a-cross-the-universe

[a-cross-the-universe]

ugh sorry for the lack of updates lately 😩 I’ve been stuck in a bit of a writer’s block and it’s been really hard to finish my fanfic. I do have something written, but I’m not totally happy with it yet. I think part of it is because Nagumo hasn’t shown up in Sakamoto Days for a while, and honestly it’s killing my motivation 😭 like how am I supposed to channel his chaotic energy when he’s been MIA??

that being said, I might start posting other fanfics I’ve been working on—some Slam Dunk, Ace of Diamond, and even a little something for John Carter from ER (yes, I’m still thinking about him lol). just trying to keep writing and stay inspired.

for now, “Sharp Tongue” is officially on hiatus 🥲 but not abandoned!! just taking a break. thank you all so much for your patience and support 💕 it really means a lot 💖

[a-cross-the-universe]

Am I the only one who never finishes TV shows? Like, I didn’t finish Buffy the Vampire Slayer, ER (1994), Supernatural—and probably a bunch of others I can’t even remember right now. I usually have different reasons depending on the show.

With Buffy, I love it so much that I don’t want it to end. It’s such a good show that I kind of pretend it’s not over if I don’t finish it. Does that make any sense?

ER was just too emotionally heavy. Carter almost dying, Lucy’s death, his addiction, Mark getting cancer and then dying... It was a lot. I only made it to season 5 because I was emotionally drained.

Supernatural was kind of the same. All the stuff with Dean dying, Sam losing his soul (yeah, I’ve seen the spoilers), Dean going to hell, and the whole “chosen children” plot—meh. I liked it better when they were just going on hunts, taking out a ghost or demon, and moving on to the next case.

I guess I’m super picky with shows. I start watching for a specific vibe, and if it changes too much, I just lose interest. You could say I’m a bit “square” like that.

[a-cross-the-universe]

STOOOOOOP. GLASSES? HE'S SOOO CUTE.

[a-cross-the-universe]

Paging Dr. John Carter, MD: Mildly Jealous

John Carter x f! reader

***

It was supposed to be a peaceful lunch. After back-to-back shifts at County, the smell of espresso and the soft jazz playing from the corner speaker were almost enough to make you forget the ER even existed.

Almost.

John Carter leaned forward, scanning the menu with lazy interest. “Should we split a sandwich, or are we doing the ‘order too much and regret it’ thing again?”

Before you could answer, the curly-haired waiter returned, notepad in hand and an annoyingly persistent grin stretched across his face. “Ready to order, gorgeous?”

You blinked. “Um…”

“Right,” Carter cut in, keeping his tone light. “We’ll have the club sandwich with extra pickles, and she’ll have the tomato bisque. That sound good, babe?”

You nodded, caught between amusement and awkwardness. “Perfect.”

The waiter’s eyes lingered. “You sure I can’t interest you in something a little sweeter? On the house.”

Carter gave a tight smile. “She’s got plenty of sweet already, thanks.”

“Oh?” the waiter said, either oblivious or pretending to be. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

When he finally walked off, Carter leaned back in his seat with a disbelieving scoff.

“Persistent,” you said, sipping your water.

“He’s either got nerves of steel, or no survival instinct.” Carter shook his head, eyes narrowed playfully. “Honestly, it’s impressive. Like watching someone juggle knives and not realize they’re on fire.”

You smothered a laugh behind your hand. “You’re not… mad?”

“Jealous? Sure,” he said casually. “But mad? No. I’m just waiting to see how long it takes him to crash and burn.”

The next twenty minutes were more of the same—more compliments, more glances that lingered way too long, more Carter trying to stay cool while clearly simmering under the surface. At one point, the waiter brought you an extra cookie “just because you deserve a treat,” and Carter just smiled.

That should’ve been your first warning.

Because the moment the waiter walked away again, Carter slid his chair closer to yours, leaned in, and said with a calm that was far too quiet, “Alright. That’s enough.”

You barely had time to blink before Carter’s hand was cupping the side of your face and he kissed you—firm, deep, and without the usual teasing he gave when you were in public. This was possessive. Deliberate. His fingers slid into your hair, and you could feel him smiling against your mouth when you melted into it, momentarily forgetting anyone else even existed.

When he pulled back, your lips tingled and your head spun. “Okay,” you breathed, blinking up at him. “That was…”

“Effective,” Carter finished, clearly pleased with himself.

You glanced around. The waiter had definitely seen. He stood frozen a few tables away, face slightly pale as he adjusted his apron and made a hasty retreat behind the counter.

“You really just—” you started, wide-eyed.

Carter shrugged, sipping his coffee with the calm satisfaction of a man who had won. “I tried the polite route. But apparently, some people need subtitles.”

You laughed, cheeks warm. “You jealous dork.”

He leaned in again, voice low and smug. “I’d say ‘jealous,’ but let’s be honest—I just really like kissing you.”

“Mm,” you smirked. “Well… maybe I’ll let a few more guys flirt with me if it means more kisses like that.”

“Try it,” he said, already moving in for another. “See what happens.”

The afternoon sun peeked through scattered clouds, casting a warm glow over the quiet landscape as you and Carter strolled down the street, hand-in-hand. The air smelled like roasted coffee beans and fresh pavement, but all you could think about was that kiss.

“You know,” you said, glancing at him sideways, “I can’t tell if I should be flattered or concerned by how fast you went full ‘this-is-my-woman’ in there.”

Carter gave you a smug look. “Flattered. Definitely flattered.”

You smirked, swinging your hand in his. “Mmm… I don’t know. That guy was pretty cute.”

Carter slowed, eyeing you. “Don’t.”

You bit your lip, fighting a grin. “What? I’m just saying, if you hadn’t been there, I might’ve—”

He stopped walking. “You wouldn’t have.”

You leaned in, all mock-seriousness. “Maybe I liked the attention.”

“Oh, you liked it?” Carter asked, eyes narrowing with a smirk. “Is that why your cheeks turned pink every time he called you gorgeous?”

“That was the lighting,” you deadpanned.

“Sure,” he muttered, pulling you close by the waist.

You tilted your head at him, playing innocent. “So… if another guy flirts with me tomorrow, are you gonna make out with me in the middle of the grocery store?”

“Don’t test me.”

“Or what?”

Carter leaned in, his lips brushing your ear. “Or I’ll make it so obvious you’re mine, that guy will be too afraid to even bag your groceries.”

You laughed, heart flipping. “John Carter, you cannot just go around intimidating men with your Doctor hotness.”

He stepped back, looking pleased. “That wasn’t hotness. That was strategy.”

“Mm. A very jealous strategy.”

He raised his brow. “You seemed pretty into the kiss.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference. “I mean… it was alright.”

Carter blinked at you. “Alright?”

“Seven out of ten,” you teased, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, really?” he said, pulling you back toward him with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to do better next time.”

You let him wrap his arms around you, already anticipating that “next time” with a grin. “I’ll be sure to find someone even bolder.”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmured, and then kissed you again—right in the middle of the sidewalk.

***

WHAT A TIME TO BE ALIVE!!! I watched ER like 3 YEARS AGO and was DESPERATE for John Carter fanfic — LITERALLY FOUND CRUMBS. CRUMBS!!! And now??? With The Pitt and Noah Wyle being all over the place??? WE'RE EATING (finally!!!) I REPEAT, WE ARE EATING!!!

I’m SO OBSESSED with him it’s actually embarrassing but also I have no shame BYE.

#JohnCarterSupremacy

💖

[a-cross-the-universe]

      SHAPR TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f!reader | Part X: Heat Beneath The Tension 🔥💖💫

                                   ***

You woke up at 3 a.m. to the sound of someone snoring lightly.

Nagumo had fallen asleep in the chair, arms crossed, head tilted back. His weapon leaned against the corner, and his jacket half-slipped off one shoulder.

You stared for a moment, heartbeat annoyingly loud. Then you reached for your phone and snapped a picture.

For insurance. Or blackmail. Probably both.

                                   ***

The room was finally quiet. No nurses, no Shin or Lu barging in, no beeping machines or sterile overhead lights. Just sunlight seeping through half-drawn curtains, warming the scratchy blanket on your legs. You were dressed again in civilian clothes—well, what passed for them, anyway—and had your bag slung over one shoulder.

Nagumo leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you with that unreadable smirk.

"You gonna miss the five-star treatment?"

You snorted, tugging your zipper higher. "Definitely. Loved being stabbed with needles and told to rest every five minutes. A dream, really."

He tilted his head. "You gonna miss me?"

You hesitated—just for a second—but that was all it took. His grin turned sharper, like he’d caught you blinking during a spar.

"You were here maybe twice without Lu or Shin acting as chaperones."

"Yeah, well," he said, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer, "you don’t exactly make it easy to get a moment alone."

You met his gaze. He was close now—close enough that if you leaned forward even a little…

You looked away instead. “You didn’t have to stay.”

Nagumo’s voice softened. “Didn’t want to be anywhere else.”

Your chest tightened. The easy way he said it, like it wasn’t a big deal—like it didn’t knock the air out of you.

You shifted your bag. “So... that night.”

He raised an eyebrow. “The one where you pretended to be asleep and definitely didn’t hear me say something embarrassing?”

You smiled faintly. “Yeah. That one.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Still stand by it. I didn’t mean to screw things up between us. I just… I didn’t think you’d take it that hard.”

You looked at him, really looked. “It wasn’t just about the mission. You were the one person I thought I could trust.”

Silence. Then, quietly:

“I want to again. But you can’t keep pushing and pulling like this.”

Nagumo’s face was uncharacteristically serious. “Then let’s stop pushing. Just… tell me what you want.”

You exhaled. “I don’t know yet. But I want to figure it out.”

He smiled—small, almost hesitant. “That’s a start.”

You turned to the door. “Come on. I’m getting out of here before they try to inject me with vitamins or something.”

Nagumo opened the door for you, mock bowing. “After you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, brushing past him. He followed with a smirk—and maybe, just maybe, a little less tension between you.

Outside, the sun was warm, and for once, things felt almost normal.

                                    ***

Week 1 after being discharged from the hospital.

It was a slow afternoon at the shop, the kind where the sun came in through the blinds in golden strips and even Shin looked half-asleep at his station.

You were perched on a stool by the snack shelf, flipping through an inventory sheet. For whatever reason, Nagumo had decided that his new favorite pastime was hovering. He leaned over your shoulder, close enough that you could feel the whisper of his breath against your ear.

“Your handwriting still sucks,” he murmured.

You didn’t look up. “Thanks for the input. I’ll make sure to write your name extra ugly on my kill list.”

“That mean I’m finally making the top spot?”

You turned a page. “Depends. How long are you planning to keep breathing on me like that?”

He tilted his head. “Wouldn’t dream of stopping. You smell nice. Like antiseptic and danger.”

You shot him a flat look. “You have a thing, don’t you?”

“Only for deadly women who tried to kiss me in hospital beds,” he said casually, plucking a pen from behind your ear and spinning it through his fingers. “And then pretend they didn’t.”

Your cheeks betrayed you with a slow burn, but you held your ground. “Pretty sure that was you.”

He smirked. “Semantics. Let’s test it again sometime. For science.”

“Oh my god,” Shin muttered from across the room.

Lu let out a groan and dropped the magazine she was reading. “Nope. That’s it. Time out.”

You and Nagumo looked up at the same time, innocent in unison.

“What?” you asked.

“I knew something was up,” Lu said, pointing between the two of you like she was holding a grudge. “The minute you walked in, it was like watching a tension-filled rom-com, but with more knives.”

Shin added, “I’ve seen hostage negotiations with less intensity.”

You blinked. “We’re just talking.”

“Yeah,” Nagumo said, slouching against the counter with the most obvious fake-casual tone ever, “just a little banter between friends.”

Lu raised an eyebrow. “Right. ‘You smell like danger’ is how I greet all my friends too.”

You tried not to laugh. Nagumo didn’t even bother hiding his grin. You did glance at him, though—and of course, he was already looking at you again. That lazy, too-sure look that said he knew exactly what he was doing.

Heat crept up your neck.

Lu threw her arms up. “There it is again! The look!”

You deadpanned, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Me either,” Nagumo added, tilting his head innocently. “We’re just professionals.”

Shin muttered under his breath, “Professionals my ass.”

                                  ***

Two weeks after that...

The shop buzzed with its usual rhythm: the scent of grilled fish in the air, Lu singing off-key in the background, and Sakamoto humming as he wiped down the counter. You were seated on a stool, flipping through a mission log, pretending not to notice the way Nagumo leaned across the counter, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room.

“Report that boring, huh?” he asked lazily. “Or is it that you miss me already?”

You didn’t look up. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet. Then you spoke.”

He clicked his tongue. “Mean. You always this grumpy when you’re trying not to smile?”

Your lips twitched, but you kept your eyes on the page. “If you’re trying to flirt, it’s not working.”

“I’m not flirting,” he said, way too quickly.

“Sure,” Aoi muttered from a nearby table.

Nagumo turned her way. “We’re just talking. Normal coworkers. Totally professional.”

Aoi blinked. “You called her sunshine with a pistol last week.”

“That was a metaphor.”

“That was disgusting,” Sakamoto added as he stepped into the room, arms crossed. “And you were staring at her like a kicked puppy when she got injured.”

You glanced at Nagumo. “Were you?”

He snorted. “Please. I was mostly annoyed you didn’t finish the mission.”

You threw a wadded a pen at his face. He caught it without looking, winked.

“I’m just saying,” Aoi said, pointing between the two of you, “the tension is getting out of hand.”

“There is no tension,” you and Nagumo said in unison.

Aoi looked at Sakamoto. “You hear that?”

“Loud and clear,” he deadpanned. “They’re totally not into each other while throwing bedroom eyes across my shop.”

Nagumo raised his brows at you. “Do I throw bedroom eyes?”

You gave him a once-over. “Your face looks like it’s stuck on ‘smug idiot’ mode.”

“Hot,” he said, grinning. “You think I’m hot.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But you’re not denying it either,” he said, still smirking.

You opened your mouth, but Aoi cut in. “Okay, seriously, I need a spray bottle or something.”

You shook your head and turned back to your report, cheeks just a little warmer than before. Nagumo leaned on his elbow, watching you in silence for a moment, and then—

“I’m still not flirting,” he said.

“Neither am I,” you replied without looking up.

And neither of you believed a word of it.

                                   ***

You and Nagumo sat across from each other at the long table, supposedly reviewing blueprints for an upcoming infiltration op. Supposedly.

In reality, every time you looked up, Nagumo was already looking at you—like he’d been waiting for it. He smirked, kicked your foot lightly under the table, and raised an eyebrow in challenge. You narrowed your eyes, nudged him back—harder—and kept talking to Hyo like nothing happened.

“You’ll need to bypass the upper level sensors before the second shift arrives,” Hyo was saying, glancing between the two of you with an amused look tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Assuming you’re both... focused?”

Nagumo didn’t even look away from you. “I’m laser focused.”

You crossed your arms and gave him a look. “Funny, your brain’s usually set to stun.”

Osaragi coughed behind her hand—definitely a laugh.

Shishiba just sighed from where he was leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “If you two are done flirting with your shoes, maybe pay attention?”

“We’re paying attention,” you both said at the same time, then exchanged a blink of surprised silence.

“that was creepy,” Osaragi muttered, sipping her drink.

Naoko, who had been silently fuming in the corner since the meeting started, finally spoke up. “Unbelievable. This is what we’ve come to? Flirty bickering and footsies during ops?”

You turned to her, expression neutral. “We’re working.”

“Sure you are,” she snapped, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at you like she could set you on fire with sheer hatred. “You’re always so efficient with Nagumo, huh?”

Nagumo looked over, brows raised. “You jealous?”

Naoko scoffed. “Please.”

Shishiba cut in before it got any uglier. “I don’t care who is jealous. Just don’t screw up the mission with whatever this weird will-they-won’t-they situation is.”

“It’s not a situation,” you said.

“It’s definitely a situation,” Osaragi replied.

Hyo finally gave in to a quiet chuckle. “They look at each other like they’re one smirk away from making out in the middle of a briefing.”

You opened your mouth to argue—but then Nagumo tilted his head at you, slow and amused, eyes glittering with challenge. That look that said go on, prove them wrong.

You closed your mouth. Damn him.

Naoko looked like she was about to combust.

“Great,” Shishiba muttered. “You broke Naoko.”

                                ***

You adjusted the wire in your ear, voice low as you crouched behind a stack of rusted barrels. “Two guards by the door. One’s asleep. The other’s dumb.”

Nagumo’s voice came through, cocky as ever. “So basically, you’re saying it’s unfair. Should we even bother?”

“I’d hate for you to strain yourself,” you murmured, peering through your scope. “Wouldn’t want to damage that fragile ego.”

“Please. My ego’s made of steel.” A pause. “Though it does bruise a little when you pretend you don’t miss me.”

You rolled your eyes. “We saw each other three hours ago.”

“And yet, here we are again. Me, risking life and limb just to be by your side.”

“Funny. I thought this was an infiltrating mission.”

“Call it whatever you want.”

You smirked and gave the signal to move. You made it to the second floor in near silence, Nagumo close behind. The tension between you wasn’t just professional—it never was, not lately. When your hands brushed as you crouched by the vent, you glanced sideways.

“Your heart always beat this fast?” he teased, breath tickling your ear.

You deadpanned, “That’s yours, genius.”

He grinned, but just as he leaned in to quip again—

Bang.

An explosion rocked the north side of the building. Instantly, smoke began pouring through the vents.

“Poison gas!” you yelled. “We have to move.”

“Plan’s blown,” Nagumo cursed. “Stick close.”

You ducked low, sprinting through the narrow hallway, vision blurring from the smoke. Someone fired from above—Nagumo threw himself in front of you, knocking you down behind cover.

“I had that,” you snapped, coughing.

“I know,” he said, checking you over quickly. “But I still get to protect you.”

Your breath hitched. You stared up at him, taken aback by the fierceness in his eyes.

“I’m not saying you need it,” he added, a little softer now. “I just want to.”

You blinked, heart hammering, adrenaline mixing with something warmer. “…You’re such a dumbass.”

“You like it,” he muttered, pulling you to your feet.

The rest of the mission was a blur—gunfire, gas, sprinting through collapsing scaffolding. You didn’t realize how much gas you'd inhaled until you stumbled, the edges of your vision dimming. Nagumo caught you before you hit the ground.

“Hey,” his voice echoed, panicked now, urgent. “Stay with me. You’re fine. I’ve got you.”

                                 ***

Hospital Room – Late Morning

You blinked against the white light, groaning. “Ugh. Not again.”

Nagumo was sitting beside you, arms crossed, expression caught between relief and exasperation. “You seriously need to stop making a habit of waking up in hospitals.”

“Maybe if someone didn’t tackle me—”

“You passed out from gas exposure, smartass.”

You smiled. “Still. You carried me out?”

“I made someone else do the heavy lifting. I just yelled a lot.”

“Hmm.” You reached for the cup of water on the nightstand. “Still want to protect me?”

He leaned in, eyes half-lidded. “Every damn time.”

You bit your lip, the flutter in your stomach too strong to ignore. “You’re being way too sweet. Are you sure the gas didn’t affect your brain?”

“Just your face,” he said casually. “Nearly gave me a heart attack. I’d rather get shot than see you drop like that again.”

You swallowed, the sincerity cutting through the banter. “I’m okay now.”

“I know.” He leaned forward, brushing your hair away from your face. “Still—you scared me.”

You flushed, breath catching. “You’re scaring me now. Where’s the annoying guy who calls me names and makes fun of me?”

He grinned. “Still here. Just—might also want to kiss you when you’re not dying.”

You raised a brow. “That a confession?”

He shrugged. “More like a warning.”

You laughed, and he took your hand casually like it wasn’t a big deal—but it was. His thumb brushed your knuckles like he couldn’t help it. When the nurse came in to discharge you, neither of you moved for a second.

“Guess you’re stuck with me again,” he said once you were dressed and gathering your things.

You gave him a sideways glance. “I can live with that.”

As you walked out of the hospital room—banged up, hearts racing, and hands almost brushing again—you both pretended not to notice how you kept smiling.

                                    ***

You took one step out the hospital doors and sighed like a prisoner tasting freedom for the first time.

Then your stomach let out a dramatic, echoing growl.

Nagumo, leaning lazily against the railing with his hands in his pockets, raised an eyebrow. “...Was that a bear?”

“Shut up,” you muttered, rubbing your stomach. “I want real food. If I have to eat one more cup of bland gelatin, I’m going to start screaming.”

He tilted his head. “Real food, huh?”

You eyed him warily. “Why do you look like that? That’s your ‘I have a dumb idea’ face.”

“Come on.” He was already walking ahead. “I know just the place.”

                                 ***

The bell jingled as you walked in, warm steam and the savory scent of broth wrapping around you like a hug. Your stomach practically applauded.

“I swear, if one more person brings me hospital Jell-O, I’m going to strangle someone with my IV line,” you muttered, sliding into a seat at the bar.

Nagumo smirked. “Careful. You say that too loud in public, someone’s gonna think you’re serious.”

“I am serious.”

He gave the ramen chef a casual nod. “Two miso—extra pork, soft-boiled egg, no bamboo. And tea.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you just order for me?”

“Yup.”

“You know that’s annoying, right?”

“Yup.”

You huffed, crossing your arms—until the bowls arrived, steaming and perfect. You blinked at yours.

“…How did you—this is exactly what I would’ve picked.”

Nagumo shrugged like it was no big deal. “I’m observant. Deal with it.”

“Ugh. Don’t act like you care.”

“Don’t worry. I care about food. You’re just a side dish.”

You kicked his shin under the bar. He didn’t flinch—just nudged his knee back against yours. And then… left it there. Bold.

You pretended to focus very hard on your soup.

After a few minutes of comfortable slurping, Nagumo leaned closer, voice low. “We’re not talking about work.”

You paused. “Huh. Weird.”

“Feels illegal.”

“Feels like a date,” you blurted out—then immediately stared into your bowl like it held the secrets of the universe. “I mean—not that it is. Obviously. I’m just saying. Statistically. Hypothetically. It has date vibes.”

Nagumo stared at you for a second longer than necessary.

“…Wow.”

“What?”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m not!”

“You are.”

“Shut up, Nagumo.”

You turned back to your ramen with a scowl. He just grinned and sipped his tea.

“…Yeah,” he said. “Definitely feels like a date.”

You threw a napkin at him.

...

You both finished your bowls with the kind of silence only satisfied ramen eaters could achieve. The kind where you briefly forget betrayal, poison gas, and complicated feelings—all thanks to perfectly chewy noodles and rich broth.

You stretched, reaching for your wallet. “Alright, I got this. My treat for not dying this week.”

But as soon as you stood, Nagumo was already at the counter, sliding bills into the register tray with the ease of someone who had clearly planned this.

“what are you doing?” you protested, half-standing from your seat.

He looked over his shoulder, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth. “Be quiet. You almost died. Let me buy you noodles.”

You frowned. “That’s not how debt works.”

“No, but it is how flirting works,” he shot back, turning just in time to catch the flush creeping up your neck.

The ramen chef chuckled under his breath. “You two dating or fighting?”

You choked on your own breath. “Neither!”

“Both,” Nagumo answered at the same time.

You elbowed him in the ribs as he rejoined you. “I was gonna pay.”

“I beat you to it. Plus, now you owe me.”

“Oh god,” you muttered. “That’s your whole thing, isn’t it? Making people owe you so you can cash in later.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, smug. “Exactly. I’ll collect in the form of—let’s say—your time, attention, and unwavering affection.”

“You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but I just bought you ramen, so technically I’m also irresistible.”

You narrowed your eyes but couldn’t stop the tiny smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. But next time, I pay.”

He opened the door for you, leaning close as you passed.

“We’ll see.”

And maybe it was the steam or the lingering miso warmth—but you didn’t hate the idea of a “next time.”

You both stepped out of the ramen shop, the warm glow from inside contrasting the cool evening air. The streets were quieter now, just a few people milling about, the buzz of the city calming down. Your arms were folded, belly full and mood warm.

“That hit the spot,” you said, stretching slightly. “I was two hospital meals away from chewing my own arm off.”

Nagumo chuckled, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “I believe it. You looked like you were about to throw hands with that nurse who brought you the soggy rice porridge.”

“It was soggy!” you defended. “And flavorless. I almost reported it as a war crime.”

He grinned. “Well, I saved you just in time. Again. That’s two. I should start charging.”

“Charge me and I will report you as a war crime.”

He smirked and glanced at you from the side. “You’d miss me.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you. “Anyway… I should head this way. I need to stop by the market before going home.”

“Oh,” he said, still walking alongside you. “Cool. I'll come too."

You paused. “You don’t have to. You probably wanna go home or… do whatever you do when you’re not being annoying.”

He kept walking. “Nah. Groceries are thrilling. What if you collapse trying to lift a bag of rice? I’d never forgive myself.”

You squinted at him. “I lift more than you at the gym and you know it.”

“Exactly why I should come. I like a challenge.”

You nudged him with your shoulder. “Are you flirting with me in the produce aisle already?”

“Only if we get to argue about tomatoes and then buy a bunch of snacks we don’t need.”

You gave him a look—the kind that meant I’m annoyed but charmed and you know it—and he returned it with a wink that screamed I win.

“Fine,” you huffed. “But I’m picking the snacks.”

“As long as you share.”

You shook your head, smiling to yourself as you both turned the corner, the quiet of the street filling with easy laughter and the sound of a bond that, somehow, felt just a little stronger with every step

...

The grocery store was calm. Calm and unsuspecting. Peaceful, even.

Which is why it made zero sense that you and Nagumo were currently standing in front of a shelf of instant curry arguing about spice levels like it was a matter of national security.

“I’m telling you,” he said, holding up a red-labeled box, “this is the superior brand. Spicy, but flavorful.”

“That’s not spicy, that’s aggressive,” you shot back, pointing to your own selection. “I don’t need my tongue to suffer trauma just to enjoy dinner.”

You were bickering like that—playful and far too cozy, hips brushing every few steps as you moved down the aisle, throwing random snacks and drinks into the shared basket—when chaos struck.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH?”

The moment you heard the exaggerated gasp, you froze.

You didn’t need to turn around to know the exact pitch, volume, and utter lack of shame could only belong to one person.

“LU,” you said without looking.

“LU and Shin,” Nagumo sighed, already rubbing his temples as if warding off a headache.

Sure enough, the two of them came marching over with smug grins and the kind of judgmental sparkle in their eyes that only meant one thing: you were never living this down.

“Well, well, well,” Shin drawled, eyeing the shared basket. “What do we have here? Curry for two? Pocky sticks? A romantic stroll in the noodle aisle?”

“We’re literally buying groceries,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms.

“Together,” Lu emphasized, leaning way too close. “At night. Flirting in the spice aisle.”

Nagumo raised a brow. “What kind of flirting do you think involves arguing about MSG content?”

“The foreplay kind,” Shin said with a straight face. Lu snorted.

“We’re not together,” you said, holding up a can of miso soup like it could defend your honor.

Nagumo nodded coolly. “Yeah. We’re just… food-compatible.”

Lu made an exaggerated mmmmhmmm sound while Shin leaned over and inspected your cart like a detective. “This says otherwise. Who buys his and hers instant ramen unless they’re in denial?”

You turned to Nagumo, narrowing your eyes. “See what you did?”

He smirked. “I recall you dragging me here.”

“YOU insisted on coming!”

“You let me!”

“Because you were being weirdly charming!”

“Oh my god,” Lu whispered, clutching her chest. “They’re married.”

“We should go,” you muttered, grabbing Nagumo by the arm and steering him toward the checkout lane.

Lu called after you: “SEND US THE WEDDING INVITE!”

Shin added, “I want curry on the menu!”

Nagumo leaned in close as you paid, whispering, “You know we’re never gonna hear the end of this.”

You groaned. “This is why I usually shop alone.”

“…Wanna do it again next week?”

You glanced at him. “Buy snacks or get heckled by Lu?”

He grinned. “Both.”

                                       ***

I'm sorry I didn’t update sooner, but… I wasn’t satisfied (again) with what I wrote. You know I love the tension, so I had like two more chapters with that vibe—but I realized I was dragging it out too much, and it messed with the story’s flow. So… I deleted everything and rewrote it again. 🧍🏻‍♀️

This is what I came up with, and honestly, I like it better this way. The next chapter will most likely be the last one, but I’m not 100% sure—it might take one or two more to wrap everything up. I’m also thinking about changing the title. 🙂⬇️

[a-cross-the-universe]

Seriously, what was Shishiba thinking? 🤦🏻‍♀️ Taking on X and the order all by himself? 😩 I can’t bear the thought of losing any of the them. I already lost Gaku, I don’t want to lose anyone else!

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f!reader | Part IX: A Close Call ☎️💥🚘

TW: Mentions of (Your Name). I really didn’t wanna bring it up, but…

***

The safehouse was cramped, dimly lit, and smelled faintly of burnt coffee and old ramen cups. You’d been stuck inside with Nagumo for six hours now, observing the target’s building through the cracked blinds. Nothing had happened—no movement, no signals, just you, Nagumo, and the increasingly heavy silence between you.

You sat on opposite sides of the tiny table. He lounged with his feet kicked up, tapping his pen against a notebook. You stared through the binoculars, pretending to focus but all too aware of how close he was. It was the first time you were alone with him since the kiss.

"You’re quiet," he finally said.

"You’re loud," you shot back without looking at him.

"Still got it," he smirked, leaning forward. "Thought maybe you lost your bite after kissing me."

You turned slowly. "You kissed me."

Nagumo tilted his head, mock thinking. "Did I? Huh. Guess it was mutual, though. I didn’t hear any complaints."

You rolled your eyes and turned back to the binoculars. "Maybe I was in shock."

"That would explain why you didn’t slap me."

It was playful, the same banter from before—but underneath it all, there was something raw. Unspoken. You wanted to bring it up, to just ask what are we doing, but something stopped you.

Hours passed. Night fell. You pretended to sleep on the couch, but your eyes cracked open when you heard Nagumo mutter quietly.

"...didn’t mean to screw things up."

You stayed still, breath slow, heartbeat loud.

                                    ***

The JAA debriefing room was colder than usual—or maybe that was just your mood. You stood with your arms crossed as the mission results were reviewed. Naoko leaned against the opposite wall, fake-smiling.

"Infiltration was successful," one of the heads said. "Thanks to Agent (Your Name)’s intel and Nagumo’s execution. Impressive work."

"Hmm," Naoko hummed. "Would’ve thought she’d be stuck in recon again. But I guess when you’ve got...personal help, anything’s possible."

You turned. "Excuse me?"

Nagumo’s voice cut in—lazy and smooth, but with an unmistakable edge.

"Naoko, you ever get tired of talking out of your ass?"

The room stilled.

Naoko’s expression froze—half-offended, half-stunned.

Nagumo grinned, tilting his head. "So unless you’re planning to contribute something besides jealousy and delusions, maybe shut up before you embarrass yourself again."

No one said a word. Even the director coughed and moved the meeting along.

After the debriefing, you caught up with him in the hallway. He was halfway into a protein bar when you stepped in front of him.

"What was that back there?"

He shrugged. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. I say a lot of things.”

You blinked at him, torn between amusement and exasperation. “Look. I appreciate you stepping up. Really. But you don’t have to do that. I can handle Naoko.”

He smirked but nodded. ““I know. But maybe I let her get away with too much before. That’s on me. Besides, watching you handle her isn’t nearly as fun as watching her squirm when I step in.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Since when do you take accountability?”

He smirked. “Don’t get used to it.”

You shook your head, half-laughing. “You’re impossible.”

“Not true. I’m highly possible. Just slightly chaotic.”

                                     ***

The car crash hadn’t been part of the plan.

One second, you were tailing the suspect—tight turns, sirens in the distance, your team a few blocks behind—and the next, the brakes locked. A truck swerved into your path, and all you saw was blinding headlights and the violent twist of metal before everything went black.

                                      ***

Nagumo had just walked out of the JAA meeting room when Shishiba caught up with him.

“You need to head to Tokyo General,” Shishiba said bluntly.

Nagumo slowed his steps. “What?”

“(Your Name) ’s in the hospital. That chase last night—her car got totaled.”

He didn’t remember dropping his coffee, but the splatter on the floor said otherwise.

“She alive?”

“Yeah. Barely. Unconscious when they pulled her out.”

Shishiba said something else after that, but Nagumo was already moving.

                                      ***

When you woke up, your whole body throbbed. Ribs screamed, your shoulder was bandaged, and your legs felt like they weighed a hundred pounds each.

Nagumo was leaning against the window, arms crossed, scythe propped beside him.

“You’re awake,” he said, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. Not smug. Just… relieved.

You blinked slowly. “What happened?”

He walked over and handed you a cup of water, watching you drink like he didn’t quite believe you were real. “Car flipped three times. You were half-buried under the wreck when they found you. Broken ribs, dislocated shoulder, nasty concussion.”

You took another sip, wincing at the movement. “Didn’t know you cared.”

He shrugged, lips twitching. “You’d be surprised.”

There was a pause. You watched him closely. Then you said, “About the kiss. And what you said the other day.”

You locked eyes, a smirk tugging at your lips. It felt weirdly normal. He moved closer, pulling a chair beside the bed, tossing you a candy bar.

His posture tensed, just a bit. “You heard that?”

“Yeah.”

You studied him. “You said you didn’t mean to screw things up.”

“Wasn’t about the mission,” he said after a second. “I screwed things up with you. That’s what I meant.”

You nodded. “I figured.”

A pause. Then, without thinking, you added, “So… about the kiss”

He held up a hand. "If you’re gonna say it was a mistake, at least wait until I finish this chocolate."

You laughed, genuinely. "I wasn’t going to. I just... wanted to know what that was."

Nagumo looked uncharacteristically unsure. "I don’t know."

He leaned in, slow and smooth.You didn’t move. His thumb brushed your jaw, and for a second, the teasing melted into something softer. Real.

“Wanna try again?” he said, voice low. “For clarity.”

He was close enough that your breath hitched, and as his lips brushed yours—

The door slammed open.

“Oh wow, you’re actually awake!” Lu’s voice rang out.

You jerked back, wide-eyed, as Shin followed behind him holding a fruit basket.

Nagumo groaned, muttering something under his breath as he pulled away. You quickly pulled your blanket up, cheeks burning.

“Seriously, Nagumo?” Lu said, hands on his hips. “Making out in a hospital room?”

“I was checking her pulse,” Nagumo said dryly.

“With your mouth?” Shin asked.

You grabbed the nearest pillow and chucked it at them both.

Behind your back, Lu elbowed Shin and whispered with a smirk, “Pay up. I said under a week.”

Shin grumbled, pulling a bill from his pocket. “Only because I thought they’d be emotionally constipated for another month.”

Neither of them noticed you and Nagumo glance at each other.

But you didn’t notice their quiet high-five either.

                                     ***

Sorry for the delay! I got sick—thought it was just allergies at first, but nope, turned out to be a cold. Can you believe it? Ugh. I’m feeling a lot better now though, and I finally managed to edit the next chapter. Nothing like a near-death experience to bring the lead couple closer, right?

There’s gonna be more fluff and banter in the next chapters, and I should be able to update again sometime this week.

If you’re new, check out my blog for the earlier chapters—thanks! And big thanks to everyone for the likes, reblogs, and sweet messages!

SPOILER ALERT 🚨

P.S. I miss Nagumo so much. We finally got to see him again, and it was just a glimpse of that handsome face! Also, what the hell is Shishiba thinking? That’s literally a suicide mission. If he dies, I swear, I won’t survive it. They already took Gaku from me—Gaku, my precious boy. I’m still holding out hope he’s alive.

[a-cross-the-universe]

Hey, everyone! Sorry for not updating Sharp Tongue yesterday! 🙃 Work’s been crazy since it’s the week before ‘spring break’ (I think that’s what you call it in the US?). Hopefully, I’ll post a new chapter today or tomorrow, and I’ll also work on my George Weasley story.

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f!reader | Part VIII: A Series Of Fortunate Events 🔮

Hana's birthday party was in full swing, the warm chatter of guests filling Sakamoto's shop as everyone enjoyed the festivities. You had decided it was time to move on from everything that happened with Nagumo. Being mad at him wouldn’t change the past or fix anything, so when he greeted you with a teasing remark about how long it took you to arrive, you responded with an eye roll and a sarcastic jab of your own.

when you finally made it to the snack table, reaching for the last takoyaki at the exact same time as someone else.

Your fingers brushed.

You looked up. Of course—it was Nagumo.

He raised a brow. “You sure you wanna start this war?”

You gave him a flat look. “You’re the one trying to steal the last one. Aren’t you supposed to be on a mission soon? Shouldn’t you be eating sad rations or something?”

Nagumo smirked. “And miss the thrill of battling you over street food? Never.”

You plucked the takoyaki without breaking eye contact. “Too slow”

“Oh, ouch,” he said, hand on his chest. “Using my tactics against me? Cold.”

You shrugged. “I learned from the best.”

“I’ve taught you nothing but kindness and class.”

You snorted so hard you nearly choked. “You? Classy?”

“Hey,” he pointed at you. “I’ve worn a tuxedo once this month. That’s at least medium-level sophistication.”

“Pretty sure drooling over food in a suit doesn’t count.”

“Oh?” He leaned a little closer. “You were staring pretty hard that night. Not at the food, either.”

“Yeah, I was trying to figure out how you got your tie so crooked.”

Nagumo opened his mouth, then closed it, then said, “It was an artistic choice.”

The two of you fell back into the banter that had once been normal. It was different now—lighter, lacking the bitterness that had tinged your exchanges before. Nagumo smirked as he slung an arm over your shoulder, only for you to shove him off playfully. The familiarity of it all made something settle in his chest.

From his spot on the couch, Shin tilted his head toward Lu and stage-whispered, “Wow, look at Nagumo. All smiles. He’s glowing.”

Lu raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. The two exchanged a look—mischievous, conspiratorial—and without missing a beat, stood up in perfect sync and made their way over.

"Man, Nagumo, you look happier than usual. Almost like someone finally lifted that storm cloud you’ve been walking around with," Shin said, nudging him with his elbow.

"What are you talking about?" Nagumo asked, taking a sip of his drink, acting as if he didn’t know what they were getting at.

"Oh, you know," Lu added, grinning. "You were kinda mopey when she wasn’t talking to you. It was honestly painful to watch."

Nagumo scoffed. "Mopey? Please. I was just enjoying the peace and quiet."

Lu laughed. "Yeah, sure. And that’s why you kept lingering around Sakamoto’s shop whenever she was here? Or why you snapped at Naoko out of nowhere the other day?"

Nagumo waved a dismissive hand. "Coincidences."

"Right, right," Shin said, amused. "Just like how you’re suddenly in a much better mood now that she’s talking to you again?"

Nagumo narrowed his eyes at them. "You two have way too much time on your hands."

Lu smirked. "And you have no self-awareness."

You, oblivious to the conversation, had wandered off to talk with Aoi and Sakamoto. But Nagumo could still hear Lu and Shin muttering behind him.

"He totally missed what we were saying, huh?"

"Yeah, he’s dense as hell."

"Wanna bet how long it takes him to get it"

                                    ***

The mission briefing had been short and tense. You, Nagumo, and Naoko were tasked with infiltrating a high-value facility suspected to be a front for an underground weapons network. It was dangerous, complex, and not something the JAA assigned lightly.

Still, there wasn’t the same chill in the air when you and Nagumo stood near the armory, checking your gear. After Hana’s party, things had started to feel almost normal again. You were even bickering here and there—his favorite sport. And while you didn’t entirely trust him yet, you’d stopped flinching every time he opened his mouth.

“Try not to get yourself killed, okay?” Nagumo said casually, swinging his custom scythe over one shoulder with the same ease someone might toss a bag of chips.

“I’ll try not to trip on my own competence,” you shot back. “But hey, if I do, I’m sure you’ll tell everyone I wasn’t using my brain again.”

He glanced at you, smirking. “That was one time.”

“Three,” you corrected.

Naoko came up behind you both, clearly annoyed by your dynamic. “You two done flirting?”

“We’re just warming up,” Nagumo said, not even blinking.

You rolled your eyes, but the small laugh that escaped surprised even you.

---

The infiltration had gone smoothly—until it didn’t.

A silent alarm, a miscalculated detour, and suddenly the facility was in chaos. Somewhere along the path, a controlled detonation went off behind you, separating you and Nagumo from Naoko.

Your ears rang from the blast as you crouched behind a crumbling wall. “Well. That’s not good.”

Nagumo was beside you in a second, his scythe already gripped tightly in one hand, blade gleaming under the emergency lights. “You hit?”

“No,” you said, brushing debris off your jacket. “Just deaf and annoyed.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he reached out, tugging at your sleeve to check your arm. You pulled back.

“I said I’m fine.”

“I heard,” he said, looking you over anyway. “But I’m your superior, remember? I’m responsible for keeping you safe.”

You glared. “Is that what this is? Responsibility?”

“What else would it be?”

You scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe paranoia. Or the need to micromanage everyone so you don’t screw things up again.”

His gaze darkened. “Say what you’re actually thinking.”

You met his eyes. “I don’t trust you, Nagumo. Not completely. Not after what happened with Naoko. Because next time you decide to mess with me, it might not just ruin my day—it might get me killed.”

Silence fell, heavy and sudden.

Then Nagumo stepped forward, his tone low and sharp. “I would never put your life at risk. Not even for a second. You think I’m careless? I’m not. Especially not with you.”

You didn’t move. His words settled in your chest, confusing and grounding all at once.

He scanned your face, jaw clenched. His eyes dropped to your lips, lingering there, a flicker of hesitation flicking across his features before something hardened behind his gaze. “You got blood on your cheek,” he muttered.

You didn’t even flinch when his thumb brushed across your cheekbone, wiping away a smear of red. His touch lingered.

Then—without warning—his hand moved to your jaw, and he pulled you into a kiss.

It wasn’t tentative.

It was fire meeting fire—frustration and adrenaline colliding into something raw and undeniable. His lips crushed against yours, rough and heated, stealing the breath right from your lungs. The hand holding your face tightened slightly, pulling you closer like he’d finally stopped pretending he didn’t want to.

Your mind froze, but your body didn’t. You grabbed onto the front of his jacket, grounding yourself in the pressure, kissing him back with just as much force. You didn’t care that the walls were shaking. That your legs barely held steady. That you’d been angry just seconds ago.

All that mattered was the feel of his mouth on yours, how he tasted faintly of smoke and adrenaline, how he kissed you like he was afraid he’d never get another chance.

Then—footsteps.

Naoko’s voice echoed through the corridor. "Where the hell are you two?"

Nagumo pulled away, his breath warm against your lips. His hand lingered for half a second before he took a step back, his expression unreadable once more .“Naoko’s coming.”

You blinked, disoriented, lips still parted, heart slamming against your ribs.

He glanced away, reaching for his scythe with a tight jaw

Seconds later, Naoko appeared around the corner. Her eyes swept the both of you, then narrowed faintly. Something flickered in her expression—suspicion, maybe. But she didn’t say a word.

Neither did you.

Not yet.

                                      ***

You hadn’t talked about it.

Not on the way back from the mission, not during the debriefing, and definitely not at Sakamoto’s store later that night when everyone gathered to blow off steam. The kiss—the kiss—was like an elephant with a silencer, quietly looming, pretending it hadn’t shattered the weird balance you and Nagumo had carefully built back up.

And to make things worse? He was acting perfectly normal.

Too normal.

“Pass me the soy sauce,” Nagumo said casually, nudging you with his elbow at the low table.

You slid it over without looking at him. “You’ve got hands.”

He smiled around a mouthful of fried rice. “Yeah, but yours are prettier.”

You choked on your drink.

Across the table, Aoi stared at the two of you suspiciously.

Lu narrowed his eyes. “Something’s off.”

Shin pointed a chopstick at Nagumo. “You’re smiling.”

“I smile,” Nagumo said.

“Yeah, but this one’s... smugger,” Shin added. “Smells like secrets.”

“Would you all mind your own food?” you snapped, a little too fast.

Lu’s eyes widened. “Oh-ho. She’s snappy.”

Aoi squinted. “Wait a second. You two were on that last mission with Naoko, right? That weird explosion that knocked out comms?”

Shin leaned in, grinning. “Let me guess. Something happened.”

“Nothing happened,” you both said at the same time.

Dead silence.

You stood up abruptly. “I’m getting more dumplings.”

Nagumo followed. “I’ll help.”

You rounded on him once you were out of earshot. “What are you doing?”

Nagumo leaned against the fridge like he had all the time in the world. “Waiting for you to ask me on a date.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I mean, you kissed me,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “It’s kind of rude to leave a guy hanging after that.”

Your jaw dropped. “I kissed YOU?!”

“You definitely did,” he said smoothly. “I recall mutual participation. Highly engaged mutual participation.”

You grabbed a tray of dumplings and shoved it at his chest. “You're delusional.”

He held the tray with one hand, still grinning. “You sure? Because your lips said otherwise.”

You stared at him, heat crawling up your neck. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Not when it makes you this flustered,” he said with a wink.

You spun on your heel. “I’m going back before I throw a soy sauce bottle at you.”

“Romantic,” he called after you. “I’ll take it as a maybe.”

                                    ***

We've finally reached this point, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure how to mend the rift between Nagumo and the reader. But a good cliché seemed like a solid idea, so I went with it! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧ I wrote half of this while working, so please let me know if you spot any mistakes. <(_ _)> I’ll update the links to the previous chapters tomorrow for those of you who are new to my story—just check out my blog! („• ᴗ •„) Also, I’m aiming to update the next chapter by Wednesday.

[a-cross-the-universe]

Hi, everyone! (o´▽`o)ﾉ

I'm super excited for you to read the next chapter of Sharp Tongue! If I'm not too tired after work, I plan to post it tonight. I want to make a few adjustments first though. This is the first time I’ve shared something I’ve written, and I'm anxious because I want to meet your expectations. We’ll see how it goes! 🤞(o˘◡˘o)

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x reader | Part VII Unwanted Thoughts

                                ***

Sakamoto’s shop was quiet when you stepped inside. The scent of freshly brewed tea lingered in the air, and the faint sound of Sakamoto flipping through a magazine came from behind the counter.

You didn’t come for him, though.

Aoi sat at one of the tables, lazily stirring her tea. Her golden eyes flicked up the second she saw you, her usual smirk tugging at her lips. “Took you long enough.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid into the seat across from her. “I needed some time.”

Aoi hummed. “From what?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “A lot. I need to vent.”

“Go ahead.”

And so, you told her everything.

You told her about the mission’s success, the moment Mr. Oki casually praised your teamwork with Nagumo—only to immediately announce Naoko as his new partner. You told her about Naoko’s gloating, about how much you wanted to strangle her, about the way Nagumo finally apologized—and how it didn’t change a damn thing.

By the time you finished, Aoi was leaning back in her chair, arms crossed, expression unreadable.

Then, with a knowing look, she said, “You like him.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You like him,” she repeated, taking a sip of her tea like she hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

You scoffed. “I literally just told you how he ruined everything for me.”

“And yet, here you are, venting about him instead of celebrating how well your mission went,” Aoi pointed out. “It’s not just about losing a spot in The Order, is it?”

You opened your mouth to argue but hesitated.

Aoi tilted her head. “Maybe you were actually looking forward to working with him. Being his partner.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?”

You wanted to say yes. You should say yes.

But the words wouldn’t come out.

Aoi smirked at your silence. “Just think about it.”

You scowled, muttering a quick goodbye before heading home.

But the second you were alone in your apartment, her words started creeping back in.

You like him.

You were looking forward to being his partner.

No. That couldn’t be right.

…Could it?

You sighed, flopping onto your bed.

There was no denying it—when you and Nagumo worked together, it had felt right. You never had to explain your thoughts to him; he just got it. Even when you argued, he never questioned your skills. And in serious situations… he was always there.

Reliable.

Experienced.

A true senpai.

Even if he was only a year older, his presence on the battlefield was something you had come to depend on.

And now, that was gone.

You buried your face into your pillow.

You did not like Nagumo.

…Right?

                                    ***

JAA headquarters was as busy as ever, agents moving in and out, briefing rooms full, the faint hum of conversations filling the halls. You had just received your assignment—support Osaragi and Shishiba on a tailing mission. Simple enough.

You were walking slightly behind them when you heard a familiar voice.

"Shishiba, Osaragi! What a coincidence."

Nagumo.

You didn't look up immediately. Instead, you kept walking, listening as he and Naoko approached, striking up casual conversation. You could feel Nagumo’s gaze on you before he even spoke.

“Well, if it isn’t our little intel specialist,” he drawled, his usual playful tone in full effect.

You finally glanced at him, offering a polite nod. "Nagumo."

That was it. No sarcasm, no irritation—just distant acknowledgment.

Nagumo frowned slightly, but before he could say anything, Naoko let out a scoff.

“Surprised you got assigned a mission at all," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Didn’t think the JJA had a use for second-place losers."

You didn’t flinch. If anything, you looked bored. "Huh. Must be frustrating for you, then, considering you still need a partner to get the job done."

Naoko bristled, opening her mouth to retort but Shishiba cut in first.

“Tch.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving Naoko a lazy but unimpressed look. “Nagumo, teach your partner some manners. It's annoying.”

Nagumo smirked but said nothing.

Naoko, on the other hand, looked ready to explode.

Osaragi took a bite of her lollipop and turned to you. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," you replied, barely sparing Nagumo and Naoko another glance. "Let’s move."

As you walked away, Nagumo's eyes stayed on you.

You weren’t ignoring him anymore.

But you were treating him like just another agent.

Like a stranger.

And for some reason, that irritated him more than the silent treatment ever did.

***

Later that evening, alone in your room, your thoughts circled back to Aoi’s words. You’d spent the day focused on the mission, but now, with the quiet of the night settling in, you began to question what had been said. You’d thought it over carefully—really, really carefully.

You saw him for who he was—a complicated man, yes, and often infuriating. He teased you relentlessly, questioned your skills just to needle you, but when it mattered, he recognized your strengths. You admired him as your senpai: skillful, resourceful, intelligent—everything an assassin should be.

Yet, despite that admiration, you couldn’t help but feel a cold disappointment. Over time, you had come to see Nagumo as loyal to his friends and colleagues, a quality you had once valued above all else. But now, you couldn’t shake the unsettling thought that perhaps he wasn’t someone you could truly trust. The more you analyzed your interactions, the clearer it became: his charm and competence were paired with a capricious nature that left you questioning his reliability.

A quiet acceptance settled over you. You were no longer angry with him, but you couldn’t ignore the truth. You respected him as an assassin and as your superior in the field, but trust… that was something else entirely.

                                   ***

The bell above Sakamoto’s store jingled as Nagumo and Naoko stepped inside. Shin and Lu were lounging near the counter, while Aoi leaned against the shelves, idly flipping through a magazine.

Nagumo walked ahead, his hands in his pockets, his usual easygoing smirk in place. Naoko trailed beside him, scanning the shelves for snacks before their upcoming mission. Then, her gaze landed on you, standing by the counter, chatting with Aoi. Her lips curled into a smug smirk.

"Oh, you’re here? I guess running errands is all you can do now, huh?" Naoko said, her voice thick with condescension. "If you’d actually won, you’d be out on missions like us instead of playing shop assistant."

You felt Aoi shift slightly beside you, a silent warning not to take the bait. But before you could say anything, Nagumo, who had been grabbing a drink from the fridge, spoke up.

"That’s enough," he said, his tone deceptively light, but there was an edge to it.

Naoko blinked at him, feigning innocence. "I’m just stating facts. You know, it’s kinda sad—"

"I said, that’s enough." His voice was sharper this time, and when he turned to face her, his usually playful expression had darkened. "You’re embarrassing yourself. And me."

A heavy silence settled over the shop. Even Shin and Lu, who normally ignored petty squabbles, looked up in surprise. Naoko scoffed, crossing her arms, but she wasn’t done yet.

"I’m just saying—"

Nagumo’s patience finally snapped. His brown eyes narrowed as he took a step closer to her, voice dangerously low. "If you don’t shut up, I will."

The entire store seemed to freeze. Lu raised an eyebrow. Shin looked between the two of them, munching on a rice cracker like this was some kind of live drama. Aoi and Sakamoto, on the other hand, exchanged knowing looks, as if this moment had been inevitable.

You were stunned too. Not because you hadn’t expected Nagumo to get irritated, but because he had never actually defended you before—not like this.

You exhaled sharply, regaining your composure. "I can handle Naoko myself."

Nagumo turned to you, his expression unreadable. "I know. But it’s also my fault for letting her get away with it before."

For once, Naoko had nothing to say. She scoffed, grabbing a snack from the shelf and heading toward the register without another word. But her silence didn’t go unnoticed—it was clear to everyone in the store that the dynamic had shifted.

Sakamoto leaned on the counter, watching as Naoko sulked her way to the checkout. "Well, that was entertaining."

Aoi smirked, flipping a page in her magazine. "Took you long enough, Nagumo."

Nagumo rolled his eyes, but the way he glanced at you—just for a second—didn’t go unnoticed either.

                                ***

Hello! ＼(￣▽￣)／

First, I want to thank you for all your kind words and support. 💖 While I wish I could update the story tomorrow, I need a couple more days to revise some chapters. Originally, I had 2-3 chapters written, but I wasn't satisfied with them—I felt they were redundant and didn't add anything significant to the story. So, I deleted them and am working on something new. Though I'm pleased with the direction of the new chapter, it still needs refining before I'm 100% happy with it.

Also, I forgot to add the links to the previous chapters, but I'll update the blog with them tomorrow. If you’re new to the story or want to revisit previous chapters, check my blog.

[a-cross-the-universe]

Will sharp tongue be a short series with like 10 or 15 chapters or a long one with 20 or 30 chapters?

Hi!

Yes, it will be short, between 10-15 chapters. (:

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f! reader | Part VI: The Wrong Partner.

Part I.  Part II.  Part III.  Part IV.  Part V

***

The mission was a success.

With the intel you gathered at the gala, infiltrating the Yakuza-run corporation had been a smooth operation. You and Nagumo worked seamlessly—like always—taking down key targets, retrieving classified files, and slipping out without a trace. The efficiency almost made you forget how much you resented him.

Almost.

Now, back at JAA headquarters, you stood in Mr. Oki’s office, arms crossed as you reported your findings. Nagumo leaned against the desk, casual as ever, twirling a pen between his fingers while Oki skimmed through the files.

“You two work well together,” Oki mused, setting the documents aside. “Impressive as always.”

You said nothing, though the words stung. Yeah, we used to.

Nagumo smirked, nudging your shoulder slightly. “Hear that? We make a great team.”

You shot him a warning glare.

Before you could reply, the door opened.

Your stomach dropped as Naoko walked in, her JAA-issued uniform and heels clicking against the tile. She looked as smug as ever, her eyes sweeping over you before landing on Nagumo with an unmistakable glint of satisfaction.

Oki barely looked up. “Ah, perfect timing. Naoko, meet your new partner.”

Silence.

It took a second for the words to settle, but when they did, you felt your chest tighten.

Nagumo’s new partner.

Oki glanced between the three of you, oblivious to the tension. “With her promotion to The Order, Naoko will be working alongside Nagumo from now on.” He nodded at you. “Thanks for your hard work. You’re dismissed.”

And just like that, he left, closing the door behind him.

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your breathing even. This was worse than you expected.

This is what he wanted, right?

A slow clap echoed through the room.

“Well, well,” Naoko hummed, tilting her head at you. “Guess I really won, huh?”

You grit your teeth. “Shut up.”

“Aww, no need to be bitter.” She smiled, stepping closer. “It’s not personal. You know how the JAA works.”

Nagumo sighed. “Naoko, that’s enough.”

“Oh, come on,” she purred, resting a hand on his arm.

You couldn’t take this.

Without another word, you turned and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

You weren’t going to let them see you break.

                                    ***

Dammit.

This wasn’t how he wanted things to go.

Nagumo exhaled sharply, shrugging Naoko’s hand off his arm. “You really can’t help yourself, huh?”

Naoko pouted. “What? She should get used to it. She’s not in The Order, I am.”

Nagumo’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t wrong, but hearing it out loud irritated him.

“I’ll see you later,” he muttered, walking out without waiting for a reply.

                                 ***

He spotted you just as you reached the building’s exit, waving down a cab.

“Hey.”

You ignored him.

“Hey,” he tried again, jogging up beside you before you could open the door. “Just—wait a second.”

You turned, expression unreadable. “What?”

Nagumo hesitated. Apologies weren’t exactly his strong suit, but looking at you now, he knew he couldn’t keep brushing this off.

“…I screwed up,” he admitted. “I didn’t think Naoko would actually figure out the location. It wasn’t my intention to help her.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “Congratulations, then. You did it without intending to.”

Nagumo frowned. “Look, I—”

“It doesn’t matter,” you cut him off, voice quiet but heavy. “The damage is done.”

His stomach twisted at the defeated look in your eyes.

“If you really wanted to mess up my life, Nagumo,” you exhaled shakily, “you’ve accomplished the mission.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You shook your head, reaching for the cab door. “Whatever.”

And then you were gone.

Nagumo watched as the car disappeared down the street, his fingers curling into a fist.

For the first time in a long time, he felt like he’d actually lost.

                                    ***

It had been a week.

A week of missions with Naoko. A week of… adjusting.

She wasn’t bad. He had to give her that. She was quick, had decent instincts, and wasn’t completely incompetent in combat. She didn’t drag him down, and she followed orders without much resistance.

Still.

She wasn’t you.

Nagumo sat in a sleek black car outside a Yakuza hideout, waiting for Naoko to finish gathering intel. He tapped his fingers on the wheel, his mind drifting where it shouldn’t.

This would be easier with her.

He hadn’t meant to think it, but the thought slipped in before he could stop it.

It was annoying—you were annoying—but working with you had always been easy. It was like you already knew what he was thinking, how he’d react, what the next move should be. He never had to spell things out for you, never had to second-guess if you’d keep up.

With Naoko, he had to give orders. He had to explain. She wasn’t slow, but she wasn’t you.

And it wasn’t just about the work.

It was fun with you.

Even when you bickered, even when you snapped at him or rolled your eyes, it had been entertaining.

Nagumo exhaled sharply, shifting in his seat.

Why the hell was he even thinking about this? He was supposed to dislike you, wasn’t he? That’s what he always told himself—that you were insufferable, always challenging him, always acting like you were better than you were.

But… was that true?

Sure, you could be annoying. But then again… so could he.

That realization sat uncomfortably in his chest.

The car door opened, snapping him out of his thoughts. Naoko slid into the passenger seat, brushing her hair back with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Got what we needed,” she said. “Took a little convincing, but—”

Nagumo tuned her out, staring at the road ahead.

Something didn’t feel right.

For the first time since Naoko became his partner, he felt it clearly.

She wasn’t the right one.

                                     ***

I love Nagumo, but he's an absolute MENACE, which honestly makes him even more irresistible. (♡˙︶˙♡)

I'm halfway through writing the prologue for the office romance AU, but I haven't decided on a title yet. I've come up with two options, but I can't choose between them. The prologue will give some background on our female lead. I might post it next week if I can finish the current series I'm working on first. (*・ω・)ﾉ

[a-cross-the-universe]

hi! I just noticed from your George Weasley fic that you needed some advice on how to make a masterlist?

It's simple really--

1. Select the words you want to add a link to

2. Look for the button that shows two pins, like these: 🧷🧷 that are interconnected

3. Enter the link you want to add to the words

4. Publish your masterlist! When you click on the words with the underline on them, it will lead you to where the link would.

(this tutorial is for mobile. I'm not sure how it works on other platforms so you're going to have to check YouTube)

hope this helps </3

Omg, thank you so much!!! 🫶🏻 I've been asking a friend to do it for me but with your explanation, now I can do it myself.

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f! reader | Part V: An Unwelcome Partnership

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part IV.

***

The JAA headquarters was as sterile and uninviting as ever, all polished floors and cold, artificial lighting. You stood at a long conference table, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the mission files before you. Nagumo was seated beside you, drumming his fingers lazily against the wood, his usual smirk present—but you weren’t giving him the satisfaction of looking.

The mission was straightforward on paper but a nightmare in execution. A powerful Yakuza-run corporation had been making moves against the JAA, leveraging political connections and hired assassins to chip away at the organization’s influence. The JAA wanted their leader, Sato Haruna eliminated, along with any incriminating evidence about their agents he had obtained. The problem? His headquarters was a fortress—layers of security, constant surveillance, and a revolving door of high-profile criminals.

“Since the target’s intel is airtight, our best shot is infiltration,” one of the mission handlers explained. “Which is why we’re assigning you two.”

You exhaled through your nose. It wasn’t a surprise—despite everything, the JAA knew that when it came to gathering intel, no one could outmatch you. And for pure assassination? Nagumo had the highest success rate. You were the perfect team.

Normally. Right now? A disaster waiting to happen.

Nagumo flipped through the file like he was barely paying attention. “So, what’s our cover?” he asked.

“A newly engaged couple,” the handler responded.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Relax,” Nagumo drawled, smirking. “It’s not like we actually have to get married. Unless…” His brown eyes flicked toward you playfully.

You ignored him. “That’s ridiculous. Why can’t we go as business partners?”

“Their security is tight, and they vet all business interactions thoroughly,” the handler explained. “But Sato is hosting an exclusive gala this weekend, and the only way in is by invitation—primarily given to influential couples. Your alias has already been arranged.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. There was no way out of this. The mission came first. Even if it meant enduring Nagumo.

The handler dismissed you both, leaving the two of you alone in the conference room.

Nagumo stretched lazily. “Well, I don’t mind playing the loving husband. I’ll even pay for lunch to celebrate.”

You turned to him, arms still crossed. “No thanks.”

He sighed dramatically. “Still holding a grudge? I already said—”

“You didn’t say anything,” you interrupted coldly. “You just made excuses.”

His smirk wavered for a fraction of a second before returning, though his tone sharpened. “You’re going to let this ruin our mission?”

You scoffed. “Oh, I’m the problem? That’s funny, coming from you.”

Nagumo let out an exasperated breath and stood, towering slightly over you. “Alright, enough. Get over it.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snapped, his usual playfulness gone. “We have a mission, and you’re acting like a kid. You lost the competition, move on.”

Anger flared in your chest, but you kept your voice steady. “You’re mad because I’m not being nice to you.” You took a step closer. “But you’re the one who caused this. You helped her, you gave her what she needed to win, and now you’re mad that I don’t feel like playing along with your usual nonsense?”

Nagumo clenched his jaw. You could tell he wanted to fire back, but for once, he had no immediate response.

You turned toward the door. “See you at the gala, husband.”

Then, without another word, you walked out, leaving him standing there, fists clenched at his sides.

***

The doorbell rang.

You took a deep breath, smoothing out the fabric of your dress. This was just another mission, nothing more. No reason for your heart to race as you opened the door—

Nagumo stood there, dressed in a sharp black suit, the top buttons of his shirt undone just enough to give him that effortless charm. His usual teasing smirk was in place, but his golden eyes flickered with something unreadable as he looked at you.

His gaze trailed over you slowly, taking in the way the dress fit, the way your hair framed your face. For once, he didn’t make a snide remark. Instead, he murmured, “You look beautiful.”

You blinked. That was… different. No sarcasm, no playful undertones—just a genuine compliment.

Caught off guard, you felt heat rush to your cheeks. “Oh. Um… thanks.”

Nagumo grinned, clearly pleased by your reaction. “So you can be cute. Good to know.”

And just like that, the moment was gone. You rolled your eyes, recovering quickly. “Are we going or what?”

“Of course, my dear wife,” he said, offering his arm dramatically. You ignored it, brushing past him to the waiting car.

***

The gala was held at a luxurious high-rise, the entire top floor converted into a glittering ballroom. Soft music played as guests in expensive attire danced, conversed, and drank from crystal glasses.

You and Nagumo stepped inside together, his hand resting casually on the small of your back. He had no trouble slipping into his role, greeting people with smooth charm, laughing at their jokes, and playing the perfect doting fiancé. You, meanwhile, focused on what mattered—gathering intel.

The Yakuza’s elite were here, and all you had to do was play your cards right. You smiled sweetly at an older businessman, subtly steering the conversation toward Sato’s dealings. Another guest, already tipsy, eagerly spilled information about an upcoming meeting in the private lounge. Piece by piece, you pieced together what you needed.

Nagumo watched, amused. “Didn’t know you could be so charming.”

You shot him a look. “I don’t waste my time flirting uselessly like some people.”

He leaned in slightly, voice low. “Oh? But you blush so easily when I do it.”

You stiffened. The memory of his earlier compliment flashed in your mind, making your cheeks warm again. Annoyed at yourself, you turned away.

Nagumo chuckled. “Adorable.”

You forced yourself to focus. This was just a mission. You weren’t going to let him get under your skin.

Nagumo stole a glance at you as you mingled with the guests, effortlessly charming information out of them. He’d always known you were good at this, but seeing it in action was… something else. You were sharp, quick on your feet, and damn good at playing people. It was impressive.

And tonight, you weren’t completely shutting him out. You still snapped at him, sure, but it wasn’t the same cold silence as before. You were responding. Engaging. Talking to him again.

He wasn’t about to admit it, but yeah—he’d missed that.

Not that he was going to apologize.

Did he screw up? Sure. But it wasn’t like he’d meant for Naoko to win. He genuinely thought she wouldn’t be able to piece together the location from what little he told her. A miscalculation on his part. Not a betrayal.

But you obviously didn’t see it that way.

His second mistake? Telling Lu, Shin, and Sakamoto that you’d be back to normal soon. At the time, he figured you’d get mad, maybe sulk for a few days, then move on. You always bounced back. But now, things had dragged out so long that apologizing felt pointless. What was he supposed to say? Oops, my bad, didn’t think you’d take it this hard? Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well.

So instead, he was doing what he did best—pushing forward like nothing happened.

And it was working.

As the night continued, it was difficult for you ro ignore how easy this was for him—how natural he made it seem. The way he laughed when you spoke, the way he reached for your hand absentmindedly, the way his eyes stayed locked on you, as if you were the only person in the room.

For a second, just a second, you almost forgot. Almost.

Then reality crashed back in.

Naoko got to enjoy this side of him, didn’t she? The charm, the attention, the flirtation that felt genuine instead of a taunt. She didn’t get his constant teasing, his comments about how you weren’t quite good enough. No, she got the version of Nagumo that made people fall for him.

Your grip tightened around your champagne glass.

Nagumo recognized that look—you were remembering. Remembering why you were mad in the first place.

He leaned in again, whispering something playful about how you were the most stunning woman here.

you responded flatly, “At least I’m good for something, right?”

Nagumo’s smirk faltered. Just for a second.

He could’ve let it go. Could’ve changed the subject, steered things back into safer waters.

Instead, because he was Nagumo, he said, “Oh, don’t be like that, sweetheart. It’s not my fault you let Naoko outplay you.”

Your fingers twitched around your glass. You didn’t lash out, didn’t let your expression break, but he felt the shift.

Dammit. Maybe that was a bit much.

But before he could say anything else, you turned to another guest, seamlessly sliding back into mission mode, as if he no longer existed.

Nagumo sighed internally. Great. Back to square one.

***

That's it for today! ^^

[a-cross-the-universe]

Normalize leaving unhinged comments on ao3 fics you like. I'm tired of being the only one brave enough to write "I am chewing on this fic" in the comment section. Be weird. Authors will love you for it

[a-cross-the-universe]

SHARP TONGUE

Nagumo Yoichi x f!Reader | Part IV: Fractured Rhythm

Part I. Part II. Part III. Part V

***

The moment you walked out of Sakamoto’s, an awkward silence settled over the shop.

Nagumo clicked his tongue, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "Tch. She’ll get over it."

Lu, still leaning against the counter, arched an eyebrow. "You really think that?"

Shin scratched the back of his head, glancing toward the door. "She was really pissed, man."

Sakamoto let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Nagumo, you seriously screwed up this time."

Nagumo just shrugged, feigning indifference. "She’s overreacting." He pulled out his knife, idly flipping it between his fingers. "Give it a day or two, she’ll come back like nothing happened."

Lu snorted. "Wow. You really don’t know her, do you?"

Nagumo’s smirk faltered for just a second before he scoffed. "You’re all acting like she actually hates me now."

Shin and Lu exchanged a look. Sakamoto just sighed again, already done with Nagumo’s nonsense.

***

The next day, Nagumo strolled into Sakamoto’s shop like usual, acting as if nothing had happened.

You, on the other hand, weren’t there.

At first, he didn’t think much of it—maybe you were just busy. But when Lu casually mentioned later that you had stopped by earlier but left quickly, something inside him twisted.

Still, he brushed it off.

The next time he saw you, it was in passing at JAA headquarters. He flashed his usual grin, hands tucked into his coat pockets. "Yo, kouhai," he drawled.

You barely spared him a glance. "Nagumo-senpai," you said flatly before walking past him.

Nagumo blinked.

That was it? No retort, no eye roll, not even a sarcastic jab?

The next few days followed the same pattern. If you happened to be at Sakamoto’s when he arrived, you found an excuse to leave. If you had to talk to him, you kept it short and polite—so painfully polite it felt like a slap to the face.

And it was driving him insane.

The usual rhythm between you—the sharp banter, the playful jabs, the rare moments of camaraderie—was gone.

Worse, everyone else noticed.

***

"She’s not staying for dinner?" Nagumo tried to keep his voice casual, but Shin caught the brief flicker of irritation in his expression.

Sakamoto, stirring something on the stove, didn’t even look up. "Said she was busy."

Nagumo clicked his tongue, slumping back in his seat. Right. Busy.

Lu leaned against the counter, smirking. "It’s so weird, though. She used to be here all the time, and now suddenly she doesn’t stick around if you’re here? Wonder why that is…"

Nagumo shot her a look. "You’re enjoying this too much."

"I really am."

Shin, watching Nagumo sulk, hesitated before speaking. "You, uh… do realize she’s actually mad at you, right?"

Nagumo waved a hand. "She’s always mad at me."

Sakamoto finally turned, giving him a flat look. "Not like this."

Nagumo scoffed. "She’s just being stubborn."

"Maybe," Lu said, inspecting her nails. "Or maybe she’s just done wasting her time on someone who clearly doesn’t care."

Nagumo froze for a fraction of a second before forcing a smirk. "Tch. You all are acting like she’s never gonna talk to me again."

But the thought lingered.

***

A few days later, he tried a different approach.

You had been forced to stay at Sakamoto’s longer than intended, caught up in a conversation with Aoi. Nagumo, sensing an opportunity, slid into the seat across from you.

"So," he said, lazily twirling his knife between his fingers, "You really gonna keep up this whole ‘silent treatment’ thing? Thought you were more mature than that."

You gave him a neutral glance. "I’m not giving you the silent treatment, Nagumo-senpai."

He narrowed his eyes slightly at the use of senpai.

"Could’ve fooled me," he muttered.

Lu and Shin, sitting nearby, exchanged amused glances but stayed out of it.

Nagumo leaned in slightly, tilting his head. "C’mon. You miss me, don’t you?"

You exhaled slowly, then—finally—gave him something. A small smile.

Not amused. Not genuine. Just polite.

Then you stood up, grabbing your things. "Have a good night, Nagumo-senpai."

And just like that, you were gone.

Nagumo stared at the empty seat, irritation clawing at his chest.

Shin let out a low whistle. "Man. That looked like it hurt."

Nagumo’s knife twirled once more between his fingers before he caught it in his palm. His jaw tightened.

Yeah. It did.

***

This is it for today, I'm happy you all are enjoying this story. ( ´ ▿ ` )

For those wondering, I want to clarify that this story will have a happy ending 😊

I've already written 2-3 (or more) chapters, but I'm struggling to get the characters to reconcile.