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luv4fushi · 1 year

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HEYYY🦅

I really likes your megumi drabble. HE SO CUTE😭😭 i kinda wish you write more megumi 🩷

megumi fluff (?) and angst at your service! sorry it took FOREVER i had 478274 exams these past few weeks ughhh sorry & ily thx for the req ~~~

he likes me, he likes me not

jjk fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

all megumi fushiguro does is apologize when he rejects you. everything changes because of your confession.

content: angst, fluff if you squint, all characters aged up to 17-18!!!, misunderstandings, confessions, eventual relationship!, megumi is so bad at feelings, ooc megumi a little sorry, takes place at jujutsu tech high school and shibuya has NEVER happened so life is good, yuji and nobara are your besties

wc: 5.1k

click on my masterlist for more!

“i like you.”

for a moment, the world stills. everything comes to a halt.

megumi is sitting across from you at your favorite cafe, just down the street from tokyo jujutsu high, the school you’ve been attending for nearly two years now.

in that short amount of time, you’ve grown into a person you think the past you would’ve liked. you’re taller now, more fit and lean. you’ve got bounds of experience from your missions piled on your shoulders, the unwavering burden of being a jujutsu sorcerer making itself at home.

you’ve grown in other ways, too. you’re stronger now, you’ve got a good hold on your emotions. you haven’t seen your parents in months, but the sting doesn’t hurt anymore. you’re wiser. older. you’ve got a handle on your feelings.

then there’s megumi fushiguro.

oh, how enamored you’d been.

he’d spared no glance when he first met you. you had trudged into the classroom, eyes darting at the unfamiliar faces. gojo satoru, the undeniably handsome teacher of yours, introduced you brightly albeit the low energy of the room.

you had weaved your way into the jujutsu world, just as you had been able to slither your way into the lives of your newfound friends.

but megumi, oh, megumi fushiguro.

it had taken you laborious months to befriend the raven haired boy. his uninviting attitude hindered your relationship with him for some time, and you had half-heartedly decided to pursue something else, but your near death experience during a particularly difficult mission with him had sent him reeling. he had held onto you the entire time you cried for your mother.

you don’t talk about that day. he doesn’t mention it, either.

“what?” his eyes, dark blue, blink in surprise. his lips are parted slightly. “what did you say?”

your throat constricts. then, the words flow: “i’m in love with you.”

love. it’s too strong of a word. you’re not even quite sure what it means, or if what you feel is actually love.

the cafe begins to bustle with life again. the barista from behind the counter steams some milk—almond—and she glances up at a customer approaching. the music from the overhead speakers filters it’s way softly into your ears. it’s a cheesy love song, and you can’t help but feel like it isn’t the right time for that.

“are you serious?” he says, almost spitting out his drink.

“i mean,” you shrug, “yeah? i wouldn’t bring you all the way out here to fuck with you.”

he blinks again. his lashes flutter perfectly. it’s annoying how perfect he is. there’s a slight hue of pink to his cheeks, but not enough to confirm anything—just speculation.

“i’m sorry,” he begins, breathing it out all in one go. “i’m really sorry.”

if you’re being honest with yourself, you’d seen it coming from a mile away; megumi fushiguro is different. he’s got the composure of a brick wall. the perpetual frown on his face never, ever leaves, not even when he’s with you. he doesn’t crack, doesn’t shake. his soul is hardened from things that he’ll never speak of with you.

“it’s okay,” you say, but it’s not.

you’ve changed—grown into a person you’re proud of, but you’re still stuck sometimes. you’re still a pushover. still just a small shrimp in the vast ocean. still apologizing for your existence.

“i’m sorry,” megumi repeats.

you know he’s apologetic, that he really means it, just from the way his brows furrow slightly. you know him too well for your own good. you don’t think he can say the same about you.

“it’s fine.” your voice breaks. you duck your head in embarrassment. rejection has never hurt you this badly. “you don’t have to apologize for not liking me back. it’s not your fault.”

you wonder why you’re comforting him when he’s the one who has ripped your heart out completely.

“i’m gonna head back,” he mumbles out, hesitating to reach out and dab away your tears with the napkin he’s been wringing around his thin fingers. “you… should come, too.”

you shake your head. “i think i’m gonna finish my coffee.”

he offers a smile. “you can finish mine as well, if you’d like.”

“nah,” you say, scrunching your nose through watery eyes, “black coffee isn’t really my thing.”

“yeah.” his laugh is soft, almost forced, but you can tell it’s genuine. “i know.”

oh, you think. it really hurts.

he knows.

something inside you snaps. your lungs feel itchy. your ribs squeeze. you think that it would’ve been easier to never say anything at all.

megumi leaves the store. the jingle of the bell above the frame rings through the air. you’re left with your cold cup of coffee and megumi’s cup across from you.

the barista gives you a look of pity. you chug down your drink and chug his, too.

it’s bitter.

-☆

megumi arrives to his dorm exactly five minutes after four pm. he slips off his sweater and changes into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. his mind is blank, except for the image of your teary eyes.

he swallows nervously. maybe he’ll sleep it off.

“yo, megumi.” yuji slams himself against the door impatiently. “how’d it go?”

megumi sighs, the irritation swiftly making its way into his fatigued body. he opens the door and yuji tumbles in without an invitation.

“what are you talking about?” megumi mutters with another sigh.

“the confession,” yuji says matter-of-factly.

megumi stares. “you knew?”

yuji’s smile slowly removes itself from his lips. “…yeah? it was pretty obvious.”

“what was obvious?”

“that she likes you…?” yuji tilts his head. “and you like her back, right? so i figured you guys would be all cuddled up in here.”

megumi doesn’t say anything. the gears in yuji’s head begin to turn as he looks around the room, noticing the comfy attire megumi has on.

“you said that you liked her back… right?” he raises an eyebrow. “because it’s not a secret that you do.”

“i left.”

“you left her there?!”

“i didn’t know what else to do.”

“so you said ‘yes, i’d like to be your boyfriend’ and then dipped out on her?”

“i didn’t say yes.”

yuji pauses. he looks at megumi, then at the made bed, then back at megumi.

“for fuck’s sake,” he groans, running his hands through his pink hair. “i’m gonna go.”

megumi stands there, appalled. the door is shut harshly and the hinges squeak. he’ll have to scold yuji about that later. for now, he wants to take a nap.

maybe he’ll feel better about everything when he wakes up.

-☆

on the other side of the building reserved for dorms, yuji crosses his way into the girls’ section. it still feels wrong no matter how many times he’s made this trip before.

he meets you on the way there. you’re dragging your feet, headphones strapped on your head, and lips quivering.

“hey,” he calls out, tapping your shoulder. “you okay?”

he waits until you hang the silver headphones on your neck. they’re megumi’s, he realizes as he sees the fading stickers on the metal plate.

“hm?”

“you okay?” he asks again. his eyes scan you for any signs of distress, and he can practically see it radiating off of you.

“yeah,” you hum, “i’m cool.”

“want me to grab nobara?” he suggests with a grin.

“sure,” you say.

the sun feels hot on your back. you hate the way the school is so widespread for having such a small population.

“i can grab some ice cream,” yuji rambles. “and i’ll get us a notebook so we can write shitty things about megumi.”

you pat him on his back, but his sturdy body almost sends you flying backwards. he catches your wrist just before you fall, and he’s laughing at your expression with glee.

“you’re so funny,” he says through his fit of laughter. “you’ve gotten scrawnier. you needa eat more! i’ll get us snacks, too.”

you pout. “shut up, yuji. not everyone can be as buff as you and todo.”

“oh, todo is a whole different story.”

“tell me about it,” you say, playfully rolling your eyes. “i’ve seen him beat you up into a pulp.”

“hey! in my defense,” yuji says, his hands coming up to the sides of his ears, “i couldn’t do much against him!”

you’re nearing nobara’s dorm, which is right across from your own. you like how homey hers is compared to yours. she’s got a knack for interior design, or so she claims.

she swings the door open the moment you reach the inside of the building. you’re halfway down the hall when she sticks her head out from the frame of her room. her black roots are showing more than usual.

“how was it?” she asks once you’re close enough so that she can whisper.

you want to tell her that there’s no point in keeping it a secret. you had told yuji about your feelings far before you even mentioned to her, mainly because yuji had been your first friend at jujutsu high. megumi isn’t here, either, so there’s no reason to whisper when everyone knows.

“bad,” is all you reply with.

her eyes soften a considerable amount, an expression you’ve never seen on her face before. she takes a small breath and pulls you into her room by your arm.

you’re met with her fragrances, vanilla and strawberry—a nobara kugisaki signature scent. she had begged gojo to buy her shelves to place her k-pop albums on and sure enough, the white furniture stands proud at the far corner of the room. there are fake vines hanging from her ceiling right above her desk, where she has an organizer messily places over a few books.

“you wanna dye your hair?” she jokes, looking back at you. “my roots are coming in so we might as well dye yours while we touch up mine.”

“is orange all you have?” yuji’s nose twitches. “i don’t think she’d look good in orange.”

“gee, thanks,” you sarcastically respond.

“sorry.”

nobara clicks her tongue. “wanna unpack?”

“kinda,” you say, your body going limp once you’re at the foot of her bed. you sprawl yourself on the silky sheets and stare up at the ceiling.

“get out, yuji,” nobara demands. she doesn’t even acknowledge his downturned lips.

“i know everything already!” he whines. he shuts the door behind him with much more care than he had with megumi’s.

“still!” she insists. “i wanna have a girls’ talk.”

“i’m one of the girls.” he crosses his arms.

nobara’s shoulders sag. “fine, but you need to go buy ice cream.”

“was planning on that already,” yuji replies. he taps quickly at his phone, presumably asking gojo for his credit card.

when yuji leaves the room, he promises that he’ll get your favorite flavor. once nobara senses that his presence is completely gone, she turns to look at you.

“i’m sorry for making you confess,” she whispers. her tone is comforting, genuine, soft. she takes you into her arms and squeezes your shoulders. “i really thought he liked you back.”

“it’s not your fault,” you reply earnestly. “i chose to do it out of my own selfish feelings.”

“you can cry,” she says, patting your head. at times like this, nobara seems years wiser than you are. her touch is warm.

you bite your lower lip. “don’t wanna. i think i’ll be fine.”

“okay,” she says, and you feel her chest vibrate with the word. “you’re allowed to cry, though. megumi would’ve been a shitty boyfriend, anyway.”

all you can do is let out a watery laugh. you don’t tell her that he would’ve been an amazing lover. he would’ve taken you out on dates at your favorite places because he’s observant like that. he would’ve known your favorite foods, though he knows them even as friends. he would’ve kissed you tenderly because that’s the type of boy he is. he’s the type to love carefully, like he’s afraid he’ll lose someone forever if he doesn’t.

“i’m up for dyeing your hair,” nobara pipes up after the silence that penetrates the room. “yuji’s right, though… i don’t think orange would suit you… ha.”

you giggle. “let’s just touch up yours, yeah?”

yuji’s footsteps can be heard from outside the door when you’re a third of the way done with nobara’s roots. she complains about how long he’d taken, but there’s no real malice in her voice. he explains that he had ran into trouble obtaining gojo’s card (“i had to beg him for it!”).

the ice cream is all melted. it’s gooey and delicious and makes you smile. as you look around your friends, your crinkled eyes say more words than you ever could.

“you’re welcome,” yuji says into your ear. “you don’t have to thank us for any of this.”

-☆

the next morning comes by quicker than you want it to. you mentally prepare yourself for seeing megumi in class at eight in the morning. you haven’t made a mistake as bad as confessing your dying, unrequited love on a wednesday afternoon quite like this before.

nobara had suggested walking with you the night before, but you’d sternly told her that you could handle it. looking back, maybe you should’ve agreed with her offer.

megumi isn’t in class when you come in. he’s usually there at least five minutes before gojo starts teaching. something inside you tells you it’s because of yesterday—as much as you hate to admit it.

he walks in through the sliding doors a few minutes late, but gojo pays him no attention. megumi has privileges like that—at least, with gojo. he’s practically your teacher’s son, and though you’ve never heard of the full story, you’re well aware of gojo’s slight favoritism.

the class is short. all jujutsu sorcery classes are. they mainly consist of typical real school lessons, only because under the law, jujutsu tech is still a high school. the other, much bigger portion of class with gojo is focused on maintaining cursed energy and providing yourself with the best possible victory in battle.

when it’s over, you don’t know if you should be relieved or upset. you won’t be able to see megumi after this, assuming that he’ll avoid you for a good month or two. however, you think you’d rather die than attempt to make conversation with him.

“don’t do anything stupid,” gojo warns, signaling the end of class.

you hear yuji snicker quietly and say, “yeah, nobara.”

the bickering brings a smile to your lips. from the corner of your eye, megumi shifts in his seat.

you decide that it’s best to let the feelings marinate, as stupid as it sounds. it’s an infinitely better choice than moping around and begging megumi for a chance. you may be soft, but you’ve got pride.

“see you guys,” you announce, more to yourself than to anyone.

“alright,” yuji calls after you, “see you later.”

you can’t help but feel a little disappointed with the lack of clinging when it comes to you. your absence doesn’t seem to cause a ruckus like it does for most people. you wonder if it had been yuji retiring early; would everyone else ask him to stay a minute longer?

that’s how life is for a while.

you attend class, spar a little, and sleep. some days you go out into the city with nobara. you avoid the cafe, even though it’s your favorite. perhaps it’s because you’re still embarrassed by megumi’s rejection. on other, slower days, gojo takes you all on outings because he’s basically everyone’s replacement father.

it’s still as tense as ever between you and megumi.

the boy doesn’t make any effort to reach out. you don’t blame him, though you should. he steals small glances at you, particularly when you’re smiling and forget to cover your teeth with your hands. that’s all he takes from you, and he can’t be the only guilty one, because that’s all you give.

on this day, gojo takes you all out to the fair. it’s annual, taking place in the beginning of summer, and it’s a great way to practice forming barriers and such. the fairs always bring out a few nasty curses that need to be exorcised—the four of you are already used to being dragged out here for that sole purpose.

as if gojo knows, he sends you out in pairs. of course, you’re paired with megumi fushiguro. at first, you open your mouth to reject gojo’s demand, but you notice the way megumi doesn’t seem to care and your resolve hardens.

“it’s really awkward around you guys.” gojo pretends to act busy, flicking something from his nails. he’s got his sunglasses on and the ladies around him fawn.

“huh?” you and megumi look at him with accusing glares.

“is something going on between the two of you?”

“no,” you say almost entirely too quickly.

“right,” he drawls, a smirk forming on his face. “anyway, good luck out there. get rid of the little ones and then—i don’t know/-meet up with yuji and nobara if there are gross ones that’ll kill you.”

megumi nods. “okay.”

“this was what i was talking about,” gojo mutters as he walks off. “it’s soooo awkward…”

megumi gives you an apologetic look. “for the record, i don’t think it’s awkward.”

“it’s fine,” you say. you find that you’ve been pardoning him quite a lot. “you don’t have to lie.”

his face flushes. “i’m not.”

“i confessed to you and you don’t like me back, so there’s really no need to tiptoe around it anymore,” you rush out. “just treat me like normal. i don’t really care.”

he looks hurt, and you want to laugh.

you discover that, in those days of being alone, you’d rather megumi treat you like a friend again than be completely ignored. at least then, you’d have a part of him. at least then, he’s not slipping through the cracks of your heart, becoming a distant memory.

you want him to be anything but a memory.

“you want me to treat you like normal…?” he repeats your words. he paces himself just a few steps behind you when you begin to walk away from the conversation. “what does that mean?”

“i think you know what being friends is like,” you attempt to joke, but it comes out harsher than intended.

the fair is getting more crowded by the second. the shopkeepers are yelling out cheap deals and there are children that snake in and out of the lines of people. paper lanterns are hung at the front of tents to attract foreigners—it seems to be working because there are more people surrounding shops with lanterns than without.

megumi takes a breath. “how could i do that?”

your steps falter. “what do you mean?”

“how can i go on to treat you like normal,” he says softly, “when i know you’re in love with me?”

you bite the inside of your cheek and taste blood. “i don’t know. you’ve done it before without knowing my feelings. you can do it all over again, right?”

you look over your shoulder to see his lips part. he’s given up on the cool-guy persona. his vulnerability begins to show through the dents in his personality.

“you’re saying that you’ve liked me for that long?”

“yeah,” you admit. something about this is more freeing than you could’ve imagine. “i think i always have.”

a man shoves himself into you. he’s older with a beer belly and a scruffy beard attached to his face. he barks at you to move out of the way as he drags his young daughter through the sea of people. megumi’s warm hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you aside and closer to his toned chest.

you do your best to ignore your beating heart.

“i’m not,” megumi starts shakily, “lovable. i don’t know why you like me.”

your body goes cold. it's even worse than when he'd rejected you.

“curse,” you say, detaching his hand from your body. “i feel it around the back alley.”

the night ends. nothing is solved. you go to bed and curl into yourself.

-☆

loving megumi is weird. there’s an odd sense of comfort to it, like you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he makes you feel safe even though he's gruff and a little mean about it. maybe that's just part of his charm, though, because it makes you love him even more.

he seems to have taken your words seriously; he starts to treat you like normal again. he doesn't avoid you anymore, and the obvious tension surrounding you two has disappeared for now. he lets you take a few of his sweaters when you forget to do your laundry and he buys you your favorite snacks sometimes.

it gets to be too much. you almost wish he'd go back to ignoring you. the grass is always greener on the other side.

summer goes by slowly. it's the prime time for bad feelings to manifest into curses. you push away your lingering feelings, convincing yourself that you've gotten over it. it's been more than enough time now, coming up on two months since you've confessed. you don't want your resentment, if you can call it that, to form any bad curses—you'd hate for them to be attached to megumi. that'd be a burden too hard to carry.

a few missions involve partnering up with megumi. gojo thinks you two work well together; there's a sort of synergy that you have with each other that is hard to come by sorcerers nowadays. you don't mind the compliments, or at least you pretend you don't.

the missions aren't difficult, but maybe that's because you've grown stronger. megumi has, too.

summer passes. it still hurts.

"you're confusing me," you whisper.

you and megumi are shopping for a surprise birthday party that gojo is forcing you guys to throw for nanami kento, a good coworker of his. you've met him more than once, and you're not really sure if he'd appreciate such a last minute party. regardless, you and megumi are tasked with finding enough balloons to fill the poor man's office.

megumi doesn't allow you to hold any of the bags. he lies and tells you that it's out of habit—nobara makes him carry her shopping bags every time they go out—but you know he's doing it just because he wants to. you're perfectly strong enough to carry a few paper bags, and he doesn't carry nobara's bags like he claims he does. megumi doesn't even go shopping with her unless yuji's there and even then, yuji holds the bags.

"sorry?"

"why are you doing this?" you refuse to look at him.

"doing what?"

"this," you say, gesturing at the two of you. "why do you act like we're close enough to do this?"

you cringe at yourself, aware of how hypocritical you're being. you had wanted this, wanted him to go back to being a friend, to treat you like he had before you went and ruined everything. why are you angry? why do your eyes well up with tears as he steps closer to you?

"we aren't close?" he asks. his arms fall to his side.

passerbys give you curious glances. he takes off his sweater, the one he always wears depsite it being humid out, and wraps it around you. the paper bags filled with confetti and paper plates are set down by your feet. he pulls the hood over your head to hide your wet eyes.

"we are," you mumble out sorely, "but not like this."

"i'm sorry," he says, and you're brought all the way back to the day you had told him about just how much you liked him.

"'s not your fault." you sound like you're trying to convince yourself and not him. "i'm being an asshole. you can forget about this."

you don't want him to feel guilty. he can't help how he feels, after all. you don't want him forcing himself to love you.

"what you said that day," he coughs out. the bags crinkle as he lifts them from the pavement. he continues, "what did you mean by 'always'?"

you squeeze your eyes shut and he pauses next to you. you can feel his soft gaze on you and you're glad you can hide behind his sweater, the cloth draping over you like an oversized blanket.

"i don't know..." you tilt your head up to look at him. he looks like the boy you think you'll always love. "i think i was doomed from the start."

"doomed?" he says, a little amused. "loving me is dooming? how sweet of you."

you need to remind yourself that he's not playing with your heart; this is how he copes—and how you cope, too. he must know you better than you had thought.

you nearly scoff. "it's because you're you. you're so good at being you that it hurts."

megumi slows. you hadn’t even noticed that he'd been guiding you down the sidewalk the entire time until now.

"i think it applies to me, too," he say quietly.

"what?"

"'always' applies to me, too." the clarification does nothing to settle your nerves.

"i don't understand," you blurt.

he gives you a look, as if to say, "really?", but he keeps talking, "i think i'm used to this feeling because it's always been there."

"what feeling?"

he shrugs. "you pissed me off when i first met you. you're really stupid, you know?"

your face morphs into an irritated expression. "thanks. you're pretty great yourself."

he laughs and it sounds like music to your ears. "i wasn't finished, dummy."

"sorry."

"you're pretty... a lot more than you think you are," he admits shyly, "and i guess that annoyed me because i kept feeling all weird around you. i got used to it, i think—that weird feeling. but it's always been here. it never left."

you stumble, tripping over your feet at megumi's statment. you don't want to interpret it the wrong way, but with how he's looking at you, you can't help but maybe think that he likes you too.

"this isn't how i wanted to tell you, but," he breathes in sharply, "i don't like it when you cry."

it's awkward. perhaps a little funny, if you really look at it, but it's megumi and you can't hate him. you'll never find it in yourself to truly hate him.

nanami's surprise birthday party isn't much of a surprise. though gojo nor nanami say it, you all know yuji is a favorite of theirs, and no one is surprised when yuji says that he had accidentally revealed the party a few hours prior.

gojo has fun. even shoko, who never shows up to any of these events because of her busy schedule as a doctor, seems to enjoy herself. nanami pretends like he's not entertained, but he has on a fond smile that looks weirdly similar to the way megumi smiles. you're all old enough to party now, as gojo puts it, so it's a little less like a classroom celebration and more like a familial one.

it's the third of july, nearly two months and a half after your confession, when megumi hints that he feels the same way about you.

you don't know what to make of it.

-☆

"i like you."

you're in the middle of getting ready to go out with nobara and her favorite upperclassman, maki, when megumi tells you he likes you back. your eyes widen and the mascara you've just finished putting on smears on your lid.

megumi hands you a makeup wipe as if he's done it a million times before. (he hasn't, but he just knows.)

"w-what?" you stutter out, your breath catching in your throat.

"it took me a while to figure that out," he says.

he's flat on your bed, covering his face with his arm. his t-shirt rises with each of his nervous movements. according to the rules set by gojo, he shouldn't even be here in your dorm. he shouldn't be on your bed and listening to your playlist through your shitty speaker gifted to you by yuji.

"are you joking around?"

"what?" he sits up and turns to you, frowning. "why would you think that?"

"is this you pitying me?"

"i just," he sighs, frustrated, "i needed to tell you before i chickened out. i meant what i said the other day, you know?"

"about you getting 'used to' the strange feeling?"

he nods and then slouches back against your pillows. if it had been any other day, you would've felt shy about sleeping in his scent.

"yeah," he says, running his slender fingers through his jet black hair. "i really did mean it. i think i just—i don't know—pushed you away because i was afraid."

you've given up on applying your makeup by now. your hands are shaking too much, anyway.

"i'm scared sometimes, too," you reply, catching his eyes in the reflection of your vanity mirror.

you see the side of his lips turn upwards. he looks as handsome as ever. he's gotten older since the first time you met him, and it hits you harder now that he's on your bed, his features sharp and his body lanky and tall. there's a sort of intimacy that you sense between the two of you.

"i'm not afraid anymore." his legs swing over the bedframe and he easily reaches the ground even though your bed is raised. "i'll be brave for the both of us."

oh.

"what do you think?" he tilts his head.

you stay home that night.

-☆

"so are you guys dating now?" yuji exclaims.

you both freeze.

"fuck off," megumi says instead of answering the question.

"god," yuji huffs out. "finally! all those peptalks and you don't even tell me that you got the girl?"

megumi blushes from beside you. neither of you had expected yuji to be awake to witness you two watching the sunrise on the hill beside the school.

"you know," yuji grumbles, "it took a lot of convincing to have you realize that you've been in love this entire time, megumi. the least you could've done was tell me."

megumi ignores him and snuggles further into you.

"why are you up so early?" you ask, shuffling underneath the blanket that is covering you and your boyfriend.

"instinct." yuji's shoulders drop, defeated. "'k, i'm gonna leave you guys to be romantic and shit up here. have fun explaining this to nobara later."

nobara almost wrings your neck out when she catches megumi holding your hand that saturday morning. she tells him that he needs to make up for the months he left you feeling sad. he says he's already forgiven, and he's not wrong (because you're weak when it comes to him, just like he's weak when it comes to you).

you think that you would've chose to love him no matter the outcome. loving him is easy like that.

a/n: oh my god. this was a word dump and not proofread. i am so sorry this took forever to come out but i ended up changing the plot like a billion times cus it wasn't good enough.. LOL. hope u enjoyed this!!! thx for making me write more megumi because i love writing him (he's been my fave character since the anime came out three years ago hehehe). ngl it was kinda rushed bc i wanted to get this out but i think it turned out fine!!!! ok thx once again ily muah xx

#jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi angst #megumi x you #i love megumi sm #he’s been my fave since i was like 15 so you know i had to write this up #sorry this took forever #yuji and nobara are really good friends #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

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mind-empty-just-fictional-people · 9 months

Text

Another Classic Rock Fan

masterlist

summary : a broken jukebox leads dean to a woman who’s so much like him that she sweeps him off his feet.

pairing : (earlier seasons) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language, sexual themes (?)

word count : 1.7k

warnings: language, implied sex/nudity, violence

gif source

“Son of a bitch!” You muttered, hitting the side of the jukebox, as if that would suddenly fix the (clearly half-a-century-old) machine in front of you.

“I tried that ten minutes ago sweetheart, it doesn’t do much,” A man’s voice said behind you.

“Well, maybe you didn't hit it right!” You exclaimed, hitting it again but in a different spot.

“What song are you trying to play?” He asked.

“AC/DC, You Shook Me All Night Long. And, before you say anything; if you want a shot at getting in my pants tonight don’t you dare disrespect that band,” You replied before you finally turned around to look at the man. “Or any of the classics, while you're at it.” He was taller than you, with brown hair and light brown eyes that stared down at you. The room was dark, but you could see a smirk form on his full lips when he saw your face.

“Hey, I wouldn’t dream of it!” He held up his hands in defense. “I’m an AC/DC fan myself.”

“Favorite song?” You quizzed, narrowing your gaze.

“Trick question, they’re all great,” He shrugged a little.

“Correct,” You nodded. “List some songs though.”

“Thunderstruck, Sin City, Girls Got Rhythm, Let There Be Rock; should I keep going?”

“No, I believe you're a fan,” You laughed, letting your guard down a little.

“So baby,” He smirked, “what’s the going price?”

Your smile disappeared and you stared daggers at him. “Go to hell!” You exclaimed before you brushed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as you did so.

“Wait- That’s- Shit,” He stuttered, regretting what he said.

You turned around, a childish smile now on your face as you looked up at him; “Shot Down In Flames, nice job. You really thought I didn’t get the reference?”

“I really thought,” He laughed lightly. “Let me buy you a drink?”

“Sure,” You turned back around and he followed you to the counter. You could feel him staring down at your ass and you smirked a little; you wore your jeans that accented that feature for a reason.

“I’m Dean, by the way,” He smiled when the two of you sat down. “What’re you drinking?”

“I’m Y/n, and just a beer’s fine.”

“So, is there a reason you’re alone at a bar on a Thursday night?” He asked, motioning the bartender toward you. He then ordered two beers.

“I’m in town for work, don’t really know anyone here,” You shrugged and took a sip of the beer.

“Me too, actually,” Dean responded.

“Really? What kinda work?”

“Law enforcement.”

“Would not take you for a cop,” You nodded in response.

“So, who got you into AC/DC?” He asked, wanting to change the subject.

“My mom traveled for work so my little sister and I were stuck in the car a lot. My mom loved classic rock. It’s all she ever played for us, really.”

“No way! My dad was the same way! Traveled for work, loved the classics, played ‘em for me and my little brother all the time!” He exclaimed, both of you smiling widely.

The two of you talked about nothing in particular for another twenty or so minutes, Dean making the occasional flirty joke about taking you to his motel room.

“Oh my god!” Sam exclaimed, covering his eyes in a hurry.

“Sam, what the hell! Knock!” Dean huffed back as you hurried to cover yourself with the sheets. Dean stood up, still wearing boxers, and you sat up in the bed.

“Wait, you’re Sam?” You furrowed your brows. “And you’re Dean. The Impala in the parking lot…shit. You’re not- You’re not the Winchesters, right?”

“How’d you know that?” Dean asked.

You covered your face with your hands and groaned; “Oh my god! You must be working the case here! The four women drained of blood?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?” Dean repeated, his voice now raised a little.

“Calm down, I’m a hunter,” You sighed. “I’m here working the case too, it’s clearly a vampire!”

“You’re a hunter?” Dean affirmed.

“What, you didn’t see the anti-possession tattoo?”

“No, I definitely did,” He smirked.

You looked up at him, a smirk finding its way onto your lips as well. You stood up, holding the sheet like a towel wrapped around you. “So, why don’t we work the case together?” You said, placing an open hand on his heaving chest.

He took your face in his hands and replied, “Of course,” before he kissed you.

Sam cleared his throat obnoxiously before he exclaimed; “Four dead bodies? Possible vampire nest? Impending doom? Any of this ringing a bell?”

“Sammy-” Dean started.

“Come back in about fifteen minutes, okay?” You told the taller man and then kissed Dean again. Sam got out of the room in a hurry so as not to see what the quickly escalating situation would become.

“I’m Agent Jovi, this is my partner Agent Sambora,” Sam and Dean flashed their badges as you did the same.

“And I’m Agent Paula Stanley,” You added to Dean’s introduction. Dean looked at you as if with awe as you simply continued with the conversation. “Could you take us to the bodies, please?”

“Right this way,” The doctor replied. You followed him to the morgue, Dean’s eyes glued to your ass as you walked away.

“Dean?” Sam interrupted his train of thought.

“What?” Dean exclaimed, clearly out of sorts and still very distracted.

“God, you are a mess!” Sam joked, Dean just looked at him with confusion. “C’mon, you’re practically drooling over this girl!” He laughed lightly.

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Well, she- She’s just-” Dean scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I got nothing.”

“Dude, it’s okay. Just, ask her out after the case, please? We’ve got lives to save,” He patted Dean’s shoulder before they both walked into the morgue as the doctor walked out.

“Hey, does this girl look familiar?” You scrunched your eyebrows and looked at the newest vampire kill; the fifth vampire kill.

“No, does she look familiar to you?” Sam asked. He took a look at the toe tag, “Silvia Mortenson?”

“Oh my god, she was at the bar last night! I’m sure of it!”

“Did you see her leave with anyone?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, uh this man; he struck out with me,” You inhaled sharply, “so he went to talk to her.”

“That’s when you went for the jukebox,” Dean nodded.

“Yeah- Wait, were you watching me?” You questioned, a slight teasing tone in your voice.

“I may have had my eyes on the ridiculously hot woman in the Kiss tank top,” He smirked.

“So, we know who it is. Now what, we watch him, see who he leaves with, and follow them?” Sam interrupted.

“Or, we do the smart thing,” You shrugged. The brothers looked at you with confusion. “Use me as bait, duh! I lure him out, let him take me to the nest, you two follow me and we take them down from the inside.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not happening.”

“Why not?” You asked.

“Uh, where do I start?” Dean scoffed. You slightly tilted your head, confused. “It’s way too dangerous! You could die!”

“We’re hunters, Dean; danger and death are kinda in the job description.”

“Well, yeah, but…” Dean trailed off, trying to think of a way to keep you out of immediate danger.

“Yep, we’re doing this,” You nodded.

“I’d like to take you up on that drink now,” You smirked, sitting next to the vampire. He had offered to buy you a beer the previous night, but you turned him down.

“What, you're not leaving with Leather Jacket again?” He replied, gesturing to Dean, who sat at the other end of the bar.

“Well, I’m not one to kiss and tell, but let’s just say I want a real man to rock my world tonight.”

He led you back to his motel where four other vampires were waiting. Sam and Dean rushed in after you, but you had already beheaded two of them. Sam got one, while Dean got the other. You walked up to the last one, the one you had followed here.

“And just so we’re clear, this man,” You pointed at Dean, keeping the machete in your hand ready, “is amazing in bed!” And you chopped the vamp’s head off. You turned to Sam and Dean, all three of you splattered with blood. “What?” You asked, seeing the shocked and confused looks on their faces.

“Gotta say, that’s the craziest way a woman has ever complimented me,” Dean smirked.

“Just setting the record straight,” You shrugged, smiling.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sam exclaimed when Dean walked into the room.

“I’m here to pack up before we hit the road?” He furrowed his brows before Sam rolled his eyes.

“So where’s Y/n, then?”

“She’s got her own room, second floor, why?”

“Did you get her number?”

“No…?”

“Are you an idiot?”

“Can you just get to the fuckin’ point?”

“Go ask her out before she leaves!” Sam exclaimed, seeing the gears in Dean’s head slowly turning before he left the room.

“Can I ask you something?” Dean said, standing outside your motel room.

“Sure,” You shrugged a little. You opened the door further so he could go inside.

“Why’d you say that? To the vampire, I mean.”

“About you being good in bed?” He nodded. “Well, when I was flirting with him at the bar I had to lie and say you weren’t good in bed, so I figured I’d set the record straight before killing him.”

“Oh!” He let out a bit of a laugh. “I guess that makes sense.”

“Can I ask you something?” You asked. “What are you doing here? I thought the famous Dean Winchester was all about lovin’ and leavin’.”

“That’s what I’m famous for?”

“Well, that and you know, all the incredible hunter stuff.”

“I- I’m here to ask for your number.”

“Hunter phone, or personal?” You asked. (It was pretty common for hunters to have at least two phones - one for hunter contacts and one for friends/family.)

“Personal, is what I was hoping for.”

“Okay,” You smiled.

#spn #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 9 months

Text

"you can do whatever you want, you're not Stuck With Me."

"i'll tell you one thing, we'd make history, you and me. you're getting closer now, it's getting better now, but you're still so far gone."

synopsis// bottled up feelings have to come out eventually.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 8k

contents// angst with a happy ending, college!au, literally just y/n and geto being idiots but mostly y/n, shoko only knows tough love, obligatory rain scene, friends to lovers, ooc geto?

notes// scorpions are haunting me so i’m posting this as a distraction. anyways one of my anons requested this!!! so anon i hope i did ur idea justice and that u like it sorry its kinda all over the place.... anywho so besides this being a request, it was also inspired by the song the point by eatmewhileimhot! bye :3 OH and if anyone else has any other requests feel free to lmk!!

You poke at your food, focusing on the sound your fork makes as it scrapes against your plate instead of whatever the person sitting across from you is saying. You know you should pay attention; you know you’re being rude, but god, are you bored out of your fucking mind. You would much rather be hanging out with Suguru right now, feeling a twinge of regret at turning him down just for this.

“Y/N?”

Your head raises to look at the person in front of you. “Huh?”

They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

You frown sheepishly. “Uh, no, sorry.”

“It’s fine,“ they say, clearing their throat, “I was just saying how I kinda wish we went somewhere else cause I'm craving zaru soba, but I wanted to impress you, you know?”

You nod, not computing the last of his sentence with your brain stuck on the mention of zaru soba. “Suguru likes that.”

“What?”

“Zaru soba—Suguru likes that.”

Your date shoots you a confused stare, and you subconsciously sink into your chair.

“Is, uh, is there something on my face or?” you ask, bringing your hands up to feel around your face.

They shake their head. “No, it’s just—uh, you bring up this Suguru guy a lot, and by a lot, I mean like you’ve brought him up this whole date...”

“I have?”

They nod.

“Shit—i’m sorry..”

“It’s fine.” They dismiss your apology by asking, “What is he to you anyway?”

You stare at him blankly. That’s an easy question. Suguru, to you, is your—he’s your—

“He your friend or something?”

Yes! Suguru is your friend—your best friend even—so why can't you say it out loud? Why are you hesitating?

You laugh nervously, mumbling, “Or something...”

“Or something?” they repeat in hopes you’ll elaborate on what you mean.

You don’t.

Instead, you stand abruptly out of your seat and gather your things. “Um! You know, this has been really great and all, but I actually think I should get going.”

"Oh, okay,” they say, standing up with you. “Uh, do you wanna do this again maybe?”

“You're a lovely person, but...

“It's Suguru, isn't it?”

“What?” You almost choke on your spit as you frantically stammer, “No, uh, no! It's not Suguru-Suguru’s just my-it's-“ you pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “It's not because of him.”

They curtly hum. “Thanks for giving me a chance anyway.”

You nod. “I'm gonna—I'm gonna go.”

☆☆☆☆

Suguru is face down on a pillow on his bed when Gojo walks into their shared dorm.

“What happened now?” He asks as he goes to sit on the edge of Suguru’s bed.

“Y/N’s on a date,” he grumbles into the pillow, his words barely audible.

Gojo rolls his eyes. "Suguru, this is just sad at this point.”

Suguru lifts his head and glares at Gojo from over his shoulder. His eyes burning holes into the other's head.

“What? It is!”

Suguru groans and kicks Gojo as he buries his face back into his pillow.

“Ow! Don’t get mad at me for telling the truth!”

Suguru kicks him again.

“Stop that! You’re acting like a child!”

“You’re one to talk.”

“Ok, listen, this isn’t about me,” Gojo adds, rolling his eyes.

Suguru rolls onto his back and drapes an arm over his face, muttering, “Whatever.”

“Oh my fucking god,” Gojo grumbles as he stands up and walks over to his own bed. “I can't take this, Suguru.“ He grabs his pillow and throws it at Suguru. "You can't do this every time they go on a date!”

Suguru doesn’t even flinch when the pillow lands on his face, nor does he bother moving it as he responds, “Watch me.”

Gojo walks back over to Suguru and grabs the pillow from his face before resuming his position on the end of Suguru's bed. "How long has it been?”

“Since?”

“Since you first started liking them.”

Suguru hesitates to answer, “Too long.”

“Exactly!” Gojo exclaims, shaking the pillow in his hands for dramatic effect. “Maybe…”

Suguru waits a moment to see if Gojo will finish his sentence, and when he doesn’t, Suguru sits up, quirking up his eyebrow at him as he asks slowly, as if attempting to subtly warn Gojo to pick his next words carefully: "Maybe what, Gojo?”

“Maybe it’s time to try and move on, Suguru…” He frowns and asks softly, “Are you just gonna torture yourself like this for the rest of your life?”

Suguru sighs and turns away from Gojo, a small frown on his face. He knows he’s right, but he’s scared in all honesty because, on the one hand, what if it works? What if he actually does move on? What if it was this easy to move on this whole time and he was just here torturing himself for nothing? And on the other hand, he doesn't want it to. He’s liked you for so long. You've taken up so much of his heart that, at this point, he thinks his heart is shaped like you, and it would feel wrong to not like you. He can't imagine himself not being completely and utterly devoted to you, and he doesn’t think he wants to.

“Suguru.”

Suguru's brows knit together as he looks up at Gojo.

Gojo sighs. “Just try? One date. That’s all I’m asking.”

Suguru rolls his eyes, but there’s no real malice behind it. “I don’t even know anybody, Gojo.”

He perks up at the absence of rejection and happily explains, “Don’t worry bout that; leave it all up to me!" He emphasizes the word 'me' by pointing toward himself.

“Ok, well, that makes me even more inclined to say no.”

"Suguru, pleaseee,” Gojo begs. “Just one date!! That’s all I’m asking! You’re my friend, Suguru, and I know I don’t act like it, but I really do hate seeing you like this.”

Suguru crosses his arms and raises his eyebrow at him in suspicion, wondering, “Why are you being nice?”

“Because, contrary to popular belief, I do in fact care about my friends.”

Suguru breathes out heavily at his response, letting a brief silence wash over them.

“So..." Gojo pries.

“Fine.”

“Yay!-“

Suguru instantly cuts him off, one finger raised, as he emphasizes sharply, “But just one date, Gojo.“

“Good enough for me!” he says, nodding quickly. “This will be the best date of your life, and you’ll realize you don’t even like Y/N all that much!”

Suguru feels like the wind’s been knocked out of him from that statement but quickly plays it off with a scoff, “Yeah, or it’s the worst date of my life, and I realize just how much more I like Y/N.”

“Ok, well,“ Gojo frowns and scratches his head awkwardly, “Can we at least try to be optimistic?”

“Fine.”

☆☆☆☆

Shoko’s sitting on her bed with her textbook in her lap when you enter your dorm, kicking your shoes off haphazardly across the room and slamming the door shut.

“You good?”

You groan in response as you sluggishly make your way toward her, pushing the book off her lap and instead replacing it with your head.

She looks down at you with a raised eyebrow. “I was reading that, you know.”

You groan again, but this time it comes out louder and more gutteral.

“Are you gonna tell me what's wrong, or are you gonna just lay here in my lap groaning?” she asks, rolling her eyes.

You pout, looking up at her. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“Where should I start?”

“Shoko,” you whine.

She bites back a smile as she asks, “Why would you think something's wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” you mutter. “I mean, I go on so many dates, right?”

Shoko nods and hums something in acknowledgment.

“But they all never end up working out! Like none of them!” You exclaim, throwing your hands out in front of you, barely missing Shoko, who jerks her head to the side just in time. “They always all say the same thing.”

She pushes your hands back down so that she can return to her original position and asks, “Which is?”

You let your hands fall onto your chest as you turned your head to the side to avoid her gaze, mumbling, “That I mention Suguru a lot.”

You don’t even have to look back up at her to know she’s raising her eyebrows at you in question.

“Well, do you?”

Your gaze snaps back up at her as you exclaim, “Yeah, but!” You pause. “He's my… He's my best friend, so obviously I'd mention him a lot!”

The word best friend feels heavy and foreign in your mouth, like it shouldn’t have been there in the first place. You’ve never had to put a label on you and Suguru, not until the dates at least, but even then, you and Suguru were just... simply that. You were just you and Suguru.

“Really feeling the love here.”

“Shokoooooo.”

She rolls her eyes. “You were just on a date, right?”

You nod.

“And so what happened?”

“Nothing! I was bored; I'm always bored on these dates.”

"Okay, hypothetically,” she says, “What would you have rather been doing?”

“Hanging out with Suguru! I always tell myself that I'm literally gonna stop canceling on him for dates because I always end up regretting it.”

“Right, right,” she says, nodding. “Y/N, have you ever considered that maybe you like Geto?”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I like Suguru, idiot. Did you not just hear me call him my-“

She cuts you off: “Your best friend. Yeah, whatever; that's not what I mean. I mean, like. romantically.”

“Huh?” Shoko’s words take a minute to fully register in your brain, but once they do, your jaw drops. “Huh?! Pft, no, of course not, that is... That is a… That is a silly thought.”

She stares down at you blankly, knowing the way you just stumbled over your whole sentence reveals your lack of conviction in your own words. "Right… Well, if you’re gonna be an idiot in denial, can you do that in your own bed? I need to study.”

You roll your eyes as you sit up. “Is studying all you do?”

She shrugs, and now that her lap is free from you, she places her textbook back into her lap. “Is obsessing over Geto all you do?”

“I don't like you.”

“You love me. Now leave me alone.”

You begrudgingly hop off her bed and into your own, making it a point to sigh dramatically the whole time. Once you're in your own bed, your phone goes off, and upon seeing who the message is from, you bite back a smile.

Shoko looks up from her textbook at the noise. “Oh? That your man?”

“Shut your mouth.”

She simply laughs under her breath before returning to her studies, and you happily return your attention back to your phone.

Suguru<3: hey

Y/N: hey!

Suguru<3: oh I didn't expect you to reply so quick lol. I thought u were on a date?

Y/N: was :/ that shit suckedddddd it was so boring Suguru pls I would've much rather hung out with you

Suguru<3: well I mean u could've

Y/N: I KNOWWWW ugh next time remind me to never cancel on you for a lame date again k?

Suguru<3: yeah I will… so I'm taking it you won't be seeing them again?

Y/N: definitely not... I do wanna see u again tho!!

Suguru<3: you'll see me in class y/n

Y/N: yeah but that's so far awayyyyy

Suguru<3: yk if u wanna hangout rn u can just say so

Y/N: do u wanna hang out?

Suguru<3: he can't he's busy -gojo

Y/N: gojo when I get my hands on u.

Suguru<3: :p -gojo

You groan dramatically and throw your phone somewhere onto your bed as you shove your face into your pillow, mumbling, “I'm going to sleep.”

“Eager to see your man tomorrow?”

“Die.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Gojo and Suguru are walking to class when Gojo starts humming obnoxiously, like he’s thinking about something and wants someone to notice, so he doesn’t stop until Suguru sighs.

“Can you shut up?”

Gojo frowns and feigns hurt. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’m thinking about?”

“Fine, what are you thinking about, Gojo?”

Gojo slightly leans in toward Suguru as he coos, “Thinking about who I’m gonna set you up with, obviously!”

"Oh, right about that...”

“Nuh uh, you can't back out!”

“But I think they might feel the same?” Suguru says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

Gojo’s head whips toward Suguru in shock. “Wait huh?”

“Before you stole my phone yesterday—which I’m still mad about, by the way—they said they would’ve rather hung out with me than go on the date,” he says, pulling out his phone to show Gojo the texts.

Gojo doesn’t say anything, and the lack of anything coming out of his mouth worries Suguru, who’s now scanning Gojo’s face for a trace of anything to tell him what the other is thinking and gets it when Gojo finally cracks a frown.

“What? Why do you look like that?” Suguru asks, and he hates how it comes out more panicked than he intended, his own voice like nails on a chalkboard to his ears.

“I don't wanna say anything that would get your hopes up,” Gojo says, his gaze now fixed on his steps. “And besides, maybe this date could still be good.”

“You’re not gonna let me get out of this, are you?”

“Of course not!” he says, his regular pep back in his step. “So does tomorrow work for you?”

“Yeah, whatever, Gojo, you’d make me go regardless, I don’t know why you ask.”

“Lol, true anyway." Gojo’s steps come to a halt. "Here’s my class; see you later!”

Suguru waves him off: "Yeah, whatever, oh, and Gojo?”

“Hm?”

“At least set me up with someone good," he says, an ever-so-slight smile on his face.

“Of course! Leave it all up to me, bestie!”

Suguru nods and continues on toward his own class, only then does he huff, “Yeah, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

☆☆☆☆

You sat in your seat, your cheek leaning in your palm, sighing every so often from boredom but quickly perking up when you notice a familiar face walk through the door.

“Suguru!”

“Y/N!”

Your gaze is glued to him as you watch him take his seat beside you; only once he’s fully situated do you speak up again: “I was wondering if you were skipping or something.”

Suguru tilts his head at you in confusion, asking, “Why?”

“Because you took so long.”

He tries to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks. “Did you miss me that much?”

“Shut up. What were you doing anyway?”

Suguru rolls his eyes. “Gojo made me walk him to class.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, your voice unamused as you speak, “Lame excuse, I walk with Shoko to her class every day and I still get here before you.”

“Yeah, that’s cause it’s Shoko?”

“True, I’ll excuse it for today if...”

“If?” He narrows his eyes at you, urging you to continue your sentence.

“If we hang out tomorrow?”

“Can we hang out today?” He looks away as he says, “I’m kinda busy tomorrow....”

“Aw man,” you say, frowning, “You’re never busy.”

“I know, sorry, it’s just—" He halts before mumbling out the rest of his sentence—“something Gojo’s making me do.”

Suguru finally returns his gaze to you when he hears you huff.

“He’s taking you from me too often; I'll have to intervene sooner or later if he keeps this up.”

He stifles a laugh. “Can you not today?”

“Nope, I've gotta work on a project for one of my classes,” you say with a disappointed sigh.

“Okay, well, how about Wednesday, then?”

“I can fit you into my schedule, I suppose.”

“Oh shut up; don’t act like you weren’t the one asking me to hang out last night.”

“I was a different person then,” you deadpan.

Suguru rolls his eyes but can’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Yeah, ok.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Come the next afternoon, Suguru finds himself staring into a mirror at his outfit with a small scowl on his face.

“I look stupid.”

“You always look stupid,” Gojo remarks, patting Suguru on the back.

Suguru ignores him and rolls his eyes, his voice small as he borderline pleads, “Do I really have to go?”

“Yes! It’s too late to back out now when your date is in like twenty minutes, so really you should get going by now,” he says while attempting to push Suguru out the door.

Suguru doesn’t budge. “I don't even know this person, Gojo.”

“That’s what dates are for!”

Suguru looks over his shoulder at Gojo, who’s still trying to push him out the door. “You know this isn’t gonna work, right?”

Gojo rolls his eyes and huffs, “Well, not with that attitude.”

“Gojo.”

“Suguru, you said you’d try! so go! try!”

Suguru sighs and reluctantly gives in… again. “I hate you.”

Gojo waves him off, “Yeah, yeah, whatever you can hate me after your date.”

Suguru doesn’t reply and instead opts to flip him off as he walks out the door.

☆☆☆☆

Suguru sits at a secluded booth in a dimly lit restaurant, lost in thought rather than listening to whatever the person sitting across from him is saying. He knows he should be paying attention; he knows he’s being rude, but god is he bored out of his fucking mind, and to say he’s hating every second of this is an understatement. He’d much rather be hanging out with you right now, regretting turning you down for this because just being here makes a part of him feel like he’s betraying you, and the thought has him anxiously wiping his sweaty palms against his pants. He’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you. Suguru was naive to believe he could delude himself into thinking that there was any possibility in any way that he’d move on, let alone with someone Gojo picked.

“Suguru?”

He quickly looks up at the person in front of him. “Yeah?”

They laugh nervously. “Did you hear anything I just said?”

“No, sorry—I guess I was just, uh, lost in thought.”

"Oh, it’s fine,” they say, confusingly normal about the whole situation. “I was just, um, talking about your friend Gojo, actually.”

He blinks. “Why?”

“I was actually hoping you'd help me get with him?”

“You do realize you're on a date with me, right?”

“Please.” They roll their eyes. “Don't act like you wanna be here any more than I do right now.”

“How did-“

“It's written all over your face, you know? They must be really special.” They tease with a sweet smile, “I almost feel like I should be jealous.”

Suguru swallows harshly, suddenly feeling way more exposed than he would ever want to, especially on a ‘date’. “Sorry…”

They shrug. “Don't be; honestly, I just said yes to this to get some pointers on Gojo, so I don't think I'm any better than you right now.”

Suguru nods, his mind reeling. He’s not actually sure what’s going on or how he got here in the first place. How could his date be so okay with the fact that he’s here thinking about someone else? Oh, right, because so are they, but it’s still not clicking in his brain.

“You can leave if you want.”

He narrows his eyes at them skeptically. “Huh?”

“To go hang out with the one you actually like.”

Suguru shakes his head. There’s somehow too much happening right now for him to comprehend. “Again, what?”

They roll their eyes playfully, an amused smile on their face, as they lean over the table and whisper, “Suguru, I'm giving you an out.”

He blinks, and suddenly everything clicks, and he doesn’t understand why he’s still here when they just told him they could go to you. He stands up abruptly and says, “Right, I'm...“

“Don't say you're sorry; make it up to me by going to them, yeah?”

“I really appreciate that. Uhm, text me and I'll give you pointers on Gojo?”

They laugh and nod. “Yeah. Now, shoo, go to the one you actually want to be with.”

Suguru turns his head toward the exit of the restaurant, ready to leave, but pauses and ends up turning back to his ‘date’, a small smile on his face. “Thank you.”

“Mhm! Also, I want to meet them sometime, k? We’re friends now, sorry!”

“Yeah… Yeah, you can. Someday? Maybe…”

They tilt their head at him, unamused despite the smile on their face. “Bye Suguru.”

He returns the smile and waves before heading off to find you.

☆☆☆☆

You found yourself under a tree somewhere on campus, attempting—and failing—to entertain yourself since Suguru was busy and couldn't hang out, and you didn't even dare try to go to Shoko for entertainment, knowing her face is probably stuffed into her textbook and she would berate you for interrupting her, or if she did agree, she would spend the whole time with her whole face screaming how she would much rather be studying, even when her studying proves to be just for fun because she cheats on her exams anyway, but you digress. Lost in thought, you don't notice how someone’s approached you until their shadow falls over you.

“You dead?”

You look up and are pleasantly surprised to see Suguru. “Hey! I thought you were busy?”

Suguru shrugs. “Left early.”

“What’d you go do anyway?”

“A date.”

The minute the words leave Suguru’s mouth, you can feel your stomach churn in a horrible way. like you’re on a rollercoaster, but it's not fun; you want to get off, and you want to get off now, like this is final destination and you’re about to fall to your doom. Or more so, this makes you realize you've already fallen to your doom; you've already fallen in love with Suguru, and it took Shoko saying something and him going on a date for it to really sink in like it hadn't been there all along. Your jaw clenches, and you're quiet—terrifyingly quiet—and it makes Suguru regret saying anything; he doesn’t even know why he did... Okay, no, he knows. He knows he was acting petty and wanted to rub it in your face like you rub your dates in his, even if not purposeful, and besides, you two are friends, and friends are honest with each other. But maybe he shouldn’t have been, and it's excrutiatingly obvious he shouldn't have been when you suddenly stand up and avoid his gaze.

“Y/N?”

You kick at the dirt under your shoes and mumble, “I should, um, Shoko actually just texted me.”

“Y/N, can you look at me, please?” Suguru sounds desperate.

You look up at him and smile, but with the way your eyes are glazed over, it’s like you’re not even there. “Yeah?”

“I thought we could hang out now?”

“Yeah, but—ugh—Shoko really needs my help, you know?”

“Are we still on for tomorrow at least?”

“I hope your date was good, Suguru.”

“Y/N-“

“If I keep her waiting any longer, she’ll be really mad. I’m gonna go.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。��。☆。

Suguru wishes he could say he’s surprised when you don’t show up to class the next day, but he’s not. Not at all. Especially from the way you ran off yesterday to how you’re still not answering any of his texts or calls, it was a telltale sign that Suguru would not be seeing you today. That didn’t stop him from trying, though. Of course not. So halfway through class, he left—not like he was paying attention anyway—and made his way to your dorm. Though he hesitates to knock once he’s actually there, he doesn’t even know why you’re ignoring him in the first place, and honestly? He’s scared to find out.

You’ve never acted like this with him before; you’ve always been an open book, always the first to speak up if something he did upset you, so he doesn’t understand why you’ve suddenly done a complete 180. He takes a deep breath before knocking. He came all this way; he isn’t going to just leave without figuring out what's wrong—or at least he’s going to try to figure out what's wrong.

No answer.

He knocks again.

No answer.

Suguru groans as he goes to knock one more time, but before he can, the door is swung open, and he’s met with a disheveled-looking Shoko.

“What?”

“Shoko, hi—“ Suguru gives her a quick once-over. "Sorry, were you asleep?”

She crosses her arms and blows a tuft of hair out of her face. “I was, and I'd like to go back to sleep, so-“

“Right, sorry, uh, is Y/N here?”

“No,” she replies quickly, far too quickly that Suguru doesn't believe her and instead tries to look into the room to find you. Shoko immediately picks up on this and shifts her body to cover any gaps he could look through. “They aren’t here, sorry.”

“Shoko,” he monotones.

She chews the inside of her lip and looks away, and Suguru can tell she's dying to say something, but she ultimately decides against it and shakes her head, looking back up at him.

“They’re not here, sorry.”

Suguru sighs, running a hand through his hair. “It's fine, sorry for waking you.”

“It's fine… Take care of yourself, Geto.”

“Yeah. You too.”

Shoko quickly shuts the door, and instead of climbing back into bed, she grabs her pillow and makes her way toward your bed, only to end up hitting you with it repeatedly. You pull your covers over your head in a futile attempt to protect yourself.

“Shoko, stop!”

“You stop.” She punctuates every word with a hit of her pillow.

“You’re the one hitting me!”

Shoko hits you one last time. “I mean, stop ignoring him, idiot.”

You peek your head out from under the covers, a frown on your face.

“Don't look at me like that; you’re acting childish, and you know that.”

“I can’t look at him.”

“You’re dramatic.”

“Shoko, I'm serious!” You speak adamantly, sitting up. “I mean, I realize I like him the exact moment he tells me he went on a date?”

“Who’s fault is that?”

“Shoko, I-I can't.”

“Whatever, sulk all you want; don't talk to him about it; I don't care; just scoot over.”

Your face twists in confusion. “What?”

“I'm tired,” she says blankly, now climbing into your bed.

You listen and scoot over, though it's more like she pushes you over. “You know you have your own bed, right?”

She yawns: “Too far away.”

You look down at her, and she's somehow already fast asleep. You roll your eyes and lay back down, looking up at the ceiling with your mind racing, and suddenly your phone vibrates. You know who it is; he’s the only one who texts you, but that doesn’t stop you from checking anyway.

Suguru<3: hey.

Suguru<3: did I do something?

Suguru<3: I don't understand.

Suguru<3: you weren't in class so I tried going to ur dorm. shoko said you weren't there but I don't really believe her.

Suguru<3: can you just talk to me please?

Suguru<3: I miss you.

Suguru<3: guess this means we aren’t hanging out today huh?

Suguru<3: text me soon please.

☆☆☆☆

Thursday

Suguru<3: no class again?

Suguru<3: look I get it

Suguru<3: okay maybe I don't.

Suguru<3: I don't know what I did wrong but if you don't wanna talk that's fine

Suguru<3: can you just let me know you’re okay?

Suguru<3: fuck I don't even care if you have shoko tell me you’re okay or if you tell gojo I just

Suguru<3: I just need to know you’re okay y/n.

Suguru<3: how long are you gonna avoid me?

Suguru<3: or avoid class?

Suguru<3: I miss you.

“Can you answer your fucking phone,” Shoko snaps.

You glare at her and instead shut your phone off completely. “There. Happy?”

"No, not at all; I won't be happy till you stop sulking.”

You smile at her condescendingly. "You are so lovely; did you know that?”

She sighs deeply. “Y/N, you’re ignoring Geto because he went on one date.”

“I'm ignoring him because I'm in love with him.”

She narrows her eyes at you. “And he's supposed to know that how? I'm a hundred percent sure the poor boy has no clue what he did.”

“Shoko, you don't get it! You've never been in love,” you sneer.

“I don't need to be in love to know you're acting stupid.” She shakes her head. “You know what? Ignore him all you want; that's your problem, but you need to go to class; don't throw away your college degree for him.”

You sigh, finally agreeing with her on at least one thing. “Yeah... Yeah, I know I'll go tomorrow.”

She nods happily. “Good. Now can I get back to studying?”

“I'm not the one who made you stop, you took that upon yourself.”

“Watch yourself; I'll walk my ass straight to Geto's dorm and tell him for you.”

“…Sorry”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

You get to class the next day extremely early and take a seat in the far back, away from everyone else, hoping Suguru would somehow not see you, or maybe more like in hopes you wouldn’t see him. It doesn't work. The minute he walks in, his eyes are drawn to yours like there was an invisible string there tying him directly to you, and your stomach twists as you see him approach you. As he’s approaching you, he sees your face, and he sees how you look like you're five seconds away from vomiting up everything you’ve ever eaten since you were born, so he stops in his tracks. Besides, a confrontation in the middle of class wouldn't be a good idea either way, so he’ll just catch you after class.

That somehow proves to be much harder than it should have been because once class ends and he turns around to catch you before you leave, you're already gone. He blinks incredulously at your empty seat for a moment before snapping out of it and running out into the halls, trying to find you among the crowd of people, which is easy for him considering you're the only thing that exists to Suguru right now and pretty much always, but even despite that, he can't find you. He stands in the hall, watching people pass him by as he does nothing, and the only thing he can hear is his heartbeat ringing in his ears and the rain that suddenly started sometime during all of this.

He finally snaps out of it once more and realizes that since it randomly started raining, there's a chance that you're somewhere waiting the rain out, unless you are so dead set on avoiding him that you don't care in the first place and walk back to your dorm in the rain anyway... Suguru hopes he's right as he starts walking toward the exit, and exhales heavily in relief when he sees you out on the porch and slowly creeps up behind you.

“Did you know it was gonna rain?”

You flinch at the sound of his voice. “No.”

Suguru’s heart feels like it's about to burst right out of his chest, and he feels like it's been way too long since he's heard your voice. “I think Gojo is gonna bring me an umbrella; do you wanna wait with me?”

“No.”

“No?”

You shake your head and start walking out into the rain, but you don't get far when Suguru reaches out and grabs your wrist.

“Wait!”

You look back at him, your jaw clenched tight. “Let go of me, Suguru.”

“You’ll get sick.”

You yank your wrist out of his grasp. “I don't care; I want to go back to my dorm.”

For a few moments, Suguru feels stuck in place as he watches you begin to walk away, yet everything in his being is screaming at him to go after you, to not let you go. He doesn’t even realize he was holding his breath this whole time until he gasps for air, and at the same time, his body finally decides to align with his mind, and he runs after you. You can hear his foot steps pattering against puddles, which only makes you speed up your walking.

Suguru notices this, and although he's still chasing after you, he decides to call out a pained, “Why are you ignoring me?”

You almost don't even hear him over how loud the rain has grown.

Almost.

“I'm not ignoring you, Suguru,” you say, stopping in your tracks with a deep sigh. He’ll catch you sooner or later, so maybe it's best to just get it over with.

Suguru doesn’t say anything until he's right behind you. You can hear just how clearly his voice trembles as he says, “Oh, so we’re lying now?”

“I'm no-“

“What the fuck happened? What are you doing?” and although he sounded exasperated only a second ago, when he speaks again, it's horrifyingly subdued: “This—this isn't us.”

You whip around to face him, a scowl on your face as you fume, “There is no us.”

Suguru’s face goes blank. No us? That's not right. That's all there is. There's only ever been an us because Suguru is not him without you. It's never just Suguru. It's you and Suguru; it's him and you; there's no him without you.

“What?”

“There is no us, Suguru; that's—“ you say, gesturing in little circles with your hands in front of you, trying to act out whatever word you're looking for. “That's the fucking problem.”

“I don't—“ His voice is breathy as he shakes his head in confusion. “What are you saying, Y/N?”

“You know what I'm saying.”

“No,” he says sternly, "No, I don't. I need to hear you say it.”

You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the rain falling against your face rather than the words coming out of your mouth: “I'm in love with you.”

The silence is suffocating, and you're violently aware of how you can feel Suguru’s eyes burning holes into you. You swallow harshly before peeking your eyes open, and he’s just standing there wide-eyed, his jaw slack.

“Suguru?”

“Why now?”

With his voice so small and brittle, you hardly even heard him.

“Huh?”

“Why now?” he repeats, this time louder, harsher.

“I don't—I don't understand?”

Suguru laughs in disbelief. He brings his hands up to cover his face, and he just laughs into them or cries; he's not even quite sure anymore. And after a few moments of this, he finally takes a deep breath, running one hand down his face as the other drops back to his side. “Do you know how long I’ve been in love with you, Y/N?”

“What?” You’re hopeful for a moment, but that all comes quickly crashing down, realization washing over you. “Wait, but you went on a date.”

“Y/N, it's been so long that Gojo got tired of me wallowing in my own self-pity every time you went on a date.” He sighs and takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “So he forced me to go on one too to try and help me move on.”

“Why didn't you wait for me?”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

Suguru doesn't know whether to nod or shake his head. “No, I know, but I don't understand.”

Your face scrunches up in disdain, silently reading—what's there to not understand? “Why didn't you wait for me to fall in love with you?”

“Y/N, do you even hear what you're saying right now?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear what I'm saying? All I've ever fucking done was wait for you, and I go on one date that I left early for you, and now I'm the bad guy?”

Your heart sinks like a bag of rocks into a deep body of water. “No wait, Suguru, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.”

Suguru looks down, avoiding your stare, carefully tapping a puddle with the tip of his shoe as he mumbles, “Yeah.”

“Do-“ you stop yourself and swallow harshly before continuing, “Are you still in love with me?”

He stays silent, and embarrassment floods your bones. How could he still love you? You, who's been subconsciously dangling a treat in front of him like some kind of animal just to coax him into doing what you want, into staying with you, following you around, just because you were too out of touch to realize you even liked him in the first place. Of course, he wouldn't still love you.

“Of course I am. Don't be silly,” he reluctantly admits.

Relief washes over you, and the breath you take feels like the first one you've taken since Tuesday, when he told you about his date in the first place. “So... now what?”

The same relief does not wash over Suguru; in fact, he's feeling anything but relief. Too many things to name, to pin point; it's just all too much. This is just too much. “I need space; I can't—" he shakes his head, his voice barely above a whisper, "I can't do this right now.”

“What?”

“I just. I can't. I'm sorry.”

Your voice cracks, “But-“

“I just need to think about this,” he says, waving his hands around in small circles, referencing the two of you.

“Oh.” You take a step back and nod. “Okay. I'll go then... I love you, Suguru.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Yeah, I love you too.”

Suguru watches you walk away, and he can't tell his tears apart from the rain; can’t tell if his heart is stopping or if it's racing; can't tell if he's breathing or suffocating; he can't tell anything. His surroundings are drowning out and blurring into vague shapes and figures around him, and Suguru is sure he could just drop dead right then and there.

“Jeez, I didn't take that long that you had to walk out in the rain, dramatic much?”

Suguru, in all honesty, didn’t hear a word that was just said; the only thing that caught his attention was the lack of rain hitting him. He looks up to find an umbrella there instead of the dark cloudy sky that resembled his insides a little too much, then looks to his side to find Gojo there, and he wants to wipe the stupid grin off his face. If he can't be happy, why should Gojo? His head drops in defeat at his own thoughts. God, he’s acting shitty.

“Sorry.”

Gojo looks at him curiously. “You good?”

“No. No, I'm not good.”

"Hey dude, what's wrong?”

Suguru lets out a harsh laugh, and with no rain hitting him anymore, he knows for sure the thing dripping down his face is tears. “I fucked up.“

Gojo scans Suguru’s face frantically, looking for something—anything—that will tell him what's wrong with his best friend.

“Suguru, you have to be a little more specific than that.”

“Y/N loves me back.”

Gojo goes wide-eyed, and he gives a confused smile because how could this warrant his friend’s reaction? “What dude, that's gr-“

Suguru quickly cuts him off: "Great, I know, but I told them to give me space, Gojo.”

Frankly, Gojo isn't even worried anymore; he’s just in complete disbelief, shouting, “What? Why the hell would you do that?! Are you stupid?”

“Maybe!” he shouts back, trembling. “I don't know! They just— They went on about how I should've waited for them, and I was mad because that's all I've ever fucking done. I don't know; I wasn't thinking straight, and I fucked up, and they left. I made them leave. I asked for space when I hated all the space we've had from each other this whole week, and I asked for more?” He repeatedly hits his forehead with his palm, muttering, “I'm an idiot, fuck.“

“Suguru.”

“What?”

Gojo tilts his head at him. “Why are you still here?”

The question stills his movements, his hand falling back to his side, and he stares at Gojo in pure confusion. “What?”

“You obviously know that space isn't what you want, and you just said it in the heat of the moment, so why are you still here?”

Suguru is silent.

“Why aren't you running after them? They want you, dude! And you want them too!”

Suguru thinks if it weren’t for Gojo constantly moving, he'd think time had completely stopped in time with his realization on how he’s a complete moron.

“Suguru.”

Suguru sighs. “I hate when you're right; you know that?”

Gojo perks up knowing that he got through to Suguru; he coos sing-song, “If that were true, you'd hate me all the time.”

Suguru nods, “I do.”

“Oh, shut up." Gojo extends the handle of his umbrella toward Suguru. “Do you want my umbrella?”

“No, it’s fine; I’m already wet,” Suguru says, looking down at his soaked clothes as he wipes any remaining tears away. “What’s a little bit more water?”

“Good luck, Suguru.”

“Thanks Gojo.”

☆☆☆☆

You walk into your dorm slowly, in a daze-like state. Honestly, you don't even remember walking here; you just remember your fight? confession? argument? — your something with Suguru, and then there's a lapse in your memory, and now you're here.

“Y/N, dude, you're getting water everywhere.“

You sniffle and look down at the puddle that's forming underneath you. “Sorry.”

Shoko tentatively stands up from her bed and cranes her neck down to try and look at your face. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You look up at her with a wobbly smile. “I confessed.”

She looks at you blankly, unsure if she should say something or if you are.

“He asked for space.”

“He likes you, and he asked for space?”

“I didn't tell you that—“

“It's obvious; keep up,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Anyways, so he asked for space?”

You nod blankly. “Uh huh.”

“Why?”

You rub your eyes in hopes that not looking at Shoko will make the embarrassment lessen. “I said some things in the heat of the moment, and... and yeah.”

It doesn’t.

She’s strangely unfazed; in fact, if anything, she’s partially annoyed. “Ok, and you’re just going to listen to him?”

“What else am I supposed to do, Shoko?” you ask incredulously, glaring at her with your hands back at your sides.

“Fight for him? He likes you back, and if you said something in the heat of the moment, odds are that him asking for space was also just in the heat of the moment.”

“You weren't there, Shoko. You didn't see how he was looking at me—at how he said it.”

“Y/N,” she says disappointedly, eyes shut and pinching her nose bridge. “He's literally been so upset at you ignoring him these past few days; do you really think he meant it when he asked for space? Even more space?”

You blink at her, your mind gone blank.

“Look, maybe he did, yeah? But maybe he didn't, and you won't know unless you go fight for him.”

“I don't know Shoko,” you mumble skeptically.

She rolls her eyes as she rebuts, "At the very least, you can apologize for what you said.”

“I already did.”

“Again, this time now that your head is… somewhat clearer... Are you really just gonna let him get away like this?”

“…no,” you answer weakly, which isn’t good enough for you or Shoko, who’s looking at you with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. “No,” you say again, this time with true conviction behind your words—word. “I don't want to let him get away like this. I don't want it to end like this.”

She gestures toward the door with a small, proud smile on her face. “Then go.”

You look back at the door before looking back at her and nodding. “Thank you, Shoko.”

“Uh huh,” she says, starting to walk back toward her bed, “and when you come back, you better not make another puddle.”

“No promises.”

☆☆☆☆

In an attempt to save whatever dignity you have left, you decide not to run down the halls like a shitty rom-com cliché; instead, you speed walk. Which, in hindsight, is probably even more embarrassing than just full-sending it by running, but you digress. You barely get halfway down the hall when you see Suguru. Both of you make eye contact at the same time, yet neither of you stop making your way toward each other, but you both slow down, carefully walking toward each other like two predators about to attack.

“You're leaving puddles in the hall,” you say quietly now that the two of you have come to a halt right in front of each other.

Suguru nods and looks you up and down. “So are you.”

You both stand there for a moment, just staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. Allowing your presence to speak for itself, but it's awkward—too awkward—and it feels like your knees are gonna give out on you if you stare at him any longer in silence.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came for you." He shakes his head, ignoring his own answer, like his very words aren't the most important thing to you right now. He came for you. “What are you doing here? I thought you would’ve been in your dorm by now.“

“I was—“ your voice grows quiet, “But I was coming for you too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you don’t have anything to apologize for, Suguru. I shouldn’t have said what I said; that was selfish of me. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want space,” he blurts out, hardly acknowledging your apology, which he didn't need in the first place. What he needs is you, and it will always be you.

“You don’t?”

“God no,” he says vehemently. “Space is the last thing I want. I don’t want space from you. I feel like there’s something missing when I’m away from you. How could I ever want space, Y/N?” His voice cracks a little at the end, and it has your heart racing. “I was just mad, and I shouldn’t have said that.”

You have all of these feelings inside you, and you’ve cried enough today to last the rest of your life, so instead you find yourself laughing, and Suguru looks slightly mortified.

“Why are you laughing?”

You laugh some more before trying to catch your breath, and you take a step forward closer toward him as you speak through deep breaths, “I’m just so fucking relieved. I-fuck-I love you, Suguru.”

Suguru closes the space between you two, pulling you into his embrace, and you tuck your face into his shoulder, his cold, damp clothes doing wonders to soothe your now-burning cheeks.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

“I think we look stupid standing here soaking wet and hugging...”

“Wanna make ourselves look even stupider by standing here soaking wet and kissing?”

You pull away ever so slightly just to look at him, and he’s staring at you with a smirk, and the longer he waits, the more furious the blush on his cheeks gets, and you can't help but stall your answer even more just for that reason.

“…matter of fact, yes, I do.”

Suguru grins widely but wastes no time connecting your lips together. The kiss is better than you could have ever imagined; it's gentle yet passionate all at once, and it's sloppy because neither of you can fully stop smiling long enough to keep the kisses consistent. And It's everything. He's everything, and you're mad that it even took you this long to realize that in the first place, but at least you don't have to worry about that anymore. Now you just have to worry about the fact that you two will probably end up getting sick from your wet clothes, but that's a problem for after you two stop kissing—if you two ever stop kissing.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

722 notes · View notes

galexystern · 4 months

Text

easy - 18+

pairing; actor!steve harrington/fem!reader

warnings; smut (MDNI), angst, tooth-rotting & v cheesy fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), squirting, unprotected p in v, creampie, jealousy, kinda hurt/comfort, one use of y/n near the end

word count; ~4.3k

desc; while on a press tour for his latest movie, steve says something that sends you into a spiral. something that forces him prove his undying love for you when he gets home.

a/n; based off that interview of tom blyth and rachel zegler on the tbosas press tour. you know the one

read on ao3 / masterlist

You come upon it without trying. Dating an actor can be hard, watching them experience whole lifetimes and romances in a tight two-hour movie or eight-episode show, and your boyfriend Steve Harrington feels things deeper than others, you know. Thus why you never search the press Steve does for any project—you don’t need to hear it.

Of course, if something pops up on your feed, you’ll watch it. It’s impossible to swipe away from his lovely face; you’ve missed him so much as he’s worked on his latest movie, and any whiff of him is captivating. Which is how you see one specific interview he did with his co-star, Nancy Wheeler, the female love interest.

“Who wouldn’t love her? It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

As soon as you hear it, the words embed themselves. They echo within you all the time. You try to forget them, distract yourself, but it’s useless. You’d hoped they’d go away when Steve comes home, but they’re still there, bouncing around your brain like the world’s most annoying song. When he’s hugging you so tight you can barely breathe. When he’s smiling uncontrollably at being home. When he’s talking nonstop about his adventures on set.

“It’s so easy to fall in love with Nancy.”

You shake your head to get rid of the phrase, and take Steve into the dining room, where the table is ready with all his favorite foods. You’d prepared them in another attempt to quiet your mind, not that it had worked, but it makes him smile so it was worth it anyway. You sit him down and then slide into your seat across from him, watching as he dishes out onto his plate and digs in. You don’t touch it. You’re not hungry.

“And then, believe it or not, I slip on the goddamn banana peel. Can you believe that?” He laughs at his own bad luck. “They used that take for the final cut. Can’t wait for you to see it.” He’s been talking about taking you to the premiere since the date was set. The idea of being in front of reporters and cameras and the movie’s other stars is kind of nauseating.

That’s when you hear yourself blurting out, “Are you in love with Nancy?”

As soon as the words have left your lips you want to suck them back in. Your boyfriend’s eyes have widened astronomically and his hand is frozen, fork stuck halfway between the plate and his open mouth. Convenient, you think helplessly.

“Never mind,” you rush out before he can say anything, “forget it. I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks a couple times, seeming to come back into his body, and then carefully lays his fork down, bite of food unconsumed. He laughs awkwardly, and you cringe. Your fault for ruining the mood. “Can’t really forget that, can I?” He half-jokes before wiping his face with a napkin and then putting it on the table. His chair scoots back as he stands, and for a moment you’re terrified he’s going to walk out, insulted beyond belief that you would ask something so wild, but he just rounds the table to your side and sits in the seat next to you. He angles his body towards you, and maneuvers your chair to face him. You sit there like dead weight.

“Now, my love,” he starts gently, “what was your question?”

You don’t really want to repeat it, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything. “I asked if you were in love with Nancy,” you answer, almost inaudible.

He nods thoughtfully. “And why would you think that?”

He’s not being accusatory, but you still clam up, afraid of what could come next. You shrug instead.

“Angel, I’m not going to be mad at you. I promise.”

You meet his gaze, seeing love and sincerity shining brightly, and finally explain quietly, “I saw that interview you two had. Where you said that it was easy to fall in love with her.”

Steve exhales heavily. “I was afraid that might be it.” Your expression sharpens and he rushes to add, “I’m not in love with her. I was just worried this exact thing could happen after I said it.”

“Why’d you say it then?” You ask petulantly.

He runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I was thinking more in terms of my character instead of myself, truthfully. And I meant more in terms of her character too. Ryan would—and did—find it easy to fall in love with Sarah,” using their character names.

“But you said Nancy’s name.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m so sorry. You don’t usually look at my press so I wasn’t sure if you’d seen it, and I didn’t wanna bring it up and worry you. I know it sounds like an excuse, sweetheart, but I meant what I said. I’m not in love with Nancy.”

“Okay,” you reply, not fully convinced.

Steve can tell. “Baby, look at me, please?” You lift your head to meet his pleading stare. “I’m not in love with Nancy,” he says firmly, drilling it into you. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time, and I’m going to stay in love with you for a long time. Forever, if you’ll let me.”

Again, words fly out before you can stop them. “Please don’t tell me that’s a proposal.”

He’s caught by an unexpected laugh. “No, honey. When I propose to you, you’ll know it.” A thrill runs through you with the use of “when” and your lip quirks up. But it’s quick to pop back down, and Steve notices. He pats his thighs. “Come here, angel.”

It takes a few seconds, but you eventually drag yourself from your chair and into his lap, letting your legs dangle and wrapping your arms around his neck. He secures his own around your waist, not letting you fall or slide backwards. You’re close enough that he can nuzzle his nose against yours, and you huff a giggle at the movement. His lips curl into a smile on your cheek.

He moves so that your foreheads are resting together and he can gaze deep into your eyes. You can’t look away. “I love you, baby. Only you. And you can always come to me if you’re upset or unsure or whatever. Okay?” You nod hesitantly. “Do you need me to prove it? That you’re the one for me?” You go breathless when his hands dip down to your ass and press you more firmly against him, feeling his hardness and making your underwear go wet in response. You nod more quickly this time and he smirks.

“C’mere then,” he whispers and you waste no time meeting his lips with yours. He kisses you, slow and languorous, taking his sweet time swiping his tongue across the seam of your mouth and exploring inside when you eagerly open for him. It’s like a dance, how it weaves with yours. This isn’t a time for domination.

You slide your hands into his hair and tug at the strands, swallowing his resulting moan. He seems to know innately when you need air and pulls away, only to come back and run his mouth along your jaw sweetly.

“Such pretty noises,” he murmurs, referring to the little whimpers you let out when he nips lightly at your skin. “Music to my ears, baby.”

If that’s the case, then you can only think he has to be delighted at your whiny moan when he sucks a mark into the pulse point on your neck. Sure enough, he thrusts into you at the sound, hitting your clit perfectly and soaking you further. You want to keep the friction going so you continue the grinding, Steve’s hands fully clutching your hips now to help you along.

Unexpectedly, he stands, bringing you with him. You squeal and wrap your legs around his waist desperately, not really believing he would drop you but feeling a tad scared anyways. He chuckles as he walks the both of you out of the dining room and up the stairs, nudging the bedroom door open with your hips. It’s dark, but the moon is shining in through the open window, creating a soft glow that compliments your boyfriend’s skin and shadows that outline his firm jaw. He sets you down slowly, letting your feet drag down until they softly land on the floor, and once you’re standing securely, he slides his hands up your body until they’re cupping your cheeks.

“My beautiful girl,” he whispers, and you heat at the praise. He must be able to feel it, burning underneath your skin, but he doesn’t point it out.

He dips in and kisses you again, hands going to the hem of your shirt and pulling it up, up, up, over your head, interrupting the kiss for just a moment and then he’s back on you. His fingers explore the newly revealed skin, caressing it reverently, like you’re made of the most precious substance and might break if he presses too hard. Shivers fizzle wherever his touch goes—across your stomach, over your hips, up your back. He finds your bra strap and unhooks it, moving back a touch so he can pull it off along with his own shirt. He comes back immediately, and you gasp into his mouth as your breasts make contact with his chest hair, the wiry feeling of it rubbing against your nipples deliciously.

You break from his intoxicating mouth to whine his name. “Sh,” he soothes, “let me worship you. My angel from heaven.”

Your heart practically melts at the words and all thoughts of pouting disappear. You let Steve push you backwards and sit you on the edge of the bed. He stands above you, two fingers under your chin to angle your head up towards his. It’s almost impossible to look directly at him, the level of love and adoration in his expression blinding in its intensity.

“Love of my life. Can I taste you?” You nod dazedly at his question, unable to do anything else, unwilling to do anything else. “Lay back for me.”

Following orders, you do so, and he slips off your pants. His fingers stroke down your legs as they go, tugging off your socks as well. He kneels and you prop up on your elbows just in time to watch him bury his face between your legs, smelling you through your underwear. They’re already soaked, but he doesn’t seem to mind: he laps at the wet spot and moans. “Missed this so much, baby. Your taste, your smell. Couldn’t stop thinking about doing this the whole time I was gone.”

His fingers hook into the waistband and drag it down, infuriatingly slow, and you’re thinking of whining again when he licks a line up your slit. The intended whine comes out as a moan instead, spurring Steve on to press into you even deeper. You lose yourself in his ministrations, as he swirls his tongue across your folds and up to your clit. When he sucks it into his mouth, you collapse backwards, unable to hold yourself up any longer during this beautiful torture.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he says, hand drawing in and rubbing a finger against your entrance. “Let yourself feel it. Feel how much I missed you. How much I love you.”

Your eyes roll back when that finger breaches you, pushing inside and crooking upwards to catch that spot he always knows how to find. “Oh,” you breathe, “finally.”

His lips quirk up and you can tell he must be smirking. “Finally, huh?” You shake your head; he’d misunderstood. “What then, honey?”

“Couldn’t do it right myself,” you pant. “You do it—” your breath hitches as he brushes that spot again, “better.”

“Is that right?” As much as it irritates you, his smug tone is deserved.

“Yes…oh!” You exclaim. He’s inserted another finger, and now both are thrusting inside you, picking up their pace. Little noises fall from you as his tongue flicks your clit in time with his fingers, going deeper with each hit.

“Is my pretty baby going to cum for me?” Steve asks. It’s rhetorical—he can feel you clenching around him, can tell you’re right there on the edge. He knows your body like the back of his hand; he took his time memorizing everything that makes you tick and that knowledge is always tucked away for safekeeping in his head. He’s not in danger of forgetting any of it. So he knows you’re on the precipice. A few more seconds should do it. “Come on,” he urges. “Cum for me, my love. I’ve got you.”

As he suckles your clit, you explode, climax rushing through you like a drug and you float upon it. Your boyfriend works you through it, continuing to curl his fingers inside you to keep you going even higher. All until you’re whimpering from overstimulation—then you think he’s going to remove them. Instead, they increase in speed. You yelp as his mouth dives in again, tongue moving quickly.

“Steve!” You half-shout, eyes squeezing shut as the brilliant torment goes on.

“I know you’ve got another for me, princess,” he says in between licks. “Been wanting to make you squirt again. Got off to the memory of the last time you did every night I was away from you.”

“I can’t,” you cry. You grab his wrist but don’t move it, feeling the orgasm he wants hurtling towards you.

“You can, baby, I know it,” he coaxes. “Gimme another. Just one more and then you get my cock, okay?”

You throw your head back as liquid gushes from you, all over Steve’s face. “Oh, fuck!”

“That’s my girl.” He moves his hand away and sticks his tongue in, gathering up all your climax and swallowing it down, moaning at the taste he’d missed so much. When you’re squeaky clean, he stands above you, and you watch with hazy vision as he sucks his fingers into his mouth and groans in pleasure. “Always taste so good, princess.” You’re so fucked out already that you can’t even feel embarrassed. He wouldn’t want you to anyways.

You weakly lift your hands towards him and make grabby motions. He smiles and does as asked, leaning to hover over you and give you sweet kisses. You wrap your arms around his waist and tug him down, and he collapses on top of you in a huff. You hum contentedly and snuggle into him, making him chuckle fondly and lay on you like a weighted blanket.

“Missed you,” you mumble into his neck, “so much.”

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I said that stupid thing and got you all worried.”

“‘S okay. I know what you meant once you explained. You’ve always been almost a method actor.”

“Maybe, but full method acting is freaky and I’m good without.”

You giggle. “Me too.”

He shifts and you feel his cock on your leg, still hard and without relief. You subtly lift your thigh to rub it and he moans, dropping his head to your shoulder and biting lightly. “Aren’t I supposed to get that now?” You tease. “I gave you what you wanted.”

“And now you want in return?” His tone barely contains the smirk he’s definitely sporting. He lifts himself up to look at you and groans a little at your pleading pout.

“I’ll even wet it for you,” you add while batting your eyelashes. Truthfully, your mouth has been watering ever since he’d first mentioned it.

He kisses you deeply. “An enticing offer that I will take you up on next time, baby. I think I might die if I’m not inside you immediately.” You giggle again as he stands and shucks off his pants and boxers, the sound hitching when his large, red, throbbing cock slaps against his abdomen. He smirks at you unknowingly licking your lips when you spot the precum beading at the head. “Like what you see, angel?”

You nod, eyes still locked on his cock. “Gimme, please,” you whine.

“Anything for you, my love.” He climbs over you again and lines up. Your hips cant forward to urge him on, but his hands clamp down and pin them to the bed. “Gonna savor this,” he murmurs, rubbing his cock through your folds. Electricity bolts through you when it grazes your clit, teasing. His eyes are magnetized to where you’re about to be joined, awed at how beautiful you are for him.

Eventually, his cock notches into your entrance and you gasp lightly. That turns into a drawn-out moan as he takes his time sliding inside, one he matches as soon as he bottoms out. He’s so deep you think you can feel him in your stomach.

Then he’s gone, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, slow but hard, and your back arches. “So responsive,” he coos, and does it again and again, until he’s moving at a steady pace and driving you crazy. Taking advantage of the leisurely tempo, he ducks his head down and sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, making you grip the bed sheets with tight fists. He swirls his tongue around, biting gently every now and then to make you jolt against him.

Going so slow grows maddening. “Faster, please, baby. Need more of you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he vows. Soon, he’s moving so hard and fast that the sound of skin slapping fills the room, oddly erotic. You look at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to do anything but take it, be Steve’s little plaything. It feels so good you can barely stand it.

You’re admiring how your boyfriend looks in the soft moonlight, making his eyes shine in an otherworldly way, when he says reverently, “You’re so beautiful like this, sweetheart. Lookin’ like an angel sent just for me. Because you’re all mine, right?”

“Yes, Stevie, all yours,” you moan.

He growls at that, putting his hands on your thighs and pressing them to your chest, allowing him to go even deeper. You keen at the new angle, sound cutting off as he kisses you desperately, and you throw your arms around his neck. He pulls back, much too quickly in your opinion, but you forgive him because he does so to say, “And I’m all yours, baby. You’re the only one for me. Only you make me feel this good. You’re all I think about, all I wanna think about. There’ll never be anyone else, princess. I love you and only you.”

His words push you closer and closer to your release, even more intense than the first two. He knows, urging you on by snaking a hand between your bodies and rubbing quick circles on your clit. “That’s it, soak my cock. Wanna feel you again, honey.”

“Love you, love you, love you,” you say over and over as your orgasm comes upon you. You scream Steve’s name when you finally cum, climax like a cascade, nails dragging down his back like they just might draw blood.

“Yes, angel, I love you too, missed you so much, oh my god, you’re so tight, love you, love you.” He’s babbling, finally cumming too, spilling hot and heavy. When he pulls out, your combined liquid pools out of you, and he groans one last time at the sight. He scoops some up with a finger to taste, eyes closing in delight. He opens them to look at you mischievously. “Wanna try?”

It should sound gross but it’s not. You nod and he repeats his motion. You suck his finger, pleasantly surprised by the enjoyable flavor. But it’s the essence of you and Steve–why wouldn’t it be good?

You must’ve fallen asleep after that, because the next thing you know Steve is wiping you with a warm washcloth, being as gentle as possible. You hum as he pulls the covers over you, but whine when you hear him step away. “It’s okay, angel,” he says softly, “I’ll just be a minute.” You listen to the dresser drawer opening and closing, and then Steve padding out of the room. You doze until you hear him come back and close the door. At long last, he slides into bed and gathers you in his arms. You curl around him like moss on an old building, and he buries his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper, half-asleep.

“You don’t have to thank me, baby,” Steve replies. “It’s my job to show you how much you mean to me. I love you so much, you know that? It’s the easiest thing to do, loving you.”

“Mm, I love you too.”

“I’m yours for good, angel. And you’re the only one for me. Promise.”

;

“It’s gonna be bright out there, angel, but just keep holding onto me, okay? I’ll get you there in one piece. All you have to do is show off that pretty smile. Sound good?” You nod at your boyfriend, smiling shyly. Steve grins. “There she is. Now, kiss for good luck?” You give him a kiss and then he’s out of the limo. Less than a minute later, he’s ducking back in the open door and holding out a hand for you. You take a deep breath, grab it, and slide out into the flashing lights.

A wall of sound hits you, and you try not to cringe against Steve. So many voices layer over each other, you don’t know what anyone is saying. But you just remember what Steve said and think of him on the night he came home and a smile forms on your face at the memory.

Steve helps you walk carefully down the red carpet, stopping you here and there to pose for the cameras. He wraps an arm around your waist to keep you stable and so you can focus on looking natural. “Doing so good, baby,” he murmurs in your ear at one point, kissing your temple. You close your eyes when he does, hoping one of the photographers got a shot of it. You think you’d like to frame that.

Eventually you reach the end of the carpet, and Steve’s agent ushers you two into the building. It’s a whirlwind in here too, but more manageable, loud but controlled. Your boyfriend turns to you. “You okay?”

You sigh happily at the love and concern in his eyes. “I’m good,” you promise, and he smiles.

Someone shouts his name, and you both turn. None other than Nancy Wheeler is rushing towards you, a tall and lanky man being dragged behind. Steve automatically steps closer and holds your waist again, nodding back at his costar but only thinking about how you might feel. Your heart warms at his attention, and you meet Nancy with a genuine smile.

She stops and grabs your hands. “Oh my gosh, you must be Y/N! I’ve heard so much about you, Steve mentioned you every chance he got. I’m so excited to meet you!”

“I’m excited to meet you too,” you reply.

“This is Jonathan, my boyfriend.” She motions to the boy beside her, who smiles awkwardly and holds out a hand. You shake it, as does Steve.

“Heard a lot about you too, man,” he says to Jonathan, making you feel even better.

“Are you excited for the movie?” Nancy asks, just to you. She’s barely even looked at Steve.

You nod. “Steve says it’s one of his favorites that he’s made.”

“Mine too! It’s such a sweet story. It’ll have you bawling by the end. I hope you brought tissues.”

You peer up at Steve, who had not told you that you were in for a crying fest. He laughs. “Don’t worry, angel. I got some.” He pats his jacket pocket.

Nancy’s eyes are glittering when you look back at her. “We gotta find our seats, but let’s talk at the after party. I have to put a face to all the stories Steve’s told!”

You agree and watch as she and Jonathan walk away into the crowd. You turn to Steve and he draws you close. “Are you sure you don’t wanna just go home and skip this whole thing?” He whines quietly.

You smirk. He’s been asking a variation of the same question ever since you stepped out of the bathroom in this dress—which accentuates your chest and ass “magnificently,” as Steve put it. He’d even tried starting something in the limo, but all that had accomplished was leaving him high and dry after you’d made him keep his hands to himself.

“You wanted me to see the movie,” you counter now.

“Yeah, but we could stream it later. It’s not like I’ll win an Oscar for it or anything.”

You roll your eyes. “You might! It’s prime awards season, babe. And you’ve been getting a lot of acclaim for this role. And you know the academies love a tear-jerker.” He blushes at your argument. “Plus,” you whip out the doe eyes, “I wanna see you on the big screen.”

He sighs in fake annoyance, a fond smile giving it away. “I did say your wish is my command, didn’t I?”

“Yup.” You smile triumphantly.

Steve grins back before kissing you soundly. “I love you, angel.”

“Love you too, Stevie.”

He gives you one last peck, and then grabs your hand and leads you into the theater.

#happy new year!!!#steve harrington x reader #mine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #steve harrington x you

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catboybiologist · 6 months

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could you explain why/if we can't just copy the genes of one animal and splice them into another animal, for example why we couldn't give humans cat ears?

There's no one easy way to answer this, but the basic answer is that it's not that simple. There's no one gene, or even easily reducible set of genes, that just is "make cat ears". Not only is there a network of genes activated within a cell, there are a myriad of signals from nearby cells (the "microenvironment") as well as cues from the rest of the body and environment.

So each one of the cells making your ear isn't just encoded to be a cell that makes your ear. In fact, most of them don't have any "ear" genetic characteristics or activation. They're generic cartilage or skin cells that were told to grow more or less by neighboring cells or distant cells during carefully coordinated times during growth and development. Each cell interprets this signal in different ways, and also receives multiple signals at a time, the combination of which can produce unique results.

The easiest to interpret example of this is finger development. During development, when your hand is still a fingerless paddle, a single cell on the pinky side of your hand (or thumb side, it could be reversed) releases a signalling molecules to nearby cells. A cell receiving the highest dose will start to become a pinky, and send a signal for the cells immediately around it to aide in that. The next cell that isn't aiding that, but still receives the initial signal, receives a lower concentration of that signal since it's further away. That lower concentration signals a ring finger, and it repeats until you get thumbs at the lowest concentrations.

That's the most visible example, but it's similar to what happens all over the body- signals that are dependent on the structure and genetics of the microenvironment, not just the genetics of the developing cells alone.

This careful network of timing, signals, gene activations, and spatial placement of cells is the core of the field of Developmental Biology (which, technically, my PhD is in as well bc it's often wrapped in with molecular bio lol).

So making cat ears on a human genetically would essentially require not only genetic manipulation, but also babysitting the fetus the entire time and adding in localized signals to the microenvironment of the developing ear cells, which is essentially impossible. There's too much "human" flying around to realistically get that result, and an attempt at doing so would essentially be akin to molecular sculpting. That's why *my* preferred approach would be epithelial stem cell manipulation/printing and subsequent grafting, but that's an entirely different thing.

If you're interested in this kind of thing, the most approachable and engaging summary of developmental biology is the book "Your Inner Fish", by Neil Shubin, the discoverer of Tiktaalik. He summarizes a lot of dev biology through the lens of evolutionary biology, which is a great way to see how differences in structures have arisen and differentiate across the tree of life.

If you want a shorter introduction, and like cute but kinda "cringey in the way you love" science parodies: the song evo-devo by a capella science is really fun and gets stuck in my head a lot:

youtube

But yeah, hope that answered your question!

#biology #developmental biology #catboy #catgirl #nyanbinary #if this combination of tags doesnt describe my entire persona idk what does

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kipupupu · 1 year

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COD boys and their music tastes

König

Metalhead vibes but I don’t think he actually listens to super heavy stuff, at least not all the time, he seems more like a Bad Omens kinda guy

I can picture him listening to Gothic metal

If he’s completely alone, he’ll sing along to Sleep Token

BUT 100% had a dsbm (depressive suicidal black metal) phase. Loves telling people he’s become comfortable around about Mayhem, just to see their reaction.

Number 1 Eurovision fan. You can’t convince me otherwise. SUch a hyperfixation, he will infodump about the past winners, his opinion on who should’ve won, etc. (He has Cha Cha Cha on repeat 24/7)

Has at least one Babymetal song in his liked playlist

^speaking of, he’d hate for anyone to see his liked songs

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Probably just listens to noise

Would enjoy some nice ballads, really

When his mind is feeling clear and things are pretty calm, he’ll indulge in some Edith Piaf

Johnny once made him listen to Corpse because “you look like you’d like it”

Pretended not to like it, but really likes agoraphobic

Does Ghost listen to Ghost? He doesn’t mind it, particularly like Respite on the Spitalfields

Lorna Shore?

John “Soap” Mctavish

Not afraid to be goofy and probably plays into the fact that he listens to really pop-y stuff

But on his own time, I can see him listening to the heaviest shit ever like Cannibal Corpse and Slaughter To Prevail, maybe (i hope those are heavy enough)

The type of person to actually listen to anything and everything, though. Like, he can go from grindcore, to folk, to pop

Has California Girls memorised.

The best person to go to karaoke with. Knows every single song, even the ones that aren’t in english (Cha Cha Cha)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

what do roadmen listen to? 😭 (I'm sorry)

I can see him listening to classical stuff

spends hours watching cats fall asleep to classical music

but also he had Drank & Drugs stuck in his head for 2 weeks

listens to Tchaikovsky in front of Price to seem more "mature"

and then listens to the roadman playlist featuring songs like "Woi" (i don't know anything about this)

alsO listens to the most white suburban mum shit ever, like regularly belts along to Adele in the shower and secretly listens to Pink

Hatari.

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yunqitv · 1 month

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— focus "omega x yechan x male reader"

♡ pairing : shin yechan x male reader

♡ genre : fluff, drabble

♡ warning : short and sweet

╰┈➤ AUTHOR'S NOTE : so, I just finished "a shoulder to cry on" and before that I had never gotten into omega x. I knew and had the two songs 'omega x' and 'vamos' on repeat for a good amount of times a bit ago, but never actually made the effort of getting to know the group. but now, oh hunny, i'm stuck on them. watching the bl, both members caught my eye. and as I continue my path to becoming a possible bl writer, the moment I finished watch I wrote this just to kinda clear my head.

feel free to request omega x in my inbox while I get to know them a little bit more

It's always been weird the way Yechan look at M/n. At first it was short glares, quick glances, but now it's like the boy has no shame in just getting all up on the younger's face.

"You know you look so good when you're focused~" Yechan sung, nudging M/n's shoulder, causing the younger's handwriting to look a mess. This stupid presentation required a lot of research and was very time consuming, but it seemed like time was just a joke when Yechan couldn't sit still and keep interrupting.

"Hey, Yechan. If you're not gonna help out, then you need to stop bothering me and let me finish." M/n spat, scooting his chair and desk away from Yechan.

Yechan whined pulling on M/n's chair, "Why so serious? You know I love and appreciate you so much." Yechan leaned into M/n's face, attacking his cheeks with pecks and nibbles.

"Hey! W-What is wrong with you!" M/n broke from Yechan's grasp and stood up. "If you can't focus, I'm going to the library. You're embarrassing!" He spat, flustered as he grabbed all his stationary and bookbag and hurriedly rushed out the classroom .

Yechan giggled. Teasing M/n was so easy and fun. But he wondered if one day he would accept Yechan's advances and let him shower him in unconditional love.

#omega x #kpop x male reader #shin yechan #kpop bg #kpop boys #kpop x reader #yunqitv #a shoulder to cry on

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madaboutmunson · 8 months

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Wishin' And Hopin'

Telepathy (Prompt A2 ) Summary: In which Eddie realises he might have some residual power from The Upside-Down and plans to use it in the best way he knows how, to impress the guy he's had a crush on for months

Word Count: 2740 @eddiemunsonbingo

AO3 Link ******************************************************************

Healing from the aftermath of The Upside-Down was a struggle. There was no denying that, but two very awesome things happened due to that epic shit fest.

Larvae and Germs of the jury I present to you:

Exhibit A: Getting to spend a lot of alone time with one disgustingly handsome Steve Harrington, who basically looked after me like he was my sexy nurse.

Exhibit B: Some juvenile stage telepathy.

We’ll get back to that fine specimen of Exhibit A later.

Let us first deal with Exhibit B.

So, at first, it was just kinda weird. I was half-watching Wheel of Fortune with Wayne while brainstorming some campaign ideas, and I could hear him repeatedly shouting a word of the answer. Honestly, I love him, but repetition in the same monotonous tone was getting right on my last nerve, like a smoke alarm that needs new batteries. Except no beep, just “World” over and fucking over.

So, I, well, okay, not my finest moment, but I might have lost my cool and said a little loudly, “IT’S ON TOP OF THE WORLD!!”

He clutched his pearls and recoiled into his corner of the sofa, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed and had the cheek to say, “Jesus Christ, Eddie. Ya nearly sent me straight to the pearly gates!”

“I was helping you with the answer you were evidently struggling with!”

“Eddie, there ain’t a single song that left the beauty of Karen Carpenter’s mouth that I don’t know. Just ‘cus I don’t blurt out the answer to ruin it for the whole trailer park!” “Ok! Alright! So I can’t say the full answer, but you can keep repeating one word of the answer repeatedly. Like that wasn’t going to annoy the fuck out of me. You’re deliberately bein’ an antagonistic asshole, Wayne!”

Then he just looked at me. Like how he looks at those Canadian geese when they get too close to him at the park, “Eddie, I didn't say a word.”

Now I rolled my eyes and gave it the whole raspberry award at his performance, which did almost have me going, by the way, but the way he just continued to stare at me and look me over like I’d just fallen out of the sky. I knew he wasn’t lyin’. That’s when I started to get scared. I thought I’d slipped into one of those Vecna vision things.

“What did you hear, Ed?”

“You were sayin’ ‘World’ over and over.”

“I was saying the answer, but not out loud, Ed. Just in my mind.”

“Ok, well, that’s ridiculous. How could I possibly hear what's going on in your mind?”

“Fuck if I know. What am I thinking now?”

“Are you serious right now? I’m on the edge of sanity here, and you are making out like I’m Luke Skywalker or some shit? That's it. I’m going to bed! You know Steve doesn't pull this shit when it’s his turn babysitting me!”

I grabbed my crutch and started hobbling over to my room, and he started up again, this time with ‘Discombobulated.’

I turn round, and he’s wide-eyed, staring at me, gulping down his beer. I was just about to give him a piece of my mind when he pulled the beer from his lips with a gasp and said, “Now, if I was drinkin’, there ain’t no way I coulda said that word. For the record, I can’t for the life o’ me say that word out loud anyways. But I can think it.”

“Fine, let's play your silly game, old timer. Do it again. This time with me watchin’ your lyin’ ass!”

He knocked back his beer again, and I was ready for his lame-ass ventriloquism when I heard him clear as a bell “Bill”. I hobble over to check he’s not talking out of the side of his mouth or some shit, but he wasn’t

“Bill?”

“Yeah! It's a miracle, Eddie! You can read minds!”

“OK, don’t alert the Pope just yet. It might be some creepy shit left over from that messed up place we were stuck in.”

“We should practice!” He said as he frantically pulled me back to the sofa.

“Who the hell is Bill, by the way?”

“It's not a he. It's a what. I was saying, ‘Remember to pay the telephone bill.’ “

So we tried all different things for a few hours every day for the next few nights when he wasn't at work, but all I could ever get was one word, which had to be quite an intense thought. Fleeting ones just didn't hit my radar. So I guess if my telepathy was a developing human, it would be in the butt shuffling to the almost crawling stage.

I tried it around town, and boy, do the people of Hawkins have a lot of fucking issues! Ha! The ones that look like a curse word would knock them dead are the worst of the lot!

So, the moment you’ve all been waiting for back to Exhibit A!

So naturally, when my rugged Florence Nightingale came a-callin’, I had to try it out. I am only human. Who wouldn’t wanna know what is going on in that pretty lil’ head of his underneath that voluminous mane?

So, I started with something small. I put on a scary movie. He jump-scares pretty easily for a guy who’s fought freakish things from other dimensions in melee range. When one of the characters went to the basement instead of out the door, I could hear a faint ‘always’.

“God, they always do that, don’t they? It’s so dumb, right?”

He turned to me with that ediblely cute half-smile and said, “Weird, I was just thinking that!”

“Great minds think alike, I guess? But we are kinda both watching the same thing.”

His puppy dog eyes flick up to the ceiling because, apparently, that is where all the answers are for Steve. His thinking face, urgh, stunning! Don’t get me started! He gave a shrug, nodded and went back to watching the movie.

After a while, I got a much louder word, ‘Pizza.’

I can’t make it too obvious, so I try to get up and head to the kitchen, and he’s on it like butter on a biscuit, “You hungry? Sorry, Eddie, I should have made something before the movie. I won’t be long.” Then I got “Eat,” so I knew I was on the right track.

“Hey, uh, save you cookin’. Why don’t we order a pizza?”

“Pizza? I mean, yeah, I could go for it, but I thought you said last week you didn't wanna eat anything you couldn’t see prepared, in case the government put trackers in it?”

He was right; I did say that and meant it. But who in their right mind would deprive this stud muffin of his cheesy treat, huh? Not me, that's for sure, because I know what happens when Steve gets happy.

He smiles big, and his honey-flecked eyes cast down and back up, “Thanks, Ed. I’ve been thinking about one all week, but it's a waste on my own.”

“We lucky for you, Steve, you have the gift of my presence this evening, so you don’t have to worry about that, and if we don't finish any, I know Wayne will snaffle it when he gets back.”

Then he let out one of those sweet little laughs he does, and I had to wait for him to turn his back to me so I could clench my fists and wrinkle up my nose in some weird kinda cuteness aggression.

Then I heard ‘Hot.’

So when he asked me what kind I wanted, I said, “I dunno, I’m feeling like a little spice could really hit the spot tonight.”

That earned me a hip pop and a finger gun, wink combo before he turned back around to order, twirling the cable around his finger, and I got a picture-perfect view of that ass for a minute or so.

Then, until the pizza turned up and the entire time we ate it, the word didn't change. ‘Hot’, that's all he’s thinking about.

I figured it might be too spicy for him, so I grabbed two yoohoos from the fridge and set one in front of him without asking this time.

“Oh, thanks, but I’m good Ed. I still got some beer left over.”

I thought maybe he didn't wanna show that the spice was getting to him, but I left the drink there all the same.

The pizza is long transferred to the kitchen, and we were well into Steve’s movie of choice at this point, Ghostbusters. I can’t get much of anything for a while, but he seems fully absorbed in the film, laughing along and quoting some of the lines. I loved that movie, but I’d have given my other nipple to have Steve be my personal reenactor of the film for the rest of my days.

I got up to take a leak, and I could hear ‘Hot’ again. So, on my way out of the bathroom, I collect a table fan, put it on the coffee table, and switch it on. The room didn't feel that warm to me, but I knew Steve ran like a furnace. You only had to be within a few inches of him to luxuriate in that fucking man-heat of his.

Look, I know that's weird ok, but as someone who runs fucking cold, I’m into it, alright? So just keep your opinions to yourself.

My prize for cooling down my summery prince? A fucking confused frown! He took the remote and paused the movie, “Do you want me to get you some shorts or something rather than the fan? They tend to be a little quieter and less expensive to run.” He made a joke, and I laughed embarrassingly hard at it.

“You don’t feel warm in here?”

“No, man. Are you ok? You feeling ill?” Then his hands are on me. Well, okay, he was just checking how warm my forehead was, and my pulse, but facts are facts.

“No, I’m good, man. So good. I just thought you looked warm.” Then he blushes. It was as if someone had crushed red roses onto his cheeks. His pretty little pout dropped open, and for the first time in a long time, he actually looked awkward. I would have consoled him immediately, but I got distracted because he ran his hand through the side of his hair, and I wouldn’t miss a beat of that move, not even if my knees were on fire.

“Well, I’m not. I-I can explain that. I, um…yeah…I kinda tried some of Robin’s moisturiser on my skin because she said it made it look good, and it's probably just making me look shiny. I’ll just…yeah…I’m just gonna go wash my face.”

Then I got a new word, ‘Fuck’

And I still can’t tell you what possessed me to do so, but when he got up to leave, I grabbed his arm, “Don’t do that, man, you look great. It's, uh, not shiny at all. Your skin is as perfect as it always looks. I just read you wrong, that's all.”

Then he’s staring at my hand, and that word comes back again ‘Hot.’

And then, okay, maybe because I’m touching him properly for the first time, not a nudge in the ribs or the brush of the back of my hand. Usually, he’s the one touching me for medical purposes, obviously, but I’m not a moron. I’ll fucking take that as a win. Thank you very much.

Or maybe it's the way he looked right in my eyes. I don't know, but I caved. I spilt my guts. The quality control between my brain and mouth had gone out to lunch.

“Then why do you keep thinking ‘hot’?”

His eyebrows nearly shot off his face, “What?”

“You! You keep thinking the word ‘hot’. I can kinda read thoughts, well, just words. Well, just word, actually.”

“You-you…What? You can read my thoughts?”

“No, it's not as advanced as that.” Then, I explained everything that me and Wayne had been practising.

“Shit, do I need to call everyone? Is it upside-down stuff?”

“I dunno, maybe, but I don’t feel unwell, and nothing else weird has happened. Wayne is still okay, and we’ve been trialling it for a while now.” That seemed to take him out of panic mode and into something more relaxed.

“Huh. So you can hear a word but don’t have the context, right.” Then he stops, squints, and tilts his head with a big smile, “That's why you ordered the Pizza. That's why you picked a spicy one, the drinks and the fan! Ok, ok, that makes sense now.”

“Yeah, sorry for not telling you. I just wanted to try it out, and maybe that was desperately underhanded of me, and I shouldn't have, but…”

“You wanted to impress me?” He raised his eyebrow at me, and honestly, the sofa could have consumed me whole, and I wouldn’t have noticed because then I was stalled, and the engine wouldn’t turn, “Eddie?”

“You just do so much for me, and most of the time, you guess what I want or need without any help, and I thought, maybe I could give that back to you, you know? I thought it would be cool.”

He could have killed me with the next smirk and head shake he gave me before shutting off the fan, settling back in his seat, and unpausing the movie. I felt like I’d gotten away with it and shuffled back, too.

A few minutes later, I heard ‘You.’

When I glanced at him, he was frowning hard at the TV screen. The word silenced as he turned to me with a beaming smile, “If you get it, tap my arm.”

“OK, sure. That could be fun.”

‘Are’ Tap.

‘So’ Tap

“Stupid?” I had blurted out at the same time as that word of the night came crashing back into my head

‘Hot’ ………….tap

Steve’s face fell, and he scrambled to get up, “Sorry Eddie. Shit. I just thought. You know what. I don't know what I thought, ok. I’m-yeah. Fuck! I’m just gonna go.”

I rushed to scramble after him, but I couldn’t seem to get my usual motormouth going because my whole brain was mush due to a demi-god calling me, ME, hot! Fucking hell, fellow perverts, I tell you this. If, at that point, I had been an able-bodied man and hadn't been on a one-way journey to the floor. Steve Harrington would have been out that door, and I probably would never have seen him again. But I’m not, and he’s a fucking superhero, so naturally, he just caught me in his stupidly perfect sculpted arms that were trying desperately to break free from that uptight polo shirt he loves to wear.

“I-I-I-I thought you were gonna say stupid. I mean, think. I mean….you know what I mean. What I mean is I didn't mean what you said was stupid!

He just blinked at me as he set me to my feet, still holding me upright, looking over me, checking I was okay.

Then, instead of letting me go, he stared right into my eyes, and how I didn't end up back on the floor again, I don't know. I can only imagine it was because his goddamn thick, taught, tanned thighs were enough support for both of us.

‘Kiss,’ I heard and stood there like a gormless idiot.

‘Kiss’, and until that point, all the words I’d heard had been just a flat tone, but this one shouted in my head. So I put on my big boy pants and tapped his arm, even though my mouth felt like the desert.

“Now?” I croaked out, and he nodded in response.

So, I did what any red-blooded human would have done in my situation. I attempted to climb that man like a tree, failed, then with his assistance tried again and succeeded, and gave him the kiss I’d been storing up for months.

Now, now be good, fair readers. Avert your fucking eyes. The rest of that evening is all mine. Let’s just say he liked that kiss.

A lot.

He was very appreciative.

Many times.

So much, in fact, he’s still walking around our house mentally shouting for them five years later.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddiemunson #eddie stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #fanfiction #steve harrington #steddie #steddie ficlet #madaboutmunson

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mono-moonchilds · 2 years

Text

LOVE ME │JJK

⤑ series: smutty song series (smutty little scenarios based around smutty songs)

⤑ pairing: idol!jungkook x femblack!reader

⤑ genre: smut!!

⤑ rating: explicit (18+)

⤑ word count: 1.7K

⤑ summary: Girl, I fuck who I want and fuck who I don’t. Got that A1 credit and that fillet mignon. She said, “I never wanna make you mad I just wanna make you proud.” I said, “Baby just make me cum, Then don’t make a sound.”

⤑ warnings: mean!junkook, shy/innocent!y/n, OC kinda dumb highkey lowkey, riding, creampie, jungkook is manipulative, player!jk, overstimulation, post nut clarity, producerdaugther!y/n

⤑ Song: Love Me ft. Drake, Future

⤑ A/N: I feel like every time I write jk on the blog he is an asshole lmao. IDK why I just love writing asshole/mean jk, it's actually a problem. hope you guys enjoy it! and that it matches the song well enough. i was writing one thing and then it turned into something else. oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm not gonna think too much about it just glad to be back writing on this account

“Don’t even think about it.”

Was the first thing Namjoon said to Jungkook as they walked out of the room. He didn’t ask what he thought about the opportunity, didn’t even ask if he was excited. With a serious glare, he just turned to him and lowly told him, making sure to repeat it a second time just for good measure.

“Don’t think about what?” Jungkook questioned playing dumb. He knew precisely what Namjoon meant. Jungkook had known what the older was gonna say to him from the moment you’d introduced yourself.

“I’m Y/n,” You spoke softly, your hand stuck out for each of them to shake. You kept your head down, fidgeting nervously with your jacket.

“This is my daughter.”

From the way the man smiled brightly as he looked over at you it didn’t take much for anyone to come to the conclusion you were the man's pride and joy. From the expensive things you wore to the pricey handbag clutched tightly in your hand it was quite obvious you were a daddy’s girl. You kept close to your father's side, barely even sparing a glance up and when you did, you were quick to put your eyes back to the floor.

You were shy. Jungkook couldn’t help but smile to himself.

Cute.

“Jungkook,” Namjoon groaned. “This is a big deal. He’s a big deal. He came all the way from America just to help us with producing this next album. Don’t fuck this up because you can’t keep your dick in your pants. No amount of sorry’s will fix it this time if you do.”

“I’m joking. The girl’s off limits. I promise.”

And Jungkook had intended to keep that promise. He really did. He didn’t want to piss off Namjoon or potentially ruin an opportunity for the rest of his bandmates but saying no was always a task that was much easier said than done.

You always looked so lonely, preferring to keep to yourself and stay by your father's side. You never really spoke unless spoken to. Jungkook could count on one hand the number of times he actually heard you talk. After a while, his perverted interest in you died down and a more innocent one came to play. It was obvious you needed a friend and Jungkook was going to be that for you.

A friend. Was what Jungkook told himself and at the time he had truly meant it. When he first started asking you to hang out with him it was with the purest of intentions. Hell, he rarely would even hit on you when the two of you went places. Of course, he didn’t never hit on you because he was still him but it wasn’t with the goal of fucking you it was just because Jungkook was a flirt and couldn’t help it.

So how the two of you ended up like this was beyond him.

Him seated on his sofa while you sat on his lap working his cock with everything you had in you. Your neon pink nails dug into his skin as soft whimpers left your plump lips.

“Suh-so…so big.” You deliriously whispered. With his head leaned back against the couch Jungkook watched you with low eyes, a smirk resting on his lips. You were so pathetic it was cute. Your body shaking like a leaf as you grinded down on his cock. At this point, he’d lost count of how many times you’d come, and by the way your eyes went crossed every few seconds he was sure you had too.

“No..no,” You shook your head pushing his hand away. “I got it.”

“You’re doing so good, baby.” Jungkook encouraged not missing the lazy smile that spread across your face. “Lift up your shirt for me,” Jungkook ordered. “Play with your tits.”

Following his directions, you did as you were told squeezing and rolling each of the brown pebbles between your fingers. “Fuck…” Jungkook panted softly.

“Mmm…am I-am I…doing good right Kookie?” You questioned softly. Jungkook nodded his head rolling his hips up into yours pushing his cock deeper into your wet cunt.

“Please don’t ever be mad at me again.” You whimpered. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you looked at him with those big glossed-over eyes. “Don’t ever want to make you mad. Just want to make you happy. Be your guh-good girl.”

Your voice hitched at the last word, thighs shaking, as another orgasm ripped through your body. Your body fell forward convulsing against his chest, a loud moan falling from your lips. The way you looked was pornographic. Skirt bunched up against your hips with the signature dark eyeliner you always had on smudged down your face.

“Just want to make you happy.” You repeated with a cry. “Want you to be proud.”

“Shush, shush.” Jungkook hushed. “Make me come. You don’t want to be selfish do you?”

You shook your head. “Shit…” You swore beginning to move your hips again. “So much.”

“That’s right. You're doing good.” Jungkook encouraged. You shook your head again, another loud whine falling from your mouth.

“Can’t…too much.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes in fake annoyance. He could take over any moment easily flip you over and fuck you into the couch for as long as he wanted but he didn’t want that and that wasn’t what you’d promised.

“Jungkook please,” You begged, following him around his apartment like a lost puppy. “It’s been two weeks. I said I was sorry. Stop being mad at me.”

In all honesty, Jungkook had no reason to be mad and he knew that. The two of you were just friends and he’d never really shown any interest in being anything more than that. Of course, he did but he was trying to follow the rules. The stupid rules that Namjoon had put in place that apparently only applied to him.

“It’s just…Taehyung? You want to be with him.” Taehyung was just as bad as him. He fucked anything with a pretty face.

“No-I just…” You shrugged. “He’s been nice to me and we’ve been talking.”

“He’s been nice to you?” Jungkook repeated in disbelief. “Are you fucking stupid Y/n? He’s nice to you so send him your nudes? The whole company has been nothing but nice to you does that mean you’re going to fuck them too? Wish I would’ve known how much of a slut you were.”

That last part was too much and as soon as he said it Jungkook regretted the words coming out of his mouth. He expected you to go off on him and finally react properly in the way you should have all along. But instead, your head just dropped in shame.

“Shit Y/n…I’m sorry. I should’ve never-”

“I’ll make it up to you.” You cut him off.

“How?”

“I’ll show you how good I am. I can show you that I won’t ever do it again.”

“Okay…” Jungkook’s voice trailed off. “But how?”

“Whatever you want. Just want you to forgive me Kookie.”

It was sick how quickly the idea popped up in his head. A sly smile filled his features as his eyes looked your figure up and down.

“I’ve been nothing but nice to you too. I’m the one who started making sure you had someone to hang out with but Taehyung is the only one who gets rewarded?”

For once the light bulb clicked in your head almost immediately. Your face grew flustered as you fidgeted around nervously. He almost expected you to say no but then your hands went up to your shirt slowly beginning to pop open the buttons. Within seconds your lacy white bra was on display.

“Didn’t think you liked me that way.” You said a shy smile filling your face.

Despite being the one who initiated everything Jungkook couldn’t even make the first move. Too much in shock that it was actually happening he just stood there. He could hear Namjoon’s voice telling him not to do it but once your body was pushed up against his he quickly ignored it.

“I want to make it up to you. I want to be good for you.” Jungkook mocked you with a whiney voice. “You can’t even do that right.”

“No, I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I can do it I promise.”

With newfound energy, you slammed your hips down onto his cock. Your tiny pussy clenched tightly around his cock as you worked yourself through the overstimulation. Jungkook didn’t think you could get any louder, but you did, loudly moaning and repeating how sorry you were begging him to forgive you and promising that you wouldn’t talk to Taehyung again.

“I’m yours only yours.” You cried out.

“Shit..shit.” Jungkook groaned. At your words, he could feel the tightness in his balls swelling up. “Say it again.” He demanded.

“I’m yours Jungkook. I’m always going to be yours.”

With that Jungkook came with a loud moan. This time it's his body that's shaking as the pleasure wracks through his bones as his brain goes black. By the time he comes too your body is laying slack against the couch. His lower stomach was soaked wet, something he would’ve just attributed to sweat until he saw an equally as big wet spot on the front bottom of your pleated skirt.

“Shit,” Jungkook swore to himself. He hated that he missed that.

A smile filled your tired face as you looked at him. Jungkook knows he should’ve felt the exact opposite as he looked at you right now but he couldn’t help the feeling of regret that began to settle deeply into his chest. Whenever you looked at him your eyes were always full of stars. Usually, it made him feel good, made him feel like he was important, but this time it only reminded him of what Namjoon had told him not to do.

If it was any other girl Jungkook wouldn’t have cared. He got what he wanted and that was all that mattered. But this was you and your dad was your dad.

Clueless you reached over grabbing his hand and pressing your lips to his knuckles. “Think I love you.” You giggle tiredly.

#bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungguk #jungkook smut #bts x poc #bts x black reader #bts fan fiction #jungkook x reader #jungkook x black reader #btshoneyhive

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