Jjk Shoko - Blog Posts

JJK Fic: Takin' What's Not Yours - Chapter 7 (NOW COMPLETE!!)

' That volcano was right, he wasn't cut out for this. Not the cursed energy, not being a student at Jujutsu Tech- He should’ve died that night. He wanted to have died that night-

“Itadori. You’re going into a panic. You need to open your eyes.” '

JJK Fic: Takin' What's Not Yours - Chapter 6

' He had tried so hard to find the positives… To keep remembering what his grandpa had said.

When had everything become so twisted?

Yuji really didn’t hate many things, but he was starting to hate how hopeless he’d begun to feel. '

silly doodles i found:33 love yall(guys i swear im drawing rn ill try to post as soon as possible!!!!)

you should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk.

“stop you were scared of y/n” getou laughed his ass off, he was almost going to loose his footing and just fall. you were having a conversation about when you chased gojo satoru with a vaccum cleaner but that's a story for another time.

satoru on response to that just rolled his eyes. “why would I be scared of that” he lowers his sunglasses, just giving you a glance of his beautiful eyes.

there it goes, gojo satoru’s habit of referring to you as ‘it’ for no specific reason, whenever he is loosing a arguement. you almost scoff at his childishness.

“i don't take shit from someone with no forehead” you mutter, titling your glass. “ooh that's a violation” shoko joins in the conversation, she isn't able to stand properly at this point. she was not even sober when she came to the club, let alone now.

“yea and this no forehead man still gets more bitches than you” you have a urge to punch his stupid beautiful face but you refrain and just repeat what he said in a squeaker voice, mocking gojo always gets the best reaction from him after all.

but before he could spat out his comeback (he didn't have any), geto points a finger past you nudging at the blue eyed man. “12’o clock hottie, eyes set on you” oh, as soon as she moves past you, you can already smell her expensive perfume. one word to explain the girl, alluring.

‘you should think about the consequences of your magnetic field being way too strong.

you take a swift sip of your whiskey, feeling the burn in your throat, your nose slightly scrunching up, okay maybe it was a bad idea to chug the whole glass down that fast.

but more than the sensation in your throat, the tingle on your skin are burning slightly more whenever your eyes fall on the two attractive pair, leaning on the counter, standing a little away from the group.

“love, if you look at her any more hard, her head is going to have a hole” shoko suggests, though her words are kinda spluttery, but you know what she meant.

“is it just me or her getting mad is kinda hot” getou adds, and your hands flies to hit on his arms playfully. “but y/n? really? satoru when I'm right here” he continues to tease, as you laugh. you know getou is trying to cheer you up, you are really thankful to your friends for that.

and if it wasn't for him only cheering you up, then you have walked in on him changing before, and to say the least you don't have enough rationality in your body to hold yourself back and fuck the bestfriend of the guy you like.

woah, the way the direction of this plot is going towards, sounds like a sitcom you would pay to watch. the title definitely should be ‘the bestfriend with whom I'm platonic but he just gives me orgasms time to time’

“how does he not even know I like him, I make it so obvious, everyone except him knows” you whine, shifting your eyes from the pair to your glass, are you drunk? you are kind of seeing two glasses in your hand. oh no you were drinking two glasses together at the same time already.

“cough he is not the only person who is blind cough” you look towards the side from where the sound came from, but seems like both of your bestfriend’s mouth were closed shut. yea you must be hearing things.

“but my dear y/n, I don't think anyone would understand you have feelings for them if you threat to stab them whenever they are around you”

“well in my defense! thats just how I show my love”

‘and you should think about the consequences of you touching my hands in a darkened room.

“you shouldn't drink anymore” a hand loosens the grip of your fingers around the glass of the drink, you were just planning to throw down your throat, you don't even know which number this was.

you look up to notice a blue pair of eyes scanning you behind his glasses. your face red, hair messy, glassy eyes. “go away thot” you mutter it without even thinking much.

gojo looks physically offended, but he can't help but let out a laugh “thot? me? he mumbles, finally taking the drink away from your hand as you whined.

“we are not doing this today” the white haired man replied to your action of trying to reach for the drink again, almost instantly, his eyes starts to look for getou and shoko, where were they? how could they leave you in this state.

he is going to throw hands if next time someone calls him a manchild, shoko was legit throwing up in a corner of the club, getou holding her hair for her. he doesn't know them he doesn't know them, a single tear almost escaped his eyes.

“where is your girrrrlfriend toru’” see, gojo would have already quoted his infamous line ‘he doesn't do relationships’, if he wasn't that engrossed in the way you call him by a nickname. “not my girlfriend and she just went to the bathroom”

he looks as the way your ears perk up, and your eyes shift towards the entrance of the bathroom “you didn't go in for a quickie?” you ask, your body slumping against the counter again, and as much as it seems you are teasing him, the question comes out a little softer than intented.

“why did you want to join?” you make a gag expression at that offer. “with you? no” yes you say that while you have imagined his finger knucles deep inside you, his fingers being adorned with several rings did something to you.

right, and you wondered why gojou didn't know you liked him as well. “whatever y/n, I'll call shoko and getou we are going home, no more drinks for you, just stay close to me” his voice comes out stern. it's ironic isn't it? how the most immature person in your group is taking care of everyone now.

His hands wraps around yours, tightly, it really wasn't necessary he could have just held your wrist, but he went finger to finger intertwining his hands against your palm, his were comparatively warmer, a little sweaty for some reason, you wonder why.

but gojo knows why, just as much as your heart was beating crazily— so was his, he is not a stupid teenager, and this is definitely not his first time holding a girl’s hand, yet he is almost loosing it by how close you both were.

you almost mutter out, that why is he like this, why does he always act like a lover taking care of you, but your mind is fuzzy as he walks hand in hand with you, drawing different patterns over your skin, like he is trying to sooth your intoxication.

but you just tug at his sleeves, “let’s stay here for a little while toru’ ” gojo almost misses it, the way you mumbled it so softly, he almost missed it. the whirlwind of emotion he is just feeling right now, couldn't even be conveyed by any means. he is in so love with you, that if you say even to go pick up a star with the exact same tone and voice, he will do it, so he stops all together in his track, okay he will listen to your request, it's fine he can carry you home, and he is sure— suguru can take care of himself and shoko (he couldn't)

‘if you’re single, that's honestly worse, cause you're gorgeous it actually hurts, honey it hurts’

“stop I'm just drowning myself in drinks because I'm heart broken” you dramatically sigh. see, you would have died on the spot if you knew you were actually displaying what you felt, not to mention to gojo. and exaggerating while at it.

but whatever you have said has already made the white haired male go through a million emotion in one second, “oh, you like someone”

“yea and he is a son of a bitch” you are so drunk, you twirl around two middle fingers in the air as if you were cursing the lord for making you attracted to the person you liked.

“you never told me, I thought we were bestfriends—”

“satoru’ she is back” you dodge his question, as your eyes move past him and looks over to the beautiful girl standing and looking for the man infront of you.

he follows your eyes and notices her, he plans to just go over and say bye to her, then get back as soon as he can, so he starts to turn around on his heel, muttering a soft “I'll be right back” as his eyes follow her.

you don't realise how fast your hand moves to holds his arm, he quirks a brow at that, as if signaling you to speak, why were you stopping him?

she hasn't noticed where your satoru was, your lips turned into a frown as you looked up to meet his eyes hidden by black glasses, his white locks falling over his cheeks, they are a little red, you wonder if it's because of how hot the packed room was or perhaps it's because he drank a little.

whatever the reason was, whenever you did look at him, you breath automatically gets stuck, is it shallow of you to adore him due to his looks? pretty privilege must be real.

you forgot what you are going to say, really, what were you even going to say, ask him to not talk to that girl anymore? but that's not your place to ask him of such thing at all. It was already hard enough to speak your mind, it's already hard enough to accept why you feel jealous, so how could you tell him you wanted him to only be with you.

“oh satoru, you are here” a voice chirps behind him, satoru? really? didn't they meet only an hour or two back? she was already calling him by his name, he turns his head to meet the green feline eyes.

“riku, ah well— I don't think I can give you my company anymore, can you—” their conversation slowly starts to fade out, almost like white noises, you let go of his arms, you wonder if he notices, god you wish he did. will he notice that how your perfume grow faints and her starts to engulf his senses, will he?

‘ocean blue eyes, lookin’ in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die.

you squat just right infront of the backdoor of the club, your back slumped against the wall, the music inside is too loud, and a headache in your drunken state. though you feel alot sober than when you were inside the club, you cringe at how you behaved today, groaning in annoyance.

“pretty girl like you shouldn't sit alone in a alleyway” a feathery voice snaps you out of the self loathing compilation in your head, as they slump their body weight onto the ground, squating infront of you. copying the way you were sitting against the wall

stupid handsome motherfucker, that's a way to describe gojo satoru. “you know better than anyone how I can even beat your ass in combat” you roll your eyes. you don't like how he takes you breath away everytime he is close.

“oh oh the scary y/n is back, I thought you would continue to be cuter, being drunk”

“i’m not drunk”

“yea and getou loves civilians” he states back, titling his head, eyes still peering into yours. his sunglasses are gone, that's not usual.

but it makes it hard to talk to him more if he just goes around openly with his sickeningly beautiful eyes, not to mention look at you like you are the only person who matters in this world.

“why are you here satoru” his heart shouldn't constantly skip a beat whenever you call his name, it really shouldn't. your lips are turned into a pout, thinking back how he was behaving with that girl.

but who are you to get jealous? that girl looked nice enough, she even made conversation with shoko, and she was beautiful. ugh you hate it. you hate the fact you hated that.

“to get you home y/n, I can't leave a damsel in distress all alone can i?” he smirks, his hands moves to hold your arm, but you retreat.

“i hate you so much gojo” you huff out a sigh, you were holding back since he decided to sit so close to you. “and your stupid gorgeous face” you pause, gojo thinks he might become puddle infront of you if you throw insults and compliment all tigether, pick a side woman.

“and how you make me feel like you care so much about me like you are in love with me”

“i am though” you at first don't realise what he says, your brain doesn't process it so you pretend you didn't hear anything weird or out of the blue, so you decide to continuing to rant “and how you-” but before you could complete that sentence—

his lips, oh god his lips were on yours, softer than imagined, sweeter than imagined, he smells like alcohol. he deepens the kiss, you give in, your hand tangles his soft lock, tugging a fistful of it to pull him closer.

now, that was a way to make you shut up, for sure. you almost whine when he removes his lips only to press few pecks over the span of few seconds.

“you look like a owl” he chuckles, watching your eyes still widen “i imagined you'd be the type to close your eyes while kissing”

“you imagined me kissing?”

“oh, I imagined way more than that” he gives you a devilish smirk, before moving to squat, with his back turning towards you, “hop on” you squint your eyes as he says that, wondering what he meant. “you- you want to carry me?”

He looks back to see your bewildered expression, sighing “yea I want to carry you, you aren't even able to sit properly, let alone stand” he signals you to get on once again, and you listen, that's so unlike of you, is it alcohol or is it because he kissed you, the lingering touch on your lips drugged you more than any amount of alcohol could ever would, so you know the answer to that quiz.

‘guess I'll stumble home to my cats, alone.., unless you wanna come along?

“get in” satoru’s hand tries to push the door close once again, yet you stand on your threshold like a baby, stubbornly like they don't want to leave a playground. “noo, the night just started” you shake your head, your hands holding the door knob.

“you are super duper drunk, and if you don't go to sleep now y/n, I am sure you will hate yourself in the morning”

“haha funny, I'll hate myself in the morning either ways”

“its about time you stop quoting memes” the blue eyed man sighs, he is really being mature right now, principal yaga should seriously see this. next time you shouldn't be the babysitter of him in mission, he should be the one babysitting you.

his hands holds your shoulder, pushing you inside your dorm, closing the door behind him. you throw curses and whine as he walks you towards the bed, making you spin, he makes you sit on the bed. “remind me why I like you so much” huffing out, his hands reaches for your feet, removing one of your shoes off.

“you like me?” you were a lot sober, meaning your senses were too much sensitive to what is happening currently, each breath, each words all seems to chime in your brain loudly. “took you long enough to figure it out”

“i like you too” you gulp, saying it out aloud to the man is extremely hard, but you still have the whiskey in your system even though you felt sober. “really?” he look up at you, brows squinted, hopeful eyes.

“yea really, I was surprised too” he laughs at the comment, pushing of the second shoe off your feet, he stands up, unfolding the blanket near the edge of your bed and wrapping you in it. this is all so soft, which is unlike both of you, you both were like rough edges clashing together, always bickering— being chaotic, being anything but honest or quiet.

“i’ll leave now y/n, I feel we should talk tomorrow” gojo satoru isn't all soft, he really wants to place a kiss on your forehead and stay here but all he does is, pat your head and turns around to leave, heart beating little faster and eyes looking a little happier. though, he couldn't move any further,

your hand holds the hem of his sleeve, he doesn't move away once you stop him, will you again say don't go toru’, oh lord, he won't have any self restrains, you really shouldn't.

he looks back at you, doe eyes scanning him, but isn't saying anything, you are a wreck, full of mixed signals, why would you not tell him to stop if you wanted him to stay, why won't you speak,

he waits a minute or two, yellow dim lights as both pair of eyes just look into each other, before he sighs removing your hand, lowering himself to whisper something to you “go to bed y/n”

“then come to bed with me satoru” and that day we lost another soldier named gojo satoru, people.

it's 6am and I need to sleep but skhm..

how me and hg r coping after our baddie friend defects <//3

me and gang after a mission

Jjk memes Pt. 3

shoko ieiri

Have a little jjk rainbow in these trying times 🫂🤗🥹🌈

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

YOU ARE A COUGAR

────୨ৎ────

Geto Suguru X Reader

Gojo Satoru X Reader

────୨ৎ────

₍^. .^₎⟆ Synopsis: In a world of curses and power struggles take center stage, you’ve always kept to the simple aspects of life. Focussing on your studies, your friendships and life in the dorms. Though everything changes when Geto challenges Gojo that he can’t win your heart and what happens when Geto realizes that Gojo needs to lose.

MASTERLIST

has it been a while since I updated this series? since getting back to canada from the philippines, being a responsible adult and working all the time means i only had time to post my little one shots. BUT I HAVE A FEW CHAPTERS ALREADY WRITTEN IM TRYING

₍^. .^₎⟆ The four of you stood in front of Principal Yaga’s desk, waiting for what was clearly going to be a Very Important Mission. Shoko looked like she was three seconds from falling asleep. Geto had his arms crossed, already preparing himself for whatever was about to come. You just stood there, waiting patiently. Gojo, on the other hand, was leaning back, hands in his pockets, already looking bored. “When was the last time we had a mission with all 4 of us? He knows if im here it doesn’t really matter ”

Yaga exhaled slowly, rubbing his temple like he was already losing braincells with having you all here. Then, with a deep breath, he squared his shoulders and spoke. “Your next assignment is training with the second and first years.”

“…That’s it?” you asked.

“That’s it,” Yaga confirmed.

Gojo blinked, then recoiled like he had just been physically assaulted by the information. “Training with the kids?!”

“Yes,” Yaga said, voice flat.

Gojo turned to Geto, grabbing his shoulders. “We’ve been set up.”

Geto sighed. “It does feel that way.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Gojo turned back to Yaga, waving his hands. “Why do we have to do this? We’re third years! Why are we suddenly getting stuck with mentor duty?”

Yaga crossed his arms. “Because you four have more experience, and they could benefit from learning from you.”

Shoko yawned. “Sounds fake, but okay.”

You tilted your head. “Wait… who exactly are we training with?”

“Nanami Kento and Haibara Yu.” Gojo groaned so loudly it echoed. “NOOOO?!”

“You wouldn’t know them,” Geto said looking towards you. “You’re always running off to other countries.”

Gojo threw his hands up. “Exactly! So why are we getting stuck with this?”

“Wouldnt that be a better reason? For Y/n to know more of the sorcerers?” Yaga deadpanned.

You crossed your arms. “I mean, how bad could it be?”

Gojo turned to you so fast it was a miracle he didn’t give himself whiplash. “How bad could it be?!” He grabbed your shoulders, shaking you lightly. “You don’t understand! You weren’t here when we had to deal with Mei Mei treating us like free labor! You weren’t here when Utahime existed in front of us for five hours straight! We’ve been through too much!”

You blinked. “…It’s literally just training and we are the one that are in charge.”

“That’s what they want you to think!” Gojo hissed.

Yaga sighed, rubbing his temple. “Go now. Before I make you babysit panda.”

Geto grimaced. “Ugh. Let’s just get this over with.”

Gojo whined all the way out the door. “This is so unfair.”

Shoko started leaning on gojo and muttered, “We’re already suffering.”

You just shrugged. “Still don’t get what the big deal is.”

Gojo pointed at you, eyes wide. “You will.”

As the four of you walked away from Yaga’s office, Gojo was still pouting, muttering to himself. “This is so unfair,” he repeated, dramatically flicking his hair out of his eyes as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders. “Honestly, how much can we possibly do with those second and first years?” Geto mumbled, clearly irritated but not as loud about it as Gojo.

You shrugged. “I still don’t see the big deal. We’ve all trained as underclassmen before.”

“It’s different when it’s you four!” Gojo whined, flailing his arms. “Do you know how many people would kill for a mission this week? And what do we get? Babysitting wit our other option ALSO being babysitting!”

Shoko, still unfazed,. “We’re not actually babysitting. You’re just dramatic.”

Gojo threw up his hands. “I’ll show you dramatic when I’m stuck with them! You know how I work, I need to be doing something, not sitting around listening to people talk about how to punch a curse!”

You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help but smile. You were used to Gojo’s over the top complaints. Then, suddenly, Gojo stopped in his tracks and looked at you with wide eyes. “Wait.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He grinned mischievously, like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. “You!”

“…Me?” you asked, confused.

“Yes, you!” Gojo pointed at you, nearly poking your nose in the process. “You’ve got that magical power of yours, your insane ability to always be on missions! Maybe you can finally get us something good while we’re stuck playing teacher’s pet with the underclassmen!”

You blinked. “You do know I don’t have magical powers, right? Also gojo… do you have something wrong in the head? we’re literally walking there”

“Sure you do! It’s like the luck of the draw or something! You’re always out of the loop when it comes to stuff like this because you’re always on a mission or off somewhere else! That’s your power! You’re the best at missing things!” completely ignoring what you said.

“I don’t miss things on purpose…”

He ignored you completely, grabbing your arm. “You have to get a mission! I’m begging you. Please. Do whatever you have to do. I can’t be stuck with Nanami and Haibara for an entire week!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at how frantic he was. “You’re really asking me to use my ‘powers’ to help you skip out of training with our underclassmen?”

“Yes!” Gojo practically fell to his knees in front of you, hands clasped together like he was praying. “Please, put me in your bag! Take me with you! I’ll do anything! I’ll even”

“No,” you interrupted, laughing harder. “I’m not dragging you around in a bag just to escape training. It’s not going to happen.”

Gojo groaned and flopped on the ground dramatically. “This is the worst.”

Geto rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe I’m stuck with you two.”

Shoko just shook her head, exhaling smoke. “At least we can relax while they’re busy with the first years. You’ll be fine.”

Gojo lay on the floor with his arms splayed out. “I’ll never be fine again.”

₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆

The girls’ locker room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the overhead lights. You had just finished changing into your towel when it hit you you forgot your gym clothes.

“Seriously?!” you groaned, facepalming in frustration.

You quickly scanned the locker room, hoping to find something, anything, that could help. No luck. All your clothes were neatly folded in your bag, but… no workout gear. Shaking your head, you cursed under your breath. “Great. Just great. I’m going to look like a total mess today.”

But then, you remembered: Gojo. You knew the men’s locker room was just down the hall, and Gojo always kept a spare set of clothes for emergencies like this. Sure, you weren’t supposed to be in the men’s locker room, but he was your best friend. You’d shared stuff since you were kids, this was nothing new. Without hesitation, you marched over to the door to the men’s locker room. You knocked loudly, pounding your fist on the wood like your life depended on it. “Gojo!” you yelled, voice echoing through the hallway. “Gojo! You in there? I need your spare workout clothes!”

You waited a beat. Nothing. You knocked harder, this time adding a few choice words for emphasis. “Gojo! Are you seriously going to leave me stranded here? Come on, I’m not asking for much! Just some spare clothes!”

Still no response. You leaned your forehead against the door, muttering to yourself. “He better not be napping in there or I swear”

BANG! You gave the door one last solid knock, pushing all your frustration into it. “GOJO!!!”

Finally, the door creaked open just enough to reveal a disheveled Gojo, still half dressed in his gym gear, “What?!” he groaned, clearly not thrilled with the interruption.

“Don’t give me that look!” you shot back. “I need your spare clothes. You’re the only one who comes prepared for this kind of stuff.”

Gojo sighed dramatically and ran a hand through his hair. “you crazy lady why am I the prepared one,” he grumbled, pulling a pair of athletic shorts and a plain shirt from his bag. “If it were anyone else, I’d say no. You’ve got some nerve showing up at my door like this.”

You smiled at him sweetly. “You do this for me.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Gojo handed over the clothes with an exaggerated flourish. “Here. Don’t mess them up, okay?”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’m not the one who would be messing up your stuff.”

Gojo leaned against the doorframe, looking far too pleased with himself. “Just remember, I’m a generous guy. And you owe me one now.”

“Oh, please,” you muttered, taking the clothes from him. “Like I’d ever forget you gave me your old stuff.”

Gojo grinned smugly, hands on his hips. “Exactly. You’ll remember this every time you put them on. Now go change and don’t take forever. We’ve got training to do.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned and made your way back to the girls’ locker room, a sense of relief washing over you as you got ready to train. You didn’t even mind that Gojo always seemed to find a way to be both annoying and helpful at the same time. It was just so him.

Though on the Inside the men’s locker room during your knocking crusade, the usual pre training bustle was happening. Gojo and Geto were leaning against lockers, talking about a really annoying bug called utahime. Haibara was rummaging through his bag, searching for his gym shoes, while Nanami stood at the mirror looking at himself.

Gojo, as always, was the first to notice anything out of the ordinary. He smirked and leaned back, eyes hidden behind his blindfold. “You hear that?” he asked, half smiling.

“Knocking?” Geto murmured, looking up from his phone with a raised eyebrow. He wasn’t nearly as fazed by the interruption as Gojo, but he was intrigued nonetheless.

Haibara, hearing the louder than usual knocking, looked over his shoulder. “Is someone outside? Should we check?”

Gojo tilted his head, pretending to consider it before giving a dismissive wave. “Nah, it’s probably nothing. Maybe some cursed spirit knocked on the wrong door. If it were a real emergency, they’d just barge in, right?” Geto rolled his eyes but didn’t look away from his phone. “If someone’s knocking on that door this loudly, it’s definitely not just a mistake.”

The knocking grew more persistent, and then a familiar voice echoed through the room, sending a shiver of realization through everyone. “Gojo! Are you in there? I need your spare workout clothes!”

There was a moment of stunned silence. “Wait a second ” Gojo’s smile widened, a mischievous glint flashing behind his blindfold. “That voice…”

“She’s seriously knocking on the men’s locker room?” Haibara asked, blinking in confusion. He knew you well enough from your shared missions but never thought he’d be hearing you demand clothes from Gojo in such an… unusual way.

“It’s just her,” Gojo said, still grinning. “give me a moment”

Nanami, who had been silently adjusting his uniform, frowned. “hmmm.” He glanced between Haibara and Geto. “Should we do something about it?”

Geto just shrugged, clearly more used to Gojo’s antics by now. “Nah. She’s been doing this kind of thing for years. She and Gojo have no boundaries.”

Haibara snickered under his breath. “I didn’t realize that was a thing…”

Gojo let out a loud sigh as the knocking continued, growing more desperate now. “Gojo!!! I need your spare clothes!”

Haibara couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. “Does this happen often?”

Geto raised an eyebrow, his face a picture of nonchalance. “More times than you’d think.”

Nanami sighed, crossing his arms. “She really knows how to make an entrance.”

Gojo, meanwhile, was thoroughly enjoying himself. “This is gonna be great,” he said, turning to Geto. “You know she’s going to make a scene when she comes in.”

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll hear all about it during training,” Geto replied dryly, finally setting his phone aside and preparing to grab his gear. “We’ll just pretend we didn’t hear her until she comes storming in here to yell at you, huh?”

Haibara, still laughing, looked between the others. “I feel like I’m missing something here. Why does she keep coming to you?”

“Because,” Gojo said, crossing his arms and grinning widely, “we’ve been best friends forever, and she knows I’ve always got her back. And extra clothes, apparently.”

“Of course, you do,” Geto muttered, knowing full well how often Gojo would come to the rescue with something random, like extra gym clothes.

As the knock echoed one last time, Gojo walked over to the door, his grin widening. “I’ll be right back, boys. Gotta go save the day again.”

With that, Gojo opened the door just enough to pass the clothes through. On the other side, you stood there, looking far too confident, hands on your hips.

“Finally,” you said, clearly relieved.

The guys inside the locker room shared a look. Haibara raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by the casual intimacy you and Gojo shared, while Nanami just rolled his eyes, still more focused on his gear.

Gojo handed you the clothes with a flourish, his grin teasing. “There you go. All set, bestie.”

Haibara couldn’t help but laugh, glancing at Nanami. “I think I get it now. It’s like a lifelong partnership or something.”

“Ugh, don’t even start with me,” Nanami muttered, clearly unimpressed by the antics. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand them.”

Gojo, still grinning, turned back to face them. “You’ll get used to it. We’re just that special.”

You strolled in, looking like you were swimming in Gojo’s oversized clothes. The bright white shirt, two sizes too large, hung loosely around your frame, and the athletic shorts were practically falling off, held up only by the drawstring. The sleeves of the shirt were rolled up, but still, they almost reached your elbows, and the whole ensemble looked like it could swallow you whole. You had clearly taken Gojo’s extra clothes without a second thought.

The silence lingered for a moment before Geto was the first to break it, raising an eyebrow. “Did you really have to wear that?” he asked, unable to suppress a smirk.

You grinned at him, completely unfazed by the attention. “What? It’s not like I had any other option. Gojo said it’s his ‘emergency backup’ set. his stuff is basically my stuff so it doesnt matter now” You tugged at the fabric, making it bunch up around your waist in a way that could only be described as absurd.

Haibara blinked, completely taken aback by the sight. “Whoa. I didn’t know Gojo’s clothes were that… big.” He stifled a laugh, clearly impressed with your choice of fashions.

Shoko snorted from her spot on the sideline, rolling her eyes as she leaned back. “You look ridiculous.” Her voice was lazy, but you could tell she was trying not to laugh. “But Gojo’s clothes being your option is so stupid, you could’ve just come get me”

“Shut up,” you said, still grinning. “It’s too late now… I’m rolling with it. Besides, Gojo’s just mad because I look better in his clothes than he does.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” Gojo called out from the corner, where he had been stretching. He had a huge grin plastered on his face, though, clearly entertained by the sight of you swaying around in his oversized gear. “Don’t talk about me like I’m not a part of this!”

You turned to face him, hands on your hips, still unapologetically drowning in his clothes. “Well, if you didn’t have such giant clothes lying around, I wouldn’t have to make do with your fancy leftovers.”

Shoko chuckled, her gaze sliding from you to Gojo. “The best part is that he doesn’t mind you wearing his stuff at all. Can you imagine if anyone else tried it? Gojo would probably lose it.”

Gojo just shrugged, a playful smirk on his face as he approached you. “I’m a generous guy. Plus, I have to make sure my best friend is always prepared, right?” He placed a hand on your shoulder, the sleeve of his shirt hanging off his arm in a dramatic way, almost like he was trying to own the moment.

Geto, clearly amused, raised his hands. “Alright, alright, no need to show off. We get it, Gojo. You’re a walking charity case for your best friend.”

“Exactly!” Gojo said, his grin turning teasing. “I’m just too kind for my own good.”

You shot him a playful look. “And I’m way too cute for my own good.”

Haibara laughed, his energy returning as he clapped his hands together.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile never left your face. “Okay, okay. I’m done here.” You threw a quick wink at Gojo before turning toward the training mats. “Let’s get to it before Gojo finds any more of his ‘emergency backups’ for me to wear.”

As you walked toward the center of the training ground, you could hear Gojo calling out to you. “I’m serious! You do look better in them!”

Geto, shaking his head with an amused smile, looked at Shoko. “I think we’re going to be hearing about this for a while.”

“Yeah,” Shoko replied with a lazy grin. “I’ll bet five yen that Gojo’s gonna ask for his clothes back before the day ends.”

“only 5?”

You could hear Gojo’s dramatic sigh from across the field. “I can’t believe you don’t think I look amazing in those clothes,” he shouted, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

It was definitely going to be a long day. Your gaze shifted to the two unfamiliar faces standing across from you Nanami and Haibara. It was clear they were second and first years, respectively, though they carried themselves with maturity and confidence.

Gojo, as always, was casually leaning against a nearby post, grinning like a Cheshire cat. He’d somehow convinced you to show up in his clothes, and now he was basking in the aftermath of his “success.”

“You’re all probably wondering who the new guys are,” Gojo said, interrupting the silence as he gestured lazily toward Nanami and Haibara. “Well, let me introduce you. This is Nanami Kento, secondyear extraordinaire. And this is Haibara, my fun loving first year protege.”

You turned to face them fully, giving them both a friendly smile. “Nice to meet you both! I’m Y/n” You started,

Nanami gave a polite, composed nod. “I’ve heard of you. It’s an honor to work with someone as experienced as you.” His tone was calm and respectful, and you appreciated the sincerity in his voice.

Haibara, on the other hand, gave a bright grin and waved a bit awkwardly, clearly the more approachable of the two. “I’m Haibara! It’s awesome to meet you! I’ve heard all kinds of stories about your missions!” He seemed excited to be working with someone more seasoned.

You chuckled, brushing your hair back with one hand. “Stories, huh? Well, I wouldn’t say I’m that special more like I’m just always on the move for missions.”

You took a step closer to Nanami and Haibara, giving them both an appraising look. “But I’ve got to say, you two are way nicer than Gojo made you sound,” you added with a smirk, casting a sideeye at your best friend who was still standing off to the side, acting like he owned the whole training field.

Gojo made an exaggerated gasp, clutching his chest. “Ouch, that hurts! I’m so nice, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He grinned wide, clearly trying to downplay the jab.

Haibara laughed softly at the exchange, clearly amused by the dynamic between you and Gojo. “Yeah, he makes everything sound way more dramatic than it needs to be,” he said, giving Gojo a playful look. “I mean, come on nice is an understatement when it comes to you.”

You nodded in agreement, crossing your arms with a smirk. “Exactly. Look at this guy,” you said, gesturing to Gojo. “He acts like he’s the only one who can be ‘fun,’ but honestly, I think you two are way easier to talk to.” You directed the compliment toward Nanami and Haibara.

Nanami gave a small, almost imperceptible smile, his usual stoic demeanor softening just a little. “I suppose we have our own way of approaching things. We prefer to focus on the task at hand.”

“Yeah,” Haibara chimed in enthusiastically, “but we’re still here to have fun! I think I’ll like working with you.”

You raised an eyebrow, impressed by their reactions. “I think I might too,” you said. “You’re both way less dramatic than Gojo it’s refreshing.”

Gojo, ever the dramatic one, threw his arms in the air. “Why does everyone gang up on me? I’m such a good person!” His voice was full of mock offense, though it was clear he was enjoying the attention.

“Maybe we’ll see how good you are once we start training,” you teased, turning back to Nanami and Haibara. “But seriously, it’s nice to meet you two. I’ve been out of the loop with missions, so I don’t get to interact with many of the underclassmen.”

“We’ll make sure you don’t regret it,” Haibara said with a wink. “And hey, maybe you’ll teach me a few things?”

You chuckled. “I’m sure I’ll learn a lot from you two as well. Though, I warn you, Gojo’s the one with all the dramatic stories, not me.”

Gojo crossed his arms, feigning a pout. “Hey, I’m allowed to be dramatic! It’s part of my charm!”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, earning a small laugh from Haibara and even a slight smile from Nanami.

“Well,” you continued, turning back to Nanami and Haibara, “looks like we’ve got a good team. No drama just pure talent.”

Geto, who had been quiet for most of the exchange, looked between you and Gojo before smirking. “You know,” he said, “if you keep defending Gojo like that, you’re going to make him insufferable.”

Gojo immediately grinned and winked at you. “See? They get me.”

You just shook your head. “I’ll stick with you guys, as long as Gojo doesn’t start talking too much.”

Gojo gasped. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but I’m not sure if you’re actually joking!”

Laughing, you turned to Nanami and Haibara. “Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. But, seriously, it’s great to finally meet you both in person.”

It was clear that Gojo and Geto were in their usual mood mischievous, but with a hint of cruelty. You had seen this before, especially when they started ganging up on someone, and you could tell that Nanami was in for it. He was a bit too serious for their liking, and you both knew how much they enjoyed poking fun at anyone who didn’t quite fit their mold.

Gojo was the first to break the silence, his grin wide and devilish. He took a slow step toward Nanami, sizing him up with an exaggerated scrutinizing gaze. “So, Nanami, you really think you can handle this, huh? I hope you’ve been training hard, ’cause I don’t go easy on anyone.” He clicked his tongue and raised an eyebrow, feigning disappointment. “I mean, I guess you’re okay for a secondyear, but we both know you can barely keep up with me.”

Nanami, who had been standing calmly with his arms crossed, gave Gojo a cool stare. “I’m not worried,” he replied, his tone neutral but firm. He wasn’t one to back down easily, and that only seemed to fuel Gojo’s amusement further.

Geto leaned in from the side with a knowing smirk, folding his arms across his chest. “You know, Gojo, Nanami might be too uptight for this field. His whole ‘serious’ vibe isn’t exactly the best for fighting. I mean, I can already see you wiping the floor with him, but maybe we should make this fun.” His eyes flickered with mischief, and he made no effort to hide the fact that he was provoking Nanami.

You could already tell they were about to turn this into something personal. Gojo and Geto had a way of driving people insane with their teasing, pushing buttons until it was almost unbearable.

Gojo snickered, tilting his head to the side. “I gotta admit, though, Nanami, it’s pretty cute that you think you can hang with us.” He looked over to you, his grin widening. “Don’t you think so, Y/n? You’ve seen this before. Nanami’s so stiff. I mean, if I wanted someone to train in perfect posture, he’s the guy, but in a fight? Not so much.” He made an exaggerated motion with his arms to show how rigid Nanami seemed.

Geto let out a low laugh, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe we should give him a proper warmup before he gets embarrassed in front of everyone.” His eyes glinted with something darker, something that said he wasn’t going to stop unless someone intervened.

You stepped forward, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, knock it off. You two are really pushing it today. You know Nanami can hold his own.” You threw a protective arm around Nanami’s shoulders, trying to shield him from the escalating teasing.

But Gojo wasn’t having it. “Come on, Y/n. You really think he can handle me?” His voice was loud and dramatic, clearly trying to get a rise out of both you and Nanami. “You know, you are a secondyear, Nanami, but you’ve got a lot to learn. A lot.”

He moved closer, standing right in front of Nanami now. “Maybe you should take notes. I mean, look at me. I’m basically the perfect fighter. And you” Gojo poked Nanami’s chest in mock sympathy, “you’re just… well, Nanami. Not quite as impressive, huh?”

Geto chimed in, his tone more biting now. “Yeah, Nanami, maybe you should just stand to the side and watch. It’ll be safer for you, trust me.” He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “We wouldn’t want you to get too bruised up by the time this is over.”

Nanami’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. You could tell the teasing was getting under his skin, even if he was trying to hold it together.

You stepped in front of Nanami, this time making sure to get in Gojo and Geto’s faces. “Enough,” you said, your voice firm. “You’re crossing a line.” You were trying to keep things light, but it was becoming obvious that they were being needlessly cruel now.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly not used to anyone standing up to him like this. “What’s the matter, Y/n? He’s a secondyear; this is just how we help people grow. You know that, right?” His eyes sparkled with his usual playful glint, but there was an edge to it now.

Geto smirked, pushing his hair back with one hand. “Yeah, we wouldn’t want Nanami to get soft, would we? It’s for his own good, really.”

You felt your irritation building. “You’re not ‘helping’ him. You’re just being assholes.” You turned to Nanami, giving him a small nod of support. “Don’t let them get to you. They like to joke around, but they’ll cross the line if no one stops them.”

Nanami let out a deep breath, seemingly unfazed. “It’s fine. I’m used to it.” But his clenched jaw told you it wasn’t that fine. You could see he was about to snap, and that was exactly what Gojo and Geto wanted to see just how much they could get under his skin.

Before anything else could escalate, you moved in closer, putting a hand on Gojo’s shoulder and giving him a playful but firm shove. “Cut it out, Gojo. You’re not funny anymore. And Geto” You shot a glare at him, “You’re no better.”

Gojo sighed dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine, we’ll be nice. I guess we can’t have any fun around here, huh?” He shot Nanami a wink, his teasing not quite done but pulled back just enough.

“You know, Y/n,” Geto drawled as he leaned back, “You really are soft when it comes to your friends. I didn’t realize you were such a defender.”

You glared at both of them, turning back to Nanami with a more gentle smile. “Ignore them, Nanami. You’re way better than they give you credit for.”

Nanami gave you a halfsmile, clearly grateful for the support. “Thanks. And I can handle them. I’ve seen worse than these two.”

You nodded, but you knew that Gojo and Geto had left their mark, and that meant you’d have to step in even more if they kept going down this path. But for now, it was over at least until they decided to start again.

“Alright, enough talk,” Gojo finally said with a teasing grin. “Let’s get to training. Nanami, I’ll go easy on you maybe.”

“Maybe?” You said, a hint of sarcasm in your tone. “Go easy on him? That’s rich, coming from you.” You looked at Nanami. “He’s full of it, you know.”

Shoko, still lounging around lazily on the sidelines, yelled out, “You’re all too dramatic. Just spar already!”

With the pressure momentarily off Nanami, everyone shuffled into place to start the sparring. The air had a lighter tone, though you knew Gojo and Geto wouldn’t let up entirely. But at least for now, Nanami had you backing him up, and that was enough to keep them in check. you decided it was safer (and more productive) to spar with Shoko.

Lazy as she was, she was no slouch when it came to combat. The moment you threw a strike, she blocked it effortlessly, twisting her body with a smoothness that made it clear she wasn’t just relying on her reversed cursed technique to stay relevant. You had to admit, for someone who complained about effort, she sure knew how to handle herself.

“Damn, Shoko,” you whistled as she sidestepped another attack. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you actually like training.”

She rolled her eyes, exhaling through her nose. “I don’t. But I also don’t like getting my ribs shattered on missions, so here we are.”

You laughed, stepping back before lunging at her again. “That’s a good point. But, you know” You grinned, pivoting midswing to test her reflexes. She blocked it easily, her movements as fluid as ever. “We don’t have to be those doomed yuri tropes.”

Shoko blinked at you, unimpressed, before immediately twisting your arm behind your back and shoving you forward.

“Ah Shoko, please, my pride”

“You’re the one who started flirting midspar,” she deadpanned, finally releasing you with a lazy shove.

Rubbing your wrist dramatically, you turned to her with a smirk. “Can you blame me? You’re cool, capable”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t start. You already have too many love interests.”

You paused, tilting your head. “What?”

Shoko waved a hand vaguely, as if dismissing the entire concept. “In another universe, maybe you’d actually focus on me and the female gender instead of collecting admirers like a shonen protagonist.”

You narrowed your eyes at her. “…What?”

“Nothing.” She yawned, stretching her arms above her head before shooting you a side glance. “Just saying, if you ever wake up one day and decide men are too exhausting, I’m available.”

Your grin widened. “Noted.”

Before the conversation could go any further, a loud thud interrupted you Gojo had just sent Nanami sprawling across the ground, laughing like a maniac. You both sighed in unison.

“…Do we help him?” you asked.

Shoko rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Let’s give him a minute. Maybe he’ll start fighting back and finally shut Gojo up.”

Unlikely, but it was a nice thought.

₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆After parting ways with Nanami and Haibara, the four of you walked back toward the school. It was unusually quiet too quiet. Normally, Gojo would be running his mouth, filling the air with nonsense, but instead, he just sulked beside you, arms crossed, sunglasses slightly crooked like he was deep in thought over something profoundly lifealtering. Whatever. You stretched, feeling the soreness from sparring with Shoko settling into your muscles. “Man…” you sighed. “Nanami has a really attractive face.”

Dead silence.

“COUGAR!” Gojo practically shrieked, spinning toward you with such force that his sunglasses nearly flew off his face. Geto stopped walking altogether, staring at you like you had just committed the ultimate betrayal. Shoko, who had been lazily walking beside you, hummed in amusement but said nothing, clearly just waiting to see where this went.

You blinked. “What?”

“A COUGAR!” Gojo repeated, pointing at you like you were some sort of criminal. “You’re a whole thirdyear and you’re out here checking out a secondyear?! This is a scandal! A DISGRACE! I’m gonna have to tell Yaga that you’re out here preying on underclassmen”

“Oh my god, shut up,” you groaned, shoving his face away. “He’s, like, one year younger than us. I just said he has a nice face. That’s an objective fact.”

“No, no, no,” Gojo shook his head wildly, grabbing Geto’s shoulders for support like he was about to collapse from shock. “Suguru, are you hearing this? Is this real? Is this real life?”

Geto, who had been staring at you like he was still trying to process what you had said, exhaled heavily. “Yeah, I gotta admit, I didn’t think you were capable of acknowledging anyone was attractive.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Gojo pointed aggressively. “All these years, and Y/n’s never once said anything about me… uh, us! And suddenly, Nanami’s stupid, serious face is worth talking about?”

“His emo blonde hair is kinda nice,” you added, just to get under their skin.

Gojo let out a fullbody gasp, stumbling backward like you had physically struck him. “THE AUDACITY!”

Geto crossed his arms, now fully invested in slandering you. “You’re really out here thirsting over underclassmen, huh? That’s crazy.”

“I didn’t say I was thirsting, I said he has a nice face,” you defended.

“Oh, no, no, no” Gojo wagged a finger at you, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You can’t take it back now. You said it. Out loud. With your mouth. In front of witnesses.”

“Witnesses?” you repeated, deadpan.

“Yes. Three witnesses, in fact,” Geto added, smirking.

“And Y/n, be honest with us,” Gojo said, stepping uncomfortably close. “Was it just his face? Or was it also that cold, brooding, businessmaninthemaking energy? You like ‘em serious, don’t you?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please, I’ve known you my whole life, and you’re the exact opposite of serious.”

“Exactly!” Gojo threw his arms up. “Yet somehow, Nanami is getting all the love?! I’m beautiful!”

“Yeah, and I’m charming,” Geto added, flicking his hair back. “Yet somehow, you’ve never once looked at us and said anything like that. And then along comes little Nanami Kento with his serious face and his ‘I hate working overtime’ attitude, and suddenly, you’re interested?”

“You two are being so dramatic right now,” you groaned.

“We’re heartbroken, Y/n,” Geto sighed. “Absolutely devastated.”

“Tragic, even,” Gojo agreed.

“Completely betrayed.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered, rubbing your temples. “For the last time, I just said he was attractive. That’s literally it. Do you two want me to start commenting on how nice your faces are? Would that make you feel better?”

Gojo and Geto immediately stopped talking. They exchanged glances. Looked at you. Then at each other again. And in unison

“…Maybe.”

You groaned. “Unbelievable.”

Shoko, who had been silently observing the mess unfold, finally leaned over, her voice barely above a whisper. “Y/n, you’re getting so many love interests.”

You shot her a look. “Don’t start.”

She smirked, lighting a cigarette. “I’m just saying. Another universe, maybe you go for me instead. it’ll make tour life easier”

Gojo made another strangled noise, and Geto clutched his chest dramatically like he was about to faint. You, fully regretting everything, walked ahead. This was never going to end.

₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆₍^. .^₎⟆

Gojo’s room was honestly not too horrible today. Clothes were thrown over his desk chair, an empty cup of instant ramen sat on the floor, and at least three pairs of sunglasses were scattered in random places. The sheer mess of it was something you had long since stopped questioning. You sat crosslegged on his bed, phone in hand, lazily scrolling as you replied to a text. Gojo, on the other hand, was lying upside down on the floor, feet propped up against the wall, a lollipop in his mouth as he tossed a ball up and down.

It was peaceful.

“Who are you texting?”

You barely glanced up. “Nanami.” The sound of the ball hitting the floor was immediate.

“WHAT.” Before you could react, Gojo launched himself onto the bed, nearly knocking the phone out of your hands.

“HEY!” you yelped, holding your phone out of reach.

“You’re texting Nanami?!” Gojo shrieked, eyes wide with betrayal.

“Yes?” You raised a brow. “Why are you acting like I committed a war crime?”

Gojo dramatically flopped onto the bed beside you. “Oh my god, Y/n. When did this happen? When did you two become texting buddies?!”

“Literally today.”

“AND YOU DIDN’T THINK TO CONSULT ME?” He rolled onto his stomach, staring at you like you’d personally destroyed his worldview. “What could you possibly have to text Nanami about?”

“Books,” you replied simply.

Gojo stared at you for a long moment. “Books,” he repeated.

“Yes.” “That’s it?” “Yeah.”

He groaned, flopping facedown into the mattress. “You’re so boring.”

“You asked.”

Gojo turned his head dramatically. “Wait. Wait. Hold on.” His sunglasses had slipped down his nose, blue eyes squinting at you. “Are you… flirting?”

You blinked. “I just said we’re talking about books.” “But are you flirttexting about books?”

You stared at him. “What does that even mean?”

“You know, like ‘Oh Nanami, I simply adore the way you analyze classic literature~’” Gojo put on a terrible impression of you, complete with dramatic hand gestures.

You smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

“Oh my god.” Gojo sat up, eyes wide. “You like him. You think he’s hot.”

“I literally already said he has an attractive face,” you deadpanned.

“But that was in the moment!” Gojo gestured wildly. “Now you’re thinking about him. Texting him. This is a whole new level!”

You rolled your eyes, shoving your phone in your pocket. “You’re so dramatic.”

Gojo grabbed his chest like you’d just stabbed him. “I just never thought I’d see the day,” he gasped. “My best friend, my precious best friend, betraying me like this.”

“Oh my god, get a grip.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” He collapsed backward onto the bed. “Go on, text your boyfriend. I’ll just sit here. Alone. Forgotten.”

You stared down at him before shoving a pillow over his face. Gojo immediately started flailing. “HELP! I’M BEING ATTACKED BY A TRAITOR!”

You groaned, shoving him off the bed. “If I knew texting Nanami would get this reaction, I would’ve done it sooner.”

Gojo, lying facedown on the floor, groaned. “I hate you.”

You pulled your phone out again “Nanami’s way more pleasant than you, anyway.”

Gojo screeched. This was never going to end. Gojo groaned dramatically from the floor, limbs sprawled like he’d just been hit by a truck. “I cannot believe this. My best friend, my one and only, has been stolen from me by a second year emo.”

You rolled your eyes, scrolling through your phone. “calm down big guy.”

Gojo peeked up at you, then, with zero warning, launched himself back onto the bed, flopping down beside you. The mattress bounced under his weight, and he made no effort to respect personal space, lying close enough that his shoulder pressed into yours. “I’m being serious,” he whined, dramatically resting his head on your shoulder. “What does Nanami have that I don’t?”

“Selfrestraint,” you said without missing a beat. Gojo gasped. “Excuse me?” He lifted his head to squint at you, affronted. “I have so much selfrestraint.”

“You just threw yourself onto me because I texted someone.”

“Okay, but that’s different,” he huffed, rolling onto his side to face you. “You never text people first.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh yeah?” He raised an eyebrow. “Name one person.”

“…Shoko.”

“Shoko doesn’t count. She texts you first.”

“…Geto?”

Gojo scoffed. “You text him, like, twice a week.”

“That’s still texting someone.”

He groaned, rolling onto his back and dramatically covering his face. “Ugh, whatever. I just think it’s suspicious that the first person you suddenly feel like texting is Nanami.”

“You’re just mad I called him attractive.”

“Because you never call people attractive!” He flailed a hand in the air. “You refuse to acknowledge anyone’s hotness! Then suddenly, you meet Nanami, and it’s all ‘Oh, what a nice face he has~’”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“That’s exactly how you sound.”

You let out a sigh, tilting your head toward him. “Okay, would it make you feel better if I said you were attractive?” Gojo immediately sat up, looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

You blinked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m just processing,” he said flatly.

“…Processing what?”

“That was the first time you’ve ever complimented my looks.”

You frowned. “That’s not true.”

“It is true,” he deadpanned. “I compliment you all the time. I tell you you’re pretty, I hype you up”

“And you sound insufferable every time,” you cut in.

“and I get nothing in return,” he continued as if you hadn’t spoken.

“Meanwhile, Nanami shows up for one training session, and suddenly you’re swooning.”

You groaned, rubbing your temple. “I am not swooning.”

Gojo flopped back down beside you, still pouting. “If you start dating Nanami, I’m gonna die.”

You snorted. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah. Just drop dead on the spot.” He sighed dramatically. “My fragile heart won’t be able to take it.”

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention back to your phone. “You’re ridiculous.”

Gojo tilted his head toward you, watching as you lazily scrolled through your messages. He didn’t say anything for a moment, but then, in a much quieter voice, he said

“…You really think I’m attractive?”

You sideeyed him, unimpressed. “Don’t push it.” He grinned, his usual dramatic energy returning in an instant. “Oh, I’m pushing it. Say it again. Tell me how handsome I am.”

“No.” “Say it.” “Gojo ” “Saaay iiiit.”

You grabbed a pillow and smacked him in the face. Gojo laughed, grabbing his own pillow and swinging back. And just like that, the teasing shifted into fullon mess, the two of you whacking each other like children, the earlier conversation long forgotten.

Gojo had you in a headlock. Not a real one more like a loose, ridiculous mess of tangled limbs and pillows as the aftermath of your impromptu pillow fight. His sunglasses were long gone, lost somewhere in the depths of his disaster of a room, and his snowwhite hair was a mess, sticking up at odd angles.

You huffed, lying sprawled out beside him, out of breath from all the laughter. Your head rested against his shoulder, and neither of you had the energy to move. The room was quiet now, save for the occasional sound of Gojo shifting beside you. Then, after a long pause, he murmured, “You know… you never answered me.”

You cracked one eye open. “Answered what?”

“If you think I’m attractive,” he said, voice teasing, but there was something else beneath it. Something more serious.

You closed your eyes again. This was a trap. If you said no, he’d call you a liar. If you said yes, you’d never hear the end of it.…But also. You weren’t a liar. So, with an exhale, you muttered, “Yeah.”

Gojo stiffened. You felt it immediately the slight tensing of his arm beneath you, the way his breathing hitched just a little. Then, because you weren’t about to deal with the consequences of that admission, you immediately went limp against him.

“…Y/n.” You didn’t move. Gojo poked your cheek. “You’re not asleep.” No response. Another poke. “You literally just talked.” Nothing. Gojo groaned, shifting so he could look down at you. “You’re the worst.”

Still, you remained perfectly still, face neutral, pretending to be deep in sleep. For a moment, he said nothing. Just stared at you, his arm still around your shoulder, your body still leaning against him. You weren’t sure what he was thinking, but you could feel the intensity of his gaze, the rare stillness in his presence.

Then, in a voice much softer than before, he said “Go out with me.”

Silence. Your heart did not just skip a beat. That was just… a bodily malfunction.

Gojo nudged your side. “I know you’re faking.” Nothing. “You’re such a coward,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to it. Just amusement. Maybe a little fondness.

He sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow. Then, instead of pushing you away, he tightened his arm around you, pulling you closer.

“You’re gonna have to answer me eventually,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

You didn’t move. Didn’t react. Didn’t let your face betray anything. But you felt everything. Gojo didn’t let go.

The soft sound of Gojo’s steady breathing filled the room as you slowly woke up, the weight of his arm still draped across your shoulders, pulling you in close. The sunlight had shifted, casting a warm glow through the blinds. You blinked a few times, your mind foggy as you tried to get your bearings. You were lying against Gojo’s chest, his body relaxed, his head resting on the pillow. The way he had wrapped himself around you in his sleep made it feel like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon. His presence usually so present and overwhelming was now replaced by the calm of someone who’d finally let himself rest. You let out a quiet sigh, shifting slightly but careful not to disturb him. His breathing didn’t change, and you realized he was sound asleep. Your thoughts wandered, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

“…I’m not stupid.” You spoke softly, not intending to wake him up. It was more of a mumble to yourself. But as you muttered those words, something inside you shifted, like a weight that had been hanging in the back of your mind finally settling into place.

“I see it now,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Both of you.”

You let your eyes wander over to Gojo’s peaceful face, watching the way his features softened in sleep. Then, your thoughts turned to Geto. They were always together. The way they acted so close, so constantly wrapped up in each other’s orbit. Too close. It was almost like a competition for your attention, only you hadn’t realized it until now. It wasn’t until they both started acting so ridiculously possessive that the pieces finally clicked together.

You chuckled bitterly, shifting again and trying to untangle yourself from Gojo’s arm without waking him.

“Honestly… how did I not see it sooner?” You muttered to yourself, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “They’re both so obvious about it.”

Gojo shifted a bit in his sleep, his arm tightening slightly around you as if in response to your movements. You stilled, eyes wide for a moment, but then you relaxed, biting your lip.

“You know, it’s honestly kind of embarrassing,” you continued, still not fully processing how much you were revealing to yourself out loud. “Both of them… acting like they’re fighting for my attention. Like I’m some sort of prize.”

You laughed under your breath. “But I’m not stupid. I can see what they’re doing.”

The realization was so simple and yet so unexpected. Gojo’s flirty teasing, his relentless need for validation, and Geto’s cool demeanor that had a little too much weight behind it when it came to you it all clicked. They weren’t just being weird. They were being deliberate. You looked at Gojo again, his face serene in sleep, the playful, arrogant grin from earlier now replaced by a quiet, almost vulnerable expression. He was the same as always, but in a way, he wasn’t. You realized you couldn’t quite figure out what was going on with him, and it made your heart race just a little faster than you wanted to admit. With a sigh, you mumbled to yourself again, though the words felt heavier this time.

“I should be annoyed. I should be, right?”

You let the silence hang for a moment. But you weren’t. Instead, a quiet warmth spread through you, making you feel both frustrated and comforted at the same time. Gojo had always been the one to keep things a mess. But with the way he held you now his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his breathing soft against your skin it almost felt… intimate.

You knew you couldn’t let yourself fall into the trap of his teasing, not this time. You had to be rational. But then again, you couldn’t ignore it either. You found yourself slowly letting your eyes slip closed again, not yet ready to face the mess of thoughts swirling inside your head. You barely realized you were drifting back into sleep until you felt Gojo’s hand gently rub circles on your back, as if he’d woken up without you noticing.

“…You’re not stupid,” he murmured sleepily, his voice rough with sleep. “I’m just really bad at hiding it.”

You froze, eyes snapping open as you realized he was awake. He shifted again, his arm sliding around you in a way that wasn’t exactly innocent. His face was still soft, though there was an unmistakable glint of mischief in his eyes. “You heard all that?” You asked, your voice a mix of shock and mild embarrassment.

He just smirked, the same playful smirk you’d known for years. “I always hear you, Y/n.”

You sat there in Gojo’s room, the weight of everything you’d said hanging between you. Gojo sat next to you, his usual carefree attitude nowhere to be found, though he tried to keep it together. He had his hand resting on the bed beside you, but the tension in his posture was clear. He’d listened quietly as you tried to untangle the mess of your feelings, but there was an undeniable frustration brewing inside him. He couldn’t deny it. A small part of him the selfish part was frustrated. He hated the way you were caught between him and Geto, like some kind of tugofwar. He had always been the one to be there for you. He had always been the one who made you laugh, who kept you grounded. And now, he was sharing you with someone else, someone who didn’t get to be your best friend in the same way he did. He wanted to tell you how much he loved you. How he always had. But instead, he was holding back, trying to be supportive, trying to be the best friend you needed, even though it was tearing him up inside. You weren’t making it easy on him, though. And maybe it was selfish, maybe it was wrong, but the thought of losing you to Geto or anyone else made him feel like his insides were twisting in knots. But Gojo wasn’t going to let that show. Not yet.

“You’re my best friend, Gojo,” you said, your voice quiet. Your words were like a balm, but they didn’t ease the frustration that was bubbling inside of him. Not yet. “You’ve been my best friend for so long, and I I love you. I do. But…” You trailed off, and Gojo held his breath, desperate to hear you continue, desperate for something anything that would tell him you felt the same.

“But then there’s Geto, too,” you finished, and Gojo had to fight the urge to grit his teeth.

His heart was pounding, and for a moment, he had to resist the urge to blurt out everything he had ever wanted to say. But no, he couldn’t. Not yet. He stayed silent, giving you space to work through it. He could hear the quiet pain in your voice, the way you were trying to figure everything out, but it was frustrating. So frustrating.

“Gojo,” you continued, meeting his gaze, and for a brief moment, his mask almost cracked. You looked so vulnerable, so unsure, and he couldn’t help but feel protective of you. But that little selfish part of him still wanted to yell, to make you choose him. “I don’t even know if romance is something I should be thinking about right now. Everything’s so messed up lately. Both you and Geto started, like… vouching for my affection out of nowhere, and it just…” You stopped, looking down, and Gojo swallowed hard, trying to push the frustration aside for now. “It’s made my head spin.”

He wanted to say something. To tell you that it wasn’t like that, that he had always been here for you, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to be calm, to just be there for you. He had to, even if it was tearing him up inside. “You’re not alone in this, Y/n,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, even though the jealousy was gnawing at him. “You don’t have to figure it out right now. You never rush into anything. You always take your time. So don’t let all this pressure you.”

You shook your head, running a hand through your hair in frustration. “I know. I just ” You exhaled deeply, turning toward him. “It’s just hard. When I’m with you, I feel… safe and seen. And when I’m with Geto, I also have that feeling. And both of you are important to me.” And there it was. The words Gojo had been dreading to hear. Not that he didn’t understand. He did. He knew what it was like to have different people give you different things, but for him, it was hard to hear that you felt seen by someone else.

“Y/n,” he said softly, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice. But his mind couldn’t help but flash to the thought of Geto touching you, of being with you in a way that Gojo couldn’t. He wanted to push those thoughts away. He had to. He was being the best friend you needed. “You’re not going to lose us, okay? Ever. Whatever happens, we’re still your friends. No matter what.”

But his mind was still reeling, and a small, selfish part of him wanted to say, Screw that. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want you to choose me. He couldn’t, though. He wouldn’t say it. Not yet. You met his gaze, your expression softening, but there was still that uncertainty there, lingering. Gojo could tell you were still processing everything. And that was fine. He would give you the time you needed, even if it was killing him inside.

But when you spoke again, your voice quieter, more tentative, Gojo felt his heart race, but this time, it wasn’t out of frustration. It was out of something else. “Thanks, Gojo. You’re always there for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His chest tightened at your words, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit of relief. It wasn’t everything he wanted to hear, but it was something. He reached out, his hand resting on yours, his fingers curling around your hand gently. “Don’t mention it. I’ll always be here for you. I’m your best friend. That’s what best friends do.”

But deep down, there was still that selfish part of him that wanted more. That wanted to be the one you chose. And maybe, just maybe, he would get that chance. But for now, he could only wait.

Gojo: [leaning casually against your desk] So… when are you gonna realize I’m in love with you?

You: Oh, you’re in love? With who? Tell me! I’ll help you!

Gojo:

Gojo: [wheezing] No one, actually. I’m dead inside.

taglist: @pandabiene5115 @inthedarkshadows000

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

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gojo satoru x reader

geto suguru x reader

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5. what kind of woman are you attracted too?

masterlist

I felt I wasnt nurturing the bond between gojo and geto. like they are close friends and I feel the bond that they have would still remain though strained in this trope. Geto and Gojo support each other but are each other’s downfall. Like you know how in the show its the jujutusu kaisen world that was hurting each other. Make it you.

You had barely sat down with your breakfast when Gojo appeared out of nowhere, plopping into the seat across from you with a grin that immediately put you on edge.

“…What?” you asked, eyeing him warily.

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “So.” You sighed. “So?”

He wiggled his fingers in your direction. “Tell me.”

You blinked. “Tell you what?”

Gojo tilted his head. “What kind of person you’d date.”

You froze mid bite. “…Huh?”

He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently. “Your type. Preferences. Ideal boyfriend.” He leaned in further, grinning. “Or girlfriend, I don’t judge.”

Your face heated slightly, but you quickly masked it with a deadpan look. “Why do you care?”

Gojo gasped, placing a hand over his heart as if deeply offended. “Excuse me? As your best friend, I need to know these things.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Since when?”

Gojo waved a hand dismissively. “Since always.”

You sighed, going back to your food. “And what are you going to do with this information?”

“Oh, you know.” He twirled his chopsticks between his fingers. “Just… make sure you don’t end up with someone lame.”

You snorted. “Lame?”

“Yes, lame.” He jabbed his chopsticks toward you. “Like some guy who doesn’t get your jokes, or can’t keep up with you in a fight, or, God forbid is boring.”

You gave him a look. “You realize you’re sounding like you’re hinting at something”

Gojo grinned. “Wow. Can’t believe you’d just admit your feelings like that.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “That’s not what I said.” “But it’s what you meant.” “Absolutely not.”

He watched you for a moment, unreadable behind his ever present sunglasses. Then, his smirk softened just a fraction, his voice taking on a more casual tone. “I just think you deserve someone great, y’know? Not some broody guy who thinks too much, or someone who carries the weight of the world like it’s his personal burden. Definitely not someone who overcomplicates things when they could just… I don’t know, be happy.”

Your stomach twisted, and you suddenly you had a feeling you understood exactly who he was talking about. Suguru.

Your throat tightened slightly, but you masked it with an eye roll. “Uh huh. And you’re saying you don’t overcomplicate things?”

Gojo’s grin was immediate. “Please, I’m a simple man. Good food, good company, and looking absolutely amazing at all times? That’s all I need.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Right. Of course.”

Gojo propped his chin in his palm, watching you with something suspiciously close to fondness.

Your stomach flipped slightly, but you quickly masked it. “Why do you care?”

“Because I have to care. What if you end up with a loser?”

You snorted. “I think I can handle myself.”

“Sure, sure, but like…” He gestured vaguely. “I have standards for you, y’know?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Your standards?” He nodded sagely. “Yep. And obviously, only the best will do.”

You rolled your eyes, deciding to humor him. “Alright, then. What are your standards?”

Gojo smirked. “Glad you asked.” He held up a finger. “One, they have to be funny because if they’re boring, I’ll have to personally intervene.” Another finger. “Two, they have to be cool but, like, not cooler than me because that’s just unrealistic.” A third finger. “Three, they have to be strong because if they’re not, then I’ll have to protect both of you, and that’s just exhausting.”

You gave him a deadpan look. “So basically, you just described yourself again.”

Gojo gasped, “Are you saying I would be your perfect match?”

You groaned, shoving his shoulder. “That’s not what I said.”

Gojo grinned, sitting back up. “No, no, I totally get it now.” He waggled his eyebrows. “You’ve just been too shy to admit you’re into me.”

You scoffed. “I promise you, that is not the case.”

He pouted. “Deny it all you want, but the evidence is right there.”

“What evidence?!”

“The fact that you haven’t answered my question!” Gojo leaned forward again, grinning. “Come onnn, what’s your type? Tall? Handsome? White haired?” You picked up your toast and took a pointedly long bite, refusing to answer.

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Silence? That means I’m right.” You chewed slowly, making direct eye contact. “I just don’t feel like feeding your already enormous ego.”

He leaned back, frowning. “C’mon, just tell me. Do you like the cool, broody type? The serious, stoic kind? Or are you more into, like, hilarious, handsome, and incredibly talented men?”

You shot him a flat look. “Gojo.”

“Hmm?”

“Eat your breakfast.”

He pouted. “You’re dodging the question.”

You sighed, standing up with your tray. “That’s because I don’t have to answer it.”

Gojo hummed, watching you go. Then, just as you reached the door, he called out. “You do like me, though, right?” You didn’t give him the satisfaction of a response and that was definitely not the reason you left the cafeteria so quickly.

—

You walked down the hall, gripping your tray a little tighter than necessary. What was that? Gojo was always like this annoying, teasing, insufferable. Maybe it was the way he kept pressing the issue, like he needed an answer. Like it mattered to him.

You sighed, setting your tray down at the dish return. It doesn’t mean anything. He’s just being Gojo. That was what he did: push buttons, crack jokes, demand attention. But then there was that last question.

“You do like me, though, right?”

You frowned, rubbing your temples. He’d said it so casually, like he was asking if you liked a new snack from the vending machine. But there had been something else beneath it something just a little too expectant, like he cared what you would say. that was the problem. Because if it was just a joke, you could roll your eyes and move on. But if there was even a chance that Gojo was being serious…

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. Nope. Not going down that road. Gojo was your best friend. He was ridiculous and loud and overwhelming, but he was Gojo. Thinking about him like that would just cause problems. You felt heat rise to your cheeks and groaned. Shoko and Utahime have ruined my brain. Because now, instead of just brushing it off like usual, their teasing from last night lingered. “Geto’s got the slow burn, weird emo thing going for him.”

“Gojo? Oh, he’s a mess over them.” You bit your lip, glancing toward the cafeteria doors as if expecting Gojo to come waltzing through them at any moment. You needed to not overthink this. Maybe Gojo was just being dramatic. Maybe he was just teasing. You shook your head, turning on your heel. Nope. Still not thinking about it. Gojo was just being Gojo. That’s what you kept telling yourself. He teased, he poked, he demanded attention nothing new. But the way he’d said it… the way he looked at you… There was something different about it, something that lingered in the back of your mind like a stray thread you couldn’t stop tugging at. You sighed, pressing your fingers to your temples. Nope. Not doing this. Not overthinking.

You turned a corner, passing by one of the common rooms, when a familiar voice made you pause. Geto.

You hadn’t meant to stop, but something about the way he was talking held you in place. His voice was quieter than usual, thoughtful. Curiosity prickled at you, and before you could think better of it, you took a step closer, peeking around the corner to stay out of sight. Geto stood near the vending machines, his usual relaxed posture leaning slightly against the wall. His expression was softer than usual, absent of the teasing smirks you were used to. Across from him stood a second year student, who was listening intently with a playful grin.

“Yeah, she always forgets to bring water, so I figured I’d keep an extra bottle for her,” Geto was saying, his tone almost casual but laced with something gentler You blinked, confusion stirring in your chest. Who was he talking about? “She never remembers to eat in between training either,” Geto continued, a fond, almost exasperated smile tugging at his lips. “Always running around, taking care of everyone else first.” He let out a small chuckle that sounded far too tender. “So, I just make sure to bring extra snacks. Nothing big. Just enough so she won’t notice I’m looking out for her.”

The second year grinned, nudging his shoulder. “Sounds like you’re practically her caretaker at this point.”

Geto laughed softly, a sound that warmed your chest and left your heart aching. “Nah. She’s plenty capable on her own. But, y’know…” His gaze shifted away, his fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s nice. Making sure she’s okay.”

Your mind whirled, trying to piece together what you were hearing. Geto had always been reliable, steady a calming presence when things got too overwhelming. But this… this felt different. It felt deliberate. Personal. You should have stepped out. Made a joke, teased him about his “caretaker” status, anything. Instead, you stayed rooted in place, eyes wide and heart thumping.

“Come on, Suguru,” the second year teased, their tone light. “Sounds to me like you’re a little more invested than just looking out for her.”

Geto rolled his eyes, but the flush on his cheeks betrayed him. “It’s not like that. I just… care about her, okay?” Your breath caught, your chest tightening. Was he really talking about someone like that? Like that?

“Uh-huh,” the second year hummed. “I think you care a little more than you’re letting on.”

Geto hesitated, his gaze lowering. “You’re really that surprised? She’s incredible. How could I not like her?” Your heart stuttered, the air catching in your throat.

The second year laughed, nudging him again. “Wow, you’re seriously gone, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Geto chuckled, a sound that was quieter and self deprecating. “Go ahead and say it. I know I’m obvious.” A beat. “Not like it matters.” The lightness in his voice faltered, and there was a heaviness that weighed the air down. You stared, caught between wanting to stay and needing to leave before your presence was discovered.

“What do you mean, it doesn’t matter?” the second year asked, a little more serious now.

Geto sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just bad timing. Or maybe it’s just… not meant to be like that.”

Your chest tightened painfully, a confusing mix of emotions crashing over you. Disbelief, confusion, curiosity something deeper, something raw. The second year seemed to sense the weight of his words, and they shifted awkwardly. “I think you’re overthinking it, Suguru. Maybe it’s simpler than that.”

Geto offered a small, wry smile. “Or it’s just… complicated.”

Your breath was too shallow, your skin too warm. You had no idea what to make of any of this of Geto’s tone, his words, the vulnerability in his voice. Before you could make sense of it all, the sound of approaching footsteps snapped you back to reality. Your heart lurched, panic flooding your veins. You turned on your heel and walked away quickly, leaving Geto’s quiet confession behind. The echoes of his voice lingered in your mind, heavy and impossible to ignore. Who was he talking about? Was it someone you knew? Someone close to him? The questions followed you down the hall, unrelenting and insistent.

—

The library was quiet except for the occasional rustle of pages and the faint scratching of a pen against paper. You sat across from Geto at a secluded table, textbooks and notes sprawled between you. The plan had been to actually study, but as usual, things weren’t going according to plan. “Are you even listening?” you asked, tapping your pen against the open textbook in front of you.

Geto smirked, not looking up from where he was casually spinning his own pen between his fingers. “Hmm? Oh, of course. Every single word.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay. Then tell me what I just said.”

Geto finally glanced up, resting his chin on his hand. “Something about… the properties of cursed energy reinforcement?”

You deadpanned. “That was twenty minutes ago.”

He chuckled, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright, you caught me. Maybe I got a little distracted.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Geto, we actually need to study.”

“I am studying,” he said smoothly, tilting his head. “I’m studying you.”

You blinked. “What?”

His lips twitched into a smirk. “I mean, it’s more entertaining than cursed energy formulas, don’t you think?”

You rolled your eyes. “dont be weird, I kinda would like to pass and never have to be here again.”

He placed a hand over his heart in mock sincerity. “I would never. I’m just making an observation.”

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. “Fine, if you’re not going to take this seriously, I’ll just—”

Before you could finish, Geto leaned forward, smoothly plucking your pen from your fingers and twirling it between his own. “Relax,” he said, voice softer now, less teasing. “You’re always so focused on making sure we don’t fall behind, but when’s the last time you took a break?” You opened your mouth, then hesitated. “…That’s what I thought,” he said, giving you a knowing look. “It’s okay to slow down, y’know?”

You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “I just don’t want to fail.”

Geto’s smirk softened into something almost fond. “You won’t. You’re way too stubborn for that.”

You snorted despite yourself. “That supposed to be a compliment?”

“Absolutely.” He twirled the pen once more before handing it back to you, fingers brushing yours for just a second too long. “Now, if it’ll help, I promise to actually focus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He placed a hand over his heart again. “Scouts honor.” You gave him a skeptical look, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Alright… but im not helping you again if you dont focus”

“Deal,” Geto said, grinning.

And for the next hour, he actually did focus though, every now and then, you caught him watching you with that same quiet, thoughtful look. You chose not to question it. For the next hour, Geto actually kept his promise mostly. He worked through the material, asked the right questions, and even managed to answer a few on his own. But every so often, when he thought you weren’t looking, you’d catch him watching you instead of his notes. You tried to ignore it. Tried. But after the fifth time, you finally sighed and set your pen down. “Okay. What?”

Geto blinked, caught red handed. “What?”

“You keep looking at me,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “And not in the ‘I’m paying attention’ kind of way.”

A slow, amused smile crept onto his face. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

You rolled your eyes. “. Sure. And maybe I’ll start flunking on purpose just to see if you actually take notes for once.”

He chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Alright, alright. No need for extreme measures.” He rested his cheek against his palm, watching you with something unreadable in his expression. “It’s just… nice. Studying like this. Just us.”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. “…Yeah,” you admitted, twirling your pen between your fingers. “It is.”

Geto smirked. “See? You do like hanging out with me.”

You scoffed, pushing his book toward him. “I never said that i dont. Now, focus.”

He laughed but finally turned back to his notes. “Yes, yes. Diligent as always.”

But then, as you flipped to the next page of your textbook, Geto suddenly spoke again. “Hey.”

You looked up. “Yeah?”

He hesitated for half a second, like he was debating something, before offering you a small, genuine smile. “Thanks. For always making sure I don’t fall behind.”

Your grip on your pen tightened slightly, not expecting the warmth that spread through your chest at the simple words. You cleared your throat. “Yeah, well. Someone’s gotta keep you in check.”

Geto chuckled, but there was something softer in his eyes now. “Guess I’m lucky it’s you, then.”

Your breath hitched slightly, but you quickly covered it with a scoff. “Alright, now you’re just trying to distract me again.”

He held his hands up in mock innocence. “Not at all. That was just a bonus.”

You shook your head, trying (and failing) to fight the small smile threatening to break through. “Just focus, Geto.”

And, surprisingly, he actually did. The library had mostly emptied by now, leaving only the faint hum of the lights and the occasional rustle of paper breaking the silence. You stretched your arms over your head, letting out a small groan as you leaned back in your chair.

“We’ve been at this for hours,” you muttered, rubbing your eyes.

Geto smirked, resting his chin in his hand. “Tired already?”

“You say that like you aren’t exhausted, too.”

He hummed noncommittally, flipping his pen between his fingers. “Maybe. But I don’t mind it. This is still better than being out there.”

You glanced at him. “Out where?”

His smirk faded into something quieter, more thoughtful. “With them,” he said, gesturing vaguely. “Normal people. Civilians.”

You frowned slightly, sitting up a little straighter. “What do you mean?”

Geto leaned back in his chair, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “It’s just… I don’t know. Every time we go out on missions, I see it. The way people look at us. Like we’re freaks. Like they can’t decide if they’re grateful or terrified.” His fingers tightened slightly around his pen. “Even when we save them, they still flinch when we get too close.”

You stayed quiet, watching the tension in his shoulders.

“They don’t get it,” he continued, voice softer now. “What it means to live like this. To always have to fight. To put our lives on the line for people who don’t even want to understand us.” His lips pressed into a thin line. “Sometimes I wonder if they even deserve us.”

His words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken for a moment. “…I get it,” you finally murmured.

Geto glanced at you, eyes flickering with curiosity. “You do?”

You nodded, running a finger along the edge of your notebook. “I’ve felt it, too. The distance. The way they look at us. Sometimes it’s admiration, but most of the time it’s fear.” You exhaled slowly. “And yeah, it’s frustrating. Knowing we go through so much for people who will never truly see us.”

He watched you carefully, a hint of surprise flashing across his face like he hadn’t expected you to understand, not really. “…But,” you added, meeting his gaze, “I don’t think that means we should stop protecting them.”

His brows lifted slightly, waiting for you to continue.

“They may never understand us,” you admitted, “but that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve to live their lives in peace. I don’t think it has to be us versus them, it’s just… the way the world is.”

Geto studied you for a long moment, something unreadable in his expression. Then, slowly, he sighed, shaking his head with a small smile. “You really are too good for this world,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You snorted, nudging his foot under the table. “And you sound like you’re going to start some rebellion.”

He chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Nah. Not today.”

You rolled your eyes. “if you do, make me your right hand man so I keep you in check. Dont want you to become an evil cult leader.”

And though the conversation moved on, the words lingered between you. Somewhere, deep down, you both knew this wasn’t the last time you’d talk about this.

—

The gym smelled like polished wood and sweat, the faint echo of sneakers squeaking against the floor bouncing off the high ceilings. Gojo and Geto were caught up in an intense one on one basketball match, both far too competitive for a game that wasn’t supposed to mean anything. You, on the other hand, were seated comfortably on the bleachers next to Shoko, sipping on a sports drink and watching them with mild amusement.

“You know,” you said, stretching your legs out in front of you as you lazily sipped your drink, “you’re actually the coolest person I know.”

Shoko, who had been half watching the game and half scrolling through her phone, let out a soft snort. “That so?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, turning to her with a grin. “You’re smart, you’re strong, you don’t take shit from anyone plus, you’ve got this whole ‘mysterious but effortlessly hot’ thing going on. It’s really unfair, honestly.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, finally glancing up at you. “You flirting with me?”

You gasped, hand over your heart. “Would it work?”

She laughed, a real, genuine one, shaking her head. “Careful. You keep this up, and I might start thinking you actually like women.”

You shrugged. “What can I say? I have good taste.”

Shoko smirked, tilting her head slightly. “Y’know, at this rate, I might just win the bet.”

You blinked, confused. “…What bet?”

Shoko’s smirk widened. “Oh, nothing.”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, not nothing. What bet?”

Before she could answer, Gojo suddenly shouted from across the gym, “DID YOU SEE THAT?! I JUST BROKE GETO’S ANKLES!”

“You tripped me, you bastard!” Geto yelled back.

Shoko took a slow sip of her drink, looking entirely unbothered. “Guess you’ll just have to find out.” You stared at her, completely lost, while she just laughed to herself, enjoying your confusion.

“I don’t even know why they take this so seriously,” you muttered, shaking your head. “It’s just a pickup game.”

Shoko snorted, stretching her legs out in front of her. “It’s them. They can make breathing a competition.”

You both watched as Geto smoothly dribbled past Gojo, dodging his outstretched arms with an easy grace before sinking a three pointer without even looking fazed. Gojo groaned loudly. “UGH, come on!”

Geto smirked, spinning the ball in his hands. “What’s wrong, Satoru? Thought you were the strongest?”

Gojo huffed, jogging to retrieve the ball. “Oh, please. I’m just getting started.”

Shoko turned to you, deadpan. “This game is never going to end.”

You sighed. “Nope.”

She took a sip from her water bottle before giving you a side glance. “So, which one are you rooting for?”

You blinked. “Huh?”

She smirked. “Oh, don’t play dumb. I know they’re both trying to show off for you.”

Your face warmed. “They are not.”

Shoko gave you a look. “Mmm, sure. Gojo has been throwing over the top passes this entire time, and Geto? He never plays basketball this seriously. Tell me I’m wrong.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but at that exact moment, Gojo attempted some ridiculous, unnecessary trick shot spinning mid air before launching the ball at the hoop. He completely missed. Shoko burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “Oh my god, did you see that?” You stifled a laugh as Gojo landed, immediately turning to look in your direction as if to check whether you saw his attempt. You quickly averted your gaze.

Shoko leaned in, whispering, “Yeah, totally not trying to impress you.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Shoko, please.”

She grinned. “I’m just saying. You’ve got two of the strongest sorcerers wrapped around your finger, and you’re over here acting like it’s nothing.” Before you could respond, Geto casually walked over, spinning the ball on his fingertips. “Shoko, you wanna play next? Might give me more of a challenge.”

Gojo scowled. “Hey!”

Shoko waved him off. “Nah, I’m good. I like watching you two embarrass yourselves.”

You smirked. “It is pretty entertaining.”

Geto arched a brow at you. “Oh? Would it be more entertaining if you played?”

You rolled your eyes. “Absolutely not. I refuse to get caught up in whatever this is.”

Gojo, now recovered from his earlier failure, grinned. “Aw, c’mon, I’ll go easy on you~.”

You deadpanned. “gojo youll still be mean to me” Geto chuckled, spinning the ball once more before tossing it to Gojo. “Alright, alright. We’ll finish this first.”

Gojo smirked. “Good. Because I refuse to lose in front of my favorite person.”

You blinked. “Who?”

Gojo winked. “Guess.”

Shoko gagged. “I’m leaving.”

You laughed, shaking your head as the game resumed, Gojo and Geto both seemingly more fired up than before. Shoko nudged you with her elbow. “So, really, who are you rooting for?” You sighed, watching as Geto smoothly stole the ball from Gojo.

“…I plead the fifth.”

“hoe we’re not in america”

—

Gojo wasn’t nervous. He wasn’t. He was just… mildly aware that this was not going as smoothly as he’d hoped. That was fine. He was Gojo Satoru. He could recover. He could be charming. The problem was, you were making it really difficult. You were just walking next to him after the little game, completely oblivious to the fact that he was actively trying to flirt with you. And sure, maybe that was on him for being bad at it today, but also how were you not picking up on any of this? He had practically draped himself over your chair at lunch the other day. He had called you cool super amazing (which, okay, maybe wasn’t the best line, but he’d panicked). He had literally just suggested hanging out in a way that was clearly date coded. And still, you weren’t getting it.

“Are you okay?” you asked suddenly, shooting him a look.

Gojo immediately straightened up. “Me? Oh, I’m fantastic.” No, he wasn’t. He was fighting for his life.

You narrowed your eyes. “You sure? You look like you’re buffering.”

Gojo felt his eye twitch. Great. Incredible. I am exuding peak attractiveness right now. “Rude.” He tried to sound playful, but even he could hear the strain in his voice. “I was actually gonna ask if you wanted to hang out later.”

You blinked at him. “We always do”

Gojo resisted the urge to grab you by the shoulders. “Yeah, but like, something different. Maybe, I dunno, date adjacent?”

You actually tilted your head at that, confused. “Date adjacent?”

Oh my god, I’m going to die.Gojo groaned. This was so not how he pictured this going. He had imagined you blushing, maybe teasing him back, at least acknowledging what he was doing. Instead, you were just standing there, looking at him like he had two heads.

“…Are you flirting with me?” you asked suddenly.

Gojo froze. His brain short circuited. Oh. Oh no. This is it. This is my moment. Say something cool. Say something.

“…No?” he blurted.

The second the word left his mouth, he wanted to throw himself into traffic. You, meanwhile, burst out laughing. And just like that, he lost to the plot again Gojo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my god.”

“I knew something was up with you!” you cackled, nudging him with your elbow. “You’ve been acting so weird.”

Gojo flailed slightly. “I was not acting weird—”

“You totally were.”

Gojo huffed. “Okay, fine. Maybe I was being a little weird—”

“Painfully weird.”

“Rude,” he muttered. He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. This was not how he wanted this to go, but at this point, it was so obvious he was trying, so he might as well just go for it.

“Look, all I’m saying is,” he started, glancing at you, “if I was flirting, which I’m not saying I was” You raised an eyebrow. He ignored you. “hypothetically, if I was flirting, would that be, like… a bad thing?”

You tilted your head, considering. Gojo felt his heart actually skip a beat. He hadn’t meant to phrase it like that, hadn’t meant to actually sound like he cared about the answer (But he did. Of course, he did.) You smirked. “I dunno,” you said, starting to walk again. “Guess you’ll have to try harder if you want an answer.” Gojo blinked. Then he processed what you had just said.

Oh. Oh, you little—

A slow grin spread across his face as he easily fell into step beside you. “So there’s a chance?” he asked, voice light.

You just shrugged. “Guess you’ll have to find out.” Gojo chuckled, shaking his head.

—-

You hesitated, debating whether to keep walking or turn back. Geto’s voice was always smooth, steady like a calm river. But there was something else in it now, something amused yet careful, that made you pause. Curiosity got the better of you, and you leaned subtly against the doorway, just out of sight.

“…and then she just left the cafeteria,” Gojo’s voice came through, animated and exasperated. “Didn’t even answer me!”

Geto chuckled, warm and low. “Maybe she didn’t want to.”

Gojo huffed. “No, no, she was blushing, Suguru. I saw it.” You exhaled slowly. Blushing? Was it really that obvious?

“Maybe you pushed too far,” Geto mused. “You do that a lot.”

“I wasn’t pushing!” Gojo shot back, then hesitated. “Okay, maybe I was, but I had to! They never answer me seriously.”

“Ever wonder why?” Geto asked smoothly.

There was a pause. You could hear Gojo thinking, and for some reason, that made your chest feel tight. “…No?” Gojo finally admitted, and Geto sighed, almost fondly.

“Satoru,” Geto said patiently, “not everything is a game. You joke about everything. Everything. Why would she think this is any different?”

“Because I mean it!” Gojo argued, his voice rising in frustration. “I’m always flirting with her, always giving her chances to say something back”

“And maybe she doesn’t know if you’re being serious,” Geto interrupted, firm but calm. “Maybe they think it’s just a game to you, and she doesnt want to be played.”

Gojo scoffed. “That’s stupid. Why would I waste my time playing games with her?”

“Because that’s what you do,” Geto said simply. “It’s how you are. You make everything lighthearted, everything funny. But it also means that sometimes, people don’t know when you actually mean something.”

Gojo was quiet for a moment before muttering, “I… I don’t know how to not do that.”

Something in your chest twisted. Gojo, struggling with sincerity? it wasn't something that isn't real. It's painfully obvious to anyone who meets him Though if you're assuming right that this is about you, it feels weird. “Well,” Geto said, voice softer now, “maybe it’s time you figured it out.”

Gojo let out a dramatic groan. “Oh, sure, easy. Just suddenly stop being me. That’ll work.”

Geto huffed a laugh. “No one’s asking you to stop being you, Satoru. Just… maybe start showing them that they deserve more than a joke.”

A pause. “…More?” Gojo repeated, like the word didn’t quite make sense. “Yeah,” Geto said, and there was something final about the way he said it. “More. She deserve more, Satoru.” Your breath stilled in your throat. Gojo was silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter. “You really think that’s what she wants?”

Geto exhaled, something thoughtful in his tone. “I think that if you really want to mean it, you should start acting like it.” Then, after a brief pause, he added, “And I think you’re not the only one who’s going to be trying harder.” The weight behind his words made your stomach flip. Gojo let out a low hum, considering. “Huh. That sounds like you mean something too, Suguru.”

There was no teasing in Geto’s response, only certainty. “I do.” Your mind raced. You shouldn’t have been listening, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it not when it felt like you had just witnessed something you weren’t supposed to.

Before you could process it all, a presence settled at your side. You turned sharply, heart hammering, only to find Geto standing there, watching you. His gaze was steady, knowing. A slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Eavesdropping, huh?” The smooth timbre of Geto’s voice sent a shiver down your spine before you could even turn to face him. When you did, he was already watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk, the kind that made it clear he had caught you red handed.

Your heart lurched. “I absolutely wasnt, me walking down the hall and loud voices means inevitably someone wi—”

Geto chuckled, warm and low, like he had all the time in the world. “Relax. I won’t tell.” Your shoulders slumped slightly, though your mind was still spinning. “I didn’t mean to listen”

“Wanted to hear what everyone really thought?” Geto supplied smoothly, his voice quieter now. Your mouth opened, but the words tangled on your tongue. He wasn’t wrong. After a moment of struggle feeling strangely exposed under his gaze.

Geto hummed, his eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Satoru can be… a lot,” he said, lips quirking into a small, knowing smile. “But he means well.”

You exhaled slowly, still processing everything. “Yeah, I know.” His gaze lingered, a beat too long. That easy amusement was still there, but there was something else beneath it, something thoughtful, something intent.

“He’s not the only one who cares about what you think, you know.”

Your heart skipped. The air between you shifted, suddenly heavier, like the conversation had turned into something delicate. Something that had to be handled carefully.

“What do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure you were ready for the answer. Geto tilted his head slightly, watching you with that same unreadable expression. “Just that… it’s not always easy, liking someone like you.”

The way he said it sent a rush of heat to your face. You swallowed. “Geto…” His smirk softened into something smaller, “What?”

You didn’t know how to respond. Your mind was still tangled in the weight of his words, the quiet but unmistakable way he had just said it like it was already fact. Geto’s eyes traced over your face like he was memorizing something, his amusement dimming into something quieter. “You’re always looking at him,” he murmured. “But do you ever think about who’s looking at you?”

Your breath caught. “You deserve more than teasing, you know.” His voice was almost casual, but the weight behind it was anything but. “More than jokes and empty flirting.” You stared at him, feeling like you had suddenly stepped into unknown territory. He let out a soft chuckle, almost as if he could hear your thoughts. “I won’t push,” he said easily. “I know you don’t like that.” His fingers brushed against your shoulder a fleeting touch, too light to be an accident. “But just… think about it.”

You couldn’t find your voice. Geto held your gaze for a moment longer before stepping back, hands slipping into his pockets. “Give yourself a chance,” he murmured again but lower, tilting his head slightly. “But don’t forget there are other people who care about you, too.” And then he was gone, walking away without waiting for an answer, leaving you standing there mind reeling, heart racing.

It was complicated. Messy. But as you finally stepped away from the doorway, you found yourself thinking not just about Gojo’s teasing or the way he had fumbled for sincerity, but about Geto’s steady warmth, his quiet certainty. And for the first time, you weren’t just thinking about them. You were wondering what it was you wanted.

——

It had been years since you first walked through the gates of Jujutsu High, and looking back now, it almost felt like another lifetime. The first time you met Geto was a memory etched in the back of your mind, one you revisited often, though it was a little more distant now.

You’d been a first year, fresh and wide eyed, filled with excitement and nerves as you navigated the complex world of Jujutsu sorcery. You’d barely even known what to expect from your fellow students, let alone the upperclassmen. But when you first saw Geto, it was impossible not to be struck by him. Tall, calm, and exuding an effortless coolness, he had a kind of quiet magnetism that seemed to draw people in.

You remembered the first day you saw him, sitting alone in the classroom during the the morning. His dark hair fell just the right way, framing his face, and his eyes those intense eyes never seemed to miss anything. The world seemed to gravitate toward him without a second thought. there was something about the way he carried himself that made it feel like he belonged in the spotlight. You couldn’t help but be a little starstruck. It wasn’t just his looks, though. His demeanor, the way he spoke with such effortless confidence, made you feel like you were standing in the presence of someone who had everything figured out. Even back then, as a shy first year, you found yourself drawn to him. You’d always been a little shy when it came to those kinds of feelings, so you never dared to express how you felt.

You had a crush on him, without a doubt. It was something you didn’t admit easily not to anyone, least of all to yourself. You were just starting to adjust to the world outside of you and gojo, let alone figure out how you fit in it, and trying to sort out your feelings for someone like Geto only made things more complicated. But as time went on, as you became more familiar with him, the crush slowly turned into something else. You began to see the layers beneath the surface. Geto wasn’t just the cool guy who could command attention with a single glance. he was thoughtful, intelligent, and surprisingly perceptive in ways that weren’t immediately obvious. He didn’t just notice people; he understood them, in a way that made you feel like you were more than just another face in the crowd.

You remembered the first time you really spoke to him like REALLY spoke to him. , after a mission where you both ended up working together. You’d been struggling with something either your technique or just how to focus under pressure and Geto had come up to you, casual as always, and offered a few words of advice. It wasn’t anything grand or life changing, just a small adjustment, but the way he said it, the way he made you feel like he truly believed in your potential, had stuck with you.

“Don’t overthink it,” he had said, offering a slight smile. “It’s simple. Just focus on the moment.”

You were surprised by how much that simple comment helped you how much it made you feel seen. From then on, every interaction with him felt different. Instead of a distant rando, Geto became someone you could rely on someone you could talk to about anything, whether it was missions, school, or just life in general. His presence, while still commanding, became comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

Now, when you looked at him, it wasn’t with the same starry eyed admiration of that first day. He was one of your closer friends, someone you’d come to trust deeply. The crush, though it had remained a part of you in the back of your mind, had shifted into something else, something more meaningful. You appreciate him not for the image of him you had built in your head, but for the person he truly was. The calm, steady support he offered, the way he never judged, and how he always seemed to know when to challenge you and when to step back.

You found yourself often smiling a little as you watched him, lost in thought. He was standing off to the side, talking with some of the others, his usual easygoing demeanor present even now. He had become someone you could confide in, someone who genuinely cared about the people around him. The ease of your friendship, of the way he accepted you, made you realize just how far you had come from those first days of high school.

The crush was a distant memory now, but you couldn’t help but feel a warm sense of gratitude when you thought back to that first meeting. What you had with Geto now was something far more valuable, something real. He was your friend, and in many ways, you had grown together. And as you watched him, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, he had always known exactly what you needed before you even realized it yourself.

—

The halls of Jujutsu High were quieter at this hour, bathed in the deep oranges and purples of the setting sun. Most of the students had turned in for the night, and even the teachers had begun to retreat to their rooms. But Gojo sat on the training field, staring up at the sky like it might hold the answers to the thoughts swarming in his head.

Shoko plopped down next to him, stretching her legs out with a quiet sigh. “You look like you’re thinking too hard,” she remarked, tilting her head to look at him.

Gojo huffed a laugh but didn’t turn to face her. “I am the strongest, y’know. That means my brain’s gotta be strong, too.”

Shoko snorted. “That’s not how that works.” A comfortable silence settled between them. Gojo let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. The usual brightness in his voice dimmed slightly when he finally spoke again.

“Shoko…” he started, hesitating in a way that was unlike him. “What does it mean when someone makes your brain feel all… messy?”

Shoko raised a brow. “Are you asking me about feelings, Satoru?”

He groaned, tipping his head back. “Ugh, don’t make it weird.”

“You’re the one making it weird,” she shot back, amused. “What’s going on?”

Gojo was silent for a beat before his fingers dug into his hair. “I really like her, Shoko.” His voice was quieter now, like saying it too loudly might make it real in a way he wasn’t ready for. Shoko blinked, before an easy smirk tugged at her lips. “Yeah, no shit.”

He groaned again. “Come on, be helpful.”

She chuckled but softened a little. “Okay, okay. What about them is making your brain all ‘messy’?”

Gojo exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly. “It’s just… I flirt with them all the time, right? But I don’t think they ever really believe me. Like it’s just some game or whatever.”

Shoko hummed thoughtfully. “You do treat everything like a joke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Gojo muttered, rubbing his temple. “And then there’s Suguru.”

Shoko frowned slightly. “What about him?”

Gojo hesitated before sighing. “He likes her too.”

Shoko’s expression didn’t change, but something in her eyes sharpened. Shes heard both sides of her best friends complain about their love for you “And?”

Gojo hesitated again, and that alone was enough to tell her how much this was really messing with him. “It’s Suguru,” he said simply, as if that explained everything.

And in a way, it did. Suguru Geto was his oldest friend, the one who had always been by his side, the one who understood him in ways no one else did. But now, suddenly, there was this… rift. Not spoken, not fought over just there, quietly growing between them.

Shoko let the words settle between them before speaking. “So, what? Are you gonna back off?”

Gojo snapped his gaze to her, eyes narrowed behind his glasses. “Of course not.”

Shoko gave a small, knowing smile. “Didn’t think so.”

Gojo exhaled sharply. “But it’s weird, okay? It’s weird because… because he’s Suguru, and he’s never really wanted the same things as me before.” He ruffled his hair, frustration evident. “It’s like I don’t know how to feel about it. He’s my best friend, Shoko.”

“And so is [Y/N],” Shoko pointed out.

Gojo faltered. She sighed, nudging him lightly. “Look, you like her, right? I think it naive to think suguru has never wanted the same as you”

“Yeah,” Gojo muttered, quieter this time.

“And Suguru likes her too,” she continued.

Gojo clenched his jaw but nodded. Shoko studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Then stop thinking so much.”

Gojo stared at her. “That’s your advice?”

She gave a lazy grin. “Yup.”

He scoffed. “Gee, thanks, that helps so much.”

Shoko chuckled, then let her expression turn more serious. “Listen, Satoru. I get it. You don’t like dealing with feelings yours or anyone else’s. But this isn’t about Suguru. And it’s not about some stupid competition.” She held his gaze. “It’s about you and how you feel about them.”

Gojo pressed his lips together. “Yeah,” he murmured, like he was finally letting himself admit it. “I really, really like her.”

Shoko patted his back, standing up with a stretch. “Then do something about it.”

Gojo tilted his head back to look up at her, lips tugged in a lopsided smirk. “You’re really bad at comforting people”

She rolled her eyes. “And you’re a pain in my ass. Just because i chose to be a doctor doesn’t mean psycologist.”

Gojo chuckled, but as she walked away, he let his head drop back, staring up at the sky again.

no one:

Y/n this chapter:

taglist : @pandabiene5115 @inthedarkshadows000

⋆˚✿˖° ❝it feels crowded❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

Gojo Satoru x Reader

Geto Suguru x Reader

────୨ৎ────

4. How it feels to be a girl and do no wrong

masterlist

update! i’m back from vacation but i offer you this with what little time I have.

…

Your dorm was warm and cozy, lit softly by the glow of a few fairy lights strung along the walls. The scent of popcorn and sugary snacks filled the air, and laughter spilled freely between you, Shoko, and Utahime as the three of you lounged around the room.

It had been a few days since your night out at the arcade and ramen shop, but the memory still lingered in your mind specifically, the way Geto had acted, the way Gojo had been off. And based on the way Shoko kept smirking at you, you had a strong suspicion she knew exactly what you’d been overthinking.

“Alright, but hear me out,” Utahime said, sitting cross legged on the floor as she carefully painted your nails. “What if, just once, in a horror movie, the characters actually had some common sense?”

You snorted, blowing on the nails she had already finished. “Then the movie would be ten minutes long.”

“Exactly,” Shoko chimed in, sprawled lazily across your bed, a cigarette tucked between her fingers. “The second a single door creaks on its own? I’m out. No investigation. No ‘who’s there?’ Just immediate evacuation.”

Utahime grinned. “See, that’s why we’d all survive.”

You hummed. “Not if one of us trips.”

Shoko flicked her lighter absently. “You’d trip.”

You gasped, “I’m super adept.”

Utahime giggled. “You did trip at the arcade that one day.”

“That was once!” you protested, then immediately regretted it when Shoko and Utahime exchanged a look.

“Oh yeah,” Shoko drawled, her smirk widening. “Speaking of the arcade…”

Utahime sighed, putting the nail polish down and leaning back on her hands. “We’ve been nice and patient, but now you have to tell us.” You blinked. “Tell you what?”

Utahime gave you a deadpan look. “Don’t play dumb.” Shoko grinned, propping herself up on her elbows. “How’s it feel to have both Gojo and Geto all over you?”

Your face immediately heated up. “They were not—” “Please,” Shoko cut you off. “Geto was practically glued to your side, and Gojo looked like he wanted to launch him into orbit.”

Utahime hummed. “He was acting weird, wasn’t he?” You frowned, thinking back to Gojo’s quiet mood after dinner, the way he had trailed a step behind when you and Geto had walked back together.

“He’s been weird ever since,” Shoko mused, tapping ash into an empty cup. “More annoying than usual.”

“He’s probably just being dramatic,” you muttered, trying to ignore the way something in your stomach twisted.

Utahime gave you a patient look. “And Geto?”

You hesitated. Geto had been different too. More intentional with his words, with his actions. The memory of him draping his jacket over your shoulders flashed in your mind, unbidden.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “It’s just… Geto’s always smooth. But lately, it’s like he’s actually trying.” Utahime nodded thoughtfully, while Shoko smirked. “And you like it.” “I didn’t say that!”

Utahime raised an eyebrow. “But you don’t hate it.” You groaned, flopping backward onto the bed, covering your face with a pillow. “Why are we even talking about this?”

Shoko chuckled, tossing a piece of popcorn at you. “Because it’s fun watching you squirm.” You lifted the pillow just enough to glare at her. “I hate you.” She grinned. “No, you don’t.”

Utahime leaned back, stretching her arms over her head. “Well, either way, something’s happening.”

You let out a long sigh. “Nothing is happening.” “Yet,” Shoko corrected, looking far too pleased with herself.

You groaned again, dragging the pillow back over your face. This sleepover was supposed to be relaxing. Instead, you were going to lose your mind. Utahime stretched, letting out a content sigh as she leaned back against the bed. “Well, whatever’s going on, you’re gonna have to deal with it eventually.”

You groaned, still partially buried under your pillow. “Or I could just ignore it forever.”

Shoko snorted. “Yeah, because that always works.” Utahime shook her head, about to say something else when she suddenly froze. Her eyes narrowed, her head tilting slightly as she peered toward the chair in the corner of your room.

“Wait a second.”

You sat up a little, frowning. “What?”

Utahime’s gaze flicked back to you, her expression sharpening with curiosity. “That jacket.” Your stomach immediately dropped. You followed her line of sight straight to the familiar black jacket draped over the back of your chair. Geto’s jacket. The same one he had casually thrown over your shoulders a few nights ago. The one you had fully intended to return but had somehow… forgotten about.

Utahime slowly turned back to you, her smirk growing with every passing second. “Is that Geto’s?” Shoko, who had previously been lounging, suddenly perked up. She squinted at the jacket, then at your increasingly guilty expression. Then, in perfect sync with Utahime, she let out a dramatic gasp.

“Oh my god.”

“No,” you said immediately, face heating up. “It’s not—”

“It so is,” Utahime cut in, sitting up straighter. “Why is it still here?”

“I—” You floundered for an explanation, your brain working overtime. “I just… forgot to give it back.”

Shoko smirked while laughing. “You forgot?”

“Yes!”

Utahime grinned, standing up to grab the jacket off the chair. She turned it over in her hands, inspecting it like it held the secrets of the universe. “I bet it even smells like him.”

“Utahime!” you yelped, reaching to snatch it from her. She easily dodged, waving it out of reach. “Oh, this is rich.”

Shoko propped her chin in her hand, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “So. You’ve just been keeping it? Sleeping next to it? Maybe wearing it when you miss him?” You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “I hate both of you.”

“Please,” Utahime said, shaking the jacket for emphasis. “This is gold.”

Shoko hummed thoughtfully. “You should return it, y’know. Maybe personally.”

You squinted at her. “You just want to watch me suffer.”

“Absolutely,” she confirmed, smirking.

Utahime threw the jacket over your head with a dramatic flourish. “Well, either way, you should probably return it before people start asking questions.” You peeked out from under the fabric, pouting. “You two are the worst.” Shoko shrugged. “And yet, with all this going on I might have to steal you for myself.”

Utahime grinned, flopping back onto the bed. “Now, be honest how many times have you worn it?”

You launched a pillow at her face. Unfortunately, that only made them laugh harder.

—

“This is nice,” Utahime murmured, admiring her work. “Quiet. Relaxing. No responsibilities.”

Shoko let out a content sigh, stretching her legs over the arm of the couch. “No early missions, no annoying teachers, no one yelling. Just peace.”

You hummed in agreement, flipping lazily through a magazine, barely paying attention to the pages. “We should do this more often.”

Utahime nodded. “Definitely. We always talk about it, but we never actually set time aside.”

“That’s because every time we plan, something interrupts it.” Shoko cracked one eye open, smirking. “Remember the last time? We barely made it through a movie before—”

“No,” you cut in quickly. “We are not bringing up last time.”

“That’s fair.” Shoko yawned, stretching her arms over her head before slumping back down. “So, what’s the plan? Are we just hanging out, or are we doing something fun?”

You glanced around at the mess of snacks and nail polish. “I thought this was the fun part.”

Shoko waved a dismissive hand. “No, no. I mean, like, real fun. Something chaotic. Utahime, you’re too responsible when’s the last time you did something reckless?”

Utahime narrowed her eyes. “You’re acting like I’m some kind of” She paused, then sighed. “You know what? It’s been a while.” Shoko grinned. “See? I knew it. Let’s do something.”

Utahime raised a brow. “Like what?”

Shoko turned to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You got any ideas?” You glanced between them, already sensing that something was about to spiral out of control. “…I might have one.”

“i don’t like that look you’re giving” utahime lets out quietly

Shoko smirked, sitting up properly now, clearly entertained. “No, no, let’s hear them out. If they’ve got that look, it means this is gonna be good.” You shrugged, trying to seem casual. “Well, we could sneak into Gojo’s room and mess with his stuff.”

Utahime sighed, already rubbing her temples. “Why is your first instinct always to start problems?”

“Because it’s fun?” Shoko answered for you, already getting excited. “What are you thinking? Classic prank? Rearranging his furniture? Stealing something important?”

“Oh, stealing is good,” you mused. “Imagine if we took his sunglasses. He’d lose his mind.”

“He would,” Shoko agreed. “What about his hair gel? You know he goes through, like, a bottle a week.”

Utahime groaned. “I’m not getting involved in this.”

“Oh, come on,” you nudged her. “It’s harmless. He deserves it after all the times he’s annoyed you.”

Utahime hesitated, glancing away. “…He has been worse than usual lately.”

Shoko grinned, sensing the shift. “See? Exactly. Think of it as justice.”

Utahime huffed, crossing her arms. “Fine. But if we get caught, I’m blaming both of you.”

Shoko threw an arm around her shoulders. “That’s the spirit!”

The plan was simple: sneak in, steal something mildly important, and leave before Gojo even noticed. But in true you, Shoko, and Utahime fashion things did not go as planned

The plan was simple: sneak into Gojo’s room, take something mildly important, and leave before he even noticed. Given how messy he usually was, you figured it’d be easy just rummage through the and swipe something small. But the second you pushed open the door, all three of you froze.

“…What the hell?” Utahime muttered.

Shoko blinked. “Did we walk into the wrong room?”

Gojo’s dorm was… immaculate. No scattered clothes. No empty snack wrappers. His bed was made, his desk was organized, and even his infinity scarves were neatly folded on a shelf. The air smelled faintly of fabric softener, like he had just done laundry. You turned to your friends, wide eyed. “Did he hire someone to clean?”

Utahime shook her head, suspicious. “This has to be a trap.”

Shoko whistled, walking inside. “Or he finally got sick of living like a raccoon.” Stepping further in, you carefully looked around. It was unsettling this was not the Gojo you knew. No mess , no clutter, no sense of a human disaster living here.

“…I feel like we should leave something messy just to restore balance,” you murmured.

Utahime crossed her arms. “Focus. We need to find something valuable before he comes back.”

Shoko flopped onto his bed dramatically. “What even counts as valuable to Gojo?” As if on cue, Utahime spotted something small and very out of place on his desk a tiny, pink, bunny shaped scrunchie.

She picked it up, turning it over in her hands. “What is this?”

Shoko sat up. “Since when does Gojo own a scrunchie?”

“I don’t know, but it does not fit his whole thing,” Utahime said, looking scandalized. You smirked. “Which means it’s sentimental. Perfect.”

Shoko grinned. “Stealing it is the only logical course of action.”

Before you could celebrate your victory, disaster struck. Footsteps. Approaching. From right outside the door.

“Shit” you hissed.

“Hide!” Utahime whisper yelled.

All three of you scrambled like cockroaches when a light turns on. Shoko dived under the bed, Utahime pressed herself inside the closet, and you flattened against the wall near the door. The knob turned. Gojo stepped in, stretching. He yawned, rubbing his eyes as he scanned the room.

“…Weird,” he muttered. He took a slow step inside, glancing around. Your breath caught. His gaze narrowed slightly. “mmm something is off?” You stayed completely still. Shoko, from under the bed, barely stifled a laugh. Gojo exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.” He turned, reaching for his blindfold on the desk, then froze.

His fingers hovered over the empty spot where the pink scrunchie had been. Slowly, his head turned. “…Where is it?” Your stomach dropped. Gojo knew.

His entire posture shifted casual suspicion replaced by immediate certainty. His eyes flickered as he scanned the room, brows furrowing. Utahime was dead silent in the closet. Shoko wasn’t even breathing under the bed. Gojo’s gaze lingered on the doorway. Then, he smirked.

“I knew I felt something off.” Crap. Time to run. The second without thinking, you bolted. Gojo moved fast too fast but you had a head start, and you weren’t about to go down without a fight. You dodged past him, sprinting out the door and down the hallway, gripping the stolen scrunchie in your fist like it was some kind of prized treasure.

“Hey!” Gojo’s voice rang out, way too delighted for someone who had just been robbed. “Get back here, thief!”

You didn’t look back. Behind you, you could hear Utahime and Shoko dying of laughter, but they had chosen self preservation over loyalty, leaving you to fend for yourself. You turned a sharp corner, barely avoiding crashing into a stack of textbooks outside Yaga’s office, and kept running, your breath coming in short gasps.

But Gojo wasn’t even trying. That was the worst part he wasn’t sprinting after you, wasn’t calling on his infinity to stop you in your tracks. He was just strolling down the hall like he had all the time in the world, like he was playing some slow, inevitable game of cat and mouse.

“You know I can catch you whenever I want, right?” You didn’t dignify that with an answer. Your plan? Unclear. Your only goal? Survive. But the second you made it to the stairwell, you felt it, A shift in the air. An invisible force coiling around you like a net.

Oh, shit.

Before you could take another step, your body stopped moving. You weren’t frozen, exactly just stuck, like something was gently pressing you in place. Gojo’s infinity. A heartbeat later, he was behind you, leaning down to speak right next to your ear.

“You really thought you could get away?”

His voice was smug. Too smug. You turned your head slightly, glaring. “That’s unfair.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” he shot back easily. Then, after a pause, “Wait, which one is this?”

You groaned. “Just take your stupid scrunchie back.” But instead of snatching it away, he just rested his chin on your shoulder, peering at the pink fabric in your hand. “You really wanted this that badly?”

You felt your face heat. “It was part of a game!”

“Oh? And what exactly was the game?”

You refused to answer. Gojo chuckled, finally releasing his technique so you could move again. But before you could shove the scrunchie back at him, he reached up, plucking it from your fingers with a satisfied hum.

Then, to your shock, he casually stretched it over his wrist.

You stared. “You’re actually wearing it?”

“Why not?” He grinned, holding up his hand like he was showing off some expensive bracelet. “Looks cute, right?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Then groaned. “You are so annoying.”

He just beamed, rocking back on his heels. “Admit it you’re impressed I caught you.”

You scowled. “I let you catch me.”

Gojo barked out a laugh. “Oh, sure. Keep telling yourself that.”

You turned on your heel, storming off, because if you stayed any longer, he’d probably say something even more ridiculous

.

But just as you reached the door, you heard his voice again, softer this time.

“See you later, thief.”

And then he walked away, leaving you standing there, flustered, as the warmth in your chest refused to go away.

—-

The memory was old, so old that Gojo sometimes wondered if it was real or just something his brain made up over time. But no, he knew it had happened. He could still hear the sound of your voice, tiny and full of determination, and he could still remember how warm the summer air had felt against his skin that day.

It was before Geto, before Shoko before either of you had anyone else. Just two kids, running around the vast Satoru estate, where everything was too big and too quiet and too lonely.

Gojo had been sulking. He didn’t even remember why. Maybe one of the servants had scolded him for sneaking sweets before dinner. Maybe his father had said something about being stronger or better or more than what he already was. Or maybe he was just having one of those days where being Gojo Satoru felt way too heavy for a little kid to carry.

Whatever the reason, he had plopped down onto the wooden engawa outside his house, legs dangling over the edge, arms crossed over his chest. His sunglasses too big for his face back then had slid slightly down his nose, but he was too grumpy to push them back up. like always, you appeared.

Marching straight up to him with something clutched tightly in your tiny fist, you stopped in front of him and huffed. “Satoru.”

Gojo barely glanced at you. “What?”

“Hold out your hand.”

He squinted at you, suspicious. “Why?”

“Just do it!”

He let out the world’s most dramatic sigh, but finally, he held out his palm. Immediately, you shoved something soft and fabric-y into it. Gojo blinked, looking down. A scrunchie. Pink. With little bunny ears on it.

He stared. Then stared harder. “…What?”

You crossed your arms, standing tall well, as tall as a little kid could stand. “It’s for you.”

Gojo wrinkled his nose. “A scrunchie?”

“Yeah.” Without waiting for an invitation, you flopped down next to him, swinging your legs over the edge of the engawa. “My mom said I have too many, so I decided to give this one away.”

Gojo frowned. “Why to me?”

You gave him a look, like the answer was so obvious. “Because you always complain about your hair.”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. “…No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

Then, to Gojo’s absolute horror, you scrunched up your face and mimicked him in a high pitched, exaggerated voice:

“Ugh, my hair’s in my face! Ugh, it’s so annoying!”

Gojo gasped. “I DO NOT sound like that.” “You totally do.”

He scowled, clutching the scrunchie like it had personally offended him. “Well still! It’s pink!” You shrugged. “So?” “And it’s got bunny ears!” “So?” Gojo was flabbergasted. “It’s it’s cute!”

You blinked at him, unimpressed. “Satoru. You have white hair and wear sunglasses indoors. I don’t think a pink scrunchie is your biggest problem.”

Gojo gawked at you. “huh!”

You just grinned, all mischief and sunshine. “Besides, it’s practical.” You swung your feet again, bumping his knee. “You always get annoyed when your hair’s in your eyes, right? Just use it when no one’s looking.”

Gojo glanced down at the scrunchie again.

It was practical… and soft… and warm from your hands… and something about the fact that you gave it to him made his face feel kinda hot. He grumbled under his breath, stuffing it deep into his pocket like he was hiding evidence. “…Fine. But if anyone asks, I stole it from you.”

You laughed, bright and clear. “Sure, Satoru. Whatever makes you feel better.”

—

Gojo sat on his bed, rolling the same pink scrunchie between his fingers. The bunny ears were slightly bent, the fabric worn from time, but it was still intact.just like the memory.

He sighed, rubbing a thumb over the soft fabric. You didn’t even remember giving this to him.

Figures. He closed his fist around it, holding it close. It was his, after all.

Gojo sat cross legged in the middle of the wide, empty field behind the estate. The sun was beginning to dip, stretching his shadow out long and thin on the grass. Summer air clung to him, sticky and warm, and the cicadas’ endless chorus buzzed in his ears. He stared at the ground, fingers absently picking at the grass, his mind heavy with everything and nothing at once.

His dad’s voice still echoed in his ears, sharp, cutting, never satisfied. The words blurred together in his head, a tangled mess of expectations he didn’t ask for.

Footsteps crunched softly behind him, but he didn’t bother to look up. No one else came out here except for you.

“Hey,” you greeted, voice cautious but casual. “Why’d you run off like that?”

Gojo grunted, still plucking at the grass. “Dunno.”

You plopped down beside him without hesitation, legs folded neatly under you. There was a beat of silence as you looked at him, waiting for him to say more, but when he didn’t, you spoke up again.

“You ran off right after your dad yelled at you,” you pointed out, like it was obvious.

Gojo’s fingers stilled. He ripped a piece of grass and tossed it away. “So what?”

“So, it clearly bothered you.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

You huffed, exasperated but amused. “Liar. I know when something’s bothering you.”

Gojo finally looked at you, a half hearted glare behind those too big sunglasses. “You think you know everything.”

You grinned, unphased. “Yeah, ‘cause I do. I’m a gojo expert.”

Gojo’s lips twitched almost a smile. Almost. The two of you sat there, listening to the cicadas fill the silence. Gojo went back to tearing up the grass, and you leaned back on your hands, tilting your head to the sky.

“Y’know,” you began casually, “I don’t get why you always pretend you’re fine when you’re not.” Gojo’s jaw tightened. The sunglasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up, a barrier between you and the storm brewing in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me,” you countered softly, like it was the simplest truth in the world. “You’re my friend.”

Friend. That word made his chest feel weird too tight and too light all at once. It was easier to be Gojo Satoru, The Strongest, than to be just Gojo Satoru, a kid whose family thought “the strongest” was all he ever had to be.

“I’m not supposed to need friends,” he muttered. “I’m supposed to be the strongest.”

You looked at him, tilting your head a little. “Yeah, but being the strongest doesn’t mean you have to be alone, dummy.”

Gojo’s fingers stopped picking at the grass. The weight of his father’s expectations pressed down on his shoulders be stronger, be better, be more but your voice cut through the noise, steady and certain.

“Besides,” you added, nudging his shoulder with your own, “I think even the strongest person needs someone. Maybe even especially the strongest person.”

Gojo’s throat felt tight. He wanted to argue, to tell you that you didn’t get it, that no one did but then he looked at you, and you were just sitting there, legs swinging a little, your gaze soft but stubborn. You didn’t pity him; you were just there, like always.

Your hand reached out, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently. Gojo glanced down, staring at the way your fingers curled around his skin. It was grounding a touch that reminded him he was still here, still a person, not just some untouchable concept of strength.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you said, voice light but sincere. “Even if you keep acting like a grumpy old man.”

A laugh snorted out of him before he could stop it. “I don’t act like a grumpy old man.”

“Yes, you do,” you teased, a playful smirk curling your lips. “You sulk and mutter under your breath like you’re eighty.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you’re just annoying,” he shot back, but there was no bite in his voice.

You laughed, bright and clear, the sound blending with the cicadas. The sun had dipped a little lower now, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange. The world felt quieter, softer, and Gojo’s heart didn’t feel as heavy as before. The two of you sat there until the sun sank below the horizon and the air began to cool. When it was finally time to head back, you stood up first, offering your hand to help him up. Gojo looked at your outstretched hand, then at your face determined and patient.

He took it, your grip warm and steady.

“Come on, old man,” you teased, pulling him to his feet. “Dinner’s gonna get cold, and you know the staff’ll lecture you again.”

Gojo rolled his eyes, but his lips quirked into a smirk. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

But as the two of you walked back, your arms swinging between you,

——

The sun was setting over Jujutsu High, bleeding orange and gold across the sky. The air was warm and heavy, the end of another long day hanging lazily over the campus. Shoko leaned against the window frame of the common room, a cigarette balanced between her fingers, the smoke curling lazily upward.

Geto sat on the windowsill, his back against the frame and one leg drawn up while the other hung outside. His gaze was fixed on the training grounds below, where you and Gojo were supposed to be training though it looked more like Gojo was just finding new ways to annoy you.

“Do they ever actually take this seriously?” Shoko mused, exhaling a thin stream of smoke.

Geto huffed out a quiet laugh, but there was a heaviness to it. “If they did, they wouldn’t be themselves.”

Down below, Gojo had his infinity up, that smirk plastered on his face. Every time you tried to hit him, he’d lean back just enough for your fist to miss. His sunglasses had slid down his nose, but he didn’t bother fixing them.

“C’mon, try harder!” he teased, voice bright and taunting. “I thought you said you were getting stronger!”

“Oh, I am,” you shot back, grinning even as your frustration grew. “You just need to stop being a coward and drop your technique!”

“Ha! As if!” Gojo laughed, effortlessly sidestepping your next swing. “You’d have to make me!”

Without warning, you lunged forward and grabbed the front of his uniform. His eyes widened, a flicker of surprise breaking through his cockiness just before you yanked him down. The two of you tumbled to the ground, a heap of limbs and laughter, dust clouding around you.

Gojo’s dramatic yelp echoed through the courtyard, followed by your triumphant, breathless laughter.

Shoko snorted softly, shaking her head. “Idiots.”

Geto watched the two of you tangled up on the ground, his smile faint but strained. There was a bittersweet weight to it, a quiet sort of resignation.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes still on Gojo’s bright, careless grin. “They are.”

Shoko took another drag of her cigarette, her eyes glancing sideways at Geto. The way he watched the two of you there was something there, a thread of something unspoken and conflicted.

“They’ve always been like that,” she said, testing the waters. “Even before we got mixed in.”

Geto’s gaze lingered on the two of you, Gojo’s arm now slung over your shoulders while you tried to shove him off, your mock protests drowned out by his laughter. There was a time when that laughter had been his, something that had belonged to just the two of them. Before everything had gotten so complicated. Before he began to see the cracks in the world that Gojo seemed so effortlessly above.

“Yeah,” Geto replied softly, voice tight. “They have.”

Shoko watched him carefully, the corner of her mouth curving into a smirk that was almost sympathetic. “Getting sentimental, Suguru?”

He scoffed, the sound sharper than usual. “No. Just thinking.”

“About?” He didn’t answer right away, his eyes still fixed on Gojo’s grin, the same one that used to be mirrored by his own. Used to be.

“Nothing,” he finally muttered, turning away from the window. “It’s nothing.”

Shoko watched him retreat, her gaze lingering on his back before drifting back to you and Gojo. Gojo had finally let you up, his head thrown back as he laughed, and you were swatting at him, a grin breaking through your faux irritation.

The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long across the courtyard. Shoko took another drag of her cigarette, her eyes thoughtful. In the quiet space between laughter and cicadas, there was something heavy something that Geto couldn’t bring himself to name.

@pandabiene5115 @inthedarkshadows000

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

Gojo Satoru X reader

Geto Suguru X reader

────୨ৎ────

3. Men who listen to mitski

The way this took so much effort because i wanted a funny chronically online scene for the reader but then remembered it was 2006 and had re write like half of it

if you missed the last chapters —>masterlist

₍^. .^₎⟆ The next day, you found yourself training with Gojo, as usual. The air was thick with the sound of shuriken slicing through the air, but something was off. Gojo’s movements weren’t as fluid as usual, his energy wasn’t as contagious.

“You’re a little off today,” you commented, narrowly dodging a sudden flurry of shuriken that came your way. You grinned, trying to keep the atmosphere light, but it was clear something wasn’t right.

He flashed you a grin, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Am I? Maybe you’re just slow today,” he replied, his voice teasing, but there was a strange sharpness to it that made you furrow your brow.

You took a step back, studying him carefully. This wasn’t the usual Gojo. The playful tone that usually had you laughing was gone, replaced by something more… tense. But you didn’t want to focus on it. You were here to train, not to try and read his mood.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked, trying to keep things casual.

Gojo didn’t answer. Instead, his grin morphed into something more teasing, his eyes glinting with a strange intensity. “So, last night… you had fun with Geto, huh?” he asked, voice casual, but the words cut sharper than they should’ve.

You blinked, surprised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Gojo shrugged, his expression light, but there was a tension in the air that you couldn’t ignore. “Oh, nothing,” he said. “Just noticed the jacket. You two seemed… cozy.” His grin was still in place, but there was something more biting about it now.

Your stomach tightened. That was the second time he’d mentioned Geto today. You didn’t know what was going on, but it didn’t sit right with you. “It’s just a jacket,” you said, trying to laugh it off.

His eyes narrowed, and the playful façade slipped for just a moment, revealing a flash of something deeper something that made you uncomfortable. “Hmm. Sure. But you know, you could’ve asked for my jacket. I thought we were closer. Guess I was wrong,” he muttered, almost to himself.

You felt a knot form in your chest. What was this? Why was Gojo acting like this? You weren’t even sure what was going on between you and Geto, but it didn’t feel like you’d done anything wrong. Yet, Gojo was making you feel like you had.

The next barrage of shuriken came at you, and you barely dodged in time. One grazed your shoulder, and you winced, irritation bubbling up. You tried to shake it off and focus on the fight. “Are you gonna keep throwing these until you get it out of your system?” you shot back, trying to keep your voice steady despite the unease creeping up your spine.

Gojo tilted his head, his eyes sharp. “What, are you mad?” His tone was light, but there was an edge to it now. “I just didn’t expect you to be all… buddy-buddy with him. It’s cute though, you two matching. Really sweet.”

You gritted your teeth, frustration flooding in. “What’s your problem, Gojo?”

“My problem?” He threw another shuriken at you, sharper, faster than the others. “You’re my problem. You—” He stopped himself, clearly realizing too late he’d said something more than he’d meant to. “You know what? Never mind. Just keep dodging.”

Another barrage came at you, but you avoided them with ease, though your patience was starting to wear thin. You weren’t going to let him throw you off track, but you could feel the growing tension between you.

“Gojo,” you began again, trying to force some calm into your voice, “What’s going on with you today?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he just stood there, his usual nonchalance slowly returning, but it was forced, like he was trying too hard to keep up the front. “Nothing,” he muttered, his tone flat. “I’m just messing with you. Nothing’s going on.”

You narrowed your eyes, seeing through the cracks in his mask. There was something he wasn’t saying, and it was frustrating the hell out of you. “Look,” you said, taking a deep breath, “If you’ve got an issue with me or with Geto, just say it. I’m not gonna guess at what you’re thinking.”

Gojo flashed you that signature grin, the one that always made you feel like everything was fine, like nothing was too serious, but this time it felt like he wasn’t trying to comfort you “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m just here to make you sweat. Keep up.”

But there was no real challenge in his voice anymore. His movements were slow, almost lazy, and you could tell he wasn’t really pushing you anymore. He was holding back, but you had no idea why.

The frustration was bubbling up inside you, a sense of unease you couldn’t shake. “Don’t give me that. You’ve never acted like this before.” You stepped forward, trying to keep your tone steady, but it was hard with the emotions swirling. “So, what’s going on, Gojo? Why are you acting like this?”

For a moment, Gojo’s grin faltered, just barely, before he quickly masked it with another casual shrug. “Nothing,” he repeated. “I’m just messing with you.”

You stood there for a moment, unsure whether to push further or to drop it. The problem was, you couldn’t drop it, not when you could see something shifting beneath the surface. You had no idea if it was jealousy, frustration, or something else entirely, but something was off, and it wasn’t just with him.

You bit your lip, trying to push the sinking feeling down. Maybe today wasn’t the day for answers, but you knew Gojo had something on his mind.

Then, just as you were about to take another step, you felt the sharp sting from your shoulder, the spot where the shuriken had grazed you earlier. You winced, holding your arm as you glanced at Gojo. He noticed, immediately dropping his teasing demeanor and stepping forward.

“Hey,” he said, his tone suddenly soft, all traces of the previous tension gone. “Let me see.” His voice was unexpectedly gentle, and you could hear the concern, even though he was trying to hide it.

You hesitated for a second before pulling your hand away, letting him check the cut. Gojo gently ran his fingers over the wound, his touch surprisingly careful. His usual cocky grin had disappeared, replaced by a quiet intensity as he inspected it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, his brow furrowed slightly.

You shook your head, a little stunned by the sudden shift. “It’s fine, Gojo. It’s just a scratch.”

He didn’t seem convinced, still looking at the injury like it was more serious than it was. “Still,” he muttered, “don’t want you hurt, okay?” he lets out a small sigh “especially by me.”

You watched him, confused by the sudden change in mood. A second ago, he’d been throwing jabs at you, both literal and verbal and now here he was, tending to you like it was nothing.

You tried to read him, but Gojo’s face was a mask again, the playful grin returning even if it didn’t quite match his eyes. “cmon let’s get it wrapped up,” he said, his tone returning to its usual cocky cadence.

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to piece everything together. But Gojo didn’t seem to want to dive any deeper. He gave you one last look, and you could almost hear the unsaid words in the air between you, but he turned away quickly, dragging you without another word.

You followed, still holding your shoulder, the weight of everything left unsaid hanging heavily in the air.

—

a few years previously

It was a warm summer afternoon, the sun casting a golden glow over the playground where you and Gojo had spent countless hours together since childhood. The two of you were sprawled out on the grass, the faint smell of fresh cut grass mixing with the summer air. You lay side by side, heads tilted back, eyes staring up at the sky, watching the clouds drift lazily by.

“Hey, remember when we used to pretend we were superheroes?” Gojo asked, his voice light, as if it was just yesterday that you both had made up all kinds of ridiculous adventures.

You chuckled, turning your head to look at him. “Yeah, and you always insisted on being the most powerful one, even when I was clearly the more strategic one.”

He shot you a teasing grin, his white hair falling messily across his forehead. “Well I am the most powerful so I had to be the strong one. You needed someone to protect you.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “Please, I was always the one saving you. You had no idea how to plan. I was the brains of the operation.”

Gojo laughed, the sound carefree, like it always was when the two of you were together. “Fine, fine. You were the brains, and I was the muscle.”

“Yeah, I can’t fight you on that one,” you agreed, smiling softly.

The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, the memories of childhood games and adventures playing in your mind like a movie you couldn’t stop watching. It felt strange to think about how things were about to change, how high school would be the next step for both of you, separating you from the simplicity of these carefree days.

“Hey, you think we’ll still hang out after we start high school?” Gojo asked suddenly, his voice quieter now, like he was considering something a little more serious than usual.

You shifted, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him more closely. “Of course we will,” you said with confidence, though part of you was unsure, a little nervous. “We’ve been close since we were little. That’s not going to change just because we go to high school.”

Gojo turned his head to face you, his blue eyes unusually soft. “Yeah, but what if everyone else is… different? What if we’re not as close as we were?”

You smiled, giving him a small, reassuring nudge. “Gojo, we’ve always been close. No matter what happens, that’s not going to change. We’re always going to be us.”

He smiled back, a little brighter this time, though there was a flicker of uncertainty behind his eyes that only you seemed to catch. “Yeah. You’re right.”

You both lay back down, your fingers brushing for a moment before you settled into the grass again, the sound of the wind in the trees the only noise filling the space between you. It was moments like these that made you feel like time would never move forward, like nothing could ever pull the two of you apart.

As you both lay there, it was clear, no matter what high school would bring, you and Gojo would always be close. That bond was unshakable. And even as life would change, as it always did, you knew that it would never quite change the way you felt when you were together.

—

After practice, the tension that had settled between you and Gojo still lingered, but it was quieter now, more subdued. The usual spark in his eyes was a little dimmer, his usual cocky grin tucked away. “Hey,” Gojo finally spoke, breaking the quiet, though his voice wasn’t as playful as usual. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’re apologizing now?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his messy white hair. “I don’t know. Just… being a little much today, I guess. Got in my own head for no reason.”

You glanced at him, still unsure what was going on. “You’ve been weird since practice. What happened?”

Gojo sighed, glancing ahead as if unsure how to explain himself. “I don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t like how things were last night. With Geto, I mean. I wasn’t mad, but… I guess I felt a little weird about it.”

You blinked, trying to piece it together. “Weird how? You think I did something wrong?”

“No, no, not that,” Gojo said quickly, shaking his head. “It’s just that you two seemed so… comfortable. It’s like I wasn’t part of the picture, y’know?” He stopped walking for a second, looking at the ground like he was thinking it over. “I guess I just got a little insecure about it, but that’s on me, not you.”

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, you were silent, letting it sink in. “You don’t need to worry about that. I mean, we’re all friends, right? Geto and I… we were just talking. Nothing more.”

Gojo’s eyes softened slightly, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know. It was dumb. But sometimes I get caught up in my own head, and things just get weird. I don’t want to make things uncomfortable.”

You smiled gently, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s fine. Just don’t go making assumptions, okay? If something’s bothering you, just talk to me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Gojo flashed a small smile at that, but it wasn’t his usual smirk. It was quieter, more thoughtful. “Yeah. I guess I need to stop overthinking stuff.”

You both continued walking, the silence between you now more comfortable. “So, are we good now?” you asked, breaking the quiet again.

Gojo nodded. “Yeah, we’re good. I’ll try not to be such a pain in the ass next time.”

You laughed softly, nudging him with your elbow. “Just don’t be a jerk. That’s all I ask.”

He grinned then, the familiar playful glint returning to his eyes, though it was tempered with something more sincere now. “Deal. But you know you love me anyway.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Sure, sure. You’re my idiot.”

Gojo chuckled, the tension between you now feeling like a distant memory. “Yeah, and I’m fine with that.”

The two of you continued walking, The day had just started and nobody like gojo could make you feel so much in such little time.

—————

Shoko Ieiri never asked to be the unwilling audience to whatever tragic, slow burn, one sided romantic drama her two idiot best friends were trying to pull off. But alas, here she was in the front row seat to the disaster. So let’s present a four part mini opera of watching a dumpster fire puke out babies.

Act One:

It was another regular morning at Jujutsu High. The classroom was quiet, everyone minding their business, trying to get through the day without anything too ridiculous happening. Wishful thinking. Because on the other side of the room, Y/n was drumming their pencil against the desk, humming a tune.

Gojo leaned in, ever so smooth, flashing his usual grin. “Hey, Y/n, what do you say we grab lunch together? Just the two of us?”

Ah, there it was. The daily delusion. Shoko sighed, resting her chin in her palm, waiting for the inevitable crash and burn.

Y/n turned, their face with confusion, not with realization, but pure, innocent excitement. “Gojo, don’t we all eat lunch together everyday? that’s like a no brainer.”

Gojo’s grin faltered for half a second before he recovered. “…Yeah… sure, whatever. You’re just so fun to be around, Y/n. It’s never a harm to ask” He threw in a wink, as if that was going to help.

Shoko took a slow sip from her water bottle . Pathetic. Then looking at her bottle, the stickers all plastered were from you every time you go out to the city in tokyo. You always bring back one for her

Looking back up you were already turning away to her direction. “Hey, Shoko, did you watch that episode of Nana I was telling you about? It was so good!”

Gojo blinked. Shoko stared.

Amazing. That was a direct hit. Instant death. No jujutsu technique needed.

Gojo slumped over his desk, muttering something about how he was right there and you could talk about that show with him while Shoko just smirked. This was getting entertaining.

Act Two:

Between classes, everyone filtered through the hallways, chatting, stretching, or plotting how to sneak past Yaga’s next lecture. But Shoko? She was once again a reluctant bystander to whatever foolishness Geto was about to attempt.

Geto, the smooth talker, slid in with an almost dramatic tone. “So, there’s this new café that opened up downtown. Maybe we could check it out later today? I’m know you’d love the desserts.”

Now, a normal person would recognize this for what it was, an invitation, a clear attempt at spending time together, possibly even a date.

Y/n was not a normal person.

“Oh! I love desserts! But—” They suddenly stopped, looking deep in thought. “Oh! I still have some cookies left from last week’s batch. I should probably finish those before they get stale.”

Geto blinked, his calculated charm thrown completely off course. “Uh, yeah. I guess that would be a smart thing to do.”

Shoko stifled a laugh. Geto, you absolute fool. You thought you were different?

He tried again, nudging them slightly. “But if you do decide to ditch the cookies, I’ll happily accompany you”

Y/n grinned. “That sounds fun, but I really do love my cookies.”

And there it is. Another fatality.

Geto sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Right, right…”

Act Three:

By the afternoon, the four of them had gathered in the courtyard, basking in the rare moment of peace before things inevitably went to hell again. Shoko, once again, sat back to enjoy the train wreck unfold.

Gojo tried first. “So, I was thinking… We could go out for ice cream later. Just the two of us.”

A good attempt. Direct, casual. Maybe this time?

“Ice cream? Oh, that sounds fun!” Y/n nodded, and for a brief moment, hope glimmered in Gojo’s eyes. But then.

“Though I should probably focus on dinner first. Maybe I should stop by the store later for ingredients.”

Gojo smiled, but it was strained. “Yeah… sure, ingredients for dinner.” He shot Geto a please, I’m dying here look, but Geto only shrugged.

Geto leaned in, voice smooth as always. “Honestly, you should just let me take you out to dinner instead. We know by now I know all the best spots. No need to worry about cooking.”

Y/n blinked before smiling. “Oh! That’s so sweet of you, Geto! But, I swear, I’m so bad at picking good places”

Here it comes, Shoko thought, already knowing where this was headed.

“—Like, I thought that noodle place last week was a great idea, and then it was super salty, and—”

Geto chuckled, exasperated. “Yeah, well, that’s why I said i’ll just take you to the best places. No more bad decisions.”

“Wow, you’re are so thoughtful!” Y/n beamed. “Maybe we should all go together, huh? That would be fun!”

Gojo and Geto exchanged a silent look.

They’re not gonna make it.

Shoko sighed, tossing her cigarette away.

Act Four:

Later that afternoon, everyone was gathered at the training grounds, but the real battle had nothing to do with cursed techniques. It was the ongoing war of Will she ever take a hint?

Spoiler: No.

Gojo leaned toward Geto, whispering, “This is getting ridiculous. I should just straight up ask.”

Geto sighed. “Nah. If she’s not getting it now, she never will. just need to wait for the perfect moment.”

Meanwhile, Y/n practically skipped past them, grinning. “Hey, Gojo, Geto! After training, you wanna come watch me try this new recipe I found? I bet it’ll be fun!”

Gojo and Geto exchanged yet another defeated glance before sighing in unison.

Shoko exhaled, flicking her lighter open and shut. Idiots. All of them. But at least it was entertaining.

Maybe one day they’d figure it out.

…Probably not.

—-

The sun beginning to set as you and Geto found yourselves finishing up with the day’s training. Most of the students had already scattered, and Gojo had disappeared to God knows where, leaving just you and Geto alone in the training grounds.

You were still bouncing around with that same vibrant energy, talking about all sorts of things, mostly food, as usual. Geto watched you for a moment, a smirk on his lips. He had tried so many times to ask you out subtly, to flirt here and there, but you were always too distracted by something else, too bubbly to catch the hints.

He sighed softly, running a hand through his black hair. It wasn’t that he wasn’t enjoying your company, it was exactly the opposite. You were easy to be around, your endless energy infectious, and his patience had reached its limit.

You turned to him, noticing the way he was looking at you. “What’s up, Geto? You look like you’re thinking hard about something.”

He took a step closer, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you blink in surprise. “Alright, enough of this.” He said it bluntly, no more jokes or subtle hints. “Listen, you and I are making ramen tonight. Just us. No Gojo, no distractions. We’re doing this.”

You tilted your head, completely oblivious to the seriousness in his voice. “Ramen? Ooh, sounds fun! Wait, do you mean like, together together?” You asked, your enthusiasm growing.

Geto felt a small chuckle bubble up. “Yeah, together together.” He mimicked your tone, feeling a little ridiculous at how long he’d been trying to get you to notice the actual intentions behind his words. “Just the two of us. We’re cooking. No interruptions.”

It finally clicked. He could see the sparkle in your eyes as your face lit up. “Oh! That sounds amazing! I love making ramen! We can make it super spicy, and I’ll bring the snacks!!”

He paused, staring at you for a moment as the realization hit him: Maybe he had been going about it all wrong. You weren’t the kind of person who needed subtlety or flirty comments to catch on. No, you needed directness.

“Exactly,” Geto said, a little more softly, his usual teasing smile playing on his lips. “Just you and me. No distractions. We’ll make the perfect ramen.”

You bounced on your heels, the excitement in your voice palpable. “Yes! I’m so down. Let’s make it a fun night! I promise I’ll keep the kitchen mess to a minimum… well, mostly.” You laughed, already imagining how the night would go.

Geto shook his head fondly, a warm smile finally tugging at his lips. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

As the two of you walked off together to gather ingredients, he couldn’t help but feel a bit lighter. Maybe it wasn’t about trying so hard to get your attention. Maybe it was just about spending time together, letting things unfold naturally. Tonight was a start, at least.

And as you skipped ahead, chattering excitedly about ramen, Geto’s heart did something strange, something he hadn’t quite expected. Maybe this was the way to get closer to you after all.

—-

The quiet hum of the city outside was drowned out by the bubbling broth on the stove and your excited rambling about spice levels.

Suguru found himself watching you more than actually cooking. You were fully in your element, tossing ingredients into the pot with reckless confidence, tasting as you went, adjusting flavors with an enthusiasm that made him smile.

He wasn’t sure when it had started, this thing where he always tried to pull your attention toward him. maybe it was when he first laid his eye on you. He could never tell. Being around you warped his sense of composure Maybe it was back when Gojo first took an interest in you loud, obnoxious, and always draped over your shoulder, demanding your attention.

Suguru had done the same, in his own way. Casual compliments, lingering glances, even slipping little jokes into conversations that only you would catch. But no matter what, you never seemed to pick up on it. If Gojo did the exact same thing, you just laughed, played along, as if it was all part of the game.

Had you ever noticed that Suguru was trying just as hard? That he had been fighting for your attention this whole time?

“Suguru,” your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present. You were holding a ladle out to him, expectantly. “Taste test.”

He blinked, then leaned down, taking a careful sip. The broth was rich, spicy, just a little too much heat but that was exactly how you liked it.

You grinned at him. “Good, right?”

He licked his lips, letting the flavor settle before nodding. “Yeah. It’s perfect.”

Your grin widened as you turned back to the stove, humming to yourself.

Suguru exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. Maybe all this time, he had been making things too complicated. Maybe it wasn’t about trying to win your attention over Gojo’s, or proving something to himself. Maybe it was just about moments like this standing next to you, cooking together, existing in a space that was just yours.

He reached over, plucking a noodle from the pot before you could swat his hand away.

“Hey!” You huffed, glaring playfully. “Patience, Geto.”

He smirked, chewing as he leaned against the counter. “I’ve been patient for a long time.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was warmth in your expression. “Well, it’s paying off now, isn’t it?”

Suguru paused. Then, a slow, genuine smile spread across his face. Yeah. Maybe it was.

—

Suguru smirked as he leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you fuss over the ramen. The way you were talking fast paced, slightly dramatic, and full of over the top confidence reminded him of someone else.

“You know,” he said casually, “I’m starting to think that when Gojo isn’t around, you just turn into a mini version of him.”

You froze mid-stir, turning to face him with an exaggerated gasp. “Excuse me?”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Think about it. You get loud, overly confident, and act like you’re the star of the show. Sound familiar?”

You pointed the ladle at him, scandalized. “I do not act like Satoru.”

Suguru chuckled. “You literally just did the dramatic gasp he does whenever someone insults him.”

Your mouth opened to argue, but then you paused, replaying your own reaction in your head. A look of horror crossed your face. “Oh my God.”

“There it is,” Suguru teased, laughing. “Acceptance is the first step.”

You groaned, dramatically slumping against the counter. “This is terrible. I can’t be like him! I have dignity!”

“Uh huh.” Suguru rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

You grumbled under your breath as you went back to stirring the ramen. “I don’t even wear ugly sunglasses like he does.”

“Yet.”

You whipped around and flicked a droplet of broth at him, making him dodge back with a laugh.

“This is slander,” you huffed, but there was amusement in your eyes. “I’m way cooler than Satoru.”

Suguru hummed, pretending to think. “Eh. Debatable.”

You scoffed, shoving him lightly. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here I am, spending my night with you instead of doing literally anything else.”

You paused at that, blinking up at him. Suguru realized a second too late how genuine that had sounded.

You tilted your head. “Is that your way of saying you like spending time with me?”

Suguru clicked his tongue, turning back to the counter to hide his face. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, mini Satoru.”

You snorted, bumping his shoulder before going back to the ramen. “Whatever you say. Regular boring sized Suguru”

He sighed, shaking his head but he couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips.

He wasn’t sure why, but something about this moment felt… different. The usual teasing from Gojo was absent, no one else was around to interrupt, and for once, he had your attention all to himself.

“You keep staring,” you said suddenly, not looking up from the pot.

Suguru blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah? Maybe I just like watching you cook.”

You snorted, finally glancing at him. “You’re just waiting for me to mess something up, aren’t you?”

“Now why would I do that?” He grinned, but the truth was, he hadn’t even thought about the mess you were inevitably going to make. His mind had been too preoccupied with something else something he hadn’t quite figured out how to say yet.

You waved a hand at him. “Okay, okay, taste test round two.” You scooped up a bit of broth and held the spoon out. “Be honest.”

Suguru leaned in, lips brushing the spoon as he took a slow sip. Your eyes were locked on him, waiting expectantly.

“…It’s good.”

“That’s it?” You frowned, tilting your head. “Just ‘good’?”

Suguru held back a chuckle. “It’s really good.”

You beamed. “That’s better.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken only by the occasional bubbling of the pot. Suguru knew he should say something should bring up the fact that he wasn’t here just because of the ramen, that he wasn’t just tagging along for fun. But the words felt… stuck.

He’d spent so long trying to get you to notice him, to see him the way he saw you. But Gojo was always there, taking up space, making everything a competition. Suguru had been competing without even realizing it.

Maybe it wasn’t a competition at all. Maybe it was just this.

“You’re thinking really hard about something again,” you pointed out, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

Suguru scoffed. “Very funny.”

“I am funny,” you shot back before turning back to the stove, humming to yourself.

Suguru hesitated, then reached out, lightly tugging at the sleeve of your uniform.

You blinked, looking up at him in confusion. “What?”

For once, Suguru didn’t try to be subtle.

“Thank you,” he said simply.

You tilted your head. “thank you? what do you mean”

He chuckled. “for… being yourself. with me, I’m glad it’s just us.”

Your expression softened, and for a moment, Suguru thought just maybe you finally understood what he meant.

You smiled. “Me too.”

And for now, that was enough.

You and Geto leaned back in your chairs, full and satisfied after your surprisingly successful attempt at making ramen. The kitchen was a complete disaster, a few stray noodles on the floor, and broth splashed in places you definitely didn’t remember spilling it

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you grinned. “Okay, I’m not gonna lie… that might’ve been one of the best meals I’ve had in a while.”

Geto stretched his arms behind his head, looking as effortlessly cool as ever. “I’ll admit, I’m impressed. This turned out better than I expected. Though… I’m still not sure how I feel about all the weird internet jokes you kept throwing in.”

You gasped dramatically. “Excuse me? Those are top tier. Don’t act like you didn’t laugh when I said, ‘I like turtles.’”

“I laughed because it was random,” he said, shaking his head, though amusement flickered in his eyes. “Honestly, I’m starting to think you spend too much time online.”

You scoffed. “Hey, just because you don’t appreciate the beauty of Charlie the Unicorn doesn’t mean I have a problem.”

Geto groaned. “That was disturbing. You made me watch a video about a unicorn getting its kidney stolen.”

“It’s iconic,” you corrected. “If you don’t know about Charlie, You don’t deserve the internet at all”

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s kinda the goal.”

You shook your head in mock disappointment. “Wow. So you’re telling me you don’t even check MySpace every day?”

“Nope.”

You gasped again. “You don’t even… wait, do you even have a MySpace?”

Geto smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh my God. You don’t, do you?” You pointed at him. “You’re a MySpace hater.”

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t say I hate it. I just don’t see the point of telling the whole world my favorite song and ranking my friends.”

“You are so lucky we made good ramen, or else I’d be rethinking this friendship.”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “I’ll live.”

You slumped dramatically in your chair. “This is honestly tragic. You probably don’t even know about ‘Peanut Butter Jelly Time.’”

Geto rolled his eyes, but he was clearly holding back a laugh. “I know about it. And I regret knowing about it.”

“You just have no taste,” you said with a grin, finishing off the last bit of broth in your bowl. “But don’t worry, I’ll make sure to educate you properly. By the end of this year, you’ll be quoting ‘The End of the World’ without even realizing it.”

He gave you a side glance. “If that happens, I need you to know that it’s entirely your fault.”

“Obviously,” you said proudly.

Geto shook his head, his smirk softening. “Still, I gotta admit… all this internet nonsense? It makes you you.”

You paused, stomach flipping slightly at the unexpected sincerity in his tone.

“Wow,” you teased, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up your neck. “You’re getting all sentimental on me now?”

He shrugged. “Just telling the truth.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re still insufferable.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk turning a little softer. “You love it.”

You let out an exaggerated sigh. “If you say so. But I’m still not forgiving you for all that slander against early internet culture.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find some way to get back at me,” Geto said, moving to clear the dishes like it was no big deal. “But for now, I’ll give you the win. The ramen was good.”

You leaned back in your chair, watching him. “You’re not half bad yourself, you know.”

He met your gaze, smiling in that quiet, knowing way of his. “Maybe next time, I’ll teach you how to cook something special. Not just ramen.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You just wanna flex your superior cooking skills.”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink as he rinsed his bowl. “Or maybe I just like spending time with you.”

Your heart did a weird little flip. He didn’t even seem to realize what he’d just said, but it hit you harder than you expected.

You blinked, covering it up with an easy smirk. “Oh? And here I thought I was the one keeping things interesting.”

He shot you a teasing look over his shoulder. “You do. That’s why I keep coming back.”

But then, with a final chuckle, Geto turned back to the sink, and the moment passed. You exhaled, pushing yourself up to help him clean. “Alright, alright. I’ll let you have this one.”

“Good,” he said with that infuriatingly smug smile. “You know I don’t like to lose.”

You rolled your eyes, but your grin stayed put. now busy packing away the leftovers from your ramen experiment, the kitchen finally settling into some semblance of order after the chaos of cooking. Humming to yourself, you scraped the last of the broth into a container, already thinking about what to do next.

“Hey,” you called over your shoulder, “we should have a movie night. You, me, Gojo, and Shoko. It’ll be fun.”

At the sink, Geto let out a small, barely audible sigh as he wiped down the counter. It was so subtle you almost missed it, but something about the way his shoulders tensed made you glance over at him. He didn’t say anything, just kept scrubbing at an already clean spot like it had personally offended him.

“Movie night?” you repeated, a little softer now. “It’s been a while since we all hung out. We can watch something dumb like She’s the Man or Napoleon Dynamite, just eat snacks and chill.”

Another pause. This time, you caught the way his jaw tensed before he exhaled.

“You in?” you asked, tilting your head, trying to read him.

“Yeah, sounds great,” he replied, but his voice was flat, and when he put the dishcloth down, he did it with way too much care like he was making an effort not to be rough with it.

Something was definitely off.

You smiled at him anyway, hoping to lighten the mood. “Awesome! I’ll text everyone and see what they wanna watch.”

Grabbing your phone, you started typing, but you kept sneaking glances at Geto. He had moved to the fridge now, but instead of grabbing anything, he just stared inside like it would tell him what to do next. His fingers tapped idly against the door, and his expression was distant, like he wasn’t really present.

You hesitated before speaking again. “Hey,” you said gently, “are you okay?”

He blinked, snapping out of whatever thought had him distracted. “Yeah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Just tired.”

You didn’t entirely believe him, but you also didn’t want to push. Instead, you softened your approach. “too much ramen?”

He gave a small shrug. “Something like that.”

You hummed in understanding. “Well, no pressure. If you don’t feel up for a movie night, I can make up some excuse to cancel. Ill say gojos ego gave me a headache or something.”

That got a small chuckle out of him brief, but there. “Tempting,” he admitted, closing the fridge without taking anything. “But it’s fine. I don’t mind hanging out.”

You smiled. “Good. But if you do want to dip early or just chill instead of watching some dumb comedy, just say the word, okay?”

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time that evening, the tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little. “Alright,” he said, softer this time. “Thanks.”

Feeling like you’d at least chipped away at whatever was bothering him, you turned back to your phone. “Cool. Everyone’s in. We’ll start at eight.”

He nodded, walking over to lean against the counter, watching as you set your phone down. He seemed calmer now, but there was still something unreadable in his expression.

“You want me to pick up snacks?” you asked, glancing at him.

“No need,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ve got it covered.”

You studied him for a second, then decided to let it go. Instead, you grinned. “Alright, cool. Then I’ll focus on setting up the couch. You know how Gojo is about his pillow arrangements.”

That actually got another small smirk out of him, and he shook his head in mild exasperation. “Yeah. He acts like he needs a throne to watch a movie.”

You laughed. “Exactly! Which is why I will be taking the best spot before he gets here.”

Geto just shook his head again, but there was warmth behind his usual sarcasm this time.

You grabbed a blanket from the corner and started draping it over the couch. “Okay, so what do you wanna watch?”

He shrugged. “I’m fine with whatever.”

You gave him a pointed look. “Come on. You always have opinions about movies. What’s your guilty pleasure pick?”

He rolled his eyes but smirked slightly. “I don’t have one.”

You gasped dramatically. “Not even The Lizzie McGuire Movie?”

“Not a chance.”

“Alright, what about High School Musical?”

“Still no.”

You huffed. “You hate joy.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t hate joy. I just don’t need to watch a bunch of teenagers dramatically singing about basketball.”

“Fine,” you said, dramatically flopping onto the couch. “Then you pick something.”

He thought for a second, then finally said, “How about Pirates of the Caribbean?”

You perked up. “Okay, solid choice. Jack Sparrow is iconic.”

Geto smirked. “Exactly.”

—

You were digging through your closet, feeling content now that the tension from earlier had faded a little. “This is gonna be fun,” you murmured, pulling a blanket out and throwing it on the bed.

From across the room, Geto hesitated, watching you. The frustration that had been lingering in his expression all night seemed to finally fade, replaced by something quieter something softer.

He didn’t say anything, just shook his head to himself before heading to grab the dishes. “Yeah,” he muttered, almost too quiet for you to hear. “It will be.”

—

adjusting the TV, making sure everything was perfect for the upcoming movie night. The room was cozy, blankets spread across the floor, pillows carefully arranged on the couch. You had even set up a snack station chips, candy, and, of course, a bowl of ramen (leftovers from earlier). Satisfied, you were just about to sit down and relax when

BAM!

Gojo burst through the door like a human hurricane, his usual cocky grin stretched across his face, eyes alight with excitement.

Before you could react

WHAM!

He scooped you up effortlessly, lifting you clean off the ground like some kind of overexcited golden retriever in human form.

“Movie night!” he shouted, his voice way too loud for the small space. “It’s starting! Let’s gooooo!”

You let out a surprised squeal, kicking your legs as you tried to break free. “Gojo! What the hell? Put me down!”

But he only laughed, spinning you around like a ragdoll. “You were taking too long! We gotta get in the zone mentally, physically, spiritually—”

“You’re gonna break my back, you psycho!”

From the couch, Geto watched the scene unfold with mild amusement, lazily popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. His expression was unreadable, but the way he leaned back with an arm draped over the back of the couch told you he was thoroughly entertained.

“Gojo, let her breathe,” Geto finally said, though his voice held no real urgency. “We do still need her conscious for the movie.”

Gojo scoffed but finally let you go, dropping you onto a pile of pillows with exaggerated care. “There. Safe and sound!”

You huffed, pushing your hair out of your face as you shot him a glare. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, you keep inviting me back,” he teased, plopping down beside you like he hadn’t just thrown you around like a wrestling dummy.

Shaking your head, you turned to Geto. “Can you believe him?”

Geto smirked. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been wounded. “Betrayed. By my own best friends.”

“Shoko’s not even here yet,” you pointed out, looking at the clock. “She’s late as always.”

Geto hummed. “Classic Shoko.”

“Alright, alright, what are we watching?” Gojo said, grabbing the remote and scrolling aimlessly through the DVD menu. “Because I vote Shrek. A classic. Iconic. Timeless.”

Geto groaned. “We watched that last time and we already decided a movie.”

“Yeah, because it’s good,” Gojo argued. “What else are we gonna watch? The Notebook?” He made an exaggerated gagging sound.

You rolled your eyes. “like something with actual adventure? Like Pirates of the Caribbean?”

At that, both Gojo and Geto perked up slightly.

“Oh,” Gojo said, considering it. “You know what? That is a solid choice.”

Geto nodded.

You grinned. “Great, then it’s settled. Captain Jack Sparrow it is.”

As you pressed play, the usual chaos settled into a comfortable stillness. The glow of the TV flickered across the room, casting warm shadows on the walls. The energy from earlier had finally evened out, leaving only the familiar quiet of good company.

Gojo, predictably, ended up sprawled next to you, his head resting against your shoulder like he’d done it a thousand times before. He hadn’t even asked, just flopped down with a content sigh, making himself at home.

Meanwhile, Geto had claimed his usual spot infront of you, his posture relaxed but still composed, his eyes half lidded as he absently ate from the bowl of popcorn in his lap.

Shoko, having arrived late as usual, was already half asleep, curled up on the floor in a pile of pillows. The quiet rise and fall of her breathing mixed with the sounds of the movie playing in the background.

Gojo shifted slightly, pressing closer, his arm draping lazily over your side. “You make a great headrests,” he murmured, half awake.

You huffed a quiet laugh but didn’t move away. “You’re lucky I tolerate you.”

“I know,” he sighed, fully content.

Geto, looking back from his spot, shook his head in mild exasperation, As the movie played on, the world outside seemed to fade. You, Gojo, Geto, and Shoko just the four of you, tangled in blankets, sharing warmth and quiet moments that didn’t need to be spoken aloud.

In the soft silence of the room, you felt the small, intimate moments that made this all feel so right. Gojo’s head, warm and heavy against your shoulder, the gentle movement of his hand as it brushed against your side occasionally, a reminder that even in his antics, he still found peace in being close to you. Geto’s calm presence, so steady, grounding The feeling of being wrapped in their presence was quiet, comforting.

Gojo shifted again, scooting just a little closer, his body curling into you with an ease that made you smile despite yourself. You weren’t sure how long you’d been sitting there, but you realized the movie was mostly a background noise now, the quiet comfort of their presence making everything else fade away.

You absentmindedly ran your fingers through gojo’s hair, the softness of it a comforting distraction. His bright strands slipped through your fingers, each motion slow and deliberate. It was soothing his hair, the steady sound of the movie in the background, the rhythmic rise and fall of Gojo’s breathing as he laid next to you, perfectly at ease. It felt like the world outside had disappeared for a while.

You glanced at Shoko, who had sprawled herself out on the floor in a nest of pillows. Her usual indifference was replaced with a rare, unbothered expression, her eyes closed as she softly snored, blissfully unaware of the world. You couldn’t help but smile inwardly. Of course, she’s asleep already.

——

Geto’s footsteps were silent as he made his way to the door, but even in the quiet, he couldn’t quite escape the feeling that settled in his chest. He paused for a moment, glancing back at the scene in front of him. The room was still, save for the soft rise and fall of your breathing as you lay peacefully between Gojo’s arms. Gojo had shifted so that he was fully curled around you, his head resting gently on top of yours, as if you were always meant to be this close. Your soft breaths were a contrast to the rhythmic rise and fall of Gojo’s chest, which seemed impossibly calm despite the chaos of their lives.

For a moment, Geto stood there, just watching. There was something so comforting about the image of you nestled in Gojo’s arms. It was peaceful. It was perfect. But it made something twist inside him something old, something familiar. Something that had always been there, lurking, every time he let his heart wander too far into thoughts of you.

You had always been Gojo’s, whether you’d known it or not. The bond they shared had always been clear, too strong to ignore. Geto wasn’t foolish enough to pretend it wasn’t. They’d always been together friends, partners in everything from training to missions and while Geto knew his place, he couldn’t help but want more. He wanted more than just being the second person in the room. More than always being the one to stand in Gojo’s shadow, even when he told himself it was fine, it was enough.

And yet, despite the ache, despite the pull of his emotions that made his chest tight, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. Not from you. Not from this.

His eyes softened, his gaze lingering on you as you lay between Gojo’s arms, still unaware of his presence. He wished, for just a moment, that things were different. That you could see it the way he did see him the way he wanted you to. But it was easier to be the one in the background. It was safer, less complicated.

You were happy like this, with Gojo, and Geto could never bring himself to take that away from you.

But there was always that gnawing feeling, that silent, quiet resentment that clung to him. The bitter realization that no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much he might want it, he was always going to be the one left behind. The second option. The one who watched from the sidelines as Gojo took what he wanted what you wanted.

He swallowed hard, turning his back to the room, his fingers brushing lightly against the doorframe. He let out a soft, almost inaudible exhale. “Maybe next time,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely a murmur.

He didn’t give up. Not on you, not on his feelings, not on his place in your life.

But tonight, as he watched Gojo protectively curl around you, the ache in his chest was a little more difficult to ignore. And for a moment, just a moment, Geto let himself feel it let himself feel the weight of being the one who always stood at the edge of the frame, never truly part of the picture.

He pushed the door open quietly, slipping out into the hallway with a final glance at the scene. And then, he let it go for now.

He would wait.

Just like he always had.

—

The early morning light filtered through your window, casting a soft, hazy glow across the room. The sound of steady breathing filled the space, the comforting rhythm of Gojo and Shoko still deep in sleep beside you. But something felt off. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. You had been half awake for a while, the warmth of Gojo’s arm around you, the soft rustling of Shoko in her sleep, but your mind kept wandering back to Geto.

He hadn’t been with you all morning.

You slid carefully from your bed, trying not to disturb Gojo or Shoko, and crept out into the hallway, padding softly toward Geto’s room. The floorboards creaked lightly underfoot, but the house was still and quiet in the early hours. When you reached the door, you hesitated for just a moment before gently pushing it open.

Geto was there. He stood near the window, his back to you, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. His figure was a silhouette against the light, bathed in the soft golden light of dawn. His posture was still, almost too still, like he was lost in his own thoughts.

You stepped closer, careful not to disturb him, and gently knocked on the doorframe.

“Geto?”

He didn’t turn right away. His eyes stayed fixed on the view outside, but there was a slight shift in his shoulders that told you he’d heard you.

“…You’re up early,” he finally said, his voice soft, almost quieter than usual.

“I could say the same for you,” you replied, your words light but carrying a weight of concern.

He let out a slow breath, but still, he didn’t turn to face you. His gaze remained focused on the outside world.

You walked into the room, closing the door behind you gently, your bare feet making soft taps on the wooden floor as you moved to sit beside him. There was an unspoken quiet between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The room felt calm, almost sacred in the stillness of the morning.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. It was just the quiet sounds of the world outside and the soft rhythm of your breaths as you sat next to him, a companion in the silence. You wanted to ask what was on his mind, but you knew better than to push. Sometimes, silence was the only answer that made sense between you two.

Your gaze shifted to his hair, messy from sleep and the weight of his thoughts. It wasn’t the first time you’d noticed the strands falling in a way that looked far too tangled for someone who always had their life so meticulously in order. Without thinking, your fingers reached up, brushing a few strands away from his face. His hair was softer than you remembered, even with the small tangles, and it felt calming to be this close to him.

You didn’t speak just continued brushing through his hair, your fingers moving delicately through the strands. You didn’t need to say anything; the act itself was enough. You could feel the tension in his body start to loosen under your touch, the sharp edges of whatever burden he’d been carrying softening with each stroke.

After a while, Geto finally let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing. He didn’t turn toward you, but you could feel his presence shift, becoming more grounded, more at peace. His fingers twitched slightly, but they stayed resting on his lap, not yet reaching for yours, but you felt the quiet acknowledgment between you.

“You don’t have to do that,” Geto said, his voice still soft, though it wasn’t as distant as before. “You could just ask me what’s wrong.”

You paused for a moment, letting your hand hover for a second before continuing to brush through his hair, the light click of your fingers in his strands the only sound in the room.

“I don’t need to ask,” you murmured. “I can tell. You’re always so quiet when something’s bothering you.”

Geto chuckled, a soft sound, and finally, his gaze shifted. He looked at you, his eyes soft and almost tired, but there was something there something vulnerable. “You know me too well,” he said with a slight smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You smiled back at him, your fingers still combing through his hair. “I don’t need to know everything to see when you’re carrying something heavy.”

There was another long silence. The kind that wasn’t awkward but felt like the two of you had somehow always understood each other without needing to say it out loud. The quiet hum of the outside world filtered into the room, the chirping of birds, the faint rustle of the morning breeze. It was the kind of peace that felt infinite, as if the world outside was perfectly content to wait for you two to find your calm before it continued on.

You continued to brush through his hair, and Geto’s breath evened out. There was no need for words only the comfort of this small, private moment between the two of you. You didn’t need to ask him what was on his mind, and he didn’t need to tell you. Not right now, anyway.

For a brief moment, Geto closed his eyes, his head tipping slightly toward you as he let himself be present in the peace you’d created. Your touch was grounding, like a steady rhythm that pulled him back from whatever distant thoughts had been pulling at him.

Geto rn after this chapter:

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um… i wrote some spicy headcannons… I uhhh 🙉

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

────୨ৎ────

Geto Suguru x Reader

Gojo Satoru x Reader

────୨ৎ────

⋆˚✿˖° 2. I’ve Played these Games Before

Headcannon, the men are stupid

if you missed the last chapter and want more-> masterlist

₍^. .^₎⟆ Geto sighed, stretching his arms as he strolled toward his dorm. The study session had been useless (as expected), but at least it had been entertaining. Though, if he was being honest, the best part of the evening had been watching Gojo flail around in real-time romantic panic.

He smirked to himself. That was going to be fun to watch unfold.

Not that he cared much about the bet itself. That was just a way to mess with Gojo, to see him squirm. Nothing more.

His plan was simple he’d treat you exactly the same as always. Calm, confident, teasing. Unlike Gojo, he didn’t need to rely on some ridiculous strategy. He wasn’t about to start googling psychological tricks like a lovesick idiot.

No, he’d just make a few subtle changes. More intentional eye contact. More casual touches. More moments of quiet attention, the kind that made people feel like they were the only one in the room.

At least, that’s what he thought, until lunchtime the next day, when Gojo started getting on his nerves.

Because, of course, Gojo wasn’t capable of subtlety.

“Wow,” Gojo whistled, sliding into the seat across from you. “Look at you, already eating without me? I thought we had something special.”

You looked up mid bite, a spoonful of rice halfway to your mouth. “Gojo, you were literally behind me in line.”

“Details,” he waved off, dramatically propping his chin in his hand. “But you know, I was thinking of eating alone today… until I saw you, and my heart just knew I couldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “Sounds rough, buddy.”

His sunglasses slid down his nose just enough for you to see his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You have no idea.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, taking another bite of your food. Gojo watched you closely, subtly shifting in his seat. Step one—mirroring movements. You lifted your spoon, and he lazily picked up his chopsticks. You leaned forward slightly, and he mirrored the action. He was subtle about it, of course. Natural. Completely normal. Definitely not weird.

Except you paused, squinting at him.

“…Are you copying me?”

Gojo choked on air. “Wh—what? No! Pfft. I’m just sitting.”

Your grin widened. “Satoru, are you copying me?”

He waved his chopsticks. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

You squinted a second longer, then shrugged, going back to your food. “Mhm. Sure.”

Gojo let out a silent breath. Okay. Maybe less obvious on that one.

Right. Step two—eye contact.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm as he gazed at you, letting his signature smirk tug at his lips. A confident, roguish expression that, historically, had driven people wild.

You, however, just blinked at him. “Are you- why are you staring at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re waiting for me to read your mind or something.”

Gojo sighed dramatically. “I was just admiring the way the cafeteria lights shine in your eyes. Very mesmerizing. Stunning, even.”

You blinked again. “Satoru, the cafeteria lights are fluorescent.”

“Exactly,” he grinned. “Yet, somehow, you make them work.”

You just groaned, shaking your head. “You are so weird.”

He ignored the minor setback and moved to Step three—casual physical touch. Casual. Natural. Smooth. So he reached across the table and lightly flicked your forehead.

You recoiled, dramatically grabbing your head. “Ow?!”

“Oops.” He grinned. “Slipped.”

“You slipped into flicking me?”

“Crazy, right?”

You narrowed your eyes before retaliating, smacking his arm with the back of your spoon. “Oops,” you mimicked, grinning. “I slipped.”

Gojo laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, truce.” You huffed, still smiling, before turning your attention back to your food.

Step four—make them laugh.

He was already a pro at that. Easy. No problem. You weren’t in a bad mood or anything, just a little spaced out, quietly picking at your food while Geto and Shoko talked beside you. Normally, you’d be more engaged, but today, your mind just wasn’t all there.

Gojo, of course, noticed. And he could not let that slide.

“Alright, I’m making an official declaration,” he announced, leaning forward with a grin. “I’m getting her—” he pointed dramatically at you “—to laugh before lunch is over.”

Shoko didn’t even look up from her juice box. “Shouldn’t take long. Five minutes.”

“Two,” Geto said, smirking. “He’s predictable.”

You blinked at them. “Wait—what? I do laugh.”

“Not enough,” Gojo countered, watching you with exaggerated scrutiny. “Not the real, ugly, snorting kind. That’s the goal.”

“You don’t need that,” you said flatly.

“Oh, but I do.”

He leaned forward, hands clasped like he was about to deliver something profound. “Okay. Picture this. I’m fighting this cursed spirit the other day—big, ugly thing, smelled like a sewer. And it looks at me and goes, ‘Hey, aren’t you that discount Kakashi?’”

Silence.

Geto exhaled through his nose, mildly amused. Shoko just sighed. You gave Gojo a slow blink.

Gojo placed a hand on his chest, scandalized. “Nothing? That was comedy gold.”

“That was sad,” Geto corrected.

“Okay, fine, I can do better,” Gojo said, shaking it off before dramatically throwing himself against Geto’s side. “Bro, I can’t believe this. My own best friend, laughing before she does. This is a betrayal. How do I go on?”

“Quieter,” Geto muttered, shoving him off.

Gojo ignored him. “Alright, last attempt.” He turned to you, suddenly serious. “If you don’t laugh in the next ten seconds, I’m taking your dessert.”

Your head snapped up. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

And then, as if to prove he meant business, he grabbed two onigiri from Geto’s tray, wiggled them like little sock puppets, and in the most high pitched, overly dramatic voice you’d ever heard, went:

“Oh no, Gojo-sama, please spare us! We are but humble rice balls!”

He made one onigiri turn to the other. “Brother, I don’t think he’s going to show us mercy…”

The second onigiri shook dramatically. “No, we still have so much to live for! My wife, my children, who will tell them what happened to me?”

“I will, dear brother,” the first one promised solemnly. “I will tell them of your bravery!”

“No!” The second onigiri screamed (or rather, Gojo screamed for it). “You must live on! Let me be the one to—AHHH!”

And with that, Gojo chucked the onigiri into his mouth and took an exaggerated, victorious bite.

You burst out laughing. The kind of laugh you couldn’t hold in if you tried, the kind that made you lean forward onto the table, shoulders shaking as you gasped for air.

Gojo pointed at you with a mouthful of rice. “Boom. Victory.”

Shoko sighed, sipping her juice. “Took longer than I thought.”

Geto shook his head. “I’m never letting you near my food again.”

But Gojo wasn’t listening. He was too busy basking in his success, leaning toward you with a cocky grin. “Told you you couldn’t resist my charm.”

“You’re an idiot,” you wheezed, still catching your breath.

“And yet,” Gojo said, stealing your dessert anyway, “an idiot with perfect comedic timing.” You groaned I’m reply.

He grinned, triumphant.

Then, Step five, say their name more. “Hey, (Y/N),” he drawled, propping his chin on his hand.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Satoru?”

He blinked. “Uh.”

Damn it. He didn’t actually have anything to say. He’d just read in some stupid article that saying your name was supposed to make you subconsciously more interested in him.

“…Nothing,” he said smoothly, smiling. “Just wanted to remind you how nice your name sounds.”

You gave him a look. “Right.”

A beat of silence. Then

“Satoru,” you said, voice suspiciously sweet.

Gojo grinned. “Yeah?”

“You are being weird.”

“Me?” He placed a hand over his chest, mock-offended. “Weird? Perish the thought.”

You just laughed, shaking your head as you finished the last of your food. “Anyway, as fun as this has been, Im a little thirsty.”

Gojo gasped. “What, you’re leaving me?”

“You’ll survive.” You smirked, standing up. “Probably.”

He clutched his chest dramatically. “(Y/N), your cruelty knows no bounds.”

You just rolled your eyes but smiled. “I’ll be back I want to get a other juice Gojo”

And then you were gone, disappearing into the cafeteria crowd.Gojo sighed, dropping his head onto the table.Well. That could’ve gone better. He pulled out his phone, opening his notes app.

The Gojo Satoru Foolproof Love Plan™ (That Hopefully Works and Doesn’t End in Humiliation)

1. Mirroring movements (FAILED. TOO OBVIOUS.)

2. Eye contact (??? Unclear. Need feedback.)

3. Casual touches (Flicking? Bad idea. Find alternative.)

4. Make them laugh (SUCCESS. OBVIOUSLY.)

5. Say their name more (Awkward. Do not force it.)

6. Grand romantic gesture??? (Not yet. Too soon.)

7. Don’t mess this up. (Currently… TBD.)

Gojo sighed, locking his phone.

—

Geto watched from across the lunch table, fingers idly tapping against his drink, as Gojo leaned way too far into your space. He dropped your name into the conversation at least three times in the last minute, nudged your arm, and let out an exaggerated laugh at something you’d said, something that wasn’t that funny. Then when you got up he looked straight at gojo.

“Alright,” Geto drawled, resting his chin in his palm. “Are you trying to scare them away?”

Gojo shot him a look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Geto just raised an eyebrow. Gojo’s eye twitched slightly. Shoko, who had been watching this unfold with the air of someone witnessing a tragic yet hilarious accident, snorted. “You’re overdoing it,” she told Gojo.

“No, I’m not” Gojo started, then cut himself off, visibly forcing himself to look less desperate. He leaned back, feigning ease. “I mean, pfft. No way. This is all natural.”

Geto exhaled slowly, leveling Gojo with a knowing look.

Because here was the thing, Gojo wasn’t bad at this. He was naturally charismatic. He could be smooth. But when he actually cared about something? When it actually mattered?

He became a disaster, it was obvious that this mattered. Which meant Geto had the upper hand for now. He allowed himself a small smirk before turning back to you as you came back. Unlike Gojo, he wouldn’t trip over himself. He wouldn’t force it. He’d just let things fall into place.

This was going to be easy.

Except.

As lunch went on, Geto noticed something.

At first, Gojo’s fumbling had been amusing. Watching the ever-confident Satoru practically trip over his own feet was undeniably entertaining. But the longer Geto watched, the more he started to realize why Gojo was messing up so badly. Because Gojo flirted all the time. He teased, he charmed half the jujitsu world was wrapped around his finger without him even trying.

Gojo actually liked you.

The thought settled like a weight in Geto’s chest. His fingers tapped idly against the table.

He glanced at you. You were laughing, completely oblivious to the quiet crisis happening across the table. And something about that sent an uncomfortable twist through his stomach.

He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like this was serious. He was just messing with Gojo. That’s what he’d told himself. That’s all this was.

…Right?

Then why did his gaze linger a little too long when you smiled? Why did it bother him when Gojo made you laugh first? Why did it feel like he was always second to Gojo?

Because that was how it always went, wasn’t it?

Gojo was loud, blinding, impossible to ignore. The center of attention in every room. And Geto?

He was there. A presence. A shadow. Not invisible, not overlooked but never first. watching Gojo fight for your attention, watching you react to him, laugh at him. The weight in Geto’s chest grew heavier. His grip on his drink tightened.

No.

This wasn’t about Gojo. It wasn’t about the bet. It wasn’t about proving a point. This was about you. Because he didn’t just want to win. He wanted you and for you to know he wont always come second

He exhaled slowly, leaning back in his seat, watching as Gojo tried (and failed) to act casual.

—

“You know, (Y/n),” Gojo drawled, slinging an arm over the back of your chair like he owned the place. His fingers drummed lazily against the wood, his usual cocky smirk in place. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s a first,” you quipped without missing a beat, eyes still focused on your food as you casually poked at your meal.

Across the table, Geto exhaled a quiet chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. Shoko, perched beside him with her cigarette balanced between two fingers, barely hid her smirk as she took a slow drag.

Gojo clicked his tongue, feigning offense. “Rude. I was about to say something really profound, actually.

Finally, you glanced up at him, eyes sparkling with playful curiosity. “Oh? Enlighten me, oh wise and powerful one.”

Gojo grinned wider, but Geto, who knew him better than anyone, noticed the way his fingers tapped just a little too quickly against the table. A nervous tic, barely noticeable. Interesting.

“Well, now I don’t want to with that attitude” Gojo continued, voice dripping with forced nonchalance. “I was just thinking, don’t you think we make a great pair?”

You blinked at him, head tilting slightly with a smirk. “A pair of what, exactly?”

For the first time since opening his mouth, Gojo hesitated. It was only for a fraction of a second, but in that brief pause, Geto could see the exact moment doubt crept into his friend’s mind.

“A pair of… cool people?” Gojo finally offered, flashing a sheepish smile, one hand adjusting his sunglasses even though they hadn’t moved.

There was a beat of silence. Shoko exhaled smoke through her nose, unimpressed. Geto took a slow sip of his drink, watching the interaction unfold with the air of a man witnessing a slow motion car crash painful, but fascinating.

Meanwhile, you squinted at Gojo, head tilting slightly, as if trying to decipher some kind of hidden meaning. “Did you just try to flirt with me by suggesting we… form a club?”

“No” Gojo started, but before he could finish, Geto decided to cut in. Because, really, this was just too good to pass up.

“Oh, I dunno,” he interjected smoothly, tilting his head slightly in your direction. His voice carried the perfect balance of amusement and intrigue, just enough to make Gojo twitch. “I think he’s onto something. You are pretty cool, after all.”

That got your attention. Your lips curled into a delighted grin as you turned to Geto. “Someone recognizes my greatness!” You placed a dramatic hand over your chest. “It’s about time.” You stick out your tongue to gojo

“Get I’m your knees and say I’m cool and you’re not ” You pointed your chopsticks at gojo,

Geto hummed, pleased with himself as he set his drink down. “I only speak the truth.”

Gojo’s eye twitched. Oh, come on.

Shoko exhaled another puff of smoke, watching the scene unfold like it was the best entertainment she’d had in weeks. This is a mess, she thought. A hilarious, glorious mess.

Gojo, meanwhile, looked like he was seconds away from combusting. He narrowed his eyes at Geto, who looked far too pleased with himself, before quickly shaking it off.

“Anyway,” Gojo cut back in, clearly trying to regain control of the conversation. He turned to you again, tapping your shoulder lightly as his grin returned. “What I meant was, you and me? We work well together, y’know? Great chemistry and all that.”

You smirk at him. “Like lab partners?”

There was a moment of silence and then Shoko choked on her drink. Geto coughed lightly, raising a fist to his mouth to cover his smirk. But internally? He was dying.

Gojo froze. His jaw clenched for just a fraction of a second before he forced a grin, his usual confidence cracking under the weight of sheer secondhand embarrassment. “Exactly like lab partners,” he said, voice painfully flat.

“Cool!” You beamed, completely oblivious to Gojo’s growing inner turmoil. “Let me know when we’re dissecting frogs, I guess.” Then you for up and ran to utahime for a moment when you see her aggressively waving you over.

Gojo groaned, flopping back in his seat like a man defeated.

Shoko wiped a tear from her eye, shaking her head. “This is actually painful to watch.”

“Not for me,” Geto mused, barely containing his smirk as he leaned back.

Gojo turned his head just enough to glare at him. “You suck.”

“Aw, Satoru,” Geto drawled, resting his chin in his palm. “Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“Losing implies I’ve lost,” Gojo shot back, sitting up with renewed determination. “And I never lose.”

Geto merely raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he said smoothly, sipping his drink again. But inside, he was still thinking about the way you had laughed at his words. The way you had turned to him so easily, bright eyed and happy.

And just like that, what was supposed to be a harmless bet felt like something else entirely. Something he wasn’t willing to lose.

—

After lunch wrapped up, Gojo had been dragged away by some underclassmen pestering him for help though, judging by his exaggerated groan of suffering, you’d think they were sentencing him to life in prison. Shoko had peeled off shortly after, muttering something about a nap and waving lazily over her shoulder.

That left you and Geto.

The two of you walked side by side through the courtyard, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement. It was warm but not unpleasant, with a soft breeze rustling through the trees. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance.

“So,” Geto said, hands slipping casually into his pockets. “Lab partners, huh?”

You grinned, glancing up at him. “What? You don’t think me and Gojo have great chemistry?”

Geto hummed, pretending to consider it. “More like chaotic combustion.”

You laughed, nudging his arm playfully. “Okay, thats just basic math when you out us I’m a room together”

The sound of your laughter settled into Geto’s chest, warm and lingering. He’d always liked that about you how easy it was for you to find amusement in things, how naturally lighthearted you could be. It was one of the reasons he enjoyed your company so much.

He wasn’t even sure when it had started this noticing of yours. The way you smiled when you were really, genuinely happy. The way your hands moved when you talked excitedly. The way your eyes lit up when you were being playful, like they had during lunch when you had turned to him.

Yeah. He was noticing a lot more than he used to.

“You were really enjoying yourself back there,” you mused, shooting him a knowing look.

Geto smirked. “Can you blame me? Watching Gojo crash and burn is one of life’s simplest pleasures.”

You laughed again, and he found himself watching you a little too closely.

It had started as a joke. Just a bet. A way to mess with Gojo and watch him struggle for once.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

Maybe it was because you always seemed to get along with him so easily, without all the dramatics and fanfare that followed Gojo everywhere. Maybe it was because teasing you came as naturally as breathing, and you always played along. Maybe it was because, when you looked at him, it never felt like he was standing in Gojo’s shadow.

Because Geto had spent years watching people flock to Gojo first. It wasn’t something he resented, not really it was just the way things were. Gojo was loud, larger than life, the sun in the center of everyone’s orbit.

But now, as you walked beside him, smiling and laughing and completely unaware of the thoughts creeping into his head he wondered what it would be like if, just this once, he wasn’t second.

If you chose him.

“Alright, then,” you said suddenly, shaking him from his thoughts. “If Gojo and I are chaotic combustion, what kind of chemistry do we have?”

You grinned up at him, eyes bright with curiosity. Playful. Innocent. But for the first time all afternoon, Geto felt just the slightest bit off balance. But for the first time all afternoon, Geto felt just the slightest bit off balance. Because for all his usual confidence, for all his careful, patient planning, he hadn’t been expecting that.

His smirk lingered, but this time, it took a fraction of a second longer to form.

“Hmm,” he mused, tilting his head in thought. “I’d say… slow burn.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Wait, is that a real chemistry thing or—”

“Who knows?” Geto said smoothly, flashing you a teasing smile before stepping ahead. “Guess you’ll have to figure it out.”

You gaped at him. “Oh, now you’re being mysterious?”

He only laughed, glancing back over his shoulder. “What can I say? Gotta keep things interesting.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned as you jogged to catch up with him and Geto, for all his patience, was beginning to wonder if maybe, just maybe, he wanted to win this more than he thought.

The neon lights of Tokyo buzzed overhead as the four of you wandered the crowded streets, blending into the after-school . It was that perfect in between time too early for the late-night crowd, but just late enough that everything felt a little more exciting.

And, as usual, Gojo was causing problems.

“You dragged us out here,” you sighed, watching Gojo pat down his pockets like he’d just realized he forgot something important. “How do you not know where we’re going?”

“I do know!” Gojo huffed, placing a hand over his heart like you’d mortally wounded him. “I’m just giving the night a sense of mystery.”

“You lost the directions, didn’t you?” Shoko deadpanned.

“Have some faith in me,” Gojo scoffed.

“I did,” Geto mused. “Then I watched you confidently lead us to a random 7-Eleven last time because you thought there was a ‘secret food market’ underground.”

Gojo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are none of you gonna let that go?”

“No,” you, Geto, and Shoko said in unison.

Gojo grumbled under his breath, but before he could keep digging his own grave, you gestured toward a bright, bustling arcade across the street.

“Let’s just go in there,” you suggested. Pointing towards the arcade near by “Since our fearless leader clearly has no actual plan.”

Gojo perked up. “Hey! I did have a plan—”

“Oh my god, shut up and walk,” Shoko sighed, already making her way inside.

—

The place was packed, rows of flashing game screens, the constant clinking of tokens, and the occasional victorious yell from someone landing a big win. It was the kind of that was just fun enough to be energizing rather than overwhelming.

Immediately, Gojo beelined for a claw machine. “I’m winning something for you,” he declared, pointing at you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Bold of you to assume you’ll win.”

Gojo grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Bold of you to underestimate me.”

“Gojo, I watched you spend 3,000 yen last time trying to win a keychain,” Geto reminded him, his voice thoroughly unimpressed.

“Okay, but this time is different,” Gojo insisted. “This time, I have motivation.”

You snorted. “Sure you do.”

Shoko rolled her eyes and wandered off to find a rhythm game, and Geto turned to you, smirking. “Wanna bet on how many tries it takes before he gives up?”

You grinned. “Oh, absolutely.”

Thirty Minutes Later…

Gojo was slumped against the claw machine, forehead pressed against the glass, as the plush he had almost grabbed slipped back into the pile for what had to be the twentieth time.

“…This thing is rigged,” he muttered.

Geto, sipping his drink, hummed. “Mmm. Sure.”

You held out a hand toward him. “Pay up.”

Geto sighed but placed a few coins into your palm. “I should’ve known better.”

Shoko strolled back over, glancing at Gojo’s miserable form. “Wow. Are we gonna have to carry you out of here?”

Gojo groaned dramatically. “Leave me. I belong to the void now.”

You rolled your eyes before stepping up to the machine, slipping in a coin. “Here,” you said, gripping the controls. “Let me show you how it’s done.”

Gojo peeled himself off the glass just enough to watch, skeptical. “If you win this on your first try, I’m actually gonna lose my mind.”

You maneuvered the claw, timed the drop perfectly, and…….Bam!

“Your mind better be severally lost when I turn around” you smirk while holding it out to the three of them. Then talking a look at the white haired guy.

“Here, since you worked so hard for it”

Gojo blinked. Then he stared at you. “…You’re giving it to me?”

You shrugged. “Yeah. You worked hard for it.”

Gojo expected you to rub it in, to make some smug comment about how much better you were, but you didn’t. You just… gave it to him. No teasing, no conditions. Just an easy, casual, Here, this is yours.

Something in his chest actually ached.

He took the plush from your hands, staring down at it like it was something important.

“…Wow,” he muttered, voice a little quieter than usual. “So this is what kindness feels like.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“No, no, this is a life changing moment,” Gojo insisted, holding the plush to his chest. “I feel so appreciated right now.”

Geto smirked. “You’re gonna sleep with that thing, aren’t you?”

Gojo scoffed. “Of course not.” He absolutely was.

Shoko yawned. “Can we go now, or do you need a moment to emotionally bond with the plush?”

Gojo pouted. “Let me have this.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “C’mon, Gojo.”

As the four of you made your way back outside, Gojo fell into step beside you, still clutching the plush. He glanced at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Maybe he had completely embarrassed himself tonight, but… This was definitely the best prize he’d ever won.

—

The four of you ended up at a cozy little ramen shop tucked into a side street, the kind of place with handwritten menus, warm lighting, and the rich smell of broth and grilled meats filling the air. It was nothing fancy, but it was good, one of Geto’s usual spots, which meant it was guaranteed to be great.

The ramen shop was cozy, the kind of place that felt like a well kept secret. The handwritten menus, the warm yellow glow from the hanging lanterns, the smell of rich broth and grilled skewers, it all made for a welcoming atmosphere. A place you could linger, talk, enjoy good food without pretense.

Gojo was still holding the small, plush keychain you’d won for him at the arcade earlier, absentmindedly squeezing it between his fingers as you all slid into a booth. He had insisted he didn’t need it, but you had seen the way his face lit up when you handed it to him, how he twirled it in his hands the entire walk over. He hadn’t let go of it since.

Shoko and Gojo immediately launched into a heated debate over toppings, something about whether bamboo shoots were a necessary addition or a waste of space.

You and Geto exchanged a glance. Unspoken solidarity.

“You wanna share something?” Geto’s voice was casual, smooth, as he leaned an elbow against the table, turning his full attention to you.

You blinked. “Uh"…

Gojo, mid argument with Shoko, snapped his head around so fast you thought he might get whiplash.

“What?”

Geto hummed, reaching for the menu, eyes glinting with amusement. “I was just saying we could split something.” His gaze flicked back to you, warm and steady. “Figured you’d get tired of Gojo stealing food off your plate.”

You scoffed, tilting your head in mock consideration. “That’s… actually a really good point.”

Gojo gasped, pointing an accusatory chopstick at Geto. “I do not steal—”

Shoko snorted. “You ate half my gyoza last week.”

Gojo immediately turned to her, defensive. “You weren’t gonna finish them!”

“You didn’t ask.”

Geto chuckled, nudging the menu toward you. “So? What looks good?”

You skimmed the options, feeling the weight of Geto’s gaze. He wasn’t rushing you, wasn’t pushing, just waiting, watching, letting you make the decision. It was subtle, but it felt different from his usual teasing. More intentional.

Meanwhile, across the table, Gojo had gone suspiciously quiet.

He kept fidgeting with the plush you won him, his fingers idly squeezing its soft fabric. He tried to tell himself it wasn’t a big deal, so what if Geto was pulling out his smooth operator act? That’s just how he was. And it wasn’t like Gojo cared. Except… he kind of did.When the food finally arrived, the table filled with steaming bowls of ramen, plates of dumplings, and skewers of grilled meat. Gojo had ordered the biggest portion possible…partly out of habit, partly as some unspoken form of protest.

Geto slid the bowl of spicy miso ramen between the two of you. “You want the first bite?”

You shrugged. “I don’t mind—”

Before you could finish, Geto picked up a spoon, scooped up a bit of broth, and lifted it toward you

.

“Here. Try it.”

You blinked. Gojo blinked. Shoko, sipping her drink, raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“…Are you feeding me?” you asked, both amused and caught off guard.

Geto smirked. “Only if you want me to.”

Gojo’s chopsticks snapped in half.

You chuckled, shaking your head before taking the spoon from Geto yourself. “I can handle it, thanks.”

Geto leaned back, looking very pleased with himself. “Fair enough.”

Gojo, meanwhile, was gripping what was left of his broken chopsticks, staring down at his ramen like he was contemplating the meaning of life.

Shoko nudged him with her elbow. “You good?”

Gojo didn’t look up. “I’m fine.”

Shoko smirked. “Uh-huh.”

Gojo kept stirring his ramen. He wasn’t going to say anything because what was there to say? Geto wasn’t doing anything technically wrong. It was just his usual, effortless charm. The same charm that made people naturally gravitate toward him. But tonight, for some reason, it was getting under Gojo’s skin. He knew Geto knew how he played things, knew how easy it was for him to slip into that role. And Gojo had always been fine with that. They were best friends, partners in crime. But now? Now, watching Geto lean just a little closer, watching you smile and laugh without hesitation Gojo felt something simmering in his chest. A feeling he didn’t quite want to name.

Shoko nudged him again. “You sure? Because you’re either planning murder or having an existential crisis over there.”

Gojo exhaled, flopping dramatically against the booth. “I’m just thinking.”

Shoko’s smirk widened. “Thinking about what, exactly?”

Gojo scowled. “Nothing.”

She didn’t press, but she didn’t have to. They both knew exactly what he was thinking.

Across the table, you and Geto were still chatting, sharing your ramen without a second thought.

Gojo finally dropped his chopsticks with a dramatic sigh, flopping back against the booth. “Okay, enough about feeding each other. We get it. You guys have basic teamwork skills.”

Geto, completely unfazed, turned to him with a lazy grin. “You jealous, Satoru?”

Shoko bit back a laugh.

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Me? Jealous? Of you?” He let out a loud, exaggerated laugh before immediately turning to you. “Hey. You wanna try my ramen?”

You gave him a flat look. “Gojo, you got the most boring option on the menu.”

Gojo gasped. “Excuse me? Classic shoyu ramen is a timeless masterpiece.”

Geto chuckled, watching the exchange with amusement. “Yeah, nothing says excitement like a safe choice.”

Gojo pointed a dramatic finger at him. “I don’t need your judgment, Suguru.”

“Not jealous,” he muttered. “Just… not that hungry anymore.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.

You, however, nudged his arm lightly. “Gojo, you literally ordered the biggest bowl on the menu.”

He glanced at you, blue eyes flickering with something unreadable for a second before he shrugged. “Guess my appetite’s smaller than I thought.”

Lies.

Gojo always ate like he had a bottomless pit for a stomach. But tonight, the food tasted a little bland.

Geto leaned back in his seat, watching him carefully. He didn’t say anything, but the way his fingers tapped lightly against the table made it clear he noticed the shift.

For the rest of the meal, Gojo stayed a little quieter than usual, only half-listening as you and Geto talked. He didn’t make a fuss. Didn’t push the usual playful banter. But every now and then, his gaze would flicker toward Geto, then back to you. And for the first time in a long time, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, He was already too late.

Geto just smiled, relaxed and confident as ever. He didn’t need to gloat, Gojo was already riled up enough for the both of them.

Across the table, Shoko stretched her arms over her head, looking just about done with the two of them. “Alright, children. Eat your food before the shop kicks us out.”

Gojo grumbled under his breath before finally taking an actual bite of his ramen. But as he chewed, he glanced at Geto, then at you, and then back at Geto. He didn’t say anything. But in the back of his mind, he was already planning his next move.

——

The streets were quieter now, the distant hum of the city fading as the four of you made your way back to Jujutsu High. The crisp night air nipped at your skin, but the warmth of the ramen shop still clung to you, the scent of broth and grilled meat lingering in your clothes.

It should have been a perfect night. A rare one, even. Just the four of you, no missions, no training, no looming sense of responsibility. But despite the easy conversation and the comfortable rhythm of your walk, something felt… off. Or maybe different was the better word.

You weren’t sure when you started noticing it. Maybe it was back at the ramen shop, or maybe even earlier at the arcade, but the feeling had been creeping up on you all night, just subtle enough to ignore, until now.

Geto had always been smooth. Confident in a way that never felt overdone, just natural. He had a way of making things seem effortless, like he wasn’t even trying. But tonight, there was something pointed about it. The way he leaned in just a little closer, the way he found reasons to keep the conversation between just the two of you, the way his gaze lingered a second too long.

And then there was Gojo. Normally, he’d be the loudest one here, cracking jokes, making everything a competition, dragging all the attention toward himself like it was second nature. But tonight?

Tonight, he’d been different too.

Quieter. A little distant. He still teased, still complained, but there was something off about it. Like his heart wasn’t really in it.

You stole a glance back at him. He was trailing just a step behind, hands buried deep in his pockets, his usual long strides feeling slower, heavier. His shoulders were set, his jaw tight—like he was thinking too hard about something he didn’t want to say. It made something in your chest twist.

“Cold?”

You blinked, snapping out of your thoughts. Geto’s voice was low, even, pulling you back to the present.

“Huh?”

“It’s chilly,” he said, already shrugging off his jacket. “Here.”

“Oh, I’m fine—”

“Just take it.” His tone left little room for argument as he draped the jacket over your shoulders before you could protest, his fingers grazing lightly against your collarbone. Your breath hitched. Geto was always like this, thoughtful in a way that felt effortless, like he didn’t even have to think about it you try to rationalize to yourself.

“…Thanks,” you murmured, fingers instinctively curling around the fabric.

He smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kept walking beside you. His pace was steady, close but not too close, just enough that your arms brushed every now and then—not quite accidental, but not completely intentional either.

It was the kind of thing you probably wouldn’t have thought twice about—if it weren’t for the way Gojo had gone completely silent behind you.

You glanced back again.

Gojo’s expression was unreadable, his lips pressed into a thin line. He was still fidgeting with the plush keychain you’d won for him earlier, rolling it between his fingers, his grip just a little too tight. Something about the sight made your stomach sink.

“Shortcut?”

Shoko’s voice broke the tension, casual and lazy as she stretched her arms over her head.

Gojo barely hesitated. “Yeah, same.” His voice was flat.

You blinked. “Shortcut?”

Shoko gestured to a narrow side path. “Cuts the walk down. Bit of an uphill climb, but faster.”

“But it sucks,” Geto pointed out, unimpressed. “Too steep.”

She shrugged. “Worth it.” Then she turned to you and Geto, smirking. “Guess you two are taking the scenic route, huh?”

Your face immediately went warm. “That’s not—”

“Later,” she cut you off with a lazy wave, already tugging Gojo along.

You barely caught a glimpse of his face before he turned away. But for a second. Just a second. his eyes flickered toward you, something unreadable behind them. Like he wanted to say something. But he didn’t.

Instead, he let himself be pulled along, following Shoko without another word. Just the Two of You. The silence left in their absence felt heavier than it should have.

“Guess it’s just us,” Geto said lightly, casting a glance at you.

You huffed, still flustered. “Shoko says stuff just to mess with people, you know.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah. But… she’s usually not wrong.”

Your stomach did a weird little flip.

“What?” you blurted out, a little too quick.

Geto didn’t answer right away. He just smiled to himself, looking ahead like he knew something you didn’t. Your thoughts tangled together, a mess of contradictions. Gojo had been off tonight. And Geto was acting just different enough that you couldn’t ignore it.

It made something in your chest tighten. They were your friends. You weren’t supposed to overthink things like this. But something was changing. And you didn’t know how to feel about it.

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps filled the silence between you. The campus was still a ways off, the path stretching ahead of you under the glow of streetlights. “…Did you have fun tonight?” Geto’s voice was softer now, lacking his usual teasing edge.

You hesitated. “…Yeah. Did you?”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you. “More than I expected to.”

There was something about the way he said it that made your pulse jump.

You looked away, focusing on the ground ahead of you. “…You want this back?” you asked, shifting under the weight of his jacket.

He shook his head easily. “Nah. Looks better on you.”

Your face felt warm despite the cool air.

“So,” Geto broke the quiet, hands still stuffed in his pockets. “You really gonna make me carry this whole conversation by myself?”

You shot him a look. “You’re the one who insists on talking all the time.”

He grinned. “Well, yeah. Someone’s gotta keep things interesting.”

You scoffed. “Oh, right. Because I’m just so boring.”

“Didn’t say that.” His tone was teasing, but his gaze flickered over to you with something unreadable. “Just quiet.”

You huffed. “I can be fun.”

“Oh?” He raised a brow, intrigued. “Prove it.”

You squinted at him. “What, you want me to juggle or something?”

“That’d be a start.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Fine. Uh… okay, did I ever tell you about the time I completely humiliated myself in front of Mei Mei?”

His eyes lit up. “No, but I already know this is gonna be good.”

You groaned, shaking your head. “It was awful. I was helping her carry some stuff, right? Trying to be useful. But I tripped on absolutely nothing, flailed like a total idiot, and somehow managed to launch her entire stack of training manuals across the courtyard.”

Geto let out a loud laugh. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse. Instead of, I don’t know, getting up with some dignity, I just laid there for a second. Mei Mei didn’t even say anything, she just stared at me like she was trying to figure out if I was a lost cause.”

“That sounds like her.”

“I still don’t know if she was more disappointed or just impressed by how thoroughly I managed to embarrass myself.”

Geto was still grinning. “That’s beautiful. I wish I’d been there.”

“See? I am fun,” you said triumphantly.

He hummed, tilting his head in consideration. “I don’t know. That sounds less like ‘fun’ and more like ‘chronic bad luck.’”

You smacked his arm. “Oh, shut up.”

He just laughed, rubbing the spot like you’d actually hurt him. “Okay, okay. You win. You’re fun.”

“Damn right I am.”

You were both smiling now, the warmth of the moment making the chilly night air feel insignificant.

“…You should laugh more,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter.

You blinked at him. “Huh?”

He shrugged, looking ahead. “Just saying. It suits you.”

Your stomach flipped again, but this time, you didn’t push the feeling away.

Instead, you just shook your head with a soft chuckle. “You really don’t know when to stop, do you?”

“Not a chance.” He flashed you a grin, his steps falling just a little closer to yours.

The rest of the walk was quiet, but not uncomfortable. Just charged in a way you weren’t used to.

By the time you reached the school gates, your thoughts were a mess.

The weight of Geto’s jacket still lingered on your shoulders.

somewhere in the back of your mind, Gojo’s silence stuck with you in a way you didn’t quite understand.Something was changing and you had no idea what to do about it.

The school grounds were quiet at this hour, the faint hum of the cicadas in the trees the only sound filling the night air. Most of the students had long since gone to sleep, the dorms dark and still, but you and Geto lingered by the entrance, neither of you quite ready to part ways just yet.

You shifted the jacket draped over your shoulders, acutely aware of its warmth, of the faint scent of Geto’s cologne still clinging to the fabric.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Geto’s voice broke the silence, amused.

You blinked, glancing at him. “Huh?”

He smirked. “You get this little crease in your brow when you’re overthinking something.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “I do not.”

“You do,” he insisted, tapping a finger to your forehead in demonstration. “Right here. Deep in thought. Probably overanalyzing everything that happened tonight.”

Your stomach flipped.

You were overthinking it. Overthinking him. Overthinking Gojo, and the weird tension that had lingered between the three of you all night. Geto must have noticed the way your expression shifted, because his smirk softened.

“…You good?” he asked, quieter now.

You hesitated.

You could play it off, pretend everything was fine. But part of you, maybe the part still rattled by the way tonight felt different, didn’t want to.

“…Do you think Gojo’s mad at me?” The words slipped out before you could second guess

them. Geto’s expression didn’t change, but you noticed the way his fingers twitched at his sides.

“No,” he said simply.

You frowned. “Then why was he acting so weird?”

Geto exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. “You’ll have to ask him that yourself.”

You huffed. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one I can give you,” Geto said, looking at you now, gaze steady. “Whatever’s going on with Gojo, it’s not my place to say.”

That definitely meant something.

You stared at him, searching for some kind of hint, but Geto just smiled, unreadable as ever.

Before you could press further, a voice cut through the quiet.

“You guys are still out here?”

You turned, and there he was Gojo, standing a few feet away, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform. He must have circled back at some point, because Shoko was nowhere to be seen.

For a split second, his gaze flickered to the jacket on your shoulders. His fingers tightened around the plush keychain in his hand.

“…You took a while ?” he asked, voice light, but there was something off about it.

You swallowed. “Uh. No. We just walked and talked.”

Gojo nodded, like that answer was expected, but the sharp edge in his expression didn’t ease.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” you said, attempting to ignore the strange tension between the three of you.

Gojo just shrugged, rocking back on his heels. “Yeah, well. I was gonna be real mad if you got kidnapped before I had the chance to make fun of you tomorrow.”

You rolled your eyes. “Touching.”

But there was something about the way he said it that made your chest feel tight.

The three of you stood there for a moment, the silence thick between you and then Geto, ever the smooth one, clapped his hands together. “Well. It’s late,” he said easily. “We should probably get inside before Yaga yells at us.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted.

Gojo said nothing. Geto turned toward the dorms, his stride unhurried. But just before he walked past Gojo, he slowed just enough to murmur something under his breath.

You didn’t catch it. But whatever it was made Gojo’s jaw tighten. You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. You could feel whatever was happening here, unspoken and heavy, and it made something in you twist.

“…Night,” you said finally, the weight of the day settling over you.

Geto smiled, easy and warm. “Night.”

Gojo just nodded, but his usual smirk was nowhere to be found. You weren’t sure what to make of that. As you finally turned to head inside, the weight of Geto’s jacket still on your shoulders, you had the distinct feeling that tonight had changed something.

.

.

Geto: I like your laugh😽

You: Chat is this rizz !?!

Geto: you just ruined it

Geto: we were having a moment

You: Chat am I cooked?

Geto: WHO ARE YOU TALKING TOO RIGHT NOW

You: chat clip that

.

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

.

Gojo: can i try rizzing you up

You: sure

Gojo : PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

.

Taglist: @inthedarkshadows000

Reply to the masterlist if you want to be added to the taglist!!!!!

⋆˚✿˖° ❝𝗜𝘁 𝗙𝗲𝗲𝗹𝘀 𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗱𝗲𝗱❞ ⋆˚✿˖°

Unintended study breaks

────୨ৎ────

Gojo Satoru X Reader

Geto Suguru X Reader

────୨ৎ────

Synopsis: In a world of curses and power struggles take center stage, you’ve always kept to the simple aspects of life. Focussing on your studies, your friendships and life in the dorms. Though everything changes when Geto challenges Gojo that he can’t win your heart and what happens when Geto realizes that Gojo needs to lose.

WORD COUNT: 4K +words bc i forgot

₍^. .^₎⟆ The second year Jujutsu students myself, Gojo, Geto, Shoko, and a beautiful cute underclass Utahime were gathered in the common area, theoretically doing homework. In reality, we were doing everything but homework.

Gojo, lying upside down on the couch with his legs over the backrest, was dramatically tossing popcorn into the air and trying to catch it with his mouth. He had a zero percent success rate, but he never gave up. Shoko was sprawled across the floor, using a pile of textbooks as a pillow, idly flicking through a medical journal like it was a fashion magazine. Geto was sitting properly at the table, actually doing his homework like a responsible human being, while Utahime sat beside him, aggressively erasing something from her worksheet with the energy of someone who hated their life choices.

I was sandwiched between Gojo and the armrest, trying to copy Geto’s notes with out it being to obvious.

“Pfft bro.” Gojo suddenly sat up (well, tried to he mostly just flopped onto me). “Geto, your handwriting looks like it belongs on some ancient cursed scroll. You a reincarnated sorcerer or something?”

“It’s called cursive, Satoru.” Geto didn’t even look up.

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Oh my god. My best friend is cursed? This is a betrayal of the highest order.”

“Cursed technique: calligraphy,” I added solemnly, earning a chuckle from Geto and an eyeroll from Utahime.

“You guys are so dumb,” Utahime muttered, rubbing her temples.

Gojo gasped again, louder this time. “Did you hear that? She called us dumb!” He clutched his chest like he’d been shot.

“You are dumb,” Shoko said lazily from the floor, not even looking up.

“That’s different! You’re mean in a fun way.”

Utahime threw her eraser at him. It bounced off his Infinity and hit me instead.

“Ow!” I yelped. “I’m just a civilian in this battle!”

Gojo gave me a very serious pat on the head. “Casualties of war, my friend.”

I shoved him off the couch. He landed with a loud oof, but it was impossible to tell if it was real or exaggerated for dramatic effect. Probably the latter. There were very few that he turned his infinity off for.

“That’s it, I’m calling Yaga,” Utahime announced, standing up.

“Oh no, whatever shall we do?” Gojo deadpanned from the floor, not moving an inch.

“Utahime, sit down. You know you’re not actually gonna snitch,” Shoko said, flipping a page.

Utahime hesitated… then sighed heavily and sat back down. “I hate all of you.” Then turns toward you and shoko “oh except you both, you guys can of no wrong ever… except fraternize with the enemy”

“Aww, we love you too,” Geto said with a grin.

“No, you don’t.”

The room fell into a brief moment of peace. I was about to actually focus on my homework when a sudden SMACK!

A popcorn kernel hit Utahime square on the forehead.

Silence.

Slowly, she turned her head toward Gojo, who was whistling innocently, hands behind his head.

“…You’re dead.”

I barely had time to grab my notebook before she lunged at him, and the entire common room erupted into .

Utahime lunged at Gojo with all the fury of a woman who had had enough. Gojo, being Gojo, simply leaned back, letting Infinity do its thing. Utahime’s hands stopped midair, frozen inches from his stupid, smug face.

“Oh nooo, I’m so scared,” Gojo said flatly, grinning ear to ear.

Utahime clenched her fists. “Turn it off. Right now.”

“Nah.”

“Gojo, I swear to-”

“Ah-ah-ah,” Gojo interrupted, wagging a finger. “No swearing, Utahime. You’re a role model.”

“I will end your bloodline.”

“You’d have to get through my Infinity first.”

Utahime looked about this close to grabbing a chair and throwing it at him, which, honestly, would have been hilarious, so I was rooting for her. Unfortunately, Geto always the peacemaker decided to intervene.

“Alright, enough. Gojo, stop being a menace,” Geto said, not even looking up from his notes.

Gojo placed a dramatic hand on his chest. “Me? A menace? Suguru, how could you say that?”

“Easily.”

“Cold. Ice cold.” Gojo turned to me and Shoko, looking for support. “Did you hear that? He doesn’t even hesitate to slander me!”

“I mean,” I said, flipping a page in my book, “you did start it.”

Shoko nodded. “Yeah, and I’m pretty sure you deserve it.”

Gojo gasped. “Et tu, Brute?!”

“Okay, first of all,” I said, setting my pen down, “don’t act like you read Julius Caesar.”

“I’ve read some books,” Gojo huffed.

“Manga doesn’t count,” Geto said.

“I WASN’T GONNA SAY MANGA.”

We all just looked at him.

“…Okay, fine, I was, but still!”

At this point, Utahime had accepted that violence wouldn’t work and decided to settle for a verbal attack instead. “This is why you don’t have a girlfriend.”

The room went silent.

“OH MY GOD.” Gojo reeled back like she’d stabbed him in the heart. “I can’t believe you’d say something so cruel!”

“Well, am I wrong?”

Gojo dramatically fell onto the couch, clutching his forehead like he was about to faint. “I’m young! I have my whole life ahead of me! Besides, love is a distraction”

“More like nobody can tolerate you,” Utahime muttered.

“EXCUSE ME?”

I leaned toward Shoko. “How long do you think this will last?”

Shoko yawned. “Until Yaga finds us or Gojo runs out of stupid things to say.”

“So if it’s the latter… never?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

Gojo and Utahime were still in a heated debate about his supposed “overwhelming rizz” versus her “chronic bad taste in men.” Meanwhile, I was hunched over the table from the couch, desperately trying to copy Geto’s notes without getting caught.

“Y’know,” Geto said without looking up, “if you actually studied, you wouldn’t have to steal my notes.”

“I do study,” I whispered back with a glare. “I just study better when the answers are already written down.”

Geto chuckled, twirling his pen. “Uh huh. And how’s that strategy working for you?”

“Well, I haven’t failed out yet.”

“Yet.”

I squinted at him. “Are you rooting against me?”

“Of course not,” he said smoothly. “I’m just saying, if you need help, you could always ask.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Would you actually help, though? Or would you just lecture me about proper study habits?”

Geto smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Before I could argue, Utahime’s voice cut through our conversation.

“At least I don’t actively repel women like a cursed technique,” she snapped at Gojo.

Gojo gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. “What is wrong with you? Why would you say something so hurtful?”

“Because it’s true,” Utahime said.

I turned to Geto, lowering my voice. “Is it bad that I kind of want to see how this ends?”

Geto smirked. “I’d be more surprised if you didn’t.”

Shoko, who had been lying on the floor the entire time, finally sat up and looked at Gojo. “Didn’t you try flirting with a girl last week, and she walked away before you even finished your sentence?”

Gojo pointed at her, looking betrayed. “That was because she was in a hurry!”

Geto and I exchanged a look.

“She was speed walking like she was being chased by a curse,” I said.

“She practically teleported out of there,” Geto added.

Gojo groaned, throwing himself onto the couch. “You guys suck.”

“Not as bad as your game,” Utahime muttered.

Before Gojo could launch a counterattack, the door suddenly slid open. Yaga stood in the doorway, looking like he had already lost the will to deal with us. His eyes scanned the mess popcorn on the floor, a couch war, me mid cheating…., and Shoko still lying down like a corpse.

Nobody moved. Nobody breathed.

“I don’t even want to know,” Yaga muttered.

“Great!” Gojo said immediately. “Then we don’t have to explain!”

Yaga exhaled through his nose. “Just clean this place up.”

“Yes, sir,” I said quickly, trying to look as innocent as possible.

He gave us one last look a “I regret everything look” before leaving. The second the door shut, everyone exhaled in relief.

“That was a close one,” I muttered, stretching my arms.

“For you guys,” Utahime huffed. “He probably blames me for not keeping you idiots in line.”

“You could fun away and report gojo. Maybe there might be some balance for once” Geto suggested.

“I should,” she muttered, not realizing the diss thrown at her. “But then I’d have to listen to him whine about it for weeks.”

Gojo sat up, grinning. “You know me so well.”

“That wasn’t a compliment.”

Gojo turned to me, grinning. “Speaking of whining”

I blinked. “I’m sorry?”

He narrowed his eyes. “You’ve been copying Geto’s notes this whole time, haven’t you?”

“Uh.” I quickly slapped my notebook shut. “No?”

Geto smirked, resting his chin on his hand. “You totally have.”

“Et tu, Suguru?” I gasped, mocking Gojo from earlier.

“You did steal my notes,” Geto said. “I’m just stating facts.”

Gojo scoffed. “You should’ve copied my notes.”

Utahime snorted. “Like you have anything worth copying.”

“Excuse you, I am a genius,” Gojo said, flipping his nonexistent long hair.

Shoko held up a test paper. “Dude, you got a 42 on the last history quiz.”

Gojo waved a hand. “Pfft, history is for nerds.”

“You’re literally failing.”

“Okay, but in my defense”

“No,” Geto and I said at the same time.

Gojo gasped dramatically. “Wow. No faith in me. I am shattered.”

“Good. Stay that way,” Utahime said, picking up her notes.

I turned to Geto. “Do you think if we actually ignored him for long enough, he’d just disappear?”

Geto chuckled. “Doubtful. He’d probably just start singing for attention.”

“First of all, rude,” Gojo said. “Second of all-”

He started humming loudly, off-key, and obnoxious.

“Shoko,” I deadpanned, “do you still have that chloroform from your medical kit?”

Shoko sighed. “Sadly, I used it all.”

And just like that, our study session once again devolved into . Gojo, of course, took zero hints and continued humming except now, he had started tapping his pen against the table like some kind of makeshift drum.

I turned to Geto. “If we don’t stop him now, this will escalate into full-blown karaoke.”

Geto sighed, flipping a page in his book. “I know.”

“I can feel him about to start beatboxing.”

“You underestimate me,” Gojo said, pointing at me with his pen. “I was gonna freestyle.”

“Oh my God,” Utahime muttered.

“Yo check it ” Gojo slapped the table like a DJ soundboard. “Name’s Gojo Satoru, and I’m here to say”

“No,” Geto and I both said at the same time.

Gojo ignored us. “I’m the strongest sorcerer in every way”

“Shoko,” I cut in. “Is there really nothing in your med kit strong enough to knock him out?”

Shoko, who was sipping from a juice box like she had long since given up, shook her head. “Nah. We’d need industrial grade sedatives.”

I groaned. “We were so close.”

Geto sighed, rubbing his temple. “Alright, let’s get this over with.” He reached out, grabbed the eraser I had totally been using for notes, and casually chucked it at Gojo’s forehead.

It bounced off with a soft thud.

Gojo immediately stopped rapping. He blinked, processing what had just happened.

“Did you just throw an eraser at me?”

“Yes,” Geto said, already turning back to his book. “And I’ll do it again.”

Gojo looked at me. “Did you see that?”

“I did.”

“And you’re just okay with this?”

“I actively support it.”

“Wow. No loyalty. You wound me.”

“You’ll live,” I said.

“I could die from heartbreak, you know.”

I stared at him. “That would be the dumbest cause of death I’ve ever heard.”

“It happens to dogs all the time”

“You’d be a moron,” Utahime corrected.

Gojo ignored her, turning back to me with his signature grin. “Y’know, if you wanted my attention that badly, you could’ve just asked instead of teaming up with Geto to attack me.”

I deadpanned. “You were the one freestyling about yourself unprovoked.”

“Because you inspire me,” he shot back, winking.

I stared at him. “Did you just try to spin that into flirting?”

Gojo leaned in slightly. “Is it working?”

Geto flicked another eraser at him. “No.”

Gojo yelped, dodging this time. “HEY—”

“Well,then ” Gojo said cheerfully, “we should probably get back to studying.”

“You’re the reason we’re in trouble,” Utahime snapped.

I sighed, finally opening my textbook for real. “Okay. Fine. Studying. Let’s go.”

Gojo turned to me, grinning. “You wanna sit next to me?”

“No.”

“Cold.”

Geto smirked, nudging me. “He’s gonna be annoying until you agree, you know.”

“I know,” I muttered.

And just like that, our study session actually started.

Then Gojo got bored again.

For about five minutes, there was actual, real silence.

I was finally getting through the first few pages of my textbook. Utahime was scribbling notes, muttering to herself. Shoko had somehow managed to study while still lying on the floor. Geto was flipping through his book, and Gojo.

Wait.

I slowly looked up from my textbook. Gojo was quiet. Too quiet. I glanced at Geto, who immediately caught my look. He sighed, barely tilting his head toward Gojo. Check on him.

I turned.

Gojo was sitting next to me, pretending to read, but his page hadn’t changed in five minutes. His pen was in his mouth. And he was staring directly at me.

I blinked. “…What?”

Gojo grinned. “Nothing.”

I squinted. “Then why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just like looking at you.”

Utahime immediately gagged. “Oh my God.”

Geto coughed, very obviously covering a laugh.

Shoko, still on the floor, just sipped her juice box.

I groaned, rubbing my face. “Gojo-”

“Satoru,” he corrected. “We’re close enough for first names, aren’t we?”

I stared at him. “No.” ironically enough you call him satoru everyday but in solidarity for utahime you had too.

Gojo dramatically gasped. “After everything we’ve been through?”

“What have we been through?” I asked flatly.

Utahime sighed. “Can we please just study?”

Gojo leaned toward me, resting his chin on his hand. “I would if I had some motivation, y’know?”

“Your motivation is not failing,” Geto said.

Gojo ignored him. “Maybe if someone gave me a little reward for my hard work—”

I grabbed an eraser and shoved it into his mouth.

“Mmfh—!” Gojo spit it out, coughing. “You just fed me rubber!”

“Oops.” I smiled. “My hand slipped.”

Gojo wiped his tongue with his sleeve, pouting. “I hope you know you just kissed me indirectly.”

I stared at him. “Gojo, I will throw you out of this room. Thats not even now that works. It just touched my hand”

Gojo wiggled his eyebrows. “You want to be alone with me that badly?”

Utahime immediately launched her pen at his head.

Gojo ducked, laughing. “Hey! Violence isn’t the answer”

“I swear to God”

The door slammed open again.

Everyone froze.

Yaga stood in the doorway. Again.

His eye twitched.

Utahime immediately pointed at Gojo. “IT WAS HIM.”

Yaga slowly inhaled. Exhaled. “I don’t care. I don’t care. But if you all don’t shut up and actually study” His voice dropped. “You will be running laps until the sun rises.”

Utahime, Geto, and I immediately sat up straight.

“Yes, sir,” we all said in unison.

Yaga shut the door.

Silence.

Then, Gojo leaned toward me and whispered, “Wanna fake an injury to get out of this?”

I grabbed another eraser.

Gojo yelped.

And the study session continued.

—————

the common room had mostly cleared out. Utahime had stormed off first, muttering about how she was never studying with idiots again a bold faced lie, considering she always came back, no matter how much she complained. Then, you had left, still grumbling about not finishing copying Geto’s notes.

Which left just Gojo, Geto, and Shoko in the now technically cleaner, but still slightly chaotic, common room. The table was strewn with abandoned papers, a couple of open textbooks, and a suspiciously high number of empty juice boxes thanks to Shoko’s seemingly endless supply.

Gojo groaned as he flopped onto the couch like he had just fought a life or death battle, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Man, I really gave it my all in there.”

Geto, who hadn’t moved from his spot at the table, barely glanced up from his book. He was always the responsible one, making sure at least one of them actually retained knowledge from these sessions. “You didn’t study at all.”

Gojo peeked out from under his arm with a lazy grin. “I tried, Suguru. I really did.”

Not entirely true. He had opened his book once. That should count for something.

“But some things just aren’t meant to be,” he added with a dramatic sigh.

Shoko, still lounging on the floor with her back against the couch, snorted. “Like your academic success?”

Gojo gasped, lifting his arm to dramatically clutch his chest. “Shoko, watch yourself!”

She just shrugged, casually sipping from yet another juice box.

Geto finally closed his book with a sigh, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “So. Are we gonna talk about how you spent the entire session shamelessly flirting?”

Gojo froze for half a second. Then, as if that half second of hesitation hadn’t existed, he stretched lazily, playing it cool. “Ah. You noticed.”

Geto gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “It was painfully obvious.”

Shoko smirked. “Yeah. You’re about as subtle as a slap to the face.”

Gojo waved a hand like their words meant nothing to him. Even though, yeah, maybe he had been laying it on a little thick. But it wasn’t his fault you were fun to tease. That was on you. No matter now much he tries, you never seem to realize it.

He rolled onto his side, resting his cheek against the couch cushion. “You guys don’t get it. It’s called natural charm.”

Shoko raised her juice box. “So you should probably develop some.”

Gojo shot up, pointing at her. “you’re on thin ice lady”

Geto leaned back in his chair, watching him with a knowing look. “So what’s your plan, exactly?”

Gojo blinked. “Plan?”

Geto smirked, his fingers tapping idly against the table. “You do have a plan, right?”

Gojo squinted at him. “…a plan for?”

Shoko hummed. “I think he’s asking if you actually like her or if you just enjoy being annoying.”

Gojo opened his mouth then promptly shut it. Because that? That was a trap question. A dangerous, loaded question. He glanced at Geto, who was watching him too closely, like he was waiting for a specific answer. Gojo didn’t like that.

So he did what he did best. He deflected.

“Look, does it really matter?” He grinned, leaning back against the armrest. “We’re both having mindless fun”

Geto chuckled, his smirk deepening. “You sound like an ass.”

Gojo smirked right back. “It’s how we bond”

Geto tilted his head slightly, studying him. “Then let’s bet on it.”

Gojo hesitated for half a second. See, here was the thing: Geto never made a bet unless he was certain he’d win.

“…I’m listening.”

“If you actually manage to get a date with her” Geto said smoothly, “I’ll do all your homework for two weeks.”

Gojo sat up immediately. “Two weeks?”

That was so much homework.

“Two weeks,” Geto confirmed, still smirking.

Gojo narrowed his eyes. “…And if I don’t?”

Shoko, who had been waiting for the perfect moment, finally chimed in. “Then you start taking school seriously and stop pursuing her”

Gojo froze.

That? That was a nightmare scenario.

He looked at Geto again, and oh.

Oh.

That was definitely a smug look.

Gojo knew exactly what that meant.

“…Wait a second,” he said slowly. “why are you betting against me?”

Geto shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. “I just think you might overestimate your charm.”

“Ohhh, bullshit,” Gojo said immediately, pointing at him. “You wouldn’t be making this bet if you didn’t think I’d win.”

Geto didn’t even try to deny it. “I guess you’ll just have to prove me wrong.”

Shoko snorted. “That’s not happening.”

Gojo scowled. “Okay, why are you so confident?”

Shoko smirked. “i’m on a Y/n fan page so I just want to see happens.”

Geto leaned back in his chair, looking a little too smug for Gojo’s liking. “You don’t exactly have the best track record with romance, Satoru.”

Gojo scoffed. “Okay, first of all, yes I do.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t a girl walk away mid sentence last time you tried flirting?”

Gojo crossed his arms. “She was in a hurry.”

“She ran,” Geto corrected, grinning.

“She had places to be!”

Geto just kept smirking.

And that was when Gojo really put the pieces together.

“…Wait a minute,” Gojo said slowly. “You want me to fail.”

Geto didn’t react. Which meant Gojo was definitely right.

Gojo’s grin widened. “You like her, don’t you?”

Geto finally sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “…And there it is.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow at Geto. “oh! this is some plot i didn’t even see coming.” yes she did, but it’s her fault for being friends with idiots.

Gojo pointed dramatically. “You do!”

Geto still didn’t deny it. He just exhaled, standing up. “Are you taking the bet or not?”

Gojo stared at him for a second longer.

Then he smirked.

“Oh, I’m definitely taking it.” He held out a hand. “let’s say a month”

Geto took his hand, shaking it firmly. “a month.”

Shoko just shook her head, standing up as well. “You two are dumb.”

Gojo flopped back onto the couch, grinning. “Maybe.” He turned to Geto. “But I’m the one who’s gonna win.”

Geto just smirked. “We’ll see.”

And just like that, the bet was on.

—

The moment Geto and Shoko left, Gojo stayed where he was on the couch, staring at the ceiling. His legs were sprawled out, one arm draped over his stomach, the other dangling off the side, fingers lightly tapping against the floor. The room was eerily quiet now, aside from the faint hum of the overhead lights and the occasional rustling of papers left behind on the table.

Then it hit him.

“Those bastards left me with the mess.”

He groaned, tilting his head to glare at the table. Textbooks sat half open, notes scattered across the surface, empty juice boxes piled on top of one another in a sad little mountain. Crumpled up papers littered the floor, evidence of Shoko’s inability to toss things into the trash from a distance.

Sighing, he let his head fall back onto the couch. He’d deal with it later. Maybe. Probably.

Right now, he had bigger things to think about.

Like the fact that he had two weeks to get a date.

Two. Whole. Weeks.

That should be plenty of time. He was Gojo Satoru, after all. He was charming. People liked him. He could pull this off.

…Right?

He exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face.

He didn’t usually think about this kind of thing too much. Flirting with you had always been easy. It was just something he did, a joke, a game, a way to pass the time. At least, that’s what he’d always told himself.

But now? With an actual bet on the line?

It felt… different.

Because if he actually tried, if he really put in effort and you still didn’t like him back

Gojo sat up abruptly. Nope. Not going there. Not thinking about that.

Instead, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and immediately typed into the search bar.

How to make someone like you.

A flood of articles popped up.

• 10 Psychological Tricks to Make Anyone Fall for You!

• Signs Your Crush Might Like You Back!

• Why Are You Googling This? Just Be Yourself, Dude.

Gojo frowned at that last one. Rude.

Clicking on the first link, he skimmed the list:

1. Mirroring their movements to build subconscious trust

2. Prolonged eye contact

3. Casual physical touch

4. Making them laugh

5. Using their name often

Gojo read through it once. Then again. His stomach twisted. Because… he already did most of this. And yet. You hadn’t fallen for him.

Was that why Geto had looked so smug earlier? Because he knew? Knew that Gojo had been trying, even if he hadn’t admitted it? Knew that it hadn’t worked? Gojo groaned, flopping back onto the couch dramatically, one arm slung over his face.

This was stupid. This was so stupid. He shouldn’t care this much. It was just a bet. He was just messing around. …Except he wasn’t. Not really.

Because if he lost, if this went wrong it wouldn’t just be a bruised ego.

It’d be proof.

Proof that maybe you really didn’t see him that way. That maybe you never would and that? That was worse than any stupid bet. Gojo exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair before opening his notes app.

The Gojo Satoru Foolproof Love Plan™ (That Hopefully Works and Doesn’t End in Humiliation)

1. Mirroring movements (Subtle. Act natural. Don’t be weird.)

2. Eye contact (Not too much though. Don’t be creepy.)

3. Casual touches (Hand on shoulder? Ruffling hair? Is that too much? I don’t know.)

4. Make them laugh (I can do that. I do that.)

5. Say their name more (But not in a weird way.)

6. Grand romantic gesture??? (Only if desperate.)

He hesitated, then added:

7. Don’t mess this up.

Gojo stared at the list for a long moment.

Then he shut his phone off and leaned back against the couch, pressing his palms into his eyes. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he should just drop it. Forget the bet. Move on.…But he knew he wouldn’t.

Because if there was even the smallest chance that this worked. If there was even the smallest chance that you might actually like him back. Then he had to try.

Tomorrow, he thought. Tomorrow I’ll start. And maybe, just maybe this wouldn’t be a complete disaster.