You Don't Know When You Lost Control Anymore.

Izuku Midoriya is the sweetest boyfriend you've ever had. He listens to you, supports you, reassures you, understands you, cherishes you, loves you. He's so cute.

Izuku Midoriya listens to you when you feel bad about yourself or when you have personal or professional problems and gives you the best advice he can give you.

Izuku Midoriya enthusiastically supports you when you have a new project or a new ambition. He wants you to succeed in your life.

Izuku Midoriya understands you when you want to be alone to think or when you're going through a difficult time and makes you understand that if you need him, he's there.

Izuku Midoriya reassures you when your insecurities take over your life and threaten to destroy your beautiful heart.

Izuku Midoriya cherishes you as much as he can. He gives you smiles so sincere that your heart melts, prepares your favorite dish when you have a low morale or kisses you gently to soothe you.

Izuku Midoriya loves you and even more when you spend time together even the simplest. The smiles, the small gestures, the sweet words, and the kisses that you give him, melt him.

Izuku Midoriya is madly in love with you as you are madly in love with him.

Izuku Midoriya is the number 1 hero and your hero.

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 💗

pls note and reblog!

masterlist

requests: OPEN.

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

if I count w/ my pinterest board and my album that I made 4 nanami, I have more than 500 fanart of him.. am I crazy? maybe 😭😭 but if it's him its okay 🤭

Hes so handsome pls-

Nanami finally comes home after an interminable day. His colleagues were unbearable, his boss had foisted more last-minute work on him, the coffee from the vending machine tasted horrible... but the worst part of it all? It was the absence.

Your absence.

He had missed you terribly. You, his wife, his refuge, the only one capable of erasing the gloom of a daily life that was slowly killing him.

When he pushes open the front door, tired but in a hurry, it's your body he instinctively seeks with his gaze. And he finds you, on the couch, half asleep, bathed in dim light.

You are sublime. Your black lace nightie hugs your body like a second skin, so short that it reveals the base of your thighs, so thin that it hints at the full curves of your breasts. Your skin seems soft, warm, almost unreal.

You are there, spread out on the couch. He closes the door behind him, gently, as if not to break the magic of the moment. His steps are slow, controlled, but every fiber of his being already wants you.

He steps forward, kneels between your slightly parted legs, and spreads them a little wider, tenderly, with a silent hunger.

Your pussy is already wet, glistening, as if your body had anticipated his return. The thought of you waiting for him like this excites him even more. You are such a devoted wife, willing to satisfy him.

At the same moment, you open your eyes. Your eyelids flutter slowly, your gaze, still clouded by the torpor of sleep, meets his. You smile, surprised but pleased to see him, and before you can even say a word, he leans towards you and captures your lips in a deep, almost desperate kiss.

His hands, large and firm, rest on your waist, sliding over your bare skin down to your thighs. He caresses you like a hungry man, thirsting for you. His fingers linger on your warm skin, leaving shivers in their wake. He slowly moves up your stomach, his lips gently moving along your jaw, then your neck.

You moan softly, your body instinctively arching under his caresses. You place your hands in his hair, clinging to it gently, guiding his face against your chest, which he soon covers with feverish kisses.

He whispers to you how much he's missed you, how much he's thought about you all day, how much he's needed you.

You hug him tighter, your breath quickening because your body knows what he wants. Nanami devours you with his gaze, then kisses you, slowly, as if he wants to memorize every inch of your mouth—even though he already knows it.

He's not rushing. He's savoring it. Because he's waited for this moment, fantasized about it, and now that you're here, offered up, vibrant, he intends to make you come as you deserve because you are his beautiful wife after all.

a/n: I thought about doing a sequel, but I'm not sure... let me know if you want a sequel! Tyy for reading 💗 ⟢﹒ masterlist

I WANT TO POST SO MUCH BUT I HAVE TO FINISH THE OTHER CHAPTERS RAAWHH WHYYY 🤧🤧??

Okay. I wanted to wait a bit before posting a taglist, but no problem, I'll do it anyway! Just comment if you want to be tagged when each chapter is released!

VERY SHORT AND BIT ROUGH SYNOPSIS: You, a young peasant woman in the Shibuya kingdom, help the handsome, injured Prince Nanami without recognizing him.

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

need help? salarymen! Nanami Kento x fem! black reader.

synopsis: you help your overworked colleague to solve his little -big- problem.

warning: nsfw (MDNI), creampie, sex in an office, perv nanami?, sucking d!ck, precum, sperm, beg, blowjob, dirty name, I think it’s all. (emphasis on black reader but accessible for everyone!)

words: 2430.

masterlist

Nanami was just about to leave after a long, exhausting day when his boss appeared behind him, as if on cue, to dump more work on his desk. "What an asshole", Nanami thought, forcing a polite smile as he reluctantly accepted the extra burden. He despised overtime, yet it seemed to follow him like a shadow.

Nanami got to work, cursing his boss. His gaze turned to his colleagues, who were packing their things to go home to relax after a long day. Unlike them, he was stuck here, chained to his desk like a fucking slave. He hated this job with every fiber of his being.

An hour later he decides to take a break. he had too much extra work. His boss wanted him dead? If that's not the case, he still doesn't believe it.

He closed his eyes, his mind wandering to bread, the last book he started but couldn't finish, his old life in jujutsu, and sex. Sex. He missed it.

He was not a sex addict but the pleasure of having a woman to fuck as he wanted and submissive to him. He loved. He wanted to taste again this pleasure that he lost for a few months.

He suddenly thinks of the colleague he often meets.

She was so beautiful. Her afro that sublimated her. Her brown eyes with which she looked at him so intensely. Her slightly pink and luscious black lips whose lip gloss sublimates even more these lips and her white teeth that she exposed so proudly when she smiled at him.

He wondered how good those lips would feel around his cock, how her lip gloss would stick to the base of his dick, how her intense tear-filled gaze would look at him and how her mascara would run with it.

Damn, he's horny as hell.

To make matters worse, he was thinking about the cleavage that revealed those fucking big brown breasts that reflected the sunlight. He wanted to stick his head in there. His fucking big ass in those pencil skirts that showed off his ass more than ever.

His mind wandered even more, haunted by the way she was affecting him. His hand instinctively went down to his pants, with a feverish gesture, he undid his pants and his boxer releasing his erection into the open air. He began to go back and forth on his dick thinking about how he would fuck her like she deserves.

"Fuck.. y/n.", he moans and grunts thinking he's alone upstairs.

Light footsteps sounded behind Nanami, but he paid them no mind, lost in inappropriate thoughts about his colleague. They stopped inches away from him, almost pulling him out of his reverie.

Noticing a presence near him, he removes his hand from his cock and opens his eyes. It was y/n who was next to him. You look at him surprised but a glimmer of desire passes in his eyes. You smile and look at his big veiny cock directed towards you.

"Y/n? Fuck! Sorry forget it please… I'm begging you."

“Forget it? Impossible,” you smile and point to his cock that is throbbing under your gaze, precum dripping from its red tip and begging for attention.

"Please..", you laugh lightly and move closer to him. You take his jaw in your hand and force him to look you in the eyes.

"Who knew my unchalant coworker was such a pervert, jerking off at work and moaning my name?"

“Y/n…”, his voice breaks. He looks at you helplessly but so excited under your words and your intense gaze.

"Need help? I'm feeling generous I want to help you with your problem nanami.", your whisper in his ear in such a sensual way that his cock moves.

"Please.", you smile and kneel in front of him. You continue to look at him then place your hand so soft on his needy cock that he could cum right away.

You start to touch him slowly, testing his patience. You spit on your hand and speed up your hand movements. He watches the contrast of your brown hand jerking his white cock. Fuck, he doesn't know why but it turns him on even more.

You place light kisses on his pretty veins and his tip then lick his length but still don't put him in your mouth. He can't take it anymore. He just wants his cock in your wet and warm mouth. His dominant aura takes over.

His hand slides into your carefully styled afro and tugs on it, forcing you to look at him. You smile at him. This is what you wanted. For him to make you submissive to him like in your wet dreams about him. You just dream of his big cock in your mouth.

Damn, you're horny as hell.

"Be a good girl for me. Put it in your mouth.", he removes his hand from your hair, sliding it over your cheek to caress you. You open your mouth, so eager to want to satisfy him. "Stick out your tongue.", you do of course. He takes the base of his cock and slaps your tongue. The precum spurts into your mouth.

He removes his hands from you and lets you do it, not wanting to rush you too much even though he wants to do such dirty things to you right now. You close your mouth on him and tease his tip with your tongue. He tastes so good. You could become addicted.

He moans softly, looking you as you stare at the blond hairs at the base of his cock promising you that he'll manage to stick your lips to it one day.

You start swallowing each inch by inch into your hot mouth and hollow your cheeks to give him more pleasure. You breathe through your nose so your breath settles on his sensitive big dick which makes him tremble in spite of himself.

You smile and start sucking him and accompanying your hand to compensate for the inches you can't take. You spit on him to make it easier. Your other hand starts playing with those filled and warm balls.

You lick it, suck it, jerk it, spit it, drool on it. You're a fucking mess. Your face.. Fuck, it's sexy and messed up at the same time. Your eyes are filled with tears and black from your mascara that ran because of your tears. Your chin is filled with drool, spit and precum.

Your little black panties were ruined, you were sure of it seeing how wet you were just because you sucked him and he mistreated you like he wanted you in his life. Your feet were shaking but you didn't care you preferred to take care of the man who obsessed you every day. You weren't in your normal state just like him.

Nanami looks at your defeated and horny face and the floor soaked with your fluids leaking from your panties. Shit. Were you such a slut for him? The thought makes him laugh inwardly. You were better than in those dreams.

He suddenly pulls his big soaking wet dick out of your mouth and gasps loudly. He was going to cum. He wants to make the moment last longer. You look at him surprised and astonished at the disappearance, your mouth feels lonely and empty. You could have cried because of that.

"Fuck Y/n. You said I was a pervert but look at you you're so horny just sucking my cock.", he smiles and watches you. "You're so slutty my angel."

"Nanami…"

"Need help? I'm feeling generous I want to help you with your problem Y/n.", he smiles wickedly and repeats the same sentence you told him before.

"Please.", he smiles and grabs you by the jaw and pulls you up. Your legs are shaking and threatening to collapse. You curse yourself for wearing such uncomfortable heels.

He takes his things off his desk and puts you on it. He slides his hands on your waist and brings his face closer to yours. How could he resist you for so long? You're so beautiful. One of his hands places itself on your face and wipes away your tears.

You slide your hands around his neck and move closer to him and look him straight in the eyes. How could you resist him for so long? He's so sexy. You kiss him so shyly that you don't recognize yourself. You close your eyes and open your legs.

He kisses you back softly wanting to be gentle with you. Your tongues intertwine together. You taste each other. It feels so good. He sees you close your eyes and does the same. He gets between your legs.

His dick snakes under your skirt and rubs against your soaked panties. You moan into the kiss and so does he. Damn why are you doing the same things? Is your future mapped out to be with this man? You pray inwardly that it will be the case.

You pull away from each other, a trickle of drool connects you. You're panting so hard. His other hand slides up your skirt to pull it up to your waist and then his fingers tease your folds through your wetness. He brings those fingers to his mouth.

“You taste so good. I could get addicted.”, he wets his fingers with his drool and puts his fingers back near your needy and hot pussy. “Do you think you deserve these fingers baby?”

Your mind is too muddled to speak but you nod. You need it terribly. Those big thick fingers stretching your insides, you've dreamed of them countless times.

"I guess I can do you that favor.. you sucked my cock amazingly. That mouth was made for me wasn't it?" He strokes your slightly dry bottom lip. He licks your lips and kisses you again but more roughly.

He moves your black panties to the side and rubs his fingers against your soaking black folds. His thumb circles your clit that needs attention. You moan Nanami's name and beg for his fingers.

A smile stretched his lips seeing you so eager. Without waiting, he slid a finger into your tight, hot entrance, with disconcerting ease. A moan escaped him at the sensation. You moaned too, filled with pleasure. You felt so good.

A second finger inserts itself as easily as the first, gently sinking into your intimacy. He begins to move, drawing slow and deep back and forths. His gaze falls on his fingers, watching them disappear and reappear. The idea of ​​his dick following the same path obsesses him, making him even more feverish.

His thumb continues to stroke your clit, which begins to swell with pleasure. You squirm on his fingers, but your movement is abruptly halted when he slaps your clit, drawing a plaintive moan from you. Tears well up in your eyes, but he remains merciless. Ignoring your silent pleas, he pushes his fingers deeper, expertly curling them to reach your g-spot.

How delicious. Your eyes roll back, overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure that envelops you entirely. Your nails instinctively dig into his shoulders, searching for an anchor point. You want to come, even if it's way too soon, almost ridiculous when he's only slid two fingers inside you. Incoherent words escape your lips, betraying how weak this man makes you.

"With just two fingers you can't talk anymore. What a bitch you are. What do you want to tell me baby?", he smiled wickedly, he curled his fingers even more. You almost screamed but you bit your lip. "Come on.. use your words be a good girl. You don't want to disappoint me do you?"

"N-no, I don't want to... I-I'm gonna cum, it's- it's too soon..."

"Fuck with two fingers you want to cum already? Fucking slut."

He pulls out those wet fingers leaving you empty. He brings his hand to his cock and kisses you roughly. He rubs his cock between your wet folds and your clit. His precum drips onto the black hairs of your pussy.

"I don’t have a condom.. fuck.", he rests his head against your shoulder frustrated and excited.

"It's okay.. fuck me please. Fill me.", whisper in his ear.

"You're gonna be the death of me, shit... I'm starting to come in.", he breathes hard and starts to enter little by little in your hot little pussy, soaked, tight like a virgin. He holds himself back from cumming, you were better than in his dreams.

You moan from the intrusion. He’s so big, thick. How good it feels… the stretch makes you see stars. He finishes entering you and doesn’t move anymore, giving you time to adjust to his length. He places kisses on your shoulder then on your jaw.

You whisper to him that he can move. He doesn't hesitate and moves immediately. His hips press against yours. The wet sounds of his cock coated in your spit and drool and your soaking wet pussy.

His hand slides around your waist to hold you against him wanting the contact of your brown skin against it. You moan loudly and scream his name forgetting that you are at work. His hand places itself over your mouth to silence you.

"Shut up. Don't you want the whole building to hear how I fuck you like the slut you are?", you wanted to say that you wanted it but you're not that crazy.

He smiles and makes his movements faster and deeper inside you. He searches for your g-spot wanting to make you twist with pleasure for him. He whispers dirty words in your ear that make you wetter even more.

Minutes pass and he continues to fuck you moaning feeling your little pussy swallow him. Your spongy walls flutter around his big cock that destroys your senses. You can only moan and beg him for more. You become addicted to him.

"Na- nanami I'm go- going.. to cum..", he looks at you and slides his hand on your swollen clit, rubbing circles on it.

"Cum for me. Be a good girl for me.", you moan as if to say you agree. His movements become less rhythmic but deeper meaning that he is going to cum too. "Your pussy is made for me Y/n.", his dick was made for you, you could only agree.

A few hip thrusts later you cum at the same time. He empties himself inside you, filling your walls with his hot, viscous white seed. Your walls milk him wanting to keep every last drop inside you.

Your limbs tremble from the pleasure felt and become numb. You thought you saw the stars. You breathe hard, searching for air as best you could. He rests his head on your shoulder, exhausted but satisfied. Nanami hopes you liked it too.

He pulls out of you, his soft member soaked with your juices. His gaze falls on your satisfied expressions then on your black pussy whose sperm flows between your wet folds.

"I'll fuck you better and in bed baby I promise.", he kisses you promising himself to take you on a date like you deserve as the woman you are.

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

requests: OPEN.

© 2024 itelya. All work belongs to @itelya. Do NOT repost, modify, translate or plagiarize in any way on ANY platforms.

Im going to get a new phone soon omg im so exciteddd its like changing my life (I have an iPhone xr and I ordered the iphone 14)🤧🤧😩

synopsis: the difference in size between your hand and your bf/husband's hand.

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.

warning: cute, adorable, humor and love love loveeee

words: 2780.

Kento N.

The kitchen is silent, animated only by the rattle of utensils and the sweet scent of vanilla floating in the air. Nanami is focused, his large, precise hands kneading the dough with controlled fluidity.

For your part, you try to keep up with him, but one thing distracts you: the glaring difference between your hands.

You've always known this, of course. Nanami is a tall, firm man, and his hands reflect his. They're wide, with long, strong, and thick fingers. Only you know how effective they are in certain situations.

Besides, your hands seem almost fragile. You observe the contrast: his palm almost entirely covering yours, the difference in width between your fingers, the way your wedding band looks delicate where his feels massive on his hand.

Suddenly, he notices your gaze fixed on your hands and raises an eyebrow. "What is it?" he asks calmly. His gaze is soft on you. You shake your head, an amused smile playing on your lips. "Nothing, it's just... I feel like I have doll hands compared to yours."

Nanami looks down at your clasped hands on the counter. He studies them for a moment, then gently places his palm against yours. As expected, his own almost entirely encompasses it. He lightly presses his fingers against yours, curiously testing the difference.

"It's true, it's quite striking," he admits. He gently turns your hand, examining a precious object. "They're small... but agile."

You smile, rolling your eyes. "You make me feel tiny." He runs his thumb over your ring, an unconscious gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers, though larger and rougher, are surprisingly soft as they brush against your skin.

"Maybe I like the difference," he says finally. "It reminds me to always look out for you."

You sigh, crossing your arms. "You know, I'm not as fragile as you think."

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand and places it against his once more. He gently intertwines your fingers, the size difference even more pronounced.

"I never said you were fragile," he murmurs. "I just like knowing my hand is there to wrap around yours."

He finally lets go of your hand to return to the dough, but the contact remains imprinted on your skin. Even without his fingers wrapped around yours, the sensation remains.

You look at your hands side by side again, fascinated by the difference. And even though Nanami doesn't say it directly, you understand that for him, this difference is not insignificant.

Gojo S.

You sit next to Gojo on the couch, a little tired after a busy day, your legs tucked under you, trying to find a comfortable position. But before you can truly relax, you feel a gentle but firm pressure on your hand.

Surprised, you turn your head to see Gojo looking at you with a playful smile. He just had his hand extended, taking yours. "Hey! Let go of my hand."

He looks at you with a mockingly innocent expression, but you immediately notice the amusement in his sky-blue eyes. "Are you serious? Your hands are so small, I could lose them in mine. It's cute."

You frown, a little embarrassed by the remark, but he continues to look at you with a mischievous smile. You try to pull your hand away, but he keeps it firmly intertwined in his. "Gojo, seriously?..."

He leans slightly towards you, bringing your hands together to show you the difference. Your hand seems to almost disappear into his, and you find yourself, once again, facing this obvious reality.

"See? It's crazy how tiny your fingers are next to mine. It almost makes me feel sorry for you, babe."

You gently push him away, a little exasperated, but despite your attitude, you feel a slight shiver run down your arm with each movement of his fingers.

"I'm not a kid, Gojo."

"I know, I know, I'm joking, babe... But you have to admit, it's cute. And besides, that means I can protect you, right? I can hide you behind me if you ever get scared."

He squeezes your hand a little tighter, not forcing you, but enough to make you feel the warmth of his palm. You look up at him, a hint of red on your cheeks, but this time, you don't push him away. He leans a little closer to you, his voice becoming softer.

"I like holding your hand... I really do. It feels good."

Your heart skips a beat at his words. He's speaking simply to you, and you sense the sincerity in his words.

"It's true... It feels good."

"Yeah? That's what I thought. So I'll hold your hand, okay? No running away this time."

You look up at him, almost surprised by the softness beneath his playful demeanor. He squeezes your hand a little tighter, and this time, you let him, feeling a little calmer and more protected by his side. "You're insufferable."

He bursts out laughing, but you can see in his eyes that he's never been more serious. He really enjoys this silent connection between you, this simple act of holding your hand. And, oddly enough, you enjoy it too.

"I know, I know... But admit it, you like having a big hand to hold you, don't you?"

You look at him silently for a few seconds, and before answering, you gently tighten your grip. "Yes... maybe."

Geto S.

The first time you really noticed the difference in size between your hand and Geto's was one day when you were walking quietly together. It was a bit chilly, and without even thinking, you slipped your hand into his.

Immediately, his long, warm fingers closed their grip on yours, and that's when it hit you: your hand felt tiny in his.

Geto has slender but strong hands. His fingers are long and elegant, and when he squeezes your hand, he does so with obvious tenderness, as if he were holding something precious.

“Hmm… your hand is really small,” he murmurs with an amused smile, comparing your palms.

He spreads his fingers, inviting you to do the same. You place your palm against his, and the difference is striking: his fingers extend well beyond yours, his hand almost seeming to encompass yours entirely.

“It's cute,” he adds, slowly intertwining your fingers and looking at you with a glow of infinite love.

You look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Do you think it's cute?” A slight blush appears on your cheeks, a little embarrassed.

“Of course,” he says with a small smile, tilting his head slightly. “It reminds me how cute I think you are.”

His tone is light, but there's an undeniable sincerity in his words. You feel the warmth emanating from his hand, the contrast between the imposing size of his and yours.

He looks down at your fingers trapped in his and gently squeezes your hand. “I like holding your hand like this,” he continues in a softer voice. “It makes me feel safe. You're always next to me.”

You smile a little before squeezing his hand a little tighter in return. “Me too.”

Geto looks at you for a moment before lifting your intertwined hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss on your fingers. He doesn't need to say more. Through this simple contact, he lets you know everything he feels for you.

And you let yourself be enveloped by this gentle warmth, appreciating the difference in size between your hands. You find it cute too, to be honest.

Toji F.

It's evening, and after a long week, you're comfortably settled on the couch with a bucket of tenders. The enticing aroma fills the room, and there's only one last piece left, sitting innocently in the center of the coffee table.

You glance furtively at Toji, who seems to have spotted it as well. A smirk forms on his lips, and you know this battle is going to be about more than just food.

"I think this chicken belongs to me," he says in a low, amused voice, his eyes challenging you from across the table.

You raise an eyebrow in amusement. "Oh, really? I thought I was the one who called the shots tonight. I did order, after all."

Toji bursts out laughing, a deep, seductive sound. He reaches for the piece of chicken. "You know, I think we're not on the same page when it comes to chicken."

Before you can even answer, you reach out as well, trying to grab the last piece of chicken at the same time as him. But, of course, Toji doesn't budge. He grabs your hand with a jerk, and you feel the difference in strength in his grip.

His hands are large, his fingers long and firm. His almost completely envelops yours, making your hand seem so small in comparison. His thumb rests on the top of your hand, restraining you slightly, but not aggressively. It's just... his natural power, the way he effortlessly dominates.

"Your hand is far too small to compete with mine," he says, grinning, his eyes shining with mischief.

You frown and try to pull at the piece of chicken. "You underestimate my determination, Toji."

But the more you pull, the more you feel the difference in size and strength between the two of you. He doesn't have to force you to hold on, and you're well aware that even if you really want that piece of chicken, you can't fight his grip.

"Okay, okay," you finally say, smiling. "You can have that last piece. But you won't get away with it so easily next time, T-O-J-I, and I don't have a small hand."

Toji laughs again, but instead of simply keeping the piece for himself, he holds it out to you, a softer smile on his face. "You're even cuter when you fight over chicken with your little baby hand."

He watches you for a moment, and you feel his gaze slide down to your hand still resting on his. "Shut up. You're annoying me, Toji." Your cheeks turn slightly red.

With a certain gentleness, he drops the piece onto your plate, without any sign of dominance this time. You're cute when you pout, especially over chicken, Toji thinks.

Toji flops onto the couch, a satisfied smile on his lips. “It was fun, but we both know I’m the fastest.”

You laugh, taking a bite of the chicken he’d 'left' for you. “Yes. I can confirm… even in bed, Toji.”

He stares at you intensely, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Say that again, princess?” You knew he’d make you regret it.

Sukuna R.

Sukuna's hands are imposing, inhuman in their size and power. When he takes your hand, it's as if the universe around you shrinks. His hand, much larger than yours, envelops yours with a quiet mastery, a natural dominance.

His skin is warm, and the texture of his fingers, rough, contrasts with the softness of yours. But it's not unpleasant. Rather, it's pleasant, a mixture of respect and adoration.

He is your king, and you, his queen.

You feel small next to him, but it's a feeling you've learned to appreciate. In his hand, you find a protection that requires no words. Sukuna doesn't need to tell you he'll protect you; he proves it every day with his gestures.

He squeezes your hand in a possessive yet tender way, as if he wants to mark you with his presence. Even his presence can be felt from afar. “Your hand… It’s so small compared to mine,” he murmurs, his deep voice echoing in the air. His eyes fix on you, a glint of amusement in yours.

“But I don’t need a hand that big,” you reply, looking him straight in the eye. “As long as you’re holding it.” A smile forms on your lips.

Sukuna lets a faint smile play on his lips, a loving smile that sends shivers down your spine.

“You are mine. Even though your hands are small, they are more powerful than any other. For they belong to me.”

He squeezes a little tighter, and you feel no pain, just an overwhelming presence. Your hand is completely engulfed in his. You’ve never been so sure of your love for him.

He is your king, but in his gestures, you see the man behind the crown. The one who cares for you, even with his sovereign nature. Others might fear his hand, but you see it as a symbol of his strength and love for you.

“Sukuna…” you whisper, your heart beating a little faster.

“I know,” he says with a teasing smile, his fingers tightening around yours once more. “I am your king, but also… I am your husband. I must fulfill my duties as your husband now.”

“Sukuna!”

Choso K.

Choso smiles at you tenderly as he takes your hand in his. His long, slender fingers gently envelop yours. He watches you with gentle eyes, as if making sure you're comfortable, and a small smile forms on his lips.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks softly, his voice low and reassuring. He frowns slightly, worried about any pain or discomfort you might feel.

You lift your head and meet his gaze. The size difference between your hands is striking, your hand seeming so small and fragile compared to his. But Choso never makes you feel inferior or vulnerable.

On the contrary, he squeezes your hand even more gently, as if to protect you, to show you that he's there for you, without ever making you feel his strength in a threatening way.

“I'm okay, baby,” you say with a reassuring smile, giving your hand a little squeeze in his. “You know I love it when you hold my hand.”

He blushes slightly at your words, and you see his gaze soften even more. It's moments like these when his adorably shy side resurfaces, even though he's usually pretty quiet and reserved.

“You really are the most important person to me,” he murmurs then, looking down. “I always want to protect you. Even if it's just for a moment like this.”

The warmth of his skin against yours is comforting, reminding you how much he cares, even in the simplest of moments. He takes a moment to gently stroke the back of your hand with his thumb, creating a pleasantly soft sensation.

“I love the way you look at me,” you whisper back, your heart beating a little faster. “It makes me feel… special.”

Choso looks up at you, a shy but genuine smile playing on his lips. He's truly adorable, even when he tries to hide the depth of his feelings.

"You are," he says, his voice filled with tenderness. "You're special to me."

There's no doubt in your mind: Choso is, without a doubt, the sweetest man you know.

masterlist

requests: OPEN.

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

study sheet. nerd bf! gojo satoru x fem! reader

You stand at your desk, staring at the study sheets Gojo just placed in front of you. Each sheet is colorful, neatly organized, and decorated with little hand-drawn hearts in the corner. Gojo smiles at you, his glasses falling down his nose.

“Here, you’ll really need these for your exam this week,” he says lightly.

You take the sheets, a little surprised. “Gojo, you didn’t need to do that… It’s so cute, but I’ll manage, don’t worry.”

He stares at you for a moment, his smile widening. “Are you kidding? I did this for you, not to make you think you could manage without me. We both know you need these sheets… and me.” He let out a small laugh, as if stating the obvious, and winked at you. Is he still the same shy nerd you fell in love with?

You looked at him, pleased but also embarrassed by all the attention. He had put so much care into those cards. It was so simple, and yet so... Gojo. You felt both touched and a little guilty for not helping him even though you didn't know he had done it for you.

"Thanks, nerd. But at this rate, I'm going to send you to the exam instead of me, you're a genius." You laughed lightly, appreciating his gesture.

He shrugged, a casual look on his face. "I don't think I'll pass. You're prettier than me for anyone to think it was you."

You smiled, then without thinking too much, leaned towards him. The kiss you give him is sweet, a little shy, but full of sincerity. Gojo seems surprised for a moment, but he returns the kiss with a tenderness he doesn't usually show.

"You're an idiot," you murmur, pulling back slightly, a tender twinkle in your eyes. "But you're also incredibly cute."

He bursts out laughing, a flash of pride in his eyes. "I know."

He knows everything anyway.

nerd gojo series - masterlist