luvingjeanie

[luvingjeanie]

visualising gojo mistaking me (5’2) for geto (6’3) i have long black hair😭

gogo + “i thought you were my friend (geto) so i slapped your ass in greeting” ₊˚ෆ⊹.ᐟ

before you read. if it’s not obvious from the prompt, reader has long dark hair like geto's lol; dare i say pervert!gojo ?? 

It wasn’t your proudest moment, that was for sure. But in your defense, how else were you supposed to react when a random stranger you’ve never met randomly slapped your ass in the middle of the street?

You stared down at the man you had just judo flipped as he blinked in confusion, lying flat on his back.

“Hey,” you gritted out, “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

He raised his hands up in surrender. “I can explain. I wasn’t trying to slap your ass.”

You glared at the liar in disbelief. “I’m literally going to kick you—”

“Hey, hey now!” he got up swiftly, avoiding your swinging foot with ease.

Your eyes narrowed.

“Let’s not resort to violence,” he chastised, plastering a sickeningly angelic look on his face. Your eye twitched in annoyance. “From the back, I thought you were my friend. He hates it when I do that, so I wanted to annoy him.”

Folding your arms across your chest, you shifted your weight onto one leg and scowled at this white-haired pervert. “Sure, and I can fly.”

“I’m telling the truth! Look!”

You eyed him warily as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened up his camera roll.

“See, I thought you were this guy from the back. Suguru’s his name.” He pointed at a tall man with long, black hair wearing a billowy robe.

You blinked. The only similarity was literally the long, dark hair. Was this pervert seriously stupid? Or maybe just blind.

“Really?” you asked dryly. “Almost fifty percent of the entire population of Tokyo must have hair that shade and close to that length! Are you delusional? Or do you go around slapping everyone’s butts then?!”

The stranger shrank back at your scolding. “...No?”

You were ready to flip him onto his back all over again.

He squinted at his phone and glanced back at your body before saying, “Well, now that I look closer, I guess you don’t really look alike. Your ass looks way better.”

“What the fuck!?” you yelped in surprise. “You are really such a pervert!”

He chuckled loudly at your reaction. “Most people just call me Gojo, but I guess that works too.”

You shot him another disdainful glare. 

“Listen, let me make it up to you then,” the stranger—Gojo, apparently—offered.

“How? I’ll take one million yen in compensation, I suppose.”

“I’ll do you one better,” he sang, a smug grin on his face. “A date with me.”

You heard crickets chirp at your prolonged lack of response. Slowly, the smirk on Gojo’s face turned a little hesitant.

“Wow. You really are delusional,” you deadpanned. “As if I’d want to go on a date with you.”

He laughed, but pulled out a pen from his pocket. He held his hand out for you to place yours in it, but you only stared blankly at him. Gingerly, Gojo leaned down and began writing something on the back of your hand.

“Well, if you ever change your mind, give me a call,” he said, giving you an exaggerated wink before walking away.

“I won’t!” you called after him.

“You will,” said Gojo confidently, lifting his hand up and waving farewell. “Bye, now, cutie. I’ll talk to you soon!”

You glared at his back in complete and utter disbelief, but you felt the corners of your mouth quirk up against your better judgment. You looked at the number written on the back of your hand and exhaled a sharp laugh.

Were you going to call him?

Fuck it, maybe. Why not?

Ugh. This bastard was so lucky he was hot.

[luvingjeanie]

SEND IN REQUESTS FOR OHSHC PLS!!!

[luvingjeanie]

GUYS!!!! would ppl be interested in me writing a few hc’s or drabbles for ouran high school host club😔

i’ve fallen in love with tamaki again😔

[luvingjeanie]

hello <3 i hope we haven't clogged your inbox... i'd like to request one of your matchups, please (i never know how to ask for these things...) i'm fem, 21, looking for a male jjk matchup. most of all i would also like a song, whatever pops through your head, to listen to! i'm a bit distant and reticent, so i would do better with someone who would pursue and not mind my shyness. i can be very yielding once i decide to give in, but i'm afraid it'll be taken advantage of. sometimes people tell me i'm a bit cold, but if someone makes me feel safe, i'll be very warm and loving towards them (almost like a completely different person, lol). i don't do very well with direction or guidance since i'm a little stubborn, but i receive gentleness well and might be persuaded to change my ways with tenderness... and patience. i don't dislike people, even if they dislike me. i can have empathy problems sometimes, but i always try to help people when i can. i can be devoted without resentment. i would like someone who could teach me a thing or two, or just talk to me in a meaningful way. i like getting to the bottom of things, and long conversations don't scare me.

i feel like i'm at a confessional... so onward to more general things. i love to read, i love writing poetry, i love pressing flowers. i like really looking at things and understanding their forms and beauty. i like staying quiet and listening, i like putting my brain to work. traditional arts and culture mesmerise me. i love daydreaming and thinking about my experiences and the world around me.

ideal dates to me would be ones we stay inside, just basking in the presence of our home and each other, i would embroider, he would read. our everyday existence is as good as a date to me. looking out the window, listening to the city at dusk... maybe a city walk or a long night ride would be good... also, i grow my hair long, so i would really like moments where he could play with my hair and just talk to me about anything.

one last thing... thank you for doing this, even if you don't fill this. i know matchups are the hardest of all writing prompts and you're basically doing borderline thankless work for the pleasure of others only. knowing that most of your creative energy goes towards others is an impossibly generous thing to me. i hope even one of these asks touches your creativity in a constructive manner. again, thank you so much!

thank you for that last little paragraph, it means a lot. i’m glad you appreciate my efforts :,)

your jjk match is nanamin kento!!!

now playing i thought i saw your face today by she & him…

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

✮ kento never thought he would settle down, not that he didn’t want to, but because his life style wouldn’t allow it. first, he was busy with his salary man job, money minded for far too long, set on leaving Japan and living a quiet, peaceful life with the only issue in his life being debating on what to make for dinner. next, it was re-entering the world of Jujutsu sorcery, not only was he busy again, but he lived a life of risk and danger, and to him, it simply wouldn’t be fair to introduce a parter to that world, especially a non-sorcerer. kento may be a stoic man, too serious for his own good, but he cared. god, he fucking cared. the idea of falling in love, settling down, building a home with someone, only to possibly not come home one day, leaving his partner alone killed him.

✮ but you came into his life. you met casually, not an adorable, yet embarrassing meet-cute, nor anything dramatic and theatre worthy, but normal. you were normal. and it struck him in the strangest of ways. his heart pounded, his eyes softened, and his reserve faltered.

✮ things happened slow, small, friendly chats when you both would meet at random during your weekly shopping at the market you both frequented, then these meet ups became intentional, slowly turning into dates.

✮ always with flowers, and if you preferred to stay home that night a bottle of wine, a book he thought you’d like, or some pastries.

✮ when your relationship turned exclusive, official, he was yours and you were his, there was a talk. a promise, an oath

✮ he spoke to you about the truth of his job, not caring of if he was supposed to or not, and the dangers. he spoke slow and gentle, understanding that to a non-sorcerer, he might seem crazy.

✮ but you understood. you believed him without question because you knew kento. and he was gone, in that moment, he knew he was in love. your kind demeanour, the fact you listened and trusted, it took him completely.

✮ kento has a routine, and your quiet nature fits into it perfectly, but he didn’t want you to fit in, he wanted you to be apart of it. so, the day you moved in together, he left being a sorcerer once again.

✮ i personally think kento would happily abandon sorcery (he hates it, so it wasn’t a difficult decision to make) once he found his forever partner.

✮ a lovely home, a doting partner, quiet nights, hoke cooked dinners, it’s all he’d ever wanted, so who was he to say no to fate?

✮ date nights are simple, but not at all boring or meaningless. a home cooked, hearty meal over a glass of wine, followed by silent living room activities. you embroider on the couch whilst he reads, periodically looking over to your little project and earnestly compliment your work and your talents, or updating you on what was happening in his book every now and then

✮ he also loves board games!!! you play many together, it’s difficult finding some that are entertaining with two players, but you two manage, and you actually hear him heartily laugh, a rumble from deep in his chest. it’s a rare, but utterly beautiful sound

✮ you’re also absolutely a couple that has ‘your’ TV shows. Shows that you cannot watch without the other present, watching an episode alone is absolutely forbidden, it would be a complete and utter betrayal.

✮ nights you watch this show, you can absolutely expect to have Kento arrive home from work with take out and your favourite snacks, there’s absolutely no cooking on TV night. who has the time for all of that plus dishes?

✮ he’d love BBC Ghosts! he doesn’t usually like comedies? but this one he actually really enjoys, and it’s nice to wind down to something not too serious after a long day at work with you :)

✮ he helps you hone your crafts, he embraces your hobbies and interests dearly. poetry? read it to him. pressing flowers? he buys bouquets of flowers you haven’t pressed yet, just so you can take a singular flower and cut the stem to press the petals. embroidery? he’s let you embroider the scarf he wears in winter, and a sweater he loves wearing on your quiet nights in. he loves it all, and he is so fucking proud of you for all these little things.

✮ definitely a ‘good job, it looks lovely, honey’ kind of guy!

✮ and god, he’s so gentle. he admires your stubborn nature, but simultaneously understands it can work against you sometimes, but rather than be agitated? he slowly and softly explains it to you, doing everything to make it seem like a strong suggestion rather than a demand.

✮ patience is something kento has plenty of

✮ and if you don’t listen and things go awry? kento will never be one to say ‘i told you so’, instead he soothes and comforts silently with a long embrace and a kiss to your temple.

✮ ‘things will work out differently next time, honey’

✮ a traditional man at heart, a composed man who has the most carnal urge to provide for you. now, he wouldn’t want you to leave your job, absolutely not. not unless you wanted to

✮ but working or not, he wants to care for you. he saved up all this money for Malaysia, yes, but now? he has something much better to use this money on. you.

✮ gifts are always expensive, but never thoughtless, and he wouldn’t dream of buying you a mere grocery store bouquet, no, custom from a reputable florist

✮ any cosmetics you use are high end, his treat

✮ despite loving a quiet nice in, he also enjoys an expensive dinner followed by a moonlit walk, this happens occasionally, and especially on your anniversary

✮ but he also provides domestically too

✮ no matter how many hours he works in comparison to you, chores are absolutely equal, no doubt about it. he doesn’t want to reduce you to someone who cares for a home and nothing else. he lives there too, some messes are his, he will clean.

✮ he has a day off? he’s making dinner, not negotiable. he will allow you to help, and i mean help in the mildest way, but he’d much rather you talk to him or sit quietly and keep him company, whichever you feel like doing that night

✮ he’s the kind of man who always makes sure the water is hot for you, that your favourite mug is always washed, your fave towel is always warm for when you shower, and that your favourite pyjamas are always tumble dried the moment they’re washed so you can wear them again that night

✮ he is the perfect man, it’s absolutely infuriating

✮ without a doubt, his favourite part of the day is bed time

✮ with being a salary man again, kento is an even earlier riser than he was before, those 7AM starts kill him just a little, however, an early bed time means loving, deep, sometimes philosophical, late night talks with you

✮ resting on his chest, or perhaps facing each other with cheeks smooshed into your pillows, his large, dexterous, calloused hands always find your hair. scratching at your scalp, running his fingers through silken strands, or simply softly rubbing and patting, speaking to you in a dulcet, sleepy voice

✮ it’s like listening to fucking asmr😭

✮ these talks are never simple, oh no. you got the ‘how was your day?’ out of the way at dinner

✮ these talks are reserved for things much deeper than that. the deeper meaning of a book you had read, or poetry you had been writing, places you long to go and see, your future together, what you want ‘forever’ to look like.

✮ your life with kento is a happy, quiet forever. a routine that’s never boring or predictable, filled with domestic and quiet, but an all consuming love that no book or TV romance could ever dream of competing with

[luvingjeanie]

feel like i just got shot with nanamin’s damn

jjk men seeing you again for the first time after you broke each other’s hearts

pairings: suguru geto x gn!reader, satoru gojo x gn!reader, kento nanami x gn!reader, suguru geto x gn!reader, ryomen sukuna x gn!reader, choso kamo x gn!reader, toji fushiguro x gn!reader [all separate]

summary: breakups aren’t the worst part of a relationship ending, it’s the seeing them again that hurts. [a collection of drabbles]

tags/warnings: not sorcerers, assassin!toji, olympic swimmer!sukuna, neighbour!gojo, coworker!nanami, angst, angst no comfort (woops), mdni, sfw

Credit goes to @/strangergraphics for the divider!

Suguru Geto: strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again

Suguru Geto spots you outside before you see him. 

There you are — hands tucked into your pants, leaning by the side of the building across the square, and breath misting in the early morning air. And for a moment, he just watches, like someone thumbing through an old photo album, pulled from an old closet with cobwebs dusting its edges and age staining pages. 

But he doesn’t want you to become a faded memory. You can’t be the person he calls a ‘friend’ when his kids pester him, pointing tiny fingers at your fuzzy figure. 

It’s selfish. He knows that, but…

“Hey,” Suguru calls softly, stepping closer like it’s nothing. Like all that time that folded and unfolded between you two never happened at all. 

You turn, your face lighting up in that way that still hits him in the ribs. Still turning to him like he means something to you. “Hey,” you greet back, head tilting in the way that makes him melt into the floor. 

And for a while, it’s easy. Joking about nothing, slipping into the rhythm you’d built long ago, forged over missteps and reconciliations of years past. Except there’s this quiet in-between, an invisible distance that you both feel when you laugh — a little too loud, a little too forced. 

He reads you like a book, but you’re skimming through like he’s a magazine you picked up in the waiting room. 

Suguru catches the edge of a story he would’ve told you before. Something that happened last week — nothing big, just a cat that wouldn’t quit following him until he dropped his sandwich. The kind of thing he would’ve sent a quick text about, and you would’ve responded in teasing exasperation. But the words stick in his throat. 

You’re not that person anymore. Not his person. 

“I gotta go,” you murmur, a kind softness in your voice as you take a small step backward.

And Suguru?

He just nods, as if he hadn’t hoped you’d stay a little longer. 

“See you around,” he says. 

You smile like you believe it, wave like you know you’ll do it again someday. 

But you both know you won’t. 

And so you leave. 

And Suguru watches you go. 

ᯓ★

Kento Nanami: silent goodbyes

Pen in hand, report squarely in front of you, you sit in your usual seat at the meeting table.

Kento Nanami pretends it’s just another day. A day where you and him never happened. So, he settles into the chair beside you, because nothing ever happened, and offers you a quiet ‘Good morning’ like clockwork. 

He feels you bristle, the slight tremor of the carpet as you shake your leg — a nervous tick you’ve told him about, and when it happened, he used to soothe with a gentle hand on your thigh. 

But he’s not anything to you anymore, so he doesn’t. Instead, he looks down and reviews the agenda, turning each page like none of it ever mattered at all. 

And his fingers do not twitch, his eyes do not stray to your fidgeting hands. 

Because he is just your colleague.

The meeting carries on around you. But the talk — numbers, deadlines, polite suggestions — it’s white noise to Nanami. 

When it’s over, chairs scrape back and colleagues shuffle toward the door, their conversations bright and effortless. 

You stand as well, gathering your papers just a little too slowly. 

“Excuse me,” Nanami says as he passes by. Voice polite, measured. Composed, and already halfway gone. 

And when three or five of you are in the elevator, Nanami keeps his head straight, gazing at the floor like a courteous gentleman should. Not looking at you, even though you stand right in front of him. 

Because the smell of you is crisp against the stale air of the lift. And it hits him, you aren’t nothing. To pretend you were nothing would be desecrating your altar, built from every tender moment he still remembers, keeps. 

And for one fleeting second, he almost reaches for you. Almost leans in to say your name, to ask you to forgive him. 

But then the elevator glides to a stop. The doors slide open.

And someone’s already waiting for you. 

They smile, they speak your name like they have every right to. 

Because they do, and Nanami forfeited that the moment he left. 

And you? 

You come alive. Eyes gleaming, already passing them your briefcase and falling into a familiar step. 

Nanami’s hands stay in his pockets. 

And like clockwork, he lets you go. 

ᯓ★

Satoru Gojo: lasting impressions

Satoru Gojo considers himself an excellent neighbour. 

He doesn’t make loud noises at night, shares the fruit from his apricot tree, and is always there to offer his lawnmower, his power drill, anything, to local residents. 

He considers his greatest feat to be offering you his heart. 

And you gladly accepted it. 

Until, one day, you couldn’t anymore. 

So now, Satoru Gojo is just your an excellent neighbour again. 

And he pretends that doesn’t hollow him out every time he looks across the street. 

The community group ladies who pass your houses, pointing their spiny fingers at your lawns, to turn to prattle at one another? Gojo flashes them a practiced smile, and they’re on their way. 

That same smile, he shoots at you, when you pass by the mailbox. 

And he waves when you catch him fixing his car, acts like the world between you hasn’t shifted off its axis. 

And as if his parents don’t whisper like they’re mourning you when they come to visit, and as if the morning light spilling through his panelled windows feels the same as it did when you were there. 

One rainy day, you appear like a drowned rat on his doorstep, cradling a shivering kitten in your arms. Its eyes are blue, its fur is white. 

Desperation has clearly clouded your judgement, and heartache has obscured his.

And so like the fool he is, Gojo lets you in. 

And suddenly, the living room is warm again, and not just because of the heat lamp he hastily dug out of a cupboard. 

Your clothes litter his floor like they used to, just this time, it’s because he insisted that he couldn’t leave you shuddering in drenched fabric. 

“You can’t stay like that,” Gojo says. His voice wavers, caught between the line of teasing and softness. His hands tremble in a way you pretend not to see, and he pretends not to feel. 

You change in his bathroom, and when you come back, the silence between you is loud enough to shatter glass. 

The kitten squeaks lightly in the heat of the lamp as you sink into his couch. Close enough to touch, careful not to. 

And you hate yourself a little for forgetting why you left him. 

And he hates himself a little for making you remember why you stayed so long. 

Because when your lips meet — your chapped ones, trembling and uncertain, against his assured, steady, soft ones — it feels less like coming home, and more like breaking into a house that was never yours to stay in. 

The morning after, he feels your empty presence before he even opens his eyes — a new silence threaded into the air. 

And there it is on his phone.

A message sent 10 minutes before he woke up.

Never again. 

The kitten is still in his house, still meowing pitifully. And he knows that it must’ve pained you to leave it behind. 

So, he lines a box with blankets, carefully places the kitten inside (not before giving it a million kisses), and carries it to your front porch. 

And when you open the door, kneel, and peer into the box at those brilliantly blue eyes, and that snowy fur, you feel an ache of deja vu. 

Because Satoru Gojo is not just an excellent neighbour. 

He’s also selfish. 

ᯓ★

Choso Kamo: innocent questions

“Why isn’t teacher at our house anymore?”

Yuji’s innocent question hits him like a fist to the gut. 

Choso Kamo freezes with his hands halfway to the zip of Yuji’s backpack, heart thudding dully. 

“That’s a bad question to ask, Yuji,” Choso manages, voice softer than he feels. 

You glance up from where you’re packing away legos, eyes flicking between the two of them. 

Yuji frowns, brow crumpled in that determined way that reminds Choso too much of himself. “But you two liked each other. Right?”

Choso swallows hard, gaze locking with yours for a fleeting second — and it’s like looking into a closed door, a wall that he put between you. 

“They’re just busy,” Choso says finally, reaching down to help Yuji put on his raincoat. 

“Busy like,” Yuji scratches his hair, the pink strands ruffled, “forever busy?” he asks, voice small. 

Choso feels his chest tighten. How does he explain it to Yuji in a way that he understands, in a way that won’t make him hate himself a little more, and in a way that doesn’t break him. 

He’s at a loss for words, and Yuji’s expectant eyes grow wider by the second. 

“Your big brother is right.” 

His saving grace. 

“I’m just really busy these days,” you say softly. “But you’re important to me too, Yuji. That will never change.”

And Choso hears it. The part of you that will always care. He just wishes that it cared for him, too. 

Yuji’s face lights up, and he throws his arms around your knees. You hold him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And Choso? 

He stands there like a ghost in his own life, hands flexing at his side as he fights the useless urge to fight for you. Because you’ve already chosen your side, and made your stance clear.

And so has he. 

It would be greedy to steal more pieces of you than he already has. 

So he just says the following words. Rehearsed in his bathroom mirror, his reflection the only witness to his torment.

“C’mon, Yuji,” he beckons, hoping you don’t hear the rough edge in his voice. 

Yuji waves at you as they leave, chattering about his day. 

And as Choso holds the door for him, he looks back one last time. 

You’re back to packing the legos away. You’re not looking. So he turns away. 

And he doesn’t see you look at him. Your quiet, knowing, kind gaze. 

In the pocket of silence that follows as he trails behind Yuji, skipping through the hall, Choso’s heart twists into words he’ll never say. 

I miss you. 

ᯓ★

Toji Fushiguro: leave

Moonlight spills through the balcony doors, silvering the marble floor and the trembling hands you held at your sides. 

And Toji Fushiguro, the man who had once kissed your lips like they were sacred, now standing before you with a blade hidden at his belt and death in his eyes. 

His mission was simple: kill the heir to the throne. 

If only it were that straightforward. 

You, with your careful crown and guarded heart, had once trusted him more than anyone. Let him into your world, with shared secrets under the decrepit pavilion, where ivy strangled stone foundations and silenced palace rumours.

Until your Father, the King, found him, the lowly knight, tangled with you underneath the stars, and banished him. Decreed his death should he show his face again. 

And here he was again. No longer an acclaimed warrior, but a renowned agent of murder. 

For a moment, neither of you speak.

“Toji, why are you here?” you say, clutching his name like a shield against his wrathful gaze. 

He didn’t answer. Couldn’t. 

Because the truth was an ache knotted deep in his ribs. Because all the years you’d been apart hadn’t changed one thing. 

You still look at him like someone you love. 

And the guilt blinds him. 

He’s moving before he can think — all muscle and instinct — the blade flashing from his belt to the hollow of your throat. 

Your breath catches, your eyes widen.

But you don’t look away. 

You don’t even flinch. Stumble backwards. You don’t even run away. 

And that breaks him. 

That softness, that trust. 

In him.

Damn you. 

He holds the metal steady, hands like stone and heart like glass. Every part of him aching with the weight of this moment. 

You don’t scream. You don’t beg. 

You just stare at him like you still thought he could never truly hurt you. 

And you were right. 

Toji feels his jaw tighten until his teeth hurt, and it’s like the years between you fade away. And he’s back, back at the crumbling lodge. Your lips on his, your hands warm against his skin. Back to when you thought him a hero, before he let himself become a killer. 

Tonight, he could prove himself right. Prove you wrong. Stain himself in your blood so that you could finally see the monster he had become, undeserving of you. 

Yet here he was, weak before you with his resolve crumbling by the second. 

“Get out of here,” he rasps.

Your lips part like you might protest. 

But Toji knows you, and before you can utter a word, he digs the blade in just enough to feel you shiver under his steel. The smallest pinprick of blood seeps from your throat, and your breath hitches. 

“Leave,” Toji repeats, face twisted like he means it. 

He wants to close the distance, wants to hold you like he once did. But he can’t. He won’t. The words are bitter in his mouth. 

You search his eyes one last time, like you were looking for the boy who once kissed you under the constellations. 

And maybe you found him.

Because you don’t fight. 

You only nod, and then you’re gone with hurried steps and a door that clicks shut too quietly.

The last time he’ll ever see you. 

And he’s okay with that, if it means you stay alive. 

ᯓ★

Ryomen Sukuna: meet me in the afterglow

Neon flows from floating billboards outside your newsroom window, the camera crew scurry along the floor like ants on a mission. And your manager is at your ear, reminding you to not be late for tonight’s plane, to take you to the Olympic venue. 

Your face is already plastered on tonight’s broadcast preview: Exclusive interview with Olympic Champion Ryomen Sukuna. 

He’s the most celebrated swimmer of the century — all muscle, and sharp edges, with a glare that could cut glass and gold medals that rivalved a dragon’s treasure hoard. 

Though, you once knew that glare when it was softer, when it wasn’t his stare that sliced to pieces, but the unshakable truth of the future. And when you look at the posters scattered around the city — by your local cafe, in the rec-centre, and haunting the walls of every building — you’re happy for him. 

That’s what you tell yourself as you grab your suitcase, as you climb onto the plane, and as you enter the swimming centre. The smell of chlorine makes you wrinkle your nose, familiar as the fleeting summer. 

You wait by the edge of the training pool as the cameras warm up, nerves held tight under your blazer. The fabric felt like a cage holding you upright.

But you’re a professional. 

The best in your field. 

The nation’s trusted voice. 

Ryomen Sukuna doesn’t scare you. 

Not as he surfaces from his lane like some dangerous sea-god, water dripping off his broad shoulders as he hauls himself up onto the tiles. Some pool boy tosses him a red towel, to which he gives a curt nod to, before facing you. 

“You’re late,” Sukuna remarks, eyes glowing like he knows he has you cornered, still able to push your buttons as easily as he did twenty years ago. The words spring out like barbed wire that he never meant to unleash. 

You don’t rise to the bait. 

You never did. 

“I’m never late.” Your voice is calm but brittle. “Just early enough to catch you finishing.”

That earns you a dry chuckle, as he drags the towel over his hair. 

“You sure you’re ready for me?” Sukuna tilts his chin, scarlet eyes dark with something between regret and challenge. 

You look up, a question in your eyes that he reads easily. 

Were we ever ready for each other?

And there’s a flicker in his eyes. We never were. 

You meet his gaze, your own eyes defiant. “Of course.” 

★

“Today, Japan’s own Ryomen Sukuna claimed Gold in the men’s freestyle, backstroke, and butterfly,” you say into the microphone. 

“Sukuna, I’m sure I speak for the country when I say we are very proud of you. My unwavering support is yours.” Your voice falters at the end — just enough for him to catch it — and he tilts his head, something unreadable shadowing his face. 

“Same here,” he replies, voice low, carefully measured. “Wherever you end up, you’ll always have me.” 

Your throat tightens. You clear it. “And those are words for Japan?”

“For Japan,” he agrees, but his eyes said everything else. 

I’m sorry it worked out this way. 

I’m sorry we had to leave. 

I’m so proud of you for where you are now. 

I hope you’re proud of me too. 

And as the cameras cut, and the world resumes spinning, you thank Sukuna for the interview. 

You let yourself feel it for one second. 

A second longer than you should. 

a/n: so a 2125 edit found me today, so you have to understand why i wrote this. if you got here, tysm for reading! Hope you enjoyed itttt, and so sorry if there are any typos, this wasnt proofread 

© 2025 letteremi. All rights reserved. Please do not plagiarise/copy, translate, or repost my work to any platforms 

[luvingjeanie]

and i’d fall for cho’s bs every single time

Sabotage JJK SMAU (Pre-Relationship) PT 2

Feat Choso, Yuuta, & Suguru

I HC that all of the JJK men are mildly toxic 🤷🏽‍♀️

[luvingjeanie]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘!

ꪆৎ choso ⸝⸝ sukuna ⸝⸝ gojo ⸝⸝ ino wc.

summary. life as a streamer creates all sorts of potential interactions- whether between other creatives, or just some random person in a csgo lobby...

contains! ꪆৎ streamer au ⸝⸝ cosplayer reader (choso) ⸝⸝ some suggestiveness + downbadness lmfao ⸝⸝ nerdjo my beloved

𐔌 gia's notes! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂) woioi chat. i've been on such a 2020 first lockdown nostalgic kick recently im ngl... hence the title of this fic LOL. and lowkey the content too 😞 you can kinda tell that i ran out of steam while writing this... but o well

streamer!choso [@/ch0k4m0] who is relatively well known- technically, for his gaming abilities, though what solidified his online fame was his rather candid commentary, with seemingly no filter between his thoughts and the words that come out of his mouth. that, and his looks which had broken the internet when he had face revealed, catapulting him from a fairly unknown but well loved streamer to regularly getting hundreds of thousands of views on his streams.

his current streams mostly consisted of him working his way through resident evil. viewers could expect to see a decent progression within each stream due to choso not being completely useless at playing the game, alongside his dumb comments diminishing the fear factor of the franchise ever so slightly. and of course, his ever so subtle crush on the character ada wong.

'chat oh my GOD i've never been so in love with some pixels before'

'ada baby please, just one chance. i know that i'm 3d and you're 2d but we'll make it work'

every time a cutscene of her plays, there's an absolute torrent of messages and donations teasing him for his poorly hidden crush, ones that choso takes the time to properly read through during his breaks in the stream. such an occasion happens now, with choso reading out some random comments when a new donation rings out, the text to speech voice that comes with it bearing a demand

'choso you need to look up this account RIGHT NOW and look at the video they just posted'

his brow furrows as he reads the username, deliberating on whether he should actually follow those instructions or if his viewer was just trying to mess with him. ultimately, he conceded to his chat's wishes and opened a new browser window, typing it in.

a mere few hours later after the stream, you found your notifications to be blowing up more than usual. you had posted a new cosplay video earlier today, but even then there was a little TOO many notifications to be your usual audience. you noticed that you had been tagged in an edit, inclining you to click on that before wading through the likes and comments. every time that you received one it was a special kind of joy, with the knowledge that someone enjoyed your cosplays enough to inspire them to make something. you hear the music begin to fade in once the edit loads, though the intro clip has you confused as you don't think that you've seen it before.

obviously, you recognise choso, the handsome and funny streamer who got really popular recently, and one that you have unfortunately joined many others in appointing as your resident e-crush. you weren't big on watching streams, but every time a clip of choso appears when you scroll, you can't help but watch the whole thing, partially for its entertainment value, and partially because of just how cute the guy looked on your phone screen.

so really, it was quite the surreal experience to hear your username fall from his lips as the clip plays on your phone, and you watch the edit in disbelief

'am i spelling this right, chat?'

'and the latest video, right- oh it's, holy fuck-"

the beat then kicks in. clips of your ada wong cosplay flashing across the screen, one final flashbang of choso's face as he watches your video with an almost comical expression of awe. you're left absolutely flabbergasted as the video begins to loop, clicking on the comments to see what the hell was going on

'get in damn line choso 😩'

'BROOOODJFNSJG I WAS WATCHING THE STREAM AND I JUST KNEWWWWW SOMEONE WAS GONNA MAKE AN EDIT WITH THAT CLIP 😭😭😭'

'the stream was like 2 hours ago this edit was so fast wtf'

'it should have been meeeeeee ughhh'

'the way choso scrolled thru her ENTIRE account and then followed her... that man's finally got a crush on a real personnnnn'

that last comment captures your attention specifically, and sure enough, you see his username amongst your many new followers. it pays to get noticed by a popular streamer, you suppose.

and then, to your utmost surprise, you also see his name pop up within your dm requests

@/ch0k4mo: sooo are you in need of a leon kennedy by any chance

the dm isn't exactly suave, but it has its intended effect as you blink at your screen as you process it, finally letting out a squeal of excitement, screenshotting the message shamelessly. your friends are not gonna believe this. and then, only after running laps around your room and waiting for your erratic heartrate to return to a normal tempo, you type out a shaky response.

@/yn: funny that you ask that, cos i had a few video ideas in mind ;)

you can only hope that on the other end of the line, choso is having a somewhat similar reaction to yours.

streamer!sukuna [@/kingkuna] who is notorious for causing chaos online, whether on fps games such as cs and valorant, or even on the more inane roblox games where he makes a living off of terrorising little kids. actions speak louder than words, though the streamer is quick to utilise both when instilling terror on whichever server has the misfortune of having him

'i do this for the love of the game, chat'

'well, that, and because bullying little runts is fun'

all of these actions, streamed live every wednesday and friday, helped to garner sukuna a rather.... distinct reputation.

despite being considered an asshole for all intents and purposes, sukuna had somehow amassed a following, all from his persona of being an online troll.

so this week's particular stream was especially shocking to his fans for all of the wrong reasons.

it started off like any other stream, sukuna casually reading off the odd message in his chat whilst preparing for the stream, retorting some snarky comment that has the chat getting more and more riled up, all with a shit-eating grin on his face.

it was more or less a love-hate relationship between him and his chat, though everyone seemed happy with the dynamic, expecting no less from the streamer.

this stream in particular was particularly anticipated, if the steadily increasing viewcount in the corner was anything to go off of, probably due to the fact that this wasn't quite like his other streams. despite the countless hours of his content, very little was known about sukuna, and as a 1 million subscriber goal, the man had acquiesced to people's demands for a q&a.

it started off as well as it could have, with rather generic questions rolling out. but of course, knowing sukuna's audience (and his lenient moderators), some raunchier ones started to worm their way through

'does it... jiggle when i walk? mods, get this clown out of here'

sukuna rattles through the questions, his fans clearly revelling in his embarrassing childhood stories, in the knowledge that his hair is not dyed, and how he views his streams as training to continue defeating his nephew in fortnite whenever they play together.

and then, finally, the fated question

'kingkuna i have to know for all the ladies out there... do u have a gf??'

it's a special donation message, one that rattles off loud and clear in a way that absolutely cannot be missed, though with the amount of time it takes for him to respond, he may as well have.

'hm, wouldn't you like to know?'

there's a torrent of outraged messages, before a deep booming laugh emits from the man.

'ehhh, i'm just fucking with you. of course i do, she's my forever girl.'

there's another torrent of messages in chat, though they're now oohing and ahhing at just how uncharacteristically sweet the streamer is being. his eyes flit over the incoming messages, his grin widening as his gaze lifts to somewhere beyond the webcam's reach.

there's a silent exchange, no words needed before sukuna reclines back in his chair, his legs spreading as he makes room for whoever's coming into frame.

'she's right here, too. everyone say hi to y/n'

and when she situates herself right on his lap and his arm wraps around her waist, the chat goes crazy. the streamer seems to remember his regular image, cackling at the desperate onslaught of messages eager to get even a morsel of information about the two of you, instead starting to click away at the preparations needed before he ends the stream

'oh would you look at the time, looks like i'll be having to end the stream now. see you suckers on wednesday'

'byeeeee!'

you can't help but chime in, giggling and waving right at the camera before the stream shuts off, and you feel sukuna begin to truly relax into his chair, shuffling you impossibly closer to his chest, hugging you to him and burying his face against you.

'aww, you big baby'

'dunno what you're talking about'

you giggle at your boyfriend's antics, though definitely used to them by now. instead, you get comfy, letting sukuna use you as his personal pillow as you card through his hair with one hand, the other unlocking your phone and you begin to scroll through twitter. #kingkuna1m was already trending thanks to the premise of his livestream, and you can't help but click on the tag, looking through some of the most recent tweets.

'never would i EVER have expected SUKUNA of all ppl to be relationship goals'

'praying on his downfall fr 🙏🙏🙏 he doesn't know how good he has it'

'he's so EVIL for ending the stream like that omfg'

'the way he looks at her IM SICKKKKK ☹️☹️☹️☹️'

that last one comes with a video, a hasty screen recording of those last few moments of the stream as you wave at the camera, though you're focusing on the shamelessly lovestruck expression on sukuna's face as he watches you. it's enough to have you giggling and kicking your feet right in his lap, and he grumbles, his spare hand catching onto your flailing ankle

'quit squirming, brat'

'but you're just so cute, kunaaa'

you show him your phone screen, and it's your turn to study his face as he looks at the video impassively, though he can't hide the little twitch of his lips.

'my camera must be faulty, gotta get a new one'

streamer!gojo [@/sago] who is affectionately known by his fans for being a big fat nerd. it's not like he tries to hide it, the background of his setup decorated avidly with all sorts of posters and memorabilia from his favourite shows and games. compared to other streamers, too, gojo wasn't one to particularly shy away from details of his personal life, his laidback and easygoing persona making it easy for people to become regular viewers of his streams.

on said streams it was commonplace for his chat to ask him questions about himself, and more often than not he would give them an answer- and on one of these such occasions is when he let slip the fact that he had a roommate. and that in itself isn't anything too worldbreaking to hear, but it's the way he almost lights up as he mentions your name that has his fans intrigued.

even more interesting is gojo's reluctance, for lack of a better word, about relinquishing more information about you. how quick he is to change the subject, or act as if he never read the original message at all.

and in an impressive effort which has the streisand effect in strong contention to be renamed to the gojo effect, this only further instils a need for his fans to know everything that they possibly could about you.

it's arguably one of his most well-loved bits with an incredibly long longevity, with a large amount of fanmade compilations of him at least alluding to it

'who's my roommate? i'll let you know when i find out'

'come back with a warrant, fed'

'that's some very personal information there which i would be hesitant to spread online. what do you MEAN i was telling you all about where i grew up 2 minutes ago-'

(you get the picture)

therefore, it's a rare and delightful treat whenever a new tidbit about you is let slip by the streamer. the day that your name got accidentally revealed by him on stream was a day for the books. and of course, since gojo's fans were deranged, your insta account and subsequent face reveal were soon to follow.

and once the cat was out of the bag, gojo seemed to begrudgingly relax about your secrecy. you started popping up in streams a bit more often, usually just a face peeking in to the room of gojo's setup, a sneaky wave that satoru would notice later and grin to himself about. he's got a highlight reel of your appearances on his twitch profile that he likes to rewatch more than he cares to admit.

one time, he even had you sat next to him during a just chatting stream, the two of you shooting the shit. his fans were quick to point out how red the tips of his ears were throughout the whole stream. and how he looked at you like you hung the moon and stars whenever you spoke. and how he kept looking at you like that even when you weren't speaking.

it was never official, but satoru's feelings for you were.. rather obvious to anyone with the time to tune in to his streams. his touchiness regarding you seemed to make a lot more sense now, and became the newest aspect of satoru's life for his chat to ruthlessly mock.

today was just a regular stream- some mindless shooter game that satoru was way too invested in, no mentions or guest appearances of you. until now.

the door opened in the background of the stream- satoru's eyes flick up just before the door even moves, as if he had a sixth sense just for you- and you storm into the room, closer to annoyed than your usual cheery self.

'toru, you forgot to take out the bins. they're being collected tomorrow so don't leave it too late

and just like that, you're gone again. there's not even an ounce of hesitation before satoru is getting up from his desk, headphones coming off despite the yells of his teammates for him to stop fucking around and help them rush a.

chat is making their usual comments, a spam of their love for you and excitement that you've made an appearance. a few keener watchers were geeking over the toru nickname that's sure to make their way into the next y/n and gojo compilation video.

and despite all of this, satoru's heading out of the room.

'my girl's mad at me guys, i gotta go fix it'

and he's only gone for a few minutes, at most. but it's like an implosion of oncoming messages, all scrolling past his screen with no eyes to see them.

gojospinkietoe: FIRST TORU THEN MY GIRL!!!???? OHHHH MY GOD 🥺🥺🥺

iwatchmen: the gojoyn fans are gonna loveeee this

gojoyn5evrrr: SOMEONE CLIP THAT

funnily enough, satoru doesn't even realise the slipup until he's almost back to his room. at least he can blame the blush this time on having to have gone outside very briefly.

it's not exactly the same as his usual slipups when it comes to you- usually, there's at least an element of truth to them, but this appears to be sourced from somewhere deeper in his brain, a lot more of a subconscious desire that he hoped wouldn't breach into the conscious realm.

not until he was ready, at least.

streamer!ino [@/yunglean4ever] who's more of an up and coming streamer.. but he's slowly and steadily making his way up the rankings!! his game of choice is usually an fps, with his default usually being csgo. or something like that. he enjoys the straightforward nature of it. and teabagging his opponents when he's in the mood to be a little shit.

during these livestreams he's met many a different player, some friendlier than the regular silence or automatic irritated mood that most seemed to have- or some russian guy screaming words into the mic that was anyone's guess as to what it meant.

and while interacting with said teammates is always a promising aspect of entertainment, ino wasn't one to remember most of these interactions, save for a few especially distinct ones.

one such occasion is when he meets you. you've got your mic on, which is always more appealing for ino than having to communicate via typing or reading chats, and even better is the almost instant connection that the two of you make. you giggle at his silly username, he indignantly defends his love for drain gang, and the rest is history.

one match played together turns into a friend request, which turns into becoming a party, which turns into playing duos, which turns into goving each other your discords, which turns into many more rounds which extend way after ino ends his stream.

it was merely a start to this new... something, but with the way that ino caught himself laughing a little too hard at your mildly funny jokes, he had a feeling that it would turn into something much more.

so when he boots up his pc the next day, it's not much surprise to him that there's some giddy emotion that he feels when he says a message from you

'wanna play? had a lot of fun last night w u :D'

he couldn't type out a response fast enough to contain his excitement.

⋆˚࿔ jjk masterlist

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ... or, try reading hopelessly devoted to you

[luvingjeanie]

IT WAS SO CUTIE!!!

@99BIMBODOLL LIVES 3KM FROM YOU. MEET UP? ───── ☆

synopsis. in which itadori loves the way his pretty extravagant girlfriend always makes his day better than the previous.

contains. . . itadori yuji x fem! bimbo!reader, kind of ‘idiots in love’ trope?, reader kinda has no friends, reader has a huge a$$ and is taller then him when she wears heels (do you see what i did there😼?), slightly suggestive in the penultimate part, drabble then hc’s, make out sesh, NOT PROOFREAD 😞😞 pls tell me if you notice a single. mistake 🙏.

word count. 2. 229k (a literal miracle)

an. yuji w/ a bimbo gf sounds so fitting to me they’re both dumbasses.. PHEWWWWW that was so fckng cool to write, have a good read !<33

𝜗𝜚 please if you liked, reblog! it helps me a lot <3

itadori first noticed you on a spring day in chemistry class.

well, he wasn’t the only one to notice you for sure, because no one that walked past you could ever ignore the sugary trail that you left behind you.

you always seemed so out of your mind, like a clueless baby deer who has moved away from its mother, big sparkly eyes unfailingly keeping their attention on something other than the actual course.

on your school desk was nothing more than ten or so glittery pens of all kinds of colors, a very expensive-looking velvet juicy couture bag at the corner of the table, threatening to drop at any moment under its heavy weight, and a bunch of overly decorated papers, on which you’d spend the whole hour doodling cartoonish bunnies and hearts.

anyway, everyone found you a little too ‘spacey’, ‘scatterbrained’, kinda hard to understand.

you also weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed. yes, not only you wouldn’t pay attention to the course, but you’d also never ask the teacher to explain, you wouldn’t ask your classmates for help, acting like you didn’t give a single fuck about whatever chemistry chapter y’all were on, but, the worst was on group works. no student would naturally pair themselves with you because they knew how much of a pain you were, how ‘useless’ you’d be, and how you’d never bring any relevant information except some updates on how your nail appointment went and how the nail tech botched your set whilst you paid a hefty sum to get them done and blah, blah, blah..

yet, yuji didn’t find that irritating, he found that somewhat endearing? the way your big glamorous eyes would immediately light up when the topic was about fashion, or hairstyles and the way you’d instantly jump at the chance to ramble on and on about it because that interested you and because some people would chat with you as if y’all were longtime friends, how passionate and concentrated you’d be when something piqued your interest. he found that cute.

maybe if people would get to know you, they’d realize you’re much more different from the image of a simple-minded girl you give off, and that behind a superficial facade was no more than a harmless soul.

after some time, he finally plucked up some courage to go and talk to you. during lunch break, when you’d often stay in class, peacefully eating your meal while the wind would kindly graze at your made-up face.

he discreetly half opened the sliding door, eliciting a creaking sound from it. that took you out of your thoughts, making you turn your head gently. your gaze fell on a pink haired guy offering you a toothy smile as he happily strolled toward you.

he looked kinda shy, as his stare was switching from your eyes to the classroom’s floor, hands fidgeting nervously. he radiated a very reassuring aura tho, the kind of aura that would make you feel at ease despite an awkward atmosphere.

‘mhh, hello?’ you softly said, tilting your head on the side.

the guy smiled wider, seemingly regaining assurance.

‘hello!, what’s your name?’ he beamed as he stopped fidgeting, raising a hand to wave at you.

the bell rang. you didn’t even realize how much time you spent chatting with the pink-haired guy because lunch break passed in a flash. you had a pretty good time discussing with him. you were used to staying alone in class most of the time, and that didn’t really bother you, but having some company wasn’t so bad too. especially from a boy like him. during the hour, you got to know him, as you never noticed him before and learned he was the same age as you, was in the same chemistry class on a Tuesday, and that he also never truly understood a damn thing in chemistry.

and you two got closer. after the time you met him at lunch break, you’d often find yourself paired with him for group works because he’d wave his hand at you through the class, flashing you a large smile and already setting the tables correctly, never leaving you an opportunity to protest or refuse. everywhere he could include you and not leave you alone, he’d seize the chance.

he was like a breath of fresh air to you. he always made an effort trying to deal with your dumb shenanigans, never seeming annoyed when it came to attentively listening to your beauty products reviews, he’d offer to give you tutoring lessons despite his mediocre level in chemistry because he knew that a study session from him would never bore you, during lunch time he’d happily eat and chitchat while proposing a bite of his food, eagerly waiting for an in-depth critique, and when you’d invite him at home for ‘paired work’, it’d mostly end up in him sprawling on your taffy-hued velvet bedsheets relishing in the pink atmosphere of you room or curling waves in your lustrous platinum hair after you ever-so gently asked him to help.

it’s like you’ve find your match. itadori was sweet and a little stupid ‘sometimes’, just like you. he found interest in whatever you’d proudly display, his eyes sparking at your joyful expression that he loved to see. when he was walking next to you in the school’s corridors clinging on his arm like a koala, making heads turn in disapproval, he’d immediately shot a pissy stare back at them, hating the way people would find a way to judge you so easily. when you’d try on new cute clothes you were so excited about, his breath would get caught in his chest, a lump forming in his throat, unable to speak out of pure admiration he felt toward you. the way you’d stand up, parading like a model as nothing but a candid joke and then turning on your heels to face him, granting him with the prettiest smile ever. he wasn’t able to do anything but stare in awe. he called that heaven.

on a night he couldn’t sleep, he found himself looking out for nails designs he thought you would like, and the realization hit him. he loved you. and he desperately needed to confess to you.

well, he didn’t waste any time to do so, as during your usual lunch break chitchat session, he’d slip out a tiny ‘i really like you’. nothing too loud—, just a timidly whispered confession, audible enough for you to hear and fathom what in the world he had just blurted out. shame crept up on him instantly. his face heated up and he miserably tried to get back to the main topic, brushing off that embarrassing moment to avoid an ungraceful loss of credibility.. you on the other hand, weren’t fazed by his clumsy slip-out. you now knew that he liked you and you were more than happy to know that. the only guy that accepted you for what you truly are and that indulged in all you pink-coated fantasies— he appreciated you as much i you did him? what a win.

‘mhh, yuji i don’t understand what you’ve just said right now. repeat a little louder maybe ?’ you lied, voice laced with honey, titling your head in false incomprehension.

the poor flustered guy jolted on his chair as a bead of sweating was leisurely rolling down his temple. you looked so pretty blatantly lying to his face and he couldn’t tear his eyes off your enticing glossed lips, vehemently avoiding any possible eye contact.

‘i- i just said i liked your-‘ he stuttered, before being cut off by a kiss. a sweet, quick nervous kiss on the corner of his lips, leaving a smudged imprint of lipgloss behind, as a silent proof of your love for him. and he’s the one looking dumb at the moment, his eyes being impossibly wide-open with his mouth slightly ajar, a fair blush on his cheeks now from shyness and love.

‘uhhhh’ itadori dazedly dragged, as if a single peck from you was entirely enough to end him. tho, you don’t stop there. by a steady exhale, you utter a ‘want an another ? is that okay with you ?’ and the pink-haired boy doesn’t waste a second to vigorously nod. he does want an another kiss —and who are you not to give it to him? you carefully cup his head in your perfectly manicured hands and kiss him again, this time a little more passionate, a firmer kiss conveying a thousand of emotions at once, a plethora of pent-up feelings, eased up by a simple meeting of your lips. you gently intertwine your fingers in his soft strands as he locks his left hand behind your head and his right one on your hip to ‘keep you there’, to make sure you can’t run away. the tension overwhelmingly stretches further as breathing becomes harder, and that you two can’t be any closer than y’all are now, your left leg hunched over his right knee and his hands being everywhere, the kiss turning into a long heartfelt embrace. the bell rings and snaps you out of the comfortable haze of the kiss, a last stare being shared between you and him, full of lingering tenderness.

and from that very moment, he had never left you. he’s soooo grateful to be your partner, attached to your hip 24/7. being with you brought so much joy to him and made his daily life much better, never having a single dull moment with you:

introducing you to his friends. itadori is a proud man. he has that booming aura that makes him needing to showcase everything, everyone that he finds cool and has the need to be seen. you’re obviously that everyone. he doesn’t waste a second presenting you to his dear friends that already know about you from how much he pester them all day with his thoughts of his pretty cherished girlfriend. Y’all clicked immediately, nobara being delighted to have found a new shopping partner and nail artist and megumi having a prostylist for his hair! Itadori was overjoyed seeing the peoples he appreciates the most going along well. (bonus: mr. gojo now being the one you have chitchat session with..)

buying you clothes. as said before, itadori loves to see you having fun in getting dressed up and being perfectly dolled up anytime. he’s more than motivated to fuel your fashion hobby by participating in it. he’s sees your eyes lighting up in front of a store window? you’re leaving the boutique with the accessory you were eyeing AND a bag full of other pretty garments he gladly helped you chose. if you ever were talking about some pink mini skirt during a chitchat session at lunch break, you’d have it on the next day. but the things he lives for is the silly runways you treat him with. coming back from a shopping spree with nobara, you’d excitedly scamper toward him with that usual bright smile when the binge has paid off and begin to snatch out every piece of cute clothings you bought, including high heels and belts. he’d impatiently wait for you, seated on the edge of your bed waiting for you to leave the bathroom to change, and when you’d come out— his fists would tight up in infatuation, guts knotting at the mere sight of you, garbed in a tight neon pink top bedazzled with shiny pearls, a mini pleated skirt that would instantly show the curvature of your butt if you bend a little too much, and most importantly: high platform heels granting you a divinely alluring stature. you’d sensually strut your way up to him and give him a lil’ confident twirl while the only thing he’d be able to do is look up at you and enjoy the show you put on for him. he feels like watching a straight up goddess by the way you parade your outfit like that, teasingly wiggling your skirt now and then, his eyes guiltily staring at your round, gorgeous ass. ‘w-wow, sweetie, give me some time to process what just happened”.

‘study’ sessions. well, chemistry is a mess for both of you, but being the sweet caring lover he is, he’d gladly offer to help you understand and memorise some trivial formulas. inviting you at his house when no one’s home, he’d welcome you like a princess, preparing some good snacks in case of energy slumps and patting the best part of his couch for you to sit on. whipping out the schoolbooks, he’d try his best to make the course as clear as possible, explaining with metaphors (ie. combining atoms like you’d combine different piece of clothes to make an outfit, creating a ‘molecule’), using hands gestures etc.. but your attention seems to wander elsewhere— on his lips. the way they move as he speaks suddenly becomes very much attractive, and you can’t resist but lean into him, letting gravity do its thing and crash your plump lips on his, sharing a hungry desperate kiss. he stumbles on his elbows due to the sudden weight of you on him, landing on a padded pillow, head sinking into it as you hover over him in passion, deepening the kiss with your arms braced around his neck. he closes his eyes, appreciating the instant, the study lesson long forgotten already.

[@ fayeraa. do not copy, steal nor claim as yours, and do not translate/repost on other platforms.]

[luvingjeanie]

I LOVE THISSS

im sick of bimbo x smart character

i want two stupid idiots in love, bimbo x himbo just seems right

@99BIMBODOLL LIVES 3KM FROM YOU. MEET UP? ───── ☆

synopsis. in which itadori loves the way his pretty extravagant girlfriend always makes his day better than the previous.

contains. . . itadori yuji x fem! bimbo!reader, kind of ‘idiots in love’ trope?, reader kinda has no friends, reader has a huge a$$ and is taller then him when she wears heels (do you see what i did there😼?), slightly suggestive in the penultimate part, drabble then hc’s, make out sesh, NOT PROOFREAD 😞😞 pls tell me if you notice a single. mistake 🙏.

word count. 2. 229k (a literal miracle)

an. yuji w/ a bimbo gf sounds so fitting to me they’re both dumbasses.. PHEWWWWW that was so fckng cool to write, have a good read !<33

𝜗𝜚 please if you liked, reblog! it helps me a lot <3

itadori first noticed you on a spring day in chemistry class.

well, he wasn’t the only one to notice you for sure, because no one that walked past you could ever ignore the sugary trail that you left behind you.

you always seemed so out of your mind, like a clueless baby deer who has moved away from its mother, big sparkly eyes unfailingly keeping their attention on something other than the actual course.

on your school desk was nothing more than ten or so glittery pens of all kinds of colors, a very expensive-looking velvet juicy couture bag at the corner of the table, threatening to drop at any moment under its heavy weight, and a bunch of overly decorated papers, on which you’d spend the whole hour doodling cartoonish bunnies and hearts.

anyway, everyone found you a little too ‘spacey’, ‘scatterbrained’, kinda hard to understand.

you also weren’t the sharpest tool in the shed. yes, not only you wouldn’t pay attention to the course, but you’d also never ask the teacher to explain, you wouldn’t ask your classmates for help, acting like you didn’t give a single fuck about whatever chemistry chapter y’all were on, but, the worst was on group works. no student would naturally pair themselves with you because they knew how much of a pain you were, how ‘useless’ you’d be, and how you’d never bring any relevant information except some updates on how your nail appointment went and how the nail tech botched your set whilst you paid a hefty sum to get them done and blah, blah, blah..

yet, yuji didn’t find that irritating, he found that somewhat endearing? the way your big glamorous eyes would immediately light up when the topic was about fashion, or hairstyles and the way you’d instantly jump at the chance to ramble on and on about it because that interested you and because some people would chat with you as if y’all were longtime friends, how passionate and concentrated you’d be when something piqued your interest. he found that cute.

maybe if people would get to know you, they’d realize you’re much more different from the image of a simple-minded girl you give off, and that behind a superficial facade was no more than a harmless soul.

after some time, he finally plucked up some courage to go and talk to you. during lunch break, when you’d often stay in class, peacefully eating your meal while the wind would kindly graze at your made-up face.

he discreetly half opened the sliding door, eliciting a creaking sound from it. that took you out of your thoughts, making you turn your head gently. your gaze fell on a pink haired guy offering you a toothy smile as he happily strolled toward you.

he looked kinda shy, as his stare was switching from your eyes to the classroom’s floor, hands fidgeting nervously. he radiated a very reassuring aura tho, the kind of aura that would make you feel at ease despite an awkward atmosphere.

‘mhh, hello?’ you softly said, tilting your head on the side.

the guy smiled wider, seemingly regaining assurance.

‘hello!, what’s your name?’ he beamed as he stopped fidgeting, raising a hand to wave at you.

the bell rang. you didn’t even realize how much time you spent chatting with the pink-haired guy because lunch break passed in a flash. you had a pretty good time discussing with him. you were used to staying alone in class most of the time, and that didn’t really bother you, but having some company wasn’t so bad too. especially from a boy like him. during the hour, you got to know him, as you never noticed him before and learned he was the same age as you, was in the same chemistry class on a Tuesday, and that he also never truly understood a damn thing in chemistry.

and you two got closer. after the time you met him at lunch break, you’d often find yourself paired with him for group works because he’d wave his hand at you through the class, flashing you a large smile and already setting the tables correctly, never leaving you an opportunity to protest or refuse. everywhere he could include you and not leave you alone, he’d seize the chance.

he was like a breath of fresh air to you. he always made an effort trying to deal with your dumb shenanigans, never seeming annoyed when it came to attentively listening to your beauty products reviews, he’d offer to give you tutoring lessons despite his mediocre level in chemistry because he knew that a study session from him would never bore you, during lunch time he’d happily eat and chitchat while proposing a bite of his food, eagerly waiting for an in-depth critique, and when you’d invite him at home for ‘paired work’, it’d mostly end up in him sprawling on your taffy-hued velvet bedsheets relishing in the pink atmosphere of you room or curling waves in your lustrous platinum hair after you ever-so gently asked him to help.

it’s like you’ve find your match. itadori was sweet and a little stupid ‘sometimes’, just like you. he found interest in whatever you’d proudly display, his eyes sparking at your joyful expression that he loved to see. when he was walking next to you in the school’s corridors clinging on his arm like a koala, making heads turn in disapproval, he’d immediately shot a pissy stare back at them, hating the way people would find a way to judge you so easily. when you’d try on new cute clothes you were so excited about, his breath would get caught in his chest, a lump forming in his throat, unable to speak out of pure admiration he felt toward you. the way you’d stand up, parading like a model as nothing but a candid joke and then turning on your heels to face him, granting him with the prettiest smile ever. he wasn’t able to do anything but stare in awe. he called that heaven.

on a night he couldn’t sleep, he found himself looking out for nails designs he thought you would like, and the realization hit him. he loved you. and he desperately needed to confess to you.

well, he didn’t waste any time to do so, as during your usual lunch break chitchat session, he’d slip out a tiny ‘i really like you’. nothing too loud—, just a timidly whispered confession, audible enough for you to hear and fathom what in the world he had just blurted out. shame crept up on him instantly. his face heated up and he miserably tried to get back to the main topic, brushing off that embarrassing moment to avoid an ungraceful loss of credibility.. you on the other hand, weren’t fazed by his clumsy slip-out. you now knew that he liked you and you were more than happy to know that. the only guy that accepted you for what you truly are and that indulged in all you pink-coated fantasies— he appreciated you as much i you did him? what a win.

‘mhh, yuji i don’t understand what you’ve just said right now. repeat a little louder maybe ?’ you lied, voice laced with honey, titling your head in false incomprehension.

the poor flustered guy jolted on his chair as a bead of sweating was leisurely rolling down his temple. you looked so pretty blatantly lying to his face and he couldn’t tear his eyes off your enticing glossed lips, vehemently avoiding any possible eye contact.

‘i- i just said i liked your-‘ he stuttered, before being cut off by a kiss. a sweet, quick nervous kiss on the corner of his lips, leaving a smudged imprint of lipgloss behind, as a silent proof of your love for him. and he’s the one looking dumb at the moment, his eyes being impossibly wide-open with his mouth slightly ajar, a fair blush on his cheeks now from shyness and love.

‘uhhhh’ itadori dazedly dragged, as if a single peck from you was entirely enough to end him. tho, you don’t stop there. by a steady exhale, you utter a ‘want an another ? is that okay with you ?’ and the pink-haired boy doesn’t waste a second to vigorously nod. he does want an another kiss —and who are you not to give it to him? you carefully cup his head in your perfectly manicured hands and kiss him again, this time a little more passionate, a firmer kiss conveying a thousand of emotions at once, a plethora of pent-up feelings, eased up by a simple meeting of your lips. you gently intertwine your fingers in his soft strands as he locks his left hand behind your head and his right one on your hip to ‘keep you there’, to make sure you can’t run away. the tension overwhelmingly stretches further as breathing becomes harder, and that you two can’t be any closer than y’all are now, your left leg hunched over his right knee and his hands being everywhere, the kiss turning into a long heartfelt embrace. the bell rings and snaps you out of the comfortable haze of the kiss, a last stare being shared between you and him, full of lingering tenderness.

and from that very moment, he had never left you. he’s soooo grateful to be your partner, attached to your hip 24/7. being with you brought so much joy to him and made his daily life much better, never having a single dull moment with you:

introducing you to his friends. itadori is a proud man. he has that booming aura that makes him needing to showcase everything, everyone that he finds cool and has the need to be seen. you’re obviously that everyone. he doesn’t waste a second presenting you to his dear friends that already know about you from how much he pester them all day with his thoughts of his pretty cherished girlfriend. Y’all clicked immediately, nobara being delighted to have found a new shopping partner and nail artist and megumi having a prostylist for his hair! Itadori was overjoyed seeing the peoples he appreciates the most going along well. (bonus: mr. gojo now being the one you have chitchat session with..)

buying you clothes. as said before, itadori loves to see you having fun in getting dressed up and being perfectly dolled up anytime. he’s more than motivated to fuel your fashion hobby by participating in it. he’s sees your eyes lighting up in front of a store window? you’re leaving the boutique with the accessory you were eyeing AND a bag full of other pretty garments he gladly helped you chose. if you ever were talking about some pink mini skirt during a chitchat session at lunch break, you’d have it on the next day. but the things he lives for is the silly runways you treat him with. coming back from a shopping spree with nobara, you’d excitedly scamper toward him with that usual bright smile when the binge has paid off and begin to snatch out every piece of cute clothings you bought, including high heels and belts. he’d impatiently wait for you, seated on the edge of your bed waiting for you to leave the bathroom to change, and when you’d come out— his fists would tight up in infatuation, guts knotting at the mere sight of you, garbed in a tight neon pink top bedazzled with shiny pearls, a mini pleated skirt that would instantly show the curvature of your butt if you bend a little too much, and most importantly: high platform heels granting you a divinely alluring stature. you’d sensually strut your way up to him and give him a lil’ confident twirl while the only thing he’d be able to do is look up at you and enjoy the show you put on for him. he feels like watching a straight up goddess by the way you parade your outfit like that, teasingly wiggling your skirt now and then, his eyes guiltily staring at your round, gorgeous ass. ‘w-wow, sweetie, give me some time to process what just happened”.

‘study’ sessions. well, chemistry is a mess for both of you, but being the sweet caring lover he is, he’d gladly offer to help you understand and memorise some trivial formulas. inviting you at his house when no one’s home, he’d welcome you like a princess, preparing some good snacks in case of energy slumps and patting the best part of his couch for you to sit on. whipping out the schoolbooks, he’d try his best to make the course as clear as possible, explaining with metaphors (ie. combining atoms like you’d combine different piece of clothes to make an outfit, creating a ‘molecule’), using hands gestures etc.. but your attention seems to wander elsewhere— on his lips. the way they move as he speaks suddenly becomes very much attractive, and you can’t resist but lean into him, letting gravity do its thing and crash your plump lips on his, sharing a hungry desperate kiss. he stumbles on his elbows due to the sudden weight of you on him, landing on a padded pillow, head sinking into it as you hover over him in passion, deepening the kiss with your arms braced around his neck. he closes his eyes, appreciating the instant, the study lesson long forgotten already.

[@ fayeraa. do not copy, steal nor claim as yours, and do not translate/repost on other platforms.]

[luvingjeanie]

29...with Toji (:<

this genuinely almost killed me.

send me a number and a kiss prompt!

prompt 29. “Let me show you what a real kiss feels like.”

minors do NOT interact! ageless blogs do NOT interact! I block!

summary: neighbor Toji x afab reader. (exists in any au/canonverse tbh there is no indication) yandere Toji hints, alcohol (wine), cigarette smoking, reader got ghosted oh no! good thing neighbor Toji is there. suggestive themes, Toji is his own warning, I’m incapable of writing anything shorter than 1.5k enjoy! wc: 2.9k

Sniffling into your snot sodden pillow, you admit an ugly truth. You are wildly pathetic to be sobbing over a man who does not care if you live or die.

Dating sucks, plainly spoken. Time after time, men disappoint you and demolish every preconceived notion of romance and connection. You blame the lack of commitment due to dating apps. The casual cruelty of easy detachment, the lack of motivation to see a blossoming love come to fruition, the utter indifference of the human soul. 

But you thought this time was different. You believed that you had met someone worthy of all the love you’re spilling over with. Unfortunately, you were proven wrong.

You’re all dressed up too. Pretty dress, hair and makeup perfectly executed, an eager smile ever so present on your lips. You were just so excited nearly an hour ago, slipping your shoes on to stand at your front door. Patiently, you scrolled through your phone, waiting for your date to signal that he was on his way to a restaurant you had picked out. Not somewhere too casual, nor dapperly formal, but occasion enough to throw on a nice outfit.

You’d been looking forward to the date all week, so when the text never arrived to your phone, every minute that passed became increasingly more depressing. 

You really thought this time would be different. You had seen this guy thrice already, and things seemed to be going very well. Agreeing on the important things — career paths, family, morals — you really believed this was finally your prince amongst a sea of frogs. 

Not to mention the fact you had genuinely liked the guy. Good looking, established job, responsible; He checked off every one of your boxes. On your previous date, you even invited him to your bedroom.

Though the sex was disappointing to say the least, you were willing to sacrifice lust for love. He really seemed that great. 

You swipe at your mascara stained cheeks, smudging the makeup away. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you that you still have not eaten.

Taking a deep grounding breath, you stumble to your feet, your pretty heels still clinging to your soles. Shaking off the pathetic self loathing, you make a decision. You’re not going to let this guy ruin your night.

Cocooning yourself in a jacket, you march over to the closest mirror and fix yourself up. Luckily, your makeup remains primarily intact despite the tear trails. Your hair is a mess, but you’re not really going anywhere anymore, so it doesn’t matter too much.

Grabbing a bottle of wine from your kitchen and an assortment of snacks, you unlock your apartment door and greet the hallway with spiteful excitement. A perk of your building is the fact that the roof access is only a floor above your dwelling. You swiftly navigate to the staircase, stomping hurriedly to the exit door.

Revealing a sea of street lamps and headlights below, you’re greeted by the chilled early Summer breeze. Directly ahead sits a long forgotten patio set, your intended destination.

Self care, or whatever you want to call it — you’re going to spend your evening drinking down your feelings whilst feasting on your favorite treats. Is it a healthy coping mechanism? No, but being ghosted sucks. Any drop of dopamine would be much appreciated at the moment.

Taking a seat on a wicker couch, you pop the cork and take a swig directly from the bottle. Your eyes are still fairly watery, and the room temperature wine elicits further tears. It’s a dry red, one of your personal favorites, but this bottle bites back.

Chewing slowly on your assortment of snacks, you watch the lights flicker and pulse in the distance. The time grows further away from you, absorbed in the reflection of yourself and your romantic endeavors. Postmodern dating is abysmally sad. You wonder flippantly if it is even worth your time or efforts anymore. Love feels like a luxury product rather than an all encompassing experience. Too far away from your grasp, out of budget, and lacking quality.

You almost miss the metallic screech of the rooftop door. Technically, you’re not really supposed to be up here, let alone completely by yourself with a bottle of wine. You hug the red to your chest, a terrible attempt to conceal the contraband, and whip your head around to see who has come to disturb your solitude.

Oh, it’s just your neighbor. Toji, if you are recalling his name correctly. He appears that he doesn’t even notice you, flicking the wheel of his lighter, cradling the edge of a cigarette from the wind. Sparks fail to ignite, a swear present beneath his breath. You stifle a gentle chuckle, maneuvering yourself out of the chair loudly so as to not startle him. 

“Need a hand?” you ask, your voice carried by the wind and delivered to his agitated expression.

Toji’s verdant gaze slides over your form, a ghost of a smirk at the edges of his mouth as he says, “Your body, actually.”

With practiced strides, Toji approaches where you sit. Leaning over, he uses your frame to find a sweet spot of stale air. You try to help, angling yourself effectively. With a pleased hum, the man finally produces a flame, and with a long drag the tobacco catches fire. He exhales a billowy cloud, swirls and haze carried off to the sky.

“Didn’t know that you were a smoker,” you note casually. In all honesty, you know little to nothing about Toji, just that his apartment resides directly next to yours.

“I’m not,” he takes another drag. “Just had a shit day, I guess.”

You hum in agreement, eyes flickering to the wine bottle in your lap. “I get that.”

Toji is a towering, burly man, you notice. Thick muscles rippling beneath his clinging shirt, pants hanging lowly on his hips — he is a sight to be gawked at. You’ve never really gotten a good look at him, usually waving in polite greeting whenever stumbling by one another in the hallway or lobby. You hear him occasionally banging around in his apartment, but other than that, you haven’t really interacted with the guy.

You feel his eyes rake over you, observing in terrible accuracy as he asks, “Boyfriend problems?”

“Is it that obvious?” you snort, gesturing to the wine.

Toji chuckles, “You’re all dolled up sitting up here all by yourself.”

“I got ghosted,” you grimace. “But I’ll be alright. I’m sure you don’t really care to hear about my stupid problems when you’re dealing with your own.”

“Nah,” he tosses himself beside you, extending his hand out to take your bottle. “I love hearing about stupid problems. Talk my ear off sweetheart.”

You pass the wine reluctantly, a frown upon your lips. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to bother you.”

“It ain’t bothering me if I’m asking for it. ‘Sides, it’ll take my mind off my own shit if you’re yapping your pretty mouth.”

Heat erupts in your ears, blood roaring to the tops of your cheeks. With a flushed stammer, you recount a shortened version of tonight’s events, providing minimal backstory of the guy who stood you up. Toji listens, grunting and humming in between pauses, taking long drags from his stoge and deep gulps from the neck of the wine bottle. When you wrap up your venting, he passes back the red, and you take an eager swig.

“He sounds like a pussy,” Toji says bluntly. “Was he a good fuck at least?”

Flustered by his crudeness, you stutter, “Not really.”

His brows lift into his hairline, “You’ve got to tell me about that.”

“I don’t have much to say, honestly,” you squeak. “Didn’t last long, and he was a terrible kisser.”

“Shit,” Toji chuckles darkly. “Dude didn’t even kiss you right?”

You shake your head, embarrassed. “No.”

“How old was this asshole?” Toji asks, scoffing. “Fuckin’ teenager or something?”

You laugh, “Obviously not.”

“Obviously never grew the fuck up. Obviously doesn’t know how to make a lady happy.”

“Obviously,” you mirror. “But I liked him enough.”

“Oh no,” his voice deepens, all grovel and grit. “Don’t tell me you were still willing to give that idiot another chance.”

You gesture to your dress and heels, “Idiots attract idiots, I guess.”

Toji shakes his head in disbelief, grinning at the sky. “Most guys don’t know what the fuck to do with pretty girls like yourself. In a fucked up way, you should take it as a compliment.”

“Why does that feel so casually misogynistic?” you joke.

“Hey now, don’t get it twisted. I respect my women. Enough to treat them right, at least.”

Your eyes unabashedly trace his bulky form, “I’m sure you do.”

“You checking me out?” Toji smirks. “Take it in, sweet thing. You’re looking at a real man.”

Maybe it’s the warm intoxication of the wine, or the comforting presence of your virtually unknown neighbor, but you feel embolden enough to confess, “You’re good looking, sure. Your girlfriend is a lucky lady.”

Toji laughs, loud and boisterous. “Girlfriend? You’re out of your fuckin’ mind. I’m as single as they come, darlin’.”

“So that cigarette isn’t dedicated to your lady problems?” you giggle. 

“Sort of, but not a fucking girlfriend.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” you offer.

He snorts, “Not a fucking chance.”

“Seems a bit rude. I just spilled all my dirty laundry and you’re being stingy on yours.”

“Mine’s a bit too dirty for your delicate ears.”

“Try me.”

Toji appears to consider it for a moment, scratching at his cheek and avoiding your inquisitive attention. “Nah. It’s just work bullshit. Ladies aren’t really a problem for me.”

“Arrogant,” you say sarcastically.

“For good reason,” he smirks. “You’ve never heard the sounds from your side of the wall? Real late at night?”

You blink, “The banging? I just figured you were a night owl.”

“It’s the banging alright,” he flashes a wicked grin.

“Ew,” you scrunch your nose. “Gross.”

“I’m just fucking with you,” Toji chortles. “Well, kinda’.”

“You should get checked at the clinic,” you tease. “Who knows what diseases you might have.”

“Why, you want one?” 

“Hey!”

You share a hearty laugh, and you realize something. You feel worlds better than the beginning of your night. Gone are any indications of your teary emotions and self loathing. You feel as if you’re floating on happiness, the weightlessness of a good time. You stare at Toji, laughing from deep within his sternum at his own filthy joke, and wonder why the hell you haven’t approached him before. You could’ve used a friend like him.

Not recognizing you’ve said any of this out loud, Toji eyes you with a dangerous glimmer. “You’re completely oblivious, ain’t you?”

“Huh?”

A heated palm rests atop your thigh, his cigarette long forgotten and tossed over the roof. “‘S okay, it’s cute.”

Toji looks at you with an unreadable expression. Something dark lingers in his irises, swirling and expanding. You feel as though you’re missing something, something important.

“I’ve got an idea,” he murmurs, lids growing heavy. “You interested, pretty thing?”

You nod, hypnotized by the sudden change in atmosphere. It’s thick, foggy, and heavy. Toji leans closer, swinging a thick arm around the back of the wicker couch, just above your shoulders. You mirror him, intrigued by his potential proposition, as if he’s about to share a secret.

Little do you know, Toji has you exactly where he wants you. 

Breathing tobacco stained exhales against your faces, he speaks above a harsh whisper, “How’s about I fix your boy problem?”

“What do you mean?” you cock your head, all confusion and innocence.

“What’s this asshole’s name?” Toji’s fingers foxtrot across your shoulder, tickling the nape of your neck. “Gimme’ his number while you’re at it.”

“What’re you gonna’ do, kill him?” you chuckle haphazardly. 

Toji’s face remains concerningly passive, “Only if you want me to.”

You roll your eyes, “Funny.”

“Give me his name,” he presses. “Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“I’m gonna’ have to right his wrongs,” he offers cooly. “Maybe I’ll rub his face in it while I’m at it.”

Your eyebrows knit together, asking, “And how do you plan to do that?”

“Well, I’ll start with this,” he huffs. The palm on your thigh inches higher, fingers toying at the hem of your dress. The hand on your shoulder locks a hot grip onto the back of your neck, scraping at the underside of your skull. You gulp, unable to tear your sight away from his intense stare. “Hearts racing, ain’t it?”

You nod slowly, feeling so very heavy. Toji smirks, cocky and confident.

“Feeling squirmy? Thighs twitching?” he inquires, rubbing a thumb along the inside of your leg. “Can’t catch your breath?”

“Toji?” you mumble, licking at your rapidly drying lips. 

His stare locks in to the movement, all his focus on your moistened lips. “Been waiting a while to get you alone, you know.”

You hum in questioning, but you’re not really paying that close attention to what he’s saying anymore. His touch is so warm, scorching a blaze through your nerves. You feel like you might melt.

“Saw you leave your apartment,” his voice is thick with lust. “Looking so pretty. Had to check on you, seen the tears in your eyes darlin’. Knew I had to say something.”

You choke on a squeak, unable to properly respond as he continues to toy with the bottom of your dress and the hair at the bottom of your head. You shift your weight in your seat, attempting to find relief from the growing ache in your center.

He chuckles, dark and foreboding, “They just don’t know how to treat you right, do they? Don’t know what to do with you, fuckin’ morons. They don’t know how to touch you, to kiss you.”

You feel stupid as you nod once again, burning alive. “No, they don’t, Toji.”

“They gotta’ get you all squirmy and excited,” his grip on your neck shifts to your jaw, a gentle thumb brushing against your bottom lip. “Get you wanting it.”

You gulp, lashes fluttering as your gaze drops to his mouth. He twitches his smug smile, revealing a row of teeth. He’s positively fucking beaming watching you writhe in your seat. 

“Got another idea,” Toji husks. “Let me show you what a real kiss feels like, huh? You want me to do that for you, baby?”

“Yes,” you offer meekly.

With a wolfish simper, Toji paws at your waist, holding you firm and solid. “Such a pretty little thing, you need to be treated right, don’t you?”

You whimper, completely lost in all the heat and tension. A predatory glint in his olive gaze sparks. He’s got you completely trapped. 

“Look at you,” he coos. “Such a pretty little thing. You didn’t deserve any of that, did you? ‘S okay, I’m gonna’ make it all better, alright?”

Toji doesn’t kiss you right away, opting to place his mouth on your cheek. It’s soft, the kiss. Far too gentle. You choke on an impatient mewl, all broken vocals and desire. He chuckles against your skin, licking a swift wet stripe against the corner of your mouth. You shiver, enamored by the filthy tease. It only encourages Toji further, gently nipping at your bottom nip, a growl deep within his throat.

“Gotta’ ask me for it, darlin’,” he says, a hair above a whisper. “Pretty please, Toji?”

“Please,” you relent, eyelids fluttering shut.

“Please, what?”

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

Toji dives in, all restraint and playfulness abandoned. He captures your lips in a fever, crushing you completely against him. You are utterly surrounded and consumed by Toji, his arms locked around you. He moans at the embrace, but he must decide it is not enough. He breaks the kiss only for a brief pause, panting and grunting as he maneuvers you to straddle him. Your thighs part to accommodate his width, the muscles of his clothed thighs solid and unwavering.

Flushed center to center, you gasp at the contact, but it is swallowed by Toji’s eager tongue. The muscle flicks at your teeth, swooping beneath the top row to search for your reluctant tongue. Taste buds slide, your mouth the epitome of surprise, and Toji rolls you over his lap. You stammer a shocked mewl, a jolt of pleasure shooting from your barely concealed clit.

Intoxicated by the mounting heat growing in the pit of your belly, you test a confident swirl of your hips. Toji strokes your tongue in approval, a breathy laugh escaping his chest. You prep yourself to continue, to repeat the motion, but it is met with resistance. He holds you still at the hips, smacking the tops of your exposed thighs. You peel your lids apart to question him, but he simply shakes his head.

“Next time, eager thing,” he says coolly. “Gotta’ take you out on a date first.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, you gulp on a dry swallow. “When?”

“Tomorrow sound good?” he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, watching in heated focus as it bounces back to your mouth.

“Yes,” you agree without hesitation.

A part of you might feel shame for what you’re doing — locking lips with practically a stranger — but honestly, you don’t really care all that much.

Perhaps you should have.

“You can keep kissin’ me though,” Toji says. “On one little condition.”

Feeling bold, you press your lips to the edge of his sharp jaw. “Yes?”

He shutters, grip deathly tight on your hips. You cannot read his expression as he requests, “Give me that guy’s name, sweetheart.”

LACHERI © 2021-2025: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations.

[luvingjeanie]

i still get so nervous interacting with MDNI posts until i remember i’m nearly twenty years old

why am i still afraid💔

[luvingjeanie]

now i need to know choso’s reaction to watching titanic😭😭

JJK SMAU - romcom movie night !

[Situation] --- You're in for a Friday movie night with the JJK men! The vibes are saying romcom... which one will you watch together? (flirting stages with the cast) (no movie spoliers!)

Cast--- Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji x [f!reader]

Tags--- ✓SFW✓, pre-relationship (flirting), crack, fluff

Notes--- I never start out with ideas for Choso but his often end up being one of my faves to write 😂 May consider doing a part 2 (post-movie) later!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[luvingjeanie]

people need to start making out and dry humping more tbh

gojo satoru is a dry humper sorry not sorry

gojo is a tease; he loves getting you close while also keeping you so far away. he wants to see how you loose your mind with just some simple friction.

so when he strips you down to nothing but your bra and panties, he knows you’re going to get desperate. he drapes himself on the couch, pulling you into his lap, using your shoulders to press down harder on the growing bulge under his sweatpants. he can feel your heart beating through your pussy, and how you’re ready to start squirming.

your hips start to roll forward, your slit perfectly lined up with his clothed cock and slowly you start to unravel: you’re clawing at his chest, mewling gojo’s name, arching your back, chasing some kind of relief.

you’re a sight for sore eyes, and gojo can’t help but dig his nails into your waist, dragging you around on his crotch, fucking up into you, making you see stars. your panting, eyes fluttered shut, a mess of drool and moans. you can’t help but rut into him the closer and closer you get to cumming.

the fun has just begun and you’re already on your first orgasm, ruining not just your panties but leaving a damp spot on his grey sweatpants.

this makes gojo smirk, taking a handful of your ass and giving it a squeeze, rocking you through your release. he only spreading your wetness more, decorating his pants with your slick.

“look at the mess you made, baby,” he taunts, “now are you gonna help me clean it up, or should we make an even bigger mess?”

[luvingjeanie]

MAMA Y PAPA!

synopsis: you and megumi are practically married + nobara and itadori's unofficial parents

notes: yk that one tiktok sound that goes 'mama y papa. mama y papa!' or wtv thats this lol

it starts one night in the dorm kitchen.

itadori's sitting cross-legged on the counter, nobara’s painting her nails on the table, and you’re trying to cook dinner with megumi next to you, handing you ingredients like he was born to be your little sous chef.

“you two are like my parents,” itadori suddenly remarks.

you stifle a giggle. megumi doesn’t even look up. “absolutely not.”

“no, but you are,” nobara says, blowing on her wet nails. “you do the cooking and then force us to do the cleaning. you pick us up when we almost die. you get lovey-dovey with each other when you think we’re not looking.”

megumi stiffens. you laugh.

“you are so obvious,” itadori adds, looking at megumi. “you tie y/n's shoelaces for her. you argue over pizza toppings. you sleep in each other's dorm rooms. you're practically married at this point.”

nobara suddenly points a finger at you. “and you always make sure i have advil and a hair tie in my pocket before missions,” nobara grins at you. “thanks, mom.”

“that's stupid,” megumi says flatly, dumping vegetables into the pot with more force than necessary. “don’t say that.”

“what, dad?” yuji says sweetly, eyes sparkling.

“stop.”

“dad, can you pass the salt?”

“stop.”

“daddy~!”

“GET OUT.”

megumi’s ears are red as nobara howls with laughter and you almost drop the ladle as you fold over in giggles.

but despite all his grumbling, megumi can't think of any proper refutes. he knows your preferences better than his own, has stupid married couple arguments with you, and feeds you soup when you're sick. he makes sure to teach itadori about the ins and outs of the jujutsu world before he goes off on missions, and picks up things nobara drops or forgets for her.

you stick your cold feet under megumi at night, cut his fruit into stars and hearts, and leave him little sticky notes with sweet messages on them. you put extra protein into breakfast after itadori had a long night. you hold back nobara's hair and rub her back when she pukes.

and when nobara bumps into you on the way to bed, she whispers with a little smile, “seriously, though, you guys are adorable. fav couple ever.”

you smile.

and later that night, curled up in megumi’s bed while the dorm settles into sleep, you nudge his side gently.

“…they kind of have a point, ay?”

he sighs. “unfortunately.”

but the way his arm curls around you says he wouldn’t have it any other way.

masterlist

[luvingjeanie]

skirts should be the size of a belt | o.y

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

author’s note: you asked for more yuuta x mean girl reader, you shall receive more yuuta x mean girl reader @gumigirl gonna do a part two eventually just for u bby

synopsis: yuuta finally shuts his bitch of a girlfriend up with a mouthful of cock

warnings: yuuta’s a pushover (but not for long😈), throat fucking, public (in a car), reader’s a bitch, verbally insults yuuta a lot, yuuta calls reader a bitch

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

“Ugh, you’re such a fucking loser, Yuu!” You whined, arms folded against your chest, pushing your breasts together from within the confines of your low cut shirt. Huffing and frowning, you looked away from him, looking longingly to the lip gloss he refused to buy for you, almost forlorn.

He said ‘no’. No? Who did he think he was?

“Baby, it’s just that I bought you one a few days ago, I’m sorry!” He panicked, dark eyes widening with alarm, hands flying to your hips to try and turn you back to face him. But you were a stubborn one.

Honestly, you did love Yuuta, and he loved you. Perhaps it was a relationship most people didn’t understand, as to onlookers, he was scrawny, although not really but his baggy clothes said otherwise, pale, and passive, yet he somehow pulled an absolute bombshell that treated him like a wallet.

But Yuuta didn’t mind being your wallet. Anything to make you happy. Even though he couldn’t really afford it at times.

With you, Yuuta planned to take advantage of any attention you were willing to give, any affection, even a simple kiss on the cheek or brush of a hand, even if he only received said affection after happily handing you his card.

It was transactional in the most loving way.

“But this one’s a different shade! God, are you blind?” You scoffed, almost stomping your foot, hoping the threat of a public tantrum would crack him — which, knowing your Yuuta, it absolutely would.

Honestly, Yuuta could barely see a difference. In his mind, they were both just pink. Maybe this one was a little more red? Or no, maybe this one had more glitter than the other one? He didn’t know, you always had more of an eye for these things. He should trust you on it.

Complaints and insults continued to spill from your lips, some guilt tripping too. Loser. Useless. Bad boyfriend. ‘You don’t love me’.

And God, you were really wearing him down, it was a fucking talent. You looked so fucking pretty whilst doing it too, so pretty as you were borderline publicly humiliating him, voice a little shrill and too loud, far too loud, for the small beauty store.

Swallowing thickly, he gave a weary smile, glossy puppy eyes crinkling as he grabbed the lip gloss from the shelf, “You’re right, baby. Pick anything else you want.”

“Oh, Yuu!” Now suddenly chirpy and sweet again, your arms wrapped around his neck and planted a pink, wet kiss to his cheek. Mwah. “You’re so good t’me, babe, thankyouthankyou!”

That’s why he always gave in, always bending to your every will, always at your beckon and call simply because he loved to see you smile, he loved the little drops of affection you’d gift him in return for being your wallet. Your personal ATM. Your loser, pathetic boy who was fucking pussy whipped.

Even if his wallet was near spitting out moths and opening up with a puff of dust escaping, he’d give you his last cent.

“I-It’s no problem, baby,” He says breathlessly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for you.”

And he meant it. So fucking much.

Which is how he ended up exiting the mall with too many bags, none plastic, all of them canvas totes or sturdy paper ones with ribbons instead of strings, expensive and classy, only the best for his bitchy girlfriend. He had spent more money than he had liked, so much money he was utterly petrified thinking about checking his balance later on that night, but this was the happiest you had looked all day. Hell, you hadn’t even uttered the word ‘loser’ in three hours, and you even apologised for being mean.

You apologised.

“M’sorry I was so mean, Yuu,” Another kiss to his cheek while you apologised, somewhat earnestly. “Jus’ got annoyed, you know how I get, right?”

“Yeah, I know.” He murmured with a tight lipped smile as he packed the ten- no eleven- fuck, maybe twelve?- bags away into the trunk of his car.

“If you jus’ listen to me when I ask for stuff this wouldn’t happennn,” You sang, tapping away on your phone, acrylics clicking away as you texted whoever about whatever.

“Mhm,” Clipped and short, lips tightly pulled as he restrained himself.

Despite the ‘love’ you shared, despite his willingness to do anything and everything for you, realistically, he knew this wasn’t the way he should be treated. Perhaps it was the feeling of pride he got from being the loser, the outcast, that finally got the girl that made him overlook everything.

But, God, sometimes he felt close to snapping. To shut you up with a mouth full of cock and put you in your place. You were a girl that needed knocked down a peg or two sometimes.

He was a guy who prided himself on his restraint, his passive and lax demeanour, he wasn’t one for conflict if it could be avoided, but shit, you really pushed him sometimes.

“You get money, I know you do, so I don’t know why it’s so fucking difficult” You continued to yap, snippy and cheeky, as if you had won, “I do a lot for you and what? I have to beg for a fucking lipgloss-“

Slam!

The sound of metal on metal, the trunk banging closed stopped you from continuing your little bitchy tirade. Wide eyed, you looked up from your phone, looking to Yuuta who stood with his back turned, shoulders heaving and knuckled turning white with the grip he refused to let still holding onto the shut trunk of the car.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Yuu-baby,” Your snorted, phone now tucked away in your pretty pink purse that was filled with makeup and other little trinkets Yuuta know you didn’t spend a dime of your own on. “I’m teasing!”

“Teasing?” His voice still sweet and kind, ever the soft spoken boy.

You replied with a simple hum, a manicured hand resting prim and pretty on his tensed shoulder, massaging softly as if the simple gesture would erase his silent rage and multiple blows to his ego.

“Get in the back, baby, please?” He crooned from over his shoulder, biting his cheek.

Scoffing, you whipped around, “Sure, whatever.”

Once settled in the back seat, slumped back and arms folded, you sighed with your head leant back against the cool leather head rest, waiting.

Soon enough, Yuuta opened the car door and settled beside you, closing the door with a soft click. He seemed irritated, maybe even a little angry, but Yuuta never once voiced this upset, always allowing it to simmer deep inside until it eventually bubbled over, like boiling water left on the stove for too long. Although, not once had you seen this anger yourself. He used more passive, peaceful means to exert this negativity; the gym, training, even screaming into a fucking pillow whilst frustratedly fucking his fist, imagining he was fucking your soft, pliable throat instead.

“You-“ Closing his eyes, he exhaled shakily, “You’re a bitch to me.”

Oh no he fucking didn’t.

“Excuse me?!” You shrieked, turning your body towards him, your eyes now slits, burning right through him, daring him to repeat himself.

“A bitch.” It sounded foreign leaving Yuuta’s lips, not once did he actually sound angry, despite the fact that he was radiating pure rage. Clearly, he was fed up. “Y-You’re only nice when I buy you things! A-And— fuck! You yelled at me in that store, i-in front of everyone!”

You clicked your tongue, eyes rolling, almost tired, not taking his little outburst seriously in the slightest. “It’s not a big deal, I was angry, Yuu. Get over it.”

“Get- Get over it?!” He repeated, eyes widened, mouth softly popped ajar. “You called me a loser, a bad boyfriend, over fucking lipgloss. Y-You’re a bitch.”

“If you’re gonna call me a bitch, be a man and do it without stuttering like a child.” You huffed a laugh, one hand on the door handle, ready to exit the back and hop into the passenger seat so you could finally be done with this and head home.

A hand on your jaw, squishing your cheeks to form a lopsided, glossy pout on your lips. What a dick, he was just doing this on purpose now. Manhandling you, ruining your makeup, so unlike him.

“Yuu?-“ You voice was muffled.

He was fucking seething, a conflicted look in his eyes, contemplating between backing down and profusely apologising, and putting you in your place, just like how he’d dreamed of doing for months. Making you a good girl.

“I-I buy you everything you want, I-I let you treat me like a dog, a pet, and you’re always so fucking rude to me!” He rambled, voice shaken and wavering. “Jus’-“

He inhaled.

“For fuck’s sake-“ He let go, shaking his head, as if a frustrated parent disciplining a child, or an owner who keeps failing at potty training a puppy. To your dismay and confusion, he fumbled with his trousers, unzipping and unbuttoning quickly, tugging his jeans and boxers down in one, just enough to free his longer than it was thick cock, flushed and leaking.

“Seriously?” You scoffed, eyes flickering from his cock to his face, eyes incredulous and unbelieving.

“Gotta shut you up somehow…” He murmured, now kneeling on the carseat, standing heads above you, oddly imposing in comparison to his usual demeanour. Heavy cock in hands, he tapped his leaking cockhead against your lips, smearing them with the lewd gloss of his pre-cum.

Your eyes flickered up to him once more, testing him, assessing if he had the backbone to continue or if he’d pussy out, just like all the other times he had attempted to appear remotely dominant. But he showed no signs of letting.

Rolling your eyes, you decided to muse him, to play along with his charade of assertiveness. Small hand wrapping around the base of his cock, you opened your mouth, thinking giving him a quick little blowie would put him in a better mood.

But that’s far from what happened.

The moment your mouth was just about open, he thrusted in, teeth grazing against the underside of his cock until you remembered to cushion it with your tongue. Spluttering and gagging, he didn’t seem to care. In fact, the drool leaking from your lips, your gloss and liner smudging around your mouth, and mascara running only seemed to spur him on.

“Y-You do nothing but- fuck, nothing but bitch at me-“ He panted, whimpering and whining between each word as his long, nimble fingers and soft palms held your head in place, gripping tight, almost bruising if he got too lost in it all, “e-even though I do f-fuckin’ everything f’you.”

Your glossy eyes looked up to him, and right now, he was far from a loser, a pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. Right now, Yuuta looked like a whole fucking man. Jaw tensed and taut, already building sweat causing his hair to cling to his forehead, and eyebrows pulled together whilst the tendons and veins in his neck pulsed and bulged.

“H-Had’ta make you quiet, sh-shut up for once,” His voice was choked and strangled, little ‘hah hah’ panting sounds leaving his mouth continuously as he rammed down your throat, as if moulding the shape of his cock in your throat would teach you manners. Teach you respect, teach you how to love your boyfriend the way he loved you so dearly.

“Mmf, Y-Yuu-“ You gagged, mustering the strength to pull off his cock, a sheer white string of spit and cum connecting your pink coated lips to his blistering red cockhead.

Still on his knees, tact forgotten, he slumped against the leather seat, heaving eyes fluttered shut. He made no move to fuck your throat again, but it was clear he wasn’t done.

Huffing, catching your breath, you complied, giving in for the second time that day, swearing to yourself that you’d have him back on his leash as soon as you both got home.

Chest rising and falling unevenly, breath ragged, he looked at you from his peripherals, “We’re going home.”

That was it? Fuck, he didn’t even cum, nor had he touched you at all. Fixing yourself up, smoothing out your mussed hair, pushing your false lashes up a little, wiping the drool and pre-cum from your chin, you furrowed your brows, dolly eyes squinted and confused.

“Home?” You murmured.

“Mhm,” He hummed, clicking his tongue. Then, he looked to you, brows raised, “I’m not gonna fuck you in a car.”

[luvingjeanie]

jeanie hear my cries... bbg yuuta

BBG YUUTA AGENDA!!!!!

he’s so cutie and silly and whiny but he can also be such a man it makes me froth at the mouth

i’m tryna make my current yuuta wip extra long just for u bby😛😛

[luvingjeanie]

these r slowly making me become a todo girlie

like!!! i loved him before! i wanted to be his friend but now todo is boyfie😔

Hey!! I love your smau's!! You've only written two but I'm obsessed! I was wondering if I could request an smau where the reader has put on some weight (could be for no specific reason, relationship weight, new meds, stress etc) and is insecure, not feeling super great, maybe they're acting a bit differently with the boys. And then the convos show the boys reactions and how they reassure reader.

I love you all the same! Summary: You're insecure about your weight and the JJK boy is here to cheer you up!

ꕥIncludes: S Gojo. S Geto. K Nanami. T Fushiguro. S Kong. A Todo. R Sukuna. Y Itadori. M Fushiguro. T Inumaki. C Kamo. N Zenin. I Takuma.

TW: Mentions of weight gain/loss and starvation. Naoya Zenin might be a trigger warning in itself.

Ophelia is here to remind everyone that you are all perfect the way you are!! My work is fiction but if your feelings surrounding your weight are becoming too real my inbox is always open!

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for my first request! I love all of my peaches! <3333