NANAMI PLEASE OH MY GOD

NANAMI PLEASE OH MY GOD

like wow nanami with a s/o that falls asleep after using like 200% of her cursed energy after a rough mission!

Sypnosis - Being a sorcerer wasn't easy, but your husband would be there no matter how worn out you may be.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, NANAMI BEING DOMESTIC ASF, uhh I don't know does fluff really need warnings...?

A/N - Don't worry everyone, Nanami is 100% safe and enjoying his retirement in Malaysia with his little wife, it's okay.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Darling? Is that you?” 

You can’t find it in yourself to answer your husband’s gentle call, eyes struggling to remain open as you stagger into your shared apartment, hands bracing themselves against any solid surface in the hopes that you would be able to scoot yourself towards either the couch, or better yet, your bed.  

Your latest mission had been one of the toughest yet. Taking on a Special Grade curse entirely on your own wasn’t a simple feat, even for a sorcerer as skilled as yourself. The overexertion of your Cursed Energy left you utterly exhausted and craving sleep — it was the hardest you had pushed yourself in a long time.  

You try to blink the exhaustion from your eyes as you finally make it into the living room, eyeing the empty couch with a borderline hungry glint to your irises. Your palms are cupped over shallow wounds on your body, fingertips lightly touching the various scrapes and bruises that you had received from the Special Grade Cursed Spirit. In honesty, you were lucky to leave in the condition you were in — many other sorcerers would have had gashes and fatal lacerations.  

Staggering towards the couch, you all but collapse onto it, burying your face into the pillows and turning your back to the rest of the room. Your eyes easily fall shut, body slumping into a comfortable position. Within seconds, you’re snoring on the couch, dead to the rest of the world. 

“Darling?” 

Quietly, Nanami enters the living room, having been worried at your lack of a response. He’s just about to call out for you again when he notices you asleep on the couch, your back turned to him with your shoulders rising and falling in deep, relaxed breaths.  

His lips turn upward in a gentle, loving smile — and in three steps he crosses the room and gently kneels down at the edge of the couch. He reaches a hand out, finger stroking your spine and prompting you to turn to face him, awoken by the soft touch.  

“Hi,” you whisper sleepily, blinking slowly at Nanami. He smiles at you, waiting for you to turn completely before he speaks to you. 

“Hello. How was your mission?” 

“Tiring.” 

He hums in thought. He can see the telltale signs of your exhaustion painted onto your face — your sunken eyes, the eyebags just underneath your usually bright irises, the soft paleness to your skin. Nanami’s hand shifts, his finger stroking lightly against your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch, biting back a yawn.  

“Missed you though.” 

Nanami’s heart warms, his smile widening ever so subtly.  

“I missed you too darling. But you should rest,” he scolds you gently, removing his finger from your face and already shifting to stand up. Your hand flies out, fingers catching the sleeve of his shirt and momentarily stopping him.  

“Stay?” you offer, lifting the blanket that you had haphazardly thrown over yourself. Nanami chuckles, shaking his head at you before taking a step forward, carefully slotting himself against you on the couch. He lifts your body, settling you on top of his chest and tucking your head underneath his chin.  

You sigh in content, already feeling your eyes growing heavy again. Nanami’s fingers against your spine only relax you more, his fingertips dragging up and down over your skin. “I love you.” 

You smile sleepily, squeezing at your husband affectionately. “I love you more.” 

"Will you do just...one thing for me?" His voice is weak, broken. A stark contrast to the firm aura that he constantly radiated, it being one of his defining qualities.  

But that persona had crumbled the moment that a single realization dawned on Nanami; the idea, or rather the fact, that he would never be able to see you again.  

Just hours ago he would have been waiting for the day to end, counting down the hours, minutes, and then seconds until he was back where he had always loved to be; with you.  

Now? 

Gone was that hope, gone was the counting on his fingers until his work day was over, gone was the wondering what you would prepare for dinner tonight, gone was the longing to lay in bed and simply listen as you rambled about your day. It was all gone. 

Nanami waits, his eyes not once leaving Yuuji's. The shock on the teenager's face is heartbreaking, his eyes wide and his eyebrows raised in disbelief at the current situation. He knows of the outcome, but he doesn't want to accept it, he can't accept it.  

"Find (Y/N). I want you to tell her...what has transpired of today. I want you to remind her, that even if I'm not...there with her, that I love her." 

Yuuji listens silently, already feeling the familiar sensation of tears building in the backs of his eyes. His vision blurs as they flood, clinging desperately to his bottom lashes and just barely threatening to fall down his cheeks. But he doesn't know if his tears are brought on by Nanami's words or by the extended period of time for which he had kept them open.  

"Will you do that for me?" Nanami asks, trying his hardest and failing to hide the slight desperation in his voice. You needed to know, please. He waits, even though the skeletal hands of the Reapers slowly begin to extend for him, counting silently in their heads.  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, though it doesn't move. Instead, it only strengthens the tears in his eyes, and against his better judgement, a few of them fall.  

He nods. 

Nanami smiles, his head leaning back in acceptance. His eyes flutter shut, his mind painting just one final image of you. Everything down to the very lashes of your eyes is portrayed to perfection, granting him one final look at you. 

"I'm sorry (Y/N)," Nanami whispers to nobody in particular, already feeling his body weaken. His head turns, gazing into eyes that stare back at him without an ounce of sympathy.  

Yuuji stares in shock as the body of his mentor promptly implodes.  

But he only has a single question. 

Who is (Y/N)? 

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Even him saying something as simple as your name had your heart fluttering -- it was something that he often teased you for.

He had noticed it early on in your relationship. How every time he uttered your name you would smile and scrunch your nose adorably, a light pink blush painting your cheeks.

And every time that he noticed, he would reach his fingers out, taking your chin and tilting it upward so that your gaze would lock with his own. No words were ever exchanged in those moments, not that either of you minded.

While still staring so lovingly at one another, Suguru would slot his lips against your own, his hands moving to hold your cheeks. His thumbs softly graze your skin, lips curling into a smile against your own as you press impossibly further into him.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

During those troubled nights when sleep just wouldn't come easily for you, you'd find yourself sneaking into Suguru's dorm in search of comfort; he would read to you.

Sometimes it was Jane Austen, sometimes it was a cheesy romance novel, or sometimes it would be a manga that Suguru borrowed from Satoru.

To you, it didn't really matter what it was. Just hearing Suguru talk was comforting enough, how he gave emotion to the characters and made even the most boring stories sound somewhat interesting.

Laying against his chest with his fingers carding through your hair, Suguru would hold whatever book you picked out in his free hand, propped open on his fingers as he kept his voice soft. He didn't want you to be too awake after all.

And somehow, every single time without fail, you would end up asleep against his chest before he could even finish the chapter.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Hearing his tone change when talking to Satoru as opposed to when he spoke to you never failed to make you laugh. How even if Suguru was scolding Satoru for being reckless on a mission, the moment he laid eyes on you, his tone shifted.

"Honestly Satoru, one of these days your recklessness is going to get you kill -- (Y/N), there you are love."

It never failed to make you smile; how he never took a harsh tone with you and spoke to you as if you were the only person in the room.

And every time, without fail, Satoru would throw his arms up and dramatically complain.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Even hearing it over the phone brought butterflies to your stomach. In the mornings, Suguru had made it a habit to call you if you didn't spend the night, wanting your voice to be the first thing that he heard as opposed to Satoru's obnoxious snoring. Curse the walls for being so thin.

Every time your phone went off in the morning, you would sleepily grin to yourself, accepting Suguru's call and feeling your heart flutter at his words. "G'morning baby."

You put your phone on speaker, laying it on the pillow beside your head and allowing your eyes to flutter shut again, wishing that Suguru was lying beside you.

"Good morning."

At your words, Suguru hums, silently loving the sleepy drawl to your voice. There was no doubt in his mind that you were stifling a yawn as you spoke, just another little quirk that only made Suguru fall harder and harder for you.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice. Even when he was telling you to leave. 

“Suguru?”  

The sound of your voice makes his heart ache, his eyebrows pinching together as his spine stiffens. He didn’t have the heart to turn to face you, not wanting to see the heartbroken expression plastered onto your face. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he saw it.  

Suguru sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before forcing himself to face you, keeping his eyes shut. Your eyebrows pinch together as he faces you, a concerned wrinkle indenting in your forehead.  

“Suguru — I just want to know what’s going on. What happened? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you ask, mind spiraling as your vision blurs with unshed tears. All you want is to understand. All you want is to help him. 

“There’s nothing to talk about (Y/N),” Suguru answers plainly, finally opening his eyes. Immediately, he wishes that he hadn’t. Seeing you on the verge of tears, and knowing that he was the reason for it only added to the already heavy guilt weighing on his chest.  

“But there is,” you emphasize, taking a step forward and bravely wrapping your fingers around Suguru’s wrist. You tug at his sleeve lightly, forcing him to make eye contact with you — which he had been avoidant of since he turned to face you. “I’m here to help you Suguru.” 

Suguru shakes his head, removing his wrist from your grasp. Your lips part, wanting to say something more but not being able to think of the right words.  

“I don’t need help. Everything is—“ 

“I swear on everything, if you have the audacity to tell me that ‘everything is fine’, I will not hesitate to hit you,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing as you glare up at your boyfriend. He only stares blankly back at you, not daring to say a word now that he’d unintentionally angered you.  

“You can’t help me, even if you wanted to,” Suguru tells you, turning himself away from you again. Your chest tightens, tears threatening to fall from your bottom lash line as you stare at Suguru’s back. “Just go back to Jujutsu Tech.” 

“What?” 

Suguru feels his heart crack in his chest, ignoring his own tears as they begin to burn the backs of his eyes. Even at your single-worded response, he can’t find the strength to repeat himself.  

“Suguru,” you whisper, voice breaking. He screws his eyes shut, forcing himself to ignore your words. He hates himself, he hates himself for shutting you out, he hates himself for making you worry about him, he hates himself for deciding to leave you and everything that he had ever loved behind.  

“Goodbye (Y/N).” 

You shake your head, already taking a step towards him, fingers extended to grab onto him.  

But with a single sweep of the crowd that surrounds you, Suguru disappears. Your fingers shake, still hovering in the air in the hopes that you would magically grab onto him — but even you know that that won’t happen.  

You’d always loved Suguru’s voice.  Even when it wasn’t really him speaking to you. 

You can practically feel your heart in your throat at who stands in front of you. It was him — but at the same time it wasn’t.  

Everything about him was the same, down to the way that he styled his hair. His eyes were still that soft shade of brown that you adored gazing into. His lips still wear that same smile that had been flashed at you so lovingly.  

The only noticeable difference was the stitches circling his forehead. That was how you knew it wasn’t your Suguru, even though you wanted so desperately to believe otherwise. 

“(Y/N),” Satoru whispers, already reaching for you. You blink back the tears that build quickly in your eyes, feeling your breathing quicken as you stare at Suguru — if you could even use that name anymore. Satoru had only ever referred to him as ‘Geto’ following his departure from Jujutsu Tech.  

Geto only stares coldly at both you and Satoru, his eyes narrowing momentarily at you before he raises his hand. “A shame that you’re both distracted.” 

Your heart sinks. He sounds exactly the same as he did in your memory. He sounds exactly like how he did in every voicemail that you’d kept and listened to on repeat.  

Defiantly, you shake your head, ignoring the tremble in your bottom lip and forcing your hands to curl into white-knuckled fists.  

You’d never hated the sound of someone’s voice more.  

Geto, Gojo, and Choso with an s/o going out for a girls night with her friends but her dress is VERRRRY short. :))

A/N : STOP BECAUSE I WAS KICKING MY FEET AND TWIRLING MY HAIR THE ENTIRE TIME THAT I WAS WRITING THIS.

Includes - Suguru Geto, Satoru Gojo, Choso Kamo

Warning(s) - suggestive content, foul language, Gojo is a WHORE (what else is new honestly)

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Fuck me!” 

Suguru’s ears perk at the sound of your frustrated voice, head tilting curiously as he glances up from his phone. He stands from his position on the couch, slowly entering your shared bedroom and watching as you pull down the back of your dress.  

Judging by your irritated tone and stiffened body language, it wasn’t the first or the second time that you had tugged your dress down.  

“Everything okay in here baby?” Suguru inquires from the door, forcing his eyes to meet your own as opposed to wandering down. The last thing that he wanted was to be on the receiving end of your wrath — the last time that had happened, he had been placed on a week long sex ban.  

To say he barely survived that would be the understatement of the century.  

“Just this stupid dress,” you bite out angrily, slapping your hands against your thighs in defeat. You had accidentally ordered the dress a size too small, but it hadn’t looked that short when you laid it out over your bed.  

But now that you were wearing it, it continued to ride up with every single one of your movements, nearly exposing your entire backside.  

The fact that you hadn’t ripped the dress to shreds with your bare hands was a miracle in it of itself.  

Suguru finally allows his eyes to rake up and down your figure, admiring the way that the dress hugs your curves while still remaining elegant. The straps are loose over your shoulders, intentionally of course and the dress’ corset only makes you look that much better.  

But you don’t see it that way, instead, you see the dress as an inconvenience that is only making you more and more late for your girls’ night with Shoko and Utahime.  

In the reflection of the mirror, you can see Suguru watching you hungrily, a look that goes directly to your core. You can feel your face warming underneath his gaze, and you know that silently, he’s trying to make you even more late than you already were.  

“Don’t look at me like that,” you whine, turning to look at Suguru. He crosses his arms, still leaning against the doorframe and smirking at you. He doesn’t fail to notice the way your thighs rub against one another, no doubt trying to provide yourself with the tiniest bit of friction.  

“Oh? And why’s that?” he teases you, raising an eyebrow. You fight back the urge to roll your eyes, knowing the action would only dig you into a deeper hole.  

“You’re going to make me late,” you point out, turning back to the full-body mirror. You grab the bottoms of your dress again, tugging downward sharply and hoping that it would stay. But of course, the moment that you straighten your back, the dress rides up.  

This time however, Suguru doesn’t bite his tongue.  

“I’m not going to make you late, but that dress sure will,” Suguru steps forward, closing the distance between the two of you. His arms wrap loosely around your waist, tugging your back against his chest whilst his chin hooks over your shoulder.  

You let out a sigh, body relaxing against Suguru’s while one of his hands begins to slowly drift lower, sending a delicious shiver down your spine. “Suguru-“ 

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, biting back the desperate whimper that claws at the base of your throat. He smiles at the look on your face, keeping his fingers right against the inside of your thigh.  

“I’m definitely going to be late now,” you sigh, leaning your head back so that it hits against Suguru’s shoulder. He grins in victory, then hooking his arms beneath you and swiftly lifting you from the ground.  

“That you are,” he agrees, all the while you giggle at your boyfriend’s antics.  

“Babe, Shoko texted you again. Do you want me to answer for you—?” Satoru cuts himself off as he enters your bedroom, standing slack-jawed in the doorframe as you continue to get ready, having not heard your boyfriend enter.  

You smooth your hands over your dress, turning your body in a circle to admire yourself in your room’s full-body mirror. An approving smile curls the corner of your lips upward. You had put so much time and effort into your hair, makeup, and outfit — to have it pay off was one of the most rewarding feelings.  

“Satoru? Everything okay?” you ask suddenly, having finally noticed your snowy-haired boyfriend standing in the doorframe of your bedroom. His jaw is still practically on the floor, arms hanging limply at his sides as he simply stares at you — it’s almost unsettling, really.  

He swallows the lump in his throat, suddenly aware of how tight his pants feel. And as badly as he wants to pounce on you, he knew that you would protest under the reason that Shoko would have your head if you were late to another girl’s night.  

“Yeah! Yeah, everything’s good,” he nods quickly, clearing his throat and doing his best to play off the way that he had been ogling at you.  

Curiously, you raise an eyebrow at him, but you say nothing in response. You turn back to the mirror, lifting your hands to your hair and smoothing it out, making sure that no strand was out of place.  

Satoru swallows again, glancing down at your phone in his hand before tossing it on the bed, then following it and laying on his stomach on the bed. Though laying on his stomach was uncomfortable, he wouldn’t dare admit that simply looking at you had gotten him hard.  

“Are you sure that everything is okay Satoru?” you inquire from your place in the front of the mirror, not failing to notice how he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you — not that that was an uncommon occurrence anyway.  

Shaking his head and forcing his gaze up to meet your own, Satoru nods quickly — almost too quickly to even be considered human.  

You hum, already feeling a smirk curl the corner of your lips upward as you turn to face him, being sure to sway your hips as you walk over to your bed.  

You reach your hands down, cupping the sides of Satoru’s face and guiding his gaze to meet yours, an action that he follows without an ounce of hesitation.  

“You really are a terrible liar,” you murmur, taking note of your boyfriend’s half-lidded eyes and the small purse of his lips. You lean down, slotting your lips against his own and smiling against him at the moan that he releases into your mouth.  

He leans further into you, pushing himself up onto his knees and wrapping his arms around your waist, tugging you against him.  

You pull back from him to catch your breath, not failing to notice the small whine that your action pulls from the back of Satoru’s throat.  

“I can’t be late again,” you point out, finding yourself smiling as Satoru’s lust-blown eyes flicker about your expression, deflating when he realizes that you’re being serious.  

“Please? It won’t be that late,” Satoru whispers, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and placing sloppy kisses against the skin there. He smirks against you at the shiver that runs up your spine. 

You sigh, disconnecting Satoru from your neck and placing your hands against his cheeks again. He tilts his head at you, feigning innocence as you playfully glare down your nose at him.  

“Fine,” you relent, craning your neck and pressing your lips to Satoru, allowing him to tug you onto your bed.  

You ended up being two hours late to girl’s night — much to the displeasure of Shoko. 

“Choso, honey, could you come in here for a second?” you call sweetly from your bedroom, smoothing your hands over the front of your dress. You find yourself smiling at the sound of hurried footsteps growing louder, and in a matter of seconds, Choso is standing in the doorframe of your bedroom.  

He pauses at the sight in front of him. You’re standing in front of the mirror propped up against one of the bedroom walls, hair done up with a face of makeup on. You’re wearing a dress that Choso hadn’t seen before; a skintight black dress that rides up just a touch too high for his liking — but he would never tell you not to wear it.  

You turn to Choso, smiling and placing your hands on your hips — completely oblivious to the effect that you were currently having on him.  

“What do you think?” you ask him, leaning your weight to the side. Your dress follows your movement, the right side riding up to expose the skin of your thigh. Choso’s eyes flicker to the newly exposed skin, but they just as quickly return to your eyes, not wanting you to think he was ogling you.  

He swallows past the lump in his throat, while also doing his best to ignore the growing strain in his pants. He would just have to restrain himself, you had to leave in twenty minutes after all. The last thing that he wanted was to be the cause of your lateness — though he didn’t know how long he would be able to hold out once you were gone. 

“You look gorgeous,” Choso responds quickly, realizing that he had accidentally found himself caught in his own thoughts. You smile at his praise, crossing the room and lifting your arms to wrap them over his neck, nails lightly tracing the nape of his neck.  

He shivers against your fingers, biting back a moan that climbs up his throat. You smile mischievously, flashing him one of those looks — the one where he knows that you wouldn’t exactly mind being late for girl’s night.  

Choso quickly leans down, roughly pressing his lips to yours as he tugs your chest flush against his own, hands gripping at your waist while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly on the strands. You receive a cracked moan into your mouth following your action — one that has you smirking against Choso’s lips.  

He steps towards your bed, lightly dragging you with him until the backs of your legs hit against the bed’s edge. Only then does he help you, hooking his hands underneath the plump of your ass and lifting you up, never once breaking the kiss.  

You pull back to inhale greedily, biting your lips together as Choso’s hands wander over the fabric of your dress, fingertips just barely grazing your skin in a way that has you shivering.  

“Mine,” he growls against you, bending his head down to press featherlight kisses against your neck, sucking at your pulse point and feeling himself smirk at your back arching in response. Your body pushes itself further into Choso’s arms — a feeling that he would never get used to but wholeheartedly appreciated.  

He pulls his lips back from your neck — that earns him a disappointed moan. Choso’s eyes flicker to meet yours, pants straining at the half-lidded look that you give him, pupils lust-blown and chest rising and falling in panted breaths.  

With you sitting on the bed and Choso standing in front of you, it grants him easy access to what he wants most. He leans forward to peck your lips again, once again feeling his pants strain at the way your mouth chases his when he pulls back from you.  

He lowers himself to his knees in front of you, sending you one last glance before his fingers push up your dress. You let out a small sigh, glancing down at Choso. 

At this point, you didn’t even mind the fact that you were forty-five minutes late. 

Yay requests time!

Can we get bratty!mean!reader with simp/lover boy yuuta or yuuji? Like, reader is always rolling her eyes or ordering him around and he just looks at her with heart yes and does as she wants. But obviously, everyone has their limits so sometimes they need to reel her back in and let her know that's nothing you treat someone that you love and loves you even more.

i dont know if you can tell but I'm getting brain rot about this and it's all I'm thinking about every night.

Sypnosis - How would !Loverboy Yuuji fare with a girlfriend who quite literally would step on him?

Warning(s) - foul language, mention of canon violence, Reader is kind of a bitch (but she does a 180 I promise)

A/N - !Loverboy Yuuji enjoyers rise up, I crafted this just for y'all.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

To be fair, when Yuuji falls in love, he falls in love hard. Loving Yuuji is the equivalent of adopting a golden retriever that will be perpetually stuck to your side in any given circumstance. And that means any circumstance — including if you’re working to exorcise a spirit. Yuuji just wants — or rather needs — to be by your side no matter what.  

Yuuji is also the kind of person to blindly follow orders. He doesn’t really have any regards for any consequences that may follow his actions — which has definitely resulted in multiple visits to Shoko. That, of course, includes any and all orders that you give him.  

Obviously, your “orders” aren’t as dire as, say, instructions given by Gojo before he sends Yuuji on a mission. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll show even an ounce of thought or hesitance. He does — quite literally — anything and everything for you. That includes carrying your backpack, carrying your bags when you shop, cutting your food when you have dinner together, tucking you in when you have move nights, buttoning you jacket when it’s cold outside, literally everything. 

Does he care that sometimes your tone gets a little snippy with him when you ask him to do something for you? No. Does he care that you scold him if he does something wrong? No. Does he care that you roll your eyes at him when you catch him staring? No.  

Because at the end of the day, you mean more to Yuuji than anything else. He can handle Cursed Spirits that can — and honestly have — ripped him limb from limb. Surely he can handle a bit of eye-rolling from his beautiful girlfriend. 

Megumi and Nobara can’t help but tease Yuuji for his behaviors, Nobara more so than Megumi. She just enjoys pointing out the fact that you could tell Yuuji to jump and he would reply back with, “How high?” 

But that doesn’t mean that they don’t see the small points of toxicity that peek through your actions. Sure, it was sweet that Yuuji would be willing to do anything and everything for you — but it felt like the things that Yuuji was doing went unreciprocated. 

It was Nobara then that approached you because, in all honesty, Yuuji was one of her closest friends. And she would be damned if she was going to stand by and just watch as he was treated like someone’s lap dog. Don’t get her wrong, she loves and adores you too, but she can see where people’s toxic traits lie.  

She ends up pulling you aside following one of your training sessions together, noticing in her peripheral the way that Yuuji pauses upon seeing you be dragged away by Nobara. You don’t protest to her actions, allowing your classmate to drag you underneath the school’s entry archway. Nobara keeps her fingers locked around your wrist as she inhales deeply, not wanting her emotions to accidentally get the better of her — the last thing that she needed was for you to get cross with her. You were deadly in that regard after all. 

“(Y/N), listen to me, yeah? You’re an amazing person, and I know that you likely don’t mean to come off as brash or as harsh as you sometimes do, but we all notice. And by ‘we all’, I mean me and Fushiguro. Yuuji is — for lack of a better word — devoted to you, he loves you a whole lot ‘kay? Again, I know that you don’t mean to be rude to him sometimes, but that’s what we all see. So try and lay off of the eye rolling, yeah?” 

Nobara smiles once she’s finished speaking, releasing the grip that she had on your wrist and placing both of her hands on her hips. You stand there in silence for a moment, mulling her words over in your head before reflecting on all that you had ever said and done to Yuuji. 

You realize at that moment that Nobara was right — Yuuji had only ever been kind and loving to you. And you were just…bitchy right back. You felt like slapping yourself across the face, how could you have let that behavior go on for so long?  

“God — you’re right Nobara. I’ve been — I’ve been pretty terrible haven’t I?” 

After that conversation with Nobara, you begin to plan in your head how to make it up to Yuuji — starting with his favorite snacks and movie series. Your dorm is suddenly nothing but blankets and pillow forts, adorned with the string lights that you usually kept your room decorated with. On the television is the selection screen for the Deluxe Edition of the Human Earthworm movies — which you knew were Yuuji’s absolute favorite.  

Once you finished setting everything up, you text Yuuji to swing by your dorm — which he agrees to without hesitation. Within five minutes of sending the text, Yuuji is knocking repeatedly at the door, smiling widely when you pull it open. You invite him inside, placing your palms over his eyes and repeating that you had a surprise for him.  

You lead him to the pillow/blanket fort set up in front of the small television in your dormitory, guiding him to sit down. You take a seat beside him, removing your hands from his eyes and presenting your little movie setup with a grand flourish of your hands.  

“You did all of this for me?”  

“Yeah — think of it as an apology for me being so demanding of you all the time.” 

Yuuji turns to you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you firmly to his chest, tucking you into him and burying his nose into your hair. You nestle yourself in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling to yourself as he holds you.  

After a good five minutes of sitting in Yuuji’s arms, you disconnect yourself to play the first Human Earthworm movie, smiling as Yuuji excitedly begins to ramble. 

With a lovesick smile of your own, you settle in with your boyfriend, nibbling on your snacks and simply enjoying his company.  

HII!! I saw you had your requests open for jjk, so can i request a megumi fic with a reader who went to the same middle school as him but was being bullied? And thats why megumi would always get in fights? Thank you!! ❤️

Sypnosis - Contrary to popular belief, there were very few things in the world that Megumi liked. One of those things happened to be you.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Megumi is a little shit, insecurities

A/N - Casually making this fic follow the "I hate everyone but you" trope, don't mind me.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Groaning lightly, you continue to hold the ice pack over your blackened eye per the nurse's request. The cold does little to help with the dull pain, but considering that it was your fifth black eye that month, there was really nothing else that the nurse could do. She was sick of seeing you so often anyway. 

You shift uncomfortably in the too-small seat of the nurse's office, looking around at the two other students that sit in the office with you. Neither of them make eye contact with you – not that it bothers you in the slightest.  

Still lost in thought, you adjust the ice pack against your eye, feeling the skin beneath it slowly going numb at the cold sensation. It feels soothing enough, and it helps in distracting you from the dull ache that your black eye gives off.  

Your ears perk at the sound of the door to the office opening, expecting it to be another student looking for a remedy for some injury or a pass to skip their next class. But it’s neither of the two; it’s Megumi. 

“Fushiguro?” you ask with a perk of your eyebrow, eyeing him curiously as he crosses the room to you. His hands reach out, ripping the ice pack away from your eye. “Hey-!” 

“Stupid ass,” he mutters, inspecting your injury with his lip curled upward. His other hand holds your cheek, tilting your head left and right — likely inspecting to see if you had sustained any other injuries.  

“Nice to see you too,” you mutter sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Megumi places the ice pack against your eye again. You hiss at the sudden cold, and for a moment you can see a flicker of regret over Megumi’s expression.  

He ignores your sarcastic quip, turning his body halfway and dragging an empty seat behind him, lowering himself into it.  

“What happened this time?” he asks you, his voice low so that none of the other students in the office can overhear.  

“Nothin’, just some guys — you know how it is,” you answer truthfully, adjusting the ice pack. You can feel it already melting against your face — you’d have to change it in a little bit. 

Megumi lets out a small “tch”, his eyes glazing over with an anger that you were all too familiar with. You already knew what he was planning — or rather, who he was planning to beat within an inch of their life.  

“I’m gonna-“ 

“Can you not this time?” you cut him off. His gaze flickers to yours, stunned at your sudden boldness.  

“What?” You almost laugh at how genuinely confused he sounds, but you keep that same stern look on your face. You didn’t want to be the reason why someone went home with a broken nose — or worse.  

“I said, can you not this time? I don’t wanna be targeted again because you decided to thrash someone’s face in,” you explain, trying to keep your tone as level as possible. Megumi only stares back at you, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted another head.  

“I — was just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, already feeling an unfamiliar heat rise to his cheeks.  

With another roll of your eyes, you reach a hand out, placing it on top of his head and smiling at him. His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. 

“And I appreciate it. But it gets you in trouble,” you remind him. Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but oddly enough, he also smiles. 

“Yeah, yeah. But are you okay?” 

You nod, smiling and removing the ice pack from your eye. He winces at the sight of it, but he doesn’t comment. 

“I’m fine. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

The tips of his ears burn pink — but you would never say anything about it. Your odd little protector.