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milkloafy · 6 months ago

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TOO LATE TO BE YOUR FIRST LOVE, BUT I’LL ALWAYS BE YOUR FAVORITE — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: megumi has known you since childhood as his sister’s annoying friend. now, years later, he sees you at a nice restaurant and wonders why you’re all alone. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fem!reader, fluff, aged up au, gojo is…here xD, bsf brother / sister’s bsf au, reader wears a dress, megumi checks reader out, reader gets stood up by her ex womp womp… ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 1.9k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: first jjk fic and i’m starting it off with a banger cliche ! i can’t help it okay megumi’s sister is soooo pretty pls by my bsf in another life :3 also ik this title is so long i literally could not think of anything so i was like okay yeah sure let’s listen to miss sabrina carpenter and then bam! here we go i guess!

“Be good to my kouhai, okay Megumi-chan?”

Those were the words that rung through his head as he saw you sitting at a table for two, alone and dolled up in a nice dress with pearls around your neck.

Megumi didn’t claim to be an expert in your life or personal preferences, but from what he did know of you, you weren’t exactly the type to take yourself out on a date all alone. It drew too much unwanted attention towards you that you likely did not want to deal with.

That was something he certainly resonated with.

After watching you pick up your glass of water and put it down five times all in the span of one minute, he almost felt bad enough for you to head over there and take you out of your misery. Unfortunately, an aggravating voice beside him reminded Megumi why he was in this fancy restaurant in the first place.

“Isn’t that right, Megumi-kun?”

“Huh?” he asked, turning his attention back to his own table.

Gojo was leaning forward on the table with a smug look on his face, a look that Megumi learned was never good. Although Gojo had shades on blocking his gaze, Megumi sensed Gojo was looking directly at you.

“I said she’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Megumi glared at the white-haired pervert with an irritated look on his face. “She’s not for you, old man.”

Gojo laughed as he held his arms up innocently. “I meant for you. You’ve been staring at her for a while now. It’s kinda creepy, actually.”

“That’s Tsumiki’s friend,” said Megumi, choosing to ignore Gojo’s comment. “One of her closest. Not sure why she’s here by herself. I just want to make sure she’s not in any kind of trouble.”

“Well, let’s examine the evidence,” Gojo declared, clearing his throat before counting his fingers on one hand. “One, her hair and makeup are done real nice. Two, she’s in a fancy dress. Three, she’s been giving that glass of water a death glare for the past few minutes.”

Megumi raised his brow, unamused. “Okay. And?”

“Your sister's friend over there has just been stood up,” concluded Gojo, leaning against the back of his chair in satisfaction. “Now, if you’re going to do something about it, I suggest you do it before Yuuji and Nobara get here.”

“Why?”

“Do you have to ask? The moment they arrive they’ll follow along behind you and see what you’re doing,” cautioned Gojo, as if he wouldn’t join them in an instant.

Megumi made a face at the thought, but he knew Gojo was right. Itadori and Kugisaki would stick their noses into any and everything that involved him and would somehow find a way to embarrass him yet again.

Standing up, Megumi sighed. “How long do I have?”

“I told them the reservation was for ten minutes ago. So you should have at least twenty minutes now.”

“Thanks,” Megumi grumbled, heading over to your table with an awkward expression on his face. He hoped this wouldn’t embarrass you further, but he could deal with your potential attitude as long as it brought you some comfort.

Though you may be annoying at times with how often you teased him and called him girly nicknames he hated, you were still his sister’s best friend. Helping you save face seemed like the good thing to his sister would want him to do.

“Hey.”

Startled, you looked up from your phone and saw Megumi standing next to your table, his arms folded across his chest.

The moment you met his gaze, your eyes brightened and you waved at him.

“Gumi-chan!” you sang as a greeting, voice too loud for the formal ambiance of the restaurant.

“Shh! Are you crazy?” hissed Megumi, looking around frantically to make sure Gojo did not overhear you calling him that. However, judging by the shit-eating grin on Gojo’s face, Megumi knew Gojo heard and would never let Megumi live this down.

You giggled at his embarrassment.

Megumi huffed. Shouldn’t you be the embarrassed one here?

“Long time no see,” you said, motioning for him to sit across from you in the opposite seat. “What’s little Megumi doing at a fancy place like this?” You paused, gasping in surprise from a story you totally just made up about his situation, he assumed. “Don’t tell me you’re here on a date! I have to text Tsumiki! They grow up so fast…”

“I’m the same age as you,” he mumbled.

You reached over and pinched his cheek. Megumi swatted your hand away. “You sure act younger, though!”

“Shut up.”

Megumi sighed, wondering why he wanted to comfort you in the first place. You seemed just fine to him.

“I’m not here on a date,” he finally replied, hoping you hadn’t yet sent his sister any incriminating texts about his non-existent date. “Gojo-sensei is treating some of his students out for a graduation dinner.”

“Aww! Graduation, already?” you cooed, as if you didn’t also just graduate university this year. “They really do grow up so fast!”

“You can stop talking now.”

You laughed, knowing better than to take his grumpy words too seriously. Megumi was glad he didn’t have to explain that side of himself to you.

“What about you?”

“Me?” you parroted.

“Are you here on a date?”

You slowly brought up your glass of water to you and nodded. “Supposed to be…”

“You’re dating someone new already?” asked Megumi, thinking about the annoying ex-boyfriend of yours you finally broke up with a few months ago.

Hesitantly, you shook your head, toying with the pearl beads on your necklace. “Not exactly…”

He raised a brow, waiting for you to stop being so vague.

“He’s not someone new,” you mumbled, your voice clouded with embarrassment.

“He’s not new?”

“Oh, Gumi! Are you really going to make me say it?” you cried, puffing your cheeks in indignation. “My ex, alright? I was supposed to be on a date with my ex right now. And he stood me up!”

Megumi blinked, his mind jumping through hoops to piece together what you were implying. “Let me get this straight.”

You made a defeated noise of agreement.

“You broke up with your ex, he groveled and begged for your forgiveness, you agreed to go on a date with him for god knows why, and he still stood you up. And now you’re here, sad and alone.”

You groaned, covering your own ears. “It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. God. I’m so pathetic, Gumi.”

“Hey,” said Megumi gruffly. “What would Tsumiki do if she heard you say that just now? You’re not pathetic. Your ex is the pathetic one.”

“You’re right,” you sniffled, nodding at his word. “But I still can’t help but feel that way, though.”

For the first time tonight, he saw a dejected expression cross your face. It always unsettled him to see you unhappy.

“He’s dumb for standing you up.” Megumi rubbed the back of his neck, looking away uncomfortably. “Listen, you deserve someone better than him, okay?”

“Someone like you?” you teased with the start of a grin forming on your face.

Megumi rolled his eyes in annoyance, but deep down, he was glad to see your smile return.

“Eh? Who said you would deserve someone like me?” he retorted.

You giggled, putting your hand over your heart dramatically. “Ouch! You wound me, Gumi.”

He shrugged.

“And here I thought you would feel bad enough for me to finally give me a chance,” you proclaimed with an exaggerated sigh.

“Shut up.”

His short words didn’t disguise the heat from spreading across his cheeks to the tips of his ears. You always toyed with him like that… There was no way you actually meant it, he told himself.

“Hey,” he said, about to suggest something he might later regret. “Instead of sitting here alone, do you want to join me?”

Your eyes widened at his invitation and his ears turned an even darker shade of pink.

“Not alone! There’ll be others there,” he said hastily. “For the graduation dinner, remember? But they won’t mind.”

You tapped your index finger to your chin a few times, as if thinking hard, before agreeing easily. “Sure! Beats being alone. And, just for the record, I would have said yes even if it was just us two.”

Megumi scowled. His poor face wasn’t able to catch a break from all the annoying heat rushing to it. “Let’s go, then.”

As you stood, you smoothed your dress down and adjusted the length so you wouldn’t accidentally flash your ass to those seated behind you. Immediately, Megumi found his gaze wandering to where the hem of your dress hugged your soft thighs. His throat grew dry.

When he managed to tear his gaze away from your body and back to your face, he noticed you looking at him always expectantly, as if waiting for him to explain why the hell he was checking you out for so long.

Megumi cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn’t sound too strained. “It’s a good thing you were stood up, you know?”

“Huh?” you asked in confusion.

“Your ex doesn’t deserve to see how you look in that dress anyway.”

“Oh,” you managed to say, averting your gaze as a bashful look took over your face. This was the first time in ages that Megumi has seen you look like this.

He smiled to himself, savoring the sweet look of shyness on your face. Typically, you were the one teasing him, much to his annoyance. It was nice to get some payback sometimes.

“Thank you, Gumi,” you murmured, fingers toying with the hem on your dress, only making it rise up higher on your thighs.

“Just the truth,” he said with forced nonchalance.

As the two of you approached the table, the contentment Megumi felt was instantly doused when he saw Gojo, Itadori, and Kugisaki all ogling at you with their mouths wide open.

“Oh ho ho! Is this a friend of yours, Megumi-kun?”

“Hey, I’m Itadori!”

“Run while you can! You’re too pretty for him, got it?”

You waved at the table, somehow not scared away by their obnoxiousness. “Hi! And yes, his sister tells me that all the time!” You looked over at Megumi and winked. “But I think he’s just as pretty.”

Megumi groaned as he sat down in an empty seat, putting his head in his hands in exasperation as he heard everyone laughing together. He was already regretting introducing you to his idiot friends.

But as you took a seat next to him, he peered at you through a crack between his fingers, and he couldn’t help but feel pleased at the joyful expression on your face. If it was up to him, that’s the only way you would look.

Along with your shy expression, of course. Megumi would pay to see that again as well.

You met his eyes through the sliver of space between his fingers and grinned at him. His found his worries fading away.

Megumi sighed to himself. Maybe he should thank your scumbag ex for standing you up, after all. Turns out he quite liked your company. Maybe even as more than just his sister’s annoying friend.

As if you were able to read his mind, you blew him a kiss from the seat beside him and his face reddened once more.

Gojo whooped and hollered at the interaction and Megumi felt himself sinking further and further into his seat.

Never mind, he told himself. You were still the pain in his ass that would never go away.

But maybe Megumi didn't want it to.

#megumi x reader #jjk x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fluff #jjk fluff #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #jjk imagines #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader

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noira-l · 3 months ago

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𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

⋆ ★ '𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞' - 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

chapter summary: Megumi awkwardly asks Satoru for help with his first shave after weeks of hesitation. Despite the teasing, Satoru patiently guides him, creating an unexpected bonding moment between them.

warnings: fluff, father / son moment, slice of life, first shaving, hitting puberty, razors, a little cut (blood, just a tiny bit), teasing, Megumi is kinda awkward and Satoru is proud to be a father figure.

author's note: Oke! So! I haven't seen a fic like this anywhere (might be wrong, correct me if so), and I found the concept totally adorable and couldn't resist writing this as soon as the thought popped into my head. Hope you like interactions between them ;3

It had been a long couple of weeks for Megumi.

Every morning, he stared at the mirror, glaring at the small, stubborn patch of facial hair growing on his upper lip and chin.

At first, he tried to ignore it, thinking it might just be a phase, something that would disappear as quickly as it had appeared. But each day, it seemed to taunt him, getting thicker and darker. It was an undeniable sign that puberty, the inevitable storm he’d been trying to dodge, had arrived.

Megumi wasn’t one for asking for help, especially with personal things like this. He liked his independence, his ability to figure things out on his own.

But this?

Shaving?

This was unfamiliar territory, and though he hated to admit it, he needed guidance. He had stared at the razor his guardian had left out on the bathroom counter for a few days, feeling its weight in his hand as he practiced slow, cautious strokes in the air, too nervous to actually try it on his face. The thought of cutting himself was embarrassing enough. The last thing he needed was to walk around with a face full of tiny nicks and razor burns.

After much internal debate, he came to an uncomfortable conclusion: the only person who could help him with this was Satoru Gojo.

That realization didn’t sit well with Megumi. Of all the people to turn to, it had to be him.

Satoru was playful, unpredictable, and never missed an opportunity to tease Megumi about anything remotely personal. The idea of standing in front of a mirror with Satoru beside him, cracking jokes and treating it like some kind of bonding experience, made Megumi cringe. But, as much as he wanted to avoid it, he didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t ask Satoru, he’d have to figure it out himself - and that was a gamble Megumi wasn’t willing to take.

So, he waited.

He waited through the days when Satoru went on missions, or came home so late that he didn't manage to reach him, waited through the long silences when the house seemed even emptier without him. When Satoru was finally home at his normal evening time, Megumi knew he was out of time. He had run out of excuses.

Tonight was the night.

With a mix of reluctance and awkwardness, black haired one found himself standing outside the bathroom door, his hand hovering over it.

Inside, the sound of running water splashed against the sink. Satoru had disappeared into the bathroom minutes earlier, likely getting ready for bed after a long day. Megumi shifted on his feet, internally debating whether to knock or to just turn around and pretend like none of this mattered.

But the patchy mustache on his face wouldn’t let him ignore reality any longer.

He raised his hand to knock, hesitated, then finally let out a quiet tap against the door, barely loud enough to be heard over the sound of water. For a brief second, Megumi hoped maybe Satoru hadn’t heard it, and he could walk away. Maybe he could figure this out some other time, when it didn’t feel quite so embarrassing.

The hope didn’t last long.

There was a pause before the door swung open.

Satoru stood there, relaxed as usual, with a long shirt on and a towel slung over his shoulder. His white hair was still damp from the shower, with a few strands falling sloppily across his forehead. A small smile appeared on his face when he saw Megumi standing with her hands clumsily folded, trying to look indifferent.

"Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brooding teenager." Satoru greeted, leaning casually against the doorframe, he mischief in his voice unmistakable "What’s up?"

Megumi shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the floor before looking up at Satoru with a faint scowl.

"I, uh… I need your help with something."

Satoru raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued "My help? With what exactly?" his grin widened as if sensing the awkwardness radiating off the kid "Come on, spill it. What’s the big deal?"

Eyes lowered to the floor, a faint scowl replacing any response. Megumi let out a frustrated breath, clearly uncomfortable "I… I need to learn how to shave."

For a second, there was silence. Then, predictably, Satoru's grin morphed into a wide, amused smile.

"Oh, this is amazing." he said, unable to contain his laughter "You, Megumi Fushiguro, the kid who broods his way through everything, needs my help with shaving? Oh, this is great. Really great."

Megumi rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest "I knew this was a mistake." he grumbled, turning as if to walk away "Forget it, I’ll figure it out myself."

But before Megumi could take a step, Satoru reached out and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back toward the bathroom.

"No, no, wait, don’t be like that. I’m just messing with you!" he said, though the smirk hadn’t left his face "Come on, let’s do this. It'll be fun."

Megumi frowned, but he didn’t resist as Satoru ushered him into the bathroom.

The space was bright and the counter was cluttered with Satoru's various personal care products, though half of them looked like they hadn't been touched in months. The smell of shower gel was in the air. The older one crossed his arms, looking far too pleased with himself as he eyed the younger one’s face with exaggerated seriousness.

"Alright, kiddo, let’s start by taking a look." the older said with exaggerated seriousness, leaning in to inspect Megumi's face "Ah yes, a fine crop of peach fuzz, right here." he teased, poking lightly at his upper lip.

Fushiguro scowled, batting his hand away "It’s not that bad."

"Relax, it’s a rite of passage." Gojo replied, turning to rummage through the cabinet "Ah, here we go! Shaving cream, razor, aftershave… hmm, now do I trust you with a razor, or do I need to call in a professional?"

"Just get on with it." Megumi glared at him, exasperated.

Satoru chuckled, but didn’t push it further. He grabbed one of many razors in a multipack from the cabinet and handed it to Fushiguro with a grin.

Black haired stood in front of the bathroom mirror, now smeared with a bit of condensation from Gojo's recent shower. The weight of the razor in his hand felt strangely significant, like it was a test of maturity that he wasn’t quite ready for.

Awkwardness lingered, thick and undeniable. Satoru stood beside him, fiddling with his own razor as if this were a casual activity they did every day, his usual playful smirk tugging at his lips.

"So! Just like there are many cursed techniques..." he began, his voice dramatic "... there are also many techniques for shaving. Some are more efficient than others, but today, I’m going to reveal to you my own secret shaving technique."

He turned the faucet on, letting the water warm up before grabbing a washcloth and handing it to Megumi "Okay, first, wet your face with warm water. Opens up the pores or whatever."

He followed Satoru’s instructions, wetting his face, though he still looked like he wasn’t entirely convinced this was necessary.

White haired one then shook the can of shaving cream dramatically before squeezed some into his palm and handing it to kid next to him "Now, the magic foam. Lather it up."

Fushiguro did as he was told, applying shaving cream to his face while Satoru stood beside him, doing exactly the same thing as he did.

"Don’t go too heavy. Just enough to cover your face, but not so much that you can’t see what you’re doing." he spread the foam evenly across his own face, demonstrating as he spoke "See? A nice, thin layer. You wanna feel the razor, not get lost in a mountain of foam."

He felt so awkward, like he was painting his face, but Gojo was watching him with a surprising amount of patience.

"Not bad, not bad." Satoru said, nodding approvingly "But don’t forget the neck, unless you’re planning on walking around with half your face looking clean and the other half looking like a scruffy mess."

"Can you be serious for once?" Megumi muttered, focusing on spreading the cream evenly to his neck as well, trying to remember all the steps Satoru had demonstrated earlier.

Satoru just grinned wider.

"Where’s the fun in that? Alright, now for the tricky part. The razor. You wanna go with the grain, not against it, or else you’ll end up with cuts and looking like you’ve been attacked by an army of tiny knives. That's funny, I had a situation like that in real life!"

Gojo demonstrated by making movements in the air, not yet applying a piece of plastic to his face. Megumi tried to feel with his hand how he should turn the tool, so that it would go as smoothly as the older one next to him.

"Always go slow. If you rush, you’ll look like you’ve been in a fight with a cat and lost. Here’s the trick." Satoru said, lifting the razor and positioning it carefully against his neck.

"Start with the neck. It’s the easiest place to mess up, but also the easiest place to correct." Satoru explained, his tone suddenly more serious, as though he was giving instructions for something far more important than shaving "Just avoid too much pressure on Adam's apple and move slowly."

Megumi watched intently as Gojo carefully and precisely glided the razor down his neck, avoiding the sensitive area with practiced ease. Fushiguro, feeling a little more confident, brought the razor up to his own neck and mimicked the movements.

"Like this?" he asked, his brow furrowing in concentration as he worked alongside the white haired one, both of them standing side by side in front of the mirror.

"Exactly. Nice and steady." Satoru said, casting a sidelong glance at the younger one "Not bad, kid. Now, once you’ve got the neck down, you can move on to more complicated terrain." he watched as Megumi did a few strokes across his neck, he waited patiently for him to finish.

Satoru finished shaving his neck with ease "Don’t forget to rinse the blade after a couple of strokes." he did just that, risning the razor in boiling hot water. Then turned his attention to his chin. He lifted the razor, positioning it just below his lower lip.

"Now we move on to the chin. Gotta be careful here too, or you’ll end up looking like you lost a fight to a particularly angry porcupine."

Fushiguro followed suit, doing his best to replicate the careful movements his guardian was demonstrating. The two of them stood shoulder to shoulder, both razor-clad hands gliding across their skin.

It felt oddly… normal. Like this was something they did all the time, though it was far from their usual interactions.

"You know, I wasn’t really blessed with much facial hair. Genetics didn’t think I needed a full beard to complement my already perfect looks. But who knows, Megumi - you might end up with more to shave than I do."

Fushiguro huffed, concentrating on his strokes "Yeah, lucky me."

Satoru’s eyes twinkled with amusement as he continued to shave "Maybe you’ll be able to pull off that rugged look, huh? The ladies love that. But me, well, everything went into my other attributes." he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Can you just focus?" he nearly nicked himself.

Gojo chuckled "That’s what I should told you, you need to stay focused. Look at that - you’re getting distracted."

Black haired one glanced down and saw that he’d missed a spot on his chin. He muttered something under his breath, but quickly corrected his mistake, his movements now a little more cautious.

Gojo finished faster than him, completely avoiding the cheek area, as he mentioned he had absolutely nothing to shave there, so he washed his face straight away, wiping it with a towel.

Fushiguro, on the other hand, had a few randomly distributed hairs in different areas that he managed to shave off quickly, starting to catch on to how he should direct the blade to get the best effect.

"You know..." his guardian said, leaning against the counter "... you’ll be doing this more and more. Puberty’s a relentless thing. Before you know it, you’ll be shaving almost every day."

Megumi sighed "Great. Just what I wanted."

He was almost finished, but just as he reached a particularly tricky spot, the razor snagged slightly, catching on his skin. He stuttered in his movement, flinching slightly as the blade nicked him.

"Hold up." Satoru said immediately, catching the motion out of the corner of his eye "I told you. You’re not fighting a curse here, no need to rush."

Megumi frowned, frustrated with himself, dabbing at the small cut "Yeah, yeah. I’m fine."

Gojo gave him a knowing smile, though it was softer this time "Just a small nick, no big deal. Happens to everyone the first time."

"Even you?" Fushiguro asked, though there was a hint of skepticism in his tone.

"Especially me. You should’ve seen my first shave. Looked like I went head-to-head with a blender." a wide grin appeared on the pale face.

"I doubt that."

The last bit of cream disappeared from the young teenager's face. He turned on the tap and rinsed off the rest of the little white lines that remained on his face. The towel absorbed the drops of water that ran down his neck.

He glanced at himself in the mirror. Instantly better. Although he reproached himself for the little scratch, Megumi was genuinely pleased with the effect he had achieved. Finally he wouldn't have to be embarrassed at school about how he looked.

Satoru, standing beside him, seemed far too proud.

"Look at that! Clean as a whistle." he said, examining his face with exaggerated approval "Not bad for your first time. But we’re not done yet."

"Huh? What now?" Fushiguro groaned internally, shooting his guardian a sideways glance.

He didn't understand a bit, after all he had just finished, what does this annoying type still want from him? It's enough that he feels stupid sitting here with him anyway, asking him for help.

"The grand finale." Satoru announced, picking up a small bottle of aftershave from the counter. He wiggled the bottle in front of the teen's face like it was some kind of treasure "Aftershave cream!"

"What’s it for?"

Gojo uncapped the bottle, squeezing a small dollop of the aftershave cream onto his palm "It’s for soothing the skin after you’ve shaved, kid. Makes sure you don’t end up with razor burn. Plus, it smells nice - very sophisticated, like you’re someone important."

Megumi raised an eyebrow, unconvinced "You sure it’s not just another way for you to mess with me?"

Satoru gave a dramatic sigh, shaking his head. "You wound me, Megumi. This is the real deal. You’ll thank me later."

He rubbed the aftershave cream between his hands and then gently applied it to his own face, patting it onto his freshly shaven skin with practiced ease.

"You don’t need too much, just a little to cover the areas you shaved. Trust me, it’s important. Otherwise, your face will feel like it’s on fire later."

Fushiguro eyed the bottle warily but took it from Gojo’s hand. He squeezed a small amount into his palm, hesitating for a moment before rubbing it between his hands and awkwardly patting it onto his face like the older one had done.

"Don't rub it in like you're washing your face." the older one said, grinning as he observed his technique "Just tap it on. Light touch. Gotta treat your skin like it's worth something."

Megumi muttered something under his breath, but adjusted his approach, patting the aftershave onto his cheeks and chin. The cooling sensation spread across his skin, soothing the slight irritation left from the razor.

"See?" Satoru said, giving a nod of approval "Nice and smooth. And now you smell like a responsible young adult."

"It’s... strong." black haired couldn’t help, but wrinkle his nose at the scent

White haired laughed, clapping Megumi on the shoulder.

"Yeah, but it fades pretty quickly. Besides, it’s part of the process. Get used to it - you’ll be doing this more and more."

Megumi wiped his hands on a towel, his face still tingling slightly from the aftershave. He looked in the mirror, taking in the results of his first proper shave. He looked good, like his normal self he was used to.

Satoru stood beside him, admiring his own reflection with a satisfied grin.

"Now you’re officially a man. Or at least, a step closer to it."

There was no respond to that, just flicker in younger eyes, as if he realised something.

Satoru grabbed the aftershave bottle and put it back on the counter, then turned to Megumi with a grin.

"Next time, we’ll get into the more advanced stuff. Maybe I’ll even teach you about beard shaping."

"I’m never growing a beard." Fushiguro shot him a flat look.

Gojo chuckled in respond.

"That’s what they all say. Just wait until it sneaks up on you."

The teen shook his head, already done with the conversation, but despite himself, he felt a small sense of relief. This whole shaving thing wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be, and Satoru - teasing aside - had actually been helpful. Weirdly enough, it was kind of nice having him around for things like this.

"Alright, shaving master..." Satoru said, throwing his arm around his shoulders as they left the bathroom "...let’s go show off that baby face to the world. And remember, every time you shave, think of it as another step toward adulthood."

"Pretty sure it’s just a step toward more chores." he snorted in respond.

Gojo grinned "Exactly! You’re getting it."

Megumi, now freshly shaved stood at the door of his bedroom, watching as his guardian stretch his arms above his head with a satisfied grin.

"Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?" Satoru asked, still clearly pleased with himself as he prepared to head to your shared bedroom.

Fushiguro shifted his weight from foot to foot, his eyes flicking down to the floor as he cleared his throat.

"Yeah, it was… fine." he muttered, glancing up briefly before looking away again.

There was a pause, then he added, barely audible "Thanks for the help."

Satoru turned toward him, his grin softening into something more genuine. He walked over to Megumi and gave him a playful pat on the shoulder, though his tone had a rare warmth to it "Anytime, kid. And hey - don't be embarrassed. You did good."

Megumi's face flushed slightly, and he gave a small nod before opening the door "Good night, Gojo."

Satoru smirked, watching him go.

"Good night, Megumi." he called after him, amusement dancing in his voice.

As Satoru lay back on the bed, a quiet sense of softness washed over him.

He hadn’t expected Megumi asking for help with something as simple as shaving to hit him like this. For all the teasing and playful banter, there was something deeper - Megumi was growing up and Satoru felt like he was more than just a protector, guardian or teacher.

He was part of that growth.

And he couldn't be more proud.

tl: @kalopsia-flaneur

#gojo and megumi #years to come #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #years to come series #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo satoru #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #fushiguro #kid megumi #father son bonding #dad gojo

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onismdaydream · 8 months ago

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HIIII!!!!! it's me again, the most obsessed and horniest yuji lover!♡🎀

Didn't have anything to do today so I have been on tumbler looking for any yuji content I can get my hands on :p! And I am just OBSESSED with headcanons, specifically yuji as your boyfriend! AHH!!!

Like, how would he first tell you he likes you? How long would it take? Ugh, now me personally, I can only imagine having a movie night alone, megumi and nobara canceled ofc because they don't want to watch whatever bs movie yuji picks :(. And then so there you are, Both cuddled up on the couch, a little to close together, and he is just.. so flustered! But why? It's not like he likes you or anything! Well, turns out he does and he JUST realized. So when the two protagonists in the romantic comedy yall are watching suddenly confess, he can't hold it back! It just blurts out of his mouth..which would be a bad thing, until you reveal you like him back!♡

Idk, I just find it soo cute, and honestly totally something he would do. 🤷‍♀️. But then like, first date? Would he take you to eat, the movies, or maybe to the mall?

Now this one, I'm not too sure, to many options and I love them all, but he would DEFINITELY make it romantic and cute ><!

Okay, but now like one of the MILLION dollar questions is.... how would he act on your period!

I'm sorry, but every single small headcanon, or fic of how ANYBODY would treat you while ur on your period is straight up Crack to me. I NEED IT. I love the wholesome headcanons. 😔🎀!

I think.. he would notice that your acting different, he cares about you after all so he notices every little thing. So when he sees you look uncomfy or maybe rubbing you hand on your thigh, trying to relieve some pain.. he asks you what's wrong! And when you tell him, I feel like he would IMMEDIATELY do whatever you want to make you feel better. LITERALLY.

"Oh. Really? Is there anything I can do?"

Chocolate? In ur hands the second you ask. Meds for the pain, he's got them? Blanket? YES! cuddles? Okay, is that even a question? OBVI!!!

Second million dollar question is how/what he would do yalls first time. Last headcanon i said was crack, but this one is like all drugs COMBINED. I like to think it would be a makeout session gone to far..

That movie you played has a sex scene, which, really doesn't bother you or him.. or it usually doesn't. Today though, a small thought forms in his brain. How would you look? Sound? Smell? Taste? Feel..? And then it's akward, because you're so close, and his hand just starts massaging your thigh, and he has to kiss you! Which at this point in the relationship isn't like super surprising, I'm sure yuji loves to kiss you. But this one feels different, yujis face is just soo pink, and he almost can't keep his hands off of you! Cupping one cheek while pushing you down on the couch with the other, so he's on top.. then one of his knees pushes your thighs apart.. 🧎‍♀️

You know the rest.

But I also like to think maybe yall are making out, you on top of his lap, but you can't stop squirming! And it really isn't on purpose, you swear.. but yuji can only take so much, And eventually he can't hide his moans anymore!

Yeah idk I feel like humping n shit, maybe cummin in his pants is SO hot. UGH

I don't think it would really be planned..😋🎀

Also, I feel like he would be super flustered and kinda embarrassed with oral. In the sense that, he could spend hours between your thighs (we all know he's a munch), but the first time you ask to suck him off, he probably turns into a whiny mess.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO THIS. Like- I'm sorry, but no matter how dominant or kinky people make yuji, which I won't lie I love, you CANNOT tell me this man doesn't whine or moan your name. You simply can't. LOOK AT HIM.!!! 🧎‍♀️🙏

I just, have so many thoughts and headcanons.. l can't control myself yuji headcanons are literally my drug. I love the subby ones, the Dom ones, fluff ones, smut ones... I DONT CARE. If a yuji headcanon exists, I WILL read it.

Omg, I have so much more but I have already made this soo long. I honestly just wanted to ask if you would ever make your own yuji head canons? Maybe you already have and I can't find it.. BUT LET ME KNOW!

I just HAVE to know what headcanons are floating around in that wonderful brain of yours!♡

Also so glad to see you liked my past rant♡♡!!!

I really hope you have a good day/night!!!! Make sure ur taking care of urself babes bc I can't survive without you><! 🎀

(Also sorry for any typos or whatever, this was 100% rushed because my fingers physically cannot keep up with all the thoughts I have of yuji.)

With a heart full of love, and a brain full of yuji,

-your horniest yuji lover!♡🎀

hi lovely <333

gonna put this under a read more so it doesn't take up too much space!

oooh headcanons are fun!! i don't post a ton, not for any particular reason, i just seem to gravitate towards snippets in established relationships.

omg yuji just blurting it out :(( what a sweetheart! he is mortified but i feel like he would try his best to play it cool, though his face feels like it's on fire from how flushed it is!! but then you tell him that you also like him and he visibly relaxes SO much and has the biggest smile on his face and he immediately wants to hug you and hold you close <3

i think for first dates, he would lean towards movies/mall, this way it's still semi-public. it's not that he doesn't want to spend time with you alone (he wants to soooo badly), but i think he thinks he has to take it slow and be sweet and gentlemanly. like he was definitely taught the "proper way" to court a girl by his grandfather, so he holds doors open for you and pulls out your chair and brings you flowers and stuff and its just so sweet of him idk. he might hesitate a bit for pda stuff, but once you give him the okay, he is constantly holding your hand or wrapping an arm around you!! maybe even asking for a kiss!! (side note: i think yuji gets all pouty when you forget to give him a goodbye kiss later in the relationship)

yes!! yuji would ABSOLUTELY be doing anything and everything for you as soon as he notices any symptoms or side effects. he's also the type to track your period on his phone lol just so he can prepare and give you some chocolate or whatever else might help! he is just like. the nicest and most caring boyfriend ever <3333

OOOH i love love love both of those for first time ughhh!! i have a fic i've been meaning to work on more but i'm just a little too fried to write much of anything, anyway its a dry humping fic with yuji because i just know he loves the feeling of it ! he can't even get embarrassed from cumming in his pants because it feels so good and he likes how dirty it is (he's a bit of a perv :3). BUT i also love the idea that he just can't help himself and he's so wrapped up in the moment that he doesn't even notice that his knee is pressing against your core... like he's licking into your mouth and grinding against you and you have to pull away because holy shit this feels great and you want more!! and it's kinda rushed and messy, barely taking clothes off but you both need each other so bad!!! (he makes up for it by taking his time with you for round 2 lol)

oh what i would GIVE to suck his dick... yuji is 100% super vocal in my opinion, like he cannot be quiet, which is why his mouth is always on you when he's fucking you! he's always kissing or biting or talking, so when you're sucking him off, he is left to just talk and make so much noise. whining and praising you because it feels so good to have your mouth wrapped around him <3 like imagine sitting between his strong thighs, looking up at him, and his eyes are half lidded, mouth open as he breaths heavily, tongue darting out to lick at his lips, muscles flexing as he tries not to force your head further down or buck his hips up.... ugh he's so hot...

i'd love to write more headcanons and other things for yuji!! its just a matter of me getting inspired or having the energy right now. work has been super draining for me so its been a little difficult to get my brain working lol but im hoping it'll pass in a few weeks

thank you for sharing these with me!!! i love hearing other people's thoughts and headcanons like its just so fun to see what's similar and whatnot :3

#.asks #.anon #yuji lover 🎀 anon #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yuji itadori

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skeletorrito · 1 month ago

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One kiss is all it takes

the next part of my itafushi oneshot fic

(( tw for the f-slur and homophobia - sukuna's a hater ))

hope you like it!!!

Yuji still can’t stop thinking about Megumi and it causes him to panic. He becomes hyper-aware of how his teammate interacts with him, how he looks at him, how he talks to him. He doesn’t trust Sukuna’s input, because he wants to trust Megumi’s word, but now, he doesn’t even trust himself.

Another three days pass. Megumi is fully recovered and back to sparring with him, but even that becomes more intimate than he can handle. At one point during training, Yuji pins him to the ground and lingers for a second too long as he stares, stupidly, because the way Megumi Fushiguro looks underneath him is so… different, somehow. He’s noticing features he’d only admired in passing: Megumi’s shiny, navy hair tousled against the turf, his dark green eyes widening and glittering, his soft lips part in surprise as Yuji straddles his chest. Megumi starts to blush as they make eye contact. He looks away quickly with a frown.

Yuji stands quickly, also blushing, offering a hand to Megumi to help him up. He just brushes it aside and gets up on his own, dusting himself off. They awkwardly finish sparring and don’t talk to each other for the rest of the day.

Until Yuji knocks on his door that night.

Yuji has an unmistakably alarming knock that Megumi can identify immediately. He flicks on the lights and opens the door after a few seconds, only allowing his face to peek through. “It’s late. I’m trying to sleep.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I’m just…I’m kinda freaking out, Fushiguro.” Yuji rakes his hand through his dusty pink hair.

Megumi opens his door a little wider, stepping to the side with a sigh so Yuji can enter.

Yuji plops on Megumi’s bed, scrubbing his face with his hands.

“What’s wrong?” Megumi asks in a groan, frustrated, also joining him on the bed. He crosses his arms across his oversized t-shirt.

Yuji talks into the hands covering his face. “This is going to sound crazy, but I don’t even know myself anymore.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I’m not even sure I’m straight anymore, Fushiguro.” He interjects, muffled into his palms. He curls them under his chin and stares at Megumi’s closet as he speaks, elbows resting on his knees. “I mean, girls are hot, like really hot, and I was so sure of that for my whole life but now…” He meets Megumi’s eyes for a second, then shifts his gaze quickly. “I don’t even know.”

“Oh… kay.” Megumi replies, unhelpfully, more stunned than anything.

Is this… because of me? He wants to ask, but keeps that thought, and the confusing feelings associated with, to himself for now. The corner of his lips tug into barely a smile. “I think that’s kinda normal, Itadori.”

“Ya think so?”

Megumi is so out of his element here. He does his best to console Yuji in this moment and push through his own embarrassment. “I mean, it’s not like you have to choose. You can be attracted to men and women… and any other gender out there, for that matter. So stop stressing about it.”

“Wait,” Yuji looks at Megumi again, dumbfounded. “You can?”

Megumi laughs, actually laughs, hard.

It’s the rarest sound in the world.

Now, it’s music to Yuji’s ears.

He wipes a tear from his eye, grinning, “You’re so fucking dumb, Itadori.”

Yuji also laughs, flushing sheepishly, and his honey-brown eyes search Megumi’s face fondly. “I guess that makes sense, yeah… Still, I don’t really know- I mean I’ve never even-” he snaps his fingers as an idea comes to him mid-sentence, “Hey, Fushiguro, would you kiss me? Just so I can know for sure?”

He says it so nonchalantly that Megumi’s reaction is delayed. He pulls back, his forest green eyes going as wide as saucers. “What!?”

“Yeah! I just want to know what it’s like to kiss a guy… and if I don’t like it, then that’s my answer, right?” Yuji explains, like it’s the most reasonable request in the world.

“What kind of insane logic is that?!” He exclaims and flushes. “I’m not doing this.”

“Aw, c’mon, what’s one kiss gonna hurt? You don’t like me like that, right? So it shouldn’t be a problem.” Yuji’s intentions are completely, totally innocent… but they really don’t feel that way to Megumi.

Megumi scowls, gripping the comforter underneath him in anger because of course Yuji puts him in this situation again. He needs to reply, and fast, or risk being called out. It’s just a kiss, after all…. and then Yuji will go back to being his straight, overbearing, jocky teammate, right? It’s just one kiss. He can handle one kiss.

“Fine. One kiss, and then you shut up about this whole thing and we pretend this didn’t happen.” He agrees in a grumble.

“Deal.” Yuji grins, nodding and scooting closer.

Megumi’s gaze flicks back and forth from Yuji’s lips to his eyes, suddenly feeling very small and anxious. A bead of sweat drips down the back of his neck, his fingers gripping the bedspread so tightly it hurt. He closes his eyes as Yuji leans into him, cupping his cheek as he does. Why he feels the need to do that, Megumi doesn’t know, but it’s so very Yuji and Megumi finds an odd, intimate comfort in that.

Yuji’s lips are soft and warm, and feeling them on his own makes his stomach tingle. He returns the kiss hesitantly, the touch of their lips like electricity immediately because…

Yuji is a good kisser.

Like really, surprisingly good.

So, one gentle kiss turns into another deeper, more passionate one. Unanticipated sparks are flying as they smash their lips together, Yuji’s hand slipping to the back of his head and threading through his hair sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. Yuji starts losing himself in Megumi’s mouth, and Megumi lets him because he hasn’t been kissed in what feels like forever… and he certainly hasn’t been kissed like this before.

Yuji slips him some tongue, and Megumi moans softly, but audibly. Hearing himself, he snaps out of it immediately. He breaks off the kiss, pushing Yuji away from him.

“I, uh, I think that’s enough.” He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, flushing wildly. “I’m going to bed. Please leave.” His gaze stays on the floor.

Yuji looks dazed and a little hurt as well. He frowns as he replies, “Kay.” Yuji stands, heading for the door. He doesn’t turn around as he adds, “Thanks, Fushiguro,” before slipping out and walking next door.

So you’re a little faggot too, huh? I’m surrounded by you filthy sodomites. Sukuna’s voice echoes in his head as he throws himself on his bed and curls up under the covers.

Can you fuck off?! Your homophobic comments aren’t helping. Yuji retorts. Why are you so active all of a sudden, you pervert?!

Sukuna chuckles. Me? A pervert? Oh, that’s rich coming from someone who’s about to masturbate while fantasizing about their teammate.

Yuji screams into his pillow, frustrated, “Get out of my head, you asshole!”

A few deep, menacing laughs and Sukuna goes quiet again.

Yuji doesn’t sleep much that night. Megumi doesn’t either.

Both boys are haunted by the kiss they shared and what it means.

One kiss is all it takes, sometimes.

#itafushi #itfs #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #fanfiction #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #i'm having so much fun writing this lol

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wild-jackalope · 3 months ago

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OMG that Virgin!Megumi x Virgin!Reader was so freaking good. I’ve reread it like 3 times alr. Ur writing is actually so good it’s addicting. Since u ate the virgin megumi trope up I wanted to request something similar(ish).

virgin yuji x virgin reader - dating for a long time and slowly trying things out together. I was kinda thinking like a college au and he’s too embarrassed to tell you and you think he just isn’t attracted to you like that but then you eventually tell each other and are relieved your in the same place. And they like start slowly trying things out together and working their way up to taking each others v cards. if that’s weird sry and no worries if you don’t do this, i totally get it.

either way love u and ur writing <333

Thank you so much for supporting me!! I’m so glad you are enjoying my longer works. It means a lot!

Your request is currently in the works, however I’ve changed it up a bit so it isn’t as similar to my last fic with Megumi, so stay tuned for that!

#yuji itadori x reader #jackalope chatter

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seiwas · 1 year ago

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ari!!!! this was soooo adorable 🥺 megs was sooo cute 🥺

ohmgewash ari you already know that what i love most about your writing is your ability to paint a scene, to describe everything!

your words are always so rich and vivid, sometimes i feel like i'm reading through a dictionary 😭 or a thesaurus... (i think a thesaurus is more fitting 😭)

apart from that though, i thoroughly enjoyed how you characterised megumi here 🥺 he's so pookie so cutie so nervy 🥺 and the dialogue you used to convey that too!!! omg it's so megumi 🥺

he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic; maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. <- i love how we just all agree that megumi is so dog boy to the point that he has dog patterned things 😭

the boy behind the counter looks angelic. <- he rlly is. so pretty. UGH

gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger <- i LOVE that you highlighted this because i agree!!!¹

maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of; one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. <- i like how you conveyed how kinda grumpy he is!! bc he rlly is 😭 unless he tells me otherwise, i'd fr think he hates me 😭 you're also so good at zooming in on the microactions!! it's so vivid and paints such a picture!!!

he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. <- and YES omg. i LOVE the way you describe his physical features. it's such a big part for me when it comes to megs fics

when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle. <- I LAUGHED SO HARD AT THIS TOO OMG BC SO REAL 😭 borderline SCANDALOUS i'd say.

he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers; but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane. <- MY GOD he's so cute for this 😭² (peep the candy cane theme too!! i love that!!)

”you can borrow it... if you want to, i mean.”; "yeah. we can... talk. about it. once you've read it. if you want."; ”megumi, my name, i work here.” <- ari that is SO him pls 😭😭 the pauses!! my god²

and OMG idk if it's just me but a part of me wonders if when he says "my sister," to clarify is bc he doesn't want reader to get the wrong impression/think the wrong thing 😭

he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring <- EXACTLY

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth. <- omg pls the way he's lying thru his TEETH LOL no wonder he was so nervous 😭😭

he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love. <- and thiS TOO!!! i think it's one of the sweetest parts of him 🥺 i feel like he resists the very thing he attracts (but he attracts them for a reason!! and it's bc!! these are the people good for him yknow?)

i think he'd be so gentle with handling things too—mostly bc he'd be too afraid of breaking anything. megumi strikes me so much as a guy who has his things lasting years bc of well he takes care of them. would only switch out his phone every 5-6 years or smth and even then the phone's performance is still pretty ok considering how long he's had it.

megumi is such a 'i'd rather die than embarrass myself by saying how i feel' kind of boy 😭 and that puts him in a lot of situations where he holds himself back on certain things 😭 but it's soooo obvious on him!! the flush of his cheeks!! neck!! ears!! everything!! and the awkwardness!! in his pauses!! when he speaks!!!

as per usual!! i will be citing some of my fave lines 🥺 i a kind of liveblogging of my thoughts as i was reading!!!

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen; you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now. <- literally felt this omg jhsdbfs i wouldn't know what to do with myself either

silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth <- i LOVE this line!!!

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind. <- i love the winter theme going through it too!!! your descriptions in the entire fic were so consistently thematic!!! genius!!!

again, that sweet dichotomy; a hint of something gruff, hiding an unmistakable softness. a little like snow. cold to the touch, enough to make you want to stay away, but then it melts on the skin of your palm. turns soft and warm beneath your touch. <- this line is so smart to me too!!!! the usage of slow as a symbolism!! aaaah i am kicking my feet ari!!

another amazing piece by you ari!! sort of like a captured moment!! meant to be tucked away safely!! 🥺 the kind you write in journals, yknow?

the green in your eyes (makes me feel warm inside) ; megumi fushiguro

synopsis; in the comfort of a familiar bookstore, you find a boy. a pretty boy, who’s always reading, who doesn’t speak unless he has to. you’d like to get to know him — and maybe you will.

word count; 4.6k

contents; megumi fushiguro/reader, gn!reader, fluffy!!, lots of pining from afar, bookstore au, no curses au, reader is an overworked student bc uni is beating my ass, gumi is kind of awkward but hes cute <3, gojo mentioned twice (stay safe), can u tell im excited for christmas … :'3

a/n; bookstore employee gumi who hates every single customer except for you is so real to me

(@riaki its here …🙇‍♂️)

he’s there again.

with a decisive step forward, you drag the door open, and the flutter of a bell resounds throughout the bookstore. a precious little jingle, alerting him of your presence.

the boy at the counter gives you a glance. his navy eyes settle on your bundled up figure, and a flicker of familiarity blooms in the scope of his iris, a kind of recognition. something that makes your heart feel like a clumped up little ball of snow.

(oh. it’s you.

you can almost hear the silent words fall past his lips.)

it only lasts for a second, barely even that, your gazes overlapping — then he’s back to reading.

today, you recognize the book in his hands. the hardcover looks just a tiny bit worn, but still well taken care of. well-loved. and it’s a pretty rendition; a butterfly just above the title, snakes crawling on either side, vines stretching out across the scope of the image. there’s a kind of mystique to it. pretty.

wuthering heights, you read off the cover.

a little odd, in hindsight. you’ve only ever seen him read nonfiction. maybe he decided to broaden his horizons?

after a brief moment’s contemplation, your feet begin to move. taking another small step forward, inching closer, while the door falls shut behind you. blocking out the snowfall and colourful lights illuminating the street.

mitten-clad hands go to brush stray snowflakes off your shoulders, as you shift from foot to foot, halfheartedly attempting to warm up your numbed toes. wallowing in the atmosphere of the cozy little bookstore; breathing in the smell of peppermint, the hint of freshly brewed coffee. from the boy, you assume — he’s got his usual mug on standby, a cute little black dog etched into the ceramic. steam rises from it, floating up into the air, and a fragrance of espresso wafts throughout the store.

low christmas music plays from the speakers, barely audible. pleasing to your sensitive ears and tired mind. it’s the usual mix of well-loved songs, for the most part, but then some you haven’t heard before. you can only assume he picked them out himself; pretty instrumentals, or low, gravelly voices, adding to that particular atmosphere simmering around you. nostalgic, a little melancholic.

the boy behind the counter looks angelic.

he always does, when he’s reading — and he usually is. gentle, in the way he turns the pages, awfully delicate, keeping them still between his thumb and forefinger. lips pursed, brows just a tiny bit furrowed. concentrated, immersed. dark eyes trailing over the tiny letters, scanning the ink of the paper, twisting the syllables inside his mind. almost tasting them on his tongue, with the way he wets his lips. they look a little chapped.

for some reason, the sight seems to render you sort of speechless. frozen. like he’s a pretty bluebird seated on your windowsill, chirping softly in the wake of morning, and you’re afraid of scaring him away.

— his eyes meet yours, and you visibly stiffen.

it’s smooth, the motion of his hands. how swiftly he flicks the book shut, placing it face down on the counter with a twitch of his lithe fingers. not before slipping a pretty bookmark in between the pages, lilac-coloured, with flowers embroidered into the silky texture. you wonder if he made it himself.

his voice spills out into the air, a little raspy. deep, but velvety, sending shivers down your spine. he clears his throat, and you watch his adam’s apple bob. ”do you need anything?”

a second passes.

it catches you off guard, the mellow sound of his voice. when you’re so unaccustomed to hearing it. excluding the brief words you’ve exchanged paying for your novels, you’ve only heard it a select few times — mostly from afar, not-so-sneakily listening in on his conversations with the pink haired boy and pretty girl who sometimes come in and never look at any of the books.

(there’s the tall guy with the not-so-seasonal sunglasses, too. but when he enters the store, all you pick up on are usually grumbles and threatening hand gestures.)

but now, that low, low voice is directed at you.

it can’t be good for your physical health. or mental, for that matter. you’re not sure you remember to properly breathe, and you’re almost certain hearts aren’t supposed to flail the way yours is right now.

when the boy behind the counter tilts his head, just by a hair, you’re finally snapped out of your little trance. stumbling for something to say, stuttering out a response, your hands grip at the insides of your pockets.

”well, um — i’m looking for a book.”

a moment passes. the song coming from the speakers changes into an instrumental, kind of jazzy. it’s nice.

”… a specific book,” you elaborate, under your breath. gnawing at your bottom lip, feeling a bit of heat on your ears. clearing your throat, as you step forward, tearing your mittens off with your teeth.

searching for a certain image, your numbed fingertips begin to tap at the cold screen of your phone. the warm air of the bookstore envelops your chilled knuckles, and a shiver runs through them.

the boy watches, silently, as you get closer.

you don’t notice him glancing at your reddened hands, and when you look up to see a glimmer of something displeased in his eyes, you only assume it’s because you’re taking too long. speeding up slightly, you hear a low click of his tongue. his back straightens.

when he gets up from his chair, you notice that he's tall. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him do anything but sit behind the counter with a book in hand, either reading his own or scanning a customer’s.

and, upon closer inspection — he’s maybe just a little bit too pretty for words. smooth, pale skin, a sharp jaw and defined cheekbones, dark eyes that hide a subtle kind of softness. pierced ears, a glimmer of silver on his earlobes, same as the rings on his bony fingers. his nails are painted black, a little chipped. and he’s wearing a big, bright green christmas sweater; one you really can’t imagine him picking out on his own, if his previous all-black turtlenecks and gray sweaters are anything to go by.

while you fumble with the phone in your grasp, the pads of his fingers go to silently tap at the edge of the counter. a rhythmic motion; forefinger, middle finger, ring finger, over and over again.

it’s a little bit distracting. when he moves his hand a certain way, his big sweater sleeve rides up just a tiny bit, showing off the blue veins of his inner wrist. you think you catch a glimpse of a mole or two on his pale skin, and you swallow down a gulp, feeling a little like a victorian man seeing a girl’s ankle.

and then finally, you locate the image in question. swiftly showing him the cover of the book you were assigned to read. he squints a little, blinking drowsily, a flutter of his pretty eyelashes that has your heart skipping a beat.

you clear your throat.

”i’m supposed to read it before christmas break, but i couldn’t find it at our library…” you tilt your head, a little sheepish. ”do you have it here?”

he stares at the screen for just a second more. then he’s angling his head to the left, finger pointing towards a corner of the store. ”it should be over there,” he hums. monotone.

a tentative smile forms on your lips. you thank him, and his eyes find yours.

all he does is shake his head, softly, brushing you off — a silent don’t worry about it. maybe a tad gruff, but you sense an acute gentleness to it. something tender, kind of. or maybe you’d just like to believe the kindness you sense in his eyes is real, more than just a delusion.

but you don’t have time to dwell on it. the boy behind the counter goes back to reading, cradling the spine with his pretty hands. when he tries to grab the handle of his mug, one of the rings on his fingers knock against the ceramic, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

you go to hunt down your own book, still thinking about his voice, how it trickled like honey from out his lips.

the bookstore is entirely empty, tonight. no loud noises drilling into your groggy brain, no people to chatter amongst themselves and disrupt the illusion of peace you gain when you spend time here. a tiny respite, from your studies, from the stress and fatigue that you’ve come to associate with winter. hunting for christmas gifts, finishing late assignments, trudging through the snow. pretending that you have it all together.

but here, none of that matters.

a sense of calm washes over you, as your eyes trail over the books by the science fiction section, and a soft sigh tumbles from your throat. gradually, your hands begin to warm up, and you look out the window.

outside, the world is blanketed by a veil of snow and frost, pure whites and murky grays as far as the eye can see. falling down to earth, smothering everything in a bitter chill. a cold, cold embrace. but when looking at it like this, from inside a cozy bookstore, with a pretty boy by the counter…

it's a breathtaking sight.

little snowflakes descending, dancing in the wind. desaturating your world. if you close your eyes and focus, you think you can almost feel the wind nip at your fingertips, almost taste the fragrance of dried tea leaves and caramel fudge from the tiny shop across the street. almost bask in the green and red of the decorative lights in the skeletal trees, illuminating the city, buzzing with artificial warmth.

(your heart feels light.)

it doesn’t take long for you to find the book you need. keeping it safe and warm between your arm and torso, you walk back to the counter, gaze still lingering on the windowpane. the little snowflakes fluttering about, the glimpses you catch of passerby and their knit scarves in the darkness of the winter evening.

the boy behind the counter is as efficient as ever. he takes the book, fingertips resting exactly where yours just were, and scans it in a matter of seconds. you pay, and he puts it in a plastic bag, handing it to you — all while his copy of wuthering heights sits on the counter, pointedly, as if beckoning you to mention it.

before you can think to stop yourself, you’ve parted your lips.

”is it good?” you ask. finger pointing at his book.

the boy blinks. eyelashes fluttering. once, then twice. he seems a little caught off guard, but still speaks within a split second. almost like he doesn’t even think about the answer. ”yeah.”

a hum buzzes in your throat. you shift a little, from foot to foot, plastic bag in hand. ”i’ve been meaning to read it,” you say, desperate to prolong the conversation, ”but i haven't had much time lately.”

a chuckle slips from your lips. it comes out sounding just a little exhausted.

(he glances at the dark bags beneath your eyes, but you don’t notice.)

”i think i might buy it in time for christmas break, though…” you lift your gaze to meet his own. showing the briefest glimpse of a smile, polite.

he doesn’t return it. lips pursed, silent, gazing at you with slightly lidded eyes. a navy blue, little splotches of a murky green blooming in the corners of his iris. they only appear when you’re this close. soothing, somehow. they’re pretty.

he isn’t saying anything, not a single word, and some part of your heart clogs up like a clump of wet snow. subconsciously, you trap your bottom lip between your teeth, digging into the soft flesh before letting go. cowering a little under his intense gaze.

did you annoy him?

(he probably doesn’t want to talk to you. maybe he thinks you’re hitting on him, or something. are you hitting on him? that doesn’t matter. he must be stressed — it’s holiday season, after all. the last thing he needs is some annoying customer taking up his precious reading time.

gosh, what were you even thinking?)

you’re just about to excuse yourself, mentally berating yourself for forcibly striking up a conversation with an obvious introvert —

when the sound of something sliding against wooden material catches your attention.

you blink.

the boy behind the counter does a little cough. under his breath, clearing his throat. he wets his lips, in what you immediately recognize as nervosity — absentmindedly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers.

”here.”

when you look down, a certain book is placed on the edge of the counter, right in front of you. wuthering heights.

another blink. you look down at the hardcover, and then back up at him, but he’s not meeting your gaze. if you look closely, you think you see a slight flush to his neck, red like a candy cane.

”you can borrow it,” he says. a pause. then he continues, clearing his throat again, a hint of hesitance in his raspy voice. ”… if you want to, i mean.”

”… ah.” is all you can answer. barely a word, more of a weak little hum. an absent tremble of your voice.

outside the comfort and warmth of the bookstore, the wind whistles, digging its claws into the city. tiny whirlwinds of snowflakes dance from street to street, fluttering about joyously. you vaguely pick up on the song from the speakers changing, into a poppy christmas-themed kpop song.

a moment passes.

your muddled mind finally reacts. on instinct, sending little instructions to your frozen limbs. to your heart, face down on the floor, completely useless.

”oh — no, there’s no need!” you blurt out, putting your hands up hastily. waving him off. ”it’s fine, i can just buy my own copy!”

but the boy only clicks his tongue, with that signature furrow of his brows. ”you’re a student,” he states, just a little gruff. but then there’s that kindness. ”you shouldn’t waste your money.”

you’re just about to protest, when he continues. ”besides,” he sighs. ”i’ve already read it. you can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

and again, your instinctual desire is to protest. unsure of what to say, somehow exasperated by his trust. that’s what it is, isn’t it? trust. trusting a stranger, a customer he’s barely even spoken to, not to just take his book and then never return. trusting you to be a decent person. a good person.

isn’t that naive?

something sprouts like a snowdrop in a ridge between your ribs, though, and you know that it’s happiness of some kind. you’re glad, that he has something even vaguely similar to trust in you.

glad that he’s acknowledging you, in a way. your presence, the sneaky glances shared between you. the comfortable feeling that sleeps inside your veins when it's just you and him, silently passing each other by, in a quiet bookstore that feels a little like heaven on earth. a safe haven, of sorts, with no incompetent professors, tight deadlines or numb fingers.

it’s just him, and cozy christmas music, and a pitter patter rhythm of your heartbeat that sounds a little like jingle bells to your muddled mind.

a lump forms in the back of your throat. you gulp it back down, and part your lips. an unsure question spills into the open air.

”are… you really sure?”

”yeah.” he doesn’t even skip a beat. fingers tapping at the edge of the counter, over and over again. another slow moment passes. ”we can… talk. about it.” he coughs into his closed fist. ”once you've read it.”

with a soft furrow of his brows, he averts his gaze. his voice comes out sounding soft, albeit a little rough around the edges. ”if you want,” he adds.

you’re so distracted by the flutter of his long eyelashes that you barely even feel your lips stretch into a smile. your hearts skips around happily within the confines of your ribcage, and you’re worried that you might look a little too excited — but how could you ever hide your joy, when he’s acting so dangerously, uncharacteristically cute?

”yeah!” you blurt, teeth peeking out when you flash him a bright smile. and finally, he meets your gaze. pretty eyes fixed entirely on you.

at your evident enthusiasm, his shoulders seem to relax. the rapid tapping of his fingers ceases, and he opts to simply bite down on his lip — attempting to obscure his own smile. but you see it, anyway; a tiny, tiny smile. the softest little curl of his lips. you’re entirely mesmerized, all the same.

a hand goes to rub at the back of his neck, and he does that cute little cough again, and you wonder if the warmth sprouting in your chest will be enough to protect you from the snowfall on your way back home.

angelic; that’s the impression he always seems to leave you with. you wonder if he has any idea just how pretty he is. if he has the slightest clue. you wonder if you’ll ever be able to tell him, yourself.

you wonder if you’ll get to know him, someday. if you’ll ever get to know the pretty, quiet boy behind the counter of your go-to bookstore, who radiates a softness so palpable you wish you could stay there until spring blooms beyond the windows and melts the frosted glass.

with tentative hands, a little shaky — not from the cold, but the anxious and excited tingle of your bloodstream — you reach for the book on the counter. taking it into your arms, cradling it gently, like it’s so fragile the pages could scatter away if you aren’t careful. with a steady hand on its spine, you begin to flip through the pages, until three little words on the first blank page catch your attention.

without thinking, you repeat the little scribbled down sentence under your breath. hoping for something. more lulls of his voice, maybe, mumbling to yourself but hoping he’ll hear.

”happy birthday, tsumiki…”

the boy stiffens.

a silent beat. then he clears his throat. ”my sister,” he explains, and you hum.

so he has a sister. a tiny fragment of his existence, now known to you, a little piece of trivia. you want to collect them, want to put them all in your pockets and carry them around, like little precious bells.

”megumi,” he blurts out, sudden, and you look up from the book to meet his gaze. ”my name,” he elaborates. and then a pause. ”i work here.”

…

in a matter of seconds, his face reddens. ears and neck slathered over with that sweet cherry hue, blooming across his pale skin. a soft giggle slips from your lips, before you can think to bite it back, and that red hue exacerbates.

”mm,” you hum, an amused smile on your face. eyes crinkling as you look at him, book safe and secure in your arms. ”i've seen you.”

megumi looks a bit like he wants the ground to swallow him whole. squirming slightly, shifting from foot to foot, tugging a little at the sleeve of his sweater. looking into your eyes, and then back at the counter.

it’s sweet. it makes you feel closer to him, somehow. like you aren’t the only nervous one here. like you aren’t the only person in this city who’s a little bit of a mess.

(it makes the sludge piling up inside your brain feel just a little more bearable.)

”… thank you.” you smile. ”i’ll take good care of it. and i’ll bring it right back when i finish it.”

a low hum. megumi brings a hand up to fix his bangs, nimble fingers running through dark locks. absentminded — a nervous habit, maybe? ”don’t worry about it,” is all he says.

unable to fully hide the smile still lingering on your lips, you allow yourself one final inhale — letting that scent of peppermint and espresso invade your mind, soothing every frazzled nerve inside your brain. then you put wuthering heights in your bag, protected and snug, and get ready to leave.

it’s still snowing. if anything, it seems to have gotten worse, enough that all you see when you glance towards the frosted windows are little clumps of snowflakes. obscuring everything else.

just when you’re about to speak, say a little goodbye, a voice spills out into the air.

”… the snow’s supposed to get worse. apparently.”

his navy eyes carry a gentle hue, as they look into yours. maybe a little worried, like a protective mother wolf towards her cub. you blink, and megumi sees it as his cue to continue.

”you can stay until it gets better.”

a brief pause. his signature cough reaches your ears, and it’s enough to have you smiling, even before he adds a tiny if you feel like it. nonchalant, or at least you think that’s what he’s going for. he mostly just sounds like an awfully caring person trying awfully hard to appear uncaring.

and again, a little smile slips itself into the curl of your lips. all giddy and nervous, a little flustered. but happy. now you won’t have to walk through the relentless snowfall outside, feel the wind chew at your reddened cheekbones. now you can spend just a bit more time with him, bask in those quiet, drawn out moments of pure peace, browsing through books while he sits and reads behind the counter.

”thanks,” you breathe. adjusting your knitted scarf. ”i think i'll look at the books a little more, then.”

megumi’s eyes soften. relieved, you think. hope. it’s a subtle shift, but still enough to notice, enough to see. little splotches of a mossy green sinking into that sea of ink blue.

you think he must feel a little embarrassed, though. like he’s gotten too close to broaching the line he’s set up between the two of you. because he quickly fixes his gaze entirely on a book in his hands, a new one — was it just waiting beneath the counter?

you don't think much of it, but you note that he's back to his usual nonfiction. something on astronomy, you think.

and with one final glance at his tousled hair, you begin to stroll through the store. languidly, walking to whatever spine captures your attention. savouring the tiny words on the back of the books, wallowing in the peppermint and espresso that wafts through the air, only growing heavier while you’re busy admiring the white opaque frosting of the windows’ glass.

at some point, the low whirring of a coffee machine buzzes from afar, and when you turn to the counter megumi isn’t there.

a little later, when he comes back, he’ll be carrying two mugs — matching dogs etched into the ceramic, one black and one white. he’ll put one of them on the edge of the counter, closest to you, and then meet your eyes. give a vague nod towards it, but nothing else. you’ll notice the red tint to his ears, though.

and when you do, a warmth will blossom in your chest, enough to chase away the phantom ache of the winter chill soon to envelop you.

when the little bell of the bookstore jingles its jolly tune, and the door shuts itself as you cross the threshold to leave, megumi lets out a barely audible sigh.

he thinks his heart may be beating just a smidge faster than usual, a little out of rhythm. palms against the counter, he allows his eyes to flutter shut — trying not to acknowledge the heat he feels on his face when he finally begins to process your interaction.

he smooths a hand over his face, skin just a little sweaty. chewing at his bottom lip with two sharp teeth.

god.

really, it was no more than a stupid twist of luck. that you happened to come in just when he started reading it, that you noticed and didn’t question him on any of the contents. that you believed him when he said he’d already finished it.

and, sure, maybe he was secretly really hoping you’d come in. really hoping you’d notice it, that it’d be enough to make you strike up a conversation with him, something, anything.

he happened to see you eyeing it once, that’s all. twice, and then thrice, each on different occasions. tsumiki’s old collection came in handy, rotting on the dusty shelves of her room — although he has no memory of her ever reading it.

(he remembers some, though. remembers her reading a few of them to him, on nights he couldn’t sleep. remembers the soft lull of her voice, how the whole world seemed blanketed by a wool of safety.

he wonders if he’ll ever get to hear it again.)

megumi’s heart feels warm. despite everything.

even though he didn’t even get past the first half of wuthering heights, and has no idea what the hell he’s going to be able to talk to you about. even though he thinks heathcliff is a dick and catherine is a brat, and wishes they could save everyone else the trouble and just talk to a psychiatrist.

even with the cold baring its fangs outside, and the cup of espresso sitting right in front of him, still untouched, made with the store’s shitty coffee machine. even in the ugly sweater gojo forced him into. even though he doesn’t even really know you, not even at all, and still somehow feels certain that you’ll come back with tsumiki’s book in tow.

trust.

megumi thinks it’s a little weird, how just that single overlapping of your gazes when you first stepped in seemed to solidify such an abstract notion. he’s always had a sense of it, though — a sense of goodness. an ability to seek them out, those good people, bubbly and cheerful and so tragically hard not to love.

no matter where he goes, he ends up finding them. like tiny sunflower seeds persisting beneath the winter snow. blooming when spring comes around, in a burst of golden vermillion.

resting his jaw on the heel of his palm, megumi allows himself to wallow in the solitude of the bookstore. tired eyes soaking up the words on the pages he flips through, slowly, utterly at ease. drinking his shitty coffee, trying to ignore the itchy feeling of the sweater on his skin, unable to forget the memory of your stupidly pretty smile.

so pretty he thinks it might just keep him warm, all throughout winter, until you return once more. bringing with you the glimmer of snowflakes on soft skin, and a pleasant fragrance of tea leaves from the cozy shop across the street.

a single sunflower, persisting even through the cold.

megumi smiles. a tiny curl of his chapped lips, while he flips the pages of his book. content in the knowledge that this won’t be the last time he speaks to you.

(now he just needs to read up on some good papers on wuthering heights.)

#pls read this #megumi is soooo cute here 🥺#aaaaah another amazing one by you ari!! (ofc it is. its by you. ofc it is)#jjk #megumi

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maadorii · 4 years ago

Text

you’re gonna wanna be my best friend— y. itadori x gn! reader

max.note’s: this is my child, my baby and i love it. probably my favorite fic i’ve ever wrote uwu i think the ending is bit rushed but that’s i was writing this at 4am (i’m also trying out a new layout-ish so yea)

synopsis—where you and Itadori came up with the greatest, yet stupidest idea in your lives: getting married to lower your tuition cost. what could go wrong? well, there’s getting caught by the government, and then there’s potentially falling in love with your best friend.

warning/tags: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, characters aged up (18+), high school/college au, modern au, fluff & crack, megumi is the only one with a working brain cell

w. count— 3.1k

“yuuji, what’re we gonna do!?” you exclaimed, pacing around the open space of said boy’s bedroom. itadori groaned loudly from his spot on his bed, tugging at the skin underneath his eyes with him.

looking down at the bright, bold red letters of the opened email on your phone screen, you internally cried to yourself, because… fuck. this is what all the hard work all four-years of high school led up to?

25, 580 dollars worth tuition left to pay, out of pocket.

“i don’t fucking know. ...wait, do you think megumi would have an answer?” he perked up at his own, and quite frankly, idiotic idea like an excited puppy. if you squint you can see a tail wagging behind him. turning around to look at the pink headed boy, you practically leaped across the room to slap him repeatedly upside his head.

“ow– hey... ouch! what the fuck?!” itadori whined, lifting his arms up to shield himself way from your merciless assault. “yuuji, are you dumb? we cannot, for the love of god, ask megumi. he’ll probably tell us to apply for a loan or something.” you snapped.

“we’ll do that then, it can’t be that hard.”

“have you seen your credit? there’s no way we're getting approved for a loan.” you exasperated as you folded your arms across your chest, plopping yourself down next to itadori. and the both of you were left to sit in condemning silence that laid itself like a thick, winter blanket over you. itadori could’ve sworn he heard the gears turning in your head because of the stark silence.

you suddenly gasped, jumping to your feet. it was almost like a lightbulb went off on the top of your head. itadori gaped at you as your eyes lit up like stars, turning to him, it was your ‘aha’ moment. the biggest smile he’s ever seen on your face. he couldn’t help the tinge of nervousness settle in the pit of his tummy, probably for good reason.

“here me out– what if we got married?”

you and itadori meet in the lunchroom on the first day of school your freshman year of high school.

to say you meet by pure coincidence is actually a perfect explanation to describe what really went down. you remember how you sat alone at the lunch table, scrolling through your phone on social media when all of a sudden a rather energetic boy with pink hair crashed into your table. face planted in your bowl of greek yogurt. and it was the fancy kind too.

the cafeteria around you erupted in laughter at the... spontaneous display happening before you. and although you wanted to laugh (in all honesty, it was funny), the boy below hasn’t moved an inch. truthfully, you were worried.

“hey, um, are you okay?” you asked, nudging the top of his head. itadori didn’t show any sign of getting up. you nudged him a little harder, shaking his shoulder. with a gurgled grunt, itadori lifted his head from the bowl and the first thing that caught your eye was the crimson colored blood smeared along the stark white of the yogurt. there was a delirious look in his eye as if he wasn’t completely there in the real world. the laughter has long since died down, only a few strangers coming up to the table to record the aftermath.

when itadori came to, he peered up at you through his yogurt clumped eyelashes and he felt his heart tighten considerably in his chest.

“you okay? you’re... bleeding, a lot.” you asked again, gesturing to the entirety of his face. he didn’t say anything as he wiped around his nose, seeing the blood covered dairy. he looked mortified, now catching onto the stares and cameras by nosy teenagers being shoved in his face. reacting quickly, you reached out to one his unoccupied hand, gently guiding him in the direction of the nurses office. your footsteps echoed as you walked down the empty hallway, itadori following close behind you. neither of you said anything during the trip, nor when you entered the nurse’s office. it wasn’t until you had a warm wash rag against itadori’s cheek, wiping away the food and blood mixture, that he finally said something.

“i’m... sorry, for ruining your lunch...” you stopped in your tracks, left to ponder in your thoughts. he’s sitting here with a busted lip and a shattered dignity... and he’s apologizing for face planting in your yogurt?

“hey, you have bigger things to worry about. so, what’s your name?” you continued to wipe at his face, waiting for him to reply.

“yuuji itadori.” and you saw the slightest glimpse of a smile tugging at the corner of his rosy lips. you returned the smile, teeth showing.

from then on, you two were joined at the hip. there wasn’t anything you didn’t do together.

there was something about itadori that brought out the inner child in you. he was sweet, loyal and compassionate. he was a lamp to a moth– hard to resist. hard to ignore. he was your first taste of an easy going life, being able to enjoy being a kid.

on the other hand, you were the foundation he needed. you were open minded, authentic and grounded. you were the first thing in itadori’s life that felt stable. obtainable. your ambition turned into his drive; he wanted to be by your side for as long as possible.

you both were something– somebody, each other needed the most. it’s like what they say: the best people in your life come when you need them the most.

“are you two dumb or something? now, i expect this kinda thing from yuuji, but not you.”megumi quipped, left eyebrow arched in concern as he gestured towards your direction with his pencil. nobara in a similar state next to him, working on the worksheet the teacher handed out earlier. it was currently mid-way through the school day, you, itadori, megumi and nobara sat at your assigned table in statistics. it’s been about a week since your discussion with itadori about your... rather brilliant idea.

“well, that’s harsh.” itadori grumbled, flipping him off. megumi snorted as he returned the gesture. “okay, now listen! they’re explaining the thingy.”

you cleared your throat, sitting up straight to try to make yourself look dignified. “when applying for financial aid, if you’re married, we’ll be considered an independent on the document. meaning? more money!”

“okay, well that’s great and all but, you do know you’ll be responsible for each other legally? as in, medical and money expenses. what would you do if either one of you dies? ” megumi questioned. you chuckled, wrapping your arm around itadori’s neck. “i’ve been legally responsible for him since freshman year, what’ll be the difference?”

megumi rolled his eyes, burying his head in his hands. “god, you’re both so helpless.”

“you know what megumi? i hope both sides of your pillow are warm when you go to sleep tonight.” itadori gasped in shock, hand reaching up to grip the cotton fabric of the shirt he was wearing. nobara snickered behind her hand to which megumi prompted to shift in her direction, whispering something along the lines of “don’t encourage them!”

“(y/n)! you did not just say that!?”

“i sure as hell did. and i’ll say it again!” you snapped your fingers, jutting out your hip. “and they’ll say it again!” itadori said, copying your actions.

megumi and nobara only watched in pity as the two of you continued to embarrass yourself in the middle of the classroom, other classmates turning to catch a peak of the commotion.

“wait, i got one, i got one! ahem, i hope you pour yourself a nice, big bowl of cereal of— what do you eat? apple jacks? only for there to be no milk!”

you sputtered out a laugh, pounding your fist on the table. itadori was loud with laughter as well, body slung over the back of the chair.

megumi sighed, picking up his pencil to erase a mistake he spotted on his paper. he watched as the eraser smudged the lead on the paper instead of actually erasing it. watching the scene unfold before you, wheezing out another laugh, and clutching on to your stomach for relief.

“shut the fuck up, the both of you.”

graduation was only a month away.

teachers were cramming review lessons left and right. completing any last minute work to turn in. senior activities, trips, prom, and getting ready for what was to be the biggest day of your life. where all your hard work and putting up with the shitty ass public school system for 13 years will finally pay off.

at least that’s how they make it seem.

itadori was currently sitting in megumi’s living room, sprawled out on the floor like a starfish. his political science textbook laid open next to him. he’s been unusually quiet this afternoon, megumi noted when he would glance up from his own textbook in his lap.

“hey, yuuji? something the matter?”

itadori didn’t respond right away, instead, he shifted himself closer to megumi to lay his head on the other boy's lap. caught surprised by his actions, megumi tried to shove his head off but itadori being the stubborn man he was wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“god, you’re so annoying—“

“then why are you still friends with me?” his words were quick and sharp like a kitchen knife. and megumi had to take a second to pause. “is this what this is about?” itadori still hasn’t said anything, his body curling in on itself. eventually, he shook his head no.

“alright... then what’s wrong?”

megumi watched as itadori twiddled with fingers, reluctant to share his feelings with the other male. you see, the thing is that although megumi and itadori have been friends since middle school, they found it hard to share each other's feelings. especially megumi. they’ve always been the “i don’t know how to talk about my feelings so let me enjoy your company for a while?” type of friends. except for that one time.

“it’s just... i’m not so sure if i want to marry (y/n) anymore...” megumi could barely hear what itadori said, but he caught it. and color him surprised. “have you finally come to senses that it’s a stupid idea?”

“no, it’s not that–” megumi sighed internally, “–it’s just, what if our relationship changes after it’s finalized? we planned to do it after graduation a-and– it’s just a really scary thing to think about.” itadori’s voice began to warble, and megumi could feel his body tremble as the boy beneath tried to hold in his tears.

in all the years they’ve known each other, itadori has only cried once in front of him. and that was the night of his 16th birthday. because itadori didn’t come from the best home, and at the time, only megumi knew of such disclosed information.

“they said it themselves, you guys have always taken care of each other. so why do you think it’ll change things?” he gently tried to coax itadori into calming down, his hand stroking the soft tufts of his hair. thumb caressing his buzzcut. itadori sniffed, and megumi can hear the disgusting sound of snot being sucked back in his nostrils, but he refrained himself from reacting.

“b-because, i just don’t want my feelings to get in the way, ya’ know? this is simply supposed to be platonic, but it isn’t anymore. at least for me.”

and right then and there, megumi’s suspicions were confirmed. itadori did have feelings for you. more than what a best friend should have. “your feelings? and what might these feelings be, yuuji?”

“that i want to spend a very long time with them, by their side. but not as their best friend. something more than that.” he let out a shuddered exhale, and the room was engulfed with silence. megumi took this time to process what itadori said, the last four words resonating in his mind.

something more than that.

megumi shifted itadori’s body off his, moving to sit up on his own. and that’s when he saw his face for the first time; his red-brimmed eyes and how the tears clumped his willowy eyelashes together. the tremble in his lips because, damn, he’s trying so hard to hold it in.

he didn’t have anything to say– there wasn’t much to say to begin with, but megumi wrapped his arms around itadori in a hug. he felt him relax against his body, taking in the cool scent of his sweater.

“it’s okay to be scared, yuuji, but i believe... you’re smart enough to make the right decision.”

standing underneath the blazing summer heat, you stood in front of the court house waiting for itadori to show up. today was supposed to be the day, where you and itadori were to be married. it’s been thirty minutes and no itadori in sight. which is unlike him considering that he is, surprisingly, very punctual. he hasn’t even responded to any of your texts or calls, which also isn’t very much like him.

but those thirty minutes turned into an hour, that soon turned into two hours.

and to say you were angry, was a complete understatement. you were livid. and that’s how you found yourself banging on itadori’s front door, ignoring the stares of the noisy next door neighbor peeping through their window.

“yuuji! open the fucking door! i know your ass is in there, i can see your minecraft lamp turned on from your window.” you shouted, breathing heavily through your nose. there wasn’t an immediate response, only dead silence, which prompted you to raise your fist to go another round of beating up the door until the faint sound of footsteps reached the door. opening with a creak.

there stood the man of the hour, yuuji ita- fucking- dori.

“there you are! dude, what the hell happened? why didn’t you show up at the courthouse today? did you forget or...” you were quick to jump the gun, bombarding him with questions left and right.

“no... i didn’t forget.” was his reply, eye downcast to look at his sock clad feet. anywhere but your face right now.

“then what yuuji? what could’ve been so important that you decided to just forget?” you flayed your arms around like a mad man, the anger rolling off your body in waves. you knew that you weren’t necessarily being fair to him right now, you can tell by his stand-offish attitude since opening the door. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

itadori was reluctant to answer, his legs wobbly with the anxiety running rampant in his system. he was tempted to say sorry and be done with this, but then he remembered megumi’s words.

...you’re smart enough to make the right decision.

“because... because this isn’t a good idea anymore.” now you’re more confused than angry.

“what do you mean this isn’t a good idea anymore,” you asked, placing your hand on your hip. “that's not what you said 4 months ago.”

itadori sighed, starting to feel the twinge of annoyance in the tips of his fingers. he was starting to regret his choice of words. “i know what i said 4 months ago. but now 4 months later, i’ve changed my mind.”

you wanted to laugh, but you couldn’t muster a bubble of it in your system. was he for real right now?

“oh really? and why do you say that?”

“it’ll change everything.” the reply was short. straight to the point.

“what? no, it won’t! don’t be silly, we’ll still be best friends!” you try to muse, but itadori wasn’t budging. his face was disdained, detached from the world. the answer was sitting on the tip of his tongue, but he wasn’t ready to say it. especially in front of you.

taking in his physique, your mind started to slow. you didn’t want to go there but you couldn’t help it. it was only natural, right?

he’s been off putting since the graduation ceremony two weeks ago. he was so bright and happy that day, shoving his diploma in megumi’s face a numerous number of times. you remember the scream he let out when your name was called to walk across the stage of the arena. how embarrassed you felt as you did so, but a twinge of giddy happiness filled your chest. because he was calling out your name. your heart always did leap with joy when his attention was on you, and only you. the way he had you wrapped around his finger, without him even knowing. it takes you back to when you two first met, how you were so captivated by his amber eyes. the sudden urge to be there. to always be there and to be more.

so... “do you not like me anymore? is this what this is about now?” it came out a whispered, and itadori was shocked nonetheless. now what were you talking about?

“what, no! of course i still like you!” you almost laughed at how quickly he responded.

“then why? why did you–”

“i just didn’t want to make things awkward between us! i didn’t want to ruin our friendship with my... stupid feelings.” glancing up, you can see the slightest tint of pink on the roundness of his cheeks. awkward? ruin?

you took a step forward, your hand reaching to hold his. kindly, thumbing his knuckles with your thumb. the way he always liked it.

“yuuji, your feelings are never stupid. i’m your best friend–” with a frustrated huff, itadori ripped his hand away from yours.

“but that’s the thing though! best friend this and best friend that– what if i don’t want to be your best friend anymore, hm? what if–” make the right decision, “what if i want to be more than that?”

more than that?

“you want to be more than friends? is what you’re saying.” itadori can almost feel himself shit his pants.

that giddy feeling that always erupted whenever you were around him expanded ten fold. you’ll be damned: your best friend of four and a half years, was in love with you. the smile that you struggled to fight bloomed with mirth on your face. and itadori followed suit, reaching out to hold your hand once more.

not much needed to be said, the smile on your face was enough for him to put it all together. for once, he was actually smart enough to make a decision. a good one at that.

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