#xani-writes: megumi fics

[winxanity-ii]

BIG FAT MEANY

ship: stepbro!megumi x fem!reader warnings: nsfw 🔞 (p in v, fingering, dub-con); overbearing/possessive brother (aged up: reader and megumi are in early 20s) word count: 4.5k (lololo forgive me y'all got a bit carried away with the storybuilding 💀 promise this won't happen all the time jajaja ) A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before... ★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You weren't a hateful person. Not at all.

In fact, you were practically a ball of sunshine—inside and out.

You loved everything.

It was the simple things in life that made your heart flutter: the moon on a clear night, the smell of fresh rain, lazy afternoons spent with your friends from college, and, of course, your family.

Especially the love between your mom and stepdad, Toji.

He came into you and your mom's life at a time when things were pretty dark—your dad had been having an affair with his secretary, and your mom was left heartbroken. But then, when you were fifteen, Toji walked into the picture, and everything changed for the better.

Out of all the things you cherished, though, there was one thing—one person—you absolutely hated.

Your stepbrother, Megumi.

You hated how mean he was to you.

How he always managed to push your buttons.

How he treated you like a child, even though you were only a year younger than him.

And what you hated the most?

How pushy he got when things didn't go his way.

"Megumi, I said stop!" you whined, pushing at his annoyingly close chest.

Your mind could only race, trying to piece together exactly how you ended up in this predicament.

The night had started simply enough. It was a Friday—date night for your mom and Toji, which meant the house was practically dead.

Normally, you would've just stayed at your dorm, but tonight was different. Your dormmates had been all over you about some party happening on campus, trying to drag you along, but you weren't in the mood.

You'd barely been able to dodge their constant nagging, so instead of getting sucked into something you didn’t want to do, you decided to come home.

A weekend in your room sounded a lot better than getting roped into a night of drinking and chaos.

But instead of holing up and rotting away in your room, Megumi had caught you on your way upstairs. He'd asked—well, more like insisted—if you wanted to watch a movie with him.

It had been a little out of the ordinary, but you shrugged and went along with it, thinking it'd be a decent way to pass the time. And for a while, it had been fine. You both settled on the couch, watching the newest Scream movie.

Until now.

"Megumi, what's your problem? It's just Yuji..." you finally managed, voice small as you sat up properly on the couch, trying to put some distance between the two of you.

"My problem?" he repeated, scoffing like you'd just said something ridiculous. "My problem is you acting like you don't know what’s going on. That picture—he sent it to you for a reason. But you're sitting here like it’s no big deal."

Your brow furrowed, hurt blooming in your chest at what he was insinuating. You hated it when Megumi got like this—sharp-tongued, confrontational, like everything you did somehow annoyed him.

All over a damn picture...

It wasn't even a big deal, honestly. You and Yuji were just chatting as always when among the messages he sent a picture of himself fresh out of soccer practice.

You could vividly recall the boyish grin plastered across his face, eyes bright with his usual warmth.

But it wasn't just the smile that caught your attention.

His shirt, the one you knew had probably been soaked with sweat from practice, was pulled halfway up, wiping at his forehead. It casually exposed the lean muscles of his abdomen, glistening faintly from practice.

He hadn't done it on purpose—he probably didn't even think twice about sending it knowing him—but the way his body looked in the picture was enough to make your face burn upon seeing it.

But apparently, what wasn't a big deal to you, was to Megumi...

"Is he your boyfriend or something?" he demanded, glaring down at you. "Yuji, I mean. Is that why you're all flustered? Because he sent you some half-naked picture and now you’re freaking out like some lovesick idiot?"

"What are we, twelve?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and turning your body away from him, your tone sharp. "For your information, it's none of your business what Yuji is to me. We're in college, Megumi. I don't owe you any explanations."

You could feel the heat rise to your face again, but this time it wasn’t just from the embarrassment. It was the fact that he felt like he had any right to badger you about this.

He wasn't your parent, your guardian—hell, he wasn't even a friend half the time with the way he acted.

"Why do you even care?" you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to him. "You're always like this. Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong."

You didn't see the way his jaw clenched or how his gaze sharpened at your words. You were too focused on staring at the wall, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling in your chest.

You stood up abruptly, ready to head back to your room, away from his snappy attitude.

But just as you turned, a large hand wrapped around your wrist, halting your steps.

You froze, looking over your shoulder to see Megumi. He was staring up at you through his dark hair, head tilted slightly, a burning look in his eyes that made your heart race in a way you didn't like. His grip was firm but not painful—just enough to keep you there.

"Megumi, let go," you huffed, your lips pouting as your eyebrows furrowed in frustration. You gave a light tug on your arm, but his hand didn't budge.

He didn't say anything, just kept staring at you, his expression unreadable. That silence—his stubborn, infuriating silence—only made your frustration build.

Why did he have to be like this?

"I said let go!" you repeated, yanking on your arm harder this time, but his grip tightened. You felt a hot flash of anger rise in your chest.

"If you don't—" you started, your voice trembling with frustration, "I'm gonna tell Mom and Toji when they get home."

His eyes flickered for a second, and just as the words left your mouth, he scoffed, standing up in one smooth motion, his form towering over yours.

You could feel the heat of him, the intensity of his presence making you instinctively take a small step back.

"What?" he sneered, his voice low and mocking. "You're gonna tell them that you're whoring around?"

You gasped, your eyes going wide in shock, heart slamming in your chest. "What the hell, Megumi?" you started, but the words barely made it past your lips before he cut you off, stepping even closer, his voice quick and biting.

Megumi stepped even closer, his body towering over yours as he stared down at you through his dark lashes, his voice dropping into something almost mocking.

"Or are you gonna run to Toji?" he taunted, his lips curling into a smirk that sent a shiver down your spine. "I bet you'd like that, huh? Telling him how mean I'm being to you... like some helpless little girl."

Your breath hitched, your back pressing against the wall as he closed the space between you, his presence overwhelming. You felt cornered, heat rising to your cheeks in a way you couldn’t control. His words, the way he looked at you—it all left you speechless.

You hated that he had this effect on you, hated the way he made your pulse race, not just from anger but something deeper, something you couldn't quite place.

Megumi leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Or maybe you like it when I'm mean to you. Is that it? You're always whining, but you never tell them, do you? Why's that?"

You cleared your throat, trying to steady yourself, your eyes darting off to the side to avoid the intensity of his gaze. "B-because," you stammered, voice barely above a whisper, your cheeks still burning hot.

You swallowed hard, finally meeting his eyes, though the way he was looking down at you made your heart pound even harder. "Because… you're my big brother..."

You expected him to laugh, to scoff at you like he always did, but instead, his expression didn't change. If anything, something darker flickered in his eyes as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" he asked quietly, his voice low and almost dangerous. "That it's just because I'm your big brother?" He tilted his head slightly, still staring down at you, his eyes narrowing just a bit. "You sure that's it?"

You could feel the heat rushing to your face again, heart pounding painfully in your chest as you struggled to find words, any words, to push him away.

Your mind raced, and though you wanted to focus on the anger bubbling up, a different thought crept in, unwanted but undeniable.

Megumi was attractive.

Like, really, really attractive.

You hated to admit it, but standing there, inches from him, it was impossible to ignore. He towered over you, standing at least six feet tall, his broad shoulders filling out the plain black t-shirt he wore.

You could see the faint outline of his muscles beneath the fabric, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the strong line of his jaw clenched in irritation. His dark hair fell over his forehead in that effortless way it always did, messy but somehow perfect, framing his sharp, intense features.

And those eyes—Gods, those eyes.

Even though they were currently glaring down at you with frustration, you couldn't deny the pull they had. Dark, stormy, and filled with an intensity that made it hard to hold his gaze for long. They were the kind of eyes that could make anyone feel small, vulnerable, and you hated how they always managed to affect you.

Your breath hitched as you let yourself take him in for just a moment too long, your body betraying you with a sharp jolt of attraction. But no—no.

You weren't going to go there.

This was Megumi, your stepbrother, and as good as he looked, he was being a complete asshole right now.

You shook your head quickly, trying to rid yourself of the thought. Stop it. Stop thinking like that.

Clearing your throat, you took a deep breath and straightened up, attempting to put on your most serious face, even though your heart was still hammering in your chest.

"Look, 'Gumi," you began, your voice sounding steadier than you felt, using the nickname you had given him years ago. It rolled off your tongue easily, a little too familiar for the situation at hand, but you needed something to ground yourself. "I'm not sure what’s wrong. And I'm sorry if I did anything to make you upset, but you have got to stop this..."

You trailed off, knowing full well what the 'this' was. And deep down, Megumi knew too. It wasn't just about Yuji, or any other guy, really. It was him. It was how he acted—how he always got so weirdly possessive, so jealous, whenever another guy so much as talked to you.

You didn't even have to be interested in them; the mere mention of someone else was enough to set him off.

You'd seen it countless times. The sharp glares, the biting comments, the way his jaw would tighten at the mention of a boy's name.

It was always the same, this constant undercurrent of envy and jealousy that never made sense, and it wasn't just a protective brother thing.

No, it was something else.

Something darker.

Something you weren't ready to acknowledge.

Megumi's jaw clenched, and for a second, you thought he was going to say something or maybe even do something.

You braced yourself, heart racing with both frustration and something you didn't want to name.

But instead, he let go of your wrist, taking a step back.

"Fine…" he muttered, his voice low and almost too calm. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

You blinked, momentarily thrown off. Megumi? Apologizing?

He never apologized to you, not like this. Usually, he'd just brush you off, act like whatever happened didn't matter or somehow turn it back on you. But now, here he was, actually acknowledging his behavior.

It felt strange, and you weren't quite sure how to respond.

"Uh, well, um, thank you…" you mumbled, still processing.

It didn't feel real, this sudden shift. But before you could dwell on it for too long, you turned to leave again, ready to retreat to the safety of your room where you could put distance between yourself and this confusing whirlwind of emotions.

But just as you began to walk away, you felt it again—his hand, firm around your wrist.

He wasn't letting you go.

"Where's my apology?" he asked, his tone unsettlingly calm.

"Huh?" you responded, confused by the sudden demand. Your brain barely had time to catch up with the words before Megumi yanked you forward, pulling you off balance.

You stumbled, instinctively putting your hands up to steady yourself, but you ended up falling into his chest instead.

You gasped, your hands pressing against the solid warmth of him, trying to create some space, but Megumi's arm wrapped around your waist, holding you close.

The heat from his body seeped into yours, making it impossible to ignore how solid and overwhelming he felt against you.

"Megumi—" you started, breathless, but the rest of your sentence was cut off as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice soft and commanding.

"Shush…" he murmured, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's just finish the movie."

With that, he pulled you back down onto the couch next to him, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you tethered to his side. You were practically sitting on his lap, his arm still holding you close, and your mind was spinning, trying to wrap itself around what was happening.

The movie played in the background, but you couldn't focus on anything except the heavy tension in the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours.

As you tried to shift away, to put some space between you, Megumi's voice pierced through the room, low and deliberate. "You know," he began, his hand dropping lower, his fingers brushing the inner corner of your thigh. "I just realized something… we never got to bond." He emphasized the word by gripping your thigh, his touch firm and intentional.

Your breath hitched at the contact, and your mind blanked for a second, overwhelmed by how sudden and intense his presence felt. "I-I mean, we still can," you stuttered, trying to defuse the situation, trying to keep this from going wherever it was heading.

But the way Megumi's face pulled into a wicked smirk, the sharp gleam in his eyes, made your stomach drop. He leaned in closer, licking his lips as he watched your reaction, his grip tightening slightly on your leg.

The air around you felt thick, it was as if everything had narrowed down to just this—his gaze, his hands on you, the heat of his body so close to yours.

Before you could even think of moving again, Megumi's hand suddenly gripped your jaw, his fingers firm against your skin as he turned your face toward him. His touch was possessive, controlling, and it sent a wave of something through you—part fear, part something darker that you didn't want to name.

"C'mon, look at me," he said, his voice a low murmur as he scooted even closer, towering over you now. He tilted your head back slightly, forcing you to meet his eyes, and even if you wanted to pull away, you couldn't.

His grip was too strong, too sure.

Megumi watched your reaction closely, his smirk growing as he tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "What's wrong? You don't wanna play with your big brother?" The way he said it, his voice dripping with a mock sweetness, sent shivers down your spine, and your heart pounded painfully in your chest.

"G-Gumi, the movie…" you stammered, trying to deflect, to push him away with your words, but it was no use.

You knew nothing good was going to come from this.

He just chuckled softly, his fingers gripping your jaw a little tighter as he leaned even closer, his breath hot against your skin. "Forget the movie," he muttered, his voice taking on that dangerous edge again.

Before you could react, Megumi grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them to your side with one hand.

You were startled by how effortlessly he did it—his arms didn’t even bulge, as if it was nothing for him to hold you down like this. Your heart raced even faster, panic starting to creep in as you realized how strong he really was.

You tried to squirm, to pull away, but Megumi didn't budge. His grip on you was firm, almost casual, like he was barely putting in any effort to keep you trapped against him.

Megumi tutted at you, a soft noise that somehow felt condescending, as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "The movie's still there, silly," he hummed, the warmth of his breath sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel him nosing along the contours of your neck, his presence overwhelming every one of your senses.

"Let's just play a game until the commercials are over, yeah?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, as if this were all some harmless joke to him.

"A-a game?" you stuttered, your mind struggling to keep up with what was happening. Your body felt frozen in place, your instincts screaming at you to move, to get away, but the grip he had on your wrists, the way he held you down so effortlessly, made it impossible.

"Yeah…" he whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck. "Let's play… who can last the longest."

The words didn't even fully register before you felt the sudden force of him pushing you back against the sofa.

An involuntary "oomph" escaped your lips as your back hit the cushions, and your vision blurred for a second as you stared up at the ceiling, heart pounding in your ears.

Before you could gather your thoughts, Megumi was hovering above you, his body blocking out everything else. His dark eyes raked over your face, taking in every flicker of emotion you couldn't hide, every sign of the fear and confusion coursing through you.

He didn't move, not yet, but the weight of his gaze pinned you in place as effectively as his body did.

There was something in his expression—an intensity that made your chest tighten, made it hard to breathe, and you couldn't help but feel like you were already losing whatever game this was.

Megumi let out a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating in your chest, his breath hot against your ear. "Don't worry," he murmured, his tongue flicking out to lick the curve of your ear, making you shiver. "I'll go easy on you… for now."

"Megumi—" you started, your cry cut off as his hand cupped your jaw, and he slammed his lips onto yours, his movements forceful and possessive.

Heat shot through your body, shivers running down your spine as his tongue invaded your mouth like a man starving. It was overwhelming, the way he kissed you—demanding, fierce, leaving no room for resistance.

You whimpered against his mouth, the noise muffled by the way his lips devoured yours. His hands wandered along your body, gripping, grabbing, squeezing any part of you he could find.

The pressure of his touch was firm, almost bruising, and with every place his hands explored, your body responded with an involuntary jolt of heat.

Your breath hitched as he hooked his hands under your legs, pulling them up and around his waist, his hips jolting forward into yours. The movement sent a rush of sensation through you.

You managed to tear your lips from his, gasping for air as your chest heaved. "M-Megumi…" you whined, your voice trembling, your head falling back as you tried to make sense of what was happening, what he was doing to you.

He didn't stop. Instead, he groaned low in his throat, his lips finding your neck. He licked and bit along the sensitive skin there, the rough scrape of his teeth making you shiver even as you tried to push the sensation away.

Your mind was at war with itself—one part of you frothing, screaming, fight him, get him away, the panic clawing at your chest. But the other side—the darker part, the one that you didn’t want to admit was there—was keening, practically begging for more of his attention, for more of this twisted game.

And Megumi, as if sensing the battle raging inside of you, just smiled against your skin, biting down a little harder, leaving a mark you knew wouldn't fade anytime soon.

Megumi pulled back slightly, making a deliberate show of licking his lips as he panted above you, his eyes dark and focused. "C'mon, lil sis," he murmured, rocking his hips into yours in a slow, rough rhythm that made your breath catch in your throat. "The game can't start until you're ready."

Your body betrayed you as you watched him put a hand between your bodies, his fingers easily slipping into the confines of your sleeping shorts. "Ohhh, looks like you really wanna play, huh?" he taunted, his voice laced with smugness as his fingers rubbed up and down your wet slit.

A wave of shame washed over you, your thighs twitching with the instinct to close, to shut them and stop what was happening, but his frame kept them wide open.

You couldn't escape the heat pooling low in your stomach, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. A choked whine left your mouth, your back arching involuntarily when he slipped a finger inside.

Megumi let out a groan, low and rumbling, as if he was savoring the sensation. "Damn…" he muttered under his breath, cursing softly as he felt your walls constrict around his finger. His thumb brushed over your clit, making your whole body jerk, and when he added a second finger, the fight in you began to crumble.

His fingers were relentless, rubbing and probing with a skill that left you breathless. Your legs, which had tried to resist, opened wider for him, your body moving of its own accord.

Megumi hummed in approval, a light chuckle escaping his lips as he muttered, "Good girl." The words sent a rush of conflicting emotions through you—humiliation, desire, confusion—but you couldn't stop the way your body responded to him.

And before you knew it, you found yourself overcome with an orgasm. Babbled whimpers fell from your lips as the coil within you snapped, your body shaking with the force of it.

By the time you came down from the high, Megumi had already pulled back, sitting on his haunches as he dropped your legs. You curled your legs up to your body, watching as he began to untie his drawstring sweats, his eyes still locked on you with that same wicked smirk.

You looked away just as you caught a glimpse of the dark trail of hair peeking out from his waistband, heart pounding in your chest.

At this point, you had accepted what was about to happen, and your mind raced as you braced yourself.

Megumi crawled back over you, his hands tugging at your shorts, and you barely registered the feeling as he discarded them over his shoulder. One of your legs was pulled back around his waist, the heat of his skin pressing against yours.

His body hovered over yours, and you felt him nudge your entrance with the tip of his dick, sliding it up and down along your slit.

A shiver ran through you as you struggled to keep your thoughts clear, but it was impossible under the weight of him, both physically and mentally.

"Fuck," he groaned to himself, eyes locked on where your bodies were beginning to connect.

Your breathing grew shallow, your heart racing uncontrollably, knowing that whatever came next, there was no turning back.

Megumi filled you in one swift movement, stealing your breath away. You cried out, the sound a mix of pleasure and pain echoing through the room. His groan was long and guttural, reverberating in the space between you.

Megumi's rhythm was steady, each thrust sending a jolt of shock of pleasure through your body.

It felt surreal—part of you couldn't believe you were letting this happen, but the undeniable pleasure clouded every coherent thought.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, the intensity of it all overwhelming your senses.

"That's right," Megumi grunted, his breath hot against your ear. "Take all of me."

You couldn't form words, your mind spinning, too overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

Instead, all you could do was moan and whimper, your body moving with his, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room. His hand snaked up to your throat, gripping lightly as he maintained a relentless pace.

"You like that, don't you? You like the way big brother fucks you?" he growled, his voice harsh and demanding, his thrusts becoming even more intense.

Your mind reeled, unable to speak, only nodding frantically in response as the pleasure built inside you. You could feel the pressure mounting, an orgasm threatening to wash over you as your body tensed beneath him.

Megumi seemed to notice, his hands hiking your legs up higher, deepening the angle, each movement more brutal and precise than the last.

You lay there, body writhing beneath his as he fucked you like a ragdoll, and a dark part of you couldn't help but thrill in the way he took control. His voice filled your ear with praise, breathless murmurs of "you're doing so good for me," and other words that barely registered through the haze, as if he were drunk off the feeling of you clamped around him.

Soon, his tempo shifted, becoming erratic, his grip on your hips tightening as his low moans became uncontrollable.

The intensity built until you felt warmth spreading inside you, the realization hitting you that he was coming, his release flooding your senses.

The throbbing between you two blurred together, until yours faded, and you could still feel him twitching, even as everything else calmed.

Eventually, he slowed, both of you panting, the room thick with the aftermath. You winced when he finally pulled out, a shiver running through you as you felt the hot liquid seeping out.

Megumi stood to grab cleaning supplies, gently wiping you off, his touch softer now, though still lingering in the tension of what had just occurred.

And as you lay there, watching him, all you could think was, What the fuck just happened?

[winxanity-ii]

READY SET?... YOU BET!

ship: soccer player!yuji x cheerleader!fem!reader x soccer player!megumi (aged up: reader, yuji and megumi are in early 20s) warnings: non-explicit; suggestive themes word count: 4.5k A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to let you know that i'm reposting this from my alt account, lulu-4-u in case you've seen this posted before...

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Friday afternoons weren't supposed to be like this.

You should've been back at Inkan College, practicing on your home turf, but no—the soccer team had to take over the field from Tuesday to Friday, leaving your cheer squad scrambling for a place to practice.

And now, thanks to the gym renovations at Inkan, you were all stuck at Kaisen College, borrowing their gym every Friday until further notice.

The situation wasn't ideal, but you'd take anything at this point.

As soon as you stepped into the massive space, the scent of sweat and faint cologne filled your nose.

The echo of shoes squeaking against the polished floor cut through the low hum of conversation, and you spotted Kaisen's soccer team scattered across the court.

They were warming up—stretching, chatting, completely unaware of the growing crowd of cheerleaders filtering in.

A part of you wondered if they even cared as they continued with their warm-ups and drills, seemingly unbothered by your presence.

Except for a few.

A couple of the soccer players couldn't help but glance over at your team, their eyes lingering far too long.

You caught one or two making catcalls under their breath, which only fueled the simmering annoyance you and your teammates felt.

They quickly got back to stretching when one of their coaches barked out an order, but the damage was done.

It wasn't exactly the warmest welcome.

Your manager, Momo, stood by the entrance, tapping her clipboard nervously.

You could tell she was calculating something—probably how to split the gym time without causing too much friction. She was a stickler for schedules, which, given the current chaotic situation, had saved you all a few times.

Without a word, she darted forward, straight toward two figures standing near the side of the court.

At first glance, they were just two guys, probably seniors by the look of them, but the moment Momo reached them, you realized how tiny she looked next to their towering frames.

One of them—short pink hair, a carefree smile plastered across his face—didn't seem to notice Momo's intimidation. His broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his soccer jersey, and his eyes lit up as he listened to whatever joke the other guy, standing just as tall but with dark hair that fell messily over his face, was muttering under his breath.

Momo, clipboard clutched tightly to her chest, cleared her throat.

The dark-haired guy glanced down at her, his expression a mix of boredom and curiosity, while the pink-haired one grinned wider, clearly amused by the situation.

You couldn't help but notice how Momo's usual confidence seemed to shrink as she faced them, her skittish posture a dead giveaway that she was more than a little intimidated.

Not that you could blame her—these two looked like they could flatten anyone who stood in their way if they wanted to.

As Momo continued her strained conversation with the two towering guys, one of your squadmates, Maki, spoke up softly from beside you. "Should someone go over there?" she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern.

Her twin sister, Mei, however, had no such reservations, cackling under her breath as she nudged Maki. "Why? Just look at her! She's about to have a full-blown panic attack," she whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. You could almost feel the smirk pulling at her lips.

The rest of the team exchanged confused glances, a mix of frustration and unease settling in.

Your cheer captain, Nobara, wasn't the type to let something like this slide, though. She crossed her arms, scowling as she muttered, "We shouldn't even have to go through this. All the coaches signed off on us using the gym today. This is such a waste of time."

You opened your mouth to agree, but before you could say anything, Nobara had already started moving.

With a huff, she stomped across the gym, grabbing you by the wrist in the process. "C'mon, Y/N," she grumbled, dragging you along with her.

"W-wait!" you stammered, barely keeping up with her hurried pace.

You shot a glance over at the rest of your squad, all of them staring wide-eyed as Nobara dragged you straight into the fray.

It didn't take long before you were standing face to face with Momo and the two guys, their attention shifting from your flustered manager to Nobara's fiery glare.

Nobara wasted no time. "What's the holdup?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the awkward tension like a knife. "We have the gym reserved today, so scram."

The pink-haired guy blinked, clearly surprised by her bluntness. His grin faltered for a second before returning with full force, as if he found the entire situation amusing.

The dark-haired one, on the other hand, remained as still and impassive as ever, but Nobara held her ground. "And where the hell are all your cars?" she barked, her voice echoing in the vast gym. “There's barely anyone in the parking lot, yet here are all you idiots, taking up the entire gym like it's your own private space! We had this reserved! Our coaches agreed! But no, you're still here, screwing around like you own the place."

She wasn't holding back, her frustration pouring out with every word. And while Nobara kept tearing into them, you could feel a shift in the air.

The two guys—who had seemed so relaxed moments ago—were now focused on you. It started subtly, but soon, you felt their gazes burning into your skin.

You tried to ignore it, tried to stay focused on Nobara's rant, but the sensation was overwhelming. Heat crept up along the side of your face, crawling down your neck and across your chest as their eyes raked over you, slow and deliberate.

You shifted your weight, suddenly hyper-aware of how exposed you felt in your practice attire—short spandex shorts hugging your thighs, a cropped top barely covering the sports bra beneath it.

Normally, it wasn't an issue, just the usual cheer practice gear. But under their scrutiny, it felt like you were standing there completely bare, vulnerable.

The pink-haired guy's grin faded slightly, his gaze lingering a moment too long, while the raven-haired one's expression remained unreadable, his eyes scanning you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

They didn't say anything at first, just watching. But then, the dark-haired one moved.

"Enough," he said, cutting Nobara off mid-rant, his voice calm but commanding.

Nobara's mouth snapped shut, eyes narrowing at the interruption, but the guy didn't seem fazed. His gaze briefly flickered to you before returning to her. "The soccer team's staying on campus for a training retreat," he explained smoothly. "We were informed that we'd be sharing the facilities with the sister school, but no one mentioned the cheerleading squad had the gym booked today."

His tone wasn't exactly apologetic, but there was something almost diplomatic about the way he spoke, like he knew how to diffuse tension. "We can move our practice outside to the field. The gym's all yours."

Nobara crossed her arms, still irritated, but before she could argue, the pink-haired one chimed in. "Yeah, no problem! We didn’t mean to cause any issues," he added, flashing that grin again, though this time it felt less cocky and more… friendly. "We'll clear out."

Their quick surrender caught you off guard.

It wasn't what you expected, especially after the way they'd been eyeing you. Nobara looked ready to press further, but the raven-haired guy's unwavering stare and unexpected cooperation seemed to keep her from pushing the issue any longer.

The fire in her eyes flickered for a moment, and then she huffed, crossing her arms tighter across her chest. "Uh, fine," she muttered, clearly irritated by how easily they folded. It was like all the energy she’d built up for a full-blown argument had nowhere to go.

Without waiting for another word, she turned on her heel, clapping her hands loudly as she headed back toward the squad.

"Let's go, people!" she shouted over her shoulder. "Stretch! Stretch! Stretch! We've got nationals to prepare for!" Her voice boomed across the gym as she led the charge, her hands clapping rhythmically to emphasize her point.

The cheer team sprang into action at her command, following her lead without question, some of them already shifting into warm-up positions.

You and Momo, however, remained behind for a moment longer, standing awkwardly between the two guys who had been the focus of Nobara's wrath just seconds ago.

Momo, always the one to follow protocol, quickly thanked them once again, her voice barely above a whisper. "Uh, thanks again! We appreciate it!" she squeaked before practically darting after Nobara, clipboard still pressed tightly to her chest as if it were some kind of shield.

Then, it was just you and them.

You scratched awkwardly at the side of your face, feeling the tension of the moment settle around you like an itchy sweater. "Uh, thank you," you muttered, giving the two men a small, polite bow.

When you rose, you caught them both looking at you again, their eyes sweeping over your frame with the same intensity as before. The pink-haired one, who you now realized was taller up close, stepped forward, breaking the silence.

"Hey, no problem," he said with a bright, almost boyish grin. "I'm Yuji, by the way—team captain. This is my co-captain, Megumi." He gestured toward the dark-haired guy, who gave a small nod in acknowledgment, his expression unreadable as usual.

You offered a polite smile, trying to shake off the lingering awkwardness. "I'm Y/N," you introduced yourself. "Co-captain of our cheerleading squad... and, uh, sorry about my captain. She can get a bit fired up."

Yuji laughed, the sound warm and infectious. "Nah, it's all good! Passionate captains are the best kind." His eyes brightened with genuine interest as he tilted his head. "So, what's your position? Flyer? Base?"

"Varsity flyer."

Yuji's grin widened, and he tilted his head even further, like a curious puppy. "Oh, so you're pretty flexible, huh?" he said, his tone casual but his words heavy with innuendo.

For a second, your brain short-circuited.

You blinked, feeling heat rise to your face as your mind went straight to the gutter.

But then, you glanced at Yuji's innocent, beaming smile—and Megumi’s total lack of reaction.

Maybe it was just you?

"Y-Yeah, I guess so," you stuttered, trying to keep your voice steady.

Before you could say more, Nobara's voice pierced the air from behind you. "Y/N! Quit messing around and help me stretch already!"

You flinched, turning back to Yuji and Megumi with an embarrassed giggle. "I, uh, I gotta go. Duty calls." You gave them a quick, nervous smile and turned to leave, feeling their eyes on you the whole way back to the squad.

You wiped sweat from your forehead, your body sore and aching as you stretched your arms overhead.

Practice had been brutal, and your muscles were screaming in protest.

With a tired sigh, you walked to the sidelines, pulling on your hoodie as the chill of the evening crept in.

It was nearing 7 p.m., the gym lights casting long shadows across the floor as practice finally came to an end.

Nobara had practically worked everyone to the bone. The longer practice went on, the fewer soccer players you noticed on the field outside.

You'd catch glimpses of them through the windows, their figures becoming less and less frequent whenever you were tossed into the air during routines.

By the time the sun had started to dip below the horizon, the field was nearly empty.

Your squadmates were just as exhausted, pulling on their jackets and finishing the last drops of water from their bottles. You could hear their quiet groans and heavy breathing as they packed up their gear, the sound of sneakers shuffling against the polished floor.

Nobara clapped her hands sharply, rounding everyone up for one last pep talk before you could all head home.

"Alright, listen up!" she barked, her tone still sharp despite the weariness in her own voice. "I know today was rough, but we've got nationals coming up, and there’s no room for slacking off!" She paused for a moment, wrinkling her nose as she glanced around the gym. "And honestly, can you believe the state of this place? Kaisen's gym is a joke. The equipment's ancient, and don't get me started on the smell."

A few of the girls chuckled tiredly, but Nobara didn't linger on the complaints for long. She quickly shifted gears, her expression hardening with determination. "That being said, we need to tighten up! That routine wasn't perfect, and we can't afford any screw-ups. We've got one shot, and we're gonna give it everything we’ve got. Understood?"

The sound of tired but enthusiastic "whoops" filled the gym, everyone too exhausted to muster anything more. Nobara clapped her hands again, signaling the end of practice. "Alright, that’s it! Get your stuff, go home, and rest up. We'll hit it harder next week."

You grabbed your things, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle over you like a blanket.

Your teammates were already filing out, chatting quietly among themselves, their bags slung over their shoulders as they made their way to the doors.

The sound of sneakers against the floor faded into the background, and soon, it was just you, your aching muscles, and the quiet hum of the empty gym.

You were shuffling your bag onto your arm when you heard footsteps behind you. Turning, you saw Momo and Nobara making their way over, both looking just as tired as you but clearly still running through their mental checklists.

"Kasumi's been solid lately," Nobara said, crossing her arms as she stopped in front of you. "I'm thinking about promoting her to backup flyer."

You nodded, adjusting the strap of your bag. "Yeah, totally agree. Kasumi's been killing it in the stunts, and she’s got the energy. She's a good choice,for sure."

Momo nodded quickly, scribbling on the clipboard before tucking it under her arm as she chimed in. "I'll make a note to talk to her next session."

A chilly breeze swept through the gym as the three of you walked toward the exit, the cool air a stark contrast to the warmth and sweat of practice.

The doors creaked as you pushed them open, stepping out into the dimly lit parking lot.

The gym behind you had become quiet, almost eerily so, with the earlier sounds of practice and drills fading into the distance.

The lot, which had been full of cars and people earlier, was now nearly empty. All that remained were the scattered vehicles of you, Nobara, and Momo, the only signs of life left after a long, grueling practice.

You could see the condensation forming on the windows of your car as the temperature dropped, the once bustling energy of the gymnasium now a distant memory.

"Well, at least the next few practices should be a little smoother," Nobara muttered, glancing over her shoulder at the now-darkened gym. "If Kaisen can get their act together, maybe we can actually get some work done."

Momo laughed softly, pulling her jacket tighter around her. "One can only hope."

You gave Nobara and Momo one final wave as you unlocked your car door, watching them head toward their own vehicles. The cool metal of your car's handle felt like a relief after the long day, and you were more than ready to head home.

Settling into your seat, you pulled the seatbelt over your chest and clicked it into place. With a tired sigh, you were just about to turn the ignition when your phone buzzed from the passenger seat.

Glancing at the screen, you saw a message from Fujinuma, one of your spotters:

Hey! I left my arm compression sleeve in the locker room. Could you grab it for me? It’s my last pair—should be near the lower lockers by the sinks.

You groaned, letting your head drop back against the seat. "Of course," you muttered to yourself, pulling your seatbelt back off with a click. "Things that come with having responsibilities..."

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you reluctantly pushed the car door open and stepped back into the brisk night air. The wind had picked up a little, sending a chill through your hoodie as you trudged back toward the gym.

The silence of the empty parking lot felt heavier now, with only your footsteps breaking the stillness as you made your way back inside.

The gym's door creaked as you pushed it open, the faint echo of your steps bouncing off the empty walls. In the short amount of time since your group had left, the gym lights had already been turned off.

The sudden darkness sent a small shiver down your spine. "Creepy," you muttered under your breath, hugging your arms close as you quickly retraced your steps to the locker room.

You'd only used the locker room once before, during the last practice, so you weren't exactly familiar with its layout.

The long, narrow hallway that led to it felt even more unnerving now, the dim emergency lights casting strange shadows on the walls. The sound of your footsteps echoed slightly, the quiet hum of the building adding to the eerie atmosphere.

As you pushed open the door to the locker room, you expected to find complete silence—just an empty space waiting for you to grab Fujinuma's sleeve. But instead, as you stepped further into the room, the sound of rushing water hit your ears.

You froze for a second, your heart skipping a beat, eyes widening as you squinted toward the steam creeping from the lit showers around the corner. Shit, you thought, panic prickling your skin. Who the hell is still here?

Your heart raced, but you shook your head, trying to focus. Get the sleeve, get out, you told yourself, forcing your mind back to the task at hand.

Pulling out your phone, you quickly skimmed over Fujinuma's message again. "Lower locker, near the sink," you mumbled under your breath, shoving your phone back into your jacket pocket.

The faint glow of the shower lights barely reached your side of the locker room, but you did your best to navigate the dark space. You crouched down next to the row of sinks, your fingers fumbling with the cold metal locker.

You tugged it open with a slight creak, your breath catching as you spotted Fujinuma's compression sleeve sitting just where she said it would be.

You grabbed it quickly, stuffing it into your pocket. Relief washed over you as you pulled your phone out again, ready to let Fujinuma know you had it and you were getting the hell out of there.

Just as your fingers hovered over the send button, a voice cut through the eerie silence.

"Hey, stranger, what brings you here?"

Your breath hitched in your throat, and before you could even process the words, the locker room flooded with bright light, illuminating the entire space.

Your pulse quickened, and you whiped around to face whoever had just spoken.

Your head snapped over, eyes wide, and your mouth dropped open at the sight in front of you.

Standing by the entrance to the shower area, his hand casually resting on the light switch, was none other than Yuji—the captain of Kaisen's soccer team.

His pink hair was plastered to his forehead, dripping with water from his recent shower.

The steam rising around him only added to the surreal atmosphere. His lean yet muscular frame glistened in the bright lights, every defined muscle on full display, water sliding down his toned chest and abs.

A towel hung loosely around his waist, dangerously low on his hips, barely covering what it needed to.

You couldn't help but stare, feeling your brain short-circuit for a second as the reality of the situation sunk in.

The heat from your earlier practice was nothing compared to the heat now rising to your face as you tried to comprehend what you were looking at.

Yuji's lips curled into a wicked smirk, amusement dancing in his eyes as he tilted his head to the side, the same playful gesture you'd seen earlier. His voice was smooth, laced with something suggestive, but his tone remained infuriatingly innocent.

"So," he drawled, his eyes flicking over you briefly, "gonna tell me what brings you here? Looking for a midnight snack... or something else?"

The words hit you like a punch.

You choked on your spit, eyes widening as Yuji's words sank in, feeling your face flush even more.

A series of coughs followed, and you quickly clasped a hand over your mouth, your face hot as fire.

You struggled to pull yourself up onto your feet, eyes darting everywhere but him—focused on the ceiling, the lockers, literally anywhere that wasn't the sight of his wet, muscular frame standing there, towel barely hanging on.

"Uh… well…" you started, fumbling over your words as you desperately tried to navigate your way out of the locker room. "One of my squadmates left her compression sleeve, and… well, I came to get it." Your voice wavered as you bumped into a locker, making your way toward the exit, not even noticing when the sound of the shower behind you turned off.

"So, yeah…" you continued, trying to fill the awkward silence. "What can I do, say no? I'm the co-captain, haha…" You gave a nervous laugh, your mind scrambling to come up with something to say, anything to escape this weirdly intimate moment.

Just as the words left your mouth, you suddenly gasped, your breath catching in your throat. Without warning, you bumped into something—someone—solid.

Before you could react, a strong, wet arm wrapped around your midsection, pulling you gently but firmly against a warm, muscular chest.

The heat radiating off the figure seeped through your hoodie, and you could feel droplets of water from their skin soaking into the fabric, sending a shiver down your spine.

You froze, the feeling of firm, veiny muscles around you making your heart race even faster.

The warmth of his body pressed so close to yours made your mind go blank. Tilting your head back just a little, you came face to face with a pair of piercing, dark blue eyes.

Megumi—the co-captain.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip on you remained steady, his arm still snug around your waist, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe, your words completely stolen by the intensity of his gaze.

"S-Sorry!" You squeaked out an apology, feeling the heat rising in your face again as you quickly stepped forward, trying to put some distance between yourself and Megumi.

But just as you freed yourself from his grasp, you bumped into something else—something solid. You froze, your body going stiff as you realized what, or rather who, you had just walked into.

Yuji.

You kept your eyes fixed straight ahead, staring at his honey-tanned chest and desperately trying not to ogle his still-dripping frame.

Every muscle in your body felt locked in place, trapped between the two of them.

When you finally managed to tilt your head up, you were met with Yuji's face—except he wasn't smirking this time. He was pouting.

"Really, Megumi?" Yuji whined dramatically, his voice filled with playful irritation. "You always get the cool, sexy entrances. It's not fair! I was just gonna offer to help, but you had to swoop in like that and steal my moment."

Megumi, still standing behind you, rolled his eyes, clearly unbothered by Yuji's theatrics. "It's not a competition," he muttered dryly, his voice low and calm, completely unfazed by Yuji's over-the-top complaint.

You blinked, completely caught off guard, your mind struggling to process what was happening.

Here you were, sandwiched between the captain and co-captain of Kaisen's soccer team, listening to them banter as if this was all totally normal.

You could only stare up at them in complete wonderment, your brain short-circuiting from the surrealness of the situation.

Gulping, you made the mistake of trying to move. Your body shifted slightly, but it only caused you to stumble forward, right into Yuji’s chest. His firm, warm body pressed against yours, and before you could react, you felt his strong arms wrap around you, keeping you in place.

"Whoa, where d'ya think you're going, babe?" Yuji teased, his voice low and playful. He tilted his head to the side, licking his lips as he looked down at you with that same mischievous glint in his eyes.

The nickname sent a shiver through you, and you felt heat rising to your face again as you tried to wiggle free, but his hold on you only tightened.

Your mind raced as you attempted to come up with a reasonable excuse, anything to escape this increasingly compromising situation. "I-I need to get back," you stammered, not quite believing the words yourself as you glanced over your shoulder at Megumi, who was watching you intently. His gaze was sharp, focused, and completely unreadable.

"Oh? But we're just getting started~" Yuji cooed, his voice dripping with amusement as one of his hands moved gently along your back, sending an involuntary shiver down your spine.

You wanted to move, wanted to push them both away, but every time you tried to pull yourself free, it felt like you were sinking deeper into their grasp, prey to their every suggestion.

Your breath hitched as Megumi finally stepped closer, his tall, imposing figure now looming behind you again. His hand brushed lightly against your arm, a subtle, almost teasing touch that sent your thoughts spiraling.

His dark blue eyes locked onto yours, and you could feel the tension building between the three of you, thick and palpable in the air.

"You're not really in a rush, are you?" Megumi asked softly, his tone smooth and laced with a hint of seduction. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a second, and before you could protest, he leaned in, capturing your mouth in a steamy kiss.

Your mind went blank as his lips moved against yours, slow and deliberate.

You hadn't expected it, but the heat and intensity of his kiss sent your heart racing.

For a moment, you forgot everything else—the locker room, the late hour, the surrealness of it all—lost in the sensation of his lips claiming yours.

Your resistance melted away as you gave in, your body leaning into his touch.

And just as you found yourself surrendering to Megumi, Yuji's soft chuckle broke through the haze. His arms were still around you, holding you close, and as Megumi pulled back slightly, Yuji tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.

"Don't forget about me," Yuji murmured, his voice a playful rumble before he pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was different from Megumi's—softer, but no less electrifying.

You felt a jolt of desire shoot through you as Yuji's lips moved against yours, his playful nature evident in the way he kissed you, teasing and tasting like he had all the time in the world.

Megumi's lips left yours only to trail down the side of your neck, his kisses slow and deliberate, sending shivers across your skin. At the same time, Yuji deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing yours with a mix of intensity and playfulness that left you breathless.

Your mind struggled to keep up as you felt a pair of hands slip under your hoodie, splaying across your abdomen, fingers caressing the soft skin of your stomach before they slid to your hips, holding you firmly in place.

You gasped softly against Yuji's lips, pulling back to catch your breath, but the moment you did, he moved to kiss and suckle along the other side of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

The sensation of both men kissing you, touching you, made your knees weak.

Yuji hiked up one of your legs, pulling it around his waist to bring you closer, his grip firm as he held you in place.

Your mind was growing hazy with desire, your body caught between the two of them, every nerve alight with sensation. Megumi's lips continued to work against your neck, his hands slipping under your hoodie to hold you steady, while Yuji’s lips and tongue sent waves of heat through you.

Suddenly, Megumi's hand reached up to tilt your head back onto his shoulder, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, his voice low and filled with temptation. "Do you wanna play with us?"

Your breath hitched, heart pounding in your chest as his words sunk in. You blinked, your heavy-lidded eyes glancing through your lashes to find Yuji's face in front of you.

The pinkette's usual bright and playful expression was now flushed with desire, his eyes dark and heavy as he looked down at you. His grip on your hips tightened, a soft groan escaping his lips as he rocked his hips forward, grinding gently against you.

"Please," Yuji's voice was almost pleading, his tone husky with need. "Can we play with you?"

A/N: lololo ignore me just tryingn my hand at college aus...

[winxanity-ii]

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

╰❝𝓘'𝓵𝓵 𝓴𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓲𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓰𝓪𝓲𝓷!❞

🇰‌🇪‌🇾‌: 🔞 = smut | 🔥 = heated/spicy | ✿ = fluff | 🕷 = angst | ✰ = personal fav

FICS

ONE-SHOTS

𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐅𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐘 | 🔞 | Stepbro!Megumi x Fem!Reader / Non-Sorcerer!AU

HEADCANONS

[winxanity-ii]

MULTI-SHIPS

╰❝𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓾𝓼𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓰𝓽𝓱 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹 𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓼.❞

🇰‌🇪‌🇾‌: 🔞 = smut | 🔥 = heated/spicy | ✿ = fluff | 🕷 = angst | ✰ = personal fav

FICS

ONE-SHOTS

𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. | ✰ | Various!Yandere!JJK x Miko!Fem!Reader / Jujutsu Kaisen!AU ↴

𝗜𝗡 𝗪𝗛𝗜𝗖𝗛- you're thrust into the Jujutsu world after years of dodging the supernatural.

𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 | Deadpool!Gojo x Mutant!Fem!Reader x Wolverine!Geto / Marvel!AU

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐭?... 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐁𝐞𝐭! | 🔞 | Soccer Player!Yuji x Fem!Cheerleader!Reader x Soccer Player!Megumi / College!AU

HEADCANONS

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, OVERT AFFECTIONS.

ship: jjk men: megumi x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 5.9k a/n: I swear writing has felt like a chore lately. Sorry for the lack of updates—especially this series I haven't updated in like 5 months 💀 —but I've just been feeling so 'meehh'. Hope you like what I scrounged together; go to 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. ʲʲᵏ if you want to understand this; also Y/n's (your) power/ability description will be at the very bottom.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

The day was slowly fading into night as you followed Megumi down the dirt road, the sound of your footsteps serving as a stark reminder of the mission that awaited you.

The air was thick with the smell of rain, a slight mist wrapping around you like a cloak, gentle yet persistent.

You were both heading towards an abandoned altar—a place that was once the subject of whispers, now used as a secret rendezvous for the bold and the desperate to make passionate declarations of love.

Yet, underneath the romantic exterior lay a darker truth—reports of curse sightings and animals found heartless, their corpses a grim marker of the danger that awaited.

You walked carefully, paying attention to the muddy trail beneath your boots as it softly squelched.

Unlike the last mission, where you were buried under layers of your own reservations, tonight was different. In the fast approaching darkness, you found your voice and spoke your mind aloud to Megumi, who was walking ahead a few feet.

Even in the midst of uncertainty, you could always count on his steady presence as a silent watchdog.

Every now and then, a faint hum would escape him, a subtle acknowledgment that he was paying attention, that your words weren't lost to the raindrops and rustling leaves.

Your conversation flowed, a stream of thought that touched on everything and nothing at the same time; you even managed to touch on the topic of how the rain's moisture was becoming a menace to the twists you'd painstakingly spent so much time doing. "Seriously, this rain's plotting against my twists, and here I was, thinking my hair could survive a little water," you mused aloud, a note of resignation in your voice.

You then shot Megumi a sidelong glance, half-hoping, half-expecting him to join in your grudge against the weather.

But Megumi, ever the mystery man, offered nothing more than another one of his faint hums, a sound that was becoming more and more familiar.

It was comforting in a way, this non-verbal dance of communication between you two. It spoke of a budding partnership that was slowly, but surely, finding its rhythm.

Taking the reins, you continued talking. "Guess, I'll be spending a few hours trying to fix them up again. Maybe, Nobara would help—" As you spoke, something flickered in the corner of your eye, halting both your words movement; it was a brief interruption in the otherwise steady rhythm of your journey, something that didn't go unnoticed.

Megumi stopped and turned to face you, peering over his shoulder from beneath the umbrella he was carrying. "What's wrong? Are you alright?" he asked, his voice cutting through the steady patter of raindrops, grounding you back to the moment.

You blinked, the image that had caught your eye disappearing as fast as it had appeared. "I'm… I'm good," you replied, the words more to comfort yourself than to worry him.

Shaking off the unease that clung to you like the moisture in the air, you continued walking, Megumi once again taking the lead, the silent guardian guiding you through the darkness that enveloped the path ahead.

As you resumed walking, Megumi offered a silent gesture of support, the umbrella extended towards you once more—an offer of safety from the rain. "You sure? It's no trouble," he insisted, the edge of the umbrella nudging closer in silent invitation.

"Nah, it's just a little drizzle," you replied flipping your hood onto your head, a stubborn streak of independence guiding your words. "No worries."

But, as if on cue, the skies above seemed to mock your rebellion, a bright flash of lightning tearing across the clouds, followed by a thunderous roar.

The skies opened, unleashing a downpour that quickly turned the drizzle into an intense storm in the blink of an eye.

Megumi's reaction was immediate, his grip firm on your wrist as he pulled you forward, navigating the path with a new sense of urgency.

He carefully angled the umbrella to provide you with the most protection from the sudden onslaught, with his own figure being of secondary importance. The world around you blurred, raindrops distorting your surroundings and making it difficult to see the path ahead.

Megumi led you both towards the shelter of the abandoned altar, his steadying presence acting as an anchor for you both.

The storm continued to rage as you and Megumi approached the abandoned altar, its once-holy stones now worn smooth by age and neglect. The steps, rotten and slick with rain, made each step slippery, but together, you managed to climb them.

It felt like a minor victory to reach the shelter of the altar's roof from the raging storm. The space beneath was a sorry attempt at providing shelter; its roof, riddled with holes, could barely keep the rain from pouring through.

The sound of water trickling through the cracks in the wood matched the staccato rhythm of the wind howling. In a space meant for four, you found yourselves both crammed together under a makeshift shelter that barely accommodated one.

You both huddled close, an involuntary intimacy forced upon you by the need to stay dry. With a click, the now-useless umbrella was closed, its purpose fulfilled.

"So, what now?" you asked, looking up at Megumi with a faint, wry smile mixed with resignation.

The situation was far from ideal, but there was a certain camaraderie in sharing this pitifully small shelter.

Megumi looked around the small room, his normally unwavering stoicism now tinged with a hint of irritation at their circumstances. "We wait it out," he said, his voice carrying a calm certainty that contrasted sharply with the chaos outside caused by the storm.

His shoulder brushed against yours, a silent reminder of the small space that separated you, yet there was an unexpected comfort in the closeness, a shared warmth in the cold that enveloped the altar.

The smell of earth and old rain filled the altar, a strong reminder of the building's struggle against nature and time.

There was a mutual understanding and an unspoken sense of camaraderie between you as you both stood there, pressed into a closeness that would have been awkward in other circumstances. You chuckled softly, not blind to the ridiculousness of the situation. "Of all the places to get stuck during a storm, it had to be a haunted altar, huh?" The attempt at humor was a small rebellion against the unease and the nagging fear of what might be lurking in the shadows.

Megumi's response was an uncommonly soft smirk, a brief lifting of of the curtain that usually concealed his emotions. "Seems fitting though, doesn't it? Just another day at Jujutsu Tech." Though he was joking, his eyes were alert, searching the shadows that danced just out of the beam of light.

Beneath the altar's roof, the little area grew into its own world, a shared experience bubble in the middle of the storm.

With every mission and vulnerable moment you shared, the rain's rhythm on the roof provided a steady backdrop for your quiet conversation. Each word was a thread weaving the fabric of a bond that was gradually strengthening.

"In a weird way, it's kind of peaceful," you mused outloud, allowing yourself to lean slightly into Megumi's side to escape the chill. "You know, if you ignore the potential for curses lurking around."

Megumi nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in agreement. "It's the quiet before the storm. We should enjoy it while it lasts."

Under the dim cover of the altar's roof. The sight of an odd, hollow opening behind the altar distracted your gaze from the discomfort of the cold, dripping rain.

Megumi was the one who first noticed the irregularity—a tiny change in the wall that gave the impression that something was hidden, prompting more investigation.

With a nod, curiosity triumphed over caution and you both moved in closer, the beam Megumi's phone illuminating a narrow entrance to a hidden chamber.

This cramped space, barely bigger than a crawlspace, felt like a time capsule, its air thick with the must of old paper and forgotten secrets.

As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, the outlines of hundreds of letters became apparent; each one had been painstakingly stacked and preserved from the effects of ageing. The amount of letters received was astounding; there was a real weight to all the words that were unread.

You knelt down and grasped one of the letters, the paper crumbling beneath your fingers.

The handwriting was elegant, a flowing script that spoke of a bygone era. The letter opened, "To Yani," and as you skimmed through the contents, the story unfolded: it was a tale of love, longing, and a division that was too large to overcome.

Glancing over your shoulder, Megumi picked up another letter, written in a slightly rougher hand. "To Boton," he read aloud, his voice a low murmur in the quiet of the hidden room.

A story of star-crossed lovers torn between duty and desire was woven through the letters that exchanged between Boton, a village boy with dreams larger than his station, and Yani, the next priestess to this very altar.

Yani, as you learned, was to live in solitude on the porch of the altar, as had been customary for priestesses before her.

Boton's letters, filled with passion and pleas, vividly depicted his love for her, a love that dared to challenge the conventions that kept them apart. Yani's responses, though cautious, were not devoid of affection; they spoke of a woman torn between her heart and her obligations.

As you and Megumi sifted through the letters, the depth of their tragedy became apparent. Here, in this hidden alcove behind the altar, lay the ashes of a love that had once burned bright enough to defy fate, now reduced to whispers on aging paper.

"This is…incredible," you muttered as the realization of the finding sunk in. "They loved each other, against all odds."

Megumi nodded, his expression thoughtful. "And yet, it seems they were never truly able to be together. Tradition and duty…it cost them everything."

A slip-up takes your focus away from Megumi's thoughtfulness as he becomes more and more engrossed in Botan and Yani's tragic love.

Beneath your feet, the uneven floorboards cover a secret: a small box that has been forgotten and wedged, almost causing you to fall.

With a mix of curiosity and caution, you pry the wood loose and lift out the box, its contents covered in even more dust than the letters you had already found.

Sifting through the box, the letters you find within hold a shocking discovery. These are Yani's words, but they tell a different story, one of a love for Akio, a bard who captured her heart with songs of his travels. More disturbingly, they reveal her growing fear of Botan, whose affection had twisted into something dark and possessive.

Each letter unveils layers of emotion—love, fear, desperation—painting a picture that is very different from the romantic tale you initially imagined.

Intent on sharing this discovery with Megumi, you turn, only to find him in an unusual position with his back to you and his head bowed, seemingly burdened by the weight of the revelations. "Megumi," you begin, your voice trailing off into the silence of the hidden chamber.

Walking over, you reach out to put your hand on his shoulder, but before you can touch him, Megumi responds so quickly it contradicts his usual calm demeanor.

His hand snaps out, gripping your wrist with a surprising amount of strength, his touch chillingly gentle as he turns to face you. Confusion flutters within your chest when you find his eyes closed, his lashes casting shadows down his cheeks.

"Megumi?" His response is a silence that fills the space between you, heavy and oppressive.

His touch shifts, the hand on your wrist moving to cup your face with an unnerving tenderness while his other arm encircles your waist. "Megumi, what are you—?" With an abruptness that takes your breath away, he pulls you into his arms, leaving your words hanging, unfinished.

All you can manage is a startled yelp as your brain races to figure out what's going on.

The suddenness of the embrace disorients you, his arms a vice that squeezes you close to him, eliminating any room for doubts or questions.

For a moment, everything is reduced to the sensation of being held too tightly, with his body pressing firmly against yours. Confusion changes to panic as you realize that trying to break free of his tight hold is pointless.

"Um…Megumi?" Your voice barely rises above a whisper, tinged with a growing unease that seems to fill the cramped space around you.

Silence is his only reply, but it's broken by a low hum that emanates from his chest.

The air shifts as he moves closer, the distance between you evaporating like mist under the sun.

Megumi leans in, his breath cold against your skin, not at all like the warmth you remember. His movements are strangely tender, nuzzling against you in a gesture so intimate it verges on intrusive, and you feel an involuntary shiver when his nose brushes the point where your neck and shoulder meet.

It's too much.

If you don't move right now, you're positive you'll die from your ovaries combusting.

"Megumi—" you start, wiggling in his grasp to create space between the two of you.

But before you can continue, he interrupts you off with a growl that vibrates through his chest, "Stop saying his name." The words are a cold splash, jarring in their intensity and the unfamiliarity of the tone.

You freeze, not just from the shock of hearing Megumi speak with such coldness but also from the realization of what he's implying.

"What—" you begin again, but once more, he cuts you off, the growl deeper and louder as he tightens his hold around you, "Stop saying his name."

"Megumi, please—" Your words are cut short as he suddenly leans back, breaking the too-close embrace to lock his gaze with yours.

"I SAID STOP SAYING HIS NAME!" he shouts with such force and sharpness that you are momentarily stunned into silence.

The sight that greets you then halts everything—his eyes, once a comforting shade of emerald green, now blaze with an otherworldly red glow, rendering him almost unrecognizable.

The change is startling, a visual confirmation of the wrongness you've felt and a clear statement that the person before you is no longer just Megumi.

Your mind races, thoughts bouncing off of each other as you try to piece together the situation, to find out what caused the abrupt possession.

How? When? But your voice is lost to the shock that grips you, rendering you silent under his haunting, glowing gaze. Taking your silence as submission, the figure brings you back into his arms, face once again finding place in the junction of your neck.

It takes every ounce of your willpower not to react more visibly, to maintain some semblance of control in a situation that's spiraling into something straight out of your dreams.

The coldness of his lips, barely touching your skin, is a sharp reminder of the abnormality of this encounter. The Megumi you know, is not someone who would carelessly and intrusively invade your personal space, he's a man of quiet strength and guarded warmth.

Embarrassment floods your face, a burning contradiction to the cold touch of lips against your skin.

Your heart races, beating frantically against your ribcage, urging you to run away from this twisted mimicry of affection.

Yet, you're frozen, caught in the grip of someone who wears Megumi's face but is a stranger to his ways.

This close, the scent of rain on him is overshadowed by something else—a chill that seems to emanate from him, enveloping you in an invisible shroud of ice.

"Who are you?" The question slips from your lips in a breath, barely more than a whisper, your voice trembling as much as your body under his firm grasp.

A low hum vibrates through the figure holding you, a sound that, under different circumstances, might have been comforting but is instead unsettling.

He sways you from side to side in a gentle, almost loving manner that seems completely inappropriate given the chilly circumstances. "I am what remains of a lost soul," the imposter begins, his voice a haunting mimicry of Megumi's but laced with layers of sadness and insanity that the Megumi you know has never shown. "A soul that loved too deeply, too pure. I am Botan, and through me, the tragic tale of Yani and myself lives on."

The realization that this is not your Megumi, not truly, sends a pang of fear through you. With a surge of determination, you muster the strength to push against the imposter's iron grip.

The sudden movement takes him—no, it—by surprise, loosening the hold just enough for you to slip free.

You stagger back, putting distance between yourself and the entity posing as Megumi.

The small, confined space of the altar's hidden chamber suddenly feels even more claustrophobic, a sense of electric tension crackling through the damp air.

Rain continues to seep through the cracks above, a constant reminder of the storm that rages outside, indifferent to the storm that is currently brewing inside. Botan? The name echoes silently in your mind, a single question that clouds your understanding of everything you thought you knew about the mission.

Your mind race, connecting the dots back to the stack of letters, to the love story so tragically spelled out on aged paper.

The realization hits you like a train, bringing you back to earth. Cautiously, you fix your gaze on the figure before you—Megumi, no, Botan—and the words find their way out, laced with a newfound clarity. "You're the curse we're here to exorcise," you state, your voice stronger now, even as it trembles with the weight of your accusation.

At your words, Botan's fake smile began to crumble, revealing a crack in the façade that he so carefully maintained.

Behind him, a flash of thunder illuminates the cramped space, casting his features in a sinister light that sends a shiver down your spine. "Curse?" he repeats, the word a snarl that distorts Megumi's voice into something unrecognizable, something wholly other. His bewilderment quickly morphs into a twisted form of outrage, a sign that your words have struck deeper than intended. "I am not a curse," he asserts, the denial sharp and edged with a growing instability. "My love isn't evil. It's pure, more real than anything your world can offer."

You watch, a silent observer to his unraveling, as Botan clings to his narrative, to the justification of his actions which have crossed the boundary between life and death. "You don't understand," his voice laced with an almost insane desperation. "Yani was everything to me. Our love was meant to last an eternity. How can something so beautiful be considered a curse?"

His words hang heavy between you like a weight, demonstrating the extent of his delusions.

It's clear now that Botan doesn't see himself as a malevolent spirit but rather as a lover who has been wronged by fate and that his actions are justified.

For him, the line between love and obsession has become blurred; his conviction has made him oblivious to the pain and chaos his presence has brought.

"Yani...she was life itself, and to be near her breathed purpose into me," Botan's voice softens, a sharp contrast to the fervor that had underscored his previous words.

His gaze, lost in the distance of memories only he can see, speaks volumes of the love he once harbored—a love that, despite its intensity, was doomed from the start. The air around you seems to get heavier as he speaks, heavy with the weight of centuries' worth of grief and resentment. The story about a priestess and a village boy caught in a tragic dance comes to life—a tale of love turned obsession.

"You see, Yani was everything to me. But she chose another, a bard named Akio, whose songs of travel won her heart where my devotion could not," the entity's voice cracks, an opening in the facade that exposes Botan's desperation to the fullest. "In my rage, I did the unthinkable. I silenced her song forever, framing Akio for a crime born of my jealousy."

The confession hangs heavy in the air, the words a chilling testament to the lengths to which Botan's madness drove him—a madness that claimed Yani's life, wrongfully condemned an innocent man, and confined Botan himself to a shadowy existence due to his inability to face the harsh reality of his guilt and solitude, tying his soul to the physical world of the living by chains of his own making.

"I mourned her at this very altar, you know. Writing letters to a ghost, my love undiminished even in death," Botan continues, his gaze—though using Megumi's eyes—is hollow as he looks through you, lost in a past marred by tragedy and obsession. "After coming to terms with the horror of what I had done to Yani, I couldn't bear the weight of the outside world any longer. So, I sealed myself within this altar, crafting a sanctuary of sorrow from my confinement." As Botan delves deeper into his tale, the sorrow and madness that have consumed him for centuries seep into the cramped space of the hidden chamber, making the air around you grow colder.

"Here, in the silence of my self-made prison, I wrote the true tale of our tragic love," he continues, the words a testament to his long-lasting obsession. "Day after day, I penned letters not just to a ghost, but to the very essence of my undying affection for Yani, crafting a narrative where our love could live as I wished it had."

However, the truth that remains unsaid in between his sentences serves as a sharp reminder of how profound Botan's delusion is.

The letters are just more examples of his denial of reality, even though they are supposedly a true story of their tragic love affair. To deal with the unbearable weight of his actions, Botan fed his delusions by creating a false dialogue of reciprocated love between himself and Yani through letters he wrote while living in isolation.

"For centuries, I've been adrift, a specter lost in the shadows of my own despair," he reveals, the words heavy with a timeless grief. "But then, I saw a light—a warmth I hadn't felt since Yani's presence graced this world. It drew me forth, like a moth to a flame."

"That light," Botan explains, "was you. A small, flickering flame, but to me, it was a beacon."

The revelation sends a chill down your spine, the implication dawning on you with a terrifying clarity. Botan's hand clutches the side of his head with a grimace as if Megumi's consciousness battles against the intrusion. "Y-You... you were the light," Botan stutters, his speech erratic, switching back and forth, punctuated by winces of pain. "Not her, not Yani... but you. When I saw you, it... it was as if Yani was reborn, calling to me from beyond."

You stand there—rooted to the spot in confusion and alertness—watching as the entity before you struggles with its own existence.

Botan's conviction that you are the reincarnation of his lost love blurs the line between past obsession and present delusion. "Yani... no, it's you. You are the one I've been waiting for," he insists, the words pouring out in a rush of madness and longing.

The sight of Megumi, or rather Botan, in such turmoil stirs up a mixture of emotions—fear for the friend ensnared by this tormented spirit, but also pity for Botan, a soul lost to time and obsession.

Yet, your compassion for the ghost does not cloud your determination to save Megumi.

As Botan's grip on Megumi's head tightens, you realize the time to act is now. Drawing deep from within, you channel your cursed energy, shaping it into a lasso of pulsating light.

"Elemental Catalyst: Creation's Forge."**

The energy thrums in your palm, a ray of light in the shadows.

You whip the lasso forward with a precision born of necessity, entangling Botan in its glowing coil.

The spirit's rantings escalate into a depressing crescendo as the lasso tightens, binding him with the force of your will. "Botan, release Megumi," you command, your voice steady despite the flurry of emotions raging inside of you. "Leave this world, and find peace. You don't belong here."

For a brief moment, you thought you were going to be able to release Megumi from the spirit's control, only for Botan to break free from the lasso's grip. The room plunged into even deeper shadows, the darkness manifesting as if it were wisps rising straight from Botan, who now hovered ominously a few inches off the ground. With a scowl that left you chilled you to the core, his eyes, filled with an unearthly glow, remained fixed on you. "You're never leave me again!" Botan roared, his voice a warped reflection of both Megumi's repressed will and his own suffering.

Extending his hand, he unleashed a torrent of shadows in your direction with ferocious intent.

Caught off guard, you were engulfed in an instant, the shadows constricting around you like a vice.

Each attempt to break free was met with relentless resistance; the dark energy pulsing against your skin, leaving bruises in its wake.

Botan had complete control over the shadows despite you fighting with everything you had, dodging and weaving, trying to find an opening, a weakness to exploit.

A particularly vicious sweep of dark tendrils knocked you off your feet, sending you tumbling across the floor of the cramped space.

You gasped for air, the wind knocked out of you, as you pushed yourself up on shaking arms. Determination burned within you, a refusal to let this be the end—especially with so much on the line.

With gritted teeth, you picked yourself up and jumped back into the fight, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and desperation.

Each blow you landed against the shadowy tendrils seemed to dissipate them, only for them to reappear and strike back with increased ferocity.

The battle was a dance as old as time, will against will, light against dark.

But the shadows were relentless, and before long, a particularly powerful hit sent you flying backward once again.

You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring your bones and scattering your thoughts. Lying there, exhausted and bruised, you stared up at the swirling mass of darkness with Botan at its heart.

Breathing in short, painful gasps, you realized the gravity of the situation—this was no longer just a battle of physical strength, but a test of mental and emotional resilience.

As you lay there, the cold floor beneath you a stark reminder of the ferocity of the battle, your scattered thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Botan looming over you.

His form, now a silhouette against the pulsating shadows, crouched to hover just inches above your face.

The change in his expression was jarring—what was once rage and despair, now held an unsettling mix of awe and adoration. His eyes gazed down at you with an intensity that felt both invasive and deeply sorrowful; so much like Megumi's yet so obviously altered by Botan's presence.

He reached out and caressed your cheek with an eerily gentle touch, as if he was afraid you would break under his grasp.

The sensation sent a shiver down your spine—a visceral reaction to the paradoxical tenderness shown from the entity that had just relentlessly attacked.

Each time Botan's gaze bore into yours, you found yourself turning away, unable to withstand the weight of his stare.

It was Megumi's face looking down at you, but unlike the Megumi you knew, the eyes were full of a hauntingly misplaced affection.

The dissonance between his gentle touch and the chaos he had brought was disarming, leaving you caught between the urge to flee and the realization that this thing in front of you was just as much a victim of his own obsessions as Megumi was of his possession.

"My love," Botan murmured, his voice a whisper that seemed to echo around the cramped space, filling it with a chilling sense of longing.

The word—meant to soften your heart—felt like a chain around your heart, heavy with implications you dared not fully comprehend.

Your heart raced, a cyclone of terror, confusion, and an aching sadness for the perverted kind of love that Botan carried—a love that had transcended death to manifest in this obsession.

It was overwhelming to realize that you were at the center of that obsession right now. To keep some semblance of composure in the face of such unnerving intimacy, you had to remind yourself to breathe.

Finally, you managed to whisper "Stop," a word that was barely audible yet carried the weight of your resolve. "This isn't him. You're not him." The plea was as much for Botan to hear as much as it was a reminder to yourself, a desperate attempt to draw a line between the spirit's delusion and your reality.

Botan simply shook his head, unfazed by your quiet defiance. Gently, he pulled your upper body up against him, drawing you into an embrace that was meant to be consoling but had the effect of suffocating.

His hand continued to gently stroke your face, and as it did so, it tugged at the very fabric of your being. "My love. You're all I want. All I need," he murmured, each word a testament to his delusions and the intensity of his obsession that had surpassed logic and time. "I love you, from now until the end of time, as I've always done."

It was a bizarre scenario, a warped imitation of closeness forged in the darkness of possession and misdirected love.

You could feel the warmth of Megumi's body, the physicality of his presence, yet the spirit that drove him was foreign, a ghost of a time lost to its own cravings and unable to look beyond them.

Your mind raced, desperation clawing at the edges of your thoughts as you searched for a way out, a solution to the nightmare that had ensnared both you and Megumi.

And then, in the midst of the chaos, an idea sparked—a dangerous gamble, but one that might just turn the tide.

Slowly, pushing down every instinct that screamed against it, you melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer.

The act, a calculated display of the affection he so desperately wanted, was nothing more than a charade, a carefully constructed performance dictated by the dire circumstances. "I love you, too," you whispered, adding a sweetness to your voice that covered up the sting of the lie. "You're my everything, my every want, my every need," you continued, your words creating a tapestry of fake devotion and broken promises.

As you spoke, you lifted your gaze to meet his, holding his eyes with a steady intensity.

You looked deep into Megumi's eyes, where Botan's spirit had briefly taken control, looking for any trace of suspicion, any indication that he might be able to see past the surface.

However, all that was reflected back to you was a haunting desire for closeness, which Botan mistakenly believed to be confirmation of his hallucinations.

"Without you, there's just emptiness," you added with lidded eyes, layering your deceit with the weight of feelings you were never allowed to experience. "Stay with me, and never let me go," you murmured, hoping to trap Botan and induce complacency in him.

Your fingers gently traced the curve of his jaw, an act of intimacy that served to further prove your devotion.

Botan—completely engrossed in your act—allowed his guard to drop further, the edges of his possession softening in the face of what he thought were reciprocated feelings. His cage-like embrace now felt more like the hesitant touch of a lover, his resistance melting away under the warmth of your supposed affection.

The moment was charged with the tension of unsaid truths and the desperation of a spirit clinging to the remains of the life he once knew.

And as he leaned in, eyes closed in anticipation of the kiss that would seal his delusion, you pushed forward with all your energy, preparing to shatter the illusion and sever the ties that bound him to this world and Megumi.

When the exorcism comes, it's a release—for Botan, a release from centuries of unrequited love turned obsession and for Megumi, a return to himself.

The exorcism surged through the both of you, a barrage of energy that tore Botan's presence from Megumi, sending the spirit back to where it belongs once and for all—the other side. The storm outside begins to recede as the last of Botan's essence disappears, dissolving into the air, signaling the end of the night's hardship.

Megumi's form slackens, and his eyes—once a blazing red—returns to their familiar shade of green.

There's a moment of disorientation when he regains consciousness, and then when his gaze settles on you, recognition and confusion blooms on his face.

Panting from exhaustion, you help Megumi sit up beside you. You lean your head against his shoulder with a tired smile. "Guess we really 'ghosted' him, huh?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood with a little cringe-worthy humor.

Megumi couldn't help but respond with a small nudge and a joking roll of his eyes, a silent acknowledgement of your attempt to find humor in the aftermath.

Then, in a rare moment of intimacy, he puts his own head over yours, his free hand pulling out his phone to text Gojo that they've completed the mission, the ordeal finally over.

You had no idea that, as you drifted off into a tired state of semi-consciousness, Megumi found his gaze returning to you, again and again.

There was an unusual intensity in his eyes, a depth of emotion that seems out of place, even to him.

I've got you, always...no harm will come your way, not now, not ever. And if they try, I'll kill 'em, he thinks to himself, the thought enveloping his mind in a protective, almost obsessive fervor infected with a hint possessiveness.

For a split second, Megumi is startled by the intensity of his own thoughts. He doesn't know what spurred on such a fierce protective instinct, but just looking at you—the soft rhythm of your breathing, the gentle warmth from your body, and the steady beat of your heart near his—is all it takes to dissolves any lingering questions and concerns.

Hm, maybe I’m overthinking things, he muses, watching you murmur softly in your sleep, your face relaxed and peaceful. For now, he's content to simply be here, in this moment, with you safely tucked under his chin.

As you snuggle closer, seeking warmth and comfort in your semi-conscious state, something within him shifts—his heart gives a small, satisfied squeeze, releasing a wave of contentment through him.

Yeah, maybe I should get some sleep, Megumi decides, as he feels the weight of sleepiness begin to pull him down too, that whatever this is, it can wait.

A/N: don't clow me too hard y'all, school really got me going through it fr 🥴🥴...

🇾‌/🇳‌'🇸‌ 🇵‌🇴‌🇼‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌/🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇮‌🇪‌🇸‌ 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌🇮‌🇷‌ 🇩‌🇷‌🇦‌🇼‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌🇸‌:

...Elemental Catalyst: Creation's Forge...**

Allows her to draw energy from her eyes to form shields, weapons, or heal herself or others... Drawbacks: Using this ability for an extended period drains her energy; For the healing aspect, a temporarily soul-bond needs to take place, making it a double-edged sword because she might absorb some of their pain or fatigue, making the act of healing more complex...

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, THIS IS REAL.

ship: jjk men: megumi x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.7k a/n: Yes, I lied 😊 enjoy another update...go to 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. ʲʲᵏ if you want to understand this; also Y/n's (your) power/ability description will be at the very bottom.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Standing outside Principal Yaga's door, you're a bundle of nerves. Your heart pounds as if it's trying to break free from your chest. Thoughts swarm through your mind, each more paranoia-inducing than the last. Do these people actually want me dead? Is this all some twisted initiation test?

You look down at the message sent from Gojo at the ass-crack of dawn, complete with emojis that are so ridiculously out of place for the situation.

Gojo: Head to Yaga's office for a brief. Have fun on your mission 😎🤟

Eyes darting from your screen to the imposing door before you, your hand wavers in the air, frozen between you and the knock you're too hesitant to make.

That's when you see him—a familiar head of spiky black hair sauntering down the hallway.

Caught off guard, you blurt out, "F-Fushiguro-kun!" Your voice cracks awkwardly, and you instantly regret calling out.

He halts his stride, tilting his head to lock eyes with you from the corner of his gaze. "Hmm?"

Standing close enough now for you to see the nuances in his expression, Megumi looks down at you in a bored gaze.

Mustering up enough courage, you stutter, "A-Are you here for the mission as well?"

"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," he says, raising an eyebrow at your obvious nervousness.

You let out a shaky, forced laugh. "Right," you manage to say, but inside you're seething. This prick. Here I am, trying to make small talk to lighten the mood, and he's all ice. Never again.

"So, how long do you plan on standing there?" His voice is tinged with impatience.

"R-Right," you mumble, snapping out of your internal tirade. Who the hell does he think he is? Could've knocked himself if he's so damn impatient.

Before either of you can make a move, the door creeks open. It's one of Principal Yaga's creepy cursed stuffed animals ushering you in.

"Come in," comes the Principal's distant call.

Your eyes practically turn into black holes, a single bead of sweat tracing a line down the side of your face. Your whole body trembles ever so slightly, like a leaf caught in a sudden gust of wind.

Taking a deep breath that does little to calm your racing heart, you step inside. As you do, a strange sense of foreboding fills you. You're plunging into unknown territory, and your life is about to get wildly more complicated.

At least you're not alone in this descent into madness—or whatever this mission will bring. A brief exchange of glances with Megumi, his eyes unreadable yet maybe, just maybe, offering a crumb of reassurance, confirms it.

Whatever awaits, you're jumping in headfirst, but you're not doing it solo.

So bring on the mission. You're as ready as you'll ever be.

You're a comedian.

'You're as ready as you'll ever be', yeah fucking right.

The thought plays on a loop as you find yourself standing in the middle of a dimly lit alleyway. It's a mess of shadows and uncertain contours, barely illuminated by the sporadic light from distant street lamps. A light drizzle paints the ground wet, the droplets collecting on your clothes, causing you to shiver involuntarily.

Is it just the cold causing your shaking? No, it's fear too—fear and the weight of what you've been tasked to do. Your mind plays back the briefing with Principal Yaga.

🇫‌🇱‌🇦‌🇸‌🇭‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌:

Your fingers dig into the fabric of your skirt as you sit awkwardly in Principal Yaga's office. Megumi is next to you, an unreadable expression on his face. The room itself is an unnerving mix of academic and arcane, a jigsaw puzzle of cursed trinkets and scholarly accolades. You let your eyes wander, your nervous energy seeking an outlet, any outlet.

Your gaze flits over an odd-looking jar filled with what seems to be teeth—human? Animal? You're not sure you want to know—and just when you think you can't feel any more unnerved, your eyes lock with Megumi's. You instantly look away, feeling as if you've committed some sort of unspeakable crime.

Clearing his throat, Principal Yaga starts to brief you. "There have been recent disturbances in a particular neighborhood. Local residents have reported an abnormal increase in stray cats in the area."

Stray cats? Okay, not terrifying yet.

"However," Yaga continues, "discovered remains of these animals and other smaller curses indicate that something much larger is at work here."

The screen behind Yaga shifts to display some photos—dead cats, each twisted unnaturally, their eyes void of any life. Your stomach turns; the fear you've been trying to hold at bay washes over you like a tidal wave.

"To be blunt, you're here to gain field experience," Yaga continues, completely unfazed by the horrifying imagery behind him. "Fushiguro is here to make sure you don't bite off more than you can chew."

There it is—the reassurance. Not warm, not comforting, but it's there. The weight of your mission settles on you like a hundred-pound armor, but at least you're not going into this battle unarmed.

Your thoughts are interrupted as something furry brushes against your legs. You glance down to see one of Megumi's shadow dogs nuzzling your calf. At that moment, Megumi's voice slices through the air, yanking you back to the here and now.

"Stay focused. This is no time for daydreams."

His words are stern, leaving no room for interpretation. Inside, you're tempted to snap back. No time for daydreams? Okay, Captain Obvious. I'm new at this, not stupid. But you swallow the retort, mentally shaking yourself back into reality.

"Right," you say, squaring your shoulders and jamming your hands into your pockets in a futile attempt to combat the cold. "So, what's the plan?"

As Megumi starts outlining the strategy, his words intermingle with the occasional soft barks and growls from his summoned canines. You nod along, absorbing the details while a part of you vibrates with nerves. You're in a maze of unknowns—unknown dangers, unknown experiences, and worst of all, unknown powers within yourself.

But for all the dread pooling in your gut, there's a flicker of something else: anticipation, excitement, maybe even a smidgen of hope. Because if the thought of what lies ahead is overwhelming, the thought of conquering it is electrifying.

As the two of you navigate through a labyrinth of alleys, shadows stretch along the cracked asphalt. A sudden burst of cold air sweeps over you, making you stop in your tracks.

"I...I don't know how to explain it, Megumi, but it's like... footprints. I can see glowing footprints leading that way," you gesture toward the far corner of the alley.

Megumi's eyes sharpen. "Try following them."

The glowing footprints guide both of you to the entrance of a dilapidated building. Its broken windows and rotted wood give off an air of abandonment, the perfect hideout for things that live in the darkness.

As you take a step inside, your senses immediately go into overdrive. The air grows denser, and fouler, and your skin crawls with a sense of impending doom.

And then it appears—a grotesque figure lunges at you from the depths of the shadows. The curse is a horrifying mixture of a cat and something skeletal, towering above you with elongated limbs covered in feathers.

Its eyes, two glowing orbs of malice, lock onto yours for what feels like an eternity in a split second.

But before you can fully understand the horror before you, a serpent of shadows, summoned by Megumi, lashes out, violently tearing the creature away from your line of sight.

Instead of being killed, the curse lets out a blood-curdling screech and scampers away, disappearing into a worn-down building just beyond your line of sight.

"Never make eye contact with a curse. Got it?" Megumi's voice is flat, devoid of any nuance. It's not a question but a directive.

Your heart pounds like a drum in a marching band, its rhythm erratic but loud. You nod, managing to stammer out a "Got it," your voice shaking in fear.

"We'll have to follow it; it's clearly a lot more agile than we anticipated." Megumi turns away, dissipating his summoned canines before making a sweeping gesture with his arm. "Lead the way."

You glance in the direction the curse fled, your stomach knotting at the thought of facing that monstrosity again.

So badly does the phrase "Get someone else to do it," wants to leave your lips, but you know you can't afford to back down. Not when you're just beginning to touch the tip of the iceberg that is your latent power.

And so, with a deep breath to steady yourself, you follow Megumi into the building.

Eager to break the tension, you clear your throat. "So, how did you get involved with all this?"

"I was born into it," he replies, not taking his eyes off the dark alley ahead.

"Yeah, gotcha." An awkward laugh leaves your lips. "So, um, do you like working solo better?"

He spares you a half-glance, eyes returning to the path ahead as he mutters, "It depends."

"Any particular curse that you remember giving you a hard time?"

"A few," he states, his words as sparing as ever, making you feel like you're pulling teeth.

Another round of awkward chuckles spills out of you. "Yeah, right, make sense." And just like that, the silence reclaims its territory. The atmosphere tenses up again, thick enough to cut through.

As the footprints guide you deeper into the worn-out structure, a nauseating odor grows stronger, mixing with the damp, musty air. You turn a corner and there it is—your stomach churns at the sight.

The curse is crouched over a grotesque mound of cat corpses, its elongated, skeletal fingers tearing flesh from bone. Wet crunching and slurping sounds fill the air as it feasts.

Its eyes are the worst part: orbs of fire set deep into a skull covered with tattered feathers. Its mouth is smeared with fresh blood, stretching into a wide hole as it plunges its head into its meal, clearly relishing the gore.

Your gaze flickers to Megumi, searching for some sort of reaction. His face remains blank, unfazed by the horror. In that instant, he raises his hand, summoning a serpent made of shadows.

The serpent lunges, poised to strike—but the sudden surge of spiritual energy alerts the creature.

With a shriek that threatens to split your eardrums, the curse leaves its bloody banquet and vanishes. You feel the hair on your neck stand up. Where did it go? Your senses flare up, heightened by the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

"Megumi, above you!" Your voice is strangled, barely more than a panicked gasp as you point toward the ceiling. Your technique had pinpointed the monstrosity hanging upside-down like some kind of demonic bat, poised to pounce.

Megumi's reaction is almost inhumanly fast, guided by honed instincts and precise control over his cursed techniques. Even before your warning fully leaves your lips, he's already moved.

His shadow serpent, still active, veers skyward, morphing mid-air into a form more suitable for aerial combat—a hawk made of pure shadow and imbued with cursed energy.

The shadow hawk screeches, swooping up towards the demonic creature with talons outstretched, aiming to eviscerate. But the curse is fast, too.

With another bone-chilling shriek, it releases a spew of cursed energy aimed directly at Megumi's shadowy familiar. The energies collide in a flash of dark sparks, momentarily illuminating the gruesome scene around you.

"Damn it," Megumi mutters under his breath. He claps his hands together in a quick incantation. "Divine Dog, White."

Materializing from the shadows, another creature bursts forth—a spectral hound with fur as white as snow. It leaps into the air, lunging toward the hanging creature, fangs bared and ready to tear into cursed flesh.

The curse, momentarily distracted by the failed hawk attack, doesn't see the Divine Dog until it's too late. The spectral hound's teeth sink into its wretched form, tearing through it like butter through cursed energy and malevolent intent.

With a final, agonized screech, the curse disintegrates into a shower of dark particles that dissipate into the air.

Megumi lowers his hand, and the Divine Dog vanishes back into the shadows. He turns toward you, his eyes meeting yours for just a moment before he looks away.

"Let's go. We need to get back," he says, the words tinged with the barest hint of relief, as though he's glad you're okay but won't actually say it.

Your own heart is still pounding, adrenaline making your hands shake, but for a different reason now. That was way too close. But you're not just a spectator in all of this. You've contributed, held your own, even if it's just for a moment.

The train cart is empty except for the two of you. Megumi's eyes are focused on his phone, fingers gliding smoothly across the screen. You sit there, replaying the mission in your head. There was a lot to process, not least of which was your newfound ability. Those glowing footprints you could see—what was that?

As you ponder, a whisper of a word floats into your consciousness, like a fleeting thought tucked away in the back of your mind.

...Timebound Steps: Historical Trace...**

A smile slowly creeps onto your face. You had done it; you'd discovered something within yourself.

This was a good day, an exceptional day in your life as a fledgling Jujutsu sorcerer. You're no longer a mere spectator on the sidelines, watching in fear and horror as others act and forge their destinies in the moment.

Today, you stepped onto the field.

Today, you became a player in this world of curses and magic, where life and death dance in a twisted ballet.

And now, you can't help but think, if you can do this—unlock a new power out of the blue—what else are you capable of?

What other layers are there to peel back?

What other powers are locked away, waiting for the right moment, the right feeling, to burst forth?

You imagine the possibilities, a future filled with more discoveries, more adventure, more challenges to overcome, and suddenly, the world feels a bit smaller, a bit more manageable.

You're not just drifting through it; you're becoming a part of its very fabric. And for the first time in a long while, that thought doesn't terrify you—it exhilarates you.

But then, out of nowhere, a wave of drowsiness hits you, as if your body and soul have collectively decided that they've had enough excitement for one day. A small yawn escapes your lips, almost involuntarily.

Your eyes grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay alert, you can't fight off the pull of sleep any longer.

As the train jostles along the tracks, your head tips to the side, finally coming to rest against Megumi's shoulder.

For a second, he tenses, a sharp intake of breath breaking his stoic expression. His phone nearly slips from his hand, but he catches it just in time.

Then, slowly, as if letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he relaxes. His eyes slide away from the phone screen to your face—your relaxed, sleeping face. And he can't help but think about how determined you looked back there, when you were tracking those mysterious footprints.

Megumi's eyes linger on you, a softer expression easing the usual severity of his features.

As much as he hates to admit it, he's impressed. You've shown him a glimpse of your potential today. More than that, you've given him something else to think about, something that nudges at the edges of his mind but doesn't quite settle into a coherent thought yet.

Maybe it's hope. Maybe it's pride. Maybe it's something more personal that he doesn't even want to explore right now.

For now, it's enough. The two of you in this train cart, your head on his shoulder, and the whisper of untapped power hanging in the air like an unspoken promise.

It's enough.

A/N: oh, wow, thank you all for the support! i hope you enjoy my writings as much as i do writing them...

🇾‌/🇳‌'🇸‌ 🇵‌🇴‌🇼‌🇪‌🇷‌🇸‌/🇦‌🇧‌🇮‌🇱‌🇮‌🇹‌🇮‌🇪‌🇸‌ 🇦‌🇳‌🇩‌ 🇹‌🇭‌🇪‌🇮‌🇷‌ 🇩‌🇷‌🇦‌🇼‌🇧‌🇦‌🇨‌🇰‌🇸‌:

...Timebound Steps: Historical Trace...**

Let her see footprints/traces from up to 30 days in the past. Can focus on specific individuals' footsteps/curse traces... Drawbacks: Using this ability for an extended period drains her energy...

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, ABSOLUTELY NOT.

ship: jjk men/women: megumi, yuji, nobara & sukuna x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.3k a/n: Okay, I swear this is my last time updating this mini-series/one-shot list 😭😭...go to 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨. ʲʲᵏ if you want to understand this.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Why is it always me? You can't help but think, rooted to the spot some 50 feet away from the mayhem unfolding before you.

The shrill screams of a large curse fill the air, mingling with the sound of combat and the crackling of mystical energies.

Kugisaki Nobara is a force to be reckoned with, a whirlwind of determination and raw power. "You think you're special? Eat this!" she shouts, hurling nails as if they're extensions of her willpower. With the skill of a veteran, she thrusts her nails into her voodoo doll, her face a focused mask of determination.

Simultaneously, long, slender nails shoot forward, pinning the enormous curse to a graffiti-riddled wall as if it's nothing more than a bug on a display board.

As Nobara holds the beast in place, Megumi steps into action. His eyes narrow into slits of focus as a low, "Great Serpent," leaves his lips, manifesting his shadowy snake from the dark abyss beneath him.

With the speed of a striking cobra, the serpent lunges at the pinned curse creature, coiling and squeezing the life out of it. The snake's grip is relentless, squeezing with the sort of pressure you'd expect from an anaconda on a mission. The curse begins to writhe, bulging out as if it's about to burst.

But that moment of triumph is short-lived. The curse's markings on its forehead start to glow a vivid, eerie color. It lets out a spine-chilling shriek and its body expands violently, breaking free from both Nobara's nails and Megumi's snake.

The serpent dissipates into a puff of black mist, and the nails retract, leaving the wall empty.

"Yuji!" Megumi shouts, urgency filling the single syllable.

"On it!" Yuji replies with a hint of glee in his voice, launching himself forward with uncanny speed. In a flash, he's airborne, his body a missile targeted at the curse. The 'crack' of his headbutt against the curse resonates like a gunshot.

The creature stumbles back, its head literally cracking open as its cursed energy evaporates into nothingness. What's left behind is a pile of black sludge, gross but inconsequential.

"Whoop! Whoop!" Yuji and Nobara cheer, high-fiving with both hands, their faces glowing with animated smiles. Megumi rolls his eyes but can't completely hide the twitch of a grin threatening at the corners of his mouth.

And you? You stand there, a good, safe 50-foot distance from the all-consuming chaos. Your knees shake like maracas, your arms tremble as if they're about to detach from your body, and your face? Blank as a canvas. But your twitching eyes, they betray your inner turmoil. Clutched to your chest is a small labrys axe—a double-sided battle axe—brimming with cursed energy.

Useless in your hands, it might as well be a child's toy.

Why? What have I done in my past life to deserve this? You mentally sob, watching as Yuji mouths something and pointing in your direction.

As if on cue, all three pairs of eyes swivel your way—Yuji's bright and brimming with boyish enthusiasm, Nobara's playful with a sly grin that promises endless teasing, and Megumi's unreadable but alert. They start making their way toward you, the distance shrinking with each step.

But as they saunter toward you, your attention is helplessly yanked back to the sludge pile behind them. Your stomach tightens as you watch a new abomination—something you can only describe as nightmarish—emerge from behind a broken wall, a spider-like curse with a melting human head.

Its eyes are hollow pits, its mouth frozen in a scream of perpetual horror, dark wisps fluttering in and out as if tasting the very air. The creature crawls over to the sludge and burrows into it.

Your heart pounds an ominous rhythm as a sense of foreboding thickens the air around you.

That's not good, that's not good, that's not good,thatsnotgood,thatsnotgood—The mantra echoes relentlessly in your mind as the sludge begins to move; It divides, then divides again, at a pace that's slow yet undeniably accelerating.

A thick dread clogs your throat; you feel like you're about to drown in your own terror.

"Hey, L/N-chan," Yuji says, snapping you back to the present. "How was the observation? Did you like it?"

"Of course she did! I was amazing as always! I'm sure to have stolen the show with my amazing cursed techniques!" Nobara snarks, flipping her hair.

"Always so confident. I'm the one that killed it," Yuji fires back.

"Yeah, but if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been able to do that, now would you?"

"Yes, I would!" Yuji retorts, his face flushing red in frustration. "I could have caught it with or without your help, right Megumi, L/N-chan?"

Megumi, deeply engrossed in whatever's on his phone, emits a noncommittal 'hm,' obviously uninterested in their banter.

Nobara pivots toward you with conviction, taking a strong stance. "Why do you need to involve L/N-chan? You already have Megumi! Us girls need to stick together," she declares. Throwing her arm around your shoulder, she pulls you in, squishing your head against her chest in an affectionate, but slightly awkward, hug.

At that moment, Yuji's eyes go wide, bulging like they're about to pop out of his skull. His lips twist into a scowl as he shouts, "Why do you have her head so close to your breasts, huh!?! You trynna make a move or some!? Cut it out!"

"Ehhh?? What are you talking about!?" Nobara shouts back, incredulous and unyielding as she pulls you even closer into her embrace. Your face flushes, a wave of warmth spreading across your skin as you're further engulfed by the softness of her chest.

On one hand, you can't really complain; you've always been a boob girl, after all. On the other hand, the tension is palpable—lives are at stake here!

"Kugisaki-chan, there's—" you try to speak, your voice muffled and nearly drowned out by Yuji's raging retort.

"Bullshit! There's nothing friendly about that!" Yuji snaps, pointing a quivering finger at Nobara as if she's committed some grave offense. "Let her go!"

Nobara's eyes narrow, her gaze meeting Yuji's like flint striking steel. "Or what?"

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself standing next to Megumi, a safe distance from the escalating conflict. Yuji and Nobara are now on the ground, rolling around and shouting things neither coherent nor particularly relevant.

Blinking, you turn to tug on the bottom of Megumi's sleeve. He hums a soft acknowledgment and looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. God, they're striking—a beautiful abyss you could get lost in if the world weren't falling apart around you. "Fushiguro-kun, I believe we're about to die at the legs of dozens of ghost-curse hybrids."

Megumi raises a brow, clearly not buying what you're selling. "Okay, let me know how it goes," he quips with a smirk, clearly amused by your apparent 'hallucination.' Without another word, he drops his gaze back to his phone, scrolling through whatever he deems more important than your imminent doom.

Seeing you're getting nowhere with him, you pivot toward Yuji and Nobara, raising your voice to pierce through their energetic banter. "Itadori-kun!"

His attention immediately snaps to you, eyes bright and alert. He's listening, even if Megumi isn't.

Your eyes dart from Yuji to the multiplying piles of sludge now proliferating ominously behind them—twenties, and still counting. There's an itch of desperation in your voice, a skittering dread that you hope doesn't betray how badly your nerves are frayed.

"Uh, yeah, you guys were great and all—like, seriously, watching you three fight was both epic and terrifying, but—"

"But?" Yuji interrupts, leaning in with a quizzical look, as if expecting you to lavish him with more praise.

"—but you might want to look behind you," you say, biting your lip. Your hand grips the cursed axe to your chest as if it were a lifeline. "Like, now. Right now."

Megumi suddenly perks up. He senses the shift in your tone, a raw edge that can't be faked. Nobara, too, pauses, her teasing smirk flattening into a line of concern.

"What are you talking about?" Yuji asks, still half-grinning as if expecting this to be some sort of joke.

But before anyone can respond, the piles behind them start to shudder, to bulge and stretch as if being inflated.

And then, as if on cue, new, horrifying forms start to emerge from each of them—monstrous silhouettes pulling themselves free from their sludgy wombs, eager to begin their cursed existences.

As the horrifying new spider-head creatures pull themselves free from the piles of sludge, Megumi finally takes you seriously. His eyes widen, and he shouts, "Yuji, Nobara, behind you!"

In a flurry of coordinated chaos, all three jujutsu sorcerers burst into action, leaping toward the new batch of abominations. Nails fly, shadows slither, and fists crackle with cursed energy.

The fight is as mesmerizing as it is terrifying—each sorcerer a marvel of martial prowess, doing battle with the twisted embodiments of humanity's collective fear.

And you? You're left standing alone, your axe still clutched to your chest. Your eyes fixate on a nondescript spot on the graffiti-ridden wall ahead of you. What the fuck have I done to deserve this?! screams your internal dialogue, yet again questioning your cosmic luck.

Soon, you notice something odd. These ghost-curse hybrids are ignoring you, their spidery legs and contorted bodies veering away from your location. They seem completely engrossed in fighting the trio. A part of you starts to feel guilty for the relief washing over you, but really, you're not.

You'd much rather them than you.

Maybe it's because they don't think you can see them, but whatever it is, you're thankful.

Just as you begin to think that maybe, just maybe, they'll handle it and you'll get to go home without being turned into a cursed snack, something goes horribly wrong.

Both Megumi and Nobara get slammed into a wall, hard. They slide down, unconscious, their bodies limp and battered. The silence that follows is thick with tension, pierced only by the eerie clicks and hisses of the ghost-curse hybrids.

Yuji glances at his fallen comrades and then back at the creatures. There's a sense of resigned determination in his eyes. A moment later, his expression twists into something more sinister, the markings of Sukuna becoming visible on his face and hands.

"So, you want to play?" Sukuna's voice drips with a malevolence that makes your skin crawl. He doesn't just join the fight—he dominates it. Limbs fly, curses scream, and in a matter of moments, it's over. The hybrids lie in pieces, their cursed energies dissipating into the air.

Sukuna glances over at you, a devilish grin stretching across Yuji's face. Right after Sukuna's eyes lock onto you, your surroundings blur for a moment, and when they come back into focus, he's right there in front of you.

He harshly grabs a handful of your box braids, pulling your head back so that he can stare directly into your eyes.

As he holds you in his fierce gaze, Sukuna's hand moves from your braids to your face, tightening his grip in a way that's just a touch more painful than it needs to be. His thumb and forefinger squeeze your cheeks harshly, forcing your mouth into an unwilling pout.

"Ah, the fear in your eyes is so intoxicating," he sneers, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Yet there's something else there too, isn't there? A curiosity, perhaps?" His smirk widens, revealing sharp fangs that look like they could easily tear through flesh.

He leans in, his lips hovering over yours, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from them. "You should feel honored," he purrs. "After all, it's not every day you get to meet a Curse as magnificent as me. And even rarer for me to take an interest in someone."

Your heart feels like it's about to jump out of your chest, each beat pounding against your ribcage as if pleading for escape.

His hold on your face shifts, going from gripping your jaw to cradling it as though he's holding something precious. But this is Sukuna; you're under no illusion that his touch means anything other than danger. He angles your face so that your noses almost touch, so close that you can feel the heat from his breath.

You're so overwhelmed by the rush of emotions that you don't even realize a tear has trickled down your face—until his sharp nail softly glides along your cheek, wiping it away.

"Oh, don't you worry, darling," he coos, the malevolence in his voice making you shudder. "I have no intention of plucking those tempting eyes of yours right now. They're far too interesting to harvest in haste."

His fingers caress your cheek in a twisted parody of tenderness. "Besides," he adds, "that brat Yuji is proving to be a rather stubborn houseguest. Constantly throwing furniture around, if you catch my drift. An utter inconvenience, really."

He pauses, allowing his words to seep in, to intensify the chill that's taken residence in your bones. Then, leaning in closer, his lips almost grazing yours, he murmurs, "But mark my words, you will see me again." His smirk widens grotesquely, displaying his fangs in all their lethal glory.

And just like that, in a disorienting flicker of night turning to day, Sukuna is gone. His menacing aura is replaced by Yuji's warm, albeit confused, gaze tinged with concern, holding your face in his hands as if checking to make sure you're real.

Your shoulders drop, and a shaky sigh of relief slips through your lips. The menacing air is gone, replaced by a palpable tension you can't quite place.

Then, it hits you.

Your heart skips a beat as you realize just how intimate this scene is. Your eyes widen, your pulse quickens, and your cheeks heat up as if kissed by embers.

As if hit by the same realization, Yuji's eyes go comically wide. "I-I..." he stammers, his face blooming with color. In a swift, almost frantic motion, he withdraws his hands from your face before breaking eye contact abruptly.

With a hurried motion, he turns and rushes to assist Megumi and Nobara, who are still recovering from their ordeal, leaving you there with your head spinning.

You clasp your heated face between your hands, your heart a frantic drumbeat in your chest. There's a turmoil of emotions swirling inside you—from the horror of almost becoming a curse's feast to the bewildering sensation ignited by the boy who houses that curse.

Despite the dread, despite the near-death experience, you find your mind teeming with questions, with an unsettling curiosity you never thought you'd have.

What did Sukuna mean by all of that? And why does the prospect terrify you and intrigue you in equal measure?

A/N: okok, i swear im done stop with the spam updates, 😭😭😭

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, OKAY.

ship: jjk men: satoru, megumi & yuji x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.2k a/n: I'm obsessed with this JJK/Mieruko-Chan crossover 😭😭😭 I literally have several one-shots created; i'm fighting not to post them all at once...must read 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐡, 𝐍𝐨 to understand this.

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Still dazed, you find yourself sitting in the backseat of a car with tinted windows, flanked by Megumi and Yuji. They're conversing in low voices, using jargon you can't even begin to understand. Curses, domains, sorcerers—this is like a whole new language, and you're a student who just walked into an advanced class unprepared.

The car comes to a smooth stop, and Megumi nudges you lightly. "We're here."

As you step out, you take in the imposing, solemn structure that is Tokyo Prefectural Jujutsu High School. It's not what you'd call inviting.

Your heart is still beating faster than the snare in a trap song, and you're desperately trying to reconcile your reality when Megumi mutters two words that send a chill down your spine: "He's here."

As if on cue, a man—Gojo, you later learn—steps into the dimly lit street, his demeanor as casual as if he's strolling in a park. His shades are on, but you can tell he's not one to be trifled with. He's Satoru Gojo, and even in this twisted world, his reputation precedes him.

Gojo saunters up to the group, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "Megumi, Yuji, you've caught a wild one, haven't you?"

His eyes shift to you, and for a moment, you feel as if you're about to be swallowed whole by the universe. Slowly, deliberately, he removes his shades.

The blueness of his eyes is like plunging into the deepest part of the ocean and discovering a world untouched by light. It's spellbinding, surreal, a celestial hue that you've only seen in dreams or talked about in myths. It's as if he holds a piece of the sky in his gaze, and you're a mere mortal graced by its magnificence. The universe, for a second, ceases to expand; it's just you and the cosmic dance in Gojo's eyes.

And then, he does something unexpected. Gojo cups your jaw, lifting your face to meet his gaze. His touch sends electric jolts through you, but your eyes are the star of the show here.

"Ah, just as I thought," Gojo's voice is a rich timbre that vibrates in the air like a plucked guitar string. "I've heard stories about your clan. It's like staring into a blend of opal and gold, shimmering amidst a haze of smoky cursed energy. It's downright mesmerizing."

You can barely process his words. Your eyes? A marvel? The thoughts whirl around your brain like they're caught in a tornado, trying to find some logic or reason. You've always had brown eyes—just brown, not even a unique or exotic shade. They're as common as dirt, or so you thought. Is he messing with you?

But it's not just your internal monologue that's going a mile per minute; Gojo seems to be having his moment too.

"Oh, would you look at this," he breathes out, almost as if talking to himself but loud enough for you to hear. "Your eyes, young lady, are a marvel, an infinite swirl of potential that could hold even the strongest curse captive. Enchanting and terrifying, all at the same time..."

Then, as he gazes into your eyes, something incredible happens—Gojo's usually unwavering demeanor shifts—his eyes widen just a fraction. The man who seems unflappable, who holds the reins of unimaginable power, shows a flicker of vulnerability. It’s almost like he's caught in a daydream, his gaze fixed on the swirling cursed energy within your irises. His words fall away, replaced by a silence that feels almost sacred.

Internally, you're still reeling. Your focus keeps bouncing back to his eyes—the boundless oceanic blueness, the unfathomable depth that gives you the sensation of freefalling through clouds. You can write an entire anthology about those eyes, comparing them to sapphires, the ocean, or maybe even to galaxies far, far away.

It's like they contain a lifetime of experiences, a myriad of unspoken tales, and, for a moment, you're absolutely drunk on the idea that those eyes are focused solely on you.

A second stretches into an eternity, but then Gojo blinks, breaking the hypnotic trance as quickly as it had formed, an appreciative grin growing on his face. "Eyes are windows to the soul, they say, but in your case—no, in the case of your lineage—those windows look out into a universe of infinite cursed energy."

Gojo finally releases you, and the absence of his touch feels like being snapped back from a different dimension. Your cursed energy, those swirls of smoke and shards of gold and opal, seem to settle, as if disappointed that the examination is over.

"Makes me wonder what else you're capable of," Gojo grins, slipping his shades back on, restoring the universe to its original settings.

Confusion washes over you, as well as Yuji and Megumi, but Gojo's already two steps ahead. "Time for a history lesson!"

Gojo leads you three into a nearby classroom, grabbing a piece of chalk as he goes. He draws vague symbols and stick figures, trying his best to sketch eyes with swirls in them before hopping onto the teacher's desk and sitting like he owns the place—which, in a way, he does.

"Alright, kiddos, listen up. It's story time," he starts, keeping the tone light and engaging, using his hands for exaggerated effects as if narrating a dramatic tale. "So your family was originally one of the four top clans in jujutsu history."

"Wait," you interject, "We were? What happened?"

"Oh, you'll love this part," he grins. "See, your ancestors were oozing cursed energy from every pore. They didn't have a core; their entire soul was the core. But some jerks—sorcerers gone rogue—decided to get all siphon-happy. Your ancestors got hunted down one by one, so they had to improvise."

"And that's why my cursed energy is in my eyes?" you ask, catching on.

"Exactly! Your clan realized their eyes could become mini-storage units for all that cursed energy," Gojo nods, then tilts his head as if recalling something. "But then came another issue. The eyes? Well, they became a dead giveaway. All the spirits and sorcerers needed was one look into those peepers, and bam! Secret's out."

"Then how did they survive?" Yuji asks, finally catching on to the importance of the story.

Gojo's smile turns devilish. "Ah, that's where my clan comes in. Your ancestors found refuge with the Gojos. We taught them the art of the blindfold, see? Of course, in the Gojo clan, only those with the Six Eyes needed them, but the knowledge was shared, and voila! Your ancestors blended in."

You think about the story so far, letting it sink in. "So... what happened to those who didn't want to wear the blindfold?"

"They evolved! Their cursed energy sort of rigged itself so that they wouldn't see anything supernatural until puberty hit. A late bloomer's guide to the jujutsu world, if you will. But that's not all, your clan had a hidden talent up their sleeve. Stare into their eyes long enough, and whoever's watching turns into a daydreamer—giving your ancestors time to beat feet."

"Wow, that's a lot to process," Megumi mumbles.

"You're telling me," you sigh, feeling a headache form.

"Also, fun fact—you're kinda related to us Gojos, Zenins, and Kamos. Your clan mixed into the big leagues," Gojo adds as an afterthought.

"Wait, related? Like, for real?" Yuji blurts out.

"In a 'sixth cousin twice removed' sorta way, but yeah," Gojo shrugs.

"But what about my family now? I've got a little brother, a mom—" you start, concern filling your eyes.

"Ah, the power is female-centric. No worries about your brother. Your clan was one of the big four once, you know. Would you like to reclaim that glory? How about joining the Jujutsu Academy?"

You sit there, your eyes narrowing as you drift deep into your thoughts.

Jujutsu Academy? Do I look like Hermione Granger to you? your inner monologue rants, bordering on absurdity.

I'd rather binge-watch an entire season of a K-drama without subtitles than deal with this voodoo, cursed energy crap. FUCK NO!

But then your thoughts take a darker turn. You remember the freaky, slimy baby-ghost thing that haunted your bed, turning your once safe space into something straight out of a horror movie. The truth hits you like a ton of bricks: there is no safe space anymore. Not your room, not your home, nowhere. Great, so my bed's canceled. Might as well go live in a salt circle.

Just then, you catch Yuji and Megumi in your peripheral vision. Yuji is animatedly gesturing to Megumi about something, probably something inconsequential, but his enthusiasm is contagious even from a distance. Megumi, though irritated, looks like he's barely tolerating it—his signature vibe. But underneath that icy demeanor, you sense a readiness, a fierce commitment to this new, crazy world you're now a part of.

A realization starts to wash over you. If you stick around with these two, you might not have to be the 'Ghostbuster' of your own life story. They'd annihilate any creepy, cursed beings that dare cross your path. You wouldn't be in this alone; you'd be a part of something way bigger, and in some twisted way, safer.

Your resolve firms up, snapping you out of your internal debate. You look straight at Gojo, your face still showing the aftershocks of your internal monologue, and you nod your head so fast it's comical. "Yes, sensei!" you blurt out, your voice tinged with an awkward combination of reluctance and eagerness.

Gojo chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. "Welcome to the team."

Gojo slouches in his chair at the long conference table, his shades concealing his eyes as he flips open his phone to shoot a text to Nanami.

Gojo: Stuck in a meeting. Shoot me now.

Nanami's reply is almost instant.

Nanami: Walk out. You're a grown man. Now stop texting me. I don't get paid to converse with you.

Gojo huffs, thumb hovering over the screen to reply when the man at the head of the table clears his throat, commanding attention. With a sigh, Gojo tilts his head toward his phone.

Gojo: Bye, Nami. Duty calls.

He snaps the flip phone shut with an exaggerated motion and drops it on the table, finally giving the council his half-interested gaze.

The room's atmosphere is heavy with tension as Gojo sits among the higher-ups of the Jujutsu world. The long conference table feels like a divide between him and the group of councilmen on the opposite side. The air is thick with unsaid implications.

"We've heard you've taken a new student under your wing," one of the officials starts, shuffling papers on the table before staring into Gojo's shades. "A...remnant of a very specific lineage."

"So?" Gojo replies, feigning innocence but feeling the weight of unsaid implications fill the room.

"You understand the importance of your student's lineage, yes?" One council member drones on, eyebrows arched in what might be either sincerity or mockery; it's hard to tell.

"The power they possess could be invaluable for the future of the Jujutsu community," another chimes in, eyes flicking nervously toward Gojo as if expecting a sudden violent outburst. "And given her relation to existing clans, Gojo, Zenin, Kamo... it would be... beneficial to have her integrated into one of our own families. Through matrimony."

Gojo feels the absurdity of the situation settle in, even if his face shows none of it. "Matrimony?"

"Yes," the man continues, "an arranged marriage. To ensure her unique abilities are passed on. To strengthen our sorcerer lines."

And then, they finally lay their cards on the table. Arranged marriages. Controlled breeding. The hallmarks of treating a human being as nothing more than a repository for genetic material.

"That's what this is about? Making my student a baby factory?" Gojo can't hold back; his laughter fills the room, cold and biting. It's not the joyful laughter he shares with his students, but something icier—a laugh tinged with disgust.

Silence settles in the room, thick and palpable. They can't deny it, can't dress it up with any more euphemisms or distractions.

His laughter dies down, replaced by an unsettling calm. With deliberate effort, Gojo straightens up, no longer slouching in dismissive boredom. "Nah, I don't feel like it," he says, his voice devoid of its prior levity. He stands, each movement telegraphing an air of finality.

As he takes the first step toward the door, he suddenly halts, every line of his body taut with purpose. With a slow, menacing motion, he slides his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, locking eyes with each council member in turn. His icy blue eyes are no longer twinkling with mischief; they're as hard as frozen lakes.

"And if anyone tries to take my precious student away from me...I'll kill 'em."

There's no bluster, no exaggeration. Just a promise.

With that, he pushes his shades back into position, shielding the windows to a soul that, unlike those of the council members, is not up for sale or negotiation. He pivots, yanking open the door, and strides out, letting the door slam shut behind him with a resounding finality that echoes long after he's gone.

A/N: The way i be indulging in the self-insert is WILLDDD 😭😭 someone take the intenet away from me because i fear im not gon stop with the Miko/JJK concept 😫

[winxanity-ii]

YEAH, NO.

ship: jjk men: megumi & yuji x fem!miko!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 664 a/n: Writer's block a bitch lol. Here's a short one-shot of something I have on the backburner (or not) we'll see how my hectic mind goes...

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

Your feet pound the pavement, your breath coming in sharp bursts. You're clutching a bag of freshly baked buns, a little present for Hana. Spirits? Haunting? Not your concern tonight—until it is.

You slip into a narrow backstreet, missing the almost invisible, mystical black curtain that separates the world you know from the world you shouldn't.

You're in the blind spot of the universe, and it's about to show you its hidden scars.

Megumi Fushiguro is like an artist, each movement a brushstroke sealing away malevolent energy. Almost done, he thinks, ignoring the sweat trickling down his brow. Yuji Itadori is the muscle, clutching a wriggling curse with one arm, feet balanced on a half-destroyed building like a gargoyle with an attitude.

Just as Megumi's hands lock in the final gesture, you come to a sudden, jarring stop, your eyes going wide. What the hell is happening here?

Yuji's eyes dart, instantly spotting you. He drops, landing softly on the ground, releasing his captured curse momentarily. "Hey, Megumi! Who’s the chick?"

Megumi swivels around. His eyes meet yours, and for a second, the world blurs. Who is she? How did she get here? Why didn't I sense her? "How did you—"

Then, disaster: the curse breaks free, squirming out of Yuji's grasp. "Oops," he mumbles, convinced it doesn't matter.

You can't hold back your shock. A yelp escapes your lips, your body reflexively stepping back. The curse screeches, as if mocking your newly discovered reality. You can see it. Oh God, you can see it, and it sees you.

Time slows. Just as the curse lunges toward you with malevolent eyes, you're yanked back, your body colliding with Yuji's muscular chest. He's shielding you—what the hell is going on?

Without missing a beat, his fist glows with an ethereal light, and he punches the curse, sending it flying a few feet away. Before it can recover, Megumi's shadow dogs converge on it, snapping and growling, then consume it until there’s nothing left but ashes.

Yuji releases you and you stumble out of his hold. Your mind races with unspoken profanities. What the ever-loving hell was that!?

He looks at you, a boyish grin appearing on his face, and scratches the back of his head. "Well, that was something, huh?"

Silence blankets you all. Yuji tilts his head, an innocent curiosity in his eyes. "Hey lady, did you see that curse?"

Your poker face snaps back in place, but your hands tremble like leaves in the wind. "C-Curse? What curse? I didn't see anything," you stammer.

Idiot. Why did you stammer? Now they know.

Yuji looks back at Megumi, puzzled. "Megumi, she says she didn't see anything."

Megumi rolls his eyes. "Of course you'd believe her."

Desperation tingles down your spine. You're almost pleading now. "No. No. No. Please, believe me, I just got lost because I'm not from—"

A sinister second mouth erupts on Yuji's cheek. "Say what you will, but we all know you're lying."

What in the ever-loving hell was that?

Yuji clamps his hand over his cheek, but it's too late. "Y-y-your…" You stagger backward, your heart pounding like a war drum in your chest.

Move, move, move! your mind screams.

"Hey, hey, calm down, it’s just a trick of the light," Yuji begins, but is interrupted again. A demonic eye and mouth appear on the back of his hand. "Boo!"

Ignoring your desire to scream, you reign in your emotions. You give a 90-degree bow, every muscle in your body coiled like a spring. "You’re right, sir, it’s just a trick of the lighting. Have a good night and safe travels."

Turning on your heels, you stride forward, but fate has other plans. You bump right into Megumi, your nose smacking into his chest, your entire frame freezing. Damn it, not now.

Megumi's hand instinctively finds your waist, anchoring you to the reality you wish to escape. He leans down, his voice a whispered storm, "We'll see about that."

A/N: If you haven't, I recommend the anime/manga "Mieruko-Chan" it's hilarious asf 😫😫 Miko is my spirit animal because if i can see ghosts, I'll be damned if I let them know, I'll pretend to see not a DAMN THING until the day I die 😭😭😭😭

[winxanity-ii]

❀ ° • • • ╮ 𝖂𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 ╰ • • • ° ❀

18+ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐤(𝐬) | 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭

The name's Xani, and welcome to my blog where i push out all the delusional scenarios/stories—both sfw and nsfw—my maladaptive daydreams like to stir up...

i'm not really sure how this goes, but if you guys have an idea you'd like to see written, send it, and hopefully my delusions will work in overdrive to complete them...

um, what else? i guess all i can say is don't hold back! though i may be new to this posting stuff, i've had my fair share of experiences, so whatever you think of, i most likely dabbled in it...

and if i do a good enough job on something and have more spunk in the gunk, i'll do my best to do a continuation on whatever...

also, don't be afraid to reblog/like either! it let's me know i'm doing a good job (not that i like being praised or anything hahahah, unless 👀)

i guess that's all. bye!

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR **

Recent Fic: 𝐈 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐭 ~ Install 5 | 🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽 | Yandere!Andy x Fem!Reader / Alien!AU

Top 6 Recent One-shots:

Big Fat Meany 🔞 | stepbro!megumi / non-sorcerer!au

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Like What You See?🔞 | fashion designer!gojo / model!au

Helping Hand | yuji / college!AU

Game Over 🔞 | gamer boyfriend!gojo / non-sorcerer!au

**Please note that this blog is intended for audiences aged 18 years and above, minors DNI. Here, you'll find a mix of both safe-for-work (SFW), not safe-for-work (NSFW), and dark content.

And just a friendly reminder, if you prefer not to see certain types of content or are under 18, it's best not to proceed further. While I cannot fully control who accesses my work, if you so happen to be a minor who ignores this warning, and honestly, can't shame 'cuz I did the same when I was younger💀 I encourage you to read at your own discretion.

PLEASE READ BELOW BEFORE REQUESTING:

NOTE: I do NOT have a set writing-schedule! This is just a space for me to dump my self-insert writings, but feel free to ask questions/leave comments, they make my day 😊❤️❤️....

Also, I will NOT be responding to malicious Anonymous/Anon asks or posts; if you do, you will receive 1 reminder of this before getting ignored. It's nothing personal—I just prefer to respond to someone whose intentions are to criticism/expect me to change to their desires. If you have genuine questions, thoughts, or feedback, please reach out so we can have a real conversation, as well as get your questions fully answered and see more about what my mind is coming up with!

If not all, the majority of my work(s) will be written with the heavy intentions of poc!reader/black!reader but can be read by any ethnicities/races. Also, please understand that anything I write is solely for my enjoyment—if anything, you guys are just tagging along witnessing my delusions come to life in real-time; if you don’t like what I create, scram and make your own…like I did 😁

P.S. The quickest and swiftest way to get blocked is by telling me what I need to do in my writing(s)... like, be for real 😐

Also, and I can't possibly stress this enough, please refrain from stealing/plagiarizing ANY of my works! I am passionate about sharing my creations on this platform, but I must emphasize that I am the sole legal owner and author of any of my works posted. Any unauthorized use or plagiarism of my work will result in immediate takedown and legal action taken. Respect for copyright is essential to maintain the integrity of my original storyline and the characters within, and if not, I have zero-problems with taking them down indefinitely! Enjoy~😊

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𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: lulu-4-u | Lusion