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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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livinghostly · 4 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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thoughtssvt · 5 months

Text

forever my shrimp

the small spaces between infinity pt. 1

a teen dad gojo and kid megumi hc/blurb

megumi was always so sure of everything. even at a young age anything that should've been questions were decisive statements.

"i'm going to be taller than you when i grow up." he'd said as he curled around satoru's head, sandaled feet lightly knocking on his chest, short arms wrapping around his forehead.

"heh? how are you so sure? i think you'll be a shrimp forever," satoru teased, shifting to make sure that megumi was secure on his shoulders.

megumi chewed on the inside of his cheek as his young mind filled with reasons that explained why he thought so, but all that came out was a small, "'m not a shrimp."

satoru barked out a laugh as he brought up a hand to lightly pinch at megumi's calf. "sure, sure, but who knows? maybe your old man is."

The Small Spaces Between Infinity masterlist

Innocence Protection Program masterlist

a papamin and kid yuuji series

Jujutsu Daycare

a series au of the jujutsu high students as young kids

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chocochannie · 7 months

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Moonlight

megumi fushiguro x gn!reader

less than 1000 words

Sitting alone wasn't exactly how you imagined your evening.

You were supposed to hang out with Nobara, but she changed her mind minutes before your meeting because Yuji needed help with something. It was probably urgent, right?

The grass beneath you was cold, but you didn't mind. Wind slowly blew around, making quiet sounds. It was a peaceful night, perfect, some people might say. You looked up to see tons of little dots on the sky forming different constellations, you saw the moon and how bright it was. How big and quiet it is. You knew why you liked the moon so much, it reminded you of someone. Certain someone who would always help you, someone who would hug you everytime they see you even though they hate it, someone who would tell their sister every little detail about you, someone who makes you feel seen and someone who makes you feel special.

And funny enough, that person is walking to sit next to you right now.

You looked around to see Megumi smiling slightly and giving you a side hug. You two understand each other completely without saying anything.

You sat in comfortable silence stargazing until you feel his gaze on you. Why has he been looking at you for so long? Maybe he wants to talk? Maybe you did something wrong? You try to ignore his eyes exploring your body but you just can't. When he realized he's been caught staring he's fast to look away.

A few moments pass by, and just when you're about to stand up, you hear him say something that made your heart stop beating for a second.

"The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"

A simple sentence, yet you've been wanting to hear that for so long. Maybe you like the moon more than you thought.

Masterlist

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meguwumibear · 8 months

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wc 2.3k and contains: noncon, knotting, piv sex, alpha!megumi, human!reader, yandere themes, written with a female reader in mind, baby's like second time writing smut, i think that’s everything but always happy to add or tag new warnings if i missed anything

On a dark winter night, you come to him, lost and oh so terribly alone. The Japanese Alps are a common place for hikers to traipse. Always have been. Many come to make pilgrimage to the Buddhist temple that sits atop the holy Mount Tate. Others come to extract raw goods. They mine the minerals from the mountains and hunt the wildlife for sport and game. The discovery of a wolf pack nestled deep within its mountain ranges only served to alter common tourist paths, not deter travelers from them completely.

You are not like the usual adventurers. You are a small and fragile thing, even if you seem to think otherwise. Even if you think you are big and tough and strong, you are not. He will prove this to you time and time again with his own muscles and teeth and claws.

Human flesh bruises so easily, tears at the slightest bit of pressure. He has to remind himself to mind his teeth when he sinks his incisors into the thin skin of your neck. You have not learned what it means to submit yet, so he presses your cheek to the grass for you. He grants himself the access he needs to bite.

He does not mean to claim you. There are betas back at the compound that he can fuck, omegas for him to mate. Seasoned and well trained wolves that understand their place and their role in a pack. Beasts that will drop to all fours and present themselves to him, head down, ass up, back arched.

You are not the first human he meets. You’re not even the first human he knots. His pack keeps several on reserve at the compound. They exist to help their alphas through their ruts and their omegas through their heats. And they expertly execute their assigned duties. Defiance has been taken from them. With a bit of punishment and reinforcement, they learn.

The assimilation of humans into packs was necessary. Because wolves can’t bond with humans. Not really. Not the way they can another wolf. Humans don’t have scent glands for wolves to puncture and no amount of chewing or gnawing or knotting would change that.

Which means that your sent will remain your own, even once it starts to mingle with his, no matter how many times he sinks his teeth into you. His mark and claim will never take completely. It will never be skin deep. You will never fully be his. His bond with you is surface level. All evidence of it will fade if he doesn’t consistently trap you beneath his jaws. And you are oh so very stubborn.

The first time he takes you is the hardest. He does what he can to prep you for him, but your submission does not come easily. You fight against him and your nature. You thrash and wiggle beneath him, beating your fists into the ground, clawing earnestly at the loose bits of dirt. All of your squirming nurtures his prey instinct, but he fights against it as best he can. Part of him wants to release you to revel in a true chase. Instead, he presses your writhing form to the ground with his chest as he rids you of your clothes.

He does what he can to sooth you. Cards his fingers through your hair, strokes gently down your arms. The humans back at the compound seem to enjoy when he tends to them this way. It helps them relax. With a few simple caresses and a bit of patience, a human will submit to their alpha. It’s only natural after all.

Pack humans understand what’s in their nature. You do not.

Megumi’s never had to break a human in before. He’s always just enjoyed the fruits of the other wolves’ labor. He thinks he’d like to train you, to teach you to bare your neck, to reward your obedience and punish your defiance. If you were an omega, he’d press your nose against his neck and let you breathe in his calming scent. His pheromones would make you soft and pliant, eager to take his knot.

Omegas may be easier, but Megumi knows how and where to touch a woman. He’s had plenty of practices with the humans back home. He ghosts his fingers gently between your folds, rubs tiny circles into your clit, and soon enough you’re dripping for him.

“It’s okay,” he coos. He can smell your fear. Ripe and rotten like spoiled fruit. You won’t be able to handle him in this state. He needs to placate you further. “It’s natural to like this. You’re wired to. All humans are. You can’t help it.”

When your protests don’t end, he continues.

“Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks as he sinks a single finger inside your hot, slick core. It slips in easily, despite your thrashing. He has your belly pressed against the damp grass to limit your wriggling. His own bare chest is flush against your back. Weight, he’s learned can be comforting to an anxious human; they have a unconscious, unspoken need to be swaddled. “Don’t you want to be bred? Don’t you want to me mine?”

You have just enough strength left in you to whimper out a strained no. To curse him out. He lets you struggle beneath him, chuckling quietly to himself as you tire yourself out pushing against the forest floor, clawing away at the cold soil. The underbrush shifts around you as you stamp yourself into the foliage. Saplings will sprout here in a few weeks, their roots nurtured by your tears.

Patience is a virtue, and time is on his side. He can afford to wait out this tantrum of yours.

When your movements begin to slow, he lines himself up with your entrance. It isn’t ideal; he’d like to slip in another finger and test the give of your walls, but you aren’t making things easy for him, and his dick is so fucking swollen with blood and need if he doesn't fuck you soon he might knot from heavy petting.

“This is where you belong. Under an alpha. Under me.” His breath is hot against the shell of your ear. It’s what you try to focus on as he slowly sinks his tip inside you, stretching you open on the fattened head of his cock. You’re wet from his ministrations, but not enough to completely sooth the ache of taking an alpha’s cock.

Two juxtaposing groans fill the air. His satisfied and pleased. Yours distressed and pained.

He noses at your neck to take in your scent as he rocks his tip softly in and out of you, hoping his restraint will relax you. It was your scent that sealed your fate. Under the fading trace of your fragrant deodorant: you. Nicer than any of the humans he has back at the compound. Nicer than any of the omegas too. You don’t understand the importance of this, but he knows this means you’re compatible. This means you were created for him.

He wants to take his time with you. He really truly does. But he can’t help but think that the anticipation of taking his knot is partly, if not completely, responsible for your nervousness. Would it not be kinder then, to simply get the initial breech over with?

You scream as he buries himself inside of you. He does it quickly, presses his entire length into you all at once, cooing at you as he slides in. Your walls tighten in protest, doing what they can to force him out. Your scent is pungent and panicked, even when his movements cease. He’s never smelled anything like it before. The pack humans always smell so sweet like honey and sunshine and home. You are poison on his tongue.

Eventually, your pussy begins to adjust to his girth, loosening its hold on his cock. He resumes his thrusting then, slow and gentle like a human might. Salty tears streak down your cheeks as you sob so violently your entire body shakes. The humans at the compound enjoy when he talks them through this. He tries to do that for you now.

“Shh, shh, I know. It’s okay. You’re taking me so well.”

His placation is met with a grunt of protest. Nothing he can’t fuck out of you.

“Don’t fight it,” he says as his fingers find their way back to your clit. He strokes the swollen nub a few times encouragingly, reveling in the way your walls begin to clench around him. “I’m gonna take such good care of you. You’ll want for nothing. I’m-SHIT,” he can feel his resolve crumbling as your pussy milks him, “fuck-I’m gonna make you cum.”

The thought of him forcing and orgasm out of you spikes your adrenaline again. The arm he has wrapped firmly around your belly prevents you from crawling out from under him, but damn do you put up a fight.

He licks soothingly at your neck—where your scent glad would be if you were an omega. Your sweat is sour and bitter. The fact that he’s been unable to earn your submission makes his stomach drop. He is an alpha. He’s supposed to take care of his pack. That includes you now, even if you haven’t fully accepted it yet.

“M-UGH-my name’s Megumi,” he says. “You can call me that if you’d like. My packs not too far from here. I’ll take you there when we’re finished here. Help you build a nest.”

Humans are supposed to be introduced to pack concepts slowly, but there’s no sense in holding anything back from you now. Not while he can feel the beginnings of his knot catching on your entrance with each new stroke.

“Ever taken a knot before?” he asks. City wolves aren’t common, but they do exist. It’s possible you’ve met and fucked one.

He doesn’t expect a response but you’re shaking your head no. Your responsiveness is a good sign. It shows a willingness to please.

To reward you, he slows his movements and stops swiping at your clit. It stalls his own impending climax, but it’s worth it if he can get you to truly submit.

“You’ll like it,” he promises, burying his nose in the crook of your neck again; he can't get enough of your scent, bitter as it may be. “You’ll see. You’ll learn. You don’t belong with humans. You belong here, beneath me, naked and neck bared. Nothing will feel more right to you than your submission. I promise.”

He kisses what skin he can reach. Your right cheek, then the left, the tip of your forehead, each straining shoulder blade. It’s a human courting tradition, not a wolf one, but the familiarity of it seems to have a calming effect on you. He presses another kiss to your neck before biting gently at your ear with his teeth.

And, there it is. Quiet but audible to his wolf ears. A moan. Not in protest. But in pleasure.

“You like that?” he hums working your earlobe between his teeth again. Your pussy flutters sweetly around him as he licks a stripe up the shell of it. He wonders if any human has ever touched you like this before. They can be so prudish about spit and sweat.

While you’re distracted by his kisses, he picks up the pace of his thrusts, drilling into you with purpose, hips smacking loudly against your ass. It takes him a few strokes to hit the right spot inside you, but he feels your whole body tense once he does.

“That’s it,” he coos. You’re close. He can feel it. At the rate he’s going, it won’t take long for you to cum. He presses his thumb more firmly to your clit and rubs small, soothing circles into it. You’re overly sensitive, even without cumming, so he keeps the circles slow yet steady.

“M-Megumi,” you whine, the sound like honey, thick and sweet. There’s still some resistance in you. Some fear too. But he’s starting to sense something else, something close to genuine arousal.

He sniffs at your skin again, assessing, and is pleased to discover that your scent is changing. Still a bit sour but the sharpness of it is fading. You’re starting to smell like the woods around you. You’re starting to smell like him.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re doing so, so well for me. Taking me like you were made for me.”

He’s panting now, fighting tooth and nail to prevent himself from knotting until he’s gotten at least one orgasm out of you. As your fear ebbs, you become more responsive to his touch. You arch your back, allowing him to slip even deeper inside you. Your hips are moving now too, grinding against his fingers as he coaxes your orgasm out of you.

You cum with a harsh cry, spasming so intensely around him that his own release finds him before he’s able to completely fuck you through yours. His mind goes blank as he forces his knot into your tight, untrained hole. Hot, sticky cum floods your pussy and is held there by his swollen cockhead.

Alpha cum is laced with calming pheromones, but they seem to have little to no effect on you. His knot will be in you for at least the next half hour, so Megumi does what he can to calm your buzzing nerves.

“Did so well for me,” he mumbles into the top of your head. “Took my knot so well. It’ll be easier next time. Promise. Promise.”

It takes some time, but your shaking eventually subsides to brief, light tremors. He plays with your hair as you come down from your orgasm. At some point during the aftermath, he swears he feels you inch closer to him for comfort.

When he’s soft enough to pull out without hurting you, he does. Your cunt flutters around him as he slips out, almost as if it misses his thickness. You whimper a bit as he starts to rouse you, fight leaking from you like his spend does your pussy.

It doesn’t look like you can walk so he scoops you up into his arms. You curl instinctually into him, burying your face into his chest.

“Where we going?” you ask, voice muffled by his hulking form.

He smiles as he replies.

“Home.”

#phew she's finished !!#spent the past week reading a/b/o aus #this is the result #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen fic #megumi fushiguro fic #tw a/b/o #tw abo #tw noncon

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longlostzoldyck · 2 years

Text

better together

✦megumi fushiguro x f!reader

✦910 words, mdni, all characters are aged up

✦warnings/tags: smut, dom!megumi, oral+fingering(f receiving), unprotected sex (don't do it, please protect your privates:), daddy kink, excessive use of petnames (angel, little girl, princess, etc)

✦summary: after months of not seeing each other, megumi and you finally get some much needed alone time

✦notes: im sorry for being so inactive, i was quite honestly really burnt out and couldn't get myself to finish any of the fics i started. instead i started something new and i hope to actually finish one of those fics sometime within the next century. hope you enjoy xx thea

m.list

"gumi!," your breathless moans were music to megumi's ears as he stuffed his tongue into your cunt.

his fingers dug into your thighs as gumi got more drunk on your essence. he had missed you and your taste and was desperate to feel you and love you live he had wanted to for months.

long distance is quite frankly a bitch. gumi was mostly gone on missions while you did another semester of university. hence it meant it had been a painful five months since you last saw each other.

every time you reunited it was explosive. all that pent up passion, adoration, and lust bubbled over from one moment to another and you were already half naked on top of each other. gumi's pretty face had always been your favorite seat.

one of megumi's hands trailed up your body to rest on one of your breasts. his slender fingers instantly had your shuddering as he played with your nipples, tugging and tweaking them until they came to a point.

despite the time apart gumi easily played your body like a fine instrument. he knew you were close bu your pretty little gasps and whines.

"pretty little girl...," he whispered drawing your attention back to him as he sloppily licked and sucked your swollen clit. "taste so fucking good."

his voice came out so low it was practically sinful. despite your best efforts your thighs squeezed around his head tighter, drawing a proud smile from your beloved megumi.

"angel, wanna give daddy your mess?"

you moaned out lout in response nodding your head quickly. the approaching orgasm already had you losing your words which was never good enough for dear megumi, ever the perfectionist. his lips abandoned your clit, instead biting down on your soft thighs.

"i know you can use your words, angel," he whispered slowly licking over his bites as you hopelessly tried to grind on his face.

"daddy please... need to give you my mess so bad," you barely even finished your plea before gumi's lips wrapped back around your clit.

"good girl," he moaned against your cunt. it was the last ounce of praise you needed to push you over the edge. "there she is... my good girl."

gumi's skilled little mouth left you seeing stars as your orgasm rocked your body. gumi continued to suck and lick his prize eagerly still holding your body up with his steady grip on your hips.

"daddy...," you giggled squirming against his face, pussy too sensitive after your orgasm.

"you know i can't help but always want more, princess," he replies, then pressing one more soft kiss on your pussy before pulling you close to him.

your lips finally met once again in a tender kiss. you moaned against megumi's lips when you tasted yourself on him, sliding your tongue into his mouth for more. without even realizing it you started rocking your body against his, already needing him again.

"princess," he groaned against your lips, completely drunk off his favorite little.

"daddy...," you said in a teasing tone.

gumi responded your cute little teasing by flipping you over and caging your body under his. a large smile covered your face as megumi pumped his cock in his hands, resting it just aside from your dripping pussy. you were both desperate to feel each other closer. hand in hand, fingers intertwined he finally slid his cock inside you, slowly pushing in every inch.

"fuck baby, feel so good," gumi whispered in your ear before pulling out his cock and slamming all the way back in.

gumi set a relentless pace, unable to hold back any more. your nails scratched down his back as he kept pounding into you at a mind numbing rate. all you could focus on was each other, nothing else in the world mattered. the bed could cave under you two and megumi wouldn't be able to stop needing to feel you both reach your high together.

gumi slid a hand down your body to play with your clit, only to find your little fingers already happily playing. he chuckles into your neck, licking up his bites and hickeys, his pace not faltering for a single moment.

"let daddy help, angel," he says softly as his fingers intertwined with yours as he guides you to play with your clit.

"daddy...," you whined so close to your orgasm you could cry.

"i know angel. i know," he punctuated every word with harsher thrusts drawing breathless little gasps from you. "just a little more angel. daddy's got you."

your pussy fluttered around his cock, as you dug your nails into his back. his eyes finally met yours and with a simple nod you knew he was close too and with a couple of more thrusts, you were coming undone together.

he clutched on to you as he filled your pussy up, jamming his cock even deeper inside of you as you shared in your bliss. his lips found yours in a soft but messy kiss, almost breathing life back into you after such an intense orgasm.

his soft touch and kisses slowly welcomed back to reality as you settled in his arms happily. for the first time in months you fell asleep in each other's arms, big smiles adorning your faces. you always slept well with megumi, but you slept even better with his cock still snug inside you, knowing you would wake up to even more fun.

#megumi smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #megumi fushiguro smut #fushiguro megumi smut #megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro fic #smut

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anitalenia · 11 months

Text

━━ megumi fushiguro series ୨୧ ‧₊˚

⊹˙⋆ 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑖 𝑓𝑢𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑔𝑢𝑟𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠. 𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑚𝑜 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑟. ⋆˙⊹ drabbles ˖⁺.꒷꒦♡꒷꒦˖⁺. full fics

✧˚. VISIT MY OTHER PAGES↷ ˊ- taglist | anime masterlist | masterlist | time stamps | the great library

INCOMING MAIL ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ any fics or series that do not have a link are a work in progress / upcoming. I am just putting the fic descriptions on there ahead of time so I don’t have to do it later.

'*•.¸♡ UPCOMING FICS / WIP ★ singing the blues

'*•.¸♡ UPCOMING SERIES ★ none yet…

KEY — s ( smut ) f ( fluff ) a ( angst ) d ( dark content )

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

none yet…

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tenowls · 7 months

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teacher getou au...... wauh

#jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #kugisaki nobara #fushiguro megumi #teacher getou au #satosugu #fanart #very funny how gojo leaves both yuuji and yuuta on their first mission hssdjshjdd #i know hes technically watching but. these kids do not know anything abt jujutsu at that point and theyre also KIDS. worst teacher HKSDKSD #anyway. been trying to look for fics but haven’t been able to find one i wanna read so i was like ok I’ll do it myself #however i am not a good writer so. DRAWINGS OF RANDOM LITTLE SCENES WILL HAVE TO DO #i want a plot focused fic w a side of shipping…. blease if anyone out there has any recs #as in like. the shipping written in a way that’s relevant to the plot #i want to see the rammies explored. yknowyknow #what happened differently in the aftermath of rikos death to make getou want to be a teacher instead #how is jjk0 different without him as the main antagonist and who does kenjaku take as a host #how does shibuya play out #how are both he and gojo different as characters #having grown up into adulthood together #getou as gojo’s moral compass etc #YKNOWYKNOW #i am aware that to explore all of that would be a monster of a fic which is probably why it does not exist (to my knowledge) but #IF THERES ANY FICS OUT THERE THAT EXPLORE EVEN SOME OF IT. PLEASE SEND THEM MY WAY #EVEN A FUN LITTLE CASEFIC WHERE THEY GO ON A QUICK MISSION OR SMTH #AS LONG AS THERES PLOT #another theoretical fic i would like to read is canonverse post-shibuya but like with a plot that makes sense #jjk my favourite mediocre shounen battle manga. could be so much better. has anyone attempted this #that one post thats like im not a hater im a dismayer. thats me

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sughuru · 4 months

Text

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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missmeinyourbones · 7 months

Note

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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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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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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thoughtssvt · 5 months

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The Orange Peel Theory

[the orange peel theory: the idea that someone cares enough about you to do even the most mundane tasks that you are completely capable of doing yourself - an act of service in the small things]

synopsis : megumi shows yuji that he'd peel an orange for him despite the rind getting stuck under his nails and the citrus smell sticking to his fingers.

(this isn't about oranges- it's actually about dumplings, but you get it....)

word count : 835

"Alright, let's get this going. Nobara really takes advantage when I offer to cook for her parties," Yuji craned his neck from side to side, rolling up his sleeves before stepping in front of the sink. "I mean, come on–" he started, meticulously scrubbing his hands with a heavy sigh as he thought about the tedious prep work he'd have to do to make his famous dumplings.

"The thinly sliced carrots piss you off," Megumi interjected with a small smile on his face, "That reminds me, I have a surprise for you," Megumi quirked his brow towards the refrigerator. "It's not much, I'd probably burn the whole house down if i tried to actually help you with the cooking, but–”

Yuji padded over to the fridge wondering if Megumi just decided to buy premade dumplings to avoid the hassle.

His back creaked as he bent down to come face to face with the lower half of the appliance, mild anticipation sparking with the creaking hinges of the door. A breath caught in his chest, his heart coming to a complete stop. He felt silly with the way he audibly gulped and tears brimmed in his eyes.

It had been a mindless rant. Nothing serious. The two of them laid in bed the previous night, Yuji scoffing at his phone as he saw Nobara’s texts asking if he could bring his homemade dumplings.

"The prep work is so time consuming, I'll have to try and come home early tomorrow," he’d sighed. "The recipe is a blessing and a curse,” he groaned as he buried his face into Megumi’s chest. “I like my dumplings as much as the next person, but everything has to be so finely chopped and it takes so long," Yuji continued.

Before him, now, were containers full of prepped vegetables. Shredded carrots, minced ginger, stringy green onions.

"You did this?" Yuji's voice was small, a hairline away from cracking as he turned to Megumi with his arms full of containers. All labeled and packed to preserve freshness. Scallions floating in water and leafy greens topped with a paper towel to keep them from wilting. Fushiguro knew next to nothing about cooking, let alone prep before Yuji came into his life. The sentiment that he went out of his way to do this all so perfectly had Yuji’s heart swelling in his chest.

"I mean, yeah, you hate doing the prep," Megumi shrugged, gesturing to the veggies, his fingers wrapped in bandages that had tigers and bunnies printed on them, cutesy ones Yuji always had in his pocket in case he came across a child that slipped and scraped their skin. “I know you're always standing for so long and it hurts your knees.”

"You don't know how to cook," Yuji whispered, dumbfounded, earning a snicker from his boyfriend.

"Chopping is different from cooking. Like I said, I probably would've burned down our apartment if I tried to help you cook." He huffed a stronger snort, the corners of his lips tugged into a wide grin.

“It takes you forever to chop anything. How long were you standing here? It was your day off,” his lips wobbled trying so hard not to let his tears slide down his cheeks. He sucked in a hiccup as he thought about how his boyfriend stood in the kitchen for most of the day, wincing every time he nicked his fingers, shifting his weight between his feet as the time weighed heavily on his shoulders.

Megumi stepped towards Yuji, wiping the stubborn tears from his boyfriend's lash line. "It's not a big deal, you don't have to cry." He cooed softly, pulling Yuji in close.

"You saved me a lot of time," Yuji rasped, hands clinging to the pockets of Megumi's sweats.

"I know," Megumi chuckled fondly, planting a soft kiss high on Yuji's cheek.

"And you hurt yourself," he acknowledged, taking Megumi’s hands in his, holding them to his chest.

"It's not too bad. I'll get better. Won't cut myself too much next time," his boyfriend assured, bringing in a fresh sting of tears to the skin around Yuji’s eyes at the implication that he would be more than willing to prep vegetables for him again. Yuji had always done things himself. He never imagined anyone doing such small gestures, tiny things you'd never think of doing for another person. He was perfectly capable of doing it himself, everything Megumi knew about cooking came from him. There was no doubt in mind that his boyfriend knew that these were things he could do– easily– but he did them anyway because he knew how much Yuji hated doing it. It started out as a small rant, nothing had to come from it, but Megumi took it to heart, taking time out of his day to think of ways to give Yuji an easier time.

"And I love you," Yuji rasped with closed lids as he nuzzled his face into the crook of Megumi’s neck.

"I love you too."

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silkscream · 4 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.

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