HII!! I Saw You Had Your Requests Open For Jjk, So Can I Request A Megumi Fic With A Reader Who Went

HII!! I saw you had your requests open for jjk, so can i request a megumi fic with a reader who went to the same middle school as him but was being bullied? And thats why megumi would always get in fights? Thank you!! ❤️

Sypnosis - Contrary to popular belief, there were very few things in the world that Megumi liked. One of those things happened to be you.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Megumi is a little shit, insecurities

A/N - Casually making this fic follow the "I hate everyone but you" trope, don't mind me.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

Groaning lightly, you continue to hold the ice pack over your blackened eye per the nurse's request. The cold does little to help with the dull pain, but considering that it was your fifth black eye that month, there was really nothing else that the nurse could do. She was sick of seeing you so often anyway. 

You shift uncomfortably in the too-small seat of the nurse's office, looking around at the two other students that sit in the office with you. Neither of them make eye contact with you – not that it bothers you in the slightest.  

Still lost in thought, you adjust the ice pack against your eye, feeling the skin beneath it slowly going numb at the cold sensation. It feels soothing enough, and it helps in distracting you from the dull ache that your black eye gives off.  

Your ears perk at the sound of the door to the office opening, expecting it to be another student looking for a remedy for some injury or a pass to skip their next class. But it’s neither of the two; it’s Megumi. 

“Fushiguro?” you ask with a perk of your eyebrow, eyeing him curiously as he crosses the room to you. His hands reach out, ripping the ice pack away from your eye. “Hey-!” 

“Stupid ass,” he mutters, inspecting your injury with his lip curled upward. His other hand holds your cheek, tilting your head left and right — likely inspecting to see if you had sustained any other injuries.  

“Nice to see you too,” you mutter sarcastically, rolling your eyes as Megumi places the ice pack against your eye again. You hiss at the sudden cold, and for a moment you can see a flicker of regret over Megumi’s expression.  

He ignores your sarcastic quip, turning his body halfway and dragging an empty seat behind him, lowering himself into it.  

“What happened this time?” he asks you, his voice low so that none of the other students in the office can overhear.  

“Nothin’, just some guys — you know how it is,” you answer truthfully, adjusting the ice pack. You can feel it already melting against your face — you’d have to change it in a little bit. 

Megumi lets out a small “tch”, his eyes glazing over with an anger that you were all too familiar with. You already knew what he was planning — or rather, who he was planning to beat within an inch of their life.  

“I’m gonna-“ 

“Can you not this time?” you cut him off. His gaze flickers to yours, stunned at your sudden boldness.  

“What?” You almost laugh at how genuinely confused he sounds, but you keep that same stern look on your face. You didn’t want to be the reason why someone went home with a broken nose — or worse.  

“I said, can you not this time? I don’t wanna be targeted again because you decided to thrash someone’s face in,” you explain, trying to keep your tone as level as possible. Megumi only stares back at you, looking at you as if you had suddenly sprouted another head.  

“I — was just trying to protect you,” he murmurs, already feeling an unfamiliar heat rise to his cheeks.  

With another roll of your eyes, you reach a hand out, placing it on top of his head and smiling at him. His eyebrows pinch together in confusion. 

“And I appreciate it. But it gets you in trouble,” you remind him. Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes, but oddly enough, he also smiles. 

“Yeah, yeah. But are you okay?” 

You nod, smiling and removing the ice pack from your eye. He winces at the sight of it, but he doesn’t comment. 

“I’m fine. You’re here now, aren’t you?” 

The tips of his ears burn pink — but you would never say anything about it. Your odd little protector. 

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

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

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

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

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

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

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

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

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

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

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

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

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

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

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

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

You'd always loved Suguru's voice.

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

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

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

"Good morning."

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

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

“Suguru?”  

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t need help. Everything is—“ 

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“Goodbye (Y/N).” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can we pretty please have Sukuna reacting to his crush telling him that thier lover cheated on them. Like the reader has been in a relationship with this person for a few months.

Would he comfort her? At all?

Also can I be‼️ anon

Sypnosis - He may be heartless, that doesn't mean he'll stand silently by and watch as you get yours broken.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, Sukuna is nice for once (?)

A/N - First time ever writing for Sukuna -- wish me luck! And yes, you can be that anon, I love you guys.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Brat, wipe those tears, you look pathetic," Sukuna says coldly, sneering at the sight of your tears running down your cheeks. You quickly lift your wrist, roughly rubbing the water from your eyes and turning yourself away from him.  

At the sight of you turning, oddly enough, he feels a strange sensation somewhere in his chest – what was it though? All he knew was that it wasn't anger, no, he couldn't find it in himself to be angry at you in that moment (shockingly).  

"Sorry," you mumble, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip in an attempt to silence your sobs, but the action does very little to prevent the shaking of your body. Sukuna notices, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.  

His head tilts at you; you had come to Yuuji asking for a movie night and snacks, which wasn't out of the ordinary. But what was out of the ordinary was that you showed up on Yuuji's doorstep crying.  

The fact that Yuuji relinquished control to Sukuna so easily was also shocking – but Sukuna was never one to complain about having control over what was rightfully his vessel.  

He lets out a small "tch" at your apology, turning himself away from you and crossing his arms over his chest. Some part of him wants to turn back around and inquire about what had happened – but at the same time he could genuinely care less. 

You remain silent in your place on the couch, knees curled up to your chest as you keep your watery eyes focused on the television, which plays a repeat of an old rom-com that you mentioned that you enjoyed. But from what Sukuna could see, the sight of the two main leads being happily in love is only worsening your mood – but why? 

Usually you would be smiling and chipper, pointing out everything that the male lead did for the female with a too-sweet smile plastered onto your face. But now you were just staring at the screen with a look that Sukuna couldn't describe – and he despised it.  

`"What's going on? You're never this silent, I detest it," Sukuna comments, angrily scrunching his nose as he turns sharply to glance at you. Your hands tighten over your knees, eyebrows pinching together as you bite back the fresh round of tears that cling to your lash line.  

"Nothin' happened. Jus' wanted to come over and watch a movie," you lie through your teeth, voice slightly muffled from where you keep your mouth pressed against your clothed legs. Sukuna clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, glaring at you.  

"Liar." 

"I'm not lying." 

"You are. I only know because you're fucking terrible at it," Sukuna spits, furrowing his eyebrows together in frustration as you look away from him again. Your eyes water, and you lift your wrist to swipe away the tears before they have the chance to fall – remembering what Sukuna had just said about them rendering you 'pathetic'.  

"Nothin' happened. Even if something did, why would it matter to you?" Your voice is laced with a bitterness that Sukuna hadn't heard in you before – and honestly, he didn't think that you were capable of sounding so cold.  

"It doesn't. I just don't wanna deal with your sulking," Sukuna rolls his eyes, resting his cheek against his knuckles as he sneaks another glance at you. You seem to sink further into the couch – there's that sensation again. What the fuck was it? 

You remain silent, keeping your eyes fixed on the movie, which is nearing its conclusion. The male lead tenderly reaches for the female, holding her face and steering her lips to his own. Sukuna notices your nails digging into your legs, no doubt leaving behind angry red marks that you would complain about later.  

"So talk." 

You glance at Sukuna, narrowing your eyes at the unfamiliar tenderness that flickers in his irises. Your eyes involuntarily water, eyebrows furrowing together as you look back to the television screen.  

"Nothin'. My boyfriend – he just, y'know, got bored of me. Guess my best friend looked better," you explain offhandedly, obviously trying to downplay the situation for the sake of not working yourself up. But Sukuna could tell that the situation deeply bothered you, judging by the way you blink back your tears and curl your arms impossibly tighter around your legs.  

Sukuna's hands subconsciously curl into white-knuckled fists, anger flaring up in his chest as he mulls your words over in his head. He shocks himself – why did he care so much about what happened to you? Why did he suddenly have the overwhelming urge to strangle the life out of your now ex-boyfriend? 

"He what?" Sukuna all but growls, turning his head to settle all of his attention on you. You, however, don't spare him another glance, not wanting to see his mocking expression or the smirk that he's most definitely wearing in response to your sadness.  

A shame that if you had looked up, you would see the genuine anger that Sukuna displays.  

"Wasn't slick about it either, but it's whatever," you say with faux indifference, shrugging your shoulders. You sigh shakily, tears slipping down your cheeks as the movie in front of you ends. "It's whatever Sukuna." 

"It can't be whatever if you're staining the couch with tears," Sukuna bites back, glaring at you – though his anger is very clearly directed elsewhere. You let out a shaky sigh through your nose, not wanting to discuss the situation further.  

"Well it is whatever, so fucking drop it," you growl out, voice wavering slightly as you reach for the television remote, flicking through channels until you land on some random documentary, opting to leave it on for background noise. 

Sukuna grumbles something incoherent, lifting his legs to cross them over one another as he sits silently on the couch across from you. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to sneak glances at you, taking mental notes of your body language and facial expressions.  

"I'm...sorry that he did that to you," Sukuna grumbles out, his voice at a volume that you nearly miss. The tenderness in his voice is so foreign, but at the same it sounds so natural coming from him – almost like he had rehearsed this very scene a thousand times over in his head.  

You sit there stunned for a moment, not having expected Sukuna to be offering you his condolences. In truth, you didn't need them, nor did you want them – but the fact that he had softened up for a passing moment to say those words to you brought a little bought of warmth to your stomach.  

"It's whatever," you say again, this time with a bit more indifference than before. Sukuna finds himself smirking, which he tries to hide but to no real avail – you catch it just before it fades away.  

He'll pay your ex-boyfriend a visit later, right now, he wants you to keep that barely there smile on your face. 

“Baby? It’s late, what are you still doing up?” Suguru asks drowsily from the doorframe that connects your bedroom to the kitchen. He lifts a hand to his eyes, flicking away the last bits of sleep that still cling desperately to his eyelashes.  

You turn to face him with a smile, patterned oven mitt covering one of your hands. In your hand is a steaming tray of cookies, snickerdoodle to be specific. “Well it was supposed to be a surprise, but I made you cookies.” 

Suguru’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion as he walks into the kitchen, glancing curiously at the tray that you lay out over the stovetop, then removing the oven mitt and opening your arms to him. He steps easily into them, wrapping his broad arms around your waist and allowing you to tuck your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his familiar scent.  

“What’d you make me cookies for?” he inquires curiously, tilting his head at you as you step back from his embrace, then folding your hands behind your back. Your lips curl upward in a soft smile, one that he mirrors almost immediately after seeing your own. He couldn’t help it — you always looked so soft around him.  

You bite your lip in thought for a moment, shuffling on your feet as your eyes flick to the still cooling cookies. Suguru watches you intently, still slightly confused.  

“Well…I overheard you talking with Satoru yesterday — you were complaining that the Curses you consume leave a sour taste in your mouth,” you begin, fiddling with your fingers as your gaze momentarily leaves Suguru. Your nails pick at a hangnail, but you don’t tug on it hard enough to remove it.  

“I thought that maybe making something sweet would — you know — get rid of the taste for a little bit.” 

Suguru softens, his lips turning upward in a smile as he reaches his fingers out, tilting your head so that your gaze finally meets his own. He leans down, pecking your forehead softly.  

“Thank you,” he whispers, bringing his forehead down so that it connects with your own. You smile, placing your hand against the one that he has resting on your cheek, stroking a finger over the backs of his knuckles.  

“I love you Suguru.” 

“I love you more, sweet girl.” 

Ooh…what about defected!Geto falling in love with a non-sorcerer? And there’s no internal conflict for him, it’s more like he saw her, and somehow everything clicked into place. The attraction is undeniable, the chemistry is palpable, and it’s like his entire world is now tilted on an axis to a new, different Sun — her.

Sypnosis - Eyes that glance at others with hatred could only gaze at you as if you had hung the moon and each individual star.

Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, this is so sickly sweet I am WEAK

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

It’s not like he meant for this to happen. 

But the way that you regarded him with such a softened voice and with hands gentler than the finest silk had him wrapped around your finger — seeking more of that sweet affection that you provided to him.  

The way that your eyes shone the moment you noticed him entering a room, the way that you scooted closer to him, the way that you hung off of his every word.  

He knew that he shouldn’t care about you — you were the personification of everything that he hated. A weak non-sorcerer who could do nothing when it came to defending oneself. 

And yet here he was, wanting nothing more than to shield you and protect you from the dangers of the world.  

“There you are.” Your soft voice wraps around Geto and lightly pulls him from whatever trance he had unknowingly fallen victim to. His head turns to watch as you enter, his lips turning upward in a lovesick smile.  

“Apologies love, were you searching for me?” Geto inquires curiously, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips press sweetly against his forehead.  

“Not me, the girls were asking for you,” you respond, lowering yourself down to sit at Geto’s side, sitting in between his outstretched legs. He smiles again, hand instinctively extending to lay against your leg, his thumb rubbing back and forth affectionately against your skin. 

“Were they?” 

“They were. Mimiko says that you promised her a tea party,” you say with a teasing raise of your eyebrow, one that Geto responds to with a shake of his head — though you don’t fail to notice the smile that he tries so hard to conceal.  

Subconsciously, Geto moves himself closer to you, squeezing your leg and feeling his chest warm as you nestle into his shoulder, cheek pressing comfortably against the soft fabric of his robes.  

“Did I now?” His shoulder rumbles against your cheek, his hand moving upward from your leg to stroke gentle circles into the small of your back. You hum against him, smiling as you nuzzle impossibly further into the warmth of his embrace.  

You both sit in silence, but neither of you mind it. It allows Geto to think — reflect on everything that had led him up to the very position that he found himself in.  

Geto knew that he was a terrible person, or rather, he was a terrible person by the standards that society constantly voiced. But shockingly, even with all of that, you loved him as if it were as easy as breathing.  

You saw past what the others said about him, you didn’t just see Geto — you saw Suguru. 

“Sugu?” you whisper sweetly, tilting your head to get a better look at your husband’s face. He turns to you, humming in response with a raised eyebrow — silently telling you to continue speaking. “I love you.” 

Geto smiles, his eyes softening at you as he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Sure, you were a non-sorcerer, you were the very thing that he wanted to protect. Never did he want to see a scratch on your body or a teardrop on your cheek. You redefined what life meant to him. 

For a flickering moment, Geto forgets all that he had done. He forgets all of his venomous words and all of the blood that once stained his hands. All of it forgotten with a simple whisper — a declaration.  

He pulls back from you just enough to lean his forehead against your own. “I love you more angel.” 

Choso is attached to your hip in a way that a cat is attached to his owner — but it leads to a little tradition that you can pinpoint as your favorite. 

“Cho? I’m going to shower honey, are you coming?”  

Choso glances up at you from his place on the couch, standing from its cushions and immediately following you into the bathroom.  

You smile, placing down your folded clothes on the sink and closing the toilet seat. At the sound of clinking porcelain, Choso takes his designated seat, crossing his legs and watching you intently. 

“So, how was your movie night with Yuuji?” you ask, stripping yourself of your clothes and turning on the shower. Choso hums, smiling for a flicker of a second before he begins to ramble. 

You extend your hand to check the temperature of your shower, still listening to your boyfriend as he recounts his day with Yuuji.  

“He really enjoys those movies, I do not, but they make him happy,” Choso says, shuddering at the remembrance of the movie that Yuuji had shown him. 

You chuckle, stepping into the shower. 

And even after your shower, Choso sits patiently and watches as you towel dry your hair and brush through it. Neither of you say a word now — but neither of you mind the silence.  

“Can I help?” Choso offers, extending his hand towards the hair dryer. You smile at him, allowing him to take it from you as he stands to his full height. He hums, threading his fingers through your hair before taking your hairbrush, drying your hair in the exact same way that he had watched you do it.  

This was your little routine, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.