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be-dazzled · 4 months

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Take It Off

Gojo Saturo x Iori Utahime Rating: R18 December 31, 2023

AN: On the last day of 2023, I'm posting my first one-shot of my current obsession. This was originally a twitter thread. But it grew to a 6k word one-shot. lol. Here's to hoping to write more gojohime and gruvia in 2024!

MASTERLIST

...

Utahime wasn’t sure how she ended up in his room and her current state. All she remembered was that she was in Tokyo for some important meeting, she and Gojo had a fight – a serious one – not the usual Gojo-was-an-asshole banter. But he was, an asshole to her, that’s why they fought. She walked away from him, not wanting to shed a tear at his stupidity. Yet, the heavens had other plans; they decided to cry for her. She ran for cover but the sudden downpour had already drenched her to her skin. She found temporary refuge under the awning of a coffee shop she didn’t recognize. Utahime didn’t dare go inside. As she waited for the rain to go away, or at least die down to a drizzle, she kept thinking back to their fight. Alas, her mind must have been thinking too much of him that it had conjured the man she wasn’t sure she wanted to see. Yet, so relieved to have been found by him. He brought her back to his apartment and offered to wash and dry her uniform.

She remembered now. That was the reason she was waiting for him in his room, for him to come back with her dry clothes before she traveled back to Kyoto. The same reason she was down in just her underwear, scavenging his closet with something of his she could put on as they waited for her clothes to dry. Something he wouldn’t miss. She found some old, raggedly black T-shirt, three sizes bigger than her figure. It was worn out and definitely, had seen better days but still soft to the skin. And smelled like Gojo. Utahime couldn’t help but take a sniff off the sleeve. His scent always had a reassuring effect on her. A single whiff and Utahime felt calm… safe. Like no matter how bad the situation was, they’ll always make it safe. When it wasn’t enough, she forced what remained of his scent from the collar of the t-shirt into her nostrils. If Gojo were to walk in on her right now, he might be creeped out by the sight of his girlfriend smelling his old, drabby shirt like an addict looking for a fix.

She noticed the print on the front, some parts of it had peeled off, and recognized it as the now-defunct band he liked in High School. One he had pestered her into going to watch the concert. She had reluctantly agreed then even if his taste in music never rubbed off on her. One OK Rock. Utahime never understood his taste in music. She was classical, he was not.

She should take his T-shirt off and return it. He probably didn’t appreciate him going through his things like that. He wouldn’t be happy to see her wearing something important enough to be kept, a treasure tucked at the farthest back of the closet, instead of being thrown out like the other old, worn-out things. But his shirt felt so good to wear for some reason she couldn’t quite explain.

Maybe because they just had a fight.

Maybe because it smelt like him.

Maybe because they hadn’t seen each other for weeks and she quite missed him.

She climbed to his bed, crawling underneath the sheets, letting the soft fabric engulf her, and touch the skin that couldn’t be covered by his large shirt. His lingering scent on the bedding embraced her whole body.

That must be it. She missed him. Missed his scent. Missed his arms around her. Missed his touch on the plane of her body.

But all he gave her was a heated argument after long weeks of not seeing, not embracing, and not touching each other.

Utahime turned her head on his pillow, burying her face in the soft cotton, letting it catch her words meant for Gojo.

“You idiot.”

She jumped right up and whipped her head to the door, almost causing her a whiplash, when she heard it push open.

“It may take a while, Utahime.”

His hair was down, the bandage around his eyes long gone, and replaced by black tinted sunglasses. Suddenly warping Utahime back to their student days when he was an arrogant, bratty teenager. Years later, he still was arrogant and bratty although nothing about him screamed innocent and naïve. But when he took off his blindfold and let his hair down, Utahime was brought back to those days when he was just an annoying kohai and nothing more.

Gojo stopped in the middle of his tracks as he made his way to his bed, when his eyes, all covered by the dark lenses of his specs, landed on Utahime’s figure in the sea of his bed.

“Wh-what are you wearing?”

Utahime could not read his expression. The windows to his soul were still covered by the dark shades. But his tone was harsher than he intended as if Utahime had no right to it. As if her wearing his shirt was a capital offense.

“Oh, this.”

Utahime swung her feet over at the edge of his bed, letting the duvet fall off of her, and stood beside his bed, playing with her fingers a bit anxiously.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask first.”

It only hit her now how much he must have hated it, Utahime going through his things and wearing what probably was one of his favorite shirts without his permission. He was the kind who hated to share, apparently. Even with her. Even if she badly needed it.

She thought he’d understand.

He walked in long, purposeful strides. When he stopped right in front of her, his sudden proximity forced Utahime to tip her chin and look up at him. He was just so damn tall. His shades fell a bit off the bridge of his nose, giving Utahime a glimpse of his blue eyes. But she still couldn’t read his expression. She could only assume that he was mad with what she did as she watched his brow furrow and his jaw clench.

“Take it off.”

Utahime couldn’t believe it at first and thought she just misheard him. But when she considered that Gojo might have said what she thought he said, despite herself, it made sense. It dawned on her that she must have exaggerated her importance to him. Because how could he not allow even this slightest generosity between them?

“I promise to give it back–”

“–take it off, Uta-hime.”

“I… I’m not… wearing a-an-anything underneath.” She confessed in a small voice hoping he would reconsider.

But he didn’t.

“Take it off…”

He wouldn’t.

“or I will.”

His expression had turned dark then and that’s something Utahime recognized.

Cautiously, and with obvious hesitance, Utahime crumpled the hem of Gojo’s black shirt in her fists. She found the act he asked of her too much – too intimate, too daring – too much. Just like him. He waited for her to do as he commanded, she could see it. In the way his breathing became shallow, in the quick rise and fall of his chest. Utahime should be proud that the simplest task of her removing the shirt had that kind of effect on Gojo Satoru, the Strongest Sorcerer of this generation. That she had the power to reduce him to something so simple and so primal – simply a man.

A funny thought crossed her mind. Not funny in a way that it was laughable but more on how it was ironic that in the years that he had teased poor Utahime, she could easily get him back now. She watched sharply as Gojo’s tongue wet his lips, anxiously waiting for a peek of what was hidden underneath the black fabric. Utahime felt like she had grown a foot or so, realizing she had the upper hand now.

So, slowly, as she watched Gojo’s face twitch, and the expensive sunglasses, that protected him from Utahime finding out about the hunger brewing in his blue eyes, sliding down the bridge of his nose, Utahime made a show out of taking his shirt off her.

It was her time to tease the proud sorcerer with how excruciatingly and painfully slow she pulled the shirt up her thighs, passing up her pelvis, teasing some red fabric.

Red and black. That was quite different from what he was used to.

She saw a glimpse of his hands, how they were trembling on either side of him. For a moment, she wished his hands were the ones taking his shirt off of her. But he refused to move and allowed himself to watch only and not touch.

The hem of his black tee now brushed up against her bare stomach. Utahime saw Gojo gasp at that, lips slightly parting to let out some of the tension brewing inside.

Oh, his mouth.

His glorious mouth quivered at the anticipation of seeing her fully naked. His want. His desire for her. To have her. To own her. At that sight, Utahime felt that familiar tugging at the lower part of her belly. By reflex, she tried to suppress it but her body refused. Her body wouldn’t allow her to suppress this delicious feeling. In an act of rebellion, her chest felt tighter and her breasts heavier. Sensitive. So much so that they ached when the soft fabric of the shirt grazed her nipples with the smallest movement.

This was bad. This was so bad for Utahime.

She was losing the game.

She paused at her navel, feeling too exposed now. If she wanted to put a stop to this, to what Gojo was planning with this ‘take-it-off’ nonsense, now’s the best time to do it. Weren’t they just fighting earlier? That was something they needed to settle first before anything. But Gojo wasn’t taking his eyes away from her body, on the skin revealed for him to feast his eyes on.

“Gojo…” she willed him.

His blue eyes flicked back at her brown ones when she paused. Even so, it didn’t break the spell that her movements had on Gojo. When neither of them moved, it became clear to Utahime that the Strongest sorcerer had no plans of putting a stop to this. By extension, she couldn’t either. But in her desire to not let Gojo win, Utahime swiftly pulled the shirt over her head and pressed a shielding arm over her breasts.

That part, at least, she was going to deprive him of as punishment for all the nonsense he put her through, starting from their argument this morning.

But Gojo Saturo was not to be punished.

It almost scared Utahime how the man turned feral. He tackled her to his bed, his sunglasses fell off the floor with a silent thud, and pushed her up to the middle of the mattress. His sunglasses might have cracked at impact but Gojo seemed to not care at all. In a fluid maneuver, Utahime found herself pressed beneath him on his bed, both arms pinned by the wrists, just above her head. She was fully exposed to him, to his eyes – bright, blue and raging – preying on every inch of her body. His blue orbs were absent of that gentleness they held when he made love to Utahime.

The muscles below her stomach contracted at the realization that Gojo wasn’t going to be her lover tonight. He was going to fuck her. Mess her up for what he thought was Utahime’s crime against him. She felt a sudden ache between her legs and tried to relieve it, trying to shut her legs close. She couldn’t. Not when she had a two-hundred-pound flesh of a man squeezed between them.

Utahime squirmed beneath him, willing all her strength to free herself from his hold. Biting down the moans threatened to tumble out of her lips. All caused by that delicious friction between her core brushing up against the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Gojo!” Her voice started strong and authoritative, brown eyes glaring at him, only to be negated wholly by the whimper that managed to escape her mouth. “Uhn.”

He laughed at that. At her.

But before she could scold him, Gojo crashed his lips against Utahime’s – a granite kiss against her velvet lips. All her complaints died in her throat, melted by the lewd noises that took place in their stead. It had been a while since the last time he was this rough on her. Just like the first time they finally gave in to the undeniable attraction between them.

His free hand roamed her body, sliding from her wrist down the length of her arms, the skin on it growing hot and sensitive – inch by inch. But when he reached the arch of her breast, his touch turned urgent. Squeezing her mound as his tongue explored the depths of her mouth. It was driving her crazy. The tension his rough hand kept building inside her had no way of escape. The spark that he had kept fanning with his rough touch and bites threatened to explode inside her unless she could find some way to allay it.

Maybe if he allowed her to touch him. Or if she removed his mouth on hers so she could plead with him.

Gojo was greedy and cruel and selfish.

He would push Utahime to the edge and swiftly retreat before she could dive freely into the depths of her orgasm. He sought the other parts of her body he knew he could ignite but refuse let flourish. Such a spoiled brat. A kid on Christmas, running about excitedly, unsure which gift to open first.

He was always like that, with every reunion – planned or not. Both of them actually, throwing themselves at each other, letting the months they spent apart and the lustful voracity it cultivated fumble their hands all over, desperately unwrapping each other. This time, however, Utahime was bereft of any control. The Utahime before his scrutinizing eyes was a fully unwrapped present, one Gojo could not wait to indulge himself with.

He removed his mouth from hers, too abruptly in her opinion, and freed her wrists from his grip. He gave Utahime a window to catch her breath, only the slightest generosity he allowed her. Then crawled backwards to position his mouth at her center. Leveled his lips over the red lace that hung low on her hips, which Gojo was ready to rip apart along with the most special reward that hid beneath it – his first meal of the day.

He licked and lapped and slurped, sucking with an open mouth over the fabric of her underwear. But he did it so slowly, so excruciatingly and painfully slow that all Utahime could do was cry and plead. He was a fucking contradiction, shifting from slow to harsh in a flick of a switch. The center of her red lace was so wet – with his saliva co-mingling with her arousal – that Utahime didn’t even realize she was still wearing underwear. Not until Gojo opened her folds and dragged the flat of his tongue over her very core – tasting Utahime’s bare nakedness. She jumped at the wet and hot feel of his tongue, reflexively jerking her hips up his face – as if begging for more.

She didn’t know exactly what it was about Gojo and his mouth and tongue that got her all crazy, all messed up that her mind just went dark after an initial shock, like how a circuit breaker shortens then bursts. And when the fog clears, when somehow Utahime managed to think again, she propped herself on her elbows and watched Gojo feast between her legs. It was such a fucking turn-on – Gojo finding use for that foul mouth of his other than tease and annoy her. And that was driving her off the edge.

But not quite. She wasn’t there yet – close, so close – but not yet. Utahime wanted more, needed more.

Gojo knew exactly how to push her over – so he drew circles on her clit with the pad of his thumb and slid his tongue into her cunt. It was a whole new fucking sensation.

And it made Utahime sing.

Sing her song of praises, of pleas, and finally of her orgasm. Utahime shook and trembled in Gojo’s hands as he pushed her things apart, spreading them wider so he could unobstructedly drink in her juices. The sound of him slurping echoed around his room, the tip of his nose prodding on her swollen clit. The dangerous combination had set off another orgasm. He was cleaning up but inadvertently made a mess of her a second time.

Then his talented mouth and tongue were on hers again, giving Utahime a taste of herself. She was used to her own taste just as she was accustomed to his. If they followed the usual order, Utahime would be on her knees now giving Gojo the same pleasure he just let her experience. Drive him crazy with her hand and mouth too. She motioned to push herself off the mattress and nudge her man on his back, but Gojo was going off script. He seemed to enjoy kissing her. He alternated between sucking on her bottom lip and darting his tongue into the cave of her mouth. His full weight on top of her, pressing her into the mattress again, both her hands now pinned back above Utahime.

He was firm about her punishment of not letting her touch him.

Gojo felt perfectly comfortable between Utahime’s legs. His mere build and size spread them apart. Without heeding Utahime’s requests, Gojo slid his tongue at the side of her neck, licking and sucking skin, leaving marks on areas he knew well couldn’t be covered by the collar of her kosode. Bite marks on places that would raise her students’ brows when they see her tomorrow in school. But that was Utahime’s problem. This was still part of her punishment for a crime she didn’t know she committed.

But Gojo deemed himself forgiving and generous. He wouldn’t torture Utahime without an accompanying pleasure. Pain and pleasure, they were always intertwined. So, as he continued his onslaught at the dip of her breasts, Gojo grinded his hips against her cunt, earning a loud moan from his prisoner. He did it again, rubbing his bulge against her naked cunt and grinding to his own beat. The fabric of his jeans abraded against her naked core, the sweet friction prodded Utahime towards the edge. A sudden urge knotted her stomach - a sudden need to be filled up by him. She was already at a point where Utahime was aware his mouth and tongue weren’t enough anymore. Not even his dexterous fingers could offer her the relief her body longed for. Utahime needed Gojo to fill her up.

Utahime squirmed under him and moved her hips to match his. It was her silent way of saying, she needed him inside her now.

“Sa-Sa-to…ru…”

But Gojo refused to listen.

“Sa-Sato…ru-mnm.”

And Gojo Saturo refused to let her speak. He had full dominion over her whole body. Utahime could only climb to her peak when he said she could. She would only climax if Gojo allowed. Gojo was done with her when he said he was done with her. Until then, he was going to give her a taste but not the full course.

Not yet, at least.

Utahime swore against his mouth, losing her mind at the sensation of something vibrating against her thigh.

It was his phone ringing in his pocket.

Utahime groaned in protest when his mouth left hers and his hips stopped moving. He fished out the phone in his pocket and tossed it on the side without even checking who it was that was disturbing them. It landed beside Utahime, giving her a glimpse of the caller ID. Ijichi was calling.

Gojo ignored the phone and returned to his onslaught of her neck, biting then sucking. His phone went to sleep and then vibrated back to life. Still Ijichi. The name and the implication of his persistent calling were enough to sober Utahime up, yanking her back to reality.

“Gojo, it’s Ijichi—ahh!”

Utahime’s senses may have returned but Gojo was still on high and her mentioning Ijichi’s name had Gojo bursting a blood vessel. He unceremoniously sank his teeth into her skin as punishment. Letting another man’s name slip out of her lips while he pleasured her was another capital offense in his book.

“Hey! Ugh.”

Utahime fought against the delicious mix of pain and pleasure, mustering enough strength to rip her hands free from his hold.

“Gojo!”

She might have been a bit harsh there, gripping the locks of Gojo’s hair in her fist and pulling him off from the hollow of her neck to get his attention. But true to Gojo fashion, he liked some little pain, letting out a groan of pleasure.

“It might be urgent.”

Utahime stared into his blue eyes, watching his dilated pupils slowly readjust to the situation. His face was still flushed, hair all messy from Utahime’s pulling, half his face covered in Utahime’s saliva or cum or both but his gaze was still so hungry.

Gojo rose to his knees, combed his hair with his fingers, and evened his breath as he did. When he could finally form words, Gojo ordered Utahime to stay where she was. The look on his blue eyes demanded her to not move even a muscle until his return. Then, Gojo fully detached himself from her.

He wasn’t in the room anymore. His absence allowed air to blow on Utahime’s damp cunt. The cold snapping her legs closed. Utahime was left alone in his room. Gojo’s heat and curse energy he brought with him as he went out to meet Ijichi at the main door, she assumed. Utahime climbed down the bed to look for his discarded t-shirt on the floor and pulled it over her head. She didn’t have to look at herself in the mirror to know how messy her hair was. She must have looked crazy.

Utahime sat down at the edge of the bed and waited, remembering Gojo’s stern order for her to stay right there. A muffled conversation traveled to where she was. Gojo might have let Ijichi inside his apartment as the exchange got a little louder. Straining her ears to hear more clearly, she realized it wasn’t an exchange. Only Gojo’s voice was loud – almost violent. Utahime could only imagine how scared Ijichi might be receiving the grunt of Gojo’s frustration.

Utahime expelled an exasperated breath. She ought to appease her man and save poor Ijichi from his misplaced fury. Only she could do that.

“Get lost!”

Gojo’s loud voice and rude behavior pulled her off the bed and towards the door when suddenly, his bedroom door swung open. Utahime didn’t get that far when Gojo stepped through the frame, and back into the bedroom. He frowned at her when she clearly disobeyed his instruction not to lift a finger off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Was that Ijichi?”

“What’s it to you?”

After all that went down on that bed, Utahime couldn’t believe he was still as unreasonable as he was this morning. Granting, all they did was for Utahime’s benefit and Gojo has yet to have his turn, that was his fault. Utahime offered to suck his dick but he pinned her down and dry-humped the life out of her.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Now she’s mad.

But Gojo only answered her by repeating his earlier question.

“I asked where you were going.”

She didn’t feel obligated to answer him but still she did because his eyes were seething in anger. Utahime knew she shouldn’t fight fire with fire or they’d both burn to ashes. And since, apparently, she’s the only adult in this relationship, because Gojo was being on a whole new level of brat, she expelled a breath to calm her nerves.

“You were screaming at Ijichi for no reason. I was coming to get you.”

Just a few strides with those long legs and Gojo was standing right in front of Utahime, affronting her again.

“In this?”

In his shirt that only reached above the knee? Without underwear? With her still fucking wet and leaking with her own juices? Gojo saw red.

“Are you out of your fucking mind, Utahime?”

Utahime shuddered. It was the first time she saw that kind of rage in Gojo. She took a step back, trying to put some safe distance between them but Gojo wasn’t having it. He matched her steps until the back of her knees hit the side of his bed.

“Gojo…” She coaxed him because Gojo looked ready to pounce at anything. She knew Gojo was never going to hit her. But with the way he clenched his jaw and gritted his teeth, he looked like he was capable of doing so. She knew better not to poke the angry bear. “ss everything okay?”

Gojo didn’t respond and Utahime felt like melting under his heavy stare. But she willed herself to gulp down her apprehension because Gojo would never hurt her. Not without her permission, at least. She managed to take a step toward him. If she wanted to understand this stranger, if she wanted to tame this animal, she needed to show him that she wasn’t afraid. She reached out to him, gently placing a hand on his cheek. There was no need for a safe space between them.

“What’s wrong?”

“He’s still a man, Utahime.”

That’s it. That was the cause of their fight this morning. When some stranger was, in Gojo’s crazy eyes, being overly familiar with Utahime. When that punk opened the door for her at the restaurant, offered to lead her to their table for the meeting, and tried to place a hand on the small of her back which Utahime later shrugged off as nothing but just him being polite.

Gojo wasn’t a jealous man. They could freely flirt with his Utahime because she would never entertain them. Not when Gojo existed in her world. He was the center of it. No man could come close.

But he couldn’t help but feel like sticking his fist down the throats of any men who would try to touch her or even think about touching her. Any man.

But wasn’t it enough that he was the only one allowed to touch her? To see her naked? To fuck her senseless, drive her crazy, and mess her all up?

“He’s your friend.”

“A friend who would still think about fucking my girlfriend in my fucking shirt.” He spat.

“Gojo!”

It was ridiculous. Such a ridiculous notion that Utahime had to reprimand that type of behavior.

Gojo didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to give her further shit. He knew he was wrong. He knew he was being petty and ridiculous. But he was right. No man in their right mind would find Utahime in that shirt and not think about touching her. Because that’s all he could think about.

Utahime flinched when Gojo suddenly tugged at his t-shirt that she was wearing.

“Didn’t I tell you to take this off?”

Utahime ought to punish that nonsense. If he was going to act like a child, Utahime would treat him like a child. She should just march out of that room, get onto the next train and leave for Kyoto. That should teach him a lesson. Easy. So, she must have been really out of her mind when she told him…

“You do it then.”

She must be really out of her mind when she let him fuck her raw for the first time. Utahime must have gone completely mad when she lets him cum inside her twice.

...

Then morning came and Utahime was first to wake, not by choice. She grumbled at the urgency to rise and return to Kyoto. She retrieved her uniform from the drier, which Gojo completely forgot to turn off. Her clothes were a mess – shrunk and completely unwearable. Now she had to raid his closet again, look for something appropriate for the train ride back to Kyoto, and suffer the fuss he was going to make out of it. Since he made so much of a big deal about wearing his t-shirt yesterday. She was contemplating her choices as she scanned his hanged clothes and folded jeans when a pair of arms snaked around her waist, both palms resting comfortably below her belly. She caught a whiff of his scent when the owner of those arms peppered her exposed shoulders with light, lazy kisses.

“Up so early?”

Utahime could place her own smell on him too.

“I need to hurry or I’ll miss the train.”

At the reality of her leaving back for Kyoto, Gojo tightened her arms around her and pulled the distracted Utahime against him. His feather kisses made their way up to that special place where the neck met the shoulders.

“No need to rush. I’ll teleport you.”

Utahime was the one who broke the comfortable embrace they were in, turned around to face him.

“How convenient that you forgot to offer to teleport me yesterday.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. Her seriousness was undermined by the way she rose on her toes to wound her arms around his neck. Gojo threw his head back laughing. They both knew he wasn’t going to let her leave Tokyo without a good pounding. Nay, the best. He was going on a long mission after today and he wasn’t sure when he was going to be back. It was the news that Ijichi lamentably brought to him last night. So, of course, he was going to fuck her hard so she would have something to look back to when she felt the need for release and he was not yet around to give it to her. Same as for him. He needed that mental image of Utahime riding him, bouncing on his cock, and screaming for more as he slipped in and out of her locked in his memory for the nights that he could only touch himself. Now, he had a new one to add to the vault – Utahime holding onto him as Gojo rammed into her and begged him to cum inside her.

“Hime, are you sure it was okay for me to…”

Utahime distractedly hummed an answer as she was now the one placing feather kisses on his exposed neck, mirroring what Gojo was doing to her earlier.

“What if you got the dates wrong?”

It wasn’t a problem for him, actually. If it happened, they were both old enough to raise one. It’s going to be a big change but it didn’t scare Gojo. What terrified him for a second was Utahime’s answer.

“Then I’m going to be a single mom.”

Fear crossed his face until he saw a glint of humor in her brown eyes.

“As if I’ll ever let that happen!”

Nope. His pride and his clan’s honor would never let him knock Utahime up and leave her. Most especially, not his feelings.

He kissed Utahime on the mouth, this one had them both tumbling into his closet, knocking the tower of piled clothes and grabbing on the ones on the hanger. She was still wearing his t-shirt, the same one that caused all that commotion last night. Utahime moaned into his lips when Gojo lightly brushed his hand up her thighs and realized her red lace was still lying around somewhere on the floor of his bedroom.

Reading his intention, Utahime told him she was going to be late for her class. Gojo probably didn’t hear her or refused to heed as he hoisted her up around his waist, eager to get some second round of Utahime loving, or was it third or fourth? He lost count.

“Gojo!” She laughed without breaking the kiss as Gojo walked them both back to his bed.

She plopped on the mattress still chuckling when Gojo turned her over on all fours. He pushed the shirt off her in one swift maneuver. Apparently, he was used to it and was now an expert at taking clothing off of Utahime.

In that position and with his hard cock pushing its tip into her wet opening, Utahime was singing a different tune.

“Do you have a condom? It’s a bit risky today.”

The anticipation of Gojo pushing his full length into her, filling her to a halt, had Utahime breathless, shaking and trembling.

“What’s life without risk, Utahime?”

Gojo unceremoniously pummeled his full length into Utahime, so deep and so full. The tip of his cock kissed her womb. It felt so fucking good that Utahime took the lead even in that position. She pushed herself forward, Gojo’s hard dick sliding out of her vagina until the tip remained inside her, then pushed herself backward, sheathing him completely within her walls again. They kept at it until Utahime cried in ecstasy and Gojo sowed his seed into her. That’s three times now. Utahime let Gojo cum inside her three times before he finally teleported them to her bedroom in Kyoto. There, Utahime let him cum a fourth time.

Rude was a description that perfectly described Gojo. Never one to be polite. So, he didn’t wait for Utahime to finish showering when he followed her into her bathroom and pressed her against the wall. This time, he shot his cum on her back just for the fun of it, earning a slap on his arm. Whatever extra time they gained from teleporting they squandered with Utahime flat on her back, then her stomach, then, finally, all fours. It wasn’t until the Kyoto sensei only had a minute or so before the bell rang did Gojo agreed to teleport her to the school. She gave him one last peck on the lips before she started toward the building.

“Iori!” Gojo called after her.

Utahime turned around, one brow raised at him unusually calling her by her last name. Gojo never called her Iori.

“Enjoy it while you can.”

Gojo lived to torment her, that’s what Utahime thought the whole day. She couldn’t fully concentrate on her lessons because of what he said before he disappeared on his long mission – the little fucker! – leaving Utahime to deal with her overthinking.

What did he mean? Enjoy what? Being his girlfriend? Did that jerk plan to play around with other women while he was on that long-ass mission and get rid of her after he came back? She called him to clarify but she had more questions than answers after he hung up.

What the fuck was he playing at? Would he really break up with her after she let him fuck her raw? After he shot his load inside? The fuck.

Utahime went to bed seething. Half accepting that if the gods decided to fuck her life up, she’s gonna be a single mother. Even if their relationship was now common knowledge, she’s gonna say she slept with a rando and he split. Let people think she one-upped the Great Gojo Saturo. Half hoped he was just pulling her tails with his vague, stupid answers. When she decided she was ready to put this Gojo-issue to bed, she felt a breeze blow at her back, a familiar disturbance in the air caused by his teleportation. She wasn’t going to turn around to face him. She was mad at him. Even if he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him on the bed. She’s gonna stay mad at that crazy idiot of a boyfriend. Even if she felt a different warmth when he sneaked his hand inside her shirt and felt her belly for something that still wasn’t there. Even if that kind of answered all her questions and resolved all her doubts, she was still going to turn his back on him. Served him right for causing that kind of mental torture on poor Utahime.

The next morning, he didn’t wait for her to wake up. He probably left early before anyone from the mission noticed he was gone. But something was different in the air that morning which Utahime couldn’t put a finger on. She felt lighter but also heavier at the same time. When she passed by her dresser, she saw his note, which read:

SINCE YOU CAN’T WAIT

IMPATIENT SENPAI.

P.S. DON’T LOSE IT OR I’LL PUNISH YOU

Not even a signature on the note but she could tell by the childish handwriting. She flipped the piece of paper over to look for some explanation of what this thing was that she couldn’t lose.

That’s when she saw the silver ring on her finger and felt the weight of the band for the first time. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep the sobs from escaping.

So that’s what he meant. Iori. She should enjoy being called Iori-sensei as long as she could.

Because soon, she will be Gojo Utahime.

Her body felt so heavy that all Iori Utahime could do was let gravity pull her down on the floor and bawl her eyes out.

“You idiot.”

#gojohime #gojo x utahime #gouta #gojo satoru #utahime iori #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #gojohime fanfic #gojohime mature #be-dazzled #jealous gojo #menace gojo #gojo's a little jerk #gojohime smut

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be-dazzled · 4 months

Text

All Treats, No Tricks

Gray Fullbuster, Juvia Lockser October 31, 2023 Posted: Decemebr 26, 2023

Writer’s Corner: Months too late but I think the timing worked for me. The ending sounds and feels more wintery/christmas-y, isn't it? I don't feel like this one's good enough as compared to my Juvia Day entry so your honest feedback is very much welcomed. Help me improve!

All rights reserve to Hiro Mashima, original creator.

Masterlist

...

The cold season rolled in and seeped throughout the grounds of Magnolia. Its silent breeze knocked puny, tree branches against locked windows. It howled through the night, prowling the silent grounds of sleeping citizens. For those who made the mistake of forgetting to lock their windows, the October breeze pried into their room and wreaked havoc on all that it could carry. Easily targeted all that weighed close to none. Especially ripping off the pages on the wall calendar and revealing today’s date – October 31, Halloween.

After the fiasco that was the Fairy Tail Horror House of X791, that type of event was forever banned in the town of Magnolia. In its wake a new tradition was born where families were invited to decorate their homes to win lovely prizes, even encouraging them to hand out candies to children going around house to house, mage guilds included.

Rather than eerily quiet, Halloween in Fairy Tail was fun and lively.

The troublemakers – Natsu and Happy – had a good idea of wearing costumes to scare off the children who, in the words of Natsu the Demon King, “dared to enter my house of terror,” punctuating it with a high-pitched maniacal laugh that did not, at all, scare a living soul. But he was enjoying chasing after children who somehow believed Demon Kings existed and that they were ridiculously funny. Erza, wearing the shortest (skimpiest but no one dared to say it) witch costume, took up her sword and pretended to battle the Demon King. She was acting, she claimed but Lucy, the only writer in the room argued that it was an inaccurate depiction and didn’t make any sense plot-wise. Why would a witch have a sword when she had magic powers? But who would take a Leopard Girl seriously? Donned in a tight-fitting onesie that hugged her body like a second skin and accentuated all her dips and curves, Lucy the Sexy Leopard lost all credibility.

A certain ice-make mage, on the other hand, found it all juvenile. Yet, Gray was pursuing kids around the guild, the end of his tape costume riding the wind as he did. He wasn’t a scary mummy, he deduced, since instead of screams of terrors, the guild was filled with children’s ecstatic cheers and giggles. Well, half giggles and half scandalous because the end of Gray’s mummy tape got stuck on some pillar and pulled, making him a half-naked, pervert who happened to wear pants made of strip linen.

Erza smacked him on the back of the head.

So inappropriate.

But not as inappropriate as the thing that he was about to witness.

Juvia, Fairy Tail’s resident water-mage, wasn’t too comfortable with her assigned costume so she kept herself hidden backstage. She watched in the shadows as her comrades showed off their costumes, parading around the Fairy Tail building, welcoming their guests with booze (for the adults), colorful drinks (for the kids) and some imaginative snacks. She wondered how come the only thing that connected her decorated brassiere and the underwear that covered her nether region was just strings snaked around her torso. She asked Erza about it but the only answer she got was the mesh material on her head, some sort of see-through veil, its length reaching her waist but covered nothing. Plus, the heavy and expensive accessories around her neck, arms and wrists made the look less racy than it actually was. They lent her some air of distinct. She did a once-over in front of the mirror, twirling around to inspect herself and couldn’t help but think she might be missing a piece on her costume. Maybe a skirt to cover her lower body? Because she swore her bottom was hanging out.

Erza said the long veil on top of her head covered it enough and that she should stop worrying about it.

She really should worry about it.

Even if Mira and the already drunk Cana assured her that she would be the envy of the room and would surely get Gray the Half-Naked Mummy’s attention. The latter was enough encouragement though, which emboldened Juvia to come out of her hiding. That and finding her self-declared love rival enjoying her time with Mummy Gray, her beloved. She charged towards the two, about to bring hell to the Leopard Girl, when a soft breeze touched her exposed skin and Juvia had another think coming. But it was too late. She was out in the open now and everyone was hollering and whistling at her ensemble. As she watched her comrades strut around in their own Halloween costumes though – the moon princess Mira-chan; vampire Lisanna; Elfman and Evergreen in a couple’s costume ala Adam and Eve; the Thunder Legion Tribe in what appeared to be some sort of forest creatures (were they supposed to be Pokémon and was someone supposed to collect ‘em all?); and archery goddess Wendy – Juvia felt like she pulled the short end of the stick.

Because what the hell was she wearing?

It was a fucked-up gypsy dancer costume if you asked Gray. Beautiful, he’d go as far as saying it was nose-bleed-inducing, but definitely fucked-up. He wasn’t too happy about that.

Even Cana was modestly covered in her own fucked-up priestess costume.

People – ugly men, irritating old geezers, boys that weren’t Gray-sama – started coming up to Juvia with Macao and Wakaba in the lead. She made it obvious she wasn’t comfortable with their attention but the crowd had already gathered around her. She searched for the black spiky hair in it but found her precious Gray-sama still standing beside Leopard Girl. Summoning all her magic power, Juvia immediately fell into her fighting stance, about to tsunami all those perverts out of the way when her vision turned pitch-black.

“Eh?”

She extended her arm to feel for anything, anything at all, that could explain why she was instantly blinded, only to feel strong fingers grab her wrist and whiz her away from the complaining crowd.

“Eh!”

“I guess this is safe for now.”

She didn’t need her eyes to know who it was. Juvia could recognize that voice anywhere, even when it was broken by huffs.

“Gray-sama…”

“Oh, that’s right.”

He swiftly released his grip on her hand and Juvia pouted at the loss of contact. A sudden chill replaced the warmth that encircled her wrist. She didn’t like it.

“Sorry about that.”

“No!” Juvia cleared up, in case he might take it the wrong way, “Gray-sama shouldn’t apologize.”

The water mage wasn’t sure where they went or how far they had come from the guild. But wherever Gray was, she was always safe with him.

“You saved Juvia from the commotion.”

A commotion caused by her inappropriate appearance, Gray ought to say but decided not to. Instead, he said a terse ‘It was nothing’.

Her ears might have deceived her but Juvia could place a grin on his voice. She could imagine that small curve of his lips, wanting to see it with her own eyes but something was still blocking her view. Something soft and rather silky, heavy on her crown too. It covered her from head to toe. She clutched the unidentified veil in her fist and realized it was the same fabric as the covering of the long table back at the guild. Juvia tried to pull on the cloth, trying to get rid of the covering when Gray started speaking again.

“…something like that.”

The covering muffled Gray’s words. As she was trying desperately to uncover herself, Juvia only caught the tail end of what he was saying. She stopped for a moment, tipped her head to the side, deciding whether to ask him to repeat what he said, which would give Gray the impression that she wasn’t listening to him, or just pretend as if she heard him.

Sensing her confusion despite the wall of fabric between them, Gray repeated his words, this time a bit louder and very much clearer than earlier.

“Don’t wear something like that.”

It took her a moment to realize but Juvia caught on to what the ice-make mage meant. It was her scant costume. Remembering how some cloth and some strings strategically covered those areas, Juvia internally agreed with Gray. She shouldn’t be wearing something like that again, nodding her head furiously that she might just break her own neck.

“In public.”

He added before clearing his throat and inviting Juvia to walk around the neighborhood, not giving her an opening to say anything back about his last comment. Juvia had the tendency to twist his words, or rather, which was always the case, point out what exactly he wanted to say but couldn’t.

Don’t wear something like that in public.

He meant only to wear it for him in private, right?

Gray started toward the direction of the crowd, where most people were scattered in small groups. He was saying something Juvia was not able to hear through that thick white covering hanging over her. She followed where she assumed Gray was headed, straining her ears to listen to his footsteps whilst she blindly soldiered on through the veil-made darkness. The water mage was starting to get frustrated with the covering she’d been trying to get out of since earlier. Despite her efforts, she couldn’t find the beginning or end of that long, thick fabric weighing down on her with a smooth but consistent fall, much like her magic – a curtain of water.

Ironic.

And why was Gray not helping her at all? It wasn’t like he was busy keeping quiet since he had all the time in the world to run his mouth about god knows what. His talking was like a soft buzz in Juvia’s ears – a distant noise that didn’t make sense.

Despite the cold breeze and the fact that she was practically naked inside, her body was starting to feel hot. A sheen of perspiration started to form over her skin. The heavy covering not only successfully blocked her view but also any air in and out of her fabric jail.

“G-Gray-sama…” She called out but the thick veil separating them blacked the words out, “…help Juvia~”

Gray hadn’t paid her any attention (deliberately ignoring her or unintentionally forgetting, Juvia wasn’t sure) until the poor water mage kicked on an uneven terrain and tripped. She braced herself for impact, throwing her hands in front of her as she was about to fall on the pavement, face-first. But the impact never came. Instead, Juvia’s body was pressed against something hard. Not as hard as she remembered pavement should be though. Curiosity spurred Juvia to explore this not-a-pavement surface, flattening her palms on what turned out to be Gray’s firm pecs, the slightest bump giving her the idea that she might just be… touching on Gray’s...

She rubbed them just to make sure.

“Uhn… Ju-Juvia…”

And kneaded for better measure.

“T-that’s… he-hey…”

She was definitely right.

Gods do exist!

Juvia could hear the strain in his voice. And something else. Something she wasn’t familiar with. But worry bumped curiosity off first place. Gray sounded like he might be in pain and the idea horrified Juvia that she might be the reason for it. He did break her fall and she was comfortably using her as a human cushion. So, she slid her open palms lower, eliciting more low and strange noises from the man beneath her. She ignored the noise in favor of resting her hands over what she assumed was Gray’s abdomen, intent on pushing herself off him to free her poor savior from his distress. She was a little bit sorry that she had to use his body to do so. Which, unbeknownst to Juvia, was stirring something in Gray that should not be stirred. Not when they were in public like this.

Oh, if Juvia could see the ice-make mage’s reaction now – gritting his teeth and clenching his jaw.

She successfully leaned away, readying to pull her knees so she could prop herself up and fully get off of poor Gray when a cold breeze whizzed past them, magically finding the end of the frustrating veil and blew the hem of the fabric covering her body. Gray was a hero the second time when he slapped that cloth back to its rightful place. Saving the water mage from the embarrassment of public indecent exposure.

“Eeep!”

But bumping her to another level of embarrassment.

Gray only realized where his hands were touching when Juvia’s body wiggled and twisted above him. The force of his ‘heroic act’ slammed Juvia flatly on top of him again.

“G-Gray-sama felt Ju-Ju-Juvia’s bottom!”

She muttered, fidgeting at the heat that spread over both cheeks, either because Gray’s hands were still cupping her ass or the mere force of his slap, or both.

“So, G-Gray-sama was into this kind of… s-s-stuff?” She whispered to herself.

But that wasn’t a whisper. It was more of a loud musing because that one Gray heard through the fabric barrier between them.

“No!” He strongly denied it. “That’s… I’m not… hey!”

For a good minute, they were a tangled mess – him trying to, but very much cautiously, push her off of him, slipping on the fabric when he tried to stand up with Juvia still on top of him, and her trying to pull herself away from him, which proved to be a struggle since Gray just couldn’t stay still. It didn’t help that the thick cloth separating them from each other was too silky and slippery to the touch.

Gray could only cry how that freaking veil was the devil. The devil! And he quickly regretted whisking the long mantle off the table to cover Juvia with, until they finally detached themselves from each other. Both were breathless from the endeavor.

Passersby threw them ugly looks, which made Gray realize that covering Juvia with the table mantle was not one of his brightest ideas. He tried to rearrange the cloth, so that Juvia was still fully covered (her fucked-up costume hidden), but made it so that her head was popping out of the makeshift ghost costume so at least she could see where they were going and avoid another mishap. The water mage, thank goodness, stood still and quiet, as Gray secured the long textile around her neck with a knot made of his mummy tape. He smirked at his creation, proud of his quick thinking. Then broke into cackles he tried to suppress but couldn’t, scrutinizing her attire – a Juvia floating head. Now, that’s a true Halloween costume.

“Gray-sama shouldn’t be laughing at Juvia.” She bemoaned. “Not when he’s looking like that.”

Gray followed her eyes down his lower body to realize he was stripped down to his G x J boxers, using up what remained of his mummy tape costume on Juvia.

“Whoa!”

It was Juvia’s turn to laugh at him. But Gray took no offense to it and joined in, the both of them laughing together and at each other in their poor state. They were so stuck in their own world that Gray belatedly noticed the scandalized glare thrown at both of them – mostly on him – especially by children who were often told to wear something in public.

Gray scooped Juvia off the ground (which was totally unnecessary by everyone’s account) and whisked the water mage, a second time, away from the crime scene.

Young couples are too bold nowadays.

It’s probably because of the full moon.

...

Gray hid them at some back alley. He surreptitiously peeked through the corner, with an unusually quiet water mage still carried in both arms. Only after making sure no one was following after them, not the police or an angry mob, that Gray could finally puff a relief. He settled Juvia on the ground as gently as he could. And wondered why she was running out of breath when Gray did all the running.

“Are you alright, Juvia?”

“Y-y-yes.”

She stuttered. Round blue eyes were spinning like wheels on the run.

“Erm… are you sure?”

She sure didn’t look okay.

Gray was so accustomed to Juvia that he could read her like a book. Every word and every sentence he could easily interpret. And this reaction from her was probably caused by him bolting her away. He should have thought of his actions thoroughly because who knows what Juvia’s creative imagination must have conjured of him holding her in a bridal carry.

Gray and Juvia’s wedding? Them on their honeymoon, crossing the threshold into their master bedroom? Probably, both.

He settled a hand on her shoulders. The thick eyebrows on his forehead were knitted – quite bothered by the possibility that she could still slip into her imaginary land when she had the real thing right in front of her now. Unlike before, Gray had become more receptive to her feelings. And unlike before, he made conscious actions to show that he returned those very feelings. Had he not made it clear to her?

“Juvia…”

His coaxing willed Juvia back to reality, to where she and Gray were in a back alley hiding.

“Juvia is okay, Gray-sama.”

Her blue eyes returned to normal and Gray could slip a sigh of relief. Without a need to worry now, Gray retrieved his hand and suggested they come back to the guild when Juvia’s made-shift cloak started to come undone. Her Halloween costume – the brassiere connected with some barely-there knots – peeked through the opening and threatened to reveal itself in its full glory. Which was bad for Gray for the following reasons: a) Juvia was still half-lying on the ground; b) they were in some dark, back-alley; and c) they were alone in that dark alley.

And d) he was still just wearing his boxers.

“Ju-Juvia!”

But it was Gray’s fingers that yanked the edges of the loosening drape and clasped them together against her chest. Another bad idea of Gray’s now that his fists were pressed down against her breasts. Soft and quite big. Not that it surprised him. He was very much familiar with how Juvia’s breasts felt to the touch. Not that he openly touched them either. Opportunities just happened to present themselves to him. Oh how tortured and conflicted he was. That stirring inside his stomach earlier was rapidly brewing into something that shouldn’t be brewing.

“Uhn…”

What a cute voice!

Damn, it was like the universe was trying to tell him something.

Gray yanked his evil hands and put them back to his side. Away from Juvia’s soft mounds.

“S-s-sorry.”

But that lecherous costume was taunting him again, the deep valley of her breasts peering through the slightest opening. He ordered himself to look away but his sinful eyes did not stray even just a little. So, he chose to just fight the rising heat that burned his cheeks. If she asked, he could blame that one on the weather.

Gray cleared his throat. Thinking that by doing so, Juvia might not notice him ogling. He reached out his hands and started to tighten the mummy tape again around her neck. There was a crisp silence between them, which Gray appreciated. Juvia’s focused gaze at his hands was reason enough for him to struggle to steady his fingers as he looped the tape. But in the end, he was able to fix it.

“All done.”

She thanked him with a lovely smile – the kind that always followed him in his dreams. The warm smile that kept him company when he was alone. The low howl of the October breeze made him aware that they were in a dark alley where people scarcely passed through. It had a wicked way of conjuring today’s moments that the courteous Gray would rather tuck safely into the back of his memory – when Juvia stepped out of hiding in her inappropriate costume; when he unintentionally spanked and cupped her butt-cheeks; when Juvia rubbed her palms over his breasts; and when he fastened the ends of the cloth and accidentally pressed on her soft mounds. These memories he’d rather bury in the depths of his consciousness and only unearth them when he was alone.

Right now, he wasn’t alone. He was with Juvia, the star of those evoking memories, in a place where there was little to no chance of anyone walking in on them if Gray allowed some of his dreams to come alive. Clandestine. He stopped that thought and suggested they walk back to the guild. He needed the exercise.

Juvia pointed out to him his current state and Gray miraculously found some cloak flapping with the wind, hanging outside somebody’s window. It was black, a total contrast to Juvia’s white ones. He figured no one was going to miss that drabby old cloak.

As they took the route to the guild, Gray considered walking Juvia to Fairy Hills instead. But remembered he was barred from showing even just his shadow there. His ban has yet to run its course so the guild – the very place they left earlier – was the sensible place to go, especially since he and Juvia were just wearing make-shift coverings that could unravel anytime. They had to avoid crowds.

Gray was deep in thought when a flash of blue caught his eyes. He snapped his head in its direction, eyes widening in awe at what his vision revealed.

“Look Juvia!” He pointed the all-smiling, happily distracted Juvia to a decorated house where three or four children were walking up to its stoop. “It’s you.”

Juvia followed the direction of Gray’s pointing and scanned the surroundings for anything that resembled herself or whatever it was that reminded her beloved of the water-mage. Surely, it must not have been the waving tube decoration, flapping around something that, when you squint your eyes at the right angle, resembled arms. Or the scary-looking life-sized doll made of blue hay, wearing what appeared to be a blow-up replica of Juvia’s hat. That must not be how he saw Juvia, right?

Without receiving an answer to these questions, Juvia was suddenly yanked against Gray’s side. One arm hung over her shoulder; the weight pulled them both down to a crouch like they were hiding. Their cheeks were close, sharing a border, but not touching, not yet at least. They were just close enough for Juvia to feel his breath on her now-flushed cheek when he covertly spoke to her.

“That one. She looks exactly like you.”

Juvia caught herself gawking at him, at Gray’s face which was fully and resolutely turned to the direction where he was pointing her to. She felt slightly guilty about that because one, that wasn’t even the first physical touch they’d shared just counting the ones they had tonight (not the most daring one either); and two, Gray was heartily showing her something. So, Juvia summoned her focus and followed his direction – towards the girl who was giddily jumping at receiving tons of candies into her basket, the kid version of Phantom Lord Juvia. She was donned in Juvia’s blue winter coat, a teru-teru bozu hanging by the clasp of her collar, and a cute Juvia hat merchandise sitting neatly atop her little head.

Juvia felt a pang in her heart. It was her in the rolled hairstyle the water mage got rid of to forget about that version of her. As the little girl skipped down back to the main road, Juvia felt sorry for the little girl. No child should model after her. Back then, she wasn’t her best self. She was strong yet lonely. Isolated by her own rain. Physically attractive yet gloomy that warmth and fun were foreign concepts to her. A smile, a true warm smile, had never even touched her lips. Simply, ugly. If she could only keep that image to herself and tuck it away where no one else could find it, she would have done so.

The Juvia of the present, the Juvia after joining Fairy Tail, after finally being accepted and loved for who she was and who she was not, was unquestionably the best version of herself yet.

But that twinge was pushed away by the slight curve of Gray’s lips. Warm. Affectionate. Proud. He was still looking at that little girl, at kid Phantom Lord Juvia, with eyes full of interest. Never left her figure as she turned around and hollered at the other two girls on the walkway. Her other two friends looked like shrunken versions of other Fairy Tail members, slowed down by their argument about who collected more candies between them.

“There’s Erza and Mira-chan too.” Gray chuckled. “Brings me back.”

Juvia forgot all about her own thinking, dumbfounded by the look on Gray’s face. Even when the curve on his lips was subtle it was also telling. Because Gray could picture so clearly how the actual Erza and Mira-chan, when they were at the same age as those kids, would squabble over the smallest and silliest things. Much like the kids rounding up their group of three with Juvia-chan. His mind flew to that rare moment when all the kids in the guild were huddled up together in an unusually peaceful group waiting out the night. Simply remembering pulled the corners of his mouth into a small smile – not wistful, not longing, just… content.

Before he even thought of it, Gray was already starting on his feet, with Juvia following closely behind and then, naturally, fell beside him. Stepping into the same stride, the same pace as his. Juvia had caught up to him again, naturally. It had been like that between them for years now. Words have become so moot and inadequate. It was as if they were operating on feelings alone. Like it was the only way they could clearly and completely convey their inner thoughts. And so, with no invitation required, Gray and Juvia explored the neighborhood, feasting their eyes at the sight of scattered children in all sorts, shapes and colors of costumes.

The children walked up to houses. Their eyes shone at the treats dropped inside their baskets. Some ran out screaming in terror, receiving childish and mean scares instead of sweet treats. Others gleefully skipped along the side of the road while peeking inside each other’s loots. The two Fairy Tail mages, however, glowed in pride at the insinuation that the kids put Fairy Tail in such high regard to dress up like them, as members of the strongest guild in the whole of Fiore.

Wasn’t it that imitation was the highest form of flattery?

Out of nowhere, Gray and Juvia started a contest of whoever could spot and recognize Fairy Tail look-alikes more. They discreetly point the children to each other – finding a little Lucy with a mermaid Aquarius who can walk on foot in this version, or the entire Lightning God Tribe whose version of Laxus put on some balloons in place of the original’s muscles.

They spotted another Juvia, this one much younger than the first one they saw earlier, around five or six years old maybe, donning polka-dotted leggings. She had a long-haired older boy in her tail, who she addressed as onii-san, carrying her basket for her. It was quite a picture for Gray, the little girl scolding the older kid, who both Gray and Juvia agreed resembled an Iron Dragon Slayer. At least, even in make-belief, Gray got to see Gajeel being ordered around.

They strolled deeper into the neighborhood and found out that the wizard costumes were not limited to Fairy Tail mages. Gray even flinched at a spitting image of a young but much more handsome (in Gray’s biased opinion) Lyon Vastia. But Juvia noted his mood became even livelier when they met the Lyon impersonator, despite Gray-sama’s act and words of displeasure. At that, Juvia hid a chuckle behind her hand, which Gray noticed.

They hadn't walked that far from where they met and were greeted by a polite version of the fire dragon slayer, when Juvia noticed Gray’s mood turn sullen, even if he tried to hide it with a small but dry grin. She ha dan inkling why. They must have seen ten or twenty versions of Natsu but not a single one of the ice-make mage.

Even Juvia wasn’t happy about that.

“Gray-sama…”

“You want to go back?” He jumped in, not liking the way she looked and sounded worried.

Gray already knew what she was about to say. But it seemed he’d rather not talk about it. Respecting his feelings, the water-mage simply returned his smile, hers understanding and much more genuine than his forced one.

“If Gray-sama prefers.”

“Alright then.”

They turned around, about to take the path back to where they started when something round and hard hit Gray right at the stomach.

“Sorry, Oji-san!”

A small boy bumped into him with a force enough to sway Gray but not to make him lose his balance. He first checked that his basket of candies was intact before the little boy with messy black hair beamed up at him, his smile was pulled so wide that his eyes were almost shut. Cheeks all puffed and flushed and chubby and cute.

He probably got away with anything armed with that smile.

“Greige?!”

But like the other kids his age, the boy quickly abandoned the stranger he bumped into and caught up with his friends.

“Wait for me!”

Gray quickly spun around. A seed of hope sprouted within him, urging his feet to move. He wanted to follow the kid and confirm his suspicion but his own logic stopped him, rooting him in his spot. That would have been impossible. How would Greige cross over Earthland? That boy might have been wearing a zipped-up coat with fluffy collar, the same one Gray remembered Greige of Edolas was wearing, but how could he cross over to their world? Impossible.

Hope had sprouted into longing.

“Greige?”

Juvia’s confusion and Gray’s sudden realization that Juvia was still completely unaware of their child’s existence in another world, pulled him out of his reverie.

“Um… I said ‘engage’.” He quickly lied, feeling warmth rise to his cheeks despite the cold October breeze blowing at them. “I thought he was an enemy or somethin’.” Yet even to him, he wasn’t that convincing.

But how was he supposed to tell Juvia he saw a kid who could pass as a doppelganger of the son they would have in the future but who was already existing as the child of Gray Surge and Juvia, a version of them who were already married and lived and breathed in Edolas?

If Juvia knew about their Edolas counterparts, she would sulk all week and demand that they too get married and make a baby. They weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. They haven’t even kissed! Through no fault of Juvia, of course. Even though she had given her consent to it in no limited terms, Gray just didn’t… he just wasn’t… confident enough.

“Let’s go back, Juvia.”

“Oh, okay.”

He wounded a firm arm around Juvia’s shoulder and secured her at his side to stop the water-mage from looking back at the boy who reminded Gray of his future son. He chanced a last glance at him though and decided his hair was too spiky and a shade lighter than the boy in his memory. He was too tall and too animated to be his prim and proper little Greige.

His mind was probably playing tricks on him.

“Greige.” Juvia tested the name on her tongue. She liked the sound of it, she told Gray, making the man sweat a little.

“H-h-hey Juvia, I told you that’s not what I said.”

“He looked a little bit like Gray-sama, didn’t he?”

Gray couldn’t seem to understand, or rather that he couldn’t believe how Juvia’s soft eyes, that loving gaze that seemed to be only directed at him, had always been a source of comfort. He couldn’t at all wrap his head around the phenomenon of her smile shining so bright to the point that it was blinding, yet he was incapable of looking away.

“You think so?”

She just made a sound, a cute little hmm, eyes now glistening with that gentle mix of pride and joy. Gray couldn’t even fathom how Juvia could grow even more beautiful each day.

Gray glanced back at the boy reuniting with his friends, looking for his own qualities in him. Maybe his dark, unruly hair could be attributed to the ice-mage but the little boy was wrapped in a winter coat, and Gray was known for unwrapping himself from any clothing.

No harm in imaging it though, that maybe the little stranger was copying Gray.

He wasn’t.

Gray wasn’t imagining it when the boy with unruly hair pulled his elbows back to form some sort of hand stance. He definitely did not need to humor himself when he heard the kid say “ice-make…” and pretended like magic power was coming out of his open palms and attacked his friends.

Maybe if Gray got over himself…

“Juvia… are you cold?”

“Hmm?”

And step out of that darkness that was holding him back.

“My place…”

Then maybe…

“… is nearby.”

He didn’t need to imagine anything anymore.

“Yes, Gray-sama.”

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