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livinghostly · 2 months

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i will hold on to you for as long as you let me — megumi fushiguro x mom!reader, satoru gojo x reader

a/n: sorryyy the fushiguro-gojo family dynamic was rotting my brain and i needed this out of my system. LOTS of projection of my fear of growing up in this one soz. this was fully meant to be a drabble and it just kept going idk wc: 3.1k angst/fluff. mom!reader has a lot of bittersweet thoughts about megumi growing up and satoru is there to comfort <3 lots of parentheses and lots of repetition

you put on a brave face all day. all week, even. despite the burn in your chest that engulfed your lungs and squeezed unrelentingly. despite the tears that burned the corners of your eyes delicately balancing on the your waterline, one blink away from breaking the surface density and opening the floodgates to pour down your cheeks. despite the non-stop ache of your stomach, churning what you ate every day but still holding the same emptiness as anxiety consumed you.

megumi didn’t pack much, he never held on to many things to begin with. (you always prayed for that to change, for his comfort your home. you prayed he would see it as his own, as well). he neatly folded his clothes into his suitcases and stacked his hangers on top. he purchased a new sheet set for his bed in the dormitory because the one he was used to was much bigger, much softer.

he packed most of his books, carefully picking out the ones that tugged at the nostalgic parts of him, frayed along the edges after many years of re-reading, as well the ones that still had vibrant covers and stiff spines he hoped to finish. you noticed the leather journal he kept tied together– the ink-blotted pages bursting at the seams –sitting on the shelf before he tucked it into his box of personal belongings. it was his third one since living with you, all filled to every last page and used beyond ruin. the rest were hidden between his headboard and the wall. you pretended not to know, after stumbling upon them while changing his sheets.

closing the door to your home felt eerily empty. it looked the same as every day. the couch was cleaned and the floors swept. dishes rinsed and promptly put away. but with your lingering gaze your mind fixated on the dining table set for four, two adult pairs of shoes at the door, one pink backpack slumped on the hook of the closet door with an empty space below. your chest twisted at the lack of clutter, though it’d been like that for some time, with tsumiki and megumi growing older and cleaning up after themselves properly like you taught them. like you wanted. the pride you initially felt with those memories of parenting were becoming eclipsed with resentment and despair.

the ride to school was quick and familiar, megumi knew well what he was getting into after visiting there to train. satoru liked to call them little getaways from megumi’s civilian life, claiming he wasted too much time around non-sorcerers when he could be on missions with his ever-loving benefactor instead.

satoru, who was whining while he laid himself across the three seats in the back of your car. you’d banished him there for such a special occasion, and he threatened to transport himself to the school alone. an empty threat, at best. he didn’t want to miss this.

megumi had sparred with the older students and found himself thrown around the field many times already. he knew his way to the infirmary by heart, he knew where gojo tucked away his most powerful curse-imbued weapons (that were supposed to be under the surveillance of higher ups), and knew what letter-number combination granted him the ginger chips nobody else seemed to like.

you were glad he was comfortable. you were glad he would fall into routine easily after the repeated trips to jujutsu high and developing a rapport with his upperclassmen. you’d waited for the day that he’d truly be part of the jujutsu world and welcomed into a better suited environment for people like him. and you knew he would be great, he already possessed an incredible technique and wielded it like he’d been fine-tuning it since birth. far ahead from most kids his age, you were proud.

still, your gut was sinking, sinking, sinking into the floor with each passing second.

megumi picked his room in one of the far-away corners of the boys dormitory, leaving inumaki and panda heartbroken (panda said he would find a way to organize sleepover. megumi said he would drop out before that happened. inumaki cried– no, wailed at the rejection). yuuta fell into step with you, slipping one of the boxes out of your hands and insisting on helping instead. it was sweet, if it didn’t feel like he was ripping precious time away from you.

but you smiled, and granted his wish. megumi wasn’t complaining, he liked yuuta more than the others. it was a good chance for them to talk more. all of this, a chance, a new chapter, the rest of his life. the thoughts weighed on your shoulders with a disgusting strain traveling to your fingertips.

you were painfully aware you were in your own head, doing this all to yourself. he wasn’t going away, you would still be seeing him, more than you used to when he went to his other schools. he would always be here.

satoru found you in your classroom, while you were organizing the stationary with an unnaturally stiff composure. your arms were tense, he could see the muscles constantly flexing with each of your movements.

your jaw was clenching and unclenching again. you made a point not to look outside, where the second-years were training brashly after successfully moving their things back into their dorms. you made a point not to meet satoru’s dangerous stare as he shut the door to your classroom, as if it granted any privacy with the seven large windows running along the wall that showcased the hallway.

“what are you doing all by yourself, beautiful?” his tone was soft and inviting, begging you to open up and let yourself fall against the cushion of his words.

“um,” you exhaled, voice shaky. you scrunched your face to break apart the tension that had hardened your expression. “i figured i would get a few things ready for tomorrow.”

it took satoru’s long legs two-and-a-half strides to meet you at your desk, where you gently shut the drawer. there were a handful of dated photographs in there, signed with his name and the chicken scratch of two children.

“it’s all ready, baby. we did that last week.”

(correction: you did it. he tagged along for the shopping trip).

“there’s just… a few things...” you mumbled, not finding the strength to finish your own sentence.

satoru gently placed his hand on your shoulder, emitting inhuman warmth that spread across your skin. you leaned into him as he dragged his hand down your arm and intertwined your fingers with the care of handling fine china. his presence brought you solace, effortlessly bringing the walls down that you desperately wanted to wait until you got home to break.

he kissed the back of your hand and rubbed the skin. “you know you’re going to see him every day, right?”

it was embarrassing how well satoru knew you, knew your thought process like it was an extension of his own. he knew your doubts and insecurities, your fears and desires. he could predict the words before they came from your mouth, more in tune with the way you spoke than his mother tongue.

“mhm.”

“you know we’re going to be the ones chaperoning his missions, right?”

you closed your eyes and looked away. “i know.”

“do you remember when he said he’d like to go home some weekends, and have dinner?”

“he said that to be nice.”

“when has he ever been nice?”

you opened your eyes to glare at him, though he was right. megumi was not nice. he was polite. he was too self-aware for his own good, too perceptive of others and their emotions. in all the time that you’d known him, raised him, he made himself smaller for the convenience of others. he walked on his tiptoes for a year and a half so no one else would wake up because of him. he made his own breakfast and bit back his tears when he burned himself. he didn’t ask for things or food and didn’t offer his input unless asked directly. for some time, he was a ghost in his own home.

it seemed as soon as the bits of his shell started to break off, he was being swept away from you by the jujutsu world, leaving you with looming fears that consumed your mind and disrupted your sleep for weeks.

satoru smiled, though it was weighed down with your sadness. “hey, he’s not going anywhere, you know that. just because you’re not driving him home everyday doesn’t mean he’s gone.”

it’s funny, it’s nearly the same speech he gave you when tsumiki started middle school. and when megumi followed those same steps.

tsumiki didn’t make it this far, though.

the thought makes your lip wobble again, and you bite it back pathetically.

“i know. i know that. it’s just that…” your voice cracked, and you shoved your head in your hands. your palms squeezed your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the already-flowing tears. “he’s not my little boy anymore.”

satoru’s soothing hands pull you into a tight hug, and you don’t have it in you yet to move your hands from your face. his embrace makes you sob harder, louder as all your emotions from the last week begin to pour out at once. his chest rumbled with your cries, and he tucked you further under his arms as if to shield you from what was making you hurt so much. it was all you.

“baby…” he chuckled, without a hint mirth or mockery. he squeezed you with compassion and adoration. “you know that’s not true. he’s still pretty short, he’s got another growth spurt coming.”

a small laugh slipped through, but was quickly drowned out by your cries.

“he’ll be okay. he’s still here.”

he was so, so warm. he gently began to rock back and forth with you, the heels of your shoes gently clicking on the tile floor. a small hiccup erupted from you as you found the strength to wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest. the familiar thrum of his heartbeat welcomed you.

“i know, i’m sorry. i know he’s not leaving, or anything… i just… i thought i was ready.” you blubbered into his button-up. surely, there’d be two wet spots where your eyes were when you pulled away.

he swayed side to side with you, staring at the blackboard ahead of him. he nestled his chin on the top of your head, wondering if you could hear the cracks tearing through his heart. “it’s okay if you’re not ready. but you’re treating this like it's goodbye.”

“but what if we don’t get a goodbye?”

“okay, you really are overthinking this,” he pulled away from your embrace, your fingers still digging into the material of his shirt. he brushed away the hair covering your eyes, stuck to your skin by the wetness of your cheeks. streaks ran through your foundation and the corners of your eyes were smudged. “there you are. so pretty.”

it was silly how he believed he could make things better like that. it was silly that he was a little bit right.

“don’t think for a second i’ll let megumi be sent on a mission he can’t handle. he’s going to be fine.”

satoru’s love ran deep. for you, for megumi, for all his students. he fought curses everyday for you, rotted himself with his technique and stitched himself back up in a moment’s notice to fight for you. to come home to you. all of humanity be damned, those closest to him were the ones he fought for, and he would do everything in his power to preserve their lives.

he already towed the line with the higher-ups and their conservative rules and regulations, but he would tear them down if you asked. for megumi, he’d fight tooth and nail to see that he wasn’t being sent off on a mission ill-prepared. under his watch, things would be different for his students.

you nodded meekly, wiping away your tears with one hand. “i hate when you’re right, toru. it’s really annoying.”

he smoothed down your hair and grinned. “i know, just let me have this one, though.”

his sweet murmurs filled your ears, along with the gentle shuffling of your clothes as you made yourself presentable again. you balled up your sleeves and patted the corners of your eyes gently, and he straightened out the hem of your shirt. it was wrinkled, a reminder of how harshly you clung to him.

you smiled at the water stains on his shirt now, and he claimed it was in need of dry cleaning anyway.

neither of you noticed the eyes of megumi and yuuta, both stuck in place at the very corner of the windows leading to the hallway. they had training staffs with them, megumi’s grip becoming tighter as he watched you wipe your eyes and knock your head into satoru’s chest lazily. your shoulders low, clearly drained from the amount you cried.

yuuta was frozen, eyes flickering from you to megumi repeatedly. he found his courage in placing a hand on his shoulder, a feather-light grip. “hey, let’s go through the east wing. i’m pretty sure it’s faster that way.”

it wasn’t. but megumi nodded anyway, begrudgingly tearing his gaze from you and turning around with yuuta.

you stared down the red light of the intersection with a blank face, blank mind. letting it all out of your system had successfully flushed out your emotions, taking the rest of your energy along with it. the car was painfully quiet, but no part of you wanted to listen to anything.

satoru was whisked away by yaga, being delivered another mission he swore would take less than a day. ‘less than twelve hours’, he promised to be back for megumi’s first day. he would make it.

it was dark, and you milked all the time you could on school grounds. speaking with yaga and shoko, running through the still-developing information of missions to be sent on. cleaning the classrooms. the lockers. stocking the teachers lounge. dusting the armory. before you knew it the curfew ushered the students into their dorms.

a ringtone broke through your thoughts, making you jump. though the tune was soft, the sudden intrusion made it much more shrill. you fumbled with your phone in the passenger seat, seeing megumi’s contact on the screen.

“hello?”

“hey, mom?”

it took everything you had left not to gawk. he said it before, sparingly in desperation for comfort. his voice was quiet, a near-whisper despite the fact he was alone in his dorm. like he was nervous.

“yes, megumi?”

“um… are you home?”

you wondered if he forgot something. “no, i’m still driving. are you okay?”

“i’m fine, i just… can’t sleep, i guess…” he trailed off, hoping for you to fill in the gap.

“oh. okay. did you take–“

“do you think you could pick me up?” he interrupted. “and i just stay home tonight? you could drive me in the morning.”

you were quick to dissolve into a smile, pointed at the streetlamp on the sidewalk. sadness struck your eyes but you were too occupied by the warmth of his question to feel it.

“yeah. i can be back there in a few minutes, just let me turn around.”

“thanks.”

he didn’t hang up. neither did you. the silence lived on for a few seconds.

“mom?”

“yeah?”

“… gojo’s on a mission, right?”

you laughed, your hand sliding across the steering wheel as you reouted back to the school. “yeah, megs, he’ll be gone tonight.”

“he’s back tomorrow?”

“yeah, we can leave before he gets home.”

“thanks.”

bonus:

satoru tiptoed through the entrance of your home, brushing his blindfold over his hair and peeling it off his head. he hung it up with his keys, lax arms nearly missing the hook on the closet door meant for him. it was beyond late, and he was tired, but he was home like he said he would be.

he bent down to tie his shoes, buffering momentarily as he caught a glance of well-worn sneakers at the front door. they were as clean as they could be, though scuffed rubber turning gray and the laces becoming frayed where they were tightened most.

satoru made a grunt in acknowledgement to no one but himself, as he tossed his shoes down. he glanced around the living space, cautiously bringing himself to each room with a curious itch to scratch. a third pair of shoes. both backpacks on the door. dishes for two placed on the drying rack.

he was expertly quiet by nature, but found himself avoiding the squeaky floorboards on the stairs and all the way to the hallway. he was greeted with a blue sign, corners covered with dog stickers. the frilly handwriting of tsumiki warding off unwanted visitors with the phrase: “megumi’s room. keep out!!”

the door opened quietly, satoru pushing it open to the limit and stopping before it would let out an ungodly squeak. he insisted on never getting it fixed, knowing it bothered megumi.

megumi had his face shoved in his pillow, a desperate attempt to block out any light creeping through the crack of his bedroom door or the streetlamp just outside the window. he was always a light sleeper, always on edge, sleeping with his back to the wall so if something barged in the night he was ready. it was horrible he thought that way, you always said.

his duvet covers were black and white plaid, per his request three years ago when he begged to be free of the puppy sheets. still, he seemed small, curled up in a ball. his face was released of the usual tension and his light breathing filled the room. for a moment, he was little again.

satoru smiled, taking a step back and closing the door gently.

#spleen writes #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk satoru gojo #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x mom!reader #jjk gojo #jjk megumi #jjk megumi fushiguro #megumi fluff #mom!reader #satoru gojo fic #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader

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missmeinyourbones · 11 months

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omg megumi and "open your mouth for me" PLEASE

i like the way you think anon

NSFW 18+ MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

cw: afab!reader, fingering, cum eating, spit (?). finger lickin' (good)

...

as distant as he may seem, megumi thrives off of intimate sex—which surprises him more than anyone else.

he remembers being an awkward teen, watching any god-awful porn he could find online and thinking oh, so that's what sex is supposed to look like.

like a fucking book report, he'd take mental notes of the underlying motifs and tones. always the same dynamics—men big, muscly, and dominant as they throw and bend women every which way. rough. cruel. dirty.

but now he's twenty-four. an adult. he pays rent and votes regularly in local elections and drinks black coffee and fucks like a real man, not the ones he used to see on his computer screen.

if he told his past self that he'd be here, with you, doing the filthy things you do to one another, he'd scowl in pure distaste. and honestly, the thought of anyone else doing it still does sound a bit foul to him.

but it's different with you.

it's intimate, something only he gets to see and only you get to feel. it's hidden from the world and completely your own, different each time yet somehow always leaves him feeling the same.

megumi's never been adventurous, but he's learned that he would do just about anything you ask as long as it's paired with a meek please and thank you.

his fingers twist and curl inside of you, practically molding your warmth to his liking as he softly rocks them in and out of your cunt. he sweetly kisses the sweat beading on your forehead and you whine when the palm of his hand brushes against your sensitive clit.

you're close—he knows you well enough to know through the heightened pitch of your whimpers and the clenching muscles around his fingers.

his voice is soft against your sticky cheek when he gently encourages, "come on, you can do it."

he knows you can, and you know you can. because megumi knows exactly where to poke and prod and linger inside of you to get you right where he wants you. something he's learned through the embarrassingly loving trials and errors of intimacy with you.

"always look so pretty," he kisses your jaw, relishing in the way your body feverishly chases his touch, "wanna see it, please."

and that's really all it takes. you come around his fingers with rocking hips and a breathless whine.

megumi lets you ride it out on his fingers, lets you rock your shaky hips into his palm for as long as you need to get the most out of him.

when your head falls back and your breathing slows down a bit, he allows himself to pull his fingers from you with a lewd pop (something he would cringe at years ago, but now makes his heart swell with pride).

you're tired, he knows, but still, he's incredibly hard and disgustingly in love with the moment spread out before him.

he nudges your nose with his, a silent command for you to kiss him. he cant decide if he loves or hates the way you teasingly turn your cheek, making him work for it.

he pouts softly, needy and shameless as he nudges you again, "come on, open your mouth for me."

and when he asks, he means for him to slide his tongue against yours, but you clearly have other plans.

his mind is only focused on tasting you right now, so when you reach for his wrist, he doesn't think twice.

and when you finally open your jaw slightly ajar, and it's to pop his cum-covered fingers in the warmth of your mouth, he's nearly nineteen again—cumming his pants at the sight of something he thought he'd never actually feel.

"jesus christ, babe," the groan comes desperate and whiny from his throat.

he hides his reddening face in your chest and you laugh at the sight, giggles muffled by his long fingers when you mumble out, "what?"

when he pulls away from your mouth, a string of spit follows, connecting your swollen lips to his pruney fingers. the romantic in him knows it's the invisible string that forever ties the two of you together.

but his words aren't as poetic as his thoughts.

"bitch," he grumbles frustratedly, and you actually laugh at his blunt words.

he doesn't mean it, and he's not trying to be sexy and degrading like the men he used to see online, he's being himself. desperate and needy and so in love with you that it hurts him in moments like this.

"that's not fair," he whines when you lick your lips through your giggly amusement.

his eyes go from his hand, to your lips, to your eyes with something that looks like shame mixed with hunger when he murmurs, "i wanted a kiss, not... that."

your nose scrunches, "you didn't like it?"

"no," he's quick to clarify with a blush. he leans into your swollen lips, and when you finally let him kiss you, tasting like your cum and his spit, megumi thinks he might pass out.

"no, i loved it."

#megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi smut #megumi fushiguro smut #megumi fic #megumi fushiguro fic

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sughuru · 5 months

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you’re late

- gojo satoru x reader and young! fushiguro megumi

you forgot to pick up a certain someone from school.

genres/warnings: fluff, reader is gojo’s s/o, platonic relationship with megumi, kinda ooc, more of a thought that came to my mind, not proofread

notes: hopefully i’ll have time to write more as christmas break is finally here!! as always, english isnt my first language so ignore any errors, thank youu!

home | masterlist

—

You were impromptly called in by Yaga to take over a second grader’s mission in Kyoto and you had just finished. You checked the time on your phone and noticed it was almost 4 PM. As you were heading home you decided to stop by the supermarket to grab yourself a drink and perhaps a snack and some candies for Tsumiki and Megumi, although, they’d probably be eaten by your boyfriend anyway.

As you were walking home, you received a phone call from your loving boyfriend, Satoru. You answered the call, a small smile forming, “yes, darling?”

You could hear Satoru chuckle from the other end of the phone, “Hey, babe! Just returned from a mission, have you picked up Megumi?” he asks. You froze on the spot, almost dropping the groceries earlier. You gripped onto the phone tighter, your other hand tightly clutching on the plastic bags.

“…weren’t you supposed to pick Megumi up?” you asked, worry washed over you as you quickly sped walk home.

Noises from Satoru’s end of the line were loud, “huh? I thought you— damn it! Can’t you see I’m calling the love of my life?” he seems to be in the middle of a exorcism. You sighed and quickly ended the call.

“Okay okay, fuck, I forgot!” you quickly turned around and made your way to Megumi’s school. Your heart was filled with guilt, realizing that you really did forget to pick him up as you remembered that Satoru did remind you last week that he couldn’t pick the young boy up today.

Standing right outside the school gate, you entered to look for the tiny boy. You noticed a little boy with jet black hair by the swing, swinging himself back and forth. As you got closer, you could hear soft sniffles.

“Gumi?” you softly called out and the boy turned around, revealing it to be Megumi indeed. You quickly ran up to him, “I’m so so so sorry…I forgot— I accepted a mission and completely forgot Satoru couldn’t pick you up and Tsumiki’s at a sleepover.” you quickly hugged him tightly. Megumi didn’t say anything.

“I-it’s okay…” Megumi’s soft voice cracked which made your heart shatter a little more, you noticed there were dry tear stains on his cheek.

You picked him up, “as an apology, how about we get some ice cream, yeah?” you grinned at him.

Megumi nods, clearly still upset by the whole situation; but who could blame him?

At the ice cream store, you allowed him to get two scoops of his favorite flavors. The boy seemed to be in a better mood after eating.

“Megumi, I’m really sorry again, I didn’t mean to leave you alone for so long at school!” you quickly apologized again and the boy shook his head, “it’s okay…it was a mistake, right?”

You blinked, “of course it was!” That’s when you realized something.

Megumi and Tsumiki’s father abandoned them when they were really young, you had assumed that Megumi had no recollection of those memories but today’s situation says otherwise.

Realizing that Megumi thought that you and Satoru were abandoning him and his sister caused you to slightly tear up.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, I-“ you quickly wipe your tears but Megumi’s small hands beat you to it. He attempted to wipe it off with a tissue before throwing it away.

“It was an honest mistake, I-i understand, okay?” he muttered. For a seven year old, you couldn’t believe how mature he is for his age.

You nodded, “yeah, yeah.”

Megumi nods. The air was so thick, you were about to break the ice when Megumi looked up again, “Y/N.”

“Mhm?”

“…don’t tell Gojo, okay?” Megumi starts as he mixes the melted ice cream that is left in his cup, “you and…Gojo won’t ever leave me and Tsumiki, right?”

You pulled him into a hug, “of course not! I wouldn’t even dream of it!” Megumi gave you a small smile, “promise?”

“A promise.” you reassured the boy once more as you tightly hugged him more. It was evident that Megumi seemed to relax after you hugging him.

Later that evening, you explained the whole situation to Satoru. To make up for your mistake, you took Megumi and Satoru to his favorite dog cafe and let him stay as long as he pleases.

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erzyu · 1 year

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effective parenting tactic to get your kid to listen - pretend you are abandoning them

#gojo satoru #megumi fushiguro #tsumiki fushiguro #jjk art #erzyuart #i’ve been reading a lot of gojo n the fushiguros fics lately i fear i am going to be annoying w my found family agenda

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niki-phoria · 19 days

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EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU, I LIKE IT, I LOVE IT

pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 505

notes: sorry for the late post, i've been too busy reading zb1 fanfics to write anything lmao, possibly ooc megumi, not proofread, title from soulja boy - kiss me thru the phone

it wasn’t often that FUSHIGURO MEGUMI allowed himself to be vulnerable. even with the people he trusted the most, it always felt as if there was a wall separating him from others - a barrier preventing him from fully allowing himself to feel any love or comfort in fear of it being ripped away again.

it was hard - even if he pretended like it wasn’t.

you had come to see many different sides of megumi over your time at jujutsu high. you had watched his glares become softer and long silences shorten until he would freely share his ideas with you. somehow, when it came to you, all of his defenses had failed, one after another. he found himself looking out for you - watching over your training sessions; following after you during missions; waiting at your bedside when you got hurt.

something about megumi was different. something about you was different.

falling for you was fast. it happened before megumi had realized what was happening. brief glances had become nervous touches, and nervous touches had become long conversations that lasted far into the early hours of the morning until megumi found himself lying beside you in your bed, falling into a deep sleep almost as quickly as you did.

the morning had come quickly and quietly. sunlight seeps into your dorm room through your open blinds, casting your sleeping figure in golden light. megumi watches intently as your chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm; stray strands of hair frame your relaxed features.

despite himself, megumi smiles softly at the sight. he reaches up before gingerly resting his hand against your cheek, stroking his thumb against your skin. “y/n,” megumi whispers. you stir in response; your face twitches as you bury your face into the crook of his neck. the feeling causes heat to spread across his face and goosebumps to rise along his skin. “come on. we have a mission.”

you lazily wrap your arms around his waist, tugging your body closer until your head rests against his chest. megumi does his best to ignore the butterflies swarming throughout his stomach to little avail. “not yet,” you rasp out, nuzzling yourself even closer to him.

he purses his lips. your body is warm beneath the covers as you nuzzle yourself even closer to him. as much as he hates to admit it, megumi would much rather lay in bed with you then watch you risk your life to kill a curse yet again.

“gojo-sensei will be upset if we’re late,” he sighs. cool hands slip underneath the fabric of your shirt, tracing shapes into your bare skin. you startle momentarily at the feeling, but don’t move much otherwise. “y/n…”

you simply frown in response, tightening your grip around his waist. “five more minutes,” you murmur. megumi freezes when you blink up at him with flushed cheeks and tired eyes. “please?”

it wasn’t often that megumi allowed himself to be vulnerable. but with a request like that, how could he ever say no?

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silkscream · 5 months

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once bitten, twice shy

megumi fushiguro x reader

ੈ✩ wc: 3.1k (i cannot write anything under 2k to save my life)

ੈ✩ tags: emotionally constipated megumi, tsundere basically, friends to lovers, a lil angst, not actually unrequited love, pining, alcohol, typical yuuji nobara antics

ੈ✩ a/n: this is not xmas themed despite the title BUT it does end up taking place on satoru's birthday for plot reasons. megumi fushiguro your intimacy issues bewitch me mind body and soul.....

megumi does not know what to do with his feelings.

he’s never been the type to be particularly in touch with them — he didn’t remember his parents enough to blame them for whatever avoidant attachment he’d accustomed himself to. or maybe, that was the exact cause of said attachment style. gojo taking him in when he was a child didn’t help either — the man also refused to be very vulnerable around him, merely acting as a benefactor and a nuisance at best.

and while he was closest to tsumiki, he’d still built up a wall around himself that she couldn’t get through, and she knew it. she couldn’t break through it in his pre-teen years, and certainly not his teenage years when he was taking out his aggression on his classmates. he would ignore her soothing words and resent her kindness. perhaps he’d taken after toji in that way. constantly fending for himself for the sake of survival. always convinced that he was doomed to be alone.

and then there was you.

he’d met you first at jujutsu tech before any of the other students could. after sparring with maki, he’d been dismissed to shoko’s office. he’d opened the door that september day and was immediately met with your wide eyes, your searing cursed energy. gojo had found another stray.

shoko had made him your first experiment and you excelled. his injuries were healed within minutes. if anything, he felt better than he had in months — after battling insomnia and panic attacks, he felt… calm. like his brain was cleansed and that he had nothing to stress about. (until the next time gojo had gotten on his nerves.)

your introduction to his class was nothing extravagant despite gojo’s theatrics. megumi couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you after that — during practice battles, lectures, or lunch. he was always hyperaware of your presence. he blamed it on your cursed energy.

he hates how enthusiastic yuuji is about you, how yuuji tells him about how he manages to get you alone even though you often keep to yourself, and how he thinks you’re so fucking pretty, and that you’d agreed to watch the human earthworm movies with him. (megumi had refused when yuuji asked.)

he stews in that anger quietly because he’d rather die than let anyone know. nobara knows better, of course. she teases him about it and brings up jealousy.

why should megumi ever be jealous of yuuji? the boy was a freak accident in human form, with no inherent technique. who fucking cares that he can make you laugh without any effort?

it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t. because you have no direct effect on megumi and you don’t distract him during school. he doesn’t cling onto the memory of your hands on his skin. he doesn’t wish for the feeling again. of course not.

he tells this to yuuji and nobara, too. there’s one day where nobara goes too far — she teases him about setting up a date, that you rave about him, that he’s definitely your type. megumi doesn’t believe a word of it, especially because you’re probably more comfortable with yuuji. he doesn’t care to date because it would hold him back. he’s too focused on his training, on being the best, because he’s determined to follow in gojo’s shadow even if he won’t admit it. he could be the second strongest. he could be the most reliable.

it comes out in all the wrong ways. he’s more irritable than usual, so he yells at nobara instead of seething in hushed tones. he rants about how he does’t need someone by his side, certainly not you, whose only benefit is to heal superficial injuries and not much else. how your combat skills are poor, how easily you get beat when you spar on the field. how compared to him, you’re weak, so you’re of no use.

unfortunately, you hear him. every thought on his mind that tumbles out of his stupid mouth, his tone spewing wrath. you know that megumi is a moody person, but you’d never think him to be mean.

you pretend you’re just passing by, but from the faces nobara and yuuji are making, megumi already senses your presence. the color drains from his face, cobalt eyes wide.

“i’m — i’m sorry, i didn’t mean —“

“it’s okay, fushiguro,” you say softly. even after that shitshow, you’re still fucking smiling. it puts a sinking feeling in megumi’s stomach.

“ah, i got an extra pack of mochi and thought you guys would like it.”

you hand over a small bag and megumi takes it wordlessly.

“that’s so sweet,” yuuji beams, attempting to deflect. “hey, i was just looking for you. do you happen to have those jujutsu history notes? kugisaki spilled a soda on mine.”

“you knocked it over!” nobara protests.

“you put it on top of my stuff!”

you take your notebook out of your bag and hand it to yuuji graciously, avoiding megumi’s gaze and making up an excuse to see all of them later.

apparently, “later” means a week after. megumi sees you in class, and while he attempts to walk you to the dining hall or invite you to hang out, you bolt out the door before catching anyone’s attention. he has to find out how you are from fucking yuuji, who somehow gets to see you around the dorms every other day.

“i think she just likes to keep to herself, s’all,” yuuji says. he can sense megumi’s anxiety just from being in the same room as him.

“but you see her all the time.”

“she’s been tutoring me a little. and we just like the same movies and stuff.”

yuuji shrugs casually. his nonchalance makes megumi’s blood boil, because of course he’s the one who gets to occupy all of your time. of course you’re probably most comfortable with him. he knows he shouldn’t be seething at the thought of you two together — it isn’t his right. but his jealousy is starting to get the best of him lately.

“are you guys together?” he blurts out.

“no?” yuuji furrows his brows. “if anything, i feel like nobara might be trying to make a move since she’s way nicer to her than she is to us. except i’m pretty sure she and maki have been going out lately.”

“maki?”

“dude, keep up!”

and when yuuji accuses of megumi having a crush again, the same way nobara did all those weeks ago before he made a fucking fool of himself, megumi shuts it down with a grimace and a blush. he’s merely concerned about your wellbeing is what it is. that’s what he’s able to muster up to yuuji, of course, who absolutely isn’t buying it based on his shit-eating grin.

it’s annoying, especially because yuuji can make you feel more comfortable, comfortable enough to hang with the whole trio, and the pink-haired bastard has to meddle like a little troll. bumping the two of you into each other like you’re in middle school. somehow, it worsens everything. not your dynamic, but megumi’s self-consciousness.

he was already so extremely aware of you, but now he’s convinced that some angel above has tied the red string between you both extra tight. megumi looks for you in every crowd, awaits your arrival every day in the classroom and at lunch, and it’s starting to feel pathetic — the lightness in his chest whenever you’re even so much as ten feet away. his heart even beats faster at the anticipation of your text in the group chat, for fuck’s sake.

and then there’s gojo’s birthday party, a surprise orchestrated by the four of you, despite megumi’s reluctance. you’re particularly more radiant than usual. maybe it’s the lighting. maybe it’s the dress you have on.

despite the amount of shots he’s been forced to take in the past hour (three), megumi is still sober enough to feel anxious around you. though, he thinks he might be drunk enough to be lost in your image, fixating on your collarbone and the way your hair falls in your face as you laugh at one of gojo’s stupid jokes. it’s when the two of you lock eyes that megumi feels out of it, because you smile at him. you fucking smile.

if the warmth of the liquor wasn’t currently raising heated blood to his head, he’d deny the sparks that came from the mere sight of your smile, but he was hopeless. you’re mesmerizing. dizzying. he doesn’t know what to do with his face, not when his cheeks are flushing red and his motor skills are slowing down. fuck, maybe he was a lightweight like gojo after all.

he’s clearly out of touch with reality, because the moment fades as soon as it comes. perhaps it wasn’t a moment at all. he watches you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, your mouth moving slowly as you mingle with other classmates. he’s fucking fixated on your mouth — your lipstick tonight is a blush red with a shiny gloss reflecting light. megumi has only dreamed of what your lips would taste like once or twice. no more than that. he swears on it.

there’s brief eye contact between the two of you again for half a second. there’s a coy smile on your face as always before you slip out the back door of the house.

there are so many bottles around the place that no one will notice megumi taking an entire bottle of champagne for himself. he scowls at the taste, of sickeningly sweet pears — courtesy of gojo, probably. his head swims and thinks of you.

his momentary peace is rudely interrupted by the sound of nobara’s voice in his ear, asking for you.

“ijichi’s setting up karaoke!”

“there is no way in hell that i’m—”

“i don’t care what you do, emo, but i need her to do a duet!”

megumi heaves a sigh, making his way to the backyard where he finds you sitting on a tree stump. even with the dim fairy lights, he probably would’ve missed you if not for the cherried end of your cigarette.

“fushiguro-kun,” you nod at him.

“megumi,” he rasps. “just… megumi is fine.”

“oh, i get special privileges now? how come?”

there’s no mirth in your tone. you’re teasing him. he doesn’t answer your question.

(the mere act of you teasing him becomes an intimacy in itself — he had never thought that you would be comfortable enough to talk to him in jest. you’d maintained your distance from him fairly well.)

“didn’t know you smoked.”

“only when i drink,” you shrug. “ieiri-san doesn’t make much of an effort to hide her cigarettes, either. don’t tell on me, though.”

“wouldn’t dream of it.”

he doesn’t know where to look. luckily, you’re not looking at him, so he can settle his gaze on your mouth nursing the cigarette. plump. glossy under the moonlight.

megumi is not used to wanting. he had never asked gojo for anything during his adolescence, and refused any gesture of kindness from anyone. he was convinced since childhood that there was no point in desire because disappointment would be on the other end of it either way.

he’d like to be a monk about it. he could control himself and focus on his studies. never spare you a glance again that isn’t platonic. and then a cool december wind blows past the two of you, and he smells your amber perfume.

and when he turns his head, you’re looking at him, eyes bright.

“so… not enjoying the party?”

“i’m not really one for parties.”

“me neither,” you shrug. “that’s why i like to do my little ritual of escaping.”

“we have that in common.”

you hum, a noncommittal noise. you take another drag of your cigarette, which disintegrates slowly.

“what a pair, the two of us.”

megumi can’t pick up any sarcasm from your voice, though he assumes it. it makes his stomach drop even though the statement is harmless. the two of you. together. it makes endless futures bloom in his mind. maybe it’s the prosecco, but it almost makes him want to vomit. to think that he was even good enough to be beside you in your future.

you curse quietly when you pull your phone out of your jacket pocket to check the time, realizing it’s dead. megumi gives you a once-over. the jacket you’re wearing is all too familiar. like him, you’re not one to wear very many colors. but this jacket is bright red, varsity style, and oversized on you.

“is that itadori’s jacket?” megumi stammers.

“oh, yeah. i didn’t realize how cold it would be tonight.”

“oh.”

“why?” you give him a curious smile.

“nothing,” he coughs. “are… you two…”

you laugh and it’s like a song to him.

“i think he might be my best friend, s’all. why? you jealous?”

he looks at you again, head-on, your eyes still bright. brighter than fluorescents. there’s something in your irises that is meant to provoke him, but he’s dispensed of his usual cautious nature after he takes another gulp from the bottle.

“more than you can imagine,” he huffs.

“sorry?”

“’m not repeating that.”

“what, you’re not saying you’re like, into me, are you?” you exasperate.

megumi remains silent, cheeks flushed. he thinks that if his head could heat up any more, he’d end up with a migraine.

you breathe the tiniest gasp. if it wasn’t for how close megumi was to you, he wouldn’t have noticed.

“i kind of thought you hated me, you know,” you admit.

“i could never hate you. i don’t think anyone could.”

“you don’t have to pretend,” you sigh. he didn’t notice until now that your cigarette was finished, discarded onto the dirt with your boot to crush it into ash. “i— beyond the politeness, i get it. that i’m not your type or whatever. you don’t even have to be friends with me, fushiguro-kun.”

“megumi,” he emphasizes.

“megumi.”

“i’m not pretending. i… i really fucking like you,” he slurs. “it kind of scares me how much.”

“you’re drunk.”

“i am. i know you heard me say all that shit to kugisaki and itadori, but it’s because they put me on the spot and i was nervous. i don’t know how to… deal with feelings. honestly, if i wasn’t even a little drunk right now, i’d probably have left the party with my tail in between my legs and avoided you for the next fucking week, and you don’t deserve that. you deserve… everything.”

“even you?”

when did you get so close to him? if he sauntered just a few inches in your direction, he could touch your noses together. he can smell your perfume so deeply.

“it’s the other way around,” megumi breathes. “i don’t deserve you. not anything close to you.”

“what if i want you regardless?” your voice is just above a whisper. a prayer, a hymn. a wish to be blown out.

megumi swallows the lump in his throat. he blinks at you, dark indigo luminescent. the world slows down. he may owe it to the liquor and the wine, but he assumes it’s just your presence. your scent, the softness of your hair in between his fingers, your soft breaths.

“what do you want, megumi-kun?”

he remembers something gojo said. that to be a jujutsu sorcerer, he has to be selfish. he’s not sure if that philosophy applies to the situation at hand, but he’d be damned if he let you crawl into bed tonight without knowing how he truly felt about you. so, uncharacteristically, he takes a leap forward.

he unwinds the tension in his body and presses his lips to yours. it’s soft, chaste, innocent. something like a pause. he’s afraid to touch you, but you’ve already reeled him in with arms thrown around his shoulders, fingertips touching the softness of his black hair.

you bump your nose with his, shyly, and he kisses you open-mouthed. tongue in your mouth, meshing the taste of tobacco and prickly pear. the vanilla chapstick that he’d put on before he followed you out to the backyard.

he has one hand caressing your jaw and the other on your shoulder, thumb brushing over your collarbone in a way that makes your entire body shiver. you’re embarrassed at the pool of desire in between your legs.

megumi has never let himself be full of wanting, but at the moment, his veins are surging with it. it’s like a drug to him — your warmth, your scent, the saccharine taste of your mouth. your flesh is so soft, so pliable, from the way you dip towards the cavern of his lanky body, pressed against him chest to chest. letting his hand dig into the fat of your hip. fingertips grazing the skin underneath your shirt.

maybe it’s the liquor, but he’s feeling experimental — he tucks your bottom lip in between his teeth. pulls your hair ever so slightly. you mewl into his mouth quietly and he thinks that he’s never felt anything better than this. you’re wrapped up in all of him. you can quite literally feel the heat on his cheeks and both of you realize how aroused he is, his bulge prodding your thigh.

“fuck,” he whispers into your mouth, and he pulls away. only a few inches are separating you as he takes a moment to breathe. his eyes are blown out wide, black stretching across dark blue. both of you are stunned, panting, and the tension is more palpable than ever.

a rustling of grass makes both of you jump. when he turns, he sees yuuji and nobara staring with wide eyes.

“you owe me 7,000 yen,” yuuji deadpans to nobara.

“seriously, fushiguro? i didn’t think you had it in you!”

“i always had faith in you, fushiguro!” yuuji chimes.

while you giggle, megumi growls under his breath at the new intrusions of dumb and dumber.

“i personally thought you were way out of his league,” nobara tells you.

“eat shit.” megumi seethes with arms crossed, and despite his wrath, he resembles more of an angry kitten to you than any potential threat.

“sheesh, don’t summon a shikigami on them, megumi,” you tease with a pleased grin.

“i—” he stumbles over his words in frustration, grimacing. “what do the two of you want, anyway?”

“gojo-sensei got ijichi to sing doja cat.”

“oh, i’ve gotta see this,” you snort, grabbing megumi by the hand as you begin to usher the crew back inside. his heart leaps at the feeling of your fingers intertwined with his.

despite his inhibitions, megumi’s decided that he could get used to this.

#megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut

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edmeom · 3 months

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jjk memes pt.13

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

#itadori is your dream photographer #megumi still loves animals #did i read too many fics where megumi feeds stray cats? probably #by too many i mean 2 or 3 #jjk #jjk memes #jujutsu kaisen #itadori yuji #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #itafushikugi #itafushi #gojo satoru #geto suguru #shoko ieiri #jjk shoko

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satoruluvies · 1 month

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what's your type?

a short fic on how you found out how you weren't yuji's type. it's fluff and happy i swear.

yuji finds himself in a very difficult situation, already thinking of how to do damage control as he grabs your hand and starts pulling you away from the small crowd. this time however, the damage wasn't done by him. at least not entirely.

it was a few days after the sister school games with the kyoto school. your boyfriend and you along with nobara were visiting megumi in his dorm bringing him pizza when suddenly todo, apparently a student from the rival school decided to crash the little gathering.

you'd had heard of him from yuji and he wasn't exactly the type of person you see yourself getting close with, which is why when his eyes scan you up and down you couldn't help but cringe.

“hm so this is your girlfriend?” todo studied you closely as he rubbed his chin in concentration making you scoot a little closer to your boyfriend.

“yes!” yuji beamed at you but then glanced back and forth at todo and then at you trying to figure out what's going on.

“i didn't know your type changed, brother” ah that's what's going on.

that's also what got you in this set up. empty hallway with yuji profusely trying to explain or apologize. you couldn't tell with the way he nervously played with his fingers.

“y/n-”

“so what's your type then yuji?” he winced at the name, different from all the loving nicknames you used to call him. no yu no babe, baby, love just yuji.

“you i swear” he rubs the back of his head sheepishly, only earning a scoff from you.

“drop it. i thought it was jennifer lawrence? surely todo doesn't think you'll actually date her? or is he as delusional with other people's lovelife as he is with his own?”

“i might've… described…” yuji really should've kept his mouth shut but hey, he thinks it's better than hiding things from you even if it were as trivial as his type. only, it doesn't seem so trivial to you.

“so what is it? what's your type?” you press on stubbornly, crossing your arms and raising a brow waiting for his answer.

“t-tall girls with big butts” he flushed red and looked away. “to be fair it was before i met you everything changed when i met you you're perfect please” yuji held your hand and flashed his puppy dog eyes you always lose against.

“the concept of an ideal type is bullshit” yuji chuckled at your grumble and held you tight. “exactly babe! just because i find certain features… nice doesn't mean i’d immediately love them for it. it's all about what the heart wants and my heart wants you. only you.”

“you and your words…”

he only laughs as he holds you even tighter, if that's even possible, placing tons of light wet kisses all over your face.

“next time someone asks me what my type is i will say it's my adorable girlfriend” he smiled, peering down at you still not letting you go from the hug despite you squirming to get away.

“you do that” he finally loosens his grip around you. “but…” you slowly took a few steps back, a smirk on your lips.

“what are you upto?” yuji tries coming closer but you wave a hand to stop him.

“when someone ask me what my type is i will say it's cillian murphy!” you stuck your tongue out and dash away.

“hey that's not fair!!” yuji ran after you, laughter echoing the hallways of the school bringing life to it.

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lees-chaotic-brain · 1 month

Note

The first years become one year old babies due to a curse and Gojo and his wife have to take care of them

WC: 1.5k

CW: female reader (reader referred to as wife), slight jjk spoilers (dad gojo), swearing, not beta read

Note: here you go @sitarawrites!! hope you enjoy! sorry this took so long...

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When your husband walked through the door holding a takeout bag filled with your favorite spicy food you knew he had fucked up. That man wouldn’t touch anything even remotely spicy with a ten foot pole, so it always made you a little nervous when he bought it and brought it home for dinner.

“Toru.” You plant your hands on your hips and level him with a firm look. “You’re not fooling me. Just get it over with.”

He batted his eyes innocently. “Why, whatever are you talking about? I haven’t even done anything. I just got home.”

“Uh huh. Then what’s that about?” You point an accusatory finger at the takeout. “You only buy dinner from that restaurant if you’re trying to bribe me into not being mad. Seriously. I’ve been married to you for over two years now. Your cheap tricks don’t work on me anymore. Just tell me what you did.”

“Aw, can’t a dutiful husband just buy his lovely wife her favorite food every now and again?” He finishes removing his shoes and steps fully inside, leaving the front door open behind him.

“Gojo Satoru.”

You’re clearly not amused, and definitely not buying it. At the sound of his full name he gulps and shoots you a nervous glance, his blue eyes wide.

“I’m telling you I-”

“Spit. It. Out. Now.”

Your lethal tone cuts off his pathetic last ditch attempt at denial, and he visibly shrinks into himself.

“Fine. You got me.” He lets out a high-pitched giggle. “I just want to preface this by saying I took them straight to Shoko and she said they would be completely fine and back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Okay…?” You already didn’t like where this was going, nervous anticipation settling deep in your gut. Nothing had better happened to the three first years. You loved those kids like they were your own. “Continue.”

He takes a deep breath.

“BasicallyIkindofaccidentallygotthefirstyearsturnedintobabiesandYagawillhavemyassifhefindsoutsoIbroughtthemhere.”

His outburst winds him, and he wheezes, leaning against the door with a hand on his chest.

“What? Satoru I…” You trail off, staring at the small head that poked into your house through the open front door. A very familiar head of orangish-brown hair. Not moving a muscle, you blink at the toddler that toddles into your house. The toddler that looked eerily familiar.

“Gojo Satoru.” You speak, not taking your eyes off the small child. “That better not be my Nobara.”

“Well, erm, the thing is…one moment.” He steps back into his shoes and darts out of the house. As he fled, the tiny human approached you, clearly recognizing who you were. Deciding to let him be for the time being, you crouch down so you’re eye level with Maybe-Baby Nobara.

“Hey sweetie.” You boop her nose, eliciting a loud squeal. “Are you Nobara?”

The baby babbles excitedly and claps her meaty hands when you say her name, confirming your suspicions. Before you can process your realization, a shrill scream that you recognize as your husband pierces the air. Scooping the lively child up and into your arms, you hurry out the front door to investigate.

Upon stepping outside, the first thing you notice is a baby sitting in your front yard shoveling handfuls of grass and dirt into his face. The second thing you notice is that the baby is unmistakably Yuuji. Putting your husband's screams on the back burner for the time being, you dart forward to deal with him.

“No! Don’t eat that!” You gently pry the dirt from his chubby fists, unable to stop yourself from giggling when he gurgles at you happily with a muddy grin. Unfortunately, the renewed sound of your husband’s scream ruined the cute moment as you were forced to deal with your overgrown man child.

You grabbed Yuuji, propping him on your other him before standing and renewing your search for Satoru. It didn’t take long to find him, as he came hurtling around a corner, one of Megumi’s divine dogs hot on his trail. Confused, and enjoying his panic a little bit too much, you peered around the corner and spotted the last first year on the back of his other shikigami. Ah. That’s where the divine dog chasing you not-so-beloved husband came from.

Trusting Megumi to make his own inside (plus he had grown up in this house and you knew his divine dogs wouldn’t let anything happen to him), you turn head in the direction you saw your husband sprint.

You wanted answers.

The five of you sat in your living room after you had convinced Megumi to call his shikigami back and wrangled your husband out of the tree he had taken refuge in. Now Satoru sat in an armchair while you sat on the sofa in front of him, Megumi snuggled in your right arm, Nobara in your left, and Yuji on your lap.

“So. Here’s how this is going to go. You are going to start from the beginning, and tell me EVERYTHING. You’re not going to leave out any little details that might get you in trouble. You’re going to give me the whole story.”

Nodding sheepishly, your husband explained that he had taken them to a curse site and waited outside while the three first years completed the mission that was supposed to be his. When fifteen minutes had passed, and they still hadn’t returned he went to check on them and found them in their current state. Panicking, he had taken care of the curse and rushed them to Shoko who examined them and told him they would be fine by tomorrow.

“-So I brought them here for the night.” He finished his story, and shot you a pleading glance. “I’m begging you. Yaga will get me in so much trouble if he finds out. It’s just one night. We can take care of them.”

You scoff. “Please. I was there all throughout high school. The worst you’ll get is a scolding, which frankly, you deserve. So bring the poor kids to Yaga who is more qualified to look after them than the both of us combined.”

“Please? For me, the love of your life?” Desperation glimmered in the depths of his vibrant blue eyes.

You shook your head firmly. “There’s no way. We’re not equipped to take care of three tiny humans, even if it is just for one night.”

“Please babe?” He gave you his best attempt at puppy dog eyes. “We raised Megumi and Tsumiki just fine! We got this.”

You opened your mouth to respond, fully prepared to continue ignoring your husbands please when you were distracted by Megumi shifting in your arms.

“Mama…” He nuzzled sleepily into your neck with a soft mutter. Feeling your heart melt, you planted a kiss in his messy black hair and readjusted your grip so you could cuddle him better.

“I’m here baby. I got you.”

Stirring at the sound of your voice, Nobara gazed up at you from your other arm, clearly jealous of the attention Megumi was receiving. Wrapping her chubby arms around your neck and clinging tight, she made a face at Megumi. Thankfully he ignored it and peace was maintained.

Catching the way your eyes softened, your husband saw his chance and swooped in to take it. “Aw, see how much they like you? Imagine how sad and confused they would be if you left them with someone they don’t know that well? Plus I know you think they’re cute. Come on. It’s not like it’s forever. Don’t you want one night to cuddle with them to your heart's content?”

Glancing down at the two babies snuggled in your arms and the third slobbering around his own fist as he sat on your lap, you couldn’t help but admit that they were rather cute, and spending a night with them wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

“Fine.” You concede, ignoring your husband's cheers. “One night. I’ll take care of them one night. If they’re not back to normal by tomorrow, you have to take them to Yaga. Deal?”

Your husband quickly agreed, too relieved to argue. “Yes yes yes, of course. Thank you. Thank you so much. You’re literally the best. I love you more than anything. My wife. The light of my-”

“Shut it.” You cut him off with a sharp look. “Sweet talking isn’t going to get you out of this. You’re still on thin ice, and don’t think we won’t be talking about this later.”

With a pout your husband acknowledged what you said before leaving you to play with the babies while he went to go buy some baby food.

And despite your griping and idle threats, later when you were snuggled up in bed with the three babies while Satoru slept on the floor, you couldn’t help but be a tad bit grateful for the incident.

#lee's brain writes #lee's brain writes: requests #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #fluff #jjk fic #crack #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #gojo satoru #shoko ieri #yuji itadori #itadori yuji #nobara kugisaki #kugisaki nobara #first year babies au

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livinghostly · 5 months

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miss me if you want to — megumi fushiguro x reader

a/n: happy late birthday pookie wc: 3.6k megumi ends up at his old middle school for a mission, and reminisces on his time there, with you. fluff/humor, happy ending, gojo being his dad self

megumi kept his hands in his pockets as he scoped the halls of urami east middle school, desperately trying to ignore the entourage of sorcerers behind him and their barrage of questions. unfortunately for megumi, nobara just discovered a commonality. (“fushiguro, let’s go beat up that guy! for old time’s sake, you know!” “kugisaki, you can’t just point to every man and ask to beat them up. we don’t know anybody here! and you can’t say old times sake if you didn't even go here, right?”)

it took all his willpower not to turn around and curse them both back to jujutsu tech, their voices burning through his ears and building an irritation in his gut. any of his old classmates who recognized him seemed to gape, just before ducking their heads and scurrying down the hall. it didn’t give him much to work with regarding the assignment. his friends giggled, poorly hiding it behind their hands.

it was hard for the nostalgia of his middle school and the presence of old peers to settle in with the constant whispering behind him, even if part of himself wasn’t sure that he wanted to reflect on his time there. he remembered the cream-colored walls and tan uniform jackets being less harsh on his eyes, every memory he could recall was hazed over with a dark grime.

the smell of freshly waxed floors and chalk dust washed over him like waves, passing his old classroom’s doors that were propped open. he could hear the muffled lessons, and wondered the last time he really used any academics from–

“fushiguro, why don’t you have anything in the trophy case?” nobara pondered, dragging her finger along the glass border.

“they’ve gotta have one for the best stink-face, right?” yuji howled with laughter. “you’d totally win!”

“can you guys get it together? we’re not going to get anywhere if you keep messing around,” megumi said, not bothering to spare them a glance. he refused to prove itadori right with his stink-face. “go walk the south corridor, there’s a few offices for the staff, they might know something.”

“fushiguro,” yuji whined.

“go.”

reluctantly, his friends shuffled away. “yeah, i think we kind of pushed our luck that time,” nobara mumbled.

finally, he reveled in the silence. there was a bud of anxiety in his stomach, a nagging feeling that just around the corner would be a teacher to chastise him for his history of delinquency. on the other hand, the possibility of seeing one of the many faces he had beaten and bruised.

megumi rounded the corner that led to the library and various study rooms, keeping his gaze on the windows. he remembered the landscape being different, more sullen, but still captivating him as much. he remembered his frequent trips to the library when he wasn’t spending his time rounding together the bullies and failures that infested the school.

the library wasn’t special, but he could always–

“megumi?”

megumi’s eyes widened as he whipped his head forward. the voice, though unexpected, was unmistakable in his mind. his bud of anxiety bloomed when he saw you, your head tilted in the same bewilderment. out of all places, he didn’t expect to see you at the place you graduated, just over a year ago.

the fog that coated all his memories seemed to dissipate, recollection of you clouded with a glow that couldn’t compare to the way you looked now. your school uniform was haphazard, white button up untucked and rolled to your elbows and your dark jacket was discarded on the library cart you leaned on. your confusion washed away and your face was taken up by a bright smile, and with that megumi blushed furiously.

“y/n? i didn’t expect to see you here.” he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his composure, and closed the gap between you so all that was left in the way was the cart. you craned your neck to meet his gaze, he’d grown a bit. “don’t tell me they made you repeat.”

shaking your head, you laughed. he missed that. “you’re telling me, you’re supposed to be all the way at jujutsu tech. what are you doing here?”

“i asked you first.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. always so combative.

“i use my free period to help out here, it’s only like a five minute walk from the high school.”

megumi hummed. so you decided to stay close. it was always a toss up.

“so, how’s jujutsu tech so far? everything you wanted and more?”

megumi smiled, recalling the day he told you that’s where he would be attending, and you found it completely ridiculous. hilarious, even. a religious school, for him? if you hadn’t met gojo before you would have thought he was sentencing megumi there as some sort of punishment for his delinquency at school. unfortunately, you had met gojo, and the idea of him teaching at a religious school and dragging megumi with him only drove you to further hysterics.

the humor you found in all of it almost made up for the lies he was feeding you. a part of him longed for you to have some cursed energy to see all that he did, so you could understand the life he lives. maybe if you did, you would go to jujutsu tech with him, and he could share more of his life with you.

but megumi knew you were much better off without it, and without him. here, in your home environment, you were glowing. you were living a good and safe life, and he would keep it that way.

so, he fed you more white lies. kept it all vague and lighthearted so you could sleep easy. the school staff was capable, his studies were improving, and his classmates were… tolerable, at best. or so he claimed. the lighthearted jokes at their expense were always followed by a compliment on their character, you knew he was fond of them.

before he knew it, the two of you were strolling around the campus together with your shoulders glued to each other like you were back in routine. everything about being with you again was timeless. you still exaggerated with your hands and paused at the ends of your sentences to enunciate with your facial expressions, and always stayed on his left side so he didn’t have to face down the beating sun when he was looking at you. and he was always looking at you.

every once in a while, your hand brushed up against his and his movements would stutter. he would wait for some sort of reaction, though he wasn’t sure why. confirmation, that it was okay? or to see how much he could get away with. you acted as if it was nothing, and he wondered if you’d stay like that if he closed the distance and finally grasped your hand with his.

megumi had your school blazer draped over his other arm. he wasn’t much of a talker, even with you. but it seemed once you were able to get his shoulders to relax and his guard slipped a bit more, he rambled on about the more trivial things in his life. his friends– “i wouldn’t call them that” – and their endless enthusiasm. it’s like they were born yesterday, and every day in tokyo they lived like a fish out of water. they dragged him into a lot of things, but also held him back. megumi rolled his eyes when you said it was probably a good thing, since you weren’t around to do that anymore. you also weren’t very good at it.

megumi couldn’t look at you when you smiled like that, like an all-knowing entity that can see through the cracks in his image. like you knew him better than he knew himself, because in some ways you did. he looked at the ground, his shoes, and the trees, anything that couldn’t perceive the blush that ran up his neck.

“fushiguro?!”

he didn’t realize the lax in his composure until he tensed up again at the screech of his name not too far behind him. his smile dropped and he was brought back to the reality of his situation, being on a mission, scrounging for any murmurs about this curse he was meant to be hunting while dragging around two idiots with him.

nobara and yuji were pale from shock, stiff as boards at the sight of their fushiguro cozy with some stranger. nitta was next to them, jaw agape as she stared and slithered her phone out of her pocket.

megumi’s eye twitched.

“fushiguro, is this why you sent us off to the teacher's lounge? to flirt?! with a girl?!” yuji cried, pointing an accusatory finger as he fell to his knees. the pavement cracked beneath him as he slammed his fist into the concrete in despair.

“fushiguro, don’t tell me you’ve gone soft for some pretty girl? we’re here for business!” nobara claimed, crossing her arms.

“they’re your friends you were talking about, ‘gumi?” you hummed, looking at him. you batted your eyelashes with an amused expression.

god, no. he couldn’t spit out the words when he was barely holding on to his composure at the nickname. these people, in the matching uniforms? never met ‘em.

a gust of wind weaved itself through your hair and yuji was at your feet, his incredible speed surprising you enough that you sidestepped right into megumi’s chest. his breath hitched, somewhere between a gasp at the sudden contact and a sigh of disappointment towards yuji’s behavior. nobara was quick behind him, her anger had dissolved into a teasing nature.

humiliation swelled in his chest and lumped in the back of his throat, in the back of his mind he was routing all the ways he could get back at yuji later for the way he was acting.

“you told her about us?!” yuji said, his excitement warming the air around him.

“‘course he did,” nobara smirked. “we are your best friends, aren’t we, ‘gumi?”

megumi sighed. he wouldn’t live that down. “y/n, this is itadori and kugisaki, they’re the other first years at jujutsu tech. this is y/n, we went to middle school together.”

you smiled and offered a finger wave.

“middle school, huh? and you’re still here?” nobara’s eyes sparkled. you wouldn’t admit out loud that the intensity in her grin made your stomach turn. she placed a hand on her chest dramatically, “you get in too much trouble? got held back? i understand the life–“

“you must have the funniest stories about fushiguro!” the pink-haired boy interrupted with his laughter. “did he ever–“

“i need to walk y/n back to her class before she’s late,” megumi cut him off sharply. “head back to the car and i’ll meet you there, after i get back we should get going anyway.”

without a second thought, he grabbed your arm gently and tugged you with him to turn around. you were able to call out a quick, it was nice to meet you! before you were pulled around the corner.

his steps were quicker than yours so his hand made its way to the small of your back as he ushered you to meet his pace and put the distance between you and the gawking seagulls behind him.

your heart stuttered at the contact but you didn’t stop him, and instead leaned closer to his side. that seemed to jolt some sense into him, his fingers tensing and relaxing again on the soft fabric of your uniform and ultimately deciding to stay put. that didn’t make him any less hyper-aware of it, though. he flickered gaze from you to the sidewalk, back to you, and the sidewalk again.

“i’m sorry about them. they’re idiots sometimes,” he mumbled. “most of the time, actually.”

the path to the highschool felt oddly familiar. the trees waved gently in the wind and beckoned him back to his memories of walking you home from school, the warmth of the sunshine on his skin much the same as the warmth that sprouted in his stomach when he was around you.

he always stood straighter when he was beside you, squeezing your hand tightly when crossing the street and tucked you under his arm when passing by anyone he deemed suspicious. which, to a young megumi who saw the world in black and white, was much of the population. in those times where his adrenaline was pumping, he never thought twice about protecting you. even against what you couldn’t see, like curses, strolling through the streets unchecked.

“don’t apologize, ‘gumi. they seem like fun.” you chuckled, rubbing your knuckles gently. you couldn’t blame them for their reactions, nor could you blame your friend for not ever telling them about you. he was always a bit reserved. “i think they’re just excited to learn something about you.”

you had classes with him, and there were often times he would come in late with bloody knuckles and his hair tousled. most days he would tell you why, how they were smoking on school grounds or picking on someone in the cafeteria. other days he wouldn’t, he refused to even give you an idea of the things they said or did, and though it drove you crazy for a few hours you would eventually drop it.

and he got to keep it to himself, the way other boys would talk about you. despite not knowing you, they made their assumptions and boasted about untrue speculations. rumors and comments were short-lived when he was around, and he wondered if it stayed that way after he left.

megumi carried the secret of the jujutsu world on his shoulders, all the unruly death he’d witnessed, his sister’s curse. despite the way he’d grown in the jujutsu world and how desensitized he’d become to some things, they still haunted him. he’d would’ve liked to keep something good a secret too, just for a little while longer.

“yeah, well, i think i’d rather keep you to myself.”

“don’t tell me you’re embarrassed of me.” your teasing tone was in one ear and out the other for megumi. his tongue swelled in his throat as he tripped over his own words. you laughed, and he seemed to relax.

his hand had slipped from your back and rested between you. you found the confidence to grasp the sleeve of his uniform and keep a hold of it comfortably, watching his expression melt into a smile he couldn’t hide behind bitten cheeks.

you weren’t one to ever think you could change megumi fushiguro, though there were many times you were the one repeating in his ear to just let it go so you could go eat lunch together. (on the flip side, there were also times you were chanting his name off the sidelines watching it all unfold on your lunch period like an MMA fight). you never sought to make him a softer, more well-rounded student, nor did you ask him to ever open himself up to you.

but he did, and despite the time passed be still preened his vulnerability to you like an open wound seeking care.

“i missed you, y/n,” megumi said suddenly.

“those jujutsu tech kids can’t replace me, huh?”

he smiled, shaking his head. “it’s not even close.”

the roof of the highschool peaked over the trees ahead.

“i missed you too, ‘gumi.” a question laid on the tip of your tongue, and you quickly swallowed it before it could tumble out. “do you think… that you’ll come by again? when it's not for some school project?”

“i’m sure i could find a reason to.”

you looked up to him, meeting his amorous gaze. it was your turn to blush, scrunching up to hide the bashful smile that threatened to take over. “you have my number, you know. it hasn’t changed.”

megumi nodded. “yeah, things have been… busy, for a while now. it’s hard to get away.”

the two of you closed in on the school’s entrance, still tiptoeing the line of hand-holding. megumi faced you fully now, silent, and blocking the sun’s rays as he stared down at you with his eyes full of adoration. he looked at you like he did on graduation day– a heavy cloud of fear hanging above him, pouring down the terrifying thought he would never see you again.

“call me and tell me all about it, yeah?”

he smirked. “i will.”

he always clung to darker clothes and aesthetics, but you thought he looked best in the sunlight. his dark hair was coated with a navy luster, similar to that of his eyes. you could see his reddening cheeks better, when there wasn’t any shade to hide them.

“thanks for walking me back,” you said, your gaze flickering around his face, soaking in his appearance while still in front of you. he had already changed so much since the last time you saw him.

“it’s not a problem, i’m happy to spend time with you.” megumi paused, reaching for the door handle with a pit in his stomach growing. “i hope i didn’t make you late.”

you smiled. “i think i’ll be okay.”

a beat of silence passed, and your face twisted into one of concentration as you stared him down. a small sigh left your lips, one of surrender as you settled on your decision. he registered the shift in your demeanor and he narrowed his eyebrows as he observed.

you grabbed the lapel of his uniform suddenly and tugged him downward to connect his lips with yours. the initial impact softened when he registered his surroundings and relaxed, molding against your grasp and sliding his hands over the curve of your waist. relief washed over you and you ran your fingers over the nape of his neck. he paused briefly, to catch your reaction as you regained your breathing, and then nudged his nose against your cheek before kissing you again.

megumi’s breathing was quick, excitement drumming through his body as he focused on you, and only you. he never had the luxury of anticipating this, expecting such affection from you was reckless and selfish despite all the times he’d thought of it. here you were, before him, unknowingly giving in to his delicate fantasies.

you pulled away, breathless as you met his eyes. his smile was gentle, expression refrained while his admiration poured into his steel grip on you, keeping you close.

“call me, okay?” you let out a winded laugh, brushing your thumb against his flushed cheek.

megumi nodded, swallowing the desperation that clawed his throat. you stepped away, and he ached for your warmth on his skin again. he was still reeling from the interaction, helplessly watching with an emptiness in his hands as you slipped out of his grasp and opened the door for yourself.

you disappeared, and he was left alone with the resounding click of the door.

bonus

“y/n! oh, they grow up so fast.” gojo cradled nitta’s phone in his hand with a wobbly lip, wiping a theatrical tear from his cheek. a fuming fushiguro was pictured with all his focus aimed towards his friends, with you awkwardly smiling at his side, completely ignorant to nitta’s rapid clicking. gojo swiped through the photos quickly, watching megumi’s mouth snap open and closed over and over. he sighed longingly, “the one who got away.”

nobara leaned forward on her crossed legs, tensely gripping the loungeroom couch. “i knew they had history, fushiguro was totally defensive over her.”

beside her, yuji was perched on the armrest with his eyes blown wide– bearing resemblance to a gargoyle. “yeah, he got all clammy and weird. i’ve never seen him like that before.”

“well,” gojo set the phone down on the coffee table, for all to see. “megumi can be a little rough around the edges, but he’s got his moments.”

“so, what’s she really like? was she shoving people in lockers like fushiguro? i bet they were some sort of sick power couple, she seems like she’s got a dark side.”

their teacher smirked, leaning back in the armchair as he listened to their conspiracies. ‘sick power couple’ was a quite generous interpretation of your and megumi’s younger days– gojo recalled the awkward preteens you were, bumping into each other and melting into a flushed state during study nights (strictly stated by megumi not to be referred to as dates). gojo never, ever helped such situations, often making them worse with a shove or teasing comment at the boy’s expense.

“ha! i doubt it, she was way too nice to us.”

you were moreso a bystander to megumi’s antics, sometimes a cheerleader. but it was still like you to snap, or slap, him back to his senses whenever he got all ‘high and mighty’ like some ‘reactionary douchebag’ –stated in your own eloquence. gojo remembered the times you’d unlock the front door and throw it open with one hand, dragging a frustrated megumi whose physical bruises mirrored the ones on his ego. you’d throw him to the nearest chair and welcome yourself to the apartment’s amenities while he wallowed in silence, both of you waiting for the air to settle and ignoring the presence of his guardian and his amused expression.

“man, fushiguro must be pretty bummed right now.”

the loungeroom door swung open abruptly, the door handle cementing itself in the drywall. megumi presented himself in his rage, his cursed energy fiercely blazing around him and crackling at his fingertips. his expression was dark, eyes immediately drawn to the center coffee table with nitta’s own slideshow presentation of yet another humiliating moment for him.

nobara and yuji were struck with fear, paling in solidarity with the wallpaper. nitta quivered behind them, crouching.

gojo let out a low whistle. “someone’s going through it. don’t tell me she left you on read.”

#fushiguro megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #jjk megumi #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fic #reader x megumi fushiguro #jjk #jujutsu kaisen megumi #spleen writes #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi x reader fluff #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen

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missmeinyourbones · 8 months

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we NEED "i'm just too soft for all of it." IWHT MEGUMI PLS IM BEGGING

I'M JUST TOO SOFT FOR ALL OF IT (m. fushiguro)

a/n: me making up medical shit LMFAO, repressed and emotionally constipated megumi, deadbeat dad t*ji, slight mentions and undertones of toxic masculinity

L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!

Since he was four years old and still growing into his long-sleeved sweaters, Megumi has learned to heal his own wounds or almost die trying.

A routine that he now knows like the back of his hand, he'd returned from his latest mission with weeping cuts and exhaustion clear beneath his eyes, making a point to stop at the medical closet before returning to his dorm. With Shoko's workday over, he makes a mental note to visit her first thing in the morning when he wakes.

He can make it through the night, he always does. Because Megumi is a thinker. He plans until he can't and covers all bases for when they're stolen. He gets by.

What he didn't take into account was potentially running into you, of all people. Dormitory halls barren and almost eerie, he nearly curses himself for brushing shoulders as you turn the corner on the way back to your own room.

Your timing has always been wrong, or maybe it's right and Megumi can't differentiate between the two.

And now he's here, on the creaky wooden floor of the medicinal closet, with you kneeling beside him and prodding at his injuries with tender wrists.

Never one to be good with idle hands, Megumi fidgets and tries to brush at the dried blood on his shoulder. The action has both of you hissing—him in a jolt of pain and you in reaction to his hurt.

"Don't touch it," your voice falters to be stern, still coming out so gently. Megumi thinks about the irony of that—of how you can't even be sharp if you tried. You're too gentle, too soft to even sound hard momentarily.

Humiliated at the mere idea of doing nothing, at needing help, he shakily exhales and returns his attention to the floor.

When the damp cotton pad in your hand touches a bit too deep in one of his cuts, Megumi does his best to save face but can't help the grunt of breath that gets sucked into his lungs.

Immediately, he feels you retract from his skin and coo your apologies. Carefully returning your attention to the burning wound, you do your best to soothe him.

"Sorry, it's deeper than it looks. Almost over."

Megumi's response is quick and curt, like a cut of its own, "It's fine."

You nod hesitantly before grabbing the bottle of antiseptic and another clean cotton round. The cleaning of his wounds continues in silence, though your thoughts are louder than anything.

His injuries vary in size. Some deeper, fresher, than others. Some looking like one-hit victims and others a repeated attack. You do your best to take note of where he's sensitive, where he's hurting the most.

When you reach a certain scratch on his bicep, you're able to catch a glimpse of his face. Sweat beading on his forehead and damp hair sticking to his skin, Megumi bites the collar of his uniform to suppress any kind of noise (weakness) from you.

When he slips up and lets out a guttural muffled groan, you think you might audibly whimper yourself.

"You can yell if you want to," you try to help him in any way you can, "or squeeze my hand or—"

"I'm fine," Megumi attempts to bark again, but this time is different. It's not cold or sharp like it was last time. You can hear how it shakes against the echos of the closet, how it sounds like the burn of tears building in a sore throat.

And between the pain everywhere he still has feeling and the intimacy of you carefully caressing him, Megumi finds himself tearing up.

"Hey," he feels you whisper, attempting to caress his jaw and prompt him to look at you, "hey, you okay?"

He can't find it in himself to answer nor lift his head, so he sniffles like a kicked child and crinkles his nose in disgust at his own pathetic actions.

Megumi is tough, one of the toughest people you know. You've seen him more beat up than this and barely break a sweat. Your head feels light at the realization that something's wrong. He shouldn't be in this much pain from the familiar burning of antiseptic he's felt a dozen times over. Maybe it's from a cursed weapon, or a technique where—

A stifled sob cuts you off.

Like a glass cracking beneath pressure, you feel something inside you break. No longer caring about cleaning his cuts or avoiding sensitive areas, you can't stop yourself from wrapping around his hunched frame.

Megumi's breath hitches as you hold him, feels your hair tickling his neck when you rub his back and whisper.

"I'm sorry, I know, but you're doing so good, okay? And I'm almost done—"

"Don't do that," he bites.

Assuming he's referring to prodding at a specific wound, you flinch and loosen your grip, "Do what?"

"Talk to me like that," he snarls with a crack, "in that—voice."

He feels your head remove its weight from his shoulder slowly, "Why?"

"Because I can't—" Megumi's voice almost breaks before he whines, gritting his teeth when he whimpers, "I can't handle it."

And just like that, Megumi is four years old again. He's scraping his knee on the concrete of his front lawn, and a blurry father-shaped figure with dark hair and legs far too tall tells him to be a man. Not being old enough to use the stove without supervision, but still knowing enough to save his cries for his pillow when Tsumiki is snoring and can't overthink his tears. He thinks of Gojo—of the first time he broke down in front of him and was met with whispers of good intent and love that registered in his brain as pity. Humiliation.

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels your fingertips on his wet cheeks, replacing the stinging of antiseptic with a fluttering and velvety touch.

Between sniffled strings of apologies and a few hiccups of words that don't quite make sense, you piece together that Megumi isn't crying because he's in pain. He's crying because he can, because you're helping him in a way he never asked for, let alone known.

"I've never...been allowed to, like, feel—"

"Hey," you're soft again, as if you ever weren't. "I know," fingers delicately brush his sticky eyelashes when you remind him, "but you are now."

"Are what?"

"Allowed," you whisper against his cheek, "to feel however you want when you're around me."

And Megumi doesn't know how you do it. How you remain a light in a world that's constantly doing all it can to kick you while you're down. Maybe you're just naive, so stupidly optimistic that it'll eventually be your own demise. Maybe.

But, Megumi can't find himself to care, because he knows that for as long as he's on this earth, he'll be damned if he lets anything happen to that light of yours.

Back to reality and rubbing at his stinging eyes, Megumi softly scoffs. "Y'know, sometimes you look at me with those stupid eyes and I don't know what happens, but I almost feel sick."

Your laughter tastes like water, "I know what you mean. But in a good way though, right?"

"Yeah," he nods, "in a good way."

When Megumi's back finally hits his mattress at an ungodly hour of the morning—something he's been dreaming of since he'd left it hours ago—he's sickeningly sore and his eyes burn with hypersensitivity. He lets himself close his eyes thinking of your hands, the ones that soaked his now scabbing wounds and wiped his watery eyes.

Megumi plans, sure, but he never could have prepared for you.

#L’s MIDNIGHTS EVENT!#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi angst #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fluff #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fic #megumi fushiguro fic

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ipostmysimpingstuffanonymously · 9 months

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You can't tell me she wasn't the cool babysitter for at least some time

#Warning headcanon dump hahahah #megumi got into fights at middle school all the time and shoko was the one patching him up #he always called her ieiri because he's shy like that and shoko just always pinched his cheek for it #the mcdonnalds one is inspired by a fic called heartbreak soldiers disappointment junkies by bby_rabbit #just megumi telling gojo he's lonely and shoko snikering at that #also hc that tsumiki wants to become a doctor just like shoko #and on her graduation day in middle school shoko braided her hair #plus the kids saw shoko go though med school and she was such a bad influence lmao #but shoko also stopped smiking because she spent more time with the kids #and shoko knowing megumi in baby size and suddenly he gets a growth spurt and is taller then her #ugh my heart #there is not enough shoko & megumi fanart out there #listen #they are baby #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #megumi fushigoro #tsumiki fushiguro #jjk #fanart #jujutsu kaisen #IPMSSA_FoundFamily!Fanart

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lymtw · 2 months

Text

NSFW

Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Description: It doesn't matter that you're in love with Toji's son. He can still take care of you in ways that you can only dream Megumi will ever be able to.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Um… Mr. Fushiguro, have you seen my bra? I swear I threw it over here somewhere.” You lay completely flat on the ground and search under the bed. You find your shirt, your pants, and your underwear, but there’s still no sign of your bra.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he says. “You know, I would help you look for your lost treasure, but, I just get so sluggish after a good fuck. Especially when it’s with your greedy self.” He chuckles quietly to himself, replaying the sound of your voice saying ‘more’ in his head.

“I know, it’s just… I don’t want to leave like this. What if Megumi comes home? I’m indecent.” You grunt as you stand up. You turn around to obscure your private areas, like Toji hadn’t just seen every part of you, and get dressed into what you could find.

“He’ll know he’s been waiting too long to fuck you, and then you kids can start going at it like rabid animals.”

It was a little uncomfortable to talk about being intimate with the man’s son, especially since you had just given yourself to him.

You turn to face the older man, and to your surprise but prominent relief, he has your bra spinning around his finger by one of the straps.

“Oh my god, thank you! Thank you so much, Mr. Fushiguro!” You smile brightly.

“First, it’s Toji. When you call me ‘Mr. Fushiguro’ it makes me feel ancient. Second, what are you thanking me for?” He stops spinning the garment and begins feeling the material.

“You found my bra. I don’t have to leave with my nipples poking through my shirt.”

The last statement drew attention to your chest from him. While he stares, he feels the little red satin bow that sits in the middle of your bra.

“Mm… I think i’ll keep it.”

Your heart dropped, and then the anxious feeling returned.

“It’s an incentive for you to come back to me. You can get it back next time, but only if you trade it for the one you’re wearing.”

“Mr.- Toji.” You inhale, a polite smile on your face. “Can I please have it back. I can’t walk out like this.”

“Sorry, baby. Just know that every time I look at it, i’ll think of how I manhandled you today.” He puts the garment on the pillow next to him, an act that made you lunge toward it to try and get it back.

“I thought I told you you couldn’t get it back today.” The devil shows its face through him. His grin is wicked, his eyes lidded like getting a rise out of you is no big deal.

“Then you can keep it because i’m never coming back here. You’ll never get me alone with you again.”

The man chuckles like you’re crying over spilt milk. “Come on, baby. You’re being dramatic. You should be glad that I want a memento for today.”

Your piercing gaze is the last thing Toji sees before you turn around and leave the room. You quickly create some distance from Toji’s room to kill any suspicion that arises from Megumi, but it was as if you had summoned your best friend the second you got two steps away from Toji's door.

“Hey, Megumi,” you try to say casually, like your heart isn’t in the depths of your stomach. He walks in clutching one of the straps of his backpack.

“Hey, sorry I made you wait so long. I know I said 3:30, but I had some things to finish up after class.”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries. I think i’m gonna head out right now. I have to work on the index cards for an upcoming presentation.”

Megumi’s eyes keep looking down at your arms over your chest.

“Are you cold or something? Here, take my jacket.”

“No, i’m fine. Megumi-” you pause abruptly, defeated. He’s already taking it off and handing it to you. You can’t deny him when he’s pushing it towards you.

You hear the door to Toji’s room open and take the jacket quickly, seeing the chance to cover your chest up while Megumi is distracted.

“Kid,” Toji greets his son, simplistically.

“Dad, ugh…” Megumi looks away in embarrassment. His nose scrunches and his eyebrows furrow. “Can you get decently dressed? Please?”

You turn around, catching a glimpse of the outline in Toji’s pants.

“Oh, i’m sure that your friend doesn’t mind that i’m comfortable in my own home.” He fires a wink towards you.

You turn away again, flustered. “N-Not at all. I’m gonna go. See you later, Megs. Thanks for the jacket.” You pick up your backpack from the wall it leaned against and walked as quickly as you could.

“See you soon,” Toji says.

The door is opened quickly and shut even quicker. Your heart races and your stomach has not stopped turning since Megumi got home. Your house is a far enough walk to give you time to think about why things happened the way they did.

“Why do you have to be so creepy?” Megumi grumbles, picking his backpack up from the floor, ready to head to his room.

“You would know all about creepiness, huh? Little weirdo,” Toji bites back.

Megumi huffs, walking off. Sometimes he wonders if the man is older than five.

“Wait, one more thing.”

The younger man turns to face him again. Careless, lidded eyes meeting a smug expression.

“Are you taking care of her?” Toji is the only one who knows the hidden meaning behind that question, leading to a confused reaction from his son.

“She’s just a friend from school. I’m sure she handles herself well enough.”

Toji snickers at the response, quickly coming up with something else that is just as confusing for Megumi.

“Are you checking her oil?”

“She doesn’t drive.”

Toji can’t hold back a chuckle, but throws one more curveball at Megumi.

“Have you attacked the pink fortress yet?”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Megumi’s annoyed now, wanting to leave this conversation so badly.

“Jesus Christ, are you fucking her?”

Megumi’s eyebrows furrow like it was a preposterous thing to ask, especially by his father.

“No, i’m not. We’re just friends.”

“You should definitely get on that. She’s waiting for you.”

Now Megumi was interested. Not in the sex, but in what Toji saw when you talked to him. There must have been some spark to insinuate that he was capable of bedding someone as pretty as you.

“What do you mean?”

“‘See you later, Megs.’” Toji mimics your voice. “She wants your dick, and you’re so oblivious.”

“I’m done with you for today.” Megumi doesn’t even know why he expected a different response—something more realistic.

“Later, Megs.” He copies your nickname for Megumi.

—

It's been two weeks and you still feel like shit for screwing your best friend's dad. It doesn't help that he won't stop texting you, constantly reminding you of what happened.

Hey

You look away from your laptop for the first time in an hour or so, only to look at the smaller screen next to you. You roll your eyes, not wanting to indulge in whatever Toji wanted from you.

Three minutes went by and you didn’t respond, so Toji sent another message.

You still mad?

You didn’t intend to read the message, but you did through your peripheral vision. It only made your skin crawl even more.

Answer

Why aren’t you answering? Quit leaving me on read.

You sigh, shutting your laptop. He won’t leave you alone until you answer so you put away your computer and toss yourself on your bed.

What do you want, Fushiguro?

Oh you’re mad mad huh? This is fun.

If you don’t tell me what the hell you want i’m blocking you

No need to be feisty baby. I’m trying to call a truce.

Give it back and i’ll think about it

Give what back?

Toji was grinning sinisterly behind the screen. He knew what you were talking about but it was risky for you to mention it through text. What if Megumi went through his phone and saw this conversation?

You know what i’m talking about. Quit playing dumb.

Fine. Come back tomorrow and you can have it back.

What time? I have to study with Megumi.

Ditch him

It’s not up for discussion.

Ditch him or you don’t get your bra back.

You sigh. Megumi is your best friend. Why he chooses to hang out with you? You don’t know. But doing this is gonna make you feel even less deserving of his friendship.

Fine

Good girl. I’m expecting you tomorrow by 4:00 sharp.

Don’t make me wait any longer than I already am.

You roll your eyes and shut your phone off, turning onto your side to get some much needed rest.

—

Morning crept up on you dreadfully. You weren’t looking forward to lying to your best friend, especially when it involved seeing his dad behind his back.

Class went by slow, as if you were being given the time to sum up the courage to tell Megumi that you wouldn’t be studying with him later. In reality, you were overthinking it like hell because when you got around to telling Megumi, he was cool about it. He shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal and said that he would study with Yuji.

Your phone vibrates against your thigh, so you check what it is and almost drop it in the process of trying to hide it back in your pocket.

Do you want me to pick you up?

The message is unanswered for the duration of your lunch break. As you’re walking back to class you quickly respond.

I’ll walk

—

The rest of the day went by too quick. As the end of your last class neared, your heart refused to calm down. It’s not like you were looking forward to seeing this horrendous man, it’s just that his last message left you on edge.

You walked the distance to Megumi’s house once again. You really took your time, not wanting to show any signs of eagerness or urgency to meet up with Toji. You felt your phone continue to buzz in your pocket, so you checked to see who was spamming you.

Hurry up

It’s only 3:40. You’re in no rush to get to him anyway.

Where are you?

I’m so fucking hard, can you walk any faster?

[Video Attachment]

Your ears suddenly fill with huffs and moans, and the slick sound of Toji fisting himself until his dick spews. You shudder, the sounds making your heart race.

Just know i’m not keeping these conversations

I bet you wish you could

Now that Toji is expecting you, he keeps an eye on the door. The second you knock, he jumps up from the couch and rushes to the door. The door opens and you can’t even get a word in before you’re pulled into the house.

The door slams, and your back hits the wall.

“Take your shirt off.” He crashes his lips against yours, not allowing you to do anything. His hands go under your shirt, feeling your warm skin beneath his fingertips. “You’re early. Missed me, didn’t ya?”When you feel him go for the hooks of your bra, you push him lightly, making him stop.

“Slow down, Toji. I don’t want to be fucked against the door.”

He rolls his eyes, “Forgive me, I didn’t know I was screwing royalty.”

You shove his hands away from you, your expression showing utter disappointment.

“Fuck you. I don’t have to do anything for you. Keep the stupid bra.”

He grabs your wrist as you reach for the doorknob.

“No, wait. I was just messing with you, kid. You don’t really want to leave, do you?” He’s thinking with his dick. The rock hard one that’s outlined in his pants, poking at your thigh.

You drop your hand, his hand still around your wrist. “I don’t want to stay if you’re just gonna be a jackass."

“It’ll be good. Come on.” He pulls you along with him to the room.

You enter the room, and it’s as empty as you remember. No photos on the walls or on his dresser. The most prominent thing being his TV mounted on the wall.

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me back here. You talk to other women, and I have no doubt in my mind that you’re messing around with them, too.”

You sit down with Toji at the end of his bed. He chuckles, his hand caressing your face. “You’re my favorite.”

“It’s wrong, Mr. Fushiguro.” You ignore the look on his face after hearing you call him by his last name. “Do you ever think about Megumi? He’s my best friend, not to mention, your son.”

“My son’s got one hell of a best friend. So fuckin’ hot.” He brushes your breast with his hand, his lips going for your neck as his hands continue their wandering.

“I don’t love you, I hope you know that.” You shut your eyes, engulfed in the sensation of his rough hands on your skin. You feel his kisses get harsher against your neck, luring a hiss.

“That’s okay, doll.” He chuckles, his breath hitting the side of your neck. “You don’t have to love me to let me destroy your pussy.” His hand trails down from your chest to your stomach before dipping into your pants. He feels the lace trimmings of your panties and goes beneath the layer, his fingers meeting your folds within seconds. “So wet already. You sure you’re in not in love with me?” He teases, a grin playing on his lips as he glides his middle finger between your slit.

Your chuckle blends with a moan. “It’s always like that when I see Megumi.”

“You’ll be waiting a while, princess. That boy lacks my personality.”

You gasp as his finger makes its way inside you, slowly pumping in and out. “Oh, thank god. He’s perfect.”

Toji’s lips purse in a form of annoyance. “We can stop talking about that little shit, now.”

“You jealous?” You giggle. The laughing stops and your heart pounds when you’re pushed back onto the bed.

“You think you're funny, huh?” You’re completely surrendered to Toji, your arms up and pinned by his hands.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, partially from the lack of touch, partially from the vulnerability of your position. You’re nervous, but you still manage to utter out, “Then why aren’t you laughing?”

He oughta fuck the sassiness out of you. You must really want Megumi to catch you in the act.

“Keep it up, sweets. Really want to hear you talking like this when I don’t let you cum.”

You go silent as your own decision, but the reminder that you’re there voluntarily sits in the back of your mind.

“You’re so pretty when you shut up. Love when you listen.” He grins, his hand cupping your jaw loosely.

He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. It’s not loving at all. Not with the way he bites your lip and tugs on it as he pulls away, leaving saliva and a sting on your lip that makes you wonder if he nicked you.

He exhales through his nose as if contemplating what to do with you now that you’re in his reach. There’s a lazy grin etched on his face, and he’s staring you down, taking in the clueless look on your face.

“Take it all off.”

You crack, a chuckle leaving you. What is so funny? He expects you to display yourself for him like he’s the one doing you a favor. The least he could do is peel the layers of clothes off of you.

“Forgive me, didn’t know I was in the presence of royalty,” you bite, mimicking his phrase from earlier. “The least you could do is take it all off for me.”

“Fucking hell.” He sits you up, grabbing the end of your shirt and pulling it up swiftly over your head.

You blink, a smirk on your lips when you see Toji’s deadpan expression.

“So lucky I love your tits.” For a second he was talking to them, not you. “So warm and soft and perfectly made to hold.” Once again you are pushed down onto the bed. He pulls his shirt off and takes off his sweatpants, tossing them somewhere in the room before laying over you, his eyes targeting your breasts. He pulls the cups of your bra down, allowing your breasts to spill out and display their malleability. “You’re killing me, mama.” His tongue licks a stripe over your right nipple, his fingers coming up to roll it in circles until it’s hard. “How can you keep this from me? Hm?”

Your breathing is shaky as he continues on abusing your boobs. You swear you could keep him there until you want to leave if you really wanted to. You wouldn’t even have to touch him anywhere near his dick and he wouldn’t notice.

“That feel good, pretty girl?” He only asks because he can feel your stomach quivering against his abs.

“I-I need more.” Your fingers run through his black locks, gripping somewhat as he just continues to lap at your stiffened buds. You could cum with just enough friction.

“You want me to fuck you?” He grins, looking down at you like you’re the pathetic one in this situation.

“Fuck,” you moan, loving the friction of his thigh between your legs. “C-Come on,” you mutter to yourself, chasing that shockwave of pleasure before Toji takes it away. He listens to the little pants and huffs you let out as you continue to roll your hips against his thigh, watching the way look around the room because you can’t even look him in the eyes from how flustered you are.

“That’s enough.” His hands easily put an end to what would have been a crushing orgasm. His hands push down on your hips. He thinks the way your thighs tremble is adorable, and your ragged breaths are even cuter. “Trying to get off on my thigh when my dick is right here? That’s the dumbest thing you’ve done so far.” He leans down, inches away from your face. “I know you were about to cum,” his voice goes sultry. He speaks enticingly, causing your pussy to flutter. “But, I can’t have that yet, doll.”

He kisses your chin, going down the column of your neck where he takes the opportunity to litter the area with rose colored marks.

“Why are you covering me in hickeys? It’s like you want Megumi to find out about us.”

“I want you to see them whenever you’re alone," he murmurs into your skin. "I know you’ll touch yourself to the memories of today.” He feels the way your nails sink into his biceps, causing him to look up at your slightly irked expression. “Don’t be ashamed, ma. I have my moments, too.” His hand reaches back down to play with your pussy again, his mouth now at your ear’s level. “You know what I really love to think about?”

“Oh,” you gasp. “W-What?”

“How easy it is to get you wet. Just gotta be close to you like this,” his middle and ring finger rub up and down your slit, slowly driving you crazy.

You whimper, closing your thighs around his hand. “Greedy as ever. Won’t even let me give you what I want without you taking more.” There’s a wicked grin plastered on his face, anyway. There’s a part of him that loves this greediness from you because it means that a part of you wants him, even with all your little fits.

"K-Keep—oh my god." You can't even get through your sentence when he starts kissing your neck while he continues rubbing your cunt.

"Hm?" He mumbles against your skin, slowly moving down towards you chest again.

"G-Go, keep going! I... I," you moan, only to be left panting with dissatisfaction.

"You're not gonna cum from my fingers, if that's what you think is happening." He raises his gaze to look at your teary eyes. "You gonna cry?" It makes him smile like the little sadist he is.

"Of course not," you say, blinking a tear away. "It's not like you didn't edge me three times already."

"You're just an impatient little princess. Wonder how my brat will handle this attitude from you."

It's a constant push and pull between you and Toji. He likes the challenge of making you submit because you like pushing his buttons when he wants to take his time.

You gasp when his thumb runs through your slit again, the rough pad giving your clit a couple rubs before pulling away again. It makes him chuckle, the way you tense at his touch.

"You're not that touch deprived, are you?" He puts a hand on each side of your head, leaning down to watch the flustered response your dumb little brain comes up with.

"You're the one messing with me." You huff, putting your hands on his chest.

"Don't you masturbate?" He asks, grinning at the tension that returns to your body at the question. "Touch yourself until you cum so hard that your brain goes numb?" He whispers in your ear, making you tremble. He teases your breasts, his fingers brushing them until you start squirming.

"I-I do," you stutter out.

"Yeah? What gets you going? Who's on your mind?"

He is a lot of the time. Occasionally, it's Megumi, but because most of the time he's so sweet to you, you find it a little hard to sexually fantasize about him. Whereas his dad looks at you like you're something he can pin down so effortlessly, and now has proof that can do it, too. When you go over to his house to study with Megumi, Toji watches you so intently, and you can feel his gaze like a laser pointer aimed between your brows. You can't admit that to him, though. His ego will burst from how inflated it is. You also want to see the look on his face when he you tell him that Megumi is what you think about.

"Megumi."

He lets out a deep chuckle. You can see the irritation on his face. It's something that makes you grin.

"We'll see if you're still thinking of him in a minute."

The precum on the front of his boxers is now visible, something that makes your heart beat so fast. He sees the way you look at the bulge in his boxers— half amazed, half scared. Now that managed to boost his ego regardless of you trying to throw him off earlier. You almost choke on your spit when he takes his boxers off. Your eyes go wide for a second, and your heart starts threatening to jump out of your chest once he gets back on the bed.

"H-How?" You ask, looking at the cocky expression on his face. He knows exactly what you're wondering about.

"We've done it before, we can do it again." He kisses your knee, his hand trailing up your thigh. He thinks back to the first time he got you in his bed, and how your eyes twinkled at the size of his cock. He laughs quietly at the image before him. Same woman, same reaction.

"It's gonna hurt again." You say, as he gets closer, his cock grazing your thigh.

"Only for a second, and then we both get the best orgasm of our lives." His hand caresses your face, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the apple of your cheek.

"Okay, fine."

"Good girl," he almost purrs. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about you since the last time you were in his room. You were so tight, almost like you were brand new. The feeling haunted him for those two weeks. Whenever Megumi came home, he looked out for you, hoping that when you did tag along, you searched for him too.

You couldn't deny that him calling you a good girl sparked something in you. It was approval from someone older than you, someone who is very attractive and is in the middle of showing you how attracted they are to you.

"You ready?" He asks, rubbing the outside of your thigh soothingly.

You nod, and Toji gives your thigh a little slap. You laugh at the smirk growing on his face, knowing what he's on about.

"I'm ready," you confirm more clearly.

"Good. I'll go slow like last time."

You nod, nervous again. He runs the tip through your folds, watching your face as he teases you. You look like you're premeditating the pain, your brows slightly pinched as you wait. The tip finally slides in, luring a whine out of you.

"Shh... it's okay. We got it going." It's always hard for Toji to be slow and gentle when you look like that, but he does it so that there are more tears of pleasure than there are of pain. He pushes in a little more, listening to every sound you make. The little whimpers as he stretches you while he works to make you take more of him in, the sniffling as tears start to brim in your eyes.

"Good, so good," he praises. He leans into the crook of your neck, kissing, and leaving souvenirs of your time spent with him. He attempts to distract you from the ache of him pushing deeper by biting your shoulder just hard enough to focus on the new area of pain.

"Ow, f-fuck," you moan, one of your hands tugging at his hair while the other rests on the nape of his neck.

"Just a little more. Almost there," he says, stifling a groan. While you're trying to adjust to his length, he's trying not to bust in less than a minute because of how tight you're clenching around him. "It's okay," he assures, unable to hold back a chuckle when he sees the tears gliding down both your cheeks. He wipes them away with his thumb and leans down to kiss your lips, using this as another distraction from the last push. You gasp and try to pull away from the kiss once he pushes the rest of his cock in, but Toji kept his mouth latched to yours, swallowing every whimper and cry that came with your pain.

He finally releases you, instantly noticing the new color on your tear-stained cheeks. You're blushing over his kiss?

"Didn't know a kiss would rile you up so much." He chuckles, wiping a few more tears off your cheeks.

"You never kiss me like that."

He sees the stars formed in your eyes. It's kinda cute.

"Eh, anything to get you to focus on something other than me stretching you out." He looks away for second to kill the romance trying to seep into the situation.

You put your hands on his chest and slowly move them upwards to his shoulder. "That's all of you, right?"

"Right. Can I start fucking you now?" He wraps your legs around his waist to give him better leverage, and positions his hands at each side of your head.

"Do it. I want it."

You shook something inside of him with that one.

"You want what?" He asks, making sure he's in his right mind and not just hearing what he wants to hear.

"I want your cock, Toji. Wreck me again."

It made chills run up his spine to hear you say that, especially with the way your nails gently dragged up and down his shoulders.

He starts moving his hips, starting at a slow pace even if you didn't ask him to. He pulls out, then slowly pushes in again. Your little moans are adorable every time he pushes into you again. He's turning you into a flustered mess with how intently he watches you. You can hardly hold eye contact with him. His face is inches away from yours, memorizing the way your lip quivers after biting it. Then he hears something that takes him back to the first time you slept with him.

"M-More, Toji. Faster, please."

"Greedy as always, hm?" His tone is raspy as he tries to remain composed. Nonetheless, he complies with your wishes, picking up the pace. The new pace instantly makes your chest rise and fall quicker, panting at the pleasure being fed to you.

"H-Huh? How's that?" He groans. "Don't wanna break ya." He chuckles breathily.

"F-Fuck, so good. Just want you... w-want you to make me cum," you moan, your stomach quivering.

"Yeah? Want me to make you cum?" He coos. The way your eyes rolled back made his cock twitch inside you.

"You're so fucking big, I can feel you rearranging my insides."

Toji realizes you've reached the point where you're so fucked out that you start babbling nonsense. This is his favorite part because when you're not talking, your moans get louder and fill in the silence perfectly. Your moans go straight to his dick, making it just so much better.

"You're so pretty like this, all desperate for my cock."

"Toji," you moan needily.

He can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You have a twisted way of making his heart race over something that isn't cardio.

"Toji..." you repeat, your voice like slick honey. Your nails dig into his back when he prods at your sensitive spot, your hips rolling up against his thrust.

"Fuck," he groans. "What is it?" His grip tightens into a fist on the sheets.

"I just really like saying your name. Fuck, Toji," his name rolls off your tongue again, the sultry sound reaching his ears so quickly.

"I will cum right now if you say my name like that again."

You giggle, watching a bead of sweat glide down his temple. You wipe it away the way he wiped away your tears, and this flipped a switch inside Toji's head. He laces his fingers between yours and pins them above your shoulders. You feel even more vulnerable beneath him, and he can keep you pinned there for as long as he wants.

"You think that's funny, doll?" He presses his nose to yours. Your pussy clenches at his tone, but you have no choice but to fend for yourself against this god of a man. So, you nod and bat your lashes at him. "Say it again."

"Toji."

His thrusts quicken and you feel like you're inching closer towards this 'best orgasm of your life' he mentioned before.

"Again," he grunts. His eyes are so dark as they keep you locked in his gaze. His lips hover over yours, ghosting them as you follow directions.

"T-Toji..." you whimper, your cheeks getting hot again like before.

"God... say it again," he croaks. He is so close, his mind is clouded as hell.

"O-Oh my god, Toji." You gasp, digging your heels into his lower back. You arch your back, rolling your hips against the bed as you cum so hard that you feel you might make Toji's knuckles bleed with how hard you dig your nails into them. Your toes curl and your mind goes hazy for a second. You're grounded by the feeling of Toji still drilling your sensitive cunt, chasing his own end.

"Oh fuck, just a little longer. Please, sweetheart," he groans, burying his face in your neck. You could hear hear all his moans and grunts so close to your ear as he gets closer to his orgasm. It fueled your attraction to him like gallons of gasoline fuel explosive fires, and it really did feel explosive in the moment. He nibbles on your neck as he nears his orgasm. Your thighs tremble around his hips, your knuckles white from the tightness of your grip.

"O-Oh fuck.. Gotta pull out, doll... Let me pull out," he says, releasing your hands and moving quickly as the cum threatened to burst out of him and into you. The emptiness in your pussy felt strange because you were filled by him for so long. You instantly missed the feeling.

You watched the frenzied state he was in with stars in your eyes, the look on his face as he released thick spurts of cum all over his stomach. The stuttered cursing as he swiped his thumb over the slit of his tip to collect the dollop of cum left. He chuckles, breathlessly, upon turning his lidded gaze to you. "Whatcha thinking about?"

You sit on your knees, and wait for him to catch his breath before saying anything.

"What is it, pretty girl?"

"Can I?" You look at the thick substance on his thumb.

"Really?" He asks, a smirk on his face that practically calls you pathetic. You nod, so he raises his hand up to your face, the pad of his thumb smearing his cum all over your lips before lowering your bottom lip and allowing you to taste it off the digit. You lap at his thumb, wrapping your lips around it once you licked it clean.

"You're so fuckin' nasty," he says as his cock threatens to ask for another round with you. He can feel it twitching as you suck on his thumb. The warmth of your mouth and the way you maneuvered your tongue around him was driving him just a little crazy. He can't help but stare at your glossy, saliva and cum coated lips.

You pull away, immediately licking off the cum on your lips. "What?" You ask, when you notice the way he's looking at you. Looking like he's going to pounce on you again. He developed a similar twinkle in his eyes as you.

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have to say anything. You gave me a look," you tease.

He's quiet for a second, allowing you to read the expression on his face. "There's just no way you can do that to my kid."

You burst out in laughter, slowly making your way to the edge of the bed. You see all your clothes on the floor and quickly locate your bra.

He moves towards the head of the bed, and leans on the headboard. "You'll kill him if you do."

You keep giggling as you get dressed. "Aw, did you almost die?"

He chuckles at your jab and leans into it. "Saw my life flash before my eyes for a few seconds."

You sigh contently, "Good. Well, gotta go." You start towards the bedroom door.

Toji quickly wraps the sheets around his lower half, and shuffles over to you. "So, when will I see you again?"

Your hand remains on the doorknob. "You're funny." You giggle, shaking your head. You turn the doorknob and open the door.

Toji pushes it shut and keeps his hand pinned on the door. "Tell me you've had better sex." His enticing green eyes hold you down, and suddenly you're fluttering down there again.

"I've had better sex," you challenge.

"Mean it, princess," he argues, but the corner of his lip twitches, a grin forcing itself out.

"I hate you." Toji swears that's the sweetest voice he's ever heard. You unintentionally sugarcoated your sentence.

"That's what makes it so good." His hand releases the door and settles on your shoulder. "I wanna see you again."

"You're obsessed," you laugh.

"I'm gonna text you."

You open the door again, effortlessly as Toji stopped putting pressure on it. You walk out, and Toji only takes a couple steps out to follow you, given the status of his clothes. "Remember, it's gonna be a long wait for Megumi. Boy's got no type of awareness."

"I'll gladly wait."

"Wouldn't mind keeping you until then," he shoots, eyeing your frame from behind.

"You should really find someone closer to your own age, Mr. Fushiguro," you tease, a playful smirk resting on your lips. You wave goodbye not turning to look back at him. Toji returns to his room, dropping the sheets as soon as the door closed.

Megumi won't be home on Wednesday

Come keep me company

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