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ifyougoillfollow · 2 years

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a song for a song

"Can you sing, senpai?"

Hizashi winces. He hadn't meant to cut Kayama off, even if he hasn't been entirely listening to a word she's said for the past hour or so.

Kayama straightens from her crouch, hands him yet another fistful of dirt-clodded roots to stuff into his increasingly soiled satchel. At this point, he's going to have to wash it. And his robes. And his hair, too, while he's at it. He should have braided it; it's getting kind of long. Now there's probably bugs in it.

Hizashi refuses to cry about it. Plenty of other things to cry about nowadays, and he's yet to cry about any of those, so bugs? Not gonna do it. Not today.

Kayama eyes him a little like she was eyeing those roots on the forest floor a second ago, but in the end she only snorts and says, "You're the bard here, not me."

"And you're the witch, yet here I am with dirty, smelly herbs in my robes."

"No one asked you to come, snotbrain."

Hizashi takes a moment to remind himself that he is not crying today, then says, "Well, fortunately for you, senpai, Aizawa has gotten much better at evading me with his stealthy ninja skills, so looks like you're stuck with my lovely, charmingly clingy self for the foreseeable future."

"Lucky me, indeed," Kayama mutters, even as she's foisting more assorted foliage onto Hizashi's wary arms. She waits until he deems each twig adequately bug-free before setting off again into whatever new direction through the trees her witchy senses are leading her towards.

"Yeah, I can sing," she answers at length, "I guess. Probably not as well as you can, though, if we're being honest. Not exactly my specialty, is it?"

There was a time, not two moons ago, when Hizashi would have preened at his senpai's first-ever admission that she likes his singing. Now, it just serves as a reminder of all the songs he's had caught in his throat since Oboro died.

Kayama is not looking at him, too busy charming her way through previously virgin forest brush in order to allow them easier passage. Hizashi feels her scrutiny regardless. The air is clear and sweet and open. Inviting. Hushed like a sated dinner crowd awaiting the first song of the evening. The absence where Hizashi's song would be if he weren't choking on it rings louder than his voice ever could.

Kayama slows, her shoulders rising gently in what could be a breath or a sigh. Hizashi nearly hightails it out of the forest right then and there – bugs and blushing virgin underbrush be damned – but when Kayama speaks it's only to tell him to keep an eye out for a flower that 'kind of looks like two monkeys fornicating,' and then she's off again about herbs and roots and spices and their many medicinal and decidedly non-medicinal applications.

She has a lovely voice, even when just speaking. Full and rich and with a little too much heat, like smoke from a spitting hearth fire. Hizashi's always wondered what it'd sound like in song, can't stop wondering even as she goes on and on about dirt and leaves and bark, until she finally stops to contemplate a vine unfurling from what might very well be the heavens for all the attention Hizashi's paying to it.

"Sing for me," he says, unable to choke the words down.

Kayama snorts, keeps contemplating her vine. "What, right now?"

Because that wasn't a 'no' and because she's not looking at him and because the clear forest air remains bereft of song, Hizashi asks, "Why not?"

"I don't know many songs, for one."

"Choose whatever. Anything at all."

"What if I choose a terrible song?" she asks, affecting a pout.

"No such thing, senpai!"

She rolls her eyes and bats the vine at him, but it's only a few beats before she caves. "Honestly, I only know lullabies," she says. "You know – for fussy little babies."

Hizashi laughs. "Lullabies are good! Sing me a lullaby, senpai!"

Kayama's answering grin is more teeth than anything, and it's also the first sign that Hizashi has walked into a trap. "All right," she says, voice too-innocent, "if you insist. Follow me." She flashes another snaketooth grin at him and disappears behind a curtain of vines.

At the sight of the lone finger she sticks back through to beckon him forward, Hizashi once again considers taking his chances on a solo sprint back out of the woods. In the end, his curiosity wins out over his meager self-preservation instincts. He follows.

The two-step trek through the vines is harrowing, but what he finds on the other side might be even more so. It's a perfectly picturesque clearing. Suspiciously picturesque. The clearing is warm and bright and cozy, with lush cloud-cover trees surrounding a bed of down-soft grass and wildflowers. There's even a brook babbling quietly to itself off to the side. A far cry from the barely tamed woods two steps behind him.

Kayama, perched on the grass below a swaying willow, laughs at whatever expression is on Hizashi's face. "Welcome to my den of decadence," she all but purrs, "where I bring all my... conquests."

Hizashi tries not to balk. Tries.

Kayama cackles. "Oh, don't flatter yourself. You wanted me to sing you a lullaby, so I'm going to sing you a lullaby. Properly." She pats a spot on the ground right next to her. "Come here."

Hizashi, forever hapless in the face of his senpai's schemes, does as he's told. Once he's seated, Kayama roots around in her bag for some incense to light ("For the bugs," she informs him with a roll of her eyes) and a stoppered vial filled with an unidentified lavender-colored liquid.

"For you," she says expectantly.

Hizashi downs the contents of the vial without question. It tastes like too-sweet perfume, but he's had worse tonics from Chiyo-sensei, so he doesn't complain.

"It's a new sleep potion I'm working on," Kayama explains, even though he hadn't asked. "I've been meaning to test it, but I haven't had any willing volunteers due to what happened last time – which wasn't even my fault, if anyone's asking – and Chiyo-sensei says slipping potions into other people's food is unethical because she's no fun, so here we are."

For his own peace of mind, Hizashi elects not to ask what happened last time. "How long will it take to work," he asks instead, "and how long will I stay asleep?"

"No idea, that's why we're testing it. Now lay back, unless you want to crack your skull if it takes effect suddenly."

Hizashi eyes the grassy ground warily. "How effective is this fancy incense of yours at keeping bugs away again?"

"Oh, come here, you big baby." She tugs at him until he's laying down with his head pillowed on her lap. Hizashi does his level best to not perish on the spot. She flicks him on the forehead. "Relax, already. I won't bite unless you ask me to."

"Not helping," Hizashi grumbles, willfully ignoring his fever-hot face.

Kayama's thigh is warm under his cheek, and she smells like twigs and earth and wildflowers, and Hizashi is not crushing on his senpai – he is not – but suddenly he understands all too clearly why Oboro had once badgered him for weeks to serenade Kayama on his behalf, until Hizashi had agreed on the condition that Oboro write the lyrics himself (and make that fact clear to all present witnesses), which he did, happily, and the lyrics had been terrible and mortifying and damned near impossible to put to melody, but Hizashi had put his bardly reputation on the line and done it, and Kayama had, of course, laughed like he's never heard her laugh before or since, but had also been so obviously charmed by it that Oboro didn't stop smiling for the rest of the week. If all of Hizashi's songs hadn't died with Oboro, he'd be singing that one right now.

"Sing for me, senpai," he says, because his eyes are starting to burn and because she promised and because this moment calls for song. Every moment calls for song.

"You're the bard here," says Kayama, fingers tugging knots from his hair, "not me."

"Please..."

"A song for a song, then."

"Sleepy..." he mumbles, and it's an excuse, but it's also the truth, his limbs heavy as sun-warmed sand.

"When you wake up."

He shakes his head.

"Why not?"

"Can't," he whispers, too tired to scream.

"Sure you can. You're a bard."

Is that what he is? Kayama-senpai sure seems to think so. She keeps saying it. Why does she have to keep saying it?

"I'm not singing until you say it."

No. That's not fair. She promised.

"Yamada." She smacks his sleep-numb cheek until he looks up at her blearily. "You're a bard. Aren't you?"

"I'm a bard," says Hizashi, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's telling people what they need to hear.

"Good boy," says his senpai, and she's not smiling any kind of smile, but she does finally – finally – start to sing.

Her voice is as lovely and Hizashi knew it would be, and the song – well, the song is lovely, too, in the way that all songs are lovely, even though this particular song is about a busy baby bee winding down for bedtime. Hizashi lets the lyrics wash over and through him, but the melody – the melody he soaks up along with Kayama's voice, lets it seep into the very core of him, into the sun-spooled place nestled deep behind his rib-cage from where his songs and his soul and his spells flow and flourish, and he knows without a doubt that he will never be without song again, because if nothing else, he'll always have this one simple melody, soft and whole and true.

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sttoru · 1 month

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you’re his dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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