i am not a shipper and everyone that knows me knows that. however, the regina and rodrick ship is the best ship ever. i love a hot preppy girl and a punk/emo guy.
yall i got fired from my job of 12 years, and the state of america is genuinely horrible and so i barely can afford to feed myself. been real shit about updating the megumi smau series but i will be getting to that once i figure my life out âđœ got 65$ in my account and no income đ„Č so yeah. and my new job dont start for a week. hate it here. thanks trump.
love you all tho and i will update soon and try to be more active.
synopsis: it's 12:00 a.m. in a deserted parking lot, your phone is at 5%, and your tire is flat. you're halfway through a practical breakdown when the campus bad boy with the pretty eyes and the not so amazing reputation actually stops to help. he doesn't want your money, he doesn't want to talk, and he definitely doesn't want your coffee, but you're not letting him go that easily.
wk: 1.6k masterlist
the library closes at midnight during finals, which is the only reason you were allowed to stay that late, and the only reason youâre now standing in a mostly empty parking lot at 12:09 a.m. with a very flat tire and a phone that reads 5%.
you donât know how to change a tire.
youâve never needed to. whenever somethingâs gone wrong with your car, you call your dad, or one of the guys from the team, or literally anyone else, because people help you and itâs never been a problem before. but itâs late now, your dadâs three states away, the group chat hasnât responded, and the tire is actually flat. not low, flat, the rim sitting on asphalt, and youâve been standing here for ten minutes doing nothing because you genuinely donât know what youâre supposed to do.
youâre crying a little. not a lot. just the frustrated kind that happens when youâre exhausted and nothing is going right and you spent four hours studying calculus and you still donât get it and now youâre stranded and your phone is about to die.
âyou good?â
you turn around, swiping at your face quickly. the wind catches the back of your neck, making you shiver in your thin hoodie. it takes you a second to place him.
dark hair. dark blue eyes. taller. good-looking in a way that almost sticks with you. youâve seen him at partiesâŠalways in the corner, usually smoking a joint, looking like heâd rather be anywhere else. you donât know his name, but you know the vague details: gets into fights, keeps to himself, runs with the kind of people who are always getting into trouble.
heâs looking at you with a face thatâs a total blank, like a steel shutter pulled down over whatever is going through his head. most people would find it intimidating, but if calculus isn't your forte, reading people definitely is.
âoh my god, hi.â you gesture at your car. âmy tireâs flat. i literally have like no idea what to do, my phoneâs about to die, no oneâs answeringâŠitâs like a whole thing. can you like, help? please. iâll do anything.â
he looks at the tire, then back at you. âyou have a spare?â
âum.â you think about it, biting your lip because youâre really not sure. cars are supposed to have spares right? so the chances are pretty high. âprobably? iâve never looked.â
he doesnât say anything, just walks past you to the back of your car and opens the trunk. you step aside and watch him move your gym bag, a blanket, a bag of trash that you swore you were going to throw awayâŠtwo months ago. he pulls up the bottom panel and thereâs a smaller tire underneath, plus some tools.
âyou have one,â he says.
âoh, perfect. i didnât even know that was in there.â
heâs already pulling things out, crouching near the flat tire with one of the metal tools, and you realize heâs just going to do it. no discussion. no waiting for you to ask.
the night air is biting, making your ears sting, and every time a distant car engine revs, you jump a little. but megumi is like a localized pocket of calm. he doesn't seem to notice the cold or the creepy silence of the campus this late in the evening.
âoh. uhm- thank you so much,â you say. âseriously. youâre like totally saving me right now.â
he doesnât respond. heâs loosening something on the tire, working fast like heâs done this a hundred times.
you lean against the side of your car and watch him. the parking lotâs quiet, mostly empty except for a few cars scattered near the other buildings. his eyes look focused and you notice how thick his eyelashes are, and the way his dark hair falls across his face as he works.
you should probably let him focus, but silence has never really been your thing.
âi was studying,â you say. âi have a calc test tomorrow and iâm literally going to fail. like, actually fail. my professorâs so bad, he just talks and doesnât explain anything, and iâve gone to every class but i still donât get any of it.â
he pulls the flat tire off and sets it aside. doesnât look up.
âiâm y/n, by the way. i feel like iâve seen you around, like at parties and stuff?â
âmegumi,â he says, not looking at you.
âmegumi.â you repeat it back, testing how it sounds. âthatâs cute. i like that.â
heâs putting the spare on now, and you notice his hands. nice hands, actually, kind of unfairly nice, and the way he moves like this is boring to him. easy. like heâs trying to get this over with as fast as he possibly can.
âyou donât talk much, do you?â
âno.â
âthatâs okay. i talk enough for two people anyway.â you pull your phone out to check it. 4%. âdo you live on campus or off? iâm off, like two miles that way. my roommateâs probably asleep, she has an eight a.m., which like ew, could never be me. i would simply not survive.â
he tightens something, his shoulders shifting under his jacket.
âare you in a frat? wait, no, youâre definitely not in a frat. i donât know why i asked that. you donât have the vibe. not in a bad way. just like, youâre kind ofââ you wave your hand vaguely. âi donât know. you donât look like a douche or whatever. not that all frat guys are douches, like some guys are super cool obviously i hang out with them andââ
he stands up, brushing his hands off on his jeans and cuts you off. âdone.â
you look at the tire. itâs on. it looks normal. you have absolutely no idea what he just did, but your car has four functioning tires again and thatâs all that matters.
âoh my god, thank you. seriously. that was so fast. do you just know how to do that? like, is that a thing people know?â
heâs putting the flat tire and the tools back in your trunk, and when he reaches past you to toss the jack in, you catch the scent of himâŠcold air, laundry detergent, and a faint, earthy trace of something like sandalwood. for a split second, the space between you felt very small, and very warm. but then you look up, making the briefest eye contact with him, and you can tell heâs about to leave. just fix it and disappear.
âwait.â you push off from the car. âlet me get your number. i wanna thank you for real. coffee or dinner or something. i could even pay you.â
âyou donât have to do that.â
âi want to, though.â
âiâm good.â he closes the trunk.
âokay, but iâm not, because you literally just helped me and i canât just let you walk away like it didnât happen. thatâs weird. i have to repay you somehow.â
âitâs a tire.â
âitâs a tire that i would still be staring at and crying over if you hadnât shown up.â you hold your phone out toward him. âjust put your number in. please? iâll buy you food. you look like you eat food.â you smile, big and white and pearly. the kind of smile that always has you get your way.
he looks at your phone, then at you. something flickers across his face, annoyance, maybe, but also something else. like heâs trying to figure out why youâre still talking.
âi donât need you to buy me food.â
âitâs not about need, itâs about like thanking you. do you not let people thank you? thatâs kind of rude, actually.â youâre smiling when you say it, you donât mean it in a bad way itâs just when someone does something nice you thank themâŠitâs the order of things. âcome on. one coffee. you can even ignore me while you drink it. i donât care.â
he stares at you for a second. you keep the phone extended between you, not backing down.
âyouâre not gonna let this go,â he says.
ânope.â
he doesnât take the phone immediately. he just looks at youâŠnot at your car, or the tire, but at you, for a beat too long. his eyes are like the ocean at night, dark and impossible to see the bottom of. then, with a sigh that sounds like he is losing a war, he snatches the phone from your hand, typing something in, then hands it back without looking at you.
âthere.â
you glance at the screen. megumi, and a number. no emoji, no last name, nothing extra. very on brand.
âthank you.â youâre smiling again, genuine. âiâll text you.â
âyou donât have to.â
âiâm going to, though.â
heâs already stepping back, putting distance between you, and he does that thing, the lazy wave without looking, dismissive, like this whole interaction is already fading from his memory.
âget home safe,â he says, and it sounds almost sarcastic, except it also sounds like he might actually mean it.
âi will. thanks to you.â you wave at his back. âbye, megumi!â
he doesnât respond. rounds the corner. gone.
you stand there for a second, looking at the new contact in your phone. the battery warning flashes, 3% now, but you donât care.
your phone buzzes. the group chat, finally: sorry babe we were asleep!! are you okay???
you look at the corner where he disappeared, then back at your screen, then at your car with its new tire.
synopsis: it's 12:00 a.m. in a deserted parking lot, your phone is at 5%, and your tire is flat. you're halfway through a practical breakdown when the campus bad boy with the pretty eyes and the not so amazing reputation actually stops to help. he doesn't want your money, he doesn't want to talk, and he definitely doesn't want your coffee, but you're not letting him go that easily.
wk: 1.6k masterlist
the library closes at midnight during finals, which is the only reason you were allowed to stay that late, and the only reason youâre now standing in a mostly empty parking lot at 12:09 a.m. with a very flat tire and a phone that reads 5%.
you donât know how to change a tire.
youâve never needed to. whenever somethingâs gone wrong with your car, you call your dad, or one of the guys from the team, or literally anyone else, because people help you and itâs never been a problem before. but itâs late now, your dadâs three states away, the group chat hasnât responded, and the tire is actually flat. not low, flat, the rim sitting on asphalt, and youâve been standing here for ten minutes doing nothing because you genuinely donât know what youâre supposed to do.
youâre crying a little. not a lot. just the frustrated kind that happens when youâre exhausted and nothing is going right and you spent four hours studying calculus and you still donât get it and now youâre stranded and your phone is about to die.
âyou good?â
you turn around, swiping at your face quickly. the wind catches the back of your neck, making you shiver in your thin hoodie. it takes you a second to place him.
dark hair. dark blue eyes. taller. good-looking in a way that almost sticks with you. youâve seen him at partiesâŠalways in the corner, usually smoking a joint, looking like heâd rather be anywhere else. you donât know his name, but you know the vague details: gets into fights, keeps to himself, runs with the kind of people who are always getting into trouble.
heâs looking at you with a face thatâs a total blank, like a steel shutter pulled down over whatever is going through his head. most people would find it intimidating, but if calculus isn't your forte, reading people definitely is.
âoh my god, hi.â you gesture at your car. âmy tireâs flat. i literally have like no idea what to do, my phoneâs about to die, no oneâs answeringâŠitâs like a whole thing. can you like, help? please. iâll do anything.â
he looks at the tire, then back at you. âyou have a spare?â
âum.â you think about it, biting your lip because youâre really not sure. cars are supposed to have spares right? so the chances are pretty high. âprobably? iâve never looked.â
he doesnât say anything, just walks past you to the back of your car and opens the trunk. you step aside and watch him move your gym bag, a blanket, a bag of trash that you swore you were going to throw awayâŠtwo months ago. he pulls up the bottom panel and thereâs a smaller tire underneath, plus some tools.
âyou have one,â he says.
âoh, perfect. i didnât even know that was in there.â
heâs already pulling things out, crouching near the flat tire with one of the metal tools, and you realize heâs just going to do it. no discussion. no waiting for you to ask.
the night air is biting, making your ears sting, and every time a distant car engine revs, you jump a little. but megumi is like a localized pocket of calm. he doesn't seem to notice the cold or the creepy silence of the campus this late in the evening.
âoh. uhm- thank you so much,â you say. âseriously. youâre like totally saving me right now.â
he doesnât respond. heâs loosening something on the tire, working fast like heâs done this a hundred times.
you lean against the side of your car and watch him. the parking lotâs quiet, mostly empty except for a few cars scattered near the other buildings. his eyes look focused and you notice how thick his eyelashes are, and the way his dark hair falls across his face as he works.
you should probably let him focus, but silence has never really been your thing.
âi was studying,â you say. âi have a calc test tomorrow and iâm literally going to fail. like, actually fail. my professorâs so bad, he just talks and doesnât explain anything, and iâve gone to every class but i still donât get any of it.â
he pulls the flat tire off and sets it aside. doesnât look up.
âiâm y/n, by the way. i feel like iâve seen you around, like at parties and stuff?â
âmegumi,â he says, not looking at you.
âmegumi.â you repeat it back, testing how it sounds. âthatâs cute. i like that.â
heâs putting the spare on now, and you notice his hands. nice hands, actually, kind of unfairly nice, and the way he moves like this is boring to him. easy. like heâs trying to get this over with as fast as he possibly can.
âyou donât talk much, do you?â
âno.â
âthatâs okay. i talk enough for two people anyway.â you pull your phone out to check it. 4%. âdo you live on campus or off? iâm off, like two miles that way. my roommateâs probably asleep, she has an eight a.m., which like ew, could never be me. i would simply not survive.â
he tightens something, his shoulders shifting under his jacket.
âare you in a frat? wait, no, youâre definitely not in a frat. i donât know why i asked that. you donât have the vibe. not in a bad way. just like, youâre kind ofââ you wave your hand vaguely. âi donât know. you donât look like a douche or whatever. not that all frat guys are douches, like some guys are super cool obviously i hang out with them andââ
he stands up, brushing his hands off on his jeans and cuts you off. âdone.â
you look at the tire. itâs on. it looks normal. you have absolutely no idea what he just did, but your car has four functioning tires again and thatâs all that matters.
âoh my god, thank you. seriously. that was so fast. do you just know how to do that? like, is that a thing people know?â
heâs putting the flat tire and the tools back in your trunk, and when he reaches past you to toss the jack in, you catch the scent of himâŠcold air, laundry detergent, and a faint, earthy trace of something like sandalwood. for a split second, the space between you felt very small, and very warm. but then you look up, making the briefest eye contact with him, and you can tell heâs about to leave. just fix it and disappear.
âwait.â you push off from the car. âlet me get your number. i wanna thank you for real. coffee or dinner or something. i could even pay you.â
âyou donât have to do that.â
âi want to, though.â
âiâm good.â he closes the trunk.
âokay, but iâm not, because you literally just helped me and i canât just let you walk away like it didnât happen. thatâs weird. i have to repay you somehow.â
âitâs a tire.â
âitâs a tire that i would still be staring at and crying over if you hadnât shown up.â you hold your phone out toward him. âjust put your number in. please? iâll buy you food. you look like you eat food.â you smile, big and white and pearly. the kind of smile that always has you get your way.
he looks at your phone, then at you. something flickers across his face, annoyance, maybe, but also something else. like heâs trying to figure out why youâre still talking.
âi donât need you to buy me food.â
âitâs not about need, itâs about like thanking you. do you not let people thank you? thatâs kind of rude, actually.â youâre smiling when you say it, you donât mean it in a bad way itâs just when someone does something nice you thank themâŠitâs the order of things. âcome on. one coffee. you can even ignore me while you drink it. i donât care.â
he stares at you for a second. you keep the phone extended between you, not backing down.
âyouâre not gonna let this go,â he says.
ânope.â
he doesnât take the phone immediately. he just looks at youâŠnot at your car, or the tire, but at you, for a beat too long. his eyes are like the ocean at night, dark and impossible to see the bottom of. then, with a sigh that sounds like he is losing a war, he snatches the phone from your hand, typing something in, then hands it back without looking at you.
âthere.â
you glance at the screen. megumi, and a number. no emoji, no last name, nothing extra. very on brand.
âthank you.â youâre smiling again, genuine. âiâll text you.â
âyou donât have to.â
âiâm going to, though.â
heâs already stepping back, putting distance between you, and he does that thing, the lazy wave without looking, dismissive, like this whole interaction is already fading from his memory.
âget home safe,â he says, and it sounds almost sarcastic, except it also sounds like he might actually mean it.
âi will. thanks to you.â you wave at his back. âbye, megumi!â
he doesnât respond. rounds the corner. gone.
you stand there for a second, looking at the new contact in your phone. the battery warning flashes, 3% now, but you donât care.
your phone buzzes. the group chat, finally: sorry babe we were asleep!! are you okay???
you look at the corner where he disappeared, then back at your screen, then at your car with its new tire.
synopsis: it's 12:00 a.m. in a deserted parking lot, your phone is at 5%, and your tire is flat. you're halfway through a practical breakdown when the campus bad boy with the pretty eyes and the not so amazing reputation actually stops to help. he doesn't want your money, he doesn't want to talk, and he definitely doesn't want your coffee, but you're not letting him go that easily.
wk: 1.6k masterlist
the library closes at midnight during finals, which is the only reason you were allowed to stay that late, and the only reason youâre now standing in a mostly empty parking lot at 12:09 a.m. with a very flat tire and a phone that reads 5%.
you donât know how to change a tire.
youâve never needed to. whenever somethingâs gone wrong with your car, you call your dad, or one of the guys from the team, or literally anyone else, because people help you and itâs never been a problem before. but itâs late now, your dadâs three states away, the group chat hasnât responded, and the tire is actually flat. not low, flat, the rim sitting on asphalt, and youâve been standing here for ten minutes doing nothing because you genuinely donât know what youâre supposed to do.
youâre crying a little. not a lot. just the frustrated kind that happens when youâre exhausted and nothing is going right and you spent four hours studying calculus and you still donât get it and now youâre stranded and your phone is about to die.
âyou good?â
you turn around, swiping at your face quickly. the wind catches the back of your neck, making you shiver in your thin hoodie. it takes you a second to place him.
dark hair. dark blue eyes. taller. good-looking in a way that almost sticks with you. youâve seen him at partiesâŠalways in the corner, usually smoking a joint, looking like heâd rather be anywhere else. you donât know his name, but you know the vague details: gets into fights, keeps to himself, runs with the kind of people who are always getting into trouble.
heâs looking at you with a face thatâs a total blank, like a steel shutter pulled down over whatever is going through his head. most people would find it intimidating, but if calculus isn't your forte, reading people definitely is.
âoh my god, hi.â you gesture at your car. âmy tireâs flat. i literally have like no idea what to do, my phoneâs about to die, no oneâs answeringâŠitâs like a whole thing. can you like, help? please. iâll do anything.â
he looks at the tire, then back at you. âyou have a spare?â
âum.â you think about it, biting your lip because youâre really not sure. cars are supposed to have spares right? so the chances are pretty high. âprobably? iâve never looked.â
he doesnât say anything, just walks past you to the back of your car and opens the trunk. you step aside and watch him move your gym bag, a blanket, a bag of trash that you swore you were going to throw awayâŠtwo months ago. he pulls up the bottom panel and thereâs a smaller tire underneath, plus some tools.
âyou have one,â he says.
âoh, perfect. i didnât even know that was in there.â
heâs already pulling things out, crouching near the flat tire with one of the metal tools, and you realize heâs just going to do it. no discussion. no waiting for you to ask.
the night air is biting, making your ears sting, and every time a distant car engine revs, you jump a little. but megumi is like a localized pocket of calm. he doesn't seem to notice the cold or the creepy silence of the campus this late in the evening.
âoh. uhm- thank you so much,â you say. âseriously. youâre like totally saving me right now.â
he doesnât respond. heâs loosening something on the tire, working fast like heâs done this a hundred times.
you lean against the side of your car and watch him. the parking lotâs quiet, mostly empty except for a few cars scattered near the other buildings. his eyes look focused and you notice how thick his eyelashes are, and the way his dark hair falls across his face as he works.
you should probably let him focus, but silence has never really been your thing.
âi was studying,â you say. âi have a calc test tomorrow and iâm literally going to fail. like, actually fail. my professorâs so bad, he just talks and doesnât explain anything, and iâve gone to every class but i still donât get any of it.â
he pulls the flat tire off and sets it aside. doesnât look up.
âiâm y/n, by the way. i feel like iâve seen you around, like at parties and stuff?â
âmegumi,â he says, not looking at you.
âmegumi.â you repeat it back, testing how it sounds. âthatâs cute. i like that.â
heâs putting the spare on now, and you notice his hands. nice hands, actually, kind of unfairly nice, and the way he moves like this is boring to him. easy. like heâs trying to get this over with as fast as he possibly can.
âyou donât talk much, do you?â
âno.â
âthatâs okay. i talk enough for two people anyway.â you pull your phone out to check it. 4%. âdo you live on campus or off? iâm off, like two miles that way. my roommateâs probably asleep, she has an eight a.m., which like ew, could never be me. i would simply not survive.â
he tightens something, his shoulders shifting under his jacket.
âare you in a frat? wait, no, youâre definitely not in a frat. i donât know why i asked that. you donât have the vibe. not in a bad way. just like, youâre kind ofââ you wave your hand vaguely. âi donât know. you donât look like a douche or whatever. not that all frat guys are douches, like some guys are super cool obviously i hang out with them andââ
he stands up, brushing his hands off on his jeans and cuts you off. âdone.â
you look at the tire. itâs on. it looks normal. you have absolutely no idea what he just did, but your car has four functioning tires again and thatâs all that matters.
âoh my god, thank you. seriously. that was so fast. do you just know how to do that? like, is that a thing people know?â
heâs putting the flat tire and the tools back in your trunk, and when he reaches past you to toss the jack in, you catch the scent of himâŠcold air, laundry detergent, and a faint, earthy trace of something like sandalwood. for a split second, the space between you felt very small, and very warm. but then you look up, making the briefest eye contact with him, and you can tell heâs about to leave. just fix it and disappear.
âwait.â you push off from the car. âlet me get your number. i wanna thank you for real. coffee or dinner or something. i could even pay you.â
âyou donât have to do that.â
âi want to, though.â
âiâm good.â he closes the trunk.
âokay, but iâm not, because you literally just helped me and i canât just let you walk away like it didnât happen. thatâs weird. i have to repay you somehow.â
âitâs a tire.â
âitâs a tire that i would still be staring at and crying over if you hadnât shown up.â you hold your phone out toward him. âjust put your number in. please? iâll buy you food. you look like you eat food.â you smile, big and white and pearly. the kind of smile that always has you get your way.
he looks at your phone, then at you. something flickers across his face, annoyance, maybe, but also something else. like heâs trying to figure out why youâre still talking.
âi donât need you to buy me food.â
âitâs not about need, itâs about like thanking you. do you not let people thank you? thatâs kind of rude, actually.â youâre smiling when you say it, you donât mean it in a bad way itâs just when someone does something nice you thank themâŠitâs the order of things. âcome on. one coffee. you can even ignore me while you drink it. i donât care.â
he stares at you for a second. you keep the phone extended between you, not backing down.
âyouâre not gonna let this go,â he says.
ânope.â
he doesnât take the phone immediately. he just looks at youâŠnot at your car, or the tire, but at you, for a beat too long. his eyes are like the ocean at night, dark and impossible to see the bottom of. then, with a sigh that sounds like he is losing a war, he snatches the phone from your hand, typing something in, then hands it back without looking at you.
âthere.â
you glance at the screen. megumi, and a number. no emoji, no last name, nothing extra. very on brand.
âthank you.â youâre smiling again, genuine. âiâll text you.â
âyou donât have to.â
âiâm going to, though.â
heâs already stepping back, putting distance between you, and he does that thing, the lazy wave without looking, dismissive, like this whole interaction is already fading from his memory.
âget home safe,â he says, and it sounds almost sarcastic, except it also sounds like he might actually mean it.
âi will. thanks to you.â you wave at his back. âbye, megumi!â
he doesnât respond. rounds the corner. gone.
you stand there for a second, looking at the new contact in your phone. the battery warning flashes, 3% now, but you donât care.
your phone buzzes. the group chat, finally: sorry babe we were asleep!! are you okay???
you look at the corner where he disappeared, then back at your screen, then at your car with its new tire.
synopsis: bad boy megumi hates everything to do with readerâs perfect friend group. but then he reluctantly helps her out of a shitty situation and tries to disappear. zero interest in thanks and zero interest witn her. but sheâs stubborn. he tells himself he doesnât care, that he doesnât like herâŠbut he keeps answering her texts anyway.
hey guys. here is the voted for smau series. hope you like it. it starts with a drabble. mostly going to be smau but will also include drabbles here and there as they get closer. enjoy
i genuinely donât know what to do about my tumblr name. like dv4d is a pedo pos. idk how to even change all my links or if i even can. like how do i fix this? iâm thinking of just creating a new tumblr or just leaving tumblr for good.
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