YOUR IDEA OF DAZAI AND FYODOR BOTH SUCKING UR NIPPLES WAS AMAZING OMFG I NEED A LIL FIC

YOUR IDEA OF DAZAI AND FYODOR BOTH SUCKING UR NIPPLES WAS AMAZING OMFG I NEED A LIL FIC

Ofc ofc 😼

It was probably the best sight you had ever seen in your life

The great demon fyodor, with arguably the most deadly ability known,

And the former demon prodigy of the port mafia,

And both of them were suckling your nipples, Dazai on one and fyodor on the other, both needy and desperate as though milk could be drawn from them

You couldn’t tell who looked more pathetic, they both looked quite similar, the both of them moaning and whimpering into your breast, greedy and wanting more

Fyodor had his eyes open, looking up at you as his hips ground into your thigh, his pace erratic and uncoordinated, no method whatsoever, only chasing the pleasure of his high

Dazai had his eyes closed in bliss, completely losing himself at the feeling of your nipple in his mouth, your body against his

He had one hand holding your breast in position as he sucked, while the other was desperately fisting his cock in a furious pace

Oh your two poor babies, they’d never felt this kind of comfort from anyone

You could tell, the way they melted into you, all thoughts disappearing and their instincts taking over speaking for itself

You could tell they were both getting close, Dazai letting out more higher pitched and frequent moans while his hand sped up, and fyodors hips kept stuttering, his cock leaking and eyes almost crossing as he tried his best to keep his gaze on you

Though Dazai had much more experience than fyodor and usually lasted very long, he came first with a loud whine, sucking (and almost biting) your nipple hard while he emptied over your abdomen, hand slowing down as he rode his orgasm out

Dazai had never felt this kind of intimacy before, all his previous sexual partners having more of a transactional feel during the deed, never having a proper emotional connection

Not to mention all the hate sex he had

He’s never had a loving touch in his life, not like this

And Fyodor was losing his mind

He hadn’t felt this kind of nurturing love in so long, he could barely remember what it felt like, his entire life dedicated to his cause

He never let himself indulge in his own needs outside of what was necessary to keep him alive, so being able to just let go?

God, it was addictive, he couldn’t get enough, his mind clouding over with thoughts of you, you, you

Fyodor soon came after Dazai, letting out a choked moan as he humped and bucked his hips, his semen coating your thigh

You reached down, grasping their hair and gently trying to pry them off your nipples

Fyodor came off with a soft gasp, face blushed and mouth parted, saliva covering his lips and chin

Dazai, on the other hand, whined fighting the gentle pull of your hand while he continued suckling, hand still cupping his dick

“Dazai, baby, you have to let me get up to clean you two” you said softly, meeting his gaze when his eyes opened

His face was blushed from what you could see, and he gave you a pleading look as he shook his head ‘no’, letting out a “mm-mm!”

“Cmon, don’t you want to be a good boy for mommy? I’ll let you two suck after, ok?” You say, negotiating

He let out a small whine before popping off, allowing you to get the cloth you set aside and clean up

Afterwords, you wordlessly sank back into bed, allowing fyodor and Dazai to reattach their lips to your nipples, both gently suckling until they eventually nodded off

————

Idk if this is good but oh well, at least the idea is good

✧ tough guy iwaizumi hajime who ends up falling for his best friend’s cute little sister

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (nsfw at the end ⚠︎)

✧ word count 857

all three of you grow up together, with you being two years younger than tooru. oikawa is always doting on you, treating you like a doll. despite the very little age gap, no matter how old you get, he’s always referring to you as his baby sister. oikawa spoils you rotten. one look from those big brown eyes you both share, but look a lot cuter on you for some reason, and oikawa can’t help but to give you whatever you ask for.

in the beginning, iwaizumi is almost like your other, more responsible big brother when things go wrong. you’re always trying to tag along with your older brother and his friend, which is a recipe for disaster sometimes.

when you inevitably take a spill, and bump your knees, tooru is rolling on the ground, shouting out against the heavens for forsaking you. how could the higher powers let you just fall to the ground like that?? but iwaizumi is is silently wiping off the pebbles from your knee with his little hands, blowing cool air to help assuage your pain. without a word, he carries you back home.

eventually you learn to stop tagging along so much. you can only handle so much pain and embarrassment. other than those moments, iwaizumi and you never really spend that much time together. for the rest of your childhood, you’re more acquaintances than anything else.

but at some point, after oikawa desperately begs you to join the boys volleyball team as it’s manager (“its the only time we’ll be together in high school, you wouldn’t ruthlessly deny your precious and loving and dashing and charming big brother this chance, would you???”), iwaizumi begins to notice you again. but this time, you’re a lot more grown up than you were before. seems like good looks run in the family.

but he’s not the only one that notices. in the same sense that oikawa seems to have the student body under his spell, it seems you do as well, and without even trying.

you’ve had a sheltered childhood that you mostly spent in doors, so you’re shyer than most people. and your brother enables you with his doting behaviour.

iwaizumi finds himself frequently getting jealous at the basket of love letters and confectionery that you have to empty out of your locker and lug home every night. iwaizumi finds that his hands begin to ache after a while bc he clenches them so hard whenever he sees another person confessing to you. and he waits with baited breath to see their disappointed faces as they walk away—an indication that you turned them down again in the way that you always shyly do; an indication that he might still have a chance, yet.

in an effort to put the moves on you, iwaizumi is constantly performing little acts of service for you. he goes out with you to the fountains to refill the water bottles so that you have some company, and so that you won’t have to carry anything heavy—that should be his job, after all. in the most cliche move ever, when an errant ball goes flying right in your direction, iwaizumi coolly catches it with one hand before it can bounce off of your head, making sure to ask you if you’re okay after. he stays behind to help you sweep the floors after practice, striking up a conversation with you. when oikawa stays behind to practice his spikes, iwaizumi walks alone with you home, making sure to keep you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the road. iwa also makes sure to put your back against the wall of the train while standing in front of you, keeping you safe from any wandering hands.

eventually, he even starts buying your favourite milk drink from the vending machine, and brings it to you while he visits your classroom, the place where you normally eat your lunch. he sits, and eats with you (to which oikawa complains vehemently bc “why would you just sit in a different spot than we normally do without telling me?? you left me all alone!!")

iwaizumi’s actions don’t go unnoticed. you start to fall for it.

when you two eventually start to date, oikawa is whining and complaining that you two are both stealing each other away from him (there’s also relentless teasing on oikawa’s end bc “iwa-chan, isn’t funny that you fell in love with someone that looks just like me?? are you secretly gay and actually just in love with me :3 ??”)

but what’s really the kick in the back for oikawa is the moment he runs up to his precious little sister’s room to check and see what she wants for dinner. but upon opening the door, he finds both his best friend (who, of which, he didn’t even know was over their place at the moment) on top of his “adorable baby sister who can do absolutely no wrong”; the two of them are naked from the waist down, in the throes of passion.

he falls to his knees, asking god to strike him dead, right then and there.

euphoria || bottom gojo x reader NSFW

✎ summary: when gojo wears a bunny girl suit and you’re unable to control yourself

✎ pairing: bottom gojo x fem! reader

✎ warnings/tags: NSFW, explicit content, bottom! gojo, brat! gojo, pegging, sex toys, overstimulation, dom/sub, rough sex, dacryphilia, rough sex, multiple sex positions, doggy style, riding, masturbation, exhibitionism

✎ word count: 2.3k

“so, how do I look?”

you take a moment to really look at him, soaking in the sight of the white haired man sitting on the bed in front of you. his legs are crossed, flaunting the fishnet tights that cover the skin on his calves and thighs. his torso is covered in a slick black bodysuit, the material exposing his ass and chest. the sweet little cherry on top however, is the bunny ears that stem from the headband tucked into his tousled hair.

he uncrosses his legs, and you lay eyes on his erection pushing against the material covering his crotch.

“are you turned on by yourself?”

“well who wouldn’t be, just look at me” he grins, “you can’t confidently tell me, that this outfit doesn’t make you want to fuck me.”

Keep reading

Starved (Sanji x GN!reader)

🍴CW: angst (with a happy ending of course 😌), swearing.

🍴Brief description: after several days spent unconscious in the infirmary, reader sneaks into the kitchen where they get caught by Sanji who has waited for them to finally wake up.

(with honorable appearances of the other strawhats ✌️ didn't plan to include anything like that?..it just happened?...and I ended up liking it A LOT ahdshgajd)

Just in case: longer parts of text fully in italics like that signal flashbacks!

Enjoy!

The light flickered on.

Shit. Maybe you still had a second or two to flee before the lamp’s unsteady twinkle would turn into a blinding beam. 

There was nowhere to flee, though, with the kitchen’s exit now apparently blocked with someone roused, just like you, by nightly hunger.

Or so you hoped. You really hoped it was that. Otherwise-

The flicker steadied into a dim, orange shine of a lamp in the need of change. The fridge, the door of which you were currently holding onto with a white-knuckled, scared grip, beeped softly, signalling for you to either finally take something or leave, but not before remembering to close it.

You froze. Whoever was behind you did the same.

Shit.

It definitely wasn’t Luffy (too quiet, and for way too long), definitely wasn’t Usopp (night duty), definitely wasn’t Zoro (you would’ve already heard the confused ‘huh?’). Definitely not Nami or Chopper (they would’ve already thrown a fit, though with varying volume and apparency of worry present in their voices).

So. 

You turned around, painfully slowly. Literally painfully, your bruised ribs seemed to creak just as loud as your neck.

Sanji stood rigidly still in the doorframe with his hand on the light switch. A cigarette hung from his mouth, still burning, a single soft sigh away from falling tip-down onto the floor. Some of the ash dropped, impatient for a helping hand.

Sanji made no move. Didn’t voice any of the thousands of things flashing through his mind. His brows went up and down, again up and down again, as if fighting the shock.

It was unnerving to watch. Unsettling. Unusual.

“Uh,” your voice, hoarse from disuse, scraped on the silence, just as crudely abrupt as the lights above. “Hello. Sorry, uh, I’m- I just-”

That seemed to bring Sanji back into motion, though the starved rumbling of your stomach stiffened him again into immobility.

God. Honestly, what the hell even..

You were hungry, so hungry. Starved. First unconscious, then half-conscious but unable to consume even a tiny crumb. And now, when you finally felt alive-

“I-

“Would you like to eat?”

Huh? 

“What?” this time it was you turned immobile.

“Would you like something to eat?” Sanji repeated. His hand, previously on the light switch, moved to push the cigarette further back into his mouth.

He stepped fully into the room, detached gaze on you. Too detached for the trembling hands in his pockets.

“I,” you glanced into the creak of the fridge door where barely anything at all could be distinguished. “Yeah. Yeah, a bit. Sorry, didn’t want to intrude like that.”

And you didn’t. You really didn’t. You just couldn’t hold any longer.

You hand’t eaten for days.

Sanji nodded, his hands slipping from his pockets to roll up his sleeves.

“Allow me to serve you some late dinner, then.”

“I could just grab something really quick myself, though, I wouldn’t want to-”

“Just let me,” the look he gave you from under his hair cut you short.

Just how exposed, how vulnerable it was.

“I waited so long to do this. Please, let me. ”

You stepped away, giving him space, moving backwards, almost falling into the chair. Your stomach rumbled again.

“Please, eat this, at least. It’s just a slice of bread, very-very thin, you won’t even feel it!” Chopper pleaded with you for the tenth, twentieth, maybe hundredth time, even. You turned away to face the wall, half-lucid but still flinching at the tiny doctor’s poorly contained sobs. Someone clicked their tongue behind the door. 

You wished you could eat. Just that slice of bread. Or an orange from the basket Nami had left on the nightstand before you even came to your senses. Or that weird sweet Usopp got in some equally weird shop from the latest town you visited. You wished you could just eat. 

“…thanks.”

“No problem.”

Sanji reached into the fridge to grab a few plates, carefully sealed with food wrap. Put them on the counter, removing it from each one. Your brows went up.

“We have leftovers?”

Sanji’s hands on the wrap stilled. He turned to look at you like he’d never done before. Careful. Bewildered. Immeasurably sad.

“You could never and would never give you leftovers,” he vowed, desperate for you to hear him loud and clear. “Ever.”

You felt sorry, so sorry because you still didn’t understand.

“Extras?”

“No,” he scrunched the wrap in his fist and threw it away; took out a pan, turned on the stove, put the content of  plate into it to re-warm them, even though you now had a microwave, too, from the latest town you visited. Usopp told you. At least you believe it was him, real him and not a dream or hallucination.

“It's the microwave the Gol D. Roger himself used! ” Usopp declared first with his chest puffed out, then deflated slightly from uncertainty after a moment. “At least the shopkeep told me so. But he seemed reliable, so there is no way it was made up! And it was pretty pricey, too, so there’s just no way it couldn’t be Rogers! ”

You didn’t answer, giving him the opportunity to carry on; you couldn’t have even if there was something to add or interject with. Just like you couldn’t eat. You were half-present, half-conscious. 

To yourself. To them you were half-dead.

Sanji nudged the pan up. The contents — rice, some shrimps, some greens — flew up and landed back.

“These are yours. Your portions,” he explained. “I made them this evening.”

”We had amaaazing fish today!“ Luffy threw his hands up, wildly swinging back and forth in his seat. “That weird one Sanji got from the market. He almost fought someone for it! It’s not as delicious as meat, of course, but I understand why he was about to kick some guy to have it! If you wake up now, or next morning, there’ll still be some left maybe. But I can’t promise, it’s just sooo tasty! So you need to wake up as fast as possible! It’s some rare fish we won’t find in this sea, at least Sanji said so.”

You didn’t wake up. You didn’t even hear him. You were too deeply out. Chopper made Luffy leave. There was still that fish left for you in the morning.

There really was no fish like that in the sea you were currently crossing. Sanji wished it'd been All Blue, so he could catch a dozen for you to try after.

“Every day I prayed you would wake up,” the cook put the dish back into the plate and started re-warming the second one. “I prayed you would, and you didn‘t.But what if one of these days you suddenly were? How could I possibly leave you starved? I wouldn’t deserve to be your cook if I would let something like this happen.”

You hunched your shoulders, flinching from the shock of pain going through you. You hoped Chopper was fast asleep; you weren’t supposed to get up yet.

“Sorry I didn’t wake up earlier.”

“Thank you for waking up today.”

Sanji placed the plates on the table, sat down across from you, put out his cigarette before lighting a new one right after.

You didn’t even thank him for the meal, viciously sinking your teeth into the food, not registering the taste at all in such a hurry for satiation. 

You didn’t notice Sanji’s gaze never leaving your face, a disturbingly distant look taking over his eyes.

“The hell are you doing here?”

“Napping.”

“Didn’t know you napped with your eyes open. That a swordsman thing? So you could see your foes sneaking on you from under an infirmary bed?”

“Piss off.”

Sanji leaned on the doorframe, taking a cigarette out of his mouth to hide it behind his back. His other hand held a plate with freshly made food.

“Asleep still?”

“Yeah.”

Sanji exhaled, tapping the ash off automatically without putting much thought into the action. He wasn’t going to make another drag until he left the room. 

Zoro tipped his head. Not turning, his eyes still on your motionless form. Just like Sanji‘s. 

“There‘s no room for any more food here. I‘ll come up when there‘s need for it.”

“There’s a great chance you‘ll get lost on your way, so I‘d rather come by and check myself. ”

“Piss off. ”

“You used that already.”

“Eloquence isn‘t my priority right now,“ Zoro snapped without heat, raising a bottle of booze Sanji didn’t notice from behind his hulking, sulking form.

“I‘m surprised you know the word for it. ”

”Fuck off,“ Zoro threw over his shoulder, chugging half of the bottle‘s contents in one go. 

Sanji left, wishing the same had happened with the food he’d made for you.

You stopped short when you realised you were scrapping of leftovers off the plate. 

You gingerly lifted your eyes to find Sanji staring right back at you. Now that was just embarrassing.

“Sorry,” you murmured, wiping your mouth with a sleeve, gently pushing the plate away. “That wasn‘t very proper of me.”

“Are you still hungry?” the cook asked. The fog of thoughts barely lifted from his eyes.

You swallowed. It wouldn‘t hurt, right? You couldn‘t probably embarrass yourself more.

“A bit,” you admitted, doing everything in your power to keep looking at him. Reaching into his mind. Asking him if it was still alright.

Sanji‘s seat scraped across the floor. He got up, turned around, pushed it back with his leg.

“Wait, please. I will make something ready in a minute.”

“Sanji-kun?”

“Yes, Nami-san, my dearest?”

The redhead slipped a piece of paper across the counter. Sanji, currently preoccupied with making dinner, couldn‘t yet give it his full attention.

“What is this, Nami-san? A recipe you would like me to try? I will do anything you want, my love, but I‘m afraid I can’t check it myself right now. Could you read it aloud for me,please? If you don‘t mind, of course.”

“This can wait. It‘s not for me.”

Sanji shifted. Have you come to your senses? For how long? Were you lucid right then or was it brief?

“Not yet,” Nami admitted as if having read his very thoughts. “But I have a feeling it‘ll happen soon.”

Sanji nodded, turning back to his cooking, squeezing the pan‘s handle until it felt like it would burn through his skin to the bone.

A new plate with the treat Nami and you tried at a restaurant in that town you left a few days ago was now put before you.

“Hey,” you called with widened eyes. “Isn‘t that- How did you make it?”

Sanji didn’t answer. He went around the table, sunk to his knees before you and embraced you around your waist with shaking arms, careful not to disturb your injuries.

“Sanji?!“

”Don‘t do this,“ his shaking increased. His tears seeped through your bed clothes. “Please, never again. Don’t do this to me. Please, don’t be so reckless. Don’t do this, please, don’t do this to me again.”

You bowed you head down and hugged him closer. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his hair, caressing his shuddering back. “I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Promise me.”

“Promise,” you swore into the night and the days to come.

The door flew open, revealing a breathless, teary-eyed Chopper behind it. And the rest of the crew with him.

“I said I‘d come up if anything changed. Could‘ve waited, you jerks,” Zoro grumbled, a tired smirk spreading across his features as he talked.

That night the recipe from that scrap of paper was perfected through repeated servings. 

little lunch mishap - s. gojo x reader

contents: fem!reader (called mom/momma), mentions of eating, gojo sucks at packing lunches for his kids, written a little after gojo finds megumi and tsumiki

when gojo first met megumi, he’d made sure his infinity was on; he had you and shoko throw random things at him from across the field with and without cursed energy to make sure it worked properly. now, two years later, he doesn’t even realize that it’s off around the seven-year-old kid—not until megumi nails him in the face with an unripe clementine.

“ow!” gojo exclaims, bringing his hand up to his cheek as he lets his sunglasses clatter to the floor. “what was that for, megs?”

megumi glares at gojo, holding a softer and riper clementine in his grasp. you glance over at them from the kitchen as they stare each other down.

“that was the fruit you put in my lunch,” megumi grumbles as he sinks his little fingers into his ripe clementine. “i know you packed it ‘cause mom normally peels them for me.”

“okay,” gojo starts as he leans over and picks up the clementine megumi threw at him, the skin split and the sticky juice dripping all over the tiled floor and his hands. he places the ruined fruit on the counter, bending over again and picking up his sunglasses. “momma had a mission this morning, so me—your amazing and awesome dad—packed your lunch and tsumiki’s,” gojo says with gritted teeth, putting unnecessary stress on the word ‘dad’. “and by the way,” he adds as an afterthought, “tsumiki ate all of her’s.” gojo puffs his chest triumphantly, settling his glasses back onto his face.

you glance at tsumiki as she does her homework, stifling your laughter when a small grimace washes over her features.

“was it that bad?” you ask her in a quiet whisper, making sure gojo and megumi don’t hear you.

tsumiki looks up at you and nods, “satoru made us sandwiches but i think he used the bread that you told him to throw out; it was kind of moldy.” she takes in your wide eyes and adds: “i didn’t eat it, i threw it away.”

you let out a relieved sigh, turning back around to pick up a plate of sliced apples and a cup of peanut butter. you place it down on the kitchen island next to tsumiki as she thanks you. megumi finishes shoving his peeled clementine in his mouth, passing the peel off to gojo as he takes a seat next to his sister.

“are you making lunch tomorrow for school?” he asks you, picking up an apple slice and taking a bite out of it.

you hum in response, scooping out some marshmallow fluff fruit dip you’d made a few days ago. you set it in front of gojo who begrudgingly reaches over and takes an apple slice. you stop megumi from slapping the fruit out of gojo’s hand.

“hey! it wasn’t that bad,” gojo insists through a mouthful of apple. megumi looks at him in disgust. “you had veggies, fruits, and a main meal! i even packed a snack in there!”

you sigh, “‘gumi, what did satoru pack you?”

megumi wipes his hands on a napkin as he looks at you. he makes a point to swallow before speaking. “an unripe clementine, a whole unpeeled carrot from the garden with its top still on, a moldy sandwich, and a family sized bag of skittles.” he swings his feet back and forth under the kitchen island, “i ate the carrot.”

you glance at satoru who reddens at megumi’s words, “okay… tsumiki, what was in yours?” you turn your attention to the little girl who sits next to megumi.

tsumiki glances at gojo in sympathy, “a moldy sandwich, a whole avocado, a green tomato that he picked from the garden even though megumi said it was unready, and a chocolate bar.” she looks at you with a smile, “i ate the avocado. i also had a square from the chocolate bar.”

you frown as you turn back around and pull out a bag of bread and an open bag of chips. gojo watches as you easily slather two slices of bread in peanut butter and strawberry jam, slicing it diagonally and placing the pieces on two different plates. you dump a generous amount of chips on each plate before placing them in front of megumi and tsumiki. you turn around and pick up the marshmallow fluff dip, sliding it into the fridge and shutting the door with your hip. gojo unabashedly stares at your ass when you bend over.

“okay, satoru,” you sigh as you turn towards him. he looks up at you with bright eyes, smiling into his palm. his glasses are on the counter. “from now on, you’ll take my morning missions and i’ll make their lunches.” you watch from the corner of your eye as megumi eagerly eats his chips and sandwich. “and you’ll throw out the bread when i tell you it’s gone bad.”

gojo drops his head on the counter. “you know, you’re so pretty, baby.” he looks up at you through his lashes, batting them intensely. “i’m truthfully so lucky to have you in my life.”

you look at him blankly. “and you’ll be doing the dishes for the next two weeks.”

“WHAT?”

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx