#they just stare at you without a single thought in their tiny heads

[thechibilitwick]

the shidoulings are mentally sick in the head and

[atoltia]

Their Little Nest

In which MC reorganizes their house over time and Sylus, because of an offhand comment from the twins, thinks she's nesting.

Sylus x fem!MC fluff

Pregnancy thoughts and talk.

-0-

It started with the little things.

Tiny potted plants sat prettily on his shelves, the many side and coffee tables in the manor, their little pops of green and brightly colored petals brightening what once was a corner of shadow.

It wasn't like Sylus didn't keep plants in the house, no. It was just he didn't pay them any mind besides making sure the staff was taking care of them.

So it really came as a surprise when he suddenly found himself watching you and the twins hauling boxes into the house, chattering about plant growth and such as you took out several lamps.

"Kitten," he said from his position by the doorway, strong arms folded over his chest as he leaned against the frame. "With that much light, you're going to start to photosynthesize."

You turned, smiled at him as you tilted your head up to nuzzle into his chin when he strode towards you. You held up two different types of lamps for him to see. "They're lamps."

"I can see that."

You chuckled, leaned against him when he reached over to fiddle with the lamp in your hand. "I didn't know if I needed sun lamps or grow lamps for the plants so I got a lot of both."

"Mm." Sound logic enough, he thought. He patted her head. "Let's set them up, then."

And so they did.

(Even though both of you did bicker about adding a grow lamp - not the sun lamp - in his office for that tiny desk succulents you graciously added to his massive workspace.)

(He conceded, of course.)

But it didn't stop there. Not that he expected it to stop, knowing you.

It was a rough day. A negotiation that Sylus needed to get done didn't pull through as the moron representing the offending faction decided to get flustered and pulled out a gun at him, voiding the deal and thus resulting in a gun fight.

The situation was dealt with easily enough, but the cleanup needed his attention particularly because they had several protocores that he was aiming to acquire and wasn't going to leave without them. Alas, as they refused to make it easier for everyone involved, they had to waste not just his time but his ammo as well as his perfectly cut suit.

Sylus landed on the couch with a groan, relief finally flooding his bones as the tension in his body started to dissipate. He wasn't bleeding any longer, but the aches remained, a dull thrum consistently buzzing so much that it prevented him to experience the relief of sleep.

While the fog enveloped the N109 Zone to obscure it from the wrath of the sun, the instinctual yearn for daylight annoyed him. The mere ghostly memory of the sun on his skin made him purse his lips, the mere thought of it sapping his already drifting energy.

He turned his head, buried it into the pillow-

He blinked, propped himself on his good arm as he stared at the pillows. Gone were the hard blocks of stone that posed for a pillow that he just never bothered to replace, seeing as he was in pain often enough that the uncomfortableness of them barely registered to him anymore. What sat under and beside his head were soft, the slight fur on the covers lightly tickling his cheek as it cradled his head, rapidly easing his throbbing headache.

Long fingers flexed, his brows furrowing when softness once again surrounded his senses.

There was a thick blanket beneath him, separating his battered body from the worn and cold leather of the couch.

Now, Sylus is a perceptive man. Being observant of his surroundings and having the ability to react accordingly is part of his job description, his lifestyle. One misstep, a single moment of carelessness, and he could end up dead.

He was sure these pillows and blanket were not here before he left the house no less than eleven hours earlier.

"Sylus."

He turned, alert eyes softening at the sight of you, drinking up the image of you in one of his long-sleeved button-ups that hung over your significantly smaller frame, your hair mussed in multiple directions.

A lazy, crooked smile adorned your face as you hummed his name, your eyes still drooped with sleep. The adorable crow plushie was cradled lovingly in your arms.

You took your time to cross the room, loved the way he settled back onto the couch as he watched you, those wonderful scarlet eyes not once leaving you. You accepted his outstretched hand, your laugh softly lilting in the air when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Hi," you purred, your body molding perfectly into his.

"Good morning." There was a tenderness in the room, blanketing the both of you as you cuddled on the couch. You cherished moments like this. It's not so often that Sylus would get home when you wake, and while you know that your beloved wasn't all too fond of the mornings, you also know that the man made sure to make time for little moments like this despite his busy schedule.

"You changed the pillows," he muttered, his deep voice rumbling as he nuzzled into your hair.

"Did I?" You kissed his exposed clavicle, trying to hide your smile.

"You did."

"Maybe the twins did it."

He snorted, his fingers digging into your hips before massaging it as his other hand fiddled with the leather that held your knife strapped to your thigh. "They would've have bought a vibrating couch before they get to the pillows."

You laughed. "That's true."

A beat of silence. Just two lovers laying on a couch, sharing whispers and secret laughter as the sun rose far beyond the N109 Zone.

It was peace.

Oh, if only that peace lasted.

It's been a few weeks since that little moment on the couch, and Sylus couldn't fathom how they went from there to where you were at this moment.

He sat on a stool on the kitchen, watching you clean what seemed like the eighth room in the manor and you didn't have any indication of stopping soon.

None of them knew why you were in such a frenzy to clean, but you knew it was important do it Right Now. He offered to help you, of course, after having a quick round with him arguing that you should just leave all the cleaning to the staff, seeing as that's one of the primary reasons why he hired them in the first place.

"Sweetie," he said, exasperation leaking into his usual smooth voice. "If you keep at it any longer, I'm gonna have to clean you up from the floor."

You scoffed, hissed when he tried to grab the mop from you. "You better sit your ass down before I dismantle all of your guns again."

"Oh?" His voice, sickly sweet, as he trailed the tip of his fingers up your neck, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "Will you, now?"

Your eyes glinted, lips curling into a menacing smile as you passed the mop to your other hand, completely dodging his attempt to take it from you as you pressed your body sensually to his. Deft fingers from your now free hand lightly tapping playfully against his chest. You crooned. "You know I will."

A stare down. Something not too uncommon between the two of you. A pair of strong, stubborn people unwilling to yield.

Most of the time.

"Alright," he conceded. Sylus knew, even without peering into your desires, that you will not budge on this matter. So he sat, admitting full well that this isn't an issue that's worth having an argument over.

It only took one look from him to shut the twins' guffaw from the other side of the door. He could ignore the snickering, however.

"This is like the third time she cleaned this room," Kieran whispered to his brother.

"Fourth," supplied Luke as he enjoyed the way their boss was sulking at the counter. He didn't look like he was sulking, Luke knew that full well, but he just had that feeling. "You were too busy buying detergent when she cleaned this last Monday."

"Ah."

"Hm."

"Maybe she's nesting or whatever."

Luke hummed, shrugged. "Maybe."

Sylus was a man of composure. Not even the most lethal of situations are able to get a rise out of him, and even if it did, no one would be able to tell from his perfected poker face.

That was the only reason why he didn't fall out of his stool.

Could you be pregnant? But you two have been so careful, so sure that the both of you have done the necessary things to have safe sex. But it wasn't impossible, he knew. It was also possible for non-pregnant women to exhibit nesting behavior. Surely, you'd tell him immediately if something was amiss or... if you were experiencing some symptoms.

Children, huh? He didn't think he'd be a great father. If anything, he'd be a horrible one considering the simple fact that he brought danger with him anywhere he went.

He was hard lines and violence, bloodshed and death. The sins that he's committed - and will commit - was unfit for a father. A good father.

But... he supposed it would be nice to have children running across the house. His and your kids. A physical manifestation of your love.

It's not that he needed to have a mini version of himself. As far as he knew, he never had any inclination of even desiring to have them. That avenue of conversation hasn't opened up between you too, either. He didn't know if you even wanted to have children.

Children with him.

And he wouldn't mind it if you didn't want them. They were a commitment, not just some playthings to be discarded once the novelty wore off. It would take a lifetime.

Yet... It's a nice thought.

"Darling?" It was well into the night. You and Sylus were already snuggled up in bed but you knew something was off. Ever since your little event in the kitchen, Sylus has been drifting, sometimes zoning out into space. It was very uncharacteristic of him.

So you waited. He'd tell you eventually.

Yet you have to admit to yourself that you can be impatient.

Those eyes of his, momentarily dazed, focused on you. The room was dark, the steady thrum of the air conditioner droning in the background. And still you felt his eyes on you, focusing, focusing, his arms pulling you in closer to his body.

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Of course you'd see it. Not that Sylus even attempted to hide it, seeing as you'd peer through him eventually. You waited for him to speak, frowned when you felt the spiking of his evol. "Sy?"

"Are you pregnant?"

You sputtered, pushed up from your position on the bed. Your hand quickly tapping the button for the lights.

Warmth illuminated the room as you stared into his eyes. You thought he was joking, thought he was pulling your leg, but the emotion that stormed his eyes moved you, surprised you.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Sy." There was distress in his voice, something that you thought you'd never hear. "My period finished a few days ago."

He closed his eyes as he let that information sink in, nodded. Released a breath. "Okay."

"Sylus." You nudged him, urged him to open his eyes. "Sweetheart, what brought this on?"

Sylus sighed, feeling as though the energy was tapped from him. Well, there was no reason to beat around the bush on this. "Kieran mentioned you might be nesting."

For all the time you've spent with Sylus, you knew that man rarely blushed. But the pink that dusted his cheeks and ears endeared you, the heartbeat that you loved listening to spiking.

"I'm sure, Sy."

"Right."

He didn't know if it was relief he felt as he held you, fingers kneading into the dip between your hips. He sighed. Gave you the smile that was only reserved for you.

"Why did you change the pillows?"

You tilted your head, smiled back, leaned down to kiss his nose. So it came back to the pillows.

"I wanted you to be comfortable whenever you collapse on the couch."

"The plants?"

"This place is stuffy without them."

"And the cleaning?"

"I don't like the way the staff cleaned our house."

He stared at you, those gorgeous garnet eyes of his looking at you with a mix of adoration and complete and utter confusion. He blew a breath.

"I was overthinking, then."

"You think so much all the time, I'm surprised it's taken you this long to short circuit."

"I didn't short circuit."

"You don't have access to seeing your expressions, darling."

You laughed when he pinched your sides before your hands slip up and cupped his face. "I love you, you know that?"

"I know." His voice dropped down an octave as he trailed open mouthed kisses from your shoulder to your neck. "I guess that's why you're making me insane."

You snorted. "You never needed my help with that, dumbass."

He nipped your neck, nuzzled. "I love you, too."

"Mm." But you took his hand, pressed it to your stomach, stared deep into his eyes. "Do you want to have children with me, Sy?"

Your eyes were impossibly deep that he couldn't look away. Couldn't even think of attempting it.

"Yes."

Straightforward as ever, Sylus is. You blew a breath.

Swung your legs over him and straddled him in one swift move.

"Maybe we can start trying now, then?"

-0-

this has been running in my brain for days and i just had to write it asfsdg

check out my other sylus fluff fic!

and another sylus fic but with a cat :>

[sparklingblu]

Eroverse

Pt.1 - The Invitation

IVE Rei x Male Reader (ft. Karina)

"Harder, daddy. Harder!"

The sweet moans of the idol beneath you are music to your ears as you piston into her wet folds rapidly, a hand of yours gripping her throat and another kneading her large plentiful tits as she barely manages to stay on all fours on the bed. Her arched back is dripping with sweat and her breath is ragged. Nevertheless, she takes your pounding without complaint, like a good whore she is.

"You like it, huh? You cock hungry whore"

You ask over her mewls resonating around the room as you grip her throat even tighter, depriving her of oxygen.

"Yes...daddy...pound me"

Karina's voice comes out distorted and inaudible but it's impressive how she still manages to make a sound despite your hold on her vocal cords.

"Good girl"

You praise her and bring your palm over one of her asscheeks, which are jiggling with every one of your thrusts. The slap comes down harder than you expect, leaving a red handprint on that porcelain skin of hers. You repeat the motion again, this time on her other cheek, making it jiggle even more, marking it with your handprints as well. Maybe Karina squeals but it blends into her moans and the sound of her breath which is becoming even more shallow with how long you have been choking her.

You would have never thought you would have the chance to see Karina in real life , left alone fuck her. You have always drooled over the bounce of her huge tits and her curves as you jerk off to her fancams again and again. You would even get hard just from seeing that AI like face of her. However, these days are over as you claim her body as your own with your cock.

Karina's eyes begin to roll into the back of her head as she is cut off from the supply of her life force, oxygen, for too long. That doesn't make you decrease your pace or lessen the hold on her throat either. The only supply she needs to live right now is your cum.

As Karina's body becomes limp like a lifeless doll, you start to feel your high slowly approaching. That sensation in your stomach that travels down to your pelvis and ultimately to your shaft.

"Gonna cum, Karina, don't waste a drop"

You order as your flood gates finally open and Karina open her mouth to let out her final moan, but the sound that comes out is-

"Ring ring ring"

Your eyes flutter open as the alarm clock wakes you from your blissful dream.

"You are an idiot, Michael"

You mutter to yourself as you turn off the alarm. You? Fucking Karina? Yeah, sure, that can happen when pigs fly. You sit up in your bed, only to find yourself rock hard from that wet dream you have been having. That's a matter you should take care of later.

You slowly get off your bed and rub your eyes, the view of your messy room greeting you as usual. The tiny room is stuffed with every single one of your possessions. A shelf against the wall, taking up most of the room and a small wardrobe in the corner which is next to a table and a chair, piled with stationaries and stack of papers.

It's a dump, sure. But it can be considered a luxury for a writer like you. At least you have your own space. You have always dreamed of writing stories and hell, you even have a ten book series planned out in your mind. But in reality, you are barely scrapping by. Going from one publishing house to another to get that novel of yours released that have been sitting on the same table for years. You managed to survive with the money you get from your part time job and sometimes when luck is on your side, some of your articles and poems got featured in some magazines no one read.

"Stop whining" you remind yourself. "You just haven't found your true potential yet" An empty encouragement, yet it gets your mind off the bad stuff. You make your way to the bathroom, brushing your teeth, staring at the wreckage in the mirror which is your reflection. Your eyes were ringed with dark circles and your head throbs with pain from all the shots you chugged down at the bar yesterday after running into some old friends.

You head to the shower and you are about to turn the water on when you see a bigger problem at hand than smelling like a rat dies in your hair. The boner was still there, stiff and hard as ever. That dream really takes a toll on you.

You grab the phone on the sink and scroll through the collection of hundred videos of female idols you have saved on your phone, choosing the best one to jerk off to. There's so much variety to choose from, ass? tits? face? You once heard someone say "Jerking off is not hard, finding the material to jerk off to is" It seems like the case now.

Finally, you land on the video of Rei from IVE. The busty japanese idol in a white top and a skirt. Her tits bouncing with every move she makes. Not the ideal choice but you will settle for it.

You are about to get your hands on your mamba that's ready to pounce when a notification comes up on your screen.

"Still jerking off to Idols? Why not fuck them instead?"

You are confused. What kind of notification is that? It is like someone is watching you right here, right now. Maybe someone is pulling a prank on you? That's impossible because no one knows about your guilty pleasure.

Reluctantly, you scroll down to see the source of the message. On the left side of the notification is the icon of an app, a dark heart shape and its name on top "Ero". You are pretty sure you have never installed such an app on your phone but curiosity gets the best of you. You click on the notification.

Immediately, your screen light up with a warm neon glow as the loading screen popped up, with the same dark heart shape and the name "Ero" in the centre of the screen. After a minute of waiting, you are about to give up and quit the app when the screen shifts. Now, it displays a text box at the bottom of the screen like in video games and the same black heart rotate slowly like a top above it.

The text in the textbox says,

"Welcome, chosen one. Continue to your first quest?"

Chosen one? What in the Harry Potter is happening here? And what quest? Is this some sort of game? And what does it have to do with you jerking yourself off to idols? Million questions swell in your head but of course your curiosity pushes you to click the 'yes' button under the text.

For a moment, the screen is black. Then it lights up with such a bright white light that you nearly got blinded. The light dims, leaving another text box in the middle of the screen.

"First Quest: Rei's Blowjob

Have Rei sucks you off and endure it for 30 minutes"

Your mind is one complete mess, trying to figure out what the hell is going on. This sound like some sort of porn games you play on your laptop. Main character being chosen and all. But this is very much real though you still doubt this is some kind of scam app that steals the information from your phone. Not like you have any data worth stealing though. Another reason to doubt it even more.

As your brain gets blowtorched with questions, your phone suddenly shuts off. Before your fingers can reach the screen to turn it back on, the whole bathroom goes dark. When you say dark, you are not talking "turn off the light at night" dark. Only darkness exists within your vision as if the whole room have been swallowed by the night. You are about to move forward and try to reach out desperately for something to hold onto when your whole body gets washed over by a sensation like getting dipped in icy water. Your body starts to give out, your knees turning to jelly.

"Am I gonna die?"

You think.

"Oh god, I'm gonna die"

The darkness is the last thing you see before you are greeted by it once again as your eyelids close shut.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

The first thing on your mind when you regain consciousness is

"What the hell happened?"

You slowly open your eyes to see a chandelier on the ceiling above. Its yellow lights sting your eyes after seeing only the dark for so long. You slowly sit up, the fatigue in your body is gone, replaced by the lust earlier before you get dragged into this mess by an app. You are still clothless, your mamba springing up like a missel ready to launch.

You stand up, taking in your surrounding. You are in a vast room made entirely of mahogany. In the center of the room is a canopy bed with draping black curtains, opened to reveal the red bedsheets behind. On the console table in one corner rests a black vase holding a single red rose. Apart from it, the whole room is deprived of furniture, giving it a hollow incomplete feeling. The chandelier is the only light source but it is obviously not enough to illuminate the whole room as dark spots are scattered all around the room. If this is not creepy enough, the room has no doors.

Your first instinct is to try to escape but breaking out of a doorless room is easier said than done. Maybe you are dead and in heaven? Sure, if heaven is one dark ghastly room. But you doubt you will get in to heaven. You go back to the source of this problem. That stupid "Ero" app. And what did it say again? A quest, get a blowjob from Rei. But where is Rei?

"Here"

A voice utters from one corner of the room as if answering your thoughts. Your eyes adjust to the dark as a girl emerges from the gloomy spot, emerging from the shadows. It can't be, you think. But no doubt, standing before you is Rei, the japanese member of IVE, dressed in a black low cut sweater dress as if there isn't enough darkness in here and a loose belt wrapped around her waist like she has put it on in a rush. Her dreamy eyes beneath her hazel hair trace your body, studying you and you definitely don't want to be studied while you are butt naked. She folds her arms judgmentally, accentuating the shape of her huge tits under the fabric.

"Master, what takes you so long?"

She asks and you are speechless. Master? This have to be another wet dream. You should have response with some sort of snarky remark but all you can say is

"What?"

You want to bash your head with that vase on the table. A girl is calling you master and that's your first words to her. Stupid as ever.

"Master, I have been waiting for you. What takes you so long?"

This time your response is a bit better.

"Eh, I was busy..."

"I can't wait for that huge cock of yours, I need it so bad"

She whines, gazing at your exposed cock which is hard as ever. This gets you into your mood.

"Then why don't you come and taste it?"

You order, remembering your quest, blowjob. Maybe you can choose other alternatives too but this is a start.

"As you wish master"

Rei kneels, looking up at your cock as if it's something glamorous. The fingers of her left hand close around the base of your shaft, slowly stroking it and fuck, with how smooth her palm feels, you are not sure if you can hold out for 30 minutes for that stupid quest. Her movements are fluid, not too fast or too slow, taking her time just travelling her fingers along your shaft.

"Am I doing well master?"

She asks, looking up at you with her doll eyes.

"Yes, Rei but you have to be better than this"

Rei doesn't answer. Instead, she wraps the rest of her fingers above the space over the first ones and start stroking your cock faster. The friction sending jolts after jolts of pleasure through you body. Her fingers work like magic, with just the right grip and the right motion. Meanwhile, Rei's eyes never leave your cock, focused on it entirely.

"Like this, master?"

"Yes, Rei. Fuck, don't stop"

You groans as pleasure overwhelms you if every stroke of her fingers, bringing you closer and closer to your edge until you remember the time limit. You don't know what will happen if you fail, but you don't want to find out.

You grab Rei's wrist and stop her.

"Master needs you to use that pretty little mouth"

"Mhmm.....yes, master. I want to feel that hard cock stuffed in my throat"

Rei's filthy words leave her mouth no sooner than she impales it on your cock, stuffing your whole length down her throat. Usually, you expect some foreplay. A kiss there, a lick here. But Rei either doesn't know about or care about it as she engulfs your cock in one swift motion. A groan escapes your lips, the sudden warmth and the tightness indulging you with ecstasy. She holds you in her throat, her nose presses against your pelvis.

You have had blowjobs before but Rei's is on a whole different level. Her throat constricts around you, her neck bulging with the foreign object entering it. You are starting to think she's gonna hold you forever when she pulls back, a loud gag escaping her mouth as globes of saliva drop to the ground, the remnants connecting your tip and her lips in silky strings.

You expect her to take a breather but nevertheless she immediately went down on your cock again, taking it back into her warm cavern as she devours it like a hungry beast. Her plump lips sealed around your shaft as she bobs up and down with unyielding speed. Every single movement of hers seem calculated, designed to pleasure you in every way possible. The way her tongue traces the underside of your shaft, the way she moans around your cock, the intentional gagging sounds she makes ever so often. It's like a well organized orchestra with the instruments being her lips, tongue and her throat.

Saliva escapes from the corner of her lips with every bob, dripping down to her thighs and her cleavage, staining her black dress even blacker. You hold a tight grip on her hair, tying it in a lock in your grasp. Finally, she pulls back, leaving only the tip inside her mouth as her fingers envelope you shaft once again, stroking it so fast you think it's gonna start sparking. It might have as well as your body start heating up from her masterclass of a handjob, sweat beads hanging on your temples. You throw your head back, rejoicing in the bliss of Rei's tongue swirling around your head in harmony with her fingers that twist and turn all the way to her lips and back.

You have lost the sense of time, drowned by the euphoric feeling that doesn't seem to be stopping anytime. Has it been thirty minutes? You have no idea. But you are glad you hold out for this long. Time limit or not, you don't want this to end anytime soon.

However, everything have a limit and so do you. As Rei's hand leaves your shaft, only to be swallowed up and deepthroated once again, you start feeling that familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach, unravelling bits by bits. Your cock starts throbbing in the warmth of Rei's throat constricting and relaxing around the tip, as if giving it a massage.

Rei, who's either oblivious to it or doesn't care, suddenly release your pulsing pole from her mouth. She looks up at you and gives you a sly smile, like she knows how desperate you are for release.

"Is Master gonna cum?"

She asks with a smirk and god, you just wants to grab her hair and impale her on your cock again but you don't want to end things sloppily (ironic with how sloppy it already is) but you just nod.

"Cum down my throat master, fill up your slutty whore."

She says opening her mouth, waiting for your move and you instinctively grabs her hair in a makeshift messy ponytail and starts thrusting into her mouth like it's her pussy.

Everytime your cock hits the back of her throat, you get closer and closer to the finale of this rapturous session. Rei holds her gaze to yours, pleading with her eyes to you how badly she needs your cum, how badly she needs to be filled up from the brim.

"Rei....I'm cumming"

You announce as you conclude the act by burying your cock to the hilt into her welcoming throat, unloading spurts after spurts of cum all the way down into her stomach. It seems to go on forever, the flow of cum never ending until it eventually does.

You pulls out your now spent rod from her tight cavern. Rei's mouth was still open, saliva flowing like a waterfall and forming a puddle between the red mahogany floor between her knees, which are trembling nonstop.

"Thanks master"

She mutters, her voice hoarse from being deprived of oxygen.

"Good girl"

You mutter, grinning like a madman. You are pretty sure this definitely isn't a dream. And you just use an idol like a fleshlight. And your quest. Yeah, your quest. The reason you are here. Have you completed it?

As you are reflecting yourself, you are engulfed by darkness once again.

"Shit, not again"

You cursed under your breath. Anymore exposure to darkness today and you won't be able to see colors anymore.

"Worry not, chosen one"

A voice boomed all around you as if the darkness have built in speakers.

"You performed well, I expect more from you in the future"

You are about to protest when the same cold feeling earlier wash over you again and your mind goes blank.

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

(My first smut and the start of a series, I hope you enjoy it)

[penkura]

OP Men Holding Their Firstborn for the First Time

Note: This is in relation to my post of headcanons for these five men and their children. I just started thinking of which ones of them will cry, who will freak out over holding a tiny baby, who may reject the thought at first. And it came to this lol. I think the next one in this series will be names for the kids or babies taking their first steps! The baby fever is strong help. For now, please enjoy these men being soft about their offspring!

Ace almost has a heart attack when you try to pass your daughter to him, he swears he felt his heart jump into his throat when you ask if he wants to hold her, saying no that he's fine for now, but you insist he should. He doesn't do so for several hours, instead watching you with her as he works up the courage to have her in his arms.

What if my powers activate and I burn her? What if she cries and kicks? Oh lord, what I drop her??

"Ace, please. You need to hold her."

The look on your face, like you're begging him to hold her, finally makes Ace agree, sitting on the edge of your hospital bed to take your hours old daughter from you. You remind him to be careful of her head, make sure to support her, and smile when you finally get to see the two loves of your life together at last.

She doesn't fuss or cry or kick, instead staying fast asleep and seeming like she's snuggling into the warmth Ace radiates thanks to his Devil Fruit powers. He's just amazed by her, her tiny little nose and the beautiful, dark eyelashes that brush her chubby little cheeks. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen after you of course.

Ace fights not to cry but can't help the few tears that sneak out, wiping them away on his sleeve quickly, the one time he wears a shirt and it's the day you give birth to the newest love of his life.

Gosh, he always knew you were amazing. Now you've given him a family of his own, how could he ever repay you?

"Thank you for her...she's so perfect."

Ace can't seem to tear his eyes away from your daughter's little face, and that's okay with you. She's his baby too, he needs to have some time with her.

"What do you think we should name her, Ace?"

Oh. Oh crap, she does need a name huh?

~~

Law doesn't even have a chance to think about it, he's holding your son immediately after birth since he was the one to help you deliver obviously. Once your baby boy is wrapped in a towel Law hands him right to you before checking to make sure you're doing all right. Your vitals are all normal and stable, he's relived that you're both fine, while he watches you talk to your crying newborn.

You tell him that it doesn't count that he held your son right away since he's your and the boy's doctor, eventually getting Law to sit down and actually hold him as his father instead. Your son kept fussing and crying until Law finally got to hold him, the newborn quieting after a few moments but keeping his eyes shut tight and his little hands in fists as he kept whining.

Once he finally opens his eyes to stare up at Law, it's probably the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life apart from Bepo.

Especially once you catch sight of a few tears in Law’s eyes, making you smile softly as you lean back to just watch them. He's quick to rub at his eyes and make them stop, but the few sniffles you hear every bit tell you he's trying to stop himself from looking like a bigger baby than your literal baby he's holding.

He's never actually held a baby so tiny, not since Lammy was born. And to know this is his son, it's crazy to think about while he watches your baby boy start to fall asleep.

He really does wish his parents, sister, and Cora-san were there. They'd all love to meet your son, and you know he's thinking that, but you hope realizes that all the Heart Pirates are going to love your little boy just as much as his family would have.

And that eases the sting a bit, especially when they all do get to meet your son, and not a single one of them is without tears, beyond happy for you and their beloved captain.

~~

Penguin almost begs to hold your daughter once she's born and you're both stable. Law tries to push him away while he takes your daughter's vitals and measurements, asking how on earth you dealt with Penguin being so clingy the last nine months, which just makes you laugh.

"Go sit with your wife, damn it, I'll bring her over in a minute."

"But, captain--"

"Penguin, just come over here for now."

Penguin sits beside your bed and pouts until Law finally brings your daughter over, about to hand her to you before you direct him to your husband. Both ask if you're absolutely sure you want Penguin to hold her first, until you confirm it, and Law hands your daughter to her father, showing him the right away to hold her, before he leaves the three of you alone for a few minutes.

Penguin is absolutely enthralled with her. She's still fussy from being born, stretching out her little arms and legs, making cute little sounds, and he just can't believe she's finally here. He feels like you two waited an eternity for her to be born, now she has been! She's so small, she fits perfectly in his arms and it makes him want to cry so much.

"She's so tiny."

"And she looks just like you, Peng."

~~

Due to you having twins, you hold your son while Sanji holds your daughter, blubbering like the baby girl was because he's just so happy to have these babies with you. It makes you want to laugh hearing him cry, watching him kiss your daughter's forehead to try and calm her down while he dotes on her and you give your son attention.

"You're an angel, a perfect little gift from heaven!"

When you finally swap which baby you're each holding, Sanji still cries, happy to have a son too! He never really thought you'd have twins, or that they'd be fraternal on top of it! Both are so precious to him, you're precious to him, this little family you've now built together.

Your daughter has his hair, but your son looks just like you to Sanji. He kisses your son's forehead before looking at you and your newborn daughter, still unable to believe this is going to be his life from now on. You, and him, and your two tiny blessings.

"I love you so, so much."

He can't wait to call Zeff and let him know the good news.

~~

Zoro has no worries or qualms or tears when holding your son for the first time. Actually, it doesn't hit him for a few hours that he has a child now.

Your son is so quiet most of his first day outside the womb, sleeping and eating, only fussing when he needs something, but you're able to calm him down quickly. The way you're able to do that when this is your first baby impresses Zoro more than anything today.

It's only once you're asleep and he's holding your son again that it really gets to him. There's another person depending on him now, this one being his own flesh and blood, his newborn son that already looks just like him. His hands are so tiny, he's not even able to fully get his little fingers around one of Zoro's fingers.

Chopper made sure you both were left alone for the day, Zoro taking a bed next to yours and laying back with your son on his chest that night. That's when he realized just how small your baby is. His hand covered the newborn's back completely, his tiny hand fisting Zoro's shirt as he slept, small coos and whines coming from him every now and then. Zoro looks at you for a moment, before back to your son with a smile.

Your son may not have been planned, but Zoro's more than accepting of how his life is turning out.

~~

Note 2: I am absolutely willing to elaborate on these men and their children. If anyone wants to see something specific, just send me a message! I'll be posting more of my own thoughts too!

[mononijikayu]

and there was something 'bout you (that now I can't remember) — fushiguro megumi.

Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.” "My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto. The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow. It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern no curses au;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, fluff, aged up characters, brief one sided romance, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, future, letting go, break up, getting back together, depiction of character death, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of illness, mention of illness, mention of loneliness;

WORD COUNT: 21k words

NOTE: when i sent this to my beta reader last night, it was like 17k words. it ended with 5k more words than it needed to be. but with how i write, i just end up being the most unpredictable person. even to myself. i wanted to write about megumi cause i missed him. i hope yall guys understand. anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot!!! i'll see you soon on the next one!!! i love you all <3

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MEETING YOU FELT LIKE DESTINY. And he would not have it any other way. If one was being honest, you were the only other constant in Fushiguro Megumi’s life – besides his sister Tsumiki and Gojo Satoru. But that was to be expected. He trusted no one.

He likes to think he was a tough crowd, that he wasn’t easy to please. But Megumi expected that. After all, what child wouldn’t have that issue, when his dad left him and his sister to fend for themselves at such a young age? He was bound to have mistrust for everyone and anyone who can’t prove themselves. 

He hadn’t expected to make a friend, not really. If he was being honest, talking to people wasn’t something he excelled at, and reading others’ expressions felt like a puzzle he was never meant to solve.

He was and always will be someone who had a hard time with people. But then there was you, full of unexpected warmth, approaching him on the playground, holding out your prized Charizard card in exchange for his Jigglypuff. You seemed to be the exception. 

“Hey, you!” You pointed at him like he was a riddle you had just solved. Megumi blinked, glancing around to make sure you weren’t talking to someone else.

“Yes?” He answered, the single word sounding more like a question.

You marched up to him, unbothered by the silence that followed. “I’ll trade you my Charizard for your Jigglypuff.”

Megumi’s brows knit together in disbelief. He stared down at the holographic card you offered, one that every kid in school would beg to have, and then at the tiny, pink Jigglypuff in his hands that no one ever wanted.

“Why?” he asked, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Charizard is powerful. Why do you want this weak card?”

“Because it’s cute! And I love cute things! Well…everything cute, really!” you said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 

Your smile was bright, eyes crinkling as if you were laughing at a secret only you knew. When he slowly handed over the Jigglypuff card, your face lit up with such joy that it made Megumi feel like he had done something incredible. You hugged the card to your chest and then looked at him with a grin. 

“Thank you for trading with me! Do you wanna be friends?”

Fushiguro Megumi stared at you for a good few seconds, stunned by your straightforwardness. You were smiling all throughout that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. And he could feel it, even then.

You pulled him so close to you with your magnetic pull. He spun around you almost immediately, like the moon embracing the earth. But before he could answer, you added with a playful tilt of your head. 

“I’ll even let you win in tag! And…and I can share my candies! My mommy gave me a lot to share!”

A small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t notice it himself at first. But he likes to think that he only remembered how he smiled years later, when you pointed out to him. Yet all he could focus on is how you smiled at him. How you were so happy, waiting for his answer to your invitation. 

“You’re on.” he said, his voice soft but resolute.

That continued on as you both found yourself living in bodies that grew older and minds that grew wiser. Years passed and yet you had only gotten closer to one another. Both of you were now in middle school, and almost everyday since then — you had always been together.

Fushiguro Megumi could not remember a day where you both were ever even apart. Just one smile and he was hooked. His morning, his noon and night would be consumed by you. And he rinses and repeats. 

The playground turned into hallways and classrooms, and those silly childhood games were replaced with quiet study sessions and whispered jokes. But the feeling you gave him never changed.

He still felt like he was holding something rare and precious whenever you smiled at him like that. Everything about your smile was the most precious warmth he could ever feel, that he admits.

One evening, as you both sat under the orange sky, your laughter from an earlier joke fading into content silence, you turned to him, resting your chin on your knee. “Hey, Megumi?”

He glanced over, meeting your eyes that were as warm as ever. “Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about how lucky we are to have met?” you said, your voice light but sincere.

Megumi looked down at his hands for a moment, feeling the weight of your question. “Yeah.” he replied, his voice low. Then, looking back at you with a rare, soft smile, he added, “More than you know.”

You blinked in surprise, cheeks turning pink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Megumi shrugged, eyes glinting with a teasing challenge. “Figure it out, you dummy.”

As your laughter rang out, he knew, in that moment, that he was irrevocably in love with you. He always had been, and he always would be.

Your laughter bubbled into the quiet evening air, filling the space around you both with a warmth that wrapped itself around Megumi like a familiar embrace. You playfully nudged his shoulder, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“Oh, so now you’re mysterious, huh? Fushiguro Megumi, you’re supposed to be the serious one!”

Megumi huffed a soft chuckle, a rare sound that made your heart skip. “Maybe I’ve been keeping secrets all this time, you know?” he said, his tone light, though there was a weight behind it that he didn’t dare show.

Your eyebrows rose as you leaned in, eyes narrowing with curiosity. “Secrets? Like what?” You poked his arm playfully, eyes alight with mischief. “Spill it, or I’ll never let you live it down.”

He met your gaze for a moment, searching your face, the sunset casting warm shadows across your features. The thought of confessing everything—how many nights he’d spent thinking about you, worrying about you, loving you, it all made everything tighten in his chest. But he pushed it back down, letting the familiar wall settle back into place.

“There are some secrets that are better left unsaid, you dummy.” he said, his voice steady but distant.

You pouted, crossing your arms with a huff. “You always do that. You’re always hiding things from me, Megumi. You know you can trust me, right?”

His eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I know, I know.” he said, pausing before adding. “But you shouldn’t hide things from me either. Like when your boyfriend stands you up.”

The playful expression fell from your face, replaced by surprise. You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. “How did you—”

“I just know.” he interrupted, looking away, his jaw tightening as he bit back the frustration that had been building inside him for weeks.

He hated the way you always made excuses for people who didn’t deserve you. He hated even more that you loved the wrong ones. You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you gave a small shrug.

“He’s busy, you know he’s on the baseball team.” you said, though your voice was thin, even to your own ears.

Megumi clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to argue, to tell you that being “busy” wasn’t a good enough reason. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, didn’t want to see you upset. So, he said nothing.

Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.”

"My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto.

The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow.

It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.

The air between you was heavy, charged with words unsaid and emotions kept at bay. Megumi felt his fingers twitch again, that familiar pull to reach for you, to close the space that always felt like miles, even when it was only inches.

You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitting in concern as you noticed the silence. “Megumi, are you okay?” 

Your voice was soft, searching, the way it always was when you sensed something under the surface. He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

“Thinking? Now that’s dangerous!” you joked, nudging him lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. It was an attempt to bring back the lightness, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, a sound that surprised even him.

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” he replied, his voice low, but there was warmth in it, the kind reserved only for you.

You tilted your head, studying him like he was one of your favorite puzzles to solve. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’m here, right? You don’t have to keep things to yourself.”

The sincerity in your eyes, in the way you said those words, nearly broke him. He swallowed hard, willing the emotions to stay under control. I know, he wanted to say. And that’s why this hurts so much.

“I know.” he said instead, and it was all he could manage. The truth weighed heavy on his tongue, but he bit it back, holding on to this moment instead; the warmth of your presence, the sound of your laughter lingering in the air.

For now, this was enough. He would live in the warmth of your voice calling his name, over and over, in this moment that felt like forever.

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HE ALREADY EXPECTED FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. Fushiguro Megumi came as soon as he got your call. How could he not show up? He had to. You needed him. More than ever, especially now. The moment he heard your shaky voice, his heart clenched with worry and anger. He had to get to you. He had to put his anger aside.

But he can't help it. He'd never liked him. That jerk of an ex-boyfriend of yours. And now all he could think is, how dare he break your heart? He was unworthy from the beginning and now he thinks he gets the right to you miserable?

His mind raced, weaving through every memory of seeing you smile, laugh, and light up at the smallest things, now replaced by the image of you in pain. Even that thought makes him even more angrier. He hated it. More than anything, more than you jerk of an ex-boyfriend.

Megumi felt like he was going to lose it. He always loses it when it comes to you. Everything about you was something that he felt like he had to cherish and treasure. And so, he bears everything about you, happiness or joy, as a part of him.

Because he loved you. More than anyone else in the world, he liked to believe. His love wasn’t flashy or loud; it was quiet, deep, and constant, like an unspoken promise woven through the moments you shared. 

And yet, people claimed to love you and then hurt you without a second thought. The unfairness of it all made his love even stronger, more resolute. It was a love that stayed in the silent spaces between words, in the way he noticed when you were tired, or remembered how you took your tea, or lingered on your laugh long after you’d left.

But saying it out loud? That was different. He didn’t think he could do that—not now, when you were hurting. Now, when the shattered pieces of your heart weren’t his to fix, but his to hold steady until you could piece them back together.

The rain came down harder as he found you, sitting alone on the cold, wet bench, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your hair was plastered to your face, water streaming down your cheeks, indistinguishable from your tears. You looked up when he called your name, and the raw anguish in your eyes made his breath hitch.

Everything was soaking through his jacket as he searched the park.  But he could care less. Not when he stood here, watching you continue to sit on the bench under the dim glow of a streetlight, your knees pulled to your chest and your shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The sight made something twist in his chest so fiercely it hurt.

“Hey.” he called softly as he approached, his voice steady but urgent. You didn’t look up, too lost in your world of hurt, raindrops mingling with the tears that fell freely down your cheeks.

“Megumi…….” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the pounding rain.

He dropped down in front of you without hesitation, his jeans soaking through as he knelt in the puddles. “Hey.” he whispered, reaching out to push a wet strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, deliberate, as if afraid you’d break. 

“Are you alright?” The question was hollow, a placeholder for everything he couldn’t put into words.

A humorless laugh escaped your lips, bitter and fragile. “No. Not even close.”

Megumi’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say so much—that you deserved better, that he would give you the world if you let him, that he’d never let anyone hurt you if he could help it. But all he could do was cup your face in his hands, fingers warm against your chilled skin. 

“I’m here, okay?” he said, the words weighted with every unsaid promise. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes filling with fresh tears as you looked at him. His eyes, dark and fierce, were fixed on you with such intensity it made your chest ache in a different way, something softer, more hopeful. For a moment, the world around you blurred, the rain and cold forgotten in the heat of his gaze.

A fresh wave of tears welled up, but this time they weren’t just from pain. They were from the sheer relief of having him here, solid and real, when everything else felt like it was crumbling. He hated seeing you fall apart like this. He hated seeing you in so much grief about things you didn’t even need to grieve. 

“I can’t believe he—” You started, voice cracking, but Megumi cut you off with a shake of his head.

“No, no.” he said firmly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a fierce protectiveness. “You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve someone who would never make you feel this way.”

A shiver ran down your spine, part from the cold and part from the warmth in his voice. The rain dripped from his hair, tiny rivulets running down his face, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. He just stayed there, eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing that mattered.

Slowly, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, clinging tightly as if he was the last piece keeping you together. He pulled you close, the rain forgotten as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Always.”

“Why can’t everyone be like you, Megumi?” you whispered, the question hanging between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say.

He closed his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against his ribcage, aching to be let out. But he simply pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. 

“Maybe someday, I’m certain about it all.” he whispered. “You’ll see that some people are.”

In that moment, as he held you close under the downpour, Megumi vowed that even if he never said it out loud, you would always know it in the way he stayed. And as the storm raged on around you, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer.

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IF YOU WERE BEING HONEST, LIFE WAS GOOD NOW. And it was because you had Fushiguro Megumi. Around Megumi, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer. His presence anchored you, solid and reassuring, as if the world could rage on around you, but you’d be alright as long as he was there. 

The days that followed that stormy night were different. Your shared moments became longer, and your conversations deepened. You found yourself opening up to him in a way you hadn’t with anyone else, and he listened, offering small, thoughtful words that seemed to echo in your mind long after he said them.

Megumi and you became closer, like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their fit. You leaned on him more, seeking the comfort of his steady, unwavering support. Whether it was the simple act of sharing a quiet study session or walking side by side down the crowded school halls, you started to feel his presence as a constant, a pillar in your life. And with each passing moment, Megumi found himself falling deeper.

It was in the little things—the way your laughter returned, hesitant at first, then full and bright whenever he made a rare, dry joke. You’d throw your head back, eyes crinkled with genuine joy, and he’d pretend to be focused on something else just so he could hide his smile.

“You’re not even funny, you know that?” you teased one afternoon, nudging him with your shoulder as you both walked through the park, the sun filtering through the leaves.

“Oh? I didn’t know you laughed at unfunny things.” he replied, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “I guess I make exceptions.”

It was also in the way your hand would find him during the quiet moments—when you both sat on the school steps, waiting for the last of the rain to clear, or when you talked late at night under a sky full of stars.

Your touch was unconscious, as if you didn’t realize the effect it had on him, but each time it sent warmth radiating through his chest, melting the layers of doubt he wore like armor.

One evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of pink and orange, you sat together on the small bench in your favorite park. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. You turned to him, your eyes soft and thoughtful. 

“Do you ever wonder why some people come into your life at the exact moment you need them?”

He met your gaze, the question settling between you. His heart thudded, a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah.” he said, his voice steady but quiet. “I think about it a lot.”

You tilted your head, studying him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. “I’m glad you’re in mine, Megumi.”

The simple statement was enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him. He looked away, the hint of pink dusting his cheeks, and muttered, “Me too.”

Moments like these made him realize just how deeply he’d fallen for you. Fushiguro Tsumiki had caught on, of course. She knew Megumi best in the world. She’d grin knowingly whenever he brought up your name, and she wasn’t subtle about giving him nudges when you came over. Megumi thinks he would have no peace at home knowing all that.

“You need to tell them, your feelings.” she’d say with a pointed look. “They deserve to know.”

Gojo Satoru, in his typical flamboyant manner, took every opportunity to pester him. “If you don’t say something soon, I swear I’m going to set up a banner. ‘Confess, Megumi!’ at your school. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even use sparkles!” he’d joke, bright blue eyes gleaming with mischief.

Megumi would glare, a mix of irritation and anxiety bubbling inside him. But when he was alone, his mind would wander to the what-ifs. What if he told you, and everything changed? What if the easy moments between you became strained? He couldn’t stand the thought of losing this version of you, where your laughter was shared and your touch was easy.

One evening, when you were leaving after spending the day together, you turned back at the door, eyes bright. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked.

He nodded, feeling that familiar warmth bloom in his chest. “Yeah, same time.”

You beamed at him, that smile—the one that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. And as you walked away, Megumi felt the pull to call out, to say something, anything.

But the fear gripped him, held him back. For now, he’d stay in the safety of what you had, even as his heart whispered that someday soon, he’d need to be brave enough to reach for more.

And more and more, his sister and Gojo were starting to notice how he’s falling for you. Tsumiki noticed the way he watched you when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes softened when you spoke. 

After dinner tonight, she caught him staring at his phone after reading a text from you, a small, knowing smile spread across her face. Megumi wasn’t even sure that he was that obvious. But he was.

Everyone was aware, more than he would have liked. It was his private life and yet, it was his own fault how it seeped in the real world. Yet, it was like that when it came to you. He can’t help it. 

“Megumi.” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “it’s high time you tell them how you feel.”

He looked up, startled. “What? No. It’s not… I mean—” He fumbled, cheeks turning red as he struggled to find an excuse.

Satoru, who had been lounging nearby and catching every word, let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Megumi knew that Gojo Satoru was going to annoy him about this. Tsumiki is one thing. But that was his elder sister.

He was bound to just let her get into his life. But it was different when it came to their guardian. He was more of an annoying adult to Megumi. And he didn’t like how he touched his life like that. Even if he knew it was care.

“Kid, if you don’t confess, I’m going to make a banner and announce it to the entire school I teach at, when you visit.” he teased, eyes gleaming mischievously. “It’s so painfully obvious. Even the kids at the school picked up on that fact! Do you know how obvious you have to be that kid Todo picked up on?”

Megumi glared at him, but his usual annoyance didn’t stick. Instead, a flicker of anxiety gnawed at him, deep and stubborn. He knew Tsumiki and Gojo were right. He’d heard the whispers of his own heart long enough; he knew he was in love with you. But the idea of confessing it out loud? Of risking everything he already had with you? It paralyzed him.

“What if… what if it ruins things?” he muttered, looking down at his hands. The idea of you looking at him differently, of you stepping back, distancing yourself—it was unbearable. “What if they don’t feel the same? I don’t want to lose what we have now.”

Tsumiki’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Megumi, you’ll never know unless you try. And if they care about you even half as much as I think they do, nothing will change.”

Satoru chimed in with a rare moment of seriousness. “Megumi, you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. You’ve faced the worst of the world already with Tsumiki. But this? This is one small leap compared to that.”

The words made sense, but fear wrapped around his chest like a vise. Every time he opened his mouth to tell you, doubt clawed its way in. He could picture the worst: your kind eyes turning sad, the warmth between you cooling into awkward silence.

But as days passed and your laughter echoed in his ears, each missed opportunity stung. Every time you looked at him with that bright smile, it chipped away at his fear, replacing it with a longing stronger than any curse he’d faced. And Megumi knew, deep down, that he couldn’t put it off forever.

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IT WAS A RARE DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL. So, it was easy for you to come and call Megumi to hang out. Megumi was someone who had a hard time going with the flow of things. He liked order in his life. But when he is with you, everything is unpredictable.

Everything was a surprise. And so he enjoyed it. He enjoyed letting you wreck his life into things he couldn’t predict. Chaos is livable when he was next to you. And perhaps, you knew that more than he did.  

And today’s request was to go to a skate park. You didn’t know how to skate, nor do you have the balance that allowed you to do so. But you saw an ad for it and you thought that trying was something that would be enjoyable for the two of you. So, Megumi sighed. But he nodded and immediately walked as you practically hopped to the booth where they rented out their skates.

The skate park was buzzing with life when you and Megumi arrived, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. Laughter and the sound of wheels on concrete filled the air as you glanced nervously at the smooth expanse of the park. Megumi noticed your hesitation and smirked, handing you a helmet.

“Don’t worry, okay?” he said, voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll be here the whole time. Just hold on if you need to.”

You nodded, cheeks warming at the idea. The two of you stepped onto the rink, and you immediately reached out, grabbing his arm for balance. He tensed slightly at the contact but relaxed when he saw the nervous smile on your face.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

“Ready.” you replied, even though your heart was thumping wildly in your chest.

The first few minutes were shaky. You wobbled and stumbled, and every time you did, Megumi’s arm was there, strong and steady. His hand eventually found its way to yours, fingers intertwining as he guided you along, step by careful step.

The warmth of his touch sent a pleasant jolt up your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing how focused he looked, his hair slightly messy from the helmet. You could feel yourself looking at him for a while and then becoming flustered when he looks back at you.

“You’re doing great.” he said, a rare smile appearing as you both glided a little more smoothly across the rink.

“Thanks to you!” you laughed breathlessly, holding on tightly when you hit a slight dip.

He steadied you immediately, the closeness making your heart stutter. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, dark and intense under the rink’s twinkling lights, and you felt a rush of something that made your stomach flutter.

As the sky darkened into twilight, the skate park began to empty, and an announcement boomed over the loudspeakers. “The park will be closing in fifteen minutes.”

You sighed, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. “I guess that’s it for tonight, huh?” you said, a wistful note in your voice.

Megumi nodded and helped you off the rink, his hand lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. You sat on a nearby bench, taking off your helmets and catching your breath. The sounds around you faded as you felt the cool evening air settle around you both.

“You know…..” Megumi started, his tone unusually hesitant. He looked at you, eyes searching yours as if gathering the courage to speak. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, teaching you how to skate. But I’m glad we did it.”

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”

He exhaled, a subtle tremor in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Because… being this close to you makes it hard to keep things to myself.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and your brows knit together slightly. “Megumi?”

He looked away, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I think—I know that I’m in love with you.”

The confession hung in the air, suspended between you as the world seemed to stand still. He winced, realizing what he’d just said, and moved to apologize, but your soft gasp interrupted him.

“You… you’re in love with me?” you repeated, eyes wide and cheeks turning rosy.

His breath caught, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know it’s sudden, and I don’t want things to change if you don’t feel the same. But I couldn’t keep pretending that I don’t—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes glistening. “I do. I feel the same way, Megumi.” you whispered, a smile breaking through as his eyes widened.

The tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and warmth. He let out a breathy chuckle, the sound rare and real. “You do?” he asked, almost as if needing to hear it again.

You nodded, your fingers finding him and squeezing them tightly. “Yes, I do.”

The skate park around you was closing, but neither of you noticed. For now, the world shrank to just the two of you, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights and the lingering thrill of confessions finally shared.

Megumi's surprise softened into a smile, rare and full of something warm and unguarded. He still held your hands, fingers intertwined as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world around you blurring into a comforting haze.

The distant sounds of closing gates and murmurs of the last stragglers leaving the park faded away, leaving only the two of you under the soft, golden streetlights. Yet that all faded to the background. All you could do was focus on the warmth in Megumi's beautiful blue-green orbs. All you could think about was how the world felt brighter when he was by your side.

“Say it again, please.” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if part of him still couldn’t believe it.

You laughed, the sound light and full of joy as you leaned in a little closer. “I love you, Megumi. For a while now. I love you then and now.” you said, your eyes searching his face to catch every flicker of emotion. 

The way his lips parted slightly, the way his eyes softened as if he could melt under those words. Everything about it had made your heart flutter even more. You like to think he was just good at that. He swallowed, unable to suppress the smile that stretched across his face. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” he admitted, his voice rough but sincere.

“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted to say it.” you teased, nudging him playfully. He chuckled, the sound deep and unfamiliar even to him, and you couldn’t help but notice how it made him look so much more at ease. “I’m sorry if I took a long while.”

The cool breeze picked up, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees, and you shivered involuntarily. Without thinking, Megumi slipped out of his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, his hands lingering at the collar to pull it snug. The fabric smelled like him; fresh and warm, with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place but that was uniquely Megumi.

“Thank you.” you said, your voice soft. Your eyes met his, and the look you exchanged was filled with so many unsaid words, promises and relief, all bundled together in a way that made your chest ache in the best way.

He glanced down, a subtle blush creeping up his neck. “We should probably get going before they lock us in.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.

You nodded, but neither of you made a move to stand just yet. You both sat in that quiet moment for a little longer, soaking in the newness of what had just unfolded. Finally, Megumi stood up and offered you his hand, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulled you to your feet.

“Let’s get you home.” he said, the weight of the evening settling comfortably between you as you walked away from the now-closed skate park, your hands still intertwined.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the city wrapping around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was a contentment in his expression, a relaxed curve to his mouth that spoke of unguarded happiness.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, nudging him lightly.

He glanced at you, eyes soft under the glow of the streetlights. “How I’m going to make sure I never keep something like that from you again.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you smiled, leaning against him as you walked. “Good.” you said. “Because I plan on telling you every day.”

And as the two of you continued on into the night, the air between you felt different—not just safe, but full of new possibilities, laughter, and love that was finally yours to share.

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EVERYTHING HAPPENS AND CHANGES ALL THE TIME. You and Megumi were the happiest you’d ever been for a long time. Moving into the city had felt like an unspoken promise, a step forward toward a shared future.

A bright beautiful future that had once been only whispers in the quiet of your conversations. Together, you carved out a life in the heart of the bustling city, with its endless hum of activity and its ever-changing face. 

You found an apartment that felt like it belonged to both of you. The floors creaked underfoot, their sound a reminder of the stories they held, the small, quiet moments of shared joy and unspoken understanding.

Big windows let the sunlight pour in during the mornings, catching the dust in beams of gold as you sat side by side with your coffee. The place was imperfect, but in that imperfection, it was beautiful, just like your life together.

Your days were spent in a rhythm that had once been in sync, the sounds of laughter and comfortable silence filling the air. You’d talk about everything and nothing at all. Sometimes, it was about the art you were working on, the colors you’d used, or the gallery you were preparing for. 

Other times, it was about his latest case, his eyes alight with the thrill of a challenge. You would stay up late, your feet tangled together under the blanket as you exchanged stories of the day, dreams for the future, and the occasional silly moment of laughter.

But, as the years passed, everything started to shift, imperceptible at first, like the gradual turning of the pages in a book you thought you knew so well. The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now became the thing that kept you apart. 

The rhythm of your lives grew more erratic. Megumi, with his sharp mind and steady resolve, excelled in the high-stakes world of law. His career took off with rather good ease, and he quickly found himself buried in cases, depositions, meetings, and late-night strategizing. He became the star of the law firm he worked for. Everything was great for him. 

You could see it in the crease of his brow, the way he stayed up into the early hours of the morning to prepare for court, his suit always a little wrinkled, his tie always a little loose, but his focus razor-sharp.

His world was all deadlines, high-profile clients, and courtroom battles that never seemed to stop. He thrived in it; he was good at it, brilliant even—but it took him away from you, slowly but surely.

You, too, threw yourself into your work, determined to build something of your own, to carve out your place in a world that sometimes felt like it was moving too fast for you. Your art became your refuge, the studio your sanctuary.

The city, with its mix of people, cultures, and experiences, was your muse. You found inspiration in the chaos and the beauty that wove through every street, every corner, every passerby. 

But the more you painted, the more you found yourself lost in the solitude of it all. Late nights in galleries preparing for shows or days in the studio felt like your only real connection to the world.

Your mind was constantly racing with ideas, concepts, colors that needed to be captured before they slipped away. Your hands, once so used to holding his, now spent more time wrapped around a paintbrush than around his.

And so, the distance between you grew. The gap that once felt small, just a quiet space between moments, now felt insurmountable. You would come home to an empty apartment, the silence of it pressing in on you. Megumi would still be at the office, still lost in the whirlwind of his cases, his phone buzzing with messages that had to be answered immediately. 

You’d sit at the table, dinner half-eaten, waiting for him to walk through the door, but he rarely came home before midnight. When he did, he’d be tired, exhausted, really and you’d try your best to carry the conversation, but the words never came as easily as they once had. 

He’d ask about your day, but his eyes would already be half-closed, his attention already elsewhere. You’d tell him about the gallery event or the new piece you were working on, but his responses would be short, distracted. Everything else besides his work became second. Everything else started to fade away into the background. Even you.

The moments that once felt so natural disappeared into the fog. You had always, the both of you, understood each other without speaking. But soon enough, everything began to feel strained, stretched thin under the weight of your respective worlds. You’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing beside you, as he focused on reading case files on bed. Every night was like this. 

It felt like he was a million miles away. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t feel him. It was like he wasn’t there. And that broke your heart over and over. Because all you wanted was him. Yet you couldn’t even have that. You couldn’t even have a moment. You couldn’t win. Not against fate itself.

There was no more laughter, no more stolen moments of joy in the middle of a busy day. It was as if the world around you was moving faster than you could keep up with, and you and Megumi were just trying to hold on to what little of each other remained.

The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now felt like a vast, indifferent landscape, a place where the two of you had become lost. And no matter how hard you tried to cling to the life you’d built, the distance between you was undeniable. It became this seesaw game. Both of you are waiting for someone to step out of it. 

The silence grew, and the cracks started to form. Megumi, buried in his work, became more distant, his tired eyes unable to meet yours for longer than a few moments.

And you lost in the world of your art, your mind constantly in motion could just feel like it began to feel as though you couldn’t do anything but chase. You were chasing something that would always stay just out of reach. You were chasing a ghost. 

In the stillness of those long, lonely nights, you began to wonder how it all had slipped away so quietly. You had promised each other that nothing would come between you that no matter how much life changed, you’d always have each other. But promises, like time, sometimes slip through your fingers, and before you knew it, you were both holding on to something that wasn’t there anymore.

And it hurt more than anything you’d ever known.

The times when your paths crossed grew fewer, and each time they did, it felt more like a fleeting moment you couldn’t quite hold on to. Mornings that once held the warmth of shared cups of coffee and quiet conversation were now replaced with hurried mornings. 

That quick abrupt hum of the alarm clock pulling you out of bed faster than you could stretch. You’d barely exchange more than a quick kiss goodbye as you rushed out the door, his briefcase already in hand, your mind already occupied with the tasks of the day ahead.

The breakfasts that had once been filled with laughter, with soft smiles and small talk about what lay ahead, had transformed into something mechanical. You’d grab your coffee, he’d grab his briefcase, and you’d both be off, each of you retreating into your own world before the day even began.

Evenings weren’t much better. The quiet, intimate moments you’d shared over dinner, the kind that had made your world feel so right, had all but disappeared. Now, there were nights when you would come home to find him already asleep on the couch, his suit still on, papers scattered around him like a battlefield. 

His face was soft with exhaustion, the tension in his body unmistakable even in sleep. His tie was loosened, his shirt wrinkled, but still, he’d sleep through it all, the weight of the day too heavy for him to shed. And he wouldn’t notice that look in your eyes. That sadness you couldn’t help but carry for this doomed relationship.

You’d watch him for a moment, your heart aching at the sight, but then you’d quietly tiptoe past him, too tired yourself to wake him. The faint sound of his breathing was the only noise in the apartment, and you’d retreat into your own solitude, thinking maybe tomorrow would be different.

Sometimes, you’d come home after a late gallery event, the city lights outside your window blurred in the reflection of the glass. You’d see the faint glow from his office, a soft halo of light against the shadows.

He wouldn’t even notice how your presence creaked the wooden doors open. He wouldn’t even budge at the sound of your keys clanking. Or your familiar footsteps merging with the mahogany ground. He wouldn’t notice a damn thing.

But you would notice everything about him. Fushiguro Megumi would still be sitting there, case files spread out on the desk, his eyes glazed from hours of staring at legal jargon that never seemed to make sense. You’d try to keep the frustration at bay, try to remind yourself that this was just temporary, that everything would settle soon. 

But every time you’d reach out your hand and you would ask.

“Do you want to take a break? Maybe we can grab dinner?” 

Sometimes you wish you didn't ask. 

Because his response would be the same.

“I can’t tonight. Too much work.”

And you’d nod, the words dying in your throat, as you retreated again, feeling the ache in your chest grow with every passing day. The apartment, once a place of warmth and shared moments, now felt cold and empty, no matter how many art pieces you filled it with. It was just you, and him, but you were worlds apart.

And then the fights started.

They were small at first—an offhand comment here, a sigh there, barely even loud enough to be called a fight. But they were enough. The tension built in the small spaces between words, in the way you’d avoid eye contact when you both spoke. You’d complain about him missing dinner again, how you’d waited hours for him to come home, only for him to slip quietly into bed without saying a word.

“I can’t be in two places at once, you know that.” he’d reply, his voice tight, a trace of guilt mixed with irritation in his words. “You knew what I was getting into when I started this job.”

And you knew, deep down, you had known. But that didn’t make it any easier. The dinners you’d missed together, the quiet evenings you spent alone, your frustrations, your loneliness. It all built up until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. You tried to be patient. But you know that patience always has an expiration date. And yours had started to tick, like a bomb just waiting for the right time waiting to explode.

Everything felt useless now. Everything was one blow away from cracking down. The things you used to say to each other, the things that had made you feel so close, now felt hollow and distant. The love that had once been so certain now felt strained, fragile, as though it might crumble at any moment.

One evening, after a particularly grueling week for both of you, you came home from a late gallery event to find Megumi at the dining table, his tie loosened and his hair disheveled, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than usual.

He had papers scattered everywhere, the remnants of his latest case still strewn across the table like debris from a battle he couldn’t quite win. He didn’t even look up when you entered, his focus entirely on the papers in front of him.

“Another late night?” he asked, not even looking up from the papers in front of him.

“Yeah.” you said shortly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “Like every other night.”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We never see each other anymore.”

“Whose fault is that?” you shot back before you could stop yourself. The room felt colder immediately, your own words stinging in the silence that followed.

“You know this is important, both our careers are.” he said, voice strained, but his tone didn’t soothe the growing ache in your chest.

“And what about us, Megumi? When did we stop being important?”

He looked up at you, eyes tired but holding that glimmer of hurt. “We are. We’re just… trying to keep up.”

“It doesn’t feel like we’re keeping up.” you whispered, eyes starting to sting with tears. “It feels like we’re falling apart.”

The silence that settled was heavy, pressing down on both of you. He stood up, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. “What do you want me to do? Stop working? This is what I have to do. You know that.”

“And this is what I have to do.” you said, gesturing to your art supplies strewn around the room. “But we’re not making it work, Megumi. We’re barely making it through the day without fighting.”

He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and for a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of the old Megumi shining through. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the weight of reality.

There was panic in the way he looked at you. You felt a bile form at your throat. You knew what it looked like. He was realizing it. He saw that sadness in your eyes. The sadness that he had hated so much on you, he had caused it on you. 

“I don’t know how to fix this. I….” he said, his voice low and raw. “Babe, I’m so sorry—”

You took a shaky breath, the words you’d been avoiding suddenly tumbling out. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t try to fix it anymore. I’m tired of all this, Megumi. I am….I am genuinely exhausted from trying to make it work.”

“Babe, listen we can talk this out and we can make it work. I know we can. We—”

“Maybe we should break up.”

The room went still, the echo of your words ringing louder than anything else. His blue–gren eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hurt coloring his features. Those words were the hardest you could ever say.

But perhaps it was the right words to say. Because he looked at you for the first time ever and finally, he saw you. He finally sees you, after such a long nightmare. 

“You don’t mean that. You—” he said, almost pleadingly, stepping closer.

“I do.” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t take this anymore, Megumi. We’re just making each other miserable, and it’s not fair to either of us.”

His shoulders sagged, and for the first time in a long while, he looked defeated. He reached out, almost as if he wanted to pull you back into a time when things were easier, when love was all you needed to bridge any gap.

But he stopped himself, letting his hand fall to his side. A sad small smile dances on your lips, biting them soon after. You could feel the tears fall from your weary eyes.

You were tired of fighting for something he couldn’t. You were tired of doing it by yourself. And he knew that. He knew that all too well. There were no other ways for him to stop you from leaving him, from leaving all this pain behind. Pain he had caused you over and over again. Pain that would scar you for as long as you lived.

“I don’t want to lose you.” he said softly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

You looked away, fighting the sob that threatened to break free. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we’re already losing each other.”

The words were so raw, so full of meaning, that it made your heart ache. But you could feel the wall between you two now, the one that you’d both been building without realizing it. You both don’t know your place in this relationship. You have outgrown it and it wasn’t even both your faults. It just….is life.

“I don’t want to lose you either, you know that.” you said, your voice shaking. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Megumi. I don’t know if I can keep waiting for you to come home when you’re already gone.”

The silence that fell over the two of you was deafening. The room felt colder, the space between you growing with every word that went unsaid. You stared at each other, both lost in the same silence, both unsure of where to go from here. The city outside continued to hum, oblivious to the cracks that were starting to form in the life you’d once built so carefully together.

The silence this time, it felt final. And as you both stood there, the city’s lights flickering through the window, you realized that sometimes love isn’t enough to fight against the things that pull you apart.

There were city lights, lights brighter than anything else. It was like the universe was here, and the stars beamed towards you both, like lovers. And yet, you were everything but in that moment. You were two people who finally saw the seesaw needs to fall down.

“I’ll pack my things.” You say to him, smiling ever sadder than before. “I’ll stay with a friend tonight. And…I’ll come back for my things.”

He doesn’t say another word. But you can tell. He was close to crying. Yet he gives you one singular nod as you slowly walk towards him and place your hand on his cheek. As though it was the last time you would ever touch him.

He looks up from his gaze on the ground, trying to memorize this image of you. You can tell there was desperation. What if he doesn’t see you again? What does he do?

“I loved you so much.” You said, the past tense making him flinch slightly. It was the hardest word to even pronounce. It  felt harder to say five words than the usual three. “I still do. But��I have to go. For our sake.”

“Don’t….” He whispers weakly. “Don’t tell me this, not after we just….”

“Goodbye, Megumi.” You tell him, with finality. A smile blunt on your face, trying to make this memory redeemable. “I hope you live a long and happy life.”

When you walked out, the city lights looked at you and blinked.

And yet, Fushiguro Megumi felt like he didn’t know what to do.

But he doesn’t stop you as you walk away, taking warmth away.

He lets you go, because loving you meant living without you too.

That was the risk of loving someone, that was the risk of living in love.

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A LOT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU BLINK. And that’s what happened. He didn’t expect it to happen, change will always have permanence. As much as time. Both are uncontrollable forces of nature. And he hated it.

It’s been five years now since you and Megumi had last stood on solid ground together, since the life you built had slowly crumbled under the weight of work, time, and distance. 

The memory of your arguments, your silences, still lingered in the back of his mind like a distant ache, a reminder of what once was and what was no longer. But time had done little to heal that wound.

In fact, Fushiguro Megumi had become even more entrenched in his work, burying himself in his career as a lawyer, trying to forget that, in the end, he had lost the one person who meant the most to him.

Now, sitting in a sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic burning his nose, he felt like he was living in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His eyes were locked onto the doctor in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, still processing what had just been said. The words hung in the air, thick with finality.

“Mr. Fushiguro, the test results confirm that you’ve inherited a hereditary condition from your father. It’s genetic and unfortunately, there's no cure.”

The doctor’s voice was calm, clinical, as though she were explaining a minor inconvenience, as though it was him talking to the jury at court. But Fushiguro Megumi heard nothing but the echo of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. 

He could barely process the words, the shock still settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. He’d always heard whispers about his father, that old man. Megumi didn’t care when he left. He still had Tsumiki. And then he had Gojo and then….. 

Megumi stops himself. He frowns deeper. He was not having the best of luck in lif. He likes to think he never has. Now, he is haunted and suffers more about this man who left them. He has to come back in the form of this stupid illness.

This stupid illness that would now be killing him slowly and fully. He wants to laugh out loud. Because, this was something else entirely. How cruel fate can be. How much of a comedy it is, how much of a stupid thing it is.

He leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him. A laugh threatened to slip from his lips, but it did.

Everything about it wasn’t one of humor. It was jagged and bitter, a laugh born of frustration, anger, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had simmered in his chest for years.

His blue–green gaze didn’t leave the doctor, but his eyes darkened towards the doctor. The doctor seemed to be unfazed by his reaction. Megumi felt like he was the same as the doctor when he was at court sometimes. Those cases don’t faze him. 

He had seen it all. And everyone had gotten mad at him at times too. And yet there was only disbelief now. He was on the other side of the aisle now. There was only surprise and then anguish and then bitterness. All of that didn’t taste good in his mouth.

“So, let me get this straight, doctor.” he began, his voice tight, almost controlled, but with an edge of fury beneath it. “My father, the man who abandoned me and Tsumiki after Mom died, is now showing up in my life, and now I’m supposed to care that I’ve inherited something from him? Something that’s going to kill me?”

The doctor faltered for a second, clearly caught off guard by the venom in his voice, but she remained professional. “It’s not quite like that, Mr. Fushiguro. Your father may not have been around, but—”

“No.” he cut her off, his fist clenching in his lap. “Don’t give me that. Don’t try to justify him. You think I care about a condition that’s been passed down through the blood of someone who doesn’t even care enough to be there when I need him?” 

“Mr. Fushiguro, please—”

His laugh returned, sharp and hollow, a bitter sound that didn’t belong in a place like this. “I never even wanted to know him. I was better off without him. And now that old man comes back. Oh god, what a fucking mess! What a comedy!”

His mind raced, the thoughts swirling in a chaotic dance of anger and disbelief. His father had left him and Tsumiki in the wake of their mother’s death, promising them nothing but silence. And he was bears with it. He always did. He always knew how to get on with life. That’s how he came to be where he is now. 

But he can’t help it. How could he? All that misery he had buried as a child comes back once more. He had thought it would never come back to the earth again. Everything about it was just as good as dead to him.

And yet, fate laughs at him. He laughs at how easy it is to push Megumi’s buttons. And he knew Megumi would react. Fate loved games and he would continue on and on, until he was satisfied. 

“You said it’s genetic, right?” he asked suddenly, his voice a little more brittle, the edge of his anger still cutting through the words. “How long do I have?”

The doctor looked at him with sympathy, but Megumi didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want the pity in her eyes. He didn’t want any of this.

“It depends on the progression of the disease.” she answered carefully, giving him the facts. “It could take years. Maybe even months. We do not know. But knowing some cases I’ve seen, It could be faster. We can try treatments, but we can’t reverse the damage already done.”

Megumi closed his blue–green eyes for a moment, his chest tightening. The realization hit him with full force: his life, the one he had built, the work, the efforts to stay busy, to keep going. None of it had prepared him for this. 

None of it had prepared him for the idea that he might not have much time left. How is he going to tell Tsumiki or Gojo? How could he prepare them for this? And to make matters worse, it was a legacy that had come from the very man who had never been there for him in the first place.

His laugh died in his throat, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake.

“Tell me this is some kind of mistake.” he muttered under his breath, as though saying the words would somehow make them untrue.

The doctor’s eyes softened, but she shook her head, handing him a folder with the test results. “I’m afraid it’s not.”

The weight of it all pressed down on him, his mind spinning. He stood abruptly, shoving the folder into his bag without a second glance, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of this sterile room before it suffocated him any further.

As he walked out of the hospital, the cool air of the evening hit him, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t help but wonder about it. What was the point of this? What was the point of surviving a life without a father only to be cursed with his legacy, a legacy that had already been stained with abandonment? What did it all mean?

He didn’t have the answers. But one thing was clear. He would never be able to look at his father the same way again. And now, he’d have to face the consequences of that. Whether he liked it or not. One way or another, it was just how it works. Fushiguro Megumi has to see that life goes on. It always has. Even in the face of death.

Yet for a moment, even if he has resigned himself to fate, he stops. 

He stops for a moment and thinks to himself and that warmth returns.

He wishes that  for what remains of life — he wished you were there with him.

Fushiguro Megumi wishes that he could see your smile and live in it again.

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HE FOUND HIMSELF DISASSOCIATING FOR A COUPLE OF MINUTES. But after news like that, who wouldn’t find themselves despondent. Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing in the hospital lobby. He’d left the doctor’s office a while ago, but his feet felt frozen to the ground, the weight of everything pressing down on him. 

His thoughts felt scrambled, and all he wanted was to get out of there, away from the sterile white walls, away from the suffocating reality of the diagnosis. The last thing he expected was to run into someone, you—after all this time.

But there you were, standing at the hospital’s entrance, your hair a little longer, your eyes just as bright, the warmth of your smile still able to stop his heart dead in its tracks. He hadn’t expected it. Not in such a place. And yet here you were. He hadn’t expected to see you here, of all places. After all, you took care of yourself well. But there you were, as beautiful and alive as ever.

At first, Megumi wasn’t sure what to do. Should he approach you? Should he pretend everything was fine? There was so much that had passed between you, so many years, so much silence.

And he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late for him to fix things. But before he could make any decision, you were already walking toward him, your gaze locking onto his like it always had when you were younger.

“Megumi.” you said softly, almost hesitantly, as though you weren’t sure how to say his name anymore.

You were still the same, and yet, you weren’t. Your voice was familiar, but the years between you had made things feel… off, awkward in a way that he hadn’t expected.

“Hey.” he said, his voice almost gruff, unsure of how to speak to you after so long.

He took a step back, unsure whether to smile, to say something casual. It was almost like he didn’t know who he was around you anymore. The man who used to be able to talk to you about anything had disappeared somewhere along the way.

You smiled, though, and for a brief moment, Megumi felt like he could breathe again. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you're here for a checkup too. You look fine to me.” you teased, and there was that playful spark in your eyes that he had missed.

Megumi shifted, looking around, as though searching for an answer that didn’t exist. The truth was, he didn’t want to tell you why he was here. Not yet. Not when he had no idea how to explain the mess his life had become.

“I’m just here… taking care of some stuff.” he muttered, the lie slipping out before he could stop it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension build again. “You know, business stuff.”

You raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing your face, but instead of pressing him further, you just shrugged. “Well, I’m not here for anything too serious. Just visiting a friend.”

"Oh, I see."

Your gaze softened as you spoke, the smile on your face softening the more you looked at him. "I didn’t expect to see you here. Not after all this time."

Megumi nodded, biting his lip. No kidding, he thought to himself. The years had passed, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this. He hadn’t expected to feel so... unsure. He wasn’t used to this distance between you two. Not like this.

“Well....” you said, after a pause. You rubbed the back of your neck. “Do you want to grab dinner or something? I don’t know about you, but I could really use some decent food after dealing with all this hospital nonsense.”

At first, Megumi hesitated, unsure if he should take the invitation. But something about the ease in your voice, the casual familiarity of it, made him relent. “Sure. I guess I could go for something... edible.” he said, trying to joke, but it came out more stiff than he wanted.

You laughed, the sound of it bringing back memories of the good old days when life was simpler and he didn’t have to carry the weight of unspoken words between you. You waved him off, but there was something in your eyes, something gentle and patient, like you weren’t rushing him to explain himself.

The two of you walked out of the hospital together, falling into step like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was awkward at first, the silence between you hanging heavy, but as you got settled at the restaurant, everything started to fall back into place.

You ordered something light, and Megumi, on autopilot, ordered something simple—a dish he could eat quickly. The waiter left, and for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, not quite knowing how to bridge the gap that had been there for years.

“So…..” you began, after a while, trying not to be awkward. “Why were you at the hospital? Don’t tell me you have a broken bone or something.”

Megumi’s eyes flickered over to you, and he was about to brush it off, to avoid answering; like he always did when it came to anything about his past, about his father.  He hoped you weren’t noticing it. He hoped that you weren’t able to see through him again.

But before he could think of a way out, he realized something: you weren’t just anyone. You were you—the person who knew him better than anyone. The person he had lost, the person who had been there for him when everything else fell apart. You had and always will know more about him than anyone else. Even if he doesn’t say anything.

He exhaled slowly, and then, without thinking, he shrugged and said, “I guess you could say I’m getting some bad news.”

You furrowed your brow in concern, and before you could ask, he let out a dry laugh, something hollow that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.”

You shook your head, already knowing where this was headed. “Megumi, your jokes are still as bad as they were when we were kids.” You leaned back in your seat with a fond smile, your eyes soft. “You’re impossible.”

He chuckled under his breath, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. The familiar rhythm of teasing, of falling back into old patterns, felt surprisingly good. His heart, which had felt heavy and weighed down for so long, was starting to feel lighter with each passing moment.

“You should’ve known,” Megumi muttered, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m the best at bad jokes.”

You laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Fushiguro.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fix what had been broken. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to the person who used to be everything to him.

But for now, he would take the little moments like this—the laughter, the shared memories, and the warmth of simply being in your presence again. Everything felt like the sun had shone on earth again. Everything felt right like this.

And, for once, he wasn’t afraid of what came next.

Fushiguro Megumi sat back in his chair, watching you as you laughed, as you teased him, and it felt like the whole world faded away for a few moments. For the first time in months, his chest didn’t feel so tight, his mind didn’t feel so heavy.

The hospital, the test results, the news about his father; they all felt like distant memories, like something that could be put on the shelf and forgotten for a while. Because in this moment, right now, the only thing that mattered was you.

He liked this. He liked the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way you still knew how to make him laugh even when everything inside him ached. There was a calmness, a sense of peace, in being around you that he hadn’t felt in years. 

The world around him had become chaotic, unpredictable, but here at this small, unassuming restaurant, sharing a quiet dinner with you. Everything about it, it made him feel… warm inside. It felt like coming home, after a long time away from it.

As the conversation flowed easily between you two, Megumi found himself watching the way you moved, the way you spoke, the way you were still you. It was like nothing had changed, like time hadn’t passed at all. Except it had. 

Five years had come and gone, and he had spent most of them buried in work, in his own personal mess of anger and hurt, while you had lived your own life. But now, seeing you here, smiling at him like this, it was like he had been given something precious he hadn’t realized he’d lost: you.

And then it hit him. That sharp pang of realization.

He was dying.

In a few months, his life, everything he had worked for, everything he had wanted, would be over. And the one thing he had always wanted, the one thing that had never wavered was sitting right across from him, smiling at him like he was everything.

You, the person he had spent his whole life running from, running toward, the person who had always been there.

And now, here you were again.

His heart skipped a beat as he processed it all.  It was all coming at him fast, like a car speeding fast towards him. He doesn’t know what to do, how to do it. Everything overwhelmed him. But then again, he thinks he’s always felt like this when it came to you. He can’t deny that whatsoever. 

Everything made him feel like a boy again. All these feelings he can’t describe makes him so overwhelmed with what life means. How much he had missed you, how much he still needed you in his life, they all started to make him wonder about it all. 

The joke, the casual teasing, the familiar warmth between you two—it was what he wanted. It was what he had always wanted. He had never allowed himself to admit it fully, not back then, not when you were both young and carefree. But now, with the weight of his diagnosis hanging over him like a dark cloud, he couldn’t deny it any longer.

It wasn’t just that he wanted to be around you. No, it was more than that. He needed to be around you, to feel your presence, your warmth, your love. The idea that he might never get to hold you close again after all this time made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t put into words.

You caught his gaze, your smile faltering just for a moment. “Hey, are you okay?” you asked, the concern in your voice immediate and genuine. “You’ve been quiet all of a sudden.”

Megumi blinked, realizing he had zoned out. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”

You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t press. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, then set it down, eyes watching him carefully. “I get that a lot lately,” you said, half-joking, half-serious. “I tend to get lost in my head too.”

He chuckled softly, trying to push away the heaviness that was creeping back into his thoughts. But it was hard. It was hard when every little thing in this moment reminded him of what he was going to lose.

He didn’t know how much time he had left. And that thought scared him more than anything. But what scared him even more was the idea of never telling you how he truly felt, never having the chance to fully be with you.

“So, what about you?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter than before. “How’s life been? Really, how are you?”

You blinked at him, clearly taken aback by the change in tone. “You know, same as usual. Gallery events, late nights at the studio… You know, the usual chaos,” you said with a small smile. But then, you tilted your head. “And you? You’ve been working so much, Megumi. You’ve been pushing yourself.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have,” he admitted. “It’s just… it’s easier, you know? To bury myself in work rather than deal with what’s going on in my head.”

There it was. The truth, just slipping out. His chest tightened again, the weight of everything catching up to him. You watched him with soft eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited, patiently, for him to continue.

“I think…” He hesitated, unsure of how to say it, unsure if he even had the right to say it now. But his heart was screaming at him to be honest, to be real with you. “I think I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of how I feel about you. I never said it before… but I think I’ve always loved you, even when I couldn’t show it.”

Your eyes softened, your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. Megumi could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the silence stretched on.

“I’ve always loved you, you know?” he repeated, the words stronger this time. “And… I know it’s late. I know it’s probably too late, but I want you to know. I want you to know that I needed you. That I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. Whatever time I can get.”

His voice faltered as the confession hung in the air, and the weight of it felt almost unbearable. But then, slowly, you reached across the table, your hand gently landing on his.

“I never stopped loving you either, Megumi. I hope you know that.” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”

The words hit him like a wave, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could breathe again. Like everything wasn’t falling apart. Maybe, just maybe, the time that was slipping away didn’t matter as long as he could be with you in these final months, these final moments. He looked at you, the warmth of your hand in his, and a fragile smile tugged at his lips.

“Then let’s make the most of it.” he whispered. “Even if we start out again and be friends first. I’d love to make the most of it.”

You smiled at him warmly in response. “I’d like that too.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t have the time he wanted. But in that moment, as you sat across from him, the love of his life, he felt at peace.

And perhaps, maybe, just maybe – that was enough.

Maybe, this was all he needed in life.

His life was going to be defined by loving you.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

BEING SENTIMENTAL, IT WASN’T WHAT HE WAS GOOD AT. He knew too well what this will be in the end. He knew that it was going to hurt you both, that it was going to hurt him most. It wasn’t the best idea, you knew that.

Letting Fushiguro Megumi back into your life after everything that had happened, after all the years apart—it wasn’t exactly the most rational choice. You’d spent so long building your own life, carving out your space in the world, and now, just as you’d begun to find your rhythm again, life threw you a curveball you never saw coming.

The diagnosis.

Dementia. A rare form. And to make matters worse, it was hitting you far too early before you’d even reached thirty-five. The doctors had explained it all in somber tones, but the truth was, none of it really sunk in at first.

It was a shock, a blow you weren’t sure how to handle. The thought that, in just a few years, you might forget everything, the art you created, the people you loved, the moments that had shaped your life, was downright terrifying.

And yet, here you were, staring at your phone screen with Megumi’s name blinking back at you. He’d reached out. You hadn’t heard from him in so long. The last time you saw him, things were… complicated. So many years spent apart, so many unspoken words, and yet, when you saw his name, your heart skipped a beat.

You thought it might have been fate. Or maybe just a desperate wish. The idea that you had a shot at all was one in a million. In this small window of time, before it all slipped away— to make some memories. To live whatever life you could, before the inevitable began to take hold. You wondered how that could be.

So you called him back. And when he answered, the voice on the other end was familiar and steady, just like you remembered.

“You really want to see me?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. “It’s been a while.”

You smiled softly, your fingers curling around the phone. “I do. I want to see you, Megumi. I need to. I—” You paused, unsure how to explain it. How could you? “I just want to make some memories.”

There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, his tone was gentler. “Okay. Let’s make some memories then. How about we go to the aquarium? I know it’s random, but… I thought it might be fun.”

You felt a small laugh escape your lips at the thought of it. Megumi…Your Megumi. He was always so serious, always so reserved, ever so practical — but somehow, a trip to the aquarium seemed like just the thing you needed.

He was keeping you afloat, keeping you alive, wanting to do things. Wanting to make life interesting, even with that orderly fashion of his. It makes you warm inside. It always has. It always will.

“That sounds perfect.” you said, the words coming out easily, almost relieved.

And so, there you were, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium, waiting for him. Your heart was a little heavier than before, the weight of the diagnosis still there in the back of your mind. But in this moment, with Megumi on his way, you felt something else: a little spark of hope. A little spark of life.

You caught sight of him as he rounded the corner, looking just as you remembered, though maybe a little older, a little worn around the edges. His eyes were still the same, dark and intense, but there was something softer about him now, something that made your heart ache.

“Hey,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “Long time no see.”

You smiled back, the weight of the years between you almost forgotten. "Yeah. It’s been too long."

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a little too long, as though he could tell something was different. You didn’t have to say it out loud. He could read you like a book. He always has. You don’t think he’ll stop now. You hope he wouldn’t. You smiled at him.

“I’m glad you called.” he said softly, as if unsure of how to proceed, but that familiar warmth in his voice was still there. It had never really gone away, had it?

"Me too." you replied, and for the first time in a long while, you meant it. "I needed this."

Megumi nodded, and the two of you walked into the aquarium together, the world around you a blur of soft lights and flowing water. The sound of distant laughter and the rhythmic swoosh of fish in tanks filled the air, but all you could hear was his voice, the way it brought comfort, the way it made you feel like maybe you weren’t alone in this after all.

You pointed out the exhibits as you wandered through the aquarium, asking him what he thought of the colorful fish or the playful otters, though truthfully, your mind wasn’t always on the sea creatures. You couldn’t help but glance at him, at the way he reacted to everything, his quiet smile, his dry humor. It felt so familiar. So right.

“Remember when we came here when we were younger?” you asked, your voice soft. “We didn’t know anything about what we were doing, just wandered around aimlessly.”

Megumi chuckled, though it sounded bittersweet. “I think I spent most of the time trying to keep you from getting too close to the sharks.”

You laughed, the sound light and free, just like it used to be when you were younger. "You always were protective."

He didn’t respond to that, but the way he looked at you said it all. You both knew. You both remembered the connection you had once shared. And now, as you stood together, surrounded by glass tanks and exotic sea life, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as broken as they seemed.

Megumi turned to you after a while, his blue – green eyes searching yours, as though considering whether to say something, something important. Sometimes Megumi gets like this.

He tries to do well when figuring out what to say, how to say them. To avoid misunderstanding. To be clear. And yet in that moment, he seemed like he already had those words. But he doesn’t want to bring it up. At least not yet.

“Do you… do you remember what you used to tell me?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “When we were kids, you said you wanted to live life fully. You didn’t want to waste a single second.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. It took a moment for you to recall those words, but when you did, a small laugh escaped your lips. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“You still want that, right?” Megumi’s gaze was steady, unwavering.

You paused, your heart skipping a beat. There was no need to speak the truth aloud—it was clear. Even with everything you had to face, you still wanted to live, even if it was just a little longer, even if it meant creating new memories, even if it was messy and imperfect.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”

And with that simple admission, Megumi smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, a little brighter than before. He didn’t ask you what was coming next, or how much time you had left, or any of the things you had to worry about in the back of your mind. He just stood there, by your side, ready to make the most of the time you had left.

And in that moment, you realized something else too—maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let him back in, but it felt like fate. Fate had given you a chance, and you weren’t going to waste it.

Not now. Not ever again.

As you and Megumi wandered through the aquarium, the world outside seemed to fade away. There was something peaceful about the soft glow of the tanks, the gentle movement of the sea creatures, and the quiet way you and Megumi existed in each other’s space. The sounds of the outside world, the murmur of people and the occasional squeal of children, felt far away, like they were part of a distant dream.

Megumi leaned closer to one of the tanks, his eyes following the delicate movements of a seahorse. You caught yourself watching him more than you watched the creatures inside the glass, his expression thoughtful, like he was lost in the quiet beauty of it all. 

His features softened in a way that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t just his looks, though—it was the way he was. The way he had always been there for you, even when life pulls you in different directions. Everything about him makes you orbit around him, like he was your earth and you were his moon. He kept you balanced. And you like it. You always have.

“Hey, Megumi.” you said, nudging him lightly. “You’ve gone quiet. Do you still hate fish?”

He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in that familiar, teasing way. “Not the fish, just... I can’t believe you’ve dragged me here, of all places.” But his words held no real malice. There was warmth there, a soft playfulness that made you smile.

“Admit it already.” you teased him. “You like it. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Megumi snorted, and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe I do. But don’t go getting any ideas. I’m not a seafood enthusiast yet."

You grinned, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll take what I can get.”

You both wandered deeper into the exhibit, laughing at the odd little creatures, pointing out your favorites, and making light-hearted jokes. At one point, you found yourselves standing before a tank of jellyfish, their long, flowing tentacles creating a mesmerizing dance in the water. You both watched in silence, the gentle sway of the jellyfish almost hypnotic.

“This is kind of like us, isn’t it?” you asked, turning to Megumi, your voice quieter now. “Just... floating along, not really knowing where we’re going, but just kind of going with it?”

Megumi looked over at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Maybe it is.” he murmured, his voice soft and a little more serious than usual. “But, you know, I don’t mind floating along with you.”

You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand wrapped around yours almost instinctively, and in that moment, it felt so right. So simple. So perfect.

"You're really good at this." you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "At making things feel easy."

Megumi’s fingers tightened around yours, and he turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I think you’ve always made it easy, you know?” he said quietly.

You both stood there for a while, hand in hand, watching the jellyfish move. Time seemed to slow down as you both took in the moment, each of you content in the other’s presence. The world around you felt like it had paused, just for a little while, just for the two of you to exist together.

As the day began to wind down and the aquarium started to empty out, Megumi pulled you closer, his arm lightly draped around your shoulder, a natural, easy gesture.

You leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, his presence, the way he made you feel like everything would be okay. You knew it was, even when you weren’t sure about anything. As long as you have Fushiguro Megumi, life will turn out alright. It always has. It always will.

“Thanks for today, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice full of meaning. "I needed this."

Megumi glanced down at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad. I needed it too.”

As you made your way to the exit, you felt lighter. The weight of your diagnosis, the fear of what was to come, was still there in the back of your mind—but in this moment, with Megumi by your side, everything else seemed distant. The future, no matter how uncertain, didn’t feel so scary anymore.

You both stepped out into the evening air, the cool breeze brushing past your faces. The city lights were just beginning to flicker on in the distance, and the streets felt full of life.

You glanced over at Megumi, his expression soft, content. The night was still young, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were living in the moment, not worrying about what was to come.

“You know……” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe we should do this again sometime.”

Megumi raised an eyebrow. “What, go to an aquarium?”

You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Why not? You never know, next time we might get to see the dolphins.”

He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. “You and your love for sea animals,” he teased.

“I’m serious!” you said with a laugh. “But next time, maybe you’ll actually like it more.”

“Maybe,” he said with a chuckle. "Just maybe."

As you walked side by side, the cool evening air wrapping around you, your thoughts wandered again to the future, the future that was becoming a little more uncertain with each passing day. But then you looked at Megumi again, at the soft smile on his face, and for a moment, it didn’t matter. For now, everything was perfect.

And in that perfect moment, you realized: this—him—was what you wanted. Not just tonight, not just this moment, but forever. Or at least, as long as you could have it. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but in this instant, you were going to savor every second of it.

You glanced up at Megumi, squeezing his hand gently as you whispered, “I want this to last forever.”

Megumi squeezed your hand back, his voice steady and warm. “I do too.”

But you knew, you knew too well, as he did.

Nothing on this earth was bound to last forever.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

HE DIDN’T EXPECT HOW THIS WAS GOING TO END. But then again, you too didn’t expect it. Everything was unpredictable. But he expected this to happen. Even if he didn’t want it to. That was just his fate. The pain had been creeping up on him more and more, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that his time was running out. 

Every movement, every step, felt like a battle. His body wasn’t his own anymore, and no matter how much he tried to push through it, the heaviness of his condition weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Everything was miserable, and he hated it. He hated how this was happening.

But there was something, someone, that made it all seem bearable. You. The thought of you kept him going, even when his body felt like it was betraying him. At the time when everything was starting to know its place, to fit perfectly. Right time, right place, right person. And yet, this had come to pass. He was sick. Beyond fixing. 

Yet Megumi was certain that he was going to fight it. For as long as he can still do it. For as long as he had the strength to. He still wanted more time with you. More chances to make up for those five years. But he knew that it was getting harder. He didn’t want you to see how bad it was getting. 

Sometimes he can’t even move himself. Sometimes he felt like he was going to throw up everything he ate. Sometimes he feels like he was going to pass out. But he doesn’t want to give up just yet.

He can’t. It wasn’t time, not just yet. He still needs to live. No matter how painful it all gets. He wants to live. He wasn’t giving up. Not when he still wanted to be there for you. Not when he still wanted to make you smile.

And he wanted to prove that. He always wants to prove that. That he was strong enough. That he can still stay here. That he can still take care of you. Tonight was one of those nights. It was already late when he got your call. But he didn’t care about the time. He had to go there for you. 

He rushed out with his meager winter coat and rushed over there. The sound of your voice was filled with frustration and a little bit of panic, and that was enough to get him moving immediately. It kept ringing in his head, the tone of your voice. He doesn’t think he had ever heard that voice from you before. 

All the way there, he thought more about your frustration and your panic more than his own pain. He didn’t even think about how exhausted he was or how much his body ached. You were what mattered to him at this moment. Nothing else. You mattered more to him. He was always going to put your first, especially now. 

When he arrived at your apartment, he found you standing by the door, frowning and rifling through your bag. Your face lit up with a mix of relief and embarrassment when you saw him. He took a moment to breathe before greeting you. 

“Megumi, I’m so sorry.” you said, wiping a hand over your face. “I can’t find my keys. I’ve looked everywhere. I—I think I’ve lost them.”

The distress in your voice was enough to make his heart tighten. He immediately stepped toward you, trying to hide the wince that flickered across his face as he reached for the door handle. 

“It’s okay, hm?” he said softly, his voice steady, even if the pain inside was threatening to make it crack. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”

He tried to ignore the way his legs ached as he crouched down to check the bottom of the doormat, his hand shaking slightly as he pushed it aside, looking for any sign of the missing keys. You stood beside him, still fretting, your hands wringing together.

“I’m sorry, Megumi. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” you murmured, your voice trembling.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stood up again. “You’re not a burden. You never have been.” He reached out, gently wiping the tears that had started to fall down your cheek. "I’m happy to help."

I’m happy to be needed. He thinks to himself, looking at you. I’m happy to be wanted by you.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing from the warmth of his touch. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm and collected when you felt like you were falling apart. But then again, it was just like him to make sure you were okay, even if it meant putting aside his own pain.

“I’m so sorry, again.” you said again, this time more softly. “I shouldn’t have let this get to me.”

Megumi just shook his head. “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our moments. It’s normal to get frustrated. I’ll help you find them, I promise.”

He glanced around for a moment, and then his gaze softened as he met your eyes. For a brief second, the weight of his own pain seemed to vanish, replaced by the quiet, soothing comfort of being close to you. The way you looked at him like he was the one thing that made sense in the chaos made everything feel a little easier.

“Let’s check inside your bag again.” he suggested gently. He took the bag from you, unzipping it with a practiced hand. As he rummaged through it, you watched him carefully, your anxiety easing just a little from the reassurance in his tone.

And then, as if by magic, he pulled out the keys from the deepest pocket of your bag. He held them up with a small, triumphant smile.

“Found them, dummy.” he said, and the relief in his voice made your heart swell.

You let out a shaky laugh, tears still lingering in your eyes, but a smile now tugging at your lips. “I’m so hopeless sometimes.”

Megumi’s smile widened, his eyes softening. “Don’t say that. You’re not hopeless. You just had a moment.”

His hand brushed against yours as he handed you the keys, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. Just you, him, the simple act of being together in the quiet, unspoken moments.

You met his gaze, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Thank you, Megumi. For everything.”

His bright blue–green orbs could only soften even more, and for the briefest moment, you could see the quiet ache in them, but it wasn’t pain. No, it was something else, something deeper. Something more beautiful, something more true. Everything about him felt so genuine. More than ever before.

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy I’m here with you.”

And for that moment, in that small, shared space, it felt like nothing else mattered. The world outside could have been crumbling, but in his presence, you felt a quiet sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.

Megumi gave you one last, reassuring smile, wiping away the last of your tears, and then offered his arm to you as he moved to open the door for you. You stepped inside, the cool air of the apartment a small comfort after the small storm of emotions. Megumi was right. Everything would be fine. 

At least, for now, it was. You could forget about the worries of tomorrow and just be in the moment. As he followed you inside, a part of you couldn’t help but think how much longer you wanted this moment by your side. How you wished you could hold onto these moments forever.

The evening had grown colder, but the light snowfall made everything feel magical, like a scene out of a dream. You and Megumi had just finished your little excursion to find the perfect hotpot place, and as you sat at a cozy table by the window, the snowflakes drifted lazily outside. 

The warmth of the restaurant was a nice contrast to the chilly air, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Everything about tonight was what would make winter feel the want to enjoy being alive, being warm in the cold breeze of its existence.

You pulled your phone from your bag, feeling the impulse to capture the moment. You glanced up at Megumi, who was poking at his bowl, looking surprisingly content for someone who usually seemed to prefer avoiding anything too flashy. 

His serious demeanor had softened, and his usual guarded expression was replaced with a rare sense of comfort. With a smile, you snapped a quick picture of him. Megumi looked up, startled by the sound of your camera clicking.

“Hey, no pictures, you dummy.” he protested, though his tone wasn’t harsh. He reached for the camera, but you pulled it away quickly, holding it to your chest with a grin.

“Why not? You look cute, you know?” you teased, winking playfully at him.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You always say that. Why do you take so many pictures anyway?”

You leaned back in your seat, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess… I just want to remember things. The little moments that matter. You never know when they’ll be gone, so I figure I should capture the ones that make me happy.”

Megumi’s eyes softened, and he gave a quiet nod, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad you do that. You’ve always had a way of making ordinary moments feel... special.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad you’re here to make them feel special too.”

The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, filled with small chatter and the occasional clink of chopsticks. You felt more at ease than you had in a long time, the weight of the world outside the restaurant seemingly lifted.

Once dinner was over, you both left the warm comfort of the restaurant, stepping into the crisp winter night. The air was fresh and sharp, and the snow had started to fall heavier, painting the streets in a blanket of white. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at the sky, the snowflakes drifting down like confetti.

You walked ahead a few steps, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, when you suddenly realized that Megumi wasn’t next to you. Turning around, you saw him standing still, almost frozen in place, his posture slumped in an uncharacteristic way. You paused, confused, until you saw him sway slightly before collapsing onto the snow-covered pavement with a soft thud.

Your heart stopped.

“Megumi!” You rushed over to him in a panic, your breath catching in your throat as you knelt beside him. His face was pale, and his body was limp in the snow, the cold seeping through his clothes.

You gently shook his shoulder, your voice shaking as you called his name again. “Megumi! Hey, wake up, please…”

His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t stir. You were beyond scared now. His condition had been worsening for a while, but seeing him like this made your entire world feel like it was crashing down around you. You could feel your heart beating, faster than it ever has. You had never felt such fright in your entire life.

“Megumi, stay with me, please. Please, oh my god—someone help! Please!” you say, your voice breaking as you hovered over him, panic rising in your chest. 

You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Warm tears were starting to fall from your eyes, contrasting the cold. Everything about this moment felt like you were losing to fate.

You hated this feeling. You hated this helplessness. You hated the thought of losing the love of your life. Everything about this was cruel. And that had just made you cry even more. 

You take a breath, calming yourself, as you quickly pull your phone from your pocket, dialing the emergency number, your hands trembling as you explained the situation to the operator.

You try to check on him, trying to get him to wake up. Tears still pouring endlessly, like raindrops in the winter hale. The minutes stretched on, every second feeling like an eternity.

Megumi stirred slightly, his eyes opening just enough for him to give you a half-smile, his voice weak but still trying to reassure you, even though he clearly wasn’t fully conscious. You gasped, trying to explain to the operator that he woke up. But he immediately cuts you off, his hand on your own. He weakly squeezes it.

“Don’t... don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the cold air. “I’m... fine.”

You shook your head, your tears threatening to spill as you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “No, you’re not! You’re not fine, Megumi. You’re really not fine.”

“Hey, you…you dummy.” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You... should smile. You... should still... take pictures.”

You shook your head again, laughing through the tears that had started to fall. “I don’t care about pictures, Megumi. I just care about you.”

His eyes fluttered closed again, but he seemed comforted by your words, the faintest hint of a smile still on his lips. You kept holding his hand, never letting go, until the sound of the ambulance arrived in the distance. You didn’t want to, you never wanted to leave. Not him. But you could only pray that he’s just as resolved not to leave you too.

After all, how could you live without him?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

YOU HATED THE SMELL OF HOSPITALS. You don’t like the smell of death, the smell of grief. The smell of suffering all at once gathered through the halls. You were aware just as much that Megumi doesn’t like hospitals either. He’d always hated it as much as you. Even just doing check–ups made him upset. But there was no other choice. He has to live.

This was the only way to keep him alive. This was the only way he wouldn’t leave you. You'd rather he spend the rest of his life hating the smell of this one moment than let him die. You'd do anything to have him for what time is left.

The cold hospital lights buzzed above you as you sat next to Megumi’s bed, your fingers clutching his hand so tightly it almost hurt. His body was hooked up to various machines, the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound that filled the sterile room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sight of him lying there, pale and fragile, making your chest tighten with every passing second.

The ambulance ride had been a blur of frantic moments, the flashing lights reflecting off the cold pavement as you gripped Megumi’s hand, trying to keep him awake, trying to keep him here with you. But he slipped in and out of consciousness, each time his body growing weaker, his breath shallower.

When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors didn’t waste any time. They immediately ran tests and checked his vitals, and within what felt like an eternity, they informed you of the worst news you could have imagined.

You felt like you were going to lose it when you finally heard all of it in detail. You didn’t want to hear more of it. But you had no choice. You needed to know. You needed to know so you could understand. 

Fushiguro Megumi had been battling a terminal illness, something that had been eating away at him for months, maybe even longer and he had never told you. They told you about his rare, degenerative condition, how it had been causing him excruciating pain, and how little time he had left. 

You didn’t even know how to process it. There was no true way to process it. He was dying. And you just got him back. You were going to lose him, just when you had him back. And that made you feel like you were dying too. Because how? How does one not go mad with it already? 

You wanted to scream, to yell at the world for being so unfair. But instead, you sat there, numb, tears streaming down your face, your hands trembling as you held onto Megumi like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Why didn’t he tell you? Why had he tried to carry all of this on his own?

And yet, there was a part of you that knew exactly why. It was just like him. Megumi, ever the stoic, ever the quiet one, always putting others before himself, always bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever asking for help.

The sound of his voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was weak at first, a soft murmur, but it was unmistakable.

“Hey… stop crying…..you dummy.”

You froze, looking down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar dark eyes you had always loved. They were dull now, tired, but there was still that softness in them. That quiet strength that had always drawn you to him.

You shook your head, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Megumi, please, I—I can’t…” Your voice cracked as the words caught in your throat. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

His hand weakly squeezed yours, his grip not as strong as it used to be, but the touch still sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He shifted slightly in the bed, his brows furrowing as if trying to find the strength to sit up, but his body betrayed him, and he sank back into the pillow, wincing in pain.

“Don’t cry over me. Enough.” he whispered, his voice low and strained. “I’m... I’m not worth it.”

You let out a small sob, your head dropping to the edge of his bed as you tried to compose yourself, though the tears kept coming. “Megumi, you are. You are worth it. You always have been.”

He turned his head slightly toward you, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion, but there was something softer there, something almost apologetic. You hated that look on his face. Because there was nothing to apologize about. Not even once. All you wanted to do was take care of him. All you wanted to do was keep him safe.

“I’ve been so... selfish, haven’t I?” His voice was barely audible, the words coming out in a rasp, but you heard them clearly. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to burden you with this...”

“You never burdened me, Megumi. You should know that.” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his. “You never were a burden. I would’ve done anything for you...”

He let out a quiet sigh, the corners of his lips twitching up in the faintest smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart ache even more. He looked so resigned to his fate, to all of this pain. And you didn’t like it. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be content. Not when you just got back together.

“I know, I know.” he murmured, his voice so weak now that it was almost lost in the hum of the machines around you. “I know you would’ve.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but it was difficult with the weight of everything pressing down on you. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore, Megumi.” you whispered, the words barely escaping. “It’s okay to let me help you. Please don’t push me away. I can’t lose you like this.”

His eyes closed again, and for a moment, you thought he might have fallen asleep again, but his voice broke through the silence, softer now, as if he were speaking to himself as much as to you. It was such a low voice, so weary and exhausted. You didn’t like seeing him like this. So beaten by something he can’t control.

“Maybe... maybe I should’ve let you in sooner. I was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I told you everything.”

You gently cupped his face with your hand, wiping away the tears that still fell freely. “You don’t have to apologize for any of it. I just wish I’d known. I wish I could’ve helped sooner.”

Megumi’s lips parted, but his breath hitched in a shallow cough before he could say anything more. His hand gripped yours again, and this time, he managed a little more pressure, just enough to make you feel the sincerity in his touch.

“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” he whispered softly. “I don’t have much time left... but I’m glad I have you now.”

Your heart shattered at those words, but at the same time, you held onto them, clinging to the fragile thread of time that remained between you. You leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, your heart aching with the knowledge that you didn’t know how much time you had left with him, but you were going to make the most of every precious second.

“I’m here, Megumi. Always.” you whispered. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Days blended together as the winter months stretched on. The world outside seemed to freeze, as if mirroring the heaviness in your heart. Snowflakes continued to fall softly outside the hospital windows, blanketing the world in quiet white, but inside, it felt like the world was slowly slipping away.

You didn’t let yourself dwell on the inevitable. You couldn’t. Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw the man you loved, the man who had always been there for you, even when you hadn’t known you needed him. You stayed by his side every day, holding his hand, speaking to him, telling him about everything you hoped for. 

About how the world was still turning outside, how you wanted to keep making memories, even if it felt impossible. You even began taking photos again. Photos of him. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but you were going to capture every moment, every smile, every soft word between you.

It wasn’t easy. Some days, you couldn’t remember where you’d put your keys, or where your phone was. Little things, fading memories, were slipping through your grasp, like water running through your fingers. But what stayed, what never faded—was how deeply you loved him. How every moment you shared with Megumi had become a treasure in your heart.

It was late one afternoon, the sky already darkening as the cold winds howled outside, when you sat next to him again in his hospital room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was almost rhythmic now, and the other sounds of the machines had become a steady background hum.

You watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling with the shallow breath of someone who had fought so long to stay with you. You had asked the doctors, of course, but they had never promised anything. They always do that. They say, they can only do their best. Promises are the hardest, especially when it comes to people’s lives. 

You ran your fingers over his hand, brushing against the cool skin that had once been warm, but you didn’t mind. It was still him. Still the Megumi you knew, the Megumi you had spent years beside, growing together, building a life together. Even if that life had been cut short, you would never stop cherishing it.

You whispered softly to him, hoping he could hear, even as he drifted in and out of sleep. “Megumi... I love you. And I’m never going to forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember you.”

For a long while, there was silence—just the sound of the wind outside and the soft hum of the hospital machines. You thought about the future, or rather, the lack of one that you’d once planned.

The future you had dreamed of with him, one where you could grow old together, laughing at silly jokes, holding hands as you walked through life. But the truth of the situation lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.

And then, just as you were about to close your eyes for a moment’s rest, Megumi’s voice broke the stillness, faint and barely audible.

“Hey...” he said, his voice raspy, but full of that familiar warmth.

You sat up straight, your eyes immediately focusing on him. He was awake, just barely, his eyes blinking slowly in the dim light. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. He looked so exhausted.

As though he doesn’t have any energy left to live. You hated that, you hated that smile too. You can’t help it. It made you aware how fragile everything is. How fragile life is. How you were far too near to losing him. 

“You... you’re awake?” you whispered, leaning closer, your heart pounding with hope.

He nodded slightly, though the movement seemed to take a lot of effort. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m... sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” you said, a smile slipping onto your face, even though your eyes were still damp. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Megumi. I’m just... glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re with me.”

His eyes softened as he looked up at you, his lips parting slightly as he struggled for the words. “I’ve always... wanted you to be happy. Even now, I... I want you to be happy.”

Your heart clenched, and you leaned down, your forehead resting gently against his. “I am happy. Because I’m with you. I have been, and I always will be.”

Megumi smiled again, his hand weakly squeezing yours. His smile was small, but it meant everything to you. The most precious thing in the world. You would carry that smile with you, even if the days grew darker, even if the cold winds of winter began to steal more from you.

In that moment, you made a promise to him in your heart. You promised that, no matter what, you would keep loving him. Even if you forgot everything else, you would never forget the love you shared. You would never forget him.

The room felt colder than it ever had before, despite the soft hum of the heaters and the warmth of the blankets wrapped around Megumi. You sat there beside him, holding his hand, feeling his pulse slowly fading.

The soft beeping of the heart monitor had become slower, more erratic. Your eyes were fixed on him, waiting, hoping for some miracle that you knew would never come.

The doctors had already said it to you, clearly. His time was up. There were no more treatments, no more hopes left to cling to. The harsh reality of it all was suffocating, but you didn’t want to let go. You couldn’t. Not when he had been your everything for so long.

You leaned down closer to him, brushing his bangs out of his face, memorizing the way his features were so familiar, the way his eyes had always held that quiet strength. You whispered to him softly, your voice shaky, as tears slid down your cheeks. 

"Megumi... please, please stay with me. I love you so much."

His breath was shallow now, ragged. But he turned his head toward you ever so slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes still holding a glimmer of something.

Even in the face of his end, there was a calmness in him, a peace that you couldn’t quite grasp. And you wondered, not for the first time, if he had known all along that this was the way things would end.

He barely opened his mouth, but his voice was soft and full of the kind of warmth that you’d come to treasure, the kind of warmth that had always been his, even when he was hurting.

"I'm glad that you were my final view, you dummy…..my love." he said, his voice so quiet, so weak, but full of meaning. "I'm glad that you were my beginning... and my end."

Your heart shattered at the words, but you swallowed back your sobs, trying to stay strong for him. He had always been strong for you, even when he didn’t have to be. And now, it was your turn to be strong for him.

"I love you, so so much." he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying more weight than anything else he could have said. His hand tightened around yours, just for a moment, but it was enough to make your heart soar and break all at once.

You pressed your forehead to his, your tears falling freely now, each drop a painful reminder that time had run out. You wanted to cry out loud. You wanted him to wake up. You wanted him to come back. But you know he won't. He won't ever come back.

"I love you." you whispered back, over and over again, as if saying it would somehow make the pain of losing him easier. "I love you... I love you... I love you."

But there was no answer. No more words. His chest rose and fell one last time, and then it stilled. The beep of the heart monitor flatlines, and with it, the world around you seems to collapse in on itself.

He was gone.

You stayed there, for what felt like an eternity, unable to tear yourself away from his side. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of his hand, even though you knew he was no longer there to hold it. The warmth of his skin was already starting to fade, but you still clung to it, as though holding on to him would keep him with you forever.

The quiet in the room was deafening, a silence so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming sorrow that threatened to drown you. But in the quiet, you could still hear his voice, still feel the warmth of his love in your chest.

I love you, he had said. And that was all that mattered now. That was all you could hold onto.

The nurses came in, gently moving you aside, but you didn’t care. They tried to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but nothing would ever be okay again. You had lost the person you loved most in the world, and no one could take that pain away.

Hours passed. Or was it days? You couldn’t remember anymore. The world outside continued to turn, the snow continuing to fall, but all you could think about was him. Megumi. Your Megumi.

The man you loved with every part of you. The man who had been your best friend, your lover, your everything. And now he was gone, and you were left with nothing but the aching emptiness of his absence.

You didn’t leave the hospital that night. You stayed there, next to him, holding his hand, telling him you loved him over and over. You didn’t know if he could hear you. You didn’t know if it mattered.

You just needed him to know. He had been the love of your life, and you would carry that love with you forever. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you’d forget, you would never forget him.

The days that followed were a blur of sadness and quiet moments of reflection. The funeral. The family. The friends who came and went, offering their condolences, their words of sympathy. But none of it mattered. Not without him.

Winter gave way to spring, the snow melting and the world coming back to life, but you felt like you were still stuck in the cold. The world had moved on, but you were stuck in that one moment, in that one room, with Megumi.

It was as if time had frozen the moment he left, and you couldn’t break free from it.

But still, you held on to him. You held on to the love he had given you, the smile he had worn for you, and the life you had shared together. Because that was all you had left.

And no matter how much the world tried to take it away from you, you would never forget him.

You will never forget Megumi.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

SOME DAYS ARE EASIER THAN OTHERS, YOU NURSES THINK. But today was not one of those days. Somehow, the days seemed to slip away like water through your fingers, and the world around you grew hazier with each passing moment.

You didn’t know the date, the year, or even your own name anymore. Sometimes, when the nurses spoke to you, you’d hear their voices and understand their words, but the world beyond that seemed so far away.

But there was one thing you could never forget. No matter how much time passed or how much your memory faded, there was always him.

His face, his eyes. Those blue-green eyes that shone with a warmth that made your heart flutter even now. They felt so familiar and yet you couldn’t remember who they belonged to. Who this man was. And yet, you always felt at ease when you painted him. You always felt like life was beautiful, when he stared back at you.

It didn’t matter if you couldn’t remember all of it. How you’ll repeatedly ask what you did and who you met. Or what you were thinking about and or what you wanted to eat. That didn’t matter. All you knew was that whenever you had a brush in your hand, whenever you felt the quiet pull of the canvas, it was his face you painted. It was always him.

It had become a ritual of sorts. The nurses would often find you at the small desk in your room, your hands trembling as you carefully added strokes of color to the canvas. Sometimes it was a portrait.

Everyone could see his strong jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his lips curled into a gentle smile. Other times, it was an abstract piece, his image lost in swirls of color and light. But it was always him.

No one ever questioned it. The staff knew you were once a famous artist, known for your ability to capture the most subtle emotions in a single stroke. Perhaps that’s why they never seemed surprised to see you lost in your own world, creating pieces of art that you couldn’t fully understand anymore. 

But they saw the joy in your eyes when you painted him, and that was enough. It was more than enough. You were suffering already, in so many ways. What is letting you have some little joy in the things you painted? And so one afternoon, as you carefully placed another layer of paint on the canvas, one of the nurses peeked in. 

"How’s the painting today?" she asked softly, her voice kind.

You looked up, smiling at her, the brush still poised in your hand. "It’s him again." you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "His eyes… I remember his eyes."

She smiled at you, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You’ve been painting him every day, haven’t you?"

You nodded, not quite understanding why it felt so important to paint him. "He’s got the kindest eyes," you said with a quiet certainty. "The softest face."

She watched you for a moment, her expression filled with understanding. "He must have meant a lot to you."

You blinked, as if the question had never occurred to you. You couldn’t remember the details, couldn’t remember how he had come into your life or who he was, but the feeling that lingered when you thought about him, when you painted him—that you couldn’t deny. It was love. A deep, unshakable love that you could feel, even if you couldn’t understand it completely.

"Yes, I think so." you said, your voice is a little softer now. "He was special. He seems like it."

You looked down at the canvas, the figure of the man emerging once more from the swirls of paint. He had this way of looking at you, even in the paintings—this gentle warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, loved, and understood, even when the rest of the world seemed so distant.

There was peace in that. 

There was a quiet comfort.

The nurse gave a soft smile, nodding her head before quietly excusing herself. But you stayed, lost in your thoughts as your brush moved again, creating another piece of him. Another piece of your memory, even if it was the only one you had left.

It wasn’t about the name. It wasn’t about remembering the details of the past. It was about the feeling, the love that had lived between you two, that was what mattered. The man with the blue-green eyes, the man who had the kindest smile, was the one you could hold onto in your heart, even as everything else slipped away.

As you continued to paint, a small smile curled on your lips. He was with you. In every stroke, in every color, he was there. And as long as you could still remember that love, you would keep painting him.

No matter how many times the world around you faded, you would never forget him.

He had been the brightest part of your life, and even now, in the quiet of the care home, he was the only thing you still held close.

And that made everything a little easier.

[iluvzaddies]

meine liebe, mein leben

pairing: könig x wife!reader

warnings: pregnancy

summary: after spending months on the battlefield, könig comes home to find you with a swollen tummy.

könig couldn’t wait to get home to you, his beloved wife. his love, his life. he had been dying to see you, hold you, kiss you and make love to you again throughout the entirety of his mission.

he kept a polaroid of you in his pocket, in case he felt down or if he missed you. seeing your face always made his day better. and whilst he kept a polaroid of you, a heart-shaped locket with a tiny photo of him inside adorned your neck. it was old school and cute.

he was glad you were willing to stay by his side, despite knowing he was in the military and that he would always get deployed. he hated leaving you, but you reassured him about it, saying it was his job.

after what felt like a decade; staying in a town turned into a war zone, keeping civilians safe and protecting them from terrorists, he could finally go home.

on his way home, he felt giddy.

he didn’t notify you of the news because he wanted to surprise you. were you cooking or cleaning right now? should he surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist? he could imagine your reaction. you would scream at first, thinking it was an intruder, but when you realized it was just your dear husband, you would hug him so tight he could barely breathe.

he opened his and your house with a spare key. unlocking the door, he stepped in and was greeted with a great silence. you weren’t vacuuming the living room, you weren’t cooking in the kitchen, you weren’t eating something in the dining room. he felt slightly disappointed the surprise didn’t turn out like what he imagined in his head, but oh well, you were probably sleeping in the bedroom.

so he headed towards the bedroom and there you were, sleeping soundly on the king-sized bed.

he dropped his gear onto the ground, including his helmet and mask, slowly getting on the bed.

“i’m home.” he whispered into your ear, nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck.

you only hummed in response.

he chuckled.

“(y/n)… meine liebe… i’ve returned.”

you scrunched your face, eyes opening. you were met with the sight of your husband’s handsome face – which you had the privilege of seeing all the time – hovering above your own.

“könig?”

“ja, i’m here. i’m home.”

your eyes widened and you abruptly sat up.

“könig.” you repeated as if you couldn’t believe your eyes. you reached out to touch his cheek, moving your thumb up and down in a slow motion.

you missed him so much. so very much. every single day, you thought about him, if he was doing alright, when he would return, etcetera.

as tears began to well up in your eyes, könig, the ever so loving husband, began to worry and asked, “what’s the matter, meine liebe?”

“i’m just glad you’re home and safe.” you sniffled. “we wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

könig was confused.

“we?” he pointed out.

you nodded. you took his hand, guiding it to your belly, where your child resided.

“y–you’re pregnant?” his eyes looked like they were about to pop out and his jaw about to hit the floor.

“yes.”

“how…” he trailed off, staring at your evident baby bump.

“how far along am i? four months. that’s how long you’ve been gone.” you caressed your belly.

you were worried for a second, thinking he didn’t want a child, but your worries washed away when he pulled you in for a hug and a kiss.

“my baby is having a baby!” he exclaimed excitedly. “i’m gonna be a father!” he was overjoyed with happiness. never did he ever see himself marrying someone and having a baby with them, but look at him now. he was a husband and a father.

you sighed in relief. “i thought you were upset. i was worried for a sec.”

“worried? why?” he was taken aback by your words. he grabbed both of your hands, pulling them towards his face and placing a gentle peck on them. “this is the best moment of my life. i would never be upset about this. you’re my love, my life. meine liebe, mein leben.”

“you’re my love and life too.”

after saying that, you shared one last kiss before dozing off in each other’s arms.

[missaengg]

Falling for the Head of Onychinus

Day 8 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptations hosted by @xxsycamore Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Sylus x f!reader Tags: mdni, smut, some fluff, car sex, hand jobs, semi-public sex, penis in vagina sex, alternate universe, not edited in the slightest... Prompts: Sex in a Vehicle | “Look at you, you're taking it so well.” A/N: OMG THIS TURNED OUT WAY LONGER THAN I EXPECTED, BUT I JUUUUST MADE IT FOR DAY 8!! 🙃 ao3 link here.

God, it was wrong. It was so wrong. You knew it was wrong. He was the head of Onychinus, the biggest crime syndicate in the N109 Zone, and you were a Hunter, sworn to uphold the law and bring him to justice. And yet… despite knowing how fucked you would be if The Hunter’s Association knew, you would find yourself once again in his bed or in a changing room or in a dark, seedy back alley or in his car moaning without abandon, writhing on his taut, muscular body with him deep inside of you. Because fuck, his touch did something to you. One look of that animalistic lust in his crimson eyes, and you melted into a pool of fervent heat practically begging for him to devour you until you were exhausted and spent.

Each and every time after you dragged your sinfully brutalized body back home, you would vow that would be the last time. Never again. Your resolve only lasting until he came around the next time.

Or so it was, until you realized you hadn’t seen a glimpse, not even a hint, of the infuriatingly arrogant crime lord in weeks though it felt like months. He had this annoying stalkerish tendency, and when he wasn’t within your direct view, you swore you would catch a glimpse of silver hair or hear the fluttering of a crow’s wings or catch the tail end of a sport motorcycle zooming off around the corner.

Nothing.

For weeks, nothing. Not a single silvery wisp. Not a single caw. Not the rumble of his bike. Not even when you were in his territory, patrolling the N109 Zone.

It was unlike him, and you were perturbed.

You had gotten used to looking for hints of his presence, used to catching tiny signs of him in the peripherals of your eyes, and just when you were starting to get restless, he would appear before you, with his smug smirk and sexy nonchalance, leaving you weak in the knees and shivering.

You checked the date on your phone, frowning once you calculated how long it’d actually been since you last saw the man, Sylus, how long it’d been since he had you bent over a grimy sink in the bathroom of a dingy club he found you in for Tara’s birthday, pushing your head against the foggy mirror and furiously thrusting into your mewling, sopping cunt.

One month. It had been one month and ten days since you last saw him, the longest it had been since he discovered you in the N109 Zone hunting him.

It occurred to you that you might actually miss him, or rather your body missed his delicious touch. After his absence, in the first week, you noticed a peculiar restlessness, a light stirring deep within your lower belly, a flutter of anxiety. In the second week, you felt a disconcerting thirst, a thirst that couldn’t be satiated no matter how many times you stroked yourself or slipped a few fingers inside. In the third week, you developed an aching throb between your legs, painful and distracting and only in want of release. In the fourth week, you found yourself occupied with thoughts of only one man, Sylus, dreaming about coming undone around his thick cock and waking up to a damp mess underneath. All to where you were now, feral and in heat, perpetually dripping, desperate for him to relieve you of this consuming obsession.

He was your addiction. And you were in withdrawal, frantically seeking your fix.

“Fucking bastard,” you huffed to yourself, still staring at your phone in the middle of sidewalk by a busy street within Linkon. “Stupid fucking bastard.”

“Who’s a stupid fucking bastard?”

You recognized that deep, silky voice. You’d recognize that deep, silky voice anywhere. You looked up from your phone to see Sylus lounging in an aggressive sports car, a Lamborghini Revuelto, stupidly expensive and powerful and luxurious and just like him.

“I thought I told you not to come around again,” you scowled, crossing your arms, hiding that you were in fact ecstatic he finally showed.

“That’s not what your body’s telling me, kitten,” Sylus smirked, his smug gaze salaciously trailing from your face to your thighs.

You looked down, cursing under breath at how firmly your thighs were clenched together. When did that happen? But good god, was that voice doing things to you. A blistering inferno was raging in your core threatening to overwhelm you in its desire to consume you whole. You could only hope your cheeks weren’t the same blazing furious shade of red as your needy cunt.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mmhmm.”

You stared at him defiantly, arms crossed, chin raised, waiting to see who would buckle first because it wouldn’t be you. It couldn’t be you.

“Are you going to get in the car or not?”

“No.”

“Are you sure about that?” he purred silkenly, a seductive mischievous gleam in his eyes, as if he were confident that you would ultimately end up in his bed that night.

No, you weren’t sure about that. You weren’t sure about that at all. You swallowed thickly, knowing it was over the moment he trapped you with those damn magnetic eyes. Your resolve was crumbling as quickly as he showed up in front of you wanting nothing more than to have him whisk you away and have his filthy, depraved way with you.

“I’m sure,” you hoarsely spit out, convincing no one, not even yourself.

Sylus said nothing. He simply sat there drumming his fingers on his leather steering wheel peering at you curiously with what appeared to be displeasure on his brow. You stubbornly stared back, feeling the seconds click away. A stalemate.

Finally, he clicked his tongue.. “Alright then, kitten. Another time then.” The car roared back to life.

You bit your lip, chewing on the soft flesh inside your lip. He couldn’t just leave, not like this, not after he disappeared for weeks leaving you a tight pretzel of a woman, but you also didn’t want to lose. Not again. The brake lights came on, a sign he’s shifted the car from ‘P’, and as he revved the engine–

“Wait!”

The revving stopped. Sylus, still facing forward, angled his head so he could peek at you.

“Why’d you disappear?”

Silence. You licked your lips and tried again.

“You were gone for over five weeks. Where were you?”

You watched Sylus with bated breath, heart pounding like a drum in your chest. His face betrayed nothing, not a hint of what he was feeling, what he was thinking.

Then a corner of his mouth curled up into a sly, cheeky smirk. There was a dark amusement dancing in his eyes, the force of which was rolling off of him in thick, heavy waves.

“Did you miss me?”

“No,” you whispered, more out of instinct, but also because you were loath to admit that you did miss him. You yearned for him more than you’d ever care to admit.

“Liar.”

Yes, you were.

“Get in the car, kitten.”

You hated it – and loved it – when he told you what to do, and he hated it – and loved it – when you refused to accede.

“Not… not until you tell me why you were gone for so long.”

Sylus huffed sharply. Your fists curled into fists, digging your fingernails into your palms in sharp mini lines of pain.

“I had to take care of business.”

“What kind of business?”

Sylus scowled, leveling his irritated glare on you. You forgot how intimidating the head of Onychinus could be, how ruthless the man who fucked you so tenderly could be.

“Nothing for you to be concerned about.”

“Sylus.”

A small, frustrated growl rumbled from Sylus who exhaled heavily, tapping the steering wheel with his pointer, and in an uncharacteristically subdued voice–

“I was injured, kitten.”

Something lurched in your heart when hearing his admission. Something about Sylus disappearing, about knowing he could potentially die on you someday unleashed an all-consuming fear you weren’t even aware you had. You blinked, surprised at the tears welling in your eyes, not enough to fall, but enough to display the dull ache that’s settled into your heart.

“Open the door.”

As soon as the door closed behind you, Sylus zoomed off in the direction of the illicit underground he called his home. You couldn’t keep your gaze off of him, scrutinizing his profile as if you were studying for an exam. He looked as he always did. There were no hints of scars or injuries. He wasn’t holding himself differently or hunched over in any kind of pain. Was it something mild if he recovered in five weeks?

“You should take a picture, kitten, it’ll last longer.”

Sylus still had that infuriating arrogant sneer on his face, but there was something a little more tender about the way he looked at you compared to the ravenous hunger from before. You looked out the window. It was dark and remote, one of the many abandoned roads on the way to the N109 Zone from Linkon City.

“Pull over,” you hoarsely commanded.

“Kitten?”

“Pull over,” you commanded once more forcefully.

Sylus wrinkled his brow in concern, but pulled the car off to the side, thankfully behind a grove of overgrown trees, not that it mattered. His car windows were tinted so dark no one would be able to see anything inside, especially at night.

“Turn off the engine.”

Sylus arched an eyebrow, but did as you asked without question. As soon as the car rumbled off, you were out of your seat, crawling into his lap the best you could despite the cramped interior, smashing your lips against him. Your tongue pressed urgently against him demanding entry, and when given, you wasted no time tasting him, exploring him with your tongue. Sylus hungrily pushed back, laying claim to your lips in a battle of dominating rapacious wills.

The seat fell back, and you squeaked as Sylus hauled you up like a ragdoll onto his lap. Once he had you settled and straddled across his hips, you dove back into fervently connecting your mouths in a dizzying torrent of kisses, losing yourself in the passionate flush of your bodies pressed together. His hands were in your hair, fingertips brushing your scalp as he threaded his fingers into knots, each brush a feverish tingle making its way down your spine and pooling into a slick arousal. Your fingers grasped blindly at his tailored, collared shirt, wrinkling the fabric with how hard you were gripping him. You wanted, no, needed him. You needed to feel the beating of his heart, the breath in his lungs, the warmth of his flesh. You needed to feel he was alive. You needed to fuck him.

Without separating, you began undoing the buttons of his shirt, fingers fumbling in your haste, the passion leaving your fingers clumsy and inept, struggling to pop the tiny plastic circles out of their buttonholes. You wondered if you should just rip the damn thing off of him, but then you had the fleeting thought that this shirt likely cost more than what you made in a single month.

“Let me.”

Sylus pulled his lips away and removed his hands from the tangled mess your hair had become, which you protested with a tiny whine, to do exactly what you considered, the heavy breathing filling the car interrupted by the clatter of flying buttons. Your eyes widened, the complete indifference of how easily he ruined his shirt spine-tingling arousing.

“Come here.”

Sylus guided you by the back of your head back down to meet him, this time capturing your lips with a softer, slower kiss, though it didn’t stay soft or slow for long, the intensity building back into a disorienting haze. His hands slipped under your sweater, leaving a trail of lingering fire as they roamed eventually finding their way to your breasts. You moaned into his mouth, his fingers pulling and pinching you sensitive. You ached for him, your slick arousal pooling in the apex of your legs. You ground yourself against the prominent erection in his pants, the friction of the fabric catching on his outline and dragging across your damp slit sending jolt after jolt of electricity up your back intensifying the pleasure you were drowning in.

“Fuck,” Sylus roughly grunted, the rocking of your hips against him chipping away at his composure.

Something inside of you snapped when Sylus grunted. You reached for his pants in a frenzy, undoing the button and yanking them down, whining when you couldn’t until Sylus lifted his hips up for you to free what you wanted, his throbbing cock. You abandoned your quest at pulling down his bottoms when you saw it spring free. Wrapping a hand around it, you thumbed the precum leaking out of his tip rubbing it on his frenulum, reveling in the sharp hiss he expelled at your teasing. You stroked him, slowly, sensually, gripping and releasing as you moved up and down.

“Kitten,” Sylus rasped, grasping your chin and planting a sloppy kiss. “Let me feel you.”

You kissed him back, nibbling along his bottom lip, absolutely tickled by the drunk, dazed look in his eyes, the way he was looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. Your chest was heaving, your breaths heavy with want. Hiking up your skirt, you pulled your underwear to the side, too impatient to contort yourself into a different position to pull them down. You rocked your slick pussy against his engorged cock, making sure your arousal coated him well, and it had to coat him well otherwise he wouldn’t be able to slide in due to his sheer size. Inhaling, you lowered yourself onto him, taking an inch of him at a time waiting to adjust to how deliciously he stretched you to your limits. Each inch sent Sylus groaning – shuddering, strangled groans, and when you finally bottomed out, the guttural grunt he uttered sent you keening, the combination of his pleasure mixed with your own sensation of being full having you see stars.

You moved gradually, gyrating against his pelvis, his pelvic mound stimulating your clit, his tip tapping your cervix just right. Sylus was gripping the sides of your hips, his large hands dwarfing your sides. His eyes were fixed on where you ended and he started, mesmerized by the way your cunt moved against him.

“Look at you, you’re taking it so well,” he breathed, voice thick with lust and desire.

He bit his lip, his eyes growing darker and darker with a savage glint. You’d seen that glint in his eyes before. It was always before he’d lose control, rutting into you as if he couldn’t get enough, when he’d let his carnal needs take over and claim you as his own.

“Fuck, kitten.”

He gripped you so tightly you let out a wanton cry, and you could only helplessly bounce on his lap when he took over, pummeling up into you fervidly, mewling cries falling off your lips as the sound of slapping skin filled the car. He was driving into you relentlessly, and your eyes were rolling into the back of your head, your mouth falling open into a sultry pout. He was driving into you so hard, you were sure your cervix was going to be bruised tomorrow morning, but you didn’t care, he was intoxicating. You were drunk off his cock, addicted to his cock, and no matter how many times he drilled into you, no matter how many times he brought you to climax, you knew you’d be back for another taste.

“Ngh… Sylus!”

You were close, so close. Your body was taut, every nerve on fire, the quiver of ecstasy building into a crescendo. Sylus nestled his head into your neck, licking and sucking on your tender skin, and then you reached the peak, shuddering uncontrollably, convulsing around him in a cacophony of dizzying bliss. You could barely see, riding the high of your climax while Sylus continued to rut into you rapidly, the feverish overstimulation rippling through you.

And then Sylus burst, his cock spasming in your warm pussy, flooding himself into you, spurts of his cum filling you with his warmth, all while calling your name in a throaty whisper in your ear.

Panting heavily, you slumped against his shoulder feeling his climax seeping out of you. He wrapped an arm around your waist, slick from sweat, and he planted soft kisses behind your ear, his other hand gently brushing back your hair, running his fingers through it to tame the mess he made.

You pushed off of him so that you were sitting upright, taking in every detail you could of his flushed, dazed face.

“Did you almost die?”

Sylus flinched, your question startling him out of his blissful reverie.

“Kitten, what do you mean?”

“When you said you got injured, did you almost die?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you asked the question, unsure if you were ready to hear the answer, heart pounding, brows knit together. Sylus gave you a lopsided grin, tenderly placing his hand on your cheek.

“No, kitten, I didn’t almost die.”

“Then why were you gone for weeks?”

You knew you sounded angry, but you weren’t angry, not really, or maybe you were a little. But more than that, you were worried. You were worried about the man you were supposed to be hunting, the man you weren’t ever supposed to fall for, the man who had the ability to derail your entire life in his hands.

“Because, kitten, I didn’t want you to worry.”

Your mouth dropped open. You expected a lot of things, but you didn’t expect that. Not that. Not that what you were sure was just animalistic fucking had turned into something else entirely, not just for you, but him as well. Not that the infamous head of Onychinus might actually care for you.

“That’s silly,” you muttered, a faint blush dusting your cheeks, averting your gaze from him.

“As silly as you worrying about me?” Sylus chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest and tantalizingly through you.

You pouted, because it was, this whole thing was silly. You were a Hunter for god’s sake. This was unprofessional and wrong and fucked up and yet so deliciously wonderful and sinfully good and thrilling.

“I hate you.”

“I like you too.”

You sighed, annoyed, but that didn’t stop you from leaning down and snuggling back into his chest hearing his heartbeat in your ear, the sound soothing your anxiety. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to let go in his embrace. There was a lot you had to think about, but tonight… tonight all you wanted was to be in his arms in his bed.

Tomorrow. You would think about everything else tomorrow.

[revelboo]

When You’re Around

IDW Soundwave x Reader- getting caught singing

• There it is again. That soft, haunting sound that freezes Soundwave in his tracks. Every time over the last week that he draws near to the source, it cuts off. The heavy sound of his peds alerting his quarry to his presence every, single time. He prided himself on his composure. Of being the one point of calm reasoning in the storm of tempers and frustration that is the Decepticon base. But this is grating on him, fraying his control.

• Ugh. When you’d cautiously asked if there was anything you could do to be helpful and, more importantly, keep you busy and from your own chaotic thoughts, this wasn’t what you’d had in mind. Elbow deep in a crevice on what you had decided was an alien keyboard, you fished out another basketball sized wad of dirt and debris.

• It’s at least keeping you busy. Because you’re sure you should feel guilty about how comfortable you are among the Decepticons. There has to be something seriously wrong with you, but analyzing yourself can wait.

• The mindless task lets your mind wander, too. Until you’re absently humming as you dig your hands in the seam, before slipping into actually singing snippets of songs just so the big, empty room isn’t so deathly quiet and painfully lonely.

• Moving slowly, Soundwave eases into the open room and there’s the human. Making that sound and completely oblivious to him. It’s amazing that for being so tiny, you’re not more aware of your surroundings. He’s never moved so carefully before. Never had to, but you’ll stop as soon as you know he’s there. You always do.

• You’re not sure what alerts you that something is off. Everything is fine, then the fine hair at your nape is prickling and the primitive part of your mind rings an alarm bell. The song wavers to a halt, hands lifting out of the seam as you pray it’s not Skywarp. Be anyone but Skywarp, because that mech has it out for you. Torturing and messing with you is his favorite pastime and finding you alone? No, thank you.

• A frustrated burst of static laden growl escapes Soundwave as the song stops. That noise startles the human and they rear back, trying to turn around, and fall on their aft. Wide eyes stare up at him in very real fear, before it dulls with relief. It’s not him you’re afraid of and he makes a note to figure out who it is later.

• As soon as you realize it’s Soundwave, you can breathe again. This one doesn’t speak a lot, but you like the weird, tonal quality of his voice when he does, and he’s always so very careful with you. More so than any of the others, but he’s used to little things. Though, the way he’s just staring down at you is a bit unsettling.

• “Hi?” The human’s voice is hesitant as it tips its head up to meet his visor-hidden optics without shying away. Curious, but unafraid.

• And now it’s gone from unsettling to a little anxious thread of unease. He’s not speaking, not moving. Just staring down at you. With that visor and mask, he’s a lot harder to read than most of the other Decepticons. Are you in trouble? You almost flinch as he rumbles softly, the stereo thrum of his voice lifting and falling as he hums a few notes you recognize. He’s… singing?

• Face reddening suddenly, the human’s mouth falls open and shut. Its little heart speeds up, too. It wraps its arms around itself, looking everywhere but at him now. Frustrated, he mimics a few notes again. A little louder. More insistent. Apparently the human can go even redder, it’s chin dipping slightly.

• The first note is wobbly and weak, then the human is singing for him. Still won’t meet his optics, but that’s okay for now. Venting softly, he lets his optics drift closed to just listen. The words don’t matter, he just needs that soft sound to slide over him, chaining him sweetly.

[lesbikaiser]

freak in you – s. ryusei.

wc: 4k.

cw: size, breeding and mirror kink, a tiny winy little bit of thigh riding, belly bulge, fingering, lots of spit and an abnormal amount of cum (yours and his!), squirting, dirty talk, subspace mention, literally one clit slap, reverse cowgirl → (semi) full nelson → honestly idek what position it's but he's using your body like his personal fleshlight!! reader has a pussy but no pronouns were defined ^-^ shidou is nasty, a pervy and a meanie! you get cockdrunk at some point so dumbfication!!! also dacryphilia! reader gets called small a lot so beware!

a/n: this is straight up pure smut, no plot, just filthiness!

also i always try to make reader as neutral as possible in every feature so anyone can fit in my writings but for this especially reader is shorter than shidou – nothing impossible though since he's 6'1" tall and all but anyway! other than that, there's no specifications for skin/hair/eye colors, weight or anything! hope everyone is comfortable with what i write!

the atmosphere in your bedroom is suffocating as ryusei devours your lips, you feel his hands everywhere on your body at once and they make you feel so, so hot, your panties are soaked and practically glued to your core with how wet you're, and you know shidou can feel it too when he whistles, his muscular thigh meeting your clothed cunt.

"mmh, you're dripping all over my pants, sweets." the smirk stretching his lips is audible through his tone, fingers sinking on your hips and bringing you closer to him, you can't hold back the moan bubbling up your throat at the delicious friction his muscles give your sore clit. "is it all f'me?"

"shidou..." you only get to whimper, long lost in the trance he's put you in, it's like you're intoxicated as soon as his lips touch your skin, your mind unable to formulate thoughts about anything but him and his hot kisses trailing your neck, sharp teeth nibbling on your flesh.

"that's my name, pretty." he sings, wet tongue coming out to lick a fat stripe up your collarbone, it's all too much to your poor little head – and pussy. everything is foggy, you can only focus on your boyfriend before you, legs spreading wider to give him more room between them. your hips move on their own, grinding against shidou's thighs and oh, he loves it so much, how desperate you get for him everytime he kisses you on the right spots, the shy whimpers in that sweet voice of yours are music to his ears, he wants to consume every single part of you, fill your brain with him and only him – as if he needed to.

his lips leave burning spots on your skin when he pulls away, knee pressing further onto your drooling cunt as his large hands grab your sides, a squeal erupting from your throat and your fingers grip shidou's shirt, watery eyes staring at his devious ones.

"quit teasing, ryu." his antics bring a pout to your swollen lips, he can't help but snicker at your cute face – makes him want to totally rail you.

"no need to say twice, darling." and suddenly he's pushing you against the mattress, fingers hooking on the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs and into his pocket – but not before sniffing them heavily. oh, he's such a pervert.

his digits plunge into your pleading hole without any time for you to get used to it, you can only moan in response at the way they stretch you out, your thighs lock around his wrists, earning a smirk from him before he pries them open, watching the way your greedy cunt swallow his thick digits.

"ryu–! ryu!" his name feels like a mantra on your tongue, he's just fingering and prepping you but it already feels so deep, his skilled fingers have no trouble in finding that spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking up, the way he's thumbing at your little clit, rough pad adding to your pleasure as you slowly fall apart before him.

"gonna cum already, honey bun?" his teasing tone goes straight to your core, you try and whine in retaliation but shidou knows you love it, your cunt getting impossibly wetter tells him you do. the squelching sounds of his fingers dragging against your sensitive walls are quite embarrassing – for you, at least. because your boyfriend thinks it's one of the hottest things his ears have ever been graced to hear, your cute, desperate pussy so wet for him it literally soaks his palm. 

his face comes down to your breasts level, his hot tongue poking at one of your perky nipples before placing the wet muscle flat on it, lips wrapping around your soft flesh and sucking the hard bud into his mouth, the squeal you let out at the extra stimulation is so adorable he feels his dick nearly exploding.

when he pulls away from your mound, there's a string of saliva connecting his lips to your slick nub – so sensitive that the mere breeze of his breath against it makes your body twitch and a whimper escapes you. your skin burns under the boy's tongue licking up your collarbone, neck and jaw before reaching your cheek, leaving a trail of spit all over you, it feels nasty – and it makes your head spin. 

you can barely process your surroundings, all the thoughts that aren't related to your boyfriend vanishing from your mind like steam, you can only think about how good his fingers make you feel, how they fill you up so well and reaches all those spots inside you that your smaller hands can't, it's like your whole body is on fire, toes curling on the mattress and thighs quivering, threatening to close but the tall man hovering over you won't let them. the coil in your stomach only tightens and tightens, you know it's about to snap at any time now, and if you do, shidou does too – you can tell by the way his thrusts speed up, fucking his fingers into your fluttering hole at an inhumane pace – because of course, that's what he's; a demon luring you into his sweet temptation.

his hand grabs your face harshly, smushing your cheeks together to force your lips into a pout, your eyes opening as you stare at him with tears pooling on them, wetting your lashes and he swears he could cum untouched, right then and there, just by watching your face twisting in such hot expressions.

his tongue itches to be inside your mouth, tasting and consuming you entirely, claiming your body and soul as his – again, as if he needed to. his lips are on yours in a blink of an eye, sharing a bruising kiss and you can only moan when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging you to part them open and let him explore the depths of your mouth, his tongue licking against yours makes it so messy and dirty, spit running down your chin and leaking from the corner of your lips.

at this point your brain has already turned into mush, you're drunk and dumb on the pleasure he's giving you, unable to even kiss him back, all you can do is mewl loudly against his lips. your senses are filled with shidou ryusei and only him, you don't realize when you raise your leg up and your foot presses down on his growing bulge, earning a whimper from the man above you.

"heh, playing dirty now aren't we, sweets?" he mumbles, lips swollen and shiny brushing against yours as he speaks, tone giving away how much he yearns for you. 

your desperation is so palpable he can taste it, your nails scratch his biceps to try and ground yourself when his wrist touches your denied clit along with his fingers pinching your nipple, shock waves running through your whole body making it tremble, your back arching off the bed when it gets too much for you to handle, the tight knot in your stomach loosening up and you cum so hard your vision goes white for a moment, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. 

“that's it, make a mess for me.” his voice affects you like some kind of spell, your cunt gushing out more and more of your cum onto his palm, the bedsheets already soaked with your fluids only getting wetter and wetter as shidou keeps fucking his fingers into your hole, helping you to ride out your orgasm. “you're so fucking hot.”

the praise rolls off his tongue smoothly, going straight to your core and making you desperate for more of him, a whine ripping your throat at the sudden emptiness when he pulls his fingers out, you have no time to calm down from your high before your walls clench and beg for more, your brain not even considering that you might just break when it tells your lips to move and speak up, words leaving you so naturally.

"m–more, ryu…” your voice comes out strangled and laced with desperation, shidou's lips stretching in a wide smirk as his tongue darts out to lick them, contemplating the state you find yourself in – cheeks stained by dried tears, lips slightly parted as you try and catch your breath, eyes staring at him so sparklingly and so needy, pupils blown out and gaze overflowing with lust when yet again your foot presses down on his bulge. "wan' feel you inside."

oh, who's he to deny such a request? in one swift motion he's pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight of his huge cock standing tall and proud, leaky tip looking so inviting and seeming to be calling and telling you to wrap your lips around it.

you lift your upper body off the bed, supporting on your elbows as your eyes literally ogle over your boyfriend's dick, cunt drooling and clenching around nothing feeling so empty,  craving to be filled to the brim with his gooey cum.

shidou is pleased by your reactions, staring at him so dumbly and without a single thought in your head, just him and his stupidly huge cock that could easily rip you open – and it seems to be exactly what you want.

so that's what he does, hands holding your waist and hoisting you up so easily it reminds you of how bigger than you he's, how he could overpower you without any fight and literally manhandle you – just like he's doing now. in an blink of an eye he's seated down on the mattress, facing your back as you're on top of him, your fluttering pussy hovering over his sensitive tip as both of your eyes set on the mirror in front of you. 

you take a few seconds to look at yourself, your skin is covered up in hickeys from your neck to your breasts – a beautiful work of art in ryusei’s opinion; lips swollen and eyes puffy from the previous tears, your hair a little disheveled and inner thighs shining with your arousal. then you move to check your boyfriend and you swear you almost cum just from the sight, his own thighs apart in a manspreading as he supports his weight with one hand on the bed, wide chest in full display – you don't even know when he took his shirt off –  and that intoxicating gaze in his eyes staring directly at you, his huge frame making you look even smaller compared to him.

with shaky hands, you reach for his knees to steady yourself, eyes catching through the mirror the exact moment when shidou holds your waist with one of his hands, the other lining his dick with your entrance and you bite down on your lip in anticipation, his words giving away how eager he's.

“c’mon, hurry up and sit.” he lowers your body onto him, both of you hissing at the contact of his leaky, fat tip with your slippery cunt, even after all his preparation and the ridiculous amount of lubrication dripping down your thighs, your hole still flutters and clenches around him trying to accommodate his sheer size and you need a few seconds to get used to the stretch, you can't help the few tears pricking the corner of your eyes at how good it feels to be filled up, that familiar sensation of fullness hitting you and you're ready to start moving but then there's more. 

you look down to where you two are connected, only to be met with a few inches of your boyfriend's dick still out, your pussy all stretched around him and yet there's more to go in. it can't be true, your eyes must be betraying you because you can't believe it, of course you've had him all the way in and of course you knew how massive he's but you've never tried this position – and it's ridiculous how impossibly deeper he can reach in it. your hands fly to grab his, holding onto them as you try to stop him from sinking you further down.

“w–wait, ryu.” your eyes meet through the mirror, there's clearly a scoff on his face as he stares at you with one raised brow, you can feel the way his cock is pulsating against your walls and how much he's holding back to not just fuck you dumb already. your next remark blooms a proud smirk on his lips. “you're too big! ‘s not gonna fit…”

“‘course i am, pretty. gonna make it fit and y’gonna take it like you always do, yeah?” he teases, guiding your hips to meet his pelvis and literally splitting you open on his cock, you scratch at his forearms, wiggle your ass trying to escape from his vice grip on your waist, whine for him to wait and that “‘s too much, can't take it!” and squirm restlessly on his lap but none of these seem to stop him. he sinks you further and further down, your walls squeezing impossibly tighter around his shaft and making it no easy for him. “shit, loosen up a little f’me baby.”

you can't even make out his words, it's like you're being torn apart by his dick but god, it's amazing, the feeling too overwhelming for you to understand anything. it feels like he's in your ribs when he finally bottoms out, it feels hard to breath, a sigh making its way through his lips as he gives you an experimental thrust, watching how you'll react – but you're too light headed to complain, getting only to whine his name, head thrown on his shoulder.

his eyes trails down your limp body through the mirror, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a bulge on your belly. his fat tip rests against your cervix, you can feel the way his cock twitches and can't understand why until his fingers apply some pressure on your tummy, you whimper and immediately look down to where he's pressing, only to be met with the skin of your stomach slightly distended trying to accommodate your boyfriend's girth, and you feel dizzy. 

“ehe, pussy so tiny it can barely take my dick.” he growls in your ear when your cunt starts clenching uncontrollably around him, but you can't help it. it's how he said, his cock is so huge that your pussy can't take all of it without a bulge forming on your stomach, your mind is all fogged up and you don't stop your hips from lifting before letting them down, starting to ride him lazily. 

a proud, wide smirk appears on shidou's lips as he watches you struggling to move on his dick, your hands holding onto his knees to balance yourself, your arousal all over his strong thighs with how you're humping him. and you're being so damn loud, desperate moans overflowing your mouth because surprisingly it's not enough. not his dick – no, you've never felt so full in your life, but you can't seem to do it right, trying desperately to make him hit the right spot inside you.

shidou, however, is delighted, eyes fixed on how your pussy swallows him whole, your fluids forming a white ring around his base and soaking his balls, your frustrated cries reaching his ears and you sound so cute, he can't end it just now.

it doesn't take too much for you to grow tired, thighs giving out from trying and pleasure yourself, your body laying back and resting on ryusei's chest as you start to hump him pathetically, gaze finding his on the mirror and you mewl for his help, clenching your walls around his pulsating shaft and trying to convince him to fuck you.

and you look so vulnerable like this, grinding against his crotch like a bitch in heat and whining his name so helplessly, he's going crazy – feral, insane. with a sudden urgency, he's hooking his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up to your chest and exposing your stuffed pussy, his fingers gripping tightly on your thighs as he literally ogles your abused hole spamming around his length – the bulge on your tummy even more notorious now.

"woah, what a privileged view we've got here, don't y’think, sweets?" he whistles, bouncing your body experimentally on his cock and almost losing his mind with how easy he can move you, using your pussy like his personal fleshlight.

"shi– shidou–!” you yelp at his actions, feeling too ashamed to look at his face, the way he's holding you up against him with your legs wide open, cunt on full display for his hungry eyes, mirror reflecting the way his dick stretches you so well, your toes curl in the air as you paw at his hands – that's not what you meant when you asked for his help. "w–wait, ryu, this is embarrassing–!”

he doesn't listen to you – he never does. ignoring the way your nails scratch his skin, he starts bouncing you more fervorously, lifting your little frame off his cock – only the tip in – before slamming you down again, then repeating again and again and again. he's acting like an animal already, panting and grunting at your gummy, warm and tight walls rubbing against him so well, it's like you're trying to milk him with how much you're clenching, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips along with a few whimpers whenever his tip hits either your cervix or that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars – the spot that only his massive dick can reach.

there's not a single thought on your head aside from how well shidou is fucking you, using your body as he pleases like you're a ragdoll, made with the only intention of pleasuring him, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes are trained on the mirror – more specifically, on the dick going in and out of your hole in a inhumane pace.

oh, and shidou thinks you look so sexy like that. your face contorting in pleasure, spit dripping from your loosen tongue and eyes clouded with lust, you're unable to even formulate a phrase, only incoherent whimpers coming from your lips – completely drunk and dumb on his cock. “look at you, fucked dumb on my dick already, letting me use you as my cocksleeve, so small and so nasty.”

your nails dig into his biceps’ flesh, using them as some kind of leverage as he literally rails your pussy, you feel like you're about to melt under his touch with the way his tip hits your sweet spot over and over and over again, lazy eyes watching how the bulge on your tummy disappears before reappearing whenever he sinks you down.

it feels so good, to be manhandled, overpowered, left helpless with the only option of taking it, you're on the verge of tears and your throat is sore from moaning so loud but you can't help it when wave after wave of pleasure runs through your veins, the feeling is so overwhelming yet so amazing, you feel so damn full yet you don't want shidou to ever pull out, walls clamping down on his length furiously like your pussy is trying to get every single drop of him – and it's.

he growls and moans at the feeling, a smirk reaching his lips as even dirtier thoughts crowd his mind. he wants to make a mess of you, fill you up with his cum and spurt his seed so deep in your womb to claim you as his, marking you in every possible way as a sign that you belong to him, and your cunt belongs to where it rightfully is – being pounded by his cock.

“a–ha, such a dirty little thing, aren't you? so fuckin’ tight sweets, gonna make me cum so hard.” he's licking at your tears, biting your earlobe and whispering such nasty things against it, he seems to be on a mission of making you lose your mind – and he knows that he already succeed on it. “gonna fill you up so good, make you cum all over my cock, y’want that don't you?”

it's insane. the way he's pushing your knees together, one arm looping under them to hold you against his chest and he's holding you with just one arm, his free hand sneaking between your thighs to rub harsh circles on your neglected clit – and you nearly explode. “so good, so good, it's so good!” is all you can think, he's thrusting his hips up to meet yours and bouncing your body up and down, you can feel the way his dick is pulsating and how every single vein on it rubs so deliciously against your gummy walls, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your nub so fervently and it's all too much.

the knot inside you snaps and your toes curl in the air, your head thrown back on your boyfriend's shoulder when you cum on his dick, a long moan leaving your lips and your mind is blank, unable to process anything but the way your orgasm hits you.

“that's it baby, cum all you want, y're so hot.” you barely understand what he's saying, still lost in cloud nine due to your climax, slowly riding it out as you calm down, but shidou doesn't falter on his moves, hips still slamming into your ass and thumb still rubbing your clit – though it's a more feather touch this time. you whine and writhe in his grip, slurred cries about it being too much but he's not listening, he never is. “keep crying pretty thing, my dick’s gonna explode.”

he's a freak, you feel your whole body on fire as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the squelching sounds so louder now you've came, your body going up and down easier and you're so sensitive, even the tiniest thing is enough to make you snap yet once more – in this case, shidou's palm giving your clit a light slap. your eyes roll back to your skull behind your eyelids, your sore throat unable to make any sound but a high-pitched cry, legs shaking uncontrollably and your ears going deaf for a second when you squirt.

your cum drenches everything – shidou's arms, his thighs, your thighs, the sheets, even the mirror gets dirty with a few drops, you're truly making a mess, and ryusei loves it so much, he's brought over the edge as well, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting in your core.

he moans in your ear like a whore, dick throbbing and twitching as he blows his load inside you, it's so much it nearly bloats your stomach, some of it leaking from your hole as he keeps moving you up and down.

“y–eah, so damn hot sweets, gon’ knock you up, breed this pussy real good ‘till i’m satisfied.” he knows you're not listening, watching through the mirror how your body writhes in his arms as you try to ride out your orgasm, it's so intense and the way his hot cum is filling you up doesn't help at all, you feel so overstimulated that you can't even open your eyes, seeming to be on the verge of passing out, lips dumbly murmuring your boyfriend's name.

"uh uh, don't sleep on me now, pretty face, we're not done yet." when he finally pulls out, it's a true mess. his sticky cum is flooding from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and onto his along with your own fluids, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he takes a few seconds to fully admire it, before laying back on the mattress with you on top. he lines his dick with your entrance yet again, teasing voice breaking your subspace walls as he thrusts up, shoving all of his size in you with one swift motion. "gotta breed this pussy a few more times to make sure you're nice and full.”

[unspeakable-imagination]

Not just a One Night Stand || Logan Howlett

Reblogs, likes, and comments always appreciated

My asks are open find my masterlist here

18+ below the cut MDNI

Cw:takes place between origins and xmen 1, porn with little to no plot,nipple peircings, primal kinks, breeding kinks, choking and other breath play, probably a little blood his claws cound as knifeplay?, p in v, cunnilingus/(F receiving oral),he talks you through it🤌, use of alcohol and tabacco, cannon-typical violence, obviously curse words

First time writing smut, tell me how I did

Logan, or as the tags around his neck say, Wolverine, had been living without memories of his past for two years. All he had was a truck, a trailer, and a bike, all of which he won some way through the cage fighting that made him good money.

He knew what he was. He learned it rather quickly, in a world where mutants were cursed apon. That's why he didn't tell a single damn soul, and if they found out, he'd either leave the city or kill the problem that made him loose his patience in the first place.

That was one thing about Logan. He was shockingly patient. Unless it came to the dumb fucks constantly trying to take back the money they'd lost. This night was like any of the rest, fight, drink, find a girl and fuck, then start over again the next night. Or atleast it would have been.

He'd just finished his final cage fight of the night, and gripped the thick envelope filled to the seem with bills of all sorts. he thumbed through and took out some of the lesser bills, ones and fives, then stuffed the envelope inside of his inner coat pocket.

He strutted to the bar while he pulled a half smoked cigar and a basic lighter from his other pocket. By the time he was sitting, he was already twisting the cigar in the flame, lighting the edges to get an even burn. The bartender already knew his order, given that he was here the night before and was already sliding a glass filled with whiskey to the brim over the counter to his place setting.

Then, it happened as usual. Drink, smoke, and look around the bar. And then, like the pretty little thing that you were, you slid into the barstool next to him. "Hey there," you said. Your hair was pulled back into a half up half down style, and your neck was covered in glittering silver chains. Your ears had similarly matching jewley, dangling earrings that hung to your collarbones. You were wearing a tiny black dress with thin straps and stocking with a pair of pumps.

"Hey," he said, looking you up and down. "Ain't you pretty, doll?" He purred. You blinked, flitting your lashed at him.

"I'd sure hope so if it meant I caught your attention," you hummed. You motioned to the tender and asked for something simple, but logan didn't hear what it was. He was to focused on drinking you in, staring at you, noticing every little detail of your body that he could see. He almost had to stop himself from groaning when he noticed the special way that your dress perked around your nipples, the shape of peircings peeking through. You glanced over as you received your drink,

"Mind if i have a drag, please?" you hummed, raising your head and watching him carefully. You're eyes looked to his cigar and back up, your tounge darting out to lick your lips. You watched a cloud of smoke that was bearly falling from his lips suck back on when he took a deep breath.

"Here," he said, pulling the cigar from his lips to hand it to you. He watched your fingers, dainty as they were compared to his, gently pull it from his grasp. He watched as you brought it to your own mouth, taking a pull. He watched the embers glow and recede, he watched the way you closed your eyes and tilted your head back. He watched the way the vein on your neck throbbed to your heartbeat, and thought about how badly he wanted to bite it. He had to stop himself from groaning.

"Fuck," he mumbled.

"What are you thinking," you peered at the name on his dogtags," Wolverine?" He swallowed thickly and then he leaned in, closer to you.

"Logan. I think we should go talk somewhere eles," the way he said it was low, deep, and his voice rumbled like thunder.

"[Name]. And I think so, too, Logan." You nearly purred at the way he sounded and tiped back your drink, swallowing it whole as he did mostly the same. He helped you slide off your seat, plucking the cigar from your mouth as he did so and putting it back in his own. He stood and gripped you by your waist tightly, stepping with you towards the exit.

Shockingly, the moment you two were walking down the hallway of the hotel was rather controlled. Nobody was making out, slamming into walls, nobody was moaning. It was painstaking keeping your hands off of Logan.

Constant glances at eachother while murmuring sweet compliments about how pleasing one another looked, teasing words like "Oh I don't mind coming with you," and other phrases.

The moment you slipped into the room, words were no longer small whispers, and instead real, volume reasonably added.

Logan wasn't shy. He'd pulled the money to pay for the drinks in the room of the fridge, even adding a bit extra to get a smokers room. He didn't take his time grabbing a beer from the tiny fridge and slamming the necks against the counter to pop the caps off.

You had already relit the cigar that you were forced to put out in the lobby, leaning your torso out the window, your ass in perfect view. You looked so angelically sinful.

"The moon is so beautiful, tonight." Logan's eyes didn't leave you, and when you turned, he offered you a beer. You took it, pleased. "Thank you."

Logan looked out the window, seeing the full moon, and then back to your eyes. The lighting in the hotel was dim, but he was able to see your face.

"You're beautiful, too." He sat down on the edge of the bed and you footed towards him, slipping one leg at a time around his waist till you straddled him. He took a drink and you extanged the cigar back to him to take your own.

"You know the moon used to have a lover," you said. Logan cocked his head to the side.

"Yeah?" You nodded and hummed.

"Kuekuatsheu. Him and the moon lived in the spirit world and would dance together across the sky, every night." He leaned foward a little putting his elbows on your thighs then looked up at you.

"But there was another spirit, a trickster in love with the moon. He was jealous." You used your free hand to comb your fingers through his hair, over his ear. "So the trickster told Kuekuatsheu that the moon wanted flowers, and that he should come to earth to pick them for her."

"Never trust a guy named trickster," he uttered, kicking his lips. You giggled, lightly and gently.

"Well, people do stupid things sometimes. Kuekuatsheu didn't know that leaving the spirit world meant he could never go back. He's trapped, and every night, when he sees the moon he calls out to her. They can never touch eachother again" you frowned, drawing a line on his face.

"Well, Koo-koo-ka-Choo got screwed." You reached down to his dogtags and fiddled with them.

"Kuekuatsheu. It weans The Wolverine, like your tags." He watched her fingers fiddle with the thin sheets of metal. He put the cigar on the ashtray at the end table and gently grabbed your wrist.

You watched him carefully as he kissed right under your palm.

"You should be scared of me," he said, and kissed up your arm.

"I'm not, I know you won't hurt me in any way I don't want." Thoes words made him still.

"What do you mean?" He said. Another kiss to your elbow.

"I like it rough, Logan." He kissed your shoulder blade.

"I can't be anything but rough," he murmured against your shin. He moving his head to the dip of your breastbone. "That's not what I'm worried about."

"Then what is it?" You brought your beer up to your mouth, taking another sip. He did the same.

"Not being able to stop," he admitted. He looked up at you again and swore the light framing your head from the window was really a halo.

"I can stop you if i wanted. I can take it, please, Logan." He tossed his head back, palming your thigh that was holding onto you. He swallowed, his mouth going dry.

"Say my name again," he put his drink on the nightstand and took yours, doing the same.

"Logan," you hummed, dipping your head down to his throat, gently nibbling at the flesh in the crook. He groaned and lifted you by your ass, putting your pack onto the bed.

"God you gave no fucking idea what's going on in my brain, baby. I could fucking destroy you," leaned ontop of you, supporting his weight on his elbows and knees. One knee was between your legs and he pushed it between your thighs.

"I could devour you right now." He kissed your collarbones, then up to your neck and bit you in a similar fashion how you did him. "I could ruin you the same way I'm about to ruin this dress."

You only hummed, your arms latching around his neck. What suddenly shocked you was the clean sound of metal, three claws extending from between his knuckles on one hand, right next you your face.

You felt your heart speed up and he kissed your cheek, then breathed in your ear. "Don't worry, you know I won't hurt you in a way you wouldn't like," and it sent a shiver down your spine. You almost moaned.

He sat up, bringing his claws to the neckline of your dress and pulling the down, slicing the dress in the respective places, small cat scratches underneath. The shallow cuts, like that from paper, beaded tiny drops of the crimson fluid every few inches. Nothing to heavy.

The cool air hitting your now hot skin made you whine, "Oh God's, logan," you watched, eyes open as he cut your stocking waistline elastic, and once slice above each thigh around the bands of your underwater.

"You don't need these anymore," he said. His claws retracted and he shrugged off his beater. You watched him lift the hem and when you saw skin, you latched your fingers onto it. You dug your fingers into his hips above his belt and jeans and tugged your bottom lip in your teeth. He slid off the bed, leaving your grasp.

You sat up to watch him get on his knees, looking at him with confusion. "What?"

"M' just gonna help these off, don't worry," he said, yanking at the destroyed fabric thag was still on you. Your heels fell off with your irrepreably damaged stocking and gasped at the cold hitting your heated core. He took a deep breath and growled. Literally growled.

He gripped above your knees and dug you to the edge of the bed, burring his face in the middle of your thigh and sunk his teeth into it, you head lolled back in a moan.

"I could just tear you to shreds," he said between bites as he traveled up your legs. He but you so hard, you'd sure you'd bruise in no time.

"Please, Lo," you hummed squirming and opening your knees a little further.

"Come on, baby. Beg for me more." You began to open your mouth, prepared you beg, to scream for him to touch you, but you never got the chance. He dug his teeth into your thigh where it meets your hip and you moaned your back arching and pushing your considerably soaked cunt into his chin.

"Fuck," he hissed, grabbing your hips and pushing them back down. "Stay, be good."

"Please, please, Logan, I need you to touch me," you preened. "Please I need you to touch me,"

"There you go," he hummed and used his hands to open your knees for more than just his head. He adjusted his shoulders between your knees before he lifted one leg above and onto his shoulder.

"Oh," you gasped as he nosed his fave into your country, taking a deep breath. He licked a stripe upwards between your folds and you swore you felt your hips jut, just a tad, and you breathed out a shaky sigh.

"Don't go quiet on me now, baby girl. I got you," he nuzzled his face in deeper. Lolling his mouth open, he did just what he said he'd do, devouring you. He sucked your clit into him mouth and your hand flew into his hair at you moaned, sure it would shake the paper walls of the place.

You grappled and tugged his hair, while also trying to shove his face deeper between your legs. He groaned into your folds, vibrating your whole being, which only made you whine more and forget to swallow. The sensation of his mouth sucked around you made you nearly cry when he prodded a finger into you, not even realizing one of his hands left your leg.

He ate you like a starved man, "Lo, i," you panted. It was hard to think, or even speak,

"You what?" He pulled away for only a second but you shaved his fave back down.

"Don' stop, please. M' so close," you nearly cried. He only laughed into your body and added another finger, his lips placing themselves wrapped around your core again. You felt ever fiver in your being tense and began you hurriedly day pleases like a prayer over and over, wrapping your calf around his neck to dig him in further and practically ride his face.

All it took for that rope to snap was his teeth lightly grazing over your clit and you fell off your elbow that kept you propped, your head flung back into a moan. He didn't stop, though. He lapped up whatever juices fell from your hole and grumbled, almost feraly. You shook beneath him and wiggled, until he slurped up ever drop of arousal and release that was left in you before he pulled his face away.

His chin and parts of his chops glistened with what parts of you he couldn't consume and he gave you a toothy, mischievous smile. "Oh baby, I'm hardly done with you."

You panted, still trying to catch your breath, but your hand in his hair hand long went slack, snaking up your hips to grope yourself.

He stood, wiping his face with the back of his hand, up half his arm and then reahed down to undo his belt the metal clanging, then his zipper, hill his pants fell to his feet. You hadn't even noticed he stepped out of them.

He grabbed you, pushing you further up the bed till he settled on his knees, cock standing proud. Your droopy-lidded eyes widening at the sheer girth.

"Don't worry, baby it will fit, I'll make it" then he grabbed you by your legs pressing them over his shoulders and locking you into a mating press. He ran a thumb over your clit. Then spit into his palm, pumping himself.

"I can't wait, please lo," your eyes locked onto his and your lips parted. He grabbed you by your jaw and tilted his head.

"Open thoes pretty lips more," he demanded and you obliged. He spit into you mouth and then shut it for you, massaging your throat as he whispered for you to swallow. When you did, you opened your mouth, all pretty and he broke. "Fuck it."

He pumped himself a few more times, quickly before grabbing your hips the the point that they dimpled and turned white, sure to bruise, and shoved you onto him, hilted in just a moment. His head lolled back his mouth flew Open in the most feral, gut churning groan, or maybe it was your organs readjusting. You were to busy moaning, writhing and shivering underneath him. "Good girl, that's my girl."

He laid one arm next to your ribs to keep balance and the other one grabbed the bearly breathing cigar. He took a drag, slowly beginning to pump his hips. The tiny, almost exhausted embers in the cigar burned back to life and began to blossom the heat through the bud. He left the cigar in his lips and wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing lightly while you were in a trance, softl, gummed moans leaving your blissed face with every thrust. He lifted your head slightly and blew the smoke in your face, letting you breath in the smoke, then squeezed again, and let go. He grabbed the cigar and dropped his head to your neck, bending his supporting elbow. You choked at the way he went impossibly deeper, but he didn't care.

"You got this, baby," he whispered in your ear. He latched his lips onto your vein and began sucking splotches, coloring your neck in reds and purples, occasionally stopping to suck down another portion if cigar. He moved and pressed his lips to yours, exhaling the smoke into your mouth, which you greedily accepted.

He put the cigar back down, sat up, and used one hand to lube his fingers with some of your juices before playing with your clit again, watching you but at the overstimulating feeling. "I got you, hey, it's okay," he muttered. His other hand locked around your throat once more and he used it to pull you up and down on his cock, effectively making you ride him from the bottom

You whined and pleaded, asking him for more, that you were going to come again. He responded with a squeeze. "Then come on me, baby, all over."

Your hands found his thighs and you dug your nails into his legs, trying to ground yourself, " Yes, yes," you chanted. He watched the drool fall down tour cheek and grinned.

Your hips stuttered and your legs jerked, but the hand from your troat flew to one of your knees to hold you in place. "lo, lo, i," your face scrunched and his hand on your core stilled the same way his hips did as he felt your pussy clench onto him. He felt his thighs grow wet as fluid gushed from where you met, and he leaned back and watched.

"Good, baby. What a good girl," he hummed, pulling himself from you. You winced at the feeling of emptiness, but laid there, eye closed as you tried to recover. You listened as he stoked himself, listened to him groan, and opened your eyes just in time to watch him ejaculate all over your stomach. His warm, thick sperm painted your abdomen and even reached your ribs and then he backed up, putting your legs down gently on the bed.

"Just wait right there, don't move, okay?" He took your humming as a good response and scooted off the bed, walking to the bathroom. You listened to the faucet run and listened to him shuffle around. You heard the faucet shut off, and he appeared from the doorway with a washcloth, damp and warm. He came to the edge of the bed and knelt down, gently wiping your thighs and your mound, moving down to gently dap at your folds before he brought it up to wipe the cum from your stomach.

"You did so well," he said careful to avoid the scabbed slices from earlier. When he finished cleaning you, he climbed back onto the bed and fell to your side.

"Stay with me, [Name]. More than just tonight." You curled into his arms and he pulled the blanket over the both of you.

"Okay, Logan."

[yawnderu]

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part II

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

Simon scores a date with his favorite medic

Or

Simon has to be under her watch after getting a knife to the gut.

"Oi, doc." Simon calls out and you sigh softly, gaze drifting from your patient report to him, his unmasked figure lays on the medical bed, gauze wrapped tightly over his abdomen, keeping his newest injury guarded from anything that could rub on or mess up the stitches.

"Why'd they call you K-9?" One of his thin, eyeblack stained eyebrows lifts as he looks at you, already feeling bored from having to stay still for so long, movement limited by the patched up stab wound on his stomach.

"Long story." You dismiss him, looking back down at the patient report you were writing for him. His medical file was interesting, indicating no pictures of him should ever be taken, as well as additional personal and professional information.

"You got surgery in 2020, what's that about?" You didn't notice any bigger scars whenever he was injured, having already seen his naked torso and part of his legs.

"Curious 'bout me, doc?" His tone is slightly teasing, the smug bastard thinking he's funny by asking that. A single eye roll is enough to get him to speak, a deep, gravelly chuckle escaping his lips before he answers.

"Took a nasty gunshot to the leg, was fadin' fast." He lays back down, gaze drifting towards the ceiling as he thinks about it. He was so close to death himself, only three years ago.

"Thought it'd be more interesting." Your bluntness never fails to make him double take. It's not passive aggressive or mean, just... way too honest. More than he's used to.

"I'll get a proper grand injury just for you, lass." You roll your eyes again, taking a sip from your coffee to hide the way the corners of your lips are tugging up. It's amusing, really, to find out how much Simon has changed throughout the years. Price told you he used to be much more quiet, though after 4 years of working with the task force, he was able to open up, getting more and more used to interacting with a team rather than being a lone wolf.

"That's not necessary, I can give it to you myself if you'd like." Your gloved hand presses on the scalpel on your white coat before going back to writing his medical report, tone laced with subtle humor.

"She can joke." He taunts, trying to sit up before a sharp hiss of pain escapes his lips. You frown, the report taking way too long to finish because you keep getting interrupted.

"Hold on." You walk up to him, hands holding onto his strong back before you try to help the behemoth of a man sit up. His calloused hands hold onto your forearms, a few low, deep groans escaping his lips at the strain his flexing muscles are causing to the fresh injury.

"Fuckin' hell." He mutters and you look up, eyes focusing on his pained expression for a second too long. Simon isn't ugly, really, but when his face is all scrunched up in pain, sweat gathering in the form of clear specks all over his eyeblack stained skin? He looks almost majestic. You get your head out of the gutter, placing some soft pillows behind his back to help keep him up without much strain.

"You should be healed up soon enough, got lucky the bastard didn't stab that deep." You shrug, looking back at the tiny coffee maker in your office before you look back up at him, his brown eyes already staring back at you, pupils blown, as usual.

"Want some coffee?" He shakes his head politely, eyes closing in pain as he tries to get into a more comfortable position.

"A cuppa would be nice." You flick his forehead softly, tired eyes drifting towards the clock on the wall. 0100, yet you simply nod and grab your phone from the desk.

"Try not to die while I'm gone." The door closes behind you before he can reply, brown eyes closing as he sighs when you're gone. He doesn't even know how it all started. Simon is a man of discipline, a soldier, a Ghost, yet the way his heart quickens and his cock hardens whenever he's with you is something he can't control, as if a parasite made home in his brain and is using his body as a vessel, ridding him completely of any self-control.

You come back 10 minutes later, a tray with a cup of hot tea and food placed on his lap, the almost comforting warmth quickly spreading through his legs and body.

"Thank you." He moves the spoon around the cup of Earl Grey, letting the sugar mix in for a hot minute before he takes a sip from it, nodding his head once in approval. He was starving, really, but he tried his best to eat slowly, ignoring his hungry stomach begging him to wolf it all down. His eyes drift back to the tray, attention caught by the singular orange left there.

His hands fumble for one of the knives in his clothes, finding all of the straps were removed by you and placed too far away for his injured body to reach. He looks back up at you, admiring you in silence and truly taking you in. The way you lift your glasses every once in a while even before they can slip down the bridge of your nose, the way your hand fiddles with the pen and your lips turn into a small pout whenever you're not sure how to describe something in the report, the way you look so angelic under the dim lights of the infirmary—

"What are you lookin' at?" You don't even bother looking back at him, feeling his stare on you for the past two minutes. He has such an intense gaze that makes you feel as if he can see through your soul, yet it never intimidated you.

"Nothin', bird, nothin'. Peeled you an orange."

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

[cannikii]

Spoiled.

Ais, Vere, Kuras, Mhin, Leander x Reader

a/n: i didnt mean to post this so late omg but i got distracted so bad by crk HAHAJ sorryy!! also, requests are open

notes: ais, vere, kuras, mhin, and leander x reader (seperately), they all love to spoil you, vere is a FLIRTT, leander is basically your sugar daddy, g/n reader, not proofread SORRY!

AIS — JEWLERY

ais liked the sight of jewlery on himself. he wore earrings, rings, bracelets, anything. he wouldn’t say he loved jewlery, because honestly, he would be fine with or without it.

so he thought nothing of it when you pointed at his bracelet, asking if you could try it on. he seemed pleasantly surprised at first before he grinned, slipping it off his wrist.

“sure, sparrow. go ‘head and put it on.”

since you had just come to the town recently, you had no accessories such as jewlery at all. the bracelet on your wrist was a new look, despite the way it hung loosely due to the difference in the size of you and ais.

ais stared with curiousity, his head cocked slightly as he watched you giggle at the sight of the bracelet dangling loosely on your wrist.

“ah, it’s too big for me. here.” he barely noticed you dangling his bracelet in front of his face, and he slowly took it and placed it back on his wrist. he stared at your neck, then your arm, then your ring, making tiny notes in the back of his head.

and before you knew it, a double in your size of each and every piece of jewlery he had was in a small, pretty box that rested in your hands. he looked down at you, his grin toothy. there was a copy of his necklaces, his bracelet, his rings. all of it, just for you.

“you know, i was thinkin’ of how you looked with my bracelet on. you looked so cute, thought you’d look cute with it all, sparrow.” he grinned.

and before you could even begin to thank him, or say anything at all, his hands are reaching for the box, setting it aside. the two of you sit together in a comfortable silence as he grabs your fingers gently, slipping each ring on a certain finger so that you’ll be completely matching with him. it’s an odd sight— but its not necessarily new. ais was always gentle when it came to you. (well, as long as you wanted him to be..)

and then he slips the bracelet over your wrist- careful, yet big and rough hands against your arm. he seemed rather focused.

and then he leaned closer near your neck, his hair tickling your cheek as he clipped the necklaces around your neck. he leaned back, looking satisfied as he grinned.

“oh…” he hummed lowly, head turning to the side slightly as he looked at you, taking you all in. “hm… you almost wear them better than me, sparrow.” he teases, laughing slightly.

and from then on out, don’t be surprised when he randomly comes up to you with a new box full of jewlery, and makes you sit with him as he puts them on from you.

and hey! maybe he’ll even offer to do some piercings for you. he thinks you’d look stunning with some, and he’d be more than happy to do them himself.

VERE — CLOTHES

vere was obsessed with himself- everyone knew that! he was cocky, flirtatious, and more. he kept himself well groomed, had beautiful fashion, and had a face that was very, very hard to resist.

but when you came into his life, he had something new and beautiful to obsess over.

you were well kept (in his eyes, at least) and your face had him practically in a trance, sometimes fumbling with his teasing phrases when he would attempt to speak with you.

and he’d admire you deeply, his eyes tracing every- and i mean every single feature of you. and with that, he’d be able to imagine you just perfectly wearing clothes that he thought you would look just like a model in.

“(name),” he purred, approaching you with a sly smile, “i got something for you. please, go and put it on for me.” a bag is quickly placed in your hands, and he quickly directs you to a private area in which you can change.

and when you open the bag, your eyes are wide open, your jaw dropping. it is a gorgeous, expensive looking red dress/suit. (imagine any red dress/suit that looks cute to you!! ^^) and when you put it on, it happens to fit you quite perfectly, leaving you to question how vere knew which exact size to get.

your hands are folded and placed in front of you in a shy manner as you walk out, approaching vere. before you can even ask anything- for example, the price- he’s talking.

“oh, (name)… you look so…” he’s in a dream-like stare as his hand rests on his cheek, staring at you very intently with a grin. “why don’t you do a little spin for me, please? i want to see how it fits all of you.”

you sheepishly oblige, spinning in your new outfit that hugs you so perfectly. vere watches intently, taking the sight in with a sigh.

the sigh makes you perk up worriedly. did he think it looked bad on you? did he-

“(name),” he brings you out of your worried state, his voice like honey in your ears. “god, i could just eat you whole, you know? this looks so good on you, you don’t even know.” he grins as he makes his way to you, his hands finding his way to your hips.

and when he’s closer, you notice the color of your outfit and his hair is about the same exact thing. of course he would make it the same… his own little way of showing you off as his.

in little time, your wardrobe is piled full with clothes, and you probably bought maybe a tenth of them at most. some of the clothes are- well, were vere’s clothes that he had deemed looked better on you.

KURAS — CARE

“kuras—! it’s barely a cold, i have the smallest fever!”

he simply hums in reply, acknowledging yet completely ignoring your protests at the same time. his back is turned to you as he prepares a medicinal tea.

“kuras.” you huff, and he barely turns his head over his shoulder to face you, and you now see that he wears that awful teasing grin of his. “you know you have patients lined up outside that need your help more than i do!”

“and they can wait patiently. i have more important matters to take care of, such as nursing you back to health, dear.” he’s sweet and gentle when he talks, despite his teasing expression.

“it’s just barely a cold…” you grumble as he places the medicinal tea in your hands.

“sure, but we don’t want it to get any worse, do we now? i want you to return to well health soon. i hate seeing you ill.” he hums, hands that are surprisingly soft reaching to hold the side of your face, thumb brushing over your features.

you can protest no longer, practically melting into his touch with a deep sigh.

with kuras there, expect to never need to care for yourself, yourself!

despite his busy job, he always seems to magically make time for you. he’ll nurse you back to health if you’re sick, he will comfort you if you’re not feeling your best, he’ll cook for you… well, he’ll TRY to cook for you. and if (when) that doesn’t work, he’ll always find some delicious food at a vendor to pick up for you.

“kuras, i know you’re busy. you should probably head on to work..”

“my love. you didn’t seem like yourself today, i’d like to be with you for the day. i cannot stand seeing you feel even the slightest bit bad, you know?”

before you can protest, he continues: “i’ll stay with you because i love you and care for you dearly, (name). i’m sure the patients can wait.”

his hand finds yours, giving it a comforting squeeze. you sigh, inevitably giving in to him.

sometimes, if he were to be with you at your home, he would randomly begin to tidy up for you. he doesn’t mind it— if its for you, he would never mind it. hell, he’d do about anything as long as it would make you happy.

and in the quiet moments together when you can sit peacefully, just holding each other, it’s important for him to make sure you understand just how much he cares for you.

“id do anything for you, my dear, if you had asked. i love you.”

MHIN — PROTECTING YOU

“mhin! come on, have a drink, why don’t you?” leander grinned largely at mhin, but they were completely distracted.

their eyes had followed you as you bid your farewell and exited the wet wick, pushing out the door, seeming careless as ever. it made them tense, and they barely registered leander’s words as they stood up from their chair.

“…no. i have things to do.”

leander sighed, smiling as he shook his head. “you know… if you never let (name) outta your sight, and always protect them, how are they gonna learn to protect themself when you arent there to protect them?” he asked, cocking his head as he watch mhin.

mhin had become tense at the question, staring at leander with a glare as they scoffed. they had a lot to stay, but the only thing they were able to muster up was a “what i do doesnt concern you.” as they quickly walked out of the wet wick and went to follow you.

now, it could go two ways. mhin could straight up catch up to you, often claiming that they simply had business with you or that you guys had happened to cross paths.

that, or mhin would watch you quietly, leaving you undisturbed from their prescence (even if that would never be a disturbance for you), and from anything that would cause you any sort of harm.

if mhin let danger even come a foot within you, they would never forgive themself, even if you survived such a danger. if something like a soulless ever even touched you, they would truly never recover.

leander’s words play in their head sometimes- that if they keep protecting you like this that you will never learn to protect yourself when they aren’t there.

mhin grumbles at the thought, rolling their eyes. it’s a simple concept to them: they’ll never let you out of their sight, and they’ll never let harm come your way.

anything that dared to touch you would surely regret it.

so when a soulless jumped at you, snarling and hungry for blood, mhin was on top of it in a mere second. you were almost just barely cut by the creature, and you stumbled back, falling on your rear.

mhin could barely control their movements. after they finished off the soulless, they rushed to you, pulling you up to your feet.

before you could even muster up a “thank you” they wrapped their arms around you— one around your back, one around the back of your head.

they realized their actions just a second too late, but when they felt your shaking, fearful hands wrap around them, their grip only grew tighter.

“it’s… it’s okay, (name). i’m here. i always am. don’t be scared.”

LEANDER — MONEY

“it’s on me!”

“leander, i got it—“

“no, ma’am. i insist.”

and he’d shoot you that same shit-eating yet charming grin that made you sigh, silencing your protests. if you wanted to buy anything at all and leander was within a distance, forget about even thinking about your wallet. this man will let you buy nothing with your own money.

matter of fact, if you show the slightest interest in something, you’ll suddenly find it fully paid for and in your hands.

the amount of things you have that aren’t even bought with your own money is starting to get concerning.

when you’re sitting at the counter of his bar and you ask to start a tab for yourself, he just smiles at you, laughing in such a way that brings a heat up to your face.

“oh, sweetheart… why you even ask for a tab still is beyond me.” he would smile as he slides your drink across the table. the pet name he uses throws you off just enough to have you not deny him paying for your drink.

“leander,” you start with a sigh, “you cant just buy me everything i want, y’know..”

he cocks his head in seemingly honest confusion before he grins. “oh? but i can, (name). money isn’t something i want you to be worrying about. or spending on anything.. as long as im around, that is.”

when he sees that you have something new that he didn’t buy, he’ll even get pouty. he loves to see you with things that he bought that are now all yours.

“(name)… how’d you get this?”

“i bought it myself.”

he’d groan like a child, resting his chin on your shoulder as he talked, arms wrapped around the front of you. “(name), please. my money and i are right here always, you don’t need to be spending so much money.”

“but, it was onl-“

he shushed you, shaking his head. “i dont care if it was one cent or a thousand dollars, sweetheart. why don’t i just give you a little weekly allowance of spending money, hm? it’ll make me happy.” he smiles innocently, yet you raise an eyebrow.

“leander, i’m not your sugar baby.”

“you’re not?” the childish, teasing fake sadness in his eyes make you laugh, shaking your head.

“no, i’m not. i’m your girlfriend.”

“oh…” he trails off, grinning. “girlfriend, sugar baby… same thing, you know..?” his voice is teasing and so is his grin, yet he still looks so damn handsome.

this man will never not be spending money on you.

[bunsiesblog]

How To Care for Your Stray Hero

Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Japan's #1 hero finds himself on your fire escape, again, needing some TLC from his favorite girl.

tags: vigilante!deku, aged up midoriya, romance, domestic fluff, smut, finger sucking, dry humping, clothed sex, lap sex, praise kink, two emotionally constipated idiots in love

5.7k words

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A slight rattle could be heard as he landed on your fire escape. You wasted no time padding over to the window, pulling your curtains aside to reveal your hero.

Your tired hero.

The vigilante hunched over, breathing slow and heavy. His costume was tattered and torn. Even more so than when he last saw you. It was caked with dirt. Possibly blood? His own, you couldn't be entirely sure. Darkness hid his eyes. The mask he wore gave a metallic ring to his breath.

Midoriya looked downright terrifying.

You pushed your window open, leaning through the frame to get a better look. The hero didn't move away from you. Not even when you reached out to him. Or when you gently pushed back his hood.

His verdant curls are what you see first—soft waves and ringlets draped over his forehead. Then his eyes.

Oh, those eyes.

Dark circles had been painted under them, exhaustion rooted deep into the orbs. Midoriya appeared to struggle to meet your gaze. Almost shamefully, he settles to stare at the floor. Your hand pauses for a moment—but only a moment—before you gently cup his cheek and guide his head upward.

No words were spoken. They didn't need to be. He worked so hard to push everyone away. He knew the dangers and risks of coming here to be with you—even if it's for a single night. Midoriya couldn't help but be selfish.

You were his little secret and his alone.

He tried not to take advantage of your kindness. Every visit, the time between when he would see you again just got longer. Some form of self-punishment. You knew he was a stubborn man. He knew it, too. You pushed him just enough without making him feel guilty, though.

The warm light of your apartment surrounded you. It practically begged the worn vigilante to come in. You looked like an angel, a goddess showing kindness to a weak and tired man. The pilgrimage to see you was wrought with pain, villains, and isolation—a path he had no regrets walking down.

"Come inside." You say softly.

His chest flutters at the sound of your voice. Your hand moves from his cheek down to the yellow scarf wrapped around him. With a gentle tug, you guide him into your living room.

He follows you wordlessly—obediently.

He shuffles into the living room, which looks to be too small for him. Midoriya's towering frame has become the centerpiece in your rather homely and tiny apartment. It was almost amusing. You shut the window as he idly stands by.

You take a few silent steps towards him. Now that he is standing, there is no doubt that he is much taller than you. His figure oozes strength and power, although his crestfallen expression tells you just the opposite.

You stand on your tip-toes to unclasp his mask. But you can't quite reach around to undo it completely. The vigilante dipped forward–-his face coming close to yours. He could have just as easily taken it off himself, but he wanted you to do it.

His green curls tickled your cheek, and you could hear his tinny sigh in your ear. With a simple click, you pulled it off of him. Midoriya's warm breath fanned against your skin.

Tossing the mask to the side, you begin unraveling the yellow cloth. Your hands roam down the expanse of his strong arms, which feel tough and firm under your fingertips even in this relaxed state. They keep traveling until they meet his hands. You hold them up to your eyes as you pull one glove off—finger by finger—and again with the other.

Despite how injured his limbs are, Midoriya can still feel the softness of your skin against his. You hold the large and calloused hands. Without much thought, you press your lips to his scars. His body stiffened at the feeling. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears as you placed tender kisses on his healed-over wounds.

You always found his hands attractive. That was not a secret between either of you. Midoriya couldn't wrap his mind around it, no matter how often you explained it…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Can I see them again?" You asked.

He looked at you with a slightly bewildered expression. But he obliged you anyway. Midoriya always had a hard time denying your requests. He offered you his hand, palm face up. You eagerly took it within your own, holding it delicately.

The crooked fingers and mangled skin were evidence enough that he could withstand a bit of mishandling. Yet, with everything you did, it was always gentle. As though he might break under your touch.

"I've been learning how to read palms, you know." You confide in him.

His brows raise in interest. It wasn't so much as a fun fact you thought to let him know. Moreover, you implied you would read his palms—whether he liked it or not. Not that he would complain.

"Really?" He says, watching you intently. "What do mine say?"

"Well, this line right here. See how it's long and curves this way? I can tell that means you are someone who overthinks. You get a bit in your head, but you are methodical. It's deep, so that means you must have a great memory." He tenses as your fingers drag along his palm.

Midoriya wonders if it's true. If just by looking at a line on his hand, you can tell all of that.

"What else?" He urges you to continue. Truthfully, he didn't particularly believe in stuff like this. He had his ulterior motives—mainly to keep your hands on him.

"This one is your heart line. And it says—oh my," Your brows furrow as you look closer. A tone of concern laces your voice. Midoriya leans forward, too, wanting to know what you see.

"What? What does it say?" He asks. You look up at him and smile a little.

"It says you are loved by many. You're really popular with the ladies. You must leave a trail of broken hearts wherever you go, huh?" You tease.

His cheeks redden, mostly from embarrassment. Almost no one would describe him as a lady's man. Flirting wasn't exactly his forte. Even though he tried to do it with you, he was pretty hopeless. He was lucky enough that you found his attempts endearing.

"Ok, I think that's enough palm-reading for tonight." He says, trying to pull his hands away.

Your grip tightens around him, unwilling to let go quite yet. His eyes widen just a tad at your strength.

"I'm not done with your hands yet. I'm still admiring them." You say matter-of-factly.

He says nothing in response. Midoriya watches as you continue to fiddle with them. Kissing every fingertip, every knuckle, every scar. They were strong, firm, and rough. And yes, while his fingers were crooked and his skin was defaced, you only found them all the more attractive.

He pulls away to cup your cheek. The warmth of his calloused hand practically envelopes the side of your face. You lean into his touch, placing your hand over his own. Midoriya runs his thumb across your lips.

Without thinking, you part them and bring his finger into your mouth. The sudden warmth and wetness make him pause; all he can do is watch you. Your tongue drags along the pad of his thumb before curling around it. The vigilante is keenly aware of your every movement.

His mouth slightly parted. A blush dusts his cheeks, and he instinctively licks his lips as he studies the sight before him. The heat and softness your muscle offered made his cock stir. He couldn't help but imagine you on your knees. Midoriya relished the eager and lust-filled look you had on your face. You took pleasure in the flustered expression he had donned himself…

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You moved on from his gloves to the red compression tape that wrapped around his arms, slowly unwinding it and letting it fall to the floor. Following that were his belt, his leg braces, and his shoes.

One by one, you peeled them off until only his suit remained. He watched you from the corner of his eye, primarily focused on the painting you had hung up behind you. You fiddled with the hidden zipper, looking up at him with doe-like eyes.

"May I?" You inquired.

You always sought permission when taking off the final piece of his costume. He nodded his head, turning around to give you better access. Midoriya loved it when you asked. He couldn't place why. But hearing the question made his body flush with heat. It didn't go as smoothly the first time you tried to remove his suit.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There was blood everywhere. You knew it before you could see it. The bitter smell hung heavy in the air, the metallic taste ruminating on your tongue. The green suit became dark with the ichor that gushed out of him. With all these layers, you couldn't possibly tell where the wound was.

He lay barely conscious on your couch. The only sounds coming from him were groans of pain. You didn't ask. Midoriya didn't seem coherent enough to answer anyway. Plus, why else would he stumble into your living room if not for your help?

Wasting no time, you fingered around for the zipper. You began to pull down until a firm hand gripped your wrist. With a jump, you looked into his eyes. The moans had stopped, and he stared straight into your soul.

Clearly, he didn't want you to continue with what you were doing. Right now, it was a battle of wills. And you were willing to bet you could take on the badly injured hero.

"Let me help you." You asserted.

Midoriya paused for a moment as though he were deciding whether to let you or not. Now wasn't the time for the brooding, self-righteous attitude. It was no secret that he was stubborn. Thankfully, you were equally so. He winces as another wave of pain courses through him. His grip loosens on you just enough for you to get to work.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The suit rolls off of him. The fabric folds on itself as you bring it down. It reveals a masterpiece of pale, bruised, and freckled skin. It's pulled tight around his muscles, revealing a body sculpted from marble.

Now he's standing in your living room except for his underwear. Piece by piece, you had taken off his costume. Chipping away at the vigilante Deku until all that was left was a man underneath.

That was the rule when he came over. The outside world didn't matter. His names, titles, responsibilities, everything. It got left behind on that fire escape. It would still be waiting for him by the time he leaves in the morning. But at least for a few hours—for now, he could be a normal person seeking the comfort of another human being.

You walk around him, a hand dragging along his torso as you observe the damage. It looked like he had a few more scars than when you saw him last—mainly bruising, though. It brought a strange relief to you.

Midoriya instinctively wraps his hand tightly around yours when you offer it. You guide him towards your bathroom, opening the door and standing beside the frame. You offer him the privacy of showering alone. However, more recently, he has gotten into the habit of dragging you along with him.

He stands in the doorway, looking into the sandy-themed bathroom. There is a pause. You can see the gears in his head twisting as he tries to decide. His green eyes flick to you, who is already staring him down to see what he would like to do.

"Clean up. I'll make some dinner for us." You suggested.

He almost looked pained at the offer. Like you had kicked a puppy. Midoriya must have really wanted to shower together.

"Don't give me those eyes!" You couldn't help but laugh.

There was no doubt he was intentionally pulling at your heartstrings when a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was barely noticeable. Unlike the swell of your heart, which demanded your attention when you caught sight of the smirk.

"Katsudon?" He spoke finally.

Oh, his voice.

You grinned and pushed him into the bathroom. "Coming right up!"

You shut the door, giving him some much-needed privacy. Walking into the kitchen, you began your endeavor to make dinner for the both of you. It wasn't quite dinner per se, considering it was almost midnight. But a warm bowl of pork cutlets, eggs, and rice was always welcome. Just as you began to slice up the fried pork, you heard the soft padding of feet behind you.

Midoriya's lumbering frame stood close. The warmth of his body pressed against you, the smell of soap clung to his skin—your soap. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he leaned forward to look at your handiwork. It was now that you realized he was still in his towel, which was tied loosely around his hips. His green hair held a much softer curl while wet. It dripped onto your shoulder, and you squirmed.

"Hey! You're gonna get the food all wet." You tried to reprimand.

Your body wiggled, trying to push him away. It only served to have him hold onto you tighter. His hand sneaked past to grab a strip of meat and pop it in his mouth. Midoriya moaned softly at the crispy texture and savory flavors that coated his tongue.

"So good." He complimented, resting his chin on your shoulder.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. It was such a slight sound that had a resounding effect on you. Clearing your throat, you tried to refocus on the task at hand.

"I left some clothes on the bed for you. Go get warmed up. Dinner will be ready in a minute." You suggested.

Midoriya hummed in response, giving you a tight squeeze before departing to the bedroom. You let out a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding. Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. If only he knew the full extent of his effect on you. You served up the bowls and moved over to the couch. Your apartment was too small for a dining table.

"When did you get these?!" He exclaimed from your room.

Midoriya came trotting out wearing cotton All Might pants. You twisted around to see him positively beaming at the sight. His green eyes brightened in a way you only saw when he was stuffed deep inside—

Your cheeks flared up, and you turned around to face the TV. "Just a few weeks ago. It's nothing—I just wanted you to have something comfy to wear when you were here." You stuffed your face with rice, failing at getting the inappropriate images out of your mind.

Midoriya smiled at the thought of you going about your day and picking out something for him. Thinking of him. The image made a warmth spread across his chest. His rough hands tenderly rubbed over his heart, hoping it might help it slow down. He walked over and stood before you, waiting for your undivided attention.

You peeked at him through your lashes, hastily swallowing your bite to speak. But before you could even get the words out, he bent over, bringing his face close to yours. His thumb swiped across your lips to brush away a grain of rice as he gave you a soft smile.

"Thank you." The gesture made you swoon, catching a glimpse of the confident and heroic Deku in the moment.

It made you suddenly nervous and hyper-aware that you didn't have just any man in your apartment. You had Japan's greatest hero. Deku. Who had millions who adored and feared him. Who single-handedly protected the nation. It had been a long time since you felt…nervous around him.

These secret rendezvous have been a part of your life for some time now. You had gotten over yourself long ago and had grown to see him as more than his costume. But rare moments like these seemed to bring it all to the front of your mind.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Deku rushed towards you. Your body trembled, your feet welded to the concrete. And despite how much you yelled at yourself to look away, move, and run…all you could do was helplessly stare at the defeated villain crumpled to the ground.

Death was so close. So close you could still feel his cold hand on your shoulder, primed to take you at a moment's notice. An eternal and unforgiving nothingness waiting to greet you. Memories, feelings, life…all snuffed out by the whim of a selfish villain.

"Hey…look at me," Midoriya's metallic voice commanded.

You couldn't even do that much. Stuck in a repeating loop of torture. It pained him to see you this way. That he had come so close to losing you. That he couldn't protect you. And if he had come even a second later—

He tried not to think about it. Instead, he reached out and gripped your shoulders before pulling you tightly to his chest. The motion snaps you out of your daze. His broad body practically enveloped you as though he could shield you from any danger. His hand rested on the back of your head, and you buried yourself into his chest.

"You did good. Lasting as long as you did until I could get there. I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You had stopped watching the show a while ago. Old superhero cartoons the two of you had repeatedly seen were much less interesting than the actual hero sitting beside you.

He sat with his legs splayed wide, taking up a good portion of your loveseat. His muscled arm draped over the back of the sofa, lifting his tee to show a hint of a v-line. His other held you firm to his side, drawing lazy circles on your arm. And his eyes. The forest held within them seemed to sparkle with amusement.

This was him. Izuku Midoriya.

Not the hero holding Japan together. Not the vigilante striking fear into villains. Just…Izuku. And he was all yours. For the few hours you had him tonight, at least.

He noticed you staring and tilted his head to look at you. His heart skipped under your curious gaze, but he nevertheless swallowed his nerves to speak.

"Do you want to watch something else?" He asked.

The hero studied you as you moved to sit on his lap. His heart began to buzz against his chest, making itself known. Almost like a dog excitedly wagging its tail.

Your oversized shirt lifted to reveal your soft thighs to him. And it was now he realized that you weren't wearing any shorts underneath. Not because he couldn't see them. But because he could feel your warmth through the thin fabric of your panties.

The hero swallowed thickly, deciding to look up instead of down. But he found himself caught in your inquisitive gaze. He tried to maintain his composure but still felt a familiar heat flush up to his cheeks. Midoriya clenched his hands, the blunt nail digging into his calloused palms.

Being intimate with you was nothing new, but the way you looked right now was sinful. Your head tilted curiously to the side. He noted how your hair cascaded with the movement. His eyes flicked to your lips, which had been parted and curled almost into a smile.

Don't look at the lips. Don't look at the lips.

He tried to resolve. So he ambled up over your rosy cheeks to meet your eyes. Which held nothing but absolute adoration for him. He reached up to the collar of his shirt and tugged at it, a poor attempt to cool his warm face. Midoriya relented and let his head fall back, unable to keep his eyes on you anymore.

Truthfully, it didn't matter where he looked. Every part of you served to be the object of his desires. From his innocent daydreams to the most salacious thoughts. It was not that long ago that Midoriya had taken a hit square to the jaw as he inconveniently remembered just how beautiful you looked sprawled out underneath him.

"Earth to Izuku." Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

His ears twinged pink at the realization he had gotten lost in thought.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"Welcome back, Space Cadet." You teased, poking his forehead with a playful smile. Something about you was so infectious that he could hardly suppress his own. "There's that million-dollar smile. I was wondering if I'd get to see it tonight."

He rolled his eyes, leaning back into the softness of the couch and letting his hands rest along your thighs. You admired his casual look: how his hair curled around his face, how his eyes observed you, the flash of his pink tongue as it swiped across his lips, or the endless freckles that dotted his cheeks.

Izuku was incomparable. And it was any wonder why he picked you to spend the occasional quiet evening with.

You leaned in close, cradling his face. He felt his skin go hot at the sudden intimacy. But he still refused to pull away.

"W-what are you—"

"Shh, I'm counting your freckles." You interrupted.

Midoriya blinked. You were so cute; it practically pained him. The hero quickly became pliant under you.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked.

Your brain seemed to go haywire at the question, and your cheeks blossomed upon realization. You flitted your gaze between his green eyes and his lips. And then you nodded—not before completely melting his heart.

"Pretty please?" You replied.

His scarred hand reached up to the curve of your face, guiding you towards him. Your heart thrummed in your chest, and you leaned in to kiss his lips chaste. Izuku peered at your lips. And before you could ask for another, he was already pressed to kiss you again.

And again.

And again.

He noted how soft your lips felt—even as you hungrily took everything you wanted from him. Midoriya was happy to let you get away with it. So long as he got to have you just a bit longer.

Your hands ran up the expanse of his chest, fisting the cotton underneath as you desperately yearned to be closer. His hand came up to your neck, fingertips brushing against your jaw as his thumb rested against the column of your throat.

Your tongue dragged across his lower lip, teeth gently biting and pulling at it for entry to the rest of him. He sighed at the feeling, letting you take all of him and more.

He brought the hand resting along your neck down your front, gently pawing at your chest. He murmured into your mouth at the plushness of it. His finger dragged over the fabric of your shirt, firmly swiping over your nipple, which elicited a sharp inhale from you.

His fingers expertly teased you. Thumbs rolling across the sensitive buds, pinching and pulling at them over your clothes.

He loved nothing more than drawing out your whines and moans, learning the way your body reacted to him. Midoriya nearly whined himself as you pulled away from the kiss. But it was quickly swallowed as he watched your fingers hook around the hemline of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal yourself to him.

He practically drooled. Exercising every bit of self-control not to defile your chest, which sat so pretty in front of him. No. He wanted to admire them first before he lavished them.

Izuku cupped your breasts, enjoying how they seemed to bounce with every movement. His fingers sunk into the plush skin, giving you a tender squeeze. The pads of his digits rolled over your nipple. He noted how it pebbled with the movement, perking up just for him. Instinctively, he wrapped his lips around and swept his tongue across it. You inhaled sharply. And he could tell just how much you had enjoyed it when your back arched into his mouth.

"Just like that~" You praised.

Your fingers tangled in his mess of green curls. Izuku hummed against you, the vibrations suddenly making you whine for more. His cock steadily stiffened, twitching up to your clothed heat. The hardness pressed against you, mixed with the attention of Midoriya's mouth, hazed all of your senses with lust.

You raised off of his lap, and he almost seemed to frown. He wasn't done with you. Nevertheless, he rested his hands on your waist, waiting to see what you would do. His shaft bulged against the loose fabric of his pants. Midoriya's cock pressed up against his abdomen. You would surely see his pink tip if the waistline had been tugged down even a little.

Before he could ask what you were doing, you aligned yourself with his thick member and sat happily on it.

The thinness of your clothes did little to hide how you felt to each other. His shaft placed neatly between your lips, making your panties soak up your wetness. Midoriya groaned and shifted his hips to give you a better angle to grind against him. He watched as you rolled back and forth. His tip occasionally peeked out at the movement.

You bit on your lower lip to stifle your moans. His breathing was heavy as he held onto your hips, holding you down to apply just the right amount of pressure to his dick. Izuku was beginning to wonder if this was pleasure or punishment.

He gripped you strong enough to hold you still, lifting you up so he could tug down the waistband of his pants. The vigilante sighed and let you rest yourself back on him. You slid up and down his shaft. His tip nestled neatly between your clothed lips and pushed against your clit as you rubbed against him.

Midoriya eagerly watched you, committing the sight of you to his memory. Everything you did seemed to take his breath away. The hero had accepted long ago that his heart was yours and that he would continue to make Japan safer for you.

You lifted up ever so slightly, pushing your panties to the side. His cock eagerly twitched at the realization he'd finally get to be inside of you. The blunt head rolled between your lips before pressing towards your hole.

Midoriya sighed at feeling the entrance happily wrap around the leaky tip. The sigh quickly turned into a choked groan as you suddenly sank down on him.

He nearly bottomed out from under you, a gasp as his hands flew to your hips to hold you steady. Midoriya was too embarrassed to admit he'd almost met his early demise. You whined at the fullness of him, his shaft thoroughly stretching you in a familiar burn you hadn't felt for quite some time.

"S-so good," he mumbled with a hoarse voice. "So good, my pretty girl," Midoriya praised.

Your walls seemed to flutter around him at the sweet name he called you.

"Say that again." You breathed, slowly moving up and down on his lap.

He groaned at the sensation, enjoying how wet and warm you felt around him. Whatever control he thought he had quickly melted away under the indulgence of you.

"J-just like that. My pretty girl," He voiced again, his hand shifting to place the pad of his thumb on your clit.

A jolt of electricity shot through you, making your soft walls clamp tighter around him. He groaned at the tightness wrapped around him. At the same time, you whimpered at the pleasure of his thumb lazily stroking you. You continued to ride him, touching his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

The slow and languid pace was borderline torture for him. The way your pussy squeezed his cock as you lifted your hips. As though your own body didn't want to let him go. You took your sweet time fucking him. As if you had all the time in the world.

His head fell back, soft moans escaping from his parted lips. Meanwhile, you rode the vigilante at your own happy pace. You enjoyed seeing him like this. Relaxed and at ease. Lost in his own lust. Having forgotten about everything else. Completely enraptured by you.

He felt your movements quicken, becoming sloppier as you tried to get closer to your own end. Midoriya adored the sight of you drunk off of him, using his cock for your pleasure. He couldn't stop himself from reaching forward and pulling your face into his for a desperate kiss. You could feel him smile against your lips. And he drank up the moans you spilled into his mouth.

The hero gripped the back of your thighs, holding you steady as he turned the both of you over so he could be on top. The ease with which he carried you turned you on much more than you wanted to admit. You knew he was strong. But in small moments like that, he made you realize just how capable he is.

Your legs spread for him in response, eager to have him back inside of you again. He couldn't help but grin, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. Midoriya untied the drawstring of his pants, kicking them off before moving to slide your ruined underwear down your legs.

"So wet for me. All for me." He sighed, unable to keep himself from you anymore.

His lips crashed into yours as his cock plunged into your core. Midoriya set a relentless pace into you that made you whine and cry. The hero was never rough with you. But he would happily drown under the riptide of pleasure you gave him--bringing you down with him.

"F-Fuck," Izuku staggered out, his hips rolling into you. "Y-you feel so good." He admired.

This was his favorite part. Seeing you come undone by him. Lost to your own desires, only able to see him. Think of him. He loved how his name sounded when it came from your lips. Midoirya didn't know if he liked it more when you were begging for or praising him.

Your mewls only served to push him closer to his climax. So, he angled his hips in a way he knew would finish you. His hot tip pressed to your g-spot with every thrust. A cry tumbled from your lips. And you desperately grasped at him as your body became weak against the overstimulating pleasure he pushed into you.

"W-wait, Izu--fuck," You stammered, your body begging for a reprieve.

You whined, an electrifying heat pooling in your abdomen. The words could barely come out before he happily drew out your orgasm for him. Your walls clamped down on him, keeping his cock firmly stuffed deep inside of you. He moaned at the feeling. His head fell forward, his curled hair covering his eyes.

He wanted to pull out. He tried, but your cunt just felt so warm he never wanted to leave. And like you could read his mind, you permitted him. Not only that, you had practically begged him to do so.

"I-inside…I need it inside," You pleaded, your legs pulling him into you. Midoriya groaned, practically falling on top of you as his final thrust sputtered inside you. It was better than seeing you painted with his cum. The way your walls milked every drop from him. Claiming you in a much more intimate way.

"Fuck." He grumbled, which sent shivers down your spine. His heavy body seemed to relax against you, resting his forehead on yours as you both tried to catch your breath. Midoriya's green eyes had fluttered closed, the curl of his lashes brushing against his freckled cheeks.

And you had to bite your tongue from telling him you loved him right then and there.

The relationship, if you could even call it that, was a delicate dance the two of you tip-toed around. Never quite saying what you meant. You knew that his country, his work, being a hero--came first. And he feared that saying the obvious part out loud only solidified putting you in danger.

The simple truth was that when you two were intertwined as you were now, holding on tightly--afraid to let go. The words didn't need to be said. Two hearts that beat in sync knew the truth.

You gently kissed his cheek and smiled as he returned the gesture, delicately pressing his mouth to your face and neck. With your arms encircling his shoulders, he carried you tenderly towards your room. And as he lay down beside you, he drew you close. There was little you could do about how your heart fluttered at having your hero beside you again, even if it was for a single night.

"Izuku?" You mumbled, pressing your face to the crook of his neck.

"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes already closed as he drew lazy circles on your arm.

"I missed you."

Midoriya's heart buzzed from your affectionate words. And there was a pause in the air as he thought of what to say next. Miss was too simple. He didn't just miss you. He ached for you.

He loved you.

Your soft snores interrupted his thoughts. He pulled you in closer, holding you tightly.

"I missed you too," Midoriya smiled. As much as he didn't want to admit it, as much as he felt he didn't deserve you, he enjoyed these moments of domesticity—a peek at a different life—one where the fate of Japan didn't rest on his shoulders.

When you woke up, you knew the bed would be much colder without him in it. A note would have been left for you on your nightstand, the dishes from last night's dinner would have been cleaned up, and the clothes he wore would have been folded neatly.

He'd be long gone.

And you would happily wait forever for the return of your stray hero.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [15]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 14 | Fic Masterlist | Part 16

"I still don't understand why you had to creep around instead of just approaching her and introducing yourself properly," Jongho remarked, rolling his eyes as Wooyoung clicked his tongue in frustration, "Oh, come on! Can you blame me? She's so beautiful, I got nervous, alright?! I've never had to talk to her before, and I just... I panicked!"

The assistant squinted at his friend, "You do realise if the general catches wind of any of that, you'll be out of a job. Don't tell me you have a crush on our mistress..."

"And you don't?!" The private investigator squeaked, eyes widening in disbelief as Jongho shook his head, unamused, "That's inappropriate. Don't you ever suggest such a thing again."

Wooyoung kept his mouth shut, realising that his friend would be the last person interested in hearing him gush about how pretty he found you. He was fully aware that you were his employer's wife and therefore off-limits. Still, it wouldn't hurt to indulge in the innocent fantasy of being a secret admirer.

Besides, he still valued his life, and it wasn't as if he was actually in love with you or anything. Deep down, humans are all visual animals, and he found his tiny crush on you completely justifiable.

Turning serious, Jongho inquired, "So, what did the mistress need help with? She's been secluded in the study ever since Prince Yeosang's departure and hadn't spoken to any of us until you showed up. Something must have happened."

With a smug nod, Wooyoung responded, "Ah, it seems I already know more than you. How does that feel, senior assistant Choi?" His grin disappeared when the younger man did not react as expected, only staring him down intimidatingly, as if daring him to continue with his playful shenanigans, "Ugh, fine, sheesh. The fourth prince invited her to his birthday banquet happening next week. She's really anxious since it's her first royal event and without General Park. She wants guidance on dealing with the royals."

Head shooting up at the revelation, the assistant knitted his brows together in concern, "The fourth prince... invited her to his birthday banquet? Did he say why?"

The private investigator shrugged, a hint of nonchalance in his tone, "He mentioned that since General Park is away, he hoped Lady Park could represent him this year."

A troubled expression clouded Jongho's features as he processed the information, his mind racing with possible implications. The idea of His Highness extending such an invitation seemed out of the ordinary, sparking unease within him.

Noticing the younger man's troubled demeanour, Wooyoung nudged him on the shoulder, concern evident in his voice, "Why do you look so bothered, man? What's on your mind?"

Jongho's stomach churned as he mulled over his thoughts, his voice tinged with apprehension as he responded, "I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been any of the other princes. But Prince Yeosang? He hasn't hosted a single birthday banquet in years. And besides, his connection with the general is minimal at best. So... what do you think he wants with our mistress?"

That revelation made the private investigator sit up straight, suddenly grasping the complexity of the situation. If what his friend said held true, it meant the fourth prince was plotting something. A surge of protectiveness for you washed over him, wanting to ensure your safety and not let his role model down.

Turning to the assistant, he asked, "Damn, I don't like the sound of that. So what's our move? Should we warn her?"

Jongho shook his head adamantly, "Absolutely not. She'd panic, and that's the last thing we need. I'll fetch the dressmaker; he's one of the general's closest friends, and along with Physician Jung's help, we'll try to figure this out."

"Oh, one more thing!" Wooyoung interjected, grabbing the younger man's attention, "Lady Park did mention that it would be great if she could somehow get in touch with Royal Secretary Choi. It seems she believes he's the only one who can offer helpful advice for navigating the royal event."

Pondering this information quietly, the assistant nodded, "Fortunately, I've corresponded with him on behalf of the general several times. I should be able to reach him easily."

Jongho furrowed his brows, noticing the unsettled expression on the investigator's face, "What's bothering you now?"

Wooyoung sighed, his expression clouded with uncertainty, "The lady also expressed her doubts about whether the royal secretary would even consider helping her. She's unsure if someone as busy as him would take the time to assist her."

Shaking his head, the assistant offered reassurance, "Don't worry. Royal Secretary Choi is genuinely one of the kindest people you'll ever meet. He shares a friendship with the general and will certainly lend a hand to our mistress if she needs it."

That would soon be clear to them all when San arrived to grace everyone in the general's estate with his presence in just a few days, leaving Hongjoong, Yunho, and Wooyoung in awe as they watched the handsome man with an exceptionally fit physique—perhaps a little too fit to be a mere secretary—walk past the three of them, who were sitting in the living hall, with a respectful nod and courteous smile.

Jongho exchanged knowing glances with them as he ushered the royal secretary into the estate and towards the study, where you awaited his guidance with your studies.

"Am I the only one who thinks that guy seems more suited for the battlefield than the royal office?" Wooyoung quipped, prompting a reluctant nod from Hongjoong. For some inexplicable reason, he found the private investigator mildly annoying, almost like a younger brother, "As much as I hate to admit it, you're right about that. He does give off that vibe."

Yunho, known for his wisdom and maturity, offered a shrug in response, "We shouldn't judge someone solely by their appearance. Perhaps the royal secretary excels in matters of intelligence rather than physical strength."

Rolling his eyes, the dressmaker fired back, "Obviously, we're just joking. Lighten up a little, Yunho, or you'll never find a wife with that boring ass attitude."

The physician pursed his lips at the jab, while Wooyoung watched with amusement as the banter between the two friends unfolded, "Says you? You're older and still single. Perhaps the problem lies closer to home."

Hongjoong scoffed in disbelief and placed his hands on his hips, "Excuse you, I'll have you know there are plenty of women vying for my attention every day. It's not my fault I have standards."

"I could say the same." Yunho retorted.

Before the banter could escalate, Jongho intervened with a heavy sigh, "I leave for a minute, and you're already arguing. How is it that all of you are older than me?"

"I agree, assistant Choi. Their behaviour was rather immature," The investigator remarked, feigning innocence when the doctor raised an eyebrow, "You're the one who instigated the whole thing."

Just as Wooyoung opened his mouth to defend himself, the assistant rubbed his temple wearily, "Oh my god, enough. Let's not forget why we're here today—to figure out the intentions of Prince Yeosang regarding our mistress."

"Is that the purpose of this gathering?" Eunsook queried as she appeared by the entrance of the living hall.

The four nodded in confirmation, and the head maid sighed before joining them, "If that's the case, I believe I may be of help. I was with the mistress in the palace on the day the master discovered he had to depart for war. Something happened with the prince while we awaited the general's return from his emergency meeting."

As she recounted the incident at the cherry blossom garden, a dawning realisation settled over all of them. Suddenly, it all clicked into place: why Yeosang, known for despising his own birthday due to its reminders of his painful existence, was now planning a celebration and extending an invitation to Lady Park, of all people. It was clear to the group that the prince had set his sights on the general's wife, and this elaborate scheme was likely his attempt to lure you away from Seonghwa.

"I understand we're all concerned about what His Highness might attempt to win over our mistress, but I believe we should have a little faith in her. Her devotion to General Park is undeniable. I don't think she would easily forsake him after all he's done for her." The physician suggested, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

As the others visibly relaxed with the reminder, the dressmaker appeared to be the only one still troubled, "Yeah, about that..." The dread in the room heightened at Hongjoong's uneasy expression.

"What is it?" Jongho inquired cautiously.

With a frustrated expression, the eldest man among them ran a hand through his hair before recounting the recent encounter with Jinjoo, your stepsister, and the doubts you were starting to entertain about your husband, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault."

The elderly woman's stomach sank at the revelation, but she shook her head to reassure the dressmaker, "No, Hongjoong, it's not your fault. You couldn't have known her stepsister would be there. No matter how much we deny it, the truth has a way of surfacing. We can't hide it from her forever."

The others nodded in agreement, though filled with worry at the implications. They knew Eunsook was right. Eventually, you would likely discover the truth. They just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, especially with Seonghwa away at war. The thought of you being possibly swayed by the fourth prince's charms sent shivers down all their spines.

Well shit, that's not good at all.

"San, you're an absolute lifesaver. Thank you so much." You expressed with gratitude after the lengthy crash course he had just given you on dealing with royal figures when attending such events, offering a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

Returning the smile, the royal secretary noticed the fatigue and stress evident in your expression. He sensed there was more to your distress than just the fourth prince's sudden invitation to his birthday banquet. Perhaps his close relationship with his elder sister had sharpened his perception of women's emotions.

Observing your troubled expression, San gently inquired, "Are you feeling quite alright, Lady Park? If you're worried about the general, I can assure you that he is being partnered with only the best military strategist in all of Joseon. They have yet to lose a single battle thus far, I'm sure this time would be no different."

A wave of conflicting emotions washed over you at his words. On one hand, you appreciated his attempt to ease your worries about your husband's safety. On the other hand, a nagging curiosity gnawed at your mind, Jinjoo's words still lingering, urging you to delve deeper into the mysteries surrounding your family's punishments.

San's position as the royal secretary and his close friendship with the general made him an ideal source of information. Surely, he would know the intricate details of the case and could provide you with the answers you sought. However, the thought of uncovering the full truth filled you with trepidation.

What if reality's more than you could bear?

You wrestled with your inner turmoil, unsure of whether to broach the subject with Royal Secretary Choi. Part of you yearned for closure, to finally understand the events that took place without your knowledge. Yet, another part hesitated, fearing the potential consequences of unearthing Seonghwa's carefully buried secrets.

As you glanced at San, who was patiently awaiting your response, you grappled with your decision. Would you dare to confront the shadows of your fears, or would you continue to dwell in uncertainty, afraid of what truths lay beneath?

To hell with it.

Taking a deep breath, you responded, "Thank you for your reassurance regarding my husband's capabilities. However, that's not precisely what's weighing on my mind..."

He arched a curious eyebrow, intrigued by what other concerns could possibly be bothering you besides Seonghwa's safety, "I'm all ears, my lady." He offered, inviting you to share your thoughts.

Lowering your head, you recounted your recent encounter with your stepsister and the unsettling doubts it had stirred within you. Then, with a hesitant tone, you inquired, "May I seek clarification from you regarding my husband's role in the Jang family's punishments?"

San maintained a composed smile, betraying no hint of shock at your revelation. With a calm demeanour, he laced his fingers together before him, "I empathise with your concerns, Lady Park, and I want you to know that they are valid. While the details of the case are confidential, I can offer some clarity to ease your worries."

You held your breath as he continued, "The truth is, His Majesty was responsible for determining your family's physical punishments, but the general took charge of overseeing the entire process."

So, it's true.

Your heart sank at the confirmation.

"Understandably, you may find his involvement frightening. However, you need to know that this has always been the nature of his job. If you think him cruel, remember that every drop of blood shed was in service of this nation's security. He's doing what only a few have the guts to do. And in this case, it's out of love for you that he was determined to ensure that those who harmed you and your mother faced justice. My lady, can you truly fault him for that?"

His words struck you like a boulder, and you realised he might be onto something.

The royal secretary grinned as he observed your expression, knowing his words were making an impact, "Besides, you've been here long enough to witness how good he can be to those he cares about. That includes you, all the staff in this estate, as well as his loyal friends currently seated in the living hall. Surely, there must be a good reason why these people choose to remain by his side, wouldn't you agree?"

Noting your silence and contemplative expression, San understood that you needed time to digest everything. While he hoped he had made a valid point, he knew that your conflicting emotions wouldn't dissipate so easily. Nevertheless, he had done his best to encourage you to keep an open mind and speak the truth.

Ultimately, the next steps were up to you.

"As much as I'd like to stay and chat, I have another appointment scheduled in an hour, so I should probably head to my next destination." He announced, rising from his seat opposite you.

His words snapped you out of your reverie as you got up after him, "Ah, yes, of course. I can't thank you enough for everything, San."

As you escorted him towards the exit, he smiled warmly at you, "You're most welcome, Lady Park. Don't fret too much about the royal event next week. I'm sure you'll do splendidly, especially considering you've already managed to impress the fourth prince. He's not an easy royal to handle, so that's quite an achievement."

Prince Yeosang is... not easy to handle?

Before you could ask him to elaborate, the royal secretary was already boarding his carriage. With a defeated sigh, you waved at him as the vehicle began to pull away.

Heading back inside, your mind reeled from his words. His Highness had never seemed difficult around you, so you struggled to comprehend what San meant. Besides his slightly playful demeanour, you didn't find the prince hard to handle in any way.

Before you knew it, your head began to throb with the endless thoughts swirling around. Eunsook rushed over in concern when she saw you swaying, your hands pressed against your temples.

"Mistress! Are you feeling alright? Oh dear, you look exhausted," She exclaimed, her worry evident in her voice, "That's enough studying for today. Go and rest. I'll bring you dinner when it's ready."

Throughout the rest of the week, Jongho and the others couldn't bring themselves to warn you about the potential advances of the fourth prince. They noticed how visibly stressed you were, dedicating all your time to refining your ladylike etiquette and practising formal speech with the head maid. Your determination for perfection in your debut at a royal event was clear as day.

After receiving all the help you needed, you were finally ready for the banquet. Standing before the mirror, you inspected yourself, admiring the delicate red flower the dressmaker had once again helped you paint on your forehead, perfectly complementing your new hanbok, "Are you pleased with the look, Lady Park?"

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely, Hongjoong. You never disappoint, and you know that."

With newfound confidence, you departed from the general's estate, accompanied by Jongho and Eunsook. Mentally reviewing the list of potential royals in attendance, you appreciated Wooyoung's efforts in the past week as he assisted you with retrieving specific books from the public library and studying the royal family tree.

The private investigator lingered near the estate's entrance after seeing you off, his jaw slightly agape. He had always found you pretty, but seeing you all dressed up and with the flower on your forehead, he was struck by your ethereal beauty. Just as he was about to entertain the thought that Seonghwa must have saved an entire country to deserve someone like you, he realised that might actually be true.

"Excuse me, Jung Wooyoung. That's not your lady to be ogling like that. Behave yourself, or I'll have to whoop your ass on behalf of the general." Hongjoong warned, rolling his eyes as the younger man pouted before sulking back inside the estate.

As your carriage approached the familiar high palace walls, Jongho and Eunsook exchanged determined glances. They had agreed to stick by your side at all times, wanting to protect you from whatever schemes Prince Yeosang might have planned for the event.

"We've arrived, mistress." The assistant announced as the carriage came to a stop.

With the head maid's assistance, you stepped down from the carriage with slightly less ease than when your husband carried you, feeling a pang in your heart as you were reminded of him. Despite your complicated feelings, you couldn't deny the longing for his presence. You hoped he was safe and well while you attended the birthday celebration of another.

Approaching the grand entrance of the hall hosting the fourth prince's birthday banquet, you noticed that the palace staff responsible for announcing guests had recognised you immediately, sparing Jongho the need to introduce you. As you reached the entrance, the staff announced in a loud voice, "Miss Jang, eldest daughter of the former Minister of Military Affairs, has arrived."

Your shock was palpable as the announcement rang out, your eyes widening and your stomach sinking at the unexpected introduction. The last thing you wanted was to be associated with your father, especially not at such a prestigious event. You had been specifically told by the prince that you were here to represent your husband. So why would they announce you like that, using your past title, when you now held a new and official one as the general's wife? The discrepancy left you feeling uneasy and out of place as you stepped into the grand hall.

What's the meaning of this, Your Highness?

« Preview of Part 16 »

"General Park! Letters for General Park!"

The messenger's urgent cry echoed through the camp, drawing attention to the main tent where Seonghwa typically conducted his affairs between battles. Bursting into the tent, the messenger gasped for breath, his eyes darting around, "Sir, may I enter?"

"Come in," A deep voice replied, but it wasn't the general's. Officer Song, the military strategist, sat alone inside, his gaze fixed on the newcomer, "General Park is uhh... preoccupied elsewhere at the moment. What brings you here, soldier?"

Handing over the stack of letters he carried, the messenger answered, "The general has received a few missives, one from his assistant and another from His Highness, the fourth prince."

Mingi's brow furrowed in confusion, "The fourth prince?"

The messenger nodded vigorously, "Yes, His Highness mentioned it's regarding an urgent matter and should be delivered to the general as soon as possible."

Officer Song nodded in acknowledgement, "I see. Leave it to me, soldier. I'll ensure it reaches him as soon as he's available."

As soon as the messenger departed, Mingi's curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unfolded the letter from Prince Yeosang. His breath hitched as he absorbed the concise yet weighty message. The prince started off by conveying gratitude for Seonghwa's service to the nation and extended well wishes, reassuring him not to worry about returning.

However, the content took a surprising turn with his final paragraph.

'Out of respect for you, I am writing to inform you that I will be proposing to Miss Jang. I believe she deserves the freedom to choose her own husband. Perhaps what she needs is someone who can remain by her side and not cause her any worry. If you truly care about her happiness, you would understand.'

Once again setting the stage for the main event HAHA sorry for the (sorta) filler chapter, but I promise there will definitely be drama in the next part.😈

Also, thank you so much for 1.3k followers! As always, thank you for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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[rebelssvy]

personal trainer ✧.* part three

ushijima x reader

⋆·˚ ༘ *

LABELS: AFAB READER smut, sex, eating out, fingering. you guys go on a date he comes back upset and fucks you. finally part in my personal trainer fics.

note: omg i loved this. it’s a little longer but ughhh ushiii

maybe it was the way his body craved you. somthing snapped when he chose to walk into your office that day. ever since you two kissed you hadn’t left his mind. not for a single second.

he took you on a date. it was fancy, it was out of your league. you appreciated the gesture but it just wasn’t your environment.

ushijima couldn’t tell what had you off that day. but he could tell you didn’t like being there.

he started overthinking about everything and your date was short lived. he assumed you didn’t like him and your feels were a one day type thing.

oh he was so wrong.

the two of you found yourself in his car.

“i’m sorry for taking you. i’ve overstepped my boundaries. i’ll take you home now.”

your mouth dropped. was somthing wrong? did he not like you anymore? did he think you didn’t like him?

“i’m confused ushijima.” you stated in a sturn voice.

the two of you sat in his car, it was cold. you were wearing a long dress. despite all the fabric you were still cold.

“you didn’t seem interested.” a tiny bit of insecure caught in his speech.

“i like you ushi.” you said stating what you thought was obvious.

his eyes burned wholes into your body.

“prove it then” he said while tilting his head to yours.

his gaze lingered on you.

you stared at him, he turned his attention back to his car and put it in drive.

about one minute into the drive, you had gained enough confidence.

without warning, unbuckling your seat belt, you leaned over bringing your lips to his neck.

you felt him shift underneath you, groaning at your action.

you kissed his jaw, and neck. making quick work of what you were doing.

sucking and nibbling on him, catching the hitches in his breath.

“y/n…” he said in a strained breathy tone.

you kept on ignoring him.

choking out the words he says “i’m driving..”.

you stopped what you were doing and sat back against your seat. staring forward.

it was obvious that he was looking at you.

he shrugged then moved his gaze back on the rode.

pulling into your driveway, you opened the car door. getting out, he was still sitting there.

“you aren’t gonna come in?” you asked him. you wanted him to. badly.

“do you want me to?” he asked.

“i do.”

“ok.” he got out and walked you to your door.

you unlocked it and walked into your dimly lit house.

you motioned him in, he stood behind you as you closed your door behind you.

when you turned back around, ushijima captured your lips in a kiss. pressing your back up to the door you just closed.

it was passionate, nothing more.

he moved back breaking the kiss. you still leaning against the door.

his stare lingering on every part of you. locking on to your collar bone and the area below it.

“fuck..” he muttered. eyes not leaving you.

he comes back for a second kiss, this one so needy. his hands traveled your body, toying at the fabric of your dress.

“i need you… now.” he said lips still against yours.

this time you break the kiss and grab onto his hand. dragging him to your room.

looking at him, he was absolutely radiant.

all black button up, dress pants and dress shoes. a light chain around his neck, nothing flashy.

you lead him into your door way. he stopped and you continue onto your bed. sitting at the end of it.

he took his time walking over to you. looking around at your space, but his focus was on you.

he brought your face to his for a shared kiss. it was lingering. yearning. passionate.

you broke apart, craving more. he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

they traveled everywhere. making efforts to make you feel something in all places.

you moaned at him touch.

finally you swapped positions with him, you standing and him on your bed. it was his doing as well.

you could see his hard on through his pants. rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. using the little friction you had to get yourself off.

he grazed his own hard on infront of you, bringing a hand to the bulge.

“strip.” he demanded. you stood unknowingly.

“c’mhere” he motioned out. spreading his legs so you could stand inbetween them.

he took his time with you. slowly taking off your dress. the straps coming off your shoulders, then coming off your cleavage.

to his surprise, you weren’t wearing a bra. his eyebrows raised and he looked up at your face. he looked excited, cheeks flushed.

he looked like he was waiting for you to say something.

“you can do whatever you want to me.. ushi..” you. whispered quietly. just for him to hear.

he nodded, then furiously took both boobs in hand. toying with them, he squeezed, and massaged them. he moved to one side, taking your nipple in his mouth. he lapped around the bud.

you moaned at his contact. he took a hand and slipped your dress all the way off. the only thing you were left in was your undies and jewelry. shivers ran down your spine from the cold.

he stopped what he was doing and stared at your body. you were vulnerable. almost fully naked and he still had all his clothes on.

“your so beautiful.” he said.

he sat you on the bed, now he’s standing. he took his clothes off. not looking your way… was he insecure?

there’s no way. he was stunning.

“hi.” you said up to him to get his attention.

“hi,” he looked down at you, eyebrows tensing.

“what’s wrong?” you asked

he dropped his shirt off now he only hand on boxers.

“can u.. close your eyes for a second?” he asked you.

you were confused? does he not want you seeing him?

“i want to try somthing on you. just please.. close your eyes.” he pleaded.

so you did. you hammered your eyes shut.

you felt his hands all over you, he set your back flat on the bed. moving you all over your bed. you didn’t know what spot you were at now.

then, his hands disappeared. you almost opened your eyes from the no contact. but you kept them closed.

the new thing you felt was a kiss on your thigh… right next to.. your..

your eyes shot open. your underwear was still on and he had just kissed your clit. you moaned, unexpectedly.

you didn’t say anything, he didn’t say anything either.

he waited for you to tell him to get off you. but when the words never came, he went in for more.

laying an opened mouth kiss on your core. underwater soaked.

your back arched into him, eyes coming to a close again. you moaned.

“can i?” he sat up, gesturing to your underwear.

you nodded, shy.

he slid your panties down, off your feature. gaping at your core. his mouth open, slightly.

you waiting for his reply. he started to chuckle, a low chuckle.

“i told you to keep your eyes closed.” he stated bending back to his former position.

“yea well- oh. oh my god.” his tongue lapped you up. licking every spot on your. moving his heat, his nose pressed against your clit.

you moaned out his name, hands grabbing his hair.

you felt sensitive. almost like you were already there.

his mouth latching on to your clit. his fingers prodded at your entrance.

one sliding in, he kept his tongue working on your heat.

pumping his finger in and out, your back arched farther into him. his finger curled into your sponge like insides.

bringing another finger into you, it was all too much.

you were going to snap any second now. you tried warning him. but you couldn’t find the words.

he knew he must have, his fingers pumped in and out of you with the intent for your to cum.

“ushijima!” you moaned. orgasming, it was vulgar. your body shook. you mumbled out thank u’s and how that was so good.

“your not done yet baby.” he said now coming onto his knees. his bulge prominent in his underwear.

he pulled his length out of his underwear. giving it a few good pumps.

your mouth dropped. he was big. he was large. it made sense, he himself was big. so now he was also big.

your brain spiraled. clicking back into place when he laid his cock on your stomach.

balls pressed up against your soaked cunt. cock on your tummy. he was drinking up the sight.

“you can take it. your a good girl i know you can” he challenged you. you shook your head yes.

he slowly pressed himself against your folds. you moaned at the contact.

“fuck…” he groaned.

painfully slowly, he pumped himself into you. bottoming out. he groaned.

he let his body fall, holding himself up in his arms. you were face to face with him.

you leaned up, kissing him. his cock stilled inside you. he leaned down, arms buckling a little. but not enough for his weight to crash down on you.

he kissed you, a passionate kiss. both your tongues fighting for dominance. you brought your arms around him. drawing circles into his back.

something about the contact makes his brain go fuzzy.

his cock pistoned in and out of you. his hips snapping into your pelvis with quick pace. your mouth, still on him, dropped open. moaning into his. he groaned.

“fuckkk” you mumbled. if this was how he was gonna fuck you. you weren’t gonna last long.

he felt your pussy choke around him. pulling him back for more.

“you like that?” he asked, but it sounded more like a statement. he moved his head to your neck. kissing and pulling against your skin. creating hickies that marked you as his.

it was really too much. you had already came. you couldn’t do it again. fuck.

one of his hands found your clit. rubbing harsh circles into it.

that was all you needed to fall of the edge. back arching, moaning out.

“ush-! fuckkk” he fucked your brainless. through your climax. hips snapping, but pace slowing.

everything was a blur. your brain was fuzzy. you felts like seeing stars.

“fuck that was hot.” he stated. pulling his cock out of you. you groaned at the missing of him. you felt powerless.

“your not done yet thought baby.”

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

-ERMMM was that good???? lmk. please send me recs!!!! thank u everyone

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[w4ndal0ver]

Members Only (Agatha x Reader) [Part 3]

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: milf!tennis!agatha x student!lifeguard!reader

summary: When Agatha notices you've been watching her play tennis every day from your lifeguarding chair, she offers you tennis lessons, an offer which you can't refuse.

content warnings: making out topless, toxic agatha again, possessive, thats about it

word count: 2500

Members Only (Agatha x Reader) [Part 3]

You woke to your alarm the next morning, yawning loudly as you didn’t think you’d managed to get much sleep that night. You’d spent the entire night replaying every moment of your encounter with Agatha in the bar, the possessiveness in her voice, her jealous grip on your arm. There was no doubt that everything in your head had shifted, and god she was your Mother’s best friend, and here you were about to head to work for another lesson, and you had no idea whether the lesson was going to be for tennis or something else. You were still trying to process it when a sound from outside pulled you from your thoughts. 

A soft knock. 

Then the rustling of a package being dropped outside your bedroom door, your mother too busy to deliver it to you herself. You sat up in your bed, heart racing as you glanced at the time, it was way too early in the morning for post. 

Your curiosity got the best of you as you reached for the parcel, neatly wrapped in brown paper, the shape of it unfamiliar. There was no return address, just a single letter written in elegant, cursive handwriting: A. 

Your mind spun as you tore open the package, unwrapping it carefully. The first thing that caught your eye was the pristine, white tennis skirt. It was exactly like the one Agatha had worn, tiny, form-fitting, and undeniably revealing. Beneath it lay an expensive-looking tennis racket, wrapped in its protective cover. You ran your fingers along the smooth handle, the quality of it sending a thrill through you. 

But it was the note inside that caught your attention most.

“See you at 6pm. – A”

You giggled to yourself, your breath catching as a wave of disbelief washed over you. You had to be dreaming, right? Agatha? Sending you gifts? You stared at the note for a moment, processing what it meant, and then shrugged.

With a small smile, you packed the new tennis outfit into your gym bag, your mind buzzing with thoughts of what the evening could hold. Whatever it was, you could already feel the excitement building in your chest.

The rest of your morning was a blur as you got dressed and headed to the country club. The anticipation of the evening, and the outfit you would be wearing, made it hard to focus on anything else.

You took your usual spot on the lifeguard chair, the pool spread out beneath you as the day slowly heated up. You checked the time: nearly noon. It would be another couple of hours before Agatha showed up for her tennis game, but you couldn’t stop your eyes from drifting toward the courts.

And then, there she was.

Agatha stood in the middle of the tennis court, her back straight, her posture perfect. Today, she wore a different tennis skirt, just as tiny as the one from last night, and her legs, toned and strong, moved effortlessly as she warmed up. But it wasn’t the elegance of her form that made your pulse race; it was the deliberate, almost exaggerated way she moved, knowing you were watching.

She bent down to pick up a tennis ball, her skirt riding up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of her toned thighs. Your eyes followed her every move, not just because she was beautiful, though she was, without a doubt, but because you could feel the performance in the air. Every bend, every stretch, every subtle motion seemed like a challenge, an invitation, a promise.

Your gaze lingered on her for far too long, your breath catching in your throat each time she looked over in your direction. You caught her eye once, just for a moment, but it was enough. Agatha knew. She knew you were watching her.

Your heart rate quickened as she turned back to her opponent, playing with precision and speed, as if she were flaunting it for you, her movements becoming sharper, more calculated. Every time she bent to retrieve a ball, it felt like a small tease. Your gaze never strayed far, and though you tried to focus on your duties, it was impossible to keep your attention off of her.

There was something undeniably magnetic about her, something that seemed to pull you in deeper each time she glanced in your direction.

Your shift ended as the sun began to dip low in the sky, painting the horizon with pink and orange hues. You made your way to the locker room, your mind racing as you thought about what you’d be doing later, what Agatha had planned for you. The anticipation only made your heart beat faster.

The room was quiet, and you knew that there wouldn’t be anyone around. The few others who worked at the club had all finished their shifts. It was the perfect opportunity for you to try on the outfit you’d been given.

You quickly peeled off your lifeguard uniform, leaving it in a heap on the bench. Your new tennis skirt slid on easily, hugging your hips perfectly. You gazed at yourself in the mirror, a mix of excitement and self-consciousness flooding over you. You tugged at the hem of the skirt, knowing it was short, probably a lot shorter than what you were used to, but there was no denying that it felt good.

As you adjusted it, you caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of your eye. Your heart stopped.

Agatha. 

She was standing there, just inside the door, watching you with an unreadable expression on her face. Your body went cold, the sheer shock of her seeing you topless, in the tiny skirt she’d given you in the middle of the country club's locker room. 

“Agatha!” You yelp, instinctively pulling your hands around your chest, trying to cover your breasts in a desperate attempt to not embarrass yourself further. 

“You look perfect.” She purred, stepping closer. Her voice was so deep, so smooth, you could almost taste the tone of it, her words lingering on your lips. You couldn’t help but try to cover your body further, but Agatha was already stepping towards you, her eyes hadn’t once met yours, instead they remained firmly on your covered chest. 

Her lips parted slightly, her voice lowering as she approached, “Do you really think you need to hide from me.” Despite her reassurance you were frozen, unable to form words. Her presence was overpowering, her eyes on you so full of intent it was almost suffocating. 

“I said don’t hide.” Agatha ordered, her hand lifting to gently remove yourself from your chest. You gasped as she pushed it aside, her fingers trailing down your arm as she stepped closer, “I want to see you.” 

Her eyes glazed over your body, and you could feel the heat in your chest, in your cheeks, between your legs. She was taking her time in admiring you, almost getting drunk in the sight before her. She still had a grip of your wrists, this only tightened around you as her eyes looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes, then back to your chest. 

That's when she kissed you. But it was more than that. She was devouring you. Her lips crashed with yours, pulling your wrists above your head as you were pushed against the tiled wall of the locker room. She was possessive, pulling you into the kiss with a sheer intensity that you weren’t sure if you’d even taken a breath. She pulls your lips between her teeth, biting down hard enough to make you wince before softening the blow with her tongue, dragging it along the indents her teeth had made. 

You melted into her, one hand keeping your hands above your head as her other hand brushed accidentally against your chest, your nipples hardening to her touch almost immediately. You’d kissed people before, but never like this. You knew at this moment you would do anything to have her. She felt your body react, this time purposefully brushing against your hardened nubs, over and over again until you couldn’t help but whimper into her mouth, earning you a small chuckle from the older woman. 

When she finally pulled back, there was a huge glint of satisfaction in her eyes. She wanted nothing else but to corrupt you, she wanted to make you hers and mould you exactly how she wanted you. She could tell that you were desperate, she could practically feel the heat radiating from between your legs. You were silently pleading for her to feel how wet she had made you, gather your arousal and drag it across your lips, letting you taste how desperate you are for her. She could see it in your eyes, begging to be touched. 

“You’ll have to impress me first.” She said, her tone teasing, but there was something darker that had replaced the softer tone she had spoken with yesterday. You smile bashfully as you grab your top, actually wearing the full outfit before she spanks your ass in a silent way to get you to hurry up and follow her out onto the courts. 

The sun hung low on the horizon as you found yourself standing in front of the tennis courts again, the new racket in your hand, the freshly fitted tennis skirt making your legs feel exposed. You hadn’t dared question Agatha's desire to dress you up, but you couldn’t even deny to yourself that you were enjoying it. 

Agatha stood on the opposite side of the court, watching you with a smirk playing on her lips. Her posture was perfect, relaxed, but there was an edge to her gaze that was making you unable to focus. The gaze, and the aching between your legs. 

“Let’s see if you can keep up this time,” she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation.

You nodded, trying to steady your nerves, but her gaze was like a flame, setting you on fire from the inside. As she tossed the tennis ball into the air and hit it over the net, you instinctively ran to meet it, racket in hand. You swung, but missed. The ball sailed past you with ease, and you winced, frustration building.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, her lips curling in a teasing smirk. “Not a very good start. You need to focus, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed at her words, her sarcasm cutting through the air with ease. You wanted to impress her, to show her you were capable. But every time you swung, every time you tried, the ball either flew past you or landed awkwardly in the wrong spot.

Agatha wasn’t letting up. She was all focused now, and her presence was making it harder for you to concentrate. Every time she called out corrections, she was right there, her body close enough that you could feel her breath on your neck as she adjusted your form.

"Don't just swing, darling. You need control." She was behind you now, guiding your arms with hers. Her fingers slid over yours, her breath warm against your ear as she spoke, the proximity making your pulse quicken.

“Move your hips. Pivot.” Her voice was soft now, but there was no mistaking the way she spoke, like she was trying to teach you something more than just tennis.

With each correction, her body was closer. Her hands were on you more. And the longer you stood there, trying to concentrate on the lesson, the harder it was to ignore the growing heat between your legs, the way your body responded to every touch.

Agatha watched you carefully, her eyes never leaving you. She was in control. And you? You were struggling. You felt like you weren’t improving at all, and the more you failed, the more agitated she seemed to become.

“I told you,” she said, her voice low and cold now, “Focus. Do you want to impress me or not?”

You couldn’t stop yourself from muttering a soft curse under your breath, frustration and embarrassment burning in your chest. You gripped the racket tighter, your fingers beginning to ache from the tension. You missed the ball again and you could feel the rage inside of your building. 

“You’re not even trying.”

With that you threw the racket to the ground, sighing in exasperation and defeat. This didn’t go down too well with Agatha. “Pick it up.”

You did as she said, bending down seductively in front of her, knowing that the curve of your ass was visible to her, and you swear you heard a moan escape her lips, but you weren't sure if you’d imagined it. 

“Throw the racket again, and you’ll regret it,” Agatha warned, her eyes narrowing. There was a hardness in her tone that made you freeze.

You quickly adjusted, trying to focus on her words, on the way she was guiding your body with hers. But you were growing more and more flustered as the lesson went on, her every movement, every touch, driving you to the edge.

When the lesson finally finished, Agatha’s eyes softened, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You did better than I expected,” she teased.

You nodded, grateful for the praise, even if it felt faint in comparison to the tension that still lingered in your chest.

“You need to cool off after all that?” Agatha asked, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite decipher.

“The pool’s closed,” you muttered, your mind still foggy from the lesson, from everything that had just happened.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling up into a grin. “Well, mine isn’t.”

And with that, she took a step closer, her eyes locking with yours.

“Come with me,” she said softly, her voice a low invitation, a promise.

The words hung in the air, thick with implication. The pull between you two was undeniable now, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.