#foryuiwill writes!

Gojo’s the type to make you believe you’re the one with the striking, crystalline blue eyes the way he yearns for your gaze.

When you’re the last to wake up, the first thing you’ll see is him staring at you with his head propped up by his arm against the pillow, almost as if seeing your eyes gives him permission to move. He can’t even hide the full smile somewhat covered by his hand.

“It’s not good to stare,” you tease groggily.

“I can’t help it,” he responds swiftly, resting his head back down on the pillow, eyes still on yours. “The morning doesn’t feel right until I see you.”

If you’re simply reading a book on your sofa, or watching another episode from another selection of your binging conquests, he leaves a trail of kisses up your arm, just waiting for you unlock your gaze and channel it in his direction.

“Need something, Toru?” You ask, a chuckle seeping through your curiosity. Your eyes remain on the flashing screen.

“I just—need to—leave—my baby—a few—kisses,” he spoke in between each peck against your skin.

“And I love that. But what do you really need?” You ask once more, eyes still fixed on the television.

He pauses. You almost turn to him at the sudden lack of pecks across your skin, but you refuse to give in just yet.

“I need you to look at me,” he finally admits softly, almost pitifully.

And just like that, you turn your attention to your crybaby boyfriend, who has his chin resting up against your arm with his bottom lip pulled out.

“For someone who says I’m the spoiled one, you sure do get whatever you want all the time,” you jeer.

But he doesn’t respond to you. He just stares into your eyes.

“Satoru?”

You could feel the hairs on your arm raise when you see the sparkle in his eyes. His orbs wide, just looking up into yours, as if he’s studying every detail there is to offer in your pupils. He looks as if time has just stopped itself for this very moment, granting him his long-awaited wish.

“Satoru?” You called again.

He blinks repeatedly and shakes his head, knocking himself out of his trance.

“You okay?” You ask, reaching to cup his face.

“Perfect, baby,” he responds, resting his cheek in your hand.

And when you’re both getting ready for bed that night, brushing your teeth at the shared mirror in your bathroom, you ask him:

“You do realize you have like—the most one of a kind eyes of all time right? Like by far the most beautiful eyes on the planet?”

He simply spits out the remaining bit of water and toothpaste into the sink bowl and shrugs. He looks at you in the mirror, smiles, and says:

“Maybe, but they’re not yours.”

find part two here

widowedgirldad! nanami who makes sure to plant two kisses on your daughter’s forehead after tucking her into bed — one from him, and of course one from mommy.

widowedgirldad! nanami whose hands were always steady — calculated in all his movements — yet couldn’t help his fingers from trembling when fastening the necklace he had once bought for you around your daughter’s neck. the moment the necklace clasped into place, a faint smile touched his lips as he watched your daughter’s eyes light up in the pink mirror in front of them.

“so pretty!” she beamed, tiny fingers wrapping around the yellow sapphire pendant before turning around and throwing herself against him in a gleeful hug. stiffened for a second before paternal instinct took over, his arms wrapped around your daughter’s small frame, drawing her carefully against his chest. nanami lowered his head, resting his chin atop of her curls before pressing a small kiss against them.

“your mom would’ve thought so too,” he said, the tremor in his hands finally steadying.

widowedgirldad! nanami who didn’t hesitate to answer any question your daughter had about you, no matter how much it may hurt him:

“did mommy love ice cream too?”

“did mommy like your tie?”

“what did mommy say when she saw me for the first time?”

“do you miss mommy?”

“do you still love mommy?”

widowedgirldad! nanami who stayed up all night searching and watching tutorials on how to do the braids you used to sport because your little girl saw a picture of you and begged for the same hairstyle.

widowedgirldad! nanami who makes sure to clap the loudest at his little girl’s dance recitals, as he remembers he’s clapping for himself and you, remembering how badly you always wanted to be there for moments like this.

widowedgirldad! nanami who leaves work exactly on time now and rushes home to attend his daughter’s tea parties, not minding at all that the small chair he was going to be sitting in was only going to make his back and legs ache later on.

widowedgirldad! nanami who keeps every one of his little girl’s drawings in a folder at work. he especially loves the one she drew of all three of you with a halo and heart above your head.

widowedgirldad! nanami who stared a second too long at his little girl’s kindergarten pictures because she smiled the exact same way you did, a tear slipping free before he could catch it and landing against the glossy photo.

“daddy?” your little girl cooed, tugging at his blue sleeves. “why are you crying?”

nanami swallowed hard before pulling his little girl into his lap, always pressing a kiss to her curls.

“because baby,” finger brushing against the photo before him. “you look so much like your mommy.”

You knew that already. You memorized his tells.

You knew when work was stressing him, he would simply pinch the bridge of his nose, tuck his chin near his chest, adjust his glasses, and straighten the tie that didn’t need fixing. And whenever the world was weighing on him, he would bury his pain into a ferocious bite in a delicious pastry at his favorite bakery.

But nope, you never saw a tear. He simply never cries, you believed.

That is until the heavy doors of the venue swung open.

As you stepped into the view, you could hear the entire room catch their breath in awe. There were friends, family, coworkers, and you could even hear the proud hums from them, as well as the gasping. But once your eyes averted from the flowers in your hands to meet Nanami’s eyes, you realized no one had seemed to lose it completely like Nanami.

Instead of merely adjusting his glasses, his trembling hands removed them, pressing his hands to his beet-reddened face. The tears that you swore were dry pellets in his system that didn’t budge, were wet streams down his cheeks and unstoppable.

Oh boy, and as you drew closer, he covered his mouth, desperately muffling the sob that wanted to praise you; that wanted to worship how beautifully the dress accentuated every curve in your body; that wanted to tell you how your curls complimented your face, and just how lucky he was.

But just like the very best best man should, Yu had completed the words Nanami couldn’t.

“I told you she was going to break you man,” he exclaimed, handing Nanami the handkerchief from his suit pocket into his shaky hands. “Look at her! You’re the luckiest guy alive.” He cheered, rubbing his back and gazing at you.

When your feet brought you to the altar, stopping right in front of him, your heart thumped at how completely undone he looked. His eyes, still welled with tears, were almost puffy. His hair that were slicked sharply when you first entered, had a couple strands that fell to his forehead.

He pulled his glasses to his face, lenses fogging up immediately from the heat. He swallowed hard and took your hands in his. Gentle, as always. The trembling had faded under your touch.

“Kento,” you whispered, smile at your lips.

He looked into your eyes at the sweet call of his name from your voice, breath shaky once he stared into yours.

“I am indeed, the luckiest man in the world.”

a/n: thought of this when thinking about the idea of my bf not crying at the sight of me at our wedding like boy i will turn around and keep walking out until you do.

pure fluff that’s just way too sweet

the sizzling of scrambled eggs and sausage reverberated through the kitchen. your back was turned from your two girls sitting at the dining table. you could hear your eldest too busy making fart noises with her cheeks that had your your little one in her high chair cackling and shrieking with pure joy. smile tugging at your lips, your moomoo swayed against the cold tiles as you stepped towards the other pan, checking the heart shaped pancakes the girls would flip the table over if they couldn’t have.

your mornings were typically like this before taking the girls to school and daycare, then heading home to get ready for work yourself. but from the depths of your bedroom, you could hear kento rummaging and shuffling about. when you had first tried to wake him this morning, you were met with bloodshot eyes and heavy lids that were begging to hide them, instantly breaking your heart. before you could even think of the words to convince him to shut his eyes and rest, the stubborn blonde had already twisted his lips to ask:

“what time is it?”

and as soon as you told him a little after 7:30 in the morning, you knew your weak attempt of convincing him was long gone. his arm was already yanking the cover off of him like a cape.

“ken!” you called, flipping the golden cakes over, the sweet smell brushing your nose.

“daddy!” your eldest—‘your mini me,’ nanami claimed—called out right after you.

at the sound of his footsteps, yours eyes darted to the kitchen entrance, watching him stream in the kitchen with the same tired eyes you seen already. his hair that was almost always in a pristine swoop, was disheveled and casting a curtain over his forehead. the beige suit jacket he wore that emphasized every muscle in his arm was slung lazily over one shoulder, and his briefcase filled with mountains of spreadsheets and documents were all threatening to escape through the opening.

your eyes went back to the stove, flipping a pancake over once more. you felt his large hand around your waist, pulling you gently back against his chest. you leaned into his familiar warmth as he planted a succession of soft, sleepy kisses to your temple and cheek.

“good morning, honey,” he murmured, his forehead resting against your bonnet. his hand trailed down your hip, giving your ass a light playful tap, discreet enough to pass right over the girls’ head, but enough to make you blush.

you grinned up at him, giving him a look with your eyebrow raised. you turned to the girls briefly before smiling back at him. “aren’t these the same touches from last night that made you oversleep in the first place?” you whispered.

“hmm, i think there were a little more touches than that,” he teased, hand tightening around your waist to tug you back against his chest. more bashful snickers left your lips before you lightly pushed him away.

“eww, are you and mommy kissing over there?” your eldest cooed, childish laughter escaping from her.

you both turned to her, smiling.

“your coffee is on the table,” you told him, eyes focusing on the eggs and sausage in the other pan. “and i already have the steak from last night wrapped in the foil for your lunch.”

he planted one more lingering kiss against the fabric of your bonnet before rushing around the table to his girls. he leaned over his eldest, murmuring “have a great day at school, sweetheart,” as he kissed her forehead. “your spelling test is today?”

even in the midst of him rushing and trudging through exhaustion, you couldn’t help but smile as he always made sure to remember every single detail for the girls.

“yup,” your eldest answered confidently.

“you’re going to ace it, baby,” he assured.

he rushed over to the other side to the youngest, grinning and giggling already seeing her daddy sneakily rush over to her. you heard him plant two huge kisses to her forehead and your arm that was so used to flipping and turning when making breakfast, instantly felt stiff.

there was an uncomfortable pause in the air. like a fresh lemon squeezed in your eyes, you closed it, just waiting for impact of the scene behind you.

big mistake babe, you thought to yourself.

“that’s not fair!” the eldest protested, folding her arms and grimacing at her daddy.

“what’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“she got two kisses, and i only got one!” she whined.

you shook your head, bottom lip tucking behind your teeth to prevent laughter.

“okay, you’re right,” nanami admitted in defeat, rushing over to his eldest to even the score, but the moment he pulled away from the high chair, the toddler took it personally. her lower lip trembled, and her previous giggles were now sniffles.

and as soon as he planted a kiss on the eldest’s forehead, you could hear it echo through the kitchen, before being overtaken by the youngest’s dramatic, sudden wailing.

the eggs, pancakes and scrambled eggs were long done, and the stove was turned off, but you refused to turn around just yet, opting to wait with a mere grin spread across your face.

“damn it,” kento muttered under his breath, peering down at the strict time on his watch that had long left him.

the eldest’s eyes grew wide, a triumphant grin replacing her pout. “ooo daddy! that’s a dollar in the swear jar.”

kento pinched the bridge of his nose, just absolutely defeated by a six-year-old. “yup, sweetie. just put it on my tab,” he sighed, digging a bill out of his wallet and dropping it on the table.

the cries of the youngest still echoed throughout the kitchen. he quickly stepped over and scooped her out of her high chair, holding her secure against his chest. he bounced her gently on his hip, murmuring a few low and soothing words to the toddler until her dramatic wails finally cut short, turning into quiet, satisfied sniffles.

her eyes, hazel like his, widened immediately as you set her plate with tiny cut up pancakes and sausages drizzled in syrup on the table. her body and little legs wiggled in excitement as kento carefully set her back down in her high chair. she clapped briefly before diving into her food, syrup all over her face already.

you watched a much-needed exhale leave his lips. his hooded eyes, completely full of softness, admiring his girls, peaceful and enjoying the well-prepared food set before them. the tension in his shoulders dropped and a genuine tug of a smile pulled at one side of his mouth.

when he turned to grab his briefcase and food, he almost knocked into you. you were already holding his things with an extra plate in front of him, and smiling up at him.

“i got it from here,” you teased. “also i got some extra breakfast for you here.”

a soft chuckle vibrated through his chest as he took the briefcase and food, setting them on the counter so his hands were completely free. he swiftly closed the distance between you two, his large hands anchoring securely around your waist, and your moomoo swaying against the tiles as he pulled you in closer near his chest.

“you’re gonna be late, ken,” you warned, knowing damn well you didn’t care, completely taken by his warmth and hands. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

he leaned down, eyes closing as he kissed you deeply. no tongue, or anything too slick, but just a firm and meaningful kiss that took your breath away as if he did. “thank you, honey. for giving me this—for giving me my world,” he said in between the kiss.

as he pulled away, his thumb reached up to gently wipe a smudge of syrup near your lip, making you blush under his touch. he kept his warm gaze on you as he quickly licked the sweetness off his finger before grabbing his things off the counter.

“have a good day at work, baby,” you waved, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as if that wasn’t your husband already.

“i love you,” he whispered, bringing his briefcase to his side, two plates in the other hand. his eyes averted to the strand that fell right at the bridge of his nose.

“bad hair day, i suppose.”

“very bad,” your eldest chimed in, pulling her head back and letting the pancake drop in her mouth.

your toddler, of course, giggled away at her sister’s antics.

a/n: when i wrote “i’ll take it from here,” i sighed so loud

suggestive language, mentions of violence, some angst

you weren’t particularly a morning person, but somehow the universe knew to wake you up just in time to watch your fiance kento get dressed for work.

you awoke to the sight of him leaning forward, both hands resting against the dresser. veins slowly rose beneath the skin of his forearms and along his huge biceps from the pressure. he stayed there quietly, staring down at the surface of the dresser.

his crisp-ironed blue button down still hadn't made it on.

the soft light from the window captured everything. you had a clear view of his sharply defined back, your eyes instinctively tracing the red and purple marks across his skin. a few of them you recognized as yours, but most of the others you knew came from from a brutal line of work you couldn't understand - one you refused to understand. scars that were rougher. older. and permanent.

a tired sigh escaped his lips as he lifted his hand to push back the blonde hair that was messily draped over his forehead. through the mirror, you caught sight of the weariness in his hazel eyes. you wanted to call for him to sleep more, but you knew this was a tiredness a few more hours of sleep couldn't fix. he once again dropped his head, a few strands following suit.

your eyes darted to each bit of tenseness: in the bags under his eyes; in the slight crease between his brows; in the heavy exhale that escaped his lips once again as he finally reached for the neatly folded blue button down resting beside him. you watched as the shirt stretched briefly across his broad shoulders before settling against his muscular figure. for a moment, the shirt hung open, showing off the sharp, cut lines of his chest and stomach. a sight that made your heart flutter.

methodical even when exhausted, his fingers quickly worked up his button down, fastening each button with studied, experienced precision. his strong hands aligned each button without having to look, eyes too busy fighting sleep whenever he blinked but still glued to the mirror.

one by one, you watched your fiancé hook each suspender to the waistband of his slacks. he was probably the only young man in existence to still wear suspenders, but god, did you think it looked good as hell on him. the quiet metal clasp clicked softly through the room, causing him to look your way in the bed. it was the widest you've seen his eyes so far this morning.

you knew he had already seen you wide awake, but you always hid underneath the covers once he caught you staring.

accepting defeat, you peeked at him from beneath the covers. he faced you now.

his brown suspenders framed the broadness of his chest now, the blue button down fitted neatly against his shoulders, blonde hair still slightly disheveled despite his attempts to fix it. even tired from trying to carry the world on his shoulders, standing there half-dressed, he was handsome. unfairly handsome.

he reached for his yellow necktie covered in irregular black dots. watching him put it on was by far your favorite part of his morning routine - and now you had a front view of it all.

“honey, why are you up?” nanami questioned, his voice in a soft whisper. “i hope i didn’t wake you.”

"no you didn’t wake me," you began, scanning him from head to toe. “you're just very distracting."

a faint twitch tugged at the corner of his mouth, threatening him to smile before slightly tilting his head and draping the tie neatly beneath the collar of his button down.

his eyes never left you.

not even as his broad hands moved slowly against the fabric, looping it over itself with practiced precision. the motion drew a subtle flex through his torearms and biceps beneath the the blue shirt. as he tightened the knot with one smooth pull, you watched as his sharp jaw tensed right before adjusting it carefully against his throat.

"i'm only getting dressed for work, darling," he voiced, his back resting against the dresser now.

"exactly," you retorted softly. "but i wish you could see how desperately you need rest, kento."

"i can't just rest, honey," nanami sighed, folding his arms and letting his head fall. "those kids out there.." he trailed off, head shaking in thought.

for a moment, the room fell quiet. he quickly lifted his head fully toward you, finality in his eyes. not coldness. not anger.

"those kids at that school: they need me," he shook his head, biting his bottom lip before twisting his mouth to speak again. “so no, i can't just rest."

your chest tightened. you wanted to shout "i need you!" but you already had these conversations with the stubborn blonde far too many times and you knew how it ended.

when it came to yuji, megumi, nobara, takuma...

you couldn't win.

his hand reached for one more item behind him, but instead of grabbing it immediately, his fingers searched frantically. his brows pulled together as his hand searched blindly across the dresser.

you bit down on a smile beneath the blankets as he exhaled through his nose.

"have you seen my glasses?" he asked, raising his brow at you.

your faint smile turning devilish, as you slowly lifted the familiar set above the comforter before burying them back down between your legs.

"well i know you can't miss work," you said innocently. "but can you at least be late?"

the faintest twitch appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"i really need my glasses, darling."

"really? just show me how bad you need them then."

he stared at you for a moment from across the room. then with another sigh of resignation, his fingers moved to the knot at his throat, yanking it down with a hungry force that made your tummy flip.

as much as you loved watching him put the tie on, you loved watching him take the tie off even more.

lots of stupid sex talk and dumb jokes at a diner between early 20 something year old friends, mentions of virginity. au. no smut in dis. implied tho.

when you needed to vent, you called satoru gojo. he talked…a lot. but surprisingly, he made a great listener for all of your silly escapades. he was the only one you knew that would listen—poke fun—but wouldn’t judge or hold it against you.

you both sat in the diner, facing one another, stuffing your faces with chili cheese fries and shirley temples. the chili cheese fries they served could serve a family of eight, so of course you guys never bought the fries individually, but just shared it amongst each other.

“so,” gojo began, cocking his head back and dropping the fries in his mouth. “what’s got you all hung up this time?”

you sat back in the booth, sigh escaping your mouth with an accompanying eye roll. gojo remained looking at you, hint of a smile on his face while he scarfed down the fries.

“it’s actually quite stupid, to be honest,” you admitted, propping your face up with your hand.

“well, i’m sure it can’t be dumber than your last reason,” gojo teased, mouth still full of fries. “you’re very impressive with upping your score each time.”

you audibly smacked your teeth and flipped him off.

“maybe i should start keeping a scoreboard every time you call me to chat.”

“are you done?” you asked nonchalantly, face still propped by your hand.

pointing his finger in the air, “or maybe you should bring one.”

his hand trailed towards the tray of fries beneath him until you yanked it away, leaving his fingers grasping at air.

“listen!” you yelled, forcing a fry in your mouth.

gojo’s shoulders dropped. he lifted his hands in defeat, motioning for you to continue with your story.

“i went on a date with this guy last night, right?” you began, looking and grabbing fries as you continued. “great date, nothing crazy. but once we reached my door…he just kissed me on the forehead and told me goodnight.”

you stared down at the fries a little longer, anticipating a response from gojo. but when you looked up, he was blinking slowly, eyes then moving to the left and right.

“and the problem is?” he questioned, curiosity in his voice.

you groaned and dropped your face into both hands, pulling your skin downwards as you looked back at gojo’s eyebrow raising.

“there’s not a problem—like at all,” you explained, taking a gulp from your untouched shirley temple “but i was expecting you know…” your shoulders began to move in an exaggerated rhythm. “a little wine and dine in my living room, and then maybe you know a little…” you cleared your throat and dropped your voice an octave. ‘this pussy is mine’ in the bedroom.”

your hands trailed towards the tray of fries beneath him until you slowly saw it being dragged away, lifting your head to see gojo pulling it with his eyes wide.

“are you sure you didn’t just scare him off?” he teased, instinctively smiling when the taste of a fry touched his tastebuds

“goj!” you dropped your face back into your hands.

he simply snickered at your shame. “or maybe he didn’t want to just be like every guy.”

you raised your head, meeting his gaze—his gaze still on fries. “well, not every guy wants sex,” you began, taking a sip from your shirley temple again. “i mean a lot do, but i’ve already told you about the guys i went on dates with, and all we did was hang out.”

“or argue,” gojo shrugged.

you flipped him off again, meeting a flip off from him back. he dipped his head back and dropped the last of fries into his mouth.

“i just really wanted this one specifically to want sex.”

“so you like him?”

“no! not really,” you admitted, shrugging and leaning back against the booth. “he’s okay…a little bit too fascinated with blood but…it left me anticipating something kinky.”

gojo, sure he listened, was too busy trying to get the attention of a waiter for more fries to respond. everytime he tried to yell, he was just left sticking his finger in the air. you rolled your eyes and carried on with your complaint anyway.

“can’t a girl just want some sex? just a few strokes and nothing more?”

“why don’t you just call toji?” gojo asked, still not looking at you, hands getting more frantic trying to wave down a waiter.

you furrowed your brow and hit the table, immediately getting gojo’s attention again. he sat back in the booth like a puppy who didn’t get his treat.

“i don’t need sex that bad,” you pointed at him, voice a little raised. you placed your finger down and sighed. “and besides, as much as he’s good in bed, i’m not trying to deal with any of his stupid baby mama drama…or his smart ass mouth.”

“fair enough,” gojo shrugged. “he does have a smart ass mouth.”

you continued drinking your shirley temple, watching gojo still fail to get a waiter. you scoffed at him.

“sir!” you screamed, grabbing the attention of a few patrons and finally: a waiter.

“can we get another order of the supreme chili cheese fries? ranch on the side, please?” you smiled, giving the waiter a thumbs up as he nodded.

you met gojo’s gaze, eyes wide and hands pressed to the table.

“i could’ve just did that,” he said blankly.” i didn’t want to be rude though…” he trailed off.

you completely dickmatized: “okay maybe i’ll just call toji.”

“no, no you’re not gonna be that desperate now, are you?” gojo asked in protest, scrunching his face and raising his arms. “aren’t there other guys in your phone you could call?”

he lifted his finger like a lit lightbulb was over his head, remembering a suitor.

“ooo, what about that guy, kento?”

you groaned, dropping your shoulders, ashamed thinking of the one that got away. “don’t remind me of him,” you stuck your lip out in a pout. “i saw him and his wife’s new wedding photos and it made me drive 43 miles from where i was to toji’s.”

“oh girl,” gojo teased, shaking his head slowly and smacking his teeth.

“plus i’m tired of the same guys. i need something new and exciting,” you took a big gulp of your drink. “and maybe heavy…and a bit girthy.”

“not long?” gojo snickered.

“not right now, goj,” you said, no giggle escaping.

“you’re no fun,” gojo moaned. “and where are my fries?” he looked out into the busy diner.

“i just wish sex wasn’t this big thing everyone makes it out to be. i would love to just call kento and be like ‘saw the wedding photos!’ celebratory sex for the one time?’”

gojo, too busy, continued looking out into the noisy diner, head moving back and forth just in hopes of a waiter carrying the fries.

“sometimes i wish i was a virgin still,” you admitted, almost in a whisper. “then maybe i wouldn’t be so hung up on dick all the time…or maybe i would,” you thought aloud, raising your brow. you shook your head from the thought and continued drinking your shirley temple.

but gojo’s head turned back to you—almost immediately.

“trust me: you wouldn’t want that.”

you scrunched up your face, biting your bottom lip briefly. “i mean why not? you’re telling me you’re not hung up on pussy?” you leaned back, folding your arms and nodding away. “i’m impressed”

“no no, it’s not that,” gojo responded. “i am, it’s just-” he stopped mid sentence, brow raising, eyes widening, and finger tapping the table, trying everything and failing to concoct words.

the always talking gojo, ever so speechless now.

he shrugged in defeat. “i don’t know. i just know you wouldn’t want to be a virgin still.”

“are you talking in general or are you just talking ‘me’ specifically?” you sipped, eyes still on him. your brows heavily furrowed, awaiting him to unwrap this messy conversation.

you could swear you saw his cheeks redden. “where are these damn fries!” he banged the table with his fist, making you jump a bit. hair not in his face at all, his hand kept trying to bring it back anyway.

that’s when it hit you.

“or are you just talking you?”

he paused. sinking in his seat.

“one supreme chili cheese fries,” the waiter announced, dropping the food off. the fries lays waiting in the middle of the table, but yet, the one who wanted them so bad laid staring at you.

“me?” he scoffed, pointing to himself. “a virgin?”

“it’s literally fine if you are, go-”

his erupt laughter cut you off. he continue banging the table, leaning forward and shaking his head. you could tell you caught the eyes of more patrons.

you had seen him laugh so much that the way his eyes moved left and right as his neck strained, forcing a chuckle out of his lips—you could tell this one was farce.

“gojo, answer me honestly,” you interjected, reaching your hands out to him.

he stopped, still bent over with his eyes looking up at you.

“are you a virgin?” you asked in a whisper, offering a sympathetic smile.

gojo dug his face into his hands, pieces of chili from his messy fingers gelling to his white hair.

“dude there’s absolutely nothing wrong with being a virgin,” you reassured, still reaching for his hands, but his hands dove straight in the tray of fries, causing bits of chili to land on the table.

he forcibly stuffed it into his mouth. “yeah, when you want to be one,” he responded pitifully, mouth full of fries.

your mouth wanted to twitch into a smile, but you bit your lip and fought against it. you leaned back trying to come up with the right words—something to express it wasn’t really a big deal…or at least something to flip the topic back to you, but you came up with:

“i mean at least you’re not like me, just wanting some damn genital all the time.”

you pressed your fingernails into your head, wanting to take back the words your dumb brain could come up with.

“but i do want some genital all the time!” he retorted…loudly.

your eyes met the person behind gojo glaring at you. you mouthed ‘sorry’ and bent down.

“gojo, keep your fucking voice down,” you whispered, “you’re gonna get us kicked out.”

he slowly placed a fry in his mouth. one by one, he continued feasting, not meeting your gaze once.

you rolled your eyes and snapped your fingers at him, finally getting him to look at you.

“what?” mouth full and open for everyone to see the mashed fries.

you reached over and lifted his chin up, forcing him to close his mouth. he just stared blankly at you, cheeks full now.

“why do you think you’re still a virgin? only answer if you absolutely don’t mind me asking.”

he took an audible gulp and began tracing the table with the chili. “i don’t know. i think i just scare women off.”

“you?” a snicker breaking its way out of your mouth. you tried holding the sarcasm. “no way, not you.”

“i’m fucking doomed, aren’t i?”

“i mean,” you began, shrugging. “you’re a little loud, obnoxious, and out there sometimes, and what’s the word? expressive?” you teased. “did i say loud?”

“just put me out of my misery,” he said, voice low and pitiful.

you sighed, no longer wanting to see him suffer.

“okay goj, in all seriousness, it’s not that serious. it’s completely fine.”

“haven’t you embarrassed me enough?” he barked. hey everybody! big virg-“ you reached over and clasped his mouth shut with your hands. but everybody was already looking.

inches away from each other, your eyes met. his blues were definitely even more striking from this close. you were in a far awkward position, but having your hand around his mouth was quite…satisfying.

although wide, his gaze softened under your touch and you could see his shoulders drop.

remembering the many eyes on you, you regained composure, refusing to let up.

you leaned back in your booth, your eyes remaining on him as you sat. he continued following your eyes, a soft smile appearing on his face.

“i’m acting crazy, aren’t i?” he asked, genuinely. he dropped another fry in his mouth. he gulped and stared at the tray. “i think it’s the fries.”

“goj, it’s really not a big deal, though. let’s change the topic, okay?”

“it’s fine! just don’t tell my friends, please. i need them to think i’m a hoe.”

i don’t even like your friends, is what you wanted to say, but you stuck your pinky out instead.

with a toothy grin, his pinky interlocked with yours. you both stayed like that, just above the chili cheese fries. your fingers felt warm all of a sudden. the fries were on the table for a while, so you knew it wasn’t the heat. you then felt your cheeks warm up.

you pulled back immediately and rubbed your hand under the table.

“goj,” you began slowly, voice in a soft whisper. “answer me honestly one last time.”

“you and this honesty thing,” he pointed a fry at you. “it’s getting me into a world of trouble,

you snickered at his response, and took a deep breath. “don’t get too excited…but would you maybe want to have sex with me?”

your eyes trailed as a bit of chili fell from his hair and onto the table.

he raised his glass of shirley temple—his first time touching it all night—and took three large gulps.

he met your gaze again. you sat there, leaning back waiting for answer, gripping the seat with your nails.

“i-i mean, what about our friendship?” he questioned, hand scratching the back of his head.

“i could just call toji,” you moved as if you were about to grab your phone.

he reached over against the table, and grabbed your arm. your gaze dropped to his white shirt, snickering as it was ruined by the chili all over it. but he didn’t seem to mind—just staring and smiling at you like a lost kid who found his mom in the mall.

“yes! i’m down,” he squealed. he quickly shook his head and leaned back, back resting against the booth and arms folded. he audibly cleared his throat.

“where should we meet, then?” he asked in a faux deep voice.

“well if you can get the waiter for the check, as soon as we leave—”

“sir!” gojo yelled from across the diner with both hands around his mouth.

an | i had too much fun writing this. i could see a part two in the future…

part two for you lovelies! find part one here ♡

widowedgirldad! nanami who heavily considers leaving his life of sorcery after your little girl has a nightmare that he left and didn’t return home. he rushed to the sound of her sobs coming from her bedroom and quickly nestled her into a warm hug.

“papa, you were gone-i tried to find you, i called for you and- “ your little one cried, only choking through her explanation.

“shh,” nanami whispered, tugging her closer into his chest. swallowing the harsh taste in his mouth, nanami slowly turned to cup your little one’s face. “see, i’m right here, baby. i’m here. daddy’s not going anywhere.”

she sniffled, looking her father in the eyes, reality kicking in that her papa hadn’t gone anywhere—that he had no intention to.

“i dont want to lose you, too” she admits in a whisper, bottom lip extending out.

the words hit him like a slash to the abdomen, and yet he had experienced many of those, but none ever as sharp as her words.

“lay down, honey.”

your little one quickly obliged, your husband following suit as he laid next to her.

legs having no choice but to hang over your little one’s princess bed, minimal room to stretch, nanami didn’t want it any other way. he stayed with his arms wrapped around her, clinging her close to his chest, hoping she could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat against her back.

“i’m here,” he whispered throughout the night until her sniffles transitioned to light snoring, his fingers softly intertwining with her curls.

widowedgirldad! nanami who tells his boss he’s leaving work early, the thought of you weighing heavy on his mind.

widowedgirldad! nanami who instead of driving home, goes to the nearest flower shop to buy your favorite flowers to lay at your gravesite. still in his suit and sitting in the grass beside you for hours, he gushes about your little girl’s achievements and talents, her new imaginary friend that he admittedly can’t stand, and how the nightmare she had about his disappearance had frightened him severely—far more than he’d like to admit. staring at your name etched into stone, nanami catches himself thinking how he would rather you get to experience all of this than him. feeling his chest ache, he got himself off the ground and dusted off a few lingering blades of grass on his suit pants. before leaving, he kissed your headstone twice—one from him and your little girl.

widowedgirldad! nanami whose knees are starting to ache from crouching outside of your little girl’s school, waiting for her to come running out of the school with the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers (flowers he bought for her as well). still with his suit on in the unforgiving sun, he waits patiently. soon your little girl comes dashing out and to his welcoming arms, painting a full smile on nanami’s face before lifting and spinning her in the air.

“are those for me?” his little girl excitedly asked, reaching for the pretty flowers.

“oh these?” nanami teased, glancing at the flowers and turning back to his little girl. “your mommy told me to get them for you.”

your little girl squealed in glee and wrapped her arms around nanami’s neck.

“mommy’s the best!”

widowedgirldad! nanami who takes off of from work and calls your school to excuse your little girl’s absence on mother’s day just to spend the whole day with his daughter. yuji showed him the tiktok trend where you write places and activities on a card and let your little one pick. of course him always spoiling his princess, he ended up doing the card she didn’t pick as well for multiple rounds.

widowedgirldad! nanami who is the furthest from being photogenic but has a bunch of selfies and videos with his little girl. lots of smiles, funny faces, ballet videos, and their tea party gatherings where you can tell he’s extremely exhausted and still in his suit.

widowedgirldad! nanami who’s quick to correct people at your little girl’s dance recitals when they say “i don’t know what she would’ve done without you.” he responds: “no, i don’t know what i would’ve done without her.”

widowedgirldad! nanami who lets her win at pillow fights so he can get her into bed quicker. as he kisses her forehead twice, he winches at a slight pain that shoots through his shoulder.

widowedgirldad! nanami who returns to work the next day and opens his briefcase to a bunch of crafts and drawings that could only be done by one small individual. as he lifted up one of the drawings, a tear threatened to leave his eye. “me + u + mamy so u dnt git lon lnly” it read with butterflies and birds scribbled everywhere.

a faint smile touched his lips before he looked up at the ceiling, hoping you could hear him talking to you. “look honey, she even spells like you.”

mdni. shamelessly, filthy late night write-up. not proofread

the air in the room is suffocatingly thick with a silence reiner's heavy breathing fails to hide.

your hands work fast, unbuttoning his shirt to the very last button before he can even catch his breath.

he doesn't believe he deserves this.

he sits at the edge of his mattress, eyeing you up and down. as you press a peck to his temple, a shudder escapes his lip. when you kiss right at his stubbled jawline, his hands grip the sheets beneath him, sounds of the springs echoing throughout the room. he trembles as your fingernails trace his bare chest and stomach on your way down.

you kneel between his legs, eager fingers already tugging at his trousers. he twitches in his seat. he doesn't fight you. you slip your fingers into the waistband of his pants and briefs and pull them down to his ankles, exposing him completely to the cool air of the room.

you hear a sob fall from his lips as his cock springs bare, beads of precum already falling down his shaft.

your eyes trail up to him, he has his face lifted, head tilted back, and face buried into the crook of his arm, ashamed to look at you. ashamed to feel something this good. his chest heaves up and down.

"rei," you call.

he doesn't answer, too consumed with trying to catch his breath.

you lift your hands forward, wrapping your fingers around his forearm, firmly pushing it to his side. you slowly interlock your fingers into his large calloused hands, securing it in place as you kneeled back down.

"please," he falters, voice cracking through his plea. "you don't have to."

you keep your eyes on him. you smile, fingers wrapping around his base.

"but i want to."

you lean in. your lips brush against the sensitive head of his length, instantly catching the drop of precum on your tongue. reiner lets out a ragged gasp, clenching his eyes shut as his leg beside you jolts viscerally.

when you slide your mouth fully over him, drinking in the salty taste of his shaft, and enveloping the thickness of his length, a full sob rips from his throat. the heat of your mouth, the utter coldness of the room makes his stomach muscles clench hard. he tries to snatch his hand away, but you don't let him, setting it firm against the mattress beside him. your grip tightens.

you lap your tongue against his shaft, laying your tongue flat near the base, slowly gliding it back up to the tip. a slutty moan escapes you as you force his cock back into your mouth, the broad head brushing the middle of your throat.

"fu-fuc-fuck," he pants. your gaze stays on him, watching tears brim and fall from his eyes. he pulls his bottom lip in, biting down like it's his only lifeline. still, his whimpers seeps out for a man who has denied comfort for so long.

you wrap one hand around the base of his cock, pumping firmly in sync with the punishing rhythm of your mouth bobbing up and down.

you pull away, still pumping him.

"you didn't tell me you were so big, rei," you tease, eyes at him, glistening spit all on your mouth and chin. "why didn't you tell me?"

"i-i'm so—” his words are cut off with a long moan, tilting his head back as your lips meet his cock again. "god, please let me touch you."

you let go of his hand. you feel his thick fingers intertwine with your hair, twisting into your curls with a desperate tug. you feel the tremble in them, but still it's enough for him to push your head down, guiding you to take him whole.

you gag as he bottoms out in your throat and as you pull back up, saliva stretches, connecting from your lip to his wet tip. reiner watches you through hooded eyes, reddened face and heaving chest. his breath hitches at the sight of you, your pupils filled with a yearn he doesn't understand.

"you keep looking at me like that," he moans, hand flying to his face, wiping the tears that keep falling. "you're so beautiful…it's destroying me."

your heart flutters. but you're needy. you listen, eyes on him as your lips meet his cock again. you pick up the pace this time, betraying the slow rhythm to a relentless speed. you stack both hands at the base, pumping him in sync with the drooling wet bob of your mouth.

"ah--fuck," reiner gasps, hand roughly tugging at your hair to pull you back. "i--i'm cumming."

you lean closer to his thighs, using your stacked hands to keep him in place. a sloppy moan vibrates deep in your throat, the heavy suction echoing loudly in the room. reiner's breath completely hitches, his legs shake and jolts beside your bobbing head. a sharp, strangled gasp erupts from him, the sound bouncing off the walls.

his grip in your hair tightens. you know he isn't trying to hurt you. his hips jolt upward, driving his cock as deep as it can go in your throat. you let out a choked gag, tears streaming down your face from the length.

his eyes snap open, glassy with a fresh set of tears, jaw dropping as the first wave of his climax hits. you don't stop, drinking his spillage all in as it glides down your throat. every remaining twitch of his cock draws a ragged sob from him.

you pull back slowly, his fingers slipping from your hair. a thick strand of his saliva stretches from your mouth along with his release.

his hands fly to his face. they stay there, covering his full face.

you pull his hands away, revealing teary, bloodshot eyes. he's still trying to catch his breath.

you cup his face, smiling at him as you gently brush a stray tear thats sliding down his cheek.

"thank you," he whispers, mere inches from your face. he leans in, and kisses your lip, you drink in the tremor.

"thank you,” he breathes between your lips.

a/n: this is my 100th post. (i love that)