Singledad! Nanami Having The Hots For Yujis Kindergarten Teacher Who Has The Tendency To Overwork Herself

singledad! nanami having the hots for yuji’s kindergarten teacher who has the tendency to overwork herself to the bone in the name of her precious students

he gets her to unwind with him 🫣 they fuck LMAOOOLLL

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Pairing - !SingleDad Nanami x !Kindergarten Teacher Reader

Warning(s) - None besides some foul language.

Word Count - 2.6k

A/N - Hi, yes, okay, I know the request had a smut element to it, but I took a fluffy route. If you want a part two that has that smut element or an alternate version that focuses on that smut element, please send me a request and I will get to it as quickly as I can! But I hope you enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

ENCOUNTER 1 : 

“There! He’s over there!” Yuuji says happily, his grip over your hand tightening as he points to a blonde-haired man standing in the crowd of awaiting parents. You follow his gaze, smiling kindly as the man lifts his hand in a wave, grinning at both you and Yuuji.  

“Alright, off you go then,” you smile down at Yuuji, releasing his hand and watching as the six-year-old toddles over to his father, wrapping his arms around the taller man’s leg and smiling widely up at him. His father stands straight, waving once more to you before vanishing into the crowd. 

ENCOUNTER 2 : 

"Mr. Nanami, correct?" You cast a glance down at your clipboard before your gaze returns to the blonde male standing in front of you. He nods, smiling apologetically as Yuuji tugs once again on his arm, trying his hardest to get his father's attention. "You can both come inside." 

Nanami smiles again as he walks past you, taking a seat on the too-small chairs that you had set up in the center of the classroom. His knees curl up to his chest, but he says nothing as you sit in front of him, smiling first at Yuuji before your gaze shifts to settle on him.  

"Yuuji is an absolute pleasure to have in class. He's very helpful with others and myself, he focuses on each task he's given – he's a very gifted student," you explain, lifting up the pages on your clipboard and smiling as Yuuji's toothy grin widens, gleeful with the praise you were giving him.  

"Is that so? I'm very glad to hear that," Nanami nods, turning then to Yuuji and placing a palm over the top of his head. The six-year-old giggles, leaning into his father's touch with a closed-eye smile.  

You watch the interaction with a gentle smile of your own, fingers releasing their hold on the papers of your clipboard and listening as they quietly fall into place.  

ENCOUNTER 3 : 

"Papa, look! It's Miss (Y/N)," Yuuji bubbles happily, tugging on Nanami's pant leg and pointing in the direction that he had seen you. Curious, Nanami allows his gaze to follow Yuuji's finger – the scolding he wanted to give about pointing falling dead in his throat.  

You're preoccupied with whatever shopping list is curled between your fingers, lips pressed firmly together in thought as you struggle to decide which brand of potato chips to buy. Nanami can't help but silently admire you from his place farther down the same aisle. His lips tug upward in a soft smile – maybe one day he would have enough courage to stride up to you. 

ENCOUNTER 4 : 

"Oh, hello. Did Yuuji forget something at home?" you inquire curiously, raising an eyebrow as a very disheveled Nanami straightens himself out in front of you. His fingers fiddle with his tie, trying to make it look a touch more presentable – but to no avail.  

"I apologize for my appearance, this morning has been hectic. But yes, Yuuji accidentally left his lunchbox," Nanami answers, holding up the small metal lunchbox decorated with superhero stickers – some scratched and some brand new.  

You smile gently at him, reaching out to take the lunchbox from his fingers. "Don't worry, we all have those mornings," you say reassuringly, chuckling gently at Nanami. He returns your smile, cheeks warming at the lingering feeling that your fingers had left behind.  

ENCOUNTER 5 :  

"Hey, isn't that Yuuji's teacher?" Gojo asks, lifting his index finger to point across the bar. Nanami's eyes follow Gojo's finger – which then widen at the sight of you mingling with a few friends, nursing a fruity cocktail in your hand.  

Nanami hums in response, trying his hardest to return his attention to his drink, but your outfit is much too tight, pushing up exactly what needs to be pushed up and making your figure just that much more attractive. Behind his eyeglasses, his gaze roams up and down the dips and curves of your body, his lips quirking up in tune with his wandering eyes.  

"Yeah, it is," he mutters offhandedly, lifting his glass to his lips and resting it against the skin there. Gojo smirks, lowering his finger before standing from his place at the bar. Nanami's eyebrows pinch together in curiosity, watching the snowy-haired male swagger his way across the bar – not stopping until he reaches where you stand with your friends, then throwing a slender arm over your shoulders.  

The once loose grip Nanami had over his glass is replaced by a tight curl of his fingers, one that could surely shatter the glass should he apply the right amount of pressure. His eyes narrow in an almost predatory manner – watching as Gojo smiles at both you and the friends that had come along with you.  

You return his smile and laugh at the cheesy jokes that he throws your way, but Nanami can see the hint of discomfort that lies behind the curl of your lips. Oh, so that was Gojo's plan. 

Downing the rest of the whiskey in his glass, Nanami stands from his place at the bar, striding across the small space until he stands just a few inches away from you, your friends, and Gojo – the latter of whom is wearing that shit-eating grin he always wears when his plans work out just the way that he wanted them to.  

"Oh! Mr. Nanami! I didn't expect to see you out here," you say, turning quickly to glance at the blonde as he wanders into your line of vision. Your smile, once uncomfortable and forced, was now that same smile that you flashed at him when you noticed him at dismissal. "It's nice to see you." 

Nanami's cheeks heat, and he silently thanks the bar for being so dim, its lighting hiding the gentle pink hue that imbues over his face. "It's nice to see you as well Miss (Y/N)," Nanami nods at you, feeling himself smile as you shift an inch closer to him.  

"Oh, would you like to join me at the bar? Your friends can as well, if they'd like," Nanami offers, shooting Gojo a pointed glare. Gojo only smirks, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. That bastard. 

You glance to your friend, who nods encouragingly at you. You turn back to Nanami, smiling at his offer and reaching a hand out to squeeze his arm – your touch lights a small fire underneath his skin, one that he most certainly does not complain about.  

"We'd love to, thank you." 

ENCOUNTER 6 : 

"Where's your father Yuuji?" Your voice is a quiet mumble, your fingers still closed around Yuuji's as the both of your gazes sift through the crowd of awaiting parents – and yet Nanami is nowhere to be seen. The pink-haired boy sinks back onto his heels, a saddened look falling over his face as he leans into your side.  

"I don't know," he mumbles in response, his eyes already glossing over with tears. You soften, kneeling down to be at eye-level with the boy and smiling as reassuringly as you can at him. "Did he forget me?" 

You shake your head quickly, squeezing the tiny hand that still rests in yours. Yuuji sniffles, his cheeks puffing out in an adorable pout. "No! No honey, your father did not forget you. It could just be that work is keeping him a little later." 

Seemingly satisfied with your explanation, Yuuji nods, rubbing his free hand against his tear-filled eyes, sniffling. You smile again, squeezing his fingers before guiding him back to the entrance of your classroom.  

He follows, sitting down at his seat and taking the coloring sheets and colored pencils that you offer him, already scribbling away at the black-and-white monkey that laid in front of him. You take the seat at his left, feeling your heart warm as Yuuji tilts the sheet towards you – a silent invite for you to color with him.  

You take one of the colored pencils that he offers you, coloring in a small section of the page and occasionally looking up to your classroom door – where the hell was Nanami?  

"Wait here for a moment Yuuji, I'm going to call your father, okay?" You lift a hand to ruffle the boy's hair, smiling at him before silently moving towards the chorded phone tucked into the corner of your classroom, located just behind your desk.  

Just as you finish dialing in the now familiar number, the door to your classroom opens, revealing a disheveled Nanami. He leans quietly against the doorframe for a moment, catching his breath before Yuuji turns, smiling widely at the sight of his father.  

"Papa!" 

You turn from where you stand beside the phone, smiling in relief as you watch Yuuji bound up to Nanami, wrapping his little arms halfway around his father's legs.  

"There you are. I have to admit, I was getting a little worried about you," you admit with a smile, waving to Nanami as you walk closer to the pair, watching through softened eyes as Yuuji reaches for his completed coloring page, wanting to show his father.  

"I apologize for my lateness. I had not expected my office to keep me as late as they did," Nanami apologizes, bowing his head at you. You wave him off, then folding your fingers together in front of you.  

"It's not an issue at all. Though you did give Yuuji quite the scare," you admit, not failing to notice the way that Nanami's smile fades for a quick moment, but returns when Yuuji lifts his coloring page up to him.  

"Oh," he hums, turning to Yuuji and laying a palm against the youngster's head, lovingly ruffling his hair. "I apologize Yuuji, I didn’t mean to frighten you." 

"It's okay Papa! Miss (Y/N) and I colored together!" Yuuji bubbles, his eyes crinkling in a wide smile as his eyes momentarily flicker to you. "See? I made this one look like you." 

Nanami smiles fondly, then turning to you and once again mouthing his thanks. You merely wave him off, watching with a smile of your own as Yuuji continues to explain each little character that he had colored in.  

ENCOUNTER 7 : 

"Good morning Miss (Y/N)!" Yuuji exclaims happily, smiling brightly up at you as Nanami leads him forward, releasing the little boy's hand as he tugs his father towards you.  

Biting back the yawn that rises in your throat, you will yourself to smile back at your student, waving politely at him and watching through half-lidded eyes as he lets go of Nanami's hand. He opens his mouth to question you, but is immediately distracted by the call of one of his friends.  

"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)," Nanami bows politely at you, one that you return clumsily. His eyebrows pinch together in a mixture of curiosity and concern – you weren't acting like your regular self. Your once bubbly attitude and bright greetings were replaced now by half-assed "good morning's" and small waves that carried none of your usual warmth.  

"Morning Mr. Nanami," you return, your smile wobbling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. It's then that he notices the exhaustion that weighs heavy on your eyelids, practically tugging them down to a point where you look as though you're about to fall asleep standing upright.  

"Are you feeling alright this morning?" 

"Oh yes, just tired is all," you wave off his concern, smiling once again at him before a comfortable yet uncomfortable silence falls over the both of you. "I'll be seeing you later?" 

"Yes, have a good day," Nanami smiles at you, his heart warming when you return it – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes that way that it would normally. You wave again at him as he walks off, then turning to your awaiting students and clapping your hands once together.  

ENCOUNTER 8 : 

"Oh! Miss (Y/N)! My papa wanted to talk to you after school today," Yuuji mentions to you, smiling as he glances up from the worksheet that he had been previously occupied with. Your eyebrows pinch together in intrigue, glancing down at the pink-haired boy and tilting your head at him.   

"Alright then, I'll be waiting for him," you reply with a kind smile, then continuing your routine check on the rest of your students, being sure that none of them were struggling with the work that you had handed out.  

< … > 

"Yuuji mentioned that you wanted to speak with me?"  

Nanami swallows the growing lump in his throat, suddenly feeling oddly choked up as you stand in front of him, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. His shirt feels tighter than before, the air surrounding him is suddenly hotter than it had been previously.  

"Yes – uhm – my apologies if I am taking up your time," Nanami begins, fiddling with his fingers and scratching at already existing hangnails, "but there is something that I wanted to ask of you." 

You smile kindly at him, a gentle laugh falling from your parted lips – a sound that Nanami wishes that he could commit to the very depths of his memory.  

"You're not wasting my time at all," you're quick to reassure him, your gaze momentarily flickering to Yuuji as he takes advantage of the empty classroom, organizing the books in your small-shelved library.  

Nanami inhales deeply, holding the breath in his chest and wondering if what he was about to ask would make you view him in a different light – though he sincerely hoped that you wouldn't.  

"I was wondering...and forgive me if this is too forward...if you would like to join me for coffee sometime this weekend?" His voice is dangerously quiet, a light shake to his voice as the fear of being rejected finally sinks into his bones – maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all.  

Your laughter dies down, fading completely as you stare at Nanami – you certainly hadn't expected him to ask you that.  

Just as Nanami opens his mouth to apologize again, you cut him off.  

"I'd love to." 

With cheeks dusted pink and a smile that could only be compared to a lovesick fool, Nanami glances up at you, feeling his chest warm at the sight of your dimpled cheeks and crinkled eyes.  

< ... > 

"So that's how you and Papa fell in love?" Yuuji tilts his head curiously, biting back his yawn as he nestles further into his comforters. You smile gently at him, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle his hair, threading your fingers through his pink locks.  

"That's exactly how Papa and I fell in love. He took me for coffee that very weekend, and the rest is history," you recall with a lovesick smile plastered onto your face. Yuuji smiles sleepily, a sight that you mentally commit to memory.  

"I'm happy you and Papa met," Yuuji whispers adorably, yawning again before his heavy eyes finally flutter shut, exhaustion taking over him. You smile again, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss against his forehead before you stand from his bed. 

You turn your head, jumping at the sight of Nanami standing in the doorframe to Yuuji's bedroom, leaning against it with crossed arms and a gentle smile on his face. "How long were you there for?" Your voice is almost accusatory as you walk into your husband's arms, resting your own around his neck and tracing your fingernails along his nape.  

"Long enough to hear you retell that story for – what – the eighty-fifth time?" Nanami perks an eyebrow at you, leaning down to slot his lips against yours. You hum against his mouth, tugging him a bit closer and biting playfully at his bottom lip.  

He pulls away after a moment, the tip of his nose affectionately brushing against your own, his large hands squeezing playfully at your waist.  

"And every time I tell it, you hang off of my every word, don't you?"  

Nanami smiles, his lips ghosting over your own as he tugs you impossibly closer, your chest pressed flush against his own.  

"That I do." 

Can we pretty please have Sukuna reacting to his crush telling him that thier lover cheated on them. Like the reader has been in a relationship with this person for a few months.

Would he comfort her? At all?

Also can I be‼️ anon

Sypnosis - He may be heartless, that doesn't mean he'll stand silently by and watch as you get yours broken.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Sukuna is nice for once (?)

A/N - First time ever writing for Sukuna -- wish me luck! And yes, you can be that anon, I love you guys.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Brat, wipe those tears, you look pathetic," Sukuna says coldly, sneering at the sight of your tears running down your cheeks. You quickly lift your wrist, roughly rubbing the water from your eyes and turning yourself away from him.  

At the sight of you turning, oddly enough, he feels a strange sensation somewhere in his chest – what was it though? All he knew was that it wasn't anger, no, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at you in that moment (shockingly).  

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt to silence your sobs, but the action does very little to prevent the shaking of your body. Sukuna notices, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.  

His head tilts at you; you had come to Yuuji asking for a movie night and snacks, which wasn't out of the ordinary. But what was out of the ordinary was that you showed up on Yuuji's doorstep crying.  

The fact that Yuuji relinquished control to Sukuna so easily was also shocking – but Sukuna was never one to complain about having control over what was rightfully his vessel.  

He lets out a small "tch" at your apology, turning himself away from you and crossing his arms over his chest. Some part of him wants to turn back around and inquire about what had happened – but at the same time he could genuinely care less. 

You remain silent in your place on the couch, knees curled up to your chest as you keep your watery eyes focused on the television, which plays a repeat of an old rom-com that you mentioned that you enjoyed. But from what Sukuna could see, the sight of the two main leads being happily in love is only worsening your mood – but why? 

Usually you would be smiling and chipper, pointing out everything that the male lead did for the female with a too-sweet smile plastered onto your face. But now you were just staring at the screen with a look that Sukuna couldn't describe – and he despised it.  

`"What's going on? You're never this silent, I detest it," Sukuna comments, angrily scrunching his nose as he turns sharply to glance at you. Your hands tighten over your knees, eyebrows pinching together as you bite back the fresh round of tears that cling to your lash line.  

"Nothin' happened. Jus' wanted to come over and watch a movie," you lie through your teeth, voice slightly muffled from where you keep your mouth pressed against your clothed legs. Sukuna clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, glaring at you.  

"Liar." 

"I'm not lying." 

"You are. I only know because you're fucking terrible at it," Sukuna spits, furrowing his eyebrows together in frustration as you look away from him again. Your eyes water, and you lift your wrist to swipe away the tears before they have the chance to fall – remembering what Sukuna had just said about them rendering you 'pathetic'.  

"Nothin' happened. Even if something did, why would it matter to you?" Your voice is laced with a bitterness that Sukuna hadn't heard in you before – and honestly, he didn't think that you were capable of sounding so cold.  

"It doesn't. I just don't wanna deal with your sulking," Sukuna rolls his eyes, resting his cheek against his knuckles as he sneaks another glance at you. You seem to sink further into the couch – there's that sensation again. What the fuck was it? 

You remain silent, keeping your eyes fixed on the movie, which is nearing its conclusion. The male lead tenderly reaches for the female, holding her face and steering her lips to his own. Sukuna notices your nails digging into your legs, no doubt leaving behind angry red marks that you would complain about later.  

"So talk." 

You glance at Sukuna, narrowing your eyes at the unfamiliar tenderness that flickers in his irises. Your eyes involuntarily water, eyebrows furrowing together as you look back to the television screen.  

"Nothin'. My boyfriend – he just, y'know, got bored of me. Guess my best friend looked better," you explain offhandedly, obviously trying to downplay the situation for the sake of not working yourself up. But Sukuna could tell that the situation deeply bothered you, judging by the way you blink back your tears and curl your arms impossibly tighter around your legs.  

Sukuna's hands subconsciously curl into white-knuckled fists, anger flaring up in his chest as he mulls your words over in his head. He shocks himself – why did he care so much about what happened to you? Why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to strangle the life out of your now ex-boyfriend? 

"He what?" Sukuna all but growls, turning his head to settle all of his attention on you. You, however, don't spare him another glance, not wanting to see his mocking expression or the smirk that he's most definitely wearing in response to your sadness.  

A shame that if you had looked up, you would see the genuine anger that Sukuna displays.  

"Wasn't slick about it either, but it's whatever," you say with faux indifference, shrugging your shoulders. You sigh shakily, tears slipping down your cheeks as the movie in front of you ends. "It's whatever Sukuna." 

"It can't be whatever if you're staining the couch with tears," Sukuna bites back, glaring at you – though his anger is very clearly directed elsewhere. You let out a shaky sigh through your nose, not wanting to discuss the situation further.  

"Well it is whatever, so fucking drop it," you growl out, voice wavering slightly as you reach for the television remote, flicking through channels until you land on some random documentary, opting to leave it on for background noise. 

Sukuna grumbles something incoherent, lifting his legs to cross them over one another as he sits silently on the couch across from you. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to sneak glances at you, taking mental notes of your body language and facial expressions.  

"I'm...sorry that he did that to you," Sukuna grumbles out, his voice at a volume that you nearly miss. The tenderness in his voice is so foreign, but at the same it sounds so natural coming from him – almost like he had rehearsed this very scene a thousand times over in his head.  

You sit there stunned for a moment, not having expected Sukuna to be offering you his condolences. In truth, you didn't need them, nor did you want them – but the fact that he had softened up for a passing moment to say those words to you brought a little bought of warmth to your stomach.  

"It's whatever," you say again, this time with a bit more indifference than before. Sukuna finds himself smirking, which he tries to hide but to no real avail – you catch it just before it fades away.  

He'll pay your ex-boyfriend a visit later, right now, he wants you to keep that barely there smile on your face. 

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. 

SCREW SOFT DOM GOJO, I WANT AN AGGRESSIVE DOM GOJO WHO WILL TEAR APART MY BODY (in the nicest way possible 🎀)

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - This is, again, just straight fucking smut.

Note - Anon. You are so real for this.

Read the Soft Dom version here!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who seems to be a completely different person the moment that your bedroom door is shut. Calloused hands roam your body, fingers pinching almost meanly at your curves. In that moment, as his lips attack your own in a flurry of hungry kisses that leave you flustered and completely breathless.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who lifts you by your hips and all but throws you onto the sheets like a ragdoll — one shaped purely for his own pleasure. You could tell by the rapid rising and falling of his chest that you would likely not leave that bed for hours, not until Gojo was done with you of course.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who is just downright mean to you. His usually featherlight and affectionate kisses to your neck are replaced by rough suckling and bites that no doubt leave behind marks for you to find in the morning. Your little gasps and pants are caught quickly by Gojo’s lips, delivering yet another hungry kiss that has your head positively spinning. 

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who continues to leave bruises and bite marks against your skin as his lips trail downward, taking one of your tits into his mouth and swirling his tongue over your already hardened nipple. He sinks his teeth into the plush skin, lifting his head upward and smirking at the shocked moan that you let out, back arching off of the sheets.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who helps you shimmy out of your pants before running a thin finger over your clothed pussy, swirling the tip of his index finger over your clit and smirking to himself at the little jolts of your body — back lifting off of the bed with each little touch. He turns his wrist, thumb pressing against your clit and rubbing quickened circles against it, smirking at the desperate pants and whines that fall from your parted lips.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who only removes your panties when you’re a whining, drooling mess. A thin line of your own saliva is trickling down from the corner of your mouth, soft pants falling from your lips as you peer down at Gojo through lust-blown eyes. He stares back at you, mentally committing the sight to memory and smirking again, pressing his palm flat against your still-clothed pussy — that earns him another desperate little “Satoru!” 

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who finally…finally licks a stripe up your pussy, deciding to tease even further and avoid your clit. He’ll focus on swirling the tip of his tongue over your entrance, smirking as you whine and attempt to buck your hips up to get some kind of friction against the neglected bundle of nerves. He only wraps an arm over your hips, pushing you back down onto the bed and clicking his tongue at you. 

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who then eats you out with a hunger that — while not unusual — still felt just downright mean. His tongue bullies both your clit and your entrance, alternating between the two just when he feels your legs begin to shake against his head, thighs clamping around his ears as you try to push him away. But you don't win, and you won't ever win...not tonight anyway.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who continues to eat you out even as your fingers try to push him away and as desperate pleas of "too much" and "too sensitive" fall from your parted lips. Instead of listening to your pleas like he would any other night, Gojo only presses his palms against your legs, parting them further to allow himself better access to you, suckling on your clit and smirking at the way that your head falls back against the pillows.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who straight bullies your cunt once he bottoms out in you, hands gripping at your hips and no doubt leaving behind bruises for him to admire in the morning. His hips snap into your own, setting the rough pace and not letting up for even a single second – not that you mind, honestly.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who covers your mouth with his palm, silencing your moans and continuing to thrust into you at an unrelenting pace, his hips slapping against yours. Your back arches impossibly further off of the bed, body spasming as that familiar knot in your stomach begins to coil tighter and tighter.  

!Aggressive Dom Gojo who fucks you through your orgasm, reaching a hand down to rub your clit in quickened circles. His head bends down to whisper dirty nothings into your ears, referring to you as "his good girl" as your body continues to spasm with the shocks of your orgasm. Internally, he debates on continuing, bordering on overstimulating you but deciding against it as your moans morph into pathetic little whines – perhaps another time.  

We <3 any and all forms of Gojo in this house.  

Everything was perfect. 

"You may kiss the bride." 

Your rosy lips turn upward in a lovesick smile, arms lifting to wrap around Gojo's neck and bring his face closer to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against one another as his arms loop around your waist. With one hand, he holds your waist, and with the other, he slowly begins to lift your leg, hooking it over his hip and dipping you down.  

You let out a tearful giggle, the sound mixing with Gojo's chuckle as he slots his lips against yours, pouring years of love and adoration into a singular kiss. You squeeze your arms around him to steady yourself, smiling against his lips as they move against your own.  

You pull back from him just as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, no doubt wanting to shamelessly make out with you in front of an audience. But with your family sitting somewhere in the crowd, one of you had to demonstrate self-control.  

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo," Gojo whispers, his breath fanning over your lips as he continues to hold you close. You dive forward, pecking his lips again. He smiles at you, tearful aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares down at you; his little wife. 

Everything was perfect. 

"I'm home!" Gojo announces as he kicks his shoes off, turning his body halfway to close the front door and peering around the dim-lighted living room. His eyebrows furrow, arms slapping against his sides as he realizes that you're not running to him to embrace him.  

Slowly, he walks further into the house, curiously peering into the kitchen only to be met with the sight of nothing. Worry sinks into his chest, but he doesn't allow himself to get worked up just yet.  

"Honey?" Gojo's voice is a quiet whisper as he enters the living room, eyes met with a heartwarming sight; you're sat in the center of the couch, arms wound around a sleeping Megumi. The boy leans impossibly further into your side, his head tucked comfortably into the crook of your neck with his body splayed over your own like a weighted blanket.  

His lips turn upward in a soft smile, hand reaching for his phone to photograph the moment and commit it to memory. But just as his fingers brush his phone, something tells him to instead live in the moment as opposed to capturing it.  

Gojo moves to kneel silently beside the couch, reaching out his index finger and lovingly stroking it against your cheek, smiling to himself as your nose scrunches up and you stir slightly. Those eyes that he could spend hours gazing into flutter open, a sleepy smile curling the corners of your lips upward.  

"Hi 'Toru," you whisper, yawning.  

"Hi pretty girl." 

Everything was perfect. 

"Satoru Gojo!" 

Gojo pauses, every bone in his body stilling as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, swallowing his pride (and dignity) as you stomp over, Megumi not far behind. Gojo glances quickly at Yuuji and Nobara, silently asking them for help – but immediately the two first-years look around, not wanting to stand in the way of your wrath.  

"Hey honey," Gojo says with a smile, already feeling sweat build up against his forehead as you grow closer, eyes flaring with an anger that he had only ever seen once before – and honestly, he had no idea how he had even survived. "What's – uh – what's going on?" 

"What's going on?! You mean to tell me that you're going to stand there and act like nothing is wrong?" Your voice raises an octave or two in volume, making Gojo cringe and shrink in on himself. It was almost entertaining, really. Watching the 6'3 Special Grade Sorcerer be reduced to a shaking mess at the sight of his angered wife.  

Gojo remains silent, not wanting to respond in the fear that you would bite his head off.  

The staring contest between yourself and Gojo is tense, only made worse by the other pairs of eyes that watch quietly from the sidelines.  

Yuuji shifts closer to Megumi, craning his neck just low enough to whisper into his ear, "What's going on?" 

Megumi only smirks, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. "He ate her leftovers last night." 

Everything was perfect... 

"I understand that your work is important, but you're barely home anymore," you say desperately, closing Megumi's bedroom door and turning on your heel to glance at Gojo. He rubs his hands against his face, skin catching the groan that falls from his lips. 

"I can't just say no to what the higher-ups want me to do, honey. You know that," Gojo responds, not failing to notice how your teeth catch your bottom lip, roughly biting down into the supple skin.  

"You have a family here 'Toru. Your missions are getting more and more dangerous and I – I don't want to be sitting on the couch one day and you just," you pause to swallow the growing lump in your throat, "don't come home." 

Gojo softens, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares silently down at you. Your eyes shine with tears, tears that he desperately wants to reach out and brush away – but something inside of him tells him not to.  

"Megumi needs you here. Hell, I need you here," you say desperately, laying a palm flat against your chest as you step forward to close the distance between yourself and Gojo.  

Something inside you damn near breaks as your husband takes a step back from you.  

"I know. Trust me I know. But there's only so much I can do. They need me (Y/N)," Gojo says. Immediately – the moment that those words fall from his lips – he wishes that he could fucking swallow them.  

You freeze, body standing rigid as your eyes blankly stare at him. Any ounce of emotion, anything that might have made you human is suddenly gone, replaced instead by a robotic stare that chills Gojo down to his very core. 

Silently, you brush past him, shoulder knocking against his chest as you walk down the hallway and vanish into the living room. Gojo stares after you, turning his head towards Megumi's door and screwing his eyes shut – fuck.  

Everything was perfect...? 

"Megumi! Have you seen your mother?" Gojo asks, waving his hand wildly in the air as the raven-haired teenager turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in both annoyance and curiosity.  

"She just went out on a field mission, why?" 

Gojo's heart sinks, body deflating as he pockets the necklace that he had planned to give you; a heart locket with a picture from your wedding day inside of it. Megumi watches his adoptive father's shaking hands, and a pang of curiosity flows through his body, but he makes no mention of it.  

"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to give her something," Gojo answers dismissively, waving his hand at Megumi before he lets out a disappointed sigh.  

Everything was perfect? 

"I understand, I'll tell Shoko to prepare a bed now," Ichiji says with a swift nod, though it doesn't go unnoticed how he swallows the lump in his throat. He removes the phone from his ear, pressing down on its red "hang-up" button and stowing the device away in his pocket.  

Curiously, Gojo peers at the assistant manager through his blindfold, tilting his head curiously as the younger man stands from his seat, beelining for the door and disappearing into the hallway.  

The snowy-haired male stands, following closely behind Ichiji and watching as the man's back tenses, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists. What the fuck was going on? 

His breath catches in his throat as he enters the infirmary. One of the tables is occupied, the body covered by a thin white tarp that's stained with the blood of whoever lies underneath.  

Ichiji glances at Shoko, who only stares down at the stained tarp with a numb glint to her eyes. Her hand extends, fingers wrapping over the top of the tarp and lowering it to reveal who lies beneath.  

Gojo's stomach turns.  

Was everything perfect? 

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.