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apparently this is a challenge so I did it with true form Sukuna w/ normal amount of limbs because modern / gym AUs enhances my mental stability

(I'll just call this version "true gains Sukuna" or something, that's shorter)

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Tastes awful.

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i’m strange but friendly so people tell me things

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“how many guys do you have on your roster, huh?”

“including you? four.”

“i’m gonna have you cummin’ on my cock, screamin’ my name and we’ll see if you still want those guys after the fourth time.”

#going crazy

[lolokouhm]

No guillotine could take away the head I'd give this man

#respectful repost

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the sluttiest waist in the jjk universe

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social media has really warped our perception of creativity and hobbies. Stop doing things to post them. Just write. Just journal. Just sketch. Just read. Just annotate. Just sing. Just crochet. Just do the thing you’re going to do with the assumption no one will ever see or know you did it. Stop performing. Just enjoy it.

[lolokouhm]

Ew. Toji x f!reader. Unprotected sex, public sex, alcohol. Lord have mercy. Mdni.

The night air is frigid, but Toji's hands on your skin are burning hot. It doesn't feel like it ought to be possible, but you're sweating– from the hours of dancing, the obscene number of drinks you've slammed down at the bar, the exertion from your bathroom tryst just moments before you were caught and thrown out of the venue.

He's got you backed against a brick wall in the alley behind the club now, and his teeth sink into your neck while you lift your legs around his waist. And even though you've had him already, you want him again. You can't get enough.

You work your hands in between your body and his, fumbling with the button of his jeans, and he laughs, breathless; a hot, whiskey-infused exhale on your ear. "Easy, sweetheart. Don't wanna get caught again, do ya?"

His words only make you work harder. "Don't fucking care," you  growl, desperate and needy. You arch your back and pull yourself closer, pulling fistfulls of his hair to expose his neck for your tongue. Toji groans– low and primal– and gives in when he feels the zipper on his pants release. Your eager hand pumps him once, twice, before you flip your skirt up. Impatient fingers hook into your soaking wet panties and yank them away, and before you can draw a full breath, he slams into you with all the force he can muster. His knees threaten to buckle and he stumbles slightly when he feels your cunt clamp down around him, but he regains his balance and sets a rhythm. He knows his fingers are leaving pretty purple bruises in your ass cheeks, and he's filled with pride. 

It's a habit, these late night meetings. The drinks, shared cigarettes, stolen moments and mind blowing sex. You're not in love- ask either of you, and you'll roll your eyes and scoff. "Don't be fucking stupid." Neither of you are the commitment type, but for some reason, you find yourselves drawn to each other over and over again. It's purely physical, at least that's what you tell yourself when the sex gets a little too emotional. "That dick is good, baby, isn't it?" he teases, even as you drag your nails down his back and tears drip from your chin to the crown of his head. 

Love is a four letter word. Love isn't what you feel for him when he's pounding into you with relentless speed, leaving you sobbing into his hair and begging him for more. Love is for someone more gentle, more soft and kind and understanding. Love is holding hands and soft kisses, buying each other cute gifts just because and having dinner together somewhere that isn't a fast food sober-up meal in the front seat of his car while watching the sunrise over the city.

You're coming, and he's not far behind. Your back has been scraped raw against the brick, but you can't be bothered to feel pain when it feels like his cock is in your throat. He lifts your chin and shoves his tongue in your mouth, cursing about how good you're taking him. When he comes, he loses his balance and braces himself against the building, palms splayed flat on either side of your head.

You breathe together as you come down, panting heavily, bodies slumped together. You find your footing and slide down off of him, combined fluids dripping down the inside of your thighs. He pushes your hair away from your forehead and gives you a crooked grin, and you quirks a brow on response. 

"The hell are you looking at?" you quip, pushing your breasts back into place inside your bra. 

"What, I'm not allowed to look at you now?"

"Psh. Not like that." Your heart feels funny. You avoid his gaze and adjust your shoe, then nudge him in the stomach as he fastens his pants. "C'mon. I wanna go home."

He's still staring as he lights a cigarette and takes a drag. You roll your eyes. "Let's go, idiot! It's fucking cold out here. Why do you keep staring at me? Do I have something on my face?" You scrub your cheek and frown, inspecting your palm for evidence.

"Because I looooove you," Toji says, then watches your face closely for a reaction.

You frown at first, then grab his cigarette to buy yourself some time. You exhale into the dimly lit alley and start walking. "No you don't. Fuck you." 

He laughs, watches you walk for a couple seconds, then sprints after you. "Just checking," he says.

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yeah i couldn’t be trusted with a penis id get hard from the way the sun shines through the leaves and everyone would hate me

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Jujutsu Kaisen 2nd Season - 15

#HE CAME BACK WITH THE MILKKKK

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Who is that? A ghost.

JUJUTSU KAISEN / 呪術廻戦 Fluctuations, Part 2, "揺蕩-弐-"

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PRETTY PLEASE? pt.I

Out of all humans walking on this Earth, Satoru Gojo might be the most impatient one.

The clock seems to have stopped the moment you walked out of his apartment, and despite his efforts to make the time flow at least a tiny bit faster, he’s miserable. That’s not how the night was supposed to go - he had plans, and one thing about Satoru is that he hates when his plans end up in ruin. This time though, there is only one person he can blame, and that is himself. It’s not your fault that when you were telling him about the girls’ night you had planned weeks ago with your besties, he was dozing off, playing with those tiny buttons on your favourite shirt. He couldn’t help himself - there was something so mesmerising about the act, and Satoru got invested.

He’d very much prefer to get invested in anything involving you than to sit alone in his apartment, waiting for you to call. At least you asked him to pick you up after you’re done - otherwise, he’d be sulking for weeks. He’s sulking now, laying on the bed, frustrated and alone, scrolling through every possible social media you use. At least there’s a tiny chance he’ll get a glimpse inside of the party you’re at, right? Wrong. You seem to be doing that on purpose, as there’s no new content for him to indulge in and sulk over even more. Satoru knows you’re the type of person who loves to overshare on the internet, so the current silence is quite suspicious. He’s trying his best not stress over it, as he swore he wouldn’t text and call, but his inner demon is really starting to sweat over it. He sighs. It’s so frustrating. Your relationship is a rather fresh subject and there were some areas of it that you haven’t really explored, but he was more than ready to do it tonight. To set the record straight - and after weeks of dating, movie nights and cook-offs in your apartment to officially ask you to become his girlfriend. 

The thought of his perfect night with you yet again pops in his head as he drops the phone on the bed, trying to shake the uneasiness. In normal circumstances, he’d have you wrapped around his finger after a week, throw a random sentence that would suggest you’re a couple from now on and be done, but when it comes to you, nothing seems normal. Not his heart rate. Not his sex drive. Not his thoughts. If love’s a war, then he’s not the brightest soldier on the battlefield - it seems like everything about him is ruthlessly occupied by you.

Even his speed. It’s abnormal, how fast he’s picking the phone up when a notification from you finally appears on his screen. Satoru rushes to his car, excitement filling up his entire being to the point where the speed limits become relatively unimportant - even if he gets a fine, he would have more than enough to pay for that. There’s only one thing that’s priceless, and that is, time. To be exact - time with you, which he has a severe shortage of, no matter for how many hours he’s blessed to be in you presence. Even infinity seems like not enough.

His sufferings have finally come to an end, as Satoru has already parked in your bestie’s driveway. He takes out his phone and texts you „I’M HEREEE” with a million of random emojis, and then slowly leans his head on the cold window glass. From the pieces of information he’s managed to pull out from the darkest places of his memory, it seems like these girls’ nights are an annual thing that happen when one of your closest friends comes back to the city once in a while - she’s been studying overseas for the past few years, but your girlfriends and you are very serious about friendship and do everything in your power to keep it alive and kicking. The effort you put in the relationship pays off - you always have your girls to talk to, vent and cry, and they have you. He grins unconsciously. Another thing Satoru loves about you. You’re just such a sweetheart.  

He observes the entrance, waiting for you to finally come out. It’s past 1 a.m and the whole neighbourhood seems to be sleeping. Satoru rolls the windows down a bit and as the freezing, but nicely refreshing air hits him, his eyes light up when he picks up a faint sound of your voice coming from the house. And then, just moments later, the doors open wide and a familiar shape emerges. Satoru instinctively fixes himself on the seat and brings both of his hands on the wheel, just to tighten his grip on them as you slowly come out from the shadows. He finally can see you, in your whole glory, when the light coming from one of the reflectors catches your frame.

You are so fucking cute.

Satoru’s smile grows bigger and bigger until it almost doesn’t fit his face. Cute is a perfect word to describe your whole being - incredibly wholesome, bright, at the same time dumb in some ways and extremely knowledgeable in the others. And tonight, Gojo Satoru is set on making you officially his. 

He’s ready to go out and open the passenger’s door for you, but you’re faster, even though your legs feel slightly wobbly as you almost sprint to his car, determined to run away from autumn cold. You grip the handle and suddenly you’re welcomed by cozy warmth and Satoru’s overwhelming scent. 

„Toru!”, you exclaim, basically throwing yourself into his open arms, giggling non-stop. The white-haired man in the driver’s seat grabs you instantly, hugging you tightly in his arms and you hide your face in his torso. You’re home.

He’s home.

„Hi, princess. I missed you so, sooo much”, he coos, not really paying attention to the fact that your body twisted in this awkward position may be activating some car options that he has no idea exist. You fit into his frame perfectly and that’s all that matters. 

„Toooru”, you purr into his hoodie, words barely audible. He raises his hands from your waist to cup you chin and kiss you, but you’re faster - you sit up properly, making a place for yourself right on his lap. You slowly raise your head and then - Satoru notices. Your flushed cheeks. Your shiny eyes. Your adorable smile.

And then you drop it.

„Toru, I need you to fuck me. Please?” 

masterlist ❤️

this will get a part two, it's just been sitting in my drafts for so long I had to post it haha based on a drabble I wrote some time ago. prepare for subby gojo I guess

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen gojo

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Imagine Megumi being a kitsune and he finds love with a shrine maiden! Reader who previously took care of him when he was in fox form? Feel free to make this fluffy or smut, idk.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, whose heart and soul break into a million pieces after the tragic death of his beloved goddess.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who leaves the shrine and wanders for 300 years in his fox form, killing, destroying and toying with human lives, trying to forget about his own, burning pain - without any success. he cannot comprehend it - why would she give her life for these worthless creatures? his rampage goes on, and as his soul gets ripped to shreds with every kill, he's finally left with nothing, but an overwhelming emptiness and complete disregard for every life, including his own.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who gets outsmarted for the first time in his lifetime by no other, than a mere human. it's a stupid trap - a trick he shouldn't have fallen for. maybe he's just tired. maybe he just doesn't care anymore. maybe he wants to die.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who didn't expect that the one who would bring the death to him would have such delicate hands. even though he is barely conscious when your fingers graze over his bristling fur, Megumi is still able to hear your rapid heartbeat and feel your warmth when you scoop his limp body into your arms and press it tightly to your chest - if he had just a little more strength, he'd gladly open his eyes to see what kind of creature is that soft, but his eyelids are simply too heavy.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who is more than surprised when he wakes up in the morning and finds out that, apparently, he's not dead yet. what's even more surprising - he's not alone. and when you open your mouth and say how relieved you are that he woke up, he finally gets it. he almost laughs at how perverse fate can be, looking at your pure smile and traditional outfit. you are a shrine maiden, and, judging by the looks of the room he's in, he's at a shrine. again.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi who is still recovering, but the wounds don't heal well at all, despite your best efforts. you don't give up though - you feed him (even though he doesn't really eat at first), apply the ointment to his wounds and talk to him, even when he pretends he's asleep. at first, he finds it incredibly irritating, but as you babble and ramble about the life in the shrine for days, even weeks, Megumi starts to grow fond of your stories.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who's gone when you enter the room after a few weeks. right before you start to panic, a ridiculously handsome, dark-haired young man enters the room, dressed in neat, traditional robes and just one look into his eyes is enough to know who he is. you stare at Megumi, standing right in front of you, in his human form, arms crossed, as a soft, quiet "thank you" leaves his lips, and your cheeks burn brighter than ever when his cold, immense gaze falls on your face.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who finally talks to you, and even though your conversations still mostly consist of you saying some shit and him listening to it, they feel... good. there's a warmth to you he felt when you held him for the first time and Megumi still feels it - and finds it incredibly captivating.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who finds himself making a contract with the deity of the shrine, just to be able to stay close to you. it seems like the warmth is contagious, because as the time goes, he starts to feel it not only when you're by his side, but also when he simply thinks of you - and that's a very dangerous territory. a territory that comes with overwhelming guilt for his past actions.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who gets more curious about you in the next months, spends more time with you and wants to get closer to you - to the point it physically hurts. he knows your touch - you've touched him countless times, but for some reason, he longs for it in this form, in the human one. he'd sometimes walk past you in the gardens and play with a strand of your hair, just to get this little, cute giggle out of you - a sound so heavenly, it drives him insane. but that's all he can do. he simply cannot let himself stain you - after all, you're pure. so pure, and he's just filthy. the feeling grows and grows - until he cannot stand it anymore.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who just confesses to you. right in the middle of the night, under the moonlight, sitting on a wooden bench. With shaking hands and trembling voice, Megumi tells you all about the past, his past, and he cannot even look at you - he just doesn't want to see the disgust and the hatred in your eyes. no, he cannot see that - that would be too much to bear, a price he's not prepared to pay, at least not now. before he knows it, he cannot see anything at all, as the guilt and the pain he couldn't get rid of crawls out of him - and he cries. the tears fall down his beautiful face, more and more of them, and even though the feeling is weirdly relieving itself, the true purification comes in form of your warm hands on his cheeks.

thinking about Kitsune!Megumi, who spends the night in your arms, confessing not only his crimes, but also his feelings - and just before the exhaustion worth of 300 years of pain gets the best of him, he can feel your lips on his forehead, as light as a feather and hotter than fire. you don't hate him. you couldn't hate him. and by the time he falls asleep, you make sure he knows that.

thinking about the shrine's deity, who's more than content to see the reincarnation of her best friend find her way back to the one she loved. and even though love is the most twisted curse of all, it still is an incredibly beautiful one, isn't it?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiguro #jjk megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jujutsu megumi #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk imagines #jjk drabble #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #kitsune megumi

[lolokouhm]

This whole AU series is one of the most wholesome things I’ve read 😭

Now Loading...

Starring: Frat boy! Sukuna and a (possibly) pregnant reader

Synopsis: Funny how something as small as a grain of rice can cause a shift so massive in so many lives. Deny all he wants, you're having a baby and now Ryomen has to comes to terms with being a young dad. While it can be read on it's own, this is also part of the Frat Boy Au, which you can read here!

Content Warnings: a pregnancy scare, other than that, it's mostly fluff ;)

(Also, if yall want a song to go with the fic: New Mistakes by Jellyfish inspired it)

You had experienced time slowing down before. It slowed down as you walked across the stage for your high school graduation. It had slowed down again when you got your acceptance letter to college. It slowed down the first time you saw your now boyfriend, and when you met his mom for the first time. But it had never been slower than it was now, as you sat on your bed, staring at the Clearblue pregnancy test in your hand.

“Well, what’s it say?!” You roommate, Mei Mei, asked- arguably more nervous than you were. She knew Ryomen was bad news, but she didn’t think he was this fucking bad. She moved to try and take the test from your hand, only for Shoko to slap her shoulder.

“Stop making a bad situation worse Mei.” Shoko growled, irritated from not being able to light a cigarette during this high stress situation.

“Two lines…” You mumbled, not looking up from the stick, “Two lines, what does two lines mean!?” Their expressions told you everything you needed to know. Panic filled you as you dropped the test and grabbed a pillow to scream into. God, how could you have let this happen?! Your period was only a few days late, you had taken the test mostly to put Mei Mei at ease. You didn’t know if you were happy you took it or not anymore.

“It’s okay Y/n, we’ll figure this out.” Shoko sighed as she rubbed your back, failing to hide the disappointment in her voice.

“How am I supposed to tell him?!” You panicked as you ripped your head up from the pillow, “How do you tell someone you ruined there life?!”

“You ruined his life?!” Mei Mei scoffed in disbelief at the assertion, “You should be asking him how the hell he plans to make this up to you! He ruined your life!”

“Nobody's life is ruined!” Shoko snapped at the both of you. “It’s a baby not cancer, Jesus fucking Christ. And it’s not like you don’t have options. You’re the one in control here Y/n, whatever you want to happen will happen.” She said, motherly assurance uncharacteristically thick in her tone. It did make you feel a little bit better about the situation. You weren’t absolutely powerless here.

And it wasn’t like you were against being a mother. Quite the contrary, you liked the idea. Of course, you never thought it would be this soon in your life, but…the universe had a funny way of handling things. And if you were going to have a baby, you didn’t think you could have picked a better guy than Ryomen. He was loving, and kind, not to mention the fact he was guaranteed a good job out of college. But, you also knew that he was beyond nervous about being a dad one day, terrified by the notion of becoming his own father.

“I need to talk to Ryomen.” You sighed. 

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“Dude, In what world does a theoretical physicist need to know about the themes of The Metamorphosis, so a dude becomes a bug, so wh-”

“Hey, shut up Y/n just texted me.” Ryomen cut Satoru off as he checked his phone, the buzzing alerting him to a notification. They were sitting next to each other on the couch, venting about classes they hated. Sugruru was sitting on the arm of the couch closest to Satoru, and Nanami taking up an entire love seat across from them as he played on his own phone. It was a relief to have an excuse to end this conversation really. Ryomen did not have it in him to try and listen to his frat brother straight up misunderstand classic literature for the millionth time.

“And you couldn’t wait to answer it until I finished my sen-”

“No, Y/n texted.” Ryomen said without looking up from his phone, but trusting his tone got across his annoyance. Satoru knew you took precedence, Ryomen didn't know why he was acting like you didn’t all of the sudden.

“And she couldn't wait for two-”

“Are you still talking?” Ryomen snapped. Satoru let out an irritated grumble, frustrated he couldn’t go on his (ill informed) rant about how classic American literature, and literature in general, was useless. “Y/n wants to come over.” Ryomen informed his frat brothers. “Like, now.”

“What’s up with Y/n?” Suguru asked from his spot on the arm of couch, deciding it was safe to enter the conversation now that there was no hope of Satoru going on his rant.

“No clue, she just says we need to talk.” He grumbled softly as he typed on his phone. It wasn’t like you to be this cagey about anything, and he would be lying if he said it didn’t concern him at least a little.

“Dude, shes gonna break up with you.” Satoru's mouth moved faster than his brain did, and for it he got a swift elbow to the stomach. 

“No she’s not.” Ryomen hissed. “She just wants to talk.”

“It’s probably to make plans for fall break, I wouldn’t worry too much about it.” Nanami said, quickly getting irritated with all the arguing. 

“Yeah, the dorms close in, what, like two weeks?” Suguru confirmed, “She’s probably gonna ask to stay with your family so she doesn't have to fly back to her own.”

“You’re probably right.” Ryomen took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. That made sense. You got along great with his mom and brother, and your own family basically not at all. It tracked that you would rather drive a few hours and spend a week with people you liked than fly out to people you didn’t. Yeah, that made sense. Yeah.

So why did he still feel so anxious?

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Ryomen had never been more convinced that you were going to leave him than he was now. As you sat across from him on the bed, starring at your fidgeting hands as if they held the secrets to the universe. Something was palpably wrong, he could feel it hanging in a thick veil between the two of you. He didn’t know if he should reach beyond it to hold you, or give you your space and let you come to him. He settled on nervously picking at his nails.

“So, uh, you wanted to talk?” He asked.

“Yeah, I, uh..I’m just trying to think of how to say this.” You muttered. He felt the color drain from his life when you said that. What did he do? Was it about Amy- or whatever the fuck her name was? That was a month ago now, surly it wasn’t that. Was it someone else? That thought made Ryomen realize that actually, he was capable of murder. 

He could feel his jaw clench at the thought of you with another man, white hot rage filling his hands and emotions while images of you with a stranger flashed in his head against his will. What the fuck did that asshole have that he didn’t? What made them think they were worthy of your smile, of your laugh, of you? Who did they think they were?

“Ryomen, I’m pregnant.”

“He’ll never love you like I do.” There was a thick silence of a different variety as they two of you spoke over each other, both of you trying to process what the other said.

“A-are you saying the…baby won’t love me?” You weren’t offended, you were just confused.

“You’re fucking pregnant?” Ryomen could feel his entire world shifting in real time. Thank god you weren’t leaving, but…Pregnant?

“Yeah, that’s what I said, what did You say?” You questioned again, trying to figure out where the fuck that came from. Of all the things you expected him to say, it wasn’t whatever he said.

“It doesn’t really matter what I said, forget I said anything, how long have you known?” He asked, finally pushing past the veil to wrap his arms around you. 

“Like…maybe thirty minuets?” You sighed, rubbing your face as the stress came back. “My period was a week late, so…I took a test, and well…Baby.” You still weren’t sure this was all real.

Ryomen felt the world freeze around him as reality took hold. A dad? He couldn’t be a fucking dad. He was in his fucking twenties, he still had two years left until he graduated, he couldn’t be a dad yet! He thought about his own father, who buckled under the pressure and ran off the moment things got hard. What if he inherited that kind of cowardice? Hell, he didn’t even have the spine to tell his dad to fuck off when he came back in his life after eleven years of radio silence just to completely take control of his future, how the fuck was he supposed to raise a child?!

“Babygirl, that’s amazing!” He smiled, pulling you into his lap and kissing your forehead, “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

“You think so?” You whispered, taking some comfort in his confidence, It eased your own fear about the uncertain future. 

“Of course I do.” He assured you with the grin that got you into this mess in the first place. Ryomen was fucking petrified of what came next, and he could tell you were too. To him, easing your fear was the most important thing. He could have his own freak out later, right now he needed to be here for you. 

And his words did the trick. Slowly you could feel the tension melting from your shoulders as it settled in that he wasn’t mad, and you weren’t in this alone. “God, I was so scared you where going to leave.” You confessed, feeling the tears pool in the corner of your eyes. His arms tightened around you, holding you like he feared you might be the one to run.

“I’m not going anywhere Babygirl, I promise,” He swore to you, kissing the top of your head, “Wherever you are, that’s were I’ll be. Right next to you and our baby.” His smile was so reassuring, for a second, you actually felt hopeful for the future. He pulled your face to his, and you melted into his kiss.

Ryomen laid with you in his bed, cuddling and talking softly until you finally passed out. He insisted on you staying the night with him, if for no other reason than he found comfort in having you near. He waited until he knew you were in a deep sleep, breathing softly and steadily. He kissed your cheek before he slipped out of bed, into the kitchen for a beer, then out to the balcony to drink it. He was leaning against the old wooden railing, running a hand through his hair as he tried to visualize what his future would look like now.

“So a baby, huh?” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Suguru's voice.

“Jesus fucking Christ, a warning Geto!” He hissed as he took a drink of the cheap beer, giving Suguru the side eye as he leaned next to him.

“Sorry, I’ll make sure to yell at the top of my lungs everywhere I go from now on.” Suguru chuckled softly.

“How do you know we’re having a baby?” Suguru grimaced a little at the pink haired mans question, knowing he got the information through unethical means.

“Satoru listened in on yours and Y/n conversation.” He said as if his ear wasn’t pressed up against the door too, “Sorry.”

“Mmm.” Ryomen groaned, not wanting to accept the apology, but acknowledging it none the less.

“So…whats the plan?” Suguru asked the question no one really wanted to ask, but everyone wanted the answer to.

“The plan is I’m going to be a dad, I guess.” Ryomen grumbled, not really use to the idea yet. He took another drink.

“Well, in that case, congratulations then!” Suguru smiled, taking the cheap beer from Ryomen’s hand and lifting it up, “To the new dad! You’ll do great.” He said as he took a drink.

“Gee, thanks you’re too kind.” Ryomen scoffed.

“Hey man, I’m serious.” Suguru insisted, “I think you’ll be a great dad, if for no other reason than cause your dad sucked. You have the perfect example of what not to do.”

“No I don’t.” Ryomen argued, stress edging into his tone against his will, “My dad wasn’t even there to show me what to not do, he was fucking gone! I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do!” His panic was getting the better of him. He took his beer back and took another drink.

“No one does.” Suguru chuckled, still as calm as ever. “You think this shit comes with a manual? No parent in the long history of parenting has ever known what they were doing. But, you’re worried about it. You’re worried about being a good dad. And that’s further than any shitty parent gets. Probably further than you’re dad got. It shows you care man. And besides, you’ll have Y/n with you. She’s going to be a fantastic mom. If shes got the patience to deal with us, a toddler will be a breeze.”

“I don’t know man. What if…what if I am just like my dad?” Ryomen muttered. He looked just like him. He was going to take over his business. Hell, after his dad forced him to be a business major, Ryomen even changed his last name back to his fathers. It made sense at the time, a Sukuna should be the one to take over the Sukuna family business. But, now? Now that he had to pass that last name on? He wasn’t sure he wanted it. “What if it’s just…in my blood to be my dad?”

Suguru actually laughed at that, hard enough to embarrass the man next to him. “Ryomen, being a shitty person is not genetic I assure you. If it was, Nanami would be a lot more insufferable. It’s not up to our parents to decide who we are as people, that for us to decide and us alone. You’re not your DNA sequencing, you’re the actions that you take and the choices that you make. Your father has no control over that.”

“I mean…yeah. I guess you’re right.” Ryomen muttered, taking another drink before handing the bottle back to Suguru. As cliche as it may have been to say, he was starting to feel better. Maybe he wasn't doomed to be his father. Maybe the Sukuna name wasn’t a death sentence.

“Of course I’m right.” Suguru grinned as he finished off the beer. “So what are you going to do now?” He asked.

“Now?” Ryomen sighed, “Now I need to go talk to my mom.”

🍼🍼🍼

It was a week before Ryomen found the time to make the drive home. A week that he spent attached to your hip. A week making sure you didn’t have to lift up a single thing, a week of threatening anyone who dared smoke around you, and a week of coming to terms with his new future. The two of you had spent the time researching doctors, and on baby forums looking for advice. He was relieved to admit, he kinda became fond of the idea of having a little baby running around. 

He started to imagine what they would look like, what they would sound like, and what their favorite color would be. Money wouldn’t be an issue once he took over Malevolent Shrine International, so he wasn’t worried about that. Honestly, you wouldn't have to work if you didn’t want to, and if you did want to he could afford child care. The two- No. The three of you were going to be okay. He hoped it would be only three.

He knocked on the door of his childhood home, having forgot his key and not being willing to go all the way back for it. Much to his dismay, Yuji answered the door. 

“Sorry, sign says no solicitors.” He said, quickly trying to close the door. Ryomen was fast to push against him, trying to get his body through the crack in the entry. 

“Open the door brat or I’m going to wipe your hard drive.” Ryomen threatened,

“College hasn’t changed you one bit, has it?” Yuji scoffed, sticking his tongue out at his brother. 

“It’s made me more prone to violence, wanna see?” Ryomen growled as he pushed against the door harder. Yuji stood firm though, an immovable object to Ryomen’s unstoppable force. 

“I’m going to tell Y/n you said that!” It was Yuji’s turn to threaten, “I’m also going to tell her that you beat me up! And you’re mean! And that you kick kittens!”

“Why you little-” Ryomen finally got his arm through the small space, almost getting a hand on his little brother before his mothers voice brought the entire show to a halt.

“Are you two Trying to break my door?!” She sounded exasperated, “Yuji, let your brother in!” The moment their mother got involved the boys remembered how to act, with Yuji calmly opening the door and Ryomen walking in like he wasn’t just trying to strangle his little sibling. 

“Hi Mom.” He said, smiling warmly as she came up and hugged him.

“Hi Honey,” She said, giving him a soft pat on the cheek. “Wheres Y/n? I made coffee.”

“She had a test today, she couldn’t make it.” He said. That was a lie. You were completely free, but, he didn't want you here for this conversation.

“Mmm, you know your ears turn red when you lie, right?” His mom laughed as she walked to the kitchen. He followed her with a roll of his eyes, sitting at the kitchen table.

“She was busy, alright?” He defended himself as his mom put a coffee cup in front of him, sitting across from him with her own.

“Sure. So what did you need to talk about sweetie?” She asked. Ryomen took a moment to really study his mom. She didn’t look so different from how he remembered her in his childhood. A few more wrinkles, a lot more gray hair, but still his mother none the less. He wondered how she felt when she realized she was having a baby.

“So, um…Y/n is…” He couldn’t make eye contact.

“Ryomen, don’t tell me you got that poor girl pregnant.” She gasped, putting down her mug and looking at him with demanding eyes. 

“Why would you jump to that?!” He tried to deflect.

“Then tell me she’s not.” She said, looking at him with a scowl that dared him to try and lie.

“....She is.” He sighed, taking a drink from his coffee to get away from her disappointed gaze.

“Sweet Jesus...” His mom sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her forehead. Then she laughed a little, shaking her head with a soft smile she tried to hide behind her coffee cup.

“What?” He asked. She shook her head again.

“Nothing just…well, I guess I was around your age when I had you. A little younger. You can’t really be mad at the apple for not falling too far from the tree now, can you?” She chuckled softly, and it put Ryomen at ease. So she wasn’t going to eviscerate him. Good. 

“Yeah, well…Gotta honor some family traditions, am I right?” He tried to joke, only to be quickly shut up by his mothers disapproving glare. 

“So whats your plan big man?” She asked, “You’re not going to leave her alone with this, that’s for damn sure.”

“No mom, I couldn’t even imagine-”

“Good, cause I’ll choose Y/n over you every time.” She teased. 

“I know mom.” He smiled, “Good to know you like her, cause that makes this question a lot easier to ask.”

“Oh?” He really caught her attention now.

“I was wondering, do you know where Grandmas wedding ring is?” He bit his lip as he finally said it out loud. Even before you were pregnant, every time Ryomen imagined his future, it was always with you as his wife. He couldn’t conceive of a life without you by his side, now more so than ever. He was going to make things right, and unlike his own dad, he wasn’t going to wait for the second baby to do it. He knew he was on the right track when he saw his mothers proud smile.

“As a matter of a fact, I think I do. I think I know where some of your old baby clothes are too, hold on.”

🍼🍼🍼

“Ryo!” You smiled as he walked into the entry of the frat house, carrying a walmart bag of old baby clothes. You were down the stairs and in his arms in an instant, laughing happily as you jumped to him. He caught you with a grin, spinning you around before putting you back on the ground.

“I could get used to that.” He teased. You smiled and rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“I’m sure you could. Ryo, I have amazing news, I- wait, what’s in the bag?” You asked as your brain finally registered that there was something in his hand. 

“Oh, yeah!” He smiled excitedly as he put the bag on the coffee table, “Remember how I went to talk to my mom? She says hi by the way, but look! She still had some of mine and Yuji’s old baby clothes!” He said, pulling out a truly precious onesie, covered in stars and a rocket ship, followed by a red, blue, and yellow stripped jumper.

“Oh baby-” You sighed as you realized your good news might actually not be good news.

“I know it’s not a lot, and its all kinda old and used, but it’s a start, you know? Something to bring the baby home in.”  He said, putting the clothes down and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Baby, I’m not pregnant.” You dropped that like a nuke. He blinked at you as he tried to process what you just said.

“Huh?”

“I’m not pregnant Ryomen, I’m sorry. I got my period.” You said, gently cupping his cheek. You did not expect a reaction like this at all. Confusion, sure, but not…disappointment?

“But I thought you took a test?” He asked, trying to catch up to reality.

“I did, but it must have been a false positive. Apparently that’s pretty common with my birth control.”

“Oh…” He wasn’t expecting to feel so upset about this either. Like the entire world he had build up in his mind was gone. He realized he was going to be mourning the death of someone who truly never existed, and felt so ridiculous about it. He didn’t realize he was tearing up until you brushed a tear off his cheek.

“I’m sorry Ryo…but, hey! Look on the bright side, we get to keep our twenties!” You chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. He smiled gently and nodded.

“You’re right it’s just…I don’t know. I kinda liked the idea of starting a family with you.” He confessed softly, an idea that would have made his skin crawl just a little over a year ago. You really did force him to grow up. You laughed a little more sincerely this time, and gave him a quick kiss.

“Sorry Ryo, if you want a family, you’re gonna have to upgrade from the girlfriend package to the wifey bundle.” You teased him. 

“Y/n!” Gojo yelled from up the stairs, “Nanami got tired of waiting for you, he un-paused the game!” You paled as you realized that Nanami was unfairly demolishing you at street fighter.

“Hey! That’s illegal!” You yelled as you ran up the stairs to try and salvage the round. Ryomen watched as you ran away, an unfamiliar fondness growing in his chest. Normally, he would have been unbelievably jealous you were hanging out with his friends- especially without him. Now though? He saw it as a good sign.

“Upgrade, huh?” He muttered, mostly to himself. His hand dropped into his pocket, clutching the ring box there. “Don’t worry Y/n. I plan on it.” He promised as he went up stairs to join you. 

[lolokouhm]

Blessed (2/2) - Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader

SPOILERs for up to ch. 235 - canon complient until then Pairing: Fushiguro Megumi x fem!Reader Genre: angst (Part 1), fluff (Part 2), hurt/comfort Word Count: 7 946 Warnings: death, injury, stitches, blood, pain Summary: Megumi woke up after having been saved by you, but will you recover, too?

Part One

The air smelled of wood and tatami. Megumi groaned slightly as he tried to stretch, feeling the soft blanket and the warm futon engulf him. His limbs felt stiff, like they had done when he had been bedridden for weeks with the flue when he had been thirteen. He grabbed his hands and intertwined the fingers, stretching them above his head, before eventually blinking his eyes open. The room he was in was lit up only by the orange light of a small lamp at the headend of his futon. Beyond the traditional room separations made of washi and wood the darkness of night lingered quietly. The tatami floor filled him with the comforting sense of familiarity. He was back at Jujutsu High, strangely enough the one place he had always felt safe at. Maybe because you had always been there.

A sudden noise at his feet drew his attention to it, and sitting up a little he was met with a sight that let his heart almost stop in his chest. Curled up at the end of his bed, hair dishevelled and one hand resting on Megumi’s ankle as if to make sure he wouldn’t get up unnoticed, lay Gojō.

His snow-white hair seemed to glimmer in the low light of the room. His eyes were closed, white lashes resting on his cheeks, even breaths moving his torso in a slow and steady rhythm. Megumi wondered when Gojō had lost so much weight. His cheeks seemed fallen in, exhaustion was written into his features, even while asleep.

The last time Megumi had seen his teacher and guardian had been before Halloween, before Gojō had been sealed away. And now it was… what day was it? How much time had passed since…

Megumi stopped, memories suddenly flooding back to him. Sukuna taking over his body and killing Tsumiki, the fight in Shinjuku on Christmas Eve against Gojō. And then? What had happened since then? How much time had passed since Christmas? Why was Gojō here, but you weren’t? Had something happened to you? Where were Yūji, Inumaki, Panda and Maki? Had something happened to them?

Slowly, not sure how strong his body was, he propped himself up on his elbow. Gojō looked peaceful, sleeping like this, and Megumi realised that in all the years he had been under the powerful sorcerer’s protection, he had never seen him sleep. Considering how exhausted he looked, Megumi was reluctant to wake him, but he needed answers. Badly. Especially concerning the question of where you were.

But before Megumi could reach out to shake Gojō awake, he stirred, blinking his eyes open. Over the years Megumi had gotten used to the stunning blue of Gojō’s eyes, but now, after all that had happened, after he had thought he had lost the only father figure he had ever had, he felt like all breath was knocked out of him, looking at Gojō with his dishevelled, white hair and those huge blue eyes.

Gojō seemed to take a moment to realise what he saw, as he slowly lifted his head, disbelieve written into his features.

“Megumi-“

No sound left Gojō’s lips, that formed the name of his protégé, and Megumi felt himself shrink under his teacher’s intense gaze, before the white haired man lurched forward and wrapped his arms around his student.

Megumi gasped in surprise as Gojō squeezed him in a hug, hesitantly returning it. Gojō was not the kind of man to hand out hugs just like that. Over the years, Megumi could probably count the times Gojō had hugged him, really hugged him, on one hand.

“I didn’t think you’d wake up,” Gojō breathed, pulling Megumi tighter against himself. “I thought I had lost you.”

Megumi nodded, trying to swallow down all the questions that were burning on his tongue and instead focus on what Gojō had said.

“You got locked away-,” he recalled. “I thought you’d be imprisoned forever.”

A beat of silence passed and all it took was an inhale by Gojō for Megumi to know the emotional reunion was over.

“Aww, did you miss me,” Gojō asked teasingly, pulling away, and causing Megumi to roll his eyes at him.

But then he stopped, looked at his teacher for a moment before he nodded.

“I did,” he admitted, knocking the wind out of Gojō’s sails, whose eyes widened in surprise at the honesty.

He swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling away far enough to sit up normally again.

“How are you feeling,” he asked instead of continuing his intended teasing, his eyes now scanning Megumi carefully.

“Pretty okay, I think,” Megumi answered, “A little stiff, maybe... wait- what happened to Sukuna?”

Gojō took a deep breath, making Megumi fear the worst for a moment. What was the worst? That Sukuna had possessed Yūji again? No, it would be worse if he were to possess you.

“Sukuna’s dead,” Gojō answered, and Megumi was glad that this time his usually annoying and always teasing teacher hadn’t made a big deal out of revealing the answer. “Yūji killed him through (y/n)’s technique.”

Megumi nodded, even though he was not sure what exactly Gojō had tried to say beyond that Sukuna was a problem of the past.

“So, he’s gone?”

“Dead, gone, never gonna possess or kill anybody again,” Gojō confirmed, a soft and relieved smile on his lips.

Megumi could feel the weight off the world fall off his shoulders, and he dropped back into his pillow, looking up at the wood panelled ceiling. Another question rose to his mind, and just as quickly the weight on his chest had disappeared, it increased again. What had happened to you? He was not sure he’d be able to ever get up from this futon if the answer was anything other than that you were fine.

“(Y/n)-“

The silence that followed his single word question made his heart plummet to unknown depths, and he screwed his eyes shut, but the tears welled up regardless. Why had he gone through all of this, all of it, if he could not even protect those he loved? Not only had this war demanded Nobara’s life, but he would have to spend the rest of his days living with the knowledge that his own hands, guided by an ancient evil, had killed his sister. And now the girl he loved, the girl he had thought was the one, the girl he had scolded himself over because you were basically still kids, how could he know you were the one, the girl he had secretly imagined he would marry one day… now you were gone, too?

Had it been summer, the silence would not have been as loud. Cicadas would have sung, and frogs would have quacked in the ponds outside. But in winter the school ground were quiet.

Gojō’s voice broke interrupted the quiet.

“She’s- well, her hear is beating, but she’s unconscious.”

Megumi’s eyes flew open again.

“What happened. Didn’t you say she helped Yūji kill Sukuna?”

Gojō deflated, shuffled his long legs around to sit more comfortably before he continued.

“We don’t know what exactly happened. One moment she allowed Yūji to reach through her to finish of Sukuna, the next she collapsed. Yūji and I are both certain we felt a… a wave of power at the moment of Sukuna’s death, so our best guess is that something happened on a level of their souls the moment Sukuna perished. He released so much energy that it would have torn all of us apart and she used her soul to protect us, you, me and Yuuij. Her soul couldn’t process all of it at once, but she tried absorbing it anyway…”

Gojō’s voice died down at the expression on Megumi’s face. Megumi looked exactly how Gojō imagined he had to feel. Grief, pain, self-reproach, hatred towards Sukuna, despair- all was written in his eyes, as he exhaled and let his head rest heavily into his pillow. Gojō almost expected him to send him away, to demand privacy, but the request did not come.

“Where is she now,” Megumi asked, closing his eyes in an attempt to shut the world with its cruelty out of his mind.

“She was in the hospital wing, but Shoko suggested she should better be in her own room. There isn’t really much she can do at the moment; anyone can do at the moment. If her soul wasn’t destroyed completely, she might recover in time, but there’s no way of knowing if it will work. A normal sorcerer would have died immediately, the only reason she’s still alive is her cursed technique. If she can manage to patch her soul back up-“

“Please-” Megumi’s voice was strained as he interrupted his teacher. “Please stop talking.”

Gojō immediately shut his mouth, his eyes flickering over the boy’s features.

“Do you want to be alone?”

Megumi hesitated for a moment, before he shook his head, keeping his eyes still closed. “No,” he answered truthfully. “I’m scared of where my mind will go when I’m alone.”

“Do you want me to talk to you?”

This time Megumi nodded. “Just not about her,” he asked, and Gojō complied happily.

He told Megumi about how he had been released from the prison realm, about the fight between him and Sukuna. He tried to make it sound funny, but he felt the pain radiate of Megumi, so he went on about his friends. Gojō told Megumi about Yūji, who had spent the whole first day glued to Megumi’s bedside, until Shoko had sent him to bed. It had only been less than 36 hours since the battle had ended. And Gojō told him about Inumaki and Panda, who had kept wake with Gojō since then. He told him about Maki, who had tried reading to them all, and then he told him about anything and everything that came to his mind, about all the things Gojō was looking forward to doing and eating again, now, that the threat of Sukuna was over. And he kept talking long after Megumi had fallen asleep again.

-

When Megumi woke for a second time, Gojō had resumed his position at Megumi’s foot end, curled into a tight ball, but this time with his back to Megumi. There was no clock around, but Megumi had the distinct feeling, dawn was closing in. Nightmares had plagued his sleep, and he was overcome with the sudden urge, like every time he had a nightmare, to seek the comfort of your presence.

How many times had he gotten up at night and walked over to your room just to stand in front of your closed door for half an hour, not having the courage to knock? How fast had his heart beaten when you had eventually caught him one time, and made him swear he would knock in the future? How many times since then had he rapped his knuckles against the thin wood of your dorm door, only to be called in by your sleepy voice and how many times had you beckoned him into bed beside you where he had spent the rest of the night sleeping peacefully?

Throwing another glance at Gojō, Megumi carefully peeled back his blanket, and rolled off the futon. He was dressed in a pair of loose grey sweatpants and an oversized, dark blue sweatshirt. With naked feet, he tapped over to the door, taking a last look at his fast asleep mentor and slipped out of the sliding door. The air in the corridor was cool and smelled of snow. Even though it had been months since he had last walked around the school and there was no light source to guide him, he easily found his way towards your room in the dark building. Halting in his steps, he found himself once again in front of your door, hesitating to knock or even enter. How many hours had he stood like this, shifting his weight from the left to the right and back? Bouncing on his heels, walking a few steps back towards his room, only to turn around and stare at your door again? But this time you would not randomly return from a midnight-snack trip to the kitchen and scold him for hesitating in asking for help. No, you were unconscious, laying in your bed on the other side of the door that separated him from you, and there was no one who knew if you would ever wake up again.

Even though he knew there would be no answer, he lifted his hand to the thin, wooden door and knocked. Silence followed, silence he had expected and still hoped would be interrupted by your voice. He pressed down the handle nonetheless, letting himself into your room, and closed the door behind his back.

Your room was warmer than the corridor, but smelled fresh, as if someone had aired it out just a few minutes ago. Through the glass of the window beside your bed, he could see that outside the sky began growing slightly brighter. White dust – no, snow – covered the small garden in front of your window and the yard beyond. It seemed to have snowed a little since the battle in Shinjuku, and Megumi desperately tried not to think about how today a year ago, on the 26th, you had dragged him around Tokyo to go looking at all the Christmas decorations together. Back then, too, snowflakes had fallen from stormy dark clouds, and had caught in your hat and scarf, had splayed over the dark fabric of your coat like stars in the night sky as you had tucked on Megumi’s sleeve to get him to follow you to the next attraction. You had known each other for just two weeks back then, but Megumi’s mind still had played with the idea what it would be like if this trip had been a date, had even toyed with the idea of asking if this was a date. Now, when his eyes flickered over to the sleeping form in your bed, his heart reacted so differently than it had last year to the touch of your gloved hand on his. Instead of excitedly skipping a beat, it felt like it sunk into the ground.

Your hair was spread over the pillow, the blanket neatly pulled up to the middle of your chest, with your hands resting on it at your sides. You were wearing a long-armed sweatshirt, one that Megumi had gifted to you for Christmas last year. On the first glance it looked like a plain sweatshirt, but on the lower hem and on the arms, small, stitched-on flowers ranked around the seams, reaching a few centimetres up into the fabric. Megumi had seen the sweatshirt on a trip to Shibuya the day before Christmas Eve, and it had made him think of you, so he had bought it spontaneously, even though he had not planned on getting anything for you. You had smiled so brightly and admired the details when you had unwrapped it, that Megumi completely forgot how embarrassed he had been about it at first. The embarrassment returned tenfold though, when you ended up wearing the sweatshirt to the movie nights with all the other students, telling them how Megumi had gifted it to you. And now someone had dressed you in it, as you lay in bed lifelessly, the only sign that you were not dead being the shallow movement of your chest with each breath you took.

Carefully Megumi stepped further into the room. Usually when he had come to your room at such late hour, you had sleepily waved him over to join you in bed. You had always attempted to pull your blanket over him as well, but he had refused. It seemed inappropriate to join you under your blanket when he could not even confess his feelings for you, and he was certain, feeling you sleeping this close beside him would drive him mad. The temptation of wrapping you in his arms, tangling his long legs with your shorter ones, burring his nose against your hair, and inhaling your familiar and calming scent would have been too big. So instead he had always preferred the protective barrier of the blanket between your bodies. Now he wished for nothing more than you to attempt to tuck him in next to you, to feel your arms wrap around him securely and hold yourself close to him.

Feeling like it was not appropriate to join you in bed as he had done so many nights before, he instead grabbed the chair from your desk, and pulled it over next to your bed, sitting down in the dark. He didn’t dare turning on the lights, the little bit of morning grey that fell through the window illuminating enough of your features for him to know that the state you were in was worse than he had seen in his dream. Your cheeks were hollowed out from when you had poured all your energy into healing Megumi through Sukuna. There were cuts and not yet healed bruises all over your face and doubtlessly other parts of your body too. Megumi wondered where those had originated, but the thought that they were a result of Sukuna’s death were not too farfetched. Your skin had a grey hue to it, sickly and dead, and your hair was matt and void of any of the vibrancy Megumi knew. It looked like at one point it had been drenched in sweat but had dried since, single strands of hair sticking together.

Megumi’s eyes wandered to your hand laying on the blanket next to you. Small cuts and lacerations littered your beautiful skin, and even though it had only been less than two days, they already seemed to have started healing. He wondered if you’d be in pain if he were to take your hand in his. If so, would the pain be enough to wake you up? Was it even a good idea to wake you up? Wasn’t it better to wait until you woke up by yourself, when your soul was completely restored, assuming Gojō’s theory was correct? Megumi bit down on his own teeth, and quickly pushed his hands underneath his thighs, sitting on them to resist the urge to take your hand in his.

Beyond the window, in the grey light of the slowly approaching morning, sparrows tweeted in the yard, already up and making a fuzz as they always did. Megumi tore his attention away from your unconscious form, and directed it into the fading night beyond the glass instead. In front of your window was a small garden, conifers cut into bizarre shapes, ferns and different kinds of moss covering the rocks that lined a tiny brook that lead past the students’ dorms into a bigger garden behind the house. Beyond the small strip of carefully curated nature, a plastered yard opened up. Many afternoons he had spent training with you or Maki there.

A smile threatened to tuck at his lips at the memory of both of you facing off, afternoon sun beating down on you, sweat running down the side of his face and catching in the collar of his uniform. Even though you were smaller than him, you were almost equally matched. Unlike in his sparing sessions with Yūji, where Megumi almost always won, the chance to come out on top in a match with you were pretty much 50/50.

Well, not entirely. There was a third option, in which both of you were really equally matched, going on for sometimes hours without neither of you resigning or getting defeated. Those were his favourite sparing sessions with you. When in the end you both would all but collapse on the cobble stones, breathing heavily, and staring at each other for a moment before breaking out in tired laughter and laying on your backs on the hard ground, staring up at the sky with its clouds changing colour from white to yellow and orange to deep red and pink, before they turned blue in the sunset.

Oh, how much Megumi would give to get these times back. Sure, it had not always been easy, it had not always been fun. But you had been there with him, safe and uninjured, and Megumi had bathed in the illusion of having at least a little bit control over his life: when to study, when to eat and sleep, when to train. When to seek you out to hear your beautiful laughter.

Megumi turned back to you. Somehow you looked cold, he thought. As if the air in the room was too cool, giving you a chill.

Quickly he got up and fetched the woolly blanket from your wardrobe, which you had bought so Megumi could have a blanket too, when he was staying over in your room more than twice a week most times, since he always had refused to join you under yours. Working as quietly as possible, Megumi unfolded the blanket and threw it over your sleeping form before he settled down on the chair next to you again.

You still looked cold, but at least now your arms were covered as well, and there was an additional layer keeping you warmer. Megumi looked over your body, noticing that there was still the tip of your pinkie finger poking out from underneath the blanket. The same thoughts as before shot through his mind. Would you be in pain if he took your hand? Would you wake up? But this time he did not have the strength to deny himself the feeling of your hand in his, and very slowly, very carefully, he pulled the blanket away from your hand, pushing his own underneath your fingers. They were cold, as they rested in his palm, and quickly he brought his other hand down over it, covering it in hopes of offering a little warmth.

His fingers ghosted over the healing cuts and bruises on the delicate skin of the back of your hand. He wished he could do something to make them heal faster, something to warm your fingers up quicker, something to help you heal and wake up with the memories of what had happened no stronger than the memories of a distant nightmare.

He exhaled shakily. How long could he stay here with you? His heart screamed As long as it takes her to wake up!, but his head was more rational than that. He’d need to eat soon. Or use the bathroom. He needed to wash up and dress into something fresh, something he had not slept in. And if you stayed unconscious for longer, he’d need to get back to training, to studying. Sure, Sukuna was defeated, but there were still curses out there that needed to be dealt with.

Then there was the matter of the Zenin clan, the Zenin clan, which’s head he now was. By the gods, he really didn’t want that position, but he held it now, and even with how Maki had decimated the ranks, and the decision of the other clans to cast the Zenin clan out of the Big Three, there was still a lot of responsibility to bear, a lot of politics to learn. At least he did not have to worry so much about the Gojō clan, with Gojō Satoru, his guardian, being the head of it. But then again, he already dreaded the meetings. There was no way Gojō would behave maturely during those, was there?

What came after? After studying and training and fighting curses and handling clan politics? His fingers tightened around yours, not squeezing, but just enough for him to feel your hand rest heavily in his. After all that, he’d come back here, hold your hand, pray for you to wake up. He didn’t really believe in the gods, but he’d also daily go to a shrine, and make an offering to them, asking them to bring you back to him.

Megumi slumped deeper into the chain. He felt sleep already tuck at his eyelids again, his thoughts growing fuzzy, dizziness taking over his vision, even when he tried to fight it. It made sense, he guessed, that he was still easily exhausted after everything that had happened. And he had a feeling Sukuna had not really cared to take good care of Megumi’s body while he had possessed him, so that he was weakened from months of physical neglect. Still he tried to refuse his body the need for rest, and instead turned to watch your face once more. The sky outside had brightened enough to give him a clearer image of what state you were in, and Megumi’s heart tucked painfully as he was able to make out the cuts across your face more clearly now. A deeper one, that had been stitched up, ran from the corner of your mouth to the side of your nose, another one right underneath your left eye and countless shallow ones were littered all over you face.

Megumi blinked slowly, exhaling shakily. He wished he could help you somehow, could do more than stare at you and hold your cold hand. He wove the fingers of his left hand through your right, continuing to brush over the tiny cuts on the back of your hand with the other one.

Was it just a figment of his imagination, wishful thinking, or had your hand become a bit warmer between his, your skin regained a little bit of its colour? No, he told himself, he was just exhausted, beginning to confuse reality with what he wanted to see. Looking back at your face, he inhaled with a shudder before he closed his eyes. He needed to sleep. He was of little help as it was, but completely exhausted he’d be even less useful. If you stayed asleep for a longer time, he wanted to be in shape and back in the game before you woke up. Maybe even have figured out all the clan business by then. And if you woke sooner, which he hoped for, he at least wouldn’t look quite as battered as he felt at the moment if he napped a little now.

His mind began drifting off eventually, the dizziness of exhaustion pulling him under, back into memories of spring afternoons sparing with you under the fall of Sakura petals. He wished he could summon those memories at will anytime he wanted, the feeling of the soft spring breeze on his skin, the touch of petals brushing over his face, the sound of your breathless laughter, the strain in his muscles and the shock in his bones whenever your staff hit his with unbroken ferocity. He was on the strange border between waking and sleeping, just wondering if he could manipulate the memory enough to stir his time with you away from the sparing exercise and instead convince dream-you to take a break sitting on the stairs, when suddenly there was something moving against his hand.

Half asleep, Megumi tried shooing the sensation away, wanting to stay in the beautiful memory of this afternoon in spring he had spent with you, but the motion in his hand returned and he jolted out of the dream.

The third time around, Megumi was certain that he was not just imagining it: Your fingers were weakly flexing against his, and before he had time to sit up or even direct his attention to your face, your raspy voice broke the silence that otherwise was only interrupted by the chirping of the birds outside in the snow.

“Megumi?”

It felt like Megumi’s whole world began collapsing in on itself, his heart first stopping and then beating with twice the speed at the sound of your familiar voice whispering his name.

“Megumi, is that you?”

Along with your question you tucked at his hand, and he finally looked up at your face.

Your eyes were still heavy, but open and fixed on him, flitting over his features as if you were searching for any indication that the boy in front of you was someone else, someone who just looked like him.

Megumi wanted to answer, but his throat closed up painfully. So he just nodded, grabbed your hand tighter into his, and nodded. At the gesture a smile began tucking at your lips, a sad smile that he desperately wanted to turn into a happy one, and panic began gripping his heart, when he suddenly noticed tears springing into your eyes. Quickly he shifted from the chair to sit beside you on the mattress of your bed, the softness of it familiar under him, your body pressing heavily against him through the blankets.

“It’s really you,” you answered your own question, a tear running down you’re the side of your face and into your hairline. Megumi wanted to brush it away, but he still held your hand with both of his and refused to let go. Instead, he just held your hand tighter, bringing it up to his chest. He was not sure if it was a gesture to comfort you by letting you feel his heartbeat, or a gesture to comfort himself.

Leaning a little closer to you he finally managed to press out a few words, his voice raspy and thick with unshed tears of relief. “’s me.”

You moved, pulling your other hand from underneath the blanket, and reached up towards Megumi’s face. Leaning in further, he met it halfway, letting you brush your fingers over his face. Cold fingertips traced the skin along his chin, over his forehead and over the bridge of his nose. It was only when your featherlight touch ran along the thin skin under his eyes that Megumi understood that you were tracing the parts of his skin where Sukuna’s marks had once been. A shiver went through him at the thought, suddenly uncomfortably aware of how much his body had been violated by the ancient sorcerer.

“He’s gone,” Megumi whispered into the narrow space between you, scared that if he spoke any louder, you might draw your hand away. He wanted to avoid that desperately. After all, your fingers left a sweet, tingling sensation in their wake.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you replied, drawing back from the subtle touch, and instead cupping the side of Megumi’s face. Instinctively he nuzzled into your palm, not minding that your cold fingers set the little hairs on his neck standing up.

“I was scared you wouldn’t wake up,” Megumi voiced his own confession.

Now that he was so close to you, close enough to smell the faint fragrance of the laundry detergent you used, and the dullness of the scent that only engulfed you when you were sleepy, he could no longer hold the thoughts at bay that had scratched at the surface to his consciousness since his conversation with Gojō. He had leant in close enough to feel your warm breath ghost over his cheek, and all of a sudden he was not sure why he had ever been scared of being anything but honest with you. Honest about his feelings for you, honest about how scared he was at the prospect of you getting hurt, or even worse, dying.

“Gojō said, you took the blow of Sukuna’s soul, when he died,” Megumi pressed out, his voice hoarse and scratching in his throat. “That you shielded our souls with yours. To protect us…”

You nodded at his words, your eyes carefully watching the emotions on Megumi’s face, as he furrowed his brows slightly.

“You could have died,” he accused. “Your soul could have gotten blown to bits and you could have died-“ Megumi was not sure if he was sad, angry or despaired at the thought. “Why did you do that, put yourself on the line like that?”

“What would have been the alternative, hm? Let Sukuna blow all of us up? Sure, my chances certainly would have been better if I hadn’t tried to absorb the blast, but then you’d be dead now. Yūji and Gojō-sensei too.”

Your breathing had gotten heavy over the few sentences you had spoken, as if it took great physical effort to talk. Worriedly Megumi shook his head at you.

“But did you think for one moment about how I’d feel if something had happened to you?”

You laughed, but it was one of the humourless laughs you paid Megumi whenever he had missed the point in something you had told him.

“Did you think for one moment how I felt? Watching you being possessed by Sukuna?” You took a deep breath, trying to counteract the strain the conversation put on you, and had Megumi not been as desperate to hear your voice as he was, he would have asked you to continue the conversation another time. “How I felt watching him use your body to fight against the strongest sorcerer of our time, letting Gojō blow you to bits?”

Your fingers tightened around his left hand, the faint memory of searing pain tucking in his mind somewhere.

“And just for the record, I did think about how you might feel. And I came to the conclusion that I’d be lucky if you’d feel anything close to the despair I felt, watching you go through all that.”

Megumi stared at you, your argument only half registering in his mind, as his eyes stayed fixed on your chapped lips moving around the words you spoke.

“You’re an idiot Fushiguro Megumi,” you continued, slightly out of breath, and pulling your hand away from his face to softly flick his forehead, “if you think I’d risk your life if I might as well safe it.”

The flick against his forehead pulled Megumi back into the moment, your cold fingers smoothing over the spot where your nail had gently snapped against his skin, and then cupping his face again.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt,” Megumi mumbled, his eyes wandering to your lips before he hung his head.

He was tired, physically and emotionally. It felt like his body had been drained of all its energy over the past months, and now even the shortest conversations tired him out immediately. And he was sick of fearing getting rejected by you. He finally wanted to tell you how he felt, wanted you to know that in him you would always have someone who would look out for you, even if you turned him down. But was now really the right moment to spring this on you? Hardly.

“Me neither, Megumi,” you replied, “me neither.”

He felt you gently tuck at his chin, making him look up at you again. You were carefully observing his face, the way your eyes skipped to his lips again and again not escaping his notice, while he watched their flickering in a mixture of hope and anticipation as well as amusement. He wasn’t sure for how long you sat and simply observed each other, but when the first beams of winter sunlight began blinding him, he finally gave into the question that had been on the tip of his tongue since you had reached up to cup his face.

“May I kiss you?”

The question was but a breath in the little space between your faces, and he could feel your breath hitch once you had processed the meaning of his words.

For a terrible second Megumi thought you would deny him, would turn him down with the way your eyes widened and stared at him in surprise. But then they softened, and you nodded.

“Please,” you whispered back, your breath fanning over his skin like a gentle caress.

Megumi watched your face for a moment longer, wanting to see if you really meant your answer or if you had just agreed in order to please him. But the expectant nervousness, the anticipation and slight giddiness written into your features was proof enough for Megumi to slowly lean down to where you were still resting on the pillow. His eyes fluttered closed as his lips were but a hair width away from yours, hesitating to close the last bit of distance. His heart was doing summersaults in his chest, your hand he was still holding clutched to his chest, the only lifeline he had to hold onto to stay in control of the spinning in his head. For a second he waited, let the tension between your lips and his sizzle and burn him, felt the heat your skin radiated, the shaky up and down of your chest as you patiently anticipated him kissing you.

And when it all got too much, when his senses got so overwhelmed with your presence, when his ears were ringing with his own heartbeat, he eventually gave in, closing the last bit of distance and pressed his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

Neither you nor Megumi had much, if any, experience with kissing, which an outsider would have been painfully aware to, watching the way Megumi was leaning over you, almost like frozen as his brain tried to process the sensation of your soft, sweet lips against his. But when he lifted one of his hands away from yours, and cupped your face instead, pushing his fingertips past your hairline, pulling you closer to him, the tension seemed to fall away, and he melted into the touch. Carefully he moved his lips against yours, his heart stuttering at the way your hand at his chest closed more tightly around his fingers, while the other moved from the side of his face to his neck, beckoning him closer and closer. His senses narrowed in on you, his world consisting of nothing but the sound of your hitching breath, the taste of your lips, the smell of your skin, the warmth of your body.

Megumi had often imagined what it might be like to kiss you, but never in his life had he imagined that your kisses might be so sweet, so soft and warm and gentle. The way our lips moved against his was heaven, and Megumi found himself wishing he could stay in that moment forever. Thin morning sunlight brushed over the two of you, warming his skin beyond the blush that hard started to burn on his cheeks, and his heart felt like it was beating in rhythm with yours as a soft gasp slipped over your lips when he ran his tongue experimentally against it.

That little sound was what made Megumi decide that he had to pull away from the kiss, lest his heart might give out, and with a shaky exhale he turned his head just enough to break away. Only then he noticed how out of breath he was, how shaky his hand on the side of your face had become. He rested his forehead against yours, playfully brushing his nose against yours, eliciting a small giggle, that made his heart swell.

“I’m in love with you,” he confessed, not caring anymore about whether it was a good or a bad time to talk about matters this serious. From where he was standing – or rather sitting – the two of you had barely escaped death, had won a battle against the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer of all time, and now had kissed in a morning-sun flooded room while outside snow crystals glimmered in the light. When would he ever have the courage to tell the truth if not now? “I know it sounds stupid, like a cliché or something, but I think I’ve been in love with you since we first me. It feels like that day in Shinjuku, when Gojō sent me to pick you up… I knew who I was looking for, as if my heart knew something my head didn’t.”

He expected you to say something, but instead you stayed quiet, only breathing heavily from the kiss you had just shared, and Megumi almost wondered if you had fallen asleep again, when you suddenly tucked on his sweatshirt.

It took him a moment to understand that you were wordlessly asking him to lay down with you, so he hastily swung his legs onto the mattress, and when you tried pulling the blankets over him this time, he did not protest, but settled under the soft and warm fabric like he had secretly wanted to do since the first time you had invited him to stay the night. Next to him you shifted, and before Megumi knew what you were doing, you had rested your head on his shoulder, just where his arm connected to his torso. Your ear was pressed to his body, as if you were listening to his heartbeat and you brought your arm over his chest in a comfortable hug.

Ignoring the way his heartrate was spiking, Megumi wrapped the arm you were resting in, around your back, pulling you closer to him, settling you more securely against his chest, and linked his ankle with yours. In response you shifted again, shifted more of your weight unto Megumi until you were both laying comfortably in each other’s arms. It felt like a puzzle made of two pieces with very difficult patterns had clicked into place, and it took everything in Megumi not to start crying at how happy it made him to have you rest by his side like this. Even though you had not answered to his confession.

As if you had read his mind, you suddenly spoke up.

“It wasn’t your heart,” you whispered against his shirt, tilting your head up a little to be able to look at him. “It wasn’t your heart that knew something your head didn’t. It was your soul. That’s how I found you that day. There was this call… not for the new student at Jujutsu High, but the call for me. As if your soul had been looking for me. And when I saw you, it felt like something had fallen into place and I knew that our lives had been meant to be intertwined even long before we first met.”

Megumi blinked into the by now sun flooded room.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I don’t know if something like soulmates exist, but if they do, you’re mine.” Megumi felt your lashes against his jaw as you leant up to press a kiss to his chin, and then the side of his neck, sending a warm shiver down his spine. You settled back against his chest, before you asked: “Is that stupid?”

Megumi shook his head. “No,” he answered, “No, it’s not.”

He remembered how he had just followed an instinct that day, trying to find you, how he had been magnetically pulled towards you. He was certain soulmates were nothing but a fairytale made up by media trying to sell love to young girls, but the idea that there was someone out there destined for him was addicting. Especially if this someone were you. Scrap that. If that someone weren’t you, he wouldn’t want them either way. With you in his arms, he had everything he had ever dreamt of.

Megumi knew, that when he woke up again, there would be work he had to do. He’d have to deal with Yūji’s doubtlessly overly enthusiastic response to see him alive and well, and with Panda and Inumaki too. Yuuta and Maki probably would have the decency to greet him without violating his personal space. And then there’d be Gojō, who, now that his biggest possible enemy was gone, would turn into an unsufferable source of stupid ideas and childish behaviours. Megumi was almost looking forward to seeing the man he considered perhaps not his father but at least an older brother, back to his old, happy self. Then he’d have to deal with the Zenin clan, and the other clans. Maybe Gojō could help with that. But in between, whenever he wasn’t busy, he would come and find you, and maybe you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two.

“Hey, Megumi?”

Your voice was already thick with sleep as you pulled him out of his thoughts again. He hummed in response, too tired to form a coherent answer.

“I’m in love with you, too.”

Seemed like the chances that you’d allow him to steal a kiss or two were pretty good then. He hummed again, this time with a smile on his face, burying his nose in your hair, and you pressed yourself closer to him in response.

-

It was around noon, when Gojō made his way towards your room. When he had woken up, Megumi was gone, and there was only one place really the raven-haired boy would run off to. Not bothering to knock, Gojō pushed the door to your room open, fully prepared to find his protégé slumped in a chair beside your bed, holding your cold hand or staring at your lifeless features.

Indeed, there was a chair pushed to your bedside, but Gojō had not been prepared to find Megumi laying in bed with you, your arm dragged over his middle, head resting on his chest. It was obvious that both of you were exhausted, but the colour had returned to your skin, nothing like the last time Gojō had seen you, all grey and void of life. Even your hair seemed to have regained some of its old glow. It seemed like you had woken up at some point and dragged Megumi into bed with you. The way the boy had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his face buried in your hair, not to mention the way Gojō remembered him looking at you for the past year, indicated that Megumi had been only all too happy to join you.

For a while Gojō watched his two students quietly. A part of him already wanted to tease Megumi, and he knew eventually he could, but he would also make it abundantly clear to both of you, how happy he was for you. After all you had been through, you deserved happiness.

Steps in the corridor approaching the room made Gojō pull out of his thoughts, and a moment later Yūji pocked his head in. Just like Gojō he took in the scene, and his mouth formed a little o before a grin split his face.

“About time,” he whispered with a grin, and Gojō couldn’t help but join in with one of his own.

“Finally, huh,” he agreed before he turned towards the door. “Come on, let’s let them sleep a while longer.”

Yūji nodded and bounced back into the corridor, the happiness for his friends unmistakable in the way he skipped away. Gojō turned to look at Megumi and you one last time.

There was a lot of work to be done when you woke up, but for now you deserved to rest. You had almost been killed and Megumi had been possessed by the mightiest sorcerer there had ever been. At least until Gojō had been born, the white-haired man thought smugly to himself. Megumi had lost so much, his father and mother, his sister, and almost the girl he loved. It was time that the wish that resonated in his name finally came true, that Megumi finally could live a blessed life.

Gojō quietly closed the door behind him as he stepped into the hallway. If there was one thing Gojō was certain of, it was that Megumi already considered himself blessed for getting to hold you in his arms, for getting loved by you and being allowed to love you back.

Tags: @natriae