big fan of whatever the youth is doing to torment scientology buildings

blake kathryn
One Nice Bug Per Day
YOU ARE THE REASON
wallacepolsom
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
we're not kids anymore.
Three Goblin Art
occasionally subtle
Sade Olutola
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Andulka
Xuebing Du
i don't do bad sauce passes

tannertan36
No title available
AnasAbdin

@theartofmadeline

Love Begins

Janaina Medeiros
Mike Driver
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@okakai
big fan of whatever the youth is doing to torment scientology buildings
so im suffering from writer's block but i really wanna get out that megumi piece for you guys so send reqs and lemme know what kind of smut you want!! try to be descriptive if u can pls my brain juice is dried up
It's been five years since your husband passed.
"I can be him."
One year since you returned to the jujutsu world.
"If you just let me. I can be him. You can call his name. Pretend he's touching you."
Six months since 𝓨𝒖𝒕𝒂 started pursuing you.
The setting sun over jujutsu tech glared you down as your back pressed into the bridge's wooden beams. Was Satoru's glare in the horizon? Was his judgement in the sky? Were his chastises whispered in the wind that kissed your cheek?
His eyes were above you.
His hair tickling your forehead.
His hands on you.
His. But not his. Not your husband. Not Satoru.
Just the man who wore his skin.
Yuta shedded his a long time ago. A miscalculation. A medical horror. Returning to his body became impossible and so, he remained in the man who was once yours. Now twenty three, and all he wanted?
You.
Before you, he stood. Looming over you the way that Satoru did. Caressing your cheek the way that Satoru did.
Whispering to you the way that Satoru did.
"I have his memories," he said, thumb tracing a familiar line on your cheekbone. "I know how he touched you. I know how he loved you. I can love you the same."
He leaned closer. Diminishing both the space between you and your shame.
"We can play pretend," he promised.
The same way Satoru had promised that he would come home.
The same way you had promised him that no one else would ever hold your heart, your body, your soul.
You broke your promise.
All it took was a kiss. From lips you remembered. From a mouth that worshipped you every day of your short marriage.
Your downfall were his hands. Familiar. Once yours. The wedding ring he still wore out of reverence for his sensei.
A kiss. A touch. A memory. That's all it took.
All it took for the sheets to welcome your back. For your thighs to welcome his head. Your hands greeting white hair that you once stroked so tenderly when the world caved in on him.
Your Satoru.
Not your Satoru.
Satoru's body.
Your Satoru's body.
Between your legs. Worshipping you. As he always did. With big, scarred hands spreading you apart. With a tongue that knew every inch of you. A voice that praised you.
The same way your husband would.
"So sweet, taste so so good, sweet girl," the groan soaked into your slick. An aphrodisiac of its own. Seeping into your veins. Dizzying your mind.
"Toru," you whimpered.
Toru.
Satoru.
You're Satoru.
He's not your Satoru.
But you moaned for him as if he was.
Tugged onto his hair. Ground into his face. Whimpered his name— as if he was.
Two orgasms on his tongue alone. Yuta proved that he had committed to his sensei's memories. He knew exactly how to fuck you on the pink muscle. Where to touch. What pressure.
His thumb stroked along your slit. Tracing the quivers as his lips occupied your clit. Sucking on its pulses and worming out another devastating orgasm out of you.
Three. You came three times.
The same number Satoru worked you up to before he kissed you. Held you. Fucked you.
Yuta committed to the routine. Kissed you. Spread your thighs.
Pressed his dick to your twitching cunt.
Shushed your cries.
Held you.
Fucked you.
Your body forgot, but your mind didn't. The stretch burned and tears pricked at your eyes— but your mind keened. Slipped. Soaked in the memory of him.
Of your husband.
Of Satoru.
As Yuta's hips engraved new memories into your thighs.
As his fingers blossomed new bruises.
As his mouth kissed you with a new hunger.
Your arms hugged around his neck. Breath stuttering. Voice breaking. Every plunge of his cock stroked the fire deeper into you. Unravelling your mind into a messy heap of tears and needy.
Rough pants fanned above you. His brows pinched at the centre. One hand gripping your thigh and the other cupped beneath your head. Yuta's thrusts were as nasty as Satoru's. Deep, fast, taking you apart from the inside out.
"That's it. There you go," he huffed, white lashes fluttering. "There's my girl."
"Sat— toru," you sobbed. Because maybe crying would make it real.
Maybe it'd wake you up from this terrible nightmare.
"You're doing so well, sweetheart." His voice slipped into your ear. Clenched your heart. Squeezed your cunt as your nails raked down his back.
"Toru," you whimpered. "T-Toru, toru please. I need— I need you. I need you."
His thumb found your clit, your back bowed into the pleasure. Another sob shook from your lungs. Reaching out for him. Not Yuta. Not his body. Him.
But it was Yuta who cupped your face. With Satoru's hand.
Yuta who bottomed out. Fucked you deeper. With Satoru's cock.
Yuta who whispered to you. With Satoru's voice.
"I'm here." He lied, so sweetly.
As his hips drove faster— and faster. Grinding into all of the sweetspots that Satoru knew. That were now at his disposal.
"I'm here, I'm right here, sweetheart." He lied, so gently.
As he hugged you close. Took you higher— and higher. Perfectly choreographed to the memory he committed to.
Playing with your clit, with Satoru's fingers.
Praising you, with Satoru's words.
Kissing you, with Satoru's lips.
"I'm gonna cum," you cried, and he licked your tears away. Cradled your face. Whispered tenderly.
"Cum," eyes so blue, eyes once yours, stared deep into your soul. Deceived you with promises that had already been broken. "Cum for me. Cum for 'toru, baby. C'mon."
The heat, the need, the memories— they all rushed into a knot that snapped in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes rolled back. Body arched. Tensed.
"Satoru— t-toru. Toru, miss you. I miss you."
You sobbed his name when you came.
Clung to his shoulders.
Squeezed his cock.
But you knew.
That it wasn't him that held you.
Wasn't him that smacked his hips into yours.
Wasn't him that groaned deep, even if it was his voice.
Wasn't him that stilled, that moaned your name, that filled you to the brim and kept pumping as you shook with whimpers.
Eyes so blue. Eyes once yours.
But in your heart, you knew. Satoru was dead.
Knew that the thing wearing his skin wasn't him.
And that the only one who caressed your face, kissed you, told you that he loved you— wasn't your husband.
But Okkotsu Yuta.
© 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒔𝒎. no plagiarism or ai training authorised.
THIS IS BEAUTIFUL
megumi smut otw but i wanna try a new concept for another piece..
who would you rather see a smau for?
megumi
yuuta
all inclusive- yuuta, megs, yuuji, inumaki, gojo, maki
the last option would be a shorter prompt than if i were to do megumi or yuuta
‘she eat she the birthday’ — ft. yuuta o. and fem!reader
entails: fluff; your best friend makes a speech at your birthday dinner! i had special grade reader in mind when writing. no beta
the event hall bustled, sorcerers sitting shoulder to shoulder while sipping on fancy cocktails in their sunday's best— all to honour your birthday. it was no huge milestone in your eyes, but gojo saw it differently. to him, this was your honorary ‘coming of age’ as a sorcerer, meaning your birthday was now a bombshell on everyone's calendar. the old man reserved the venue three months in advance, booked a professional photographer for the event, and ordered enough food to feed half of a small country. as overwhelming as the approaching date was, you could always count on yuuta to ease your mind. he'd pat you on the back with a shy grin while offering the same kind words: “i know he can be overbearing sometimes, but he means well.”
months of tedious and begrudging planning lead to the current moment— you sat at a long dining table in the main hall of the venue with your closest friends, yuuta to your left as always. gojo was shuffling around with a grin, probably bragging to everyone about how he managed to plan such a magnificent gala for his ‘favourite girl's’ birthday. small conversation was made whilst everyone ate, laughing yuuji's joke and smiling inwardly when megumi groaned in annoyance. when you were mid-bite into your food, you noticed yuuta anxiously checking his wristwatch momentarily from your peripheral view. you didn't comment on it and carried on with your food, but kept an eye on him— but that didn't last for long as he stood shortly after, lifting his glass. his eyes darted down to you, cheeks already beginning to flush pink as he cleared his throat loud enough to quiet down the hall. those who didn't hear saw everyone's gazes dart in his direction and followed suit. gojo smiled knowingly.
“so, uhm..” yuuta began with a shaky breath, the heat on his cheeks only growing brighter now that he had everyone's attention. “[name] and i have been friends ever since i was enrolled into jujutsu tech— which in retrospect, hasn't been that long, but the things we've been through together makes it feel like a lifetime. she always has my back, even when she acts like it's a chore and that means more to mean that any.. over-polite camaraderie.” he paused, clearing his throat, hands moving to smoothen his suit jacket as he continued. “she's helped me through a lot of hard times, especially when I first enrolled. i.. didn't want to do sorcery, but knowing i'd have her made everyday a little easier. every day we'd spend talking instead of training or watching movies instead of sleeping only planted her deeper and deeper into my life until there was a part of my heart reserved for her— and, she's also really strong too.. i mean, you guys probably know that,” the hall laughed, yuuta swallowed harshly, eyes flitting down to you in your seat next to his. this time, your eyes locked. you were already smiling up at him attentively. “but i mean mentally, too. she's been through a lot of stuff, on and off field. she's one of the most resilient people i know, and everyday i aspire to be more like her.” yuuta's gaze darted away from you with a bashful smile as he continued talking. everyone was looking at him with that same knowing look, as if they saw right through him. in the distant crowd, he saw someone nudge their friend's shoulder, point directly at you two and then burst into giggles. way to be subtle. “i guess what i'm trying to say is that i can't see my life without her and i'm glad she's here.. and i'm also glad she chose me as her best friend.” his eyes flit to you, gaze locking before his final line. “i love you, [name].”
once he finished speaking, the sound of gojo letting out an obnoxious wolf-whistle echoed throughout the venue, hands clapping together before the majority of the room followed suit. he settled back into his seat, face cherry-pink as the entire table bursted out in laughter. he cupped his hands over his face as yuuji shoved his shoulder, only peaking from the side when he felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder. “i love you too, yuuta.”
an: i wrote his speech with so much pauses because he was making it up on the spot. my king would NEVERR use chat gpt for yew
‘she eat she the birthday’ — ft. yuuta o. and fem!reader
entails: fluff; your best friend makes a speech at your birthday dinner! i had special grade reader in mind when writing. no beta
the event hall bustled, sorcerers sitting shoulder to shoulder while sipping on fancy cocktails in their sunday's best— all to honour your birthday. it was no huge milestone in your eyes, but gojo saw it differently. to him, this was your honorary ‘coming of age’ as a sorcerer, meaning your birthday was now a bombshell on everyone's calendar. the old man reserved the venue three months in advance, booked a professional photographer for the event, and ordered enough food to feed half of a small country. as overwhelming as the approaching date was, you could always count on yuuta to ease your mind. he'd pat you on the back with a shy grin while offering the same kind words: “i know he can be overbearing sometimes, but he means well.”
months of tedious and begrudging planning lead to the current moment— you sat at a long dining table in the main hall of the venue with your closest friends, yuuta to your left as always. gojo was shuffling around with a grin, probably bragging to everyone about how he managed to plan such a magnificent gala for his ‘favourite girl's’ birthday. small conversation was made whilst everyone ate, laughing yuuji's joke and smiling inwardly when megumi groaned in annoyance. when you were mid-bite into your food, you noticed yuuta anxiously checking his wristwatch momentarily from your peripheral view. you didn't comment on it and carried on with your food, but kept an eye on him— but that didn't last for long as he stood shortly after, lifting his glass. his eyes darted down to you, cheeks already beginning to flush pink as he cleared his throat loud enough to quiet down the hall. those who didn't hear saw everyone's gazes dart in his direction and followed suit. gojo smiled knowingly.
“so, uhm..” yuuta began with a shaky breath, the heat on his cheeks only growing brighter now that he had everyone's attention. “[name] and i have been friends ever since i was enrolled into jujutsu tech— which in retrospect, hasn't been that long, but the things we've been through together makes it feel like a lifetime. she always has my back, even when she acts like it's a chore and that means more to mean that any.. over-polite camaraderie.” he paused, clearing his throat, hands moving to smoothen his suit jacket as he continued. “she's helped me through a lot of hard times, especially when I first enrolled. i.. didn't want to do sorcery, but knowing i'd have her made everyday a little easier. every day we'd spend talking instead of training or watching movies instead of sleeping only planted her deeper and deeper into my life until there was a part of my heart reserved for her— and, she's also really strong too.. i mean, you guys probably know that,” the hall laughed, yuuta swallowed harshly, eyes flitting down to you in your seat next to his. this time, your eyes locked. you were already smiling up at him attentively. “but i mean mentally, too. she's been through a lot of stuff, on and off field. she's one of the most resilient people i know, and everyday i aspire to be more like her.” yuuta's gaze darted away from you with a bashful smile as he continued talking. everyone was looking at him with that same knowing look, as if they saw right through him. in the distant crowd, he saw someone nudge their friend's shoulder, point directly at you two and then burst into giggles. way to be subtle. “i guess what i'm trying to say is that i can't see my life without her and i'm glad she's here.. and i'm also glad she chose me as her best friend.” his eyes flit to you, gaze locking before his final line. “i love you, [name].”
once he finished speaking, the sound of gojo letting out an obnoxious wolf-whistle echoed throughout the venue, hands clapping together before the majority of the room followed suit. he settled back into his seat, face cherry-pink as the entire table bursted out in laughter. he cupped his hands over his face as yuuji shoved his shoulder, only peaking from the side when he felt your hand gently rest on his shoulder. “i love you too, yuuta.”
an: i wrote his speech with so much pauses because he was making it up on the spot. my king would NEVERR use chat gpt for yew
five hundred follower special! who should i write a smut piece for?
choose your character
megumi
yuuta
vi (arcane)
shoko
maki
FUACCKK i hate writing it feels like all the good prompts are overused
something old, something new - ft. yuuta o. x fem!reader
cw: special grade reader inplied, fluff, lowk mean reader?, sassy yuuta ml
an: this isn't exactly how his ct works but the idea came to me while i was sleepy and i thought it was cute
“babe, are you ready? we're gonna be late-” yuuta's words came to a quick halt as he stepped into your shared bedroom, jaw almost falling slack at the sight infront of him. you, still clad in a towel, holding up two outfits on racks to rika— yes, his shikigami, rika. “what are you doing.”
gojo invited you both to a social networking event for sorcerers— mostly because he didn't want to attend alone, partly because he wanted you both to interact with other sorcerers that were on par with you. the event started at 7:30 and was a thirty minute drive. to be on time, you two would need to leave at seven; it was currently 6:45 and you weren't even dressed.
“i'm asking rika for her opinion, duh.” you responded with a roll of you eyes. meanwhile, rika lifted a pale, boney finger, pointing to the outfit on the right. “oh, i was thinking this one too. she has such good taste, doesn't she?” you beamed, holding up the outfit rika chose to yuuta, who was still standing in the doorway and absorbing everything around him. he never thought he'd meet a girl that didn't feel threatened by the curse lingering around him, much less befriending it “you could've asked me, y'know. i'm your boyfriend.”
at his words, you scoffed as a snarl curled at your lips. rika let out a child-like giggle, long fingers reaching out to you, gently curling a tress of your perfectly styled hair around jagged fingers. sometimes, he thought rika liked you more than she ever did him “rika's a girl. she understands these things better than you."
“i highly doubt that,” yuuta refuted, his tone carrying a hint of sass as he placed a hand on his hip. “you do realise rika still has the mentality of an eight year old, right?” at his words, you just scoffed with a dismissive wave of your hand as rika let out a wounded noise, scurrying behind your smaller frame. yuuta's face almost contorted in shock.
“tsk, you hurt her feelings," you stated before turning to rika, giving her a gentle pat on the.. nose? with a fond smile. “don't be sad. come, i'll let you help with my eyeliner.” rika immediately perked up at that, purring contently as she preened under your touch. yuuta stood in the doorway, betrayed and appalled, but he also knew that he'd never trade this for the world.
‘s(he) likes a boy’ ft. megumi f. x afab!reader
syp: megumi likes masc presenting reader, how will he fair?
entails: gender non conforming reader, implied pansexual gumi as well as reader, reader is implied to have a preference for girls, reader is lowk a social recluse, short haired reader stated.
the first time megumi laid eyes on you, it was after a flamboyant introduction from gojo followed by him pointing to the old, wooden door of the vacant classroom they were grouped in. classrooms had little to no use at tokyo jujustu tech, only used to hold meetings among students and regroupings after missions — never for actual teaching. a beat passed before the door grated against the rusty sweep, sliding open as you stepped inside. a mop of messy hair and an unironed uniform megumi could only assume gojo fitted you for just moments prior to this. oddly enough, you weren't wearing the typical ‘female’ jujutsu tech uniform and was clad in one much more similar to his own. nobody uttered a peep as you faced the class with a blank expression, standing reluctantly at gojo's side.
“this is the new first year! try to include her, alright guys?” gojo beamed, a heavy hand gentle smacking your shoulder as he grinned. you shot an odd look up at him as if he was your embarrassing father before your eyes darted right back to the floor, probably trying to muster every nonchalant bone in your body to the forefront. in megumi's eyes, it reminded him alot of himself. the way you stood, the small scowl on your lips, even how you seemed as if you rather be doing anything else. his train of thought broke when he felt eyes glued on him from his left. there sat yuuji, giving him a lethal side eye while trying to discreetly gesture for him to lean over. reluctantly, he shifted his body closer, leaning his upper body towards yuuji. his best friend shifted in return, moving to cusp his hand at the side of his mouth as he whispered to megumi— “bro, that's a girl ?”
megumi felt his eyes narrow immediately, almost as if he was offended on your behalf before pulling back and shoving yuuji's shoulder in a manner that clearly meant ‘shut it’. by the time they both looked back to the front of the class, you were still at gojo's side while he blabbered on something about your cursed technique. you'd clearly seen them whispering and was now giving them a scathing look as if you heard yuuji's comment coming from a mile away. fuck.
the second time megumi laid eyes on you was an early morning on the training grounds while you were sparring with maki. this time, you were wearing a tracksuit. simple, school issued, but somehow you still managed to look.. confusing. like a puzzle left half done, sitting on a kitchen table while waiting to be solved. yuuji's comment from a couple days ago floated aimlessly into his mind before he forced himself to get rid of it, focusing on the way you dodged maki's next hit diligently. despite maki's comfort in cursed tools, you two were training in hand-to-hand combat— which you were evidently good at. good enough to give maki a run for her money, and that said something.
the third time, he was close enough to hear you speak. he was lucky enough to be passing by the garden after a mission while you were having a conversation with nobara about typical ‘girl’ stuff— your haircare routine, nobara's skincare tips. your voice was soft but bright in a way that showed enthusiasm and carried a rasp that made his ears perk up. when he came to that realisation, he could've sworn his heart fluttered a bit.
the first time he interacted with you was when you were assigned to a mission together. the car ride to the mission site was relatively silent, save for the quiet hum of the radio and the thrum of the car when it met potholes. during the mission itself, interaction was purely strategic from both you and him. it was the first time someone his own age treated him more as a colleague than a potential friend — it felt odd, he was always the more distant one. it never felt reciprocated. he took note of that.
the second time you interacted was at a dinner organised by gojo, a ‘well done’ to all the students after performing well on field for the past half year. starring in dramatics, the old man rented out the entire restaurant despite the dinner party only containing himself, ten students, and principal yaga. at the main table, megumi found his namecard adjacent to yours in the seating arrangement made by staff. his heart tingled for a moment before yuuji smacked his shoulder from behind, settling into the seat to next to his.
the event was formal, everyone dressed in their sunday's best just for some crumby dinner— it was pointless, in megumi's eyes, but he didn't protest when gojo shoved a designer suit into his hands. all the guys wore suits, probably hand-picked by gojo, and the girls wore elegant but simple floor length gowns. however, you opted out, wearing a simple suit instead. it was nothing he hadn't seen before: black blazer, white dress shirt, the works— but megumi's pupils almost doubled in size when you sat down. the suit was tailored perfectly to your body, showing just enough of the dip of your hips to make someone question their sexuality tied together by the boyish charm your smile when maki complimented your tie. megumi held his breath the entire dinner, forking at the peas next to his steak aimlessly while everyone engaged in conversation. while he was busy shoveling his peas onto his steak, he dropped his knife, silverware clattering, knocking pitifully against the chair before tumbling beneath the table. cursing himself internally while avoiding everyone's glances, he ducked to pick up the knife— at the same time as you. you grabbed hold of it first, already offering it to him by the time he gathered his bearings. pinkness sprouted on his ears as he mumbled ‘thanks’ soft enough for you and you alone to hear. when he took the knife from you, his fingers brushed against yours just enough for him to feel the cold metal of the rings decorating your fingers before you both rised back to your seated dispositions.
after that day, it seemed as if megumi saw you everywhere. on benches in the garden with nobara, chatting with yuuji at vending machines that littered the halls, or training with maki. the longer he stared, the more he picked up about you; from the way you preferred your hair to your favourite brand of cheap noodles. unfamiliar feelings festered in his chest, ones he didn't quite understand. you didn't look like the typical girls guys his age had crushes on, didn't look like the posters in yuuji's room, didn't look like the girls gojo warned him about. your curves weren't as full, your hair barely touched your shoulders and the way you stood— no, your mannerisms, were masculine enough to make a stranger's eyes linger in curiosity. it made him wonder what your drive was, why you were a sorcerer, what a peek inside your brain would look like. among these thoughts, there was one prominent one— “would you even like him?”
it was his first instinct: of course you were gay, you fit the bill to a tee. he would never have a chance, so it was better if he just got over himself and kept his feelings under wraps. so for the next week, he did everything he could to steer clear of you: training on different grounds, requesting solo missions for as long as possible, and generally avoiding you in the common areas of the school. you found it weird, but it wasn't your place to question why he'd suddenly disappeared from your life when you were nothing but acquainted in passing. meanwhile, megumi was pacing his dorm while waiting for the halls to clear, not wanting to take the chance of running into you— his newly appointed hallway crush.
four out of seven days into his ‘you’ cleanse, nobara cornered him after he had a brief meeting with gojo about an upcoming mission, practically jumping at him the moment he exited the teacher's lounge. his body froze, a heavy frown pulled at his lips as she slung an arm around his shoulders, questioning him rapidly as they walked through empty halls— ‘did something happen? did he get into an argument with yuuji, was he struck by a curse?’ fed up with her incessant questioning, he spluttered out the real reason in frustration “i'm trying to get over my crush on her”
nobara's eyes widened, batting at his shoulder as her brows furrowed “what, why would you do that?!” megumi felt his own eyebrows crease as his lips twitched, jaw clenched as he spoke “kugisaki, it's hopeless, she'll never like me back.” she scoffed in return, lips curling into a snarl at his idiocy “dude, you're her exact type. just talk to her!” megumi let out a huff, one that steamed both sarcasm and doubt “me? i'm her type?” he questioned with a roll of his eyes, clearly not heeding the truth in her words. nobara shoved his head this time, sending him stumbled with a small yelp “yes, asshole! she's interested in you, but you never talk to her!”
it took him a moment to recover but once he did, and processed the words that left nobara's lips, he stood idle for a moment. still holding the back of his head, lips slightly apart. you. you were interested in him. he swallowed harshly as heat began rising to his face. right, talking to you, he hadn't thought of that for some reason. realising just how flustered he looked, nobara's own lips parted in surprise— it would've surprised anyone, the stoic, unfeeling megumi fushiguro catching feelings. she almost felt a warm feeling wash over her as her expression softened into a gentle smile “holy shit, you do like her.”
from that day, nobara made it her duty to bring you and megumi closer together. inviting you to the same lunch table and then having ‘last minute training’, redirecting you to him whenever you asked questions about the ins and outs of jujutsu, having you hand deliver stuff she'd borrowed from him. for example, nobara had recently borrowed megumi's eyelash curler, claiming that it worked better than her own. after hoarding it for two weeks, megumi finally demanded it back. ceasing opportunity, nobara asked you to do her a favour by handing it to him while you both were hanging out in her dorm. strategically, she'd been painting her nails when she asked so that you couldn't grunt and complain for her to do it herself. within a moment, you were out the door and standing infront megumi's— his dorm was just across from hers. rapping your knuckles three times against the door, it took a moment before the door creaked open the slightest bit. stood behind it was megumi, bleary eyed and dressed in sweats.
“sorry, did i wake you?” you apologised, the rasp in your voice betraying the nervous tilt as you continued “nobara wanted me to give you this.” you said, gingerly offering him the eyelash curler as if you were feeding a shark. megumi felt his ears pinken at you seeing him in such a vulnerable state, but brushed it off as he took the eyelash curler from your hand “no.. it's fine. i was just reading.” no he was not. all the lights in his room were off. he had a long day, alright? “alright, i'll see you around, then.” the words left your lips before megumi could say anything else and you had made a steady retreat for nobara's dorm. evidently, he was horrible at this. he stood, staring at nobara's shut door for a moment before returning to the comfort of his own dorm where he could wallow in despair for an hour about a two minute long interaction.
this was going to be a shot in the dark.
do u guys not like birl reader😥
please could i be tagged in megumi x gender non conforming reader if you start tagging people?
FAAUCKK i didn't see this earlier yes ofc bae i'll keep u in mind
can u guys send yuuta requests pls im sick of megumi...
i major in fluff but i'll try my best if the people want smut
‘s(he) likes a boy’ ft. megumi f. x afab!reader
syp: megumi likes masc presenting reader, how will he fair?
entails: gender non conforming reader, implied pansexual gumi as well as reader, reader is implied to have a preference for girls, reader is lowk a social recluse, short haired reader stated.
the first time megumi laid eyes on you, it was after a flamboyant introduction from gojo followed by him pointing to the old, wooden door of the vacant classroom they were grouped in. classrooms had little to no use at tokyo jujustu tech, only used to hold meetings among students and regroupings after missions — never for actual teaching. a beat passed before the door grated against the rusty sweep, sliding open as you stepped inside. a mop of messy hair and an unironed uniform megumi could only assume gojo fitted you for just moments prior to this. oddly enough, you weren't wearing the typical ‘female’ jujutsu tech uniform and was clad in one much more similar to his own. nobody uttered a peep as you faced the class with a blank expression, standing reluctantly at gojo's side.
“this is the new first year! try to include her, alright guys?” gojo beamed, a heavy hand gentle smacking your shoulder as he grinned. you shot an odd look up at him as if he was your embarrassing father before your eyes darted right back to the floor, probably trying to muster every nonchalant bone in your body to the forefront. in megumi's eyes, it reminded him alot of himself. the way you stood, the small scowl on your lips, even how you seemed as if you rather be doing anything else. his train of thought broke when he felt eyes glued on him from his left. there sat yuuji, giving him a lethal side eye while trying to discreetly gesture for him to lean over. reluctantly, he shifted his body closer, leaning his upper body towards yuuji. his best friend shifted in return, moving to cusp his hand at the side of his mouth as he whispered to megumi— “bro, that's a girl ?”
megumi felt his eyes narrow immediately, almost as if he was offended on your behalf before pulling back and shoving yuuji's shoulder in a manner that clearly meant ‘shut it’. by the time they both looked back to the front of the class, you were still at gojo's side while he blabbered on something about your cursed technique. you'd clearly seen them whispering and was now giving them a scathing look as if you heard yuuji's comment coming from a mile away. fuck.
the second time megumi laid eyes on you was an early morning on the training grounds while you were sparring with maki. this time, you were wearing a tracksuit. simple, school issued, but somehow you still managed to look.. confusing. like a puzzle left half done, sitting on a kitchen table while waiting to be solved. yuuji's comment from a couple days ago floated aimlessly into his mind before he forced himself to get rid of it, focusing on the way you dodged maki's next hit diligently. despite maki's comfort in cursed tools, you two were training in hand-to-hand combat— which you were evidently good at. good enough to give maki a run for her money, and that said something.
the third time, he was close enough to hear you speak. he was lucky enough to be passing by the garden after a mission while you were having a conversation with nobara about typical ‘girl’ stuff— your haircare routine, nobara's skincare tips. your voice was soft but bright in a way that showed enthusiasm and carried a rasp that made his ears perk up. when he came to that realisation, he could've sworn his heart fluttered a bit.
the first time he interacted with you was when you were assigned to a mission together. the car ride to the mission site was relatively silent, save for the quiet hum of the radio and the thrum of the car when it met potholes. during the mission itself, interaction was purely strategic from both you and him. it was the first time someone his own age treated him more as a colleague than a potential friend — it felt odd, he was always the more distant one. it never felt reciprocated. he took note of that.
the second time you interacted was at a dinner organised by gojo, a ‘well done’ to all the students after performing well on field for the past half year. starring in dramatics, the old man rented out the entire restaurant despite the dinner party only containing himself, ten students, and principal yaga. at the main table, megumi found his namecard adjacent to yours in the seating arrangement made by staff. his heart tingled for a moment before yuuji smacked his shoulder from behind, settling into the seat to next to his.
the event was formal, everyone dressed in their sunday's best just for some crumby dinner— it was pointless, in megumi's eyes, but he didn't protest when gojo shoved a designer suit into his hands. all the guys wore suits, probably hand-picked by gojo, and the girls wore elegant but simple floor length gowns. however, you opted out, wearing a simple suit instead. it was nothing he hadn't seen before: black blazer, white dress shirt, the works— but megumi's pupils almost doubled in size when you sat down. the suit was tailored perfectly to your body, showing just enough of the dip of your hips to make someone question their sexuality tied together by the boyish charm your smile when maki complimented your tie. megumi held his breath the entire dinner, forking at the peas next to his steak aimlessly while everyone engaged in conversation. while he was busy shoveling his peas onto his steak, he dropped his knife, silverware clattering, knocking pitifully against the chair before tumbling beneath the table. cursing himself internally while avoiding everyone's glances, he ducked to pick up the knife— at the same time as you. you grabbed hold of it first, already offering it to him by the time he gathered his bearings. pinkness sprouted on his ears as he mumbled ‘thanks’ soft enough for you and you alone to hear. when he took the knife from you, his fingers brushed against yours just enough for him to feel the cold metal of the rings decorating your fingers before you both rised back to your seated dispositions.
after that day, it seemed as if megumi saw you everywhere. on benches in the garden with nobara, chatting with yuuji at vending machines that littered the halls, or training with maki. the longer he stared, the more he picked up about you; from the way you preferred your hair to your favourite brand of cheap noodles. unfamiliar feelings festered in his chest, ones he didn't quite understand. you didn't look like the typical girls guys his age had crushes on, didn't look like the posters in yuuji's room, didn't look like the girls gojo warned him about. your curves weren't as full, your hair barely touched your shoulders and the way you stood— no, your mannerisms, were masculine enough to make a stranger's eyes linger in curiosity. it made him wonder what your drive was, why you were a sorcerer, what a peek inside your brain would look like. among these thoughts, there was one prominent one— “would you even like him?”
it was his first instinct: of course you were gay, you fit the bill to a tee. he would never have a chance, so it was better if he just got over himself and kept his feelings under wraps. so for the next week, he did everything he could to steer clear of you: training on different grounds, requesting solo missions for as long as possible, and generally avoiding you in the common areas of the school. you found it weird, but it wasn't your place to question why he'd suddenly disappeared from your life when you were nothing but acquainted in passing. meanwhile, megumi was pacing his dorm while waiting for the halls to clear, not wanting to take the chance of running into you— his newly appointed hallway crush.
four out of seven days into his ‘you’ cleanse, nobara cornered him after he had a brief meeting with gojo about an upcoming mission, practically jumping at him the moment he exited the teacher's lounge. his body froze, a heavy frown pulled at his lips as she slung an arm around his shoulders, questioning him rapidly as they walked through empty halls— ‘did something happen? did he get into an argument with yuuji, was he struck by a curse?’ fed up with her incessant questioning, he spluttered out the real reason in frustration “i'm trying to get over my crush on her”
nobara's eyes widened, batting at his shoulder as her brows furrowed “what, why would you do that?!” megumi felt his own eyebrows crease as his lips twitched, jaw clenched as he spoke “kugisaki, it's hopeless, she'll never like me back.” she scoffed in return, lips curling into a snarl at his idiocy “dude, you're her exact type. just talk to her!” megumi let out a huff, one that steamed both sarcasm and doubt “me? i'm her type?” he questioned with a roll of his eyes, clearly not heeding the truth in her words. nobara shoved his head this time, sending him stumbled with a small yelp “yes, asshole! she's interested in you, but you never talk to her!”
it took him a moment to recover but once he did, and processed the words that left nobara's lips, he stood idle for a moment. still holding the back of his head, lips slightly apart. you. you were interested in him. he swallowed harshly as heat began rising to his face. right, talking to you, he hadn't thought of that for some reason. realising just how flustered he looked, nobara's own lips parted in surprise— it would've surprised anyone, the stoic, unfeeling megumi fushiguro catching feelings. she almost felt a warm feeling wash over her as her expression softened into a gentle smile “holy shit, you do like her.”
from that day, nobara made it her duty to bring you and megumi closer together. inviting you to the same lunch table and then having ‘last minute training’, redirecting you to him whenever you asked questions about the ins and outs of jujutsu, having you hand deliver stuff she'd borrowed from him. for example, nobara had recently borrowed megumi's eyelash curler, claiming that it worked better than her own. after hoarding it for two weeks, megumi finally demanded it back. ceasing opportunity, nobara asked you to do her a favour by handing it to him while you both were hanging out in her dorm. strategically, she'd been painting her nails when she asked so that you couldn't grunt and complain for her to do it herself. within a moment, you were out the door and standing infront megumi's— his dorm was just across from hers. rapping your knuckles three times against the door, it took a moment before the door creaked open the slightest bit. stood behind it was megumi, bleary eyed and dressed in sweats.
“sorry, did i wake you?” you apologised, the rasp in your voice betraying the nervous tilt as you continued “nobara wanted me to give you this.” you said, gingerly offering him the eyelash curler as if you were feeding a shark. megumi felt his ears pinken at you seeing him in such a vulnerable state, but brushed it off as he took the eyelash curler from your hand “no.. it's fine. i was just reading.” no he was not. all the lights in his room were off. he had a long day, alright? “alright, i'll see you around, then.” the words left your lips before megumi could say anything else and you had made a steady retreat for nobara's dorm. evidently, he was horrible at this. he stood, staring at nobara's shut door for a moment before returning to the comfort of his own dorm where he could wallow in despair for an hour about a two minute long interaction.
this was going to be a shot in the dark.
guys i think i forgot how to write mlw smut..
‘dogtooth!’ ft. megumi f. x fem!reader
syp: you're scared of megumi's demon dogs, they adore you
“megumi, i swear to god—” you cut yourself off with a small shriek as shiro curiously padded closer to you two. currently, you were frozen in place behind megumi, fingers curled into his sleeve as you shot a deadly glare into the back of his skull. he stood unshaken, simply trying to ward the large wolf breed back into some far corner of his dorm so you wouldn't lose your shit.
originally, you avoided megumi's dorm like the plague, knowing of the two hounds he kept. you never had a good relationship with dogs, especially big ones that could bite a chunk out of you for sunday brunch. therefore, you kept your distance. any lazy hangouts were kept in your own dorm and you seldom visited megumi's unless the circumstances were pressing. unfortunately, that restraint crumbled when megumi told you he needed some help returning a couple cursed tools to gojo after a training attempt to broaden his horizon in weaponry. you asked if there was no one else that could help him, and the answer was no: yuuji was training with nanami, nobara was doing ‘girl stuff’ with maki, and inumaki and panda were idiots (his words, not yours)— making you the only viable option. now, you were barely two meters past the doorway and quivering in fear as shiro and kuro swarmed megumi's legs upon his arrival. “it's fine, they always do this when i get home.” he remarked nonchalantly, as if that helped.
kuro was the one that sought interest in you first, moving to sniff at your ankle. instinctively, you stepped back, letting go of megumi's sleeve. kuro stepped closer. megumi noticed the sheer look of distress on your face and called for kuro, but the large pup was way more interested in you and shiro soon began following in his brother's footsteps. megumi reached out, pulling at shiro's collar to prevent him from getting any closer to you while simultaneously reaching for kuro's collar, dragging the hound away from you just enough for you to free yourself from the wall you backed into.
“they don't bite until they're commanded to, you're good,” megumi insisted despite the pups now straining against the hold he had on them. megumi grumbled something under his breath before yanking them back with a sharp huff.
“then why are they.. doing that?” you pressed, practically halfway out the door by now as megumi rallied the dogs into submission. you knew (prayed) that he wouldn't let anything happen to you. “they don't know you, they're trying to get your scent.” megumi explained as he secured the nearest leash onto shiro and kuro. “look,”
megumi said as he stepped closer to you, just enough for the demon dogs to get close enough to get another whiff of your shoe, then your sock. cold noses pressed against your calf and even though your face contorted, your body was frozen still by fear, arms pinned to your sides. kuro's tail wagged wildly while shiro seemed more relaxed, tail flicking once or twice before trotting back over to megumi's side. kuro, seemingly having other plans, leapt up, paws clawing at your uniform as his tongue lolled out of his mouth. you let out yet another shriek, stumbling back, practically squirming away from the fur baby. it was a wonder you were still standing. megumi let out a small snort, tugging at kuro's leash for him to return to his side. “sorry, he's really friendly. he always does that..”
“shut up, just bring those stupid cursed tools outside yourself. i'll help you lug them back to gojo.” you bit out, definitely a little more snappy than usual due to the adrenaline coursing through your veins (because apparently a wolfdog licking your shin was the same as running four miles) as you dusted off your uniform frantically with a scowl. when you looked up, you realised megumi was sporting an unfamiliar shit-eating grin that seemed more like it belonged on gojo's face than his own. maybe gojo's soul heard the chaos ensuing and possessed megumi's body to see for itself, you wouldn't doubt the guy. “you think this is fucking funny?—”
before you could curse out his entire bloodline, megumi was ushering his dogs back inside with raised brows. “geez, geez my bad. i'll be out soon.”
‘grow up!' ft. yuuta o. x fem!reader
“you're falling asleep.” yuuta's voice was small, almost sounded wounded in the dark of your shared room. due to his own heavy workload and the sheer frequency of the missions you were sent on as a semi-grade one, you and yuuta barely got any one-on-one time together as opposed to the almost endless free time you had in highschool. adulthood was hitting hard, and you were having none of it. what was once a perfectly balanced routine cascaded into an endless cycle of being out of time and yuuta was there, nervously watching as you imploded in on yourself from the sidelines. it wasn't that he didn't want to help, it was that he couldn't find a way to fit himself into your life anymore— and that was worrying to him. the early morning conversations over coffee were traded in for an extra hour of sleep, late night conversations barely left the drawing board since your eyes shut as soon as your head hit the pillow, and weekends were reserved for recovering after missions. he felt trapped between a rock and a hard place, but you were still acting as if your couldn't sense his inner turmoil. hell, maybe you couldn't— not while being halfway to dreamland. you'd just asked him how his day was, and now you were barely conscious.
“no, honey, i'm listening. go ahead..” you mumbled, stirring in his arms with a couple lazy blinks that were all too long. however, you could almost sense the frown tugging at yuuta's lips, raising a hand to gently pat at his cheek in the darkness “see? awake.”
yuuta let out a quiet huff, a little disappointed while simultaneously amused with the drowsy state of your mind “it's fine, baby. you need rest, i'm sure you have another long day tomorrow.” he stated, pulling you closer by the waist, pressing his cheek affectionately against the top of your head. defiant, you grumbled in protest while shimmying closer to him (that wasn't supposed to prove anything, he was just warm), fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt near his shoulder “no.. we barely talk these days. i wanna talk now.”
yuuta's heart fluttered at the words, a gentle smile creeping up on his lips. your words were always reassuring to him, whether intentional or not. in his eyes, you wanting to hear him out even while half asleep was basically you wanting to get married tomorrow. he couldn't help but nuzzle his cheek against your head at the thought “you need rest. we'll talk tomorrow when you get home.”
the last thing he heard was a grumble, then a small huff of acceptance before your consciousness slipped away. somehow, within a minute, your breathing evened out and you were well on your way to r.e.m sleep. yuuta smiled softly, running his fingers through your hair. maybe adulthood wasn't all bad.