Chapter 1: A Pact
Chapter Text
There was a strange feeling that formed inside of Megumi when he saw that Yuuji was in fact, alive.
In truth, it reminded him of the same emotion that had surged from somewhere, a place he kept deep and hidden, when the man had died at his feet.
‘Live a long life...’
It was an innate, all-consuming desire to keep Itadori safe - to protect him from returning to that numbing reality of death - and out of that need, a plan was borne.
A ‘fail-safe’ of sorts - a measure to keep Itadori breathing if his heart was ever ripped clean from his chest again.
It was the sole reason he found himself staring at the knob of Yuuji’s door, his unsteady hand latched tightly around the metal, blue eyes boring down at his own dim reflection across the tin.
No going back now.
He twisted his way inside, soundless, sweeping his gaze over the expanse of the room.
He took note of the familiar posters scattered over the walls - pictures of all-but-topless women, a well-worn calendar, and random, hastily written notes thumbtacked into the plaster.
A growing pile of dirty clothes melded into the floor, and the soft rise and fall of Itadori’s chest beneath the bedsheets caught his eye.
He sighed, the faint movement bringing him a small, comforting relief.
“Looks like my hunch was right.”
He instinctively tensed.
The voice was deep, smug, much too proud for Megumi’s blood not to run just a little hotter through his veins.
Though he was surprised - first that the curse had been able to sense his presence despite being suppressed and second that Sukuna could emerge when Itadori wasn’t conscious.
“It’s awfully late to be sneaking in here, don’t you think kid?”
He exhaled, then took a deep breath, reminding himself once again what was more important than his ego.
The shaman glanced up, locking gazes with a pair of orbs that were burning.
Sukuna had the most intense eyes he'd ever seen, so fiercely sharp. 'Red' didn't even cover the way the curse’s irises swirled with varying shades of anger, lust, and rage, and danger, even patience if you looked hard enough.
The curse’s lips curled into a smirk, chastising Megumi with his obvious amusement.
He felt a vein pop in his temple.
“I’m not a child.” The shaman corrected, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he tracked the curse’s movement.
The man shifted upright, swinging himself into a seated position at the edge of the bed, elbows rested on his knees.
“Hmm?” he hummed, “coulda fooled me.”
Megumi’s eyes narrowed a fraction, opting to remain neutral despite the taunting jab.
“I have a proposition for you.”
The curse’s eyes flickered with a spark of intrigue, sharpening with focus.
“I’m listening,” he grinned, head tilted slightly to the left.
Sukuna made a show of running all four eyes down Megumi’s body and back to his face, before adding,
“I guess it’s no wonder you didn’t start crying for the brat to switch out from the start; clearly this is something you’re trying to hide.”
The shaman ignored the hair raising on the back of his neck, justifying the physiologic response as a simple reaction to the chill in Yuuji’s dorm. He should’ve expected that the curse would figure him out right away, he was annoyingly perceptive unlike his counterpart.
Sukuna’s lingering voice was sharp as a blade in Megumi’s ears as the student shifted on the balls of his feet - an attempt to disguise his growing discomfort.
“I’m serious.” He affirmed, willing the humiliation he felt as he bowed his head towards the King of Curses to vanish.
“Please, sa-”
“Not so fast.” Sukuna cut him off abruptly, chin rested comfortably atop tattooed knuckles as he stared Megumi down.
A wicked gleam shone in his eye, both orbs flooded with a tainted kind of mirth.
He was having fun with this…Megumi realized.
The curse uncrossed his legs and pointed to the floor, finger twirling over the area in front of him with a crooked smile.
“Before you go spouting off requests like I’m some miracle-maker, why don’t you beg me properly, shaman?” he snickered, clearly expecting to garner a reaction.
To his surprise, Megumi didn’t argue, instead, he did exactly as he’d been told.
His legs bent, knees sliding down to the ground; his tall form folded in half as he he flattened.
Interesting , the curse thought.
“Please,” Megumi repeated, shifting closer until his forehead brushed along the tatami.
The genuine show of submission only served to entice Sukuna further - he loved finding a good pet to entertain him.
“Save Yuuji again if a time comes where me or my classmates can’t protect him.”
An unsettling silence followed Megumi’s request, his heart quaking, the fear of rejection sparked as he waited for Sukuna’s answer patiently.
The latter could tell he was nervous, noting the slight trembling of the shaman’s back and hopeful, devastatingly innocent expression on his face - and despite the likelihood that the curse would say ‘no’, still Megumi remained prostrated.
So obedient, he mused.
“And if I do?” he asked, brow tugged upwards.
“What compensation would I get for doing something so pointless?”
Megumi grit his teeth, jaw locking - he knew the answer he’d settled on was possibly the most shameful one he’d ever give.
He had to offer something enticing enough that Sukuna wouldn’t blatantly reject it, but it needed to be something that wouldn’t run out - just in case the curse demanded some kind of daily reparations - something that was...desirable.
So, the best he could come up with was…
“My body.”
Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I’ll give you my body in return for saving Yuuji’s life.”
He drew in a stuttered breath, and added, “for as long you want, and for whatever purpose you deem fitting.”
Megumi strained to get out the words - grounding himself on the foundation that this was all for Yuuji - and lifted his head to meet Sukuna’s gaze with a firm, hellbent determination.
His pride as a man might’ve been in question, but his moral responsibility wasn’t.
He never wanted to watch the light leave his eyes again.
Ever.
“So please,” Megumi begged, “save him,” his knuckles turned white.
Sukuna remained stoic, save for the small nearly undetected smirk on his lips before a resounding cackle tore from his throat.
“Your body?” he emphasized, eyes pricked with tears.
“If the brat could hear you right now it would devastate him,” the curse chuckled, hinting at something more as he slapped an open palm against his thigh, starting to laugh in earnest.
The amused snickers filled the room, driving Megumi into a deeper conundrum as flashes of Yuuji’s bloodied, lifeless form came to the forefront of his mind.
The shaman remained still, knees frozen in place; brows furrowed into deep-set frustration.
His own weakness had let Yuuji down yet again, and because of that he’d be on his own, isolated.
Again…he was going to be all alone.
Lost in his thoughts, Megumi didn’t realize that the sounds of laughter had trickled into silence.
Didn’t catch how the King of Curses watched every one of the shaman’s mannerisms just a little too closely.
“I’ll do it.” The curse stated simply.
Megumi’s eyes widened a fraction, rapt with attention, his lips slightly parted as he looked up.
“What?” he faltered.
Sukuna glared back at him, the crimson slits in his cheeks watching deviously, malicious, hungry with the intent to possess him.
“I’ll play doctor to the brat so long as you hold up your end of the deal,” he rasped, teasing.
Megumi nodded, slowly, unsure of how steady his voice would be.
“…I-I will…” he agreed faintly, but his shaky words were all that Sukuna needed for the pact to be officially solidified.
“Well then...”
Sukuna grinned, pointed tongue darting out to slicken across his lips as he eyed the shaman, intently, now holding all the capability to devour him whole.
“…let’s get started, Megumi.”
Chapter 2: The First Time
Summary:
His senses were dazed enough that he hardly registered what was happening as his hips were raised and something hard pressed against him.
At some primal level, his body understood...
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sounds of uniform fabric ripping echoed across the room as familiar hands skimmed along the scores of Megumi’s newly exposed skin.
He stiffened out of instinct, muscles tensing, clenching his jaw as he felt Sukuna chuckle from behind him. Those patterned hands roaming down the unexplored terrain of his body.
They moved down his throat, over his collar, between every dip and curve throughout the ridges of his abdomen.
He flinched, startled by the sensation of warm lips lightly brushing atop his shoulder before violently jerking out of the curse’s grasp.
When he had offered his body to the King of Curses, this wasn’t exactly what Megumi had expected to happen. He hadn’t really considered that Sukuna would be interested in a man’s body in this way.
Seconds later Fushiguro was met with a sudden darkness, his vision blackened as Yuuji’s hands slapped over the sorcerer’s wrists – dark nails biting into flesh – and forced him down into the tousled bedsheets of his friend’s mattress.
A flicker of fear sparked inside his gut as he struggled for air. He was naked, bent over like a common whore, and oh so exposed.
Trembling, he felt a warm breath ghost across the shell of his ear.
He could not believe he, of his own accord, had agreed to this.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” devilish lips spoke as they fettered along the sensitive skin “the more you resist the rougher I will be with you.”
The threat plunged through Megumi like cold steel, leaving him to shudder as Sukuna laved his wet tongue across the boy’s nape; a soft gasp torn from him as teeth dug into the vulnerable area.
“I’m not…afraid…of you.” He grit quietly, turning so that he could shoot the demon an icy glare.
The larger man snickered above him.
“Is that so?” He challenged, eyes glinting dangerously in the shadows.
Megumi flipped over to lay on his back - now face to face - and felt his breath hitch, caught somewhere in his throat as he saw it.
Resting atop the mattress, closer than Megumi was comfortable with, was Yuuji’s cock.
It was longer than his…hard…and unfairly thick.
He swallowed nervously.
How could he fit that inside of him?
Sukuna stroked over the length with a few lazy twists, sporting a knowing grin - one dripping with tainted seduction as he took in Megumi’s initial reaction.
Not…possible. The shaman thought frantically, his legs nearly clamping shut before Sukuna tore them apart, holding them open, the force of his grip sending shocks of pain through the shaman’s hips as each leg was pinned.
Sukuna moved himself into the space between them, thumbs rubbing circles into the quivering muscles beneath the boy’s pale skin.
“I wonder,” he murmured; voice saturated with blood-lust as he slotted his cock in the curve of Megumi’s arse, “how badly would it hurt if I put it in just like this, Fushiguro?”
“Think you’d tear?” the curse added, his grip tightening.
Megumi tensed as Sukuna thrusted against him experimentally, their hips slapping together as the curse let out a faint sigh with the friction it created.
He started a sloppy, uncoordinated rhythm, enjoying the panicked expression on Megumi’s delicate features as he laid helpless beneath the larger man.
The shaman felt lost, blushing even, as he realized just how obscene the sight he must’ve made was. Spread and compliant beneath the King of Curses.
Even worse Megumi thought Sukuna was actually enjoying it, taking pleasure in frotting against him like some pent-up animal.
“That’d be nice…” the curse grunted, “seeing you bare and bloody…split open around my cock-”
Megumi felt the length throb against him – watching wide-eyed as the muscles in Sukuna’s neck strained, his lips curled upwards in a satisfied smirk.
Oh…why was he getting hard from that?
“You agree; don’t you,” Sukuna murmured, “Fushiguro?”
Megumi bit down on his tongue until he tasted metal, and willed all of the hatred he could summon to squash down the strange pang of arousal he seemed to feel at the curses threatening words.
“Do it.” He spat, “Go…ahead.”
Do your worst, he thought.
Sukuna’s gaze narrowed into slits, the previous smile all but gone as he leaned forward until they were almost nose to nose.
The shaman flinched back despite himself – expecting to be struck – but instead Yuuji’s hand simply slid along his cheek, cupping it with an unsettling gentleness as Sukuna observed him.
Megumi’s heart took off at a gallop as a calloused thumb brushed over his bottom lip, pressing down on the soft flesh.
“Open your mouth, and stick out your tongue,” the curse ordered, his words pure ice – a stark contrast the way he touched the shaman – each syllable working to cut through Fushiguro’s resolve like it was absolutely nothing.
This soft-handed treatment was by far more terrifying than any physical assault. It threw him off, made him nervous.
Reluctantly the boy obeyed, mustering enough courage to glare at the curse as he loosened his jaw and let it fall slack.
Those terribly gentle fingers shifted over his chin, slid across the wet expanse of his tongue, and then curled abruptly down his throat - effectively causing him to gag around the unexpected intrusion.
Choked and fighting for breath, he thrashed beneath the curse somewhat violently. He raked his dulled nails into the warmth of Yuuji’s forearm, scratching away bits of flesh as he tried to pull Sukuna off of him.
Sputtering, his throat convulsed around the offending digits as tears sprung and streaked down his cheeks unbidden.
He locked furious jade-colored orbs with the demon holding him down, shooting the man a final defiant glare as he surrendered instead of continuing to fight him, his body stilling.
Megumi’s mind slowly went blank the longer he went without being allowed to take in a breath, dark spots beginning to lap at his vision. Yet just as he thought he was going to lose consciousness, Sukuna flashed him a sadistic grin.
“There, there.” He cooed in mock sympathy, shifting his grip enough so that Megumi could inhale through his nose.
With the first painful intake, the shaman’s vision cleared instantly. His limbs were settled rigidly under Sukuna as he continued to cough without any luck at clearing his throat of the curse’s persistent fingers.
“Suck,” Sukuna ordered him, goading the boy with a twisted excitement as Megumi obeyed, chest filling with shame as his cheeks hollowed and spit drooled down his chin.
He felt dirty, somewhat depraved, and maybe, albeit concerningly, a little bit turned on – a thought he’d file for later revisiting - as he twisted his tongue around Yuuji’s knuckles, savoring the feel of the roughened skin on his tongue while eyeing Sukuna angrily through his wet lashes.
“Good,” the curse praised, his free hand rustling through Megumi’s raven hair, “are we listening now?” he chuckled.
The shaman focused on remaining calm while the curse continued to explore the curvature of his throat - barely managing to keep himself pliant.
“You deserve a reward,” Sukuna murmured sweetly. And Megumi quickly came to understand the implication behind his words when five warm fingers wrapped tightly around his own seemingly forgotten member.
“Focus,” The curse warned lowly when Megumi’s hips snapped out of reflex, “use that tongue for what it was made for.”
The tattooed fingers moved up to thumb at the slit of his head, applying just enough pressure that oh fuck-
A guilty coil of warmth formed in the pit of Megumi’s stomach as the fist around him continued without pause, his cock hardening regardless of whether he wanted it to, but for the sake of his own mind he consciously pushed the feeling down, giving over to what he’d literally begged for…to be used.
With his cock leaking over Sukuna’s hand, Megumi felt hopelessly weak to the pleasant ministrations as the curse pumped him faster, stroking him into submission better than any kind of savage beating would.
And gods it felt so good to just let go.
Sukuna was squeezing around him just tightly enough, pace set just quickly enough to have the shaman fastly approaching his end.
He’d couldn’t remember if it had ever felt this good when he did this to himself.
“Look at you,” the curse breathed against him, “trembling under my touch…how cute.”
Megumi shivered, desperately gripping at the bedsheets as the pleasure built and built.
“Don’t tell me this is the first time you’ve been touched like this?”
The shaman tensed suddenly, skin flushing a deep red that reached all the way to his shoulders as he shut his eyes tight, trying to drown out the unwanted surge of flustered thoughts. He didn’t answer, somehow embarrassed by his own inexperience even in front of the age-old entity currently stroking his cock.
Sukuna also remained strangely quiet at the silent revelation - so much so that Megumi dared to glance up at the demon’s face, breath hitching at the odd look he found there. It was an expression of intrigue mingled with some kind of predatory ambition - almost as if the new information pleased the curse.
“Just full of surprises,” the larger man grinned, leaning down to whisper directly in the boy’s ear, “aren’t you, Megumi?”
The words caused the hot coil burning in Fushiguro’s gut to snap, and he arched up into Sukuna’s palm without warning.
The fingers in his mouth pulled away in the midst of his gasps as he spilled everything, coming hard across the curses fingers as his head clouded with a pleasant haze that left him somewhat dizzy.
His spent member twitched with a residual jolt of pleasure as strong arms easily flipped him onto his stomach, his over-sensitive cock brushing along the sheets beneath him.
His senses were dazed enough that he hardly registered what was happening as his hips were raised and something hard pressed against him.
At some primal level, his body understood as the tip of Yuuji’s cock pushed through that taut ring of muscle at his entrance. His mind not consciously aware of what was occurring until the rest quickly followed – invading him all at once.
Overwhelming…
“Ah, shit,”
So…painful…
“should have guessed you’d be this tight without being stretched.”
Any lingering feelings of bliss were instantly extinguished at the first forceful snap of Sukuna’s hips into him - the sensation quickly bleeding from pleasant to painful.
A choked gasp was all he could manage as the air was knocked out of him repeatedly with each excruciating thrust.
“…s-sto-…st…op…stop!..”
It was too much. Too painful in a way he hadn’t experienced beforehand.
He screamed, struggled against the curse as he was fucked deeper into the mattress - his body seizing from the pain of the sudden intrusion as he felt Sukuna move inside of him.
Burning, ripping, tearing…he was powerless to do anything but lay there and take it, unable to get away.
“…wait...p-please…” he sobbed, tears stinging his rims, spilling over as Sukuna pounded into him even harder, holding him down by the neck with one hand, while the other forced his hips back into each one of the curses thrusts.
It hurt it hurt it hurt it hurt –
“I-I can’t!” he wailed; his agonized cries only silenced with a patterned hand clamping across his mouth.
There was a brush of lips along his shoulder, and a sharp nip at his racing pulse as he felt Sukuna’s breath at his ear once again.
“You can, and you will.”
The heavy words bound him as the tears slowly dried on his cheeks.
Just as Sukuna had said, Megumi endured, the sharp pain eventually dulling and leaving the shaman with a sore ache that burned inside as minutes passed before Sukuna finally neared his own end.
The curse’s thrusts fell out of normal rhythm, and his breathing labored as he curled flush atop Megumi’s backside, both hands molding dark bruises into the bulk of his shaking thighs as Sukuna’s fingers dug into them, gripping tightly.
The larger man pushed himself deeper inside of Megumi until he was sheathed all the way to the base, as far as he could reach, and stilled.
The shaman felt every throb - every pulse of the curse’s cock along the walls of his ravaged insides, whimpering at the warmth that flooded within him.
It’s over, he thought.
A sickening trickle of Sukuna’s seed started to drip down the backs of his thighs, leaking around the curse’s softening cock.
He felt a soft kiss be placed at his temple as a final thrust of effort rocked into him, and then heard an unpleasant squelch of sound as Sukuna pulled out of him - leaving him utterly void.
Aside from the emptiness left with him and the dull thrum of discomfort creeping through his joints, what Megumi didn’t expect, was the sudden wave of vulnerability that crashed over him, filling his lungs with emotions so intense that he couldn’t breathe.
It was as if he’d been cracked wide open, as if every one of his defenses had been infiltrated, slipped beneath in the most intimate way.
He flinched away from the large hands that guided him to lay on his side.
The rush of feelings catching him so off guard that he found himself strangely grateful for the wrap of strong arms around his torso – holding him together as he was pulled under the cover of cotton sheets.
“Breathe,” A voice whispered all too softly into his ear as he sucked in a ragged breath, flinching at the soothing touch of fingers resting along his arm.
“Again,” the voice encouraged him, hands working through the tension boiling under his skin little by little. He sighed into the touch, slowly going limp in the security of the arms caged around him as the initial sense of vulnerability eventually faded.
Megumi faintly registered that the arms around him were Yuuji’s arms, even if the person in control of them was Sukuna, and that small comfort allowed him drift into an exhausted sleep – one deep enough that he just barely missed the low spoken praise murmured against his neck.
“You did well, Fushiguro.”
Notes:
Thank you guys for all your love! Hope you enjoyed this update! More to come! <3
Chapter 3: All of Your Pleasure...
Summary:
“All of your pleasure,” Sukuna looked up at him, “and all of your pain,” his eyes were low and hooded, “it comes from me.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
When Megumi woke up the following morning, he was back in his own room, nestled comfortably within clean sheets.
For a moment, he wondered if he’d imagined the previous night, but after shifting into a seated position he froze.
Nope, he thought, wincing, definitely not a dream.
Damn.
Groaning he slowly maneuvered himself out of the warmth of his bed and onto the hard floor, his legs shaking with the effort to hold him upright.
Every step he took sent tendrils of pain through his core as he made his way to the shower.
It was almost like he could still feel-
Like there was still-
He shook his head.
He was grateful for the quiet atmosphere as the water ran across speckled tile – the wet warmth was a welcome sensation as it ran through the strands of his unruly hair, slipping down his back and in between his toes.
The heat did wonders to soothe the different kind of ache in his muscles, and his hips, and…elsewhere.
Sucking in a breath he let his arm drift backwards, grimacing as he carefully started to explore the damage from his first night with the King of Curses.
His gut twisted as he felt the remnants of Sukuna’s cum dried along his thighs, moving further he hissed when a sharp burn stabbed through him, teeth clenched together tightly.
He bared with the pain long enough to assess that he had torn...and torn badly.
Tucking his lip between his teeth he got to work scraping and scrubbing away all evidence that the previous night had ever happened, shamefully putting antiseptic between his ass cheeks.
When he was done, he toweled off the remaining moisture left clinging to his body before catching sight of himself in the mirror.
Flushing a bright red, he scanned over what no amount of scrubbing could have washed down the drain.
Five suspicious bruises were imprinted over each one of his hips, fitting perfectly into the shape of Yuuji’s hands and fingers – those rough, gentle, painful, careful hands – not to mention the various bitemarks and hickeys sewn up and down his spine that he hardly recalled receiving.
He was definitely not going to be able to wear his summer uniform for some time while they healed.
Shit.
“You okay, Fushiguro?”
Megumi was uncharacteristically startled when Yuuji’s confused expression suddenly crowded his line of sight. The teens concerned expression making it suddenly hard to breathe, let alone answer his question.
“I-I’m...” a flash of sharp teeth and tribal markings over skin crossed through his mind, “fine.”
Yuuji looked unconvinced, regarding Megumi with a slight frown.
“You’ve been lagging behind me all day, are you sick?” The other boy reached out towards him, hand outstretched, and Megumi felt like he was right back in that dimly lit bedroom…being held down and ravaged bloody.
He smacked Yuuji’s hand away, his breath coming out in quick, labored efforts as he stumbled to move away from his peer, heart thundering in the process.
He wanted to snuff out whatever emotions were blocking his rational train of thought, as he murmured some half-assed excuse to Gojo-sensei and left the arena.
This was all so confusing.
He walked, pacing the halls of his dormitory as he tried to sort the unpleasant pile of clutter in his brain. He’d never reacted so strongly to Yuuji like that before. Was it fear?
The sex, the half-formed crush on his peer, how Yuuji seemed completely oblivious to the actions of his own body not even 24 hours ago...
How he’d been…he’d been inside Megumi…not even that long ago…
Fuck.
Now that he thought about it, how had Sukuna really possessed Yuuji’s body without the guy knowing?
Was Yuuji really such a deep sleeper that he didn’t even notice the shift in control?
Sure, he could be kind of dense but to sleep through taking someone else’s virginity?
That was just…
He stopped moving, felt the heavy way his heart pounded against his ribs.
That was unthinkable.
“Damn it!” He shouted, his hands ripping through his dark hair as his cheeks burned bright like embers.
Damn it all.
Hours later, after he’d already given in to an exhausted, tumultuous sleep, there was a small creak of his mattress.
It wasn’t hard to guess what was causing the slight dip in his bed, or whose eyes were hovering over his blanketed form in the cover of the night.
The answer was obvious, and he knew that…but for some reason, the knowledge did very little keep the sudden lightning bolts of fear from zipping through Fushiguro’s nerves.
Just because you knew what monster lurked in the shadows didn’t mean it didn’t terrify you.
“You’re awake.”
The deep rasping voice made him jump, only slightly, but the involuntary response served to fuel him with a vindictive plume of anger.
“I’m not.” He spat back at the curse.
The words were childish, he knew, but there was little else his jagged thought process had to offer when every tendon in his body felt as though they could snap at the slightest provocation.
A warm hand draped over his shoulder, causing him to gasp – tension boiling deep in his gut.
His whole body jerked from the stimulus, recoiled as he flattened himself against the wall in seconds, all anger stomped out, bravado abandoned, breathing hard and fast.
“You’re afraid of me.” The statement came out of the curse’s mouth sounding somewhat impressed, a mocking admiration of his common sense.
Who wouldn’t be afraid of a demon that’d just fucked you bloody?
The comment was jolting enough though, to bring Megumi to turn from the safety of the wall and meet Sukuna’s gaze.
He found that the curse was smiling back at him.
“It’s good to be frightened,” his voice dripped with unspoken promises of pain, “it’ll help you remember your place.”
The words came softly, cruel, a low blow to the shaman’s defenses with the way that they wormed underneath his skin.
He stilled as a hand settled – warm, gentle, threatening – in his sleep-tousled hair; calloused fingers stroking through it in a manner that was so mercilessly soothing.
Megumi’s heart was racing; and he hated himself – a little – for wanting to lean in and soak up the brief, gentle feeling.
He was sure that it might be the only faint imitation of comfort he experienced for the rest of the night if the previous evening was anything to go by.
Sukuna was powerful - in more than just a sheer physical sense – he had subdued Fushiguro all too easily with a mere touch, a flicker, a memory of the potential to inflict pain that he held.
It was insulting.
“If…” Megumi’s voice fell short, the hand on his head stilling mid-stroke.
The words he wanted to speak remained frozen on his tongue; suspended, as he mulled over the possible consequences of angering the curse.
Sukuna remained vigilant, observing the obvious fear swirling in Megumi’s pale blue orbs, the rapid rise and fall of his chest, or the way he hadn’t pulled away from his touch…just yet.
His head tilted, a smirk forming as he watched the thoughts race through the shaman’s mind.
And then…an amusing flicker of defiance brewed in the boy’s icy gaze that made the curse’s mouth water.
He so loved a challenge.
“If you’re going to use me, just fucking do it already. Don’t make me endure your presence any more than I’m obligated to.”
He blurted the words out all at once, shuddering under the curse’s amber eyes as they narrowed.
A patterned arm shot down to yank Fushiguro’s wrists forward, sending him spluttering onto shaking hands and knees as he scrambled for purchase.
His injured body wailed; twinging with the sudden, abrupt movements. His anticipating fear had not dulled the residing pain in the slightest.
Megumi’s heart flung itself against his chest so forcefully that he was sure his ribs would bruise as Sukuna hovered ominously behind him.
“Spread your legs.” He commanded coldly; the humor drained from his voice.
Megumi obeyed silently; lip tugged between his teeth, bitten until there was blood as he screwed his eyes shut.
There was a slide of tan skin over pale, then the feeling of fingers as they curled around his waistband before slowly pulling the fabric down.
The clothing pooled around his knees, and he bit down harder.
Hands settled on his ass cheeks, and his body started to shake – it knew what was going to happen, how it would happen, what it would feel like as it happened again.
“Show me.”
He huffed, utterly humiliated - trembling like a coward as he spread his thighs apart further.
No matter how noble the reason, Megumi felt that becoming anymore of an embarrassment than this would surely break him apart – leave him ripping at the seams.
He felt Sukuna’s thumb ridge along his torn entrance, forcing a pained hiss from between the shaman’s teeth as it seared at the touch.
A few more minutes passed of Sukuna’s silent, invasive, prodding at the damage he’d done before Megumi heard the curse speak aloud once again.
“Looks like I really did a number on you, given that it was your first time,” he boasted proudly, squeezing his bruised flesh while the shaman remained silent.
“I bet right here still remembers my shape,” he murmured, a finger teasing at the puckered, reddened flesh.
Megumi clenched his fists a little tighter, knuckles turning white as he withheld from lashing out.
The demon brushed across the shaman’s hips without missing a beat, his touch mirroring the spots that bruises had been left behind on his thighs, over all of the places that marks had been littered over his pale skin.
Then, Sukuna’s hand retreated, moving instead to lay flat atop Megumi’s lower back, pressing down with little force.
“Stay still.” The order came right in his ear before the shaman felt a bizarre hum of warmth spread over his skin.
The unique sensation spread throughout the parts of his flesh that had been injured – repairing, mending, knitting him back together as if no damage had occurred to begin with.
“W-What’re you doing?” Megumi asked incredulously.
“Healing you.” The curse answered him as if it was obvious, as if it was fucking normal to be spread eagle with a malevolent cursed spirit between your legs, healing your torn asshole.
“But…why?” He questioned cautiously, still unnerved by his position.
The strange warmth began to recede as the curse tugged his pants back into place, covering him in a strangely intimate gesture before rolling the shaman over and onto his back.
Seeing the curse face to face, Megumi found himself wondering how a being so adept at torture had eyes that were currently looking down at him with so much softness.
It seemed so real, honestly.
He almost forgot that those kind eyes didn’t belong to Sukuna at all.
They were Yuuji’s eyes, just like this was Yuuji’s body.
He wished, only for a second, that it really was Yuuji who was hovering above him and not just his possessor. And he lingered on that thought just a little too long before shoving it down somewhere deep where nothing would be able to touch it.
“I don’t owe you any explanations for what I do and don’t do.”
Sukuna’s voice was grounding, a welcome distraction from the tangled mess of emotion building in his chest - one that he’d been ignoring for the better part of the year.
“I will have you” Sukuna threatened easily, “in whatever way I want,” he reminded while keeping his voice low and chilling.
“If I choose to restore you that doesn’t change the fact that I might take you apart again all the same.”
Any smart retorts Megumi had to serve as a reply died on his tongue as the curse began to tease under the hem of his shirt.
“Afterall, you’re mine now, shaman.”
A smirk formed as the larger man said it, his lips curling around the syllables of Megumi’s title like it was some kind of delicacy.
“That was the deal.”
Megumi sucked in a breath as a blackened nail flicked over his nipple, scratching lightly, “you can pretend that you hate this,” a finger traced the line of his jaw, “but by the time I’m done you’ll be completely ruined on your own, Fushiguro.”
His eyes widened as Sukuna’s nose brushed across his collar, arms patterned with black ink caging around his hips – the curse dipped down further, tongue trailing over his navel.
“All of your pleasure,” Sukuna looked up at him, “and all of your pain,” his eyes were low and hooded, “it comes from me.”
An unexpected, slightly betraying shudder coursed through Megumi at the sight below him - his mind still trying to put together the pieces of what was actually happening.
“For tonight,” a banded hand slipped beneath his waistband, “let’s focus on pleasure.”
His traitorous cock twitched at the words, mind spinning because it was Yuuji’s face that was looking at him like that, it was Yuuji’s teeth tugging down his underwear in such a primal…feral manner.
Then it hit him – cemented in his brain – as the curse pulled his half-hard length from its confines.
“Wait-hah!” he started, but could only gasp when Sukuna flicked his tongue along the underside of his shaft. The curse’s hot breath was tantalizing over him as brutal hands pinned his hips against the mattress to keep him still.
Sukuna’s tongue was hot around his cock, pressing along it, licking, making him leak profusely as it teased him with a ghost of a rhythm.
Megumi’s thighs shook at the new sensation.
“D-Don’t…ah…don’t…” he protested weakly, gritting his teeth against the pleasure.
He wanted so badly to throw his head back and close his eyes – pretend it was the real owner of those sinful lips sucking him off – but he couldn’t keep himself from staring at the very real demon sinking down every inch of him, devouring him whole without hesitation.
Sukuna’s tongue swirled around the head of Megumi’s cock, fitting his lips around the shape as it was pulled into the wet enclave of the curse’s mouth.
He gasped, shivered – it was so, so warm.
The curse sucked, cheeks hollowing, pointed tongue digging into the weeping slit at the tip of his length that had his toes curling painfully tight while he shuddered.
The shaman’s fingernails dug into mangled linens strewn beneath him, his hips fighting the urge to buck into the tight, wet walls surrounding him when Sukuna reached for his wrists, and guided them back to the top of his head, smirking around him.
Megumi’s heart thundered, stomach doing loops as he ran his fingers through each vibrant strand on the curse’s head.
He wondered, briefly, how much longer he would last when the hot coil in his gut was already on the verge of exploding, he didn’t get much of a chance to find out as Sukuna sank down even further – quick and messy – taking him all the way into his throat.
Oh, fuck—
“Nghh…gods I’m-!” Megumi babbled, his grip tightening in Sukuna’s hair as he burned the image of the way the curse’s lips stretched over him into memory.
“Su…kuna…I’m-hah-gonna..”
The curse hummed around him, and he’d been trying not to come but couldn’t help it when his hips tried to stutter forward - bucking against the hands holding them down – his fingers fisting into the hair underneath them with a bruising force.
Sukuna hummed again, lower this time, and the vibrations around Megumi's sensitive cock suddenly made him tense, snap, except…
He couldn’t find his release. That need to finish so intense it made his eyes burn with unshed tears.
There was a pressure squeezing around him at the base, so tight it was almost painful.
He whined when the pleasant warmth of those soft lips left him, popping off with a lewd sound and leaving him needing.
“w…why?” he asked, too desperate for release to be embarrassed at how fucked-out his voice sounded.
Sukuna grinned, his lips pinker than Megumi had ever seen them.
“You’ll come when I tell you to.”
The shaman watched as the curse licked over his lips before undoing the front of his own pants - a smug gleam in his eyes as he pulled himself free, his cock resting heavy along his thigh as he pulled Megumi closer, seating their hips flush together.
“Good,” he purred, voice dropping an octave as the shaman’s clothes were discarded completely, leaving Fushiguro bare.
“You’re being so good for me, Megumi.” Sukuna praised, kicking his own pants away, and standing at the edge of the bed, dragging the shaman with him.
Megumi knew he should've been panicking at that moment, that he shouldn’t have been staring with interest at the black ink that decorated so many parts of Sukuna’s tanned skin - but he couldn’t bring himself to struggle.
Even as he watched the curse coat some strange, warm liquid over his fingers and slather them over his cock he was paralyzed, captivated, hard and twitching in anticipation.
A sudden pressure had Megumi sucking in a sharp breath as two fingers pressed inside him - the boy’s shoulders hunching forward with the new, rapid, stretching sensation.
“Don’t worry,” Sukuna murmured above him, “you’ll get used to it.”
The assurance did little for Megumi's body - there was a slight burn as Sukuna's fingers made criss-crossing motions, moving inside him, forcing his walls to accommodate more.
It was all happening so fast that he didn’t have time to anticipate what he'd feel next - a spark of pleasure, or a twinge of pain.
A cry was lost somewhere in this throat when Sukuna pushed in a third finger, all of them splayed and sending a jolting sensation through Megumi’s entire body as they hit something that had him writhing beneath the curse's heated gaze.
Sultry, filthy noises began trickling out of the shaman’s mouth as he reached out for something to grab onto. Something to keep him grounded.
“Relax,” Sukuna ordered him - though his tone was lacking in any heat.
Faint touches ghosted over Megumi’s body, persistent fingers pressing against that magic spot inside him as the curse’s hand gently squeezed around his cock until he was back to a gasping, breathless, wreck.
“You know,” Sukuna whispered to him, lining himself up at the shaman’s entrance “even if you were to run away,”
Something between their gazes singed as they bore into one another.
“I’m apart of you now.”
Wrong, his legs were quivering.
You’re wrong, his thighs fell apart, heels resting on the backs of Sukuna’s thighs as he felt the man’s cock press against him.
“...no...” Megumi whimpered, nails digging into the hard flesh of Sukuna’s shoulders as the curse leaned in, pressing the shaman deeper into the mattress.
His chest was flush against Megumi’s, draped over him as he steadily rocked his hips forward, sliding in further until he was completely sheathed inside.
“You’ll be screaming 'yes' by the end of this, Megumi.” He grinned, nuzzling into the sorcerer’s nape as he began a steady motion.
Those awful hands slid up the shaman’s arms, twining their fingers together as he planted either of Megumi’s wrists against the bed near his face, locking them as lips curse dipped down to suck reddish purple marks up Megumi’s throat.
It all felt so different from last time, so much more...grating on his emotions than it was physically painful.
And as he keened and whined beneath the demon, it dawned on him that he didn’t hate this...not his body anyway.
It didn’t hurt, it wasn’t some violently forced submission, it was like...
Oh god, Megumi realized, wishing he could throw his arms over his cheeks to hide the heat brightly blooming across them, it’s like he’s...it’s like we’re making love.
“Please…” he choked out a gasp, pleading, suddenly desperate for some kind of pain to dull the slow-build of pleasure simpering through his core, “make it hurt...I-I want it to hurt.”
He needed something, some shred of wrong in the way Sukuna was holding him that he could cling to, ground himself on - something that could make his hatred resurface and drown out all of the good.
“Shh,” the curse hushed him, shifting his grip to card a hand through the shaman’s disheveled raven locks.
The pleasure didn’t stop, “just lay back, and enjoy what I give you.”
Sukuna maintained the same slow, drawling pace - making sure that Megumi felt every single inch of his girth with each grinding stroke.
His cock brushed along something electric inside Megumi every so often, and each time Sukuna hit it, it made him his back arch upwards, muscles taut and flexing as his breath hitched.
And Sukuna was reaching that spot more and more frequently as the time passed.
The shaman was trying to keep himself from meeting the curse’s thrusts halfway, trying to maintain any semblance of dignity that Sukuna hadn’t already trampled over but he was fighting a losing battle.
He thought that now he understood what Sukuna had meant when he talked about pleasure like he did pain.
This kind of lust-drunk feeling seeping into his bones was it’s own kind of torture...
And, he was sure that this was hell - the sweetest kind of hell he’d ever be in; for sure, but still hell all the same.
It was maddening to know just how powerless he was to do anything about it, even when he tested the grip on his wrists Sukuna’s hold on him was firm.
How was he supposed to guard himself against such gentle, feather-light attacks? This wasn’t a brawl, or sorcery.
Worse still, the longer it went on, the more Sukuna seemed to know what the shaman needed to keep him right on that euphoric edge.
It was obvious from the way his deep voice spilled warm and affectionate phrases low in the shaman’s ears, praising him for being so good.
Megumi didn’t even realize that he’d wanted, so badly, to be told that he was good until it happened. Until his heart stuttered from the phrase.
“Perfect,” The curse urged when Megumi moaned freely, “just like that, I wanna hear every filthy sound you make Fushiguro.”
Teeth dragged across the contour of his throat, kisses littered over his collar bone, a tongue laved over his jaw with canines digging lightly into the prominence.
“Sukuna…” Megumi whined the next time he felt the curse bottom out - any coherent thoughts he may have had were fading as he breathed in Yuuji’s heady scent.
“...wanna come...please...” He begged, wanting nothing else than for the remnants of reason in the back of his mind to drown out with his release.
“No,” the curse grunted sharply, driving his hips down harder, “not yet.”
Tears welled up at the corners of Megumi’s lids, falling silently as Sukuna allowed him to wrap his arms around the back of his neck, clinging tightly as his back arched off the bed, melding into the curse’s body.
“Please...” he whimpered, straight into the larger man’s ear, and felt how the cock inside him throbbed in response.
The curse swore under his breath, pace growing faster, harder, more erratic as he spouted the order, “…again, say it again, beg me.”
“P-please let me come-I wanna come—”
The shaman’s mouth fell open in a silent scream when Sukuna bit down on him, hard, sinking his teeth in as he pulsed inside of Megumi. The curse’s muscles shivered beneath the shaman’s hands with each thrust as he worked himself through his release.
Megumi observed breathlessly, memorizing the expression Sukuna made as he came - the taut clench of his inked jaw, the slight scrunch of his nose, his eyebrows upturned instead of furrowed.
It made something in his own gut twist, knowing he was the reason behind it, that him and his body had been what caused the demonic spirit to mumble incoherent curses as pleasure ran through him in waves.
“Come for me,” Sukuna strained, locking their gazes, his roughened voice rumbling against the shaman’s chest, “right now.”
The permission was all Megumi seemed to need to tip over the edge. His cock twitching violently against his stomach, back slightly arched as hot, white ropes painted his sweat-covered skin.
He felt the burn of sadistic red eyes on him and it only made the subsequent high he rode all the sweeter before starting to come down - leaving Megumi a boneless, thoughtless, properly fucked mess in the curse’s hands.
Sukuna leaned down to swipe the hair back from his forehead, pressing a quick kiss to the crown before pulling out of him in one swift motion and dropping down next to the shaman.
“Good boy,” he whispered at Megumi’s back, his lips tugging upwards at the visible shivers the praise sent through the boy.
The shaman bit his lip as his senses were slowly returned to him. He was flushed all over, eyes clenched shut as he turned around, pressing his lips to the corner of Sukuna’s mouth in a chaste, mindless gesture while his brain was still one with the clouds.
Sukuna smirked against him, throwing both patterned arms around the shaman and crushing him against Yuuji’s well-built form. He was too far gone to mind the feeling of cum dribbling lewdly out of his hole, or the slight ache in his hips that he was sure would still be there in the morning.
All he wanted in that moment, was to sink into the safety of those arms - those strong, inviting arms - and forget about everything else but the blissful momentary silence humming through his mind.
Because leaving this pleasure-hazed space would mean trying to reconcile with the one fear he couldn't push away.
How would Yuuji react if he found out about this?
Notes:
Wow. Thank you guys for getting this story over 400 kudos!!! I can't wait to bring you more updates! R&R <3
Chapter 4: All of Your Pain...
Summary:
Oh...there it was again - that slow, unfurling emotion clawing up from his gut. A burning jealousy.
Notes:
Oh. my. word...We are at over 800 kudos!!! I am completely blown away guys! THANK YOU! You've almost put this story in the #1 kudos spot for Jujustu Kaisen works! So, as part of my gratitude, please enjoy this update! <3
Chapter Text
Something’s wrong.
That was all Yuuji could come up with when Fushiguro shoved his way past him, again, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his uniform, ice-colored eyes set forward.
Fushiguro had always been a bit quick to snap, to chastise him, correct him, smack him even at times.
He respected it, maybe even wished he could give off with the same ‘nonchalant-cool-protagonist-guy’ vibe.
But that wasn’t the same as this. It wasn’t the same as the way the guy was obviously avoiding him.
He seemed...off.
Yuuji couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason, but he’d have been blind not to see the subtle differences in Fushiguro’s typical act.
“Something on your mind?” Gojou said from behind him - making Yuuji realize he’d been standing there for some time, staring after the door that Fushiguro had walked through without sparing him a second glance.
He blinked; and turned to his teacher with a befuddled expression.
“It’s nothing, really.” He answered, a calloused hand carding loosely through his hair - knowing that for some reason, he really didn’t want to explore the strange tightness that strained in his chest when it came to his darker-haired classmate.
Gojou gave off an all-knowing smile.
“So, you’ve noticed it then.”
The way his teacher phrased it wasn’t a question, more like a fact. A statement.
And though Yuuji almost never did know what the hell his teacher was talking about – at times he even wondered if maybe he was some twisted version of God – this time, he was pretty sure he did. But it wasn’t something he wanted to admit.
“Noticed wha—” His words fell short when he saw his teacher wasn’t going to let him play ignorant - so, he took a breath, sighed, and tried again.
“It’s weird…with Fushiguro, I mean. He seems…”
Angry, pissed, irritable, moody, hates-my-guts-for-no-reason-at-all-lately – the choices ran through his mind before Gojou spoke for him.
“Scared?”
Yuuji’s eyes widened at that.
Fushiguro? Fushiguro, Megumi scared? -- of anything?
Not a chance, he thought, stifling an involuntary chuckle.
“Scared?” he parroted, tone reflecting his obvious doubt.
But when his teacher’s signature smirk faded, and his lips turned down at the ends, Yuuji began to wonder if he was, in fact, wrong about everything after all.
Gojou cocked his head to the side, shrugging as he moved the boy.
“So,” Gojou murmured, “you haven’t noticed.”
Before Yuuji had a chance to respond, to ask his teacher what the hell that even meant, Gojou vanished, warped out of sight just like he always did leaving Yuuji perplexed.
What was so bad that Fushiguro, of all people, was afraid?
He wasn’t sure he wanted to wait to find out.
Every so often, late in the nights when Megumi was bound by the vow he’d made, Sukuna would ask him a question; and it was always the same.
“Pain or pleasure,” red eyes, bottomless and burning observed him closely, “which would you prefer?”
The options were simple in theory, the problem, however, lied in that it gave Megumi a choice.
Sukuna smirked, no doubt enjoying as he watched his internal struggle while tangling long, familiar fingers into his hair.
Meanwhile, emotions swelled in the Megumi’s chest and threatened to rattle the shaman from the inside out. Heavy, weighing emotions - feelings so dense and full that they squeezed all the air out of his lungs, and threatened to crush his extremities one by one.
Because he had been given a choice, not just allowed to feign a simple acceptance of his own inevitable undoing. That knowledge only made the guilt he’d been carrying pile - being forced to pick whether he wanted the sex to be a sharp, wounding process, or a sinful…enjoyable kind of torture.
It was cruel, really, making him choose. Especially when it involved surrendering his body willingly. But he supposed that was the point.
Because the thing about surrender was, once he gave in, he would start to forget why he was ever fighting in the first place.
“Pain,” he decided easily, ignoring the way that Sukuna’s grin darkened.
Painted fingertips moved down, brushing gently against Megumi’s cheek and just barely skimming across his jaw, taunting him.
“Predictable,” The curse hummed, catching the shaman’s chin and wrenching it forward, making it so that they were face to face.
The shaman kept silent; his eyes trained defiantly on the floor; he wouldn’t give Sukuna anything he didn’t have to - not that easily anyway – but when the hand on his head tightened, yanking him back, Megumi was forced to meet his eyes.
The curse then spoke evenly, keeping his voice dropped low.
“Do you choose pain,” he asked, “because it’s less humiliating for you than admitting you’re feeling good by the hand of your enemy?”
“Or,” he murmured, leaning in close enough that the shaman momentarily panicked, thinking the curse might kiss him. But Sukuna tilted sideways just before their lips met, his sharp teeth grazing over Megumi’s throat, pausing where his veins roared the loudest, “is it because you actually like it when you’re being fucked senseless?”
The shaman’s mouth flew open in an instant, insults and denial ready to roll off his tongue; but before the words formed, he felt the slight prick of canines at his skittering pulse – pressing down hard enough to sting.
Fuck.
The response that came from Megumi as a result was a loud, slutty whine.
His blood burned as it piped through his cheeks, his veins, and across his flesh as he felt the start of a smile play across the curse’s mouth.
Sukuna pulled away, his pointed tongue flicking over the drops of crimson staining his lips, his grin stretching wider as he took in the shaman’s embarrassment.
“W-what kind of person would ever enjoy being subjected to pain?” Megumi spat at him, livid, hyper-aware of how rough his voice was starting to sound.
The curse conveniently pretended not to notice the shift, instead traversing the distance between them once again.
“The kind that understands that without it,” there was a sudden harsh pull on the threads of his scalp, “this becomes boring.”
Megumi refused to acknowledge the traitorous twitch of his cock as Sukuna stood to his full height; a patterned hand clutching his roots so hard that it hurt.
“Back against the wall,” his smile faded, “now.”
Megumi followed the order begrudgingly, shifting until his spine was flat against the plaster, glaring venomously as the curse observed his every movement.
“On your knees,” any traces of humor in Sukuna’s voice were replaced by a vaguely murderous undertone that had the shaman’s chest pounding – and he wasn’t entirely certain that it did so out of fear.
Jaw clenched; Megumi felt his teeth settle on the verge of shattering as he slid down to the floor, submitting to this…to him.
He’d grown to hate how familiar the bite of the tatami had become on his skin. Or how easy it was for him to follow Sukuna’s prompts like an obediently trained whore.
Nails biting into the meat of his palms, Megumi waited. He found himself caught off guard by the sudden backhand that came in lieu of further instruction.
Sputtering - too shocked to fully comprehend what was happening - he scrambled to stay upright as bits of blood flavored his mouth.
“I’m not going to take it easy on you tonight,” Sukuna growled, the words chilling as they rumbled in the shaman’s ear - he didn’t understand why being handled so roughly sent shocks of arousal straight to his groin.
“I’m not a—” Another resounding smack cut Megumi short, leaving the boy reeling and dazed, maybe even a bit dizzy from the force as he rallied from the blow.
He always forgot just how fucking strong Yuuji’s punches were, how much power was packed into those well-worked arms.
The grip on his scalp tightened again, an unspoken warning as Sukuna unzipped his fly.
“You asked for pain,” he growled, expression wicked as he pulled out his cock, “and you’ll get it.”
Megumi’s heart thundered, beating against his chest as the throbbing in his cheek stung, flaring hotter as another slap! landed in the same place.
He saw the sadistic glint in the Sukuna’s eyes - saw it spark into an all-out flame - as the curse moved in, inches away from him.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t speak as the tip of the curse’s length pressed against his lips.
“Open.”
A small, incandescent smile played across the curse’s face as the room echoed with slick noises.
Megumi’s mouth moved up and down his cock. All the air in the shaman’s tight little throat catching each time the curse forced himself deeper, the sounds of the boy gagging around the tip making it all the sweeter as Sukuna used his throat like a sleeve.
It reminded him of the first night they’d been together like this, how good it felt. Every time he touched the boy it sent tendrils of fire running through his veins.
Seeing a sorcerer as prideful as Megumi bent over, bare and vulnerable, weeping around his cock as he fucked him hard and fast; gods that was what he fucking lived for. And now - seeing the shaman staring up at him while panting, breathless, drowning in the hot saliva pooled around the girth of his cock, dribbling over his chin like sex-glazed rivers – it was as close as Sukuna thought he’d get to some version of heaven.
The only thing – he imagined - would make such a lovely image better, was seeing Itadori’s reaction to it.
Seeing that brat burn as he broke Megumi’s body to fit his shape, forced it into positions that would make him cry, beg, scream for mercy until he passed out…that would be fucking divine.
Though, for the moment, he just wanted to watch as the boy fought against his own carnal nature. For now, that was enough.
Grunting, he pulled out of the wet, sloppy heat between the shaman’s lips and tongue – noting how Megumi’s pupils had blown so wide that the blue was hardly visible.
Yet still, there was that sliver of defiance left in his icy gaze, a splotch in the design, the will to fight still flittering proud and clear
That’s it, the curse thought, his cock filling, keep on fighting me.
“Look at you,” Sukuna murmured in a saccharine voice, words dripping with mockery as he carded through the sorcerer’s raven-colored hair.
“Still acting awfully hostile, aren’t we?”
Megumi shot him a look, wiping his chin on his sleeve.
“Don’t call me by my first name,” he coughed in a hoarse voice, as the curse barked a laugh.
Without warning, he threw a knee into the shaman’s side, hearing the vibrant sounds of his bones creaking in the process while air shot out of his lungs.
As he gasped for breath between pained groans Sukuna knelt down to his level.
“I’ll call you whatever I deem fitting, Megumi,” he whispered darkly, pulling the boy upright.
Though it seemed he hadn’t broken the shaman’s spirit entirely. Because instead of going easily, Megumi chose to spit at him, with eyes steeled in a familiar hatred as he worked to catch his breath.
Sukuna felt a furl of challenge rise in his gut as he knotted his fingers into the boy’s roots, and slammed him back against the unforgiving wall roughly. He didn’t wait for him to suck in a breath before delving back into the warm, wet enclave between Fushiguro’s now splitting, blood-stained lips.
He was going to absolutely wreck him.
A long-suffering groan that attempted to crawl from out of the sorcerer’s mouth was muffled by the sounds of the boy choking on his cock - the sounds of Megumi’s struggle vibrated around Sukuna as he thrusted against his lips again, and again, hitting the back of the boy’s throat with a vicious snap.
It was intoxicating – having Fushiguro at his each and every whim - might as well have been his fucking birthright.
There was no other body that would satisfy him quite like this anymore, of that he was certain.
When he felt like teasing, the flesh grew hotter, cheeks flushing bright vermillion as he’d move slowly inside, arms clinging to his back, lips crying out for more, more, more; even still, if he felt like painting the walls red, it would tighten around him, squeezing, trembling as he ravaged it bare; laying broken and raw beneath his fists, waiting, daring him to do even worse.
Nothing else could compare.
Two-thousand years of abstinence had left him a starving man, and now he wanted to devour the boy.
Thin, glistening streaks littered either side of Megumi’s face, the skin underneath his long lashes was starting to look raw, and red - his eyes closed tightly shut.
Sukuna grabbed at the boy’s dark strands, roughly tugging until they fluttered open; his other hand gripping him by the chin.
“Look at me,” he demanded, a surge of heat spreading through the pit of his stomach as the shaman obeyed, instantaneous, looking at him with an expression that was so hopelessly, angrily clear.
There, he thought, keep your eyes on me, Megumi.
The curse let his hands drift over either side of the shaman’s jaw, sensing the strain in the muscles there as it worked to remain open for him.
“Good,” he praised, softer, groaning when he felt Megumi’s throat give him an involuntary squeeze – the hot walls caving in.
The shaman’s nose stayed nestled within the soft patch of hair dusting from the base of Sukuna’s groin to the navel of his stomach.
He slammed inside relentlessly; that defiant, sinful tongue curling around every sensitive vein ridged across his shaft – and soon, the world narrowed down to the feeling of dark hair threaded between his fingers, and heat building inside his gut as he watched the obscene way that Megumi’s lips wrapped around his cock.
He muttered a string of profanities as the boy continued to swallow him down, no hesitation even as his skull was bashed repeatedly into the plaster with each overly forceful thrust Sukuna gave.
Rooting around, the curse found Megumi’s hardening member, trapped between his thighs, and used his foot to press down just enough that the shaman winced.
He licked his lips.
“You’ve gotten hard just from sucking my cock, Fushiguro,” he teased, thumbs wiping the tears from the kid’s spiteful eyes as he continued at an erratic pace, “seems even when I beat you and shove my cock in your throat you still find some way to enjoy it.”
Dazed, the shaman remained pliant in his hands, the blue in his eyes only remaining in tapered slivers.
Megumi gave out a muffled cry when Sukuna kneaded his heel into the boy’s crotch, and there was another subsequent tightening of slick, warm flesh around his cock that left his hips stuttering – fuck.
He flashed a primal smile – full of teeth – toying with the shaman more earnestly, seeking that almost painful squeeze, as he gave the boy a degrading, cheaply-clothed imitation of what he craved.
“Pathetic,” he taunted, voice much too strained, “I mean, who would’ve guessed a pretty boy like you would turn out to be such a masochist.”
The shaman seemed to stir at that, glaring up at him in a way that was almost searing under those long-wet lashes.
That expression, surprisingly, sent him hurtling towards his finish - pushing down Megumi’s head as far as it could go while he came – pulsing on the boy’s tongue.
He curled possessively over the sorcerer while blunt nails clawed into the backs of his thighs - pleasure wracking through him as hot spurts streamed across the shaman’s throat.
Megumi whimpered, helpless, struggling under the crushing pressure atop his groin.
Only when the high faded did Sukuna loosen his vice on Fushiguro’s scalp, his softened cock falling from the kid’s bruised lips as he pulled back, panting slightly.
He studied the shaman, noting the slight tremors riveting through his clenched muscles, and used a thumb to smear some leftover cum across his cheek.
Gorgeous, he thought reverently, caught in the post-coital haze of his orgasm.
“Does it feel good,” the shaman asked brokenly, “knowing you came, just from shoving your cock down a man’s throat?”
Sukuna chuckled, tucking himself back into his pants, and bent down onto one knee.
“Look who’s talking,” he said, tracing over Megumi’s disheveled features with a smirk, “here you are, ready to blow, just from having a man shove his cock down your throat.”
The shaman shifted, pulling in his knees to try and hide the evidence of the full-scale erection leaking on the front of his clothes, folding his arms at the bend to hide his face from Sukuna’s sight.
Oh...we can’t have that.
He reached out, snatching a loose article from the ground, and flipping Megumi onto his stomach.
He forced the boy’s wrists to cross at his lower back and slid a loose tie into place before pressing a sweet kiss to the divot between his shoulders.
Knotting the bind he’d made, he moved then to Megumi’s nape, releasing the shaman with a nip before his hand dove South.
“Don’t hide yourself from me again,” he warned, velvet-toned, leaning back to take in the view - to watch Megumi tremble, holding himself on display, bound as surely as if he’d made a second vow.
“If you do, then I might just forget to take this off once we’re done.”
The shaman grimaced but didn’t turn away when Sukuna wrapped his hand around him, pumping slowly.
“Don’t...don’t you prefer women?” the boy stuttered, his question not at all surprising, though the curse saw it for what it was - a desperate attempt at distraction.
Sukuna grinned, tightening his grip.
“For some things,” he answered truthfully, captivated by the way the shaman’s eyes sharpened a little from pleasure-haze as he accidentally rocked into the curse’s fist, “but for this...” Sukuna’s free hand slid along the shaman’s chest, “I find the way men like you struggle against me somewhat addicting.”
He moved his hand a little quicker, and soon Megumi’s head was falling back, unable to keep his eyes trained on what was being done to him.
“I like it when they struggle.”
The shaman’s chest rose and fell quicker, faster, his hips snapped - bucking upwards into the tight grip of the curse’s hand.
“It’s so much better when they fight this."
He teased, rubbing a rough thumb over the boy’s weeping slit, drawing a strained moan from his battered lips.
“You’re fucking...in...sane.” He hissed, teeth grinding down into each other as he bit back a gasp.
"More insane than offering yourself to a known killer?” he murmured sweetly into Fushiguro’s ear, enjoying the way the sorcerer fought against his restraints in response.
“That was-hah-different,” he growled, brows screwed upwards in an expression that didn’t match his tone.
“Really? Because it seems far more reckless to me.”
He worked Megumi’s cock loosely, saw as the teeth gnawing on his lower lip tried to keep him from making sounds far more embarrassing than a proud shaman could accept.
“Shut...up.”
The cock in his hand was twitching.
“Oh? Close already?”
The sapphire eyes trained on him started to glaze over, rolling.
“N-no...”
Sukuna couldn't help but laugh.
“Mmm,” he hummed.
There was something about seeing the shaman fall to pieces by his hand that made his nerves sing - an unseen side reserved just for him.
“Guess I should go a little harder then.”
He pumped faster, twisting his hand just the right amount every time he reached the head, callouses scraping over the sensitive skin just below the slit.
“Ah!”
It barely took another half-dozen strokes before Megumi was coming undone, breathless, as his hips stuttered aimlessly, as if unsure of whether to chase the friction of the curse’s palm or push away from it completely.
The shaman let out a choked sound, riding out a final wave of bliss as Sukuna dragged out every remaining drop of his seed, letting it spill down the sides of his knuckles before stilling.
Fushiguro fell limp against the floor, every muscle in his body as firm as jelly as he sprawled, defeated, while the curse admired him fondly.
"Good boy,” he praised softly, noting the shiver that ran through Megumi at the phrase.
“Damn it....” the shaman whispered to no one in particular, beads of frustrated tears strung throughout his dark lashes as the curse stared contentedly.
“So, so good Fushiguro,” he murmured.
The phrase lingering as the shaman shook under the slight brush of lips across his neck.
And - oh...there it was again - that slow, unfurling emotion clawing up from his gut.
A burning sort of jealousy, that licked up Sukuna’s bones like flames to dry kindling, that unmistakable, squirming heat he’d been experiencing each time the fun between them ended for the night.
Unable to stop, he leaned over the sorcerer, drinking in the sight - so perfect beneath him, always so perfect, so unraveled - so entirely what he wanted to own and possess that it nearly drove him mad.
You’re mine.
Fushiguro watched him, half-lidded, eyes sharp as blades, like maybe he knew every one of the thoughts floundering in the curse’s mind.
Sukuna felt himself quiver.
Pushing the feeling down, he lifted the shaman easily, carrying his awkward form to the bed before laying him down, gently, leaving only to retrieve something that would clean the both of them up.
“I don’t understand,” Megumi spoke into the quiet,“you treat me like your own personal slave and then you...take care of me like this...I don’t get it.”
The curse turned, locking eyes with the shaman briefly before tearing away.
He opted to remain silent on the matter, instead favoring to wipe away all of the blood and body fluids clinging to the shaman’s pale skin.
“You’re a curse, and you’re...you’re evil, you’re not supposed to do aftercare. You’re supposed to fucking leave after you’re done; not, not this.” He chattered, incessant, curling into himself when his wrists were freed, rubbing at the bruises.
Sukuna ignored the implications, and continued his actions wordlessly, preening over the boy with soft-handed precision.
“Just now, that wasn’t...that wasn’t painful...so why-!”
Sukuna slapped a hand over the shaman’s mouth, finding the current topic annoying, and leaned in.
“There is so much more to pain than just flesh wounds, kid, and how well I’ve treated you…it should be called a kindness.”
He eyed the canvas of the boy’s skin taking note of every mark he’d left behind, as Megumi stared, dumbfounded.
“Would it make this easier for you,” he started, reaching for Megumi’s bruised wrists, and waiting until the shaman reluctantly surrendered them to his care, “if I acted like the monster you imagine? Fucking you into the ground and then leaving you there, bare and vulnerable for anyone to use as they like?”
“Would me fucking you be any less degrading?” Fushiguro simply watched as a faint red glow emitted from the curse’s fingertips, the power healing him.
“No...” he replied.
“No,” Sukuna mimicked.
He let his energy flow across the shaman until every last discolored portion of skin was repaired, and then pulled the smaller man into his arms - back to chest - holding tightly as he covered them both under warm sheets.
“Then don’t ever ask me a question like that again,” he warned, “or I might just live up to the expectation you have in your mind, Megumi,”
The fabric settled around them before he caught the the almost nonexistent mumble that came from Megumi’s lips.
“…what is it that you want…”
Instead of answering, he held the boy close, nuzzled into the back of his neck, and breathed in the scent that was clinging there.
You, he thought to himself, that jealous fire burning.
Only you.
Chapter 5: That Siren Sound
Summary:
"What happened next was not intentional, just the result that came from Yuuji’s sudden loss of balance."
Notes:
***SPOILERS WARNING***
Alrighty, first order of business - as you’ve probably guessed by now - this story does not strictly follow the JK manga BUT, I want to start incorporating more bits of it into this fic – particularly the itafushi / sukufushi interactions. That being said what you’ve read up to now can be considered a BIG ole’ stretch between chapters 31 & 32 of the manga if you tweak a few details; AND today we broach chapter 33! Therefore, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK for those who strictly watch the anime!
Secondly - please don’t hate me – today’s update is focused on the itafushi side of this story. I love building me some angsty sexual tension, plus, I felt it was about time to progress Yuuji’s character in this work; not to mention there's still a good deal of NSFW content in this chapter, so yay!
Third, HOLY SHIT we hit 1000 kudos and it’s all thanks to you guys! In celebration of that I have decided to make the next update extra-long and juicy, kekeke; but in the meantime please enjoy this one for now - set completely in Itadori’s POV!
P.S. your comments are LITERALLY the air I breathe - xoxo
Chapter Text
He had blood on his hands.
‘Death is the final destination of all people, but no two people will die the same death.’
He’d pulled the trigger on a person’s life, acted like God, and gotten blood on his hands.
‘Giving proper guidance to all of those souls is most likely a path of misery.’
Now he was drowning in it.
“Itadori.”
Yuuji stiffened when he heard it, turning slowly towards the person who’d named him, amber eyes stretched wider than normal as the dark thoughts scattered from his mind.
No one probably noticed the effect that such a simple greeting had on him, but he knew, and hell Sukuna probably knew too – he never could figure out exactly what, or how much the curse was able to feel inside his skin.
“Are you alright?”
Yuuji traced his startled pupils over his classmate’s appearance - noting the calm, mildly concerned expression on his friend’s face before he managed to formulate a response.
How long had it been since the last time he’d heard Fushiguro speak to him like everything was normal between them?
“Yeah, I think I got a big role,” he let a fake, placid smile slip into place as he spoke, “but it should be fine.”
Lingering still, was that new unfamiliar twisting in his gut, a tight coil of nausea lurking in his chest as he pictured the twisted up, mangled forms of the bodies he’d exorcised, saw the tears that Yoshino had shed out of fear in the backs of his lids each time he blinked.
He didn’t--no, couldn’t let himself acknowledge any of that though; there wasn’t enough time to sort it out when so many other people needed his help too - being a jujutsu sorcerer didn’t allow him the leisure to feel sickened by his own actions, or unsure of how to continue despite them.
“Not that,” Fushiguro said, breaking through his thoughts and pulling Itadori back to the present – though Yuuji refused to look at him, knowing Fushiguro could probably spot a poseur from a mile away.
He needed to keep it together…at least until after the exchange festival.
“Something happened,” a chill ran straight down Yuuji’s spine, “right?”
Fushiguro had him pegged.
He smiled wider, so wide that his eyes crinkled at the ends and obscured the way that some of the light had left them recently.
“Ah? No way, nothing.” He chuckled, lungs wrenching, the falsehood slipping from his lips all too easily.
He could feel Fushiguro staring back at him.
Despite himself he snuck a glance in the darker-haired boy’s direction, and felt his core suddenly lurch, shaken by how stripped he felt caught between the two of his pale icy depths, like Fushiguro saw him for the fraud he was – as if with those eyes he’d been splintered, ripped apart into two halves with just one look.
A liar and a scared, confused idiot.
He should’ve known better than to try and bullshit someone like Fushiguro in the first place.
“Something did,” he blurted abruptly, confessing, his bruised hand rising to rustle through his mussed hair out of habit.
“But I mean it when I say I’m fine.”
He didn’t.
“Rather, because of that, I feel like I really don’t wanna lose to anybody.”
He felt weak.
Out of his periphery, Fushiguro gave him a sharp look, considering, then after a beat the severity in it softened; dying down as he moved past Yuuji with a sigh.
Yuuji found himself grateful that his friend hadn’t pushed the issue any further, he wasn’t sure he could’ve taken it if he had, but Fushiguro was always good like that - knowing Yuuji’s limits almost better than himself.
“…then it’s fine.” The shaman muttered to him, pausing for a step once fully behind Yuuji’s back.
“I kinda don’t wanna lose either,” he added quietly, tone sounding almost petty.
And in an instant Yuuji felt all of the amassing guilt and shame that’d been roiling in his guts evaporate - replaced instead with a warm, familiar amusement.
He chuckled.
Fushiguro never changed.
And then a memory of his teacher’s words flickered through his mind.
‘So, you haven’t noticed.’
“Ah, wait!” he called out suddenly, turning to catch ahold of Fushiguro’s sleeve, tugging, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to check with you.”
Fushiguro yanked out of his hold, hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he glared back at Yuuji - looking strangely flushed.
“What?”
Since Fushiguro had pulled him out of the dark, now he felt it was his turn to payback the favor – if in fact Gojou-sensei was actually correct.
Yuuji might’ve been bad at lying to Fushiguro specifically, but he knew that Fushiguro was bad at lying to everybody else.
It was always written plain on his face, so long as you asked him the right question.
“Lemme look into your eyes,” Yuuji dead-panned.
Megumi gave him a disbelieving look.
“W-what? No!” He sputtered awkwardly, looking at Yuuji like he’d turned certifiable.
He held back a laugh thinking that maybe after everything that’d happened recently, he was.
“C’mon don’t be weird about it, just for sec, okay?” He pressed, causing Fushiguro to retreat even further, the boy’s throat making a noise of disgust.
“Why in the hell would I agree to that when you won’t even tell me why?!” He raised – valid in doing so – lifting his arms in front of his chest defensively.
Yuuji gave a long-suffering sigh, and clicked his tongue, determined.
“It won’t work if I explain so just,” his left hand shot out, “lemme—“, he managed to snag one of Fushiguro’s wrists as the boy wrestled to get it out of his hold.
Yuuji moved swiftly, taking the opportunity to grab Fushiguro’s other hand with little resistance, but felt himself get caught by a stray foot.
“You-hey! Wai—“
What happened next was not intentional, just the result that came from Yuuji’s sudden loss of balance.
He hadn’t meant to pin Fushiguro against the wall, against anything for that matter, but gravity had swayed them so that, that’s exactly what occurred.
Thud.
The wall rumbled from the impact as Yuuji felt the pulses beneath his fingertips quicken, felt his own unsteady weight settle onto his hips, unintentionally driving them forward.
He found purchase against Fushiguro’s groin, and watched, utterly mortified, as the accidental shift of pressure sent his classmate’s head jerking back.
“Hahnn!”
The shaman released a sound so obscene, Yuuji felt it rattle through his bones, felt it set his face alight, and make his veins sing.
Did...did Fushiguro just moan?
“S...Sorry.” He offered, too quickly, his cheeks turning as red as the collar on his uniform.
He saw several things flitter over Fushiguro’s expression all at once.
Surprise, shock, hunger, longing, pain, embarrassment —
He blinked and the emotions were gone, that same cold, neutral facade slipping into place as Fushiguro collected himself in an instant before shoving Yuuji away from him - roughly – sending the boy sprawling onto the ground.
Fushiguro sorted out his clothing, wordlessly, and turned to leave; Yuuji shook his head.
“Hey, wait!”
He tried to reach out for him once again, but Fushiguro was faster, turning on him before he got the chance, lightning quick.
His friend’s gaze looking like twin bolts of fury as he snarled, viciously.
“Don’t ever touch me like that again.”
He stopped, frozen in place as Fushiguro stomped out of his sight. The echoes of his heavy footfalls fading altogether before Yuuji remembered how to breathe.
His heart raced as the electric sound that he’d heard sizzle from those lips ran through his mind at least a dozen times, each recollection sent a thrill shocking through his system.
He thought he might spontaneously combust on the spot.
Holy shit.
The day quickly wore into night as Yuuji spent the remainder of it contemplating his own sanity within the four walls of his dorm room.
He still couldn’t get it out of his mind, that sound...that bizarre look on Fushiguro’s face that left him jittery and worked up – fidgeting like he’d had too much sugar.
“Fuck.” He groaned, slamming his face into his pillow, hands ripping at his hair in frustration.
It was already well past midnight, and he wasn’t going to sleep anytime soon.
Clouded behind his eyelids were all of the lewd images of his probably best friend that he really, REALLY didn’t want to be thinking of in that way - not to mention the same said friend was just next door, a mere 6 inches of plaster away from hearing him.
The sorcerer slapped a hand over his brow and flipped towards the wall, willing for his mind not to wander to that goddamn sound, and the other various questions fogging his brain.
Such as: did Fushiguro always make those kinds of sounds when he was feeling it? Did he know that he sounded like – what Yuuji imagined two angels orgasming sounded like? Did he get kinda hard from them basically dry-humping or was that just him? What kind of…
The list went on and on and Yuuji buried his head into the fluff of his bedding and screamed, feeling frustrated and pathetic.
Peering up he caught sight of the first poster he’d hung when he moved in - the one of Jennifer Lawrence in a bikini – and he wondered if maybe all these thoughts were happening because he was just pent-up.
He wasn’t that much of a pervert that he’d pop a boner just cause of some guy moaning…right?
Right.
He sighed, eyes floating back to the poster.
Girls, he told himself, think about girls.
Settling in, he began imagining the things he typically fantasized about when he was trying to relieve some stress - definitely not about Fushiguro and his sinful lips, or what other sounds they could maybe-possibly make.
Definitely not.
No, instead of that he imagined himself cozied up next to some celebrity, playing with her massive tits, squeezing handfuls in his palms as she called out his given name in a sweet lulling voice.
He pictured the girl would look up at him, visualizing her perfect eyes and slightly parted lips as he dragged his own hand along his chest, imagining it was the girls instead, and then moved it further south, jaw clenching as he gave into desire – his imagination running rampant.
He envisioned himself taking the girl to his bed, her lips peppering kisses all across his neck as he laid her down, gently.
He could see himself kissing her, biting at her bottom lip as he pulled her in, closer.
His hands would travel across her body, exposing creamy droves of flesh as he stripped her down bare - moving as quickly as he could to join her - tugging down his own pants with a frantic shove.
Her perfect body was spread underneath him, her light blue eyes locked onto his, warm and beckoning, her face would be flushed with a light pink as she smiled softly.
When he dropped his weight down, her legs would fall apart, opening around him, welcoming him home.
He fisted a hand over his cock, pictured himself hovering over her neck, placing harsh, desperate kisses at the hollow of her throat, nipping at the strong line of her jaw - marking it with hues of purple and black so that everyone would see just who had claimed her.
He tightened his grip around his length more firmly, setting a ragged, sloppy pace, as he imagined what it would look like with her wrists held down, pressed into the mattress, his tongue and teeth littering marks across the valleys and hills of her supple chest, releasing stiff, pert nipples from his mouth as he moved down further, nuzzling along her smooth inner thighs.
His breath caught when he sped up his pace, wrist flicking, as he saw himself turning her onto her stomach, memorizing the sharp jut of her shoulder blades, the subtle curve of her neck, the playful divots on her lower back as their combined sweat made her skin glisten in the moonlight.
He swore he could feel his hands run across her skin, heard her soft whimpers in his ear and her mewls echo through the room as he spread those plush inviting cheeks, fingers digging into the warm flesh as her hands felt around for something to hold onto, clutching for dear life as he entered her inch-by-inch, slipping into that tight scorching heat as she quivered around him.
“Ah, fuck,” he gasped, throbbing.
He envisioned the bowed shape of her spine arching as he bottomed out, pictured her shivering as she adjusted slowly to the stretch of his cock.
Perfect.
And when she was finally ready, he’d trail his hands up the length of her legs - she would’ve been tall - and then he'd slot his palms atop the bony prominence of her hips, squeezing lightly before snapping inside—
‘Hahnn!’
Taking her roughly from behind and—
‘Don’t ever touch me like that again.’
Suddenly, the illusion he’d been carefully constructing began to shatter into pieces while his hand continued to pump around his cock mindlessly, the head turning a deeper, angry red.
The body he’d been picturing beneath him changed shape, becoming something leaner and more refined. The feel of the ass in his palms grew firmer, thicker, taut with experience as the make-believe sounds of flesh slapping continued to ring through the air like a bell.
‘Itadori.’
He was struck by the feeling of lean muscles flexing under his touch, rippling along this new lover’s back as he increased the force with which slammed inside them - the hand he had wrapped around his own cock moving in accordance.
This lover curved back against him, leaning enthusiastically into every thrust he gave, their moans deepening by several octaves, while Yuuji threw an arm over his brow, panting, and decided to let himself go with it.
He laced a sweaty hand into their raven-colored tresses and pulled them up, flush against his chest, while he stayed locked inside their slick, pulsing walls - kissing them senseless as their hands gripped at the backs of his thighs, coaxing him, encouraging him to bury himself even deeper into the sweltering heat between their legs.
‘Are you alright?’
He shoved them back down, moving the hand tangled in their hair lower, fingers spread out possessively over the back of their nape, pinning them as he came undone with a final grunt of effort, releasing inside as he heard that damned sound saturate in his blood while he rode out his high, losing his senses, vision completely whiting out.
‘Itadori...’
Yuuji’s heart beat violently, kicking and screaming in chest as his eyes fluttered in ecstasy, the face of his imagined lover now taking true form.
“Fushi...guro...” he keened, shaking as he worked himself through the aftershocks, picturing sapphires hidden behind dark, unfairly long lashes looking up at him.
He heard Fushiguro’s voice calling out ‘Yuuji’ as his hand slowed to a stop, stilled, and then blood rushing through his ears, roaring as he pondered suffocating himself to death right then and there just to avoid the waves of embarrassment and confusion that crashed over him in the ensuing silence.
I just rubbed one out while thinking about my best friend…oh-my-god…I just jerked off while thinking about Megumi!
His hand suddenly felt hot - too hot - and sticky with shame.
He pulled the offending digits out from his waistband and examined what remained of his guilty release coating the skin there.
Grimacing, he wiped it onto the sheets.
That was super-totally-completely fucked up, he thought to himself; laying back down and feeling even less relaxed than he had before he’d just committed the creepiest act of his life.
Sleep at that point, seemed more like a distant hope than reality, so he settled for counting the lines between the boards of his ceiling until the sun came up.
That night, Sukuna never got the chance to see Megumi.
Chapter 6: Role-Play
Summary:
He couldn’t say that a human had ever looked at him quite like that before.
Notes:
Number one, I am SO sorry that it took me at least a month to update this story, (especially to those in the comments to whom I swore an update was coming soon) I had planned to update it a lot sooner and then a WHOLE lot happened that need not be shared here hahaha. I don’t know how consistent my update schedule will be (but I have lots of ideas for this work so it’s not stoppin’) but there will still be updates to come! There were several times where I thought I was going to update over December/January and then my brain took me in a different direction when I edited what I’d written; and originally this update was going to be in the realm of 15k+ words but I broke it up so that this chapter is about 5,300 words instead. It’s still the largest to date!
All that said, THANK YOU for your patience and kind comments and support! I am so blown away by how much love this story has received! We are in the top 4 (kudos wise) in JJK Ao3 works y’all! THAT IS CRAZY, and it’s all thanks to you!
I really hope you guys like this update, and I delivered what I promised! Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! <3
Chapter Text
Megumi was, to-say-the-least, distracted...
…and it was all Itadori’s fault.
Currently, the shaman’s mind was swirling, filled with fantasies and filthy images that a better man would’ve never conjured up in the first place – though he’d never really thought of himself as a good man to begin with.
His thoughts seemed to center around the fact that it felt far too good to have Yuuji’s weight pressing down on his body, ramming into him; how he figured that Itadori could use the strength he’d felt behind the roll of the larger boy’s hips to set that rough, steady grind that he craved.
Or how Itadori’s cheeks seemed to match the color of his hair when he’d gotten too close to Fushiguro’s face, how Megumi kind of wanted to see how much deeper he could make that shade darken if he’d tried to.
And even how Megumi knew - minus some ink and sadistic charisma - exactly what that body looked like laid on top of him without any clothes covering it, what it felt like to have Yuuji’s cock slip inside of him, stretching him, filling him until he might split apart in two.
Megumi knew what the muscles on Itadori’s back felt like when they were clenched beneath his fingertips - a thought that had the shaman’s mind brimming with a number of hypothetical possibilities - the ‘what if’, rotating inside his mind like the Earth in orbit of the sun.
Questions surfaced like: how it might things have played out if Megumi hadn’t let that treacherous organ pounding in his chest take over his ability to think rationally?
But, then again, Yuuji wasn’t really an entity that could be described in rational terms.
No, he was by very definition irrational - reckless, simple-minded, the type of idiot who would eat a special grade cursed object without a second thought and Megumi found that distracting.
It was like he was drawn to Yuuji through some invisible force, sucked into the gravitational pull of a once normal high school boy with a carefree smile and natural charm that he himself didn’t have – not to mention his own clumsy footwork which had been shown to cause Megumi to lose his breath, his mind, his complete ability to think and function in any capacity at all.
He blinked.
Distracting .
Sighing, the shaman tried to reign in whatever brain cells remained in his head, and strategize what methods he could use in battle with his shikigami.
He hadn’t forgotten - even through the hormones - what Sukuna had said to him that day regarding his abilities.
‘A wasted treasure...’ he’d called it.
The shaman was completely aware that the King of Curses didn’t give out compliments lightly - and Megumi just happened to be the kind of asshole who strived to make a god eat his own words, because when it came down to the wire, Fushiguro was fairly certain he’d be forced to fight the curse again.
It was only a matter of time at this point.
So, as best as he could, Megumi continued on like that through most of the afternoon, scribbling notes and envisioning scenarios where in, he was back at that detention center - trying to find a way he could’ve won against the special grade, thus preventing the entire mess that had come as a result of his own lack of ingenuity.
He wanted to be able to protect those he considered worthy of living - a drive which had him so absorbed in the process that he nearly missed the tell-tale creak of the door as Sukuna slid into his room, deviously silent.
Megumi set down the notebook he’d been carrying in his hand, pausing in his back-and-forth pacing - something he always did when he needed to think - and turned to take in the curse’s appearance.
He frowned.
Instead of sweatpants and nothing else, Sukuna had opted to wear Yuuji’s school uniform.
Seeing the curse so, well, covered threw the shaman off - especially since the small change only made it that much more difficult for Megumi’s brain not to imagine that the person standing in front of him was Yuuji, and not Sukuna.
He wondered what purpose the curse had intended behind it, but regardless, it left Megumi unsettled.
He could feel the curse’s gaze flicker upward to meet his own, and he tried, but failed, to hide the obvious distaste written throughout his expression.
Sukuna merely smirked at him.
“What’s wrong?” The curse purred knowingly, taking a step towards him, “not happy to see me?”
Megumi swallowed thickly, moving his own feet back to keep the distance spaced between them.
He tried to ignore the slight raise in temperature that seemed to permeate inside the room - an annoying phenomenon that had been happening whenever Sukuna came too close.
He couldn’t tell if the abrupt flare of heat was just his own nerves or if it was actually some sick, Pavlovian response his body now had to Sukuna’s presence.
Either way it was maddening, and it made Megumi feel like slapping his palm against his own forehead - maybe it would help to bring back his common sense.
He’d have been lying if he’d said that he wasn’t at least a little surprised when the curse hadn’t come to his room the previous evening. Though he wasn’t upset by the fact, no, definitely not upset.
It was just that with the small incident between he and Yuuji, Megumi wasn’t sure exactly what would happen - maybe an outburst of jealousy or something of the like on Sukuna’s part; but, after mulling it over he’d decided he just wasn’t that important to the curse.
Not even in the slightest.
Sukuna, after all, was the same being that had torn out his own vessel’s heart without a second thought. And if he could do that to the only person keeping him alive in the flesh, Megumi didn’t want to consider what he might do to someone in as laughable a position as him - Sukuna’s personal sex toy.
Glancing to the side, Megumi purposely ignored the unwelcome shiver that ran down his spine as Sukuna raked an intent pair of amber orbs across his body, looking the shaman over from floor to ceiling.
“Tell me what to do already,” Megumi blurted out suddenly, unthinking. His jaw snapping shut just seconds after the words left his tongue.
Sukuna once again smirked, lips stretching wider this time, and moved forward to close the gap between them with a single stride.
“Tsk, tsk, so demanding,” The curse tutted, amused by Megumi’s predictable antics. His gaze flashed over with excitement as the shaman kept his own trained on the ground.
So difficult , he thought fondly.
The curse slowly lifted a hand to brush his painted fingers across the strong line of Megumi’s jaw, dark nails scratching along the sharp jut before gripping, and tugging the shaman’s chin upward.
They locked eyes once again.
Sukuna said nothing, but instead simply placed his thumb at the crevice of Megumi’s lips, prodding gently until the shaman let his jaw fall slack in the curse’s hand, pliant and soft.
The shaman ignored the surge of warmth that seeped from his gut at the action, and pulled himself out of the curse’s grasp with a single jerk of his head - all too quickly.
Sukuna traced the quick dart of the shaman’s tongue over the place where he’d touched his bottom lip before Megumi worried at it - his own pupils dilating just slightly before a wide-set grin tore across the curse’s face, displaying rows of teeth.
“Feeling bold today, are we?” Sukuna chuckled darkly, rough palms sliding easily atop either of Megumi’s hips, while his fingers wasted no time dipping under the boy’s shirt - touching the shaman skin to skin.
He gave Megumi’s hips a rough, suggestive squeeze as he leaned down to murmur in the shaman’s ear.
“I can think of a few ways to put that energy to good use.”
Megumi grit his jaw, biting down on his tongue while his groin twitched eagerly at Sukuna’s insinuation - his body betraying the feelings he held in his heart.
The curse had always approached the shaman with different tactics, but in the end the result always ended up the same: Megumi laid out, naked, and utterly wrecked both mentally and physically beneath him.
The shaman had never imagined he’d be the kind of person who was so weak to the influence of physical touch, and yet, it was as if Sukuna knew how to keep the shaman right where he wanted with just the simple glide of his hand.
Some days the curse threw Megumi onto the floor first thing and had his way with the shaman in lieu of exchanging any words, letting his hands and cock communicate instead of his lips: a clear reminder of his position in the King’s mind.
Other nights the curse drew the process out, making Megumi beg and tremble for release before Sukuna would actually give it to him - and even still, sometimes, Sukuna was just unpredictable.
Kind in one moment, and merciless the next; never failing to doll out both pain and pleasure indiscriminately.
The curse crowded around the shaman, swallowing his frame as he nuzzled into the boy’s side - a false affection Megumi knew was intended to have him to drop his guard.
He knew that, but he still couldn’t manage to reject the action completely - because even though this was Sukuna’s touches and intentions, the body enacting them was not.
Megumi was surrounded by Yuuji’s scent at every angle, filling him up like air.
It left every inhale he took coated with that distinctive musk that was reminiscent of spring, of sweat, and that cheap brand of shampoo he’d seen Yuuji buy once at a convenience store.
It was familiar, it reminded Megumi of camaraderie, of friendship...it was safe, but it seemed that Sukuna had a talent for shattering Megumi’s protective illusions.
“Let’s try something a little different tonight.” The curse whispered against his skin, nipping hungrily at his ear - reminding the shaman that he wasn’t even remotely safe right now.
Megumi shut both of his eyes tightly, long lashes trembling.
“What do you think?” Sukuna persisted, knowing full-well that Megumi didn’t have a damn say in the matter. He’d already been bound to acting a slave regardless of how it affected him.
The only actual power he held right now lied in his voice, so instead of offering it freely, Megumi resolved to keep himself quiet.
“Oh, you’re not talking?” Sukuna murmured.
Megumi didn’t answer.
Sukuna chuckled out a low ‘we’ll see’ and set about marking the exposed bits of Megumi’s flesh in bruises - dark red and purple kiss marks that trailed across slim expanses of his cream colored skin.
The shaman couldn’t keep himself still in the process, despite every effort. His legs were restless and his veins kept tingling with every torturously slow glide of Sukuna’s tongue. It was like being slowly branded, or owned bit-by-bit.
He didn’t want to be so weak to the obvious teasing, but as seconds turned into minutes the shaman’s hands were fisting into the sleeves of Yuuji’s uniform, and Megumi couldn’t see any tattoos to keep his mind rooted in the hatred he held for Sukuna as his skin hummed in arousal.
The black fabric under his palms was too familiar, as was the red hood hanging loosely behind the swell of Yuuji’s biceps.
The consistent firm pressure left Megumi’s hips as the curse pulled away from him, suddenly withdrawing his grip and moving lithely around the shaman - settling again against the boy’s back.
Sukuna continued his previous torture, dragging a wet, sinful tongue across the back of Megumi’s vulnerable neck, teeth barely grazing - and when the curse let his sharp canines sink into the bulk of Megumi’s shoulder, the shaman’s lips all but flew apart with a startled yelp of pain.
He couldn’t understand why the hurt added to his unwanted excitement.
Victorious, Sukuna didn’t waste a moment - his hands quickly moving down to skim along the front of Megumi’s pants, palming at the slight bulge formed there, humiliating the shaman further with every movement.
Sukuna was getting harder in turn, enticed by the full-body shudder Megumi made against him, practically vibrating in his hold.
He tilted his hips forward - rolling into the shaman - and Megumi keened in response, the cry stifled only partially by bite of the boy’s teeth into the fabric at Sukuna’s collar.
The curse wouldn’t have minded playing with the shaman in this way for the remainder of the night; but, he had other, better plans for the time they had left.
“C’mon,” the curse grinned crookedly, “don’t you want to be a good for me tonight,” he encouraged, slipping his fingers underneath the waistband of the boy’s pants, “Megumi?”
The shaman wore a unique expression of need overshadowed by the liquid venom in his eyes as the curse wrapped his hand around Megumi’s length.
Sukuna throbbed at the sight.
“Fuck you,” the shaman growled meekly, and Sukuna let his wrist flick up and down the boy’s shaft at a steady pace, grinning - he might’ve been getting a head of himself, touching the shaman like this so soon, but he didn’t care enough to stop.
“Tempting,” the curse breathed, drinking in each one of Megumi’s carefully restrained reactions, “but you know how this works.”
Reluctantly, after a few more strokes, Sukuna did pull away from the boy - leaving Megumi a flustered and panting mess - thoroughly enjoying the muffled whine that the shaman failed to hold back.
“Take off your clothes,” he ordered, amber gaze darkening, “do it now.”
Megumi’s lips twisted into a scowl, his blue eyes narrowing in annoyance as he resolved to make a show of his own reluctant obedience.
The shaman slowly lifted the long-sleeved tee he donned off of his head, tensing all the while so that his abdomen displayed the fine-tailored lines of his muscled form; then turning, he showed off his backside; hooking both thumbs into his waistband and tugging the pants and underwear down over his knees in one fluid motion - flashing his bare ass to the curse as he kicked the disheveled clothing off to the side before facing Sukuna again.
The shaman didn’t flinch outwardly when he saw the clear change in Sukuna’s expression, though inside he was taken aback by just how hungry the curse looked in the moment, like any flash of movement he made might set Sukuna off.
He blinked and his view was turned sideways, the curse’s fingers gripping him tightly by the chin so that his throat was barred in a forced submission.
“Tonight...,” he breathed, “I’m going to thoroughly ruin you.”
The shaman shivered as the words sank in, each syllable holding a threat, full of damaging, blackened promise.
Haven’t you done that already? Megumi thought to himself, as the curse’s lips sealed over his pulse. Sukuna’s warm breath lingering over the skin while Megumi’s heart rate sped up in accordance.
More and more, Megumi had found that his body had grown almost content in letting Sukuna take control, in letting the curse have his way as long as he whispered how ‘good’ the shaman was afterwards for allowing such a one-sided domination.
He didn’t understand why the sex with Sukuna brought out the undiscovered masochist inside him, but, perhaps that’s exactly what the curse had wanted to happen - to screw Megumi into submission, and feed his own sadistic whims in the process.
Megumi also considered that maybe he was just that broken...truthfully, he couldn’t be sure - because his world of late had been overwhelmed with bruises on his skin and pleasure in his groin, it left no room to sort out feelings. And ultimately, what he felt didn’t even matter; because he was nothing but a toy in this man’s hands...
“You know, I wonder how you’d react if it was someone else touching you like this.”
Megumi’s entire body went rigid at the suggestion - blue orbs growing wide.
Surely Sukuna wasn’t going to...surely he didn’t intend to switch with Yuuji right now?
But before the shaman could say anything on the matter, Sukuna’s hands were already back on his skin, bewitching every inch of his flesh with a purposeful, possessing touch - working Megumi over until he was back to sounding breathless.
Sukuna’s harsh fingers curled around his wrists as a leg nudged itself between his thighs.
“...went something like this...” Sukuna murmured to no one in particular, and then slammed Megumi’s body into the closest nearby wall - the impact alone sending small shockwaves of pain radiating throughout the shaman’s system.
The curse fixated on the glint that shone at the corner of Megumi’s lashes, an indication of reflexive tears forming there as Megumi let out a pained groan - hissing in discomfort as it became apparent just how close Sukuna actually was to his face, openly staring.
He felt Yuuji’s large arms bracketed around him, and noted that they were pinning down his wrists - a sensation he’d always imagined feeling in a much different context.
“Does this seem familiar yet?” Sukuna asked him, head cocked slightly to the left as Megumi tried to make sense of what the curse was getting at.
What the hell was he talking about?
“Maybe this will help you remember,” Sukuna growled into him, and then abruptly thrusted himself upward, driving into Megumi hard while watching closely as the shaman let out a broken, deplorable moan.
The friction was just what Megumi needed against his own straining erection.
The weight Sukuna was pressing down on him seemed almost familiar, comforting even, and when Megumi slowly put together what exactly Sukuna was working to recreate, the blood in his veins ran cold.
Oh...fuck...
The curse saw the gears shift into place within Megumi’s mind, noting the way his skin paled and eyes grew dull. Drawing closer, he dipped his head down to breath in Megumi’s scent.
“What? Not into roleplay?” he stated flatly, eyes reflecting the hidden fury he’d carried in the hours of the day.
“I could’ve sworn you would be, if your reaction yesterday was anything to go by.”
Megumi was too stunned to respond, unsure, so stiff he couldn’t move let alone speak and Sukuna flashed him a smile. It looked too stiff to be genuine - screaming danger.
“How did it feel, hmm? Having the brat pressed against you just like this?” The curse whispered in the shaman’s ear, voice dripping with a fearsome, wrath-filled tone that Megumi hadn’t heard him use before.
It was terrifying.
“You...you saw us.” He managed to stutter out, and Sukuna barked a laugh at his side.
“Of course I did,” he snickered coldly.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t know when he and I share the same flesh?”
Megumi opened his mouth to speak, but fell short.
Even though he’d predicted something happening, he never thought it would result in Sukuna sounding so...angry. Not to mention, with the deafening level of silence hanging between them, the curse’s fury spread over Megumi like droplets of acid.
Sukuna watched him closely, eyes burning as he strengthened his grip on Megumi’s wrists - closing around the shaman tighter. He paused to guide one of the shaman’s hands down to his own raging cock, prompting the boy to stroke the hard length as he impatiently ground up into his palm.
“You should know,” the curse grunted tersely, “the brat thought of you while touching himself just like this.”
Megumi choked, uncertain if he’d heard Sukuna correctly as the curse started to rain disorienting kisses over the shaman’s skin, spreading heat across Megumi’s torso before taking a moment to glance at the one place he’d never tried to claim as barbarically as he had the rest of him - the shaman’s lips.
Y...Yuuji...while thinking of...me?
Megumi thoughts were cut short when Sukuna kissed him seconds later, nothing soft about it. The connection allowing for Sukuna to devour him completely, tasting him, savoring with every motion.
It was a claiming, passionate thing; a fierce tangling of tongues, and rough movements of warm lips against each other with the occasional tug of teeth.
Megumi felt like all of the air had been torn straight out of his lungs as Sukuna carried on until he felt dizzy; claiming him again, and again, and again in a relentless assault that had him melting.
It was Megumi’s first time kissing someone else, and yet Sukuna had him drowning like a fool - and that was wrong, just so wrong that he felt that way with—
“Fushiguro..."
Half-gone, it took Megumi a moment to fully comprehend that the voice calling his name was in fact Sukuna’s - though it sounded frighteningly close to the way that Yuuji called him.
Maybe the curse was doing it on purpose. Perhaps Sukuna had picked up on how he’d been yearning for Itadori’s large and capable hands to hold him like this, to touch him like he’d go mad if he didn’t when he’d seen them yesterday.
Or maybe the curse had been lying from the start, knowing Megumi would fall for this trap - waving something he craved so badly right in front of him to lead him blindly into compliance.
Am I that obvious? He thought in despair, as he let the curse ravage him towards mindless oblivion.
He was only pulled from the path to self-destruction by the familiar sound of a belt being undone and the sharp quiver of pleasure that shot through his core knowing what it foretold - that Megumi would be filled again - that he would finally be full...stuffed so wholly with Yuuji’s cock that he wouldn’t be able to think about anything anymore...or hurt anymore, even if it was only temporary.
The knowing of that made him shamelessly eager to be trapped under the blistering heat of Itadori’s body, and impatient to be wholly overtaken by Sukuna’s rage.
Megumi knew he should’ve felt disgusted with himself for having such fragile willpower, that he should’ve acted repulsed by the curse’s attention instead of leaning into it. But all that he really felt when Sukuna dipped down to lock both arms under his thighs was an overwhelming sense of relief.
He could pretend just for tonight, couldn’t he? Just once, it was okay to let himself fall under the delusion that the man holding him wasn’t the famed Ryomen Sukuna but instead the boy he’d been nursing feelings for since the day they’d met...right?
Hadn’t Sukuna implied that maybe Yuuji felt this way as well? Desired him like this also?
The curse pulled them both up to his full height, standing while Megumi’s legs wrapped tightly around Sukuna’s waist, clinging desperately.
Even if Yuuji only thought of him to gratify his own sexual needs, Megumi was fine with it. Even if in Itadori’s mind he was nothing more than a warm hole to use, that was enough.
Sukuna leaned forward, pressing Megumi’s back against the cool surface of the wall, and he gasped.
As long as it was Yuuji...it was okay.
“Pay close attention,” the curse murmured into the shaman’s jaw, jealousy rearing as he grazed the hollow curve of Megumi’s throat.
“I’ll show you everything that weakling fantasized about doing with this body.”
Megumi’s mind went blessedly silent as strings of fire crackled and raged inside his bones, simmering just beneath the surface of his pale skin.
He cried out with every motion Sukuna made, pleased by the abrupt shudder the curse experienced as he targeted the shaman’s nipples with sharp flicks of his tongue.
His hands were so unforgiving, handling him with a rough fervor just like the shaman needed it.
The curse dragged himself down Megumi’s tall, compact frame, supporting the shaman’s weight on the broad stretch of his shoulders - jaw caressing teasingly along the boy’s inner thighs.
“Hah...Y...uu...” he moaned, and when Sukuna slid the tip of his tongue into the greedy blaze of Megumi’s taint, he yelped. The sudden intrusion overwhelming. His body flailing slightly before his slender fingers reached out to anchor into the millennial roots of Sukuna’s scalp.
The curse could feel just how much residual tension the soft, slick walls of Megumi’s insides contained as he kneaded against them, longing to feel their unforgiving clutch around his cock despite the phenomenal taste in his mouth.
Megumi was trembling violently above him, shaking so intensely at the sensation of the curse pushing in and out that he wondered if the boy might come just like this.
He’d never prepped the shaman this way after all, and he was all too aware of the boy’s inexperience; but when the curse heard him moan a weak ‘d...on’t...stop...’ what little restraint Sukuna had left snapped.
He curled his tongue inward, pressing the tip against the distinct knot that had Megumi arching into a perfect bow, overstimulating him as feeble hands clawed at his hair – the boy’s pretty mouth quivering with desperate mumblings of praise.
He could feel Megumi’s walls stretching around him, and decided they were as loose as they would get before he gave the shaman something bigger to wrap around, and withdrew his tongue. Megumi’s muscles clenched down in its absence, and the shaman let out a pitiful whine as his suspended hips twitched for more.
His body shook lightly all over, and Sukuna paused for a moment to admire the sight before continuing, tendrils of sweat trickling down his chest.
“The poor brat has no idea,” he observed, “just how desperate you are to be touched like this.”
Megumi’s head lolled to the side, saliva dripping over the sides of his lips as the curse gracefully lowered the shaman’s feet to the floor, catching the boy when he wobbled forward unsteadily.
Still unhinged, Sukuna guided him forward, bending him over with the shaman’s palms spread out on the plaster to keep him upright.
“He kept thinking about how wrong it was to picture you like this,” Sukuna told the shaman, dropping his pants lower as his gaze trailed across Megumi’s exposed backside, “all vulnerable and on display.”
Sukuna raised the boy’s hips while working to memorize the sharp curves of his shoulder blades flexing in anticipation – lining up his cock at the shaman’s puckered entrance.
His fingertips traced over the shape of Megumi’s neck, down each individual ridge of the shaman’s spine, and then glided across the two identical divots resting above the swell of his ass.
“His thoughts don’t even come close to capturing what you actually look like when I’ve taken you apart.”
Sukuna grabbed a handful of the supple flesh, squeezed mercilessly, and then without warning, rolled himself forward.
Megumi whimpered quietly as Sukuna forced himself in deeper, and deeper until he felt the satisfying slap of his hips seated flush against the shaman’s - his cock fully sheathed inside.
The curse let a soft, pleased sigh tumble from his lips before his head fell back, basking in the scorching sensation of Megumi fluttering around him, absolutely writhing over every inch of his cock as his body adjusted.
“Ah...” he groaned, “it’s a shame the brat will never know how pitifully his hand measures up to what’s it actually like to be inside you...”
Megumi tightened at that, and Sukuna held back the embarrassing noises that threatened to rumble out of his chest as the shaman rocked himself back, desperately seeking relief from the growing tension mounted between them.
Sukuna didn’t wait to fuck him in earnest - reveling in the fact that Megumi couldn’t seem to hold his voice back if he tried to, feeling every wanton sound the shaman made with how deeply embedded he was into him.
He put more weight behind every snap of his hips than he needed to, striving to punish Megumi for his own possessive nature by leaving the boy aching in the hours of the day to come.
He wanted him to break - and when the shaman’s moans began to morph into cries of pain, and then agony; Sukuna wondered how much more it would take before Megumi begged him to stop.
“H...hurts...Yuuji...it hurts...ahn!”
The familiar melody of skin slapping against skin faltered as Sukuna’s break-neck pace came to a sudden halt - Megumi’s begging screams ceasing to ring throughout the room, replaced with quiet sobs.
Teeth grinding together, some untapped furl of emotion rose in the curse’s gut; sitting hot and heavy as he heard the brat’s name echo in his mind. Sukuna threaded his fingers into the dark forest of Megumi’s hair and ripped his arm back.
Slowly, he took in the shaman’s expression; finding a hollow glow in the shaman’s normally piercing blue gaze and the glisten of tears slipping down his flushed cheeks - delicate features so utterly fucked out that the curse’s rage abruptly simmered.
So, he’s that far gone already.
The curse leaned forward, thrusting lightly as he pressed a soft kiss to the space behind the shaman’s ear before confirming his suspicion.
“Who am I right now, Megumi?” He asked in low tones, forehead nestled against the sweat-dampened locks at the base of the shaman’s nape.
The boy panted heavily beneath him, swaying with every rock of their bodies as his arms wobbled in their post, head dropped forward.
“Y-Yuuji...” Megumi breathed in a sweet voice, and Sukuna grit his jaw before shoving the boy down harshly over his cock, seething.
I’ll have to work on that next time , the curse thought before sinking his teeth into the sensitive juncture between the shaman’s collar and throat, clamping down until he tasted blood.
Megumi screamed, tears flowing thicker as his back arched once more into a perfect bow. The boy’s cock convulsing between his thighs as the lack of friction kept him on that edge of euphoria, teetering hopelessly.
When Sukuna released the shaman from his jaws, he let him fall forward - back into position. The boy somehow managed to crane his neck sideways despite the bruising hold in his hair, and the curse took notice of the way his tear-filled eyes were brimming with openness and confusion, full of so much trust that Sukuna found himself captivated.
He couldn’t say that a human had ever looked at him quite like that before.
“...touch me...Yuuji...” Megumi gasped; needing, desperate.
He moved wordlessly to capture the shaman’s lips with his own, only speaking after they parted for breath. Sukuna slowed the pace considerably, gentler as he continued sliding into Megumi with ease.
“Imagine what Itadori would say if he saw you right now? Face down and begging for me.” The curse laughed, somewhat breathless into the shaman’s mouth; feeling his balls tighten with each rhythmic motion shared between them.
“Still...when it…hah…comes to this,” Sukuna whispered, “...his hand will have to do.”
The curse’s hips jerked forward, burying deep as a wash of pleasure whited out his senses.
Because this, is all mine.
Chapter 7: Exposed
Summary:
"Megumi felt strangely empowered instead of dreadful – maybe it had something to do with feeling that he was actually in control of things this time."
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The next morning Megumi awoke with a head full of thoughts and a heart full of feelings he’d only begun to broach hours earlier. Especially—
“Megumi-kuuun.”
The shaman flinched at the all-too-familiar sing-song voice that called from directly behind him, eyes narrowing in disdain as Gojou laughed in smug amusement.
He turned, frown slipping into place.
“What is it, sensei?” he asked reluctantly, eyeing the man’s unusual appearance with a twirk of interest.
Typically, Gojou wore his signature blindfold, complimented always by his teaching uniform, but today he looked…more casual? Megumi supposed.
He was dawning a simple black sweatshirt and joggers, his eyes only obscured by filtered shades instead of black cloth.
Weird, he thought silently.
His teacher flashed him a bright smile, one that was just a bit too wide for comfort, maybe even devious as he said, “today we’re going on a special trip!” Megumi narrowed his eyes, suspicious, and gave an exasperated sigh.
He could never understand his teacher’s intentions.
“Sensei, you know it’s our day off, right?” he griped, arms crossed in front of his chest as he stretched out dramatically. Megumi hoped that the slight twinge in his expression would go unnoticed when he felt the sharp ache in his lower back.
Gojou merely chuckled, dropping down a bit so that he wasn’t towering over Megumi with his obnoxious height, and leaned in far too close – a habit of his that Megumi found rather annoying.
“Think of it as extra-credit, ‘kay?” Gojou chirped happily, whistling as he strolled towards the door with his hands shuffled into his pockets before shooting Megumi a look.
“Well? Shall we?” he said, still grinning too wide for comfort.
“Fine,” the shaman conceded.
Megumi dreaded whatever unspoken scheme Gojou planned to reel him into.
They hadn’t gone far from campus, only out to Shibuya, and after shopping, picking up various sweets for Gojou-sensei, and visiting the pet store – the one thing Megumi actually enjoyed – the shaman was beginning to suspect that he was simply just some convenient company for his teacher to annoy rather than a student on a field trip to learn some type of extra-curricular.
He couldn’t be sure though, you never really knew with Gojou-sensei.
Eventually, as they walked back towards the school, he couldn’t stomach being complacent on the matter any longer.
“Sensei, I thought you said this was going to be extra-credit,” he blurted; brows furrowed inward as he walked sullenly beside the silver-haired man, pouting openly.
“I did,” Gojou affirmed lightly, secretly amused by Megumi’s sour demeanor.
“We haven’t spotted a curse for miles,” he complained, “or even talked about jujutsu techniques for that matter.”
Megumi shifted his sapphire gaze to Gojou’s face.
“So why did you actually bring me out here?” he asked suspiciously.
It was then that Megumi saw the content look on his teacher’s face shift, subtly morphing from the typical care-free persona he usually portrayed into something more or less unknown.
However, the unsettling grin still remained.
Gojou paused in his stride, effectively stopping Megumi as well as he turned to face his student.
“Do you remember why my eyes are so special?” he asked.
“Because they make you look like a celebrity?” Megumi spouted off-handedly, shrugging his shoulders.
His teacher chuckled briefly.
“Flattering, but no,” Gojou said as his head tilted upwards, looking into the blending colors of the sky as the sun began setting, “my eyes allow me to see cursed energy, even cursed techniques if I want.”
Oh.
Megumi tried to suppress the chill that formed at the base of his spine while he tried to assess what exactly his teacher was getting at.
Does that mean...does he know?
“So, when I see cursed energy that’s unique, I’m not likely to forget it should it appear in front of me again.”
Gojou turned his gaze back to Megumi, eyes unusually calculating and sharp. The shaman imagined that his teacher probably saw much more than he would’ve liked as he seemed to see right through him.
“That being said, I was wondering, Megumi,” he started, grin slipping ever so slightly, “can you explain why there are traces of Sukuna’s cursed energy clinging around you right now?”
Megumi swallowed, harshly – trying to think of a plausible excuse that would fool Gojou of all people. But he should’ve known better.
“I don’t know what you’re--”
His teacher held a finger to his lips, silencing him, that placid smile still in place.
“Ah, ah, you don’t wanna lie,” he teased, eyes not matching his cold tone, “cause I get kinda angry when people lie.”
“I can’t tell you why,” Megumi insisted.
“Really?”
“If I say it’s for a good reason, is that enough for you?” he all but pleaded.
Gojou seemed to consider his request for a moment before replying, “depends on the reason.”
Megumi had always, always been a secretive person.
He kept his cards close to the vest, hidden behind a wall of stoicism, but even he had moments where that façade cracked - and when it did, the emotions he kept stored up behind it began to spill over.
They consumed blindly like the ocean tide, devouring everything and everyone in the immediate vicinity without discretion.
And right now, his control was slipping...his emotions were starting to show.
“I-I made a deal…a vow with Sukuna for Itadori.” His stomach churned viciously as the air settled heavily between them.
“What did you offer?” His teacher asked, unphased.
“That’s…I can’t say,” he swallowed, “please don’t tell anyone.”
Especially, Yuuji.
Gojou stared back at him for what to Megumi felt like eternity before the threatening aura he radiated, faded into fondness.
“Always sacrificing yourself huh, Megumi?” he teased light-heartedly - his hand ruffling through the shaman’s hair with affection as Megumi let out a breath.
“That’s…that’s it? You’re not going to make me tell you what I did?” Megumi asked incredulously – feeling like he had whiplash from the sharp change of direction their conversation had taken.
Gojou stared back at him, his eyes seeming like endless labyrinths of blue.
“I won’t,” he assured, grinning triumphantly, “…for now,” he added.
After that they walked back to the school in silence while Megumi came up with a plan.
Though lately it seemed that every time he tried to deceive someone, it blew up in his face.
“I started to wonder if you were going to break our vow, shaman,” Sukuna drawled from a dark corner of the room as Megumi quietly let the door click shut behind him.
“I guess it’s no surprise you found your way back though, considering how you feel for this brat,” the curse commented smugly, lips stretched wide as he narrowed the distance between them.
Warm breath puffed across the shaman’s face, followed by a glowing pair of scarlet eyes.
“Humans call this ridiculous notion ‘love’ am I right?” he purred - voice deeply laced with sarcasm. His sinful gaze swept over Megumi expectantly.
The shaman let himself appear vulnerable under the scrutiny…features raw with rehearsed emotion as he stared back at Sukuna.
He had to be careful after all, Sukuna was smart, calculating, ruthless – more so than any other curse he’d ever encountered before. But then again that was probably why he was called the king.
If Sukuna caught on to any hint of deceit, he’d force Megumi to spill the truth about what had happened that afternoon – the absolute last thing he wanted to do – one way or another.
And even more concerning, if Gojo was watching him then he needed to be cautious. He needed time to think about how to avoid any mounting suspicion before Sukuna caught on to his ploy.
If Sukuna figured out that Megumi was sucking up to avoid rough handling…well, he didn’t know what kinds of things the curse might push him into with the knowledge that he wouldn’t resist.
Therefore, Megumi had already resigned himself to play the needy subservient whore for tonight. He’d done more degrading things than this, so, in reality it wasn’t all that hard. He knew what Sukuna wanted, he could be convincing…or he hoped so at least.
Perhaps, if he pulled everything off, being spoiled by a sadistic spirit wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
“Who knows?” Megumi sighed in response, pressing in close to the curse as their bodies fitted together – all too well.
“Love has got nothing to do with what you came here for tonight,” he whispered.
Sukuna looked unphased.
“How unusual for you to initiate Megumi,” the curse commented slyly, “not going to make me force you this time?”
Megumi curled his own lips in a smirk, and let his fingers gravitate south, tips brushing the band of Yuuji’s sweats.
“What’s the point of trying to resist it anyways?” he chided, sinking down in a way he hoped was seductive.
“You win every time,” his fingers tugged at the elastic material, pulling it towards the floor, “I’m just sick of repeating the same old story.”
Sukuna’s cock sprung freely, hanging heavy in front of Megumi’s face, daunting in its length once again. But somehow, Megumi felt strangely empowered instead of dreadful – maybe it had something to do with feeling that he was actually in control of things this time.
“That so?”
Megumi replied by opening his lips, and letting his tongue slide out – wet, warm, inviting. He pressed a kiss to the flushed tip before taking it into his mouth, sinking to the base in one fell swoop.
He kept his eyes locked onto Sukuna’s the entire time, feeling a flare of something like pride when the curse’s brow furrowed inward and a sharp exhale escaped him.
That’s right, the shaman thought smugly as he swallowed back down, I know exactly how you like it.
Seconds stretched into minutes as Megumi settled into a steady rhythm of pleasuring the very being he detested. Every sound that slipped into the quiet room sent heat shooting low in the shaman’s quickly stiffening slacks as his jaw ached from the strain.
His head was going fuzzy, numbing as he felt saliva drip down his chin. Wet sounds punctuating every hollow of his cheeks.
He was so lost to the goal of feeling that satisfactory heat spurt down his throat that he didn’t even fight when Sukuna abruptly pulled him off. Hands tangled tightly into his raven locks as he was roughly shoved onto his back, blood-red orbs boring down on him from above.
For a second his brain registered that he thought the color was pretty before freezing over with the next quietly spoken words.
“Have I broken you already?” Sukuna asked him, eyes roaming his face, intently seeking out some sort of confirmation.
“W…what?” Megumi floundered - caught off guard by the question - unsure of how to respond.
Sukuna leaned down.
So close…
The curse’s lips brushed along the shaman’s ear, ignoring the betraying shiver that wracked through Megumi’s body.
“Have you been broken, Megumi?” he asked again with a chilling intensity in his voice, unwavering as his hands moved to grip Megumi’s wrists.
The shaman remained silent; teeth clenched together to keep himself grounded. But judging by the look in Sukuna’s eye, Megumi knew that he’d already been made – scheme utterly unveiled.
He probably looked like a kid with his hand stuck in a cookie jar right about now.
“Because if you’re not broken then you’re hiding something,” Sukuna told him clearly, reaffirming what Megumi already knew…
He’d always been a terrible liar.
Notes:
Oh hey...it's me again! First, thank you guys for being so patient and not giving up on this story! All of your comments are seriously amazing and make me so excited to jump back into this work! I am working to reply to each of them now, and I hope you all enjoy this little teaser for what's coming next! To a (hopefully) soon update! xoxo
P.S. We hit 2,600 kudos! YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST!!!!
Chapter 8: All Laid Bare
Summary:
“Megumi’s heart suddenly flipped before he smacked it down under his fist and kept it there - flattened, crumpled, and bleeding out.”
Notes:
Wow guys, just wow. We were at 2600 kudos not three days ago and now we’re at over 2800!!! That’s INSANE! Thank you so much!!!
Also I am SUCH a slut for your comments lol
I literally find myself thinking back to them throughout the day and giggling to myself like a madwoman in front of other people haha (but like also tearing up at the really sweet ones too)
This ones for you guys, you deserve it :)
Chapter Text
If you’re not broken then you’re hiding something.
“Is there something you want from me; Fushiguro, Megumi?”
Megumi could hear his own pulse roaring in his ears, galloping as adrenaline coursed through his veins. He was hyper aware of everything - the flush in his cheeks, the weight of Sukuna’s hands on top of his wrists, even the drivel of spit leaking down from his lips.
“No,” he lied without a breath, jade eyes still locked onto red.
The curse clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Lies,” he growled, black nails splintering into the shaman’s clothing and ripping it from his chest. Megumi bit his lip when the cool air hit his skin, tempted to recoil.
“You should know better than to lie to something like me,” The curse’s breath fluttered across the shaman’s exposed flesh, warmth teasing the stiffening buds on his pectorals.
“You should’ve at least tried to make it convincing.”
Sukuna’s lips dragged around them before taking one into his mouth and Megumi bit back a noise - tensing at the foreign sensation as a tongue slathered across it - refusing to let his mind explore the slight tingling that spread over his nerves.
“W-What’re you- ah !”
A sharp pain shocked the boy’s system, blue eyes going wide and frantic. Sukuna lips were curled at the ends, serrated teeth clamped over Megumi’s nipple as he watched the shaman with unreadable intentions.
Megumi’s breath faltered momentarily when the curse switched sides, sucking lightly before grazing the pert flesh with teeth once again, but this time he didn’t bite down - only lathered, rolled, and licked until Megumi found himself wondering when the curse would send that electric zap shooting through his bones again, almost impatiently.
The shaman was unconsciously arching into each one of Sukuna’s touches, his cheeks burning cherry-red.
When Sukuna drew back, Megumi was mortified by the slight whine that left his throat. The curse hovered upright with a smug expression.
“Tell me what I want to know and I’ll give you what you want,” he promised, hands sliding across the shaman’s abdomen in slow deliberate motions, teasing around the aching pink buds on his chest - but never touching.
Megumi’s eyes flashed over with something like exasperation before he steeled himself, and shook his head - lips sealed.
Sukuna sighed, slightly shaking his head before flipping Megumi over, shoving the shaman onto his hands and knees.
He felt Sukuna hover in the space behind him, tugging down his slacks and palming at his ass with a strangely careful regard.
“Listen closely,” the curse leaned over him as the hand on his cheeks kneaded lightly, “every time you lie to me, I’ll add more force than I did the last,” he warned lowly.
Megumi braced himself, not entirely sure of what Sukuna meant but nevertheless humiliated by their current positioning.
“So,” he hummed, “tell me what you’re hiding.”
Fuck, this was so not how he had thought the night would play out.
“I don’t know what you’re talk—“
Smack!
Megumi flinched at the open-palmed slap that landed against his rear, noting that the sting wasn’t as bad as the degradation he felt from the gesture itself - but if that was all it was, he could handle this. He’d taken worse pain.
“That’s one,” Sukuna reminded him, “how ‘bout we try again?”
Megumi grit his teeth, somewhat grateful that the curse couldn’t see the storm of emotions flittering across his face.
“What is it that you’re trying to keep from me?”
The shaman clenched his jaw.
“I told you, I don’t know wha—“
Smack!!
Megumi strained not to make a noise and thought: Okay yeah, that one kinda hurt.
“That’s two; let’s go again.”
Sukuna tightened his grip on the curve of the shaman’s hip, holding him in place.
“Tell me the truth, Megumi.”
Megumi considered the demand for a moment before deciding to give him a version what he’d asked for: a truth.
“I...I don’t want anyone to know about this...about what me and you do behind closed doors.”
The shaman shut his eyes in preparation, but there was no resounding slap on his flesh for a moment as Sukuna considered his answer.
“That may be true,” the curse finally conceded, “but that’s not what I was asking for.”
SMACK!
This time Megumi actually cried out from the sharp jolt that travelled through his nerves - feeling a burn reside in the offending shape of an imprinted hand. Noting that the force behind the blow was significantly heavier than the previous two and it only brought hurt.
The curse waited for Megumi to compose himself before he spoke again.
“That’s three,” he reminded, sounding amused, “are you sure this is a game you want to keep playing, Megumi? Because believe me I’m a willing participant, but you should know, if you continue to spout bullshit I’ll only be rougher.”
This was the opposite of what Megumi had been attempting to achieve. He’d been trying to avoid any injury and thus negate the need for reversed curse techniques being used. Yet, he thought that telling Sukuna about Gojou’s increasing suspicion would still be worse than this - so instead, he dug in his heels and accepted whatever was coming.
“Do your worst.”
Megumi managed to hold out all the way until the curse got to ten, at which point The shaman had been reduced to nothing but a sore, bruised, trembling sack of flesh.
The pain he felt was so unique that he didn’t exactly know how to qualify it. It wasn’t pleasant - that much was clear from the sting of tears beading his lashes - but it wasn’t the same as taking a full power shot in the middle of battle.
It was more subtle, and chronic in nature. Being struck in the same place over and over compounded the ache and made the burning sensation sear into a scorching fire. He wanted it to stop.
A whimper escaped the shaman when Sukuna brushed his knuckles across the pulsing area, enjoying the sight of Megumi’s muscles clenching in anticipation - in fear of a blow he couldn’t see coming.
The curse sighed.
“If you don’t give me what I want I’ll have to use something more... convincing than my fist, Megumi.”
The shaman shuddered at the obvious threat, already shivering from the cold sweat dampening his skin. And when Sukuna reached into an unseen barrier through the floor to unearth some horrible and torturous cursed object, Megumi finally broke.
“Okay!” He cried, shaking violently in his captor’s grasp, “I’ll tell you what you want!”
He just wanted the pain to stop.
A few beats of silence passed before Sukuna slowly turned him into his back so that Megumi was facing him directly, the curse’s eyes scanning his features for traces of deceit.
“I-I...” Megumi tried to start but his breaths were coming out too fast, lips wobbling too much to speak in proper sentences.
“Shhh,” the curse reached out for him, “it’s alright.”
Gentle fingers brushed stray tears from the shaman’s cheeks and cupped his jaw, thumbing at the raw skin with tender motions.
“It’s all over as long as you tell me the truth,” Sukuna cooed sweetly, making comforting sounds that eased Megumi’s frayed state of mind - a fact that he hated.
The shaman leaned into the warm touch more fully, breath tempering with each second he lost himself further inside the bloody depths of Sukuna’s gaze.
“Gojou knows about us,” he whispered honestly, voice hoarse, “or he knows something.”
The curse simply stared at him, waiting for more of an explanation.
Turning his head away, Megumi continued.
“He can see cursed techniques and he noticed the ones you’ve been using on-on me.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna commented, tone flat and unimpressed. The shaman nodded instantly, wincing at the sudden throb of pain that shot through his base.
“I thought...I thought that if I did what you wanted that you wouldn’t have to use them and eventually the techniques would fade,” he admitted in a small voice.
“I didn’t want you to make me do anything worse than before so I...” he trailed off, voice shriveling as he watched the curse raise his hand - poised to strike.
Megumi cowered.
“Wait-wait please! Please I swear! I swear that’s it...please...please don’t...”
He shook violently, arms drawn up to cover his face before the curse tugged them apart while Megumi hiccuped out a sob of fear.
The curse leaned down to lick away the shaman’s fresh tracks of tears, grinning widely.
“It’s so nice when you beg like this,” he chuckled darkly, brushing back the hair from Megumi’s brow, “but it is somewhat disappointing that you thought good behavior would keep me from tearing you apart,” he hissed against Megumi’s jaw, nipping lightly.
“But you said-“
Sukuna cut him off.
“Your problem, is that you think you know what I want,” the curse’s voice rumbled inside Megumi’s chest.
“But believe me,” he started, “I want so much more than your human mind could possibly comprehend.”
The statement rang out so forcefully from Sukuna’s lips that the words themselves seemed to emanate some deep, hidden furl of danger. The kind of presence that made the alarms sound inside of Megumi’s head to use caution, tread lightly...run away.
“ Do not lie to me again ,” the curse warned in a voice that was as low and it was chilling. But then, just for a second, something almost like loneliness flashed behind the demon’s gaze.
What was that?
The shaman didn’t have a chance to think before the curse pulled what remained of his clothing off and then stripped himself bare, using a single hand to hold Megumi’s above his head.
Sukuna’s knees bracketed either of the shaman’s shoulders as his thickened length pressed at Megumi’s lips, smearing clear fluid.
“Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, why don’t we pick up where we left off earlier?”
The curse peered down at him with a feral look of excitement as he slid his cock inside the boy’s mouth.
Megumi let his mind slip toward nothingness as he gagged around the familiar heat - and somewhere in the recesses of his conscious thought Megumi wondered how much longer he would survive his kind of torture.
How much longer would he be a toy?
The shaman lost count of how many times Sukuna had denied him release, and how many times Sukuna had found his own inside of the shaman’s aching walls.
The force of each thrust slammed the small of his back against the tatami, his shoulders and head against the grain, shrieks of pain tore through his limbs, even as tidal waves of pleasure drowned out the discomfort.
A sudden growl silenced Megumi with a shock as Sukuna leaned in to clamp down on the shaman’s lower lip with his teeth and tug.
The taste of copper flooded into Megumi’s mouth, while Sukuna’s cock was pummeling into him with a force that burned, and filled, and fit him like nothing else could.
He felt his own swollen, leaking cock bob helplessly against his stomach - completely untouched as the euphoric buzz of another impending climax built. Large hands slammed on either side of his ears while the force of Sukuna pounding inside him pushed Megumi’s voice to new heights. The shaman whimpered, and begged with abandon between each cry of pleasure.
Please, please, PLEASE...
He thought, hoping Sukuna might let him come before his skin actually fizzled and singed right off of his bones.
His nerves had been shot since for some time, and his spine was reacting to every movement like a live wire - bending and snapping wildly in tandem with the curse’s hips.
Sukuna panted heavily above him, eyes reflecting back like two crimson moons with a seemingly endless wealth of lust and brutality as heat crackled white-hot between every grind of simmering flesh on flesh - sweat slipping freely between them, boiling as it slickened each carnal motion.
Megumi’s head was completely devoid of all rational thought as he keened at a particularly sharp thrust that Sukuna gave him, earning a prideful smirk.
“Good boy,” Sukuna praised, the rough words tearing into Megumi - ripping open his chest and exposing his thundering heart anew.
Somewhere deep inside him, he’d been craving that approval, yearning for some kind of affirmation. It was always Sukuna who seemed to give it.
“ Megumi ,” the curse rasped out his name, voice hot, molten steel in the shaman’s ears as fingers squeezed tighter around his wrists, “you should just stay here beneath me...” he smiled into his skin.
“Just accept that you want this.”
Megumi’s heart suddenly flipped before he smacked it down under his fist and kept it there - flattened, crumpled, and bleeding out.
I don’t want to want that , he reminded himself even as tears ran down his cheeks unbidden.
He choked back unspoken pleas, eyes raking up and across the plains of Sukuna’s tattooed body, unable to look anywhere else.
You don’t want me.
The curse’s devastating smirk gleamed feral, face mindless with concentration, wholly intent on wrecking Megumi’s ability to ever walk without feeling the sensation of that cock pulsing, hard, hot, and swollen with arousal inside of him.
His arms were still strewn above his head, fingers twitching into the splintered floor; stomach quivering as Sukuna trailed blackened fingertips up the corded muscle.
Megumi’s thighs trembled, his core sweltering. He wasn’t sure he could speak, or breathe, he wasn’t sure of anything except the blissful climb of increasing speed with which Sukuna fucked into him.
Sukuna is evil .
Teeth bared, the curse wrenched him back, impaling deeper. His ruthless hands gripping the shaman’s ankles with a bruising strength, straightening Megumi’s legs and propping his ankles on Yuuji’s shoulders at either side of his neck.
He isn’t human .
The curse’s thrusts came harsher, and more erratically as Megumi felt his release gathering like bolts of lightning. Sizzling through every vein in his body until he felt like he could burst.
But...he was once, wasn’t he?
A shudder ripped through Megumi, a moan echoing from the depths of his chest as he felt the world go blessedly silent for a moment, ears ringing. He vaguely registered that a splash of cum spurted across his stomach - figuring it was his own - as it settled warmly atop his feverish skin.
Sukuna kept fucking into him, pace just as unforgiving, and abruptly it all became too much - so much more than it had even been the first time.
Whimpers tumbled out from Megumi’s slackened jaw as he quaked with every intense wash of overstimulation, chest heaving, cock twitching intermittently in-between. His face was tucked away against Sukuna’s throat as shivers racked through his limbs, his ravaged body riding out the storm.
The unsteady drum of Yuuji’s heart against his ear broke the dam he’d been desperately building and Megumi shut his eyes as the escaped well of emotion flooded into his throat and pooled behind his eyelids.
Panic built up in the shaman’s lungs, tightening around his neck like a noose as he sucked in a frantic breath and forgot to release it.
His heart was thrashing against his ribs and howling for freedom - ripping at his guts in desperation to escape the cage that Megumi had locked it in.
Rough palms grazed the length of the shaman’s hips, waist, ribcage; his stomach quivering beneath the curse’s impatient caress; dark fingertips drifting over the scattered, erratic thrum in Megumi’s chest and up to grasp his jaw.
Sukuna’s breath was soft and searing against his throat; he felt like crying.
“It’s alright, Megumi,” the curse murmured sweetly, “let it out.”
The tender, unfamiliar tone set off Megumi’s rioting pulse to ransack any semblance that remained of his composure.
It was impossible to feel so much without snapping into two. He couldn’t take on any more than this without completely unraveling.
He didn’t know what to do - he’d forgotten how to form words - and a part of him actually believed that Sukuna would be there to fuck him through it until the feeling of being ripped open from the inside while everything else poured out stopped.
“ Sukuna ...”
The name shuddered out of Megumi, spilt from his lips like ink across a page, careless and unguarded; and the incessant crash and rock of their hips came to a slow crawl as the curse tensed before releasing inside of him; teeth clenched around Megumi’s shoulder - the pain going unnoticed.
The shaman felt steady fingers run through the raven-colored hair behind his ear - a hand drop to rest on the back of his neck and rub small, calming circles into his overly sensitized skin.
"Don't-" He gasped out, afraid - not sure if he could bear being touched and not sure he didn't need it like oxygen at the same time.
"Relax,” Sukuna whispered, pressing gentle kisses to the boy’s ravaged features.
He guided Megumi upright, only to let the shaman fall boneless against his broad chest, spent and trembling as fat tears silently rolled down his cheeks while Sukuna’s cock slipped out of him.
The boy shivered when the curse wiped his face with the backs of his hands, and wept when his strong ink-splattered arms pulled him in - held him together - grounded him.
“You did well.”
Chapter 9: A Gay Panic
Summary:
“The room was so unbearably quiet that Itadori could make out the distinct, rhythmic thump of his own heartbeat, pulsing frantically the longer he stayed here.”
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Yuuji was currently experiencing - what he could only describe as - a gay panic.
He found himself constantly side-tracked, stealing secret glances at Fushiguro every few seconds from where he was perched on the couch – the other boy sitting casually on the ground directly in front of him with his back leaned against the cushions.
By some miracle; despite all of his initial displays of awkwardness and half-stuttered responses - no thanks to his newly surfaced, straight-up confusing feelings – his friend had decided to stay in his proximity, agreeing to watch some random action movie while the shaman practiced control over his own cursed energy.
That, by itself, should’ve been enough for him, really; and the slumbering stuffed bear in his grip should have been enough of an incentive for him to pay attention to the task at hand - literally - and yet despite that, still , Itadori couldn’t stop himself from staring…
He hadn’t ever really noticed before…certain…recent events, just how pretty Fushiguro was. What with his dark raven hair reflecting the soft light coming off from the T.V., or his long, dark lashes that framed sharp, intelligent, jade-colored eyes.
He wondered, dumbstruck, how he’d missed that before.
You’re pathetic.
Itadori blinked, unshaken by Sukuna’s sudden, intrusive insult echoing through his mind. That asshole really never shut up.
I already know that. He responded back.
The chatter of the actors in the movie faded to white noise as Itadori’s pulse began thrumming stronger and louder in his ears with each passing second – his blood coursing hotly beneath his skin. Too hot, making him feel almost feverish if he had to describe it, but it wasn’t exactly unpleasant either.
He found his gaze fixated on the slight curls tipping the ends of Fushiguro’s hair, sticking up in random, disarrayed patterns around the crown of his head.
He was struck by the sudden urge to touch it, to feel the strands between the pads of his fingertips and let it slip through his hands - brushing along his knuckles.
Acting impulsively, without another thought, he did exactly that – his hand suddenly lost within the downy sensation flittering across the callouses of his palm as he ran his fingers throughout Fushiguro’s scalp.
His heart was climbing up his throat, looking to jump out and land right into the other boy’s lap.
He stiffened at Yuuji’s initial, abrupt intrusion, but surprisingly, didn’t pull away or chastise him like Yuuji expected that he would. Instead, Megumi simply leaned into his touch, the boy’s tensed shoulders sagging comfortably as he did so.
Yuuji remained frozen in place, breath hitched, as his free hand still threaded lightly through Fushiguro’s hair. He gave into his initial curiosity seconds later, and let his twitching fingers roam through the silky raven-colored strands, still captivated by the way Fushiguro’s locks seemed to bounce back into their original, bizarre positions as he let each one go.
Seconds passed between them just like that, peacefully silent before a true thought actually cemented itself in Itadori’s brain.
Was this, like, okay?
“Um, your hair is super soft,” He deadpanned into the silence with amber eyes blown wide and shaking - staring at his friend in nervous anticipation of his response. But, to Yuuji’s surprise, little actually changed in Fushiguro’s expression save for the beginnings of a smirk that tugged at the boy’s lips.
“Is it?” He asked simply, eyes cutting to glance at him from the side.
“Y-yeah,” he responded lamely.
The silence then resumed, and Itadori, consequentially, panicked.
“Is this like...weird?”
He asked and the second the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself in the forehead and sew his mouth shut for the rest of eternity. He fucking sucked at this.
“S’fine idiot,” Fushiguro sighed, sinking back into the couch even further, “it’s not like you being impulsive is anything new.”
Yuuji swallowed thickly at that, assuming that it meant he had the other boy’s permission to continue and prayed to whatever gods he could think of that his hand didn’t start sweating as he continued to comb through Fushiguro’s hair, gingerly – as gently as he could manage in this flustered state.
He wondered, absently, if Fushiguro liked this - if the repetitive, rhythmic motions actually felt as good as he thought they might, if the way Megumi seemed to melt into them, with his eyelids going all half-glazed was anything to go by.
Shit , he thought, blushing, he’s so cute.
As the minutes wore on and the movie continued, Itadori had to forcibly hold back a chuckle as Fushiguro started nodding off, clearly falling asleep under the trance of his hand.
Just like a cat, he thought, thoroughly amused – pressing his lips tightly together to hold in his laughter. Though, when Fushiguro’s head lolled to the side before the boy caught himself, Yuuji actually did let out a snicker.
“Shut up,” the shaman grumbled hoarsely in response, eyes still shut.
And Yuuji did...for a while anyway. But once his initial lovestruck admiration for his friend simmered he began to notice other things too - like how Megumi’s skin looked paler than normal, or how his neck suddenly seemed so thin under his grip.
Had he lost some weight? He considered briefly, but dismissed the idea just as fast. It wasn’t like Fushiguro to ignore his own health.
Itadori let his knuckles knot carefully into Fushiguro’s soft strands, and using little to no effort tugged on the shaman’s roots until Megumi let his head roll back fully - jade-colored orbs boring into Yuuji’s, yet somehow lacking in their typical sharpness. And when Itadori looked, really looked at his friend...
Fushiguro suddenly looked so tired .
Bone-tired, soul-tired, the kind of exhausted that Yuuji had only felt after coming back from Yoshino’s death.
He had no clue as to what exactly could’ve caused Fushiguro to slip into such a state, and momentarily wondered if he was just imagining it, but the shaded circles under his friend’s red rims didn’t lie.
It was actually kind of startling to see someone he considered strong look so, well, fragile .
“Are you—“ the question died in Yuuji’s throat as he watched an unsettling desperation flicker briefly across the other boy’s gaunt features. The kind of warning that said ‘please don’t say anything about this’.
It was as jolting as it was surreal - to realize that Fushiguro was seemingly trusting him, being vulnerable, raw even as he let himself just be in his presence. It felt like they’d been sitting at an uncomfortable distance for so long until now.
And as much as Itadori felt the urge to scoop the other shaman into his arms and kiss away all of the tired lines on his face - god he needed to get it together - he managed to hold back. Squashing the desire under his boot like it was an insect.
That’s not what Megumi needed from him right now.
Reluctantly, Yuuji withdrew his hand from Fushiguro’s scalp - not missing the way that his friend seemed to chase after the warmth - and blurted out the first thing he could think of.
“Wanna read the new Shonen I got last week?”
Megumi let out a breath in a way that sounded almost like a laugh, and smiled back at him softly - sending his heart into chaos as some form of life returned to the boy’s gaze.
“If that’s what you want.”
After flipping through most of the recent volume of One-Punch Man , Itadori felt a firm, steady weight gradually lean into him.
Glancing in the direction, Yuuji found that Fushiguro had finally fallen asleep by his side. Though a part of him wished that his friend had done so anywhere else so that he didn’t have to keep his own raging hormones in check.
“ Hey ,” he whispered to the other boy in a soft voice, “Fushiguro.”
Still, the shaman didn’t stir, and Yuuji raised a suspicious brow, leaned forward, and nudged the boy with a quick dart of his index finger, poking his cheek while holding in a breath.
“Are you like…seriously asleep?” He questioned.
Fushiguro grumbled back unintelligibly, and Yuuji considered his options – feeling paranoid that the universe was determined to turn his life into a long-drawn-out scene from a shoujo manga.
Steeling his heart, and shoving down all flares of anxiety in his gut, he worked to gently maneuver Fushiguro into his arms – and after a few painstaking efforts, he was successful.
He was, however, surprised at how light Megumi felt given the respectable build he maintained, but decided it just made this kind of thing easier for him and put it out of his mind.
The smaller boy shifted slightly as Yuuji carried him from the basement towards their wing of the living quarters in the schoolyard, his hand gripping onto Itadori’s uniform tightly.
It’s not cute, it’s not cute, it is NOT cute -
“Yuu..?” Fushiguro mumbled sleepily, bringing all thoughts in Itadori’s mind to a screeching halt as his brain imploded.
Blazing tendrils of warmth flooded from within his chest outward, spreading the fierce feelings of affection he had through his limbs – burning even hotter as it started to pool down south.
Shit, he thought, fumbling to open the door to Fushiguro’s bedroom.
Once successfully inside, he laid the shaman down as gently as he could manage, legs first and then his upper half; and when he set Fushiguro’s head atop the sheets he couldn’t ignore how close their proximity had gotten.
He still had one hand resting along the back of Fushiguro’s nape, a thumb ridged along the smaller boy’s jaw. His other arm was planted firmly into the space beside the shaman’s head - fingers creating small divots in the mattress from the pressure.
The room was so unbearably quiet that Itadori could make out the distinct, rhythmic thump of his own heartbeat, pulsing frantically the longer he stayed here.
Mouth dry, Itadori leaned back, resting his weight onto his knees as he looked over Fushiguro’s sleeping form, and let his hand shift from the boy’s nape to cradle his cheek.
So pretty. Yuuji thought, face red as he memorized the subtle differences on Megumi’s relaxed expression, unaware of his own small smile.
“ Mmm …”
He froze when Fushiguro shifted onto his side, nuzzling further into the palm of Yuuji’s hand. Unable to resist, the shaman tested fate by brushing a thumb across the other boy’s unsuspecting lips.
They were so soft , molding around his touch - a warm invitation that made Itadori’s blood spark into flame.
He wanted to see what it felt like beyond the entrance, how it tight it would squeeze around him when he pushed deeper into that warm, wet enclave.
Yuuji heard his own breath hitch when Fushiguro’s lips pursed reflexively, pillowing dangerously around his finger and sending a barrage of unwelcome thoughts that went straight to his cock.
And suddenly, his pants seemed far too tight.
“Why are you getting excited?!” he hissed quietly at his offending crotch, eyeing his erect member with disdain before moving to pull away – saving himself the regret that would surface if he crossed the line any further than this.
Raking a hand through his own scalp, Itadori made his way back to the door, hearing a faint click that signaled it shut securely behind him before a familiar voice stopped him in his tracks.
“ Oh? You’re really just leaving it at that when you’ve got the perfect opportunity? Coward.”
Itadori felt his hands ball into fists, knuckles paling from the force behind his own grip.
“Go away, this doesn’t involve you,” he warned quietly.
A devious bout of laughter tore through the hallway until Yuuji smacked a palm on top of the slit that had opened in his cheek. Seconds later, the mouth reappeared on the opposite side of his face.
“Don’t be so naïve, brat. Everything you do involves me; or did you already forget that?”
Yuuji grit his jaw, teeth set over one another in jagged rows.
“Why don’t you have some fun with him? He’s basically begging you to take advantage, falling asleep so carelessly with a face like that.”
“I’d never do something like that, and tempting me isn’t gonna work. I’m not like you.” Yuuji hissed back, shaking his head.
“Not like me?” Sukuna teased, snickering, “are you sure about that?”
“Killing humans, creating chaos, and satisfying your own needs even when its dishonest,” Yuuji felt the guilt form heavy in his gut, “I’d say you’re quite a bit like me; wouldn’t you agree brat?”
“ That’s enough .”
Itadori felt the apparition recede back into his core, and then set off toward his own room, debating whether or not he should take a long, cold shower.
He didn’t need Sukuna to remind him of the monster he’d become, he was well aware of that development already.
But if he could protect Fushiguro, Kugisaki, and Gojou from the evil that lurked beneath his skin he would do it – even if that meant destroying what little remained of his humanity. He didn’t want to hurt those he’d grown close to at the very least.
‘You’re a strong kid, so help others.’
That was his curse, after all.
Notes:
BWAHAHAHA! I am back babyyyyyyyy! Thank you so so much to everyone who commented or left a kudos in the last long stretch from the previous update to now, I really needed the laughs, love, and fellow-horndoginess to continue this hahaha
I hope to get this story back on track with semi-regular updates, and pray you all continue to enjoy reading it as much as I do creating it.
I wanted to give the itafushi fans a bit more love today with some soft moments between our best boys, BUT, mark me the sukufushi train gon’ be hittin’ it next time!
As always please let me know your thoughts below! Y’all are the best! xoxoxoxo
P.S. Over 4100 kudos, LETS GOOOOOO!!!
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