he’d secretly grown fond of; the small rips decorating the length of the familiar fabric, the way it seemed messily thrown onto your trembling body.

And Naoya knew you. Three months of sharing a bed had allowed him to learn your habits well enough -- more than well enough, if he was being honest with himself. Naoya knew you in the hushed way that only a silent lover would. Naoya knew that you took great care in dressing yourself, keeping clean. Naoya knew that you scrubbed under your fingernails, bathed with a strict routine, avoided messy activities, took care to never wrinkle your—

Naoya knew because he’d paid attention and wanted so badly to show it, the words crawling out of his throat and the air being torn from his lungs at the same time. His arms ached to hold you and his hands dreamt of yours and he wanted to sweep you into his arms and never let you go—

Naoya knew that you would never allow your kimono to be worn in such a state of disarray. For the seams to be ripped as such, the fabric scrunched and messy… No, you had not dressed yourself.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Had you… Were you…?

The thought played in his head and Naoya’s stomach turned as he watched helpless tears dribble down your cheeks.

“N… N-Naoya…” Your voice had been reduced to a crushed, desperate whisper.

Did he care? Did he care about the gun against your head? Did he care about Death reaching His hands towards you, glee-filled with the promise of another companion?

You hoped he did.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had developed… feelings… for Naoya. You couldn’t be blamed; not when you spent your nights warming his bed and your days admiring his features from afar.

By all means, Naoya was not a kind-hearted man. He carried a weighty reputation, one that spread talk of his demeaning, dismissive, and impatient attitude. However, on occasion, you’ve deluded yourself into thinking that he might care for you as well -- that he could grow to love you, just as you felt yourself beginning to love him.

You’ve noted that Naoya was… softer towards you -- if Naoya could ever be described as “soft.” He never snaps at you like he does most others. He swallows his sharp tongue and holds back his poisoned words, trading them for small pleasantries - calm silence.

You’ve noticed your heart acting strange around him. You will it to be still, to calm, but when the moon hangs high in the night sky and his lips move up your neck and his murmured praise brings a flushed heat high up to your cheeks--

Your heart can’t help but stutter.

But now, standing in front of Naoya, pinned to the front of a cruel man and trapped by the cold metal of a gun, you feel nothing but shame course through your body as you watch your husband put the pieces together. As he connects the skewed kimono, the bruises on your neck.

You knew that, no matter how many sweet nothings he had once breathed onto your skin under the veil of nightfall, you were ruined.

Perhaps the praise, the validation, had meant something in the moment, when Naoya’s mind had wandered with drink and good food and all he wanted was to take a warm body to his bed; but in this moment, they meant nothing. Why would he want a wife sullied by another man, in his own home, no less?

Yes, you were done. Ruined.

Though you desperately wanted Naoya to care, to prove that your pining was not one-sided by saving you like a knight in a storybook, you understood that he probably did not care. Your captor could scatter your brains across the extensive patchwork of clover beneath your feet, and your husband, you supposed, wouldn’t bat an eye.

Your crying intensified as the panic set in. Your captor would kill you to prove that he could, to mock the Zen’ins, and Naoya would either be too tired or too apathetic to stop him.

You were going to die.

The man ran a hand down the slope of your breast, spanning your stomach, tossing Naoya a sleazy smile, daring him to do something.

The guards had not yet returned, and the three of you were the only ones on the property. Naoya knew he was fast, but was he faster than a bullet? Did he have enough cursed energy -- or even just regular energy -- to save you?

Unbeknownst to you, Naoya did care. Naoya admitted to himself that he liked you, that he cared about you. He just sucked at showing it.

So, he schooled his features into a stoic and bored mask. He dragged his gaze away from where you were held captive and swept it around his surroundings. The man frowned at Naoya’s impassive and unfocused face, bringing his hand back up to your shoulder so he could rest his chin on the top of your head, trying to rile him up. “How did an ass like you marry such a lovely girl?”

Now, it was Naoya’s turn to frown as he directed his attention back to where you were being held hostage.

This hostage guy seriously needed to reconsider who the ass in this situation was.

“You Zen’ins are always so stiff. So… self-absorbed… Stuck up. It makes me want to teach you a lesson…” He trailed off, his hand reaching up to trace your jaw, damp from the tears still rolling down the apples of your cheeks.

The possessive caress didn’t seem to bother Naoya. He knew that the man wouldn’t kill you yet; not when your murder would mean his own similar end. But, Naoya wasn’t too keen on the idea of you dying. So, he stepped forward, stopping a few feet away from where you stood. He inspected your panicked face as his own stayed harsh and cold and unamused.

“You can take her,” Naoya’s frigid voice cut through the chilled air like a whip. His frown deepened. He hoped you wouldn’t take this to heart -- that you’d forgive him after it was all over. “She’s barely fit to serve as my wife. Take her and leave.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Apparently, Naoya didn’t care.

You couldn’t breathe.

Your pining was one-sided; three months of marriage, and you were, in the end, replaceable. The man behind you would steal you away, and if he didn’t kill you he’d keep you to--

Two sets of equally surprised eyes lifted up to meet Naoya’s, and with a whimper, your knees crumpled. The man lost his hold on you, your limp body slipping through his fingers.

Naoya’s eyes narrowed, watching the finger on the trigger lose its place.

As soon as the man’s hands were off you, the gun slipping from your hair as you dropped to the floor, Naoya lunged forward, using his technique to slow time around him, moving faster than should be possible.

Naoya made a mental note to apologize to you for the emotional distress he’d caused. He didn’t mean what he said -- it was just a ploy to derail the man’s attention for a fraction of a second -- but, you had clearly taken his bitter words to heart.

The damp feel and the sweet smell of the clovers beneath you were all you could focus on as your eyes struggled to acknowledge the too-fast fight, the crumple of a black-clad body.

Too much had happened in one day and all you wanted to do was curl up and cry. You were tired and lonely and felt so heartbreakingly empty—

Familiar arms wrapped around your body, picking you up.

A blink, and you were inside, a familiar room around you, so warm in his arms. An exhale, and hands -- so gentle, loving in a way you’d never experienced -- were easing the torn garment from your body.

Averted eyes, a steaming bathtub, peaceful silence.

Hands in your hair, gently cleansing more than physical hurt.

You were quiet. You had nothing to say.

A new pattern swathed over your now-clean body, crisp and unfamiliar.

You felt dizzy and overwhelmed, fingers poking at the red patches fading into purple blooms against your skin.

Big hands guided you into bed, a hushed, “I’ll be back soon,” floating gently into your ear. The soft sheets and plush blankets smothered your skin, and your eyes began to droop.

Everything was okay. Those familiar hands were stroking your cheek, and through your deliria, you reached up to grab one, wanting to know if it was real. A quiet laugh -- no more than a huff of air -- sounded from somewhere above you.

You felt warm and safe.

Tucked into bed - soft blankets pulled up to your chin - hand peeking out to grab your husband’s. You let your mind quiet, breathing deep and succumbing to fatigue.

-------

When you woke up, the room was empty. You pulled yourself to a sitting position, wincing at the ache in your legs. You scanned the room, slightly confused. There was something wrong with the room - like something was missing.

What was wrong? You had closed your eyes for just a second while holding Naoya’s hand—

Naoya.

Where was he? Hadn’t he tucked you in and promised to be right back?

The unease in your chest grew and panic spread through your body. Your eyes darted to the windows, the door. You didn’t feel safe alone.

The sound of maids and other help bustling throughout the house - setting it to rights - reached you, and you fumbled out of bed on tired, clumsy limbs.

Stepping into the hallway, you looked around in confusion at all the new faces.

Oh. Right... The maids you’d grown fond of were gone, their blood likely being scrubbed out of the carpets as you stood there, eyes darting and searching for your husband.

“Excuse me,” you spoke quietly - hoping to minimize the scratch of your throat - to the maid closest to you. “Do you know where Naoya-sama is?”

The young woman bowed low. “He should be in a meeting with the Zen’in clan heads right now, miss.”

You passed her a tired smile, murmuring your thanks as you moved in the direction of the meeting room.

You walked in silence to the end of the hallway, trailing down the stairs, turning past the entryway. You stepped shakily around the living room, doing your best to ignore the dark red stains being worked out of the tiles, as one last turn led you down the hallway that housed the formal rooms: offices, meeting rooms, libraries, and family weapon troves. Months of lonely wandering meant you knew exactly where Naoya’s meeting would take place, but as you approached the door, your steps began to falter.

Why were you even headed to see Naoya? You shouldn’t be interrupting him, especially when he was in a meeting. What would you do if you entered the meeting and made a fool of yourself in front of all of the clan heads? Naoya likely wouldn’t want his wife behaving so out of line in front of his clan leaders. Meeting aside, you weren’t even sure what you’d do when you saw him. You wanted him to comfort you like he’d done earlier, but what if that was just a fluke? What if he had just pitied you in that moment? You shouldn’t test your luck by trying to get him to be sweet with you twice in one day. What if he thought you were too clingy and annoying, always seeking out his attention? You should turn back now - head back to your shared room and ignore your anxiety. You were overthinking it; this house, and you in it, would be safe, safer than ever. Nobody would dare attack with so many sorcerers and guards crawling the property. You didn’t need to hover by Naoya’s side to feel safe, this place was safe enough, and your memories of earlier today were just getting to you.

You knew, logically, that you would be just fine if you trekked back to your room and stayed there, alone for a bit. However, that pit of paranoia illogically embedded itself in your head, and you remained frozen in the hallway.

Naoya had been so kind to you earlier; drawing you a bath, washing your hair, dressing you for bed, tucking you in and holding your hand… Maybe… Maybe he wouldn’t mind your intrusion. Maybe he would be glad to see you awake, even though he was in front of the clan leaders. Maybe he would be sympathetic towards your worries and fears, reassuring you that everything was okay. After all, he’d chosen to save you when he very well could have walked away and let you be killed.

You drew in a deep, steadying breath and knocked on the door.

A few seconds passed.

“Come in,” called an old, stern voice.

You stepped inside, head bowed towards the floor, eyes subtly shifting among the gathered men for Naoya. Having so many important clan members watch you, likely with disdain, made your body tense with fear. Your hands trembled, eyes averted towards the ground. You needed to apologize for the interruption, explain your intrusion, but your throat had closed up all of a sudden.

Naoya stood, addressing the room, “Excuse me.” He walked up to you, took your shaky hands in his own, and led you out the room and into the hallway for some privacy.

“As we were discussing, security has been far too lax—” The door shut, leaving you alone with Naoya in the hallway.

“Sorry for barging in,” you said quietly, staring in front of you at the hands covering your own.

“It’s fine.” He dropped one of your hands as his own ran through his hair. “You’re not interrupting much, just a lot of arguing.”

You nodded, pulling your hand from his and wrapping your arms around your waist. Silence filled the air.

“I… woke up and you were gone.” Realizing how accusatory that might have sounded, you scrambled to explain. “N-not that that’s a problem! I just thought I heard you saying you’d be back, before I fell asleep…” You trailed off, feeling like you were wasting Naoya’s time. You stared at the floor, nervous to avoid eye contact with him. “I woke up feeling kind of… scared, about…” Your hand came up to your neck, fingers tracing mean blotches of purple and yellow, “being alone..”

Deep in his chest, Naoya felt a tug on his heart. He really hadn’t meant to leave you all alone - he’d meant it when he told you he’d be back.

It was just that, after you’d fallen asleep, Naoya had been swamped with work. First, he had to make sure the man outside was really dead (he was - Naoya shot him twice to make sure). Then, he had to contact the clan about why all of the fucking guards had been sent away (you had no inherited cursed technique nor an heir that would be worth protecting). After that, he had to arrange for new staff to be brought in, including more security (turns out none of the Zen’ins were too keen on giving up their cooks and maids to Naoya). Then, the clan leaders arranged to meet at Naoya’s estate to discuss the Hei and the Kukuru Unit and the role they played in overall security (which is to say, they arranged for all the major players in the Zen’in family to yell at each other in Naoya’s home while pretending to care that you’d nearly been killed in what was a catastrophic failure on behalf of Zen’in security). Finally, Naoya, along with the rest of the newly arrived security guards, swept the entire estate grounds to ensure that there were no other intruders (there weren’t - the only intruder was face down in the grass with two holes in his head, as he had been for a few hours).

Naoya sighed, moving forward to pull you into his arms, murmuring, “I’m sorry.” He explained into your hair, “Got a bit busy. I didn’t mean to leave you up there all alone.”

“I… Wanted to be with you..” you mumbled into his chest, eyes closed and body melting against his.

He smiled, you were cute. His adoration faded into concern, though, when he remembered what you’d said earlier - about being scared of being alone. “You have a bad dream?” he asked, uncharacteristic worry in his voice.

You shook your head, nose knocking against his chest. “No… I just…” You chewed on your lip, thinking about how to phrase your feelings. “My mind keeps reminding me of… earlier today. It freaks me out every time.” Your voice dropped to a whisper. “It’s like I’m expecting it to happen again, and I’m scared.”

You were trembling slightly against his body, arms wrapped tight around his middle. He frowned, running a hand up and down the small of your back. “I’m sorry about today. You should have never been alone like that. Security will be tighter, and I’ll be here as well”

You nodded into his chest, head still buried in his pecs. You felt a lot safer with his reassurance, but… “Do you— Are you.. upset? That I’m— I’ve been... by another man…?”

Naoya’s heart dropped, pulling away from you to look at you incredulously. “Are you asking me… if I’m mad at you because he…?” Naoya trailed off, feeling shocked as he watched you give him a small, shameful nod. Did you really think he was so shallow and inconsiderate?

Sure, Naoya had grown up a Zen’in, through and through. He could admit he wasn’t exactly a champion for women’s rights. But, he thought you’d at least known that he cared about you. He’d made it pretty obvious right? He took his meals with you, something he’d almost never seen his relatives do with their wives, because he enjoyed your presence. He never comforted you when you had nightmares because he was worried he’d scare you. Once, he’d shifted in his “sleep” when you were trying to calm yourself down, and you’d jumped up, mashing a shaky hand over your mouth. You were so skittish, he worried that him sitting up and approaching you would send you into a full-fledged mental breakdown. Naoya also took care to make sure that you enjoyed your nights together as much as he did. There was little foreplay, but he’d hold himself off until your breath hitched in a way that made his own feel knocked out of his chest, until you were clenching tight around him, hands scrambling in the sheets. Naoya was usually a selfish lover, but never with you. Didn’t you know that?

“I could never be upset with you for that,” he murmured, pulling you back into his chest.

“Okay,” you whispered, thankful that Naoya was so understanding. You knew that if you were wed to another man, like one of Naoya’s many cousins, he’d likely be taking in a second wife, using your terrors as an excuse to bed other women.

The two of you stood like that—arms wrapped around each other, accustomed to the comfortable silence blanketing the hallway—until Naoya’s arms loosened around your middle and he stepped back. “I’m gonna head back in there and tell them to finish the meeting without me.” He brushed a strand of hair away from your face, “Wait right here, okay?”

A soft smile crept its way onto your face, fears forgotten for the moment, and you nodded in response.

———————

Naoya reaches to cover your shaking hands - wipe away your tears - pull you into his arms - soothe the ache and stress and fear from your shoulders - but you grip his wrist before he can touch you. His eyes are wide and full of concern, and they’re trained right on you.

Your breathing is too heavy and your head is too loud and you don’t think you can deal with another form of input. You just want to cry even harder.

You’re so overwhelmed right now and all you want is Naoya’s comfort, but something in you self-sabotages, and your grip on his wrist remains tight. You wish you could just relax, let him tug you into his arms and melt away the horrors in your mind, but your body remains tense, strung tight as a bow.

You had a long night last night, and Naoya steals glances at you as you take a bite of the Kakitamajiru that he requested the cook make for you.

It’s been about 3 months since everything happened, and Naoya is still patient with you. Sometimes you get so scared you ask him exactly how many guards are on watch, where they are - who they are; sometimes you struggle to speak, lips trembling as they remain shut despite the words bubbling out from your chest; sometimes you jump out of bed and turn on all the lights, eyes shining with guilt as you apologize again and again for waking Naoya up; sometimes you ask him to walk with you to places - the garden when it’s sunny out, the kitchen when you’re hungry but it’s dark at midnight, down the stairs when you’re worried about someone waiting for you around the corner.

And Naoya obliges every single time. He speaks slowly in a gentle voice, detailing not just how many guards are on watch, but their names, when their shifts started, how long he’s known them for, who their families are, and whatever else he can tell you to keep your mind off why you wanted to know all of this in the first place. He’s calm, waiting in silence until you’re ready to talk, sometimes not waiting at all - happy to spend time with you, even if there’s no conversation. He’s understanding, telling you - no, the lights don’t bother him - regardless of the fact that it’s 2:47 AM and you know that he woke up because of you. He’s loving - walking you through the backyard to the garden, avoiding going near the one spot that makes your stomach queasy - accompanying you to the kitchen as you search for snacks - placing a hand on your back as you both round the corner by the staircase.

And sometimes, getting through the night is easy. Sometimes your dreams are sweet, snores uninterrupted - though you swear up and down that you don’t snore (Naoya has a different side of the story to tell). Sometimes it’s not hard at all, with your husband’s big arm around your middle, a day of laughter and peace behind you.

Progress is never linear, but you’ve come a long way in the past 3 months, and both you and Naoya are proud of your growth.

------

i don’t know what this was either please don’t perceive me

#naoya x you #naoya x reader #jjk naoya #naoya zenin #jujutsu kaisen naoya #naoya x y/n #zen’in naoya #zenin naoya #hurt/comfort #sensitive topics

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chuluoyi · 20 days

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only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))

when you loved me

- zen'in naoya x reader

you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child

genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent

note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"How... how could you?"

Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.

Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.

You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?

"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.

His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.

“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”

This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.

The woman he loves has given birth to his child.

You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.

“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”

“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.

His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.

“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”

Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.

You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”

“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”

“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”

All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.

“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.

“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”

“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”

“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?

And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.

So, that's why...

Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.

“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”

That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”

A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.

“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”

Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.

The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.

You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.

“A girl,” you sniffled.

A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.

“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”

Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.

“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”

“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”

“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”

There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.

Now everything clicked.

“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”

Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.

And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.

“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”

“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.

“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”

Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.

“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”

#zenin naoya x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #zen'in naoya x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #zenin naoya #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fic #jjk naoya #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #jjk x you #jjk x y/n

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giuliettagaltieri · 4 months

Text

Garden of Uncertainties

Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: The day Gojō Satoru becomes a married man.

Warning: angst, arranged marriage, age gap, implied jujutsu society stigma

Word Count: 924

4 of 9

The day you marry Gojō Satoru was like any other day.

It was the definition of a Sunday morning, quiet, peaceful, and almost like a secret between the two of you.

One might imagine the day the strongest sorcerer would get married to be the grandest day every living man would ever see in their lifetime.

But it was quite the opposite.

The number of guests who witnessed your marriage can be counted with just two hands. The decorations were subdued, yet your eyes did not miss the diamonds that glittered your kanzashi. A gift from the family you are to be wedded to.

You stand there next to Gojō, trying to be as still as you can. You can hear every word the minister says and so is every song the birds sing outside the church, or every whistle of the breeze.

It was calm.

And the small smile on your husband to be’s lips added to the serenity the day has brought you.

You stood so close to him, but it barely felt close enough. Almost cursing the distance between you. You wonder if he felt the same.

Afterall, Gojō Satoru did not utter a single word to you the moment you stepped inside the doors of the church. He stood waiting at the end of the aisle, offering a calming smile to ease your nerves, receiving your gloved hand as you reached him, but that was it.

Knowing Gojō all your life made you aware of how difficult he is to read at times.

And no matter how hard you want to believe that he is glad to stand there next to you to be wedded, no assurance from him means that you cannot let your guard down.

With that said, bile started to rise to your throat but you squeezed your eyes shut to calm your nerves.

Nobody else can upset you better than yourself.

“Y/N.” His soft whisper snapped you out of your thoughts.

You look up to him, your eyes wide in confusion, lips slightly parted, it makes his eyes linger on them for a moment.

“The uh…” Gojō nearly snickers. “The minister asked if you would take me as your lawfully wedded husband.”

Oh.

Oh!

“I do.” You say quickly, turning to the already smiling minister.

Gojō playfully lets out a deep sigh of relief, making the witnesses behind you laugh at his antics.

The minister asks the same question to Gojō and he responds a split second later. Your worries quell the tiniest bit.

More words were uttered by the minister and you get lost in your thoughts once more.

Gojō has a small smile playing on his lips as he listens. His eyes stealing quick glances at the dazed look on your face.

As he expects, you don’t hear the declaration of the minister, flinching at the loud applause behind you as confusion fills your eyes once more.

And in a quick impulse, Gojō Satoru swoops in to capture your lips on his.

His hooded eyes met yours just before you melted against him, your eyes fluttering to a close. And the cheers get louder.

Warmth fills your chest, almost overpowering the doubts.

Almost.

Gojō ends the kiss with his eyes shrouded with a look that once again summoned the uncertainties to your chest.

But he gives you the smallest smile of assurance.

“Calm yourself, my love.” He whispers as he caresses your cheek. And then he has your hand in his and a grin finds itself on his lips as he faces the small crowd.

You did as he told you and you smiled too.

It is your wedding day.

You have no business feeling miserable.

The banquet that followed was livelier.

Guests from the other clans and your husband’s acquaintances are all present.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling at people all afternoon.

There were speeches from elders. Some with lessons you will cherish forever, some with warnings hidden behind fragrant words.

Naoya Zen’in, now tipsy, kept coming back to your table, saying over and over that he could have sworn he had been married to you before. Until Gojō led him away. You blanch after having caught the end of their conversation, mostly gruesome threats from your husband.

The sun was almost setting in the distance and you cannot quite come to a conclusion of how exactly you are feeling.

As you sit next to your newly wedded husband in his car, you nibble on your lips as you watch the pavement blankly.

“Have you come to regret your decision to meet me at the altar?” His voice was playful but even so probing.

You let out a small exhale and mustered a smile as you faced him.

“No, of course not.” You laugh lightly and Gojō returns your smile but the two of you face the road a second later. Your smiles are gone.

The bliss brought on by the wedding was slowly fading, it seems.

You wanted to talk more with him. To know him better. But it felt wrong to break the silence.

Apparently, Gojō felt the same way as he no longer spoke, but instead, he put his hand atop your thigh and squeezed gently. A show of affection, destroying any physical boundaries you previously had, solidifying the fact that you are now married and everything is about to change between you.

In response, you place a hand over his, telling him that you are willing to take the first steps with him into this voyage you embarked on.

Where the Blue Roses Grow

#gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojō satoru #arranged marriage #jujutsu kaisen #husband gojo #gojo satoru angst #gojo fluff #where the blue roses grow #gojo series

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bungalowbear · 6 months

Text

Wolves of Tokyo: Savage Good Boy

Pairing: alpha!Fushiguro Toji x omega!f!reader

Summary: Pressured to choose a husband, you make a rebellious choice after a stranger comes to your rescue.

Warnings: abo dynamics, misogynistic themes, some violence, creepy alphas, love hotel, smut (fingering, p in v, knotting), biting, mutual bonding, mdni

Word Count: 8.5k

A/N: Here goes my first nosedive into abo. This is going to be a whole series with different jjk men and their readers. First up is Hana! But even though I’ve given her a name it’s more to make writing/reading easier the further along we get. I try to be as inclusive as I can therefore there are no physical descriptions, so anyone can read and hopefully picture themselves. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist / Playlist

There are many wolf clans in the city of Tokyo. But the Gojo, Kamo, and Zen’in families stand above all others. Power, wealth, and status are the pillars that have supported them for generations.

Your family is less prominent, just one rung below, though sought after for its long history of birthing powerful and gifted offspring. A blessing, your father says, the heavens bestowed upon your clan. But you’ve only ever regarded it as a curse.

Not only do you have the unfortunate luck of being born a woman, but also an omega. You’re even more unfortunate to have been born to your father, the head of your clan and the one forcing you into an arranged marriage.

“Do you know how many omegas would kill to be in your position?” he asks, voice tinged with frustration.

“Probably, like, a ton.”

You’re upside down on the sofa, legs hanging over the back and face looking out through the floor to ceiling windows of the living room. Your father’s penthouse offers an enviable view of the city. Among the patchwork constellations of lit windows of office buildings, you marvel at Tokyo Tower, turned upside down from your position, shining in all her glory.

“And yet you treat this with such contempt?”

Your father’s voice interrupts your city gazing. You hear his heavy footsteps echo against the hardwood floors as he comes to block your view. You refuse to raise your eyes to him, already familiar with the image of his crossed arms and rigid posture when he scolds you.

“Forgive me, father,” the words roll off your tongue dry and indifferent, “for not being so eager to sell myself off like some prized cattle.”

“You can’t keep pushing this meeting off,” he argues. “The other clans are getting restless. Soon they won’t be asking, but demanding.”

You roll your eyes and sit up so your feet are planted on the floor and your head is upright again. This time you turn your gaze up at your father, not cowering under his stern expression.

“You realize we don’t care about any of this, right? Satoru and I have been friends since we were children, and we both agree this is so archaic. Choso spends more time at that animal shelter than at home.” Your hands clutch the edges of the seat. A sour taste settles on your tongue. “And I’d claw my own eyes out before marrying Naoya. He’s the only one you’ve all successfully indoctrinated into this misogynistic bullshit.”

Pushing off the couch, you stride past your father and plant yourself beside the window. You pull your legs against your chest and rest your head on your knees. Your father’s footsteps come closer. His hand reaches toward your head and gives you a gentle pet, but you shake him off and scoot further away.

“What am I going to do with you?”

You can hear fondness creeping in his voice, but you won’t allow it to sway you.

“How about not forcing me to marry someone I don’t want to,” you quip.

Your father sighs.

“Our clan has kept itself alive and thriving for generations through marriage pacts. If we—”

“Maybe we don’t have to anymore,” you interrupt, looking at him with imploring eyes. “It’s a new time, father. Things are different now.”

“Not for us.”

He looks at you like you’re a child again. A sad smile that suggests you don’t understand anything about the way the world works. But you do know, and it’s not a world you want to live in anymore.

You and Satoru talk about the changes you want to make within the top clans. And you’re committed, you want to see it happen, but sometimes it seems impossible. At times you feel so small and so lonely. As a male alpha, Satoru doesn’t fully understand your fears, just like you don’t his. And you know he gets insecure like you do. The only difference is that he has someone to confide in, to support him unconditionally. You don’t. Which is why it’s so important for your husband to be someone of the same mind as you. Not someone who will keep you trapped underneath his thumb.

“If mother was here she’d be on my side.”

You huff, burying your head in your arms. You feel the warmth of your father next to you as he comes closer again. This time when he puts his arm around you, you don’t move away.

“If your mother was here she’d want you to make a smart decision.” He speaks with a sorrow you can’t fully comprehend. You lost a mother, but he lost a wife. A mate. “She’d want you to be protected and provided for. Each of the clans is offering that.”

“Wouldn’t she also want me to be happy?”

He chuckles. “You’re just like her.”

You lift your head. He stares at you with glassy eyes.

“Beautiful and wise,” he says. A loving smile curves his lips. “And stubborn.”

Your father’s expression turns somber. You already know what he sees in your face, in every feature that composes your physical identity. You see it every time you step in front of a mirror. A near identical copy of your mother. A living, breathing reminder that she once walked the earth, long enough to give you her likeness.

“I miss her,” you say, dropping your head onto his shoulder.

“So do I.”

You make sure your father is asleep before leaving the apartment. You close the door carefully behind you and take the elevator to the lobby. It’s nearly midnight, the usual time you step out, and your neighborhood is as you anticipate, quiet.

The walk to the train station is quick. You tap your fare card on the reader and head underground to catch the last local train to Shinjuku. You’ll most likely have to take a cab home, but you’ll figure that out later. Conversations with your father always leave you mentally drained and the only thing you can focus on right now is getting your hands on some yaki udon.

Once you arrive at your station, you exit up the stairs and onto the street. The diner isn’t far so you keep your head down and let your feet lead you along the familiar route.

It’s a bit crowded for a Thursday but you don’t mind. You can blend in better. Disappear among the mixed scents of the other designations that crowd the sidewalk. You mostly catch the sweetness of omegas in the air. They travel in groups and you assume they don’t have mates of their own. It’s rare for an alpha to allow their mate to be out this late. Thankfully, you don’t have that problem. Not yet, at least.

You’re not sure how long you can keep stalling your father. You understand he pressures you only because he’s pressured by the other clans, but you don’t understand why he doesn’t just stand up to them and refuse. You don’t know what he’s so afraid of. He’s already been through the worst time of his life.

The death of your mother was the lowest point not only for you and your father, but also the entire clan. Only with her absence were you able to realize the influential woman she was and what she meant to the other branches of the family. Their support through your grief and your father’s brief depression, their unwavering loyalty and devotion, their presence the purest form of unconditional love, was the foundation your mother built that gave the clan a foot to keep standing on.

You and your father had endured your mother’s death with the clan by your side. When the mourning period ended you promised yourself you would be a leader worthy of your family name in return for their support. You’d be as resilient as your father, and as influential as your mother.

But the only way you can achieve that is through the right opportunity. Clearly your father won’t be the one to make one happen for you, so you have to find it yourself.

A voice calling out stops you in your tracks. As your mind clears itself of your previous thoughts your ears listen for the voice again. You look over your shoulder at the opening of a dark alley and wait. After a few seconds you hear the same cry for help.

You backtrack a few steps and peer into the alley. Cautiously, you enter and follow the whimpering sounds and scared scent of an omega. There are several overhead light posts lining the walls, and it’s beneath one of those lights you see a woman cowering beneath two burly men with her hand pressed against her red cheek. She peers between the two with tears in her eyes and finds your gaze, relief pouring out of her as if you’re an angel come to her rescue.

“Hey!”

You shout, too fast for you to think about the consequences. But it gets their attention and gives the omega the opening needed to get away. One of the men tries to grab her but she quickly evades him and sprints away toward the other end of the alley.

“Big mistake, girl.”

They turn to you and you realize too late that they’re both alphas. Angry and irritated alphas. And you’re alone with them.

You try to make your own escape, but a harsh grip on your arm pulls you back. You’re shoved against the wall and the space is too narrow to put any distance between you and the increasingly overwhelming spicy tang of their combined scents that fill your nostrils.

“What do we have here?” The one that holds you in place has shaggy brown hair. He inhales deeply, closing his eyes with a salacious grin. “Another little omega to play with?”

In the brief moment his eyes are shut, you shift your feet so that your right foot is slightly behind your left. Using all the force you can muster, you thrust the palm of your right hand up and into his nose. He steps back with a shout, hands flying to his face as blood trickles out between his fingers. The other man steps around his friend and roughly pins your shoulders to the wall.

“A feisty one, eh?” His bald head shines beneath the light post as he leans in close. He takes a good whiff of you. “Doesn’t matter. I can smell how scared you really are. A little sour mixed in with all that sweetness. Just how I like it.”

His nose inches toward the sensitive gland on your neck and your body revolts. You’ve acted mostly on instinct so far, but you’re intentionally defiant as you gather a pool of saliva in your mouth and spit it all out onto his face.

“What the—” He jerks back, wiping away your attack with the back of his hand. An angry growl crawls out of his throat as he raises a hand to strike you. “You little bitch.”

You shut your eyes, waiting for the sting of his palm to sharply make contact with your cheek.

But it never comes.

Your eyes open and your brow furrows at the hand hovering in mid air above your face. When your gaze lowers you realize it’s because another hand has it locked in place.

You didn’t hear him, couldn’t even sense him approach, but this new person is no doubt another alpha. Your lips part in awe at the size of him. He’s massive, towering over you and the others. His broad frame is intimidating and his arms and chest are barely contained beneath the fibers of his plain black t-shirt.

The bald alpha tries to pull away but the grip he’s in is too strong. In a flash, your savior turns him around with a yank of his arm and sends a powerful kick to his backside. The smaller man goes flying forward onto his hands and knees. His friend with the still bleeding nose helps him up from the ground, and they both turn back to the giant of a man now standing between you and them.

“What the hell, man?” the bald one complains. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Now it does.”

The deep timbre of your savior’s voice makes your knees shake. It suits his powerful presence and makes you thankful he’s on your side.

All three alphas seem to be locked in a staring contest. But while the two become visibly nervous the longer it goes on, their opponent’s cool expression doesn’t waver. He folds his arms and his muscles strain against the short sleeves of his shirt. The two others seem to come to a decision and start backing away. They spare you a quick glance, and your savior a scowl, before they turn and escape down the alley.

You watch from behind the alpha’s frame until the two round the corner and are finally out of sight. Letting out a sigh of relief, you step away from the wall. But it’s short lived when the remaining alpha turns his sharp gaze on you.

“Be more careful next time you decide to play hero, yeah?”

His shirt looks too small for him, and you wonder if it’s on purpose to show off his insanely fit body. You notice a hole in the left knee of his sweatpants that sit low on his hips and the white socks dusted brown with dirt slid into a pair of black slides. Your gaze snaps up to his face and zeroes in on the scar at the corner of his lip, then to the black strands of hair that fall in his face, shading a pair of emerald green eyes. You decide that despite his semi-homeless presentation he’s actually very attractive.

“Thanks,” you say. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

He looks down his nose at you, appraising you like you just did him. You wonder what he sees. You wonder if the smirk that pulls at the corner of his mouth is meant to unnerve you, entice you, or maybe both. And you wonder why, since you run on instinct so much, do you go against your designation’s expectations and make so much trouble for your father.

“You hungry?”

He tilts his head. “What?”

“I was heading to a diner,” you say. “Let me buy you something. It’s the least I can do.”

His eyes narrow for a second as he contemplates your offer. Though you already know what his answer will be.

“Sure.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Whatever.”

You smirk and motion for him to follow you. The noise from the street is a welcome reprieve from the dark and quiet alley, but being back on the sidewalk means navigating through the crowds again. You’re so used to walking alone, swiftly weaving through bodies, that you almost forget your new companion. You look over your shoulder to make sure you haven’t left him behind and your brows rise at the empty space behind you.

He is only about five or six steps behind, but his broad build and being several heads taller than nearly everyone on the street makes them steer clear and create a path for him to walk unimpeded. Your eyes meet and he grins. The way his scar stretches and his eyes narrow make him look dangerous, and like he’s certainly aware of his presence.

You hum, curious about who this man is, and turn your head forward to continue walking. Several blocks later and a right turn onto a narrow street, the diner finally comes into view. Kanji characters glow in red neon above the entrance.

“It doesn’t look like much,” you say when you’re standing in front of the dark wood sliding door. “But they’ve got the best curry you’ll ever eat.”

He doesn’t say anything as you slide the door open and wave him in first. You weren’t close enough before to notice, but when he ducks his head and passes in front of you into the diner you catch his scent. Cypress with an underlying hint of spicy cinnamon fills your senses and you have to shake your head to keep from focusing on it too long.

You enter after him and slide the door closed. He looks over the menu options on the ticket machine to the left of the door while you peer past him to the long counter. The sound of running water in the kitchen stops and a familiar face appears from behind the corner. When Momo’s brother sees you he says your name.

“Welcome.” He smiles at you warmly. Then his eyes cut to the large man beside you, who doesn’t take his focus off the food options, and tilts his head in silent inquiry. But you shake your head and he understands that now isn’t the time for questions. “Sit anywhere you’d like. Momo will—”

He pauses, looking around the diner with a frown for his sister. It’s a narrow room with a counter that spans almost the entire length of the space with room on each end to exit through the doors. The right wall is lined with tables that seat two and leaves a small aisle in between for passage along the length of the diner. The back door leads to the restroom, which is a separate room in the alley with easy street access, and where you’re certain his sister is.

You chuckle, knowing when Momo reappears she’ll be in for a scolding. Turning your attention to the machine, you feed it several notes and select your udon and toppings.

“Get as much as you want,” you say.

Your companion doesn’t hesitate to start pressing buttons, choosing a bowl of ramen and the large portion of curry. After he selects an order of gyoza and tempura the money slot blinks green and you slide in more notes. He looks at you with raised brows, probably not believing your initial offer, before he makes his final selections of yakitori and two beers. You add another yakitori and a beer for yourself before accepting your change and fishing out the tickets from the dispenser.

“Let’s take a seat.” You turn to the alpha beside you. “I’m sure—”

Suddenly the back door slides open and all eyes are on the flustered omega as she enters the diner. She straightens the apron around her waist before swiftly closing the door, but not fast enough that you don’t catch the blur of white hair dash behind her. When she looks up you can see the smudge of gloss around the corners of her mouth and you have to hold back your giggles.

Her mouth splits into a wide grin when she spots you and hurries around the counter toward you. With a tilt of your head in his direction, the alpha follows your lead down the aisle and toward a table along the wall.

“Hey, Momo,” you greet your friend. You lift your hand and use your knuckle to clear away the stray gloss on her skin. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she answers, shyly averting her eyes. Her hands smooth down the front of her apron. “Really good.”

You raise your brows in amusement, lips parting to tease her, but Momo takes the tickets from you and tears them in half before scurrying off to the kitchen. You watch her go with a fond shake of your head.

“She’s cute.”

Your attention shifts to the alpha now seated at the table. He grins while making the observation. His gaze lingers on the entrance of the kitchen, where the low murmurs of Momo’s scolding reach your ears.

You take the seat across from him.

“Thank you,” you say, “for, uh, helping me back there.”

“You always pick fights with alphas?”

You think about your father and the clan heads, always aware of the power they hold. You’d learned about it all from Satoru growing up, your only confidant in this repeating generational cycle, and yet you refuse to give in. All your life you knew what awaited you and you took every chance to delay it. Ever since your mother’s death you wanted something more for yourself. You wanted a different future.

“Yeah.” You smile to yourself. “I guess I do.”

“Pretty stupid for an unmated omega.”

He scoffs. You roll your eyes.

“We’re not helpless, you know.”

“You got in a good hit, so maybe not helpless.” He chuckles, tilting his head down to narrow his eyes playfully. “Still a weak little thing though.”

“I literally made him bleed.”

The smirk he gives you makes him look less intimidating.

“You’re not like other omegas,” he says.

It’s not a question. Ever since you met him you’ve felt his calculating gaze on you. Not heavy or intense, but just there. A silent presence that maintains its patience, watching and studying and waiting for the right time to take action.

“Here you are.” Momo appears with your beers, placing them on the table with a steady hand. She looks from you to your companion. “Who’s your new friend?”

“I ran into some trouble,” you vaguely explain. “He was kind enough to get me out of it.”

She frowns. “Trouble?”

You wave off her concern. “It was barely anything.”

Momo turns to him, bowing her head in gratitude.

“Thank you for taking care of my friend. I’ll bring some dessert, on the house.”

“Momo, I can—”

You start to decline her offer, but the deep, rich voice of the man across from you cuts you off.

“I appreciate that, sweetheart.”

Momo perks up before flitting away with a promise of ice cream. You watch the alpha as he eyes Momo’s backside. You clear your throat.

“She’s spoken for. And your competition won’t fold as easily as those creeps in the alley.”

“Just lookin’,” he says, reaching for his first beer.

You take your own beer in your hands, bringing it up to your lips for a sip. You eye him over the rim, take in everything about him. His hair, his face, the bored expression he near constantly wears. The more you see, the more familiar he looks.

“So…what’s your name?” you ask.

“Why do you wanna know?” he counters.

“Isn’t it normal for me to want to know the name of my knight in shining armor?”

He laughs before taking a large gulp of his beer, slamming it down onto the table and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He tilts his head to look at you through half lidded eyes. You’re sure he’s trying to be seductive, and you have no doubt he can be, but after countless alphas from various clans trying to attract your attention you’ve built up a sort of immunity to pretty words and manipulative men.

He pouts when you show no sign of wavering.

“Doesn’t matter,” he huffs.

“I think it does,” you insist.

Like with the alphas in the alley, you’re caught in a staring contest with the man before you. But after a minute of you matching his impassive expression he smacks his teeth. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest.

“What’s it to you anyway?”

You shrug. “You look like someone I know.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “You’ve got the same eyes.”

He hums.

“And the same hair,” you add.

He raises his brows. His green eyes light up in mock interest.

“Even got the same frown.”

“Wow,” he leans forward, propping an elbow on the table and resting his chin in his large palm, “the same frown.”

“He’s like a carbon copy of you. Almost like you could be father and son.”

At this, he straightens up. His expression hardens and he eyes the diner warily, as if he’s been unknowingly lured into some nefarious den.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“I asked you first.”

You wait for his answer, patient as you take another sip of beer. He clenches his jaw.

“Toji,” he finally answers.

“Family name?”

He hesitates. It seems any answer he has prepared for you won’t allow him to remain anonymous. But he could also give you a fake name, though something tells you he won’t.

“Fushiguro.”

He whispers the name, one you’re familiar with. You nod your head.

Before Fushiguro, he was Zen’in. Everyone knows the story of the alpha who deserted his clan after years of being ignored and put down by his family. An alpha who couldn’t shift into his wolf form was considered a blemish on the Zen’in name. But what Toji lacked as a shapeshifter he made up for in his human form. Physically stronger, faster, sharper than nearly any man or wolf, he made a name for himself as a hunter. You don’t know how you feel about him hunting other wolves, but from the stories you heard he was quite impressive.

“Okay,” Toji says, “so what’s your name?”

You tell him your full name, then add, “But my friends call me Hana.”

He scoffs. “So we’re friends?”

“We can be.”

“Why do your friends call you Hana?” he asks instead.

“Because they think they’re funny, dubbing me the blooming flower of my family.”

He chuckles, scratching at his chin. “So what’s the daughter of a clan leader doing sneaking around at night?”

“Needed to clear my head.” You trace a line down the side of your glass, breaking through the condensation. “I’m expected to choose a husband soon.”

“Right.” Toji nods. “Your family has the golden womb.”

You scrunch your nose at his wording. That’s all you are to any of them. A pawn. An object. You could just run away, you think. You’d ask Satoru to lend you some money until you get settled somewhere far away, then you’d live your life free of clan traditions. On your own terms.

But you know it’s nothing but a fantasy. Even if you ran they’d send someone to track you down and bring you back. Someone like Toji…

You lift your gaze to the alpha, and slowly an idea begins to form in your mind. You recall a thought you had: find your own opportunity.

“What do you think about marriage?”

“The first time wasn’t so bad.” Toji shrugs. “Second time was more for convenience.”

“You know,” you pause, gauging his expression, “they say third time’s the charm.”

His brows pinch together. He’s obviously puzzled.

You smile. “What do you say?”

“Marriage? To you?” He points a thumb over his shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head back there?”

“Think about it. If we get married your family will have to bring you back into the fold. You’ll be bankrolled by them again and I’ll get to rub it in all the clan leaders’ faces that I found away around their ancient tradition.”

“What makes you think I want their money?” Toji frowns. “Or would even go back if they asked?”

“Well, word around the packs is that you’re a bit of a gambler, so whatever money you acquire on your own is yours to do with as you please,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “And if you don’t want to go back to your family then you can live with me. I’ll take care of your food, housing, and other essentials.”

“And be, what? Your sugar baby?”

“Essentially.” You chuckle to yourself. “Also, I’m sure they’ll want a stake in decisions about our children. That’s going to be so much fun.”

“Eh?” Toji scowls. “Now we’re talking about children?”

“Obviously we’ll have to have at least one,” you say. Avoiding children is hard in your position, but becoming a mother is not entirely out of the question. Having a mother like yours, a part of you had always been eager for your turn. “And I’m curious to see how they’ll turn out. I’ve heard stories about you. With your strengths and my “golden womb” perhaps our child will turn out to be very powerful. God, I can just picture the looks on the faces of those old men.”

Toji smirks. “You’re a spiteful one aren’t you?”

“Since I’m an only child, my father will pass on his business to whoever I marry.” You’re talking to yourself now, your future laying itself out before your eyes. “And after he does you’ll tell him you aren’t interested in running the company, then you’ll announce that you’re turning it over to me. I know everything about that place. I’ll keep growing the company, make sure the clan continues to prosper, and start making changes from the inside. Of course you’ll be free to do your own thing.”

You pause, really looking at Toji now and see a glint in his eyes as he stares back at you. You can tell he’s considering your offer.

“What about divorce?” he asks.

“You’ll have to sign a prenup, so there’s really no benefit for you if we get divorced. My father will also make sure that I have full custody of any children we have. You’ll essentially be right back where you are now. Just older.”

He’s silent as he rests his cheek in his palm.

“I’ll make sure you won’t want for anything.” You express the same sentiment your father did to you. How strange, you think, an omega offering protection and security to an alpha. “And if you want to see Megumi, I can ask—”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’ll do it. I’ll marry you.” Toji pointedly avoids your gaze. “But we don’t have to involve the kid.”

Your heart clenches. You wonder if he’ll be this indifferent to your own children.

“Okay.” You extend your hand across the table. “It’s a deal.”

Toji’s hand is warm around yours as he takes it and gives it a firm shake. Momo comes back to your table with your small feast. You thank her and she’s off again. Toji already has chopsticks in hand, but before he can take the first bite you speak up.

“For my father to accept this betrothal we’ll have to show him we’re serious. That there’s no going back.”

Toji looks at you with ramen hanging in front of his open mouth. “How do we do that?”

You smirk.

“With a little bonding time.”

After your meal, you pay for a cab to take you and Toji to Love Hotel Hill in Shibuya. You’re dropped of at the entrance of the hotel, but before going inside you take hold of Toji’s elbow and turn him to face you.

“This is your last chance to back out,” you tell him. “If you walk through those doors with me there’s no going back.”

Toji’s head pushes back slightly. His brow furrows and he looks almost…offended. His lips part and he looks like he’s about to speak, but then his brows rise. His eyes scan your face and you wonder what he sees.

Does he see how hopeful you are? Does he realize that you’re both desperate for the same chance to change your lives?

“Don’t worry, omega.” He smirks, taking your hand that’s still touching his elbow. His thumb brushes over the inside of your wrist. A tingle zips through your arm. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Relief washes through you and you smile. You don’t think much of it as you wrap your arm through his, pulling you close to him as you walk through the automatic glass doors of the hotel.

The lobby is empty except for the reception desk where you know an attendant sits behind the opaque window. The rest of the space is finely decorated with warm overhead lighting, lush green plants, and a long leather couch placed against the far wall.

Your shoes tap softly against the tile as you and Toji step up to the board on the right wall lit up with pictures of available rooms to choose from. There are a few themed options, but you and Toji decide on a standard room for the night. So you choose a room on the top floor along with the “stay” option then go to the reception desk to pay. After you exchange notes for the key card a soft feminine voice bids you a pleasant stay.

After thanking the attendant you and Toji move to the elevator. He pushes the call button and you stand, your arm still around his, and wait. When the bell dings to signal the elevator’s arrival you prepare to step forward, but when the doors open a couple is already inside. The man removes his hands from the woman’s hips. He clears his throat and she giggles. You avert your eyes as you and Toji step aside for them to exit. When you’re inside and the elevator doors are closing you can hear the sounds of their infatuated exchange as they walk through the lobby and back out into the world.

You and Toji ride to the top floor in silence. The key card weighs heavy in your hand and you can’t help the racing of your heart as the numbers above the doors keep climbing. When the doors open you and Toji move at the same time to step into the hallway and toward your room.

Not only are you on the top floor but also in the north east corner. Although the walk to your room seems a mile long, it gives you the sense of greater privacy feeling so far away. There are no sounds from the other doors you pass that you can detect. Knowing Toji’s heightened senses, you wonder if he hears anything. You peek over at him but his face sits in the same flat expression.

When you arrive, you swipe the key card above the handle and enter the room. There’s a small area at the entrance where you both take off your socks and shoes. Toji is barefoot in less than a minute while you’re still bent at the waist working your shoes off.

Once you’re done and are upright again you stride further into the room. It’s not unlike any other pricey hotel you’ve stayed at with its marble counters and hardwood floors. The only difference would be that there’s only one window with the curtains pulled shut for privacy. You do, however, like the large circular bed in the middle of the room.

It’s on a raised section of the floor, and instead of hardwood the bed is surrounded by soft carpet. It’s sunken into the platform and dressed in white bedding. A round light fixture hovers directly above, like a spotlight on the main event.

It excites you. So you follow the feeling and waste no time getting everything prepared just the way you like it.

“Feel free to grab anything from the bar,” you say over your shoulder.

You hear the mini fridge open and close then the hiss of a bottle opening. You feel Toji’s eyes on you, watching as you flit around the room and grab towels from the bathroom along with extra blankets from the closet by the door. You toss them onto the bed and arrange them to your liking before jumping on top and rolling around your makeshift nest.

“What are you doing?” he asks, coming to stand at the edge of the bed. He takes a sip of his bottled beer.

“I want to make sure it smells like us before we get started.” You roll around a bit more. Spread your arms and legs out like you’re making a snow angel. “Come here.”

When he doesn’t move you crawl on your hands and knees and take hold of his arm. You try pulling him down to you but he doesn’t budge. Not a single inch. You try again, but are only met with Toji’s laughter.

“Told you already,” the smile he gives you is nothing short of mocking, “you’re a weak little thing.”

Your lips press together tightly, not appreciating the way he taunts you. So when your hand lets go of his arm and your fingers glide over to tease at the hem of his sweatpants you grin triumphantly when he jerks away.

“Oi!”

You giggle at the scowl Toji throws your way. He downs the rest of his beer and tosses the bottle onto the floor carelessly and it rolls away onto the hardwood. Your eyes follow him as he purposefully walks in an arc to get to the other side of the bed before plopping down onto it, landing on his back with a huff.

“You have to roll around so your scent gets everywhere,” you say.

“M’not a child.” He crosses his arms under his head, shutting his eyes. “Not gonna roll.”

“Fine.”

You surprise him for a second time by swiftly darting across the mattress and straddling his hips. His green eyes fly open and he looks at you like you’re absolutely insane. But you pay him no mind as you grab the edges of the blanket beneath him and fold each end over his front. You hold them closed tightly and sway him a little back and forth. You’re impressed with yourself that you can even manage that with how huge he is.

“Having fun?” Toji deadpans.

“A little,” you admit.

Next, you grab a towel from behind you and place it over his head, rubbing hair with it like you would if you were drying it after a shower. Toji says something but it’s unintelligible beneath the towel.

You pull it away from his face. “What was that?”

“Said it smells nice.”

“Really?” You give it a whiff. “What’s it smell like?”

“Like a plum. Tart with just the right amount of sweetness,” he says. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip. “Smells like you.”

“You’re not going soft on me now are—”

You gasp when Toji’s hand shoots out to take hold of your arm. He presses his nose to your wrist, inhaling deeply. The intimate action makes your lower belly erupt with butterflies.

As if sensing your reaction, Toji sits up. His face hovers just an inch away from you and he holds onto your hips to keep you from scooting backward. Your noses touch, lips just barely brushing. Lust swims in the pools of his green irises and you see your own eagerness reflected in them. You spend several long heated seconds exchanging warm breaths before you lean in, closing the gap and pressing your lips to his.

It starts out slowly, both of you acquainting yourselves with the taste and feel of each other, before it picks up. You’re not sure which one of you initiated it, but when the kiss turns needier and hungrier neither of you protest. You moan when his tongue passes through your lips, the wet muscle hunting for more of your taste.

The heat between you starts to rise and your mind tells you that you’re both wearing too many clothes. Your hands scramble to the hem of Toji’s shirt and start tugging until he raises his arms and you pull it over his head. Your lips are disconnected for a moment, but find each other again when his torso is bare.

Your hands wander the expanse of his sculpted chest, fingers pressing into firm muscle hidden beneath hot smooth flesh. Your touch ventures further down to his stomach where you explore every dip and crevice of abdominal muscle etched to perfection. You pull a gasp from the alpha beneath you when your fingers ghost over where the thin trail of hair on his lower stomach disappears into the waistband of his sweatpants.

Toji growls into your mouth before taking the bottom of your shirt and jerking it upward, impatient in his movements. You lift your arms and he rips it the rest of the way off you, leaving only your bra to cover your chest. The shirt is discarded before Toji attaches his mouth to yours again, but he doesn’t stay there. Hot lips start making their way lower, leaving a wet trail down your throat until his teeth are nipping and teasing at the gland on your neck. You gasp at the sensation and feel the vibrations of Toji’s laughter against your collarbone.

“Asshole,” you say, breathlessly.

He smiles against your skin, not bothering to argue, as his hands settle on your waist and give a firm squeeze. “Stand up.”

It’s not an alpha command, but you move as if it is. Your feet sink into the mattress and you hold onto Toji’s shoulders for balance. He undoes the button and pulls down your zipper, and in one motion he has your bottom half completely bare in front of him. His face presses into your hip as he helps you get each foot free.

Now you stand only in your bra, watching as he tugs down his sweatpants to reveal himself to you. He’s half hard but you can already tell he’s definitely the largest you’ve ever had. While he works his pants off you reach behind and undo your bra, letting it fall off your arms before you toss it onto the floor to land with the rest of your clothes.

Toji’s touch is on you again. Warm, calloused hands brush up and down your thighs before hooking at the back of your knees. He pulls you down so you’re once again straddling him. He kisses you, briefly but with more fervor, before he leans his head down and takes one of your nipples in his mouth.

You bring a hand to the back of his head, fingers threading through the strands as you keep him close. A whimper escapes you as the tip of his tongue expertly traces circles around your sensitive nub. Your lower body clenches when he moves to your other breast, lips firmly attaching themselves and giving a light tug.

Your free hand reaches down between your bodies to take hold of Toji’s cock. His base is nestled among a patch of dark curls, and the more your hand works up and down his length the more of him you feel. Mentally, and maybe physically, you’re drooling at his girth. And the thick vein running on the underside of his shaft makes you eager to have him inside you already, so you pump him earnestly until he’s fully erect. You keep at it until suddenly he swats your hand away.

“Toji? What—”

Your words catch in your throat when his hand suddenly dives in between your legs. Toji’s fingers run through your folds, humming in satisfaction with how soaking wet you already are. He only gives a single teasing prod at your entrance before he plunges two thick fingers inside you.

Gasping, your hands clutch onto his biceps. You pant as his long fingers reach deeper than you ever could on your own. He sets a fast pace from the start, making you choke on your own moans as he finger fucks you without mercy. His fingers curl to find that special spot inside you that has you sinking your nails into his skin. And when his palm presses down on your clit your heart literally skips a beat. Every precise movement of his fingers has the coil tightening in your belly, has you teetering on the edge.

“I’m almost—” You let out a whimper. “I’m close.”

“Yeah, you are.” Toji pushes his nose against your cheek, tongue licking at the curve of your jaw. “Can feel how tight you’re squeezing my fingers.”

You’re almost there. Just a little bit more and then you’ll—

The tension, the heat. It’s gone. The end you were so close to capturing is suddenly ripped away. You stare at the pair of fingers that should be inside you, but instead are shiny and glistening before your eyes.

“Toji.” You whine as your bottom lip juts out into a pout. “Why’d you do that? I was—”

But your protests are silenced when Toji shushes you. He lowers his slick covered hand and you watch as he strokes himself. You swallow as he delves back through your folds for more lubricant. Your hips twitch at the contact and your pussy clenches hungrily around nothing as it waits for Toji to finish preparing himself.

“Don’t worry, omega.” Toji’s voice is barely above a whisper. A soft promise just for you. “I’ll give you what you want.”

You raise your hips as Toji lines himself up with your entrance, pressing his tip against you before slowly entering. Your breathing comes in short spurts as you try to adjust to his size. Each inch burns but it soon gives way to pleasure when he bottoms out.

You’re both panting when you’re fully seated on top of him. Toji leans back on his hands, green eyes staring up at you.

“Take it,” he says. “Take what you need.”

You lean forward, holding his face in your palms, and kiss him. When you lift your hips, you whine into his mouth and bring yourself back down. You plant your hands on his shoulders and set your pace. You pull back as you bounce on his cock, feeling the familiar tightness once again.

“That’s it. Keep going.” One of Toji’s hands comes to rest at the base of your neck, a subtle guide to your actions that barely registers in the back of your currently one track driven mind. “Doing so good, omega.”

He’s called you that several times tonight, but you can’t help clench around him when he says it now. Full of pride and encouragement. A primal instinct in you is reacting to this man, this alpha, and you like it.

Suddenly, Toji pushes forward and pulls you to his chest, one arm around your waist while his other hand takes hold of your chin and points it upward. His mouth hovers over your exposed flesh, over the sensitive gland on the side of your neck. He doesn’t need you to tell him when, you can feel the way you’re coming together.

You slam down onto him once, twice, and then you cry out as the tight coil within finally snaps at the same time Toji sinks his teeth into you. Sharp canines pierce your mating gland, sending a shiver down your spine.

Blood trickles out of the wound and Toji laps away at the trail of crimson, leaving none behind. You wrap your arms around him. You want him closer, as close as you can be.

You feel dazed, like the world has shifted on its axis. Your head drops as a fog clouds your mind, struggling to conjure up any other thought besides Toji. But all you feel is the hot aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you as the familiar scent of cypress and cinnamon surrounds you.

The world shifts again and this time you land on something soft. You blink your eyes open, realizing you’re on your back now. Toji hovers above you. His broad shoulders take over your field of vision so all you see is him. His black hair hangs in sweaty strands down the sides of his face. Those emerald green of his eyes are locked onto you. It makes your heart flutter.

“Alpha.”

Toji’s expression softens when you call to him. Plead for him. He lowers his head to nose at the mark he’s just made. You flinch, still sensitive.

“Did so good for me, omega.” His praise makes you keen. You arch your back to touch your chest to his. “Now it’s my turn.”

He’s still hard inside you, not having found his release yet. He wraps your legs around his waist and starts moving. Like earlier, he doesn’t wait to set a quick pace. His hips pound into you as he chases his own pleasure.

Whimpers escape you as he bullies your sensitive pussy. He braces his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his back, keeping him trapped inside your locked limbs.

“I’m gonna…fuck,” Toji hisses in your ear. “Wanna cum inside you.”

“It’s okay.” You hold onto him tighter. “M’on birth control.”

After your admission his thrusts turn erratic. You feel the swelling at the base of his cock grow larger and larger. He’s hot and heavy inside you. All around you. He’s overwhelming but you don’t want him to stop.

“Almost there,” Toji grunts.

“Please, Alpha.”

Toji moans, both from your plea and the way you tighten yourself around his cock. Your body wants him. Can’t get enough. You’re his and now it’s time to make him yours.

One last powerful thrust sends Toji over the edge. His knot swells inside of you, sealing you both together, as his hot seed paints your walls. He sighs, heavy and satisfied as he continues to gently rock into you.

The haze of your mind is beginning to clear. Your body slowly becomes heavier even as small shocks of pleasure continue to jolt through your system. You raise a trembling hand to the back of Toji’s head. Taking a fistful of his hair, you sharply yank his head to the side and bite down hard enough to pierce the gland on his neck.

Toji grunts. His body stiffens as he hides his face in the crook of your neck. You smooth a hand down his back as you lick away any remaining blood, and his body gradually relaxes until he’s pressing his full weight on top of you.

You huff, trying to shift to get a better chance at not suffocating. But when you pull away a little too quickly, you both hiss when there’s a harsh tug at where your connected.

“Sorry,” you apologize. Your hands are quick to soothe, helping Toji adjust his body so you’re both comfortable. “How do you feel?”

Toji still has his face hidden in your neck. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to.

Although the bonding isn’t as potent as it would be during your heat it doesn’t lessen the connection you’ve created with this man. You both cling to each other as you struggle to take it all in, anxious about how this decision is already changing you.

Instincts you’ve ignored until now are already clawing their way out of the deep pits of your subconscious. The urge to soothe, to nurture, to submit is nearly overpowering. It will completely consume you if you let it.

Toji’s large hand is splayed out across your rib cage, thumb caressing the curve of your breast. His mind races while his heart beats wildly as he clings to you. His actions aren’t lining up with who he’s been up to this point. He’s never been the type to attach himself to anyone or anything. Thankfully, you feel his building resolve to chip away at the unwanted bits of his new appetite as a bonded alpha.

You sigh, relieved you made the right choice, as you card your fingers through Toji’s hair until his breathing evens out and he’s fast asleep.

But you stay wide awake well into the early morning. How could you surrender to sleep with all your life’s new possibilities waiting for you to conceive of them?

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Dividers by @rookthornesartistry.

#catalog #wolves of tokyo #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro smut #abo #alpha!toji

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risuola · 16 days

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ENTRY #3 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU

The skies bear the stars, And the oceans – so full, Yet I realize, All I crave is blue.

cw: arranged marriage!au, slight misogyny — 0,9k words

a/n: you voted, I deliver - an entry that might seem slightly out of place, slightly not relevant but it's important to the story, it shows the slow development.

series masterlist

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

You sat on an armchair, somewhat tensed despite the comfort of your own home and the soft cushions below you. In front of you sat a man. An arrogant grin plastered onto his objectively handsome features that somehow made you cringe at the sight. His mouth moved, he was speaking, over and over again telling the same story from a different angle and throwing facts at you that didn’t quite make sense, no matter how many times they were replayed.

“It’s an offer,” he spoke again, his pearly white, perfectly straight teeth glimmered in the sharp sunlight that bounced off the glass in the frame containing your wedding picture. “There’s a prestige tied to it, a status much more influential than your current last name could ever provide. I understand Gojo Satoru’s high position in the world of sorcery, but realistically, it doesn’t benefit you the way it should.”

He was talking, confident and loud but you couldn’t help but find him slightly sociopathic. Severely narcissistic. His sharp brown eyes were piercing through you and you could tell that every spasm of his muscles was forced, creating a fake illusion of some twisted version of kindness and gentleness. He moved in a way to appear more approachable, more inviting. You were taking in his form, clad in traditional kimono and hakama bottoms, oddly contrasting with his bleached hair and pierced ears. Thing is, there was nothing inviting about him.

“My marriage is an arrangement made with the thought of the best interest for both mine and my husband’s clan.” Your words flew out of your mouth a little too rough and yet, it was the first time you put a heavy accent onto the word that described who Satoru was to you right now.

“Of course it was,” the man chuckled. Evil. “But you see, Satoru Gojo is an anomaly born for the first time in four hundred years. Probability of you bearing a child that would bring value to his, arguably extinct, clan is relatively low, if not zero. On the other hand, my technique is easily passed down in blood and strong as it is, even without considering the possible Ten Shadows awakening though I believe that the input of your cursed technique makes the chances that much higher.”

“Forgive me my bluntness, Zen’in, but my marriage is finalized and I don’t intend to–“

“You don’t understand, woman,” he snapped, harsh and rough and raised up to his feet a little too eagerly. Realizing that, he took a breath and walked towards the wooden dresser. His greedy hands snatched the picture framed in the constellation of intricate veins and leaves carved into the dark oak and his fingers run across the glass front. “There’s nothing better you can do, than marrying me, one and only rightful heir of the Zen’in clan. Me, Naoya Zen’in, a man above all those weaklings around. I’m a prodigy, a genius. I’m the stronges–“

“I dare to disagree,” you cut the reckless spurt of nonsense leaving his lips. “I do recognize your strength and the values you represent, but as I already told you. My marriage is finalized, I’m married to Satoru Gojo and, with all due respect, you’re not close to being the strongest.” You stood your ground, firmly and with confidence and as you approached the man, you gently took the picture from his hands. “And also, even if I were not tied to Satoru, I wouldn’t allow myself to ever cross paths with a buffoon such as you, Naoya.”

“Clearly, you don’t know your place, do you?” He groaned, lowly and animalistically and it was a split second before his long fingers dug into the fat of your cheeks as he grabbed you by the face. “You know where’s a place of a woman? Three steps behind her husband. On her knees, ready to serve. There’s no other purpose for you than to–“

“I’ll advise you to take your hands off my wife, Zen’in.” Another second and your husband was home, right next to you, appearing out of thin air. His large hand wrapped tightly around Naoya’s forearm and their eyes meeting in a challenge. Despite the ice-cold tension in the air, Gojo’s face was neutral, amused almost. The corner of his lips twitched, lifting up just slightly as his unwavering gaze slowly pierced a crack into the arrogant mask of the guest.

“We’re just talking,” he hissed through his teeth but allowed his fingers to relax, releasing your jaw.

“Actually, it seemed as if you were leaving already,” you added calmly and it didn’t take longer than two minutes until the doors closed and the blonde left, mumbling insults under his breath. You exhaled, deeply, allowing the tension to leave your body as you twisted the locks and it’s just at that moment when you realized how much relief and sense of safety your husband brought.

“Care to explain why was Naoya Zen’in in our house when I was out? I don’t remember that visit being scheduled.” Satoru questioned and you let out a sigh, approaching him. With gentle hands you reached up to where the blindfold hung loosely around his neck and carefully pulled it up to cover the blue of his eyes.

“I’d love to know more than you do, but I don’t,” you replied. “He came uninvited, offered me marriage and didn’t take rejection too well.”

“Offered you marriage?” He scoffed. “The audacity.”

“Doesn’t matter. I said no and he left. Thank you for showing up.”

“I’m fulfilling my duties. That’s all.”

“Of course, you are.”

taglist: @kinny-away, @anan-baban, @lotomber, @netflix-imagines, @kawliflo, @nishloves, @ghostfacefricker6969, @thejujvtsupost, @yozora7154, @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost

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bakugoushotwife · 7 months

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kinktober day sixteen: femdom kink

>>> listen my toxic trait is writing a five thousand word naoya fic and using it as textual evidence that i could fix him! also pretty sure this is my first time writing dom reader and it is for the most peggable man alive. this is for the sick and depraved bitches like me <3

>>> starring: naoya zen'in x curvy!f!DOM!reader >>> cw: femdom obviously, misogyny, degradation, coercion, bondage, pegging, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, gojo is hilarious, this cures naoya! >>> wc: 5.1k >>> event masterlist

he watches you for a while. he had heard about you, and was naturally disgusted and in denial. you weren’t even from a big clan, and you’re a woman—there’s no way you were as powerful as they say. you were even on his father’s radar, he’s overheard many conversations about your promotion to special grade and how it was done much too late. you even had his father fooled. what was so hard to understand? women had no place in jujutsu sorcery. women are good for reproducing heirs–having a powerful technique only helps in that effort. in his clan, their women stay home and take care of the children and their husbands like they’re supposed to, and that’s why there wasn’t any impressive females in the work. until you came along, second only to satoru gojo, or so they say. he just had to see for himself what all the fuss was about.

naoya leaves the zen’in compound to take a brief break from the hei. your name comes to mind, and he seethes with rage at his brain’s reminder of your heralding. how had you risen so far without a humbling? he planned to fight you himself and put you in your place since no one else was willing to do it. he knew you kept close to gojo based off of your mission reports and the way people spoke about you two. everyone assumed you would marry him someday, but naoya was also looking for a bride. perhaps he could show you his power and prove your uselessness simultaneously, if you were pretty enough. that may not even matter if satoru gojo likes you. he would do anything to knock him down a peg too, and taking his preferred spouse would be a great start.

finding you was easy enough, as he thought it would be. you continued to field missions on your own, but if you were in between them, you were helping out around tokyo’s sorcerer school. he watches you now, sparring with a student. he folds his arms over his chest and sits down on the steps furthest away from the scene. you move with grace and fluidity, outmaneuvering the male student you were fighting, and your grin was clear to see.

“kusakabe—quicker!” you chide, sweeping his feet out from under him suddenly, pointing your bo staff under his chin. the first year boy chuckles beneath you and shakes his head.

“damn sensei–i’m learning, take it easy!” he huffs, getting to his feet.

“this is me taking it easy—i’m not even using my technique, kid.” you sigh and roll your eyes, stabbing your staff into the ground next to you. “get outta my sight. next?” the other two first years shake their head, having seen enough for one day. “no takers? go find gojo.” you jut your chin in dismissal, watching the group as they trickle inside the school.

naoya waits until they’re gone. you feel his energy as he comes closer, but you pretend not to. what could naoya zen’in possibly be at jujutsu tech for? you’ve heard plenty about him, and none of it has been good. you imagine this had something to do with his one sided tension with gojo, and that idea humored you enough to ignore his presence in hopes he aggravated your friend some more. but he calls your name instead, and you hesitantly turn to face him.

he smirks with shallow satisfaction upon further inspection of you. yes, it is easy to see why gojo must be fond of you. you have a pretty face, doe-like eyes and full cheeks, soft cheekbones and jaw, full lips and long eyelashes. yes, you are very beautiful in just your face alone, but he does note the hourglass shape of your figure. your full chest is restrained by that ugly school uniform you wear, but it can’t hide it. your hips are perfect for birthing heirs, and you are strong enough in foundation to handle several of them, he thinks.

“can i help you?” you arch your brow, cocking your hip out impatiently. he was busy drooling, and you wonder if naoya has ever seen a woman before. “would you like a picture?”

your voice brings him back to the matters at hand. he looks unamused, “unfortunately i’m not another one of your adoring fans.”

“really? could have fooled me. what do you need then?” you tease, tilting your head to the side in confusion. you don’t fool him though, he can hear that matronly tone to your voice. look at you, already trying to cater to his needs.

“i want to fight you. and then i want to marry you.” he states confidently, mirroring your tilted head out of amusement, though it’s you that starts laughing. his brows furrow in response.

“are you being serious?” you titter, covering your shocked mouth with your hand. “such an interesting proposal, traditionally men court their potential brides.” you tease him again, now poking at the nature of his clan. but you don’t say no, and that interests him more than the attitude he’ll quickly put into place.

“you’re far too boisterous for a woman. i’ll beat you, and then i’ll take you as my wife.” he explains simply, tucking his hands into the pockets of his robe. you’re entertained grin doesn’t falter, and he’s astounded by you. most women flounder and argue with him or they stick their noses in the air and just ignore him, but you…you were nodding.

“deal. and when i beat you, i’ll take you as my husband.” you smirk, knowing exactly how to put this over idealistic man in his place, which just so happened to be under your control.

“what?” he sneers, confusion evident. why on earth would you make the stakes the same even if you won?

you shrug a little and examine him the same way he looked over you. he was tall and handsome, a bit more muscle bound than gojo with feline features. having a zen’in would be nice too, you think, smiling to yourself. “you’re a sexy little thing, i wouldn’t mind making you my husband.” you shrug, securing your hair. he was no first-year kusakabe, you knew you’d need your technique on him.

he can feel heat sting at his face when you say that, having assumed he would need to try much harder to earn the fight and your agreement to marry him. you’re attracted to him already?

“you gonna fight or you gonna stand there and catch flies?” you hum, cursed technique active already. you know his, but he does not know yours. he snaps back into it, feeling weirdly competitive not only in showing off his power and the value he would have as a mate, but to beat your peacocking.

he huffs, rolling his eyes at you and jumping into action, clearly waiting on you to attack. you’ll bite, knowing he doesn’t understand the scope of your abilities. you throw your left hand out to release millions of threads. your cursed threads are so tiny they’re almost unnoticeable, and he thinks you’ve walked right into his trap. he uses his technique to phase out of your way, but not before you toss your right hand out and catch him in your webs. you smile, wrapping him up in the spider-like spins like an ant about to be eaten by the black widow.

“looks like this fight is over, husband!” you cheer, crediting your extensive knowledge on his technique as the winning edge. had the fight been more even, perhaps it would have lasted longer. he looks down at you with a mixture of shock, disgust and…arousal?

“when will we have the wedding?” you hum, tapping your chin in mock-thought. “i’m thinking the end of the month should give you plenty of time?” you grin, watching him squirm against your threads. you release your technique to spare him some pride. “assuming our deal is still on?”

he has to have your power for his children. as he’s said before, the sin of the insignificant is the ignorance of true strength, and while he may not be quick to accept his defeat, he’s able to move into the vein of the potential you would bring him as a spouse. you would never fight again, you would never need to, but truly he had never seen someone like you before—male or female. embarrassment settles over his features, and he’ll make it a point to control your mouthiness after this wedding.

“the end of the month will do. come to the estate by noon.” he looks over your cocky disposition and nearly seethes again, but the bigger picture is clear–so he has to put these feelings of confusion and shame aside for now, so he can reach his goals.

you chuckle fondly. “i’d like to be married here, i think. i was the winner, no?” your cunning smirk makes his eyes narrow as he agrees.

“fine.” he dismisses with an eye roll, leaving jujutsu tech’s school grounds with his mind a jumbled mess. you were everything he hates. a loud-mouthed woman who thinks she’s powerful enough to play with the big dogs. but… it seems you can. it isn’t all talk, you are extremely powerful…and you beat him. and he doesn’t hate that you did. in fact, watching you handle him without a sweat made him wonder if even toji would be able to handle you. what did that mean for him all of a sudden?

the wedding is lovely given the time constraints the planning was under, even though the guests in attendance are very confused and unapproving. kusakabe even approaches to make sure gojo didn’t dare you to do this. the zen’in clan comes in limited numbers, though they seem pleased with his ‘choice’ in bride. satoru walks you down the aisle—something he begged to do simply for the pleasure of putting your hand in naoya’s and leaning in to his ear to whisper.

“good luck. you asked for this, remember that.” he chuckles, clapping him on his back before returning to his seat. naoya thinks about his words for the rest of the ceremony, even when he gets distracted by your perky chest and bright smile. he wonders just what he’s in for as you drag him along with you, his pride commanding him to straighten up and get it together as he makes it a point to match your pace. you chuckle at his neediness, and that won’t be the last time you do so.

“so husband. did you enjoy your wedding?” you ask, walking him towards your residence only a mile or so away. he chuffs at your eagerness, the conflicting feelings in his gut telling him to be as petty as possible. he turns his head to the side and shrugs.

“it was a wedding.” he says in non-answer, very immersed in the details of the trees all of a sudden. you hum, still holding his hand firmly.

“aw, don’t be shy now, it’s just us!” you cheer, veering down a path that would take you towards your house. “personally, i enjoyed it. you look very handsome.” you practically coo, and his heart jumps at your tone. god this was insufferable. but he loves it.

“it was..nice. zen’in’s would have done it bigger.”

“and did you want it to be bigger?” you respond, and the sincerity in your question makes him wonder what he does actually want and like. he has always had everything except a connection, and maybe that was his own doing, a product of his environment—but still. you made him think. and after a few precious moments of silence reflecting on it, he doesn’t think he would have liked the ceremony his clan typically performs, nor everyone being there. he doesn’t much care for any one of them at all, so why would he have them at his wedding?

“actually. no.” he squares his shoulders and straightens his back, seeing a humble little house come into view. “is this..?”

“my house. welcome home.” you smile and push the door open for him. he furrows his brows and cocks his jaw in confusion. “what? you’re my house husband now. close your mouth, sweetheart.” you hum, leaning over and physically shutting his mouth for him.

“house husband?!” he erupts, his face turning bright red as you drag him into the house. why doesn’t he just fight you back, stop you? is it because he knows he can’t win? that realization alone makes him yank his hand out of your grip and stop in his tracks. you bat your eyes at him expectantly, knowing you had a little brat on your hands.

“mhm,” you nod, a little grin tugging at your lips. you step closer, balancing your arms on his shoulders and playing with your fingers where they connect. “i made you my husband, silly boy. so i’ll keep running missions and you’ll shut up and do what i tell you to.” you tilt your head to one side, admiring the surprise and rage glimmering in his sharp brown eyes. “doesn’t that sound good?”

you bring your hands back to his slender shoulders, trailing the touch to his pecs. he opens his mouth to speak, absolutely stunned. never in his entire life had anyone, male or female, ever spoken to him with such brazenness. his cheeks warm with color. no way he was enjoying this. is this what it felt like to be…submissive? his eyes narrow at you in the confusion, but he only sees that same angelic face and divine body, and he doesn’t think he can argue with the notion that obeying you might have its upsides.

“and right now, i want you to follow me. time for the house tour!” you clap enthusiastically and tilt your head for him to follow you. he does, until he notices you’ve stopped by the bathroom. you lean against the doorway and gesture to the room. “the bathroom of course. you’ll clean this on mondays, should be pretty clean already. i have good hygiene.”

his eyes widened a little bit once more. you were deadly serious, meaning for him to clean the house while you continued your job as a sorcerer. you move onto the kitchen with a smug grin. his feet move a little more reluctantly this time. you open the cabinet with all the cleaning supplies. “the kitchen should really stay clean. i’ll help you learn—i’m not heartless.” you chuckle to yourself as he folds his arms across his chest.

you’re worse than heartless. you have to be the devil herself with all of this. you’re a siren at the least, so beautiful he really hadn’t processed all you were demanding of him until now, and he huffs and rolls his eyes at your remark. you smile sweetly still, unphased.

“you just need a little time to get used to it, is all.” you hum, walking off towards your bedroom. you flip the lights on and make for your bed. he watches you take a seat, the short kimono you wore riding up your delicious thighs at the action. he was losing the plot, he just needed to take control. all women are submissive in the bedroom. “this of course is my room. if you’re a good boy you’ll get to sleep in here with me.” you titter, scrunching your nose at your own humor.

“you forget yourself, woman. i’ll be the head of the zen’in clan in just a few years.” he scoffs, looking over your seductive positioning with a nod of approval. he enjoyed your attitude, he thinks, he’s sure it will make your sweet cries of his name that much more memorable.

“the only one forgetting their place is you, husband.” you cross your arms over your chest, that arrogant smile still mocking him. “you can still be their little head as long as you keep my house clean and my bed warm.”

oh that does it. you’re so patronizing, so demeaning—he stomps over to you, reaching to grab your face. you allow it for entertainment’s sake, looking up at him with big doe-eyes that almost made him forget why he was angry in the first place. but that smirk reappears, and he squeezes your face in frustration. “i’m not cleaning shit. you’re my bitch. you should be honored to be my wife. take your clothes off and shut your mouth.” he releases his hold, waiting for you to obey.

and to his amazement, you do. you stand up and remove your kimono, watching him the entire time. the fabric falls to the floor and naoya is drowning in your curves and the lusty look in your eyes. you smile at his reaction, eyes trailing to his still-clothed form. even in his haze he understands you, pushing his robes off and wrestling with the string holding his hakama in place. all the blood rushes to his cock as he processes that it worked—you were just giving him a hard time after all, and he’d get his way as always.

as soon as he’s fully naked, your threads are tied around him again. his eyes widen at the sight of your silvery silken yarns circling his waist and pulling him to the bed. you stand, moving out of your own way as you smile sickeningly at him.

“wh—what are you doing?” he blinks rapidly, unable to break free of the strong web you were spinning him into. you position him on his back, legs strapped to the mattress and hands tied together above his head.

“what’s it look like, husband?” you ask innocently, crawling over him like a lioness stalking her prey. he can see the real devious desire in your eyes now, and he gulps. he should have known you wouldn’t give in that easily. “you look so much better like this, you know.” you hum, extending a hand to finger-walk over his abs. the slight touch makes him jump and his cheeks warm.

“you’re evil.” he hisses, fighting his restraints if for no other reason than to not focus on your soft fingers brushing against his skin. you giggle at him.

“hardly, babe.” you chuckle, admiring the slight panic and deep arousal in his eyes. “pretend you hate it all you want. i see through you.” you lick your teeth, grinning at his proud length standing tall before you. “your mouth ruins everything though.” you sigh, ghosting your fingernails over his thighs. the touch makes his cock jump this time.

“what does that even mean?” he huffs, annoyed at how his body responds to your taunting.

“means you’re sexy, strong, and have a huge dick.” you deadpan, eyeing the good seven inches he presents you, curved and pretty with a cute pink tip. “but your loud, arrogant, disrespectful mouth ruins it.” you further, fingertips dancing along the insides of his thighs. it’s annoying—just enough to stir butterflies in his stomach but not even close to providing pleasure. your hands are so close to his dick, you could just wrap your hand around him and make everything better. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, too focused on your teasing to hear your words. you trace his hip bones, humming a little. it tickles in the way that he wants more, so he grunts his dissatisfaction.

you take your hands off him completely, looking at him with a raised brow. he huffs, almost pouting as he looks at you.

“what are you doing now?” he groans, yanking at his ties in an effort to get you to touch him again. it’s pathetic. you haven’t even really done anything, but his dick already hurts.

“don’t complain or you won’t get touched at all, kay? you better learn how to put this pride away or you’ll stay wanting.” you threaten, and he knows from your track record that you’re all too serious. he opens his mouth to protest, but you touch him again and he snaps his jaw shut. now your fingers target his chest, feather-light strokes over his nipples or light scratches across his pecs as he’s left helpless, only able to watch your naked body torture his from between his legs. he didn’t know he was so sensitive, but as your touches grow heavier, his eyes fall shut from the pleasure of his stinging chest.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his leaking slit. it’s starting to drool down his shaft, and you’re giddy from the high, thighs rubbing together at the sight of him unraveling. he’s trying to repress ragged breaths and pathetic moans, but your pinching and tweaking his nipples had him fighting every wave of enjoyment. he can’t help the raspy groan he lets out when you lean over to kiss him.

it was too short. you sit right back up as soon as he sounds off, and his brow furrows again. “already told you, baby.” you tsk. “gotta get a handle on that mouth if you wanna get fucked tonight.” you hum, picking your words carefully.

he nods, straightening up against the headboard as much as possible. he doesn’t care, your touch is driving him crazy. he needs relief, and at this point he would do anything to cum. “would you like that? for me to fuck you?” you ask, hands back to squeezing his biceps and shoulders.

he nods drunkenly again, frowning as he feels you shift away from him. his head snaps over to watch you once he hears the sound of shuffling in your bedside table, mouth gaping as he sees you pull out a glittery pink dildo attached to a black strap. he nearly chokes. you giggle.

“what, change your mind all a sudden?” he nods rapidly, focused on the size of it, not quite as long as his actual dick but considerably thicker. you tsk again and pilfer for the lube. “i thought you wanted to cum?”

“i do!” he says with haste. “you just can’t use that on—”

“mkay.” you sigh, sitting back in your spot with the materials beside you. “i’ll ask again in ten minutes.”

his face contorts at your nonchalance, but once again you keep him from back talking. your slender hand closes around his shaft and his breath is ripped from his chest. luckily, you don’t take that as a sound large enough to stop, your grip sending electricity through his body. his pre leaks onto your hand as you pump him, so you collect it with a few of your other fingers. he watches with parted lips and red cheeks, heart dropping when he realizes you were moving toward his ass.

you rub your fingers around the puckered hole, slathering the surface with all the precum naoya had produced from your endless teasing. while your other hand slowly strokes his cock, your other experiments lower, a finger slipping into the tight ring. he whimpers at the feeling, tightening around your digit as you lock eyes. you grin, nodding encouragement. you didn’t want to be too nice—he didn’t deserve it, but it was better than starting from scratch if he started bitching.

your pumps match the pace around his cock and he slowly loosens up for you. you stay focused, giving him another finger and milking the pre from his cock with the tight grip your hand had on him. his lip is nearly bleeding from how hard he bites into it, and you giggle.

“just tell me when you’re ready for the strap, baby boy.” you hum, eyes a little frenzied from the state he was in. it was all too exciting to be the one to humble naoya zen’in, but you were growing a bit needy at the same time. “it’ll feel so good. you know that’s where your g spot is? bet you didn’t. you zen’in boys are always so uptight.”

he blinks harshly, only mild protests even coming to mind as the hot sweat of need coats his body. he has to have more. your fingers already felt unreasonably good…but if what you said is true, he supposes there is a reason. his chest heaves as he argues with himself, feeling you shove a third finger in him convinces him to nod vigorously.

“yes what, husband? i need words, i’m just a dumb bitch.” you snicker, lightly flicking his balls and giggling when he jumps. he grunts again, feline eyes sliding over to the toy on the bed. “g-go ahead..”

you shake your head, withdrawing all touch. he feels so empty and frustrated he could cry. “better words. don’t you wanna cum?”

“in you.” he replies, and you hum with a pleased little smile.

“that can be arranged if you can learn how to beg like a good boy.” you squeeze his thigh, the only link he has to your warm hands that only make him dizzy for more. he narrows his eyes, knowing that you’re only punishing him for his treatment of you, but he hates how much he loves it. he hates how easy all the words you want to hear come to mind, but also he doesn’t at all. he’s insane with need and would jump off of a bridge if you told him to right now.

“god, just fuck me already–please.” his voice shakes out before his eyes clench shut so he doesn’t have to see you laugh, but to his surprise, you growl a little bit. he opens his eyes, finding you adjusting the strap to fit your wide hips hastily. you fumble around with the lube, trying to see what he would look like taking you. you liked what he said, and he wanted to hear you make your own noises, so he keeps going. “you’re stupid gorgeous, the only person i’d ever let do this–”

you can’t deny the ego boost that gives you as you direct the tip towards his hole. “it’s cold, i know. you’ll get used to it princess.” you giggle, shoving the tip in and pausing to let him adjust. “i’m so nice—could just give you all of it at once and tear this pretty ass up.”

he tenses every muscle in his body, the foreign object stretching him open burned and stung, but the ball of heat in his stomach only grew as your hips gently rolled to ease more in and start a pace. he gradually relaxes, sounds of pleasure rolling out of his pouty lips. thankfully, you don’t stop. you brace your hands on his abs and watch his face screw up in enjoyment.

“see? i told you that you’d like it.” you grunt, voice wavering from the force you’re using to plow into him. “cute little house husband, i think it’s what you were made for, baby.” you snicker, huffing at the way the fabric of the belt you’re wearing rubs up against your unattended clit.

he can only offer a nod as a reply, this was like nothing he had ever experienced, mouth dropped and eyes blissfully closed. his cock still aches from the lack of attention, but it almost adds to the delight of your hips smacking his. you release the threads around his legs, shoving them to his chest and giggling at the esteemed naoya zen’in, your husband, beneath you in a mating press taking your glittery pink cock. he whimpers at the new angle, so deep he’s writhing against the sheets.

it’s a gorgeous sound, his deep-but-posh voice reduced to breathy whimpers and moans, leaky cock making a mess out of both of you. “don’t get too boisterous, little bitch.” he moans louder, either from your nasty words or to defy you, and either way you drop his legs and slide out of his ass. he’s whimpering at the loss until he feels you grab his cock. his eyes fly open to watch you hover over him, plunging onto his length once you get the angle just right. his dick jumps immediately, your cunt too warm, wet, and tight for him to handle after all your bullying. he shudders and shakes his head.

“what? embarrassed?” you say with a little whine to your commanding voice, adjusting to his impressive size sitting against your womb. you’re panting already, mostly from all your hard work—but the need to cum is fogging your brain too. you drop all the threads around his wrists except one, directing the hand to your swollen nerve bundle before you trap the other hand again. “then rub my pussy and make me cum with you.”

you pick your ass up and drop down again, taking him so nice and deep each time he doesn’t even try to muffle the grunts and groans flowing from him. he follows your order, thumbing at your clit as you abuse his cock, waiting to feel the flutter of your pussy to tell him to bust. “don’t even think about it, bitch.”

he chokes a bit, looking up at your knowing face. “can feel ya twitching. you’ll cum when i tell you to.” he nods, rubbing at you fervently. you are the goddess he thought you were, but you’re also the devil in disguise, and he’s so in love it's ridiculous, demeaning, and everything he deserves for never realizing the power that a woman could have over him—or period.

“there we go, there’s hope for you after all.” you hum at his obedience, feeling the tension building in your cunt. he watches you closely, his face still overcome with satisfaction and bi-colored hair messily strewn about his forehead. he fills you up so nicely, and his complete surrender does more to you than his dick. “go ahead and fill me up, my good boy. see if i can give you an heir.” you chortle, abusing his desires for your own twisted game. he can’t live with that, the idea of impregnating you means more than before. he knows it’s the highest compliment he’ll get, and it’s because he knows your allowance means everything. he’s spurting before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t mind, following over the edge seconds later. he’s so pretty when he finishes, whimpering loud and watching your face for approval. your lips are parted and your eyes closed, but you nod anyway. you must feel him looking. you open your eyes and smile softly, swinging your leg off of him and leaving him tied up while you get yourself all cleaned up. he’s mush, thoughts and heart racing as he waits patiently for you to come back with a warm towel to clean him up and release your webs. so unlike him, but he’s hardly angry—he’s wondering what you want him to clean tomorrow.

#jjk x reader #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #jjk smut #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut

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kentoberry · 2 years

Text

MON CHERI. — toji fushiguro.

ABOUT: toji knows the horrors of the zen'in clan, and offers something a little more than comfort to naoya's wife.

NOTES: naoya is in his early 20s and toji is in his late 20s. set before toji leaves the clan. i wrote a lot of this while spaced out on pain meds so... yeah LOL

CWS: sub fem reader, some canon divergence, cheating, arranged marriage, toxic relationships, breeding, dubcon, impregnation, controlling behaviour (from naoya), hymen breaking, implied v*rginity loss, p*ssy inspection, misogyny, car s*x, fingering, thigh riding, overuse of pet names, slight hand f3tish, spit, choking mention, dirty talk.

well, that’s one way to get back at the zen’in clan.

you’d been betrothed to naoya zen’in before you could even pronounce the word “engagement”, as the elders from your respective clans thought that it would be beneficial in a political sense. you were raised to understand that this was how things must be, and that there was no backing out. it wasn’t until your wedding day that you finally met naoya, having spent your days as a little girl dreaming that as you walked down the aisle, you’d be taking steps towards your prince charming. oh, how wrong you were.

naoya was an absolute asshole from the very beginning. he even instructed the officiant at your wedding to “get this over with” as soon as possible, and barely even made eye contact with you throughout the ceremony. your heart shattered into a billion tiny pieces, but you grinned and beared it. you knew that there was a chance that you’d be stuck in a loveless marriage, and that was now your reality.

the first night that you spent together, your new husband’s first question to you was regarding your abilities to bear a child. not whether or not you wanted one, but rather when you would be able to get pregnant. he wanted to secure an heir, which would thus secure his position in the clan. naoya truly didn’t care about you, his only goal was to breed a baby into your fertile cunt.

hell, he even poked and prodded at your pussy, satisfied only when you winced and a small trail of blood followed. the man hadn’t truly believed that you were a virgin, all modern women were cockhungry whores to him, so he resorted to inspecting your hymen himself. in naoya’s eyes, your body now belonged to him.

fast forward to your six month anniversary. you barely left the estate. naoya ensured that you be stuffed and bred full of his semen every night, the filthiest of names slipping past his lips as he degraded you and berated you for the fact that you weren’t yet carrying his child. you were nothing more than the man’s cumdump, following his every rule down to the detail. at events, he paraded you around as the perfect piece of arm candy, giving every attendee the impression that you were a happily married pair.

it was at one of these events that you’d been introduced to naoya’s cousin, who looked as though he didn’t want to be there anymore than you did. he introduced himself as toji, and wasted no time in talking shit about the clan that you had unknowingly married into. if naoya had cared enough to pay attention to you, he would have dragged you away from the other man. but he didn’t. instead, you spent majority of the evening listening to toji’s stories, promising him that you would do everything in your power to ensure a brighter future for the zen’in clan.

“but ya don’t have any power in y’r relationship, do ya, princess?”

you looked down to mask the heat that spread across your cheeks, such pet names feeling foreign to you. toji knew that he was right, and continued chatting away as he nursed his glass of alcohol.

“naoya’s always been a real piece of work. never fuckin’ treated a woman right in his life. always screamin’ at his maids to do everything for him, firing them if they made the slightest fuck-up. always felt sorry for the poor lass that would end up with ‘im. doubt he’s ever even made ya cum.”

the man took a moment to evaluate your expression, which only confirmed his prior assumption. he took pity on you, really. the rough spoken man knew the atrocities that the zen’ins were capable of, and the scar along his lip was evidence of such. feeling sorry, he resorted to what he knew best, hollering at the bartender for two more drinks, one for each of you.

“i, umm, i can’t drink,” you mumbled.

“don’t tell me he dictates what ya put in your body, darlin’. . .”

“no! no!” your voice was apologetic, as though you’d said something that you shouldn’t have. “it’s not like that; alcohol just isn’t good when you’re trying to conceive…”

toji scoffed. “you want to get knocked up by that man? you insane, princess?”

you sighed in defeat. “he wants a baby, so i need to have one. it’s what i’m supposed to do.”

your face depicted a sight that he knew all to well. toji put an arm over your shoulders slowly so as not to make you jump. he saw the tears that you worked to conceal, hand slowly rubbing your arm in attempt to soothe you.

“let’s get out of here. tell the cunt that you aren’t feeling too well; makes sense to be if he’s tryna put a kid in ya. i’ll take you home, maybe drive around a little if ya want. y’r a sweetheart, don’t let him ruin it, okay?”

you simply nodded, feeling strange that a zen’in was giving you a choice.

“i’ll go grab my jacket, and meet ya by the door. is that alright with you?”

again, you nodded. you smoothed out your outfit, once again putting on a brave face and seeking out your husband. it didn’t take too long to spot the blonde, pushing your way through seas of people to reach him. you kept your hand situated on your lower stomach, hoping that it helped to sell your fake story.

upon approaching him, you called his name though to no avail. it took tugging on his sleeve to finally gain his attention, which resulted in him turning to you with a disdainful expression. “what?” he queried coldly.

you began muttering about how you weren’t feeling too well and were needing to head home, but were cut off by him-

“speak up, woman. you’re wasting my time.”

you did just that, leaning closer to him so that he could hear you better.

“whatever.”

despite being used to naoya’s lack of human emotion, it still hurt. as though your wedding day was a knife being plunged into your stomach, and each insult was your husband twisting the weapon. there was no ‘stay safe, honey!’ or concern regarding how you were getting back to your room, he just liked that he controlled you enough that you felt the desire to inform him of your every move.

you kept your head low as you went to reunite with toji, who leant against the venue’s door frame, fiddling with the keys to his car in hand. mustering up a tiny smile, you greeted your knight in shining armour and headed out with him.

toji was quick to open the passenger side door of his vintage mustang, allowing you to get in with ease. such a simple act of chivalry made your heart flutter in a way that you knew it shouldn’t. the little girl who’d been suppressed inside of you for so long suddenly sprung back to life, making you feel like the raven haired man was your prince charming helping you into your bespoke carriage. you almost felt giddy, a feeling that grew overwhelming to the point that tears began to gather along your waterline.

in the meantime, toji had started the car’s engine and was ready to pull out of the parking lot of empty cars. he checked on his fuel gauge before looking over to you.

his drawled “everything alright, darlin’?” was the straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back. you began spilling your guts to the borderline stranger, detailing how unhappy your marriage to naoya made you and all of the shit that he put you through.

toji turned off the car, pulling your weeping form into his chest as he hushed you. he was a man of few words in that moment, instead doing his best to provide the comfort to you that had been absent during his own experiences with the harshness of the zen’in clan.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, “it’s not your fault.”

you could have sworn the man was struggling to hold back his own tears as you finally looked up at him, though before you could fully discern his emotions, he placed a tender kiss to your forehead, mumbling that you didn’t deserve to be put through such trials and tribulations. you seemed a sweet soul.

the kiss, albeit innocent, flustered you. it was laced with a gentleness that you had never experienced. naoya was the only man that you had ever been intimate with, and he’d been the furthest from benevolent that one could be. it made you forget the ring on your left hand, instinctively tilting your chin up and pulling toji in for another kiss.

he hadn’t expected to feel your lips against his own. the smell of your expensive perfume overwhelmed him, feeling intoxicated by your touch. he wasted no time in deepening the kiss, grabbing your hips and encouraging you to straddle him in the driver’s seat.

upon pulling away for a brief moment to catch his breath, toji informed you of the tinted windows, promising that nobody would see whatever you both found yourselves getting up to.

with hair and makeup a mess, you found yourself grinding against his thigh in an attempt for some friction. the way that the hem of your dress had splayed over toji's lap meant that your cunt bordered on bare because of the sheer black lace that naoya ordered you wear. the material covering your slit was thin, the perfect opportunity for your husband to tear in two when he got impatient with the preparations required before fucking you.

there was an obvious wet patch soaking its way through the fabric, something that toji noticed after swiping two fingers against your clothed pussy.

"she's already drippin', doll," he growled, voice having dropped another octave. he slipped your panties aside, traipsing his digits along your dampened folds. afterwards, he placed his slick coated fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you on his hand. "shit, darlin', y'r fuckin' heavenly."

before you could even make a sound, toji pulled you in for another kiss. you could taste the faint remnants of your arousal on his taste buds, making a move to pull back that would have been successful if not for his hand pressing against the back of your head, keeping you in place.

“sweetheart,” he grumbled, hot breath fanning the sensitive skin at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “sure about this?”

you were quick to utter the affirmative, shortly followed by whimpering at the loss of contact as toji lifted you back into the passenger’s seat. he chuckled at the reaction, feeling lucky to have elicited such a reaction from you. switching the engine back on, the man began speeding out of the lot.

you were certain that you couldn’t wait a moment longer. perhaps it was the idea of doing something so taboo mixed with the anticipation that being with toji had already generated. your hand slipped underneath your dress, hiking the material up your thighs as you caressed the tender skin. your breath caught in your throat as your fingers ghosted over your clothed clit, whining at the sensation.

“can’t even wait f’me, princess?” toji smirked. instead of chiding you for such brattiness, he chose to indulge you, even moving his hand from the gearstick to peel away your underwear.

you could have sworn you heard him moan at the sight of your glistening cunt, not even caring that your arousal seeped onto his fine leather upholstery. all whilst keeping his composure with driving, he slipped a finger into your weeping folds and began to fuck you. in response, you simply gripped his arm. he took it as a sign that you were enjoying this, deciding upon adding another digit to your hole. with ease, he located the rough spot that made your toes curl, massaging circles into it as he began to stretch your pretty cunt open. with the way that you were practically creaming on his hand, he could truly tell how your husband had been neglecting your needs and desires.

as toji came into contact with a red light, he took a moment to halt the car and immediately provided you with his undivided attention. his first action was to roughly spit onto your pussy, using his thumb to spread his saliva and make a mess of your cunt. as possessive as it may seem, he wanted to taint your body in all the lewd ways that he could think of. you deserved to be his princess, not naoya’s pathetic little cumdump.

“play with y’r clit, doll,” he instructed, and you did just that. nay, you went above and beyond his instructions. you released his arm and began groping at your tits, allowing for them to spill over the neckline of your dress for better access. you played with your stiffening nipples, tweaking and tugging as your other hand made a beeline for your swollen clit, the pads of your fingers becoming coated in the concoction of your slick and toji’s spit.

toji briefly palmed the growing bulge in his pants before placing his hand back on the steering wheel. when he had to remove his hand from your cunt in order to shift gears, you considered teasing him about not driving something automatic in this day and age but were instead distracted by how fucking attractive his veiny hand looked wrapped around the piece of machinery. it only turned you on even more when you saw the shimmering of your arousal still coating his middle and ring finger. you couldn’t help but wonder how his hand would feel wrapped around your throat.

when he could spare a hand once again, toji’s fingers plunged back into your hole. due to the fact that you’d been brutally toying with your clit whilst indulging in such salacious ideas of the man, he could feel your walls flutter around him, indicating that you were likely close to an orgasm.

toji didn’t alter the speed of his movements, instead he resorted to using his words to attempt to tip you over the edge.

“‘s it, gonna cum all over my car, pretty thing? can’t even wait f’r my cock? bet you’re thinkin’ about me, aren’t ya, darlin’? want me to ruin ya, fuck ya like you wish that no good piece of shit you call a husband can’t. when we get home, i don’t think i’ll be satisfied ‘til i’ve destroyed that pretty little pussy on every fuckin’ surface i got. you’d like that, wouldn’t ya? cunt feels so good, can’t wait until my fat cock is buried deep in her, stretching the poor girl out until she’s creamin’ f’me.”

his words went straight to your core, though it was one final sentence that really tipped you over the edge.

“maybe i’ll do what he never could ‘nd put a baby in ya, princess,”

#🍑 ૮ • ﻌ • ა #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in x reader #naoya smut #naoya zenin smut #tojisluvrposts

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jason-is-a-real-mood · 4 months

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👉 Naoya being animated today

👉 The very few crumbs of feminism, dignity, self respect, self love, values, education, human rights, critical thinking, self preservation skills and principles (left in me after sukuna sexy slaughter and gojo «step on my face sugar daddy» satoru) leaving my body :

Please make his voice HOT 😭 so when he talks shit he talks sexy shit

Update : He wasn’t animated so I get to keep my shred of dignity till next summer thank you

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk satoru #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #satoru gojo #gojou satoru #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in x reader #naoya zen’in #anime #step on me

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dumbkiri · 3 months

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𝐎𝐡, 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴏɴᴇ: ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜɴ ʀɪꜱᴇꜱ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ

Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

In order to be a gentle lady of a house, you need to be a woman of patience and tolerance. Control your emotions and do not let your words slip from your mouth so easily. Sit across your prospects with regal dignity and speak when spoken to.

Your mother and grandmother were no longer on this earth to guide you or to make a decision for you. So what do you do when you sit across from a man who so desperately wanted your hand, but you wanted nothing to do with him?

“We hope to hear an answer from you today, Ms. [L.Name].”

You slowly opened your eyes and hummed in thought. The chai mixed with coconut milk swirled around with the small spoon being its cause. Your hand stopped moving and you tapped the white spoon on the rim of the tea cup.

Could it be possible to decline one of the strongest families in Jujutsu society? You always pondered this question and your good friends, Shoko and Satoru, have told you many times that yes, you definitely can do that. You cleared your throat and set the spoon down on your small plate decorated with sweets.

“I thank you for your patience, Naobito-sama and Naoya-san. Yet I have trouble with making a decision that decides my future. As you both know, I inherited the blessed technique from my mother and it is considered, well, a blessing, to hold such a power.”

But they do not know that blessed energy erases all signs of cursed energy. You could never give the strong heirs they wanted to the Zen’in Family because your children will grow up to harness blessed energy, not cursed. You know for a fact that Naoya would beat you for keeping such a secret from him.

“I have to speak with all my prospects before I come up with any decision. Remember this meeting is to cement the choosing ceremony. We work out our deals here and now then when or if I choose your gift,” You gestured to Naoya with a smile on your clear face, “Our deal is made with one another. May we continue with the terms?”

Naobito sighed while his son was growing angered by the second you ignored the bribe they tried to get you to take. You wanted things to be fair, so you didn’t care for the gift that Naobito told you that Naoya would put in the choosing ceremony. Then you insisted that he choose a new gift or else you would blatantly refuse it once the day comes.

“Yes, we shall proceed. What we want most is strong heirs,”

You held back the roll of your eyes behind your light purple veil. It was made of the most intricate lace and you did not want them to catch any signs of your annoyance. It fit well with the white shawl that connected with the light purple kimono.

“Children with your blessed energy will give a new power to the Zen’in Family. With that being said, any and all heirs that you produce will be well taken care of.”

You took the cup in your hand and indulged in a sip of the cool drink. Then you set it back with a soft clink and replied back,

“Even if they are born females?”

You knew exactly what you were implying when you asked this question. You saw how badly the twins, Maki and Mai, were treated. And you hated every second you spent at the Zen’in’s seeing this harsh treatment. They were just little girls back then and they should be treated with the same respect.

“If they are girls,” Naobito put his hand under his chin and murmured to himself. Then he put his hand down and said, “I expect Naoya and you to produce a male first.”

Your shoulder shook from your giggles and you lifted your veil a bit to glare at Naobito, “You know as well as I do that we are not in control of that. If you cannot ensure my future daughters' well beings then there should be no further discussion, Naobito-sama.”

You shifted to the left and picked up a brass bell at the corner of the table. Before you could ring it, a hand had clamped down on your wrist and your eyes followed up the trail of the traditional kimono.

Naoya was glaring at you with a scowl on his face like he was trying to formulate his sentence to the best of his ability. Then his lips parted to say,

“I know that no matter what, you will produce a male first. You’re a strong woman and you hold a powerful energy that only female members can attain. When our son is born, he will not possess the blessed energy, but my cursed technique or a variation of it. Our daughter will inherit that ability to control blessed energy and if she comes to existence, she will be treated like her brother. You have my word.”

To put trust in his word would be like feeding yourself to the wolves. Nonetheless, you took your hand back and nodded your head to the deal, “I understand, Naoya-san. I will see you at the choosing ceremony.”

You rang the bell and your faithful servant, Tadashi, slid the door behind you open to allow the Zen’in’s to leave your home. Naobito and Naoya walked out while you held your head down as they passed by. Another servant guided them out of your home while Tadashi bowed his head before walking in the room.

You lifted up your veil and looked up at Tadashi who gave you a sympathetic look.

“Lady [Name], our grandfather would beat me with a stick seeing an expression like that on your face. He would scold me for not doing my job.”

This caused you to wipe the look and replace it with a tired smile, “Oh, Tadashi, what’s that saying our grandparents used to say to us when they caught us fighting? We would be at each other’s throats, do you remember that?”

Tadashi laughed with his chest and he kneeled down at your side, “I would like to forget those memories. Anyways, they told us, ‘There is always trouble in the night, but the sun rises every morning’.”

You rubbed your cheeks with the tip of your fingers and said, “Tadashi, whoever I go to, will you follow me? You’re the only family I have left and I cannot imagine myself surviving all alone.”

“Now we both know grandfather would rise from the grave if I do not follow you. Of course, anywhere you go, no matter how far, I will be right behind you.” Tadashi promised and he stood up to his full height. He walked out of the room and told you that there was one more prospect that would like to speak to you.

You cleared your throat and put your veil back down to cover the upper half of your face. Your eyes were hooded and you fixed your position. With a shaky hand, you rang the bell and waited for the man that would be making a deal with you.

“Ow, Maki, did you really have to bring a weapon with you?”

“Of course!”

“Did you see the way they glared at her? I would have brought a weapon too!”

“Salmon.”

The door slid open and you stared at your students with your mouth parted in surprise. You couldn’t believe that your students were here, especially on an important day. You wanted to scold them for doing this until you felt a very familiar cursed energy behind you.

“Good morning, earthworm! I decided to bring your favorite people to eat some lunch with you while you take a break from seeing those old men!”

You turned back around on your knees and pointed at Satoru with a worried glare, “What are you doing here? And you dragged our students to be here too? Do you know what this would look like? Like I’m not taking my marriage prospects seriously.”

Control your emotions. Be patient and tolerant. You chanted this a few times in your head then you focused back to the teenagers that awkwardly stood at the entrance of the room. You addressed all of them with a stern tone, “Did Naobito-sama and Naoya-san see you?”

Satoru shook his head furiously behind you and made a ‘X’ with his hands over his head.

Yuta rubbed the back of his neck and spoke up for his group, “Yeah and well, we weren’t accepted gracefully. B-but your servant, Tadashi, said it would be okay for us to have lunch with you! That Naoya was the second to last of your marriage…people…husbands?”

You rubbed your temple and called for Tadashi who immediately appeared in the room with his head bowed.

“And what of the last man, how long is he willing to wait? I don’t have time to eat with my students although I would love to. I do not want him waiting for too long, Tadashi.”

You didn’t want to reprimand Tadashi in front of your students, but these meetings needed to be taken seriously. The brown haired adult cleared his throat and gestured to the man at your table, “Excuse the terrible announcement, but Ms. [L.Name], Gojo Satoru is the last man. He was the one to suggest lunch with your students to make you comfortable.”

You could feel the confidence radiating off of Satoru’s body. You glanced at him from behind your veil and he was currently leaning on the palms of his hands. One leg was bent and the other stretched out to you from underneath the table.

“You can hide your eyes with that lace cloth, but your blush is very apparent.”

His words made the heat on your face even more unbearable and you looked away from him. Your right hand flew to your face and you cleared your throat, not wanting to make his words any truer than they already were.

“Well then, please sit down.” You told your students and they happily crowded the table. A spot was left free by your right side and you looked at Yuta oddly. Did he not want to sit close to you?

You had thought you and Rika settled your differences. Your questioning gaze took up Satoru’s attention and he smiled at your turmoil.

“I invited another to join us, but they’re running late.”

Yuta looked to his left and saw the scrutinizing squint you were giving him.

“I don’t want to get beat up, [L.Name]-sensei.”

Was all he said as an explanation then someone else barged into the room dumping his backpack onto the floor. You didn’t have time to greet the person because he dropped his body down next to you with a huff. Spiky hair blocked your vision as the person gave you a hug and greeting,

“Sorry, I’m late. Someone invited me an hour ago.”

Megumi pulled away with a grumble and glared at Satoru who snickered at him. You hugged the boy back and looked down at his attire. He was in his school uniform and it looked a bit tattered.

“Megumi, did you get into a fight?”

The boy ignored your look and pulled away from your loving hands that skimmed over his face that was slowly forming bruises. So this is what Yuta meant. He was afraid Megumi was going to beat him up.

“What a silly notion.”

You chuckled and servants flooded the room with food on plates. You let Megumi enjoy the food as did the rest of your students. They were very interested in what you had to say about your whole ordeal.

“I just hope my future husband is…I don’t know.”

You deflated and thought back to your prospects. None of them were truly nice to you and all they cared about was the blessed energy you had.

“It’s hard to know that I’m the last one in my family with a technique that every family wants to grab a hold of. The thing is, they don’t know the important downside of marrying a [L.Name] that has blessed energy.”

You drank more of your tea and explained further with your head down in shame, “Any heirs I produce will not be able to have cursed techniques. Carrying the babe for nine months will erase anything they inherit from their father. My sons will become protectors of their sisters. Like how Tadashi is my protector.”

“W-why not just tell them that?”

Yuta stuttered and he yelped when Maki smacked the back of his head. Then she picked up her bowl of rice saying, “She’s the last of her lineage, idiot. Why do you think that is?”

Yuta looked around the table for an answer and you handed over some beef to Megumi’s plate which he took gratefully. You spoke softly and said to Yuta,

“My family was assassinated one night. All my cousins, aunts and uncles. Even my mother, who was the holder of Nami’s Miracle, our ancestor from the Heian Period, died that night. Tadashi, at the time, slept in the room next to me and he heard the commotion first and woke me up. As stated before, a male [L.Name] is assigned as a protector and he was mine. He dragged me out of my room and hid the both of us in this room.”

You closed your eyes and sighed, “My mother died because she was the reincarnation of Nami. They killed her because Nami was Sukuna’s, how do I put this?”

Your two students, Maki and Panda, and Megumi spoke up all at once.

“Slave.”

“Wife.”

“Concubine.”

This earned a forced smile from you, “Yes, all those. They were afraid that Nami would overtake my mother’s soul and I don’t know, betray everyone? The only reason why I lived was because Nami’s Miracle was passed down to me with a ritual after my mother took her last breath. They believe that I could be controlled by their authority, they weren’t wrong about that. I am indulging in their marriage proposals.”

“And if you tell them that your future children cannot inherit cursed techniques, what’ll happen?” Yuta innocently asked, he wasn’t in the mood to eat anymore.

“Nothing will happen to her,” Megumi grumbled, stuffing rice into his mouth as he chewed angrily. Even thinking about harm or death coming to you made his blood boil. “They won’t lay a hand on her.” The 13 year old boy boldly stated and swallowed his food with a drink of his water.

“He’s right,” Maki chimed in, “[L.Name]-sensei will be protected by us, no matter who she marries. You better let us know if they hurt you, got it?” She directed the question at you and accepted her words. Your students were too precious for their own good.

“Hey, this is my proposal, not yours,” Satoru leaned over the table with an elbow propped up and his chin in his hand. He tilted his head from his students then to you. Despite his blindfold and your thin veil, he stared straight into your eyes. You could feel the way he drank your appearance up.

“I don’t care if our sons become protectors of their sisters. But that’s because I believe that our sons will still get something out of being their protector. After all, we are the strongest sorcerers, the same will go for our children.”

Children. Not heirs.

“But if they don’t?” You straightforwardly asked.

Satoru hummed and put his chin in his hand puffing out his cheeks for dramatics. Then he raised his arms up and said happily, “Well then, they’ll have my good looks! Come on, eat up! I made sure Tadashi had the servants in the kitchen cook your favorites along with Megumi’s.”

Megumi swallowed his current piece of food and pointed a death glare at his guardian, “I deserve this after you sent me a late invite. I swear you like to see me fail.”

“Nope!” Satoru shouted and picked up a sweet delicacy, “I just love to prove how much you love your dear mother figure!”

You giggled at Megumi’s staunch commitment with his words, “I will choose her infinitely over you as a father figure.”

“That’s enough from you both,” You hugged Megumi into your side as you winked at Satoru trying to appeal to the white haired male. But his feelings were hurt by the young boy.

“Excuse you, I’m the one who found you in the dumpster,” Satoru said offhandedly.

This caused Yuta to look at Megumi with wide eyes, “Wait, Megumi was found in a dumpster?”

“Yep! Discarded like he was nothing and I had to be the one to find him!” Satoru leaned back on his palms again while Megumi slammed his hand on the table. Some of the silverware and dishes clinked against one another,

“No, I wasn’t found in the dumpster! Also you’re the one who approached me with a weird looking face! [Name] was the only one out of the two of you that was approachable!” Megumi shouted in defiance.

It was at this moment you wished you could stop time. You were surrounded by people you loved and who loved you back. Megumi and your students filled parts of you that your family should have if they were still alive.

You watched silently as Megumi and Satoru argued with your hands in your lap. Maki and the boys grinning at the silly scene that radiated a comfortable environment for all.

If you were married to Naoya, you know that moments spent with your newfound family would be no more. Maki was a discarded Zen’in and Megumi…well he was under the care of you and Satoru. Your other students were also going to be turned away.

Your eyes fluttered over to Satoru and you saw the way he slightly turned his head to you. He closed his mouth holding back his retort and shouted shifting to a different target, “Maki, you won’t believe this, but Panda and Yuta lost Playful Cloud!”

“They what!”

“That’s not true! He's lying!”

It was a diversion so Satoru could speak to you alone over the table while Megumi joined in the teens yelling at one another.

“You’re nervous.”

This statement from Satoru was true.

“Of course, I am. This week is the choosing ceremony and the holidays are coming up. I will be with my husband celebrating Christmas with him for the first time…if he celebrates it.”

You said all this with a dejected tone. Meanwhile, Satoru listened diligently to your words, spoken and unspoken. He knew you were concerned over the life you had now and what would be taken away once you marry.

Satoru hummed and leaned over the table again, but this time he was much closer to you. Carefully, he reached his hands out and pinched the end of your veil and pulled it over your head.

“He was right to call you pretty girl this entire time,” Satoru whispered.

Your breath hitched and your heart ached from the mention of an old friend. Pretty girl was a nickname Suguru Geto honored you with while Satoru stuck with earth worm because of your love for gardening.

“Satoru, I might do something stupid if I marry Naoya. Like jumping off of a bridge,” You looked down and missed the way Satoru’s body tensed up.

“Don’t worry, everything will be okay,” He pulled away and the veil slipped down once his fingers released the fabric, “ because I promise that I will be your husband.”

This declaration rang with truth, you could feel the shivers run down you back once the words left his mouth. Yeah, it would be a blessing to marry your high school crush.

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Read the original series here under the title called "The Wife of Gojo Satoru"

#x reader #anime imagine #manga imagine #x female reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #Oh My Beloved

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chuluoyi · 7 months

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UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 01

✩°｡ ⋆ to be wed

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, family drama, angst to eventual fluff in later chapters, slight profanity (hopefully)

notes: in case you are wondering―no. this isn't a love triangle between you, megumi and naoya. naoya is an antagonist side piece to make this story spicier.

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | prelude <- previous ✩ next -> chapter two : unholy matrimony

Megumi had known it all along, that sooner or later, his checkered past would come back to bite him.

When Gojo told him that the Zen’in had called to make him reclaim his birthright, he was at a loss for words. And when he further explained that to stake his claim he had to make his standing clear and strong by marrying a girl he barely knew, he was angry.

"I don't want a place in that Zen'in hell. Forget it, you're making no sense."

"Megumi," Gojo started, crossing his arms and looking at him with a meaningful smirk and Megumi so badly wanted to wipe it off his sensei's face. "It's yours by right. All those things you've endured until now? It's for this precise moment. They covet your Ten Shadows Technique, and so you already have an advantage against Naoya. You have the chance to save your sister, Maki and Mai from that hell."

He shot him an irritated look. "I like my current life now, why would I go back there? And how do I save Tsumiki by fighting over inheritance against Zen'in Naoya? Are you right in the head, Gojo-sensei?"

"When you have a clan as prominent as Zen'in at your disposal, you can find an easier way to break her curse," his teacher said, visibly proud with his suggestion. "And that's why I'm telling you―the Hara girl is your key for that. Naoya wants to marry her, but if you do it first, then everything is yours for the taking."

Megumi recognized you as the girl from Kyoto Jujutsu High in his school days. He remembered seeing you during the goodwill event, and the only lasting impression he had of you was that you managed to befriend Inumaki, even though he just babbled a bunch of random onigiri ingredients.

Aside from that, he knew too little about you to draw a conclusion on anything.

"Don't you want to save Tsumiki?" Gojo was playing with his weakness, and Megumi knew it. He was trying to get him to do this insane bidding, but found himself unable to reject him outright the second time.

Did he want his birthright? No. Of course not. Megumi had enough of shit in his life already, and he was content with the way things were now.

But to save Tsumiki?

Apparently he was crazy enough to go with this.

And that was how he found himself walking by the temples in the Zen’in compound with you.

“Do you despise this arrangement?” you asked him warily, trying to gauge his emotions at all, because ever since the talk inside he had been nothing but a straight face. Even faced with Naoya’s boiling fury, he merely kept his silence. Now only Gojo stayed inside to broker the agreement with the Zen’in for your hand in this marriage with him instead of Naoya.

He stopped walking, and paused a moment to look at you, before sighing. “Would it make a difference if I was?”

“I suppose not.” You looked away, suddenly feeling guilty. He didn’t know that you have forced Gojo’s hand, and for a long time, you certainly didn’t want him to know. Your cover story was your clan wanted you to be betrothed to the Zen’in who inherits their signature fatal technique. “But you’re still human, and have feelings. You must feel something right now, like resentment towards me.”

Megumi scoffed. He had learned from a long time ago that people didn’t care about his feelings, or about him as a person at all.

“Hating you doesn’t make it any better for both of us, does it?” his gaze remained impassive.

If he was already this prickly, what would he do when the truth did come out? You swallowed your worry though, and put on your brave face.

“I know you don’t want this. Neither do I. But I think it’ll do us better if we can get to know each other first.”

“Right now?” he looked at you incredulously, having the expression of someone whose patience was being tested. “What more do I have to know? You’re Hara Sena. You went to Kyoto High, we were in the same year. And Naoya seems to have some sort of obsession with you by the way he keeps glaring at me for this.”

You widened your eyes at the blatant refusal. “Fushiguro Megumi, you’re as unfriendly as everyone says,” you retorted, now vexed at his biting tone. “You certainly live up to your reputation.”

“I know.”

For the first time after meeting him today, Megumi's mouth twisted into a genuine smirk. A chuckle escaped him as he looked at the boring lengths of the trees around him.

"How did you live all this time without Zen'in clan's intervention?" you cut through the awkward silence beside him.

"Why do you care about how I grew up?"

"Nothing, just curious is all. You are to be my husband and we must at least be on talking terms."

He let out a groan. "You're really going to be this way the whole time, won't you?"

"Come on, answer the question. I'll answer too if you ask me next."

Megumi paused on his tracks, arms on his hips. "Gojo-sensei took care of everything. You've heard how the story goes―that's all there's to it. I owe him my life." He tilted his head to the side, his hands now deep into his pockets. "What about you? What drove you into this?"

You held back a smile. "You might hear it already, my father's principal wife isn't my biological mother. I'm a product of my father's affair. Now I'm plucked as a chess piece to marry into the Zen'in to do my duty as a daughter. We're not so different, aren't we?"

"Yeah, we're just alike..." he mumbled to himself with a heavy tone, continuing the walk. "But then you wouldn't know. I'm not some mistake that got kicked around. There was a purpose behind my upbringing. Gojo-sensei didn't take me in for free."

"Hah," you barked a satire laugh. The nerve of him. "A mistake, huh? True enough."

He side-eyed you, so you elaborated further. You were not above being petty too. "No, I mean I'm the mistake. But you have a grander purpose―that is to serve the purpose of the Zen'in, whatever it is."

Megumi rolled his eyes. He was irritated, but not just because of your snide remark. "Can't have me dying without an heir, apparently," he said dryly, but then his expression changed again to one of disgust. "This whole thing is gross, you know? Us being wed just for a cursed technique. Or filial piety. A bunch of bullshit."

"That's one thing we can agree on," you shrugged, now clearly amused. Hey, maybe a life with him won't be so bad after all. He's quite sarcastic and relatable.

Megumi grunted, and both of you walked in silence for a while. His pace had slowed down a bit and when he spoke, his voice came out softer. "So, you seem pretty level-headed with all of this, and you seem eager to get to know me, why? Not that I'm totally opposed to it, but it's not like we're going to become bosom friends or anything."

You threw him a look. "I'm telling you―I don't want a marriage in which we yell everyday. I don't expect us to fall in love or anything, but the least we can do is become friends, don't you think?"

"Friends?" Megumi wondered out loud. He thought over what you said for a few moments. "Ah, I get it. If you married Zen'in Naoya, you'd spend the rest of your life miserable," he concluded with a click of his tongue. "I am the lesser of two evils, that's why you're fine with this."

"More or less, yes." You shifted your gaze from him to the gardens. "Glad to know you caught on that quick."

"So that's that. And you're right about one thing... we can't just yell at each other every day." He paused for a moment for a dramatic effect and then he chuckled. You were quite scheming, changing sides the moment he was called back into the Zen'in, he thought. "Yeah, now I can see why Naoya was so cranky. You have a way to annoy people," he joked.

"I'm not! I'll have you know I'm quite prim and proper."

"Really? You sure don't come off like that."

You whipped your head at him, halting your steps. Okay, now it's on. You're going to take him with you whether he likes it or not. To hell with what you did behind his back. "Well, you will, dear husband."

You almost let out a snicker when he froze at your usage of that endearment. Oh, so he gets shy easily.

His grip on the fabric of his pockets tightened. "Don't you call me that."

"Why? You are, though."

"I'm not your dear anything!" Megumi snapped, his voice becoming harsher. "I'm forced to enter this shit of a marriage and nothing more."

"Are you blushing?"

He froze again and this time you really laughed at his face.

How could he be blushing right now? Why? He tried to deny it but his face felt hot. "No... I'm not."

"Ahh, so you're that type... Well noted, dear," you winked, and Megumi swore your bright face did something to his insides that made his heart beat a tad bit faster. "I'll make sure to express myself often so you won't have to."

He turned his face away, effectively embarrassed. You were getting on his nerves. "I hate it when you say that."

You literally beamed, peering at him. "No, no. You'll come to find it tolerable."

He frowned. This girl... no one would've expected that you were caught in an unwanted arranged marriage with how freewheeling you seemed. And all in all, you still resembled the happy girl in his memories who tried to make a conversation with Inumaki some years ago. If all he had to do to save Tsumiki was marrying you, then he supposed it wasn't a bad deal after all.

Megumi muttered something under his breath, grumbling to himself.

"...yeah, maybe. We'll see."

"You damnable woman..." Naoya hissed under his breath. His hands clenched as blood seeped between them.

He was a step behind! He could've lost his status as the heir! All because that Gojo Satoru and his very presence insisted that he'd be the sponsor for that washed up bastard Fushiguro!

And that scheming Hara wench... Even you wriggled your way out of his grasp. What sort of ridiculous notion was this? How could he let his pride be stomped twice over the course of one day?

All his life, Naoya was led to believe that he was groomed to be the head of the clan. He was praised, cherished and deemed as the most promising. Everyone else was like ants he could stomp all over. He was born to rule over them.

And he still believed that until now, even as his inheritance was slipping away from his grasp.

He stared at the dead body of a servant girl who just got him his tea with a blank look, and raised his chin up. Undiluted hatred shone right through it.

No one gets away after scratching his back. Maybe Gojo Satoru can, but certainly not a girl from an insignificant clan or a bastard who tried to usurp his place.

Starting from Hara Sena, he thought with a snarl. You might've gotten away from your marriage with him, but he wouldn't let you go so easily. He'd make your life so hellish even when you were not with him.

And then, Fushiguro Megumi. He already had plans for him right from the moment the clan elders showed approval for his claim. He had plotted a way to get rid of him.

A sneer cut through his lips as he kicked the mangled corpse away. "Heh."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter two : unholy matrimony

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pin-k-ink · 14 days

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Zen’in Naoya x Reader

CW: naoya, dub-con, non-con, lots of sexual tension as usual, just naoya being naoya

Naoya had always been prideful of his belongings. Everything had to be perfect, elegant and expensive. He would take great pride in choosing these belongings himself. And he knew he'd always choose perfectly. The interior designer he picked for his study? Perfect. His room, clothes, food and even his cursed technique were flawless too. He was absolutely perfect in every way. But the most beautiful and perfect possession he had chosen by far, had to be you.

You were just eighteen when Naoya took you off the streets and conditioned you to be the perfect maid for him. As long as you were around, he didn't have to lift a single finger. And that's exactly how he liked it. Over time, Naoya found himself growing surprisingly attached to you. All the stupid, dumb, cute little things you did unknowingly charmed him.

Like the way you'd press your thumbs to his nape before starting a massage. "There you go again, my pet," he purred one evening as you worked the tension from his shoulders.

"Does master prefer it elsewhere?" you asked meekly.

"Not at all. I simply enjoy your little quirks."

Or the way you'd carefully color coordinate the fruit you prepared for him each morning. "Why must you make even breakfast so aesthetic?" he chuckled.

You blinked up at him. "I aim to please, master."

He savored how you'd lean in close to help him dress for the day, letting his gaze linger over your gentle curves before growling, "Careful now, you tease. Or I may have to discipline you properly."

That evening at dinner, Naoya ordered you to pour his sake. He watched hungrily as you elegantly filled his cup, bringing it to his lips to sip. So perfectly trained. His eyes shamelessly roamed your body, coveting what little skin you showed. He'd already seen your naked form, though he'd never admit how.

Perhaps some minor uniform adjustments were in order to show off your luscious assets more...no, all those beautiful dips and curves were for his eyes alone.

Later, as you bathed him, Naoya relished your attentive ministrations. The way you dripped aromatic oils into your palms before massaging them over his taut muscles. Ah, there were those dainty thumbs pressing into the nape of his neck just as he craved. You really had memorized every inch of his body's landscape.

"Eyes closed again, pet?" he rumbled. "You know my form that well, do you?"

"However else could I fully appreciate your perfection, master?" you murmured, working lower down his back.

Soon those talented hands would explore lower still, dragging breathy approval from his lips. His beautiful temptress knew just how to enliven his senses, even through the most mundane acts of service. Soon, he wouldn't be able to resist having you properly...

Naoya exhaled a sigh as your nimble fingers kneaded along his lower back, skirting dangerously close to the towel preserving his half-hard cock. He could sense your warm breath brushing his damp skin as you worked, utterly unaware of the escalating hunger smoldering in his gaze.

"You've become quite skilled at this, pet," he rumbled in approval. "Attending to your master's every need like the perfectly obedient little plaything you are."

You made a soft noise of agreement, far too dim to recognize the implicit vulgarity lacing his words. In your naivete, you simply preened at the praise, determined to maintain your flawless service.

Trailing his eyes shamelessly over the swell of your cleavage peeking from the kimono's loose folds, Naoya's mouth curved in a cruel smirk. "Perhaps you ought to loosen these robes, my dear. To better access the full expanses of your master's form..."

Without hesitation, you promptly undid the sash at your collar, letting the garment gape open to bare your breasts and abdomen. Gods, the blank innocence on your pretty face as you exposed yourself, waiting for further instruction with such trusting oblivion.

A low growl rumbled from Naoya's throat as he drank in your naked flesh, now completely on display. Resisting the urge to simply seize and ravage you became a serrated edge against his restraint. But not yet...first he would break you properly through torturous degrees.

"Very good, pet. You're learning, He crooned in silken menace. "Now attend to the rest of me with those talented hands...and put that luscious mouth to use as well."

Inclining his body, Naoya allowed the towel to slip lower, exposing his cock fully as he regarded you with blatant expectation. "Worship your master's perfection and perhaps you'll be rewarded accordingly..."

There was the faintest furrow of confusion as you processed his demand. But your training was absolute. Swallowing your puzzlement, you simply dipped your head in acquiescence and awaited further orders to serve him as the mindlessly adoring creature he'd molded you to be.

The sight of your earnest compliance and vacant pliability made Naoya's shaft throb insistently. Soon that sordid innocence would be expertly defiled upon the altar of his selfish desires. He could already taste the exquisite rapture of physically mastering this vapid little possession of his...

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #naoya smut #naoya x reader #naoya x reader smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x reader smut

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bungalowbear · 3 months

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good wife

naoya zen’in x reader, wc: 2,750

cw: nudity, p in v sex, arranged marriage, mentions of reader being pregnant, children, death, manga spoilers, MDNI

a/n: this was a concept i’ve had on my mind for a while. title from good wife by kacey musgraves. dividers by @anlian-aishang

Ever since you were young you knew you were destined to become a wife. Your family was well connected and sought after within the jujutsu community, so it was no surprise that when you came of age, and as your father’s only daughter, talks of your future marital status began.

Your father wasn’t completely insensitive to your position though. In fact, he agreed to a binding vow that relinquished any say you had of who you would marry, giving him absolute control of the decision, but only if he guaranteed your employment as an auxiliary manager for five years.

After you graduated from Tokyo Jujutsu High you stayed on as arranged by your father and worked alongside the other managers to support the active sorcerers in the area. Your cursed energy output wasn’t sufficient enough for any higher position, but you didn’t mind. While there were many factors, mainly a white haired sorcerer, that made some days more tiring than others, you were grateful for the fact that you could do the work in the first place. Not many in your position could say the same.

But all good things must come to an end.

Entering the final year of your contract, your father informed you that your husband had been chosen. A car was sent to take you to the train station, you were handed a ticket, and a few hours later you were at the Zen’in residence.

There were only two good things you heard about Naoya Zen’in. The first was that he was a strong sorcerer. The second was that he was quite handsome. But no amount of good looks could distract from his personality. Even with both your fathers present in the room, Naoya’s pride and arrogance were on full display as he made several demeaning comments at your expense. And he made his displeasure of the terms of your binding vow very clear, but nevertheless agreed, quite reluctantly, to allow you to complete the time remaining of the vow with the condition that after your marriage ceremony in the spring you must come to see him so that you could start trying for an heir.

You had no choice but to accept.

Spring came and went faster than you had hoped. Gone were the days of verdant greenery and perfect temperatures, now replaced with summer rains and blistering heat. You’ve spent many summers of your life in Japan, but that didn’t make this time of year any more bearable.

On a particularly humid day, after you completed your duties at the school, you took a train out of Tokyo to visit your husband. When you arrived at the Zen’in estate you were led to your shared room where your attendants bathed you and helped dress you in the kimono you were expected to wear while at the estate.

You were told that tonight Naoya was coming back from a week long mission and would have dinner with his father before coming to see you. Your own food was brought to the room. You ate in silence as your attendant watched and waited for you to finish before she took your dishes and left you alone to prepare to receive your husband.

When Naoya finally arrived, you greeted him formally and led him into the bathroom. You helped him shed each layer of clothing before he wordlessly stepped into the tub. He settled into the warm water then you began the work of scrubbing his body clean, lathering the special shampoo that preserves the dye in his hair, and rinsing it all away with the small hinoki wood bath bowl.

After you blow dried his hair and helped him redress into his nightwear, a black striped jinbei set, you both made your way to the bed where you lay on your sides facing each other. He looked at you with an expression you’ve never seen on his face before. There was a weariness in his eyes that you weren’t sure he was aware you could see, and his bottom lip stuck out in the tiniest of pouts.

“Zen’in-sama?” You brought your hand to rest on his cheek. “Is everything alright?”

“I…” he started, bringing his hand to cover yours, but then sighed and his expression returned to the guarded one you’ve come to know. “Be a good wife. Make me feel good.”

Naoya clutched your hand and guided it down his body. Pushing down his trousers with his other hand, he wrapped your hand around his half hard length. You stroked him to full staff then shuffled down the bed to kneel between his legs. When you took him into your mouth he released a deep sigh, and his breathing only became heavier as you bobbed your head up and down. You came to know the intricacies of your husband’s pleasure quite well these past few months that your hands and lips worked on instinct to bring him to release.

Even after he shot his spend down your throat he was still hard. He was the only man you’d ever been with, so you had no way to gauge if his stamina was more or less than the average man. It didn’t matter really. As long as he was ready and wanting, you were also expected to be.

You opened the panels of your kimono and exposed the bare flesh of your chest, torso, and womanhood to your husband. The fingers that brought him pleasure now traveled between your slick folds that only grew wetter as Naoya’s lust filled gaze followed your every movement. He watched you carefully, studiously, as you played with yourself.

You tilted your head back as you moaned softly, hiding the smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. Ever since you told Naoya, in the most demure fashion you could muster, that female orgasms increased the chances of conception he’d been resolved in learning how to make you feel good.

Once sufficiently lubricated, you slowly sunk down onto him. You began to move above him and Naoya’s hands gripped your hips tightly to guide you into a steady pace, reminding you that your positions didn’t change who was in charge.

The moans and grunts that passed through both your lips filled the room. Your breath hitched when a warm calloused thumb pressed against your small bundle of nerves. You looked down at where your husband dutifully swirled circles against your clit, but his eyes were focused on your stomach. On the way your muscles contracted from the sensation of his touch.

Naoya’s grip loosened before he suddenly flipped you onto your back. You didn’t have time to react, other than a surprised gasp, when he began to piston his hips into you. He pinned your hands above your head as he reached that spongey spot inside you, the one that made you clench tightly around his cock. And he kept hitting it. You whimpered in ecstasy as Naoya buried his face into your neck to muffle his own sounds, but the symphony of your joint pleasure continued to swell around the room until it reached the crescendo of your mutually achieved peaks.

Panting and without saying a word, Naoya pulled out of you with a quiet squelch of your combined juices, grabbed you by your thighs, and turned your body so that your legs and hips were angled upward against the headboard. After tucking a pillow underneath your bottom for support, Naoya settled on his side again with his head propped up in his hand.

“I won’t deny you anything.” He stared at your stomach again, gaze piercing, as if just by sheer will this time his seed would take. ”As long as you give me what I want in return.”

You didn’t sense that ponytail nuisance until it was almost too late. He tried to pierce his sword straight through your back but you dodged it at the last second, leaving a long bloody gash across your ribs.

With a frown, you reach into the pockets of your coat and produce your pair of sai.

Naoya had made a comment on how embarrassing it was to have to rely on a blade in battle. But when you reminded him of your minimal cursed energy output he’d simply scowled and walked away, most likely put off by the reminder of your inferiority.

But it was precisely the reason you worked to become proficient in Okinawan Kobudo. So that in situations like this you wouldn’t be completely helpless.

Your opponent’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, not expecting a mere auxiliary manager like you to put up a fight. But he quickly recovered and charged toward you.

The sharp clang of metal against metal rang out in the deserted street. Your movements were sharp and came in quick succession, while his were powerful but sloppy. You land a strike against the exposed skin of his torso and he jumps back with a shriek.

You kept your defensive stance as he pointed his sword at you.

“Not fair,” he whined. The end of his ponytail fell in front of his shoulder as he hunched forward. “You’re supposed to be easy to kill.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said bitingly.

The man looked like he was on the edge of throwing a tantrum. His eyes darted from side to side before he abruptly turned and ran off, literally hand in hand with his weapon.

You watched him until he disappeared around the corner of a building several blocks away, but your relief was short lived. A sudden wave of dizziness overcame you before collapsing onto the hard surface of the street.

When you came to you realized you were being carried.

“You’re safe.” The deep timbre of Nanami’s voice soothed you instantly. “I’m taking you to Ieiri.”

When you arrived at Shoko’s location, Nanami set you down carefully before leaving once more. She kneeled down in front of you and placed a hand over your ribs. You hissed as you felt the thrumming of her reverse cursed technique against your bones as she healed your wound. When her treatment was completed her usually dull eyes widened as she placed both hands over your torso.

“Shoko?”

She didn’t respond right away. Another sensation warmed you this time, something less repairing and more probing.

“I can feel two heartbeats.”

You didn’t need her to elaborate.

When the sun finally rose, you were permitted to leave. As you neared the edge of the perimeter you took out your phone and sighed at the several missed calls and texts from Naoya. News must have spread throughout the jujutsu community about the events that transpired, and your husband no doubt would be beyond pissed you had to be here in the first place.

Before you could contemplate whether to call him back or not, your name was called out. You raised your head and felt your body freeze at the sight of Naoya standing only a few yards away, along with one of your attendants from the estate.

You lowered your chin to your chest as he came forward. His eyes sat heavy on the tear in your shirt from where you’d been cut. You raised your eyes slightly and weren’t surprised to see his gaze now on your hand that rested over your stomach.

Suddenly, you were thankful for Shoko’s diagnosis.

“I am with child,” you confessed, hoping to lessen his wrath.

“Take her home.” Naoya raised his head. He looked past you as he spoke, addressing the attendant. “Clean her. Feed her. She is not allowed to leave our quarters until my return.”

He said nothing more before walking past you and deeper into the devastation that was Shibuya.

The Zen’in estate was admittedly quite lovely in the early autumn. The mixture of green and orange of nature’s transitional stage was always a sight you liked to take in. If only you were allowed to actually see it.

The door to your quarters opened and Naoya entered, followed by an older man who you assumed was the physician. He examined you and confirmed you were pregnant. About six weeks along.

“I haven’t experienced any morning sickness,” you said.

“That’s normal. About one third of pregnant women don’t experience it at all.” The physician spoke to you kindly, unlike most people you encountered in the estate. You were somewhat relieved by this. “Have you experienced any fatigue? Or tenderness in your breasts?”

“Both, actually.” You felt Naoya’s stare and wrapped your hands around your torso. “I thought it was just work-related stress.”

“There’s no need to worry. Plenty of rest, moderate exercise, and balanced meals will help you feel better and keep yourself and the growing child healthy.” The older man rose from his spot beside you. “I’ll return in a few weeks for another examination.”

Naoya and the physician spoke briefly at the door, mainly about the necessary changes to be made to your diet, before he departed. Your husband returned to your side and stood above you, looking down with a triumphant grin.

“In case it wasn’t clear, now that you’re carrying my child you won’t be returning to Tokyo.”

“But the binding vow—”

“Do you actually think after that incident I’d allow you to go back?” Naoya frowned. His tone was scolding. “You barely made it out alive.”

You knew that being his wife meant deferring to him, but that still didn’t stop you from advocating for yourself, spoken in a whisper, “I still have two more months.”

“I know.” Naoya rolled his eyes. “Which is why I’ve already arranged for your transfer to Kyoto.”

“But—”

“You never specified where you’d work. Did you?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” He crossed his arms, turning his back to you. “So just be grateful that you have such a benevolent husband to make these exceptions for you.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled.

Naoya turned his head to the side. “What was that?”

“Thank you, Zen’in-sama,” you said, louder this time.

“Don’t look so glum. Once your time as a manager is over you’ll be able to focus solely on your duties as my wife. And everything will finally be as it should.”

During Maki’s storming of the Zen’in estate, Naoya had been killed. He then reincarnated as a cursed spirit and was defeated once more. The stubborn bastard was truly gone.

You spent the rest of your pregnancy in a house in the countryside owned by the Zen’in family. A cook, two attendants, and a midwife were assigned to accompany you.

Nearly every night of your pregnancy you had a recurring dream, more like a memory really, of the day you and Naoya were married. In your dream you watched from afar as your two figures clad in the traditional uchikake and montsuki marched side by side dutifully beneath the large red parasol. Sometimes you were in the procession heading into the shrine, and other times you were standing on the small bridge built over the nearby creek waiting for your photographs to be taken. You remembered the current of anxiety that flowed through you, only soothed by the delicate pink petals that floated down from the trees.

After your daughter was born the dreams stopped.

You held no doubts that if your husband were still alive he wouldn’t hide his disappointment of his firstborn not being a boy. Although Naoya was traditional is almost every sense, your actual marriage to him was not conventional in the slightest. You’d only spent a couple of weeks truly living together before his death, but most of that time was spent fussing over your condition. You realized too late that Naoya had his own way of showing affection. Perhaps if you had more time together you could have understood it better and harnessed its potential. You were very experienced at managing delicate situations after all.

You could’t say for certain whether you were, or could become, a good wife. The only goal you’d spend the rest of your life trying to achieve was to be a good mother. In this new age of jujutsu, you’d guide and protect your daughter as she came of age and her cursed technique was revealed. You’d treasure her despite being the spitting image of her father.

But in the deepest part of your heart you knew that without Naoya you wouldn’t have been able to create the miracle of life that was your Sakura, named after the cherry blossoms that surrounded her parents on the day of their union.

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#catalog #good wife #zenin naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #jjk #naoya smut #jjk smut

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