#itafushi drabble

[shehatescoffee]

hc’s or a drabble for itafushi first kiss????? 😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😽

Oh shit. Fushiguro is dead.

That's the first thought that flashes through Yuuji's mind when he finally drives his fist through the curse's skull and watches it dissapate into a sticky purple goo (ruining his uniform, yet again). Ignoring the triumphant shout from Kugisaki, he rushes to where Fushiguro lies, motionless, against the partially caved in wall of the hospital. His hands flutter frantically across Fushiguro's form, searching for any obvious and/or currently bleeding wounds that might be the reason he hasn't gotten up since he was flung into the wall a few minutes ago. The curse had suddenly grown to three times its size, and Yuuji could only watch helplessly as it snatched a retreating Fushiguro right out of Nue's claws and threw him to the side.

Finding no exterior wounds, he leans closer, pressing his ear against Fushiguro's suspiciously still chest. Yep, just as he suspected: no heartbeat to be found.

Shit.

Eyes wide, he starts to panic. No way Fushiguro is actually dead, right?

"Kugisaki! Get the hell over here!" He yells, digging his fingers into Fushiguro's wrist, then his neck when he feels no pulse. He barely notices as Kugisaki casually sidles up next to him, tossing her hammer in the air and catching it again with a grin.

"That was insane! Gojo-Sensei is gonna be so pissed he missed it. Did you see how I..." She trails off as she takes in the situation at hand, eyes darting between Yuuji's shellshocked expression and their limp classmate strewn across the floor. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh shit! Can you call Gojo-Sensei? Or actually, Ieiri-San?"

Ignoring him, Kugisaki kneels on Fushiguro's other side. "He doesn't have a pulse?" She questions, suddenly sounding deadly serious. "Okay, we need to do CPR. Gojo-Sensei should be here soon to pick us up and he can teleport us to the school, but we can't just leave Fushiguro like this."

Yuuji's jaw drops. "Wha—CPR!? I don't know CPR!"

Glaring, Kugisaki starts to gently shift Fushiguro so there's space around him, positioning them all so Yuuji is kneeling beside his head and Kugisaki is beside his chest. "You are so useless! Jeez, just do the rescue breaths! I'll do compressions."

Rescue breaths? Yuuji thinks dumbly. Like from Jurassic Park? He tries to think back to the scene from the movie, and vaguely recalls one character pinching the other's nose and then blowing air into their mouth to help them start breathing again.

Mouth to mouth. Him, breathing into Fushiguro's mouth. Yuuji's mouth, where his lips are, pressed against Fushiguro's mouth, where his lips are.

He looks at Fushiguro's slack face, jaw hanging slightly open and eyes shut peacefully, as if he were sleeping. His gaze moves across Fushiguro's features; his messy bangs hiding the cut on his forehead, his eyelashes coated with dust (did he always have such long eyelashes?), his potentially broken nose...

His lips, bitten red and raw (easily explained, since Yuuji happened to notice that Fushiguro bites his lips a lot when he's concentrating on summoning his shikigami), covered in a thin sheen of drying spit.

Kugisaki wants Yuuji to...give him rescue breaths? Like, right now? Would that be like kissing?

Yuuji hasn't kissed anyone before.

Oblivious to Yuuji's internal turmoil, Kugisaki readies herself on slightly spread knees, leaning over Fushiguro and lining the palm of her hand up with his sternum, her other hand folding over the top of the first. "Okay, I'll do thirty compressions, then you give two breaths. Okay? Make sure you pinch his nose, and we have to watch to make sure his chest rises or there could be something blocking his airway."

Still processing, Yuuji just nods. Kugisaki seems satisfied as her small frame hovers over Fushiguro's and she starts pressing violently and rhythmically down on his chest, singing some western song under her breath that Yuuji can't make out. He doesn't really think it's the time for singing, but who's he to question her process? He's just glad she knows what the hell to do in this situation.

Snapping back to the moment, he realizes he has like thirty seconds before he needs to do his part.

Before he needs to...give mouth to mouth. To Fushiguro. Fushiguro, with his stupidly red lips (why are they so glossy?) and his gorgeous eyes that Yuuji already misses dearly.

This wouldn't count as a kiss, right? He doesn't want his first kiss to be with an unconcious Fushiguro. Unconcious being the key word.

Because, in the small amount of time while Kugisaki repeatedly presses her entire bodyweight into Fushiguro's chest, it occurs to him that he doesn't think he's all that opposed to his first kiss being Fushiguro, of all people.

Honestly, maybe it would be good if his first kiss was his best friend. Fushiguro probably wouldn't make fun of him for it. No, he'd say something like "Why are you so worried about it? It's just a kiss" and then he'd put his delicate, strong hand on Yuuji's jaw and pull him in and—

Okay, he's getting distracted. Kugisaki is looking at him pointedly, as if to signal that it's almost his turn. Annoyingly, his palms start sweating, feeling clammy as they go to position themselves on Fushiguro's face, one under his chin to tilt his head back and the other pinching his nose (yep, 100% broken).

Has Fushiguro had his first kiss yet? Surely not. Who would he have kissed? He never mentioned anyone to Yuuji. Sure, they've only known each other a few months, but Yuuji likes to think they've bonded quite a lot. Dying in front of someone and then coming back to life tends to bring people together. Maybe. Well, that's what Gojo told him, anyway.

Kugisaki is counting down her final compressions, five, four, three...

Sucking in a breath, Yuuji leans over Fushiguro. His body casts a shadow across the other boy's face, which is ironic, in some way or another.

Then, with an exhausted sigh, Kugisaki leans back and gestures for him to act.

He nearly freezes entirely, lips an inch away from Fushiguro's, before his panic about Fushiguro literally being dead reignites and he's messily smashing his mouth down.

If this does count as a kiss, it's nothing like the movies.

Nothing lights on fire within him, there are no butterflies, his foot doesn't pop up behind him. Perhaps the sheer panic is suppressing all those things, he isn't sure, but it's not much of a kiss either way.

Fushiguro's lips aren't yet stiff, blood still colors them, but they aren't, like, kissing him back or anything.

No, this definitely isn't a kiss. If it was, Fushiguro would be awake (alive), and he would be cradling Yuuji's jaw or touching his hair or something. And Kugisaki would not be here, not for their first kiss.

Fuck, he thinks he wants to kiss Fushiguro. Like, for real.

He finishes pushing two breaths into Fushiguro's mouth and jolts back, blinking rapidly. Kugisaki immediately starts compressions again, but she shoots him an encouraging smile (weird, for her). "His chest rose, good job! Now, we just repeat that until Gojo gets here."

Right. Repeat it. Yuuji can do that.

Yuuji's about to go in for his third round of breaths when Gojo finally shows up, much to the students' relief. Seeming no where near concerned enough considering Fushiguro is literally dead, Gojo grabs the trio and instantly teleports them back to Jujutsu High, right into Ieiri's morgue/infirmary (really, quite a morbid location when Yuuji thinks about it).

After informing her of the situation, he and Kugisaki watch as a (only slightly) startled Ieiri immediately begins to work on Fushiguro, ushering them all out the door with a tired scolding, explaining that she needs room to work.

The three of them sit in the hall, Yuuji and Kugisaki criss cross on the floor leaning against each other's backs, and Gojo on a bench that seems to serve little purpose considering the small population on campus. He really seems quite chill about Fushiguro being dead. He's whistling, for Tengen's sake.

Hours or maybe minutes pass as Yuuji internally crumbles over the entire situation. Was it his fault? Could he have exorcised the curse before it got to Fushiguro? Was that a kiss? Was he punching hard enough? Could they have worked better as a team? Seriously, did that count as a kiss? Was the curse mis-graded? If it counts, what does that mean? Would Fushiguro even want to kiss him for real? What if Fushiguro's never kissed anyone before either? What if Fushiguro's actually dead, and Yuuji's rescue breaths are the only kiss he'll ever get?

Before he can devolve any further into a puddle of anxiety, the door to the infirmary creaks open. Both him and Kugisaki jump to their feet, while Gojo just chuckles. Sighing, Ieiri gestures for them to enter.

"He's fine," she starts as they rush past her. "He'll need some rest but you guys actually did a pretty good job with the CPR. His heart definitely stopped at some point, but it was started again by the time you got here. Impressive work."

Yuuji ignores her as he sprints to the gurney holding Fushiguro's noticeably less still body.

"Fushiguro! Are you okay?" He blurts out, only just stopping short of climbing into bed beside the other boy so he could hear his heart beating and lungs expanding himself.

Wincing, Fushiguro nods. "I'm fine, now. Ieiri-San told me you brought me back to life. Thanks for that."

"I was there too, actually I did most of the work..." Kugisaki grumbles, but neither of them acknowledge her for the moment. Instead, they just stare at each other.

Wow, it's crazy how much he missed Fushiguro's eyes over the past however many minutes since the fight ended.

Finally, Fushiguro breaks eye contact to look at Kugisaki, who's got a death grip on one of his hands. "Yes, thank you for not letting me die, Kugisaki."

Scoffing, she releases Fushiguro's hand and turns away. "Whatever, it was nothing. It would be nice if you could stop almost dying all the time, though."

"I'll try," Fushiguro snidely calls out as she saunters back into the hallway, please by the sufficient evidence of Fushiguro no longer being dead. As she goes, Fushiguro turns back to Yuuji, smiling softly. "Seriously, thank you."

Yuuji can feel his face heat at the sincerity in the words, and once he notices it, it only burns more. "Uh, yeah. I mean, no problem. It would be inconvenient—not inconvenient, that sounds cold. I just, uh. It would be bad. If you died. That would be bad. Very much not cool, actually."

Chuckling (barely, since Kugisaki probably broke some ribs), Fushiguro tilts his head. He tugs Yuuji closer by his elbow. "Very much not cool, huh?"

"Right," Yuuji gulps. "Not cool at all."

Again, he pulls Yuuji even closer, until Yuuji's practically leaning his entire torso over the bed. "You know what's really not cool?"

"What?"

Wow, their faces are really close together all of the sudden. When did that happen? There's barely an inch of space, just like before the rescue breaths.

"I wasn't even awake for our first kiss," Fushiguro drawls, gaze shifting between Yuuji's eyes and his lips. "You stole it."

Dumbfounded, Yuuji can only gape. "You—I—What?"

Fushiguro doesn't answer. At least, not verbally. He just closes the meager gap between them, and then they're kissing.

This is most definitely a kiss. For sure. Holy shit, is it a kiss.

It's nothing more than the pressing of lips against each other, extremely chaste, all things considered, but it's leagues better than the rescue breaths.

For one thing, Fushiguro is awake (and alive). For another, he's not only kissing Yuuji back, he was the one to initiate.

Yuuji only realized he wanted to kiss Fushiguro maybe an hour ago, but he's already 100% sure he wants to do it again. He feels it all, the fire lighting, the butterflies swirling, the foot popping.

They stay like that, softly moving their lips in tandem, for a few more seconds before Fushiguro pulls back (because no way in hell was Yuuji going to stop on his own).

"There, much better," Fushiguro whispers, eyes still shut.

Yuuji can't help the giant smile that grows on his face. "Much better."

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I fell in love with an emo… BOY???

Tags: itafushi, megumi x itadori, bl, aged up characters, modern!au, side of SatoSugu, crack, NO SMUT, unserious joke about suicide, maybe some tension and suggestion though, megumi wants that cookie so damn bad, hey what’s junpei doing here???

Synopsis: There should only be ONE emo boy in Itadori’s heart, and it damn well wasn’t going to be the one who died in season one.

An: If you don’t ship itafushi, don’t read this LOL. This was so fun to write honestly. I didn’t take it too seriously. You shouldn’t either. The idea just popped up, and I wanted to write it as a palette cleanser from all the dark shit I’ve been conjuring up.

Megumi was going to need a dentist.

Yep, he was surely going to need to take Gojo’s precious black card and pay for all new veneers because his teeth were practically going to be dust by the time this visit was over.

It shouldn’t bother him this badly. His best friend and long-term crush was only visiting with his childhood best friend.

Itadori was a fucking saint. A ray of sunshine and pretty pink flowers on a rainy day. He exuded kindness and thoughtfulness in everything he did. He was unapologetically himself, even if he was a total dork. He was charming as all hell. It was no wonder how he was so popular.

Megumi wasn’t the only one that was blessed enough to feel his warmth, and that thought was sickening enough.

Usually, the black-haired male didn’t necessarily care about all the attention Itadori received. He didn’t bat an eye when Todo would unabashedly sling his arm across Itadori’s shoulders. He couldn’t care less when Nobara would sit on Itadori’s knees and apply skin care to his face, and he definitely never cared whenever Hana would run up to Itadori and give him one of the biggest hugs ever.

So, why was it bothering him so bad that Junpei was simply sitting next to Itadori… laughing at his god awful jokes? They were clearly close… Their knees casually leaned up against each others as they weren’t afraid of touching.

Maybe it was because Junpei laughed really hard at Itadori’s shitty jokes? Everyone loved Itadori, but it wasn’t because of his sense of humor. That was for certain.

Maybe he hated Junpei because he just sprung up out of thin air? Gojo had just shown up with Junpei with basically no forewarning. He knew how much Megumi hated when he did that.

Maybe it was because they had history together? History that didn’t involve Megumi. Maybe he felt some weird claim and ownership over Itadori because he was the first one out of the group of students to meet him. They had known each other the longest… even if it was only by a couple of days.

Or maybe it was because Junpei had that fuck ass haircut. The 2009 emo boy look was so stupid, and it didn’t help that he was wearing a My Chemical Romance t-shirt… It was an exact carbon copy of the one in Megumi’s closet.

“What about you, Megs?” Yuji voice snapped Megumi out of his train of thought. He looked up at the two pairs of eyes that were waiting for his response. Shit. He had been so focused on trying to deduce the status of their relationship that he hadn’t been listening for the past ten minutes.

“Hm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” He responded casual enough. It wasn’t unlike him to mentally check out of conversations… especially whenever Itadori brought up that godforsaken human earthworm movie.

“I was just trying to see if you wanted to go see a movie with Junpei and I?” Itadori asked without even skipping a beat.

Junpei and I?

Junpei and I!?

They were like some fucking package deal or something. No, he’d rather drop dead than go hangout with them. He couldn’t stand to see them together for any longer.

“I don’t have anything else better to do.” Megumi sighed in agreement. He couldn’t stand to see them together, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of them going on a date alone! Sorry Junpei, Megs was definitely going to tag along and be a complete cockblock for him.

“Really? Hell yeah!” Itadori grinned as he quickly sat up from the couch, exuding excited puppy energy. Megumi never wanted to go to the movies with him, so this was a treat. His two best friends going with him to see a movie! What could be better?

“Kugisaki!! Come with us!” Itadori shouted towards the short brunette, who was currently sitting at the table with Hana, painting her nails.

“I’d rather kill myself. Thanks!” Kugisaki called back to him, causing for him to pout in response. That’s fine. It was good enough that Megumi and Junpei were tagging along.

Yuji knew how much they had in common with each orher. He at least hoped they’d finally talk on the way to the movie theatre.

Megumi leaned his head back against the couch, and he started to dial Ijichi’s number for a ride. Despite being legal adults, none of them had their license yet. Why get a license when Gojo’s money and staff supported all of them?

It was a little while later when Ijichi pulled the car up. Megumi’s stomach flipped as he thought about the seating arrangement for the car. It was something he hadn’t considered yet.

The three of them could pile into the backseat, except that would be three tall men piled into the backseat. That would be far too uncomfortable. Itadori was the tallest. He could sit up front, but… that would leave Megumi and Junpei in the back seat.. no thanks.

They could have Junpei sit up front. Then, Megumi could sit in the back with Itadori and…

Oh look, Itadori was already opening the backdoor for Junpei and ushering him in before sliding in beside him… how nice.

Megumi was left brooding in the front seat, internally cursing himself for coming along. Being a cockblock required getting and keeping Itadori’s attention, but he had no fucking idea how to do that.

Their relationship had always been Itadori reaching out to Megumi, and the brunette acting indifferent towards him. Megumi envied him for being able to reach out to others so confidently.

“Gojo said he’d be home later tonight, Fushiguro.” Ijichi informed meekly, sensing the other’s frustration. He was just trying to make small talk, but Megumi really wasn’t in the mood today. He actually was never in the mood, but today was worse.

“I already told you to call me Megumi. You’ve known me since I was a kid.” He rolled his eyes at Ijichi, never understanding why the man insisted on using his last name.

“Right… right.” Ijichi fumbled over his words as he continued to drive. Megumi was grateful yet also hated the silence between them. Now, he could hear Yuji yapping to Junpei about the latest horror movie release.

They hadn’t stopped fucking talking since Junpei showed up. It was unnerving. Unnatural. No one had that much to say, did they?

“God, I wish you would’ve been there, Junpei. Megs hated that movie. You would’ve enjoyed it though.” Itadori said with a small laugh.

It was like a knife to Megumi’s gut. All this time they spent together… had Yuji been comparing him to Junpei? Had he secretly wished the Junpei was there instead of Megumi?

Aaaannd his teeth were grinding together again. He propped his head up with his hand, glaring out the car window. He wasn’t a cockblock at all. Fuck, he was a third wheel.

He debated on faking some sort of illness to stay behind in the car, but he knew Ijichi would’ve taken any opportunity to take him to see Shoko. Shoko would’ve found out quickly that nothing was wrong with him, and she would’ve forced him to explain why he faked being sick.

He trailed behind the two as they walked into the movie theatre. They were constantly bumping their arms together as they walked in perfect sync.

Junpei was a little smaller than Megumi, so he came up just to Itadori’s shoulder. Did Itadori prefer shorter men? He liked tall girls… Did that translate to men as well?

He knew Itadori didn’t care about gender. He had revealed such over a game of truth or dare. Kugisaki had asked if Itadori would ever date a guy. Megumi’s ears subtly perked up with the pink-haired male said he really didn’t care what gender someone was. He only looked for personality. With a bit more digging, Kugisaki had taken the honor of labeling Itadori as pansexual, and the young man agreed with such.

Megumi was glad that no one had pressed about his sexuality. It’s not that he was ashamed of being gay. Hell, shame wasn’t a thing when you had Gojo as a parent. He just didn’t want there to be that weird awkward tension that always happens between two friends when they find out each of them like the same sex.

It happened in middle school once. He was finally coming to terms with his sexual identity with the help of Geto. He came out of the closet to his closest (and only) friend in middle school, and there was a pregnant pause when his friend replied, “Wait really? I also like guys.”

He honestly preferred coming out to straight men. Sure, they’d make the common mistake of saying, “Well, as long as you don’t hit on me. We’re cool, dude.” but at least there was no complicated feelings when Megumi would always reply with them not being his type.

Lost in thought, he had completely been acting on autopilot this entire time. He didn’t even realize that they were already in the movie theatre until he sat next to Itadori. Junpei sat on the other side.

Itadori held a large bowl of popcorn on his lap. It was more than enough for the three of them to share, especially because Megumi despised popcorn. There was too many times when Gojo would try to serve popcorn as a meal to him as a young kid.

Granted, Gojo was a teen dad who ran off of sugar and desserts, so he really didn’t know any better either. Geto would always come by and save the day with his cooking.

A small tap on his thigh had Megumi tensing. He slightly flinched before snapping his gaze at Itadori.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispered with a soft laugh. Even though it was dark, Megumi could still see how bright his smile was. It made his heart skip a beat. Christ, he was whipped. “Here. I know you don’t like popcorn.”

Itadori gently nudged Megumi’s thigh once again with a bag of American salty chips. It was one of his favorite kinds. Did Itadori by chance know that was his favorite..? If he did, was that something that friends did for each other?

It’s better not to read too deeply into it. He slowly took the chips from his friend’s hand. “Thanks.” He muttered as he just stared at the chip bag. Something about the small token kindness made his heart swell. Itadori didn’t get Junpei his own special snack.

“Don’t mention it.” His friend replied, immediately shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Megumi took a deep breath, and he tried to relax in his seat. Finally, rational thought was beginning to come back to him.

Junpei was only visiting for today and tomorrow. If there was some weird tension between him and Itadori, it’s probably just lingering feelings of their past. Megumi really had no right to be jealous. It’s not like he had ever expressed his feelings to him. He had no claim on Itadori.

Junpei would be leaving soon and flying back off to wherever the hell he lived now. This would be a funny memory in the future.

All was well… until Megumi caught a glimpse of the two men whispering to each other and laughing. Their hands kept bumping together in the popcorn bucket. Itadori was leaned against Junpei so they could hear each other better.

Fuck this. This was torture to witness. Junpei could get fucked for all Megumi cared. Who needs to visit their childhood best friend for a full two days, and who cared if Megumi had no claim over Itadori!? He was still his best friend. That had to count for something.

The movie Itadori had chosen, Human Tarantula, was nothing like Human Earthworm. It took a horror twist upon the movie, and there was little to no romance.

If Megumi wanted his attention, he was going to have to fight for it.

Even though the jump scares were pretty predictable, the next one that happened, Megumi sharply inhaled, and his hand latched onto Itadori’s thigh, feigning terror from the movie.

The pink-haired male straightened, and he looked away from Junpei for once as he looked over at Megumi. He never usually got scared during these films. Did… did Megumi have a secret fear of spiders?

Itadori leaned into Megumi, his mouth next to his friend’s ear as he softly whispered a, “You alright?” to him.

The brunette was thankful it was too dark in the movie theatre for Itadori to see how much that affected him. His cheeks flushed a soft red, and he carefully removed his hand from his friend’s thigh. “I’m fine..” He responded, not risking a glance in Itadori’s direction.

Itadori softly laughed. It was totally like Megumi to act like he wasn’t scared. The pink-haired male just didn’t expect him to be so afraid of spiders. It was cute though. He made a mental note of it. He would be the designated person to take care of spiders if they ever crawled their way into the house.

It wasn’t five minutes later until Itadori and Junpei were all huddled up together once again. They weren’t even talking. They were just leaned against each other, enjoying the movie together… like a couple.

It made Megumi’s stomach turn. He had to act scared to get Itadori’s attention even for just a minute. Meanwhile the emo with the fucked ass haircut can manage to keep his attention the entire day.

Junpei was getting to experience Itadori whispering into his ear constantly throughout the entire movie — something that Megumi only got to experience once, and it was something he craved again.

He was about to just excuse himself to the bathroom to go hide in self-deprecation. He was tired of third wheeling, and he was certainly fucking tired of hearing Junpei giggle at Itadori’s comments.

A scene played on the giant movie screen of a whole nest of baby spiders crawling around. It was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl with disgust. The sound alone made Megumi’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He wasn’t actually afraid of spiders, but he also didn’t fuck with them either.

A hand rested on his knee, and Megumi tensed. Itadori casually had his palm on the brunette’s knee. He focused on his breathing — trying to not appear as if he was about to die over such a simple touch.

Itadori was clearly just trying to soothe him. It’s not like this is a romantic gesture. No, this is just what friends did for each other, right..?

His thumb gently stroked the outer part of his knee, and Megumi gripped onto the arm rest of the chair like he was fighting for his life. His heart was racing in his chest. Butterflies swarmed his stomach. Itadori and him were close, but they had never even shared a hug before. They weren’t the type of friends to casually share touches… like him and Junpei were.

Of course, on the outside, Megumi looked terrified. Itadori genuinely pitied his friend. He would’ve chosen a different movie if he knew about Megumi’s aversion to spiders.

His hand continued to caress his friend’s knee, thinking this would be a soothing motion to ease his terror, but Megumi was nearly shaking.

Itadori leaned over against him once more. “We can go if you’re not having a good time.” His breath brushed against the shell of his ear, causing Megumi to shudder.

“I’m fine.” He managed to get out in a low, steady tone.

Itadori gave his knee one good squeeze before continuing to rub circles around his knee. Megumi swallowed harshly as he tried to keep his breath slow and steady.

The rest of the movie went by painfully fast. Megumi couldn’t focus with Itadori’s hand on his knee, and he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. His hand itched to just reach down and hold it, but he was too nervous. He kept trying to remind himself that Itadori was likely only doing this so he could be a good friend.

The loss of contact had Mugumi’s heart sinking down into his stomach. Itadori was right back to being all up Junpei’s ass. Were they in some weird ass throuple situation? Is that what people thought about them as they saw them in passing? Two emos sharing a golden retriever?

Returning home, Gojo was sitting at the dining room table, playing on his Nintendo Switch before he looked up at the three with starry eyes. Megumi had forgotten Ijichi mentioned Gojo would be home this afternoon.

During the school semesters, Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara would all go live on the college campus they all went to. However, it was summer time, so they all stayed at Megumi’s since Nobara and Itadori really didn’t have any family.

Megumi’s house was expansive thanks to Gojo’s handsome check from being the clan head. Geto’s income also helped a bit, but he mainly ran a nonprofit for disadvantaged children.

Hell, their home was like a nonprofit for disadvantaged children. It felt like the collected orphans like pokemon cards. First Megumi when he was seven, now several college students found refuge in Gojo’s house.

Hell, Junpei was probably an orphan too. They were really trying to catch ‘em all.

“Gumiii~!” Gojo called out to his child by that god awful nickname that Megumi hated. He was eternally grateful that Itadori had landed on calling him ‘Megs’ instead. “How was the movie?” He asked.

Junpei and Itadori had already settled right back on the couch right next to each other, going back and forth about the voice actors for the movie they just watched.

“Outside.” Megumi grumbled as he grabbed his adoptive dad by the collar of his shirt and comedically dragged him backwards until they were in the backyard.

“Why the fuck did you bring him here, and when the fuck is he leaving exactly?” Megumi asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Grouchy.” Gojo laughed, scratching the back of his neck once his son released him. “I guess the movie wasn’t that good, was it?” He asked, clearly just trying to egg the brunette on.

“Gojo.” Megumi’s tone was low and threatening. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Small crescent shapes were likely indented into his skin from how tight his grip was.

“Okay, okay- No need for the government name, Gumi.” Gojo responded with his hands up in a dramatic surrendering expression. “Itadori had mentioned having only one close childhood best friend one time, and I decided that a reunion was very much needed.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. He had really filled out his frame since he was a teenager. He still wasn’t as tall as Gojo, lanky bastard, but he wasn’t as defenseless as he use to be. And he honestly debated fighting his adoptive dad.

“So, anyone can just mention to you about a previous friend, and you’ll go dig them up and fly them out?” He asked in a careful tone. His voice was low and filled with misplaced anger.

Gojo pretended to contemplate Megumi’s question before finally giving a response. “If they give me pretty puppy dog eyes, yes.”

“He begged..?” Megumi’s anger was swiftly forgotten, replaced with shell-shock. Itadori had been so desperate to reconnect with Junpei that he begged Gojo to find him and fly him out..? His stomach coiled from the news, and his face paled.

Gojo chose his next words very carefully. “He said he wondered how Junpei had been getting along, and he missed their long talks about movies.”

It was enough to send Megumi straight to his room, locking the door behind him. He knew he had just been mindlessly jealous thus far today, but this level of self pity was unprecedented.

His long-term crush wasn’t fulfilled enough in his friendship with him. He had to go search out his old childhood best friend likely to rekindle old nostalgic feelings. They got along great. There hadn’t been a moment of silence in the house since Junpei had arrived.

Fuck. The memory of Gojo showing up with Junpei flooded Megumi’s mind. Gojo’s stupid ass had shoved Junpei into a box to make a grand reveal. Megumi was too surprised to notice how Itadori’s eyes gleamed and how he ran straight up to Junpei to envelop his body into a tight hug.

Even now, Gojo was sitting downstairs with Junpei and Itadori as they played a board game. It was sickening to think about.

Maybe… maybe he should just move on from Itadori. There was clearly nothing between them on Itadori’s side. He should take on a few more classes during the fall semester and bury himself in his studies to forget about his crush.

A soft knock at his door had him wiping his face, making sure no residue tears were left behind. “What?” He called out in an unamused tone.

“Don’t what me.” Geto’s calm voice filled the room, and Megumi immediately moved to unlock the door for his other adoptive dad.

Megumi knew better than to pick a fight with Geto as he was the lawmaker in the house, and Gojo would back him all the way to the moon over anything.

“Sorry…” He muttered as he sat back down on his bed, avoiding eye contact with the other male.

“Why are you up here moping? Nanako and Mimiko are even downstairs socializing, and you know how hard it is to get those girls to do anything besides stare at their phones and laugh at each other.” Geto said as he took a seat down on the bed next to Megumi.

Megumi shrugged his shoulders. There was no way he was about to vent out his frustrations right now. He already felt too vulnerable and raw. He didn’t need anyone else knowing what was going on.

Too bad for him, Geto was perceptive as hell. He was always the first to notice when Megumi would go on downward spirals like this… probably because he went through the same thing.

Geto’s episodes were far and few between nowadays, but he still had his days. Gojo had luckily gotten better at picking up on Geto’s warning signs, and he’d always do whatever was necessary to bring his husband back to life.

“You know… I remember I use to hate this girl back in college. She was brash, strong, and had long dark hair that rivaled my own.” Geto said as he looked at his son. He knew without even having to ask. Megumi was clearly stricken with jealousy and grief.

“So?” The brunette asked, giving Geto a raised eyebrow.

“So, Satoru was too touchy with her. He always use to tease her until she went red in the face, and they way he said her name had me plotting her demise. Uttaahimmee~” Geto mocked Gojo’s teasing tone of voice, earning a faint smile out of Megumi.

“We weren’t dating at the time, and I’d say we barely even had a situationship going. I felt like I had no right to be so jealous. I usually tried to play along, until I found myself retracting from what Satoru and I had been building.” He went on, recounting their teenage years fondly.

“I almost let him go, but I decided to give a last ditch effort. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had retracted completely instead of just telling him how I felt? He admitted that he was only acting that way so I’d feel jealous. He thought it’d make me want him more. What an idiot.” He laughed, and Megumi joined in with his own soft laughs.

“Thanks. I know what you’re trying to do..” Megumi said with a soft smile planted on his face. “But I don’t think Itadori is doing this to get a rise out of me.”

“Certainly not. That boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t perhaps like seeing that jealous side of you.” Geto said, raising his eyebrows with suggestion that had Megumi shoving him out of his room with embarrassment. His dads were too cool joking about that stuff with him, even if he was grown now.

After a few moments of reflection, he set forth a plan in his mind before collecting himself mentally. He was going to allow himself to feel jealous without any judgment.

He walked downstairs, and he lingered around the back of the couch as he watched his sisters, Itadori, Junpei, and Gojo all playing some sort of board game.

Itadori and Junpei were nearly on fucking top of each other. It was disgusting. He let out a disgruntled noise of dissatisfaction as he climbed over the couch to sit on Itadori’s other side.

“Hey Megs. I was going to go check on you after this round.” He said as he freed himself away from Junpei.

“It’s fine.” He said as he placed a firm hand over Itadori’s knee. Butterflies once again swarmed his stomach. He really couldn’t touch the other without getting all flustered. He tried to control his breathing, and he forced his voice to be steady. “What are you playing?” He asked.

Itadori noticed the sudden hand on his knee, but he didn’t dare to comment on it. “We’re playing Life.”

“Speaking of which, it’s your turn, Yuji.” Junpei spoke up, interrupting their small interaction.

Megumi glared at Junpei unapologetically until every person in that room felt uncomfortable.

“Actually, I completely forgot. I have a livestream to go watch!” Mimiko said as she hurried out of the living room.

“Me too-“ Nanako added as she chased after her twin sister up the stairs.

“I think I hear Suguru calling for me.” Gojo said with a knowing grin as he leisurely left the living room as well.

“Well…” Junpei muttered lowly as he looked around. “Maybe we can watch another movie, Yuji..?”

Megumi didn’t miss how Junpei clearly didn’t intend on inviting him to their plans. His teeth ground together, but he stayed silent, waiting to see what Itadori’s response would be.

“I… actually need to shower. It’s getting late, and Todo expects me to be in the gym every morning at 5 o’clock sharp.” Itadori said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Good boy. Megumi thought to himself.

“I’ll bring you down some blankets and pillows. Hana’s currently taking up the guest room, but you and I can camp-“ A disapproving growl from Megumi had Itadori quickly rethinking what he was saying. He felt the brunette’s hand tighten around his knee. “You and I can… catch up tomorrow.” He quickly adjusted his words.

“Yeah, sure.. That’s fine.” Junpei nodded as he got comfortable on the couch. Yuji stood up, and Megumi followed along right behind him. It took work to keep the smug expression off his face. He finally fucking won. He was officially a cockblock.

His smug victory was cut short when he was swiftly jerked into the bathroom, and his back was pressed against a wall. The door shut, and the lock clicked into place. Itadori’s hands trapped him in, and he looked up at his tall friend with wide eyes.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you?” Itadori spoke in a voice that was not at all intimidating, but it was more concerning than anything.

“I don’t know what you’re-“ A hand placed firmly under his jaw had Megumi’s heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He secretly hoped Itadori couldn’t hear it.

This was straight out of his fantasies. His friend keeping him still against a wall, forcing his gaze up into his big brown eyes. He had the face of an angel, but his actions spoke to a hidden darkness underneath.

“Don’t lie to me, Megs.” Itadori spoke with a frown. It looked like disappointment on his face, making Megumi feel slightly remorseful for the bold display of jealousy. Though, he wouldn’t have had to do that if Yuji and Junpei weren’t so annoyingly close.

“You’ve been up Junpei’s ass since he got here. It’s like you forgot you have other friends around.” Megumi finally fessed up as he tried to jerk his jaw away from Itadori’s grasp. He only tightened more around his jaw.

“That’s what your mood has been about?” Itadori asked with a laugh. A laugh. Megumi could feel his anger boiling over as if he wanted to explode right then, feeling so invalidated by the guy he had longed for-

His train of thought completely stopped as he felt a pair of lips upon his own. No way was this happening right now. He literally had to look down and check. Yep, Itadori was kissing him right now.

After the smallest moment of hesitancy, Megumi instantly melted into the kiss, looping his arms around Yuji’s neck and swallowing down each and every small noise he made.

The kiss was short, but it was lust-filled on both sides. Itadori was gently panting with a dumb grin on his face as he eyed his best friend. Megumi face had a subtle blush to it, and he was avoiding his gaze.

“Does that make you feel better? I didn’t take you for such a brat, Fushiguro.” Yuji gently teased, squeezing onto Megumi harder as he tried to get out of his grasp.

“What did you just call me?” Megumi asked as he was trying to fight Yuji’s hulking figure. The pink-haired male had supernatural strength that rendered Megumi completely useless against him.

“I’ll let you mark me up if you stop fighting me and forget that I called you a brat.” Yuji bribed with a laugh, and Megumi went completely still in his arms.

“Wherever I want.” He negotiated with a narrow stare.

“Wherever you want and however many it takes for you not to be such a jealous recluse.” Yuji offered.

“Deal.”

*** *** ***

Todo was a loss for words when Yuji walked into the gym the next morning littered in bruises along his neck and collarbones.

Also, no one dared to mention to Megumi that Junpei was actually straight… There was never a battle of the emo boys in Yuji’s heart after all.

[sukunas-wife]

sukuna who's over heels with y/n, but y/n is stupidly in love with yuuji who is falling in love with megumi?!

GOOD GOD THIS IS THE REAL REASON HE HATES YUJI AND HAD TO TAKE MEGUMI HOSTAGE

I tried, 🤍 I don’t where my brain went but it was everywhere 🙂‍↕️

You loved Yuji, and it hurt him, he was infuriated

All those times you spent together, had you only ever saw him as friend and nothing more? Even when he bullied and teased you, he made sure to never dig into you as crudely as he would others.

He proved in many ways he was superior to counter part, he remembers your giggles and bashful smiles when he’d prove himself superior and you’d compliment him.

We’re your words lies??? He scoffed, and turned to you beside him, you had just confessed to him you had a crush on Yuji, and it as much as he tried to hide it, the sour taste on his mouth and the bitter expression on his face told you everything you needed to know. He was upset with you, you expected him to be, because it was his brother, it would ruin you’re entire friendship. But that wasn’t the true reason he had become so upset.

He wanted to snap you that Yuji wasn’t even straight, that he knew his brother was interested in that Fushiguro brat. He wanted to make you understand why you had chosen incorrectly, why you’re little idea was foolish. So he tried to explain in a way without outing his closeted brother.

Of course you became upset thinking he just didn’t want you and Yuji together. You yelled at him and watched how he clenched his jaw, his eye twitched before he sighed and physically deflated. He leaned forward, testing his forearms on his thighs and dropped his head. You almost felt bad seeing how he reacted, but he stood up, not giving you time to put your hand on his shoulder, he didn’t face you, he didn’t even glance in your direction when he told you, “Y/n, I’m not going to stop you from doing whatever the hell you want. But as Yuji’s brother, I know damn well this isn’t going to work the way you think it is. If you’re so fucking set on going and pouring your heart out to him, you do that. I’ll be right here when you realize it’s not what you thought it was.”

He left you on his bed in his room and he went out to smoke on the back patio. There he found Choso, their step brother. Sukuna wasn’t as close to Choso as Yuji was, but in that day the silence between the two as they sat there in the others presence was enough to sway their opinion on the other, “Maybe he’s not as big of an ass.” “Maybe that sleep deprived brat ain’t to bad.”

—- —- —- —- —- •*•*•*•*•*• —- —- —- —- —-

THEN YUJI REJECTED YOU in his oh so bashful manner saying he liked Megumi..

It was later that week after mulling over your thoughts, over Sukuna’s words, what did he mean when he said he’d still be there. Of course you didn’t put much thought into the finer details as you made your way to Itadori’s house hold. You found Yuji sitting on the front porch basking in the sun with a smile on his face. It was the fall season and you know how much he loved going on walks and stepping on the “Crunchy” leaves. He opened his eyes hearing your steps, if anything he knew everyone by their walk. He smiled waving a hand, “Hey! Didn’t think I’d see you this week, you haven’t called or messaged so I thought you were busy with your college classes.” You smiled at him shrugging “It’s just been a busy week I guess, a lot to think about but it feel like I can’t even think straight about what I need to focus on.”

He hummed “Yeah, me too…” you both fell into after he offered you the spot next to him. Sitting out under the afternoon sun, the soft breeze and sounds of leaves scraping over the street and side walk. Your face felt warm as you found the courage to finally say what had been on your chest. “Yuji, I need to tell you something.” He was staring off with a smile at the sky, he turned to you with that same smile, eye brows furrowed a bit in curiosity, “It’s gonna sound weird since we’ve known each other for so long but I think I really like you.” You didn’t miss the way his eyes widened and his face paled.

He was scared shitless, and fumbled over his words before he sighed looking down. He leaned back on his palms staring up at the sky with a neutral expression. “Y/n…” he couldn’t look at you, you felt sick at the tone of his voice. He knew Sukuna adored you, he wasn’t blind, weather Sukuna could admit it or not no one would know him better than Yuji, no one wouldn’t be able to notice the slightest change in his personality if not his brother, “I don’t know how to tell you this, but I don’t like…” he hesitated, “I don’t see us…” he sighed thinking it over, “I don’t see you in that light, and it’s not you exactly it just…” he huffed, he didn’t know how to tell you, he wasn’t interested in you without making it seem like it was because of you, he didn’t know how to tell you he had fallen in love with his best friend, and he went through his own breakdowns and trauma, he remembered how he cried and pulled at his hair, in frustration and confusion. How Sukuna had to forcefully hold him down in a strange embrace to keep him from pulling his hair, he remembers laying in bad crying into Sukuna until Choso came home and tried to offer consolation and a level head to help him think and process everything.

The three spent their night on Yuji’s bed in a comforting silence. It was interesting watching Yuji laid on his stomach watching tv at the foot of his bed, Sukuna who was scrolling aimlessly on his phone with his feet propped up on Yuji’s back, and Choso who was sat against the headboard occasionally watching the movie while being one of the three to actually go their college work ahead of time.

“I’m gay Y/n… and I well, I already have plans with someone else…” you felt sick and stupid. Your weren’t sick because of your best friend gay, you were sick from your embarrassment. Yuji didn’t catch on having not looked away form the setting son. But you felt nauseous, you felt the embarrassment in your bones. Rejection hurt you nonetheless even though it was based on pure honesty. You couldn’t hate him or his answer, but you could fight the sentiment building up inside as you felt heat on your face. With a shaky breath and voice you answered him, “Thank you for letting me know, Yuu.” He turned to look at you concerned, he saw the tears in your eyes, “…y/n.” You smiled through your tears, “Don’t worry about it, I just hope your happy.” He wanted to comfort you but you stood up quickly, “I’ll see you around, I’m gonna go for a walk.” You waved him off quickly making your way out of sight. Staring at the sun set you ducked your head and let yourself cry until you found yourself at a park bench where you sat down letting your head fall back. Tears still flooding your eyes, you closed them shutting the evening sky out of sight. You tried to repress every sound, your ears and nose stuffy, your phone ringing with messages, probably your parents or siblings asking when you’d get home. You couldn’t stand to answer, rubbing your balled fists aggressively over your eyes trying to force the tears away. It didn’t work because it felt like they were rushing out faster. No one was there to dry your tears, your heart screamed out for just someone to come and hold you, your heart held out for a fantasy for a dream of Mr.Perfect coming and sweeping you off that bench into a hug and comforting you while you cried into the stary sky. But Mr.Perfect was a dream, and the stary night was a illusion as your hands were pulled away so you could see the full moon rising and over casting the stars to disappear. Face hot and red puffy eyes, you hated it, you hated the moon, you hated that you knew who was holding your wrists hostage, “Shitty brat, you have people losing their shit wondering where the hell you are. Is it that hard to answer your phone.” You leaned your head further back, your teary eyes and distraught face didn’t faze Sukuna as he sighed walking around the bench and sitting next to you. In the same manner he had held Yuji down he did to you when you quickly started to wipe your tears away.

“Stop it dumbass you’re gonna make it worse with how hard your rubbing your skin.” It was a quick movement he pulled you at an angle so your back was to his left side side, his left arm thrown over the back of the bench and your shoulder, his single hand held both your wrists hostage. Hi sighed and you only sniffled quietly, at least he’d given you the decency to not be seen when you cried. “You’re family called ask if we knew where you were…” you sniffled not answering, “Yuji told Cho and I everything…” silence fell over both of you. Your little movements from sniffling kept Sukuna from losing his train of thought. He lets your hands fall from his grip as he moved his hand to hold a loose choke hold over your shoulders and pull you closer against his side. He was nonchalant when he sighed, “I said it wouldn’t work out y/n, now look at us, you’re crying and I’m here holding you hostage from your own hands, way to spend a Friday night huh?” You hands sound it in you to say anything yet, your hands coming up to hold onto the loose black sleeve that covered his arm, finally your let your head fall left against his shoulder, “Did you know Yuji was gay?” “Yeah, he’s my brother, kinda knew before he knew.” You let out a single laugh, “Guess that’s why you said all that stuff then.. huh?” The silence was inevitable, Sukuna wasn’t a man of words, but the way he squeezed your shoulders was enough to comfort you.

Sure enough, it took a month, before you found yourself foolishly falling for Sukuna and his rough edges, snide comments and crude behavior. But what you loved more were the nights he’d sneak into your room when he knew a thunderstorm would come at night. And you’d sleep with the curtain open tucked into his side to watch the storm pass. Staying at the Itadori house all day to be with him and his brothers. Meeting Megumi who seemed very out of place when he first arrived, he was so docile and reserved it was humoring to think he and Yuji would be a pair. Then again anyone would say the same about yourself and Sukuna. But what really shocked everyone was when Choso brought home a friend, and announced his friend as his girlfriend, Yuki was her name.

(Alternate ending: the way Yuji made you cry? of course it fueled Sukuna’s anger. Why? because Yuji had made you cry and broke your little heart, (he’s bi he just doesnt like you and is a bit blunt with it so it comes off rude) so Sukuna decided, he’d have to make sure if he wasn’t happy no one could be happy, he convinced Megumi that Yuji actually hated him and was just being nice to him because he felt bad “A gay little twink boy” like Megumi was always alone and had no one to talk to or hang out with. Which in retaliation make Megumi shut out and cut off Yuji with no hesitation and Yuji is confused and sad, because the day he was going to confess to Megumi, he was left alone waiting all day in a cafe thinking “Megumi would never not show up without texting me?”

SurpISE on his way home Yuji see’s Megumi crying and walking solemnly in the night misty rain, he was going to approach him until he see’s someone else approaching Megumi and pulling him into a hug. He watched as Megumi slumped against this person and just stood, his forehead pressed to the teller person chest. Yuji was wide eyed when he saw the teller person left their chin from megumi’s head and using their finger tips to angle Megumi’s face up. He felt sick, that wave of nausea, embarrassment, the ache in your body that makes you wanna puke and leaves you weak, it hit him hard when he saw the taller person lean down, he saw clearly how Megumi’s tear stained lashes fluttered slowly when the other person moved in closer and kissed him. Yuji did in fact puke, but he swallowed it down. It wasn’t til the two pulled apart and started to walk together under the street lights he realized who the other guy was. He was Noritoshi Kamo, a relative of Choso’s through choso’s father’s side. Someone of a respectable and well known family who would fit Megumi far better than Yuji would’ve… he stood there in the rain looking down at the side as he slowly made his way home.

By the time he got home he was soaked, he wasn’t hungry, he just wanted to sleep. He thought about you, it weighed on him if this was how you felt? He wanted to apologize to you and maybe even consider take you out on a date instead. But he didn’t get that chance, he walked into Sukuna’s room to try and get tonight off his chest, out of his head. Instead he found you curled up in his brother, you were wearing a tank top arms wrapped around Sukuna’s torso, using his shoulder as a pillow as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You were wearing Sukuna’s sweats pants and had your leg thrown over his waist snoring away. Sukuna’s eyes were closed, his free hand tucked behind his head. It was obvious he wasn’t asleep when he opened his eyes and saw his brother in his door. “What’s wrong brat?” Yuji simply shook his head, “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” He passed Choso in the hallway who immediately stoped him concerned. Yuji cried to Choso unable to get the words out, Choso held him tight comforting his brother all night letting him know everything would be alright in time.

Tags: @mammons-wife @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing @alialucille @lexiene @domainofmarie @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @shytastemakerthing

[szarina]

boyfriend yuuji who coaxes you in thinking that megumi is kind under that cold exterior of his, which he is, and he just wants megumi to meet people, well not exactly people but get closer to itadori's chubby gf.

under that cold/blunt nature of megumi. he's a huge perv. always thinking about how cute and soft you are. stares at you with nothing but the most filthiest thought anyone can think about you.

itadori may be an idiot and act like an idiot but he's no idiot when it comes to anyone who shows the slightest interest in his cute, chubby gf. itadori knows all too well the effect you can have on people despite your skittish behavior. a simple tug on his shirt, chewing your lips or whenever you need comfort from him in situations you're uncomfortable with. you're just too cute not to draw people attention to you and that includes megumi.

stoic megumi who can't help but be jealous to itadori for having a cutie like you. who dotes on him, gives the sweetest kisses before and after missions, who have you in his lap in every minute. it's almost annoying for him but it always starts in denial and like any other denials, megumi also wants that.

it doesn't take long before itadori noticed the stares megumi steals when you weren't looking. the abrupt change of his gaze when he caught him and the sudden redness of his cheeks. megumi thinks he's discreet but he's not so subtle in hiding this from him and with the little interest megumi had on you, compiled all the common sense he have, megumi likes you and it doesn't bother him at all. confrontation is what he needed to confirm all of it.

and so here they are. itadori cradling your sleeping form. your chubby cheeks smooched in his chest, his hand on your plush waist and megumi sits a few meters apart. your little snooze can be heard in the room.

"fushiguro." he calls out to the boy in front of him and megumi's emerald eyes looks back at him. the tension is thick and megumi knows it would be something more, judging from how itadori's voice sound. the seriousness and megumi may know what will be the center of this.

"say fushiguro, do you like my girlfriend?"

there's a silence followed by a pin being dropped somewhere. he contemplates for a bit. he sees this an opportunity but what of his and itadori's companionship. ruined by his desire of something's not his let alone belonging to someone else. itadori asked, could he lie? the cat's out of the box now so need for denial. megumi's narrowed eyes looking directly at itadori any signs for sarcasm but it doesn't. itadori was serious at the question. megumi coughs, closing the book he was holding in before straightening his posture in the chair and without a beat, fushiguro drops the answer itadori was waiting for.

"what if i say, i do." he says with no hesitation. there's that anticipation of being swung by itadori's fist in a heartbeat but it never happened. itadori blinks then his lips curl in a smile before chuckling. his brows furrowing at itadori's reaction, that's it? aren't you supposed to be upset or jealous that someone is telling you openly about desiring your girlfriend.

"i am too, fushiguro. thanks for being honest." itadori mutters, admiring at your sleeping form.

that was days ago and itadori couldn't shake the thought of megumi openly admitting he likes you. he did asked the question and megumi have been his friend for a long time now and he's open of megumi going down of you, only if you wishes so.

there's much more things to worry about when you're moving your hips sensually against his bulge. the friction leaving him to sink his fingers deeper in the flesh of your hips. guiding you to the depths of pleasure you were trying to get out from him, in which he gladly do so. teeth almost clashing and spits exchanging until your lips are wet from it. gripping his hair, making him groan and the sweet, breathy moans coming from you.

"c-cumming yuu!" you moan, signalling your impending orgasm and he coos, sings you praises how you were doing so good for him. his teeth finding home in the crook of your neck. biting into the flesh and your hands finding it's way to the strands of his pale pink hair and with a scream. grinding roughly on his length, hips moving into circles and with the rutting of his hips, you came undone. soiling your panties damp with your essence and his followed suit. busting his nut inside and he groans, feeling the stickiness of it. you both stared at each other. catching your breaths from the dry high.

itadori kisses your nose, then to your cherubic cheeks. eliciting the most sweetest giggles coming from you and he doesn't waste in telling you about something, someone.

"what do you think of fushiguro?" he brought up and the name earning a frown from you. confusion and your brows crinkles at the question. "what about fushiguro?" you asked back at him. he draws patterns at the skin of your waist. averting his gaze at you whenever in deep thought.

a silly but a possible idea popped up in your mind. "do you have hots for megumi, yuuji?" making a disbelief expression in your face as a way to tease him and a horrified expression morphs into his face. sputtering a quick no and shaking his head. "it's not like that, actually talked about you." he confesses.

"me?" he nods then explains the whole situation to you. about megumi liking you and his want for you to be with him. "are you pimping me to your friend?" you asked confused at the absurdity of the whole ordeal. "no, it's not like that. i just want him to be happy."

"and do you think it's the best idea?" he nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. the idea scares you and it will be megumi out of all people. it's not like you hated the guy. you were just simply intimated at his nature but he's a good guy and yuuji and him openly discussing he desires you. you're yuuji's girlfriend and admitting he likes you in front of yuuji. he sure have guts. it made you unsure and how itadori agrees with this. your mind running in gears with the question is this totally fine? in which itadori says so.

"will it make you happy?" the sound of your voice gentle and his heart skips a beat. considerate of what he wants, such a doting girlfriend he have. "if it is, okay." you added and that's the confirmation he need before swooping you for a heated kiss. the night ending in a good note.

there's a nagging voice inside his head. the gulps of a invisible lump in his throat and did the air seems to be humid than it is? he's speechless. you were kneeling, hands in your lap while you look at him. you were presented to him like a gift.

is this for real? he thought itadori was just kidding when he presented the idea of sharing you with him and with your consent. he can barely wait to sink his teeth into yours.

"be good for us." itadori whispers, biting the shell of your ear before dipping for a kiss, peering at his classmate, disbelief painting in his face. "come on fushiguro." the pink-haired boy calls out to him. moving to the side and megumi hesitantly sinks into the mattress. facing the girl he desires for months.

biting your lips unconsciously and megumi instinctively caress your cheeks with his hands and so ever gently pressed a kiss to your lips. he waits for a reaction, you never pushed him and he moves his lips, nibbles your lower lip and you're already in a daze.

itadori smiles at your reaction. looking relax and you're already accepting megumi. he can't help but to cup your jaw and move it to the side to kiss you deeply. there's that whine and mewling. your spit connecting to his and megumi finds it hot. looking so adorable and needy for the both of them. pushing you down to the soft mattress and he sucks on the skin in your pulse point in which earned him a delectable moan from you.

his nimble fingers unbuttoning your top and did he find the sight so appetizing. your chest in display, stomach riddled with stretch marks. you're a temptation. he can't help but to lick his lips. discarding his shirt and throwing it to the other side of the room.

you peered at your boyfriend and he meet your gaze in which he smiled. telling how good you are and it make your heart flutters. holding his hands for what to come when the spiked-haired boy is already nipping on your soft skin.

itadori joins in. his tongue swirling all over the expanse of your body. he looks at fushiguro. "you're not the only one who can enjoy my baby, fushiguro." in which the latter grunted. focusing on the way your body reacts to his ministrations.

it's to good to be a dream and megumi swallows your moans while swirling his tongue inside your mouth. your eyes turning glossy and there's a cry. itadori making his way to your sopping cunt. in which he didn't let your boyfriend do as he pleases with his tongue. his fingers replacing and that your cries gets louder while he pumps his thick fingers inside you.

it starts to get competitive between the two. their greediness baring it's fangs and there's a silent clash between them who can bring you the most pleasure. megumi could get more what he bargained for but it doesn't mean he couldn't be greedy when you're presented in front of him. itadori who knows your body than you, agrees with him.

let's just hope you can take what they'll give to you.

[ydsurluvhsm]

the floor is lava

“fushiguro.”

megumi doesn’t even look up. “no.”

yuuji gasps, clutching his chest like he’s been mortally wounded. “u don’t even know what i was gonna say.”

megumi flips a page in his book. “u have that tone.”

yuuji opens his mouth, then closes it, because okay, fair. but that doesn’t mean he’s giving up. “okay, but. hypothetically.”

megumi exhales through his nose. “no.”

yuuji grins. “hypothetically,” he repeats, louder this time, “if the floor was lava—”

megumi doesn’t even let him finish. he just gets up and leaves.

“FUSHIGURO,” yuuji yells, scrambling to stand on the coffee table before his feet even touch the ground. “U CAN’T JUST WALK INTO THE LAVA LIKE THAT.”

megumi keeps walking.

“MEGUMI.”

megumi sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and turns around. yuuji is still on the coffee table, balancing like some kind of dumb little flamingo, arms out for stability. his expression is pure betrayal.

“so u want me to die,” yuuji accuses.

megumi stares. rubs his temples. then, without a word, steps onto the couch.

yuuji beams.

megumi exhales, long and suffering. “happy now?”

yuuji nods, swinging his arms like he’s about to make some olympic-level jump. “yeah. now help me get to the kitchen.”

megumi sighs, but he’s already reaching out his hand.

[nanamineedstherapy]

Mouth to Meat

Cannibal Yakuza Sukuna X [Retracted] F!Reader

Summary: Dr. Y/N L/N is tasked with profiling Ryomen Sukuna, a feared yakuza boss known for his violent tendencies and taste for human flesh. Through a series of therapy sessions, she gains his trust—or so it seems. But Sukuna isn’t the only predator in the room. Behind Y/N’s professional demeanor hides a secret far darker than even Sukuna’s sins. When the masks drop, it’s clear: monsters don’t always look like him.

Trigger Warnings: This chapter contains themes of manipulation, torture, obsessive behavior, and violence (murder), twisted relationships, blood & gore, talks of cannibalism but none actually happening, sadistic behavior, manipulative characters, psychological horror, smut between aged-up characters who are a little OC (maybe idk.) If any of these subjects are sensitive for you, please proceed with caution or consider skipping this chapter.

A/N: I had to write this chapter because I couldn't let the bitch walk into the sunset with Sukuna without consequences. If you came here looking for sanity—you’re in the wrong place. If you came for blood, mind games, and a couple so unhinged they’d make Bonnie and Clyde look like amateurs—welcome home.

Previous Chapter 3 - Unravelling the first Red Threads (Tumblr/Ao3)

Chapter 4 - Love Like a Blade to the Throat (Final Chapter)

20 years later - Prague, Czech Republic

Somewhere within a palace of glass and grandeur.

The scent of roasting flesh wove through the corridors like a lover’s whisper, curling into the opulent sitting room where she sat, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that bled light from the cloudy day onto the polished parquet.

Outside, the city stretched like a breathing tapestry—cobblestone veins pulsing with life, gothic spires cutting against the deep violet sky—a place of history, of culture, of meat .

She sipped her tea, an exquisite Darjeeling that Uraume had steeped to perfection, the delicate tannins swirling on her tongue, mixing with the ghost of her last meal.

A violinist played in the streets below, a haunting melody rising through the cold air, as if mourning something that hadn't yet died.

Sukuna was away, wrapped up in his Yakuza affairs—uninteresting, irrelevant. His business did not concern her unless it bled into her pleasures. And at this moment, her pleasure was solitude. The slow, methodical unraveling of the next course.

She ran a gloved finger along the gilded rim of her cup, watching the city breathe. The people—faceless, nameless, meaningless—walked beneath her like ants in a glass colony, unaware of their place in the food chain. She could already tell which ones would be worth her time. The elderly, too chewy. The sick, too bitter. The common, too dull.

Then there were the rarities. The ones who smelled of something divine.

She never discriminated. Child, woman, man—if they met her standard, they were meat. She appreciated the fine subtleties: the tender sweetness of youth, the complexity of a well-lived life, the marbled richness of one who indulged in excess. A trained palate could tell everything from scent alone—stress, diet, fear.

The best ones always had a touch of regret, like a delicate aging wine just before its peak.

From the lower levels of the palace, Uraume’s voice murmured instructions to the kitchen staff, knives gliding, bones cracking—the rhythmic symphony of preparation. The air carried the aroma of caramelizing fat, slow-roasted, methodically seasoned. A new acquisition.

A former artist, if she recalled correctly. He had smelled of oil paints and ambition—an excellent vintage.

A faint smile touched her lips as she traced patterns in the condensation on the windowpane.

The Japanese government had been searching for her and Sukuna for years, their relentless pursuit as amusing as it was futile. They had no face to chase and no name to whisper in their war rooms. She was a chameleon, slipping through their fingers like smoke, shifting personas like silk dresses.

She had once been a respected scientist, a leading mind in psychiatric evaluation. They had placed criminals before her, monsters they could not comprehend, and she had dissected them with words sharper than any scalpel.

But none had fascinated her. None had been worthy.

Not until him.

Sukuna.

Now how useful he’d been.

Nanami Kento had smelled of regret, of burnt-out ideals, of controlled rage masked beneath a meticulous routine. It had made his flesh all the more exquisite, the tension of his being seared into every bite.

Gojo Satoru had been more of a curiosity than a meal. A man who reeked of arrogance and saccharine defiance, the taste of him was almost overwhelming—too bright, too indulgent, like a dessert meant to be consumed in small, rare portions. And yet she had devoured him.

Together, they formed a rare combination of different types of meat that complemented each other beautifully. In fact, one could argue that they worked better in tandem than they did alone. The scent of sandalwood and petrichor still overwhelmed her senses whenever she thought of them. They were the only pair she had Sukuna personally age and dry, allowing them to indulge in small, exquisite quantities from time to time.

Their deaths had been art, a composition of pain and revelation. The moment they had realized what she was, what she had always been, had been sublime.

A deep, satisfied breath filled her lungs.

The violinist below finished her song.

A pause.

Then the next piece began—something somber, something hungry.

She smiled, taking another sip of her tea.

One day she’d invite her in for tea, and she’d never breathe again.

Suddenly, the cold kiss of metal pressed against her throat. A whisper of steel, a lover’s caress. The sharp edge bit in, precise, shallow—just enough to let warmth bloom against her skin. The scent of iron curled into the air, mingling with the fading notes of her tea.

She did not flinch.

Instead, she exhaled slowly, setting the cup down with a masterful grace. The porcelain barely whispered against the saucer. Outside, the city droned on, oblivious.

“Who are you?” She mused, voice carrying the weight of detached amusement.

“Doesn’t matter.”

The voice behind her was young. Rough with amusement, tinged with something manic, something starving. Close—too close. His breath skimmed the shell of her ear, warm and cloying with the scent of strawberry candy. That scent—familiar but off, like a memory half-rotted in the recess of her mind.

“All that matters is you are dying.”

A chuckle rumbled low in his throat, the kind that belonged to men who enjoyed carving smiles into others.

Her fingers traced the condensation on the windowpane. “At the very least,” she murmured, unbothered, “I should know who gets the privilege of killing me.”

He laughed, the sound sharp and wild, like the crackle of a fire before it swallowed a home.

“I don’t fulfill my food’s desires.”

So naive. So green.

Whoever this child was, he did not know her.

Did not recognize the years of artistry, the refinement of her craft.

But he would learn.

Her eyes flicked to his hand’s reflection in the glass, catching the faintest silhouette—a shadow barely restrained by flesh. Young. Vibrant. Pulsing with a thrill he did not yet understand.

“And Uraume?” She asked lightly, tilting her head just so. A calculated distraction. “They don’t fit your palate?”

The knife remained against her throat, but the air shifted.

“I don’t like pet meat,” he said with a rumbling laugh, something unhinged curling in his voice.

Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth. That was when she noticed it. The stillness.

Beneath her, the kitchen, once alive with the symphony of knives and fire, was silent. The staff—silent.

Not even the fire crackled anymore.

The palace was dead.

Her lips curled, amusement flickering beneath her growing hunger.

He had cleaned her table before she could even taste his work.

That was a shame.

And yet, this boy—this laughing, overgrown child—had gotten inside. Past Sukuna’s guards. Past Uraume. That in itself was... commendable .

He would taste divine.

He would taste even better if she hunted him for Sukuna before he came back.

She started her plan. The one that had never failed her before because ‘men always led with their dicks.’

Not that anyone had dared to come after her before this, so the situation would be… unique .

“I know I’m a few years older than you,” she mused, voice as smooth as the tea she had been sipping. “But I’d really like to taste you before I die.”

The blade didn’t waver.

She leaned ever so slightly into it—a delicate pressure, a dance of power.

His grip tensed.

“I can show you things you haven’t even imagined.” She let the words drip like honey, her voice lilting with something dangerous. “Might even ruin you for the rest of your life. Make you compare every woman you meet to me. And if you’ve gotten past the homeowner’s guards, then..." A small, sultry pause. “You must be worthy of a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

His laughter came abruptly, sharp and sudden, like the crack of a gunshot in an empty hall.

“Ahh, sorry, lady.”

He pulled away, hand gripping her jaw instead, forcing her gaze toward the figure—she hadn't noticed—standing in the corner.

Unmoving. Watching.

A man, twenties. Tall. Dark hair unruly, eyes shadowed with something that did not belong in the face of someone young.

Her brain flicked between them. The one behind her—grinning, feral—and the other, silent, still, with the patience of a predator that knew it would eat eventually.

“My boyfriend over there wouldn’t like that very much.”

A slow, teasing drawl.

“And I’m very loyal.”

The boy behind her—her would-be killer—let go of her jaw and took a step in front of her and crouched his gladiator form before her like a child observing a caged bird.

Close enough that the scent of him filled her lungs again—sweet, nostalgic. He reminded her of someone, but not enough. The base notes were there but not the full body of the scent.

Something was wrong.

Something was off .

“Besides,” he continued, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips beneath the large hood, the only part that was visible, “even if I wasn’t loyal and into women…” A pause, like he was savoring it. “I don’t think old hags with sloppy trail would appeal to me.”

Her blood boiled .

She was not old . Just… forties .

She was refined .

At worst, a cougar .

Her grip flexed against the armrest of her chair, nails pressing into the fabric. Her eyes flicked to the silent one in the corner again, his gaze steady, unreadable.

The boy in front of her smirked wider, tilting his head as if he could hear the rage simmering in her bones.

“Besides—” he drawled, a teasing lilt in his voice. “We’re related, Auntie .”

The room went still.

Something curdled in her stomach as he lifted a hand to his hood, peeling it back to reveal—

No.

The hair.

The shape of the jaw.

The way the light caught his features, so damnably familiar but younger, softer, unweathered by the years—

Yuji.

And yet—no.

This was something else entirely.

His grin sharpened, bright and bloodthirsty.

“Long time no see, Aunt.”

She did not let her expression waver.

“I thought you died in childbirth.”

Her voice was smooth, measured, revealing nothing. The wound at her throat was still bleeding, staining the delicate fabric of her dress, but she did not falter.

A lesser creature would have trembled. Would have broken under the weight of inevitability.

But she was not lesser.

Yuji grinned at her, bright and sharp, all teeth and madness. “Aww, well, we can’t all be lucky now, Aunt, can we?” He finished by booping her nose as he stood up to his full mountain height.

There was nothing human in his eyes.

No warmth. No mercy.

Not the kind of insanity she had known in her past lovers, in the men who thought themselves monsters but were simply misguided.

No, this was something else entirely.

This was a creature who would kill her, carve out her ribs, and dance inside the hollow of her corpse, laughing all the while.

He was like her, but tactless.

Her mind turned, cold and quick.

This was bad.

Sukuna’s relationship with Yuji’s family had never been cordial. This would not end well for her.

Not unless she could find an opening.

She refused to die on her knees. She refused to die, caught off-guard.

But before she could move, the other one—the silent one—shifted.

The dark-haired man stepped forward to say something, but Yuji grabbed him by the waist, pulling him flush against his chest in one fluid motion.

She watched as Yuji’s grip tightened possessively before he devoured the other man’s mouth. A hungry, desperate kiss, all sharp edges and insanity.

The raven-haired one stiffened, then let out a low chuckle against Yuji’s lips, something quiet and knowing, something that sent a ripple of unease down her spine. He blushed when Yuji grabbed his ass, his arms tightening around Yuji as he whispered something low, something only for Yuji to hear.

Yuji’s eyes lit up.

“Really?” His voice was laced with anticipation. He dragged his teeth along Megumi’s jaw, breathless. “Ah, Megumi, I can’t wait. I’ll give you anything you want. Whenever and wherever you want it.”

The—Megumi, apparently—blushed deeper.

Yuji kissed him again, slow and lingering, as if he’d  just offered Yuji something of value.

It didn’t matter.

None of this did.

Sukuna would be here soon, and these two would be dead.

She pressed the hidden emergency button beneath the window, her fingers barely brushing the smooth surface before retracting.

She cleared her throat, hoping to stall them with empty words.

But then—

The glint of steel.

A flash of silver.

The butcher’s knife buried deep in her throat.

The impact stole her breath. A vicious, grotesque intrusion that sent a violent shudder through her body as the blade tore into her carotid artery.

Her hand flew to the wound instinctively, fingers pressing against the gaping, bleeding maw at her neck, but it was already over.

Yuji’s voice ripped through the room.

“Don’t interrupt me when I’m talking to Megumi!”

His face was painted in her blood, crimson streaks dripping from his chin, spattered across his cheekbones like a masterpiece of slaughter.

And he still hadn’t moved his other hand from Megumi’s waist.

Still hadn’t looked at her when he plunged the blade in deeper, twisting it viciously, backhanded, with the same ease as one might swat away an insect.

Her vision blurred.

She felt the warmth of her own life spilling down her chest, soaking into the fabric of her dress, pooling at her feet.

No.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end.

Her breath hitched, gurgling as blood filled her lungs, drowning her from the inside out. Her body convulsed, her fingers trembling as they clutched at her own throat, her own wound, desperate and useless.

Yuji barely spared her another glance, his attention already back on Megumi, his lips curling in delight as if she were nothing more than an afterthought.

Nothing more than meat.

Her body sagged forward, her consciousness slipping—

And the last thing she saw before the darkness swallowed her whole was the way Megumi smirked against Yuji’s lips, eyes glinting with something ancient, something feral, something that whispered—

‘You never stood a chance.’

She was dead.

Should have been dead.

Should have succumbed to the darkness seeping into her veins, to the heat of her own blood pooling beneath her like a grotesque lover’s embrace.

But she wasn’t… dead .

Not yet.

With the last remnants of her strength, she moved.

Ripped the blade from her throat, lunged—

Yuji caught her effortlessly.

Like she was nothing.

Like she was a toy whose final act of defiance only amused him.

With an almost bored flick of his wrist, he sent her sprawling onto the cold marble, her body smacking against the ground with a wet, sickening sound. Before she could recover, before she could even breathe, he was on top of her, straddling her hips, his full weight pressing into her lungs, into her ribs, into her very existence.

She gasped. The world narrowed to the warmth of his breath, the press of his steel thighs caging her in, the sickly-sweet scent of strawberry candy, thick and artificial, tainting the coppery tang of her own blood.

Yuji leaned in close, his lips ghosting over her throat where she bled out, inhaling deeply.

“Aww, the hag fights.”

His voice was honeyed mockery, dripping with amusement.

She glared at him.

He grinned, sharp and wolfish, his nose grazing the sticky, open wound at her throat.

“Ahh, you smell nice.” He exhaled, letting the warmth of his breath trail down her skin. “But I’m not sophisticated like you, Aunt. I can’t even point out what you smell like.”

She clenched her teeth, fury crackling through her veins.

“Aww, are you mad because you’re going to be eaten?” he murmured, tilting his head, “or because you’ll be eaten by someone so uncultured?”

She wanted to spit at him, to carve her rage into his flesh, but her body was no longer hers to control.

The corners of his lips curled, delighting in her weakening form.

The edges of her vision blurred. Her limbs felt leaden. The air, thick with blood, became harder and harder to pull into her failing lungs.

Yuji tsked, shaking his head as he sat back, still straddling her, still watching the light fade from her eyes.

“I guess the mystery dies with you.” He pouted, disappointed. “Such a shame. I thought you’d put up more of a fight.”

His fingers brushed a stray lock of hair from her face, almost tender if not for the cruelty in his touch.

“You were my hero once,” he murmured, voice softer now, as if he were speaking to a childhood ghost. Then, with a sneer, he added, “And yet, you die like everyone else—pathetic. Gasping for air.”

He stood, her body already cooling beneath him.

Her vision darkened. The last thing she saw was Megumi, silent and watchful, stepping forward to press a bottle of bleach into Yuji’s waiting hand.

Yuji grinned, kissed Megumi’s cheek, and then—

The stench of chemicals flooded her senses.

The burn was instant. It set her nerves ablaze.

She screamed.

And he laughed.

She screamed again, her body thrashing weakly against the inevitable, her own agony peeling her mind apart like a scalpel to flesh—

And he laughed louder, tilting his head.

The last thing she felt was fire.

The last thing she heard was Megumi’s low, amused chuckle as Yuji whispered something against his lips.

Then—nothing.

The body was still warm when Yuji whipped his face of her blood and shoved Megumi onto the nearest table.

The same table she had sat at just moments ago, sipping her tea, watching the city below like some untouchable queen.

Now, she was nothing more than a stain on the floor.

With a smooth motion from one hand, Yuji’s hoodie hit the ground, revealing the broad expanse of his chest, the play of muscles shifting as he rolled his shoulders. His breath was heavy, the scent of blood and bleach clinging to his skin like perfume.

Megumi barely had time to react before Yuji’s hands were on him— grabbing, pulling, owning .

He smirked against his boyfriend’s lips.

They fucked right next to her body.

Yuji bit his neck in return, hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave a mark that would linger.

Megumi’s head tipped back, his voice breaking into something raw, something real.

The palace walls swallowed his cries, but the floors beneath them carried the sound two stories down.

They didn’t care.

Not when Yuji’s fingers dug into Megumi’s thighs, gripping tight, possessive, worshipping in a way only a monster could.

Not when Megumi's nails raked over Yuji’s shoulders, down his spine, carving half-moons into muscle until he, unknowingly, drew bits of blood as he shuddered under him.

Not when Yuji leaned down, peppering lazy kisses along Megumi’s jaw, down his throat, whispering, “You drive me insane, babe. I love you, so… so so much.” Each word punctuated by a deep thursts that had Megumi ascending.

And Megumi—Megumi, who never surrendered, who fought against every chain the world tried to place on him—simply whispered back, breathless, ruined, “I... I love you.”

Yuji tugged his hair, making space for himself so that he could leave his marks undisturbed. Biting and licking while his movements never slowed down.

The doors slammed open, the room shaking with Sukuna’s presence before he even spoke.

“What the fuck are you doing here, brat?” His voice was a growl, venomous and sharp. His crimson eyes flared, scanning the room— blood, bleach, a corpse.

Then his gaze snapped to Megumi.

His eyes darkened.

“And why the hell is your whore here?”

Megumi flinched, his dazed mind barely processing the insult.

Instinctively, his head dipped, pressing against Yuji’s chest, letting Yuji’s larger frame shield him from Sukuna’s line of sight.

Yuji, however—oh, Yuji did not pause.

Did not falter.

Did not even acknowledge the shift in atmosphere.

Instead, he turned his head, growling over his shoulder, voice thick with warning, dripping with something feral.

“Don’t fucking call him a whore.”

No threat. No bravado. No posturing.

Just a statement of fact.

Sukuna’s expression twitched.

Something flickered in those crimson eyes.

But whatever rage threatened to boil over, whatever punishment he had prepared, was forgotten when Yuji turned back to Megumi and continued—as Yuji felt him clench around him.

The sex was always good with Yuji, but the moments like these were what made Megumi turned on for Yuji impossibly more.

Not the voyeurism, definitely not.

Not the power.

But the devotions.

Megumi trembled, overwhelmed, undone, his entire body wrecked from the sheer force of it.

The last push, the final claim, and Megumi’s entire body shattered.

His teeth sank into Yuji’s shoulder to stifle his voice, his breath stuttering, drowning in sensation.

Yuji—strong, brutal, relentless—pressed kisses over Megumi’s hair, whispering low praises against his damp skin.

He followed soon after, burying himself deep, his fingers gripping Megumi’s waist just rough enough to hold him still, but never enough to bruise.

Even in pleasure, Yuji never hurt him.

A moment passed.

Then another.

The world slowed, settled, the tension shifting from chaos to something intimate.

Still covering him, still inside, Yuji reached for the throw blanket on the couch and draped it over Megumi’s body before pressing a soft kiss and pulling out.

Megumi, oversensitive and in love, almost whined at the loss.

Yuji kissed his nose to shush him.

Megumi, still dazed, still shaking, flushed at the warmth of it.

Yuji smirked, his voice dropping low, intimate, teasing.

“We’ll continue this in a bit.”

Megumi shivered.

He simply nodded, weakly tugging his hoodie over his head.

Yuji once dressed turned to face Sukuna, who had long since given up trying to understand whatever the hell this was. He was busy thinking.

The scent of bleach clung to the air, thick and suffocating.

His eyes flickered between the cooling corpse on the floor and the empty space where his most trusted guards should have been.

Uraume was still missing.

His staff—missing.

His castle—silent.

And standing before him now, with all the arrogance of a cat that had just torn open a bird’s throat and left it twitching in the dirt, was Yuji.

The brat yawned, stretching as if this were a casual visit. He tugged his hoodie into place, nonchalant, unbothered, unshaken.

“I came to talk retirement plans, Unc.”

Sukuna’s eyes darkened.

The casualness. The audacity.

“I will kill you,” Sukuna growled, voice low, filled with venom. Then, with a wicked sneer, he added, “Then I’ll rape your whore.”

The words were designed to provoke.

Yuji’s brows twitched, but instead of the usual explosion—the feral, bloodthirsty rage Sukuna had come to expect from him ever since learning of his existence a few months ago—Yuji smirked.

Because Yuji knew.

Knew that not reacting would send Sukuna spiraling faster than any violent outburst ever could.

“How, though?” Yuji tilted his head, voice mockingly curious. “It’s not like you’ll live long enough for that.”

Sukuna’s scowl deepened. “Threats don’t work on me.”

"Ahh, but don’t you wanna know where she went?” Yuji asked lazily. Like he didn’t really care.

Sukuna had gotten an emergency pop-up; he didn’t think it was serious; he thought she was misusing it again because she just wanted some dick in the middle of the day.

Then realization slithered into his veins like ice water.

His gaze darted to the corner by the windows.

The corner where she always sat.

The dress—the dress he had bought her a few days ago, flickred to recognition—now just another piece of ruined fabric, clinging to a lifeless body.

Bleached.

Burned.

Destroyed beyond recognition.

A sound tore from Sukuna’s throat, something raw, something he didn’t recognize.

Rage?

No.

No, it was something worse.

Yuji barely gave him a moment to process before he moved.

Fast.

Effortless.

Like he was born to kill kings.

The same massive knife drove straight into Sukuna’s skull.

Sukuna fell to his knees.

Blood poured, thick and hot, down his face, into his mouth. His body screamed at him to fight, to consume the brat and spit his bones out across the marble floor—

But he couldn’t.

His limbs refused to obey.

Yuji crouched beside him on all fours, watching with the fascination of a child pulling the wings off an insect.

Sukuna growled, lips parting to curse him, to end him—

But his tongue was useless.

His voice was gone.

The knife in his skull was cutting through everything.

He knew.

He was dying.

“Damn, Unc,” Yuji mused, tapping the handle of the knife like it was nothing more than a misplaced ornament. “I expected more.”

Sukuna’s fingers twitched, reaching, reaching—

Yuji tsked, shaking his head.

“Pathetic,” he sighed. “You know, I was gonna eat you fancy-like. High fashion. Cannibal couture.” He grinned, teeth flashing, eyes glinting with unhinged amusement. “But now? Nah. I think I’ll deep fry your ass. Serve you up with ketchup. Maybe even wrap you in a burrito with some gas station nacho cheese.”

Sukuna’s vision blurred.

His limbs weakened.

He was crawling now.

Dragging himself across the floor, inch by inch, toward her.

Yuji let him.

Watched, entertained, before lazily kicking away the furniture Sukuna tried to use for support.

“Oops.”

Sukuna barely heard it.

Barely cared.

His fingers brushed against hers.

Cold.

Lifeless.

She had gone before him.

And now—he was following.

His vision blackened.

The last thing he heard was Yuji’s voice, light, teasing, victorious.

“You know, Uncle, it’s kinda funny,” he hummed. “I did in a day what the Japanese spies couldn’t do in years.”

And then—

Darkness.

---

Japan

The scent of burnt flesh still lingered in Megumi’s nostrils as he stood by the Mustang GT , eyes hidden behind sunglasses, hands in his pockets, waiting.

The city was alive behind him—the murmur of passing cars, the distant wail of sirens. Tokyo never stopped.

Neither did they.

He could still recall how they had to tie Sukuna along with his woman to a boulder and sink him in the ocean. Being cannibals sounded absolutely disgusting to both him and Yuji; it was more to piss her and Sukuna off in there final moments.

A woman and her son approaching broke him out of his thoughts.

The woman—blonde, aged by grief rather than years—moved stiffly, as if the weight of her own bones was too much to bear. Her son, broad-shouldered, protective, walked beside her like a silent bodyguard, one hand resting on her shoulder as if that could shield her from reality. He had to grow up too quickly when his older brother, some long white-haired idiot, got kidnapped by Y/N years ago, and they serched but found absolutely nothing until he met Megumi in college.

Megumi didn’t acknowledge them beyond extending his hand. The woman pressed a thick envelope of cash into his palm, fingers trembling.

He took it without looking.

In exchange, he handed her his envelope.

Inside was—photographs.

The last remnants of the woman she had spent decades searching for.

The last proof that her nightmare had an ending.

Her breath hitched as she flipped through them, her shoulders sagging with a relief that was almost indistinguishable from sorrow. Tears rolled down her cheeks, silent, exhausted.

Megumi turned to the son, offering him the envelope of cash back.

“Take this,” he said, voice as flat as dead air. “Leave the country. Never return.”

The son hesitated and looked at Megumi like he wanted to say something. But in the end, he took the money.

And they left.

Megumi watched Todo and his mother, Yuki Tsukumo, disappear into the Tokyo sunlight.

It had been years since Megumi first realized the world wasn’t made of heroes and villains—just predators and prey.

When he was a child, someone had killed his father’s best friend, his godfather, Gojo Satoru, Japan’s former defense minister. The same person had slaughtered Gojo’s husband, Nanami Kento, the nation’s most renowned psychiatric scientist for the criminally insane.

The murderer was never caught.

Not because there was no evidence. Not because there were no suspects.

But because no one ever saw the culprits again.

The perfect crime.

Or so they thought.

When Megumi entered university, he found him.

Itadori Yuji.

Shy, socially awkward, nerdy Yuji.

Yuji, who stuttered when Megumi looked at him too long.

Yuji, who was too eager to please, too quick to latch onto Megumi’s words like they were commandments from God.

Yuji, whose hands twitched when he thought no one was looking.

Yuji, who would do anything for him.

That was when Megumi knew.

Someone had to replace Geto Suguru after his unfortunate suicide.

And who better than Megumi himself.

The plan he had crafted with Higuruma would succeed. And it did.

Yuji wasn’t just insane.

He was Megumi’s brand of insane.

The problem was his family.

Toji and his sisters Maki and Mai were now breathing down his neck to let them ‘protect’ Megumi from Yuji.

He wasn’t supposed to become this insane.

They were watching, waiting for proof that Yuji had rotted beyond repair.

That he was too far gone.

For Megumi to kill him and clear his own name, forever.

They didn’t understand.

Yuji wasn’t a mistake.

Yuji was in love.

And Megumi didn’t want a love that came with boundaries wrapped in ‘unconditional’ packaging.

Megumi didn’t want a love who wouldn’t kill for him

Once he knew what he could have, he didn’t want to get back to dating a partner who would turn into just another ordinary 9-to-5 nobody—some lifeless, gutless thing that spent years chasing him only to grow fat and complacent the second he confessed.

Someone who’d let their body and mind wither, who would suck the life from him, siphon his ideas, drain his passion until he was nothing but a husk.

Sucking up his energy and drive and keep taking and taking until there is nothing left to take, then one day wake up and tell Megumi he’s changed. He’s not socially acceptable in one way or the other; he isn’t this or that when they never look at themselves.

No.

Megumi didn’t want it at any cost.

He wanted Yuji.

Because Yuji would never stop chasing him.

Yuji would never stop seeing him, loving him, prioritizing him over everything and everyone—even his own blood.

Yuji would never become complacent in any way that hurts Megumi.

Megumi wanted a love that could burn the world down for him all the while smiling about it.

And Yuji gave him that.

For seven years now, Yuji had proven it, time and time again.

He had slit throats and burned bodies and erased entire bloodlines for him.

He had made Megumi the center of his universe.

And Megumi would never settle for less.

So he decided.

He opened the car door with a click and slid inside.

Warm arms wrapped around him immediately.

Yuji’s lips ghosted over his temple, lingering, slow.

“You look like a hot celebrity in sunglasses, Megumi,” Yuji murmured in his ear, voice husky. “Keep wearing those.”

Megumi grumbled, but his face betrayed him, the blush creeping up his neck.

Yuji grinned, turned the ignition and shifted gears.

The Mustang GT roared to life, leaving the past in flames behind them.

A/N: And that concludes this love story—if you can even call it that. A relationship built on devotion, manipulation and an unholy amount of meat.

All Works Masterlist

[blackcvrds]

@catsmical i might have lost the plot because FUCK. but here you go<3

this is not even proof-read because i just need to post it or i will throw up. also fact of the day: apparently -chan is for dogs, too!

"Good boy, Yuji."

It should be demeaning. Yuji really should get up off their bedroom floor, where he kneels at Megumi's feet, and Megumi's hand rests gently in his hair. Petting. Instead, a fuzzy feeling is gently smothering his thoughts, and simmering in his gut.

"Does Yuji want a treat?" Yuji squirms. It really should be patronising, annoying at the very least. God, Yuji really does want a treat. He opens his mouth to answer, but Megumi is faster. "Puppies don't speak, Yuji-chan."

The blush that riots across his cheeks burns, but if Yuji had a tail, it'd be wagging. He nods. Megumi's smile is kind, but there's a wicked gleam in those green, green eyes. "Good boy. Go get my cock for me. Fetch."

Heat flashes not only on Yuji's face, but down his neck, his chest. The embarrassment almost hurts, but not as much as the ache in his dick at Megumi's obvious amusement, not as much of the ache of how badly he wants to please him. He crawls, sensible enough not to bother walking, over to the box where they keep their toys, the tag of his collar clinking gently in the silence as he goes. He opens the box with his hands, but freezes at Megumi's firm "ah ah" as he tries to pick the strap-on up. Confusion floods the laquer of his sweet brown eyes as he looks back.

"Is that how puppies pick things up, Yuji-chan? I don't think so."

It takes a second to dawn on him.

Oh.

The writhing in his gut amplifies to snakes as he stares at his boyfriend, who remains the picture of composure. Bastard. Yuji doesn't move, can't move. He's not gonna be able to pick it up like that. If he holds it in his mouth to bring it back, he's gonna drool, he's gonna drool like a-

"Only good dogs get what they want, Yuji."

Fire. He's scalding, licked by flames all over. His second-chance heart thumps in his chest, and he's overcome with the urge to hide. A puppy who stole food from his master's plate; ashamed of taking what he wants, even when he just can't help it.

Yuji head dips into the box. Soft, cool silicone greets his lips as he tries to figure out how to pick the dildo up without digging in his teeth. He opens his mouth wide, and sets his teeth gently, oh so gently around it, and lifts. Soft-mouthed like a game dog, he crawls back. He was right, saliva gathers cold in the corners of his too-open mouth. It's really hard to think about it though, when he's back at Megumi's feet, Megumi whose breathing is now audible.

"Drop it," he whispers.

Yuji does.

"Good dog."

[thoughtssvt]

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."

[jean47mclean]

Who Am I If Not Yours?

Childhood friends Yuuji and Megumi are inseparable. They go through thick and thin together, even apply to the same college. But as they're both forced to move to the big city and experience city life, their personalities become a contrast and Megumi finds himself at war with himself. He doesn't easily make friends, doesn't trust people. Yuuji, however, shines in a crowd, has a natural likeness that attracts many. Megumi starts to believe while knee deep in his rigorous biology classes as he works himself for vet school that this darkness of his only dims Yuuji's, and starts to isolate himself for the sake of their futures. He can't afford to be distracted, and Yuuji can't be allowed to be Megumi's friend when all he does is keep him back. The two slowly drift apart, and it really isn't until Yuuji's last semester as a film student, when he realizes that Yuuji wants to travel and direct films all over the world, that Megumi, who had plans on opening a clinic back in their hometown, will always drag him down.

The day of graduation, Megumi gets the courage to finally admit his romantic feelings for Yuuji. However, as he pushes his way through the crowd to get to a familiar head of pink hair, a hand grabbing his arm stops him. He comes face to face with a girl with short blond hair, a face faintly familiar. She's talking to him, face pink, but his mind is set on getting to Yuuji. When he turns back around to find that same head of hair, it's gone. He scans the crowd frantically, knowing this was his last chance to see Yuuji before he left for an apprenticeship, but to no avail. He thinks maybe he sees a flash of it from the corner or his eye, but only catches the receding form of short brown hair and a tall lean frame. That was it, he thinks. That was the universe telling him it wasn't meant to be. Giving up, he turns back to the girl who's stuttering before him, but he doesn't so much more than whisper a quick apology before he moves his way back to his dorm. Letting the feeling of dread and emptiness fill his lungs, he shuts the door behind him and takes in the single bed, stripped of all belongings like the rest of the room. It feels darker than it ever had before, and as his hands shake, he takes the one object left on his desk as tears blur his eyes. It had been a birthday present from Yuuji on his 18th birthday, just before they were going to be starting their last semester of high school together, in the small town they grew up in. It was a photo book, full of pictures Yuuji had taken of the two of them, some himself, some of Megumi. There were notes written in his sloppy handwriting to remind him of each event, with funny stickers plastered to the sheets the photos sat in and some sticky notes of drawings that he had kept when Megumi had wanted to throw them away. "Why get rid of art when it makes you so happy?" he had once asked. Megumi thinks back to his sketchbook he hasn't touched since senior graduation, and says to the empty room "because it's too painful to keep" before throwing the photo album in the trash bag.

Months blur together, the text messages that come in from Gojo and Yuuji become less and less frequent as Megumi ignores them in favor of his studying. He works overtime as much as possible, and when he's not preparing for his future then he's either visiting Tsumiki at the hospital or sleeping in his dingy one bedroom apartment. His life is stagnant and dark, but he only pushes himself more to ignore the empty cave in his chest and so the weight in his limbs doesn't set in and drag him down. He's not even sure why he's trying so hard, but being around animals and helping them feel better feels like something only he can do. It's not until a year later, nearly 2 after the day he had turned the lights off in his old dorm room at the university he and Yuuji went to, does he lose a life. It's a white German shepherd, his energy boundless up until its owner walks in coated in his blood. As he looks at the table when the reality of death weighs over his head hits him, it's almost like he's paralyzed. That day he leaves without another word, still dressed in scrubs coated in the blood of an innocent dog, walking aimlessly in the streets of a city he never wanted to be in.

As he wanders alone, the cold biting at his skin and numbing his hands, he finds himself stopping in front of a movie theater, the twinkling lights surrounding him with a kind of light he hasn't felt in a long time, even in the summer sun when his clothes would stick to him and remind him of days by a lake and a smile that he can no longer remember as clearly as he once did. He looks up from the ground, the cold concrete unmoving as his eyes lift to read the signs in front of him. There's a few posters taped to the windows, and by sheer luck (or a curse, Megumi thinks this is just the universe's way of laughing at him) his eyes land on the one dead center. It looks like a cringey horror film from the cover alone, but the title of the movie screams the kind of movie Yuuji would have made him watch during one of their annual movie nights, popcorn bowl sitting in his legs as Megumi munched on ginger candies to help relieve the sour taste in his mouth at the obscene amounts of blood and gore that filled the screen before them. His eyes scan the poster, flying over the names of the actors and actresses down to the name that seems to seep into his very soul, carving out an even bigger hole in his chest as it seems to fill his lungs with liquid lead. The name mocks him as he stands in front of the movie theater, unmoving even as people make their way around him, happy couples entering and exiting with smiles on their faces as thought oblivious to the inner turmoil Megumi seems to find himself crushed under.

It takes everything in Megumi not to break down to pieces, crumbling to ash right there. The cold numbs him but the tears that leave his eyes leave searing heat down his cheeks. He doesn't run, hasn't run since he had done a mandatory race for PE back in high school, Yuuji trying to stay in line with him but always just a little bit ahead. Trying to hold himself back for Megumi's sake. Megumi walks back to his apartment (he calls it home, but knows it's the furthest thing from it) and buries himself underneath a wool blanket he had carried with him since he was left alone at the age of 4, no money for heat or food, and especially not enough to keep 2 children alive. He thinks of Tsumiki, and her never ending state of unchanging, laying as still as a corpse and the doctors that whisper words that always leave him unsettled. Her chances of making it are low, probably as low as the white retriever that had died on the table that same day. He thinks back on who he used to be, before Gojo, and then before university. He had been so different then, with the presence of his own sun lighting his life up and making all the monsters not even dare touch him. He reflects on the animals that depend on their owners that keep them alive, thinks of how the odds are always against domesticated animals after being left behind or kicked out. He thinks, distantly, that when the lady had showed up with the dog in her arms today, she didn't even look that bothered. Like the reflection of her emotions was a thin veil of contentment, finally able to feel free from the chains of responsibility the dog had put on her.

Days go by, and Megumi lets time exist outside of his world. There's many missed calls that drain his battery even further until it dies in the passage of time, messages that blow up his phone until he feels like throwing it at the wall, but Megumi lets the hunger ebb at his stomach until he can't tell is he's hungry or dying anymore, only resorting to take minute sips from a dusty plastic cup that sits on his bedside table as he fades between reality and dreamless sleep. Everything feels so cold and dark, even the blanket that he clings to like a lifeline as he battles with concepts and meanings of life, purpose, love, and loss. He can't tell the days apart as his curtains shun him from the harsh light of the sun and the soothing rays of the moon, and it isn't until there's a knock on his door that draws him out of his own head, his body screaming at him as he moves sluggishly. He opens the door to see Gojo standing there, sunglasses for once no where in sight. He can't remember that last time he's seen the man, can't recall the last time they even had a conversation that wasn't clipped and short. His piercing blue eyes seem duller than what he can remember, and he doesn't think he's ever seen those pale cheeks that sunken or red before. Gojo looks at him like he's seen a ghost, or maybe like he's looking in a mirror. Megumi isn't sure, but when those eyes seem to focus back on him after a scan of his living space, it's almost like those once familiar eyes dulled to gray, a shade devoid of all color. He doesn't bother to smile, or make a joke, he just scuffs one of his shoes Megumi knows he has owned since before taking the Fushiguro's in and seems to avoid looking at his "son" any longer. "You've been ignoring us" his voice is raspy, as though he hasn't seen a fragment of the lakes they live nearby. Megumi says nothing, returning his lifeless eyes to the other, who continues to avoid looking at him as though it would kill him. Dead silence surrounds them.

"Megumi-" Gojo starts, but he's cut off by the same person he called out to. "Why are you here?" His voice is even drier than the white haired man's is, and it sounds like he's been smoking since he was old enough to walk. Again, there's more silence. Neither have been good when it comes to emotions, and Gojo is always willing to sugar coat everything but a truth as important as what he says next. "Tsumiki died," Gojo started with. His voice cracks, the weight of the words dropping along with it. It cuts through the silence as sharp as it cuts the air from Megumi's lungs. He doesn't process what he does next, shutting the door in Gojo's face, dropping to the floor and screaming to the old wood of his tiny little apartment, none of it is processed until much later. He didn't hear the regretful and hesitant footsteps leave the steps to his door, or register the amount of pain his entire body was in. The sobs that wracked his body shook his entire being, but the void in his chest clouded his perception more than the grief he was feeling.

Reaching out for his phone on the floor where it had been left abandoned after he threw it in a fit of rage, turning it on and ignoring the hundreds of notifications that he ignored. In one second he's staring at a screen of questions, and the next he has a familiar number pulled up, dialing it for the first time in what must be years. He doesn't know what compels him. Maybe it was remembering how it felt to be comforted on the night Tsumiki had been admitted to the hospital, or the time when he had opened up about his time before Gojo; both to the one other person in the world that mattered most to him. It's the same person's name who's name is displayed on his phone screen, the same name that carved out a hole in his chest, the same name that used to make him feel butterflies, and the name he would remember even if he forgot everything else. He clutches his phone tight, throat tight as he waits and waits for the other to pick up. At the last second, Megumi thinks he won't, and goes to end the call before making an even bigger fool of himself, before the phone clicks and a voice he only hears in his dreams now echoes through the crappy speakers of his cracked phone.

"Hello? Megumi?" Yuuji's voice is as sweet as he remembers, sounding like honey that flows and coats his ears. He wants to respond, truly, but just as he goes to there's sound in the distance on the other end, it sounds like laughter, someone calling out to Yuuji. "I'll be right there, hold on!" Yuuji tells the person, his warm smile evident in his voice even from what is probably thousands of miles of distance between them. There's a small bout of quiet that sits between them, but it isn't uncomfortable. Megumi goes to speak again, a sob threatening to break through first, but then Yuuji speaks again. "Hey, I don't know why you called, but Gojo's been really worried about you. He asked me about you, you know. And I couldn't tell him anything. It made me think, you know, that there used to be a time when I knew everything about you, sometimes even more than you did. I don't know where I went wrong, but I miss you. I miss you a lot, Megs."

The realization sinks into Megumi as he lays on the floor, the light of whatever day is left completely gone with thanks to the curtains he hung up over the singular window. His phone reminds him to plug it in, as it's almost dead, and that sinking feeling that had disappeared for a moment has returned full force. Yuuji sounds just as happy as ever, maybe even happier. There are people waiting on him, people who aren't Megumi, people who can laugh and have as much fun as freely as Yuuji does. He's made a movie for goodness sakes, his life is going so well. Megumi will be damned if he ruined the good things Yuuji has going for him. He lets the silence between them sit as what sounds like waves are crashing in the background on Yuuji's side, and just as it sounds like Yuuji is about to keep going, Megumi hangs up. He sends a last text to Yuuji, a final goodbye to the love of his life, and then lets his phone slip out of his hand, onto the floor. He doesn't stay to see if Yuuji responds, doesn't bother to glances at the missed messages from Gojo, Geto, his other sisters, or Nobara, or even Shoko. If he thinks about them for too long, he's going to talk himself out of what he has his mind set on doing. He picks himself up from the floor, body aching dully as he slips on a pair of worn out shoes on his way out. He leaves the place with his beloved books, his blanket left on the bed, cold and forgotten. His phone dies on the floorboards, and with an empty cup of water left surrounded by dust. The walk is short to the bridge, a bridge surrounded by woods with a heavy stream of water and sharp rocks bringing life with the fish it brings. Here, in the middle of the quiet, surrounded by forestry and animals, alone but at peace with himself, is where he belongs. He's spent so long believing his purpose was for others, but as he falls to the water, he thinks he's finally going where he's always meant to be.

[shehatescoffee]

another drabble idea from ur pookie

jealous itafushi going either way 😁

Yuuji is a bit of a hypocrite.

He smiles a lot. At everyone. Actually, it's rare that he can't find a reason to smile. He thinks smiling makes everyone feel at least a little better, so why wouldn't he smile whenever he can?

Megumi isn't like Yuuji, because Megumi doesn't smile, at least not in public. Well, usually he doesn't smile.

He's smiling right now, though, and it's sort of a shock to Yuuji's system.

It's not like Yuuji can fault him for it. They just saved this guy from getting torn in half by a curse that looked like what would happen if a spider and a centipede had a baby, so it's only natural that Megumi is trying to comfort him with his kind, soft smile, and it looks like it's working by the way the man pulls Megumi into a crushing hug while blabbering endless "thank you"s.

But, like he said, he's a hypocrite, and it hurts just a little to see that wondrous, rare smile directed toward anyone except him. Maybe it's wrong that Yuuji's built it up in his head that he's the only one who can elicit a smile from Megumi. Maybe that's selfish, and maybe a better boyfriend would want their partner smiling all the time.

But damn it, Yuuji can and will smile enough for the both of them. He knows this part of the job is hard for Megumi, and that's why he usually offers to console the victims while they wait for EMS or an Assistant Manager. Today, however, he'd had to wait until the sticky web the curse used to stick him to a wall dissolved enough to rip through while Megumi and his shikigami got the civilians to safety.

Finally free of the vile substance, he speedwalks over toward his boyfriend and the man. Just as they break from their hug, Yuuji smoothly slides his arm around Megumi's waist and tugs him against his side, beaming at the victim with the brightest smile he can muster (and hoping his irritation isn't too obvious). "Hey! Glad to see you're okay, dude!"

Megumi yelps in surprise, but he turns his lingering smile toward Yuuji as he begins to pick off lingering threads of webbing with nimble fingers. "He was just thanking us for getting here so quick, since we managed to stop the curse before there was much property damage," Megumi explains, voice sounding drained from the exertion of their battle despite the smile on his face. Yuuji's grip tightens on his hip.

In front of them, the man smiles and nods insistently. "Yes, exactly! Thank you both so much!" He turns to Megumi. "You especially, the frogs were a little gross but I'm so thankful you saved me."

Grin faltering ever so slightly, Yuuji leans forward a bit. "No problem, man! Try not to get cursed again, all right? Have a good day!"

The man seems a little shocked as they abruptly exit the building, Yuuji guiding Megumi by his hand, but Yuuji doesn't notice nor care.

When they're finally in the backseat of the car on the way back to Jujutsu Tech, Megumi rolls his eyes obviously, but he doesn't chastize Yuuji, which Yuuji takes as a win. Especially when the eye roll bleeds into a shy smile and a kiss on the cheek.

So, maybe he's a bit of a hypocrite, but he doesn't really care to change that.

[sugarc00kie5]

Light Itafushi Angst

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

Megumi sits at his desk, hunched over pieces of notebook paper blotted wet with tears. His fingers tremble as he holds the pen.

Today, Yuji told me that he’s never seen me cry. I brushed it off and told him that I don’t cry, that I never cry. Yuji didn’t say anything. Instead, he just laughed. So, I asked what was so funny. He said that he cries a lot for me, because I am a house full of deadbolts and I’d rather tear myself down than change any of the locks

Megumi wipes his eyes with his fuzzy sleeve and tries to ignore that he is nothing but a race without a finish line.

‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿

[sunnyyflowerrs]

our song

yuuji asks megumi what their song is. cute itfs established relationship fluff. minor 268 spoilers. very silly and unserious. under the cut! ~800w

Sunlight filtered through the window, casting an orange glow in Megumi’s bedroom. The two of them were sitting on the bed, doing nothing but enjoying each other’s presence. Yuuji’s head was rested on Megumi’s chest, and music was softly playing from his phone as he scrolled through some dumb app. Megumi had a book open on his lap, a new release on penguins migration patterns that he’d been meaning to read.

“Hey, Megumi?” Yuuji said, the music from his phone stopping as he paused.

The name catches him off guard, as it always does. It’s still new and fresh, and with where his boyfriend’s head is precariously rested on his chest, Megumi is sure that Yuuji can hear how his heart speeds up.

“Yeah?” Megumi responded, not looking up from his book. It was a futile attempt to seem disinterested, an act where Megumi pretended as if he wasn’t holy distracted by the feeling of Yuuji’s warmth. He’d been on the same page for 30 minutes, barely advancing a paragraph.

“What do you think our song is?” Yuuji asked, his head at a weird angle to catch his eyes.

“Our song?” Megumi echoed, giving up on his reading act to meet Yuuji’s honey brown gaze.

“Yeah, like a song that encompasses our relationship. I saw a Tiktok about it.”

“You know I don’t listen to music much.”

“Yeah, yeah, you have a soul of an old grandpa and no creativity.” Yuuji laughed, the complaint lacking any real bite.

“Old soul,” Megumi corrected. “What do you think is our song, then?”

“Hmm.” Yuuji’s eyebrows furrowed like they always did when he was lost in thought. “Oh! I know! Hakari introduced me to these english rappers and I love them. I think I might even change my type.”

“Really?” Megumi said, eyebrows raised in surprise. Yuuji took his type seriously.

“Yeah. I’m thinking of changing my intro to, ‘Hi, I’m Itadori Yuuji, and I like tall woman with a big ass, like Megan thee Stallion”

Megumi sighed, “Or, you could just say ‘Hi, I’m Itadori Yuuji.”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I’m confused. If I’m not your type, then why date me?” Though it was meant to be lighthearted, Megumi did wonder what made his boyfriend choose him. He might be tall, but he wasn’t as well endowed in the ass department.

“What do you mean?” Yuuji said, tilting his head like a confused puppy. “That’s completely different! Type has nothing to do with who you love”

“I-“ Megumi blushed at his blunt confession, and desperately wished of a change of subject before he turned into a tomato. “Shut up. What does this have to do with our song?”

“Well, she has this one song, Wanna Be, and I think that could be our song!” Yuuji said, excitedly. He pulled up a music app on his phone and suddenly the song started playing through the speakers.

As the music played, Megumi just stared at his boyfriend incredulously. “What.”

“You don’t think this is us?”

“No?”

Yuuji shook his head. “Wait, wait, see i translated the lyrics-“

“You translated the lyrics?”

“And here she says ‘if he don’t wanna be saved, don’t save him,’ and isn’t that what I said to you? During the battle?”

Megumi just continued to stare at him in disbelief. “I don’t think that’s what she meant. At all.”

“And here at the end,” Yuuji continued, ignoring him, “the other rapper is hyping her up, saying ‘Go Meg, Go Meg’, and that kinda sounds like your name!”

“Your english accent is horrendous,” Megumi commented, at a loss for what to say.

“Whatever, that doesn’t matter. what do you think?” Yuuji looked at him, now sitting up. He had so much excitement in his eyes, Megumi felt like if he voiced his true thoughts it would be like kicking a puppy in the face.

That doesnt mean it’s easy to come up with a compliment though. “Um,” Megumi started, reaching for anything positive to say, “it’s really something.”

Yuuji frowned. “You don’t like it,” he pouted, joy in his face dimming.

Fuck. That was the wrong thing to say. He was so bad at this. “No, no,” Megumi backtracked. “It’s so … us.”

At that, Yuuji smiled. “Then, it’s set! It’s our song.”

Megumi smiled softly at his boyfriend’s wide grin. Even though it wasn’t his first choice, or even in his first hundred choices, it was still theirs, and how Megumi not love anything that was theirs? He opened his book again and trained his eyes on the paged he’d try to read a thousand times, failing at hiding his blush. “Yeah, it’s our song.”

———

if you made it this far, thanks for reading!! this is such a dumb idea but i heard the song and needed to write them with it, but it was way too short/plotless to go on ao3 so i plopped it here. hope y’all enjoyed!

the song in question:

[oppitfs]

Words: + 2K Prompt: Cooking together and healing wounds Warning: Slight season one spoilers; hurt/comfort; slight descriptions of blood and negative thoughts; sad ending. N/A: I had this idea a while ago while looking at the first season, but I just got up the courage to finish writing and editing it now. It's a bit ironic that I write tentative comedy with Megumi while leaving the angst to Yuji. The title is from the song Happier by Marshmellow.

“Please, Fushiguro” Itadori begged, hands clasped in prayer and a prominent pout on his face.

“I won't do that, Itadori. Do not insist." Megumi took a sip of his coffee, watching the pink haired boy offer the biggest version of kicked puppy dog eyes he had ever seen. Before Itadori opened his mouth to argue, Megumi added, "Besides, it's late to be playing cook with you."

From the couch in the common room, eyes still down on his cell phone, Kugisaki groaned in impatience.

“Just say yes so this idiot will shut up.” She points a blue-painted fingernail at him. “Not a piece of that emo ass of yours is going to fall off anyway.”

Megumi muttered an expletive.

Kugisaki was proving to be much more frustrating than Itadori.

Well, actually she wasn't wrong, but the very idea of cooking after a training day when everyone could very well order takeout was silly to say the least. What's the point of having Gojo's credit card if they can't use and abuse it?

“Okay, fine.”

"Yes! Good one, Kugi!” Itarori exclaimed at the same time that Kugisaki, with the same petulant expression as always, retorted: “See? Not a single strand of that sea urchin hair of yours has fallen out.”

Megumi wasn't really sure about that, but he was too grumpy to care about Kugisaki's nasty nickname. Instead, he got up and took the mug of coffee grounds to the sink.

He sometimes hated his outgoing classmates.

Even with his back turned and clearly pretending to be ignoring them, Kugisaki added:

“And make sure those meatballs are excellent! I'm a very demanding girl.”

Itadori suddenly appeared at Megumi's side, slipping an arm around his shoulders casually and intimately. The sponge slipped from his hand. Megumi knew that the pink-haired boy was an enemy of personal space, just like Gojo, but even so, the one-armed hug took him by surprise.

The room was hot.

"They'll be the best you've ever had." Itadori hummed. “Family recipe!”

“I think it's really good. I'm giving up one of the food at a nice restaurant because of you, you hear?"

When Kugisaki left, presumably heading towards Maki's dorm, Megumi pushed Itadori's arm away from his space. The pink haired boy just laughed out loud, apologizing before heading to the fridge.

Megumi snorted, white foam on his hands.

“I don't know why you would need my help. After all, this is your family recipe.”

The accusing tone didn't seem to faze Itadori, who spoke without looking at him:

“Well, I thought it would be nice for you, you know. Eating only instant ramen and drinking black coffee is not healthy.” The boy cocked his head as he looked him up and down. Megumi forced herself not to shy away from his scrutiny, but heat still licked his cheeks. “And what do you weigh? 60 kilos? You need to eat better.”

“There is nothing wrong with my weight.” Megumi retorted, feeling torn between offended and intrigued that Itadori knew his weight. He studied the ingredients placed on the counter by the other boy, testing the weight of the chicken packet, before adding, “And I don't just eat that. Shoko wouldn't let it. She is very strict about food.”

Itadori stopped whistling an irritating pop tune upon hearing this.

“She's the doctor here, isn't she? Wow. I didn't know you'd known her for quite some time.”

“What are we doing anyway?”

If the change of subject surprised Itadori, he didn't show it.

Megumi didn't feel like telling Itadori that he had known Ieiri Shoko since he was six, when Gojo had taken him to her to find out what his red face, fever and vomiting could mean. Intestinal problem, of course. Anyone would have these problems being put on the candy-based diet that Gojo kept. At least, that's what Shoko said while ruffling Megumi's hair.

Itadori held out a knife to Megumi and a cutting board with a large ginger on it.

“Chicken meatballs with ginger sauce.” Itadori answered, as if it were obvious, which it wasn't. “Can you cut the ginger for me while I grind the chicken?”

Megumi shrugged.

"Clear."

“It needs to be really thin.”

"Okay."

“And watch out for...”

“Itadori, I am perfectly capable of cutting a ginger”

"Right. Just making sure. But if you have any doubts...”

"One more word and I'm leaving." Megumi threatened, pointing the tip of the knife at the boy. "Stay quiet."

Itadori raised his hands, as if defending himself against a wild cat. The smile on his face was so big it pushed his eyes and the scars beneath them up, almost as if they were closing. Megumi wondered if he didn't feel pain from smiling so much.

“Sure, sure. Pardon me. I will not talk anymore.

“You are still talking.”

This only made Itadori laugh harder.

"Now. Now I won't talk anymore. Interest. Pinky promise."

“Itadori...”

The pink boy pursed his lips now, sliding his index finger over his thumb as if zipping it up.

He turned his back on Megumi, working on what should be the chicken, leaving the sorcerer the simple task of chopping – in thin slices, as “ Chef Itadori” said – the ginger. The penetrating and spicy aroma was not unfamiliar to Megumi. It reminded him of when he cooked with Tsumiki, adding more seasoning than necessary since neither of them had a recipe book, which resulted in spicy, strong food. His sister just stuck out her tongue and moaned in disgust, but Megumi always liked the sting of his tongue.

It was good. A good memory despite all the poverty they lived in.

Of course, that all came to an end when Gojo came along and included sweets in his routine. Tsumiki loved it and Megumi liked that she was happy. She deserved it after all.

Megumi felt that familiar feeling of anguish in his chest, the same as when he remembered his sister.

Tsumiki was good, kind and understanding. She deserved all the happiness a human could deserve.

But the world is uneven, isn't it?

And people like Megumi end up getting what they don't deserve while people like Tsumiki, truly good and without a hint of selfishness, are affected by curses and thrown into a hospital bed with no prediction of waking up...

The spiral of thoughts is cut by a wave of pain.

Red drips onto the cutting board.

“Fushiguro!” Itadori exclaims, appearing at his side quickly. "Are you well?"

“Oh, sure.” He replies, still staring at the small cut on his index finger. A red line runs down the milky skin. “It was a small cut.”

"He is sure? I'll get the first aid kit.”

“Itadori, this is an exaggeration...”

His comment was of no avail, as Itadori already had an arsenal of bandages and antibiotics. It would be ridiculous if the selfless gesture didn't take Megumi by surprise. It wasn't a deep cut and it would probably stop bleeding if he just pressed on it, but Itadori didn't seem to think that way if the way he carefully held Megumi's hand to clean the cut, much larger and warm fingers gently wrapping around his fingers – and perhaps reverence? – it meant something.

Megumi swallowed hard, not knowing how to deal with it – or with the way his heart missed a beat when Itadori gently blew on the wet wound.

He had a notion that Itadori probably wasn't used to seeing open wounds as often as Megumi himself had. No, the pink-haired boy had a nice life with his now-deceased grandfather, with friends and probably middle-school sweethearts all around him. Before meeting Megumi, he had never seen a curse rend the fragile flesh of heedless sorcerers with just one movement, never had to tend to their wounds after intense training and without pause because – according to Maki-san – 'curses won't care if it's sold out'. Yuji Itadori never saw what Megumi saw.

That thought makes his mood sour, any enchantment that Itadori is nursing his wounds dimming.

“Let go of my hand, Itadori.” Megumi ordered, pulling his hand away from Itadori's softness, caress and seal. He can't handle this anymore. "I already told you it's an exaggeration."

"But I'm not done yet." The pink boy whimpers, holding tighter, careful not to touch the cut skin. When Megumi tugged again, now feeling as if the tips of his ears had been dipped in embers, Itadori had the gall to laugh. “You look like a skittish cat. Let me take care of you.”

The words come out before Megumi can reflect.

"Why? Why would you do that?"

Why do you care about me when I threw you into this shitty life?

Megumi wanted to kick herself for having those thoughts.

He doesn't need help, Itadori's kindness, much less someone to care for him. Everyone knows that being a jujutsu sorcerer was a sentence, a race whose end was just a pile of corpses and dried blood. There was no gratification, there was no glory, there was no happy ending for anyone who entered this life. All that existed was a sense of purpose that each of the sorcerers clung to. Allowing people to come together, cross lines and bond was just a more painful way to end this marathon. Even the great Satoru Gojo knows this. Megumi doesn't want someone tending to his injuries, sharing fleeting moments like cooking together and caring. Because in the end, when all this shit with Sukuna is over, all he'll have left are sour memories.

He won't let Itadori do this to him, not when Megumi was the one who put him through this.

So why, even when he was hostile and visibly defensive, did Itadori still hold his hand and smile as if that was a silly question asked by a small child?

“Because I always take care of my friends, Fushiguro.” Itadori's eyes widened comically and his mouth dropped. “Is that a problem for you?”

Friends?

Megumi blinked, confused and a little incredulous. What was the damn logic behind Itadori's thoughts?

"What?"

“I know we don't know each other well, but I consider you one. I think near-death experiences do that.” Itadori responds genuinely. There's a crease in his forehead as he furrows his brows, seeming to contemplate that thought. His hand retreats after finishing the band-aid and Megumi tries not to miss the warmth of his fingers on his normally cold skin. "But if you're not on the same page, I understand."

"It's not that." Again the words leap out of him. "It's just... I never..."

I had someone to cook and heal wounds.

I had someone who cared besides Tsumiki.

I had a friend.

Even though Megumi knows he didn't say any of those things out loud, the soft look Itadori gives him shows that it wasn't accurate. He understands.

“Good, then I guess I can be first.” There's no pity, shame, or compassion when Itadori says this to him, just a softness and appreciative contemplation, as if knowing something new is a personal gain. “How about it, Fushiguro? Are we going to be roommates and friends?”

Megumi doesn't understand what's going on.

He doesn't understand Itadori.

It's frustrating.

Before he can offer a response, said boy backs away with wide eyes and a new urgency on his face.

"Oh no! I forgot the meatballs!” Itadori exclaims loudly, turning his back on Megumi. There's comic desperation as he adds, "Kugisaki will kill and use his nails to nail my coffin if I burn this!"

And, while Itadori fiddles with the pots and comments trivial things about the importance of being always careful with food, Megumi looks at the bandage on his fingers, memorizing the simple and tiny drawings of tigers under a blue background – it was probably bought by Gojo as a kind of a silly joke – and thinks maybe it's not so bad to have that kind of bandage under that kind of wound.

He'll think about what that means later.

_

There's no later when Sukuna rips Itadori's heart out and throws it away, a red smile coloring his teeth, as Megumi stares at the scene with cold horror coursing through his insides.

[obsesssedblerd]

JJK fic / drabbles / thought dumps masterlist

welcome! anything jujutsu kaisen related that i post will be here. 💕

note: as this list continues to grow as i post more writing, pls remember that anything with a "🔞" has smut, and minors shouldn't interact with it. also, consider anything without a description to be super short lol.

happy reading! 💕

---

GOJO

Filling the Empty Spaces - you and your husband Satoru's house is too big, but luckily, you have the first years to fill it up. [First part of the au where the first years get adopted]

life after adopting the first years hcs

When Five Becomes Six [coming soon] - you bring your daughter, Riko, into the world, and your adopted kids reassure an anxious Satoru that he won't be the only one protecting her.

Birthday Wishes - It's Satoru's birthday, and while you and Riko accompany him on a scavenger hunt, Yuuji is in charge of planning the best party ever.

Wanting you, but constantly getting interrupted 🔞

Gojo with his mini

Returning to you after the battle(?)

"Shut me up." - There's only one bed, and you're stuck with the most infuriating person you've ever worked with.

bringing the baby to school

Interrogation Method - Satoru Gojo is trying to find Suguru Geto, and you, a curse-user he captured, knows where he is. He'll get you to talk.

stealing the christmas cookies

wearing lingerie for him

clan leader satoru

first touch without infinity

GETO

Dirty little secret 🔞 [pt. 2]

making fun of his size 🔞

switching into dad mode

smooth talker 🔞

"jealous" suguru

"oh, she went missing?"

NANAMI

nanami as your boyriend

secret child

Christmas Wedding

flashbacks from malaysia 🔞

CHOSO

Roommate Choso

big brother things

quiet weekends

asking yuki for advice

TOJI

"Who's your new teacher?" - [ongoing] Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher, and immediately develops a crush. [pt. 2], [pt.3], [pt.4]

"I think our son's crush is Spider-Man."

"Let me have you." - After making a mistake during a mission together, you and Toji Fushiguro have to hide in a cramped closet.

megumi getting you and toji back together

school fights

animal onesies

SUKUNA

Uncle Sukuna

The King of Curses and his daughter - [ongoing] Multiple drabbles about Ryomen Sukuna being a good father to his baby daughter

the day she arrives

early mornings

picky eater

be back soon

first steps

snow day

flowers

sukuna's kisses 🔞

meeting teacher sukuna hcs

SATOSUGU X READER

dating satoru and suguru

dating satoru and suguru hcs (pt. 2)

Fifteen More Minutes

Saying Goodbye

calling satoru "pretty boy"

asking satoru to kill a roach

seeing satoru for the first time in 10 years

tipsy satoru 🔞

surprise adopting at the same time

ITAFUSHI

first day at a new school

aftermath of the battle

MULTIPLE X READER

asking them to kill a spider

being the jjk villains' favorite 🔞

who they'd be for (pt 1)

[megumiluvv]

Masterlist

Brother's Babysitter AU Trouble Masterlist

Fluff

Yuji adores you

Babygumi threw up on Toji's shirt

Toji spends three days with Babygumi

Megumi loves sleeping with you

Sukuna doesn't love you (yes he does)

Nanami's tie won't tie

Megumi’s birthday!

Smaus

“How are your boobs?”

When They Find Your Sketchbook (req)

“Bring pads.” (req)

Angst and hurt/comfort

Megumi feels bad (268 spoilers)

Itafushi (somewhat spoilers)

Shoko is reminiscent

Mourning (yuji & nanami)

Smut

Silent Treatment (sub!Suguru Geto)

Challenge (Takuma Ino)

After Work (Takuma Ino)

Waking Ino Up

Ftm!Ino

Ino-Nanami Threesome

Dad's Best Friend (Kento Nanami)

Making You A Mommy (Choso Kamo)

Stress Relief (sub!Choso Kamo)

Sleepy Sex w/ Choso

Strongest Sorcerer Virgin (Satoru Gojo)

Big Brother!Choso

Car (TojiShiu)

Happy Birthday Gojo

Dry humping-turned-backshots (Suguru Geto)

Ino Drabble :3

Study Session (Aoi Todo)

(Psst! If you are able, help these people out!!)

[redtsundere-writes]

ONE-SHOTS

Pillow | Cult Leader!Suguru Geto (+18. MDNI)

Dick or Treat | Sukuna Ryomen (+18. MDNI)

Favorite Client | Nanami Kento

Proud | Toji Fushiguro (+18. MDNI)

First Time | Megumi Fushiguro

Ride or Die | Ryomen Brothers (+18. MDNI)

Last Time | Nanami Kento (+18. MDNI)

OnlyFans | Toji Fushiguro (+18. MDNI)

Masiosare | Sukuna x Uraume (English)

Masiosare | Sukuna x Uraume (Español)

Ear Cleaning | Sukuna Ryomen

Ribs | Sukuna Ryomen

Blood Bath | Sukuna Ryomen

Eyes on Me | Sukuna Ryomen

A challenge drabble | Ino Takuma

Off Limits | Gojo Satoru

Temptating | Hiromi Higuruma

First Day | ItaFushi

Gifts | Sukuna Ryomen

SERIES

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen | 15 Chapters (FINISHED)

Tyrant's Favorite | Sukuna Ryomen | 39 Chapters (ON GOING)

IMAGINES

Sukuna Is The Type Of Dad

Nanami Is The Type Of Dad

Choso Is The Type Of Dad