Summary: You are sick, and your six soulmates are there to comfort you.
Pairing: Chronic Illness Riddled Soft F!Reader x JJK Men (Ryomen Sukuna, Zenin Toji, Daddy Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguwu, Kamo Chocho.) Ft. Dr. Higuruma Hiromi.
The header was made by me, line dividers are from @cursed-carmine, and bunny dividers are by @dividersnook11.
A/N: I see you guys wanted this one posted first. Based on this ask I got last year. Symptoms are vague, and the reader's gender/pronouns aren't really relevant to the plot. WC: 2.7K.
For @mullermilkshake, hope you heal properly and swiftly, my love.
You woke up to six men arguing in your bedroom.
“Move your damn elbow,” Sukuna snapped.
“That’s not my elbow, fatass,” Satoru fired back instantly from somewhere near your feet. “That’s her plushie.”
“…Why the fuck does she sleep with seven stuffed rabbits?”
“Because she likes cute things,” Choso answered softly, internally proud to have figured it out.
“Shocking,” Toji muttered from the doorway, carrying a grocery bag full of medicine, chips, and three different kinds of soup. “Tiny bunny likes fluffy shit.”
You blinked awake slowly from beneath the mountain of blankets cocooning you. Your body ached horribly today—everything felt too much, too rough, too painful against your skin: the blanket, your socks, and even the pillow under your knees. Your legs throbbed like somebody had filled your bones with static, and lifting your head made the room tilt.
Immediately, six pairs of eyes snapped toward you.
“Good morning, bunny." Suguru smiled.
Kento was already getting up to cross the room, setting a cool hand against your forehead while the others crowded like feral dogs and cats behind him.
“You’re still warm,” he sighed, thumb brushing your temple.
“No shit,” Sukuna scoffed, arms crossed. “She’s been hurting for two days.”
“Your bedside manner is beautiful,” Suguru deadpanned.
“You say that every day.”
You made a tiny, weak noise from the bed.
Instantly, everyone was silent.
Choso dropped beside you fast. “Baby? Do you need something?” His voice went all soft and worried immediately, eyes huge. “Are you hurting?”
That was maybe the wrong answer because suddenly all of your soulmates reacted like someone had stolen their wallets.
“Where?” Kento asked, with concern barely hidden.
“You nauseous?” Toji interrogated.
“You need water?” Satoru shoved a cup into view so fast that water sloshed onto the blanket.
Choso caught it before it drenched you, scowling at him.
Sukuna leaned over everybody else, glaring. “I’ll kill the doctor.”
You stared at them blearily. “…my legs hurt.”
The room collectively melted.
“Oh, bunny,” Choso whispered, as if your pained voice had stabbed him right in the chest.
You were very soft, very sweet, and very bad at handling pain, which meant whenever your chronic illness flared up, your boyfriends acted like overprotective teddy bears.
Especially because you kept apologizing like the pain was poor manners.
“Sorry,” you mumbled weakly. “I’m useless today…”
All six of them looked offended.
Toji narrowed his eyes. “The hell d’you mean, useless?”
“You can barely walk,” Kento remarked gently, pulling blankets higher around you. “You’re in pain, darling, so you need the rest.”
“But you guys have stuff to do…”
Satoru looked genuinely horrified. “Baby, I skipped work.”
“You skip work every week,” Kento deadpanned.
“Yeah, but this time it’s for love.”
Suguru rolled his eyes before crouching beside the bed. "Bunny, look at me.”
You peeked at him slowly.
“You do realize none of us mind taking care of you, right?”
“She still thinks the opposite regardless,” Sukuna grumbled, arms crossed over his chest.
“Even says ‘sorry’ every three seconds,” Toji grumbled.
“I counted seventeen yesterday,” Satoru added unhelpfully.
You shrank deeper into the blankets, sheeoish. “Sorry—”
“See?” All six snapped at once.
Then Choso carefully climbed into bed beside you, big arms wrapping around your waist with sweet gentleness because he always thought you were something precious and fragile.
“You don’t have to apologize for hurting,” he murmured against your hair. “We love taking care of you.”
That made your achy little heart squeeze embarrassingly hard.
Unfortunately, Satoru immediately ruined the delicate moment by climbing onto the bed, too. “My turn.”
“No,” Sukuna yelled loudly.
“I’m undoubtedly her favorite.”
Kento rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Can we not start testosterone wars around the sick woman?”
Toji was already dragging Satoru backward by his hoodie while the latter clung strongly to the blankets.
“Baby,” Satoru whined. “They’re separating us.”
“You’re crushing her legs, idiot,” Suguru groaned, shoving him off you.
“Oh.” Satoru paused. “…Sorry.”
You rubbed a hand over your face. “You all are too loud.”
“Unfortunately,” Sukuna muttered, already moving to massage your feet.
The rest of the morning passed in stupid domestic little rotations.
Kento handled medicine and water. Suguru handled soup and tea. Toji took care of things around the house before your feet could even touch the floor. Choso hovered close enough to feel everything personally.
Satoru called himself emotional support and immediately got banned from touching the thermometer.
Sukuna said he wasn’t worried, then spent twenty minutes rubbing warmth into your calves with a scowl that wasn't directed at you.
By afternoon, they had relocated you to the couch.
The pain had gotten worse. You couldn’t walk much at all—your joints kept locking whenever you tried moving.
So naturally, Choso had decided you belonged attached to him permanently.
You were currently bundled in his hoodie while sitting in his lap on the couch. His chin rested lightly atop your head while his strong arms stayed looped around your waist snugly.
All the while, Satoru was sprawled across both of you as Sukuna sat nearby, pretending not to watch you but the TV. Kento read while keeping track of your medicine timing every few minutes. Suguru sat next to Choso and brushed your hair gently as Toji cooked something in the kitchen, cursing at the stove.
You sniffled softly. “I love you guys.”
Sukuna clicked his tongue immediately. “Yeah, yeah.” But his ears looked suspiciously red.
"Holy shit." Satoru gasped. "Say it again."
“She’s medicated,” Kento warned.
Suguru smiled softly and booped your nose. “We love you too, bunny.”
“To a criminal degree,” Toji added from the kitchen.
Choso squeezed you tighter, not saying much.
You looked around at all six of them—your loud, insane, overprotective men who argued and threatened each other daily and somehow still took care of you like it was the most important thing in the world.
“…can we all cuddle?” You mumbled sleepily, making grabby hands from where you sat tucked against Choso’s chest.
Satoru immediately launched himself over you, almost shoving Choso away. “MOVE, LOSER.”
“The fuck are you diving for?” Toji barked, appearing from the kitchen and catching him by the hoodie before he crushed you.
“She’s already cuddling me,” Choso muttered, anger lacing his tone, his grip around your waist tightening possessively.
“Greedy bastard,” Sukuna scoffed, shifting closer to you.
Kento sighed like a tired father of five and sat near your feet, adjusting the hot water bottle.
Suguru calmly started rearranging blankets before the situation devolved further. “Honestly, all of you are acting like children.”
“Sure, daddy,” Satoru grinned unrepentant.
You made a tiny, pleased noise as warmth surrounded you from every direction: Choso behind you, your face pressed into Sukuna’s warm chest, Satoru somehow trying to crawl into your chest, Toji’s heavy hand rubbing absentmindedly over your ankle, Kento checking the heating temp around your legs, and Suguru smoothing your hair back from your sweaty forehead.
“You comfy, baby?" Choso murmured near your ear.
Your sleepy eyes fluttered shut while the six of them continued bickering quietly around you.
“You’re crushing my arm.”
“Why’s your foot so damn big?”
“Why’s your head so empty?”
“Can all of you shut up? She’s falling asleep.”
“Aw,” Satoru whispered. “Kuna cares.”
“Say another word and I’ll hurl you through the wall.”
You smiled weakly against Choso’s chest, feeling safe, warm, and loved stupidly.
In the evening, you woke up alone on the couch, thirsty and foggy enough to make one very stupid decision.
“You are not supposed to be out of bed.”
You froze in the hallway with one hand on the wall, fuzzy socks dragging slightly against the floor.
Toji stood at the end of the hall with a laundry basket tucked under one arm, staring at you.
His eyes dropped to your shaking knees. “Don’t ‘hi’ me, bun.”
“I was just getting water.”
“There are six men in this house.”
“I didn’t want to bother anyone.”
That was the wrong thing to say because he kept the basket aside, and then within the next seconds you were suddenly in his arms, lifted off the floor like a misbehaving kitten.
“You were about to fall over in pain.”
“You swayed at the word ‘water.’”
You pouted, but your body was melting into his chest because everything hurt today and he felt safe and solid.
By the time Toji carried you back into the bedroom, everyone had somehow been summoned there like you’d triggered a silent alarm.
Kento had been looking for you with medicine in one hand, water in the other, and a look on his face that made you feel two apples tall.
Satoru was kneeling on the bed, horrified. “Bun bun! Bunny, why were you escaping?”
“Caught her making a break for it,” Toji deadpanned.
Suguru sighed from beside the dresser, where he was folding one of your blankets properly because Satoru had somehow turned it into a rope. "Bunny, you promised you’d call one of us if you want something.”
Choso, who had sat down quietly near your pillows, looked wounded. “Bad?”
“You were hurting, and you felt bad?”
“Oh no,” Satoru whispered. “She broke him.”
Sukuna walked over with a soup bowl in his hand. “Good. Maybe now he’ll stop looking like a kicked dog and help make her eat.”
“I am helping,” Choso growled, voice low and deadly.
“You’re staring at her like she’s dying.”
“She didn’t. Big guy caught her.”
Toji finally dropped you gently onto the mattress. “Damn right I did.”
Kento immediately moved in. “Sit up a little, love.”
You obeyed because Kento had that calm voice—the one that made your insides all warm and fuzzy like a forest cabin.
He handed you the pills first, then the glass. “Drink.”
You swallowed the pills and drank.
“Good girl,” Satoru cooed.
Your stomach did a little flip.
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t praise her for swallowing medicine.”
“I’ll gouge your eyes with the spoon and then shove it down your throat.”
Suguru took the bowl from Sukuna before murder became part of your care routine. “Soup first. Violence later.”
“It’s not violence if he deserves it.”
He scoffed, but his ears went suspiciously red again. “Eat your soup, brat.”
Suguru sat beside you and lifted the spoon to your mouth. “Small bites.”
Your hands trembled trying to reach for the bowl.
Every man in the room stared.
You slowly put your hands back down. “…Okay.”
Choso made a tiny distressed sound and shifted into bed beside you, paying careful attention not to jostle your legs, and softly held your hand under the blanket.
“You should have told me,” he whispered. “I would’ve carried the water. Or you. Or both.”
“That’s my job,” Toji grumbled, annoyed.
“You put a red shirt in with her white socks last week,” Kento added dryly.
Toji looked away. “I’m colorblind."
Choso stared at him. “Since a.. when?”
Satoru crawled toward you with tragic eyes. “Bunny, were you trying to leave me?”
“You were snoring,” Sukuna stated, refilling the empty glass.
“I was communicating with her soul.”
“You were drooling on her plushie.”
“My love language is moisture.”
You almost gagged, unable to swallow the soup Sukuna had made.
“Satoru,” Suguru muttered pleasantly, glaring, "stop talking. I need her to eat."
You tried to laugh, weak and breathy, until the movement made pain flare through your legs and your smile crumpled before you could hide it.
Kento adjusted the heated blanket over your knees. "Relax, love.”
Choso squeezed your fingers. “It’s ok, you don’t have to be strong right now.”
Suguru brushed damp hair from your face with his other hand while Toji lowered the lights.
Satoru pressed a kiss to your temple, unusually quiet.
Sukuna sat in front of you on the bed, his big hands wrapping around your ankle, rubbing slow warmth into the ache.
“Oh, bunny,” Choso whispered. “Does it hurt too much?”
“I’m sorry." You nodded, sniffling, embarrassed by the tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m being annoying and needy.”
“No. None of that thinking,” Kento said firmly.
“Pain’s pain,” Toji muttered.
“And you’re our girl,” Suguru added softly.
Sukuna clicked his tongue. “Cry if you need to. Just don’t apologize for it.”
Satoru gasped. “That was almost mature of you, Shrek.”
Sukuna’s hand paused on your ankle. “Say that again.”
“Compliment or insult? Be specific. I’m receiving a lot of energy from you right now.”
“I’ll fry your testicles.”
Then, very quietly, added, “With garlic butter?”
“That’s it. Timeout.” Toji straightened immediately. “Bathroom. Now!”
“Wait, wait, I have follow-up questions—”
Suguru handed the soup over to Kento, caught Satoru by the collar before he could finish, and moved him out like a man escorting a raccoon out of a wedding. “You are taking a ten-minute break.”
From the hallway, Satoru yelled something incoherent.
Sukuna went back to rubbing your ankle.
Hiromi woke up at 1:07 AM because someone had rung the bell once and knocked multiple times.
He opened the door, rubbing his eyes blearily.
Six men stood in the hallway.
Kento was holding a folder; Suguru, a paper bag of tea; Satoru waved; and Choso looked like he had been crying in the car, while Toji had one hand braced on the doorframe like he was the landlord.
Sukuna growled, “Our bunny hurts.”
Hiromi thought it must be sleep deprivation, so he shut his eyes.
Choso held up a bunny plushie the size of his head. “The Warmie does not work.”
Sukuna’s jaw twitched. “He means she's still crying every few hours.”
Suguru answered first, immediately furious. “She asked if needing help was too much.”
Hiromi stared at all of them for a long second. “I meant about the medical condition.”
Toji cracked his knuckles.
Hiromi sighed so hard he aged four years.
From the back, Choso raised his hand. “Can she have pudding with the medicine?”
Sukuna clicked his tongue. “That’s what you came here to ask?”
“She makes the sad face.”
“She does make the sad face,” Kento agreed.
Sukuna nodded once, satisfied. “Good doctor.”
Hiromi pointed at him. “Do not praise me like a dog.”
Satoru was already backing away, texting. “Great news, bunbun. Doctor says pudding is medically binding.”
“That is not what I said.”
Suguru patted Hiromi’s shoulder as they left. “Thank you for your time.”
Kento added, “We were never here.”
And looked for tickets to Alaska.
At 3:45 AM, you blinked awake.
Choso was behind you, rubbing your back. Kento sat close, glasses low on his nose, reading something on his phone with the grim focus of a man trying to defeat your illness himself. Suguru tucked the blanket beneath your chin. Toji blocked the edge of the bed like a guard dog. Satoru had his cheek squished against your other shoulder.
“You comfy, bunny?” Choso murmured.
“Mhm,” you breathed, still sleepy.
Satoru smiled, turning to you, his lips close to your forehead. “She looks drugged.”
“The medicine is kicking in,” Kento added.
Sukuna pulled the blanket higher around your legs. “Try walking again, and I’m putting a bell on you.”
Your eyes fluttered shut. “…a cute bell?”
“Absolutely not," Kento groaned.
Would you guys live with them? And if yes, who'd be just a lil bit your fav?
For me it's a tie between Sukuna & Choso, but Sugu, ahhh, I can't pick.
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