#sry this isn’t proofread

[hxltic]

Heya!

First of all, I just wanna say that your stories/writing skills are AMAZING, I’m absolutely obsessed with your page tbh <3

I do wanna request another Megumi smut fic, if that’s okay. Maybe one where the (fem) reader is pretty anxious about getting intimate, but he gently talks her through it iykwim

Thank you so much pretty, and it’s perfectly okay.

You’d been thinking about it all day. So much so, that as your feet patter on the square tile of the kitchen in your shared apartment, you realize that instead of retrieving the parmesan out of the fridge, you’re pacing back and forth.

But then, every aspect of intimacy throttles into what you thought was a confirmed decision. It then splits it apart, leaving you conflicted when you thought you were done contemplating it.

You were ready. You were more than ready.

What if your ph wasn’t balanced? What if it’s not everything you dreamed of? It’s been a while since you’d actually shaved, would that turn him off? Should you wear something different? Can you even be seductive without being unable to take yourself seriously?

You shake your head at the reeling mess of hypotheticals, somewhat hoping the action would disperse them so that they dissipate into the air. Forcing one foot in front of the other with a sigh, you go to the opposite side of the kitchen, and take a seat on the stool at the bar top after plating your dinner.

And then you’re maybe two bites in before the front door’s lock rattles, clicks, and twists to invite nobody other than your beloved boyfriend in, returning from errands.

He effortlessly carries three bags of groceries in one hand, unintentionally showcasing the rings wrapped around his fingers. The other holds another two bags. He shuffles into the house, closes the door, and greets you, raising the food up high enough to rest it along the granite.

“Hey, what’s up? You made dinner early?” He stocks the milk into the refrigerator.

With a final chew, you place the fork down and rest your chin in your hands. “Yeah, I thought you told me to?”

He nods with a small curl of his lips, “I did. Told you to stop waiting up for me.”

You hum in response. It’s pretty quiet after that, just you two in each other’s presence as a couple, until he’s done with his task and gets a plate of his own. Of course, he comes to sit right beside you, but not before moving your hair out of the way and providing a gentle kiss to the forehead first. You smile, but not as bright as you usually do. He inspects your distant expression.

“Are you okay?”

Your eyes find his. You can tell he’s trying to think of anything that could possibly be wrong—something he forgot, or something he did. It’s almost instinct for your heavy emotion to lift temporarily when anyone asks this question, giving you the appearance of an excited puppy. “Yeah, yeah! I’m good. Just,” you shrug, “thinking.”

“Tell me what’s on your mind.”

You definitely have his full attention, but when he takes a bite of his dinner, he can’t help but comment on how good it is. Meanwhile, you’re slightly able to feel heat rising to your cheeks. “Uhm…I don’t know. I don’t really know how to explain it.”

By this point the smell of the food is rising into your nose from below, long forgotten as your fingers rub circles into your temple.

“Try. I’ll piece it together,” he reassures. You’ve been trying to work on your communication, as is he, but he’s usually succeeding far more at it than you are, you have to admit.

“Uhh, fuck. I’m…” It’s already difficult to convert thoughts into words, let alone thoughts like these. Oh yeah, Megumi, I’ve been thinking about you fucking me for a while now. It’s even harder when you can feel him staring dead at you with those tender eyes, just waiting patiently for an answer. “Ready to take our relationship— further?”

Your shoulders haunch up protectively when you turn your attention to him, whose eyebrows are furrowed a bit, attempting to comprehend what you just said. It then looks like it hits him, but he inquires anyway, “Further, how?”

You pout, “Are you going to make me say it, Megumi?”

The man wasn’t stupid; he knew exactly what you were asking for. But the culpability of being incorrect would make him feel like the worst person on the damned planet, and this would tell you that he was “hoping” you would say something about sex. He knows you. It implies that the topic was on his mind beforehand, ultimately enhancing the pressure since you then would know he was thinking about it.

But truth be told, he wasn’t. When you said you wanted to take it slow, he was completely okay with that. Of course—there’s no denying the amplification of his hormones when you’re fresh out of the shower, walking around braless in a large tee, shorts, and wet hair—but it was never enough to push you into something you weren’t ready for. It would never be. All he had to do was take a shower, whether extra long or cold.

“Are you sure? You do understand that, no matter what, you come before your body, right?”

“Of course. You’ve always made me feel safe, and I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t done the thinking. I’m just nervous, I guess? I want it to be good for you, but I haven’t really done this before.”

“I guarantee you, there literally isn’t anything you could do that would make it a bad experience for me.” His smile spreads a grin to your features, lifting your mood a little. “And you don’t have to be nervous— I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

“Finish your food. I know you’ve had a long day and you need energy for the scandalous acts you’ve committed to,” he adds. You giggle at the joke, suddenly feeling lightweight from the anchor that he’d single-handedly lifted off you.

Only to leave as quickly as it came because that meant you had to get ready for tonight.

——•——

After taking one more shower before he took his, you’re already in bed after dinner, curled up watching the light from the tv fill the room every time you change the channel. The smell of strawberries and coconut bounces off you, probably now into the fibers of the bed, and you’re as smooth as a baby. Everywhere.

The door to the bedroom suddenly opens, revealing Megumi with a towel draped low around his waist, hair fallen, dripping all over the carpet, and cut abdomen a distraction from whatever show you had playing.

The best part about having had that conversation is that you don’t have to conceal your feelings or the throb between your legs anymore. There’s no guilt from knowing the two of you will only get to kissing, desperately trying to find some friction.

Megumi leisurely walks over to the closet, entertained by your low eyes trained to him like a moth to a flame. You don’t even notice his amused gaze. “Can I help you with something?” He teases, eyebrows dipping into a smirk.

Your eyes finally shoot up, but you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed. “Maybe.”

He chuckles, opening a drawer to grab some sweats. “We just talked, like, an hour and a half ago, and you’re already about to pounce on me.”

“Oh please— tell me you don’t feel the same way.”

You carelessly throw the remote down. Megumi disappears, then reappears, pants on and ruffling the towel to dry his hair. When he finishes, he comes to his side of the bed, pinches your chin delicately, and tilts it up to him. His voice was lower, and velvety sweet. He knew he could ask you to do anything if he spoke like this.

“You know I do.”

The ravenette allows you to kiss him softly, but he keeps it short. It’s just enough for a huff to leave your mouth when he pulls away. “We don’t have to do this tonight. There’s no deadline for me to be inside of you,” he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

You’d think he was talking about taxes with how casually he said it. Now that was what embarrassed you. “Right. Yeah.”

You force a smile to your face and turn away, going back to the tv, trying your best to ignore the growing heat in your stomach and the sudden disappointment of your work going to waste.

He observes that you don’t actually look satisfied, and was instead shuffling and moving awkwardly. To be fair, he knew what it looked like when you were horny.

“Unless, of course, it was what you really wanted.”

Then you look to him, and when he slowly pans back at you, knowing you took the bait, he immediately understands the severity of how you feel by the undercurrent of desperation in your eyes. You seemed to need him. His eyes slightly widen.

You didn’t just randomly want to have sex with him; it had been growing over time. Every kiss, lick, and touch began to lose its fervor when you’d already known the outcome— when it would stop. You’d just finally been able to vocalize it.

“Come here,” he opens his arms up to you. The bed bounces when you throw the covers off and crawl to him, resting atop his lap and clearing his view to the tv. He didn’t mind; he has a better one.

The friction you get from his legs, pathetically, has you shifting before getting fully situated. His hands come to rest in the dip of your hips to keep you still. But he knows.

“You understand that I love you...”

It was said declaratively, like he was sure, but just in case he was wrong, you could speak up. His eyes carried a kindness to them and his cushiony voice melted your brain. “I do.”

“And you understand what you truly want? You’re sure I’m who you want to be your first?”

You nod. “And hopefully my last.”

“Then I want you to know that anything after this,” he waves his hand in a circling motion, “You are in complete control of. Tell me to wait, I will. Tell me to stop, and I’m sure as hell pulling out, taking my hands off you, whatever, all in an instant. And don’t feel bad about anything you say to me. Ever.”

Soaking in the lecture, being unable to ignore as if they were terms and conditions, makes you fathom how serious this is. He’s speaking earnestly because you did before, hence when you begged to take it slow the day you started dating (he confirmed he didn’t mind, but you truthfully didn’t believe him as per past relationships). In this heart to heart, you looked into his dark blue eyes, wondering how you managed to find someone like him that would wait a million years for your trust.

“Okay. Likewise, I want you to teach me. That way in the future I can be better at what you like.”

A finger comes to brush a tendril of hair behind your ear as you mindlessly fiddle with your thumbs. “You are what I like, beautiful.”

And then you can’t resist feeling the sight in front of you, the same one the pads of your fingers have memorized from repetition, so with a featherlight touch, your hands separate and design delicate swirls into his v-line, trailing only up to about his belly button.

You love seeing his muscles contract when he twitches since everything he does seems to send a shiver down your spine.

Widening your fingers as they rise, they stretch the span of his chest. There’s a low hum when you make sure to lightly drag your nails across his skin, reminding you to shift your focus to his expression. He was already staring at you through his eyelashes.

Your lips find his in the slowest, most sultry manner you can control. Both hands card through his semi-damp locks, quickening his breath alone, while his take rest at the band of your sleep shorts. And just when you think he’s going to slip his fingers through the silk, he grabs you with a firm grip and rolls over so your back is to the sheets, leaving you still pawing at his nape.

The experience increases in heat as it does speed. You were smothered with his presence but you wouldn’t have it any other way. He connects your lips one last time before he parts to share his kisses on other spots of your body, including your jaw, collarbone, and once he gets the thin shirt you’re wearing off— your chest.

And he does just that, peeking up at you first for confirmation you two share the same idea. You answer by lifting and helping him tug it off.

You reach your hands up past your ribs to the swell of your breasts, massaging them, unable to look him in the eye.

“Look at me.”

Well fuck.

You do, and just then he’s placing his free hand over yours, ultimately pilfering its spot entirely, and taking his time to lick around the bud, swirling it into his mouth. It’s his first time hearing the whine that came out of you. He will hear it again.

He does the other the same, hardening the peaks only to leave them be with a conclusive squeeze. “Do you like that?”

You manage, “Yes.”

He kisses down your stomach, leaving a hum in response, and drags his fingers down even further to ghost over the fabric of your panties. “Lace?”

“Yeah, for you.” You shiver at his touch.

His thumb circles over your clit as his chin tips down to shift his eyes around the garment. “How long have you been planning this?”

“It started last week.” Your chest rises and falls when you giggle, it ultimately dissolving into a breathy moan once he applies a deeper pressure. “I took a trip to the mall.”

There’s no response. His hand draws up to the sides of your waist, pausing to give you more slow, endearing kisses along the band.

“I wore it so you could take it off, Megumi.”

“Great.”

And just like that, he’s sliding it off you, down your thighs and throwing them elsewhere behind him. “Can you open up for me?” He coos.

There’s a coil beginning in your tummy, and you aren’t exactly sure if it’s because you’re already throbbing or if the embarrassment is just now settling in. No matter what, you just want him to do something. You spread them.

He groans at the sight of you. Bare.

“Fuck, you’re something else.”

With some hint of friction to stabilize himself, he shifts his hips against the bed, then he dips his head into your center.

You’ve thought about what it would feel like when he “eats you out.” Would it feel slimy and trigger your sensory issues? Would you squirm in disgust or ecstasy? Would it feel like anything?

And now, you finally have an answer, because after the swipe of his tongue on your inner thigh, there’s a warmth you associate with the muscle of his tongue dragging between your lips. Involuntarily, you do begin to squirm.

He does it again, sealing his mouth over you. The unpredictability of where you will feel him next is thrilling despite being now sat up lazily on your elbows.

There’s no doubt it’s making you feel something and it’s starting to gather. So much in fact that the sight of his angled nose and eyebrows between your legs may be too much to handle. You don’t render it as pleasure quite yet though.

“That feels kinda weird,” you mumble honestly. The rumble of his chuckle surges through your stomach as he pulls his face away for only a moment.

“Here,” he utters, and you’re expecting him to do something to help when he shuffles, but suddenly, a single finger prods at your wetness until it’s sinking seamlessly. “This is something you’re familiar with, right?”

Immediately, a gasp forces itself out. You’d done it yourself before so he wasn’t wrong, but when it’s him toying with you and his long finger, it’s a little different. “Mhmm.”

Now he’s really pulling the noises from you. He curls the one finger experimentally; Left, your hip twists. Right, your breathing picks up. Straight up, and your back arches.

He doesn’t take his time sucking up your clit and anything you release for him, the lewd sounds his mouth creates enough to support that, but how can he help it when he thinks about how bad you wanted it? He’s gotta make it count.

On that note, his tongue drags up from your hole to the nub and his head shifts to the side for a better angle. At the same time that he repetitively curls his finger into the spot he observes you like best, he slurps your clit, only to release it wetter than it went in and do it again. There’s a messy sheen of saliva and your slick coating his chin and a dot on his nose.

His palm snakes around the thigh he isn’t practically laying on to your lower stomach and rests it there so you feel everything but tenfold. It wasn’t to keep you still; he likes the chase.

“That feels s-so good, Meg,” you praise, watching his thick eyelashes flutter open when you speak, but somehow still looking like he has no idea what you said. The tingle was getting stronger and stronger, now converting to a hot fire resonating just under his palm. He adds another finger. One of your hands that wrapped around your breast drives into his dark locks. “Oh God—”

When he groans at the feeling is when your body tenses and cinches up, holding onto him for dear life, chasing something not quite too far, but the contorted countenance your features hold instantly lets him know how you feel.

“Let it go, I got you.” He speeds up the finger gyrating through the cushiony walls.

“Megumi.”

“Come for me, baby.”

You relax just enough to feel the entire distant, solitude of your orgasm; but at the same time, it didn’t feel lonely at all. He was right there, quite literally fucking you through it, but it didn’t feel lewd or sexual at all. It was the first time you’d felt anything like it.

It was like you were somehow spiritually connected as well and emotionally and physically, and there wasn’t anything to separate you from him as every ounce of your being was woven together.

Fuck, you’re already this sentimental and he hadn’t even put it inside yet.

Returning back to the Earth was as hard as it sounds, but the fall is a lot easier when Megumi is there to mitigate it.

On the other side— when you release the iron grip of his finger, he can finally remove it. The only sound in the room is your own heavy breathing.

“Are you okay?” He wipes his chin carelessly.

“It kinda felt like... like I was dying. But good.”

“Perfect, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yeah.”

He nods in approval. Anxiously, your feet rub against each other. His hands trickle around his waist as he slides off the bed, but he notices the staring just before he kicks his pants off.

Instead, he comes around to the side of the room, near the bedside table, only propping a knee up on the comforter to get closer so he can ease you into what he’s about to do next. “Give me your hand,” he suggests.

Without thinking you oblige, but your curious eyes blow wide when he begins to lead it onto his lower abdomen and deeper until both of you, in one movement, are smoothing over trimmed hair and down the length of skin. He was obviously erect beforehand, pressing through the fabric as if needing an escape, but feeling it is something else. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when he cups your hand and drags a slow stroke all the way up to his tip and back. Similarly, he releases a shameless, airy moan of his own.

He does it again, and again, then feels that you’ve gathered enough confidence to do it yourself. Which you do—by the time he lets go, you’re already fully wrapped around him and feeling what you can’t see. You follow what he did.

His body slightly moves when he facetiously laughs, but it somehow removes the nerves and duplicates simultaneously.

“What?” You blink up at him.

“Nothing. You’re just so delicate with it.”

“Shut up. I’ll rip it off.”

“Please do,” he laughs once more, bringing an imminent smile to your face, and then he moves to push his pants down his hips. You can’t help but stare at his length in your hands.

He was right, you seemed to be barely gripping him, right before the tip. It was a smooth descent to the shaft, colored a muted shade of pink.

You pop back into reality. Squeezing, you earn a grunt. It was slightly harder to move now. There were only a few ways to lubricate his cock that you had on hand, and the best way that you had been curious to try is right next to it already.

You correct your positioning laying sideways on your elbow, the other hand curled around him, and he almost recoils when you stick your tongue out and look up for his reaction as you press your head forward. A deep sigh flows from his chest.

It wasn’t bad, and didn’t taste like anything, so you do it again, enclosing your lips softly over his tip. He wanted to let you explore so he stayed silent.

You had began to bob your head to cover some distance while trying not to choke yourself, and that’s when he gives the instruction, “Breathe through your nose. Don’t stop breathing.”

It does make it just a little easier as you keep going, but not much, so you pop off and roll your hand around his slick cock now that it was wetter. You sit up completely, tracking the other hand to his balls, praying it’s a myth that boys don’t feel anything there. Hopefully, it will make up for your sensitive gag reflex. “Sorry,” you mutter.

He holds his hair up with his arm, the other hand brushing through yours. His eyes are barely open and accompanied by a darkness brewing inside his pupils. “What did I say?”

You search over your brain for the memory. “Not to feel bad.”

“Yes. And don’t jump to conclusions. You don’t even know how fucking close I am to exploding.”

With that, he removes himself from your hold and reaches down to swiftly grasp your ankles. Yelping, you come sliding down. His pelvis is connected to your ass.

His lips can never stray too far from yours. Just when you’re expecting the deep fervor from not having ever gotten this far, or maybe just having not kissed since you were perched atop his thighs, he resonates his love in the cloud-like puff of his lips. Just when you begin to moan softly while placing a hand on his cheek, he pulls a few inches away.

“You ready?” He rubs over your clit a few times with his thumb. “What do you want me to do? Condom? Birth control? Both?”

You fidget underneath him, shoulders raised high and cheeks reddening. “I’m on birth control. Can you wear one anyway though?”

Your little voice as if he would have any type of negative reaction hurts his heart. “Of course.”

Just as he turns around, you add, “there are some…uh… in my purse.”

“In your purse?” He quirks a brow, smiling.

“I told you I’d been planning this…”

Moments later he returns with the small packet in hand just to rip it and casually roll it onto himself. His eyes focus and his brows furrow.

“Hmm.”

“What?” You sit up. Finally, you spot the problem, most importantly, how the base of the plastic stops about four fifths of the way down his shaft.

“What size did you get?”

“I don’t know. I asked for whatever the average was.”

“Have you no faith in me?” He lightly presses you back down to your back. “Do I look average to you?”

No.

Not like you knew, but you could imagine.

“We’ll make it work. Hold on to me,” he assures. You do just that in an attempt to run away from the embarrassment and link your arms around his neck.

Before you know it he’s patting your dripping pussy, lining himself up, tipping his head up to nip at your neck, and prodding at your entrance.

“Oh shit,” he hears you under your breath. He didn’t mean to laugh, but it slipped.

“What? You scared?”

No reply.

“It’s okay, you’re in charge. Take a deep breath.”

When he feels you inhale under him is when he takes the chance and inches in, pulling a gasp from your lungs right into his ear. Both of you curse at the same time. “Megumi.”

“Breathe, baby.” He inches in farther, not quite bottomed out yet, but closer. Your back raises from the duvet. “You’re almost there.”

One more deep breath that you have to actually, manually breathe out, finally has him buried inside you to the hilt. “Good girl.”

You were delirious. You wouldn’t be able to believe what is actually happening if it weren’t for the uncomfortable throb below you. It didn’t burn; it was just a pinch from the stretch, which is the best case scenario from all the ways you imagined it would go. Wriggling around to try and speed things up, you were unknowingly killing the man above.

His breathing picks up because, fuck, you were so tight, and whoever said the condom takes away some of that is a fucking liar. Or maybe they weren’t, and if you ever allow him to, going bare might just be on his headstone. You were latched onto him with all your might both on the outside and the inside.

“Tell me—”

“—You can move.”

You accidentally cut him off, but before you can feel bad about it, he’s pulling out, slowly but surely, and turning up your eyebrows when he returns.

A few more of these, a few more “are you okays” from Megumi, a few more of your nods “yes”— and the pain dissipates. Your hums dissolve into low moans that wisp against his neck.

“Does it hurt?” He lifts his head and looks down at you cautiously, searching for pain.

“I’m okay Meg, you’ve asked a thousand times.”

“Do you want me to speed up?” His hands change from your hips to your thighs, then to your legs. His body language portrays that he is nervous. He’d been so focused on you that it slipped your mind how he felt. What better way to calm him down than to get him riled up?

“You’re saying you’ll fuck me now?”

It seemed to work perfectly. His eyes blew wide for a split second hearing your voice say something so demanding and vulgar, but he raised his chest high, took a mean grip around your hips, and pulled all the way out. When he presses in, his hips have a small curve to add some distance, and persists like this with increasing speed. The sound in the apartment grows.

There’s a constant movement from the bed going back and forth because of the rhythm he set. With each thrust your jaw drops further. There wasn’t unimaginable speed, but he was pounding against the fat of your ass each time. One of his hands finds your bouncing breast.

“When did you get so needy?” He asks. He wasn’t even grunting or anything, just very accurately moving his hips so his cock stretches the length of your walls.

“When—”

His fingers quickly squish your puffy cheeks together while he bends over close to your face. “Don’t answer that, smartass,” he pecks you on the lips.

The familiar warmth was building within you. Your arms reach up to connect around his back, locking him to your figure and keeping the angle of his thrusts low. You were already finding ways that you liked. Him not too far and his pelvis running against your clit as he grinds. Somehow, you manage to shake him off your face.

Not even to say anything, just to squeeze your eyes shut and release useless words and whines into the atmosphere with your red cheek to his shoulder. He did catch one word though, “closer”, and even though you cannot possibly be any closer than you are, he would try until you’re satisfied.

Testing your flexibility, he hikes both your knees up until they’re almost touching the comforter below and brings them together. This initially makes you feel farther apart with a barrier called your own legs, but then he leans forward on his toes so far that it pushes you deeper into the bed and his nose less than a breath away from yours. He curls his arms around your legs and lifts your head to dig his fingers through your hair before allowing you to rest your head again. How you’re balled up makes you feel so little.

No, to him, you feel more than little; the closeness of your thighs squeezing together removes a significant amount of space on its own. He gazes deep into your eyes when you whisper “There.”

He hadn’t moved yet, but he could conclude his tip brushed past it as he was trying to get situated. It doesn’t take long for him to find the patch again by the way your eyes flicker back and forth in front of his. The his hips lift, and he relies on gravity to slam him back down.

“Fuck!” You squeal, twisting your waist to no avail with his weight atop yours. He hits the spot dead on. “Hngh, m’ gonna come s-soon.”

He has an aggravating look on his face like none of this affects him but you know it does. The twitch of his cock says so. “Oh yeah? Can you feel it?”

“Yes! Yes—stop teasing.” The words come out slightly muffled by your scrunched up position. He continues pounding down, the squelch and slapping of skin loud in your ears. It felt like he was reaching your belly button. Every now and then a grunt would push past his mouth.

“But I’m not. Are you sure you haven’t already? You don’t hear that? Or is your pretty pussy just that wet for me?”

You could hear it along with the creak of the bed, but none of it matters when he comes forward, just a little more, to taste the swell of your lips, catching all of your moans in a sultry kiss. “Meggg,” you whimper, eyes hanging low and fresh painted toes dancing in the air though every thrust.

“Yes?”

He wasn’t supposed to actually reply, but he only did because he knows you’ll provide an answer if he wants you to. You croak, “Please don’t stop,” to both him and the universe.

“That’s not something you want, beautiful.”

And you take it just how it is— a warning, because now that he’s had a taste of you, he’ll go until sunrise. He glances down to where you connect to a somewhat cleaner situation that when he was buried between your legs the first time. It was wet, no doubt, but he wouldn’t want it any other way. “Push against me.”

What? Is what he takes the way your eyes peel open as.

“Try to push me out.”

When you finally understand his advice, a light groan turns into a full on cry of his name. He immediately regrets it because you tighten around him, removing the already little space necessary for him to move, almost making him spill on the spot while dragging your nails down the span of his back. He hadn’t known that was what would set you off. Oops.

“Damn,” his brows dip together and his head drops to yours. He decides to suck on the thin skin of your neck as you, like he asked, try to push him out, as well as the rest of the silky white he has clogged. Of course, he was pushing back with just enough strength. Your face was turning red with how hard and unexpected your orgasm hit.

Now, a few more thrusts (that are more deep grinds) to ride out your high is enough to tip him over the edge. He grabs the base of his cock as he pulls out quickly, making sure to hold on to the plastic. Despite how tired you are, you still feel empty.

The second he’s out, he rips the condom off, soothing the skin of your leg with one hand and the other wrapped around his length and quickly twisting the tip. Huh, you were being delicate, you realize.

Watching through deep, weighty breaths as he works himself, it takes everything in you to sit up on your own and wait patiently. It tells him all he needs to know by your posture.

He finally groans loudly, nothing to your volume though, cursing over and over when your hand comes up to knead his balls as the white comes out in spurts all over your chest. It was mostly your breasts, but some tainted your collarbone and chin too.

He finally comes back to Earth sometime later and wipes away the spot on your chin with his thumb before it drips.

“Fuck, sorry,” he breathes.

Before he can get too far, you wrap your lips around the pad of his thumb, sucking it and more off. You get all the way to his bottom knuckle, smiling as you watch his eyes zone in on the action. You remove yourself with a pop.

In case you didn’t know—yeah, he was hard again.

©️hxltic

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[luv4fushi]

omfg i litr read everything uve written off ur masterlist I NEED MOREEEE. i love the way u write megumi especially, i couldn’t get enough of it. i hope you write more of him, my heart aches for more tbh 🥹 tysm for being such a good writer and feeding us starved readers well

tysm! i'm sooo glad i can be a good source of megumi content for you >_< i looove writing megumi so you'll be seeing sooo much more of him, dw! happy holidays!

this december

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

it’s always colder on your own, especially around this time of year. you should be at home, bundled up with a warm cup of hot chocolate, but here you are in shinjuku, exorcizing curses with your ex boyfriend two weeks after your breakup with him. great.

content: post break up, aged up megumi (19/20), megumi is terrible at feelings, getting back together, fluff if you squint, a bit of angst, miscommunication, one bed (but it isn’t the main plot point sorry), megumi calls you baby like once, gojo is the best wingman, SHIBUYA ARC NEVER HAPPENED AND LIFE IS GOOD, not proofread im very sorry guys pls forgive me, kinda a word dump sry

word count: 5.8k (sigh this was supposed to be 2k words max)

click on my masterlist for more & merry christmas to those who celebrate!

it’s december 19th when satoru gojo tells you that he has a mission just for you. you’re less than ecstatic about it to say the least. the last thing you want to do is be sent to your death just shy of christmas day. you just want to rest your sore muscles and bask in the presence of your best friends. you’re not in the mood to kill any curses, mainly because you’ve just recovered from a previous mission.

“why me?” you groan.

gone are the days where you used to be a goody two shoes for satoru. you’re old enough to talk back now, not like when you had been a shy fifteen-year-old girl. besides, you’ve been around the silver-haired sorcerer long enough to know that he doesn’t mind the bite.

“sorry, kid,” satoru says with a shrug. at least he sounds genuine about it. “the higher ups requested for you specifically. they say you’ll get the job done in the cleanest way. we can’t have things getting messy before the holidays, right?”

“and you wouldn’t be the best choice?” you quip.

satoru only laughs. he ruffles your hair. even with your growth spurt and merciless training, he still towers over you. in a way, he’ll always be your mentor. “hey, i’m going out of town that weekend. give me a break.”

you huff petulantly. something about this mission seems fishy to you. you’re not nearly the strongest sorcerer out of the bunch of kids under satoru’s wings (not that you guys are kids anymore, but sometimes it’s hard to feel otherwise). hell, there’s the kyoto students. it feels like they never have to do anything. you wish that you were rebellious enough to chew utahime out for it.

“why couldn’t they just make yuta or megumi go?” you mutter under your breath. you stammer out megumi’s name and hope satoru doesn’t catch on to the way you can barely say it.

satoru knows about the breakup. why wouldn’t he? he’s basically megumi’s dad, even if the raven haired boy refuses to admit it. satoru’s six eyes mean you can’t hide anything from him (he’d been the first to know that megumi was head over heels for you).

satoru raises a brow. “oh, right. megumi’s coming along too.”

your face twists and you immediately whip around to glare at him. “you’re lying.”

“i wish,” he jokes. “i was really hoping i’d get a wedding invitation one day, you little rascal. i can’t believe you two broke up. maybe this’ll be a good thing!”

“i appreciate your honesty, but—”

“but megumi’s an emotionally constipated kid, yeah, that i know,” satoru laughs. he makes his way to the exit of his office which has you furrowing your brows. is your former teacher actually gonna just leave after making you come all the way here? how rude and so very in character of him.

“please, gojo,” you call out after him, “i don’t wanna go with him.”

“sucks for you,” satoru responds halfheartedly. “merry christmas. try not to take more than a week on this. you’ll have to pay the rest of the fee for accommodations if you do.”

“gojo!” you whine.

“it’s not a hard mission!” satoru insists like it’ll make your life any easier. “y’know, this time of year is when things get ugly. think of it as saving as many people as you can while putting in the least amount of effort!”

and then he teleports. your former teacher teleports away rather than being normal and walking out of the door. you roll your eyes and hope that he can sense it (you know he can’t).

so that’s why you’re here now. with your ex. on the elevator to your assigned room on the tenth floor. you’re so glad that it’s a normal hotel and not a love hotel. lord knows what you’d do if you had checked into a love hotel.

megumi hasn’t spoken a word to you since he broke up with you two weeks ago. it had been in the doorway to your apartment a few days after a particularly rough mission assigned to the both of you—the one you’re still recovering from. he’d pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet words into your ear. he gave you a look, one of those looks that made him soften his usually sharp eyes.

“i think we should break up.”

and then came the pathetic whimper of yours. he had wiped your tears, even kissed them tenderly, before telling you that it wasn’t your fault—it was his. how cliche.

now as you stand next to him, you want to beat yourself up for not asking for closure. neither of you had explicitly stated that you two were going to be no-contact, but it hurts a lot less to push the idea of forever with megumi away to the back of your mind. besides, you two aren’t confrontational like that. not with each other, anyway.

“need help?” his tone is soft, tender—the tone he reserves specifically for you, the one that tells you he still cares.

you stare down at the luggage at your feet. you’ve always been a chronic overpacker, a habit that megumi knows of by now. he watches you curiously, hands itching at his sides. you can tell that he wants to reach out and grab your suitcase like he always does. he thinks he isn’t obvious, but you can always read through the lines, especially when it’s megumi.

“i’m okay,” you croak out, clearing your throat awkwardly.

the elevator dings and you make your way to your room. as much as you hate to admit it, you’re sort of glad that you and your ex boyfriend are sharing a room. perhaps his’ll be a good way to get closure, though you’re not really sure what closure entails.

what you don’t expect is to unlock the door and be met with a singular bed.

if satoru gojo didn’t have a layer of infinity coating his body (and if he wasn’t the strongest sorcerer alive), you would’ve wrung out his neck.

megumi simply walks into the room, setting his duffel bag down on one of the dressers opposite from the foot of the bed. he doesn’t comment on the lack of double beds, seemingly already aware of the set up.all he does is puff out a weary sigh. you suck in a breath and follow him inside, slipping your shoes off at the entrance.

you lug your suitcase in after you along with your duffel bag and backpack. you stumble forward and megumi’s arm snakes around your waist, steadying you.

“careful,” he mutters, nonchalantly taking your bag off our your shoulders.

it’s a quick series of movements; he swings your bag over his shoulders and places it on the dresser next to the one he’s claimed while guiding you softly to the side of the bed so that you’re not standing in the middle of the doorway.

you scrunch your face, feeling your heart thump against your ribcage. it���s stupid how he still has such a hold on you, even after two weeks of not seeing or talking to him. he’s just so caring, so gentle. it stings, like little the little cuts you get when fighting curses, when you realize that this is something you’ll have to learn how to lose.

“thanks,” you manage to mutter. you don’t trust yourself to say anything else. you know from the way your throat tightens that you’ll be crying soon if you force yourself to talk any more.

“i can take the couch,” megumi says.

it’s that easy with him; he’s a gentleman, so of course he’d take the couch. that’s the way megumi fushiguro is—he offers a solution before you even have the chance to complain. in your year and a half long relationship, that skill of his had been a saving grace.

“no, don’t bother,” you croak. “i’ll book another room.”

“really?” he asks. he stands up a little straighter, awkwardly reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “i mean, i don’t mind sharing a room with you… we’ve..”

we’ve shared a room countless of times before.

megumi doesn’t have to continue his sentence for you to understand what he’s implying. you part your lips to speak, but nothing comes out except for a long, heavy sigh. your shoulders drop as you let the exhaustion seep into your bones. there’s no use arguing about it, not when you don't’ mind sharing a room with megumi, either.

“we’ve broken up,” you remind him in a quiet voice, like you’re afraid saying it out loud will make it truer than it already is.

megumi pauses. you see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “i know that, but … it’ll be fine. we’ve shared a room as friends before.”

he’s right, like he usually is. you two have shared a room before as just friends, but that had been as teenagers—back when you both harbored such hardcore crushes on each other that you two somehow didn’t notice.

“right,” you find yourself agreeing with a small nod.

“you should go get ready for bed.” megumi begins grabbing a few or the decorative pillow off of the bed. he places them gingerly on the brown couch tucked in the corner of the hotel room. “we’ll be getting up pretty early to deal with the brunt of the mission.”

to finish this mission as quickly as possible, you think.

and so you oblige and head to the bathroom. it’s december 19th, just a few days shy of christmas day, and you’re in bed with your ex boyfriend on the couch just a few feet away.

december 20th greets you with megumi hovering over you. he peers down at you with his messy bangs covering his eyes. they’re piercingly blue as he blinks. his lashes flutter perfectly, even in the early morning. your eyes meet his and you jolt awake.

“good morning,” he says. “your alarm has been ringing for a bit now, so i turned it off.”

you blink rapidly, getting the tiredness out of your eyes. “oh.”

he chuckles softly, just enough for you to catch it with your ears. he rises from his crouched position and heads to the front door. he spares you a glance over his shoulder before he heads out, presumably giving you the privacy you need. you let out a strangled breath before you swing your legs over the bed and head to the bathroom.

by the time you’re finished putting on your uniform, you swing the door to your hotel room open and see megumi leaned up against the wall, tapping away on his phone. his dark blue eyes flicker up to you and he turns away to head down the hall.

you furrow your brows. you can’t help but think that he’s being a little cold to you. it isn’t like you initiated the breakup. despite your frustration with his behavior, you can sort of understand why he wouldn’t want to be sweet around you; you two aren’t dating anymore and so it makes sense that he’d go back to being aloof in your presence, the usual way he acts around everyone else. losing that position in his life makes your stomach churn for reasons you’re less than willing to uncover.

your mission is a vague one; all you know is that it’s a clean-up mission. rather than a level 1 curse (or even a special grade), the mission consists of an acclimation of weak curses surrounding shinjuku. these missions are normally given to younger, more inexperienced sorcerers with the help of a senior sorcerer, but for an odd reason, it’s been given to you and megumi this year. megumi could’ve probably handled it himself. actually, you could’ve handled it yourself.

you bite your tongue to hold back on your complaints as you walk just a step behind megumi. he pauses regularly, waiting for you to catch up to his side. you roll your eyes in secret. does he not realize that you don’t want to walk next to him?

“it’s all just bars,” you mutter.

with that, you earn a tiny laugh from megumi. “well, yeah. this is the red-light district of shinjuku.”

you pale. “this sucks.”

“why do you think i wanted to come out here in the morning rather than at night?” he says, his tone strangely light.

“to deal with the brunt of the mission,” you repeat his words from last night sarcastically. you’re unsure as to what he’s talking about, so you think that it’s okay to give him a little bit of attitude.

he raises his brow but doesn’t comment on your sarcasm. instead, he says softly, “no, stupid. it’s because this is the red-light district. it’s unsafe for anyone, especially a pretty, young girl alone at night.”

your first thought is to coo and tease him. you think i’m pretty? it takes you half a second to remember that you two are broken up. you scoff, “i’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“i never said you weren’t,” megumi shoots back. “it would just be annoying explaining to the higher ups why you were fighting people and not curses.”

“i’m sure they’d understand,” you retort, frowning. you cross your arms.

“don’t be so pouty,” he says in that stupid, gentle tone he uses with you when you’re acting bratty.

you both decide to split up. well, it’s more like you demand the two of you to split up. you say it under the pretense that it’ll get the job done faster. besides, you both want to be home before christmas day, right?

there’s about two curses you cross paths with every hour. you’re starting to lose your mind. shouldn’t the streets be infested with them? you don’t even need a veil! all you have to do is give the weak curses just one punch and they vaporize on the spot. your head is running with hundreds of thoughts.

that’s when it hits you: the first years at the tokyo jujutsu school did come out here a week prior! maybe they did a bad job? but you remember nobara had been the one to lead the group. she may half-ass almost everything in her life, but she wouldn’t jeopardize her underclassmen for the sake of her freetime.

so why on earth are you here? it’s not like there are enough harmful curses for a mission to be assigned to you right before christmas, and to you and megumi of all sorcerers. you’re both strong enough to the point of having some kind of importance in the jujutsu world. the higher ups wouldn’t send the two of you on some stupid mission for the sake of it unless they’re planning some sort of secret execution. but even then, satoru gojo should’ve known through their lies to not send you or megumi. unless…he wants you two dead…?

you shake your head and bite your nails. the sun begins to set and you realize that you’ve been out here for longer than you expected. you’re starting to feel a chill in your bones—you had argued petulantly with megumi earlier about not wanting to wear your jacket despite it being the dead of winter; “it’s gonna get in the way!”

you always seem to forget the the sun sets earlier in the winter. it’s stupid how bright all the lights are in shinjuku. there isn’t a square foot of anything that isn’t lit up with neon signs reading out the names of clubs and bars. you see couples and large groups of people walking along the streets.

it’s lonely, you realize. it would’ve been less lonely with megumi.

you make your way to the meeting spot with megumi. you both share a few small words before retiring for the night. megumi says he wants to go sightseeing, even though there’s really nothing much to see. he doesn’t return to the hotel room until late at night.

when he slips into the only bed that the room offers, you chalk it up to the slight alcohol you smell on his lips. it feels so natural that you don’t push him away even though you should. his body is warm and you fit so perfectly against his broad chest that you think it’ll be okay for you to be a little selfish tonight.

“g’night,” megumi mumbles in his sleep.

you smile and nuzzle closer.

it’s december 21st as you realize how late it is in the day. megumi is back on the couch. you feel a tinge of disappointment in the bottom of your stomach.

to no one’s surprise, the sun is barely peeking over the buildings when you’re finally back in the red-light district. you’re doing the last bit of cleanup, but there’s really nothing much for you to clean.

tomorrow, you’ll be heading to a shopping mall, so you suppose you should do your best to sniff out the rest of the curses littering the place unless you want to stay here an extra day. the day is, yet again, slow.

it’s nearing 8 PM and you're finally sure that you’ve gotten rid of all the curses in the general area. you’ve been done for quite a while now, but you just haven’t found the courage to let megumi know that you’re ready to go back to the hotel room. a little sightseeing on your end wouldn’t hurt, right?

“hi, pretty.” a gravelly voice, battered by cigarettes, whispers in your ear.

you jump in surprise. you need to remember not to get too far into your head. you should’ve felt his presence coming from a mile away. it’s a terrible habit and satoru has scolded you for years about it.

“hi,” you mutter, pushing past his larger frame.

the man isn’t as nicely built as the men you know (but then again, your friends are jujutsu sorcerers, so it’s kind of hard to beat that), but he still towers over you. he’s got a squad of rough-looking guys behind him, smirking down at you.

“why’s someone like you alone?” he says, shoving his arm to loop around your waist.

you roll your eyes, getting ready to punch the man square in the nose. will you get in trouble? probably yes. will it be a funny story to tell? also probably yes.

“don’t touch my wife.”

the group of men turn their heads along with you to see megumi. his expression is shrouded with a mixture of anger and frustration. you blink in confusion—megumi usually looks pretty pissed off, but this is the most angry you’ve seen him in a while. and ‘wife’? what’s up with that?

“oh, my bad,” the man chuckles. “didn’t know this pretty thing was married.”

“this ‘pretty thing’ wants you to let her go,” you say with an overly sweet smile. your teeth clench and you hiss, “right now.”

the guy scurries down the sidewalk with his buddies trailing along, making fun of him for hitting on a married woman. nobody mentions the lack of a ring on your finger. nobody mentions the lack of a relationship, either.

“wife?” you scowl. “we’re broken up.”

“guys tend to back up when they know a woman is married. it’s the only way you can really, uh, get them to go away around here.”

you glare at him. “and how would you know? you come here often with girls?”

“...no?” he blinks, unable to comprehend your sudden burst of jealousy. “i sometimes get missions around here, though. pretending to be married was the easiest way—”

“we aren’t, though. we’re not even in a relationship.” you seem to be throwing that into his face a lot more than you should. you can’t help it, though. you still feel a little bitter about not getting a real reason as to why megumi wanted to break up.

“i was trying to help you.” he’s calm and collected, as heard through his voice. he walks up to you and takes your freezing hand into his much warmer ones. “let’s go home.”

“i don’t want to,” you argue.

“stop being a brat,” he says, but there’s no bite to his words. “you’re cold and you’ve been out here all day. if i hadn’t stopped those guys, you probably would’ve beat them up pretty badly.”

“i’m not a fucking brat!” you try to retract your hand, but megumi’s grip only tightens.

“baby, stop,” the pet name rolls off his tongue with ease. megumi sighs softly and pulls you to his chest. “why are you so worked up, hm?”

from the way he speaks, you can tell that he already has an inkling. the breakup. cuddling last night. hugging you now. everything.

you don’t realize you’re crying until he gently wipes his thumb under your eye. he has the audacity to have an amused grin plastered on his stupidly pretty lips. your vision is blurry but if it hadn’t been, you would’ve thrown a punch.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers into your hair. “it’s all my fault.”

“it is,” you whimper pathetically. all the tears and the emotions you’ve been holding back bubble up to the surface.

“don’t be upset,” he almost pleads. “let’s go back, okay?”

the night ends with megumi on the couch. neither of you bring up the argument or the fact that he had slept in your bed with you last night. you two don’t talk about the usage of pet names, either.

when you open your eyes on december 22nd, you’re surprised to see that megumi has already headed out for the day. you click your tongue in annoyance—he’s always been good at avoiding his problems when it comes to dealing with them, especially problems involving his emotions. you already know where you’re supposed to be headed, so you suppose that it’s for the best that he’d left before you.

the shopping mall is a long line of vendors and stores among other things. the snow on the ground is fresh—it must’ve snowed late last night after you’d fallen asleep. it crunches underneath your beat-up sneakers with each step you take. you’re not shocked when you end up wandering aimlessly, dipping in and out of stores with no real urgency to finish your mission.

there’s nothing to do anyway.

you’ve killed about 3 curses total and it’s really starting to look like you’ve been sent out here for busy work. you really should’ve figured that out the first day of the mission when you had to practically beg the curses to come out and fight you.

you find yourself in the front of a jewelry store, eyeing a pretty bracelet that you know would look stunning around megumi’s wrist. it’s one of those bracelets that clasp tightly. there’s a thicker band in the center with pretty carvings that seem to resemble some sort of swirly heart. it’s pretty, you have to admit.

without much thought, you buy the gift.

the seller has to clear her throat to get your attention when you don’t answer her question. “um, would you like this to be wrapped?”

you nod absentmindedly. “oh, yes. sorry. please wrap it.”

she nods in return and proceeds to wrap the bracelet in a tiny box, adorning it with a festive bow. you ask her to change it out for a different color, explaining that it isn’t a christmas gift and instead, it’s for someone’s birthday. she offers you a warm smile before switching it with a muted blue ribbon.

you return to the hotel, having to take an expensive taxi. you don’t mind—the bracelet has already made a decent-sized dent in your wallet. why not spend an extra amount on getting home? it’s not like jujutsu sorcerers are paid poorly.

reality hits you when you finally get back to the hotel room. you want to punch yourself for being so stupid. did you really just buy a birthday present for your ex-boyfriend?

you’re thankful that megumi hasn’t arrived yet. he seems to be determined to avoid you for as long as he can. you can’t blame him, either. you did give him quite a hard time yesterday.

you toss the box on to the dresser and head to the bathroom to splash some much needed cold water on to your face. maybe that’ll wake you up enough to clear your mind. you’ve acted out once during this trip already and you’re not really looking forward to any other possible outbursts.

you rinse your face and pat yourself dry with one of the face towels provided to you by the hotel staff. you hang it over the rack again and tiredly make your way to your bed. you halt your movements when you see megumi standing by the dresser, admiring your gift.

he looks up at you in surprise with the smallest grin on his face. it’s so subtle that you would’ve missed it had you not been dating him for nearly two years.

“is this for me?”

“no,” you quickly deny. his face falls and you cough out, “um, i mean.. yeah. i-i didn’t… i… happy birthday.”

he brightens, lips pulling up into a real, genuine smile. “you remembered?”

“why wouldn’t i?” you blurt gently. you bite your inner cheek to stop yourself from saying anything more.

“i dunno.” his voice is distant and low, like he’s trying to hold back his tears. “i just…i didn’t think i was deserving of a gift from you. thank you. i like it.”

you stand awkwardly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. “yeah, well…”

“can you help me put it on?” he asks, sitting at the edge of your unmade bed.

you feel your body heat up. part of you screams for you to stop. you shouldn’t do that. it’s far too intimate and you two are broken up. you’ve never been good at making decisions, though, so you sit next to him and feel the mattress dip.

he gives you a grateful look, one that you willfully ignore, and gives you his wrist. you clasp the bracelet on, fingertips just barely grazing his skin. your heart skips a beat and you have to inhale sharply before pulling away.

“thank you,” he whispers.

december 23rd is a sore reminder that life goes on. you had half-expected something to spark between you and megumi. perhaps he’d beg for you back, or maybe with less wishful thinking, he’d give you his real reason as to why he doesn’t want you anymore.

“i don’t think we need to go anymore,” megumi says when you come out of the bathroom after freshening up.

“huh? why not?”

“there’s nothing out there.” megumi’s voice is flat.

“i know, but we’ll get in trouble if we…”

“gojo probably sent us out here for fun.”

your lips part. megumi turns to you with a slight frown.

“don’t you think so too?” he asks, but you know it isn’t a question he’s looking to find an answer to. “why would the higher-ups assign a mission like this to a special grade sorcerer and a grade 1 sorcerer? if they needed that much manpower, this mission would’ve been deadlier. instead, we’re playing cleanup crew.”

“yeah, but..” you trail off, unable to think of a statement to refute his words. “if we go back now, we’ll get chewed out.”

“it’s just a scolding. you’ll be fine.” megumi stands up and stretches his arms.

you watch him cautiously as he begins to fold his clothes and throw them into his duffel bag. he doesn’t say anything else, letting the silence overtake the room.

“...are we leaving, then?” you ask meekly, not bothering to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

he pauses slightly. “do you want to stay here until christmas? this mission is stupid and you know it. there’s no point.”

why is his tone so cold all of the sudden? it’s as if you two hadn’t shared a moment last night before bed. does your gift not mean anything to him now that he’s cleared his mind with a good rest?

your eyes flicker to his wrist. the gold glimmers underneath the light and you realize that megumi doesn’t seem to hate wearing it. so why is he acting so … unpleasant?

you feel a lump in your throat. it’s embarrassing how quickly he’s able to upset you from just the tone of his voice. even his body language, usually fluid and smooth, is rigid with your presence. you want to tell him that you’ve enjoyed your time with him. you want to shake his shoulders and tell him that if you two cut your mission short, you might not get another chance to be near him again.

“do you still care about me?” you whisper instead.

he stills completely. “what?”

“this entire time,” you begin shakily, “you’ve been nice to me. you treat me like you always do. you’re always hovering over me even though you pretend you aren’t! you obviously still care, megumi.”

his adam's apple bobs as swallows. a beat of silence. then two. then three.

“i do care,” he admits sorely.

“then why did you break up with me?” you blurt. there it is, the question you’ve been meaning to ask. you both had seen it coming.

“because…” megumi winces as if he’s the one getting hurt from the ordeal. “because you deserve someone that’s normal. someone that isn’t a sorcerer. i can’t give you that life.”

you feel your chest swarm with anger. why does he always think he needs to sabotage himself to make others happy? this is something you’ve tried working with him on, but it seems like old habits are hard to kill off, just like your habit of loving him.

“why the hell would you decide that for me? when did i ever say i wanted a normal life?” you snap. your hands clench at your sides.

“it’s too early for this,” he says, his voice straining as he finally musters up the strength to look at you in your eyes.

“tell me, megumi. if that’s the real reason, then that is the most pathetic excuse for a breakup i've ever heard.” your voice cracks and you gulp down the oncoming sob that’s threatening to explode from your throat.

he inhales slowly and makes his way to you, holding you close against his chest. you should push him away, but you would rather let him hug you. you know that you can’t fight him, anyway.

“you…once said you wanted a regular relationship. when you got hurt a few weeks ago, i realized i couldn’t be that for you,” he confesses lowly. “i knew that you’d never find it in yourself to leave, so i figured i should just let you go for your sa–”

“are you kidding me?” you shout incredulously. “i said that when i was fifteen, megumi! before i even knew what being in love was like!”

he flinches against you. “but i…”

“you and your damn savior complex! i don’t need to be in a regular, normal relationship! i don’t need any of that, megumi! i’m a sorcerer, I won't ever get to be normal! in fact, it’s even better that i’m with you because you at least know what this life is like, you idiot! you’re always ruining the good things in your life because you—”

he takes his fingers to grab your chin and he pulls you in for a kiss. if the kiss is a ploy to shut you up, you hate to admit that it’s working. his tongue slips into your mouth and you melt against him. your arms loop around his neck as you desperately drag him down closer to your body. his hand grip your waist while the other clings to the small of your back.

you whimper out of instinct and he pulls away, lips bruised and breathless. it’s been so long since you’ve tasted him and you frown, tiptoeing to capture his lips again. you need to savor him, to feel him lips against yours again.

“baby, wait.” his chest heaves as he looks down at you. “don’t…don’t do this to me.”

“do what?” you ask, an edge to your voice. did he just reject you? even after all that?

“w-we gotta report back to—”

“we’re supposed to leave tomorrow,” you interrupt.

the gears shift in his head. “fine, but—”

“i’m still really fucking mad, but i just need you to kiss me right now,” you whine impatiently.

all megumi does is laugh when he swoops down to press his lips against yours.

it’s december 24th when you two find yourselves in satoru’s office. steam is practically rising from your ears as you try to compose yourself in front of your former teacher.

“... i wanted a wedding invitation.” satoru shrugs.

“you set us up!” you whine angrily. “gojo, are you serious?! isn’t this a little immature?”

megumi stays silent, averting his gaze. he suddenly finds the succulents on satoru’s desk very interesting. he’s never noticed that they’re all nearly dead! how cool.

your eyes shoot daggers at megumi's silence.

"we aren't gonna get married any time soon..." megumi mutters when he feels your pointy glare on him.

satoru raises his hands in mock surrender. “you two can’t blame me! it worked out! you two are back together now, right?”

“but did you have to make us look like fools out there?” you groan.

“you should’ve figured it out on the first day that the mission was a sham!” satoru exclaims, offense taking over his features.

“but still!” you’re borderline hysterical at this point, unable to believe that your former teacher of all people had to set up an entire fake mission so that you and your ex could talk your feelings out. “we would’ve figured ourselves out sooner or later!”

megumi nods. he feels like he should at least give you a little support even if he’s embarrassed out of his mind.

“oh really?” satoru’s voice drips with sarcasm. “you guys should be thanking me—”

“you’re so not getting an invitation to our wedding!” you grumble.

“wha—hey! i’m the one that got you two back together! besides, i’m megumi’s guardian! you can’t just not invite me.”

“watch me!”

“megumi, tell her that she can’t do that—hey! where are you guys going? invite me, you rascals—why are you guys leaving? we aren’t done discussing this! megumi, don’t you dare take her side! she isn’t even your wife yet—don’t slam my door!”

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x you #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk megumi #megumi fluff #not my best work tbh

[surshica]

OKOKOK SO BASICALLY SOME IDEADS FOR CHISHIYA X READER:

reader invites chishiya over so he can help them with a subject wtv he basically makes fun of how he gets better marks then them and reader gets annoyed and they get 🤏 close to eachother but mira walks in.

TANGLED !

request : chishiya x fem!reader

genre : disney princess fluff — imagine

warnings : swearing — ooc chishiya — older sister!mira — tutor!chishiya — highschool imagine (idk it suits it better) — a little suggestive?? i think — not proofread (i don’t proofread sry..)

A/N : HAHA we love a good left hanging kiss, i feel like yall are into that atp or smthing 😭😭 i changed it up a little of that is fine <3

— CHISHIYA x FEM!READER

ılıl﹔ ◌ 𓂂 ˳⁺ 🔮 ꯭ ⊹ ⋆ ࣪

“no [name] thats not..” chishiya face palmed pointing back to the same spot, “look closely. this is not equal to whatever the fuck you wrote down.”

“WHAT?? but literally on the calculator it equals that..” you argued back, showing him all the steps. it made him laugh dare i say. “yeah it equals that because you did it wrong.” he grinned as the palm of his hand that was on his face ended up resting on his hand.

“no THATS LITERALLY HOW YOU DO IT. SEE SEE” [name] had grabbed his face forcing him to look at what she inputs into the calculator, “YOU DO THIS THIS THIS AND BOOM.” she had once again got the wrong answer but she was too ignorant to notice that.

[name] shoved the calculator in his face to MAKE him look at the answer; a frustrated groan left chishiya’s mouth. “listen,” he placed his hand on her wrist pulling in down away from his face; his swift movement had ended up pulling her closer to him. their noses skimmed eachother.

his breathe smelled like affogato coffee, a form of blush appeared onto [name]’s cheeks and her ears, “you are doing it wrong. you are forgetting to find the square root first—you jump ahead and start doing the equations before finding the root.” his voice was low but it was loud enough to make your stomach do flips n shit.

the way he held your wrist got you kicking and screaming in your mind, it was such a soft yet rough hold. the way yours and his nose touched for a second…the things you could imagine. his strawberry scented cologne—so sweet yet it wasn’t sweet like a perfume. it was sweet yet still had that earthy tone most colognes have.

the way his lips parted eachother only to meet when he closes it, they looked so soft; you wanted a feel of them. his slow rhythmic breathing was calming, his touch/hold was calming, his cologne was calming, everything about him was calming.

“yn? are you listening?” chishiya’s voice had snapped her out of the fantasy she was having only to see chishiya side eyeing her like she was stupid. “oh yeah..sorry” [name] had apologized clearing her throat moving away from chishiya.

he just raised his eyebrow closer, scooting his chair a little closer to her; “well what was the last thing you remember?” he had stuffed his hands in his pockets but it had looked like he was fiddling with something.

“that we had to find the square root before doing the equation,” [name] had admitted expecting chishiya to be disappointed she had to come up with some lie, “i’m sorry my mind is somewhere else right now.” you dat there kinda akwardly—the lie itself wasnt bad it was the fact you were thinking about smashing your lips against his that made it akward.

chishiya simply laughed at you, “hmm alright” was all he simply said. slight confusion rose, ‘there is no way he is that dumb’ is what you thought — well really he isn’t. he knew you were eyeing him like a candy especially around the lip areas.

he just simply wanted to entertain that urge, “well your teacher didn’t show you this because class ended earlier than expected..” he leaned back in the chair, his arm sling over the back of the chair; a quick glance was all you needed. if it had been any longer that urge to smash your lips onto his wouldve been more powerful.

a cat like grin former onto chishiya’s face—even it had been a quick glance the two of you ended up making eye contact. to you; you thought it made things weird but to him he saw how your eyes got hungrier for a kiss.

he was never one to entertain someone’s urges bit right now, he wasnt just entertaining tours but bis as well. [name] had quickly looked back to the computer wirh math equations on it, doing what chishiya told her, she did. in fact get it correct.

her eyes sparkled and a smile former on her lips, “maybe you were right..” were the words that mumbled out your mouth. [name] had been so busy to finish all the questions she zoned out and had forgotten chishiya was near her.

she wanted to get it over with so he could leave, if he stayed any long the urges would’ve been too strong for her—hell she probably would’ve started daydreaming.

but to chishiya he didnt like this. you werent paying attention to him—he wanted your attention, and the fact you were more focused on that stupid screen with work problems made him pout.

he decided to scoot closer and closer to see if it would have an effect on you but nothing. upset he closed your laptop while grabbing your wrist pulling them closer to you. shocked by the sudden jolt, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“why would you close mu laptop!…” the tone was upset that slowly turned into a fluttery my words are caught in my throat tone, your noses that were skimmed before and now basically touching eachother.

“you weren’t paying enough attention.” chishiya chuckled. his cold breathing tickled your small unvisable facial hairs; a smile corked onto your lips, “not paying much attention to you? i thought you had told me everything i needed.” you commented snarky,

“i did but i forgot to tell you something else” his voice was smooth like butter—you had melted in his touch and his voice tone; that urge you had before were coming back and they were coming back stronger and stronger.

“im all ears, what do you need to tell me?” [name] quirked up an eyebrow, his breathing sent chills down her spine—giving the occasional chilly shake.

“well, i know you werent distracted by anything else before” he teased lifting up her wrist; his hand swiftly moved go her palms intertwining his fingers with hers; his cold hands were getting warmed up by her warmed ones.

“i dont know what you mean.” [name] laughed it off, “i saw you eyeing me when you put the calculator in my face.” his usual cold cat eyes turned soft for a few seconds, his hands wrapped in yours and those eyes; fuck it you were giving into those urges.

“well its kind of hard not too when you’re so close to me making my urges more and more desired.” you had snorted at him, a smile was found and it was the cutest. “would you call me a tease?” “yes i would” “good.”

chishiya placed his hand on her cheek bringing her closer for a kiss, your lips had skimmed eachother but the noise of the door opening broke the two of you apart. chishiya sat back in his normal position acting like nothing happened.

the amount of butterflies you had felt in that moment was unreal, the fluttering was loud you could hear it. the blush made your ears hot, touching felt as if they were on fire. the door opening caused you to sigh disappointed.

“the food is here, if the two of you want to eat,” mira had stated leaning against the door frame; the tension was al she needed. a small laugh escaped her tinted red lips.

“did i interrupt something?” mira stared at [name]’s bright red ears before glancing at the laid back unbothered chishiya. “nah we were just wrapping up the session.” chishiya pursed his lips in a thin line before getting up.

he looked down at the sitting [name], “i’ll text you about the next tutoring session.” he said walking passed mira, “are you not going to eat?” mira drowned watching chishiya walk to the door to leave their apartment. “nah thank you tho, i’m already full.” chishiya assured. and with that; that stupid teasing mf was gone.

mira inhaled crossing her arms, “soooo..what happened? i need to know.” a grinned smile was very evident, [name] just sat there. trying to process everything that just happened. (yk that picture of surprised pikachu? thats [name])

“he almost kissed me.”

“he what?”

“he almost kissed me BUT YOU BLOCKED IT.”

“oopsies daisy!”

tags — tell me if your user is misspelled + open

@nanamora @parkersmyth @trinmadol @noxceleste @eissaaaa @dr3amscap3 @arizzu @bwnniidump @kerenz @minyoungieee @saiewithakatana

#🎐 ։ ONESHOTS · ᘞ #★ : REQUESTS . . ! #- surshica ♥︎ #chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya fic #chishiya x fem!reader

[mushroomly]

nakime with a sister/child reader

A/n: ooh my first Nakime request! I can actually see her as an older sister…sry this is short tws: mentions of death not proofread

- Overprotective - O v e r p r o t e c t i v e - like srsly - she loves you sm - you are the only person (well, demon) besides Muzan she gives two shits about - pretends she doesn’t care abt you but secretly does - she can act distant, aloof, out of reach, but she’s always there for you - will not hesitate to biwa slayers that you struggle against into the infinity castle to inevitably die, whether by a demon, or dehydration - She will take you to festivals and disguise as a human - She is aloof yet sweet - Loves to spend time with you, listening to you talk - She isn’t particularly talkative, but listening to you she enjoys - Teaches you to play the biwa You are the only person she lets touch her biwa - She has set aside an entire section of the infinity castle for you - Not that it is of much consequence, the castle is huge - Will take you anywhere and everywhere - Overall, she is a very kind and sweet older sister

#nakime #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fluff #demon slayer headcanons #kny x reader #nakime kny #kny nakime #demon slayed nakime #kny fanfic

[eurydicees]

I don’t know anything about Sakuatsu so…what defines each of them? What makes their dynamic compelling?

Also just for fun, write a haiku about them if you’re willing?

oh man. oooohhooohhhh mannnnnn. you do not understand the box you just unlocked. i have SO MANY thoughts about them. under the cut bc i’m insane and this got too long. also i didn’t proofread because i got bored of hearing my own voice in my head, so sorry if it’s incomprehensible lmao

so, for ur first question !!

atsumu:

he’s an absolutely fascinating character to read/watch and to write, which is obviously the best kind of character for me. i’m gonna limit myself to two things that i Love about him.

the first is the sheer level of ambition. i think that the most interesting characters are the ones who knows what they want and who are going to get it if it kills them (then, as a fic writer, i like making it as hard as possible lmfao, sry tsumu). i get the impression that he knows where he wants to be in life, and he has these grand dreams and plans— some of which do not come true, and his reactions to them are really interesting. alongside this ambition is just a general intensity that i’m more than a little obsessed with. i very much see myself in that part of him, and so i obviously gotta write about it.

the second thing is that he’s just so unafraid of what the people around him think about him. he’s absolutely dedicated and loyal to the people he cares about— to his friends, his family, the teammates he’s close with— and those are the only opinions that matter. he is shown to be rather disliked in junior high, but he’s also shown to not really mind it. he’s absolutely filled to the brim with confidence, and what i really love is that, tbqh, that confidence is, like, 99% earned. there’s a really good post analyzing him and the idea of love that i can’t find rn (which sucks bc i know i rbed it), but just. like. a character who is so loyal to the people he cares about but who doesn’t care to change his personality or knock himself down a notch for the sake of other people? i have to stan.

kiyoomi:

ok so not gonna lie to you, a lot of my interpretation of him comes from my personal fanon rather than from canon sources. like, i 100% draw from the actual work, of course, but i also have a very extensive fanon that lives in my head rent free, and a lot of my writing about him includes those headcanons. look…… he just makes it so easy to project all of my issues onto him. it’s not MY fault !!

but for real lmao— i think that he’s also a really interesting character for very different reasons than atsumu. they’re pretty similar people in a lot of important ways (the pride, the ambition, the confidence), but where they really vary is in the things that they’re afraid of, and that’s what’s most interesting to me about kiyoomi. in his first appearance, he doesn’t talk about himself so much as he gets talked about by his cousin— that in of itself is really interesting, but that’s a different post— and one of the things that’s mentioned is that he needs to know everything about everyone who might pose a threat to him. idk why but this is just really interesting to me, especially as a character trait in, like, a sixteen year old volleyball player.

he’s a very anxious person, with my personal fanon being that he has ocd and/or is a major hypochondriac, and that’s something that i have a lot of fun looking at. but what’s most interesting about this is that, at the same time as he is anxious about loss in every sense of the word, he’s so assertive about his own boundaries and his own wants/needs. he isn’t willing to make compromises if it means sacrificing his feeling of security, and that’s really interesting (and god, as a fic writer, all i want to do is take it away).

re: their general dynamic:

i wrote in a fic once that “they are not men who are easy to love” and i think that part of their relationship is just personally curated to my interests. the idea of two people, neither of whom are especially loveable in the way other MCs are (ex. hinata) and neither of whom are particularly interested in changing their assholery for the sake of something as intangible as being liked, finding solace and love in each other is just *clenches fist at the sky* so good.

i think that there’s a certain level of competition that comes with their friendship/relationship that i’m really obsessed with. they’re two people who are incredibly competitive— you don’t become a professional volleyball player unless you are, tbh— but this is just forcing them to get better; they push each other further. this is something that atsumu kinda does for all of the people around him, which is another reason i’m obsessed with him specifically, but i think that it’s especially apparent with kiyoomi (and kageyama, but that’s a different post).

one of the other things i love about them is just having a friendship rooted in general banter/sarcasm, which is always fun to write. it’s also really interesting to look at their shared history in canonverse— meeting in hs and then again as adults, ~5 yrs later? there’s SO MUCH to unpack there and i absolutely love it. the idea of meeting this person you knew as a 15/16yo again as an adult, and how they’re different but the same and you never knew them well but you know you missed them and maybe it’s a sign or it isn’t but wow, they’ve grown and so have i, and maybe this is a chance to start again? god. man. deep breaths.

i’m not gonna write a haiku bc this took so much energy and i’ve been staring at this blank screen for, like, ten minutes trying to think of a start a good poem about them. but one day. one day i will get back to you with a poem.

#ask #sakuatsu #kiyoomi sakusa #atsumu miya #oh god this got so long i am so sorry i know you don't care about most of this information #this is also all just off the top of my head idk i can write better meta some other time

[butgilinsky]

What about bp!rafe hanging out with you and the pogues for the first time and him being super lovey dovey with the reader but then really harsh and aggressive with literally everyone else does that make sense? Like he’s just an asshole to the world and soft and sweet with her and only her sorry if that doesn’t make any sense. I’m super fucking dense

this isn’t proofread i’m sry

a kegger was probably a bad idea, but it was the first thing that came to your mind. you figured with alcohol in their system, your boys would play nice with each other. you figured that the alcohol would loosen them up a bit.

boy were you wrong.

rafe’s arm never left your shoulder the entire night, and while you were more than okay with that, jj’s hard glare that he was sending rafe the entire night hinted at the fact that not everyone else was okay with it.

your friends didn’t know how to act around rafe. they didn’t like him, no matter how hard they tried or how nice to you he was. he was still an asshole, and none of the boys were willing to wash that away.

“i’m gonna go get another drink. you want one?” you tilted your head back, in search of rafe’s eyes.

they were lingering on jj, his jaw clenched and grip on his cup tight before he looked down at you, softening a considerable amount.

“yeah, sure. thank you baby.” he kissed you softly and let you slide out from underneath his arm before handing you his cup.

you walked to the keg with sarah and kie, forgetting about the hostile situation you were leaving your boyfriend in.

you weren’t gone five minutes before you heard rafe and jj yelling are each other, each oof them with their chests puffed and their shoulders back. you had ditched the keg quickly, cups long forgotten.

“will you two knock it off?” you screamed over them, earning a glance from both boys.

rafe’s shoulders fell and his chest returned to its normal position the second his eyes found yours. he felt guilt creeping in his veins as he took in your aggravated state.

“your guard dog won’t leave you alone for two fucking seconds, it’s ridiculous.” jj spit, eyes and tone filled with disgust towards the boy that stood a few inches above him.

“if you wanted her so bad you shouldn’t have ditched her for kie, stupid pogue.” you opened your mouth to say something back to your boyfriend, but kie best you to the punch.

“watch yourself, cameron.”

“so nice of you to join us, kiara. how’s it feel to ditch figure eight so you can slum it with these idiots?” you sighed heavily, frustration building up quickly while you’re boyfriend barked at each of your friends.

“the cut is better than figure eight ever was, rafe. you’d know that if you weren’t so tied up in your stupid-“

“THATS ENOUGH.” you were panting, using your entire lung capacity to shut everyone up for the time being. “you’re all acting fucking ridiculous. you guys don’t have to be best friends but i find it naive to think that you can’t get along for one single night. i just want y’all to be civil for one hour, and you can’t even spare me?”

rafe let his muscles relax, eyes glued to his feet as he kicked the sand around him. jj was tugging at his hair, frustration mixing with disappointment in himself.

“sorry, y/n.” jj spoke up, eyes filled with remorse as he forced a tight smile over his lips.

“i’m sorry, baby.” rafe spoke quietly, kissing the side of your head softly.

“just promise that you’ll stop fighting? you don’t have to be best friends but can you at least be civil?” both boys nodded, followed by the other two and kiara. you smiled at the sight, leaning into rafe’s side with a bright smile.

“thank you.” you pushed yourself on your toes to catch his lips in a kiss before jj gagged slightly.

“okay i’ll stop fighting if you two stop macking in front of me.”

#obx #outer banks #drew starkey #outer banks netflix #the obx #the outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe #bp blurbs #blurb #blueberry pancakes #request

[makethanproud]

my heart is lost // e

a/n: i fucking love this song and i fucking love ethan so it only makes sense. !!! mentions of drug use !!! it’s a blackbear song what do u want from me :P

summary: ethan takes care of you while you ride out a high. kinda. idk.

-

you rested your chin in your hand and tapped your nails on the counter. you had ethan’s contact pulled up on your screen as your phone sat in front of you, daring you—taunting you, even—to call him. it had been nearly two weeks since you last saw him, since you last spoke to him, and you weren’t about to break your radio silence just because you were high. at least, that’s what you told yourself. that’s what you told yourself last time too, and the time before that. you quickly grabbed your phone in a fit of impulse and tapped his number.

“hello?” your heart was pounding out of your chest. immediate regret. you didn’t know why you were calling him. “y/n? hellooo?”

“where are you?” you smacked your hand to your forehead and squeezed your eyes shut.

“uhhh,” he forced an awkward laugh. “i’m in beverly hills right now.” you bit your thumb to stop you from speaking without thinking again. “why, where are you?”

“i’m, um, i’m in my house. do you wanna come over?”

“hold on.” you could hear him talking to someone, but you couldn’t make out exactly what he was saying.

“i’ll be over in like 15 minutes.” the tension you held in your shoulders released.

“oh. sweet. well, i’ll be here,” you said through a halfhearted laugh. it was quiet for a moment before ethan mumbled a goodbye and the line went dead. you returned your phone to its original spot in front of you and stared at the black screen.

“what the fuck,” you breathed, running your hand through your hair. you weren’t sure why you were so flustered. after all, it was you who called him. and it wasn’t like ethan didn’t care about you. he always came over when you called, even though he knew you’d ghost him when the night was over. it was practically routine at this point. god, you wondered why he stuck around.

you were removed from your thoughts when your phone chimed.

come outside, the text read. you slid off the barstool and grabbed the vial from the counter before stuffing it into the waistband of your shorts, then pulled the hem of your hoodie over the lump.

you shook out your body to relax your muscles to not seem so eager. the bright lights of ethan’s bmw blinded you when you opened the door, forcing your hands over your face to shield your eyes.

“agh, fuck,” you grumbled, stumbling down the front steps. you pulled the handle to the car open and plopped down in the passenger seat. you looked over at ethan and blinked slowly with a soft smile. “hi.”

“jesus, y/n. are you on something right now?” he huffed, resting his arm on the window. you itched the tip of your nose as a reply and he rolled his eyes. “i thought we were over that.” he shifted the car into reverse and started down the driveway.

“oh, no,” you shook a finger at him, “you are over it.” you took the cocaine out of your waistband and waved it next to his face. you started talking again before he had time to react. “where are we going, anyway?” you watched as his mouth moved and you heard that he was speaking, but you weren’t listening. you were too focused—he was just so pretty. he wasn’t even trying. he didn’t have to.

you were absolutely enchanted by him. you were fixated on his distinct features as the street lamps illuminated the high points of his face, pulling you deeper into your trance. he turned to look at you and cocked an eyebrow when he realized you were staring at him.

“can i help you?” he asked playfully. you faced forward and folded your hands in your lap. your cheeks were hot. was ethan making you nervous? you felt your eyebrows stitch together and shook your head softly, concluding it was just a side effect of the blow.

you sat up as ethan pulled into a dirt parking lot on the side of the road. he came to a quick stop and put the car in park. “we’re here.” he got out and jogged to your side, opened the door, and held out his hand. you looked at his open hand then back up at his eyes. he wiggled his eyebrows and stifled a laugh, bravely reaching for you since you wouldn’t reach for him.

he led you over to a cluster of boulders near the edge of a cliff and climbed to the top of the biggest one. he grabbed your hand and pulled you up to sit with him.

you laid your back against ethan’s chest as you both watched the city lights of los angeles flicker beyond the edge of the overlook. gingerly placing your small hand on ethan’s much larger one, you sighed contently. you felt him rest his chin on your shoulder and lean his head into yours, closing the space between the two of you. your cheeks were burning now, only this time you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t the cocaine.

your moment was cut short by the repetitive vibration of ethan’s phone. he pulled it out of his pocket carefully, trying his best to not move too suddenly. he silenced the persistent buzzing and tossed it beside you. the phone lit up once more before finally fading to black for good.

“who was that?” you questioned innocently.

“just some girl.”

“well why didn’t you answer?”

“she’s not important.” he brushed it off as if it were nothing. you knew he was lying, although you couldn’t place exactly why.

-

“throw it.” he gestured towards the cliff. your eyes nearly popped out of your skull.

“throw it?” you wailed. “ethan that’s almost two hundred fucking dollars!”

he shrugged. “throw it!” his voice echoed through the hills. he cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled again. “throoooow it!” he flashed you a huge grin as you stared at the vial you held so tightly in your hand. you shifted your feet anxiously and raised your arm over your head, before releasing the vial into the night below. you froze when you realized what you just did. you turned, wide eyed, to find ethan hollering and clapping.

“i can’t believe you just did that,” he laughs, doubled over to catch his breath. when he steadied his breathing, he stood up and rested his hands on his waist. “alright let’s go.” you opened your mouth to protest, but decided to stay quiet and complied anyway. he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you started towards the car.

-

the ride back to ethan’s house was much quieter than the ride from yours. it was a comfortable silence, though. you didn’t feel like you had to speak, you felt safe in the comfort of his presence. ethan kept his hand entwined with yours as he drove, eyes concentrated on the road in front of him. before long, you were at his house and he was dragging you inside.

he pressed a finger to his lips as the door creaked open. “my brother is probably sleeping,” he whispered. you could feel his hot breath on the back of your neck, making the hair on your arms stand up. you nodded and pursued forward into the darkness, hands stretched out in front of you to guide you. ethan’s body was pressed against yours, hands delicately placed on your hips so that he wouldn’t lose you.

“it’s this door on the right,” he spoke softly. you blindly turned into the room and stretched forward for the bed. you felt the comforter on your fingertips and climbed in, waiting for ethan to situate beside you. to your surprise, he announced that he would be sleeping on the couch.

“i want you to sleep here,” you whispered. “with me.” he opened up the covers and got in, body instantly fitting into yours. you couldn’t help but feel you were meant for each other. he wrapped his arms around your torso and buried his face in your neck. your breaths became rhythmic with his, and you became sleepy within minutes. it was the first time in weeks you were able to sleep without some kind of drug in your system. ethan, you feared, was about to become your brand new addiction.

-

you rubbed your eyes and rolled off the bed. it was morning. ethan was still snoring softly on his side, reaching out when he felt that you were no longer in his arms. he swatted the empty space beside him, settling for a pillow to pull into his chest. you shuffled out of the room and down the hall towards the kitchen in search of some food.

“who are you?” you jumped at the sudden voice behind you. there stood a boy who oddly looked just like ethan, although he was a little taller and much broader. you quickly concluded that he was probably his brother, who wanted to know why a random girl was rummaging through his cabinets.

“i’m uh, y/n. ethan’s friend. hi.” you stuck your hand out to be polite. the stranger shook it seemingly unwillingly.

“you’re y/n? you’re her?” you pursed your lips and nodded.

“whatever that means. i’m ‘her,’ i guess,” you laughed lightly. he didn’t. the boy continued to study you through cold eyes before turning around and grabbing two plates from the cabinet.

“oh i’m not—”

“it’s not for you,” he said flatly. you retreated to a chair at the island and didn’t speak again. you sat in awkward silence for what seemed like forever before he left and ethan emerged in the doorway.

his hair was sticking out in every direction and his shirt was disheveled. somehow, he looked just as pretty as he did the night before. his pale pink lips parted as he gave you a lazy smile, leaning on the doorframe. you couldn’t take your eyes off him. you had sobered up in your sleep, yet your feelings for ethan remained. you finally accepted your fate:

you were fucked.

a/n: i didn’t proofread this at all so sry if it isn’t coherent lmao. this took four days to write because i couldn’t stay motivated. hope it’s not complete trash but idc if it is B)

[4jimin]

1 and 23 for vmin 💕

Send me a pairing + a number: “what are you doing at my doorstep at 3 in the morning…” and “i don’t want to break up”

college au | i didn’t proofread this so im sry if it sucks :/

Jimin first thinks he is hallucinating when he hears Taehyung’s voice shouting his name from afar. People do say these things tend to happen when you’re in love – not that this was useful as a proof base for their statement, but Jimin did have felt Taehyung’s smell when the boy was nowhere near more times than he’d like to admit. Besides, it’s past two in the morning and even though Taehyung isn’t known for his best judgment in logical decisions, walking till Jimin’s house in the middle of the night to yell his name out there in the street is a bit too much even for him. So Jimin just pulls his blanket higher to his neck, embarrassed for having heard Taehyung’s voice out of nowhere. This is a whole other level of lame and cheesy – further if you consider they are dating for three months only.But, at the same time his eyelids fall closed, the voice surges again. Louder and clearer.Okay, maybe he isn’t hallucinating. Jimin walks out of his bedroom in direction to the living room with his already racing heart making his palms sweat and his stomach twist. Pulling the curtains away from the front window he confirms he isn’t crazy. Kim Taehyung, his actual boyfriend, is really, for real, in fact, on his doorstep at two – three? – in the fucking morning. “Kim Taehyung,” he calls in a loud tone while opening his door, half frowning and half fighting a completely random laugh trying to overpower him. “What the hell?” Although his lips are already curving in the corner, the laugher noticeable on his voice.His boyfriend stares at him for a second before losing balance and stepping everywhere trying to regain it. Oh. Of course he is drunk. If not, why would he be there this late? Jimin don’t remember moving from his place, but somehow he is in front of Taehyung, hands holding his waist before the boy tripped on his on own feet and sinked his nose on the ground. “What are you doing?” Jimin finally allows himself to laugh, sliding his arms to Taehyung’s back and burying his face on his neck, longing for his touch even though they had seen each other by the morning. “Why are you drunk at my door on a tuesday night?” his tone has somehow dropped, Taehyung’s smell being more than enough to create a haze in his mind. The younger wraps his arms around the smaller, having missed his boyfriend as well – but there is a hint of sulky-taehyung-mode on his voice. “M’ not.” He dizzily steps back and pulls Jimin with him. “Woah!” he starts laughing, “You’re really not… strong, if you’re trying to… help me to keep standing.” Taehyung giggles, his words are sloopy and they’re rolling out of his tongue with relative difficulty. Jimin sighs, worry making its way to his chest. “Seriously, how much have you drank?”“Relaaax, bro…” Bro? “Juuuust a little bit…” Taehyung laughs again.Jimin drags him into the living room and closes the door, blocking the cold wind from making its way inside the house. “Ah, warm…” Jimin turns just in time to see Taehyung snuggling himself up on the couch. He is holding a cushion close to his chest, eyes closed and that characteristic smile of him sprawled on his lips. Jimin welcomes the warmth on his chest caused by the sight before him. He walks till the sofa and kneels on the ground in front of the drunk boy.“Seriously, what are you doing here?” Jimin asks in a soft voice, but Taehyung pouts anyway.He shoots his eyes open with a frown. “Can’t I?!”“Come here?” Jimin scoots closer to tangle his fingers on his hair, their faces so close he can smell the alcohol on his lips and the perfume Jimin bought him on his skin. “Of course you can come here, but… you know… it’s 3 in the morning.”“So?!” Taehyung scowl deepens.“So…” Jimin continues, “You only do this kind of thing when you’re upset. It’s not that I’m not happy you’re here, I’m just worried.”Taehyung crosses his arms. “m’ not upset.”“Really? Cause you seem very upset to me.”“I’m not!”“Okay.”There’s a faint silence in the living room before Jimin rests his chin on the border of the couch and kisses Tarhyung’s nose.“So if you’re not upset why did you get this drunk on a tuesday night? We have classes tomorrow, y'know.”Taehyung fidgets the hem of his tshirt. “Just felt like it…”“Mhm-uhm.” Jimin knows he is lying, but agrees with a hum on the back of his throat nonetheless and gets up. “No, where are you going?!” Taehyung grabs his wrist with wide eyes. “Why are you going away?!”Jimin chuckles. “I’m not, I’m just gonna get some clean clothes for you to take a shower.” “No, don’t leave me.” The boy whines and Jimin thinks is very funny until he sees tears sparkling on the younger’s eyes. His chest tightens.“Hey, oh god. Hey, what’s up?!” he kneels down again. “Taehyung, why are you crying?” That’s all it gets for him to actually break into tears, his shoulders shaking and his lips tightly pressed together along with furrowed brows. “Taehyungie, hey baby…” Jimin cups his face so he is looking at him. “What happened?” Taehyung swallow a few sobs before he finds his voice again. “Y-you want t-to leave me, b-but I don’t want to leave you…” “What?!” Jimin almost laughs. “Baby, I was just going to–““It’s not that!” he complains – an o shape left on his lips – and sits straight to properly talk. “I heard you and Jin-hyung! You kept saying how it was too soon a-and how you didn’t know how I was g-going to react! I heard it!” Jimin watches him talk without a reaction, sitting on his ankles completely clueless of what to do, shock growing on his gut. “Y-you said ‘oh, but he can be so annoying sometimes, I don’t know if I can do this!'” Taehyung interprets Jimin’s voice with a frown and Jimin’s heart breaks, because the boy can’t seem to stop crying. “I-I drank b-because I was hurt!” he skrinks on his seat, knees broght up to his chest so he can sink his face on the space left in between. “I don’t want to break up…” When things finally click inside Jimin’s mind, he finds himself holding an incredulous laugh threatning to crawl out of his throat. He don’t seem to have a high tolerance for it, however, because on the next second he is laying on the ground, his loud cackle filling every silent inch of the room. He can’t believe it.“Yah!” he hears his boyfriend exclaiming, “Stop laughing!”Jimin props himself up in one hand, the other resting on his already-aching-belly as he tries to recover. Taehyung is looking at him with tears accumulating on his eyes and that’s what impells Jimin to climb the couch onto his lap and sweetly kiss him. Taehyung gasps, and Jimin is still laughing, but he doesn’t stop pecking the younger’s lips for a second, feeling so fucking intoxicated with love he can’t quite believe it. Taehyung turns his face to the side and Jimin takes the opportunity to bury his nose on his neck. “You dumbass…” he lets out giggling, “I don’t want to break up either.” Taehyung’s hands freeze on his waist. “No?”Jimin pulls back to look at him. “Of course not! God…” he shakes his head, “You’re unbelievable…”“W-why?” he closes his arms around Jimin’s back, body relaxing.“Because,” Jimin ponctuates, “I wasn’t talking with Jin-hyung that I wanted to break up with you! I was…” a blush spreads over his cheeks suddenly, “wondering if I should ask you to move over or not.” Taehyung is rendered speechless for a moment too long. When the silence is menacing to last enough to be awkward, Taehyung suddenly jumps on his seat, watery eyes shining with more than just tears now. “What?!” he screams, a wide smile exposing all of his teeth. “Of course you should!” “Oh, yeah?” Jimin murmurs then, a playful smile unable to be repressed on his face. He leans closer. “So…” he kisses the corner of Taehyung’s lips. “Kim Taehyung,” he moves for his soft cheek, “do you” and chin, “want to” and eyes, “move in” and nose “with me?”When Taehyung smile is too big to fit on his mouth, Jimin kisses him on the lips. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes. A thousand times yes.”

#vmin #vmin fic #vmin fanfic #bts #bts fic #bts fanfic #idk how else to tag this akdjfk #jimin #taehyung