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bungalowbear · 3 months

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good wife

naoya zen’in x reader, wc: 2,750

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

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

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

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

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

But all good things must come to an end.

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

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

You had no choice but to accept.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry to disappoint,” you said bitingly.

The man looked like he was on the edge of throwing a tantrum. His eyes darted from side to side before he abruptly turned and ran off, literally hand in hand with his weapon.

You watched him until he disappeared around the corner of a building several blocks away, but your relief was short lived. A sudden wave of dizziness overcame you before collapsing onto the hard surface of the street.

When you came to you realized you were being carried.

“You’re safe.” The deep timbre of Nanami’s voice soothed you instantly. “I’m taking you to Ieiri.”

When you arrived at Shoko’s location, Nanami set you down carefully before leaving once more. She kneeled down in front of you and placed a hand over your ribs. You hissed as you felt the thrumming of her reverse cursed technique against your bones as she healed your wound. When her treatment was completed her usually dull eyes widened as she placed both hands over your torso.

“Shoko?”

She didn’t respond right away. Another sensation warmed you this time, something less repairing and more probing.

“I can feel two heartbeats.”

You didn’t need her to elaborate.

When the sun finally rose, you were permitted to leave. As you neared the edge of the perimeter you took out your phone and sighed at the several missed calls and texts from Naoya. News must have spread throughout the jujutsu community about the events that transpired, and your husband no doubt would be beyond pissed you had to be here in the first place.

Before you could contemplate whether to call him back or not, your name was called out. You raised your head and felt your body freeze at the sight of Naoya standing only a few yards away, along with one of your attendants from the estate.

You lowered your chin to your chest as he came forward. His eyes sat heavy on the tear in your shirt from where you’d been cut. You raised your eyes slightly and weren’t surprised to see his gaze now on your hand that rested over your stomach.

Suddenly, you were thankful for Shoko’s diagnosis.

“I am with child,” you confessed, hoping to lessen his wrath.

“Take her home.” Naoya raised his head. He looked past you as he spoke, addressing the attendant. “Clean her. Feed her. She is not allowed to leave our quarters until my return.”

He said nothing more before walking past you and deeper into the devastation that was Shibuya.

The Zen’in estate was admittedly quite lovely in the early autumn. The mixture of green and orange of nature’s transitional stage was always a sight you liked to take in. If only you were allowed to actually see it.

The door to your quarters opened and Naoya entered, followed by an older man who you assumed was the physician. He examined you and confirmed you were pregnant. About six weeks along.

“I haven’t experienced any morning sickness,” you said.

“That’s normal. About one third of pregnant women don’t experience it at all.” The physician spoke to you kindly, unlike most people you encountered in the estate. You were somewhat relieved by this. “Have you experienced any fatigue? Or tenderness in your breasts?”

“Both, actually.” You felt Naoya’s stare and wrapped your hands around your torso. “I thought it was just work-related stress.”

“There’s no need to worry. Plenty of rest, moderate exercise, and balanced meals will help you feel better and keep yourself and the growing child healthy.” The older man rose from his spot beside you. “I’ll return in a few weeks for another examination.”

Naoya and the physician spoke briefly at the door, mainly about the necessary changes to be made to your diet, before he departed. Your husband returned to your side and stood above you, looking down with a triumphant grin.

“In case it wasn’t clear, now that you’re carrying my child you won’t be returning to Tokyo.”

“But the binding vow—”

“Do you actually think after that incident I’d allow you to go back?” Naoya frowned. His tone was scolding. “You barely made it out alive.”

You knew that being his wife meant deferring to him, but that still didn’t stop you from advocating for yourself, spoken in a whisper, “I still have two more months.”

“I know.” Naoya rolled his eyes. “Which is why I’ve already arranged for your transfer to Kyoto.”

“But—”

“You never specified where you’d work. Did you?”

“No.”

“Exactly.” He crossed his arms, turning his back to you. “So just be grateful that you have such a benevolent husband to make these exceptions for you.”

“Whatever,” you mumbled.

Naoya turned his head to the side. “What was that?”

“Thank you, Zen’in-sama,” you said, louder this time.

“Don’t look so glum. Once your time as a manager is over you’ll be able to focus solely on your duties as my wife. And everything will finally be as it should.”

During Maki’s storming of the Zen’in estate, Naoya had been killed. He then reincarnated as a cursed spirit and was defeated once more. The stubborn bastard was truly gone.

You spent the rest of your pregnancy in a house in the countryside owned by the Zen’in family. A cook, two attendants, and a midwife were assigned to accompany you.

Nearly every night of your pregnancy you had a recurring dream, more like a memory really, of the day you and Naoya were married. In your dream you watched from afar as your two figures clad in the traditional uchikake and montsuki marched side by side dutifully beneath the large red parasol. Sometimes you were in the procession heading into the shrine, and other times you were standing on the small bridge built over the nearby creek waiting for your photographs to be taken. You remembered the current of anxiety that flowed through you, only soothed by the delicate pink petals that floated down from the trees.

After your daughter was born the dreams stopped.

You held no doubts that if your husband were still alive he wouldn’t hide his disappointment of his firstborn not being a boy. Although Naoya was traditional is almost every sense, your actual marriage to him was not conventional in the slightest. You’d only spent a couple of weeks truly living together before his death, but most of that time was spent fussing over your condition. You realized too late that Naoya had his own way of showing affection. Perhaps if you had more time together you could have understood it better and harnessed its potential. You were very experienced at managing delicate situations after all.

You could’t say for certain whether you were, or could become, a good wife. The only goal you’d spend the rest of your life trying to achieve was to be a good mother. In this new age of jujutsu, you’d guide and protect your daughter as she came of age and her cursed technique was revealed. You’d treasure her despite being the spitting image of her father.

But in the deepest part of your heart you knew that without Naoya you wouldn’t have been able to create the miracle of life that was your Sakura, named after the cherry blossoms that surrounded her parents on the day of their union.

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