Who Would’ve Guessed Our Colonel Is A Memelord

The fastest sexiest pizza in Tokyo

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays! Too bad that you seem to have lost your wallet and can't pay for your order. Or is it? Maybe finding alternative ways of payment isn't that bad when your delivery boy is such a snack himself!

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: smut, fluff Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex with a stranger, oral, cumshot, cumeating, hair pulling, vaginal penetration, eating pizza while fucking lol. This is just a stupid and cheesy smut fest that makes me want to order at Tiger Pizza every day! All characters are of age. This story is 18+, minors don't interact.

This is my contribution to the XXX hub collab. I picked the trope delivery boy, obviously! Thank you so much to @novaresque and @manjiken for hosting this amazing collab! I had so much fun with this!

You pull the door open and are greeted by pastel pink hair and a dazzling smile.

"Hey, thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

You blink several times, staring dazedly at the guy in front of you. Why is your pizza delivery boy so hot?

He must be new. You have never seen him before. You would definitely remember that cute smile and the golden eyes and cotton candy pink hair peeking out under his red Tiger Pizza baseball cap. Your gaze wanders downwards. And those biceps! You would definitely remember those too!

Damn, Tiger Pizza doesn't just make yummy pizza. They also send yummy delivery boys nowadays!

You give him a warm smile,

"Wow, thank you for the fast delivery! Let me grab my wallet!"

And suddenly, the horror crashes over you. Oh shit! The small bowl on top of your shoe cupboard where you usually put your wallet is empty!

"Would you mind waiting a moment? Or, just come in, I guess! I have to search for my wallet real quick, sorry."

"Sure, no problem. Where is your kitchen? I'll just put the food there."

You lead Tiger Pizza boy to your kitchen, looking for your wallet on the way where. But to your dismay, it is nowhere to be found. Not in your bag, not on the couch table, not on the kitchen counter.

"Um...this is embarrassing, but I don't have any money."

Hot delivery boy's bright smile falters a little bit, and he raises his eyebrows.

"Huh?"

You begin to sweat.

"I'm so sorry! I must have lost my wallet. What..what do we do now?"

Tiger Pizza boy stops smiling and instead scratches his cute pink hair.

"Well, I can't go back without the money, or the books won't add up."

His honey eyes look at you with the biggest puppy dog look you have ever seen on a human being. Gosh, is he pouting? He looks so fucking cute!

He puts the pizza and salad box down on your kitchen table and shoves his large tan hands into the pockets of his sweatpants, rummaging around until he pulls a few banknotes out triumphantly. The smile is back on his face.

"Ok, looks like I can pay for your order!"

Now you feel even worse. As a pizza delivery boy, he definitely doesn't earn a lot. He's probably a poor college student who's struggling with rent and stuff, and now he has to pay for your mistake!

"No! I don't want you to waste your money on me! You know what, I'll come over to your restaurant tomorrow and bring you the money!"

"No, forget it. It's ok, really. It's on the house!"

You shake your head

"No! I feel so bad! I will definitely give you the money!"

You reach out instinctively, wanting to offer reassurance and rub his arm. Your hand lands on his biceps. Fuck, it really feels just as amazing as you imagined it would.

You should probably pull your hand away again, but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're standing right in front of hot delivery boy now, and up close, he's even sexier.

Taller than you with broad shoulders and an athletic build. Tan skin, a cute smile, pretty honey-colored eyes. He has several scars on his face, but they don't mar his prettiness at all. Instead, they make him look even more handsome somehow, a bit rougher than the sweet smile and boyish attitude let on.

Your hand is still clutching his biceps, so you feel the firm muscles flex, and it feels so delicious. A wave of desire washes over you.

You must be crazy. Maybe it's the fact that you're blood sugar is low at the moment, or maybe the delivery boy is just too sexy for his own good. Regardless of what it is, you suddenly catch yourself blurting out:

"Or is there another way to pay you?"

The way you cock your head and look up at him through your lashes with a sultry look leaves no way for speculation about what you mean. And just to make sure, you also run your finger over his biceps in a seductive way, tracing his muscles gently.

Understanding flickers over his handsome face, and he grins and nods excitedly.

"Oh! That's really sweet of you. Yeah, you can do that..."

He leans against the kitchen table, putting his fit body on display, biceps flexing so deliciously, his defined pecs and abs visible under the tight shirt he's wearing. You never salivated that much about a guy you just met. Even his voice turns you on, smooth and sweet like honey:

"So, how do we go about this? What did you have in mind, sweetie?"

He pulls the baseball cap off his head, revealing even more pastel pink hair. It's ruffled from the cap, looking so soft and pretty that you can't help but lean closer to him and run a hand through the fine pink strands.

It brings you so close to sexy Tiger Pizza boy that he can easily wrap his strong arms around you. And God, those arms feel good!

He pulls you against him, and you yelp softly as you stumble into him. Your hands instinctively come up to brace yourself against his pecs. This must be some dream! Because somehow, this whole situation seems like straight out of some porn.

You have never felt toned pecs like those beneath your fingers. You can't resist the temptation and grab them, digging your nails gently into the taut buff flesh. Hot delivery boy makes a cute sound in return.

You find your voice again too and lift your head to grin at him,

"How about I do things for you that make you happy, and you tell me when I've paid off my debt."

"You're really smart! Sounds like we have a deal. It's nice of you that you want to make me feel good, cutie. I'm such a lucky guy!"

His voice is husky, one large hand cupping your chin and thumb tracing your bottom lip slowly.

Your heart is fluttering wildly in your chest, and your pussy throbs with hot needy arousal. You've never done this before: Just have sex with a random guy out of the blue. But it's so hot, and you want him so bad!

"What would make you happy enough to pay for the salad?"

You ask before closing your lips around his thumb and slowly sucking on it while you look up into his pretty golden eyes.

"Ah fuck... hmm, do that again, but not with my thumb but with my dick."

His words make you moan in excitement. You're really gonna do this! You're gonna suck off this sexy stranger and maybe get laid by him!

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth and take a step back. Hot delivery boy uses that chance to swiftly pull his shirt off and let it fall on the floor, smiling at you in that attractive boyish way that is far too cute and sexy at the same time.

What do these Tiger Pizza people think sending someone like this to deliver their food? It should be illegal!

You let your hungry gaze travel over him. He's a sight for sore eyes. Tall and buff, tan skin looking so smooth and lickable, toned muscles everywhere, thick biceps, delicious titties with pretty nipples, and defined abs that are to die for.

Your gaze travels further down, over the mouth-watering v-line and to the bulge in his pants. His grey sweatpants are already tented in the front, doing nothing to hide how hung he is.

You get pulled out of your drooling by his laugh.

"You gonna undress me, cutie? Or do ya want me to help? Come here, I'll help you. Don't be shy, sweetie."

His big hands take yours and place them on the hem of his sweatpants. But that's all the help you need. You won't wait for a second longer to see more of this total snack in front of you. You hook your fingers in his pants and the boxers beneath and pull both down at the same time.

Your mouth falls open in a silent O. Oh fuck, he is impressive!

His fat cock slaps against his firm abs with a delicious thud. Sitting there against those fine taut abs, fully erect, thick, and long, with a pretty dark pink tip that is oozing pearly pre-cum, which sticks to his tan abs.

Maybe you were wrong. He isn't just a snack. This fine man is a full course meal!

You are on your knees before he can even reach out for you, so eager to get his gorgeous meat into your mouth.

His toned thighs feel so fucking nice under your hands, warm skin, and firm muscles, which tighten when you lean closer and blow air over the swollen dark pink mushroom head. His pretty cock twitches, begging you to suck it.

Sexy delivery boy makes another cute sound. A soft whine, breathless and needy.

"Ah! Fuck, yeah, baby, take it in your mouth and earn your salad. Will you do that for me, please?"

He doesn't have to tell you twice. Your mouth is already on him, engulfing his thick tip with your lips and looking up at him as you suck on him for the first time, tasting his heady and sweet pre-cum on your tongue.

His mouth opens in a low moan, and his strong hands tangle in your hair, grabbing it tightly. It's all the encouragement you need. You moan softly as you take him deeper into your mouth, watching him through your lashes as you bop your mouth on his gorgeous thick cock.

He fills your mouth so wholly. Such a big boy! Tiger Pizza really didn't lie when they advertised to have XXL portions now too. For the big hunger.

Oh yes, you are very hungry. Starved actually! For pizza and for this yummy delivery boy's gorgeous cock!

You can't help but hum and moan around him, so turned on by his cute moans and his strong hands tugging on your hair, getting so desperate for you. He's such a cute one!

You play with his swollen tip, taking your sweet time, kissing the pre-cum off it, licking it lightly, and teasing his slit with the tip of your tongue, asking him to give you more of his intoxicating taste.

And he does. His dick is so eager! Pre-cum keeps trickling out of his cockhead, so much that you can already tell he's a nut-a-lot-boy. Not just good at delivering pizza but also good at delivering big loads of another kind.

"Ah... fuck...feels so good! That salad is already paid for!"

He looks so pretty with his flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open dumbly, his honey eyes boring into yours with such a needy look in them that it makes your pussy throb with want.

You absolutely need this sexy delivery boy in you! You really hope he won't leave after the blow job!

His hands tighten in your hair, and he pulls on it. He pulls your head down onto his cock, rolling his hips and fucking your mouth with deep needy thrusts, catching you by surprise. But damn, you aren't complaining!

His moans turn into breathless whimpers and little mewls, and if that isn't the sweetest and hottest thing you ever heard, you don't know what is!

You can tell he's about to bust by the way his muscular thighs are shaking beneath your hands. You moan around his fat cock, eagerly awaiting his big load. But sexy delivery boy has another plan.

"I wanna nut over your pretty face! Let me cum on your face, and you'll earn the salad dressing too! Please!"

You can just make some unintelligible sound in the back of your throat, but he's already pulling out, and you groan at the loss of his thick cock inside your mouth. But only for a moment because the sight in front of you is too good to stay upset.

Tiger Pizza boy wraps a strong tan hand around his gorgeous cock and pumps it with firm, fast strokes as his moans become louder and more high-pitched, and then he yanks on your hair and pulls your face right in front of that pretty cock.

A moment later, thick warm cum hits your face in several spurts. Belatedly you open your mouth to at least get some of it on your tongue. A moan escapes your mouth as you swallow his thick milky cum and lick your lips to scoop up more of the sticky mess he made on your face.

Sexy delivery boy sighs, and another sweet smile spreads over his face as he looks down at you.

"Fuck, you look pretty. And so messy... let me help you with that."

He pulls you up and licks your face clean, hungrily lapping up his own cum. Your brain isn't functioning anymore. The only thing your mind can come up with is a silent chant of, "Thank you, Tiger Pizza! Thank you for sending me the delivery boy straight out of my dirty fantasies!"

Your dream Tiger Pizza boy is finished collecting all his cum on his tongue, and now his large hand cups your chin, and then he kisses you.

You moan in surprise and desire, obediently opening your mouth as his tongue pushes against it. He licks into your mouth eagerly, feeding his cum to you. And you take all of it happily, moaning as you lick it all off his velvety tongue.

"Hmm, you like that? I'll tell you a secret: This tastes way better than any of the salad dressings we have on our menu."

You can't help but chuckle even as you chase after his lips and tongue, stealing another heated kiss from him. How can he make you so wet and horny while also making you laugh in genuine amusement? This boy is dangerous!

The short stolen kisses turn into an entire makeout session, with his strong arms wrapped around you and his sweet tongue fucking your mouth just like his cock fucked it only a few minutes ago.

You can already feel him growing hard again where his big cock is trapped between your bodies. A relieved smile tugs at your lips. So you will probably get lucky and get more of your sexy Tiger Pizza boy, hm?

As if he was reading your thoughts, his lips wander from your mouth to your neck. Finally, you hear his hoarse voice whisper:

"Ok, you earned the salad and the dressing now. Let's fuck on the table, and you'll earn the rest of the meal."

And with that being said, hot delivery boy kicks off his sweatpants and boxers, which were pooling around his ankles, and hoists himself up on the kitchen table. He almost knocks the pizza and salad boxes down but catches them with a laugh and pushes them to the side so he can lay down.

He looks so gorgeous, laid out there for you, bracing himself on his elbows, making his biceps and abs flex so beautifully. And that cheeky grin on his handsome face is driving you crazy too!

"Did you ever ride a tiger before?"

He's so stupid but so sexy! Your legs are shaking as you get undressed. It's embarrassing how wet you are for the sexy tiger on your kitchen table.

You climb on top of him, straddling his lap, gasping when his strong hands land on your thighs and caress them gently. He has a tattoo, you realize. Two thin black lines circle his right thumb, and it somehow makes your pussy throb even more for him.

Your hands land on his toned pecs again. Fuck! His body is so yummy-looking and feels so good beneath your touch. You're beginning to suspect that sexy delivery boy is the best food Tiger Pizza has to offer.

"Gonna earn my pizza now, tiger-boy."

"Yeah, you better hurry up before it gets cold."

You wrap a hand around his thick base, pumping his cock a few times, making him gasp softly. He is sweet, helping you onto his thick cock. Strong hands grab your hips and lift you onto him.

His strength makes you moan needily as he guides you on his thick tip. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him stretch you open. God, he's such a big boy. It's so fucking good!

You can't help but gasp as you sink down on him, taking all of him into your creamy pussy. He fills you up so completely, stretching you open in the most pleasurable way.

And when you slowly lift your hips and then let yourself fall down again, it gets even better. His cock is so perfect inside you. It doesn't take any convincing for you to ride him eagerly, bouncing on his thick hard length, always guided by his large warm hands, which are exploring your body, wandering from your thighs to your ass, and kneading it firmly between his strong fingers.

You can't believe a simple order at your usual pizza place led to this: You having a sexy delivery boy between your thighs, riding him on the kitchen table in between the pizza and salad boxes he delivered. You don't want this to end.

"I earned the pizza already, right?"

Your sexy Tiger Pizza boy nods as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded honey eyes,

"You earned half of it. You can take a slice if you like."

You stop bouncing on his thick cock and lean over him to open the pizza box that's lying next to his head. The movement causes your tits to press against his face.

And hot delivery boy moans and turns his face into your tits, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses on them, tongue flicking over your nipples hungrily. Your pussy is throbbing around his thick tip anytime his lips close around your nipples to suck on them. He's such a good boy, so sweet and loving!

Your hand closes around a slice of pizza, and you sit up again, gasping when your pussy slides down delivery boy's beautiful cock again.

That's gonna be a first, too: eating pizza while you have a cock inside you. His swollen tip is rubbing against your sweet spot, sending shocks of pleasure through you.

You take a bite of your pizza and chew it while slowly rocking on delivery boy's cock, rolling your eyes in pleasure,

"Mmhh, the pizza is so good! Almost as good as your cock feels, baby."

That earns you a mix between a chuckle and a moan from the sexy boy beneath you.

"Yeah? Give me a bite, too, please? I need strength so you can keep on playing with my dick since you like it so much."

You laugh softly. It's a breathless needy sound because he really feels so perfect in you and his words drive you crazy.

But you hold the pizza to his pink lips and feed him some of it as his hands tighten around your waist, and he starts to bounce you on his gorgeous cock again.

A needy sounding cry escapes your lips, followed by a row of moans and horny babbling:

"Ah! Oh... oh... fuck...Tiger Pizza is definitely my favorite!"

The pizza is forgotten, though, for the moment as your eyes close and your head lolls back as you let strong Tiger Pizza boy lift you up and down on his thick cock.

Loud moans fall from your mouth, and your fingernails dig sharply into his toned pecs as his tip is hammering against your sweet spot repeatedly, sending sparks of pure bliss through you.

You do your best to earn the other half of your pizza and ride him eagerly, clenching around his deliciously fat cock, reveling in the cute whines coming from sexy delivery boy.

Without warning, he lifts you up, pulling you off his cock with a desperate-sounding moan.

And then he presses his hard length snug against your slick pussy, and cums so prettily. Shooting his big load messily between you, over his abs and pecs. And over you too, over your stomach and most of it over your pussy. You moan loudly when it hits your clit, thick and hot.

He makes the cutest noises, high-pitched cries, and loud mewls and moans. He is so fucking gorgeous, so unashamed and sexy. His pretty face looks angelic when he bucks his hips and rubs his thick cock against you, riding out his orgasm. And fuck, he looks so good covered in his own cum!

You whine needily, struggling against his firm hold, craving more. Needing release too. Hot delivery boy opens his pretty eyes, and they meet yours, looking golden and wearing the cutest fucked out daze. A smile grazes his lips, and then he positively beams at you.

"Fuck! That was so good! Gotta take care of you too now, baby. Come here!"

He pulls you on his face, maneuvering your body so easily. And then his warm mouth hums against your wet needy pussy, and you can only gasp. He looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes, and you see them rolling back as if he's tasting his favorite treat in the whole world.

"Mmmh, some sweet dessert for me."

Your legs tremble heavily as his sweet tongue fucks into you, going so deep. And those soft lips find your clit, shower it with so many kisses before sucking on it gently.

God, he knows what he's doing. Pizza delivery boy is a fucking pro at this!

What he's doing to you feels almost too good. You are a quivering needy mess for him, trembling and moaning and gasping loudly. Your knees go so weak, but his strong hands hold you safely in place.

Those hands also prevent you from pulling away when the sensation of his sweet mouth becomes so intense that you almost can't take it anymore. He keeps you in place, pulls you back down on his mouth, and continues to make love to your pussy.

He holds you there until he licks and kisses a world-shattering orgasm out of you. One of those screaming-and-jerking-uncontrollably-orgasms, as your cream gushes over his pretty-boy face.

Your favorite delivery boy smiles up at you, looking so pleased as you slowly come down from the high he blessed you with. He's a real sweetheart and licks you clean, making your hips jerk lightly when his soft tongue glides over your overstimulated clit.

He helps you stand up afterwards and makes sure that your wobbly legs carry you before he cups your cheek and pulls you closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips.

"It's safe to say that you paid off your debt. Even gave me a generous tip, I would say. Tiger Pizza says thank you. And so do I."

You both laugh softly. You grab a kitchen towel and throw it at sexy delivery boy so he can clean himself up while you pick up your clothes from the kitchen floor and get dressed again.

You turn around in time to see him shrug into his shirt. To your surprise, there are more tattoos on his back. More black lines and a majestic-looking tiger in the middle.

You raise an eyebrow. Either someone is overly affiliated with his corporation, or he really loves tigers. For a moment, you wonder how a poor student can afford all those tattoos, and your next thought is, "Is he a Yakuza member?" But the idea is so ridiculous that you almost laugh out loud.

You accompany him to the door, and finally, it occurs to you to ask:

"Hey, what's your name?"

"Just ask for Yuuji next time you order something."

He grins at you and does a mock salute, winking cheekily,

"Thank you for ordering at Tiger Pizza! The fastest pizza in Tokyo!"

But before he leaves, he leans down to press a kiss to your cheek and adds softly:

"I hope our service was to your satisfaction. Don't forget to leave a review!"

It's a week later when you dial the Tiger Pizza number again.

You place your order. The same pizza and salad as last week, and before the guy on the other end of the line can hang up, you quickly add:

"Can Yuuji deliver that, maybe?"

There's a long stretch of silence at the other end of the line. And then comes a:

"What?"

"Um, Yuuji.. pink hair? Pretty buff?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I know who you mean. But he doesn't do deliveries usually. Wait a moment..."

"Hey Boss, someone is asking for you to deliver an order. What do I say?"

Your eyes widen almost impossibly. Boss?? That little shit!!

You hear some muffled noises, and then a familiar cute voice reaches your ear:

"Hey, so you want pizza again?"

"What the fuck, Yuuji? You never said you own Tiger Pizza! I thought you were a poor student who needed the money and would get into trouble if he came back with empty hands! I was feeling so bad about you having to pay for me!"

"Oh that... yeah, well, I told you the order is on the house, but you didn't want to listen! I never said I am just the delivery boy, did I?"

He really didn't, you realize. And suddenly, loud laughter errupts out of your mouth, and on the other end of the line, Yuuji is laughing too.

He sounds so amused when he says:

"You really have no idea who I am, do you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, I love that! How about I'll come over and deliver your order, and then I'll tell you more."

His voice drops to a low whisper, and he adds:

"Be naked when I get there, and you'll get a dessert on the house."

Thank you so much for reading! I loved this prompt! I was laughing and yearning at the same time while writing this! I hope you enjoyed it too! Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments make me happy!

Credit for the scene where reader feeds pizza to Yuuji while she rides him goes to @shameless-stan Thank you so much for giving me that amazingly sexy idea!!

The people who read my Yakuza!Sukuna AU might have noticed an easter egg. Yes, the Yuuji in this fic is actually "The young Tiger," Sukuna's younger brother from the Yakuza AU lol. Tiger Pizza serves as a money-laundering place. Yuuji just happened to be there when one of the delivery boys called in sick, so Yuuji decided to deliver an order himself. His bodyguard Megumi had a meltdown when he returned from the bathroom, and Yuuji was gone. He kept calling him and wondering why a simple delivery takes that long. Clearly, the slogan "Tiger Pizza, the fastest pizza in Tokyo" is a lie!! And reader has no idea that she fucked the Yakuza Prince. But I think Yuuji is about to tell her :)

I need this man so bad

nerdjo in spiderverse 🕷️

❝𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝❞

Royalty AU || Crown Prince Megumi x Reader

"Either way, you weren’t supposed to catch the eye of the Crown Prince. But you did — not because you tried to impress him, but because you didn’t."

wc: 2.1k warnings: none :)

part 2

The capital was alive tonight.

Festival banners flapped from balcony rails and rooftop chimneys, catching on the breeze like ribbons loosed from a dancer’s hair. Lanterns painted the cobblestone roads in soft orange, fluttering shadows of people moving together, laughter spilling into the humid air. Merchants sang out their prices with theatrical flair, children darted through alleys with sweet-stained mouths, and musicians strummed wild, joyful notes like the world might end tomorrow.

You were halfway through a skewer of grilled eel when the drums began to roll.

“Must be the opening ceremony,” someone murmured beside you, eyes turned toward the main pavilion at the center of the square. You followed their gaze only briefly, already familiar with the routine — the arrival of the royal family, the crown prince's cold, obligatory speech, the nobles parading their newest silks.

You wiped your hand on your sleeve and turned away before the first horn blew.

It wasn’t that you disliked the royal family. You just didn’t care for the spectacle — for the desperation in the way people craned their necks, trying to catch a glimpse of the gilded puppets who ruled the realm from their marble towers.

You weren’t here for the crown.

You were here for the chaos. The color. The sense that, for one night a year, everything felt real.

Which was why you didn’t notice him at first.

You were leaning against a stone wall, drink in hand, watching a group of fire dancers carve patterns into the night sky. The scent of charred cinnamon and plum wine hung in the air, dizzying. Around you, the crowd stirred and shifted. Whispers rippled out from the direction of the royal carriage — excitement, reverence, awe.

And then the hush.

The kind that falls when something sacred enters a room.

You didn’t bow. You didn’t crane your neck like the rest. You simply turned your head and looked.

And that’s when it happened.

Your eyes met his.

Crown Prince Megumi Fushiguro stood a few meters away, half-shadowed by the guards at his side and the height of the ceremonial platform. He was dressed in deep navy and obsidian black, a sharp contrast to the lanternlight glow that softened everyone else. His hair was pulled back, silver threading the edge of his collar, and a ceremonial sword rested at his hip.

He looked like something carved from dusk.

He was already scanning the crowd — out of duty, you guessed. The kind of passive observation someone in power did automatically. But when his gaze passed over you, it stopped.

Not paused.

Stopped.

And held.

You blinked, surprised. Not by the fact that he was looking — but by the way it felt.

Not hungry. Not judgmental. Just… curious. As if he were trying to figure out what exactly it was about you that didn’t match the room.

Your heart knocked once, uncertain.

You didn’t bow. You didn’t look away. You simply raised one brow in return — a small, almost amused expression. Not mocking. Just present. Undaunted.

You weren’t supposed to catch the eye of the Crown Prince. You weren’t a noble. You weren’t dressed in silk or painted in powdered makeup. You weren’t fawning or smiling or trying to be noticed.

But you had his attention.

And you knew better than to show it affected you.

So you turned away first.

You didn’t expect anything to come of it.

The festival carried on. The dancers performed. You wandered through back alleys and vendor stalls, slipping through the thick of the crowd without ceremony or fanfare.

But hours later — long after the sky turned navy and the music dulled — you returned home and found something odd.

Tucked just inside your windowsill was a piece of folded parchment, weighted down by a small violet.

You stared at it for a long moment.

You hadn’t left the window open. No one had access to your home. You lived in the upper floor of a bookshop, above the creaking floors and scent of aged paper, and the only one who knew your habits was the shopkeeper’s cat.

You unfolded the paper slowly.

Neat handwriting. Sharp strokes. Precise lettering.

"You didn’t say much, you didn’t need to. That’s what I liked about you."

No name. No title. Just that.

And the flower.

Your throat tightened. You didn’t want to believe it — but deep down, you already knew. You remembered that stare. The weight of it. The way his eyes had followed you not like a predator, but like a question.

You turned the note over.

Blank.

You reread it once. Twice.

Then you tucked it away in a drawer and told yourself it meant nothing.

But of course, the world wasn’t kind enough to let it go.

Because three days later, you saw him again.

You were crossing the narrow bridge near the west gardens, a shortcut to the shop. The early morning mist still clung to the stone, curling around your boots like smoke.

You didn’t expect to see anyone there.

So when the figure appeared from the other side, you froze.

He wasn’t dressed like a prince this time.

No crown. No royal colors. Just simple dark fabric, travel-worn boots, and gloves tucked into his belt. But you knew. The way he walked — steady, upright. The way he carried himself like someone who bore weight on his shoulders no one else could see.

Megumi Fushiguro.

You stopped at the center of the bridge.

So did he.

A silence stretched between you.

Then.

“You didn’t bow,” he said.

It wasn’t a reprimand. Just an observation.

You lifted a brow, mirroring the expression he’d given you days earlier. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

His mouth twitched. The smallest shadow of amusement.

“I wasn’t expecting you to remember me,” you added, tone light.

“I wasn’t expecting to notice you,” he replied evenly. “But I did.”

The air between you stilled.

You swallowed. “Is that why I found a flower on my windowsill?”

“I don’t leave flowers for just anyone.”

There was something quiet in his voice. Not flirtation — no, he didn’t seem the type for that. It was something else. Something real. Unadorned.

You stepped closer, just slightly, until only a few feet separated you. The mist curled higher.

“Why?” you asked.

“Why the flower?”

“No. Why me?”

He didn’t answer right away. His gaze dipped, just once, to your hands — ink-stained from morning deliveries, fingers curled loosely against the chill.

Then he looked up again.

“You didn’t try,” he said.

You frowned.

“You weren’t trying to be seen,” he clarified. “You didn’t perform. You didn’t pretend. You just... were. In a world full of people shouting to be noticed, you were quiet. And you meant it.”

Your heart stuttered.

No one had ever spoken to you like that before.

And certainly not him.

The Crown Prince.

You don’t know what possessed you to do it — boldness, madness, maybe the intoxication of being seen — but you smiled. Just faintly. The way a person smiles when they finally stop holding their breath.

“You shouldn't be out here alone,” you said softly.

“And you shouldn’t talk to me like we’re equals.”

“Are we not?”

That earned you the smallest crack in his composure — a breath of a laugh, hushed and tired and real.

“Careful,” he murmured. “People lose their heads for less.”

“I’ve already lost mine,” you said. “Might as well use what’s left of it to say something honest.”

His eyes lingered on you.

Like he was memorizing something he shouldn’t want to keep.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he took one step back.

“This bridge doesn’t exist tomorrow,” he said, voice lower now. “Not officially.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. “But if it did, I might be passing it again. Just before dawn.”

You didn’t speak.

But when he walked past you, his sleeve brushed yours.

And it was the softest thing you’d ever felt.

(slightly nsfw!)

nerd!jo who goes to the same uni as you and ever since he caught onto you, you’ve been on his mind. leaving him utterly captivated since your first semester, when he saw you on campus

nerd!jo who quickly realises you’re the kind of person who’s known around the facility. you belong to countless of clubs, take parts in multiple projects and you’re always surrounded by your friends. you’re popular. the complete opposite of him as he prefers to keep to himself and stay quiet

nerd!jo who later finds out you’re sharing a class with his best friend geto and who’s instantly met with a wave of mixed feelings. he keeps his little crush on you a secret. even from his best friend

nerd!jo who stumbles upon you talking to geto in the hallway and who’s pulled into the conversation by his friend, offered as a helping hand for your project’s calculations

nerd!jo who does indeed agree to help, however, he doesn’t know how to act so close to you. which paints him out to be pretty nonchalant

nerd!jo who starts to wear a certain colour more often after you compliment his sweater, telling him it makes his eyes stand out

nerd!jo who warms up to you over the time due to him helping you with the project and you popping by to greet him and his best friend, chatting them both up

nerd!jo who is soon falling head over heels for you. without even realising

nerd!jo who’s confused when you join his calculus class next semester, because he remembers you saying it wasn’t something you were keen to. and who’s shocked even further, when you claim the seat next to him

nerd!jo whose blood runs cold, when some other dude walks up to you after your shared calculus class and interrupts you two talking. only to ask you if you wanna get out and grab a coffee. he stood frozen still as his heart roared in his chest, knowing it wouldn’t be right to interfere

nerd!jo who nearly lets out a sigh of relief when you reject the offer. and who’s irritation skyrockets the moment the guy won’t take no as an answer

nerd!jo who steps in automatically without thinking, telling him you and him have a thing going on later in the evening. your eyes narrowed in surprise. truthfully, he surprised himself too

nerd!jo who keeps pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose whenever he’s around you. the nervous gesture not going unnoticed by you

nerd!jo who grows sad, when you begin to tag along with him and geto, assuming it was his best friend you were after as it was usually that way. not him

nerd!jo who’s taken back when you pull out a box filled with baked goods and offer him to try some before a lesson. and he wondered if you had remembered his sweet tooth

nerd!jo who is so painfully oblivious to your shameless attempts at flirting, thinking you’re just being nice

nerd!jo who thinks about jerking off to your instagram picture he’s so fond of, but never ends up doing cause it’s laud. but he thinks about it, way more than he should

nerd!jo who gets flustered and awkward whenever his best friend mentions you or anything concerning you two together

nerd!jo who overhears you talking about your crush to your friends. a crush. his heart breaks

nerd!jo who notices the way your eyes linger on his lips as he speaks about the equation you asked him to explain, nonetheless, he tells himself it’s nothing and he’s probably seeing things

nerd!jo who then proceeds to go completely still when he registers the feeling of your lips on his mid sentence

nerd!jo who blinks to adjust his vision after you pull away few seconds later and then fixes his glasses. only to be the one who crashes his lips onto yours this time

nerd!jo who leaves the library with a raging boner after you spent the entire time desperately making out and being handsy with each other instead of studying

nerd!jo whose heart almost gives out, when you confess you had your sights on him from the beginning as well, but you were too shy to approach since he looked so intimidating

nerd!jo who ends up being your boyfriend by the end of the same day

nerd!jo who can’t help but feel a course of confidence seizing him as he walks through the campus with you, hands interlocked

a/n: couldn’t and can’t stop thinking about nerdjo so thought i would share couple of my ideas;)

credits for dividers: [ @cafekitsune ]

Kakashi as your Divorce Lawyer

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Modern AU Kakashi x F!Reader

Summery: Divorce lawyer Kakashi is astonished by the gorgeous driven woman who enters his office one day and slowly spirals till she's divorced and he can finally take his turn in claiming her

Warnings: NSFW but pretty tame for my page

Word Count. 3.6k

Author's Note: This is an old request from @decayedbong. Some parts of this are loosely based on my actual divorce. I'll let you guess which ones.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who was in his office one day when he heard a faint knock and a little “hmm hmm.” Ignoring you, he looks to the window of his office to see if his assistant is at her desk. With dejection at her absence, he shifts his gaze to you only to find his pupils dilating with hunger. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose gaze rakes over your figure standing tall in sleek business attire. Your shirt, a royal blue satin tee with sleeves just above the elbow and a cowl neckline. Your bottoms, a pair of black leather dress slacks, high-waisted with the shirt tucked in, fitted around your plump backside and tapered out from your thighs to your ankles. To complete the alluring look, your hair is gathered in a loose bun high on your head, and pointed black leather kitten heels adorn your feet, keeping you petite but elegant all the same.  

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who, after a moment of staring, realizes you’re blushing and looking off to the side, unaccustomed to the attention of a man as high status as himself. Quickly, he closes his mouth, which fell agape, and clears his throat, bringing your eyes back to him. After motioning for you to sit down in front of him, you gladly sit in the cushioned chair, nervous in spite of your powerhouse clothes.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who wonders how big of an idiot your husband must be to screw up a relationship with someone like you. Once you begin to explain your situation, his mind goes from wonder to anger. The idiot in question is an unemployed man-child who treats you with disrespect and makes you pay all the bills on top of all the household responsibilities. When you begin to cry, realizing how far gone the relationship’s gotten, you feel ashamed that you put yourself in your current situation. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who reaches across the desk and takes your hand. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. I see this every day; you just bet on the wrong horse is all.” Gulping back your tears, you nod your head. The remaining droplets that line your lower lash accentuate the depth of your eyes. Kakashi finds himself getting lost in them before he blinks back to reality and proclaims. “I’ll take the case.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, spends the rest of the day thinking about you. You’re sweet and small, but something about you seems big. Kakashi gets the sense that you are actually some corporate hotshot who has climbed the ladder and is only a few promotions away from her goals. He fantasizes about breaking you in, but deep down, he’s certain at home you trade your blazer for an apron and he wants that more than anything. His logic knows that behind closed doors you become the perfect meek little housewife of a man’s dreams, and though he wants it, after hearing your story today, he wants to show you what it’s like to be taken care of for a change.  

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who follows up with you a few days later, asking for an evaluation of your assets and ready to draft an initial copy of your divorce agreement. You hesitate to answer, embarrassed that you don’t have time for an office visit. Eventually, you gather the courage to tell him you won’t be able to because of work, but instead, he offers to meet you wherever you are.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who, upon his arrival in your office, seems to cause quite a stir. Many women gawk at him as he trails through the building, winding around till he finds your cubicle. You stand to greet him, shaking his hand and pulling out the spare chair in your surprisingly spacious section of the bull pen. Today, you’re wearing a low-cut wrap dress with stilettos and a blazer. You sport the same loose bun at the crown of your head, and your diamond earrings lay hidden amongst the face-framing strands of hair. 

After properly assessing you, Kakashi’s eyes glance around the cubicle, noting your Bachelor's degree and two empty frames next to it. “What are those for?” He asks.

“Oh, it’s a bit silly but those are for the degrees I’m working on now. I have the empty frames as motivation.” 

Kakashi lifts his brow. “Degrees? As in plural?”

“Yes, I’m double majoring right now. I want to move up, so I’m going to school while I work.”

“You mean on top of everything you told me the other day, you’re also going to school to complete two master’s degrees.”

Your polite nod wins over Kakashi’s heart. The humility in your admission, coupled with how normal you make it seem, are precious to him. He wants to defend you now more than before. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who shows you how to evaluate your assets and walks you through the alimony process. Though you have been supporting your spouse for five years, since being unemployed was his choice and not something your marriage necessitated, he did not have grounds to claim any continuing financial support. This is further solidified by the fact that the reason you lived in your current city was to move for a career opportunity for him, which he then quit after two days. A fact that dropped Kakashi's jaw.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who showed you how unwise your husbands attempts at your finances are and promises the defense will be easy.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who is interrupted every few minutes by staff members looking for your help. He’s quick to realize you’ve turned yourself into a valuable asset for your company, watching in awe as you show your peers and even upper-level managers how to find loopholes that aid customers and advocate for the firm’s clientele. From what he can see, you’re not just good at what you do, you’re great. Astonishing and beautiful, you’re husband truly has no clue what he messed up. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who has a hard time thinking about anything other than you. Determined to see you more, he makes up lame excuses to further consult with you in person, claiming he needs to see the house to get it valuated, asking to meet for coffee so you can sign various addendums that don’t even apply to your case, and doing ‘wellness checks’ to document emotional distress caused by the negligent behavior of your soon-to-be ex. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who is so sweet to you. He texts you each night to make sure you’re okay now that your ex has finally moved out. He makes himself busy, installing security cameras at your doors, dropping off take-out when he knows you have school projects, and over all being there for you. You tell him you don’t know how you’ll pay him back for all these billable hours, but he assures you not to worry about it. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grows protective of you leading up to the day of your court hearing. He comes to the courthouse with a coffee and a smile, reassuring you that today will go smoothly. You welcome both, feeling nervous. “Why did you dress down?” He inquires, noticing your simple khaki slacks with pointed flats and a cream body suit to match.

“I didn’t want him to think I dressed to impress him. I’m just here to get this over with. That’s all.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, looks at you with adoration. You are too precious to let down. He swears he’s going to give you what you deserve, in the courtroom and in the bedroom. You just don’t know it yet.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi,  who catches your worried face. As you enter the courtroom, you notice your husband hasn’t arrived yet. Your pupils dilate, wondering if he is going to show, and if not, does this mean he’s going to drag out the divorce process? Your mind reels but he’s probably just running late like he always is. 

Then, from the hall of the usually silent building, you hear loud yelling and recognize the shouts of your mother-in-law. You wince in embarrassment, knowing this isn’t the time and place for their constant crescendo. Based on the faces of the officers of the court, they find the acoustic entry to be distasteful, too. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who chuckles and leans in to whisper, “Did he really bring his mommy?” into your ear, forcing you to hide a giggle. As Kakashi straightens up, his mismatched eyes catch those of your husband’s. He assesses the man, searching for any redeeming quality that would justify your marriage to him. Scrutinizing over every detail, he gloats. He’s going to enjoy dismantling your ex’s arguments and afterwards, he’s going to enjoy claiming you as his own.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who argues on your behalf and wipes the floor with your now ex-husband. Everything that you earned stays with you and not a penny will fall into your ex’s hands. When the final agreement is signed, you hug your silver-haired superhero while he smirks in your ex’s direction. Your now ex-mother-in-law glares at the pair of you while you leave the room with Kakashi’s hand casually on your hip, protecting you from the dangerous look in her eyes. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who calls your name, giving you pause as you turn your head to gaze up at him, “Yes?”

“I’d like to take you out for dinner this evening.”

“Oh I can’t accept that, you’ve done so much for me already.”

“I insist.”

Realization strikes you, your lips parting as you ask the question, “Kakashi, are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

You stammer, amazed that someone like him would be interested in someone like you. “Are you sure you’re asking the right girl?”

Kakashi laughs and pulls you close, one arm encircling your waist, right outside the courtroom and in front of your now ex husband who’s watching the pair of you in horror. 

“Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.” he jests, bringing his face dangerously close to yours. 

“I most definitely am not.” you quip back.

“Well I don’t care. You’re perfect and I want to wine and dine you till you’re mine.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose eyes you gaze up into with pupils blown wide. You can fully feel the heat of your ex’s stare as you gather your wits to agree to be courted like a proper lady by the most gorgeous and successful man you’ve ever met. The ‘yes’ barely makes it past your lips before he’s kissing you with every drop of passion he’s been holding at bay these past two months. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who you gently pull away from, not wanting to provoke a scene in public. “Please Kakashi, let’s save the celebration for later.”

“I knew she was a whore.” your former mother in law yells. You already know how she told your neighbors all sorts of insane things, making them uncomfortable and causing them to ‘warn you’ about her, but you never really cared what she thought. You always had a poor relationship with your ex’s family anyway. What’s one more word of hate?

But this…this thing with Kakashi feels different. It feels meaningful and real. You don’t know where it’s going but you want to find out. If that makes you a whore, so be it. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who whisks you away and walks you to your car, instructing you on the dress code of the restaurant for the evening. He loves seeing you all dolled up so he intentionally is taking you to a place designed for people in a whole other tax bracket. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who impresses you with your dining arrangements. He provides you with meaningful conversation, lets you choose your own meal, and is polite to the wait staff. He checks all the boxes and then checks some more when his goofy side begins to shine. Subtle jokes and sarcasm lay hidden as he speaks. He talks about the kids he helps at the Boys and Girls Club and you feel your heart is set ablaze. You want him. Not just for a night but for a future. You were robbed of a marriage, a family, and a future by your ex-husband's childish behavior, but with Kakashi, he’s a man. A man who can provide you with a real marriage, a family, and a future.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who watches you poke your food as your mind reels. He reaches out to cover your hand with his, stopping your thoughts and bringing your attention to his soft features. “What is it?”

“I-” you look down and swallow, “I just got out of a serious relationship. Before I enter another one, I need to know, are you looking for a future with me or is this just for fun?”

“Can it be both? I hear serious relationships are very boring. I’d rather enjoy being around my future wife.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who you look at with stunned eyes. “You really feel that way?”

“Since the day I met you. I can’t believe how hard your ex fumbled you. If you will be mine, I’ll treat you like gold the rest of our lives." he proclaims. "Every day I see men mess up relationships. I watch as their tired and broken wives explain their life stories to me. I know what women want is someone who cares about the chores, the children, the mental load, and treats them with general kindness. Those are the things I want to do for you.” 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, has you speechless. You stare at him, expression adorably blank and reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights.

“So will you let me try to be those things for you?”

Slowly, you nod, accepting his offer. “Yes, I’ll let you try.”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who orders food for delivery and pays for the bill immediately. 

“What are you doing?”

“Not wasting a second. We can eat after.”

“After?! After what?”

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who drops $200 on the table, instructing the waiter to keep the change before he grabs you by the waist and escorts you out of the restaurant hurriedly. He guides you to a high-end car and moves to open the door but first pushes you up against it, kissing you like you are a popsicle that could melt away from him at any second. His teeth nip at your lips, biting them and pulling them, turning them red. Then he lunges back in, sweeping his tongue past your teeth and into your cavern, allowing it to dance with yours. 

His hands covetously grab each side of your face and pull you into him, pinning you in place between the car and his body. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grinds into you in the parking lot of the most expensive restaurant in town. He’s barely able to contain himself, debating hiking up your skirt and claiming you right here in public or giving you the dignity of taking you home first. He decides on the gentlemanly thing even though the dog in him is screaming in protest.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who whispers between kisses, asking permission to take you back to his place. “Of course.” you breathe, wondering why the question needed to be asked but happy that he cared. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grips your hand as he speeds home, occasionally guiding it over to his bulge, using your hand to palm himself. Your body tenses up every time you feel the hardness that lies beneath, still in awe that this is truly happening.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who pulls into his garage and jogs around to your side of the car, opening the door and pulling you up into his arms. He kisses you tenderly, meaning to guide you into his home, but your little moans drive him haywire with lust. “Can’t- control myself- around- you.” he grunts out between kisses while his hands wander around your silhouette. 

Your delicate voice rings out in agreement, letting your hands slip down to his pants to tug open the buttons. His hands slide to your behind, circling and massaging the tissue.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who goes feral at the sounds of your arousal. He bucks up into you as you tug down his slacks and let his hands glide to the bottom of your skirt, tugging up the hem to run his fingers along the seam of your drenched center.

“I knew you’d be wet f’me” his lust-drunk voice chimes, slipping your thong to the side and sinking a finger into your warmth. 

You immediately gasp, clenching around the singular digit while he works to wet your entire entrance, lubing you up for the aching appendage waiting to dive into your drooling hole. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, whose fingers jut in and out, making you squirm as your hand tugs along his length, anxious to have him the way he intends to have you. 

He kicks off his pants, leaving them behind when he grabs the backs of your thighs and wraps them around his waist, pinning his rod between your heat and his abdomen. Folds thirsting to have it penetrating rather than resting, you clench, pulsing against what you want most. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who groans into your mouth as he carries you inside the home, intending to take you upstairs, but the temptation is too strong, and instead, he lays you on the kitchen island. 

“Sorry baby, I can’t wait any longer.” He whispers into your hair before rubbing his shaft against your center and slipping in. 

You’re drenched, something you haven’t experienced in five years. But with Kakashi, he pulls out every drop of desire that’s been waiting to come alive since you made the decision to divorce.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who begins to thrust into you, shifting your body back and forth on the cool granite countertop. Every nerve ending is extra sensitive, fully aware of the pleasure rocking you both. Your breathing turns to pants quickly, your climax hitting you far too soon, but it’s been so long since you’ve done this, let alone enjoyed this, that the smallest amount of intimacy has you reeling.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who fucks you through your first of many orgasms that night, bending you in several new positions, and experimenting with you in the kitchen, on the couch, on the stairs and eventually in the bed. You find yourself a sweaty mess by the time he’s almost finished with you, but you keep going anyway, determined for this experience to never end.

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who sees your strength is waning, so he decides to play a little harder. He bends you back over onto your knees and aggressively pumps into you. Crying out in pleasure, he grabs your elbows, pulling back till your spine bows into a sinful arch, deepening his reach. You feel overwhelmed and exhausted, too tired to take any control. With another spasm around his solid member, he pushes your head down into the mattress and continues his bruising pace. Your insides twist in agonizing pleasure, and your hoarse voice husks out one last scream before his balls tighten with the front of his thighs clench. He flips you onto your back to empty his seed on your belly, grunting as he does. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who grabs a towel and wipes off your skin before heating up the shower so both of you can rinse off with masculine, sudsy body wash. He looks so brilliant with wet, rippling muscles, coated in bubbles. You fall into his chest, still trying to realize this is reality. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who quickly rinses off hearing a ring at the door and returns to the bathroom with a takeout bag filled with the food you should’ve eaten at the restaurant. You rinse yourself too and twist your hair into a clip, covering your body in one of his baggy shirts. Both of you pad to the kitchen, grabbing plates and forks to dine on some of the most delicious food you’ve ever tasted. 

Your divorce lawyer, Kakashi, who pledges to treat you this way every day as long as you’ll have him, waiting anxiously for you to finally grace him with his favorite three letter word…”yes”

Masterlist

Mental health status:

JJK Headcanon: Megumi cockblocks Toji/Megumi "Menace" Fushiguro/ Toji having beef with his 15 yr old son

Warning: Swearing, Female reader, Mentions of sexual activities but not explicit, ooc on Megumi’s part, Toji being Toji

Series: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Toji x Fem!Reader(romantic), Megumi x Mom!reader(parental/platonic)

Pronouns: She/Her(Reader is referred to as mom, mama, and mother by Toji and Megumi)

Word Count: 2.2K

(A/N: This is based on my one-shot I did and I wanted to expand on it because I just felt the need to. This headcanon went off the rails and is in different directions. Let me know if I missed any warnings!)

[Edited and Proofread! on 12/9/23 8:05pm. Forgive the strange format, Tumblr wouldn’t let me edit the post so I had to do it on the original doc and paste the edited version.]

Please enjoy!

So Megumi cock blocking Toji started out unintentionally and by accident. But as he got older, he did it more to annoy his dad and get on his nerves.

I will die on this hill but Megumi is a Mama's boy. Though it goes unsaid(by him at least), everyone knows it. Toji knows it, Gojo knows it, his classmates and friends know it, and everyone at Jujutsu High knows it. Hell, his own shadows know it.

Obviously you know it but you don’t want to embarrass your son. But it does fill you with love and contentment to know your son loves you dearly.

But that’s the problem, he LOVES you. Loves you more than Toji. Well, Megumi loves Toji as a dad and father. It’s just as he gets older, especially as a teenager, he often butts heads with Toji and gets fairly annoyed by his presence. All Toji has to do is breathe in Megumi’s direction and your son groans, rolls his eyes, and leaves.

When Megumi was younger, he was attached to you. You were always carrying him inside the house, when you were cooking, and even when folding the laundry. He didn’t like being far from you. All you had to do was be within 6 feet of your son or where he can see you and he will be fine.

So when Toji holds Megumi because you need to get or do something where you can’t bring your son, Megumi is all fussy and cranky. He doesn’t cry often but he is just all over Toji. Pulling at his hair, shirt, and cheek. Toji has been mostly successful with Megumi when putting him down for a nap, feeding or bathing him but sometimes it’s a struggle.

When you do it for Megumi, he is all cooperative and easy to handle. Toji clicks his tongue when he sees it happen and looks at Megumi as your son nuzzles into your shoulder. “I see how it is Megumi. All nice and easy for Mama but not for me.”

After successfully putting Megumi to bed, Toji gets frisky as wants some alone time with you. Since Megumi was born, your son has taken up most of your time. Leaving your poor husband with a lack of attention and affection. You want to make it up to him for lost time so you let him have his way with you.

However, just before Toji could go down on you and make you see stars, you hear Megumi’s crying. So out of instinct, you grab one of Toji’s shirts and make your way to comfort your son. Half the time, the mood gets instantly lost and Toji gets sexually frustrated. He was so close to boning you and your son just has to stop him from doing so. 

Toji gets blue balls so many times during Megumi’s youth, it’s a straight-up crime to him.

There are times when Toji doesn’t care if Megumi starts to cry in his bed. He read somewhere that babies just cry for no reason so at times let them cry it out. When he reads that, he’s not letting you out of his grasp when his son is crying in his crib. You feel the urge to comfort him but when Toji makes you wait a couple minutes and start to hear Megumi’s cries grow quieter, then they stop. That gives you two the green light to each other to yourselves.

75% Toji would have success with you but there was the other 25% he didn’t.

When Megumi was a toddler, he mostly would knock on your door in the dead of night either because he had a nightmare or wanted to sleep with you two. Luckily, this happens after your “nightly session” with Toji.

But Megumi would ask Toji to help him with stuff or pop up out of nowhere when wanted to have a piece of you. Toji hugging your front and cups your body while you cook? Megumi is by the kitchen table asking what are you making for dinner. Toji cages you against the wall as you put away the laundry? Megumi pops his head out of his room and asks Toji if he saw his dog plushie that was on his bed. 

But Megumi’s clinginess to you is genetic because Toji is the exact same to you. Way before Megumi was on the drawing board, Toji was either all over you or near you. No in between, it was one or the other.

You felt bad because it feels like your son and your husband are fighting for your attention. You know Megumi’s a child, who needs more guidance and help, but you know your husband has needs too. 

But as Megumi goes to school, it was easier for you two to have some alone time. Mostly easier for Toji to be inside of you.

But as Megumi gets the hang of summoning his shadows, it’s all over for Toji. This happens when he’s older as Megumi sometimes lets his dogs out and roam around the house. Like their user, the dogs and shadows love you too. One time, they saw Toji being too close to you and thought he was harassing you. So the dogs ran and pounced on Toji. One of them caught Toji’s wrists in their mouth and started pulling him away from you. Obviously, you called Megumi over to stop his dogs or to call them back. He does so but not without giving Toji a smirk, he definitely may or may not put his dogs up to it just to fuck around with his dad.

For the timely and observant boy he is, Megumi really is just popping in at the wrong times. He didn’t mean to do that to you, he’s well aware of how much you love Toji, both body and soul. He just doesn’t like how Toji isn’t quick and sleek with his intentions with you. Sure, it was Toji’s house and he can do whatever he wants in it. But Megumi also lives here too, so Toji should be more cautious and considerate of his son. Because everyone knows that they would rather bury themselves than see their parents try to give them another sibling.

Though Megumi now dorms at Jujutsu High because of missions, he does come home on weekends and breaks. But it varies from time to time, he would mostly tell you in advance when he would come home or visit. But he sometimes forgets and just drops by unannounced.  

Thus, that’s how scenarios like this occur. 

He will come home, sometimes knocking/ringing the doorbell but mostly lets himself in, then he walks inside, takes off his shoes, and goes to the living room. His heart slightly beats faster as he awaits the inevitable. It’s like a coin toss, 50/50 chance he’ll be safe or not. He relaxes when he doesn't stumble upon another eye bleaching but when he encounters the other 50%. He cringes inside so hard, he just blames Toji. Nah, he never blames you.

Yes, he’s well aware of men and women having… carnal desires… But you were never shameless about it in public or out in the open. He doesn’t know when it’s just Toji and you. But frankly, he DOES NOT WANT to know or find out. So he believes his father is just a dog in heat almost every time there is an OUNCE of spare time with you.

He either coughs, grunts or speaks to make his presence known. 99% of the time when this happens you are the one to push yourself away from Toji and try to make the situation less awkward for your son. It always ends up embarrassing you in the end.

Toji, in his head, lowkey wants to smack his son to another dimension. Way too salty in his mind.

‘Brat, let me have a moment with your mother, it’s not that hard.’ ‘IDGAF if you're my son, I’ll smack and give hands to my own son if you keep doing this.’

Like father like son, Megumi is doing the same thing in his head.

‘That’s a skill issue’ ‘This is an issue, not an iss-me’ ‘You fell off, what happened? Cause you’re too old?’ ‘Fucking cope, Old Man’.

Because of this, Toji literally has beef with his 15-year-old son. 

Should he be pressed about someone younger than him? No! Does he care? Also No. If this man can beef and fight Gojo Satoru and LIVE to see another day, he can have beef with anyone. 

Even if it’s his own son.

You should be a good parent and spouse and try to dissipate the fact your husband and son have an unspoken feud with each other. But you can’t help but watch everything unfold when they interact sometimes because it’s just funny and you get a kick out of it. 

Just to clarify, it’s never a shouting match or an actual argument. It’s more of petty insults, backhanded compliments, or brutal honesty minus the honesty. It’s like being a spectator at an event. You were watching for entertainment and you were getting your money’s worth. When you would come by Jujutsu High, you would talk about Megumi and Toji’s “interactions”. Saying something along the lines of “They don’t see eye to eye.”

One day, Toji and you decided to pay a visit to the campus because Principal Yagi needed to ask you about something in person. Since it was only you, Toji just wandered the halls and the school’s grounds, waiting for you to be done. As the odds were in his favor as he stumbled upon Megumi and his group doing some training. Toji just pops in and starts talking to Megumi. He acknowledged Yuuji and Nobara but he didn’t spare a glance at Gojo. In fact, he straight up looked at Gojo, gave a look of disgust, and continued talking to Megumi whilst ignoring him.

It didn’t take for some banter to rise between father and son, while no loud voices or malice was felt or seen. This was probably the few times Yuuji and Nobara had seen Megumi get heated, but this was the first time they saw Megumi beefing with his dad.

After a few minutes, Megumi summoned his shadows and Toji decided to change into his fighting stances. Yuuji thinks this is a bad idea but Gojo just smiles, saying that seeing them spar was a “learning experience”. Plus it would be good for Yuuji to watch Toji because Toji was a physical fighter considering his Heavenly Restriction. Though Yuuji has some curse energy, he must box it out with his opponents so he considered and the three watched the two fight it out. 

Megumi forgot his old man was an actual threat to the Jujutsu Society because Toji was straight up dodging Megumi’s shadows, their attacks, and even Megumi's own physical attacks. Though Toji wanted to have a little fun, he had to hold back so he wouldn't destroy/kill any of Megumi’s shadows. If he did, you would definitely find out and he would be a dead man for sure.

Anyway, it was so fast-paced that only Gojo was keeping up with the action. He was smiling but he had a shiver up his spine as he remembered that Megumi’s dad was the very reason for his enlightenment and Hollow Purple ability. It was obvious that Megumi wasn’t going to win but he wasn’t one to admit defeat. Then like a blur, Toji charged at Megumi from above and when he landed he created a decently large cater with Megumi at the center. Megumi’s shadows disappear since he is low on curse energy and is completely exhausted.

Both men were heaving and sweating like crazy. Yet out of nowhere, they suddenly hear your voice, LOUD and DESTRESS. You ran over to the two, eyes widening as the carter became bigger the closer you got. You see your son lying on the floor and help him up. You tried dusting off some of the dirt on him while looking concerned. You snapped your head towards Toji, whose smirk disappeared and then returned back again. You began to reprimand him for what he had done. Fighting his own son and damaging the training grounds, like wtf man.

You weren’t really raising your voice or yelling at him. But the firmness and seriousness in your tone about the small sparring session was enough to make someone straighten their posture and use very respective language towards you. There were moments where you tugged at Toji’s ear, pulled at his shirt so he was looking straight at you, or held his forearm tightly while you expressed your disappointment and concerns to him.

Ngl, Toji was a bit bricked up when you were all serious and angry at him. He didn’t mind sleeping on the couch if it meant he got to see this side of yours more often. 

Megumi reassures you that he is not physically hurt but his pride is wounded. You told him that if his dad pulled this again, to not engage with it and back off for his own safety. Megumi, because of his agitated mood, felt a bit offended that you didn’t believe your own son could hold his own. Let alone, go toe to toe with his own father.

“Mom, I don’t understand. Why don’t you trust me in fights even though I can handle myself.”

“Megumi, sweetheart, it’s not like that at all. I know you are a strong, smart, and capable person. You are my son, after all.”

“Then why don’t you want me to fight with dad?”

“Oh Megumi, honey. You have no idea the strength and capabilities of your father. You do realize, my dear, your dad was holding back a lot when he was sparring with you.”

Megumi looks shocked at his Pops, who winks at him, before turning his attention back to you.

“Wait, what? Just how strong is he, Mom?”

You didn’t give him a full answer.

All you said was, “Ask your teacher, Megumi.”

Megumi and his two classmates look at their teacher to see what you were talking about all the while Gojo was sweating bullets. That’s a story for another day, now you are dragging your husband home and telling your son to call you if anything changes.

So Toji and Megumi have eternal beef with each other. Though it’s more of annoyance and for shits and giggles really. Toji really does love his son and Megumi loves and respects his dad a lot.

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Thank you for reading and hope you have an amazing day with your favorite drink!

Not Just Anybody | baby daddy!sukuna x f!reader

summary: on the rare occasion that sukuna takes his nephew out to the park, he notices another kid with blush pink hair— a baby to be exact. he tries not to stare too much, but it’s hard not to, it’s a rare hair color. it’s not until the baby’s mother takes her out of the swing set and back into her stroller when he realizes why you ghosted him almost 2 years ago.

genre/warnings: hidden child trope, ex-fwb to co-parents to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

master list

part one | part two

Sukuna wasn’t very obsessed with the thought of having children, that desire (or lack of) continued to dwindle after his nephew turned 4 and is now all over the fucking place. He doesn’t mind watching him, but with each year it's becoming more difficult trying to get the kid to focus and listen to him. 

“Yuji.” The man barks out, beginning to scold the boy because he immediately starts running across the street the moment the crosswalk sign turned on for them. Didn’t matter if it was a private neighbourhood, he’d speed through the signs as much as anyone else. “I told you to hold my fucking hand– get over here.”

“Oops, sorry!” Yuji starts to skip back. It’s almost insulting how unworried he is when it comes to Sukuna and his temper, but he’s used to it by now. He reaches out to hold his uncle’s hand– even having the audacity to swing it back and forth. Sukuna just lets him because he ends up feeling bad whenever he yells at Yuji while he’s happy. 

He guesses the one thing that’s gotten easier when it comes to watching the little crackhead is that he can now finally take him to the park. He’s able to run all that unnecessary excess energy off, making mid-afternoon to dinner time easier because he just eats and naps until Jin comes to pick him up. 

Yuji’s especially excited today, they're going to a new park that’s just down the street from Sukuna’s new house. It was a nice neighbourhood too, Sukuna already knew the place was going to be like Disneyland for the kid. 

“Uncle! Look!” Yuji yells out. 

He’s been looking this entire fucking time, why are children like this? Yuji’s slightly better than most, immediately flipping under the monkey bars like a pro after receiving his Uncle’s nod of approval. 

“Good job, Yuj.” He says in return. Jin should really take him to a parkour gym one of these days… maybe get him checked for adhd too while he’s at it. 

He continues to watch the boy until he suddenly hears some baby’s laughter on the other side of the playground. It reminded him of when Yuji was a baby, always squealing over something, even if it was something as simple as ripping a piece of paper in half. It was cute. 

He tried to drown out the noise, but this kid was having the time of their life, so he eventually looked in the direction of where the laughter was coming from. He’s genuinely surprised when he sees a little baby girl with fluffy pink hair. It’s a rare hair color and outside of his family, he’s only seen less than a handful of people that naturally had it in his entire 27 years of life. 

She couldn’t be older than a year old. Her mother– or nanny, this neighborhood has a ton of them, is kneeling in front of her and gently pushing the swing back. Everytime she pushes the swing back, the laughter gets louder.

The lady eventually picks the baby up and smothers her with kisses… the same way you used to smother him with kisses, almost 2 years ago. 

And the moment you turn around and place her back in her stroller, it becomes very apparent as to why you completely ghosted him 1 year and 7 months ago. 

Yes he’s kept track, you were the best fuck of his life. He’s been chasing that high after you practically vanished off the face of the earth, you even changed your phone number. For all he knew, you were dead.

Sure, he complained about Yuji here and there, but it couldn’t be that bad to the point where you decide not to tell him anything and just raise a baby completely on your own.

Maybe you weren’t all on your own to begin with. That thought makes him continue to mentally spiral, he’s honestly ready to fuck everyone up at this point.

“You fucking bitch.” He murmurs to himself as you begin to walk off with the child that is without a fucking doubt his. He quickly grabs his phone and calls a close friend, one that’s a little too good at finding people's personal information. 

“Hey what’s u–”

He immediately cuts Uraume off and cuts straight to the chase. “I need you to find someone’s address for me.”

---

“How’s the party planning going?” Your mother asks, trying to keep the conversation going, in hopes of her granddaughter waking up before you inevitably end the conversation. 

“It’s alright,” you vaguely answer. “I don't know, I’m not too worried about it. I told the planner to just make it pink and cute… and to trust her gut so she doesn’t bother me too much.”

“Honey!” She scolds you. “It’s your daughter's first birthday for christ sake, can you sound a little more excited about it?”

“I am excited,” you hiss back. “It just makes me sad to think about how fast time went by, I don’t want her to grow up.”

“I was sad about it too when I was planning your first birthday, but I was still included in the process.”

“Well that’s you.” You giggle as you finish wiping the kitchen counter. “It’s not that big of a deal, there’s party planners for a reason.”

“You’re going to look back one day and regret it.” She says, you can hear her shuffling around in the background. 

“Maybe.” You mumble, thinking about other things you’ll probably regret more than not being included in the process of planning a party. 

Like not telling Sayomi’s dad about her. 

You always wonder what his reaction would be if he were to ever find out. It’d most likely be one filled with rage, you’re just not sure if it would be towards having to be responsible for a little human being or towards the missed time. 

Probably the former. He was as irresponsible as they come, but so were you– at least at that time anyways.

You both were too busy in your careers to settle down, it’s why you never put a label on things. With anyone else, you would’ve put your foot down— if they’d didn’t claim you, you were gone. 

Not with Sukuna, he made you weak.

He made it so hard for you to put your foot down that you never even considered asking the dreaded “so what are we?”

He gave you just about everything during those meetups— he was fun to talk to, made you feel wanted, even the aftercare he gave you was unmatched. 

He fucked you like he loved you— slowly dragging his cock out of you, as if he wanted you to think about what you were missing in those few moments. All just so he can shove himself back into you, as a reminder that everything you needed was right there, on top of you. 

He’s a fucking asshole, but knew how to play the role of a loving boyfriend in the hours you visited him. 

Keyword: in those hours. Outside of that, he was practically none existent. But you couldn’t blame him, he was an up and coming rugby star. He spent his days training or strategizing with his teammates for the next game, he spent half of his year traveling. He didn’t have time for anyone but himself.

Eventually, you started ditching a condom all together. You swore your birth control would do the job— it fucking didn’t, and a part of you still wants to sue that company. 

But you don’t, because it wouldn’t hold up in court due to the 1% chance it won’t work, or whatever that percentage is. Plus, you don’t want your daughter getting on your case over it one day if she did find out. 

It’s not her, it’s the principle.

It was your fault at the end of the day. You were just straight up reckless with the way you let him.. ahem— begged— him to come inside of you each time he was all up in your guts. He’d taunt you for being weak, driving his dick inside of you even faster and harder whenever you showed signs that you were close, then encourage you to cum right on his cock that’d split you open each and everytime time you met up with him. 

You were so scared at first, going back and forth on how you should tell him– if you should tell him. A big part of you wanted the baby and convinced yourself he’d make you get an abortion out of fear that you might just be after money, so you never did. 

Yeah, you gaslit yourself.

But everything turned out better than you thought it’d be. Your parents were willing to set you up in a gated community just because it was safer for you and your daughter to live there. They pay the rent while you pay for everything else. 

You now run your own business managing multiple businesses’ social media accounts. It’s quite lucrative, so you’re able to afford a nanny while working from home.

Your parents love Sayomi and don’t hold back showing it. They don’t know who her father is, you won’t tell them… but she oddly looks like a well known rugby player that's from the region. 

It's a suspicion they keep to themselves though, they like spending time with her and would rather not start an argument with you after asking who the father is. It didn’t end well last time, so they just avoid the topic now. 

You’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts after someone rang your doorbell, must be your neighbor that you became friends with shortly after moving here. She’s the typical neighbour that shows up at your door asking for sugar or eggs comically enough. 

“Can I call you back, mom? Someone’s at the door.” You kindly interrupt her. 

“Actually, we can continue this later.” She sighs, you can hear her keys jiggling. “I’m leaving for a yoga class right now.”

“Okay. Have fun!”

“Thank you sweetheart. Give Yomi a kiss for me when she wakes up.”

“I will, bye.” The doorbell rings again right after you hang up, which slightly annoys you since they haven’t been waiting that long. It’s like they think a second ring is gonna have you running to the door. 

It rings a third time and you hold your tongue, yelling back is just going to wake up the baby. 

You finally open the door and an immediate chill runs down your spine as you look up at a very angry Sukuna. He as tall as ever, presence as imposing as ever, and for the first time it is you that his anger is directed towards.

His eyes momentarily drift down to your chest before speaking. “We need to ta–.”

Completely terrified as to how he even found you, let alone get past security to even enter this neighborhood, you immediately slam the door in his face.

And you should be terrified, he begins to laugh before raising his voice. “I see you haven’t changed one bit.” He says— hoping you can hear him, hoping your back's up against the wall and panicking right now. “I haven’t changed either, sweetheart. Better open up before I show you I’m still crazy as fuck if you piss me off.”

You’ve seen it before, multiple times, just not towards you. Each time you saw it, you’d always pray that you’d never find yourself on the receiving end of the man's wrath. 

“You need to leave before I call the cops. You can’t just go around threatening people like that.” You say, powering through the shakiness of your voice. 

“And you can’t just hide a child from their father either. I saw you two at the park, let me see her.” His voice is still calm, but becoming more firm. He knows you're bluffing. “I’m giving you 10 seconds to open this door before I give you a reason to call the cops.”

There’s nothing but silence from your end, it’s infuriating to him. Each second that passes, he feels like he’s slowly being removed from his own body, being replaced by something that thrives off rage. 

And for you, you kind of wanna die right now, but unfortunately you can’t because you have a daughter to take care of. The sound of his voice ends up being drowned out by your own thoughts, thinking about the possibilities of what would happen if you opened that door. 

But before you know it, you’re quickly pulled back to reality as he ends his countdown and begins to bang on your door incessantly. 

“Open the door— I’m not fuckin’ around, open the FUCKING DOOR.” He yells out your name, pounding at the door so hard you’re sure he’ll break it off its hinges. “I’m not fucking leaving until you open up and let me see her! You should be glad I came here instead of going straight to my lawyer you piece of SHIT– OPEN THE FUCK UP.”

As if it couldn't have gotten any worse, your daughter wakes up from the ruckus. Her cries will always be ten times worse than Sukuna’s knocking, you’re convinced from the way she is screaming from the top of her lungs as if someone were hurting her.

“Fine just.. shut up! Please!” You finally snap and nearly beg from the overstimulation of listening to your daughter crying and a grown man literally barking at the same time. You begrudgingly swing the door open and he’s met with a set of tired, glossy eyes and decides to settle down. “I just put her down and it takes forever doing it.” You lightly complain.

He says nothing in the response, slightly stunned at how quick your mood changed. Not like he has much of a choice though, you storm off before he gets the chance too– being left to shut the front door on his own and awkwardly wait at the foyer because he doesn’t know where the hell you went off to. 

The house is nice, almost as big as his. But it’s also too big for just the two of you, leaving him to wonder again if you had a partner or something. Not that he’s one to talk. He lives alone, but he has his family and girlfriend over often since he has the space to entertain guests.

Fuck— he just asked if she wanted to make things official last month. She’s not gonna be happy about this.

His thoughts are quickly pushed away though when he hears the sounds of footsteps, whimpering, and you gently shushing them. 

You and the baby finally come into view, both frowning at him for different reasons. He was too far away earlier to see, but aside from your eyes and death glare, the girl looks just like him. 

Sayomi’s staring at him with a look that screams “what the fuck is this stranger doing in my house”, all while gently sniffling because she is rightfully pissed about being woken up. 

You can’t help but notice how stiff he is while looking at his carbon copy and decide to be the first one to speak up, by formally introducing him to her. 

“This is Sayomi and she’ll be 10 months old in a week.” It’s cuter when you say it to other people, their reactions are usually squishing her cheeks and raving about how adorable she is. Sukuna looks more shell shocked than anything. “...Do you wanna hold her?”

“I mean… yeah, but not if she’s just gonna get mad at me and start crying.” He says, while Sayomi continues to stare him down. Well, at least he respects boundaries, that’s sort of a good sign. 

“Lucky for you, she stares at things she finds interesting. If she didn’t want you to hold her, she’d have a death grip on to me right now with her face tucked into the crook of my neck.” 

He has a quick flashback of how he used to do the same with you whenever he was tired, but quickly shakes it off. Now’s not the time to start yearning for you or your touch all over again, he literally just got over you. 

“You sure about that?” He says, slightly hurt from the way she’s side eyeing him. 

“Positive.” You hold back a sigh at his hesitance. He was acting like he was going to murder you just 5 minutes ago, now he looks like he’s scared of an innocent baby. “Just take her please, my arms are starting to hurt.”

It’s one of the things that comes with having a child with a rugby player, they’re chunky. But you can’t complain too much, she’s very huggable. 

You end up handing her to him before he gets another chance to protest, not bothering to instruct him on how to hold her because you know all about how he’d watch Yuji. Even with your child being in the 90th percentile, she still looks miniature when being held by him. 

“Look at you, cheeks are all wet from cryin’.” He murmurs, beginning to wipe them off. She sniffles again and lets out a deep sigh in response– you both know it's a good sign, she’s finally settling down after getting ripped out of her sleep. “M’sorry, I just wanted to meet you.”

You talk to her normally too, so she usually babbles back to people in response, which is what she does in response to his words. It’s ridiculous(ly) (cute), watching her slowly open up to him just minutes after losing her shit— something she gets from her father. Each time she babbles out some incoherent sentence, he acts like he knows what she’s saying and she smiles a little more each time. 

“Mama.” She suddenly turns to you and says, pointing her finger at him. It's her little way of asking who he is since you always tell her the names of things she points at.

“That’s Dada.” You say in response. “Can you say Dada?”

“…Ada.” She confidently says.

Close enough. 

You avoid Sukuna’s gaze, you can just feel how annoyed he is at this point. “Has she said Dada before?”

“Mhm, last week.” You say enthusiastically, playing with Sayomi’s hand after she grabbed onto your thumb.

“Must’ve been her tryna manifest me. Probably thinking, ‘let me meet my dad, you conniving bitch’ or something.” He says in the same smooth tone.

“Watch it.” If he weren’t holding her right now, you would’ve smacked him for calling you that. 

“Did I lie?” He argues with you in a playful tone, then turns his attention back to his daughter who’s completely unaware of anything for obvious reasons. “‘Cause last time I checked, your Mama hid you from me.”

“Don’t do this in front of her.” You warn him.

“Fine.” He lets it go, after getting one last jab in. “Any other words that I missed out on?” 

“She also knows how to say no.” 

He chuckles, “sounds like my kid.” 

“Unfortunately.” You say under your breath. It wipes the smirk off of his face but you don’t notice it since you start to walk away from him, he quickly follows with little Sayomi in his arms. 

“How did you find me? Actually, how did you even get past security?” You ask, leading him to the living room.

“I know someone. I also live in the northern part of the neighborhood.” He not-so-humbly brags. That’s the area where you need to go through three different gates just to get to a house. “Just moved there last week.” 

No wonder why you haven’t seen him at the private grocery store yet.

“Well that’s… good.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I don’t know what else to say. I don’t even know what to think right now to completely tell you the truth.” You admit.

“Yeah? Imagine how I feel.” He scoffs, plopping down on the couch with the baby still in his arms. “Can she walk yet?”

“No, she’s able to pull herself up and stand for a couple seconds though.”

“Is that so?” He looks back at her, at this point her interest has moved on to something else— the little bunny plush on the other side of the couch that she’s pointing and humming at. 

You beat him to it and hand it to her before sitting down beside him, with a reasonable amount of space between you two. He’s taking this a lot better than you thought he would, probably because he wants to behave right now in front of her. 

“Why’d you do it?” He murmurs as he fiddles with the bunny’s ear while Sayomi continues to play with it. 

“Guess I was scared of your reaction,” you begin to pick at your cuticles— a bad habit that should’ve been dropped a long time ago. “Thought you’d make me get an abortion or something.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide.” He sighs, surprised that you thought that low of him. He wasn’t around a lot, but he was nice to you when he was. Not once did he ever raise his voice at you, never snapped at you. Even when he was ordering food delivery, he'd let you pick-- every single time. “It wasn’t for me to decide whether you wanted to keep her or not either.” 

“I know.” You sigh, leaning back out the couch and giving yourself a moment. “I was scared.” 

“You said that already.” He looks down at the kid then back up at you, unsure if he should just feel thankful that he’s here now or if he should just continue to be pissed. “That’ll never be a good enough answer for me.”

“For what it’s worth, it was something I’ve always regretted after giving birth to her.”

He only hums in response to that, trying his best to hold his tongue because it’s hard to believe. If you truly did regret it, you would’ve reached out to him. He’s convinced you would’ve gone the rest of your life without telling him. “Are you gonna let me be in her life now or am I gonna have to fight you over that too?”

“What does being in her life look like to you?”

“I dunno.” He shrugs, taking the time to think it through. He works a lot, travels a lot, parties a lot. “We’re technically neighbors, so how about I just start coming over to see her for now. I’ll figure the rest out later.”

“We can do that.” You cautiously say. 

Hopefully he keeps it fair, he has the upper hand already by being the good guy for once.

a/n: soooo do we think sukuna's gonna be a good boy?

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Nerd!Gojo x Nerd!You

Nerdjo x nerd reader!

Part 1 no next part sorry I lost the motivation 😔 and lost most of my works

Part 3

♡Gojo, the paranoid investigator.He is now on a mission to prove you’re human.He starts stalking (observing is the word he prefers) you, noting down every tiny habit.But every time you catch him staring, you don’t call him out.You just stare back. Unblinking. Unfazed.His brain short-circuits. His soul leaves his body. Suguru finds him sitting in a corner later, mumbling, “She’s not real… she’s not real…”

♡Gojo, the humbled flirt.He’s never failed at flirting before. Ever. So when he dramatically tells you, “I’d bring the moon to you if I could.”He expects something a scoff, an eyeroll, a blush. Instead, you say, “That’s scientifically impossible.” The way you deadpan it makes him rethink his entire existence.Suguru and Shoko witness this and nearly die laughing.

♡Gojo, the desperate competitor.He stays up all night, studying harder than he ever has in his entire life, just to beat you in the rankings. The results come out. You still top. He’s second. But the worst part? You don’t even react. No smile, no satisfaction, no nothing. He’s not mad that he lost he’s mad that you didn’t care. He dramatically flops onto Suguru’s shoulder. “She’s a machine, man… I’m up against a machine…”

♡Gojo, the secret romantic.No one knows, but he loves romance novels. It’s his guilty pleasure.One day, he’s in the library, nose deep in one, when you suddenly sit next to him.He panics. He immediately slams the book shut.You glance at the cover. You say nothing.You just… nod slightly and continue reading your own book.For some reason, that’s way worse than if you had teased him.

♡Gojo, the horror movie victim.He once fell asleep in the library and woke up at 3 AM. Everything is dark. Silent. He feels like he’s in a horror movie.Then he sees you. Sitting at a table, reading, like some paranormal entity that never moves.He has never known fear like this before.He contemplates running, but his legs don’t work.He watches in terror as you slowly… turn the page of your book.He passes out.

♡Gojo, the human experiment conspiracist.He is convinced now. You are not normal. You are not real.He asks Shoko to run a “human test” to confirm.

She plays along and casually tells you, “Hey, mind giving me a blood sample?”Gojo watches you for any sign of panic.You blink. “No.” And walk away.

He gasps. He screams.

“SHE DIDN’T EVEN ASK WHY. SUGURU, SHE DIDN’T EVEN ASK WHY.”

♡Gojo, the fool in denial. He refuses to admit he finds you interesting.

“I don’t like her, okay? I just wanna know more about my rival.”

Suguru and Shoko exchange looks. “Sure.”

“I MEAN IT.”

“Mhm. Sure. Do your homework.”

He storms off in frustration.

♡Gojo, the dramatic love announcer. One day, out of nowhere, he slams his hands on the lunch table, eyes wide with revelation.

“I THINK I FOUND MY MATCH.”

Suguru and Shoko don’t even look up. “Yeah, we know.”

“YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND. SHE’S—”

“Yeah, yeah. Do your homework, Gojo.”

He stares at them in betrayal. They’re supposed to be shocked.

He’s suffering, and they don’t even care.

♡Gojo, the haunted. One day, he catches you staring at him.His heart stops. His brain malfunctions.You just tilt your head slightly, as if analyzing him.And then you go back to your book.That moment haunts him to this day.

♡Gojo, the theorist.He starts developing wild theories.Maybe you’re a spy. Maybe you’re a hacker. Maybe you’re an escaped AI prototype from a secret lab.

Suguru literally smacks the back of his head. “Shut up and focus on your work.”

♡Gojo, the secret simp.He doesn’t even realize he’s simping for you.One time, someone called you boring for always studying.

Without hesitation, Gojo fired back, “At least she exists. You just stand around judging people who do.”

The entire room went silent.

He immediately realized what he just said and pretended to choke on air.

♡Gojo, the needy puppy.When he wants something from you, his voice turns softer.

“Show it to me please… send it to me, Y/nnnn.”

He stretches your name out like a whiny kid.

Suguru stares at him in disgust.

♡Gojo, the unshakable, now very shaken.His ultimate goal? Make you react.

First, he starts leaving anonymous cute notes.

You glance at them for two seconds, then toss them in the trash.

His heart shatters.

Then, he tries challenging you. “Bet you can’t solve this.”

You solve it in seconds. He gasps. He didn’t even know the problem had an answer. (He made the question)

As a final resort, he sends you a fake love letter, thinking you’ll finally get flustered.

You read it and say, “It’s technically impossible to climb Everest in three minutes for a girl.”

He wants to scream.

♡Gojo, the ignored.He gets petty. Tries ignoring you for three hours to make you notice his absence.You don’tyHe snaps.

“Missed me?”

You blink. “Oh, I didn’t even know you were here today.”

♡That one physically hurt.

♡ Gojo, the fool who fell.He’s never met someone like you.You challenge him in a way no one ever has.He hates it. He loves it.He’s completely doomed.

@syrooo @hel1nn @ourfinalisation @dekusdante @naomigojo

♯┆𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 .ᐟ — 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’ve faked it with every guy you’ve ever worked with. Every scene, every moan, convincing, but never real. Then Bakugo happens. One scene turns into something else entirely and now you can’t stop thinking about him, and you’re starting to wonder if it was ever just a scene.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content. smut, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, fingering, rough sex, praise, light degradation, dirty talk, light choking, possessiveness, semi-public sex (on set), creampie, light aftercare, porn industry setting, blurred emotional lines, language.

PART TWO

You weren’t nervous. Not really.

You’d done this a hundred times. With all the big names—Keigo, who liked to make everything a performance; Touya, who had a thing for whispering filth like he was telling you a secret; even that wild three-way with Shindo and Hitoshi that still topped your subscriber requests.

So no, this wasn’t nerves.

This was something else.

Maybe it was the name on the call sheet. Bakugo Katsuki.

He was the guy. The one who didn’t just act like a powerhouse on camera—he was one. Every scene he was in got clipped, shared, memed, thirsted after. The kind of raw intensity people couldn’t stop watching. Or jerking off to.

You included. Not that you’d admit it out loud.

Okay. Maybe once. When you were wine drunk and swiping through his catalog. Maybe twice. Maybe more.

You’d watched him wreck other girls. Watched the way his hands gripped hips like he owned them. The way his mouth dragged moans out like he knew exactly what buttons to push. You always told yourself it was research. Prep for the inevitable scene.

Now here you were, in the makeup chair, legs crossed, phone in hand, trying not to stare at the clock. You didn’t even get this antsy for award shows.

You shifted your hips a little. God, you needed to get a grip.

“Five minutes, Y/N,” someone called from set.

You gave a casual wave, sliding your phone into your bag. Cool. Easy. You’d done this before. You were the girl. The one who always looked good, always knew her angles, always gave the most convincing moans. No one ever knew they were fake.

No one needed to.

You only did this for the money. Never caught feelings, never chased orgasms. You could finish on your own time. You always did.

But when you walked onto set and saw him—arms crossed, shirtless, sweatpants hanging low, like the cameras were already rolling—your breath hitched.

And then his eyes locked on you.

Bakugo didn’t smile. He smirked. All sharp teeth and slow drags of his gaze. Like he was already undressing you in his head.

“‘Bout time,” he said, voice low and cocky.

You raised a brow. “Don’t get cocky, Dynamight.”

He stepped forward, close enough that you had to tilt your chin up. He smelled like something spicy—cologne, sweat, and danger. His smirk widened.

“Too late, princess. I’ve seen your work. Bet I could make you actually cum.”

You laughed. It came out a little shaky. “You think you’re the first guy to say that?”

“Nah,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek like he had every right to touch you already. “But I’ll be the first one to prove it.”

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped anyway. Cocky bastard. You weren’t new to bold claims—hell, you’d heard that same line from half the industry. But something about the way he said it, all low and sure like it was a promise, made your pulse skip.

You turned away before he could see the heat rising to your cheeks.

The scene started like any other.

Lights. Camera. Action.

You were on your back, legs spread, eyes half-lidded. Your moans were perfectly timed, your hands moving just how they were supposed to.

Bakugo was above you, teasing at first, fingers trailing up your thigh, smirking like he had all the time in the world. You tried to stay in character. Tried to focus.

But then his fingers actually slipped inside, and holy shit—

You bit your lip.

That felt… different.

His fingers weren’t just thrusting. They curled. Pressed. Rubbed against the spot you usually had to hunt for on your own. And when he looked down at you, his eyes weren’t blank or performative. They were locked in. Watching every twitch of your mouth. Every hitch in your breath.

“You always fake it this early?” he muttered under his breath, so low only you could hear.

Your stomach flipped. Your thighs tensed.

“What?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

Bakugo chuckled. It rumbled low in his chest.

“You’re tight,” he said, dragging his thumb over your clit just right. “But you ain’t clenching like you mean it. Not yet.”

And then he sucked on your inner thigh.

Not for the camera. Not for show.

For you.

Your back arched on instinct.

“Relax,” he murmured, lips brushing against your skin. “I got you.”

And you hated—hated—how badly you wanted to believe him.

He didn’t start slow.

He licked into you like he was starving, like he’d been starving, and this was his first meal in weeks. His tongue was hot, wet, relentless—flicking against your clit in firm, practiced strokes that had your legs trembling before you could even bite back the first moan.

You weren’t acting.

Not anymore.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you, white-knuckled, and your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but all that came out was a broken little gasp.

“Oh fuck—”

He hummed against you. Smug bastard.

“Don’t hold back now, princess,” he murmured, dragging his tongue up your slit slow, then latching back onto your clit like he owned it. “Let’s show ‘em what it looks like when it’s real.”

You whimpered. Whimpered. You didn’t do that.

Not even when Keigo pulled out the toys. Not even when Touya did that breathy thing in your ear.

This was different.

You tried—tried—to keep it together, but his mouth moved like he already knew every inch of you. Tongue swirling, lips sucking, fingers still working inside you like he wasn’t giving you a fucking choice. He knew exactly where to press, where to flick, when to slow down and when to pick it back up again.

And it wasn’t even for the camera.

It was for you.

Your stomach coiled, tight. Too tight.

Your breathing hitched. Your thighs started to shake. You were going to—

“No,” you gasped, voice panicked, eyes fluttering. “Don’t—fuck—I’m—”

“Yeah you are,” Bakugo growled, pulling back just long enough to look at you. His mouth was wet with you, lips swollen, eyes wild. “C’mon. Don’t fake it. Just fuckin’ let go.”

And then he sucked—hard—right over your clit.

Your body snapped.

The orgasm hit like a wave crashing through you, ripping the air from your lungs. You didn’t fake it. You couldn’t. Your moans were raw, broken, punched out of you like the wind got knocked from your chest. You shook, hands flying to his hair, thighs locking around his head as your back arched off the bed.

And he didn’t stop.

Kept going. Licking, pressing, dragging your orgasm out like he wanted to ruin you.

You came again, again, before you’d even come down from the first.

Your voice cracked. “Bakugo, I—I can’t—”

“Yeah you can,” he muttered, not letting up for a second. “You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good. Look at you.”

You couldn’t. Your vision blurred. Your whole body was buzzing, on fire, shaking like you’d lost control of every single nerve ending. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You didn’t lose it like this.

But god, he was still licking you through it, fingers still curling right there, his voice low and wrecked as he talked you through it like he wanted to brand the sound of your orgasm into your memory forever.

“You gonna cum for me again?” he asked, voice gravel and heat, eyes flicking up to meet yours.

You nodded, desperate, lost.

“Say it,” he growled. “Say it’s real.”

Your lips trembled.

“It’s real,” you gasped, breathless, broken. “It’s real, fuck I’m gonna—”

And just like that, you came undone again. Loud. Messy. Helpless.

Bakugo didn’t stop until your hips were twitching, your thighs were soaked, and your moans turned into soft little sobs of overstimulation.

The lights above you still burned hot. The cameras were still rolling. But everything else felt far away—muted, blurry, unreal. Your legs were jelly. Your chest rose and fell like you’d just run a marathon. And Bakugo was still between them, licking his lips like he’d just tasted something forbidden and planned to do it again.

Your brain was still fogged when he stood, stretching to his full height.

Then his hands were back on you, big and warm and so sure, gripping your waist like he owned it. He flipped you over effortlessly, face down, ass up, skin still hot and damp with sweat. Your thighs trembled when they spread open again, already overstimulated and soaked.

Bakugo slid his hands up your back. Slow. Possessive.

“You feel that?” he murmured, leaning over you, his cock grinding against your ass with lazy pressure. “That twitch in your legs? That little shake?”

You nodded weakly, eyes fluttering.

“That’s mine now.”

Your breath caught as he pulled his hips back. You barely had time to process before the thick head of his cock was pressing against your entrance—hot, heavy, and already wet from you.

“You ready?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

Then he pushed in.

Slow. All the way to the hilt. Letting you feel every inch. Stretching you open, filling you to the fucking brim. You choked on a moan, fingers gripping the sheets like your life depended on it.

He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, buried deep inside you, letting your pussy throb around him.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, hips flexing. “So fuckin’ tight. Can feel you squeezing me already.”

You were. He hadn’t even started moving yet and you were clenching around him like you didn’t want him to leave.

Then—he moved.

A slow drag out. A sharp thrust back in. Deep. Deeper. Your mouth dropped open. No sound came out.

“That the spot?” he murmured, hips rolling again, hitting the same angle, slow and deliberate.

You nodded, gasping.

“You better fuckin’ tell me when you’re close,” he growled, pace still maddeningly slow. “I wanna feel it. I wanna hear it.”

He reached around and pressed two fingers against your clit, rubbing soft, teasing circles that made your arms give out. You dropped to your elbows, back arching like he’d wired you for pleasure.

Then he started really fucking you.

Not fast. Not rough. Just deep. Every. Single. Stroke. Reaching places that made your eyes roll back. His hips snapped forward with just enough force to jolt you up the bed, his fingers never leaving your clit.

You moaned into the mattress, voice high and broken.

“That’s it,” he breathed. “That’s the fuckin’ sound I wanted.”

You were spiraling. Every thrust, every rub, every low growl in your ear sent you closer to the edge.

“Bakugo, I—I’m gonna—”

“Yeah?” he grunted, hips picking up speed, still hitting that spot that made your toes curl. “Then fuckin’ cum for me.”

You shattered.

You clenched around him so tight he groaned, biting down on a curse as your body trembled under him. Your moan punched out of your throat, high and wrecked and real.

But he didn’t stop.

“Oh fuck—fuck, wait—” you gasped, hips twitching as he kept thrusting, dragging you straight into another orgasm with no break.

He leaned over you, voice low in your ear. “Not fakin’ now, huh?”

You shook your head wildly, whining into the sheets.

“Bet you never came like this on set before,” he said, voice rough. “Bet no one’s ever made you cum like this off it either.”

He wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled gently, just enough to lift your head.

“Say it.”

You could barely speak. “No one. No one but you.”

“Damn right.”

His thrusts sped up, rougher now, deeper. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, joined by your wrecked little gasps, your whines, the slick mess between your thighs.

“You hear that?” he said, low and smug. “That fuckin’ sound your pussy’s makin’? That’s all me.”

You whimpered, and he slapped your ass—not hard, just enough to make you clench again.

“Ohhh, fuck,” he groaned, hips stuttering. “You’re gonna make me cum just like that.”

And then he slammed into you. Hard. Once. Twice. Over and over. You screamed—literally—as another orgasm crashed through you, your body locking up, eyes rolling back.

“Fuckfuckfuck—” he gasped, and then pulled out just in time to stroke himself twice, thick ropes of cum painting your back, his voice ragged as he came with a low, wrecked growl.

You collapsed.

No faking. No poses. Just you, ruined on the sheets, shaking and soaked and completely fucking gone.

Bakugo dropped to his knees behind you, panting. He grabbed a towel off the edge of the bed, wiped you down gently—so gently it made your chest ache.

“You good?” he asked, voice quiet now. Careful.

You nodded, still dizzy. Still pulsing. Still floating.

“I came so many times I lost count,” you whispered, dazed.

He chuckled, cocky and low. “Good.”

You rolled onto your side, trying to catch your breath.

“That was supposed to be a scene,” you mumbled. “That felt like a fucking movie.”

Bakugo leaned in, kissed your bare shoulder, then smirked against your skin.

“Baby,” he murmured, “that was just the warm-up.”

You snorted softly, still breathless. “You’re insane.”

“You love it.”

Your legs were still trembling, body wrecked and used and buzzing. But something else was humming under your skin now. That ache in your core—not from need, but from power.

You rolled over, slow and deliberate, dragging your fingers down his chest. His eyes tracked every movement.

“Get on your back,” you whispered.

Bakugo raised a brow but didn’t argue. He leaned back against the pillows, smirking like he thought he still had the upper hand.

His hair was damp with sweat. His lips were swollen. His chest rose and fell in hard, uneven breaths. You’d never seen him like this.

Your grin widened.

You leaned down and kissed him—soft, slow, way too good to be acting. Then you sat back, hips lifting off him, and slid down his body.

“Where you goin’?” he rasped, half-laughing, half-breathless.

You looked up at him from between his thighs, eyes dark, lips parted. “Didn’t say I was done with you yet.”

His breath caught.

You licked up the underside of his cock—slow, teasing, wet. He twitched in your hand, muscles tensing as you took your time, letting your mouth work him like you had something to prove. And maybe you did. Maybe you just wanted to see him fall apart the way he’d done to you.

You looked up, mouth wrapped around the tip, and saw it—the crack in his composure. The soft clench of his jaw. The desperate twitch in his thigh. The helpless sound he made when you sucked just right.

“You’re so sensitive, you’re not gonna last,” you said around him, lips brushing the head.

His fingers gripped the sheets. “Don’t—don’t stop.”

You didn’t.

You kept going, messy and perfect, tongue flicking and mouth sinking deeper, until he was panting, until he was cursing under his breath, until his hips jerked off the bed.

And then you pulled off, slow, dragging your tongue over the tip one last time.

He made a noise—wrecked.

You climbed back up his body, straddling his hips again. His hands found your thighs like muscle memory, gripping tight.

You leaned down, lips brushing his jaw.

“Beg.”

He froze. “What?”

You rolled your hips once, just enough to feel the slide of his cock against your slick entrance.

“Say it,” you whispered. “Tell me you want it.”

Bakugo swallowed hard. His voice was low, rough. “I want it.”

You licked the shell of his ear, teasing. “Not good enough.”

His hands trembled where they held you. Then he growled, breath hot.

“Please.”

You stilled.

“What was that?”

He gritted his teeth. Looked up at you like he hated how much he meant it.

“Please,” he repeated. “I want you. Need you. Fuck, I’ll say whatever you want—just ride me.”

You smiled. Real. Slow. Lazy and smug.

Then you sank down on him—deep, wet, tight—and his whole body arched beneath you, a broken moan punching out of his throat like you’d ripped it from his chest.

His hands flew to your hips.

You rode him slow. Sweet. All control. And when he finally came again—loud, raw, completely undone—you kissed him through it. Held him through it.

And when he whispered your name afterward, soft and stunned, like he didn’t know what just hit him

You smiled. Because for once, it wasn’t just acting.

Neither of you moved right away. His arms were still around you, chest rising and falling under your cheek, skin damp with sweat, muscles twitching beneath your fingers. Your heart was still beating too fast, and so was his.

Eventually, though, you had to get up. Had to move. The spell didn’t break, exactly—it just faded enough to remember where you were, who you were, what this was supposed to be.

You pulled on your robe in silence, legs still shaking slightly, and glanced at him across the bed. He sat up slow, pushing his hair back, watching you with something unreadable in his eyes. Like maybe he had more to say, but didn’t know how. Or didn’t think he should.

You hesitated.

So did he.

“Um…I’ll see you around,” you said, trying to make it sound casual, even though your voice came out a little too soft.

“Yeah,” he said, standing and reaching for his clothes. “Guess you will.”

Your stomach twisted, weirdly tight, but you smiled anyway. You nodded once, turned, and walked off set without looking back.

You didn’t see the way he watched you go.

Didn’t see the way his fingers flexed like he wanted to reach for you.

Didn’t hear the low, quiet fuck that slipped from under his breath when the door finally shut behind you.

You got home and didn’t even shower right away.

You peeled off your clothes slow, every muscle sore in the best possible way, and collapsed into bed wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie and your post-fuck glow. Your thighs ached. Your voice was half-gone. Your lips were still swollen.

You looked wrecked.

You felt worse.

And yet somehow, the only thing you could think about was him. The way he’d looked at you. The way he sounded saying your name. The way his hands had held you after like he wasn’t ready to let go.

You tried to distract yourself. Pulled up the scene, freshly posted not even an hour ago.

It already had thousands of likes. Hundreds of comments. More than anything you’d dropped in months.

You scrolled.

StepOnMeY/N: Holy shit, that was unreal.

BbyBakuGo: not y/n faking with everyone but bakugo

ToyasToy: Was that real? Tell me that was real.

It was.

You scrolled further.

KeigoOfficial: I feel personally offended. Gonna have to step my game up. Rematch y/n?

TouyaTodo: faked it? With me? damn. i must be losing my edge. hit me up when you wanna make it real doll.

You smirked.

Your DM notifications were blowing up. People you’d worked with. People you hadn’t. Everyone suddenly curious. Hungry. Competitive.

Your stomach flipped. It was fun. It was flattering. But none of it hit quite the same.

Then you saw it.

BakugoK: Already need more from my favorite girl.

You stared at it.

Read it once.

Twice.

A third time, just to make sure it was real.

Your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers went numb. You sat up in bed, heart pounding in your chest like it was trying to escape. Because what the fuck did that mean?

You clicked on his profile. Double checked that it was him.

It was.

No emoji. No game. Just a single comment that said everything and nothing all at once.

Already need more.

Favorite girl.

You slammed your laptop shut and screamed into your pillow. You kicked your feet like a schoolgirl. You laughed—hysterical, breathless, completely losing your mind.

Then you opened your laptop, stared at the comment again, and whispered out loud to no one

“Oh my god.”

Because yeah—you’d done this a hundred times. But this one was different.