You And Katsuki Weren’t Dating Or Anything, But It Didn’t Seem Like The Two Of You Were Just Friends

༝     .   MAMA SANDWICH ! .  ✿

SUMMARY: after a long day, cuddling is just what you need from your husband toji. or... your child megumi? both? oh great. here comes war.

WC: 852

NOTES: I HAVE BEEN ON THE BIGGEST TOJI BRAINROT so incoming; toji fics are on its way

Evening in the Fushiguro household was always a soft sort of chaos.

Dinner had been eaten. Megumi’s tiny face had been wiped clean (after much squirming and pouting). Pajamas were on, teeth brushed—though Toji insisted, “The kid’s only got like three teeth, what’s there to brush?”—and now it was finally time for the best part of the day.

Cuddle Time.

You were curled up on the couch, warm and cozy under a big blanket, reading a book and half-listening to the quiet hum of the night. You’d barely blinked when a familiar weight crashed beside you.

“‘Kay, move over.”

Toji’s gravelly voice. Grumpy, low, but unmistakably pouty in that way he tried to hide.

You shifted just enough to make room as he flopped beside you with a groan, throwing one arm around your waist and pulling you in with that effortless strength of his.

“Rough day?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

“Always,” he muttered, burying his face into your neck like a heat-seeking missile. “Missed you.”

You smiled softly, fingers carding through his dark hair. “I’m right here.”

You should’ve expected what came next.

Tiny, stompy feet. The quiet pat-pat-pat of your son’s determined little march.

Megumi waddled into the living room, wearing his favorite wolf-print pajama pants and dragging his own little blanket like a warrior preparing for battle.

He stopped in front of the couch. Squinted.

Frowned.

“…Papa, move.”

Toji peeked one eye open. “No.”

“I wanna cuddle Mama.”

“Too bad. I got here first.”

“Not fair!” Megumi huffed, cheeks puffed out, hands balling into tiny fists. “She’s my mama!”

Toji didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

“She’s my wife.”

“But—!”

Megumi stomped once more, then—with all the dramatic flair of a bedtime soap opera—climbed on top of you, shoving his way between your chest and Toji’s arm like a chubby little wedge.

“Toji—” you started, laughing as the blanket slipped down your shoulder.

“No. Nope. He’s not allowed in here.”

“He’s your son,” you reminded, trying to wrangle the squirmy toddler now making himself at home in your arms.

“He’s a traitor.”

Megumi smirked triumphantly, curling into your chest and patting your collarbone like he’d just conquered a new kingdom. “My Mama.”

Toji let out a dramatic sigh, glaring at Megumi like he’d just been dethroned. “You get her all day. I get her at night. That’s the rule.”

Megumi looked up at you. “Is that true?”

You blinked. “There’s a rule?”

Toji grunted. “There should be.”

But Megumi wasn’t budging. He threw one leg over your stomach and settled in like a cat, kicking Toji’s side lightly in the process.

You were wheezing from trying not to laugh. “Okay, okay—stop. You both can cuddle me.”

“No.” They said it at the same time.

Toji tugged you closer, trying to reclaim his space. Megumi clung tighter, glaring up at him with wide, watery eyes.

“She loves me more,” the kid mumbled.

Toji’s eyebrow twitched. “Wanna bet?”

Before you knew it, Toji had hooked one arm around Megumi and the other under your knees—and in one smooth, annoyingly strong motion, he hoisted both of you into his lap like you weighed nothing.

Now you were in the middle. Megumi pressed to your chest. Toji wrapped around your back, legs caging you both in.

“Aha,” he muttered smugly. “Cuddle sandwich. I win.”

“This is not winning,” you said, laughing. “This is kidnapping.”

Megumi was too busy snuggling into your hoodie, mumbling something about how warm you were and how he wanted you all to himself. Toji kept his arm slung heavy around both of you, his big hand on your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna fall asleep like this,” you warned.

“That’s the plan,” he muttered, eyes already half-lidded.

You could feel Megumi relaxing, his breathing slowing. And Toji—despite all his grumbling—was gently running his fingers up and down your side in soft, rhythmic strokes.

“…Love you, Mama,” Megumi whispered, voice already heavy with sleep.

Toji grunted softly, his mouth brushing your neck. “Tch. Love you too.”

“Who are you saying that to?” you asked, smiling.

“…Both of you.”

Your heart ached in the best possible way.

Toji—fierce and dangerous and built for anything but softness—was now the anchor of this small, sleepy pile of warmth and love. His son clung to you like you were the sun, and he held you both like you were his whole damn world.

Which, honestly, you were.

Later that night, when you were half-asleep and Megumi had long since started drooling on your chest, you felt Toji whisper into your hair.

“I used to think I was gonna die alone,” he murmured. “Now I’ve got you two, and I’m fighting a four-year-old over cuddles.”

You smiled, eyes closed, hand resting over his on your waist.

“You lost, by the way.”

Toji snorted quietly. “Nah. Still got you in my arms, didn’t I?”

And just like that, the house fell into peaceful silence—wrapped in blankets, love, and the kind of warmth Toji Fushiguro never believed he’d ever deserve.

But now?

He wouldn’t give it up for the world.

Canon

shhhhhh i’m hiding from canon. it can smell fear

・゜(。┰ω┰。).・゜

teehee, shopping with bf! katsuki for the first time is a whole new experience.

you dragged him to the mall under the pretense of just browsing. katsuki grumbles, complains the whole car ride, mutters something about how he'd rather "eat glass" than spend a weekend in a fluorescent-lit hellscape.

but the second you tug on his wrist and smile up at him, he shuts up and follows. what you don’t expect?

how much of a problem he becomes the second you enter the fitting room.

you're barely five minutes into trying on outfits when it starts. you step out, smoothing down a dress, turning side to side in the mirror.

you barely manage a “what do you think?” before he drops the phone he wasn’t even looking at and sits up straighter.

“turn around.”

you blink. “huh?”

“lemme see the back.”

you do. he whistles low, then squints. “try that in the other color.”

you raise a brow. “oh, so now you care?”

“tch. i care when it looks like that on you.”

from then on, it’s over. every. single. outfit. he's like that.

“yeah, do a little spin.”

“too tight in the chest. not that i’m complaining.”

“damn, sweets. you tryna kill me or sumthin'?”

he lounges on the little bench like he owns the place—legs spread, arms crossed, eyes locked on you like you’re center stage and he’s the only judge that matters. the store’s mirror might show you the front, but he’s giving full commentary on the back. and the sides. and the neckline.

he’s unreasonably hot while doing it too. hood half-up, jaw sharp, legs spread like he’s got thoughts about every skirt you shimmy into.

and the worst part? you start playing it up.

slipping out of the fitting room with a little strut. spinning slow just to watch his jaw tighten. running your hands down your sides, real innocent, then pretending not to notice the way he swears under his breath.

“you’re lucky we’re in public,” he grits when you try on a slinky little number that hugs way too close.

you blink. “so you like it?”

he growls. “i like it on the floor of our bedroom.”

you nearly explode.

one outfit later, you try something on that you already know is ridiculous—fluffy, sparkly, way too over-the-top—but you step out just to mess with him.

you expect him to laugh. maybe tease. instead?

he blinks once. then shrugs. “buy it.”

you pause. “wait… really?”

he smirks. “you look happy in it. that’s all i care about.”

by the time you're done, you're practically floating out of the store—arms light, mood lighter, cheeks a little sore from how much you've been grinning.

katsuki?

katsuki is not floating. katsuki is lugging six bags in one hand, two on the other, and somehow managing to balance the weirdly long one that holds the dress bag across his broad shoulders like a damn pack mule.

and the whole time? he looks pissed. jaw tight, bags slapping against his thighs as he stomps beside you.

you peek over at him, smiling sweetly. “you’re the one who said to buy everything, suki.”

“tch. only ‘cause you looked hot in it, dumbass.”

you giggle. “so it’s your fault?”

he stops walking. and glares. hard.

“i swear to god, if you say that again, i’m droppin’ all these bags and draggin’ you into the back of that h&m.”

you blink innocently. “so romantic.”

“try me, sweetheart.”

despite all his complaining, he doesn’t put a single bag down. not when you stop for a smoothie. not when you see a cute little accessory stand. not even when you wander over to look at shoes you’re not even planning on buying.

he just stands there, one foot tapping, arms full of pink and glitter and tissue paper, looking like a man who’s fought gods and monsters and still wasn’t prepared for the chaos that is dating you.

at one point, you lean up on tiptoe and kiss his cheek.

“thanks for carrying everything,” you murmur.

he huffs. “yeah, yeah.”

you kiss him again, this time slower, lingering by the edge of his jaw. “you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

and that does get a response. his ears go a little red. his mouth twitches like he wants to smile but is physically restraining it.

“hmph. i better be,” he mutters, looking away like a child, shifting all the bags in one hand just so he can wrap the other arm around your shoulders.

still grumbling.

still red.

still the best, grumpiest mall boyfriend in existence.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ bc i love procrastinating and dont write the shit i should write lmao💜 hope you guys enjoyed!!

🦮💕🐈‍⬛

⋆.˚ FAT, JUICY, & WET⭑.ᐟ⸻ Nerdjo.

THAT GOOD KITTY-KITTY, GOOD KITTY-KITTY. MAKE IT MY PET. ᯓ★ When you got involved with Gojo Satoru, you thought—'oh great.' Who knew how great things were about to get for him.

pairings ᯓ★ Nerd Gojo Satoru x reader

cw ᯓ★ NSFW, MDNI, spies, work place romance, fem oriented reader, use of she/her pronouns and the word 'girl', mentions of drugs, human trafficking and illegal activities, lowkey enemies to lovers?, reader is a badass, mention jerking off, hand jobs, biting, fingering, high key exhibitionism, grinding, sneak peek into how big of a whore I am for spanks, some action thriller stuff, pervy Gojo, virgin Gojo, sub Gojo mostly, but on field dom Gojo, switch Gojo, he is such a loser creep, down bad course 101 by Nerdtoru, I do not condone his behavior, lock him up I say u_u, tit play kinda, plot heavy, but also plot is for the smut.

a/n: find 3-aem's art used in the header here, and have funnnn, lol. this is nerd (me) on nerd (Nerdjo) crime.

It was fucked up as it is you have to suddenly work with some new partner now; first train him, and build a rapport with him. The fact that it has to be a complete lost cause loser, who can't hold his liquor, was just the shit on top of your already fungus ridden cake.

“I don't even know the first thing about women!!! How am I supposed to charm them and get information out of them!!??” A very drunk and very sad Gojo cried with the left side of his face squished on the table.

Sitting across from him, getting the front row seat of the nonchalant Gojo Satoru, the intelligence and strategy team wiz, having a meltdown, was great. If only it did not come at the cost of your own job and sanity. Life was good working as a solo spy, where your coworkers in the same division were paired off, you never had to pretend with a colleague. Most of your work involved; breaking in, charming men, sometimes beating up people, if the situation required—get them into bed. 

It never really went too far, but you have definitely done some stuff to complete the task. And you wish your job was not as hands on as it was, if only you were Gojo Satoru. Who was having fun being a behind the scenes guy. But there are only so many people working under such a secretive department under the government. Especially spies, they are very limited.

Which leads us to the matter at hand, the whole department drinking and having fun, with the excuse that Gojo got a promotion. Gojo himself would contradict to say this felt more like a demotion. Sure, he got a raise. But who cares about money when your life rides on your sex appeal and you are a pathetic virgin, who'd rather find every single detail about some president by breaking into all his digital devices and every record of his existence. Instead of wooing his secretary for that information.

He does not like the long way around things. He would rather take what he needs the easiest way possible. And preferably behind a screen.

“I AM LITERALLY A VIRGIN! WHAT WAS THE BOSS THINKING!??” 

“Give me that glass. You had enough. And stop shouting that you're a virgin.”

“But I am.” Seeing Gojo Satoru pouting and whining to you was not on your annual bingo. Yet here you are.

“What do you want me to do? Make you, not a virgin?” He did not say yes, or nod. But it was clear behind those thick shell frame spectacles, it did not matter to him that you were being sarcastic. He just wanted you to take his goddamn virginity. And he was ready to silently plead like a wet cat to make it happen.

And who knew, you would be giving the biggest loser in the department, a handjob in an alleyway behind the restaurant you regular with your colleagues. Sure it was dark there, but the length on the bastard was not something some dim alley can hide.

“God you’re huge.” you moved your thumb to press on his tip, and felt the vein on the underside of his cock twitch. “B-baby.”

“A few strokes and I am suddenly your baby?”

“Ple-please.”

“Look at you, stuttering for once. No smart explanations or anything?”

You pick up the pace at which you were pumping his cock, while continuing to leave kisses along his, now bare chest, button ups are sure easy to get rid of. Your other hand focused on holding onto his neck, keeping his head low and leaning on your head. His hands were gripping your waist with such desperation, they were bound to leave marks, and you did not mind the thought of it to your surprise.

Just as Satoru started vigorously shaking, seemingly close to his release, his hands roamed lower down your ass. “I think i will-”

“Did you see those two? I swear I saw them going to the restroom.” 

Shit. That was your boss.

Both of you looked at each other with complete horror written all over your faces. With speed, you two managed to sneak behind the dumpster in the alley. And waited out for your boss to leave, with Satoru basically half naked, with a now flaccid cock hanging out and about.

“Guess I am not losing my virginity today.” And all you do is roll your eyes in the dark, which despite not being able to see your face—Satoru definitely felt it.

After that nothing really happened. Just that Satoru moved to your section of the department, and made himself cozy in the desk across from you. Until you two got assigned to your first mission together.

“You want me to sneak into an orgy with this guy?” “Hey! I have the appeal!” You really did not have it in you to retort him with any insult. 

“Well. Mr. Hashimoto is a regular at this club and at their underground ‘parties’, the people there do not just let anyone in there.”

“So we go there and I keep a close eye on her?” Satoru seemed eased with the simplicity of the task, he just needed to be your bodyguard in the shadows. He can do that! Despite his defensiveness, he definitely was not getting into an orgy, and not that he wanted to be there anyway.

“I wish it was that simple.” Your boss got off his chair to stand in front of you two, to explain further details of the case. “Well, they only let couples in there. Only members and executives are allowed to go in there alone. A lot of stuff goes on there, human trafficking, drugs, money laundering, you name it.” 

“So I act like her sleazy boyfriend!?”

“Exactly. Just do enough to have the people scouting there, to let you guys into the private room. Take some pictures of Hashimoto in the act for now. We will assess the situation from there. ”

You knew this was going to be one pain in the ass of a mission.

The plan was simple. Look hot, get in, grind on this loser on the dance floor, get in the private room, look like you want Satoru to fuck your brains out then and there, take incriminating pictures of Hashimoto, and fuck off. If they let you easily get away with it, that is. So far the plan was going smoothly, landing on the dance floor with your back to Satoru’s chest, grinding your ass on him, and making it convincing enough that you were one shameless couple. 

“You sure are putting your all into this, baby.” Satoru had his left hand on your hips, helping you grind into his thighs, while his right hand stayed pressed under your breasts. Occasionally the right hand moved up and down your bare thighs, the mini skirt was definitely getting to him on top of your ass. It is not that often he sees you in such attire in the office, on duty and off duty, you were two very different people.

“Talk about yourself. Not looking half bad.” He swapped his usual glasses for shades, got a few fake piercings on his ears, accessories, and a very low neckline black shirt. Paired with his ripped snug fitted denim and boots—he was looking his part, with the tousled hairdo instead of his usual neatly brushed and well kept hair. 

“You can just say I look fuckable, baby.” You could not deny that. He was looking really, ‘fuckable’, as he put it. His salty ocean smelling cologne was like a reverie in the mob of sweaty people. Especially now that you know his big words match what is in his pants, it was hard to deny that you found this man hot. 

It is not some sort of revolutionary information. Gojo Satoru has always been cute. He was nice to look at from a far, up close whenever he opened his mouth it was just intolerable. Especially when you are coming back straight to the office after some overnight mission.

“Did you pop a boner!?” “Who do you think I am? A monk? You are literally grinding on me.” You might have gotten preoccupied with the not so little problem poking your ass, but Satoru was still keeping a lookout for the people you guys needed. And he found a guy staring at you guys long enough to be assured that he was the guy who could get you two in.

“Follow my lead.” “No way. I am the one in charge here.” Satoru did not waste time fighting you. He dragged you to the nearest booth, closest to the guy, sat you both down and practically jumped you, to lay you down on the seat. His lips ended up on yours, While he pushed you further into the cushion of the seat, going all in, with his tongue. Making sure to explore every crevice of your mouth, with some teeth and all.

He was amateur and inexperienced. And it showed, but that did not shadow the fact that he was pretty good for someone who is basically a digimon frantic loser, chasing down Geto in the halls, almost daily, to show him his new shiny cards.

“Hey guys.” The guy who was looking at you guys for a while came up to you, but his first greeting went unheard to both of your ears. At least to Satoru’s ears it did, but you made sure to not answer him on the first greeting. After his third hey, you pinched Satoru on his nape to snap him out of the make out session he has found himself engrossed in. Luckily the guy, desperate at this point, shouts a greeting loud enough for the booths on either side to hear.

“HELLO!” “Damn dude. Chill, you need something important enough to distract me from my girl?” The way Satoru replied to him so nonchalantly, while picking you up from your spot and sitting you down on his knees, as he sat up himself, made you dizzy in the head. Or maybe it was because you sat up too quickly. Sure, let's say that is the reason.

“You guys wanna get somewhere private? I work for this place and we are particularly accommodating to couples.”

You did not say anything in reply, you left it to Satoru, out of trust? Who knows. But this was again, very unusual of you.

Upon agreement the guy led you two to the private room. He took you to the second floor of the club, then a very well hidden tucked away hallway. After walking down that hallway, it led to a singular door at the very end, which required a password from the guy who led you there, to open it. The guy whispered the password to some guy on the otherwise who unlocked the door from the inside.That was the last you saw that guy before walking into the room, holding Satoru's hand.

Honestly the environment was way off. You've done missions involving large scale parties, galas, and went there by foraging identities. But this was no charity ball. It was littered with groups of people and couples mostly of your age, all over these couches, chairs, and even tables in the middle of this huge room, making out or doing more. Which were surrounded by booths similar to the ones you saw in the actual club. And there were only men, who looked rich enough to buy out this entire place, in those booths. Surrounded by women and lines of substances in front of them, with the smell of alcohol lingering everywhere.

This place was full of trouble. One slip and you can not only lose your life, but maybe worse.

“Are you ok?” Satoru leaned down a bit to whisper in your ear, completely ignoring the guy ahead of you two, who opened and closed the door. Unable to muster any sound out of your throat, you just nodded a yes at him, and went on to look for Hashimoto. This was not the time to get nervous, especially not when you have a rookie with you.

Hashimoto was in a booth at the very corner tucked away from everyone's sight. The only way to get a peek at him, meant getting a seat at the couch adjacent to his booth. Which was fortunately empty for Satoru to drag you there.

“Do you know what you are doing?” He plopped down on the couch, manspreading enough to take up at least three people’s space. 

“Trust me, ok angel?” He reassured you as he pulled you down on his lap, making you straddle him, which made you effectively face him—with a pretty clear view of Hashimoto’s table.

“Now I am an angel?” Your eyes flickered back to him, making sure to look as nonchalant as you could have, while adjusting your hands around his neck. Making sure the bracelet on your wrist had the perfect view of the table you wanted to take pictures of. 

Meanwhile Satoru got to work with his mouth, making it more productive than running his mouth. With one pull on your waist, you were practically sticking to him, while his mouth roamed from the base of your neck, shoulders to the column of your throat. “Why? Deem yourself devil incarnate?” The smirk on his face, that you felt stretching on your skin, was followed by a nibble and bite.

It was no easy job to take those pictures when Satoru made it his own personal mission to make you squirm and helped you grind on him. His mouth was capable of greatness, that is the conclusion you came to as his tongue and lips gilded all over your exposed skin. From your face, to chin, jaw and lower. Making sure to avoid your lips at any cost, even with you trying to subtly get a kiss out of him. His right hand remained fixed on your waist, pressing down on it from time to time. The other hand was busy and full with your tits. Slightly pulling down on your top to make them spill out just enough for him to slobber all over them. The cold metal rim of his shades was such a contrast to his warm tongue. You had no idea how it was still on him. But it is not like he had any other option. It needed to record everything.

Well maybe not the part that was going on in between you two. Oh well, he is going to edit the footage later anyway. Not that you were thrilled about that. 

Such thoughts were of concern for later. Because how is this loser who was crying about being a virgin just a few days ago, absolutely smashed from one drink. And was practically melting under your touch in a random alleyway—transformed into this suave and slick guy.

“Are you making sure to take good enough pictures? Hmm, angel?”

No. No, you were not. You were basically shaking already and all this guy did was feel you up a bit and did not even kiss you yet.

As if right on que, he kissed you. And this time it was less teeth, there were still teeth. Just that this time he was using his teeth for better use, by using them to pull on your lips just enough to make you open your mouth to only shove his tongue up against your tongue. And his left hand slipped under your top, his fingers were sweaty and clammy. And somehow that felt good on your skin, as it felt as if it was burning. It also reminded you that this js still the Gojo Satoru you knew, the little nervous and awkward guy he has always been.

And when his right hand came down to move from grabbing your waist, to groping your ass, to then land a slap loud enough to echo in the room—a moan slipped out of you. It was not the kind to disintegrate into his lips, because even Satoru stopped feverishly kissing you, to stare at you for a second. 

He was caught completely off guard, but that did not mean he had the time to register that, he could not make it seem this was the first time he heard you moan. Scratch the fact he is a virgin, he has spent practically every night listening to women scream and moan on at least one of his devices. But this was you. He has recorded you chugging down a water bottle after training, to then later get off to that very innocent clip. So the blush creeping up all over his face was nothing compared to how red he usually becomes while jerking off to thoughts and videos and pictures of you, which he took with his professional grade cameras. He was way too excited to go through the footage from the camera recorder on his shades, not because he is an exemplary officer of the law, who wanted to put these criminals in front of the judiciary with incriminating proof. But because he was going to get the most golden piece of jerk off material to add onto his stash. Thank goodness he was wearing these shades, because you would have definitely deciphered what a guilty little creep he was. 

“Guess we are putting on a show huh?” A smirk rolled around the corners of his lips, while you rested your forehead on his shoulder to ground yourself and take pictures of Hashimoto, who was now looking directly at you.

“Shut up. I got the shots.” “Aw, good girl.” You did not have a reply to really retort his statement. 

“Keep ‘em safe for me ok?” Satoru slid his shades off his eyes and put them on your eyes, revealing eyes which could devour you whole. The whole room was practically staring at you at this point, but no looks were even half as consuming as those blue ones. “Gotta get everything right?”

One second you are readjusting yourself to get the best angle of Hashimoto, and then you are thrashing forward in Satoru’s arms, as he slides his index finger inside you, all in one go. You had no idea when he pushed your underwear to the side or when did his hand even go under your skirt. Maybe you were too occupied with the mission, or just that his other hand which was tugging on your nipples, was just too much in itself. 

“Oh my god, you are sooo wet.” If he was not so enamored by you and your cunt, he would have done something about all the men ogling you, trying to catch a glimpse of your pretty pussy as he slowly moved it around to feel you all up from inside. To see the source of those gushing, squelching noises, and those deafening and lethal moans. He wanted all these people in this room, dead.

“N-no. wait.” You felt a second finger trying to enter you, and you were basically gone. Thank goodness these shades did not need to be manually operated. 

“Ah well, made them look and made you stutter. Must be doing something right. Right, baby?”

You had nothing in you to answer him. You were too busy putting on a show. Trying your best to keep your head steady on his shoulder to get the best angel of the guy across you. And while you were fighting for your life, Satoru was having the time of his life. Sliding in a third finger, his eyes stayed trained in the barely existent gap between you two, to get a glimpse or two of his own fingers going in and out of you at a pace too animalistic, even if his arm was getting in the way—he was satisfied with the here and there peaks at your folds swallowing his fingers in. It was all puffy and slick with your own cum, and it felt like the most precious juicy fruit was in his grasp. 

“So perfect. It’s like you want to break my fingers, angel.”

“I am-”

“Me too baby. Come for me, won’t you do me that favor hmm? Take all my firsts. Please.” A single miserable plea was enough to have you throw your head back, digging your nails in his neck to the point of breaking his skin, you came all over his fingers and pants—never in your life have you had a man make you cum this hard with his fingers alone. And it was an amateur loser on top of that. 

“Done?” He asked while pulling you down on his shoulders once again. He took the shades off you, and patted the back of your head as you twitched in his arms, still high and limp. “D-done.”

“Let’s get out of here then.”

Which is easier said than done. Especially when these men have had the show of their lives, they wanted a taste as well. Just as Satoru moved you in his arms to get you out of there, the guy with the keys to the door came up to you guys.

“Excuse me, but we need you to leave.”

“We are doing exactly that.” Satoru said, with a grin wide and sarcastic enough to piss the guy off. “I meant just you. Leave the girl. One of our patrons has asked for her.” You were sure this was Hashimoto’s request. No one in this room is powerful enough to wield such exclusive amenities. 

“Well. Now that I can't do, you know? She’s my girl afterall. ” You were hiding your face in his chest, getting ready to pull out the knife hidden in your boots, but the way Satoru said ‘my girl’ for the second time tonight—maybe you feel a few butterflies in your stomach. Or maybe it was the orgasm. 

“Leave her here, and fuck off with some cash in your pocket or we can get rid of you easily.” It took Satoru no more than a second to lift you up in his arms, as he kicked the guy hard enough to fall face first on the floor. Before any of the other staff could get to you two, you jumped out of his arms, to get the keys off that guy’s keyholder dangling on his waist. You grabbed onto Satoru’s hands to run for the door, just as you opened the door, Satoru took out the little smoke bomb hidden away in his belt. 

“Disperse. I will go that way, you go the opposite. Jump down the window I showed you. Regroup in the car. Ok?” You explained your best to Satoru as you ran down to the crowded dance floor to catch a bit more time.

“Ok!” You both nodded at each other before heading your respective ways. But before you could leave, He grabbed onto your wrist and pulled you close to him to lean down enough to whisper in your ears, loud enough for you to hear in the sea of people and deafening music. 

“Be safe.” You could not see his face, but you could still discern the concern in his voice. And maybe something more.

“You better see me in one piece.” You warned him in return before you two ran in opposite directions.

“Ah. If it is not the dream team!” Your boss exclaimed with joy as you two walked in his office.

It has been two days since the mission. Thankfully you two made it to the getaway car just fine that day. But neither of you said anything the entire car ride as you two got driven down to the base. The next two days you did not see Satoru. You assumed he was too busy editing all the evidence and compiling them. He had more on his plate now, than he was already tasked with before. You did reach out to him to offer help. But he just turned you down with maximum of one worded replies. 

“Everything came out fine, right?” Satoru asked as he walked two steps away from you. “Oh yes! Do not worry about it. Our team already seized the place yesterday.”

When you came out of the boss’s chamber, Satoru seemed in a hurry. Rushing as fast as he could, away from you. I mean, it was all for the mission, right? Now that it is over, who even is he to you but some loser who is eerily obsessed with you. Not that you know that. Or maybe you do. Maybe you already know how big of a loser he actually is. 

“Trying to run now?” “I don’t know what you mean.” You had to pull Satoru in the closest storage room to corner him. Because why was he being all weird now? 

“Sure you do, you-” When you turned the light on, his entire neck and both his ears were beet red. His eyes were looking glossy and not because of his high prescription usual spectacles. And when you got closer to him, you could feel him—warm and stiff in his pants.

“Are you seriously hard right now?” He looked away from you, like he did not dirty talk in your ears and made you cum in front of a room full of dangerous people, just the other day. 

“Can you blame me?” When he finally looked into your eyes, you could not help but break into a smile. Somehow you got wrapped around this loser’s fingers, literally.

“Remember how you asked me to take all your firsts?” He started getting more red as he nodded a weak yes.

“Meet me at my place after work.” You got on your tippy toes to kiss him, and pulled on his lips with your teeth, similarly as he did. You grabbed onto the collar of his button up shirt, to drag him down to your face. And when his shaky hands moved up to hold onto your waist, after he barely came down from the initial surprise, you shoved him off you. And he went stumbling into the boxes piled up behind him.

And with that you left the poor guy to tend to the giant mess he made in his pants, and a card in his palm, that had your personal number and address on it. The card also said something else in your handwriting, that almost gave him a nosebleed. 

‘Your girl, loser.’

TO FIND MORE OF MY WORKS CLICK HERE.

a/n: divider by @/enchanthings-a and @/omi-resources, pics in header by @/3-aem on (Tumblr and twt) and from Pinterest.

hope after a few here and there drabbles i did justice to Nerdjo. he has been rotting my brain for months. definitely wanted to write something for him and inspiration just came idkkkk how I came up with the whole goverment employed spy stuff. i think i like thinking up this sort of spy and work dynamics and i wanted to write Nerdjo out of academic setting, there are far more superior works about that, I have done enough in academics. just something obscure enough to not only be work place romance but also a bit of a shitty action thriller? so ig you can say this is also spy Gojo. but not really, he is just a weirdo who is definitely not lowkey obsessed with you that is all. put him on field by himself and he is shitting himself.

hope you had fun reading! and enjoyed your stay on my humble humble two cents about nerdjo in the sea of amazing nerdjos. please do lmk your thoughts in the comments and feel free to reach out to me in my ask box.

clan leader Gojo i am so sorry i am getting right back to completing you!

tag list: @cheralith @madamechrissy @gojosperms @naomigojo @naomi-main @cuntphoric @nanamiskentos @cuntyji @cuntphoric @aishi-toru @fushitoru @rriwyu @exquisink @lover-lyn @buckysm @wwwritererm @indiewritesxoxo @moonchhu @shouiow @user25384959574 @dxmnsaera @kazupop @slayzzz @undercvrfan444 @miizuzu @getoistic @infinitatis-ink @theorphicangel @ricecake-mochi

The songs you grow to like never stick at first

Falling for your best friend is a blessing and a curse at the same time, especially when it's painfully obvious that your friend doesn't feel the same. So what is Yuuji supposed to do? He doesn't want to lose you but also can't help wanting to get out of the friendzone. Maybe his other friends can help him. Or he just has to wait because sometimes the songs that become our all-time favorites are the ones that don't stick at first.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, fluff, my attempt at humor, friends to lovers Playlist: College AU Word Count: 4.6 k Warnings: A lot of cheesiness, pining, unrequited love in the beginning, slow burn. Yuuji has smutty fantasies, so it's 18+. Smut in later chapters. All characters are of age. The story and my blog contain 18+ content, so minors don't interact.

This is my entry for the Fall Out Boy collab. My prompt is from the song Dead on Arrival:

The songs you grow to like never stick at first. So, I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse

I got very inspired, and so this turned into a multi-chaptered fic. I'm planning to post a new chapter every week! Here is an overview of the chapters you can expect:

Chapter 1: This is side one, flip me over. I know I'm not your favorite record. Chapter 2: The songs you grow to like never stick at first. So, I'm writing you a chorus, and here is your verse. Chapter 3: This conversation's still dead on arrival. And there's no way to talk to you. Chapter 4: A rivalry goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep over you (Part 1) Chapter 5: A rivalry goes so deep between me and this loss of sleep over you (Part 2) Chapter 6: Hope this is the last time, 'cause I'd never say no to you

Chapter 1

This is side one, flip me over. I know I'm not your favorite record.

Yuuji can't say when it started exactly. There isn't one big moment that changed everything. It happened gradually, sneaked up on him until he was in too deep. You have been best friends for almost three years now. Ever since Yuuji started college and got paired with you for a group project. You were both new to the city, and it was nice to have someone to meet up with and discover the busy streets with. Soon the two of you were inseparable. Of course, people kept commenting on how close you were. Raised eyebrows, knowing smiles, cheeky winks. But they all got it wrong. You were just friends!

At least, that's what Yuuji had been telling himself all this time. Until now. Maybe everyone else was right after all. They saw it sooner than Yuuji did. But they only got half of it right. Because this is strictly one-sided. Only one of you fell in love. And that idiot is Yuuji.

Being in love with your best friend is a blessing and a curse at the same time. A blessing because you know the other person loves you too. Not in a romantic way. But still. They don't hate you. They want you in their life and care about you. And you spend lots of time with them. You are allowed to touch them, hug them, ruffle their hair, shove them playfully, kiss them on the cheek for a greeting. You can do sleepovers and share clothes, go out together. It's nice and warm and feels like home. It is home.

But it's also a curse. No, it's mostly a curse. Because all of those things are suddenly not enough anymore. It's like a meal with all the best ingredients, but there's one little spice missing, and without it, the whole meal doesn't taste quite right.

Yuuji feels guilty about it. He appreciates your friendship beyond anything else. He doesn't want to be one of those guys who complain about being friend-zoned. He likes being friends with you! But he can't stop his heart from aching for more.

It's not like he didn't try to suppress those feelings when he first became aware of them. He probably looked like an idiot when you rested your head on his shoulder one day during lunch, something you'd done lots of times before, but, all of a sudden, there had been a weird feeling in his stomach. So Yuuji drained a whole bottle of ice-cold water because he thought the butterflies in his stomach would stop fluttering so much if he just put enough cold water on them.

And he definitely made a fool out of himself when he tripped over a bag because he was busy trying to count the clouds so he would distract himself from the feeling of your warm weight on his lap five minutes ago when there hadn't been a spare seat left on the park bench.

So yes, Yuuji tried to fight it, but nothing worked.

And that leaves him there he is now. He just has to accept it: he's hopelessly in love with his best friend. His best friend who doesn't want him that way.

But Yuuji will be damned if he lets this affect your friendship! He loves you, as a friend and as more. So he will make sure you are happy. He will be there for you and take care of you. Do anything a best friend does.

Currently, he's strolling towards where you are leaning against the wall in front of the economics lecture hall. The big boyish grin on his face gets even wider when you catch sight of him. Yuuji stops in front of you and shoves a cup of iced coffee into your hand. Two shots of vanilla syrup, one teaspoon of sugar, oat milk. He knows every order of yours by heart. This is your favorite, so he always gets you this when he stops at the coffee shop before classes.

"Good morning!"

"Ooh, thanks, Yuu! You're an angel. I wouldn't know how to get through my economics course with Mr. Nanami without this. That man is so exhausting!"

"Shut up. I think he's nice!"

Yuuji elbows you playfully, which you return by ruffling his hair, making him lean into the touch like a puppy eager for affection. You pull your hand away too soon and chuckle lightly.

"He is! And hot! But he's so...serious all the time."

Yuuji pulls a face. He knows it's stupid, but somehow it stings that you so openly announce your professor is hot in your opinion, but you never once said anything close to that about Yuuji. Sure, you call Yuuji cute sometimes, but hot? Never.

Five minutes later, the two of you part ways so you can attend your course with hot Mr. Nanami, and Yuuji can head down the hallway towards his film analysis course.

But before he walks into the classroom, he takes a detour to the bathroom just to stand in front of the sink and stare critically at his reflection in the mirror.

Why do you think your professor is hot, but Yuuji isn't? Is it his pink hair? Do you think it's childish that he dyes his hair in pastel colors? Or is he not tall enough? Mr. Nanami is really tall. But on the other hand, Yuuji is tall too, right? He sighs and frowns at his reflection. What is he lacking?

Mr. Nanami has really broad shoulders. He looks like he's working out. So is Yuuji, though! But maybe he's not as fit as you like? He grabs the hem of his yellow hoodie and lifts it to inspect his exposed upper body in the mirror. Yuuji actually gets a lot of compliments from his gym bros for his immaculate biceps. And Fushiguro told him just yesterday that he would kill for pecs like Yuuji has. So this can't be the problem, right?

Just to be sure, he flexes his muscles, watches the way they become even more accentuated before putting a hand on his abs and tracing the taut muscles with his fingers. What would you think if this were your fingers? Would you like the way Yuuji's muscles feel beneath your fingertips? He closes his eyes, tries to imagine how it would be for you. Feels nice...

He jumps when the door opens and turns around to see Junpei stopping in his tracks, hand still on the door handle, staring at Yuuji with big eyes.

"Um.. good morning, Yuuji?"

Yuuji stares back at him with a matching shocked expression, quickly letting the hem of his hoodie drop, covering himself up again.

"Shit! Um..I...um..hey Junpei. I was...I am...I'll just leave! See you in class! Can't wait to hear your thoughts about the movie!"

He grabs his backpack hurriedly, rushing past his friend with a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

Great, just great! He absolutely had to make a fool of himself, right? Maybe that's part of the problem, he realizes. He's the type of guy who's good for a laugh but not the type to date. No wonder you don't want him!

But how can he change that? How can he become someone you look at and think, "Woahh, I want him to be mine!"?

He's still deep in thought when he enters his classroom and plops down on the chair next to Fushiguro's, sighing deeply and slamming his battered backpack onto the table, which earns him a glare from his friend.

Yuuji smiles apologetically and shrugs,

"Sorry, miscalculated my strength, I guess."

Fushiguro just fixes him with one of his stern, deep gazes that always unsettle Yuuji because it feels like his friend can see right into his brain. And sure as hell, the dark-haired boy leans a bit closer and lowers his voice to a confidential tone:

"Are you ok? Did someone upset you?"

"Aww, no, it's ok!"

He grins brightly and scratches his hair, but Fushiguro's gaze still bores into him unrelentingly, and of course, Junpei chooses that moment to sit down behind them and doesn't hesitate to inform Fushiguro:

"He was standing in front of the bathroom mirror checking himself out. Shirtless."

Fushiguro's eyebrows almost disappear in his hair. And Yuuji feels the need to explain.

"Hey, I wasn't shirtless! And I just did a little once-over. On my looks..."

Both of his friends still stare at him as if he's crazy, and so he adds:

"Guys, do you think I'm hot?"

The response is immediate.

"Where is that coming from, Itadori? But yeah, you are."

"Absolutely, Yuuji! You look gorgeous!"

The praise makes him relax for a moment before his face scrunches up in worry again.

"But I mean...can you even judge that? Maybe I should ask a girl? I'll text Nobara!"

He's already pulling his phone out of the back pocket of his jeans, ready to send an embarrassing text, but is stopped by Fushiguro's hand on his arm.

"Don't make a fool of yourself. Also, I am literally pansexual. I like men too, so I'm a good judge. You don't need a second opinion on this. Get a grip, Itadori, seriously! I didn't have enough coffee for this kind of shit."

Yuuji looks at him and nods, setting the phone down on the table,

"Yeah, ok, right! Thank you! You too, Junpei!"

Junpei smiles happily at him while Fushiguro sighs exasperatedly and rubs his temples as if he has a headache. But Yuuji feels a bit better. He has to trust his friends. Maybe he just needs to be a bit more self-aware and confident in himself. It will be ok!

His enthusiasm gradually fades again during the film analysis course, though. By the end of the lecture, he's almost gnawed through his pencil, and before his friends can escape, he asks in a miserable voice:

"What can I do to be more dateable?"

Junpei is quick to pat Yuuji's back,

"You already are dateable! Did you forget about all the girls who constantly ask you for your phone number no matter where I go with you? You just never text them back, but I think they'd all be very willing to date you!"

Yuuji blinks at him in honest confusion.

"Wait a moment...you think they would go on dates with me? I thought they just wanted my number for the movie discussions, or that one girl yesterday was just interested in where I got my shirt from. Junpei, I think you got it wrong."

He gets interrupted by a pained groan coming from Fushiguro.

"Just stop! You are hot. You are dateable. Why can't you just get it into that thick head of yours? I'm so done."

"Oi, bro!"

Yuuji smacks his arm but then looks at him with a thoughtful expression.

"Ok, thanks. But like, for real. Am I someone who people meet and think, wow, I want him!? Like, as in rip my clothes off and break a bed? Am I just the nice guy, or the sexy one?"

Junpei makes a squealing noise, and Yuuji wonders why his face is so red. Maybe he shouldn't drink that much coke. Fushiguro, on the other hand, is glaring at him, looking as if he's seconds away from punching Yuuji.

His voice is calm and controlled though when he answers, but it's clear that it takes everything in him to stay so cool:

"I have to go to my literature class now. But you are a fucking catch, man. You're a good guy, ok? That's what's most important anyway. You don't have to change."

"But.. but..."

Before Yuuji can finish, Fushiguro is already gone, practically fleeing from the classroom. He's already halfway out the door when Yuuji yells after him:

"But would you FUCK me, Fushiguro??? Answer me!!!"

Yuuji doesn't even hear the snickers and roars which start around him because his attention zooms in on the doorway, where you are standing, peeking into the classroom and looking at him with a curious and amused expression on your face.

Oh god, no! He wants the floor to swallow him. Your timing is really the worst. He slings his backpack over one shoulder and strides towards you, hoping that he isn't blushing.

But you just laugh when he catches up to you, and Yuuji forgets about feeling embarrassed when you wrap your hand around his arm and fall in step next to him, perfectly in sync, because the two of you are practically attached at the hips anyway. Your head rests against his shoulder, the scent of your perfume and hairspray making his heart twist.

"Hey, do you want to go shopping with me this afternoon? I need a strong guy like you to carry all my shopping bags."

"Count me in. I'm a professional shopping bag carrier!"

Your lighthearted laughter and the way your fingers tighten around his biceps send butterflies flying in Yuuji's stomach.

It's during the shopping trip when the two of you are taking a short break and sit in a coffee shop slurping iced coffee when you grin cheekily at Yuuji and finally ask:

"So what was that earlier, when you yelled after Fushiguro if he would fuck you? Is there something going on between you?"

Yuuji almost chokes on his drink, coughing and messing up his hoodie as some of the drink he had in his mouth spills out over his chin. He taps his fist against his chest and splutters:

"That was nothing! We were just being stupid."

"Oh really?" You raise an eyebrow and lean closer conspiratorially with a devilish gleam in your eyes. Gossip mode activated, apparently. "Or is it that someone's desperate for some action? So you're planning to get laid at the party this weekend?"

"What? No!!"

"Why are you so sensitive about it? Come on, Yuu, it's ok to admit you are horny!"

He is trying so hard to fight his blush. But there's a pounding in his ears, and his breath is coming out in short gasps. To hear you say the word "fuck" and talking about Yuuji getting laid is too much for him. He has to dig his nails into his knees to stop his body from reacting in a totally inappropriate way.

But you aren't finished yet. You bump Yuuji's side with your elbow and chuckle good-naturedly before adding:

"Now that I think about it, you've been a bit on edge lately. Maybe you should really take someone home. Would be good for you. Why did you stop doing that anyway? I haven't heard you talking about your bedroom adventures in what seems forever."

He wants to die. It's true. Right after starting college, he was rather active in the sex department. He wouldn't call it sleeping around, but he had maybe three or four encounters that ended in the bedroom, a swimming pool, or on a bathroom floor. And of course, he told you all about it! You are his best friend!

But that was before! Now he is in love! In love with you! How could he fuck someone else?? He couldn't do that! And he doesn't even want to! He doesn't want anyone else, only you!

Inwardly he's screaming but tries to shrug it off and grins and shoves you playfully too.

"Oh, shut up. I just don't want to fool around with strangers at the moment."

"Just not with strangers? What about people you know, huh?"

"Are you volunteering?"

His eyes widen when he realizes what he said in the heat of the moment. He hopes you will just see it as part of your usual banter. But a small part of him wants you to take it for what it really is. At least the secret would be out then. And in an ideal world, you would smile and put a hand on his thigh while you lean closer and whisper in Yuuji's ear that you've wanted him for a long time too.

But unfortunately, this isn't the pastel pink world of a rom-com. And instead of a love confession, you snort and burst out laughing loudly as if Yuuji made the best joke ever. Your hand does indeed land on his thigh, but only to slap it as you shake with laughter.

"You're so funny, Yuu! That's why you're my best friend! We can talk such dumb stuff and laugh so much with each other!"

Yuuji's heart clenches painfully at your words. Not for the first time, he wishes he could flip himself over like a mixtape because maybe side two would have what side one lacks. Maybe you would see side two as someone who can be more than a friend. Someone who would be able to make you get flustered when he makes a suggestive comment. Maybe the Yuuji on side two would be someone you desire and would like to take to your own bed and have him over and over again every night for the rest of your life.

It hurts knowing that this isn't going to happen. But Yuuji tries his best to act like everything's fine and joins in on your laughter.

You finish your drinks and the cupcakes before proceeding with your little shopping trip.

This basically means that Yuuji spends most of the time sitting on chairs and benches waiting for you to come out of the changing booth to present to him several shirts and jeans and some dresses.

The tight-fitting jeans and the short dresses are particularly bad for his mental stability. Your ass looks too juicy in those jeans, and why do you have to turn your back to him and wiggle your ass in front of his face? It's too much. Yuuji's hand finds the collar of his hoodie unconsciously and stretches it to get a bit of air.

His mind runs crazy about what he would like to do to you. How good it would feel to slip his hands into the back pockets of those tight jeans, pull you against him, and kiss you while his hands knead your cute ass.

Or how sexy it would be to let you sit on his lap while you're wearing one of those short dresses. His mind short-circuits at the thought of feeling the warmth of your naked thighs seeping through his sweatpants, letting his hands slip under that dress and explore what's waiting for him there. Feel your heat through your cute panties before he pulls them to the side to caress you where he wants to the most, feeling you get wet for him, grinding eagerly against his fingers, coating them in your arousal, moaning his name needily, wanting him...

Fuck.

Yuuji squints his eyes shut for a moment as if that could get rid of the imaginary pictures running through his mind. He hopes he can distract himself before this becomes a bigger problem, literally. He shifts around uncomfortably on the pink plush couch he's currently sitting on, silently begging his dick to please be nice and not do anything embarrassing. He curses himself for his poor fashion choices because the grey sweatpants he's changed into for the shopping spree do nothing to hide his growing boner.

"Earth to Yuuji! Did you hear a single word I said?"

He looks at you with big startled eyes, hastily putting his hands in his lap, hoping that you won't see that he is half-hard.

"What?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest and roll your eyes.

"I guess I took too long trying on clothes. You're already zoning out. I said I'd either take the yellow dress or the pink shirt with the black print. What do you think?"

"The dress!"

Maybe his answer was a bit too enthusiastic because you burst out laughing, but you look so pleased, so Yuuji doesn't have it in him to feel bad about it. Instead, he spends the next minutes making a mental list of the worst movies he's ever seen to distract himself from his dirty thoughts and will the problem in his pants away, so he'll be able to get up from this fucking pink couch and carry your shopping bags.

The next thing on your list is makeup and Yuuji tags along, happily carrying your shopping bags now that he feels normal again, and voicing his opinion anytime you ask for it.

He actually enjoys your shopping trips. It's nice to spend time with you, and he likes the feeling of pleasing you and being needed by you, even if that just means that he's your personal bag carrier and advice giver. That's an excellent job in his eyes. He gets paid in warm smiles and happy laughter, and he can't see anything wrong with that.

And luckily, you are so busy searching the stores for things you like that you stop pestering Yuuji about finding someone for him to get laid.

He's following you through long pastel-colored aisles lined by mirrors and bright lights. Stops to swoon over different nail polish shades with you and even lets you paint his nails at one of those tester things. Anything to see that happy smile on your face!

You look so cute when you stick the tip of your tongue out in concentration while applying the nail polish. Yuuji can't stop looking at you.

Two girls are passing by, and Yuuji overhears them talking about how they wish they had a boyfriend who went shopping with them too.

Yuuji smiles at them gratefully. Hearing someone call him your boyfriend makes his heart beat faster. It's a bittersweet sensation, though, since you aren't really dating, and Yuuji will probably never be your boyfriend for real. But the fact that they saw the two of you and assumed you are a couple makes him feel exhilarated.

You don't bother correcting them, or maybe you didn't hear. But you laugh and admire Yuuji's black nails.

"Just like your brother. You should send him a picture!"

Yuuji joins in on your laughter and really snaps a picture that he sends to Sukuna, his edgy big brother who has too many tattoos and is never seen without black nail polish. Come to think of it, though, he never complains about pining for someone he can't have. Usually, Sukuna is the one who gets chased by everyone.

Yuuji blinks at his phone. Maybe he should try to be a bit more like his brother. Does he have to change his style? Should he get a tattoo? Or is it the rude arrogance that makes Sukuna so attractive to everyone? Yuuji doesn't think he's capable of being rude.

His phone beeps with a new message and Yuuji looks down to see his lovely big brother replied to the picture:

"Aww, is my wittle baby brother trying to be a bad boy now? You are so pathetic, brat."

"Fuck you."

Yuuji shoves his phone angrily back into his pocket while looking for you and sees you standing in front of a display of a limited lipgloss launch.

"What do you think, Yuu? Cherry or strawberry?"

The innocent question makes his head spin because now he's imagining kissing your glossed lips to get a taste of the different fruit flavors. Why does everything have to be so fucking complicated because of how much he likes you!?

"Take strawberry. Or both. I have money left. I could buy one for you if you want both."

That's technically not true. Money is always sparse, especially towards the end of the month. But for you, Yuuji would give his last penny.

You smile at him, and your hand lands on his arm, squeezing it lightly.

"Trying to become my sugar daddy? Nah, for real, that's really nice, I appreciate it, but I won't let you spend your lunch money on an overpriced lipgloss. I'll just take the strawberry one, and that's enough."

You grab the light-pink tube of lipgloss and head towards the checkout as Yuuji quickly takes the cherry-flavored lipgloss once your back is turned. He will give it to you for your birthday. He smiles to himself, thinking about the look of surprise and the happy glint in your eyes you'll have when you get his gift. He makes sure to go to the checkout furthest away from yours, so you won't see what he's buying, making sure to grab some hair wax on his way, so he has an excuse for what took so long.

Once he catches up to you in front of the store, you smile brightly at him and point at your lips:

"Look! I love the color! And it tastes nice."

Yuuji's eyes widen as he is forced to look at your lips. Oh god. They look so delicious, wet and juicy, glistening from the thin layer of lipgloss, and he can smell the strawberry flavor from here. He wants to kiss you so bad. Close the distance between you, press his lips against yours and kiss the lipgloss off them. Trace your sweet lips with his tongue, sucking on them, licking all the sticky strawberry flavor off them, and letting it fill his mouth.

He hopes his voice doesn't sound too strangled when he answers you:

"It looks pretty!"

He isn't able to tear his gaze away from your lips. But he'll make such a fool of himself if he doesn't stop! He gulps hard and shoves his hands deep into the front pocket of his yellow hoodie to keep himself from reaching out to you.

But you take a step closer to him now with a wide grin on your face.

"Thank you for being my shopping companion! I can always rely on you for these things."

You lean closer until you can press a quick kiss on Yuuji's cheek.

This shouldn't be a big thing, because this is your usual way of greeting or saying goodbye. But lately, it makes Yuuji's heart skip a beat anytime you do it. And right now, you are wearing that damn lipgloss, and the smell of strawberries is overwhelming and turns Yuuji into a complete mess.

His self-control is gone, and before he can stop himself, his arms encircle your waist, hands sprawled over the small of your back possessively as he kisses your cheek too.

He is aware that the kiss lasts too long, his lips pressing against your soft skin tenderly, eyes closed and breathing in your scent deeply as he savors the little moment where he has you in his arms, where he can pretend for a little while that you are his, that you are more than friends.

But of course, the moment is over too soon, and he has to let his arms drop to the side again, letting go of you before it becomes awkward and he gives himself away. You are still smiling at him, and Yuuji answers your smile with one of his own while his heart is hammering in his chest and his fingertips tingle with the urge to touch you again.

Yes, being in love with your best friend while they don't love you back is really a curse.

The two of you make your way home. Yuuji insists on carrying all your shopping bags for you, making you laugh and tell him he's such a gentleman. And once again, the annoying butterflies are back in his stomach.

Your lipgloss left a sticky stain on Yuuji's cheek, but he doesn't wipe it off all the way home. Even lets it stay there during dinner and only reluctantly lets the warm water wash it off when he's taking a shower before bed. He's got it bad, and he knows it.

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you had as much fun reading this as I had writing it! When I saw a Fall Out Boy collab, I HAD to join because I really love their songs and lyrics, and I knew it would be super fun to think of a story that fits the overall feeling I get from listening to their music. I hope you enjoyed Yuuji's college adventures and his pining. There will be more soon! In chapter 2, Yuuji tries to flirt and ask Reader on a date. Let's see how that will go! I would be super happy if you left some comments and reblogged this story! Let me know how you like it so far! Thank you!

The amazing @brautschnitzel made some super hot fanart of Yuuji in his grey sweatpants 😍 Thank youuu! I love it so much!

Tag-list: @babe-im-bi @peach-memoirs @yuujiskitten @christalcake

@eva-gates @lawfulrhi @manjiken @brautschnitzel @cyancherub

@ambrodias

If you enjoyed reading this, here's chapter 2

gojo reminds me of 2010 justin bieber

they’re literally the same person HELP

PAPA!SUKUNA is his kids' very own jungle gym.

it is undeniable that your husband is built like a tank and towers over everyone he comes across. even before kids, he'd been able to carry you like you weighed nothing. an absolute unit of a man, if you will.

he's very gentle with his kids when he needs to be. being a big guy, he's prone to breaking things under the slightest bit of pressure. but with his two little brats, it's like his touches become feather light.

they get the adventurous edge from him, too. your little boy is always running around to places a child should not be, and your little girl is always grabbing at things. with those two behaviors combined, it's no wonder they took one look at their father and deemed him a perfect playground.

you'd come home to find sukuna standing completely still in the middle of the living room, arms outstretched as the little goobers hang onto his biceps for dear life and treating them like monkey bars. and when he's sitting, you best believe they'd be resting on top of his shoulders.

it gets a lot of positive attention from passers-by, which sukuna revels in. he only gets a little ticked off when an older man he strikes up a chat with shoots a concerned gaze at his little girl clinging onto sukuna's leg like a koala.

"a-are you sure she's not distracting-"

"no."

"your son is quite literally trying to stand on the top of your head-"

"so?"

"does your wife know about this?"

"none o' your business."