REMORSE
SUMMARY: He doesn't realize how valuable you are until he loses you.
Things could have been different. If he had stayed home, you would still be alive. You would still be alive…
''My love… p-please don’t go''
Gojo froze in his tracks, feeling your delicate arms wrap around his waist from behind. Despite himself, a small flicker of surprise coursed through him, momentarily halting his steps towards the door. Your trembling voice reached his ears, filled with desperation and a plea for him to stay.
"I-I will prepare a dinner for you, my love… p-please don’t go,” you whispered, your lips pressing softly against his back in a tender kiss.
For a brief moment, the gentle touch and your plea tugged at a minuscule fragment of buried empathy within him. However, he quickly squashed that flicker of compassion.
He twisted his body to face you, his expression turning cold and unyielding once again under his blindfold. He roughly pushed your arms away from his waist, forcing you to release her grip on him. The action was swift and unforgiving.
“Your feeble attempts to keep me won’t work, y/n.” he spat, his voice laced with cruel indifference. “I have no use for your pitiful displays of affection. I am leaving.”
He turned away from you, resolute in his decision. He regretted his words at the moment he saw the pain and sadness in your eyes. But he couldn’t show it, he couldn’t show any sign of weakness.
After all, he was the strongest
With a last glance, he walked towards the door and left you. As he crossed the threshold, his heart remained hardened, untouched by the anguish he left behind.
...
He was a terrible husband. He didn’t pay any attention to you. But he wanted to change that, so he bought you a bouquet to make it up to you, and today he was going to take you out to dinner. He was going to fix everything, you were going to be happy together.
“My sweet wifey~, I thought we could have dinner today, husband and wife–”
Upon entering the house, Gojo was met with an eerie silence that sent a chill down his spine. The door wide open, the lights on – everything seemed off. As he stepped further inside, his heart raced, confusion clouding his thoughts. The scent of carnage enveloped him, the heavy air thick with tension.
Then he found you.
Lying lifeless on the floor, your limbs twitching slightly as the waning moments of your life escaped from you. Blood pooled beneath you, the crimson liquid staining the once pristine floors with its haunting presence. A profound sorrow washed over him, accompanied by a wave of guilt – a bitter taste in his mouth.
The flowers he had intended to apologize with dropped from his grasp, the vibrant colors now tainted by the horrifying scene unfolding before his eyes. He watched in horror as you struggled for your last breaths, your fragile body betrayed by the curse that sought to end her life.
The irreversibility of the situation dawned on him at that moment - her fate was already sealed, your time running thin. Tears welled up in his eyes as realizations flooded his mind; regrets of his callous behavior, anger, and neglect came racing back and consumed his conscience.
If only he had stayed... if only he had paid attention.
Gojo fell to his knees beside you, reaching out tentatively to steady her limp form. “Y/N. Stay with me,” he pleaded, a foreign word in his vocabulary. “Please, don’t go.” His tears fell in torrents, landing beside hers on the muddied ground.
“Who. Who did this to you-”
His hands shook as he cradled you close, your warm breath steadily fading in his embrace. The pain of losing you was like a dagger piercing his heart, a relentless torture he could never escape.
What was the point? What was the point of being the strongest if he couldn’t even protect his wife?
Gojo stands before your grave, a solemn figure with his head bowed low. The air holds a heavy silence, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves as a gentle breeze caresses the surrounding trees. The weight of his loss rests heavily upon his shoulders, his heart burdened with a mix of grief and regret.
“Hey, it’s me again,” he murmurs, his voice choked with emotion as he addresses the earth beneath him. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I wanted to let you know… I’m doing my best, even though it feels impossible without you here.”
His fingers trace the engraved letters of your name on the tombstone, his touch both reverent and pained. Memories of your time together flood his mind, each a bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The weight of his remorse for not cherishing those moments to their fullest becomes evident in how his shoulders slump and his breath hitches.
“I miss you, more than words can express,” he admits, his voice breaking with raw vulnerability. “I wish I had realized sooner what you truly meant to me. I wish I had been a better husband and person for you… worthy of the love you had for me.”
His grip tightens on the flowers he brought, his knuckles turning white. He places them gently upon your grave, his gaze lingering upon the fading petals.
Tears glisten in his mismatched eyes, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “I love you, and I always will. I’m sorry I realized this so late. Wherever you are, I hope you’ve found peace. And just know… you’ll forever have a place in my heart.”
With a final, lingering look at your tombstone, he puts the bouquet on your tombstone and turns away.
He will live a lifetime with the pain of ruining the perfect future he could have had with you.
"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."
❤︎ ໋𓈒 in which satoru’s plans to steal you away from your girlfriend work, after a while.
warnings. 18+, smut, cunnilingus, p in v, satoru’s a smart manipulator, ooc, reader is bi and had a girlfriend, polygamy. based on this ask.
wc. 4.3k
A throuple. A polyamorous relationship. Not once in your life had you ever imagined yourself in one.
You’ve been with your girlfriend for a while now, and she’s wonderful—steady, kind, patient. You’ll admit that.
But a part of you has always yearned for something else. The kind of love that feels all-consuming. A man’s presence—protective, overwhelming, the low timbre of his voice settling deep in your bones, large, calloused hands engulfing yours, that brand of devotion you only ever see in movies.
Then Gojo Satoru waltzes into your life and tilts your world off its axis.
He’s thrilling, all spark and adrenaline. Just being near him sends a rush through your veins. Those striking blue eyes pull you in, make your head spin before you can even think.
It starts as a friendship.
You meet him at a bar, introduced through a mutual friend—Shoko Ieiri, who, for the record, is the human embodiment of lesbian energy. At first, you hang out in a group, once or twice. Then, somehow, it becomes a daily thing. Eventually, you’re comfortable enough to start meeting up with him alone.
“Trust me, you should really try the taro-flavored one,” he says, sliding the boba ice cream toward you with an easy smile. “I’m a sugar expert. And sugar varies, y’know?”
You hug your torso, lips quirking. “I know it tastes good. My girlfriend likes it.”
Satoru stills. The word hangs between you, and for a fraction of a second, his smile falters—so subtly you almost miss it.
Then, his expression smooths out, his interest sharpening into something even keener.
“Girlfriend?” he repeats, slow, as if tasting the word.
You nod, oblivious to the calculations running through his mind. “Mhm! I’ll bring her next time. You can meet her.”
A million possibilities unfold in his head, different ways this could go, all of them leading to the same outcome. Because he wants you—pronto.
His fingers graze the ends of your hair, his smile going languid, lazy.
“That,” he murmurs, tilting his head, “would be interesting.”
You didn’t think much about that interaction with Satoru at the time.
When you finally brought your girlfriend out to meet your friend, the connection between the three of you was instant—undeniable. Before you knew it, you had become a trio.
Satoru was always around, whether at your place or taking you both out. He spoiled you endlessly, never hesitating to drop money on gifts, meals, or spontaneous trips. He was the perfect masculine presence—charming, dependable, larger than life. Neither of you questioned it. Not at first.
You had no idea there was a motive behind it. Neither did she.
Then, one night, he brought it up.
“You know,” he starts, casual, almost offhanded. “We could just—make this a thing.”
You blink.
“Huh?” you mutter, sitting cross-legged, leaning back on your arms. Beside you, your girlfriend’s brows knit together.
Satoru swallows—an act, you realize later. He stares at both of you with a glassy, hopeful gaze, playing it up just enough to seem sincere but not too eager.
“I like you both,” he says. “So, if you’d like… I mean, I won’t take it personally if you say no—”
“Yes.”
The word leaves your lips before you can think, your back straightening as you nod.
Your girlfriend turns to you, eyes wide. But when you meet her gaze—soft, certain—she understands.
“…Yes,” she echoes.
Satoru smiles, slow and knowing. Then he stands smoothly, gathering you both into his arms—his grip just a little tighter around you.
It was a slow burn—he did think your girlfriend was cute, but you? You were everything. He could already picture it: kids, a settled life with you, lounging together in his clan’s estate. You, as his madam.
But he was patient. He took his sweet time, gradually pulling you further away from her without making it too obvious. It started small—sitting with you more often than she did, attending to every little need you had, hanging on to your every word. Then, the gifts.
“What’s all this?” you laugh softly, staring at the orange boxes with their fancy ribbons, the velvet-lined cases. You’d never been gifted something so luxurious before.
“They’re yours, honey.” He smiles, genuine, his heart pounding beneath his chest. “I picked everything based on… what you like.”
Your heart soars, your lips curling into a smile as you hug him tightly. “I love you. Thank you.”
Satoru exhales through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut in a rare moment of vulnerability. “Mmm, I love you more,” he murmurs, his voice thick with devotion. He feels your eyes drift around, searching for something else.
His brow furrows. “I got her something too, don’t worry. It’s in her bedroom. When she’s back, I’ll give it to her.”
You nod, your smile warm, though your gaze lingers on the gifts in your lap. Part of you wonders—does she get the same? You assume she does. After all, Satoru’s generous.
He is, but only because he knows exactly what he’s doing. The gift for her? A simple diamond tennis necklace—barely a dent in his pocket. Not that it matters. This is all part of the plan.
It’s been going on for months—slowly, almost imperceptibly, Satoru has worked his way into your life, taking more of your attention, making you feel more at home with him than with your girlfriend. At first, it was subtle—the way he’d help you with everything, anticipate your needs before you even voiced them. But now, you’re beginning to notice the gap widening, the emotional distance growing between you and her.
Your girlfriend is becoming… strange.
She picks fights over the smallest things now—dirty dishes left in the sink, the couch cushion being out of place, your clothes tossed on the floor. It’s like every moment is an argument waiting to happen. Her moods shift at the drop of a hat. “I’m not in the mood,” she sighs. “I don’t feel like it today.” Even her complaints about Satoru—small, unimportant things—start to irritate you.
Satoru, on the other hand, never complains. He’s there when you need him, always helpful, always attentive. He’s not the one causing problems, and he never starts a fight. Everything he does seems to smooth over the tension.
But today… Today something shifts. Satoru’s patience snaps.
You’re out running errands, leaving Satoru and your girlfriend alone in the house. When you return, you find Satoru cornering her in the hallway. His face is expressionless, but there’s an undeniable hardness in his eyes.
“Honey,” Satoru says, his voice smooth, but with an edge that cuts through the air. His gaze never wavers from hers. “We need to talk.”
Your girlfriend glares at him, exhausted. “What now?” Her tone is laced with resentment.
“You’ve been really fucking hard on her lately,” Satoru continues, his voice deceptively gentle. He crosses his arms over his chest, his posture almost predatory. “What’s going on with you?”
“Hard on her?” she scoffs, her eyes flashing with anger. “Oh, so now you’re playing the ‘knight in shining armor,’ huh? Tell me, why does everything have to revolve around you two, huh?”
Satoru’s lips curl into a tight, almost amused smile. He leans in, his eyes narrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”
She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “You’re always together. It’s like I’m invisible! It’s like I wasn’t even your girlfriend too— she was my girlfriend first! why are you just… swooping in like im not here?!” Her voice cracks with frustration, but her hands ball into fists at her sides.
Satoru tilts his head, his expression cool and controlled. “You’re being irrational,” he says, his tone deceptively soft. “Maybe if you treated her better, she wouldn’t feel like she has to pull away from you.”
Her eyes widen, disbelief flashing across her face. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”
Satoru doesn’t flinch. His gaze hardens. “I said maybe you should stop acting like a bitch towards her,” he states with calm finality.
Her face pales, and for a moment, she looks like she might explode. “Excuse me?” she whispers, barely holding back her fury. “You think you can talk to me like that? You think you can just come in here, into our relationship, and tell me how I should act?”
Satoru’s smile remains unchanged. “I’m not telling you what to do, but you’re making things difficult for her. You’re pushing her away, and it’s your fault.”
“You have an ulterior motive, don’t you?” she spits, glaring at him. “You’ve been plotting this from the start. You want her all to yourself.”
Satoru raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “Is that what you think? Really?” He takes a step closer to her, his presence overwhelming. “You’re the one who’s been making it hard for her, not me. But if you’re too blind to see that, then that’s your problem.”
She shakes her head, muttering under her breath. “I think you’ve already made up your mind, haven’t you?”
Satoru’s smile widens. “Maybe I have.” His eyes flick to the door, a silent invitation for her to leave, to walk away. “But you know what? That’s your choice.” He doesn’t wait for her to respond before he turns, walking away like he’s won.
Your girlfriend stands there, her body trembling with anger and frustration. She breathes heavily, looking at the door, before storming out without another word.
You return home, bags in hand, and freeze at the sight of your girlfriend standing outside. Her expression is clouded, her shoulders hunched, and she looks as though she’s just been torn apart.
“Hey… Are you okay?” you ask softly, approaching her, your voice filled with concern.
Her eyes flash with irritation. “Are you seriously asking me that?” she spits, shaking her head in disbelief. “You really don’t see it, do you? You’ve been so wrapped up in him, in Satoru, that you haven’t even noticed me. I’m right here, but you don’t care. You don’t even fucking care anymore.”
Your heart sinks, confusion and frustration rising. “That’s not true. I’ve been trying—”
“No! Don’t give me that!” she snaps, her voice raw with emotion. “You’ve been all about him. He’s always there, always helping, always doing for you. What about me? What the fuck do I get?”
Your eyes widen as the weight of her words settles in. “That’s not fair. You know how much I care about you.”
“Do I? Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it,” she sneers, taking a step back. “It’s like you’ve forgotten everything. Like I’m just the other option, the one who gets pushed aside because you want him. You think I don’t see that?”
“Don’t talk like that,” you say, your voice wavering, emotions thick in your throat. “I’m not choosing anyone. I never wanted this to happen.”
“No, you didn’t,” she mocks. “But it’s happening anyway. Because you don’t see it. You don’t see me anymore.”
Tears spring to your eyes, but you blink them away, fighting back the lump in your throat. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“Well, you are.” Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. “You’ve already hurt me.”
Before you can respond, she spins on her heel and storms away, leaving you standing there, feeling the weight of her words settle heavily on your chest.
Inside, Satoru watches from the window, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk as he watches the scene unfold.
You rush inside, groceries in your arms, your mind a whirlwind of confusion and emotion. The door slams shut behind you with a soft thud, but the weight in your chest feels heavier than anything you’ve ever carried. You fight to keep the tears at bay, but they burn at the edges of your vision.
Before you even reach the kitchen, Satoru is there—appearing as though he was waiting just for you. His hands are quick, steady, and gentle as he takes the groceries from your hands, setting them down on the foyer table with a careful precision. His eyes meet yours, searching for the storm brewing in them.
You don’t even have a chance to respond before his arms are around you, pulling you into his warmth.
“My heart, come here.” His voice is a soothing whisper, an easy contrast to the fury that still bubbles beneath your skin.
You crumble against him, the dam breaking, and sobs rack your body uncontrollably. It’s as if all the frustration, all the pain, all the love you’ve been withholding explodes at once. His chest rises and falls beneath your cheek, a steady presence, even as your body trembles with the weight of everything that’s happened.
“She’s being fucking unfair!” you choke out between ragged breaths, the words barely making it past the tightness in your throat.
Satoru doesn’t hesitate. His hand brushes through your hair, slow and gentle, as though each stroke is meant to calm the storm inside you. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, his own breath steady and warm against your skin.
“I know.” His voice is soft, tender in a way that makes your heart twist. “She’s not seeing it, baby. She doesn’t see how much you’re doing, how much you care.” He holds you tighter, his grip firm yet comforting. “But I do.”
You pull back just slightly, enough to look up at him. His eyes are sharp, a mixture of understanding and something darker, something protective. He wipes away the remnants of your tears with his thumb, his gaze never leaving your face.
“She’s pushing me away, Satoru. I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know how to make her understand,” you whisper, voice raw, the weight of it all crashing down on you again.
His smile is small, but it holds a certain promise in it—a promise that makes your chest tighten and your heart race. “Don’t worry about that. Let me handle it.”
You open your mouth to protest, but the words get stuck. There’s something in the way he says it, something confident and unwavering. His hand moves down your back, his fingers brushing against your spine in a way that sends a ripple of warmth through your body.
“I’ll fix this, okay?” he murmurs, eyes darkening just slightly. “She’s not going to ruin what we’ve built. Not when we’re this close. You and me… we’re untouchable.”
You want to say something, to question him, but the sincerity in his voice and the way he holds you makes it hard to think of anything but him, anything but this—the safety, the comfort, the feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything could be okay again.
The thought makes you dizzy. And in the quiet of his embrace, you let yourself be swept away by the weight of his devotion.
The three of you sit on the bed, the TV playing in the background, but the quiet tension in the room thickens with every passing second. Satoru’s arm is wrapped around you, pulling you closer, while your girlfriend watches, her hand inching toward his thigh.
Satoru notices first, his eyes flicking to her before he shifts slightly, pulling you into him even more. “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” he murmurs, voice low and commanding. His touch is steady, reassuring, as if to say it’s always been you, not her.
Your girlfriend hesitates, her fingers brushing his chest, but Satoru doesn’t react. Instead, his lips find your neck, kissing you softly, purposefully ignoring her advances. Her frustration is palpable, but she pushes forward, her fingers finding their way to his lap. She leans in to kiss him.
Satoru pulls away slightly, the edge in his voice sharp as he grabs her wrist. “Not yet,” he warns, his gaze unwavering. His attention shifts back to you, his lips capturing yours in a possessive kiss. Your hands tug at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin, to drown in him.
Your girlfriend, still sitting beside you, looks lost. She reaches again, trying to touch him, but Satoru doesn’t let her. With one hand still on you, his other gently pushes her back. “I said no,” he repeats, his voice dark with an authority that leaves no room for doubt.
You moan as Satoru’s hand slides between your legs, slipping under your clothes to find you already wet for him. He takes his time, teasing you, while your girlfriend stares, her breath catching in frustration.
The more Satoru touches you, the more your body responds. His fingers slide inside, slow at first, but he picks up the pace, bringing you to the edge. You can barely keep your composure, his lips never leaving your skin, his movements relentless.
And then, without warning, your girlfriend’s gaze shifts—no longer hungry with desire, but with a mixture of confusion and jealousy. Satoru’s full attention is on you, and he isn’t even looking at her. She’s no longer part of this equation.
As Satoru picks up speed, his breath ragged in your ear, you come apart under his touch, body trembling, desperate for more. He pushes deeper, claiming you fully, making it clear that you belong to him.
The room falls silent except for the sound of your breathless moans and Satoru’s steady pace. Your girlfriend sits motionless, helplessly watching as the last pieces of her place in this dynamic crumble.
Satoru wastes no time, maneuvering you onto your back on the bed. His hands are rough, skilled, as he strips you of your clothes with an urgency that matches the fire in his eyes. He kisses his way down your body, his lips burning trails on your skin as he works his way lower, lower, lower.
“Look at these fuckin’ tits,” he growls, his voice low and thick with desire as he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking greedily. The sensation makes you gasp, your body arching up involuntarily. You can feel his knee pressing against your cunt, the heat of him seeping into you, sending electric shocks of anticipation through your veins.
Your girlfriend, watching from the edge of the bed, stays silent, her eyes narrowed, hands clenched into fists. She’s hot and bothered, her body reacting despite the anger twisting in her chest. She’s fed up with the whole situation—tired of being the afterthought. She hates the way Satoru devours you, but she can’t tear her eyes away.
“Ng—Satoru…” you moan softly, your breath hitching as his mouth works its magic, sucking your nipple until it’s slick and swollen. His lips leave your skin with a soft, wet pop as he shifts his attention lower, his knee pressing harder against you, reminding you of how he owns every inch of your body.
He lifts your legs, spreading them wide as he moves between them, his eyes dark with intent. “Fuck,” you yelp as he finally lowers his mouth to your cunt, his lips and tongue finding your clit with practiced ease. His tongue flicks at your sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking it into his mouth as he hums with approval, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure straight to your core.
“Pussy’s all mine,” he mutters into your heat, his voice muffled as his tongue works relentlessly. You can barely process the words as your hips begin to squirm under the relentless pressure, his grip locking you in place. Your feet flail, trying to gain some sort of control, but Satoru has you right where he wants you—completely at his mercy.
“Sat—Satoru—” you pant, your body trembling, feeling the tension coil tighter in your stomach. His tongue is relentless, his mouth working you down to the bone, and you’re losing yourself to him.
“Down, kitty,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing despite the intensity of his actions. “Let me eat.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the commanding tone making your heart race even faster.
Your hands dig into the sheets, fingers curling tightly as his mouth continues to devour you. Every flick of his tongue, every gentle suck of his lips, drives you closer to the edge, and all you can do is surrender to the pleasure. His grip on your hips tightens, ensuring you stay locked in place, and you feel your body trembling, the first waves of your orgasm crashing over you.
As you’re lost in the pleasure, you catch a glimpse of your girlfriend—her expression a mixture of frustration and arousal, her eyes dark with something you can’t quite place. The tension in the room shifts, the air thick with everything unspoken. But Satoru’s focus is entirely on you, making it clear who truly holds his attention.
You’re pulled back from the edge, gasping for breath as Satoru pulls away, his lips glistening, his eyes wild with hunger. He looks up at you, his face smug but tender, a twisted combination of possessiveness and affection. “Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with satisfaction.
Your girlfriend, still sitting on the edge of the bed, watches, her chest heaving with a mix of frustration and desire. But she says nothing, the distance between the three of you growing ever wider.
Satoru’s movements slow for a moment as he looks down at you, his dark eyes gleaming with possessiveness and hunger. His thumb traces your bottom lip, tugging it gently as a lazy smile spreads across his face.
“You look so fuckin’ beautiful when you’re helpless like this,” he mutters, his voice dark and gravelly. “Can’t get enough of that sweet little pussy of yours.” He groans, his hips rolling slightly, teasing you just enough to make your body twitch. “You’re all mine, baby. No one else gets to feel this.”
You whimper beneath him, your hands fisting the sheets as his words make your core tighten with need. Satoru lowers himself, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks again, his voice dripping with desire.
“Say it,” he commands, his breath hot against your skin. “Say you’re mine. Tell me you love how I fuck you like this.”
“I’m yours,” you breathe out, your voice a mix of desperation and pleasure. “I love it, Satoru—fuck, I love how you make me feel.”
He chuckles low in his throat, a wicked grin curling on his lips. “Good girl,” he purrs. “So fucking perfect for me. No one’s ever gonna make you feel like I do, not even your girlfriend. You’re mine, and you know it, don’t you?”
You nod frantically, your hips lifting to meet his thrusts, feeling him fill you completely. His words sink deep into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of pleasure. “Yes, Satoru… only you…”
“Damn right,” he growls, his thrusts growing faster, more brutal. “I’m the one who makes you come apart, not her. Every single inch of you belongs to me now. You’ll never be able to leave me after this, baby.”
His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in as he pulls you against him with each powerful thrust. He watches you with rapt attention, his eyes devouring you as you squirm beneath him, your body moving in rhythm with his. He groans, the sound deep and throaty as he leans down to kiss you again, hungry and demanding.
“You wanna come again, huh?” Satoru whispers, his lips brushing against yours. “You can’t get enough of me, can you? I know you’re close… you’re so fucking tight around me. You love how deep I fuck you, don’t you?”
“Y-yes!” you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Please, Satoru, I need you… need more.”
His eyes flash with satisfaction. “I’ll give you more, baby. I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll forget your own name.”
He picks up the pace, slamming into you relentlessly, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. “Tell me how badly you want it. Tell me you want me to fuck you raw.”
“I want it so bad,” you moan, your body trembling as you feel your orgasm build. “I want you to make me yours, Satoru. I want everything.”
With that, he groans, his thrusts growing even more intense as he drives into you harder, faster, pushing you into a state of pure bliss. “That’s it, baby,” he growls, “Come for me. Let me feel how fucking tight you are around me.”
The wave of pleasure crashes over you, your body spasming as you scream his name. Satoru follows close behind, his grip on you tightening as he fucks you through your orgasm, his own release flooding you as he grits his teeth in satisfaction.
You feel yourself being gently lifted, your body weightless in his strong, warm arms, and you’re dizzy from the overwhelming sensations of pleasure. Satoru moves you up the bed effortlessly, his chest pressed to yours as he cradles you in his embrace. His lips brush your temple, soft and tender, as he whispers, “Let’s stay like this for a while. I’ll clean you up and feed you in a bit, my love.”
You nod, feeling a wave of contentment wash over you, your body still humming from the intensity of everything. The soft comfort of his touch is like a balm for your overstimulated body, and you lean into him, closing your eyes for a brief moment.
But then, your gaze shifts, and you look around the room, your mind catching up with the reality of the situation.
“Where’s—”
“Gone.” Satoru whispers, his voice low and soothing as his lips press against your neck. His arms tighten around you, drawing you closer. You can feel his steady breath against your skin, and for a moment, everything feels impossibly right.
Your heart flutters in your chest, and you hug him tighter, the full weight of his words sinking in. Gone. It’s just you and him now.
“Finally,” he breathes, his voice soft but full of satisfaction.
for the anon that requested this, i hope its up to your liking and expectations. :) tried my best. pls let me know what you think through the inbox 🤍
© All Rights Reserved mymoonisgrey
Can we have a continuation of the fatherhood oneshot with Odysseus 😇 maybe Telemachus mildly complaining/embarrassed that his dad immediately got his mom pregnant but at the same time the new member of the family seems to really brighten up the palace more? i just think it's cute and im a sucker of Odysseus (and also Penelope 🫶)
A/n: YES! ( i have been hoping someone would ask me too!) I too love them both (im gonna have to write something for Penelope too cause she deserves it)
Part two too this fic
But yay! More Dad! Odysseus!
Oc used- Leander being the reader's uncle.
Telemachus sighed deeply, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the palace’s stone pillars, watching the scene before him with a mixture of fondness and pure exasperation.
The palace had always been lively, but lately?
It had become utter chaos.
Because once again—his father had gotten you, his dear mother pregnant.
And gods help him—why did no one else find this concerning?!
“I don’t understand,” Telemachus muttered to Leander his uncle,who stood beside him, looking equally amused and unimpressed.
“The man comes home after twenty years, and the first thing he does is immediately get my mother pregnant.”
Leander your brother snorted.
“And then, before the twins can even walk properly—” Telemachus continued, waving his hands toward his heavily pregnant mother, who was currently laughing at something Odysseus whispered into your ear—
“—he does it AGAIN.”
Leander grinned, shaking his head. “I mean, what did you expect? Have you met your father?”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
Despite his complaints, Telemachus couldn’t deny that the palace had changed.
There was something warmer now, something brighter.
For so long, you had been waiting, longing, praying for his father’s return.
For so long, the halls had been quiet, empty, aching for something missing.
For years he had to deal with the suitor's harassing you, had to stomach the vile things they've said
But now?
Now, there was laughter again.
Now, there were children’s giggles echoing through the corridors.
Now, there was his father—actually home...safe.
And, despite his eternal suffering over his parents’ inability to keep their hands off each other—
Telemachus liked it.
Even if it meant more siblings to babysit.
And even if it meant that his Uncle Leander would never stop teasing him about it.
Telemachus watched as his father gently placed a kiss on your forehead, his hand resting over your belly.
He groaned, covering his face with his hands.
“I’m going to have so many siblings.”
Leander patted his shoulder.
“Better you than me.”
Telemachus let out a long, dramatic sigh.
And yet—even as he complained, he was smiling.
Because deep down, he always wanted to be a big brother.
passenger princess goes vroom vroom (or not)
incl: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna you want to drive after your husband makes a pit stop.
Gojo
"remember when"
Geto
"one last chance"
Nanami
"forever passenger princess"
Choso
"hungry man"
Toji
"hell no"
Sukuna
"lol"
*ೃ༄ Lovesick!
synopsis: random things jjk men do when they’re lovesick!
features: gojo, megumi, yuji, nanami, choso, takuma, toji
Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader Word Count: 405 Content: Fluff, a little suggestive but it's not smut, Reader is Yuji's Aunt (she's his mom's sister) Tuna-Tober 2024 Masterlist <- check out the other fics posted this month!
A/N: Once again I wrote this in about 20 minutes so it's definitely not perfect. That being said this is a small little taste of a series that I'm working on and want to post soon (I just want to have most of the fic written out before I start posting it)! Also this is from the backup prompt list of Tuna-Tober. Enjoy!!
“Hey Auntie, I had a quest-”
“YUJI! What a surprise!!” THUNK! You come out of your bedroom, slamming the door shut and straightening out your teaching uniform.
Yuji looks at you with confusion, his hand resting on his chin, eyes squinting like he’s in deep thought. You know what’s really going on in his head is just radio silence. You shake your head to avoid laughing at how serious he looks.
You fix your hair, “What is it hon?”
“I was just wondering if you would spar with me, but if you’re busy-?”
“I’m not busy at all, just um. . .” You brush off stray dust off your skirt, “I was just going for my usual run and I sensed you walking towards my room and I figured I’d save you the trouble of finding me.” You smile at him, hoping that would be convincing enough.
He breaks his concentration and gives you a smile back, “That’s really thoughtful of you Auntie.”
“Well, I can meet you at the gym in about 15 minutes. Let me get into something more appropriate for sparring.”
“Okay I’ll see you in a bit then!” He salutes at you as you lead him out of your room. Once he’s out of your sight you sigh and shut the door. Your bedroom door slowly opens as Gojo peaks his head out.
“Well?”
“He bought it.”
“Seriously?” Gojo fully opens the door, shirt fully off and his blindfold askew.
“We only have 10 minutes though,” You start unbuttoning the top of your uniform, walking up to Gojo.
“I seem to remember someone saying she’ll meet Yuji in 15~” He leans down and starts leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.
You try to push him away, your resolve weakening, “10 minutes Gojo.”
He works his way back up your neck and gives you a quick kiss on your lips, “15.”
You give him a look as he starts helping you undress, “10.”
He doesn’t stop smiling as he kisses you again, “15.”
“10.” You breathe out once he pulls away. You tug his blindfold off and push him towards your bed.
He reaches out to you, “You’re not winning this fight sweetheart~”
“Five of your minutes just ticked away~” You put your hand in his and he immediately pulls you into the bed with him.
“And that leaves us with 10 minutes, it’s settled then. Glad we could figure this out.”
Tutorial on how to defeat a curse
✨ Reader letting their intrusive thoughts win Edition✨
Yuji, being verbally attacked by Sukuna: Shut up already!
Reader, holding a coke: Yuji
Yuji: Huh?
Reader, shaking the can of coke like a maraca: hold still
Yuji: Wha-
Reader, grabs his face and proceeds to chug the shaked coke on the visible mouth on Yuji's cheek till its empty: there we go
Yuji, gags: i can taste it!
Sukuna, currently unresponsive:
Reader: You see that people? That's how easy it is
This but with a can of sprite or anything that could put this bastard into a coma.
The moment sukuna opens his mouth, you’ve already shoved a ghost chilli pepper into his mouth, and all of a sudden the almighty king of curses is now your bitch considering how quickly he’s kneeling over in front of you.
Poor yuji, while thankful for you shutting sukuna up, is terrified of what else you’ll do just to get what you want. Utter silence.
Pepper spray his eye? Absolutely. No doubt about it have you sprayed pepper spray into his eye on multiple occasions because you thought he was looking at you funny.
Sour sweets such as warheads? Never have you seen sukuna shrivel up like a prune as fast as you have. Hell! You’ve even used sparking water to subdue him on several occasions also.
Still to this day sukuna wonders why people drink such utter shit as sparking water.
Needles to say he chats shit when you’re not in sight, not because he’s afraid of you’ll torture him with something else, defiantly not…👀
Had a thought: reader has a hand-print bruise on their arm — like they stumbled and were caught or pulled out of the way of a curse or smth and the helper accidentally left a bruise when they grabbed reader. Jjk men see it b4 reader can / thinks to tell them so they just see a clearly-handprint bruise with zero context 🙃
Tags: Drabble, Fluff, JJK men getting angry, JJK men getting protective 🫦, smut (Suguru’s, Choso’s, and kinda Sukuna’s), dark content on Mahito’s, mdni
Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso, Toji, Sukuna, Mahito
SATORU
You had forgotten it even happened. Silly, clumsy you — nearly falling while exiting the subway onto the station platform. Thankfully, that good samaritan was right behind you.
His hand clasped onto your upper arm tightly as he pulled you back up to your feet to find your balance. You didn’t even give it much thought-! You thanked him and went on about your day.
Satoru’s six eyes can immediately spot the bruise before you’ve even taken off your coat after getting home.
“Baby —“ Satoru’s voice was bone chilling when he spoke. He’s normally got such a happy tone, but when he uses that baritone that comes out during fights, you’re frozen out of fear.
“Wha..?” You weren’t even able to get your words out before Satoru has your arm up in the air. His eyes wandering over the bruise that was wrapped around your upper arm.
“Who the fuck touched you?” His heart is slamming into his ribcage. He doesn’t know what happened, but he knew enough. You were hurt, and he wasn’t there to protect you.
He wishes he could extend his infinity out to you at all times, but even he has limits unfortunately.
“Satoru- My arm-“ You whine while your lofty boyfriend with his abnormally long limbs is nearly holding you up by your wrist. You looked pitiful — dangling from his grip.
“Who.” He demands again, and those stormy blue eyes meet yours. His mind is racing — thinking of who he’s going to kill. Will he snuff them out like a cigarette with his infinity? Or maybe he blow a whole in them with hollow purple. Maybe he could figure out a new technique to rip them in half on an atomic level.
“It was an accident!” You cry as you try to pull your arm aways from his unrelenting grip. “I was about to fall off the subway, and this guy grabbed me so I didn’t fall and break my neck.”
Satoru’s face stays cold, and his eyes look back at the obvious handprint bruise on your arm. Judging by the way it’s awkwardly positioned, he knows you’re telling the truth.
“Oh! Well baby, why didn’t you just say that?” Your entirely too happy boyfriend is immediately back with a coy grin as if he wasn’t just fantasizing about murder. “You got to be more careful when getting off the subway, silly goose.” His finger lightly thump you on the forehead.
SUGURU
You’ve always been so clumsy your entire life: tripping over your own feet, bumping into the corners of tables and walls, accidentally stubbing your toe, the list goes on…
You were racing down the broken escalator at the mall to try to get to your favorite store before it closed for the day. You were just so focused on getting to your destination that you weren’t paying attention to ahead of you.
You barrel straight into this guy who miraculously grabs onto you and the railing before both of you take a nasty fall. The two of you pant in each other’s arms for just a moment before you’re backing away — professing your deepest apologies for not being more careful. The guy just awkwardly smiles and waves you on, knowing you were probably trying to get to a specific store.
You didn’t even think about the little incident afterwards. You have so many “near misses” in a day that you just completely black them out.
Suguru’s lips are clasped to your neck, giving you sloppy kisses right on the sweet spot of your neck.
“Fuuuck, pretty girl… can never get tired of this pussy.” He groans softly into your ear. Both of you are so lost in each other, feeling your essences mix with each time his massive cock slips into your clammy entrance. You’re practically sucking him in at this point — greedyyy.
“Sugu- Ah~!” You’re breathy as your hand reaches up to clasp the pillow behind you. The way your pussy flutters around him as you’re nth orgasm is about to take over has him nearly seeing stars.
Nearly.
His eyes normally focus on you while he fucks you until you’re nothing more than a puddle in his arms, but right now, that damn bruise has his attention.
“What fucking monkey touched you?” He asks in a low growl before he’s pinning both your arms above your head. He slips his cock out of you — eliciting a frustrated whine from edging you.
His eyes are too busy scoping out the rest of your body. How did he miss the fresh bruise that was so blatantly displayed on your arm.
“Sugu..” You whine — still mindless and cockdrunk. Your thighs part as you try to seduce him back between your legs.
“Hey.” He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes. “I need my girlfriend right now — not my slut. Who touched you?”
“What are you talkin’ about?” You lazily whine as you look over towards your arm, and you think for a moment of how the bruise must’ve gotten there..
“Which fucking monkey touched you?” He grits again. His temper is only building. How were you unable to remember who touched you?
“Hmm.. oh! I was running down those broken escalators at the mall, and I nearly sent me and this guy down the entire flight. Thankfully, he was able to grab us both.” You’re finally able to recount the memory to Geto.
Your poor stressed boyfriend pinches the bridge of his nose. He instantly knows that you’re telling the truth because this is just so damn like you.
“What have I told you about being aware of your surroundings? Now you’re going to make me have to punish you.”
Great! Now you’re not getting to finish at all tonight! :(
NANAMI
It was another normal Sunday evening in your home. The lights were turned down low, and the curtains were drawn so the golden hour sun could pool into the kitchen and dining room. You and Ken were listening to your playlist while cooking dinner together.
Cooking dinner with Nanami wasn’t like some normal, ordinary task. Cooking with him was almost as intimate as having sex with him — the way his hands so carefully massaged into your hips. Your back was pressed flush against his toned chest, and his chin was either resting on yours or resting on your shoulder.
He wasn’t dead weight either. Nanami could cook his ass off. You were the one who needed the extra help, so right now, Nanami was guiding your hands on how to perfectly and evenly chop zucchini.
His eyes grazed over your hands, taking in your form to see if he needed to correct you in any way. That’s when he saw the bruise peaking out from underneath your shirt sleeve.
Nanami’s hand is quick, and he swiftly disarms you so you don’t accidentally cut yourself before he tugs your arm sleeve. His usually calm face slowly twisted into a scowl.
“Who did that to you?” He asks lowly with an intimidating glare. Of course, he’s not mad at you, but he is mad that someone touched his wife.
“What…?” You ask with a small pout, not knowing what he was talking about in the slightest. You had clearly forgotten about that nice stranger who pulled you back onto the sidewalk when a car decided to ignore the pedestrian walking symbol. They had saved your life.
“The name of the person who grabbed you.” Nanami demands as he gestures to your marked up wrist. “Now.”
“I- wait, Ken… That’s not what it looks like…” You try to explain with a small frown.
“Then please, do tell me what it is before I go find them for myself.”
When you explained to him that the person who grabbed you actually saved you from severe injury, Nanami let out a sigh — partially of relief and partially of stress.
He brings your wrist up to his mouth before he places light kisses around the bruise. “You have to be more careful, darling… I need you here with me.”
CHOSO
Yuji was the one to grab you harshly and pull you back, creating that nasty bruise on your arm. He really didn’t mean to grab you so hard!! He just forgets his superhuman strength sometimes.
You were about to run into someone while at the school. Yuji was just trying to be a good brother-in-law and protect you. He was nearly in tears when he saw the huge handprint on your arm.
“Please don’t tell Choso. He’ll kill me if he finds out! Please! Say you swear!” He pleads as he clasps his hands together and grovels at your feet.
You tried reassuring him that his brother wasn’t going to kill him, but Yuji wouldn’t rest until you promised not to tell.
“Hi baby.” Choso greets you as usual, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple as he casually strolls towards the bathroom to shower. He’s glistening with sweat from training with Yuki and Todo all day.
“Mm! Wait for me!” You call out, trailing behind him like a horny dog (it’s okay girl me too). Choso happily waits for you in the shower. His dark hair comes down to his shoulders as he lets his hair down and steps into the hot water, immediately rinsing his body of the filth and grime.
“Missed you, baby.” He hums as he slowly corners you against the shower wall. His hand gently cups your chin to press a passionate kiss to your lips.
You softly giggle as you feel something already poking at your leg. “So sensitive~” You tease as you go to wrap your hand around his length.
Choso quickly grabs your arm, going to pin it above your head. He wanted to touch you first. You’re always taking care of him. He wanted to return the favor.
When you softly hiss in response due to him pressing on your bruise, he freezes. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?”
“No- no, you did nothing.” You try to reassure him with a wave of your hands. Your bruise catches his eye.
“Did I- Did I do that?” He immediately asks as he takes your arm and cradles it gently into his oversized hands. His face slowly shifts to a guilty pout.
Your eyes widen as you realize your poor boyfriend doesn’t understand the concept of human bruising. He truly thinks he grabbed you so hard that your skin immediately started to bruise.
“No, nonono, baby, you didn’t do that. ‘s okay.” You go to reassure him, gently holding your hand to his cheek, brushing your thumb over the small tattoos under his eyes.
“Then… who did?” His voice shifts to a less panicked one, and his gaze hardens slightly.
Your heart skips a beat as you realize just how quickly he can turn on that more dominant, powerful side of him. “Uh.. well.. it was an accident.. We shouldn’t go on a witch hunt or anything like that…”
“Right. Who grabbed you so hard that they left a mark on you?” He doesn’t relent, towering over you with such an unamused gaze. His eyes are angry while staring at you.
“You have to promise me you won’t hurt him, Cho. It was really an accident. He was trying to save me.”
Choso stays quiet. He’s learned not to make promises that he can’t keep, and all of his thoughts are about how he was going to hurt this mysterious guy who laid a hand on you.
“Choso… It was Yuji. He was trying to keep me from running into somebody! He didn’t mean to hurt me-“
Your boyfriend’s face shifts to one of surprise. He didn’t expect Yuji to be the culprit of the bruise on your arm. His eyes flick over to the bruise, and he lets out a hefty sigh.
“Sometimes… older brothers have to be the one to teach hard lessons…”
“Choso, it was an accident.”
TOJI
“Mmm.. shit…” Toji hums before he goes in for another bite. You watch him with a playful gaze. He always gets so hungry after a completed hit, and when the job takes more than one day, he misses your cooking almost as much as he misses you.
“Toji, slow down. No one’s going to take your food from you.” You gently chide with a laugh. Little three-year-old Megumi is in his high chair, eating like an animal because he’s mimicking daddy.
You’re happy that your husband appreciates your cooking because you did nearly die while trying to get the ingredients to make this stupid dinner.
You were in the parking lot of the grocery store with Megumi in your arms, and while walking towards the store’s entrance, a car nearly backed over you and the small child in your arms.
Thankfully, a stranger was behind you, and he was fast enough to yank you and Megumi back away from the car. It was honestly a miracle that you and Megumi made it completely unscathed.
Well, almost unscathed. You did have a pretty nasty bruise on your hip where the stranger grabbed you with such strength.
“Look at what kind of table manners you’re teaching your son.” You continue on while wiping Megumi’s face clean with a baby wipe. The small child whines and tries to break free from your grasp.
“Can’t help it, doll. Your cooking’s too good.” Toji finally lifts his head up from his plate, and with almost lazer focus, he immediately notices the bruise on your hip due to your shirt hiking up a bit since you’re bent over dealing with Megumi.
“What the fuck happened?” He immediately asks, gesturing his fork towards the bruise on your hip. “Did some fuck touch you?”
You look at him with a hint of confusion for a second, but as soon as you look down and see the bruise, you immediately remember the event that transpired earlier today.
“I-“
You don’t even get the next word out before Toji’s on you, lifting your shirt up to see the perfectly drawn out handprint bruised into your pretty skin. The scar on his lips twitch in frustration, and your heart begins to stutter — understanding exactly what it looks like.
“Toji-“
“What the fuck happened?” His voice is a low grumble as he eyes you closely. He’s itching to hear a name — someone to kill for touching you like that. Only he gets to touch you there.
Your words are choked up in your throat, misunderstanding Toji’s possessiveness for anger towards you. You can’t even think of what to say before your son speaks up for you.
“Mama and I saved by a man!” Megumi shouts, looking up at his dad, even your toddler understood the gravity of the situation.
“Saved?” Toji questions as he shifts his gaze over to Megumi with a raised eyebrow — still angry but albeit a little amused.
“Yeah! Car almost hit mama and me! The man grabbed us to save us.” Your toddler explains it as if it’s a fond memory for him.
Your eyes meet Toji’s, and you nod your head slightly, agreeing with your son. “I was going into the market, and a car nearly backed over Megumi and I. The guy grabbed us up before it completely hit us.”
Toji takes a big breath, and his large palm finds the back of your head, guiding you to lie on his chest for moment. He just needs to he close to you after the gymnastics his brain just did.
“Christ, mama. Don’t worry me like that.” He mumbles lowly before pressing a kiss onto your forehead.
“Daddy, ew! Gross!”
SUKUNA
It was time for nightly worship for you and the other concubines, except here recently, it’s only been you attending nightly worship. The concubines had been dropping like flies recently… like actually dropping dead.
Why would Sukuna need concubines when you were already his most devout follower? Not to mention, he immediately made up his mind once he felt your precious cunt for the first time — so fucking tight and wet, begging to be bred by him — he didn’t need anyone else. You were the solution to all of his problems. Hell, he might even give you his heir one day.
He was sat in his throne with a mere red and black silk robe covering his monstrous body. One of his hands was occupied with a chalice of… well, you don’t really want to know what he was sipping on.
His other oversized hand was tenderly resting on your head. His palm was as big as your head, covering the crown completely, while you had your chin propped up on his thigh — on your knees in front of him. This was his favorite sight. He could really appreciate your beauty when the other concubines weren’t making so much racket. It was the right decision to have them disposed of.
You’re so pliant with your head in his lap. He finds it amusing how comfortable you look before him — as if he isn’t the literal incarnate of evil. He almost finds you adorable like a small kitten.
“What are you thinking about, woman?” He asks, surprisingly breaking the silence between you two. He’s the type of man to value the quiet, and he hates small talk, but he can’t help but want to hear your voice.
“Hm?” You hum lazily, being broken out of your daydream. Your eyes meet his as you look up at him. “I’m just thinking about bedtime… It’s been an eventful day.” You answer softly before a yawn escapes you, earning a small snicker from Sukuna.
“You shall retire in my chambers tonight. Go dispose of your clothes and slip between the sheets. I’ll be in there in just a moment.” He pats your head, signaling you may get up now.
Scurrying off to Sukuna’s chambers, the King of Curses narrows his eyes. He could’ve swore he just saw a bruise on you, and it’s definitely not one that he left…
Once he was inside his chambers, his eyes rested upon your small, frail body. You looked so cute, curled up in his massive bed. He slips his robe off, revealing his sculpted body. He looks like more than a king. He’s no less than a god.
Slipping between the sheets so he can finally feel your flesh against his, Sukuna can’t help but check. One of his hands captures your arm, and he looks at it. A deep scowl forms on his face as he sees the mark of another on you.
“What fool dared to touch you?” He demands, blood pressure already rising.
“What-?” You ask a bit confused, but you’re quickly reminded when Sukuna presses down on the bruise, making it worse. He’s sick in the head, thinking that if he can’t remove the bruise from you, he’ll just make his own mark right on top of it-
“Ow-! Kuna-!” You whine as his thumb presses down firmer. “Why are you- oww! please! I’m sorry, my lord! The gardener was just trying to save me from tripping and falling-“
His hand releases. “The gardener, huh?” He muses before making a few hand symbols. You’ll never see that gardener again. He should’ve known better than you touch you. You watch Sukuna with a slightly fearful look, and Sukuna feels his stomach twist with detest.
“Don’t look at me like that. It displeases me.” He frowns when he notes your fear does not simply vanish. Releasing a tense breath, he carefully brings your arm up to his mouth, and he presses a gentle kiss to the darkening bruise on your arm. “I had to make my own mark. I forget how fragile you mortals are… I… apologize.”
MAHITO
His eyes were wide and filled with utter rage as he saw the bruise displayed on your arm. He didn’t know how to cope with these new… emotions. Mahito didn’t believe he could feel a thing such as jealousy until you came around, his pretty pet. you just didn’t know it yet.
His foot was tapping violently against the ground as he tried to think of a way to bring it up casually in front of the others. He didn’t need Kenjaku on his case again for “falling for you”… whatever that fucking meant.
“Did you have a run in with the sorcerers, pet?” He finally asks as you and Jogo are playing Mahjong.
You look down at your arm at the blue and purple bruise that was welping up on your skin, and you nod your head at Mahito’s question.
“One of them got me good… He barely touched me though, so it caught me off guard.” You finally respond, and Mahito feels his very soul light on fire. Another man dared to touch you? You? His pet?? Even worse, it was a sorcerer.
“Did you kill him?” Mahito asks as he has to place his hands underneath his thighs to keep from reaching out to grab you up. Last time he did that, Kenjaku threatened to swallow him up like an uzumaki, but he can’t help it. He constantly feels an overwhelming urge to just touch you. If he could, he’d merge your soul with his so you’d be bound to him for life.
“No… he got away before I could finish the job.” You pout as you place your next tile down on the playing board.
“What did he look like?” Mahito’s heart starts to race. The thought of killing the guy who dared to touch you is intoxicating. He wants to hear the man cry and beg for mercy. He wants to coat himself in the man’s blood then fuck you until you cry.
“Oh, um, he had pink fluffy hair, and a jujutsu tech uniform on with red sneakers.”
“You ran into Sukuna’s vessel, Yuji Itadori???” Kenjaku perks up from the newspaper he was reading, and he immediately stomps over to you, needing more information.
“Yuji Itadori…. I’ll kill him.” Mahito mumbles to himself before breaking out in a small laugh. The thought of it— it’s so euphoric.
The yard was a picture of peace and beauty—sunlight filtering through the cherry blossom trees, petals drifting lazily on the wind, and little Yuji sitting on your lap, kicking his legs. Sukuna, in his full, massive form, lounged nearby against the trunk of a tree, his hulking figure looking both menacing and oddly relaxed. One of his four arms was tossing a piece of fruit in the air, while the other three rested lazily on his lap.
You were gently combing through Yuji’s soft pink hair as he stared up at you with his big, curious eyes. The boy had been unusually quiet for a few minutes, which was always a red flag. He tilted his head at you, his face a mix of innocent curiosity and confusion.
“Mommy,” Yuji began, “where did I come from?”
You smiled softly, brushing a petal off his cheek. “You came from me, sweetheart. You grew in my tummy before you were born.”
Yuji’s little mouth fell open in shock. He pressed his tiny hands to your stomach, eyes wide with disbelief. “In your tummy?” he repeated, as though you had just revealed the greatest secret of all time.
“Mm-hmm,” you nodded, your tone light and warm.
Yuji sat there, stunned, his mind clearly working overtime to process this revelation. Then, his lips quivered, his eyes welled up, and before you could react, he bolted up and sprinted straight to Sukuna, tears streaming down his little face.
“Daddy!” Yuji wailed, throwing himself against Sukuna’s massive arm like it was a fortress. “Why did Mommy eat me?!”
Sukuna froze for a second, his four crimson eyes blinking in disbelief. Then, a deep, rumbling laugh erupted from his chest, so loud it seemed to shake the entire yard. His sharp teeth glinted as he threw his head back, laughing uncontrollably.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Yuji, that’s not what I meant!” you called, trying not to laugh yourself.
But Yuji clung to Sukuna like his life depended on it. “Daddy, is that why she’s always telling me to eat my food? Because she ate me first?!”
Sukuna was now laughing so hard that tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. “Oh, this is wonderful!” he bellowed, patting Yuji’s back with one massive hand while the others held his stomach. “You’ve truly outdone yourself this time, woman.”
“Don’t encourage him!” you hissed, trying to grab Yuji back, but the little boy was having none of it.
“Don’t let her eat me again, Daddy!” Yuji sobbed, clutching Sukuna’s arm with all the strength his little hands could muster.
Sukuna smirked, his laughter dying down into a devilish grin. “Relax, brat. I’d never let her eat you again. You’re far too noisy to digest properly.”
“HEY!” You protested, throwing a cherry blossom petal at him, which, unsurprisingly, didn’t faze him at all.
Yuji sniffled, his big eyes looking up at Sukuna. “Really?”
“Of course,” Sukuna said, his voice dripping with mock seriousness. “You’re too much trouble. But don’t get any ideas—just because I won’t eat you doesn’t mean I won’t roast you over a fire if you keep crying like this.”
Yuji’s sniffles turned into giggles, his tears drying instantly as he started poking at Sukuna’s arm. “You’d never roast me, Daddy! Mommy says I’m too sweet for that!”
Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Sweet, huh? Must take after your mother, then.”
You finally managed to scoop Yuji back into your lap, shaking your head but smiling. “You’re impossible, both of you.”
Yuji grinned up at you, his earlier distress completely forgotten. “Mommy, next time, can I grow in Daddy’s tummy? He’s bigger!”
Sukuna choked on a laugh, while you just sighed dramatically, pressing a kiss to Yuji’s forehead.
As the peaceful evening resumed, Sukuna leaned back against the tree again, still chuckling under his breath. “You’ve got a weird kid, woman,” he muttered, but the glint of pride in his crimson eyes gave him away.
<><><>
i freaking love baby yuji so much 😭🥹
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(Gyomei is introducing his chubby newborn baby to the other Hashira)
Gyomei: This is Yusuke. Y/n just gave birth to him a few weeks ago.
Mitsuri: aww! He’s so cute!
Shinobu: he looks just like you
Gyomei: would you guys like to hold him?
(After everyone but Sanemi has held the baby)
Gyomei: Shinazugawa, would you like to hold Yusuke?
Sanemi: *holding Yusuke* you look like a lump of mochi
Baby Yusuke: *face contorts and he starts to cry*
Mitsuri: Sanemi, how could you? You made him cry
Tengen: nice going Sanemi
Sanemi: *grumbling as he hands Yusuke to Gyomei* I didn’t mean to make him cry
——————————————————————————
(Kyojuro and Y/n are trying to take a family picture but their 3 year old won’t stop crying)
Y/n: what are we going to do, they won’t stop crying?
Kyojuro: Just give them a box of raisins
Y/n: Seriously?
Kyojuro: *pulls out box of raisins and hands it to his child* there see
Three year old: *immediately stops crying and is waving the raisins around*
Y/n: I swear they get that from you
——————————————————————————
(Sanemi was left at home to look after his 4 year old and 1 year old alone. He was watching them but took a small nap. He wakes up to find his oldest has drawn all over his 1 year old in marker)
Sanemi: what did you do to your brother?
Four year old: *holding the marker* wasn’t me
1 year old: *laughing*
Sanemi: *mumbles to himself* help me clean your brother up now
——————————————————————————
(Conversation between Kyojuro, Sanemi and Tengen)
Tengen: I’m pretty sure my neighbor thinks I’m a terrible father
Sanemi: just ignore them
Kyojuro: you’re not a terrible father, what makes you say that?
Tengen: they saw me chasing my naked three year old twins around the front lawn. Again
Kyojuro: why were you chasing them
Sanemi: wait, what do you mean again
Tengen: they finished taking their bathes but refused to put clothes on
Tengen: then they unlocked the front door and began running around. As soon as I caught one, I’d start chasing the other, but the one in my hands would slip out as soon as I caught the other one. My neighbors saw the whole thing
——————————————————————————
Y/n: *walks into the bathroom where their five year old son is* oh my god! What did you do
Son: *smiles and looks at their mom*
Sanemi: *comes running in* what’s wrong? What happened?
Y/n: take a look at your son, notice anything missing
Sanemi: *stares for a minute* what happened to your eyebrows?
Son: I gets rid of them. Now daddy and I match
Y/n: *turns away snickering*
Sanemi: OI!
——————————————————————————
Kyojuro: *is asleep*
3 year old: Daddy wake up
Kyojuro: *continues to sleep*
3 year old: *grabs TV remote and proceeds to smack Kyojuro with it* Daddy up!
Kyojuro: ow! I’m up
——————————————————————————
(Giyuu, y/n and their 5 year old are in their backyard)
Y/n: and just what do you think you’re doing?
5 year old: *holding a giant Japanese salamander like it’s a stuffed animal* I found him, can we keep him?
Y/n: *looks at the salamander that’s as big as their child* where did you even find that
5 year old: in the river… so… can we keep him?
Y/n: *flabbergasted* where do you expect to put him?
5 year old: in the pond with the fish
Y/n: I’m sorry but that thing will eat the fish
Y/n: *looks at Giyuu* you want to say anything?
Giyuu: …. We could build a second pond for him
Y/n: *throws hands in the air* seriously
Giyuu: what’s his name?
5 year old: Mr. Flabbs
——————————————————————————
Y/n: honey, do you know where our daughter is?
Gyomei: I believe she is in the kitchen….
Y/n: *after walking into the kitchen* oh my god no! Spit that out!
3 year old: *runs out of the kitchen*
Y/n: Gyomei catch her!
Gyomei: *catches daughter and holds her up*
Y/n: spit that out right now!
3 year old: *spits out cockroach into Gyomei’s hand*
Gyomei: please tell me this isn’t what I think it is
Y/n: I wish I could
——————————————————————————
(Y/n, Sanemi and their 3 year old are at an appliance store)
Y/n: *looking at washing machines with Sanemi* what do you think of this…. Where’s our child?
Sanemi: they were right here
Y/n: *look’s around and is mortified* oh please no
Sanemi: what?
Three year old: *is sitting on one of the display toilets with their pants down singing while grunting*
Y/n: stay here while I get the wet wipes
Sanemi: *covers his face in shame*
Store attendant: *trying so hard not to laugh*
——————————————————————————
(Obanai, Mitsuri and y/n are giving their 2 and 3 year olds a bath in the tub)
Obanai: *leaves the bathroom to grab something real quick*
Y/n: how are the kids?
Obanai: just got them into the bath
Mitsuri: *getting the kid’s pajamas ready* they are just so cute
3 year old: *shouting* boat! A boat!
Y/n: did you put toys in the tub?
Obanai: no, we don’t even have any boat toys
Mitsuri: then what is…
Obanai, y/n and Mitsuri: *runs into the bathroom*
(They walk into the bathroom to see their 2 and 3 year olds in the tub with a turd floating around)
3 year old: look a boat!
Mitsuri: *covers her face*
Y/n: *scrambles to quickly remove the kids from the tub*
Obanai: *disgusted as he empties the tub and removes the turd* I’ll run another bath
Y/n: *looks to Mitsuri* still think they’re cute?
——————————————————————————