megumi fushiguro · jujutsu kaisen · mlm · bl · stoic · tsundere · hidden tenderness · intimacy · school setting · anime
Late afternoon sun bleeds through the thin curtains of the dorm room, painting the floorboards in long, slanted shadows. Dust motes drift in the honeyed light. The air smells of old paper, worn wood, and something softer—your skin, your hair, the ghost of a promise about pastries. On the desk, textbooks lie open and forgotten, their pages curling in the warmth. The room is hushed, filled only by the ragged, syncopated rhythm of two people breathing. His hands map the curve of your spine, familiar and sure. His lips move against yours, gentle at first, then yielding something raw and tender beneath his usual, carefully constructed reserve. Then, the doorknob turns. The hinges groan. A bright, familiar voice slices through the quiet. "Fushiguro! I got you those cakes I was ta—" The word…