Can I Request A Fic Where Someone Else Confesses To Reader Infront Of Megumi? How Would He React Thank

Tagged - @quinnyundertow, @pweewee

A/N - This is a part 2 to this piece!

Word Count - 0.9k

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.  

Shit. 

< … > 

"Let her go," he says, willing his voice to be firm, but it falls short. He knows that he must sound absolutely pathetic in comparison to what he wants, but words were his only weapon.  

He couldn't clench his fists and fight – not when it was you. 

"So desperate. This little body must mean worlds to you, am I right brat?"  

Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, staring into your eyes and wondering if somehow, you're staring back at him. He hopes that you're there somewhere, and wherever you were, he could reach you. 

He just needed to stall for long enough to make that happen.  

"Just let her go," Yuuji begs, taking a brave step forward. You … or rather Sukuna … takes a step away from him, creating distance that only shoves Yuuji's heart further down into his stomach. "You can do whatever you want, but just don't--" 

"You dare order me around? I spared you," Sukuna growls, tipping your head upward so that you could glare down your nose at Yuuji. He gulps, the coldness of your eyes such a foreign sight.  

"You said that … that you wouldn't do anything to hurt her," Yuuji recalls, desperation seeping into his tone as he takes another step towards Sukuna. Sukuna retaliates by forcing your body backward again. 

"When was I ever known to keep such meaningless promises?" Sukuna curls your lips upward into a smirk, tilting your head to the side and watching as Yuuji's face pales.  

Suddenly, your body contorts, your right hand curling into a white-knuckled fist that you promptly ram into your chest. Sukuna coughs, tilting your head down to glance at where your fist had connected with your chest.  

Yuuji watches in shock – watches as your right fist reels back again, this time connecting with your cheek. Again, Sukuna splutters, legs buckling slightly under the force with which you had punched up into your own face.  

"(Y/N)?" he mutters to himself, tilting his head. Sukuna, or rather you, jerk your head towards Yuuji. For a split second, just a singular split second, he can see that flicker of warmth that was just purely you.  

"That brat is … damn it," Sukuna snarls, nose crinkling in both frustration and disgust. He reaches your left hand towards your right, curling your fingers around your wrist and roughly tugging it downward.  

Somewhere in the darkness, you clench your hands into fists, operating blindly. This was your body. 

“Fucking brat!” Sukuna suddenly yells, your fingers losing grip over your own wrist. Your left hand releases your right, and once again, your fist connects with your cheek.  

Yuuji watches, eyes widening as the realization of what you were doing slowly seeps in. He has been right — you were still somewhere in there. 

“(Y/N)!” Yuuji yells out, bravely sprinting from his place and locking his arms around your waist, ignoring Sukuna’s vicious yells of protest. He tugs your back flush against his chest, closing his eyes and ignoring the pain that erupts in his chest as Sukuna forces you to squirm in Yuuji's hold. 

"Unhand me!" Sukuna shouts, kicking out one of your legs in the hopes that it would loosen Yuuji's grip. It doesn't. 

Your right hand trembles before shooting upward, palm covering your eyes and gripping tightly onto your temples. Sukuna lets out a frustrated shout, lips pulling back in an angered snarl. 

"C'mon (Y/N), c'mon," Yuuji whispers pleadingly, digging his heels into the ground and tightening his grip. Your body trembles for a moment, shaking against him before falling completely limp. "(Y/N)!" 

"And just what makes you think that you can take this body back?" Sukuna tilts his head at you, circling you like a lion would its prey. Calculating red eyes narrow at you, pupils narrowed into snake-like slits as you stare helplessly back at the King of Curses.  

"I won't let you--" 

"You won't let me what? You do understand how absolutely powerless you are in comparison to me, don't you?" Sukuna barks out a laugh, roughly taking hold of your face and forcing your gaze upon him.  

Your eyes water at the sudden pressure applied to your skin, body shaking as Sukuna lowers his face to be inches from yours – nose to nose.  

"I'll kill him with your hands," Sukuna smirks at you, relishing in the expression of horror that falls over your face. He bites back the rising laugh in his throat, instead releasing his hold on your face.  

You stare helplessly, lowering your head and staring down at your hands. Sukuna bends, kneeling in front of you and tilting his head.  

"What'll it be?" 

"(Y/N) …?" Yuuji murmurs, hands cradling either side of your face. He blinks back the tears in his eyes, staring down at your face and smiling as your eyes flicker to meet his own. His lips part to greet you again, eyes already crinkling at the corners.  

The marks on your face and wrists haven't … haven't faded.  

"(Y/N) …?" Yuuji whispers again, watching as you remove yourself from his lap and rise to your feet. Your back turns to him, then your head tilts to catch a glance of him from over your shoulder.  

Your lips curl upward into a smirk, eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing together. "(Y/N) is gone …" 

Yuuji's eyes widen, heart sinking as he too rises to his feet. His hands go slack as he stares at you.  

" … brat." 

HEHE if y'all want an alternate ending please let me know, but I had so much fucking fun writing this! 

Hi 👋

Can u write Yuta, Gojo, Kokichi, and Noritoshi (the student) with a fem s/o who's very calm,quiet, and scary in public bcz of their scars and muscular body but when they are alone she's very sweet and shy :)

Make it fluff, and it's up to you if u wanna make it headcanons or whatever :)

Sypnosis - How would these boys fare with an S/O who doesn't look the most approachable at times?

Includes - Yuuta Okkotsu, Satoru Gojo, Kokichi Muta, Noritoshi Kamo

Warning(s) - none besides mention of scarring on Reader

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

You were not exactly known to have a friendly face or an approachable person – avoided by many in most social settings thanks to the deep furrow of your brow and the frown that curls the corners of your mouth downward. Though you could be doing something as simple as thinking about what to prepare for dinner that night, your exterior displayed a deep anger for any and all that surrounded you.  

You had built up walls that were borderline impenetrable … that is … until he steps into your life.  

YUUTA OKKOTSU  

Like many, at first, Yuuta was intimidated by you. You carried yourself in such a way that made it seem as if you were uninterested in everyone around you – which included him when he first transferred to Jujutsu Tech. 

Even Gojo seemed hesitant to introduce you, gesturing to you quickly with a wave of his hand before doing his absolute best to change the subject without it being noticed by you, Yuuta, or any of the other second-years.  

One of the first things that Yuuta notices about you is the thin scars that line your arms, little stories of the missions that you had been on and reminders of the curses that you had defeated.  

In truth, your appearance only adds to the mysterious, intimidating persona that you seemed to have adopted — one that deeply scared others and continuously drove them away from you.  

Initially, it seems like the only person that you tolerate is Maki, considering that she’s the only one that you show a sliver of emotion to. She’s the only one that you offer a soft smile to, the only one that you regard without that sharpened ice in your voice, the only one that you really showed that you were … well … human.  

The other second-years had your favor as well; Yuuta quite enjoyed watching you train with Panda or playfully argue with Inumaki. He just wished that he had the courage to do what they did — which essentially was just talking to you.  

It’s only really with Panda’s pushing that Yuuta eventually builds up enough courage to approach you, hesitantly asking if you’d wanted to spar with him (Maki was preoccupied with Inumaki). Shockingly, you smiled softly at him and accepted.  

The rest was, quite literally, history.  

Little by little, Yuuta makes his way over the walls that you had built up around your heart, soft eyes and gentle smile worming its way into your life without any intent of ever leaving.  

He begins to realize that the way you acted with him was a complete 180 to how you acted around others. You regarded him with a soft tone, you touched him with gentle palms, you cooed sweet praises to him and hugged him tightly on those cold nights. 

You may be a force to be reckoned with out on the field, but to Yuuta? You were the soft-spoken girl that he devoted his entire heart to.  

SATORU GOJO 

At first, Gojo doesn’t want to think that he finds you intimidating. He tries to be nonchalant when he sees you standing beside Nanami, but you don’t miss the way that his eyes flicker around the room — desperately trying to look anywhere but where you stand.  

His gaze is drawn to your scars almost immediately, slightly impressed at the fact that you do very little to hide them. In any other case, he would say that you were proud of them (at least, that’s what he thought).  

But, ever the confident man, Gojo does eventually decide to approach you (literally the second that Nanami leaves the room). He tries to crack a joke or two, hoping that you would break and that maybe you would crack a smile. You don’t … and he physically deflates. 

That does very little to actually deter him though. Actually, he makes it his personal mission to make his way over the walls that you’ve so obviously put up around your heart. While everyone else would find his actions downright annoying, you find them oddly endearing.  

It’s rare that someone takes such an interest in you, considering that the aura you radiated was really anything but initially friendly. To see Gojo try so hard to capture your attention … well, it only makes you that much more interested in just why he was so dead set on you.  

Eventually, Gojo finally finds it in himself to properly ask you out — in his very own Satoru Gojo way. A bouquet of overpriced roses, a night at a resturant with pricing that could probably pay your mortgage, and a sweet walk that ended with Gojo hopelessly devoting himself to you.  

He adores the change in your personality — how you can easily switch from sternly speaking to your students to mumbling to him as if he were the only thing in your world that mattered.  

But that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t also love the firm persona you take on when you’re, for example, out for a day together.  

He adores you … always and forever. 

KOKICHI MUTA  

Unlike the others, Kokichi isn’t immediately put off by your appearance. If anything, he’s intrigued by it. In a way, you remind him of himself; kept to yourself and separated from others — it makes him want to interact with you right at that moment.  

He won’t ever admit it to your face, but the first time that he did end up speaking to you, he was quite literally shaking under your gaze. You were just so damn assertive. 

At first, you come off as very bothered by Kokichi – but he quickly learns that it's the complete opposite. Just because you were this scarred, unapproachable individual didn't make you any less human than Kokichi himself.  

Slowly but surely, he makes his way over those walls that you had built up around your heart, opening you up and revealing that softened persona that lay hidden underneath it all. The sweet-eyed, soft-spoken girl who really wanted nothing more than to love and be loved in return.  

Upon coming to that realization, Kokichi finds himself gentler with you – just like you were with him. His words are soft-spoken and truthful, his actions performed out of the kindness of his heart rather than if the situation called for it.  

All in all, Kokichi feels a sense of protectiveness over you once you finally open yourself up to him. You were being vulnerable with him in a way that you simply weren't around others. And he was going to protect that vulnerability, no matter what it took.  

NORITOSHI KAMO 

Out of all the previously mentioned characters, Noritoshi is the one who minds the least about your appearance. If anything, he finds himself relating to you — considering that many don’t approach him as well for various reasons.  

And so because of that, he approaches you with as much confidence as he could muster, striking up a conversation with you and regarding you just as softly and respectfully as he would anyone else.  

You’re caught off guard by him at first, though slowly but surely, you and Noritoshi constantly seek the other out.  

He admires your ability to switch between being stoic and cold to soft and sweet. How around others you wore an expression as cold as the harshest winter, but the moment that you heard the lull of his voice, you were turning to him with a gentle smile.  

Noritoshi admires your scars actually, spending many nights just laying at your side with his fingertips dragging over the raised skin. He’ll hum a quiet song for the both of you, holding you and simply moving his fingers along your arm or leg.  

Another thing that Noritoshi adores about you is the way you whisper to him during your time spent together — how you lower and soften your voice when speaking to him. He smiles gently at you when he notices, then holding your face and decorating your face with little kisses.  

He doesn't mind your switch from soft to stoic, he knows that it's just what you're used to and it's become the norm for you. To him, you're still his lover, his absolute everything -- no matter what persona you decide to put on for the day. 

Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!

What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)

But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...

(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)

-🍰

Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst

Word Count - 3.1k

A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.  

And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”. 

How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.  

The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?  

Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.  

To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.  

But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.  

“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch. 

Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.  

“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person. 

“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure. 

“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s. 

The two shake on it, and the bet is made. 

But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you. 

And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.  

For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.  

Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.  

< … > 

“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair. 

You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.  

“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.” 

Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.  

“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.  

“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.  

“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest. 

“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.” 

You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him. 

“Yes please!” 

< … > 

“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.  

Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.  

“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.” 

“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses. 

“So then why the sudden comment?” 

“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.  

He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you? 

Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.  

“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true. 

“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms. 

He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him. 

“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.  

“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.  

“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.  

He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face. 

“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.  

“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.  

Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.  

“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball. 

“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.  

“Sure it won’t.” 

< … > 

Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you? 

READ 

Satoru? 

READ 

I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here! 

DELIVERED 

Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.  

You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.  

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.  

Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste. 

< … >  

“Sato—“ 

You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.  

“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.  

Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.  

“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.  

“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now. 

“Tired?” 

“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.  

You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves. 

Had he felt that way about you the whole time? 

“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.  

“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.  

Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.  

Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.  

"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.  

"We're fucked." 

< ... >  

"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--" 

"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.  

She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window. 

Not that there was much respect there in the first place.  

"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.  

"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)." 

You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.  

You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you? 

"Hey." 

You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.  

She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.  

"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.  

"Can we stay in instead?"  

Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.  

"Yeah, of course we can." 

< ... >  

"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.  

He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.  

Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.  

"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.  

"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage. 

Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out? 

"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?" 

"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.  

"I don't--" 

"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.  

His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.  

She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.  

"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up. 

< ... >  

Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.  

In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.  

"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--" 

You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.  

And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.  

Here's a little Nanami snippet to munch on while I write a much bigger piece.

“Ah, there you are. What are you doing out here my love?” 

You lift your head, turning just enough to cast a glance over your shoulder — then met with the sight of Nanami standing in the open doorframe of one of Jujutsu Tech’s many buildings. In his hands is one of his jackets, one that you no doubt would have draped over your shoulders the moment that he approached you.  

You don’t answer him, opting instead to listen to the soft patter of the rain that you had been so attentively listening to just moments before.  

“Jus’ admiring the rain,” you answer after a beat of silence, turning back to stare out at the outdoor grounds of Jujutsu High. Your lips turn upward at the sight of a few students walking about, their jackets tugged over their heads to prevent themselves from getting wet.  

Nanami hums, taking a step forward. Just as you had predicted, he lays the jacket over your shoulders, then lowering himself to sit down at your side. 

Your body shifts closer to him, like a magnet drawn to its opposite. Your cheek leans against his shoulder, with his arm lifting and coming to rest over your shoulders, holding you against his side.  

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Nanami inquires after a pause, tilting his head so that his cheek rests comfortably against the top of your head.  

You chuckle breathily, eyes fluttering shut as your body soaks up the warmth that radiates off of Nanami.  

“Nothing, just thinking of how pretty the rain is,” you murmur in response. Now it’s Nanami’s turn to chuckle, a deep rumble that brings a light pink tint to your cheeks.  

Not nearly as pretty as you, he thinks, still holding you tightly against him.  

do you do nsfw fics? if u do, can you do suguru x male reader where the reader is dom, plus aftercare stuff !! i haven't seen very many :((

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - foul language, straight smut, Geto being a whiny bitch (canon btw)

A/N - I've never written a male reader before so if I fucked anything up I beg you to please let me know.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Too much — fuck!” Geto’s back arches, his chest rising and falling in heaving breaths. He had cum — what — three or four times? And yet you were relentless, bending to whisper into his ear to give you ‘just one more’. His whimpers were sweet, whiny little sounds that only made you rut harder into him.  

His head falls back against the pillow, teary eyes flickering downwards to watch as your hand curls around his cock — which is already covered in a mixture of his cum and your own. You flick your thumb over his tip, collecting any of the leftovers and smearing it down his length, chuckling breathily as he cries out. 

“C’mon baby,” you sink your teeth into your bottom lip, swallowing your own groans as you slow your movements, smirking at the whine that falls from Geto’s lips. For a moment, you admire the fucked out expression that your boyfriend wears; his eyes that are glossy with tears, his lips that are parted with little lines of drool dribbling down his chin, his rosy cheeks.  

Geto whimpers, pressing his lips together in an attempt to conceal the sound. Your eyes narrow, and meanly, you thrust back into him without warning. He moans, legs wrapping around your waist and pulling you further into him, wanting to feel you deeper.  

“I’m — fuck — cumming!” Geto groans, his back arching completely off of the bed as thin ropes of cum shoot from his tip, falling over his abdomen. He whines, leaning back into the sheets and twitching from the aftershocks of his orgasm — the fifth of the night.  

His chest rises and falls in heaving breaths, a whine falling from his lips as you gently pull out of him, rocking back on your heels and tilting your head to admire your work.  

Geto’s hair is an absolute mess, long thickened strands messily strewn about — long gone was the bun that he had worn when he first got to your shared apartment. His arm lays over his eyes, lips still parted as he works to catch his breath. His neck is covered in hickeys and love bites, all courtesy of you. His hips are only slightly bruised — but he wouldn’t mind the ache come morning.  

“You alright?” you ask him gently, smoothing your thumbs over his hips and gazing at him. He only whines in response. You smile again, lovingly squeezing his hips before making your way into the bathroom, taking one of the hand towels that you had left by the sink.  

You turn on the faucet, running it beneath slightly warmed water before bending to the bathtub and beginning to fill it.  

Once back in the bedroom, you run the towel over Geto’s body, being careful around his cock and abused hole. He jolts at the warmth, glancing at you — but quickly lays back down as he realizes that you’re only cleaning him up.  

You chuck the towel into the nearby hamper, crawling to lay at Geto’s side while the bathtub is being filled. You open your arms to him, smiling sweetly as he nestles into them, his head easily tucking into the crook of your neck and his legs entangling with your own.  

“Didn’t go too rough with you, did I?” you murmur into his hair, pressing featherlight kisses against his hairline. Geto hums against you, shaking his head and pressing himself further into you, his nose inhaling your scent as if trying to memorize it.  

"Nah," he responds breathily, shimmying out of your hold just enough to gaze lovingly up at you. You smile, laying your palm against his cheek and wiping the stray tears that cling to his bottom lash line. HE nuzzles into your hand, running his thumb over the backs of your knuckles. "Felt good." 

You chuckle at him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. Your head turns, remembering that you had left the tub running. "Here, let's get you cleaned, yeah?" 

Geto whines in disappointment, but allows you to help him into the bathroom, shoulder against your chest as he sinks down into the warm water, sighing in content. You climb in behind him, circling your arms around his waist and tugging his back against your chest, smiling to yourself as he snuggles into you.  

Your fingers lightly intwine with his own, and you bring the back of his hand to your lips, pecking it gently. He smiles, tilting his head so that his smile is directed up at you.  

"What? Do I have something on my face?" Your smile widens as Geto chuckles, craning his neck to place a chaste kiss against your cheek. Your arms affectionately squeeze him, his body returning to its original position and snuggling against you.  

"No. Was just thinkin', that's all," Geto shrugs his shoulders indifferently, grinning to himself as you place featherlight kisses against the back of his neck. 

"I love you too y'know," you whisper against his skin. Geto smiles to himself, his hands squeezing the arms that are wrapped around his waist.  

"I know." 

JJK SMAU Requests!!

Hey everyone, I understand it’s been a very long time since I’ve uploaded a piece to this blog. But I thought I should try my hand at SMAUs, considering that they don’t take nearly as much time as writing and editing a full piece (for me anyway).

If you’d like, you can leave a request for any kind of SMAU that you’d like to see, I’m open to any and all suggestions.

- colonelarr0w

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Even him saying something as simple as your name had your heart fluttering -- it was something that he often teased you for.

He had noticed it early on in your relationship. How every time he uttered your name you would smile and scrunch your nose adorably, a light pink blush painting your cheeks.

And every time that he noticed, he would reach his fingers out, taking your chin and tilting it upward so that your gaze would lock with his own. No words were ever exchanged in those moments, not that either of you minded.

While still staring so lovingly at one another, Suguru would slot his lips against your own, his hands moving to hold your cheeks. His thumbs softly graze your skin, lips curling into a smile against your own as you press impossibly further into him.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

During those troubled nights when sleep just wouldn't come easily for you, you'd find yourself sneaking into Suguru's dorm in search of comfort; he would read to you.

Sometimes it was Jane Austen, sometimes it was a cheesy romance novel, or sometimes it would be a manga that Suguru borrowed from Satoru.

To you, it didn't really matter what it was. Just hearing Suguru talk was comforting enough, how he gave emotion to the characters and made even the most boring stories sound somewhat interesting.

Laying against his chest with his fingers carding through your hair, Suguru would hold whatever book you picked out in his free hand, propped open on his fingers as he kept his voice soft. He didn't want you to be too awake after all.

And somehow, every single time without fail, you would end up asleep against his chest before he could even finish the chapter.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Hearing his tone change when talking to Satoru as opposed to when he spoke to you never failed to make you laugh. How even if Suguru was scolding Satoru for being reckless on a mission, the moment he laid eyes on you, his tone shifted.

"Honestly Satoru, one of these days your recklessness is going to get you kill -- (Y/N), there you are love."

It never failed to make you smile; how he never took a harsh tone with you and spoke to you as if you were the only person in the room.

And every time, without fail, Satoru would throw his arms up and dramatically complain.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

Even hearing it over the phone brought butterflies to your stomach. In the mornings, Suguru had made it a habit to call you if you didn't spend the night, wanting your voice to be the first thing that he heard as opposed to Satoru's obnoxious snoring. Curse the walls for being so thin.

Every time your phone went off in the morning, you would sleepily grin to yourself, accepting Suguru's call and feeling your heart flutter at his words. "G'morning baby."

You put your phone on speaker, laying it on the pillow beside your head and allowing your eyes to flutter shut again, wishing that Suguru was lying beside you.

"Good morning."

At your words, Suguru hums, silently loving the sleepy drawl to your voice. There was no doubt in his mind that you were stifling a yawn as you spoke, just another little quirk that only made Suguru fall harder and harder for you.

You'd always loved Suguru's voice. Even when he was telling you to leave. 

“Suguru?”  

The sound of your voice makes his heart ache, his eyebrows pinching together as his spine stiffens. He didn’t have the heart to turn to face you, not wanting to see the heartbroken expression plastered onto your face. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he saw it.  

Suguru sighs, closing his eyes for a moment before forcing himself to face you, keeping his eyes shut. Your eyebrows pinch together as he faces you, a concerned wrinkle indenting in your forehead.  

“Suguru — I just want to know what’s going on. What happened? Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you ask, mind spiraling as your vision blurs with unshed tears. All you want is to understand. All you want is to help him. 

“There’s nothing to talk about (Y/N),” Suguru answers plainly, finally opening his eyes. Immediately, he wishes that he hadn’t. Seeing you on the verge of tears, and knowing that he was the reason for it only added to the already heavy guilt weighing on his chest.  

“But there is,” you emphasize, taking a step forward and bravely wrapping your fingers around Suguru’s wrist. You tug at his sleeve lightly, forcing him to make eye contact with you — which he had been avoidant of since he turned to face you. “I’m here to help you Suguru.” 

Suguru shakes his head, removing his wrist from your grasp. Your lips part, wanting to say something more but not being able to think of the right words.  

“I don’t need help. Everything is—“ 

“I swear on everything, if you have the audacity to tell me that ‘everything is fine’, I will not hesitate to hit you,” you deadpan, eyes narrowing as you glare up at your boyfriend. He only stares blankly back at you, not daring to say a word now that he’d unintentionally angered you.  

“You can’t help me, even if you wanted to,” Suguru tells you, turning himself away from you again. Your chest tightens, tears threatening to fall from your bottom lash line as you stare at Suguru’s back. “Just go back to Jujutsu Tech.” 

“What?” 

Suguru feels his heart crack in his chest, ignoring his own tears as they begin to burn the backs of his eyes. Even at your single-worded response, he can’t find the strength to repeat himself.  

“Suguru,” you whisper, voice breaking. He screws his eyes shut, forcing himself to ignore your words. He hates himself, he hates himself for shutting you out, he hates himself for making you worry about him, he hates himself for deciding to leave you and everything that he had ever loved behind.  

“Goodbye (Y/N).” 

You shake your head, already taking a step towards him, fingers extended to grab onto him.  

But with a single sweep of the crowd that surrounds you, Suguru disappears. Your fingers shake, still hovering in the air in the hopes that you would magically grab onto him — but even you know that that won’t happen.  

You’d always loved Suguru’s voice.  Even when it wasn’t really him speaking to you. 

You can practically feel your heart in your throat at who stands in front of you. It was him — but at the same time it wasn’t.  

Everything about him was the same, down to the way that he styled his hair. His eyes were still that soft shade of brown that you adored gazing into. His lips still wear that same smile that had been flashed at you so lovingly.  

The only noticeable difference was the stitches circling his forehead. That was how you knew it wasn’t your Suguru, even though you wanted so desperately to believe otherwise. 

“(Y/N),” Satoru whispers, already reaching for you. You blink back the tears that build quickly in your eyes, feeling your breathing quicken as you stare at Suguru — if you could even use that name anymore. Satoru had only ever referred to him as ‘Geto’ following his departure from Jujutsu Tech.  

Geto only stares coldly at both you and Satoru, his eyes narrowing momentarily at you before he raises his hand. “A shame that you’re both distracted.” 

Your heart sinks. He sounds exactly the same as he did in your memory. He sounds exactly like how he did in every voicemail that you’d kept and listened to on repeat.  

Defiantly, you shake your head, ignoring the tremble in your bottom lip and forcing your hands to curl into white-knuckled fists.  

You’d never hated the sound of someone’s voice more.  

"My love, mine all mine"

JJK Characters as oddly specific romantic scenarios.

Contains -> Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

SATORU GOJO as randomly giving flowers.  

The action is unpredictable, unexpected — very similar to the unpredictable tendencies of the Special Grade. Gojo is never a one-trick pony, never does he want you to grow bored or tired of him (not that you ever will, obviously). Money did not matter to him, not when it came down to you. If a bouquet of flowers cost an arm and a leg, Gojo would gladly take a saw and get to work.  

If he happens to see a bouquet of flowers that would just look gorgeous on your desk, he’s throwing various bills at the florist and beelining for where he knows you’ll be. Gojo loves you, which is absolutely not a secret to anyone around him, and him randomly going out of his way to buy you flowers only reminds you of that bursting love that he has for you … and only you. And maybe, just maybe, he'll leave a small handwritten note with a scrawled declaration of just how much you mean to him.  

SUGURU GETO as admiring the rain. 

How serene and tranquil it is to just admire nature’s tears with Geto. Neither of you have to say anything, not that you want to — lest you want the loving silence to be tainted with whispered words. You don’t mind the silence, and nor does he. It's comfortable, peaceful, and it allows you both to momentarily forget about the world that you lived in. Instead, you could bask in the warmth that Geto emanates, clinging to it like a moth would cling to a light that they found.  

Geto’s arm is loosely draped over your waist, your side molding into his own like two pieces of a puzzle. Your head tucked against his shoulder, ears perked to listen to the rain’s gentle pattering. Geto’s fingers trace mindless shapes into your skin, content to sit in your presence. You carry with you a softness that Geto knew could never be replicated, reminding him that the things that have been done to him and by him are things long left in the past. For now, he could be Suguru – and he would only ever be Suguru around you.  

KENTO NANAMI as tying untied shoelaces.  

Late night walks where your shoes just won’t seem to cooperate. For as tight as the knots initially felt, they only loosened with each step you took. Even his steps had noticeably slowed to be in sync with your own, being sure to not accidentally leave you behind. Always attentive to you, reminding you that he loves you with a gentle squeeze to your fingers. The eyes behind his eyeglasses soften as you return his squeezes, but their softness is replaced then by a flicker of concern as you stumble, nearly rolling your ankle against the pavement.  

And so he pauses your walk, releasing the gentle grip he has on your hand and touching his knee to the ground. Fingers loop through the undone laces, expertly knotting them before softened eyes flicker up to your own. Your cheeks flush at the sheer adoration that swims in his eyes, your gaze flickering away from his own as a mumbled thanks falls from your lips. But he does not miss the curl of your lips – wearing that sweet smile that Nanami wishes that he could forever commit to memory. Nanami imagines an alternate scenario from his position, one where he holds silver and slips it onto your finger. Eventually… 

TOJI FUSHIGURO as late night drives.  

With gentle music and the soft rumble of the engine, it’s no wonder that you feel so incredibly safe sitting in the passenger seat of Toji’s (Shiu’s) car. Your hand rests on the back of Toji’s, which lays against your thigh — squeezing every few seconds in a silent ‘I love you’. His declaration spoken in a language that only you understand, one crafted for you and one used only when you were around.  

Your drives aren't known to have a set destination, just filled with senseless turns that never have a true end thought out. Many of them are silent, the car only filled with the sounds of your pre-prepared playlist of songs that both you and Toji enjoyed, but there are times where the car is filled with soft conversation recounting past experiences or simply reciting the day’s events. But one thing is for certain, only you could make the great Toji Fushiguro soft. 

CHOSO as shared routines.  

Your presence in Choso’s life has brought about notable changes to the course of his day — namely his routine and how he decides to spend the mornings and nights. What was once simply waking up and immediately moving about has now become remaining tangled in the sheets for five (sometimes ten) extra minutes. What was once a simple brushing of the teeth has now become a multi-step skincare routine and lengthy shower. 

His day just wouldn’t be the same without your shoulder brushing against his own as you both cleaned your teeth. It wouldn’t be the same without you brushing through his hair and styling it for him with the gentlest of hands. His nights wouldn’t be the same without your body against his in the bath, sponge rubbing away the day’s tension. And it certainly wouldn’t be the same without you wrapped in his arms, gentle snores fanning against his neck as you doze off — wrapped in the comfort of his embrace.  

RYOMEN SUKUNA as shared glances.  

They say that the eyes are the true window into the soul, detailing the true feelings of what resides within and bringing it forth in a discreet, almost unknown, manner. Fleeting glances can speak the same amount as a full-length conversation. Softened irises can shine with love and narrowed pupils can convey rage equivalent to that of a freshly sharpened dagger. Sukuna’s eyes were no exception to the rule — the love he held for you couldn’t be hidden behind pointed glares, not when they softened immediately upon finding you.  

The moment your eyes met his own, soft and gentle, something in him promptly melts. How funny that the King of Curses would find himself staring at you — a simple sorcerer — with crinkled eyes. Was he smiling? No, no he’d never admit to ever smiling, but the sight of you just brings one to his face so naturally. Your head turns so that your gaze meets his own, silently reading each other’s eyes before you smile at him. And though he wants so badly to scoff and turn the other way, for you … he returns it.  

HIROMI HIGURUMA as being picked up from work.  

It was no secret that there were creeps lining the streets of the city, prowling around underneath the cloak that night provided and waiting for the best opportunity to strike. Wandering around at night, while not inherently dangerous, did not sit well in the stomach of Hiromi. He knew that you were able to handle yourself well, you were no stranger to defending yourself in situations where you needed to – but he still could not quell the pit of worry that bubbled in the pit of his chest whenever you were kept late at your office.  

And so, to keep a sound mind, Hiromi would wait outside the double doors of your office building, smiling against your hair as your body molds into his own. His nose nestles itself into your hair, inhaling the familiarity of your scent – a soft mixture of lavender and rose. The hug lasts for as long as you need it to, broken only when you decide to take a step back. The passenger side door to Hiromi's car is then opened for you, your hand is held as you step inside, and a kiss is pressed to your cheek all before the door shuts.  

INO TAKUMA as sharing food.  

Relationships are meant to be 50/50, an even split that ensures that one party does not contribute more or less to the relationship than the other. To say that Ino believes in balance in his relationship with you would be the understatement of the century – he never wants you to feel as if you're doing too much or that he's doing too little for you. Ino also believes very heavily in sharing everything with you; personal stories, clothes, drinks, and of course, food.  

Never will he order the same thing as you, knowing that at one point or another, you'd try whatever snack or meal he had ordered for himself. Your eyes would flicker to his plate or to the ice cream in his hand, then to his eyes, silently asking permission. With a smile akin to that of a lovesick teenager, Ino extends whatever it is that he's eating to you, feeling his heart warm at the sound of your satisfied hum. You kiss his cheek in thanks before offering him whatever it was that you had ordered. Rinse and repeat, and suddenly you're both sharing two meals as opposed to enjoying one for yourself – and neither of you would change it for the world.  

YUUJI ITADORI as stargazing.  

Something about the silence that night provides paired with the gentle light that the stars in the night sky had always been so calming for you, always carrying with it a sense of serenity that could only be replicated by something as soft as a mother's love or a hug. And like a moth drawn to a light, you found yourself admiring those very stars every single night – now you had someone to share that peace with, someone to bask in the warm light that the stars provided.  

Laid out over a blanket, two pairs of eyes watch the twinkling stars with a fascination only replicated by that of a child. For a moment the world is silent, filled only with the sounds of your breathing and Yuuji's. His hand is intwined with yours, thumb rubbing back and forth against the backs of your knuckles. Your cheek is against his shoulder, both your eyes and his shut in complete serenity. Those are the nights where you can just be children, as in reality, it is what you both are.  

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO as interlocking pinkies.  

Not everyone is affectionate, not everyone is able to easily convey their love through prolonged physical touches such as a hug or a passionate kiss. Certain love languages come easily to some people, but to others it may be a touch more difficult. Some convey it through words, others convey it through actions that are a little more hidden, secretive. Megumi, for as quiet as he is, falls into the secretive category when it comes to displaying his love for you.  

He loves you, hell, he would devote himself to you entirely if given the chance, he just finds it a touch difficult to display that love for you through means of physical touch. That does not mean he won't hug you or indulge in your kisses, it just means that he may not be the one to initiate those actions. But there is an exception to this little rule, and that is the fact that Megumi will always link his pinkie with your own when walking on your side. The smile that worms its way onto his face the moment that his skin touches yours is missed by everyone, but never ever will it be missed by you – and to him, you are all that matters anyway.  

Fix You

Sypnosis - You'd only known her for a flicker of a moment, but in that moment she had become everything to you. To have her ripped away without so much as a moment to process, it was only inevitable that everything would come crumbling down.

Pairing - Suguru Geto x ! Female ! Reader

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon JJK violence, main character death (not Reader), allusions to suicide, unresolved angst, loss, guilt, slight canon divergence

Word Count - 8.2k (I am so proud of every single word)

Author's Note - This piece might have taken YEARS off of my expected lifespan, but what can I say, I live for the angst.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“Just be safe, yeah?” you say with a smile on your face, smoothing your hands over the shoulders of Geto’s uniform. His expression mirrors your own — a soft smile curling the corners of his lips upward as he gazes at you.  

“Yeah, promise,” he responds, nodding his head at you. Your smile momentarily widens, the smile lines on your face indenting deeper. You push yourself onto tiptoe, pressing a gentle kiss against Geto’s cheek. 

The moment is then immediately soiled by a loud, fake retching sound from a certain snowy-haired male. Both you and Geto turn — the latter already biting back the sarcastic quip that rises in his throat.  

“Do I get one too?” Gojo asks, crossing his arms dramatically over his chest as he swaggers to you and Geto, craning his neck and jabbing his cheek in your direction. You giggle, removing your hands from Geto’s shoulders — which he nearly protests — and instead you lay your palms against Gojo’s cheeks.  

“Dramatic ass,” you tease, then laying a kiss against Gojo’s cheek before you shove him away. He sticks his tongue out at Geto as he stumbles, who only rolls his eyes.  

“Come on Satoru, I don’t want to be out all day,” Geto complains, glancing up at you. You smile, nose scrunching in that way that always warms Geto’s chest — he fights the urge to kiss the small wrinkle in the bridge of your nose.  

“Yeah, yeah, m’coming,” Gojo waves off Geto’s rushing, turning his head to flash you one last smile before he jogs to catch up to Geto’s side.  

“(Y/N) is gonna have a field day chewing us out,” Gojo complains, tilting his head back and letting out the dramatic sigh that he had been holding in his chest. Geto nods in agreement, turning his head just enough to cast a glance over his shoulder.  

Riko is still rambling on about all of the things that she wants to do, which mainly includes the simplistic aspects of life. She had already voiced to both Geto and Gojo that she wanted to live life normally — and she had also voiced her want to not constantly be followed by both males.  

Geto can’t help the smile that curls the corner of his lips upward, silently watching as Riko speaks in a manner similar to that of an animated character, spreading her arms wide and smiling brightly at Kuroi, who watches the young girl with softened eyes.  

“Yeah, but she’ll be more than happy to help with Riko,” Geto points out, turning his attention back to his scowling best friend. Gojo sighs, the force of his breath blowing his bangs from his eyes. “Better that she deals with Riko than us,” he adds with a wiggle of his brow, an action that pulls a breathy yet dry chuckle from Gojo’s throat.  

“True,” Gojo hums in agreement, lifting his hands to place them palm flat against the back of his neck. He turns his head, glancing at Riko for a fleeting moment before he turns back to face forward. “D’you think Riko will like (Y/N)?” 

“Who doesn’t like (Y/N)?” Geto answers quickly. His jaw snaps shut, cheeks blazing a light shade of pink as he realizes what it was that he had just said. Gojo catches him, but he bites back the sarcastic quip though he so desperately wants to dish it out. “Shut up, let’s just head back.” 

< … > 

“Y’know, I’m glad that you and Satoru are taking the vessel — sorry, Riko — on a little getaway. It’s sweet of you both,” you say with a smile, leaning back against your pillows. On the other line, Geto lets out a small chuckle, the sound bringing a bout of butterflies to your stomach — God, you were smitten with your boyfriend.  

“Not really sweet. We’re doing it because she asked for it,” Geto responds, turning his head to glance at both Riko and Gojo — both of whom were bickering for what felt like the hundredth time that day. He rolls his eyes with a grin on his face, returning his attention to his phone call with you.  

“Still, the fact that you both agreed to it is sweet enough,” you tease lovingly. Geto grins at the smile in your voice, wishing that he could see it. “Maybe I can convince Yaga to come with you three.” 

“Please,” Geto breathes, closing his eyes. He chuckles breathily after speaking, glancing once more at Riko and Gojo before he faces forward again. “I don’t know how much more of their bickering I can take.” 

“I’ll talk to him in the morning. You three get some sleep, ‘kay?” you say softly, and immediately Geto wants to protest — he doesn’t want to hang up just yet. It had been days without seeing you, the most he was able to do was video call you, but even that wasn’t the same as being with you physically.  

“Okay,” he relents, his shoulders sagging slightly. “G’night baby.” 

“Night Sugu, I love you.” 

“I love you more.” He removes the phone from his ear, pressing his thumb against the red hang-up button and turning on his heel to face both Riko and Gojo. “C’mon, (Y/N) said for us to get some rest before tomorrow.” 

Gojo snaps his jaw shut at the mention of your name, turning to face Geto and completely forgetting about Riko — who stares at the snowy-haired male with her jaw slack. But her anger over being ignored dissolves quickly into curiosity. She had heard that name several times already — (Y/N).  

“Who’s (Y/N)?” Riko inquires, tilting her head and crossing her legs on top of the blankets of the motel’s bed. She rests her hands palm flat against her legs, her gaze flickering between Geto and Gojo — both of whom exchange a glance that almost says, “We don’t want to say anything.” 

“(Y/N) is-“ 

“(Y/N) is Suguru’s girlfriend,” Gojo answers with an indifferent shrug, playing off the stern glare that Geto immediately shoots in his direction. Riko’s eyebrows raise — she certainly hadn’t expected that to be the response. She had expected “sister” or “cousin”, but certainly not “girlfriend.”  

“Girlfriend? You?” Riko points a finger at Geto’s chest, her eyes narrowing momentarily at him. In response, Geto slowly nods at her, not knowing what to make of the expression on the teenage girl’s face. “I’m shocked.” 

Gojo snickers, slapping a palm over his mouth and turning away so that Geto wouldn’t notice him laughing. Geto turns, glaring first at Gojo before his eyes snap back to Riko, who tries — and fails — to hide a smile of her own.  

“You’re both hilarious, now go to bed.” 

< … > 

Have you spoken to Yaga yet? 

Sent : 11:40 

Yeah, I just left his office. He said as long as we lay low, there isn't an issue with me joining you. 

Sent : 11:41 

I'll send you our location then. 

Sent : 11:42 

Okay babe! See you soon &lt;3 

Sent : 11:42 

Geto smiles quietly to himself, trying to hide the curl of his lips from Gojo and Riko – not that he had to try very hard. Gojo and Riko were, like usual, busy with bickering with one another over God only knows what. Kuroi, bless her soul, is trying her hardest to settle the arguing – but to no avail.  

"Hey, Satoru," Geto calls out, effectively stopping the childish arguing between Gojo and Riko. The snowy-haired male turns at the call of his name, speeding up his steps to fall into line with Geto. He furrows his eyebrows together, silently urging Geto to continue speaking. "Yaga approved the request for (Y/N) to join us. She'll meet us here in Okinawa." 

"Thank God," Gojo says, casting a sharpened glare in Riko's direction – which Riko responds to by sticking her tongue out. She crosses her arms over her chest, but she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little excited to meet you.  

“She’ll be here sometime in the afternoon, so you’ll have to occupy yourself until then,” Geto teases, chuckling as Gojo punches him in the shoulder. Riko watches on, feeling herself smile at the interaction — maybe being stuck with these two wasn’t as bad as she had made it out to be.  

And maybe you were even better. 

&lt; … > 

“(Y/N/N)!” Gojo calls out, his hands cupping over his mouth as he spots you in the distance. He lifts his hand in a wave once your body turns, eyes falling on him.  

You easily make your way over, beelining for both Geto and Gojo. Your arms lock around Geto first, smiling widely as his arms wrap firmly around your waist, lifting you from the ground. 

You crane your neck to look down at Geto, your hands moving to hold the sides of his face as you guide his lips to yours, kissing him sweetly and smiling against him.   

It’s the dramatic retching and spitting that makes you pull back from Geto — and of course, Gojo is doubled over pretending to vomit.  

Geto sets you down, still holding your hips as your head turns to glance at Gojo. Shaking your head, you roll your eyes, scoffing at the male’s behavior.  

You turn back to Geto, choosing to ignore Gojo’s theatrics in favor of sweetly reuniting with your boyfriend after however many days it had been since he’d first set off from Jujutsu Tech.  

“Hi,” you whisper, scrunching your nose at him as you smile. This time, Geto leans in to kiss the bridge of your nose, laughing breathily when he pulls back and catches sight of your flustered expression.  

“Hi baby,” he smiles at you, chuckling as you move to bury your face into his shoulder. His hand tangles in your hair, fingernails scraping lightly against your scalp — the action has you curling further into him like a cat. 

“Wow, so I don’t get a hello at all?” Gojo calls out dramatically, throwing his hands into the air and pouting childishly, crossing his arms over his chest.  

Your groan of protest is caught by the fabric of Geto's shirt, the rumble of your chest against his own bringing a soft smile to Geto's lips. You disconnect from Geto's arms, turning on your heel and opening your arms to Gojo – which he runs into without a single ounce of hesitation.  

"Satoru!" You can't help but bite back the laugh that bubbles up in your throat as Gojo all but tackles you to the ground, nearly knocking you off of your feet from the force at which he runs at you. You let out a hearty laugh the second that his body knocks into yours, your feet lifting from the ground as Gojo messily spins you around in a fashion similar yet not to Geto.  

"Thank God you're here!" Gojo loudly complains, his voice just as dramatic as it always had been. You smile widely, holding tightly onto Gojo's neck so that you wouldn't fall to the ground.  

"Alright Satoru, calm down," Geto says sternly, reaching a hand out and grasping his friend's shoulder. The touch prompts Gojo to set you down. You smile in thanks, nodding once to Geto before you finally notice the unfamiliar face that stares curiously at you – the Star Plasma Vessel.  

Your eyes soften as you gaze at her – she was much younger than you had expected, at least two or three years below you. Following your gaze, both Geto and Gojo step out of your way, allowing you and Riko to meet on your own terms rather than accidentally forcing you both into conversation.  

"Hi, I'm (Y/N)," you say with a kind smile, extending your hand in Riko's direction and waiting patiently for her to take it. Relaxed, the young girl smiles right back at you, folding her hand into yours and joyously shaking it.  

"Hi! I'm Riko," the girl bubbles, her smile seemingly widening as you release her hand. You have to admit, seeing her so happy, even given her situation, was heartwarming in a way that you couldn't put into words. You chuckle gently at her, then shifting your attention to the older woman that stands at Riko's side – she eyes you with a mixture of curiosity and hesitance.  

Riko follows your gaze, glancing at Kuroi and smiling as her gaze and attention returns to you. "Oh! That's Kuroi," Riko introduces the older woman, gesturing warmly to her in a way that has you assuming she may be Riko's mother or older sister – or something of the like.  

"It's nice to meet you Kuroi. I'm (Y/N)," you reintroduce yourself, extending your hand in Kuroi's direction. Her eyes flicker down to your outstretched fingers, eyeing them with a raised eyebrow. You understand her hesitation – you were nothing but a stranger to her after all.  

With a gentle nudge from Riko, Kuroi shakes your hand, offering you a shaky smile – one that you reciprocate kindly. "It's nice to meet you as well." 

The moment that Kuroi's hand leaves yours, Riko is quick to hook her arm into your own, gently tugging you in the direction of the shops that Geto and Gojo had previously promised that they could visit. You let out a small chuckle, allowing yourself to be dragged away by Riko, who immediately begins to talk your ear off about just how annoying she found Geto and Gojo. 

"Good to see that they get along nicely," Kuroi comments fondly, placing a hand palm flat against her chest as a soft smile curls her lips upward. Geto nods in agreement, watching yours and Riko's retreating figures with softened eyes. 

"Come on, you and I both know that (Y/N) is gonna make me pay for everything," Gojo complains, his voice carrying its usual dramatic whine as he drags his feet to follow you and Riko. Geto and Kuroi chuckle in response, following Gojo.  

< … >  

"You care about her," Geto says suddenly, his eyes flickering to you as you sit quietly on the beach beside him. With a grin, you curl your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself and watching as Riko and Gojo chase each other through the ocean's shallow end.  

Your eyes soften as you watch Riko kick water up at Gojo, laughing loudly as he tries to shield himself (mostly his hair) from getting wet – always the dramatic one.  

"Yeah," you whisper, turning your head and leaning your cheek against your knee, your gaze meeting Geto's. He stares back at you with warm eyes, that which crinkle at the corners as his lips tug upward. His hand extends, a finger running lovingly along your cheek. For a moment, absolutely nothing else matters – not the mission, not the Star Plasma Vessel, not anything.  

All that matters is that you're with Geto.  

You nuzzle lovingly into his affectionate touch, actively seeking more of it – which Geto is more than happy to provide. His finger is replaced by the palm of his hand, thumb swiping at the area just underneath your eyes. "It's sweet, you know." 

"Oh shush, you're going soft for her too," you bite back teasingly, smirking as Geto removes his hand from your cheek. You whine at the loss of contact, but you continue to smirk at Geto nonetheless. He rolls his eyes playfully at you, his gaze momentarily flickering to catch a glimpse of Riko and Gojo – both of whom are still chasing each other around the ocean's shoreline.  

"Not true," Geto attempts to retaliate, but the light pink hue of his cheeks immediately gives him away. You lift a finger, poking one of Geto's burning cheeks and smirking again at him.  

"Sure about that?" 

"Oh shush," Geto chuckles, placing his palm flat against your face and playfully shoving you away. Your laugh is caught by his skin, breath fanning against his palm. He smiles as he removes his hand, feeling his heart warm at the sight of the smile plastered onto your face.  

"Hey! Lovebirds!" Riko calls out, cupping her hands over her mouth and smiling as she waves at both you and Geto. You turn your head to her, laughing as she places her hands on her hips. "Are you just gonna sit there the entire time?" 

You grin at Geto, kissing his cheek fleetingly before pushing yourself to stand, closing the distance between yourself and Riko and placing your hands into her awaiting ones. She drags you gently into the water, laughing as you gasp at the cold water that licks at your ankles.  

Suddenly, a spray of cold water hits your back. With a squeal, you turn to look at the culprit, positively fuming as Gojo stands proudly behind you, knelt in the water with his hands raised in the air. You glare at him, snapping your fingers and smirking to yourself as the water surrounding Gojo raises to his height, then completely dousing him in freezing saltwater.  

Riko laughs, crossing her hands over her stomach and doubling over to follow the force of her laughter. You turn your head to smile at her, heart swelling at the sound of the young girl's laughter.  

< … >  

"What's Jujutsu Tech like?" Riko inquires curiously, falling into step with you as you walk ahead of Geto, Gojo, and Kuroi, all of whom had opted to remain a few steps behind you claiming that they were remaining on the lookout for any potential threats.  

You hum in thought, folding your hands behind your back as you allow yourself to get lost in the scenery that surrounds you – thickened trees and hanging branches providing you with shade that is a welcome contrast to the blazing sun. You smile, tilting your head just enough to glance at Riko through your peripheral.  

"Well, to us, it's like any other school. But to you, I'd assume it'll look like a castle," you respond jokingly, not failing to notice the smile that curls the corner of Riko's lips upward. She lets out a small giggle as she walks beside you, mimicking you and looking around at the trees that line the pathway to Jujutsu Tech's front entrance.  

The silence that hangs over both you and Riko is comfortable, comfortable enough that she sidesteps towards you and affectionately knocks her shoulder against your own. You smile, turning your head to look at Riko, who only returns your smile just as brightly.  

"Maybe somewhere else I could have gone to Jujutsu Tech with you," Riko mutters, her voice almost too quiet for you to hear. Her words tug at your heartstrings – in a way, you felt guilty that there was no real solution that you could offer. Her sole purpose was to serve as a vessel for Tengen, and it was your job to deliver her to Tengen so that he could continue...whatever it was that he did.  

You swallow the lump in your throat, not knowing what to say. You had honestly wished for the same thing – maybe in some other universe you and Riko would have been able to attend school together. Maybe you would have trained her to become a strong Jujutsu Sorcerer. Maybe.  

Softly, you reach out to interlock your fingers with hers, squeezing at her hand and willing yourself to smile at her. She returns it, though both of your lips are trembling with a deepened sadness. "Maybe. Don't think like that though. I'm glad we were able to spend time together in this one." 

Riko's smile trembles slightly, her eyes shining with unshed tears. You chuckle breathily, reaching out with your thumb to swipe at her lash line, catching the tears just before they're able to fall. "Yeah," she agrees quietly, nodding her head at you.  

"We're almost there," Geto calls out from behind your back, smiling softly at you as you turn to acknowledge him. You nod curtly, then returning your attention to Riko, who had squeezed your hand as you walked beneath the entrance archway.  

"You ready Riko?" 

Riko inhales deeply, feeling her worry ebb away as you squeeze at her fingers again.  

"Yeah." 

< ... >  

"You okay?" Geto's voice is almost too quiet for you to hear, but your ears perk at his whisper nonetheless. You turn your head just enough to glance at him, blinking past the tears in your eyes as you silently watch Riko bid Kuroi farewell, squeezing at her caretaker and sobbing quietly into her shoulder.  

You swallow the lump in your throat, lifting your hands and swiping your fingers against your eyes, not wanting to cry. Geto softens at your actions, letting out a small sigh through his nose – but he says nothing about your concealed tears, if anything, he understands.  

"Yeah, m'fine," you murmur in response, forcing yourself to smile as Riko turns then to you, tears rolling down her cheeks as an aftermath to saying goodbye to Kuroi. The young girl quickly closes the distance between you, wrapping her arms around you and burying her face into the crook of your neck. 

You sigh shakily, holding her tightly against you and resting your cheek against the side of her head. Her body shakes against your own, her tears staining the shoulder of your uniform – but you cannot care any less.  

"Can you walk in with me?" Riko whispers into your shoulder, keeping her voice low enough so that only you can hear what she says. You feel yourself shakily smile, your arms momentarily squeezing around her.  

"Of course," you whisper back, smiling as she disconnects herself from your arms to return your teary smile. "I'd never make you go in there alone, especially not with Suguru," you tease, both you and Riko sharing a tear-filled laugh as Geto loudly protests over your shoulder – but he smiles all the same.  

The moment is soiled then by the remembrance of what you had come down to Tengen's for. You release your hold on Riko, opting instead to gently hold her hand as Geto begins to lead the pair of you down to Tengen.  

The three of you walk in relative silence, Riko holding tightly onto your hand as she walks at your side. Every now and then, she sniffles softly – a sound that tugs at your heart the more that you listen to it. You squeeze at her hand as reassuringly as you can, offering her what you hope is a gentle smile – but even you know that the tremble in your lips is on full display.  

Geto walks a few steps ahead of you and Riko, his hands stowed away in his pockets as he listens both to your trembled breathing and to Riko's soft sniffs. He would never admit it aloud, but he too felt as if Riko had taken on a younger sister role in his life – even though she had entered his life as nothing more than a package to be delivered. And he would never admit it aloud, but he somewhat wanted Riko to refuse the assimilation.  

If not for his sake, then he hoped she would refuse for yours.  

"Well, here we are," Geto says suddenly, stopping and looking down at Tengen's barrier. You and Riko stop at his side, hands still intwined as you both peer curiously around the room. Riko lifts her free hand to her eyes, swiping away the stray tears that lingered on her cheeks before she turns to you.  

"I-I think I'm ready," she stutters out, swallowing the scared sob that claws at the base of her throat. You soften, turning momentarily to make fleeting eye contact with Geto, who only stares at both you and Riko with a softness that felt similar to that of a loving husband and older brother.  

You nod at Geto, turning to Riko and removing your hand from her own and opting instead to place your palms flat atop her shoulders. You stare at her, and she returns your gaze with a curious pinch to her eyebrows.  

"Riko, I want you to listen carefully to me. You don't have to do any of this. We could easily forget this assimilation entirely and go back to Kuroi and Satoru. Hell, I'll even take you back to Okinawa so that we could finish shopping together," you laugh through your tears, which roll freely down your cheeks. Riko stares back at you, slightly stunned.  

"All you have to do is say the word," you whisper.  

Riko swallows, feeling tears build in the backs of her eyes. Her rosy cheeks darken, her eyes crinkle, her lips tremble – she's on the verge of tears all over again.  

Her eyes fall shut, her mind mulling over your words. Did she really want this assimilation? Or was she doing it simply because that's what everyone wanted her to do? 

"I want to be with everyone longer," she pauses to hiccup, "I want to see all kinds of things and just do more!" 

You smile softly at her, removing your hands from her shoulders and holding your hand out to her – just like you had done that day you met her.  

She reaches for you, her lips turned upward in that soft smile that you had grown oh-so-fond of.  

BANG! 

Riko's body crumples to the side, falling to the floor with a dull and lifeless thud. You freeze, hand still extended, fingers twitching in waiting – still waiting for Riko's. Your eyes widen, mind unable to process anything but the incessant ringing in your ears.  

At your side, Geto stands stiff as a board, his expression almost a perfect mirror of your own. His eyes wander down to Riko's body, gaze fixating itself on the steady stream of blood that pours from the bullet wound to the side of her head. Her eyes are open in everlasting shock, one final tear rolling down her face before it grossly mixes with the blood that surrounds her.  

Your eyes shift only when you hear footsteps approaching, gaze flickering upward to watch as an unknown man strolls into the room, knocking the handle of his gun against his head. A smirk plays at the corner of his mouth, an amused glint to his tired eyes.  

He doesn't say anything immediately, instead waiting to close the distance between himself, you, and Geto. The arm that holds his gun lowers to his side, and in a fit of mock curiosity, he tilts his head to the side.  

"That was easier than I thought," he comments offhandedly, glancing between Riko's body and you. Your shoulders rise and fall in heaving breaths – breaths that you're unsure are heavy because of anger or sadness. You want so badly to rush the man and give him hell, but something holds you back from doing so.  

Geto reaches out instinctively, moving your body behind his own protectively as the man draws closer. You let him – the ringing in your ears is strong enough to hold all of your attention. Your eyes return to Riko, praying that maybe – just maybe – she would stir and sit up. You could take her right back to Okinawa, and everything would be right again.  

"(Y/N), get out of here," Geto says quietly, his voice nothing but a muffled buzz in your ears. You nod numbly at him, sidestepping around his body and making a break for the exit. You know that it's wrong – how blindly you listened to him and left him with someone that could potentially end his life.  

You screw your eyes shut as you sprint down the hallway, feeling tears finally sting your eyes as the realization of what had happened seeps into the cracks of your mind. You'd failed. You had failed everything. You promised her that you'd protect her, that you would take her back to Okinawa, that you would show her the world that she had been so scared to lose.  

A harsh sob rips from your chest as you skid to a stop, doubling over and placing your hands on your knees. Underneath the weight of your guilt, you crumble. Your knees strike the ground as your hands grip at your chest now, clawing at the fabric of your uniform as if it suffocates you.  

You bow your head down, gritting your teeth as your body shakes with the weight of your sobs. Your hair shades down over your face, creating a veil around it and preventing anyone from looking directly at you. Your lips part, and from the deepest depths of your throat, you scream.  

< … > 

Hey baby, Shoko was asking for you. 

Sent : 12:06 

Saw a cat outside a coffee shop today, thought maybe you'd want a picture of it. 

Sent : 15:00 

Left you some dinner outside of your door, please eat something. 

Sent : 04:17 

Movie night tonight?  

Sent : 06:15 

Pressing two fingers against the side of your phone, you silence it, then tossing the device as far away from yourself as you can. The clatter of the phone against the floor does little to stir you – the comfort of your sheets was stronger than any Cursed Energy, and you'd be damned if you were leaving it.  

How long had it been since that day anyway? 

Days? Weeks?  

Hell -- it could have been months. In truth, you didn't know. The days had started melding together a very long time ago, everything felt the same – nothing was new. Everything felt bleak, like an old movie that you had accidentally left on perpetual repeat.  

You turn over in bed, facing the wall. Your eyes feel heavy, but the moment that you close them you know exactly what it is that you'll see. You'll see whatever wisps you have left of her.  

Do you even remember what she looks like anymore? 

Your chest tightens at the realization, and instinctively your body curls inward. Your knees touch your chest as you adjust yourself into a fetal position, screwing your eyes shut and biting back the sobs as they rise in your throat.  

There wasn't a day that went by where you didn't blame yourself. You were a Sorcerer, you were quite literally trained to protect the people around you. But no, you were so focused on convincing her on a situation that she was already decided on – you failed to protect her because of your own selfishness.  

God forbid you had lifted your head, even if it was just to sneak a peek at the rest of Tengen's barrier. Would you have spotted him? Wait, of course you would've – Geto had once complimented your ability to keep your head on a constant swivel.  

You could've activated your Cursed Technique, you were always the swiftest of your classmates. You could've saved her – Riko would have been fine.  

But you didn't do any of that. Instead, you held her shoulders and tried to play mother dearest. It was your tear-filled monologue that got her killed.  

"Fuck," you mutter, the dull ache in your chest deepening as you spiral into a pit of your own regret. Your hand comes to bunch up the fabric of your shirt, clawing at it as if it were choking you. "'M sorry..." 

You can feel yourself beginning to cry, but your body is unable to produce a fresh round of tears. You whimper quietly, lips parting to release the soft sobs that you had been forcefully holding in your chest. The sheets that cover your shoulders shake in sync with you – but they continue to serve their purpose in keeping you concealed from the world. 

Across your room, you can hear your phone buzzing against the ground. Suguru. 

How long had it been since you last saw Suguru? 

It felt like you were punishing yourself, keeping yourself holed up in your room and limiting your interactions with anyone – Gojo, Geto, and Shoko felt more like figments of your imagination. They felt like strangers to you. And in a way, maybe they were.  

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at your door. The ringing in your ears dies down, leaving you alone in the silence of your room – you almost wish for the ringing to come back. Any noise was better than none at all, and with the way your mind had been whispering lately, you'd rather an incessant ring.  

You turn your head halfway, yet you don't move from the familiar comfort of your bed.  

"(Y/N)? Baby, it's me." It's Geto. Fuck, it's Geto. 

You don't answer, shifting back to your original position and sighing shakily. Even though every part of you wants to open that door and promptly collapse into his arms, you force yourself to remain rooted to your place. You force your eyes shut, praying that your silence would turn him away.  

"It's been – God – I don't even know how long it's been. We're – I'm worried about you," Geto pauses, likely to swallow the growing lump in his throat, "I just want to know if you're okay." 

Your lips wobble, and for the first time in days you feel the familiar sensation of tears sliding down your cheeks. Your hands curl around your sheets, tugging them impossibly further around you.  

On the floor, your phone buzzes again. For a moment, you wonder just how many unread messages you have. How many were from Gojo? Or Geto? Or Shoko? Or maybe you were just imagining the sounds, maybe they really didn't care at all.  

"Please open the door." He sounds so desperate, so broken. The fact that it was your fault that he felt so helpless only added to your already debilitating guilt and regret. Your punishment was making everyone else suffer – you were the reason why everyone was worried. Selfish, selfish, selfish. 

And you want to. You want to stand from your bed and open the door, you want to fall into Geto's arms and sit with him in nothing but that comfortable silence that always followed you when you were with him. You craved it – or rather you craved the normalcy of it all.  

Selfishly, you don't. You close your eyes and telepathically will Geto to just leave. A little part of you hopes that he won't, but the rest of you wants him to.  

You know that he won’t leave though — knowing Geto he was definitely sitting with his back against your door, waiting patiently for you to either respond or let him in.  

A shame that you would do neither. 

Your hands curl into white-knuckled fists with the strength of your grip, keeping your eyes glued shut and praying — no — hoping that Geto would just leave you to rot.  

“Y’know, we can talk about whatever you’re thinking about.” 

You sigh shakily, opening your eyes and staring blankly at your wall. He’d never leave you to rot, even if you shoved and begged him.  

Talk? What would talking do? Would it bring back the piece of you that was ripped from your hands and shattered like nothing? 

Your body turns halfway, ears pricked and patiently waiting for Geto to continue. Shockingly, you want him to keep talking. It’s a nice distraction. 

“I don’t know what exactly you’re thinking right now, and I know that you definitely don’t want to delve into it,” Geto pauses to exhale shakily — it makes you wonder if he’s out there crying. "I want to help you, you've helped me through so many rough patches and the fact that you're not letting me help you now...it's killing me." 

Go. 

Your hands push at your sheets, the cool air from your dorm hugging at your exposed legs. Your body cracks as you stand from your bed, but you ignore the dull ache in your bones. The distance between your bed and the door once seemed like a never ending hallway, one with twists and turns that would throw you off course and make you return to the starting point.  

Oddly enough, now that distance seems much shorter.  

You walk across your room, stepping past your phone on the floor and pausing just as you reach the door. You stare silently at the wood, eyes drifting down to the doorhandle. You were so close, if you just lifted your hand- 

"I love you so much (Y/N). So please, let me help you." 

Your eyes fall shut, body curling back from the door. With invisible hands, your sheets call out to you, beckoning you sweetly to return to what was familiar – back to square one.  

You shake your head, turning on your heel and lowering yourself to the floor, your back sliding down the door until you're sitting on the floor. Your knees curl up to your chest, arms winding around them in a self-hug as you lean your head back, listening quietly to Geto's shaky breathing on the other side.  

< … > 

Bzzt. Bzzt. 

One year. 

You stare blankly down at the reminder, thumb quickly jerking to delete its existence. It had been a miracle enough that you'd made it six months – a year didn't really feel real to you. Not yet at least.  

You knew deep down that it would sink in later, when you weren't surrounded by people and when you were sitting in the twisted comfort of your own sadness. But now, you had to act like a person, not a puppet who just happened to wear human skin.  

In front of you stands Gojo, Geto, and Shoko. For the better part of an hour, Shoko had been trying to teach both boys about her Reverse Cursed Technique, wanting them to be able to heal themselves so that she wouldn't have to exert herself every time that they returned from missions.  

But just like everything else that they did together, Geto and Gojo were about as intelligent as two monkeys attempting to complete a Rubix cube. In any other circumstance, you would have laughed at them and teased them endlessly. 

Now? 

Now you stared blankly at them, eyes devoid of anything that might have rendered you human. All of those sleepless nights had finally caught up to you, claiming your body like a demon would its unfortunate host. You wanted to crack a smile, prove to them that you had healed somewhat since everything had happened – but they knew just as well as you that it would be another one of the many lies spoken by your tongue.  

"C'mon Shoko, you know we can't do this," Gojo complains loudly, his voice an incessant whine as he leans forward, glancing over the rims of his glasses to send a playful glare in Shoko's direction. She rolls her eyes at him, hands holding her hips as she waves a finger in his face.  

"Would you stop complaining?" Geto retaliates, reaching a hand over and whacking the back of the snowy-haired male's head. He yelps at the contact, both of his hands cupping the back of his head.  

"Ow! (Y/N), come and control him!" Gojo turns to you for salvation, but pauses at the expression on your face. Your lips are downturned in a half-frown, eyes staring at nothing in particular. He glances at Geto, who had also turned to look at you.  

"(Y/N)?" he calls out to you. His voice has your head shaking, bringing yourself back to reality and breaking you from whatever trance you had fallen victim to. "Everything okay love?" 

You're quick to nod, sending Geto what you think is a smile – but it resembles more of a poor attempt at a smirk. "Fine," you answer quickly. His heart sinks, he wants so desperately to take every bit of pain that you constantly shouldered, but you were so adamant on dealing with everything on your own that he had simply...stepped to the side.  

Shoko claps her hands together, effectively redirecting all attention to herself – an action that you were thankful for. It was one thing to be constantly doted on by your boyfriend, but to then drag in both of your best friends? Saying that you felt like a complete burden would be the understatement of the century.  

Gojo turns his attention back to Shoko without a second thought; he had never been good with emotions, and watching your downward spiral was something that he just...couldn't help with. He wanted to, God, of course he wanted to. But he lacked the understanding of how to do it.  

Geto is hesitant to turn around, not wanting you to think that he was turning his back on you. The last thing that he wanted was for you to suffer in silence, even though that seemed to be the one thing that you wanted. No, he loved you far too much to let you crumble to your own demons. So he gripped his sword in his hand and fought them at your side – no matter how much you kicked and screamed at him to go away. 

You sigh shakily, teeth catching your bottom lip as the reminder from your phone flickers across your memory again. One whole year.  

Even with a whole year having gone by, that regret and guilt still followed you like a stray dog. The moment that you muttered to yourself, "I'm okay," that dog would nip at you with a force that sent you crumbling to the ground.  

You look upward, blinking away the tears that burn the backs of your eyes and focusing all of your attention on the trio in front of you.  

< … > 

“What do you mean (Y/N)’s gone?” Geto asks with an incredulous raise of his eyebrows, looking at Gojo as if he had sprouted another head.  

Gojo inhales deeply, bracing his hands on his knees as a result of sprinting so wildly at Geto once he had heard news of your sudden disappearance.  

“(Y/N) left. Shoko said that she tried to get her to stay, but it was no use,” Gojo says breathlessly. Geto shakes his head, not wanting to believe anything that Gojo was saying — but the expression on his face douses Geto with the cold reality that this was really happening. You were gone. 

“Where did she go?” 

“No idea, she didn’t say a word,” Gojo answers, taking a mental note of the unbridled worry swirling in Geto’s eyes. “We’re going to look for her, right?” 

“What do you think?” Geto says in a matter-of-fact tone, already striding past Gojo. The snowy-haired male is quick to follow, falling into step with his best friend. 

The silence that hangs over the both of them is tense, neither of them wanting to say anything to the other in fear of further souring the mood.  

Geto’s teeth catch his bottom lip, digging down into the supple flesh. His mind wanders, thinking of where you could have gone and just what you could be doing. He should’ve done more to help — he should’ve been there for you just as much as you had been there for him.  

How had he let you spiral down that far? He felt like a bystander in a situation where he should have been standing right at your side, he should have been holding your hand just as tightly as you had always held his.  

“Hey, there you are,” Geto says softly, smiling so gently at you as you open your door — finally revealing yourself to him after hiding in the shadows for however long.  

You remain silent, rubbing a hand over your tear-stained cheeks. Your eyes, so dead and tired, flicker up to meet Geto’s — which soften upon studying your clear cut exhaustion.  

“Oh sweet girl,” he whispers, opening his arms to you and embracing you tightly as you step into them. Your face buries into his shoulder, absorbing the familiarity of his hug. “I’m here.” 

Your body shakes as another round of sobs wracks through your body, nails biting into Geto’s back. He ignores the stinging sensation your nails leave behind — focusing everything on making you feel comforted.  

“I’ll go look this way, you’ll be okay on your own?” Gojo confirms, casting one last glance over his shoulder at Geto.  

The dark-haired male nods, his focus solely on finding you and bringing you home. He would be damned if he would leave you alone again — you deserved to have someone to comfort you in the same way that you constantly comforted others. 

“Text if you need me ‘kay?” Gojo says, reaching out and lightly pressing his knuckles against Geto’s shoulder. The latter nods, and just like that the tuft of snowy hair disappears into the surrounding crowd.  

As Geto walks, he once again allows his mind to wander — thinking about little warning signs that he overlooked. Maybe there was something that you said or did that had a double meaning, yeah, that had to be it.  

His eyes glaze over with unshed tears as he desperately searches for you among the unfamiliar faces, all of them a blur as he tries to find you. All he wanted was to bring you home, give you the proper help that you so desperately needed.  

If he could just- 

“(Y/N)!” There. There’s that head of hair that he had once spent hours playing with. It turns upon hearing the call of his voice — it really is you. 

But at the same time…it isn’t you. The (Y/N) staring at him feels different to the (Y/N) that he asked out in the serenity of his school dorm.  

This (Y/N) is cold and dead — a walking corpse at best.  

You stare blankly at Geto for a moment, eyes silently asking him what it is that he wants from you.  

“Hey, what’s going on?” he practically begs, bravely reaching out to hold your wrist, preventing you from curling away from him.  

Your eyes momentarily flicker down to his hand, staring at the strain of his fingers before your gaze returns to his — you don’t fail to notice the tears he holds back. You felt awful that you were the reason why he was crying. 

“Nothing’s going on,” you answer indifferently. He shakes his head at you, you were lying.  

“You can’t really be saying that. You’ve been…you changed.” 

“Have you ever stopped to think about why?” you raise an eyebrow at him, voice suddenly laced with a venom that he had never heard from you before. Slowly, his grip on your wrist loosens until he doesn’t hold it anymore, eyes never once leaving yours even as you focus on other things.  

“What?” His voice is breathy, a whisper. He doesn’t understand, why were you suddenly being so brash with him? He had only been trying to help you all this time — right? 

You remain silent, not knowing how to elaborate without getting emotional all over again. You were a Sorcerer, you were meant to protect. The one person you were meant to protect was gone. And now you could barely live with the consequences.  

But Geto just thinks that you’re in mourning. No, no, it’s so much more than just simple mourning. 

“Have you ever stopped to think about why I changed?” you reiterate, tilting your head at Geto. He steps forward, keeping the distance between you both as short as he can — he can’t lose you, not again.  

 Geto mulls your question over in his head, which he then shakes in response. You let out a small sigh through your nose, already feeling that familiar mixture of regret and sadness building in your stomach.  

“Do you know what it’s like — to regret everything that you’ve ever done in your life?” you mutter, glancing up at Geto. For the first time, he notices just how dead you truly look. Those bright eyes now dull, your cheeks sunken in, your lips permanently turned downward in a frown.  

“Sorcerers are meant to protect people, right? We’re meant to step in and help the ones that can’t help themselves,” you begin, finding your footing and finally vomiting out all of the words that had been building up somewhere in your stomach.  

Geto watches silently, not knowing what to say or do. All he can do is listen.  

“What the fuck are we meant to do when we can’t save everyone? The ones who can’t protect themselves die, and what are we left to do?”  

Geto pauses, realization sinking into his bones. Riko. You blamed yourself for what happened to Riko — how the fuck had he not noticed that before? 

He had somewhat of an idea that it was Riko who had caused you to spiral downward, but he didn’t know that it was her death that had turned your entire opinion of being a Sorcerer.  

Just how much had Riko meant to you? 

“You and Satoru might be okay shouldering that guilt. But I’m just — I’m not,” you say honestly, running your hand through your hair and chuckling dryly. Geto steps forward, reaching for you.  

You step back, effectively creating a distance between the two of you. He falters, silently watching.  

“(Y/N)-“ 

“Be a Sorcerer, yeah?” you glance tearfully at him. For the first time in months, you smile, lips turning upward as you nod at him. “Be the protector that people need you to be.” 

Geto shakes his head, stepping forward again and silently begging you to come to him. 

You don’t. 

“Baby. Stop. Just-“ He pauses as he watches you, noticing your body tilting back to follow your backwards steps. 

“Be the shield that people need Suguru,” you whisper, voice barely audible over the footsteps that surround you. He shakes his head again, fingers extending to you. 

Like a wisp in the night, you vanish into the crowd. Geto’s fingers close around nothing, and his eyes desperately search for you amongst the blurred faces. 

But you’re gone, just like that. 

And he would never see you again. 

oh god, i wanna feel again

pairing - joel miller x !female! reader

synopsis - i feel like y'all already know. but then again, no you don't.

warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, canon TLOU violence, descriptions of depression, main character death, suicide

please do not read if suicide or mentions of the topic will trigger you. your mental health matters more than a piece of fanfiction.

word count - 0.9k

it had been silent for weeks now.

the miller home, that was what was silent.

the big wooden house just on the corner of the street that connected the residences to the main parts of jackson. the house with the hand-painted mailbox with the inking of the word 'miller' messily drawn into its side.

a house that you couldn't bring yourself to look at. every time you found yourself walking that block, you made a detour. every time. without fail. you couldn't even bring yourself to tip your head in its direction.

you didn't want to see the wisps of what could've been. the life that you could have had, the love that you could have held onto if you had been faster. if you had been stronger. if you had been there like you said that you always would be.

but you were a liar.

"m'here for you," you had said, leaning into the flannel that was wrapped delicately around the tops of your shoulders. "even if y'don't want me t'be."

joel turned back to you, seeing the genuine truth glinting in your eyes like the stars that you were both occupied with watching. your lips curved into a smile when his gaze met yours - just as soft and loving as the millions of times that you'd smiled at him before.

he'd leaned closer to you, calloused hands cradling either side of your face like you were the one things his hands were made to hold. you nuzzled the warmth that radiated up from his skin, smiling as he pressed a kiss to your forhead. his lips lingered, his breath fanned out over your skin, and he'd muttered a quiet, "love you" against your skin.

you couldn't look ellie in the eyes either. you didn't want to see the sadness in her eyes, you didn't want to see the slump of her shoulders, you didn't want to be reminded of what she had lost that day.

because you didn't just lose the love of your life. she'd lost her dad that day. and it was your fault ... it had always been your fault.

you didn't even try. you just laid there underneath nora's legs, her knees pressing into the center of your spine, keeping you pinned down against the ground. you had screamed, sure, but what good would your voice do in the face of a vengeful daughter?

nothing. that was the answer.

it wouldn't do jackshit.

abby still hit the club against the side of his head. still killed him. it didn't matter to her that you had screamed. that you had begged. that you had cried and pleaded and whimpered and shouted. it didn't fucking matter.

joel's blank eyes had stared at you, the sight of them forever engrained into your memory. his bloodied body laid in front of you, his fingers already pale like he had been dead for weeks. his eyes were puffy, blood clung to his skin, his chest was still.

as much as you didn't want to believe it, he was dead.

and you'd been right there, the entire time.

your mind hadn't shut up since then. whispers in the shadows that followed you, echoes of his pain, echoes of your pain. you heard your own voice every night when your head hit the pillow. you heard him gurgling, choking on his own blood. you heard the impact of metal on skin.

it was like a cycle. never-ending. always continuing right from the beginning once it was finished.

you just wanted it to stop.

guilt followed you like a plague. it clung to your skin like a leech, sucking away whatever humanity still remained in your hollowed-out bones. it didn't leave you alone, didn't let you rest. always following, always there.

the gun looked friendly one night. it wasn't yours, it was his. a polished piece of metal that he'd cleaned a night or two before taking that patrol with dina.

you reached for it, not really thinking. you turned it over, seeing his initals that he'd carved into the handle. beside it was a tiny heart, that had been your little addition.

"to remind you of little ol' me," you'd told him lovingly. he'd kissed you after that.

dragging your feet, you found yourself on the porch of the wooden house on the corner. the first time in ... what? two weeks? three? four? hell, you didn't know.

the inside was the same as the day that he left. it was still cozy, still warm, still the remanants of a home. everything was right where he had left it last, clean and organized.

you exhale slowly, standing in the center of the living room. slowly you turn in a circle, taking in the surroundings that seemed to mock you. they remind you of what you could have had, of the domesticity that you had been chasing for years.

of the love that had slipped through your fingers like sand.

the muzzle presses cold against your temple. it makes you shiver.

your finger presses against the trigger, caressing it like the cheek of the lover that you had lost.

one...

two...

bang.

the gun hits the floor before you do. blood sprays the wall behind you, some of it paints the floor beneath you. the breath that leaves you is quick, fleeting.

your hand outstretches, your mind goes blank, and your world ends.

but it didn't matter.

you had been dead for a long time anyway.

you had died in that room with him. the only difference was that only one of you had stopped breathing.

things were quiet now.

the miller house was quiet.

fin.