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satoruxx · 2 months

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PARACOSM OF THE GODS.

PAIRING: gojo satoru x f!reader, geto suguru x f!reader | 11.5k words

SUMMARY: ok here we go, canon au, angst, fluff, best friends being in love, stsg being whipped but unable to express it, reader is clueless as usual, timeskips, canon compliant deaths, bittersweet, longing, mutual pining, emotionally stunted teens, dad!gojo makes an appearance, hopefully that’s it i'm tired of typing

RHEYA'S NOTE: highkey lowkey stressed posting bc this has been sitting in my wips for 4 years now. i honestly didn't have to add much to it i basically just proofread. but yeah when you maladaptive daydream and create a plot where you're a character in jjk and you're also in love with gojo and geto this is what happens. a little sad to let this go but it's time !! plus i can add more parts later. but anyways pls lmk what you think, i'm super curious to know <33

i. the unknown

satoru's first impression of you is anything but kind.

his words come casually, free into the wind without care, and they aren't meant for you to hear. instead, they fall only to suguru's ears, evoking a deep chuckle and a slight shake of his head. his bangs swish a little with the movement, but satoru is too busy eyeing you over the frame of his shades to notice.

you're lucky to have not heard it, because the intent with which it was said would have probably made your brow tick with frustration. he says it without a thought, as if he hasn't the slightest bit of interest in you as hints of arrogance fill his tone.

"who's the rookie?"

satoru and suguru sit outside against the patio railings of the classroom they had chosen for the day. it overlooks the grounds of the school, where they have a clear view of who approaches the main entrance. suguru absentmindedly clicks his lighter—shoko had gone to get another pack of cigarettes.

it is from this higher point that they have a clear view of you. you're so obviously new to this, satoru thinks as he watches how you awkwardly stand in front of yaga sensei.

he already wants to label you as a side character. it's mean, he realizes—cruel even, but he can barely bring himself to care.

"yaga sensei mentioned that there'd be a new student joining us this week," suguru says, fingering the bangs hanging in front of his eyes. they roam over you with only slight interest before uttering your full name, just as his teacher had said it.

satoru repeats it with a hum. "not a big name or anything. a small-sized family of sorcerers i think." he shrugs carelessly. "but honestly i never really paid attention to all those stupid clan and jujutsu family lessons."

suguru only responds with a good-natured chuckle, tearing his eyes away from the scene to look at his friend. "no shit."

the two sit in quiet silence, watching yaga's lips move in structured, emotionless greetings as he shakes your hand. satoru is especially focused on the hunching of your shoulders and the way your eyes nervously dart around.

suguru is the first to interrupt the peace.

"maybe she's strong?"

"are you kidding?" satoru scoffs as he stands up straight, shoving his fists into his pockets. he turns his nose up slightly. "that's not the attitude of someone who's confident in their abilities."

ii. routine

"can i ask you guys a question?"

a cool breeze tickles your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake, and you suppress a shiver. the smell of the air tells you winter is fast approaching.

"you just did," satoru hums, his snowy hair splayed out against stems of green grass. suguru's chuckle reverberates deep in his chest, and you have to push back an exasperated smile.

"another one then," you press, leaning over satoru's face to force yourself into his view. his blue eyes pierce through yours over the dark-rimmed frames of his glasses, and even after seeing them so many times, they still feel as dominating as the first. he hums again, and you take that as your cue.

"what did you first think of me when we met all those months ago?"

satoru sits up quickly, and you can already feel your shoulders dropping when you catch a glimpse of the teasing smirk on his lips. he shifts so that he's directly facing you, leaning close so that the two of you are barely a palm's distance from one another.

"thought you were an annoying little rookie~" he sings and you immediately shove at his shoulder.

"'m not a rookie anymore," you huff, and satoru laughs joyously. suguru only grins, his eyes darting between the two of you happily. satoru moves himself into a proper sitting position, digging his long fingers into your bag of chips and popping one into his mouth. you swat at his hand, even though you don't mean it, because though you complain about gojo satoru all the time, you would give him the whole world if you could.

you and satoru take turns reaching into the bag. you wonder if the sound of crunching disturbs suguru. he's not asleep—he's just doing that thing where he keeps his eyes closed and escapes to his own land of tranquility. you'd like to give him as much peace as you can, so you stay quiet. satoru does too, but you think that's just because you aren't talking to him.

the quiet is nice when you're with them. sometimes silence makes you feel alone—paranoid. it feels like there is some impending doom hovering over your shoulder, and all you can do is wait for it to come. but with them it is different. you know that any danger in the quiet will be caught by the two of them. maybe that's why it's so easy to let your guard down around them. you trust that they won't let you die.

"i thought you were weak," satoru pipes up after a few minutes of silence. "you didn't seem like you were confident in your abilities, and that's a sign of weakness."

after spending so much time with satoru and suguru, the word weak has permeated almost every one of your conversations. later you learned how much more significant it was for them to label someone as strong. you chase after the word—crave it.

"and turns out that wasn't true." suguru adds with a smile, his head leaning back against the trunk of the tree. his eyes are still closed serenely and you wonder if he can feel the way you're gazing at him.

"yeah and now you act like some big hotshot," satoru grumbles, as though he doesn't want to admit to his old mistake, but you can hear his smile. it annoys you, the way his once degrading little nickname has now somewhat turned into a term of endearment. you would rather die than admit that you like hearing him say it.

"well, I'm glad that i was able to prove you both wrong."

the conversation ends there.

shoko returns a few minutes later, tossing you a can of soda and suguru a pack of cigarettes. as soon as she sits down in her spot under the tree you're forcing your head into her lap and kicking your feet onto satoru's legs. you ignore his complaints, because you know that in just a little bit he'll quiet down and his hand will rest over your ankle, fingers soft but firm. they'll occasionally drum some rhythmic tune, or draw nonsensical patterns against your skin.

shoko's fingers thread through your hair, just like they always do, and you know that in a few minutes you'll doze off in her lap, just like you always do. it's clockwork, this thing that you have with them. they make the days keep going—time doesn't stop for you.

a part of you wishes you could freeze time at that moment.

but you can't.

iii. halcyon

"hey suguru?"

"hm?"

"how come you always do your hair the same way?"

suguru glances up from his book. he's seated at your desk, and for a minute, the breeze pushes your curtains so that they block your view of him. satoru groans lightly from your left, turning on his side to snuggle deeper into your pillow, and slumber overtakes him once more. him and shoko remain quiet, faces free of worry as they dream in a land that is so unlike the real world you live in.

"what do you mean?" suguru asks in response to your question. he has an amused smile on his face as he places his book on your desk, though his thumb and pointer finger keep his page.

"well…" you suddenly feel stupid for asking, but he's looking at you so intently now. "you have such nice hair. you could style it in so many different ways."

"are you saying you don't like my hair the way it is?" he frowns.

"no no!" you scramble, shaking your head emphatically. quite the opposite actually you think he's so so attractive—how on earth did you screw this up so badly? "that's not it i just—"

he laughs, tilting his head fondly. "i'm just messing with you, hotshot."

you blanch, before crossing your arms with a huff. "asshole…"

he chuckles, before lifting a calloused hand up to finger the tie that holds his hair in a bun. he glances back at you, before a michevious smile settles on his face. he gives the tie one sharp tug, and the bun falls away. black hair drops, resting on his shoulders, and you stare at him—oddly parched. wind brushes through the open window, tickling your curtains, tickling his now open hair. you had seen his hair down before, of course. in the few seconds after a sparring session when the bun had gotten loose, or when too many strands escaped the tie and fell in front of his face (he always pushed them away with an agitated huff). but now he looks different—good, you realize. he looks good.

"how should i style it then, hotshot?"

his question shakes you out of your daze. you hum in contemplation. "i don't know."

he laughs quietly, as to not wake the other two. "didn't you just say there were so many ways to style it? enlighten me then," he teases, reaching over to grab a small scrap of paper from your desk. he slots it where his fingers are holding place, and then closes the book. he swivels in the chair to face you completely, rolling over so that he's right in front of you.

"well…" you start, biting your lip in thought. "a ponytail maybe?"

suguru bunches his hair into his fist, holding it up against his head. "and? how do i look?"

you grin, eyeing the new style with a stifled laugh. "fantastic."

he laughs again, louder this time, before dropping his hand.

"it looked good though!" you laugh and he rolls his eyes fondly.

"yeah yeah," he dismisses with a wave of his hand. he looks back at you, eyes tracing over your hair before he grins wide.

"i like yours."

you blink. "mine?"

"the way you did your hair today," he points to the half up-half down style you've thrown together. a dark blue ribbon holds the hair in place—satoru had said it matched nicely with your uniform. suguru's eyes gleam as he appraises it. "it's nice. it looks really pretty on you."

something in your chest feels like it fell off a cliff.

"oh—" you stumble, before smiling at him because that's all you can do when he makes you feel like this. "thanks suguru."

"do mine like that," he says quickly.

once again, you blink owlishly and all you can manage is a stupid "huh?"

"do my hair like that," he repeats, getting up from the chair to sit at your feet, back towards you. he crosses his legs and puts his hands in his lap, patiently waiting.

"you can't do it yourself?" you tease, scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

"i can," he replies and you can hear the easy smile in his voice. "but i want you to do it for me."

"okay then!" you laugh before gently parting sections of his hair out. and then you work in silence, putting more effort into his hair than you've ever done with your own.

iv. fragility

"lady riko does not have any relations. when she was young, her family was involved in an accident…since then, i've been her caretaker. so please let her at least spend time with her fr—"

"—so that makes you her family then."

suguru's words seem to stun kuroi, the weight of riko's situation finally making itself clear as her face crumbles.

"…yes."

you listen to the way her voice wobbles, and try to suppress the poisonous lump forming in your throat.

"then we do everything we can to make her happy," you say solemnly, leaving no room for argument. suguru seems to agree and says nothing—some deeper part of you feels something more than thankful towards him.

"you're awfully sensitive for a jujustu sorcerer, you know that?" satoru comments offhandedly. you turn to look at him, meeting his piercing gaze over dark rims.

"maybe," you concur. "is that considered weak?"

satoru seems to ponder his answer, before shrugging, a light smile on his face. "to some people, maybe."

you manage to smile back, and he takes in the expression with an odd look on his face. "say what you want, satoru. but you agree with me, don't you?"

he looks away, eyes gazing out to the distance where you know riko is currently in class with her friends, trying to live the life she wants, and something in them softens considerably.

"we'll do things the way she wants us to."

it's one sentence, said without a smile or laugh, but hearing it fall from satoru's lips makes you beam at him.

that's just your kindness, isn't it, satoru?

your heart leaps when you notice the tips of his ears tinge with rouge.

v. longing

riko's hand is warm against the coolness of your fingers. your body feels hyperaware of your surroundings, toes deep in hot sand and salty air sticking to your skin. for some odd reason, you can't seem to relax. unconsciously, you tighten your grip around the young girl's palm. she glances up at you, but when you look down at her, she's wearing the biggest smile you've ever seen.

satoru's presence makes itself known behind you—his shadow looms over yours in the sand. "it'll be fine," he says.

you can't see his face, nor can you see suguru who stands at his side, but your shoulders drop slightly, and you find yourself smiling back at riko.

"i'm getting in the water!" she squeals eagerly, before dragging a helpless kuroi with her. satoru laughs—a clear, pristine sound—and follows after her. you watch the three of them with a fond smile, something akin to content settling deep within you.

"and what are you planning on doing?" suguru asks. you turn to look at him, watching the way his heavy eyes stay focused on you.

"hmm," you quirk a brow mischievously. "build sandcastles with me?"

suguru blinks owlishly before he breaks out into a good-natured laugh.

"deal." he walks closer to the water's edge, where the sand is damper, and crouches down. he turns to look at you over his shoulder. "don't make me do all the work, hotshot."

you stand there, taking him in—really taking him in. he's just as clear as the sky behind him, and the sun shining on his face makes his smile glow. you want him to continue smiling at you like that well into the future. the waves crash onto the shore, as though the ocean is chasing his radiance, and an overwhelming feeling of unfiltered affection swells in your chest.

your feet carry you forward, and you think that they might always lead you back to him.

the sun rises as time passes, and occasionally you spare a glance at satoru and riko, who are screaming as they splash water at one another. and then you catch a glimpse of kuroi, who stands with her feet in the water, a soft smile on her face.

and in that moment, nothing can be ruined.

"what's wrong?" suguru's voice calls out, and you tear your gaze away from the others to look back at him. he stands behind you with two strawberry ice cream cones in his hands.

"nothing," you hum, a serene smile on your face. "everything's perfect."

his eyes trace your face, stopping to linger on your smile, and they soften. "it is, isn't it?"

he turns to the ocean, watching satoru and riko, and his eyes sparkle. "i hope it stays like this always."

"me too."

he bends down to take his place at your side before he hands you a cone. you take it from him. suguru's eyes drift away from you to look down at his castle.

"i think it looks great," he expresses, before taking a lick of his ice cream.

you roll your eyes with a huff. "yeah, because you made it look so nice. you're unnecessarily good at this, suguru."

he laughs, waving his hand dismissively. "no no, we did it together! and yours is nice too!"

"maybe," you grin, looking at his castle. "but yours is extra pretty."

he smiles back, before pointing at a small hole in his sand tower. "see this room? it's yours."

"mine?" you chuckle.

"yeah, all yours," he hums softly. "this is my castle and you get your own room."

"oh? and why's that?"

suguru's gaze lingers on you, and his dark eyes soften considerably. "because you'll always have a place in my home."

you stare at him, speechless—something hammers away at the inner crevices of your chest.

"and this one—" he points to another hole a few inches away from the first. "—is my room."

"well in that case, that room is mine too!" you declare.

"what?" he barks out a laugh. "how does that work?"

"well…" you grin at him, the sun burning into your cheeks. "because my home is wherever you are!"

suguru's cheeky smile fades and his eyes widen. he looks at you, mouth agape, and you're about to say something else before sticky coolness trickles down your wrist.

"ack!" you hurry to wipe away the strawberry ice cream dripping down your skin and you completely miss the red that creeps up his neck and seeps into his ears.

vi. ice bath

shoko's fingers are unbelievably soft. you're grateful that you were unconscious through most of her procedures on your battered body—you don't think you would've handled the pain too well. she's quiet as she works over the large wound that now covers almost half of your torso. the man with the scar on his lip had done quite the number on you, and you don't think you'll ever forget the searing ache of his blade slicing through your flesh. he had left you in a bloodied pile, isolated, and you hadn't seen what had happened to suguru after the man shot riko. you could only lay there, vision swimming as a bitter taste filled your mouth—a reminder of the life you failed to protect.

the pain had been the only thing you could focus on, until satoru was on his knees at your side and tightly gripping your shoulders. your hazy focus was drawn to his lips as he spewed curses and insults at you.

"why didn't you run away, you little shit," he had shouted, a feral look in his eyes. there was something different about him—a change in his very being that you could see even in the throes of death. "shoko's coming, do you hear me? for fuck's sake, keep your eyes open, hotshot!"

you swore you saw his eyes shine behind that look of uncontrolled anger. he had been talking a mile a minute and your focus had waned until you could only see his lips move, no sound reaching your ears.

you've never thought satoru looked more godly than he did at that moment.

suguru eventually found his way into your field of vision—knelt at satoru's side. his large hand had squeezed your limp fingers in a death grip. he was sweating, and his eyes were darting back and forth between your pale face and bloodied torso, something akin to guilt swimming in them. you wished that you had the strength in you to squeeze his hand in return. the last thing you remember seeing is his dark hair falling in front of his face as he turned to shout at whoever was approaching.

now you're awake. disoriented and bleary, but awake, and all you can look at is the way shoko's bangs fall over her furrowed brows. she's taken care of the bleeding, and now all that's left is a dull throbbing, reminding you of how close you had toed the line with death. you don't know this yet, but the scar will remain for the rest of your life, and that dull throbbing will be a permanent reminder of your narrow escape.

shoko hasn't said a word since she noticed your eyelids flutter open. you want to ask her so many things. important things that cannot wait:

where's satoru? how about suguru? i saw them both. satoru's alive, right? and suguru, too? the man—with the scar. where did he go? he said that satoru—riko….where is riko? and—and kuroi…i—i..couldn't save riko. when did you get here, shoko? and why am i the only one who's being taken care of by you?

you want to ask her. but she's making a very odd expression as her hands ghost over your body. you've never seen it before, this odd quirking of her lips. her teeth sink into the bottom one, and she chews and bites and nibbles like it's some kind of nervous tell.

"shoko?"

it's all you can manage to say—all you dare. your voice is dry, shaky, and sounds almost foreign to your ears. you're going to ask more, at least one of those thousand questions you had asked in your head earlier, but you don't get to because she speaks before you.

"shut up," she spits, and the wobble in her voice has you pinching your lips shut and feeling closer to death than you did before.

vii. acid rain

the sound of clapping is deafening. you don't think you've ever heard a sound so horrid in your life before, and you feel as though your ears are bleeding heavily. you can faintly make out the conversation between satoru and suguru, your ears struggling to pick out the tones of their voices.

"no…" you hear suguru say quietly. "it doesn't matter if I'm fine…"

you can feel satoru's eyes roam over your motionless body, watching the way you gaze out into the crowd impassively.

"let's get out of here, guys."

your feet carry you numbly, and you aren't aware of anything except the way riko's arm is swinging in front of you lifelessly. there are no mirrors around—no way of catching the track of tears cutting over your cheeks. the places where the salt touches burn like acid. you say nothing.

satoru's gaze feels intrusive. he doesn't need to ask you anything—he just knows. it's like your body is radiating the emotions tumbling around in your gut.

you're awfully sensitive for a jujutsu sorcerer, you know that?

"do you want to…kill them all?"

the question stuns you, and for the first time, you can shake yourself out of your daze to look at satoru directly. blood is smeared over the left side of his face, cerulean eyes dimmed, as though something had pulled the shine out of them. red seeps into the fine hairs of his restless eyebrows.

"right now, i probably wouldn't even feel anything," he continues, staring at you listlessly.

you think satoru might be feeling just as numb as you are. you don't know what happened to him yet. the last you had heard, gojo satoru had been killed by the man with the scar. he had boasted about it to you before he attempted to kill you too. but then satoru was at your side again, completely alive as he ran your battered body to shoko like a crazed man.

you'll find out later who the man with the scar on his lip was, and what kind of legacy he had left behind. but for right now, all you see is a teenager with the weight of the world on his shoulders, and you know your answer.

satoru could help the pain go away; he'd be able to make the clapping stop—maybe then your ears wouldn't bleed anymore. but you couldn't ask that of him.

"forget it. it's pointless," suguru mutters, and you're glad he's on the same page as you. not because any of these people deserve pity, but because satoru deserves a break—one less burden for him to carry.

you hear suguru say more, but you can't focus. you continue to listen to the sound of the clapping, and once again lose yourself as you stare at riko's bloodied fingertips.

"pointless, huh?" satoru mumbles in response to suguru's answer. "does there need to be a reason?"

"of course. it's important," suguru's voice doesn't carry the same pleasant tone it always does. instead, it sounds strained, and tired beyond belief. unsure. "especially as jujutsu sorcerers."

satoru doesn't respond, but you know that he's measuring the weight of his friend's words. that's how it was with the two of them. they both balance each other out—their moral compasses influenced by one another. but then you feel satoru look up from riko's body and turn to you. suguru follows suit, and before you can wonder why, it hits you: satoru had asked you both.

you suck a deep breath in, feeling unusually breathless. the flesh of your stomach tingles with a painful reminder of what might've been, and you make up your mind.

"killing them won't change anything," you say, breaking your silence. the tears on your cheeks have dried, but they leave a rigid trail in their wake—a trail that still stings. "let's just leave it at that."

viii. fever dreams

satoru lies next to you.

a few nights have passed since riko's death, and you've chosen to stay holed up in your room. you're not sure why—death has always played a big role in your life. you don't understand why it's different this time.

tonight is different as well. while you've maintained a distance from everyone since that day, save for classes and passing by people on school grounds, today you've decided to let someone in. satoru's the lucky one, mostly because he would've pestered you until you opened your door for him anyway.

it's strange though. he had knocked over and over, and when you finally opened up with a snappy jab at his annoying personality, he had brushed straight past you and laid across your bed. he hadn't said a word since then, and you've found yourself lying next to him in silence for quite a while.

his hand stretches out in the darkness and you can feel his fingertips brush over the skin of your arm. it's delicate, like he's testing his limits, but you understand. it's just to ground himself—to know that you're still here, with him. to be sure that you're still alive.

you think the scar that goes down your body bothers him a lot more than it bothers you.

"'m here," you mumble sleepily. your fingers reach up to bump against his knuckles, and you hear him inhale deeply. his voice is throaty when he replies.

"i know."

ix. doubt

satoru learns that you've never been kissed before and he teases you for it.

not in a mean way, but in a way that has your cheeks heating and your eyes avoiding his. suddenly it feels like the gap between ages 16 and 17 is huge. he's barely even a year older than you and you're in the same year, but it feels as though he knows so much more about the world than you do. you want to ask suguru if it's bad that you've never had a kiss, but you don't. suguru rarely talks these days. sometimes he'll have conversations with you but won't look in your eyes when he speaks.

"hey listen, hotshot. if you don't get a kiss by…" satoru hums, an eager smile on his face as he swings an arm around your shoulders and contemplates his words. "…let's say 27, then i'll give one to you!"

there's an odd note of glee in his voice.

"shut up, toru," you groan, heat flooding your cheeks. "quit joking around."

he laughs loudly, pulling your cheek teasingly. "aw, i'm just playing. it's not a bad thing i promise!"

your shoulders relax slightly as the snowy-haired sorcerer continues to speak.

"i just thought that you would've kissed someone by now," he shrugs. "wasn't there that one guy you went on a few dates with? the one you met when we went to yokohama?"

there's an almost sour expression on his face as he speaks, but you're too frustrated to care. "just because i went on a couple of dates with him doesn't mean i kissed him!"

a broad teasing smile appears on satoru's face. "is that so?"

"ugh, i'm only 16!" you hiss, shoving him away from you. "besides i'm saving it for someone special!"

"good," you hear suguru speak up, and you turn to look at him. his fingers are interlocked, elbows resting on his knees, and he's staring down at his hands like they hold the answers to some deep questions he has. "it is something irreplaceable after all."

x. shadow

satoru's grin is proud as he stands before the three of you, his loose shirt billowing in the summer breeze.

you stare at him, heart thumping as shoko lets out a confused gasp. "huh? what the hell was that?"

"did it automatically choose the target for your technique?" suguru asks.

"yep!" satoru stresses the word, spinning the pencil suguru had thrown as he explains. "though i am the target. i've pretty much automated what i used to have to do manually."

your head is spinning.

"now i can tell an object's danger levels based the strength of its cursed energy, its speed, mass, velocity, shape—whatever. i want to be able to discern poisons too but that's pretty hard right now." satoru's voice is even when he explains, though you can make out the hints of pride that permeate his tones. you think his voice has gotten a little deeper too. "basically this is gonna allow me to keep my limitless technique active all the time!"

"that's gonna fry your brain!" shoko interjects, shaking her hair out of her eyes.

"yeah but i can do it while i continuously generate energy on my own. that way my brain stays fresh."

you can't help but let out an amused scoff. "what brain?"

satoru chucks the eraser at you, and you laugh as it bounces off your shoulder harmlessly.

"i've been working on shortening my hand signals so i can activate red and blue simultaneously." he continues, lips twitching upward as he gives you an exaggerated glare. "after this the only things i need to work on are domain expansion and long-distance teleportation. which i should be able to do if we set up some training courses here at school."

you think if someone examined you closely, they would see the stars in your eyes when you look at satoru.

"shoko~" he calls out, grinning eagerly. "think you could get me some lab rats?"

shoko groans as satoru bounds over to pester her more emphatically. you watch him, thinking you've never seen a person quite so magnificent.

god personified into a 17-year-old body. and yet it is a body that stays so close to you—well within your reach. maybe there's nothing so godly about that at all.

"don't you get tired of getting stronger and stronger, jeez?" you complain, crossing your arms as you raise a brow at him. satoru wets his lips as he throws you a smug smile.

"don't worry hotshot, you'll catch up to me someday!" he gives you an exaggerated wink over the frames of his glasses, and you shake your head somewhat fondly.

"no way! i never want to be at your level," you huff. "i'm very comfortable living in your shadow, thank you very much!"

a strange look passes over his face, almost puzzled, but the dip in his brows melts away as he approaches you. "well—" he slings an arm over your shoulder. "if my shadow makes you happy then you're more than welcome to stay there."

you don't have time to reply. pale lashes flutter at you—a backdrop of cerulean. you think white and blue may be the prettiest combination of colors in the world.

"suguru?" satoru's voice is casual, yet the amusement has dropped from it. his arm is heavy around your shoulders. "have you lost weight? are you okay?"

you look up, seeing tired eyes behind dark stands of hair. suguru's cheekbones are prominent, and you have the sudden urge to reach out and trace your fingers over them.

his lips twitch upward weakly. "it's just the summer heat…"

his lavender eyes drift to your face as he says it, and he tilts his head as he scrutinizes your worried expression. "…i'll be fine."

xi. hellfire

you hear suguru before you see him.

his breaths come loud as he pushes the door to the morgue open, the metal clanging heavily. his eyes bore into your back, taking in your clenched fists and raised shoulders that seem to tremble.

you wonder who told suguru you'd be here. maybe nanami, who was here not long ago, and had sent you a text that merely said: the mission went badly.

or maybe it was satoru, who had been chatting with you near the entrance of campus when he saw the myriad of emotions pass over your face as you read the text. he had probably called suguru as soon as you left.

it doesn't matter—you can't bring yourself to care.

you can only think about the way haibara had smiled at you before he left that morning.

now that smile is covered by a dirty white sheet, and you can't tear your eyes away from it. the taste of blood and vomit is heavy on your tongue.

suguru says your name quietly. you can't even look at him—you're scared that you'll cry if you do.

you don't ever want to cry in front of him. or satoru—so weak in front of those who are so strong.

"he asked if i wanted to go with them and i said no because i was lazy," you hiss, teeth clenched as you spit out the words with venom. "if i had just stopped thinking about myself for a second—"

your fingers dig into the flesh of your palms—deep, deep, deeper.

you hear suguru click his tongue, and his hands wrap around yours. he yanks your fingers apart fiercely, thumbs smoothing over the bloodied indents you've made in your own skin. you tear your eyes away from the body to finally look at him.

"don't—" his breath catches as his thumbs still over your flesh, eyes going hard as he takes in the blood.

he blurs in and out of focus. his head whips up when he hears you sniffle, and his lips slant ruefully. "you—"

"i'm fine," you interrupt, blinking pointedly and taking a deep breath. "it's fine—i mean it's not fine—but i c—"

"stop." suguru grabs your shoulders, giving you an even stare. you don't know how you didn't notice it before, but he looks thinner, older. there are dark circles under his eyes—poison seeping into his skin. "you need to rest."

you stare back at him silently, but you don't feel like you agree. something about this is making you feel restless, like there is so much you need to make up for. his grip tightens, before he's wordlessly leading you to take a seat—he finds his place next to you.

"satoru took over the mission." he stares at the lifeless body on the table as he speaks. you lower your gaze.

"and nanami?" your throat feels like it's closing. suguru inhales deeply.

"he went back to the dorms."

"okay."

you try to figure out if there is any meaning in having this conversation. despite everything, weren't you expected to wake up tomorrow morning and head out on a mission once more? and when you return, you're sure that there'll be another faceless body taking haibara's place.

the cycle continues—clockwork. it scares you, just how replaceable you are.

haibara, nanami, you, another, nameless—interchangeable.

not like satoru. not like suguru. not like the strong.

you lean your head against suguru's shoulder, fingering the hem of your uniform skirt. the fabric is cool to the touch—it seems darker, heavier. heat radiates from the body next to you, and there's something about him that's making your stomach churn with nerves. "suguru?"

his voice sounds far away. "hm?"

"are you okay?"

he stiffens and you suddenly fear you've said too much—nosy, intruding, out of place. you stumble. "it's just, we haven't talked much lately."

"i'm fine," he answers, and you can hear a smile in his voice—whether it's real or fake you can't tell. "just a little tired."

you know there is truth to this. but it scares you, how this tiredness of his has lingered for months. you don't know how to tell him that.

"okay…" your voice is barely a whisper, heavy with unspoken words that you don't know how to formulate. somehow you find that silence has always been your only option.

but like usual, silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable.

haibara's smile burns behind your eyelids.

"it should be a relatively simple mission. if you're not doing anything today senpai, would you like to come with us?"

his voice tickles your ears.

"that's alright! i'll get going then! oh right, today's mission is a little farther than usual, so we'll probably be back late! what would you like me to bring back for you?"

hypoxia crushes your lungs, your blood burns. selfish selfish selfish. you've only ever cared about yourself.

suguru's arm curls around your shoulder before you even realize you're crying. his palm is warm as it smooths over your hair, and all you can worry about tainting him with your ridiculous tears.

you don't ever want to burden him—just want to quietly live in his shadow.

"i don't—" you internally cringe at the throaty rasp of your voice, swiping a hand at your nose. "i shouldn't be so sensitive about—"

"it's not your fault." he quietly hushes you, grip tightening imperceptibly. through your tears you can see him adam's apple bob, and for some reason that makes you feel worse. you're too scared to look at his expression, even though his voice is resolute. "none of this is our fault."

something has changed in the way he speaks now. something has settled, a confirmation of some idea that has been brewing for a long time now.

you don't say another word, but somehow he manages to sear himself into your very being. he's warm, and fuzzy, and he smells like sandalwood and incense.

you don't know how long suguru let's you pathetically sob into his shoulder.

but you think you're embarrassed that he has taken pity on a wounded animal's cries.

xii. split

he looks different, but also the same. you've seen him wear that sweater before. it's plain black, no patterns, and you know that there's a loose string on the inside of the left sleeve that he was always too lazy to cut. you've always liked that sweater—always liked the way he looked in it.

you liked it so much that you've even stolen it a few times yourself.

but now it looks different. older and dirtier—as though soiled by some unknown curse.

that's what everything came down to, right? curses.

suguru stands in front of you, almost no trace of emotion on his handsome face, and his expression makes you want to turn and run. you miss the calm serenity that normally graced his features, wishing that you had some kind of cursed technique that could turn back time. but you aren't blessed like that—you wonder what sin you might've committed in a past life that made you so unlucky in this one.

"you look confused," he comments. you reel at how casually he speaks to you, like it's just another afternoon sitting under that stupid tree. like he's leaning his head back against the trunk and watching you and satoru bicker with that fond look in his eye.

"suguru," you speak, an odd strain in your voice. you struggle to comprehend this odd turn of events. you've had time to understand that he's now a different person than the one you once knew. you know that he's responsible for killing 112 innocents, including his own parents. you know that he's now an enemy to jujutsu society and you know that you should kill him right at this moment.

but he looks so much like suguru, like your suguru, that you can only manage to stand there, frozen in place. his eyes drift over your body, taking in your pajamas, the bath towel in your hands, and the small drops that trickle from your hair, and you can see the familiarity settle in his expression.

"why are you here?" you choke out. you feel an overwhelming sense of danger in your gut, knowing that your family is just a few rooms over from where he stands now.

"at your family home, you mean?" he asks casually. a small, almost amused smirk appears on his face. "you said i was always welcome."

you did say that. sometime last year or the year before, when you had invited satoru, suguru, and shoko over to visit during one of your quick holidays. suguru had sat across from you at your dinner table. he complimented the food and your father smiled one of his rare smiles. you had chewed quietly to hide your grin.

you don't know what to say to him now.

"everything they said about you," you whisper, taking a step toward him. he remains rooted in place, but his eyes follow your movements. they shift when he catches your fingers gripping your towel tighter. "is it true?"

"do you think it is?" he asks, and you gulp. it feels like he's baiting you into some kind of trap.

"i don't want to believe that it is," you answer, voice shaking. "that you would ever do something so…"

the sentence hangs in the air, and he tilts his head imperceptibly. something in his eyes changes as he focuses on the drops falling over your shoulders.

"well i'm sorry to squash your hope," he raises his arms in a shrug. "but everything you heard is completely true."

your head aches, but you're not surprised by his confirmation. "why would you…?"

suguru hums, a dark look falling over his face. "do you remember the conversation we had after haibara's funeral? do you remember what i told you when he died?"

anger flares in your gut at the mention of haibara, and the bath towel crumples in your hold. "don't say his name," you hiss through gritted teeth. "don't act like he's the reason—just…don't bring him into this. please."

suguru licks his lips, eyes going soft before he tries again.

"everything used to make sense back then," he sighs. "back when the strong existed to protect the weak. but it's not true."

"suguru—"

"the reason why we suffer is because of them," he interjects evenly, though frustration is clearly evident in the curve of his brows and the volume of his voice. "we clean up their messes. they create problems and we die for it."

you're stunned into silence, at the way he's raising his voice at you, at the way he's speaking so firmly about this horrible topic, at everything. he seems to realize the effect of his speech, and he quells his anger to speak quieter. "that's why i'm doing this. i'm going to create a world without non-sorcerers, so that sorcerers like you and i can live peacefully."

a lump forms in your throat because god, he's right. he's so right. your life would be a thousand times better without curses. non-sorcerers were the reason curses existed. but the way he's going about this…

"suguru," your voice shakes, but you press on. "i get it. i really do—"

"i know you do," he interrupts. "you always have. even back then…"

he takes a step closer to you, reaching out to finger the towel in your hands. "but you don't agree with the way i'm doing it, right?"

you bite your lip, and he smiles at the sadness in your expression. "you're so easy to read, hotshot."

you ignore the way the nickname stings. "i just—how could you kill innocent people like that? your own parents, suguru."

he looks away from you, steely resolve in his eyes. "if i made exceptions for my parents, that would kinda make me a hypocrite, wouldn't it?"

you don't know what to say to that. he doesn't seem to have anything else to add either.

he looks around your old bedroom, eyes sparkling as they catch a picture of the four of you from your first year. satoru's arm is slung around shoko. the dark-haired female has her elbow resting on your shoulder, her tongue sticking out playfully. you're clinging to suguru's arm, and satoru's free hand is squishing your cheeks together. the four of you are laughing.

nobody has laughed in a while now.

you tear your gaze away from the picture frame to look at him. he's so unbelievably close, and he's gazing down at you with this foreign look in his eyes, the picture forgotten behind him.

he slips his fingers into your hair. his palm is large enough that it can brush the side of your face, and you wonder why your body doesn't flinch away from those bloodstained hands.

"it's okay," he mumbles, a faraway look in his eyes. they remain trained on your hair, but it feels like he's looking straight through you. like you're nothing more than a ghost he wants to erase. he's so close—you can count his dark lashes as they brush against his cheeks. "it's difficult. i don't expect you to understand."

his words incite a sudden flare of anger in your gut. it burns something fierce, and in that moment you hate him.

"no, i don't," you reply indignantly. he pauses, now really looking at you, and his brows quirk upward in what seems to be surprise, because—well, he's never seen you make such an expression at him before. "you never tried to help me understand. you just left."

a strained silence follows. his fingers twitch against your cheek.

"this doesn't concern you," he says finally. "i don't need you to understand my actions."

you recoil, as though he's physically hurt you, and your expression falls so hard that it almost makes him regret saying it. almost.

"if it doesn't concern me, then why are you here?" you ask again, and you see suguru's shoulders drop. "you know that i have orders to kill you. i might not be able to because you've always been stronger than me. but you know that i'll…"

go down fighting you, is what you want to say, but the words leave a nasty taste in your mouth. but suguru seems to know what you're implying because a wry smile appears on his lips. his fingers twirl a strand of your wet hair.

"i'm here to say goodbye," he says finally. another tense silence fills the space between you both, and suguru can see the way your fingers shake between the folds of your towel.

"you're a little bit late for that, aren't you?" you choke out, a strange tilt to your voice as you break eye contact with him. "you left school weeks ago, and you didn't say a word to me then."

"better late than never, right?"

the softness in his tone makes you turn to look at him again, and you desperately want to ingrain the features of his face into your head. the gentle slope of his eyes and sweetness of his smile. he almost looks like the suguru you once knew, and you suddenly have the urge to mourn his death.

his face becomes blurry, the edges becoming less pronounced, and you can see the way his expression falls.

"i didn't come all the way here to make you cry." his hand drops from your face and he takes a step back. your fingers hurry to wipe at your waterline, and you shake your head.

"'m not crying."

suguru smiles ruefully, and his eyes suddenly look devoid of life. he takes another step back—your heart plummets.

he says your name once, quietly, and it hangs in the air as you wait for him to say more.

he doesn't.

"you know that I'm not supposed to let you leave alive, right?" you mumble, fingers toying with the towel in your hand. "but i can't—i mean—"

"hm," he chuckles. "still as sensitive as ever, huh? s'okay…"

he moves toward you again and his hand gently cups the back of your neck. "i think it's your best quality. makes you better than most people in our world."

he presses his lips to your forehead tenderly, and you feel your eyes widen behind your tears.

you probably could've stopped him, because you're aware that he's now suddenly behind you, and that he's raising his hand. you can stop him, but a part of you thinks that if it's death at suguru's hands, maybe it's not such a bad way to go.

you accept your fate then and there.

you'll find out later that suguru never had the intention to kill you then. perhaps he was waiting for a more opportune time, waiting for there to be a meaning behind it. you're not sure. but when you wake up tucked in your bed cozily, you'll feel the remnants of him lingering around you.

he was warm, and fuzzy, and he smelled like sandalwood and incense.

xiii. sanctify

satoru's at your door again.

you've memorized his knock patterns. he always knocks three times, then leaves a pause, then twice more. for someone so erratic, he can be quite predictable.

"what's up, satoru?" you call out, not looking up from your busy hands. there are a couple of empty cardboard boxes open on your bed, and you've been placing things into them all morning. things that should've been put away a long time ago. you pause on one of your old test papers, and in suguru's dark, blocky handwriting you read:

YOU GOTTA STUDY MORE DUMBASS.

underneath it, satoru had scrawled:

hotshot failing class now huh? :P

and shoko had added:

both of you stfu you're failing too

you had drawn a heart next to her name.

"whatcha doin'?" a familiar voice chirps. "spring cleaning?"

satoru stands directly behind you, peering over your shoulder. you can practically feel his aura shift when he notices the items you're putting away.

"cleaning of some sort," you sigh, before turning to look over your shoulder. "i've been…putting it off."

he doesn't move—just continues to stare down at the paper in your hands. you think maybe you shouldn't have let him in. sometimes you forget that satoru might have his own sensitivities—you've always viewed him as the strongest.

a few strands of his hair tickle your cheek, and you scrunch your nose in response. he then turns to you, eyes blinding as he studies you over the frames of his shades.

"want help?"

"please." you don't intend to sound so needy, but the way you whisper the word has him immediately grabbing your wrist and sitting you down next to him on the bed.

"how are we sorting this stuff?" he asks, his voice oddly calm. he hasn't let go of your arm yet, and some quiet part of you is grateful.

"i was putting our old school stuff in that box. books, papers…" you answer softly, and satoru nods in understanding. "and in the other box…"

you inhale deeply through your nose. satoru waits, strangely patient. you're not sure if you're imagining it, but you think he squeezes your wrist.

"…are all of suguru's things."

there's a moment of silence—a quick mourning for what is no longer there.

"it's stupid stuff that he left behind, you know?" you chuckle, even though nothing is funny. "some old shirts from when you two would sleep over, his old textbooks, a few pictures from our holidays—shit like that."

satoru hums. he's not looking at you—instead he's staring at the box, a frown on his face.

"i guess he didn't really need those things for where he was going. or for wherever he is now," you mumble.

"guess not."

you're not sure what's going through his head. satoru's reaction to suguru leaving had been chaotic at best. it was so hard to tell how he felt about it. you knew he was angry, confused, betrayed. but he never showed things like that. you think it might have to do with being the strongest. you're not sure though—you never were strong like him.

you wish there was a way to tell him that he could share his feelings with you, but you can't think of a way that won't be awkward.

a ticklish sensation crawls up your wrist and you look down to watch satoru's first two fingers tap against the inside of your palm. his thumb brushes against yours as he lets out a heavy exhale.

"let's get started then, hotshot."

he looks down at you as he says the words, and you think you might cry. but you want to be strong, like him, so you offer him a smile. he gives you one in return. you realize there isn't that much warmth in it, not like it used to have—you're sure that yours isn't that warm either.

but it's enough for the two of you.

"you look tired, toru," you chuckle wryly, reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from his face. his eyes flutter at the touch, and you honestly think this might be the most vulnerable you've ever seen him.

"so do you."

"i am," you admit honestly.

"'s okay," he mumbles. his fingers tap against your palm once more. "'m here."

"i know," you answer. you always are.

nothing more is said as satoru stands up. he makes his way over to your desk and pulls one of suguru's old sweaters from your chair. you watch him fold it neatly, smoothing out the creases with care, before placing it into the box—you smile once more.

you think the scent of sandalwood tickles your nose, but it's gone in an instant.

both of you work in relative silence, sorting through the things in your room quickly. you're surprised at how bare it looks as you're nearing the end, as though there's nothing more to your life than old high school recollections.

you finish putting the last few polaroids into the box when satoru speaks up.

"hey."

you look up and find him staring at you, so you turn to face him completely, giving him your full attention.

"zenin toji—" the name sends a painful tingle up your body. "—left something behind."

you frown. "what are you talking about?"

"a kid. he's got a kid. and i was gonna go meet him today," satoru shrugs. you try to read his emotions, but as usual, he's giving you nothing. "the old man said something about the zenin clan buying up his kid before i killed him. i was gonna go see if there's something i could do about that."

you sigh before raising a brow, an amused lilt to your voice. "and why have you kept this a secret?"

satoru's trademark smirk appears, and he walks over to sling an arm around your shoulders. "who knows?" he quips nonchalantly. "guess i was waiting until we were bored. we need something to do now, don't we?"

you glance at the packed boxes on your bed, and then look around your empty room. everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

"i guess so," you grin. his eyes shine, and for a second you see a familiar teenager at the beach, and then a familiar teenager under an old tree. you think you hear waves, and the crinkling of a bag of chips.

"good," he chirps, walking you to the door, the arm around your shoulder secure. "his name's megumi, and we're gonna make sure he gets strong."

xiv. idyll

it takes you a little over four months to get used to megumi's eyes. they aren't unsettling or invading, like a certain snowy haired sorcerer, but they do give you chills when you first notice them. chills and a fleeting feeling of metal slicing up and down through your flesh. you just have to steady your breathing and remind yourself that the son is not the father.

tsumiki is an angel. you didn't think that kids that age could be so emotionally competent, but she's a pleasant surprise. she had been awfully protective over megumi, fidgeting with a firm hand on his shoulder as you and satoru invaded their space and upturned their lives. even after they had settled into the humble apartment satoru had purchased, tsumiki was still so overly cautious. it was obvious she still didn't trust either of you, but you thought it was admirable of her, and you relay this thought to satoru one day.

"think they hate us?" he asks, squishing his cheeks between his lithe fingers as he eyes the different milk cartons over the rims of his glasses.

"i'm pretty sure they just don't trust us that much," you reply, placing a few packs of instant ramen into the cart. "can you blame them? we're just random strangers who came up and basically kidnapped them."

"i'd like to say adopted!" he points out with a grin, before he sighs. "but we've already proved we're just doing this to help them. but they still barely talk at all."

"they're just being careful. megumi's still a little young and he looks like he doesn't give a shit about most stuff anyway," you chuckle as you remember the expression on the first grader's face as he spoke to your cocky friend. "and tsumiki's being cautious for both of them."

"she doesn't need to be cautious of us!" satoru dramatically whines, pulling out a carton of whole milk and placing it into the cart. you shiver as the cold air hits your skin, eyeing the sorcerer with an exasperated smile. he shuts the door with a huff. "i've been such a good dad!"

you roll your eyes, shoving his arm as he starts pushing the cart down the aisle. "she definitely should be cautious of you, you creep."

satoru looks down over his shoulder, appalled, though his eyes sparkle with mirth. "and why do you say that?"

"have you seen yourself? crazy 19 year old man that kidnaps kids," you mutter somewhat sarcastically, falling into step with him like it's normal. satoru grins at that—amused.

"i think it's pretty cool of her to be that responsible though," you continue, voice going softer as you think about them, and satoru hums in what you think might be agreement. you suddenly grab his arm, stopping him in his tracks and he turns to look at you.

"you think we should get another carton of milk?" you question, tilting your head at him. "megumi's been drinking it every day after he comes back from school and tsumiki said she wanted to try making milkshakes."

satoru blinks at you, eyes widening before an amused chuckle escapes his lips. you're about to ask what is so funny but he gestures back down the aisle. "go get some."

he waits for you as you go grab another carton, leaning against the cart easily. when you make it back and place the extra milk in the cart, satoru slings an arm around your shoulders. you raise a brow, but he just continues to push the cart with his free hand and says nothing.

so you don't say anything either.

the two of you continue shopping, trying to remember the things you've noticed the kids enjoying because you know they'll be too uncomfortable to outrightly request them. for every sweet snack satoru puts into the cart, you add something that can pass as somewhat healthy, and he hides a teasing grin behind his fist each time.

when you're almost done, satoru motions to the shelves of snacks, raising a brow at you. "what do you need, hotshot?"

you look up from where you're analyzing the contents of the cart. "hm? oh i don't wanna buy anything for myself. i'm good with the stuff i have back at the dorm."

"great," he shrugs with a subtle shake of his head. "except you're not buying anything this time, i am. so pick something."

"what?" you frown, walking over to him. "we're supposed to split groceries for the kids."

"we can split next time." satoru rolls his eyes at you, as though annoyed by your insistence. "i just got paid yesterday and i wanna waste money. pick something."

you groan. "but there really isn't anything i want. if you're gonna pay yourself then let's just go. i think this is good enough."

satoru looks unamused, his eyes boring into yours—bright, dominating, mesmerizing. "oh really? nothing you want?"

you stare at him in confusion as he walks over to the frozen section and opens the door. after a few seconds of rummaging, he pulls out a box. "not even this?"

your shoulders drop. he's holding a tub of strawberry ice cream.

he casually places it into the cart, eyes trained on your expression as he bends down. "it's your favorite, isn't it?"

your voice comes out throaty, and you wet your lips nervously—his eyes follow the movement at lightning speed. "how'd you know?"

satoru scoffs out a haughty chuckle, reaching up to knock a knuckle at your forehead—it's cold. "i know everything about you, hotshot."

he moves to grip at the cart's handle, standing close enough that you can feel the energy radiating off of him. the side of his hand touches yours, still cold. "now we can go."

he sticks by your side, pushing the cart towards the counters as he casually looks around the store. you briefly realize that his shadow doesn't cover you when you're at his side like this. the thought both scares you and pleases you in a way you didn't think was possible.

"thanks toru," you mumble before you can stop yourself. his gives you a sidelong glance—assessing.

his lips twitch. "it's just ice cream."

"no, it's a lot more than that." you're not really sure why you say it so tragically, and satoru inhales sharply. you notice that his knuckles have turned white as he grips the cart's handles. once again, his eyes dart rapidly over your face—between your eyes and then further down.

then he lets out a hushed laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "as long as you share with me, hotshot."

everything is always changing, but satoru is constant.

you can't help but smile. "always."

you two don't say much as you head to the counter, taking turns placing all the items on the belt. you quietly watch satoru dig into his wallet, feeling oddly content doing so. you think the stars in your eyes will never disappear.

the clerk eyes you both, and suppresses a fond grin. with your close proximity, shared cart, and satoru's easy going smile, you realize that she's probably misunderstanding, but you don't really know how to correct her. satoru says nothing—he just continues smiling, oddly pleased.

he smiles all the way to the car. you catch yourself doing the same in the rear view mirror.

xv. retribution

the first thing you notice when you kneel in front of suguru is that he's bleeding all over the place. you have the strongest urge to scramble and grip his fingers tightly, just as he had done for you so many years ago—but you don't dare. you're too scared that touching him will ruin you completely.

he says your name quietly, and yet it's the loudest thing in the universe to you—crashing over your ears until you've lost all sense of self.

and then he leans forward, his gaze heavy, and his hand comes up to tangle in your hair. his palm rests on the side of your face just like it did when he visited you at your family home. the last time you saw your geto suguru.

except this time he moves further—crosses a line. presses his lips to yours.

he tastes like blood. you don't pull away.

the feeling of his lips shocks you though, and you stay permanently frozen in place as you feel your eyes glaze over with something you can't put into words.

suguru kisses you slowly, deeply, like he's been waiting but wants to savor it. maybe you've been waiting too. you're not sure. you're so confused.

you don't even process the way his tongue slips past your lips, tasting almost eagerly like your mouth is some kind of conquest he's trying to claim.

it's intrusive, but not unwelcome. slow, but not gentle.

you whimper quietly, feeling acid sting down your cheek as he pulls away and his eyes flutter open. he takes in your expression, and a million emotions pass over his face.

a quiet chuckle. "that bad, huh?"

you shake yourself out of it and try to push away the flush creeping up your neck. "w-what?"

"you're crying," he announces, his furrowed eyebrows paired with a sweet smile that makes him look so unbelievably tragic. "the kiss was that bad?"

your face burns, and you raise a shaking hand up to your cheek—it's wet.

"it wasn't—i didn't—" you struggle. "i mean—"

he smiles ruefully. "i'm sorry. you were saving it for someone special, right?"

there's a charged silence that follows as you scour your brain for the conversation he's referencing. when you find it, your heart sinks.

"you've always been special to me, suguru." your voice comes out quiet, but he hears it all the same. his eyes widen fractionally and you can see a light pink dust his cheeks before he laughs. it's soft, hushed, and looks like it's painful, but he lets it run its course.

it reminds you of a laugh from so long ago, at a beach, with childish screams echoing against the sound of waves. you think you can feel strawberry ice cream dripping down your wrist.

his laughs die down and he's left smiling softly at you. his lavender eyes sparkle with mirth as he tilts his head. "i'm glad. that you were the one i gave a room to."

you can hear waves in your ears, crashing crashing drowning. sand is in your hands, in between your toes, in your eyes.

he coughs, and his palm shakes against your cheek. you wonder why he doesn't just let go already dammit suguru.

you inhale sharply, trying so hard to breathe because what is that stupid thing that's clogging your throat and preventing you from speaking? there's so much you have to say to him. so many questions. so many things left unsaid. your words are failing you.

but silence with suguru has never once been uncomfortable, right?

you raise a shaky hand to press against his where it lays against your neck. "do you regret it?"

he licks his lips, smiling faintly, as though he's enjoying the new taste of you on them. "no."

"why not?" you whisper. your body unconsciously shuffles closer to him, chasing his warmth because gods is he warm. he's always been so warm, even now, in the throes of death.

"my feelings are still the same. i still hate the monkeys for everything they've done, all the crap they cause." he shuts his eyes, smiling that serene smile. you wish he was leaning against a tree trunk. "i still have no resentment to those at jujutsu tech. and you, i still…"

he doesn't continue. you don't think you want him to. there's a flush crawling up his neck, the faint pink a stark contrast to the red of blood. it makes you nauseous.

another deep inhale, and his thumb slides over your jawbone, before brushing under your bottom lip. he stares at the flesh heavily, letting his finger press into it. his tongue swipes over his own lips, eyes darkening further.

and then something shifts in his face, and he smiles mirthlessly. his hand drops from your face—broken contact.

he doesn't tear his gaze away from you, committing your face to memory. it's almost like he wants to say something, but decides against it at the last minute as he slumps further into the wall behind him and shuts his eyes.

when he speaks again, you know that it is all over.

"you're late, satoru."

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rafesslxt · 3 months

Note

please please please do some hardcore fluff! i just want to see Theo really showing his love language (physical touch) like randomly touching y/n and doing anything to be close to her! kind of “i wish i could be in your skin” kind of thing, if you can!

touch starved | Theodore Nott

note: hi, thank u so much for my first request! I wrote a little bit with my ideas too, hope you still like it <3

warnings: some cursing, angst, arguing, hufflepuff!reader, me trying to write hardcore fluff, lmk if there are more

note: request are OPEN! English is not my first language

Theo was always interested in being as close to you as he could. He would love to just crawl under your skin if that was somehow possible. He loves to touch you, no matter where you are or who’s around you two.

But there were moments when this also brought its difficulties.

"Now, everything you need for the potion is at the front, take the ingredients you think would be suitable and get started." Professor Slughorn said.

Theo stood up like the good boyfriend he is and got all the Ingredients that he and y/n needed. "Here principessa, got everything we need." "Thanks Theo.“ You gave him a small kiss on his left cheek and started with the potion right in front of you.

Your boyfriend stood as close to you as possible, sometimes even right behind you. He wrapped his arms around you and stirred the kettle. He knew that other students gave him looks sometimes, but he didn't care. He just had to be near you and touch you in some way. He couldn't help it, you're like a drug to him that he can't get enough of.

Whether it was your soft skin, which smelled of vanilla from your bodylotion or your long shiny hair that smelled of peaches and was so easy to wrap around his fingers.

Your own scent drove him crazy the most. When you came fresh out of the shower, with nothing on you. Sometimes it took hours before you could finally get dressed and Theo would take his hands off you.

But he especially loves it when you play with his hair while you're both lying on the sofa in the Slytherin common room. The light tugging on individual strands made him moan softly and drove him crazy. Again, doesn‘t matter If you‘re alone or with your friends beside you. They all knew that Theo was completly smitten for you.

He also liked it when you gave him a massage after training Quidditch. "Yeah, right there baby, that‘s it.“ He groaned. He needed this. Your touch, your skin on his skin, your hands on his muscles.

" Theo? You there ? I think it is ready, you can stop stirring." He woke up from his daydreams and looked down at himself. You were already looking up at him, chin resting on his chest. " Yeah, sorry." He put the trowel aside to stir and put both hands on your hips now. His lips just touching yours slighty as he whispered " You're beautiful." " Thank you." She smiled at him and placed both her hands on his abs above his shirt now.

His head lowered next to your ear " I need to feel you amore. Need to feel your skin on mine." He whined.

You giggled and looked around embarrassed. " Teddy, we're in the middle of class, you'll have to be patient." " Ugh... I fucking hate school."

That was a week ago now.

It had been a week since he had been able to touch you. To say Theo was on the edge was an understatement.

" Where's your other half Nott?" Blaise, who took every chance to gossip, asked. " What do you care?" Theo bit back, knowing that he didn't ask because he cared. "Oh just so, I'm just surprised as you were inseparable before and now you're hardly ever seen together. Trouble in paradise?" He provoked.

Mattheo had to hold Theo back so that the situation didn't escalate completely, but truth be told, Theo was just as worried. For different reasons to Blaise, but he wasn't entirely wrong. It was as if you were slipping out of his hands like sand. It was the weekend now and just like every other weekend before, you and the boys were always out together as a group in Hogsmeade.

What Theo didn't know, however, was that you weren't ignoring him on purpose, let alone ignoring him at all. You just had a lot on your plate, helping other students with their lessons, being a assistant for some teachers with extra work, doing your own homework and being Head Girl of your house. You had so much on your plate that you didn't even realize Theo was feeling like this.

"Where's y/n?" Mattheo asked his best friend a little more quietly so that the conversation remained private. " She's helping some first years with their studies and finding their way around Hogwarts now that the new year has started. "

Just as your boyfriend was about to hit his head down on the table, a soft voice sounded next to him " Hey baby, why are you hanging your head like that?" " Principessa?" His head shot up and his face began to beam with joy. " Come here sit with me." He scooted a little closer to Mattheo to give you more room. A few Slytherins gave you looks because you were sitting with them as a Hufflepuff, but you were already used to that.

You grabbed something small to eat and chatted with the rest of the table. You immediately feel Theo scoot close to you and put his hand on your leg. You smile a little and look at him. " What's wrong?" " I missed you." He whispered against your head, smelling your hair for the first time in a week. " When are you free again?" He asked and reached for your hand, but you stood up again at the same moment.

" I have to go, but I'll see you later, yes? " You quickly gave him a kiss and grabbed some more fruit. " What? But you haven't even eaten properly? Where are you going?" " Helping first graders, you know that." You smile and disappear from the Great Hall just as quickly as you came.

" Ugh…" Now he dropped his head on the table.

The day passed and it was time to go to Hogsmeade. "Hey man, maybe she's already there or she'll be coming after, don't worry." Mattheo tried to reassure his friend.

" It pisses me off. I'm her boyfriend! I should be more important than some stupid first years." Theo paced up and down the common room. " Yo, can we go?" Draco asked, coming out of his room. " Go ahead, I'll catch up with you." Determined, Theo got up and walked in the direction of the Great Hall first. Maybe you were hungry and came back. As he searched half the school for you, all sorts of thoughts and worries ran through his head.

What if you deliberately seek out so many tasks to keep your distance from him? What if your relationship is coming to an end? No, that couldn't be. He's the perfect boyfriend. He always listens to you, is always there for you, supports you in all your decisions, is attentive, loves spending time with you, even if it wasn't that important to you, but he also showered you with gifts.

Where could you be? He thought until a light bulb came on above his head. The library, of course. He ran up the many stairs until he stood in front of the library. Nervously, he looked for you. What happens if he asks you about it? What should he do if she says that she no longer wants to be in a relationship with him?

Although all the girls in Hogwarts were after him and he's extremely self-confident, he only had eyes for you and you were probably the only person in the world who could make him feel that way.

His heart skipped a beat when he discovered you with three first years. He cleared his throat quietly so as not to startle you. "Teddy? What are you doing here?" y/n whispered. You're the only one who's ever been allowed to call him that. The boys sometimes made fun of him, but were very quiet as soon as he threatened them.

" Can we talk for a moment? It's important." He urged, looking between her and the students. "You keep working on the task I gave you, okay? I'll be right back." The little ones nodded obediently and continued to work diligently.

You walked with Theo a few shelves to the back where you could talk undisturbed. "Is everything all right? Did something happened?" You asked worriedly. "Don't you want to be with me anymore?" He asked directly. " What? What are you talking about?" Confused and a little disappointed, she looked at her boyfriend. " You're not here all week y/n, no matter when we see each other, I have the feeling that you're taking every opportunity not to be with me. I - I'm scared for us. I miss you, damn I can't be without you around." He confessed.

"Teddy, that's absurd. I just want to help! You know I need good grades for my degree and it's easier to get them that way. I would never want to hurt you." She took a few steps towards him. "But you do! We are a couple! Shouldn't we be together more? I miss you so much, it's like my air is gone to breathe. I - I love you, y/n. Fuck I love you so much!"

Although they were together, neither of you had ever said the L word before. " You- You do?" " Of course! Why else would I be with you? Why else am I looking for you all over the school? Why don't you understand me?" Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his hair, completely enraged. " Theo I l - " " No you know what ? Forget it. It was stupid to come here, don't let me bother you. " " But - " but he was already out the door. " - I love you too." You whispered as he disappeared from the library.

On the way out, he realized what he had said. Fuck, wasn't he wrong after all? He knows how important your future and grades are to you. The more steps he took towards Hogsmeade, the more nauseous he felt. For the first time he told you that he loves you and then left you like that? Merlin, he has to straighten that out.

When he arrived in Hogsmeade, he bought a large quantity of your favorite flowers and lots of roses, chocolate and a present.

He was walking through the alleyways when the boys came towards him, Mattheo at the front. "Hey man, we've already seen you - what's wrong with you? Didn't go so well huh?" Theo shook his head. " No, not a bit, to be honest, I completely messed it up."

" Good luck then, don't mess it up again. She's pretty cool for a Hufflepuff," Mattheo grinned.

Back at Hogwarts, Theo already had a plan but he needed help. "Jane! Hey, I need your help, please." He looked at your best friend, who only returned his look in confusion. "What do you want, Nott?" She wasn't the biggest fan of his, but respected y/n's decision and trust in him. " I know it sounds crazy, but you have to let me into your common room." Jane started to laugh out loud " What? Have you gone crazy? In case you haven't noticed, you're a Slytherin."

" Jane please, I messed up and I need to apologize to her. I have something planned for her ." He pointed to the flowers and presents in his hand. "And you have to do this in her room?" She asked with a sigh. "Please." He swallowed all his pride and tried to be as convincing as possible.

Annoyed, your best friend exhaled and shook her head. "Okay, but let's keep this between us and for the record, I'm only doing this for y/n!" If Theo wasn't himself, he would have loved to squeeze her for joy. "Thank you! Can you give this to y/n? It says that she should meet me in her room." She took the note and pocketed it.

"Then come on, I don't have all day." She led him to the entrance of the Hufflepuff. " You never tell anyone about this, understand?" He nodded and continued to follow her. They walked through the same corridor as the school kitchen was. Suddenly, Theo stood in front of huge barrels, looking questioningly at them

Jane tapped on a barrel that was stacked between two others. She did it in a certain rhythm. Suddenly, the path to the common room opened up. Theo had never seen it before, let alone heard of it. " Through there, up and you're inside. Her room is the tunnel on the far left." " Thanks again. " He walked through the middle barrel and then up a short steep path through an earthy corridor, which brought him to the common room. The room was empty, probably everyone was out in Hogsmeade or somewhere in the castle for the weekend. As Jane had told him, he went through the small underground tunnel on the far left. The doors were round and looked like the lids of barrels.

Not quite his taste, but it all looked very cozy and sunny. (JKR had probably once described it that way.)

Inside y/n's room, Theo started putting up his favorite flowers and scattering rose petals around the room. He placed chocolate on the bed and kept the present in his pocket. It wasn't long before he heard the door open.

"Theo? What are you doing here?" You spoke a little more quietly, afraid that someone would notice that he was here. "Y/n please listen, I'm incredibly sorry. I shouldn't have hit on you like that, I know how important your grades are to you and I should have known that you wouldn't ignore me on porpose. And I'm also sorry that I just left like that after I said I love you. "

" Oh Teddy… " You walked up to him and hugged him tightly. He threw his arms around her and hugged her as tight as he could. " Is it true what you said?" " What do you mean?" " That you love me? " He looked down and took her face in both hands. " Of course, I love you amore. You're all that matters to me. That's why I reacted the way I did. I was… desperate and so… fucking touch starved. " I love you too, Teddy. " you told him with a smile on her face, looking into his eyes.

" Really?" He couldn't have been happier. " And all this wasn't even necessary." She pointed to the rose petals and chocolate. "Because I'm sorry too, I really should have thought more about us. Jane's going to help me tutor the children from now on. That way I have more time for us."

" I'm so glad everything is okay." He whispered against your forehead. " Me too." He took your chin between his fingers and lifted your head. " You're driving me crazy, dolcezza."

His lips brushed yours just softly at first, until you couldn't wait any longer and filled the gap between you two. The kiss was gentle but passionate. Theo grabbed both of your thighs and lifted you up, whereupon you wrapped both legs around him.

He sat down on the bed behind him, with you on his lap. You started giggling as he began kissing your neck. " Teddy… I don't know when Jane is coming back." " I want you so so so so bad… " " I know, but now is not the right time. I'm sorry… " He brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled gently. " It's okay, don't worry about it. Besides, I have something for you. " He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cute little package with a bow. " Here baby, open it. " " Theo… you didn't have to do that, really. "

"Open it, trust me you'll love it." You carefully open the bow and flip open the small box. You accelerate quickly. " Oh Merlin, it's beautiful Theo. " With tears in your eyes, you took the golden necklace out of the box. On it hung the letter T which was set with small individual diamonds. "Will you put it on me?"

He took the necklace from your hand and pulled your hair to one side. He carefully put it around your neck and then put your hair back over your shoulders. "Thank you Teddy, I love it." Full of love, you kissed him, causing him to fall backwards onto the mattress. He briefly parted from your lips and looked down at your decollete, where his letter T now lays. " Fuck, now I want you even more than before. " You had to start giggling again. " Trust me Teddy, the right moment will come. " you said and sealed your words with a kiss.

Hope u enjoyed! Part 2 ?? Let me know ;)

my master list

xoxo Sarah

#theodore nott fluff #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott smut #slytherin smut #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #slytherin imagine

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remi-thirsts · 16 days

Text

❝ 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐘 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐀 ❞

pairing: r. suna x fem!reader summary: Headcanons abt ur man who loves to record his fav girl ! content: very suggestive, established relationship, (p -> v), oral (f + m receiving), fingering, pet names (baby), cursing, filming (consensual for both parties), teasing (when is suna not teasing?), lmk if I missed anything. (kind of a soft smut release since i'm not confident)

✧ bf!suna who whips out his phone anytime you wear anything that's tight around your curves.

"Okay Rin, I'm coming out tell me what you think of this dress." He lets out an uninterested hum, because you've been in the store for at least two hours. You need a new dress for your cousin's birthday party.

When you walk out and give him a little twirl he immediately exits whatever game he was playing to pass the time and opens the camera app.

"Holy shit, look at that ass baby. Mmm and those pretty tits."

"Can you focus for like one second?

✧ bf!suna who sends you horny videos throughout the day, because he misses you.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 video attachment] look what u do to me

you -boyyyy i'm at work rn -but holy fuck... you moan so loud that i had to turn my volume down and i think i got looks from people

dookie butt 😝💖 so.... no titties ?

you ding ding ding ! you win blue balls

dookie butt 😝💖 at least send me some ass 😒

✧ bf!suna has a whole ALBUM on his phone of videos of you two fucking.

✧ bf!suna loves watching that one video where it's so shaky and you can barely tell what's going on, but he knows. He was eating you out so good, he had you back arching off of the bed, and your toes curling. You couldn't even hold the phone properly like he asked you too. Being the meanie he is he continued to harshly suck on your clit and hit your g-spot with his, long, experienced, rough fingers even after you came. You ended up squirting all over his face..

✧ bf!suna LOVES to record his dick bulging in your belly. That's how he knows he's hitting it good.

✧ bf!suna comes up with all these ridiculous scenarios/roleplays that you always seem to agree to do with him. He records ALL of them.

✧ bf!suna saves every single nude you send him, because despite what you say he thinks you're beautiful all day everyday.

✧ bf!suna sends you Twitter links asking if you wanna recreate them. Anytime he watches them he can only think about you and himself.

✧ bf!suna has no shame and will watch your homemade videos even with his friends around.

"Damn, Rin whatever yer watching must be really interestin'!" Atsumu spits sarcasm at the EJP middle blocker.

"Way more interesting than you by a long shot." Suna calmly replies which pisses his friend off even more. The blond snatches Suna's phone. Only to hand it back seconds later with a flushed face, "Gosh yer a pervert, Sunarin, a pervert."

✧ bf!suna is like a photographer when you get a new lingerie set. He'll ask you to make different poses and stand at different angles so he can get "the best possible picture"

✧ bf!suna sends you audios of him moaning because he knows you love it.

dookie butt 😝💖 [1 audio attachment] :3

you RIN. I'M MELTING WTF U SOUND SO HOT

dookie butt 😝💖 u should send something back to show ur appreciation

you 🫡

✧ bf!suna never posts or shares your videos unless you ask him too, and the ones he does share with the internet are the ones where no one can see your faces.

✧ bf!suna all in all loves you and your beauty. Every single video he's recorded is proof of that. When you watch them, you notice the little things, like how he'll prop up a pillow for you, or how he'll quietly ask if it's okay for him to keep going and whatnot. Many would think that he's just horny all the time and doesn't care about you, but he does care. Way more than haters will realize.

©𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 All works are written by me! Please do not copy, translate, or upload onto other sites thanks!

#𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈-𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐒 #✩ hq post #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #suna x reader #suna smut #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarou #rintaro suna #suna rintaro smut #rintaro suna x reader #suna #haikyuu suna

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twilghtkoo · 17 days

Text

pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)

genre/aus. fluff, established relationship

warnings. the word smut gets mentioned, jk in that fit

note. i’m a huge book lover and have been busy consuming all romance books in my free time and one part of my brain is just jungkook and another part is filled with all the romantic scenes that happen in the books i read and this idea came up :D lmk if u want more jk x bookworm!reader drabbles i actually loved writing this one so enjoy my brain rot,, likes and reblogs are appreciated ! stay safe <3

[ masterlist ]

—

“how’d you find this place, we’ve never been in this one.” jungkook notes, observes the surroundings of the small book store you both entered. floor to ceiling shelves filled with literature and writing of every genre, in different colors and sizes. warm yellow lighting from the lights in the ceiling and the battery operated candles that are placed randomly throughout the store. there’s greenery scattered along the walls and potted plants on the floor and one next to the register, creating a familiar, welcoming environment.

you can’t help but smile when you walk in. “i took a different route home from class last week and saw this place. i wanted to wait to go with you.” you answer, greeting the woman behind the counter with a soft smile.

you feel his hand blindly reach for yours from behind, you first find his pinky then interlace your fingers with his.

“it feels homey in here.” he thinks aloud, as both of you walk by a red worn out couch.

you lead him through the aisles one by one, not having any interest in the specific genres besides your favorite, but looking at the filled shelves brings you comfort.

“oh! they have comics here.” he points to the aisle across from you and now he’s taking the lead.

a comforting silence falls between you both as you skim through each shelf organized by the marvel universe, dc comics, video games and manga. from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook holding a manga in his hand.

“when was the last time you read one?”

he sighs, “i think when i was young, probably about six years ago to be honest. i don’t really have time now.” he slightly pouts at his statement.

you place your hand on his lower back before rubbing soothing circles. “i know you’ve read that one before. haikyuu,” you read the title out loud.

he nods, closing the book and placing it back with the others. “yeah i read like the first few volumes but never finished it.”

you both look throughout the manga selection some more before you manage to talk him into buying at least two volumes of jujutsu kaisen.

he holds the two books in one hand and holds your hand in his other.

you make it to the romance aisle, and immediately take your time looking around. you always feel overwhelmed in the bookstore and feel like you’re taking too long looking in just one section but jungkook always assures you to take your time and look, that he’s not in a rush.

you pick up a book and examine the cover and pages before reading the back, humming to yourself if one peaked your interest but not enough to hold onto it.

“do these have smut in them?” he blurts out next to you.

your eyes go big and you smack him on the arm. you look at the bright neon green sticky note that’s taped to the shelf with the word ‘spicy’. did they have to make it known to the world?

“would you be quiet?” you whisper-yell at him, trying to contain your laughter.

he rubs his arm where you hit him as his eyes blink innocently. liar.

he lets go of his arm and giggles, pulling you close to his side and kisses the crown of your head. “just messing with you.” he smirks.

you scoff, pushing him away lightly but failing because your boyfriend is 5’10 and muscles.

he lets you continue to look around and he does the same but not with a purpose. but he knows if he pretends to busy himself, you won’t feel rushed. and he wants you to take your time.

by the time you reached the end of the romance aisle, you’re holding two books in your hands. one hardcover and one paperback.

“that’s it? only two books you found?” jungkook stares in disbelief, his eyebrow arched.

“a hardcover is expensive.” you tell him. there were other books you found and wanted, but now that you know this place is here, you’ll stop by again one of these days after class and come back for them if they’re still here.

“babe, go get all the books you want.” he waves you off, but you stay put.

shaking your head, “no, i’ll come back for them one of these days after my classes.”

“go get them now.”

“kook, it’s okay.”

“i know it is, but i want to get them for you anyway. you got a new bookcase with more shelves and you need to fill it up.” he says, peering down at you softly but he’s not giving up.

you did get a new shelf, with your paycheck you decided to spoil yourself and get a new one that had five shelves instead of your three. you had a growing collection and you had a tower of books on your floor. you needed a proper space for them.

you bite your lip. “yeah, but i don’t want you-“

he interrupts you by placing his lips on yours, moving against your lips for only two seconds.

the kiss was so abrupt that it had you in a daze.

“go get the books, hardcover or not. i don’t care yn.” he used your name. not babe or baby.

you sigh in defeat, knowing you lost this battle. jungkook offers to hold your books and you let him, you went back for the books you wanted and carefully stacked them onto his hands. it was only ten books you found, but the stack reached to his chest and you felt bad.

“don’t give me that look, baby.” he tells you as you both make your way up to the front to pay.

the lady’s eyes go wide at the tower of books in his hands, but doesn’t say nothing and scans everything.

you inch closer to his side as the lady tells him the total and it makes you gasp. but jungkook is relaxed as the lady asks if we wanted to sign up to become a member and he doesn’t even bother to ask me as he gives her my number for the future. he finishes by tapping his card onto the machine and grabbing the two bags of books.

you thank the lady and you both leave the store. the sky now different shades of blue, orange and red.

“thank you kook, i really appreciate you.” you tell him thoughtfully, sliding your arm through his and holding onto it. he glances down at you with a soft smile, his piercings shining under the sunset.

he hums. “i love you.”

“i love you.”

#twilghtkoo #jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenarios #jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #boyfriend!jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts scenarios #bts drabble

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wttcsms · 30 days

Text

angels like you can't fly down here with me (i'm everything they say i would be), megumi fushiguro ;

pairing megumi fushiguro x f!reader word count 11k synopsis people like him don't get happy endings but megumi fushiguro (foolishly) considers himself to be the exception — after all, he has you. content contains yakuza au, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, breeding kink, slight daddy kink, attempted sa, minor violence & depictions of blood author's note if ur on my ao3, you know this is from 2021!!! my writing has changed up since then, but i'm going to be releasing a revised version of this which will be rewritten and feature more scenes, more worldbuilding, more plot, relationship and character development, etc!! i figured releasing this on tumblr would help me gauge how worthwhile revision of this fic will be, so lmk if u like this au & want to see it become even better <3

Don’t do it.

He repeats the command inside his head again, and then one more time for good measure. (And then another time, just to drive the point across.)

He won’t — can’t; isn’t really allowed to — get into (another!) fight.

(Well, there’s a part of Megumi that knows that despite Gojo’s sing-songy warning of “now, now, Megumi, I don’t need a frequent visitor’s card for the principal’s office”, he doesn’t actually care. All he’s really concerned about — if the mild interest the reckless teenager turned legal guardian shows can even be called that — is whether or not Megumi wins.

And he does.

Every. Single. Time.)

For the most part, Megumi Fushiguro is fairly stoic in general, but to a concerning degree when one accounts for the fact that he’s only ten years old. For the odd three or so years he’s been under Gojo’s wing, Megumi’s mask of disinterest stopped becoming a mask and started becoming a part of him.

(Try as he might, Gojo’s not nearly as funny as he thinks he is. Maybe the connection between them might have been stronger if Gojo was a bit more responsible and if he was actually present, but he’s got his own shit to deal with. Besides, Gojo’s under the impression that what he’s doing isn’t cruel, but rather a means to an end. Megumi’s never going to be able to get stronger if he doesn’t learn how to survive on his own.

After all, being alone and having to fight to survive is the life people like them live.)

The older preteens in the area have a bad habit of picking on the younger students. Because the elementary and middle schools are so close together, the younger students who have the misfortune of walking alone tend to be targets for bullies in need of pocket change or a good laugh. Most of the time, they get both.

As of late, everyone’s favorite target happens to be Megumi Fushiguro, the boy with the messy black hair and indifferent attitude, even when confronted by boys two years his senior and almost a whole entire head taller than him.

Last week, Megumi gave the three older boys dumb enough to harass him for money bloody noses, bruised egos, and a thirst for revenge. That was the first (and supposed to be the last) time he got into a fight (for this school year, at least — something Gojo had told him, while winking). So, even when the trio is back together again, taunting him and trying to get him to take the first swing, Megumi keeps walking forward with his perpetual look of disinterest, those cold blue eyes of his staring straight at the path ahead of him, never paying any mind to the gangly bodies of the middle school boys who keep trying to block him from moving.

Don’t do it.

He tells himself this once more. You don’t want to have to inconvenience Gojo. Then, you’ll be stuck listening to him pretend to lecture you. You don’t like spending too much time with Gojo. He’ll make weird jokes.

The thought of having to deal with Gojo’s presence is enough to get Megumi to unclench his fists.

“Move.”

It’s the first thing he says to the group since they started following him after school. He tells the boy with the brown hair this. The brunet seems to be their ringleader of sorts, and even as nothing more than a ten year old child, Megumi knows that being twelve/thirteen and harassing little kids for sport is a sign of patheticness that will only grow and fester into something darker unless someone beats some sense into them. Obviously, they didn’t learn their lesson from last week.

“Huh? What the hell did ya just say, ya little brat?” The brown haired boy sneers, looking down at Megumi.

School has just let out, so there are dozens of kids of all ages walking down the sidewalk. They’re all aware of the situation happening, but everyone chooses to turn a blind eye to it. Partly because this is such a common occurrence that it just starts to become something that blends into the scenery, but also because there are some rumors surrounding the Fushiguro kid that’s enough to make anyone with a heart of gold reluctant to come to his rescue.

The main rumor circulating around the school is that Megumi Fushiguro has ties to the yakuza. Granted, most kids his age have no idea what the yakuza is, and even those who somewhat know only know through exaggerated definitions from their older siblings. Generally, everyone just accepts the fact that the yakuza is bad, and by default, Megumi Fushiguro must be bad too. Older siblings tell their younger siblings to avoid “that boy” at all costs, unless they want to end up with a finger cut off. Megumi’s classmates huddle together and conveniently choose to look everywhere else but at him when on the playground.

For anyone else, this might have been enough to cause some hurt feelings. Everyone thinks the boy must be some type of stupid to be so oblivious to the rumors centered around him, but the truth is this: Megumi is well aware of what people whisper about behind his back; he just doesn’t care enough to prove them wrong.

And they’re not wrong, anyway.

(For some parts of the rumors, at least.)

Because it’s true — Megumi does have ties to the yakuza. His father, who he can’t seem to attach neither a name nor a face to, must have done something bad. Something bad enough to have him cross paths with Satoru Gojo, the young head of the Gojo Clan, one of Tokyo’s most prominent crime families. It’s the same Gojo who decided to adopt both Megumi and his stepsister, Tsumiki, despite having nothing (so far) to gain from it. After all, why would a teenager willingly assign himself the responsibilities of caring for small children — one who resembles the man that tried to kill him and the other being an ill little girl confined to a hospital bed for who knows how long. All Gojo gets from this deal is a headache, bills, and more problems than necessary.

Megumi’s not really sure how the rumors started in the first place. He thinks it’s because kids his age are easily influenced and have a tendency to run wild with their imaginations. With the rising popularity of gangs from the high school students, this interest seems to have trickled all the way down to the elementary levels. Megumi certainly fits the description of their idea of someone from the yakuza: silent, secretive, scary.

(If they were a little bit older, maybe they would have just seen him as an introvert.)

No matter how ridiculous the rumors get, though, it doesn’t change the fact that the root of them is true: he is connected to the yakuza. After all, he’s being primed and prepped to be someone of value in the clan. Once you’re tied with the likes of them, you might as well just resign to the knot fate’s trapped you with. He’s learned quickly that the only thing harder than getting into the yakuza is getting out.

And because his sister’s and his life both depend on him doing as he’s told, getting out is a funny pipe dream at best and the Fushiguro siblings’ cause of death at worst.

“I told you to move. You’re blocking my way.” Megumi’s tone of voice betrays nothing. Annoyance, maybe, but he speaks flatly regardless of how he’s truly feeling. Gojo says it’s kinda creepy. Gojo also says that being a little creepy isn’t bad.

(Gojo should know; he’s a certified creep in Megumi’s eyes.)

“Oh — so the little boy can speak up.” The boy with blond hair laughs. It’s a nasally sound that grates Megumi’s ears.

He’s not an idiot. Megumi is well aware of the fact that no matter how much he feels like it isn’t true, he’s still just a little ten year old boy. He should be playing with the toy cars Gojo bought him, not worrying about the gritty future that lies ahead. But still, the phrase rubs him the wrong way.

Little boy.

He wasn’t so little when he kicked them down to his height before properly bashing their faces, now was he? Even now, he can feel the anger coming up. He clenches his fists, wondering if he’ll get suspended for fighting right next to school property.

“Leave him alone.”

Another voice appears, but not from any of the boys. No — this time, it’s coming from a little girl on the sidewalk across from theirs. Everyone involved turns to stare at the source of such a command and are greeted with the sight of you with a Hello Kitty backpack. You’ve got a frown on your face that doesn’t match the brightness of your pink outfit.

Megumi recognizes you instantly. You’re in the same class as him. You were in the same class as him last year, too. He tilts his head, trying to figure out what exactly it is you’re trying to accomplish here — and why.

He knows his social standing in the school. If he’s at the bottom, you’re right at the top. A beaming pillar of light, everyone flocks to you like moths after a flame. But you’re alone today, not surrounded by the usual crowd of boys and girls who are often vying for your attention. Seeing you alone enables him to see you more clearly, without all the distractions getting in his way.

You’re small. Shorter than him, and way shorter than the middle school boys. You’ve got a bow in your hair and brand new shoes on your feet. If anybody should be socially aware, it has to be you. Those at the top, Megumi knows, like to remind everyone of their placement. You shouldn’t be here. You should be ignoring him like he’s got the plague, just like everyone else.

All three of the boys start to laugh after sizing you up. The laughter only serves to make you even more irritated, but you can’t speak because one of them is already talking through his laughs.

“Don’t tell me. Is this your girlfriend?”

The group erupts into more laughter, and while Megumi’s expression remains the same as it’s been for the past few minutes, yours only shows your growing contempt.

“She’s no one.” Megumi throws you an odd look, one of neither annoyance nor gratitude for trying to help him out. He uses your presence as a distraction, and he manages to take a few more steps before one of the boys is yanking him back by his bookbag.

“Grab her.” One of the boys says, and the third boy, the one with the messy red hair, starts to cross the street.

Megumi watches as you stay right where you are. Are you stupid? Why won’t you run? The boy still has a solid grip on his bookbag, keeping him in place. He wonders if it’ll be a waste of his breath if he tells you to start running — you probably wouldn’t listen to him anyway.

But then Megumi figures out why you don’t look too frightened, because not even a second before the older boy manages to cross the street to your side of the sidewalk, a man in a suit is running towards you, a scowl on his face.

“You said you were going to the restroom, young lady!” The man scolds you while panting for breath. He surveys the scene, looking at you, and then the middle school boy by your side before turning his head and seeing Megumi in between the other two boys. “What’s going on? Is everything alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“No, Mr. Higashi. B-but—“ Your bottom lip starts to tremble, and even though Higashi is certain that the tears about to fall are fake, the situation itself looks serious enough to the point where he doesn’t call you out on it. “Th-these boys are being really mean.” You let out a high pitched wail that makes the boy let go of Megumi’s bookbag. “They just threatened to attack me and my friend out of nowhere.”

“Your father will be informed.” Higashi frowns, eyeing the guilty boys who look confused and a little shocked at this turn of events. “Mr. [Surname] certainly won’t be pleased to hear about this.”

The middle school boys pale when they hear the man name drop your family’s surname.

After all, it’s the same last name that’s engraved on plaques all over the school, thanking your family for the many donations they’ve received.

You enter into Megumi’s life that way: unexpectedly. He never thanked you for intervening, but it’s not like you did it for the thanks anyway. You did it, you tell him, because you figured he needed some help.

“I had it handled.” He tells you flatly. “Why are you even sitting here? Your friends keep staring at us.”

It’s true. Stories of what happened are already circulating around both schools, and while all your friends spent the whole entire day pestering you for the full story, you chose to keep quiet about the situation. And now, here you are, choosing to sit and eat lunch with Megumi, someone who also knows the true story of what went down but the only one people aren't brave enough to ask.

Your whole entire table of friends keep their heads huddled together as they go back and forth with each other, every one of them sparing glances at Megumi’s table. It makes the rice in his mouth taste stale. He should have just stayed in the classroom to eat, especially if he knew you would be bothering him.

“Gee, is that any way to treat a friend?” You huff, not at all actually annoyed with him.

“We’re not friends.”

“Too late. I told my dad we were.”

There has been one question on his mind ever since that incident. Just who exactly is your father? He’s not stupid; he knows that you must come from a wealthy family. If the buildings and auditorium named after your family isn’t enough proof, the fact that you always have the latest toys, the nicest shoes, the cutest stationery sets — that’s material proof of a spoiled princess.

You continue speaking, and as if you can read his mind, you’re already answering his question. “My daddy’s called a CEO. But the man you saw is Mr. Higashi. He takes care of me when dad’s away at work, and everything I do gets typed up in a report that dad sees every day. He wasn’t happy about what happened, so he says the boys will get in trouble. He told us not to worry, though.” You have a pleased smile on your face, waiting for Megumi to say something in reply.

“Okay.” He says, after a while. He only spoke because it seemed like you were waiting for him to. “It doesn’t mean we’re friends.”

“What’s so wrong about being friends with me?” You tilt your head. Everyone wants to be friends with you. And that’s before they even figure out that you live in a real life mansion with actual servants, and that sometimes you’re allowed to eat dessert for dinner. Even without the wealth, you still draw people in, whether it be with your bright smile or cheery attitude.

“Don’t you already have enough friends?” He can’t figure out what you could possibly want with him. Even though Gojo’s got the backing of the clan and enough funds to run the Tokyo underground with cash to spare, it’s not like Megumi is in a position to take advantage of it. Gojo hands him a thick wad of cash every week with a tip to “spend wisely, hehehehe”, and Megumi takes the tip to heart. A majority of the money sits saved in his bedroom, underneath a floorboard he spent a week trying to figure out how to loosen without anyone catching on. (Which was actually easy whenever he realized that nobody seems to really watch him to begin with.) So, he doesn’t look like he has money, and isn’t that what all rich kids want? To surround themselves with equally rich kids?

“I guess.” Your bubbly mood seems to dampen a bit at the mention of the other kids. They like you, sure. But they like each other a lot more. The gap between you and the other kids isn’t noticeable at first, but the novelty of having an endless supply of company has lost its luster. Meanwhile, the glamor of your life only keeps the hoards of “friends” to grow as the days go by. It’s always “let’s have a sleepover at [Names]’s!” or “[Name], we have to go to your house because you have the best toys!”. You wonder if they like you, or the shiny things that they get when they’re with you. “But, it’s not like youhave any friends.”

“I don’t need any.” The response is quick — instinctual. Gojo, even if not the greatest guardian by any parental standards, still presses Megumi to have a proper (or, as proper as it can be) childhood.

(“You know, I don’t care if you bring any friends over. Just make sure no one ends up accidentally getting shot, okay, Megumi?”

Yeah, because that’s definitely gonna push him towards throwing as many parties as he wants.)

People in his position don’t have many friends. It’s hard to, he assumes, because of all the killings and betrayals and power plays.

(And, he’ll soon learn that it hurts a lot less to lose an enemy than it does a friend.)

“Hmm. Okay.”

But you don’t get up from your seat, and he doesn’t tell you to move.

The next day, you’re carrying two bento boxes. The lunches are prepared for you by world class chefs and everything is done in a rather cutesy manner to entice you into not wasting your food. The fruit is cut into pretty shapes, the food has picks with animals on them, and everything is colorful and to your own personal tastes.

You take a seat next to him once again. He looks up for a second, sees that it’s you, and returns back to his meal that looks pitiful in comparison. Leftover rice and some cold meat. You think it’s the same thing he had last time.

“For you.” You slide the second bento you had requested towards him before opening up your own.

“What’s this for?”

“For you to eat, silly.”

“...How much?”

“Huh? All of it, I guess? If you don’t like something, tell me, and I’ll request something different tomorrow.” You don’t quite understand what he’s asking you.

“No. How much does it cost? I'll bring you the money tomorrow.”

“Why would it cost you?” Now you’re really confused.

Didn’t anyone ever teach you that everything comes attached with a price? If it’s not money you want, it must be something else. At least, if Megumi’s judgments are right. (And they usually are.)

“Fushiguro, I brought you this because I want you to eat well and grow strong.”

He wonders what rice shaped like Hello Kitty has to do with his strength.

“Also, so the next time people give you or me trouble, you can fight them, okay?”

Oh. So it’s protection you want. He contemplates what he thinks your request is before popping a piece of food into his mouth. A meal made with care — he can taste the thought that’s been put into it. Shoving his old lunch to the side, he quickly starts eating at the one you brought him.

Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.

“Meguuuumi.” You whine out his name, messing up the navy sheets of his bed while he sits at his desk, trying to finish his application for university. “I’m bored.”

“Good. Go to your own house then, and leave me alone.”

“You’re so mean to me.” You sigh, turning your head so that half of your face is pressed against his pillow. The scent of his shampoo still sticks to the fabric, and you subconsciously inhale the scent some more. It’s familiar and reminds you of him, your favorite person in the world.

No one believes you when you tell them that Megumi is your best friend. No one wants to believe that it’s true. After all, the two of you look more like a shoujo manga trope than an actual pair of best friends. The cold, inexpressive dark haired male lead with a secretive past he doesn’t want anyone to know about and the bright, bubbly, ball of energy that is constantly clinging to his side. It’s like looking at night and day with you two.

“And yet, you’re still always here.”

You’re still by his side, even when the two of you reached middle school and high school together, and he spent a majority of his time starting (and finishing) fights.

(“Get off of him!” You screamed, yanking on the collar of one of the boys who happened to be trying to grab Megumi from behind. You don’t have the same amount of strength as them, but everyone at this point knows who you are and who exactly your father is. No matter what the origin of the fight is won’t matter; all that matters is that the precious daughter of one of Tokyo’s richest CEOs got caught in it, and that’s enough to get everyone involved into some deep shit.

Immediately, the boy scampers off, and the other boy Megumi was punching into the squeaky clean floors of the hallway begins to thrash around wildly, eyes wide at the sudden sight of you. Seeing you coming from behind Megumi is like watching the sun peek through a dozen storm clouds.

Megumi gives him one last punch, not nearly as satisfied as he thought he would be. Honestly, getting into fights with low level delinquents is beneath him. It’s not just his knuckles and clothes that are getting dirty; by feeding into the school’s image that he’s this young, violent yakuza heir, he’s dirtying the prestige Gojo claims is oh so important.

“Megumi.” He straightens up at the sound of your voice, which usually sounds so sweet, especially when it’s directed towards him. Instead, you have an uncharacteristic frown on your face and you sound… mad. “Let’s go.”

You’ve got a hand wrapped around his wrist, and people part when they spot the two of you making a hasty exit. The teachers aren’t bold enough to cause a scene with you, and the students know both you and Megumi are practically untouchable — one being the spoiled brat daughter of a rich and powerful businessman, the other, a ticking time bomb with ties to the yakuza.

You don’t stop walking until the two of you are in a secluded courtyard at the school. No one goes here, mainly because it’s in such an inconvenient location and there’s nothing but trees and weeds over growing it. The two of you found it within your first week of being here, and ever since then, it’s become your designated spot to avoid prying eyes.

“I thought you were over stupid fights. You told me yourself that they weren’t the type of people worth beating up.” You scold him, forcing him to take a seat on the bench that creaks under his weight. You make a noise as you inspect the drying blood on his knuckles.

If an outsider were to look at the scene before them, they would gape at the unbecoming sight of you on your knees, in between his legs, too close for a duo who claims to be “just good friends”. But there’s nothing inherently dirty in your thoughts. Instead, you’re staring thoughtfully at his hands, inspecting the minor damage done to them.

Megumi swallows hard as he looks down on you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this — you’re his best friend, his only friend. The only person who’s by his side. If you could read in his mind, there’s no doubt that you would be recoiling away from him in disgust…)

You’re still by his side, even when he told you the truth about himself after waiting years to see if you were truly his friend or not.

(“The rumors—” He starts to say, but you shush him, rolling over on your side to face him. The two of you are lying on the grass in your massive backyard, trying to spot a shooting star that’s supposed to be passing by at any second now.

“I don’t care about that.” You tell him. Middle school was a bitch to deal with, mainly because as everyone was in the process of growing up and “maturing”, so did the rumors they spread. Now, the two of you are halfway through your first week of high school. A new school, a couple of new classmates, and new rumors surrounding the odd pair.

“If I told you the rumors about me being someone you should avoid were true, would you be mad?” He’s lying on his back, still staring up at the night sky. He’s not turning to face you, almost as if he’s scared to look at you.

“Yes.” You answer without any hesitation. “At the person who’s spreading that around.” You clarify, poking him on his side to lighten the somber mood he’s setting. “You’re the only real friend I’ve had in forever, Megumi. I don’t think what anyone says about you would change that.”

“What if I did something bad?” Like kill a person. What then? What would you think of him if he told you the full truth: that Gojo told him that he can’t shield Megumi from the dirtier aspects of this type of life. That he’s spent hours after school, hours after hanging out with you and pretending to be a normal teenager, learning how to assemble, disassemble, and then reassemble a gun. That his target practice isn’t glass bottles lined up in a row or sheets printed out with human bodies. What happens if he told you that his target practice was low level scum from rival yakuza clans that Gojo couldn’t be bothered to kill himself?

“Mmm. How bad are we talking? Like, lied to me when you said my Christmas outfit looked good but half my ass was practically exposed bad or committing a felony bad?”

“What if I told you… that I really was a yakuza heir.”

The silence is palpable and especially soul crushing to Megumi as he waits for your reply.

“It wouldn’t matter to me, Megumi.” You say. You know that this isn’t just some type of hypothetical question he’s asking for fun. From his odd living situation to the intense nature of him in general to the fact that he knows practically everything about you, but you barely know the full extent of his childhood traumas despite growing up alongside him, you know deep in your heart that there has to be something going on with him. Something dark enough to harbor stories about him.

“Are you sure about that?”

You reach for his hand in the dark, finding it without really needing to look. He’s not one that’s prone to initiating physical contact, but you found out that he doesn’t really mind when you reach for him first.

“You can’t get rid of me, no matter how crazy or fucked up you think your life is.” You squeeze his hand, still staring at him.

You don’t notice the shooting star flying past the night sky, but Megumi is looking right at it. He knows what he’s wishing for.

For your words to be true.)

You’re still by his side, even when he brought you to his sister’s bedside. She’s sick, afflicted with something no one knows, not even the private doctors that Gojo’s spent millions on. She was still conscious, albeit confined to her bed when the two of you first met, but she’s been in a coma ever since the last year of middle school. You were by his side as he broke down about the news. It was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry.

So, no matter how much it may seem like he’s pushing you away, you don’t budge. For someone smaller than him and definitely weaker, you’re awfully resilient. And while people make the occasional joke, telling you to “blink twice if you need help”, you don’t pay any attention to them. If only they knew the truth: that you’ve got Megumi Fushiguro, heir to a massive yakuza clan, wrapped around your dainty finger.

He’s so whipped that he found himself asking Gojo for a rare favor.

(“College?” Gojo rubs the back of his neck, staring at Megumi. “I mean, I guess it’ll be good for you. Meet a wild party girl, take her to your dorm room, tame her—”

“An education is the whole point of attending, you know.” Megumi interrupts him before Gojo can jump into a story highlighting all of his sexual endeavors with college girls back in the day.

“Eh. I guess.” But then a grin lights up the feature of the man who [kind of/by definition] raised him. “But y’know what I know for a fact.” He wiggles his eyebrows, his glasses slipping down his nose as he tilts his head downwards. “You wanna follow [Name].”)

It doesn’t really matter if he’s not good enough to get into the university you’ve already received an early acceptance for. Because Gojo tries to make up for being an absent father figure, he fills in those empty spaces with cold, hard cash. All it takes is one nice donation, and Megumi’s wherever he wants to be.

Where he wants to be, he realizes, is to be by your side. Wherever you go, he’ll gladly follow. Funnily enough, despite the two vastly different backgrounds the both of you come from, you both have similar means of getting what you want.

Your father had already looked over the list of universities you had in mind, and all you could do was excitedly squeal and start rambling the moment the acceptance letters came in the mail. Despite the fact that your father’s physically absent from your life most of the time, he still tries to show he cares in the things he does for you. If paying off over half a dozen major universities in order to make you happy is something he has to do, he’ll do it without batting an eye.

It’s the same thing on Megumi’s end. Granted, Gojo’s means are more along the lines of using money as a lubricant and then death as an inevitable. Money talks, a gunshot to the head silences. Nobody can accuse anyone of taking bribes if said accused person is in a grave six feet under.

Sometimes, Megumi wonders how you’re just so oblivious to the fortunate circumstances in your life. You chalk up a lot of your father’s wishes as just “good luck”. In school, you’re placed on a pedestal, revered as some goddess-like, otherworldly being. People are practically tripping over themselves, running towards you for a crumb of your attention. Anyone sane would gladly wield this power and use it for all its worth. Not you, though. Not you, who’s kind and considerate and completely clean from the corruptness that plagues everyone else.

Megumi knows good and well that he’s not a hero — couldn’t be farther from it, if he’s being honest. He doesn’t feel a moral obligation to go out and rid the world of all evil. (It’d be hypocritical, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s most likely belonging under the evil category himself.) From a young age, he’s already known and come to terms with his fate. He’s going to train and learn from the best, and eventually, he will succeed as head of the clan. That is his purpose. That right there is the reason why he’s still alive today. That is why he can find himself sitting at his desk, submitting an application that’s already guaranteed to be followed up with an acceptance letter, ready to pretend for four more years that he’s normal.

“D’you think college will be fun?” You ask him, making yourself comfortable in his bed.

“No.”

You laugh at that. You like Megumi for a lot of reasons, and his honesty is one of them. Despite the fact that he likes to keep most of the darker details of his life to himself, you know that he would never lie to you. In a world full of people who are constantly lying, it gets tiring trying to figure out who’s real and who’s fake. It doesn’t help that you want to believe in everyone either. If you didn’t have Megumi loyally staying by your side all this time, you doubt you would have made it this far in your life without anyone taking advantage of you and your kindness.

“My dad said I can finally get a boyfriend when I go to college.” You say this fact so casually that Megumi almost — almost — gets fooled into believing that this is not a cause for concern. Almost.

“Oh.” He’s at a loss for words. He knows that it’s inevitable; that one day, you’ll find a guy you like and want to get closer to him. He knows that you’re not always going to be by his side, and he knows that it’s going to happen because he’ll have to push you away eventually. The older he gets, the deeper he’s burying himself into his grave. He doesn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire.

It’s not like boys have never tried approaching you before. People have spent years thinking that you and Megumi were a couple, and then after finding out from you that the two of you are nothing more than “best friends”, boys were still hesitant to talk to you. The glare Megumi would give them from behind your shoulder acted as a strong enough deterrent.

“I know. Now the only problem is finding a guy who’ll actually wanna date me.”

“They all will.” The words leave his mouth faster than he can even think about them. He’s not wrong, though. Every time the two of you are out in public together, he sees people shooting quick glances at you, at your ass, at your bright smile. The looks they give are predatory, dangerous, even. If it’s not your looks, it’s your shining personality that draws them all in. And if that’s not good enough, there’s always the enormous wealth attached to your last name. That’s the key to getting them to stay.

“You can be so sweet sometimes, you know that?” You giggle, glad that he’s still typing away on his laptop. If he were to look at you right now, he would see that you’re reacting way too positively to such a lackluster compliment. It’s not like he listed reasons on why anyone would ever want to date you, so he probably could just be complimenting you to make you happy.

(That’s just the excuse you’re going with. You know your best friend — that means you know that he would never say something he doesn’t truly think or believe.)

There’s a secret you’ve been keeping from him. A secret so big that you think you might’ve been keeping it from yourself, too. Something so big that your body simply can’t contain it any longer.

You like Megumi.

Of course you do. You keep telling the whole world what great friends the two of you are. You talk to him about your dad all the time (which must mean he’s important, because you rarely get to speak to your dad, so you have to choose your topics of conversation wiseley). You trust him more than you trust yourself. Ever since middle school, you’ve been telling yourself that you liking Megumi isn’t anything to be ashamed or confused about. You like him because he’s your friend, and you’re supposed to like your friends.

And then you came to terms with the fact that you like Megumi beyond the borders of friendship.

It starts with you seeing him the way other girls must see him. You’re not blind, you know. It’s obvious that Megumi is far from ugly. If he wasn’t so intimidating, you’re sure he would have had his fair share of confessions, too. Megumi’s pretty, although calling him a pretty boy wouldn’t do his character justice. He’s got lashes people pay extensions for theirs to look like, and the prettiest dark blue eyes you’ve ever seen, and his hair, which he doesn’t put forth any type of effort in, always looks good whereas the same hairstyle would look messy on anyone else.

It’s not just his looks, though. Even if you look like the type of person who would judge others based on such shallow standards, you didn’t approach Megumi simply because he’s attractive. He’s… interesting. He’s got this reputation for being a delinquent, and maybe all the fights on his school record prove it, but he’s surprisingly respectful. He’s the type of guy who gets up from his seat to let an eldery woman have it. He loves animals. He’s honest and sweet despite his seemingly stoic nature, and he’s so oblivious to just how good he is.

Maybe it’s because he’s so blinded by the light that is you. You, with your cutesy bento boxes that used to be made by your team of personal chefs but are now made with your own manicured hands. You, with that bright smile of yours that he wants to always see because god — he thinks he would be willing to destroy the whole world if something were to ever make you so upset. You’re kind and beautiful and everything people write love songs about. You’re so good, and he’s nothing like you.

He’s nothing like you, because he highly doubts that you spend your time fantasizing about him like he does with you. It’s wrong, he thinks. And dirty, and disgusting, and vile. You’d hate him, he’s sure of it, if you knew what he thinks about late at night. That he sits on his bed with his cock pulled out from his shorts, leaking with precum as he strokes himself to the thought of you. Do you not see him as any other guy? Despite your lack of experience, surely you know just how dirty boys’ minds can be? You’ve got to be conscious of the fact that he’s any other guy, right? So, why — why — do you always roll around in his sheets, letting your sweet perfume stick to his sheets. Your tiny tops and skirts are always clinging tight to your body, and you never feel the need to readjust your clothing when it rides up. Do you not see him trying his hardest to look you in the eyes when the two of you are talking, despite the tantalizing sight of your skirt bunching up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs?

Little does Megumi know (and if you have your way, he’ll never find out), you spend nights in your room, whining and trying to stuff your cunt with the same fingers that painstakingly made him his lunch. He’s your best friend since childhood. He looks at you like you’re an angel, and you don’t want to destroy that image by revealing just how dirty you really are. How every time he gets so close to you, you subconsciously bring your thighs together, trying to rub them together in a poor attempt to relieve some tension. He’d be disgusted with you, you’re sure of it. Maybe even betrayed.

Besides, it would never work out. Megumi doesn’t see you the way you see him. He might look at you with a soft look you’ve never seen him give anyone else, but that’s because you’re his only friend. It’s not like he’s harboring any hidden feelings for you, and just because you’re so convinced that there’s no one better than Megumi around, it doesn’t exactly mean that you won’t feel this way about anyone else.

Megumi’s got a rather monotone cadence with his voice, so you’re not too surprised by his seemingly unethusiatic response to you saying you’re now allowed to date. Still — there’s a slight pang of disappointment when you realize that he doesn’t sound jealous at the prospect of you dating someone else.

You decide right then and there that the healthiest thing to do now is to just bury your feelings for him deep inside your heart, to tightly pack in all those pesky feelings and store them away so you can make room to allow others to fill in his space.

gumi <3: where are you? gumi <3: i’m feeling tired and i have an assignment due tomorrow. i’m going home. gumi <3: you know i wouldn’t leave without you. cmon [name]. let’s leave now

Megumi frowns at his phone. He can clearly see that all his messages are being delivered, not to mention that he’s already called you twice and has been sent to voicemail twice. He can be patient when he wants to be, but right now, he’s getting a little pissed.

You know that he doesn’t like parties, and you know that he doesn’t hang out with the same people you do. He also knows that you don’t even really like most of the people you surround yourself with, so whyyou suddenly decided to do a 180 and reestablish your throne as the head of the social pyramid, he doesn’t know.

Lately, things between the two of you have been a little… weird. Sometimes he catches you staring at him with a sad smile on your face; one that you immediately replace with your usual one when you realize he’s looking right at you. Despite him asking you if everything’s okay, you vehemently deny that there’s anything wrong, and you’re quick to change the subject.

He thinks he’s losing his best friend, his only friend. And maybe it only hurts because he’s grown used to your presence in his life. Maybe it hurts because you’re his friend. But he knows the truth. It hurts because he’s losing you.

Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally somehow reveal the extent of his feelings for you? Did you suddenly decide that maybe associating with someone like him isn’t something you’re meant for? Do you…

Do you hate him now?

It doesn’t matter. Maybe it does, but not right now. Right now, he’s more focused on getting the hell out of this stuffy ass living room, filled to the brim with drunken young adults and people he couldn’t care less about. The only person that matters right now is you, and he’s on a mission to find your location.

He’s got this ominous feeling in his gut, like something bad is about to happen. He’s Megumi Fushiguro, for fuck’s sake, so bad things have a habit of following him wherever he goes. But still, he’s made a personal promise to himself that no matter how bad things get, you’ll never get caught in the crossfire. He’s willing to die to keep that vow.

If you don’t reply to him, you most likely have a good reason. He doesn’t want to be clingy, is pretty damn certain he doesn’t even have a right to be, but he’s still worried about you. He’s pushing past the wall of sweaty bodies, trying to catch a glimpse of your hair color, the waft of your perfume, the familiarity of your laugh, but he can’t catch a single crumb of you anywhere.

You’re nowhere in sight, and he’s immediately filled with dread.

He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.

“Ow, man, what the fuc—”

“Is anyone else up there?” Most of the time, the parties are restricted to just the first floor, with the unspoken rule being that only the upstairs should be used for people trying to fuck or to use the bathroom (or, people trying to use the bathroom to fuck). You’re not anywhere downstairs, and if you were simply using the restroom, you would have been back down here by now.

“Shit, I don’t fucking know.” The guy squints at Megumi, as if trying to see if he knows him or not. With the way his expression pales, Megumi comes to the conclusion that the guy might not really know him, but he knows ofhim. Gojo says that with the right reputation, the two concepts are practically synonymous. “But I heard a guy ‘n a girl, I think, walk past the bathroom. I don’t know who, though!”

Megumi lets go of the boy’s shirt, and he’s quick to run off before Megumi can give him any more wrinkles in his shirt — or do something much worse.

He’s thinking. Odds are, it’s probably not even you. With so many people roaming around this house, it’s likely that he just missed your presence. Your phone could have died, so that explains why he can’t reach you.

He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.

It’s fine. He tells himself. You’re fine. You’re okay. Nobody would dare to touch a single hair on your head unless they want to suffer directly at the hands of Megumi. People around campus call him your guard dog, and it’s not necessarily a nickname he hates.

The atmosphere upstairs is vastly different from the one downstairs. There are no lights turned on, and all the doors to the rooms are closed. He hears a flush coming from one end, and out walks a tipsy girl who’s staggering a bit. There are only so many doors to choose from, and he doesn’t really want to accidentally walk in on two people trying to have sex, but the need to confirm your safety outweighs any possible embarrassment he may suffer from, so he continues on his mission.

The first two rooms are revealed to be empty, leaving just one more. Megumi takes a deep breath before trying to turn the handle.

It’s locked.

His gut is telling him something isn’t right, but he’s forcing himself to chalk it all up to paranoia. He curses under his breath, wondering why he even let you out of his sights for a single second.

Because he didn’t want to seem clingy. Because he didn’t want you to have any more reasons to keep on pushing him away.

He decides to call you one more time, and as he’s listening to the dial tone, he hears a faint sound coming from the other side of the locked door.

It’s a phone ringing.

He presses his ear against the door, trying to make out any more sounds he possibly can. Is it still a coincidence when the phone stops ringing right as Megumi is greeted with your voicemail message of “sorry, I can’t come to the phone right now, but you probably should’ve just texted me!”

Without the annoying dial tone distracting him, Megumi can listen a little more clearly to what’s going on. There’s… there’s someone crying.

The voices are muffled, but he can make out bits and pieces of what’s being said.

“—fuck up… crying like a damn bitch… want this.”

He’s heard enough before he’s banging his shoulder against the door.

“OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!” He’s screaming, hitting it again. There’s a chance, the voice of reason inside of him is saying, that it’s not you that’s crying behind that door. Even if it wasn’t, Megumi still wouldn’t have stood by idly. But instinct is telling him that it is you, and that’s enough cause for him to bang his shoulder against the door once again. He hears a scream, and a male voice cursing.

The force of his body banding against it is enough to have the door really test the strength of its lock. Megumi’s never been the bulkiest person in the world, but he’s still got some defined muscle to him. The door is creaking, almost bending to his will, but he fumbles in the dark for the gun safely tucked away by his side.

It’s a gift from Gojo. To speed up the process when something needs to be done quick is what Gojo said it was for. He’s never used it in such close proximity to you, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

No silencer. He forgot the fucking silencer. With the deep bass rumbling from the speakers, he doubts anyone would be able to hear the gun go off anyway. He aims for the handle, pulling back the safety, and fires once, then twice. With a foot aimed at the door, he kicks at it, pleased to see the way the abused door finally bends to his will.

The open door reveals a scene that makes Megumi see red: you, with tear stained cheeks and your clothes bunched up and strewn across the floor with a guy Megumi vaguely recognizes as someone sharing the same Econ class as the two of you — Mahito.

“You fucking bastard.” Megumi practically lunges forward, tossing his gun to the side. He doesn’t see reason, is numb to common sense at this moment. All he feels is the need to hurt this fucker. To make him bleed, to have him on the brink of death, to see the light of life leave his dark eyes.

Mahito is fast, but even he couldn’t imagine the speed that Megumi would possess when pushed to the edge. This is different from the fights you’ve witnessed during school. This is something entirelydifferent.

The first punch has Mahito wincing in pain. The second, third, and fourth ones are thrown back to back, and there’s no time given to recover, no chance to gain the upper hand. He’s falling down, and Megumi’s on top of him, drawing back his fist only to slam it against him again and againand again.

Megumi knows he’s got something fucked up inside of his head — what other explanation is there to reason with why he finds this bloody violence so satisfying? His knuckles are bloody, and he can’t tell where Mahito’s blood starts and where his own ends. There’s a wild grin on his face, one that you’ve never seen before. You’re not sure if it’s a trick of the shadows, but the feral expression on Megumi’s face transforms him from your loyal best friend to something monstrous.

“‘Gumi, st-stop.” The words stumble out of your mouth as hiccups, but you don’t miss the way Megumi’s raised arm freezes in its higher position before he slowly brings it back down to his side. He’s breathing deeply, and all is silent in the room.

As if the sound of your cries is enough to snap him out of his daze, it’s almost scary how fast his mood shifts. Just a second ago, he was hellbent on beating Mahito to a bloody pulp, and now the darkness drowning those blue eyes of his is practically gone. He makes his way to the bed, each step hurried but still hesitant. Do you even want to be near him right now?

You answer his question with some more small sobs. “‘Gumi, I—”

“Shh, it’s okay, [Name].” He’s picking up your clothes from the floor, ready to help you get dressed. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Megumi.” His name seems to be the only thing you’re capable of saying right now. After he helps you get dressed, he’s thrown off guard when you cling to him, with your arms wrapped around his neck and your wet cheeks pressed against his shoulder.

The moment the two of you are exiting the room, both of you far too wrapped up with the other to pay him any mind, Mahito lets out a laugh before groaning at the pain Megumi inflicted.

The two of you don’t know what you just started, but no worries — Mahito has the means of ending it.

It’s only a matter of time.

You’re too good to be true.

You won’t listen to him when he tells you this (you never do), but he swears you’re a fucking angel or something otherwordly. There’s no other possible explanation for just how breathtakingly beautiful you are, or how you’re the only thing consuming his every thought. Despite the fact that all the blood on his hands has reached an amount that he’s sure he’ll never truly be able to wash it all off, you don’t shy away from his touch. As a matter of fact, it seems like you’re keening for it.

“‘Gumi.” You mewl out, sticking out your tongue to lap at the precum on Megumi’s thumb.

You’re well aware of just how dangerous your boyfriend (the title makes you giddy every time you refer to him as that) is, but you know him. You know that the hands of a killer are the hands of your lover, and most of the time, you have a hard time believing the awful things he’s had to do with them. Because right now, those hands that are meant to be weapons are handling you with care, touching you so gently, you would have thought you were made of glass and ready to shatter.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. What happened to my precious, shy little girl, huh?” He removes the hand that was cradling your face back to his cock, stroking his length, the saliva from your tongue acting as a minor lubricant. The first time he fucked you was the first time you’ve ever had sex with anyone ever, and it had been the start of an addiction. You love Megumi. You love everything about him, from his character to his tenacity, all the way down to his cock, with its red tip that’s sticky with pre and leaking out more as he stares down at the obscene position you’re in.

Your face feels warm as he stares down at you, his eyes darkened with a mix of love and lust that you don’t think you’ll ever get used to being on the receiving end of.

“Need you, need you so bad, please, ‘Gumi—” You’re staring up at him, giving him your best doe eyes.

“Fuck.” Just the sight of you beneath him, completely bending to his will, whining out for him to pretty please fuck you has him ready to cum right on the fucking spot. He’s pressing the tip in, his breathing faltering just the slightest as the warmth you provide envelopes the most sensitive part of him, nearly causing him to lose all self control right then and there.

You let out a cry as he pushes himself deeper in you, making himself at home in your gummy walls, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding onto the headboard.

“You feel so good for me, baby, shit.” He hisses, waiting for you to adjust, impatient but willing to bear it if it means it’ll feel better for you in the long run. After all, there’s nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t endure, just to ensure your happiness.

“Mm — ah — please.” There are still tears welling up in your eyes — precious girl, he hasn’t even began to properly fuck you, and you’re already tearing up? The sight of you completely and willingly at his mercy is enough to get him to start rutting his hips against yours, the satisfying sound of skin slapping against skin resounding and bouncing against the walls of his bedroom that is starting to feel more like the both of yours.

“Y’feel so fuckin’ good for me, baby.” He groans, his pace quickening, the thrusts getting sharper and rougher with every roll of his hips. You’re powerless against his strength, and this type of easy submission feels so natural, feels so good, when it’s him that’s taking advantage of it. “You’ve got the sweetest pussy, y’know that? I could fuck you forever.”

His praise goes through one ear and out the other with you, but your heart swells up to twice its size. Even if you can’t focus on the words all too clearly, you’re still aware that Megumi’s probably praising you. You can come to this conclusion because he’s always praising you. He’s always so sweet, so gentle, so loving — when it comes to you, that is.

“Hng — daddy!” You can’t help but let out a high pitched moan as he hits that sweet spot inside of you that makes you buck your hips up.

There’s no way you don’t know what you’re doing. Clenching around his cock like that, making those cute little noises that he can’t help but want to hear all the time, and then calling him that.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.”

Forget igniting something within him; you whining for him, calling him something that’s the root cause of all his childhood traumas… That’s like dousing him with gasoline and tossing a lighter at him. He’s going to burn through all his energy, channel all this dark, feral energy, and use you as the one unfortunate enough to be on the receiving end.

He fucks into you so deeply that if your eyes weren’t shut tight, there’s no doubt that you wouldn’t see the unmistakable shape of his cock outlined against your tummy. The headboard is banging against the wall, and the squelching sounds of him roughly thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt is so lewd and so dirty that if you had any room to harbor a single ounce of shame, you would be downright embarrassed.

“How about you make me a daddy, huh? How about I fuck a baby in you?” He won’t lie and say it’s not something that’s never crossed his mind. The thought of your stomach round with a life the two of you created is enough to get him to continue with this near-brutal pace he’s set forth. “Doesn’t it sound nice, baby? My baby giving me a baby, what—” He grits his teeth as you tighten up. “—a fucking dream.”

“Baby. Wanna have your babies.” You cry out, tears spilling out and wetting your cheeks as your arms find their way to his neck and broad shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. The heat building up from within you feels like you’re about to fucking explode. “‘Gumi, I love you, Iloveyoupleasegimmeababy—'' Your words are practically unintelligible as you slur them out, the words sticking together as you cum all over his cock, all that pleasure that has been building up now physically tangible, if the white ring encasing his cock every time he pulls out is evidence.

“Fuck! You feel so fucking good. Always so fuckin’ tight.” He’s reaching his own end, and you’re just lying there, trying to recover from such an intense orgasm but unable to as your too sensitive walls clench around the constant intrusion of his cock. Spurred by your little love confession and his mind imagining his daydreams coming true — you, as his cute little housewife, taking care of the kids the two of you made together — he finally shoves himself as deep as he physically can, making sure that as he cums, nothing will spill out.

“‘Gumi.” You whisper, your head resting against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. “Did you mean it when you said you wanted to start a family?”

He’s silent for a minute.

“I wouldn’t mind starting a family with you.” And he means it. He knows this life isn’t one meant for children — look at how he turned out, for god’s sake — but he thinks that for you, he can do anything. Even make a family work out. As long as it’s what you want, he doesn’t mind how hard it may be.

You snuggle closer to him, burying your face in the warmth of his chest. “Good.” You mumble. “I wanna start a family with you, too.”

Megumi feels… at peace. Like he’s got the whole entire world in the palm of his hands. He wraps his arms around you, and realizes that no — right now, he’s got his world right in his arms.

Mahito likes to play with his food before he devours them whole.

Humans are just so… vulnerable. Even the coldest people have a heart; it’s only a matter of whether or not they find someone warm enough to defrost it. Megumi Fushiguro, for example, likes to walk around this world, acting indifferent and claiming to follow his own moral conduct, only to give himself the biggest weakness he could possibly harbor: you.

He still remembers that party. He still remembers the way you were dressed like a little slut, completely oblivious (or maybe you were just acting coy) to the wolfish stares all the guys were giving you. He had the same class as you. Seen the way you clung to Gojo’s charity case, as if the ground would swallow Megumi whole if you let go of him. You’re cute, and you scream naive virgin, and that’s precisely why Mahito wanted to take you to that bedroom and have his way with you.

And then, your infamous little guard dog bared his teeth and pummeled him into the hardwood of a stranger’s bedroom floor.

Grudges are cancerous. If you don’t deal with it right away, it develops into something worse. It takes over all your internal organs, ruining you ‘til the only thing you can focus on is getting revenge. And the longer you wait, the more vengeful you get. It doesn’t become a matter of ruined pride or reestablishing honor — it becomes about inflicting the most pain one possibly can. It becomes about suffering — about transferring your pain, your anguish, onto someone else.

Mahito isn’t the type to hold grudges, but for Megumi, he’ll make a special exception. He wants to see just how well trained the boy is; after all, he’s been taken under the wing and supervision of Satoru Gojo, the myth himself. Surely, his student must be nearly as skilled, right?

It’s been a long game of watching and waiting on Mahito’s end. A lot of lurking in the shadows and gathering intel. It’s a lot more boring than he anticipated, but today’s the day where all his hard work finally comes to fruition. Megumi Fushiguro is going to regret ever interfering with him that one fateful night. The burning humiliation he’s felt has long since fizzled out, but since he’s already been set on the path of orchestrating Megumi’s destruction, he figures it only makes sense to see it through. You only can let go of a grudge after you get your proper revenge.

He’s been leaving Megumi all sort of taunting, teasing threats any chance he gets. Mahito’s got nothing but disgraced yakuza members on his side; those who have committed acts vile enough to get them kicked out of what is essentially a group of criminals. He knows how to be twisted — hell, twisted might be the only thing he knows how to be.

Killing girls that resemble you and sending him the photos. Taking videos of you when you’re out in public alone. Leaving voicemails for Megumi, ones that leave him pale faced and unable to breathe as he listens to how Mahito wants to tortue you.

Megumi’s been on edge for the past few months, unable to explain to you why. It’s why you don’t understand why Megumi won’t let you go back to your car, even though you left your phone in there.

“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”

“You have to wait for our coffee! And besides, I don’t even know where I left my phone. It might not even be in the car, but you’ll just waste your time searching for it if it’s not there.”

“So then why do you have to go look for it?”

“Because it’s my phone? Also, I reeeeeallly don’t wanna have to wait for our coffee, so I figured looking for my phone in the car would kill some time.” You give him that sweet smile of yours that he loves so much before waving him goodbye. “I’ll be back by the time our order is ready, pinky promise!”

At the end of the day, it’s all luck. Mahito realizes this as you happily skip out of the crowded cafe, headed towards your car to search for your phone. He doesn’t know why you’re returning back to your car, doesn’t even really care. All he knows and all he cares about is that you’re headed there alone. And while you’ve been alone plenty of times, he’s never had an opportunity quite like this one. A chance to finally detonate the bomb that’s been lying dormant underneath your car, ready to be activated at the press of a button. He could’ve killed you plenty of times already, but it’s not enough to merely murder you. He wants to make it a spectacle, sure, but he also only cares about one audience member watching: Megumi.

From where he’s hiding, blending in with the rest of the customers from the bakery across the street, he’s got a decent enough view of Megumi, who’s sitting by the glass windows, watching you with furrowed brows as you unlock the car door.

Mahito can’t help the cruel smile that spreads across his face as pushes the remote connected to the bomb.

Nobody expects to hear the loud, resounding boom of something exploding. The surrounding cars parked next to yours have their alarms going off like crazy; it’s nothing but high pitched, blaring noises blending together to create a disruptive harmony. People are screaming, someone is on the line with emergency services, and—

—your precious car is set aflame, reduced to a burning pile of scrap metal no salvage yard will take.

In this moment, Megumi Fushiguro’s world crumbles to ashes.

#megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fluff #one shot #drabble #smut #megumi smut #jjk smut #jjk imagines #yakuza au #THIS IS SO OLD IM CRYING #like rereading it... omg what was i ON???

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cosmic-waves7 · 10 months

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy.

Note: I tried Smth new w howl, pls pls lmk if u like it cuz I was half asleep as I typed this out (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

He's jealous.

It was only a quick pitt stop at the Wizard Pendragon's shop (one of Howl's many aliases) that set it all off.

A calm morning for the Pendragon's moving household was set to start and the shop needed a bit of upkeep as customers were running dry. So with the creaky floorboards all swept up and Calcifer warned to not misbehave, the clock-like magical device that hung next to the door signalled with a resounding ding and a switch in colour indicating where the castle had teleported to.

There was a long day ahead but you couldn't be more pleased.

As the hours went on Howl worked in rhythm with you as tinkering laughter was heard throughout the shop and bubbling mixtures were stirred harmoniously in cauldrons. There was a calm air to your love as he flitted around you with hands briefly coming to couch and maybe even teasingly squeeze at your hips as he passed.

"Pass me the dandelion leaves ?", He asked while focusing on the lilac fluid seeping from the side of the potion bottle he was pouring into.

You nodded with a kiss atop his freshly midnight-dyed hair - courtesy of sweet Sophie, you know she didn't mean it but you couldn't thank her more for the darkened charcoal colour that had seeped into his golden locks- and off to the ingredients section you went muttering past bottles of all sorts.

Coming back empty handed with no dandelion leaves in sight you let your eyes wander to his sprawled out form in the chair by the fire, Howl only looked up and smiled a bit disappointedly before getting to his feet and tugging on his boots.

You could already see long black feathers creeping out his cloak, predicting his speedy mode of transport for the errand.

"I'll be back in a moment sweetheart, not to worry. Markle will take care of everything."

Knowing full well the small child would've dosed off by now as he'd left to play in the fields while you both worked, you were left to manage the quaint store while Howl flew out for after a dizzying kiss goodbye and mumbles of bringing you wildflowers to carefully twist into your hair.

Then and only then did a customer decide to come in.

He was a polite young man, easily flustered and a soldier of the royal palace you noted due to the bluish uniform donning his slightly hunched physique.

He was nervous.

You grinned trying to ignore his demeanour so that maybe the pink in his cheeks would lessen.

"Ma'am, the queen has requested for a simple sleep draught from the makings of your shop.", He coughed, "please." came soon quickly after he'd recollected himself and pulling at the yellowed buttons holding his vest together.

You hid your smile behind the worn glove that your sweet partner had embroidered a pathetic attempt of a small daisy onto which you very much cherished, it felt like you were talking to a mouse rather than a fully grown man.

"Why of course."

The man...boy even, settled into a lone seat to watch you set up, eventually gaining courage to invite you into bubbly conversation that you found very boring very fast hence weren't all too interested in so short sugared-up answers were all he received.

The 'banter' he thought he was receiving on your end was honestly faked curiousity.

It seemed he was quite dim. Too dim for your liking.

His puny attempts to indirectly flirt were unoriginal and simply unwelcome.

Just as you were starting up your potion with another lame probe on the topic of the weather about to leave the man's mouth, your beloved hurriedly came in. Cheerily he was chattering on about a bird he'd been able to fly up close to in in his bird-like form.

"Oh, you should have seen it's-", Howl interrupted himself to stare at the man sat atop the brass stool across your apothecary tabletop, "feathers?"

His demeanor immediately switched.

Gone was the gentle, patient magician you were so accustomed to. There stood an intimidating wizard and he oddly felt much taller, much more powerful than a split second ago.

This was the Howl Pendragon you'd only ever heard about through word of mouth, not the one that childishly insisted to cuddle up on your ill-fitted couch or cast silly spells to jokingly make your hair stick up in different directions.

No. This was a whole different feel of a person and it seemed like the magic was almost spilling out of him in waves, you could almost taste it's electric crackling force in the air.

He felt more confident, cocky, ready to rip into this poor man down to his basic self-worth.

You liked it.

His lips twitched.

"Darling, who is this?"

Howl's voice was always deep and smooth as silk, just as it was right now, yet you were no fool and could pick up on the the roughened edges of his tone.

But it seemed like the young soldier took no notice of the emotional state of the suddenly very upset wizard in his presence. He only turning around to bow deeply in respect while stuttering out a greeting and an explanation of his presence.

Howl only had a curt nod to give as a reply and you could tell he wasn't very ecstatic have a new face in here.

If he could roll his eyes at the 'competition', they'd roll all the way to the back of his head to see his brain.

The next few minutes were tense as he only grinned tightly and came to your side to place a very domineering palm on your corseted waist pulling you in closer to his warm body, sending a clear message.

"I'm sure you've got this one little potion down love?", He said with his eyes sharply glancing to the young man that had very clearly receded back into his shell at this point.

Howl didn't even need to say a word, didn't even need to properly look at the guard for him to metaphorically back away. But of course he had to ensure he got his point across, so what else could he do but dip down to deeply kiss your lips, he was only seconds away from basically pushing his tounge into your mouth if you didn't stop his dramatic live-performance.

Nodding satisfied with himself, you huffed whispering 'show off' while he stepped back to tend to his dandelion-leaf-less potion.

You couldn't even look up at the barstool your customer sat on anymore with the intense blush covering your face and you could only imagine the agony of embarrassment he was going through.

With the potion sealed up and a-way-over-the-actual-price bag of coins thrown at the counter, he promptly escaped out the door not even bothering to check for any change.

Shrugging you turned back to glare at Howl who was innocently blinking into space.

"Was the last part really necessary."

He slowly smirked, tendrils of his magic swirling past your shoulders.

"Whatever do you mean?"

You quickly found yourself within his grasp, pressing kisses to your knuckles as an apology.

You knew he wasn't sorry at all.

Loud laughter could be heard from a distance as Calcifer moved the castle along to wherever your hearts desired.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#headcannons #anime #fiction #fluff #howl's moving castle #howl jenkins pendragon #howl #howl pendragon x reader #howl x reader #howl jenkins

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b2cute · 10 days

Text

After Hours | Matt Sturniolo

authors notes: hi guys! i’ve been really busy but i want to try to be more active on this app because i love you guys so much! reminder that requests are open!

warnings: y/n (don’t kill me), fem reader, she/her pronouns, pet names, sex, no pull out, wrap before u tap!!!!, cussing?, lmk if i miss anything

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

It was 12:40 am and Matt still hadn’t arrived to pick me up from my friend's house. I was there all day and the night before, helping her prep for a big final coming up at our university. We met each other at a bar freshman year and now spend our late teenage years together. I found Matt through her when she invited me to her birthday party early into our friendship. I got to meet Nathan, a close friend of Matt’s and later found Matt because of him. Through the years of my relationship with Matt, we share plenty of memories and stories. He is sweet and takes good care of me. It took time for him to open up to me which is something I found interesting considering his now bubbly persona. Matt would start by shaking my hand and guiding me to his car. Now, he sprints to me and picks me up like a feather while carrying me to the car for our weekly dates.

Considering our different lifestyles, it's hard for me and Matt to see each of her as much as we desire. His love for YouTube and my constant studying made it impossible to get alone time, so when we were together he made the most out of it. For others, Matt is kind and shy with a friendly personality, but for me… well it's safe to say he hates my guts after hours.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

“Yeah just like that” she screams out. Her face was shoved into the plush silk pillows in his room. The lights were dim and the only sounds were y/n’s moans and slapping through the bedroom, maybe even the whole house. Matt continues pounding into her like there's no tomorrow. Even though she couldn't remember how many times she finished, y/n was still feigning for more. The way her tight walls hugged Matt's thick member made the two weak for each other. “Gonna be a good girl and give me a couple more right baby?” the sweaty brunette calls out. His figure was almost invisible in the room with nothing but a dark silhouette showing his lean body.

Matt continued fucking himself onto y/n, she couldn't take it anymore. Her body became numb and her legs gave out a long ago now being held by Matt's tattooed arm that snakes throughout her waist as he slowly bent down to place harsh kisses onto the girl's back. “Please mmph… can't take it anymore” the girl cried out. She was attempting to crawl away from the boy when she suddenly felt her body shift. Matt turned her limp body around so her head was on the back of the pillows. “You got it, almost done love just hang on” he grunts. Matt brings his arms to the backs of y/n’s thighs and lifts them back to her knees. The new angle brought a wave of pleasure as his head kissed her g-spot over and over. “Matt oh my g-god!” she moans out but the boy tuned her out long ago, only focusing on making her finish.

He slowed down his pace, pulling out until just the tip was in her, then slamming back in, repeating this over and over. Soft groans escaped the boy's lips as he held onto the girl, not letting her leave the state she was in.

“Matt seriously, no more” she cried out, “I'm done.” This only made Matt needier, bringing a hand lower to her puffy clit, rubbing hard circles with the pads of his fingers, occasionally leaving a light slap. Y/n jerked up from the pleasure, holding onto the boy's hair as a familiar knot in her stomach formed for the 3rd time. “C-close” she warned the boy as her eyes screwed shut from the sensation she felt. “M’ too, come with me babe” the boy growled fastening his pace. He left out numerous amount of thrusts before releasing his sticky seed inside y/n’s swollen cunt. “Matt!” y/n screams out, her back leaving the mattress as her hands grip the silky sheets underneath her. She squirmed underneath the boy and created the perfect “O” shape on her mouth. A series of cusses left Matt’s mouth as he panted hard after coming.

Trying to not hurt her, Matt slowly pulled out, the sight of their releasing oozing out of the girl. Wasting no time, Matt dips his head down legs y/n’s legs shoving the muscle in his mouth into her. “Too sensitive!” she cries out, her hands finding a home in his damp hair trying to pull him away. “Can't leave a mess, can we? Nick and Chris will notice” he smirks before diving back in. His tongue dances around the girl's cunt, cleaning everything up before light sucking her swollen clit. Y/n was a moaning mess, moving around and squirming at every little touch. When Matt felt satisfied, he pulled away, leaving one last kiss on her pussy and standing up.

The girl was lying down on the bed, her body almost paralyzed. Matt stood up, walked into the bathroom, and grabbed a damp towel to clean up anything left behind. After throwing it away, he went into the bed pulling Y/n into his arms, kissing the top of her head. He could feel her heart beating out her chest and he stroked her hair. “I love you, baby, you did so good for me” he cooed, planting kisses on her forehead. The girl let out a soft hum as she drifted into bed. Not being able to sleep, Matt grabbed his phone to see 40+ notifications from his group chat with Nick and Chris.

| For god's sake please shut the fuck up

| Matt you hooligan I can hear you over my music

| I give up.

The boy let out a soft laugh before shutting his phone off and bringing y/n closer to his chest, slowly drifting off to bed himself.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

taglist:

@mqttittude @luverboychris @knowingnothingnoel @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsdinosweater @n00dl3zzz @sophssturn @sstvrnioloo @sturnioloenthusiast @lolasturniolo o @mattsleftnipple03 @gracealwaysdisgrace @guccifrog @hearts4chriss @sttzee @stunza @fawned01 @sillysillygyal @skyslondon @stu2719962 @domaniquessidehoe @junnniiieee07

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hannieehaee · 5 months

Text

idol!seungcheol who's been going through a romantic rut for a few years, only ever focusing on his leader duties and having no time for anything outside of seventeen. that is, until incidentally bumping into hybeidol!you in the hybe hallways, forcing himself to interact with the pretty girl he's been seeing around the building lately.

wc: 559

a/n: thank u to whoever requested this <3 hope u like it c:

masterlist

cheol having seen you around the building before, not entirely sure when your group had first moved into the building, but having somehow taken specific notice of you, the pretty girl he'd caught a glimpse of at the hybe gym a few times.

your clear excitement at bumping into him making him get a giddy feeling inside he hadn't felt before, enjoying your clear admiration of him as an idol as you excitedly introduced yourself, informing him you were a huge fan.

wayy too proud at your obvious enthusiasm at meeting him, but feeling slightly bad at not even knowing your name or that of your group despite having seen you around before (but who could blame him when all he had in mind lately was purely seventeen).

despite being used to seeing pretty girls in the industry day after day, still being entranced by you upon that first meeting. he hadn't known he had a type, but now he was sure his type was you.

going home that day and looking you up, finally being able to put a name to the pretty face that had caught his eye a few times already.

binging all content related to your group, your idol profile, your debut, your company, when had your group moved into the building, your fancams, and fun facts only a fan would really know. when he was interested in something, he went deep. who could blame him?

going into the building the next day, nervous feeling in his stomach as he hoped to somehow make contact with you again, even walking by what he now knew to be your group's designated practice room - knowledge courtesy of boo seungkwan, who knew all the ins and outs of the building.

being disappointed at the end of the day when he hadn't had a chance to see you, but a smile finding its way back into his face upon entering the elevator and seeing that you were already in it.

making small talk with you, apologizing for not welcoming into the building when your group had first arrived, only to be interrupted by you telling him you understood he had a busy schedule, also being the leader of your own group and understanding the duties that came with it.

continuing to talk to you even after exiting the elevator, walking as slow as humanly possible in order to extend the conversation as much as you could, but sadly still approaching the building's parking lot, where each of your drivers were ready to take you home.

dreading leaving the conversation unfinished, going on a whim and asking you if he could get you a coffee in the company's cafeteria, if you weren't on a rush to get home, that is.

you, obviously accepting, having biased liked seungcheol since before debuting and knowing you'd be an idiot to reject his invitation.

spending most of the night talking and walking around the building, until you ultimately had to be called up by your managers to get home.

exchanging kakao id's with a promise of seeing each other whenever your hectic schedules as leaders allowed for it.

seungcheol excited for a new chapter in his life involving you, the pretty leader he'd only considered a fleeting nameless crush until meeting you properly, now looking forward to seeing you again and again.

a/n: this was kinda rushed and not proofread but if u wanna see more scenarios of this couple pls lmk <3

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writingstoraes · 10 months

Text

wrong wolff 🗯

pairing: charles leclerc/fem!wolff!reader

type: instagram imagine, social media au

notes: i am once again in a slump! i keep starting works and not finishing them midway lol hope you guys like this! let me know what u think 🤍

about: amidst the talks of charles' contract renewal at ferrari, rumors associating him with Mercedes arises as he is apparently offered a seat by their very own team principal. turns out, the Mercedes boss' daughter also grew close with the driver in the middle of all negotiations.

ynwolff

liked by susiewolff, danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 1,223,991 others

ynwolff finally back at the paddock to not only watch races, but annoy my dad while i'm at it 🏎️

tagged: mercedesamgf1

mercedesamgf1 The princess of the paddock is finally back!

susiewolff Dad has already sent 4 texts messages about how he lost sight of you 🤣

ynwolff don't worry, i was just looking around :)

brocedes23 So beautiful in person! Able to ask for a picture on her way to the Ferrari garage! ❤️

charlosluv WOAHH she watched the race there? pierresgirl Toto Wolff's daughter watching a race at the Ferrari garage now that's interesting... hold on

ynwolff

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, mercedesamgf1, and 906,445 others

ynwolff met with some nice people today :) hey, scuderiaferrari, your drivers are actually not all bad (one is surprisingly funny) 🤯

mercedesamgf1 Ferrari, please bring our boss' daughter back in one piece!

scuderiaferrari You have our word 👌

gaslys10 ok so she was actually at the ferrari garage this is so amazing of her lol

lecs1655 it's nice to see her getting along with other drivers, not a lot of this seen in the paddock ❤️

lovermidnights I think she's good friends with some drivers, recently Charles, she's with Toto usually when they go out, along with Lewis

charles_leclerc Thanks, funny is my best trait :D

ynwolff sure, i was talking about you 😁 charles_leclerc Pretty snappy response from someone who can't stop laughing at my basketball joke ynwolff i was laughing at you, not because of you, there is a difference charles_leclerc Sure, whatever you say 🤷‍♀️

ferrariscud NOT Y/N AND CHARLES FLIRTING AT THE COMMENTS?? IN FRONT OF MY SALAD???

ynwolff

liked by susiewolff, charles_leclerc, mercedesamgf1, and 1,451,556 others

ynwolff photoshoots and whatnot 📸 had to include this helmet i looove so much (glad the photographer loved it, too)

mercedesamgf1 Wolff serving as always!

susiewolff My gorgeous daughter 💓

charles_leclerc I hope next time you play badminton as good as you look

ynwolff did you just call me pretty carlossainz55 LOL charles_leclerc No? I said you suck at badminton ferrarigirlie charles is so me when flirting

charles_leclerc recently added to his instagram story!

charles_leclerc

liked by ynwolff, susiewolff, mercedesamgf1, and 1,442,985 others

charles_leclerc I, in fact, signed a contract today: to take her out for as many ice cream dates as she wishes and watch a dozen of her favorite movies in one day.

tagged: ynwolff

ynwolff pleasure doing business with you, chuckles

charles_leclerc So you admit, I was the funny one

mercedesamgf1 Business-minded just like her dad 🫡

loveswolff THIS IS SO CUTE

ricciardochamp she is both a wag and the boss' daughter, unmatched

ynwolff

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, susiewolff, and 1,238,990 others

ynwolff loving him is definitely red ❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

carlossainz55 Finally! Charles won't stop whining asking me when I think you're going to post him 🙄

charles_leclerc Whatever happened to teammate confidentiality carlossainz55 I like her more than you, she's nicer so

susiewolff Dad would like to clear some things: he did not just say all the nice things about Charles just because you're his girlfriend, in fact, in his own words, he knew him first

ynwolff my own father competing with me? charles_leclerc 😅😅😅

----------

tagging: @slytherheign

notes: this was quite lengthy i got carried away sorry lol anyway lmk what u guys think! currently working on wip's and requests hehehe also thinking of doing a permanent taglist, would anyone be interested in joining hehehehe

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py-dreamer · 20 days

Text

Man I am on a roll these days!

I love this doll base for the lmk characters, I actually drew some designs for the other lmk characters in this base in a notebook and as much as I would like to post them, Idk if that'll be any time soon.

I know in the show, Mk's headband is his signature. Even since childhood, I get that but I also saw a design of kid MK with him without the headband and fell in love.

Also he has light up sketchers. Cause why not.

It was a lot of fun doing the crayon drawings and seems like red and yellow are our lil prince's favorite colors, though it was a bit difficult to do them on such a small scale and at a slanted angle.

why does Mk have random building blocks?....

...

(I genuinely don't know)

Looking back, I do wish I made the toys a little more scuffed up cause while I do believe Pigsy would buy some toys and new clothes for his son the kid but I do love the idea that many of MK's old toys were hand me downs or at least second handed from Pigsy's past or even any cousins giving old toys or heck. Maybe some of Tang's university students found out their teacher has a new kid and give some old stuff to help out since Mk is a sweet kid and his appearance was quite spontaneous.

Perhaps that doll is a clone Wukong placed to keep an extra eye on the boy

BTW that love heart is NOT romantic in any way you creeps. Like how a child loves a toy, there is nothing weird happening here.

WUKONG IS HIS GODDAMN DAD/FATHER FIGURE AND IF YOU GENUINELY SHIP PEACHYNOODLES, GET OUT

OUT OF THIS HOUSE!

I try to respect different ships and opinions. I try my best.

But we see in the show, their father-son dynamic. I know there is a ship format of mentor x student but there is a clear parental relationship here!

It just feels icky, especially when you consider the inbalance of both power and experience in any 'romantic' context

Sorry, I just went on a tangent there, but hope you enjoy the actual piece and enjoy the easter eggs (>u ')/

(also out of curiosity, are any of you interested in the stopmotion film, Kubo and the two strings cause there might be a new au on the horizon!)

208 notes · View notes

muniimyg · 6 months

Text

4.5: say it 》 series m.list

note: some feelings, some banter,, some smut at the beginning of the 3rd scene <3 have fun,, enj !!! do we like yuna and tae? vibes on... the jealousy? lmk what u guys think !!!mwah <3 updating sooon

taglist request: send a request with the title of this fic “c2u” // DO NOT comment here or on the masterlist . it gets confusing and i prefer answering and tagging through asks !!!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @boraength @era-genius @4ksj @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns @jeonqkooks-main

fic taglist: @mint--yoongs @ellesalazar @bloopkook

Soccer was something Jungkook was known for on campus.

It never occurred to you just how well-known he was until now… Yet, it doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together. Jungkook had quit the team out of boredom and curiosity only to be begged back in as if he’s their ace.

Okay, fine.

… He probably is the ace.

Jungkook comes off as too perfect. It’s quite irritating, actually. He has decent grades, a fun friend group, and a well-balanced lifestyle. You can’t help but hate that being a part of his routine for the past few weeks has you in this emotional state: needy.

You’ve never felt this way before.

Before the arrangement between you and Jungkook was made, you two barely saw each other. His life consisted of school, soccer, and friends. You only ran into him at parties or friendgroup outings. Having one class with him every other semester has to be the closest you two have ever been.

You’ve never missed anyone before and although there’s an underlying warm feeling—your feelings of frustration and annoyance have never been stronger. His absence may have gotten your heart to grow fonder of him—but your anger and resistance to him continue to linger.

It’s almost like a haunting feeling.

As much as you want to carry on with your day and act like you aren’t waiting for his clingy text messages; you can’t help but itch and wonder what he’s doing and who he’s with. Though his text messages yesterday provided you with some sort of comfort and assurance, you can’t help but feel uneasy about all of this.

About him.

“Earth to ____?” Yuna waves her hands in front of your face. Snapping out of your thoughts, you offer her a warm smile. “Geez, you’re so out of it these days… Are you feeling sick?”

You shake your head.

For a moment there, you were so lost in thought you forgot where you were. For a brief moment, you look out the window and notice the gloomy clouds before turning back to your space. The library is fuller than usual and Yuna is sitting in front of you with her laptop and notebook. She’s been talking for the past 20 minutes about…

Something.

You can’t recall.

Maybe you should start listening to her more… You’re truly the worst friend ever.

“You look worried… Do you have an exam you didn’t study for or something?” Again, you shake your head in response. Yuna hums as she taps her fingers on her chin. Thinking to herself, she creates a solution.

“Do you wanna come with me and see Taehyung?”

You raise an eyebrow at her. “Why would I want to see Taehyung?”

She shrugs, putting her hands up in defeat. “…. Was just suggesting.”

Leaning towards her, you cheekily ask; “fess up. Do you have feelings for him?”

A gasp escapes her lips as she covers her mouth with her hands. Yuna furrows her eyebrows together and looks at you in panic. “Is the ____ interested in my love life? For the first time in forever? When did you get a nose job? You’re so nosy!”

You cover your nose and glare at her.

“Shut up! Jungkook just mentioned that—”

“Jungkook, huh?” Yuna switches her hand placement immediately. She leans forward to you, putting her elbows on the table, and rests her chin on the palm of her hands. “What’s up with you two? I must’ve been wasted as hell that night at karaoke because if what I saw was true… Boy, do you owe me a girls night…”

Gulping, you keep your chin high. “What do you mean? What did you see that night?”

“He’s into you.”

“Jungkook is into everyone—”

“Yeah, right!” Yuna disagrees passionately, earning a few hushes from other students nearby. In a whispering tone, she continues. “Jungkook barely pays attention to the guys—his own friends! He does what he wants, shows up when he wants, eats what he wants and maintains his slutty figure, and parties when and with who he wants—I think… He wants you. He kept giving you fuck me eyes all night… And you! Don’t act all innocent. I saw you sulking like a little bitch! Which.. Is new? I’ve never seen you clingy before… Not with any of your exes... Not even with me."

You roll your eyes at her. Though her words rang true, you refuse to yield. If Yuna, the densest human in the world, can figure you out... You're fucked.

“You’re right.”

Yuna’s eyes light up. “Really?”

“You were sooo wasted that night.”

After a few hours of studying, you and Yuna pack your things up. She practically begs you to come with her as she meets up with Taehyung. In all honesty, it didn’t take much convincing. For some reason, you say yes with the tiniest bit of hope that Jungkook would be with him.

Although, you don’t ask.

Hurrying out of the library, Yuna instantly spots Taehyung. With a toothy smile, he waves and picks up his pace. He greets Yuna with a pat on her head and you by nudging your arm.

“Where’s Jungkook?”

Shrugging, you look around as if you could spot Jungkook. Shyly, you answer, “thought he was with you.”

“He came home late yesterday…” Taehyung says as if it mattered for you to know. “I assumed he was with you.”

In response, you shake your head at him. “Nope. I haven’t seen him in a while… Last time was when we got coffee—”

You wince at the memory.

“You okay?” Yuna’s face falls concerned. Taehyung looks at you rather confused. She hits his arm and confides in him. “See what I mean? She’s been like this all day.”

Taehyung tightens his lips as he gives your odd behaviour some thought. “Maybe she’s sleep-deprived. Are you sleepy, ___? You look a little tired.”

“Maybe the break-up is finally hitting her. Do you miss him, ___? Is that it?” Yuna suggests rather passionately. “You know, I miss him! He was a good boyfriend and you seemed happy—”

You huff, feeling defeated. “I’m just tired. I guess I’m more tired than I realize. I think I should just head home… I’ll catch up with you guys next time.”

Yuna shoves Taehyung away and pulls you in a hug. She sways you two side to side and cries; “my poor baby, ____! Feel better, okay?”

Laughing, you ask Taehyung to help you peel your best friend off of you. When Yuna lets go and gives you space, her eyes suddenly squint as if she has just seen something unpeculiar. Then, she rubs her eyes to be sure.

“Is that Jungkook?”

You turn your head and feel your heart clench.

It feels conflicted.

Yes, that was Jungkook.

… But with whom?

Before you can escape or avoid eye contact with him, Taehyung has already waved them over. Jungkook nods, acknowledging you all. He crosses the street and you turn around, keeping your head low. You do this because for some reason you feel all shy… Like you didn’t just have sex with him a week ago—in front of a mirror.

“Whose that?” Yuna asks, disregarding the fact that the two were practically a three feet away.

“Who knows,” Taehyung scoffs. “Secret girlfriend? Sneaky link? Who knows with that kid.”

Yuna gasps. “No way! I thought he was into ___—”

“Hey,” Jungkook greets brightly. Taehyung and Yuna greet him with the same energy. He offers a big smile as he stands beside you and pinches your waist. You itch away and avoid eye contact. From the corner of his eye, he catches your behaviour and feels confused.

In a low tone, only loud enough for you to hear; he mutters, “Don’t ignore me. That’s fucking annoying.”

You don’t move. Still, you ignore his seductive words.

He tilts his head at you but figures you’re just in a mood. Shifting his focus, Jungkook breaks the ice. “Where you guys going?”

“I just met up with them like a few minutes ago,” Taehyung explains. “We were gonna grab dinner but I think—”

“Hi, I’m Yuna!” your best friend interrupts Taehyung. She stretches her hand out for the girl to shake. She takes Yuna’s hand and shakes it. “This is Taehyung and my best friend ___!”

You raise your head and offer a short-lived smile. A simple, “hi,” is all you manage to choke out.

Mina has short brown hair and pretty eyes. She’s a little shorter than you and has Jungkook’s towel hanging on her arm.

You feel sick.

“Nice to meet you guys! I’m Mina, Jungkook’s friend…” she pauses and lets out a shy laugh. “Actually, I’m more of his fan than I am his friend.”

Like a groupie? Ew.

Jungkook joins her and laughs. “She usually sits around with her friends on bleachers and watches our practices. We’ve been catching up since I got back in with the team. We were going to get dinner too.”

Taehyung and Yuna nod, taking in the information. “Well, do you want to join us?” Yuna suggests. “___ isn’t feeling well so she was going to go home. It’d be nice to have better company! ___’s been so out of it today—”

You shush her.

“You okay?” Jungkook brings his attention to you.

It feels like you’ve just been kicked in the stomach. When did Jungkook’s gaze ever feel this… weird? It’s difficult to describe but it’s like you’re nervous or something. All you can really do is nod in response.

“I’m okay,” you assure him.

“You sure?” he presses, taking a step closer to you.

He’s much closer to you this time and your body betrays you by staying still. You don’t move. You don’t even flinch. If anything, you take a deep breath and inhale his scent. It’s comforting after all the days you’ve spent away from him. From the corner of your eye, you can see Yuna begin to get excited to be witnessing this moment. When you can sense that she’s about to explode in best friend behaviour, you make your move.

“Can I talk to you?” you blurt. “Please? It’s about that thing…”

Jungkook blinks.

“Sure,” he doesn’t hesitate. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Text me the address. I’ll just drive ___ home so we can talk.”

You're thankful he says this. You're thankful he goes along with your request without question. For a second there, you weren't sure if he was on your side.

Rather, you worried if he liked you enough to choose you regardless of the mix-signals and thus far constipated interaction.

Mina offers a warm smile in return, but you can’t help but notice the disappointment in her eyes as Jungkook takes your tote bag off of your shoulder and carries it. He assures Mina that he’s leaving her in great hands and that he’ll be there no later than 30 minutes.

“I parked my car that way,” Jungkook points towards the end of the street. “Let’s go?”

“Yeah,” you almost stutter. “I’ll see you guys next time. Nice to meet you, Mina.”

“You too! Feel better,” she says sincerely. “See you in a bit, Jungkook?”

“See you in a bit,” he promises. Mina takes his word for it.

Jungkook bids his last goodbye before grabbing your wrist and practically dragging you to leave. As he does so, you watch Mina, Taehyung, and Yuna wave you two goodbye. Even a few feet apart, you can practically hear Yuna begin her gossip session.

“See? He’s so into her!”

Unlike last time, there was no issue.

Oh, it was up.

Jungkook hisses at your touch.

As you take his cock out, you run your thumb across the tip. You pump him, feeling his velvety skin follow the way you move your wrist. He’s thick—practically two hands on deck kind of thick. In fact, he looks even bigger in your hands. Maybe it’s the LED lights in his car or the fact that he hasn’t cum since your last meet-up—but he was bigger than usual today. If anything, it made you drool.

Dipping your head low, you stick your tongue out and move his cock with your hands. You slap it against your needy tongue before closing your mouth and sucking on it.

Bobbing your head, Jungkook can’t resist. He grabs a fistful of your hair and begins to push your head up and down. He holds your head close, making sure his dick touched the back of your throat. You gag and he takes that as a sign to let go. Pulling away, you take a quick breath in before puckering your lips at him.

He shifts from his laid-back position and leans forward. Jungkook wraps his hand around your neck and brushes his thumb against your puffy lips.

“You know how I like it,” he utters. “Missed this fucking mouth. Begging for kisses?”

With hopeful eyes, you nod.

“Anything my girl wants,” Jungkook leans in and kisses you slowly. He pulls away after just three kisses. “... My girl gets.”

“Kiss me lots,” you whine.

Jungkook’s stomach turns. If it could do flips, that’s what it does. He would be an idiot not to know why you were acting this way… Yet, he still wanted to have fun.

“Make me cum and I’ll kiss you all you want.”

With that, you get back to it.

You spit on his dick as you pump him at a slow pace. His hands travel to your shirt, pulling at the neckline to see your cleavage. You let go of him to lift your arms. Without hesitation, Jungkook helps remove your shirt and admires your breasts in a plain black bra.

Suddenly, you shift your position. The passenger seat is extremely uncomfortable considering you’re giving him head… But this part must be the hardest part. You lean your body towards him more, prioritizing your breasts. Somehow, you manage to bend a certain way and slip his dick in between your tits.

“Holy shit—” Jungkook cries as he begins to lose it.

You bite your lip, trying your best to make this work. You hold your breasts closer together as he begins to pump himself. Every time Jungkook lifts his hips to dig himself deeper in, you can’t help but like the way the head pops up.

It’s almost cute.

The position doesn’t last very long. You begin to cramp and Jungkook misses your mouth. So, you switch back to giving him a blow job. Then, that doesn’t last very long because Jungkook can’t do it anymore—he can’t hold it in. His breath hitches as you suck his dick. He throws his head back and hisses your name.

“___,” he cries, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Then, he cums.

He spills himself into your mouth and you swallow. As he empties himself, you take it upon yourself to lick his dick clean. Today, his cum tasted sweeter than usual. You wonder if his diet changed or if you just haven’t tasted him in a while.

Jungkook stares in amazement as you finish him off. He can’t help but let his mind spin as his body tingles from the sensation you caused. When you finish, you straighten yourself out and he hands you your shirt. Putting it on, you sit yourself back properly in the passenger seat and sigh in relief. Jungkook tucks himself back in.

“Good talk,” you joke, attempting to lighten the mood.

Oddly enough, you feel awkward. What were you supposed to do now? After you two got into his car, it didn’t take much time before you threw yourself at him. Happily, he received your kisses and took it upon himself to drive towards his place. Parked outside his home, the coast was clear. You gave him head and now you feel stuck.

Jungkook notices the panic in your eyes and reaches his hand out. He places them on your upper thigh, causing you to look at him.

“What’s up with you?” Jungkook can’t help but ask. “You miss me too much?”

You scoff, “as if.”

He laughs, moving closer to you. Jungkook rubs your thighs innocently and squeezes it. It’s comforting for some reason… You like the way he touches you.

“Spit it out, pookie.”

You shrug. “Nothing. Just wanted to give you head. You can take me home now.”

“Ha!” Jungkook taunts you. He then removes his hand from your thigh and reaches for his phone on the dashboard. Looking at the time, his eyes widen.

“Shit!”

“What?”

“It’s been an hour? Mina called me like five times. I’m late—no, I missed it.”

Giving him head didn’t take an entire hour.. No, it was the flirting and the clingy talk that took majority of the time. Convincing him to let you give him head? That wasn’t even a conversation that needed to be done. It was always yes for you. So, you took your time.

Flirting.

Kissing.

And giving him a sloppy blowjob that completed the 1 hour mark of stalling.

Your lips curve into a small smile. Looking away, you feel a sense of relief. You aren’t proud of yourself but… This was something you could live with. As you stay silent, you think of what you could possibly say in this situation without coming off suspicious.

But, your silence lasts a second too long.

“Wild guess but… Did you give me head so I’d miss the dinner?” Jungkook theorizes.

You turn to him, eyebrows knitted together and your head slightly tilted to look confused. “Are you blaming me for missing the dinner?”

“Are you gaslighting me?”

You’re tongue-tied. For the first time in forever, you have no come back. Your brain can’t think of any words. Slowly and then all at once, you felt like a stupid idiot sitting in his car. Had you gone too far? You’ve never seen yourself act upon jealousy like this… You have no excuse. You have no explanation. You don’t feel like yourself.

“Mina’s pretty. Is she your type?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer your question. Partly because he didn’t want to entertain whatever you had stirring up in your mind and partly because he didn’t want to feed tour ego.

“___? What’s up with you?”

“I don’t know.”

He sighs, not knowing whether he finds this irritating or cute. Why would you sabotage something so meaningless? Dinner with friends? It’s not like you weren’t invited either… His thoughts lead him to one question: “I think you’re acting jealous. Are you jealous?”

Unsure of what to do, you decide to give up. “Are you going to be mad at me if I admit that I am?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Is this you admitting that you are?”

You reply in silence.

“___?”

“Give me a fucking minute, okay? I’m trying to figure out if I should lie or not,” you groan. Taking a moment, you look into his eyes. “Am I supposed to lie, Jungkook?”

Now, he feels choked. “Maybe.”

You blink at him.

Before you can stop yourself from the words that have been spiraling through your head all day—you confess softly; “I’m jealous.”

His head begins to spin. Is this what post-orgasm depression is? The pit of his stomach feels weird…

Taking a deep breath, you shift your body to face him as best as you can. Fidgeting with your fingers, you push yourself to admit the ugly truth: “I don’t think I can lie about it… Jungkook, I don’t like it. I don’t like seeing you with other girls and I’m annoyed you have a little fan club. So, yeah. I sucked your dick so you’d miss your little date. I’m sorry, it was selfish of me… So, go catch up with her if you want…. I was out of place. I don’t care anymore—”

“Yes you do,” he cuts you off.

You gulp, noticing the way his eyes have lit up.

“Say it,” Jungkook insists. “Say it and I won’t go.”

With shifty eyes, you ask, “really?”

In all honesty, he wasn’t looking for a specific word or phrase. He just wanted you to say it. Say something. Make this fuck session mean something.

Jungkook breathes, “I’m all yours if you want me to be.”

“Yikes…”

He shoots you a glare. You’ve ruined the moment.

Jungkook reaches over and unlocks your door. “Fine. I gotta get going. You can walk home from here, right? Mina won’t mind me being a little late—”

You hit his chest with an annoyed look on your face.

He smirks, “say it.”

“Jungkook,” you begin. “Don’t make me feel this way, okay? The second you continue this vibe, I’m going to expect more from you and that’s not what we—”

“Then expect more,” Jungkook scoffs. “It’s simple, ____. If you’re jealous, tell me. If you like me, tell me. If you hate this and want out—give me at least two weeks’ notice so I can emotionally prepare.”

A part of your heart feels like it’s being tugged. Was he always this good with words? For some reason, you find it humorous. “You bring up confessing a lot… Are you trying to tell me something, pookie?”

“Please,” Jungkook laughs. “I’m not here to play stupid games and win stupid prizes. I’m not confessing until I have you absolutely in love with me… Pookie, this jealousy thing? It’s just the start. Just a little longer and you’ll be standing outside my window in the pouring rain, begging for me.”

In response, you make a puking face at him. “Shut up. The minute you get jealous, I’ll make you eat your words.”

He leans in and puckers his lips. “Why waste your time getting me to eat my own words when I can eat something else?”

You cup his face and squish his lips together. Pressing your lips against his, you pull away quickly with a cheeky smile. “Keep entertaining your little fan club and you’ll be eating nothing.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “It’s not my fault they watch while we practice—”

“Jungkook.”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

He does just that.

Jungkook buckles your seatbelt and then his. Turning on the engine, he pulls out of his driveway and begins to drive you home. It’s a short 15 minute ride, but it’s filled with your rambling and constant shuffling of songs in his playlist.

As he stays silent, half-assed listening to you; he soaks in your presence and can’t find a single fibre in his body to be mad at you. He knows that what you did tonight was unacceptable. You had caused Mina to look like she got stood up and jeopardized a perfectly peaceful night by earning him a place on Taehyung’s hot seat of questions later tonight… But it’s okay.

With the smile on your face and the way you hesitate to reach for his hand as he drives; he can’t but help to feel like it’s worth it. Your hand will take his without a second thought one day. One day, you’ll be a part of the little fan club you hate so much. One day, it’ll work out because it has to.

If he never goes through these exact moments with you, maybe he wouldn’t have known his feelings for you… But, he does and it’s so clear to him.

Jungkook will wait for you.

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