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niki-phoria · 8 months ago

Text

⋆｡°✩ YOU LOOK SO PRETTY / PRETTY LIKE THE SUN

sweet moments with fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), first jjk reaction post !! this was so hard to write ngl, header from pinterest, title from tom odell - black friday

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is in love with you.

dusk is filled with golden rays and city lights. you walk side-by-side with megumi in a comfortable silence. these quiet moments with you had always been rare but cherished moments - a small amount of time when you both could finally breathe.

years of fighting curses had taken its toll on you. with death always just one wrong move away, megumi had grown accustomed to cherishing the little moments with you: when you made him coffee in the morning before he woke up; when you waited at his bedside after he was injured in a fight; when you forcefully put some of your food on his plate after noticing that he wasn’t eating enough.

megumi had never grown up with a view of a real romantic relationship - all of his experience came from side plots in manga and being dragged into watching movies with yuuji - but he was smart enough to realize why his heart beat so fast around you. why he blushed so easily when your hand brushed against his. why he desperately wanted more.

megumi stops when you pause in your steps, stretching out your shoulders. a content sigh escapes you as you look out towards the shore. “the sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” you say, your eyes trained on the hues of pink and blue filling the sky.

megumi glances at the skyline, only taking in the sight momentarily before he turns back to you. all the beautiful things he’s heard about “golden hour” seem to come true. the sun peeks out from behind various buildings, illuminating your silhouette. you softly smile as you look up at the clouds above.

“yeah,” he smiles; his gaze remains trained on you. “beautiful.”

fushiguro megumi is in love with you. now, he just has to tell you.

ITADORI YUUJI is - surprisingly - not a bad cook. over his months at jujutsu high, he had become the unofficial chef in the dorms. so when you fell ill, it was no surprise when he took on the responsibility of nursing you back to health.

your body is little more than a mound of blankets when yuuji creeps into your room; a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. he moves with the utmost care as he makes his way across the room before setting the bowl down on your bedside table. despite your puffy eyes and red-tipped nose he smiles, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

you stir awake at his touch before slowly blinking up at him. “hi y/n,” yuuji whispers. “feeling any better?”

he receives a groan in response. “i feel like death,” you rasp out.

yuuji reaches over, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re still really warm,” he mumbles. “i don’t think your fever has gone down at all.”

his cheeks flush slightly when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. your skin is overly warm and slightly clammy, but yuuji doesn’t mind. instead, he intertwines your hands together.

“here,” he says, using his free hand to hold up a spoonful of the soup he made. “try it. maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

the metal spoon burns your tongue and the broth is a little too salty, but it soothes your throat all the same. “thank you,” you murmur. “it’s delicious.”

yuuji simply smiles brightly, holding out yet another spoonful for you. “of course.”

“do you know japanese sign language?”

INUMAKI TOGE stares at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden question. it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but it was something no one had bothered to ask before.

finally, after a short period of silence, he nods. “salmon.”

toge had grown accustomed to being left out. even while around the most supportive people, he often found himself struggling to be heard - both literally and metaphorically. after all, it was difficult to communicate with others through origini ingredients.

that didn’t make it any less hurtful, though.

you smile brightly, hesitantly signing along to your words as you speak. “i’ve been practicing a little. i wanted to surprise you.”

toge’s face flushes; his jacket does little to hide the way his blush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. your movements are a little sloppy and you’re clearly nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it. no one had ever put in this much effort to speak to him before. to not only listen, but understand what he means.

“thank you,” he signs in return. he pauses for a second, hesitating slightly before he continues. “i love you.”

“i don’t think i know that one.” toge simply smiles, leaning in to pull you into a kiss. he’ll tell you what it means soon enough. but for now, his flushed cheeks and soft smile tell you everything he means to say.

the safest place in the world is within OKKOTSU YUUTA’S arms. you can’t remember when it became a routine for the two of you. he would return home and immediately seek you out; his fingers curl around your waist and tug you closer until your back reaches his chest.

a soft sigh escapes his lips as he rests his chin against your shoulder. the pieces of your bodies fit together like a puzzle - from the way yuuta intertwines his fingers with your own to how seamlessly his arms wrap around you.

messy strands of ink black hair brush against the side of your neck when yuuta nuzzles himself even closer against you. his breath ghosts against your shoulder as he leans down, pressing a few lazy kisses over the fabric of your shirt. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” your fingertips trace along little cuts and deep bruises decorating yuuta’s hands. “do they hurt?”

he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. it feels trivial to be in pain over such minor injuries, but yuuta has never been the best liar. “only a little,” he murmurs.

you frown slightly, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips. the soft kisses you press against the fresh wounds leave him breathless. with a flushed face and a soft smile, yuuta presses a chaste kiss against your cheek in return. “thank you.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

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vagabond-umlaut · 6 months ago

Text

a battle well begun is the war half won

gojo notices you. you notice gojo. [the boy wants your eyes on him at all times.]

teen!gojo x fem!reader; first meetings; love at first sight[??]; lovesick gojo[??]; mostly fluffy; 1 small discussion on death; reader is in 1st yr whilst gojo is in 3rd yr; gojo has a very... unique definition of romancing in his brain; 'one-sided enemies to lovers' vibes; 2.2k wc

belongs to the series 'fictitious force' but can be read as a stand-alone if you wanna

the og saying is smthng else, yeah... ik. i js tweaked it a bit for fic title purposes, hehe. also, pls no comments on how i named this series... i used to hv a love-hate thing with pseudo-force problems in physics during my hs... and i'm srsly out of ideas :D

header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine

the sky bleeds green, the first time gojo sees you fight.

it isn't anything enthralling. your movements, far from well-practised. your twisted expression screams unease at best, extreme discomfort at worst— you are definitely not one of the best sorcerers the boy has seen so far—

yet he finds himself utterly transfixed.

feet rooted to the earth as an even brighter green beam cuts through the forest. and the second mountain of cursed energy becomes a few wisps of smoke. your form slumping to the ground not long after—

were the boy a better person at heart, he reckons he would've rushed to help you. but he isn't. not really.

so he keeps to his vantage point. blue eyes narrowing a touch behind his shades, as they watch you slowly heave yourself off the mud, face shifting into a scowl as you trudge towards a tree and plop down with no ceremony in front of it—

a barely-there rustle to his left.

followed by the appearance of the steady simmer of a cursed energy, all too familiar.

"yo, nanamin!" gojo greets, wearing a wide beam the second the said kouhai comes before him, feet carefully and soundlessly treading the rugged terrain— the latter's perpetual glower turns into a momentary flicker of surprise.

but it's vanished before the older boy can comment on it.

nanami's face flattens back to its usual state of annoyed indifference.

"the tournament is already over. yaga-sensei wants us all to report to him in another ten..." the boy trails off. rather abruptly. rather strange for him— aha! so nanamin has finally spotted you in the valley below, huh?— gojo wraps an arm around his kouhai's shoulders, allowing his gaze to return to you as well.

you look pretty cute when you're yawning...

"she's from kyoto, isn't she?"

"yes," the younger boy replies, pinning gojo under a curious look. but it's gone all too soon, all too swiftly like the ones preceding. he drops the arm resting on his shoulder.

gojo lets him. simply pouting in response, before he hums, "do you know her?"

"personally, no," nanami is quick to answer, "but from what i've heard from others... she's somewhat peculiar, if i may say so."

this is honestly one of the best opportunities he will ever get to tease that stoic underclassman of his, even more 'cause since when did he, the nanami kento, start gossipping like old geezers!?— but gojo opts to let this chance pass by.

getting more deets on you is way more important for him.

he doesn't bother to hide his burgeoning interest from his tone. "you know her name by any chance?"

nanami does. and as far as gojo knows, your surname doesn't belong to any of the sorcerer clans. none of the major clans, he is pretty sure of that— you might be from a minor one. or, what his gut feelings are telling him, you're from a non-sorcerer background.

not that it matters to him. he is better than the elders of his clan.

"and which year is she in?"

"first year."

wow. you haven't been in school for more than a few months, but you have already managed to make people talk about yourself, huh? quite impressive, gojo thinks as he steals another glance of you.

this time, no longer yawning. just staring vacantly at your keds—

except those muddy shoes are no longer the object of your attention. it is him— really, so very him— your bright, blinding, blindingly bright gaze, every ounce of it focused on him, as your back straightens. and he spots your shoulders tense, brows furrow—

gojo satoru doesn't run away.

he is one of the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers. the boy does not, he cannot, he must not run away... yet that's what he does when his gaze collides with you the first time.

grabbing nanami's hand and wasting not one moment to warp them both to the school rooftop, his kouhai's yelp of surprise goes with an ear-piercing whistle of the winds— gojo releases his hold on the boy, the moment his feet touch the concrete— and turns to him, eyes the calmest he can make them seem.

"tell me everything you know about her— like, right now— or i will tell your dear geto-senpai you were the one who finished his melon pan— quit glaring and start speaking, nanamin!!!"

****

turns out, nanami's heart has a very soft corner for gojo's best friend.

also turns out, the third-year need not wait till the breakfast at 10 am tomorrow, to approach you— you amble into his life, dressed in a tad too washed-out set of pajamas and a terrible hairstyle— gojo reckons an angel too would look the same, when you flip the kitchen lights on, making the clock seem a halo-ey thing behind your head.

you stop. suck in a sharp breath.

the boy swallows the last bit of his mochi. and grins.

"heeey! you're the newbie from kyoto, right? heard a lot 'bout you!"

honestly? it was less of hearing and more of extracting info, but gojo decides not to mention it. you don't have any business knowing that, whatever can be the case— ten painfully slow seconds tick by before you return him a response—

a stiff smile.

an even stiffer bow.

followed by you turning on your heel.

were gojo any slower, you would've slipped from the kitchen without any doubt. but he isn't. which is why not even four seconds can pass before he stills you again, this time not by his tall figure lounging in a terrifyingly dark kitchen but by his fingers grasping your wrist.

thumb pressing into the dangerously frantic pulse beneath your skin.

you try to snatch your hand away. and the boy lets you. only 'cause he was too distracted by the furious warmth of embarrassment creeping into your pretty face— no, it is not for how your skin felt a tad too soft beneath the callouses of his palm...

you're the first one to speak this time. voice so quiet... so firm.

"i don't think i can help you with anything, senpai. please don't bother me this way. let me go... please."

no way in hell is gojo bothering you right now— the indignant retort is the first thing the boy can think of. but he resolves to bite it back.

a stupid argument isn't how he wants his story with you to start. sure, there might and will be those later on, but not now. no. he shoots the second grin of his this night, your way.

"aw, i don't need your help with anything— but yeah, you're right. i'm not supposed to stop you like this... you need to sleep enough before tomorrow's one-on-one duels, don't ya?"

"yeah," you agree easily, eyes drifting to your shoes in a small nod.

gojo's grin widens.

maybe like a cheshire cat.

maybe like a victor cat who finally got the rat right where he wanted: in his paws.

"but you won't be needing a lot of rest if you're already determined to lose the match tomorrow— will you now?"

no, you won't. you obviously won't. gojo has learnt enough about you to predict this much accurately; but maybe not too accurately. given you don't show any sliver of shock or fear in return.

just two eyebrows raised, only to slowly descend to their original level a moment later. your tone feels firmer this time. "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?"

"nothing too serious," the boy hums easily, stuffing his hands into his trousers pockets. why do they start being so cold, so clammy now of all times??— "just that it doesn't take a hell lot of work to maintain an image of being an incompetent idiot, like the one you always seem to be— c'mon," the boy coaxes, making his voice seem extra petulant at noticing still no emotion whatsoever on your face, "you do know what i'm speaking of, don't you?"

in retrospect, maybe... he should have handled you with greater care. you're not only new to your school, but also to the world of sorcery in general. pressing you so hard will hurt you, if not break you entirely— but gojo doesn't let such concerns form in his mind. not even for one whole second.

not when he wants to see something, anything come to life in those bright eyes of yours. he is dying to see a spark in them.

you fold your arms across your chest. brows nearing in a mild scowl. gojo doesn't really understand, but loves the sense of joy the sight is bringing him— "what exactly are you trying to tell me, senpai?" your adorable voice repeats, stonier than before.

he resists the urge to pinch your cheeks. or worse, coo at you.

the boy removes his hands from his pockets. copying your stance as he says, "i cannot really tell you anything, y'know— you're almost as smart as me— i mean, tricking those stinking geezers into believing you're just some weakass, with neither a cursed technique nor good fighting skills, despite the insane amount of cursed energy you've..."

"why did you never curb your cursed energy, by the way?" the query slips past his lips into the space in between: horribly genuine. a fact that doesn't escape your eye, he grasps when you reply— in spite of the not-too-little reluctance marking your features.

"the higher-ups were aware of my high cursed energy before i even knew what the hell it was— it was honestly too late," you state in an awfully matter-of-fact tone, "they would have noticed if i tried to do anything to it."

the 'and they would have harmed me or my family' goes unsaid, but gojo doesn't need to hear it to know it. not entirely intentionally, his voice grows softer with the next question.

"but you tampered with something that no one knew anything of yet— you lied about having no cursed technique, didn't you?"

your hesitation overpowers you this time, however. brows furrowing for a beat at him, before they flatten again. you offer a curt nod.

few more seconds borrowed until you speak again, "but my horrible fighting skills weren't a lie entirely... i really am shit at fighting— you saw that today, did you not?"

he did. he so did—

but that very moment, he also saw just how strong your technique is. surely not as powerful as his. but pretty much capable on its own— it frankly won't be a serious issue even if you keep fighting how you did today—

the sound of a yawn breaks his internal musings.

those big eyes of yours blink up at him. so bleary, so bright. he stifles the urge to pinch your cheeks again. deciding to shoo away the sleep in your eyes by throwing the next ask his brain has cooked up. one he knows, has the biggest 'yes!' ever for its answer—

"you're very scared of dying, aren't you? that's why you always make yourself seem so weak— so much so that you aren't assigned to any mission— don't you?"

— only to question his brain when he notes the easy smile twist your lips. it sharpens at the edges as you answer, "dying's rather easy and uncomplicated, senpai. it doesn't really scare me, except maybe, the pain i might have to suffer— but do you know what's scarier??"

"no," gojo says back quietly. honestly. your smile grows something an awful lot similar to pity— the boy detests it usually... but coming from you, he thinks he will take it.

he will take any look you're willing to give him.

as long as it's you on the other side—

your words reach him quieter than the breeze outside. "what's more terrifying is the worry of what is going to happen to your loved ones, should you just die someday— death is inevitable, but i just want to stave it off for as long as i can. just so i may live with my family... you know what, senpai?" you interrupt yourself abruptly, voice becoming the sharpest in these last fifteen minutes.

a feeble sound escapes the boy.

he isn't sure if it's because of that sincere little hum in your words or if it is the gleam of the moonlight on your face. perhaps, both...

yeah, both— it is rather difficult to distinguish between the beauty of your inner self from that of your outer self— the smile simmers down to a subtle twitch of your lips.

something stutters and stumbles inside gojo's chest.

"i know you see me as nothing more than a coward right now, but i believe... it's better to be a coward and alive, than to be a hero and dead— isn't it, senpai?"

[you're pretty bold, however.

far braver than he could ever deem you to be, the boy muses later to himself with a wry smile, an ice bag on the big toe of his right foot— this poor thing swollen and bruised from how mercilessly the heel of your slipper stamped onto it earlier—

okay, fine— the sorcerer concedes to the imaginary angel perched on his shoulder. something between a grumble and a sigh escaping— he shouldn't have asked you out on a date, in return for him to keep your secrets.

it was really inappropriate, he admits. and gojo likes to see himself as a gentleman... yet, yet, yet.

the need to see that placid mask of yours crack— let it be by a glower and not by the smile, he has never seen on you but knows will be just as lovely as you— that need was too overwhelming then as well...

shushing the angel and fist-bumping his guardian devil, gojo tosses the ice bag away. and falls back into his bed—

a very happy, a touch too giddy grin splitting his face into halves:

you really are a peculiar girl, heh!]

hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️

masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #kit posts 📝

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