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riaki · 7 months

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thrifted romance | megumi fushiguro x reader

synopsis: you’ve never really spoken with megumi before, so when your friends leave the two of you behind on a snowy night, you take the opportunity to get to know him.

wc: 6.2k... SO SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY cw: swearing, college au, noncurse au, i don’t thjnk there’s anything else ??

this got way longer than i intended it to be and i rushed to grind it out so it may not be coherent.. if so i apologize :’3 and this one’s late but i hope the content makes up for it ! enjoy meemow barely proofread!

it's a late winter evening when you meet up with megumi and your friends on the side of the street— cozied up in puffy layers and a long blazer stained with coffee splashes and a few hot chocolate smudges here and there.

fall had melted away with the slow gradient of leaves from the trees, sinking into fluffy piles on the sidewalk that soon became coated and replaced with light snowfall; the first of many problematic inches. midterms were just around the corner, and with it meant late hours spent pulling all-nighters that left you exhausted, eyes dark around the edges with a lack of sleep; breaths of minty hot chocolate and coffee from the amalgamation you'd concocted to at least pretend to get into the holiday spirit.

(a fruitless effort, though— if not for your failure that warned you to stay out of mixology, but the way your roommate's cat had knocked over your mug and ruined the flashcards you'd been wrestling with and looked completely smug with itself.)

really, though, there was absolutely nothing jolly about school, or exams. so when your favorite inefficient, sidetracking study buddy had offered to spend the weekend out, who were you to say no? nobara had offered to go find a club, but it was far too cold out to frolic around in skimpy clothing and your expensive winter coats were much too valuable to risk being stolen in the haze of drunken students and sweaty bodies. so, you'd decided to go shopping, because what else is there to do with her? besides the usual karaoke session with the upperclassmen she seems to like so much, of course.

turns out, it'd had been a group endeavor. or, more accurately— a group of four, unlike the duo you had previously thought you'd be going out in. yuji and megumi were there too— friends from separate majors; you'd heard that yuji was involved in the uprising surge of software engineers and computer science majors clambering for a shot in the world of big AI tech companies, even though he supposedly was about as computer-smart as your teetering old grandma ripe with age, permanently stuck in her rocking chair crocheting the days away.

megumi, on the other hand, was a mystery. you'd shared a few classes together; his chipped dark nails that shone the same blue as his esoteric eyes beneath the warmth of the glowing sun, and his inky black hair that spilled over the collars of his simple gray sweatshirts like effortlessly graceful calligraphy on paper had captured your attention as smooth and seamless as the daylight turned to darkness, days cut short by the onslaught of cold. even so, you'd never brought yourself to interact much— he seemed like he'd prefer to keep to himself, if the way he'd disdainfully scoot away from anyone who tried to approach him and turn up the volume of his headphones indicated anything. you had laughed to your friend and called it introversion to its finest, only to promptly shut up when his unmoving gaze landed on you, leaving you feeling like a clown on the stage, rimmed by rich dark red curtains and a wooden floorboard as the beaming spotlight shines upon you imaginary button nose, hot and glaring under his gaze.

even though you'd approved of his music taste once you snagged a few notes by the ear, you'd really thought his taste in fashion was too bland to be the type of person to shop with nobara— her meticulous style and image were much brighter and more flamboyant than megumi's jaded attempts at a splash of color through the occasional blue argyle or layered turtleneck. still, those were better than yuji's paltry attempts at fashion; at least the myriads of color on nobara's figure were coordinated. the pink-haired boy with funny scars on his face would probably have been better off learning graphic design or art, with the disasters of clashing colors on his person.

and he'd gotten the opportunity to demonstrate his questionable tastes on the chilly evening, when black ice had begun to form on the roads and the soft light of boutiques with slow jazz flowing from the speakers filled your frost-bitten red ears as you walked up to the shade of a nearby lamppost. once you'd all met up, nobara had hooked an arm around your elbow and dragged you off, leaving the boys to follow along like it was walking dogs.

honestly, you wouldn't be surprised if you were— at least, with yuji. he carried nobara's bags like she was the next princess in line, without complaint and with the little fearful quivers that dogs get in their legs whenever their owners scold them for barking or misbehaving, much like how nobara would yell at yuji if he dropped a single cream linen sweater or ruffled pink cami.

megumi, on the other hand, was far too lethargic and quiet to be considered any kind of canine. although the weaved bracelet on his left wrist with a cute little puppy charm you caught sight of when he'd rolled his sleeve up implied otherwise. the only reason he'd even had to do that was to rub the sickeningly sweet orange blossom hand sanitizer nobara had spritzed on each of your palms after you took turns petting a stray cat, one that seemed to take a great liking to you and megumi in particular.

the night seemed to drag on forever; pale yellow lights and holiday decorations blurred into swathes and bubbles of color in your vision as the hours passed and the caffeine from the cute little coffeeshop you'd stopped at earlier began to wear off.

but there had just been something magical about that evening; spending time with friends (albeit, more like acquaintances) had granted you a much-needed break from cramming your mind with an overflow of information that was sure to spill out the moment you answered the last exam question. so, when it was almost midnight and it was time to retire to your bed, you'd insisted on staying out for just a little longer while nobara and the rest returned to their dorms to catch some sleep. yuji had complained something about his legs cramping, but you were feeling giddy, and the stars were twinkling just as bright as the light in nobara's eyes were when you told her you had to soak in the fresh air for as long as you could before being locked in to study again as she laughed and headed home with her pink dog-boy escort in tow.

megumi had mumbled something about staying with you since it was late and he wanted to make sure you were safe. you didn't think too much about it, because if you did, you were sure you'd end up with a faced even more flushed than it was frostbitten from the cold.

so, here you were, strolling down the quieter side of town, a brooding boy with inky dark hair and hands pale with blue veins shoved into the pockets of his jacket trailing behind you. he had one airpod tucked into his pierced ear; you assumed he hadn't brought his headphones because yuji would be there to prattle and babble. even so, you were content not to say anything, so there was plenty of opportunity for him to wear both. but he wasn't. you decided not to linger on it.

you'd just finished writing a silly little note out of the crisp snow gathered on the windshield of some stranger's car; the flakes were cold and biting on your skin, leaving it feeling numb with little droplets of icy water when you pulled away to admire your handiwork.

"actually, maybe i shouldn't be doing that." you decided after a moment, mumbling under your breath. it was just a little message with a whiskered smiley face, but the headlights on the car and the bumper seemed to form a frown at you when you stepped back, shaking its motorized head at your vandalism.

"you think?"

megumi's voice sounded from behind you, a little weighed down by the cold with a wisp of warmth leaving his lips like a powdery exhale, curling into the prickly night air. he was standing on the sidewalk, observing you all prickly-like as if you were some flagrant toddler he was babysitting. you still had to get used to the way his voice sounded after rarely hearing it; the few crumbs you got when your professors forced obligatory presentations onto struggling students had sent this warm, fuzzy feeling collecting in your stomach at the rich tone of velvet it held. not rough or overly deep, but smooth and reassuring. the kind you could fall asleep to; like there was a lullaby just waiting to be poured from his tongue with little scratches in the indent of his tone.

of course, you hadn't heard enough of it to make such an assumption, so when you heard the little quip framed with irritation at the edges, it wasn't all sugary sweetness like you imagined.

"yeah, well, sorry i like to live a little," you huffed, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to resuscitate some warmth back into them with a small little sigh.

"you call that living?" he scoffs a little, cocking an eyebrow at the vandalized toyota behind you. now, it just looked a little sad; imaginary eyebrows over the red lights droopy in disappointment. you followed his gaze, before looking back at him and making a sour face as you stepped onto the sidewalk.

"maybe we just have different tastes, y'know? doesn't mean we don't have to get along like this," you mumbled, shaking your hands out a little to get the remaining snow droplets off before stuffing them back in your blazer pockets. "just like itadori and nobara. one has terrible taste in fashion and the other doesn't, but they both like their bright colors." you feel satisfied with yourself for that one, but clearly, megumi doesn't feel the same. but the corner of his pink lips seem to quirk up just a tiny bit, and you feel pride blooming in your chest.

there's just something about the way it looks— an almost implausible smile coaxed onto his lips by something particularly amusing, reaching his dull blue eyes in a way that made their usual tedious apathy morph into something like fondness, or appreciation. adding a shine to his navy irises the lamp light overhead could only hope to mimic. then again, you didn't let your mind linger on it for too long like usual— so instead you chalked it up to the one other thing that had caught your eye besides the sharpness of his jaw and the handsome slimness of his face: his jacket.

you take back what you said about his style and its blandness before— it would be unfair to what he was wearing right now. just a simple black turtleneck (one that you were sure he'd worn to the early morning wednesday lecture you had a few days ago, when the sun was still bright enough to catch on the condensation of the cup of lemonade your white-haired, oddly sweet-toothed professor had), and black jeans, but the vintage racing windbreaker hanging from his shoulders brought it together in a way that was unfairly seamless; all dark blues and stripes of checker; a neutral grayblue that reminded you of the sky on rainy afternoons, trudging about the shopping districts in tokyo. there were a few brand patches here and there, some red bubble lettering of names you didn't recognize in patches of color that brought out the shade of his eyes. maybe the labels of those energy drink brands you often caught him running on when the shadows beneath his long dark lashes seemed heavier than usual.

all that to say he looked good. like, seriously good. you didn't know how you hadn't noticed all night— but now that you had, it was hard to keep your eyes from his slim and tall silhouette (not that he minded). the jacket really complimented it.

"that's a neat jacket. where'd you get it?" you asked after a moment of chilling silence; he'd probably noticed you looking, and you prayed he didn't think you were checking him out. although, if that meant getting your hands on one of those windbreakers, you wouldn't really mind. he glanced up at you, tearing his attention from the sad snowy toyota camry that seemed worn past its years at the newfound attention on megumi's racing jacket. he blinked a little, and you didn't miss the little flake of frost on his eyelash; probably caught from brushing past a windowsill earlier. by now, most shops were closed; even so, the street still felt warm and safe. well, maybe it was to be credited to a person rather than the concrete— but like you had been all night, you ignored it.

"oh, this?" as if he was wearing more than one jacket (it was cute), "i thrifted it." and for some reason, you didn't expect to be surprised, but you were. him? thrifting? the few western-fashion tailored thrift stores you'd been to with nobara had been lacking— not like you'd been able to stay in them long; the artificial ginger had this... beef with reused clothes. she liked her clothes clean and fresh from the press, even if you reminded her they could just be fresh from someone else's press. megumi must be familiar with the antiquated racks of varied worn graphic tees and frayed pants if he could fish something that classy from a thrift store.

then again, it's not like you had any experience to go off of at all.

"really? y'know, i've always wanted to go thrifting," you sighed, stretching your arms out, watching the fabric of your blazer wrinkle and curve to follow the movement of your muscles. a light dusting of snow coated the surface, like powdered sugar on tiramisu. that makes the coffee stains fitting. "but i feel like i'm bad at it." you said, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk, the rubber bottom of your sneakers brushing against a little clump of pine green weeds.

"bad at it?" megumi echoes, following you with a faint ruffle of smooth fabric, like the sound of a zipper sliding down. before, the world had been a cool shade of gray, like smoke rising from a cigarette or the blurry blue of the sky from the window of a speeding bullet train. but now, you let yourself soak in the sound of his voice, like grinded coffee beans and a smooth, soothing honey medicine for your throat on a sick day when you get to cozy up in your bunk bed and watch the clouds drift by.

it's nice.

"yeah. like, i wouldn't know where to go, or what to find, or what to look for..." you trailed off, rubbing your cold fingers together again as your breaths leave in little exhales of coagulating mist in the cold night air. now that it was late, it the temperature would only continue to drop.

you walked in silence for a little longer, listening to the scuffles of shoes against concrete, glassy with ice that had begun to creep up on the roads like a steady stream of seafoam from the tides.

"why don't we go thrifting now, then?" he asks out of the snowy blue.

you paused, and you almost smacked straight into a pole. "now?" you spluttered, turning around to face him. the look on his face was unreadable; a mix between exasperation, amusement, an attempt at stoicism, and something like affection in the corner of his lips as they curved upward. it was like a CPR compression; the smile that sent fuzzy electricity through your veins and reinvigorated your heart.

"yes, now." he said it like you were stupid, which you might just be, the way you stared dumbly at his face. "the place i got this jacket from is just over there," he said, jutting a ring-adorned thumb behind him. you had to lean up and peek around his shoulder to see it; you wouldn't've noticed if he didn't point it out. it was tucked between two buildings, a stairway downward into the store. the only thing indicating its status as a retail and thrifting store was the broken neon sign and painted red arrow that gestured towards the staircase.

"looks really shady. and it's late." you grumbled after you got over yourself, and he shot you an irritated look. that was all he really seemed to be doing tonight; that downward knit of his dark eyebrows and the slight pout weighing his lips down. not very suave, you think.

he swallows hard, and you aimlessly watch the bob of his adam's apple. "well?" he prompts, a hard edge to his voice despite the situation. you stand there for a little while, marinating in the growing cold until you cant feel the tips of your fingers.

"fine."

one accidental slip on the crosswalk and a few minutes later, you're stepping down the last wooden stair of the thrift store and into the building's basement; it's much bigger than you would've thought, with an expanse of layered clothing racks that obscure your vision, the corners of the walls clogged with cobwebs and years of dust build up. there's a faint lingering scent of cigarette smoke and cologne; something vanilla that you've caught clinging to megumi's wrists and neck on the rare occasion you brush past him. faint jazz spills from the speakers, something in a swing rhythm with the signature lilt of saxophone that makes you think you should be out enjoying a romantic fancy dinner instead of being cooped up between old wrinkly moth-bitten clothes. but you're here with megumi, so you convince yourself you don't mind either way.

"you sure this is the right place?" you asked, trying (and failing) to keep the obvious distain from your voice as you kick a folded 'floor-is-wet' sign from your path and step into the store. you can't even see the cash register from where you're standing.

"yes, i'm sure. can you stop complaining?" you can practically hear the eyeroll in his voice, and you're sure you could see it too if you just turned around. "trust me. it's not all shit." his voice softens, and you freeze up a little as he brushes past you; the corridors and margins are tight, so he has to turn sideways to fit. even so, a tag on your coat manages to snag on his jacket, and you hasten to unhook it before he can notice. he almost disappears into the racks, and you have to follow him, pushing your way through thick coats and worn graphic tees that have cracked logos and balls of lints clinging to them.

you're no thrifting expert, but you're pretty sure the store's supposed to be in better condition than this.

"hey." megumi's voice soon snaps you back into reality, and you look up from the mustard yellow top you were eyeing warily to meet his sedate gaze. "the good stuff's in the back. c'mon." he doesn't give you much room to argue even though it sounds like you're here to do drugs rather than find clothing, and before you can react he's reached forward to grab your wrist and tug you along. a yelp of protest almost spills from your lips, but you bite your tongue and let him drag you along, trying to extinguish the hue of cherry you know is making a home on the tips of your ears.

you brush past patchwork coats and a few leather belts that've tangled with the lace from the silk shirts next to them, but nothing really catches your eye, until you realize that he's let go of you only because of the lack of warmth around your skin and you focus yourself on the current again. you glance up at him, but he already has his back turned to you, sifting through a rack of black shirts that all look the exact same. maybe you have an untrained eye, though.

still, you can't help it when your gaze lingers over the back of his neck; one strand of dark hair has caught itself beneath the collar of his turtleneck, and it irks you. and you decide to do something about it because you'll know it'll bother you if you don't.

time seems to move in a liquid slow; things are blurring and there's no mothballs or ugly recycled coats to get in your way as you reach over and swipe your hand across his neck, hooking a finger beneath the strand and pulling it out of his collar. it takes you a moment to realize what you just did, and when you do, it's like there's a permanent mark seared into your index finger just from the touch of his skin against your own. you think he might have whiplash because he turns his head around so fast to catch your gaze before you can slink away, eyes wide and eyebrows knit, and you notice his bottom lip is snagged between his teeth.

he raises an eyebrow, but before he can utter a shaming word that'll only make you feel more embarrassed you shake your head vigorously, apologetically.

"sorry— it was bothering me. i hope you don't mind." you managed to say, the words spilling out in a rush before you turned away and slipped past him, disappearing into an aisle of dresses. you can feel his gaze burning cold holes into your back as you distract yourself.

you don't let yourself linger on what you just did— you seem to be doing a lot of that, lately, especially with him as you go through a few batches of clothing. by now, it's far past midnight, and you're feeling much more sluggish than you'd like to admit. you haven't seen megumi in a good twenty minutes save for the few times you picked up a few shirts and a cute diner jacket you thought would look good on him. he just thanked you bluntly, taking the bundle of clothing from your arms before walking away to the fitting rooms. you wished he'd stay to let you see the jacket.

you'd tried on a few things, discarding your blazer in favor of a cute knitted cardigan you grabbed, but nothing seemed to stick the way you'd like them to. it would be a great help if you had nobara to assist, but you were sure she was snoring away at home right now, and at the thought of your warm, inviting bed, your knees wobbled a little and you balanced yourself on the wall.

"hey— oh, you alright?" it's an unfamiliar voice; you lift your head up, looking for the source. it's a young boy— he looks to be about your age, maybe a little younger. there's a blue lanyard around his neck, and he's got a spattering of freckles on his hands, which are curled around the collar of a white linen shirt. he must be the one who's tending to the store.

"yeah, i'm okay. sorry," you said hastily, pushing away and rubbing the back of your neck. how embarrassing— he didn't seem to mind, though. he just smiled, big and bright and toothy. cute. reminded you of how toddlers would grin up at parents with those huge red lollipops in hand.

"no worries. i just thought i'd let you know that we're closing soon, since it's almost 2am." he said, shifting his weight on his sneakers. you nodded, about to give a hum of confirmation before another voice cuts through the slow jazz filling the stifling air above, all familiar in its smoothness.

before you could respond, though— "[name]?" megumi's voice rang out in the quaint little store, calling for you, and so you give the employee an apologetic nod before you turn and start toward the noise. you pass a mirror with a coat draped over the top, peeking your head around a tall rack of long skirts to catch sight of the raven head, in all of his glory. you notice that he's taken off his windbreaker.

"what’s up? we have to go soon," you reminded him, yawning a little and rubbing your eyes as you straightened up and stepped over to his side. there was another mirror in front of him, you noticed, with fading stickers pale in the dim yellow light stuck to the wooden rim. even so, with the smudges and the bare sheen of the silver, he looked good. that black turtleneck really suits him.

"i know. i just wanted to ask for your opinion." he said, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. you tilted your head curiously, and he held up a deep mauve sweatshirt, with some varsity logo branded on the fabric. it had a nice touch to it; a warm color that reminded you of red wine and slow evenings. you were sure it had been one of the pieces you'd picked out for him, but you were too sleepy to recall. "you should try it on. i think it'd look good," you said, gesturing toward the mirror.

you think you must've said something wrong, because he looks at you for a moment too long before he seems to catch himself staring and he nods, a choked little sound leaving his throat which he hides by ducking his head down and covering his face with his long bangs. you think you're hallucinating the pink on his cheeks.

after a moment, he glances at you. "hold this," he shoves his jacket towards you, and you have no choice but to take it. doesn't seem like he's used to taking no for an answer, but you're certainly not the one complaining when he tugs the sweater over his head, ruffling his soft black hair as he steps a little closer to you, observing himself in the mirror while straightening out the folds and fixing his turtleneck. you were right— it does look good on him. almost unfairly so— you don't know how he manages to rock granny clothes so well, like he was born a retirement home's runway model.

unlike him, you're not a reticent shut in— and although you'd like to say you have no problem telling him how good he looks, it's still a little difficult when the words feel like they're lodged in your throat in order to prevent you from making a fool of yourself again. but you ignore it and push on.

"you look great. i think it really suits you," you breathed, shaking your head as your hands tighten around his jacket in your arms. he blinks, adjusting the collar before glancing down at you. you take a moment to really appreciate the sight— him, bathed in the soft yellow glow of the chipped lights overhead. despite the dilapidated store and the antiquated, worn clothing surrounding him, he still manages to look like some ethereal angel boy you'd stumble upon in a bookstore on a dreary winter's afternoon and never be able to get out of your mind again.

ink black eyelashes flutter when he blinks, framing his eyes like the bangs falling over his face when he turns around again to observe himself in the mirror once more before he takes the sweatshirt off. it catches on his turtleneck, which rides up when he slips the mauve sweater over his head, tussling his hair and exposing the dip of his pale hips, all muscle and flesh and bone, and you pray he chalks up the red on your face to the cold. the end of his belt dangles from the buckle as you hand his jacket back to him, fingers almost brushing— just barely out of reach.

a meager conversation flows between the two of you; you follow him through the endless maze of used clothing until you somehow stumble upon the cash register and he buys his sweater; the only thing he manages to buy after all this time spent milling about in a dusty, dinky little retail store. the boy from earlier helps check him out, and the icy glare he receives from megumi when he glances at you seems to fly straight past your head as you pick at your cuticles. the tips of your fingers are still red from messing with the frosty snow earlier. you wonder when the car owner will find your message.

it's almost freezing when you get out of the dusty shop, emerging from the smoke-stained alleyway stairs and into the cold night air. your breaths almost seem to form a precipitate, and the thought reminds you of the chemistry conversions waiting for you on your desk beneath the lamp, and you cringe internally. staying out for a few hours longer seems way better than succumbing to the never ending stream of worksheets and documents calling your name. you wonder if your charismatic professor will let you get away with a few assignments if you call in sick. are papercuts excuse enough?

the click of a lock behind you signifies the store's closing— the employee left through a back exit, it seems. and you realize too late that you left your blazer in the dressing room when you turn around and a sigh falls from your lips. megumi, paper bag in hand, glances over at you.

"you okay?"

you almost forgot he was there, in his brooding vintage racing jacket glory. you shake your head, before sighing forlornly again. he notices this, making a little face; his lips press together and his pretty eyes narrow. he thinks you sigh far too much. you'd look prettier if you smiled some more. he likes it when you do.

"i left my blazer in there, but he just closed it and it's so fucking cold out," you whined, bringing your hands to your face and rubbing your eyes tiredly. you're cold and your fingers are going numb again, and there's light snowfall. so much for not losing your coat at a club. you can't tell which one's worse. "sorry to complain so much, but do you mind if we—"

you're promptly cut off; the words on your tongue left unsaid, burning with the taste of bitter black coffee. your gaze trails from megumi's hand, the clink of his silver ring against the zipper rail of his jacket as his fingers curl around the fabric, up his arm to the sleeves of his dark turtleneck, rounding the curve of his shoulders and up his neck to his face. he's not looking at you.

the words that leave his wet lips are so small and hurried that you think you're hallucinating them; when you inevitably looked back at this moment later, you'd realize that he was being shy. he mumbles something under his sweet breath, and you ask him to speak up.

"i said, you can use mine." he repeats, louder than necessary as he finally brings himself to look down at you from under his lashes, biting the inside of his cheek. his voice is a little strained, and a soft breeze carrying the smell of cinnamon and fresh ice rustles his hair. you blinked, feeling like a deer caught in headlights over a layer of thin ice, ready to shatter at a moment's notice.

"oh— okay. um, do you have anywhere else you need to go..?" you said tentatively, reaching forward to take his jacket again. it was exactly like how you'd done back in the thrift store, but the vague sense of deja vu you get is accompanied by an endless fluttering of warmth in your stomach that melts away the winters and tiring exams, and the night seems to become a soft warm orange, as if someone's drained the cool hues from the landscape.

megumi just shook his head, reaching into his bag and taking out the sweater he'd bought earlier. he slips it on again, adjusting it over his shoulders and refusing to meet your eyes as he crumples the paper bag in his hands. you notice they're slightly trembling as he does it, fingers digging into the material with much more force than is really needed. his hair follows each movement of his head; the strain of the muscles in his neck when he swallows again and gestures for you to follow him back down the empty street, past cars coated in melting snow and jaunty yellow lights twinkling over the awnings of closed store windows, shut down for the night. the sweater suits him really well, you think; not too loose, but tight enough in the right places to send your heart racing a mile a minute.

you pull his jacket over your arms, tucking your sleeves in and zipping it up. it's big on you— that's no surprise, and you can almost taste the vanilla on your tongue, his cologne lingering on every fold of the insulated fabric. it's warm, and it feels like being enveloped in a tight hug. in megumi's head, he hopes— prays its him you think of if you ever feel that way again.

you walk in a stiff silence; both of you want to say something, but you're dancing around it, letting your words linger unsaid until the other breaks the ice first. it's only ever cracked once you reach the dorms, where you part ways. there's light snowfall, and a thin layer of white has coated his hair when you turn to face him. you reach forward, learning onto the tips of your toes to brush off the ice. his hair feels unimaginably soft beneath your fingers, slightly damp from the snow. but he's the furthest from cold when you pull away; his face is burning up.

by now, you can't bring yourself to mind.

"thank you," you said softly, sighing contentedly. you move to take his jacket off your shoulders and return it, but he stops you, holding a hand up. the expression on his face is unreadable, but his lips are pursed together in a way that makes you think he's pouting.

"don't worry—" a pause. " you can, uh. keep it. i know you wanted one. just... give it back when you want, yeah?" he says, curt. almost prude, if it weren't for the way he was avoiding your gaze out of embarrassment. it was like trying to play the world's most difficult game of whack-a'mole, attempting to catch his eyes and see the iceberg that's melted into pools of warm glittering affection in his blue irises. at the thought, you wonder if he likes arcades, and you make a mental note to suggest an activity to nobara the next time she has the urge for an escapade.

you don't bother asking him whether he's sure, because you don't want him to take his words back. so you linger there in a moment of silence, letting it hang over your heads like a warm throw blanket, cozied in front of a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in your hands. maybe a coffee mix like you'd attempted before.

angel boy clears his throat first to speak, all honey that links the syllables together like christmas ribbon; rich like orange flavored dark chocolate. "i'll see you later, then." it's short and sweet, but your heart is already flying so high on euphoria you can barely bring yourself to care, or suppress the giddy grin that's spreading across your lips.

yeah, you're tired. yeah, you're still a little cold and you think you need to thaw at your desk for a week until exams, but at least you've got his jacket to accompany you when your study buddy passes out first and you're alone on all nighters. frankly, you can't bring yourself to care— your head is spinning with the events of the chilly night, from crude messages in the snow to thrift store mothballs and lanyards, to one checkered racing jacket. but you don’t think it’s so bad when it threatens to stick to your memory, like chewed up gum under your professor’s desk. whether it’s from the students or the professor, that’s a mystery you’ll never solve.

"yeah. see you around, fushiguro." you can’t say the same about the mystery that megumi is, though. in fact, you think you’re already one step closer when you turn around and part ways, catching sight of him in the reflection of a frosted window. he’s slipping both of his airpods back into his ears, crimson at the tips.

the sound of your shoes against the rug stairway fills your ears as you clamber back up to your dorm, eyelids heavy with drowsiness and face flushed a pleasant warmth. even when you finally get to bed, you can't stop your eyes from drifting over to the bundle of lapis blue fabric sitting on your desk, and your mind from the soft spoken boy with eyes like the night sky and inky hair like calligraphy.

you decide you don't think his style is too bad, after all. and when you tell him that the next morning when he's still sleepy and his lashes fall slow when he blinks the weariness from his eyes, you get to enjoy the steady flush that stains his cheeks and prompts a hoarse cough from his throat when he ducks his head away and grumbles something under his breath, probably about being offended you even thought he was boring in the first place.

and if you ever ask, the only reason he lent you his windbreaker that night was to replace the scent of mothballs and dust with your sweet-smelling perfume.

so, as it turns out, you're able to get your hands on one of those pretty vintage racing jackets— except, it wasn't a new one; it was his. nobara hasn't stopped pestering you with questions since you showed up to class the next day; the only thing you hear for the next week is how much she regrets leaving early.

apparently, it's all yuji's fault.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

#ahhh im really sorry this is late;; got busy with life like those ao3 authors but much less impressive #i really like jazz i feel like not enough people do #just listen to persona music sometime. its worth #sometimes i make up words but thats ok as long as people buy it. i speak english first language trust 👨‍🔬#i feel like reader is kokomi or whatever her name is from saiki k #at that one ramen place but its a thrift store.. pretending it’s not all that bad except reader doesn’t rlly try LMFAO #for megumi!!! everything we do is for him 💐#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #fushiguro megumi x you #megumi x reader #megumi x you #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x y/n #billet-doux #and via thinks her titles r bad #I CAN FINALLMY. WORK ON MY CHRISTMAS EVENT

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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year

Text

Hunting Season

cw: trophy hunting of sentient creatures, severe leg injury, oral sex, fingering, thigh humping

fem jackalope hybrid x afab reader

Word count: 8k

You hated hunting season. You moved out here, all the way to the woods, to escape people and yet every year they came, the worst people you could possibly imagine. Every summer stupid men came into your forest with their guns and their traps and every year it infuriated you. You wouldn’t be so mad if they were hunting for food, that you understood, but almost all of them were trophy hunters.

You set off on your daily ritual of trying to set off all the traps they’d set this morning so no one would get caught in them.

Your head jerked up as the sound of distant wailing pierced through the quiet of the forest. You took off. If you’d heard it, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did.

As you got closer to the noise, you realized that it sounded human and you cursed, knowing a hybrid had gotten stuck in one of their traps.

You approached slowly, making sure no one else was around. Your relationships with the hunters were already strenuous. They knew you were setting off all of their traps, if they knew you were also setting their prey free… well, you weren’t sure what they might do but you were certain it wouldn’t be good.

The first thing you saw, hidden away amongst the leaves, was a set of antlers. They poked up above the foliage as you crept up slowly.

Through the leaves you saw a girl, around your age, with a pair of long fluffy ears that were tucked down behind her antlers overtop her mousy hair. The flattened ears matched her terrified expression, her cheeks wet with tears as she kept desperately clawing at her leg.

You didn’t even think jackalope hybrids existed, thought they were an urban legend hunters told each other about. And yet there she was, panicked and crying and very much real.

As you began to approach, her big ears perked up. They were nestled behind her antlers, her nose twitching as you moved through the foliage.

Big, teary brown eyes met your own as you emerged from your hiding spot. As soon as she saw you she tugged urgently at her leg, which was wedged firmly between the teeth of the metal trap. The only thing she succeeded in was getting digging the metal further into her flesh as she desperately tried to pull away.

You took a step back in an attempt to get her to stop moving. “Hey, I’m not here to hurt you but if you keep moving like that you’re going to hurt yourself even worse.

She tried to thrash away from you, muttering no to herself as she was painfully rooted in place.

“You need my help to open this kind of trap, just please stay still,” you pleaded with her.

She listened, freezing in place, wet eyes looking expectantly at you as you edged closer.

As soon as you were within reach you got to work compressing the springs on either side of the trap to free her. After a few substantial pushes the trap fell open and you quickly latched it that way before pushing it away from the both of you.

The poor girl immediately tried to stand up and collapsed, her injured leg not allowing her to put any weight on it. You went down with her, pulling her arm over your shoulder to help her stand. “There you go, sweetheart, just lean on me. That’s it, there you go.”

She eagerly leaned into your side, putting almost all of her weight on you. There was no attempt to fling herself away this time and you weren’t sure if it was because you’d earned her trust or because she’d realized she had no other options.

Either way, you needed to get her to safety, and fast.

Your pace was slower than you would have liked. You’d have preferred to attempt to carry her but you got the distinct feeling that would spook her even further.

Luckily you weren’t too far from your cabin and you managed to make your way back without encountering anyone.

You pulled her through the door, quickly shutting it behind you, closing her off from any prying eyes. If anyone saw her, you weren’t sure there was anything you could do to stop them.

“You’re helping me?” She said it like she couldn't quite believe it, like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had a feeling only time would take away that instinct. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it go away right now, it was too ingrained in her.

The most you could do was help her with gentle hands and a soft voice.

“Yup. Come on, up here.” You shifted her onto your bed, the blood from her injured leg seeping into the sheets.

You cursed under your breath as you realized that all that was left of your first aid supplies was an old roll of gauze and a half empty box of bandaids. Certainly not enough to fix this. You grabbed some vodka and a clean rag, determined to do the best you could to sanitize it before wrapping it up, or at least to remove some of the grime it was currently covered in.

The wound was barely visible, clots of blood and dirt streaked across her, spread everywhere from her writhing on the ground.

“This is going to hurt,” you warned her as you soaked the cloth, hoping she understood that this had to be done.

She drew back a little back a little before nodding and grabbing a handful of your sheets in preparation as you knelt by her injured leg.

The little shriek she let out as the vodka soaked rag touched her wounds broke your heart. You were going to string those hunters up the second you got the chance.

The more blood and dirt you pulled away, the better you could to see the gashes in her leg. They were even worse than you’d imagined. She’d clearly been trying to pull herself out for a while before you got there.

“Really hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know hun, but we have to get you cleaned up. I promise I’ll be quick, we’re almost done.”

You dabbed at her wounds as gingerly as you could, trying to distract her from the pain by talking while you cleaned her up.

“Your english is really good.”

She swayed back and forth a little, a proud smile crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I know very little about your language, I’ve looked but it’s very hard to find anything about it.”

“Secret,” she said with a wince.

“Oh, is it? I had no idea.”

You’d left the worst part for last but you’d run out of opportunities to avoid it.

Too nervous to get near it, you opted instead to empty what was left of the bottle onto her leg. As you did, she grabbed your unoccupied hand, squeezing it as hard as she could.

The bottle ran empty and you looked up to see her with her eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched.

You stood up to go get the gauze you had left and she tentatively opened one eye at the sound of your retreat. At the sight of her bloody leg she promptly shut it again. You couldn’t blame her, it was hard for you to look at and it wasn’t even your blood.

You grabbed the old gauze from inside your half forgotten first aid kit and promised yourself that soon you’d go into town and gather more supplies so next time you needed it you’d be prepared.

Your heart sank at the thought of there being a next time, at the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you could never stop this from happening.

That there would always be some you couldn’t get to in time.

You shook the thought out of your head. Worrying about them wouldn’t fix anything. All you could do was care for the one you’d managed to save.

“Do you have a name?”

She nodded, her ears shifting as she did. “Posy.”

“Well, Posy, you should get some rest. I’ve gotta go out for a while but you’ll be safe in here.”

She glanced around the room nervously, eyes grazing over the furniture. She must have found her surroundings satisfactorily safe because after a few moments she fell backwards onto the bed, nestling into the blankets.

Despite the fact that she seemed content, you were hesitant to leave her alone. The only thing that managed to send you out that door was the thought that she might not be the only one.

Night was falling but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew these woods more than well enough to navigate in the dark and god knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, you knew your mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to allow you to rest.

You set off the rest of the traps you could find before returning home, breaking and displacing all the ones that you could. They’d already done far more damage than you would have liked.

Thankfully, every trap you came across was untripped. You already felt in over your head, you weren’t sure you could take care of any more injured creatures.

You half expected her to be gone when you got back.

Instead, she was out cold on the bed, curled up around a pillow she was hugging close to her chest. She was lit up by the rays of the sunrise creeping through the gaps in your drawn curtains.

She jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. She tried to bolt upright before being stopped by a painful reminder of why she was in your bed in the first place.

She pulled her legs up towards her, tucking them into herself and inspecting the bloody bandages she had wrapped around her calf.

“How’re you feeling,” you asked, careful to keep your distance so you didn’t scare her even more.

“Bad.”

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it’s going to be like that for a while, you hurt yourself pretty badly. But it’ll heal, I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

Her head cocked to the side and she studied you from her position on the bed.

“Do you want something to eat?” you asked as she surveyed you.

She nodded hesitantly.

Her big eyes watched you carefully as you put a pot on the stove, lighting the fire under it. She moved closer, hopping so as not to put weight on her injured leg and quickly settling in on the floor, positioning herself so she was eye level with the flame.

“Be careful, don’t burn yourself,” you called back as you grabbed a can of soup from the pantry, sticking to something with vegetables in it and hoping that jackalope hybrid’s diets weren’t too dissimilar from bunny hybrids.

“I’m not stupid.” She pouted at you before returning to her fire watching. “How did you make fire so fast?”

She chose her words slowly and intentionally, working her way through the question while you busied yourself with heating up the soup for the two of you, letting her figure out the words in her own time.

“Um, there’s gas in the stove and the knob makes a little spark that lights it.”

“Gas?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s warm in here all night.” It was more of a statement than an observation but you understood what she was asking.

“Yeah, that’s because of a fire too, it’s a heating system. What do you guys normally do at night?”

“We stay close and sheltered.”

“Well, we’re sheltered here, and we’re pretty close.”

She shook her head. “No, closer.”

“Like cuddling?”

Posy nodded.

“How do you speak English so well?”

“I learned. We all did.”

“Why?”

“To talk our way out of trouble. If you can’t escape, make them like you. Buys time.”

“You know you don’t have to do that with me, right? You can say or do whatever you want to, I’m going to take care of you either way.”

“Why?”

“It’s the decent thing to do. Unfortunately for you, decency is not a universal trait but I promise, no harm will come to you here. Be as much of a little shit as you want.”

She scrunched up her nose as she smiled. “Challenge accepted!”

“Not quite how I meant it.”

She ignored you in favor of staring at the stove as you worked around her.

Eventually, you broke her little hypnotic spell as you announced, “Food’s done. Do you like tea?”

She shrugged. “What is it?”

“It’s good, you should try it.”

You couldn’t exactly ask her how she liked her tea so instead you opted to put some sugar in it and hope for the best.

“Do you need help?” you asked as you looked down at her sitting on the floor.

“With what?”

“With moving to the table. Come on, I’ll…”

“No. Stay here.”

You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to stay on the ground or if the thought of you helping her up wounded her pride. Either way, you weren’t going to fight her on it.

“Alright. Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing at the floor next to her.

She shook her head with a giggle and you settled down next to her, setting two bowls of soup and two mugs of tea on the floor.

She took a sip out of the mug and scrunched up her nose.

“Too hot.”

“Well, you have to let it cool down first. The soup should be better, I didn’t bring it to a full boil”

She picked up the bowl, ignoring the spoon in favor of sipping directly from it.

“What is this?” she asked, giving it a curious look.

“It’s just soup, I get it from the store when I go out.”

“Store?”

“Yeah, it’s where I go to get food.”

“You don’t make it. What do you do with all your forages?”

“Oh, I don’t forage.”

She seemed baffled by this revelation. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really know how.”

“You live here? And you don’t know how?” she asked incredulously.

“Hey, I’m not stupid either, I just never needed to learn. We all have blind spots.”

“You should learn. This is disgusting.”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re gonna be eating a lot of this stuff until I can get you back on your feet.”

She made no attempt to mask her pout and you couldn’t help but laugh as you added, “Just think of it as motivation to get better faster.”

She didn’t seem convinced by your arguments but was too hungry to care. She practically inhaled her food, despite her less than glowing review regarding its taste.

The tea was more of a hit, her first sip not leaving her questioning your survival skills at the very least.

After a few more tastes she announced, “This is fine.”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”

And honestly, you really were. You were incredibly happy to see her settling in, the jumpiness from before all but gone.

She looked up from an empty bowl, clutching a still warm mug in her hands. “What now?”

“I don’t normally have guests, I don’t really know how all of this works. Do you want to watch a movie?” It felt like an absurdly pedestrian thing to ask someone who’d almost been hunted for sport the day before but you got the sense she’d appreciate the distraction.

“What’s a movie?”

“I can show you, c’mon, they’re over here.”

You didn’t have any real service out here in the woods, but what you did have was an old tv and a box of vhs tapes. They were all grainy and in black and white but if she didn’t even know what a movie was, you couldn’t imagine Posy would be particularly picky about the quality.

You picked something light and hit play. Her eyes widened the second the tv lit up with a picture, scrambling to get a closer look.

“How does it do that?” she asked, her eyes unblinking as she stared at it.

“I’m not really sure to be honest, it’s a bit above my paygrade.”

She scooted across the floor to the back of the tv, searching for the origin of the little moving image.

You let her explore, settling down on the couch as she moved across the floor. Eventually, she settled down with her back against the couch, leaning her head against your leg.

“Hi there,” you said, looking down at the girl and wondering whether or not you should join her on the floor.

She tilted her head back, looking up at you with big eyes. “Hello.”

She didn’t seem partial to personal space, nuzzling into you as she watched.

As the movie neared its close you weaseled away from her and got up from your seat to try and clean up while she was distracted. You didn’t want to remind her about some of the messier things that were still lying around.

Despite her wonder at the movie, she stopped and turned to instead watch you.

You went to make the bed, removing all the bloody blankets and replacing them with clean ones, tossing everything covered in blood into the trash. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be salvageable.

“I can sleep on the floor tonight, you can take the bed,” you called over to her.

She looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “No, you won’t.”

“Please, you’re hurt, I can’t ask you to sleep down there.”

“I don’t want to sleep on that thing,” she said, eyeing your bed distastefully.

You ceded the floor to her after it became clear she would not budge on her position.

Later that night, you awoke from the feeling of something moving around you. As you gathered your bearings, you felt someone nestle into your chest and you realized that Posy had risen from her spot on the floor and had instead opted to wrap her arms around you.

She was looking for comfort. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out.

You never could have done this, been as brave as her, sought out comfort like this when you needed it. There was courage in the gesture you couldn’t help but admire, a distinct bravery in the vulnerability.

You ran your fingers through her hair and her grip on you only got tighter, pleading you to stay with her. You’d just felt her get into the bed and wrap herself around you but she seemed to already be drifting off in your arms.

“I’ve got you,” you muttered, positioning yourself to try and make sure you wouldn’t get whacked by her antlers in your sleep.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off. You hated to admit it but maybe the closeness didn’t just help her.

You were just as close when you woke up the next morning, her head resting on your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you.

“I thought you said you preferred the floor,” you said with a chuckle as she shifted further beneath the blankets, still attached to your side.

“I do. I dont like sleeping alone.”

“No, I don’t think I do either. Well, you’re welcome to stay up here, I don’t mind.”

“Mkay,” she said, sounding like she was drifting off again. “This thing is more comfortable than it looks.”

Before she could succumb to the newfound wonders of your blankets and the mattress, you nudged her awake.

“Come on, there’ll be time for that later, we need to get those bandages changed.”

She looked nervous about the proposition and you tried to cede ground and make the vulnerable position she was in feel a little less scary. “You can change them yourself if you want, I understand if you don’t want me near your injuries.”

She looked up at you from her spot on the pillow, a timidness present now that certainly hadn’t been there moments before. Her ears were the telltale sign, rising from their relaxed position and stiffening back. “Can you help?”

“Of course I can,” you reassured her. “Your wish is my command.”

“Be careful what you promise, who knows what I’ll ask for,” she said with a smile, her ears falling back into place at your words.

“Aren’t you a little tyrant in the making? Come on then, let’s take care of that leg so you can get right to bossing me around.”

She pulled her leg up next to you, wincing a little as she did. You pretended not to notice.

Your brain ran through contingencies as you bound her injuries. So many things could go wrong with her being here, you weren’t prepared for this.

You barely had the supplies to tend to her injuries, let alone keep her safe and hidden.

“Have you been through your mating season?” you asked, trying to figure out exactly where you stood.

She nodded, ears bobbing up and down as she did. Her dark eyes shone with mischief. “Why are you asking?”

Realistically, it was because her going into heat in your cabin could cause a world of problems. The last thing you needed was to attract more attention to her presence here. Other hybrids might not hurt her but a congregation of them outside wouldn’t exactly be discreet.

That didn’t feel like the right thing to say though, so instead you opted for a playful, “I can’t be curious?”

“Maybe. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” you said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Her cheeks flushed, despite her being the one to propose the idea and you got the distinct impression her teasing was not going to plan. “I thought humans were prudes.”

“Come on, am I anything like the humans they told you about?”

She sighed, knowing when she’d lost. “No.”

She was even cute when she was pouting, it wasn’t fair.

“I’m gonna go out and make sure no one else got caught in those traps, okay? I hope that pretty smile of yours is back when I get back or else…”

“Or else?”

You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Or else I’ll find out if you’re ticklish, how’s that sound?”

She giggled, her arms moving over her stomach defensively at the mere thought. “Anything but that,” she pleaded.

“There’s that smile again. See you in a few hours.” Before you could really think about your actions you pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. The second her arms dropped in surprise you poked her in the stomach, leaving the cabin as you heard cries of protest behind you.

She was sitting cross legged right inside the door when you got home, her ears perked up and at attention. The second you crossed through the doorway she sprung up, practically tackling you.

She pressed kisses into both of your cheeks in what you could only describe as an attack.

“I win.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What was that for?”

“You poked me!”

“Only because you let your guard down.” You took another easy shot and poked her again

“You’re doing better,” you noted. She was still significantly favoring her left leg, the right one almost hovering above the floor as she stood, but the fact that she was standing and moving at all was frankly incredible. “Healed enough for a sneak attack.”

“Healed enough for revenge,” she said with a smile and a nod.

There was no way that she had significantly healed in the few hours you were gone. You could see it in every movement, she was just as hurt as she’d been this morning.

The change in her disposition seemed more tied to her growing comfort around you than anything.

You wanted to keep that going, make sure she felt welcome here, felt at home. You swore you’d put even more effort into it and make sure she knew she was cared for.

It was that promise to yourself that led you to making homemade cookies for your newfound roommate.

You swatted her hand away from the bowl as she snuck another bite of cookie dough away from you.

“You’re going to make yourself sick, you shouldn’t eat that.”

She just giggled, intent on ignoring your protests.

“Well, when we don’t have enough cookies we’ll both know who to blame.”

That seemed to get through to her, her eyes widening as she surveiled the bowl. “You’ll make more for me, right?”

“I’m not your personal chef,” you protested.

That didn’t stop you from caving and making her more cookies. You were certain even the strongest will couldn’t withstand those big, sad eyes. They were a powerful weapon and she knew it.

Eventually you managed to get a full batch of cookies into the oven, despite Posy making every attempt to stop you.

While the cookies were baking, you hopped up on the counter and watched Posy on the floor, her preferred seat.

You tilted your head, getting a better look at her as she stared down at her feet. Normally she stared up at you endlessly but now she seemed lost in thought.

“What’re you thinking about,” you prodded.

“Just wondering if anyone’s worried about me.”

“I’m sure people are. Do you have any family?”

She nodded. “Yeah, a big one. I have five sisters, Rose, Violet, Poppy, Lily, and Daisy, she’s the only one younger than me. I was out with her right before I got caught, was getting her home, I had her run when there was trouble.”

“And they’re jackalopes like you?”

She nodded. “There aren’t many of us outside the family though.”

“Do you know what happened to the rest?”

“People happened to them. Not my family though. They’re very very safe, they never let me go out.”

“I’m sure they miss you, I’ll try and find them next time I go out, tell them you’re okay.”

She shrugged. “I go missing a lot, they always say I’m trouble. Everyone else is always home but I get restless, stuck in there.” She rubbed her injured leg as she spoke, the other one bouncing up and down nervously.

“Well, we’ll make sure you can tell them you’re okay as soon as we can, when you get all healed up and are able to get back into trouble.”

“Do you get restless?”

“Not really, I like staying put. I do like rescuing you though. How about you keep getting into trouble and I’ll keep rescuing you, deal?”

You stuck out your hand, leaning towards the floor as much as you could so she could reach you.

She stared at it like you were crazy, moving around it to see if you were secretly holding something.

“You shake it,” you whispered to her. “That’s how we humans make deals.”

She took it and gave it a violent shake.

“Yeah, just like that,” you laughed.

Your little timer went off and you hopped down from the counter to pull the cookies out. Per usual, Posy did not wait for the food to cool before trying them, scooping a collapsing cookie into her mouth.

“Are they to your liking, m’lady,” you teased her.

“Better than your soup.”

You scoffed and swatted at her as she leaned away, collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles.

“You’re lucky you’re so cute or that mouth of yours might get you into some real trouble.”

A blush began to bloom beneath her facefull of freckles. “I thought you said I wasn’t trouble?”

“I said I didn’t mind and that I’d rescue you, I never said you weren’t trouble. Even I wouldn’t go making claims like that, especially not after you stole my cookies.”

Your little attempts to make her feel welcome got more and more frequent, despite feeling less and less necessary.

On one of your trips through the forest, you found some lavender, picking some for her without a second thought, leaving a little bouquet of them on the pillow next to her sleeping head.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be able to come and go without Posy ever waking. As her initial jumpiness faded, you found out that she was an incredibly deep sleeper.

She was sleeping in bed with you every night, the cuddling never ending, even when you weren’t sleeping.

When the summer nights got too warm she kicked the blankets off the both of you, staying firmly attached to your side all the while.

Without a concerted effort from you to get her to move, she’d stay nestled into the covers most of the time.

There were, as there always are, exceptions to the rule.

When you got back home, you found her sitting at the door with a sprig of lavender in her hair and the rest clutched in her hands. She was just as excited to see you as ever, already shouting out thank yous and springing up to give you a hug, being able to put a little more weight on her injured foot every time she jumped up to greet you.

She was getting better and better at English as well, her already amazing English constantly improving. She was an incredibly fast learner. She could hear you use a word once or twice and pick up its meaning almost immediately.

She’d started picking up curse words from you, which you found endlessly amusing. Her soft, sweet voice would let out an impatient “fuck” and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh.

The whole ordeal made her quite cross. She insisted she was just mimicking you and there wasn’t anything funny about it. You unconvincingly reassured her that of course it wasn’t, not funny at all, all spoken behind a smile.

You, on the other hand, were a little slower with her langugae

She was willing to share but replicating her words was more difficult than you’d anticipated. It had sounds you were unfamiliar with, little clicks and shifts in tone you’d never had to make before.

You’d asked her about her family names, if they were translations or if they just happened to line up with english words

“I translated them. The meaning’s what’s important anyways.”

“What is your real name?”

“Posy is my real name.”

“But how would you say it?”

She made one of the noises you were becoming more and more familiar with. It was more subtle than any word you’d ever heard before, almost being mistakable for a sound of the trees rustling or the wind outside.

You did your best to repeat back what she’d said and immediately knew you’d gotten it wrong based on her snickering.

It took a few tries but eventually you got it right.

“Call me Posy though.” she added. “The meaning is what matters.”

“Yeah okay, I will”

As you sat there, mulling over the secret words she’d been gifting you, you blurted out a question you’d been unable to shake. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do! Did you really think I might not trust you?” She seemed more hurt by the question than anything.

Did you? “Not really. I think I just wanted to hear you say it.

She thought for a minute and then shot back a question of her own. “Why did you get me flowers?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I thought you might like them. Did you?”

“Mmhmm.” she nodded enthusiastically. “The thing is… I’ve just heard things about humans and giving people flowers.”

You felt your cheeks begin to warm and tried to play it off. “Have you? Good things or bad things?”

She shrugged. “Just things.”

You had an idea where she might have been getting these ideas from.

Her obsession with movies was there from the start. She was endlessly fascinated by the moving images and your inability to explain to her how they worked only seemed to fuel her fascination. You were certain she was going to wear through your vhs tapes.

Her fascination seemed to warp over time, however. You noticed the movies she’d keep watching, the fixation on romance movies growing steadily the more she consumed.

For the fifth time this week alone you came home to her watching an old black and white romance, her nose practically touching the screen.

“Is it true humans mate for life?” she asked as you settled in next to her.

“Sometimes. Depends on the human.”

“Oh. What about you human?”

“Maybe. I suppose I’d just have to find the right person. Or the right bunny.”

Her face immediately lit up with no attempt to hide it

“I think I like human romance.”

“What, no one ever get you flowers before?”

“We get each other flowers. We just don’t have partners. It seems nice.”

“You could have a partner, nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nothing?”

You slid down from the couch next to her on the floor. “Nope, nothing. Which one’s your favorite?”

She rushed over to your collection of tapes. Her movement was practically normal now. She was still favoring her left side but it seemed more out of habit than from her injury, being fully capable of forgetting all about it and darting about when she got excited.

She wasted no time before getting comfortable, clamoring up into your lap and nuzzling into you as the movie began.

You should get more tapes for her, you thought offhandedly before realizing there might not be a point. She was practically healed and as much as you tried to forget it, she would eventually leave.

You had no clue how to bring up the topic, how to suggest that maybe she could visit you despite knowing that everyone she knew and loved would want her to stay far away from you the second they got her back.

Maybe you were being selfish by not talking about it, trying to keep her with you as long as possible. Frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

She noticed your mind drifting and brought you back to reality with an elbow to the side. You let out an oof and shot an accusatory glance her way but she was staring at you with frantic eyes.

“This is the best part,” she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”

You turned back to the screen just in time to catch the climax of the movie. The music swelled, the camera zoomed in, and the pair on your screen finally kissed.

She must have this movie memorized by now but Posy still seemed utterly entranced by the scene in front of her.

“I’ve kissed some people, but never like that,” she informed you, her eyes still glued to the screen.

You wanted to kiss her like that. You wanted to kiss her every way she wanted to be kissed, to show her a romance to rival all of her little movies.

But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if she was just a friend showing another friend a movie and you’d misread every signal.

Posy put those doubts right out of your mind, staring at you with resolve as she clearly hinted, “If only someone would kiss me like that.”

You laughed out, “you dumbass,” before leaning in, slowly, carefully, intentionally, just like in her little movie, with all the love in the world in your eyes.

You shut them the moment before you made contact, her hands immediately coming up to cup your face, holding you close.

You fell into the kiss immediately. It just felt right, you fit together perfectly. You were pressed up against each other but you kept trying to pull her closer, wanting more.

The tip of her tongue teased at the seam of your mouth until you let her in, deepening the kiss.

Her legs fell to either side of your thigh and she slid herself forwards and back, letting out little whimpers into your mouth.

You pushed your leg up into her grinding, encouraging her.

You broke the kiss for a second, muttering out, “Do you want to…”

She nodded and cut you off as she pushed her lips back into yours.

You tried to lead the two of you back towards the bed while she refused to let you go, causing you to slightly misjudge how far away you were from it and go tumbling down onto the sheets, giggling into each other as you fell.

You guided her onto her back, pulling your shirt off as she desperately pulled hers off, dragging you back down while your arms were still wrapped up in its sleeves. You struggled to pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the floor while she trailed kisses down your neck.

Your hand slipped under the waistband of her pants, and you gently slid your fingers inside her. She was so wet they slid inside with no resistance, her walls fluttering around your fingers.

You kissed your way down her body, pulling her pants off as you went. As you did, you found something you hadn’t known existed. A little white tail sat right above her ass.

“What’s this?” you asked as you shifted her onto her side to get a better look.

She rolled back onto her back, hiding the tail from sight once more. “Don’t be mean,” she pouted.

“I’m not! It’s cute.”

You leaned down to press kisses into her thigh as she tried to pull you up where she wanted you.

Eventually you gave in to her pleas, your fingers continuing to crook upwards inside of her as you pressed gentle kisses to her clit. She bucked into your face, wanting more.

You hooked your arms around her plush thighs to get her even closer to you, focusing more of your attention on her clit as she started to squirm, lapping and sucking at it. As she got closer to her climax her thighs squeezed around your head and you were convinced you might be in heaven. Your hips pushed down into the sheets as you worked her through her orgasm.

Your hand slipped down to try and provide yourself with some friction but it wasn’t enough. You needed her, needed her to touch you.

As if answering your prayers, Posy pulled you up and kissed you deeply, licking her own taste out of your mouth.

She flipped you over, pinning you against the mattress, her bare chest warm and soft against yours as her fingers dove inside of you, her palm pressing down against your clit.

You were embarassingly close already, her soft touches bringing you right up to the edge.

Her fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, swallowing all of your moans as she guided you towards your peak. You pulled away from the never-ending kiss and buried your face in her neck as you came, rolling your hips as waves of pleasure radiated out from your core.

After you came down you collapsed, your head resting on her chest. Her hand was caressing your cheek as she smiled down fondly at you.

“Was the kiss just like you wanted?” you asked.

“It was with you so yes, it was.”

“You big sap,” you said with a laugh.

A wave of exhaustion hit you and you were glad you were already in bed, using Posy as your own personal pillow as you got some much needed rest.

You woke up to the sound of pounding at your door.

The first instinct from your half-asleep brain was to ignore it and go back to sleep, snuggled into Posy’s side.

The sound of a fist slamming against the wood continued ceaselessly and you could make out the muffled noises of the person outside shouting. The second you heard the word traps you sprung up, throwing clothes on and ushering Posy out of sight.

She picked up on your panic immediately, glancing anxiously at the door as you tucked her away.

“What the fuck do you want?” you hissed as you threw the door open.

Your attitude towards the hunters wasn’t pleasant on a good day but now, after you’d been taking care of Posy for weeks, you’d never felt angrier.

“I want you to stop messing with my shit, that’s what I fucking want,” he shot back. “Do you think we didn’t know it was you? You’ve become a real pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Not my fault if you can’t trap prey to save your life, maybe get better at hunting and stop blaming me for your shitty haul.”

“We found blood coming from one of our traps, you know. After a few feet, the trail went cold. Like someone covered it up.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’re hunting intelligent creatures, sometimes they outsmart you and your shit-for-brains friends.”

He lurched towards you and you instinctively drew back towards the shut door of your cabin.

As you did, you saw a familiar face peek through the curtain and panic shot through you, endlessly worried they’d spot her. You talked a big game but if it came down to a straight up fight you didn’t like your odds.

“Listen,” you said, knowing you needed to end this as quickly as you could. “You’re not the only one with a hunting riffle. I advise you to stay away from here or that camouflage you’re wearing may end up being a defense of mine. Now please get the fuck off of my property.”

You were bluffing, you didn’t have a hunting riffle. But at the end of the day, you didn’t need one. All you needed was for him to believe you.

His wide eyes and nervous glance back at your home told you that he did.

“Bitch,” he spat at you as he began his retreat.

As he drew out of sight, you slipped inside, careful not to open the door anymore than you needed to.

You locked the door and immediately whipped around and looked for Posy.

She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, her legs curled inwards and tears streaming down her face. She was visibly shaking and clutching her leg and you got the sense she’d collapsed from her spot at the window.

You grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped her up, pulling her into you. Her breaths were coming fast and you just held her, pressing gentle kisses into her forehead and rubbing the base of her ears while whispering soft reassurances to her.

You slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket and gently unwound the bandages from the leg she was clutching, trying to show her what you’d been putting off mentioning for days, what you couldn’t help but notice every time you changed her bandages.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re all healed up. Look,” you said as you revealed her leg, covered in scars but functionally healed. “You’re fine. They can’t get you in here, you’re okay. You’re all healed up and I’ll never let them touch you again, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Her shaky breaths got slower as she started to calm down, her hand tenuously reaching down to touch her old wounds.

She slowly calmed down, her hand grasping a handful of your shirt as if she was afraid you’d leave her. You had no plans on doing so, keeping her as close as you could.

You did your best to cheer her up, to show her that things really were getting better. “Hey, on the bright side, your legs all healed up. You should be able to leave soon, go back home.”

“What?”

“You’re fine now, you should be able to walk. We can get you back home.” You focused on keeping a pleasant smile on your face, on not showing her how distraught you were of thinking about her leaving, about this place being empty, about not having Posy to come home to.

“Oh. Okay.”

She didn’t speak much after that. You left her alone for days, wanting to give her space to recover, ignoring that nagging feeling in your gut screaming at you to just say something. You refused to push. You would wait for her to speak first, to make the first move.

She never did.

Against your better judgment, you left her alone again, setting off to undo as many traps as you could once more.

When you got back she was gone.

Panic immediately bloomed in your chest, convinced that someone had gotten to her, that she’d been taken.

The pile of clean bandages wadded up and thrown in your trash indicated otherwise.

Maybe you shouldn’t chase after her. Maybe this was what she wanted, to go home to her family and forget all of this. Maybe this was her way of saying she didn’t want to see you again.

You barely even had time to process any of those thoughts before you took off running.

She hadn’t been careful. Her trail was easy to follow, much easier than it should have been.

You were out of breath when you came upon her. You knelt in front of her sobbing form, making sure she wasn’t hurt before you spoke.

“Hey, what… what’s going on? Why did you run, what’s happening?”

She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You dont want me.”

“What?”

“You were just waiting for me to heal and now you want me to leave. I thought you really wanted me.”

“I do! I want you to stay, I thought you would want to leave.”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“To go back to your family, back home. You’re not like me, you have people to go back to.”

“You’re my people. Wait, so you’ll let me stay.”

“Let you? Posy, I want you to stay, I’ve been dreading you leaving ever since you showed up. Besides, with you gone who else would I sav-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, it being cut short as the wind was knocked out of you when she tacked you, knocking you on your back as her arms wrapped around you. You could feel her massive smile as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck, kissing you every time she managed to suppress her smile for a moment.

She sat up suddenly, her thighs on either side of your waist, keeping you trapped where you lay. Her ears were perked up as she grinned down at you

She started talking a mile a minute, the excitement taking over her. “I can take you to meet everyone one of these days, when hunting season is over. I’ll get to show you off. Oh, and I can forage for you. Then you’ll find out how gross all your food is. ”

You snorted. “Posy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get up please?”

“Oh. Right, yeah of course.” She helped you to your feet, still eagerly making plans as she grabbed your hand, tugging you behind her as you both headed back home.

#terato #terato writing #jackalope hybrid #bunny hybrid #monster x reader #monster x human #monster girlfriend #monster gf #Disclaimer: do not actually use alcohol to clean a wound #you are not meant to do that despite what fiction has told you #This is a day late #terribly sorry for breaking my promise </3 #This was actually supposed to be the first fic I posted on this blog #It has taken one million years to write lol #As far as the more stilted talking Posy does #I did develop some very fundamental grammar rules for her native language #So that’s why her speech is kind of stilted at the start

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