#he voices most of the Big Bads
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Is there a Tommy Wiseau or Ed Wood of videogames? There are lots of notoriously bad game designers, but I’m not talking about people who make blatant asset flips or other kinds of dull, soulless Extruded Videogame Product. I’m talking about people who seem to love the medium and have some kind of artistic vision in mind, their work is just... memorable for the wrong reasons.
#the literal 'Ed Wood of videogames'#is probably a she/they tranfem who makes self-published#point-and-click adventure games#with plots that are basically f/f homages/ripoffs of cold war era hammer horror#and graphics that alternate between uncanny valley photoshop#and middle-school-weeb-phase-caliber faux-anime#her repertory company of voice actors encompasses: her wife#her wife's pathfinder DM who wants to branch out into Actual Play podcasts#some theater kids from the local community college#a self-published-audiobook reader who is thrilled to be doing Real Voice Acting#a backyard wrestler with dreams of youtube stardom#the cool goth girl from the weed store#and a stoned italian baby boomer#who has an actual imdb page!#but his career as a professional creeper in b-list gialli#ended before its time due to drug and health troubles#he voices most of the Big Bads#on some level he knows he's making cheese#but it's good to feel like a real actor again#and the young people all treat him like a proper Legend of Horror#and goth girl's cannabis knowledge has genuinely helped with pain management
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#p4g#persona 4 golden#p4#persona 4#hanamura yosuke#yosuke hanamura#ok ok this scene gets to me so bad actually#because yes on the one hand hes playing up that big brother role again#reminding kanji of HIS role as nanako's big brother as well#but its also reminiscent of yosuke's tendency to hide his own sadness and put up a front for others so they wouldnt catch on#i think in this moment its not necessarily a bad thing and yosuke was kind of right (imo anyway)#keeping their spirits high would be a more comforting sight for nanako#who wouldnt want to see them worried#i think its such a strong reflection of yosuke's consideration towards others#part of me is like yes kanji is the one that said it but hes just voicing what everyone else was also thinking in that moment#and yosukes response isnt just for kanji but also for the team and esp Yu#because of them all Yu is the one that undoubtedly looked most heartbroken considering how protectice he was of nanako#even though we cant really see it in game it's very clear how his reaction is like in p4u when he thought nanako might be in danger#anyway yu didnt have a speaking line in this scene so i could be delulu but im pretty sure it was about him as well#he's good with his queue
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hear me out. platonic duo. hunted being small and cold, slowly learning to feel safe around stubs. he is big and warm. also protective of the Tiny Fella. can anyone hear me
"hear me out" you do realize they are two thirds of guts trio right. like, the thing i keep screaming about. /lh
stubborn WILL be stubbornly patient to help hunted through his anxieties
#the freak and the brute.#most of the time:#if big; bad pets. if small; good pets#(though this does not apply to smitten who is big but gives good pets. and opportunist who is small but gives bad pets)#stubborn has to be careful giving pets to hunted#but by god he will pet his little freak#stp#the voices#stp doodles#hunt#stub
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After pondering on it for several days, I have officially decided I did not like the direction of KFP4 and have banished it from my brain. It is no longer canon. KFP4? What's that? Don't know what you're talking about.
#spoilers ahead#it wasn't all bad#I really truly loved the scenes with Li and Mr Ping they were wonderfully hilarious#and the music was great#BUT#I just did not like the direction they took Po's story at all.#and I'm kinda furious they subtly undermined Shifu's character#by making him “fine”/“not fine” with Oogway picking Po as his successor instead of him.#it was only a thing for 2 seconds for the sake of humor but it completely undermines his inner peace character development#first off why can there only be one successor#and second off why can't Po take primarily the fighting side and Shifu take the spiritual side#It FITS HIM#don't know if most people would notice that shifu's character was undermined but because he's one of my favorites I sure did and it HURT#also um the furious five WHY didn't we have them be the main characters with Po instead of the fox chick no one cares about#literally their interactions with Po that's WHY WE'RE HERE DREAMWORKS#also it's become really obvious to me that the fox girl was literally written just so they could cast a specific voice actress in a big rol#nothing against that actress I love her in other stuff but that was a bad move Dreamworks#and another thing#the movie's message about change not always being bad is perfectly fine and good in theory#but such character change is only satisfying from a storytelling perspective if the audience actually WANTS the character to change!!!#I don't WANT Po to stop being the dragon warrior! I don't WANT him to pick a successor! That wasn't satisfying!! like whyyyyyyyyy#Plus he's like way too young?? to be worrying about this??? Oogway didn't worry about it until he was literally 900 years old#Shifu is what in his 60s? 80s? and he hasn't picked one#why would they make shifu worry about po doing that any time soon literally at all#so there dreamworks#I banish this movie#I banish it for one thousand years#kfp4#kung fu panda 4#po kung fu panda
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Some sketcheys of this AU because I needed to get some of it out of my system
#hm i should make an original art tag#darth maul#maul#asajj ventress#senator maul au#the other two nightsisters are just random designs not ocs or canon characters i just wanted to add more dathomirians#because making maul the shortest in a group is one of my favorite visual gags#and i think it's fun that he'd be the most 'colorful' of the group#all clothes are reds n grays because i got lazy . i am not great at designing outfits. and even worse at picking colors for the designs#i gave him (all of them really) silver-ish jewelry because 1. i like the color more and 2. more fitting imo. silver is more magic propertie#i think in this au ventress is in the age range wookieepedia lists as her legends age. so she's like. younger than padmé#an apprentice senator. still learning about the senate and senatorial life so she can take maul's place when he quits#i think the other half of the delegation (or at least the other senator) would be significantly older than them. they're both so young#they need an older person who can be the voice of reason and experience#ventress gets big clotheys because 1. she's a teen here she deserves the proper coverage and 2. it's fun to go the opposite route of usual#fantasy designs where the guy gets a lot of layers and the girl gets clothes that show too much skin#but don't worry he IS wearing space underwear. a bad (or good) camera angle will not catch sight of his peanus in that second sketch
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ok erm. halloween animation meme lowkey postponed until next year (because i know damn well i'll need a whole year to finish this with my motivation 💀) because i have another much more invigorating and fresh idea that i wanna draw for the mtt. inspired by these 3 fuckass monkeys
#my bad chat i forgot how shit my procrastination is...... erm#KEEP AN EYE OUT. next year. and i lowkey just dont have the motivation rn school is pissing me off#blame my math teacher its because she caused me to crash out resulting in a hormone imbalance#which resulted in my loss of motivation for that. TRUST 🤞#anyways i think these monkeys suit them a lot. killer dust horror in that order#i feel like dust is the most obvious because like hearing you cannot turn off compared to sight and speaking#to get through the genocides he would need to forcefully push through it while horror and killer already had fucked up mental states#i would say that killer COUKD be see no evil but i thought it would make more sense for him to be speak no evil#because he's constantly plagued by his guilt yet struggles so damn much to ever confront it or even talk about it#also i think it fits more to have his hand over his mouth bc like. when a authority figure wants control#they usually order people to shut up. like imagining a teacher telling their student to be quiet#your voice is one of the most important forms of self expression and killer's autonomy and self have been beaten so bad#he cannot talk about it anymore. he knows its shit since stage 1 exists. he cannot talk about it#and i gave horror see no evil because until dust he didn't have control over what happened to (some) of what happened#and unlike killer he's perfectly fine with expressing how shit things are. but he just refuses to#he rather delude himself and believe that this was all justified even if its shit. he refuses to see the reality because itd destroy him#i love that the saying was originally meant as a way to avoid doing and thinking evil things#but now its associated with turning a blind eye to wrongdoings. like the world's shittiest coping mechanism#USGAH!!!! they all used to be completely normal sanses b4 they got fucked up........#and now theyre all broken and changed and not morally just anymore..... just like the saying's associations!!!!!!!#and i remember that one ancient ddlc offical art#where all the girls were connected into one big piece. and i wanna do something like thst#and make it one big piece. maybe like as a final know no evil thingy#who knows i need to shower and brush my teeth and then i can get to drawing the sketches for this#tricule rant
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Wait have they actually taken away porky's stammer that was like all he had
#like theres nuance to be sure#but like i feel like you could just not make it the butt of the joke#like I'm sure they've done it where him not being able to get a word out was the entire joke#but most of what i remember of porky pig is that he just sort of talked like that#and that typically the other characters didnt acknowledge or comment about him communicating any differently#i know the original actor wasn't doing a voice that was just the way that he talked#surely respectfully representing a stutter is better than taking it away right#or you could like. use literally any other character than porky. if its that big of a deal#like shit dude not being able to get a word out and substituting a different word you can get out is how you actually deal with that right?#like arguably the character's name being a fat joke is not the most respectful either#if somebody understands this better than i do I'm all ears#i guess i should not be surprised by being baffled by brand management executives or whatever#i kind of just feel bad for the current voices of these characters#that probably wasn't the job they aspired for
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The older I get, the less I like Halo 3, like gameplay, music and set piece wise it's GREAT and I absolutely love replaying it for those aspects, but the story, slight aesthetic changes and bad characterization is just..... Bleh. The only weird characterization I like is Chief and Arby being bros and that's honestly probably the best thing in the game that unfortunately hasn't been explored much(outside of the books, even then still should be explored more)
Oh and Marty O'Donnell should [REDACTED]
#like the sexism and ableism with Cortana. Jonhson constantly having to be rescued#Miranda. and Truth's entire personality doing a 180°(voice change is one thing but they just completely did away with how he was in 2)#Miranda died in a stupid way and MARTY FUCKIN O'DONNELL BEING THE REASON WHY JOHNSON DIED#oh and the aesthetic change of the elites and brutes just doesn't work for me and flood was so bad especially when it came to High Charity#going through a flood infested high charity would be so cool!! but it was tedious and downright ugly to look at#we could've revisited some of the Halo 2 high charity set pieces and see the change done by the flood#but no it was mostly just flesh and pustule hallways that are easy to get lost in#halo 3 is a lot of missed opportunities and most of that is just due to Microsoft pushing for crunch#h2 suffered from crunch and there were concepts lost due to crunch but with all things considered is just a much better story#and Arbiter taking such a big back seat in 3 was so disappointing#I could go on about how much Halo 3 sucks in a character and plot perspective#but I think its just going to be one of things where I should ignore the plot fully and enjoy the gameplay#I will say it IS weird when people complain about Chief and Arby being friends#yeah it could've been handled better but it was ultimately going to happen ajd it was one of the best aspects of 3
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i adore this scene dearly they are so doomed
#talk#smth smth whenever i get to this arc i just enjoy how their characters have changed from when they were little to know WHILE still#maintaining their core traits and fears. like sapphire is a lot more comfortable expressing herself as of ruby#accepting his whole deals with battles and having a more straightforward way of thinking#HOWEVER. their core flaws are also just as present. well in this case its ruby.#he LITERALLY stretches his hand out for her he's literally doing whatever he thinks is best for sapphire which is by not opening up#and hiding the whole situation from her which is. so bad. he's 15 running under a timer#and of course he wants to protect those he loves and wants to do more! but in turn.#he loses her trust. outright kind of confirming what she rlly hates the most. leaving her behind. leaving her out of ideas.#sapphire has a whole plethora of issues as well they're just not as focused on. she literally loses her voice. cause she feels like she's#not trusted to be competent in this situation. whether or not she knows that ruby does it out of genuine care is a bit out there.#and being perceived as weak and not enough rlly. drives home again. that damned salamence incident. guh.#ok thats all i have in the brain#im such a big fan of these two and their cycle of doom until they both get like. three layers of therapy.#coughs blood pokespe oras arc you are awfully rushed but u do have some rlly neat points
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I'm just sitting here mentally telling myself 'I don't have to like him just because I find him attractive, I don't have to like him just because he's hot, I don't have to like him just because I like the character' over and over until I start to believe it
#every single time I love a character I also start to love the actor. sometimes that sucks. I don't want to. I want to pretend he doesn't#exist#but he's got the same face and the same body and the same voice and I just. how do I not do this.#I don't like him. I don't want to like him. he's at the very least kinda gross about women. which I'm not okay with. so. just. ugggh#it's just that I look at him and my mind shuts off and it's like 😍🥰😍#rationally I know that's also fine. I'm allowed to like people who aren't perfect (and no one is perfect anyway)#buuut. it makes me feel disgusting.#idk. I guess I just. i dealt with this for so long when I was younger because like. most of the men I thought were hot were also#misogynistic. because the culture at the time was so much worse. and it was just accepted.#and I fucking hated it and I don't want to deal with that anymore#it's just. idk. it feels gross and bad and I don't like it#but. I do find him extremely attractive and I want him so so bad and I don't know what to do with that#ugh I need to just. not be attracted to people. it happens so rarely but when it does it only causes trouble.#or maybe I need to get over these weird morality standards that I have but I don't think that's possible? like how would that work? I don't#get it.#anyway. yes this is about Eliot/CK no I won't elaborate on that and also I hope he's actually a great guy and everything I've seen#that made me think otherwise is just wrong#I will still stare at his face and think about him and listen to his stupid gross music all day. and I will enjoy it. but I will also#feel conflicted about it 😔#(but damn it he is hot and his arms are big and I am just a human being and I am very very weak 😫 big arms make me fucking stupid)
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♥︎ 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 ♥︎
⟢ ┈ ﹒꒰ the morning after your first time with him, he’s not quite finished with you FT. gojo, nanami, geto, naoya, toji x fem! reader ꒱
AUTHOR’S NOTE. yeah, this could end up being very sweet or very horny. either way, please mind the warnings uwu. also, gojo’s is longer than the rest just bc <3
CONTENT. explicit smut, some sprinkles of fluff, eepy jjk men. ♡ gojo ♡ pet name: baby, princess, cuddling, early morning banter, frottage, v! fingering. ♡ nanami ♡ food cw, he wears a cute lil apron and you show up wearing only his shirt, v! fingering. ♡ geto ♡ pet name: angel, morning wood, early morning stretch, daddy kink. ♡ naoya ♡ pet name: kitten, consensual somnophilia, cunnilingus, kinda rough, squirting in his mouth sorry not sorry <3 ♡ toji ♡ pet name: sweetheart, consensual somnophilia, waking him up by giving head, 69.
LINKS. GEN. MASTERLIST ┆ JJK MASTERLIST
♥︎ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓 ♥︎
ੈ♡‧₊˚ GOJO SATORU
“Satoru, can I tell you something?” You lightly trace your finger down his face. The tips of his eyelashes feel ridiculously soft to the touch, not to mention his glossy lips- ones that have explored your own and your body so thoroughly just a few hours ago, you’ve memorized its shape at this point. His mouth slightly opens when you graze his bottom lip with your thumb. Through his pearly white teeth, warm breath fans the tip of your finger as his chest rises and falls in sync with his light snoring.
“Hm?” For the first time, you’re hit with his raspy morning voice - one you can definitely find yourself getting used to. He catches your hand, peppering lazy, half-asleep kisses at the back of it. “What is it?”
“Nothing. Just- I’m insanely attracted to you, that’s all,” you whisper and his eyes light up at the sudden confession. You haven’t been together long so you saying something like this out of the blue is more than enough to take him aback. Next thing you know, big strong arms wrap around you, piling your weight on top of him.
“This feels nice,” he breathes, sleep finding its way back to his eyes, and you can feel his breaths slow down as he drifts off again.
Flick. “Hey, wake up. Need to hear that voice again.” You lightly flick a finger to his forehead and his eyes flutter open for a few seconds. But that wasn’t enough to fully wake him.
“Can’t. You’re so warm. So soft,” he mutters, tightening his grip around you. He shifts a little, trying to nestle the back of his head into his pillow as he shuts his eyes. “Could stay like this all day long.”
You lean closer to his face, studying his sleeping profile. How could anyone be this perfect? Most people wake up with bed heads, dried up drool on their chin, troll-like attitude, and crusty eyes. Not Gojo Satoru. He’s an angel. He wakes up in the morning looking as if he had a 30-minute head start to his daily skincare routine. As if he even needs one.
“Sooo soft,” he mutters once more, squeezing your sides.
“Hate to be the bearer of bad news you big pervert but you have to get ready for class.”
“Wrong!” He jolts awake. “That’s not something someone ‘insanely attracted’ to me would say.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I’m insanely attracted to you as well, and I say ‘5 more minutes’. Actually, make that an hour.”
You try to brush off his comment, pretending as if heat didn’t just rush to your cheeks at what you’d call a poor attempt at banter. A lie, because of course he’s an expert. “Come on you big baby. Wake up.”
“45 minutes, baby.” A big hand reaches underneath your shirt, soothing your bare back.
“Think you’re being slick, huh?”
“Mmm, shut up and come closer.”
“15 minutes?” you suggest, legs straddling his sides, pussy grinding on his half-hard cock as you draw hearts on his jaw, his hands finding their way to your bare ass.
“Hmm, 30.” He groans and you feel his cock twitch underneath, his hands grabbing the fat of your ass.
“You’re a bad negotiator- mmf.” You purr when he spreads your ass, walls clenching at the slight stretch.
“The worst. So, 30? Actually no. 30 is a done deal if you throw in a little kiss.”
“Deal—”
“On second thought…” his fingers slide down your folds, your mouth pops into an ‘o’ and you know for sure you’re done for the second he slides two digits into your slippery hole. “How ‘bout we make it 30 minutes after round 2?”
You’re definitely going to have to stay in all morning.
ੈ♡‧₊˚ NANAMI KENTO
A wave of confusion hits you when you’re awoken by the sound of something that dropped in a pan, aroma of something frying filling the room. Your eyes dart to the door slightly left open and you’re suddenly aware of the empty space beside you.
You try to look for the clothes you discarded last night but they’re nowhere to be found. So of course, you go for the next best thing.
Coming into the kitchen, you’re met with your partner’s broad and bare back, and your eyes immediately dart to the white lace-trimmed ribbon tied around his waist.
Clad only in pajama pants and that frilly little apron you gifted him as a joke, one that has a pretty pink ‘kiss the chef’ embroidered text at the front, Nanami is way too preoccupied with preparing breakfast for two.
You whistle in a way that’s too flirty for his comfort. Nanami looks over his shoulder, eyes trailing your form up and down, staring way too long at where his signature blue button-down ends just slightly above your upper thighs.
“Careful, your hashes are about to burn.”
“Did you sleep well?” he asks, completely turning off the heat as he makes his way towards you.
“You’re not gonna finish that? Aren’t you going to—” he doesn’t let you finish when he captures your mouth, pulling you into a deep kiss. His hands reach underneath the hems of your (his) shirt, finding your slick folds before pumping you silly with two of his fingers.
“Nope, I’m suddenly craving something else. Sit on the counter, now.”
ੈ♡‧₊˚ GETO SUGURU
You’re woken up by the sound of an alarm. Looking at the clock, it reads ‘7:00 am’ and you’re surprised to find a heavy arm around your waist and something hard pressed up against your ass.
You shift to turn off his alarm, to which Geto’s eyebrows furrow, protesting over your sudden escape from his hold. “Come back here,” he groans, voice a tad deeper than his usual key, swiftly pulling you close to his bare chest.
“You sound so sexy,” you whisper, planting lazy kisses on his nose and on his lips, his erection leaking something warm on your stomach.
“Really? You sounded sexier last night. Need to hear you screaming my name again, angel.” He reaches down, knuckles sliding across your slit as you feel his fist pumping his cock at the same time. For the first time, you’re oriented with what mornings with Geto are like.
The head of his cock runs through your slick folds before finding your hole. You purr at the friction as he enters you, giving a whole new meaning to ‘early morning stretches.’
“Ohh, ohh~” you hum. Your core grows heavy with need, forcing you to try to bounce on his cock, clit grinding against his abdomen as you hold onto his bicep.
“So impatient.” Geto chuckles at your eagerness. “Want daddy to pay attention to your clit?”
“Daddy, daddy, n-need you to move pleasepleaseplease,” you whine. He hooks your leg around his waist, fingers digging into the fat of your ass as he bottoms out.
“Good morning to you too.”
ੈ♡‧₊˚ NAOYA ZEN’IN
You think maybe you’re having one of those dreams. The best kind- one where a warm, wet muscle runs across your puffy slit before sliding in and out of your hole. It feels so hot, so good. Too hot, too good, you feel an orgasm coming-
“Fuuuck,” you cuss breathily, whines choking back a wake up yawn, and your body arches to the sensation in your pussy in place of an early morning stretch. Your eyes blink away the sleep in your eyes. Looking down, you find that black and white head of hair you love so much in between your thighs. And he doesn’t stop devouring your pretty cunt even as you mewl through your high. “Fuck, baby, fuck me!”
It’s real and it’s definitely his tongue sucking on your throbbing clit, definitely his thick fingers relentlessly fucking your wet velvet walls, definitely your pussy squelching from how good his tongue and fingers play with you at this ungodly hour.
“Grrood, mm-you’re-mm-awake,” he talks as if he’s speaking to your pussy, unwilling to part from your sweet little cunt even for a second. He was also like this last night. He told you the taste of your pussy is so damn fucking intoxicating, he could eat you up like a three-course-meal.
“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop!” Your fingers rake through his locks, making him use his teeth on your pussy just because he knows how much you like it when he gets rough. He feels so good going down on you like this, you just can’t help but squeeze his head between your thighs.
“Babybabybaby, fuuuuck- shit!” You feel your pussy twitch two or three times before he gulps, and with his lips still glued to your pussy, you could feel him release a deep chuckle at how much you came undone. Worry washes all over you, heat rising to your face when you realize what you’d done.
“I’m sorry I’m sorry, I didn’t-”
“You taste heavenly kitten, do it again.”
ੈ♡‧₊˚ FUSHIGURO TOJI
Toji wakes up to an all-familiar feeling around his cock, something that wasn’t uncommon before he had you but now that it is you and your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, one arm propped on his thigh for dear life-
“God, I fucking love you.”
He absolutely adores the sight of your head in the morning bobbing up and down his hard length, ass perked, other hand struggling to play with your cunt.
“C’mere and turn around sweetheart. Show me that pretty pussy of yours.”
Ass still perked, only now it’s dangerously close to his face. He spreads your folds with his thumbs, stretching your juicy, clenching entrance and huffing out hot air before he drags out his tongue to lick stripes on your cunt.
“Rrmfh~” Your mewls are muffled as you’re gagged with the head of his cock. The feeling of his tongue on your pussy tickles something in you that makes you suck on his cock, releasing a pop when your mouth leaves his length.
“Ohh~ T-toji baby-fuck-let’s cum together.”
“So fucking needy.” Toji kisses your clit a couple times before making out with your lips. He alternates between nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth and flicking it with his tongue, driving you insane while your own mouth is stuffed full of his cock.
“I rarely have breakfast, but this is a nice little treat.”
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk headcanons#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x reader#nanami x reader#geto x reader#naoya x reader#toji x reader#!love letters#!jjk#!gojo#!toji#!nanami#!naoya#!geto#gojo smut#geto smut#nanami smut#toji smut#naoya smut#gojo satoru#geto suguru#nanami kento#toji fushiguro#naoya zenin#tw daddy#tw piss#!holic
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jjk men when you aren't feeling well but try to hide it...
"hello! i was wondering if you could write an angst but w comfort fluff headcannon w the jjk men? i was thinking reader has an injury or is sick but she hides it, but they find out. it would be great if you can, but if not i totally understand. your writing is amazing!!!" -anon
gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna
satoru gojo: (sprained ankle!)
you're fucked.
you know you are the moment you go to pick yourself up from your boyfriend's hardwood kitchen floors and wince in pain in reaction to the pressure in your left ankle.
you hiss, immediately stumbling back to a sitting position. You look over your outstretched foot to find that your ankle is rapidly swelling, and you curse under your breath.
this is so inconvenient. of all times to injure yourself, you of course had to a day before an important mission. you never handle injuries very well. you are always so quick to brush them off, or at least be in denial about them because you can't stand the thought of feeling helpless or incapable.
especially not when satoru gojo is your boyfriend, who unfortunately knows you far too well to overlook something like an injury to your ankle.
damn. what are you supposed to do? satoru will never let you out of his sight, let alone allow you to go on this mission if he finds out about your injury. as much as you love the way he looks after you, you're not in the mood to accept the fact that you may not be able to walk for a few days without his help.
you try to stand again, stubborn with determination. you grip onto the countertop and rise slowly on your able foot, then lean to press your injured foot down slowly. okay... not so bad! Maybe you can add just a little bit more pressure, and-
"fuck," you curse, sharp pain throbbing through your foot the moment you try to walk. You lift your leg immediately and whimper, leaning your body against the counter. "god dammit," you pout.
you should ice it, you think, but icing it will only make the injury more real. maybe it's not so bad, right? maybe if you just sit down for a bit and push it to the back of your head, it will go away?
you know it's not smart, but truthfully, you don't have the time to worry about a stupid ankle. you're sure you only irritated it. with some rest, you'll be fine.
you hop your way up the stairs with your hand gripping the railing tightly to your shared bedroom and ease yourself into bed. you decide you'll take a nap while you wait for satoru to come home, ignoring the simmering pain in your swollen ankle.
"babyyy!"
you wake suddenly to the sound of satoru's voice singing through the house. you jump and immediately hold in a whimper of pain when you accidentally shift your foot beneath the covers. you can tell solely by the lack of mobility in your ankle that it's, unsurprisingly, gotten worse.
you panic, moving quickly to prop your back up against the headboard. you fix yourself in the most normal possible position you can without agitating your foot, and you turn to the door with an innocent expression the second satoru bursts through with a beam.
"hey, pretty," he walks in and immediately crouches over the bed to wrap you up in a hug. you cringe as his lips meet every crook of your face, his body enveloping you in warmth. "missed you so much today," he sighs.
"missed you too, toru," you wrap your arms around his back. "how was your day?"
"same old same old. the higher-ups only get more annoying each day, if that's even possible," he grumbles into your ear, slumping against you. "what are you doing cooped up here all by yourself? you taking a nap?"
"yeah, I just woke up," you tell him with a hefty exhale, his lips meeting the crook of your neck lazily as he nuzzles into you. "you wanna take one with me, you big baby?" you giggle.
"god yes," satoru agrees. "but first, I'm starving. did you eat while I was gone?"
"nah, I waited for you, toru."
"well, you normally cook, baby, I was waiting for you."
you momentarily freeze and he pulls back reluctantly, not before dotting one more kiss to the crook of your jaw. you had completely forgotten about making dinner, but seeing how you couldn't even walk, those cards were off the table.
he looks down at you with his arms propped on either side of your figure on the bed. your ankle continues to throb, and while you try to hide the pain that you are currently in by shifting ever so subtly beneath him, his sapphire eyes catch the twitch in your brow and the motion of your body beneath his blindfold.
"not that I care if you cook or not. obviously you were tired..." he trails off. "you okay?"
fucking hell, damn those six eyes.
you nod despite yourself, keeping a soft smile as you brush your fingers over satoru's hair. "yeah, of course. just tired like you said. I'm sorry about dinner, it slipped my mind."
"don't you dare apologize," he ducks down to kiss your cheek loudly. "we can go out to eat. make it a date before your big mission tomorrow, yeah?"
you internally deflate. the idea sounds amazing, but going on a date would mean getting up, getting dressed, and walking out the door. you're unfortunately physically incapable of doing any of the above at the moment.
satoru watches the way your shoulders slump and your lips part as if to protest, and he tilts his head in slight confusion. "...or not..." he says slowly.
"sorry, toru, it's not that I don't wanna go, i just don't have the energy..." you excuse pathetically.
satoru's face tells you that he doesn't buy your words, but he complies nonetheless. "that's no problem, baby, we can order in instead."
you sigh and nod with a gentle smile. "that sounds great."
"someone's feeling real lazy today, huh?" he teases, hooking his finger into his blindfold to peel it from his face, revealing his bright irises gazing curiously down at you. "you sure you're just tired?"
"yeah... why?"
"i'm just askin," he says. his eyes dart over you one more time before he pushes himself up with an exhale and tugging at your arm. "come on, let's go to the living room to order."
why the hell does he want to move around so much?!
"um- why can't we just order here?"
a smile quirks on Satoru's lips as though you've made a joke. "cause, we'll be downstairs once the food gets here," he says.
you pucker your lips slightly and tilt your head. "can't we just eat it up here and you can go get it?"
gojo's eyes are now slim with suspicion as he pulls himself back over to you. "i mean, of course i can but you never eat takeout in bed, we always cuddle downstairs and eat."
"I'm tired, can't i change it up today?"
"you know i have no problem doing what you want and pampering you baby," satoru starts slowly. his eyes dash to your legs, and he suddenly notes that he has not seen you bend them in the few minutes he has been home. in fact, you had been rather stagnant instead of running up to clobber him when he entered the room, whether you were previously asleep or not. "but you're acting a little weird."
"no, I'm not," you deny adamantly. you have always been a poor liar, but in the face of Satoru Gojo, your lack of talent in the arena only proves to be more prominent. "you think too much, you know that?"
"you think so?" he raises a brow at you, a hint of playfulness remaining though it is steadily fleeting the longer he examines you. "you think i'm thinking too much if i feel like you're lying to me?"
you press your lips together tightly. "...yes."
"hm," he nods. "come here for a second, pretty," he requests, stepping back a bit to give you room to stand. "just real quick, then you can lay back down and I'll get us that food."
"why do you want me to stand?"
"i wanna give you a big hug," he opens his arms widely. "c'mon, give your loving boyfriend a hug. you'd never deny me that after such a long day."
"come hug me here, then," you roll your eyes, turning to look the other way as heat overtakes your body.
"i want to hold you and pick you up," he argues, knowingly. "just stand and walk to me for one second."
"no."
"no?!"
"no, i don't want to."
"don't want to or you can't?" he accuses, face falling along with his arms. he moves to sit at the edge of the bed beside your legs, resting a hand over your uninjured one. "why can't you get up?" he asks, this time a tad more serious.
"i don't feel like it, satoru, god," you murmur in annoyance, growing agitated with his swiftness to notice that something is wrong.
"don't 'satoru' me, baby, you're the one not telling the truth," he says. "what's wrong with your legs?"
"nothing."
"then stand up."
"no, satoru. stop telling me to stand."
"i will if you tell me what's wrong."
"nothing's wrong!" you shrug harshly, crossing your arms and suddenly taking interest in whatever is outside of the bedroom window. satoru stares at you intently for a moment then back down at your covered legs.
he gazes harshly between the two, pondering, before reaching over to rip the comforter upward to reveal your bare feet. you gasp slightly, jerking to stop him, when your swollen ankle is revealed.
his brows immediately angle and he leans to hastily look over it. "(y/n), what the hell?! what happened to your foot?"
you grow embarrassed suddenly, moving to brush his hands away. "it's not that bad, stop," you say, going to move your leg to the side when you hiss sharply.
"not that bad? baby, your ankle's the size of a golfball!"
"satoru, you're being dramatic."
"what happened?" he asks, concerned. "did this happen while I was gone?"
"it's fine, relax."
"(y/n)," satoru begins sternly. you can tell that you've pinched a nerve. "i'm about to lose it if you don't tell me how this happened and why you were trying to hide it from me."
you frown. "But-"
"Now."
you hug your arms around yourself with another meek shrug. "it's humiliating..." you murmur.
satoru softens slightly. "baby, humiliating? i'm worried about you getting hurt."
"yeah, but-" you sigh and close your eyes, your emotions suddenly getting the best of you. you hate feeling small and weak, as though you can't handle yourself, and you swear every time you injure yourself or get sick, it's the worst possible thing that could happen in the entire world. "i don't know. whatever."
"uh uh uh," your white-haired boyfriend tuts, leaning over the smooth his hand over your leg comfortingly. "it's not 'whatever.' i know exactly how you are. you can't fool me. is this about your mission tomorrow?"
"it's not just about the mission, toru, i just don't- i hate it when i can't do stuff on my own."
"you don't have to tell me something i'm already well aware of." you give him a look. "don't look at me like that. i know you like the back of my hand, and i especially know when you're uncomfortable."
"i get it, toru," you frown.
"why the attitude, hm?" he asks, leaning over to prop his elbow on the other side of you, his body resting against your lap as he peers up at you gently. "it's okay to get hurt- well, no, it's not okay for you to get hurt because it makes me wanna die, but you get what I mean."
your lips twitch in amusement momentarily, leading satoru to grin widely.
"there's that pretty smile."
"it's just-" you huff. "it was such a stupid thing... i rolled my ankle stepping down from closing the cabinets and when it started getting worse, i thought it was so dumb that something so small did that to me so i left it alone. now it's probably twisted, and i just feel really..."
"you're not weak," satoru interjects urgently. "if that's what you're saying, which i'm pretty sure you are. you're far from what i would call weak."
"still. it still made me feel weak. and i'm supposed to go on that mission tomorrow, and i don't know what the hell i'm gonna tell yaga-"
"forget the mission."
"...satoru, i can't just-"
"you can and you will. you have an injury, baby. you can't walk. it's okay, i'll talk to yaga and he'll get someone else on the assignment while I take care of you."
"but the fact that you even have to do that because i was clumsy!" you shake your head and look down. "it's so ridiculous. and i knew you were gonna worry..."
"of course i'm gonna worry, (y/n). no less than you'd worry for me."
"but you're you."
"so? do you worry for me any less because of that?"
"i mean... i know you're always gonna be fine, but... yeah, i guess."
"you guess?" satoru scoffs. "to think, my girlfriend doesn't care about me..."
"oh shut up," you nudge his head away. his grin remains, face turning back to you as he captures you in his soft gaze. "obviously I worry."
"then, there you go," satoru says. his free hand runs over your hip. "i know you can handle yourself just fine and that you're strong as hell, but whether you're going on a mission or stubbing your toe, I'm worrying 'cause i love you."
you pout slightly. "I love you too."
"i know," he beams, kissing your thigh. "so stop with that. as if you'd ever be weak for getting a little boo boo."
"yeah, but now you're not gonna let me do anything," you whine.
"is there really such a big problem with that?" satoru smirks. "try hiding an injury from me again, and you really won't be able to do anything. now let me see."
he pushes himself up to round the edge of the bed. he kneels down and cradles your foot in his hand delicately, fingers grazing the area of swelling. his brow angles. "can you move it?"
you shake your head slowly. "not without it hurting."
"in all seriousness, baby, you need to take better care of yourself. why didn't you ice it?"
"...i wanted it to go away."
"and you walked up the stairs after rolling your ankle?!"
"i wanted to get into bed!"
satoru lowers his head. "what am i gonna do with you? you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."
"it's really not that serious. i just need to rest it a bit and then I'll be fine-"
"i'm gonna go cook you some dinner, okay? then we can eat in bed and cuddle, and then I'll run you a hot bath later."
"satoru, i just said it's not that serious! please don't go burning down the house because of my ankle. we can literally still order food," you try to convince him, but the blue-eyed man is already on his feet, by your side, and kissing your lips.
"not another word. you're practically dying, now, i have to look after you."
"toru-"
"i'll be right back, i'm gonna grab you some ice and a pillow for your foot."
"satoru!"
but when you call him, he's already zooming out of the room and down the stairs. you sigh and plop your head back against the headboard with a soft smile. as humiliating as you find it to be injured, you can never say that gojo doesn't do everything he can, if not excessively more, to look after you when you are.
suguru geto: (cold!)
shit.
you step into the bathroom for the umpteenth time today to blow your nose, clearing your searing throat as you do so with a groan.
something in you knew this morning that you were coming down with a cold when you woke up to that dreadful scratch in the back of your throat, but the idea of getting sick physically ails you more than actually being sick does.
you're far too busy today to be weighed down by some common cold. you're in between meetings at work as you toss another tissue into the women's trash. You have paperwork to finish filling out by midnight, and you have to pick up the girls later from daycare.
how can you be sick of all things?
you know it's likely because you run yourself ragged more often than you need to, and suguru always tells you to slow down and take a breath, but you rarely listen to him. your life moves at a quick pace, constantly on the run from one task to the next, and you truly do not feel that you have the leisure of giving yourself one second to rest.
you're on the verge of earning a new promotion, and you need the money. you need the opportunities, and the accomplishments to care for the family you've built with geto. just as suguru works tirelessly to manage his cult, you work tirelessly to keep a living for yourself.
you're proud of the work you have done, truly you are, but at times it feels as though you are amounting to nothing, chasing promises of a higher position that have yet to come. despite the haziness of the path ahead, you push harder and harder each day.
suguru hates it, how you drive yourself to the brink of insanity day in and day out, but you can't help but be an overachiever. you can't help but work hard for those who may not even deserve it.
and now, of course, you're sick. you can feel your temperature spiking, your nose is stuffy, and your head is pounding. you want to go home and curl into bed, but you have responsibilities to fulfill. just a few more hours... then you're home with geto, with the girls, safe in bed just to wake up and do it all over again tomorrow.
you jump when your phone suddenly rings in your pocket. you pull it out to see your boyfriend's contact, and you straighten yourself up as best as you can to make it sound as though you aren't struggling to breathe through your nostrils.
"hello?"
"hey, babe, how's work going?" suguru's soothing voice echoes through the phone and you sigh, clinging to the comfort his tone provides. you miss him. you want to go home already.
"it's good," you lie. "i have a few more meetings. then some paperwork to finish, but I'll be able to get mimi and nana on time."
"actually, i called to tell you not to worry about that. i got finished up here with the group pretty early, so i'll be able to get them later."
you're relieved that you won't have to expose the girls to your germs in the car. "okay, thanks for letting me know. you need me to pick up some food on the way home?"
"no, we're gonna make pizzas later. the girls have been dying to try it making it from scratch forever, so i'll take them to the store once i get them."
"...oh. okay..." you nod. "there's nothing else you need me to do then?"
"just to come home in one piece," suguru says. "i'm trying to take some stuff off your plate, (y/n). you've been exhausted, and you can't tell me otherwise."
"sugu, I'm fine," you dismiss him, only to turn your head into your elbow to muffle a cough. you forget to mute the call when you do so.
"what was that? are you okay?" the dark-haired man questions quickly. "you're not sick, are you?"
"no, no," you deny fast, voice slightly hoarse. you clear your throat quickly. "something was just- stuck in my throat. but I'm fine. i'm not sick."
suguru's quiet for a moment, and you chew on the inside of your lip while you wait for him to respond. you know it's impossible to fool suguru, especially when it comes to matters regarding you or the girls, but you can't handle him worrying over you right now. his concerns would only bring you back to reality, pulling you from this cycle of overworking you've fallen into. you need to keep going. You can't stop, and if suguru knows you're sick, he will make you stop.
"suguru? you there?" you finally say.
"oh yeah, i'm here," he responds rather quickly, and you internally curse yourself. "what time do you get off?"
"uhhh..." you think about it for a moment. it's 3:30 now, and technically you only have an hour and a half left, but since the girls will be picked up by Suguru, you realize you can finish your paperwork in the office. "today's kind of a long day... so I probably won't be home until... 7?"
"(Y/n)."
"i know, i know, but listen, i just have to finish up this paperwork. that's all."
"weren't you just gonna do it at home?"
"well, yeah, but since you're getting the girls, it's kinda easier for me to finish it here..." you start mumbling lowly, knowing that whatever explanation you give is not one that suguru will willingly accept.
"babe, please just come home at a normal time today. you can't keep doing this to yourself."
"i promise it won't be past 7. i swear. just let me get this done, and I'll be home."
suguru releases a hefty sigh, and you can picture him rubbing his thumb against his forehead in stress. "7 o'clock, (y/n). i mean it. if you're so much as five minutes late, i'm coming over there myself with rainbow dragon."
you chuckle softly. "i promise it won't get to that. i'll be fine, alright? i'll text you when I'm headed out."
"okay. I'll see you in a bit."
after your meetings had ended, your cold symptoms grew worse. your coughs were more frequent, a pile of tissues were stacked at your cubicle, and the glare of your computer screen felt as though it was burning a hole into your already aching head.
you feel miserable, and as luck would have it, your boss placed a new stack of papers onto your desk to finish filling out before you went home on his way out of the door.
you're alone in the office now, surrounded by excess assignments, and you can hardly breathe through your nose. you check the time, and its thirty to the time you told suguru you'd be home. you groan, rubbing your hands over your face.
you're tired. your bones are aching. you want to be with the girls, you want to be home, you don't want to do this anymore. you're so burned out, it hurts, and you want to cry and collapse face-first onto your desk at the same time.
just then, your phone lights up with a message from suguru. you open it eagerly to be greeted with an image of the girls beaming up at the camera in the kitchen, hands covered in tomato sauce as they display them to the phone. beneath the photo, suguru types.
we miss you :(
you break, placing your phone down and shielding your face in your hands as the tears flow. god, you miss spending time with them. you're hardly home anymore because you've been so busy with work, and you're yearning to be held by your boyfriend, to hear the girls laugh, to sink into the bed combined with your deteriorating physical state makes you feel worse.
you miss having a life.
you don't know how long you spend crying in your empty office before your body shuts down on you completely. the energy you exerted shedding tears in addition to your long days at work send you into a deep sleep. before you know it, you're knocked out with your cheek pressed against one of your unfinished papers.
the second you failed to answer Suguru's text, he knew something was wrong. he calls, and calls, and calls after twenty minutes, but you don't answer. He wastes absolutely no time in calling up manami to look after the girls before trekking out of the house to you with rainbow dragon, just as he promised.
he's prepared to break a window when he sees the janitor leaving the building. he takes the opportunity to swoop in through the doors after grumbling something about his girlfriend being inside, before making his way up to you.
when he reaches your office, he finds you lying in the only occupied cubicle. His eyes go wide as he studies your slumped figure, walking slowly to where you're seated. he notes the tissues and cough drop wrappers crowding your space, then the tears that coat your lashes when he kneels down.
"jesus, (y/n)," he murmurs, swiftly getting to work and clearing your desk of all your trash. when he's done, he crouches by you again and runs a hand over your back. "baby, wake up for me. come on," he coaxes softly.
you stir, face tightening in discomfort. suguru sees the bags under your eyes and his frown deepens. Eventually, you wake with furrowed brows, adjusting your blurry eyes to the sight of suguru gazing down at you worriedly.
"sugu...?" you mumble weakly, only to be interrupted by a few coughs that rack your chest. suguru's heart aches.
"i knew it," he sighs, eyes hardening as his hand strokes over your warm forehead. "why don't you listen?"
"what are you doing here?" you grumble, picking your head up slowly. you're greeted with a retched reminder of your headache, and you wince, pressing your hand to your head.
"we had an agreement, remember?" he reminds you, and you slowly recall. you move to grab your phone and the time reads 7:15. "i wasn't joking."
"suguru..."
"stop," he immediately cuts you off. "look at you, (y/n). you've made yourself sick."
"it's just a- a cough," you murmur, rubbing your irritated eyes harshly.
"that's bullshit, baby," he tells you rather firmly. "i don't know why you're trying to hide this from me when i knew something like this would happen. we're going home."
"no, wait, Suguru, i didn't finish my paperwork yet."
"do you think I give two shits about your paperwork?"
his tone comes off rather harshly, and both of you notice. he blinks his eyes tensely and readjusts himself, attempting to reel in his anger. his anger for you, over your lack of care for your wellbeing, at your fucking boss for letting you work yourself like this.
"you've been killing yourself for weeks, (y/n). i won't let you anymore. this is the last straw."
"hold on," you urge. suguru looks down at you, befuddled. "i really can't just up and leave my work behind like this. I'm sorry, I can't."
"what's more important to you, (y/n)? being healthy or working yourself to death?" he proposes, almost pained by the latter. "if you cared about your well-being, you would have asked for an extension or at least had a conversation with your dick of a boss about doing this another time. anyone can see that you aren't feeling well, and someone who cares will tell you that enough is enough."
"don't make me do this, suguru," you whimper. suguru's face relaxes when he sees your eyes glossing over. "don't make me stop. I can't stop."
"baby," he curls his brows, holding your cheek in his hand as he kneels before you. "why are you doing this to yourself?"
"b-because, I have to..."
"no, you don't. i've been telling you this for years, you don't have to do this."
"but I need to make something of myself. i have to keep going. i can't just quit, because if I do, then what will any of this have meant? why have i been doing this?"
"you're breaking my heart, baby," suguru exhales. "this job doesn't define you. i see how hardworking, smart, and strong you are. i see the effort you put into everything you do. i see the commitment in your heart. i see it everywhere, all the time, and that is one of many reasons why i love you so much."
your lips wobble as you look into his hazel eyes as his voice and words melt you into his palm. you've been moving so fast all this time, you've been trying to prevent yourself from falling into suguru's warmth, which has always had the power to make you do anything he says.
"but I can't stand to watch you make yourself sick because you think there's more you need to do. this isn't good for you. you know it isn't."
you nod, red nose flaring as you sniff. "i know," you admit.
"so please, please take a break. i'm literally begging you. you need to come home and rest. i'll take care of everything else, just come home. lay down. come back to us. to me."
your shoulders jerk as a few tears drop from your eyes. "sugu, i can't do this anymore," you finally give in. "i don't even feel like myself. i just want to go home."
"then let's go baby, come on," he stands and takes you with him in his arms, pressing your body to his as he holds you. you sink into him, your exhaustion and your sickness finally crashing down over you. "i'm gonna fucking kill your boss," he murmurs into your hair.
you laugh weakly against him, closing your eyes. "later. just take me home, now. please."
"yes ma'am," he nods, kneeling down to pick you up into his arms. you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest.
"m'gonna get you sick," you mutter.
"we can be sick together," he chuckles. "the girls and I can make you some soup. they've been obsessed with cooking lately," he says, leaning over to shut off your monitor before carrying you off to the elevators.
"that picture of them you sent earlier made me so sad. I miss you guys so much."
"i'm sorry baby, i didn't mean to upset you that much. i was only trying to guilt you a little into coming home early."
you slap his shoulder pathetically. "asshole."
"i know, i'm sorry," he kisses your head. "gonna get you all better in no time."
kento nanami: (low iron!)
you have always been a little anemic, and of course that never really posed as a terrible challenge for you until you ran out of iron supplements.
it is your responsibility undoubtedly to keep track of when you run out and when you need to restock, but recently, you've found yourself neglecting the habit.
you never did like taking iron pills, or any supplements for that matter. you feel as though they take too much out of your daily life, as though they're a burden to your existence, and the harder you think about it, the less inclined you are to keep track of it.
it's been about three weeks since you last took your iron, and while you would like to say that you have improved significantly, you would be lying.
perhaps the first few days of not taking your supplements was fine, but as time droned on, the symptoms kicked back in rather quickly. you are extremely tired all the time, you feel lighter on your feet as if you are going to pass out at any given moment, and your hands and feet are ridiculously cold though it is now the summertime, and the weather outside thoroughly contrasts your body temperature.
you're in denial about the changes, of course. you want to be able to feel fine without the crutch of your pills, but the reality of the situation is that you don't, and it's crushing you for some reason.
what's crushing you more is that you know how disappointed nanami will be to find out that you haven't been being responsible in stocking up on your supplements. he would normally keep track of when you run out in addition to you, but he's reeled it in a bit over the past few months because you wanted him to trust that you can handle taking care of something that you've managed all of your life, so he did.
and yet, here you are, trying to hide the symptoms of your iron deficiency that are only proving harder to veil. nanami has already asked you a few times if you are feeling okay over the past few weeks, therefore you know that he suspects exactly what is happening, but you brush him off each time.
"i'm good, honey," you'd tell him. "just had a long day. what about you? how are you feeling?"
you feel like shit lying to him, but you're afraid of being truthful for some reason. he would scold you, and you'd have to resort to the aid of your only weakness all over again.
god, why can't you just be normal?
you've even tried to ween off of the strict iron-sufficient diet that you've been on practically all your life because you feel like you have something to prove, especially in this world of jujutsu. how can you be a sorcerer with low iron? how can something so smell render you so weak? it's pathetic.
you don't want to think about it, in truth. you want it all to just go away. you want to be fine, to feel fine without eating certain things constantly or taking those damn pills, and you try to force yourself to, but it only grows worse the longer you hide it.
you stumble into your home after a long day of teaching and press your back to the door with a sigh. you know nanami won't be home for another forty or so minutes, so you kick your shoes off, go grab a water, and plop down on the couch.
you feel so tired. you pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes, leaning back. this is stupid, you think. you're being stupid. just reorder the damn pills.
but something stubborn within you refuses. something within you that must prove you can push past this.
you decide to watch some tv to distract you as you wait for nanami to return home. he suggested cooking for you tonight, so you rest until you hear him walking through the door.
"hi honey," he greets. you turn to smile gently at him as he rounds the corner. your cheeks pinch with happiness, your current turmoil momentarily forgotten when you see your husband approach. you go to stand and walk into his open arms, just like you normally do when he comes home.
you put the remote to the side and shoot up. your mind is occupied only by nanami as you move toward him, but you see his face drop and your vision turns upside down, and suddenly, you're falling.
kento is quick to react, ducking down impressively to catch you in his arms before you can hit the ground. you collapse into him, head dizzy and breath suddenly gone.
"sweetheart?! (y/n) are you alright? are you awake?"
you groan, shifting in his strong arms as they cradle you securely. when your vision regains focus, you're staring up at nanami's worried face, your body resting over his lap. you blink rapidly before realizing what just happened.
"oh shit," you whisper.
"(y/n)," nanami says your name again, caressing your cheek sweetly. "are you here with me now?"
"y-yeah," you nod, moving to sit up and press your hand to his chest. "i'm alright."
"absolutely not," he stops you immediately, pressing against you to lay you back down on his lip. you frown, looking up at him. "don't even try sitting up like that right now."
"kento," you start, growing worried by the tense look on his face. "i'm okay, really. i just sat up too fast."
"i know," he affirms, his thumb still smoothing over your skin. "and care to tell me why that alone is making you pass out?"
you can't find the words to respond as you stare at him, likely as guiltily as you feel. he hums knowingly.
"right," he sighs. "(y/n), how long has it been since you've taken your iron?"
and there it is. the very question you had been dreading.
"...i'm not sure what you're-"
"don't. really, don't," he interjects firmly and you shiver, rather unfamiliar with this side of your doting partner. "i'm still trying to adjust to the fact that you haven't been truthful with me. the least you can do is tell me how long it's been."
your heart drops. "kento..."
"i'm not in the mood for stalling, sweetheart. go on. out with it."
the sternness of his voice hardly matches the way he is holding you and stroking your cheek, but nevertheless, you feel awful. you avert your gaze and shrink into yourself. "three weeks."
"three?" he repeats incredulously, and you nod in shame. "i knew it had been over a week, but three, (y/n)?"
"i know," you mutter.
"why? after you told me not to check after you, to trust that you'd take care of yourself," nanami questions. "this is why i tried to help you. i know it can be a hassle sometimes, and forgetting is one thing, but to deliberately stop taking them when you know how much i worry about it... when you know how important it is for you?"
you bite hard on your lip and look away, brows curling. nanami notices immediately and softens himself, leaning down closer to you.
"my love," he starts. "i don't mean to upset you, but this is very upsetting to me."
"i know. i know, i'm sorry..." you whimper.
"but not because it's about me, (y/n), because it's about you. and you've been hiding this from me, of all things. i don't understand."
"i just didn't wanna take them anymore, ken," you say quietly.
the blonde furrows his brows. "you didn't want to take them? have you not been taking them for years?"
"i have but that's the problem. i'm a sorcerer now, and..." you exhale. "the point of being a sorcerer is to not have anything weighing you down, and this weighs me down."
"if anything, (y/n), not taking the supplements weighs you down more."
"no, i just mean- all of it, the whole iron deficiency, i hate it," you confess. "i'm tired of relying on something to be strong. i'm tired of being tied down to this. i wanted to see if i could overcome it, but i can't. i'll always have this problem, and it sucks, ken," you ramble. "if i could go without taking these pills and still do my job like i always have, then just maybe.... maybe i could be better. and i could prove that i... i don't need those stupid pills, or the extra greens, or the- whatever. just all of it."
nanami looks down at you rather sadly. "i had no idea you felt this way."
"i haven't always felt this way. it's just lately, i don't know, i feel pressured to go beyond."
"darling, your iron-deficiency doesn't make you any less talented than other sorcerers."
"i know. i mean, i should know, but i can't help but feel that way."
nanami presses his lips together, smoothing a knuckle over your cheekbone. "i'm sorry you feel like this."
"it's not your fault, ken. and i shouldn't have kept this from you, i know. i'm sorry. i just felt humiliated by it."
"there's nothing for you to be humiliated by," he reassures you. "your deficiency is no different from any of us having to feed ourselves or drink water in between missions to keep ourselves alive. it's a necessity, and though we are sorcerers, we live off of necessities to keep ourselves physically and mentally able to work. you have a responsibility to yourself. just like the rest of us. just because your iron's a little lower doesn't mean anything about who you are as a sorcerer."
"...i never thought of it like that. i've just been thinking of it as a burden."
"it's only a burden if you view it that way. you are a grade one sorcerer who i have watched climb the ranks effortlessly since we were in high school, all the while with an iron deficiency that you have always taken supplements for. that never stopped you," he says. "the problem comes in when you don't keep up with yourself and take care of those needs. just like how i'd be unable to work if i decided to skip my last few meals and drink less water."
"that makes sense," you mumble, capturing his soft brown eyes with yours.
"good," he nods. "(y/n) you can't neglect your needs like this."
"i know."
"i'm being serious. i'll start checking behind you again if i find out that you're not doing what you need to do to take care of your body."
"i know, ken, i'm sorry, i-" you stop yourself and shake your head. "i just let my insecurities get the best of me."
"then, let me handle taking care of your insecurities. you handle taking your supplements. do we have an agreement?"
you nod slowly. "yeah. we do. i'm sorry for lying again, ken."
"please don't do it again," he sighs, ducking to kiss your forehead. "but i know you wouldn't lie to me about anything else, and that you hiding this was solely out of fear."
you slowly move to sit up, and this time, kento helps you very gradually. he guides you back to sit on the couch and cups your face gently, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "i'll go order some more iron and then get started on dinner. alright?"
you hum with a soft smile. "alright. i love you, ken."
he returns your loving smile. "i love you more, sweetheart."
choso kamo: (broken finger!)
it had fully been an accident.
you should have been paying more attention to what you were doing and at the same time, so should have panda.
it really was an honest mistake. you were standing in the doorway as everyone left the classroom, your fingers clutched around the frame as everyone filed out. you were asking around if anyone had seen your boyfriend, and yuta mentioned that he saw him with yuji earlier that day.
you thanked him, and just as you were about to pull your hand away, panda, who was the last out of the room, slammed the door shut behind him thinking you had already moved out of the way.
but you hadn't.
the door flew into your index and middle fingers and you screamed bloody murder. the cursed corpse as well as his classmates whipped their heads around, and to panda's horror, you were knocking your forehead against the wall with tears in your eyes as your fingers trembled in the doorframe.
"(Y/N), HOLY SHIT I'M SO SORRY!"
you hadn't expected panda to actually break one of your fingers, but you give the freak credit for his unnatural strength. you later find out that yuji and choso had gone out to grab food for you when you see a text from your boyfriend pop up asking what flavor ramen you want the second you learn that shoko will not be available until late tonight.
for the time being, you're given a finger splint and pain medicine as though you aren't freaking surrounded by jujutsu sorcery.
and god, did it hurt! like, really, really hurt. your fingers are throbbing, and the one that isn't broken is bruised and stained with some blood. you wish you could be angrier at panda, but his groveling before your feet on his knees eases your frustration a bit. after all, it hadn't been on purpose.
you're sent home and you are given no choice but to wait until choso returns, and you're... nervous. choso never handles the ailment of his loved ones very well. his spiritual and physical connection to his brothers wellbeings' often causes him to lose his mind every time yuji gets accidentally punched in the face during training, and when it comes to you? well, choso is just the same if not somehow worse.
you remember one time you got a papercut and winced when your finger made contact with soap. choso was quick to your side, grasping your wrist and looking over your hand as though it had been severed off.
one thing you have come to know in your relationship with the brunette is that he would (and has) killed someone for the sake of the people closest to him. he does not mess around when it comes to his family, and he certainly doesn't mess around when it comes to you.
and while you think he can be a bit excessive with making sure you're alright when it's hardly necessary, it's first and foremost endearing, and it only makes you realize that he will go ballistic the second he finds out that someone broke your finger.
he doesn't naively think that you can never go unharmed, though he would be incredibly content with the notion if it were plausible. he's familiar with scars, wounds, fights, and battles, and he knows you're in the very center of it just as much as he and his brother are. but still, he hates it when you're hurt. he wants to protect you as best as he can, or to at least prevent you from suffering any more than a sorcerer already has to suffer. he only wants you to be safe.
so to prevent him from having a heart attack, you decide it's better if he doesn't know about the incident. when you answer his texts before heading home, you mention nothing about your poor finger in hopes of him not finding out at least until after you're healed.
that plan of yours, however, fails when choso comes barging through the door three hours earlier than you expected him to return. your eyes go wide from where you sit on the couch, and you have no time to even go to hide your fingers behind your back when choso marches up to you, agitated.
"uh-" you're cut off when he grabs your arm gently and lifts it into the air, your taped crooked finger showcasing itself to him. you press your lips together at how poorly the plan to conceal this from him has failed. "cho-"
"were you gonna tell me about this?" his violet eyes fly to yours in a fury, and you're almost stunned by how aggravated he looks. his voice is calm, low, but his face is wrecked with concern and almost betrayal.
"...i was, but i wanted to wait because i didn't want you to freak out..." you say slowly, watching him softly. "like you are now..?"
"that's not fair, (y/n)," he frowns and you furrow your brows. "that's not fair at all."
"woah, hold on... are you mad at me?"
"i don't know," he answers you honestly, looking between your face and your trembling hand. "i'm... upset."
"who told you about my fingers, love?"
"yuji got a text from yuta," he tells you, moving to sit down on the space beside you with your hand still cradled in his. "he said that panda was begging me not to kill him, and this was after i had talked to you."
"oh..." you sigh. "okay, yeah, i can see how that looks."
"why didn't you tell me you got hurt? and pretty badly too? where's ieiri?"
"she won't be back on campus for another hour," you explain. "i didn't want you to worry, cho, i figured i'd just tell you after it was better, but..."
"why would you try to hide something from me?" he asks you, suddenly sounding hurt. it's clear on his face that he doesn't understand why you would conceal something as important as your health from him, whether it was small or not. you tell each other everything, and that shouldn't have stopped now of all times because you don't want him to worry.
"i didn't know you'd get so upset, cho, honestly," you tell him. "i-" you stop when a sharp pain shoots through your fingers and you gasp. choso's face drops and he gently sets your hand down to his lap, panicked.
"i'm sorry," he apologizes. "shit, you must be in a lot of pain."
"it's nothing i haven't experienced before," you try to reassure him, giving him a tight smile.
"why does that matter?" choso drags his brows together. "pain is pain. i don't like when you feel any of it."
you melt. "i know. i know you don't, i don't like when you feel any of it either."
"so don't... keep stuff like this from me, (y/n)," he says sternly. "please, i need to know. i don't have the same connection to you that i have with my blood brothers, but i'm still connected to you all the same. when you hurt, i hurt."
"i get it cho, i'm sorry," you nod bashfully. "i wasn't trying to make you mad. i just don't like it when you're stressed out."
"i'm always stressed out," he says flatly, and you raise your brows with a halfhearted smile.
"yeah, i know. so why stress you even more?"
"i'd rather be stressed about you if i'm stressing about anything," he says, looking over your face as the hardness in his gaze washes away. "you know you're everything to me."
"i know, baby," you push out your bottom lip, pressing your free hand to the side of his cheek and leaning in to kiss him. his ears burn when you pull away, and he sighs heavily.
"don't offend me by trying to hide stuff like this. it won't work."
"i'm sorryyyy," you giggle and choso grumbles incoherently under his breath.
his gaze goes back to your fingers and his brows curl. "how the hell do you slam a door on someone's hand?" he hisses.
"it was an accident, cho, he didn't mean it."
"i know, and i shouldn't really be angry at him but i can't help but be irritated because you're hurt..." his fingers graze the tape. "how bad does it hurt?"
"cho, it'll be okay."
"that wasn't my question."
you roll your eyes at his attitude with a soft smile. "it hurts as much as a broken finger would."
"right. sorry," he murmurs.
"you're okay, love, you don't need to apologize."
"i still wish i- nevermind," he refrains himself from discussing how he wanted to be there to protect you from such an unpredictable occurence. "is there anything i can do to help you feel better while we wait? do you need anything?"
"ummm," you try to think. "actually, could you grab a new pack of ice from the freezer? and... the snacks you got me earlier."
the brunette's face brightens slightly with the thought that he can do something to help ease your pain as you wait for shoko to return to the school.
he nods in determination, carefully sliding your hand into your lap and kissing your cheek before hopping up to run to the kitchen. he returns with the items you requested, placing the snacks down beside him and lifting the bag of ice over your hand.
"like this?" he eases the bag down and you wince, nodding.
"mhm. yeah," you strain out. choso watches your face sadly, hating the fact that you're hurting.
"i'm sorry for getting upset," he mumbles. you turn to look at him curiously. "i just love you a lot."
"i love you more, cho," you smile gently, leaning your head against his shoulder. he sighs, resting his chin atop your head as he ices your hand. "and don't worry, i get it. i won't try to hide injuries from you anymore."
"i really hope so."
"now can you pass me those chips please?"
toji fushiguro: (knife cut!)
toji is going to absolutely kill you, and you are dreading the moment he does.
he has always told you not to touch his weapons. even if you see any of them lying around his place because he never bothers to clean up in between jobs. his one rule when you're over is to leave them alone and to let him handle them when he gets back. he doesn't care how much you protest, he doesn't care that you want to help him pick up after himself.
no touching. that is all he asks of you.
and of course... one afternoon when he's out sorting out some finances with shiu and one of his knives is glaring at you from where it lay on the kitchen table, you can't help yourself.
you don't really think anything is going to happen. after all, you're not a baby, nor are you an idiot. you know how to handle a freaking knife and you know where to put it, and yet, somehow, you allow your arrogance with the task to distract you. you're not handling it as carefully as you should be, and the second you hear the keys jingling outside the front door, you panic.
the blade, naturally, fumbles in your grasp, and swipes through the air, over your palm, and to the carpet. you jump, stepping away as quickly as it falls. you feel a sting in your hand and look down to see the fresh gash stretching over your skin. you gape as blood slowly simmers from the wound, befuddled as to how something like this even happened so quickly.
you have no time to clean it when you hear the key inside the lock. you hurriedly pick up the knife with your unwounded hand, place it back on the table where you first saw it, rip a napkin from said table to press to your bleeding palm, and clench it into a fist just as the door opens.
toji immediately greets you with a raised brow, jade eyes eying you oddly as he steps in. "the hell are you gettin' into?" he asks, confused by the way you are standing against the wall when he enters.
you're quick to move into his space to distract him from the vision of his knife and from looking any further downward from your face. you lean up on your tiptoes, normal hand on his forearm as you kiss his scarred lips. "what do you mean?"
"why were you just standing there like that?"
"can't I wait by the door for you to come back?" you bat your eyelashes, and toji grunts, gazing down at you with lidded eyes as his hand comes around the small of your back. "i'm just happy to see you."
"you take a pill or somethin', doll?"
you glare at him. "now why would you ask me that?"
"you're just acting a little too nice, that's all."
you scoff. "i don't know what you're talking about, i'm literally always happy to see you."
"yeah, but i was gone for thirty minutes and you never make a show of it like this."
"why are you making it sound like i don't show you love? you're the one who's mean all the time," you retort sassily.
a smirk captures toji's lips as he ducks down to kiss you again. "that's more like it," he murmurs against you. "still ain't answer my question though."
"i literally did. i told you i was waiting for you."
"sure," he says, unconvinced. his eyes drag down your body and momentarily go to your fist when you swiftly wrap both arms around his neck, pulling him down to crash your lips into him once more.
his brows narrow and as you kiss him, and you can feel the blood on your hand seeping through your napkin. you curse internally, lowering your hand back down behind him as he pulls away.
"not that i'm against this," toji starts, voice dangerously low against your mouth. "but it feels like you're tryin' to distract me from something."
"why would i be doing that?" you ask gently, looking up into his piercing eyes. he hums, dragging himself away from you. he grabs your chin softly and tilts your head left and right, looking over your face. "what are you doing?" you ask.
"lookin' for whatever you're hiding."
"i'm not hiding anything, toji."
"uh huh."
shit. it's never a good sign when toji doesn't even try to pretend to believe anything you're saying, and the way he's looking over your face let's you know that he at least suspects you've done something to yourself that he should know about.
you keep your fist to his back as he looks over the rest of your body with a rather relaxed expression, which only means that he doesn't suspect you touching any of his weapons. yet.
you have to keep his attention away from the knife on the table so that he doesn't figure it out.
"can you stop messing around already? i wanna go take a shower," you try to say, but toji doesn't listen.
"turn around f'me."
"huh?"
"huh?" he mimics you, looking at you unimpressed. "turn."
you suck your teeth. "i hate when you get like this."
"and i hate when you lie, now turn."
you grimance. you can't turn around with him looking down at your hand, and you're sure by now that the napkin you hold is coated red. your eye twitches in that moment when you feel a line of blood drip down your wrist.
god dammit. you're so dead.
nonetheless, you try to keep your palm facing inward as you slip it from his back and turn over your left shoulder, which connects to the uninjured hand. the second your back is to him, you bring your bloody hand in front of you.
"yeah, no," you hear toji gruffly say. your heart hammers in your throat and you know what's coming next. he moves around you to wrap his hand around your wrist and tug at it.
you cringe, allowing yourself to accept your fate when he pulls forward your balled up hand.
"open."
"can't we just-"
"open."
you sigh heavily, slowly peeling open your palm to reveal the red-stained napkin balled in it, the line of blood rushing down your inner arm, and the slice that stretches across your hand.
toji's eyes blow wide, and before he asks you anything, he throws his head over his shoulder to locate the knife that sits on the table. "are you fucking kidding me, (y/n)?" he growls, turning back to face you angrily.
"okay, let's not act like this is so crazy!" you immediately defend, throwing your other arm up. "you leave your shit lying around all the time!"
"and every single time, i tell you that i'll take care of it. what the fuck, do i have to go child-proofing the house now because of you?"
"if you would just be more mindful of how you leave your space, you wouldn't even have to worry about shit like this! you shouldn't even have knives lying around in the first place."
"i'm a grown man, (y/n), i know how to avoid cutting myself with the weapons i use daily."
"you're being a prick."
"oh baby, you must not know me because i'm about to be worse," he grunts, eyes heated with fury, and you frown.
"toji, come onnn, it was an accident."
"what do i always say about my weapons, (y/n)?"
"i just wanted to help you put it away, is that so crazy?"
"what. do i say. about my weapons."
you deflate slightly, uneased by the rate at which toji is growing angry with you. "...not to touch them."
"so why the fuck did you touch them?" he growls, picking up the napkin in your palm and tossing it over his shoulder. he looks over your wound and clenches his jaw. "fucking hell, (y/n)."
"look, i'm sorry."
"shut the hell up and come on."
despite his rage, he leads you to the bathoom with surprising care.
when you arrive, he flicks on the light with his free hand and swipes up a cloth from under the sink. he turns to you, pressing it down to your wound to stop the bleeding. once it seems like it's done, he puts the cloth down and turns on the faucet. "put your hand under," he orders, guiding it to the cool water nonetheless.
the water hits your open wound bitterly and you jump, watching the blood run through the drain as toji washes your arm as well.
"sit," he nods over to the bathtub, shutting off the faucet.
you oblige mutely, shuffling over and holding out your hand. you sit slowly on the ledge of the tub and watch as toji shuffles through his cupboards for a bottle of peroxide, some bandages, and ointment. you dread what is coming, for you know your hand is gonna sting like a bitch.
toji thuds over to sit hunched on the closed toilet lid, leaning over to grab your hand again. you stretch your fingers out and he sighs, shaking his head. "so fucking hard-headed," he murmurs.
you watch him screw open the bottle of liquid.
"go slowly," you plead.
"it's gonna hurt all the same, doll," he tells you, and you pout. "you should listen next time, then maybe you wouldn't have to go through this."
"shut the fuck up."
toji clicks his tongue, glancing at you momentarily before leaning down and holding the bottle over you, grasping your wrist loosely with your hand above his knee. "keep still."
the peroxide comes flooding out of the bottle and onto your hand, bubbling instantly over your gash. you whimper, tensing your body and scrunching your eyes at the sting.
"i know," toji mumbles, smoothing his thumb gently over your wrist. "you're alright."
your fingers dig into your thigh as it continues to burn. toji leans over to put down the bottle and continues to caress your arm, lowering your hand to his lap. he blows over your palm slightly as the peroxide dries, and you eventually open your eyes.
"not so bad," he tells you. he leans himself back to reach for a new cloth then pats it around the gash, drying your hand and your arm. he reaches back again for the tube of almost empty ointment he found and twists it open, squeezing it over your wound. "shit, hold on," he stops. he lets you lift your hand as he rushes to wash his own before coming to sit back down at hold yours on his leg again, now with bandages in hand.
you watch him gently as he works the bandage over you with such attentiveness, a dip in his brow proving his focus. you suddenly feel guilty for making him worry.
"i'm sorry," you finally say again, this time with more meaning.
toji's green eyes snap up at you amidst his wrapping. "yeah?"
"i really was just trying to help you. didn't mean to stress you out."
toji sighs, pausing his movements to look you in the eye. "you need to be more careful. i tell you not to touch my stuff because it's not your responsibility. obviously i know you can yourself, but some of my shit's really dangerous and i don't want you gettin' hurt," he gestures to your hand. "it could've been a lot worse, but still."
"if you don't want me touching your weapons, toji, you should probably clean them up more," you quirk a brow and he exhales loudly.
"i'm seeing that now, yeah," he says. "i'll be more careful if you are. don't need my doll getting a bunch of scars 'cause of me, now."
you smile softly. "yeah. i won't touch your stuff anymore, i promise."
"...how about instead i just... teach you how to handle 'em the right way?"
you perk up. "really?"
"i don't see why not. i'd rather you know how to use some of it than see you scrape yourself up because you don't know how to hold a knife."
"don't be a smartass."
toji smirks, continuing with his wrapping of your hand. "i mean it. i'll sit down with you sometime to show you."
"...how about after we're done here?"
"don't fucking push it."
ryomen sukuna: (fever!)
you wake up in a cold sweat, shivering.
you groan in displeasure, rolling over, slightly discombobulated. it can't be any later than 7 am, but you are boiling hot. you press your hand to your forehead and curse. you're sweating profusely and you feel incredibly lightheaded.
you don't even have the energy to get up, but you know that you need to take your temperature. you shudder, carefully shuffling out of bed and wincing as every brush against your skin feels like the stab of a thousand pins and needles.
you lethargically make your way to your bathroom, the cool air hitting your neck and sending you into a fit of shivers. you cling to yourself, teeth chattering, and reach into your cabinet for a thermometer. with half-open eyes, you pop it under your tongue and make your way back to your bed, bundling up in your blankets and curling into a ball.
it feels like hours before the beep resounds, and you slowly lift it from your mouth to read the little digital numbers.
102.4. perfect.
you shudder in pain, tossing the thermometer to the side and nestling your face in your pillows. you feel like absolute shit, but you can't bring yourself to do much else. you need medicine, water, a cool compress, but none of those things you have access to currently.
you close your eyes as your mind swarms, body throbbing and shuddering with chills though the last thing you need is to be cuddled under the covers. you think maybe it will go away if you get some rest. maybe you just need to relax, to take some time in bed. you'll let sukuna know when-
shit! sukuna.
there's no way in hell or on earth that sukuna will allow you to go untreated if you tell him, but god, you don't feel like letting him know. despite his likely haste to make sure you have everything you need, you can only imagine the snarky comments about your fragility, your strange body, your vulnerability that he''ll spout.
you don't want to hear it. you don't want to hear any of it, because you're sure that if you do, you'll start crying. you're already worn down, clearly, and the last thing you need on top of a fever is your boyfriend joking about your weak state.
you elect to stay in bed and tell sukuna you'll see him another time if he pesters you today.
which of course, he does.
a whirlwind of alarming dreams that you almost thought were hallucinations are disrupted by the persistent buzzing of your phone on your dress. you groan, reaching out a shaky hand to blindly grab the device and answer the call, pressing it to your ear with no knowledge of who you're speaking to.
"yes?" you croak.
"can't answer a telephone call the first time it rings?" sukuna's voice thunders through the mic, and you lift your brows.
"kuna?" you try to say his name normally, despite the constant chatter of your teeth.
"who the hell else would it be?"
"sorry... i was asleep."
"at this hour?"
"...what'dy'mean?"
"jesus, woman, it's 2 in the afternoon. why the hell are you still in bed?"
you reel momentarily at his words. 2 pm? it was just 7 in the morning! have you really been sleeping all this time?
"oh..." is all you can manage to say before a chill wracks your body again. you cringe, curling into yourself and holding the phone away from you.
"oh?" the king of curses repeats. "what is the matter with you?"
"n-nothing," you respond quickly. "i guess i was up late last night. i was c-completely knocked out..." you tremble.
"last night you told me you were going to sleep early because you were tired, you brat."
fuckkkk.
how could you have forgotten about that? you hadn't been feeling well last night, which is likely the reason why you feel so much worse today, so you turned in early. "i- couldn't fall asleep until later, though," you mumble.
"you are attempting to deceive me," sukuna grunts. "care to explain why?"
"m'not, kuna," you sigh halfheartedly.
"what exactly do you take me for?"
you're really not in the mood for this. you're aching at this point, and you can tell your body temperature has only risen. you're so weak. you can barely even process the fact that you're on the phone, and you can't handle sukuna's attitude. not if he's not going to help, which you automatically assume that he won't.
"i'm going back to bed," you say softly.
"what do you mean back to bed?!" sukuna fumes. "seriously, what the hell is the matter with you. you sound ill."
"i'm not i-ill."
"then why do you keep stumbling over your words, woman?" he questions, his voice mellowing out into a steady intensity. "what is it now? your monthly plague? whatever you people call allergies?"
this is exactly why you don't want him to know. he handles these things too crudely, as if it's a burden upon his existence. "y-you ask too many damn questions."
"i wouldn't have to if you answered them. now talk."
"i'm fine, sukuna. i'm just gonna go back to sleep."
"you hang up this phone, i'm at your door in two seconds."
"that's impossible."
"try me."
you know he's serious, but you don't have the energy. you can't stay on the phone with him any longer, trying to speak like nothing's wrong. it's cold. so cold, but you're so hot. you're probably drenched in a pool of your own sweat, but you can't feel it. you want to sleep. you just want him to let you sleep.
your vision grows dizzy as you stare ahead, brows arching in discomfort. you think you press the end call button, but you can still hear his voice picking up in urgency... is he shouting? are you even on the phone anymore? you aren't sure.
your vision suddenly drifts into inky blackness as the phone rests beside you on your pillow. the last thing you are aware of before you slip into unconsciousness again is banging at your front door.
sukuna bursts into your apartment mere minutes after you stopped answering him on the phone. he looks about ready to kill, crimson eyes wide and pupils shrunken as he breathes heavily, looking all over your apartment.
he's stomping to your room and throwing the door open when he sees you laying in the bed. "(y/n)!" he barks, searching for some response from you, but all he recieves or nonsensical murmurs.
he moves quickly to the side of your bed and grabs at your shoulder, turning you over to find your sheets drenched and your face tight with discomfort. he falters, heart jerking at the sight. "...the fuck?"
he presses a hand to your sweat-drenched face and furrows his brows in concern. you're hot. too hot for the temperature of a human being, and you're sweating like crazy, mumbling things under your breath in your sleep he can't even hear.
"the fuck did you do?" he grumbles, starting to internally panic. he scrambles to remember what this could be. he knows of plague, of pestilence, so maybe you're suffering some form of that?
hell, he can't tell. not from a glance. he's not even sure if he knows how to help you. you're entirely too hot for him to brush this off like it's nothing, and you passed out in the middle of speaking to him.
he looks over and sees the thermometer on your sheets and leans over to pick it up. the screen reads a high number, which he assumes is the temperature of your body. curious himself, he prods open your jaw and tucks it into your mouth, pressing the button the way you had shown him when you had the flu to reset the time.
"come the fuck on," he growls as seconds tick by before it beeps, and he pulls it from your lips to read 104.7.
he doesn't know how far it is from your usual temp, but he knows it's high. too high.
he's quick to dial uraume for some more information, and the second he hears that you need immediate medical help, he's picking you up and making a run for it without even thinking that uraume can likely help you.
when you wake, you're blinded by nauseating lights blaring down overhead. "ugh," you groan, feeling light and disoriented. you turn your head to the side and blink, to find sukuna's face staring directly at you rather harshly.
you jump slightly, startled. "what-?" you start, scrunching your eyes to adjust to the sight before you. "sukuna? what are you..." you trail off when you realize that you aren't in your house, nor are you at sukuna's estate. instead, you're in a hospital bed hooked up to a series of fluids.
your eyes go wide as you sit up suddenly, only to be hit with a sudden dizzy spell that sends you leaning back into the bed.
"don't move," he orders, and you turn to him in confusion. never would you have expected to see the day that sukuna sits in a chair beside you in a hospital.
"why are we... what happened?"
"apparently you had a high fever," he answers harshly, fist-propping his chin up over his leg. "too high for you to be seen in my care, and too high for you to be lying in bed as though nothing was wrong."
your heart sinks. "how high?"
"when we got here, tipping past 105."
"...are you serious?"
"i had to come bust down your door to make sure you were alive. i put you on an empty roller downstairs because these fucking dumbass doctors can't see me and i had to get their attention so they could notice you. yes, i am serious."
he sounds pissed. and you hardly want to think of what he means by ‘getting their attention.’
"what do you have to say for yourself? for daring to lie to me? for pretending like you weren't on the brink of a much worse fate?"
"...i..."
"you're so lucky you're unwell, girl, because you don't even want to imagine the things i would do to you as punishment for putting yourself in such a ridiculous situation," he growls. "all you had to do was tell me and i would have taken care of it before it got worse."
you blink, almost dumbfounded. you still aren't all there, but you can tell that your fever has gone down significantly. you're no longer sweating and fewer chills wrack your body. "...huh?"
"did that fucking fever scramble your brain or what?" he fumes, eyeing you sharply. "you should have told me."
you part your lips slightly as you look at him. "honestly, sukuna, i didn't think you'd really... i don't know-"
"care?"
"no, not care. i just didn't think you'd handle it well. i didn't even handle it well myself."
"you believe me to be incapable of tending to sickness?"
"no, i just thought you'd like... not take it seriously."
sukuna's eyes darken, and you realize that you may have said the wrong thing. "in what reality would i fail to take any threat to your health seriously, whether you are frail or not?"
"see, that's what i mean. you always have to slip in something about me being frail."
"because you are. as a member of your species. look at where you lay currently," sukuna grimaces. "that is not an insult to you, it's an observation. it's an insult, however, to everyone else who isn't you."
you relax slightly. "then you were actually worried?"
sukuna scoffs. "why the hell do you think i'm sitting in a human hospital with your sick ass right now? i thought we were past you believing i do not concern myself over you."
you suddenly feel foolish, having forced yourself to suffer in your isolation and simultaneously made sukuna, of all people, worry over you.
"hm. feeling foolish, are you?" he says, reading your mind.
"shut up,," you whine, only to clutch your stomach suddenly with a groan. sukuna sighs as he gently eases your head back onto the pillow.
"i told you not to exert yourself. you give me a headache."
"kuna," you mumble.
"what?"
"can you... take me home?"
sukuna raises a brow. "home?"
"to your place," you clarify. "i don't wanna be here. i just want to be with you. want you to hold me."
"you're such a needy thing," he exhales, toying with a strand of your hair as he leans over and gazes gently at you. "you have medications you need to take."
"then bring them with."
"and if you get sick again? you've only been here ten hours."
"ten?!" you exclaim.
"you were very ill, (y/n)."
you groan. "ten is long enough. i hate hospitals. take me home. i feel better anyway, and if i get worse, i’ll just go to uraume."
sukuna sighs, standing slowly. "after i get these tubes out of you without further damaging you, i will take you home," he says, looking over the IVs that you're hooked up to.
you close your eyes tiredly and nod in acceptance. "okay," you murmur.
he grunts. "let me find some damn instructions.”
"kuna," your hand weakly reaches out to catch his wrist and he stops, turning to look down at you.
"what is it?"
you open your eyes to look up at him fondly, exhaustion welling in your gaze. "thank you."
the king of curses clenches his jaw. he smoothes ahead over your now warm forehead and leans over you. "don't do some shit like this again."
#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk fanfic#jjk fandom#anime#jjk#jjk season 2#jjk x you#jjk headcanons#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo headcanons#geto x reader#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto headcanons#kento nanami#nanami x reader#kento nanami headcanons#choso kamo#choso x reader#choso kamo headcanons#choso kamo x reader#kento nanami x reader#suguru geto#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro headcanons#ryomen sukuna
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When Gaz walks into the bases common room, his goal for making his third cup of tea of the day is diverted when he catches sight of Soap’s expression across the room.
The Scot looks absolutely befuddled, eyes wide and sitting slack-jawed across from his Lieutenant. Gaz walks over to the men, catching the very end of Ghost telling his companion to ‘piss off’.
“Alright?” He asks the lads, raising a brow in question.
“Ye oughta hear the shite LT’s tryin’ to convince me of over here!” Soap is all too eager to inform his friend. Ghost grunts, leaning further back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and rolling his eyes as far back as he can, as if to tell the Sergeant in front of him ‘this is why I don’t tell you anything’.
Because that’s almost exactly what Ghost is thinking at that moment. He’d just entered the common room when he’d spotted the back of an all too familiar head, fiddling and distracted with the microwave.
When he’d walked up behind the younger man and echoed his call sign out in greeting, his mask hid the smug smirk that appeared at the jump Soap gave, uttering a loud “Shit!” in surprise.
Soap went on to complain about how he was apparently attempting to jumpstart his heart, drawling on about how the Lieutenant was always sneaking up on people like this, moving quiet as a Ghost.
“My missus says the same thing.” The masked man had mentioned casually, as if his chest hadn’t automatically puffed out in pride, standing up a little straighter at the mention of his girl.
“She says you’re too quiet? Aye, LT, think a lot o’ couples have complaints of the sorts in bed ya see-”
“Shut it, you prick.” Ghost quickly shut him down, ending that line of thought. “She says I walk too quietly in the flat. Accidentally scaring her all the time, poor thing.”
At that, Soap’s eyebrows had shot sky high, keen to hear more about the big bad Ghost’s life of apparent domestic bliss, turning him into an absolute sap.
Ghost wouldn’t normally volunteer information about his personal life. But he just loves you so much. And now that he’s not only thinking about you because he is all the time, but also talking about you, his mouth didn’t seem to want to stop talking about you.
“She put her foot down with me recently.” He’d added with a deep chuckle.
“She did what?” Soap had asked bewildered.
“She called it ‘putting her foot down’. I walked up behind her when she was doin’ dishes. Poor bird didn’t hear me and dropped somethin’.”
“Oh, no! Simon! That’s my favourite mug!!” You’d cried out, watching your most treasured ceramic shattering on the tile floor of the kitchen, spreading every which way across the room.
“M’sorry lovie. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” He’d sheepishly responded, reaching to turn off the running faucet. He’d grabbed the dish towel and gave it to you to dry your hands, lifted you by the waist and set you on the counter with ease, not wanting you to get hurt with your bare feet. He’d turned, already in search of a broom and dust pan.
“Again. You mean I’m sorry for scaring you again.” You had corrected him, narrowing your eyes. “I can’t take it anymore Simon. You don’t need to be stealthy at home, my love, you can make noise when you walk. In fact I need you to make noise when you walk at home!”
Simon had nodded along, diligently sweeping up every piece of your ruined mug.
“I’ll try harder sweetheart. I promise.” He’d offered, dumping the remnants into the bin before he’d walked up to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist as yours slid around his shoulders.
The very next weekend he’d taken you to a local pottery painting class to make up for the lost mug, as well as you telling him off (because yeah, that was what Simon considered you putting your foot down with him, and he never wanted it to happen again if he could help it).
Ghost finds himself grinning further under his mask at the memory however, of how cute you looked as you tried to raise your voice at him, laying down the law in your shared home.
“And so what’d ya tell her?” Soap asked, curious to know how his Lieutenant had reacted, but more so if the man would even reply or rather would tell him to fuck off.
“I didn’t tell her anythin’.” Simon had uttered. “Did as my missus asked me to do, and that was the end of the story. Well, s’pose I did I tell her I’d look into mug making classes or whatever.”
“…”
“You what?!”
#call of duty#call of duty fanfic#call of duty fic#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost cod#ghost fanfic#ghost x reader#ghost x y/n#ghost x you#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley fluff#simon ghost riley x you#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost#cod fluff#cod fic#cod fanfic#cod x reader#cod#readwritealldayallnight#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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suguru is the type to answer the phone while he’s fucking you.
ugh the man he is, while he’s deep inside you and he gets a call and he’s contemplating on answering but does it anyways.
this doesn’t happen all the time but it happens most of the time, he’s a busy man who has a lot of people who rely on him.
you’ve gotten used to it but your eyes will still go big when you see him reaching for his as he’s mid stroke.
your walls clenching up from anxiety but all he’s does is smirk and presses the accept button quickly covering your mouth.
muffled moans will come out and he’ll shoot you a glare as he pushes into you even harder as the distant voices from the phone come out.
“hello?… yeah of course i’m not busy… just chilling out.” you feel so good that he himself can’t even keep his moans down but he’s gotten better over time.
especially with how you clench around him when you hear how nonchalantly he’s talking to the other person on the side.
suguru even thinks your pussy feels better when you’re on the phone, the way you clench around him and make those wide eyes turns him on so much.
he’ll lean down and lower his phone down so he can be at a distance to where the other person can’t hear and say…
“you’re being such a good girl, just keep being quiet.” praising you for lying under him as he pushes all his length inside of you, quiet curses slipping out of his mouth.
the other person will question what he said and he’ll just laugh and shoot you a wink as he smirks before deepening his strokes.
“huh? oh nothing nothing i pushed into something too hard.” sometimes you’ll laugh but the other times you’ll be crying under his hand because of how good it feels.
the way he purposely does things so you can let out a whimper loud enough so the other person can hear.
they’ll ask with a lot of concern coating their voice what was that and suguru will say every time…
“it’s just my dog… she’s being a bad girl.” then push into you quickly causing you to moan so loud there was no way the person wouldn’t notice.
it turns him on so much to answer calls in the middle of fucking, he actually encourages people to call him then flips you over and gets to work.
it’s like a kink, that keeps him going.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk suguru#x reader#jjk geto#suguru geto smut#jujutsu geto#geto x you#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#geto suguru#geto x y/n#getou suguru x y/n#getou suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen suguru
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its a sunday morning and you're entering the elevator with your little nephew. he's whining and stomping his tiny legs as you drag him by his little hand when the doors finally shut.
"c'mon sweetie it's okay...." you pout, crouching down to his level and meeting his wet eyes. you ruffle his hair with your spare hand and hold the newly purchased cap up with your other. "b-but...i wanted d-dynamight's cap!" he says, almost choking on his saliva. "oh, you..." you feel so bad for this little boy. he woke up (himself and you) at 7am on a sunday morning to go stand in the stupid line to get access to the limited edition hero merch. it was too bad that, that stupid dynamight happened to be everybody and their mother's favorite hero, because by the time you reached the entrance they were all sold out. "but, hey, you know, this shoto guy ain't half bad...?" you tried to chirp him up, opening up the cap as you point to the silly little picture of shoto. the elevator's reaching the penthouse, and you sigh when you realise you didn't even press the button for your floor. but hey, at least you finally get to meet the mystery man who bought the most expensive penthouse in your locality.
so your hands are gripping onto your little sad nephew's as he sniffles with his shoto cap on his tiny head and you turn slightly to look at, oh god.
a gorgeous man. tall and buff. a little scar on his right cheek. makes him look so much hotter. and then it hits you at the same time it hits your nephew. that's....
"DYNAMIGHT!!!!"
and you can't do much when the little boy throws himself onto him. dynamight's smirk turning into a worried frown as he wraps his arms around your nephew. "careful, kid." he chuckles as the little boy with wide eyes, tears completely dry now, speaks loudly about how much he loveeeessss him. you can't help but awe at the view infront of you as you realise how nice dynamight would look as a dad.
"you want that cap?" he whispers to the little boy who nods his head eagerly. to this, dynamight remembers izuku, and laughs a little at the memory.
then he takes the cap off of his head and sets it on the boy's.
"wow, you wear your own merch...?" you say as you try to be grateful and not cringe. and he immediately turns his head to you, with eyebrows furrowed, and a big pout on his lips, he's about to put you in your place for saying that.
but when his eyes fall on your face...the only voice that can be heard is your nephew's as he adjusts the cap on his head happily. his asks of an autograph go unheard by dynamight because....?
suddenly he's having heart problems again. and his ears are heating up, and he wants to know your name.
pt.2 pt.3
© startaee 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .
#bakugo fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#bnha drabbles#bakugo drabbles#bakugo katsuki x you#bakugo x you#bnha x you#mha x you#bakugo katsuki drabbles#bnha imagines#mha imagines#bakugo katsuki fluff#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#startaee
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FHUCK MEEEE i need like semi-public sex with dom!choso he’s like on my mind 24/7 uhm
NEW PIN ! ꒰ 🪴 PUT THAT PUSSY ON ME𖧧˚⋆ʚɞ ── choso kamo 𝜗𝜚
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contains. 2k words + nsfw so, minors do not interact. f!reader, dom!cho, boxer!cho, established relationship, blood, sweat, semi public sex, locker room sex, f rec oral, a little ass eating (if you squint), spit, hair pulling, dirty talk, breeding, overstim, creampie, biting, cum eating.
all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; an age-old tradition that’s been torched down from talent to talent said to preserve testosterone, aggression, and most importantly, the drive to win.
it makes sense. not only on the physical side of things, but mentally. discipline — “if a player can’t handle a month or 20 days without having relations, then he’s not really ready to be a professional.”
although choso knew of this prior to becoming a fighter, his coach never actually brought it up to him until you were sat with big child-like eyes, pupils dilated as if trying to drink in every little detail, watching your amateur boyfriend practice for the first time.
it felt like a world of its own with choso sitting atop it on a blood-stained throne. the smell of leather and sweat suffused through the large dome-shaped gym, dull thuds and thumps of fists hitting bags, feet screeching sounding over music.
shirtless, choso’s muscles pumped and flexed as glossy sweat trickled down his temples, merging into rivulets that traced the contours of his face before dripping off his chin and down, down, down his battered body; each quick movement sent salty droplets flying, making dark, little circular marks on the mat.
his arms and core clenched, causing his thick biceps to swell, veins prominent beneath flushed skin like flowing riverbeds; his abs rippling with every rapid punch. the rigid meat of his heavy thighs bulged through black nylon shorts as he hopped around fluidly. dancing. it was truly hypnotic.
about halfway into his practice, you found yourself slightly tilting your head to the side in confusion as his coach moved to point at you.
me?
choso seemed annoyed, running a taped hand through his sweat-ridden hair. then he nodded before they both dispersed to start another round of sparring.
“he said i can’t fuck you anymore”
choso’s wet body clung tightly to your previously dry one, making a sticky connection as he squirted a stream of electrolyte-mixed water from a bottle he clutched with thick hands into his scarred mouth. his usually pink lips were a little red. swollen and plumped, making them jut out, begging to be kissed by your softer ones.
and he was exhausted, visibly. his body sagging when he practically mounted you as soon as he finished practicing, the musky, almost primal scent emitting from him filling your senses in a heady wave as he whined and pouted over his coach’s orders when you asked what had been said earlier, handing him a fresh towel.
“he went full authoritarian on me,” he roughly scrubbed his flushed face with the cloth before dragging it over and around his arms, then abs letting the cotton soak up his sweat, “said we can’t do anything … its so stupid, i’ve done research on it, y’know. it’s a myth”
he rambled on and on, his voice soaked in frustration, bringing up the hundreds of articles he scoured. the way he animatedly swung his arms around, bloodied lip, and still damp with sweat, made you giggle.
you leaned in to gently press a kiss to the corner of his lips. “hey, it’s okay,” you hummed soothingly, contrasting his outburst, “it’s only just before a fight. it can’t be that bad, right?”
and it wouldn’t be.
if choso’s feelings for you didn’t border obsession. he physically can’t go over a day without stuffing your pussy full of his gooey cum and he’d be dammed if some dumb ‘tradition’ that lacked the backing of science stopped him from fucking his pretty girl.
so here you are. embarrassingly parting your sticky folds with meek fingers, revealing your glossy pussy to eager, purpled eyes in the dim back corner of a stuffy locker room.
approximately … thirty seven minutes until choso’s fight.
after a verbal beating from his coach, he was, unwillingly, forced to abstain; forced to spend weeks on edge around you, to not so much as brush a finger against your soft skin because he’d get hard and shoot out hot cum untouched. and he was so close to being successful, too, but he swore he’d lose with how full and heavy his fat balls felt, nudging you into the locker room with empty promises of being “so quick”.
“just need ta taste my baby first,” his voice came out in a heavy whisper as he licked up the fat of your inner thighs, the cooled air of the cramped room circulating and brushing against your achy clit making you flinch, “poor thing .. you missed me too, hm? missed my mouth, pretty?”
“choso hur—”
“shh. ‘m not talkin’ ta you ‘m talkin’ ta her,” he was undividedly staring at your pussy as if trying to commit the filthy imagine of it leaking, clenching around nothing to memory before he rubbed the tip of his flushed nose against your pretty clit, nuzzling into that addictive scent he had been yearning for for what felt like decades.
that said, he was still taking his sweet time.
pressing almost petty pecks to your sensitive thighs, humming out a singsongy ‘aaahh’ before biting into them, leaving fresh pretty marks now that all the old ones have faded. fidgeting on his knees, probably bruising them as he drug his pudgy bulge against the tiled floor until he’s finally, finally moving to lick a long, slow stripe up your pussy, making your hips sputter and buck up against his face.
he’s so loud and messy.
eating you like he’s been starved because, well, technically, he has, “mmmmmm tas’ so fuckin’ good baby. missed— mmhhm havin’ you on my tongue”
cradling your clit with his puffy lips to firmly suck up and drool back out. viscous spit slips out from your pussy, leaving the bench all wet and sticky, so he pauses. because it’s rude to leave messes, shifting his attention from your sloppy hole to drag his tongue on the cold metal bench and clean it all up. the wet muscle brushing, slipping past your ass, making you yelp.
“choso please— hur— hurry. you’re gonna be late” with balled fists you push against his head, musing his inky black hair and if it had been under any other circumstances, he would’ve punished you for interrupting his meal. but he was going to be late, twenty three more minutes and god knows how many rounds it’s gonna take to empty his balls, so he lets you glide all over the thin ice.
just this once.
“fuck, baby, let me fuck that pussy from the front” choso stands up to shove his now tight shorts down to his ankles, his cock springing out, eagerly slapping against his stomach as precum dribbles onto his chest. “always cum so fast when m’ lookin’ at that pretty face”
he wraps his hand around his shaft to move and press his chubby tip against your little hole, scribbling all over it with a hum before leaning to spit a fat bubbly glob onto your needy pussy.
a pretty whine escapes you as you softly lift up your hips begging him to just slip it in, “quit actin so needy, ‘m riiighht here” dragging out his words, he sloowwwly lets his cockhead sink past your folds, whining at how fucking tight you are.
he missed his pretty pussy so much. so, so much.
“fuck, ‘s so big” it’s been a while since you’ve felt the stretch of his cock molding your walls to fit him making tears swell and clump up in your curled lashes as you fling your arms around the slope of his shoulders before you’re shoving your face into the side of his warmed neck.
but he said he needs to see that pretty face, so he’s quickly moving to grab a fist full of your hair, roughly pulling you back by your scalp as you squeal, your mouth falling open to let in and out deep shaky breaths, “look at me”
and he holds you there, forcing you to stare into his darkened eyes as he fully bottoms out to bully his plump, heavy cock up into you. giving you the messiest, most feral strokes. losing his mind in your pretty pussy, already twitching inside you, spilling out pearls of precum that kiss your spongy g spot.
you can’t even moan. just weakly whimpering out broken cries of his name, ”so— ch— cho ssso” as he drags his cock against your gooey walls, his left hand thumbing at your sensitive clit sparking big tears to slip down your cheeks, your eyes hazing over, starting to slip up .. and go back just a little revealing porcelain white, then a little mor-
“i said fuckin’ look at me”
he jerks your head around like some doll; again, forcing you to stare up at him as he knocks the wind out of you with every snap of his waist. and he looks dazed. his hair is messy, mussed, and tossed to his shoulders as sweat catches a few strands to curl up and stick to his temples. he’s almost pink, flushed with so much fever, fucking into your sloppy pussy as he growls, “theeeree you go. ‘m so close, baby— shit. want me to fill that pretty pussy, huh? want me to— fuuuckk pump you full of my cum? hm?”
but his feral growls start to turn into pretty little saccharine whimpers as he gets closer and closer, sputtering his rose-skinned hips, “yeah cho. give it to me— haaa mmm, wan’ it all. fill me up”
“you wan’ it all?” his grip on your hair grows tighter, vice-like, as he mocks your needy little tone with a breathy chuckle, “want me to fuck a baby into you, yeah? knock you up then go knock that fucker out?”
bobbing up and down dumbly, you nod, his words stringing in one ear and quickly out the other because it’s just so fuckin’ good.
he’s pulling you closer, closer, and closer to that edge he loves to dangle you over. “choso ‘m gonna—”
“i know, mama. can feel it. keep lookin’ at me. give it to me”
with a whimper of his name, your knees crash into each other, your toes curling as white-hot pleasure strikes like thick bolts of lightning behind your eyes.
choso’s pulling them back apart and you almost fall off the bench until he’s wrapping his thicker arms around your body to keep fucking into you, “thereee you goo, mhm. look so pretty like that baby” talking you through it so sweetly as if he’s not overstimulating you. rewiring your brain.
“shi— shit, baby fuckin’ milkin’ me .. gonna— ‘m gonna—”
groaning too loud, his hips stilled as he dumped the heavy buildup of cum into your more than welcoming pussy, his head slumping forward to bite into your shoulder and muffle himself.
he’s filling you up so well, shooting thick ropes into your pretty, satiny walls as he pulses and twitches inside you.
but he’s still so hard.
pulling out to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking himself off, roughly, it looks like it hurts, “stick your, haah fuck, stick your fuckin’ tongue out” griping as his chest caves in and heaves until he’s spilling more hot cum onto your pretty fucked out face.
his head falls back, his body swaying slightly as he catches his breath, his muscles relaxing with a heavy sigh until he leans back down to lick up his sticky mess, making you buzz with warmth, twitching at the feeling of his warm tongue. “hhnngg— choso you have to goo”
oh yeah.
he hums, a smile tugging at his lips against your skin before he reluctantly pulls back, moving to draw up his shorts, “almost forgot about that,” he grabs a handful of his messed hair to pull back up into his trademark buns, “i’ll be quick, baby. still got the taste of my good luck charm on my tongue”
not even an hour later, before you can completely clean yourself off and find your bearings, a deafening lion-like roar surges from the full crowd piercing through the thick walls of the locker room. your head quirks up, and then you hurriedly push through the door, almost jogging into the arena.
there he is.
in the center of it all looming over his opponent. the referee pulls up choso’s arm and again; the crowd erupts as the other poor soul winces, crimson-faced, red gloves covering their bloodied expression.
amidst it all, choso’s eyes find yours. he’s licking at the corner of his lips with a knowing smirk.
all big-time boxers practice abstinence for at least a week before their fights; all expect the biggest rising rookie choso kamo.
© planetsage 2024 all rights reserved. no part of this may be reproduced in any form.
#˚⊱𖥸⊰˚ — planetsage#choso kamo#choso#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso smut#choso x female reader#choso x you#choso x y/n#jjk smut#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#kamo choso#jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#choso kamo smut
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