Yuji Fluff - Tumblr Posts

This is so cute

⋆｡°✩ YOU LOOK SO PRETTY / PRETTY LIKE THE SUN

sweet moments with fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), first jjk reaction post !! this was so hard to write ngl, header from pinterest, title from tom odell - black friday

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is in love with you.

dusk is filled with golden rays and city lights. you walk side-by-side with megumi in a comfortable silence. these quiet moments with you had always been rare but cherished moments - a small amount of time when you both could finally breathe. 

years of fighting curses had taken its toll on you. with death always just one wrong move away, megumi had grown accustomed to cherishing the little moments with you: when you made him coffee in the morning before he woke up; when you waited at his bedside after he was injured in a fight; when you forcefully put some of your food on his plate after noticing that he wasn’t eating enough.

megumi had never grown up with a view of a real romantic relationship - all of his experience came from side plots in manga and being dragged into watching movies with yuuji - but he was smart enough to realize why his heart beat so fast around you. why he blushed so easily when your hand brushed against his. why he desperately wanted more.

megumi stops when you pause in your steps, stretching out your shoulders. a content sigh escapes you as you look out towards the shore. “the sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” you say, your eyes trained on the hues of pink and blue filling the sky. 

megumi glances at the skyline, only taking in the sight momentarily before he turns back to you. all the beautiful things he’s heard about “golden hour” seem to come true. the sun peeks out from behind various buildings, illuminating your silhouette. you softly smile as you look up at the clouds above.

“yeah,” he smiles; his gaze remains trained on you. “beautiful.”

fushiguro megumi is in love with you. now, he just has to tell you.

ITADORI YUUJI is - surprisingly - not a bad cook. over his months at jujutsu high, he had become the unofficial chef in the dorms. so when you fell ill, it was no surprise when he took on the responsibility of nursing you back to health.

your body is little more than a mound of blankets when yuuji creeps into your room; a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. he moves with the utmost care as he makes his way across the room before setting the bowl down on your bedside table. despite your puffy eyes and red-tipped nose he smiles, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

you stir awake at his touch before slowly blinking up at him. “hi y/n,” yuuji whispers. “feeling any better?”

he receives a groan in response. “i feel like death,” you rasp out. 

yuuji reaches over, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re still really warm,” he mumbles. “i don’t think your fever has gone down at all.”

his cheeks flush slightly when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. your skin is overly warm and slightly clammy, but yuuji doesn’t mind. instead, he intertwines your hands together. 

“here,” he says, using his free hand to hold up a spoonful of the soup he made. “try it. maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

the metal spoon burns your tongue and the broth is a little too salty, but it soothes your throat all the same. “thank you,” you murmur. “it’s delicious.”

yuuji simply smiles brightly, holding out yet another spoonful for you. “of course.”

“do you know japanese sign language?”

INUMAKI TOGE stares at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden question. it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but it was something no one had bothered to ask before. 

finally, after a short period of silence, he nods. “salmon.”

toge had grown accustomed to being left out. even while around the most supportive people, he often found himself struggling to be heard - both literally and metaphorically. after all, it was difficult to communicate with others through origini ingredients. 

that didn’t make it any less hurtful, though. 

you smile brightly, hesitantly signing along to your words as you speak. “i’ve been practicing a little. i wanted to surprise you.”

toge’s face flushes; his jacket does little to hide the way his blush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. your movements are a little sloppy and you’re clearly nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it. no one had ever put in this much effort to speak to him before. to not only listen, but understand what he means. 

“thank you,” he signs in return. he pauses for a second, hesitating slightly before he continues. “i love you.”

“i don’t think i know that one.” toge simply smiles, leaning in to pull you into a kiss. he’ll tell you what it means soon enough. but for now, his flushed cheeks and soft smile tell you everything he means to say.

the safest place in the world is within OKKOTSU YUUTA’S arms. you can’t remember when it became a routine for the two of you. he would return home and immediately seek you out; his fingers curl around your waist and tug you closer until your back reaches his chest. 

a soft sigh escapes his lips as he rests his chin against your shoulder. the pieces of your bodies fit together like a puzzle - from the way yuuta intertwines his fingers with your own to how seamlessly his arms wrap around you. 

messy strands of ink black hair brush against the side of your neck when yuuta nuzzles himself even closer against you. his breath ghosts against your shoulder as he leans down, pressing a few lazy kisses over the fabric of your shirt. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” your fingertips trace along little cuts and deep bruises decorating yuuta’s hands. “do they hurt?”

he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. it feels trivial to be in pain over such minor injuries, but yuuta has never been the best liar. “only a little,” he murmurs.

you frown slightly, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips. the soft kisses you press against the fresh wounds leave him breathless. with a flushed face and a soft smile, yuuta presses a chaste kiss against your cheek in return. “thank you.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

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the hymns of you | itadori yuuji + fem reader

Summer love is some of the sweetest, and it almost always happens by accident. Maybe that's why the relationship that blossoms between you and Yuuji is so magical; it's new, exciting, and it could be inconsequential in theory. As the end of the season dawns, though, you become convinced that theory and reality cannot be the same. Not this time, anyway.

genre: slice of life; fluff (it's just really romantic); falling in love; light hurt/lots of comfort; a teeny tiny bit of angst if you squint; reader attends uni in Japan; the story is set in an unnamed romantic place.

warnings: non-sexual nudity (skinny dipping, etc.); ambiguous relationship (eventually resolved!); she/her pronouns are used to refer to the reader; all characters are 21+ and in university contextually

words: 10.9k

content notes: this fic is more.. episodic and less linear than some other fics i've written, so keep that in mind. section-break lines (indented, bolded, + italicized) are quoted from Walt Whitman's poem "To You."

other notes: written as a part of @/katsupeach's a long, long fic collab, and, while i know emme's not on anymore, i'm thankful to her for hosting the collab and inspiring me, not only in the case of this fic, but in all of my work <3 thank you, too, to my wonderful beta readers, @yuki-no-akumu and @fairyfuyu! + tagging @anime-central and @hanayanetwork <3

WHOEVER YOU ARE

The first few steps off of a plane are always surreal, especially when your flight was ten hours. You regain your legs, your eyes, but not your mind just yet. When the sun touches your skin—or more accurately, your eyes—it’s with a stinging sort of freshness, the only of its kind in the stale airport. Once you’re out, though, it’s a different story.

It’s pleasantly warm and sunny, and luckily, the breeze is cool when it comes. When your cousin had asked you to house-sit for them at this time of year, you’d been hesitant. Sure, the scenery is beautiful, the local food is delicious, and you could rarely afford to travel, but you thought it would be deathly hot. You thought the air would be dense with humidity, unbearable. The air is sweet as you get into your cab, though. It’s sweeter as you pull up to your cousin’s neighborhood, and even sweeter still when you step out into the afternoon light to survey the town.

It’s small, albeit somewhat crowded. The buildings are old and brown, craning up into the sky at such angles that can only come with years of carrying the lives of so many, both breathing and long gone. Brick streets cobble along unevenly, and their once sturdy tops have been worn flat and smooth. The breeze moves more sluggishly the farther you venture, and on it ride the tightly mingled scents and words wafting between storefronts and clumps of friends and lovers alike.

Your cousin’s apartment overlooks the commercial district; it’s on one of the upper floors of a building just a block past the street’s last café. Behind it, however, are a mere few more blocks of housing, and then a wall of plush grasses and trees, untouched by anything beyond the barest effort to keep it behind the line of the road. Wheeling your luggage, your body feels odd: you’re eager to explore, but you’re exhausted. The only serious thoughts in your head are of a shower followed by collapsing into bed. The rest can wait.

I FEAR YOU ARE WALKING THE WALKS OF DREAMS

There’s something pure about the morning sunlight. Waking up naturally, unprompted by any alarm, you return to the world to find the delicate colorless glow, only scarcely interrupted by nearly imperceptible flecks of dust, floating through the room. Once the haze of sleep dissipates, you hum at the faint smell of…coffee? You shuffle to the window—still open from the previous evening—ah, right, coffee.

The café is visible from your bedroom window. It’s already open. A few people are sitting in the spots of shade on the patio, and you can see even more people milling about inside. The sight (and smell, of course) are reason enough for you to hurry up, get dressed, and head outside.

As you approach, the smell of coffee becomes accompanied by sweet butter and bread and brown sugar. The inside of the café is much larger than you expected, and you relax, grateful to claim a little table by the back window. You pick out a few pastries for yourself, order a coffee, and take your seat. You’re quiet, soaking in your surroundings, letting their noise and color tinge your edges. Letting them bleed into you and steal you away from any version of yourself that could have existed before this moment.

The tables around you, much to your ignorance, fill up quickly, and soon, someone is coming up behind you, tapping your shoulder.

“Sorry to bother you, but would you mind if I shared your table for a sec?”

It is unusual to be so acutely aware of the course of your life changing, but when you think back on this moment, there’s nothing else you can think to label this feeling as. Looking up, you meet a gaze so light and warm that you have to break eye contact.

“Yeah, sure,” you say finally. “I didn’t realize it was so crowded.”

“Oh, thanks a lot,” He smiles at you, and it makes your stomach flip. “I really shouldn’t have assumed you would understand me…I don’t know why I did, but I’m relieved. I’m Yuuji, by the way. I feel like you should know since we’re on a pseudo coffee date now.” The remark makes you chuckle, then he adds: “Sorry, I guess that was kinda forward, huh?”

“It’s fine. Nice to meet you,” you say, and then you give him your name. “Are you a student?”

“What gave me away?”

“Your book bag. Plus, you have that lost puppy look in your eyes.”

“Aw, really? I thought I finally got rid of that! I swear I know my way around.”

At that, you let out another laugh, and his smile widens. “Maybe I’m just projecting because I definitely do not.”

“No? How long’ve you been in town?”

“One singular night.”

“Oh, for real?” His eyes get big and round. “I don’t mean to presume, but if you need someone to show you around…”

There it is again: that perfect smile. It curves up into his whole face, lifting it and crinkling the delicate skin near his eyes. You let yourself be dazzled by it briefly, then make yourself look away again, chuckling.

“I do,” you say. Then, not allowing the space to second-guess yourself, you ask boldly: “You offering?”

“If you’re free after I finish my work, then yeah. I just have a few notes to revise.” He, after digging in his bag for a moment, presents a wrinkled notebook and a bag holding ten of the same black pen.

Taking a mouthful of coffee, you hum affirmatively. Then, you take a map of the area out of your bag, and, picking apart your pastry, look it over. The neighborhood and business district span for quite a while before fading off into the local orchards—not quite commercial but not small enough to just be a few trees in a field, either. In the opposite direction, there are plush fields until the cliffs, then a rocky beach cradling the lake.

The bustle in the café doesn’t falter, seeming only to pick up with the ever-rising sun of midmorning. It comes in pockets: rushes of crinkling wax paper and cordialities. You observe Yuuji when these pockets seem to swell—the voices in the air seeming to say one quick look won’t hurt.

You’d already noticed, of course, that Yuuji’s pretty. He’s not pretty in the way that flowers or fabric or even other boys are. He’s pretty like a tree at the edge of the season: sturdy, fresh growth mingling with vibrant older leaves. Strangely, though, where you might expect to find a hardened exterior, the bark is still soft, almost as if the weather hasn’t been harsh enough to rid it of its youthful pliability.

His eyes, though, felt different. Clear and warm, they seem almost to overflow at their edges. It may be because of where you’re sitting, because of the way the sun slips through his irises in tiny, yellow slits. Ordinarily, you might feel embarrassed when those eyes meet yours after you’d been staring for so long, but they’re so kind—unjudging and almost comforting—that you can’t find it in yourself to do anything but smile.

Yuuji smiles back, then glances at his phone. “Oh, a couple of my friends are on their way here. Would you be opposed to more company?”

“Not especially,” you say.

“You sure? I’m already all up in your business.” He chuckles.

“I’m sure.”

In nearly any other situation, you’d feel more nervous. Even barring how kind and friendly Yuuji is on his own, there’s something about being so far from home that distills your inhibitions. Those things that might be too scary or spontaneous at home are as foreign as the rest of your surroundings; no one thing is more or less familiar.

It’s only a few minutes before a couple more people come into the café, and, even before Yuuji waves them over, you’d known they were his friends. Bickering, one is tall, dark-haired, and outwardly frustrated while the other is smaller, her nose wrinkling at something.

“Megumi, Nobara,” Yuuji says as they approach. Quickly, though, he turns to you again. “Ah, I really should have warned you beforehand, but those two can be a little—”

“I’m fairly sure I can make my own first impression,” the tall one interjects. His voice is cold in the same way a frozen lake is cold: a hard, snowy exterior with something slightly warmer still lapping underneath. “Megumi.”

“Jeez, how’d this guy trick you into sitting with him?” the other one—Nobara, evidently—asks, eyes wide with genuine concern.

“Nobara!” Yuuji whines, tossing his head to the side. The dramatic pout he puts on nearly makes you giggle.

“What? It’s a perfectly reasonable question!”

Megumi wordlessly turns away from the three of you and heads to the counter, returning with an uncovered paper cup of black coffee.

“So, you said you’d be done studying by this time,” Megumi says, interrupting the other two.

“Huh?” Yuuji looks up at Megumi. “Oh, yeah! I am. But, slight change of plans. I made a friend—”

“—tricked someone—”

“—and she just arrived here, so she asked me to show her around. So like…you guys wanna come or like..?”

“Yuuji, if you already have plans, then we can do it another time,” you say. “I’m here all summer.”

“You are? Well, all the more reason to do it today!”

“How do you figure?” Megumi asks, checking the clock on the wall.

“I can’t let her go any longer not knowing her way around, can I? Plus, it’s not like I’ll fall behind.”

You never would have pegged him as being stubborn, but you’d come to learn quickly that trying to argue with Yuuji is nearly always futile. Upon further inspection, you’d see those tell-tale signs of his intentional leading: the twitch of his eyebrow into a partial furrow inviting you to challenge him; the slight upturn of his mouth at the recognition that you won’t. These would be followed, inevitably, by an innocent grin, like he didn’t know what had just passed through the air between you.

The four of you leave the café together: you and Yuuji in the front; Nobara and Megumi following closely behind.

Yuuji, it turns out, is a very bad tour guide. He’s wonderful at presenting the places, but he really doesn’t know where to take you, and it shows. So, Nobara ends up taking the lead, which certainly lends to a…different experience.

That’s how you ended up shoulder-to-shoulder with Yuuji, nudging his elbow with yours as he rattled off the best treats at that café and how kind the owners of that shop were. He would do this until he caught a glare from Nobara, then, after briefly trailing off, it would start again with a little chuckle in your ear.

“Guess I gotta tell it like it’s a secret, huh?” he says this time.

You giggle. It tickles, and he smells good when he comes so close, and you want him to stay that close because it makes your heart feel fluttery. You want him to keep his hand on the small of your back like when he guides you.

By the time the sun begins to set, Yuuji—Nobara—has shown you the whole neighborhood. It might have been a much faster trip if the four of you—Yuuji—didn’t insist on going inside of every single business, dipping into every neighborhood. At some point, just as you’re returning to the main square, Megumi and Nobara take their leave because they “actually really do have assignments.”

“Do you have anyone to eat dinner with tonight?” Yuuji asks you, wrapping his hands around the straps of his book bag.

“I was planning to eat alone,” you answer. “I don’t really mind much. You don’t have to eat with me if that’s what you mean. I’ve taken up way too much of your time already today.”

Though it doesn’t quite feel that way, does it? It doesn’t feel like you’ve had him for quite long enough yet. It’s nice to have a face that has become familiar, nice to have just someone.

“I don’t want to impose on your alone time,” he says, and, internally, you sigh. “But, um, you gotta let me show you some of the places around here. I can’t eat out like, super often, or anything, but some of the folks are cool and give discounts sometimes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, and sweet talking the old ladies doesn’t hurt either.”

That earned him a playful swat on the arm, and, once your laughter died down, he bid you goodnight, promising—for the second time—to take you to dinner soon.

WHOEVER YOU ARE

You truly intend to spend much more time alone on this trip. You leave in the mornings, get a coffee, then wander around in an attempt to find something you hadn’t seen yesterday. These little walks brought you to meet a myriad of interesting people: old women eager to talk about their gardens; young children with their mothers, excited to ask you about where you’re from; shopkeepers and baristas who persuade you to try their new creations each and every time with ease.

What you hadn’t intended, however, was to run into Yuuji in almost all of these places. These meetings started off short; you’d exchange little oh!s and are you busy?s, but these eventually turned into linked elbows and whispers of walk with me.

Today, in particular, Yuuji finds you in a homeware shop some few miles outside of town. It’s quiet, and sweet notes of acoustic strumming play through the tinny little speaker near the cash register. The business is family-run, you learn—though you might’ve assumed as much, seeing as the chain restaurants and stores in this area are few and far between.

Each dish is different from the last.

“Need some dishes?” a voice asks, startlingly close to your ear. It laughs when you jerk away in surprise.

“Ah! Yuuji,” you whine, swatting his shoulder. “You couldn’t have said hello from a normal distance?”

“Oh, come on, that’s no fun.” He chuckles. “Now, are you getting dishes or not?”

“Probably not. I just like looking. Might get some for my friend, though. She asked me to bring her something back from here.”

“Mm.”

“Why? Are you getting dishes?” You pause, resisting the urge to inspect what you know is a mischievous grin. “What are you even doing here?”

“Just passing through. We went to the churches north of here for class today,” he said.

“Mm…for…? What do you study?”

“Film. I’m on this kinda hybrid directing-cinematography thing right now. I have to pick one or the other at the beginning of next year, but for now, I’m doing both.” He leaned on the display case and promptly stood up again under the scrutiny of the girl at the register. “Damn, she’s kinda scary…anyway, what do you study? Or, I mean, are you in school?”

“Yeah, I am. Not while I’m here—I’m on break, thank goodness. I’m kind of at this, like, point where I’m changing what I want to do again, but like, it’s fine.” You sigh. “This is all to say that yes, I’m in school.”

“But the studying itself is a complicated question?”

“Sure is.”

“Gotcha…” Yuuji leans back to look at the girl at the register, then he glances over his shoulder at the street through the window. It’s starting to crowd with folks who just got off work, and the lights of the night market flicker on. “You busy right now?”

“I’m shopping for dishes, actually.”

“Yeah, but after.”

When you look at him, he’s already watching you, and it makes your breath catch in your throat. Suddenly, you can’t remember if you’d been meaning to do anything in particular after this beyond just heading back to your place.

“I’m not busy,” you murmur. It almost sounds like you say it to yourself, but Yuuji either doesn’t notice or is too nice to say anything.

He shifts closer to you, putting his grinning face squarely in front of yours. “Can I take you to dinner then?”

The version of the town you see alone scarcely measures up to the one you experience with Yuuji. While still rich and vibrant, the world seems to open up for him like a flower. Maybe it’s the way he speaks to people with such ease. Maybe it’s the easy slant of his body against every food cart, eyes always glowing with indiscriminate curiosity. Maybe it’s his alarming awareness—his vigilant observation of his surroundings and subsequent reports back to you of did you see that sign? and oh, wow, that’s a nice song! can you hear it? And he leads you straight to the source: an older man singing and plucking beautifully at his guitar.

The man is leaning against a lamppost. His voice is heavy on the breeze: heavy the way your foot is when it sinks to the bottom of a puddle. Swaddled, engulfed, but dense and present and alive.

You glance at Yuuji, and he’s enamored. Humming and swaying: he shuffles about on the brick street, letting his shoes scrape along their surfaces. The light from the storefronts and windows and streetlamps pours over him in thick streaks of amber. It coats him. He glows.

Then, he’s turning to face you. He’s doing it in playful little swings, drawing his arms up to your forearms. To the gentle, bodied strumming of the guitar, he leads you toward the center of the street, and you follow a clumsy few steps before recollecting yourself.

“Yuuji, the restaurant—”

“It’ll be open in five minutes. That place is open basically twenty-four hours, come on.” He smiles, endearing. “Just one dance.”

He pulls you by the wrist, leading you back to the corner. He takes you easily out of the stream of people and into the empty road. The sound of the guitar—the gentle melodic plucks rising high, the near-sleepy underlying strum—weaves through the air, as light and buttery as the scent of the nearby bakery.

Yuuji holds you to him. You’re not flush against one another, though, not at first. He sighs contentedly, though, when you step in closer, arms draping around his broad shoulders, and holds you gently closer, too.

“See, isn’t this fun?” he teases.

You giggle and sway and nod lazily. His cheek is velvety soft and plush against yours, and it stiffens a little, molding with what you know instinctively is a precious grin.

“Mm,” you hum in his ear. “You’re good at this.”

“At what? Dancing? Oh, I know.”

“No, I meant having fun.”

He adjusts his arms around your waist. “Ah, I see.” There’s a hint of playfulness in his voice. “It makes me happy that you have fun with me.” That sentence, however, is completely earnest—it’s so clear that it makes your heart leap, and you have to shift away to look at his face. “What?”

He’s making that face again. It’s his genuine inquiry face: the one where his eyebrows lift and widen his pretty amber eyes even further, that puffs out his lower lip, turns his mouth down at the corners to make him pout—as if he doesn’t already have you at his whim.

“Nothing,” you say. Why do you say that? Why don’t you tell him that his words made your cheeks burn? “I just wanted to look at you.”

That makes him blush, and he laughs nervously. “Ah…come on,” he says and pulls away until he’s just far enough to take your hand. “We should head to dinner, huh?”

The bistro is dim and small and full of laughter. The tables are spread haphazardly about the room—turned and shoved and finagled nearer and nearer to one another as groups of friends combine and spread. You take note of the walls especially. They’re exposed brick and littered with photos and paintings and posters. It’s comfortable. The warm light from the random lamps and candles and sconces is diffused such that the room feels absolutely frozen in time: devoid of any movement forward or back.

Yuuji says something, but you don’t quite hear him over the hum of conversation and clinking of dishes. He rubs the back of his head…wait, is he apologizing?

Coming closer, you say into his ear: “It’s so special, this place. I like it a lot.”

You’ve been on enough dates to know that this night, this dinner, with Yuuji is certainly one. The way he guides you by the small of your back—just as he had the first day you’d met—in tandem with the not-so-subtle swipes he makes toward your hands, inviting and reinviting you to offer it to him: wanting, careful.

He hops up from your table to run to the bathroom, and when the server comes, rather than asking him to come back, you chance an order for Yuuji, feeling oddly confident in your selection. That feeling—the one blooming in your chest—is one you haven’t felt in a long time. Excitement with a swirling core of comfort at its center: it’s a fluttering that’s warm and cool simultaneously.

You swallow, and the feeling is dampened by something heavier. Unable to keep yourself from looking forward, you see the dark edge of your time with Yuuji, and, though it’s far off, it blankets your thoughts in a subtle layer of dread. How to peel this layer away, you wonder, and how to savor time through the lens of premature missing without it.

In other words, can you let this feeling, the fluttering, flourish? Can you let it take root—let it live, nourish and cherish it—when it scarcely has time to blossom?

“You’re looking pensive.” Yuuji’s voice jars you from your thoughts. “What did I miss?”

“Hm?” You move your hand away from your mouth—had you been biting your nail?—and meet his eyes. “Oh, the server came.” Taking a moment to lay your hands on the table, you pause, then say, “I ordered for you.”

At this, his face lights up. “Really?”

Warmth pricks at the nape of your neck. “Yeah…I hope that’s okay.”

“No, no, yeah, it’s totally cool. I’m excited actually to, uh, see what you picked.”

The heaviness is gone when you look at him.

As you continue talking, your hands drift closer to the center of the table. You pick at the wicker of the bread basket and the tablecloth until something more solid grazes you. Following the sensation with your eyes, you stiffen at the visual. Yuuji’s fingertips lay gingerly over your first knuckles, and he uses his index finger to lead the touch further across your hand. When you inspect his expression, he appears focused, and, when he meets your gaze, a bashful smile tugs at his lips.

“Ah, sorry,” he says and moves to retract his hand, but he’s not fast enough.

You hastily grab his fingers. “No! I mean”—you close your eyes briefly in frustration—“I don’t mind.”

You’re thankful for the lift in tension when the server comes with your food. What you’re not so thankful for, though, is how mystified Yuuji looks now. He eyes his food briefly, then looks at you.

“Have I talked to you about eating here before?”

“Um…I mean, you mentioned that you come here a lot..?”

“No, like, about the food.”

“No?”

Yuuji nods firmly, blinks, then says, “This is what I usually order.”

You ask him if he’s joking, and, laughingly, assures you that he’s not. For the rest of the night after that, as you eat and chat and head back home, that fluttering never subsides. Rather, it grows to a burn: a little fire in your tummy.

He takes your hand. He kisses you goodnight. You watch him head home from your window. He looks back at you over his shoulder. You already want him to come back.

NOW I PLACE MY HAND UPON YOU, THAT YOU BE MY POEM

Each morning in this place reveals that they never get old. You wake up a bit earlier than you had yesterday and—while tempted by the white-gold light trickling between the wispy clouds, the dense fragrant waft from the café, and the clusters of words and laughs that float upon the warm breeze—you ultimately decide to stay in and plan.

When you’d found out you’d be coming here, you’d made a list of a few things you wanted to do. The top among these included exploring the local town alone—an activity you’d been psyching yourself up for over the past few months—and finding a way to catalog some of the memories.

The most obvious way to do this would, theoretically, be taking pictures, but you’ve never really been one for taking pictures of yourself, much less asking random strangers to take them for you, so this was all but out of the question. A friend suggested bringing a Polaroid camera, which you considered, but the ideal ultimately gave way to your final decision: from today onward, you will record five seconds of video and compile them together at the end of the summer.

You find such compilations exceedingly sweet: they flutter through the moments that you decided ultimately to capture, they prick at your waterline and burn in the back of your throat with longing and wistfulness and thank goodness—there’s proof this happened. You hope yours turns out like that, too. You hope there will be such lovely things worth remembering.

The app you downloaded for it on your phone seems easy enough to use: hit record, select project, repeat. It compiles them for you (which you’re thankful for since video editing is hard enough on the computer let alone on your phone), so all you have to do is find the moments. Find them and remember to save them.

In your notebook, you put to paper the list you’d been constructing in your mind. This only lasts a few items, though, because after a brief moment you find yourself staring wistfully out the window, chewing the end of your pen absentmindedly.

On the street just outside your building, you see a group of university students, and the flash of pink among their ranks makes your heart leap. You tell yourself that he seems busy, that you shouldn’t text him—you are perfectly content spending some time on your own.

You are. That’s why you gather your things and head down to the bakery across the street—not the café. That’s why you make yourself look away each time your eyes raise to that picture window, clear as day, to watch his silhouette. That’s why you shake yourself and busy your hands with scribbling or picking at your scone, each time your heart aches.

Love has been equated to countless sensations, given endless names, drawn over the most extensive of similes and metaphors. For you, though, it’s quite simple: love is in the wanting. It is in the natural gravity of bodies toward each other. It is in the conscious decision to be closer. It is in the subconscious shifting, the unconscious mirroring. Love is choosing, again and again, to act when natural forces could guide you just as easily.

It’s calling someone up because you want to hear their voice again. It’s taking someone’s hand when brushing knuckles had been enough only moments before. It’s seeing someone through a window and hearing their voice in your head, their laugh.

You return your attention to your notebook, and, forgetting what the rest of your sentence was meant to be, you close it. Yuuji is leaving the café across the street. He sees you. Breaking from his friends, he jogs across the street and beams when he gets to your table.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he says. His voice is sweet. “I was hoping I would see you today.”

“Well, here I am.” You internally curse yourself. Well, here I am? Are you kidding?

Thankfully, though, Yuuji chuckles, then hums. “Here you are.”

I WHISPER WITH MY LIPS CLOSE TO YOUR EAR

You haven’t gone out yet today. You haven’t gone out yet, and you’re wondering if—at this point—you’re even going to bother.

The days have been long. They’ve been full of excessive internal translation, missed phone calls from home, and miscounting change so many times in a row that you briefly consider opening a local bank account just so you can avoid using cash forever. All of this, and you haven’t been able to hang out with the only person you know in this town for nearly a week. He’s a student, after all, who’s here to study.

The two of you stare at each other dumbly for a moment. Yuuji looks remarkably like he’s just turned up here on accident: his eyes are wide, eyebrows raised and alert. It forces a laugh through your nose, and the sound appears to bring him back to Earth.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he says. “You know, I wasn’t totally sure this was where you lived”—he glanced up at the ceiling briefly—“but I’m glad I followed my gut.”

“What’re you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his head. “Ah, well, I haven’t seen ya in a couple days, and I wanted to see if maybe you were free to do something.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you don’t have my number…” you say, already stepping aside to let him in. “Not sure I’m gonna give it to you now since the default is apparently you showing up on my doorstep.”

“You into that?”

“Oh, I definitely am. It was very cute,” you tease.

You attempt to make quick work of showing him around, but Yuuji is easily distracted. He lingers in doorways, at the edges of counters and tables, hands itching to pass through your little piles of paper and memorabilia. He asks what’s yours, what’s not. What you brought from home.

Eventually, the tour ends in the kitchen, where your lunch remains half-made on the counter.

“What’re you makin’?” he asks, stopping you with a hand on the wrist.

“Oh, I was just making…whatever I had around,” you say, chuckling. “I didn’t really have a plan.”

He pushes his lips out a little, bobs his head, and turns to the counter. “You want me to cook for you?”

So, you agree to let Yuuji cook for you. Unsure of what to expect, you hover behind him as he collects more ingredients, rifles through your pantry for dishes, and clears a prep space for himself. Much to your surprise, he seems perfectly comfortable in the kitchen, though, and not in the reckless sort of way—in the way that only comes from hours of experience—and his demeanor brings a fluttering feeling to the base of your throat, a hum to your heart.

You come to stand behind him at the counter, watching over his shoulder as he measures oil.

“You cook a lot usually?” you ask gently in his ear. You don’t want to break his concentration, but that desire is not stronger than the one to hear his voice.

“Oh, yeah…a lot…actually…” Yuuji spoke slowly, not taking his attention away from the measuring spoon. He dumps the liquid into the bowl. “I remember when I first started cooking for Megumi—man, that dude has the funniest reactions to shit, I’m telling you.” He chuckles, then looks over at you finally before continuing, “Yeah, when I first cooked for him, he was all like, ‘Itadori. You’re gonna burn the kitchen down,’ and like, obviously I didn’t.” He smiles brightly to himself at the memory. “He makes me cook for him all the time now.”

“I have high expectations for this, then,” you say, voice thick with fondness despite its soft, airy tone.

Now that he’s finished with his task, you take the opportunity to drape your arms around his waist. Flush against his back, you can feel the subtle ways his firm back draws and flexes with each movement, each tiny adjustment, until his body is perfectly settled where he needs it.

Yuuji giggles and shakes his head. He feels around for another measuring spoon. “Well, don’t put ‘em too high. Can’t be disappointing you.”

I SHOULD HAVE MADE MY WAY STRAIGHT TO YOU LONG AGO

“Are you busy tomorrow?” Yuuji asks, staring at you.

Curled up on the bed beside you, he’s been watching you fold clothes for the better part of the last half hour.

You glance over at him, then chuckle. He looks so earnest—like he’s expecting you to possibly have anything to do beyond whatever he’s about to suggest.

“No, Yuuji, I’m not busy tomorrow.”

“Okay, great,”—he scrambles to sit up, scooting closer to you—“because I want to take you somewhere special.”

Giggling, you set the last towel in the basket. “Oh yeah?”

When you turn your head, you find him much closer than you’d expected, but you don’t startle, and neither does he. He laughs a bit through his nose, and you watch as his gaze raises slowly from your mouth to your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, voice low.

“Hey,” you say back.

“Um, I think you’re really gonna like what we do tomorrow. It’s in this place we all got to go at the start of our program, when we all like, uh, arrived,” he whispers, edging closer to you as he does. By the time he speaks again, the tip of his nose is brushing yours. “And uh, it was funny because…we uh…aren’t…”

“You’re still talking.”

“Sorry.”

There’s silence for a moment, and it sits in the air between your mouths, hanging—suspended in sap, crystalizing. Mindlessly, you wet your lower lip with your tongue, and you swear you can taste the sugar in the air. You two spend a few moments like that: breathing slowly into each other, acutely watching for those little shifts, the little nudges forward, teases toward closing the gap.

Yuuji becomes impatient first. He giggles. It’s an incredulous, airy sound—like he can’t believe you still haven’t kissed yet. And he really can’t; he says as much under his breath before laying his hand, warm and smooth, at the base of your head and finally comes closer.

It’s a slow beginning. His mouth hovers just before yours for a split second, and his lips drag up onto yours. They’re dry and soft, and he somehow applies the perfect pressure; you might think he’d somehow practiced, rehearsed, for this moment, but the giddy chuckle that comes out of him when you remember to kiss him back ruins the sensation so beautifully that you know he’s thinking about as much as you are right now—which is not at all.

Even as Yuuji lifts you into his lap, even as his arms snake around your waist, even as you giggle and sigh against his mouth, neither of you pushes any further. You swirl your fingers delicately in his hair, carefully combing the soft strands, and he holds you firmly, drawing half-minded designs between your shoulder blades. Just this, you think. Just this closeness is enough for now.

You don’t know why you’re surprised to find Yuuji alone when you meet him at the edge of town the next morning, but you are. He’d never said explicitly that this would be just the two of you, but nearly all of your activities thus far had at least started with the façade of being in a group. You’d all four meet someplace, then one way or another, you and Yuuji would inevitably split off—leading by entire city blocks or falling so far behind that you’d lose sight of Megumi and Nobara altogether. Not that you minded, really.

“Hey,” he says warmly, that usual smile tingeing his features at the sight of you.

And it really is at the mere sight of you, too, because even before you’d been within earshot, you’d caught him watching you absently, expression unabashedly dreamy.

“Good morning.” You shade your eyes from the sun beaming from just above his head. “How’d you beat me here?”

“Got excited,” he admits.

This, too, is unabashed—accompanied by his hands grazing your forearms, testing the boundary, waiting to see if you pull away. He hums contentedly when you make the move to take his hands.

“You didn’t eat yet, right?” He cocks an eyebrow at you.

“You said not to, so here I am, hungry and caffeine-free.”

“Not for long,” he promises, folding his fingers between yours. He watches your hands briefly, then continues, “I’ll get ya fed as soon as I can.”

Then, he’s leading you even farther from down and, eventually down a dirt path into what appears to be the forest.

“Yuuji, where exactly are we going?”

“I know it looks super sketchy right now, but I swear it’s not. You’re gonna love it.”

You do notice as he leads you that the greenery lining the road is tended to. The branches are cleanly kept just the right distance from the ground so that there’s a large, arch-like clearance. The grasses and bushes are full and long but trimmed, and, as you approach the bend of the hill, a subtle stone gateway comes into view. There’s no sign, but you can see the rows and rows of trees—all speckled with red fruit.

“Oh my gosh,” you say. “There’s an orchard this close?”

He beams at your excitement. “Right? And they let local people pay to pick some for themselves. Which,”—he tucks you under his arm, mouth coming just next to your ear—“is exactly why we’re here.” He nudges your temple with his nose. “You like?”

“I like.” You confirm your answer by turning and pressing a chaste peck to his mouth.

It’s the first kiss you’ve shared since the previous night, and a cool wash of relief comes over you both.

“Thank fuck, I’ve been wanting to kiss you all morning, but I wasn’t sure—”

“Me either.” You laugh. “’S okay, though. Next time you wanna kiss me…please do.”

“Oh yeah?” he asks, and, when he does, you can hear the grin in his voice.

He takes your chin between his forefinger and thumb and kisses you again, with more substance. With more warmth and more sweetness, with your smiles breaking your lips apart and inviting the summer air between you.

The orchard is beautiful, and, while you do pick quite a lot of fruit, most of it is spent on your tongue before you even leave the dark underbelly of the canopy. Yuuji, with every few fruits, comes behind you and dangles a cherry or two right in front of your mouth.

“Ah,” he prompts, holding his mouth open like he wants you to.

“Aren’t you gonna eat any of them? I’ve had plenty.”

“Well, you know, I would, but interestingly, no one has fed me any.”

You laugh and take the fruit from him, raise your eyebrows, and turn to hold it in front of his mouth.

“You mean like this?”

“Uh-huh,” he says, holding your gaze as he takes it into his mouth.

Squealing, you tug your fingers away. You turn and sort through your collected cherries. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me the cherry stem question yet.”

“Cherry stem question?”

“Oh, you know, ‘can you tie a cherry stem with your tongue?’”

“Oh…can you?”

You snort. “Can you?”

“I’ve never tried…” Yuuji admits. Then, he’s behind you again, arms around your midsection. “You want me to?”

“Listen, I don’t care one way or the other.”

Yuuji snorts, nudging against your temple. “Why’d you bring it up then, huh?”

You hum and lay your head back on his shoulder. “Anyway, I think I’m done picking. My basket’s full.”

He chuckles in your ear, and, once your things are all wrapped and prepared, the two of you head out of the orchard. The sun is inching away from the center of the sky.

Yuuji’s arm comes to drape around your waist, his hand falling against the swell of your hip.

“Hungry?” he asks. “I’ve still barely fed you.”

You move your bag to your other arm, and he takes the opportunity to press in closer to your side.

“I am hungry,” you answer. “Cherries aren’t especially filling.”

“Oh, you don’t have to convince me. I think my stomach is going to digest itself.”

Yuuji seems like he wants to say more, but something distracts him. He eyes you for a moment then ducks down to kiss you. It’s sweet and brief, a gust over your unsuspecting mouth. He tastes like cherry juice and sunscreen. He accidentally breaks from you by smiling too widely—of course, he does—and you chuckle.

“Sorry,” he says, letting his thumb drift lazily over your cheek. “Got excited.”

I WILL LEAVE ALL AND COME AND MAKE THE HYMNS OF YOU

You’ve never been sure how to feel about bucket lists. On one hand, it could make sense for people to set goals about life experiences—this life is a finite resource. On the other, though, it, as you put it to Yuuji and Nobara one night after a glass of wine, “is a little grim, huh? Measuring the like…relative distance we still have to cover before we die.”

They, of course, took the wine away after that, but Nobara egged you on further.

“I’ve got to find out what sorts of things our precious little visitor has on her bucket list.”

“I don’t have a bucket list.”

“I do,” Yuuji interjected. Then, ignoring Nobara when she insisted that nobody asked, he continued, “It has a lot of things on it, and like, I’ve done a lot of ‘em, so I keep coming up with more.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm, and it used to be just like, the basic stuff. You know, um, like, ‘study for my dream job,’ ‘live abroad,’” he said, gesturing to the room with a grin. “‘Skinny dipping. I don’t know, that sort of stuff.”

“Skinny dipping?” you repeated. “I’ve never done that.”

“No? Do you want to?”

That’s more or less how you ended up following Yuuji away from Megumi’s apartment and through the street. The lack of humidity is striking, and the breeze slips along the crook of your bare neck, and it feels almost cold on your damp skin.

“Yuuji, this isn’t allowed, is it?” you ask.

The grass whisks away the bricks underfoot, and the ground feels softer—almost pliable. Like it could swallow you. Maybe that’s the wine, though, or maybe it’s how intensely you can feel Yuuji’s hand in yours. You are scarcely able to notice the world beyond the pull of his calloused fingertips over your knuckles. He’s facing away from you, leading you in perfectly blissful ignorance of your surroundings to the edge of the water.

Then, he’s looking at you, and you know you’re in too deep. It’s there for a moment before he begins undressing, but you catch it: Yuuji looks at you like he’s cradling your face in his hands, like you consume his field of vision. Like you’re the world.

The sun has been down for over an hour, and, while the air is almost cool, the water is warm. You push out of your shoes and bottoms, then strip your top off, dropping it into a pile on the sand. The birdsongs dwindle in the few trees behind the beach. The water calmly laps at the shore.

Yuuji, of course, is in the water first. He wails dramatically at the slight chill, and you laugh, following after him with an ease that should surprise you but doesn’t. You let yourself live, then, in what you will come to call the delusion of Itadori Yuuji.

It isn’t that he is delusional but that he imparts it on you, makes you wistful, and lets you believe that you are special among all things. You’re sure—or rather you convince yourself—ultimately, that he must make everyone feel that way. He’s among a rank of people that illuminates the world with their endearing glances and effortless accommodation to the tiny shifts in your body language. Even among those, Yuuji’s attention is the sweetest, the purest, the most genuine, and lacking in any motivation beyond making you happy—Yuuji is special among those who seem special, too.

After tonight, you tell yourself that you will take care not to let this feeling fester too heavily. This is just fun, right? That’s what it must be with a stranger in a new place.

With someone you’ll never see again.

The water brings you back down to Earth from wherever you’d been floating. It’s fresh and cool, and it moves around you in weak sinks and swells.

“Yuuji,” you call, reaching in his direction.

He comes to you. His hand is warm when it circles your wrist: familiar.

“Having fun yet?” he asks.

“Cold.” Your pout is apparent when you reply, and he laughs.

“Well, you are naked and wet in the dark. Not exactly a cozy combo.”

You groan and continue forward until the water comes up to cover your chest. Then, you let out a little scream. Yuuji comes up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and clutching you against his firm chest. He laughs in your ear when you throw your arms above your head and cheer—congratulating yourself on having done it.

“Yuuji,” you say, laying your head back against his shoulder. “Yuuji, I love being with you so much.”

The stars are beautiful, only partially obscured by the shadow of his hair. His grip around you tightens.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you confirm. As if to punctuate this further, you release a deep breath in a contented sigh through your nose. “Wanna be with you all the time.”

When his lips touch your hairline, they’re smiling. He leans down to give a long kiss to the corner of your eye and another to your temple. His mouth comes close to your ear, and he murmurs: “I’ll stay with you, okay?”

“Forever?”

If in this moment you hadn’t still been intoxicated and sleepy, you, firstly, never would have asked him that, but, more so, you wouldn’t have had to learn through recollection that just here, Yuuji is sad.

It’s apparent in the weight of his sigh when it lands on the shell of your ear. It’s apparent in the way he tucks you tenderly closer, in the way he closes his eyes—eyelashes tracing sweetly against your skin.

Now, though, these gestures just feel purely loving to you. They feel like he’s trying to swallow you up, envelop you, and he is, you think.

“We should get out of here,” he says. “You need to sleep.”

At this, you whine and twist, forcing yourself round to face him. Once you do, you push your face into his neck, kiss his pulse point, and embrace his midsection.

“Stay with me,” you say. “I’ll miss you.”

YOU HAVE NOT KNOWN WHAT YOU ARE, YOU HAVE SLUMBER’D UPON YOURSELF ALL YOUR LIFE

The light is beautiful. It’s beautiful on its own; peachy and blinding, it smells of the bread baking down the road and, faintly, of the oregano from the garden in your building’s courtyard. Even as the sun begins to set, it’s warm. It peeks between Yuuji’s fingers when he brings a hand to his hair, pushing it away from his forehead.

That, too, is beautiful. His face is pink with a combination of the sun and his own bashfulness, cheeks peaked with a grin as he looks at you, sat back on his heels.

“You can’t look at me like that,” he says, lowering his eyes. “I might get the wrong idea.”

In the past couple of weeks, a more solid routine has developed between you and Yuuji. The mornings are pretty much fair game for you since he has a majority of his coursework and activities then, but once he’s done, the game is on. Most of the days you just wander around, but sometimes you’ll visit nearby neighborhoods or beg him to take you to whatever tourist location was next on your list.

The early evenings, though, are a different story. Those, you spend largely in your apartment. In the lull between whatever you’d done and what you had prepared for after sunset, the two of you recharge. You cook together. You talk, you watch films and share music. You exist together. Today, you weren’t doing any of those things. No, today, you recharge by touching.

You reach for him, and his shoulders are firm and smooth under your hands. You hum, and the sound winds up into a little chuckle.

“What could that be?”

“I dunno, maybe that you like me,” he jokes. “That you think I’m pretty.”

The words sound strange when he says them like that: as if it’s not already apparent that not only do you like him—as if he’s not objectively pretty. You frown slightly and, when he comes in close enough, you move a hand to the back of his neck and meet his eyes.

“Yuuji, that’s not the wrong idea.”

He laughs and shakes his head, the tip of his nose catching on yours as he does. “Hey now, don’t tease me.”

“Yuuji,” you say, trying to be stern. You fail, of course, as his hands come under your back, pressing you up into him. “Yuuji, shut up, you’re pretty.”

The laughter continues, but it comes, this time, as a giggle into your neck, one you mirror into his ear, and, as much as you love him close—as you love him this close, especially—you nudge him away.

His upper body is strong and built, the rigid curves of his muscles padded over with the gentle plush of relaxation. His skin is like honey: rich and smooth save for the scars and freckles, little bumps and abrasions that quiver when you draw your fingers over them in lieu of asking where they’d come from. Those things don’t matter anyway, not right now.

Not when he’s right here and his breath is catching in his throat, when you can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited. When he chuckles, the sound is airy and sweet and buzzing with that stunning purity characteristic of all of Yuuji’s sounds.

He takes his lower lip between his teeth. “C’mere,” he says, and takes you against him more intentionally. It’s clear that he’s had enough of your leading.

You make a noise of surprise when he hoists you up into his lap. In this position—with him flat on his back, his thighs keeping you sitting up—you feel particularly vulnerable. That warm, pre-sunset afternoon glow illuminates you, sets you alight with fresh exposure. You’re still wearing your tee shirt, though; it’s the light itself. It’s the air that makes you feel so seen, so looked at.

Yuuji smooths his strong hands over your thighs where they lay, parted, at his sides. He takes his time guiding them up to your hips. He’s patient. It’s not in a restrained sort of way, either. It’s not as if he wants to be going any faster. He’s savoring you, watching your legs mold under his grip, and you can tell from the look of curiosity—of near bewilderment—on his face. His brows are furrowed, his lower lip tucked securely between his teeth, and the bridge of his nose is wrinkled with some combination of concentration and thought. Yuuji’s expression softens, though, when his eyes return to your face.

Your expression must be a hair too solemn for him because he brings a hand up and slides it to hold the curve of your jaw.

“What’s up?”

How can someone who touches you like this not stay?

There are so many platitudes about the “purposes” of peoples’ entrances into your life, and, ordinarily, you don’t give too much value to them. Since you’ve met Yuuji, though—or, more realistically, since you’ve started wanting to keep him—they’ve been floating around in your head, these platitudes. One of them says something along the lines of how it doesn’t matter how long someone stays in your life, and what matters is the “impact” they made on you during that time.

And you can’t help but think that’s kind of cruel. Maybe it’s selfish, but while the thought of saying goodbye at the end of the summer is painful, what really makes your chest ache is the idea of trying and failing to make it work from across the world. Of missing all of him but his voice. Until when?

But what is the point of asking Yuuji that now? What’s the point of making him wonder, too, when this pretty sun will meet its horizon? Because surely, he knows it will, too.

You shake your head, smile absently, and assure him: “Nothing.”

He chuckles through his nose then lets out a long breath and slides his hands down your arms. They slip gingerly under the hem when they reach it, and they’re rough on the soft skin of your waist. He watches your face as he touches you this time, and you can feel something—maybe gravity—begging his gaze to drop once again to his hands.

Being with Yuuji is not dreamlike, you decide. Rather, it is dreaming itself—floating miles above the Earth.

“Yuuji.”

“Hm?”

“What’re you thinking?”

He’s quiet for a moment longer, keeping his eyes low. Then, he smiles. It’s not his usual smile, though. It’s subdued, almost directed at himself rather than at anyone else.

“Mm…just thinking about how much I like you.”

In any other situation, you might laugh out of sheer awkwardness, but you can’t. Not when he’s looking at you like that: like you’re a mirage, a treasure. Instead, then, you fold over him. You close the gap between your faces and, babying his chin with your fingers, kiss him.

Talking, sorting your thoughts out into coherent sentences, is hard. It’s hard to tell him how much it means to hear him say that. Hard to explain how much you have to fight not to disbelieve it. Kissing, though? Kissing is easy.

He cradles you when you kiss him. Yuuji holds as much of you in his arms as he can and savors you. He kisses you simultaneously like you’re the only thing he’s ever sought after in his life and like you were dropped in his lap directly from heaven.

Like this, that bitter feeling in your throat is soothed. The doubt is quieted for a few moments longer.

NO PLEASURE WAITING FOR OTHERS, BUT AN EQUAL PLEASURE WAITS FOR YOU.

“So, how’s that video thingy going?”

Yuuji sets his chin on your shoulder, a welcome patch of warmth in the cool evening air.

There’s a field just beyond the farthest reaches of the neighborhood. Really, it’s a small few meters of grass between the town’s edge and the cliffside. The plants are unkempt, and they burst from the ground in wild, uneven bunches. You’ve eaten here, come to read your books or draw or write, but it’s better tonight because the stars are out—and because Yuuji suggested you bring a thicker blanket to put down.

“Pretty good, I think. I keep forgetting to check it and like, make sure I’ve actually filmed stuff, but, well, here. Let’s see…”

You bite your lip, scroll back to the beginning of the footage, and let it play. From there, the clips start. The app has put a song lightly over it, and the melody underscores the raw audio incidentally, and you rub the edge of your thumbnail with your index finger, paying close attention—both reminiscing and also carding through your mind to see if maybe a better song would fit this clip or that one.

As the montage draws closer to the current day, you open your mouth to say something to Yuuji but stop short. The next clip that plays is not one you remember recording. So is the next one, and the next.

They’re of you, these mystery clips. From afar, from above, from behind, from angles you could never get on your own: they follow you, cradle and savor you. You look ridiculous. You laugh. You’re clumsy and thinking and making weird faces, and it takes you a moment to realize it, but these, too, are curated.

The ones you’d picked, of course, were curated. They’re what you thought you’d want to remember, what you thought was beautiful, and what you wanted whoever watched this to see. But these are different.

“Yuuji…” You take your time looking over at him. “Did you take these?”

“Sure did.” He shifts so he can look at you better. After a few moments of silence, his expression shifts into one of discomfort. “Was, um, was that okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I mean…I just didn’t…I didn’t know, obviously, uh.” You sit up. Scooting, you angle your body to face him. “When—How did you take these? When did you have my phone?”

“Baby, you ask me to hold your stuff all the time,” he says, mouth quirking into another smile. He leans toward you, setting his fingers over yours and pressing them gently into the blanket. “Honestly, I was like, one hundred percent sure you knew I was doing it.”

You pout, then glance at your phone again. “I look like shit in this one,” you say, chuckling as you point to the clip.

He giggles. Then, shaking his head, says, “What? No you don’t. You never look like shit.”

“You’re just biased since you like me,” you tease.

“Nah, that’s not it…It’s more like, I’m biased because I’m in love with you.”

You always thought that the reactions to confessions you’d read about in books or seen in movies were dramatic. Surely, surely they see it coming. Surely they never feel as excellently blindsided as they act.

You learn just now that you have been wrong about that. You learn, too, that—more than anything else—you are so afraid of what this means.

“Yuuji…Yuuji…you’re not…”

He gives you a moment to elaborate, but when you don’t, he says, “I’m…not? Why not?” He pauses again, nose wrinkled a little in confusion.

You don’t have a good answer for him. How can you explain succinctly that, over these past couple of months, you’ve both convinced yourself that your relationship could never work out and fallen hopelessly in love with him? How can you explain that you’ve come to the conclusion that he is far too good—too special—to be asked to prolong some throwaway summer romance with a nobody like you?

“Why not?” he repeats. He wants you to tell him. His mind, you’re sure, is blank for options because he just can’t imagine them. Or maybe he can. “Are you um…are you worried I’m lying?” He looks down, mulling that over, then shakes his head. “Because…you know me, you know I don’t just…I wouldn’t tell you I love you if I didn’t mean it.” He bites the inside of his cheek, then meets your eyes fiercely.

Yuuji, while always gentle with you—as you’ve learned—feels intensely. His emotions burn, eat him up, swallow him, and he needs them to be known. The way he looks, the way he interacts with the world, is his way of putting up in lights: this is what you make me feel. He’s not the best with words most of the time, so he has to choose them carefully, wrap them in their proper exteriors.

After thinking for a second, trying once again to rationalize this racing, nerve-led pulse, you reply. “It’s easy to love someone in a place like this, but I promise you that you don’t. You don’t know me without these beautiful fucking hills or live music or delicious local coffee—”

He cuts you off. The words burst out of him, unable to be contained. “Or baking even though the sun is about to come up or talking about books in some random bookstore until the owner kicks us out or falling asleep in the middle of the afternoon because the light is so warm, and you’re so pretty especially when you lay your head on my chest like that…Yeah, it’s really easy to think I love you during all of those times.”

Yuuji takes a breath, then continues: “How did you know which sandwich I wanted without asking? And…and how did you know I’d love that movie before we even watched it? Or—Or that I would forget my bag if you hadn’t grabbed it? Listen, you might not know my birthday or my blood type or whatever, but…you know me. I think I know you, too. I mean…don’t you think so?”

He watches you for a second, and you have to look away from him because the visual breaks your heart. His shoulders have fallen uncharacteristically low: deflated. His brows are drawn, his mouth in a frown that tries so so hard to remain shallow.

“Yeah…”

“Then…” he says your name. Then he says it again. “What’s wrong?”

You stare at your hands in your lap. You stare so intensely, unwilling to lift your gaze because you know he’ll be there to match it with his amber eyes. You know they’ll be clear and swimming with adoration. Yuuji always looks like that—like you mapped the stars onto the vast expanse of sky above, like you’d done something remarkable by just being.

He says your name. “Look at me,” he breathes. “Please.” He sounds so sad. His voice is ordinarily so vibrant, his presence so large, but in this question, he has made himself small. Small enough to fit in your ear and beg.

When you do look at him, it’s everything you’d been afraid of. He’s pleading and earnest, and you’re in love with him.

“I’ll never see you again.”

“Why not?”

Why not, indeed. What’s stopping you aside from the ocean? Aside from the very boundary that separates this fantasy life from your very real one back home?

The capsules of our lives are broken by circumstance again and again—so why now can you not choose to break it yourself? To let its insides gush out onto the ground to be remade as you like?

Your vision is blurrier than before when Yuuji draws you back out of your head and into the world. He says your name, and the sound of it settles in your chest, begs you to curl around it, push it inside. Deeper, deeper, please.

Stay close to me.

“Why not?” you repeat back to him. His hands are gentle when they hold yours.

“Yeah,” he says. “Why won’t you see me again?”

“Yuuji…we met here,” you begin. Your voice is quiet, wavering. Your life will go back to normal, you explain. You have school and your friends, and you live far from this place. “And you do, too, Yuuji, and summer is going to end.”

A beat of silence passes. Then, Yuuji asks what you mean.

“Sure it is,” he adds. “Does…were you thinking this, uh, we’re just like…a summer thing?”

The unease in his voice makes you hesitate, but you nod. “I-I mean…not because I wanted it to be, but like…you know. How could it not be? People always say they’re going to stay in touch. That they’ll call or whatever—‘make it work,’ but they don’t. They don’t call, Yuuji.”

You ramble on along the same tangent line for a moment longer before a whimper, a small, pitiful sound, breaks through, and you cover your mouth with your hand.

The field is quiet save for your ragged breathing. A dog barks nearby. Yuuji takes you carefully by the shoulders.

“I want you. I wanna be with you in whatever way you’re willing to take me. But, baby, have you really been thinking that way the whole time?” He comes closer, takes your face in his hands, and he can’t contain his chuckle when he notices your shocked expression.

“I…I don’t know. I just…it…it didn’t really occur to me that you’d want—”

“I don’t know where home is for you, but I live in Tokyo, and I have a fully functioning cell phone. I’m gonna call you. I’m gonna call you so many damn times you have to block me.”

He grins. The hot weight in your throat lightens slightly. It slicks with the smallest coating of relief, and warm air fills your mouth, sneaking in between your lips, slightly parted in shock because did he say—?

“What?”

“I go to school in Tokyo.”

A cool rush of air passes between you. The grass tangles and untangles, ticking. The ocean laps at the rocky beach somewhere in the distance. Someone shouts, then, joined by another voice suddenly, laughs. They laugh together. Then, once again, as the sky further darkens, it is quiet.

“Of course, you do.”

Yuuji tosses his head back and beams at the sky. He looks at you next; he takes your face in both of his hands and kisses you. He kisses you over and over. He kisses you quick and hasty and like he’ll die if he doesn’t feel your mouth on his right this second.

Then, you make him pause, breathe, and he laughs. It’s melodic and clear, and it bubbles out of him in long, sweet tendrils. You hold his face in both of your hands and just let yourself look.

For the first time, the burning fog begins to clear. There is no heavy longing in your chest when you see him. In this moment, there is only hope, and it spreads to meet the horizon. It runs as far and wide as it can. It lets you stay here in this dream for now, fearlessly.

Through birth, life, death, burial, the means are provided, nothing is scanted,

Through angers, losses, ambition, ignorance, ennui, what you are picks its way.

jjk mlist | main mlist | long, long fic collab

DISCLAIMER! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. all characters in all works are depicted as 18+ regardless of the published canonical work unless otherwise stated.

all rights reserved © by kodzucafe. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

HEYYY I REALLY LOVE YOUR MOODBOARDS AND I WAS WONDERING IF YOU COULD DO ONE FOR YUJI PLEEEEEEEEEEEASE 😭🥺👉👈

Dating Yuji Itadori pt.2 <3

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ : since you asked so nicely 🥹

the bug collector

after an accident with a curse, yuji finds himself in a random small-scale hospital nowhere near his home. growing tired and sad over his bleak and lonely surroundings he wished that the days would go by faster. that is until a certain nursing assistant made him wish for the exact opposite

yuji x f! reader ☆ fluff, eventual smut(maybe), eventual angst(maybe), ☆ wc: 2.4k cw: mentions of blood/injuries a/n: AAHHH my first ever yuji fic tehe he is so completely growing on me au where yuji grew up and became a sorcerer but none of sukunas fingers were involved not beta read but nothing i write ever is </3

pt: 01 || ...

☆

yuji didnt always hate the smell of hospitals. they used to remind him of better times visiting his grandfather, bringing in flowers for the friendly nurses, and spending the evenings with his only remaining family. 

but as yuji lay on his own hospital bed, trapped to this small room lit by bright fluorescent lights, he began to hate it. he groaned while staring up at the ceiling tiles, reliving the events of the weeks prior. taking up a high-risk assignment was a stupid decision. shooing his assistant away out of kindness was, now that he was in this position, a very stupid decision. 

from what he was told by nurses and doctors alike, a pedestrian found him unconscious outside of an abandoned morgue and called the authorities. now he’s here, holed up in some random non-sorcerer regulated hospital, having to feign amnesia and pretend he had no idea how he ended up there. he rolled onto his side, staring out of the window as frustration washed over him. he felt weak and alone and wanted nothing more than to be out of here. 

a soft knock brought him out of his self-deprecating thoughts, turning over and sitting up as per routine of the last few weeks 

“come in,” his voice was hoarse but you could hear it from behind the door. having just started your nursing position job only a month ago, you were a bit nervous. having heard of the mysterious boy found bloodied and unconscious with no memory of what happened, you were nervous you would some how fuck it up. but with a tray in one hand, you steeled your nerves and opened the door. 

peaking your head in, you offered a smile to the tired looking pink-haired man covered in bandages. 

“hi, yuji is it?” you knew who he was, everyone on this floor and then some knew who he was. being the only person to come into this small hospital with such injuries in years, the nurses and doctors definitely talked. he nodded as you walked further into the room, feeling his eyes on you as you pulled out the table and set the tray down. “im y/n,” you held your hand out, waiting awkwardly for a few seconds before yuji shook it. he looked a wreck and you could see where the sense of mystery came from. you couldnt help being intrigued by him, wanting to know more about his story. “i brought you lunch, if you dont like it i could bring you a menu to choose from,” you spoke lightly, trying to portray yourself as friendly and welcoming as you could. 

it seemed to work, a smile tugging on the corners of yujis lips as he reached over to grab the cup of orange juice. 

“thank you,” he spoke softly, seeming unable to take his eyes off of you. you seemed different from the other healthcare professionals that passed through; more kind and personable. most importantly maybe, closer to his age. having been surrounded with a lot more experienced, older doctors, it felt nice to see someone around his age group. 

you nodded in response, your smile growing as you grew more comfortable. you grabbed your clipboard, trying not to seem too obvious as you assessed his behavior for anything youd need to report. you could see various scars scattered over his torso and arms down to where the thin blankets covered his lower half. glancing up from your clipboard in a way you hoped was subtle, you watched as he ate. he didnt seem to be picky, taking bites of everything on the tray. but once he caught your eyes you couldnt help but try to change the topic.

“your doctor said you were healing well,” you tried to keep an air of professionalism in your tone, but the way he was maintaining eye contact was making you a bit flustered. “so you should be able to go out to the common room if you wish- just let a nurse know,” yuji nodded along to your words, finding comfort in your voice over all the monotone hes been forced to endure. “im sure you already know this but we do have books and such available if you want anything to help the time go by. i know it must be hard being cooped up in here,”

yujis smile grew, you seemed so nice. you brought about a sort of gentle air that made him feel at ease her. you were the first one to come in here and not try to get him to ‘remember’ what landed him here. you genuinely seemed to care only about his well being, and it was, to put it in simply, refreshing. 

“i’ll be off then, if you need anything you can let me, or any of the other nurses know with the call button,” you motioned to the red button on the arm of his bed, growing shy over how he didnt bother to look, keeping his eyes on you. “enjoy your lunch,” with a final smile and short nod, you pivot on your heels, making your way to the door. 

“wait,” yuji spoke suddenly, causing you to turn around swiftly, a hint of alarm coursing through you before seeing he was still okay and didnt somehow collapse in on himself the minute your back was turned. you looked at each other with equally large eyes. yuji seemed to have spoken before he could think. but the truth was he did feel alone, having had no visitors and seeing no friendly faces. despite having spent less than an hour with you, he wanted to be able to feel this comfortable as long as he could. “could you… stay,” you nodded your head, attempting to give him a smile even though you were sure your confusion was painted on your face. 

“yes of course, is everything alright?” you scanned his face for anything alarming as you pulled up a chair to the side of his bed, sitting down next to the table. 

“yeah i guess i just… wanted to talk,” yuji didnt know where he was going with this. he didnt really know where he was going with this. he dreaded the words as soon as they lift his lips, becoming worried that the conversation would steer to you interrogating him about that night. you nodded slowly, trying to assess how he was feeling just from his expressions

“we can definitely talk,” you said encouragingly. you’ve read his files, you knew the other staff would use this opportunity to try to talk about the night he was brought in. but you felt that maybe he really just wanted some company, as far as you were away he hadnt had any visitors or even left his room. you felt sorry for him in a way, and wanted to keep the conversation light for his sake. “how about you lead the conversation,” you suggested, passing the ball to him in hopes that he’d understand you wouldnt be trying to get answers out of him. he was practically beaming at your offer and you knew in that moment that you you were right about him. your own grin grew, the air of comfort around yuji growing contagious. 

“well have you seen any of the human earthworm movies,” he felt like a total loser asking such a dumb question, but seeing your eyes twitch with a mix of interest and confusion before letting out a small chuckle made him feel a bit better about it. you shake your hair, the mood a stark change from your otherwise stressful workday.

“no i havent, but i take it you have,” you cocked your eyebrow jokingly, enjoying how easy it felt to talk to yuji. he nodded his head enthusiastically, before taking a bite out of his sandwich. 

“ive seen all of them- multipe times,” he spoke between bites, taking a swig of his juice before resting his hands on the table. noticing the hospital band around his wrist brought you back to reality. remembering how he had seemed to be all alone these past weeks and was finally getting the chance to talk to someone. you made a mental note to check up on him regularly during your shifts. no one should have to heal on their own. 

yuji had gone into explaining the series, using his hands to act out certain scenes. he seemed to really be enjoying the conversation, not showing any signs of pain despite all of the bandages adorning his arms and torso. 

unfortunately, yuji’s display was cut short with a short knock on the door. you shot up, worried that maybe you had been away for too long. but as another nurse came in, he was followed by two other men; one with snow white hair and a shit eating grin, the other with darker hair and a very stoic expression. 

“yuji you have visitors,” the nurse dead panned, seeming not too interested in the matter. with a quick comment about visiting hours to the two men he was out of the door. 

you saw yuji’s face light up, body twitching to get up and greet them. feeling a bit awkward about standing in the middle of their visiting time, you carefully pushed the chair back up against the wall and saw yourself out. 

“im glad youre getting better yuji,” you gave him a polite smile, feeling somewhat vulnerable as the white haired man stared at you intently from behind his sunglasses. you grabbed your clipboard, nodding to the men standing idly. “someone should be in here to bring you dinner,” yuji watched as you stiffly nodded your head towards megumi and gojo, waiting for you to close the door behind you before anyone said anything.

“so who was she,”

“what took you guys so long,” yuji quickly asked, ignoring gojos question entirely. he watched as gojo smiled, grabbing a chair, and pulling it up where you were previously sitting. 

“well since you had so kindly sent the assistant who accompanied you on your assignment on their merry way, it took a while for anyone to raise any alarms. and then we had to locate what hospital you were in,” 

yuji listened intently, glancing over at megumi who was leaning against the wall. he thought of the assistant, hoping they didnt get into too much trouble for just listening to him. 

“we tried to visit a little over a week ago but they said you werent able to take any visitors,” megumi spoke in a monotone voice, scanning yujis current state. yuji was shocked to hear they tried to visit, this being the first time there was any mention of anyone trying to visit. too distracted by his thoughts, yuji didnt even notice gojo swiping his sandwich until he spoke up around a mouth full of food.

“we could have you transferred to a more uh sorcerer friendly hospital if ya want,” gojo waved the sandwich around as he talked, dropping it back on the plate. “this food sucks,” he commented, exaggerating sounds of disgusting. 

“no its okay-,” it seemed like yuji was the most shocked at his own words. not entirely sure why that had come out of his mouth when he had dreaded every second being here. but then he remembered you. he knew he could just be emotional, you having been the one shred of silver lining in this dismal place. but he wanted to stay. he wanted to talk to you again. plus, he was sure he would be getting out soon anyway, whats wrong with spending the next few days there. 

gojo glanced at megumi before looking back at yuji, his smile growing all the more obnoxious. 

“is it because of that pretty nurse?” 

yuji threw a balled up napkin at gojo, trying to distract the two of them from the blush he was certain was now warming up his cheeks. shaking his head, he fiddled with his hospital bracelet, feeling a bit uncomfortable. 

“no its not,” he tried to sound as confident and truthful as possible, but the snort coming from megumi told him he failed. “i’ve just been here the whole time, seems stupid to leave now when i’ll probably be out in a couple days,” he trailed off, words turning into a muttered mess. he knew he sounded stupid, before he even knew you existed he spent his days counting ceiling tiles and wondering when the hell he would be able to get out. “i’ll just wait it out,” he added, the silence and intensity of stares thrown his way making him feel like he was in some sort of spotlight. “so uh what happened to that curse?” he quickly asked, desperately wanting to change topics. 

“i exorcized it,” megumi said, eyes squinting just a tad as he looked yuji up and down. “are you sure you dont just want to stay because of that nurse?” gojo’s laughs filled the room while yuji buried his head in his hands.

“oh my god,” his voice was muffled by his palms as he tried to get them to stop asking embarrassing question with the sheer power of his mind. sadly for yuji, it did not work. gojo continued to tease him around mouthfuls of the very food he said was disgusting. “i didnt want you guys to come here just to eat my food and embarrass me,” yuji groaned into his hands, praying this whole thing would end

“alright alright,” gojo raised his arms in surrender, standing up and pushing the chair back. “we’ll leave so you can get some rest and definitely not so you can go back to talking to your hospital crush,” without waiting for yuji to answer, gojo was walking out, waving his hand and obnoxiously stomping. megumi stayed behind for a few moments, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. 

“get better soon,” yuji smiled back at him, megumis nice words making him think the utter torture was over. “so you can take her out on a proper date,” megumi quickly shut the door behind him, not waiting for yujis protests. 

once he was alone, yuji’s mind wandered to you again. and as he made himself as comfortable as he could on a hospital bed, he hoped he would be able to see you again soon. he felt childish once he really thought about it. but he liked talking to you and whether or not it was his foolish confidence, he thought that maybe if you met under different circumstances, the two of you could at least be friends.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very much appreciated <3

I’m just a kid (and life is a nightmare)

dad!Nanami & kid!Yuji

commissioned this amazing piece from @yuutaguro for chapter two of my teen papamin au in which Nanami reluctantly adopts Yuji right after graduating from Jujutsu High and leaving the sorcerer world! [chapters 1-3 on ao3]

Everything had been going so well. Nanami would begin his office job on Monday, the same day that Yuji’s school year started. He had just taken Yuji to buy his uniform, and a shiny new backpack. It wasn’t until he was going back over the supply list and dress code that the trouble started.

“Yuji, you have to cut your hair! It’s not me, it’s the school’s stupid rule.”

Yuji stuck out his tongue and ran around the table, avoiding Nanami’s grasp. “Don’t wanna!” He shouted back.

“I know! But you have to anyway!” Nanami chased him back around the other side. “It’s not up for debate!”

“DON’T WANNA!”

Nanami stopped running and covered his face with his hands, taking deep breaths. The kid was driving him crazy. Hell, he agreed with him. He probably would’ve been just as pissed about cutting his hair at that age, but damn if it wasn’t frustrating on the other side. “Look, I’m sorry the dress code is annoying. I am! But you’re gonna get in trouble if we don’t tame that pink mop on your head!” God, I sound like my dad, Nanami thought glumly.

Yuji flung himself around the corner and peeked out. “But I don’t wanna , Nanaminnn!!”

“I know.” He gave a long sigh. “Can you tell me why?”

“I wanna look like you!”

“You- what?” Nanami was thrown for a loop. Yuji could barely see through his hair at this point, it looked nothing like… oh no. Nanami skidded into the bathroom and stared in the mirror. Yuji came hurtling behind him, just barely able to peek over the countertop on his tiptoes.

“See, Nanamin? We’re the same!”

The kid had a point. Nanami stared at his face, noticing for the first time that he had let his hair get quite long. It just didn’t seem like a priority, not after…well. He shook his head, tossing the long shock of blonde hair out of his eyes. Yuji peered up at him, looking annoyingly smug.

“See, you see?”

“Yeah, I see, Yuji.” Maybe it was time that he matured his look. At least a little. “I guess I have a mop up there too, huh?” He couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Yuji imitated his nod. “I have an idea for how we can fix this.”

Everyone in the barbershop couldn’t help but smile at the strange pair that walked in, the serious, blonde teenager and his hyper, pink-haired companion.

“Awww, is this your little brother?” The receptionist cooed.

“Uh, no, this is my…Yuji.” Nanami cringed at himself, but the kid holding his hand beamed.

“Yeah, I’m his Yuji!!”

The two boys politely requested the same haircut, and Nanami went first to reassure Yuji. “See? Doesn’t hurt at all, okay? Bet you’re gonna look cooler than me.”

Nanami watched himself in the mirror as the barber went to work. It wasn’t like he was attached to his look or anything, at least he told himself so. But change was weird. By the end of it, he could see more of his forehead than he had in years. He looked older, like a salaryman.

“What do you think, kid?” Yuji looked at him thoughtfully.

“You look like a grown-up, Nanamin!”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” He laughed. “Your turn, Yuji. Think you can be brave?”

“Yeahh! Brave like you!” Yuji slid into the seat and reached out a hand, which Nanami held tight.

By the end of it, Nanami’s hair was slicked into a deep side part, with a few stubborn strands escaping into his eyes. Yuji’s hair still spung up at all angles. It suited him, though. And more importantly, fit the school dress code.

Nanami took Yuji out to their favorite bakery on the way home as a reward. The boy eagerly gobbled down a pink-frosted doughnut with extra sprinkles while Nanami sipped coffee with a slice of lemon cake. “We did well today, huh kid?”

Yuji nodded proudly with a faceful of frosting. “Yeah, we did great! And we still look the same as each other!”

Nanami squinted at him, but couldn’t bring himself to burst the kid’s bubble. “We sure do. Maybe we could switch places, and you could go into work for me!”

Yuji doubled over with laughter. “No way Nanamin!”

“You sure? I could go to school for you, do all your homework…” he teased.

Yuji appeared to be considering the offer, then shook his head, still giggling. “Nuh-uh!”

“Ah, well.” Nanami pretended to sigh. “Worth a try.”

I’m just a kid (and life is a nightmare)

Dad!Nanami and Kid!Yuji

another installment of my teen papamin series! in which yuji gets into trouble at school

[chapter 2, the haircut, on tumblr] [ch 1-3 on ao3]

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Nanami fought to keep his face neutral, but he was furious. What had Yuji been thinking? This was exactly the kind of thing that could call his care-taking into question, get some nosy administrator suspicious about Yuji and his conspicuously teenage guardian.

He paused outside the headmaster’s office and smoothed his hair down, trying to look as responsible as possible. With a deep breath, he pushed open the door and bowed.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry for Yuji’s behavior. There’s no excuse, and I will discipline him appropriately.” He gave this speech to the ground, then straightened up warily. A shock of pink hair peeked over the chair in front of the headmaster’s desk, tiny feet kicking dismally.

The headmaster steepled his thick fingers. “I would hope so. Fighting of any kind is not tolerated, let alone to the degree that your,” he frowned over his glasses, “son here has exhibited.” The tuft of Yuji’s head sunk lower.

“Of course, sir. I can assure you that this is very unusual for him.” Nanami tapped his fingers on his briefcase. “Given that, might I ask what triggered this…altercation?”

“Does it matter?” The headmaster snapped.

“I believe so, yes. Did someone provoke Yuji? Was he defending himself?”

The headmaster scowled. “Itadori threw the first punch, if that’s what you’re asking. The first and last, might I add. His classmate lost two teeth.” The pink hair disappeared entirely, the little legs pulled up to hide in the chair.

“Well they are children, sir. Those teeth are meant to come out,” Nanami deadpanned.

The headmaster stood up from his desk, which added very little to his overall height. “Are you making light of this, young man? I would advise against it. We take delinquency very seriously here.”

Nanami flinched at the word, unable to reconcile it to the sweet boy in his care. “Of course not. I will ensure that this never happens again.”

“See that you do that. You’re dismissed, Itadori.” The headmaster glowered as Yuji clambered out of the desk chair and shuffled behind Nanami, clutching at his belt loops. Nanami inclined his head again to the headmaster, the bow a little shallower this time, and hustled Yuji out of the office.

It wasn’t until they were safely outside school property that Nanami sighed and knelt down next to Yuji. “Wanna tell me what happened back there, kid? You punched someone? You know better than that.”

Yuji’s lip trembled. “I’m sorry, Nanamin. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble…” Nanami put a heavy hand on the kid’s head.

“I know, I know. I’m not in trouble, okay? But I need to know what happened.” His lips thinned into a hard line. “Did someone hurt you?” Yuji shook his head. “Did someone threaten you?” Another head shake. He looked down at the kid, his heart squeezing painfully as he took in his wide, tearful eyes. “You don’t wanna talk about it now, huh?” A tight nod. “I understand. Let’s go home, okay?” Yuji slipped his hand into Nanami’s as they walked back together.

Back at the apartment, Nanami installed Yuji on the couch with cartoons. He popped his head out of the kitchen every so often to make sure the kid was still glued to the television as he prepped sandwiches for the two of them. He carried both plates out to the living room, then tilted his head, teasing a little to test the waters. “Is this seat taken?”

Yuji giggled and scooted over. “Nope!”

Nanami smiled at him and sat down, his shoulder nudging Yuji’s much smaller one. “Thanks, kid. Made this special for ya.” It was the same exact sandwich they always had. Though to be fair, he had made it with extra care this time, hoping it would magically draw the truth out of the boy.

They ate in comfortable silence, the brightly colored cartoons reflected on their faces. When the sandwiches were gone and Nanami had washed up, he cautiously settled back down next to Yuji, waiting for him to break the silence.

He was rewarded after a few moments as Yuji hid his face behind a pillow and finally spoke up. “I can tell you now, but I gotta stay back here.”

Nanami nodded, remembering how uncomfortable he was with confrontation at that age. Clearly something had upset Yuji badly, and he just wanted to give the kid a safe place to share it. “That’s okay.”

Silence from behind the pillow. “Nanamin…don’t look at me ‘kay?”

Looking quite serious, Nanami grabbed another pillow and held it over his own face. “Look, Yuji. I can’t see you, promise.”

Yuji peeked over the pillow and giggled a little, his voice shaky. “Okay. Someone…someone said something bad.”

“They said something bad? Something mean about you?”

“No-oo, not mean about me.”

Nanami furrowed his brows behind the pillow. “I see. Were you, maybe sticking up for somebody else?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well, that’s a good thing to do, Yuji. But you can’t solve problems with violence. Well, not most of them anyway.” Nanami’s shoulders fell. Who was he to lecture a kid about violence? That was the only way he had solved anything for the last few years. “Just because someone says or even does something mean, that doesn’t give you the right to hurt them.” He sighed. “Next time, you could stick up for the other kid with your words, you know?”

Yuji was quiet for a while. Then, softly, “Wasn’t another kid.”

“Hmm?”

Yuji’s muffled voice was barely a whisper. “It was you, Nanamin.” Nanami suddenly felt two short arms flung around his waist, their pillows shoved together as Yuji reached for him. “They said you’re not my-” he sobbed, “not my real dad!”

Nanami’s face crumpled at the same time Yuji’s did. He tried to regain his composure behind the pillow, not wanting Yuji to see how much it affected him. As sweet as the gesture was, he couldn’t have the kid go around knocking out teeth any time someone gave him a hard time.

“Ah, Yuji…” Nanami pulled him into a tight hug. “All that matters is what you believe.” He gently tugged the pillow down, meeting the boy’s stricken eyes. “If you feel like I’m your-” the label stuck in Nanami’s throat, and he swallowed it down. “If you feel that way about me, no one else can take that away.”

Yuji wriggled out from behind the shield of his pillow and into Nanami’s arms. He hid his face in the older man’s shirt, sniffling. “I didn’t mean to hurt him, promise!”

“I know.” Nanami ran a soothing hand down his back. “But you’re a strong kiddo. Stronger than most people, you know? Being powerful means being careful. We don’t get to make as many mistakes.”

Yuji nodded wetly, snotty tears collecting on Nanami’s work shirt. “Nanamin, do you- do you feel that way about me? You’re my dad, right?” The vulnerability on his face shattered Nanami. He could see the hope and the tight-coiled dread that hung heavy on Yuji’s little shoulders. He mustered the courage to answer, not wanting to add any hurt to the pile that was already too big for the kid’s age.

“Of course I do. It’s…it’s an honor to be your dad, Yuji. If- if you'd like me to be.”

Yuji didn’t say anything, but Nanami felt the kid burrow into his chest. He held him close.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

an: tysm for the love on my last post of this au!<3

road tripping with the jjk men

Satoru Gojo is a passenger princess. His bag is full of snacks, with extras in the glove compartment just in case. He sings along with you to 2000s pop and falls asleep with his mouth open, snoring in a seat that’s pushed all the way back to make room for his long-ass legs.

Suguru Geto drives and asks you to put on the custom playlist he’s made for the trip. He sings along to every song, windows down, and needs you to lean over and tie up his hair when it gets messy from the wind. He claims he can drive for hours without getting tired, but gets the strongest energy drink he can find when you stop for gas.

Kento Nanami downloads a bunch of podcasts for the trip, but you both get bored after an hour and you queue up his emo kid playlist from 2008. You both sing at the top of your lungs, and he keeps one hand on your thigh for the rest of the drive, smiling at you as he squints over his green-tinted sunglasses.

Hiromi Higuruma is locked in. His GPS is set, gas tank is full, tires all topped off with air. You don’t have to think about anything except getting comfy in the passenger seat. Listens to audiobooks. When you get bored, you tease him with dirty talk until he’s flustered and threatening to pull over, but you know he loves it.

Choso Kamo convinces you to let him drive after the first few hours because he feels bad making you do it all. He wants to fight anyone who dares to honk at you. If it starts raining, he’s white-knuckling the steering wheel and going 20mph under the speed limit. Honestly you’re not even sure how he has a license…

Toji Fushiguro smokes out the window and asks for road head fifteen minutes into the trip. You roll your eyes and don’t oblige, but you do let him reach over and feel you up as he steers with one hand. He lets you pick the music but asks for gas money. Definitely speeds, but you feel very safe when he drives.

Bonus:

Yuji would love stopping at every weird roadside attraction. World’s biggest ball of yarn? He’s there taking selfies and buying you a souvenir.

Megumi seems like he’d drive, but he actually prefers when you take the wheel so he can hold your hand and DJ.

This was literally everything to me cuz I’m actually am shorter with big tits I was feeling all her feels fr. So this turned out so sweet for me💕

my type?

4.3 K words

summary - Yuuji Itadori is a total knockout boyfriend - the only hitch? You’re nothing like his usual type of woman, and it’s making you unsure.

warnings - 18+!, femreader with jugs and vagene, p in v sex, unrealistic car sex, specifically stated that reader is non-tall with big tits, dumbification for both parties, squirting, non-curse AU where sukuna and yuuji are brother-roommates, unprotected sex

Itadori, Yuuji was an amazing boyfriend - something straight out of a top-selling shoujo manga.

Faithful and doting and affectionate. He handed over his hoodies the moment you mentioned an unpleasant breeze, he proudly held your hand in public, and he boasted about the very act of dating you to anyone with ears. But even those displays felt backhanded, the deeper you dug into your own mind. You had no real reason to complain about the situation.

And you especially had no reason when the cause behind your complaints would be so shallow.

You had an ass in the same way that everybody else did, but nothing comparable to the pin-up poster Yuuji tore down when you two started dating. Or his celebrity fascination, Jennifer Lawrence (which also mysteriously stopped being mentioned when you two started dating).

Rather, your body was much more endowed in ways that made Nobara tease as you passed lingerie stores with hot pink lighting and black walls and heavy busts plastered in the windows. She’d snag you by the sleeve and point, just to watch how you scoff and look away.

Yuuji pointedly ignores those stores. He ignores everything in relation to them.

You’d picked this shirt just for tonight. It dips low into your cleavage, just tight enough to still push up the tender meat of your breasts. Not to mention the color - deep crimson, Yuuji’s favorite. Well, at least the closest you’ll ever get to a favorite color with his indecisive nature.

Yuuji sits across from you at the scratched table. When his eyes aren’t scavenging the conveyor belt for small, shiny, colored plates serving anything that may catch his eye, they’re on your face. And only your face.

Normally something you’d absolutely cheer over - if this were a first date, but the fact is that this is one of many dates. And after so many dates that you can’t count anymore, you’re starting to want Yuuji’s eyes to drift.

You want him to look and you want to watch him sweat and go red. You’re starting to need it.

The need only grows more apparent mere days later.

Yuuji keeps his hands stubbornly on your hips, barely making an imprint from outside your clothes. But you choose not to make a fuss since he’s otherwise fully engrossed with keeping his lips pasted to yours. Your hands are sweaty and hot on Yuuji’s cheeks, you just know they are, but he doesn’t seem to mind when he lets you hold him close and grind on him.

Yet his palms are stiff against you. They don’t feel warm or cold or clammy or moist. They just… are. He chokes back every groan and huff and you almost feel embarrassed to be letting out hitches and breathy moans so freely in comparison.

Puffing your chest out, you can feel your breasts pillowing against Yuuji and you’re hoping to tempt him to move his hands up. Under your shirt and bra with bare skin on bare skin. The idea makes you mewl, dragging your hips harder against his and further pushing out your tits for him to grope.

And suddenly, his stiff hands are picking you up off his lap, sliding you beside him on your couch. Yuuji grins, standing and swiping his hands down the legs of his sweatpants before planting a kiss on your forehead, “Sorry, gotta pee.”

“Oversharing!” you call after his retreating form.

When Yuuji returns, he sits down and rewinds the movie you two had put on earlier. He frowns and murmurs about how much the both of you missed. When you don’t turn back to the TV immediately, Yuuji smiles again and kisses your cheek.

Your gut twists unpleasantly.

And that need festers into utter desperation by just the next afternoon.

“Hey, Yuuji,” you come up from behind your boyfriend, arms dangling over the back of his couch and framing his shoulders. You place your chin on his head, staring at the intense cooking competition he’s watching, “So, I know I just got here… but! I’ve got a small, teensy errand to run.”

“Mhm?” he tilts his head back to meet your eyes, “Want me to go with you?”

His offer has you nodding, trying to smother down the bright simper he threatens to drag out of you, “Yeah, if you’re not busy.”

Sucking in air noisily through his teeth, Yuuji gestures out to the show he lazes in front of, “I dunno, babe, I am watching TV.”

“Very funny,” you back away from his couch, already heading to the door to tug your shoes on, “Just saying, you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to,” Yuuji always wants to come with, you like that about him, “Just getting some new bras.”

Your current ones are fine, but maybe a stuffy changing room is that nudge he needs.

“Oh,” your boyfriend pauses, eyes widening, “Uh. You might want to take Kugisaki for that, she’d know more than me,” he can’t even look at you, “I’m not really the kinda person you’d want around for that.”

You almost ask what he means by that, but the rejection has fried your brain to a gray, crunchy crisp. The kind of fry that looks like it could flake apart with a harsh jab. Again, that terrible, awful knotting in your stomach returns, but you carry on. Because if you claimed to no longer need this errand ran, then he might know what your scheme was - and that was far worse than whatever this hell was.

So you nod slowly and meekly call out that you love him before exiting the door. He says he loves you more.

You really wish you asked what he meant.

Finally, desperation comes to a head when you meet Yuuji’s friend - Todo, Aoi.

Todo, Aoi, who stares at you - eyes narrow as he judges each wrinkle in your clothes and jitter of your muscles - then turns to Yuuji, and asks point-blank, “Did you lie about your type, then, brother?”

Yuuji rips the hand in his pocket out and cuts it across his neck in a slicing motion, mouthing a couple of rude ‘shut up’s. You lean into Yuuji’s side, squeezing the hand he lays in yours tighter. It isn’t sweaty. And it isn’t very warm, either.

Aoi doesn’t seem very upset at the idea, “I’m happy you’re happy,” you look down at your shoes when he glances back over at you, “I was excited when I thought we had the same type.”

No, you weren’t very tall. And no, your butt wasn’t exceptionally big. You fell on the more mediocre sides of those categories, the thing you excelled in (what you thought most guys were thrilled over) was having a large bust.

“Dude!” Yuuji hits Aoi in the shoulder. Hard, “Shut up!”

He squeezes your hand so tight you think it might bruise.

“Sorry, brother,” Aoi, you were warned, was extremely unusual - little to no boundaries and almost inept at social interactions outside of fighting. He does seem sympathetic enough, turning to you, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

It’s all so sickening. How you wish Yuuji would hurry up and show interest in shallow things. How you place personal esteem on this whole fiasco. How right Aoi is. How badly you’re letting everything affect you.

The ringing in your ears, for example. The way you no longer think you can stomach whatever Aoi was cooking tonight. The shortness of your breath.

You try to push it down. Tonight is supposed to be fun.

Yuuji shoves his friend, much more lightheartedly than his previous blow, and goes to kiss your forehead - but hesitates. His smile is uneven, “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” he squeezes your hand, “I love you,” then, apologetically, he smooths his thumb over the sore spots where he clenched your hand, “I love you so much.”

And you know that. You know it like you know your favorite movie.

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

He loves you, you know that - what you don’t know, is if he wants you. Doesn’t he get sweaty palms like you? Doesn’t he feel his intestines tie into bunches of little knots like you? Doesn’t he get all hot in the face like you? Doesn’t he want you like you want him?

It’s humiliating to imagine that he doesn’t, and the mere idea makes you so nauseous you think you might hurl at this very moment.

Maybe your boyfriend just doesn’t find you as attractive as you want him to.

Maybe you should give up this repetitive scheme.

The car is quiet, unbearably so. Your knees are angled away from Yuuji defiantly, legs pushed to the far side of your seat so it’d be a hassle for him to reach out and hold your thigh. You used to think it meant something when he did that, but now it seems as though he’s doing it out of duty. Like holding the door for someone behind you. Or offering your seat on the bus to elderly passengers. Simple acts of simple kindness.

The most basic peacekeeping, if anything.

Yuuji peeks at you without turning away from the road, hands tightening around the steering wheel, “Are you upset?”

You could be snippy. You could even opt to not respond.

But you do neither, “Yeah.”

He sighs through his nose, “Seriously, don’t listen to Todo. He doesn’t know anything.”

Now, you’re a little snippy. To point out that Aoi’s being stupid isn’t uncalled for, but to claim he doesn’t know exactly what stupid shit he’s saying is.

“He has a point.”

“Huh?” Yuuji turns his head fully to look at you, something he only does because the quiet backroad home is empty, “What’re you talking about?”

Only flickering, crooked, rusty street lamps are witness to your impending breakdown. Your boyfriend returns his stare to the road. Crickets sing outside and the wind flattens over long grass that shines under moonlight.

“Yuuji,” sinking into your seat, you ignore his eyes, “You can’t seriously say you have no idea,” he’s quiet, lips pressed thinly, “Since we met, practically everybody has known your type. I knew you had a type! It was a shock to our friends when we got together! And now that we are…”

Pulling off into the grassy plain lining your way home, Yuuji slips the key from the ignition and unclicks his seatbelt to really examine you. His eyes scramble over you, every part the sensitive, concerned boyfriend you know and treasure. He pouts, but it’s in earnest; hurt simply because you’re hurt.

“And now that we are?”

“Why don’t you look at me?”

“I look at you!” he rubs the back of his neck, now quirking a brow at you, “I look at you all the time.”

“No,” you whine like a petulant child, hands coming up to cover your face, “It’s different!”

Aoi’s words just won’t stop creeping up your spine. Yuuji setting you aside on the couch. Yuuji insisting that you bring Nobara to a lingerie store instead of him. He was lying to someone, right? Was it to Aoi or you?

But everybody had seen that poster, and everybody could hear him declare his preferences.

“It’s way different,” you’re so humiliated you’re nauseous, your voice wobbles.

Yuuji tenderly takes your wrists, dragging down your hands. His smile is squiggly, brows high to his forehead, “Talk to me, pretty girl. You want me to look at you?” you nod, “So tell me what you mean by that.”

You almost hate how soft his voice is. It makes it so hard to be upset.

“I’m not your type,” your eyes trail the way Yuuji’s fingers dance around yours, “And every time I try to… you know, get you to think of me as something other than just cute or pretty - you turn me down. I feel like you don’t find me attractive.”

“Oh, like sexually?”

“Mhmm,” you nod glumly. When he’s quiet for just a couple of seconds too long, you ask, “Did you know what I was trying to do?”

“Kind of,” Yuuji’s cheeks are growing red, eyes now abandoning your entwined hands to stare out the windshield, “I do find you attractive - that’s a little bit of the problem.”

“What?”

He sucks in a breath sharply, engulfing your hands completely with his and squeezing (much more mindfully this time), “I’m crazy about you,” he can tell you don’t believe him, “It scares me a little,” he pulls his hands away and cradles his own over his lap, “I’m worried that if I give in, I’ll scare you off… like I’m too eager or something.”

“Yuuji!” you adjust in your seat, moving sideways and finally letting your knees face your boyfriend again, “You wouldn’t scare me off by being eager about my body! That’s a good thing, right? When we’re both into each other, that’s good!”

“No, I mean,” he’s gone rouge all the way up to his ears now, a fire bright in his chest, “I want you so bad it makes me feel like all my skin’s burning. My hands get all gross and sweaty so I have to wipe them on my pants, and- and I can’t think straight,” he’s still not looking at you, but the way he’s pressing his arms down on his crotch tells you he wants to, “Even now, I think I’m going crazy just imagining you…”

You sit up on your knees, leaning over the center console just to watch your boy squirm at the invasion of space, “Imagining me?” he nods shakily, “Imagining me how?”

He whines, turning his head and pressing his scorching face into your neck, “You know how.”

“Come on, pretty boy,” you kneel over the console entirely, squeezing behind the wheel to settle on Yuuji’s lap - slapping away his hands from the growing tent in his baggy pants, “Entertain me, please?”

“Imagining you under me, on me, between my legs,” his hands fly to your hips, palms slipping up under your shirt, and, God, his palms are sweaty, “Any way you’ll have me,” you cup his cheeks and press messy kisses to his lips. Yuuji’s hands roam further up your shirt, fingertips teasing under the cups of your bra, “Any way I can see your tits.”

“I thought you were more into ass,” your bravado falls under his admission, suddenly bashful.

Yuuji closes his eyes, swallowing hard while pushing his hands under your bra, he can feel his heartbeat all the way at the back of his throat. His rough palms cupping the soft, fleshy fat on your chest, “As if that matters,” his brows knit, hips subconsciously jerking up into yours, “I’m a horny guy: my hot girlfriend has big boobs, and I’m obsessed with her big boobs.”

“Just ‘cuz you’re horny?” you tease, grinding down on the bump of his hard cock. His loose pants let him spring up under your skirt, knocking into your panty-clad cunt.

“Nah,” his eyes flutter open, sweaty palms moving around your back and clumsily unhooking your troublesome bra. It takes him three tries, “I like every part of you all the time…” the tip of his tongue parts his lips in hard concentration, “Your whole body makes me feel like I’m full of bugs.”

“‘Full of bugs?!’” you snort, lifting your arms so Yuuji can yank off your shirt and bra in one ungraceful motion.

“In a good way,” he promises, eyes locked on your heaving chest. You can hear the thick breaths he struggles through, “‘m so nervous and horny at the same time, it feels like bugs in my stomach.”

“What’re you nervous for?”

“‘Cuz I wanna make you cum, but I’m worried I’ll cream my pants before we even get to it,” he finally looks into your eyes, he smiles at you with flaming cheeks and palms at your breasts, “It was so hard making sure I kept it together… Been jerkin’ off every night thinking of you - ask Sukuna, he’ll tell you. It’s been embarrassing.”

“Augh, Yuuji!”

“It’s true!”

It makes your palms hot and sweaty, the image of him so desperate. All for you.

“Hm,” you croon, grinding against your boyfriend’s cock, back arching to press your tits closer to his face, “Yuuji...”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, Yuuji sucks one of your nipples between his lips and laves it with his tongue. He bucks up against your wetting panties. Pulling away from your nipple with a soft pop, Yuuji stares up at you with another earnest, flustered pout, “Can you take it out for me?”

As if you could forget what he’s talking about, he humps you again.

“Please, take it out,” he cranes his neck to run his warm, wet tongue over your other, unattended nipple.

“Aw,” you didn’t think seeing your big, energetic boyfriend act so pathetic would set you on fire the way it does. One of your hands stretches down between you and Yuuji, wrangling down his pants with him lifting his hips to help, “Do you want me to play with your cock?”

He hums against your breast, nodding eagerly, “Yuh- yeah- ! Please?”

Your fingers wrap around the warm softness of Yuuji’s erection, thumb playfully nudging his mushroom tip’s slit. He throws his head back, ricocheting against the car seat headrest with a throaty groan.

Giggling, you lean in to kiss the sensitive spot just under Yuuji’s jaw, hand still working up Yuuji’s weeping cock, “Having a good time, honey?”

“Uh-huh,” he unwinds his arms around you to grasp your hips once again, fingers bruising at your sides, “Feels so good - so, so good…”

“Who’s making you feel good, Yuuji?”

“You!” his right thigh twitches under you, “You, you - ‘s always you!”

“Always me?”

His chuckle breaks off into a slack-jawed moan, “Said I jerk off to you every night, didn’t I?” he reaches for your wrist, “Wait, wait!”

“Were you…?” so soon?

“I told you!” now he’s the one whining like a petulant brat, “I don’t wanna cum before you, but you just make it so hard.”

So soon.

Your thighs squish around Yuuji’s, hips grinding on nothing - desperate in search of friction.

“You like that?” he sounds breathless, staring at you as you watch his bobbing cock. All red at the head and straining against your hand, “You’re so mean, babe.”

“I like it a lot,” you sit up, lips finding Yuuji’s drool-slicked ones, “I like knowing I have that effect on you.”

“Since I first saw you, I think,” he admits, hands skimming under your skirt now, “Can I… ?”

You nod, holding tightly to Yuuji’s shoulders while you lean on one leg. You could, theoretically, drag your panties down your lifted leg by yourself - but Yuuji stubbornly joins your hand all the way down to your ankle.

Before trying to slip inside you, Yuuji cups your hot sex. His chest tightens, middle finger shakily tracing along your soaked cunt. Tongue lolling back out of his mouth, Yuuji tucks your nipple back into his mouth when he inserts his finger in your hole. Trying to keep his mind as busy as possible so he can stop thinking about how badly he needs to bury himself inside you.

“Yuuji,” your breathing is ragged, already lowering yourself before he even pulls his finger out of you, “I’m so past ready.”

“You’re so wet,” he mumbles against the swell of your tit, teasing his teeth against the full flesh, “I dunno if I’ll be able to get in…” he chuckles to himself, lightheaded when he taps the head of his cock against your clit, “Might slip right out, huh?”

“Stop teasing,” you cradle Yuuji’s head to your chest, arms thrown around his neck, “You’re the mean one.”

“I know, I know,” he lowers in his seat, pressing himself finally, finally, finally inside your pussy. Your tits press even closer to his face when you gasp at the stretch, “I’ve been ignoring my poor pretty girl this whole time,” he says it so mournfully, so heartfelt, “So selfish, just thinking of my pride - I didn’t even wonder how my girl felt.”

“Ahh, Yuuji,” you moan, piercing your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I’m sorry, pretty girl,” he pushes down on your hips, lowering you on his stiff cock until your thighs are flush with his soft pants. They’re a little wet. You don’t care much, and you don’t think Yuuji does either right now. He screws up into you, one arm tight around your waist to pull you down into his thrusts and the other hand finding your slippery clit, “I’m so sorry, angel, can you forgive me?”

“Ah, ah, ah,” his fingers work quick circles on your nerves as he fucks you and you’re barely able to scramble together the words (let alone carry those words out in a sensible form), “Yes - ah! - yes, Yuuji!”

There’s something in the way he twists his hips this time because his cock beats into a particular spot that sends white sparks through your veins. You snap back, head hanging and forcing your bouncing tits directly in Yuuji’s face. Before you can even begin to beg, your big, energetic (and maybe a little pathetic) boyfriend is already nodding to himself.

“Right there, angel?” his fingers leave your clit to press down on where his cock batters your insides, “Is that it? Want me right here?”

“Please!” you squeal, thighs quivering and lungs fresh out of air.

“Uh-huh,” he keeps nodding, head too empty to realize he doesn’t need to anymore, “Uh-huh, anything for you… fuckin’ anything…”

When your lower half burns out, Yuuji keeps you upright - fully fucking up into you at that same spot he pushes down on your tummy. The need to cum burns every nerve in your body - it burns and burns and burns until it changes.

Something fuller and more familiar - in a more daily-life kind of way.

“Ah, Yuuji,” your hands perch on his shoulders, body bouncing with the weight of Yuuji’s hips slinging into yours, “I think- ! It feels like- !”

“Talk to me, angel,” dumbly, he looks up at you, almost snickering, “‘Entertain me.’”

“Feels like ‘m gonna pee,” you try warning him, you really do.

But something behind his eyes just shines brighter, grin widening and he actually laughs, “Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Fuck yeah,” he stares, wide-eyed, at where you’re creaming on his cock, “You gonna squirt on me, baby?” his foolish nodding quickens with his hips, “Squirt all over me, angel, I want it - want it so bad. Soak my car, oh,” his pretty mouth circles into an ‘O’ just at the thought, “Please, please soak my fucking car!”

Your head jerks back, nails digging into Yuuji’s shoulders, throat snapping raw as you cry out braindead mixtures of your boyfriend’s name and pleas for more and harder and his cum.

He moves the hand on your tummy to swish your clit and spread your mess as far as he can, mouth popping open almost instinctively just to catch stray droplets of your cum in his mouth. One day (tomorrow) he might regret (will definitely regret) intentionally making you spray cum all over his front, and even back, seats, but right now he couldn’t possibly imagine not doing it.

“‘m gonna cum,” he grits his teeth, moans choked back in his throat, “‘m gonna cum - where?” before he can ask again, you find the strength to swivel your hips down on him, “Inside?”

“Inside!” you sob, chest tight and eyes watering at the overstimulation of Yuuji still swirling a thumb on your clit, “Cum inside, Yuuji!”

“Fu- ck,” he squeezes the word out of his chest, seating you fully on his lap when his cock throbs. He juts his chin out towards you when he starts cumming, “Kiss me?”

And you waste no time throwing yourself forward to press chaste, sweet kisses on Yuuji’s drooling lips. He hums and whimpers into your mouth, greedily drinking in the taste of your lips on his. As if he’d been starved of it his entire life.

Yuuji keeps you against him, the both of you slowly coming back down to Earth.

His sopping pants are beginning to cool underneath you.

“Ugh,” you groan at the feeling, “I think we made a mistake.”

“Yeah…” Yuuji sighs, “Oh well. Can’t unfuck in the car now.”

You’re kind of dreading pulling off Yuuji’s soft cock - if you hadn’t done enough to ruin Yuuji’s pants before, then that most certainly will.

Yuuji sighs again, heartier, hands coddling your hips and tenderly rubbing circles into your bone. His eyes fall to your breasts and remain there, “I really am sorry, angel. I- I never, ever wanted you to feel like I didn’t want you.”

Because he does. Good, God, he always does.

Every time he sees you, his hands get all sweaty and his cheeks are hot and his stomach twists into jumbles of knots.

“It hurt,” you admit, “but it’s fine now,” you giggle at the idea of him apologizing over trying to be respectful, “It isn’t like you were being a dick, you know?”

“Yeah, but! Ugh!” he clenches a hand over his heart dramatically, frowning, “I hurt my girlfriend’s feelings. My sweet girl :( “

“You’re cute,” you kiss one of Yuuji’s fiery cheeks, “Okay, help me off.”

“Oh, yeah, huh,” he stretches over your shoulder to wring your panties back up your leg, “It’ll be unpleasant, but I think you need to wear these back to your apartment.”

“I’ll live,” you pick at the elastic to Yuuji’s pants and snap them back against his sweaty thigh, “Can’t be worse than this, pee pants.”

“Hey, it’s not pee,” he pouts once again tonight, “And be nice.”

You shake your head, leaning down to press your lips against Yuuji’s once again. Soaking in the taste like you’d been starved of it your entire life, “Never.”

this is so good omg

The Sun and The Moon

Summary: Yuji’s return to the jujutsu world prompts you to say some words that you’ve been holding back

A/n: takes place in season one (ep 14), reader has a shy personality and is kinda based on an OC that I have but feel free to change some things to suit your tastes, hints to unrequited feelings on Megumi's part so some angst

Warning(s): mentions of death, unrequited feelings

"You know this could be considered a form of bullying?" Yuji whimpers, and you can't help the smile that forms on your face. Yuji always had a way of trying to be funny, which you appreciated. Nobara rolls her eyes and turns away from the pink-haired boy.

"Shut up and stay that way for a while."

Panda and Toge are quick to reason with the stubborn girl. Walking over to Yuji, you nod in agreement. "Gojo-sensei is the one that made Itadori-kun keep his revival secret. We shouldn't hold it against him," you add, gently taking the picture frame out of Yuji's hands and offering him a small smile. The boy grins back at you as his hands intertwine and comical tears fall from his eyes.

"(l/n)! You're an angel!" A red hue spreads on your cheeks, and you quickly turn away from the boy and return to your spot next to Megumi. Your eyes briefly meet his, and a buzz spreads in your heart. Megumi's always found it easy to read you (and you, him), so he tells the others to let you get some fresh air after discussing their plan for the exchange event. Silently nodding at him, you quickly leave to escape from the other student's question gazes, especially Yuji's.

Jujutsu Tech has always been beautiful. The landscape and quiet air have felt like home ever since your father brought you to the school as a toddler. Looking out at the swaying trees and tall grass, you sigh. You love the quietness and tranquility of the grounds, but at the same time, it fills you with unease.

Life as a sorcerer isn't meant to be calm and still. Kento's always been straightforward, reminding you of the grim reality of your lives. How quickly and abruptly it can. Either your's or your comrade's.

Maybe that's why Yuji's death at the detention center had impacted you more than it should have. Before, it was just you and Megumi, a stable and familiar life you've known ever since Satoru introduced Megumi into your life. It's a life you wouldn't trade anything for, but at the same time, it was always the same thing every day. When Yuji joined, it was like a bright ray from the sun had been cast upon your life. His cheery attitude and kind smiles were rare in the jujutsu world. Even though he knew that his death was inevitable and his future was grim, he still smiled so brightly.

Tears roll down your cheeks, and you curse quietly as you wipe them away. Even after wiping the fallen ones, new ones continue to fall, and you jump when you hear a worried voice call out to you.

"You okay, (l/n)?" Yuji asks, his eyebrows furrowed and a frown on his lips. He quietly moves to sit next to you, and you furiously nod while looking down at the ground. You didn't want Yuji to see you like this, like some crybaby. "Is...is this about me?" he whispers, and in a hope to spare him from guilt, you don't respond. "I wanted to tell you, ya know. More than anyone. I didn't like thinking that I was the reason you were sad."

You laugh shakily and lift your gaze to meet Yuji's. Despite your watery eyes, you smile at him. "When you died, it just reinforced something that I always knew."

"Huh?"

"In this life, as jujutsu sorcerers, good people always die." Yuji frowns even more at your grim words. "But, when I saw your body on the ground at the detention center," a shaky breath escapes your lips as your heart beats widely in your chest, "It was like the sun stopped shining."

Yuji's eyes widened at your words, and his lips parted in confusion. The sun? Him? "When we first met, you smiled so brightly. You were shining like the sun that comes after cloudy mornings." You can feel your cheeks burning and go back to starting at the ground ahead of you. A short silence passes, and a pit forms in your belly. Oh no, maybe you should've just kept your mouth shut. What if Yuji is creeped out? What if he thinks you're a total freak and tells everyone else but the stuff you said? What if he stops being frien-

"If I'm the sun, then you're the moon."

Huh?

"The moon always shines in the dark night and always calms everyone down like you do." Your eyes widen, and this time it's you who looks confused. Yuji chuckles at your face and delicately tucks a strand behind your hair before smiling his oh-so-bright-and-radiant smile. "When night comes, everyone looks up at the pretty moon."

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you giggle and smile at the boy beside you, the one you fell for at first sight. And it looks like that boy may have also fallen for you. Two lovers who always gravitate around one another and share a cosmic connection that transcends all.

Extra:

"Go talk to her," Megumi says, and Yuji raises a brow. 'Megumi's a confusing guy', Yuji thinks.

"But you just said that (l/n) needs some air and I don't wanna bother her." The stoic boy rolls his eyes and lifts Yuji from the floor by his hood. A different kind of frown pulls at his lips.

"Just go talk to her, moron." Yuji raises his hands in surrender and fixes his hood as he exits the room. Megumi excuses himself shortly after and stands in the hall alone.

His heart clunches pitifully as his hands tighten into fists. Why had you fallen for Yuji? Why not him? 'No', he thinks. He already knows the answer, which pains him even more.

If you were like the moon, then Megumi was like the stars, the first to see your beautiful glow and always wishing that you would notice him.

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍' 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 l yuji entering your dorm with the spare key you gave him after a couple weeks of dating. Rambling happy about his day, not noticing you were asleep until he heard a soft snore from you. A warm smile made it's way onto yuji's face as he saw you enveloped in his baggy sweatshirt, quietly walking over to your side of the bed containing himself from scooping you up into his arms. An instead, pressed a kiss to your forehead letting you know he's there.

Yuji planned on ordering food for you as a surprise for when you wake up, he knew missions were starting to take a serious toll and strain on your body and decided to treat you to some takeout. That was until he felt you small hand reach out of underneath the covers and tug his shirt. "M'cold." Letting out a airy laugh, the sorcerer sat down on your bed intertwining his fingers with yours. "Baby aren't you cozy under the sheets though?" You shook your head no, "M'cold without you."

That mere sentence made yuji's heart grow three sizes big, and fall deeper in love with you. He could order food later.

Right now all that mattered was you.

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆— FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN

✾˚ft :: m. fushiguro, y. itadori

✾˚ description + notes :: comfort-fluff, gn! reader, soft megumi alert!, I honestly almost cried myself while making this.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 quickly rushed over to your side the moment he saw you step into his dorm with tears rolling down your cheeks. "Hey hey, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you?" Shaking your head no, he'll then softly wipe your tears away with his thumb before kissing in-between your brows. "Your okay angel I'm right here, you can spend the night if you want I still got some of your clothes from the last time you slept over." Megumi's heart aches seing your usually happy aura replaced with sadness, so prepared to be constantly spoiled for the rest of the day, showered in kisses and tight hugs until he sees your sweet smile.

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈's face quickly turned from one of happiness to one of concern as he saw you sniffling and wiping your eyes. "Baby? Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?" His eyes quickly darted all over your figure looking for any bruises or open cuts, when you shook your head and wrapped your arms around his torso yuji's eyes began to water as well. "Hey hey baby, look at me." As looked up at the sorcerer tears began to well up in his eyes, seeing your slightly pink eyes and tear stained cheeks was enough to make him cry like a baby. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to right now, but please—" Leaning down slightly he kissed your quivering lips softly. "Don't cry, your too pretty for tears baby." He whispered softly against your lips, making a tiny smile tug at your lips as you replied with a soft, "okay."

᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢

CHAPTER 1 : EYE-TO-EYE

★ — NEXT CHAPTER

LINK TO ᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢 MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ summary; one friday afternoon, you come face-to-face with a man covered in tats. when at the counter, a small voice politely asks ‘papa’ for a cookie…

╰┈➤ includes; gn! barista! reader, single dad! sukuna, child! yuji, extreme fluff, sukuna is 28 (had yuji at 18), reader is early 20s’ so somewhat of an age gap

╰┈➤ a/n; consider this mini series as a 1k follower special! I’m so stoked I made it this far, tysm for all the support throughout the years <3

╰┈➤ taglist; @alluresenses, @ryomku, @slaysksmska, @vduxx, @yanelis-world, @cloudy51, @gangeyes, @khaleesihavilliard, @valen-yamyam16, @craxy-gezel @kunasexygf, @sukunamylovexoxo, @mazzd4 (if you wanna be added just hit me an ask :3)

THE GENTLE TINKLE of the bell alerted you of a new costumer, causing you to turn around away from the coffee machine ready to greet said customer with a smile and polite welcome, only for your body to stiffen in reflex.

the man that now stood in front of the counter had an eerie aura to him. he wore a black wife beater, the tight clothing highlighting the muscles that lay beneath the clothing, his arms covered in black tats, the muscles making the tats seem extra prominent. his grey sweatpants may be baggy, but you guessed that underneath lays muscular legs and thighs that could easily crush a watermelon-

snapping out of checking out the hot, dangerous looking stranger, you gave him a strained smile at him, hoping he couldn’t sense your nervousness. a small voice saying “papa, can I please have a cookie?” startled you. two little chubby hands cling to the counter, a mop of fluffy pink hair peeking at the variety of cookies on display.

“oi you brat! you’ve already had dessert at chosos’, I don’t need you bouncing off the damn walls when we get back,” the man grunted, arms crossing against his chest, which made his man tits more profound.

“hey, how about this; you can have a hot chocolate instead of a cookie?” you suggested, smiling at the cute little boy in front of you.

facing his father, yuji proceeded to plead him with the signature puppy dog eyes whilst a continuous chorus of pleases left his mouth.

sukuna sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he mumbled out “one hot chocolate for the brat and black coffee for me,” causing yuji to throw a little celebration, squealing in delight and hugging sukunas’ slutty waist, literally jumping with joy.

the sight plastered a small, genuine smile onto your face, unbeknownst to you, causing a blush to form onto sukunas’ usually stoic face, heart pounding in his chest at this new feeling.

when they found a table to sit at, you began making their drinks. whilst brewing sukunas’ coffee you thought to yourself why only the father was out with his son, is the mother out of the picture? do they take turns with custody over the child? is he simply having some father son bonding time?

you choose not to pry over it, it’s none of your business anyways. it’s kind of comical seeing such a scary, dangerous looking guy with a cute little kid. you have to admit though, the kid’s cute, even though he’s just a carbon copy of the man, but cuter.

when finished with their drinks, you quickly carried them over to their table, noticing how yujis’ face seemed to brighten up at the sight of you carrying his sweet drink. you placed their drinks onto the table, yuji thanking you with all his might whilst sukuna mumbled a small ‘thanks’ in response.

“hiya! i’m yuji and this is my daddy sukuna!” the boy greeted before you left back to the counter. you decided to stay and talk to the kid a bit, since it was near closing time and no other customers seemed to be coming in.

“hi yuji, i’m (name), it’s nice to meet you,” you smiled, ruffling his hair, causing him to let out little giggles at the gesture. sukuna sat back idly watching you interact with his son.

‘mmm, they interact well with yuji. I haven’t had any luck with any partners, especially when they find out I’m a father. his mother was a piece of shit and didn’t even want yuji in the first place, she left me with the brat when he was born’ sukuna thought to himself, maybe he could try shooting his shot? earlier he did notice you eyeing him up and down like a piece of candy, so maybe you’re interested?

“oi brat! quit annoying them!” sukuna berated yuji, testing out the waters to check if you really did want to talk to yuji because you wanted to or if you felt obliged to.

“nonesense! he’s not annoying me, a cutie such as him could never annoy me. I love kids, they give me so much joy. your dad sure is a lucky guy to have you isn’t he?” you grinned, pinching his chubby cheeks in the process causing him to whine out in retaliation.

internally sukuna is smitten, he’s never seen anyone treat yuji with such love, other than choso. maybe you are the right one after all? the problem is, how can he ask you out without making a scene? (the scene being yuji making a huge fuss over him having a partner for the first time since his mum)

“do you have a pen by any chance?” the sudden sound of sukunas’ deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. “yup, just give me a second sir” you curtly responded, rummaging through your breast pocket before grabbing a pen and giving it to the tatted man.

sukuna grabbed a napkin from the table and hastily scribbled down something before placing the pen back onto the table and practically chugging his coffee.

“brat you finished with your drink?” sukuna asked the little munchkin “noooo, need more time!” yuji cried out. you simply took his cup and placed the coffee into a take out coffee cup, giving it to him so he could drink it on the way back.

“thank you!” yuji bowed, before taking his dads’ way larger hand into his own tiny chubby one. you simply watched as they walked out of the shop, the gentle tinkle of the bell indicating that they’ve left.

you spotted the napkin sukuna wrote on, numbers scribbled along with a small ‘my number : if interested text me and we can go on a date’

you became flustered, feeling your heart flutter at the thought of seeing the attractive dilf once again. maybe you’d text him tomorrow, as you’re usually free on Saturdays as the shop closes earlier at 12:00.

you’re surprised that sukuna was interested, he didn’t show much interest during your interaction. he’s going to be a hard guy to read.

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢

CHAPTER 3 : LITTLE HELPER

★ — PREVIOUS CHAPTER ★ — NEXT CHAPTER

LINK TO ᭨ ⃟⃜㊙️. THE ITADORIS’ ू✙˚💬 ̳͟͞͞. 📁💢 MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ summary; sukuna has work to do in short notice, and so you come along to help look after his 10 year old son yuji, where you and the little boy will have the adventure of a lifetime

╰┈➤ includes; dad! sukuna, toddler! yuji, gn! reader, mentions of future dates between you and sukuna, plenty of cute moments with yuji, somewhat clueless reader

╰┈➤ a/n; I’m so sorry this has taken forever to make this, I’ve been stuck in a writers’ block and been struggling with mental health issues. I can promise you guys that I will continue this series but it may take some time between chapters! tysm for being so patient with me!

╰┈➤ taglist; @alluresenses , @ryomku, @slaysksmska, @vduxx, @yanelis-world, @cloudy51, @gangeyes, @khaleesihavilliard, @valen-yamyam16, @craxy-gezel, @kunasexygf, @sukunamylovexoxo, @mazzd4, @diettothemusic, @donustellaron, @mwtsxri, @justchaoticwhispers, @thegodpleasingcrownprince (if you wanna be added just hit me an ask :3)

“HUH?” SUKUNA DEADPANNED, acting as if you just grew two heads then and there. “what do ya’ mean you’d like to go on a date? haven’t we already had a couple?” sukuna grunted out, arms crossing against his beefy chest.

you simply shrugged in response “those weren’t dates silly, we were just hanging out,” you explained, petting yuji on his little head whilst he stood beside you, causing him to let out a cute, heartwarming giggle at the display of affection from his second favourite person.

sukuna simply huffed out a frustrated sigh, before walking to his room to change into something for work. “what is it you do for work anyway?”

“I’m a professional boxer, it pays well” he yelled back, whilst changing his shirt, you became flushed at the thought of sukuna in the boxing ring, shirtless, shorts hugging his nice thick-

“and his usual bedtime is 8:30, you got all that?” sukuna queried. ‘oh shit, I was too busy in horny land that I didn’t catch any of what he told me!’ you internally screamed to yourself, hoping that sukuna didn’t say much whilst you were daydreaming about his juicy, phat ass-

and he was out the house

you felt a little tap from the pink haired boy, who was giving you puppy dog eyes. you braced yourself for what he was gonna ask for, convincing yourself you won’t fall for his cheap tricks-

and here you were, back from the shop, a bag full of sweets and sugary shit

yuji eagerly opened up the bag, before spilling all the bags across the living room floor in front of the den you guys made from pillows and blankets

“your dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out about this…” you murmured to the chubby faced boy, before squishing his cheeks like a granny would with her grandchildren.

“don’t worry, I’m sure he won’t find out” yuji comforted, before opening a pack of sweets and stuffing a handful into his mouth

“hey! don’t choke now, eat one at a time little man” you chided, teasingly glaring at him as he simply cheekily grinned in response.

“you really are your dads’ son,” you muttered under your breath. you could easily picture yuji as an adult, simply sukuna but more cheerful and less…. intimidating, also minus the tattoos

“so, what movie you wanna watch?” you asked, sitting down on the make-shift den and grabbing the remote from the living room table. yuji placed his finger on his chin, scrunching his whole face in concentration

took him a good couple of minutes before he squealed out “kung fu panda!” whilst wiggling around in excitement at the idea of watching his favourite film for the nth time

by the time sukuna came back, yuji was fast asleep in the makeshift den, a puddle of drool evident on the pillow his head was on

“glad the brat is fast asleep. he didn’t give you any trouble now did he? if so I will-“ sukuna started, only to be interrupted by you interrupting with “no, no! he was perfect, we pretty much watched movies the whole time, he’s probably the most behaved kid I’ve ever babysat. I would gladly do this again, it was a pleasure honestly” you whispered, careful to not wake the sleeping toddler that was now being carried by sukuna

“you can leave now if you want to, I’m not gonna stop you” sukuna grunted out, gently placing yuji into his bed and tucking him in. yuji mumbling seemingly in protest of being put to bed

……

after that night, you and sukuna have been very close, pretty much hanging out everyday (with yuji of course), when you were at work at the barista, sukuna and yuji would be everyday customers, with sukuna giving you a huge tip every time

you could feel a string of tension between you and sukuna when you interacted with each other, specially when you guys were alone, you just didn’t know how to tell him how you felt

he had the same problem, he hasn’t been in a relationship ever since yujis’ mum left, so when his heart fluttered when he saw you, wether it be your smile, your laugh or even when you were tired, he felt his heart pound against his chest, you were just too cute

unknown to the both of you, one day a little yuji itadori would break the tension with a question that would fluster you two to no end…..

© content belongs to @huboi on tumblr, DO NOT REPOST ON ANY SOCIAL MEDIA PLATFORMS WHATSOEVER

the characters of jujutsu kaisen don’t belong to me, I only own the writing

Lover (Feat. Yuji Itadori) [Limited Edition CD]

YUJI X READER! Moving in with your boyfriend was a heavy task. To moving boxes, unpacking them, you knew the long awaited chore was doomed from the start. Although, sharing food and a kiss at the end seemed like a good reward. ❝WE COULD LEAVE THE CHRISTMAS LIGHTS UP TILL JANUARY. THIS IS OUR PLACE, WE MAKE THE RULES❞ ᥫ᭡ LOVER; MASTERLIST

The sleek door clicked shut behind you, taking a deep breath you let the scent of fresh paint fill your lungs. Boxes were stacked haphazardly around the small living room, ranging from big to small.

It was the result to the long day of moving you and Yuji had just endured. Despite the exhaustion creeping up, you couldn't help the bubbling excitement at the thought that you and your boyfriend were finally moving forward and starting this new chapter together.

"Well, here we are," Yuji said, setting down the last box and wiping the sweat from his brow. His eyes sparkled with the same excitement you felt. "Our own place."

You smiled at him with your heart beating faster than normal. "I can't believe we actually did it. First apartment."

Yuji walks over and wraps you in a strong hug from behind, rocking the two of you back and forth before pressing a soft kiss to your head. He moves to nuzzle his in the crook of your neck, letting out a soft hum. “Yeah, it's amazing. I can't wait to make so many memories here with you."

Blushing at his words, you redirect your eyes to the front of you while leaning to put a bit of your weight onto his, sending a silent message that you agree. The more you start to take in the new space filled with boxes, the excitement is soon overran by overwhelm.

It had been a journey in itself to pack all your belongings. It was fun at first with motivation still high, but when it wore off, the laziness kicked in you in the ass. You couldn’t be more appreciative for Yuji who didn’t mutter a word of complaint when you asked for help; rather finding it fun since in his words, it was more time the both of you spent together.

Ironic since you both were moving in together.

"Where should we start?"

"How about we tackle the kitchen first?" Yuji suggested, lifting his head to look towards the nearby empty cooking area. In doing so, his pink hair tickled the back of your neck; slightly making you squirm in his hold. He chokes out a laugh, releasing you to step back. "That way, we can at least make ourselves a cup of tea or something."

You nodded and without a word moved around the huge boxes to find the labeled “Kitchen” in thick black sharpie, likely in messy handwriting considering your boyfriend packed most of the kitchens essentials.

After a minute or two of rummaging and searching, you find it buried next to boxes twice its size. You spare a desperate glance to find your boyfriend already busy unpacking what looks like plates covered in plastic wrap. Letting out a grunt, you pick up the heavy box, being careful not to drop it too roughly as you settle near him.

Noticing your presence, he gives you a quick smile before continuing his menstruations, stacking said plates by size. Seeking the clear urgency to finish up, you leave to yourself. Grabbing the box cutter found in the middle of the two of you, cutting the heavy cardboard box—you start on your task.

The both of you continue the long process of unpacking and unwrapping the fragile items. Yuji occasionally having to stop a to assist you with grabbing heavy materials; even with your pleas that you could do it yourself. You eventually gave up once it set in that he was intentionally doing it to poke fun at you.

Once he’d finally seemed accomplished with teasing you, the pink-haired male let you finish up the last two boxes that you had grabbed earlier, him following suit with one box. The silence that followed wasn’t one uncomfortable, you found the clinking of glass and porcelain to be comforting in a sense.

“Babe?”

You look up, stopping your movements to put plates the cabinets. You see the boy adorning a huge grin on his face, holding up an old, mismatched set of mugs you had insisted on keeping, much to his amusement.

"Really? These are ancient," he teased, holding up a chipped mug with a faded cartoon character on it, turning it around to peer at it closer.

"They're vintage!" you defended, playfully swatting at his arm before trying to grab the dish. His response was using his height to raise the cup further from your reach. "And they have sentimental value."

He grinned till it reached his eyes, setting the mug aside carefully. "Alright, alright. We'll keep them."

As the kitchen began to take shape, you couldn't help the emotion that ran up your throat. It wasn't perfect—not even close, but it was yours. It was a home for two lovers to share. The excitement of building a place of comfort together, one box at a time, made the moment special.

After a hour or two of taking essentials out of boxes and putting them away, the kitchen looked somewhat complete. Sure, it was missing some things to truly bring it to life, but it was enough. Plus, you had been throughly exhausted. The heavy workload clearly had an effect on your body with how it ached.

You collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, surrounded by boxes as Yuji joins you, his energy as boundless as ever as he rests his head against your lower thigh. "I think we've earned a break. How about some dinner?" he suggested, peering up to see your answer.

You looked around at the chaotic state of the apartment. "I don't think we'll be cooking tonight. How about we order some takeout?"

Yuji's eyes lit up at the mention of food. “Perfect. Let's make it a picnic on the floor."

You laughed at the idea at first. Using the opportunity to tease the male knowing you’d be helping him not a minute later. Quickly ordering from your favorite takeout place, you waited for the food to arrive as Yuji pulled out a bottle of sparkling water and two of your "vintage" mugs.

"Cheers to our new home," he said, clinking his mug against yours.

"Cheers," you echoed, trying not to spill any water onto yourself with the smile plastered onto your face.

When the food arrived, you spread out a plaid blanket with two pillows to sit upon. The takeout took up more than two quarters of the bedspread, but the two of you were pretty big on the cuisine. It had been one of the reasons why you bonded so well. Although it never stopped Nobara from comparing the two of you nonstop.

As you both dug in, Yuji looked around the room, his expression thoughtful as he swallowed his food. "You know, I always dreamed of having a place like this. Somewhere cozy—with someone I love."

You smiled, pausing to softly squeeze his hand for a moment. "Me too. And now we get to make it our own."

He nodded with wrinkled eyes. "Yeah. I just can't wait enough more. I mean it."

It’s safe to say the two of you spent the next hour eating and talking about your plans for your new life together. Yuji's excitement was contagious as he described the cute little touches he wanted to add to each room, from fairy lights in the bedroom to a cozy reading nook by the window.

"We should definitely have a plant or two," he said, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. "They'll make the place feel alive."

You laughed, loving his passion. "Agreed. Maybe we can even start a little herb garden in the kitchen."

Yuji's face lit up with delight. "Yes! That sounds perfect."

As the meal came to an end, you both leaned back against the wall, belly’s full and happy. The weight of your boyfriend’s head on your shoulder didn’t feel uncomfortable; more of a familiar sensation. Yuji glanced at the boxes still strewn around the room and then back at you. "You know what this place needs right now?"

"What?" you asked, curious.

"A little bit of dancing," he said with a mischievous grin.

You laughed, shaking your head. "We don't even have any music."

He pulled out his phone and quickly found a playlist of your favorite songs. "Problem solved," he said, standing up and offering you his hand.

You recognize the song from the first beat, Lover. If you and Yuji were to have a song dedicated to your relationship, it’d be that. You remember the memory of it playing at a popular bar, and him insisting on the two of you slow dance even though you were “just friends”.

The song held memories of the two of you sharing a special connection through music, and rather now too—since both of you could relate to the lyrics on having a new place all to yourselves; while being lovers.

It might be corny, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

You took it, feeling a urge of affection for this wonderful, spontaneous man, that you had the pleasure to call yours. As the music started to play, Yuji pulled you into his arms, and you began to sway together in the middle of your new living room.

The song was slow and sweet as always, and you let yourself get lost in the moment, feeling the warmth of his body against yours and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Hiding your face against his neck, you hid your smile against it. Yuji's excitement was palpable, and it made your own heart race.

"You know," he murmured into your ear, "dancing with you like this, in our own place. . .it's like a dream come true."

You took your head out of his shoulder to look up at him, feeling the rush of a blush coming. "For me too, Yuji. This is perfect."

As the song changed to a more upbeat tune, Yuji twirled you around, making you laugh with delight while almost tripping on your feet. You danced around the room, weaving between the boxes, you and your boyfriends laughter echoing off the bare walls. It didn't matter that your furniture wasn't set up or that you were surrounded by unpacked boxes. In that moment, you had everything you needed.

Yuji pulled you close again, body’s touching as he cups your face with his calloused hands. "I love you," he said, pausing for a moment to stroke your cheek with his thumb. “Like, so much.”

"You’re such a romantic," you giggled, moving one of your hands that rested upon his neck up to his pink hair; intertwining some of the soft strands with your fingers.

He leaned down and captured your lips in a sweet, tender kiss. His lips were soft and warm against yours, moving gently as if savoring the moment. You could feel the subtle pressure of his hand at the small of your back, drawing you closer. The kiss was unhurried, each second stretching out as your breaths mingled. As you pulled away, your lips tingled from the lingering touch.

"We're going to make so many amazing memories here," he whispered as you felt him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

You nodded, heart full. "Of course we will, just the beginning.”

The night continued with more dancing, more laughter, and more dreams shared. Eventually, as the excitement of the day caught up with you, you both decided to call it a night. You made a makeshift bed out of blankets and pillows on the floor, snuggling up together.

As you lay there, wrapped in Yuji's arms, you felt his steady heartbeat against your back. His arm was draped over your waist, holding you securely yet gently. His breath was warm against the nape of your neck, and his presence enveloped you like a comforting blanket. The gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a sense of peace, the quiet of the room punctuated only by the soft rustling of sheets as you both settled into the embrace.

"Goodnight, baby," Yuji whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your head.

"Goodnight, Yuji," you replied, your eyes closing as you drifted off to sleep.

*In Jujutsu Tech*

Megumi: *peacefully listening to music with his headphones on*

* Yuji and Nobara talking together*

Nobara: Hey, look at Megumi

Megumi: * bobbing his head up and down slightly and tapping his fingers on the table*

Yuji: do you ever wonder what type of music he listens to? *scratches his head*

Nobara: *admires her freshly done nails* not really, but I have a feeling he listens to heavy rock

Yuji: *dumbfounded* what makes you think that?

Nobara: *smirks* no hate towards him, but his aura screams EMO

Yuji: *giggles* hmmm, you’re right. Let’s find out then

*giggle and walk towards Megumi*

Yuji & Nobara: Hey, Megumi :)

Megumi: *looks at them and proceeds to take off his headphones* what do you guys want?

Nobara: *scoffs* we wanted to ask you a question

Yuji: *smiles brightly* yeah!

Megumi: ….uhhh ok…

*Nobara and Yuji smile at each other*

Nobara: what type of music do you listen to? *arches her brow*

Megumi: why?

Yuji: well, you seemed really into the music you were listening to and we wanted some recommendations *smiles and claps his hands together*

Megumi: *sighs* I’ll tell you guys but first you’ll have to tell me what type of music you guys listen to. *leans back into his chair*

Nobara: Pft, that’s easy *smiles widely* The one and only Megan Thee Stallion *sassily says and flips her short hair*

Yuji: *smiles at Nobara* Omg, me too!!! I even got posters of her, along with my Jennifer Lawrence posters!

Megumi: *looks at them confuse* oh okay…

Megumi: well, I listen to Weezer.

*Yuji and Nobara look at each other*

Nobara: Weezer? What’s that? Some lame rock band? *genuinely confused*

Yuji: Weezer? Huh? Never heard of them *shrugs his shoulders*

Megumi: *rolls his eyes* actually Nobara, it is a rock band. And it’s not lame.

Nobara: *unfazed* whatever.

Yuji: *smiles* I’ll be glad to listen to some of their songs:)

Megumi: *blushes but brushes it off* yeah, ok

Megumi: * unplugs his headphones from his phone and plays, “Island In The Sun” *

*Nobara and Yuji listen attentively*

Nobara: *disdained* this isn’t rock?! Rock has electric guitars and screams!

Yuji: it sounds kinda nerdy *cringes*

Megumi: *looks at them blankly* you guys suck.

Megumi: *stands up and leaves*

Nobara: *bites her lip* he’s one weird dude…

Yuji: yeah, but that’s what makes megumi be megumi…

You: ay babe? wanna try some of my noodles?

Yuji: ooo, heck yeah:)

*proceeds to feed Yuji some noodles*

Yuji: mmmm they’re really good. Especially the broth-

Sukuna’s mouth: hey! I wanna try some!

*you look at Yuji and then at sukuna*

Yuji: *smacks the mouth* hahaha, don’t listen to him, honey

Sukuna’s mouth: stupid brat! Don’t be selfish and let your girlfriend feed me too!

Yuji: shut up, dude

You: hahahaha, it’s fine. I don’t mind…

Yuji: you don’t have-

Sukuna’s mouth: shut it kid, she said, she don’t mind ;)

Yuji: pft, whatever

*brings the bowl near Yuji’s cheek and feeds Sukuna some noodles*

Sukuna: what the fuck?! For once in my life time I actually agree with you, stupid brat! It’s the broth that gives it that special kick!

You: glad you like it, sukuna

Sukuna: anytime sweet stuff

You: hahahaha *blushes*

Yuji: okay, quit flirting with my girl

Sukuna: Hahahaha, once I take full control of this body! I will totally bang the crap out of-

*shoves more noodles into his mouth*

You: okay…