#mini skirts

Poly Band Au—Choso,Suguru,Nanami,Sukuna,Gojo,Toji x fem reader

It had been an entire month since the concert.

You bought tickets to their next show the same night you got home, quietly pretending to Nobara that you didn’t fall in love with their music the second the first song hit.

But you did. Badly.

The passion is what got you first…

Then meeting them made it ten times worse.

You caught yourself listening to their old albums, watching live clips, and—finally—finding their Instagram.

A million followers on every platform.

But the surprise?

They followed you back.

You didn’t even know who ran the account, but whoever it was kept liking your stories.

Only the ones with your face in them.

You had the picture Suguru took saved in your highlights, and the second you followed them, it got liked.

That was a month ago. Whoever it was hadn’t stopped since.

Now you were sitting at work, bored and drowning in paperwork, when your phone buzzed.

Nobara.

Dozens of messages.

I’m so sorry BUT I CANT GOOOO

My mom just told me I have to go down for a family emergency TODAY

Like literally TODAY

You blinked at the wall of texts as more came in, all explaining how she couldn’t go to the concert with you.

Meaning you were going alone.

You typed quickly:

You’re making me go alone…

Nobaraaaa

You knew she wouldn’t bail unless she had to, but still—

You’d never gone to a concert alone.

And you didn’t know anyone else who liked this kind of music.

Her reply came in immediately:

You’ll be fineeee

They all love you anyways

SEND ME PHOTOS AND TAKE VIDEOSSSSS

You hearted it with a sigh and tried to get back to work.

Eventually your shift ended, and on the drive home you were already stressing about what to wear.

This was one of their low-capacity shows. A tiny venue—way smaller than last time.

Close stage, concrete floors, and a reputation for fans jumping up toward the end of the set.

Tickets were impossible to find but you managed.

By the time you got home, you had plenty of time to get ready.

You ate, showered, did your hair and makeup, and then… stood at your closet for a full ten minutes debating why you were suddenly treating this like a date.

You went through five outfits before landing on something decent.

Now you had an hour to spare.

The venue was forty minutes away, so you grabbed your bag and headed for the door—

when your phone buzzed.

You glanced down.

BlackLanternOfficial:

Hey first timer, you still coming to tonight’s show?

Your heart dropped straight into your stomach.

You didn’t open it—you screenshot it first.

Sent it to Nobara immediately.

Her response was instant and unhinged.

All caps.

A million questions.

You answered half of them before she freaked out again.

She knew the account followed you, but messaging you?

Tonight??

You asked her what to say, then finally typed back:

Ofcc but it’ll just be me this time. My friend had a family emergency.

You sent Nobara the screenshot. She hearted it before you even locked your phone.

Another buzz.

I’m sorry to hear that

But I hope you have a good time

The message felt way too genuine.

Like someone was deliberately being… soft?

It made you second guess everything.

Was it Gojo?

He seemed chaotic enough.

Or Suguru—he had the vibe.

Maybe even Choso or Nanami. Hell, maybe it rotated.

You shook it off. You needed to leave.

You locked your door and walked to your car, almost forgetting about the message until Nobara brought it up again when you called her.

She couldn’t believe it.

Honestly, neither could you.

But soon you hung up because you had pulled into the venue.

And it was way more packed than you expected.

You stepped out, ending the call with a quick, “Love you, bye,” before putting your phone away.

Same routine as last time—metal detectors, ticket scan, walk through the gate.

It was already nighttime, but the venue lights made everything glow.

People were moshing even though the band wasn’t on stage yet, which only made your anxiety spike.

The space was tight.

Really tight.

But you pushed through anyway, weaving between people until you reached the front—

hands gripping the railing, breath steadying, heart thumping.

You made it.

And now all you could do was wait.

The lights snapped on, strobing over the crowd as everyone surged forward, screaming. The curtains dragged open and the stage filled with them—exactly how you remembered.

Gojo at his mic.

Suguru to his left, guitar strapped low.

Choso deep right behind the drums.

Sukuna and Toji on the opposite side.

And dead center, Nanami—calm, collected, golden under the lights.

They launched straight into their newest song and the room exploded.

People were jumping, shoving, waving their phones in the air with the flash on, already drenched in sweat even though the show had barely started.

You kept still, letting the sound hit you full-force. Last time you were close—but not this close.

You were practically at their feet. You could feel the speakers thrum in your ribcage, feel the railing vibrate under your palm.

The lights swept across their faces, catching on sweat, piercings, instruments—making them look unreal, like they were glowing.

Every beat from the drums rattled through the floor.

Choso was a machine at first—slamming the snare, foot tapping, keeping perfect tempo.

His eyes scanned the crowd without really seeing anyone.

Then his gaze snagged on you.

He froze—not visibly, but you felt it. His brow twitched, his throat bobbed, and for half a second he fell a hair off-beat.

You saw the moment he panicked, correcting himself with a harder hit, hair whipping forward as he jerked his head and forced himself back into rhythm.

The reaction was so quick the crowd didn’t notice. But you definitely did.

The floor shook with the bodies around you, everyone jumping in sync, screaming lyrics. You gripped the railing tighter as the energy swelled around you like a wave.

Your heart kicked up because that wasn’t the first time you’d seen him do that—the glancing, the quick flutter of his eyes, the momentary slip.

But you pushed it away. You weren’t about to become one of those die-hard fans who swore a single glance meant something.

You kept listening, getting jostled from every angle as you held onto the railing.

Satoru was singing with full force, hair already pushed back by his own fingers. Every time he smiled, the girls around you screamed.

Then his eyes swept over the mass of people and… stopped on you.

He winked.

You felt the floor tilt—not from the crowd, but from the way he did it so casually, like he’d been looking for you.

He ripped the mic off the stand and moved down the stage, leaning into cameras and grabbing people’s phones while he kept singing.

Then he made it to your side.

Still mid-verse, he knelt, and the fans surged forward so hard you slammed against the railing. But his eyes stayed locked on you—like you were the only steady thing in the chaos.

For a split second, you didn’t feel delusional.

Then the bass ripped through the venue, loud enough that Satoru stood and moved back to center stage.

Sukuna took over, fingers flying.

The lights washed over him, turning his tattoos blue and pink, hair whipping with every violent strum.

He looked like he was trying to start a war with his instrument.

He kept getting louder.

Too loud.

Nanami shot him a sharp look. It did nothing.

Sukuna just smirked, rolling his eyes toward the fans chanting, “WE LOVE YOU RYO!” before he tossed his head back again—hair flying—right as Toji joined him, matching his energy beat for beat.

Together they drowned out the vocals for a moment.

Suguru didn’t fight it. He kept singing, rings wrapped around the mic, necklace catching the lights, his hair falling over his shoulders as he scanned the crowd.

Phones everywhere.

Flashing lights.

Screaming fans.

And then—there was you.

A tiny space without a single phone in the air, just you staring up at him with this look… like you were actually listening. Really listening.

His voice strengthened when your eyes met, the line coming out smoother, fuller—before he forced himself to look away.

Nanami, dead in the center, looked pissed. Everyone was playing different tonight, and he knew exactly why.

Satoru had texted you because Toji dared him.

“You’re too pussy to follow her,” Yuji snorted from the couch.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo fired back. “Watch me.”

Everyone crowded around him—everyone except Nanami, who sat in the corner tuning his guitar and judging everyone in the room like a dad forced to chaperone toddlers.

“All of you need to stop,” Nanami muttered. “We have a set to rehearse.”

Sukuna slapped his shoulder as he passed. “Chill out, man. You’ll get your turn with her too.”

He walked off laughing, ducking his head as he peeked at Gojo typing.

“follow her, pussy!” Sukuna barked.

Then the whole bus joined in.

“Follow her, follow her, FOLLOW HER!”

The walls were shaking with their chanting until Gojo slammed his thumb down and followed you back on there official account. He shot to his feet.

“Now who’s the pussy?”

Suguru doubled over laughing. Gojo stuck out his tongue like a child. Sukuna wheezed. Choso even chuckled.

Nanami just rubbed his temple, regretting his entire career.

Ever since that night—the first show you attended—they hadn’t shut up about you. Every single one of them.

And as much as Nanami hated to admit it… sometimes he joined in.

Suguru lounged back in his chair, hoodie and sweats, spinning his pick between his fingers.

“I’m telling you,” he laughed, “she was cuter than her friend.”

Satoru leaned on the desk. “Both were cute, but yeah—she had a vibe.”

“What? That she wasn’t a deranged fan?” Suguru smirked.

Nanami snorted under his breath.

Toji chimed in from across the room. “Yeah, while you two were flirting, me and Choso had front-row seats to all that shit.”

Choso looked up from his drums, deadpan.

Toji crossed his arms. “Then Ken ran onto the bus like his ass was on fire.”

Nanami glanced up. “We had to leave for the next city.”

Gojo smirked at Toji. “Don’t act like you would’ve talked to her. You were too busy smoking your lungs dry.”

Toji grabbed Gojo by the shirt. “What the hell did you say?”

“Fight, fight, kiss!” Sukuna yelled as he walked in, bass over his shoulder.

Everyone cracked up—even Nanami.

Toji dropped Gojo with a scoff, turning to Sukuna. “Where the hell have you been for four hours?”

“My business,” Sukuna said, shrugging off his bass.

Suguru spun in his chair. “Business as in… fucking?”

Nanami even laughed at that one.

Sukuna glared. “Sorry I’m not acting like the rest of you, getting my dick wet over this girl you’re all obsessed with.”

Gojo barked a laugh. “Don’t act like you weren’t eyeing her. We all saw your little stunt.”

Choso lifted his gaze. “Satoru’s not wrong.”

Sukuna turned on him. “And you’re one to talk—you almost broke your damn drums slamming those sticks.”

“Oooooohhhh—” Gojo sang.

“SHUT IT!” Sukuna roared.

Silence.

He grabbed his lighter and headed for the door.

“I’m going to smoke. Can’t deal with you idiots.”

Door slam.

Suguru snorted. “We hit a nerve.”

Toji smirked. “He talked about her all the way here. Fucking narc.”

Sukuna lit his cigarette, exhaling into the cold night. “Fucking assholes,” he muttered.

The door creaked open. Choso stepped out.

Sukuna’s lip curled. “What the hell do you want?”

“To smoke,” Choso said simply, pulling out his own cigarette.

“I’m not lighting that for you.”

Choso just stood there.

Waiting.

Staring.

Sukuna groaned and flicked his lighter open. “You’re annoying.”

Choso inhaled deeply, smoke curling from his mouth.

They stood in silence.

Sukuna finally broke. “So… what do you think of her?”

Choso blinked. “Who?”

Sukuna bumped his shoulder. “Don’t play dumb.”

Choso cracked a smile. “She’s cool. But none of us even talked to her except Suguru and Satoru.”

Sukuna stayed silent.

Choso sighed, exhaling smoke. “It’s all lust until they actually know her.”

Sukuna nodded but didn’t say a word. He flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it.

“She is bad though,” he added, grinning.

Choso laughed. Sukuna pushed his shoulder. “Come on. Practice.”

He walked inside, letting the door fall shut behind him.

Choso stayed there one more second, inhaling. Thinking.

Thinking about you.

About how you looked at him. About how you noticed him.

He dropped his cigarette and crushed it, then finally went back inside.

The band wasn’t taking a single break—one song crashed straight into the next.

By the time the opening chords hit, you realized this was already the last one.

You were a little bummed… and also a little guilty.

You hadn’t taken a single photo or video for Nobara.

So you finally pulled out your phone.

Holding it sideways with both hands, you moved your hips to the tempo, trying to get a good angle.

Gojo noticed immediately.

Of course he did.

His eyes snapped right to the glint of your screen, and his whole expression changed—mischief.

He wanted to put on a show for you.

And he did.

He started roaming the stage, touching fans’ hands like he always did, pretending he wasn’t slowly making his way toward you with a plan.

Then he reached you.

He ignored your camera completely and stared straight at you instead.

You barely had time to react before he leaned down and gently slid your phone right out of your hands.

He ended your recording, flipped the camera, and started singing into your phone like it was his personal spotlight.

People around you SCREAMED.

Phones shot up in the air. Girls were losing their minds hoping he’d take theirs too.

Your face burned as he moved from member to member.

He pointed your phone at Suguru first.

Suguru grinned into the camera with that lazy half-smile before taking your phone, letting Gojo return to the mic stand and wink at the crowd like it was scripted.

Fans were practically jumping.

Suguru took your phone to Toji next—Toji dragged his fingers over his guitar strings and stuck his tongue out at the lens right before

Sukuna shoved in beside him, dragging his fingers dramatically along his bass like he was trying to steal the moment.

Suguru rolled his eyes mid-verse, laughing into the mic before taking the phone and passing it to Nanami.

Nanami gave the softest, quickest smile and went right back to playing, like he didn’t want to break rhythm.

Then Suguru moved to Choso.

Choso didn’t just smile—he lit up. He started slamming his drumsticks down, yelling over the music,

“Leave the phone on my stand!”

Suguru shrugged and propped your phone up on Choso’s drum stand, camera facing him. Then he walked back to center stage… without your phone.

Your brows knit together. Before you could panic, a girl beside you screamed,

“GIRL—YOUR PHONE IS WITH CHOSO!”

You snapped your head up.

Choso was staring straight at the phone, smiling like it was a secret between you two… before whipping his head to the side and drumming like a man possessed.

His arms flexed, veins popping, sweat rolling down his forearms. He closed his eyes and just let go, hands moving so fast it made you dizzy.

You tried to enjoy the moment—really—but your stomach kept dropping. The song was ending. Your phone was still on stage.

Lights strobed. The last chords hit—Nanami’s guitar, Sukuna’s bass.

Then Gojo yelled into the mic:

“That was our last song! Thank you! Black Lantern is OUT!”

The curtains closed.

Your heart fell straight through the floor.

Your phone.

Your fucking phone.

You shoved through the crowd immediately.

“Sorry—excuse me—sorry!” Sweat, elbows, bodies everywhere. You made it outside and tried not to look like someone seconds away from a crisis.

You ran around the building until you finally spotted a back exit. You walked toward it, breathless, just as it swung open.

The band spilled out laughing.

Gojo chatting with Suguru.

Toji running a hand through his hair.

Sukuna muttering something to Toji with an annoyed face.

Nanami was last. And he had your phone in his hand.

“My phone,” you blurted.

All of them turned.

Nanami looked down, then up—eyes widening just a fraction when he saw you up close. Your dewy skin, your skirt, your flushed cheeks from running.

“Oh—sorry. Here.” He handed it over gently.

You smiled, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I just—I thought I’d miss you guys.”

Toji glanced at Sukuna. Sukuna subtly elbowed him out of the way so he ended up beside Nanami, towering over you.

“You’re Y/N, right?” Sukuna said, voice rough.

“Yeah… and you’re…?” His eyes widened—then you laughed.

“I’m joking. I know who you are. Ryomen, right?”

He huffed a laugh. “Yeah.”

Up close, he couldn’t help it—your voice, your grin, your energy. You were even cuter in person.

“How’d you like the show?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest.

Your eyes dropped immediately.

Holy shit his arms.

Veins everywhere.

And up close, his pink hair almost matched—

Yeah.

You caught a glimpse of his happy trail.

He noticed your eyes lingering and chuckled.

You snapped back up. “It was really good. The venue was just… small.”

He nodded as Nanami slipped quietly onto the bus.

Sukuna thought it was funny—he’d spent half the show getting annoyed that the others noticed you. And now he was the one flirting.

“You wanna meet everyone? Like—properly. Not just those two clowns?” he said as Gojo waved dramatically.

“Hey, pretty!” Gojo yelled.

You waved back, cheeks burning.

Sukuna shot Gojo a death glare before turning to you again.

“C’mon. We’ve got fifteen minutes before we leave.” He paused. “Unless your boyfriend’s waiting.”

You laughed.

Hard.

His brows pulled together.

“No boyfriend here.”

He dragged a hand over his mouth. “Even better. C’mon.”

You followed him up the steps.

“Ladies first,” he murmured behind you.

You climbed up, your skirt lifting just enough that Sukuna licked his lips.

Inside, every band member looked at you. Your heart pounded.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Toji said as he walked over.

Sukuna stood right behind you, basically blocking Toji’s view of your lower back.

You smiled. “It’s really nice in here.”

The posters, the lounge area, the tiny kitchen—everything looked lived-in but warm.

Toji grinned. “Wanna see something even nicer?”

You nodded without thinking.

“Follow me doll.”

All of them watched Toji whisk you away, Sukuna huffing like a pissed guard dog.

Toji led you toward the back lounge, his hand coming to rest dangerously low on your waist as he guided you through the narrow bus aisle. His palm was huge and warm, his fingers spreading across your hip like he had every right to touch you like that.

Toji led you toward the back lounge, his hand coming to rest dangerously low on your waist as he guided you through the narrow bus aisle. His palm was huge and warm, his fingers spreading across your hip like he had every right to touch you like that.

“You ever held a real guitar?” he asked over his shoulder.

You shook your head, your voice caught in your throat.

“No.”

“Good.”

He smirked. “Means I get to teach you.”

The lounge was dim, lit by the soft yellow glow from the tiny overhead lights.

A few of the guys’ instrument cases lay open on the couch.

Toji reached for his black electric guitar—heavy, sleek, and definitely expensive—and set it across his lap.

Then he leaned back and patted his thigh.

“Right here.”

You blinked.

“On your—?”

“On my leg,” he repeated, slow and teasing. “C’mon. Don’t be shy now.”

You moved closer hesitantly. Your breathing was shallow, your stomach fluttering.

You were halfway through lowering yourself gingerly onto the very edge of his knee—

Toji didn’t let you.

Large hands slid around your waist, and in one smooth pull he brought you fully onto his thigh, seating you flush against him.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You grabbed onto his shoulder instinctively, feeling the solid strength under your palm.

“See?” he murmured, his breath brushing your cheek. “Fits just right, like I knew it would.”

Your face burned.

He lifted your hands and placed them on the guitar’s body, guiding your fingers like he’d done it a thousand times.

His hands were warm—almost too warm—and he kept them on yours a little longer than necessary.

“This is where you hold it,” he said, leaning in until his lips were near your ear. “Not here.”

He slid your hand an inch lower.

“Here’s better. Feels steadier, yeah?”

You nodded, unable to speak.

He chuckled softly—low and appreciative—before adjusting your posture again. His thigh flexed under you, and you felt every bit of it.

But behind you, another presence was building.

You could feel Sukuna staring first.

Then you heard him scoff under his breath from across the bus.

Toji smirked without looking up.

“He’s watching,” he whispered, lips curling. “Good.”

His proximity made it impossible to ignore the way his arm pressed against you, the heat of his body, and you couldn’t help but glance down.

Noticing the curve of his arm and the way his muscles flexed as he adjusted your hands.

Your heart was racing, your breath shallow, as Toji’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “See? That wasn’t so bad.”

Noticing the curve of his arm and the way his muscles flexed as he adjusted your hands.

You froze.

Sukuna pushed off the counter and walked over, slow and irritated like each step annoyed him more. His jaw was tight, tattoos catching the dim light, his bass slung over one shoulder.

Toji tightened his grip on your waist deliberately, pulling you closer onto his thigh—as if claiming a spot.

Sukuna stopped in front of you two.

“Well?” Sukuna said, voice low. “You done hogging her?”

Toji shrugged lazily.

“Nah. She seems comfortable.”

“I’m not asking,” Sukuna muttered.

Before you could react, Sukuna hooked two fingers into the waistband of your skirt touching your skin under your waistband, close enough to make your breath hitch—and pulled you off Toji and toward him.

Your hands flew to Sukuna’s chest for balance.

Toji actually stood up halfway like he might swing. He shifted you gently but firmly onto his thigh, tilting you slightly so you faced him.

Your hadn’t wore shorts under your skirt and Sukuna knew—only because he looked up your skirt when you walked onto the bus.

And maybe because he could see your ass on his thigh, which was making him way more excited then he would like to attempt.

Your hands trembled slightly as Sukuna’s hands covered yours, strong, guiding, brushing over your skin just enough to make your knees weak.

His chest pressed lightly against yours, the heat from his body making your heart hammer.

His pink hair brushed your temple as his presence enveloped you, and you could feel the almost tangible tension between him and Toji.

Toji growled softly, pacing slightly behind you, clearly struggling not to grab you back. Sukuna noticed and smirked, leaning in closer.

“Hand on yours,” he whispered, guiding your other hand so both of your hands were in his. “Fucking natural, atta girl.”

Your stomach dropped hearing the praise as you laughed and followed his lead.

Every move Sukuna made was teasing, possessive, claiming this moment for himself.

You gasped slightly as he leaned just a bit more, lips brushing your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

Your skirt rode up a little more, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes briefly flicked down, though his voice remained low and intimate.

“See? Much better when I do it,” he murmured, and your breath hitched.

Toji’s hands flexed at his sides, muttering under his breath, and Sukuna only laughed, low and dangerous.

As his nose brushed against your temple just a fraction longer before finally letting you go… just as Nanami’s calm voice cut through the tension.

Nanami approached, hands in his pockets, expression neutral.

“We leave in 5,” he said politely.

You glanced between Toji and Sukuna, both standing near, eyes flicking toward you like they weren’t finished.

He paused. “I’ll walk you. Just to make sure you get through safely.”

He said it so simply—so neutrally—that it almost sounded believable.

Except everyone knew it wasn’t.

Toji smirked knowingly.

Sukuna rolled his eyes.

Choso tapped his drumstick twice, like he was calling bullshit.

And Nanami absolutely knew that you knew…

but still, you nodded.

“Yeah. That’s fine.”

Before you stepped off the bus, Suguru appeared from the hallway with something in his hand.

“Here.”

He handed you a shiny backstage pass. “Next show. Free.”

Your eyes lit up. “Wait—could I maybe get one more? My friend would—”

Gojo immediately stuck his head out of the kitchen area.

“Sorry, gorgeous, we only got one!”

He winked, way too dramatically.

You tried not to look disappointed. “No, it’s okay. Really thank you.”

Nanami guided you out of the bus, walking beside you like a quiet shield.

When you were out of earshot, the second the door closed—

Sukuna turned his head toward Suguru.

“You know damn well you had another pass.”

Suguru shrugged, leaning back casually against the counter.

“Yeah,” he said, smirking. “But then someone else would’ve brought her next time.”

Sukuna paused.

Suguru raised a brow.

“Figured you’d prefer if she came alone.”

Sukuna didn’t answer.

He just clicked his tongue and looked away, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him—

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Lazy Sunday afternoon

I've got no mind to worry

Close my eyes and drift away-a