#you can get through them pretty quickly | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

screampied · 7 days ago

Text

𝜗𝜚 BIG BOOOYS!

☆ sum. it's cuffin’ seasooon, and now you’ve got a reasooon to get…stuffed? toji, sukuna, choso, geto, nanami, gojo.

warnings. fem! reader, BIG BOYSSSS like the sza skit song, unprotected, manhandling, dad bods (toji / nanami), size kinks, tf! sukuna, boxer! geto, spīt, full nelson, mating press, dp (sukuna), overstim, dirty talk, praise, marathons, p spanks, hair pulling, breedīng, this got kinda … long LOL sry.

an. will t*mblr let me post thisss …. ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO.

“honey,” nanami warmly purrs, his body weight hovering right over yours. you’re met with the most softhearted eyes, watching cloudy puffy pants leave his mouth. you’d just rode nanami for countless hours nonstop, and with ruffled blond strands sticking to his face, he looked oh so feral for you. your eyes rover down toward his abdomen - so plump ‘n round, and you felt yourself throb the more you gawked at the vertical strip of his blond happy trail that ran down his chest. “hah- you want me to . . fold you like a chair? that sounds kind of painful, no?”

“ken, ‘s okay,” you reassure him, a hand sensually rubbing down his cushiony soft-padded abs. nanami was as soft as an oversized teddy bear, and he was always gentle with you during intimacy. you moan, feeling his split reddish tip gently smear a sloppy slope down your sopping entrance before he pauses to let you finish speaking. “y.. you can be a little rough. i can take it.”

nanami combs a hand through his hair before a coy simper tug at both corners of his thin pink lips. “okay, if that’s what my pretty wife wants- then. .” and you let off a jittery whimper once you feel his big hands start to gingerly shove both of your knees to your chest. his touch was forevermore tender, and nanami hoarsely groans as he watches your limbs gradually extend back. “i’ll . . stretch you,” he grumbles, a sandy brow of his furrowing once he starts to align his leaky cockhead once more. you’re throbbing, salivating from the mouth once the pointed crowns of your knees meet against your bare squishy breasts. leaning in, nanami’s just a few sultry centimeters apart before he sensually licks near your bottom lip. “hold onto me, sweetheart. ‘s gonna get a bit . . bumpy.”

once you’re laid flat on your back, nanami’s tubby tummy hovers over your entire frame. murky huffs of air shoot past his lips once he grabs ahold of your wobbly ankles. you’d already had your pretty laced panties shoved to the side, and oh how soaked you were. “naughty girl,” he huskily grunts, casually starting to rub his wedding ring against your folds. slow. . romantic strokes were all you felt. it lasts for a long few seconds, and he’s just smearing the frigid cold band of the ring around your bawling cunt before he finally gets to the real thing.

nanami grabs ahold of your legs—softly shoving them further into your chest. they meet against your bouncy tits and you moan, feeling the plump head of his cock greet your slobbering cunt with wet, slimy kisses of its own. the noises . . they were so damn loud, and you were already throbbing the more he teased you from just his full-sized tip alone. “ngh, ‘ken. don’t tease me. f.. fuck me,” you whine, another moan leaving from your parted lips the second he’s fully enclosed between your legs. you’re met with his rounded tummy that’s sooo perfect ‘n plump, and nanami’s just inches apart from the button of your nose. time stands still once he finishes aligning his thick cock, unhurriedly inserting himself inside.

oh fuck-

those same two words that ripped out of your whiny larynx repeated past your lips right as he started to ease his way inside. it didn’t take him long to quickly bottom out—and you were folded up like a chair. “s- sooo gorgeous for me,” he lowly groans, blond brows crimping together in needy want. your brief tightness that only lasts for a good three seconds makes nanami suck his teeth. so … damn … good, once he bottoms out all the way, you then hear the bubbly resounding ‘pop!’ that alerted you both that he was fit reaaaal nice ‘n snug. “god, the things you do to me, sweetheart.”

nanami tended to ramble mid-fuck, just spouting a bunch of nonsense against the shell of your ear. with barred, bare hands, he’s making sure your legs stay at the folded position you’re at. his cock’s just so fat though, and your eyes were almost cartoonish—widening like saucers at the precise moment he curves his way through that exact pathway of your cunt that makes you squeal. nanami’s sculptured hips drill into you ferociously, and his body that pounded on top of you after each impactful stroke was just so soft. you’d never get over it—he was like an actual plushie teddy bear.

sluggish arms of yours wrap around him, filling his entire ear canal with your continuous whimpers before he groans. “kento, fuuuckk- fuck!” you’d moan, feeling the bed frailly dip from both pounds of jerking weight.

pap after pap after pap, nanami’s stuffing you full with each mouth-watering inch, and your pussy constantly decided to torture you with its dramatic spasms and fluttering. filled to the very hilt, nanami’s making sure your insides got every single part of him.

he’s groaning, trying his hardest not to crush you with his weight. every few seconds, he’d cup your face with two sweaty palms before slowing down with a timid cunt-drunk grin. whispering out a shaky, “hah- you okay, sweetheart? ‘m not crushin’ my sweet girl, am i?” he’d lovingly caress a thumb across your face, acting as if he wasn’t currently fucking you stupid.

“ ‘m okay,” you’d breathlessly croon out in a sweet throaty tune, almost as if your sweet moans were high notes. nanami was hitting you deep, and with a sloppy pivot of his hips, the angle got even deeper. you’re filling up the four paper-thin walls of the bedroom with your trilling whines, purely engulfed by his loud manly musk. your cunt’s already starting to soak with dewy globs of your juices, even dribbling down your folds and oh it’s comin’ . .

“ken, kentoo—oooh!”

nanami felt his dick twitch inside of you at your dragged-out moan of his name.. but - it wasn’t just a moan—it was a pretty, elongated orgasm that caught you by surprise. his blushing tip was messily kissing your pulsating g-spot, circling all around it while casually feeding your grippy, wet walls. you clung onto him tight with your arms and also your insides. before you knew it though, your high was slowly but surely creepin’ up on you.

“i know- i knowww,” he murmured out of breath, and you could feel him starting to slow down. nanami’s rickety hips were passionate. they were steady, and as you were creaming down his weighty shaft, he planted a kiss on your temple. “thaaat’s it, let go. ‘m right here, kento’s here. i’ll clean you right up, sweetheart.”

his words warmed their way into the key of your heart . . slowly traveling between your legs also to make you throb. you’re whimpering the same repeated chant of his name as your arms were now wrapped around his sweat-glossed waist. nanami chuckles into your neck, and he can feel your arms pull his plump body closer. “mhmm, touch my body all you want, honey,” and you moan, feeling him release the grip on your numb legs. nanami brings his wedding ring toward your teary cunt after he pulled out, giving it one more loving rub. “ ‘m all yours,” he kisses near your lips. “always.”

✩ ˛˚ . SUKUNA RYOMEN.

“keh, you make me laugh, woman,” sukuna grouses, slouching back against his notorious throne as you straddle him. eager ‘n all, you try to align yourself and he grabs your hips firmly with a smug scoff. “you can barely handle one, what makes you think you can handle both of me, hm?”

“ ‘kuna, don’t tease me,” you huff, and he hums once he sees the frustration marinating across your face. cute, sukuna knew you didn’t like being teased but he still enjoyed getting underneath your skin. after all, you were his favorite, and maybe just for tonight . . he’d oblige with your carnal desire to get double stuffed. sukuna folds two of hefty arms behind his broad neck, his other arms occupied by gripping your waist. oh, he looked so priggish. a wolffish grin remains plastered on his lips as he watches you wrap a hand around one of his cocks. they were fuckin’ big, both stacked on top of each other and you moan. “stop lookin’ at me like that.”

sukuna snickers. “heh. my apologies, little one. i’ll look away while you struggle, i guess,” and a fang pops underneath his sinister curled lips once your wet entrances start to slowly kiss against his tips. you’re weeping wet, and you moan with your other arm abruptly tossing around his broad shoulders. you felt your heart’s irregular beats pick up whilst you’re perfectly aligned with both of his thick twinned cocks. with a squelching ‘pop!’ the first one starts to delve inside of your cunt, driving its way past the loose ring of your dripping entrance. “fuuuck, atta girl.” sukuna gravelly grunts, his smugness starting to falter just a bit. as he’s bottoming out, his grip on your hips tighten more. your warmth catches him by surprise—but once you’re taking in his second cock, he smacks together his lips in awe. pink slit brows of his form together into a vexed arch once he growls.

“ ‘s fuckin’ big,” you moan, slightly turning your head to stare at your grinding perked ass. as a few seconds pass, you’re starting to writhe your ass against his lap. successfully, both fat cocks were filled inside each of your gummy orifices. the concise feeling of tightness makes you mewl, feeling sukuna’s overgrown nails gently dig into the plush flesh of your ass cheek. “god, so full ‘kuna, fuuuuck,” you continue to babble, and you already could feel your fluttering tummy starting to giggle with hoards of impatient butterflies. you can’t help but part your lips into a cute ‘o’, nearly drooling once he spanks your ass — his way of encouraging you to ride him faster.

sukuna’s big, and it’s not even about both of his lengthy dicks anymore. he’s a demon, an unruly one that could probably crush you if he wanted. but no . . he had a soft spot for you, an even more softer spot for your sweet, weak pussy. as he sits back against the creaking throne, you gulp, taking in just how big he is compared to you. bloody, ruddy eyes bore back into you as he started to break a cold sweat. “hng, good,” he groans, and you watch as his head gradually starts to fall back.

oh- you’ve got him whipped. once you started up your rocky pace, it was game over.

each towering cock plummets into both of your holes filthy, and the repeated dampened sloshes of your cunt resounded through the walls of his echoey domain. over and over and over. your rhythm starts to get more and more hectic as you progress—and you’re whimpering, continuously feeling one of his swollen tip’s french kiss near your pretty puckering rim. the other one’s messily making out with your g-spot, rudely thrashing its way against that same pulsating target like it was a dart aiming straight for the bullseye. “o- ohhh, fuck. ‘kuna, ‘m not gonna last, ohmygodddd.”

you’re just so full…too full- and before you knew it, you could already feeling your legs preparing to violently snap.

mewling out a sweet, exaggerated ‘oh!’, you end up spraying out a pretty streaming geyser right between your legs. your glossed lips quiver as your awaited high finally comes, whining as you try to continue to swerve your weak hips in gradual arcs. it felt so so good, being plugged full with each of his girthy cocks. fuck, it felt too good that you could almost taste your sudden overwhelming releases on your tastebuds. “fuck, fuuuck,” you whine out in tiny puffs of air, glancing back through fuzzy peripherals to stare back at your ass. honed, sharp fingernails bury into the fat of your bouncy flesh and sukuna snarls at the tasteful friction. “ ‘s good, ‘kuna, ngh!”

“h- heh,” the curse jibes, but even he’s starting to slow down. as your rhythm starts to finally come to a slowing stop, you sheathe your head near his broad chest. sukuna holds you close, quietly snickering at the size difference. you—a mere human, straddling him. it was almost laughable. “you humans are so weak . . so fragile,” he huskily groans, leaning in to pierce his fangs into your neck softly. as if marking his territory, sukuna then licks a stripe up your neck. you’re still stuffed to the very brim, and that’s when he makes you sit up straight. with a disapproving tsk, sukuna crosses all of his arms with a pout like he’s judging you. “cunt’s still too weak though.”

you’re just a babbling mess, the pit of your tummy was in knots as it's still taking in both thickset cursed lengths. from your quavery thighs, it’s a shimmering sap of your precious slick that slithers down between the sprawled crevices of your legs. it’s pretty - and sukuna can’t help but swipe a fat thumb down, getting a taste all for himself. “mhm,” he brings his finger up to his wry compressed lips, savoring your fresh flavor on his spiked tongue. you’re still trying to recollect breaths when the demon softly grabs your chin, boring his cold, scarlet eyes right into yours. “open.”

an overgrown black nail gives the corner of your lips a soft tap and compliantly, you pry open your mouth. sukuna leans in before . . spat! he spits right on the flatness of your pink tongue, hearing you lewdly moan in response. with your flapping lashes nearly blinding your entire view, you could spot that same wolfish grin from an early start to creep against his lips one final time.

“how filthy. my good girl,” and you moan yet again, feeling him press a hand against your tummy — a wee reminder of how stuffed you currently were. “let’s try that again. this time though, i’ll let you ride my stomach tongue, heh.”

✩ ˛˚ . TOJI FUSHIGURO.

“kinkiest shit i’ve ever heard you say, mama,” toji guffaws as his tense shoulders bounce up and down. you couldn’t help but notice the way toji was slowly growing a dad bod, especially after the two of you had another child. he’s still in good shape—and he continued to maintain his usual workouts but fuck, you’d always fawn over his cute round tummy. he’s like a bear, shaggy, chunky, and incredibly soft. every time he’d pound on top of you, his weight would gingerly press into you, rubbing back ‘n forth against your body and you’d just wrap your arms around him. “full nelson, eh? you sure this isn’t the baby fever talkin’ again?”

“tojiii,” you pout, and you watch as he groans the moment you’re aligning yourself on his maddened cream-covered tip. it’s fat - leaking from the top with buttery white droplets of pre. toji reclines back against the couch that sucks his heavy body in as his legs start to spread. once he gets comfy, he looks at you with a sly grin while zeroing his verdant eyes all over your body. “ ‘m sure, i want it,” and you playfully start to run a palm down his bushy hairy chest, stopping at his cute rounded tummy. “want you.”

toji lets out a smoky chortle before pinching a grip near your ass. “alriiight, babygirl. but ‘m not gonna go easy. better hold on tight.”

and oh- toji and full nelson was a deadly combo within itself.

saying he had you stuffed to the max was purely an understatement. one minute you’re on his lap and the next, he’s got you pressed up against his woolly chest with his burly arms pinned up underneath your legs. he’s fucking you silly, plummeting such thick inches inside of your hungry cunt that it makes you see stars. not just stars but the whole damn galaxy. “f- fuuuck, fuck!” you’d gasp, feeling your cunt eagerly twitch at his sudden elastic-like stretch.

toji was strong, and he had no problem lifting you. each time he did, you’d bounce back on his lap, getting stuffed with even more mighty inches of his dick. it’s so wide, he’s merrily caressing through your gummy inner walls before rudely smacking his flushed crownhead against your tender needy cervix. that spot right there makes you shriek, and you can hear toji’s husky laughter from behind the shell of your ear.

“heh- yeah, baby. let me fuckin’ hear ya, take this . . hah, dick like a champ—fuuuck,” and he groans, a single smack of your ass making him briefly bite the inside of his hollow cheek. it’s a lot of weight that’s jerking back against him from you, and toji’s heaving breaths start to get heavier the more your cunt swallows him in wholly..

his virility was unmatched, and toji gave your pretty pussy addictively mean slams until it was squelching out his name. all syllables of it too—

you were loud, especially between your legs which were always toji’s favorite part. “t- tojiii,” you’d whine out his name again, continuously feeling that same caving dip arises near the middle part of your tummy. he’s in so deep, and your back remains to rub against his furry-covered chest. toji’s plump belly was so soft behind you, and the saltiness that started to coat your buds from your incoming release was almost too much to bare. “harder, f- fuck me. ooh! that spot, that f- fuckin’ sp—”

“if i wanted to hear my wife speak i’d ask her talkative pussy instead,” toji grunts, and you let off a bleating whine the second your bare wet cunt’s met with a spank. slap! and the entire sound makes your folds twitch. you moaned, desperately wanting him to do it again. not just once or twice—hell, even thrice. you ached for more of toji’s touch, and he knew that. he knew his wife. you watch as his scarred lips form into a smile, and he spanks your pussy again. “mhm, kinky girl. that turns you on, yeah? ‘course it does. bet if i fuckin’ spat on it you’d go crazy too, hm?”

“tojiii-‘m-gonna-cum,” you whimper out in a quick single second, trying to talk over his rant. you were a bobble head toy, bouncin’ up and down his fat cock. his long girthy inches had you hungry - slobbering from the mouth like a dog for more as he filled you to the very fuckin’ brim. easily, toji’s invading all through your spongy cunt with his thick thighs resting underneath you. your nails cling to his skin like velcro with your mewling whines only pitching louder. “tojiiiii, gonna cu— fuuuck!”

“yeah, i know baby,” he grunts, feeling his balls starting to tighten. toji’s head throws back at the sharp slams of your hips. each time you fall back into his vast lap, his guttural voice drops even deeper. every time it does—you end up throbbing. a cute ‘lil pulse that he always pokes fun at you for. “heh- there’s that cute throb, she’s so fuckin’ needy,” and as your pussy’s squelches cry out even louder, toji growls. “fuck. gonna milk me, s- so good, ‘s that what y’er tryna do?” and you moan, feeling the pad of his thumb ghost down your throat. “want me ‘ta make you a pretty mommy again?”

a whiny, “y-yesss,” slurs out from your glossed lips, and toji snickers. of course. you wanted him to fill you all the way up like always. plug the top until your cunt was just flooded with his hot thick ropes of cum.

and that’s just what he does—toji lets out a gruff groan once he feels himself reaching his limit. with his hips nudging quicker, he grunts at the final punctuating thrust. “f- fuck, take it then. take it like a hah- good girl,” and toji’s plush body underneath you starts to rumble. finally, your legs collapse down from the position they were in once he’s starting to paint the pasty walls of your cunt his whitish color. it’s a lot, ribbons of slick cum that splatter its way throughout the layout of your mottled-covered entrance. “shit,” he swears against your neck, growing quiet to hear the sloppy sounds.

you start to ooze between your thighs, and you moan once toji lifts your leg once more. the bush that glues against his chest hair continued to tickle against your back before you whine. “mhn, atta fuckin’ girl,” he huffs, smearing a thumb down your cunt that’s spitting out any remnants of his gooey seed. it’s hot, drooling down the cracks of your folds that he ends up giving your pussy one more final spank.

“heh, best we start thinkin’ of names again then,” and he nips a soft bite near your ear. “mommy.”

✩ ˛˚ . SATORU GOJO.

he’s the strongest, which also means the strongest in bed.

and satoru’s favorite thing to do was to have you being fucked senseless with your legs gracefully thrown over your head. you’d tease him constantly, saying how since he’s ‘the strongest’, surely, he can’t be the strongest in bed too… right?

wrong,

because that smug ‘lil grin of yours gets wiped off your face almost instantly the second he’s pushing your cute, weak legs over your shoulders. oh- he’d show just how strong he could be, especially underneath the sheets. satoru had stamina for miles, rarely running out of gas and he’d easily steal orgasm after orgasm out of you. after a plethora of pliable positions, you now found yourself laid flat on your back with your legs pinned right behind your head.

“aw! c’mooon, sweets. wanna see how flexible my wife’s pussy can get,” he hoarsely coos, and his playful demeanor slowly vanishes. satoru’s now feral - and he was always feral with you. especially whenever he was stuffed inches deep inside of your sloppy bear-hugging cunt.

you whine, staring up at the white-haired man and he’s still got his blindfold on. it’s halfway on, sexily showing a bit of his right eye as he runs a hand through his tangled frosty strands. satoru’s favorite thing was to manhandle you, toss you around the room ‘n treat your body like a rag doll.

“ ‘toru, fuuuuck,” you’d sob out, the inner pit of your tummy letting off a deep exhale once he’s buried in. the head of his dick’s now thwacking near the hilt, and you’ll never forget the feeling of his long, bulky cock sneakily massaging its way toward your gummy cervix. it’s repetitive, and you’re chewing on your inaudible whimpers at each luscious stroke he gives you. he’s an animal, and each merciless pound makes you trill out his name over ‘n over until your poor, poor vocal chords strain. “don’t stop, p- please. fuck me, fuh— fuuuck.”

“awwwh, my pretty wifey’s so talkative today, especially her too,” he whispers, and you moan once he’s practically laid flat against your bare chest. satoru snakes a hand between your legs, rubbing messy circles against your leaking pussy. a sly grin creases at each corner of his lips as he rubs near your full abdomen. satoru groans, moving his hand toward the middle part of your tummy before softly pressing down - feeling a prodding ‘lil bulge that he knew all too well. “mhm, that’s all me, baby. alllll fuckin’ me.”

your cunt was indeed loud, each sloppy thrust of satoru’s hips whacking into you at full collision makes you gush.

you couldn’t help but soak a portion of his cock with masses of your syrupy slick and it makes him hum. how cute, satoru could even feel your dripping pussy fluttering around his length. he’s thick—and more importantly, he’s fuckin’ big.

satoru’s sweating, and as he continues to hold your legs up over your head, you spot the spasming veins bulging in his arms. beefy, is the perfect word to describe him. every muscle within him flexed whilst he was pounding into you rawly, making sure your greedy cunt always remembered exactly who it belonged to. “mhm, such a pretty girl. gushin’ all on me, think i oughta train thisss—” and he pauses, giving your soddened entrance a playful pat. “—pussy jus’ a bit more, hm? could be a ‘lil stronger, especially since y’r dealin’ with me, baby,” and as he’s talking, he starts to lick near your neck. “fuuuck, ooh i love that fuckin’ grip. nasty girl. mmm, make me just as messy as you, uh huh.”

“fuh— ‘m gonna cum!” you squeak, the intense throbbing between your legs only increases whilst he’s giving you his all with his ragged strokes. into. each hit was more and more ruthless, your head’s spinning, and the beats of your heart only got quicker. you were sure that your pretty glistening slick had his entire cock to the base covered by now. needless to say, you were drenched. satoru even leans upright to your face, snickering once he feels your hands try to pull his blindfold off. “sato—ruuu, cum, ‘m gonna cum.”

“yes, princess i heard you the first time,” he coos, his tone full of smug arrogance. oh, how you wanted to wipe that cocky smirk right off his naturally glossed lips. his appetizing thrusts against you were the definition of straight insanity, and as his hips kept championing at such speedy strokes, you squealed. riiiight there, the mushroomy crown of his cock scraped against the target of your cervix and you nearly go crazy. “ooooh, there it is. there—she—fuckin’ is,” and as his voice grits lower, pausing each stroke to enunciate his sloppy hits against your cunt, it’s almost like he’s talking down to you. but in this case—satoru’s talking down to your cunt, because it’s the only thing he’s staring at.

openly, he snatches his blindfold off and his sparkly eyelashes flap thrice once he makes loving eye contact with your weeping pussy.

“mm, give it to me then, pretty girl. make a fuckin’ mess on me,” and you moan once he pulls your legs up even higher over your head. bringing his sheeny-coated lips up to your ear, he whispers hoarsely, giving your drenched cunt a doubting squeeze. “i dare ya.”

✩ ˛˚ . CHOSO KAMO.

“that?” choso’s eyes widen, hearty irises glued to your phone. you’re showing him some one-minute-long video of a woman getting passionately hammered in what you told him was ‘mating press.’ choso wasn’t new to intimacy, and whenever you recommended new positions for him to try, he’d always get excited. maybe even a bit . . aroused. “o- oh,” and his voice lowly husks, watching at the deeply intimate angles. the woman lay underneath the man and his weight pressed all on her. he was giving her deep and thorough strokes, occasionally giving her sloppy hot kisses in between. choso could feel his heart race as he started to imagine himself doing that exact position to no one other than you.

and he did, because the moment he’s cutely staring at your exposed, nude body underneath him, he can’t help but moan. you’re so pretty, and as he’s feebly trying to align himself, he whimpers.

“mngh, b- baby, ‘s this okay?” and his darkened eyes flicker toward your face. he’s leisurely placing his weight on your body, bringing your legs up to go over his shoulders. glossy, pink lips of his quiver as he feels the weeping wetness of your pussy twitch and drench around his cock. “don’t wanna hah- hurt you, tell me if ‘m too heavy, ‘kay?”

“promise, ‘cho,” you softly coo, your voice as smooth as silk. indeed choso was a tad bit heavy, especially compared to you. he was around a staggering height that’s damn near over feet of six inches tall and he was just looking at you like he was ready to pounce. a needy pout stretches across the thin corners of his lips as he moans, watching openly as your cunt starts to swallow his stoutly pinkish tip. “mmh, that’s it, baby. nice ‘n slow- whenever you’re ready.”

your voice- choso got off from it alone. every sentence that came out of your mouth had him weak. as your legs remained hauled over his droopy shoulders, he’s slowly inserting his cock into your greedy walls. seconds past and it doesn’t take long before wanton whimpers slither their way past your lips. “f- fuck, ‘s fuckin’ warm for me,” choso shudders out a breath, the feeling of your gripping cunt hugging his length tightly sends him shivers. it’s an indescribable feeling that makes his sable-colored brows curl into an arch and within just a few simple thrusts, choso loses it.

within a few rigid beginning thrusts—he gradually starts to get the hang of it. pumpin’ his lanky cock in and out of you as labored breaths snatch from his lungs, he whines yet again. this time though, it’s far louder. you’ve got to cup his face whilst he’s pounding into you rigorously. nearly crushing you with his hefty weight, choso tries to hover a bit over your wet cunt, moaning for the grip as he’s casually rocking back ‘n forth into your warm, welcoming body.

“good boy, f- fuck me, choso- riiight there, mhm!” you’d whine, feeling your eyes starting to dramatically roll and flicker from just his sheer size alone. choso’s cock had such length that it expands allll through you, reading out every area of your cunt like a map. it knows the exact layout, all the secret crevices, and angles to locate and once he reaches there . . you’re fucked.

between you and choso—you honestly don’t even know who’s louder. the moment you call him a ‘good boy’, you can almost feel him melting in your hands like putty. choso’s bumpy hips start to accelerate quicker and you whine every time you feel one of his veins pulse down his cock. “f- fuck, think ‘m gonna hah- cum jus’ from lookin’ at you,” he cutely rambles, each thrust becoming more sloppy. his hips have such power that it makes the entire bed groan out whiny creaks of its own. “you’re so pretty baby, s- so pretty with your legs all over my shoulders like this- heh.”

choso’s fucking you with his pace never slowing, trying to remember how the guy in the video did it. slow and steady, deep but thorough strokes, massage the clit . . and as he’s stretching you out with the swollen head of his cock—you let off a soft shriek. ‘pop!’ and you felt his plump shaft slip out of you immediately.

choso’s pussy-drunken grin falters as he notices his dick fell out of you- but not only that, he’s cumming for real. .

it was so sudden, and as his entire body’s spasming above you, he whimpers whilst struggling to align his milky-covered tip back between the opening of your glistening folds. “f- fuck, ‘s no fair, came too early,” he whines, and you moan once he buries his face into the crook of your neck. he’s embarrassed. your legs were still raised in the air as he’s holding them both firmly, groaning against your skin. a fresh hot batter of oozing cum leaves out of choso’s blushing slit — splattering out lewdly on your puffed pussy folds. choso’s so frustrated that he even tries fucking his cum in between your flaps with the cutest unsatisfied scowl on his lips. “s- sorry, ‘m bein’ a little messy. ‘m sorry, sorry.”

“ ‘s okay, baby,” you let off a quiet moan, your body already starting to feel numb. already, you were starting to miss the gaping outline of his cock driving through your insides but he makes it up by smacking his tip against your cunt. with a wet ‘splash!’ choso ends up smearing his sweltering hot cum all over your entrance, panting the entirety of your twitching sex right his ivory-white color. as he leans in for a kiss, choso clumsily misses your mouth with his lips pressing on your chin instead.

it’s cute, and you had to guide his face with your own hands just to have him shove his tongue into your mouth. choso’s body weight was now starting to grind against you again—but by now, he was straight up jumping you. he wants more, and you could tell as he was moaning into your mouth, grunting from his drooling cock that was rubbing up and down between your pasty entrance.

still swapping cobwebs of spit as the both of you smashed lips on each other—choso’s continues to spank his aching cockhead against your cunt whilst his lips desperately crash against yours. it turns him on, a lot more than he thought- and choso thinks he may have just found out his new favorite kink.

you.

✩ ˛˚ . SUGURU GETO.

being in a relationship with a boxer had its perks.

suguru geto—he was known for his fights, but more importantly his flexible positions. you’d always tease him about it, pokin’ fun at how you wish he’d fold you like his opponents one time for once. but oh, you’re taken aback once he takes you up on that offer.

“nuh uh, don’t tap out now, baby. let’s see that cute form,” geto grunts, pressing a wet kiss near the inside of your neck. the two of you were in his private gym, specifically his private ring where he’d always train. today though, you were needy, teasing him at how you wanted him to be put in a chokehold like he did to his opponents. but, the moment he’s got you straddling his lap as you’re cockwarming him, you’re nothing but a wet babbling mess. you moan, letting off a breathy gasp once the top part of his boxing glove rubs against your sobbing cunt. you were soaked, making a mess on the mat and a soft gasp creeps out the back of your throat once he wraps a beefy arm around your throat.

safely, geto’s got you in a firm chokehold — the exact one you’d usually see him perform on his other opponents. embarrassingly enough, your cunt twitches almost instantly, and you were trying to grind your hips back into him. “hngh, suguru- fuuuck,” you purr out, letting off a weeping mewling whimper as you felt his fat pointed dick ream a path through your insides. the entire gym was quiet. the only sounds that could’ve been heard were the wet sloshing sounds of geto’s glove gently smacking against your sprawled open pussy. psh after pshh and it only gets louder as you squirm, your thighs parting.

he’s big, manhandling you like this while you’re in a mere chokehold. once you’re starting to sloppily bounce on his lap, you can hear him hiss from the enticing friction. the electric sting of both mounds of flesh slamming on each other ends up giving you both whiplash. “h- hah, fuck, good girl. ride it—move those hips, fuck me back- mmph,” he starts to groan, the weight of your ass getting more and more impactful. geto’s meaty thighs glue against yours and you moan, feeling the curve of his cock rummaging through your squashy insides.

he’s so thick, that his plump tip runs through your tremulous walls before it frantically jackhammers its way to your cervix. letting off a squalling ‘ah!’ of a squeak, your back ends up falling into his broad chest. geto’s sweaty, bare skin rubs off against your skin and he groans. the sly dark-haired boxer wore nothing but his thinly made everlast boxing shorts. “suguruuuu,” you cutely drag out his name, moaning at the way his beefy bicep still wrapped around your neck. you’re bouncin’ up and down repeatedly and it’s almost comical at how your eyes were bulging out of their holes. your tongue was fully lolled, and you’ve never felt more stuffed. hit after hit, by this point, you were sure geto’s cock was gonna give your pretty pussy a solid, fair K.O.

but oh, geto ends up fucking you round after round - literally. he went from having you ride him to him pounding you into his squishy, red mat. your face vigorously presses into the cushion as you’re moaning, desperately whining out his name while he’s ‘practicing’ his special techniques on your cunt. the entire scene was lewd, and as you continued to whine out pathetic cacophonies of, ‘suguruuu,’ — ‘riiight there,’ — or his personal favorite, ‘ooooh, hit it there baby!’ ‘s, he’d feel his dick twitch inside you every time.

your ass raises the second he grabs ahold of your hip, and he’s madly drilling into you raw. each sloppy stroke and twist of his hips makes your toes curl and the bittersweet taste of your saliva ends up trickling down the side of your mouth, landing face-first on the vermillion-colored boxing mat. “fuckin’ shiiit, ‘m gonna cum, sweetheart,” he huffs, resting his free hand on your arched spine. so pretty - the way your ass tries to thrust back into his sharp hips was oh-so-cute. your pussy only got more sloppy, and as he’s feeling his cock preparing to release itself, you could almost hear a whimper snarl out from his throat. “ah, tell me where, f- fuck. talk to me, pretty.”

“i- insiiiide,” you squeal out with short breaths, his cock merrily kneading through your walls. it’s almost filthy at how loud your cunt was. just drooling such molasses of sheeny slick on his length, making an even bigger mess between your legs and on the fighting mat too. as he’s giving you his final, victorious thrusts that make your mouth snap open — a fairly lewd K. O., geto grunts, losing the match with his opponent being nothing more than your sweet, slippery cunt.

instantaneously, wads of thin bubbly ropes mesh with your slick juices, a pretty white ring foamin’ around his base. your release slams into you like a semi-truck, and your eyes crossed almost instantly.

with his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he’s pouring in such slimy amounts that end up tearing straight down your pulsing bare slit. geto groans, hazed and all as his darkened eyes glance at how you were perfectly arched for him. this position was perfect for you in his eyes.

ass up — face down, “goddamn,” he grumbles through pearly gritted teeth and a slack jaw. mewing satisfied coos purr out of your spit-slicked lips as you feel him plugging you up to the brim, hearing the wet plops ‘n paps of his hot, sticky cum dripping onto the mat. you only imagined what it looked like, how much of a fuckin’ mess you were. “hah- aren’t you a champ,” he pants, and you moan once geto smacks your ass.

speedily, he now makes you flip over with a swift toss of a single brawny arm before picking you up. “mmhn, sweetheart. you did ‘s good for me,” and as your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, geto gives you a chaste kiss. a few loose strands of hair stick against your forehead as his tongue curls its way inside of your hot mouth before he snickers, pulling away. “ah, there’s one more position i wanna try though.”

“w- what?” you heave, pouting the second his lips depart from yours.

geto re-aligns himself between your leaking cunt that’s still profusely spurting out clods of milky clumps of his cum before he lifts you just a bit higher against his chest. “hm, oh- i just fuck you while standing up,” and you moan, wrapping your arms around his broad neck. ravened, feral eyes meet yours one more time and geto lets off a husky grunt, his boxing glove sneaking between your legs. “you’re my big girl though, yeahh?”

12K notes · View notes

alexiroflife · 4 months ago

Text

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."

12K notes · View notes

sttoru · 7 months ago

Text

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the jjk men coming back home to their lovely housewife after a rough day at work <3

tags. satoru, suguru, toji, sukuna x housewife!female reader (separately). fluff, mostly smut. size difference for all of em. manhandling here n there. p in v -> unprotected. crēampies. brēēding themes. half asleep when writing this—apologies for any grammar errors

𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔. dry humping, cūmshot, reader gets called ‘angel, baby’.

“mmmh.. ya smell like cookies,” satoru sighs as he hugs you from behind, lightly swaying your bodies back and forth in a romantic dance. you had jazz playing in the background while you were baking some cookies, completely relaxing in the comfort of your home.

you got somewhat startled when satoru first appeared behind you, his arms sneaking around your waist. you scolded him—though were quickly soothed back into a loving mood when he kissed your neck and enveloped you in his embrace.

satoru can’t help but to let his urges take over. having his pretty little wife in his arms in that apron he bought, is doing unspeakable things to his body. his hands roam all over your torso until they stop to fondle your breasts.

“no no,” your husband swirls his tongue around your ear as his hands squeeze your chest from underneath your shirt. “continue what you’re doing, angel. let your hubby do what he needs to do, ‘kay?”

you’re used to the usual routine by now; satoru coming home, spoiling you with either gifts, food or his affection before relieving his stress on you. satoru never leaves you sexually frustrated—ever.

“kay,” you nod and just continue to work on the batter for your next batch of chocolate chip cookies. it’s difficult to concentrate when satoru’s warm breath sends shivers down your spine. his tongue slithers from your ear to your neck, unapologetically leaving hickeys. he always makes sure to give you them. you’re his and he needs to keep reminding you of that fact.

“fuck, baby,” satoru’s breath hitches once he feels your hips jolt back against his groin. his fingers brushing against your sensitive nipples was all it took for you to get worked up. you whimper his name under your breath—body squirming in his arms.

satoru bites your earlobe gently, his own hips not able to stay still for another second. he rolls his lower body against yours from behind until you can feel the imprint of his hardening erection pressing against your ass. you grind back against him, to which satoru responds by tweaking your swollen nipples, “such a naughty fuckin’ wife i have.”

your husband is on the edge of just cumming into his pants without any shame. he’s done so before when in your presence—the dry humping always gets to him. it’s a weakness of his that he isn’t good at hiding. he rubs his huge bulge right between your sweet and plump asscheeks, getting off from the feeling.

“gonna make me cum in my pants,” satoru whines and his slender fingers dig into the fat of your breasts even more. he’s needy for you, for every part of you. the fact that you’re sweet enough to accept what he gives you is driving him to the brink of insanity. he tries to stop himself, though to no avail, “shit— don’t wanna— need to cum inside of y—”

a string of whimpers leave satoru’s mouth and his hips spasms against your ass, pressing you against the kitchen counter as he gives one last thrust forward. “my god,” satoru breathes against your nape, his throat dry as he imagines that it’s your warm cunt swallowing every drop of his cum instead of his boxers.

you turn your head to look at satoru behind you. “are you okay, hubby?” you ask through soft breaths. the white-haired man shivers at your smooth voice which makes him press the bulge in his pants against your behind even tighter. you can feel a certain wetness starting to form on the front of your lover’s pants.

“yeah, totally fine,” satoru breathes out, trying to stay cool, calm and collected. he’s trying his best not to ravage you right now. he’s throbbing—blood flowing into his cock again already. you’re the only one who could trigger such sensual reactions from him.

satoru pats your ass a couple times, letting his wet tip rub against your folds through his pants;

“just wish i could’ve bred y’r cunt instead. fuck—can i? need to pump my pretty girl full before i go insane.”

𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔. on the table top lol, reader gets called ‘sweetheart, darling’

suguru always makes a beeline towards you after he gets home. it’s tough being a cult leader—having to ‘treat’ people who come begging him for help. having to exorcise those curses that haunt those incompetent buffoons.

all of it is exhausting to the sorcerer. and what better way is there than to find solace in the presence of his stay at home wife?

“sweetheart,” suguru shows you that handsome smile of his the moment he steps into the living room, “need some help?” his eyes dart down at you on your knees, manually scrubbing a spot underneath the couch that was hard to reach. his gaze is focused on the arch of your back, how your ass sticks up as you complain about you’re inability to reach that spot in the corner.

“no, ‘tis fine,” you sigh and give up. you sit up straight on your knees and finally look at suguru. you didn’t expect him to stand so close to you in under a second, his hands reaching for you the moment he comes into your vision.

before you know it, you’re stripped from your shorts and panties. your back is on top of the nearest dining table and suguru’s standing right between your spread legs. he reveals his stiff cock after unzipping his pants and gives it a good few pumps as he looks you up and down, “i’ll fuck the frustration out of you, yeah? don’t you worry, darling.”

a win-win situation; suguru gets to take care of his needs and you get to forget about your exhaustion from all the household chores. your back arches off the surface and your eyes widen the second you feel his dick invade your tight pussy.

“mmh, yeah— that’s it,” suguru grunts, not able to take off his eyes from your wet folds as his cock disappears between them with each thrust. he starts off slow, allowing you to get used to the feeling of being stretched out, “you’re doing so well. you deserve this and so much more.” you appreciate the little things your husband does to make sure you stay comfortable throughout the entire process.

“suguruu,” you moan out his name, to which he responds with a short hum. your nails dig into his muscular back with every move—each time his tip taps that sweet spot deep inside of you. suguru kisses the inside of your upper arm before moving up to place a peck on your forehead.

“mhm, such a good little wife,” he sighs in content and fails to contain those noises of pleasure. you catch the faint grunts and moans that leave his lips between heavy breaths. suguru’s completely blessed to have you be his forever lover, “thank you for taking care of the house today as well.”

your stomach fills with butterflies because of his smooth tone. suguru’s calm yet hoarse voice ringing in your ears makes you want to burst already. the long-haired man punctuates his thrusts with pecks on your cheeks—kissing you after each slow yet harsh hip thrust.

your teary eyes meet his and you’re completely mesmerised by the way he looks at you. your husband is careful about the way he treats you, especially during intimate moments where you’re the most vulnerable.

though at the end of the day, he’s also but a man. seeing his gorgeous wife underneath him as he’s drilling into her will make him lose it. no doubt. all suguru wishes to do is to make that belly of yours expand with his love—his cum;

“hold onto me, sweetheart. i’m going to go a bit harder on you today, is that okay? yeah? good girl, take it for me.”

𝐅. 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈; mating press, reader gets called ‘doll, wife, ma.’

assassin work is not for the weak. you know it, toji knows it. he always comes back home late at night. sometimes he doesn’t return home for days on end. you’re constantly living in fear that your husband may never return. even as toji reassures you that he will, every day.

“were ya worried again, doll?” toji asks as he tries to console you. you had been crying, he could guess by the dried tears on your cheeks. it’s around three in the morning and he had returned from yet another mission. only to find you still up.

“you promised you’ll stop doing such dangerous work,” you hiccup, trying your best not to cry again. toji sighs and turns your face so he could look you in the eye. he can’t help the tingle of excitement that runs down his spine—you’re adorable when you’re upset, “i did, didn’t i?” toji nods as his callused hand runs up and down your side.

he feels guilty every single night. he’s going to quit his job for your sake, though first, he has to save up some money that would last you a couple months. toji hates seeing you in distress about him and thus always tries to distract you.

by pleasuring you until you’re unable to think about nothing but him.

“i’ll make it up to ya,” toji grunts the moment he has your legs up in the air, your body nearly folded in half underneath his bigger one. he loves this position solely because he can see every change in your facial expressions. “c’mon, wife,” the dark-haired man mumbles, his eyes glued to your bouncy breasts and pouty lips, “told ya not to worry too much ‘bout me, yeah?”

you nod, knowing you should trust your husband. he’s never once broken his promises of coming back home to you. so, you simply let go and moan his name repeatedly as his tip kisses the deepest parts of your insides. “i—i trust you,” your tongue rolls out due to how well toji’s pounding you into the mattress.

toji grins at the sight. just a couple thrusts and you’re gone—completely cockdrunk without a worry in sight. he lets out a moan at the way you’re holding onto him so desperately, like you don’t want him to go. “fuck, keep that up ‘n i’m gonna knock you up, ma,” toji hisses. he can’t keep himself from cumming right inside of your cunt if it keeps on squeezing him.

you can’t even respond due to his thrusts knocking the wind out of your lungs. you can only babble about how deep he is and how you’d love to carry his kid. toji’s on cloud nine as he hears you confess your desires to get impregnated by none other than him;

“mmh, don’tcha worry, ‘m g’nna make you a momma soon enough. that way y’ won’t be lonely no more when i’m gone. gonna give you a kid so that you’ll always have a piece of me around—heh.”

𝐒. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍; heian era. degradation. cunnilingus. reader gets called ‘woman, brat,’

all you can do when sukuna isn’t around, is bore yourself to death. you hang out with your lady-in-waiting or with the cats walking around the estate. sometimes you go visit markets or other beautiful places right outside of the area, but that’s all there is to it.

though, when sukuna returns from his duties, you’re always happily welcoming him back. you’re the first one to greet him and lead him to a place of relaxation. that place being your shared bedroom. sukuna’s hungry eyes that are focusing on the way your clothes fit around your curves tell you more than enough.

“where ‘s my dinner, woman?” the king of curses’ deep baritone nearly makes you shake. you watch as he sits back against the headboard of the bed, his expression stoic yet amused. you know he doesn’t mean real food—he means you.

you’re his dinner.

you take the hint and slowly undress yourself, a strip tease to make sukuna excited about what’s to come. however there are more consequences to teasing him, as he isn’t a person known for his patience.

“stop wriggling,” sukuna scoffs against your wet cunt not a minute later. your clothes are ripped off your body and your legs are wrapped around his head. you can’t stay still when sukuna’s tongue is quite literally devouring you.

you moan out his name loudly, just the way he likes it. sukuna grins against your wet folds, letting the tip of his tongue roll up and down your slit while his thick finger lazily stimulates your clitoris. “got a fuckin’ brat as a wife,” sukuna delivers a harsh slap against your sensitive cunt after cupping it with one big hand, “stay still, i said.”

you squeal at the rough contact. you attempt to listen to your husband, but your body doesn’t allow it. your sticky thighs keep shaking and your hips keep jerking upwards against his mouth. his wet tongue slobbering all over your pussy is a clear sign of just how much sukuna looks forward to coming home—to watch you beg for mercy when he goes too far.

“delicious,” sukuna pants as he dives deeper into your folds, burying his entire face against your cunt. he sniffs your scent and simultaneously enjoys the taste of your wet juices. you’re all he needs after a frustrating day of taking care of duties back to back.

one of his hands brushes against your lower abdomen to keep you pinned to the bed. you grab the wrist of that hand and hold onto it for support. sukuna groans at the sight of you trying so hard to not cum on spot from his actions.

he speeds up the movements of his tongue and his big hand squeezes your tummy a little in the meantime;

“i think i’ll go for a second round of dessert after this one, ey? what’d ya think? wanna let everyone know that you, your cunt and your whole body is all mine—so i’ll probably fuck ye so good y’re gonna be heard all ‘round the estate.”

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #sukuna smut #gojo x reader #toji x reader #sukuna x reader #geto x reader

13K notes · View notes