What A Waste... 🌊

Masterlist !

⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ YOUR LOVE IS SO ORDINARY.. ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅

≧ ≦ JJK masterlist ≧ ≦ PLACEHOLDER masterlist

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More coming soon ^^

Woke up to 20 likes. Thank you everyone ^^…

Another part will be posted soon…!!!

I plan for it to be a angst w comfort but i’ll see how that goes (＞人＜;)

Reblog to kill it faster

How he fell for you

dark content blogs dni

notes: so.....this exists now..... I'm not a Dottore stan I'm not a Dottore stan I'm not a Dottore stan why tf is this post so long I'm not a Dottore stan I'm very normal cries in agony

contains: dottore x gn!reader, enemies to lovers, set at the akademiya, jealous!dottore, cute nerd + evil gremlin energy

warnings: dottore is a little bit of an asshole at first

also feel free to join my genshin discord server

D o t t o r e

Honestly, at first you hated each other

Dottore was considered handsome and many of your classmates at the Akademiya had giggled when he was assigned as your study partner, teasing you about whether you two could become a thing

Which you always vehemently denied. The thought made you cringe visibly.

Truth be told, you weren't even an actual scholar at the Akademiya. You took a couple of courses there to qualify you for a job you wanted to do. It was something the prestigious institution offered, but didn't put much effort into. So assisting students like you in your studies and becoming somewhat of a tutor or mentor in your afternoon classes was what detention looked like for the students who were aiming to become exceptional scholars and researchers of the Akademiya.

And Dottore was no stranger to the concept of detention. He often took things too far, although he was never caught for some of the more illegal experiments he did.

So for a while he was assigned to spend his afternoons sitting next to you at your desk, listening to the professor explain topics he considered "too pedestrian for him" and attempted to help you with the practical tasks.

"Help" mostly consisted of belittling you and explaining things in a manner that meant to show off how much of a genius he was. He had little to no concern for the fact that you were a stranger to the subject and his elaborate explanations flew completely over your head. Who was he to care whether you understood what he was talking about or not? You knew the words he was using but strung together like that they didn't sound cohesive.

The most responsive and emotional you've seen him was the shock he expressed over things you didn't know yet. "What do you mean you don't know how to solve this??", he put his head in his hand and and buries his fingers in his hair, leaving it messy when he looked at you again.

A little bit aggressive while explaining. Literally does the task for you and is pretty rough on the equipment while he goes on a rant of "Now you do this.....and then that.....see, it's super easy."

He also puts his stuff everywhere. It's your desk in your lesson but somehow Dottore always arrives right when the lesson is about to start because he's come from a hectic session of lab experiments or outdoor research and he has his whole equipment in his backpack. And obviously this stuff can't stay squeezed into a backpack for hours so it's now supposed to be on your side of the desk.

You once accidentally knock a vial off the desk because he put it next to your arm while you were writing as it was one of the only spots on the table that were not already covered in Dottore's possessions. The professor had to calm a very agitated Dottore down.

Sometimes he just gently bulldozes your arms off the table with his elbows.

He's never intentionally hurting you but he does think being there is a waste of his time, that he's entitled to take up as much space and attention in the lesson as he wants to and that you probably loathe him as much as he loathes you. Being your tutor meant the less progress you made, the longer it would take for Dottore to be released of his duties.

One day in literature class you were introduced to a novel about a mad scientist. Of course Dottore would project on the protagonist. What he didn't expect was for you, when it came to the task of interpreting the novel, to understand exactly how Dottore was feeling. The curiosity that was never satisfied. The urge to transcend his limits as a mere mortal and learn how the world truly functioned from the perspective of the divine. The alienation from everyone around him. The fact that he struggled to perceive the people he interacted with as anything more than hollow shells. The inability to imagine them as conscious and alive as he was. He stared at you and was like oh...

You just sent him a questioning look, not understanding what he was thinking about before you proceeded sharing your theories about the work of fiction with him.

At some point he also started comparing you with the protagonist's love interest which was very suspicious considering the fact that you had absolutely nothing in common with the character in question. Yep, definitely projecting....

Literature class was one of the electives that Dottore had begrudgingly picked because doing some of these to "broaden his horizons" was mandatory although they had nothing to do with his usual research. Dottore, being as ignorant to other people and their feelings as he usually was, had a hard time with interpretation and writing about a character's emotional journey without making it sound like he was picking apart their neurological processes and discussing chemicals in the brain. In hindsight, he probably should have picked a different elective.

He also wasn't the best at actually presenting his research (the parts that the public was able to stomach at least) because he was too caught up in his own head, had the tendency to go on a tangent and just assumed that everyone would know what he was talking about.

Eventually he found that you were actually quite good at both of those things. He had gotten used to your presence so he thought he might as well make good use of it.

Dottore asking anyone for their opinion was quite the novelty.

He sometimes pouts when you criticize him because deep down there was a part of him that wanted to impress you. Why? He didn't know. Your thoughts weren't at all relevant to his time at the Akademiya and yet he found himself listening to them attentively as you helped make his presentation more palatable for..... literally anyone who was not Dottore.

You had volunteered to listen to him practice and he was wondering why you'd spend your time like this. Nevertheless, he gladly took you up on the offer and even invited you to his research presentation so you could once again see how brilliant he was. It was one of those events that were way fancier than they needed to be and so you had dressed up according to the occasion and scanned the lecture hall for Dottore, who was wearing a nice shirt and a vest and fiddling hectically with his notes. That's so typical for him, you smiled to yourself and shook your head a little.

When you locked eyes across the room, Dottore's first thought was "oh shit." Honestly your reaction wasn't that different. The two of you weren't used to stuff like,,,,, finding each other handsome or the mental image of kissing each other. Dottore actually takes this better than you do. He's just like "affection isn't real, it's all just chemicals in our brain, I can probably make something in the lab that will suppress this."

He greeted you nonchalantly and you chuckled. "You messed up your tie and your hair again." Your eyes scanned Dottore's somewhat disheveled appearance. He was always busy before events like these, always doing something and the stress and concentration made him subconsciously pull at his tie or run his hands through his hair way too often. It was a habit you had observed quite a few times when he arrived to tutor you. "Then fix it or whatever", he huffed and hoped no one was staring at him while you fixed his tie and his hair.

Hates how much he enjoys having your fingers in his hair. Literally angry at himself for liking this.

Although you didn't really understand the subject Dottore was talking about on the stage, you enjoyed listening to him and how confident and proud he looked. There was the usual arrogance he carried with him wherever he went but you could also catch a glimpse of genuine enjoyment on his face while he presented the results of his hard work.

He asks you later how you liked it and his heart skips a beat when you compliment him. Though, considering the tension that always was between the two of you, compliments were usually followed by a playful insult or a teasing remark.

Playful banter became your constant once both of you had begrudgingly accepted that the hatred you felt for one another had long since faded. You were often giving the other a challenging grin and Dottore loved this. He loved how witty you could be and how you retorted back confidently when he teased you. Soon enough you two had what one could consider several inside jokes.

Before he had realized it himself, he started seeing you as a person rather than a subject to study the same way he considered the whole world his experimental ground. Hell, he started looking forward to seeing you every day. Dottore had convinced himself that this was solely because he found you intriguing and he wanted to see how you'd react to different things he did or said. He was simply studying your behavior.

While he was usually agitated and annoyed when you didn't understand things or messed up in lessons, Dottore became more gentle in his explanations and tried to actually inspire some interest in the topic in you.

One time the two of you had to do a simple science experiment that Dottore had done countless of times. If different kinds of chemicals were poured onto a crystal found in the caves of Sumeru's forests, the crystal would glow in different colors and light up the room. The professor dimmed the light while Dottore guides your hand a little to make sure you don't spill any of the chemicals or hurt yourself in the process. You were wondering where the change of heart had come from. A month or two ago he would have shrugged had you dropped acid onto your legs. But now he simply hissed "Don't do that, do you want to kill yourself?" and carefully put the vial with the chemical you were holding aside

He quietly chuckled to himself at how fascinated you seemed when staring at the colorful spots the light of the crystal threw on the wall. He wondered when he had started to find moments like these endearing. He hated his growing affection for you. This was never something that was supposed to happen. Dottore was above something like falling in love and if he were to fall for someone, he thought it would be an exceptional genius such as himself. Yet here you were, turning out to be more than enough for him. If he already had to go through the hassle of dealing with his emotions and experiencing "love", he was glad it was you.

He only noticed he was smiling fondly at you when you turned your head towards him and gave him a smile back. Dottore was closer to you now than he had ever been. Your shoulders and arms were touching, you could feel his warmth and smell his fresh cologne. He eventually reached for your hand while staring at the crystal with a concentrated expression and you knew, were you to comment on it, he would push you away. So you gently rubbed his fingers with your thumb and the two of you stared at the colorful lights in silence. Needless to say things were very awkward when the professor turned on the lights again and the moment was over. Dottore was cold once again and excused himself, stating that he still had a research project to attend to and left the room. He just needs some time to process this.

Dottore's growing feelings for you show in subtle ways. How, during events everyone who's taking classes at the Akademiya is invited to, he chooses to sit next to you and talk to you even though his esteemed colleagues are literally right there. How he's always looking out for you, sometimes gently guiding you away with his hand from people who were about to bump into you. The way he started giving you more space and finally shared his thoughts and knowledge with you without complaining all the time. How he'd bring you a coffee or a hot chocolate from a nearby vendor when it was a cold morning. Sometimes you'd bring food to share with him as well but Dottore is an incredibly picky eater so his responses vary from "Oh, thank you" to "Gross, how can you eat something like that?" even though he had never tried the food

Dottore's plan was to just keep you around because he found his time with you amusing and eventually once he's had enough, his feelings would fade away and he could move on with his life. Or cook something up in his lab after all. Unfortunately for him, Dottore was jealous.

He had noticed you had been spending quite some time with another student and you were doing things together many people would consider a date. People had assumed the two of you were a couple, much to Dottore's distaste.

Dottore would often ask you how you had spent your day and huff when you mentioned this person. He'd comment on how he hated people like them and always seemed to imply you had terrible taste. On some days he'd see you and say something like "How's your little romance going?"

"We're not dating but I do wonder why you keep asking that", now it was your turn to give him what was commonly referred to as a "shit-eating grin" and Dottore internally adorned his brain with every curse word in his vocabulary. "I just think you could do better is all. I don't get what you see in them", he tried to play it off like it was his usual arrogance talking but Dottore was a little hurt and he hated how you could make him feel like that. He felt more and more backed into a corner when you, contrary to his expectation about how this conversation would go, kept inquiring about his reasons for acting like this.

"I'm just spending time with a person I like. Why do you keep commenting on that? Why does this bother you so much?", you didn't back off. Dottore clenched his fists and subconsciously avoided eye contact. A hissed "Kiss me and find out" slipped out under his breath before he could stop it.

He was still processing the mess he had gotten himself into when you snaked your arm around his waist and pulled him closer. When your lips met his, his kiss was uncharacteristically gentle at first. Like he was unsure what to do. For now he was just enjoying the sensation and confirmation that you were finally his. He gently caressed your cheek before sighing and kissing you back more passionately, almost desperately, as he had denied himself to feel the way he did for you for too long. He gently nibbled on your lip and held you tightly in his arms.

When the kiss ended, Dottore pulled you into his chest, holding the back of your head with his hand. You buried your face in his shirt and ran your fingertips along his back. Dottore thought about how he could get used to this.

You looked into his eyes with a grin on your face. "Not. a. word", Dottore warned you which made you chuckle.

You simply sank back into his arms and let him hold you for a while.

Dottore takes a long time to warm up to you. He's still sometimes cold and passive and he wasn't ready to put a label on your relationship yet. Affection was mostly initiated by you, although you could tell when he craved it because he'd get a little grumpy and impatient. He enjoyed your touch, even though he didn't dare admit it yet. But with time Dottore opens up more and more to you. He becomes more attentive and affectionate eventually. He just needs time.

College AU with Bad Boy Wriothesley as your boyfriend who picks you up from your classes in his big expensive bike that has all the other students milling about shooting intrigued and intimidated (and impressed) glances at.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who leans against his bike while he waits for you, all intimidating from his full-black outfit, the scars and the spiky hair, but who immediately breaks out into a smile when he sees you coming towards him.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who brings fried chicken and boba and stays with you whenever you have to stay late at the library to study or to do your work. He even gives you his leather jacket so that you don't get cold because of the AC.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who carries all those big books from the library plus your bag, despite your protests. When you insist that he lets you carry some of it, instead he transfers all of the things to just one hand so he can hold your hand while you walk.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who buys you a leather jacket that matches his so that you're protected and warm whenever he takes you out for late-night bike rides.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who brings you out for a late-night ride on the road that runs along the shoreline, so you can admire the way the moon glitters on the waves.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who feels his heart swell by three sizes when he feels you melt against his back, feels your breath against him and how your arms squeeze tighter around his middle like you're giving him a warm hug.

Bad Boy Wriothesley who vows to do this again with you, as many times as you'd like, as long as you keep holding him like this.

thinkin bout getting knocked up by a tentacle monster… just with each tentacle having their own needs. as soon as one is done pumping me full, another takes it’s place, ready to cum deep inside against my cervix 🥺

Imagine being wrapped up in countless tentacles, the soft, warm, and slightly damp appendages winding around your body like steel cords while their tips seek out your holes. You don't realize that they secrete an aphrodisiac to keep the creature's victims eager and willing, and you're already too far gone to care. All you can feel is the pleasure the tentacles bring as they brush over oversensitive skin and plunge inside of you, filling up your mouth, ass, and cunt.

While the creature seems content to playfully use your ass and mouth, the tentacle in your pussy pumps with deep, purposeful thrusts that might have worried you if you still had the capacity to think. All you can do is hang suspended in its alien embrace and moan as the tentacle within you goes rigid, your womb suddenly warmed by a hot rush of its seed.

Just as quickly, it's replaced by another.

And another.

And another.

You come every time a new load forces its way into your fertile belly, your eyes rolling back in your head and your body helplessly shuddering. There's no way that you're walking away from this without its young nestled in your womb.

cw; afab!reader, implied chubby? reader, dirty thoughts, wet dreams, masturbation — not much, just academic!rival scara jerking off to you after a wet dream lmfao

-> master list

KIA'S HOME!!! Did ya' guys miss me 🥺🥺 I haven't posted in forever and it's fr pissing me off.

also also also I'm obsessed with academic rival!scara so theres already a part 2 of this in the works

also I would've posted this sooner if my ex and i didn't come back into contact so whoops there's that.. hope you guys enjoy this, mwaaa! I might go back to daily uploads? Idk though..

If this flops I'm gonna disappear off the face of the earth

"f—fuck! Scara.. mmn.. please.. more.."

The sound of squelching and skin slapping filled the room as Scaramouche pounded into you with absolutely zero restraint, His eyes rolling to the back of his head now that he's finally gotten what he's wanted after all these years..

"Mmn.. yes, yes.. I'll give you more.." He mumbled out, pulling you closer toll his face was right infront of yours; right as your lips were about to crash into one another.. Scaramouche woke up.

-☆-

He unwrapped himself from the blanket, letting out annoyed groans.. as he noticed that his room was still pitch black. Great! Another stupid wet dream woke him up in the middle of the night.

You've been the product of Scaramouche's desires ever since he's transferred, and instead of dealing with his feelings like a normal person, he decided to act like he hated you and beat you academically, just to piss you off! (What a fucking jerk.)

He hissed as his erection rubbed against the comforting warmth of the blanket, he'd always woken up to morning wood - it was nothing new.. But his wet dreams about you have gotten more and more frequent and he's been making a plan about how to make it a reality

But until then? He has to deal with this himself.

Scaramouche threw the blanket off of him and onto the floor before lazily pushing his sweatpants and boxers down to his ankles, not even bothering taking them off completely cause he knew danm well he'd fall back asleep after this..

With a shaky sigh he wrapped his slender fingers around his girth - He was on the bigger side, that was for sure, and Scaramouche wanted nothing more than to hear what you'd have to say about his cock.. would you cry and whine about how it was "too big"?

Pre-cum leaks from his tip at the thought of him getting to see your pretty face as you cried and wept about how he wouldn't fit:(

He shut his eyes, letting his thumb move upwards and spread the sticky liquid all around his tip.. He couldn't let the boy-ish moan that left his lips at the thought of your mouth replacing his fist.

And so it began..

Scaramouche slowly started to pump his hand up and down his erection - words couldn't explain how badly he wished it was your mouth.. how badly he wanted to see your fucked-out expression as he fucked his cock in and out of your mouth, watching as the tears fell down your cheeks when he finally came down your throat.

This was fucking torture. He wasn't quite sure if he wanted to curse the Gods out for putting him in this situation or repent in hopes for forgiveness, so that they'd put him out of this touch-deprived hell.

Different scenarios flashed thru his mind like wrapping around your mark ridden neck.. pressing down on the sides and sending you into a lightheaded haze as he took you from behind.. or playing and sucking on your tits whike he shoved two fingers into your sopping cunt - scissoring open and getting you ready for his cock..

but eventually he settled on one, Eating you out.

Oh, how we longed to lick and suck at your clit till you were sobbing from the pleasure, thrusting his tongue in and out of you until he felt you come, to have your pudgy thighs wrap around his head till you choked him.

God, he loved your thighs. If you were to suffocate him in between them until he died, he'd brag about it in hell.

He started pumping his cock faster at the thought of you having to weakly push his head away as you begged him to stop - how badly be wanted to see your glossy eyes from the tears of pleasure that rolled down your flushed cheeks..

You'd probably taste so good.. so fucking sweet.. Scaramouche was never a fan of sweet foods but he sure as hell was a fan of you.

If he was being honest, he'd probably drool at the sight of your pussy.. Licking his lips before indulging you, maybe he could drag it out.. kissing at your inner thighs, making you beg for it.. beg for him to eat you out..

He wanted to hold onto your hips and stomach, squishing the fat there as he sloppily ate you out - ignoring your pleas of mercy until he figured he'd gotten enough of your taste, (which would only be after many many hours) watching as you sobbed even harder when he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance.. rubbing it along your folds before finally pushing it in..

You were always so pretty, he knew that you'd look even prettier if he made you cry..

He was unwillingly brought back down to reality when he felt his cock twitch in his hands, Scaramouche started thrusting his hips upwards to meet the pace of his fist.. he was so close but he couldn't come just yet.. one more scenario about you.. that's all he needed.

Then the thought of coming inside of you came into his mind, the thought of filling you to the brim with his cum made his cock twitch again and his pace get sloppy.. fuck, fuck, fuck!

He shot ropes of his release onto his.. everything? He couldn't really see with the fact that his room was still dark.. An annoyed sigh left his lips..

You really made Scaramouche's mind run wild, and one day you were going to pay for it.

MAKING THEM WHIMPER

note: making your genshin bf whimper in pleasure.

content warnings: nsfw (17+), fem!reader, riding, begging, praise kink, slight dom + slight sub

AL HAITHAM

His mouth right besides your ear, and his hand with a firm grip on your waist as he kept you bent over, his cock pounding deep and hitting every sweet spot of yours. He was trying so hard to keep his moans from getting too loud so he could hear you and your soaking cunt squeezing him in, but god you felt so perfect tonight. Especially ever since you got a tattoo of his initial on your breasts. “F-Fuck, name.. fuck!” you hear him whisper and god you could tell he was close to finishing. But a surprise to you, was hearing him whimper, and praising how good you felt. His whimpers louder than your moans itself, before he finished deep inside, squirting and painting your walls with his come.

DILUC

He was a mess every time he indulged himself into some intimacy with you. But something about when he would eat your soaking pussy, that made him moan and whimper as if he was craving it all his life. He’ll always tease the clit while always remaining a steady pace with his tongue as he filled your cunt with joy and pleasure. But god when you pressed your cunt against his face he would always let out a whimper and moan, something that would add the cherry on top and have you come almost instantly.

NEUVILLETTE

Missionary was his favorite position because it gave him a chance and reason to keep his head into your neck, in an attempt cover his whimpers. Which never really worked, but it at least allowed you to tug onto his hair as he would continue to thrust deep and gently inside of you. Whimpering and moaning with every thrust on how good you felt, and god would you earn such a passionate moan as you tugged his hair once more whilst he finished inside.

WRIOTHESLEY

Having his hands and wrists cuffed as you rode him on your living room couch. Being the only one with control as you could see it in his eyes, him begging to touch your breasts. “Please, [name], just once” he begged but you shook your head. “Patience, wrio..” you whispered, slamming yourself down on his cock. There is a loud moan that escapes the bottom of his throat before you passionately kiss him to tease. And oh archon did he break that kiss several times to let out several whimpers.

AAAH my poor baby junpei.....

“you can talk to me. i promise i won't judge you, no matter what.”

First fic i've ever written has been posted ! Give it some love ^^!

An angel disguised in pink!

Aged up! No curse AU!Megumi Fushiguro x Jirai Kei! Reader

Summary : Megumi just turned 21, and has already received an invite from Gojo Satoru - to go drinking. It's Gojo, after all. He's seeing faces he vaguely remember from college, but fresh faces were uncommon, even in a Gojo party. You, dressed like an angel in pink, piqued his interest.

WARNINGS : people getting DRUNK, you can tell i've never been to a party and drank, mentions of addiction to host clubs, a smudge of angst maybe if you squint really hard, mostly fluff though

Word count : 1.4K (it's so short!!)

AUTHORS NOTE!!: Hello everyone... I started writing this like yesterday and wasn't aware today was his actual birthday..... ALSO this is my first time writing and i'm not 100% in my english..!! I'm not familiar with posting on tumblr as a whole, so with the layout and all that, i'm not quite familiar. Please give me some leeway with that kind of stuff. also, my laptop kind of broke while i was trying to post this, so im typing this from my touchscreen ipad. It's a little annoying, but oh well..

This was also LIGHTLY inspired by @lokissweater 's mlb megumi... i know its not anything close to their levels of writing, but i was kinda inspired to write megumi for my Landmine reader from her and how she writes Megumi.

I talked too much, i'll just let you read it already ^^"...

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

The club Megumi found himself in wasn’t particularly big, but it buzzed with energy. The space was packed with familiar faces—classmates, acquaintances, and a handful of people he’d crossed paths with at one point or another. As soon as he’d turned 21, Gojo had dragged him along to this club, boasting about it being owned by one of Geto’s many “connections.” What Gojo failed to mention was that it was a private party. Not that it mattered much; Megumi realized he wasn’t exactly out of his element.

Most of the crowd blurred together as people he vaguely recognized, but there were a few exceptions. Two were Shoko’s friends, chatting animatedly by the bar. The third was a girl—you—whom Megumi didn’t recognize at all. The strobe lights bathed the room in eye-numbing neon green, but even through the haze, the soft pink of your blouse stood out.

You caught his gaze from across the room, and when your eyes met, you offered a small, awkward smile accompanied by a polite nod. Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, his cheeks warming with the faintest blush—thankfully hidden by the poor lighting. Still, he managed a curt nod in return, stiff and reserved as ever.

Nobara, watching the interaction from her spot by the bar, smirked to herself. She’d invited you along partly because she knew you enjoyed the club scene, but mostly because an idea had begun forming in her head. You… and Megumi… Yeah, that had potential.

While most of the party (including a very drunk Gojo and Shoko) had taken over the dance floor, Megumi stayed firmly planted at the edge of the chaos, arms crossed. He sighed, his gaze flicking between the reckless dancing and his untouched canned beer.

Adults.

Gojo, currently in a drunken dance battle with Itadori, was reason enough for Megumi to swear off drinking tonight. Witnessing the sheer level of intoxication his mentor had achieved was enough to keep him sober.

Lost in thought, Megumi didn’t notice you approach until he felt the chill of a bottled green tea press against his arm. He startled slightly, turning to find you standing beside him, a tentative smile on your face.

“Figured you might want this. You didn’t touch your beer all night,” you said, holding out the tea.

For a moment, he just blinked at you, caught off guard. Then, taking the bottle, he muttered a quiet, “Thanks. Uh…”

“Oh, right. Um, I’m Y/N.” You dug into your pink MCM bag before pulling out a similar bottle of green tea for yourself.

“So… you’re not a fan of alcohol?” you asked, idly adjusting the lace on your skirt.

Megumi shrugged, taking a sip of the tea. “Not when Gojo’s around. Someone’s gotta stay sober enough to drag him home.”

“Fair enough. He does seem… like a lot.” You cast a concerned glance at the “honored one” himself, doing the Worm on the floor.

“That’s putting it mildly,” Megumi said, the corners of his lips lifting subconsciously. For the first time, he felt like he was actually enjoying himself that night.

A comfortable pause settled as you both observed the other guests.

“You’re… friends with Nobara, right?” Megumi turned his attention to Nobara, who was on the dance floor with a cocktail in hand, her face flushed red from the alcohol she’d ingested, and a feather boa draped across her shoulders like something out of a ’90s movie.

“Yeah. She dragged me along tonight. Said it’d be fun. And I just figured I’d come over and say hi since you looked kind of… out of place.” You laughed softly, his plain shirt and baggy jeans a stark contrast to the vibrant, flashy outfits in the room.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked with a small sigh, running a hand through his hair he hadn’t cared to style.

“A little. You’re the only one here who looks like they’d rather be anywhere else.”

“I’m just not big on crowds. Or neon lights. Or drunk people.”

Another moment of silence passed as you nodded in understanding, observing the dance floor growing even more chaotic.

“You seem like you’re enjoying this,” Megumi said, cocking his head toward the unfolding disasters (Geto spilling his drink onto a very pissed-off Nanami).

“I, uh, I’m used to the nightlife. I used to frequent a lot of bars and nightclubs.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Used to? You don’t anymore?”

You hesitated for a moment, swirling the green tea bottle in your hands. “Not as much, no. I… got addicted at one point, I guess. I was filling a void in myself. But I realized it wasn’t healthy.”

Megumi’s expression softened, his usual guarded demeanor giving way to curiosity. “Addicted?”

You hesitated before nodding. “Yeah. Not just clubs—host clubs, mostly. I’d go out all the time, spending way too much money just to be around people who’d tell me what I wanted to hear. For a while, I thought it was fun, but… I guess I was filling a void. They hook you in, you know? They leave you alone, and when you start getting desperate, you spend more.”

He frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Host clubs?”

You glanced at him, gauging his reaction, and let out a small laugh. “Yeah, I know. It’s not the most… admirable thing. But when you’re feeling empty, it’s easy to get addicted to the attention. They make you feel special, even if it’s just an act.”

Megumi took a moment to process your words, his gaze steady but without judgment. “What made you stop?”

You smiled faintly, your expression a mix of self-awareness and vulnerability. “I realized it wasn’t real. I was paying for affection, not earning it. And honestly? It wasn’t making me happy—it was just a distraction. So I quit and started focusing on myself. It’s not easy, but… I’m trying.”

He nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “That… takes a lot of self-awareness. Most people wouldn’t even admit they were doing it to fill a void.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks. I’m not sure if it’s self-awareness or just running out of money.”

That earned a soft chuckle from Megumi, and for the first time that night, the tension between you eased.

“What about you?” you asked, shifting the focus. “You don’t seem like the type to… well, pay for attention.”

He leaned against the wall, thinking. “Not really my thing. I guess I’ve always been more focused on the people I already care about.”

You nodded, impressed by his grounded perspective. “Must be nice. Knowing you’re enough without needing to hear it from someone else.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “I think everyone needs to hear it sometimes. Just… not in that way.”

A quiet moment passed between you, the chaotic energy of the club fading into the background.

Finally, you broke the silence with a teasing smile. “So, if clubs aren’t your thing, what is? What would you do for fun?”

“Honestly?” Megumi said, his lips quirking in a rare smile. “Probably stay home with a book or go to a quiet park. Somewhere peaceful.”

You grinned, leaning closer. “A book and a park? You’re a walking cliché.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t seem annoyed. “And you’re not, Miss ‘Host Clubs for the Guys’?”

“Touché,” you said, laughing softly. “But hey, if you ever get curious, I can recommend a few places.”

“Pass,” he said, shaking his head, but the amusement in his voice made it clear he wasn’t dismissing you.

“Your loss,” you teased, taking another sip of your tea. “But seriously, thanks for not judging me. Most people wouldn’t be so… understanding.”

He looked at you, his expression earnest. “Everyone’s got their reasons.”

Your chest tightened slightly at his words, and you found yourself smiling in a way you hadn’t in a long time. “You’re a lot deeper than I expected, Megumi.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but there was warmth in his tone.

And just like that, the club felt a little less overwhelming, and the two of you felt a little more connected. Fein by Travis Scott played in the background of the packed bar at 1:23 a.m. Gojo and Geto slumped over each other groggily as the alcohol took its toll. Itadori darted around, still inexplicably full of energy, while Nobara stood barefoot, heels in hand, complaining to Maki. 

Somehow, amidst the chaos, this moment felt peaceful.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

(I hope everyone liked this... I probably will write a continuation or maybe make it a series when i have the time to.)