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meo66 · 4 days
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Reblog if it's okay to befriend you, ask questions, ask for advice, rant, vent, let something off your chest, or just have a nice chat.
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meo66 · 4 days
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“all i see is smut” “why can’t i find fluff and angst and not smut” “how come fluff isn’t—”
yet when nonsmut fics come across your dash you don’t support it by circulating it with a reblog. smut is pushed because it’s the smut audience that tends to be more supportive when it comes to boosting the fics they read 💗
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meo66 · 5 days
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want him to bury his face in my neck and tell me i smell good. . . and perhaps go in for a taste
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meo66 · 5 days
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actually i love growing older and learning how i work as a person like realizing what kinds of fabrics feel best on my skin or what brand of yogurt i like best or how I want to be touched. watching myself change, enjoying brussel sprouts when I used to hate them as a child, understanding why I got angry in that one conversation 10 years ago… there are so many mysteries inside me that i have yet to unravel and there will always be more and sometimes i think maybe its all worth it
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meo66 · 5 days
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just so you know
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meo66 · 11 days
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I think getting over the head with a metal pipe could fix me tbh
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meo66 · 11 days
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“death to america!!!!!!” okay anyway have you considered running for local government or supporting a nonprofit that combats homelessness or volunteering at a community garden or driving old people who need a ride to the grocery store or doing anything to better your community instead of circle jerking on the internet abt the Glorious Revolution that’s not going to happen.
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meo66 · 25 days
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you noticed me ⚾︎
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{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}
summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names.
word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)
authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.
and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?
there he was in all of his emo glory.
number eighteen.
focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.
“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.
“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”
you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.
“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.
your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”
you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.
“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”
“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”
she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”
“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”
she snorted. “are you sure?!”
you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.
you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”
“suit yourself!”
a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.
she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.
“i told yuji.”
you blinked. “told him what?”
“that you like fushiguro.”
“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”
“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”
“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”
your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”
you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”
“megumi also played really well today.”
“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.
“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”
“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.
he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”
you snorted, “elaborate please.”
yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.
“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.
your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”
“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”
“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.
yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”
“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”
he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”
you stared blankly.
“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”
you kept staring.
“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”
you blinked.
“y/n?”
“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”
your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”
“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”
“because your eyes are red.”
“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”
you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”
“y/n…” yuji trailed off.
“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”
and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.
it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?
this was the reality. you never stood a chance.
so why were you crying?
you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.
you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.
you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.
megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?
he never felt so out of reach.
“here.”
your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.
“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”
the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.
but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.
“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”
“for what.”
you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.
not that you could even see in the first place.
“for looking like a loser.”
the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”
you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.
“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”
“that’s the point,” he hums.
“how come?”
“i get migraines everyday. they help.”
“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”
you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”
you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”
“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”
you snickered, “what? loserrr.”
you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.
“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”
you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.
“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”
you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.
“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.
“why is that.”
“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”
the stranger man stopped.
“…why?”
“because he indirectly broke my heart.”
you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.
at least someone is having fun right now.
“how did he indirectly break your heart?”
“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”
“did he?”
“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”
the stranger man hummed.
“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”
“why do you like him?”
“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.
you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”
you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”
you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”
the stranger man laughed a little.
“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”
“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”
you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”
you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”
“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.
“yup.”
the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”
“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.
it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.
“i’m sorry i made you cry.”
you jumped back.
“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”
you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.
and when they did?
megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.
your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.
“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.
you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.
his smile widened.
oh my god.
megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.
but he was smiling.
“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”
“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.
“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”
he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.
“you don’t have to do that.”
“yes i do—”
“you don’t have to forget me either.”
“that i definitely do—”
you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.
“hold on y/n—”
megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.
y/n?
you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.
“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.
“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”
you nodded, eyes blank.
“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.
oh.
oh that’s right.
you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.
“oh.”
he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.
“dummy.”
“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.
his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”
megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.
you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.
cute.
“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”
“do you have a ride home?”
you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”
he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.
he paused and looked over his shoulder.
“you coming?”
your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”
he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”
“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”
he stared lazily.
“come.”
you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.
megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.
you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.
his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.
megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—
he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.
“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.
megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.
“can you put your address in—”
“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”
you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.
forty fucking minutes.
“megumi..”
his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.
“hm?”
“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”
you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”
“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.
“i’ll jump out.”
he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.
“i have child lock on.”
“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”
“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”
you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”
he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.
“what do you do?”
you fidgeted. “h—huh?”
“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”
he’s asking you?
“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”
he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”
you grimaced.
do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?
you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”
he raised an eyebrow.
“i— don’t?”
he cocked his head. “you don’t?”
you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.
“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”
you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”
you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”
he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.
you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.
megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.
you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.
“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.
your eyebrows furrowed.
he was still thinking about that?
you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”
he huffed out a laugh.
megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.
well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.
megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.
you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.
“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”
he shook his head. “it’s alright.”
you went in to close the door.
“y/n.”
you leaned back down, “yeah?”
“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”
you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.
“i— i don’t think so.”
“good.”
megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.
“i’ll see you then.”
as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.
the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.
as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.
once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.
he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.
“who are you waving at?”
your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.
“who is- fushiguro?!”
you looked at her sheepishly.
as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.
“i have to tell yuji—”
“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”
“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”
“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”
“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.
that’s how it went for about a month.
you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.
but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.
but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.
when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.
“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”
“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”
“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”
“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.
“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”
she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”
you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.
“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”
she nodded eagerly.
“i swear!”
so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.
you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.
finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.
“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”
“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.
your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.
“hi.”
you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
you gulped.
“h—hi.”
“i didn’t think you’d come.”
he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.
“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”
he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.
“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”
you faltered.
he noticed that?
“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”
for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.
“are you—”
“fushiguro!”
you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.
“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”
megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.
the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.
“hi! i’m takuma!”
you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”
“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”
you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.
at his own banquet.
“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”
takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”
you nodded, “mhm!”
the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.
you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.
“is anyone sitting here?”
“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”
“take mine ino.”
megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”
huh?
“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”
he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.
and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.
“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”
“mhm.”
your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.
the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.
your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.
he stared at your enamored look.
“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.
but he did.
“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.
your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”
megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.
“here.”
your eyes traveled down.
“what?”
“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.
shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”
megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.
“i have four others. it’s fine.”
“no but—”
he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.
yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.
your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.
“t—thank you gumi…”
his lips twitched.
you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.
and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.
megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.
“they met at a party didn’t they?”
you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”
he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”
your jaw dropped. “you were?!”
he nodded. “and i remember you too.”
you sat there in silence.
how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?
before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.
you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”
he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”
“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”
megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”
your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”
he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”
“don’t be sorry gumi…”
you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.
but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.
“do you want to leave?”
he turned his head to the side and looked at you.
“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”
you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.
“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”
he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.
your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”
you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.
“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”
you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”
“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.
“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.
“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”
your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”
“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”
“y/n!”
you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”
“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”
“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”
“i can definitely see why!”
he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”
yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.
“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”
“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”
“i don’t know!”
“well call megumi over—”
suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.
“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”
yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.
“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.
megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.
“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”
you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.
he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”
“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.
you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.
you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.
the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.
you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.
“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.
“me neither.”
“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.
“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”
you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”
the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.
“it’s okay. i trust you.”
you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.
“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.
your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”
he hummed, “how come?”
“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”
“i have a sweet tooth.”
your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”
“you’re not?”
“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”
megumi liked how much you talked.
“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.
you nodded. “have you?”
“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”
met his dad?
megumi spotted your confusion and continued.
“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”
your eyes softened.
“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”
“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.
he nodded. “i do.”
he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”
you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.
“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.
“i love it.”
you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.
“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”
he nodded.
“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”
“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”
you giggled.
“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”
you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”
you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”
megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.
“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.
everyone thinks he’s rude.
your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”
he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”
you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”
you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.
you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.
“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.
megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.
“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.
his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.
you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.
your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.
and then you pulled away with a wet pop.
“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”
what?
megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.
he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”
“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”
megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”
“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.
megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.
“y/n.”
you stopped. “what.”
he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”
“helpless and a creep.”
he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”
he stood and offered his hand out for you.
“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”
megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.
you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.
you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.
you kissed megumi fushiguro.
“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”
“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”
your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”
“that was for stability! he—”
“no it was to feel you up!”
you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—”
“y/nnnn!”
as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—
and he couldn’t find you.
this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.
except you never did.
and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.
“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.
“hi.”
he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”
megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”
she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”
“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”
“because—” she stammered. “well because—”
“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.
“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.
“i don’t know!”
“let’s just tell him!”
“but what if!—”
megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”
your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.
“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.
“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.
so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.
and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—
but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.
and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.
and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?
and it was all because of you, you realized.
you made him upset.
you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.
“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”
“i can take a wild guess.”
she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”
she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.
most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.
just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.
“y/n.”
you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.
megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.
“h—hi-”
“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”
your eyebrows furrowed.
“what?”
megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”
he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”
your eyes bulge out of their sockets.
fall?
“you what?—”
“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.
“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”
you fidgeted.
“i— i was doing it for you—”
“why for me? i never said—”
the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.
“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”
“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”
“no but—”
“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”
“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.
“so?”
“and i’m a loser.”
he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.
“no you’re not you big dummy.”
he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.
“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”
he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.
“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”
he nodded, head still hung.
“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”
“way fucking more,” he mumbled.
you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.
you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.
“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.
“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.
“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”
he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”
he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.
“you’re so dense y/n…”
megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”
“the party?” you murmured.
he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”
your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.
since the party?
it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.
you were so fucking stupid.
your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.
“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”
you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.
“don’t be.”
“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”
“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”
you held him tighter.
“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.
“hm?”
“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”
megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.
he gripped you tighter.
“did you?”
you nodded, “mhm.”
megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.
“what else do you like.”
you gripped the fabric of his uniform.
“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”
your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.
“what else.”
“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”
“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.
“more than anything.”
“what else do you like?”
you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”
he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”
you nodded, your heart hammering.
he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.
“you wanna see what else i can do?”
“what— what else?”
megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.
“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”
he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.
“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”
“i don’t fucking care.”
megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.
he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.
you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.
“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”
“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.
“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”
“g—gumi—”
“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.
the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.
“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.
if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?
they’d drop dead.
without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.
megumi was freaky.
your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.
“is— is everybody gone?”
“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.
“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”
he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”
you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.
he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.
“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.
you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”
“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”
“m—maybe in high school?—”
megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.
“thought you liked me.”
“i do!” you sputtered.
“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”
your hole clenched.
“that— that was before you!”
he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.
“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.
“and what about takuma, hm?”
you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”
“mhm. he was all over you.”
you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.
“i—”
“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”
he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.
your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.
“would you?”
“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”
“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”
“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”
“just me?”
megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.
“y—yes!”
he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.
“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”
“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”
he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.
“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”
“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.
you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.
you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.
“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”
your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.
“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”
megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.
you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.
megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.
he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.
“put these on baby,” he murmured.
you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.
“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.
he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.
“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”
“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”
megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.
“and so are you.”
and that you were.
you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.
your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.
“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”
he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.
the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.
without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.
one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.
megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.
but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?
megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.
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meo66 · 1 month
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sorry if i’m being a party pooper but because rabies is apparently the new joke on here ??? please remember that rabies has an almost 100% fatality rate after symptoms develop so if you’re bitten or scratched by an animal that you aren’t 100% sure is vaccinated then GO TO A DOCTOR. it’s not a joke. really. 
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meo66 · 1 month
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sometimes i’m like “what am i so scared of?” and then remember that everything is so scary
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meo66 · 1 month
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elves are portrayed incorrectly in fantasy. if they knew about deforestation they'd straight up jack off to it
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meo66 · 1 month
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your tumblr crush is sending the porn you're reblogging with them in mind to their tumblr crush and saying "us when lol" .. btw
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meo66 · 1 month
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Studying with Choso🌱🫧🌷
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Student!Choso x Reader One-Shot
the deets: Poor Cho - he's been best friends with books and binders for weeks on end with little to no time for his favorite subject; You 🥺. With his finals just around the corner, his cram sessions are in full swing... and affections absent. So, being the angel that you are, you decide to give him a helping hand. w.c: 3.8k tags: fem!reader, fem!top/switch (kinda), teasing, nipple play, breath play, choking, handjob, praise, pet names, Ph.D student Choso|mention of: rough penetration, bruising, throat fucking, 18+ MDNI angel's note: what began as a daydream turned into my 1st (completed) JJK fanfic - go crazy, go stupid|don't talk to me about the latest spoilers ... pls 🥲
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Sigh.
He’s been at it for hours now. 
The clock ticking against the silence in the room made that obnoxiously apparent. 
Hums of Lofi coming from the living room is your only saving grace. The peace and tranquility he needs to concentrate starkly contrasts the infectious heat growing in your lower body. 
Nibbling on your nails proves meek, as your thighs, acting as hand warmers, begin to ache. You couldn’t help but palm your pussy while trying to resist the urge to interrupt Choso’s study session.
Again.
Your cunny kept speaking to you with a raging heartbeat. Begging you to march in there and demand attention as he’d been home for hours with little to no sprinkles of affection. 
You groan, burying your face into your pillow. 
“Baaabe,” you call out, a pout forming on your lips. 
As much as you wanted to quell your growing pains, you knew this was a really important exam for Choso - one of his last hurdles before wrapping up his Ph.D program. Knowing how much it meant to Choso, you feel a twinge of guilt. 
Your little man was on his way to wearing white lab coats and curing diseases, saving lives one cure at a time. A faint smile finds your face thinking about it. You could see him clearly, donning goggles and blue gloves; his signature spiky buns (adding to the charm) are truly adorable. His little face is a picture of concentration, completely absorbed in his work while taking measurements and recording data; you could almost hear the sound of his pen scratching on the notepad. 
The image of him so absorbed in his work is both charming and impressive; it always makes your heart flutter.
You just knew that those bitches he’s going to be working with better watch themselves. 
Choso in that element alone was enough to make you fold; you could only imagine working so closely with him for multiple hours and taking more than your fair share of quick glances—clenching your thighs to steady your desires to have him bend you over the metal table just to feel the coolness against your nipples. 
“I’m sorry, babe,” Choso whines back. It breaks you out of your jealousy-filled fantasy. Yet, you find your fingertips damp from the arousal between your legs. “I just need a bit more time.” You hear the fatigue in his voice. Knowing your love is so tired and hard at work breaks your heart. 
But that’s all he’s been doing as of late, and you felt as if you hadn’t seen each other in ages. Between his hours-long sessions at the lab and catching up on sleep, you barely had time to cuddle at bedtime. You missed his warmth, his strong arms instinctively bringing you closer to him as he slept. The way your bodies formed a perfect C as he kissed into your neck.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder. And you are surely suffering at the moment. 
The multiple attempts to dissuade his attention from his books were fruitless. 
Casual walk-bys in his favorite silky shorts of yours, the ones that hug above your plump undercuff, went unnoticed. You were sure he could feel the wind against his face as you swished by, making sure your cheeks lingered in his air for a second or two. 
He paid it no mind.. 
It wasn't until you stopped dead in front of him that he finally turned his attention to you, pausing to follow his wandering eyes around the wavy rim of your shorts. The design stretched around your plush thighs creating an imprint on your body, marking your velvety skin. Your arms crossed firmly on your chest push your tits into full view; the accompanying pout on your face made his dick jump.
He sighs, trailing his hands up your thighs to the small of your back, and pulls you in between his legs. A deep breath follows as he inhales your rosy scent, savoring the fragrance he wishes he could bottle and horde.
His chin rests on your lower belly as he looks up at you with puppy dog eyes. “An hour. I promise.”
He peers over the rim of his reading glasses, looking on with a furrowed brow and pouty lip, squeezing at your hips.
You couldn’t resist melting when he’s like this.
His eyes beg for patience, but his hands, wavering under the cuffs of your cheeks, say otherwise. A gentle squeeze on your inner thigh confirms it; you bite your lip at his firm grasp, his eyes never leaving yours. 
Fawk me. 
"Hmph.” you lower into his lap, perfectly molding your body against his. Resting your head on his shoulder, your hands find solace at the nape of his neck. He's so warm. His arms find home around your waist, a sensation that always makes you feel so secure, so small. So needy.
You rock into him, the smell of his hair drugging you as you try to be as close as possible, barely able to control the need to dry-hump him for relief. 
Oh, how his heavenly thighs would be a perfect candidate. 
“One hour? You promise, Cho?” your whine, coupled with the dampness of your shorts, incites a bulge between your thighs. The friction of which alone could get you off if you kept up the pace.
This doesn't go unnoticed of course, and it took all of Choso’s restraint to keep him from dragging your hips back and forth himself, letting you use him like a fucktoy against your clit.
Or better yet, take you like this. It would be so easy for him to snake his arms under your legs and prop you up to bounce on his dick. He was sure the chair was sturdy enough to handle him abusing you.
The thought was mind-numbingly irresistible. 
He tugs at his bottom lip, swallowing a moan and holding you a bit tighter.
“I promise.” pressing a kiss on your ear, his fingers float down your spine. You could stay like this for the rest of the night if it were up to you, but you knew his studies were critical. Besides, maybe your patience would come with a reward—a nice fat one. The one sitting neatly in his shorts, threatening to poke out from under you at the present moment. 
But that was almost an hour ago.
The hour he promised he would be done by. 
And lying in bed with your head hanging off of the side, picturing Choso ramming his dick down your throat, certainly wasn’t helping the throbbing in your core. You pull your hand from your shorts, marveling at the webs between your fingers. Frowning immediately after.
Fine. If he wouldn’t come to you…
You huff, sitting up to head to the living room only to be met with Choso’s back turned to you—his head buried in papers and woe. A mischievous grin plays on your face as you tiptoe behind him.
Your arms wrap lovingly around his neck and drift down his chest. He jumps a little, feeling a tug on the bottom of his shirt. Your icy hands slip underneath and palm his chest before he can argue. 
“You keep it so cold in here, Cho,” you nuzzle into his neck, “How am I supposed to stay warm?” 
Your hands snake around his torso until they brush his pink nips. The rhythmic beat of his heart picks up against your fingers. A slight tug elicits a groan from his lips. “Babe,” he winces, “What are you doing?”
You giggle, twirling them between your fingers before pulling out to caress his scalp—a certified soft spot of his and your favorite place to play.
To help him concentrate, of course. 
You tumble through his brunette locks like gentle waves. It’s almost comical how easily his head falls back against your breasts. The sensation mixed with exhaustion turns him into putty in your hands. You gaze lovingly at his bliss-ridden face and softly closed eyes. Slow, shallow breaths escape his rosy lips as if he’s lost in a peaceful dream.
His naturally dark under-eyes show signs of how busy he’s been. anyone else would assume the purple hue came from sleep deprivation (partially true), but you loved how the blush features coveted his face. To you, they only enhance his already striking features, making him all the more breathtakingly beautiful.
Even without an impossible schedule on top of it.
You were enamored with his unwavering commitment to his ambitions, aspirations, and most importantly, you. It was impressive seeing how he seamlessly balanced his pursuit of success and his affection for you, always making time for meaningful moments together. On top of caring for his younger brother Yuji, the cutest little manic dumpling in existence, you couldn’t help but awe at his ability to juggle everything and still find a way to make you feel cherished.
The thought of it all sends butterflies from your tummy to your toes.
His exposed neck begs for attention. You lean, brushing your soft lips against the skin. Careful to ghost over his collarbone, sending trimmers to his ears. The temptation to swipe his earlobe with your tongue flashes through your mind, a feat you know would send his dick through his pants. 
Instead, you slowly wrap your hand around his jaw, pulling his head back further. His eyes lock on your playful smile; his stunned face makes you nuzzle your thighs together. 
“Y/N-” he starts but your lips silence the protest. He melts into your hand feeling your tongue dip into his mouth. His feeble attempt to object fleets like seconds on a clock. 
Mint chocolate fills your mouth tasting the sweet treats he nibbles on to get him through the night. You couldn't stand the taste of chocolate-flavored toothpaste, but you would swallow a barrel full just to sample it from the lips that always took your breath away.
Quelled by your touch, Choso softens in his seat. How could he resist? Your tongue was nectar on any given day, and he was your hummingbird. 
Your hands travel down his chest, lingering on his waist and treasured v-section. Something he worked on sculpting 2 to 3 times a week, though you swore it came naturally. A waist this slutty simply could not be built in a gym. It was your favorite playground on nights when you could not resist the urge to sink your teeth into flesh.
Followed by whines from Choso.
And your knees shaking and shoved against your chest for tempting him.
You pause before his delectable thighs, capturing an involuntary mew when you glide over them. Fuck, he thinks, I’m such a slut—battling between needing to study and needing your touch. 
What began as mischief morphs into something brilliant, feeling your boyfriend writhe in his chair.
Pulling away from his pillowy lips, a smile forms on yours. He looks on, dazed, almost upset that you stole away.
“Cho..,” you breathe, “What is the central dogma of molecular biology?” His eyes pop open. Your fingers on his thigh slow. You hold a lustful stare, watching his mind search for the answers. 
“Um, the flow of genetic information within a biological system?”
You nod happily, resuming your strokes. His lips twitch in response. 
“What isss… the role of CRISPR-Cas9 in genome editing?” You inch closer to his inner thigh. His eyes flash to your hand.
“Aht aht,” tilting his chin, “Look at me when you answer.” Your fingers press deeper into his jaw, the result of which makes his dick strain against his shorts and stretch the fabric. Pulsing thumps vibrate through your other hand when you cup his length to still him. 
Heat finds your face as you palm the growing tent. The boy had been blessed with a toe-curling gift that shot stars into your eyes every time it sank into your core. Your dainty little hands paled in comparison to the massive limb - it was a wonder how he ever managed to fit inside you - let alone between your fingers. 
Yet, you still managed to take him so well, he thought. Stretching around him with ease, bringing curses to his mouth every time he bottomed out. Always so wet and ready for him at the simplest touch. It was more like your pussy always craved the challenge, sucking and swallowing him like a pure essence. 
“Cho.”
The words catch in his throat. “It-it’s a genome editing tool that comes from bacterial immune systems,” he wets his lips, clenching his fingers, “It uses a.. guide RNA to target specific DNA sequences and Cas9 enzyme to introduce precise changes, like a um, gene knockout or uh….insertion, in various organisms.” 
“Good boy,” you coo, pressing a plush kiss onto his lips again. He blushes red at the sound of praise. The words stimulating a part of his brain that makes him docile and dumb.
Raking nails and plump lips battle for his attention. He feels breathless at your touch. You barely had time to kiss each other before starting your mornings. And now, here you were, toying with him like a trinket.
The questions come with ease, a result of genuine curiosity and random peeks over his shoulder during long nights of cramming.
Difficulty increases as you rattle them off. The look of astonishment on Choso’s face says he didn’t know that you had been paying such close attention. You were no stranger to flashcards and practice quizzes yourself, having become accustomed to them during your undergrad studies. And though those four years may have driven you close to insanity, the habits proved permanent. And were being put to good use on your overworked boyfriend.
“Mmmm,” a thumb dances along the rim of his shorts, “What kind of stem cell research uses Patient-derived iPSCs?”
His brows furrow feeling the elastic stretch around his waist, “Umm, regenerative medicine, no, disease modeling and drug discovery.” skimming his hips sets his nerves on fire. A quick pop of the waistband sends him into outer space. The look of defeat is adorable, his glasses fogging a little. 
He was so cute, so easily coaxed into trembles from the slightest touch. 
You chuckle, nodding, “And if they can model human diseases, then?”
Searching for the solution sends him into a panic. His mouth gapes, but your fingers do not waver, pressing between his thighs, patiently awaiting his answer.
You can tell he’s overthinking it, second-guessing even. My poor baby, you think. Your eyes soften watching him. A gentle expression that reminds him why he tries at all.
With a soft tug of your thumb on his bottom lip, the answer is clear. 
 “...They can be used to help researchers save lives”.
The simplest answer is most often the best.
You smile, “Correct.” In one swoop, his shorts fall just enough to allow his dick to spring out. It slaps against his stomach, thumping against the cool air. A slick of arousal glistens from the head down to the shaft. You fixate on the lip-licking sight, hungry for a taste.
Choso’s hazy eyes are a close second; his struggle to keep them open is noticeably appetizing. The devil may be the most beautiful fallen angel, but it’d be a run for his money if Choso had wings.  
Your hands are careful to tease his length, lightly drawing long lines and circles. Pressing your fingertips into him on correct answers, slowing when he hesitates. Pure agony wouldn’t come close to describing the restraint Choso is using to keep himself grounded. 
Oh, how easy it would be for him to take you into his lap and fuck you senseless for being such a tease. To wrap his arms around your waist and bully you down onto his cock until you both gushed and mewed.
Truthfully, he was spurred on by your newfound dominance—each thump of his dick attesting to the ache and self-control he’s sustained over days of rigorous scheduling.
Tension had been building for weeks. Every encounter was filled with stolen glances and lingering touches. Brushing fingertips as you left in the morning. Sleepy hugs, that could’ve lasted longer, at the end of the day. The air was thick with a mix of desire and frustration as repressed affection hung heavy in the space between you. Every moment was a delicate balance of longing and limits.
You never considered taking matters into your own hands, literally. 
Choso was so lost in the sauce that you thought it would be cruel. 
But the way he folded under you like origami awakened something inside of you. Like fire to a flame, this newfound desire to take what you wanted was exhilarating. “Are you still with me, Cho-baby?”. 
Choso has always been known for his exceptional memory. Whether it was recalling a complex molecular chain in the lab or remembering your favorite order at all the eateries in town, he never had any issues with recollection.
But now, he was sure he would forget his own name if you asked him. His short-circuiting brain grew increasingly useless against your skilled hands. “Hmph,” pulling your bottom lip with your teeth, “No?”
Grazing his mushroom tip turns his words to mush. His stringy pre-cum is a delicious lubricant for the circles you draw. "Mmm," you moan, imagining sucking it down your throat.
With a gentle press, it spills over your thumbs, soaking your hand and eliciting another stifled moan from Choso. You grin. It’s music to your ears and hell on your soaked panties, fueling a primal hunger that intensifies with every gasp and tremble. 
Your throbbing cunt is an undeniable testament. Cursed with an insatiable need to be sopping and full.
It’s impossible for Choso not to arch into your hand, betraying his own body for more of your cunning touch—seeking more of the intoxicating pleasure only you can provide. Resisting was foolish—if you were a drug, Choso was an addict.
“Oh?” transfixing on his soft grind, “Does that feel good, Cho?” he blushes beet red, this time looking away, but you’re quick to bring him back, steadying his jaw between your fingers and instructing him not to move.
Fuck. He could cum just from the look on your pretty face towering over him, stern and seductive. “Answer me baby, use your words.”  
His lungs feel cloudy as you wrap your hand around his length, his mouth falling open in tandem as you stroke up and down his length with ease, increasing pressure from the base to the tip as if trying to coax the words out of him. How you wish you could straddle him and do the same with your pussy—use the desk for leverage and ride him into oblivion until you milked him dry.
His breath matches the rhythm of your strokes in a needy way, sending waves of electricity from your chest to your toes. You can't help but press your breasts closer, cradling his head between your pillows like a second home. “Does. This. Feel. Good?”
He swallows, “s-so good… so. fucking. good,” it drags out of him.
It was a sultry vice grip, swallowing him with your stroke, stealing his breath. His last cling to sanity was his grasp on the seat of the chair, almost turning his knuckles pale white.
Despite being the giver and not the receiver, your own arousal equally intensifies with each desperate moan, shudder, and gasp that escapes his lips—the wetness between your thighs becomes almost unbearable. Every sound consumes rational thought, only leaving a craving for more.
Forgetting your impromptu questionnaire, you decide you’d like to see how long he can go like this, having been days since your last quickie in the kitchen, hips roughly pushed into the counter as he fucked into you. The sight of you reaching into the fridge, exposing your pretty panties, brought on the occasion. And suddenly you were very familiar with the cabinets as he spread you open for a taste. You wore the bruises for days like a badge of honor for taking him as long as you did.
But now, as you rolled your thumb over his supple slit, you were sure he could come undone in a matter of seconds.
He groans feeling you suddenly lick and nip at his earlobe, your devilish thoughts from earlier coming true. You kiss heat into him, twisting your hand up and down; he twitches with every pump, ears growing hot. "Aww baby," you purr, listening to the wet sloshes of your hand. 
You bite the inside of your lip feeling your throbbing clit match the raging heartbeat in his dick. You'd slip your fingers into your soppy pussy and curl them until you came if they weren't so occupied with holding Choso's eyes on you. "You've been working so hard," you whine, "Are you gonna cum for me, Cho?" dipping down now and then to caress his balls, the squelching sounds battle for dominance over the serene Lofi beat. His only response being whimpers and a slight head nod lets you know that he’s close.
Your other hand slides down from his jaw to his throat, locking with a light squeeze. “Mmmph,” the restriction drives him closer, beginning to mindlessly pump himself into your hand. You squeeze at the base as if to milk him of all his worries. “I’m gonna…” 
“You’re gonna what?” your pressure increases on his neck, matching the growing knot in his stomach. His face flushes, but you wait for his tell. He fucks into your hand, following a string of silent curses, when you see it, that familiar thigh twitch.
His mouth falls wide open, sucking in air, “F-fuck i-i'm cu-” you shove your tongue down his throat making sure he tastes you completely, stealing the air from his lungs as he cums. His hand entangles in your hair, the orgasm cracking like lightning through him as his seed spills over your fingers, shuddering from his hips down. 
But you don't stop—continuing to pump, making sure to milk out every last drop. His pulsing dick provides a steady stream of hot spurts until his thrusts turn sloppy and his abs begin to ache. Your sloppy kiss silences his guttural moans until his eyes roll into the back of his head.
Finally, you pull away, a string of slick connecting your tongues, letting him breathe. The cool air soothes his heavy pants and heaving chest. You watch his spent face, his eyes following your fingers to your mouth as you lick them clean. The act stimulates his softening dick, adding a final spurt to the mess you’ve created on his lap.
You giggle, removing his glasses and setting them aside to plant a kiss on his forehead and blushing scar. A familiar ring chimes through the air. The sound you had become accustomed to on early mornings that started your day.
Hmm, he really was keeping up with the time, you think. 
You lean down, smiling against his cheek, “Looks like your hour is up, babe.” You rub his surely sore neck and peck it.
His hand, still grasping your hair, catches you before you can pull away. Your eyes widened at the sudden shift. You gasp when he pulls you back, meeting his gaze as his lips curl into a sinful smile—watching his dick slowly thump back to life from the corner of your eye. He leans closer and whispers in your ear, his voice raspy and dry but very, very clear.
“Yours is just starting.”
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art credit: mu_kmijj on twitter
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meo66 · 1 month
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meo66 · 2 months
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i hate olympics cuz i’m the strongest and fastest but i’m too shy to show anybody
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meo66 · 2 months
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meo66 · 2 months
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'is he stupid' is one of the funniest things to add at the end of a sentence it's right up there with 'many such cases' and 'because of woke'
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