unreliable writer

she/her | ao3 author ForgivenessLost | INFJ | inner rage

[chooppi]

10. LOVERBOY - YOU BRING ME HOME

NINE | MASTERLIST | ELEVEN

PAIRING: streamer!choso x f!reader

SYNOPSIS: kamo choso is a famous streamer who doesn’t seem to care about anything, but when you suddenly start reaching out and gojo satoru is determined to get you two together, he finally finds something to care about.

TAG LIST: @getfroggy1360 @jelxqa @randiiii @himezoro @squishytap @wingstoyourdreams @catalinasroom @azafloop @ratgeneralarmageddon @d011yyxx @zeeweeza @wqsrs @catsannie @leonkennedyscums1ut @tojirin @90s-belladonna @dementedlover666 @skye209sblog @azeral-dreams @itoshigf @jayathelostdragon @iamarealmicrowave @laitifly @choso-loverrr @inkhoee @cruziival72 @staygoldsquatchling02 @satorupied @junghoonbooty @cookispark @giseelles

[fushilov]

°.ೃ ࿔*ꜱᴘʀɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴠᴇ*.ೃ࿔°

megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pinining, miscommunication, yearning, oblivious idiots in love, heavy on the flower/nature symbolism.

word count: 12k

a/n: this was so stinkin' cute i almost got heartburn when proofreading. also yes it's a bit corny at times don't hate me.

Megumi sat alone on the concrete steps outside the dorms, elbows resting on his knees as the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the courtyard. The sounds of laughter drifted through the air, mixing with the distant chatter of students heading home. His eyes followed you without meaning to.

You were standing beside Yuji, laughing at something he'd said. Megumi couldn't hear the joke, but it didn't matter. What caught his attention was the way your smile seemed effortless around him, the way Yuji always managed to make you laugh. Watching the two of you together made something uncomfortable twist in his chest.

Yuji was easy to talk to, funny, and friendly. The kind of person people naturally gravitated toward. Meanwhile, Megumi struggled to hold conversations longer than a few minutes before retreating back into silence. His gaze dropped to the ground, wondering what it would be like if you looked at him that way. If you sought him out, if he could make you laugh without overthinking every word that came out of his mouth.

Maybe if he had the courage to tell you how he felt, if he were funnier, or if he were better at being someone people wanted to be around. Maybe then you'd see him.

A few feet away, your conversation with Yuji finally came to an end. You had originally planned to spend the afternoon with him but, "Sorry," Yuji had said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I completely forgot. Choso's been bugging me about hanging out all week." You laughed it off and told him not to worry about it, but now you found yourself standing alone with nothing to do.

Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts absentmindedly. Most of the names passed by without much thought until your thumb paused over one in particular. Megumi Fushiguro. You stared at the name for a moment.

You wouldn't exactly call the two of you close friends. Megumi was quiet, sometimes so quiet it was hard to tell what he was thinking. But whenever you talked to him, there was something oddly comforting about his presence. He listened when people spoke, he was dependable, kind even if he wasn't very expressive about it.

You realized you'd never actually tried spending time with him one on one before. Maybe he'd say no or leave you on read. Still, it couldn't hurt to ask. A small smile tugged at your lips as you opened your messages and began typing.

hii megumi, how are youu?

He was thinking of walking back to his dorm when you sent your message. Megumi stared at his phone, thumb hovering over the screen. For a moment, he wondered if he'd imagined the notification. Your name sat at the top of the lockscreen, bright and impossible to ignore. His pulse quickened. Why were you texting him? 

He opened the message, reading it once. Then twice. Then a third time just to make sure he wasn't somehow misinterpreting it. A dozen possible responses flashed through his mind. 

His fingers moved across the keyboard before stopping. He deleted the entire message, tried again. After nearly a minute of overthinking, he finally settled on something simple.

Fine. You?

A few seconds passed before another message appeared.

Did you need something?

The second message sounded colder than he'd intended, but it was already sent before he could stop himself. Megumi groaned quietly and dragged a hand down his face. Nice job. Real smooth.

When your phone buzzed, you glanced down at the response. Your lips flattened slightly. It wasn't exactly enthusiastic. Then again, it was Megumi. Most of the time, getting more than a few words out of him felt like an accomplishment. 

i'm gooddd thanks for asking :)

You sent the first message without much thought. The next one was harder. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard. You weren't even sure why you felt nervous, it was only Megumi. Still, a strange sense of embarrassment crept up your neck as you typed.

i just wanted to know if you maybe wanted to hang out with me?

The moment you hit send, regret flooded your system. Too direct. Way too direct. Before you could overthink yourself into oblivion, you hurriedly typed another message.

if you're busy that's fine tho!!

You turned off your phone and buried your face in your hands. Why did I say it like that?

Megumi's phone vibrated again. Then again. His eyes widened as he read the messages. His brain completely stalled. You wanted to hang out with him. Not Yuji. Not Nobara. Him.

A sharp breath caught in his throat. For a second, he genuinely wondered if this was some kind of prank. Maybe you meant to text someone else. Maybe you were inviting a group and just hadn't mentioned it yet. But the words were right there.

His heart hammered so hard he could feel it in his ears. The logical part of his brain was already screaming at him to respond before you thought he was ignoring you. The problem was that every response sounded stupid. Megumi deleted the same message at least six times.

Meanwhile, the little ‘typing…’ bubble still hadn't appeared on your screen. Because Megumi Fushiguro was currently having the biggest crisis of his life over a simple invitation to hang out. After what seemed like the most torturous 5 minutes of his life, he finally perfected his response.

Sure. When?

Your eyes lit up. No way THE Megumi Fushiguro just decided to hang out with you, didn't even have to force him. Is luck on your side? 

yay! can you meet up with me now?

It was really happening. He was actually, truly, really going to spend time with you. Megumi typed, his fingers shaking so much he kept hitting the wrong keys. He finally sent:

Yeah. Where?

Your response was sent almost immediately.

i was just thinking to go on a walk and we can just see what to do from there :)

That works.

The response was short, but for Megumi, that was practically enthusiasm.

Before he could overthink anything else, he pushed himself off the dorm steps. A little too quickly. His foot caught on the edge of the pavement, and he stumbled forward, barely catching himself. "Seriously..." he muttered under his breath. Checking his reflection in his phone screen, then shoved it in his pocket. He started walking before he finished typing: "On my way." His steps were fast, uneven, almost a jog. 

While you waited for Megumi to arrive, you wandered over to a vending machine near the edge of campus. The machine hummed softly as you scanned the rows of drinks behind the glass. You paused. You had absolutely no idea what Megumi liked. Actually, now that you thought about it, you didn't know much about his preferences at all. After a moment of consideration, you picked two bottles of passion fruit juice, one for yourself and one for him. If he didn't like it, at least you'd tried. The machine rattled loudly before dropping the drinks into the tray below. You grabbed them and leaned against the nearby wall, checking your phone while you waited.

 Megumi walked down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets. As he turned the corner, he caught sight of you, standing next to the vending machine. His pulse quickened. When your gaze flickered over him, Megumi realized he'd been standing there frozen, staring. "Hey..." He straightened up. You smiled warmly at the sight of him, “Hii Megumii, it's good to see you!” You said while handing him one of the drinks, "I didn't know what you like so I just got these. I hope you like it.”

Megumi blinked at the drink, then at you. The sweetness of your smile hit him like a spell he wasn’t prepared for. "Thanks."  He took the bottle, fingers brushing yours, just for a second, and quickly looked away. “Of course, anytime.” You opened your bottle and took a sip, the flavor of the juice was so refreshing, a good balance between sweet and acidic. He watched you drink. How your eyes lit up. The way your throat moved when you swallowed. He wanted to look away, to focus on something else, to get these thoughts out of his head, but it was impossible. The plastic was still cool in his hand. "Passion fruit…” He said quietly. “I've never tried it."  

Your eyes widened. "Really? It's one of my favorite flavors." The excitement in your voice made something twist pleasantly in his chest. You pointed toward the bottle. "Try it and tell me if you like it."

He nodded then unscrewed the cap, raised the bottle to his lips and took a cautious sip. The flavor exploded across his taste buds. He took another sip without thinking, and another. It was better than he'd thought it would be. "It’s...good," he said, a little embarrassed that he'd practically gulped it down.

You couldn't help laughing. A soft sound that made his heart skip embarrassingly hard. "I'm glad you like it." Your gaze flickered to the nearly half-empty bottle. "If you want more, you can just have mine." Megumi hesitated and shook his head.  "No—I'm alright," he said quickly.

“C’mon let’s go on our walk.” You stepped forward first. Megumi watched you for half a second before following, his longer strides quickly closed the distance between you. The afternoon breeze drifted through the trees overhead, carrying the scent of fresh grass and distant flowers. For a while, neither of you spoke. Megumi kept his gaze ahead, occasionally sneaking glances in your direction whenever he thought you weren't looking. 

The two of you continued down the winding path, your footsteps falling into an easy rhythm. To your surprise, the silence wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as you'd expected. Megumi wasn't much of a talker, that much was obvious, but somehow it worked. The occasional rustle of leaves overhead filled the gaps between conversations. Birds called from distant trees. The soft crunch of gravel beneath your shoes became its own kind of background music. It felt peaceful, comfortable, the kind of quiet that didn't demand to be filled. You took another sip of your juice and tilted your head toward the horizon.

"This is the perfect time to go on a walk." Megumi glanced over. "The sun's going down, and it makes the sky look so pretty." His eyes followed your gaze. The evening sky stretched endlessly above the campus grounds. Gold melted into orange, which faded into soft shades of pink and purple, wispy clouds caught the sunlight like brushstrokes across a canvas. It really was beautiful. But as Megumi looked at the sunset, his attention drifted. Back to you. The warm light painted everything in gold. Your hair, your eyes, the curve of your smile. For a moment, he forgot about the sky entirely. A thought appeared before he could stop it.

‘You're prettier than the sun.’

The realization made his stomach twist. Megumi immediately looked away. Heat crept up the back of his neck. He wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or guilty for thinking something so cheesy. Probably both.

A cool breeze drifted through the trees. You closed your eyes for a second, enjoying the feeling against your skin. "This weather is so nice." Megumi quietly nodded. "Yeah." For him, the weather wasn't what made the afternoon feel nice. But he wasn't about to say that out loud.

Just beyond the path, a cluster of wildflowers had bloomed beneath a nearby tree. Tiny patches of color scattered among the green grass. Your entire face lit up. "Ah!" Megumi nearly jumped. You pointed excitedly toward them. "Megs, follow me!" Before he could react, you were already hurrying toward the flowers.

Megumi stopped walking. The only thing echoing in his head was one word. Megs. His heart skipped. Then immediately started racing. Did you just— No. You definitely did. The nickname replayed over and over in his mind.  As though you'd been calling him that for years. A ridiculous amount of happiness bloomed in his chest over something so small.

Ahead of him, you turned around. "Are you coming?" Megumi blinked. "Oh." Right, the flowers. "Yeah." His voice came out quieter than usual. He quickly followed after you, easily catching up. Truthfully, if you had pointed in the opposite direction and told him to walk for ten miles, he probably would've done that too. Every time you smiled at him, every time you said his name –or apparently gave him a nickname– he found himself wanting to stay by your side a little longer.

You stopped at the edge of the flower patch. Rows upon rows of asters stretched across the grass, their petals glowing softly beneath the fading sunlight. Your eyes lit up,"They're so pretty..." You crouched down beside the flowers, carefully brushing your fingers over a few petals. 

He lowered himself beside you, leaving enough space between you to be respectful but close enough to see what had caught your attention. For a while, neither of you said anything. The silence felt natural and peaceful. You pulled your phone from your pocket and angled it toward the flowers. A soft click, then another, then one more from a slightly different angle. Megumi watched as you studied the pictures with quiet satisfaction. After a moment, your attention drifted to one of the blooms nearby. Carefully, you plucked it from its stem. "These only bloom in autumn." You turned it over in your hands before tucking it behind your ear. Megumi's breath caught slightly. The flower looked like it belonged there, as though it had always been part of you. His gaze lingered for a second before he forced himself to look back toward the flower patch. "How do you know that?" 

"My mom loves these flowers." You absentmindedly adjusted the flower. "Every autumn my dad would bring her bouquets of them all the time." A quiet laugh escaped you. "Honestly, it was more like a flower garden than a house." Megumi found himself smiling faintly at the image. He could almost picture it. Flowers filling every room, a house smelling constantly of fresh blooms. 

"My favorite flower is actually a spring flower." Pulling up your phone, you unlocked it and showed him your wallpaper. Clusters of colorful lilies filled the screen. Megumi leaned closer to look. "These." The excitement in your voice made it obvious how much you liked them. 

"They're pretty." The words slipped out before he could stop himself. Your smile widened, then you turned toward him. "Do you like flowers?"   He looked back toward the flower tucked behind your ear. "...Not really." The answer came automatically. Megumi lowered his gaze, thinking. "Tsumiki liked flowers." His voice was quieter now. The mention of her name carried years of memories with it. "White ones, mostly."

A small smile touched his lips. "Nothing complicated. Just simple flowers." For a moment, the two of you sat there surrounded by asters and evening sunlight. The breeze stirred the grass around you. "I never paid much attention to them." His eyes drifted back toward the flower tucked carefully behind your ear. A thoughtful silence settled over him. Then he spoke again, softer this time. "Maybe I wouldn't mind them now."

You tilted your head, a questioning look forming on your face. Megumi immediately looked away, the tips of his ears turning pink. Because what he hadn't said, what he'd never admit out loud, was that flowers had become a lot more interesting the moment he started seeing them through your eyes.

That was probably the most he'd talked since the two of you met up. Maybe you were making progress. "Well..." Your gaze drifted back toward the flowers, then carefully plucked another aster, twirling it thoughtfully between your fingers. "Maybe..." Megumi watched curiously, you looked up at him, "...we can find a flower you'll like." The smile you gave him was gentle enough to make his chest tighten. Before he could process what you meant, you leaned forward.  With surprising care, you tucked the aster behind his ear, the petals brushed against his dark hair. "There." You pulled back to admire your work, "Now we match." Megumi stared, stared, and stared. Until his mouth moved before his brain could stop it."I like this one." 

The words slipped out instinctively. Your laughter immediately followed which always seemed to make him feel lighter too,"You're just saying that to please me, silly." Megumi's face heated instantly. The worst part was that he couldn't explain himself without sounding completely ridiculous because he wasn't talking about the flower…at least not entirely.

You pulled out your phone again,"Ooh, wait." Before he could ask what you were doing, you scooted slightly closer. Close enough that he could feel the warmth of your shoulder beside his. You lifted the camera, "Smile." The picture snapped before he could fully prepare himself. You checked the screen, a grin spread across your face, "It turned out really cute." Megumi hesitantly leaned over, his eyes landing on the photo. Your smile looked natural and happy, his expression was softer than usual, much softer. He barely recognized himself. "It turned out really cute, right?" you asked, then your eyes brightened with an idea, "Do you mind if I post it?" Megumi's stomach immediately dropped, would other people notice? Would they take one look at the picture and immediately figure out what he was trying so desperately to hide?

Still, when he looked back at your hopeful expression, saying no felt impossible, "Yeah." His voice came out quieter than intended, "Go for it." Your face lit up instantly, "Yay! Thanks!" The excitement in your voice made the embarrassment worth it. You immediately began typing away on your phone, Megumi watched with quiet amusement. 

"Oh!" You looked up, "You should add me here so I can tag you." For some reason, the idea of being tagged in your post made his heart skip. "Later though," you added quickly, slipping your phone back into your pocket, a teasing smile pulled at your lips. "Focus on hanging out with me now." Megumi stared, the comment was probably harmless, very casual, something anyone could've said. Yet his pulse immediately sped up. Because all he heard was: Pay attention to me. Which was the easiest request you'd made all afternoon. "Okay." A tiny smile appeared on his face. Small enough that most people would've missed it. But this time, he wasn't looking at the flowers, or the sunset, or the path ahead. His attention was exactly where you'd asked for it to be. On you.

You froze. Megumi seemed to realize what he'd done almost immediately. The smile disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and he lowered his gaze toward the ground. As if trying to hide it, as if it had slipped out by accident. But you'd already seen it. A real smile, not the awkward little ones he occasionally gave when he felt obligated to be polite. Your heart fluttered unexpectedly. Without realizing it, you found yourself staring. Trying to memorize it, trying to figure out what had made him smile, trying to figure out how to make it happen again.

Megumi could feel your eyes on him. At first, he tried to ignore it. But after several seconds, it became impossible. He glanced up while you were still looking at him. Not in a strange way or judgmental. Just...looking, thoughtful, focused, like you were studying something important. A dangerous part of him wondered if there was something else behind that look. Something he didn't dare hope for. Immediately, he shut the thought down. You were just curious. That was all. "What're you looking at?"

The question snapped you out of your thoughts. For a moment, you pressed your lips together. Trying and failing to come up with a less embarrassing answer. Eventually, you gave up. "You, dummy." You replied in a teasing tone. Megumi immediately regretted asking, noticing his expression and you laughed. "Has anyone ever told you that you have a nice smile?"

People complimented each other all the time, so why did it feel like you'd just reached into his chest and squeezed his heart? His first instinct was to brush it off, pretend it didn't affect him, act indifferent, but your expression made that impossible. You looked sincere and somehow that made it worse. "Not really." His voice sounded distant, almost surprised, he thought for a moment. "Maybe Tsumiki." 

Your eyes widened. "Really?" The disbelief slipped out before you could stop it. Then again... the answer made sense. Megumi didn't smile often. Not because he couldn't, but because he always seemed to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. You shook your head. "Your sister was spot on." Megumi immediately looked away, which only made you smile more. A few seconds passed. Then you added quietly, "Your smile is really cute, Megs."

His chest tightened so suddenly it almost hurt. Megumi ducked his head immediately, hoping it would hide how red his face had become. "Cut it out." His voice came out weaker than intended. "You’re teasing me." The accusation lacked any real conviction.

"What?" You sounded genuinely confused. "I'm not teasing you." You shifted closer, close enough that he couldn't avoid looking at you. "I'm serious. It should be illegal to have a smile as cute as yours." A quiet giggle followed while you lightly bumped your shoulder against his.

That name. That tone. That nudge. It hit him like a curse, straight to the chest. His gaze drifted away for a second before coming back to the warmth in your eyes. The softness that never seemed forced whenever you looked at him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't understand why you were looking at him like that.  "...You're gonna make me say something dumb if you keep talking like that," he muttered. The truth was that he wanted to say a lot of dumb things, but still clung to the last bit of caution he had left. Still worried that if he said too much, you'd look at him differently. 

“What do you wanna say? I’ll hear anything and everything that's on your mind.” Your voice came out light and easy, accompanied by a quiet hum. You wanted to know what was hidden underneath all those walls he kept around himself.

The words echoed through Megumi's mind, his heart felt lodged somewhere in his throat. If only you knew how badly he wanted to tell you everything. Megumi shook his head. "You'd be here all night."

“Then I'll be here with you all night.” The response left your mouth before you could stop it. Your eyes widened slightly, immediately realizing how that sounded. “Uh..but yeah…you don't have to be cautious around me. I want you to be comfortable.” The clarification came perhaps a little too quickly, but the sincerity behind it remained unchanged. You wanted him to relax, to stop treating every word like it needed to be carefully measured before being spoken. 

 "…You make that sound so easy." His voice was barely above a whisper, the words carried more weight than he intended. Because for you, maybe it was easy, you wore your emotions where people could see them. Megumi had spent years doing the opposite. Yet somehow, in a single afternoon, you had made him want to try. 

He stared down at the bottle in his hands, his fingers absentmindedly turning it back and forth. "I’ve never been good at this," he admitted, fingers fidgeting with the bottle in his hand. "Talking like… this." He swallowed hard. The confession felt strangely vulnerable. "But if I was gonna say something dumb—" His eyes slowly lifted until they found yours again. "It’d probably be that… I'm happy right now." The words lingered between you, entirely unguarded. 

“Really?” The smile that spread across your face was immediate. There was something almost childlike about the excitement in your expression, as though hearing those words from him was enough to make your entire afternoon even better. “I’m glad you’re happy. I'm really happy too. Hanging out with you is fun.”

"Yeah," he said quietly, blue eyes finally lifting from the ground to meet yours. "It is." The words felt painfully small compared to everything he actually wanted to say. He wanted to ask if you'd do this again. Tomorrow, next week, whenever your schedules allow. The questions crowded the back of his throat, none of them escaped.

“We have some time before it gets dark. Do you wanna sit under that tree?” You pointed toward the willow tree standing a short distance away. He followed your hand with his eyes, a small nod was all the answer he needed to give. Neither of you rushed toward the tree. Instead, the two of you naturally fell into step beside one another, your shoulders occasionally brushing as you walked through the field while the sky above slowly deepened into shades of lavender and gold.  

When the two of you reached the willow tree, he lowered himself to the ground, settling against the sturdy trunk with a quiet sigh. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, hands resting loosely at his sides. You sat beside him without hesitation, close enough that the warmth lingering from his body brushed against your side, yet leaving the smallest sliver of space between you. Leaning back against the trunk just as he was, you turned your head and stole another glance at him. The flower you had tucked into his hair earlier was still there, its pale petals shifting gently whenever the breeze caught them. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Forgot to mention but i really like your hoodie.” You commented while giving him an up-down look, he was stylish in a minimal effort way that fit him perfectly. It wasn't the compliment itself that caught him off guard, it was the way your eyes slowly traveled over him. You're looking at me. "Thanks," he muttered. "It's comfortable." A quiet beat drifted between you, "But I—uh—I like how you look too." 

You weren't doing much better. The cool breeze brushed against your face, yet somehow your cheeks only felt warmer. “Thanks Megs.” Your mind scrambled to make sense of the unfamiliar warmth blooming in your chest. Every explanation you reached for somehow felt too small for what you were feeling.

Megumi noticed. He could almost see the thoughts spinning behind your eyes, countless questions and emotions flickering across your expression as you looked at him. He wanted to know every single one of them. He cleared his throat, "Can I ask you something?"

“Ask me anything you want.” you hum, still trying to figure yourself out. Somewhere along the way, something had shifted inside you. You just couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had happened. Was it when he smiled? When he lets you see the softer parts of himself? Or had it begun long before today, quietly waiting for a chance to surface? 

"...Why me?" His voice was so quiet it nearly disappeared with the rustling willow branches above you. A beat passed. Then another. "I mean—today wasn't planned," he continued, every word leaving him carefully, like each one had to fight its way free. "You could’ve hung out with one of your friends." His blue eyes searched yours with an uncertainty so honest it almost hurt to look at. "So... why did you text me?"

There was something different in his voice, something fragile you hadn't heard from him before. It wasn't simple curiosity. You took your time before answering. “I've always been curious about you.”

A gentle breeze swept through the willow branches overhead, stirring the golden leaves until they danced above you. A few loose petals drifted lazily through the air. One settled delicately in your hair. Another landed against the sleeve of his hoodie, unnoticed. Megumi turned fully toward you. "And now?" His voice remained soft, but there was an earnestness behind it that made your heart skip. "Are you still…curious?" 

You held his gaze without realizing it. “I'm so curious, it’s killing me. The more I find out, the more I want to know.” The confession slipped out before you could overthink it, only after the words left your mouth did your confidence begin to falter. “Is that..weird?”

"No. It's not." he said quietly. Silence settled comfortably between you again. Neither of you seemed eager to break it. Above you, the willow branches swayed lazily, filtering the growing starlight into shifting patterns across the grass.

"...Can I ask you something else?" He says almost hesitantly.

“Hm?” you hummed softly, turning your gaze towards him.

"...Can I keep being the one you pick?" His voice barely rose above the breeze. It didn't sound like he was asking about just another afternoon together. It sounded like he was asking for a place in your life, for every ordinary day after this one. Like he was quietly placing his heart into your hands and trusting you not to let it fall. "I know it’s selfish," he added quickly. "But... I want to be." 

Your heart ached. “Yes Megs, I'll choose you. It's okay to be a little selfish sometimes.” You answered softly. The gentleness in your voice nearly undid him. God...his chest hurt. How much longer would he need to control his need for you?

TIMESKIP - 6 Months

For the past six months, the amount of time you spent with Megumi Fushiguro had increased exponentially. At first, the two of you only texted. Then, one afternoon after class, you mentioned struggling to understand a topic from history. Instead of sending another paragraph, Megumi surprised you by asking if he could call you. The conversation started awkwardly, neither of you quite sure what to say at first, but the moment he began explaining the Heian era, everything fell into place. He broke down each concept so smoothly that it finally made sense. He never spoke in a way that made you feel stupid for not understanding. If anything, he made learning feel exciting, encouraging you to ask more questions instead of feeling embarrassed for having them.

By the end of his explanation, you finally understood the lesson that had frustrated you all day. "You’re such a great teacher, Megs." A quiet pause followed. "...Shut up." You couldn't help but laugh.

For the next week or so, texting during the day remained the norm, but nights slowly became something entirely different. Once everyone else had gone to bed and the dorms had settled into silence, the two of you would spend hours on the phone talking about absolutely everything. Sometimes the conversations were completely ridiculous, filled with terrible jokes and pointless debates that somehow lasted an hour. Other nights became unexpectedly personal, the two of you peeling back layers of yourselves without even realizing it.

One evening the conversation drifted toward music. After nearly twenty minutes of relentless teasing and shameless begging, you finally managed to wear Megumi down. "...Fine," he sighed. "...Weezer." The second the band's name left his mouth, you gasped so loudly that there was complete silence on the other end of the call. "...Are you okay?" Instead of answering, you immediately switched the call to FaceTime. 

When your camera turned on, Megumi was greeted by the sight of an entire section of your wall dedicated to your favorite Weezer albums. Vinyl records, posters, CDs, you looked absurdly proud of the collection. For the first time that night, Megumi looked genuinely speechless.

"...You've got to be kidding me."

"I knew you had good taste."

"I regret telling you."

"You absolutely don't." His quiet sigh was accompanied by the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

What started as an innocent reveal quickly spiraled into a heated debate over which albums deserved the most recognition and which songs were criminally underrated. Neither of you were willing to admit defeat, constantly interrupting each other with reasons why your own rankings were objectively correct. Every now and then, though, you'd stumble across a song you both agreed deserved more love.

Ever since that first FaceTime call, that's how both of your nights ended. After long, grueling days filled with training, classes, and studying, you'd retreat to your dorms only to find each other waiting on the other side of the screen. Sometimes the conversations lasted for hours, jumping from one random topic to another without any real direction. Other nights, words weren't necessary at all. You'd quietly exist in each other's company while cleaning your rooms, reading, playing games, finishing homework, or simply lying in bed waiting for sleep to come. Occasionally, one of you would even fall asleep before remembering to hang up, leaving the other to smile at the sound of soft breathing through the speaker before ending the call. It simply became routine, the favorite part of both your days.

By that point, you and Megumi were practically attached at the hip. Online. In person, however, things were...different.

Despite spending hours talking every single night, the two of you barely interacted during lessons or training. At most, you'd exchange a small greeting before heading in different directions, almost like the conversations you'd shared until three in the morning had never happened. It never sat right with you. You tried starting conversations between classes or walking beside him after training, but Megumi always seemed strangely nervous whenever there wasn't a phone screen separating you.

The truth was, he was terrified. Over FaceTime, he could hide behind the comfort of his room. He could glance away when you smiled or collect his thoughts before speaking. In person, he had nowhere to hide. Every smile threatened to linger too long, every glance risked saying more than he ever intended. He was terrified that if he let himself become too comfortable around you, everyone would notice the way his eyes softened whenever you laughed, or how naturally he gravitated toward you. They'd realize just how hopelessly enamored he was.

Eventually, you decided enough was enough. One afternoon, Gojo sensei clapped his hands together at the front of the classroom. "Alright! Pair up for the project." Before anyone else had the chance to say a word, you spoke. "I'll work with Megumi." The room fell quiet for a brief moment. Megumi looked up from his notebook, blinking in surprise. "...Me?" You smiled. "Yeah, come on."

Working together turned into eating lunch together, lunch became sneaking away during recess to raid the vending machines for snacks before anyone noticed you were gone, those little outings gradually evolved into spending time with Yuji and Nobara as a group. The funny thing was, both of you had hung out with Yuji and Nobara separately countless times before. Somehow, though, none of you had ever thought to spend time all together. Once you did, it just worked.

One afternoon, the four of you were hanging out in the common room of the dorms. Yuji was somehow trying to convince Nobara that he could beat her at tic-tac-toe despite losing every previous attempt, while Megumi sat nearby pretending to read. You were laughing at their bickering when Panda and Yuta suddenly called your name from across the room. "Hey! We need a tie breaker!"

Megumi watched you retreat with an expression so subtle most people would've missed it. His eyes followed you until you disappeared into the crowd, and the room suddenly felt quieter. Like a puppy watching its owner walk away, he did his best to hide the disappointment settling in his chest. He told himself you'd be back in a few minutes, yet he still found himself glancing over every so often without realizing it.

Unfortunately for him, Yuji and Nobara knew him far too well. The two exchanged a knowing look before Yuji finally blurted out, "Fushiguro...are you into her?" Megumi froze. For the briefest second, his expression cracked before he quickly composed himself, looking back down at his book as though nothing had happened. "What the hell are you talking about, Itadori?" He scoffed, hoping his usual monotone would bury the embarrassing truth before it ever reached the surface. It didn't.

Yuji and Nobara immediately scooted closer, completely unconvinced. "Dude," Yuji said, nudging his shoulder. "You have to ask her out."

"I don't like her." The response came far too quickly. "Come onnn," Nobara groaned, rolling her eyes. "Don't be like that. Just admit it."

"I knew I wasn't imagining things," Yuji muttered to himself, nodding proudly as if he'd just solved an impossible mystery. Megumi shot him an irritated glare, right before he could snap back, Nobara cut in. "If you ask her out, she'll definitely say yes."

The words echoed in his mind longer than they should have. His eyes drifted toward where you were standing with Panda and Yuta, animatedly arguing about whatever ridiculous debate they'd dragged you into. "...You guys are insane." He exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Bro," Yuji exclaimed, "you're insane for not making a move already!" Nobara immediately smacked the back of his head. "Ow!"

"Keep your voice down, idiot." She turned back to Megumi. "Listen, Fushiguro." Her teasing expression softened into something surprisingly sincere. "She likes you. Just do it." Megumi didn't answer. He couldn't. Those words stayed with him long after everyone had gone their separate ways.

For the next few days, he tried to forget the conversation entirely. He trained, went to class, completed missions, and answered your texts like he always did. Yet every time you smiled at him, every time your eyes softened when they met his, every time you unconsciously found your way to stand beside him during conversations, Nobara's voice crept back into his thoughts.

She likes you.

He hated how much he thought about it. There was no way he could assume something like that. But with each passing day, his curiosity grew stronger. Stronger than the voice telling him he wasn't enough, stronger than the fear of being wrong. And for the first time in a long time, Megumi found himself wondering what would happen if, just maybe, Yuji and Nobara weren't completely insane after all.

Megumi made his decision. He was going to ask you out. First, he needed an actual plan. If he was going to do this, he refused to make it half-hearted. The problem was that every idea he came up with was immediately thrown out. Every possibility somehow managed to feel like either too little, too much, or unbearably corny.

The next morning, he sought out the only two people he knew would have an opinion on the matter. "...I need help." Yuji nearly dropped the drink he was holding. "No way." Nobara stared at Megumi for a second before a grin slowly spread across her face. "He's finally doing it."

"I'm not 'doing it,'" Megumi muttered. "I just...need ideas."

"Oh my God," Yuji gasped dramatically. "Operation: Make Her Fall for Fushiguro is officially underway."

For the next several days, the three of them became completely absorbed in planning. Yuji insisted every date needed something exciting, Nobara repeatedly shut down his terrible ideas before they could even be considered, and Megumi found himself acting as the only voice of reason. Somehow, despite all the arguing, the plan slowly started coming together. Unfortunately, keeping it a surprise meant they had to avoid you.

For the first time in months, the four of you stopped hanging out together after class. Instead, it was always just Megumi, Yuji, and Nobara disappearing somewhere with suspicious excuses.

"We're...busy." "It's a thing." "You'll see later."

Every explanation felt vague enough to make you raise an eyebrow. At first, you brushed it off. They were probably just doing something together. Still it felt strange.

Then Megumi started missing your nightly calls. The first night, your phone buzzed.

Sorry. I'm busy tonight.

You smiled to yourself and typed back.

No worries. Talk tomorrow.

The second night brought another message.

Sorry. Still busy.

Your smile wasn't quite as convincing that time. By the fourth apology, you found yourself staring at your phone longer than you meant to.

Sorry. I'm busy.

You knew he probably wasn't avoiding you on purpose.Whatever he was doing must've been important. That didn't stop the disappointment from settling in your chest every time another apology appeared across your screen. You hated how much it bothered you.

After days of planning, everything was finally ready. It wasn't anything extravagant, but it was something he genuinely believed you'd enjoy. There was just one problem. He still had to ask you. That somehow felt more terrifying than planning the entire date. Sitting alone in his room, he unlocked his phone and pulled up your contact. Your name stared back at him from the screen. His thumb hovered over the keyboard, but he couldn't bring himself to type anything.

What if she's busy? What if she says no? What if she realizes it's a date?

He let out a long, quiet sigh, leaning back against the wall. "...Get it together." After another minute of doing absolutely nothing, he finally started typing.

Hey. Wanna hang out tomorrow?

Very simple, casual, normal. He reread the message once, then again, and again. Before his thoughts could spiral any further, he closed his eyes and pressed send. 

yeah ofc :)

Without realizing it, the tension in his shoulders eased. A small breath escaped him, then another notification appeared.

you got anything in mind?

Surprise.

Meet me by the vending machine at 6 pm.

A few seconds later, your reply came through.

alrightyy see you then!

You smiled at your phone before locking the screen and setting it on your nightstand. You stretched out across your bed, staring up at the ceiling with your hands folded behind your head.

A surprise? That wasn't very Megumi.

Normally he'd tell you exactly where you were going, what time to be ready, and probably remind you twice to bring a jacket if it was cold. The secrecy caught you completely off guard. A dozen possibilities ran through your mind.

You started getting ready almost an hour and a half before you were supposed to meet Megumi. It felt a little ridiculous considering the two of you had hung out countless times before, but something about not seeing him one on one for almost a week had you strangely nervous. You found yourself putting more effort in your appearance, wearing your favorite sundress, taking more time on your makeup, trying a new hairstyle,  and having a few extra sprays of your favorite perfume. You slipped on your shoes before taking one final glance at yourself in the mirror.

"...Hopefully he notices." The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Your cheeks immediately warmed. "What am I saying?" you muttered, laughing quietly at yourself as you grabbed your phone and headed for the door. It was just Megumi. You'd hung out with him dozens of times before. So why did this one feel...different?

Megumi had been standing by the vending machines for nearly ten minutes already. To anyone passing by, he looked exactly the same as always, hands tucked into his pockets, relaxed posture, calm expression, eyes lazily scanning the courtyard. If someone asked, they'd assume he was simply waiting for a friend.

On the inside, however, he was one poorly timed thought away from panicking. He checked the time on his phone again. 5:57. Three more minutes. He sighed quietly, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

Against his better judgment, he'd actually put some effort into his appearance. Not enough for it to be obvious, of course. His outfit sat a little neater than usual, his hair had been fixed more than once before leaving his room, and he might've sprayed on an extra bit of cologne. Maybe two. Not that anyone needed to know that.

His heart seemed to beat faster with every passing second. 5:59. 

Relax. It's just her.

The thought was supposed to calm him down, it did the exact opposite. The clock on his phone flipped to 6:00. Almost instinctively, he looked up, and there you were.

Walking toward him with an easy smile, the golden evening light catching around you as the breeze gently played with your hair. For a brief moment, the rest of the campus seemed to disappear. Megumi forgot every sentence he'd rehearsed. 

The sundress suited you perfectly, flowing softly with each step while hugging your figure just enough to make his face warm. Your hair framed your face effortlessly, moving with the wind like it had been styled specifically for this moment. Then his eyes settled on your face. He noticed everything, the subtle shimmer around your eyes, the way your makeup made them seem even brighter whenever you smiled, the gloss on your lips catching the fading sunlight. Even before you were close enough for him to properly think again, your familiar perfume reached him, and something about it immediately settled into his memory.

She...she looks...

No words came, none of them seemed enough.

"Hi, Megs!" you called with the same bright smile you always reserved for him. He quickly cleared his throat. "Hey." He prayed his voice sounded normal."You've been waiting long?" you asked, stopping beside him. Megumi shook his head almost immediately. "No. I just got here." You looked him up and down, your smile growing just a little. "You look nice." 

“Thanks." It came out quieter than he intended. "You do too," he added after an awkward beat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Really...nice." Neither of you noticed the identical smiles that had unknowingly spread across both of your faces.

"Ready?" Megumi asked. You nodded eagerly. "Lead the way." He turned and started walking, secretly letting out the breath he'd been holding ever since he'd first seen you.

Okay. So far, so good.

Despite how badly the two of you had been panicking beforehand, the nervousness that had consumed both of you while getting ready slowly melted away, replaced by the familiar rhythm you'd built over months of late-night calls and countless conversations. You talked about training, complained about Gojo's latest antics, laughed over something ridiculous Yuji had done earlier that week, and debated whether Nobara would ever admit when she was wrong.

"Never," Megumi answered immediately. 

You laughed. "Not even if someone proved her wrong?"

"No."

"What if the evidence was literally right in front of her?" He glanced over at you with the faintest hint of amusement. "Especially then." You giggled, the sound making the corner of his mouth twitch upward before he could stop it. When the talking faded, neither of you rushed to fill the silence.

Instead, you simply walked beside one another, your footsteps naturally falling into the same pace without either of you noticing. The quiet never felt awkward. As the walk continued, the realization hit that this is the same path from your first hangout a few months ago, did he plan this on purpose? Surely not. 

Spring had transformed the campus entirely since that day. Everything felt alive. You'd always loved spring. The peaceful silence drew your attention toward the pond just ahead. As you got closer, the water reflected streaks of gold, pink, and soft orange from the setting sun, each ripple turning the colors into moving brushstrokes across its surface. Near the edge, a family of ducks floated together, the tiny ducklings eagerly following behind their parents in an uneven little line. 

"They're so cute..." A smile spread across your face as you watched them paddle across the water. The breeze brushed a few loose strands of hair across your cheek. "It's so beautiful," you murmured softly. Megumi looked over. "...Yeah." His voice came out just above a whisper. "It really is." But he wasn't looking at the pond, he wasn't watching the sunset shimmer across the water, he didn't even notice the ducks. His eyes had settled on you instead.

The golden light painted soft highlights across your face, catching in your eyes every time you looked around in quiet wonder. The breeze carried the familiar scent of your perfume toward him again as strands of your hair danced gently in the wind. You looked so completely at peace, smiling at something as simple as a family of ducks swimming together.

Beautiful, he thought. The word came so naturally it startled him.

Once you appreciated the view for long enough, you turned your gaze forward and could already spot the willow tree from months ago. As you studied the nostalgia filled tree, your eyes fell upon a picnic blanket. You stopped immediately, your feet refusing to move any further. The white blanket rested beneath the hanging willow branches, creating a little secluded corner that felt like a little world of its own. Beside you, Megumi's heartbeat sped up. 

Do you hate it? Did I do too much? I think I'm starting to sweat.

His eyes stayed glued to your face, trying to read every little reaction. He had spent far longer preparing this than he'd ever admit. Every plate had been rearranged at least three times before meeting up.

 "Did you…prepare all this?" You asked quietly, still in a daze. Months ago, you had casually mentioned wanting to have a picnic once spring came around, but you never imagined he'd actually remember. It had been such an offhand comment that even you had almost forgotten about it.

"Yeah...uh I know you probably wanted it to be a group thing but–" He replied, gaze drifting toward the grass as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

"No no I like it…actually I love it." You interrupted, your cheeks flushing as butterflies erupted in your stomach. 

His eyes widened slightly before a proud smile threatened to appear, "Really? I'm glad." He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He gestured toward the blanket with a small nod. "Come on." His voice was gentle as he walked over first, sitting down beneath the shade of the willow tree.  You followed after him, carefully sitting beside him on the soft white blanket. For the first few moments, you simply looked around, taking in everything he'd prepared. A neatly organized charcuterie board sat in the center with different cheeses, crackers, cured meats, and little jars of jam. Beside it were fresh pastries, neatly sliced fruit, a bottle of passion fruit juice, and two cups waiting to be filled. Everything had its own little plate or bowl, arranged so neatly it almost felt too pretty to touch.

He even remembered the passion fruit. 

Not too loudly, Megumi reached over and turned on a small speaker. The opening notes of your favorite Weezer album drifted softly through the air, blending with the rustling leaves overhead, the distant chirping of birds, and the occasional splash from the nearby pond. It wasn't loud enough to interrupt the peaceful atmosphere, it simply became part of it.

This was so perfect. Too perfect.

The warm spring breeze brushed against your skin, carrying the scent of flowers and fresh grass. For just a moment, everything else disappeared. School, missions, responsibilities...none of it seemed important anymore. All that mattered was this quiet evening beneath the tree with him. You looked up, only to find Megumi already watching you. Your eyes met for a split second before you smiled sheepishly. "This is so sweet. Thank you."  He shrugged his shoulders as if none of this had taken hours of planning. "It was nothing." You couldn't help but smile even wider. You knew he didn't believe that himself.  Megumi cleared his throat. "Start digging in while I pour you some juice."

"Alright." You hummed softly, reaching for your phone before touching any of the food. The picnic looked far too pretty to ruin without capturing it first. You quickly snapped a few pictures from different angles. Smiling to yourself, you saved your favorite one to post on your story later before finally setting your phone aside.

Taking one of the cute little plates, you carefully started picking out a few crackers, different cheeses, and slices of meat, arranging them far less neatly than Megumi had. You popped a piece of fresh fruit into your mouth before looking back up at him. Across from you, Megumi was busy unscrewing the bottle of passion fruit juice. He carefully poured it into one of the cups, making sure not to spill a single drop before extending it toward you. You accepted it with a thankful grin and a small nod. "Thanks." He simply gave a quiet hum in response.  You took a sip, immediately smiling to yourself. The juice was still perfectly cold, making the sweet, tropical flavor stand out even more. 

Megumi began filling his own plate, selecting a few crackers and snacks with the same quiet precision he seemed to do everything with. While his attention was on the food, you reached over and grabbed the bottle of juice. "I got you." You said casually, already lifting it toward his cup. The moment he noticed, he reacted almost instantly. "No."

His hand reached over to gently take the bottle from yours before you could pour anything. He shot you a small reprimanding look, one eyebrow raising ever so slightly. "I can do it." You blinked at him before letting out an amused laugh.

"Megumi, it's just juice."

"I know."

"Then let me pour it."

"No."

His answer came so quickly that it caught you off guard. Without another word, he carefully poured the juice himself before setting the bottle back down exactly where it had been. You couldn't help but laugh again, shaking your head with a smile. "You're ridiculous." He looked away, pretending to be focused on adjusting the placement of his cup.

"You don't have to do everything for me, you know." You teased.

"I know." He replied quietly. "I just want to." The words slipped out before he could stop them. His gentlemanly attitude made you chuckle. It wasn't like he wasn't a gentleman with you usually, but he was definitely being extra this afternoon and truthfully, you didn't mind it one bit. After that little interaction, one topic naturally flowed into another, interrupted only by the occasional laugh or teasing remark. Everything felt so light when you were with him. Maybe part of it was the warmth of spring surrounding you, or maybe it was the way your heart fluttered every time he looked at you for just a second too long.

Megumi's eyes met yours. His expression softened before his eyes widened slightly, almost like he'd just remembered something. "Hey, close your eyes real quick." His words came out a little more hurried than he intended as he scrambled to his feet.

You let out a quiet chuckle."Okay." Without questioning him, you shut your eyes. You heard the rustle of the blanket as he stepped away, followed by the sound of his footsteps disappearing across the grass. Curiosity tugged at you, but you resisted every urge to peek.

Behind you, Megumi walked over to the willow tree where he'd hidden one last surprise. Nestled behind the thick curtain of hanging branches was a bouquet he had carefully tucked away before you guys arrived, hoping you wouldn't notice it too soon. He picked it up carefully, making sure none of the flowers had been crushed.

Please like them.

He took one sharp inhale before slowly exhaling, trying to settle the pounding in his chest. His palms suddenly felt much warmer than they had a minute ago. This somehow felt even more nerve-wracking than asking you to come here. Walking back toward you, he stopped just in front of where you sat on the blanket. "Open them." His voice was noticeably softer this time.

You slowly opened your eyes. Standing before you was Megumi, both arms extended toward you, holding a gorgeous bouquet of lilies. Their delicate petals glowed beneath the golden evening light, shades of lavender, soft blue, white, and pale pink blending together beautifully. Their sweet floral fragrance reached you almost immediately, subtle but unmistakable. Your eyes widened. For a long moment, you couldn't say anything. Instead, your gaze slowly traveled from the bouquet up to Megumi's face. You looked at him with wide, doe-like eyes, as if you couldn't quite believe what you were seeing.

Megumi felt his heartbeat hammer against his ribs. He suddenly wasn't sure where to look. All he could manage was a small nod toward the bouquet in his hands, silently encouraging you to take it before he completely lost his nerve. A tiny pout formed on your lips as you reached forward with the utmost care, almost as though the flowers were too precious to touch. Your fingertips brushed against the paper wrapping before you gently accepted the bouquet into your arms. 

You stared down at them for another moment, admiring every little detail—the carefully wrapped ribbon, the vibrant blooms, the way each stem had been arranged so neatly. You were feeling so many things all at once that you couldn't even begin sorting through them. All you could do was smile.

And that smile alone was enough to make Megumi's stomach flip like never before. From where he stood, the entire scene looked unreal. Behind you, the pond reflected the golden hues of the setting sun with streaks of soft purple beginning to peek through the sky. The willow branches swayed lazily overhead while the spring breeze carried flower petals across the grass. Nature was at its absolute peak.

But none of it compared to you.

The sunlight caught the edges of your hair, giving it a warm glow as you looked down at the bouquet with such genuine happiness. Your smile was soft, your eyes sparkled with wonder, and for a brief moment, everything else around him seemed to fade into the background.

I want to remember this. Not just the picnic. Not just today. This exact moment.

Very quietly, he reached into his pocket, moving as carefully as possible so he wouldn't startle you. His fingers wrapped around his phone while his eyes never left you for even a second. Slowly, he raised it just enough to frame you beneath the willow tree.

You looked...beautiful.

The quiet sound of the camera shutter immediately caught your attention. You looked up in surprise, turning toward him just as he lowered his phone. Thankfully, he'd managed to take the picture before you noticed.  "Huh?" Your expression was filled with confusion as you looked between him and the phone. Megumi did his best to remain as casual as possible despite the slight warmth creeping onto his face. "For you to post." He peeked at you from behind his phone.

A laugh escaped your lips. "You could've just asked."

"Whatever." The corners of his mouth twitched upward almost imperceptibly.

Instead of teasing him any further, you decided to play along. Sitting up a little straighter, you held the bouquet closer and looked toward his camera with an amused smile. "Oh? Is this a photoshoot now?"

He gave the smallest shrug. "If you want."

You giggled before flashing a little peace sign toward the camera. Click. Then you formed a tiny heart with your fingers. Click. You glanced over your shoulder toward the pond, letting the sunset become your backdrop. Click. Finally, you lifted the bouquet beside your face, smiling as naturally as you could. Click.

"That's enough." You laughed, covering your face for a moment.

"I only took a few."

"You definitely took more than a few."

"Maybe."

As the little photoshoot came to an end, your attention drifted away from the camera lens and toward the phone itself. It was then that you noticed something tucked inside his clear phone case, your eyes narrowed in recognition. Is that an aster? Very carefully preserved despite its withered appearance.

You couldn't believe it. The lilies, the picnic, the music, the passion fruit juice, the way he'd remembered every little thing you'd casually mentioned over the past few months, and he kept that aster you gave him? There was no way this was casual.  So was this what you thought it was or were you just making things up because you wanted it to be?

Megumi sat back down across from you, trying his best to ignore how violently his pulse hammered in his ears. He picked up his cup, taking a slow sip of juice to give his hands something to do. You watched him for another moment. If you didn't ask now you never would. 

"So…what is all this?" Your voice came out much softer than you intended as you gestured to everything surrounding the two of you. The question froze him. Megumi immediately choked on his drink. He coughed, setting the cup down far quicker than intended as his heart seemed to plummet straight into his stomach.

Oh No. No no no. Not yet.

He wasn't ready. He hadn't practiced this part enough. His confession was supposed to happen later. After the food. After walking you to the dorms. Maybe beneath the stars when there wasn't any chance of ruining everything. His mind completely blanked. Finally, he forced out the first thing that came to mind.

"Well it's a hangout, right?" He shrugged, casually. 

The words lingered between you. Like they'd been carved into the air itself.

Oh. Right.

Your fingers tightened almost imperceptibly around the bouquet.

Of course it was.

You gave a small nod, managing a faint smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah." You looked down at the flowers resting in your lap. "...Right." The butterflies that had been fluttering in your chest all afternoon suddenly felt unbearably heavy. Something inside you quietly sank. Since when had you started hoping he'd say something else? I guess I misunderstood.

Across from you, Megumi immediately knew.  Idiot. His stomach twisted painfully. Why would you say that? He wanted to grab the words back, wanted to explain. Wanted to tell you that he'd spent nearly two weeks planning this stupid picnic because you deserved something beautiful. That he'd gone to three different flower shops looking for lilies because he remembered you saying they were hard to find. That the dried aster petals in his phone case had been there since the day you tucked it behind his ear months ago.

Instead…He'd called it…a ‘hangout.’

The conversation started again after that. But neither of you were really there anymore. There was something different in your voice now. Quieter, more careful. The sparkle that had been in your eyes earlier had dimmed just enough for him to notice.

Maybe nobody else would've caught it. Megumi did. Every single change, pause, forced smile, every moment your gaze drifted away instead of finding his. Each one felt like another reminder that he'd just ruined the perfect opportunity. The guilt settled heavily in his chest.

Fix it. Say something. Anything.

But every sentence he came up with died before it reached his mouth. Eventually the conversation faded completely. Silence settled over the two of you once more. Only this time, it wasn't the comfortable kind. The music from the speaker suddenly felt too quiet, the breeze through the willow branches no longer sounded peaceful. Even the ducks on the pond seemed impossibly far away. The line he'd accidentally drawn between you sat there, invisible but impossible to ignore. 

You kept your gaze lowered to your hands, gently running your thumb over the ribbon tied around the bouquet. "...It's getting late." You forced out a small smile. "Maybe we should—"

"No." The word left him before he could think. You looked up. Megumi had never interrupted you like that before. His fingers clenched so tightly around the edge of the picnic blanket that his knuckles had gone pale. He stared at the grass for a long moment, breathing through his nose as if he couldn't figure out how to make his lungs work.

"...I..." His voice cracked immediately. He clicked his tongue in annoyance with himself, rubbing a hand down his face. "I..." Another failed attempt. "...Damn it." His ears were bright red now. You watched him quietly, your own heart beginning to race. 

"I keep..." He swallowed. "...I keep saying the wrong thing." Another pause. "When you asked..." He let out a shaky laugh that held no amusement. "...about all this..." His shoulders slumped. "I panicked." He looked over at you for just a second before looking away again. "I've been...trying to figure out how to say this all day."  His words stumbled over each other.

"No...longer than today." He exhaled. "A while." His fingers tightened again. "I kept thinking if I planned everything right..." He glanced at the flowers in your lap. "...if I found the right place...got flowers you'd actually like...waited until sunset..." His laugh was quiet and self-deprecating. "...then maybe I'd know what to say." Another beat of silence. "I still don't." 

He shook his head. "I've rehearsed this so many times." His voice came out barely above a whisper. "And somehow this is worse."

You didn't interrupt him. You simply watched.

Megumi closed his eyes for a moment before finally forcing himself to meet yours. "I told you this was just a hangout because..." He swallowed hard. "...because I got scared." His expression softened, every wall he'd carefully built over the years beginning to crumble.

"I thought if I told you..." he admitted quietly, "...and you didn't feel the same..." He couldn't even finish the sentence. "So I lied." Another breath. "I hate lying to you."

His gaze lingered on yours now, refusing to run away again. "This wasn't supposed to be casual." His voice steadied. "None of this was.” 

His eyes flickered down to his phone for a second. "I kept that aster because..." A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "...it was the first flower you ever gave me. I know it's dried out. I know it's probably stupid. But I couldn't throw it away." His smile disappeared again as emotion settled over his features.

"Asters became my favorite flower because of you." The words came easier now, like a dam had finally broken.

"I started looking for excuses to talk to you. I'd catch myself wondering if you'd eaten yet, if you got to your dorm safely after a mission. I'd hear a song and think..." He huffed another embarrassed laugh. "'She'd probably like this one. I'd see something funny and my first thought was always..." He looked at you with an expression so open it almost hurt. "...I have to tell her." 

His voice softened. "You became the person I wanted beside me. No matter what I was doing, no matter where I was." He shook his head. "You make everything quieter. My head's usually...loud. But when I'm with you..." He looked around at the pond, the willow tree swaying gently in the spring breeze, the warm orange light dancing across the water. "...it finally feels peaceful."

The sunset reflected in his eyes as he looked back at you. "And when you smiled just now..." His gaze drifted to the bouquet still cradled in your arms. "I thought that..." A tiny, breathless laugh escaped him. "...I've never seen anything more beautiful." He took one slow breath. Then another. His heartbeat felt loud enough for both of you to hear.

"I like you." The words were simple. Honest. "I wanted today to be perfect because you deserve it." His voice grew quiet again. "And because..." He held your gaze without looking away this time. "I wanted to be the one who gave it to you." Silence settled over the pond once more. Not awkward, not heavy, just full.

Megumi let out the breath he'd been holding for what felt like forever. "...So." A nervous smile, small and uncertain, finally appeared. "I guess..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away for only a second before finding your eyes again. "...I'm asking if you'll let this be more than just a hangout."

You couldn't believe everything you had just heard. Megumi wasn't the type to pour his heart out—not like that. Every hesitant word, every stumble, every confession had been pulled straight from the deepest parts of himself, and it completely unraveled the dam you'd been desperately holding together. The first thing that escaped you was a shaky laugh, your lips trembling as you fought to keep the tears from spilling over. You drew in a slow, steadying breath, hoping it would calm the way your heart seemed determined to beat out of your chest.

With gentle fingers, you plucked one of the lilies from the bouquet and tucked it behind your ear. The delicate petals brushed against your cheek, their sweet fragrance surrounding you.  Then you reached for another flower. Cradling it carefully between your fingers, you looked back up at him. Your hand trembled ever so slightly as you inched closer, slowly lifting it toward him. Neither of you broke eye contact. 

With the same tenderness from months ago, you tucked the flower above his ear. Your fingertips lingered for just a moment, brushing against the softness of his hair before grazing the warmth of his temple.  Before your hand could drift away, his fingers gently closed around your wrist, so impossibly careful, as though he was silently asking for permission to hold on just a little longer. His thumb slowly slid against your skin before his hand found yours, carefully threading your fingers together. 

Those usually guarded navy eyes searched every inch of your expression, quietly pleading for reassurance, for confirmation that this wasn't another hope he'd imagined. They softened with every passing second, the tension slowly melting away as he found nothing but warmth reflected back at him. Your hearts seemed to beat in perfect rhythm. Fast. Heavy. Close enough that you almost wondered if he could feel yours through your joined hands.

"Yes, Megs. I like you too." The words left your lips in barely more than a whisper, but they carried every feeling you'd struggled to put into words. A fond smile spread across your face, small and impossibly gentle, one that reached your eyes despite the tears gathering there.

Megumi simply stared at you. His lips parted ever so slightly, as though he'd forgotten how to breathe. The corners of his eyes softened, and his shoulders, tense for what felt like hours, finally eased. His hand trembled in yours, tightening just enough to reassure himself that you were real. He searched your face over and over, committing every detail to memory—the warmth in your eyes, the smile on your lips, the flower tucked behind your ear glowing beneath the golden light of the setting sun.

Without thinking, you found yourself inching closer. So did he. The distance between you grew impossibly small. Close enough to feel each other's breath. Close enough that your noses almost brushed. He hesitated. His eyes flickered between yours, searching them one last time. There was a question in them. When you didn't pull away—if anything, when you leaned in just the slightest bit more—his eyes dropped to your lips.

His free hand slowly lifted, almost timidly, until the back of his fingers grazed your cheek. He cradled the side of your face with unbelievable care, his touch so light it was as if he feared holding you any tighter would shatter the moment you'd built together. You instinctively leaned into the warmth of his palm. The smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Then, with one last shaky breath, he closed the remaining distance.

His lips met yours in the gentlest kiss imaginable. Tentative. Almost hesitant. It lingered for only a heartbeat, both of you still learning the unfamiliar feeling. Neither of you pulled away though. Your fingers uncurled from his hand to guide it slowly to your waist. His eyes flickered down to watch your movement and then pulled you closer to him. Your lips meeting each other once again.

The second kiss was still gentle, but as you both slowly fall into the rhythm the nerves begin to fade. He wasn’t even thinking, his world narrowed down to this one moment of kissing you, trying to spell out every emotion he’s felt for you since the beginning with his lips over yours. The hand he had cradling your cheek traveled down to cup your nape. Your head tilted slightly, getting more comfortable while your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. The faint sweet tangy taste of passion fruit being passed between heavy breaths. 

When the two of you finally ran out of air you pulled away in a daze. Your dress and his shirt evidently more wrinkled, a coat of your lipgloss on his lips, and both of your faces slightly flushed. After a beat of silence you both started giggling while adjusting your clothes and wiping off the messy gloss.

“So does this mean we’re official?” You ask teasingly with a nudge to his shoulder. Megumi’s brows furrow in confusion and eyes wide, “What? Was it not clear enough?” He asks, thinking you’re serious for a moment. You snicker at his reaction and he scoffs, realizing you were messing with him. He pulls you into a hug, which is only a means to start tickling you. You try to squirm away but to no avail, the only thing that causes is for the both of you to start rolling off the blanket and into the grass.

tags: @x3nafix 

[binchidavinci]

ཐི༏ཋྀ󠀮 ᕼᗩᖇᖇY ᑭOTTEᖇ ᗰᗩSTEᖇᒪIST

જ⁀➴ Fics

'Manners Maketh the Wizard'

(Fred Weasley x Muggle! reader) Stumbling in front of a bus in central London, Fred saves you the only way he can: apparation. This leaves you with a lot of questions, and no (believable) answers. Of course, he takes the muggle home to the Burrow to plead for his family's help.

'Two-Way Diary'

(George Weasley x Muggle! reader) After you find a diary that writes back to you in your late-grandmother's belongings, things start to get weird and you find yourself entering a whole new world.

જ⁀➴ Imagines

Oliver Wood

Muddy (Crush!Oliver Wood x reader)

Hermione Granger

First Kiss (WLW!Hermione x reader) Yule Ball (Hermione x reader) Jealousy, Jealousy! (Jealous!Hermione x reader) Teach me (Hermione x reader)

Cedric Diggory

Bracelet (Yandere!Cedric x reader) Take it Off (Sad!Cedric x reader)

Ron Weasley

Forbidden Love (Ron x Slytherin! reader)

George Weasley

Broad & Bruised (Injured!George x Caring!reader) Triwizard (Friends to Lovers!George x reader) Period Care (Caring!George x reader) Say that Again (Protective! George x reader) 🔥 Festivities (Shy!George x reader) Borrowed (George x Ginny’s BFF! reader) First Meeting (George x reader) Forbidden Forest (Protective!George x reader) Revenge (Protective! George x reader) Surprise (BF!George x reader) Concussion (George x Wood! reader)

Fred Weasley

Meeting Mrs Weasley (Fred x Syltherin! reader) Don't Cry (Comforting!Fred x reader) Clingy (Needy!Fred x reader) Scarred (Post-War!Fred x reader) Happy Go Lucky (Fred x Sunshine! reader) Make You Jealous (Fred x Jealous! reader) Amortentia (Crush!Fred x reader) Grumpy Girl (Fred x Malfoy! reader) Marry Me (BFF!Fred x reader) Torturous (Protective!Fred x reader) Should've Been Me (Heartbroken!Fred x reader) Bulk Season (Gym!Fred x reader) Hands to Myself (Handsy!Fred x reader) She Said No (Protective! Fred x reader) Like a Brother (BFF!Fred x reader) Make Pretend (Fake BF!Fred x reader)

Weasley Twins

Clumsy (Yandere!Twins x reader) Thinking of you (Twins x reader) Christmas (Stoner!Twins x reader) Our Family (Twins x reader) Two Dads (Twins x Pregnant! reader) Silly Girl (Patronising!Twins x reader) Beauxbatons (Twins x Beauxbatons! reader) Keep You Happy (Twins x Shy! reader) Marauders Map (Twins x Vampire! reader)

Draco Malfoy

Clever Girl (Patronising!Draco x reader) Confessions (Drunk!Draco x Potter! reader)

Harry Potter

I Didn’t Know (Crush!Harry x reader)

Golden Trio (Harry, Ron, Hermione)

Too far (Yandere!Trio x reader)

જ⁀➴ Headcanons

Misc.

Autumnal! Cedric Diggory Closted! Hermione Coming Out Closeted! Hermione’s Parents Yandere! Golden Trio BF! Fred Weasley Nursing Sick! reader Power Couple! Fred Weasley Submissive! Fred Weasley (SFW & NSFW) Crush! Fred Weasley with Odd! reader Submissive! George (SFW & NSFW) Yandere! Twins (SFW & NSFW) Dad! Weasley Twins

[belchyra]

Without fanfare

[ SYNOPSIS ] — You're a hopeless romantic dating Megumi Fushiguro, convinced he's too quiet and aloof for grand gestures, you never ask for the things you secretly want. But Megumi has been paying attention all along. w.c: 2.5k [ PAIRING ] — bf!megumi fushiguro x hopeless romantic!reader [ TAGS ] — gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, no angst. art by: @/sa2men THIS FIC IS A REQUEST!

The moment you fell in love with Megumi Fushiguro, you made a quiet, private peace with the fact that he would never be the kind of boyfriend who showed up with flowers.

It wasn’t that he didn’t care. If anything, he cared more than anyone you’d ever known. He just showed it differently. He walked on the street side of the sidewalk without ever mentioning it. He remembered your coffee order, down to the half-sugar, and never got it wrong. When you were sick, he showed up with medicine and a bag of the specific crackers you could stomach, no fanfare, no fuss. He sat through movies he clearly didn’t enjoy because you wanted to see them, and he never complained, only glancing at you every so often to see if you were having a good time.

He was steady. That was the word for him. He was the quiet, constant presence that made everything feel more manageable. And you loved him for it. You really did.

But you also loved romance. The kind of romance that made your heart flutter in your chest, the kind that belonged in books and movies and the daydreams you indulged in when you were alone. You loved the idea of being surprised with something thoughtful just because someone had been thinking of you. A bouquet of your favorite flowers. A box of chocolates you’d mentioned wanting to try once, in passing. A handwritten note tucked somewhere you’d find it. Small things, really. Silly things, maybe. But they mattered to you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

You’d never told Megumi any of this. It felt too vulnerable, too much like asking for something you weren’t sure he could give. What if you asked and he tried, and it was awkward and forced and you both ended up feeling worse? What if he thought it was frivolous, a waste of time and money? You’d rather have nothing than have something that made him uncomfortable.

So you kept that part of yourself tucked away. You watched your romance movies with your headphones on so he wouldn’t catch you sniffling over a love confession. You scrolled past flower shop displays without slowing down. When you saw couples on the street holding elaborate bouquets, you looked away and reminded yourself that your relationship was good, that it was solid, that you didn’t need that stuff.

And you didn’t need it. That was the thing. You wanted it, quietly and privately, but you didn’t need it. You could live without it. You’d been doing it for years.

• ───────────────── •

The first time you let something slip, it was an accident.

You were walking together through a neighborhood you didn’t visit often, on your way to a new café a coworker had recommended. It was a spring morning, sunny and cool, and you were in a good mood. Megumi walked beside you with his hands in his jacket pockets, quiet as usual, but that was comfortable. You’d learned to fill the silence when you wanted to, and to let it be when you didn’t.

You passed a small florist shop, the kind that spilled out onto the sidewalk with buckets of fresh-cut stems and greenery. The scent hit you before you even saw them—sweet and clean and a little bit heady. White lilies. Tall, elegant, their petals just beginning to open.

You made a small sound without meaning to. Something pleased.

Megumi glanced at you. “What?”

“Nothing. I just love lilies.” You gestured toward them as you walked, not breaking stride. “They smell amazing. My mom used to keep them in the house when I was a kid. I always said I’d have them everywhere when I grew up.”

He looked at the lilies, then back at you. “Why don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Seems impractical. They don’t last that long.” You shrugged. “Anyway, where’s this café supposed to be? I think we might have passed it.”

And that was it. The conversation moved on. You found the café, you ordered pastries, you argued lightly about whether the coffee was better than your usual spot. It was an ordinary morning, and you didn’t think about the lilies again.

Megumi did.

• ───────────────── •

The second time was a few weeks later, on a rainy evening after work.

You’d met up to grab dinner at a casual ramen shop, and afterward you were walking toward the station, huddled under the umbrella Megumi held. Your arm was linked through his, more for warmth than anything else, and you were in the middle of telling him about your day when you spotted it.

A chocolate shop. Not just any chocolate shop—La Maison du Chocolat, the one you’d read about in a magazine ages ago. The storefront was sleek and glowing, and through the window you could see rows of truffles in neat little lines, each one dusted or glazed or decorated like a tiny piece of art.

“Oh,” you said, pointing. “That’s the place. The really fancy one.”

Megumi followed your gaze. “Have you been?”

“No. It’s way too expensive.” You slowed down a little, just enough to get a better look at the window display. “But I’ve always been curious. They say the dark chocolate ones with the gold on top are incredible.”

He didn’t respond, but that wasn’t unusual. You kept walking, and after a moment you added, “Maybe one day. For a birthday or something.”

That was all. You didn’t stop. You didn’t stare. You just made a comment and moved on, because it wasn’t that serious. It was chocolate. It didn’t matter.

Megumi looked back once, through the rain, at the name above the door.

• ───────────────── •

The third time wasn’t about something you wanted. It was about something you felt.

You were at his apartment on a weekday evening, both of you doing your own things in the same room. Megumi was at his desk, typing something for work, and you were curled up on the couch with a book. It was a romance novel—the kind you’d normally hide or at least angle away from him—but you’d gotten too comfortable and forgotten to be self-conscious.

The scene you were reading was a love confession. The main character had written a letter. A short, simple, devastatingly earnest letter that laid out everything he’d noticed about the person he loved, all the little things he’d never said out loud. It wasn’t flowery. It wasn’t dramatic. It was just true.

You didn’t realize you were crying until a tear landed on the page.

You sniffled and wiped your face quickly, but Megumi had already turned around. He had this sixth sense for your moods, always had. He didn’t say anything, just watched you with a small furrow in his brow.

“I’m fine,” you said, before he could ask. “It’s just the book.”

“What’s happening?”

“Nothing bad. He just…” You searched for the right words. “He wrote her a letter. Telling her all the things he notices about her. The small things. And she didn’t know he was paying attention, but he was. The whole time.”

Megumi was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

He studied your face for a second longer, then turned back to his laptop. “Okay.”

You laughed a little, still blotting your eyes. “Sorry. I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly.”

He didn’t elaborate, and you didn’t push. You went back to your book, and he went back to his work, and the evening continued as it always did.

But Megumi had been paying attention. He was always paying attention. And what he’d noticed over the past several months was this: you never asked for anything. Not once. Not for flowers, not for chocolate, not for letters or grand gestures or any of the things you clearly loved. You consumed romance like it was a secret language, and you never, ever expected him to speak it.

He thought about that a lot.

And then he decided to do something about it.

• ───────────────── •

Today had been terrible, so terrible that it made you want to crawl into bed the second you got home. You’d had a long day—too many meetings, too many emails, too many tiny frustrations that added up into exhaustion. By the time you reached your apartment building, your shoulders were tight and your mind was foggy and all you wanted was to sit in silence for an hour.

You unlocked the door, stepped inside, and stopped.

Something smelled good. Floral. You couldn’t place it at first. Then you looked toward the kitchen and saw them.

White lilies. A whole bunch of them, arranged in a clear glass vase on the counter, their petals unfolding like they’d been waiting for you. They were beautiful. Simple and elegant and exactly the kind you’d pointed out weeks ago on a sunny Saturday morning.

Next to the vase was a box you recognized immediately. La Maison du Chocolat. Dark navy packaging, ivory ribbon. The exact one you’d looked at through a rainy window.

You didn’t move. You just stood in the doorway with your keys still in your hand, trying to process what you were seeing. Your brain felt slow, like it couldn’t catch up to your eyes.

Megumi was sitting on the couch, his laptop open on the coffee table. He glanced up when you came in, the same way he always did, like it was perfectly normal for there to be lilies and expensive chocolate on your kitchen counter on a random day.

“Hi,” he said.

You stared at him. Then at the flowers. Then back at him. “Did you…?”

He closed his laptop and stood. “You said you liked lilies. On the way to that café.” He walked over to where you were still frozen in the doorway. “And the chocolate place. You said you were curious about it.”

Your voice came out a little hoarse. “That was weeks ago.”

“Yeah.”

“I just mentioned it in passing. I didn’t think you’d—”

“I know.” He shrugged, just slightly. His ears were pink. “But you were so happy when you looked at them.”

You looked at the lilies again, then at the chocolate, and your throat tightened in a way that was both familiar and foreign. You’d felt this exact feeling a hundred times while reading books or watching movies, but never in real life. Never aimed at you.

“Megumi.” You swallowed hard. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to.” He said it plainly, no self-deprecation, no false modesty. Just a fact. “I wanted to.”

You didn’t know what to say. Your mind was full of things—gratitude, surprise, something that felt dangerously close to tears—but none of it made it to your mouth.

Megumi reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. It was small, just a sheet torn from a notebook, the edges a little uneven. He held it out to you.

“I’m not good at this stuff,” he said. “But I wrote something.”

You took it with careful fingers. His handwriting was neat, a little cramped. The note was short.

I love you, I hope you like this. You deserve it all and more. -M

That was it. Three sentences. Not a grand declaration, not a poetic outpouring. Just a really quiet confession.

You read it three times anyway.

When you looked up, Megumi was watching you with an expression you couldn’t quite name. He looked almost uncertain, which was rare for him. Like he wasn’t sure if he’d done enough, or if he’d done it right, or if you even wanted this at all.

“Is it okay?” he asked.

You let out a breath that was half a laugh. “Is it okay? Megumi, this is more than okay.”

His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly. “Good.”

You stepped into his space and wrapped your arms around his middle and pressed your face into the fabric of his sweater. He hugged you back without hesitation, one hand resting on your back, the other coming up to cradle the back of your head.

“Thank you,” you said, muffled against his chest.

His voice rumbled above you. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I know. But I want to.”

He didn’t argue. He just held you for a moment longer, and you let yourself be held, the scent of lilies filling the apartment around you.

When you finally pulled back, you were smiling.

“You really didn’t have to,” you said again. “I would’ve been fine without any of this.”

“I know you would have.” He met your eyes. “But you shouldn’t have to be.”

The words landed somewhere deep in your chest. You looked at him—at this boy who barely said those three words half the time, who hated attention, who never made a show of anything—and you understood, maybe for the first time, that he’d been paying attention all along, especially to the things you wanted but were too afraid to ask for.

“I didn’t think you were the type,” you admitted quietly. “For this kind of thing.”

“I’m not.” He said it without shame. “But I can try, if you want me to.”

You nodded, and there was something loosening in your chest, something you’d been holding onto for so long you’d forgotten it was there. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He glanced at the chocolate. “You want to try those? I’ve been waiting for you to get home for an hour.”

You laughed, real and genuine. “You could’ve started without me.”

“Didn’t want to.”

He opened the box with careful fingers and held it out to you. Inside, the chocolates were lined up in neat rows, each one glistening under the kitchen light. The dark chocolate one with the gold dust was right there in the corner, like he’d saved it for you on purpose.

You picked it up and bit into it. The chocolate was rich and smooth, not too sweet, with a faint bitter edge that lingered on your tongue. It was, without question, the best chocolate you’d ever eaten.

“This is absurd,” you said, your mouth still half-full. “It’s so good.”

Megumi watched you, and the corner of his mouth lifted—just a fraction, just enough that you noticed. “Good.”

You spent the rest of the evening on the couch, the box of chocolates between you and the lilies scenting the air. He ate a few of the chocolates, mostly the ones you handed him. You talked about your day, about his, about nothing in particular. It was just a casual day after all.

Except now there were lilies on the counter. A note in your pocket. And something quiet and steady settling in the space between you, something that felt a lot like being known.

Before bed, you put the lilies in the center of the table where you’d see them first thing in the morning. Megumi came up behind you while you were adjusting the vase, and he didn’t say anything. He just put his chin on your shoulder, a brief, light touch, and then went to brush his teeth.

You smiled at the flowers. You didn’t need the grand gestures, you never had. But it was nice to know that he saw that part of you, the secret romantic you’d kept hidden for so long, and didn’t think it was silly or too much or not worth the effort.

He’d noticed. He’d remembered. And in your eyes, that was its own kind of romance.

© belchyra. All rights reserved. Do not republish, translate, steal, or feed my work to AI.

[animentality]

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Is.

barbie dolls: George weasleyx gn! reader

word: 1.8k

summary: you're scared of a storm and leave his room to busy yourself in the burrow

warnings: storms, breifly mentioned that george has an ear that doesn't work, so like hinted post war but in my post war world fred is alive so, george is a heavy sleeper, you've experienced a bad storm, lwk didn't proof read it kill me damn, tiny bit of negative self talk but it's really not that bad, George is cringe okay boom

George was a heavy sleeper. You could move all of his furniture and vacuum right next to his working ear, and he would not wake up. You weren’t exactly shocked that he didn’t wake up from the thunder outside the Burrow.

The Burrow was hardly ever quiet. Even when everyone was asleep, there was always some kind of creaking or settling from the house. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the darkness. Usually, his room was so bright and warm that you never felt anything but joy. Every other day of this summer break, you woke up to the sun peeking between the orange curtains Molly made back when George was still a toddler. You could always hear birds chirping and the rustling of leaves. In the Burrow, there seemed to be a whisper of laughter at all hours of the morning. You could hear screams of joy in the backyard and tinkering in rooms downstairs. You were never the first to wake up. There was always stomping down the stairs and running through rooms. That was comforting. This house was always so alive, you never had a moment to be scared of being alone. You were warm and safe with a loving family.

That much was not true this morning.

Outside George’s window was the rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning. His room seemed frozen in time. Like the moment in a horror film where the evil is right behind the main character. You stared at the ceiling as you hoped the storm would stop now that you had rolled awake. The silhouettes of swirls and monsters covered the pale ceiling as the lighting lashed again. You could feel your heart squeezing in fear and your breath getting caught behind your teeth. You turned your head to face George.

His cheek was pressed to his pillow with his mouth parted. He was quietly snoring, exclusively because his nose was contorted into an uncomfortable position.

“George?” You whispered. A part of you wanted him to immediately wake up just from the psychological connection you had. Like somewhere in his dream, he could feel his lover uncomfortable. Another part hoped he stayed ignorant in his slumber. George continued to snore. You hummed in both approval and disappointment.

You carefully pulled yourself from his bed, tucking the blanket back around him. You hoped the warmth from your body was replaceable by the quilt. You quietly left his room.

Once you were out in the house, you felt even more alone. The storm outside seemed louder now. The twisting staircase that went straight down the house seemed to make the perfect tube to amplify the thunder. You leaned against the banister, tilting your head up. You hoped red hair would be peeking over the banister of another floor. But nothing but darkness greeted you. You slowly made your way down the stairs, careful to skip the ones that creaked. You weren’t exactly sure where you were going, but you knew you had to be moving to walk off the threat of the storm.

The first floor was even more desolate than the rest of the house. The usual tinkering of Molly’s knitting and simultaneous washing of dishes was absent. The house was too still for your liking. The kitchen was empty, apart from the unwashed dishes. You completely understood why Molly had formulated a magical way to wash them. With every head in the house generating at least three dishes a day, the sink started to overfill before the day even truly started. A flash of lightning outside the kitchen window made your eyes widen. You straightened your shoulders and turned on the sink. The storm would be here a while, and when you stop moving, the only thing you can focus on is the thunder.

It wasn’t really thunder or lightning that scared you. Those were distant things that could not reach out and hurt you. It was the strength of the storm that truly scared you. It was bad enough that it could tear apart whatever building you were in and you. It wasn’t entirely impossible either. You had already experienced sitting alone in a house as it was torn apart by a storm. Although that time it was mostly exterior damage. You were never harmed, but the fear still settled inside your stomach.

You weren’t horrified by it either. You weren’t exactly rocking back and forth in tears. It was more just an extreme discomfort that you couldn’t sit through. It was easier to handle with other people around you, but you weren’t going to wake George. He was soundly asleep, and you could handle it on your own. As you were doing now. Doing just about anything pulls your focus to the task rather than the storm. Which gave you much less guilt than waking up George. If you did, he’d be quite tired tomorrow. Although tomorrow would really be today, as it wasn’t truly the night anymore. You weren’t sure he’d be much comfort anyway. If you woke him properly, he’d be kind and gentle. But George was the type of sleeper who could have an entire conversation in his sleep. He’d just half wake up and tug you back into bed. He’d be no more comforting than a brick.

You flicked the water off your hands as you placed the final mug onto the absurdly large drying rack. Now the issue was finding what else to do. Cleaning was beneficial to everyone. So you could clean, but in the Weasley home, nothing was truly clean. Everything seemed to be covered in clutter. Loved clutter, but clutter nonetheless.

You wandered into the living room and began by folding the throw blankets. You replaced the few strewn about books onto their home shelves. A few picked up so much dust that you sneezed. You found a half-full glass of water on one of the side tables. You groaned quite loudly before remembering some people were still trying to catch a few hours of sleep. You still hated whoever left it there. And you hated that now you had more dishes to clean. You ignored it as you set it in the sink. It took much less time than you expected to finish the living room.

By the time you finished cleaning off the table, you had worked up a bit of a sweat. You had completely forgotten about the real reason you had left George’s bed. You even cleaned all the extra dishes you found when cleaning. Though you grumbled the whole time.

You flung yourself onto the couch as you looked out the window. The sun was just barely peeking over the horizon. The storm was still rumbling, but it was much calmer now than it was before. The sky was now an odd sort of orange-gray that you didn’t particularly like. You startled at the sound of shuffling footsteps. You looked up to see Molly in a patchwork housecoat. Her hair was wild, framing her face with a mess of tangles. She paused at the sight of you, raising a brow.

“Morning, darling.” She mumbled, glancing out the window to check the time. You awkwardly waved.

“I couldn’t sleep with the storm.” You explained. Though now that it had settled down, you felt a bit ridiculous saying that. I couldn’t sleep because of the drizzle.

“It was actually much louder and heavier earlier, but it’s-”

“Where’s George?” Molly asked, turning her head to look behind herself. Your eyebrows shot up at the extra-large knot at the back of her hair. You wondered if she always woke up like this or if tonight was a particularly bad night for her.

“Oh, he’s asleep,” you answered. She snapped her head around, her hair swinging around.

“You didn’t wake him?” Molly asked. You shook your head.

“I didn’t want to bother him.” You muttered. Your face was starting to feel a little too tight and warm for your comfort. Molly pressed her lips into a tight line and hummed. She glanced around the living room, noticing the folded blankets.

“Did you clean?” She asked, picking at the lint on top of a chair. You nodded.

“I couldn’t sit still with the thunder, so I picked up a little. I washed the dishes and stuff, so don’t worry about that.” You answered. Molly grumbled. You furrowed your brows, wondering what could be frustrating her.

“That’s very sweet, my dear. Though next time, you should wake someone to keep you company. I wouldn’t mind, I actually enjoy storms. It would be better for your energy.” Molly’s tone was soft, not reprimanding. You frowned.

“Well, I just wanted to make myself useful.” You countered. Molly shook her head, looking into the kitchen.

“You’re useful without working yourself to the bone. You'd best head upstairs and catch the last few hours of sleep before breakfast.” She said, jutting her head towards the stairs. You didn’t bother arguing with her; you had seen her scold Ron before, and that was a fire you did not want to play with. Just as you thought you were in the clear, she called your name. You paused on your step, turning to face her.

“And wake George up, Merlin’s sake,” Molly muttered before walking to the kitchen. You nodded and started your trek up the stairs.

By the time you finally reached George’s door again, the storm was a distant worry. George did not lift his head at the sound of you opening the door. You didn’t bother closing it quietly. He would sleep through it. You pulled at the blankets, tucking yourself under them. You shoved George’s shoulder, making him tip onto his back. He stirred finally, peeking his eyes open. You patted his face to wake him up more. George lifted his head off the bed, rubbing at his eye.

“Breakfast?” he slurred. You shook your head.

“The storm woke me up.” You explained. George whined, pulling you closer to him. He pressed your head to his chest.

“I’ll drink all the rain, it won’t get you,” George muttered. You scoffed.

“You suck at this.” George petted your head. He shushed you like you were being petulant.

“Shsh- I’ll protect you, don’t worry.” He whispered in your ear. You rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. George snorted. He craned his neck to press a pathetic excuse for a kiss to your forehead.

“See, made you laugh. Can’t be scared when you’re laughing.” George mumbled, dropping his head back onto his pillow.

“That’s not true.” You said, lifting your head to glance down at him.

“Is,” George answered, before definitely falling asleep. You sighed, laying your head back down and realizing he might be partially right. You were still grinning, and there wasn’t any fear left rolling in your stomach.

[rainedravens]

"holy shit they finally confessed, what comes next--"

[mullermilkshake]

Praise the hard work

Part 1 <- -> Part 2

When there's aid to help the country after the loss on Jeju Island, Jinwoo takes things up a notch.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader

I just finished S2 and I had to write something dark for Jinwoo, I am so in love with this man it hurts. I have only seen up to the anime and haven't read anything further from the manhwa so please no spoilers thank you! <3 MILD SPOLERS? I don't know. If you haven't watched the anime, you might wanna go watch it if you want nothing spoiled from the last arc.

Tags- Yandere!,Solo levelling AU,Mentions of Breeding,Snatching kids away,Jinwoo's villan arc,Killing,Murder,Blood and violence

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EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

“Ah, Hunter Sung, glad you could finally make it.”

Jinwoo could have made it in time, but he preferred to level up one more time. The S-Rank gate turned red, his time was stretched as thin as he made it in truth. 

Realistically, he wanted some peace and quiet for an hour before the dungeon boss. Meetings like this were rarely interesting or exciting enough to keep his attention.

Though what made him attend altogether was you. A recently awakened Mage type S-Rank hunter, gentle in temperament most of the time with an ability that was truly remarkable. It even put Jinwoo’s shadow exchange to shame without a cooldown.

You had so much potential that Jinwoo wanted to explore. 

He stepped inside the meeting room and took up a seat opposite from you, your expression flustered and exasperated. A beautiful display of the rosiness of your cheeks and agitated biting of your bottom lip to set the tone. Next to you was Hunter Choi, a man who everyone knew was entirely devoted to you and totally besotted with you in the little time since you had awakened. Everyone but you seemed to notice.

Jinwoo noticed immediately before anyone else. Hunter Choi seemed to take notice of Jinwoo’s judgement as well. An unspoken rule between the two and no one ever mentioned it, because speaking out about it made it real, and Jinwoo kept his disinterest verbal to the good of the association and respective guilds.

The chairman cleared his throat and perched himself back down into his seat, lacing his fingers together as though in prayer whilst he hid behind his softened smile. “I’ll give Hunter Sung a brief run down and we’ll continue our discussion.” He raised his hand up to dismiss you before you could utter a syllable. “Please. After I have briefed him. I’d like to hear all of your thoughts afterwards.”

“Hunter Sung.”

“Yes, Chairman?” 

Jinwoo was curious now, what could make you want to interrupt and sweat bullets? You ignored Choi’s not-so-subtle exchanges to gain your attention and rather looked to Jinwoo instead. Was that for comfort? Or a glare to get him on side to understand the absurdity about to inevitably leave Chairman Go’s lips? Either way, Jinwoo welcomed the glassiness from your eyes and helpless look across your face.

“Since Jeju Island, Korea has only welcomed one new S-Rank hunter awakening in the last year. And with no A or B-ranks awakening, it is up to the hunters association to put counter measures in place to secure the safety and protection of this country.”

So far he was making sense, yet why was there a ‘but’ coming with it? “Yes, it is, sir.”

“We must take every conceivable option to prevent dungeon breaks and secure the safety of the people… So we are putting forward a programme, a fall back plan if you will to try and awaken more hunters in the coming years.”

“Okay…” Where is he going with this? Nothing's been reported on forced awakenings, and when people do awaken, it's rare enough as it is. 

He shot you a glance and saw that your expression was unchanged, hardened, desperate. Just what was going through your mind right now?

“We would like to get as many hunters who are of age to participate in a programme for pairings to procreate in order to give this country the highest chance for more higher rank hunters awakening.”

The room’s silence weighed on each hunter's head, they all lowered, some more than others. Hunter Cha’s head mimicked your own, though Hunter’s Choi and Baek seemed only to bow their own in respect to you and Cha.

“So…” Jinwoo adjusted his position and tapped his fingertips on the table to break the long pause. “You want hunters to have children in the hope they awaken as hunters themselves?”

“Yes.”

Okay, well this meeting just got way more interesting. 

“But, how will you pair them, is it-”

“It’s randomized via a written code we’re developing for the best chances. This won't just be S and A-Rank hunters, we hope that lower rank hunters will participate too, if we get lucky their children may awaken with higher ranks than their parents. Though that being said, this will be an international effort.”

Jinwoo held his breath, it wasn’t just Korea doing this. “Japan is participating too?”

The chairman nodded with his usual air that humbled those in front of him. “They lost many S-Rank hunters too, we must all work together to bring our dwindling numbers up.”

So, if Jinwoo agreed and this went ahead, there was a chance he could be paired with you? He’d agree immediately, but would allow you to speak so that you felt heard. Jinwoo would give a little pushback to appear part of the resistance, but the thought of potentially getting to sleep with you in the name of ‘protecting the country’ he’d do that in a heartbeat.

Something he'd been fantasising about for a while.

You happened to intrigue Jinwoo more so than he originally first thought and being able to rub the fact in Hunter Choi’s face that he’d seen you naked and touched your body in ways that man had only dreamed of, well, how could he say no? Just the thought of your body under his in the name of science when it was bliss for him drove him crazy enough to keep it hidden. 

The pregnant pause was enough to set you off, you stood up to get your point across. “Chairman Go, please reconsider this- there’s barely any research to ever suggest that this will even work, it’ll put us out of commission for years, at least until those children come of age. That's if they even inherit anything from us- you won’t see any results at least for two decades and that’s even if any of them awaken. We need a plan for right now. Our country has already lost four S-Rank hunters to Jeju island last year and we’ve never recovered.”

You would have been the eleventh S-Rank hunter to awaken after Jinwoo had the others not perished.

“No, just nine months. After birth, we’ll take the children to a facility where they’ll receive care expected from children of ranked hunters to allow you to resume your duties in your guilds-”

“So ripping children from their mother’s arms is the right solution? I’m not about to be some broodmare, I refuse to participate.”

Hunter Choi adjusted his glasses and touched your arm as though he wanted to soothe you, but it was just a lame attempt to show his bullshit side to pander to you. Like that would get you interested in him. All it did was was make Jinwoo's eye twitch.

“I think we should maybe take the voluntary approach, Chairman Go. While I understand the importance of this initiative, it’ll take numerous hunters who would normally make their living during the raids unable to participate in them.” He spoke your name with a fondness. “I understand where she’s coming from, there’s nothing to suggest that two S-Rank hunters could reproduce and gain another S-Rank hunter in the process and in numerous cases, I don't think there's enough evidence in the last ten years to go on with certainty. And how will those who participate be compensated? Especially if the baby doesn’t awaken?”

Chairman Go nodded along to the concerns, “I understand those concerns, that’s why we’re going to provide living quarters and cover costs the entire time from conception to birth, if hunters want to keep and raise their own children, they can, but if taken to the facility, the children will be cared for whether they awaken or not. They will become wards of the state and given considerable opportunities for their service, the hunter parents can try again or be compensated for their efforts too.”

Fucking most days, impregnating and then trying again whilst also being able to still resume his duties as a hunter? Jinwoo was tempted. For the country of course.

“Well, I’m not doing it.” You said, sitting down in a slump, looking at your shoes away form the audience.

Hunter Baek rubbed his chin and huffed with a gruff exhale. “I… I’m not sure how I feel about this. It will be voluntary, right?”

Chairman Go nodded, “It is, for now, but if all of the countries listed to trial this agree, then we’ll have no choice but to participate.”

You gasped, it caught Jinwoo’s attention. Hunter Cha said nothing, holding her handkerchief to her nose and avoiding gazes from everyone in the room.

Jinwoo requested more security before he agreed, hoping it would serve your nerves before the inevitable. “Chairman Go, please make me understand. Will this really help us?"

“We strongly believe so.”

He feigned conflict, agitation to his words. Yet inside, he was excited to begin. “I’m not sure either, but if it’s compulsory, we should at least get to choose who we’re with, right?”

“Jinwoo.. Please don’t tell me you’re okay with this?” Were you about to cry? Your eyes were glassy enough.

“I’m not saying I am, but if the government makes it law, we’ll have no choice. But we can make it as painless as possible with our own demands, isn’t that right, Chairman?”

The Chairman shuffled though kept his solid gaze to hide his uncomfortable position. “Well… unfortunately, that’s why we have agreed to use a code to define suitability based on abilities and temperament. I cannot allow pairings by choice, I trust you understand?”

“This is ridiculous… Jong-In, Yoonho…” Your eyes begged Cha to say something. “Hae-In… Please say something- someone say something.”

Nothing.

“I assume we’re in a majority rule then?” The Chairman stood and his smile returned. “I appreciate the valiant, hard work you will do for our country. We’ll return here in a week once we have more information and will determine the lottery of who is paired with who. We’ll trial run S and B-Ranks first whilst A-Ranks take on the majority of the gates, and then we’ll take on A and lower rank hunters and all who want to participate.”

After the Chairman left, you shot out of your seat to leave, Choi took your wrist to hold your exit. “Wait a second, we should talk about this together-”

“We had the opportunity to talk about it thirty seconds ago, Jong-In, and you said nothing. None of you said anything. We’re putting the country at risk and we have little protection as it is and now me and Cha and every other person who can carry a child are being used as cattle while you three just sit there with no changes to your lives. Some hunters you are.”

Jinwoo watched you leave with magnetism. You fought for what you deemed was right, but that assertiveness- no, that helplessness. You hid it as trying to be assertive, but Jinwoo saw right through it. He wanted to see more of those raw emotions, preferably in a bedroom, with your clothes off.

Baek called after you when you left and ran his hand through his hair. “Shit. Stay here, I’ll go after her-”

“No.” Hunter Choi held out his hand. “Let her go, she’ll need time to cool off. I’ll go and see her later, maybe we can come up with a plan in the meantime.”

Jinwoo got up from his seat and decided to call it a day, despite Choi being clingy and trying to get back into your good graces, he had a point. He’d let him have that for now.

“Hunter Sung, you’re leaving?”

“Uh, yeah, there’s not much else I need to discuss. But I do have another gate to get through today, I was just stopping by in between raids.” Jinwoo left without another word, taking in the information and your reaction proved more than just a light conversation.

Chairman Go had a point, who was Jinwoo to defy it? If he could still level up and attend S-Rank gates, what more could change? You were right, nothing much would change, only that someone would be sleeping with you now until you got pregnant.

That’s what would change. Jinwoo wanted to be the one to do it.

Six days later, it was all Jinwoo could think about, the changes, the expectations and the possibility that Jinwoo could be paired with someone other than you.

There’s an odd number of S-Ranks so someone will be left out. Their workload will be doubled, but with there only being two women, two pairs will be decided tomorrow. 

Jinwoo had to be one of them. So in order to make that happen, Jinwoo attended headquarters to ask some questions.

“I’m sorry Hunter Sung, but I can’t divulge who is being paired with who, it’s confidential until we make the announcement later today.”

Well that wasn’t convenient. “Listen, I don’t think it’s that hard to get the answers up, do you? It’s not a test to pass, so just tell me and I can be on my way.”

The man by the computer in the little cramped room he hid in, trembled under Jinwoo’s aura, eyes wide at Igris stepping into reality. Jinwoo didn’t need him to threaten the man, but it sped the process up without killing him. He didn't really want to do that if he could help it.

Jinwoo bent down to him in his chair, his aura flowing more violently like a flickering flame in his eyes. “And I’d hurry up if I were you… I’m growing impatient.”

“I- I can’t, I’m sorry! I’m under strict instructions from Chairman Go, I just know that you've been added with the pairings, but I can’t tell you who because it’s computer generated, they’ll know if I look before it’s time, I have to use my fingerprint to even access it!”

Jinwoo wouldn’t give him a second chance if he kept the whiny baby act up, it was crucial to know. “Open it, now.”

“N-no…” Before he could blink, Jinwoo stabbed his dagger through his chest to avoid exaggerated blood splatter.

“Arise.” Before his body even hit the ground, the man’s shadow split away and stood there, billowing by the computer and ready to do as he was told. 

“Now… Do I have to ask you again?”

The shadow shook its head and turned to the computer, running it’s fingertips over the little scanner tucked away to pull up the file. Nifty. And just as expected, Jinwoo had been partnered with Cha, and-

“Not cool, man.” Hunter Choi’s name sat right under yours. “Change it. Swap them around so Cha is with Choi. They’ll be happy with each other.” 

Igris shot Jinwoo a look, he knew what that look meant, a ‘you can’t be serious’ type stare. 

“What? It’s the only way to keep her close to me. I can’t miss this opportunity-” A notification popped up in Jinowoo’s view. “Well, look at that.”

Your one year side quest has arrived. ??? Failure to complete the quest will result in and appropriate penalty. 

“I better get on with this then, Who knows what the penalty will be…” So, Jinwoo had a year to get you pregnant and have a child to show for it. Seemed simple enough.

The only thing delaying the inevitable was you.

But Jinwoo would change your mind easily, you only had to let him into your life properly.

Part 1 <- -> Part 2

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[lokissweater]

you noticed me ⚾︎

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: megumi fushiguro is one of the best players on the major league baseball team, and when you finally spot him on the big screen after practically dozing off at every game you went to with your girl friend? you were absolutely IN LOVE, but IN DENIAL that he could ever like you back… but he does, and bad.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, NASTY NASTY MEGUMI, oral sex, SMUT, pussy eating in locker rooms HEH, mentions of drinking but like tiny just once, reader is oblivious to the way megumi wants her, DOMINANT AF MEGUMI PHEWW, cursing, flufffff!!, barely any angst, DIRTY TALK, pet names, aged up characters.

word count: 12.1k (IK IM SORRY ITS A CUTE ONE THO)

authors note: you GUYSSSS i love megumi fushiguro i want him so bad and i LOOVEEE this fic!! i worked like a little worker bee for days and i really hope it makes you guys happy :] MWAH!!

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・

megumi fushiguro was the hottest baseball player you had ever seen in your life.

and you didn’t even like baseball to begin with, dozing off at every game your girl friend dragged you to because her boyfriend was on the major league team— but the one time you decided to open your eyes and pay attention to the big giant screen in front of you?

there he was in all of his emo glory.

number eighteen.

focused, half lidded eyes resembling borderline boredom as he waited for the pitcher to throw, his forehead glistening with sweat, flushed red cheeks, and his jet black hair slightly peeking over his forehead from underneath his baseball cap.

“my god—” your hand flew and you gripped your girl friends arm tightly, your jaw to the fucking floor as your eyes were gorilla glued to the screen, her quirking a curious eyebrow at you as she matched your frantic nature.

“what? what is it? who did you see? whats happ—”

you pointed your finger up at the screen, him swinging and hitting a fucking grand slam as he proceeded to get four runs with one hit, the one thing you knew about baseball besides a home run.

“that’s a— that’s a grand slam!” you pointed frantically, probably looking absolutely insane as you stood and screamed your fucking head off.

your girl friend laughed loudly, “you like fushiguro? megumi fushiguro?”

you jumped up and down, your girlfriend astonished and laughing as this was the first time she’d ever seen you energetic at a baseball game.

“he’s friends with yuji!” she yelled over the hollering of the crowd. “we can go to their locker room after and you can say hi! i heard he’s kind of mean though—”

“no!” you spun around, eyes wide and terrified. “i already know he’ll eat me alive then! i’m a loser, i can’t talk to him i don’t have game i—”

she rolled her eyes. “you’ll be fine—”

“no i can’t!” you shook your head frantically. “please he looks like the type to love bomb me and then leave me i don’t think i can handle that—”

she snorted. “are you sure?!”

you hesitated for a moment, biting your bottom lip as your eyes trailed back over to the screen, seeing megumi breathing a little heavy from running the field, his hands on his hips as he scanned the arena.

you sighed through your nose. “yeah i’m sure!”

“suit yourself!”

a year. a year you spent continuing to tag along with your girl friend to their games, staring lovesick and sad at the big screen over megumi, and standing outside far far away from the locker room once they scored another big win and not going in like you used to, waiting for your girl friend to finish up speaking to her boyfriend as you tried your best to avoid the chance of running into megumi.

she finally emerged from the locker rooms one day, a knowing smirk on her face.

“i told yuji.”

you blinked. “told him what?”

“that you like fushiguro.”

“no!” you gasped, a hand flying and smacking over your mouth. “please no im about to experience the biggest heartbreak of my life—”

“oh relax!” she grabbed your arm and practically dragged you towards the locker room doors. “he’s not even here megumi already left, but yuji wants to talk to you.”

“why?!” you exclaimed. “to let me down easy? to tell me he’s sorry on his behalf—”

your girl friend just about threw you in and went in after you as you stumbled, eyes blown wide as the air became humid and heavy, several of the players lounging about and refreshing themselves as the sound of lockers slamming shut echoed through the space— deep, broad voices laughing filling the room as yuji spotted you, his eyes friendly and polite. “y/n!”

you relaxed and smiled, “hi! you guys played really well today!”

“megumi also played really well today.”

“oh my god—” you groaned, throwing your head back as you spun around, heading straight for the exit.

“wait wait!” he laughed loudly, jogging up to you. “sorry sorry.”

“what do you want with me..” you mumbled.

he gave you a half smile. “i wanted to tell you that megumi’s weird.”

you snorted, “elaborate please.”

yuji threw an arm around your girl friend before continuing.

“you know we support your feelings and what you want…” he began.

your eyes narrowed. “why are you guys talking to me like you’re my parents—”

“but—” yuji cut you off. “i’m just gonna be straight with you. i’ve never ever seen megumi interact with anyone, let alone another woman, besides the team.”

“i don’t think i’ve ever seen him have a proper conversation with anyone on the team besides you actually…” your girl friend muttered to yuji.

yuji winced. “yeah…” he turned back to you. “back when megumi and i first got signed, he was really popular and a lot of girls would come up to him after games for his number or just to talk to him.”

“well obviously he’s a greek god,” you grumbled. “this is hurting me man get to the point.”

he sighed. “he basically scared all of them off. didn’t give a single one a chance and was kinda mean... he would either ignore them or straight up just tell them he wasn’t interested without them even being able to get a word in.”

you stared blankly.

“i tried to tell him that he needs to be nicer but he’s just not interested.”

you kept staring.

“that’s why i’m telling you this because we don’t want you to get hurt and i feel like if you try and talk to him he’s gonna be a dick and it might…” yuji looked at you sadly. “it might be a lost cause.”

you blinked.

“y/n?”

“that’s fine!” you squeaked, hands tight at your sides. “a part of me already knew. i read about it in an article, and i’ve seen his interviews.”

your girl friend looked at you with concern filled eyes. “are you okay?”

“yeah!” you waved them off. “why wouldn’t i be?”

“because your eyes are red.”

“ppffttt!” you blew out. “i’m fine! seriously. i never intended to talk to him anyways, i’m too much of a scaredy cat.”

you extended your arms out and engulfed the both of them, squeezing tight. “thank you guys for telling me though, i appreciate it.”

“y/n…” yuji trailed off.

“i’m gonna take off though, i’ll see you guys later, okay?” you waved and opened the door. “love you!”

and you scrammed, your heart in a million pieces.

it’s not like you didn’t already know. you knew, so why were you sad? why did you feel like you just got ran over by a double decker bus? why did you pathetically feel so sad?

this was the reality. you never stood a chance.

so why were you crying?

you continued walking down the hall and towards the main exit, utterly embarrassed at your sobbing and trying your best to hide it as you navigated through several groups of people, your vision entirely blurry as you were basically drowning in your tears.

you had barely escaped the crowd when you spotted a little secluded area in the lobby, trudging over pathetically and plopping down on the coushy seat as you wiped your cheeks, staring at the wall in front of you— a huge glass casing proudly decorated with the teams trophies and awards, gigantic portraits of the players on the team adorning the walls with megumi’s serious beautiful framed face right in front of you just making you feel worse.

you already knew, but regardless of megumi’s stand off ish personality, you liked it. you had curiously browsed his interviews and quotes in articles, and you always laughed at his responses, him almost every time offending the staff without even trying or knowing, and you found it so so funny, it only making you admire him and want to get to know him even more, even if it was just a friendship.

megumi fushiguro was one of the best players on the team in history, and as you closed your eyes, silent pathetic tears still slipping down your cheeks?

he never felt so out of reach.

“here.”

your eyes opened, but you literally could not see jack shit as your tears were still blurring your line of sight, you completely and utterly mortified that a stranger caught you sobbing as you wiped your face quickly in response.

“put on my sunglasses if you don’t want people to see you crying.”

the voice was gruff and lazy, but you could not care less as you took the sunglasses and settled them over your eyes, the lenses so freaking dark that you couldn’t see a single thing— your sight worse than before.

but it relieved you, as you figured no one could see your bloodshot eyes and therefore thankfully not notice you losing your mind over something so stupid.

“thank you,” you mumbled. “sorry.”

“for what.”

you felt the plush of the bench shift next to you, figuring that the stranger man sat beside you as you refused to look in their direction out of embarrassment.

not that you could even see in the first place.

“for looking like a loser.”

the stranger man snorted. “s’fine.”

you wiped your nose with your sleeve, sniffling.

“how do you see in these?” you muttered softly. “they’re making me claustrophobic i can’t see a thing.”

“that’s the point,” he hums.

“how come?”

“i get migraines everyday. they help.”

“oh i see.” you responded softly. “have you ever run into a wall because of them?”

you hear him huff out through his nose. “i did once, when i first got them.”

you giggled gently. “did you bleed?”

“no,” he spoke calmly. “i got a bump on my forehead.”

you snickered, “what? loserrr.”

you stood up and carefully tried to walk around a little, testing out how to guide yourself through the dark lenses and trying to be careful and not bump into a wall (which was literally impossible), your hands out, feeling around.

“jesus christ i’m just kidding now i feel bad. i think im gonna bump myself into a wall too so we can call it even.”

you couldn’t see, but the stranger man’s lips twitched at your comment.

“don’t do that.” he murmured. “sit back down.”

you listened and started making your way over, feeling him reach out and wrap his fingers around your wrist carefully and guide you to the bench, you plopping down on it once you felt it.

“thank you!” you responded sweetly. “…i’m actually glad i can’t see a thing right now.” you perked up, pushing the sunglasses back up over the bridge of your nose.

“why is that.”

“so i don’t have to look at megumi fushiguro’s big portrait in front of my face.”

the stranger man stopped.

“…why?”

“because he indirectly broke my heart.”

you heard a little audible laugh, and you smiled to yourself.

at least someone is having fun right now.

“how did he indirectly break your heart?”

“my girl friend’s boyfriend is yuji itadori. she spilled the beans against my will about how i have a crush on him, and yuji told me that he’s mean and he’ll basically bite my head off and tell me to scram.”

“did he?”

“uh huh,” you nodded. “they were trying to let me down easy, but it’s not like i was gonna try and talk to him anyways. i’ve gone a year without saying anything i can go on and on and on.”

the stranger man hummed.

“he’s so cool though…” you murmured, dazed. “he’s gonna be a hard one to forget about.”

“why do you like him?”

“i feel like im being interrogated,” you giggled.

you felt the stranger man lean back against the wall. “sorry, just curious.”

you copied him and crossed your arms, “mmm… because he’s really good at what he does. i admire that most of all.”

you tilted your head. “everyone berates him for being mean but i like that he’s supposedly mean for some reason…. he’s just serious about his profession and he doesn’t want to waste time. he’s also the hottest man i’ve ever seen so that definitely helps.”

the stranger man laughed a little.

“i don’t know,” you sighed sadly. “maybe i’m just demented. i am demented.”

“if yuji itadori told you the exact opposite about him, would that have encouraged you to go up to him?”

you sat in thought for a moment, but ultimately shook your head. “no. it’s too embarrassing for me and i’m also a big fat wuss so…”

you slid your fingers underneath the lenses and rubbed your stinging sore eyes. “maybe in the next life if i’m lucky, ill be reincarnated as a cool baseball man too and i won’t have to deal with this shit.”

“cool baseball man.” he repeated, tone seemingly amused.

“yup.”

the stranger man sighed. “is this why i found you crying?”

“maayybeee?” you dragged out shyly, your cheeks flushing.

it was silent for a moment, your vision completely black but his on your rosy cheeks, oddly staring that if you could see right now, you’d probably call him a creep.

“i’m sorry i made you cry.”

you jumped back.

“no not you!” you huffed. “have you not been paying attention? catch up man—”

you felt a shadow reach up and tug the sunglasses slightly away from your face, your eyes constricting against the bright lights of the hall as they tried to adjust.

and when they did?

megumi fushiguro was sitting right next to you, a tiny smile on his face dressed in all black with his teams baseball cap on.

your eyes widened dramatically and you slapped both hands over your mouth, beyond horrified as everything you had thought you were telling a stranger about him, you were telling him directly, your brain short circuiting and your body heating up like a fucking hot flash.

“oh my god i’m so sorry!” your voice was muffled, you shaking your head in absolute denial.

you immediately sprung up and grabbed your purse, slowly backing up further and further away from him.

his smile widened.

oh my god.

megumi fushiguro was smiling, a sight you’ve never ever seen during his games, practices, interviews, articles, or magazines as your cheeks increased in shade— wanting to mentally take a picture and remember forever as you knew you’d probably never see him smile like that again.

but he was smiling.

“pretend i don’t exist!” you stammered, “pretend this never happened i’m sorry this is so embarrassing keep winning your games okay and i’ll keep being an idiot far far away from you—”

“where are you going?” he chuckled lowly.

“—you’ll never see me again i’m going home and i’m going on lockdown—”

he laughed through his nose, his lips in an amused smile.

“you don’t have to do that.”

“yes i do—”

“you don’t have to forget me either.”

“that i definitely do—”

you were halfway out of the main entrance doors.

“hold on y/n—”

megumi stood, his long legs walking over to you and you froze.

y/n?

you slowly turned around, your face pale and afraid.

“how do you know my name?” you asked softly.

“your best friend is dating yuji, is she not.”

you nodded, eyes blank.

“i’ve been seeing you inside the locker room after our games for like… two years.” megumi mumbled.

oh.

oh that’s right.

you didn’t actually notice megumi until last year, when you decided to finally open your eyes for once during a game and that’s how you spotted him for the first time on the big screen in front of you, in all of his gorgeous handsome entity.

“oh.”

he raised a hand and pressed his index finger to your forehead, nudging you softly.

“dummy.”

“s-sorry..” you gave him a wobbly bashful smile, your cheeks pinky as you rubbed your red eyes.

his eyes slightly softened and he shook his head. “s’fine.”

megumi continued to stare at you, a stone cold face that always seemed to scare off the teams entire fan base, but only made you feel numb and giddy all over every single time.

you smiled wider then, and megumi’s lips twitched.

cute.

“i’m— i’m gonna go now.”

“do you have a ride home?”

you stopped. “no i was just gonna call an uber—”

he shook his head and walked past you, his shoulder brushing gently with yours with his hands stuffed in his pockets as you turned and stared at him.

he paused and looked over his shoulder.

“you coming?”

your eyes widened. “coming? w—where?”

he rolled his eyes. “i’m taking you home.”

“no!” you shot your hands out. “it’s okay! really! thank you thank you i appreciate it but—”

he stared lazily.

“come.”

you pressed your lips into a thin line and tipped your head down, taking tiny painful steps as you followed after him to the parking lot.

megumi led you from the public parking area to a secluded section around the back of the arena, one you assumed was for players and crew members only as you nervously gnawed on your bottom lip, feeling absolutely sick.

you both continued to walk down until you arrived to a private parking garage, megumi slipping out his keys from the pocket of his hoodie as you approached a shiny black luxurious car sitting neatly in a spot.

his car was really fucking nice, and you figured so being as he was one of the most popular players and probably had more than enough money in the bank— your fingers trembling as you gripped the passenger side door, settling yourself inside his plush cool leather seats and all black interior.

megumi pressed the ‘start’ button and his engine roared to life, the motor echoing through the structure as you clumsily tried to put on your seatbelt, your cheeks growing pinker with each passing second that you just couldn’t get the stupid damn thing to— click—

he reached over across the console and took the seatbelt from you, pulling it over your body and clicking it secure without a word.

“thank you.” you said softly, eyes trained to your lap.

megumi gave you a small nod and backed out of his parking space, driving around a couple of rows before making his way out with the night air softly breezing through your hair as he drove, his dash illuminated with blue lines that ran smoothly across.

“can you put your address in—”

“oh yeah!” you jumped. “sorry—”

you reached over and tapped in your address on his big touch screen, watching the way the gps registered the location and gave him the estimated time of arrival.

forty fucking minutes.

“megumi..”

his eyes looked over at you for a second before turning back to the road.

“hm?”

“i live kinda far from here and i don’t want you to drive the opposite way from where you live.”

you leaned a little, eyebrows pinched. “i can take an uber seriously, this is too much trouble i—”

“you’re already in my car.” he deadpanned.

“i’ll jump out.”

he pursed his lips, trying to suppress a smile.

“i have child lock on.”

“child lock?!” you gawked. “is this what you think of me?”

“you’re a little helpless… and you’re a crybaby.” he mumbled. “child lock stays on.”

you giggled after, your eyes shining and filled with mushy feelings for him as you nodded. “you’re probably right.”

he looked over at you then, and he smiled, softly.

“what do you do?”

you fidgeted. “h—huh?”

“do you um…” he ran his thumb over the top of his gear shift. “do you work? do you go to school?”

he’s asking you?

“i go to school!” you responded shyly but kind. “i go to a college that’s about fifteen minutes from your stadium. i usually go and meet up with my best friend after class if there’s a game.”

he hummed. “are you a big baseball person?”

you grimaced.

do you lie? do you tell the truth? do you roll down his window and attempt to jump out of the car that way?

you played with a strand of your hair. “i— i um—”

he raised an eyebrow.

“i— don’t?”

he cocked his head. “you don’t?”

you shook your head no, completely ashamed of who you are as a person as you covered your eyes.

“i knoww i suuucckkk,” you whined. “the only things i know about baseball are home runs and grand slams— which you did!”

you pointed at him excitedly. “last year! i remember you hit a grand slam! i got so excited that for once i knew what the fuck was going on and why everyone was going crazy…”

you fiddled with your fingers nervously, your eyes trained to the road. “i felt so included.”

he chuckled, and unexpectedly, reached over and gently ruffled your hair.

you then stared at him as he did so, doe eyes wide and cheeks pink.

megumi was truly just beautiful— his smooth face that didn’t have a single blemish on his skin shining under the moonlight, his black spiky hair peeking from under his cap that you had no doubt in your mind was soft and velvety.

you hated that you’d probably do anything for that man.

“i’m sorry i made you cry,” he repeated, you recognizing his words from before.

your eyebrows furrowed.

he was still thinking about that?

you shook your head furiously, “you didn’t! i swear it’s okay. i’m just crazy.”

he huffed out a laugh.

megumi thought you were odd, but in a good way. he thought everything you did was a little funny, as you were jumpy and clumsy and a crybaby and helpless, but he also took note of how polite you were. he noticed how considerate you were of him even though you were really upset, and you were kind of sweet… really sweet actually, your personality something that was totally different from the usual girls that came up to him.

well, the usual girls that used to come up to him back when he first started.

megumi pulled into your driveway and shifted the gear into park, the doors automatically unlocking.

you opened the door and stepped out before leaning down and peeking your head in.

“thank you for the ride!” you said sweetly, a cute smile on your face. “i’m sorry you had to listen to my confession against your will.”

he shook his head. “it’s alright.”

you went in to close the door.

“y/n.”

you leaned back down, “yeah?”

“are you gonna stop coming to our games?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, your eyes darting around the interior of his car nervously.

“i— i don’t think so.”

“good.”

megumi watched you close his door and walk back a bit, him shifting his gear into reverse as the corners of his lips turned a tiny bit upwards.

“i’ll see you then.”

as you watched him pull out and drive away, his engine roaring down the street, you could not stop or simmer down the way your heart raced against your chest, so much so that you were afraid it was going to burst through your chest and literally kill you.

the next time you went to a game, you hadn’t told your close girl friend yet as she led you through the crowd and down to the v.i.p. lower level seats like always, a kind courtesy of yuji’s that he did whenever he could.

as you watched, you embarrassingly spotted megumi almost the minute you arrived, stars and hearts in your eyes as you watched him do his thing and work magic through the field with his absolutely insane batting, strong and purposeful as he barked orders or observed the opposing team for leads.

once his and the opposing team switched sides, megumi looked up as he jogged, his eyes seemingly scanning the v.i.p. front sections until he spotted you.

he raised a hand and gave you a little wave, and your eyes widened as you timidly, hesitantly, gave him one in return— your cheeks turning pink.

“who are you waving at?”

your girl friend pressed a cheek against yours and looked.

“who is- fushiguro?!”

you looked at her sheepishly.

as you recounted the story to her, her eyes bulging out of her sockets and screaming her head off every two seconds, her head snapped to the field.

“i have to tell yuji—”

“no!” you gripped her shoulders. “it’s literally nothing! he drove me home and he probably just feels bad for me.”

“megumi isn’t the type to make a crying girl feel better or drive her home.”

“it’s because he knows that we know yuji.”

“mm i don’t think so..” she scowled, crossing her arms in eventual defeat as she stared straight ahead.

that’s how it went for about a month.

you would come to their games, megumi would wave at you from the field or you would catch his attention and wave at him, and you would briefly speak to him casually just after his games, your conversations with him usually lasting no more than three minutes as he was often pulled by his coach or a crew member.

but even though the conversations were short, they were really nice, and the both of you never seemed to notice the people around you wanting his attention until he physically had to get pulled away.

but you still refused to go inside the locker room, knowing that was surely the place where you had to talk to him for longer than three minutes. you were too scared, embarrassingly so as you bid your girl friend and yuji goodbye from just outside the door before leaving every time, completely unaware of the way megumi would stare expressionless at you from inside.

when your girl friend invited you to the team’s yearly banquet, you flat out said no, decision firm and unmoving as she begged you over and over and over again.

“please please you have to go! you can’t avoid megumi forever!”

“what is the purpose of me going though?” you sighed, shaking your head with a smile at the sight of her dramatically on her knees over you. “for you it makes sense because you’re with yuji but what’s the excuse for me? i’m not anybody’s plus one.”

“yes you are,” she got back up on her feet and wiggled her eyebrows, “you’re megumi’s plus one.”

“bye i wish,” you mumbled, plopping down on your bed.

“okay you’re my plus one, or yuji’s! so he has two plus ones!”

she walked over and sat down next to you, resting her head against your shoulder as she sighed. “please come. you don’t have to talk to megumi okay? fine. but just come with me, i’ll have a better time if you do.”

you gave her a silly smile and thought for a moment, her sad tone swaying you as you finally gave in.

“only if you swear you won’t force me to talk to him.”

she nodded eagerly.

“i swear!”

so you stood there, nervous and biting your thumb as you frantically looked around, dressed in a pretty black off the shoulder mermaid style gown with a high slit exposing your leg— fiddling with your styled hair as you waited and waited and waited for your girl friend to come back from the dessert table with yuji.

you hadn’t seen megumi yet as you were trying to keep on a look out, because the moment you did see him all dressed up? you were sure you were going to start pathetically bowing for him on your knees in front of all these people and end your social life forever.

finally, she came back and handed you a little pastry, you thanking her kindly and taking a small bite.

“wait no!” she gasped, turning her pastry around. “fuck, i got the wrong one. i meant to get the vanilla one this is coconut.”

“i can get it for you this time.” you smiled kindly, her looking at you gratefully as you patted her shoulder, making your way over to the dessert table.

your eyes lit up like stars at the sight of it, grand and luxurious as any kind of pastry you could ever possibly think of was present— neat and gourmet-like, each adorned with elegant toppings as multiple huge chocolate fountain stations ran from the sides.

“hi.”

you jumped and looked to your right, megumi standing there beside you with a bored expression, clad in a polished black button up and slacks, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

you gulped.

“h—hi.”

“i didn’t think you’d come.”

he lazily picked up a tiny slice of chocolate mousse cake and looked at it.

“i was dragged by my best friend,” you puffed out a laugh. “she said i was her and yuji’s plus one or something like that.”

he nodded, biting his cake slice and swallowing.

“you stopped coming inside the locker rooms.”

you faltered.

he noticed that?

“oh yeah! i just—” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “i’ve been really busy with school so i study right after…”

for some reason megumi eyed you carefully, and your cheeks grew pinker the more he blatantly stared at you as you fidgeted.

“are you—”

“fushiguro!”

you both turned your heads to the source, and you spotted an unfamiliar guy, one who you assumed was on the team with them, smiling enthusiastically and throwing a heavy arm around megumi’s shoulder.

“who’s this? i’ve never seen you talk to anyone besides us!”

megumi only spared him a nonchalant glance before he looked back over at the dessert table.

the unknown man extended a hand out to you, and megumi’s eyes snapped to it.

“hi! i’m takuma!”

you cheerfully took his hand. “y/n!”

“are you megumi’s girlfriend?”

you gawked, guilt and embarrassment already filling your body at the thought of megumi finding that comment uncomfortable and being uncomfortable because of you.

at his own banquet.

“n—no!” you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “i came with my best friend and yuji.”

takuma unhooked his arm and let it rest beside him. “oh nice! you know yuji as well?”

you nodded, “mhm!”

the rest of the crowd began to take their seats for the awards ceremony segment, and the three of you walked over to your designated table by yuji and your best friend, who’s eyes widened at the sight of you next to megumi.

you all sat, and takuma pointed to the empty seat next to you.

“is anyone sitting here?”

“oh no!” you smiled politely. “it’s empty you can—”

“take mine ino.”

megumi pulled out the chair next to you and plopped down on it, scooting up. “it’s closer to the front.”

huh?

“o—oh!” takuma scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “okay! thanks fushiguro.”

he only nodded in response and stuck his face in his champagne glass, sipping.

and he was right. you watched as takuma navigated through the circular tables before sitting in a seat that was right smack dab in the front.

“that’s really nice of you megumi!” you chirped. “he has such a good view now!”

“mhm.”

your best friend smacked a hand to her forehead with a shake of her head, and you looked at her quizzically.

the awards ceremony was the most fun you’ve ever had, as you were over the moon for all of the players that were awarded prestigious titles and recognitions, and even more excited for yuji and megumi, the both of them combined taking award after award that by the time the event was done, your table was filled to the brim with frames, medals, and trophies.

your doe eyes glowed over megumi’s earnings, pride and admiration bubbling in your chest as you took in the result of his hard work, feeling like he was the most talented person you ever had the privilege of knowing.

he stared at your enamored look.

“you’re so cool, gumi..” you gushed, not even noticing the little nickname you gave him.

but he did.

“cool baseball man?” he responded softly, referencing your words from when you first met.

your eyes snapped to his and you gave him the shiniest smile, nodding quickly. “yeah! cool baseball man.”

megumi looked down at his awards, and after a couple of seconds, picked up a shiny gold medal hung on a baby blue striped lanyard, holding it out for you.

“here.”

your eyes traveled down.

“what?”

“for you.” he pushed the medal forward.

shock crossed your face, and you frantically shook your head, pushing the medal back to him. “no! no megumi that’s yours you earned it—”

megumi rolled his eyes and held on to the edges of the lanyard, effortlessly setting it over your head and around your neck, the medal clinking and twinkling against your chest.

“i have four others. it’s fine.”

“no but—”

he carded his thumbs underneath your hair and gently slid your hair out from beneath the lanyard, setting it delicately over your bare shoulders.

yuji and your best friends jaws were on the floor, but you didn’t notice, too busy ogling over the fact that megumi fushiguro was the kindest person you had ever met, utterly amazed that he selflessly gave you something so precious. you.

your gaze trailed down to the medal, and you softly touched it with the pads of your fingers.

“t—thank you gumi…”

his lips twitched.

you realized then that the music had started and the crowd had already dispersed to celebrate, some dancing in the center while others mingled on the sidelines or hogged the dessert table.

and you spotted your best friend with yuji, the both of them smiling adoringly at each other, laughing and dancing— something bashfully wished for yourself as you grinned softly at them.

megumi followed your gaze, and he huffed an amused small laugh through his nose.

“they met at a party didn’t they?”

you looked to him and nodded, “uh huh! i was with her. she was so scared to talk to him and i literally had to throw her in.”

he scratched his cheek. “i remember. i was there.”

your jaw dropped. “you were?!”

he nodded. “and i remember you too.”

you sat there in silence.

how long had megumi been around in your life without you knowing? how didn’t you ever freaking notice?

before you could press any further, megumi squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his forehead in pain, groaning softly.

you jumped, “are you okay? what’s wrong?”

he shook his head. “migraine. the lights are fucking with me a little.”

“oh!” you frantically looked around the table and around him. “where are your sunglasses? the dark ones the ones you ran into a wall with!”

megumi snorted and shook his head again, eyes peeking at you a bit. “it’s fine. i left them at home.”

your eyebrows rose, “you left them?”

he nodded and dropped his hand, sitting up straight and trying to open his eyes fully to seem normal, but his lids only dropped again and his forehead fell to rest against the table.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled. “just give me a minute.”

“don’t be sorry gumi…”

you figured the rest of the night was going to be like this, and if megumi stayed, he was going to end up dealing with the dull ache in his head for hours on end and not enjoy his banquet.

but you wanted him to enjoy it. this was his night, and you didn’t want him to spend it pissed off and writhing in pain.

“do you want to leave?”

he turned his head to the side and looked at you.

“we can um—” you fiddled with the medal around your neck. “we can go outside? or we can go for ice cream…”

you tilted your head to the side cutely, and you were oblivious to the way megumi’s cheeks went a little pink at the sight.

“ill pay though!” you smiled sweetly. “it’s the least i can do for the medal you gave me.”

he gave you an endearing half smile and nodded.

your eyes lit up. “really?! okay!— wait let me just say bye to my best friend and let her know—”

you quickly stood and walked over to the dance floor, megumi watching after you before picking up his black blazer and holding it underneath an arm, wondering how the fuck he was gonna pick up all of his awards himself.

“y/n!” your best friend gushed. “you’ve been talking to megumi for hours what the fuck is going on—”

you laughed. “nothing! it was nothing but i’m gonna go get ice cream with him!”

“what?!” her and yuji said in unison.

“did he ask you?” yuji pushed.

“no!” your eyes narrowed. “of course not i’m a big fat loser why would he? i invited him because he has a migraine so—”

your best friend hummed, a smirk on her face. “oh i see... use protection.”

“huh?!” your jaw dropped. “no! that’s not—”

“y/n!”

you turned and saw takuma walk over to you, a big smile on his face. “you enjoying the banquet?”

“oh yes! it’s really great!” you smiled kindly. “the dessert table is absolutely insane.”

“right?!” takuma stepped closer to you. “they go all out every year, it’s what everyone looks forward to.”

“i can definitely see why!”

he chuckled and nodded but then turned to you, speaking quieter. “listen um… i was wondering if you were uh— well if you wanted to dance? with me? y’know… maybe get to know each other better and then—”

yuji shoved his lips to your best friends ear.

“he’s stealing megumi’s girl.”

“i know!” she whispered harshly. “what the fuck do we do—”

“i don’t know!”

“well call megumi over—”

suddenly, a tall broad figure walked in between you and takuma, your vision blocked by his back.

“sorry ino,” megumi stepped to the side a little and placed a hand on the small of your back, ushering you towards the exit. “we were just leaving.”

yuji and your best friend gave each other a low high five before their eyes darted around, putting on false ignorance.

“sorry!— it was nice meeting you takuma!” you called from over your shoulder before the both of you stepped out of the venue and into the cool night air.

megumi’s car was parked right out front, him unlocking the doors with a button just like he had done the last time, you noticing how all of his awards were set neatly in the back seat.

“oh i’m sorry gumi! did you carry these over by yourself? i was gonna help you—”

you sat yourself on his passenger side seat, the leather creaking with every movement you made.

he shook his head. “i had my publicist team do it. it’s fine.”

“oh okay…” you mumbled, still feeling a little guilty that you didn’t help him.

you went to reach for your seatbelt when megumi’s arm flew in front of you and grabbed the strap, pulling it over your frame and clicking it securely before his hands wrapped back around the steering wheel, just like he had done a month prior.

you couldn’t make out his expression, as it was blank and stone-like and not a word was coming out of his mouth as he backed out from the parking space, but you smiled at him cutely nonetheless and thanked him.

the nearest ice cream shop was literally down the road from the venue, and the drive took less than three minutes before megumi pulled in and parallel parked on the side of the street.

you both stepped out and walked inside, the shop colorful and vibrant as what looked like twenty different assortments of ice cream were on display, your eyes launching across each flavor excitedly.

“i haven’t had ice cream in a fat minute…” you murmured as you pressed your hands against the glass.

“me neither.”

“which flavor do you want megumi?” you asked him sweetly, your eyes still glued to the flavors that it made him chuckle.

“um…” he stepped forward and scanned the different colors. “i’ll take whatever you get.”

you looked at him and your eyebrows softened, “are you sure? what if you don’t like it?”

the corner’s of his lips turned upward, the sight making your heart skip a beat.

“it’s okay. i trust you.”

you ended up getting your all time favorite flavor that you never skip— cake batter, one that tastes different depending on who’s palette it is, and something you anxiously thought over as you gnawed on your bottom lip and stared, waiting for him to try it as you both sat on a park bench not too far from the shop.

“why do you look like you’re about to cry.” he snickered lowly.

your eyes snapped to his and you giggled. “i might if you don’t like what i picked out.” you plopped a little spoonful in your mouth, the cold ice cream melting and spreading over your tongue as you swallowed. “cake batter is a hit or miss for different people…”

he hummed, “how come?”

“it’s either too sweet or just nasty.”

“i have a sweet tooth.”

your eyes lit up, “so do i! i’m a big sweets person. i love love desserts and chocolate and ice cream… but i’m not the biggest fan of candy.”

“you’re not?”

“i love candy but not how i love sweets… and i wouldn’t randomly pick it out like at the store because i wanted to. most likely i would get a cookie.”

megumi liked how much you talked.

“have you always had a sweet tooth?” he pressed on, looking at his ice cream cup.

you nodded. “have you?”

“not really,” he shook his head. “i didn’t pick it up until i met—” he stopped. “…my dad.”

met his dad?

megumi spotted your confusion and continued.

“my actual dad disappeared. dunno where he’s at. all i’ve heard is that he had a bad gambling addiction so i’m guessing it had something to do with that.”

your eyes softened.

“gojo is kind of like my dad…” he mumbled. “he’s supported my sister and i financially ever since i was maybe five or six.”

“you have a sister?” you murmured, eyes big.

he nodded. “i do.”

he scooped a bit of cake batter ice cream up with his spoon and plopped it into his mouth, smiling softly. “gojo gave me a sweet tooth. he can’t go a day without it.”

you’d never heard megumi open up so much before, and you felt incredibly lucky and special to be the one to hear about his family and share a precious moment with him over eating ice cream, something you wanted to treat delicately and remember for as long as you lived.

“do you like it?” you asked softly, gesturing to his cup.

“i love it.”

you beamed, and he took in your cute smile for a minute as you ate some more on your end.

“i’m sorry about your actual dad… but i’m glad you and your sister got the support you needed when you were young.”

he nodded.

“did he encourage you to do baseball? or was it you?”

“he did initially.” he shook his head. “he was annoying at first, was a cheerleader at every game and was so loud.”

you giggled.

“but i grew to like it… and that’s what i wanted to do for a career. if it wasn’t for gojo’s funding i wouldn’t have been able to.”

you hummed, savoring the ice cream a bit before swallowing. “that’s really nice, gumi. i’m really happy you got the opportunity to grow your skill out like that…” you swirled the ice cream around your cup with your spoon. “what you have is a solid gift, and i would hate to see it not get the recognition it deserves when you’ve worked so hard to make it what it is now.”

you looked at him. “so i’m really, really glad that it does get it.”

megumi stared at you, face blank and a scoop of yet to be eaten ice cream on his spoon, his cheeks growing hot.

“i don’t know why you think so highly of me.” he murmured.

everyone thinks he’s rude.

your eyebrows furrowed. “i don’t think megumi, i know. you’re not a mean person, you’re honest and serious about the important things in your life. and if the medal around my neck that you gave me selflessly doesn’t tell you otherwise? i might have to kill you.”

he laughed, loud, his eyes sparkling. “you might?”

you bit your lip to refrain yourself from freaking out over his smooth laughter. “i might.”

you subconsciously rubbed your hands over your chilling arms then and megumi eyed it before he put his cup down, reaching next to him for his blazer and opening it up as he gently placed it over your shoulders.

you looked at him like he was the world then, doe eyes big and round and shimmering, and megumi felt like he could do anything with that look as long as it came from you— a permanent red tint on his cheeks that was entirely your doing.

“thank you..” you mumbled shyly, your eyes glued to your now empty cup of ice cream on the bench as you clutched the sides of his blazer, the smell of him wafting in your nose that made you absolutely weak.

megumi timidly, slowly, reached up and moved a strand of hair from your eyes then, and you looked up.

“pretty…” he murmured, dazed even.

his hand fell and landed gently on your exposed thigh from the slit of your dress, but instead of moving it, he let it stay there, his hand smoothing over your plush soft skin as he was completely entranced by your heavenly face, his body pulling his lips closer to yours as megumi’s breath quickened with absolute need the higher up his hand trailed up your yummy thigh.

you couldn’t say a word, he practically didn’t let you as his lips pressed delicately and timidly against your plush ones, his mouth moving so slowly and his tongue parting your wet lips for the purpose of devouring more of you, all while his fingertips reached and felt the side straps of your panties— the material alone making him erratic and desperate while his other hand gripped your waist tightly.

your mouths moved faster now, the sounds of wet smacking and lips separating to reconnect with more greed than before muffling your ears as he breathed heavily through his nose, his eyebrows pinched together in pent up everything as he finally had you with him after months of you avoiding him.

and then you pulled away with a wet pop.

“i—i’m sorry!” you covered your mouth. “i didn’t mean to kiss you!—”

what?

megumi’s eyebrows furrowed, both of your chests heaving as his cheeks and lips were blushed red.

he shook his head, “no i kissed you—”

“don’t cover for me gumiii,” your shoulders slumped, your brain so in denial that he could ever like you back that it tricked you into thinking you were the one kissing and all over him. “fuck i’m sorry… that was so disrespectful and— and weird of me and i—”

megumi’s hands slipped away from your body and he shook his head, his eyes dead locked on yours with his eyebrows pinched together. “y/n no you’re not understanding—”

“i’m the biggest creep on the planet man i understand if you don’t ever want to speak to me again—” you covered your face and leaned forward.

megumi stared at you astonishingly as he listened to you ramble apologies and dramatic insults for yourself continuously, his shoulders slowly relaxing and his lips turning into a soft knowing smile, your random speech starting to make absolutely no sense at all and his heart aching at the fact of how naive you were.

“y/n.”

you stopped. “what.”

he reached over and pulled your hands away from your face. “you’re helpless, you know that?”

“helpless and a creep.”

he laughed and shook his head. “stop it.”

he stood and offered his hand out for you.

“it’s getting late, i’m driving you home.”

megumi decided he would properly speak to you about it the next time he saw you… except he didn’t.

you started avoiding him like the plague again, horrendously horrified about what you believed you had done, thinking that it was better if you stayed away from him and fulfilled your initial task of forgetting him, no matter how much it hurt you.

you didn’t want megumi to ever be uncomfortable or experience what you believed he experienced with you. he didn’t deserve that. he didn’t deserve a pathetic little fan girl that never left him alone and hindered his work on the field, even though you wished so badly you could see him again, as the taste of his lips and mouth never left your fuzzy mind.

you kissed megumi fushiguro.

“oh my god y/n, you’re so stupid.”

“no i’m not! do you really believe megumi could ever like me back? no! absolutely not. i kissed him and i fucked up and that’s it. i’m staying away from him.”

your best friend ran her fingers through her hair and almost tore a chunk out in frustration. “it sounds like he kissed you! he had his hand on your thigh—”

“that was for stability! he—”

“no it was to feel you up!”

you shook your head side to side with your arms crossed. “nope nope nope nope—”

“y/nnnn!”

as for megumi, the next game he had he looked for you while on the field like he always did, looking forward to seeing your precious face and giving you a little wave… except he couldn’t find you. after the game, he went around the stadium and towards the locker room, inside and back out, the parking lot, his parking lot—

and he couldn’t find you.

this went on for a full three weeks of game after game nearly every day him doing the same exact thing— him getting increasingly more confused and a bit upset at your disappearance, going as far as to staying hours after his games still in his sweaty baseball uniform and cap with hopes that you’ll turn up.

except you never did.

and at the end of the third week, he had had enough.

“oh hey megumi!” your best friend greeted him, her hand fixing around yuji’s hair in the locker room after a game.

“hi.”

he stood there and said nothing, and your best friend eyed him skeptically. “…yes?”

megumi shifted awkwardly. “have you um… have you seen y/n?”

she sucked in a breath. “uh yeah. i saw her this morning.”

“this morning?” his eyes narrowed. “is she okay? why hasn’t she been coming to our games with you?”

“because—” she stammered. “well because—”

“is it our place to say?” yuji muttered.

“is it our place to know?” she whispered back harshly.

“i don’t know!”

“let’s just tell him!”

“but what if!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and huffed. “nevermind. please tell her to come tomorrow, i need to talk to her.”

your best friend gulped and nodded, both her and yuji watching the way he walked away and snatched his cap off, throwing it inside his locker and slamming it shut with his foot before picking up his duffel bag and leaving, not even bothering to change out of his dirt covered uniform.

“i’ve never seen him so stressed,” yuji commented.

“it’s because he likes her and she’s being an idiot…” your best friend sighed sadly.

so when she came to you the next day and told you megumi needed to speak to you, she amplified how upset he was to get you to feel bad and feel the urgent need to come to the game tonight, which you of course did.

and you were worried. so so worried and scared that he was finally going to tell you off for kissing him, to tell you that you sucked and that he never ever wanted to see you again in his life and that you were a disgusting human being—

but the roar of the crowd pulled you from your thoughts, the team winning once again as many began to pack their things and take their leave. you were completely and utterly shitting yourself, petrified and already heartbroken over the fact that megumi was officially going to cut you off as a friend when you hadn’t even had the chance to try and win him over yet.

and the way he played on the field tonight was way more aggressive than normal. he was louder, meaner, and didn’t take his eyes away from the ball or his opponents as he nearly got into a fight with another player, yuji and a few others needing to pull megumi apart and set him aside to cool off— the cameras and reporters having a field day in regards to him.

and that bothered you like nothing else. why the hell were they so excited over him getting angry? to amplify the brand that he upholds as the teams meanest player? as if they’ve never had a bad day a day in their lives? what was the point?

and it was all because of you, you realized.

you made him upset.

you covered your face with your hands and groaned, feeling like you wanted to cry.

“y/n…” your best friend patted your back. “it’ll be fine… he just needs to talk to you! you don’t even know what it’s about.”

“i can take a wild guess.”

she looked at you worriedly before picking up her things. “whenever you’re ready babe… i think he’s in the locker rooms by now.”

she left you there to gather yourself, and you sat there for a couple of more minutes before finally getting up and making your way to the locker rooms.

most of the fans had cleared out by now, and the sun was beginning to set as you passed and squeezed through crew members and news reporters, gnawing at your bottom lip as you turned a corner and spotted the locker room, many of the players already leaving.

just as you had reached your hand up to open the door, a firm voice called out to you.

“y/n.”

you froze, retracting your hand as you turned to look.

megumi stood there at the end of the hall, his baseball uniform still on and his cap dangling from his belt loop, hands in tight fists with his chest rising and falling, an agitated look on his face that you had never seen before.

“h—hi-”

“are you trying to forget me? is that what’s going on?”

your eyebrows furrowed.

“what?”

megumi took stride full steps towards you. “you finally talk to me, you confess to me, you disappear for a month, i wait for you, you finally show up at the banquet looking like the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen in my fucking life—”

he stopped in front of you. “takuma tries to steal you from me, i get pissed off, i fall for you at the park, i kiss you—“ he threw his arms up. “and you disappear again!”

your eyes bulge out of their sockets.

fall?

“you what?—”

“so i’m asking you again,” megumi bent his knees to look at you at eye level, his hands coming up to cup your pink cheeks and his face so close to yours you can make out the exact color of his eyes.

“are you trying to forget me? like you said you would?”

you fidgeted.

“i— i was doing it for you—”

“why for me? i never said—”

the feeling of his big hands on your cheeks was making your heart do backflips and trick shots as your wide doe eyes looked at him.

“because when i kissed you i made you uncomfortable and i don’t ever want you to be so i thought it’d be best if i left you alone—”

“okay let’s fix that right now,” his hands tightened slightly around your cheeks and he readjusted his footing, knees still bent. “i kissed you. if anything i should be the one worried if i made you uncomfortable because i put my hand on your thigh like that and for that i’m sorry.”

“no but—”

“yes y/n. i kissed you because you’re polite and you’re sweet and you’re funny, and you don’t see me as rude like everybody else does. and even though you’re naive and helpless sometimes, i like that you are. i like you.”

“but you’re megumi fushiguro…” you squeaked.

“so?”

“and i’m a loser.”

he laughed so cutely and shook his head, his pearly whites fully shining at you so big that it took you back to the first time he smiled in front of you.

“no you’re not you big dummy.”

he let go of your cheeks and placed his palms flat against the brick wall behind you, cornering you in as he let his head hang low, the top of his spiky black hair the only thing in your line of vision.

“i don’t know how else i can make you see…”

he sounded so exhausted, and your heart clenched.

“was it—” you timidly placed your hands on his shoulders. “was it actually you that kissed me?”

he nodded, head still hung.

“and do you actually like me? like— like more than a friend…”

“way fucking more,” he mumbled.

you bit the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain yourself from screaming.

you couldn’t believe it. the megumi fushiguro, number eighteen, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen and the kindest one you’ve ever met… liked you.

“i could’ve sworn i kissed you..” you spoke softly, trailing off.

“you didn’t.” his voice was firm. “i kissed you and i put my hand up your thigh…” his forehead lifted to rest on the crook of your neck as he sighed a deep breath.

“i told— i told takuma to scram at the banquet because i got jealous that you were talking to him more than me. i saw you crying in the hall that first time we spoke and i recognized you and i went up to you because finally—”

he picked his head up slowly, eyes serious. “finally, you noticed me.”

he was so close that your nose brushed gently with his.

“you’re so dense y/n…”

megumi’s eyes flickered to your lips, “i’ve wanted you since the party.”

“the party?” you murmured.

he nodded. “the party where your friend first met yuji.”

your breath hitched as you felt his hands slide down the wall and snake over your hips, holding you tightly against him as the shock of his words made your body numb and tingly.

since the party?

it all seemed to click into place then, every single moment megumi tried to get you to look at him, to talk to him, in his own discreet way that you were completely oblivious to. and you were so fucking caught up in this fog of denial, that a person like megumi could never be interested in a person like you, that it made you push him away for the longest time without even giving yourself a chance.

you were so fucking stupid.

your arms slowly wrapped around his broad shoulders, the rough feeling of his baseball uniform underneath your fingertips and arms as you pressed your nose up against his shoulder shyly, feeling so incredibly bad for avoiding megumi for so long.

“i’m sorry…” you mumbled. “i’m sorry i was so oblivious gumi.”

you felt him shake his head from the crook of your neck silently, the vibration of his heart beating rapidly against you making you sweat and melt at the same time.

“don’t be.”

“i just—” you struggled. “i just thought you didn’t like me like i liked you and i wanted to respect your space…”

“i understand,” he muttered. “but i don’t want you to respect my space anymore.”

you held him tighter.

“and—” your voice was slightly muffled by his shoulder.

“hm?”

“i liked it when you put your hand on my thigh…”

megumi stilled, you playing the night he kissed you over and over in your head again like you’ve done since it happened— the thought making you nervous and timid.

he gripped you tighter.

“did you?”

you nodded, “mhm.”

megumi without parting from you, slipped a hand under your shirt and soothed his fingers over the bare skin of your torso, your breathing stuttering, his rough hand radiating warmth.

“what else do you like.”

you gripped the fabric of his uniform.

“i like… i like the way you kissed me. and how you touch me… like right now.”

your voice was so so soft, practically a whisper as he seemed to shiver under your words, wanting more.

“what else.”

“you,” you mumbled. “your body… your hair… your face… your hands… the way you talk to people.”

“you want me?” he murmured breathlessly.

“more than anything.”

“what else do you like?”

you leaned your head back a little and pressed your lips to his ear. “the way you play ball.”

he hummed, “you like the way i play baby?”

you nodded, your heart hammering.

he lifted his face from the crook of your neck and shamelessly pressed his lips to your cheek, murmuring.

“you wanna see what else i can do?”

“what— what else?”

megumi’s face remained pressed against your cheek as he let both of his hands now snake underneath your shirt and upwards, slowly but roughly groping the cup of your tits over your bra, feeling you up as you gasped.

“uh huh..” he pressed an open mouthed wet kiss to your pink fuzzy cheek. “‘cause i can do a lot more than just be your cool baseball man.”

he roughly spun you around and pushed you up against the wall, his hands coming back up to your breasts to grope you as he shoved and rubbed his hardened clothed dick against your perky ass, your tiny skirt riding up and revealing your pretty pink panties that made him absolutely feral.

“gumi!” you gasped. “s—someone could see—”

“i don’t fucking care.”

megumi buried his nose further into the back of your neck and your hair, him being a little pervert in the most delicious and intoxicating way possible.

he dragged his mouth up against your skin and latched on to the nape of your neck, sucking and biting sloppily against it as he marked you aggressively, no doubt in your mind that a purple bruise would follow soon after as his hands slipped under your bra now, pinching your hard nipples meanly and laughing when you jumped.

you moaned and whined against the wall, your body trembling as you felt your slick arousal slip from your hole and dampen your panties, choked up embarrassment coating your face as he shoved his fingers down your skirt without warning.

“you’re soaked baby…” he whispered. “and all because i grabbed your tits?”

“megumiii…” you whined, and you squeaked as he quickly slipped his fingers in between your pussy lips and pinched your clit.

“gumi,” he corrected. “fix it.”

“g—gumi—”

“good, pretty baby...” he praised, his dick rock fucking solid against your ass at the way his fingers slipped and slid in between your lower lips without much effort, both of your chests heaving and panting as your brains frazzled erotically.

the sounds of footsteps echoed from the end of the hall and you both immediately froze, a gasp slipping past your lips before megumi quickly covered your mouth with the same hand that was just fingering you.

“shh.” he kissed the back of your head.

if anyone were to walk in and see the sight before them— megumi with his crotch pressed up against your ass, a hand pushing your top and bra up, squeezing your bare puffy tit and the other covering your mouth?

they’d drop dead.

without another moment wasted, megumi uncovered your mouth and turned you around, his tongue darting out and licking the patch of wet on your cheek from his fingers before shoving them in his mouth, sucking up your left over juice as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs, lifting and throwing you over his shoulder.

megumi was freaky.

your eyes widened as he walked to the double doors of the locker room and kicked it open with his foot, turning around to lock them shut before walking to a corner and setting you down gently on a bench, his palms flat beside you on the smooth wood as he towered over you.

“is— is everybody gone?”

“long gone.” he nibbled at your cheek.

“but— but what if someone wants to come in?—”

he pulled away and got down on his knees. “i’ll tell them to fuck off.”

you panted as he pressed his hands against your thighs and squeezed, spreading them apart slowly with his eyes trained to your drenched cute pink panties.

he slid his hands underneath your thighs and lifted, bending you and pressing your knees closer to you as your back hit the lockers behind you, your hands gripping the bench for dear life.

“has anyone ever seen your pussy?” he gruffed, licking his lips.

you shook your head, embarrassed. “n—no.”

“has any other man touched you the way i’ve touched you?”

“m—maybe in high school?—”

megumi sunk his teeth into your inner thigh and bit you as you yelped.

“thought you liked me.”

“i do!” you sputtered.

“clearly not if you’re being a little whore and letting other filthy men on you.”

your hole clenched.

“that— that was before you!”

he stuck his tongue out and pressed it flat against your pussy covered panties, dragging it slowly and agonizingly up until the tip of his tongue passed and flicked up against your clit, the tip moving around and around your little nub as your thighs shook.

“doesn’t matter.” he let a string of drool fall from the corner of his lips and over your ruined underwear, your eyes fluttering as you felt his warm saliva ooze in between your lips.

“and what about takuma, hm?”

you tried to open your eyes. “ta—takuma?”

“mhm. he was all over you.”

you hiccuped as he wrapped his fingers around the straps of your panties and pulled them down.

“i—”

“bet he wanted to do to you what i’m doing right now…” he hummed. “would you have let him?”

he stuffed his nose into your bare pussy and inhaled deeply, your jaw dropping as you squeezed your eyes shut.

your lack of response caused him to pull away and bite your thigh again, harder.

“would you?”

“n—no!” you shook your head quickly, strands of your hair lightly grazing your face. “i wouldn’t—”

“so who then?” he licked over his bite mark. “who would you spread your legs open for like this and let them see what a nasty fucking girl you are…”

“you gumi!” you hiccuped. “just you—”

“just me?”

megumi finally let his tongue slither itself in between your folds, slowly running over your flaps and clit as your hole continued to squelch out your arousal, pooling on the bench beneath you.

“y—yes!”

he slobbered and spit over your pussy like a starved dog, his face glistening like sugary glazed sweets.

“that’s what i fucking thought,” he hummed. “you gonna try and forget me again?”

“no!” you shook your head. “never! i can’t!”

he gripped your thighs tighter as he absolutely violated your folds then, wet sloshing and slurpings filling the air as he spat and shook his head side to side rapidly on your clit, you squealing and attempting to snap your thighs shut in response, his strong grip not letting you even if you tried.

“i—i can’t!” you cried. “gumi slow please it’s too much—”

“be a pretty baby and stop complaining.” he ran his slimy tongue over your pussy entirely before shoving it inside your hole.

you choked and clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, tears of ecstasy spilling from the corners of your eyes as you squeezed them shut.

you whimpered and moaned and cried so pathetically, so cutely in his ears that he grinned as he pumped his tongue in and out of you filthily.

“you’re so fucking sweet—” he slapped your cunt and you jumped. “good thing i have a sweet tooth.”

your legs shook violently as you began to see stars, your tight hole clenching and sputtering around nothing as you felt your release approaching.

“gumi—” your hand flew back to the bench and you gripped it. “m’gonna cum! i’m— i’m gonna make a mess—”

megumi’s hand shot up and wrapped around one of your thighs so the tips of his fingers met your clit, his digits proceeding to rub and flick it as you climbed and reached your high, a high pitched scream echoing through the steamy locker room as your pussy leaked your sweet cum on his tongue.

you shuddered and jumped at the way he cleaned up your release and swallowed it, running his tongue soothingly over the bite marks on your thighs before coming back up and wiping his glistening face with his sleeve.

megumi leaned in and pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips, a complete turn around from the feral beast you had in between your legs— you kissing him back with just as much feel and affection.

he pulled back and got back up on his feet, you watching him ditzy as he jogged over to his locker and turned the lock until it clicked open, him rummaging inside for a little before he shut it and came back with a fresh pair of gray sweatpants.

“put these on baby,” he murmured.

you nodded sweetly and took them from him, you slipping off your skirt and pulling his sweatpants over as you watched him bend and look over corners.

“what are you looking for?” you asked softly.

he perked up then and stuck his hand under a bench, pulling out your wet ruined pink panties and holding them up high like a trophy.

“oh my god—” you covered your mouth in embarrassment. “give me those!”

“nope.” he shook his head and walked over to his duffel bag on the floor, unzipping it before stuffing your panties inside. “these are mine now.”

megumi came back up and wrapped his palm underneath your chin, tilting your face up softly before planting a sweet kiss to your swollen lips.

“and so are you.”

and that you were.

you went on many many dates with megumi after that, each and every single one so incredibly lovely and fun, a genuine connection you felt with him and each other that you had never ever felt before in your life, absolutely enamored by the way he gently treated you and made you feel like the only one that mattered in his life.

your best friend was obviously over the moon for you, squealing like a maniac at everything you told her, and always teased megumi about his lovesick face whenever you came to his games or appeared in the locker room to help him change, sort his clothes, or fix his hair.

“megumi…” she snickered. “your cheeks are a little red! are you like— sick?”

he scowled at her and turned the other way, wiping his sweaty forehead as he watched you bounce down the steps cutely and onto the field after one of his practices, a huge smile on your face that replicated on his.

the minute you jumped into his arms, he peppered your little cheeks with kisses as you giggled and ruffled his spiky hair, asking him how he felt about practice and other things after he set you down.

without anyone noticing, a journalist was on the field, and at the sight of megumi fushiguro’s beaming toothy smile as he watched you run to him, they quickly snapped a photo and published it.

one was a perfect portrait photo of his shining white smile (that later became his signature picture) and the other was a photo of his arms out for you as you ran, the both of them causing an absolute uproar that altered megumi’s image from that day forward.

megumi fushiguro was thought to be the meanest player on the team since the day he got signed.

but when he started taking more pictures with fans, kind of stopped offending the people around him, signed more autographs, and smiled occasionally at the paparazzi— all while your pretty self stood right next to him?

megumi fushiguro was sometimes the meanest player on the team.

————————————————————————

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

[bambieyedpoet]

drop dead - m. fushiguro x reader ⋆˚࿔

"it's feminine intuition, 'cause I always had a vision of us standing like this"

💌: ao haru ride inspired, fluff, childhood friends, yearner megumi. wc: 2.2k. art credit: semapathy ⚠︎gifs are not mine, credits to rightful owner.

time moves like a tide, drifting forward even when you wish it would pause, carrying people apart only to pull them back together with a feeling that settles deeper each time. distance stretches the heart in ways you don’t notice at first, but megumi feels it every day, like each memory of you grows fonder the longer you’re away.

he thinks about how strange it is that time can take someone out of your reach but still keep them close in your mind. he never says any of this out loud.

you and megumi grew up together, sharing schoolyards, after‑school snacks, and long walks home where he always slowed his pace to match yours. he was the kid who stood beside you when you were nervous, the one who held your sleeve when you crossed the road.

you spent whole afternoons trading secrets under the same tree, promising you’d stay friends even when life got busy. he remembers every detail, every laugh, every moment where he wished he could tell you how much you meant to him.

now, years later, he’s alone in his apartment, thinking about you again like he always does when the day winds down. he crouches beside the couch and calls out your name, his voice gentle and familiar, but he isn’t talking to you. instead, a tiny black cat trots over, tail flicking as she jumps into his arms, clearly used to being spoiled.

he scratches behind her ear and murmurs, “come here, y/n, dinner’s ready,” acting like it’s normal even though he knows exactly why he chose that name.

he sits back against the couch with the cat curled against him, staring at the empty space across the room where he imagines you would sit if you were here. he whispers, “you’d laugh at me if you saw this,” but there’s a small smile on his face as he says it.

naming the cat after you was something he did without thinking, something that made the distance feel a little less severe.

he holds her close and adds, “you remind me of her, you know,” even though he knows the truth, he just misses you.

megumi sits on the couch with the cat curled against his chest. he pauses on a photo he took earlier, the cat sitting on the windowsill with the afternoon light behind her, looking far too pleased with herself.

he taps it, adds it to his instagram story, and types out the caption with your name, the same name he calls out every evening when he feeds her. the moment he posts it, he stares at the screen for a long time, wondering if you’ll see it and think of him the way he thinks of you.

the story sits there with a tiny heart sticker in the corner, the cat’s name written clearly like it’s something he wants the whole world to know.

he leans back and lets out a slow breath, feeling that familiar ache settle in his chest, the one that always shows up when he thinks about how long it’s been since he last saw you. “you’d tease me for this,” he mutters to the cat, who blinks at him like she agrees. he reaches out and strokes her head, adding quietly, “i just miss her, that’s all.”

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you haven’t checked megumi’s instagram in ages, mostly because you told yourself it didn’t matter anymore, that childhood memories were just that -- memories. but tonight, for some reason you can’t explain, you open the app and type his name into the search.

his profile loads slowly, and you scroll through the grid with a strange mix of curiosity.

the moment it opens, your breath catches because the first thing you see is a tiny cat sitting on a windowsill, looking far too proud of herself. the caption sits right under it, written in his usual neat style, and it’s your name, sitting there like it belongs to the cat. you stare at it for a long moment, your thumb frozen on the screen as your heart skips a beat.

you whisper, “no way… megumi, what are you doing?” even though he’s nowhere near you.

you exit the story so fast you almost drop your phone, but the damage is done, your name is in his story views. you sit there on your bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out why he would name a cat after you of all things.

part of you wants to laugh, part of you wants to scream, and part of you feels something warm settle in your chest, something you haven’t felt since you were kids. you whisper to yourself, “he can’t be serious,” but the truth is, you know exactly what megumi is like -- he never does anything without meaning it.

our heart is still racing when you open the message box under his story, your thumb hovering for a moment before you slide up and type a single confused “?”. it feels ridiculous, but it’s the only thing your brain can manage after seeing your own name sitting under a photo of his cat. you hit send before you can overthink it, then toss your phone onto the bed.

across town, megumi sees the notification pop up and freezes. he stares at your name on his screen, his mind running through every possible reply before he even touches the keyboard.

he types something, deletes it, types again, deletes it again. and sits there with his head in his hands because nothing sounds normal. he finally forces himself to write something and sends: “long story.”

the moment it delivers, he drops his phone onto the couch and groans into his hands, already regretting how vague it sounds. he wanted to explain, he wanted to tell you everything, but the words tangled before he could get them out. the cat climbs into his lap. he glances at his phone again, waiting for your reply.

you stare at megumi’s “long story” message for a while, your thumb tapping against the screen as you try to decide what to say. part of you wants to tease him, part of you wants to demand answers, and part of you just wants to hear his voice again after so long. you settle on something simple: “i have time.” you hit send before you can second‑guess it, your heart thudding in a way you haven’t felt since you were teenagers.

megumi sees the message instantly, his phone lighting up in his hand while he sits on the couch with the cat curled against him. he stares at your words. he types a reply, deletes it, types again, deletes it again, trying to find something that doesn’t sound too eager or too distant. finally, he exhales and writes the one thing that feels right: “can we meet? the old park.”

he hesitates for a moment, thumb hovering over the send button, thinking about the tree you used to sit under, the swings you used to race to, the path you used to walk together every afternoon.

he wonders if you’ll remember all of it the way he does, if the place still holds the same sentiment for you. then he presses send, his chest tightening as the message delivers. he whispers to the cat, “i hope she comes,” even though he knows he’ll be waiting there no matter what.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the park looks almost the same as it did when you were kids, the same old tree standing tall, the same path winding through the grass, the same swings creaking in the breeze. you spot him before he sees you.

megumi standing near the tree in a navy sweater and dark jeans, hands in his pockets like he’s trying to look calm even though he keeps shifting his weight. he looks older, steadier, but somehow exactly like the boy you remember.

you take a breath and call out, “megumi!” your voice carries across the park, and he turns so quickly it’s like he’s been waiting for that exact sound. he walks toward you with that familiar careful pace, eyes fixed on you like he’s trying to take in every detail at once. when he stops in front of you, you tilt your head up and say the first thing that slips out, “you’ve gotten taller.”

megumi lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as he looks down at you. “you always used to say that,” he replies, even though you haven’t said it in years. he studies your face for a moment, like he’s checking you’re really here and not something he imagined on a lonely night. then he adds, “you look the same… but also not the same,” his voice affectionate in tone.

the space between you feels full of every memory you ever shared, every moment you missed, every message you almost sent but didn’t. megumi shifts slightly, hands still in his pockets, and says, “i’m glad you came.”

you smile at him, feeling something familiar settle inside you, and say, “me too.”

you both stand under the same tree you used to sit beneath as kids, the branches stretching overhead like they remember you. the air feels steady around you, not tense, just full of everything you’ve been wanting to ask since the moment you saw his story. you shift your weight a little, looking up at him with a mix of confusion.

finally, you say, “so… what’s the story? why is your cat named after me?”

megumi’s eyes flick away for a moment, like he’s trying to gather the right words without giving too much away too fast. he rubs the back of his neck, the navy sleeve of his sweater bunching slightly as he exhales.

he looks back at you, meeting your eyes with a sincerel expression, and says, “i just wanted something that reminded me of you.”

he shifts his hands in his pockets and he’s bracing himself for your reaction even though he’s trying to look calm.

“i got her during a time when we weren't talking,” he continues, his gaze dropping to the ground for a moment. “saying your name every day made things feel easier.”

you feel your breath catch. you take a small step closer, studying his face, noticing the way he keeps glancing at you like he’s checking if he said too much.

“megumi…” you start, but the rest of the sentence doesn’t come out because you’re still processing the weight of what he just admitted.

he gives a tiny shrug, almost shy, and says, “i guess i missed you more than i thought.”

you stand there with megumi under the old tree, the same one that watched you both grow up.

you reach up and touch his cheek gently, your palm cupping it like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and he leans into your hand without hesitation. you look up at him and say, “i missed you too, megumi.”

his eyes soften and he lifts one hand slowly, giving you time to pull away if you want to, but you stay right where you are. his fingers slide to the back of your head, settling there with a steady touch that feels familiar even after all this time. he guides you forward, shifting you into his chest with a careful pull, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

you feel his breath against your hair as he murmurs, “i didn’t think you’d say that.”

his other arm wraps around you, drawing you closer until you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. the world around you fades into something supplementary, like the years apart have folded themselves into this one moment.

megumi rests his chin lightly against your head and adds, “i’m really glad you’re here.”

you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into him, feeling every memory and every missed moment bloom into something new. his hand stays at the back of your head, steady and sure, like he’s anchoring you both to the place where everything started.

you finally speak, “me too".

megumi holds you a little tighter, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right.

[blueberriesyuh]

Are u mine? ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Megumi x reader

Gojo teases you and Megumi’s relationship too much. While you both try to deny his claims there’s a secret part of you that hopes he’s right.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚. ˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

The lecture hall was densely packed, filled with the low, steady hum of conversation. It wasn’t the usual tense silence of a mission briefing; instead, students leaned over desks whispering while staff moved unhurriedly through the aisles. Gojo drifted through the crowd, tossing out casual waves and chirpy 'hellos' as he wove toward the front, seemingly unbothered by the row of elders watching him from the back.

Gojo clapped his hands together, the sound echoing through the hushed hall. “Alright! Let’s get this meeting started by introducing some of my students. The boy sitting on the right table is Yuji, next to him is Nobara, and the one with the white hair is Inumaki”

“Salmon” Inumaki responded

Then, Gojo’s grin widened, shifting into something more mischievous. He walked over to the next table dropping two heavy hands—one on Megumi’s shoulder and the other on yours.

But these two? These are my heavy hitters, my aces," he announced, his voice ringing out clearly for every higher-up to hear. Gojo leaned down, wrapping an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both inward until your heads nearly knocked together. With his face jammed right in the middle—his blindfold practically brushing against your cheeks “They’re going to get married one day”

"SHUT UP!"

The shout was perfectly synchronized. You and Megumi bolted upright, chairs screeching discordantly against the floor. Megumi’s face was a violent shade of crimson that clashed horribly with his dark hair, his hands balled into white-knuckled fists.

"Stop talking! Just—stop talking forever!" He yelled, his voice cracking slightly from the sheer mortification.

"SENSEI, I SWEAR TO GOD—" you started, slamming your hands onto the table so hard the tea cups rattled frantically. Your hands came up to hide the redness in your face, completely lost for words. Your hands began to tremble against your face— half from the heat of the blush and half from the desire to punch Gojo into the next prefecture.

A few of the younger sorcerers in the back snickered. Nobara didn't even try to hide it, letting out a boisterous cackle that echoed off the high ceilings. Megumi stood frozen, unable to hide the fact that his face was a brilliant, burning red. He stared at the table with such intensity, wishing he could disappear into the grain of the wood if he looked hard enough.

"Anyways!" he shouted, clapping his hands together once—a sharp, final sound that cut through Nobara’s fading giggles and the low, indignant murmurs of the elders.

He turned his back on your crimson faces and faced the front of the room, tapping a marker against the whiteboard. "Moving on to the actual reason we're all in this stuffy room: the Grade 1 sightings in the Roppongi district. It’s a messy one, so pay attention” Gojo had continued on with the meeting like nothing had happened. The two of you sat back down but remained frozen in place.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp, intentional nudge against your arm. You looked down to see Megumi’s elbow bumping yours. He didn't look up from his notebook, but he leaned in just enough so only you could hear his voice. "He’s actually lost it," Megumi muttered, his voice a low, raspy thread. "He’s completely insane. I think the Infinity finally fried his brain."

You let out a small, stifled breath of a laugh, the tension in your shoulders finally snapping. You leaned back toward him, whispering behind the safety of your hand. "Just 'finally'? I’m pretty sure he’s been like this psychotic since he was in the womb. I'm surprised he didn't try to hand out wedding invitations right then and there."

Megumi’s lips twitched—not a full smile, but the ghost of one. "Don't give him ideas. He’d probably try to officiate the wedding in that blindfold and trip over the altar."

"Right? And he probably only said that to see how many of the elders would have a heart attack. I think he’s winning; look at the guy in the third row, he’s purple." You nodded your head in the man’s direction.

"Exactly," Megumi exhaled, a tiny, genuine huff of a laugh escaping him.

Megumi tried to dismiss it, but the truth in Gojo’s words settled unshakably in his mind. He’s right. God, I hope he’s actually right.

He looked at you and realized he wasn't just okay with the idea—he was secretly terrified of any other outcome.

The two of you kept making fun of the whole situation hiding the fact that while you were laughing at the joke, neither of you had actually said the word 'no.'

After a while everyone was asked to get up and walk over to their selected group. You both walked over to a group of students from the Kyoto school to go over mission details. They were just starting to discuss team assignments when one of them cuts in. “Wait— you’re a foreigner right?” A guy asked, lunging forward to observe your features. “What are you even doing here?” Megumi’s expression darkened.

"Yes," you replied. You forced a tight, polite smile, though your voice was clipped. “Gojo recruited me” You hoped the short answer would be enough to end the interrogation. It wasn’t. "No way!” the guy almost gasped “From where?” He completely ignored your clear lack of interest.

“California” you responded. “Cool! Who’s the president of California?” He asked. “Hmm..." you hummed, tapping a finger against your chin. "Mike Sherm?"

"Mike Sherm," the guy repeated, nodding slowly. You caught Megumi from the corner of your eye failing to suppress the slight twitch in his lips. He knew exactly what you were doing.

“Fascinating. But be honest—can you actually feel Cursed Energy the same way we do?” He leaned in, searching your face as if looking for a defect. “I’ve heard that without the barriers and history we have here, foreign spirits are... diluted. Are you able to actually see them? Or do you just wait until something hits you to realize it’s there?”

You let out a sharp, incredulous scoff, your arms snapping across your chest as you stared at him in pure disbelief. “What?” you demanded, the word laced with a mix of anger and genuine shock.

“I’m just saying, it’s important we know if you’ll be able to keep up with the rest of us during the mission since your senses aren't as ‘optimized’ for real Jujutsu. It’s not your fault you were born somewhere so… spiritually empty.”

You felt your pulse spike, but before you could slap the shit out of him, a sharp crack echoed through the room. Megumi had slammed his notebook onto the table right in front of the guy, the sound like a gunshot. He stepped forward, his tall frame physically shoving the student back a step. Megumi claimed the space between you two, his back brushed against your shoulder as he forced the Kyoto student to lock eyes with him instead. “You’re making a lot of noise for someone who hasn't contributed a single useful thought to this briefing. Her being a foreigner isn't the problem here—your pathetic need to hear yourself talk is. Sit down and shut up.”

He took a hasty step back, his hands coming up in defensive, "Okay, okay! Relax, Fushiguro," he babelled, his voice jumping an octave. "I was just curious, that’s all. No need to get so worked up."

Megumi didn't move. He just stood there, his fists clenched at his sides and his breathing heavy. The seething intensity hadn't faded; if anything, he looked like he was one second away from dragging the guy out into the hallway. Before he could take a step forward, you reached out. Your hand slid down his arm, fingers wrapping firmly around his forearm to anchor him in place. At the touch, you felt a sharp tremor run through him. "Megumi," you said softly, a silent plea for him to let it go. "It’s fine, c’mon” Without looking back at the rest of the group, you let your hand slide further down until your fingers wrapped around his. Tugging him towards the exit. He followed without protest, his hand squeezing yours with a quiet, lingering tension. Behind you, the room remained dead silent, the meeting effectively over.

The cool air of the hallway felt like a relief after the stifling atmosphere of the meeting. Megumi’s pace was brisk at first, his boots clicking sharply against the floor, but he slowed down as soon as he felt they were far enough from the rest of them. "They’re idiots," he muttered, his voice still rough with the remnants of his anger. He wasn't looking at the path ahead; he was staring at the floor, his brow furrowed. "Acting like Jujutsu has anything to do with where you were born. It’s arrogant."

He squeezed your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a restless rhythm. "You shouldn't have to listen to that. Your technique, your senses... they're more refined than half the people in that room combined."

You didn't say anything at first, just let him vent the frustration he’d been bottling up. Instead, you shifted closer, until you could lean your head against his shoulder. His shoulders finally dropped, and the line of his jaw softened. Feeling the shift, you let your head roll slightly to the side, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against the dark fabric of his uniform. Megumi went completely still for a heartbeat, his breath hitching in his chest. He didn't pull away; instead, he laced his fingers more tightly through your own. "If he tries talking to you like that during the mission, don't even bother answering him. Just tell me."

You looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes "Careful, Fushiguro. If you keep being this protective, people are going to start believing Gojo’s nonsense."

"They can think whatever they want," he said quietly, his voice steady. "I don't plan on letting anyone talk to you like that. Ever."

You steered him toward the glowing vending machines at the end of the hall, and as you walked, you reached up, grabbing his hand and pulling his arm over your shoulder. He didn’t resist; his arm settled there with a heavy, familiar warmth, his fingers curling instinctively around your side to keep you close. “Pick whatever you want," he muttered, already pulling out his change, his thumb absentmindedly tracing a slow circle over the fabric of your sleeve. Megumi paid for everything—your snacks, your drinks, the extra side of ginger he always made sure you got at dinner.

"You know," you murmured, tilting your head as you watched the faint blush still lingering on his cheeks. "I wouldn’t mind."

Megumi blinked, his hand still holding your drink halfway between you. "What?" he asked, his voice a bit breathy, genuinely caught off guard by the sudden change in your tone.



“Getting married to you," you teased. The blush that had been creeping up his neck exploded across his entire face, reaching the very tips of his ears. Megumi sputtered for a second, his mouth opening and closing as he searched for a comeback that wouldn't come. "I—that's—" He cut himself off, looking everywhere but at you. He shoved the cold soda can into your hands to distract himself,

He looked at you, then at the soda, then back at you, his face reaching a level of crimson that shouldn't have been biologically possible. “I can’t believe you just said that," he managed to choke out, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of his sheer embarrassment.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of an explanation. You just popped the tab on your drink with a satisfied click, took a sip, and started walking away. "Said what?" you asked over your shoulder.

"Hey—come back here!" Megumi called out, his footsteps quick and heavy as he scrambled to catch up with you. His hands shoved deep into his pockets as he hurried to your side.

[erin-bo-berin]

Rare picture of me by the end of ACOTAR 8.

[yaraverse]

Was sleep deprived and made Tvd fic inspired texts

[forgivenesslost]

Pleroma Metanoia

Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x OC, possibly Jeremy Gilbert x OC (idk let it cook ig)

Rating: 18+

CW: mentions of panic attacks and references to dark romance books

Jeremy Gilbert had forgotten all about Vickie Donovan. At least, that’s what it seemed like to Rory. His post at the stoner gate abandoned in favor of sticking his nose in texts at the library.

The fact that she noticed at all was a testament to how out of character it felt. If she squinted hard enough when she passed the stoner’s cove, shadows would form a similar silhouette in his place and it could be as though he never left.

But that lifestyle never really suited him.

To be fair, finding him in the library during lunch, at her table, no less, didn’t really fit him, either.

Jeremy Gilbert had been a lot of things over the course of his life. But Rory could never figure out where he truly belonged. Brows always furrowed, pain laced in his molten chocolate eyes, hunched over as though he were the reincarnation of Atlas. He never really found comfort in his own skin.

Rory jolted as heavy footsteps rounded the corner. She forced her gaze back to the old, crinkled book in her hands and pretended not to notice the weight of his stare—Jeremy’s stare—when he noticed she was in his (her) spot.

She turned the page, even though she had barely skimmed the first line. The Great Gatsby was a timeless tale she didn’t necessarily care for, instead preferring the company of dark romance or dark fantasy fiction. But required book reports needed to be kept palatable to a general audience. Easier to digest than firearms penetrating places they had no business being.

Not to mention, it was a side of her that she, herself, hadn’t come to terms with quite yet.

Turns out that his decision-making process worked much more quickly than hers. His stare lingered for barely a moment before he sat down at the edge of her table, two chairs down, diagonal from her own spot.

Unable to conceal her surprise, her eyes flicked in his general direction before she forced them back down to the words on the page. Her head ducked and she allowed dark curls to become a curtain between them. Desperation held her rigid. He could not see the tint that warmed her skin. Not if she didn’t want to die of complete and utter mortification.

Never in a million years did she think Jeremy Gilbert would tolerate her company. Elena never had. Why would he?

The gentle tone of her alarm felt like a siren in the quiet library.

In her rush to shut it off, it slipped from her fingers, smacked against the edge of the wooden table, then the arm of her wooden chair, before splaying on the carpeted floor below. She cursed, grabbing at it again.

If she thought she would die from her silly blush, then this was just the torture before the final blow. She begged, prayed that any other worldly deity would break open the ground and swallow her whole. But she wasn’t that lucky. “Sorry,” she whispered as she shut it off.

Out of her periphery, he shrugged. Part of her refused to look at him. Another part of her, one with a little more weight, needed to see with her own eyes, to make sure she hadn’t caused him any grief.

She hadn’t. Not if the slight upturn of his lips was any indication.

She shoved the phone in her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. She had ten minutes to make it to Ancient Mythologies. She only needed five. 

She didn’t ask him if he would be there. His arrival at the library ten minutes prior to the class they shared was proof enough that he had every intention of skipping this one in favor of studying—

Occult: History, Theory, and Practice.

She barely caught the small printed words on her way out.

Yet another thing that seemed abnormal for him.

She tried to shake away the thoughts with a reminder that she didn’t know him. She merely judged him based on what she knew of his history. His sister. His mannerisms.

She didn’t stalk him.

She wasn’t stalking him.

She noticed him in the way she noticed Matt Donovan. Both were attractive, gave off boy-next-door energy, and had more empathy in their pinky fingers than any other male she knew. It was charming. Endearing. And it warmed her heart probably more than it should have as someone who didn’t know them personally.

She resigned herself with a sigh. They lived leagues away from her.

The cozy chill of autumn blew in as she pushed open one of the double doors leading into the courtyard. Her own scent of roses and honey carried on the wind, she noticed. She hadn’t gone heavy with hair or body wash, but the fragrance held strength.

She pulled her hair into her scarf and tucked the fabric into her jacket. This cold front had rolled in relatively early compared to previous years. She hadn’t been fully prepared when she stepped out of her apartment this morning, but luckily her car harbored a secret second closet on the floor of her passenger side.

In another gust of wind, she caught scent of something earthy, similar to the smell of grass after a fresh rain. But not quite petrichor.

It left as quickly as it came.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket. A sense of something oily and nauseating gripped her stomach as she pulled it out, verified the ID, then sent it to voicemail. A few moments later, it vibrated again, so she shut it off.

A sense of calm washed over her as she stared into the cloudless sky. The thought of being trapped within the four walls of a musty classroom discussing ancient magic systems through the lens of old white men felt suffocating. It wouldn’t be the first time she skipped class, and she felt confident in her ability to identify the calm before the storm as it related to her mental health.

She had approximately one more phone call before the panic would set in.

She swiveled on her heel, intent to return the way she came, and go straight home. But a wall of flesh and stone stood in her way.

The first thing she noticed was the softness in which she was held. Cradled so she didn’t rebound and fall to the cement. Then, that scent of earth and rain and something smoky—vetiver. That’s what the smell had been. Vetiver.

“Woah. Where’s the fire, Darling?” Mahogany eyes gazed down at her beneath thick lashes. A cutting smile that promised something alluring and dangerous captured her attention. Dimples curled in the cheeks of Kol Mikaelson.

She stuttered out an apology and pushed out of his grip. A third time, her phone vibrated in her pocket.

She hadn’t meant to, but she caught his stare. Like a deer in headlights, she couldn’t pull away. Fear crept upon her throat. Fear that he could see through her, fear that he would simply know. She knew her fear wasn’t real. But something about the eyes being a window into the soul stayed with her, danced through her mind like a ribbon.

“Warn me next time and I’ll catch you properly,” he said, and winked at her.

Something foreign and warm fluttered in her stomach, and she couldn’t do anything but watch as he stepped around her and headed toward the next building over.

With shaking fingers, she pulled out her phone and answered. “What?” she asked through a broken voice. She cleared her throat and asked again.

[forgivenesslost]

Vertigo

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Y/N x Jean Kirstein

Rating: All

Your fingers drape over the lip of an open can of seltzer, tucked beneath crossed arms. The cracked wood of an open threshold digs into your shoulder, but it’s preferable to being within the crowd of sweat and cheap beer. 

Sasha and Niccolo don’t seem to notice anything but each other in the dim lighting. Connie, you spotted a while ago, hopping from one girl to the next. But you don’t recognize anyone else familiar to you here. No one you feel comfortable with, at least. Spotlights shine with the deepest blue, plugged in at every corner, and a mixture of laser lights weave in and out of the crowd. The music is loud enough to deafen your thoughts. If you close your eyes, it’s like no one else exists for a moment. 

A light brush against your arm tightens the fingers around your drink. Your eyes flicker down to the touch. Long, deft fingers linger at the tip of your elbow. Not an accident, then. Soft brown fabric bunches at the top of a muscular forearm. It stretches around the biceps and shoulders of someone familiar. 

Your heart flutters. The dim lighting darkens the eyes staring down at you from behind thick lashes. 

His fingers lift to the back of your arm and he leans down. Far enough away that he isn’t trying to kiss you. Close enough that you understand to give him your ear. 

His breath traces your ear and you bite down a shiver. You try to listen. Truly, you do. But between the noise of the music and the blood pounding in your ears, it isn’t possible. You shift away and make a motion that tells him you still can’t hear. 

There’s no way to describe the way he watches you. The intensity with which he listens and understands what you’re saying without needing words. His head tilts in a gesture. ‘Follow me,’ it says. 

You nod. The flutter in your stomach borders on nausea, but you can’t help yourself. You want to go with him. 

One glance at Sasha and Niccolo tells you not to interrupt. But you’re not an idiot. At least, not a full one. You don’t know Jean, but Sasha does. You hear of him often in Sasha’s stories of her past life, before college, before Niccolo. But you don’t personally know him. And you’re about to go somewhere with him. You imagine not far, but you play it safe anyway. 

You motion to Jean to wait for a moment while you send a text to Sasha. You don’t bother hiding it, because why should you? If Jean is as good a guy as Sasha claims he is, then he understands. 

He doesn’t move until the text is sent and you give him the go-ahead. He weaves in and out of the crowd with you. One arm brushes your back a few times as he guides, and the other arm moves bodies out of the way. 

A breath leaves your lips once you bypass the stairway and keep moving. He could have brought you to one of the many bedrooms upstairs. One of which is likely his own. But he doesn’t. He guides you to a door past the kitchen that opens into the back yard, where there’s a clear separation between the inner world of the party and the outer world, where the two of you now reside. 

Behind the house lies nothing more than a few concrete steps leading from the back door out into the grass. Your ears ring from the silence. 

“Sorry,” he says. At your questioning gaze, he continues. “To make you come out here with me. But it looked like you could use a breather.”

You loose a breath and sit on a step. “Yeah, good call. I’m not much of a partier.” Liquid in the can of seltzer sloshes, reminding you that it’s still half full. It’s not your first, and you can’t seem to bring yourself to drink any more of it. 

He sits next to you, jeaned thighs brushing against your bare ones. The months of loneliness and emptiness catch up to you and you find yourself wanting to press closer into him. But you can’t. You don’t know him. He’s not your rebound. And you’re not drunk enough to turn him into one. 

“What’s your major?” he asks. 

It’s comical the way your brain tags the question as so mundane and normal, it feels cliche. You don’t say anything, but your mouth twitches. “Counseling. You?”

He shrugs and balances his arms on his knees. “Interdisciplinary studies.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What’s your plan?” 

He shrugs again and smiles, looking up at the night sky. “I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Ambitious,” you quip, and it makes him laugh. You follow his gaze to the starry map. You’re no astronomer, but you can spot the Big Dipper, at least. You point it out to him. 

He follows your finger, then mimics you, and points out the Little Dipper. Frosted breath puffs from your lips as you chuckle. Goosebumps raise the flesh on your thighs and your hands are shivering, but you can’t seem to think of any other place you’d rather be in that moment. 

Wind gusts, and the scent of beer, cinnamon, and something you know down to your bones encapsulates you. The sky is clear, stars shining brighter with each passing second, but you sense it. 

“It’s going to snow,” you say. 

He looks at you then, a question glinting in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s in the forecast.”

You shake your head. “It’s not. But trust me. It’s going to snow tonight.”

“Care to make it a bet?” he asks. His smile widens with mirth. 

Your eyes narrow at him. “You want something.” 

His laugh is genuine, echoing in the otherwise silent night. “Only if you’re up for it.” 

You watch him for a moment. The way his smile lingers on his face, the way his molten chocolate eyes gaze down at you in full rapt attention. His ashen hair looks like it would glide through your fingers with ease. And for that full moment, you ached to kiss him. Instead, you ask, “What do you want? If you win.”

“A date,” he responds immediately. 

“With me?” you ask on reflex. Your cheeks warm as he laughs again. 

“Duh.”

“Oh.” You smile and reach down to tug at blades of grass. “Okay.”

“What about you? If you win, what do you want?”

You smooth a blade of grass between your fingertips. Is it really okay to ask for what you want? A date sounds…perfect. But it’s his wish. You can’t wish for the same thing, but you know you’re going to win. In your other hand, the drink feels heavier. If you drink it, will it give you courage to ask for what you want? Maybe. But you don’t want to rely on it. You take a deep breath. “I want a kiss.”

His gaze turns heavy, sharp as they assess you. Warmth floods your chest, chases away the chill on your skin. He wasn’t expecting that, you can tell. 

“With your consent, of course,” you add, because just earlier that night he mentioned a breakup. 

His grin widens and he leans back, gaze turned up toward the sky. “In that case,” he says, voice thick and twinged with something you can’t pinpoint. “I hope you win.”

The warmth rises to your cheeks. There’s truth in your response, even though you know this isn’t feasible. “I hope we both win. Somehow.”

The cards are dealt. The waiting begins. And less than an hour later, clouds roll in.

[forgivenesslost]

Vertigo

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Y/N x Jean Kirstein

Rating: All

The first time you meet Jean is at a football game. A freezing, mist-rainy night where stars are hidden behind bright lights and heavy clouds.

You don’t need to be here, but Sasha’s insistent. You haven’t been to a game, haven’t gone out with your friends, haven’t been yourself. Not since your joke of an ex.

Or so Sasha claims.

You’re grieving. And maybe, yes, there’s been some spiraling. But overall, you’re content to stay home in your pajamas, curled up on the couch with a glass or two of overly sweet wine that leaves you with a minor headache in the morning.

At the crack of thunder, you wonder if Sasha’s plan is to make you more or less willing to get out of the apartment. You open your mouth to question her aloud, when—

His boisterous voice echoes in the stands behind you. A deep, baritone in a mingled chorus that makes you wonder how you distinguish him in the first place.

Maybe in that moment, he’s just louder.

Maybe in that moment, he’s right next to you.

You can’t really tell until you glance behind at the crowd of what looks like fraternity brothers. All wearing the same red and white university tee. Some wear their baseball caps backward, some don’t have one at all.

You listen again to find the voice, but it all sounds like white noise now, as if giving it attention shrinks it, makes it retreat into the chest it reverberates from.

You again turn your attention to the game below and sigh. It’s not even halftime, yet. So, tuck your knees to your chest and wrap your arms around them. It’ll be a long night.

It doesn’t mist forever. At some point, the air clears. The clouds still hang in a low threat, but after checking your phone, you realize the storm won’t come until tomorrow.

Maybe you’ll make it through the night. Through the party Sasha will undoubtedly drag you to. Even though all you can think about is having a hot drink and going to bed. The chill in your fingers aches to the bone and you tuck them between your thighs.

“Sasha, did you see that?” One of the frat brothers from behind jumps down to shake Sasha’s shoulders and point out a play on the field. His ashen brown hair is cut close to the scalp, and his eyes are wide, glistening amber in the white stadium lights.

“Connie,” Sasha shouts. Her hand grasps for the paper bowl of fries before they tip over. “You’re gonna make me drop my food, you idiot.”

He screams and pulls his hands to his chest. “Don’t kill me, please!”

Then, you hear it.

A boisterous laugh as an arm drops around Connie’s shoulders. His grin is wide, the scruff around his chin neatly trimmed. “Careful, Connie.” The deep baritone you heard earlier. “Or she’ll eat you, instead.”

Without thinking, you shove a sleeve to your elbow and show your forearm. “I can attest to that.” A crescent of red marks adorn your skin. “I wasn’t fast enough.”

Connie looks terrified, and the stranger looks at you for the first time, at the marks on your arm, mouth agape. “Holy shit, Sash.”

Sasha’s face reddens, and she hides by stuffing fries in her mouth. “I told you not to show anyone that.”

“I told you not to bite me,” the retort falls flat, as your attention is elsewhere.

She grumbles, looking back toward the field. Her eyes perk up and she waves the way only Sasha can. “Hey, Niccolo!”

The blonde man stands at the edge of the field, arm hooked around his helmet. His grin widens as he sees her, and waves back.

“Hey, you live with Sasha, right? How come we haven’t met before?”

You look back at him, at his dark chocolate eyes that stall your breath, and shrug. “I don’t get out much.”

“She was dating some jackass, but now she’s sulking over some jackass.” Sasha says, then sends a fist of fries between her lips.

You frown, cheeks warming. Cracks in the metal bench at your feet catch your attention, but eyes are on you. You feel it on your skin, scorching down to your bones. “I’m not—I’m not sulking. I’m… processing.”

She hums in disbelief.

You’re thankful for the food squishing between her cheeks and preventing her from saying anything more.

The guy Sasha calls Connie snaps. “Oh yeah, I know you.” He says your name, and connects the dots. “You dated Reiner.”

You hum in acknowledgement. The sound of his name still twists your stomach into knots. It was close to three years when he broke it off. That was over a month ago now. At the time, you didn’t notice the signs. You do now, thinking back to when he cancelled plans last minute, stopped texting good morning and goodnight, somehow going ghost in the middle of a conversation. You chalked it up to academic stress. You know better now.

She stands on the track running around the field now. A pretty blonde with bright blue eyes and the physique of a flier fit for the cheer squad. You have enough classes with her now that you also know how kind and genuine she is. You can’t fault him. Not when people like her exist in the world.

A sharp slap echoes off the metal benches. A stinging pain climbed along your thigh and you jerked away. Eyebrows furrowed, your gaze whips to Sasha. “What the hell, Sash?”

The intensity of her own stare stills you. “I can tell when you’re being self-deprecating. You need to stop that shit.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” you insist, but the truth in her words shakes yours.

She sighs. “You don’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” She turns toward the game as the buzzer signals the end of halftime. “Look, Historia’s great and all, but if Reiner were serious about you, he wouldn’t have even seen her.”

There’s a retort sitting at the tip of your tongue. She doesn’t know that. But you can’t find the will to disagree with her.

You hear his voice again, just as deep, but softer, and aimed toward you. “Sasha’s right. When I was with Mikasa, I didn’t notice anyone else. I’m not saying I’m better than Reiner, just—thought you should know—”

Connie slaps him on his back, attention fully laid on the field. “Shut up, Jean, we’re winning!”

“Hey,” Jean yells at Connie in retaliation, but he and Sasha are too busy blending their noise with the crowd as Sasha’s boyfriend runs across the field.

Chocolate brown eyes catch yours, flickering from the shine of stadium lights. Warmth blossoms in your chest like Sakura trees in spring. Unfurling, cracking the shield you so carefully draw each and every morning you step out of the door.

‘Thank you,’ you mouth to him, and the soft smile he returns is worth it.

[miiroki]

𝐓𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐔𝐩 ┅ 𝖡𝖺𝗄𝗎𝗀𝗈𝗎 𝖪𝖺𝗍𝗌𝗎𝗄𝗂 & 𝖦𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘨𝘺 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘉𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘨𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴.

﹙𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹚

UA HIGH COMMON ROOMS:

The room is noisy in that unique way that only a girls' night out can be—soft music playing, snacks strewn about, one girl braiding the hair of another. The summer heat still lingers on your skin from the whole day spent outside, but the air conditioning is humming quietly while you all lie sprawled out on beds and the floor.

The chatter begins innocently. Crushes, then relationships, then the details.

“Okay but—” Mina flops onto her stomach, kicking her feet in the air, eyes locking onto you with a grin that’s way too knowing. “I need to understand something.”

You already know where this is going.

She props her chin in her hands. “What is so good about Bakugou?”

The room goes quiet for half a second, and then explodes.

“Right?!” Asui’s voice echoes faintly from the other room.

“He’s so mean!” Hagakure adds.

“He is intense, but I can imagine he’s different when you get close to him,” Yaoyorozu corrects politely, though she looks just as curious.

All eyes land on you.

You roll your eyes, grabbing a chip just to give yourself a second. “You guys don’t know him like I do.”

Mina narrows her eyes. “That’s exactly why I’m asking.”

And for a moment, you don’t answer.

Because yeah—on the outside? They’re not wrong.

You think about the first time he snapped at you during training, his sharp words, harsh tone, not even looking at you when he walked off. You remember standing there, embarrassed, annoyed and a little hurt.

You’d ignored him the rest of the day.

Until later.

Until he showed up at your door that night, he didn’t knock, he just stood there when you opened it, arms crossed, jaw tight.

“…You were off your game,” he muttered.

You’d stared at him. “Wow. That’s a great apology.”

His scowl deepened. “That wasn’t—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. Then, quieter, rougher, “I pushed you too hard.”

That had surprised you more than anything.

Bakugou didn’t say sorry easily. Even after all these years together he didn’t say it cleanly. But he’d stood there anyway, awkward and stubborn, refusing to leave until you let him in.

And then he stayed in your dorm, he didn’t say much. Except the large arms wrapped around you spoke larger volumes.

You blink back to the present, realizing everyone’s still waiting.

Mina waves a hand in front of your face, smirking. “Helloooo? You just zoned out thinking about him, didn’t you?”

A few giggles ripple through the room.

You sigh, but there’s a small smile tugging at your lips now.

“He’s…a lot that’s for sure” you admit.

“Understatement of the year,” Jirou mutters.

“But,” you continue, sitting up a little straighter, “he always makes it right.”

They quiet down again.

You think about another time, when he forgot something important. A date, the day of your first date to be more specific. Not even a big one, just something that mattered to you. You hadn’t told him, but you’d hoped he’d remember.

He didn’t.

It was the silent treatment for him yet again.

But the next morning? He cornered you before class, clearly already irritated—at himself, not you.

“…I screwed up.”

No excuses, and no deflecting.

Then, later that week, he dragged you out—complaining the whole time—only for it to turn into something ridiculously thought out. Your favorite food, your favorite spot, things you’d mentioned once in passing.

The whole day revolved around you, he bought everything you wanted, despite your protests. And he even managed to smile.

He remembered, just a day late.

“…He messes up sometimes,” you say now, softer. “A lot, actually.”

Mina raises a brow like exactly.

“But he never half-asses fixing it, we all know that about him,” you add. “If he thinks he hurt me, he goes overboard trying to make it up.”

There’s a pause.

You glance down at your hands, then shrug lightly. “He doesn’t do things the normal way. But he cares. A lot.”

“Like, scary a lot,” you mumble under your breath.

Jirou snorts.

Yaoyorozu hums thoughtfully. “That does sound like him, in a way.”

Hagakure leans forward. “Okay but like, does he ever say anything nice??”

You hesitate.

Then you huff out a quiet laugh.

“Not really,” you admit. “At least not like you’d expect.”

Mina groans dramatically. “Girl—”

“But,” you cut in, “he shows it.”

And you don’t say more than that.

You don’t mention the way he always walks slightly behind you or beside you in crowded places, always making sure you’re in his line of sight. Always aligning his body to slightly shield you whenever you stop to look at something.

Or how he memorized your schedule without telling you.

Or how his hand always finds yours when no one’s looking.

Across the room, Mina studies you for a second longer then slowly grins.

“Oh my god,” she says. “You’re so down bad.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Shut up, you asked.”

The room bursts into laughter again, the tension breaking just like that.

But as the noise picks back up, your phone buzzes quietly beside you.

You glance down.

Suki🫪: You ate?

You smile small and automatic.

And type back: Yeah. Did you?

The reply comes almost instantly.

Suki🫪: Don’t worry about me. Just don’t skip meals, idiot.

You roll your eyes, but your chest feels warm.

Yeah.

They don’t get it.

But you do.

—

UA HIGH COMMON ROOMS:

The other common room next door is packed tonight, third years have way more freedom, which apparently means more chaos. Someone’s got music playing, Kaminari’s laughing too loud at something dumb, and Kirishima is in the middle of what looks like a very serious “bro discussion.”

Which quickly turns into everyone ganging up on one person.

“Alright, Bakugou,” Kaminari says, pointing like he’s finally cracked a mystery. “From man to fellow man, enough dodging.”

Across the room, Katsuki Bakugou barely glances up from his drink. “I’m not dodging anything. You’re just annoying.”

“Bro,” Sero cuts in, “you literally have a girlfriend.”

Bakugou’s eyes narrow. “…So?”

“So??” Kaminari practically launches off the couch. “SO—how?!”

Kirishima leans forward, grinning. “C’mon, man, we’re in our last year and half of us are still single. Help us out.”

Bakugou scoffs. “Skill issue.”

“THAT’S NOT ADVICE,” Kaminari yells.

Shouji chuckles. “Seriously though, what did you even do? Like how’d you pull her?”

That gets a reaction.

Bakugou’s glare sharpens instantly. “The hell do you mean ‘pull’?”

“Okay, bad wording—” Shouji starts.

“Yeah, real bad,” Kirishima mutters.

Bakugou clicks his tongue, leaning back like this is already a waste of time. “You idiots act like it’s some game.”

“…Is it not?” Sero asks.

“No,” Bakugou says flatly. “That’s why you keep screwing it up.”

There’s a pause.

Kirishima crosses his arms, still smiling but more thoughtful now. “Alright, then what is it?”

Bakugou doesn’t answer right away.

For a second, his gaze shifts—just slightly—toward the hallway. Or, more accurately the room that the hallway leads to.

Then he looks back, expression settling into something firm.

“…You stop acting like you need one,” he says.

Kaminari blinks. “What?”

“If you’re desperate, it shows,” Bakugou continues. “And it’s annoying as hell.”

Sero groans. “Great. So we’re doomed.”

“Pretty much,” Bakugou mutters.

Kirishima chuckles. “C’mon, there’s gotta be more to it than that.”

Bakugou exhales sharply, like he’s debating whether to even bother.

“…You find someone who can actually keep up,” he says finally. “Not just in fights. In everything.”

“Everything?” Kaminari echoes.

“Yeah. Someone who doesn’t back down every time you push them. Someone who calls you out when you’re being an idiot.”

There’s a beat.

Sero raises a brow. “I know damn well she does that to you.”

Bakugou shoots him a look. “Watch it.”

Kirishima grins wider. “Sounds kinda perfect for you, man.”

Bakugou doesn’t deny it.

Instead, he keeps going, voice a little lower now, but still steady.

“You don’t lie to her. You don’t play games. If you screw up, you fix it.” His jaw tightens slightly. “And you don’t half-ass it.”

Kaminari tilts his head. “…You’ve screwed up before?”

Bakugou glares. “Obviously. I’m not you—I actually learn from it.”

“HEY—”

Sero laughs under his breath. “So what, you just… pay attention and don’t be an idiot?”

“Exactly,” Bakugou says.

They all stare at him.

“…That sounds too simple,” Kaminari says.

“That’s because you overcomplicate everything,” Bakugou snaps. “It’s not about impressing her with stupid crap. It’s about knowing her.”

“Knowing what matters to her,” he adds. “Even the small stuff. That’s all really.”

The room goes still again.

Kirishima’s smile softens a little. “You really like her, huh?”

Bakugou doesn’t even hesitate. “Yeah.”

It’s blunt, just like how he normally is. No embarrassment, no hesitation.

Kaminari exhales dramatically. “Man…we’re never catching up. Why do you gotta be so damn good at everything?”

Sero nods. “Yeah, we’re done for.”

Bakugou snorts, standing up and stretching like the conversation’s over. “Damn right you are.”

Kirishima laughs. “At least give us one last tip, man.”

Bakugou glances back at them, already halfway to leaving.

“…Don’t look for someone like mine,” he says.

They perk up instantly.

“Why not?” Kaminari asks.

Bakugou smirks—sharp, a little cocky, but not entirely joking.

“Because you won’t find her,” he says. “There’s only one.”

And with that, he walks off.

The boys sit there in stunned silence for about two seconds.

“HE’S SO GATEKEEPING, LEMME AT HIM!” Mineta shouts.

“BRO DID NOT JUST SAY THAT—”

“NAH, I RESPECT IT,” Kirishima laughs.

But Bakugou’s already gone, hands in his pockets, heading down the hall.

And when he spots you at the far end, leaning against the wall, waiting like you knew he’d show up, his whole expression shifts, just slightly.

“Finally,” he mutters as he reaches you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Took you long enough.”

—

YOUR DORM ROOM:

Your dorm room is quieter than the rest of the floor, soft music playing low, lights dimmed just enough to feel calm after the chaos of the night.

You’re sitting against your headboard, legs stretched out, while Katsuki Bakugou lies across your bed with his head in your lap like it’s the most natural place in the world.

It kind of is for him.

Your fingers move absentmindedly through his blond hair, slow and gentle. For a guy who doesn’t care about his hair, it’s surprisingly soft.

“They’re all idiots.”

You huff a small laugh, not even surprised. “Which ones?”

“All of them,” he mutters instantly.

You smile a little, looking down at him. “That narrows it down.”

He cracks one eye open to glare up at you, but there’s no real bite to it. “Don’t play dumb. Your little gossip session was loud as hell.”

“Oh please,” you scoff. “Like yours wasn’t?”

That earns a quiet ‘tch’, but he doesn’t deny it.

There’s a brief pause, your hand still combing through his hair.

“They asked me how to get a girl,” he says flatly.

You blink. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” His lip curls slightly. “Like I’m gonna give them some step-by-step guide or some shit.”

You laugh softly. “What did you say?”

“That they’re screwed.”

“Wow. Helpful.”

“They are,” he insists, shifting just slightly so he’s more comfortable against you. “They keep overthinking everything. Acting like it’s some big strategy.”

You tilt your head. “And you don’t?”

He snorts. “Hell no.”

Your fingers pause for a second before continuing. “The girls asked me about you.”

That gets his attention.

Both eyes open now, sharp red flicking up to meet yours. “Yeah?”

You hum. “Mina wanted to know what’s ‘so good’ about you.”

His brows knit together immediately. “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

You grin. “Her words, not mine.”

He clicks his tongue, looking away again. “Extras don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Mm,” you murmur. “That’s what I said too. Of course minus the extra.”

There’s a small silence after that, comfortable, warm.

Then he speaks again, quieter this time.

“…They don’t get it.”

You look down at him, softer now. “No. They don’t.”

Your hand slows in his hair, tracing lightly along his scalp, and he exhales, barely noticeable, but you feel it.

“They think it’s about saying the right crap,” he continues. “Or acting a certain way.”

You nod faintly. “The girls said something similar.”

“Tch.” His jaw tightens just a little. “It’s not.”

You don’t interrupt this time.

“You just…know,” he says, like it’s obvious. “When it’s right.”

Your chest tightens slightly at that, but you keep your voice light. “Oh yeah? And how’d you figure that out?”

He goes quiet.

For a second, you think he won’t answer.

“You didn’t back down.”

You blink.

He doesn’t look at you, eyes fixed somewhere off to the side, but his voice is steady.

“Everyone else either got pissed off or avoided me,” he mutters. “You didn’t.”

A small smile tugs at your lips.

“You kept up,” he adds. “Called me out when I was being an ass.”

“Which is often,” you tease.

He huffs. “Yeah, yeah.”

Your fingers brush lightly against his temple, softer now.

“And you didn’t treat me like I was too much,” he finishes, quieter than before.

You swallow slightly, your chest warm. “You are a lot, you know.”

His eyes flick back up to you, a faint smirk forming. “Didn’t say I wasn’t.”

You shake your head, smiling.

“They’d never get it,” he mutters again.

You raise a brow. “Wow. Still on that?”

“Yeah,” he says simply. “They’re all looking for something easy.”

“…You’re not easy.”

You snort. “Gee, thanks.”

“Not like that,” he says, annoyed. “I mean you’re not fake. You don’t just go along with shit.”

Your hand stills for a second in his hair. “And I like that,” he adds, quieter.

You smile softly, resuming your gentle motions. “Good. Because I’m not changing.”

“Didn’t ask you to.”

Another comfortable silence settles over the room.

Outside, you can hear faint laughter from the rest of the dorms, but here, it feels like your own little world.

After a minute, you glance down at him again.

“So,” you murmur, teasing, “you really told them they’ll never find someone like me?”

A pause.

Then he scoffs, looking away again, but there’s a hint of something smug there.

“It’s true.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head.

“Cocky,” you whisper.

“Realistic,” he corrects.

Your fingers slide through his hair one more time, slow and fond.