Chapter Text
The first time you’d met Megumi Fushiguro was incredibly embarrassing. After running around campus for a full day, he (a boy) had been the first one gracious enough to let you know you had been bleeding through your light-wash jeans.
How did this even happen? Sure, you had felt something down there, but it always feels like that, and after more than half a decade of being a woman who menstruates and spending countless wasted breaths asking, “Can you check me?”, your worries and paranoia had just never manifested, until today at least.
So you blankly stared at him, mouth agape. Your hands flung back to your ass to check the damage immediately. The wet area was there for sure, but it was small. You breathed a sigh of relief before remembering that, small or not, you had bled through your pants. They had literal vagina blood on them, and the one who had told you was a man—an admittedly good-looking one at that. For him to have been bothered enough to let you know, gosh, you were embarrassed.
That day, he had given you his sweater to save you from the embarrassment of walking around in bled-through pants; he was fairly nonchalant about everything, all things considered, which you could appreciate. It made you really self-reflect. Maybe you weren’t woke enough. Realistically, you shouldn’t be ashamed of your period blood; you are a woman, and it’s something that could always happen. Your periods were irregular, but even if they weren’t, anyone overly bothered by someone who chooses to free bleed anyway could sulk about it. It hadn’t really hurt anyone except perhaps your pride, and Megumi, as he had lost a sweater in the whole ordeal.
Initially, you had planned to return it that same day, right after you thoroughly washed it, of course. You went down to your dorm's shitty basement, where all the communal washers and dryers were, waited patiently for a free washer, threw out some guy's clothes when no washers were free, a full three hours later, and sat through both cycles, but by that time it was night, there’s no shame in returning it the next morning, right?
Unfortunately, when the next morning came, you realized you didn’t really know who Megumi was, where he stays, whether that be on or off campus, or even what kind of person he is. What if he didn’t even want the sweater back? Maybe he pitied you so much that the action of giving you the sweater was the same to him as donating to a charity or feeding the homeless. Did he really want the sweater back if he was willing to give it up? He didn’t even know that you ended up keeping it clean; he probably thought you covered it in your blood or something else disgusting. Tracking him down to give him the sweater would make you seem like such a creep, too. Maybe you should just keep it…
So that’s how Megumi’s sweater made its way to the back of your closet, and eventually the front of your closet, and eventually, into rotation with the rest of your clothes.
It’s so crazy that all of this could’ve been avoided if you had simply worn a tampon that day, or maybe some darker pants.
All these thoughts flood your mind as Yuuji yells at you.
This was quite the predicament…
---
You met Itadori Yuuji in a pretty embarrassing way, too, but it was better.
“Oh, do you know Megumi?” A boy pulls out the chair next to you and sits down. He looks happy but expectant, waiting for the answer to his question, but you can’t help but sit there, confused. Did you know Megumi? Better question, did you know this guy?
You try not to act as confused as you feel, “Um… no. I think you may have me confused with someone else.” You turn to focus back to the lecture, but when he stares at you expectantly, you resume eye contact with him.
“Really?” He appears very confused, more so than you even. “He probably introduced himself as Fushiguro.” He presses on, and it’s worth it, apparently, because you do unfortunately know who he’s talking about. This was so weird.
You try to figure out why that matters, “Oh! Yeah, I know who you're talking about, but I wouldn’t say I know him. I’ve met him once, a full year ago.” You expect this to end the conversation; it doesn’t.
“I only asked because you’re wearing our high school baseball team's sweater.” Your face suddenly heats up. You’d really gotten into some deep shit now. You should’ve returned this sweater. Why did you keep it? And if you were gonna keep it, you shouldn’t be wearing it around campus. Truth be told, you had completely forgotten this sweater was his. Half of your closet was stolen goods from friends and exs, sometimes even your friends' exs.
“Oh yeah…” You try to turn away from the boy, thoroughly embarrassed by this whole conversation, but he only scoots his chair up to you and leans toward your face. His eyes squint like he’s trying to decide what to do with you for being a creepy sweater-stealing thief.
“Be honest,” his words make your heart sink, and you try to swallow, but your mouth is dry, and your tongue feels heavy, “are you Fushiguro’s secret girlfriend?”
Very suddenly, all your anxiety disappears, and it’s replaced with an adamant need to refuse. “WHAT! No!” What’s meant to be a profuse denial turns into a loud shriek, earning you a glare from your professor, and when the class turns to look at you, you can only sink further in your chair. This completely replaces the initial incident; this is the worst day ever.
The boy, on the other hand, does nothing but laugh at you, “Don’t worry, this prof is all bark no bite.” When you give him a confused look, he responds without you having to ask, “I’m retaking this class.” The confidence he had radiated the whole conversation suddenly dims, and he rubs the back of his neck.
This does intrigue and therefore emboldens you, and though it may be a bit of a personal question, you can’t help but ask it: “What did you get last time?” When he purses his lips, you elbow him a bit before continuing, “Maybe you can help me!” He lets out a quick sigh and leans even closer to whisper his previous grade in your ear, but when the words tumble out, you yelp again, and the two of you are swiftly kicked out for the day.
“All bark and no bite, huh?” You give him a slight glare, and he looks a bit like a kicked puppy.
“Sorry 'bout that. If you want, I’ll show you my friend's notes from last semester, and we can just study at a café. On me.” That is a good offer. You uncross your arms and give him a gentle smile. What you don’t do is ask if the friend is Megumi, much to the dismay of the little part of you in the back of your mind. Trying to ignore that you agree and follow him as he introduces himself and leads you to his “favourite spot” off campus.
---
Yuuji Itadori turns out to be a really nice guy. He’s honestly really sweet, and even though he’s a bit dense sometimes, you guys have that in common. Even though you initially expected things to be the other way around, you’ve sort of become his Econ 201 tutor. He used to go over to your dorm to study, but ever since you found out he and his roommates rent out a HOUSE. You haven’t let him live down making the two of you study in your dorm room that’s the size of a prison cell.
One of those roommates, being Megumi Fushiguro, just happened to be a bonus, and with your Econ midterm coming up in a week, you had gone over to the house a couple of times recently. Though you’ve yet to return the sweater. Now that all this time passed, it’d be too awkward to do now. Yuuji used to always disagree; he would say it’s the perfect way to start a conversation, but even though he wasn’t unpopular with girls, or with anyone for that matter, you’d never take relationship advice from him!
At the start of your friendship he used to always offer to set you up with Megumi, claiming the guy “needed to loosen up” and “a girlfriend would do him some good”, but after the two of you guys got closer he must’ve realized how much it embarrassed you because it hasn’t been brought up at all in about a month. In fact, he almost seemed more nervous than you when you and Megumi met for the second time two weeks ago.
As soon as you got past the communal space filled with his friends and got up to his room, he interrogated you. “Do you like Megumi?” He plops down on his bed, but doesn’t take his eyes off you, clearly awaiting an answer.
“WHAT!” You could feel your ears heating up. What kind of question was that! Plus, the walls in this house didn’t look that thick! How could he ask, knowing Megumi and all of his friends were right under the two of you?
Yuuji is studying your reaction, and so you turn to avoid his gaze. “I thought before that you were just grateful for the gesture, and probably embarrassed for stealing his sweater, but now I feel like there’s more to it.” When you look back at him, his nose is all scrunched up, and you can’t help but mirror his face, only with a slightly more angry edge.
Despite your anger, you don’t leave him to wonder, “I mean, he looks good,” your mind drifts off to the sweater, “and I mean he’s sweet…” Yuuji looks at you intently, waiting for a real answer. You give him one. “But, no. I mean, I barely know him. This is our second time meeting, so I couldn’t say I have feelings for him in that way…”
Yuuji lets out a sigh.
A bit offended, but also curious, you can’t help but ask, “What the hell is that for. Am I not really… his type?”
He shakes his head and breaks eye contact with you for the first time to drag his hands over his eyes and then down his face, “No, I wouldn’t say that— I mean, I don’t know. I just wouldn’t want anything to get awkward between us because of Fushiguro.” What the hell did that mean?
He’s being weird, so you press him for more information: “Why would they?”
His answer is unhelpful as usual. “I dunno, I was just overthinking, I guess.” He smiles faintly and pulls out his computer and the textbook from his bag.
You can tell Yuuji doesn’t really like this topic, but you can’t help but poke the bear, “Say I did have a thing for Fushiguro. What kind of girls does he like?”
For the first time since you’ve known him, Yuuji seems more interested in economics than in a conversation with you. When you give him the same expectant look he always gives you, he answers you. “Ones with good character.”
You scoff, but laugh when you realize he’s being serious, “What a bunch of bull! I mean like, what’s his type, Yuuji?”
Yuuji’s annoyed at this point, but if he wasn’t being ridiculous, the two of you wouldn’t still be talking about this. Not to mention, like a month ago, back when the mention of Megumi’s name sent you into embarrassment-induced psychosis, this was his favourite topic. Who cares if he needs to study? A little payback is always good for the soul. Even when you call him out, he insists, “That’s what he says his type is.”
You do believe him this time and decide to pivot. “Okay, but give me something to work with, like, ex-girlfriends. Are there any patterns? Other than good character, of course.” You giggle lightly, and Yuuji actually does take a second to think about it this time.
He shrugs and just says, “I guess they’re usually a bit older.” Your face sours at this, and you’re ready to move on from the topic after one last comment. “Oh, so a virgin loser like me really has no chance”, you sulked and flopped down onto his bed next to him.
His face flushes, and he slams the economics book shut. “What are you whining about?” You scoff a little at that. Real fuckin’ rich coming from him.
You sit up to look at him, “He likes older girls.” You try to help Yuuji connect the dots. “Older means more experienced, and I just,” You let out a sigh and mutter the rest. “I don’t have any experience with that type of stuff…”
Yuuji looks shocked, if anything, “None? You’ve never had a boyfriend?” Judging by the look on his face, he doesn’t believe you at all.
“I mean no, I have, but like in high school and stuff, and things didn’t ever go that far if you know what I mean.” Surprisingly, you don’t feel very uncomfortable admitting this to Yuuji. He thinks for a bit, and he’s about to open his mouth to say something, but he shuts it immediately.
You roll your eyes at him and can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. He’s gonna do what Yuuji always does, so you give him some clearance. “Say what you wanna say, if you’re gonna make fun of me, don’t worry, I’ve already heard it all.” You let out a little laugh, but Yuuji is still trying not to look at you, and he’s picking at the callouses on his hands.
You narrow your eyes at him, hopefully encouraging him to speak his mind, and it works cause he does, “We could like… practice.” When you give him a confused look in response, he continues, “For Fushiguro I mean, and when you feel confident enough, you can try some shit out on him.”
You’re conflicted for a moment. You don’t want to ruin your friendship with Yuuji. You didn’t often make male friends, but being with Yuuji transcended that rule. He never felt like a guy friend, just a best friend. If doing this made anything weird, it would ruin the great thing the two of you had, but on the other hand things could also go really well. You could learn how to do sexual stuff with a friend you trusted, and he already knew everything about your crush. Really, it was actually perfect.
“Aw, Yuuji! You’d do that for me?” You beam at him and shuffle over to sit on his lap.
He smiles back at you almost as wide, “Yeah, what are friends for?” His hands drift down to rest on your hips, where you're straddling him, and so after getting the go-ahead, you lean in to give him a kiss on his neck and trail up to his jaw, which starts to tremble with the sound of a gasp and then some questions.
You can feel the vibrations of his throat when he starts talking. “Have you ever done this before?”
When you pull off his new little hickey and look up at him, you can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the question, “Kay, I’m a virgin, but I’m not Mary. I’ve kissed a guy, Yuuji.”
He seems a bit embarrassed because of your response, but he guides your face up to his instead of saying anything. You may have stretched the truth a bit; you have had your first kiss, but making out like this was definitely new to you.
Before you can worry too much about anything, Yuuji’s tongue is pushing against your teeth, asking for permission to enter your mouth, and so you allow it. His tongue is hasty, but surprisingly dry, as if the prior conversation had given him cotton mouth. Nonetheless, he's skilled enough, while yours lies steady in your mouth, Yuuji's tongue takes its time to explore you. It dances against your crowns, the roof of your mouth, and your tongue as well, swiping over the gentle nubs of your taste buds. Yuuji tastes like the lunch you had shared just a few hours ago, some coffee you had told him not to buy to keep himself from getting jittery, and a strawberry puff pastry.
The flavour suits him.
The inexperience you were worried about it forgotten because he makes everything so easy. When you try to follow his lead and let your tongue drift over into his mouth, he handles it and continues to swirl his against yours. When you accidentally nip his lip, he stifles down your guilt with a moan. Only when you find yourself once again unsure and waiting for the guidance you know he can give do you find yourself pausing, and peering down at his eyes squeezed shut, until he pulls away and rests his face into your neck. “Why are your eyes open?” Strangely enough, it doesn’t even sound like a question, more so just an out-of-breath statement.
His hands are still on your hips, and he starts to rub them back and forth on his lap, and you can feel him getting hard underneath you. Trying to help him, you move your hips with him and resume your kisses on the side of his neck, totally ignoring his question out of embarrassment.
The feeling of his hard dick rubbing against you makes you ticklish, and you can't help but squirm, causing Yuuji's moans to fall pitifully out of his lips. Your pride swells at his noises, and you hype yourself up to ask, “Can I blow you?” Yuuji lets out a deep sigh, but he pushes you off him and nods his head yes while saying no.
“Just— just start with your hands first.”
Following his lead, you climb off of him and kneel down between his legs. Yuuji removes his pants himself, but it’s up to you to release his cock from his briefs. When you do so, it immediately springs out and slaps against his stomach, and while you’re flattered, it is a bit shocking. “WOAH, you’re already so hard!”
He doesn’t answer you.
You look up at him and wait for some help, “Kay, what should I do?” In response, he looks away from where you are sitting between his legs.
“I guess it makes sense you haven’t done this either.”
You can’t help but laugh a little and lay your head down on his thigh. “Yeah, no… but that’s what you’re here for, right? To teach me.” You give him a big smile, but instead of returning it, he almost looks angry.
His scowl only grows when he speaks, “Ugh, don’t say stuff like that.”
“Why not?” You can’t help but pout a little bit at Yuuji after being shut down so harshly. This was already a bit of a vulnerable situation to be in.
“Save it for you and Fushiguro.”
You roll your eyes and wrap your hands around him, then wait and look at him expectantly, hoping for some advice, but when he looks back at you, he stays silent, so you're forced to abandon that plan.
Focusing back onto his now, very hard cock, you pull on it and start trying to jerk him off. He grunts, but not in a very good way, and the urge to give up swells in your chest. Pleading at this point, you give him your best, help me out here, face, hoping to avoid the embarrassment of saying out loud that you don’t know how to give a good hand job.
Yuuji sighs at you and drags his hands over his eyes before giving you the answer you were practically begging him for, “Don’t rub it dry just—”, he spits in his hand and spreads it on his dick for you to take care of. Feeling more confident, you take two hands and rub them up and down the length of him. He shivers a bit and lets out a deep sigh, and not being able to tell if this was another bad one or maybe a good one this time, you once again ask him, “How does it feel?”
Yuuji is getting worse and worse at talking, but he still manages to respond, “It’s— it’s good, yeah, it's good. Just—”. He takes one of his hands around the two of yours and squeezes, tightening your grip around him. He keeps your pace, but you can feel his eyes begging you to speed up a bit, and you oblige.
When he takes his hands off of yours to put them over his face, you assume you’ve got the speed and grip right, so you let your eyes drift down to his balls. Is that part of a hand job?
You look up to Yuuji to see if he notices your new fixation, but his eyes are screwed shut, and while one of his hands grips his sheets, his other arm is caught between his teeth to stifle any sounds he makes.
You’re just gonna have to use your words. “Should— should I put my mouth on it?”
In response to this question, he closes his eyes even tighter, which is definitely getting annoying. Why is he avoiding looking at you? Are things gonna be awkward between the two of you after this?
His Adam’s apple bobs before he takes his arms out of his mouth briefly to answer you, and he shakes his head, “No I —holy shit—it’s too much for your first time, just focus on your ha—aah—nds.”
You roll your eyes again, before taking his advice and pinching the sack a little bit, just to get a feel for it, but instead of going back to shape when you let go like you had expected, they tense up further, and you flinch when suddenly Yuuji almost screams, the only thing blocking the sound being his muscled arm that his teeth are sunken into.
Right after looking up at him, to hopefully find the source of his distress, his cum splatters into your eye, and you instinctively squeeze them both shut. He’s breathing heavily, and you can hear him collapse onto his bed.
Well, that was fast.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “thought you,” he pauses to catch his breath, “thought you meant my dick.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Yuuji cuss this many times in a row.
Slowly, you open your right eye —the one not covered in cum— and peek up at him. He’s still lying on his back, and his chest is rising and falling quickly. “Oh, are these off limits?” You poke his balls gently, hoping to avoid confusion like last time, but you instantly regret it when his dick starts twitching at the sensation. " Sorry 'bout that, I was trying to ask is all, but you wouldn’t look at me."
He springs up off his back on the bed, seemingly responding to your request, to finally look at you, but he instantly closes his eyes again and covers up his mouth with his palm this time after getting one glimpse of you.
“Are you okay, Yuuji? Oh my gosh, you're bleeding!” Where his mouth once was is a bite mark that’s pinpoint bleeding onto his clothing and his sheets. You wanna check on him and see the damage up close, but when you stand up from your position between his legs, you almost fall over as your knees ache and your legs begin to tingle. Maybe kneeling for so long was a bad idea. How long had it even been anyway?
“Could”, his eyes are still squeezed tight, and his voice is raspy from his screams, “could you go to the bathroom and wash your face?”
Oh… the nut on your face.
Was that really the reason he was refusing to look at you? Yeah, it was technically nasty, and it was pretty uncomfortable and definitely not planned, but you had thought maybe he would think it was sexy, get super hard, and fuck the shit out of you. Instead, he basically called you dirty and kicked you out of his room. Yuuji is the last person you’d expect to be such a dick about this sort of thing, but then again, you’d known him for what, a few months. Maybe you didn’t actually know as much about him as you thought.
You shake your legs and slap them a little to get rid of the numbness before marching over to his —thankfully attached— bathroom. You’d hate to go into the hallway of a house he shared, looking like this. If Yuuji wouldn’t look at you, what would his roommates think?
What would Megumi think?
The reality of the situation kind of hits you in this moment. Without giving him a glance back, you mutter out a response, knowing that with his eyes closed as tightly as they were right now, he probably wouldn’t know whether you had climbed into his bed or already walked out the door. “Yeah, okay, I’ll go.”
“Ugh, not like that. You know I don’t mean it like that.” His voice is all whiny in the way it is whenever you get a bit ticked off by him, but you ignore him and slip into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door. After you wash your face, you wipe it off on his towel and turn to see Yuuji standing in the doorway. You want to be mad at him, but his big dopey smile doesn’t really let you. When you acknowledge him, he wanders into the bathroom himself and puts his hands on your hips, pouting a little bit at the death glare you give him.
“I’m sorry, okay.” He pulls you a bit closer and bends down to tuck his face into your neck, as he had earlier, before taking a big sniff of your neck. “Do you wear perfume?” He doesn’t look like he wants an answer because he’s more distracted sliding his hands over your ass, picking up the meat of your butt and then letting it fall before repeating the action. He’s bouncing your butt around in your hands, and it makes you think about what that means. He’s usually touchy, but not like this. Maybe making out and jerking him off like that had crossed a line in his mind.
“I just bought it. Wanted to try something new.” You swear you can feel him scowl in your neck, but maybe you were being dramatic, not just about this, but everything. Telling you to wash your face isn’t the same as saying he hates you and wants you to die. You laugh a bit before pushing off of him. “Well, anyway, thanks for that, but I’m going home now.”
Now he pouts for real, “But why?” This was the Yuuji you knew.
You laughed at his frown and slipped past him to leave the bathroom. “Um, maybe because I came here to help you study and I didn’t get shit done.” You pick up your phone; it has really been two hours since you got here. An hour of that was chatter with Yuuji’s roommates, though, so maybe that’s not too bad.
Yuuji is always persistent, “You can’t go home at this time anyway.” He points out his window, trying to prove something, but when you peek outside his window to see what he’s referring to, it’s barely dark. The sun would probably set in ten minutes or so, and you lived ten minutes away. It was actually the perfect time to leave.
“I’ll be back to the dorms by the time it’s actually dark.” An idea strikes you. “Buuuut, didn’t Fushiguro say he’s gonna walk his dogs? Maybe I’ll get to use the strategies you taught me.” You shimmy around him a little bit so he understands your implication a bit better, but he seems unamused.
He doesn’t say anything, but you don’t let that ruin your fun, “Ugh, you’re being such a buzzkill right now.” His frown only deepens while your smile gets wider. “Make it right by asking Megumi if he still needs to walk his dogs, tell him a young lady like me can’t walk home alone. Please, please pleaseeeeee!”
And Yuuji does, cause he’s a really nice guy.