˖ ݁♬⋆.˚𝄞.

                          ⸝ 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑘𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑙 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟.

                         𑣲┆𝑦𝑎𝑧, 𝑥𝑖𝑣, 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑎𝑛, 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑚, 𝑠ℎ𝑒/ℎ𝑒𝑟 ˚.⋆ֹ

𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑝𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑗𝑜ℎ𝑛 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟. ❞

⊱ ۫✧ 𝒎𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒎𝒊´𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓◞ 𝒈𝒊𝒚𝒖𝒖´𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍◞ 𝒂𝒌𝒊'𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆◞ 𝒚𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒅𝒂´𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍◞ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒍𝒚𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚.

── ⟡ ˙ 𝓂.𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ᭡ 𝓂ℴℴ𝓉𝓈 ᭡ 𝒹𝓃𝒾 ᭡ 𝓈ℴ𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓈 ᭡ 𝒶𝓃ℴ𝓃𝓈 ! ̟ ⊹

#best viewed on pc .

🗯

❝ 𝐴𝑚 𝐼 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑠? 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒, 𝑎𝑚 𝐼 ℎ𝑜𝑡 ? …

𑣲⋆｡˚ 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑌𝑢𝑢𝑗𝑖 𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑒

Teaching you how to play Fortnite had been Yuuji's idea.

In hindsight, that was his first mistake.

His second mistake had been assuming he'd be better than you.

"Okay," Yuuji said, dropping onto the couch beside you with all the confidence of someone who had never experienced failure. "The most important thing is landing somewhere quiet."

You nodded.

"Got it."

"And don't just run at people."

"Okay."

"Actually, that's probably the biggest one."

The loading screen disappeared.

A few seconds later, both of your characters were falling through the sky.

Yuuji continued explaining things as you landed.

What weapons to pick up.

How shields worked.

Which areas were usually crowded.

You listened carefully, occasionally asking questions while trying to figure out where everything was.

For the first few games, things went exactly as expected.

Yuuji won. You died. Repeatedly. Sometimes embarrassingly fast.

Once, you accidentally jumped off a cliff while trying to open your inventory.

Yuuji laughed so hard he nearly fell off the couch.

"This game is stupid."

"You're just bad."

"I've been playing for twenty minutes."

"Exactly."

You threw a pillow at him.

Over the next few days, however, something changed.

Yuuji noticed it almost immediately.

It started with your aim.

Then your movement.

Then your ability to somehow find every useful item before anyone else.

By the end of the week, the situation had become concerning.

For him.

"How did you do that?"

You shrugged.

"I shot him."

"I saw that part."

The enemy player had barely appeared before you'd eliminated them.

Yuuji stared at your screen.

Then at his own.

Then back at yours.

Suspicion filled his face.

"You've been practicing."

"Maybe."

"You have."

"Maybe."

The grin on your face answered the question for him.

Yuuji groaned.

Over the following days, things only got worse.

You started surviving longer.

Winning more games.

Actually carrying matches.

At first, Yuuji had been proud.

He really had.

Watching you improve had been fun.

Until the improvement became a threat to his ego.

Now every gaming session felt like a personal attack.

"You stole my elimination."

"You were getting shot."

"I had it handled."

"You were literally losing."

"I wasn't."

"You were screaming."

"I was strategizing."

You laughed.

Yuuji pouted.

The sound alone should've warned him.

Because whenever you laughed like that, it usually meant he was about to be humbled.

Again.

Sure enough, twenty minutes later, you ended up winning the match almost single-handedly.

Yuuji watched the victory screen appear.

Silently.

The room grew suspiciously quiet.

You turned toward him.

"...Yuuji?"

Nothing.

"Yuuji."

Still nothing.

"You okay?"

Slowly, he lowered his controller.

"No."

The answer came far too quickly.

You immediately started laughing.

"You're actually upset."

"I'm not upset."

"You sound upset."

"I spent months learning this game."

"And?"

"I taught you."

"Thank you."

"And now you're better than me. After just a few weeks!"

The accusation hung in the air.

You considered pretending to feel bad.

For approximately three seconds.

Then you failed.

Completely.

Yuuji buried his face in a cushion.

The dramatic little traitor.

"You'll recover."

"I don't think I will."

"You definitely will."

"This is devastating."

The smile on your face only widened.

Across the room, Yuuji pointed at you without even looking up.

"You know what the worst part is?"

"What?"

"I can't even blame anyone."

A pause.

Then a defeated sigh.

"You're just annoyingly good at everything."

That felt suspiciously close to a compliment.

You decided not to let him take it back.

If u do

I'm asking for a silly little fic of Megumi where the reader and him were enemies before and now are dating, and fighting playfully w each other over silly stuff🥹🤞🏻

—💍🪻 anon

❝ 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒇𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓 …

°˖➴ 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑖

Dating Megumi Fushiguro was surprisingly similar to being his enemy.

The realization hit you about three months into your relationship, after Nobara had watched the two of you argue for nearly twenty minutes over whose fault it was that you missed a train.

It hadn't even been a real argument.

At least, not by your standards.

To everyone else, however, it had looked concerning.

"You know," Nobara had said afterward, "most couples don't bicker like they're going through a divorce."

The worst part was that she wasn't entirely wrong.

The thing was, you and Megumi had never really figured out how to stop challenging each other.

Years of competing during training, disagreeing during missions, and generally getting under each other's skin had become second nature. Getting together hadn't magically erased that. If anything, it had made it worse.

Now there were feelings involved.

Which somehow made every interaction ten times more irritating.

And ten times more enjoyable.

It was a problem.

A problem that currently involved a convenience store and a chocolate bar.

"No."

You stared at Megumi.

Megumi stared back.

The chocolate bar remained firmly in his hand.

"Why not?"

"Because I said no."

"That's not a reason."

"It is."

"It literally isn't."

The entire disagreement had started because he'd picked up a chocolate bar while waiting in line. You had casually mentioned that he liked that brand.

Then he'd decided you didn't deserve it anymore, after kicking him in your sleep last night.

There had been something annoyingly confident in your voice. Like you'd already assumed he'd at least share.

Naturally, that meant he wouldn't.

Now the two of you were walking back toward the dorms while you followed beside him with the patience of a man dealing with a particularly difficult child.

"You bought two."

"Observant."

"You don't even like chocolate."

"I might start."

"You won't."

"I might."

"You won't."

You certainty annoyed him more than it should have.

For a moment, the conversation dissolved into silence.

Comfortable silence.

The kind neither of you ever acknowledged.

The late afternoon sun stretched across the pavement ahead of you while students drifted around campus in small groups. Somewhere nearby, someone was laughing. The familiar sounds of Jujutsu High blended into the background, easy to ignore after spending enough time there.

You stood beside him, shoving your hands in your pockets and pouting.

A smile threatened to form on his usually stern face.

"You want it that badly?"

"No."

"You looked at it."

"I didn't."

"You did."

Megumi sighed.

Not dramatically.

Not annoyed.

Just the quiet, resigned sigh of someone who already knew he was going to give in eventually, simply because it's you.

For all his stubbornness, Megumi had always been surprisingly easy to read. Maybe not to everyone else, but to you.

You noticed the small things.

The way he avoided eye contact when he was embarrassed.

The way he got quieter whenever he cared too much about something.

The way he pretended not to want things rather than admit he did.

Years ago, those habits had driven you insane.

Now they were strangely endearing.

You hated that.

A little.

"You're staring."

Your thoughts immediately vanished.

"So are you."

"I wasn't."

"You literally just looked at me."

Megumi rolled his eyes.

"You make everything difficult."

The laugh that escaped you was automatic.

"So I've been told."

"Repeatedly."

"Yet here you are."

That earned you a look.

Not an annoyed one.

Not really.

Something softer.

Something that would've been impossible to imagine back when the two of you could barely survive a conversation without trying to prove the other wrong.

For a second, neither of you spoke.

Then, before he could stop himself, Megumi sighed, and held out the chocolate bar.

You blinked.

"What?"

"Take it."

"You said no."

"I changed my mind."

Suspicion immediately crosse face.

"You definitely did something to it."

"What? No."

"You did."

"I didn't."

"You absolutely did."

Offended, he tapped you atop the head with the bar. You whine, rubbing the spot with an increasingly more irritated look on your face.

"Hurry up," he says, doing it again, but notably softer than the last time. "before I change my mind. Take the damn chocolate."

Your change in expression was almost immediate, and you grinned.

Perfect.

"See? Happy now?"

"You're annoying." you mumbled, trying to hide the clear satisfaction on your face with a scowl. "Took you long enough..."

"That's not what I asked." he says, rolling those stupid pretty green eyes of his.

A pause.

Then another sigh.

This one significantly fonder than the others.

"Yeah. Thanks." You say, seemingly reluctantly.

He gave a rare smile. Megumi shook his head, but he didn't argue back this time.

And somehow, despite all the complaining, despite the endless bickering and pointless arguments, that felt suspiciously close to a win.

-🐈‍⬛ anon

𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠 !!

𑣲⋆｡˚ 𝑏𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑢𝑚𝑖 !

Megumi had agreed to bake with you exactly once.

That was his first mistake.

"What do you mean you've never made cookies before?" you asked, staring at him from across the kitchen island.

Megumi looked genuinely confused.

"I've never needed to."

"You've never wanted to?"

"No."

You placed a hand over your heart.

"That's devastating."

"It's really not."

"It is."

Megumi sighed, already regretting every decision that had led him here.

The recipe sat open on your phone between the two of you while ingredients cluttered the counter. Flour, sugar, butter, chocolate chips. Somehow, despite following simple instructions, the kitchen already looked like it'd survived a minor natural disaster.

Mostly because of you.

"You got flour on my shirt."

You glanced down.

A handprint sat squarely on the front of Megumi's black t-shirt.

"...Oops."

"You did that on purpose."

"No, I didn't!" you insist, adamant.

"You looked directly at the flour before touching me."

You grinned.

Megumi rolled his eyes.

Still, he didn't move away when you stepped closer to brush the excess flour off.

Not that it helped.

Now there was just more flour on him.

"Perfect," you said.

"It's worse."

"It gives character."

"I don't want character."

"Too bad."

For a second, Megumi's lips twitched.

A tiny smile.

Gone almost immediately.

You pointed at him.

"There it is."

"There what is?"

"The smile."

"I wasn't smiling."

"You were."

"I wasn't."

"You literally were."

Megumi reached over and flicked your forehead.

You yelped dramatically.

"That hurts!"

"You're annoying."

"Yet you're dating me."

"Unfortunately."

You gasped.

"Unfortunately?"

Megumi didn't answer.

Instead, he turned back to the mixing bowl, pretending to focus very hard on stirring the batter.

The tips of his ears had turned pink.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

You filed that information away for future use.

The next ten minutes passed surprisingly peacefully.

You measured ingredients.

Megumi mixed.

You stole chocolate chips whenever he wasn't looking.

Megumi caught you every single time.

"Stop eating them."

"I'm quality testing."

"You've quality tested twelve."

"What if the thirteenth one is bad?"

"They're all from the same bag."

"You don't know that."

Megumi stared.

You stared back.

Eventually, he shook his head.

"I can't believe you."

"You love me."

A dangerous silence followed.

The kind that immediately made you suspicious.

Slowly, you looked up.

Megumi was staring at the bowl.

Very intensely.

Far too intensely.

As if the cookie dough held the secrets of the universe.

"Megumi."

No response.

"Megumi."

"...What?"

"You got weird."

"I didn't."

"You did."

He sighed.

You smiled.

A second later, he reached over and pressed a bit of flour onto your cheek.

You froze.

Megumi looked almost pleased with himself.

Almost.

"Did you just start a flour war?"

"No."

"You absolutely did."

"No."

"You did."

You grabbed the flour bag.

Megumi immediately stepped back.

"Don't."

"Oh, now you're scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You're retreating."

"I'm being smart."

"Same thing."

The look he gave you nearly made you laugh.

A few minutes later, after the dough was finally finished and the cookies were in the oven, the kitchen settled into a comfortable quiet.

You hopped onto the counter, legs swinging over the edge.

Megumi stood between your knees, arms folded loosely across his chest.

The scent of vanilla and chocolate slowly filled the apartment.

For a while, neither of you said anything.

It wasn't awkward.

It never was.

Not with him.

Eventually, your shoulder bumped his.

"You had fun."

Megumi immediately scoffed.

"No, I didn't."

"Liar."

"No."

"You smiled."

"Once."

"You laughed too."

"Didn't happen."

"Don't gaslight me."

Megumi looked away.

You grinned.

Then, without thinking much about it, you reached out and wiped away a small streak of flour still stuck near his jaw.

His eyes flickered down to yours.

The kitchen suddenly felt much quieter.

Much smaller.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

Then Megumi gently caught your wrist.

Not to stop you.

Just to hold it.

"You got flour in your hair," he said quietly.

"Oh."

His thumb brushed against your hand.

You tried very hard not to smile.

Failed immediately.

The timer went off.

Both of you jumped.

Megumi let go first.

You laughed.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Though judging by the way his ears were turning pink again, neither of you had really forgotten it.

… 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑑. ❞

.　⟢　𝓈ℴ𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁𝓈 !　˘

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