Pretty. || Fushiguro Megumi.

pretty. || fushiguro megumi.

↠ pairing: fushiguro megumi x gn!reader

↠ words: 2.3k // warning: megumi melt mush prepare yourself

↠ synopsis: the three ways you find megumi pretty and the three ways you find out you like him and he likes you. (OR reader just staring at megumi’s eyelashes, hands, and mouth 🥹 and megumi going from 😐 to 😵‍💫🤭🫤)

↠ tags: fluff, v fluff, friends to lovers, mutual pining, slight crack at end

↠ a/n: (1) this fic is just me going on about how pretty megumi is sorry not sorry (2) i haven't written in a while/consistently hopefully this is coherent

fushiguro megumi is pretty.

pretty, pretty, pretty.

he is pretty in many and in all ways to you, but he is prettiest in three.

i. his hands are pretty.

the breeze that stirs the grass feels almost as light as your feet on the ground as you twist and turn to avoid being hit.

megumi is relentless with his attacks, and it is all you can do to avoid his shikigami. nue erupts into shadow just as you jump to attack it, and you land at megumi’s feet gracelessly, chin a millimeter from his boots and back hoisted into the air clumsily.

megumi’s brown boots recede from your vision and in their place appears his hand. for some reason, you stare.

well, no, not for some reason. megumi’s hands have always caught your eye. not in like a creepy, hand fetish kinky sort of way, but rather, because they look so contradictory to megumi as a whole. fushiguro megumi looks ot be anything but gentle, or careful, but his hands are exactly that. lithe fingers, soft nails, a considerate touch.

your eyes stray to his hands more than you would like. when he leans over to your desk and raps his knuckles on your table, signalling you to pay attention, you can’t help but think about how it would feel if those knuckles were trailing the skin of your cheek. when he waves you over, fingers swaying lightly, you can’t help but envision how his fingers would feel wrapped around your own. when he flicks yuuji’s forehead, fingers jutting out and retracting so fast you almost miss the movement, your mind can’t help but conjure up an image of megumi flicking those fingers in areas he maybe shouldn’t be flicking them in (okay so maybe you’re a little hand-kink-fetish-y but you blame it on the cursed energy constantly surrounding the school—hormones and feelings and pretty dark-haired boys have nothing to do with it).

megumi snaps his fingers in front of your face, and unfolds his hand. you grunt unintelligibly as you push yourself up and curl your fingers into your own. megumi pulls you up swiftly, and you only get to revel in the feel of his warm hand in yours before he yanks it away.

“why are you making a face like that?” megumi raises an eyebrow as you dust off your uniform, flicking away strands of wet grass and random clods of dirt.

“like what?”

“like the face todo makes when itadori runs away from him.”

“i am not making such a mopey face!”

“i’m literally looking at it right now. your face is all mushed up and your lips are pursed all weird.”

“fushiguro, you—!” you shove at his shoulder, and he catches your hand and does that weird curve of his lips that’s somewhere between a smirk and a smile, and your heart catapults in your chest, and oh no.

oh no is all you can think as megumi brings your hands down, letting go slowly.

oh no is all you can think as you start walking to school, warm digits brushing against your side.

oh no is all you can think as fushiguro megumi leads his way to the school and walks his way into your heart.

ii. his frown is pretty.

fushiguro megumi looks pretty when he smiles, but he looks prettier still when he frowns.

that’s what makes him special, you think, because he can make even a frown look as pretty as a smile.

maybe it’s that he’s always frowning a little, and maybe it’s because you like him, but his frown is just so pretty to you.

sometimes, you do things on purpose to make him frown.

when you hop on to yuuji’s back as yuuji jumps from tree to tree. a test of endurance, he calls it. megumi is on standby with nue in case the two of you fall and he frowns as you jump up onto yuuji and his arms come up under your legs. part of you hopes megumi is frowning because part of him is uncomfortable with yuuji carrying you like this (maybe jealous?), but part of you knows it is probably because the two of you are doing “dangerously stupid dumb shit,” as he put it. still, once you make it through in one piece, megumi tugs you a little farther away from yuuji and closer to him, and your heart does its catapulting again.

when gojo-sensei clowns around with you. which is almost always. you are the one who indulges him from time (he buys icecream after!!), and megumi hates it. gojo-sensei is always prattling on about something or the other, an arm swung around your shoulders as he guides you to the nearest konbini. he keeps on looking back though, and smirking, and you’re 99% sure it’s megumi because gojo-sensei loves to press his buttons. (you look behind once, quickly, and all you see are shadows like wild black strands.)

when you’re on missions and you always volunteer to go headfirst into danger, though megumi wants you to standby as support. it’s not that he knows you’re not capable (the incident when you moved into the dorms proves you more than fully competent). it’s that you know he only protects the people he cares about. and somewhere along the way, you had fallen into that category (the thought makes you warm). so you know why he wants you to stay behind. but you also make sure he knows why you can’t. because you also want to protect the people you love, and he is very securely in that list. and when you tell him this, not in those exact words, and he frowns and looks away, his nose red, tells you to stay near and stay safe, you think that’s when you realize how much you like fushiguro megumi.

iii. his eyelashes are pretty.

class with gojo-sensei is, quite frankly, a nightmare.

he’s all over the place, a twenty-eight year old bundle of boundless energy and annoying jokes. by the time class ends, you are too mentally exhausted with the chore of sifting important information from his rambling to think about anything other than the long, warm nap you’re going to take in the afternoon sun.

swinging the classroom door shut behind you, you yawn loudly as yuuji and nobara rumble past you. the latter is dragging the former down the hall, excitedly chattering about her next shopping conquests while yuuji throws out a confused or surprised “huh????” every two minutes.

you slog along behind them and just before they take a left to the exit, nobara elbows yuuji and both turn around and grin largely, holding their thumbs up.

you make your own “huh????” face and nobara snorts as yuuji clamps a hand over his mouth and they run off to the exit together, both chortling over something that will no doubt land you in trouble later on.

eyebrows twitching, feeling like an extremely large burden has settled itself on your shoulders, you trudge on, clueless to the hesitant footsteps that follow you.

having slept only four hours the night before (catching up to the attack on titan manga takes work!), your vision blurs as sleep-induced tears line your eyes. deciding to just push open the first door you see, you reason it should be fine since megumi is nowhere to be seen, nobara and yuuji are off planning your demise, gojo-sensei’s room is far away, and only first-years reside on this floor, so fuck it.

you ram your shoulder into the first door to your right, and the moment it swings open, you take two, three steps forward and promptly collapse on the bed.

and then you’re dead asleep, unaware of the the actual owner of the room standing behind you, red blanketing his cheeks.

when you wake up, the first thing you think is, oh my god wtf why does my bed smell so nice?

you’re lying on your front, hair covering your eyes so that all you can see is dark black and the white of the bed covers. and eyelashes, fluttering softly. they look pretty. and fluttery.

and wait, why can you see eyelashes? why are there eyelashes in your room?? eyelashes that definitely, probably aren’t yours??

you press two fingers to your eye roughly, wincing as you almost jab your eye, but no, yeah, your eyelashes are. right. there.

so what the hell are eyelashes doing near your bed??

if this is some weird sort of curse with pretty eyelashes, that is just wrong and it will die for daring to have eyelashes longer than yours.

you inch back slowly, lifting a hand to push your hair out of the way, careful not to disturb whatever thing is on your bed.

that thing, as your vision becomes unobstructed, turns out to be the prettiest human being you have ever laid eyes on.

fushiguro megumi’s head is somehow slanted across your bed, resting on one arm as the other dangles somewhere below the bed—in what looks to be a very uncomfortable position which means you should probably wake him (but not before taking a picture)—and he is sound asleep.

before you can melt into mush at the sight before you, a thought occurs.

what the hell is fushiguro megumi doing in your room??

a picture of two dogs catches your eye, and shock drums in your heart as you slowly observe your surroundings.

this is…not your room at all. this is megumi’s room! megumi’s bed??? megumi’s smell????

you feel like a fangirl embarrassingly, but you have quite literally died and gone to heaven.

you lie back down slowly, on your side, and close your eyes as you breathe in the clean, nice smell imbued in the bed covers. megumi’s smell.

megumi smells like the word “breeze.” he smells like cool mist and sun-soaked almonds and the faintest hints of wildflowers.

wistfully, you sigh and open your eyes.

megumi’s sleeping face greets you and a smile traces a path across your cheeks, unbidden.

megumi looks so soft. his eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones as he breathes quietly, and your heart thumps in quick succession.

the same softness you see in megumi’s face swirls up inside you. you want to hug him or see him smile or just curl your fingers in his.

you want to kiss that space where his eyelashes meet his cheek so badly.

and maybe it’s because you’re still drowsy from sleep, or drowsy on affection, but you place a hand near megumi’s, and lean forward and press a kiss as soft as the boy in front of you. one to his left cheekbone, and one to his right.

just as you’re drawing back, those eyelashes flit against skin and megumi’s eyes open.

he slides his eyes open so smoothly it’s like they’ve been open all this time.

navy blue pools.

your mind is blank, so blank, and all you can think is pretty, so pretty, i want to just hold him, i like him too much, i want to kiss him, he’s so cute, i wish we could stay like this.

“stay pretty.”

the minute you realize what you’ve said, your face burns and the alarm system in your brain is ringing so loud you’re sure everyone within a twenty-mile radius can hear.

oh god, if gojo-sensei walks in, you will literally throw yourself off a roof.

“i will.” megumi nods, almost automatically, and then his face catches on fire.

and now there are two fools caught on fire staring at each other, and the room is burning.

neither of you know what to say, but maybe neither of you need to say anything. your nose is a centimeter from megumi’s and you don’t know which of you shifts forward but then you’re pressed against each other. and his mouth is on yours and his eyelashes are gliding against your skin and his hand is on yours. and you really are on fire in this cool, dusky, mist-scented room.

every press of megumi’s mouth to yours overwrites your brain with thoughts of i like you, i like you, i like you, i like you, i like you.

you pull apart, and megumi’s expression is as soft as it was in sleep, something you didn’t think you’d see while he was awake.

and as you stare at this soft, pretty, dark-haired, quietly loud boy in front of you, you can only think of one thing to say.

“i like you.”

megumi’s expression doesn’t waver.

“me too.”

“you like yourself too?”

“shut up, (l/n). you know that’s not what i meant.” he frowns that pretty cross between a pout and a scowl, and you smile as you lean forward to kiss it away.

fushiguro megumi is prettiest when he is kissing you.

//

bonus:

kugisaki nobara is nothing if not observant.

“that’s what you like to think, though. i don’t think that’s true.” yuuji is instantly smacked, and he whines as nobara marches him along to (name)’s room.

the room is empty, and the bed doesn’t look like it’s been slept in. or made. the covers are haphazardly thrown off and a whirlwind of objects makes its presence known in the room.

“must be from this morning when (l/n) was late.”

“when is (l/n) not late? c’mon, let’s ask megumi if he knows where she is.”

nobara marches yuuji down the hall again, and he follows obediently as she slams megumi’s door open. nobara shrieks, loud, and yuuji slides into her in his haste to see what’s wrong.

when yuuji sees what she’s looking at, his own shocked scream fills the hallway.

megumi’s hand is on your face, and yours are curled around the collar of his uniform, and your lips are dark.

“i knew it!! god, i told you, yuuji, i have an eye for these things!”

“fushiguro, are you DEFILING (l/n)????!!!!”

“i’ll kill you, itadori.”

“kugisaki, if you were rooting for me, why did you come in?!”

“hell yeah!! yaga owes me 300 yen, SCORE!”

“GOJO-SENSEI WHAT THE HELL??”