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Some part of Megumi is glad that Tsumiki is finally free from all of this misery.
He’s always accepted that nothing about being a sorcerer is fair. It’s hard now when the proof of his failure is in front of him in the shape of his sister's cold, dead body, especially when she's one of the only people who he ever cared to save.
He doesn’t know how long he’s cried for, not when his consciousness fades in and out like a closing lid. He rocks himself where he’s curled up in the pit of his own soul, trying desperately to hold together the million pieces of his weeping heart.
“There’s little use crying, little one,” says Sukuna, his deep, smooth voice settling in the dark like a miasma.
“Leave me alone,” he croaks, hoarse, and he laughs.
“How can I, when a meal as succulent as you is laid out in front of me? Open your eyes.”
A direct command is easy to refuse, so he curls up tighter to cover his face. It’s quickly refuted when Sukuna yanks his hair back, but Megumi keeps them stubbornly closed. The pain is sharp, but nothing is worse after what he just did.
He hopes that she didn’t suffer much.
He yelps when Sukuna flips him onto his back and pins his wrists over his head. It jolts him back, and his eyes fly open in shock.
He feels so much larger, with more limbs than he remembers.
It takes a moment to focus on Sukuna. He sports the same rose-colored hair and bold tattoos, but he never looked exactly like Yuuji, his soul too feral to be contained in his sweet face and a certain brutality lining his features.
He barely recognizes Yuuji’s body like this.
He’s a hulking lion of a curse, much bigger than he had seen him with an extra pair of arms and half of his face obstructed with what seems to be a mask. He’s immediately drawn to the two sets of ruby-red eyes boring into him glinting like blood, and where it was a little amusing when it popped up on Yuuji, it’s like staring into the eyes of the devil now.
He understands now what he must have looked like when he pillaged and destroyed entire civilizations.
Megumi can tell exactly where Sukuna’s gaze shifts over his face, from his red-rimmed emerald eyes, down to where his tears have dried on his face, briefly to his lips and back up. It feels like he’s being eaten alive.
Sukuna pins him down with two hands on each shoulder, the other two on his wrists. He can tell he’s barely using an ounce of his strength, his muscles barely flexing, and it makes their size and power difference all too noticeable.
Don’t look scared.
He tries to stay still. To not look scared. Sukuna would want him to struggle, after all. He seems like the type to play with his food. It’s hard not to squirm since his wrists are already aching, but it doesn’t matter because he hiccups not a moment after, the sound small and pathetic even to his own ears.
He shrinks as Sukuna laughs, the sound rumbling through his body. Oddly, it doesn’t sound cruel, rather more like gentle amusement.
“Where is your fight, Fushiguro Megumi?” Sukuna murmurs. “Don’t tell me that you’ve already given up. I have been waiting for this moment ever since I laid eyes on you, stuck in that brat’s body. I imagined it would take more for me to break you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Megumi whispers. He’s sick of fighting. He’s so sick of all of it. He doesn’t know what moment he means, what sick fantasies he was thinking of.
It becomes clear when Sukuna trails one of his hands from the side of his hip up to his chest. When he reaches the hem of his neckline, he dips his fingers inside the collar. His fingertips are warm as they drag up the thin skin of his neck and pry his jaws open.
It’s all too reminiscent of the nightmarish events that led to this moment, when Sukuna restrained him and forced the finger down his throat, but before he can move, Sukuna spits into his open mouth.
Megumi stares at Sukuna with wide eyes, frozen in shock and disgust. His saliva is warm, tasteless as it drips down his throat, and finally, he squirms, choking on it, held back by Sukuna’s grasp.
“You’re finally mine,” Sukuna growls. “Do I really have to explain, pet?”
Sukuna pinches his nose shut with his palm over his mouth, just like how he got him to swallow his finger. Megumi thrashes in his grasp like a clipped dove.
His vision swims as he runs out of oxygen. He can’t help it — he swallows, and it feels like a film down his throat. He's immediately rewarded with air, and he gasps as he lets go of his mouth as Sukuna rubs his throat. There are tears welling up in his eyes.
He hates himself. He hates himself so much.
“Just listen to me,” Sukuna says, his breath hot against the side of his neck, “and this will be easy for you.”
He rips off Megumi’s uniform top to bottom as easily as he’s torn off Yuuji’s, and he lets out a strangled sound as cool air wafts against his skin. “No,” he chokes. He's completely bare from head to toe. He’s never shown himself like this in front of anyone before. Even with Yuuji, he insists on wearing a shirt when things progress from a heavy make-out session.
This time, it’s impossible to hide. He flushes deeply, the heat reaching his chest, and his panic spikes as Sukuna’s eyes roam his body greedily. His smile is all teeth—he doesn’t think he’s ever looked so happy before, and Sukuna scares him now more than he ever has before.
"Beautiful," Sukuna murmurs. “Your display is worth all of the cities I have destroyed. How pleasing it is that I get to wear your lovely face out in the real world.” He fondles what feels like his entire chest, and he winces as he pinches his nipples hard.
Megumi squeezes his eyes shut. Sukuna’s supposed to flay him alive like a fish, chop his head off clean, and destroy him in a wash of blood. Not—this.
There’s no reason for a curse that has committed every crime imaginable to not include rape.
He’s already violated his body in every other way. He didn’t think he had any more to lose.
He wonders if it would be easier if Sukuna was in Yuuji’s body. At least then, he can selfishly imagine the comfort he gives him—his broad shoulders, golden tan, kind smile. He can imagine his corded strength coiled under gentle movements, stretch the imagination that the want in Sukuna’s eyes is from Yuuji.
It could be easier if he accepts it first, right? Still, he can’t stop the shame from washing over him.
“I’m going to taste what’s been dangling in front of me this entire time—you, Fushiguro Megumi.”
He kisses him deeply, his thumb pressing bruises into his cheek as he squeaks into it. It’s nothing like the adoring kisses he shares with Yuuji. The ones where they cradle their faces close and say, I love you, and I’m so glad that you’re still alive, after a mission. It can’t be further apart.
Sukuna leads, and Megumi is helpless to follow until wet fingers touch him at the spot between his legs, jerking away from the kiss. None of this can be real.
“Don’t touch me,” he says, and he hates how terrified he sounds.
“How can I not when you respond to me so sweetly? Let me show you everything that you’ve been missing out on from that brat.”
Thick fingers press hard against his clit, and Sukuna swallows his gasp at the pressure. He spreads him, exposing his hole to the cool air, and he wants to hide. “Your cunt is so pink and tight for me, dear Megumi. What a lovely little discovery.”
“Stop,” he pleads. His face burns, mortified.
“I’m not going to stop until your body is weeping with my cum, until you’re bursting from the amount of times I’ve fucked you.”
A finger tries to press inside, and it’s only one but it’s so tight. He’s too dry. He feels his body try to reject it, and he blinks more tears from his eyes. How is this supposed to work?
“You’re a smart boy—relax for me. You can clench as hard as you want when I’m inside of you.”
Sukuna rubs his thumb against his clit exactly the way he likes, and he gasps, twisting his legs under Sukuna’s inhuman strength. He finds his mark and drills against the perfect spot at the same time, and Megumi moans helplessly, pressing his face against his arms.
The pressure builds inside much too quickly, and he’s wet enough now that Sukuna’s able to add another finger. It’s getting hard to control his breathing—he moans as he comes in an explosive rush. The intensity bursts through his white-hot nerves. It feels good, yet like nothing at all, and it sends sparks floating numbly through his head.
Sukuna keeps going—deeper, slower. Drawing out each fluttering contraction and Megumi can only respond in tiny whimpers. “Already, little one? How are you going to last the rest of the night?”
He withdraws his fingers to undress, and Megumi’s too dazed to try to escape. His robes drop, revealing his two cocks, already glistening at the tips. The widths must be at least the width of his forearm each, and Megumi’s breath catches in his throat, fear thrumming within him like a livewire.
He can’t possibly believe that both will fit. He doesn’t think that even one of them can — he’s going to tear horribly from it. He already struggled with his fingers. Overwhelmed tears fall down his cheeks, already exhausted. “I can’t,” he says, his voice cracking.
He receives a kiss to his sweaty forehead. “Don’t fret, darling. I’ll work you up to two one day.” He teases his bottom cock against his asshole; Megumi pales, but he moves his top cock against his weeping hole. Each pass makes it feel like he’s going to press in at any moment. It makes him dizzy with worry, and he can only cling onto his massive forearms to brace himself.
“Relax,” Sukuna murmurs, a gentle growl. It does little to calm his senses, but Sukuna fucks in in a single, smooth glide. He’s big, so big, and he keeps pushing in impossibly more. Megumi doesn’t realize he’s scrambling to get away until he grabs him by the hips, pulling Megumi towards him.
“Ah!” he sobs as his ass meets the tops of Sukuna’s thighs, feeling himself stretching to accommodate his girth. It’s too much, and his mind splits and frays at every neuron. He’s making the most pitiful little mewls, and Sukuna sucks on his bottom lip and strokes his hair in gentle, soothing motions.
It’s much too sweet for what the situation calls for from the most powerful curse to ever exist, and he doesn’t know why Sukuna has taken such a liking to him. Megumi hates that his touch works, and he leans into it, shivering. “It’s too much,” he bites out, much too fragile for his own liking. Sukuna isn’t moving, letting him adjust to his massive size, but every slight shift makes him feel like he’s going to break at any moment.
“You can take it.” Megumi can hear the hunger in his voice, a low sound that reverberates through his body like thunder. His thighs flex against him, like he’s preparing to thrust in, and for his own sake Megumi tries to relax, his walls fluttering around his throbbing length. “You’re taking me so well right now, darling.”
He tilts his hips, angling himself just right, and Megumi cries as he sets a powerful rhythm. He’s unnaturally hot around and inside of him, a searing heat that pounds out his pleasure in bright white sparks.
He arches his back, his whimpers coming out in a continuous, uncontrollable stream. It's getting too much, a pressure building up inside of him every time he pushes up against that spot inside of him.
When Megumi comes again, it’s in a rush that has him gasping for breath. He tries to clamp his legs shut to stop Sukuna from moving after his orgasm, and the pleasure is almost painful from the overstimulation. “Please! Sukuna, please,” he pleads, anything to get him to stop, but Sukuna relishes in it, the power behind his thrusts becoming stronger.
“You beg so prettily for me. I’m not going to stop until I pump you full of my children and everyone knows that you belong to me. We’ll be together forever like this,” he says, and he sounds mad.
Children? Sukuna’s movements stutter in a tell-tale sign that he’s going to come, and desperation builds up within him in a terrified heap. He doesn’t even know if it’s possible from a curse. “Not in me,” he protests, pushing back against his chest, but he’s like a fortress.
Sukuna presses into all of the spots that make him sob, and then he groans and shudders above him. Fluid that’s just on the side of too warm coats his insides, and Megumi moans, feeling utterly defeated.
For the first time, he wonders if he deserves this.
Tsumiki’s the best person he knows, and he wasn’t strong enough to save her. Everything in his life led up to this and he failed. The look of terror on Yuuji’s face when Sukuna took over flashes across in the same thought, and tears stain his cheeks once again as he closes his weary eyes.
The shadows swirl around him, licking his body and calling his name like the depths of the stormy sea. Has his soul always been so dark? He has always taken comfort in them, and now he wants to jump overboard and let the cool waves of them take over him—away from Sukuna, from his grief, from everything.
“I didn’t think it would be this easy, little dove,” Sukuna murmurs, and it’s the last thing Megumi hears before his consciousness slips into the darkness.