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Extra! Extra! Read all about it!
megumi’s in his feelings and he can’t get out of it [megumi fushiguro smau]
— in which megumi takes a liking to the new girl in class a.k.a you pt. 1 , pt. 2
note(s): megumi’s a [somewhat] blunt texter, slightly!oblivious reader, kugisaki cameo!
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Extra! Extra! Read all about it!
megumi’s in his feelings and he can’t get out of it [megumi fushiguro smau]
— in which megumi takes a liking to the new girl in class a.k.a you pt. 1, pt. 2
note(s): megumi’s a [somewhat] blunt texter, jealous!megumi 👀, slightly!oblivious reader, another kugisaki cameo! gets suggestive at the end.
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Chapter 01 - NOT THE BOY
Mrs. Orimoto's exited the school, heels clicking in anger as she left behind a humiliated Mrs. Fuji. The first year teacher remained on the floor, taking in the shame of being berated in front of all these students, her uniform crumpled and dignity shattered.
When she finally scrambled to her feet, her heels clicked in an uneven stumble on the ground. She kept her head down, avoiding the eyes, and the few phones that were hovered up to film the mess. She made an immediate beeline for the stairs. She had a first period class to teach, she tried to make her exit as quiet as possible.
Mrs. Fuji climbed all the way to the stair's mid platform, passing by some few unassuming students on the way, however, a hand shot out.
You held the teacher's wrist, stopping her in her tracks.
"Are you okay, Miss?" You asked, your voice was smooth, devoid of any form of condescending tone that Mrs. Fuji would expect from anyone in this situation. You sounded concerned, offering a smile. A smile that was small and symmetrical, almost too perfect that it was eerie.
Mrs. Fuji's tear-filled eyes stared back at you. She looked at you, searching for genuine sympathy or concern over her well being but when she saw the polished empty mirror in your eyes facing back at her, a chill run down her spine.
"Today's my birthday, you know?" You continued, your hand still holding the teacher's wrist with a stable grip. "I believe yours is coming in a few days aswell. For being such a good gift... I'll have something prepared for you, too."
Your words were soft, but they carried a heavy weight. Creeped out by the strange intensity in your gaze, the teacher snatched her wrist away. She didn't say a word, instead scurrying up the stairs like a wounded animal.
You stood at the base of the staircase, your expression shifting as soon as Mrs. Fuji left your presence. Your upturned mouth faltered into a straight line, void of any other emotion. You turned slightly to Yuta. "I'm late for math," you said flatly.
You didn't wait for his answer, already walking ahead, Yuta’s tall stature followed the soft clicking of your shoes, station right behind you. Even though he was a third-year and his english class was in the complete opposite direction from your math class, the schedules of the Academy didn't exist to him.
As long as he was walking right beside you to anywhere you saw fit, he was exactly where he was meant to be.
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While the hallways simmered with gossip, Rika Orimoto stormed through the main entrance. Her face held severe anxiety. She had just arrived right after the chaos. However, she had no intention of involving herself in such a trivial thing, she had a more pressing mission.
She pushed past a group of lingering students to get to the second-floor notice board. Her heart hammered against her ribs as she read the headline of one of the papers plastered on the board. 'Qualified Candidates for National Mathlete Competition.'
This was supposed to be her moment. Her mother had promised her the leadership position; it was her birthright to have everything she wanted as an Orimoto after all. Rika's eyes scanned the list, searching for her name at the very top.
Her enthusiasm didn't just fade; it decimated.
2. Rika Orimoto
Second. She had placed second, and who placed first? You.
Rika's breath hitched. She was only a first-year, and she knew you were her senior student; meaning you’d be smarter with more educational experience backing you, but that didn't matter. You had beaten everyone. Even the smartest students in the third year were ranked below the both of you. So to Rika, It wasn't just a win; it was an insult.
It was meant to be mine, Rika thought, her fingernails digging into the palms of her hands. Especially not her. Not the girl whose mother is a murderer.
The sound of light, melodic laughter pulled Rika from her internal spiral. She turned her head toward the end of the hall.
There you stood, outside your class with a few of your classmates. You were smiling; a soft simple expression as you chatted with your friends while you all waited for your lessons teacher. You looked so normal, so innocent.
Then, Rika saw him.
Yuta Okkotsu. The Chairman's grandson. The boy who had haunted Rika's dreams since the moment she stepped onto campus on the first day of first year. Her heart skipped a beat, then several more, as she saw just how close he was standing next to you.
Rika had obviously heard the rumors; they were constant. She always heard how you two were together, that you two lived together, that you were a "matched set." Rika had always forced herself to ignore them. How could a boy like Yuta, with his lineage and his future, want someone so tainted by blood and scandal?
Rika's eye twitched with a violent surge of jealousy. She watched as Yuta reached out, pulling you into a hug in front of your classmates. You didn't reciprocate with the same energy he gave you; remaining somewhat passive. Apathetic even, while your friends squealed and giggled at the public display of affection.
She doesn't even appreciate him, Rika fumed, her vision tunneling on the pair. I would show him so much more than she ever could.
The rage that had started with the notice board shifted targets. It wasn't just about the Mathlete position anymore. Rika wasn't going to let you have what she was supposed to. Not the rank, and certainly not the boy.
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unedited; unknown word count
prologue | next chapter
author’s note: sorry for such a late chapter 😭 I started my A levels so I had to focus!!! Next chapter might also be a bit late 🙁🙏🏾 appreciate y’all patience ‼️‼️
taglist > @alebrasil0101 @magiccly
DEAR X - PROLOGUE
You always felt a wave of satisfaction whenever it was your birthday.
For most, the day marked the celebration of life, but for you, it was the grim anniversary of the ending of your father's. You remembered the static in the air of the cramped, suffocating apartment that you, your mom and father lived in; the smell of alcohol was pungent in the air and so was fear.
Your father was abusive, a narcissist, overrall a shitty person. You would always remember the sound of furniture breaking against the walls and the sound of your mother's pleas whenever he'd put his hands on her. You hated the way your mother allowed him to always have his way, and how whenever you'd plead with her to leave or run away, she'd always choose to stay by his side. You had pitied your mother, pity was the only thing you could feel at that moment in your life.
But on your tenth birthday, the pity died, and disgust took it's placed.
Unlike normal children, who celebrated, ate cake and opened birthday gifts, instead, you had been sent on an errand to buy your house some groceries for the week, father had requested for you to get the same bottle of alcohol he had been drinking for the past few weeks that had just ran out.
However, the store didn't have that specific brand and when you had returned with the wrong bottle, it was like you had committed a grave crime only worthy of the punishment of being beaten black and blue for hours in your room.
Your mother did nothing but prepare dinner in the kitchen, your father sat in the living room right next to the kitchen, taking a drag of a cigarrette as he watched a game show. You laid on your bedroom floor, bloody and bruised, you hiccuped as your body convulsed, breathing ragged as you rolled over, staring into space. You didn't feel most things; you didn't feel sad when your father ran over your pet cat when you were seven, you didn't feel angry when your father beat you for getting below a B in english when you were 7, but today? Today was the day something finally snapped.
You eyed the flower vase filled with purple lavenders, thinking today was the day you would finally have a use for them.
You took the vase downstairs, walking to the kitchen where your mother had been hunched over the counter, visibly shaking from the sounds of her husband when he was beating her only daughter. You didn't say anything, your little legs walking toward your mother, she sensed your presence. At first, she eyed you in confusion, before realising the flowers in your hands, she took the vase, looking at you with a strange yet frightful look.
You knew she was going to do it. She had to, in order for this to all end.
As you all sat at the dinner table, your face was puffed up and your ribs were aching, your eyes watched your food, your mother stared ahead of her, watching her husband dig into the stew.
You only looked up from your food when your father began to choke. His face turning a shade of purple as he suffocated on his own throat, your mother stood up, face devoid of the usual terror, and tightened the strings of her kitchen smock.
She stepped behind him, wrapping the fabric around his throat and pulling until his frantic clawing at the air stopped. He died staring at you, his eyes bulging with a hatred, cursing you as if he knew you were the reason for his death today.
You and your mother ate the rest of their meal in a heavy, peaceful silence. For once eating dinner didn't require them to walk on eggshells. They cleaned the table, leaving his limb body sitting at the table.
At midnight you two dragged his heavy corpse out into the freezing rain, throwing him at the bottom of the neighborhood steps. You stood in the cold, letting the rain drench you as you stared at your father's corpsed. For the first time in a while, you felt something other than pity. You felt satisfaction.
And it seems like you've been chasing that high ever since.
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The sun's light shone through the window, your eyes flickered open as it hit your first. Your head felt heavy from your nap. The first thing you saw was Yuta Okkotsu.
For the past thirty minutes, he sat in the seat in front of you watching you as you slept with his chin resting in his palm. His gaze forever focused, even with the curious, judgemental eyes of their classmates, Yuta didn't look away. He never did.
"Yuta," Y/N said dully, sitting up straight.
Yuta gave her a sickenly sweet smile. He reached down and pulled a bouquet from beneath his desk. It wasn't roses or lilies, it was a bouquet of lavender. Attached to it was a white card wrapped in a bow of her favourite colour.
"Happy Birthday [name]!" he said to her sweetly.
You looked at him, then at the flowers, then ever so discreetly to your nosy classmates that watched the two of you. Your apathetic face morphed instantly into a reciprocating smile; it was perfect, practiced, and warm.
"Thank you, Yuta." you said, taking the gifts.
You waited a moment before getting up, Yuta following behind you like a lost, loyal puppy. You walked down the stairs to the nearest trash can and, without a second thought, tossed the flowers inside. You did keep the card, tucking it away into your navy blue and white uniform blazer. Your fake smile dropped the second you were out of that classroom.
You looked up at Yuta expectantly, your eyes hollow and dissatisfied.
Yuta knew better. He always did.
Yuta's smile didn't waver. He only stepped closer, "Don't worry. Your real gift is coming soon."
He darted his eyes to the hallway clock on the freshly painted wall. As the hand struck 8:00 AM, the bell rang, and students began to come out for their next class. Just then, a series of obscenities tore through the air from the teacher's wing.
"You absolute whore! Did you think you could hide it?!"
Students stopped in their tracks as a middle-aged woman in a fur coat chased Mrs. Fuji, the first-year homeroom teacher, down the hall.
"You've been spreading your legs for my husband?!" the woman shrieked, lunging for the teacher's hair. "I'll kill you! I'll strip you of everything!"
As the hallway erupted in chaos, Yuta reached out, his hand sliding into yours with a firm, possessive grip. He led you to the top of the stairs, positioning you so you had the perfect view. He leaned into your ear, his breath was warm.
"Mrs. Fuji was having an affair with the father of one of the students here," Yuta whispered, his voice light. "Mr. Orimoto. I made sure his wife got photos this morning when she came for a private parent-teacher conference. Her daughter's files were replaced with them. Right on time for your first class."
You didn't say anything, you tilted your head, watching the teacher fall to her knees in shame as several students filmed the meltdown. You crossed your arms, feeling Yuta's taller frame right behind yours. You felt a tiny, cold spark in your chest, you couldn't help but crack into a small smile.
"Rika Orimoto's father," you repeated softly, you finally turned your head to look up, staring Yuta in his navy blue eyes. He felt happy to see you smile, knowing he did well.
As the chaos continued, a student in a plain white button up uniform and a navy blue skirt walked through the doors of the school, quickly trying to avoid the chaos. She looked angry, and slightly embarrassed, as if knowing she was somewhat part of the problem.
Rika Orimoto, first year at Tokyo Metropolitan Arts Technical Academy. Also known as your first 'X'.
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unedited; 1.31k words - next chapter
author's note; lord knows the insanity that's about to unfold...
Taglist > @alebrasil0101 , @magiccly
CHAPTER 02 - NOT NORMAL
During her free period, just before lunch, Rika marched toward the teachers lounge with a singular purpose. She needed to see the supervisor for the school’s mathlete debate team: Mr. Suguru Geto.
She found him at his desk, and without waiting for an invitation, she demanded to see her raw test results. The paper was held out to her, and there it was in bold ink: 99/100
In any other context; Rika would take this as a stepping stone in her own success, but right now? Rika just viewed this as an insult.
“I got 99%” Rika started, her voice tight with growing irritation. “Do you know how difficult getting a score like this is? Especially since I’m so busy with other important subjects? Look at the boundary between me and the others. I’m sure they all fall at 85% and below. I deserve first place!”
DEAR X - YUTA OKKOTSU
crossposted on wattpad
In which…yuta okkotsu is in love with his childhood best friend, who is a sociopath.
— Or
In which…retribution is the only way of survival. Haunted by your past, you harbored a cold heart for those who are ruining society with their own evil. With targets who you call your ‘X’s, you will ensure each and every one of them is crossed off your list.
WAIT CAN YOU DO A SMAU OF LIKE CLINGY! READER AND LIKE MEGUMI GETTING ANNOYED??
Will be posted ASAP 🫡🫡
edit; check reblogs for content <333
Y’all requests are open don’t be shyyyy
But since my inbox is empty rn let’s do a poll ‼️‼️
Which jjk character should I do an smau for next???
Megumi Fushiguro
Yuta Okkotsu
Yuji Itadori
Inumaki Toge
Gojo Satoru [nerd!jo/frat!jo edition]
Choso Kamo
Yuki Tsukumo
Maki Zenin
Other; elaborate in comments/inbox!!!
Other anime series; elaborate in comments/inbox
