Sypnosis - A mysterious girl appears at the entrance of Jujutsu Technical High School -- not speaking a lick of English and not understanding where she is. She isn't human...but that gets you wondering...what is she?
Pairing(s) - ! ALL PLATONIC ! Satoru Gojo x Reader, Suguru Geto x Reader, Shoko Ieri x Reader
Warning(s) - mature themes, canon JJK violence, gore, child death, angsty ending (I'm sorry gang)
Word Count - 10.4k
A/N - Randomly got an idea to write a fic where the Reader was a curse. I hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Darkness.
For as long as you could remember, the only sight seen by your eyes was an overarching darkness that seemed to stretch on forever — never once giving any indication that there may be some kind of light at the end of the otherwise never ending tunnel.
And to you, that was okay. The darkness became your friend over time, enveloping you in a cocoon of safety that could not be replicated by anything. It held your hands and guided you, watching silently as you grew and developed until a time where you could be used — until a time where you would be useful to the world of curses.
But like many things, your darkness eventually found its end, creating an opening that allowed light to pour in and the warmth of the sun to touch your skin with gentle hands. Confused, you folded your fingers into the hand that the light offers you, and with squinted eyes you look around.
Where am I?
Your head turns, blinking a few times to adjust to the overwhelming light that only seems to brighten each time that your eyelids flutter open. Slowly, you turn in a circle on the heels of your feet, suddenly aware of the unfamiliar sensation that lies beneath the skin of your feet.
You glance down, tilting your head curiously at the uneven stones beneath you. Curiously, you bend your knees, lowering your palms to the ground and laying it flat against the stone, shocked to feel heat emanating back onto the skin of your palm.
What are you doing?
You stand up straight, ears perked as you attempt to locate the source of the voice who had addressed you. Oddly enough, you stand completely alone in the stone pathway, surrounded only by unmoving trees and bright green grass. You open your mouth, trying to will any kind of sound to leave your parted lips, but you remain silent.
You press your lips back together in a firm line, narrowing your eyes and once again lowering yourself to the ground, this time taking a seat in the center of the stone pathway. Above you is a maroon-colored arch, one that is hanging over a set of stairs that lead somewhere — but you’re not entirely sure just where it leads to.
Are you comfortable?
You nod happily, laying both of your palms against the warm stones and spreading out your fingers, feeling smaller pebbles being caught within the lines of your skin. Your eyes wander up your arm, noticing the small stitches that hold the various parts of you together.
The scars don’t horribly disfigure you, not like the other curses that you could recall seeing in the depths of your memories. They turned out more inhuman than you, you were one of the lucky who was made to pass as human — only discoverable by eyes that shined like the prettiest aquamarine stones. You believe it was called Six Eyes.
You lift one of your hands off of the stones, suddenly aware of just how hot it had felt against your skin. You shake your hand, forming an ‘o’ with your lips and blowing on the palm of your hand, shocked to feel an opposite sensation. It wasn’t warm, but at the same time it wasn’t completely cold. But it was cold enough to relieve the burn on your skin — and it’s then that you notice the pattern left behind by the stones.
“C’mon Suguru, I’m sure he won’t mind if we take our time with this one.”
You turn your head at the sound of another’s voice, tilting it curiously as you watch two figures appear at the top of the steps. Both are tall and wear the same kind of clothing, yet they also wear completely different styles. One of the figures — this one with bright white hair — wears his clothes tight, accentuating his otherwise lanky figure. The other figure — this one with longer, darker hair — wears his clothes baggy, with parachute pants that make his legs look larger than they most likely are.
You wonder which one of them is supposedly ‘Suguru’.
Careful now, remember the eyes.
You nod your head, pushing yourself to your feet with the help of your hands. You lift your head to peer up the stairs, noticing how both of the figures had stopped walking and are peering at you with the same curiosity as yourself.
“Hey! What’re you doing down there?” It’s the white-haired figure that calls out to you, his covered eyes no doubt focused on you. The dark-haired figure is silent, watching you with a wordless curiosity. Opposites.
You part your lips to speak again, feeling an uncomfortable vibration in the base of your throat. You quickly snap your jaw shut again, rubbing your fingers against the skin of your throat and wincing — that had been oddly painful. But at the same time, it only spurred on your curiosity. Why could the two figures make sounds with their mouths and you couldn’t?
“Hey!” the white-haired figure calls out again, this time lifting his arm and waving down at you. You mimic him, lifting your arm and waving back at him. Confused, the white-haired figure turns to the dark-haired figure at his side, nudging him before beginning to descend the steps.
You wait patiently for both figures to approach you, but even when they do, they stand a healthy distance away from you — likely because of the discolored scars that litter your body, holding you together like a freshly stitched doll.
An uncomfortable silence hangs over the three of you, only broken by the dark-haired figure clearing his throat and speaking to you, “What are you doing down here?”
You try for the third time to do what the dark-haired figure is doing — making sounds with his mouth. But the moment that you try, a strangled cough falls from you instead. With both palms, you cover your mouth, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as the figures exchange a look with one another.
“What’s up with you?” the white-haired figure asks, tilting his head at you. You pout, jutting out your bottom lip and crossing your arms over your chest, disappointed that you couldn’t articulate yourself in the same way that both of the figures could.
The dark-haired figure is more sympathetic towards you, smacking a hand into the chest of the white-haired figure and shooting him a pointed glare. He turns back to you after a moment, his eyes softening as he gestures with his head towards you.
"You can't speak?"
You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows to create an expression that is a mixture between frustration and sadness. The dark-haired figure nods understandingly, humming to himself. You mimic him, humming as well.
The white-haired figure glances between you and the dark-haired figure, then letting out a dramatic sigh and throwing an arm over the shoulders of the figure standing beside him, still glaring at you through his sunglasses as if you were a roadblock to him – and in a way, you were.
"Come on Suguru, this is pointless. Let's just--"
"Shut up Satoru."
Suguru. He's the one with the dark hair.
Satoru. He's the one with the white hair.
Opposites.
You tilt your head curiously at them, listening as they bicker with one another. How Suguru tries to patient with both you and Satoru and how Satoru only continues to act like a spoiled child. Your eyes continue to flicker between each of the two as they speak, taking mental notes of the difference in their tones, postures, and facial expressions.
Suguru then turns to you again, having effectively shut Satoru up. You find yourself smiling at the expression that Satoru wears; he looks more like a disappointed child now as opposed to a spoiled one. It made you wonder if he acted like that constantly, or if it was because you were around.
"Why don't you come with us?" Suguru offers, extending his hand to you. You peer curiously at it, how his fingers lightly shake and how the lines in his palms flex as his fingers extend out to you. You glance down at your own palm, flexing your fingers before placing your palm flat on top of Suguru's.
Rolling his eyes, Satoru turns on his heel and begins to move back up the stairs, not caring to glance over his shoulder to check that you and Suguru were following him.
You glance at Suguru, who still holds your hand. You hum again, smiling as Suguru's eyes flicker to meet your awaiting gaze. He returns your smile, then gesturing with his head towards the top of the stairs. You nod understandingly, falling into step with Suguru and climbing the steps.
You tilt your head back to look at the archways that line the stairs, smiling to yourself as you walk quietly beside Suguru – neither of you say anything about the fact that your fingers are still interlinked. For as foreign as it was to you, it also felt familiar.
"Come on, you're both taking forever!" Satoru complains from further up the stairs, turning to finally glance at both you and Suguru from over his shoulder.
You release your hold on Suguru's hand, deciding to take it two steps at a time to properly catch up with Satoru, not wanting to hear him complain any longer. You spread your arms out to balance yourself once you reach the top of the stairs, spinning on your heel and grinning widely as Suguru walks into view – immediately returning your childlike grin.
"What do we say to Yaga?" Satoru asks as Suguru moves to stand at his side. Suguru hums, his gaze momentarily flickering to sneak a glance at you. You lift your hand to wave at him once his eyes land on you, then taking two large steps to stand directly beside Suguru.
"I'm sure we'll figure something out," Suguru mutters, feeling his spine stiffen as you bravely fold your fingers into his own, squeezing at them and sending him another closed-eyed smile.
< … >
"And she was simply sitting there?" Yaga clarifies, raising an eyebrow at Suguru and Satoru – both of whom nod their heads. Satoru crosses his arms over his chest, having been mentally checked out of the conversation since first entering the office.
"From what we both saw," Suguru says, sneaking a glance at Satoru and mentally smacking his best friend at the disinterested look on his face, "yes. She was just sitting there."
Yaga hums in thought, folding his fingers together and resting his chin on top of his knuckles. He turns his head to the door, curious to see what would happen if he were to open it and allow you inside. But at the same time, he didn't want to risk a possible Curse or Curse User to have entry to his office, knowing that the action would carry its own unique set of consequences.
"Is she human?" Satoru asks, breaking the otherwise tense silence in the office. Yaga's eyes flicker to the third-year, his eyes narrowing as he mulls the question over in his head. That specific thought had not crossed his mind yet – were you human?
"Has she demonstrated anything that would indicate otherwise?" Yaga inquires. Satoru and Suguru exchange glances, thinking about your odd behavior and your inability to verbally communicate with either of them.
"Well, she acted oddly as we spoke to her. And when she herself tried to speak back to us, it was almost like she wasn't able to," Suguru answers, recalling the way that you had opened your mouth to speak and winced at the realization that nothing would come out.
Yaga nods thoughtfully, once again looking to the closed office door. He ponders his options, weighing them in his mind before he braces his palms against his legs, rising to his feet. He closes the distance to the door in two, long strides.
Outside of the door, you turn your head to the sound of the office's door clicking open, revealing a man with tanned skin and buzzed dark brown hair. You tilt your head up at him, pushing yourself to your feet and hiding your hands behind your back, peering up at the man with curious eyes.
"Hello there," Yaga says to you, trying his hardest not to sound intimidating. You blink at him, resembling a deer caught in a truck's headlights as you tilt your head to the opposite side.
Deciding to try again, you part your lips to speak, wanting desperately to say something to the man that towers over you. But just like the previous two times, the only thing that comes from your throat is a hum – just like how Suguru had hummed at you before.
Furrowing his eyebrows, Yaga glances down at your hands, watching as you lay your fingers against your throat, squeezing at it as if trying to force sounds out of it. He narrows his eyes at you, humming to himself before turning back to the office door. No, you weren't human.
"Why don't you come with me?" Yaga offers, gesturing with his hand towards the office. You follow his gaze, peering inside to see both Suguru and Satoru sitting on two wooden chairs. You grin, promptly making your way inside and beelining for Suguru, lowering yourself to sit cross-legged in front of his chair.
Yaga is only a step behind you, watching through narrowed eyes as you sit down in front of Suguru. With the way that you glance up at him, one might think that you were the third-year's obedient dog. Your eyes wait for him to notice you, lighting up the moment that his gaze meets yours – even if it's only for a fleeting moment.
They know what you are, be very careful.
You shake your head, ignoring the ringing in your ears and turning back to Yaga. The older man sits behind a grand oak desk, one that has papers scattered about its surface with scribbled lines drawn onto them. Suguru furrows hie eyebrows down at you, having noticed the flickering expression that had passed over your face – as if someone had blown into your ear and startled you.
"Both of you keep an eye on her. You may tell Shoko as well, but try to keep her from the other students," Yaga instructs, receiving nods of agreement from both Satoru and Suguru. You turn your head halfway to Yaga, curious as to who this mysterious 'Shoko' was.
Would they be another figure like Satoru? Or were they someone like Suguru?
"We understand," Suguru says, then standing from his seat and offering his hand to you. You lay your palm against his, allowing him to lift you off of the ground with shocking strength.
Satoru puffs out the air that he holds in his lungs, not reacting as his bangs fall back into place over his eyes, shielding his vision. You tilt your head at him, was he hiding his eyes on purpose? Or was there something else about him that you simply didn't know?
"Come on, let's get you a uniform," Suguru says to you, smiling. You return his smile brightly, bounding after him as he makes his way to the door of the office. Satoru follows close behind, hunched over with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was effortlessly clear that he was inconvenienced by your presence.
You follow close behind Suguru as he leads you down a long, winding hallway. Besides the three of you, there isn't anyone else, which only piques your curiosity in who 'Shoko' was and who the 'other students' were. Deep down, you hoped that Shoko wasn't anything like Satoru – who continued to make it clear that he didn't like you one bit.
You turn your head to sneak a glance at Satoru, taking a mental note of the way that his eyebrows pinch together and the way that a pout settles over his lips. He walks close to Suguru's side, similar to the way that you did.
Suguru stops walking eventually, turning to peer down a small archway that leads to an outdoor area, one with the trees that matched those that you had walked past when Suguru and Satoru had led you up all of those stairs.
"Stay here, I'll go and get Shoko," Suguru says, nodding at both you and Satoru before walking outside. You take a step after him, but Satoru is quick to stop you, his fingers closing around your wrist and tugging you back to your original position.
"He said stay," Satoru says slowly, speaking to you as if you were a child who lacked understanding. You nod at him, pressing your lips firmly together and waiting patiently for Suguru to return.
The dark-haired male returns a few seconds later, another figure following behind him. Their hair is short and brown, with a beauty mark just underneath their left eye. You peer curiously at them, watching as they shift the position of something in their mouth – a stick with a brown end.
"Woah," the figure says, eyes raking up and down your figure before their eyes flicker between Suguru and Satoru, neither of which say anything in response. "Shoko, it's nice to meet you."
You smile brightly at the figure, holding your hand out to her in the same way that Suguru had done to you so many times before. Shoko returns your smile with one of her own, soft and gentle; and her hand folds into yours, shaking it politely.
"We've been tasked to keep an eye on her. She isn't allowed to be around any of the other students, obviously with us being the only exception," Suguru explains, stowing his hands away in his pockets, "at least, that's what Yaga told us."
"Babysitting duty," Satoru says in a sour tone, scrunching his nose in an expression of disgust as he glances to Shoko. She reaches a hand out, swiping at the back of his head and rolling her eyes at the dramatic cry that he lets out.
"You're such a jerk," Shoko mutters through her teeth, then turning to you, "don't mind him, yeah?"
You flash her a closed-eye smile, nodding in agreement.
< … >
"Go on and try again, there's nothing wrong with trying," Suguru says with a reassuring smile, finding himself biting back a chuckle at the frustrated expression that passes over your face. You puff your cheeks out, annoyed at the fact that every time that you tried to speak...nothing happened.
You inhale deeply, puffing your chest out and holding the air in your lungs before forcing your lips apart, trying once again to say one simple word.
Ignoring the small burn in your throat, you screw your eyes shut.
"Hello."
Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkled at the corners as you open your eyes again, staring at him like a deer in headlights. "See? I told you that you could do it."
You grin widely, springing up from your place in front of Suguru and barely containing the excitement that shoots through you. You curl your hands into gleeful fists as you continue happily dancing around, earning a proud chuckle from Suguru.
"Hello," you repeat, shocked at the sound of your own voice. It didn't sound anything like the little whispers in your head. Those were raspy, gravelly voices that felt like nails being dragged down a chalkboard. Your voice was soft, quiet – a stark contrast.
"Hi," Suguru returns, smiling again at you as you seat yourself back down in front of him. "Now, what's your name?"
You purse your lips, humming in thought before bubbling, "(Y/N)!"
Suguru nods, reaching a hand out to affectionately ruffle your hair. You lean into the touch, smiling brightly and repeating your name to him again.
Your ears perk at the sound of two pairs of footsteps, turning to see Satoru and Shoko walking into the otherwise empty classroom – presumably looking for both yourself and Suguru. Satoru says nothing to either of you whereas Shoko waves politely, shooting you a kind smile.
"Hi!" you say excitedly. The sound of your voice causes Shoko's eyes to widen, the cigarette between her lips falling to the floor in front of her. The ghost of her smile returns, spreading across her face as she kneels in front of you.
"Well would you look at that? You found your voice," Shoko compliments, patting your head in a fashion similar to the way that Suguru had. You smile at the display of affection, leaning closer to Shoko and then glancing to Satoru, hoping for that same kind of praise.
He rolls his eyes begrudgingly, unfolding the arms that he had previously crossed over his chest. "Good job (Y/N)."
You smile, scrunching your nose up at him.
< ... >
"There you go. Now, when you go to punch someone, tuck your thumb inward," Suguru instructs, lifting his hand and folding his own thumb inward, then gesturing to you to mimic the action.
"In," you repeat, holding up your hand and making a show of tucking your thumb inward. Suguru nods at you, then gesturing to the punching dummy that he had nicked from one of the training rooms in order to help you with your self-defense.
It had been six months since Suguru first stumbled upon you at the stairs of Jujutsu Tech, and in those six months he still didn't have an answer to the question of who you really were or where you truly came from.
Sure, you looked human enough – even though the stitches that littered your body could tell a completely different story depending on the author. But even with those stitches, you acted like a constantly excitable child, always wanting to be at Suguru's side and wanting to be involved in everything that he did.
To him, it was endearing, albeit very confusing at the same time.
You turn to the punching dummy in front of you, curling your hands into fists and making sure to tuck your thumbs inward just like you had been told. You throw a punch at the dummy, smiling as it wobbles backward before returning to its original position.
"Good?" Your body turns to glance at Suguru, already feeling your senses tingling at the proud smile that settles itself on Suguru's lips.
"Good job (Y/N)."
"Yeah, you're doin' great," Shoko agrees as she walks onto the training field, smiling and returning your hug as you rush to throw your arms around her. "Yeah, yeah, I missed you too."
"Where's 'Toru?" you inquire curiously, tilting your head as you realize Satoru's absence. Shoko glances over her shoulder, furrowing her eyebrows and letting out an exasperated sigh through her nose.
"He was supposed to be right behind me. Guess he got sidetracked," Shoko says offhandedly, though she regrets her tone upon seeing the fall in your expression. Your shoulders slump, eyes casting themselves to the ground as you take a step back from her.
"Does 'Toru like me?"
Suguru and Shoko exchange knowing glances with one another. Neither of them answer you quickly, which only adds to the feeling of dejection.
Shoko lifts her hand, resting it reassuringly on your shoulder and sending you a comforting smile. "Sure he does, he just has a weird way of showin' it."
All you could do is nod in response.
< … >
"A mission?" You can't help but tilt your head at Suguru, who only nods at you as he adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. He chuckles, then turning completely to you.
“Yeah, Yaga will sometimes send us out on missions. We go out to a given location and exorcise the curses that reside there,” Suguru explains, watching as you mull his words over in your head.
Curses? Exorcise?
“What’s a curse?” you ask, following Suguru as he begins to walk towards the entrance of Jujutsu Tech. He turns to glance at you over his shoulder, feeling himself smile as you spread your arms out to balance yourself, having accidentally rolled your ankle while following him.
“A curse is—“
“There you are Suguru! I’m offended, you almost left without me,” Satoru says loudly from behind you, dramatically wiping away tears that definitely don’t exist.
You turn and smile as the snowy-haired male approaches both you and Suguru, throwing his arm over Suguru’s shoulder and sparing you a half-assed glance. You smile and wave, still polite as ever.
“Are you going too?” you turn to Satoru, “Yaga said that I can go too!”
Satoru forces himself to smile, left eye twitching in annoyance as he turns his head to look at you. “Joy.”
“Don’t be like that Satoru,” Suguru scolds, whacking a hand against the back of Satoru’s head. The latter lets out a yelp, cupping the back of his head and shooting Suguru a half-assed glare — one that is immediately reciprocated by the raven-haired male.
You smile lightly at both of the boy’s antics, taking two steps to stand at Suguru’s left side, then turning your head to flash that same smile at Satoru.
For a moment, something inside of Satoru softens. But only for a moment.
“Ready to go?” you say to both of the third-years, smiling and folding your hands behind your back as your gaze flickers between the two.
“Stay close, okay?” Suguru says to you, his eyes softening as his gaze falls on you. You smile, nodding your head at him.
“Okay!”
< … >
So that’s what an exorcism is.
You watch through curious eyes as Suguru holds what used to be a curse in his hands, fingers curled around the small, swirling ball. He lifts it up, eyes examining it for a moment before he notices your curious gaze.
“That’s…what a curse is?” you say, pointing at it and scrunching your nose. Suguru nods his head, opening his mouth and promptly absorbing the curse — just as he always had done.
Your eyes widen as you watch him consume the ball, eyebrows lifting to create a worried indent in the skin of your forehead. Your hands shoot out, taking hold of either side of his face and tilting it this way and that.
“What did you do that for?!” you squeal, squeezing Suguru’s face and staring worriedly at him. He chuckles, unable to answer with the force at which you hold his cheeks.
“It’s okay (Y/N),” he says, voice slightly muddled, “it’s just my technique.”
“Technique?” you echo.
He nods, adjusting his jaw once your hands release him. He smiles again at you, the sight slightly reassuring you.
“Sorcerers have what are called Cursed Techniques, mine just so happens to be the absorption of curses,” Suguru explains, smacking his lips as a disgusted expression falls over his face.
You tilt your head at him, pressing two fingers against your throat before your gaze returns to his facial expression — how his eyebrows are slightly pinched together, how his eyes water and how his jaw momentarily sets itself in place.
“Not good?” you whisper to him, as if asking him about a secret that only he knew the answer to. Suguru’s eyes flicker to you, his gaze softening.
“No,” he answers simply, shaking his head at you. You pout, bottom lip jutting out before you reach out and pat his shoulder — similar to the way that he would pat either your head or shoulder as a means of comfort.
“Why do you do it then?”
Suguru pauses, his hand coming up to cover your own. His fingers affectionately squeeze your own, lips turning upward in a smile just as soft as his actions.
“It’s a curse (Y/N). We’re meant to exorcise them,” Suguru reiterates, smacking his lips together in an attempt to rid his tongue of the taste left behind by the consumed curse.
You hum, glancing down at the stitches that crawl up your arms. We’re meant to do it. We’re meant to do it.
But why are they meant to do it?
“So…curses are bad?” you turn your head to Suguru, falling into step with him as he glances down at his phone. Satoru must have texted him regarding the curse that he was meant to exorcise.
Suguru hums in agreement, stowing his phone away into his pocket and casting you a sideways glance. He makes a mental note of the conflicted expression on your face, eyebrows pinched together and eyes slightly narrowed.
“Yeah, they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them. So us Jujutsu Sorcerers are sent to exorcise them,” Suguru explains, reaching behind him to fold his fingers into your own. Your lips, which usually turn upward at any given affection, remain pressed together in a thin line.
Your eyes widen for a moment, an expression of realization flickering over your face. You stop walking beside Suguru, not reacting as his hand tugs at yours, silently telling you to continue walking.
“…they pose as a danger to people that can’t see them.”
Wait a minute.
“What are you doing out here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous?” Suguru says gently to the little girl standing in front of him, her arms wound tightly around a small stuffed rabbit.
She sniffles, using the hand that doesn’t hold her rabbit to wipe the stray tears that roll down her cheeks. “I’m sorry,” she sobs.
Suguru sighs, an exasperated puff of breath through his nose as he places a hand on top of the girl’s head, rubbing her hair comfortingly.
“It’s alright.”
Curiously, you kneel down beside Suguru, staring at the girl with your head tilted to the side. You lift a finger, pointing at the rabbit that the girl clutches to her chest.
“I like your toy,” you say to her with a smile, mimicking the way that Suguru had smiled at the girl in order to prove that he wasn’t there to hurt her.
The girl only sniffles again, her gaze never once leaving Suguru. Curiously, the raven-haired male flicks his eyes to glance at you — had the girl maybe not heard you?
“I like your rabbit,” Suguru repeats, gesturing with his head towards the toy clutched in the girl’s arms. The girl smiles gently, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she hugs her rabbit a little tighter.
“Thanks Mister.”
You pause, blinking. The girl continues to smile at Suguru, forgetting about any and all of the fear that she had been feeling just seconds before.
She couldn’t see you.
Non-sorcerers can’t see Curses. Did that mean that…?
“Hey…(Y/N), you alright?” Suguru asks, his voice filtering its way back into your ears. You turn quickly to him, blinking away the last remnants of your trance.
“Yeah! I’m okay!” you answer with a bubbly smile, though that thought lingers in the back of your mind — what were you?
< … >
“Have any of you seen (Y/N)? I wanted to practice a Reverse Curse Technique with her,” Shoko shifts her cigarette from the left side of her mouth to her right, peering curiously at Suguru and Satoru.
Satoru shrugs, sipping at the can of cola in his hand and glancing at Suguru, who also shrugs.
“Lovely, you’re both so useful,” Shoko rolls her eyes, turning on her heel and departing from the room. She wanders down the hall, passing by your dorm and stopping as she notices the door had been left open.
Curiously, she peers inside, shocked to see you sitting in the center of the room. Surrounding your crossed legs are various textbooks from taken from the library, all of them open to pictures of various curses — ranging from Second-Grade to Special-Grade.
Your eyes roam over the sketched pictures, fingers running over a particularly nasty looking Special-Grade curse that looks oddly similar to a disfigured human — a woman to be exact. You tilt your head at the image of her, her arms were stitched in a similar fashion to your own, but yet you both looked drastically different.
“(Y/N)? What’re you doin’ in here?” Shoko smiles softly at you as she enters, knocking once to alert you to her presence. You turn quickly to her, slamming the textbook shut and looking at her as if you had been caught doing something that you weren’t meant to be doing.
“Hi Sho’!” you say affectionately, standing from your place in the center of the room and brushing your hands down the front of your pants. She eyes you curiously, humming to herself before removing her cigarette from between her lips, puffing out one last cloud of smoke before she walks to the window of your dormitory, then disposing of her finished cigarette.
She tilts her head, noticing your avoidance of her question, “Everything okay?”
You nod, humming at her and folding your hands behind your back, forcing your gaze to focus on her and not wander down to the closed textbook by your foot. You swallow the growing lump in your throat, wincing as it momentarily gets stuck — hopefully Shoko wouldn’t notice.
“Yeah! I was just reading, Sugu said it was a good way to kill time!” you answer with your usual bubbly smile, but Shoko doesn’t fail to notice how it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You were hiding something, and it wasn’t very subtle.
“Oh cool, what’re you reading?” Shoko inquires, tilting her head and lowering herself to the floor, plucking one of the closed textbooks off of the ground and flipping through it. She makes a mental note of the way that your expression falls, like a child who had been caught doing something that they shouldn’t.
“Reading about curses, those thingies that Suguru and ‘Toru went to exorcise,” you answer honestly, taking the textbook from her and opening to the page that you had been staring at, turning it towards her and smiling again — hoping again that she wouldn’t notice the way that you force your lips upward.
“Oh, that’s a Special-Grade,” Shoko comments, smiling at you as you turn the textbook back around, glancing down at the sketched picture. “They’re tough ones.”
“Stronger than Sugu and ‘Toru?”
Shoko shakes her head, chuckling breathily, “No, not stronger than those two idiots.”
You glance down at the picture, at the stitches on the curse’s arms and the way that its eyes crinkle in a sadistic, maniacal smile. You tilt your head — she looked a little bit like you.
“Are curses bad?” you glance up at Shoko, who stares curiously back at you. “Are all of them bad?”
“Well, yeah. They wanna hurt the innocent, and that’s why we exorcise them,” Shoko explains, following you to the floor as you sit down, crossing your legs. Your eyes wander back down to the sketched image, eyebrows pinching together.
“But what if a curse doesn’t hurt people?”
“That’s practically unheard of,” Shoko comments, turning to you, “a lot of the curses we exorcise have already hurt innocent bystanders.”
You nod your head, though the action feels forced. You hadn’t hurt anyone…did that make you a bad curse?
< … >
Go away.
Go away.
GO THE FUCK AWAY.
You step back from the now broken mirror, chest rising and falling in heaving breaths as you glance down at your reddened arms, nail marks dragged against your skin in angry red lines.
Eyes that scream tales of hatred flicker up to your awaiting reflection, the broken glass giving your body a fragmented look that only adds to your disgust of the stitches that hold you together.
You were the same as that broken mirror — fragmented and messily put back together by hands that weren’t your own.
Your shoulders continue to rise and fall in tune with your heavy intakes of air, hands curled into white-knuckled fists with blood dripping down the crevices of your skin. You bled the same as they did, and yet you were still so drastically different.
“Monster,” you whisper to your reflection, glancing back at it and reeling your arm back, preparing to strike at the broken mirror again.
You are no monster.
You pause, fist hanging limply in midair as you stare at your eyes. Something in you tells you to complete the action, but you don’t.
“Curse.” Shakily, you lift a finger to point at the fragmented reflection that stares back at you.
That’s better.
You glance down at the reddened lines that now adorn your arms, nail marks left behind by angered scratching fueled by the sight of your stitches.
You weren’t like Suguru or Satoru — they were human.
I’m not human.
Now show them what a true curse is.
< … >
"Another Special-Grade? Honestly, can they just not find qualified sorcerers to deal with these things?" Satoru complains loudly, his eyes momentarily falling shut as Shoko slips his darkened sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose.
Suguru bites back the laugh that bubbles at the back of his throat, his gaze flickering to watch the dramatics of his best friend – which has now resulted in the snowy-haired male lying flat on the floor of the gymnasium, his arms spread at his sides like a starfish.
"Supposedly, we're the only two that are qualified enough to take on Special-Grades. You know that Satoru," Suguru reminds him, kneeling down on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside Satoru, who blows a puff of air from his parted lips and groans as his bangs fall back over his eyes.
"Bullshit," Satoru mutters, pushing himself up onto his elbows and turning his head just enough to glance at Suguru.
"Come on, we should leave now before Yaga gets upset."
Satoru groans again, standing with Suguru's help and glancing at Shoko – who is currently lighting what the males believe to be her fourth cigarette of the day, though neither of them comment on it.
"Can one of you check on (Y/N) before you go? Haven't seen her," Shoko mutters, struggling momentarily with her lighter. The moment that the end of her cigarette is lit, she takes a deep inhale, then releasing the small cloud of smoke in front of her and waving it away quickly.
Suguru's eyebrows pinch together, "What are you talking about?"
Shoko pauses, she hadn't told either of them about the state that she had found you in that day; surrounded by meaningless textbooks and looking at the pictures as if they had resonated with you on a spiritual level.
"Just," Shoko pauses, already lifting her thumb and index finger to the bridge of her nose, pinching it, "check on her, yeah?"
Satoru opens his mouth to protest, but Suguru is quick to slap the palm of his hand against his friend's parted lips, effectively silencing him.
"Sure thing," Suguru answers with a closed-eye smile, moving his hand from Satoru's mouth at the feeling of the center of his palm being licked.
The walk to your dormitory from the gymnasium isn't very long, or at least, it wouldn't have been as long as it was if Satoru wasn't loudly complaining and dragging his feet. As much as Suguru wants to spin on his heel and tell Satoru to just stop, he restrains himself – focused instead on getting to you and figuring out the source of Shoko's concern.
He rounds the corner to the student dormitories, his eyebrows pinching together as he notices your door open. Satoru pauses as well, resisting the urge that he has to throw out a sarcastic quip.
"(Y/N)?" Suguru calls into the empty room, taking a step over the threshold and peering curiously around your dormitory's interior. The first thing that he notices is the overturned furniture, then the scattered pages of various textbooks, and lastly the broken glass that litters the floor. What the hell happened?
"What the hell happened here?" Satoru asks, looking around and lifting his leg to be sure that he doesn't step on any broken glass. Suguru exhales shakily, already turning on his heel and leaving the room – now he understood all of Shoko's concern.
"Come on, we're finding (Y/N)."
< … >
"No, wait, please!"
You tilt your head, eyes widening momentarily as the man in front of you begins to expand, his eyes bulging from his head as blood spills from his lash line like tears. His hands lift shakily, fingers digging into his hair before his head promptly explodes.
His body tilts backward, falling with a lifeless thud.
See? Isn't it entertaining?
You stare down at the headless corpse, kneeling down and poking at the blood that dribbles down the man's neck. The liquid clings to your skin, the sight bringing a disgusted curl to your lips as you quickly straighten yourself, standing.
You turn on your heel, exiting the alleyway that you had cornered the man in, wandering down the busy street and listening to the buzz of the pedestrians that surround you. You turn your head this way and that, simply taking in the simplicity of the lives that humans lead.
As you continue to walk down the street, you find yourself smiling at the fact that nobody pays you any mind – not that they had the ability to. You were unseen for as long as you wished to be unseen, creeping up on whoever you wished with the same stealth as a prowling cat.
You should get that one next.
You lift your head to look ahead, eyes landing on a young girl wandering the streets, her eyes bright and glittering as she skips along. Her arms are wound tightly around a stuffed animal, just like the other young girl that had been unable to see you on that mission with Suguru.
A smirk curls the corner of your lips upwards, eyes crinkling at the corners as you slowly begin to stalk your way towards the young girl. She continues walking, her little pigtails swaying with each step of her feet. You reach a hand out, the tips of your fingers just barely grazing the back of her head.
"(Y/N)."
You pause, eyes wide as you lift your head to stare ahead. The young girl turns, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she stares right through you, her eyes focused instead on the raven-haired male that stands behind you.
Suguru pauses, watching you with a tilt to his head that simply asks, "What are you doing?" His body language otherwise is relaxed, showing you that he was of no threat to you. He didn't want you to think that he was going to hurt you.
You don't turn to face Suguru, instead reaching a hand out and laying your palm flat against the top of the girl's head. She gives no reaction, her eyes still focused on the male who had called her by the wrong name.
Suguru watches through horrified eyes as the girl promptly expands, her voice catching in her throat. Her parted lips only release a high-pitched squeak before the upper half of her body explodes.
Her blood spatters against the pavement in front of her, the lower half of her body tilting backward before it falls to the ground with a dull, lifeless thud.
The passerby that walk down the street pause, and it only takes one person screaming to send the surrounding pedestrians into a state of unbridled panic.
Suguru watches, his eyes wide as those around him scramble for safety, not knowing what was going on or who had been the cause of the carnage that lay in the middle of the sidewalk. His body stands as stiff as a board, eyes flickering momentarily down to the girl who lays in the sidewalk.
“(Y/N),” he begins, taking a brave step towards you and reaching for your wrist. Your eyes flicker down to his outstretched fingers, quickly avoiding him and turning around to blankly glare at him.
It was a look that he had never seen on your face before, hatred swirling in your eyes and a disgusted scowl curling the corner of your lip upward. You glared at him as if he were the scum of the Earth — devoid of all of the warmth that you once held for him.
“What? Are you going to exorcise me too?” you inquire with a tilt of your head, hair falling over your shoulders as you turn completely to face him.
Suguru furrows his eyebrows together, staring at you as if you had somehow sprouted another head. Exorcise you? How would he even be able to do that?
He doesn’t know what you are, remind him.
Your lips peel back in an angered growl as you turn your head to catch a glance at the young girl lying on the sidewalk. Her blood had already somewhat dried up, now caked on top of the sandy brown tiles of the pavement.
“I did what the other curses do,” you murmur, eyes flickering down to your now bloodied hands. This very time yesterday you would have scrunched your nose in disgust and tried to scrub every last droplet of blood from your palms.
But now?
Now you looked down at the blood like it was your own personal golden trophy — a reminder of what you had become and the persona that you had adopted. If you were considered a curse, then you were going to show everyone a true curse…even Suguru.
“Does that mean that now you’re going to exorcise me?”
Suguru pauses, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and glancing at you with an expression that is an odd mixture of confusion and concern.
“(Y/N), what are you talking about? You aren’t a curse,” Suguru says, his sentence momentarily broken by a breathy chuckle. You grit your teeth, shaking your head at him.
He doesn’t understand…make him understand.
“Only you, ‘Toru, and Sho’ can see me,” you point out, “nobody else can.”
“That’s not true. Yaga and—“ his voice trails off. You nod knowingly, smirking as the realization finally dawns on the male standing in front of you.
“And no one else,” you finish for him, taking a step towards him. Then you take another, and another, and suddenly your shoulder is brushing against his as you move to walk past him. “You don’t find that odd?”
Suguru turns quickly, already wanting to reach out for you and knock some kind of sense into you. But you’re much swifter than he is, and you dodge the hand that reaches out for you.
“But you aren’t like the other curses.”
You smirk, gesturing with only your eyes down to the girl that lays dead in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Is that not what other curses do?” you jab a thumb over your shoulder, reminding Suguru of what lies behind you. “Is that not why you exorcise them?”
Suguru pauses, once again swallowing the lump in his throat and forcing his gaze to focus on you — trying to forget what lies just over your shoulder. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, but you were making it abundantly clear that you held not an ounce of remorse.
You were a curse. And he was a Sorcerer.
What the fuck does he do now?
< … >
Suguru Geto —> Satoru Gojo
You need to get down to ******. Something’s REALLY wrong with (Y/N).
Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto
What do you mean?
Suguru Geto --> Satoru Gojo
Just get down here.
Satoru Gojo --> Suguru Geto
Alright, I'm on my way.
"Suguru! What's going on?" Satoru waves his hand in the air as he slows to a stop at Suguru's side, peering curiously at his best friend through the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. Suguru stands quickly, not bothering to answer before he's sweeping past Satoru and leading him in the direction that you had walked off in.
Curiously, Satoru follows, falling quickly into step with Suguru as both sorcerers walk down the pedestrian-filled sidewalk. The former doesn't fail to notice the way that Suguru's eyes dart around the various shops and scan the various faces that happen to pass by. The only question that he had was; why?
"Are you – uh – gonna tell me what's going on?" Satoru finally breaks the silence between himself and Suguru after they had been walking for a good five minutes in nothing but an awkward, tense silence.
Suguru swallows the lump in his throat, voice heavy when he finds it, "Just...something's wrong with (Y/N)."
"Yeah," Satoru replies with a roll of his eyes, "I gathered that much."
"No, I mean really wrong. She isn't human Satoru," Suguru says gravely, already feeling himself shudder at the realization that you were nothing like what he had originally believed. But after you told him that nobody beside himself and the others at Jujutsu Tech could see you, everything quickly fell into place.
"What do you mean she isn't human?" Satoru echoes, tilting his head curiously as Suguru stops at the entrance point of a darkened alleyway. Brown eyes stare quietly down the length of the alleyway, focusing on something before Suguru takes a brave step forward with Satoru following close behind.
"I mean that she's a curse," Suguru says finally, turning his head to glance at Satoru.
The snowy-haired male pauses, standing as still as stone at the entrance of the alleyway. His jaw is slack, but he's quick to snap it back into place. "A curse?"
Suguru doesn't answer, not that he really needs to. But Satoru wants him to, he wants an explanation – a play-by-play of just how it came out that you weren't human. If you were really a curse, how come his Six Eyes had never told him that? What about you made them falter?
Or maybe...maybe they hadn't faltered. Had Satoru ignored his Six Eyes when they told him that you weren't human when he first met you?
"Let's just find her and get her back to Jujutsu High before anything happens," Suguru says as firmly as he can, though Satoru doesn't fail to notice the slight waver to his best friend's voice. He had cared about you from the moment that his eyes fell on you, tucking you underneath his wing and shielding you from the uglier parts of the Jujutsu world.
And yet, here he was, still protecting you even when you were the one thing that he had sworn to protect other people from.
That was the difference between Satoru and Suguru. Suguru would protect you even if you were digging a knife into his chest. He would protect you even if it meant turning the entire world against him. Satoru wouldn't.
If he found you before Suguru, he would exorcise you on the spot – with absolutely no remorse.
Because at the end of the day, if you were a curse, then you were no better than every other curse that he had seen. You were a danger, a hazard, a posing threat to all non-Jujutsu Sorcerers. It didn't matter what connection he had to you or what relationship he had with you; you were to be exorcised.
"Why don't we just exorcise her?" Satoru suggests, indifference seeping into his tone. Suguru turns quickly, looking at Satoru as if he had just been stabbed.
"Are you serious? Satoru, we can't just--"
"She's a curse Suguru. It'll be the exact same as any other mission that we've gone on," Satoru points out, ignoring Suguru's pointed glare as the pair wanders further into the alleyway. "She can't be that strong, you've never trained her with the use of Cursed Energy."
Suguru remains silent, looking around the nooks and crannies of the alleyway as if you would be hiding in any of them. Satoru follows closely behind, though he doesn't put as much effort into finding you.
"Don't rope her into the same group as those other curses," Suguru says, turning and sending Satoru a warning glare, "she's nothing like them."
From somewhere deep in the alleyway, both of the males hear a drawn out "aww".
Suguru turns, eyes widening as he tries to locate where the sound had come from. He knew that voice, he knew that voice, of course he knew that voice.
Satoru pauses, the arms that were once crossed over his chest unfolding as he follows Suguru's gaze, also trying to locate where the sound had come from. A whisper in his ear tells him to look upward, and so he does.
There, sitting in the darkness, is you. Your legs dangle over the fire escape of the accompanying apartment building, arm lifting in a friendly wave as you gaze down at both Suguru and Satoru – both of whom remain silent at the sight of you.
"Did you both come here to exorcise me?" Your voice is as sickly sweet as it always had been, though this time it's tinged with a second emotion, one that neither male is able to correctly put their finger on. Was it malice? Or was it a twisted sense of joy over being found?
"No (Y/N). We came here to help you--"
"No you didn't!" you're quick to cut him off, standing from your place on the fire exit and smiling widely. "I just heard you both. I may be a curse, but I'm not completely dense."
Neither of them answer you, but you can see that they desperately want to. You wonder if they pause because they don't know what to say or if what they want to say would only fuel your already burning anger.
"(Y/N)--"
"How will you do it?"
Suguru pauses, staring up at you. He swallows – he knows what you're referring to. You're wondering if he'll absorb you just like he would any other curse, or if he would exorcise you in a more traditional matter. You wonder if your off-colored blood would stain his hands and if he would stare at it the same way that you had stared at the young girl's blood on your own hands.
Satoru looks down at his feet, ignoring the uncomfortable tingle in his bones as his nails dig into the palms of his hands. He grits his teeth, willing himself to remain silent even though he so desperately wants to bite out an angered comment to you. He wants to yell at you for deceiving him, for making him believe that you were human – that you could be trusted.
And oddly enough, he doesn't. His urge to remain silent wins, and so stay silent is exactly what he does.
"(Y/N), I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says reassuringly, trying his best to coax you down from your place above him. You tilt your head at him, eyes sparkling as you silently will him to continue. Maybe his argument would be good enough, but it would most likely be the exact opposite.
"Yes you are," you bite back, tone bitter and dead. Suddenly you aren't as sweet as you were before, replaced instead by a persona that neither Suguru nor Satoru had seen before. Whatever curse you were, you had discovered it, and you were embracing it in a tight hug that nobody would be able to pry you from.
That's right, remind them.
"I'm just wondering how you're going to do it."
Suguru shakes his head again, his voice catching in his throat. He knows that he's going to have to exorcise you, not even because of protocol but because of the safety of every non-Jujutsu Sorcerer. Though he doesn't want to believe it, anyone could see as plain as day, you were dangerous.
You had killed a young girl without so much as a blink of your eye. Her blood on your hands meant nothing to you, you had glanced down at your stained palms with a glint of interest instead of disgust. You looked down at her body like it was nothing but a squashed ant on the ground.
Who was to say that you wouldn't kill again with that same lack of remorse?
"I'm not going to exorcise you," Suguru says again. You tilt your head, you know that he doesn't sound sincere, but at the same time he does. "I...can't exorcise you."
You smile, eyes folding at the corners as smile lines indent your forehead. You stand from your place atop the fire escape, though you make no notion to make your way down to where both sorcerers stand. It's tempting, you could fight them and prove your strength; but it would most likely end with you being exorcised anyway.
They were Special-Grade sorcerers after all, and you had no idea what grade level you fell into. All you knew was that you had the ability to make people disappear...or rather...make portions of them disappear into bloody heaps.
"Suguru," Satoru says warningly, already readying his body for a flurry of attacks. If he had to fight you, he wouldn't hold back. To him, you were nothing but a curse, but this time, he knew your name.
"Wait."
Satoru pauses, watching as Suguru takes a brave step towards the fire escape, looking up its ladder to maintain eye contact with you. You peer curiously down at him, trusting him.
His heart thuds in his ears as you slowly descend the ladder, pausing just a few steps above Suguru and glancing down your nose at him. Your hands hold the metal steps of the ladder, fingers curled tightly around the rusted metal as you remain silent, keeping Suguru's gaze.
"You haven't answered me," you say quietly, your voice bordering on a whisper, "how are you going to exorcise me?"
Suguru shakes his head again, blinking away the tears that cling to his waterline – a result of him keeping his eyes open for a prolonged period of time. He knows that he has to, but he doesn't want to.
Was this the sacrifice of a Jujutsu Sorcerer?
He's still going to exorcise you.
You watch through widened eyes as Suguru's hand lays flat against your chest, fingers bunching up the front of your shirt and tugging you forward roughly. Before you're able to react, everything goes dark. Your vision closes it on itself, the last thing you see being Suguru's tear-filled eyes staring back at you, a desperate "I'm sorry" caught in his throat – never to be uttered.
Satoru lifts his head at the sudden silence that falls over the alleyway, eyes widening as he notices the ball curled between Suguru's fingers. You're no longer standing on the ladder of the fire escape.
It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what had happened.
"Suguru," Satoru begins, taking a hesitant step towards Suguru. The raven-haired male only shakes his head, glancing down at the ball in his hand before he hesitantly opens his jaw. He wonders if maybe it wouldn't taste like a wet rag, but he knows that it will. All curses do.
< … >
"Hey, there you are," Shoko says with a smile, shifting her cigarette from one side of her mouth to the other as she walks to Suguru's side, hoisting herself up to sit on the windowsill in front of him. He turns to her, returning her softened smile with one of his own.
"Sorry, was I keeping you waiting?"
Shoko shakes her head, pinching her cigarette between her fingers and blowing out a small cloud of smoke. She turns her head to glance out of the window, squinting at the sunlight that filters in through the glass panes. "No, I figured you wouldn’t be keen on hanging out with everyone just yet."
Suguru hums, taking the cigarette that Shoko offers him, its end still burning with that orange hue that he had always found beautiful. He takes it between his lips, inhaling and ignoring the burn that the smoke in his lungs gives off.
"Just don't shut us out for good, yeah?" Shoko glances at Suguru, eyebrows raising. He chuckles at her, smoke pouring from his parted lips as he returns the cigarette to her fingers. "She was just as important to us as she was to you."
Suguru sighs, through his nose, turning his head to glance out of the window. On one of the branches of a nearby tree, a crow rests comfortably, its head tilted to absorb the evening sun, soaking it in. It shakes off its feathers, then turning to look through the window, eyes locking with those of Suguru's.
He stares back at it, blinking once before he returns to reality, half-listening to the story that Shoko had been telling him.
"Listen to me for a minute," Shoko says, reaching a hand out and comfortingly squeezing Suguru's knee. He gazes quietly at her, wondering what it is that she wanted to say. "(Y/N) meant a lot to all of us. But you did the right thing in exorcising her. Who knows what she would've done if we just let her walk around freely?"
"Was it my fault that she turned out the way that she did?"
Shoko shakes her head quickly, throwing her cigarette down onto the floor and turning her foot to extinguish it with her toe. Her lips turn upward in another soft smile, this one reassuring.
"If anything, it was the textbook's fault that she turned out the way that she did," Shoko says, her voice a mixture of serious and teasing.
She notices the way that Suguru's expression doesn't change. His eyebrows are still pinched together in a way that displays his guilt – his regret over not being able to help you. His eyes are hollow, sullen. His irises speak a thousand words even though his lips utter nothing.
She notices the way that his hands subconsciously clench into white-knuckled fists at the mere mention of your name. He had cared so much about you, in his eyes you could do no wrong. But to then have you become what you had...she couldn't imagine the pain that Suguru felt in his chest when she whispered your name.
"Geto," she says, smiling as his head snaps to force his gaze on her, "it was never your fault that (Y/N) became what she did."
The hand that rests on his knee pats it once, twice, three times. Just enough to comfort Suguru enough for him to momentarily forget about the guilt he felt over absorbing you.
"We can remember her for what she was before...everything. There's nothing wrong with that."
Suguru nods, smiling at the memory of your warmth and joy. How pure it was, how it radiated off of you as if you were the embodiment of the sun. In his memory, you weren't a bloodthirsty curse...
...you were always going to be (Y/N).
erm hi!! is it okay if i use your idea of photographer!ino for a modern!au fic i plan on making??
hi!! yes that’s completely fine, just do tag me in it, i’d love to see it!!
Read part two here!
His head was so quiet.
Your head was so loud.
That voice didn’t belong to you, nor did it belong to the pink-haired boy who stares at you with widened, scared eyes. His hands shake as they reach out for you, but there’s something that stops him from closing the distance.
You blink, eyes heavy as something inside of your chest twists — almost painfully so. You lift a hand to the front of your shirt, bunching up the fabric and glancing up at Yuuji. He still looks downright horrified, but you can’t seem to figure out why.
And suddenly … everything in your head was silent.
In front of you stretched an endless void, the light diminishing completely before you could even process that it was there. You open your mouth to speak, or to yell for help, but nothing but a pathetic garble falls from your parted lips.
“Hmm, didn’t think I would enjoy a brat’s body quite as much as I do this one.”
It’s your voice, but at the same time, it isn’t.
Yuuji’s heart drops to his stomach, widened eyes burning with tears. Now he knew why you sounded so different.
Those dark black marks.
Those rings around your wrists.
That sadistic glint to your usually softened eyes.
No.
Yuuji stares silently, his heart now in his throat as he stares at you … or rather … your body.
Your eyes flicker up to meet his own, and he can see the last traces of you being promptly snuffed out like a candle left out for too long.
“Let her go.”
A deep chuckle that feels so unlike you tumbles from your parted lips. Your head tilts back, eyes glaring down your nose at Yuuji.
Yuuji swallows the growing lump in his throat, clenching his hands into white-knuckled fists.
Shit.
Do you guys wanna see this continued? I half-assed this in class LMAO.
Astarion, once he's comfortable with you, is definitely the type of man to sleepily reach for you when he realizes that you've rolled out of his arms at night.
Like the moment, and I mean the moment, that he doesn't feel you wrapped up in his arms, he's up. Sure, he's groggy as all hell and he can't properly see anything around him -- but all he knows is that he's not holding you when he most definitely should be.
He'll push himself up onto his elbows, squinting to see that you've turned yourself away from him and rolled out of his arms. Your back is turned to him, but he knows that it wasn't intentional.
With a fanged yawn, Astarion reaches for you again. His arms loop around your waist and turn you around, tucking your head beneath his chin. Instinctively, your legs tangle with his own, your arms adjusting to wrap around his midsection.
He grins to himself, content again.
The JJK characters in various alternate universes!
INCLUDED - Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, Choso Kamo, Toji Fushiguro, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma, Ino Takuma, Yuuta Okkotsu, Inumaki Toge, Yuuji Itadori, Megumi Fushiguro
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is such a smug bastard — pearly skin adorned with intricate inked designs that each house their own specialized meaning and sparkling aquamarine eyes that search for you every time that the tiny shop bell dings. If it is you dropping by with a bag of his favorite takeout, he’ll momentarily pause with his client to lovingly greet you. Sure, it may annoy his client, but when it comes down to you, Satoru would allow cities to burn before his attention was ever pulled away from you.
!TATTOO ARTIST GOJO is absolutely over the moon when you tell him that he can practice designs on you, offering him your arm or your leg with that smile that he can’t help but press a loving kiss to. He’ll make sure that you’re nice and comfortable before starting; he likely offers you a stress ball or something similar before getting to work. And once the piece is finished, he happily accepts the compliments (and kisses) you give him for doing such a beautiful job. (He also will not say no to the thousand Instagram pictures that you order him to take).
!BIKER GETO is, quite literally, a doberman wearing a pristine leather jacket. So when you politely text him to pick you up from your girl’s night, he’s already grabbing your helmet and speeding his way from your shared apartment to whatever bar you were at. He tells you to stay put, that he would be there in ten minutes, and that he loved you. The moment that you hear his bike’s engine, you’re moving towards it like a moth to a garden light. He wastes no time in throwing his jacket over your shoulders and wrapping you up in his arms, tucking your face away and pressing comforting kisses against your hairline.
!BIKER GETO absolutely adores the fact that you want to use his bike as a prop in your Instagram pictures, posing with the vehicle in an outfit that is planned to perfectly match the color of his bike. He doesn’t mind being your photographer at all, praising you and making sure that he gets all of your good angles. He also doesn’t mind helping you pick which ones to post — just as long as you make sure to tag him in them. And as long as you don’t mind him mercilessly attacking any other male in your comments that even dares to compliment you.
!COWBOY NANAMI is an absolute sucker for the domestic mornings that you both share; he loves waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and occasionally, sausage. (Though he doesn’t like waking up to you not lying beside him, you making him breakfast is a very easy solution.) He loves coming downstairs to see you humming and dancing around the kitchen, wearing one of his button-ups that dwarfs you completely. He just loves how comfortable and in your element you are — you make him so incredibly soft.
!COWBOY NANAMI is already picking out a ring after you meet his family for the first time … extended cousins and all. The little ones dance around your legs and compliment you in those adorable Southern accents, his aunts and uncles smile fondly at the way that you present yourself and talk about your relationship with him, and his parents are simply overjoyed at the little jewel that their son decided to bring home. His hand wraps comfortably around your waist — and in that smooth Southern accent that melts you into a puddle — he agrees with his parents’ compliments and sneaks in one of his own.
!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO doesn’t want to think that he likes you at first. After all, you only ever stopped by his room to check in on the little ones, other than that, you remained in the daycare’s main office working as an assistant to the owner. So then why does his heart flutter every time that you make your routine stop to his room? Why do his cheeks feel warm every time that you talk to him? Why does he never want you to leave every time that your checks are finished? Why doesn’t he ever want you to leave?
!DAYCARE WORKER CHOSO who can’t help but smile a little wider when he watches you interact with the kids in his rooms on your days off; how you never fail to make sure that each and every child is accounted for and is included. And Choso also doesn’t fail to notice how the children light up when he mentions that you’re stopping by — already asking what toys you were going to bring and what games you were going to play. It warms his heart that they love you just as much as (if not more) than he does.
!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who spots you on his lunch break, talking so prettily with your little gaggle of friends. The coffee cup in your hand is decorated with the deep red of your lipstick — it makes him wonder what shade of red it is (and how it would look on his skin). Of course, he can’t talk to you at that moment, but his coworkers make sure that you know that he’s interested in you. And sure, you don’t catch his gaze just yet, but he knows that it’s only a matter of time until you do.
!BLUE COLLAR WORKER TOJI who all but melts into your arms when he returns home after a particularly long day, savoring the warmth of your arms and burying his face away into your shoulder. Your hands rub up and down the length of his spine, cooing sweet reassurances into his ear and pressing kisses against his temple. He can’t help but smile at the fact that he was being babied, but considering that it was you … who was he to say no?
!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who, at first, is very cold and distanced from you — considering that it was your father who hired him and gave him the instruction to keep an eye on your every move and make sure that you were properly kept safe. His answers to you are short and clipped, spoken in a tone that is laced with venom. It only drives you further away from him, which both satisfies and frustrates him. He really does love you from the moment your words are directed at him, but because of his current situation, he pushes those feelings deep down and forces himself to forget about them.
!BODYGUARD SUKUNA who sneaks into your room in the middle of the night, smirking to himself when he enters to see you patiently waiting for him. You smile softly at him as he enters, crawling into his arms once he makes himself comfortable on your bed. Your head tucks comfortably into the crook of his neck, arms winding around his waist with your legs tangling with his own. He tilts his head to rest his cheek against the side of your head, humming against you — savoring the warmth of your embrace and relishing in the chaste kisses that you plant against his neck.
!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who is the first member of staff to greet you on campus, standing in the doorframe of your empty classroom with his arms crossed over his chest. You pause what you were doing — which was reviewing your lesson plans — and turn to the mysterious man standing outside of your classroom. He greets you politely, clearing his throat after realizing that he might have been staring at you for a moment too long. You return his greeting, and a comfortable conversation flows between the both of you; it’s mostly him inquiring about your lesson plans.
!PROFESSOR HIGURUMA who enjoys the nights that you both spend grading together. You sit beside him with your legs propped up on his lap, essays piled high on top of your legs while he quietly scans over the last few tests that he had procrastinated. On the coffee table are your unfinished cups of tea, sugar completely dissolved and milk creating a swirl across the top of the tea. The silence is comfortable, occasionally filled by the sound of a turning page or a hum that rumbles up from the back of his throat.
!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who adores when you sit beside him to go through the pictures he’s taken on his laptop, offhandedly commenting on how many candid shots he has of you (three folders to be exact). Your chin is resting on the top of his head, eyes trained on the pictures that he tries so hard to click quickly through. His cheeks are burning red, not that you can really see them from your position above him. You want to tease him, but pause at one of the pictures. It’s of you on your latest date, body half-turned to look at him with a bright smile painted onto your face. You think you look terrible, but with the way he gazes at the same picture, you could have hung the moon and stars.
!PHOTOGRAPHER INO who never misses an opportunity to capture precious moments with his camera. Each date you go on, you can bet that he’s going to be snapping photo after photo to “commemorate the moment.” In reality, you know he’s just gathering pictures of you, but the thought behind it all is so pure-hearted and tooth-rot-tingly sweet. Nine times out of ten, he’ll pick his favorite from the night and frame it, gifting it to you after the night’s over.
!ROYALTY YUUTA who can feel his heart momentarily stop in his chest the moment that he sees you standing at the top of the palace steps, dress sparkling in the light provided by the ballroom’s grand chandelier. He watches you carefully as you descend the stairs, waving politely to the other patrons who greet you first. The warmth in his chest transfers to his cheeks as you approach him, greeting him with a gentle peck and a smile that has him weak in the knees. He regains himself quickly however, offering you his hand and asking you to dance — an offer that only a fool would decline.
!ROYALTY YUUTA who is all smiles and giggles when you sneak out of your room to join him in the palace’s darkened hallways. He tugs at your hand as you both sneak past the various guards that are stationed throughout the palace’s second floor. He turns to you with a finger pressed against his lips, smiling in response to your own as he finally sneaks you into the palace’s grand library, where the both of you remain until sunrise and the king and queen go searching for their son and his betrothed.
!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who makes it very known that you are his beautiful, stunning girlfriend. Yes, you’re set as his wallpaper (on both his laptop AND his phone). Yes, he references you in almost every conversation that he has. Yes, he’ll hold your hand in the crowded halls and sit next to you during the class that you both just so happen to share. No, he has no shame in hugging you tightly in public. No, he has no shame in kissing you and emphasizing it with a disgusting “mwah!”.
!COLLEGE STUDENT TOGE who memorizes your coffee order and, before class every day, surprises you with it along with a small pastry. Does it absolutely ruin his bank account? Sure. But is there anything that could ever compare to your smile and the kiss you lay against his cheek in thanks? Absolutely not. He would gladly run his bank account into the ground if it meant making your Monday mornings just a touch brighter.
!BARISTA YUUJI who swears up and down that he doesn’t have a favorite regular — besides you that is. He swears that he doesn’t remember your coffee order at all … and yet it’s always waiting on the pickup side of the register when you walk in. He swears that he has no idea who you are … and yet he perks up like an excited dog when the coffee shop’s bell dings at 9:15 every morning. No, he definitely doesn’t have a favorite regular.
!BARISTA YUUJI who adores when you accompany him during his closing shifts, waiting patiently at your designated table and watching as he finishes up any nightly tasks. He jingles the keys to the shop in your face when he’s finished, already asking you about your day and peppering your face with a flurry of kisses that you can never escape. His fingers lace into yours as he locks up, both of you already setting off down the sidewalk back to your apartment complex.
!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who promises you before his weekly visit that he won’t bring home another dog — knowing that your apartment was barely large enough to house the two Shepherd pups that he had brought home. He kisses the top of your head and promptly leaves before you’re able to get another word in … and deep down you know that he’s going to return with something. He can’t help it, and when he holds the puppy up to your eyes, you quickly understand why.
!SHELTER VOLUNTEER MEGUMI who all but melts when he comes home after a long day to see you and your (now) three dogs all curled up on the couch together. The two black-and-white shepherds are laying protectively in front of the couch while the newest little addition lays comfortably across your chest, little puppy snores rumbling in its nose. He has to resist the urge to take an unhealthy amount of pictures of you and the dogs — instead, he decides to silently lower himself to sit down and watch you. He reaches a finger out, stroking it over your cheek and smiling to himself … God, he was so absolutely in love with you.
"Darling? I'm home." Nanami's voice is soft as it sounds through the otherwise quiet apartment, his eyes roaming around the darkened room in search of you. His sentence is met with silence, a silence that only makes Nanami smile softly to himself.
He walks through the entranceway of the apartment, down the narrow pseudo-hallway that connects the rest of the apartment to the front door. His eyes roam the darkened apartment, taking a mental note of the dimmed lights and closed off curtains.
"Ken?"
His head turns at the nickname, his expression softening at the bundle of blankets on the couch. It rustles, and from it you peek out, sleepily blinking at him whilst your hair stands up every which way. You lift your wrist, rubbing away the last bits of sleep from your eyes as Nanami closes the small distance between the both of you.
Once close enough, he reaches out for you, thumb lovingly stroking your cheek. His heart warms as you nuzzle further into him, your smaller hand covering his own, thumb stroking the backside of his knuckles. The silence that hangs over the two of you is comfortable, drenched in a love that feels like it was written by a world-class poet.
"Yes darling, I'm home," Nanami says to you, his voice a gentle whisper so as not to disrupt your slightly sleepy state. You smile again at him, shifting your body to create a space for him on the couch, one which he takes without question.
You throw your blankets around yourself and Nanami, scooting closer to his chest. Your head comes to rest just underneath his chin, arms wrapped lightly around his midsection. He sighs in content, cheek resting against the top of your head as you wiggle around to get yourself comfortable.
"Missed you," you mutter, your sleepiness creeping back into your senses. Your eyelids feel heavy again, blinking become more of a task than an involuntary action. Nanami only smiles to himself at the realization that you were slowly drifting back off to sleep, his fingers rubbing gentle circles into the small of your back.
His lips find your head, pressing gentle pecks along your hairline. You nuzzle impossibly further into him, arms squeezing around his midsection as you rest comfortably against him. He continues to hold you, stroking the skin of your back and listening as your breaths slowly begin to deepen.
Nanami glances down at you, smiling to himself at your closed eyes and slightly parted lips. His arms momentarily squeeze you, lips pressing affectionately to the top of your head as he holds you just that much closer.
He smiles to himself, wondering just how lucky he had gotten to have found you.
JJK SMAU Requests!!
Hey everyone, I understand it’s been a very long time since I’ve uploaded a piece to this blog. But I thought I should try my hand at SMAUs, considering that they don’t take nearly as much time as writing and editing a full piece (for me anyway).
If you’d like, you can leave a request for any kind of SMAU that you’d like to see, I’m open to any and all suggestions.
- colonelarr0w
TOJI who comes home late from work to a silent house. All of the lights in the house are off, the only source of illumination being the flickering screen of the television, and even that is stuck on a multicolored SOURCE UNKNOWN screen.
“Baby? Y’in here?” he calls out to the empty living room, eyebrows furrowing in a mixture of confusion and concern as he toes off his shoes.
He continues through the silent apartment, dutifully checking each room before finally standing in the doorframe of the master bedroom. Against his better judgement, Toji’s lips turn upward at the sight that lies in front of him.
Toji approaches the bed, sitting at its edge and being careful to not accidentally crush your legs underneath the weight of his body.
You look so peaceful wrapped up in the sheets of your shared bed, lips parted in gentle breaths with that tiny line of drool trickling down from the corner of your mouth.
He reaches a finger out, stroking the back of it against your cheek and grinning to himself as you subconsciously move closer to the warmth radiating from his skin.
“Fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, lowering himself to lay across from you. He opens his arms, scooping you into them and tucking your head into the crook of his neck.
You hum sleepily against his skin, eyes fluttering open as your arms wind around his midsection, followed then by your legs tangling with his own.
“Hi baby,” you murmur, bleary eyes blinking up at him as he cranes his neck to gaze down at you.
“Hey,” he mutters, laying a kiss against your forehead and grinning to himself as you snuggle closer to him. “Sleepy?”
“Mhm. Tried t’wait up.”
His chest warms at your words, arms momentarily squeezing you. He’d never admit it to anyone — he’d rather die than say it aloud … but you made him so incredibly soft.
Only you. Only you.
soft dom gojo 💔
Sypnosis - Gojo being a soft dom, that's it, that's the tweet.
Warning(s) - suggestive themes, foul language, THIS PIECE IS LITERALLY ABOUT GOJO BEING A SOFT DOM EXPECT ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING
A/N - Thank you Anon...as if I don't already think about this man an unhealthy amount.
Read the Aggressive Dom version here!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
!Soft Dom Gojo, who treats you with so much respect. He treats you as if you’re the woman who hung the moon and the stars, as if you’re the woman responsible for all of creation. To him, you are absolutely everything, and he is definitely not afraid to voice any of that.
!Soft Dom Gojo, who worships your body like a sacred temple. He’ll lay you down and place little kisses against any bit of skin that he can reach. Typically, he starts at your head, then he peppers your face in those featherlight kisses that bring butterflies to your stomach. Slowly, they get lower and lower, his lips brushing against your chest, then your stomach, and of course, between your legs — where he will stay until you’re whining and begging him to get off.
!Soft Dom Gojo, who won’t hold back his praise when he fucks you. His hands will be grasping your hips firmly, eyes fixated on the ripple of your hips when his snap to make contact. Your eyes are screwed shut, moans falling from your parted lips at just how deep he goes with every thrust. His lips are right beside your ear, whispering “good girl”’s and “you’re doing so well”’s like they’re his own personal mantras.
!Soft Dom Gojo, who always puts your pleasure over his own. To him, getting you off also gets him off. Hearing your little whimpers and moans when he’s nestled between your legs has his cock straining in his pants — that which leads to him grinding against the bed while his tongue flicks at your clit.
!Soft Dom Gojo, who can and will overstimulate you while uttering the sweetest and softest praises. His fingers are pumping in and out of you at a borderline unbearable pace while his tongue flicks at your swollen clit. You had orgasmed — what — three or four times? You honestly didn’t know, you had lost count after orgasm number two. Your hands are tangled in his hair, little gasps and broken moans falling from your lips. A thin line of drool trickles down your chin — the sight of you so fucked out almost has Gojo cumming on the spot.
!Soft Dom Gojo, who never skips aftercare. The minute that your body relaxes against the sheets, Gojo stands from the bed and moves towards the bathroom. There he runs a hot bath and grabs one of the small hand towels folded on the side of the sink. He returns to your side, running the towel over you, smiling slightly to himself as you shiver from the sensitivity. He shushes you, hooking his arms around you and lifting you. You both share a bath, your back to his chest as he softly washes your hair and body, being careful to not accidentally brush over any part of you that may be too sensitive.
We <3 !Soft Dom Gojo in this house.
Hiiii i really like reading some angst stuffs so heres my idea loll!
What about reader never felt like they were ever loved romantically and has been quite the loner for a while. So, to have Gojo confess to the reader has reader confused, but quite happy, but will soon find out that its a dare and Gojo only has the end of the year to make reader date him! (Just say the current month is near december loll)
But as time goes by, Gojo starts to actually have feelings for reader and suddenly reader overheard their convo of Gojo with his friends about the dare...
(PLS IM SORRY IF THIS IS TOO SPECIFIC THISIS ONE OF MY FIRST TIMES REQUESTING SMTHHH. BTW YOU CAN CHANGE THE GOJO TO ANYONE ELSE :3AND ALSO YOU CAN CHOOSE WETHER TO HAVE COMFORT OR NAH. AND THANKS FOR GIVING YOUR TIME TO READ THIS HAVE A NICE DAYY)
-🍰
Sypnosis - Gojo was already known to be a heartbreaker, but you didn't stop to think for a second that maybe -- just maybe -- he was trying to break your heart too.
Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, Gojo is a MAJOR dick in this one, angst
Word Count - 3.1k
A/N - Hi Anon! (STOP IM CRYING I LOVE EMOJI ANONS SO MUCH) So you made the mistake of giving me an angst prompt while also saying that I could maybe add comfort. I will be doing no such thing. Kisses!
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Satoru Gojo was, by every single standard, a lady’s man.
And you, by every single standard, were the complete opposite of every man’s “ideal type”.
How you managed to find yourself in a situation where you told others, “I’m dating Satoru Gojo,” felt like a fever dream constructed by the hardest drug.
The way in which he asked you out was — well — Satoru Gojo. A grand white banner with your name scrawled into it, underneath it the words: Go out with me?
Of course you accepted, though you were thoroughly confused. You had always been an observer from the shadows, not emerging unless it was absolutely necessary.
To have the Satoru Gojo ask you out in front of a gaggle of people was off putting — and certainly not anything that you had expected.
But none of that stopped you from saying yes, which made the snowy-haired male’s smile widen three times in size — if that was even possible.
“C’mon Satoru, it’s an easy 2,500 Yen,” Geto says, a sly smirk curling the corner of his mouth upward as he leans over the back of the couch.
Gojo sighs, jutting out his bottom lip as one of his hands busies itself with running through his hair. It wasn’t a terrible bet — even though the payoff didn’t exactly feel worth it.
“2,500 Yen to ask her out?” Gojo confirms, turning his head and glancing over the rims of his glasses. Geto smirks again, turning his phone and flashing a picture of you at Gojo, just to make sure that he would be asking out the right person.
“2,500 Yen,” Geto nods. Gojo sighs, his body slumping forward dramatically. Geto grins again, watching his best friend crack down — no way was he turning down a bet that he could easily secure.
“Fine, you have a deal,” Gojo holds his hand out, failing to hold back the smirk that curls his mouth upward as Geto slaps his hand against Gojo’s.
The two shake on it, and the bet is made.
But, of course, you were oblivious to all of that. You believed that, for the very first time, someone looked at you in a way that wasn’t strictly platonic. Someone loved you — really, truly loved you.
And what an extravagant partner Gojo was, buying you small trinkets that he believed you would like, taking you to restaurants that you had looked at on the street for a moment too long — he had even forced himself to learn how to ice skate because you mentioned offhandedly that it would be nice to skate with someone.
For the first time in a very long time, you felt connected to someone. Conversations flowed so easily between you both, never forced or uncomfortable. It was as if you had known each other your entire lives.
Gojo knew that it was fake — you thought it was truly real.
< … >
“(Y/N)! There you are!” Gojo calls out with a flashy wave of his arm. Once you’re in reach of him, he latches onto you, nose nuzzling into your hair.
You let out a startled squeak at the force of his body against yours, but immediately loosen up and return his embrace, snuggling as deeply as you can into his arms.
“Satoru!” you laugh out breathlessly, squeezing his shoulders as he lifts you from the ground, easily spinning the both of you in a circle. “You act like you haven’t seen me in years.”
Gojo rolls his eyes dramatically, setting you down but keeping his arms locked around your waist. He gaze meets yours through the darkened lenses of his glasses, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Oh god, I know that look,” you mutter teasingly, which earns you an affectionate pinch to your side — one that you swat him away for.
“You wound me,” Gojo sasses back, releasing you only to place a hand flat against his chest as if he had been stabbed. You roll your eyes, laughing breathily at his antics.
“What do you want to do tonight? It’s date night,” you remind him, watching as his face breaks into a bright smile. He reaches for you again, lifting your hand and twirling you around before he tugs you to his chest.
“I was thinking-“ he begins in a sing-song tone. You raise an eyebrow at him, which he quickly leans in to peck. “-we go to the movies, get some cheap froyo, and crash in your dorm.”
You smile at him, eyes crinkling adorably at the corners as you throw your arms around his neck, squeezing him.
“Yes please!”
< … >
“The movies? Froyo? God, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re falling for her,” Geto mocks the motion of throwing up, earning a laugh from the snowy-haired boy that stands next to him.
Gojo rolls his eyes, catching the basketball that Geto throws at his chest. He bounces it once against the ground before taking a shot, smirking as it swishes inaudibly into the basket.
“I want her to at least believe it,” Gojo responds with an indifferent shrug of his shoulders. Geto rolls his eyes, biting back the chuckle that rises in his throat. “What? I’m not lying.”
“No, I know you’re not lying,” Geto bends to pick up the abandoned basketball, bouncing it against the ground and taking a shot of his own — which misses.
“So then why the sudden comment?”
“Because of the look in your eyes whenever someone mentions her or whenever you see her,” Geto says plainly, turning to cross his arms at Gojo.
He purses his lips together, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he silently urges Geto to continue. How he looks at you?
Geto sighs through his nose, then lifting his fingers to pinch at its bridge. The basketball is long abandoned now, rolling into the center of the gym and remaining there.
“Every time she calls out to you with that — stupid nickname, you brighten up like a dog who’s seeing his owner,” Geto points out. Gojo can feel the tips of his ears burn red at that — because even he knew that it was true.
“Toru! There you are!” you call out affectionately, crossing the training fields and practically jumping into Gojo’s awaiting arms.
He smiles warmly as your face nestles into the junction between his neck and shoulder, breathing in the familiarity of your scent and holding you close to him.
“That isn’t true,” he murmurs, scratching at the back of his neck. Geto stands still for a moment, staring at Gojo with a look that could easily slaughter an entire town.
“No? How about when she made you lunch that one time?” Geto raises his eyebrow — his eyes visually calling bullshit as Gojo’s cheeks burn the same shade of red as his ears.
“Ta-da!” you smile widely as you present Gojo with the intricately put-together bento box. He takes it from your hands, allowing his fingers to brush against your own for a moment too long — an action that brought a light blush to your cheeks.
He smiles down at the bento you had prepared for him, feeling his heart swell at the idea that someone cared enough about him to sit down and put so much thought into preparing him a lunch. Gojo is quick to then lean in, pecking your cheek and smiling widely at the dark red hue that coats your face.
“That’s…different,” Gojo tries to argue, but Geto is quick to call out his bluff, laughing loudly in his friend’s face and striding towards the center of the gym to retrieve the abandoned basketball. He bends, scooping it into his palms and bouncing it twice against the ground.
“Oh, I’m sure that it is,” Geto rolls his eyes, twisting his body and shooting the basketball — already displaying annoyance when it misses yet again.
Gojo sighs, the puff of air he releases blowing his bangs from his face. He watches as Geto goes to retrieve the basketball, bouncing it once before roughly checking it to Gojo.
“Careful Satoru, I wouldn’t want you to fall for her,” Geto teases, feeling himself smirk as Gojo’s hands catch the basketball. The snowy-haired male rolls his eyes in response, bouncing the ball.
“That won’t happen, trust me,” Gojo bites back, not failing to notice the knowing glint in Geto’s eyes.
“Sure it won’t.”
< … >
Hey! I’m at the theatre, where are you?
READ
Satoru?
READ
I’m just assuming you’re running late, just text me when you’re here!
DELIVERED
Puffing out the air that you held in your cheeks, you stow your phone away into your pocket, eyes silently scanning the front entrance of the theatre. Maybe you missed him? No, there was no tuft of snowy-white hair anywhere in the crowd — surely he was just running late.
You shuffle on your feet, adjusting the small bag that you had brought with you. The interior is stuffed with snacks that both you and Gojo enjoyed — including his favorite from the local convenience store. You smile to yourself, already picturing the wide smile that would cross his face when you presented him with the snacks.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket, which you all but dive for with a speed that feels almost inhuman. You stare down at the illuminated screen, heart deflating as you realize it’s only a message from your mother, checking in and asking you how your date with Gojo was going.
Lifting a shaky hand to your eyes, you wipe away the tears that cling to your bottom lash line. You text your mother back, lying to her about the state of the date and pushing your phone back into your pockets. You glance back down at your open purse, blinking back your tears at the sight of the snacks — what a waste.
< … >
“Sato—“
You pause just outside of the classroom doors, resting your palms against the sliding door and peering curiously inside. Your eyebrows pinch together, eyes narrowing as you listen intently to the conversation shared between Gojo and Geto, both of whom seemed to be in the middle of — maybe — arguing with one another.
“How much longer am I keeping this up for?” Gojo all but whines, leaning back in the seat that he was occupying, his feet propped up on the desk as he releases an annoyed huff.
Geto chuckles, rubbing a hand over his face as he sits on the desk directly in front of Gojo, folding his legs over one another and smirking down at his best friend. Gojo sighs, blowing his bangs out of his face as he leans forward, his sunglasses slightly slipping down the bridge of his nose.
“Why? Getting bored?” Geto raises an eyebrow at Gojo, lifting his arms to cross them firmly over his chest. Gojo rolls his eyes yet again, releasing a deepened sigh that only has Geto releasing the chuckle that he had been holding in.
“I’m getting tired,” Gojo mocks a dramatic yawn, throwing his arms into the air and leaning back in his chair. Geto raises an eyebrow at the answer, curious now.
“Tired?”
“Exhausted. I don’t think you understand Suguru, she’s so desperately clingy and just — I can’t keep up with it,” Gojo explains in exasperation, rubbing his hands over his face and digging his fingers into the skin of this temples, rubbing them in slow circles.
You feel your heart crack the more that Gojo speaks — listening quietly as he lists off all of the things that he seemingly hates about you. Your eyes burn with tears, and suddenly every ounce of love that you ever felt for Gojo seep out of you in waves.
Had he felt that way about you the whole time?
“Hey, you were the one that said yes. You could’ve dropped the bet,” Geto shrugs his shoulders, an action that earns him an annoyed kick from Gojo.
“It’s 2,500 Yen. I’m not saying no to that,” Gojo reminds his friend, waving a finger in his face. Geto chuckles breathily, but pauses at an unfamiliar sound — a choked cry. His head whips around in an attempt to locate the source of the sound, feeling his heart drop to the deepest depths of his stomach at the sight of a retreating figure by the classroom's doors.
Gojo follows Geto's wandering gaze, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the sudden change in his friend's facial expression. "Shit." Is all that Geto says before he moves to the door, peering out of it just in time to see your figure turn the farthest corner of the hallway – then vanishing.
Geto's eyes flicker to meet Gojo's as the latter leans his chin onto Geto's shoulder, staring at the spot that you had just disappeared from.
"What happened?" Gojo inquires curiously, not failing to notice the way that Geto's spine stands as stiff as cardboard. The dark-haired male swallows the lump in his throat – they were both royally fucked.
"We're fucked."
< ... >
"There, there, c'mon (Y/N), don't let this--"
"He lied to me!" You rub your hands roughly over your tear-filled eyes, feeling your chest tighten as you look away from Utahime's concerned gaze. Her eyebrows furrow together in worry, eyes silently taking you in as you curl into yourself.
She would be lying if she said that she wasn't downright pissed at what Gojo had done to you. After listening to your tearful ramble about what you heard, any and all respect that she had for her snowy-haired classmate went completely out of the window.
Not that there was much respect there in the first place.
"So how much of what he said did he actually mean?" Your voice is a broken cry, trembling in a way that has Utahime reaching out to comfortingly lace her fingers with your own.
"I don't know," she whispers in response, not knowing how to help you. You turn your head away from her, sniffing and wiping your nose with the cloth of your sleeve. "I'm sorry (Y/N)."
You shake your head, breath trembling as you grip at your knees. You screw your eyes shut, still seeing his affectionate smile behind your eyelids – you wish that you could forget it completely. You can still feel him too; you can feel his arms wrapped around you and his lips as they press affectionately to your cheek.
You begin to wonder how much effort he actually put into your dates, you begin to wonder if his affectionate touches were genuine, you begin to wonder if it was him writing his text messages out or if it was someone else entirely. Did he ever care about you?
"Hey."
You glance up at Utahime, sniffling quietly as she reaches a hand out, laying her palm against your cheek and thumbing away the stray tears that roll down your cheeks. Her heart breaks at the sight of you – but her heart also yells angrily at the idea that Gojo would toy with you for a measly 2,500 Yen.
She knew that he was an asshole – everyone did. But she didn't think he was that big of an asshole.
"How about me and you go out? I'll even text Mei Mei and Shoko," Utahime offers, smiling again at you. You sniffle, cheeks reddened by your tears. Your eyes are puffy, lashes still wet with tears that take their sweet time in dripping down your face.
"Can we stay in instead?"
Utahime nods, smiling again at you. Her arms extend, wrapping around you and tugging you into her chest, squeezing affectionately at you. You sink into her embrace, face pressed comfortably into her shoulder.
"Yeah, of course we can."
< ... >
"You're such a dick!" Utahime yells in a fit of rage, shoving her hands against Gojo's chest and glaring daggers at him as he stumbles backwards. He stares at her incredulously, eyebrows raised to a point that his forehead is wrinkled five times over.
He hadn't expected this behavior from the usually calm and collected girl – but the way that she had stormed at him screaming her head off told him that he had royally screwed up.
Over his shoulder, Geto watches knowingly. He knows that he'll likely be yelled at too, so in mental preparation, he remains completely silent, not wanting Utahime to turn her rage on him prematurely.
"What is this about?" Gojo asks genuinely, his eyes narrowed in confusion as Utahime angrily takes a step back from him, restraining herself from actively strangling him.
"What is this – so you just have no idea what you did to (Y/N)? God, you're dense!" Utahime all but screams, throwing her hands up in a fit of rage.
Gojo narrows his eyes, then they widen – shit. How the fuck did you find out?
"What do you mean?" He pauses for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "What about (Y/N)?"
"Oh, don't act so clueless! You know exactly what I'm talking about!" Utahime jabs a finger at Gojo's chest, her eyes burning with a rage that he had genuinely never seen in her before. She takes a brave step towards him – in return, he takes a step back.
"I don't--"
"Does 2,500 Yen sound familiar to you?" Utahime raises an eyebrow at him. He deadpans, swallowing the growing lump in his throat and feeling his heart sink.
His silence tells her everything that she needs to know. She straightens, shooting a pointed glare to Geto as well – resulting in him looking anywhere but her direction, gaze flickering around wildly.
She turns her attention back to Gojo, looking him up and down with an expression of nothing but pure disgust. He winces at the glint in her eyes – God, he had really screwed up.
"You're both disgusting," Utahime spits venomously, then turning on her heel and promptly striding away from both males. Gojo turns, exchanging a worried yet remorseful glance in Geto's direction. His friend only swallows, they had both royally screwed up.
< ... >
Gojo suffered with the aftermath of you hearing his conversation – you avoided him like he had been infected with some kind of infectious disease. Any room he entered, you exited. Any time he called out your name with a polite wave, you turned your nose up and continued walking.
In a way, you pretended that he simply didn't exist – that the person waving to you or trying to interact with you was nothing but a phantom, one that you ignored as if it was the only thing that you knew how to do.
"(Y/N)! Hey, can we--"
You stride past him, shoulder knocking against his own as you exit the classroom. He stands silently at its center, lowering his hand back to his side – he had wanted to reach out for you, but something inside of him told him to simply leave you be.
And the day that he saw you happily hanging off of Nanami's arm was the day that he realized – loving someone from afar was the worst pain of all.
JJK- Hiromi x bratty! intelligent! reader with a smart mouth and a lack of self preservation. Hiromi’s a patient man but there’s only so many bratty comments he can take before he’s bending her over his knee and putting her in her place. maybe soft sex and praise after.
i headcanon him as a man who wears rings, take from that what you will. 😉
Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - None, this is just smut.
A/N - First time writing for Higuruma! I actually continued reading the JJK manga specifically for him, and honestly, I'd like to write for him more.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Slap!
"What? You really thought that I'd let you get away with makin' snide little comments like that?" Hiromi's voice is a gentle brush against your ear, his teeth nibbling at your lobe and tugging down on it just hard enough to make you moan out in both pain and pleasure.
He smooths his hand over the curve of your ass, the cool metal of the rings he wore soothing the light burn that his repeated slaps had left behind. His lips turn upward in a smirk, half-lidded eyes flickering to meet your own as your back arches into him, tiny whines falling from your parted lips.
"What? Was someone jealous?" Your tone is teasing as you tilt your head in Hiromi's direction, smirking at him as his hand stills against your skin, a shiver running up your spine at the borderline predatory look that glazes over his eyes.
Roughly, Hiromi turns your body around, hands squeezing firmly at the skin of your hips as your chest presses flush against his own. His lips ghost over your own, quirking up in a shit-eating smirk as your mouth chases his. A whine leaves your parted lips as he leans back from you, denying you of the one thing that you were so desperately craving – him.
"C'mon Hiromi," you breathe out, voice a tiny bit whiny in that way that he loved. He chuckles, his breath fanning over your face as he brings himself just a touch closer to you, the tips of your noses brushing against one another.
"Awe, now we're begging? What happened to that snappy little attitude you had before? Tell me where that went," Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, eyes flickering down to your lips before they return to your half-lidded gaze.
You remain silent, your arms wound around his neck. In an attempt to break him, you trace your fingernails along his nape, smirking at the shiver that it sends up his spine. He sighs, and you know that you've successfully broken him – he couldn't hold himself back from you for too long anyway. If anything, he wanted you just as much as you wanted him...if not more.
"Thought you liked my little attitude," you grin, tilting your head and moaning quietly into Hiromi's mouth as his lips crash onto yours, unable to hold himself back any longer. One of his hands lifts to cradle the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
His teeth playfully nip at your bottom lip, smirking down at you as you pull back from him. Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze glazed over with lust as Hiromi’s hands begin to roam your body again — one hand resting on your ass while the other hikes up your thigh to wrap your leg over his waist.
His head dips down, lips just barely grazing the skin of your neck. His teeth drag over your pulse points, a chuckle rumbling in his throat as your back arches, chest pressing impossibly further into his own.
“You’ll be the death of me, y’know that?” Hiromi murmurs against you, his hands roaming lower until his palms roughly grope at your ass. A shocked moan falls from your parted lips, eyes momentarily falling shut as you press yourself further into Hiromi.
One of his hands begins to shift, fingers running over your soaked panties and smirking at the slickness that seeps through the lace. “Well isn’t that something?”
You sigh, head falling forward so that your forehead grazes the expensive fabric of Hiromi’s suit, desperately whining. Your hips shift, searching for friction against his fingers — friction that he doesn’t grant you.
“Hiromi please,” you rut your hips against nothing, Hiromi’s fingers had already moved from where they were teasing you. “Fuck.”
Hiromi smirks, his hands gripping at your hips and steering you to the seat in his office. You gasp, the backs of your legs hitting against the leather seat before you’re sitting down, staring up at Hiromi.
“What happened? Thought we were bolder than this,” Hiromi comments with a tilt of his head, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, fingers tapping teasingly against your thighs.
“Fuck…you,” you pant out, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth as Hiromi slowly lifts up the skirt that you had decided to surprise him with — a dangerous choice, really.
“Oh honey,” Hiromi grins like the Cheshire Cat, “you aren’t doin’ any of that.”
Your chest heaves as you glance down at Hiromi, who had already taken the liberty of tugging your panties to the side, running the tip of his index finger over your folds — collecting your slick on his skin with another smirk.
He swirls his finger over your clit, just barely touching it and smirking to himself as your head falls back, desperate moans falling from your parted lips.
“Pretty little thing,” he murmurs, replacing his finger with his tongue. Your hands fly instinctively to his hair, tugging at the roots and biting back a scream as he sucks your clit between his lips. Your fingernails dig into his scalp, scratching at it – that earns you a groan from the man beneath you. The vibration sends a delicious tingle through you, another desperate moan falling from your lips.
“Hiromi,” you whimper, body jolting forward as his hands lay flat against your thighs, the cool metal of his rings sending shivers through you.
You can feel his lips turn upward in a smirk against your skin, his tongue stopping and his head pulling back from its place between your thighs. You whine out at the sudden loss of contact, trying desperately to tug him back to you.
“Oh you’re in no state to be demanding princess,” Hiromi all but purrs, rising from his place and glancing up at you. Your chest heaves in desperate, panting breaths, fingers still tangled in Hiromi’s hair. You don’t dare to tug on the strands, not wanting to face a more unbearable punishment than what you were already being subjected to.
His hands swiftly lift up your skirt, hands running over the curves of your hips. You shiver, the cool metal of his rings starkly contrasting with the little flames that had already erupted along your legs.
“Hiromi—“
“Shut it,” he purrs into your ear, one hand already undoing the buckle of his belt. You don’t dare to go against his word, not when he was riled up and ready to make sure that you weren’t able to walk come the next morning. “I don’t wanna hear another word outta that disrespectful little mouth.”
You press your lips together, whining as he rubs himself along your entrance, his tip just barely teasing your clit. You rut your hips against him, desperate for any little bit of friction. Hiromi’s hands shift to your waist, holding it roughly and effectively pausing your movements.
“C’mon now, thought you were smart enough to follow instructions,” Hiromi teases with a raise of his eyebrow, looking at the desperate expression painted onto your face. God, you looked fucking amazing.
You open your mouth to retaliate, wanting to be snarky, but Hiromi effectively cuts you off by pushing himself into you. You gasp out a whiny moan, screwing your eyes shut as he bottoms out, then shifting his hips back just enough to pull halfway out before he slams right back into you.
“Fuck!” you squeal, moaning as Hiromi lifts your legs and folds you into a wonky attempt at a mating press. He groans, then picking up the pace and rutting his hips into you. “H-Hiromi!”
He grins, reaching a hand down to press two fingers against your clit, circling it quickly. Your pussy flutters around him, which makes his own eyes roll into the back of his head. “Fuck princess, always takin’ me — so fuckin’ well,” he pants into your neck, biting lightly down onto your pulse point.
“S-shit! Nghh — Hiromi,” you moan wantonly, not even caring if any of his coworkers happened to be passing by his office. You can feel him so deeply inside of you, his tip nearly kissing your cervix with each thrust of his hips. Your legs are pinned against your shoulders, toes curling as you feel that familiar knot begin to coil in your stomach.
“There we go princess,” Hiromi murmurs against you, relishing in the sound of his hips slapping against your own. His fingers pick up their pace over your clit, grinning as a choked moan gets caught in your throat. He leans up, pressing his lips to yours and promptly swallowing your moans.
His hips continue to slap against your own, tightening the coil in the bottom of your stomach. You whimper underneath him, head thrown back and eyes screwed tightly shut as moans of his name fall from your lips like a desperate plea.
He reaches down, thumb pressing against your clit before moving in quick circles over the bundle of nerves. You gasp out, back arching as your nails bite into his arms — wanting to push him away but at the same time craving the sparks of pleasure that his touch sends through you.
“Hiromi — fuck, ‘m cumming!” you mewl, lips parting in one last drawn out moan before you feel the coil in your stomach snap. Your pussy flutters over Hiromi’s cock, that which earns you a broken moan from the man hovering above you.
“Fuck princess,” he murmurs, hands bracing against your hips, the cool metal of his rings making you shiver. He glances up at you, smirking to himself at your fucked out expression and the way that your hair clings to your forehead.
Hiromi pulls out slowly, grinning to himself as you moan out at the empty feeling he leaves behind. Your chest heaves as you catch your breath, adjusting yourself only to groan inaudibly at the slight ache in your legs — a sight that Hiromi has the gall to breathily chuckle at.
“Y’alright there honey?” Hiromi inquires, resting a hand behind your back and helping you in sitting up. He flashes you an apologetic grin, one that you bite back your own smile at the sight of.
“M’fine,” you murmur, smiling tiredly at Hiromi. He nods understandingly, looking around his office before his attention returns to you. You chuckle, gesturing with your head towards his suit pocket. He rolls his eyes teasingly at you, then reaching into the previously mentioned pocket and removing a handkerchief.
“C’mon honey, spread them for me again,” Hiromi urges softly, nudging your knees. You raise an eyebrow playfully at him, a small smirk spreading across your face as you tilt your head.
“Already ready for round two Mr. Higuruma?”
Hiromi rolls his eyes at you, dabbing the handkerchief against your now exposed pussy, cleaning off the remnants of your visit to his office. “I would, but Miss Bratty ain’t up for it.”
You giggle, closing your eyes momentarily as Hiromi leans down to affectionately press his forehead against your own. He pulls back briefly, pecking your forehead.
“Can we get ramen?”
Hiromi sighs, hanging his head for a moment before smiling at you. “Alright honey, but don’t blame me if you can’t walk.”
“Hiromi!”