Jjk Megumi Pinning Us To A Wall And Drunk Confessing!!!!
jjk megumi pinning us to a wall and drunk confessing!!!!
#loveyou!!

Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - None besides alcohol consumption.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

"Itadori! Have you seen Fushiguro around? I've been looking for him," you say worriedly, silently grabbing onto Itadori's arm and lightly tugging him closer to you, your lips ghosting over his ear so that he could hear you clearly over the too-loud music.
The pink-haired male turns to you, eyes narrowing before his gaze quickly flicks over the entirety of the room – a silent search for the unaccounted for Fushiguro. He shakes his head, his eyes returning to you, irises softening at the worried look that passes over your face.
"I haven't. But the last I saw of him, he was at the bar getting himself and Kugisaki something to drink," Itadori admits, frowning as you release his arm, turning your body halfway so that you can get a better look at the bar.
You smile at him in thanks before weaving your way through the crowd, muttering out "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" as you walk to the bar, leaning against it and peering around in search of Fushiguro, hoping that maybe you had just overlooked him by accident.
But the bar is occupied by random people that you don't know, none of them are Fushiguro. An exasperated sigh leaves your parted lips as you turn from the bar, leaning your back against it and scanning the dance floor.
In the center is Kugisaki, hand-in-hand with Maki and dancing to the upbeat music played by the DJ, who occasionally yells into his microphone to keep the club in full swing. Your lips turn upward in a smile as you continue to allow your gaze to wander about the club.
Finally, you spot that familiar tuft of jet-black hair halfway across the club, haphazardly holding onto a half-empty glass and leaning against one of the booths – one occupied by Yuuta and Inumaki. You find yourself smiling, making your way through the crowd and approaching the booth.
"Fushiguro!" You lift a hand to wave as you move closer to the booth, not failing to notice the gentle pink hue that coats Fushiguro's cheeks – it makes you wonder just how much he had to drink. You hadn't expected him to drink so much, especially considering that he had warned both Itadori and Kugisaki to "take it easy" before any of the four of you had stepped into the club.
He turns to you, stumbling on his feet and placing down the glass that he had been holding, not caring about the high-pitched clink that it makes from how roughly he had set it down. "(Y/N)?"
You giggle lightly, catching him as he walks over to you, hands on his arms to steady him. His eyes flicker up to meet your own, narrowing in order to decipher just who you were before his lips purse. You lift your hand, brushing away a few strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead.
"Yeah, it's me. Why don't we get you some water?" you offer, steering Fushiguro to sit across from Inumaki, then looking around for a waiter who could give you the water that Fushiguro definitely needs.
The raven-haired man shakes his head, fingers clasping around your wrist and tugging you clumsily to the dance floor. You follow, allowing yourself to be dragged around by Fushiguro, though you're definitely confused by his spike in boldness.
"C'mon," Fushiguro mumbles, his voice completely drowned out by the booming music playing over the club's many speakers. Your eyes narrow in confusion as Fushiguro stops just at the edge of the dance floor – located near the back of the club itself.
You tilt your head curiously at Fushiguro, his hands now settled on your hips, fingers lightly squeezing you. Your cheeks flush, shocked at the sudden contact — Fushiguro had never been this direct with anyone let alone you for that matter.
“Megumi?” you inquire, glancing down at the pale hands that hold onto your waist as if you would vanish into thin air should his grip loosen. “Are you okay?”
“M’fine,” he slurs, swallowing the growing lump in his throat as his head drops to the junction between your collarbone and shoulder. “Jus’ wanna be near you.”
You flush from head to toe, feeling your entire body light aflame as Fushiguro pulls you impossibly closer, his grip only tightening around you. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears, pulsating in a way that is borderline uncomfortable.
“Here, let’s go outside,” you say quietly, linking your fingers with Fushiguro’s and leading him to the back entrance of the bar. You push the door open, sighing thankfully as the cold night air licks at your skin like an excited dog — contrasting greatly with the stuffiness inside the bar itself.
Slowly, you lower Fushiguro to sit on one of the small wooden chairs that the bouncer must’ve left outside. You sit down cross-legged on the chair beside Fushiguro, bravely leaning your head against his leg as he remains quiet, simply staring out at the busy road that the back of the bar faces.
“I love you y’know,” Fushiguro says bluntly, not reacting even as you swivel to face him, a look of shock passing over your face at his blatant confession. You stare silently at him, wanting to see if he would continue without you prompting conversation — and continue he does.
“Jus’ everything about you; your smile, your eyes, your demeanor, everything,” Fushiguro finally turns to look at you, staring silently into your awestruck eyes. Your lips tremble, struggling to decide whether they should turn upward in a smile or downward into a frown (likely because you thought that Fushiguro was bullshitting you).
“And I want you to be mine (Y/N). And I want to … to be yours,” Fushiguro says, reaching a hand over and lacing his fingers with your own, squeezing. “Please.”
Chuckling gently, you return the affectionate squeeze of his fingers, leaning up and pressing a fleeting kiss to Fushiguro’s cheek. He stills, watching as you rest back on your legs, keeping your gaze locked with his own.
“Let’s sleep on it, then we’ll talk, yeah?”
Fushiguro nods, closing his eyes and smiling at the lingering warmth that your lips left behind. “Yeah … okay.”
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More Posts from Colonelarr0w
What Might've Been

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).

"Cleaning up?" Geto asks with a curious tilt of his head, watching as you lift another framed photograph from your bedside table. You smile, turning on your heel.
"Yeah, that and I wanted to replace a couple of the pictures," you answer, gesturing to the photo frames lying face up on your bed. Geto follows your gaze, humming thoughtfully. "Want to help me pick them out?"
Geto smiles, closing the distance between you both and placing a sweet kiss against your forehead. Your arms wrap around his waist, holding him close to you. His eyes wander down to the photograph in your hands – it was one of you, himself, Nanako, and Mimiko.
Nanako and Mimiko are hanging off of Geto's outstretched arms, their lips turned upward in bright smiles. You're standing just in front of Geto, hands hovering beneath the twin girls just in case either one of them were to fall.
"Don't replace that one," Geto says suddenly, reaching a larger hand out and taking the frame from you. He smiles at it, then returning it to your hand. You chuckle breathily, stepping out of his embrace and turning to glance at the other photographs you had laid out on your bed.
"I like that one too. But what about these?"
You receive no answer.
"Sugu?" You turn back to where he had been standing, tilting your head curiously. The space he occupied was empty.
"Mama? Who are you talkin' to?" Nanako peeks her head into your bedroom, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion as she pushes your door open. You still, eyes flickering down to the frame in your hands. Your fingers tighten over it, eyes pricking with tears. "Mama?"
"Nothin' honey," you reply tearfully, smiling shakily at her as you swipe the backs of your knuckles against your eyes.
"It was nobody."
now playing - jujutsu kaisen

" being a child is not a sin. " " the most twisted curse of all is love. "
featuring -> satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna, hiromi higuruma, ino takuma, yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, yuuta okkostu, toge inumaki
key : * = angst ~ = smut ^ = fluff
< ... >
entry 001 : who is (y/n)? ft. kento nanami * entry 002 : a quiet night in ft. kento nanami ^ entry 003 : voices ft. suguru geto ^* entry 004 : baked goods ft. suguru geto ^ entry 005 : girls night out ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, choso kamo ^~ entry 006 : recharge ft. kento nanami ^ entry 007 : fix you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 008 : soft dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 009 : everyone but you ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 010 : cold, dead heart ft. ryomen sukuna ^* entry 011 : cat-like ft. choso kamo ^ entry 012 : opposites ft. yuuji itadori ^ entry 013 : starry night ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^* entry 014 : betting on you ft. satoru gojo * entry 015 : pink-haired matchmaker ft. kento nanami ^ entry 016 : firsts ft. kento nanami ^~ entry 017 : private, not secret ft. kento nanami ^ entry 018 : looking after you ft. suguru geto ^* entry 019 : jealousy ... insecurity ft. yuuta okkotsu ^* entry 020 : part of you ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 021 : aggressive dom ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 022 : why you? ft. suguru geto ^ entry 023 : everything was perfect ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 024 : deserved ft. hiromi higuruma ~ entry 025 : my love, mine all mine ft. multi ^ entry 026 : never alone ft. suguru geto ^* entry 027 : designated seat ft. satoru gojo ~ entry 028 : not her ft. yuuji itadori * entry 029 : shoulders ft. suguru geto ^* entry 030 : to you ft. toji fushiguro ^ entry 031 : softened edge ft. ryomen sukuna ^ entry 032 : not her (2) ft. yuuji itadori * entry 033 : mirrored image ft. suguru geto * entry 034 : drunkenly yours ft. megumi fushiguro ^ entry 035 : not yet ft. satoru gojo ^* entry 036 : across the universe ft. multi ^ entry 037 : what might've been ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo, ieri shoko ^* entry 038 : a welcome distraction ft. suguru geto, satoru gojo ^
hi i hope you’re well! i love your writing and i was hoping to make a req for gojo. reader riding his face and he’s just sloppy with it because he’s obsessed with her and how good she tastes and he won’t stop talking about it either lmao full on loverboy <3 thank you so much!

Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - This is just smut guys, c'mon, read the request.
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

“C’mon baby, pleaseee?” Satoru whines, turning his head so that his cheek rests against your inner thigh. His eyes flicker up to you, wide and puppy-like. God, you could already feel yourself folding.
Your fingers pause their scratching of Satoru’s scalp, eyes boring into his own as you force yourself to wear a stern expression.
“I don’t know ‘toru,” you murmur offhandedly, wincing as Satoru’s expression falls. He sighs, breath fanning out over the exposed skin of your leg — which sends a shiver up your spine.
He pouts, bottom lip jutting out as his arms squeeze around your waist. You jolt, not having expected the gesture.
“What’s the worst that could happen?”
“I crush you…?”
Satoru hums, tilting his head as if he were weighing his options. You bite back the laugh that bubbles in the back of your throat, nearly allowing your resolve to crumble.
“What a way to go out—“
“Satoru!” You slap a hand against the back of his head, chuckling breathily as he dramatically yelps, then burying his head into your stomach. “Don’t say things like that.”
He groans, the vibration of his voice tickling your skin. Your fingers return to his hair, scratching lightly over his scalp — it makes you giggle how he immediately leans into the touch, practically purring.
“Pleaseee~?” Satoru begs, flashing you his signature puppy eyes again in the hopes that it would break you down enough to say ‘yes’ to his one request.
(In truth, he was making it seem like this was his last request before he would surrender to the skeletal hands of Death.)
“Are you sure that you want me to sit on your face?” you raise your eyebrow. The expression that Satoru wears is comical — his eyebrows flattened and his eyes narrowed in the most ‘Are you kidding me?’ look that you had ever seen.
And that’s what brought you here.
On top of Satoru’s nose.
Rocking your hips against him as you desperately chased an orgasm that was right there.
The lewd sounds of Satoru slurping up every bit of what you offer him only makes the coil in your stomach tighten. His tongue is buried in your heat, greedily licking up every last bit of your essence and moaning against you.
You brace yourself on your palms, hands on either side of Satoru’s head with your fingers curling up the sheets. You throw your head back, moaning out in such a pornographic way that Satoru genuinely thought he had cum in his pants (he didn’t … yet).
His tongue moves upward, lips latching onto your clit as he roughly sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves, holding your hips steady as you begin to lose your balance on top of him.
“C’mon pretty girl, wan’ you to cum on my tongue,” Satoru murmurs against you, the vibrato of his voice sending a delicious shiver up your spine.
You glance down, the coil in your stomach nearly snapping at the mere sight of Satoru’s eyes peering up at you, pupils lust blown from the position that you were currently in.
A broken moan falls from your lips as you rock your hips against his face, clit just barely rubbing against the tip of his nose. “‘toru!”
The lewd sound of Satoru gulping down all your pussy offers him is the answer that you receive — that which finally pushes you completely over the edge.
Your body stutters, nearly losing your balance. Satoru’s hands grab at the skin of your thighs, fingers digging into the supple flesh and leaving behind small crescent marks from his nails.
His tongue works you through your orgasm, tongue kitten-licking your clit until you’re convulsing on the verge of overstimulation. Your chest rises and falls in whiny pants, body trying to lift itself from Satoru’s mouth — but he continues his relentless actions.
Your fingers tangle themselves into his hair, nails grazing against his scalp and tugging upward on the strands. Satoru groans against you, the vibration keeping you teetering on the edge of another orgasm. You tug your bottom lip up between your teeth, biting down into the flesh and swallowing another moan as it rises in your throat.
Finally, after one last tug to his hair, Satoru lets you fall back against the bed, chest rising and falling as you attempt to catch your breath. He turns his head, grinning at you with that same shit-eating grin that he always wore in situations where he was proven right.
"See, nothing bad happened!" Satoru grins as he tugs you into his arms, pressing chaste kisses against your neck as you lean into him, nose tucking into the crook of his neck.
You hum in response, eyes already fluttering shut as exhaustion begins to seep into your bones. Satoru only chuckles to himself, squeezing you tighter against him and pressing a lingering kiss to your hairline. He glances down at your sleepy face, smiling to himself as he cards his fingers through your hair, nails scraping against your scalp.
"So can we do it again?"
"'toru!"

Gojo knew that you absolutely adored his eyes, and in turn, he began to adore them as well.
At multiple points throughout his life, Gojo would stare daggers into his own reflection. His hands would grip the sides of the sink, knuckles turning white from how tightly he curled his fingers.
Your eyes are a curse, he would tell himself. They prevented him from proper rest, working on overdrive and spoon-feeding him information that he never truly wanted. The abilities and techniques of others constantly swarmed his mind, drowning out his own thoughts.
That was before he met you.
That was before you held his face in your hands and gazed at his eyes with such adoration that he felt himself melting on the spot. Before your soft lips parted to whisper to him, "Your eyes are gorgeous."
From that point forward, he told himself that his eyes were gorgeous. He looked at them in the mirror with love, not with that burning hatred that he had known for so many years. He takes a second to admire them now in the morning, running the tips of his fingers against the skin underneath his eyes, smiling faintly to himself.
Gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous.
He hears you say it to him every time he lifts his blindfold and catches a glimpse of his reflection. He can feel the ghost of your hands over his cheeks, how your thumbs stroked his skin and how your lips pressed to his closed eyelids.
But you're not around anymore.
It had been months since Gojo heard your voice, or felt your touch. Your last mission had ended in you never returning home – a fact that Gojo struggled to stomach. But shockingly, his hatred for his eyes never returned.
"Satoru! There you are!"
He pauses, feet suddenly feeling as though they were being weighed down by bricks. The heads of the transfigured humans he'd killed fall to the ground with dull thuds. He turns on his heel, heart dropping to his stomach.
It's you.
Your lips are turned upward in that soft smile that he had kissed so many times. You tilt your head at him, eyes opening as your smile begins to fade.
His eyes roam over your figure, drinking in every detail about you and committing it to memory … not that he had forgotten anything about you in the first place.
Gojo's Six Eyes kept repeating over and over again that it was you. You were alive … standing right in front of him as if nothing bad had ever happened to you.
In that moment, at that very second …
… he had never hated his eyes more.