In Class. Nerd Bf! Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader

Nanami always pays for everything. A complete pushover. The restaurant bill, your classes, your hygiene products, sometimes even part of your rent. Every time, he's the one who pulls out the card, as if it were the most natural thing to do. And even though he does it without hesitation, it weighs on you.

He often tells you that you deserve it all, that you're his priority. That he can more than afford to buy things himself. He says it with such sincerity that it's almost soothing. Almost. Despite his words, guilt whispers to you that he's giving too much and that you're taking advantage of it.

Every time, you thank him. With smiles, tender gestures, grateful 'thank yous'. But deep down, you have this need to give back even a little of everything he gives you. To show him, in your own way, that you love him as much as he loves you.

So you decide to give him a gift. Not something you buy, something you can find in stores or online, not something expensive. Just something personal, real, sincere.

So, you poured your heart into a handmade notebook, filled with photos of the two of you, of him, of shared memories. On each page, a little note, a handwritten memory, surrounded by sweet and simple decorations. You added a letter at the end, filled with your feelings for him, and a bracelet you woven in his favorite colors, delicately attached to the notebook. Then, a small bouquet of paper flowers, all wrapped in a discreet, modest ribbon.

That evening, after yet another dinner he paid for without paying, you went to his house, the gift in your hands. He didn't suspect a thing. When you handed it to him, he looked at you with slight surprise, then gently took the package.

He opened it slowly. His eyes scanned the pages. And then, a smile appeared on his face. One of those he didn't often show. A sweet, rare, sincere smile.

"You didn't have to do all that..." he murmurs, his voice a little lower with emotion.

You lower your head slightly, embarrassed but happier, your cheeks a little warm. "I wanted you to know how much you mean to me... and to thank you. It's not much, but it's all I did with my heart."

He places the notebook next to him and moves closer. And before you can say another word, he takes you in his arms. A long, gentle hug, his scent invading you and reassuring you.

"You make me so happy, you know?"

You smile against his shoulder, realizing it more and more, but you're so happy with him too.

"I should be the one saying that."

a/n: i love nanami sm omg.. ⟢﹒ masterlist

artist: su2kuna on X.

Nerdjo Series

- nerd in love.

- enterprising nerd

- it’s you?

- in class.

- study sheet.

- pervert (+18)

masterlist

The room is bathed in soft, luxurious golden light, filtered by the crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling of a five-star hotel. The hushed conversations, the clinking of champagne glasses, the elegant laughter of the elite…

Everything is perfectly orchestrated for this charity gala, carefully organized and sponsored by your husband's company, Nanami Kento.

You are handsome. Perfect, even. A long black satin dress hugs your curves, revealing just the right amount of skin on your shoulders and back. Your hair is carefully tied back, your makeup discreet but impeccable.

On your arm, Nanami radiates a sober, classic, yet irresistible charisma. Three-piece suit, fitted tie, impeccable glasses, and that calm, collected gaze, slightly tired, but still as magnetic as ever.

And yet… you're bored to death. The speeches follow one after the other, the endless introductions, the thank-yous, the emotional videos projected on the big screen... Everything is prestigious, honorable, but far too long.

Your Louboutin heels, so graceful at the beginning of the evening, have transformed into veritable instruments of torture. Every minute of standing is torture. You feel your smile twitch at times, your toes sending out silent cries for help.

But you say nothing. Out of love. Out of respect for Nanami's event. Because you know this event is important to him.

Nanami, always so attentive, notices it despite everything; he knows you so well. He glances at you discreetly between conversations, his eyes slowly sliding over your face. His hand seeks yours, brushes against it, gently squeezes it, and this simple contact is enough to melt your weariness a little.

"Are you holding up?" he whispers in your ear, his deep voice hidden beneath the murmur of the violins.

You nod, your smile slightly ironic. "I'm two seconds away from walking barefoot and throwing these heels in the trash, but otherwise, I'm fine."

He gives that rare little smile, the one he reserves just for you. The kind of discreet smile that makes your heart beat a little too fast.

"We can slip away. No one will notice."

"Are you kidding? This is your event, Ken..."

"Exactly." He leans in slightly, his warm breath sliding against your bare skin. "I've fulfilled my obligations. I gave my speech, shook all the important hands. I think we deserve a moment to ourselves. Don't you, Ms. Nanami?"

Your stomach tightens at the sound of it. He says it with such gentleness that you want to jump on him. You meet his gaze. And without a word, you understand. He's had enough, too. Not of these parties, but of having to share you with the whole world.

He gently leads you backstage, through a discreet door hidden behind velvet curtains. A deserted corridor, dim lighting. He walks in front of you, his hand holding yours, still with that natural elegance. But he's more tense.

As soon as he's sure no one is there, he turns to you, his gaze burning with something far less controlled than his usual calm.

"Take them off." His voice is soft but firm, pointing at your heels.

You raise an eyebrow. "What, my heels?"

He kneels in front of you without warning, his large hands sliding up your legs to grasp your ankles. You shudder. He slowly undoes the straps of your pumps, removing them with almost ceremonial care.

His fingers linger on your bare ankle, caressing it with a tenderness that contrasts with the impeccable image he projects to the rest of the world. "There," he says, standing up. "A little better?"

You nod, moved in spite of yourself. This gesture, as simple as it is, touches you. His hands rest on your back and under your knees, carrying you as if you weighed nothing. Your arms instinctively wrap around the back of his neck.

His hand moves away from your back and grabs your heels as he begins walking toward the exit. He looks at you and kisses your forehead. You look at him, smiling, and bring your head closer to his muscular chest.

"Do you know how ravishing you look tonight?" he murmurs, smiling.

"You're only saying that because I survived two hours of endless speeches?"

"I'm saying it because it's the truth." He kisses the corner of your mouth, then slowly moves down to your jaw. "And because I want to steal you, right here, right now. Bring you home, lie you down on the bed, kiss every inch of your body, and fuck you until you forget this horribly long gala."

"What if we don't wait until we get home?" you breathe, your voice tinged with desire and teasing. A slow, dangerous smile tugs at your lips.

"You read my mind."

a/n: I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm posting every day to make up for my absence ^^ Enjoy 😋 ⟢﹒ masterlist

If hating meant loving...

He hates how incredibly beautiful you are. Your features are so soft, so perfect, that sometimes he feels like he's looking at an angel.

He hates the way your eyes crinkle when you smile at him, a unique smile, reserved only for him.

He hates that smile that lights up your lips when something small makes you happy, as if for something insignificant.

He hates the softness of your lips when they rest against his, a tender kiss that makes him lose all reason.

He hates the way your hair blows in the wind, or the elegance with which it spreads on the pillow, forming perfect waves.

He hates the softness of your hands, which brush against his face with unbearable tenderness.

He hates the warmth of your arms when they embrace him, bringing him a comfort he thinks he doesn't deserve.

He hates the roundness of your thighs, when they wrap around him in an intimate, almost unreal embrace.

He hates the purity of your personality, the kindness that overwhelms him with every gesture, every word.

He hates the warmth and love you radiate just for him. You're his refuge without him realizing it.

He hates the way your heart seems to beat for him, even when he doesn't deserve it so much.

He hates everything about you... how is it possible to hate someone as much as he does?

the character you loves 💗 ⟢﹒ masterlist

synopsis: you have insecurities and your loving boyfriend comforts you

character [separate]: Nanami Kento x reader, Gojo Satoru x reader, Suguru Geto x reader, Toji Fushiguro x reader, Sukuna Ryomen x reader, Choso Kamo x reader, Megumi Fushiguro x reader, Yuji Itadori x reader. (fem!)

warning: complex about weight, face, stretch marks, pimples, ass, boobs, nose, thighs and too much love! (rare mention of Y/N)

words: 4550.

Kento N.

You stand in front of the mirror in your and Kento’s bedroom, staring at your reflection with a disgusted look. Your eyes linger on the curves of your body, scrutinizing every detail, hoping that something can change. You run a hand over your stomach, a soft sigh escaping your lips. “If only I were thinner…” you think, a feeling of frustration rising in you, tears threatening to fall.

The bedroom door opens slowly. Kento enters, a small smile on his lips, but he stops as soon as he sees your expression. He knows you by heart, and he immediately senses that something is wrong. Slowly, he approaches you, his gaze filled with softness, as if he wants to wrap you in a cocoon of comfort.

“You know that you are beautiful, right?” he says, his voice low, full of tenderness, but also of certainty.

You turn your head slightly, surprised to see him. His eyes stare at you with such sincerity, but your heart remains heavy. “You don’t understand, Kento. I… I feel… so bad. I can’t get rid of this. I hate my body.” Your voice trembles, marked by uncertainty and sadness.

He moves closer, and without a word, he stands behind you. His hands gently rest on your stomach, and he looks at you through the mirror, his gaze filled with love and understanding. He gently caresses your skin, as if to soothe your anxieties.

“I love you just the way you are,” he whispers, his voice soft, but firm. “No matter the curves, no matter the weight. What matters is you, the soul that hides behind this body.”

The tears threatening to fall stop for a moment, your eyes filling with tears of gratitude. His words, his gestures, everything about him surrounds you with infinite tenderness. You lower your eyes, drowning in his words.

Kento turns you around and gently takes your chin to force you to look him in the eyes. His gaze is so intense, so gentle, that you feel instantly soothed. His eyes shine with love, and you could melt in his gaze like butter.

“You are perfect for me,” he says, his voice resonating in your heart. “You don’t need to look like any standard to be beautiful. Beauty lies in what you really are.”

A small shy smile appears on your lips, a slight weight leaving your heart. Even if your complexes were not going to disappear overnight, Kento gave you the strength to face them. He gave you the strength to be yourself, fully, without needing to change anything.

“Thank you, Kento,” you whisper, your eyes shining with gratitude. “You’re right. It’s time I started accepting myself as I am.”

He smiles, a tender smile that melts your heart, and without another word, he gently embraces you. His muscular arms close around you with infinite tenderness, holding you against him, protecting you, offering you all his love. Then he kisses you, a soft kiss, full of promises and sweetness.

“And I will always be there to remind you how incredible you are,” he murmurs against your lips, before holding you even closer to him. His arms give you a feeling of absolute safety, as if nothing could ever harm you.

In his arms, you feel both strong and vulnerable, but above all, you feel loved. And with him, you know that you will eventually learn to accept yourself as you are.

Gojo S.

You stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, arms crossed around your chest as if to hide from your own judgment. A sigh escapes your lips, heavy and laden with an old insecurity that refuses to leave you. You put on a tight black dress, bought on impulse, encouraged by your friends. But now, alone under your sad gaze, you wonder if you didn't make a mistake.

A light knock hits the door, making you jump.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" Satoru Gojo's amused voice echoes from the other side. "You left to get ready ages ago. If you wanted to make me impatient, you succeeded. I already miss you, you know."

You bite your lip. Of course, he's joking, as always. But just the idea that he could look at you and... notice, paralyzes you. “I… I’m coming, give me a second,” you answer in a shaky voice that you hoped would be firm.

A moment of silence falls before you hear the creak of the door opening slowly. “Can I come in? I promise, I’ll close my eyes,” he says, although you know full well that he hasn’t. You know him well, too well.

“No, stay outside!” you protest, but it’s too late. He’s already slipped his head into the frame, a mischievous smile lighting up his face. Normally, he would melt you but he makes you uncomfortable at this moment.

“Well, good evening, beautiful…” he says, his blue eyes shining with tenderness behind his glasses. However, his smile fades slightly when he notices your discomfort.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asks, this time without any hint of mockery. He opens the door a little wider and enters, leaning against the wall.

You look away, nervously playing with your fingers. “It’s… that dress. I shouldn’t wear it. It doesn’t fit me.”

He frowns, clearly puzzled. “Why do you say that? It fits you perfectly. You look beautiful, babe.”

“No, it doesn’t,” you whisper. “She.. she.. nothing, forget it. I’m going to change.”

He tilts his head slightly, curious. “No no no. Tell me what’s wrong. You know I don’t like it when you do.” You gesture vaguely to your chest, feeling your cheeks burn. “I.. that. They’re… too small. It looks ridiculous in a dress like that.”

A silence follows your words, but it’s not awkward. It’s more of a suspended moment, where Satoru looks at you with this disarming intensity that makes your heart beat faster. Then, he bursts out laughing.

“Are you serious? Y/N, are you telling me that you’re worried about this?” You glare at him. “Stop laughing, Satoru, I’m serious!”

He raises his hands in surrender, although an amused smile still dances on his lips. “Okay, sorry. But… you have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

You narrow your eyes, unconvinced. “Gojo…”

“No, listen to me.” This time, his tone is more serious. “You know what I see when I look at you? I see a confident, funny, intelligent, and yes sexy woman. I think you’re perfect even if you have small breasts like you’re implying.”

Your cheeks heat up under the intensity of his gaze, and you lower your eyes, embarrassed. “You say that to reassure me.” He approaches slowly, placing his hands on your shoulders. “No, I say that because it’s true.”

His fingers slide up to your chin to gently lift your face. His blue eyes, as captivating as a cloudless sky, are fixed on yours. “You’re so beautiful. If anyone thinks otherwise, they’ll have to deal with me. But honestly, who would dare criticize a queen? My queen? Mine.” He smiles softly and laughs lightly.

A laugh escapes you in spite of yourself, and you shake your head. “You’re so.. I don’t know actually.”

“Are you losing your words, baby?” You roll your eyes, but a shy smile lights up your face. “Maybe yes but thank you, Gojo.”

“You’re welcome. Now, stop hiding. This dress is beautiful, and you, even more so. Come on, come on.”

He holds out his hand to you, his smile bright as always, but this time, there seems to be a silent promise in his gestures: that of seeing you as he sees you, today and always.

Geto S.

The soft light of the late afternoon sun gently seeps into your apartment, wrapping every corner in a comforting warmth. You’re sitting down, your phone in your hands. Your gaze lingers on the photos scrolling past, perfect faces, fine noses, so harmonious. With every comparison, your heart tightens a little more.

In the kitchen, Geto is cooking quietly, preparing dinner. But even as he focuses on his task, he can’t ignore your unusual silence or the subtle sadness that seems to hover around you.

He sets down the knife he’s holding and approaches you. In a few steps, he’s in front of you, crouching to catch your gaze.

“Hey, you okay, baby?” he murmurs softly.

You startle slightly, surprised, before placing your phone face down on the coffee table. “Yeah… I’m fine,” you reply, but your voice utterly lacks conviction.

He tilts his head to the side, a small smirk on his lips. “You know I’m not going to believe that, right?” You look away, a sigh escaping your lips. “It’s nothing, Geto. Just… a stupid thing.”

“Nothing that bothers you is stupid,” he replies, sitting down beside you. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, gently pulling you close and smiling at you. “Come on, tell me.”

You hesitate, nervously fidgeting with a crease in your pants. Finally, you murmur, “My nose.”

He blinks, surprised. “Your nose?”

“Yes, my nose,” you repeat, your voice trembling. “It’s too big, too… weird. Sometimes I feel like it’s all people notice. I feel like it ruins my face…”

A silence settles, but it’s not heavy. Geto looks at you with infinite tenderness, his fingers slipping into your hair to comfort you.

“Do you want to know what I think when I look at your nose?” he murmurs at last. You nod slightly, unable to meet his eyes.

“I think he’s perfect. Because it’s yours.” Your eyes timidly rise to meet his, your cheeks burning under the intensity of his gaze.

“Listen to me,” he continues. “I’m not going to tell you that you shouldn’t feel that way, because it’s normal to have doubts. But I want you to understand something: your nose is part of what makes you unique. It gives character to your face, and it’s that face that I love, more and more every single day.”

He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, so soft that your eyes instinctively close.

“And you know what else?” he adds with a playful smile. “This nose, I find it so adorable that I could spend my whole life kissing it.”

“Stop,” you protest with a quiet laugh, your cheeks now on fire. “No,” he retorts, placing another kiss, then another, until you burst out laughing. “I’m dead serious.”

You snuggle into him, burying your face in his neck to hide your smile. “You’re insufferable, Geto.”

“Maybe. But for you, I’ll happily stay insufferable,” he replies, gently running his fingers through your hair. “Because I love you. All of you. And your nose, my dear, is part of the package.”

A sigh escapes you, but this time it’s one of relief. His words settle in your heart, dispelling your insecurities like clouds under the sun.

“Thank you,” you murmur against his skin, your voice trembling with emotion.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers, his warm breath brushing your ear. “But remember, I’ll tell you as many times as you need to hear it.”

And in his arms, cradled by the golden evening light and his reassuring words, you feel your insecurity fade away. In that moment, you realize that in his eyes, you are already perfect. In your own way.

Toji F.

The morning light gently bathes the room, making the atmosphere peaceful. You stand in front of the mirror, dressed in your favorite shorts and a loose tank top. You turn slightly, pulling on the fabric to examine your reflection from different angles. But with each glance, the same thought comes back to you: “My ass is not enough.”

You lightly pinch the skin of your hips, hoping to see something change. But nothing satisfies you. For a few days, this complex has been haunting you, and today, it’s even heavier.

The door opens abruptly, revealing Toji, shirtless, in jogging pants, a lazy and amused smile hanging on his lips. He holds a cup of coffee that he places on the dresser before leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.

“So, what’s this scene? Are you casting for a fashion show or something?” he jokes, his tone mocking but tender.

You roll your eyes, sighing. “Toji, not now.” Intrigued, he enters the room, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. He walks over and stands behind you, his hands naturally coming to rest on your hips.

“Come on, tell me. You have that ‘I’m worrying too much about nothing’ face.”

You hesitate, biting your lip. Finally, reluctantly, you blurt out, “I think… my ass isn’t great.”

He stays silent, as if he needs a moment to digest your words. Then, a deep, low laugh echoes through the room. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his amused smile reflected in the mirror.

“Your ass? Seriously? Is that what you’re complaining about?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Yeah, my ass. I think it’s too flat.” Not round enough, not… attractive enough.”

Toji arches an eyebrow, letting his large hands slide from your hips to your buttocks, grabbing them without any embarrassment. He pretends to think, lightly pressing the flesh with his thumbs. “Hmm… I would say that you are completely off the mark.”

You turn your head slightly to give him a skeptical look. “Toji, be serious.”

He leans forward a little, and his voice becomes softer, although a smile persists on his lips. “I am serious. Your ass is perfect. Like, really perfect. Not too much, not too little. Just the way I like it. And believe me, I know what I am talking about.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at his words, even if you can’t help but sigh. He is unbearable, but you know that he is always honest.

He straightens up slightly, pats your behind with a familiar and slightly redneck gesture, but strangely reassuring. “Listen, you don’t need an Insta-model ass to please me. You’re you, and I’m totally fine with that.”

He spins you around so you’re facing him, his big hands still on your hips. “Seriously, if anyone tells you your ass isn’t good enough, tell me who it is. I could do the opposite to him or her.”

You burst out laughing despite yourself, shaking your head. “Toji, you’re really annoying.”

“Maybe. But I’m your annoying boyfriend, and your ass is part of the reason I’m here,” he replies with a proud smile. He places a quick kiss on your forehead before walking away to grab his coffee cup.

As he leaves the room, he calls over his shoulder, “And next time you’re in doubt, remember that this is the ass approved by Toji, your wonderful boyfriend. And that’s the best seal of quality.”

You stand there for a moment, an involuntary smile tugging at your lips. Turning back to the mirror, your gaze softens. Maybe he’s right. After all, if Toji, in all his brutal honesty, thinks it’s perfect… maybe you can start to believe him.

Sukuna R.

Sitting in front of your dressing table mirror, a sigh escapes your lips. The dim light in the room seems to amplify everything you hate about your reflection. Your fingers trace a faint scar on your cheek, an indelible reminder of a moment you’d rather forget. You lower your head, biting your bottom lip to hold back the wave of sadness rising within you. The mirror, once again tonight, is your judge, and you feel condemned.

A deep, mocking voice breaks the silence: “Are you going to keep sulking, or do you want me to smash that thing for you?”

Startled, you quickly lift your head. Your eyes meet Sukuna’s piercing gaze as he leans against the doorframe. His arms are crossed, and his teasing smirk makes it clear he’s enjoying your unease.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying to hide your discomfort.

“Me? I was waiting for you, but apparently, this mirror is more interesting than me,” he replies, stepping forward slowly, his imposing presence filling the room.

“It’s not that,” you murmur, averting your gaze. “I… I was just thinking.”

Sukuna stops behind you, leaning slightly to observe your reflection in the mirror. “Sure… You really think I’ll believe that? You look like you’re ready to fight yourself.”

You remain silent, your hands gripping the edge of the mirror. You know he won’t let it go. “I just feel… not good enough,” you finally admit, your voice barely audible.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, his expression hovering between annoyance and curiosity. His large hands settle on your shoulders, their warmth oddly reassuring despite his firm grip.

“Not good enough for what?” he asks, his tone calm but still sharp.

“For everything,” you finally exhale, your breath trembling. “All I see are the imperfections… the scars, the flaws… and I can’t figure out what you see in me.”

A heavy but not uncomfortable silence falls. Sukuna doesn’t respond immediately, letting your words linger in the air. Then, slowly, he leans down until his face is level with yours. Your eyes meet his in the mirror.

“Do you want to know what I see?” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly. “I see someone strong enough to catch the attention of a king like me. Someone who didn’t run away from my worst sides. Those scars you hate? They’re proof you survived. Those ‘flaws’? They make you real. Unique.”

His fingers gently brush your cheek, tracing the faint scar you were staring at just moments ago. “You think I care about a perfect face? I could have a thousand perfect faces if I wanted. But you, you’re so much more than what you see in this damn mirror.”

Your throat tightens, your eyes burning with emotion. You’re not used to this kind of honesty from him. You turn slightly to look at him, finally letting your guard down.

“You’re rarely this kind, Sukuna. I could get used to it,” you say with a small smile, your voice a little lighter.

“Enjoy it. It doesn’t happen every day,” he replies with a toothy grin, though a soft glimmer lingers in his crimson eyes. “But listen to me: I won’t let anyone, not even you, put down the woman who shares my life. If you start criticizing yourself again, I swear I’ll smash that mirror.”

A light, genuine laugh escapes you. “I believe you would.”

“Of course I would,” he says, standing up straight, his usual arrogance returning. “Now stop wasting your time here. You’re way too beautiful to be sitting in front of a mirror.”

You nod, a comforting warmth replacing the weight you carried just moments ago. Sukuna, in all his bluntness and intensity, had just given you one of the most precious moments you’d ever experienced.

You take his outstretched hand, rising to follow him. Behind you, the mirror reflects the faint smile on your face, and for the first time in a long time, you find it almost beautiful.

Choso K.

The TV is playing a movie in the background, but you’re not really following the story. Slumped on the couch, in shorts and Choso’s t-shirt, you can’t focus on anything other than your thoughts. Choso, calm and relaxed, sits next to you, his arm casually resting on the back of the couch. His presence is soothing, as always, but tonight, you feel too lost in your own thoughts.

You look down at your thighs, slightly exposed by the shorts you’re wearing. They feel wide, too wide, for your taste. A wave of dissatisfaction rises in you, and you adjust your shorts to cover your thighs a little more.

“You’ve been doing this since earlier.” Choso’s soft voice pulls you out of your thoughts. He has turned his head towards you, his deep eyes fixed on you with a usual tenderness.

“Do what?” you ask, even though you know very well what he’s talking about. “Pull on your shorts.” Hide your thighs.” He tilts his head slightly, as if to study you more closely. “What’s wrong?”

You look away, embarrassed. “Nothing. It’s… It’s stupid.”

He shifts slightly, moving closer to you, and places a gentle hand on your thigh, just enough for you to feel its warmth. “If it bothers you, then it’s not stupid. Tell me.”

You sigh, hesitating for a moment before blurting it out. “My thighs. I find them… too big. They make me self-conscious. I know, it’s ridiculous, but I don’t like them right now...”

Choso looks at you for a moment in silence, and you worry that he’ll find your confession absurd. But instead, he slowly slides his hand over your thigh, in a reassuring gesture, and murmurs softly, “They’re perfect.”

You raise an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Perfect? ​​You’re exaggerating.”

He shakes his head, a genuine smile on his lips. “I’m serious. You know, what I like about you is that everything about you seems… real. They’re not ‘too’ big. They’re exactly how they’re supposed to be.”

You blush, touched by his sincerity. “You’re just saying that to please me.”

He lifts his hand to gently brush your face, his gaze fixed on yours. “No, I say that because it’s true. Every time I see you, everything about you seems beautiful. And your thighs?” He pats one of them gently, his smile widening slightly. “They’re the most comfortable place in the world. Do you realize how many times I rest my head on them when we watch a movie?”

You burst out laughing despite yourself, unable to keep a straight face in the face of his soft but teasing tone. “You’re so cute, you know that?”

He shrugs. “If it makes you smile, then that’s fine with me.” Then he gently pulls you against him, wrapping you in a warm and secure embrace. “Stop hurting yourself with thoughts like that. You’re beautiful, always. You’re my wonderful girlfriend.”

You snuggle against him, a peaceful smile on your lips. With Choso, your complex seems less heavy, as if it fades under his sincere love. You love him so much.

Megumi F.

The morning dawned with an almost surreal softness. You stretched under the covers, then went to the bathroom to start your daily routine. But that morning, a small big detail made you jump.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, and your heart grew heavy when you saw several pimples on your face. You bit your lip, annoyed, knowing full well that it would tarnish your mood during the day.

You gently rubbed the skin on your face, trying not to let frustration take over. This kind of morning, you were tired of seeing them appear without warning. With a sigh, you quickly got dressed and left the bathroom. You didn't really want to face Megumi in this state.

You entered the kitchen, where he was already making coffee, as usual. Megumi looked up at you, a calm but attentive gaze that never failed to make you feel special. But that morning, you didn’t feel like you were up to that gaze.

“You’re beautiful, Y/N.”

Megumi said, without even needing to look at you completely, as if he knew exactly what was going on in your head. He knows you so well that it’s scary. His voice, soft but marked by a sincerity that he knew how to bring out well.

You looked down, embarrassed. “But look… at my pimples. They’re everywhere. It’s really ugly, don’t you think?”

Megumi looked at you and approached you. His hands, large but infinitely soft, delicately lifted your chin to force you to look at him. His face remained implacable, but his eyes were full of kindness.

“Do you really think it bothers me?” he asked, his voice cold but looking genuinely interested. “Imperfections are human. What matters is how you feel about yourself.”

You shrugged, your gaze avoiding Megumi’s. You couldn’t understand why these little imperfections made you feel so vulnerable. “I know,” you murmured, “but sometimes, I can’t accept it. And you deserve better than a girlfriend with pimples on her face.”

Megumi stared at you for a long time, then he gave a small smile, softer than anything you had ever seen from him. He took your hand in his, squeezing it gently.

“I’m with you for you, Y/N. Not for your perfect face, but for your heart and soul. And you know that very well. So, don’t worry about it. These little pimples don’t change anything for me.”

You felt a soft warmth spread through you, and a huge weight lift from your shoulders. Megumi, even with his cold nature, always knew exactly how to comfort you.

“Thank you, Megumi,” you said, a shy smile playing on your lips. He gently pulled you towards him, placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Always. I’ll remind you every morning, I’ll make it part of my routine.” You chuckled and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, realizing that no matter the imperfections, you had found someone who accepted you as you were, without judgment. You felt completely at peace with yourself.

“Come on. Let’s have breakfast.”

Megumi said, his voice still soft but firm, and he guided you to the table, ready to share a simple breakfast. And this morning, the pimples were nothing more than an insignificant detail compared to the love you had for each other.

Yuji I.

You take one last look in the mirror before leaving the bathroom, your gaze lost on the small stretch marks that mark your skin. For some time, they have been bothering you, but today, it is as if they are more visible than usual. You hate them, these marks. They remind you of times when you felt less beautiful, less up to par.

Suddenly, you hear a noise behind you. Yuji, in an awkward but kind gesture, enters the room, not really realizing your concentration on your reflection. He approaches, his arms wide open, ready to give you a hug.

“Hey babe, why don’t you come give me a hug instead of staring at this mirror?” he says, his voice warm and playful.

You hesitate for a moment, shame pricking you a little. You turn your body slightly, trying to hide your belly.

Yuji, always so attentive when it comes to you, notices your gesture. He approaches slowly, and with his bright smile, he places his hands on your hips.

“You know that you are perfect as you are, right?” He looks at you tenderly. “You are beautiful, you amaze me every moment. And these stretch marks, they represent you. They make you even more you. You are even more magnificent with them so don’t doubt yourself anymore. Okay?”

He pauses then smiles widely, adds: “Besides, I am convinced that if you leave them, they will end up becoming works of art. A bit like me with my scars after all these battles.”

You can’t help but smile when you hear his contagious laughter. Yuji has this talent of transforming awkward moments into bursts of laughter and sincere affection. He hugs you, and you feel the warmth of his support, this security that he offers you without even thinking.

“I love you as you are, with or without stretch marks. They don’t change the beauty I see in you.”

You let yourself go in his arms, your heart soothed, and for once, you no longer worry about your stretch marks. He has this power to make your doubts disappear and make everything so simple.

any opinion is appreciated! thanks for reading till the end 💗

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© 2025 itelya. All work belongs to @itelya. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

enterprising tutor. nerd! gojo satoru x fem! reader.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

Gojo Satoru’s mocking voice pulls you out of your already fragile concentration. Sitting across from you, glasses on his nose, he stares at you with that smug look that makes you want to throw your notebook at his face.

You squeeze your pencil. “If you stopped talking in riddles, maybe I’d understand better.”

He laughs softly, his smile widening his lips as if he found the situation amusing. With a lazy gesture, he flips through your notebook, his index finger casually tracing the margin of an equation you’re supposed to solve.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s not that complicated… You take this function, you derive it, and hop, you have your result.”

“ ‘hop’? Do you think it’s magic or what?” you growl, glaring at him.

Gojo rests his chin in his palm and stares at you, the shadow of his glasses half-hiding his piercing blue eyes. “To me, math is a bit like magic. It’s all about logic and elegance.”

“You’re an insufferable tutor.”

He smiles wider. “And yet, you keep coming to me for tutoring. Interesting reasoning.”

You cross your arms. “I have no choice, I have a test tomorrow. And for some reason, my teacher thought it was a good idea to stick me with you.”

Gojo clicks his tongue, pretending to be offended. “Ouch, that hurts. Are you implying that I’m a bad tutor?”

You sigh, your cheeks a little hot. The problem isn’t that he’s a bad teacher. It’s that he’s… distracting. His messy white hair, his cheeky smile, the way he always leans a little too close to you when he talks… Everything about him is an invitation to lose track.

As if to prove your point, he suddenly leans in, his face inches from yours. “Hm? You’re not listening.”

You pull away abruptly, your heart pounding. “Yes, yes, I am listening, you stupid nerd!”

His smile stretches even wider. “Oh? So tell me, what did I just explain?”

You open your mouth… and close it again immediately. Total silence. The void in your brain.

Gojo bursts out laughing. “Ah-ha! I knew it! You’re too busy staring at me to follow my explanations!”

You instantly turn red. “You’re so self-centered!”

He presses his fist to his cheek, looking falsely thoughtful, and smiles even wider. “It’s not my fault if I’m fascinating~.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m going to fail my test because of you… Thank you.”

Gojo picks up your notebook and writes something in it. When you look down, you see that he’s written down an equation with a sentence scribbled in blue ink just below it:

“If you pass, I’ll buy you a bubble tea. If you fail… we’ll do another tutoring session. Just you and me.”

You look up at him, but he pretends nothing, an enigmatic smile on his lips then winks at you.

Aren’t nerds supposed to be outgoing and not so enterprising?

nerd gojo series - masterlist

pervert. nerd bf! gojo satoru x fem! reader (+18)

You're sitting in the study hall with Gojo, your boyfriend, studying for next week's exams. The atmosphere is studious, or at least it was until he asks you to re-explain a concept he didn't quite grasp. You begin to explain, focused, patiently detailing each point, but very quickly, you notice that he's not really listening to you.

You turn your head towards him, intrigued, and see his face red, his breath short. "Gojo? What's—" You stop abruptly, looking down.

You see him. His hand, slowly sliding over his straining cock, barely hidden under the table. Your eyes widen in surprise. "Bro, what the hell? Are you serious?"

He nods slowly, visibly embarrassed but unable to stop himself. You know he gets turned on easily, but this time, you're shocked. He's a pervert, but it makes you laugh.

"What put you in this state?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He looks at you, feverish, his cheeks flushed with desire, his glasses sliding slightly down his nose, and his lips parted, as if he's struggling to breathe.

"Your voice... You. Just you. I need you, baby... please..." His voice is low and raspy, filled with desire for you. He's so needy for you.

How could you say no when he's begging you with a face like that? You slide your hand under the table, down to his crotch, and the heat emanating from it makes you shiver. His cock is hard, swollen, the head reddened and already glistening with precum. You laugh softly, your hand molding to his shape.

"You dirty nerd pervert..." you whisper, moving closer to his ear. You feel his cock throb beneath your palm. Your hand continues its slow strokes along his hot length.

You feel him shudder beneath your touch, his fingers clenched on the edge of the table, as if he's fighting not to moan too loudly. The room is deserted, but the slightest noise could attract attention... and that's perhaps what makes the scene even more exciting. The thought of possibly getting caught excites you.

"You really have no self-control, Gojo... This is a study room, pervert," you breathe with a mocking smile. He doesn't say anything, barely moans, his pleading eyes fixed on yours. His hips lift slightly, seeking more contact.

"Fuck... your hand is so soft..."

You stroke him slowly, savoring his expression, his cheeks reddening and reddening, his breathing quickening with each stroke of your palm.

"Are you turned on just by my voice? I didn't think you were like that, gojo."

"It's... it's stronger than I can help. You're talking and I just want to take you against the table..."

He moans at the same time without holding back, his words making you shiver, and yet you maintain control. He's the one losing it, not you. At least, not yet.

"Shh..." you say, placing a finger on his lips. "You don't want anyone to hear us, do you?"

You pick up the pace a little, and he bites his lip, holding back a deep moan. You feel his thighs tense, his stomach tightening with the effort of containing himself.

"Are you going to come for me right now? Just like that?" you whisper, your eyes shining with desire. "You're such a naughty boy, Gojo..."

"I... I'm going to..." His words get tangled in his throat, feeling his release coming, but you abruptly pull your hand away. He looks at you, stunned, panting, his dick swollen and twitching in the open air.

"Did you think I'd let you come that easily?" you whisper with a small laugh. You stand up slowly, walk around the table, and kneel in front of him, looking up at him.

"Do you want me to make you come? Ask nicely... Be good for me."

You look up at him from the floor, your knees barely touching the cold wooden floor of the study room. Your hands on his thighs, your head slightly tilted, and that look, the one that drives him crazy. Gojo struggles to speak, breathless, his face half hidden by his crooked glasses.

"Please..." he murmurs, his voice almost breaking.

"Please what?" you whisper with a slow smile.

"Keep going... I can't take it anymore. I want to come. Please baby... please."

You let him stew for a second longer before leaning in. Your mouth just brushes the tip of his cock, barely grazing the hot, taut skin. He moans, almost too loudly, and you lift a finger to your lips.

"Shh... we're supposed to be studying, aren't we?"

You don't torture him any longer. You place a kiss on the glistening tip, then another lower down, before slowly sliding your tongue along its length, savoring his reaction. He tilts his head back, his hips shaking slightly. You swallow him slowly, with your usual gentle, sensual way.

He murmurs your name like a prayer, his fingers finding refuge in your hair, never forcing you, but pleading in their own way. You vary the rhythm, sometimes slow, deep, then faster, hungrier. He's on the verge of exploding. You can feel it. His whole body trembles beneath you.

"I'm going to... baby- ngh..." he begins in a broken breath. You don't stop him. You go with him all the way, welcoming him completely, without blinking. His body tenses, his thighs contract, and he spills into you with a stifled moan.

You stay there while he comes back down, before slowly rising again. You swallow hard because he's come so much and wipe the corners of your lips with a playful smile.

"There. A good break between two studies, right?"

He looks at you, still catching his breath, then laughs softly, still flushed with pleasure. He straightens his clothes and looks at your entire body.

"You're lucky there are people around." His voice is low and still hoarse. You shrug as you sit down next to him again, grabbing a sheet of notes.

"I'm always lucky. Can I repeat my explanation?"

"Of course, my love." He smiles at you and adjusts his glasses before focusing. On you. Obviously.

a/n: first smut of the series yummyyy 🤭 tysm for +400 followers ilysmm💗🥹

nerd gojo series - masterlist

Boyfriend! Izuku is tenderness personified. He's attentive to the smallest details, always listening to what you like, what makes you smile, even when you don't say anything. He remembers everything. Even what you thought you said in passing. He jots it down somewhere, in a small corner of his mind, to remember it later.

Boyfriend! Izuku loves giving you little gifts. They're never extravagant things. They're presents with real meaning. Small things, but they shine with thoughtfulness and love for you.

Boyfriend! Izuku also likes writing you letters. Letters full of beautiful, well-written words because he wants every sentence to be perfect. He draws clumsy little hearts, but so cute. He puts everything he feels for you into them; you can't help but shed a little tear while reading them.

Boyfriend! Izuku also creates things just for you. Paper flowers, often tulips in your favorite color, carefully folded during his rare moments of rest. He offers them to you, embarrassed but proud, hoping it will make you smile.

Boyfriend! Izuku blushes when you kiss his cheek in thanks. He looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, because you are. Even when you're at your worst.

a/n: Izuku is so the kind of man I love—nerdy and stuttering for you—even though older men are my favorite type all the time>>🤭 ⟢﹒ masterlist

It's your first day in Malaysia for your honeymoon with Nanami. He's prepared everything to make you feel comfortable. He would do anything for you, his sweet and pretty little wife.

He takes you to the beach with a folding chair on your back, a bag with your belongings and food in one hand, and a large watermelon in the other.

Your feet walk on the warm sand of the beach, and the embers of the wind caress your face and hair. Your pretty dress accentuates your curves and exposes your skin to the sun.

Nanami looks at you with love and admiration. You are so beautiful. He is lucky to have you as his wife for the rest of his life. His cheeks turn slightly red as he looks at you as if it were the first time.

"I can see why you chose Malaysia for our honeymoon." Your voice is sweet as honey, and your smile makes him melt. You are magnificent.

You look at him and say, "Dear, I told you to let me hold some..." To be honest, you were a little embarrassed to be carrying anything but your little bag, even though you knew Nanami didn't want you to carry anything.

"Absolutely not." He puts the watermelon in his other arm, takes your soft hand in his firm one, and pulls you to a quiet spot. "Come on, darling."

Once you're there and settled in, you sit with Nanami on your large beach towel. You rummage lightly in your bag and pull out an orange. "Do you want an orange?"

"Yes, please." Nanami comes up behind you, places an arm around your chest, and kisses your shampoo-scented hair. Your hand instinctively places itself on his arm, and you smile.

"Peel it for me." A low groan escapes his throat, and he takes the orange and sets it in a corner. You look at him skeptically. Is he excited?

His other hand slides slowly between your legs. His fingers caress your panties, slightly damp with anticipation. You feel your pussy throb at his mere touch, as if your body is responding without you even thinking about it.

"Fuck, darling, I want to make you cum on this beach for our first day of honeymoon. Do you allow me, baby?" His voice is deep and hoarse with desire for you.

"Of course I allow you, idiot," you breathe with a teasing smile. Your voice is low, barely above a whisper, as if the pleasure overwhelming you is already preventing you from speaking normally.

His fingers slowly tickle your clitoris through the fabric, and his free hand slips under your light dress to cup your breast.

You gasp softly, your body tensing under his caresses. He gently pinches your nipple between his fingers, playing with it while his lips rest on your neck, sucking on your skin and kissing it. Then, he pushes your panties to the side.

The fresh afternoon air brushes against your lower lip, sending a shiver up the back of your neck. He looks at you, his eyes burning, as if he wants to etch every expression on your face into his memory.

"You're so beautiful like this..." he murmurs, before sliding a finger inside you, slowly, deeply. You moan softly, unable to hold back the sound, but it could easily be heard even if you were in a very private corner.

He adds a second finger, curving it slightly to find that precise spot that's driving you crazy, and his movements become deeper.

Your back arches, your breathing quickens. You grip the back of his neck, turn your head, and bury your face against his shoulder to stifle the moans rising within you. He continues to stimulate your clitoris with his thumb, at the same time as he penetrates you with his fingers.

It's too good, too good.

Nanami, he doesn't take his eyes off you. He watches your every tremor, your every sigh, he breathes in your pleasure as if it were his own drug. Your pleasure depends on yours.

His fingers move faster now, harder, until you explode with a muffled cry against his neck, your body shaking with spasms, your hand clenched in his hair.

He holds you against him, supports you, kisses your forehead as you catch your breath. You're still panting, your heart beating like a drum in your chest.

"There, Mrs. Nanami... first orgasm as my wife, validated." He laughs softly, proud of himself, and you burst into a breathless laugh, still trembling but happy.

You pull away and turn slightly to look at him, your cheeks flushed, your eyes shining with excitement.

"Your turn, my husband..." you look at him and smile. Your fingers are already sliding down his fly. You're definitely planning on making him cum too.

a/n: It's been a while since I've posted, bruh... so here goes ^^ I'm posting a one-shot this week - about Nanami - so if you want to be tagged, lmk 💗 ⟢﹒ masterlist

Inspiration: https://x.com/yunonoaii/status/1901914370915119341?s=46&t=X-HaPE_HhJcar9ofo0IwiQ

it’s you? nerd! gojo satoru x fem! reader

The party is buzzing around you, the music crackling in the air and the laughter of students blending with the warmth of the room. You’re making your way through the crowd when your eyes land on him. Gojo.

But this isn’t the Gojo you know, the one who spends his days buried in books with his head deep in impossible equations.

No, tonight, he’s totally different.

His hair is more styled than usual, his glasses almost forgotten at the tip of his nose, and he’s wearing a slightly unbuttoned black shirt, revealing muscles you’ve never noticed before.

He’s no longer the nerd from your quantum physics class, he’s become someone else. He stands by the bar, a drink in hand, observing the room, and when he spots you, a smile curls on his lips.

“So, are you here to enjoy the night or just watch?” he says in a low voice, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Gojo? Is that really you?” You raise an eyebrow, a playful smile appearing on your lips.

He bursts out laughing, a deep sound that makes you shiver. “Yeah, it’s me. The nerd you see in class is just a variable. Tonight, I’m a constant… and you know constants are the most important, right?”

You laugh, the mathematical comparison taking you by surprise. “A constant?” you smile. “You talk math even outside of class…”

He laughs and hands you a drink. “Sorry, it’s the nerd Gojo taking over.”

He looks you straight in the eyes, his smile widening. “I’ve calculated everything, by the way. And this evening? It’s going to be… irreducible.”

“So, does that mean tonight, you’re not just a nerd with complicated theories?” You can’t hide the shiver in your voice.

“No,” he says, “Tonight, I’m no longer just a nerd. I’m ready to prove to you there’s more to my life than theorems and equations.” His eyes sparkle with challenge. “And you’ll be the proof that even a simple night can turn into the perfect formula.”

A small laugh escapes your lips. You’ve never seen Gojo like this before. “Alright, I’ll follow you in this equation then. Let’s see if your result is as perfect as you claim.”

Gojo smiles widely, his eyes sparkling. “You’ll see, Y/N.”

nerd gojo series - masterlist