Bite love

The common room at Tokyo Jujutsu High was unusually quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of Megumi Fushiguro’s fingers against the wooden table. He wasn't reading a technique scroll or studying mission reports. Instead, his dark, intense gaze was fixed entirely on the girl sitting beside him.

Yuki was a contrast to the harsh, jagged edges of the sorcerer world. She was small, with long, straight hair that shimmered like polished obsidian under the fluorescent lights. Her uniform was customized, featuring a pleated miniskirt that showed off her legs and sturdy, lace-up boots that gave her a bit of extra height she desperately needed. She was currently focused on a textbook, her brow furrowed in concentration, looking every bit the "smart and shy" girl Megumi had fallen for.

Beneath the table, Megumi’s hand was firmly planted on her thigh. His grip wasn't painful, but it was possessive—a constant, heavy weight that served as a reminder of his presence. He didn't care that Maki was sharpening her polearm across the room or that Panda was lounging on the sofa. He only cared that Yuki was within his reach.

The sliding door creaked open, and Yuji Itadori burst in, followed closely by Toge Inumaki.

"Yuki-chan! You have to see this video of the bakery down in Harajuku!" Yuji exclaimed, his voice booming with his usual boisterous energy. He started to lean over her shoulder to show her his phone screen. "They have these limited-edition panda crepes, and I thought—"

Before Yuji could get within a foot of her, Megumi’s hand moved from Yuki’s thigh to her waist, pulling her flush against his side. The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly, turning cold and sharp. Megumi’s eyes narrowed into a warning glare that usually only appeared when he was facing a Special Grade curse.

"She’s busy, Itadori," Megumi said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous octave.

Yuji blinked, freezing in his tracks. He looked at Megumi’s protective stance and then at Yuki, who had turned a bright shade of pink, her small hands clutching her book.

"Uh, it’s just a crepe, Fushiguro," Yuji muttered, scratching the back of his head. "I wasn't gonna eat her."

"Tuna mayo," Inumaki added, his eyes darting between the couple with a mix of confusion and amusement.

"Go away," Megumi replied simply. He didn't look away from Yuji until the pink-haired boy beat a hasty retreat toward the kitchen, dragging a confused Inumaki with him.

Yuki looked up at Megumi, her voice barely a whisper. "Megumi, he was just being nice."

"I don't care," he muttered, his thumb tracing a slow, rhythmic circle against her hip. "You need to focus on your studies. I don't want them distracting you."

It was a lie, and they both knew it. Megumi wasn't worried about her grades; he was worried about the space she occupied in the world. He wanted that space to be filled only by him.

Later that afternoon, a training session was held in the courtyard. Gojo had summoned the second-years to join them, which meant Yuta Okkotsu was present. Yuta, with his gentle demeanor and immense cursed energy, was naturally kind to everyone. When Yuki tripped during a footwork drill, Yuta was the first to move, reaching out a hand to help her up.

"Are you okay, Yuki? That looked like a nasty fall," Yuta said, offering a warm, supportive smile.

Megumi moved faster than a Shikigami. He intercepted Yuta, stepping directly into the space between the two of them. He didn't take Yuta’s hand; instead, he hoisted Yuki up by her waist, checking her knees for scrapes himself.

"I’ve got her," Megumi said, his tone clipped.

Yuta paused, his hand still hovering in the air. He was one of the strongest sorcerers in existence, but even he seemed taken aback by the sheer intensity of the possessiveness radiating off the younger boy. "I was just helping, Fushiguro."

"She doesn't need your help," Megumi snapped, his shadow flickering unnaturally on the concrete.

Maki watched from the sidelines, leaning on her staff. "Sheesh, Megumi. Calm down. It’s Yuta, not a curse."

Megumi ignored her, leading Yuki away from the group. He didn't let go of her hand for the rest of the day.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, orange shadows across the school grounds, the two of them retreated to Megumi’s dorm room. It was the only place where the world felt small enough for him to manage. Here, there were no classmates, no teachers, and no threats to the fragile peace he felt when she was near.

The moment the door clicked shut, the stoic mask Megumi wore during the day crumbled. He turned to her, his movements urgent. He pulled her into his arms, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"You're so quiet today," he whispered against her skin.

Yuki reached up, her small fingers tangling in his messy dark hair. "You were being very scary today, Megumi. Even to Yuta-senpai."

"I don't like them looking at you," he admitted, his voice muffled. "I don't like how they think they can just talk to you whenever they want."

"They're our friends," she said softly, though she didn't pull away. In truth, his obsession, while startling to others, made her feel seen in a way she never had before. She was the center of his universe, the eye of his storm.

Megumi pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark, clouded with a hunger that had nothing to do with cursed energy. He leaned down, kissing her deeply, his hands sliding down to her waist to pull her onto his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed.

The kiss was desperate, a silent apology and a claim all at once. Yuki let out a small, shaky breath, her boots thumping softly against the floor as she adjusted herself.

"Megumi..." she breathed out as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down her jawline.

He didn't answer with words. Instead, he found a sensitive patch of skin just below her ear and bit down. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it was firm enough to leave a mark. Yuki gasped, her back arching slightly.

"You're mine," he muttered against her skin. "I want everyone to know that."

He moved to her collarbone, his tongue swirling against the bone before he began to suck, creating a dark, bruised flower of a mark on her pale skin. He was meticulous, moving from one side of her neck to the other, marking her where the high collar of her uniform wouldn't quite reach if she moved the wrong way.

"They'll see," she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut.

"Let them," Megumi replied. He pulled back to admire his handiwork. The marks were vivid, a stark contrast to her skin. To anyone else, they were a sign of a reckless night. To Megumi, they were a barrier. They were a warning to the rest of the world that she was spoken for, protected, and cherished by someone who would burn the world down to keep her.

He laid her back against the pillows, his body hovering over hers. He looked at her—her long hair fanned out like silk, her eyes wide and trusting, her lips swollen from his kisses.

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," he promised, his voice cracking with a rare display of emotion. "On missions, at school... I'm always watching."

"I know," Yuki said, reaching up to stroke his cheek. "I feel safe with you."

Megumi leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. The obsession was a heavy thing, a weight he carried in his chest that only lightened when she was in his arms. He knew the others talked. He knew Shoko probably had a comment ready about his "hormonal imbalance" and that Gojo was likely making jokes behind his back.

But as he felt Yuki’s heart beating against his own, Megumi decided he didn't care about the rest of the world. He would keep her in his shadows, tucked away where the light of other men couldn't reach her. He would be her shield and her captor, and as long as she smiled at him like that, he would never let her go.

The next morning, the group gathered in the courtyard for a mission briefing. The air was crisp, and the sun was bright.

Yuki stood slightly behind Megumi, her long hair pulled forward over her shoulders, but as she reached up to adjust her collar, the fabric shifted.

Yuji, who was standing nearby, choked on his water. "Uh, Fushiguro? Did a cursed spirit attack Yuki’s neck last night?"

Nobara, who had just joined them, leaned in for a closer look and then groaned, rolling her eyes. "That’s not a curse mark, Itadori. That’s just Megumi being a territorial beast."

Maki smirked, crossing her arms. "Damn, Fushiguro. Leave some skin for the rest of the girl, would you?"

Megumi didn't blush. He didn't look embarrassed. Instead, he reached back, taking Yuki’s hand and lacing their fingers together. He pulled her slightly closer, his shoulder brushing hers.

"We have a mission," Megumi said, his voice cool and professional, though his eyes sparked with a silent challenge as he looked at his teammates. "Focus on the task."

Yuki hid her face against his arm, her cheeks burning, but she didn't pull her hand away. She felt the strength in his grip, the silent promise of protection that came with his obsession.

As they walked toward the school gates, Megumi’s hand never left hers. He watched every shadow, every corner, and every person they passed. He was a sorcerer trained to find and eliminate threats, and currently, he treated the entire world as a threat to his happiness.

He knew he was being overbearing. He knew he was being possessive. But as Yuki squeezed his hand in return, leaning her head against his shoulder for a brief second before they reached the car, Megumi knew he wouldn't change a single thing. She was his, and he would make sure the world never forgot it.