#if u don’t laugh ur blocked

[jezebelblues]

When are we getting married (im 23 and a billionaire btw)

u have to propose first u nerd 🙄

[bibleofficial]

went to the beach w kp & 4 other indian friends & 3 of us had NEVER surfed before girl WHEW it’s SO fun literally only 20quid to rent a wetsuit & board & i fucking smashed my toes on the sand so much, but also we 1) got the wrong tickets so we got off 1 stop early 2) went to find a bus & the bus that was supposed to be 15 min turned into an HOUR 3) on our way to find a bus back everyone’s phones are dying or dead bc it took us 3hrs longer to get there, cigarettes are out 4) all of the shops in town are closed & the town seems to have ONLY a tesco extra & 1 off license that sells a PACK FOR 15.65 A PACK WHICH IS FUCKING CRIMINAL ITS CHEAPER TO BUY IT FROM TESCO ARE U INSANE 5) the bus back to the other town kept skipping us bc the bus stop wasn’t the ACTUAL bus stop - i had 1 bowl since literally 11a & we got back at fucking 11p 😭😭😭

[muniimyg]

♡ 01: maybe it's all in my head

series m.list // taglist

note: hihiii ,, this jk has been rotting my mind for a while now ... time to ruin urs !!! enj the tension ,, (i miss being toxic) lmk what u guys think of their dynamic tho <3 excited to share their little story with u ,, mwaaaa

warnings: oc and jk are mean in this fic !!! pls don't comment being whiney abt it :') !!! oc overhears jk fucking someone ,, jealousy ,, banter

//

“oh. it’s you.”

leaning against the doorframe, jungkook looks at you half disgusted and half disappointed. his arms are crossed with one eyebrow lifted. he blocks your entrance.

“now, now,” you reach over and ruffle his hair. he shifts, dodging your touch. “don’t be so excited. i know your boring life just waits for my presence—oh. i get it. were you expecting someone? usually you’re thrilled to see me.”

jungkook’s expression doesn’t shift, though there’s a faint glint in his eyes. 

“thrilled is reaching, don’t you think?”

“is it?”

“yeah.”

you roll your eyes, brushing past him with a teasing smile. 

“right, so… which are you today? mr. save the dolphins or professor chem?”

jungkook scoffs at you.

“at least my marine conservation interest and organic chem major help the world. what’s your major again? yap-conomics or bitch-ology?”

“help the world?” you almost burst into laughter. “god, you are such a nerd.”

“nerd? i don’t know about you, but some of us care about—”

“yeah, yeah,” you wave him off. “are you waiting for a nobel peace prize or something? holy shit, jungkook. learn to relax a little. you’re so serious. it’s cute, really… but only when you aren’t so anal about it.”

cute?

jungkook feels his chest tighten.

before he can make a comeback, taehyung calls you to the living room.

“___? is that you? stop trying to edge jungkook! get in here! i need your data for our paper!” 

you stick your tongue out at jungkook before turning away and rushing to the living room. your lips curl into a smug grin as you saunter off, leaving jungkook muttering something under his breath. you catch him rolling his eyes just before you disappear around the corner, a small flicker of triumph igniting in your chest.

the living room is warm, filled with the faint hum of taehyung’s lo-fi playlist and the smell of old books—his aesthetic, no doubt. taehyung is sprawled on the couch, laptop open, an arm draped lazily over the cushions. his wide grin grows wider when he sees you. 

“i’m here!”

“finally! come on, genius. enlighten me,” he says, patting the seat next to him.

you plop down beside him, legs folded under you, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees. “genius? are you sucking up to me because you didn’t do your part of the project yet?”

“yup,” he says, shrugging, his head tilted lazily to the side. “if you don’t send me that data tonight, though, i might call you something less flattering.”

you laugh, the sound soft and light, and lean into the cushions, already pulling up the necessary files. 

“your boyfriend’s in a mood.”

“he always is when you’re around,” taehyung teases. “he only answered the door cos he thought it was his student. your face must’ve pissed him off.”

chuckling at his response, you ask another question. 

“where are the guys?”

“they’ll be home soon,” taehyung answers. “said they wanna eat out tonight after jungkook’s tutoring session. you coming with?”

“sure,” you agree. 

then, the two of you fall into a comfortable rhythm, bouncing ideas back and forth while taehyung clicks through your notes, occasionally throwing in a sarcastic remark or two that makes you nudge him with your elbow.

a few minutes later, you hear an unfamiliar laugh and footsteps approaching.

jungkook strides in, casual and confident as always, but this time a girl is trailing after him. 

she’s pretty. 

the two exchange a few murmured words before jungkook’s eyes flicker briefly in your direction. he raises a hand in a lazy acknowledgment, the girl following suit, and say hi. taehyung nods at them and then they’re gone—slipping upstairs in the blink of an eye. 

the sound of his bedroom door clicking shut echoes faintly.

and then, it rings in your ear. 

you blink, your fingers frozen mid-typing on the keyboard. something gnaws at your chest, sharp and unfamiliar, leaving a bitter taste at the back of your throat. taehyung, oblivious, scrolls through your notes, muttering about formatting errors.

but you… you’re somewhere else entirely. 

what was that?

no name?

no introduction?

did she think you were taehyung's girlfriend or something? that jungkook was all for her?

oh god.

there's a weird twist in your stomach. it feels like a prickle of irritation spreading across your skin like an itch you can’t scratch… you shake your head, trying to brush it off, but the image of jungkook—smirking as usual, leaning casually against the banister, that girl so effortlessly fitting into the space beside him—lingers, stubborn and unshakable…

what the fuck.

it’s not like you and jungkook are close. 

you’re frenemies, at best. 

unsure of when it started exactly—but it’s been happening long enough for it to be routine and well-known in the friendgroup. you two are the kind of people who throw jabs at each other during game nights and compete to see who can make the snarkiest comment without crossing the line. you’re always caught in this stupid cycle of one-upping each other, all for the entertainment of the group. sometimes, more for yourself. life gets boring pretty quickly, and jungkook is your fastest source of entertainment. 

yet, why does it feel like you’ve just lost some unspoken game?

your chest tightens, and you lower your gaze to your laptop, fingers hovering over the keys. you bite the inside of your cheek, a nervous habit you’ve never been able to kick… this icky feeling begins to take over and your mind races with reasons as to why.

maybe it’s because jungkook’s always been so good at getting under your skin. 

maybe it’s because, for all his teasing and relentless bickering, there’s this… comfort in knowing that he’s always there, right across the table, firing back at you like he knows exactly how to push your buttons.

and maybe that’s the problem.

because now, with someone else upstairs, laughing at something he probably said, you’re starting to realize that you might actually care more than you thought.

maybe you care because you’re not the one in his room he’s trying to make laugh.

after a few hours pass, everyone’s stomach beings to grumble. 

for the past 20 minutes, the guys have been begging you to go up and call jungkook down. he hasn’t been answering their texts and all argue that if they go up and knock; he’ll just ignore them. 

… but if you do it…

he’ll answer.

even if it’s just to insult you. 

you glance up at the clock, already mentally calculating the time. you're not really in the mood for another round of back-and-forth with him, but you know they'll just keep pushing you.

"please, please, please, ___!” taehyung cries, pouting. “i really need pad thai. like… so bad. like, i might die. please go get jungkook.”

you hesitate, your eyes flicking to the stairs. 

jungkook hasn’t come out at all. you don’t want to disturb anything and he’s a total grumpy-head when his study time is disrupted… what more if it’s a tutoring lesson? the last time you went up there, it ended with you calling him a dumbass and him tossing a pillow at you.

“i think you guys can go get him this time," you say, turning your attention back to your phone, pretending to scroll through a message.

"oh come on," jimin presses. "you know, at the end of the day… he only really listens to you." his voice drips with exaggeration, but it only makes you roll your eyes.

"yeah, that’s true…" hobi adds with a playful smirk, leaning back into the couch. "you’re like his… little bitch or something."

you shoot them both a look. “you think i’m his bitch?"

“either that or he’s your little bitch.”

you scoff at him. “please do not disgrace bitches by associating them with him.”

“fine, fine,” jin says with a dramatic sigh, raising his hands in mock surrender. “we won’t force you to go up… we’ll bribe you!”

your interest piques as you glance up at him, eyebrow raised. 

“bribe me? how much cash do you have today?”

yoongi and nam joon share a look. then, nam joon leans forward, his eyes twinkling mischievously. 

“milk tea," he offers, his voice low and enticing, like he knows exactly what will catch your attention. "… any boba store you want. any time… for a week, ___.”

you try to fight the grin that starts tugging at your lips. 

fuck it. 

you nod begrudgingly, slipping your phone into your pocket. 

“deal.”

taehyung bursts out laughing. “deal."

with a resigned sigh, you head for the stairs. 

as you climb up, you prepare yourself. 

you prepare yourself for his death glare and the innocent girl in the background. you prepare yourself for his snarky comments and his sweet tone of voice the minute he turns around to talk to her. you prepare yourself to feel sick to your stomach again. 

as you stand in front of his bedroom door and raise your fist to knock—you hear it. 

rather, you hear them. 

the unmistakable sound of his voice, muffled but clear enough that you can make out the low hum of his tone, followed by a girl’s laugh—a breathy, high-pitched laugh that makes your stomach twist.

you freeze, standing in the doorway, caught between disbelief and something you can’t quite name. your heartbeat picks up in your chest, your body tensing as the reality of the situation settles over you.

you’re not sure what exactly it is—maybe it’s the fact that it’s so casual, or maybe it’s the way the sound of it makes you feel like you’re intruding—but you feel a sudden flush creep up your neck and cheeks.

“oh my god, o-oh my g-god! t-that’s it, jungkook! oh god, baby… f-fuck!”

“fuck—you close, baby?”

“so close, baby. so fucking close. g-god, yes, yes, yes! nghh—fuck! so big, jungkook. oh my god, oh my god! fuck me, fuck me… j-just like that, baby. yes, y-yes–o-oh! mhmmmphhh—”

"shit, shit, shit..."

"fuck me harder, jungkook. please! o-oh? oh! oh my god! yes... yes! thank you, baby. thank you, thank you! ahhh... oh my god..."

you swallow, stepping back, retreating to the stairs. 

the guilt of overhearing makes your pulse race in an odd way, like you’ve been caught in something you weren’t supposed to see.

at the bottom of the stairs, you pause, your hand on the banister, unsure whether you should stay or go. 

you quickly decide. 

you’re already feeling the sting of something sharp and unfamiliar in your chest.

“guys,” you say quickly, trying to keep your tone light, but there’s an edge to it you can’t mask. "y-you know what? i think i’ll just head home. i’ve got a ton of work to do.”

they look at you, confused. taehyung blinks a couple of times, jimin frowning. 

“but we—"

"y-yeah,” you breathe. “i… i know. i just… it’s all good. you guys can go ahead without me,” you add, forcing a smile.

“slow down, ___. what—”

“i feel sick,” you confess. “okay? i feel sick.”

“okay… can one of us drive you home or something—”

“no. i’m good. thank you, though… i.. i gotta go.”

they all frown, their confusion morphing into concern, but you’ve already grabbed your things and hurried out the door before they can protest.

the cold night air feels like a slap to your face as you walk away, but it doesn’t quite shake the unsettled feeling in your stomach. 

you can’t stop thinking about it. 

about how you feel.

about what you heard.

about how much you fucking hate jeon jungkook.

it’s almost 10PM by the time you finish showering. your hair is still damp, hanging loosely around your shoulders as you brush it out in front of the mirror. the soft swish of the brush is the only sound in the room, your thoughts still lingering on what happened earlier. the image of Jungkook with that girl, the sound of their voices together, keeps replaying in your mind, and it won’t leave.

you shut your eyes and try to forget. 

taking a breath in—your moment is interrupted by a knock on your door. 

you frown, glancing at the clock before moving to the door, towel still hanging from your shoulders. it’s late, and you weren’t expecting anyone. 

heading towards the door, you wonder who it is.

then, when you open the door, you freeze.

there, standing in the hallway with a takeout bag in hand, is jungkook. his face is unreadable, but his eyes—those eyes—seem to be searching yours for something. you can’t quite figure out what.

you blink, caught off guard by the unexpected visit, and for a moment, neither of you says anything.

“uh…” jungkook clears his throat, breaking the silence, his voice lower than usual. “the guys think i did something to piss you off… so i’m supposed to say sorry for… whatever i did.”

“you didn’t do anything,” you lie. “goodnight.”

just as you’re about to shut the door, he takes a step forward. 

“___,” he says, tone flat and annoyed. “don’t be a bitch. just tell me what i did so i can apologize, go home and tell them what i did wrong, and we can act like nothing happened—”

“okay,” you shrug. “you wore an ugly shirt today. there. say sorry.”

jungkook winces at you. 

“seriously?”

you shrug again. 

“what do you want, jungkook? i have nothing to say to you—”

“i don’t fucking understand where all this attitude is coming from. i didn’t do shit to you today. you know i didn’t… so, can you please use your tiny brain to make something up? something more convincing than hating my fucking shirt.” 

you nod, pretending to care. then, just as you reach for the door to shut it again; jungkook swiftly moves past you. he lets himself in. 

“they’re worried you didn’t eat,” he states. “did you eat?”

you groan at him. “why the fuck do you care?”

“i don’t.”

but his actions say otherwise. 

jungkook then takes off his shoes and heads to your coffee table. he sits himself on the floor and begins to unpack the food. silently, you watch as he does so and can’t help but feel like throwing up. 

“eat,” he commands. 

you glare at him. 

“get out.”

jungkook leans back against your couch. “eat, tell me what i did wrong, then i’ll leave.”

“leave first.”

“eat first.”

“get out.”

“holy shit,” jungkook scoffs. “are you even capable of forming a complex sentence, or is that too much for you? ___, this is called a conversation. you’re supposed to—"

“get out.”

jungkook sighs heavily. 

a silence falls upon you two. 

jungkook has had difficult days with you before.

this is nothing new… but for some reason, right now feels harder than the other days. partly because most days he knows when he’s being an asshole—but today? he has no clue. 

he’s in the dark. 

jungkook clears his throat. 

“i didn’t yell at you today,” he starts. “i didn’t call you names. you called me a nerd but that was it… your face ruined my day but i guess it made the others pretty happy since they were so pissed at me for being the reason why you left… so, hey… how about this? you tell me what i did wrong for the guys. not for me.”

you raise an eyebrow at him. 

his eyes plead. 

then, a moment passes. 

instead of answering him, you pick up your feet and sit on the floor beside him. you look at the door and take the utensils from the bag. poking at the food, you contemplate on telling him what’s going on in your head. 

just as you’re about to eat a spoonful of the food, you suddeny feel jungkook close to you. without saying a word, his fingers brush lightly against your cheek, making you hold your breath. his hand moves to tuck a damp strand of hair behind your ear, carefully pushing it out of the way so it doesn’t fall into your food. 

the gesture is so unexpectedly gentle that it catches you off guard, and for a second, you’re just left there, staring at him.

he looks at you sincerely. in his eyes, you can see his defeat. 

you don’t know if it was the gesture or the look in his eyes—but your words slip out of your mouth faster than you can think to stop it. 

“she was too loud.”

he tilts his head at you. 

“oh,” jungkook connects. his expression stiffens for a split second, then he schools it back into calm. “overheard, did you?” he asks, leaning in slightly, voice a low murmur. 

“oh, i definitely heard,” you reply, folding her arms, feigning thoughtfulness. “don’t act so cocky… she sounded like she was faking it.”

he stares, jaw flexing, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something challenging in his eyes. 

“that’s cute coming from someone who couldn’t even stay for dinner.”

suddenly that pang of jealousy again hits again. 

you know you should just brush it off… keep your cool and act nonchalant about it—but something about jungkook just makes you feel so off balance. 

“maybe i had better things to do,” you retort. 

“like what?” 

you shrug. 

“like leave.”

“you should’ve knocked,” jungkook smirks. “i would’ve opened the door. we don’t mind an audience usually.” 

there it is again. 

the sick, sinking, icky feeling. 

“you two fuck often?”

jungkook looks away, taking a moment to think. 

“yeah,” he admits. “what? surprised nerds get laid?”

you stay quiet. 

“i mean.. it’s not really any of your business…" he mutters, though there’s a tension in his voice that doesn’t match his casual shrug. you can tell he's trying to brush it off, but the way his jaw tightens betrays him.

you feel your stomach tighten, the words you threw out lingering in the air between you, each one heavier than the last. you weren’t expecting him to react like this—maybe a joke or a deflecting comment—but not this… 

tension.

"right," you reply, your tone softer than you intended. you glance down at your food, suddenly losing your appetite. the casual air you were hoping for is long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that neither of you seems willing to break.

jungkook shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck before clearing his throat. 

"look, it’s not like that," he adds quickly, but the words sound almost too defensive. "she’s just... i don’t know. it’s nothing serious."

you don’t respond immediately, still caught up in the strange mix of feelings his words stir in you. the way he said it—like it was nothing serious—feels too much like an attempt to distance himself from whatever was going on.

you’re not sure what you wanted from this conversation, but now all you feel is a growing knot in your chest.

"yeah," you mutter, trying to sound indifferent, but the weight of his words hangs in the air, making your throat feel tight. "whatever you say—”

“why do you care anyway?” jungkook’s voice is sharp now, a slight edge creeping into his tone as he looks at you, his expression shifting from defensive to something you can’t quite place.

you’re caught off guard by the question. 

you weren’t prepared for that, weren’t prepared for the way it makes your chest tighten. why do you care? it’s not like you have any right to, right?

you open your mouth, but the words don’t come out. Instead, you just shrug, trying to play it cool, but you can feel your pulse quicken. 

"i don’t. i just—"

"you just what?" he interrupts, his brow furrowing, as though he’s not buying the act. "you’ve never cared before. why start now?"

you clench your fists at your sides, feeling the sting of his words more than you want to admit. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him—tell him how seeing him with her, hearing them laugh together, makes something ugly twist in your stomach. 

but you can’t.

"i don’t know," you finally mutter, your voice quieter than before. “it's weird. like, of course i knew you weren't a virgin but... are you actually that good? then again… doesn’t take much to fake sounds like her.”

jungkook’s eyes flicker to yours, something unreadable passing through them before he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. then, he smirks. 

it’s more calculated, though… like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

"curious?"

"disgusted, actually."

a beat.

"what, you wanted it to be you?" he asks, his voice smooth, a challenge in his tone.

you almost choke on your breath, but you recover quickly. "me? sleeping with you? please."

he lets out a low laugh, but it’s not playful this time. 

it’s more mocking. 

“yeah, i mean, i don’t even want you that bad…" he takes a slow look at you, like he's mentally assessing you, deciding if you’re worth his time. "not even close."

the words sting more than they should, but you keep your composure. 

you try to look unbothered, but his next words twist the knife a little deeper.

“fuck you.”

"you wish i’d fuck you," he remarks, almost casually, like it's no big deal. "would make things easier, huh?"

your chest tightens, and something about the way he says it makes your blood run cold. It’s not just teasing anymore—it’s a jab.

but you refuse to let him see how much it affects you.

"i’m not interested in you," you shoot back, your voice betraying none of the discomfort you’re feeling. 

he leans in a little, eyes never leaving yours. 

"really?" 

“really.”

his smirk widens, and you can feel the tension crackling in the air. 

“guess what? i think you care more than you're letting on. you act like you don’t give a shit, but it’s so obvious you’re just pissed it’s not you in my bed."

you bite your lip, trying to keep your voice steady, but something betrays you in the way your heart races. 

"i’m not pissed," you mutter, the words coming out too quickly, like you’re trying to convince yourself as much as him. "why would i be?"

jungkook watches you for a moment, taking in every little reaction. 

"i don’t know, ___," he says, his tone low and teasing, like he’s enjoying every second of this. "but it’s cute. you’re all flushed, trying to act like you don’t care, but i can see right through you."

you grit your teeth, wanting to snap back, but instead, you just look away. 

"shut up," you mutter, frustrated with yourself more than anything. "you’re such an asshole sometimes, you know?"

he laughs again, but this time there’s something darker in it, almost like he's reveling in your frustration. 

“i don’t think you’re as immune to me as you pretend to be," he says. "but hey, don’t stress about it, baby. i’m not that interested either. i mean, what’s the fun in fucking you? it’d be harder getting rid of you than getting in your pants.”

you feel the sting of his words hit harder than they should.

“are you done?” you mutter, forcing a nonchalant tone. "and don't call me baby. you called her baby. i don't want to be associated—"

"you think you'd fold as fast as she did?"

jungkook’s eyes flicker with something that could almost be amusement—or maybe something else. he clears his throat.

“shit, ___. i’m sorry—”

“yeah?” 

you don't know why, but something inside you snaps. 

you shift your body close to him. so close that you glance at his lips, then back up to his eyes, as if you’re weighing something—daring him to make a move.

jungkook’s body tenses, his breath shallow, like he's ready to close the distance… to make some sort of move. his lips part slightly as if he's about to speak, but before he can, you push him away. 

now, he’s tongue tied.

“shit, jungkook... i'm sorry," you mock him. "but you're wrong... this is fun."

[petrichorium]

I’m sure Ralph volunteers to help you destress 🤣

It’s too fucking late for me to deal with this good night

[miguelhugger2099]

Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits.  “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

hiii i love ur fics idk if ur requests are on rn but can u do a short drabble of the tiktok trend where the guy hasn't ask his gf to be his valentines day so she "put him on sale" as a joke ofc but she's like

BF FOR SALE ($3.50)

- amazing cook

-crusty feet

- will buy anything u want

any character is fine but i would love katsuki or shoto!!

LMFAOOOO this is for sure the funniest ask ive gotten yet😭😭😭 this is so cute !! and very long overdue I apologize writer block devil was rlly kickin my ass😞 valentines been over but yk i had to write this ! i was rlly hesitating between writing for shoto or katsuki and then i realized i could write for BOTH OF THEM!! and so i did ! i tried honoring your request as best i could, hope you like it <3 !

no pronouns mentioned, pure tooth rotting nasty fluff, use of petnames (my love for shoto and sweets, babe and idiot (lol) for katsuki), katsuki is an asshat but when isn’t he, shy katsuki, shoto is a bit of an airhead, kissing, biting, reader is petty asl lol, lemme know if i missed something else !

todoroki shoto ♥︎

“yn, my love.”

“yes, shoto ?”

the corners of shoto’s mouth pull into a tiny frown at the usage of his first name. no baby, no hun, not even sho. just shoto.

“did i do something to upset you ?” he asks carefully from his spot at the foot of your dorm bed he seems to be stuck at, he can’t bring himself to move until he knows if you’re actually mad at him, and he has an inkling you are.

you look up at him for no longer than a second then look back down at your phone screen “what makes you think that ?” you question back nonchalantly.

“you posted something on your tiktok account..” shoto doesn’t have a clue how to have this conversation with you and it makes him a little nervous, he regrets not going to izuku for advice after all.

“mhmmmm~” you hum, urging him to continue knowing damn well you know what he’s going to say. you wanted to hear him say it himself.

you know shoto’s had no previous relationships before you so these type of things probably don’t mean as much to him as they do to you, but doesn’t everyone want their boyfriends to ask them to be their valentine ? you sure do, and your boyfriend hadn’t asked you to be his yet, so as petty as you know you were being at the time you posted the tiktok he’s no doubt here for right now.

shoto feels like a criminal on trial desperately trying to plead his case with you being the judge. tentatively, he asks “ you said you were..putting me up for sale ?”

immediately it’s like a switch had been flipped. you place your phone down onto your bed next to you, shoto wishes he could take your phone’s place. you cross your leg over the other and bring your hands together like a super villain revealing their master plan “yes. yes i did.”

“oh.”

silence. nothing.

shoto tried—he’s trying. he’s trying so insanely hard to make sense of everything that is you but he simply can’t. he breaks eye contact to think of more to ask but his attention is quickly pulled back to you when he hears you whine.

“uuuuughhh shotoooo~” you moan, throwing your head back against the headboard. “you’re not supposed to say ‘oh’ !” you’re face changes from grumpy to deadpan as you lower your voice slightly to try and mimic him. on any other day this would’ve made him laugh but he’s beyond lost at this point. he clears his throat before speaking again.

“ i don’t know what i’m supposed to say—or what i did for you to want to sell me.” he thinks “and for 3 dollars at that.”

you let out a laugh when you process his words and shoto’s shoulders magically feel lighter at the sound. carefully, he slides a little closer to the side of your bed so he can stand at your bedside. little by little. you pretend you don't notice.

"it's what you deserve for not askin' me to be your valentine."

the secret’s finally out and you get to see how the cog wheels in his head are starting to turn in real time, it has you holding back a giggle when he looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“is that..why you were mad ?” you nod, humming out a playful mhmm

“ya really hurt my feelings you know ? to think my own boyfriend wouldn’t ask me” you clench your fist over your heart and fake sob dramatically.

shoto huffs out a laugh, relieved to see you’re not actually mad, and goes to sit down on your bed. he tentatively reaches for your hand and squeezes it twice when you let him hold it. before bringing it up to his lips and placing a sweet little kiss to it. it feels as if pop rocks are going off inside of you.

“ i’m sorry for not asking you to be my valentine.” he apologizes, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing your hand “ i was thinking i should’ve, but i didn’t want you to think it was weird since we’re already dating.” his thumb goes to run over your fingers “ i was worried me being too intense would scare you off.” he mumbles.

your eyebrows furrow, you lean towards him to make him look at you “ you wouldn’t scare me off, who told you that ?”

“kaminari. he said ‘coming on too strong scares away the babes.’ ” shoto quotes

you sigh. of course it was that bigmouth portable charger filling his head with this stuff.

you pull your hand out of his grasp and he looks up to protest but you grab his face in your hands before he can say anything, you can practically see him start melting at the contact as he blinks at you slowly, he reminds you of a cat.

“sho” you purr, rubbing his cheeks “ rule number one is never ever listening to kaminari’s dating advice. most of the time it is very wrong.” you explain.

shoto presses his mouth to the palm of your hand “yeah, i’m starting to regret that now.” he speaks into it, you snort. he leans in closer to press a sweet kiss to your lips and you reciprocate, pressing a few more kisses on his lips for good measure “ i’m really sorry for not asking you.” he says in between pecks. you hum in response to him placing even more kisses all around your face. “s’okay. i’m also kinda sorry for putting you up for sale.” you say, running your fingers through his hair while he places kisses on your shoulder.

he lifts his head up to look at you then, an eyebrow raised with an amused expression on his face “kinda sorry ?” he asks.

you nod “mhm. kinda sorry.”

he chuckles to himself, then gets up so he can climb into bed next to you. when he’s positioned how he likes it, with his head in your lap while you comb through his hair with your fingers, he sighs peacefully “well, it wasn’t all bad. i’m glad you think i’m a good cook.”

“what about the crusty feet ?”

“i’m choosing to ignore that part.” shoto smirks lightly to himself when he hears you laugh at his joke, clearly proud of himself for it. “and i will buy you anything you want, to make it up to you.”

“i don’t need you to buy me anything, sho” you roll your eyes with a lovesick smile “ all you gotta do is ask.”

he blinks up at you, looks off the the side as if he’s deep in thought, and suddenly gets off your lap to sit right in front of you. you never think you’ll get over how pretty your boyfriend is and being reminded of it with how close he is to you makes you flustered. he leans in to kiss you passionately and you don’t know if it’s the love he pours into it or the lack of air that has you so dizzy, you don’t dwell on it.

when he pulls away he’s looking at you like you hung up the stars in the sky and he simply, almost shyly smiles at you and asks.

“ will you be my valentine ?”

bakugou katsuki ♥︎

you did not expect katsuki to come barging into your dorm room five minutes after you’d posted your tiktok. the loud sound of someone banging on your door and proceeding to let themselves in seconds later causes you to let out a squeak.

in comes katsuki, phone tightly clutched in his hand and the moment his eyes zeroed on you he’s like a bull charging at a red flag. he stands right in front of you, angry frown on display before he shoves his phone in your face.

“explain this. now.” he growls, you have to hold back a laugh, keeping your face as calm as possible you look between him, his screen then back at your phone.

“what’s confusing about it ? i thought i was being pretty straight forward.”

his eye twitches. “why the hell did you put me up for sale ?! and for three dollars and fifty fuckin’ cents ?!” he exclaims, you can’t help the snort that bursts out of you, though katsuki doesn’t look as amused as you are.

“explain.” he deadpans.

“i think you can figure it out.” you shrug back.

he mutters insults to himself that you can’t catch “well obviously fuckin’ not, cus I wouldn’t be askin’ you if i did.” you simply shrug and look back at your phone. “i wrote it in the caption.”

it takes him a second to process then he’s tapping his password and opening the clock app at super sonic speed. his eyebrows furrow and you see him tapping away at his phone. his eyes widen when he reads your caption and he looks down at you with a mix of desperation and disbelief.

“you’re mad cus I didn’t ask you to be my valentine ?” your bratty huff and turn to the side as you shrug again is all the answer he needs. he looks at you for about 5 seconds longer then sighs.

he sits down on your bed and keeps staring. katsuki bakugou hates a lot of things and one of those things is you ignoring him. a warm hand on your ankle startles you and you can’t even ask him what he’s doing before your being yanked towards him. you squeal, almost missing the smirk on his face or the huff of laughter at your reaction. almost though, so you glare at him. katsuki looms over you until your noses almost touch, then you turn away with a huff. he chuckles, pressing his lips to your neck.

“ yer such a baby, y’know that ?” he mumbles, smirking against you neck. you huff but make no effort to shrug him off “ no i’m not, jerk. is it so wrong for me to want my boyfriend to ask me to be his valentine’s ?” you grumble, trying to ignore the feel of his warm lips against your skin, it’s not working so well for you.

“s’not what i’m sayin, sweets” he nips at your earlobe “‘m sayin’ ya coulda just told me ‘stead of bein’ a baby about it.” you can’t tell if this is his way of trying to apologize. either way, you don’t want to give in just yet.

“i’m not supposed to tell you to ask me to be your valentine’s katsuki, that’s not the point~ !” you huff petulantly. you feel a but childish but, c’mon ! it’s a given to have your boyfriend as your valentine and it wouldn’t hurt your demon spawn of a boyfriend to be a little but romantic once in a while.

he playfully rolls his eyes at you “see, what’d i tell you? big baby.” leaning forward he nips at your nose making you groan and trying to push him away with your palm. katsuki being the powerhouse that he is, doesn’t budge. “ i didn’t think to ask ya cus you’re already mine. so why should i need to ask something that’s a given ?”

your heart beats faster at his words and katsuki takes his chance when he feels you loosing up more and more. suddenly he’s got your wrists in his grip, holding them above you and looking down at you with that sickeningly handsome smirk. you’re almost there, he can practically feel it.

“i—i’m..still mad at you” you stutter out weakly, your defenses are down.

“yeah ?” he taunts.

“yeah. apologize.”

he scoffs, rolling his eyes lightheartedly “why should i apologize ? you said my fuckin’ feet stink.”

“ ah, ah, ah.” you tut “don’t put words in my mouth, i said your feet were crusty.”

“yeah, thanks babe. that makes it so much better.” he sasses, you laugh “and i complimented you ! i said you were an amazing cook !”

“yeah but that ain’t a compliment, ‘ts a fact.” he says matter of factly, you’re eyes threaten to get stuck at the back of your skull with how hard you roll them and he snickers.

he dives in and steals a kiss, and then another one when you don’t stop him. when he pulls away to catch his breath, ready to steal another kiss you stop him by placing your hand on his chest. he looks down at you questioningly and you give him a raised brow in response. he groans.

“fine. m’sorry” he concedes quietly

“foooorrr ?” you urge.

he narrows his eyes at you as if saying “don’t push it” but swallows his words down “ for not askin’ you to be my valentine’s or whatever the fuck” he shoves his now hot face into your neck and mumbles “now quit bein’ all pissed at me.”

you’re happy enough with that, so you wrap your arms around his neck, one of your hands creeping up his nape and into his hair. he sighs contentedly, clearly enjoying the attention you’re giving him.

“thank you. i’m also sorry for saying you have crusty feet.” hearing him scoff at the accusation makes you giggle “and for putting you up for sale.” he hums, happy with your apology.

“..kinda.”

“oi.” he warns. you giggle in response continuing your ministrations in his hair.

“you still haven’t asked me so..” you trail off. he lifts his head up to look at you with a blond eyebrow raised.

“ does this valentine shit really matter that much to you ?” he asks.

you respond immediately “yes.” nodding aggressively to make your point.

he sighs, shaking his head. he looks at you, then looks off to the side in embarrassment, he can be so cute when he wants to be. steeling his nerves he looks you straight in the eyes. fearless with fierce red cheeks and all.

“b-be my valentine, idiot..”

[mygnolia]

sunghoon when you’re sick

pairing: sunghoon x gn!reader headcannons!

cw: cursing, mentions of chicken noodle soup (the food not the song), married life, getting sick/colds, hoonie my bae

wc: 1k

- okay so i feel like because he’s on the ice a lot

- he’s cold

- like in en-o-clock ep 20 behind he said it had been a while since he was on the ice so he was cold but that just means whenever he’s performing he’s not cold or not that cold at least

- and he’s acclimated to ice rink temperatures right?

- (and self projecting here but i myself am very cold all the time and it takes me a long time to get warm but i never get hot-?)

- so i feel like maybe one day its raining

- or the heater is broken and you have to suffer

- and you’re both on the bed, scrolling through your phones, but you’re shivering

- but sunghoon’s used to it

- only issue? he is not a raging furnace

- he’s a block of ice

- “sunghoon i’m cold.”

- “y/n, i can’t help you.” he’s just honest w/ everything atp

- “yes you can! cuddle me.” and you’d forcibly grab his arm and tangle urself with him

- you come to the very shocking realization that sunghoon is literally colder than the temperature outside.

- you pull away IMMEDIATELY and scowl at him

- he shrugs as if to tell you “i told you so.”

- he’s not offended he just accepted that he will never be warm

- man knows you’re just trying not to become the ice cube that he is

- omg sunghoon emotional brick and ice cube look at my…shape skills go

- so you’d go back to becoming one with the blankets but it doesn’t work and you’re like “hoonie :((“

- “yes dear.” sunghoon rolls his eyes, looking over at your covered figure nonetheless abd adjusts your blankets for you

- “can we cuddle, the blankets aren’t working :((“

- sunghoon probably gets an eye workout with how many times he rolls his eyes

- but he… L words u…so “okay. come here.” and he puts his phone down on the nightstand and gives you a hug

- internally he would laugh at your antics but he knows you’re just cold and he obviously wants to help but

- mans literally -2 degrees in body heat idk what to tell u

- but after a while you warm up the blankets EVENTUALLY get hotter

- u probs fell asleep and your body heat increased so you’re warm now

- he falls asleep too

- u end up with a COLD and he’s fine btw

- through the coughs and sniffles you blame him for not being your personal fireplace

- he goes “we slept together???? and you cuddled me??? for three hours??? fyi you could have gotten more blankets”

- ‘why can’t this man just spoonfeed u chicken noodle soup like a good bf’

- “can i at least have a kiss?” you pout at him underneath your blankets, even though the heater is in perfect working condition, and sunghoon feels himself falling harder for you everyday

- you are just so DAMN!!! CUTE!!! he can only handle so much until he says fuck it and puts a ring on ur finger

- omg married life with sunghoon or wtv…. NOT blushing

- “no. i’m going to get sick if I kiss you too.”

- “I AM SO SICK OF U!” /j

- ur stupid play on words makes him laugh and he gives in w/ a small peck :>

- even though ur hating him for not being cute and cuddly he just can’t get sick

- he has a competition coming up! sunghoon can’t be under the weather when he’s already under ur spell >:

- “take your medicine goddamnit” but it’s lovingly scolding you as he pushes the weirdly cherry flavored liquid down and follows up with a cup of warm water

- always has tissues on hand

- you’re in the car? tissues. you’re in the kitchen? no babe don’t use the paper towels to blow your nose it’s too rough on your skin

- if you want to cuddle he will say no

- I MEAN EVERY OTHER TIME HE JUST SITS THERE AND LETS U DO WHATEVER U WANT

- “guess this is my life now”

- “i can’t believe you won’t cuddle with me :(“

- “i cant believe you got sick despite hugging me and still having three blankets.” NO CHILL

- sunghoon simultaneously makes fun of you but will take care of you

- if he’s not home expect a sticky note or a voicemail

- “ahh, sorry for ringing your phone so early, i hope you’re getting your sleep <33 just wanted to call and make sure you drink the water in the bottle next to you, i warmed it this morning before i left for practice, and there’s some food in the fridge that jay brought over yesterday. hope you feel better soon i love you”

- alexa play fighting bleeding losing…no matter what i do by txt

- yeah he’s so sweet he’d stop the teasing bc he knows you hate being sick and doesn’t want to make it worse for you

- sometimes you wake up and you literally can’t breathe??

- breathing through nose era when!! /j

- you’d try to get your work done, hoon alr called sick days off for u but you have nothing to do at home so you get your laptop

- “Hi honey,” Sunghoon greets from the doorway, quickly kicking off his shoes and entering your bedroom. “I brought you some tea, Heeseung said it would help you since his mom gave it to him. Do you want some right now?” You nod, coughing with the quick and unexpected movement of your head.

- Sunghoon comes back with a steaming cup of warm golden tea, and blows on the top before letting you take a sip. “Be careful, it’s hot.” And you dismiss his words before you’re hissing at your burned tongue.

- u don’t catch a break huh

- you finish the cup of tea by the end of the night and sunghoon comes to give u a little forehead kith before telling you to sleep

- tmr u wake up and you can BREATHE again

- which gods did this why do you finally feel like a functioning human being

- ANYWAYS THOUGH!! Sunghoon’s competition is in two hours you don’t have time to waste hello?

- Outfit with hoodie, giant puffer jacket, and a turtleneck, and the thickest pants known to mankind

- driving to the rink where he’s competing and watching him with a giant lovesick grin without him knowing you’re there

- you give him a hug when he’s done

- happy at first and loves to see you, but wants to make sure you’re okay

- You both go home and he’s like “half of that outfit is mine.”

- yeah. he’s not wrong. anyways.

- celebratory dinner! he kisses you many many times thanking you for coming out to see him

- happy to finally cuddle again, holding you close now they you’ve recovered

- he got sick the next day.

—

f for sunghoon. thank you.

[rubywithecat]

JjK men when you are too innocent for them(fem. reader)

—

Here’s little update! Sorry for taking long to upload this, I have a lot of drafts but haven’t made them into posting cuz I’m again busy for school application and preparing for my April intake at language school in Osaka. Hope you enjoy this, luvs!

—

Satoru Gojo

-He likes the way you look at him with inspiring wide eyes when he told you smth you don’t know. It’s his weakness and he thinks it’s so cute and u can make him die for u with that look. But not when you told him a guy told you that he want to do doggy with u that u didn’t know what that mean so u asked if he knows. He suddenly silent and then, “Who is that guy?” He asked with a frown. “Why? Is that a bad joke or smth?” U asked him, worried. He looked down at you, starring at your innocent eyes and oh fckkk his thoughts filled with lust over your innocence, he grinned “Do u want me to show you?” then pushed you to lie down on couch and licked his lips. “I will fcking murder that pervert later but for now, let me take care of you first” said he.

Toji Fushiguro

-You just started working at a bar and Toji and his friends are regulars there. “Hey new girl, don’t you know how to serve us, pretty?” A man from their group yelled, looking at you like a dish. U didn’t like that but you don’t know what he mean either. “Umm… do u want me to take another order, sir…?” U asked, nervously. The men laughed but stopped by Toji. “Dudes, don’t scare out of this innocent kid” he looked you up and down. U were scared and stepped back a little. He chuckled then, stood up and stepped closer and closer to you. He touched your face and lifted it to look at him. How cute ur resisting his strength he thought. “U don’t need to serve those bastards. U only have to serve me” he grabbed your waist. “Give me your number” he whispered. “I’m not interested in you” you pushed him but it didn’t work. He smiled. “Don’t worry, I will find it out later”

Kento Nanami

-You’re an intern and being hit on by a lot of guys at workplace cuz of your beauty. They took advantage of your friendliness and innocence that see good in everyone. One day, you were printing something and suddenly, your colleague shamelessly flirt with you which makes you so uncomfortable. “Do you wanna come drink with me tonight? We can go love place later” he asked. “What is the love place?” you asked. “Oh well, it just a place where you can watch movie and chill” he lied. “So r u up to it?” he asked but interrupted by Nanami. “I thought flirting at workplace is forbidden” he reminded the guy. “If u don’t wanna lose your job, step out”. The guy looked scared, “Yes, sir…I’m so sorry” he said and left. Nanami turned back to you which you were just starring. “How on earth you don’t know what is love place is?” He sighed. “You look like you are easy to deceive” he said. “I’m sorry… thanks a lot anyway” u said before you left and he was surprised it made his heart beat so fast.

Megumi Fushiguro

-He was busy but when you phoned him, he pick up. “Megumi!” U said. “Yeah what’s up again” he said. “A guy in my class dm me like how about we sexting… like what does that mean? Did he spelled that wrong or smth?” You asked. Megumi was stunned. “How do you not know about it” he sighed. “Just block the guy”. “I can’t! He’s our project leader” you said. “Give me his number I will ask him what does that mean for you, ok?” He asked, so you did. Later that day, when that guy see you at school, he looked so frightened and randomly apologizing to you and begging for forgiveness, which made u so confused.

Suguru Geto

-You started dating him a few months ago and he’s comfortable enough to ask you this. “So, what’s your body count?” He asked as he watched at you eating a cake. “Huh?” You asked, confused. “Body count?”. He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? It’s ok if you’re uncomfortable talking about it” he said. “No like I don’t know what you mean… is it like in a game?” You asked which made him laughed so hard. “Guess it’s zero then” he smirked. “Seriously what’s that?” U asked again. “Never mind you will see what it mean later” he said as he wiped the cream on your lips with tissue.

—

-I hope u guys love this! Like and share would be so much appreciated! Thanks<33

—

[jezebelblues]

so not cool | h.s

summary: in which spiderman is obviously much cooler than dad

cw: dadrry. overuse of the word spider-man. u could play a drinking game by how much its mentioned prolly

word count: approx 1.7k

| the result of being up for 20h, writers block n being bored out of my mind !! idk what this is but…it’s..definitely an addition to the dadrry universe .. for sure (prob will delete 🔥)

not necessary but here’s the first dadrry post if ur into that

masterlist

July 2021

The sound of the credits rolling filled the living room as Harry leaned back against the couch, a sleepy grin tugging at his lips. Atlas, now three years old and still wide-eyed with excitement, sat curled up against his father’s side, his tiny fingers clutching the corner of a fleece one direction blanket that Harry had bought off Etsy, something he found to be absolutely hilarious. They had just finished watching the original Spider-Man movie, the one with Tobey Maguire, and Harry couldn’t help but chuckle at the awe that was practically radiating off his son.

“Dad,” Atlas breathed, his voice filled with wonder as he looked up at Harry with those big, round eyes that mirrored his mother’s. “Pider-man s’cool.”

They were working on his pronunciation of R’s and S’s. Not too much progress yet.

Harry bit back a laugh, ruffling his son’s messy curls as he glanced down at him. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool, isn’t he?”

Atlas nodded vigorously, his little legs kicking against the couch as his excitement bubbled over. “He climbs n’ has webs n’ fights ba’guys!”

Harry grinned, watching the way Atlas’s face lit up as he recounted all of the abilities with the fervor only a toddler could muster. His little hands gestured wildly as if he were mimicking shooting webs out of his wrists.

“Best superhero in’a whole world!” Atlas declared, sitting up straighter as if this revelation were the most important one he’d ever made.

Harry chuckled, reaching over to grab the remote and lower the volume on the TV. “Better than Batman?”

“Super much better.” Atlas exclaimed, his voice incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe Harry would even ask such a thing.

“Better than Iron Man?” Harry tried again, his tone teasing as he listed off another iconic hero.

His boy paused for a moment, his brow furrowing in concentration as he thought it over. His little hand lifted to his chin in the same way Harry often did when he was deep in thought, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of it. After a moment, Atlas shook his head decisively. “M’yeah. Way cooler.”

Harry leaned back against the couch, folding his arms as he played along. “So, that’s it? Peter Parker’s just the best?”

“Yeah!” Atlas said excitedly, jumping off the couch and running around the living room, pretending to shoot webs from his wrists. “He’s fast ‘nd he can climb buildings like this!” He hopped up on the couch and began to scale the back of it with his small, wobbly legs, pretending he was on the side of a skyscraper.

Harry leaned forward, his hands hovering near Atlas to catch him in case he lost his balance. “Easy there, spidey,” he chuckled. “No need to break the couch, bub.”

Atlas giggled as he perched himself on the top of the couch, still caught up in his make-believe world. He turned to Harry, his eyes bright with excitement. “Daddy?” He paused, watching his father’s gaze resettle upon him. “y’think spideys stronger than you?”

Harry raised an eyebrow, smirking as he leaned back against the couch again. “Stronger than me, huh? That’s a tough one. I mean, I’ve got some pretty strong muscles too, you know.” He tried to persuade his son, flexing his bicep in front of him.

Atlas tilted his head, considering this for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. “M’no cause he can do this!” He flung his wrist out, making a thwip! noise as he pretended to shoot webs across the room.

Harry’s grin widened as he watched his son in full superhero mode. “Alright, alright, you’ve got me there. I don’t have webs.”

“Duh!” The boy exclaimed again, leaping off the couch and landing with a soft thud on the carpet. He scrambled back up and raced over to Harry, his little hands grabbing at his dad’s arms as he looked up at him with pure adoration. “But y’cool too, dad.”

Harry laughed, his heart swelling at the sight of his son’s wide grin. “Oh, just cool am I? Not the coolest?”

Atlas giggled, shaking his head, jumping in place with his palms against his dad’s knees. “Nope, he–he still more better.”

YN had been listening from the kitchen as she prepared dinner, the scent of garlic and herbs filling the air. She leaned against the counter, smiling to herself as she heard the playful back-and-forth between her husband and their son. Harry always had such a way of connecting with Atlas—whether it was through silly games, bedtime stories, or, in this case, debates over superheroes.

She wiped her hands on a dish towel and wandered into the living room, catching sight of Atlas now climbing into Harry’s lap. “What’s all this about Spider-Man?” she asked, crossing her arms with a mock-stern expression.

The curly haired boy whipped his head around, his face lighting up when he saw his mom. “Mama! We watched’ed pider-man!”

YN raised her eyebrows, glancing at Harry, who shrugged with an amused smile. “I see,” she said, nodding seriously. “And where does daddy rank on the superhero scale?”

Without missing a beat, Atlas giggled and pointed at Harry. “M’he not a superhero—he’s just daddy!”

Harry feigned offense, gasping dramatically as he clutched his chest. “Just dad? C’mon, mate, I’m way cooler than that.”

Atlas giggled even harder, clearly enjoying the game. “Y’climb on buildings?”

Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around Atlas and pulling him into a gentle bear hug. “Okay, I can’t climb buildings, but I bet Spider-Man can’t make pancakes as good as me.”

The boy paused, clearly torn by this new piece of information. He loved his dad’s pancakes, after all. But after a moment, he shook his head, his resolve firm. “Pider-man don’t eat pancakes.”

YN laughed as she sat down on the couch beside them, placing her hand on Harry’s knee. “He’s got you there, babe. You might have to accept second place.”

He sighed in mock defeat, his dimples deepening as he looked down at his boy, who was grinning from ear to ear. “Alright, fine. he can be the coolest for now. But when you get hungry in the morning, don’t come crying to me for pancakes.”

“He make them for me!” Atlas shot back with a laugh, clearly enjoying teasing his dad.

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of Atlas’s curly head. “You think Parker knows how to make chocolate chip pancakes like I do? I doubt it.”

YN watched them with a soft smile, her heart swelling with affection. She loved these moments—the way Harry could be completely goofy and playful with their son, never taking himself too seriously, and the way Atlas adored his dad with a fierceness that made her heart melt. It was a kind of magic, watching the two of them together.

She ran a finger through Harry’s curls, pressing a kiss into the locks as she breathed him in. “I’m plating dinner.” She mumbled as she ambled back into the kitchen.

Harry grunted as he stood up, pulling his son up in his arms along with him. “To the table, web-slinger.” He told Atlas, swinging him in his arms with small little swooshing sounds.

Their boy giggled as Harry swooped him through the air like an airplane, his little arms stretched out as if he were flying. They made their way to the kitchen, where YN was setting plates of steaming food on the table.

"Hungry?” YN teased as Harry plopped Atlas into his booster seat.

He nodded enthusiastically. "I want 'tatoes!"

Harry chuckled, grabbing a spoon to serve Atlas a helping of mashed potatoes. "Here you go, bubba. But no webs at the dinner table, okay?"

He giggled, pretending to shoot webs one more time before focusing on his plate. Harry and YN exchanged a fond smile, and for a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sounds of dinner-plates clinking, forks scraping, and the occasional happy hum from Atlas as he devoured his meal.

After dinner, they settled into their nighttime routine-baths, pajamas, and a bedtime story.

Atlas, freshly bathed and smelling of lavender, jumped snuggled into his bed. It was navy blue with cartoonish planets littered about, but his favorite thing would have to be his rainbow zebra-print 1D blanket tucked around him. Harry sat on the edge of the bed, the familiar worn copy of Goodnight Moon in his hands.

"Goodnight room, goodnight moon," He read softly, his voice soothing. Atlas's eyelids grew heavy as he clutched his favorite stuffed animal, a plush giraffe.

YN stood in the doorway, watching her two boys with a soft smile. She loved these quiet moments, the way Harry's voice softened as he read to Atlas, the way their son's small body relaxed into sleep. "Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere."

As he closed the book, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Atlas's forehead. "Goodnight, spidey."

Atlas's lips curled into a sleepy smile, his voice a soft mumble as he drifted off. "G’night, daddy."

With that, Harry quietly stood and tiptoed out of the room, YN slipping her hand into his as they left their little guy to dream of webs and skyscrapers.

The door closed behind them with a soft click before he scooped his wife over his shoulder quietly, trudging toward their bedroom and throwing her onto the bed through her soft protests.

YN laughed as she landed on the bed, playfully swatting at Harry as he crawled over her. "You're ridiculous," she whispered, though her smile said she didn't mind one bit.

Her husband grinned, his eyes twinkling in the dim light of their bedroom. "Well, if I'm not the coolest in the house, l've got to show off my other skills, don't I?"

She rolled her eyes, pulling him down for a kiss. "You're still my favorite," she murmured against his lips.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands resting on her hips as he whispered back, "Good, because I'm not giving up that spot anytime soon."

The house grew quiet, the hum of the evening settling in around them as they lay together.

Outside, the stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky, and the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze was the only sound breaking the silence. Harry reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, wrapping his arms around YN as they snuggled into each other.

It was in those days that Harry realized—he didn't need to be the coolest superhero. Being Atlas's dad, YN's husband, and the maker of the best chocolate chip pancakes in the world was more than enough. It was everything.

[sugurugetoshairbrush]

gosh i’m so loving ur stoner suguru stuff…u are so good i love ur work !!!!

tysm!! appreciate you for reading <3—think I’m obsessed with him [prev] [nxt]

tl;dr bong rips with stoner!suguru getou (gone wrong)

it’s not long before suguru invites you back to his place. first, he messages to check if now’s a good time. then, he’s calling to ask if you’re free next weekend. he mentions there’s going to be a block party on his street—an unofficial hempfest of sorts. according to him, the turnout is always huge, and this year, he’s supplying bud for the event.

“we’re setting up a mobile cannabis bar,” he explains, nonchalantly. 

“flashy, easy to distribute from.”

apparently, the event is where gojo’s new strain, bleu dragon’s breath, will debut. “we’re not working the event,” suguru adds bluntly. “we’ve done more than enough in production; they can push the product themselves.”

you laugh at his tone. “what are you, some notorious drug lord?”

he brushes it off with a chuckle and says he’ll pick you up from work friday to avoid the traffic jam that’s sure to hit later.

“and,” he adds with a mischievous lilt, “we’ll pregame with gojo. he just got a new bong—we’ve gotta break it in.”

naturally, you’re down.

by midweek, you realize how big this block party really is when you see flyers plastered around campus. they’re everywhere—on bulletin boards, lampposts, your timeline—featuring bold graphics and a list of attendees: caterers, vendors, and a handful of local influencers.

the day of, suguru pulls up outside your job in his sleek black car, turning a few heads as you approach. your older coworkers eye the tinted windows, whispering amongst themselves.

he greets you with a warm smile as you settle into the passenger seat. “how was work, pretty girl?”

he’s wearing a black nike tech set—your favorite color on him, not that there’s much competition since it’s about eighty percent of his wardrobe. his hair is half-up, the loose bun framing his face just right.

you tell him about the ridiculous filing error that ate up your entire shift. as you talk, he takes your hand, brushing light kisses across your knuckles.

he gets a call from shoko a few minutes later, muttering an apology before answering. it sounds like some last-minute adjustments for the event.

by the time you reach his street, it’s buzzing with activity—tents going up, booths being set, a dj assembling his gear. suguru parks on a side street, and you walk the rest of the way to his building. inside, the energy is palpable, music blasting from the first floor.

upstairs, you hear the shower running and gojo belting out some song at full volume. suguru rolls his eyes. “obnoxious as always,” he mutters, leading you to his room.

you’ve packed a change of clothes in your work bag. setting it down, you hear a loud beep from the kitchen.

“that’s the sushi bake,” suguru says. “gojo’s idea. guy’s a munchies connoisseur.” he heads off to grab it from the oven while you change into an olive-green two-piece skirt set. after refreshing your curls and makeup, you find suguru divvying up the sushi.

“damn,” he whistles as you approach. he feeds you a piece, his gaze lingering. “tastes good, but not half as good as you look right now.”

his hands slide to your waist as he presses a soft kiss to your pulse point.

you hear another whistle, this time, from behind you. “that’s all you, suguru?”

you turn to find gojo, freshly showered, white hair damp and sticking to his forehead. he’s wearing light gray cargos, white adidas, and an azure zip-up that matches his eyes.

“if not,” he grins, “I can easily take over.”

suguru shoves his shoulder. “satoru, please—don’t push it.”

gojo giggles, pulling you into a quick side hug. “what can I say? It’s to be expected when you’re with a baddie. I’d know—I’m a baddie myself.”

you laugh. “I know that’s right.”

suguru groans, “I’m going to change.”

while he’s gone, gojo fills you in on the event lineup and gushes about his new bong, which sits on the coffee table. it’s sleek, with royal blue detailing, almost like a microscope. he tells you that the cannabis bar is going to be managed by shoko tonight, they hired toji, from the first floor, and his buddy as servers. he says they’re always in need of work, as gojo bluntly put it, “they’ll do anything for a dollar.”

when suguru returns in a black compression shirt and windbreaker pants, your brain stalls. the shirt clings to his muscles, accentuating the ridges of his abdomen and the curve of his biceps. he’s leisurely brushing his hair out with a paddle brush, framing his face, and you resist the urge to drop his drawls. 

he grabs the bong and grins. “ready?”

the three of you pile onto the couch, gojo calling dibs for the first hit. he sprinkles the weed into the bowl before packing it down and lighting it. wrapping his lips around the tube, he inhales deeply. smoke billows, rising steadily as the water bubbles. when he exhales, his face twists in pain, and he erupts into a coughing fit.

suguru slaps his back. “it’s okay to cough, man.”

once gojo recovers, suguru takes a hit, inhaling sharply and blowing smoke out through his nose. he smirks. “just not built like me, satoru.”

gojo glares but says nothing. you take the bong next, asking gojo to light it. following suguru’s instructions, you inhale, the smoke harsh on your throat. you manage half a hit before passing it back, coughing softly.

“pulls smooth,” suguru says, finishing your rip with ease.

the session continues until you and gojo are slouched, thoroughly toasted. only suguru’s still going strong. you poke gojo’s side. 

“you feeling it?”

he cracks an eye open, pupils hazy. “… yeah, you?”

you blink at him, grinning stupefied. you both dissolve into giggles, drawing a look from suguru. 

“what’s so funny,” he runs his hand through his hair twisting at the ends, “giggling like a couple of schoolgirls.”

“you wish,” gojo wheezes. “your secret fantasy.”

suguru stretches, “it scares me that you keep adding yourself into the equation,” he stands and walks to the window, peering out. “we should head out soon.”

now that he mentions it, you hear the rhythmic thump of music playing outside, the muffled shout of the dj over the mic. 

suguru taps the window, “I lent them my speakers, the sound output capacity is insane.”

you rise to your feet, reaching down to swat gojo’s shoulder. he glances between the two of you, his eyes heavy and bloodshot. “kaay~ ‘m ready,” he drawls.

as you shuffle out, suguru checks his phone.

“shoko says the bar’s a hit. everything’s running smoothly.”

“as it should be,” you murmur, slightly delayed, trailing him out the door.

outside, the street is teeming with life. cars are jammed along both sides, a few haphazardly parked on sidewalks or half-on, half-off lawns. people are everywhere—some lounging on car hoods, others weaving through the crowd. you catch sight of a few familiar faces from uni as you pass. the dj setup dominates the scene, blasting music loud enough to vibrate through your chest. the largest crowd is gathered around a black tent housing caterers busy with trays of food.

suguru steers the three of you toward the cannabis bar, nodding at familiar faces on the way. the bar is sleek, its emerald-green counter illuminated by a glowing marijuana leaf at its center.

behind the counter stands toji and another man, both in black muscle tees under matching green aprons. a long-haired brunette, presumably shoko, sorts through mylar bags behind them.

toji spots suguru and waves broadly. “my boy! appreciate you hooking me up with this gig. you really came through.”

his voice is louder than your nerves can handle in your current state, so you linger behind suguru, offering a small wave instead. shoko picks up a mylar bag—sapphire blue, sparkly, with a dragon head spitting fire in the corner—and starts discussing marketing strategies with toji’s partner. you’re about to zone out entirely when your phone vibrates in your hand.

gojo satoru has added you to a group chat

bongbros  gojo satoru: what’s fr goign on rn XD

gojo’s timing is impeccable, and you have to stifle a laugh.

you: idk i fee l like im stuck you: can’t stop staring loll

gojo satoru: tryna figure out y toji & shui r working in wife beaters wtfff

you snort.

you: nah cuz y it look like yall hired former inmates from a reentry program

sugu: lmfaoao sugu: toji genuinely has no shame he woulda done it shirtless

gojo satoru: slut

sugu: guys fr though say something your starting to look weird af

you glance up to find suguru glaring at you and gojo while shoko patiently explains the menu to an inquiring couple.

gojo clears his throat, “looking good, toji. how’s little megumi?”

of all the things he could’ve said, that was the wrong one. suguru crosses his arms, and toji’s jaw tightens.

“actually, the boy’s doing good. his mom’s bringing him today. wanted to show him I can be a good father figure or whatever.”

“dad!”

as if summoned, a child barrels into toji’s side. he’s small, with spiky black hair and wide, curious eyes. his tiny fists clutch toji’s waist.

“didn’t think you’d be here,” the boy says. “mom said you were lying.”

toji groans, ruffling the boy’s hair. “don’t listen to her when she says shi–uh, stuff like that, kid.” 

he fist-bumps megumi before ushering him off. “go run around, sport. saw some other kids out here somewhere.”

megumi spins on his heel and dashes off, shouting a cheerful, “see ya!” over his shoulder.

a dark-haired woman, her shoulder-length hair as wiry as megumi’s, approaches, hands on her hips. “now where did that boy run off to? don’t tell me you lost him already.”

you deadpan at suguru, who’s busy typing on his phone.

bongbros sugu: this is about to blow my high. how do we leave

gojo peeks at the screen and quickly improvises. “guys, nanami just texted me. he’s down the street. let’s go.”

without hesitation, you, suguru, and gojo slip away unnoticed, leaving toji and his ex mid-argument.

“good save, satoru,” suguru mutters, his hand settling on your waist as he guides you through the sea of people. you poke gojo in the back playfully.

“came up with that lie pretty quick.”

gojo chuckles. “no, I’m actually a terrible liar. he really did text me—he’s over there.” he points down the street.

suguru drums his fingers lightly on your side. “you go ahead. we’re grabbing drinks from the tent.”

gojo flashes two thumbs up and spins on his heel. “text me~!”

the turnout is massive. everywhere you look, people are holding emerald-green cups from the cannabis bar–thc infused drinks. the atmosphere is charged—friends chatting, couples dirty-dancing near the dj booth, laughter blending into the music.

in the catering tent, the servers are polished, dressed in slacks and tucked-in shirts. suguru orders a beer, and you ask for a frozen wine, craving something fancy. the drink is fruity and refreshing, a cold burst of relief in the humid air. you let out a content sigh.

“cotton mouth?” suguru teases, popping the cap off his beer.

“you don’t even know. feels like I haven’t had anything to drink in years.”

he chuckles, taking a long sip, his throat bobbing as he swallows. the sight draws your gaze for a moment longer than you’d like to admit.

suguru smirks and leans closer, his hand sliding down your back to give your ass a playful squeeze. “can’t have that now, can we?”

he kisses you, the malty scent of beer mingling with his warmth. your free hand moves to his arm, fingers tracing the firm muscle beneath his sleeve. the two of you sway gently to the music, the air thick with liquor, sweat, and smoked barbecue.

another kiss lands on your temple, tender and lingering, before your phones buzz simultaneously.

bongbros gojo satoru: guys guys guys guys gojo satoru: sports cars doing donuts gojo satoru: nanami’s got the lambo gojo satoru: djfojfjdsd

sugu: stop blowing our shit up

gojo satoru: D:

sugu: on our way

by now, the sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the scene, but somehow the energy has only intensified. hollers echo down the street, engines revving as the smell of burning rubber fills the air. suguru had mentioned nanami before—a childhood friend from their hometown. he’s a salaryman, and from what you’ve heard from gojo can be pretty uptight, but is insanely wealthy.

you spot gojo’s hand waving high above the crowd, his ridiculous height a beacon. as you approach, you see a yellow corvette drifting at the fork in the road, tires screeching, while onlookers cheer wildly.

gojo is leaning into the open driver’s window of a sleek green lamborghini. the man in the driver’s seat is handsome, with slicked-back sandy-blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a jawline that could cut glass. you blink, wondering if everyone in suguru’s circle is preternaturally attractive. there’s got to be something in their water.

“ah, there you are.” suguru’s voice snaps you back to reality as he introduces you to nanami, who greets you with a polite nod and a brief, “pleasure to meet you. heard lots.”

gojo is grinning like a kid, egging nanami on. “c’mon, rev it! assert your dominance, nanamin~”

before you can roll your eyes, you feel a tug on your shirt. confused, you glance down and find little megumi, his lips stained blue from a popsicle that’s dripping steadily onto the pavement.

“hello, miss.” his voice is timid, and his big eyes flit nervously to the side. “um my dad told me to tell you that you look really pretty tonight. he said you should talk to him later.”

you blink, stifling a laugh as his cheeks flush pink.

“and that’s it. I only said yes so I could get this popsicle.”

he’s so earnest it’s hard to be mad at toji’s sleazy attempt to use his own kid as a wingman. you pat megumi’s head gently.

“thanks for telling me. you can let him know suguru will talk to him. now go enjoy that popsicle!”

the boy beams and darts off, leaving a trail of blue drips in his wake. when you turn back, suguru and gojo have joined nanami in the lambo, chatting casually. deciding to tread carefully, you pull out your phone to message gojo privately.

you: soooo toji’s kid just told me his dad thinks I look pretty. how mad will that make suguru?

gojo’s eyes widen as he reads the message.

gojo satoru: :0 come again?? gojo satoru: using his son is crazy work gojo satoru: but just tell him. he’ll prob just be annoyed

gojo is wrong. suguru isn’t just annoyed—he’s pissed.

when you relay the story to the group chat, suguru immediately gets out of the car, his jaw tight. 

“I’m sorry, he did what?”

in hindsight, telling a cross-faded suguru wasn’t your best move. you try to downplay it. “it’s fine, just tell him off later. no big deal.”

suguru rolls his neck, drawing in a deep breath. gojo scrambles out of the car. “whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”

suguru hands gojo his beer and flashes you a deceptively calm smile. “I think I’ll talk to him now. he’s got some nerve.”

you and gojo exchange panicked looks before rushing to follow him as he storms through the crowd.

“toji!”

toji looks up from where he’s crouched by the bar, snuffing out a cigarette. he grins sheepishly, straightening up.

“hey, neph. c’mon, ’s all love. jusst jokes.” his words slur, he must’ve got into something despite working the event.

suguru doesn’t stop, an unreadable look on his face. 

“stand up.”

toji chuckles nervously but rises to his feet. “no hard feelings?”

suguru tilts his head. “where’s your son?”

“two streets down with the neighbor ki—”

THWACK.

suguru’s fist connects with toji’s cheek in a brutal arc. gojo curses, spilling beer on your top as he stumbles forward.

“shit, shit, shit!”

toji staggers back, clutching his face, but suguru doesn’t advance. he exhales slowly, his voice low and sharp. “you’re fired.”

toji scoffs, but before he can retort, megumi’s mother shouts from across the yard, “now, toji, I know your sorry-ass didn’t just lose another job—”

gojo grabs you by the wrist, steering you and suguru away before the scene escalates further.

his grip is firm, unfaltering, as he weaves through the crowd until you all regroup behind a tricked-out silver nissan. suguru leans against the car, running a hand through his hair.

“sorry, guys,” he starts, his tone low and tense. “I shouldn’t have done that. he’s been disrespecting me all week.”

you shoot him a sympathetic look. “I don’t care about the punch—it is what it is.”

gojo snickers, folding his arms. “honestly? someone had to do it.”

“but,” you continue, your voice soft, “what about the bar? you don’t want this mess tied back to it.”

suguru sighs, nodding. “you’re right. I should go back, smooth things over. shoko already texted me the numbers—we’re good to pack it up early.”

gojo glances down at you and his eyes widen in realization. “shit, I didn’t mean to spill beer all over you. I can take you back to the apartment so you can clean up.”

you look down, grimacing at the sticky fabric clinging to your chest. “yeah, it’s starting to get gross.”

gojo extends his hand out, palm down. “sounds good. okay, bongbros—on three!”

suguru visibly cringes, briefly cupping your cheek in his hand before heading back toward the bar.

gojo pouts dramatically. “rude.”

the apartment building is eerily quiet, with most tenants likely still outside. now that you’re away from the thumping music and roaring crowd, you realize your ears are ringing.

on the elevator ride up, you and gojo start debriefing the night’s events, laughing at how surreal it all felt.

“I still can’t believe it,” gojo says, shaking his head. “he just—boom! punched the shit out of him.”

you’re giggling when you trudge inside. gojo flicks on the lights and immediately flops face-down on the couch.

“jus let y’rself into sugu’s room f’clothes,” he mumbles into the cushion.

in suguru’s bedroom, you peel off your soaked top, smoothing out your skirt—which, miraculously, stayed dry. you grab some wipes from his dresser to clean the sticky residue off your chest and arms before rifling through his closet.

you settle on one of his white button-up shirts, the fabric loose and soft as it drapes over your frame, the hem brushing the top of your skirt.

gojo calls out from the other room. “hey, I’m gonna run back downstairs—sugu says toji and megumi’s mom are in a drunken spat. gonna check on the kid.”

“go ahead,” you reply, sprawling across suguru’s bed. his scent surrounds you, and in the quiet privacy of his room, your body finally relaxes.

the dizziness from being crossfaded creeps up on you, making you feel hot and languid. catching your reflection in the mirror, you notice how disheveled you look—hair tousled, the button-up hanging loosely off your shoulders, revealing a hint of your lacy black bra. your skirt has ridden up just enough to tease the matching panties beneath.

your phone buzzes.

sugu: you okay? sugu: sorry again. sugu: if you want to leave, I understand.

you: sugu I’m not mad

sugu: were you able to change?

you smirk. lifting your phone, you lean forward slightly, letting the shirt hang off your chest just enough to entice. angling your phone, you snap a couple photos.

you: 2 attachments sent

you watch the text bubble appear, then vanish, then reappear.

sugu: fuck. sugu: you look so fucking good. sugu: my pretty girl.

you: you like?

sugu: so much. sugu: I’m almost done. want me to join you?

you: that’s not all I want…

you record a voice memo, your tone low and sultry. “I want you to come up here and undress me, sugu—I need you.”

you hit send, watching as he saves the audio. for a few agonizing moments, nothing happens.

then a notification pops up—not from suguru, but from the group chat.

bongbros gojo satoru: OMFG gojo satoru: LMAOOAOAOAO gojo satoru: SUGURU’S PHONE JUST CONXECTED TO THE SPEAKER

your stomach drops.

gojo satoru: sounded sexy btw gojo satoru: sugu please don’t punch me 4 that^

you: the whole message played???

gojo satoru: nah, just the first 2 secs

you: omg

gojo satoru: LMAO sugu just had the dj start scrubbing a track so it seemed like part of the set gojo satoru: his face is so red

sugu: almost just had a fuckign heart attack sugu: my phone auto connected to bluetooth

you: I’m sorry suguu :( you: <3

sugu: <3

gojo satoru: <3

sugu: satoru

gojo satoru: :P gojo satoru: guys megumi is gonna stay over tn his parents are having drunk make up sex in the backseat of toji’s honda gojo satoru: I was keeping him distracted with games on my phone were coming up now

sugu: me too i feel fried

by the time gojo returns with megumi, you’re completely drained. you help him set up blankets and pillows on the couch while megumi disappears into gojo’s room with his phone.

gojo flops onto the couch dramatically. “I just… can’t.”

smiling weakly, you drape a blanket over him before returning to suguru’s bed. shedding your skirt, you collapse onto the comforter, exhaustion pulling you into a haze.

suguru slips in quietly sometime later, flopping on top of you.

you wheeze, tapping his arm. “can’t. breathe.”

he rolls to the side, cradling your face with his hands. his dark eyes soften as he presses gentle kisses to your nose, forehead, and cheek.

“you stayed,” he murmurs, his voice tinged with relief.

“of course,” you whisper, smiling.

suguru pulls you into his arms, his chest flush against your back as his lips brush against your neck. his warm, steady presence lulls you into that foggy space between wakefulness and sleep—until his lips press slow, deliberate kisses along your neck, and you let out a shaky moan.

his fingers twitch against your waist, his breath hot and heavy in your ear. “that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs.

his hand moves with a desperate sort of hunger, tracing the curve of your breast before slipping beneath the lace of your bra. when his finger grazes the metal of your piercing, the mix of cool and heat sends a jolt through you, drawing out a whimper you can’t contain.

“so sensitive.”

his tongue drags a wet stripe up the side of your neck, and his foot hooks around your ankle, guiding you to straddle him. his palms slide down your thighs, spreading them as he pulls you flush against him.

“you drove me crazy tonight,” he breathes into your ear, voice laced with want. “your voice message… so needy.”

you nod, squirming as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging playfully.

“say it,” he demands softly.

your bottom lip slips free from your teeth, likely raw from all your biting. “need you so badly, sugu.”

the desperation in your tone has him groaning low in his throat. “I’ve got you, baby,” he murmurs, his breath fanning against your skin. “but you gotta be quiet for me.”

his fingers find your clothed clit, moving in maddeningly slow circles. your breath stutters as you nod weakly in agreement. his pace quickens, and his tongue flicks teasingly at the shell of your ear, making you momentarily forget how to breathe.

“baby, you’re soaked,” he whispers, his voice tinged with amusement. “these panties are drenched.”

he slides his fingers along the fabric, slick from your arousal, and you squeak when he skims over your clit. his hands spread your thighs wider, one steadying you while the other pulls your panties to the side.

“be a good girl and stay quiet,” he instructs, pressing two fingers inside you with deliberate slowness.

they’re thick, filling you to the point of blissful ache, and the sensation draws breathy, shallow moans from your lips.

“shhh.”

his fingers curl inside you, seeking the spot that has your thighs trembling. he sets a steady pace, each motion purposeful. between his hot breath, the mounting pressure in your core, and the obscene sounds of your wetness, you’re overwhelmed.

your release builds fast, slick gushing around his fingers. you whisper his name, fighting to stay quiet, even as he speeds up. his free hand finds your clit, rubbing tight, relentless circles.

“feels good?” he asks, the rasp in his voice nearly enough to undo you.

you manage a stuttered, “s-sugu, feels so good—ah, ’m close.”

“already?” he teases, his smirk audible. “gonna come for me? come all over my fingers?”

his words are your undoing. your stomach tightens, and you gasp out, “sugu, gonna—”

before you can finish, he withdraws his fingers, leaving you teetering on the edge. a strangled moan escapes, muffled when he clamps his hand over your mouth.

“shhh, baby.”

your tongue darts out to lick at his palm, and he groans low in his chest. his fingers flick over your clit, and you shudder as he pushes them into your mouth.

“suck.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his fingers, the taste of yourself flooding your senses. he continues working you, fingers stroking deep inside, drawing out your climax. your walls flutter around him, your muffled cries vibrating against his fingers as you ride out the waves.

when you finally catch your breath, your body feels languid, boneless. he withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, leaving a string of saliva between them and your lips.

“you did so well for me,” he coos, pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck. his hands smooth over your skin, tucking your panties back into place as he cradles you against him.

the buzz of satisfaction hums in your veins, and his words blur into the haze of post-orgasm bliss. as he rests you on your side, his touch soothing, sleep pulls you under. the last thing you think is his name, whispered like a prayer.

[@tojisth3rdwife consider this my formal apology for bum!toji]

[moonstruckme]

hii idk if ur taking requests but can u write sth with rockstar!remus who’s like full of adrenaline after a shkw and just kisses r ☹️☹️ the others wont let them be LOLLL😭😭😭 hope ur having an amazing day 💘

You have an amazing day too !

rockstar!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 643 words

James all but sprints off the stage, as he always does, working off his post-show adrenaline the best way he knows how. His routine seems unaltered by the fact that this is the biggest show the boys have played yet, but you don’t suppose he can really kick it into a higher gear than it already is. It’s also entertaining for the rest of you, watching him hurdle over sound equipment and careen past frightened-looking crew members before calling a “sorry!” behind him. 

You know to expect Remus behind him, leaving the stage at a slower pace while Sirius stays and soaks up the energy for as long as he can before someone physically drags him off, but you’re not expecting the unusual energy about your boyfriend when he comes in. 

Remus is crackling, the exact sound of when he plugs his bass into the amp but around him like an aura. Your heart kicks in your chest. 

You beam at him, holding up the small bouquet you’d impulse-bought at a stand a few blocks from the venue. You feel a bit silly, but Remus doesn’t seem to mind. 

He lets out a breathy little laugh at the sight of you and shakes his head as he takes two long strides, grasping your hips and pressing you into the wall. 

The flowers are instantly forgotten. Remus’ mouth is warm and insistent on yours, his knee pushing in between your legs and his nose pressed into your cheek. You don’t realize you’ve stopped breathing until he breaks the kiss. 

He sets both hands on your cheeks. There are crew members buzzing around you, and the crowd is still thrumming outside, and somewhere James is talking loudly, but Remus’ face is the only thing in the world. Scarred and sweaty and smiling at you. 

“Great show,” you scrape out. 

Another short laugh. If you didn’t know better, you’d say your boyfriend was giddy. “Yeah?” He gives you another kiss, shorter but still shock-happy. His lips stay curved against yours. “I thought so,” he admits, a bit softer, like a secret. 

You lower your voice to match. “You were incredible.” 

Remus grins even bigger, brilliant and totally unlike himself. He’s practically glowing. 

“Remus,” Sirius shouts, prancing toward the both of you with his usual regard for private intimacy, “if you’d pause in fondling your girlfriend, James says we’ve got a group out back who wants autographs.” 

Remus drops his forehead to yours, his disbelieving puff of air tickling over your nose. You pet down the hairs at his nape. 

“Oh, are these for us?” Sirius sounds delighted. Remus doesn’t take the bait, but you do, turning to find him looking at the flowers hanging limply from your grasp. “Doll, you shouldn’t have!”

“How could I resist,” you play along, letting go of Remus to ease one of the stems out from the rest. Sirius takes it from you happily. “They go so well with your outfits.” 

“More Remus’ than ours,” James notes, coming over. He’s even sweatier than the other two, but his excess energy seems mostly spent, “but I’m sure that’s only coincidence.” 

“Certainly,” Sirius agrees. “She’d never pick favorites. Say, babe, want me to sign something of yours?”

“She’s good,” Remus answers for you, tugging you closer and touching his lips to your brow. “I’ve got this one.” 

“I’ll bet you do.” James is grinning. He prods Remus’ shoulder, encouraging you both to follow him towards where the fans are waiting. “She may not pick favorites, but you will, is that right?” 

“Enough,” Remus says, but he’s still too happy to work up any real rancor. 

“Oh, I already know you’re gonna get an extra special autograph, doll,” Sirius teases. Your face starts to heat. “Likely when we see you tomorrow, he’ll have left you some even darker than a marker could do—” 

“Enough.” 

[wttcsms]

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

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

Don’t do it.

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

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

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

And he does.

Every. Single. Time.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t do it.

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

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

“Move.”

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

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

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

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

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

And they’re not wrong, anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Little boy.

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

“Leave him alone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not friends.”

“Too late. I told my dad we were.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hmm. Okay.”

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?”

“For you to eat, silly.”

“...How much?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay. So maybe he does accept your offer.

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

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

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

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

“And yet, you’re still always here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure about that?”

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

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

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

For your words to be true.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You like Megumi. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you hate him now?

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

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

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

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

He yanks a guy who’s coming from upstairs.

“Ow, man, what the fuc—”

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

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

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

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

He finds himself heading up the stairs anyway.

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

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

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

It’s locked. 

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

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

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

It’s a phone ringing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s only a matter of time.

You’re too good to be true.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Daddy, daddy, daddy.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s silent for a minute.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll go. Or, we can go together.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bluehwale]

unconventional first encounters with ateez

part one // part two

pairing. ateez x reader (specifically fem! reader for seonghwa's & jongho's)

genre. fluff, humor, this is a headcanon with a teensy bit of thriller and fantasy (and maybe sci-fi)

warning(s). a creepy man stalking u (san's part), swearing, mentions of drinking alcohol, mentions of murder without actual murder, a crazy toxic ex (jongho's part), mingi had a one night stand, mentions of nudity without actual nudity, this is not proofread, seonghwa’s scenes are inspired by the kdrama “youth of may”

word count. 8.7k (sorry in advance)

note. i’ve created a monster… the 3k words headcanon suddenly snowballed into almost 9k oops i think i had too much fun writing this,, anyways please tell me ur favorites! mine would be seonghwa’s, wooyoung’s, and yunho’s bc it may or may not be inspired by a true story,,, (if u notice me reusing a trope in this hc,,,,, no u don’t)

masterlist

kim hongjoong

you're in a skateboard park

"why did you follow me here?"mingi slurps on his juicebox as he steps on the nose of his skateboard, "you don't even skate."

you turn to look at him and cheekily grin

"is it wrong to want to spend time with my bestfriend?"

mingi raises a brow

okay fine

he's right

you don't skate and you basically see mingi everyday at campus so you're actually kind of sick of him (don't tell him that)

so you're not really here for him

"just go do your thing," you make shooing gestures at the boy with pink hair as you turn to plop down on the side walk

"i'll sit here and watch."

:-D

sit and watch one of the most attractive guys you've ever seen skateboard

kim hongjoong

and there he is

laughing with his friends and doing little skateboard tricks that you can't name

everytime you look at him you hear sk8ter boi by avril lavigne playing as the background music

it's not a crush btw you just think he's super cool

you're falling in love with him

mingi blinks twice at you and proceeds to follow your line of sight

"oh c'mon."

"what??" you huff, trying to avoid his judgemental glare, "i just think he's cute, okay???"

"yeah but i thought whatever phase you had over him would be over by now."

well u thought wrong !!!!! >:-D

"instead of ogling over him, you should try skating."

mingi throws away his empty juicebox in a nearby trash can and drops his board before gently kicking it in your direction

the board hits your feet

"you're trying to kill me?" you deadpan before kicking the board back to his direction

"oh come on!" mingi flails his arms around as he whines "it'll be fun!!!!!"

"fun for you," you snort while trying to look over his gigantic ass that's currently blocking your view, "i'll probably end up with a broken arm."

mingi suddenly grabs onto your hands and pull you up

"nonsense! i'm right here-" he adjusts you on his skateboard and makes sure both your feet are planted firmly on it, "- i won't let anything happen to you :-D"

the thing is

you love your best friend

but you absolutely cannot trust him in situations like this

you were about to hop off his board and make a run for it

but mingi starts rolling you forward gently

"dUDE!" you yelp, immediately holding tight on his arms that are still gripping you as you both move around the park

"bro calm down, we're going at like 5 kilometers per hour"

and you both kinda go at it for awhile

and oh

oHHH!

wait a minute

this is actually pretty fun !!!!!! :-D

mingi laughs at your excited grin

"see! i told you it's fun!!!!"

okay yeah he's right about this one

"now you try on your own !!!!!"

sometimes mingi forgets that not everyone can do what he does

he releases his hold on you and gives you a push

your eyes widen

your best friend hollers when the board starts going faster

"MINGI I DON'T KNOW HOW TO STOP THIS THING"

"WAIT Y/N WATCH OUT! THERE'S A--"

you shriek as you hurdle to the ground and the skateboard kinda just tumbles behind you

"a pothole that hasn't been fixed," mingi winces before slowly walking over towards you

but someone beats him to it

"hey are you okay? that was a pretty rough fall"

you look up to see a boy with half of his short hair dyed blonde and the other half black, his wide eyes pooling with concern

cue sk8ter boi by avril lavigne

if he's here........ that means he must've seen you embarrassingly fall flat on your face and basically eat the ground

okay, your dramatic ass actually didn't even fall face first to the ground but,,

you somehow ended up with having your palms and knees on the ground

and the kim hongjoong is right in front of you

..........you had to resist the urge to curl up and die

"i-i'm fine-- ouch," you hiss as you move to push off the ground

exposing your now bloody knees and scratched up palms

apparently you're not fine

"oh no," hongjoong frowns, gently cradling one of your bleeding hands in both of his and you kinda have to muffle back your scream because oMG

he lets go of your hand and kinda digs around in his pants' pocket to pull out what looks like an antiseptic spray thing and a

and a box of pink disney princesses band aids

you didn't know skater boys can be this cute?????? HE'S SO CUTE???????

"i got just the right things to fix you up!" he exclaims and looks over at you for permission, "is it okay if i do it for you?"

you can only nod

meanwhile, mingi's just kinda standing awkwardly on the sidelines while watching the boy disinfect your wounds with the spray

and he sees that hongjoong immediately strikes you into a conversation in an attempt to distract you from the pain once he sees you flinching

and he's just inwardly going wooooo yeah !!!!!! go gET IT Y/N!!!!!!

hongjoong was starting to open the box of bandaids when he notices that you're staring a hole into his busy hands

"don't judge me for these, i just picked up the first ones i see," he says, thinking that you're probably staring at the bandaids because you're thinking of how weird it is for an emo-looking guy like him to have pink bandaids, "i think they're pretty cool anyways."

"yeah, they are cool," you scoot closer to him, "i was just hoping you have either tiana or rapunzel. they're my favorite princesses."

well

hongjoong thinks that's wildly endearing somehow

if he ends up not having two of the princesses in his remaining band-aid pack, he's definitely running to the nearest drugstore to get a new one

just for you :-D

he chuckles and digs around the box to hopefully see a bandaid with a princess dressed in green or another one dressed in purple

as he finishes placing the band-aids on your injuries, he stood up and offers a hand to pull you up

"i'm hongjoong."

yeah you know

you return his name with your own and he softly smiles when repeating your name under his breath

"y/n, try not to get hurt when i see you next time."

park seonghwa

"let's get married."

you almost spurt out the complimentary water you were drinking

what in the arrranged marriage bullshit????

you finally agreed to go on one of many blind dates your mother has arranged to hopefully marry you off in hopes of merging your family company with another powerful company

to which your personal chef, wooyoung, proposed a plan (that had yeosang, your personal assistant, immediately going on his knees to beg you not to do)

wooyoung calls it operation zombie bride

which roughly translates to 'make yourself an undesirable wife'

but you didn't even get the chance to get your acting game going because this park seonghwa of park enterprises is already asking for your hand in marriage

right after you took a seat across him and managed to take ONE sip of the glass of water prepared on your table

"have you lost your mind??" you sputter while trying to swallow down the bits of water you're currently choking on, "you don't even know me!"

seonghwa raises a brow and opens his mouth, ready to retort back to your challenging remark when a waitress come up to your table

"may i start you both with a drink?"

"yes please," you try to force your hiccups to a stop so you can deadpan at the admittedly handsome man in front of you, "i'll have a bottle of beer."

the waitress visibly tries to stifle her surprise because it's currently 11 am and it's unheard of for people like you in a fancy restaurant like this to order the alcoholic drink

but yeah it's none of her business so she just took both of your orders and leaves :-D

"i guess you like to drink."

it's no question that you both obviously know of each other

having both been raised in similar worlds to be the perfect heir to be handed the family company

but you'll show him just how much he doesn't know you

you can somehow hear wooyoung's evil cackles from here

"yes," you widen your eyes and hope that you look unhinged enough, "i can't live without it. whenever i feel sober, my hands tremble like crazy."

wooyoung would be so proud that you've perfectly recited the first part of the script he wrote

"i see." an intrigued brow raises at your direction as seonghwa calmly leans back into his chair with a-

HOLD ON WHY IS HE SMIRKING??????????

things are not supposed to go this way

he's supposed to be at least slightly irked by your behavior at this point

the amused smirk still plays on his lips and you were about to openly berate him for being a weird idiot before the waitress comes back with your drinks

at the sight of the bottle of beer and a tall glass set beside it on your table, you think of backing out

you absolutely HATE beer

but you don't want to marry a guy you just met!!!!!

so you sucked it up and gulped down the glass of beer after the waitress poured the alcohol in it to the brim

ggaAAH this shit tastes like piss

you slam the now empty glass on the table before letting out a loud aHHH~ as you smack your lips obnoxiously

and you feel the side of your lip twitch upwards when you see his surprised face

(ﾉ>ω<)ﾉ :｡･:*:･ﾟ’★,｡･:*:･ﾟ’☆ wooyoung's plan is wooooorking~!

"may i have a sip?"

record scratch. the earth stops rotating. pause.

"it's just, you make it look so delicious," seonghwa nods at the bottle before pushing down the cuffs of his grey suit and you swear you see his mirthful eyes twinkle when they meet your own gobsmacked ones

without waiting for an answer, he grabs the remaining beer in the bottle and lets the drink tip into his mouth as he knocks his head back to avoid touching his lips to the bottle

you kinda wish they did- AYYYOO?? U DID NOT THINK THAT NO U DIDN'T YOU DON'T FIND THIS MAN ATTRACTIVE AT ALL--

seonghwa lets out a rasped guttural sigh before he hums out, "now this is some nice beer." as he twirls the bottle in hands to look at its label before returning it back beside your glass

you do not find this man drinking alcohol attractive. you repeat, you do not find this man drinking alcohol attractive.

he sends another smirk your way

time to resort to the second half of the script

you rest your elbows on the table and lean closer to the man in front of you as your eyes narrow, "i've been told that i'm picky when it comes to who i date."

you wait for him to start spewing out random nonsense about some bullshit or the "nice guys always finish last" rant but he surprisingly stays silent and motions a hand for you to elaborate

"i don't want a man that expects me to cook or clean," you tilt your head back and give him a smirk of your own, "i'm not the type to stay home and cook for my husband. my career is more important."

he stays silent, and you can't help but feel a tad bit disappointed that maybe he's just like any other man-

"i like it."

ngl you almost went apeshit after hearing that

"my ideal type is an ambitious woman."

maybe your heart went pitter patter hearing that but no!!! you're not getting married!!!!

"i'll never want to have kids!" you grasp at straws, blindingly saying anything that will hopefully give him the ick because mhm yeah he definitely looks like a guy who want kids of his own yeah you got this

but he shrugs it off with a wave of his hand, "that's up to the woman, of course. i won't force you to do anything."

you're fucked.

"you're not as picky as i thought," seonghwa hums as another smirk, this time teasing, curls up on his face

you kinda want to smack it off

he matches your stance as he too, leans closer to you, and he tucks a stray hair behind your ear

"i guess we're pretty compatible, future wife."

jeong yunho

tonight is THE night

your finals are finally over and honestly you don't know if you did a good job at it

but that's for future yn to think about

because present yn is gonna go party it up tonight!!!!

yuh B-)

a new club just opened nearby and it looks pretty cool so you and your friends decided to go there

you have on your cutest outfit with your hair and makeup done

and you're sO excited !! >:-D

"y/n."

"hm?" you turn to face wooyoung, one of your best friends, who currently has his arms crossed and a serious look on his face

cue your cheeky grin and your not so innocent batting eyes

before every outings that involves drinking, wooyoung always gives you the talk because... well,,

one time, none of your friends couldn't find you anywhere in the club because you ended up in a nearby seafood restaurant with your whole face inside one of the aquariums (you don't know how you ended up there and yes it was gross and yes wooyoung had to pay for all the damages)

but the thing is, even though wooyoung threatens reminds you every single time before you drink to not get too crazy, it happens anyway

you don't know why he even bother

(he's handcuffed himself to you once and the night ended with both of his hands cuffed together while you were nowhere to be found)

so yeah aha

"you know the drill," wooyoung deadpans, "it's extra crowded tonight so i want you to be within my sight at all times."

that should be easy

you give him a mock salute, "got it, dad!"

you do feel bad for your friends who have to take care of you whenever you're drunk so you're gonna limit yourself to only 3 shots tonight

yeah you can do that !!! :-D

.........

turns out,,, you can't limit your insatiable drinking habits

you lost count over how many glasses you've had and oh my god wooyoung's gonna be so pissed!!!!

you don't even know where he is

you're just lazing around in between the swarm of bodies on the dance floor

you've gotten to the point where the high to dance waded off and now you just want to sit down and relax

and that's exactly what you were gonna do

until you accidentally stumbled out of the club

"woah!"

everything seems to fall into slow motion

next thing you know, you're engulfed into a pair of arms, your face crashing against a warm pair of tiddies chest that cushions your landing after you drunkenly fling yourself out of the club's exit

a pair of large and warm hands cup around your waist to steady you

your dazed eyes look up to see a man with sleepy doe eyes that blinks in surprise and soft chocolate hair that's slightly tousled

he looks adorable (this is you speaking)

and hot (this is your drunken alter ego speaking)

and you're pretty sure you're gaping like a fish

mom i want him

you wrap your previously flailing arms around his waist, unconsciously pulling him closer as you happily croon

"yooou look like myh future boyfriend!"

the handsome man in your embrace lets out a deep chuckle as amusement crosses his face before concern pools in his eyes once he belatedly realizes the state that you're in

if you weren't so drunk right now, you'd probably swoon over how respectful his hand placements are; his hands lift to linger above your waist as he tries to keep you steady-- not touching you but also making sure he'd be able to catch you in case you topple off him

the bare minimum but it's still cute ok

"hi," he softly greets and you have to bend your neck all the way up because tHIS MAN IS TALL just so you can continue staring at his face in awe

"you're sooo tall !!oof-" you drunkenly stumble more into him as you loudly remark on his height, gaining attention to the both of you

he protectively pulls you in just a little bit closer to him, eyes taking in the amount of iffy strangers that have their eyes lingering on you for too long

"do you know where your friends are?" he softly hums, gently brushing away the sweaty strands of hair that stuck to your face so he can look at you properly

yunho knows he can't leave you alone, not with how your eyes are drooping and your speech slurring even though he desperately wants to catch up on more sleep after he did a little snack run to the convenience store

and it's currently 4 hours before he has to wake up for his morning class :-(

he knows he'll regret not getting enough sleep for his class but,,,

he'll regret it even more if he just leave you all alone

"they're all inside!" you giggle while your finger points to the entrance of the club

a bout of chilly wind suddenly breezes past you and you shiver because oH NO you left your purse and coat in the lockers!!!!!-

a warm jacket that smells of vanilla and steamed milk suddenly sits atop your shoulders

"are you cold?" the boy in front of you frowns as he adjusts his grey jacket over your body, "you should call your friends and ask them to come get you."

you didn't even notice when he gently pried your arms off him so he can shrug off the jacket he's wearing to give to you

hE'S SO-

the boy yelps when a shoe is suddenly hurled in his direction and nearly whacks him in the face, "what the fu-"

"hEY !!!!!!!"

you both turn at the sound of the high pitched shriek to see a tiny boy with red hair and smoke coming out of his ears while holding a purse and two coats with one of his socked feet missing a shoe

"gET YOUR HANDS OFF THEM!" wooyoung dashes at you both with an inhuman speed and launches himself to grab you by the wrist and tuck you behind him

"sorry man," the kind stranger lifts both of his arms into the air to show that he means no harm, "i was trying to help them find their way back to their friends."

wooyoung's like oh when he turns back to see you nod in confirmation and his hostility diminishes in an instant

"oh thanks man :-D i guess you're cool :-D what's your name :-D ?"

"it's yunho."

"well, i'm y/n!! and this is my best friend oomph- wooyoung!!!!!!"

and wooyoung's like c'mon y/n we have to get you back to the dorms and you're like waIT A MINUTE I HAVE TO RETURN THIS JACKET-

"no it's okay you can keep it," yunho assures you with a shy smile

"you look better in it anyway."

he's so- ahaue@$#@3ahgru

"take out your phone." you hiccup and yunho shoots you a confused look but obeys anyway

"listen carefully," you cutely hiccup again with your hands on your waist and yunho has to stifle a laugh at your endearing antics, "i'm gonna recite my number for you."

at that, yunho's eyes comically widen and he fumbles to quickly pull up the phone app

"i'm listening!!!"

kang yeosang

when you ordered for an android that will help you around your apartment, you did not expect this

"delivery for y/n?"

you excitedly peer at the tall box that was wheeled in by the delivery man after thanking him

only faltering once you notice something odd

the label on the box reads KYS-1117

hmmmmmmm

you're sure that you made an order for PSH-1024, an android that's promised to be a clean freak and will keep your housing as neat as possible

pshhhh there's no way a highly renowned tech company that sells expensive androids could make a simple mistake like that right? :-D

yeah ! :-D

so you grab your exacto knife and get to the best part of receiving packages -- unboxing !!!!!

you excitedly dive into ripping the box apart, mindlessly flinging away the handbook that was neatly attached to it because how hard can it be to activate an android?

a very handsome android, it turns out

you peer through the glass window of the white pod that houses a blonde boy laying so peacefully you almost didn't want to wake him up

you fumble around and managed to press a button that lifts the lid of the pod, emanating trendils of mist to reveal a clearer vision of the boy with golden blonde hair, eyes closed as if in a deep sleep

"woah," you murmur, bringing your head closer to take a better look at the android. you somehow expected a normal looking one instead of an android who looks like he just won a beauty peagant but hey,,, you're not complaining :3

you crawl across your living room, grabbing the handbook you set aside and immediately flip open to the first page

how to turn on your android: a guide

aha! here we go

you reach out to poke around the android's neck to press on the disguised button to power him up, ignoring the flame scorching your cheeks at the thinning distance between you and his face

his eyelashes flutter as his eyes slowly open and falls on you as you back away from his personal space

you just kinda stay on your knees (not in that way!!!) in front of his pod, because well..... you don't know what to say to him.....

he's slowly blinking, seemingly fighting sleep, as he trains his gaze on you

this is awkward........ (〃￣ω￣〃ゞ

the silence stretches for another minute before the blonde beauty finally speaks

"There must be something wrong with my eyes."

"huh??" you panic, quickly turning back to the handbook in your hands and flipping the pages frantically. "what's wrong?? does it hurt??? maybe there's something about that in here--"

"... Because I can't take them off you."

:-D ....

you're ... gobsmacked

"uHHH ahhahahHHahHa, nice joke?????"

you really don't know what to say

he smiles, effectively blinding you because, holy shit, this man is too good looking to be an android cleaner wtf, and he gracefully steps out of his pod and crouches down in front of you to tuck your hair behind your ear WHAT IS HAPPENING

"What's your name, doll?"

d-d-doll ????

"uh,,,, it's y/n"

"It's nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm KYS-1117, you can call me Yeosang."

he flashes another charming smile and oop yeah that's all it takes

if you weren't kneeling on the floor, you'd probably pass out

but wait a minute,,,, did he say-

"huh,,,, they did get the order wrong," you mumble to yourself

you don't notice yeosang's face contorting in confusion

"Am I not to your liking?"

your eyes snap back to his warm brown eyes that flashes a hint of hurt before disappearing all too quick

oh no

you managed to hurt an android's feelings (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

"no no !!!! there's nothing wrong on your part !!" you vigorously shake both of your hands in front of you. "it's just,, i think they sent me.... uh, the wrong ..... android."

"Oh."

yeah...... oh

"Would you like me to contact our customer service? You'll be guaranteed to receive your correct order and compensation, of course."

yeosang lowers his head to face the floor while his voice falls flat; a stark contrast to the charismatic lilt he greeted with you previously

you don't need a degree in psychology to tell that he's visibly upset at the fact that you're gonna return him

it makes you feel worse because no !! this isn't your fault

and you can't ignore the fact that he looks absolutely human right now

okay, you do have to give props to the tech company who, despite messing up your order, did a good job at making their androids realistic

maybe a bit too good because,,, you're getting swayed by him rn

which is weird because aren't androids supposed to NOT have emotions?????

you sigh to yourself

"can you clean?"

the blonde snaps his head to look at you. "I'm sorry?"

woop here it goes

"i'm not returning you," you shrug. "i bet that's gonna take another 2 months to process and i don't see why i should do that when i have you."

you can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to process what you just said

you give him a small smile that you hope is comforting and that it somehow tells him that he's not going back to (you presume) a lab that's probably a hellhole

he perks up at your words, his body rocking back and forth as he excitedly informs you, "I'm not specifically programmed to be a cleaner android, but I can learn! I'm known to be a fast learner!"

"okay,,,,, that's settled then!" you happily reply

this is great, a win-win solution! maybe you should also ask yeosang to get compensation for the mistake they made without returning him

in that way,, you won't have to wait for ages to get another android and you get money !!!!!!

phew

"if you don't mind me asking, what are you specifically programmed to do?"

"Oh! I'm a boyfriend android!"

what did he SAY (o_O) !

bonus

... "yeosang,, why do you talk like that?"

"Ah. Is the way I talk not to your liking?"

you shake your head frantically, "no!! no!!!! it's nothing like that! just that you kinda talk like you use proper capitalization and punctuation all the time aha"

yeosang blinks

"Am I not supposed to?"

"no!!! it's perfectly fine,, i was just hoping you could be more relaxed around me :-D"

relax. yeosang tilts his head at that word

"I am. Relaxed."

you stare at him

his ramrod straight back against your couch, feet planted perfectly side by side on your floor and his hands placed politely on his lap

meanwhile, your figure sprawls messily on the spot next to him

"yeah,,,, okay"

choi san

you felt it once you stepped foot outside the 24 hours supermarket

that feeling of someone watching you

you try to quench it down, thinking that it's just paranoia creeping on you because it's almost 3 am and eerily dark outside

but then you hear it

footsteps.

not too loud, as if the person does not want to be heard, and you realize that their footfalls match yours

they're keeping up with your pace

you feel your heart rapidly race as you curse yourself for leaving your phone because it's charging back home

is it a good idea to run?

you discreetly turn your head to the side, seeing a man way bigger than you with his hood up in your peripheral vision

and his dark gaze straight on you

shit

you attempt your best at nonchalantly flicking your head back forward, hoping that he doesn't realize that you know that he's following you

the streets and sidewalk both remain empty, rows of closed shops greeting you instead of any taxis or people that could help you

you're completely on your own

you inwardly sigh, making a detour to head towards the main street because there's no way in hell you're leading this creep straight back to where you live and if you can be in a busier street, that would be much better

after walking for what felt like hours, you notice the unmistaken colorful lights that shine red, orange, and green from a convenience store's banner

omg

!!! a convenience store !!!!!!

you quickly pick up your pace, not caring over how the man behind you also start to fasten their steps, and you immediately swing open the glass door once your fingers grasp at the handle

your eyes fall to the cashier, a teenager, probably, who looks like he's not older than 18, and at the brink of dozing off into a deep sleep

tears prick your eyes as you feel the panic finally start to overwhelm you because you don't think this kid can do anything besides being scared with you if you drag him into this

but you kinda have no choice

as you step further inside the convenience store, ready to approach him, you notice a mop of messy raven hair near the cold drinks aisle

you feel the presence of the creepy man looming behind you, ready to step into the convenience store as well

you gulp, shivers running down your spine at the thought of being in a close proximity with the stalker

hell no

the cashier's way too close to the entrance

you need to move somewhere further away

you make a beeline for the raven haired boy at the back of the store grabbing two small sized cartons of milk, tightly lacing your arms around his side, your groceries in a bag swishing wildly against him as he looks at you in surprise

"hi, babe!" you loudly greet the stranger, making sure the man who just rang the bell atop the convenience store door as he enters heard you

you shoot wide eyed glances that hopefully screams 'help!' at your temporary pretend boyfriend

who happens to be very handsome btw

"i'm sorry i took so long, you must've been waiting for me," you continue, eyes roaming around the store and quickly spotting the man in front of the aisle you're both in, quietly listening on to your conversation. "the grocery store was so far away! i shouldn't have insisted on going out alone."

the boy you're latching onto must've gotten the memo (at speed record too!) as he quickly wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and he lets out a chuckle

"it's okay, baby. let me just pay for these, yeah? mingi and wooyoung are waiting for us in the car outside."

he purposefully raises his voice at the last sentence, making sure that the creep he noticed won't stop staring at you would understand that it'll be a 3 against 1 if he tries anything

gently tugging you by your waist to the other side of the store, away from the man's prying eyes, the boy takes you in with concern furrowing his brows

"are you okay?" he softly whispers, grasping the two cartons of milk in one hand as his other move from your waist to settle comfortingly on your shoulder to soothe you

"yeah," comes your shaky reply, eyes still glancing warily towards the front of the store. "just need to get him off me."

"do you want me to drive you home?" he asks, face quickly grimacing at his insensitivity and he scrambles to replace his offer. "ah, that probably sounds scary. do you want me to call you a cab instead?"

you thank the universe for gracing you with the kindness of this stranger

"sure, that sounds good."

you both finally arrive to the cashier after circling the store, waking up the cashier who begins to lazily ring up the boy's items

his arm wraps around your waist again once he notices the man lingering too close to the both of you and he quickly grabs his paid items after muttering a small 'thank you' before dashing out the door with you by his side

you look behind you, freezing when you see the man with his eyes still on you beyond the glass doors

"the passenger seat's empty, you can sit here first while waiting for your cab, if you want," the raven haired boy offers, opening the passenger seat door of the car parked right outside the store

you enter the car, letting the boy shut the door beside you as you settle down and try to calm your racing heart

"hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii !!!!!!-- uhmm, who are you?"

you turn to the backseat to see a redhead with a nosy expression, his limbs tangled with a blonde boy's own limbs who also sports the same expression, although his looks more confused than nosy

"some creep was following them on their way home," said the raven haired boy, already settling down on his own seat and shutting the door as you look over to the driver's side

"what?" an angry yell sounds from behind, the blonde seemingly trying to untangle himself from the redhead as he desperately tries to claw the car window. "that fucker!"

"mingi!" reprimands his friend in the driver's seat, his head shaking at his friend's antics and he looks at you with an apologetic look. "sorry about him, they both had a little too much to drink. i'm san, by the way"

"san," you repeat his name, and told him yours. "thank you for helping me back there."

"of course," san gives you a dimpled smile, pulling out a pack of mint chewing gum out of the plastic bag and offering it to you. "i heard chewing gum helps when you're nervous."

you must've been too focused on the man near you while he was paying that you didn't notice him grabbing it

and you know that you're not supposed to accept candy from a stranger but you kinda need it ok

"oh, thank you so much," you shyly thank him as you grab the pack. "you didn't have to."

"yeah, but i wanted to," he says, giving you another smile before grabbing the two cartons of milk and tossing them to his friends

"oUUUCH!!!!!! san you hit my head!!" the redhead wails, grabbing his head with both hands in dramaticized agony after the boxed milk bounces off his head while the blonde angrily yells that he does not want milk!!!!!!!

"a bunch of kids, both of you," san tiredly sighs and you almost giggle at his funny expression that resembles an exhausted dad dealing with his two rowdy toddlers

"drink the milk! you need to neutralize!"

"I DON'T WANT TO!!!!!!!"

"MINGI SHUT UP YOU'RE MAKING MY HEAD HURT EVEN MORE"

what a cute friend group

you ended up asking san to drive you home because somehow, you feel like you can trust him

(he drove you home safely with his two drunken friends singing 2000s hits all the way home and you both exchanged numbers)

song mingi

the biggest regret of your life is moving in to a shared apartment that was listed on craiglist

yeah.... you don't know what you were thinking

your roommate is literally a descendant from hell

and not in the cool sexy demon way

but in the 'i've made it my job to make your life a living hell' kinda way

besides the fact that:

a) she never cleans up after herself (whether it be dishes, laundry, or anything, really) and,

b) she acts like you're the bane of her existence,,,

it feels like she has a guy over every night

and honestly, you have no qualms about her getting dicked down because good for her

but the walls are PAPER THIN

you really wonder how she never got a noise complaint over how loud she is

and you have to applaud her for her stamina because they would go for hoouuurs and you'd end up watching the sun rise without getting a wink of sleep everytime

it's gotten to the point where your friends are concerned because you'd show up to class or hangouts with eyebags and a murderous look on your face

your sleep schedule is so messed up

you'd do all your assignments during the night with your headphones in, go to classes during the day, then pass out right after your classes end

all of your friends are kinda on edge around you because they're scared you're gonna Snap™ one day lmao

anyways, you were just chilling one night with your headphones in (which you immediately put on after hearing the unmistakable high pitched noises coming from your roommate's room), waiting for it to be 8 am so you can go to your morning class

when your laptop suddenly lost connection to your wifi

and you hate working on your google docs offline !!!! >:-(

so you forced yourself to get up and go to the living room to see what's going on with your wifi router

only to find a butt naked man hovering over it

eeEEK

"what the fuck!!!" you scream, grabbing the nearest thing to you (a throw pillow on the couch) and launching it on the stranger who's very much naked in your living room

"what--" the man cries out, looking back to see you with your eyes closed just as the pillow bounces off his head. "who the fuck are you??"

you wish you kept your eyes open just to let him see your eyeroll but you quickly scratch that thought because you really don't want to see a stranger's dick at 7 in the morning

your nostrils flare at the nerve of whoever this guy is at your apartment

"excuse me??? who the fuck are you?"

turns out, his name is mingi, and you came to know of it after he got appropriately dressed, turned on and off your wifi router, and sat down across you to enjoy his breakfast that you made

you also came to learn that he's the one who made your roommate sound like a literal pornstar last night

"so, uhh.." the blonde awkwardly starts, gripping his cutlery as he pathetically tries to strike up a conversation while you're busy wolfing down your breakfast. "you cook often?"

the simple question turns into a long conversation that you surprisingly find yourself enjoying

not only is he super cute,,,, but he's also so fun to tease

you move to clear away both of your plates and mingi looks up to you in awe, "that was the best breakfast i've ever had."

you smile, "sure, and that will be $53."

"huh?"

your raise a brow, "you think i'm giving you free breakfast?"

you laugh when you see him scramble to pull out his phone and ask you for your venmo

"dude, i was just kidding," you reassure him, "but please give me a heads up if you're coming over to fuck my roommate again. i couldn't get a wink of sleep last night."

mingi turns a bright shade of red

jung wooyoung

you can't believe it

never in your life would you think you'd be a witness to MURDER

you were just calmly walking back home after meeting up with your friends when you spot a guy with both of his arms pointed to the sky

you had a "little bit" of soju during your monthly bbq hangouts with your friends, so your tipsy self took some time to openly judge and even snort at the stupid looking stranger

that is until, a golden bow materialises into his hold

what in the hunger games lmao

.... you scratch your eyes, hoping to clear your vision

his right hand reaches into the air again, seemingly pulling out two golden arrows with their tips dipped in crimson out of nowhere

wtf did someone lace your soju

and then he nocks them, one above the other, and draws the string back

is he about to shoot someone??????

he releases the arrows in the direction of two people conversing with each other in a playground's swing set not too far away from you and-- holy sHIT HE'S SHOOTING TWO PEOPLE AT ONCE

you hear the wind rip as the arrows zips through the air before embedding deep into the unsuspecting targets' chests

it took point three seconds for you to realize what the suspicscious man did

and that's when you scream

very loudly

but wait a minute

......... there's nothing

there's no blood, no dead bodies dropping to the floor, and the arrows that struck their chests somehow vanished into thin air

in fact, the two people he shot looks happier now

that's weird

but you continue to scream anyway

the boy whips his head to see you; a little tipsy and screaming your head off, and when your eyes lock with one another, his eyes go impossibly wider

he swiftly dashes off into your direction after carelessly throwing his bow into the air and wait,,,, did the bow just dissappear??? it was right there--

a hand suddenly clamps over your mouth

"stop screaming."

.................

you proceed to scream even louder

the boy lets out an annoyed grunt, somehow dragging you into an alley with his hand still clamped over your mouth and the other gripping the back of your head tightly

"look i need you to calm down, okay?" he lets out a huff, nervous hands running through his red hair -- a detail you just noticed with the moonlight shining on him

you finally stop screaming and he immedieately sighs in relief, loosening his grip on you

you take a good look at him

he's beautiful

"thank you," the boy nonchalantly replies, too distracted with looking out the alley to make sure no one saw you struggling against a body of air into an alley. "just to be clear, i didn't kill them okay? they're perfectly fine"

but you're not even listening to him

"you can read my mind?!"

"yes i can but that's not the point," the redhead squints. "i need you to understand that i didn't kill them and that you're not supposed to be able to see me"

you swallow

this guy might be cute but,,,,, you definitely wouldn't risk it because he's weird weird

"umm okay, mr. i'm-not-a-murderer,, what else would you be doing with a bow and arrow besides killing someone??? running your cupid errands or something haha????"

he knocks his head to the side, taking quick steps to near you that has you pinned against the wall as his eyes rake over you in scrutiny

"who sent you?"

pffft LMAOOO ｡ﾟ(TヮT)

"what are you on???" you breathe, having to take in a large gulp of air after literally laughing your ass off because of how ridicilous he sounds

there's an offended tick to the boy's brow, his stare drilling at you

you wipe tears from your eyes, "you're saying you're the cupid? or eros? or uh,,, whatever his name is"

the boy rolls his eyes, placing his hands in the pockets of his pants as he moves to lean against the brick wall beside you. "yeah,, cupid or eros works. but i prefer wooyoung."

your jaw slackens. this guy can't be serious

"okay, wooyoung. how do i know you're not lying?"

the same golden bow you saw earlier materializes in front of you out of nowhere, its grip in a firm grasp within wooyoung's hand

huh,,,, seems pretty legit

mhm okay you're sold, you guess you can tick off meeting someone supernatural off your bucketlist!

wooyoung chuckles, he must've read your mind again, and he turns to look at you at his side, mouth still gaping in awe at his glowing bow

"glad you finally believe i'm real," he smugly grins, flinging his bow to the side where it magically vanishes in mid-air

"although, you're really not supposed to be able to see me. you're the first mortal to ever do so."

you see curiosity lighting up his eyes but you also see something else

relief

"you're the first mortal to ever do so."

he probably has uh godly friends up there but,, you can't imagine how lonely it must feel to walk on earth without anyone acknowledging you,,,, as if you don't exist

everyone should have someone around!!! D-:

"let's be friends!"

"what?" his eyes fall back to its usual indifferent gaze, this time, with a tinge of nervousness. "i don't even know your name, how are we supposed to be friends??"

"hush, i know you know my name from the beginning. you probably read it off my mind," (you're right), "now come on! you have to show me some more of your katniss everdeen side!!"

"katnip what??" he yelps in disbelief, figure remaining still despite the incessant tugs on his wrist by your attempt of pulling him out of the alley

"and i don't need friends!"

he was about to go off more about how people would think you're batshit crazy because they won't be able to see him and- oop his back is off the wall now, yeap he's moving out the alley with you successfully pulling him

"yes you do!" you turn to look at him and made a stop once you both are out of the alley, a grin makes it way on your face. "i can't believe it!!!! i'm cupid's first friend!!!"

a faint smile almost places itself on wooyoung's face because hey, being friends with you doesn't seem too bad

but he tramples it down with all his might, rolling his eyes and letting out a huff instead

"just follow me and keep your mouth shut."

guess he's stuck with you then

(he's a little bit happy about that. just a little.)

choi jongho

you knew you should've trusted your gut feeling on not going to the frat party

“but ynnnnnnnn,” one of your best friends, yuna, whines, “it’s been forever since you partied with us!!! just this one time please please !!!!!”

and you being the easily moved person you are reluctantly agreed after some more convincing

“don’t worry babe,” ryujin, another one of your best friends, reassures you while applying lip gloss in her vanity, “i’ll personally kick your ex’s ass if he tries anything on you.”

right, your ex

he’s the prime reason why you would not step foot in any more college parties because trust yourself when you say that he will be in every available party

but you know what

you’re kinda siCK of that !!!

so even though your ex is borderline crazy and threatens you to get back together even if you don’t want to

you’re gonna go to the party :-D

with your five besties protecting you

<333

“let’s go!!!” chaeryeong whoops with her head out the opened car window as yeji, the designated driver of the night, parks the car in front of the already blaring frat house

“now girls,” lia starts, “make sure your phones are always on okay?? and make sure at least one of us knows where you are—”

she’s interrupted by the door slamming open and oh yup there they go—

ryujin, chaeryeong, and yuna are already sprinting across the lawn to get to the house

you all exchange looks as lia lets out a sigh

it’s gonna be a long night

turns out, it’s gonna be an even longer night

specifically just for you

you were just in the kitchen trying to pour some vodka into your red solo cup when you lock eyes with him

your ex, stood in front of the opened fridge

woops what, vodka?? yeah i don’t need that because i’m getting outta here bye

“y/n, wait.”

you briskly walk to the living room slash dance floor with your eyes desperately trying to find your fiery friend who promised to kick the ass of the man currently following you as he tries to call after you

to no avail

you’re kIND of panicking now!!!!!

just then, a figurative lightbulb flickers above your head when your eyes land on a guy with dark brown hair with a cup of his own perched on a corner alone

you’re hoping this works

you practically sprint to him and he looks like his heart is about to pop off his chest at the sight of someone barrelling towards him at full speed

“i’m so sorry but i have a crazy ex who’s following me literally right now so can you please be my boyfriend for like 5 seconds?”

the words jumbled out of you in a haste— too quick for jongho to catch anything else besides ‘crazy ex’ and ‘be my boyfriend’ but he knows from your panicked eyes that you’re asking for help

and of course he will

jongho’s eyes scan around the living room, finally seeing the guy who he can tell is your ex by the determined steps he’s taking towards you along with his eyes set on you

ok yeah jongho agrees with you

because damn this guy does look like he’s crazy

he figures there’s nothing to lose

“yeah, sure.”

jongho expects you to probably just linger near him in hopes of your ex leaving or maybe he’d have to play the role of the protective “boyfriend” by landing a punch on your ex if he tries to pick on a fight

what he didn’t expect was your lips meeting his own

if jongho is an android, the wires in his head would've short circuit 

your arms move to wrap at the back of his neck and you slightly tip toe so you can reach him better

he almost faltered on the kiss because he finds that so cute 

only after you initiated the touch does he place his hands on your waist to pull you even closer as he surprisingly deepens the kiss into a sweet kiss

his soft lips slowly guide you into a slower tempo, smoothly taking charge by moving a hand to softly grasp your cheek while the other rubs comforting circles on your exposed waist 

YOU’RE TRYING SO HARD NOT TO BLUSH

“what the fuck– get off my girl man!”

you’re forcefully separated from the boy with a breathless gasp as your ex pins him against the wall

despite your ex shouting obscenities at him with a hand wrapped on the collar of his shirt, the brunette doesn’t look scared at all

in fact, he kinda looks bored

his eyes lazily rake over your ex and he indignantly smirks before letting out a deep chuckle that silences the boy in front of him

“how pathetic.”

his big shoulders effortlessly knocks your ex to the side as he shoots a glare at him

this time, he’s the one standing in front of your ex with his intimidatingly large figure towering over him

“if you ever touch her or even fucking try to look at her, i’ll make sure to let everyone in this house know to beat the shit out of you whenever we see you.”

that’s when realization seeps into your ex and his body immediately froze

“oh shit, jongho, i-i’m sorry man,” your ex stammers, silently cursing himself for blindly messing with one of the frat members in their own party, “i didn’t know that she’s yours.”

“she’s not a thing you can own,” jongho rolls his eyes, roughly pushing your ex off the wall and harshly slapping his hand on his back to force him towards the door’s direction, “now get out of here.”

as your ex scrambles out the door, you turn to face jongho with your head slightly muddled by the fact that 

a) you kissed a frat boy

b) he’s hot

c) oh and have you mentioned that he’s hot?

“you good?”

you scramble out of your thoughts to see him looking over you carefully, “yeah…. thank you for that.”

a gummy smile lights up his face and you’re kinda confused because this guy does not resemble the intimidation he showed earlier at all, “no problem.” 

ok go off duality king

“wanna get out of here?”

this is the first time you met a frat boy who’s not really interested in the party he’s in

but you like that :-D

you smile, “sounds good.”

[sp1der-w3bs]

Bull-hybrid x farm owner reader

This probe rally could have been smut if I wasn't so scared to write it

You push the barn doors open with a gentle creak, the morning sun flooding the musky place with a golden glow. The familiar sounds of your farm waking up greet you—cows lowing, birds chirping, and the faint hum of the wind through the fields. But one sound stands out, as always: a deep, cocky chuckle coming from the other side of the barn.

"Hello darlin' ," teasing voice drawls. "And here I was thinking you'd sleep in today, give us a break."

You roll your eyes before you even turn to face him. "In your dreams, You've got work to do, maybe u can sleep in on the weekend if your good."

There, leaning against the side of one of the stalls, is your bull hybrid. He's tall, with strong, muscular limbs, his thighs are thicker then ur waist, his horns curling back from his head. His tail swishes lazily behind him as he grins at you, showing off his perfect, cocky smirk.

"So what's on today's schedule?" He steps closer, his heavy hooves smashing down on the barn floor. "Because right now it seems like you just came out here to admire me?" He says smirks, as he poses for you, flexing his muscles.

You snort. "You wish. Now, are you going to help me or just stand there looking pretty?"

He laughs again, a deep rumble that never fails to send a shiver down your spine, though you’d never admit it. "I’m good at both, but if you insist, Boss."

As much as he likes to tease, is a hard worker, and it's fucking hot to watch. His muscular body, nearly covered and glistening in a thick coat of sweat. He strides across the barn, grabbing a heavy bag of feed with ease, his muscles flexing as he lifts it onto his shoulder like it weighs nothing. It’s a sight you’ve grown used to... sort of. No matter how many times you see him working the farm, his strength and confidence still have a way of drawing your attention. And he KNOWS it.

He shoots a glance back at you, catching you staring. "Like what you see?" His grin widens. "Don’t worry, darlin' you’re not the first to fall for the charms of a bull."

"Get over yourself," you huff, grabbing a bag of feed for yourself, even though it’s half the size of the one he’s carrying. If you were horney enough you think you could come from just watching him throw things twice your side around like they were nothing.

But as you walk past him to start on the far side of the barn, he moves quickly, blocking your path. His large frame casts a shadow over you, and you can feel the heat radiating off him in the blistering morning sun.

"You know," he says, his massive frame hoovering over you in a way that's makes your panties dampen, "you’re a tough woman, but I can’t help but think... You think about me in a way... Not work appropriate. Do you get of on watching me work?"

Your heart skips a beat, your face flushing bright red, and you curse internally at how easily he gets under your skin. His bronz eyes lock onto yours, full of playful mischief and something... more. It’s the same teasing dance you two have been doing for months now, ever since you hired him on the farm. At first, you’d chalked it up to him being overly confident, he doesn't want you, at least not in the way you want him. It's his personality you tell yourself, even when his boner is blatantly obvious.

"Seriously," you say, though your voice isn’t as steady as you’d like. "Move"

He steps back, but not before he flashes you another grin. "As you wish, Darlin'. But don’t pretend you don’t enjoy our little... Games."

With a swish of his tail, he heads back to his work, leaving you flustered and, as usual, trying to regain your crumbled composure.

Throughout the day, you fall into a rhythm. The flirtation is constant—whether he’s making innuendos about your "authority" or taking a firm grab at your ass every now and again. But he gets his tasks done, and at the end of the day, when the sun starts to dip low on the horizon, you both find yourselves back in the barn, finishing up the last of the chores.

You’re stacking bales of hay when he approaches again, wiping the sweat from his brow, his body glistening with sweat and dirt. He uses his strong body to pin yours, the rough hey scratching at yuor back.

"You know," he starts, his voice lower than usual, "I don’t play with just anyone. You’re VERY special, Darlin'" His voice gets quiter at the end as his calloused hands glide over you body.

Before you have time for a response he leans down, lips catching slightly on your cheek as his breath hits your neck "see you tomorrow darlin"

[dvrk-moon]

ENHYPEN OT7 ; 엔하이픈

PLAYING MINECRAFT WITH THEM

requested : no

genre : crack, fluff

pairing : enhypen x reader (can be platonic)

warnings : cursing + the members being menaces

heeseung ; 희승

absolute sweat

like speed runner esque

nags on you for being too slow and making him have a speed run time of over fifteen minutes

like you’re barely getting an oak log and he’s already in the nether. like u turn away for two seconds and he’s already built the portal

“heeseung where did you go” “i’ve almost killed the wither wait” … “CAN U CHILL OUT WE JUST CREATED THIS WORLD”

so u thought u were gonna have fun hanging out with heeseung on minecraft? NO

because as soon as he finishes his speed run and you finally got your first diamond, he’s decided to build a base

and u thought he was gonna be all cute and make u a room awwww!!! no.

he does make u a room, but the stairway up to ur room is a parkour course

(when the fuck did he have time to even make that?!!?!!)

first and last time playing minecraft with him

jay ; 제이

absolute knight in shining armor

literally

those mobs have nothing on his iron drip

protects u even if u don’t need it

“oh shit there’s a creeper” “ON MY WAY Y/N”

his netherite sword is CRACKED. like perfect enchantments

when he’s not protecting u he becomes ur farmer

the farm is so organized and beautiful jay is literally my husband pls

does in fact laugh when u die tho

like he’ll collect your stuff for you but the second he sees “[your gamertag] fell from a high place” he’s going to laugh for like two minutes straight

also he keeps an extra chest in his room for u

like in case u need something OR u die and he’s not able to collect ur stuff so it despawns

jay is so husband. even in minecraft

jake ; 제이크

he’s played before ok (trust him)

(it was when he was like nine)

like he’s very very. bad

he’s trying tho!!!

keeps dying. like every two minutes you see “jake_awesome2002 was blown up by a creeper”

he does not know how to change his gamertag so ur just stuck playing with jake_awesome2002

he starts getting the hang of it and immediately thinks he’s cracked at the game (he’s not)

so he disappears from you out of nowhere and so you try to help him :

“jake where are you” … “jake” … “jake sim where the fuck are you” …………. “i don’t know”

(cue “jake_awesome2002 fell out of the world”)

“JAKE HOW DID YOU FALL OUT OF THE WORLD” “I DONT KNOW”

he respawns and like sulks for three minutes before leaving and collecting dirt(?) for some reason

coincidentally you keep finding dirt blocks placed throughout your base afterwards! how silly of him!

sunghoon ; 성훈

he was so ready to show u how good he is

he’s not very good. but at least he’s better than jake!

he somehow is always in a cave or some sort of dangerous location

like say u found a village and you’re like “sunghoon come raid this village with me!”

meanwhile he’s trying not to die because of a pillager outpost

somehow he doesn’t?

he’ll go and do stuff like that or spend days in the nether and survive but his weakness is witches

like he doesn’t scream UNLESS there is a witch

and if you’re nearby ? he will 100% sacrifice you to the witch so that he can survive

womp womp

he actually sacrifices you quite a bit because he has like 36 levels

he thinks he’s funny when he does it too

sunoo ; 선우

honestly prefers to play in creative mode (me too sunoo)

but when you were like “let’s play in survival for once” he’s like “fiiiiiiiiinneeeeeuhhhh” (very dramatic about it)

he immediately builds a forever base when you spawn in

makes you do all the mining and stuff

he will tag along! but he won’t do shit

he’s the interior designer. he’s got bigger and better things to do

he only redeems himself when you go into the base and find your minecraft beds right next to each other

besides holding the house down, he also has an extremely high scale and successful farming system

so if you ever check in his chests, 100% you will find like 20 stacks of wood, stacks of wheat, of carrots, of beets, etc.

may be a homebody in minecraft but at least he’s fun to play with !!!! 10/10 would recommend to a friend

jungwon ; 정원

the miner

like you’re trying to get along with your day until jungwon stops and drops into the smallest cave ever

“what are u doing” “wait y/n we might need this copper” “jungwon don’t u already have like three stacks of copper” “yeah but we might need it”

lots of time spent mining

u eat your words tho when he is decked out in diamond armor from almost the get-go

when you guys build a base it HAS to have a little mine under the house (little as in huge)

somehow has like ten dogs?

“this one is maeumi, this one is maeumi’s friend, this once can be gaeul… maybe this one can be layla? oh! and this one is maeumi’s other friend. this one is bisco. this one is yours but you don’t get to name it. i will name it for you.”

they would be cats if it was really up to you but you’ll live

also refuses to elaborate on this thing he does

he makes tons and tons of signs and just places them around the base

some of them make sense and others just don’t at all

has a 2x2 fenced in area and the sign outside of it says “jail”

has anyone ever been sent to jail there? no. but as jungwon says “just in case”

riki ; 니키

possibly the worst yet most fun person to play with

at first you’re like “let’s play together” and he’s like “yeah sure whatever” but little do u know he has every plan in the world to turn the game into warfare

it’s even worse if you are playing on a realm rather than just a server

he abandons you from the get-go and immediately runs away and you can’t catch him so he builds a base far away from you

the base is in fact a dirt house

but it’s minecraft who said he had to be an architect

yes he abandoned you and is regularly attacking you at any given chance but he still keeps his tabs on where you are

walks all over your farm and kills your livestock

leaves signs saying “riki was here” “get rikrolled”

since he keeps tabs on you, u have to be very cautious of what you leave in your chests

he will steal anything. just for fun

threatens to blow up everything because he just wants to

little does he know if he wants warfare ur gonna give him warfare

a/n : this is random but i played mc like two days ago and i thought this could be a silly idea

[sixosix]

hii, been a while since I've been on tumblr now and i came just in time for ur event 😭 also i realised thawed has gotten a lot of updates and im SOO happy because now i can binge ‼️ can i request lyney and 'eyeliner' for the event :33

also congrats on hitting 5k, and a happy bday in advance to the lyney writer EVER i came back and reread sleight of hand immediately sorry that is exactly the kind of person i am (sixosix writing consumer and injector (what is that)) 💗💗

you are so SWEET thank you so much!!! im sorry i took so long to get to ur req but i hope u see this and like it!! <3

warning ?? wc 500, this is so stupid but a little bit of possessiveness(?) and its very intimate looool

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

You cradled Lyney’s chin gently, tilting his head upward. His breath hitched, but he didn’t move as you instructed. The ink for this eyeliner was the type that was really hard to rub off, and he had a show in about ten minutes.

It was a little distracting—Lyney’s eyelids fluttered, restless, as if his pupils were still tracing your every move even with them closed. You cursed, willing your hands to stop trembling.

“You okay?” Lyney murmured, his breath hot on your face.

“Mm. Hold on,” you whispered, flicking your fingers and crafting a precise line. As the ink glistened freshly, you gently blew on his eyes, cooling the area with a light breeze. His lips curved into a smile as he held onto your waist. “Open.”

His eyes looked sharper with eyeliner, but you’d shudder under his gaze even without them. Up close, however, it was easy to get distracted by how the purple of his eyes sparkled, looking at you as if you were all he could see. Well, with you all but straddling his lap, maybe that really was the case.

You wriggled off, but Lyney’s hand never left your waist, even as you reached for a hand mirror. Lyney only glanced before grinning up at you.

“Perfect as always,” Lyney praised, pulling you down to press a kiss on your chin. 

You laughed and halfheartedly pushed him off. “Don’t mess up my hard work.”

“I’m also putting makeup on you,” Lyney argued, pushing on your neck until your noses are touching. “Don’t move.”

He reached for the eyeliner in your hand, examined it curiously, and then looked at your face. How was it fair that he looked so good under the harsh spotlight and in the dim lighting backstage?

“Do you know how?” you asked.

“I don’t need to,” he said, yet pointed the tip on your neck.

Confused, you bared your skin to avoid getting the ink on your clothes. The waterproof, smudge-proof formula was no joke. Lyney had this dangerous glint in his eyes as the brush made contact with your neck—it was cold on your skin, in contrast to Lyney’s warm hand holding your face, but you held in a shiver to not disrupt him.

He seemed to be drawing shapes and long lines. It was hard to see even with the mirror behind Lyney, with his head blocking the view, but seeing how close you two were felt so intimate. You squirmed, darting your gaze to anywhere but how Lyney’s eyes were zeroed in on your neck.

“There,” Lyney whispered.

He slid out of the way for you to check his masterpiece, your neck bared to the mirror and having a perfect view of Lyney’s signature inked on your skin. You found yourself laughing at Lyney’s proud smile. 

“Idiot,” you reprimanded, but was feeling so flustered. “Don’t look so proud.”

Lyney whistled lowly, and his grin spread over his face. “Well, look at the time. We can’t do anything about that right now—I’ll see you after the show?”