Pairing: general!suguru x fem!reader
Word Count: 11.8k
Chapter Warnings: 18+ / MDNI. please read my blog rules before interacting. mature themes, depictions of violence and injury. Unreliable narrator. Dialogue heavy. Period-typical societal views.
Tags: historical au, non-curse au, marriage of convenience, slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut, angst, hurt/comfort, fictional politics, long fic, emotional constipation, he falls first and harder
Summary: One event. Lives changed. Many revelations emerged. The palace, an enduring vessel for ill conspiracies, conceals its rot beneath opulence. Princess Ayaka, who seems to have it all is now confronted with the darkness that brews in her heart, and stands at crossroads. The return of Crown Prince Hayato beckons her to embrace the abyss.
a/n: thank you for your enduring love and patience for this series! The long awaited chapter 9 is finally out! It's been so fun writing this chapter, and it has been something I've been looking forward to writing since chapter 5, but it turns out Ayaka is probably the most difficult character to write in this series. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy! See you in the comments. x
Master List: << chapter 8 || chapter 10 (tbc) >>
[Chapter 9]: Flower Amidst Rotten Soil
The palace always had an ominous darkness to it, even more so at night when everything stilled and silence washed over. Perhaps it was because it bore witness to the machinations of generational evil within its walls.
For the common folk, it would be a dream to step foot inside the regal gates, yet most do not realize that opulence was all but a mere deception. A rot that festered beneath the beauty.
Shadows danced among the embers that flickered against the corridor walls. Hushed secrets, cautious steps, and ill conspiracies. With every stride, servants silently bowed and parted for her.
Ants.
They all reminded her of ants.
Ayaka couldn’t recall exactly when she had adopted this perception, yet her life was no less pathetic. Even now, as she made her way to the throne room to welcome Hayato back from his political tour in the South, her mind constantly drifted back to the Eastern Campsite.
Lady Geto.
You were like a vengeful apparition that haunted her every thought. At times she would even see your face in the vanity’s corner as a lady-in-waiting tended to her hair and adorned her in jewels. Were you truly so formidable a woman—that you could have turned the tides of the marriage in your favor?
She had refused to believe it at first, but there was no doubt after how the events unfolded: Suguru had changed.
More insufferably, he had changed because of you.
---
When Sato had asked her to go to the Eastern Campsite, it had puzzled her at first. Ayaka was not ignorant of the political tensions from the East, but negotiations were never her strong suit. Hayato or the older princesses had always handled the more consequential matters. Surely, it was no place for a docile woman like herself to be.
“House Geto is there—I have sent word. Suguru will receive you. You need only follow his command,” Sato said.
Ayaka paused at the mention of his name, anticipation quickly eclipsing the uneasiness. Before she knew it, she had happily complied—not that there was really a choice. But knowing that Suguru would be there turned a nettlesome obligation into something she would have gladly volunteered for.
She could see the mirth in her father’s eyes, a particular amusement that only surfaced when he was watching his scheme unfold. Yet despite knowing that her father had something calculated in motion, she held onto the fact that she could see her lover once more.
A chance graced by the universe.
---
“Hachi, does Father truly think I would be an adequate negotiator?” Ayaka asked her lady-in-waiting, Hachiko, the night before they were set to leave for the campsite.
“Worry not, Ayaka-sama,” she replied, while expertly brushing Ayaka’s hair and conditioning it with the finest hibiscus oils. “His Majesty is wise—he will ensure the outcome is a favorable one. Besides, what is there to fear if General Geto is there?”
Hachiko’s words were true and wise as ever.
Since they were children, he had always been steady, an anchor amid a world that had always demanded ideal beauty and perfection from her. And after the tragedy ten years ago, though there had been a long period they did not meet, there were still facets of him that remained unchanged. She wholeheartedly believed that the boy beneath the King’s General still existed.
Ayaka’s shoulders relaxed as she let out a contented hum, leaning into Hachiko’s touch. At least within the palace, she could always rely on her first lady-in-waiting to be a constant source of comfort.
---
Ayaka had always loathed long travels. Days were spent in a stuffy carriage, and the unstable rattling often made her motion sick. Alas, it was undignified to express even a morsel of negativity. An ideal princess—an ideal woman—was to be agreeable.
Obedient.
Thoughtless.
Yet how does one rid themselves of all thoughts…
Unless they were dead.
The last time she had to travel such a great distance was to meet with the Eastern Empire, to see her betrothed, Prince Kotoyuki, face to face. He was pleasant. Gentle, with a dimpled smile. Tall, with a lean frame. He was not demanding like Father or Hayato.
But he was not Suguru.
Prince Kotoyuki, though he may have been kind, would eventually reveal his conditions. After all, the marriage was only transactional. The Eastern Empire required the backing of a powerful nation so as not to be brutalized by the barbarians that lived beyond their opposite border. Still, Kotoyuki would expect a dignified woman—a woman worthy to be the Empress of the Eastern Empire.
And Suguru did not.
Suguru saw Ayaka. He had cherished and loved her, and had always allowed her to simply be.
Although it was cruel to watch him marry another woman, Ayaka could see it in his eyes then—that he felt nothing for his new bride.
He did not love you, and he never would.
---
Her heart dropped the moment the campsite came into view, nothing like the excitement she'd imagined. From a distance, she could see House Geto and an entourage of soldiers behind them. All standing on guard to welcome her. It was not Suguru her eyes could not stray from; it was you.
It had always been you.
Since the night of the wedding ceremony.
No matter how much she had tried to convince herself that your marriage was nothing but a farce, seeing you made it hard to believe that the farce would prevail.
It was undeniable, even more so in daylight—the two of you looked like a picturesque match. Like two indomitable forces forged by the gods, and preordained by the universe to be equal counterparts.
She bit the inside of her lip until a small metallic taste pricked the tip of her tongue.
She must assert herself in Suguru’s heart.
She must believe that their shared history and their love were the enduring truth.
---
The initial reunion was short-lived, and there was little time for settling down before the council briefing. Much to her disappointment, it was you who showed her to her quarters, but she supposed it was by virtue of you being the General’s wife—though she vehemently refused to address you as such.
The more she observed you, the more she loathed the cold and impassive face you donned, as though you thought all to be beneath your station.
If you had resented your position so, then you ought to give it up.
How dare you not value the title of Lady Geto?
Suguru had given you all that a lowly-judge’s daughter could only dream of. But now that you had claimed it—you dare besmirch it with your arrogance?
Yet, as much as every fiber in her body wanted to reject your being, a perverse part of jealousy compelled her to pull you closer.
“Wait, Lady Geto.”
She gently waved away the royal servants and gestured to the empty seat beside her. “Would you stay and keep me company for a while?”
Most would have pounced on the chance to rub shoulders with a princess, but you remained indifferent—almost as though you had no interest in keeping her company.
Were you jealous?
Were you aware that you may have been Lady Geto in title, but not in Suguru’s heart?
Judging by how you only spoke when spoken to, perhaps there was one thing she could commend you for: you understood your place.
Ayaka’s eyes carefully traced you, as you made your way across the tent and sat as polite a distance as one could manage on a small bench.
“How is marriage with Su— I mean, General Geto?”
It had been unintentional. His name had always come naturally to her, but the sound of Suguru’s name coming from her lips—in front of you, no less—sent an unexpected exhilaration through her.
Better yet, this familiarity ought to rattle you. A reminder that you stood no chance when it came to his heart.
“Our marriage is more than I could have asked for,” you said, almost wistfully.
It was not the answer she had anticipated. But perhaps you had only said it out of diplomatic courtesy. After all, it was not possible that Suguru would have had a change of heart.
“I don’t expect any less. He is a good man after all.” The corners of her mouth twitched. “We’ve known each other since we were children... so he is very important to me.”
“He is an honorable and competent man,” you replied.
“Indeed, he’s always been like that since we were young,” she replied, ignoring the annoyance that needled at her. “We both cherish each other deeply, so I just want to make sure he’s treating you well.”
You paused for a moment.
Had it finally sunk in that you could never measure up to the history they shared?
“Thank you for your concern, Ayaka-sama. As his wife, I take comfort knowing Suguru is surrounded by loyal allies like yourself.”
She couldn’t help but let out a laugh.
It was maddening how you stubbornly clung to the performance of a civil marriage.
Why couldn’t you break into tears? Reveal the truth that your marriage was failing?
Tell her that Suguru was repulsed by the mere thought of you?
Perhaps she ought to try to appeal to your humanity instead. After all, you should understand—between two dignified women—the gravity of what you had stolen from her.
“To be honest… I’m a little worried about this meeting.” Her voice was demure. “My father shouldn’t have sent me here. I doubt I’ll be of any help.”
You looked at her.
“Forgive my directness, Ayaka-sama. But are you not to wed their prince? I cannot see anyone else more suitable for this negotiation than you.”
She was certain you had not a single drop of sympathy in your blood.
“I-I am…” She slightly slumped, her composure threatening to break. “But… I have never done this before. And in truth, I do not want to marry him.”
Was it not enough to take her lover, that you must also rob her confidence?
“I am afraid that is beyond my understanding, Ayaka-sama.”
“Then… how did you and General Geto make it work?”
It was only for a fraction of a second, but she saw it in your eyes—how you were taken aback by the directness of the question.
“I believe the foundation of any relationship—not just marriage—is respect, Ayaka-sama. Knowing which lines should not be crossed, while affording each other the space to remain their own person.”
“I-I see…”
Perhaps she had credited you too soon with understanding your place.
---
The war council was nothing short of confusing. Ayaka had tried to grasp the political situation, but even the finest negotiator would not be able to persuade themselves out of this.
From all accounts, the Eastern Empire had the right to view this as an act of betrayal and hostility. The only way to resolve this tension would be if her father withdrew the troops. But knowing Sato, he would rather start a war before backing down.
Indignation simmered beneath her skin.
How could her own father put her in this impossible situation? How could he subject her to such humiliation?
But even more irritating, why had an invitation been extended to you?
Had Suguru truly deemed you capable enough to have a seat at the table?
Should you not be tending to other menial affairs at the campsite, as a proper, dignified noblewoman would?
Ayaka glanced at the parchment before her; her handwriting was immaculate but also reflected her tenuous understanding of the situation. She had hoped to be more diligent with the note-taking, but her current grievances outweighed her attention to the meeting.
Then again, you remained silent the entire time. Perhaps you were just as lost as she was—or even more so. Maybe Suguru would reconsider bringing you to such a high-stakes meeting the next time, so as not to embarrass him and House Geto.
“I will step in if necessary, Ayaka-sama,” Suguru reassured her. “Please, just try your best.”
For a moment, she looked at you, only to be met with an empty stare. You had not spared one look at her in the entirety of this meeting, yet when Suguru had professed his unyielding support—you looked.
Every council member had followed suit and offered their support. It was evident that you could not stand it.
You may force your way to a seat, but there were always consequences for those who covet more than they deserve.
“I will do my best,” Ayaka said softly, her eyes moving to Suguru. “With General Geto and everyone by my side, I am sure it will go well.”
As the grueling meeting concluded, Ayaka was more than eager to leave. She could not stand another moment with the war council, all of whom added little value to a solution and only expressed their anxieties. Being in proximity to such fretful men only compounded on her own unease. After all, there was nothing that could be done. It was true what Hachi had said: as long as Suguru was there—victory was assured. She had nothing to fear even if the negotiations were unsuccessful, because Suguru always had a plan.
“A penny for your thoughts, Lady Geto?” Haibara’s voice caught her attention as she was leaving, but she did not want to waste another second inside that stuffy tent.
It was perplexing. Why did Haibara seem fixated on you? She had crossed paths with Haibara more times than she could remember during their childhood, but he had never once asked anything to the effect of her thoughts or opinions. Then again, Haibara had always been quiet, like Suguru’s silent watcher.
Perhaps… there was something scandalous brewing under the roof of House Geto. Why else would a man be so keen on another woman—and a married one, no less?
She could ask Hachi to investigate another time. But this moment with Suguru was precious, and she did not wish to sully it with the thoughts of you.
---
Ayaka walked alongside Suguru through the campsite. She couldn’t recall the last time they had walked so closely. Every second with him felt like compensation for stolen time. Their last encounter at his wedding was not their kindest. It was tense, a charade filled with false blessings and venom-laced compliments.
But with Suguru, when was she ever at ease?
Especially not after what her father did to House Geto.
The hypocrisy of cherishing a man whose ruin was all because of a tyrannical father. The shame to continue loving such a man, while still clinging to the monster that orchestrated his demise.
Yet despite knowing such shame and hypocrisy, it was selfishness guised in devotion that prevailed.
Because she could not stop loving him.
And she was certain she never would.
“I hope marriage has been treating you well.” She tried to make conversation, yet there was an undercurrent of unfamiliarity she could not quite shake—as though they had become estranged.
“Yes,” Suguru smiled. “It is more than I could have asked for.”
It had only been a few months since Suguru had wedded, but it seemed that the two of you had begun to share a similar resonance.
“Both you and Lady Geto said the same thing. You two must understand each other very well.”
He hummed, a small contented smile graced his lips.
“Everyone is so enthusiastic about my marriage—enough about me. How was the journey? Are you tired?”
“Oh, well. It was quite alright…”
Though he walked beside her, so close that she could smell the scent of fresh linens and the warmth that radiated off his body—his mind was far away.
He was preoccupied.
She wished she had not been so astute when it came to him, because it did not escape her—how her words did not seem to quite reach him.
How his usual smile did not quite radiate its usual warmth.
How his eyes, for a fleeting moment, flickered back towards the tent.
---
The week leading up to the Eastern envoy’s arrival was uneventful and disappointing. Despite Suguru being on the same campgrounds, Ayaka barely crossed paths with him, let alone spent time by his side. It was as though the universe was playing a cruel joke.
Much to her dismay, she had crossed paths with you daily. At one point, in a momentary lapse of judgment, she let her agitation slip.
“It seems fate always brings us together, Lady Geto,” Ayaka remarked as she caught you walking alone from the opposite direction.
She couldn’t put her finger on when, but she had noticed your lady-in-waiting had been absent from your side for some time. Perhaps you were difficult to please. Given your aloof nature, Ayaka could only surmise you were unpleasant company.
“The grounds are only so small, Ayaka-sama,” you politely bowed. “I am certain the fates have more important things to oversee—such as ensuring your success at the negotiations.”
Were you mocking her?
Did you think that she was so inadequate—that the fates had to help her?
You were more vicious and conniving than she had originally thought.
As if it had not been miserable enough, the constant chatter and whispers around the campsite about how Lady Geto was an extraordinary woman, and a match made in heaven for the General, made her blood boil.
It was impossible that you were as brilliant as they say. Surely, they were superficial compliments to get on Suguru’s good graces. Especially a woman like you, who kept close to herself, must have a vile secret—a vice.
---
After the insulting exchange, she had secretly sent Hachi to spy on you and Haibara for the rest of the week.
“Ayaka-sama,” Hachi reported without fail every night. “I have not seen Haibara or Lady Geto do anything disgraceful.”
“Are you certain, Hachi?” Ayaka pressed. She had resigned herself to calligraphy to pass the time, writing mantras and prayers for peace and success. “Not even a glance that lingered for too long?”
“I assure you, Ayaka-sama. My eyes remain ever keen to serve you.”
Ayaka let out a small huff, dropping her brush—the ink splattered across the scroll of beautifully written prose. She wanted to scream. Nothing had gone the way she had imagined thus far. Hot tears of frustration welled up in her eyes, but she had refused to let them fall because it was undignified to cry and throw a tantrum.
For once, even Hachi’s words were far from comforting.
---
Tomorrow was the decisive day, yet Ayaka found it difficult to sleep, even with Hachi’s coaxing. Quietly slipping out of the tent undetected, she found herself wandering aimlessly around the outer skirts of the campsite. It would be a lie to say she was not nervous, despite knowing that even if she were to fail on her end, Suguru would pick up the pieces.
A part of her wished she had been more capable, more useful. Being treated delicately had its advantages—it was not always terrible. But at times, there was also a sense of embarrassment and shame that came with it. Yet, she understood that everyone around her had been conditioned to treat her as such: naive, helpless, and fragile.
An ornament wrapped in silk.
A silk that bound like steel.
The sound of streaming water pulled her from her thoughts. Her mind had not even registered that she had been subconsciously seeking something, or rather, someone—until she finally found him by the riverbank.
“Suguru, there you are,” she called out.
He, too, appeared lost in thought. Perhaps he had been thinking about the negotiations.
“Ayaka-sama,” he smiled.
Whenever he addressed her so formally, it felt as though the chasm between them had grown. A chasm that her father had wedged between them ever since he decided to do the unspeakable. If only she could turn back time and gain the courage to stand by Suguru’s side.
If only she had been braver back then, Suguru would be calling her something entirely different now.
“It’s just you and me, Suguru, there’s no need to be so formal.” Ayaka chuckled, trying to ignore the way her chest ached.
He let out a quiet hum.
Without an invitation, she took a seat beside him. It was untoward for a woman to be alone with a man at night, and in such a remote area no less. But in this moment, Ayaka could not care less about optics or noble etiquette—she only wanted to close the ever-growing gap between her and the man she loves.
“Are you nervous for tomorrow?” She asked.
“It will be fine,” he let out a soft chuckle. “I believe you can do it.”
What if… she did not want to do it?
What if she wanted it all to crumble and fall?
What if her father could declare war on the Eastern Empire instead?
Surely, that would mean that the marriage between her and Prince Kotoyuki would be annulled.
Her and Suguru could be together.
She would be braver, more useful, smarter this time—
“I’m not so sure to be honest. Perhaps Lady Geto would make a better negotiator than me.”
Why…
Why was it that even in this moment with Suguru, it was her tongue that spoke of you from her own volition?
“And what makes you think that?”
“She’s just so… capable and intelligent”
“It is true,” he admitted.
It was almost reflexive; the way he had agreed so swiftly did not escape her. Whenever someone spoke positively of you, his eyes would soften, and a wistful smile would play on his lips. At first, it was easy to convince herself that it was all performance.
Now, her belief was wavering.
“You know—she reminds me of Hayato. The two of them probably would’ve gotten along.”
She had not entirely meant it. She had only said it because she could not stand the thought of you occupying space in Suguru’s heart and mind. Knowing Hayato, he would not have spared a glance at you—a nameless family who held the title of nobility but had no actual political standings.
“Perhaps,” he remarked, but it lacked warmth.
Had the thought of you being close to another man irritated him?
“Would it be selfish of me to say that I don’t want this negotiation to succeed?” She asked.
“I will pretend I did not hear that.”
How much more rejection must she bear?
He may have been honorable and duty-bound to a fault, but was it really so important that he would sacrifice the love they once shared?
Does he not realize that his blind loyalty to her father was futile?!
“I don’t want to marry their prince—I don’t want to marry anyone. If it’s not—”
Suguru’s face hardened, his entire body went still. Ayaka was not sure if she had pushed him too far. She had voiced more than she should have. But now that she had found a sliver of courage, she could not hold back. Nothing else mattered as long as she could stay in his orbit.
“I want to be with you, Suguru,” she quietly confessed, her hand resting on his arm in a desperate attempt to keep him. “I don’t care that I’m not Lady Geto, and if I must be second—”
“Ayaka…” The waver in his voice was unmistakable, which meant he only needed gentle coaxing.
She leaned in, closer.
“If we love each other, I can convince my father. I’ll do everything I can.”
He did not resist her advances.
Finally, it seemed for all the time apart this week, her prayers were finally answered.
It had all been in her own head.
Suguru still loved her.
Emboldened by the moment, Ayaka leaned in for a kiss. Her heart beating violently against her chest, as the blood rushed to her ears. She had never done this before—for it had always been a man’s duty to pursue. But in this moment she could not care for societal norms and expectations, she could not imagine sharing such intimacy with anyone else, except Suguru.
What is dignity without love?
What is love if it is not the very man before her?
His gaze drifted to her lips. And then he paused. For a split second, his gaze seemed adrift.
Was he nervous?
Their faces now mere inches apart, so close that she could feel the charged warmth between their bodies—
Snap.
---
In her mind, she thought she had won. Especially now that it was all laid bare, in front of your very eyes, where you truly stood.
“I… apologize,” you shakily stammered.
She should have celebrated this moment. She should have rejoiced in how she had finally crumbled your walls. But her instinct was to defend her own reputation as a princess, and not as a woman who had reclaimed her lover.
“L-Lady Geto! It’s not what it looks like.”
At this moment, watching you falter while holding fast onto your dignity, was not exactly the triumphant moment she had imagined.
“It’s alright, Ayaka-sama.” Your usual aloofness broke into something indiscernible. “I saw nothing shameful.”
Before she had another chance to speak, you turned and walked away.
Silence stretched in the aftermath; each passing second felt like an eternity. The Suguru she had known as a child would have comforted her without hesitation, but the man before her remained still.
Not once did he look at her.
“S-Suguru, I—”
“I’m sorry.” His voice was curt. “This cannot happen again.”
And to her horror, he chased after you without another thought.
She helplessly watched as his figure disappeared into the night, leaving a cold hollowness in its wake.
---
It’s alright, Ayaka-sama. I saw nothing shameful.
Your voice echoed into the depths and crevices of her consciousness. She had tried to convince herself countless times that it was, indeed, nothing shameful. After all, it was you who stole a role that was never meant for you to fulfill.
Even so, her heart knew otherwise.
What she had done was not only indecorous, but it was disgraceful. Had someone else caught the two of them by the riverbank, it would have ended in a fatal outcome. Sato would have easily overlooked his own daughter’s shortcomings, but his general would not be pardoned—it would have been deemed an act of treason, something her father would have been more than willing to decree.
Forget about you.
She was careless—she should have thought of Suguru more.
Yet, this entire journey had put her at a crossroads: to let go of him, or to relinquish all decorum and pursue him with her full might.
Had she been wiser and more rational, she would have let go of him. But matters of the heart do not answer to logic.
---
The Eastern delegation arrived with their horses and lavish costumes. Their loud displays of opulence were misguided and highly improper, given the nature of the meeting. It was as though they had already declared themselves the victors.
Inside the council room tensions remained high, but the animosity between the two parties wasn’t the only storm brewing. Ayaka knew that the two countries’ goodwill rested on her, yet even as she regurgitated what she had endlessly rehearsed the past week, her mind was elsewhere.
Every chance there was for assertion, that vulgar Takeda would cut in.
She had begun to run out of words; the talks were only going in endless circles. Now, she had hoped Suguru could save her—
“If I may,” you interjected, raising a hand slightly.
All eyes turned to you, including Suguru’s. You had crossed the line yet again, and overstepped his authority, but instead of condemning you for your presumptuous lack of decorum… he acknowledged you.
How infuriatingly meddlesome.
Even after all that had transpired, you were still tenaciously clinging to him—trying to make yourself seen.
But Ayaka understood at this very moment that there was nothing she could do. Because as much as she loathed to admit it, she benefitted from your interference.
It was evident…
She was inadequate after all.
---
As the unexpected truth came to light in the midst of this negotiation, a shiver ran down her spine. It was not the Eastern Empire’s betrayal that had terrified her, though that in itself was shocking.
It was you.
How was it possible that you had discovered such a damning secret?
How much more were you hiding under the facade of Lady Geto?
As commotion erupted into chaos, Ayaka’s attention remained fixed on you. It was as though the more she tried to reject you, the more gravity compelled her into your orbit. Even amidst the current disaster of bickering, prideful men, you sat there in poised silence.
Your restrained composure, calculated movements, and articulation…
There was no doubt you could be on par with the likes of her father and Hayato.
“Your wretched nation deserves to be taken down,” Takeda snapped. “It should be your lands ravaged and burned—your innocent civilians slaughtered!”
The room went deathly silent.
“Our King is a coward!” Takeda yelled, eyes wild as he turned to Ayaka and pointed at her with a disdain so deep, as though he had promised blood and death.
Ayaka’s body went cold, frozen in dreadful fear. Something dangerous was unraveling before her very eyes, though she could not prepare for what was to come.
“He thinks marrying his son off to a tyrant’s daughter will bring about peace?!”
Her father may have blood on his hands, but she had nothing to do with it. She did not choose this life, nor could she escape its vile clutches either. She may have been born into the abyss, and even if the blood of a tyrant flows through her—she was no monster.
Why must she carry this shame?
All she yearned for was to be free, and to be loved—
Suddenly, Takeda launched himself from his seat, drawing his sword.
Everything that followed happened too fast.
It should have been her.
In that fleeting moment before he moved, his eyes locked with hers—she knew he had intended to sentence her fate.
But instead…
She was now on the floor, Suguru’s body hovering over hers, protecting her from danger.
Her eyes locked with his frenzied stare, his breath erratic.
He had saved her.
Perhaps he still loved her—
“My lady!” Yumi’s scream pierced through the noise.
“What are you doing?! Have you lost your mind, Takeda?!”
Her gaze finally snapped beyond Suguru’s shoulder, and in that moment, the blood drained from her body. You were pinned onto the floor, Takeda’s blade inches from your throat, death barely postponed with your hand on the steel’s edge. One more breath and it would cut through your fingers.
The revelation that she was about to witness your gruesome death tore a guttural scream from her throat.
Her scream snapped Suguru to his senses, the realization finally dawning on him that you were in mortal danger. He immediately lunged at Takeda with all his might, tackling him onto the floor. The blade clunked to the floor.
Amid the frenzy, she couldn’t see what had transpired next, as the soldiers escorted her out with urgency. Haibara continued to reason with Suguru, though she couldn’t make sense of what he was saying—adrenaline still rushing through her veins.
Yet from all the violent chaos and near-death experience came a silver lining, a realization that no one could deny:
Suguru had chosen her over you.
---
Soldiers remained on high alert, ten of them exactly, encircling Ayaka’s tent. Now that the adrenaline had settled, it became suffocating. So much so that she had dismissed the rest of the royal servants and only allowed Hachi to stay.
“General Geto had rushed Lady Geto back into their quarters,” Hachi informed.
“How grave are her injuries, Hachi?”
“It is much too grotesque, Ayaka-sama. Spare your heart of such matters.”
“Do you think she will survive? It is all because of me—”
“Nonsense. General Geto had done the most honorable thing. He is truly your father’s most trusted general.”
Initially, she had thought that Suguru jumped to her defense because his heart still held feelings towards her, but now that Hachi had said it… she loathed to confront the possibility that Suguru only protected her out of duty.
It couldn’t be.
The way he had not hesitated even for a fraction of a moment must have proven where his heart truly lay.
“I must see her.”
“You need not blame yourself, Ayaka-sama—”
“I wish to see her, Hachi,” Ayaka repeated more assertively.
A dissonant ache coiled in her chest. Guilt laced with a flicker of concern, yet she understood the concern was not entirely pure.
---
Ayaka barged her way out of the tent, immediately decreeing all soldiers to remain on guard around her tent. As she made her way through the campsite alone, her eyes found a physician moving with urgency.
“Are you tending to Lady Geto?” she called out.
The physician stopped in his tracks, abandoning his haste to greet Ayaka. Everyone knew it mattered not—even in the face of death—royal blood always came first if you valued your own life.
“Ayaka-sama. General Geto has summoned me, I fear death’s grip tightens on Lady Geto each passing moment.” The physician attempted to cut the conversation short.
The words struck her unexpectedly. She knew not whether to feel relief or horror at the prospect.
“I shall accompany you. We must go—quickly.”
Ayaka’s arrival inside the quarters was not at all what she expected. Instead of the usual reverence or delight she was greeted with, a hint of confusion cast down on the entire party.
“I’m sorry,” she said, out of breath. “I wanted to be sure Lady Geto was all right, so I stopped the physician on the way…”
Suguru’s expression immediately darkened, annoyance flickering across his face. He had never shown her such hostility before. She had only come here out of concern, and yet her goodwill was seen as nothing but an intrusion.
It was jarring.
Even if it was only a momentary lapse in his usual character.
“May I, Lady Geto?” The physician extended his hand as he sat at the bedside.
It was true, what the physician had said earlier. She had never seen so much blood in her life. The possibility of you succumbing to your wound seemed likely.
“I only want Yumi here,” your voice cracked.
Even in the face of death, you were a prideful woman.
“Let’s respect Lady Geto’s wishes,” Haibara acquiesced.
Perhaps it was for the better. After all, this gruesome sight was nauseating. But Suguru lingered, reluctant to go. And if Suguru would not leave, she must stay as well.
Before either could further protest, Haibara forced both of them out.
---
Suguru stared off into the distance outside the tent. His hands balled into tight fists, knuckles whitening.
“Yumi, please—help stabilize our lady!” The physician’s voice cut through the fabrics of the tent.
He spun around, wanting to charge in. But Haibara held him back. Despite the small resistance he had put up he eventually gave in and calmed.
Ayaka had never seen Suguru unravel like this before. Even as he stood at his family’s funeral—the sole survivor of the Geto massacre—he had never once displayed this kind of volatility.
Her eyes drifted to Haibara. For the first time since the arrival at the Eastern Campsite, she had truly looked at him. Suguru had grown into a formidable man—that much was obvious, but Haibara, too, was formidable in his own right. Perhaps he had proven to be even more rational than Suguru at times. He had grown much taller, shoulders much broader. Judging by the sword fastened on his hip, it appeared he had also taken up the sword rather than keeping his nose between books.
It was inappropriate, given the direness of the situation, but standing alone with Haibara and Suguru elicited a sense of nostalgia. She could almost smell the sweet cherry blossoms as the memory resurfaced. Carefree summer days when the trio used to spend a lot of time together at the Geto Estate. Haibara often kept to himself with a book, while Suguru brandished a sword on the training field. Ayaka would sit with Sayuri, mesmerized by the way the sword seemed to dance with Suguru as one.
Yet despite growing up closely together, there had always been a quiet distance between them.
By no means was Haibara’s character offensive; in fact, Ayaka had always found his loyalty and gentleness admirable. If anything, she had wished to be closer to Haibara. Every time they spoke, he was cordial, but he wasn’t open—not like he would be with Suguru.
Not like he was with you.
If she must admit, the distance had been a bit of a sore spot for her.
---
The heavy silence stretched on for what felt like a long time, until finally the physician peeked out of the tent’s entrance, gesturing the group to come inside.
“How’s my wife?” Suguru asked.
Wife.
What a peculiar thing to call you now. Ayaka had not heard him once address you as his wife.
Did he feel responsible for your injury? Or perhaps it was all for the sake of performance. Regardless, it stirred an uncomfortable ache inside her chest.
“It’s a stroke of luck she didn’t lose her hand, General. The wound was deep—it cut through the tendons.”
Suguru remained composed, but it was clear he was bracing for what was to come.
“And how long will recovery take?”
“Weeks, at the earliest—assuming there’s no infection. But…” The physician hesitated. “I’m afraid, even once it heals, her hand will likely never regain full function.”
“N-No!” Yumi cried.
Silence fell over the tent.
No matter how much she had resented you, she had not wished this cruel fate upon you. It did not matter how you turned the tides of war, how many lives you had just saved, or how brilliant you were. Because you were now a diminished woman.
A wife with a maimed hand was an embarrassment, let alone the wife of the decorated King’s General—the Lady of the beloved House Geto. None would fault a man of Suguru’s standing for casting you aside; in fact, most would encourage it.
Honor would have demanded that he stay by your side, through better or worse, in sickness and in health. But the stigma of an incapacitated wife was a slow and eroding burden. Even the most devoted of men could not carry that weight forever.
If she were in your position, she would have wished death had claimed her instead. To survive was a far crueler fate.
To survive would have meant that you must face the world alone.
---
“The soldiers are all waiting at the dining hall,” Ayaka tried to dispel the uncomfortable heaviness. “Perhaps we should go first and let Lady Geto rest—”
“I will go,” you declared.
No one would have expected you to show up. After all, you had only narrowly escaped death.
“But Lady Geto, you must recover from your injury.” She tried to dissuade you.
“As you said, Ayaka-sama,” you smiled with a chilling edge. “Everyone is waiting. I do not wish for them to worry for my sake.”
Even now, you were stubborn, desperately clinging to the role of Lady Geto. For a woman of your intelligence, it was impossible that you had not already realized your dire fate, and perhaps you were trying to manipulate his guilt and wring every drop of sympathy he had remaining.
---
In the dining hall, the chatter and warmth of the space resumed. Your injury was an image Ayaka did not think she could ever rid herself of. She had never seen anything so gruesome in her life before, and coupled with the solemnity in the quarters earlier, it was utterly suffocating.
But that was all behind her now.
This was a welcomed distraction that everyone could benefit from. After the long day, she was beginning to feel lightheaded and famished, and she was certain everyone else was too.
“I heard that bastard targeted both Ayaka-sama and Lady Geto.” One of the soldiers seethed.
A crass remark in front of royalty no less, but she supposed at the end of the day soldiers were soldiers.
“He has no honor! Attacking two women like that.” Another rebuked.
You remained quiet the duration of the meal. It was evident that you struggled to work with your spoon with your non-dominant hand. Alas, it was only going to become more difficult.
“My father will hear of this and Takeda will be dealt with accordingly,” Ayaka reassured the crowd.
From her peripheral vision, she noticed Suguru’s hand move. He placed a piece of fish into your bowl. You had accepted it without protest; it seemed that you had finally gotten over your upset and begun making moves to maintain your position.
“Yes, you must let King Sato know; only he can bring swift justice for Lady Geto!” one of the captains advocated for you.
“You have my word,” Ayaka nodded. “After all, it was thanks to General Geto that I was out of harm’s way. I must make it up to Lady Geto.” She looked at Suguru with a reassuring smile.
“Please, Ayaka-sama, there is no need for you to do anything for your general’s wife,” you said with a smugness. “General Geto is an honorable soldier first. Despite his devotion to his wife, he cast his personal feelings aside to fulfill his royal duties by protecting your Highness. I am sure that any of our loyal soldiers here would have done the same.”
The soldiers nodded and hummed in agreement, which only added to her indignation.
“Geto-sama is a good man,” you added. “A man that I take pride in calling my husband.”
“Such high praises, Lady Geto!”
“They are simply truths.” You shook your head and smiled. “After all that my husband has sacrificed, I have little to offer in return—save for my unwavering devotion.”
Ayaka’s hands balled into her clothing under the table, trying to temper the embarrassment that had warped into rage. The thought of you reducing Suguru’s actions as mere duty was galling.
In that moment, she wanted to throttle you. Knock that irritating smile off your face. You were infuriatingly audacious—a vexatious and cunning woman indeed. An insolent woman who continued to ignore her place and sink her claws into more than she deserved.
You may have survived once, but you would soon learn that if you did not temper your arrogance, it would be your inevitable demise.
---
Much to her dismay, Suguru didn’t stay long in the dining hall. Haibara had interrupted soon after, whispering something into Suguru’s ear.
“There are some matters I need to attend to.” Suguru cleared his throat, giving his captains a knowing nod. He had looked to you once before leaving, but you had been oblivious to his gaze—distracted by the infantry commander’s drunken ramblings of his wife and children.
Shortly after Suguru had left, Ayaka had fallen uninterested in the dinner. She took a few slow bites—pacing her exit—so as not to be blatant that her interest only lay with Suguru.
“It has been a long day. Unfortunately, I am feeling rather exhausted and must excuse myself,” she said with practiced grace.
As she stood to leave, you followed suit to escort her back to her quarters.
Until the very end, you played your role as Lady Geto with perfection.
It was daunting, how impenetrable you were.
She had wished you’d ignored her. Given in to your anger and grievances. Lashed out at someone. Because then all could see how you were a vicious wolf in sheep’s skin. That it wasn’t a disguise that only she could see.
Your perfect performance only heightened her frustration. She couldn’t forfeit the night without telling you, for once, how she truly felt.
“You are indeed most fortunate, Lady Geto… to have someone like Suguru.”
With that, she retreated into her tent, without sparing you another glance.
---
Ayaka stared into the dark emptiness of the tent roof. Flashbacks of better days played relentlessly in her mind, the imagery so vivid, as though time had rewound itself and she was still the little girl all those years ago.
She fidgeted with a gold bangle that was hidden under her sleeve this entire journey. Before she had left the palace, under Hachi’s stern suggestion, she avoided wearing any lavish jewelry and fabrics—as it would have been highly indecorous given the nature of the negotiations. She had hidden it well to avoid being scolded.
It felt fitting to bring the gold bangle. After all, it was her most prized possession—a lucky talisman.
It had been a gift from Suguru when she came of age. She could still see the way he smiled at her under the starry skies, much like tonight’s, as he shyly presented her the gift and put it on her wrist with shaking hands.
“Congratulations, Ayaka-sama. I hope that one day I can be worthy of standing by your side,” the young Suguru said.
Back then, she had wishfully thought it was his quiet vow of taking her hand in marriage when the time was right.
But the right time never came.
Now, he was married to another woman—a woman he supposedly held no feelings for.
Yet, if that had been true, why did touching the bangle not give her the same comfort as it did before?
Instead, why did it feel like touching a cold relic of the past?
She had refused to believe it.
She had refused to believe that Suguru no longer loved her.
After tossing and turning, she knew it was all in vain. She couldn’t rid herself of the heaviness inside her chest, so she slipped out into the campsite for clarity.
A part of her wished she could cross paths with Suguru once more before she was set to return to the palace tomorrow morning.
---
“A-Ayaka-sama!” One of the infantry soldiers exclaimed.
She donned her usual warm smile. “Have you seen General Geto?”
The soldier briefly paused.
“General Geto is seeing through a private matter at the moment,” he replied, eyes constantly flickering behind her. “Shall I send word that you are looking for him?”
“If it is a private matter, I shall not interfere. I had only meant to bid him farewell and give him my sincere gratitude before I depart at sunrise.”
“Of course, Ayaka-sama. You are most gracious as ever.”
She gracefully turned around and began walking toward the opposite direction of the campsite. Her senses remained sharp and peeled for any signs of Suguru.
Just as she was about to abandon hope of finding him, a secluded tent on the edge of the campsite perimeter caught her eye. An eerie darkness surrounded it, but it was also the only place she had not yet searched. Ayaka’s heart began to beat violently against her chest—as though her instincts had cautioned her against advancing further.
But she ignored it.
As she encroached closer and closer, it became apparent someone was inside. It had taken her a moment to register it, but a low, disgruntled moan came from within.
“Answer me—”
It was Suguru’s voice.
“I… know… nothing you speak of,” Takeda’s voice responded, but it had lost all its original authority.
She snuck towards the tent, finding a small slit to peer inside. And what she witnessed shattered her understanding of the boy that once was, and the man he had become now.
Takeda was bloodied and battered, tied against a wooden stake. Two guards stood in stoic witness, one on each side of a large iron cage—which held the rest of the Eastern delegation. Chief Secretary Kawada watched helplessly while the rest of the delegation was silenced by fear.
Suguru had stripped himself of his military robes, clad only in a thin white linen. A sheen of sweat coated his face, the fabric stained with crimson splatters, which Ayaka could only surmise was Takeda’s blood.
In this moment, Ayaka understood the man before her was no King’s General, was not even the scion of House Geto.
It was far simpler, yet its simplicity revealed a glaring truth she refused to accept.
A man stripped of all titles and pretenses.
A man who was exacting revenge for the cruelty placed upon his wife.
“I ask again. Who supplied you with the inventory? And who else from the Eastern Regime is conspiring against us?”
“Why don’t you ask your wife, General? She had dug up my secret, surely she could dig up some more, but it won’t be just a hand she loses next time—”
Suguru’s fist connected to the traitor’s cheekbone with a deafening crack.
Once.
Twice.
Again.
And again.
She couldn’t recognize the man before her, like a frenzied animal that had only one unadulterated instinct to kill.
“Do not speak of her with your vile tongue.”
Takeda retched out blood, spitting out a tooth onto the ground. Ayaka covered her mouth, holding back the way her stomach lurched. Her eyes caught the white specks mixed with the blood on the floor.
They were teeth.
Not just one, but many of them littered the floor.
It had been over an hour since Suguru had left the dining hall; she didn’t want to imagine what else he had done to Takeda during this time.
“G-General Geto, i-if I may—” Kawada quivered.
“You will not.”
The chief secretary let out a small whimper as Suguru landed another blow, but eventually he mustered his courage again. “I am not advocating for this traitor, his demise will be inevitable. But please see reason—”
“And who afforded my wife reason?” He seethed.
Everyone fell silent. Even the guards seemed to have tensed at the sight of their general’s wrath.
Suguru calmly walked towards the table, hand hovering over a dagger. His fingertips grazed over the hilt, as though internally battling a dark urge.
Was he really going to do it?
Was he going to end Takeda right here?
She wasn’t sure what to believe anymore.
But his hand moved over to the copper basin instead, wringing out the cut linen. He began to scrub the blood off his hands, and then his face.
“Need I remind you, Chief Secretary,” he said. “If I had been unreasonable, it would not only be this cur tied at the stake. It would be all of you.”
“O-of course, General Geto. You are most gracious.”
“Do not be mistaken,” he corrected. “I have only chosen to conclude tonight as is, because I must make amends with my wife.”
At this point, it wasn’t clear if he could wash off the blood, given that the water had been completely saturated.
“Y-Yes… we do sincerely apologize about what happened to Lady Geto. Had we known what Takeda was conspiring, we would never—”
Suguru let out a low sigh.
“It is not your place to apologize.” He dropped the linen into the basin. “Only mine.”
At his words, her world of infinite starry skies crumbled to stardust. Yet in this moment, she was not afforded the time to process what had just transpired.
Sensing that Suguru was about to leave, Ayaka gathered herself up and quickly sprinted back to her quarters.
She had come for clarity, but only realized that now some clarities are gifts, and others are wounds.
---
Going to the Eastern Campsite had been a curse, because nothing had gone right since she returned. After hearing news of your great exploits and how you had turned the tides of war in the nation’s favor, instead of commending you, Sato had grown anxious.
So much so that all he could speak of in the weeks leading up to your appointment was you and House Geto.
Lady Geto.
Suguru’s wife. Lady Geto.
House Geto. Lady Geto. Suguru’s wife.
Ayaka had grown tired of hearing your name on everyone’s tongue.
Was it not enough that you antagonized her in the Campsite?
Must you also torment her within the confines of her own palace?
She couldn’t understand it, nor did she want to. Perhaps Sato did not wish to resolve the tension with the East through diplomacy, but was it so grave a mistake that he had to banish you to Izuma?
Then again, she had learned not to question it anymore. Her father was hypervigilant at best, and paranoid at worst.
Which was why she was relieved that Hayato was returning, because only he could temper the King’s erratic emotions.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood in the throne room in silence. Sato had a few ledgers sprawled across the table, though the quick successive flipping of pages revealed he was not actually focused on the material.
He was fidgeting.
Nervous.
Ayaka inwardly sighed. Hayato’s tardiness was always something that irked her. Some days it was more bearable, but tonight she had been in a particularly sour mood.
“He’s late,” Sato grumbled.
“You should be more concerned if he was on time, Father.” Ayaka couldn’t help but take a light jab at her brother.
“Hah. Have sons, they say,” Sato clicked his tongue and rested his head on a palm. “They only do as they please, and take what they please.”
It wasn’t new; she had heard the same complaint countless times from her father. He’d only ever said it out of annoyance, not that he actually meant it.
“Was it not you who taught us that the world was in the palm of one’s hands, Father?” A voice called out from behind.
A voice that brimmed with suave confidence, and was as charming as it was venomous.
“Hayato,” Sato said flatly.
Ignoring the King’s displeasure, he strode to Ayaka’s side.
“Sister,” Hayato nodded.
“Nii-sama, welcome home.” Ayaka lightly bowed.
“At least one of us is happy about my return.”
“Father is delighted as well; he’s just being cold because he missed you.”
“Ever the peacemaker you are,” he drawled. “Yet I am to understand that it was not you who brokered peace between the East, but… Lady Geto?”
Ayaka shot the Crown Prince a warning glare, which only further amused him.
“Enough,” Sato snapped. “You shall cease tormenting your sister.”
Hayato acquiesced without protest, but the smug smile on his lips remained. “Surely, Father—you did not summon me after my toilsome journey simply because you missed me. So… what vexes you?”
In truth, Ayaka was not sure why her father had been so eager to meet with Hayato as well. It was not the first nor the last time he would go on embassy. There was nothing particularly remarkable about this return.
Sato finally peeled his eyes from the ledger.
“Matters concerning the kingdom and your only sister are always of utmost importance, are they not?”
“Why certainly, Father,” he replied with hollow courtesy. “Such matters are as much your concern as they are mine.”
Even though the nature of the meeting supposedly had to do with her, she had not the faintest idea of what it was about. Throughout her life, she had believed it to be an act of love and protection. It had felt natural—that her father and brother had been involved in every decision and facet of her life. Almost everyone had a say and a right to voice their opinions.
All except her.
The tide of feelings she had learned to drown was slowly resurfacing.
Had she not gone to the campsite, she would have continued to live life as she always would.
Had it not been for you, she wouldn’t have felt so small. So inadequate. So full of doubt.
“As you know, the Eastern Empire carried out a despicable deed… we must not ignore such betrayal.”
“Then what do you suggest, Father?”
“Had it not been for Lady Geto’s interference, I would have declared war. After all, military retaliation would have rectified such an insult. It would serve as a reminder that they have yet to be ravaged only because we are merciful.”
“Her Grace is most intriguing.”
“Her Grace ought to know her place. It appears Suguru has grown soft where his wife is concerned.”
If only they had seen what she had witnessed in the interrogation tent that night.
“Suguru, soft? You and I both know he is most tenacious.”
“Then perhaps Her Grace is even more so,” Sato mirthlessly chuckled. “I should like to see how far tenacity takes one in Izuma.”
“Would Suguru truly go with her?” Ayaka blurted.
The two men looked at her as if it were a trivial question, fit only for a lovesick girl.
But it was not.
Suguru’s choice was simple on the surface. But it was often the simplest choices that were the most revealing.
To remain would mean he had aligned himself with the Crown, but you would be a social outcast. To go with you would mean that he would risk forfeiting his status within the royal court—a dangerous and harmful declaration that he had chosen you above the King.
Society would perceive Suguru a lesser man. A fool who had willingly gone into exile with a diminished wife. A foolish man who had allowed such a woman to dictate his fate.
“Is it not an honorable husband’s duty to be with his wife?” Sato replied. “My general is a man of honor, is he not?”
It was not an answer she expected, and from her father, no less. Under normal circumstances, her father would have demanded that his subjects remain by his side.
“He is.” Hesitation bled through her voice.
“Then he would know what he must do.”
Ayaka bit her lip, the pain grounding her to reality.
She loathed the possibility that he would relinquish his reputation, House Geto’s legacy, his pride, just for you.
Had Suguru truly become a fool for you?
“We are distracted,” Hayato interjected. “All this talk about House Geto is becoming tiresome. Let us not forget the crux of this meeting.”
Sato nodded.
“Our next step with the East is to annul the betrothal between Ayaka and Kotoyuki.”
Ayaka froze at the announcement, stunned with elation. She had prayed countless nights that somehow the marriage would not come to fruition. For all the trials and tribulations she had endured, the universe had finally rewarded her with this annulment.
“Bold move, Father.” Hayato’s interest returned. “And you are sure this would not tarnish sister’s standing in court?”
“You would see to it that it doesn’t, would you not?”
“Why, of course. I would never allow such humiliation to befall my dear sister,” he assured with absolute confidence. “But what of the East… has your ambition grown cold?”
“Of course not.” Sato clicked his tongue. “The East will be ours with or without a union. Better yet, Ayaka shall make an Empress elsewhere.”
It was clear she could not be spared even a moment of celebration or happiness.
But Ayaka supposed that this was only natural.
She stood in the throne room, a mere spectator of her own life, as two men dictated her fate while she could only respond with words of gratitude and a smile.
A smile that caged her resentment and disdain.
---
Ayaka walked silently beside Hayato after the meeting. It had been quiet—too quiet. Not even a rustle of the leaves, the chirping of cicadas, or footsteps of servants.
There had always been a children’s cautionary tale that when the world stills, it was because the gates of hell had opened. And that all must fall silent, lest they be plucked by demons. Ayaka never believed in such tales, but in recent days, she had become more inclined to believe that supernatural forces exist. Perhaps it was spurred by the overwhelming powerlessness she felt.
Fate.
Divinity.
Preordination.
Was her fate truly sealed?
Was this the life she was truly meant to live?
“Come, sister, you must tell me more of Her Grace,“ Hayato broke the silence.
Ayaka rolled her eyes.
Even though you were not here, your presence occupied every space and every tongue. Like vermin that refused to be extinguished.
“There is nothing worth noting about the woman,” she dismissed coldly.
Hayato hummed, holding onto a piece of parchment.
“Is that why I hear your dear Suguru had assumed the lowly role of an escort soldier?”
“It is only honorable that he sees her to Izuma.”
“And who is to say he will not stay? After all, you speak of him as honorable, but I hardly find him as such. I have known it since we were children. He may have his father’s looks, but he has his mother’s core. A man who often keeps to himself is no virtuous one—”
“Enough, nii-sama. I wish to hear no further of your baseless slander.”
“Your naivety—dear sister—may have been endearing when we were children, but now it is rather… disappointing.”
“You—!”
“Do not be quick to jump to conclusions,” he said sternly. “I do not say this to insult you. But take this as your older brother imparting wisdom to you. You must understand the heart of men.”
“You do not understand Suguru. Nor did you ever wish to.”
“Hah.” Hayato turned to Ayaka with galling confidence. “If that’s what you insist upon, then there is nothing I could say or do to persuade you. But do you truly think that Suguru is any different?” A twisted amusement flickered in his eyes. “Do you think he would have left his wife untouched?”
Ayaka’s face grew hot with anger and embarrassment at the prospect. Anger, because she loathed the thought of her lover being intimate with someone else. Embarrassment, because she had imagined countless times that it would have been her entwining with Suguru. But now, she couldn’t get that sickening image out of her head. How Suguru would have taken you on the night of your marriage. How he would have whispered sweet words into your ear while making love to you. How he would have vowed to love, honor, and cherish you.
She hated it.
She hated what she had become because of you.
Your marriage was loveless.
Yet, if that was the truth, then why?
Why was it that his gaze always searched for you?
Why was it that his lips smiled with pride at the briefest mention of you?
Why was it that his hands had become a weapon of violence for you?
Suguru had always been gentle despite his capability to fight. Controlled. Dignified. He had never once lost his temper, yet for you—he became a villain.
You forced him into something monstrous, someone she no longer recognized.
You buried her gentle Suguru.
“Tell me, sister, now that Father has annulled your betrothal—what is it you truly desire to do?”
“You know what I must do.” Her answer came out barely above a whisper.
“You fear Father, yet you do not see that he has grown senile and foolish. A madman that is always chasing shadows.”
“Must you speak of him so crassly?”
“Is he not?”
“Father has grown old, yes—but as we all do.”
He scoffed. “Such filial piety. Yet he sees you not as a daughter first, but as an ornamental pawn. Tell me, sister. Does it ever become tiresome affording him so much grace?”
She had resented her father. At times she had even resented Hayato for not defending her.
But above all, she had resented her fate—this life.
Yet she had been sitting in such resentment and disdain for so long that she no longer recalled the feeling because it had grown numb. Because there were things far more terrifying than relinquishing her own feelings, and that was confronting them.
To give in to her resentment would mean to acknowledge that her life had been nothing but a manipulation.
“What say you, if Her Grace and Suguru survive the harsh Izuma winter, we take it as the gods’ providence to pay them a visit? It will be your chance to seize your own fate.”
“You are most privileged, Hayato—to speak so callously of seizing one’s own fate.”
“You are mistaken, sister. I am not oblivious to the burdens placed upon you. But what is there to fear when I am by your side?”
Ayaka paused.
Hayato was not one to so readily extend a conciliatory gesture.
“Whatever do you mean, nii-sama?”
He leaned closer. The proximity left no room for doubt. Like father, like son—Hayato had always shared one identical trait with Sato—and that was their shared inability to mask delight when their schemes unfolded exactly as planned.
“The courts grow tired of father’s mental ailment. He is no longer fit to remain on the throne. It is time I claimed my birthright.”
Ayaka’s eyes widened at his declaration. “Does Father know of this? Has he agreed—”
“Whether he knows of it or not, do you believe he would see reason to relinquish his seat?”
The insinuation in Hayato’s words did not exactly surprise her, yet she found herself unable to speak. His eyes bore no anguish or remorse. She had always known her brother to be ambitious; she had always known that he vied for the throne. But she had not expected that he would be so brazen as to pluck it from their father’s hands.
“When I become Emperor, should you have no desire to become another nation’s empress, I will not impose it upon you. Should you wish a quiet life of unwed comfort, I will ensure it. Or... should you covet another man’s heart—whomever it is—it shall be yours.”
The air fell unnervingly heavy, the corridor walls held their breath.
The birth of another betrayal.
Another price to be paid in blood.
Another sin etched into its walls.
Once again, the palace became a silent accomplice, bearing witness to another tragedy.
An endless cycle of destruction.
“How… do you plan on doing it, nii-sama?” Her voice shook.
“Father fears an elusive shadow—a shadow from within our own borders. He destroys what he does not understand, but it is fear that blinds him. It is fear that has led him to his mental demise. I am not a coward like him. If such a shadow truly exists, I will find it and it will be mine.”
“The Merchant Guild…”
“You are informed, sister.”
“I have only heard him speak of it once, in passing.”
“Are you aware he suspects a subject within his own courts of having ties with the guild?”
Ayaka shook her head.
“Pity. I would have requested an audience with such a subject.”
“What if you only wound up chasing shadows, nii-sama? How do you know it exists at all?”
He looked at the parchment in his hand again, his thumb carefully grazing over the words as though it held all the answers to the universe. Ayaka could see the way the calculative maneuvers had begun to shift in his mind. At first, she was not sure why Hayato had been so fascinated by the parchment until she gave it a closer look.
Your Majesty,
By the time you receive this letter, I will have already made immediate haste for Izuma.
Forgive my impudence for not expressing my gratitude in person, as winter soon approaches, and I wish not to further delay my duties.
With this, I pledge to our people:
I vow to bring prosperity to the Northern lands.
I vow that my interests shall not be dictated by selfish desires.
I vow to defend Izuma and her people.
Her Grace, Lady of Izuma
“Should it prove it were only a figment of imagination,” he muttered. “Then I shall be its maker.”
Ayaka paused, unable to summon a reply, fidgeting with the bangle under her sleeve. It was a subconscious tendency she had adopted every time she felt uneasy, even more so when she had received word that Suguru was to marry.
“I urge you to think carefully, Ayaka. A new dawn approaches, and it will be up to you to decide if you wish to remain trapped in the past, or walk towards the future.”
It was not an outrageous thought that Hayato would eventually ascend the throne. And truer still that her father had been unfit to rule for quite some time. Yet a part of her had become anxious about what the palace would become once Hayato became king. Paranoia may have spurred her father’s cruelty, but her brother’s mind had always been clear. A man who was cruel simply because he could be was a kind of horror she did not want to imagine.
But if she thought more deeply on it…
Who was truly more cruel?
Hayato had promised her something that her father had never thought a moment to spare her. Something that had cost him nothing to give, but had cost her everything.
Freedom.
And now it may very well be within her reach.
She extended her hand. Her tongue had not yet dared to speak the desire in her heart.
“Nee-sama would be displeased to find another woman’s letter in your hands. Allow me to see to it.”
Hayato let his eyes drift to the letter, feigning contemplation. “The Crown Princess may be temperamental, but she is mine to deal with. Do not fret yourself over her, dear sister.”
Instead of surrendering the letter, he tucked it into the breast of his garment. He straightened himself and held Ayaka’s gaze for a moment; as though to assess if she was truly friend or foe.
He let out a small, satisfied hum. “Good night.”
Ayaka watched as he disappeared into the shadows.
Even in your absence, you had somehow intrigued Hayato, a man who hardly acknowledged anyone. She was certain that had she not been his only sister, he would not even spare a glance or waste a single breath on her.
She despised how you had intruded upon every aspect of her life.
Your gaze, your voice, the way you carried yourself.
The way even fate seemed to have yielded to you.
She despised how everything she had coveted had already been yours. And the worst part of it all was that she knew that deep down, such things did not move you.
She despised it.
She despised you—
A sharp, metallic clang pulled her from her thoughts. Something had clattered onto the ground. Her eyes slowly dropped to the floor.
Under the moonlight, two halves of a golden bangle glared back at her.
A frisson ran down her spine, and the world around her spun as an unspeakable thought crossed her mind.
She let out a soft, shaky chuckle. Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face as trembling fingers grazed the broken fragments.
Takeda’s only mistake was that he did not kill you.
Perhaps the flower was as rotten as its soil.
a/n #2: It's been a long time coming. Firstly, I'd like to thank all of you who stuck around and waited so patiently. It's been incredibly heartwarming to see how so many of you continue to give love and support to this series. And despite my prolonged absence, all of you have been so respectful and understanding. When I say this series has found its way to the best readers one could ever ask for, I truly mean it. I'm slowly recovering from the creative drought and burnout I've been going through, but I intend to see this series through! Even if I am not putting out work, please trust that behind the scenes I'm always thinking about it and waiting for the right inspirations to strike. I also tried to go back and review who wanted to be part of the tag list as of Arc 2. I'm sorry if I missed anyone, but you could always give me a nudge if I did. If you want to drop out of the tag list as well, please let me know (I know it's been quite some time and I don't want to jumpscare anyone). Once again, thank you so much. x
So what if you keep having to make trips down to the IT department for 'simple' issues, what if the love of your life is the cute guy with the eyebags and the massive hoodie?
//in honour of me being put through humiliation ritual after humiliation ritual on my first day. this is written out of pure desperation
"I'm so sorry, the excel sheet just won't open and I'm meant to be working on this today and I must be such a bother right now, aren't I?"
Approaching the desk, you sigh as you muster the most pitiful expression you can. With your computer in your grasp, you've come all the way to the IT department for one thing.
Well two things but that excel sheet isn't that important in all honesty.
"I really don't mean to disturb you, especially so close to lunch but one of the managers sent this over for a last check and now it won't even open." You lean closer towards Yuta, tucking your hair behind your ear as you send him a side-long glance.
The tips of his ears burn, he flinches yet he doesn't move away, stammering, "Y-yeah, don't worry about it. It's pretty normal if you have a lot of links. This will be a quick fix."
"Really?" You smile, eyes focusing on him rather than your poor computer. "Here I thought my boss was going to have my head. You're a life saver, you know?"
He only flushes harder at your little comment. All he can muster is a muttering too soft for your ears and despite that, he starts to work on your computer, pulling up this and that and the taskbar for whatever little predicament you got yourself into.
That's right, you've come here for one thing and one thing only, the IT department's very own Okkotsu Yuta. He's apparently been scouted a while ago, and ever since most of the IT systems in use have been completely streamlined. And sure, he's cute with those large eyes and almost blank expression he's got on most of the time— like he's ten miles away from earth— but you're more interested in just how good he looks when he's in his element.
He's bunched up the sleeves of his white hoodie, exposing his lean forearms to the air-conditioning and your wandering eyes. They're so smooth you're almost jealous, and as he waits for some program to load, you catch a hint of the outline of his veins, soft blues and greens highlighted by the fluorescent lighting. Even his hands are pretty, large and bony, gliding across the keyboard you struggled to adjust to with ease.
He always looks so small drowning in baggy hoodies and pants, but ever since that fateful day at pickle ball, every time you catch a hint of something more, your heart feels like it's just about to bust through your chest.
His eyes sharpen and from the corner of your eyes, the excel sheet is already nearly up and running. Despite how quickly he sorted out your little predicament, you catch the prideful little scrunch on his nose.
No matter how cute he is, you internally deflate. You thought this one would buy you a little more time to ogle him, but these 5 minutes of staring felt like nothing more than a second.
Gingerly, he hands you back your computer, your fingers brush for just a moment.
With a half-hearted look around, you let a soft sigh leave your lips, "Looks like all your colleagues have headed off, I'm really sorry about holding you up."
"Oh its fine, its fine! Most of them are just getting take out anyways."
Just as you turn to leave, he calls out for you, "Uhm, if you don't mind, do you want to grab lunch together?" Then just as quickly, Yuta rushes to explain himself, his words getting faster and faster, "We don't have to! I just thought you haven't had lunch either and there's this restaurant nearby that does really good rice bowls!"
A smile plays at your lips and the corners of your eyes crinkle together.
you can't tell me post-canon Yuuta "has too little interest in himself" Okkotsu EVER bothers to cut his hair when he's out on missions... but for some reason, everyone around him is always very quick to help out whenever he returns.
toge “we don’t argue, my girl tells me shut up and i do” inumaki ᝰ.ᐟ fluff, fem!reader
the confusion was only there for a moment when the group of guys you were talking to after lab suddenly straightened in posture, stiff as boards, turned on their heels and walked off like they’d been summoned by some chant. right in the middle of your conversation.
toge was making his way through the courtyard and to you, his ever gorgeous girlfriend, when he’d noticed one of the guys you were speaking with was eyeing you in a way that wasn’t friendly enough for his liking.
a man of little words he was, but he used his voice when he deemed necessary. and this was definitely neccesary.
jealous as ever with a petulant pout to match, he’d simply muttered two words that solved his little problem in an instant.
“walk away.”
and now you’re turned around to see your fluffy haired boyfriend inconspicuously zipping his collar back up over his tattooed mouth before he tilts his head at you in greeting, corners of his eyes crinkled in lieu of an innocent smile.
“kelp!” he chirps, a possessive hand coming to slide around your waist until you’re jabbing your finger into the apex of his chest, hard.
“did you just do what i think you did?”
he tilts his head. then quietly coughs and your jaw drops. fuck.
“that was you, wasn’t it?”
his eyebrows raise in question as if he has no idea what you could possibly be referring to.
“bonito flakes?”
he shrinks a bit when your eyes narrow at him knowingly.
“don’t lie to me, toge.”
his arms flail out instantly, stiff and straight as if they can help him in the defense of his actions. he tries his best to explain what the situation looked like from his perspective.
“tuna! caviar, salmon cod roe!”
your hand comes up to unzip his collar before you gently grab his jaw, his words muddled and lips mushed together as you hold his face.
you guys stare at each other like that for a few long seconds, his adams apple jumping when he swallows, lashes kissing his cheeks when he blinks rapidly because now he’s genuinely a little scared.
“toge.”
“salmon.” his answer is immediate.
“you cannot interrupt my conversations simply because you feel like it—“
“mustard leaf—“
“i’m not done talking.”
his mouth closes immediately. he looks like a puppy being scolded as you hold him in front of you, his shoulders drooping and pout forming the best it can between your fingers. he nods, begrudgingly, but it’s there and that’s enough for you to continue. he listens so well.
“i can handle myself, okay? we were only talking because i helped them with some homework answers. if someone’s openly flirting with me, i’ll tell them off. you know i will.”
his eyes drift to the side and you can tell he feels bad, hands stuffed in his pockets and nose crinkling like he’s smelled something he doesn’t like. you bring his gaze back with a little nudge.
“blink twice if you understand.”
he does as he’s told, and you soften because you can never be annoyed with him for very long. you know he hears the gossip, people talking about how you deserve someone better than him, as if they know anything about your relationship. as if you’d ever believe there’s anyone better than him. they just don’t understand the connection you two have and they don’t have to, because you don’t care.
“there’s no need to worry, okay? everyone knows you’re my boy, toge.”
his cheeks redden as you smile up at him, batting those pretty lashes in the way that always makes his heart float and his insecurities vanish. his heavy stare drops to your lips, violet eyes clinging to them because he really wants to kiss you right now and he wonders if you’ll let him. you hold his face with both hands now, thumbs dusting over his facial markings.
“my protective, strong, incredibly handsome sweet boy that i’m sooo lucky to have.” he’s like putty in your hands at this point, heart beating faster with each trait you add, demeanor melting into something sickeningly saccharine as he leans into your palm.
“salmon?” he asks.
you can’t help the roll of your eyes, giggling when you confirm, “yes, baby, really. i can never stop talking about you.”
he’s closer to you now, neck craning to reach your lips, eyes already half shut and head swimming with the thought of you. his voice is low and hopeful when he asks for permission.
“mustard leaf?”
you’re standing on your toes now, hands fisted at his collar to tug him closer. head tilted and lips brushing against his expectantly as you wait for him to kiss you.
thinking ab turning yuta out cause yummm ᝰ.ᐟ 18+ mdni
“are-“ yuta swallows, his legs moving to make room for your body. “are you sure about this?” his voice is hoarse when he asks, nervous gaze meeting your lust-filled one.
you sink to your knees between his strong thighs and his tongue darts out to dampen his chapped lips while dark eyes trail the hand that caresses down his tensed abdomen, all the way to his waistband.
your hand.
the corner of your lip turns up into a small smirk and you tilt your head, casting him a lidded glance. “why wouldn’t i be, yuta?” you coo, fingers breaking past the hem of the fabric that hides him. the way you roll his name past your lips making him whine.
his lips split to speak as he sinks further into the couch cushions and you take note of the way his chest stutters out an empty answer when you start to tug his boxers down as if access to his body is your birthright.
he lifts his hips anyway.
his length springs out from its restraint, buoyantly slapping against his stomach from the force of your movements, making him jump.
“i-i’ve never done this before…”
a smile overtakes your lips and you respond by splaying your soft hands over his toned quads, tenderly rubbing the muscle there to calm his nerves. just that little touch makes precum ooze down his shaft, his lashes fluttering. he’s surprised at how hard he is and you’re surprised at how big he is—with a pretty blush-toned tip and a long vein down the side to match.
but he can’t help being nervous. not when he’s silently pined after you for so long. too shy to court you or actually make a move, constantly hiding behind excuse after excuse. surely his studies would leave him far too busy to even think of messing around with a girl, let alone date one, so he tried his best to ignore that nagging feeling in his chest.
but you saw right through his attempt at hiding his little crush on you, if the long glances searing through the side of your skull everyday during lecture were anything to go by. or across the dining hall while you talked with your friends, where you’d caught him a few times, eyes flitting to see his already on you. a grin and a fluttering wave of your fingers was all it took to have him blushing like a schoolboy, his head dropping down in an instant. little did you know, he’s jerked off to the photos on your instagram an embarrassing amount of times so it’s no wonder he could barely keep eye contact.
you found his timidity adorable, loved it, even. he was always so nice, so helpful. giving you his notes to copy off of when you missed a lecture without you even asking, offering to carry your books for you whenever they looked heavy. nearly tripping over his own feet to rush in front of you and open the door to the classroom so you didn’t have to lift a finger. it’s something about sweet, shy boys who are just aching to be ruined that does it for you.
you’d told him you needed some extra help for the upcoming exam, asked if he wanted to come over to your place to have a study session. he was more than happy to oblige in your seemingly innocent request and barely let you finish asking before he blurted ‘yes’. and now, here you have him on the couch of your apartment, his colored coded notebook tossed to the ground and his cock out. he’s certain he had a wet dream about this exact scenario a couple days ago.
“calm down, pretty boy. just relax, okay?” you smile up at him through dense lashes, having to stop yourself from giggling at how quickly he flinches when your fingers curl around his attention-hungry erection. he’s a bundle of nerves and all you can think about is how much fun you’re going to have unwinding him.
“then stop looking at me like tha-that,” he stutters through gritted teeth. one hand used to prop himself up, he brings the backside of the other up to his mouth in a fist. he has to resist the intense urge to bite it in an effort to quiet the obscene noise he almost makes when your tongue flicks out to lick the salty-sweet essence off his tip.
he’s red in the face, blushing that of something fierce as you keep eye contact with him through fluid movements. yuta thinks he’s on the verge of a heart attack with how hard it’s slamming against his ribs.
“we can stop anytime you’d like, y’know.” you remind him sweetly.
gentle strokes to his cock threaten to crumble his composure, your wrist curling in a half-circular motion that drives him wild. you use your thumb to brush the underside of his most sensitive area below his tip and a broken moan fights its way past pursed lips, rumbling his chest as he tries his hardest not to curl inward and away from the touch he craves so.
hell, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your other hand has an iron-clad grip on his hip because you already know how fidgety he gets, and honestly, you’re making him feel way too damn good for him to tell you to stop.
his brain is absolute mush at this point, but he still manages to get it out, maybe a little too eagerly.
“n-no! i… i want to.”
you’re teasing him on purpose and he can tell. he’s only done this with you once before, and yet you already know how to touch him, how fast to stroke him, how hard. he’s dumbfounded and honestly a bit embarrassed at how reactive he is to your minuscule touches. you’ve barely gotten started. why the hell doesn’t it feel like this when he does it himself?
he watches you with slightly widened eyes, and you can’t really tell if the look in them is one of astonishment at how quickly you can have him writhing, or fear due to how easily you can do so. Probably a mix of both.
after a few more kitten licks to the throbbing appendage , you can’t bear to hear his whining and whimpering any longer without feeling sorry for him. your wet, sappy lips spread around the angry head of his cock and draw him in, cheeks hollowing out so the inside of your mouth drags against his veins tortuously.
“h-hahhh,” the warmth of your mouth has his eyes nearly rolling back. he had no idea this would feel even better than the first time. his balls tense (along with the rest of his body) the second you seal your mouth around him and you can tell he stopped himself from cumming right then and there.
his mind is sent into a haze instantly and slowly you lower your head, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly can. having him a little over halfway into your mouth, you can already feel your eyes watering so your hand takes the rest of what you can’t and it moves in sync with the bobbing of your head.
yuta sighs, head dipping back when you take his length into your throat, eyes pinching shut while his hands crumple into tight fists at his sides— a method to keep himself in control, a futile one, at that.
his breathing is shallow but it only makes you pull your cheeks in harder, increasing the suction of your sucking as well as the speed. You’re determined to make a mess out of him.
he’s holding back and you can tell, trying to quiet and shrink himself. he’s always been so shy and reserved, so it’s no shock that even now, while the two of you are completely alone, he’s still won’t let himself relax fully.
you pull off him with an audible pop, and his head instantly snaps back up at the sudden loss of contact. spit pools in your mouth before it’s dribbling down your puckered lips and spilling onto his swollen tip, and you smile up at him when he mewls for you to please keep going, melting further into his seat as you stroke him.
your gaze is sweltering. your eyes have such a hold on him that he can’t help but stare right back at you, chest heaving, face flustered and all.
“you’re a good boy, right, yuta?” the question comes with an almost mocking tilt of your head, but you continue to tug at his cock nonetheless. blinking up at him as if you’re unaware of how difficult it is for him to form words while he’s trying to focus on not covering your face in a sheet of white.
he gulps, nodding his head fervently, an impatient shift of his hips, up and into your hands following afterwards. “y-yes, yes, hmmnn—i’m whatever you want me to be. i’m a good boy.” he forces out in one fast breath, his leg jerking slightly at the feeling of your fingers brushing lower near his base. “just—hngh—please… keep going.”
you hum, the sound of it indicating that you don’t believe him. you dip your head down, leisurely dragging the flat of your tongue against his balls in a derisively slow manner and he almost cries at that, an open-mouthed kiss set upon one before you’re stating your demand. “then let me hear you.”
“s-shit,” he chokes out almost instantly at the new feeling, basically bucking his hips up into your hand at this point. you purr in approval and engulf his shaft back into your mouth, reveling in the throaty moans that waft past his trembling lips. they’re laced with need and music to your ears.
if your mouth wasn’t full of him, you would’ve gasped when he suddenly grabbed onto a handful of your hair with a firm hold. actively surrendering to the fight against his own pleasure, he lets out a wanton moan and a string of curses as he thrusts his cock into your mouth. yuta barely swears but it seems like it’s all he can do today. his movements are urgent, no set pace as he chases the orgasm he can feel brewing in the pit of his stomach.
“m’sorry,” he pants out in response to the sound of you gagging due to how deep he’s forcing his cock, though the increased force of his movements heavily contradict the genuine remorse in his voice. he’s so greedy with you, he knows. but plunging his length into the back of your throat feels too good for him to try and reason with himself.
you halt your movements and let him do the work seeing as he’s enjoying himself so much. you’re so proud of him. the sting of your scalp should probably concern you, but it only makes your thighs rub together and your core tingle with a newfound need that would later be quelled with his avid assistance.
“f-fuck, your throat feels so good,” he groans out, both of his hands cradling your head now as he uses your mouth to his satisfaction. one of your hands drop down to rub quick circles over your clothed pussy, anything to soothe the ache of your desperate walls fluttering.
the noises flowing so freely from the man above only rile you up more, and you’re restless to make him cum so he can hurry up and clean up the mess growing between your thighs. you can’t help but moan around him, and the muffled vibration against his length is all that’s needed to send him over the edge.
there isn’t enough time to warn you before your mouth floods with a wave of white, and his chest heaves from his weighted breaths as he empties his hot seed directly down your throat. you swallow as fast as you can, struggling to keep up with the hot spurts that shoot out and coat your tongue. he’s never came this much before, that he’s sure of.
your squeal of surprise is stifled when his hands push your head down as far as it can go, the tip of your nose ghosting the soft patch of hair at his pelvis while his hips sputter out short, sporadic thrusts to ensure you take every drop of him. blinded by his own surge of ecstasy, he quickly comes to when a choked cough forces its way from your chest, causing his own cum to leak out past your lips and onto his balls.
he huffs, hands immediately releasing their hold as he lets you come up for air and apologizes more times than you can count with that oh so sweet look he gets in his eyes. you gasp and reel back, lips swollen and coated with a mix of your saliva and his seed.
he watches with a dazed look as you clean them off with a quick swipe of your tongue, and when you swoop down and languidly lick what you couldn’t swallow off his hot skin he groans.
“oh my god…” hand over his mouth, he drops his head back and gulps like he’s scared of how you managed to pull such a reaction out of him. and with the look you’re giving him, maybe he should be.
batting your lashes, you kiss at his cock as it twitches against your flushed cheek and his head pops back up when you tease him with a hum,
𝜗ৎ pairing : yuta x fem!reader ⟡ ݁ ₊ . 𑣲 word count : 5,716 𑣲 genre : fluffy, romance ₊ ˚ ⊹ ᰔ 𑣲 content contains : pregnancy, implied sex, yuta and reader try to get freaky, soft angst (w/comfort), pregnancy complications, hospital, and a cat. ⋆ . ˚
. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓊆ྀི it’s just a street𓊇ྀི ⋆ ˙ ⟡ .
the house still smelled a little new.
not in a bad way—not like paint or chemicals—but in that faint, almost invisible way where the wood hadn’t fully settled into their lives yet, where the walls were still learning their laughter, where the floors hadn’t memorized the exact rhythm of their footsteps. it had been a year, and yet somehow, it still felt like something gentle and growing, like the house itself was stretching into them.
you liked that.
you liked that it felt like something you and yuta were building together.
the soft hum of the kitchen light filled the quiet as you moved back and forth between the stove and the table, placing down dishes one by one with careful, habitual movements. the plates matched—finally. the glasses too. even the cutlery had a satisfying weight to it now, not like the mismatched, half-bent pieces you both used to own when things were… tighter.
three years of marriage.
a year in this house.
and now—stability. comfort. warmth.
a small, quiet life that felt almost too good sometimes.
from the living room, you could hear the faint rustle of movement—pages turning, maybe. yuta had been sitting on the couch for a while now, something resting in his lap, though you hadn’t really checked what it was. every now and then, the cat would chirp or shuffle, claws lightly clicking against the hardwood as it wandered aimlessly between rooms like it owned the place.
(which, to be fair, it did.)
you smiled to yourself, adjusting one of the plates just slightly so it lined up better with the others.
“dinner’s almost ready,” you called softly, not loud enough to break the calm, just enough to let the words drift.
there was a pause.
then—
“…mm.”
his response came quiet, thoughtful. not distracted—just… somewhere else.
you didn’t think much of it.
comfortable silence had always been your thing.
it settled around you both easily, like something familiar slipping over your shoulders, warm and weightless at the same time. there was no need to fill it, no pressure to speak just for the sake of it. you existed together in it, and that was enough.
you carried the last dish to the table, setting it down with a soft clink.
and then—
a sigh.
soft. long. deliberate.
you paused for half a second, glancing toward the doorway, but you didn’t turn fully.
“…yeah?” you hummed back, almost instinctively, voice light as you reached for the napkins. “what’s up?”
another pause.
longer this time.
you could practically feel him thinking.
“…i’ve been… thinking about something,” yuta said slowly.
you nodded to yourself, still focused on folding a napkin just right. “mm, that sounds dangerous.”
“…hey.”
you smiled a little. “sorry, go ahead.”
he shifted—there was a faint creak from the couch, followed by the soft thump of something being set aside. the cat padded into the kitchen then, tail high, weaving between your legs before circling once near the table.
“…you ever think,” he started again, quieter now, “that it might be nice to… have something else around here?”
you blinked, glancing down at the cat as it meowed expectantly at you.
“…we already have something else around here,” you said, nudging it gently with your foot. “and she’s already spoiled enough.”
“…not—” he hesitated. “not like that.”
you hummed, misreading him completely as you reached for the food again. “ohhh. you want another one.”
“…another one?” he echoed.
“yeah,” you said, completely serious. “like a kitten. or—oh my god, wait—are you thinking about a dog? because i told you, if we get a dog, you’re the one waking up early, not me.”
there was a very long silence.
you didn’t notice.
you were too busy mentally planning what kind of dog he’d pick, already picturing something soft and clingy that would follow him around the house like a shadow.
“…i don’t think,” yuta said slowly, “you’re… understanding what i mean.”
you finally paused, turning your head just slightly toward the living room, brows pulling together in mild confusion.
“…not a dog?” you asked.
“…not a dog.”
“…okay.” you turned back to the table, processing. “so… what? a bird? absolutely not. i am not living with something that screams at 3 a.m.”
“…no, not—”
“a fish?” you continued, fully committed now. “because i feel like you’d get emotionally attached to a fish way too fast, and then if it dies—”
“it’s not a pet.”
you stilled.
just for a second.
the quiet shifted—not broken, just… different now. softer, but with something underneath it.
you slowly turned around this time, fully facing him.
yuta was standing just at the edge of the kitchen now, one hand lightly resting against the wall like he hadn’t even realized he’d walked in. his hair was a little messy, like he’d been running his hands through it while thinking, and his expression…
gentle.
but nervous.
“…oh,” you said, softer now. “then what are you talking about?”
he looked at you for a moment.
really looked at you.
and then he exhaled quietly, shoulders relaxing just a little, like he’d finally decided to stop circling around it.
“…i was thinking,” he said, voice careful but warm, “that maybe… we could have a baby.”
the words landed softly.
no drama. no rush.
just… there.
you blinked.
once.
twice.
your brain, very helpfully, decided to replay the last five minutes of conversation all at once.
another one.
something else around here.
not a pet.
you stared at him.
“…a baby?” you repeated, like you needed to hear it again to make sure it was real.
yuta nodded slightly, almost shy now, his gaze dipping for just a second before returning to you.
“yeah,” he murmured. “a baby.”
you looked around the kitchen instinctively, like there was suddenly going to be one sitting there on the counter.
“…you meant a baby this whole time?” you asked.
“…yes.”
“…not a dog.”
“…not a dog.”
“…not a fish.”
he huffed a quiet laugh, the tension easing just a little. “not a fish.”
you stared at him for another second.
and then—
you laughed.
soft at first, surprised, a little breathless, like the idea had caught you off guard in the most unexpected way.
“yuta,” you breathed, bringing a hand up to your face. “i thought you were trying to convince me to get another cat.”
“i figured,” he admitted, smiling faintly.
you shook your head, still laughing under your breath, the sound filling the room in a way that made everything feel warmer somehow.
but then…
it settled.
the laughter faded into something softer.
your eyes found his again.
“…a baby,” you repeated, quieter now.
he nodded.
there was no pressure in it. no expectation.
just a quiet hope.
“we don’t have to,” he added quickly, stepping a little closer. “i just—i was thinking about it, and… i don’t know. things are… good right now. we’re okay. better than okay. and i just thought…”
he trailed off, searching for the right words.
“…it might be nice,” he finished softly.
the house was quiet again.
but it wasn’t the same quiet as before.
this one felt… full.
you looked at him—really looked at him this time—and something in your chest shifted, warm and deep and a little overwhelming.
three years.
a home.
a life.
and now…
this.
you glanced down at the table you’d set so carefully, then back at him.
“…you’re serious,” you said gently.
“i am,” he replied.
you exhaled slowly, your shoulders relaxing as the idea settled into you, not all at once, but piece by piece.
“…you want a baby,” you murmured.
“with you,” he said, without hesitation.
that made your breath catch just slightly.
of course.
of course it did.
you stepped toward him then, closing the small space between you, your hand finding his without thinking, fingers sliding into place like they always did.
“…you’re lucky i love you,” you mumbled, though your voice was soft, fond.
he smiled a little, squeezing your hand.
“i was hoping that would help my case.”
you huffed a quiet laugh, leaning into him just slightly, your forehead brushing his shoulder.
“…i can’t believe i thought you were talking about a fish.”
“to be fair,” he murmured, “you were very passionate about it.”
“because i thought you were about to emotionally bond with a goldfish.”
he laughed then—soft, warm, the sound settling into the walls like it belonged there.
and somehow…
it did.
everything did.
even this.
you tilted your head slightly, glancing up at him again, your expression softer now, more thoughtful.
“…we can talk about it,” you said quietly.
not a yes.
not a no.
but something real.
something open.
and yuta—gentle, patient yuta—just nodded.
“yeah,” he said. “we can.”
and in the quiet that followed, standing there in your kitchen with your hand in his, the idea didn’t feel so sudden anymore.
it felt like something that had been waiting for you both to notice it.
and well… it got noticed.
it wasn’t eight and a half months later the way people usually tell it.
no long, drawn-out “we talked all night and made a careful decision” kind of story. no slow planning, no calendars spread across the table, no hesitant what-ifs stretching into morning.
it was supposed to be a discussion.
you both had every intention of sitting down after dinner that night, maybe curled up on the couch, your legs draped over his, voices soft as you talked about timing and readiness and all the things people usually talk about when they’re about to change their lives forever.
but instead—
you couldn’t stop looking at him.
it was something small at first. the way his sleeves were pushed up while he washed the dishes. the quiet focus on his face. the way he kept glancing at you like he had something on his mind but didn’t want to rush you.
and then it wasn’t small anymore.
it was everything.
the warmth in your chest, the way your body leaned toward him without thinking, the sudden, overwhelming need to be close—to touch, to feel, to have him.
you didn’t know why.
not in that moment.
but yuta did.
of course he did.
because yuta—gentle, thoughtful, terrifyingly attentive yuta—had been quietly keeping track of things you barely even noticed yourself. little patterns. dates. changes in your mood, your energy, your body.
he knew.
and he didn’t say anything.
he just looked at you the way he always did—soft, a little shy, completely in love—and when you reached for him first, when you closed the space between you with something breathless and certain…
he didn’t stop you.
he never would.
and somehow—
it only took that one night.
yuta liked to pretend he wasn’t proud of it.
he really did.
he would hide it behind soft smiles and gentle deflections, shake his head a little if you teased him about it, act like it wasn’t something he thought about at all.
but sometimes…
sometimes you’d catch it.
in the way his chest lifted just slightly when someone mentioned how far along you were. in the quiet, pleased hum he’d make under his breath when he rested his hand over your stomach. in the way his eyes softened with something deeper—something almost awed—every time he looked at you.
like he still couldn’t believe it.
like he couldn’t believe he did that.
and maybe—just a little—
he was proud.
you didn’t mind.
not when he’d been… this.
perfect didn’t even feel like a big enough word for it.
he oiled your belly every night with slow, careful hands, like it was something precious—like you were something precious. he’d kneel at your feet after long days, gently massaging away the ache without you even having to ask, his touch patient, unhurried, like he had nowhere else to be.
he bought you clothes that actually felt good on your changing body, soft fabrics that didn’t irritate your skin, loose fits that made it easier to breathe. and when you stood in front of the mirror, unsure, adjusting something for the fifth time—
he was always right there.
telling you how radiant you looked.
how beautiful you were.
like he meant it every single time.
because he did.
he helped you get dressed when bending became harder, carefully guiding your arms through sleeves, steadying you without making you feel incapable. he learned how to do your hair—clumsy at first, fingers fumbling through strands until he got it right, until he could braid and smooth and pin things into place with quiet concentration.
sometimes he’d even try your makeup.
not perfectly.
but gently.
like everything else he did.
he took over the kitchen completely, making sure you ate properly, learning what you could and couldn’t stand, adjusting recipes without complaint. when certain smells started making you nauseous, he didn’t hesitate—he switched detergents, cleaning products, even the soap in the bathroom, anything that might make it easier for you.
and when it didn’t help—
when you were kneeling on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night, body trembling, stomach turning—
he was there.
holding your hair back.
rubbing slow circles into your back.
whispering soft reassurances like you weren’t falling apart right in front of him.
he didn’t flinch.
he didn’t pull away.
he just stayed.
even when you were embarrassed.
even when you laughed weakly afterward, apologizing for things you couldn’t control—like the gas that slipped out unexpectedly, the way your body changed in ways that felt unfamiliar and sometimes humiliating—
yuta would just laugh softly with you.
never at you.
always with you.
like none of it made you any less beautiful in his eyes.
if anything…
it made him love you more.
and somehow—
he balanced all of that with being a sorcerer.
late nights, unpredictable calls, the quiet weight of a world that still needed him.
but he always came back.
always.
and now…
it was just another evening.
or at least, it was supposed to be.
the house was dim, wrapped in that soft, golden quiet that came just after sunset. the air felt still, calm in a way that usually settled your nerves, but tonight—
your body wasn’t letting you enjoy it.
you shifted on the couch, fingers gripping the fabric beneath you as another wave rolled through your abdomen, tighter this time, sharper.
“yuta…” your voice came out strained, barely above a whisper.
he was there immediately.
he always was.
“hey,” he murmured, kneeling in front of you, hands already finding yours. “it’s okay. i’m right here.”
you squeezed his hand instinctively, your breathing uneven as the discomfort peaked.
“it hurts…”
“i know,” he said softly, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “but remember what the doctor said? it’s normal. just grab my hand—yeah, like that—and breathe with me, okay?”
he guided you through it, his voice steady, grounding.
“in… and out… slow, you’re doing good…”
you followed him as best you could, focusing on his voice, on the warmth of his hands, on the way he never once let you feel like you were facing it alone.
and slowly…
it passed.
your body relaxed again, tension easing out of your muscles as you slumped back against the couch, exhausted.
“…okay,” you breathed.
“yeah,” he whispered, brushing a hand over your hair. “you did so good.”
you let your eyes close for a second, just listening to him, feeling him there.
then, quietly, he stood.
“stay here,” he said gently. “i’ll be right back.”
you didn’t argue.
you couldn’t.
a minute later, he returned with a familiar bottle, already opened, pressing it into your hands.
kombucha.
you let out a weak, teary laugh.
“you’re obsessed,” he teased softly.
“don’t start,” you mumbled, already taking a sip.
you’d been hooked since your second trimester—something about it just worked, and yuta, of course, made sure there was always some in the fridge.
you drank slowly, your hands still a little shaky, eyes stinging from the lingering discomfort.
“…yuta,” you whispered after a moment.
“yeah?”
“…sit with me.”
he didn’t hesitate.
he slid onto the couch beside you, immediately pulling you closer, adjusting you carefully so you could rest against him comfortably. his fingers slipped into your hair without thinking, gently combing through it in slow, soothing motions.
“i’ve got you,” he murmured.
you melted into him, the tension leaving your body piece by piece under his touch.
“you’re so strong,” he continued softly, almost like he was talking more to himself than to you. “you’ve been handling all of this so well… i’m really proud of you.”
your eyes burned again, but not from pain this time.
“…stop,” you whispered, though there was no real protest in it.
he smiled faintly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.
“you’re beautiful,” he added quietly. “you know that, right?”
you huffed weakly. “i feel like a mess.”
“you’re not,” he said immediately. “not even a little.”
his fingers kept moving through your hair, steady, comforting, grounding.
and for a moment—
everything felt calm again.
safe.
soft.
until—
something shifted.
not the pain.
something else.
you lifted your head slowly, looking at him.
really looking at him.
the warmth in your chest came back, sudden and overwhelming, curling low and deep in a way that made your breath catch.
“…yuta,” you said, quieter now.
he blinked, a little surprised by the change in your tone. “yeah?”
you didn’t answer right away.
instead, you moved.
swinging a leg over him, settling yourself carefully in his lap, your hands finding his shoulders as you leaned in, pressing your lips to his with sudden urgency.
he froze for half a second—just enough to process it—
and then melted into it.
“hey—” he murmured softly against your lips, a hint of breathless surprise in his voice. “are you—are you okay?”
“i want you,” you whispered, words warm, insistent, your forehead resting against his. “really bad.”
his hands came up instinctively, steadying you, concern flickering in his expression even as something softer, deeper, responded to you.
“…right now?” he asked gently.
you nodded, already leaning back in, your kisses more desperate this time, your fingers curling into his shirt.
and yuta—
yuta, who had never once denied you anything you truly wanted—
let himself give in.
carefully.
gently.
always mindful of you.
always.
but just as the moment deepened—
just as his hands settled more securely at your waist—
you froze.
completely.
your breath caught sharply in your throat, your body going rigid as something unmistakable spread beneath you.
“…yuta—”
your voice broke.
and then—
you started crying.
soft at first, then harder, panic rising too fast for you to catch it.
“hey—hey, what’s wrong?” yuta’s hands immediately shifted, concern snapping into place as he tried to steady you. “did i hurt you? what happened?”
you shook your head, tears spilling over, your grip tightening on him.
“i—i don’t know—something—”
and then he felt it.
the warmth.
the realization.
everything clicked at once.
yuta stilled.
just for a second.
“…oh,” he breathed.
his hands softened immediately, one coming up to cradle your face, the other still steady at your side.
“…hey,” he said gently, voice calm despite the sudden shift. “it’s okay.”
you looked at him through your tears, confused, overwhelmed.
“it’s okay,” he repeated softly, brushing your tears away with his thumb.
a small, almost disbelieving smile tugged at his lips.
“…your water just broke.”
the words hung in the air.
real.
impossible to ignore.
and suddenly—
this wasn’t just another evening anymore.
the hospital lights were too bright.
not harsh enough to hurt—but enough to make everything feel sharper than it should’ve been, every second stretched thin, every sound just a little louder, a little too real.
machines hummed. shoes squeaked against polished floors. voices overlapped in low, urgent murmurs that never quite settled into silence.
and in the middle of it all—
you.
hours had passed.
yuta had stopped keeping track somewhere between the first wave of real pain and the moment your fingers started gripping his hard enough to leave marks. time didn’t feel like time anymore. it felt like a series of breaths, a series of pushes, a series of moments where all he could do was stay exactly where he was and not fall apart watching you go through it.
“you’re doing so well,” he kept saying, over and over, his voice softer than everything else in the room but somehow the only thing you could really hear. “i’m right here… just like that, you’re doing perfect…”
he didn’t let go of you.
not once.
his hand stayed locked in yours, the other brushing damp strands of hair from your face, his touch careful even when everything else felt chaotic. he had changed into scrubs at some point—he barely remembered doing it—but now they were slightly wrinkled, sleeves pushed up, his hair messier than usual from running his hands through it again and again.
he looked just as overwhelmed as he felt.
but he never let you see it.
not fully.
because this wasn’t about him.
this was about you.
and you were everything in that moment.
outside the room, the waiting area felt just as tense.
the other sorcerers had gathered without needing to be asked, drawn there by something unspoken, something that tied all of them together in quiet concern.
no one was really sitting still.
megumi and yuji pacing. toge and panda shifting. maki and nobara glancing toward the closed doors like they could somehow see through them if they tried hard enough.
they could hear pieces of it.
not everything—but enough.
enough to know it wasn’t easy.
back inside—
“okay,” one of the doctors said firmly, voice steady but urgent. “you’re ready. we need you to start pushing now.”
your body trembled, exhaustion pulling at every muscle, but you nodded, barely able to form words anymore.
yuta leaned closer immediately.
“i’ve got you,” he whispered, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. “just like we practiced, okay? you’re not alone. i’m right here.”
you squeezed his hand.
and then—
you pushed.
time blurred again.
minutes, hours—it didn’t matter.
just the rhythm.
push. breathe. hold. again.
your voice broke more than once, your body shaking under the strain, but every time you faltered, every time it felt like too much—
yuta was there.
“you’re so strong,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion he couldn’t quite hide anymore. “just a little more… i know it hurts, but you’re doing so good… i’m so proud of you…”
and you believed him.
even when it felt impossible.
“one more—just one more push!”
you cried out, your grip tightening painfully around his hand as you gave everything you had left—
and then—
a sound.
small.
fragile.
alive.
the room shifted instantly.
the tension broke, replaced with something lighter, something almost disbelieving as the doctor’s voice cut through—
“the baby’s here.”
your chest heaved, your entire body going slack with exhaustion as the sound filled the room again—soft cries, real, unmistakable.
yuta froze.
completely.
for just a second.
like his mind couldn’t catch up to what his ears were hearing.
“…she’s—” his voice broke. “she’s here…?”
you barely managed a weak, tearful laugh.
“…yeah,” you whispered.
he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his shoulders dropping all at once as something overwhelming washed over him—relief, disbelief, joy all tangled together so tightly he couldn’t separate them.
he leaned down immediately, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand cradling the side of your face.
“you did it,” he whispered, voice trembling now. “you did so good… i’m so proud of you…”
you closed your eyes, leaning into him, too tired to say much more—but you didn’t need to.
he understood.
he always did.
not long after—
after the baby was cleaned, after the initial rush settled just enough—
yuta stepped out into the waiting area.
the door barely had time to open before everyone looked up.
the silence that followed was instant.
heavy.
waiting.
yuta stood there for a second, his chest rising and falling, his eyes a little glassy, his expression softer than they’d ever seen it.
and then—
“…she’s here,” he said.
that was all it took.
the room erupted—not loudly, not chaotically, but with relief, with smiles, with something warm and shared between all of them.
questions followed, of course, overlapping, excited, but yuta just laughed softly, shaking his head a little.
“they’re okay,” he added quickly. “both of them.”
that mattered most.
it always would.
he didn’t stay long.
he couldn’t.
he needed to get back to you.
to his family.
he turned, already reaching for the door—
but before he could step through—
it opened again.
a doctor stepped out.
“mr. okkotsu,” they said quickly.
yuta paused, something in their tone making his chest tighten instantly.
“…yeah?”
the doctor hesitated—just for a second too long.
“…we need you to stay out here.”
everything in him went still.
“…what?” he asked, quieter now.
“there are some complications we didn’t detect during the pregnancy,” they continued, already turning slightly back toward the room. “we need to address them immediately.”
the words didn’t fully land at first.
complications.
didn’t detect.
immediately.
“…wait—what do you mean?” yuta stepped forward, panic rising too fast, too sharp. “is she okay? what’s wrong—can i—”
“we need space,” the doctor said firmly.
and then—
the door shut.
hard.
final.
yuta stared at it.
his hand was still half-raised, like he hadn’t processed that he wasn’t allowed to go back in.
“…no,” he breathed.
his chest tightened, something cold creeping in where warmth had just been moments ago.
“…no, no, no…”
he moved again, faster this time, reaching for the door like he could just open it, like they couldn’t actually keep him out—
but a hand caught his shoulder.
“hey.”
he turned sharply.
and there he was, gojo, for once—serious.
“yuta,” gojo said, voice lower than usual, steadier. “they’ve got it handled.”
“i need to go in there,” yuta shot back immediately, his voice shaking now, panic bleeding through no matter how hard he tried to hold it back. “she’s in there—i need to be with her—”
“and you will be,” gojo said, firm but not unkind, his grip tightening slightly. “but right now, you being calm is more useful than you trying to break through that door.”
“i don’t care about useful,” yuta snapped, his breathing uneven, his gaze locked on the door like if he looked away something worse would happen. “she’s—she just—she was fine—”
his voice broke.
just slightly.
“…she has to be fine,” he whispered.
the hallway felt too small.
too quiet.
every second stretched again—but this time, it wasn’t filled with your voice, or your hand in his.
just—
waiting.
and yuta had never hated waiting more in his life.
a couple of hours had passed.
no one really noticed when one hour turned into two—time in the hospital had a way of stretching, of becoming something unsteady and unbearable when all you could do was wait.
the hallway had gone quieter.
not empty—but quieter.
voices had softened, movements had slowed, and even the usual confidence that surrounded people like them—sorcerers, fighters, people used to facing the worst—had dulled into something more human.
worry.
real, helpless worry.
and yuta—
yuta hadn’t moved much.
he’d sat, stood, paced, stopped, ran a hand through his hair more times than he could count, his eyes never straying far from that door like it might open the second he looked away.
like if he stopped paying attention, something worse would happen.
he didn’t like that feeling.
he didn’t like not being able to do anything.
and then—
finally—
the door opened.
every head snapped up at once.
a doctor stepped out, their expression tired—but not urgent anymore.
not panicked.
something in yuta’s chest shifted immediately.
“mr. okkotsu,” they said.
he was already standing before they finished speaking.
“…is she okay?” his voice came out rough, like he hadn’t used it properly in hours.
the doctor nodded.
and just like that—
the tension snapped.
“she’s stable now.”
the words settled over the room like something warm, something needed.
behind him, the reactions came in waves—
relief, quiet laughter, someone exhaling a breath they didn’t realize they’d been holding.
megumi relaxed just slightly, shoulders dropping. inumaki gave a soft, relieved sound under his breath.
gojo leaned back with an exaggerated sigh, hand over his chest. nanami adjusted his glasses, tension easing from his expression. maki crossed her arms, but the tightness in her stance loosened.
yuji visibly brightened, and choso closed his eyes for a brief second. nobara let out a quiet “finally.” and todo actually whispered something about “brotherhood triumphing again.”
but yuta didn’t hear most of it.
because the second the doctor stepped aside—
he was already moving.
the room felt different when he stepped back inside.
quieter.
softer.
like everything had been reset.
and there you were.
propped up against the hospital bed, looking exhausted in a way he’d never seen before—but there. awake. breathing. safe.
and in your arms—
the baby.
his chest tightened instantly.
not painfully.
just… full.
too full.
“…hey,” he whispered, stepping closer like he was afraid the moment might disappear if he moved too fast.
you looked up at him, tired but smiling—really smiling—and it hit him all over again.
you were okay.
“…hey,” you echoed softly.
he reached you in seconds, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek before his eyes dropped to the small bundle in your arms.
“… she’s…” he trailed off, his voice catching slightly. “she’s so small…”
you huffed a quiet laugh. “you’re one to talk.”
he smiled faintly, but his eyes didn’t leave the baby.
“can i…?” he asked, almost hesitant.
you nodded, carefully adjusting so he could see better, your fingers brushing his as you shifted.
for a moment—
he just looked.
taking it in.
memorizing it.
like he wanted to remember every detail exactly as it was.
after a bit, the doctors spoke again, explaining things more clearly now that everything had settled.
there had been complications.
ones they hadn’t been able to predict.
the baby had come early—too early—and your body hadn’t been ready, hadn’t been able to stabilize the way it should’ve after birth.
it had been dangerous.
closer than anyone wanted to admit.
but now—
now you were okay.
and the baby was okay.
and that was enough.
more than enough.
yuta let out a slow breath, his shoulders finally relaxing completely as the weight of it all lifted just enough for him to stand without feeling like he might collapse.
“…okay,” he murmured. “okay… that’s… okay…”
it could’ve been worse.
and that thought alone made everything feel lighter.
the quiet didn’t last long.
because, of course—
they came in.
one by one, then all at once, filling the room with warmth and noise and the kind of presence that made everything feel just a little less heavy.
questions followed immediately.
gentle ones. excited ones.
and then—
the inevitable.
“so,” yuji started, practically bouncing where he stood, “what’d you name her?”
you and yuta exchanged a look.
just for a second.
one of those quiet, shared moments that didn’t need words.
and then—
you spoke.
“…tsumiki.”
the room stilled.
just slightly.
like the name needed a second to settle.
“…that’s adorable,” gojo said immediately, way too loudly, hands coming together in exaggerated excitement. “that is dangerously cute. i’m offended, actually. how am i supposed to compete with that?”
you laughed softly, shaking your head.
“why tsumiki?” yuji asked, tilting his head.
before you could answer—
maki spoke.
“it’s the street,” she said simply. “the one they always used to go to.”
tsumiki lane.
and just like that—
yuta was gone.
not physically.
but his mind—
his heart—
it slipped back.
that street.
it wasn’t anything special to anyone else.
just a quiet corner, tucked away far enough from everything that it felt like its own little world.
but to him—
it was everything.
he could still see it.
the first time he met you there—awkward, unsure, standing a little too far apart like neither of you knew what to do with the space between you.
the first time your hands brushed—completely accidental—and how neither of you pulled away as quickly as you should’ve.
the night you both got caught in the rain, laughing breathlessly under a broken streetlight, your hair soaked, his jacket draped over your shoulders even though it didn’t help much.
the way you’d sit on the curb together after missions, exhausted, leaning into each other without thinking, your head resting against his shoulder while the world stayed quiet just for a little while.
your first real fight—voices raised, emotions too big, both of you saying things you didn’t fully mean—
and then making up right there, words soft, hands hesitant before they found each other again.
the first time he kissed you—
nervous, unsure, pulling back too soon before you laughed softly and pulled him back in, showing him it was okay.
late nights where neither of you wanted to go back yet, so you just stayed there, talking about nothing and everything, your voices low, your fingers intertwined like it had always been that way.
the time you fell asleep against him on that very same street, your breathing soft and steady while he sat there, completely still, too afraid to move in case he woke you.
the quiet moment when he realized—
really realized—
that he loved you.
and then—
the night he proposed.
standing under that same dim light, hands shaking just slightly, his voice softer than it had ever been as he asked you to stay with him—
forever.
and now—
that same name sat in the air.
held by something new.
something small.
something theirs.
yuta blinked, the memories settling gently as he looked back down at you—at your new baby girl—at the life you’d built together.
“…tsumiki,” he repeated softly.
it felt right.
it felt like everything had come full circle.
like all those moments—every laugh, every tear, every quiet second on that street—
had led here.
to this.
and for the first time since the panic, since the fear, since the long, endless wait—
💬, there’s this girl on instagram who’s name is blythe and she sang a song about how she got her name and i took that idea and ran with it because it was among the most beautiful songs ive ever heard.
᧔᧓ you just read a fic that ruined your life ? or do you want your request seen sooner? a coffee donation shows support and/or moves your request up the queue! ☕️
𝜗ৎ pairing : yuta x fem !reader ⟡ ݁ ₊ . 𑣲 word count : 2,180 𑣲 genre : romance, intimate, suggestively smutty ₊ ˚ ⊹ ᰔ 𑣲 content contains : slow-burnish, mutual pining, friends wanting more conflict ⋆ . ˚
. 𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𓊆ྀི crawlin’ back to you 𓊇ྀི ⋆ ˙ ⟡ .
the night settles over jujutsu high like something deliberate—slow, heavy, and watchful, the kind of quiet that presses against your ears until even the smallest sound feels too loud.
you sit on the engawa just outside the dorms, legs tucked close, the cool wood beneath you grounding in a way you didn’t realize you needed. the air carries that faint chill of late hours, brushing against your skin, slipping beneath your sleeves, but you don’t move to go inside.
you don’t really want to.
not when your thoughts feel this loud.
not when they keep circling back to him.
you don’t hear him at first. yuta has always been quiet like that—gentle in the way he moves, like he’s afraid of disturbing something fragile, even when there’s nothing there to break.
but then the floor creaks softly behind you.
and you know.
you don’t turn right away. you let the moment stretch, let his presence settle beside you before acknowledging it, like if you rush it, something will slip out of place.
he doesn’t speak immediately either.
just sits.
close.
closer than he probably should.
close enough that you can feel the faint warmth of him even without touching, a subtle contrast to the cool night air wrapping around the both of you.
his sleeve brushes yours when he shifts slightly, and it’s barely anything—just fabric against fabric—but it lingers longer than it should.
like neither of you are in a hurry to move away.
“…you’re still awake.”
his voice is soft. quieter than the night itself, like it’s something meant only for you.
you hum in response, something small and noncommittal, but it’s enough. it always is with him.
there’s a pause.
not empty—never empty with yuta—but filled with something unspoken, something hovering just beneath the surface, waiting.
you can feel his gaze before you actually look at him.
it’s careful. studying. like he’s trying to memorize something he’s not sure he’s allowed to keep.
when you finally turn your head, it’s slow.
and he’s already looking at you.
of course he is.
his eyes flicker for just a second—like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t—and then soften almost immediately, something quiet and warm settling there.
“…couldn’t sleep?” he asks, but it sounds like he already knows the answer.
you shrug slightly, looking away again, out into the dark where the trees sway just enough to remind you the world is still moving.
“something like that,” you murmur.
another pause.
he shifts again, just enough that his shoulder almost—almost—touches yours.
and then it does.
light.
barely there.
but it stays.
you don’t pull away.
neither does he.
it’s subtle, the way his breathing changes. not dramatic, not obvious—just a quiet inhale that lingers a little too long, like he’s steadying himself.
like this matters more than it should.
“…you didn’t move,” he says after a moment, voice even softer now.
you glance at him again, brows faintly knitting.
“what?”
his gaze drops—not fully, just enough to land on where your shoulders meet.
“…when i got closer.”
the words are careful. chosen.
like he’s testing them before letting them exist.
you don’t answer right away.
because he’s right.
you didn’t move.
you should have, maybe. shifted, created space, kept things normal.
but you didn’t.
and now it’s something he’s noticed.
of course he noticed.
he always does.
“…should i have?” you ask quietly.
there’s no accusation in it. just curiosity.
honesty.
yuta’s lips part slightly, like he’s about to answer right away—but he doesn’t.
he hesitates.
you watch it happen in real time, the way his thoughts catch, the way something deeper tries to push forward but gets held back at the last second.
“…no,” he finally says.
soft.
almost too soft.
his shoulder presses just a fraction closer, like he didn’t mean to—but he doesn’t correct it.
“…i just… noticed.”
his hand shifts against the wood beside him, fingers flexing slightly, like he’s debating something.
and then—slowly, carefully—his hand moves closer to yours.
not touching.
not yet.
just close enough that the warmth is there again, that same quiet tension building in the space between your skin.
it would be so easy to close the gap.
just a small movement.
just a little closer.
but neither of you do it.
not immediately.
you feel his attention drop to your hand, like he’s watching it the same way he watches everything—intently, quietly, like he’s trying to understand it without disturbing it.
“…can i?” he asks.
it’s barely above a whisper.
and for a second, you don’t even know what he means.
until his fingers shift again, just slightly.
closer.
your breath catches before you can stop it.
and he notices.
he always notices.
his eyes flicker back up to your face, searching, careful, like he’s looking for any sign to stop.
“…only if you want me to,” he adds quickly, softer now, like he’s afraid he’s already pushed too far.
there’s something in his expression—something open, something vulnerable in a way that makes your chest tighten.
like this isn’t just a small thing to him.
like it never was.
you don’t pull away.
instead, you turn your hand just slightly, enough to close that small, fragile distance between you.
his breath hitches.
quiet.
but there.
his fingers meet yours like he’s afraid you might disappear if he moves too fast—light at first, barely resting against your skin, like he’s giving you time to change your mind.
you don’t.
so he lets them settle.
fully.
warm.
gentle.
his thumb brushes faintly against the side of your hand, hesitant, testing, and when you don’t react negatively—when you don’t pull away—
he exhales.
soft.
relieved.
“…you’re warm,” he murmurs, almost to himself.
his thumb moves again, a little more certain this time, tracing slow, absent patterns against your skin.
“…i like that.”
the words slip out before he can stop them.
you feel it—the moment he realizes he said it out loud.
his fingers still for just a second.
and then resume, slower now, more deliberate.
“…sorry,” he adds quietly, though it doesn’t sound like he regrets it.
it sounds like he’s afraid of what it means.
you shake your head slightly.
“you don’t have to apologize.”
your voice is just as soft.
just as close.
and something in his expression shifts again at that—something that settles deeper, warmer, like your words gave him permission for something he’s been holding back.
his hand tightens just slightly around yours.
not enough to trap.
just enough to feel.
“…you’re always like this,” he says after a moment, almost thoughtful.
“…soft. warm.”
his gaze lifts again, meeting yours, and there’s something heavier in it now—something that lingers a little too long.
“…it makes it hard to think sometimes.”
your breath stutters.
just a little.
and his eyes catch it instantly.
they always do.
his thumb stills again.
“…did i say something wrong?” he asks, quieter now, like the possibility genuinely worries him.
you shake your head quickly.
“no, it’s just—”
you stop.
because you don’t know how to explain it.
how do you explain the way his voice feels when it drops like that? the way his words settle into something deeper, something that makes your chest feel too tight and too light all at once?
you don’t.
you can’t.
so you just shake your head again, softer this time.
“…it’s nothing.”
he studies you for a long moment.
like he doesn’t believe you.
like he wants to ask more.
but he doesn’t.
instead, his hand shifts, fingers threading more securely between yours, the contact deepening in a way that feels… intentional now.
chosen.
“…okay,” he murmurs.
but he doesn’t sound fully convinced.
his forehead dips slightly, not quite touching yours—but close.
close enough that you can feel the warmth of his breath now, soft and uneven against your skin.
he pauses there.
like he’s waiting.
like he’s giving you time to stop him.
you don’t.
and that’s all it takes.
his voice drops even quieter, barely there, like it’s something he shouldn’t say out loud.
“…if i keep going…”
his fingers tighten just a little, grounding himself in you.
“…i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.”
it doesn’t sound like a warning.
it sounds like something he’s been holding in for far too long.
and now—
now it’s slipping.
slipping into you—not all at once, not rushed, but slowly, carefully, like he’s afraid of overwhelming you… like he’s learning you as he goes.
the space between you disappears so quietly it almost feels inevitable.
like something that was always going to happen.
like something that’s been waiting.
yuta exhales against you, the sound uneven, fragile in a way you’ve never heard from him before.
his restraint doesn’t break all at once.
it unravels.
piece by piece.
his forehead finally rests against yours, and for a moment, that’s all it is—just warmth, just closeness, just the quiet press of him grounding himself like he needs this to be real.
like he needs you to be real.
“…are you okay?” he whispers, and it’s soft, almost lost, like he’s asking more than just the question.
you nod, but the movement is small, barely there.
he notices anyway.
he always notices.
his hand tightens around yours before slowly shifting, guiding, grounding—never forcing, never taking more than you give.
but when you give, even a little—
he feels it.
and it changes something in him.
his breath catches again, deeper this time, and his other hand finds you just as carefully, like he’s mapping something out in the dark, learning where to hold, where to stay.
“…you feel—” he stops himself, swallowing slightly.
tries again.
“…you feel so… warm.”
the words come out quieter this time, heavier, like they mean more than he knows how to say.
his voice dips, brushing against you just as softly as his touch does, and it makes something in your chest tighten.
because he sounds gone.
not lost—no.
just… consumed.
by you.
his movements stay slow, almost hesitant, but there’s something deeper underneath now—something that wasn’t there before, something that builds every time you react, every time you lean into him instead of away.
and he notices that too.
of course he does.
his head tilts slightly, his nose brushing yours for just a second before he stills again, like that tiny contact affected him more than it should have.
“…you don’t pull away,” he murmurs again, softer now, like it’s something he’s still trying to understand.
his thumb traces slow, absent patterns, but they’re not as unsure anymore.
they linger.
they press.
just enough to feel.
“…you stay.”
it almost sounds like he’s reassuring himself.
like he needs to say it out loud to believe it.
your breath stutters again, and this time, he doesn’t pause.
this time, he leans into it.
just slightly.
testing.
his lips brush near yours—not quite there, not fully—but close enough that the warmth lingers, that the intention is clear even if the action isn’t complete.
and he stays there.
hovering.
like he’s giving you one last chance to stop him.
“…tell me if it’s too much,” he whispers.
but his voice is already softer than before, already heavier, like he’s slipping further into something he can’t pull himself out of.
your hand tightens in his.
that’s all it takes.
his breath breaks.
quiet, but sharp, like something in him finally gives in.
and then he closes the distance.
it’s not rushed.
not desperate.
it’s slow—achingly slow—the kind of kiss that feels like a question at first, like he’s still asking, still checking, still making sure.
but when you respond—
when you don’t hesitate—
it changes.
his hand shifts again, more certain now, holding you in a way that feels intentional, like he’s no longer afraid of wanting this.
of wanting you.
and the kiss deepens, just slightly, just enough to make his breathing uneven again.
he pulls back only a fraction, just enough for his lips to brush yours as he speaks.
“…you’re… really good at this,” he murmurs, almost dazed.
there’s a faint, breathless disbelief in his voice.
like he didn’t expect this.
like he didn’t expect you.
his forehead rests against yours again, but closer this time, more grounded, like he’s no longer hovering on the edge—he’s stepped past it.
💬, the strong masculine urge to praise a woman. lwk wanna be so down bad for a woman right now bro. these past couple days have been rough. i wanna praise, spoil, and douse a woman in love right now. i’ve been listening to too many songs. ANYWAYS GUYS HERES A LITTLE SOMETHING JUST TO SAY IM ALIVEEEEE HOW ARE YALLLLLL
᧔᧓ you just read a fic that ruined your life ? or do you want your request seen sooner? a coffee donation shows support and/or moves your request up the queue! ☕️
It’s no secret that Satoru loves watching you squirm—hips writhing, tears glistening, legs twitching. He adores those high pitched sounds you make when you’re overwhelmed, delicate hands trying to push him away when he fucks you a little too deep.
So now he wonders…
How loud would you scream if he added some toys to the mix?
“No, no, no-“ you’re begging, tummy tensing and hips bucking as Satoru brings the wand back up to your already overstimulated clit. “I can’t, Toru!”
“Oh, come on, angel-“ he rolls his hips, smooching your cervix with his leaky tip to make you squeal. “You’re not tapping out already, are you?” he mocks you, turning the vibrations back on-
“Fuck!” you’re crying, legs kicking and hands smacking Satoru’s abs in an attempt to save yourself from another tortuous orgasm. “Too much- I c-can’tttt-“
“I don’t care, baby.” his voice is sickeningly sweet, sapphire eyes crazed as he watches you with a twisted satisfaction. “Gimme another one-“ he grunts, hips settling back into a slow rhythm—he hits that pleasurable spot deep inside you with cruel precision every time.
“Feels- ngh- different!” the pleasure-pain that courses through your veins is intoxicating—you can feel every painful buzz on your overly sensitive clit, your tummy contracting every time he hits the very back of your abused cunt.
“You can do it, princess-“ Satoru chuckles, leaning over you to plant wet kisses on your tear-stained cheeks. “Just relaxxx and let it happen, hun.”
“Please-!” you squeal, not sure if you're asking for more or for it to end—your entire body jerks, once, twice-
“Fuckkk, baby.” Satoru groans, hips stuttering as you squeeze him so tight. Clear liquid comes out in spurts, soaking his pelvis and the bedsheets as your cunt visibly pulses.
You let out broken moans as Satoru fucks you through your orgasm—pathetic gushes of your squirt slowly decreasing in amount.
“No more- can’t-“ the bliss of your orgasm dulls into a full body ache—your hands pull at the forearm holding the wand, trying to pry it off. “Toru- it hurtsss-“ you sob, feet kicking as his body weight remains pinning you down.
“Shhh- s’okay, angel-“ he coos, finally pulling the nightmare of a device off your swollen nub and turning it off. “Did sooo good-“ he pecks your quivering lips, holding you close as your body tremors.
“How many times was that?” Satoru laughs, still balls deep inside of you. “Felt like a new record for you, babe.” he gives the side of your hips a few smacks, urging you to speak.
“Dunno.” you whisper, falling limp against the messy sheets.
“Hey-“ he smacks your hip again. “I’m proud of you, princess.”
CHOSO KAMO ~ SOMNOPHILIA
Choso and yourself had a conversation not too long ago—about your boyfriend’s tendency to need sex all the time, that is. Before the two of you got together, your previous partners had a hard time keeping up with your libido. But ever since you met Choso, your sex drive has been put to shame.
To solve this…issue, you had given Choso the green light to use you when you’re asleep—in the event that you’re too tired, at least.
You’re softly snoring when Choso enters the room, his dick straining against his jeans as he stalks towards the bed. He had a hard day, but he was even harder—he couldn’t stop thinking about your voice, your silky hair, the dip of your waist, your hips-
Your pussy.
He gently pulls the covers from your form, only to find you naked—nipples peaked, legs spread, cunt glistening just for him. “God damn, sweetheart.” he mumbles, unbuckling his studded belt and taking his sweat scented shirt off (yum).
His fingers explore you tentatively, soft brushes across your nipples all the way down to your bare mound. You don’t stir, breaths remaining stable as he collects your slick—bringing it up to his gaping mouth for a greedy taste.
Choso climbs on top of you, making a place for himself between your legs. He crowds you, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent like a dog. “Mfmm- missed you, love.” he gets a sleepy snore in response, a giggle escapes his throat before his hands return to groping you.
He frees his cock from the confines of his boxers and starts grinding in the wetness of your pussy lips—his leaky tip painting your clit with glossy pre. “Been waiting to fuck you all day, pretty-“ he licks a hot stripe up the side of your neck, lining himself up and pushing in-
“Cho?” you whimper, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you’re fucked open.
“Shh- just me, sweetheart-“ he bottoms out with a sigh of relief, planting a wet smooch on your lips and squeezing your plump tits. “Go back to sleep-“ he murmurs, his deep voice soothing you.
“M’kay-“ you’re far too tired to be bothered by the fullness of your cunt—you’ve grown accustomed to the feeling, so much so that it lulls you back to sleep.
“Sooo good for me.” Choso chokes back a whimper, gently thrusting in and out of your warmth. It doesn’t take him long to paint your insides with his sticky cum—with the tension of the day, the simple wet, heat of your pussy is enough for him to drown in pleasure.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” he whispers fondly as he pulls out, covering your relaxed body with kisses while he waits for his release to leak out of you.
Choso makes sure to snap a picture of that precious creampie before cleaning you up and snuggling next to his beloved girlfriend.
He’ll probably fuck you in the morning too.
TOJI FUSHIGURO ~ ANAL
“How does that feel, doll?” Toji grunts, your little pucker is squeezing him unbelievably tight—your body weight resting on his chest and legs pulled up, up, up in a full nelson-
After about a week of working you up with his fingers, Toji came to the conclusion that you were ready for his dick. Although, given how big he is, your smallest hole still wasn't fully prepared for the intense stretch.
“Feels weird-“ you’ve never felt so full yet so empty in your life—the sensation is similar…but like it’s happening next door, making your cunt clench around nothing. You let out a choked gasp when he shifts just a little bit- “Fuck- ngh- too deep-“
“Gotta let loose, doll-“ he snakes a large hand down your front, nibbling and licking your ear before making contact with your glistening pussy. “Can’t- mfm- tense like that.” he rubs your clit in slow circles, occasionally dipping down to your hole and collecting more slick.
“Haaa-“ you let out a breathy moan, trying your best not to close your legs around the stimulation—not that you really could, given that they’re being forced open by Toji’s arms. “Feels good-“
“Yeahh it does, doll-“ Toji thrusts his hips justtt a tad, experimenting with your limits. You yelp, head falling limp on his shoulder—your back arches off of his abs, inadvertently taking his cock even further into your ass. “Told you it’d feel nice, heh-“
“Want more-“ you whine, the pressure feels amazing, the heavy weight of him seated deep inside of you makes you wish you had agreed to this sooner.
“More?” Toji huffs a laugh. “You’re just perfect, aren’t ya?” the hand on your clit sneaks lower, two girthy fingers slide inside of your neglected cunt and curl-
“Ohhh my god-“ Toji’s hips settle in a slow, shallow pace, keeping you nice and stuffed while he fingers you with fervor—audible squelches and loud cries fill your once quiet bedroom.
“Yeahh- you like getting your pretty little holes stuffed, huh?” the heel of his palm grinds against your clit with every single prod of his fingers to that spongy spot inside your pussy—you swear you can feel his dick rubbing against his digits through the separating wall with every thrust-
“Gonna cum!” you squeal, body thrashing in Toji’s hold as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt builds to a peak-
“Good fuckin’ girl-“
Toji had never expected his girlfriend—the one who wouldn’t even let him eat her ass a few weeks ago—would turn into such an anal slut. As of recently, that’s all you’ll ever ask him for: to be fucked in the ass while he plays with your pretty pussy.
He’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.
SUGURU GETO ~ SHIBARI
Suguru loves being in control—he adores seeing you on your knees, eyes wide, as you wait for him to give you a command. So safe to say you weren’t surprised when he started tying you up during sex.
It started with just him holding your wrists, keeping you where he wanted you. Then he upgraded to handcuffs, some simple knots with silk, maybe a belt-
But nothing compares to how he has you right now.
“Too tight, gorgeous?” he asks, tying the last of many delicately woven knots. You watch his veined hands tug at the rope intently, your slick dripping down the crevice of your ass no doubt.
“A little.” you admit, unable to move your limbs—your legs are spread wide, knees forcibly bent from the rope that binds your calves to your thighs, heels flush to your ass. Your hands are tied to your sides, breasts framed tightly with the same rope that circles your spine and shoulders.
It’s an art form, no denying that, but it is a little uncomfortable. You know it shouldn’t be, but Suguru enjoys leaving marks on you.
“Good.” he purrs, walking around the bed until he’s standing next to your head. “Open up, baby.” he taps your cheek, thick cock hanging over your face with a fox-like grin plastered across his features.
Suguru slides into your willing mouth with a groan, hungry eyes wandering over his handiwork. “You’re so beautiful like this-“ one of his hands buries in your hair while the other caresses your tied body. “Pliant and unable to squirm-“ he pinches your nipple, hard-
“Mfmm!” you whine around his dick—Suguru is fucking your throat, holding your head still by your scalp. Electricity shoots straight down to your clit every time a groan slips past his lips, your cheeks are hollowed, desperate to please.
“You’re so wet, gorgeous.” his hand snakes down to your cunt, collecting the obscene amount of slick and bringing it up to your clit. “I’d almost think you could- ngh- cum from me fucking your mouth alone.” Suguru laughs, grip in your hair tightening.
“Mhmm!” you try to nod but he keeps you still, hitting the back of your throat to make you gag—there’s a mix of your spit and Suguru’s pre dripping down your chin, but you can’t bring yourself to care when he finally starts rubbing your neglected clit.
“Such a dirty girl-“ he pulls his cock from your mouth with a wet pop, using the concoction of fluids to gloss your lips. “You like being tied up, huh?”
“Yes.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA ~ EXHIBITIONISM
The King of Curses is an avid enjoyer of your humiliation—he loves watching the embarrassed flush rise to his favorite whore’s face when he tells you to kneel in a room full of people.
It started with you being forced to feed him fruit while he’s sat on his throne, then he made you do it naked, and now-
“Tsk- eyes on them, brat.” he tuts, one of many hands grabbing your face and forcing it forward.
It was about that time of the year that Sukuna had people from each of the villages bring him offerings to save themselves from an inevitable slaughter—only today, he yearned to put on a show it seems.
“Look at those scum while I take you-“ he pulls you back down on his cocks, forced so deep in your holes you swear you’ll burst. “Show them how generous I am.” an evil cackle radiates throughout the main room of the shrine, a wide crowd of eyes trained on the obscene display in front of them.
If it weren’t for Sukuna’s prior threat of decapitation, you’re sure they all would’ve scrambled out the ornate doors over an hour ago.
“So generous- nghh- Kuna!” your whines bounce off the walls, along with the squelching of your slick. Your legs are spread wide, draping across the armrests with your stuffed cunt and ass on full display for the unwilling audience.
“Such a good cocksleeve aren’t you, my dear?” he croons into your ear from behind, huge arms maneuvering you up and down, down, down his monstrous dicks. It’s brutal—you’ve cum multiple times already, the evidence dripping down your ass and onto the ground beneath you.
“Mhmm!” you nod profusely, another orgasm already worming its way into your belly. You unfortunately lock eyes with a frightened woman as your body starts to convulse—a torturous stream of squirt sprays with every pound-
“That’s right, brat-“ Sukuna grunts, his grip on your face bruising. “Show them how good I make whores like you feel, heh-“ his many eyes roam the crowd, making sure they’re all still watching until-
Screaming.
Blood splatters across your face as someone close loses their head—an almost equally disgusting display as to what’s happening on the throne.
18+ MDNI, smut - squirming away from bf!geto during sex
you always do this. every time. every single damn time.
you say you can handle it and proceed to crawl into his lap all sweet and soft. pepper his throat with kisses. breathe all breathless against his neck like please, sugu. i need you.
and then he gives it to you. fucking you slow and deep. and of cousrse, your body betrays you completely.
your legs start shaking, back arches and you squirm.
every time, you squirm obsessively like you forget how it feels to be so full of his cock.
geto always just lets it happen, just for a second. he watches you try to crawl up the bed, squirming from the stretch of it. your fingers twisting in the sheets as your hips twitch and roll. his cock’s barely halfway in and you’re already trembling.
“were do you think you’re going?” he murmurs, low in your ear.
you whimper something into the pillow. you’re not even sure whether it was a coherent thought. he just laughs, softly.
“nah. you’re not going anywhere.”
and then he grabs your hips, pulls you right back down onto him.
you squeal delighted while your back bows into an almost perfect arch. your thighs begin to shake again due to that euphoric feeling, only suguru can ever pull out of you.
“baby,” he says gently, “you gotta stay still.”
you can’t. you’re trying so hard but u just can’t. it’s almost as if your body’s not listening. every time he moves, even just a little, you twitch. gasp. try to inch away from how overwhelmingly good it feels.
he strokes a hand up your spine and kisses your shoulder. all the while, keeping his hips flush with yours while you squirm and sob and pant into the mattress like you’re being split in half.
“you get like this every time,” he hums. “so fuckin’ sensitive. makes me wanna ruin you.”
you cry out when he grinds in just a little deeper. your body reacts almost completely instinctively. your hips twitching, trying to squirm away again.
he pins you down. one long hand flat between your shoulder blades. the other wrapping around your waist, pulling you back against him like he owns you.
“stop running from it,” he whispers. “take it. you can take it. can’t you?”
you nod, even as your body shivers under him. you’re so wet. the squelching of suguru’s cock stuffing your tight hole makes you blush.
“attagirl,” he praises. “fuck, look at you. so pretty like this. twitchin’ all over me.”
you whimper while trying to bury your face in the sheets. he doesn’t let you.
his hand curls into your hair, tugging gently. just enough to tilt your head back, let him see the way your mouth falls open with every sound you make.
“let me hear it,” he says. “don’t hide.”
and then he starts to fuck you in earnest. every thrust just a little sharper, dragging that wrecked little noise out of your throat again and again.
your body squirms, hips wriggling, fingers gripping his wrist, but it’s no use. he’s stronger.
you’re not going anywhere.
“that’s it,” he groans. “that’s my girl. look at you. can’t stop moving. can’t take it but you still want more.”
you’re going to lose your mind.
and he’s going to help.
based on this request
A/N: guys i'm sorry this was so buns :( i have to get used to writing geto 😃
"yuta, I have work today..."
you groaned in feigned annoyance but made no move to push him off, fingers tangled in his soft hair as you suppressed a small smile, the feeling of his lips tickling your skin.
"just call in sick, love", your husband whispered as he continued peppering small kisses all over your neck, gently nibbling on the sensitive skin, "I'll do the same and we'll just stay in bed all day... I don't want to to be away from you yet.."
it sounded like such a good idea; allowing yourself to stay in his embrace, yuta's warm body pressed against yours as he was already working on his attempt at kissing you senseless. the thought of lazing around and doing absolutely nothing with him was so much more enjoyable than having to sit at work, all while knowing what you were missing out on.
you sighed, his hand warm underneath your shirt and his fingers sprawled across your stomach, thumb gently rubbing against your skin as he kissed the corner of your mouth in another effort of convincing you of how excellent of a plan he had just laid out in front of you.
it would be silly not to agree to it, really. a once in a lifetime opportunity that you just had to take, especially when you both knew that you wanted to stay right were you were just as badly as he did. that you were too weak to resist, especially when he was being even more gentle than he already was normally; his fingers soothingly tracing small patterns over your skin, as if hoping it would maybe make you so comfortable you just had to stay with him.
and it was true. the longer he kept up his antics, the weaker grew your resolve and the more likely it would become that you would finally give in. he knew by now just what he had to do if he wanted to keep you to himself for a bit longer; how he had to tilt his head and kiss you to make clear just how badly he wanted you to be as close as possible right now.
another exasperated sigh fell from your lips, but yuta could tell that it was far from genuine. he'd heard that sound enough times to know that it meant he would come out of this as the winner—although you had to admit that you weren't necessarily losing either.
"if I stay home, then at least go get my phone so I can call before I forget about it"
notes : literally just made some bullshit + yes ive used those lyrics before, what about it
୭⋆*｡ ₊̣̇.ෆ.₊̣̇. ୨୧ – hungover breakfast with bf!suguru geto ˃̵ᴗ˂̵˚♡˚‧⁺༄
every time you let satoru handle the rounds for the group, you wake up feeling melted into the mattress the next morning. after so many years you think you would have learned.
apparently not.
it hurts to open your eyes when you’re met with the harsh glare of the afternoon sunlight through the blinds. your limbs feel glued down and you barely roll over to see your boyfriend on his back, forearm thrown over his eyes.
you barely move your leg from where it’s tangled with his and he grunts. basically saying ‘it’s too early for this’ even though it’s two pm.
“sugu,” you murmur, shoving your head deeper into the soft pillow beneath you.
he’s so pretty, black locks spread all around him like he’s some kinda angel with a halo or a mermaid. your mouth grows dry as you wait for his response.
“hm?”
“hungry.”
“we got crackers?” suguru mutters.
“ran out. we never bought any after last time when everyone crashed here.” you tug your legs from between his and curl closer to him beneath the numerous blankets.
you always did get unusually cold when you were hungover, meanwhile he was the opposite. suguru was shirtless and hummed in protest when he felt the warmth of your body but didn’t make any effort to pull away.
also because he knows that if he did, he’d be signing his soul off to hear your whining for twenty minutes.
“what’re you in the mood for, sweetheart?”
“hashbrowns.” your lips curve at the mere thought of the food and you tighten your hold on his bicep.
“so waffle house.”
“do you want waffle house?”
suguru finally opens his eyes and looks at you. you never get tired of those purple irises that you always catch watching you even at the worst times.
like when satoru and utahime are arguing (when are they not?) or that one time yuji was panicking because nobara taped him to his bed in his sleep.
“morning, pretty.” his lips lazily curl into a smile.
“good morning.” you whisper, your noses nearly touching each other. just the sight of him gets you smiling.
“to answer your question,” he rests a heavy palm on your waist above the covers. “yes, i want waffle house. we should go get some.”
“oh really?” you barely snicker, too tired to even do that.
“you know, just another one of my genius suggestions.” he leans closer, kissing your cheek.
“okay, okay, morning breath,” you warn but you’re distracted by suguru peppering kisses everywhere but your lips.
“okay, okay, hey, stop!!” now you’re laughing, trying to squirm away from him and the alcohol still lingering on him, mixing with that expensive cologne he always wears that smells herbal and crispy.
“no kisses until i feel like a person again.” you place your hand on his lips and he protests in a small smooch against your palm.
the diner was half full, and while you two waited for your food, you and suguru took up the habit of people watching. there was a group of kids who looked like they had just graduated high school sitting at the counter in those stools downing cups of coffee.
“remember when that used to be us?” suguru jerks his chin towards them, taking a slow sip from his mug.
“is that not you still?” you reply with a smile.
“no. got a girlfriend so i have more cool guy points now.” he clarifies.
there’s an elderly couple sitting across from each other. the man tears his grilled cheese sandwich in half and holds out one of the sides. the lady gracefully takes a bite and smiles at him.
for a second you don’t catch the way suguru looks at you with admiration even with your hair tucked into his hoodie, his sweatpants, and shades because you complained that the light hurt your eyes earlier.
“what?” you hum.
“you are so gorgeous.” he says casually. after all, he has been doing this for years now, it comes as an instinct to him.
and even after all this time it still manages to fluster you the way he says it so suddenly and unphased, like he has a daily quota to meet of how many times he compliments you.
when your food comes both of you are eerily silent because you’re trying to put something in your system besides alcohol and edible gummies. another reason you shouldn’t trust satoru to do… practically anything when it comes to a night out. you never know how it’ll end.
suguru taps your foot with his and you look up to see him taking some hashbrowns off your plate. you roll your eyes and cut a piece off his waffle.
“i can’t believe you don’t eat these with syrup.” you mutter, dipping the small slice on your fork into the small plastic syrup container. “freakin’ weirdo.”
“you’re dating this weirdo, so, shame on you,” he leans back in the booth seat, chasing the rest of his food with some water.
“how did that happen again?” you hum, properly meeting his gaze and he takes your hand into his.
“if i remember, it sounded something like ‘oh, suguru, please date me, you’re so handsome and dope and you always help me with english’.” he mocks you and you glare coldly at him.
“not true.” you grumble, sliding down in your seat and stabbing your hashbrowns. “i was too cool to ever say something like that.”
“you’d write it in your notebook though.” the black haired man grins.
you stick your tongue in the inside of your cheek and fight the urge to smile back at him because you know he’s right. you lift your shades over your head and over your hair.
“there she is.” he reaches over the table and pinches your cheek. “do you feel better? more like a living person?”
“yeah.” you nod and take a sip of your water.
“you know, i’ve been thinking,”
“dangerous.” he scoffs. “is this a drunk thought or a normal thought? because both are completely unhinged.”
“we should go on love island.”
suguru blankly stares at you for a second. you can basically see the gears turning in his head.
“isn’t that where you go to find love?” he asks.
“yes.”
“we’re sitting right across from each other.”
“yes?”
“we’re in love.”
“correct.”
“then why would we go on love island?”
the waitress then comes to refill your drinks and smiles at the two of you, especially your stifled laughter. she walks away and suguru leans forward, folding his arms on the table.
“we can pretend to not know each other. we’ll be like chelley and ace!”
“love, i don’t know who those people are. only you watch that stuff.” he chuckles, shaking his head.
suguru's the type of guy who carries your purse for you. he doesn't care about the strange looks he gets, he's just happy to hold your bag for you. whether you need to take a trip to the restroom or you're just tired of carrying it, he's there to hold onto it for as long as you need him to.
suguru's the type of guy who lets you play with his hair. he's very protective of his long lustrous locks, he he doesn't mind you combing your fingers through it. he finds it king of relaxing. he also lets you do his hair routine for him just so he can spend more time close to you and feeling your touch.
suguru's the type of guy who smiles when he talks to you on the phone. just the sound of your voice has the corner of his lips turning upward as he listens to whatever it is you want to say, be it something stupid or gossip you couldn't wait to tell him, other way he's still smiling as he imagines you infront of him talking to him.
suguru's the type of guy who enjoys cuddling up with you on movie night. it's just something about the way your frame fits his, your legs intertwined under the covers and him placing his chin on the top of your head. it's moments like these that he wants to live in forever, barely paying attention to the movie, just occasionally placing kisses on your ear, neck and cheek.
suguru's the type of guy who documents almost everything you do together. he had a special journal with your ship name on it where he writes each and everything about your day together. he of course does this in secret, he would die of embarrassment if you were to ever read what he writes inside.
suguru's the type of guy who has spa days with you. any random day of the week, you plan to do your skincare, haircare, pedicures, manicures, whatever it is, he has to do them with you. just so he can sit and laugh with you spending as much of his time he has with you.
suguru's the type of guy who rarely uses your name instead calling you cute names. his favourites are 'darling', 'pretty girl' and 'baby'. the only time he calls you by your given name is when he's being serious. he just likes how you smile everytime you smile when he calls you a cute nickname.
suguru's the type of guy who enjoys cooking together with you. playing a youtube tutorial and mixing the ingredients infront of you and soon enough, the tutorial ending up as background music as you're laughing together, a mess of your clothes from the spilled contents. he knows nothing ever gets done since you end up ordering food anyways, but at least he got to have some fun with you.
suguru's the type of guy who loves when you wear his clothes. it's just something about your frame being swallowed by his robes that has his heart melting. and the fact that when you walk around with his scent on you because your wearing his clothes, he just adores you so much.
suguru's the type of guy who always stares at your lips when you talk to him. he knows he should be staring into your gorgeous eyes, but there's just something about your lips. his mind can't help but wonder how your lips would feel on his even though you've kissed multiple times. he just can't help himself and kisses you right then and there.
cw: yandere geto but does he really need the label canon or otherwise?, manipulation / coercion, like 3-4ish years post defection, reader is kinda like miwa or maki at jujutsu tech so little to no CE or something idk, one of the underclassmen etc etc etc., kidnapping, idk i haven't written suguru in a min and just trying to get back to it again
This was a bad idea, anyone with a modicum of self-respect would parrot those sentiments, and yet here you were anyway, fists clenched to your sides as you greeted Geto at his new, shiny, fancy temple that probably was worth more than you could ever hope to earn.
He stood before you, towering over you like he always did, clad in his casual garb as opposed to that tacky priest getup you had seen him wear several occasions before. Only in photos.
"I'm glad you could come to meet me," Suguru greeted with a smile playing on his lips. At least, it was a smile he could almost feel like was real. He could always be like that with you.
He knew you definitely knew better, but old habits died hard. No matter what, you were there for anyone dear to you who needed you. It seemed like he did, still, even after all of this time. Why else would he have summoned you here?
"You called," you replied like it was the simplest thing in the world to you, dipping your head. Maybe you still thought things were the same. Maybe some things haven't changed, but most things have.
In fact, he doubted you even knew the half of it. What caused his descent. But you tried.
You definitely tried.
That was all he remembered, and why he owed you this much.
Suguru clicked his tongue, and your head snapped back up to meet his gaze.
"You know things are different now. What with me being a wanted man and all."
And in a feeble attempt to disengage this tension (you hung out with Satoru way too much, he feared):
"Hm. I don't know. I hear that's what all the ladies are wild about these days."
Suguru laughed but that sound lacked its usual melodious ring to it--more dull, dry. "Never mind all that, let's cut to the chase. I'm not here to waste your time. I've missed you dearly."
You didn't respond. You likely weren't sure how to react, given how long it had been already. You probably had a fair idea that Suguru still kept in contact with Satoru without telling anyone else. You were always far more perceptive and intelligent than you ever gave yourself credit for, which was a shame. That was something he intended to undo and program into your head just how valuable and righteous and goddesslike you were.
"I know I could have handled my departure better," he went on, "But I... hope you understand that my leaving had nothing to do with you. Or anyone else. I have nothing against you or our fellow classmates."
He dared to take a few steps toward you, until it felt like you two were barely a nanometer apart, the tip of his nose brushing against the crown of your head and catching the hint of his old perfume you used to steal from his dorm all the time because you liked it so much. He never minded. He let you keep it.
This was all the confirmation he needed, then...
"Alright, to hell with the fluff. Run away with me. Won't you? I may not dwell on the past all that much anymore, but I find my mind often drifting to you. You made it more bearable there, you know."
"Really? Not Satoru?" you quipped, shockingly calm in spite of the proximity between the two of you. Perhaps Satoru had something to do with you being as unbothered as you were now? "Isn't he the whole reason you're doing all of this? Because you have something to prove?"
"I'm afraid it's not that simple," he replied, his eyes dropping to meet yours and almost lost himself in how gorgeous you were after all of this time. "You saw me during times I didn't even wish to be seen, and for that... I couldn't allow things between us to keep hanging. I don't think I can thank you enough that you tried."
"And yet, it wasn't enough," you remarked, gaze unwavering. "You still left."
"Yes," he agreed, "I did."
Silence fell between you. Twiddling your thumbs as you pondered over what to say while he watched you studying his expressions. HIs eyes always went soft around you while they were often twinkling with mischief around Satoru or Shoko. Like he possessed something deeper than mere admiration for someone like you, even when you two were on different planes in terms of giftedness--at least, that was probably what you believed. You probably doubted he ever saw you as anything more than a dear friend. That this proposal of his felt out of pocket.
Then, finally, you addressed it, all the while Suguru kept his eyes trained on your face, zeroing in on your lips, your voice so quiet only someone with ears as sharp as Geto's could hear it:
"Why did you ask for me, Suguru?"
"Because I want you beside me. Choose me over those monkeys you claim to protect; I'm not just talking about normal people. You know nobody truly cares what happens to any of us. None of these missions get to the heart of the matter. The source."
"Attempting to obliterate the majority of the human race is--"
"--better than wasting the rest of our lives, treating the symptoms but not stopping the diseases those monkeys carry," he finished for you in a dry, bitter tone. "It's not like I intend to see it through, if that's what you mean."
"So what are you saying?" you challenged, "That this is all just some kind of elaborate ruse so that you don't return to Jujutsu High?"
"Call it what you like," he replied, "But I can lead my own life now, and I can take care of you from now on if you so choose to stay with me."
"If I wasn't enough of a reason for you to choose me before, why should I choose you over myself?"
Ah. Ever so spirited. It was nice to see that had only strengthened with time.
Taken aback, Suguru regained his composure, but it soon became rigid. Cold. Sending shivers down anyone's spine if they tried to cross him at this stage.
"Because I can give you everything you ever desire. I can protect you," he insisted, cupping your face with a gentleness that even took him by surprise. "I'm still so weak for you, sweetheart. I've longed for you since I left."
"I don't know, Suguru..."
"You've come all this way. There has to be a chance. Had I continued to be selfish I would have dragged you all the way here with one of my curses. I still could."
"Then maybe this isn't a good idea," you said, staggering backward.
SIghing, Suguru relaxed his body. But you weren't out of the woods yet, no. He had hoped things would be more civil. Instead you chose to make a fuss, which he should have expected. You had every right to be bitter and confused, but as it would stand he was still devastatingly selfish.
"I had hoped you would chose to stay with me," he began, and as he spoke some of his shikigami materialized, blocking you from each side. You had no chance. Most of these were grade 2 or 1. You were nowhere near capable of defeating these. "I even provided you the illusion of choice. But I guess it had to be this way."
"S-Suguru...!"
Suguru only mock pouted at your distress.
"I'm glad you were wise enough not to bring any tools," he rambled, "It made this much easier for me."
Streamer yuta who’s known for his more soft and enjoyable steams. People often make soft edits of him.
He has fan pages that adore him because it’s yuta-he’s just that adorable. Sometimes he streams with toge and Yuji and the streams get chaotic as ever.
Untill he introduced you.
Yuta’s lovely girlfriend who he invited to steam with him once and his chat went bonkers.
Yuta’s following shot up, more of his streams being clipped and it was all because of you.
You were way more funny than he was and the viewers loved you
——
STARKeyrahrah: where is y/n?
Mai4u: enough of you pretty boy where’s y/n
Majority of the time his chat looked like that and he loved it.
Not only where you enjoyable to play with you were also funny, unintentionally clip farming 24/7
“They have that one clip of you dying on the mimic floating around” Yuta said as his fingers clicked heavily on the keys focused on the game.
“That games rigged I couldn’t find the fucking rat” you huffed from the other end as your character hopped around on screen.
As your eyes darted to your own chat your eyes narrowed as you read.
“The games not rigged, if you’d follow the instructions it wouldn’t be hard-let’s get a time out on fushiguro please.”
Yuta only snickered at that.
And yeah streaming with his girlfriend was always fun. Aside from you ear fucking him and mainly timing out most of your friends in your chat.
Yuta wouldn’t have it any other way.
——-
This is Rushed and I should proof read but I don’t feel like it.
Let me know if I should make a tag list because I def will.
No asking where the other disappeared to after missions
And absolutely no catching feelings.
You and Yuta Okkotsu had agreed to those rules nearly a year ago, after a tough but also successful exorcism. At the time it was what worked for the two of you, as sorcerers neither of you had the luxury of getting to know someone outside of jujutsu high especially when your life consists of missions, non-stop training and getting thrown into life or death situations.
So, this worked.
It was supposed to work.
Until it didn't.
Because somewhere along the way Yuta started texting you after missions, you started being the first person he called after returning from overseas. Bringing you your favorite food after your sparring sessions with Gojo. Little by little he was breaking the rules now every time someone referred to the two of you as a couple, he doesn't correct them immediately like he used to.
In private, when he was certain no one was around, Yuta became affectionate. One of his favorite things was playing with your hair, the moment you sat beside him his hand would find its way into your hair, fingers threading through the thick strands with a familiarity that had developed over months of quiet moments together. He loved how soft it felt against his calloused hands. Your hair was his favorite trait about you. Silky, shiny and thick.
No one knew about you and Yuta. No one knew about the secret rendezvous at night, sometimes after missions. No one knew about the late night convenience store runs for condoms. It was your dirty little secret. You would be a liar if you said it didn't excite you. Him sneaking into your dorm in the middle of the night or you looking for him after his sparring session pulling him into the nearest tallest bush.
It was supposed to be simple. Meet and fuck. it wasn't meant to be more than that. It was only supposed to be sex no strings attached.
At first, you were oblivious to Yuta's behavior change towards your dynamic, on your run to the convenience store he would tickle you, grab you by the waist spinning you around peppering your neck full of kisses. unaware you would giggle telling him to stop lightly pushing him away. You would playfully run away from him, and he would run after you, reaching you and picking you up "I've got you baby" he was becoming more affectionate out in public, it slipped your mind at the time.
The kisses became more passionate
He would steal you away from Maki and Nobara offering them some vague excuse before leading you down the hall, The moment he spots an empty classroom he checks if no one is coming making sure the coast is clear before closing the door and locking it.
His attention is entirely on you, one hand sliding into your hair, fingers threading through the thick strands before settling at the back of your head. It was far from rough it was more possessive than anything in a way that made your heart flutter. His grip tightened just enough to draw you closer.
"Just a minute," he'd murmur, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
And then he would kiss you. It was the kind of kiss meant for lovers. His hand remained tangled in your hair. When he finally pulled back now his forehead resting on yours. It felt intimate. The passionate kisses became a routine for both. Yuta was breaking the rules, and you were following suit.
Sex became a lot more intense
It wasn't filled with lust anymore. He takes you missionary, entering you slowly, face to face. Eyes locked, there is no roughness, no wild position Just pure intimacy, looking into each other's souls. Every movement, every thrust charged with emotion... Love, desire and possession. Not your usual routine.
Before no one around you suspected the two of you having something going on, it was well hidden because the rules were being followed and now that they're being broken your friends are onto you. "Y/n, you and Okkotsu have been spending a lot of time together" Maki was the first to bring it up to you during your sparring session, I roll my eyes "I'm helping him study for our upcoming exams" she lands a blow on me, I winced "he always passes his exams with flying colors" now suspicious. I spot Yuta from the corner of my eye talking to panda, Maki follows my gaze "I have a feeling that once we are done training you and him will magically disappear into thin air" my eyes widened... has she been paying attention. We've been too tangled up with one another to notice our friends. "Now you are making things up" I raise my eyebrows at her with an accusatory tone. She shrugs waving me off "I'm not crazy, I see right through the both of you" she takes my weapon turning to leave.
Yuta notices Maki gone, it's just you out on the field. Panda is now conversing with Yuji and Inumaki. Yuta locks eyes with you carefully not wanting the others to notice then he mouths "Let's get out of here" you smirk shaking your head "no, we can't" you notice him pulling his phone out typing away, your phone vibrates.
Yuta <3
why are you denying me?
I giggle at his stupid text
Baby
I'm not, we have to be careful Yu, Maki is onto us.
Yuta <3
okay? and?
Baby
No one can know about us... remember?
Yuta <3
fine.
it wasn't like this before. He wouldn't text you throughout the day, he wouldn't beg to sneak around throughout the day. He would always remain friendly, but he was never romantic.
Yuta on the other hand has fallen hard. Now he was paying the price for agreeing to rules he no longer wanted
Because every time someone referred to you as "just friends," something unpleasant twisted in his chest.
Every time you casually mentioned another sorcerer, he found himself wondering things he had absolutely no right to wonder.
Every time you reminded him that this was supposed to be casual, he had to force himself to smile and pretend those words didn't sting.
The worst part was that he couldn't even blame you.
You were following the rules.
He was the one breaking them.
Little by little.
Day by day.
without realizing. The constant texting, the way he always gravitated towards you in a room full of people, The food he'd bring you because he remembered your favorite order, The way he looked for you first after every mission. The way his face softened whenever you smiled at him. None of those things belonged in a friend with benefits arrangement.
They belonged to someone hopelessly, undeniably in love. Yuta knew it. He spent months trying to convince himself otherwise, he tried to convince himself he was okay with this arrangement.
But love had a way of revealing itself through actions long before a person was ready to admit it out loud.
And Yuta's actions practically screamed it.
Because while you still saw the arrangement as something temporary and uncomplicated, Yuta had quietly started imagining a future.
One where he didn't have to sneak moments with you.
One where he didn't have to pretend your relationship meant less than it did.
One where he could hold your hand in public without worrying about crossing a line.
One where he could finally call you his.
The title "friends with benefits" had begun to feel wrong in a way he couldn't explain. So many times, after a passionate night with you both tangled up in bed he would stop himself from confessing his undying love for you and fought the urge to tell you how stupid this arrangement actually is. You talked about meeting other people, possibly going out on dates but him he was utterly devoted to you. His heart, mind, body and soul were just for you to take, even though your heart was up for grabs his wasn't.
These bottled-up feelings were taking a toll on him, you were driving him insane, he was losing sleep over you. He was passionate about you.
"Fuck this arrangement and fuck me for agreeing" he would mutter to himself every night.
You and Yuta never fought, your boundaries were loud and clear. You never crossed his and he never crossed yours. It worked because you two never had any sort of disagreements. The rules were clear, it was perfect.
If one of you needed space, the other gave it.
if one of you was busy with missions, there were no questions asked. It worked because neither of you expected more than what had been agreed upon.
But now?
Now Yuta expected everything.
And that was the problem.
The arguments started small.
neither of you noticed them at first. Yuta would make sharp comments when you would cancel plans, he would get irritated when you disappeared for days then annoyed when you mentioned spending time with someone else.
It didn't make sense to you because according to the rules neither of you had the right to be upset, which is why you aren't getting why Yuta has been frustrated. You notice his tone and bad mood towards you, he has been awfully sensitive. It had you overthinking now. was it the sex? is he bored of you now? either way both possibilities scared you because you have feelings for the dark-haired boy.
On the other hand, Yuta couldn't bring himself to tell you that seeing you with someone else or even laugh with someone else made something ugly and unfamiliar twist in his chest.
So instead, he got frustrated.
And frustrated people argued. The tension between the two of you grew. Unresolved feelings and because you were still following the rules and Yuta no longer wanted them.
Y/N
Days passed after the string of small arguments.
There hadn't been a word from Yuta.
Not a text.
Not a call.
Nothing.
Just complete silence.
It was strange—unsettling, even—because this wasn't like him. I knew he was busy. The higher-ups had been sending him on back-to-back missions for weeks, barely giving him time to rest between assignments. Normally, I wouldn't think much of it. Except I had gotten used to him.
Used to the random texts throughout the day.
Used to the brief calls after missions.
Used to him seeking me out whenever he returned to Jujutsu High.
Now there was nothing.
And the silence was driving me crazy. What if he was hurt? What if something had gone wrong on a mission?
What if—
What if he was avoiding me? My stomach twisted at the thought. Maybe he was tired of the constant tension between us. Maybe he hated me. Maybe he didn't want anything to do with me anymore.
I sighed and pulled my phone from my pocket, pacing back and forth across my dorm room.
Text him.
Don't text him.
Text him.
Don't text him.
The debate went on for nearly ten minutes before I finally gathered enough courage to type out a message.
I miss you. Are you there?
The second I hit send, I threw my phone onto my bed as if it had personally offended me. A groan escaped my lips.
Why did I send that?
Why was I so nervous? Yuta was supposed to be my friend. My classmate. My partner on missions. Nothing more. He was supposed to be the friend I occasionally slept with and nothing else. But lately, it felt so far from that. The rules between us were crumbling. And I was pretending not to notice.
Pretending I didn't see the way his eyes lingered on me.
Pretending I didn't notice how much his absence affected me.
Pretending I wasn't completely, hopelessly attached to him.
Because if I acknowledged it, everything would change.
All those dates I'd gone on over the past year suddenly felt meaningless. None of those guys had ever truly interested me. If I was being honest with myself, they had simply been distractions.
An escape.
A way to avoid confronting feelings that had been growing inside me for months. Feelings that always seemed to lead back to Yuta. Even Maki, Panda, and Inumaki were starting to notice.
The tension.
The lingering glances.
The strange energy between us whenever we were together. Whether we were sparring, eating dinner, or simply hanging out after class, they could tell something was different. Something was happening.
I was pulled from my thoughts when my phone suddenly vibrated.
My heart nearly stopped.
Yuta.
Yuta was calling me.
I stared at his name on the screen for several seconds before answering.
"Hey."
My voice came out quieter than intended.
There was a brief pause before he spoke.
"Hi."
His voice sounded different.
Tired.
Heavy.
Almost resigned.
"Can we talk tonight? I just finished this mission."
A knot formed in my stomach.
Something was wrong.
I didn't know what it was, but I could hear it in his voice.
"Yeah," I replied immediately. "Of course. Just let me know when you're back on school grounds."
"...Okay."
The response was barely above a whisper.
Then the call ended.
I lowered the phone and stared at the blank screen.
For a moment, the room was completely silent.
Then I grabbed the nearest pillow, pressed it against my face, and screamed into it.
Every emotion I'd been trying to ignore came rushing to the surface at once.
Frustration.
Relief.
Fear.
Hope.
And the terrifying realization that whatever conversation Yuta wanted to have tonight was about to change everything.
Yuta
After days of keeping my distance from Y/N, I finally realized something.
I couldn't do this anymore.
I couldn't keep pretending these feelings didn't exist.
I couldn't keep forcing myself to be satisfied with an arrangement that was slowly tearing me apart. The cursed spirits I've exorcised over the last few weeks have been unfortunate victims of my frustration. Lately, missions have become my therapy. Hours spent fighting, exorcising, and pushing myself to exhaustion just to avoid thinking about her.
The problem was that no matter how hard I tried, my thoughts always found their way back to Y/N. Every single time. As I moved through another abandoned building, searching for the curse I had been assigned to eliminate, my mind drifted back to the night all of this started.
Before the arrangement.
Before the rules.
Before everything became so complicated.
We had been partnered together for several missions beforehand. At first, it was purely professional. Two sorcerers working toward the same goal. But spending so much time together made it impossible not to grow closer. Long hours investigating.
Training together.
Watching each other's backs during dangerous missions. Somewhere along the way, she started understanding my burdens. And I started understanding hers. She saw parts of me that most people didn't.
The exhaustion.
The pressure.
The loneliness that came with being a special-grade sorcerer. And somehow, without even trying, she made those burdens feel lighter. The truth was that I had liked her long before we started getting paired together. I always thought she was beautiful. Always admired her strength. The way she carried herself. The way she could make people laugh even after the worst missions.
I had a crush on her before any of this happened.
I never told Panda or Inumaki.
Not once.
Because I knew exactly what would happen if I did. They'd never let me hear the end of it. Worse, word might somehow get back to her. And the last thing I wanted was to scare her away. Back then, simply being around her was enough. Now?
Now I couldn't imagine my life without her. The more time we spent together, the harder I fell. Until one day I realized I wasn't just attracted to her anymore. I was in love with her.
Hopelessly.
Completely.
I loved her smile.
Her laugh.
The way her eyes lit up whenever she talked about something she cared about. The way she always put others before herself. I loved everything about her. Every little detail. Even the small things nobody else seemed to notice. The softness of her hair whenever I ran my fingers through it. The way she would unconsciously lean closer whenever we sat together. The tiny habits that had become so familiar to me over time. I remembered all of it.
Every moment.
Every conversation.
Every touch.
And that's why I hated myself for letting things get this far. I shouldn't have kissed her that night. I had convinced myself it was a moment of weakness. A response to stress. An excuse. Anything other than the truth. But that single stupid kiss had changed everything. Because once I knew what it felt like to have her close, there was no going back. And somehow, we ended up here. Friends with benefits.
The title alone made me sick.
Because I never wanted this arrangement.
Not really.
I wanted her.
I wanted to hold her hand without worrying about crossing a line. I wanted to introduce her as my girlfriend instead of pretending she was just a friend. I wanted the exclusivity.
The commitment. The future. I wanted all of her.
Not because I wanted to possess her.
But because I loved her.
And tonight, I was done running from it.
Done pretending.
Done burying feelings that refused to stay hidden.
Tonight, I was going to tell her the truth. Even if it ruined everything. Even if she didn't feel the same. She deserved to know. As the gates of Tokyo Jujutsu High came into view, my stomach twisted into knots. I tightened my grip on my bag and took a deep breath. Then I started mentally rehearsing what I was going to say. Because after tonight, nothing between us would ever be the same again.
My thumb hovered over her contact for a moment before I finally pressed call.
The phone rang once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then she picked up.
"Hi."
Just hearing her voice made my heart pound.
"Hey," I replied nervously. "I'm here, Can I come by your dorm?"
There was a brief pause.
"Yeah, of course."
I thanked her and hung up before I could lose my nerve. The walk to her dorm felt longer than any mission I'd ever been on. I'd fought special-grade curses. I'd stared death in the face more times than I could count. Yet somehow standing outside her dorm room was infinitely more terrifying.
I stopped in front of her door and took a deep breath.
Then another.
And another.
Just knock.
My fist finally connected with the door.
Immediately, I heard movement on the other side. A few hurried footsteps.
Then—
"Ow!"
I blinked.
Did she just trip?
A second later the door swung open. Y/N stood there rubbing her arm, an awkward smile on her face. "Hi. Sorry. I tripped." A nervous laugh escaped me. Of course she did.
"It's okay."
She stepped aside.
"Come in."
I entered her room and suddenly forgot every speech I'd spent the last hour rehearsing. The door clicked shut behind me.
"So," she said, crossing her arms. "What did you want to talk about?"
Before answering, I looked at her. Really looked at her. And that wasn't helping my situation at all. She looked beautiful. As always. My throat felt impossibly dry.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
Concern flashed across her face. I forced myself to nod.
"I'm okay."
Barely.
"I just... really need to talk to you."
She sat down on the edge of her bed and nodded.
"Okay."
The room suddenly felt too warm.
Or maybe that was just me.
I loosened my tie and started unbuttoning the top few buttons of my uniform.
Y/N immediately noticed.
"Yuta?"
I froze.
"What?"
"Why are you taking your uniform apart?"
I looked down.
Right.
I was doing that. God, I was losing my mind.
"It's hot."
She stared at me.
"Yuta, it's freezing outside."
I glanced toward the window.
"...Right."
Her eyebrows furrowed. Now she definitely thought I was weird. I dragged a hand down my face.
"Listen," I blurted. "I'm just going to say it."
Her expression immediately became serious.
I started pacing.
"Yes, I've been avoiding you."
One step.
"And yes, I've been acting weird."
Another step.
"I'm sorry about the arguments."
Another.
"And the comments."
Another.
"I'm sorry for all of it."
"Yuta—"
"The truth is I'm in love with you."
The words escaped before I could stop them.
The room fell silent. I stopped pacing.
Y/N stared at me.
I stared back.
Neither of us moved.
Then, because apparently my brain had stopped functioning entirely, I kept talking.
"I've liked you for years."
God.
Why was I still talking?
"I liked you before we even started going on missions together."
Still talking.
"You made me nervous during my first year here."
Still talking.
"Honestly, I was just some awkward first-year completely obsessed with you."
My face burned.
"I thought you were incredible." Still talking.
"Then somehow we got paired together for missions and I thought maybe the universe was finally giving me a chance." I laughed nervously. It sounded terrible.
"I know that sounds ridiculous."
I started pacing again.
"I never wanted this arrangement."
The confession spilled out faster now.
"I agreed to it because being close to you was better than not having you at all." My chest tightened.
"But somewhere along the way that stopped being enough." I looked at her.
Really looked at her.
"I don't want casual." My voice cracked slightly.
"I don't want rules."
"I don't want to pretend you're just my friend." The words hung between us.
Raw.
Honest.
Terrifying.
"I want you." Y/N's eyes widened.
"I want to call you mine." I swallowed hard.
"I want to be the person you call after every mission."
"I want to take you out without pretending it's not a date."
"I want everything." At some point my pacing had turned frantic. My hands shook as I spoke.
"And I know you probably don't feel the same way." The words hurt more than I expected.
"And that's okay." It wasn't okay. But I'd survive. Probably.
"I've accepted that." A lie.
"I just needed to get it off my chest—"
Before I could continue, Y/N stood up. In two quick steps she was in front of me. Her hands wrapped around mine.
Warm.
Steady.
Grounding. I immediately stopped talking. For the first time all night. Because suddenly the only thing I could focus on was the fact that she hadn't let go. She looked up at me with soft, affectionate eyes.
"Yuta," she whispered, squeezing my hands. "I like you too." For a moment, I just stared at her. Certain I'd misheard.
"What?"
A relieved laugh escaped her.
"I like you too." The tension in her shoulders finally disappeared.
"I thought you were getting bored of me," she admitted quietly. "When you stopped calling and texting, I got scared."
Her eyes dropped to our intertwined hands.
"I genuinely thought you came here tonight to end things between us."
My heart shattered at the thought. Without hesitation, I shook my head.
"No." The answer came immediately.
Firm.
Certain.
"I could never get bored of you."
I stepped closer, bringing our foreheads together.
"Not when you're all I think about."
A small giggle escaped her.
The sound alone nearly made my knees give out.
"You have no idea how much I love hearing that." She reached up, gently cupping my cheek. The touch was warm.
Comforting.
Home.
Then she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss near the corner of my mouth.
My heart practically launched itself out of my chest. I felt invincible.
If Gojo called me right now and assigned me six special-grade missions back-to-back, I was convinced I could finish them before sunrise.
I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her against me.
A laugh escaped her as I showered her face with quick kisses.
"Yuta!"
She tried turning away, laughing harder when I followed.
"Yuta, stop!"
"No." Another kiss.
"Absolutely not." Another.
"I've been suffering for months."
She laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. I couldn't stop smiling. I couldn't stop touching her. After weeks of uncertainty, she was here.
She liked me back.
I wasn't dreaming. I held her close and rested my chin on top of her head. Then, suddenly feeling nervous all over again, I whispered:
"Please be my girlfriend, Y/N."
The words were quiet.
Hopeful.
Terrified.
She pulled back just enough for me to see the smile spreading across her face. Then she kissed me.
Slow.
Gentle.
Certain.
When she finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed.
"I'll be your girlfriend, Yuta."
I don't think I'd ever smiled so hard in my life.
Before she could say anything else, I scooped her into my arms.
A surprised squeak escaped her.
"Yuta!"
I laughed and carefully dropped her onto the bed beside me.
She was still laughing when I started tickling her sides.
"Yuta!"
"Payback."
"For what?!"
"For making me think you didn't like me back."
"That's not fair!"
Neither of us could stop laughing. And for the first time in months, everything felt easy again.
The tension. The uncertainty. The endless worrying.
It was gone.
No more pretending. No more rules. No more friends with benefits.
- one of the gentlest lovers of all time. being a special grade sorcerer, yuta knows that he's incredibly strong, but with you he drops all of that. he treats you with genuine sweetness, respect, and soft affection
- he goes out of his way to ensure that your needs are always met. he would hate for you to be dissatisfied
- he remembers all the little details you tell him. every favorite you've ever mentioned, he keeps it stored away in his memory for later. he'll often bring you a favorite food or drink when he sees that you've been neglecting to take care of yourself
- similarly, he is good at gift giving. he's incredibly thoughtful, but again he just remembers everything about you. he sees the way you look at stuff that you want but won't buy. somehow those items always become a gift whether it's random or for a holiday, birthday, or anniversary
- he is incredibly protective of his lover. not necessarily possessive, but he will do anything to keep you safe
- he is deathly afraid of losing you, the thought sickens him. as long as you're his you can rest easily every night. yuta is dedicated to being by your side
- he can be a bit obsessive sometimes, but it's just because he loves you so much. he is completely head over heels in love. that boy would do anything for you
- physical touch is one of his favorite love languages because he cannot get enough of showing you how much he loves you. he insists on kissing you as often as possible: good morning, good night, hello, and goodbye. everything calls for a quick kiss. yuta often finds himself reaching for your hand in public, his fingers needing to intertwine with yours. when he returns from long missions the first thing on his mind is being in your arms. he wraps you in a tight hug before pulling you in for a kiss. the rest of that night will be spent with him holding you in his arms and talking until you both drift off to sleep
- cuddling brings him a sense of relief and safety that he never felt before you. when he's with you he can completely melt into your touch and stop worrying about being a strong sorcerer. all he needs to be right now is your sweet boyfriend
- sleep comes easily for him when he's with you. he spends his days filled with unease and constant stress, but once he crawls into bed with you all those feelings melt away and his eyes feel heavy. you don't even need to be in bed for him to fall asleep against you. there have been several occasions where he has dozed off with his head on your lap or resting against your shoulder. he really needed the rest and you are his anchor of peace
- yuta frequently verbalizes his love for you. sometimes he fears he says, "i love you," too much, but he needs you to know it's true. before every mission he tells you he loves you, just in case it is the last time
- he can very easily pick you up, and often will pick you up, squeezing you with near full strength before realizing that he needed to tone it down. 95% of the time he is the most gentle boy you will ever meet, but that 5% of the time... it's almost scary how strong he is. most of the times he's done this were out of pure excitement, he'd been gone for a while and couldn't hold back the energy once he got to hold you. he profusely apologizes after and spends the next hour softly kissing your entire body and whispering sweet words to you
- in conclusion, yuta is the softest lover ever and he's completely addicted to you
💌 : : i am genuienly half asleep writing this but im trying to be consistent ish with my posts also tysm for 700 followers good golly i am so joyful i love you all so much and i lowkenuinely shed a tear at all the support you guys give me...
