#though they have a really good time eventually
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I remember getting into a heated argument with him over this issue, actually. (Adding a cut because this went on longer than I intended)
I was struggling with a very condescending and belittling client for about five or so months and eventually what he (client) said got to me more than usual. I don't remember the exact comment, but it was something along the lines of "you force yourself to be perfect and yet you're never good enough." Needless to say, I was pretty devastated.
So anyway, I went to Lambad's, probably gave myself liver problems during the... four hours I was there, I think? Per usual, Lambad had to call Alhaitham to come pick me up because according to him I had drank so much I was talking to the chair across from me thinking it was Cyno. Why him, I don't know. Maybe because it was around that time that he was, contrary to popular belief, the first person in our friend group to figure out that I had a massive crush on him (I hate using such childish terms, though.)
I woke up the next afternoon with a searing hangover, and if anyone knows me, they know I get really, really cranky when I'm like that. I walked over to my desk and... this is embarrassing, but I threw everything off the desk in a fit of rage directed at the client, my inability to please clients, and myself. Haitham walked in thinking I had fallen out of bed and instead saw me breaking down. The conversation went something like this:
Him, standing in the doorway: "So, are you still drunk, or are you just unable to control your emotions even when sober?"
Me, sitting at the now-empty desk with head in hands: "Shut up. What does it matter to you, anyway?"
🌱: "Because one, you interrupted my downtime. Two, I heard your tantrum through my soundproof earpieces. And three, I had to see if I needed to have you pay for damages to the house."
🏛️: "Oh, boohoo. All you ever have to worry about is money this, annoyance that." (Why did I ever say that?)
🌱: "As if your career isn't drawing boxes and lines. You're the most famous architect in Sumeru yet you don't own your own home. How sad."
Then, for some stupid reason, I threw a pen at him and yelled, "You have no idea how hard I work every single day and every single night just trying to make the clients happy. But no, they go and tell me no matter how hard I work, I'll never be good enough! Then there's you, who makes a huge salary without ever hardly moving from your desk! So of course I'm angry. Of course I'm going to let it slip!"
🌱: "Well, do you believe them?"
🏛️: "What do you think?!"
I don't remember what he said after that, I just slammed the door and left. Then it started raining hard and he pretty much dragged me home. I asked why he even cared, and he said to use my brain. ("...or are you that dense?") Those were pretty much the conclusions I came to, except for the one about my father. @ags-haitham You did what?! /lh
He probably meant what he said in the best way, though. Either way, I'd rather have petty arguments like this than be without him at all.
"but what does he REALLY want with me?" my brooo, kaveh, Alhaitham does care about you just trust me, i'm the bedside lamp 😭
inspired by daikyto9
#i cancelled the commission after he said that#but kept the money#investments and advance payments and whatnot#it would have been a hassle to go through refunding him#and i deserved that much at least i think
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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.
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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.
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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?
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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.
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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.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#jjk x y/n#megumi fushiguro#fushiguro megumi#megumi#fushiguro#fushiguro megumi x reader#fushiguro megumi x you#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro x you#megumi x y/n#megumi x reader#megumi x you#fushiguro x reader#fushiguro x y/n#fushiguro x you#megumi fluff#megumi angst#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen megumi
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thank you for blessing us with your Lilia fics 🥹🫠
Here, have another. - Rip x
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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙍𝙤𝙨𝙚
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
(Lilia Calderu x Fem!Reader) (Song Fic; Fluffy; Character Study; Angsty; Love Confession) (~3.4k words)
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There was a time once in history when Lilia Calderu wanted to be a performer.
She sang the songs and recited the rituals of her coven, she honed her voice for incantations and for spells, and when the time came for her to grow up, it was rumoured that her talent was so strong, so steady and intense, that even the goddesses could hear it. For a while, it made her popular. The girls loved to listen to soft lullabies before bed, the superior witches enjoyed her singing at their events, even her maestra, at times, asked for a little tune to help get her through the rest of the evening. Most nights, when everyone was already fast asleep, Lilia would lie awake in her bed and try to picture a life of free vocal pleasure. A life where she could be an adored witch and an even better performer, one with the light feet of a dancer and the voice of an angel. A woman so good she could travel the continent, go beyond Sicily, see the fruits of the world, and be loved by all for what she could do.
It was, for what was really such a short period of time, a lovely existence. Then, gradually, unexpectedly, and terribly, her life began to pause and resume out of order, transporting her to versions of herself she had yet to meet. And though she did see those unfamiliar places, the world beyond Sicily, she was never faced with the loving, excited crowd. Most times, it was pitchforks and threats, angry faces of strange men and women, children with teary eyes, and licks of fire cast toward her body. She had never seen such fear in her life, never felt hatred so strong it seemed like a physical presence, and after a short while, Lilia Calderu realised that instead of becoming a beloved singer and performer, she was destined to run and hide for most of her life.
It came as no surprise that when the gaps got so powerful, so frequent and so bad that sometimes she didn’t remember an entire day, the coven lost their combined interest in her talent. It fizzled out and eventually became a secret kept to herself. A faded myth that some girls chattered about to newcomers. The only person who heard her sing from that point forward was her maestra. The old woman didn’t care for Lilia’s reputation, she only cared for her talent. Both within magic and outside of it. So sometimes after their lessons, unpredictably to keep Lilia on her toes, her maestra would request a song. On one afternoon it would be a ritual tune, on another it would be a chant, and some evenings she asked Lilia to sing something–anything–just so the two of them could enjoy a bit of peace.
And so Lilia would sing. She would sing, sing her heart out, and she would watch the way her maestra closed her wise eyes and swayed back and forth to the sound of Lilia’s music. Those moments in her life were the ones most cherished. When she closed her eyes, they were just as vivid as the day she experienced them for the first time: the soft waves of the ocean kissing the shoreline and the great rocks of the coast, the setting sun nearly over the horizon, filling the atmosphere with great wisps of pink and purple-tinged stratus clouds, the air smelling of whatever the cooks had prepared for supper. Her maestra in her chair, tipping her head back, enjoying the lilt of Lilia’s voice until she faded into silence and the old woman opened her eyes, straightened her posture, and gave Lilia only two claps before rushing her off inside. She could picture their moments in the garden just as easily, the birds and the wildlife scurrying in the underbrush and the burrows and the trees, the smells of rich forest plants, vines, and flowers, the way the sun reflected off of the gazebo’s carved stone pillars, the familiar comfort of the bench whenever she sat down across from her. It was a unique paradise, a home she understood she would never have again.
And a community she would never have again.
Once the coven forgot about her voice, she mainly used it for herself. On slow walks around the grounds, she would hum, during her soaks in the bath, she would whistle, and whenever she had a moment alone in a secluded place, a place of utter tranquillity, of silence and precious independence, she would belt. She would belt and she would croon in every key she could and she would do it until her throat hurt or it got too late or she couldn’t think of anything else to perform.
That’s why you never interrupted her singing in the shower.
It was loud every time, louder than the water and the washing, and it would reverberate off of the tiles and the mirror and it would hit your ears through the thin walls, but you never dared ask her to stop. You couldn’t.
No, not that you couldn’t because Lilia would most definitely stop if you wanted her to but that was just it - that was the last thing you wanted.
Lilia’s voice was polished marble. It was richer than sweet chocolate, huskier than the tang of whiskey, more gentle than the fur of a kitten. It was steady, it succeeded in its rhythm, its measure, its keys and its choruses and whenever you heard the shower curtain slide open and the water turn on, you knew to prepare yourself for a performance.
And always, without fail, it was a performance you got.
Sometimes it was a happy one, a joyous loud one where her voice went gravelly as she tried to emulate a rockstar. Sometimes it was an angry one, when she sang with a growl and a bite to her lyrics. Sometimes, most times, it was sad and melancholic, ringing and chirping like an operatic bird, and tinged with so much history and pain that you worried if she was as alright as she claimed to be. Perhaps, you thought, it was a form of therapy. That was her release. To spread the swirl of talent and desperation that built up in her body, eager to be revealed to the clouds, the cosmos, the world. It was her history, coiled up like springs, and every time she disappeared into that unique space of music, it was like they all burst up at once. History springing everywhere, bouncing from the tiles, painting the foggy air of the bathroom as Lilia stood beneath hot water and opened her mouth and released.
You imagined her there, shaking with the force of her own voice, closing her eyes, curls wet and plastered to the back of her neck, her shoulders, and letting the power take hold - not in a witch’s way but in a mortal’s way. In a way that spoke to centuries of pain, of wonder, of exploration. You couldn’t remember the moment she told you she liked her water scalding hot, but you never had a doubt as ‘steamy’ seemed to be the bathroom’s atmosphere whenever she walked out from a shower. The two of you mutually agreed to disable the second smoke detector in the flat that, for some reason, was on the ceiling in the same hallway and would have no doubt gone off every time Lilia wanted to wash up.
It was quite endearing to see her slip out followed by a gust of steam, sporting reddened skin and messy damp curls plastered to her head and neck. She looked like a wet puppy. A wet puppy that was very hard to look at, partly because she needed the privacy to get dressed but also because she often walked out in nothing but a towel. A single red bath towel, wrapped around the top of her bust that fell below her knees. The first time you’d walked into the hallway and saw that, you backpedalled into your room so fast you nearly fell and cracked your head open on the floor. It was embarrassing sporting a blush for the rest of the evening, but she didn’t seem to notice - or perhaps didn’t care.
And why would she? You were two women. You could be normal about things like that. About bodies and nudity and the curves of the female figure and the curves of Lilia’s body specifically.
Yes, absolutely. Normal. You could be normal.
You could be normal about the shower singing.
You could be normal when Lilia sang of love.
You could be normal when she sang of love in different languages like French and Latin and Sicilian and Greek and something else, something ancient, that you’d never heard before.
You could be normal when her voice dipped into a low husk as she cooed, emulating the style, the niche, of a beautifully dressed jazz singer in a dimly lit jazz bar.
You could be normal when she hummed something light and sweet beneath her breath, dressing her voice up as the garlands of Spring.
You could be normal when she poured her entire heart into a note.
You could be normal when she stole your mind away with a whistle.
You could be totally normal about things like that.
You could be totally normal about it all.
Totally normal.
Yeah.
Nothing but normalcy.
───༺༻───
You had a favourite song.
It was stupid. So stupid. You weren’t sure how you allowed it to happen, but it happened and because of it, you were screwed. Screwed. So stupid…
You had a favourite song.
She sang it the same way every time, with soft prolonged vowels and crystal clear tones, like windchimes and violins. She sang with heart, with soul, her tongue was fluid in the first verse, her inflection lilting and gentle in the second, and her mouth shook with power as she belted the third. A mezzo-soprano through and through you came to learn after looking it up one day (just another example of your foolishness).
You had a favourite song.
It was cold honey in her mouth, made for her voice, crafted for most of her range. For the sweet and soft, the careful and gentle, to the rough and loud, strong and courageous. She could roar and whisper, cry and laugh, be righteous and upset all at once. It was so moving the first time you heard it, the spoon you were washing fell right out of your hands.
Some say love, it is a river
That drowns the tender reed
A sharp breath. A trip of your body as your heart ran right to a stop.
Some say love, it is a razor
That leaves your soul to bleed
You’d heard her sing about romance before, in all possible forms and ways, but you never expected those words from her lips.
Some say love, it is a hunger
An endless aching need
They were familiar. You already knew them. You’d learned when you were young, when you still had the chance to sing with your mother, with your grandmother, and harmonise when you weren’t too shy. Granted, none of you could harmonise very well, but that wasn’t the point. All that mattered was how you knew it, sang it, together.
I say love, it is a flower
And you, its only seed
Your mouth moved with hers, only silence flowing from your throat, and you closed your eyes as your body melted against the sink. You followed her pause, her break, imagining the instruments there to fill the blank space, and took a deep breath when she continued.
It's the heart, afraid of breaking
That never learns to dance
It felt so nice to listen, to recognise the music and the shifts, and you pressed one hand to your heart so you could feel its beat as you heard. So you knew that it was still going, that you hadn’t died and Lilia wasn’t an angel singing you to Heaven.
It's the dream, afraid of waking
That never takes the chance
You’d never told Lilia about your music taste. You feared that saying anything would result in an accidental slip and that your soul would spill out before you could do anything to keep it inside. You couldn’t have that, you couldn’t ruin everything you built, so you sat in your songs and you listened to the ones she sang, remembering the lyrics and copying them into Google as soon as you had a moment alone. You connected in silence. You appreciated her compassion by listening at night, before sleep, and betrayed your heart by wishing she was there next to you to sing it rather than in the other room, already drifting away into dreamland. You wanted to cross the bridge, to bring your adoration up to her and put it in her lap and tell her how in awe you were, but you never felt like it was your place.
It's the one who won't be taken
Who cannot seem to give
Then she opened her mouth and sang out your childhood, the sum of your warm memories, and suddenly you were crying like a baby in your little apartment kitchen, looking around through a curtain of tears at everything you’d made together.
And the soul, afraid of dying
That never learns to live
Was it going to kill you? Keeping it inside? Telling yourself that being normal about Lilia, resisting the temptations of love, was better than being rejected? That’s never how the stories ended, did they? If no one confessed, then it was a life lived wrong. If things were unsaid, it was an opportunity lost. If you didn’t tell Lilia, then it was another dead end.
When the night has been too lonely
And the road has been too long
Oh her belt. Oh she way she sang. Harrowed, lost, speaking of times she was familiar with, loneliness that she knew like the back of her hand, a road she’d been travelling since the day she was born.
And you think that love is only
For the lucky and the strong
Something she never had, something she could never keep for herself, no love for Lilia Calderu because she was not lucky and she was rarely strong. She lived her life in pieces, luck was not a friend, and she ran from every place where she found solace, and strength was never a lesson learned.
Just remember in the winter
Far beneath the bitter snows
But that didn’t mean time stopped moving or stopped passing. It didn’t mean the world took love away on purpose. She knew this. She understood that life was meant to be lived a certain way, and that for her it was different. But who needed linear time when she had nonlinear time? Who needed order when she experienced the bits out of order, over and over, and found that still, in every space, in every world, she maintained her talent and her passion?
Lies the seed that with the sun's love
In the spring becomes the rose
Who needed desolation and exhaustion and hopelessness when hope was so strong? So eager to persevere?
Why did Lilia need to believe that she could not be loved if you were there to love her?
“Darling? What’s wrong?”
You were dry-heaving, clutching at your chest like it would stop the breaking of your heart, the cracks and the fractures, and you were so loud that you didn’t hear the bathroom door open. Tears made your cheeks warm and your breaths, your sobs, turned you red. The world was numb, only a collection of brief sounds, but Lilia’s voice, as it always did, pulled you back. She was blurry behind tears, but you looked at her anyway, pitiful and sad, and didn’t even bother to hide when she ran forward in her towel and tugged you into her warm arms.
“Did something happen?” She whispered, patting at your hair, doing all she could to soothe you, and you could only cry harder against her shoulder.
Smelling her shampoo, feeling the natural warmth of her soft skin, revelling in the grounding sensation of loose drops of water smearing from her hair onto your head and neck, unable to hold yourself back from wrapping your arms around her and holding on like she’d fall to sand otherwise. These were the things that made you break.
“I love you,” your voice was barely there, not even a whisper, as you spoke against her skin. “I love you.”
“What? What are you saying, honey? Speak up, baby, let me help you.” She sounded so worried, so pained, so shocked but determined to help, and you shook your head to rid yourself of fog.
“I love you.” It was a croak. “I love you.” A louder croak. Until you were repeating it into her shoulder, falling apart against her body, clutching her like a dead man to life. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you Lilia. I love you Lilia. I’m so sorry, I love you.” I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. It was all you knew. It was all you felt.
“I’m in love with you.” A huff of breath, a final stutter, as you swallowed harshly and sniffled and cleared your throat. Your eyes burned something fierce, still red and puffy and wet, but you kept them open and stared at the side of her neck when you said it again. “I am in love with you.” It was a shameful whisper, an out of place declaration, but you were overwhelmed and she was there to hold you and you felt like nothing else mattered in that little moment. Only your love for her. Only Lilia.
She was quiet. Her hands still moved, running along your back over your shirt, patting down your hair, resting her chin on your shoulder. She was quiet.
“Was it the song?” She whispered, and you nodded. “Was I too loud?”
“No,” you said too quickly, loosening your grip, preparing to move away, but Lilia didn’t budge. Not a single muscle moved. And so you held on again, surprised, and admitted softly, “You were perfect.”
She was still quiet. For a little while, that’s how it was. Your heart began its slow recovery, piecing itself together, readying the battle stations for the moment she properly rejected you, and you shook lightly in her arms while you tried regulating your emotions. And Lilia was still and quiet. Petting you, holding you, not worried at all about her towel or how much water was getting on the floor. You were going to mention it, going to try and move on from the moment so you could return to the way things were as if you hadn’t just poured your soul out to her like you always told yourself you wouldn’t, but then something happened.
Her throat moved against your ear, a light buzz, then a louder one.
“Lies the seed,” she sang softly, “that with the sun's love… in the spring… becomes the rose,” she trailed off, slowly, into a gentle hum, and your heart trembled, barely holding on, and you almost choked on your breaths when Lilia finally moved.
Her hands were gentle, detaching you from her, slowly pulling back so soft damp palms could move up to cup your cheeks. There was only one place to look, into those deep amber eyes, and you felt your expression crumble when you saw the quiver of her lips, the tears, the furrow of her dark brows, the way her curls stuck to the sides of her face. No makeup, no armour, no magic, bare for the world to see, open and vulnerable in a way never experienced, felt, witnessed before. You looked at her, stunned, and saw the fear and the hesitation in her gaze. She was so scared, so worried about the consequences, about what would happen if love once again only favoured the lucky and the strong. But the desperation lurked - the same need you saw in yourself. The knowledge that to keep it inside was to kill.
And why succumb to death when you could love instead?
“You are my sun,” Lilia breathed, raspy and gentle, her chest heaving with breath. Her cheek twitched like she wanted to smile, but you were frozen, and you could only look at her like a lost child. “And I love you.”
And she loved you.
And she loved you.
And she loved you.
Lucky and strong.
Your rose.
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The Rose by Bette Midler you will always be famous... - Rip x
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#rippersz#fanfictionwriter#ripleysresponse#fanfic#fanfiction#anonymous ask#anon ask#anonymous asks#lilia calderu#lilia calderu x reader#lilia calderu x fem!reader#Lilia agatha all along#Lilia AAA#Lilia calderu x you#x you fanfic#ask response with fanfic lel#madame calderu#agatha all along lilia#agatha all along#wlw fanfic#songfic#character study
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Hello! I've been reading your works and I absolutely love it 💖💖 you're actually the first few people who got me into this fandom, and for that I'm eternally grateful ☺
As for the ask, is it ok if I ask general yan HCS of both monkeys? Maybe with fem reader? NSFW is fine. Thanks so much and have a good day! ❤
OOoOOooOOkay! So Ima give this my best shot! Keep in mind I do more ‘soft’ yandere mainly because I do like me a bit of romance with my darker stuff. I WILL add some darker things at the end though!! (I don’t delve into yan often so bare with me 🫶🫂 I’m learning)
Keep in mind before proceeding this isnt your typical HC everyone :)! It’s going to have some Non Con/stalking/whatever comes to my mind. I went with whatever direction my brain was going so I hope this came out okay!
Warning: Yandere ideas
Destined One
At first you didnt notice anything different about him compared to anyone else outside of the obvious physical traits and some personality traits. He’s reserved, quiet, and focused entirely on his goals. His determination and strength is something that awes you to this day. Something you do notice about him though is that hes observant. Always taking note of his surroundings and using his senses to keep himself aware of what going on. When you first started traveling with him he seemed to almost…ignore you a bit. As though you weren’t really a scratch on his so called journey and mission. But over time you start to notice him staring at you and watching you. It’s a little intense but you just chalk it up to him being him, maybe he’s curious about his companion finally?
- [ ] He hadnt really thought much of you when you first joined him. It honestly took him a bit of time to realize he’d grown a bit….attached to you. His eyes always following your every move and his ears always listening for you. Your scent? He has that memorized.
- [ ] DO is going to start off subtle about his attentions towards you. He’s not going to be rash, unless something pushes him to it.
- [ ] He’s ALWAYS watching you. Always knows where you are and what youre doing.
- [ ] His feelings for you go from zero to almost 100 - although he’s silent about it at first. You’re going to notice him staring or even sometimes getting things you needed for you before you even knew you needed it.
- [ ] DO doesnt do things in half measures. He’s focused. Which means once he’s turned his attentions on you, ALL of him is focused on you.
- [ ] DO knows it’s wrong, but cant stop himself from doing some of the more…inappropriate things with you. Such as watching you while you bathe or change.
- [ ] *Non Con - He’s going to end up touching you while you sleep. Be it an accident at first (yeah right) or he just doesn’t stop his urge to do so. But he’s going touch you because you’re too inviting to him. He won’t go so far as full on sex, but you will be caressed and eventually as he gains confidence you’ll find marks you’re not sure where they came from. He’s going to decide the very first night his hands slip under your clothes that you are his.
- [ ] No one else will EVER see you or touch you like he had. Ever.
- [ ] He’s going to be hyper attentive to you, lulling you into this sense of “Aw he cares for me and takes care of me”. While YES he does, it’s also to further his own goal in regards to you. The foods he brings? Not every time, but sometimes might have a little something in them that makes you a little…sleepy. Pliant. So he can run his hands under your clothes or leave little marks on you without you making a fuss. Your body will NOT be afraid of his touch, he’s going to make sure of it. Sex is still something he’s reserving for…claiming you fully. For now, he’s going to take his time getting your body just used to his hands and the way he makes you feel with them or his tail.
- [ ] He’s going to manhandle you, sit you where he wants you and if you fuss he’s stubborn and won’t budge about it, using his strength to hold you where he put you, to the point you let him have his way because it’s not worth arguing over.
- [ ] You dont realize it but he’s also been scenting the hell out of you, your clothes, and even your bed furs. To you, it just smells like a combination of you, the forest, and of him - which you dont think anything of because he carries stuff for you a lot.
- [ ] But him scenting that stuff? It’s a very loud claim especially since it’s not just him rubbing his face or neck on the items….no he’s rubbing those materials around his cock and balls. Getting his musk all over it.
- [ ] On you, he will be a bit more subtle with his scenting. Wrapping a tail around you or brushing his hand through your hair or against you as he walks by. But sometimes DO shoves his hand down his pants, coating his hand or even tail in his musk and then rubs it on you. You are HIS.
- [ ] He’s jealous as all hell too and will make it known by how he behaves towards others in regards to you. Does NOT like anyone even looking at you, it makes him want to carry you off to some makeshift nest and KEEP you there, to prevent wandering eyes.
- [ ] Speaking of, as soon as his journey ends thats exactly what he wants to do. If he doesnt have a place in mind he’s definitely going to make sure he finds one. It will be the nest for the two of you. He will make sure he gets you everything you need so you wont need to go out.
- [ ] Before that though, he’s going to do everything in his power to make sure you know that you’re his and he’s going to make sure you dont want anyone else.
- [ ] When his journey is over, immediately youre thrown over his shoulder. He’s carting you off to your permanent home, away from any dangers or the possibility of someone stealing you away from him.
- [ ] Here is where he’s a bit more…demanding and forceful. See, by this point he knows your body wants him, he’s smelled and felt how wet you get for his touch and he’s seen your eyes on him. You’ve been slowly pulled into his orbit once he has you in his chosen space he’s going to have all of you.
- [ ] He’s not going to just strip you and shove himself in, no. He still wants to make sure your body is willing. So he’s going to be more bold and more obvious about his touches.
- [ ] Bathing alone? Not anymore. Changing alone? Nope. Unless he’s gone doing something like gathering food or a quick patrol, your body is for his eyes. He will let you have some modesty but he’s going to slip his hands under your clothes when he pleases and feel your soft warm skin.
- [ ] You’re going to be awake when his tail or fingers forcefully slip between your legs, he’s going to pull orgasms out of you until your awake conscious learns to relax for his touch like your sleeping body and conscious do.
- [ ] You wont be allowed to leave, he will make sure a clone is around you at all times if he cant be and when youre sleeping he’s wrapped around you, his limbs like vices.
- [ ] Your skin will be marked with his bites and some claw marks, not deep enough to truly harm but enough to remind you of him when he’s out of sight.
- [ ] He will slowly get you addicted to his taste as well, slipping a pre or cum coated finger into your mouth as you orgasm so your brain learns that his taste means pleasure.
- [ ] When he takes you he’s going to be gentle but firm, he wants you to feel good but also wont let you resist him. He’s CLAIMING you now. His fangs will bite into you, this time with the purpose to scar his claim on you.
- [ ] After this, he’s going to make sure youre always ready for him, is not above using a clone to keep you spread open and wet for him via cock warming or a prefucking. You will be molded to the shape of his cock.
- [ ] He’s also going to slip inside you when you sleep, waking you as he ruts into you or touches your body.
- [ ] Your body WILL know that his touch means pleasure, but if you resist he’s going to make sure you remember your place. He will be rougher with you. Wanting you to submit.
- [ ] He will always pamper you after, cuddling you and cleaning you. But his cum will remain inside you until he’s ready to help you wash it out.
- [ ] He’s going to make sure you are so reliant on him, his touch, his presence, and all he does for you that you wont remember that his possessiveness isnt normal, that he’d stolen you away without asking and that he continues to lay his claim on you.
- [ ] No, youre lulled into a sense of belonging with him….youre his to care for, protect, and take.
- [ ] All in all and in general, Destined One is a quiet but firm yandere lover. Only when you really push back/push his dominance does he get too harsh with you. Depending on WHEN he finds you will depend on how quickly he steals you away. But he’s going to take care of you, you are HIS mate and mates are to be cared for, protected. He knows it’s not exactly normal to keep you the way he does, but something in him wont allow for you to even have the possibility to consider someone else. He’s going to show you that HE is the best for you. That HE knows the best for you. He may be jealous and possessive but he wont harm you so much so that you would be repulsed by his touch. No, he wants you pliant and giving in when he reaches for you, relaxing in his embrace or even seeking his touch out. If you take your pleasure with out him, he’s not going to let you sleep, it will get to the point you will end up passing out and he will keep going. He’s going to take you again when you wake. Your pleasure is for him to take and give.
Wukong:
Wukong is…very friendly to you. He also is a very good, if sometimes annoying, traveling companion or protector. So you really don’t notice anything out of the ordinary with him in the beginning. By the time you do it’s honestly too late for you. He’s lulled you into his intricate web and there’s no escape from him. Because he’s had his eyes on you and what Wukong wants, Wukong gets. He also knows there is no one else better than him for you.
- [ ] He knows almost immediately after meeting you that he wants you. It’s not a normal ‘want’ either. It’s the kind of greed he that claws at him from the inside desperate to get out and get a hold of you.
- [ ] Wukong will temper SOME of his more…greedy tendencies down. At first. But he has a way about him that is very demanding and commanding. Being the King and powerful being he is.
- [ ] He has a way of making you feel comfortable around him, as though you belong by his side. He’s going to make sure you see HIM as your protector and someone to go to for help or anything you need.
- [ ] Wukong will be outright flirtatious with you, but he wont be overtly forceful with his touches right away. He wants to get you warmed up to him and used to his ‘casual’ touches. Something he does NOT do for others but you dont need to know that.
- [ ] He definitely disguises himself when you go bathing, be it a fish in the water or a bug flying about. He wants his eyes on you at all times. Yes, this means he may brush against you often while in his forms of trickery.
- [ ] Would absolutely disguise himself as a woman in a bathhouse if you went to one and offer to help you bathe. (He will fish for compliments about himself if you mention him traveling with you)
- [ ] Wukong is going to be manipulative in a way you dont even realize. He’s mouthy and cunning so he’s going to use his words to steer you in whatever direction he wants things to go in.
- [ ] He’s also very opinionated and stubborn, sometimes using that to his advantage to get you to submit to him with some kind of benefit after, be it something he gets for you or he’s just all around more pleasant. He’s subtle about it all at first.
- [ ] Everything will be orchestrated to his needs/wants even if it LOOKS like it’s yours, because in his mind he knows what’s best FOR you.
- [ ] You’re going to wear clothes he finds for you (will probably take your preferences into consideration because he wants you happy but will definitely get things that suit his taste too), you will periodically have to share his clothes (because he dirty’s yours on purpose or ruins them).
- [ ] He wants you to rely on him for most things, getting you food to cook, personal effects/items, etc. Essentially hes going to be a sugar daddy LMFAO but in a way that he’s not necessarily giving you money, he just gets the thing for you while you wait for him because he wants you getting used to HIM taking care of you.
- [ ] *Non Con - Wukong will definitely slip things at times into your food or drink, wanting to make you think your having lovely dreams about him but in reality he has you in his lap, your legs spread wide open, one over each of his knees as he’s caressing your body or filling your hole with his tail or fingers. The wet sounds filling the air while youre out of it. Come morning there wont be a trace on you - besides the ever present lingering scent of his on your skin thanks to how touchy he is in general. Through this he explores your body, getting it needy for his touch.
- [ ] He’s also going to cum on you while you sleep or will rub his precum on the inside of your panties so when you wear them you dont even realize what he’s done as its mixed with your natural discharge of fluids that end up on your underwear throughout the day. But HIS precum and scent is pressed directly against your pussy all day.
- [ ] Depending on the situation - he may steal you away right away or he might wait and bide his time, getting you to be relaxed with him before he takes you away for himself.
- [ ] Either way, once he has you to himself he’s going to get more intense. He may not penetrate you right away but he’s going to make you crave him, until you finally beg him to bully his cock into your hole.
- [ ] He’s going to press against you all the time, rubbing his body on yours, striping you and bringing you to the edge of pleasure with his fingers, mouth, or tail until UH OH, you didnt beg him to claim you. Oops….cant orgasm because you clearly dont need him like you should. But that doesnt mean HE cant cum. So he’s going to do so and rub it into your skin or cuming against your mouth as he holds it open. Wukong wants to cum in your pussy but he holds back, instead cleaning his cock off with your panties and making you wear them all day. Showing ownership over you.
- [ ] As mentioned before, hes mouthy. He’s going to be good at using his words and voice to pick at things and make you question things. Including calling you out on your body’s reactions to him. He finds it amusing when you try to hide it. He’s going to dig into those things about you and make you squirm - get you worked up as he whispers filthy things to you. Things you might not even have thought about but now you are.
- [ ] All you’re going to know is him, what he can give you and what he does for you. He’s made sure of it. So by the time you finally beg him to stuff you full, finally fully submitting to him and giving up your stubborn pride, he’s not going to hesitate. He’s going to press you down, ass up face pressed to the floor or bed with his hand on the back of your neck as he holds you down. His cock is going to enter you in one thrust and he will be nice for just a moment to let you spasm around his shape. Wukong will coo at you and the second you even slightly relax hes going to pull back and thrust in hard. The way he takes you that first time is total dominance, you will know who you belong to and where you belong. His finger prints will be bruised into your skin and his bite mark on you as he fully claims you as HIS MATE.
- [ ] He’s going to take care of you after though dont worry, he will be gentle and kiss your body. But he’s going to make you orgasm no matter how sore or overstimulated you are - this second round will be softer. The part of him that loves you and wants to pamper you taking over.
- [ ] Wukong wont have any issue playing with you in front of his monkeys (adult ones), so if there’s a meeting going on expect his tail to wander where it shouldn’t, slipping inside you. Or he will have a clone who’s bullied his way between your legs under the table. He might even have you sit on his cock, keeping still as he deals with whatever monkey business is going on. No one will ever see an intimate part of you, he wants to keep that for himself. But they will hear you screaming his name and they will see his marks on you.
- [ ] Over all Wukong as a yandere is much more vocally and mentally manipulative. He is also raw power and strength not used to being denied. If youre too stubborn or push back he’s going to show you who is boss and why HIS way is best. He wont ever truly harm you, but youre going to know punishment / consequences for your actions if you displease him. You’re his mate, so he’s going to take care of you but it’s going to be in the way he deems best. If you fully give yourself over to him he will pamper the absolute fuck out of you while also probably pushing your boundaries here and there. Because he LIKES showing his ownership of you. Wukong wont mind you taking your own pleasure but for every orgasm you have (essentially taking them from him) he’s going to have some form of punishment lined out for you. Your body is going to know the feel of him and him alone, or him and his clones because he has zero problem with pushing you to your limits with his clones, wanting to see you cock drunk on him.
General Both:
- [ ] Regularly walks around with your juices on his chin or on the fur surrounding his cock.
- [ ] Good at after care but doesn’t hold back when he wants something
- [ ] Loves seeing his marks on your skin and presses against them regularly with his fingers to watch you squirm and remember how you got the marks.
- [ ] Not above using all the tricks in the book to get you.
- [ ] Will happily chase you down if you run - into predator/prey stuff.
- [ ] Sensitive to your returned (given willingly) affection.
Extra dark -
these are harsher so skip if you don’t like: Doing a “both” here because it’s easier. These are in general terms so different AUs/situations apply
- [ ] Very jealous & possessive. If someone shows interest in you…they aren’t gonna live long.
- [ ] Will manipulate the things around you without you knowing to get what he wants which is YOU. Be it people or events etc - will make himself look like a good option/only option you have. (If he has to clone into someone or kill someone / make them look bad he will do it)
- [ ] He thinks he knows what’s best for you so whatever he needs to do he will and you will learn that too.
- [ ] Will kill someone you may have been interested in/with/might be married off too.
- [ ] Will assert his dominance by fucking you/making you scream for him in front of someone who had eyes on you/dating you/married to you/getting married to you while a clone of his holds them captive- will kill them after he’s done showing the person who you belong to.
- [ ] Will have you cock warm him while he’s doing important things (WK kingly duties etc). Doesn’t care if others are in the room but they better not LOOK at you. That’s the rule.
- [ ] Will use you until he’s done - especially if you fight him. But he’s going to make sure you crave him and his touch/pleasure.
- [ ] Rough with you, you will have his marks on your body at all times be it scratch’s or bites and bruises. (Might make a special mark - maybe his initials)
- [ ] Going to keep you open and wet for him for when he needs you. Loves you cock drunk and mindless. Uses you as stress relief too after a hard day/fight
- [ ] Would absolutely baby trap you.
- [ ] If he wanted to really play with you, he’d capture you, fuck you, and release you with his cum still filling you (he’s going to be near by don’t worry). He will do this many times until all you can dream about is him/his touch. (Yes he could just keep you but he wants to mentally mess with you - make you crave the pleasure he forces on you)
- [ ] In that same category- will spike your food/drink and will fuck you into his shape. You’ll wake thinking you had some erotic dream but in reality he had genuinely claimed you.
- [ ] Will stalk the fuck out of you, you’ll catch him out of the corner of your eye because he WANTS you to. Wants to smell your fear a little because it excites him.
- [ ] Will make you walk around with his cum on your skin/In you - you WILL smell like his.
- [ ] Will get you anything you need but takes his payment from your body/pleasure. (Publicly too)
- [ ] You will wear the things he picks for you, some for his eyes only. Be it body jewelry or sexy items. When you’re in public you wear his favorite colors on you or the things he adorns you with.
- [ ] Fighting him is useless and only eggs him on - push him too much though and he WILL assert his power over you. You won’t be moving anywhere and will feel his ‘punishment’
- [ ] Mentally/emotionally will make it so you are so far gone on him and dependent on him you don’t even consider escaping anymore.
- [ ] Because while he’s dominant and forceful he adds enough sweetness to keep you addicted to him. Yes, he will take care of you and your basic needs and even provide good after care. You are his mate at the end of the day.
- [ ] You sleep with him every night - snug against his body. (If he hasn’t stolen you away he’s definitely sneaking into your bed)
- [ ] Regularly uses his clones not only to monitor you but to keep you ready for him. Might play punishment games if you cum while being touched by a clone.
- [ ] If someone tries to help you escape you’re going to be given their head as a trophy.
- [ ] If someone tries to take you from him, he’s going to level mountains.
- [ ] Might test you to see if you will try to escape….punishments as consequences.
- [ ] Will protect you with everything he has and any children you give him.
- [ ] Depending on the situation is suspicious if you returning affection - but if he sees it’s genuine he’s going to be smug as fuck and also very vulnerable about it but won’t show that.
#black myth wukong#sun wukong x reader#black myth wukong x reader#destined one x reader#bk kai writes#yandere stuff#I tried I’m still learning okay????#kinda vague since it’s not a full fic etc#I do have fic ideas for this 🫶
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OooHOOOHOO
Man
Copy pasting my thoughts from my ramble at the friend who showed this post to me because I'm satisfied with the way I put them. Spoiler warning for wof arc 1 below
How does this work? Does she know the prophecy is fake from the moment Morrowseer visits the cave to observe the dragonets? Maybe he wasn’t thinking about it well enough for her to realize he doesn’t believe the prophecy - “hmmm…. This one isn’t good enough. This one will work better. This one will accomplish the need very effectively-” could all be interpreted as someone who doesn’t trust in fate to do it’s own work. Maybe this annoys her, but the truth doesn’t register.
Or does she deny obvious “lol this thing isn’t real” thoughts with the certainty that he’s wrong. And maybe she hates him because of it right off the bat - though she might not tell the others exactly why beyond a potential cryptic “he doesn’t even know what he’s talking about!” To which she gets the average response of “lol alright Sunny. Anyway I want to punt him into the sky because he hates Glory” - !!! Right - iirc, Morrowseer tells the guardians to kill her, but to the side where the dod don’t hear him. (Can’t check atm cause cat on lap). Maybe Sunny gets all bolt-upright-shock at a certain point and starts frantically trying to convince everyone that Glory is in danger the second he leaves, before anything is overheard. They maybe think she’s overreacting, that of course he hates me Sunny I’m a rainwing and yeah but they wouldn’t go that far haha - but eventually the conversation is overheard and they all realize the truth and the escape kicks off (with the difference of Sunny being in on it this time - unless they maybe still think she might accidentally let something slip).
Also - the moment in the tunnel with Morrowseer fits a little too well to change at all. He opens his mouth to gloat, to tell them all the truth, and no, no, no! She’s pleading for him to stop before he speaks a word because she knows, she knows, and maybe she always has, maybe she should have seen it sooner but it’s the only hope the others have, the only reason they’re still trying and she can’t let them lose it. She can’t lose it. She can’t lose them.
Oh! Also - does she tell the rest of the dod? Probably not, I’d guess. Starflight would be crushed. As far as they all know till the last book, she’s just a weird SandWing. Not only did Starflight fail to have any powers, but she got both. Maybe she tried to tell them before it occurred to her that it might hurt him, but no one believed her. She’s just supposedly really good at picking up on stuff. Can’t hide anything from her.
Also - mindreading and foresight would only feed into the hyper-empathy. She’s so worried about everyone all the time because she can hear their pain, she knows what they’re worried about, she can hear their hopes and dreams and she can see the fates everyone tumbles through. When the dod eventually find out about her powers, I can see Tsunami probably saying something along the lines of “hey, if you can see in everyone’s heads, why did you still trust the guardians so much? Why do you still care about them? Why do you still want to help everyone when everyone is trying to KILL US!??” To which she simply responds that that is the reason.
thrice-moonborn sunny :)
#wof sunny#wof au#wof fanart#oooooooo#I don't know if op had a story in mind and don't mean to overrun it if so#will check in a moment#BEAUTIFUL ART THOUGH#also reminds me of my WOF TMA au…#edit: WAIT THIS WAS POSTED ON MY BIRTHDAY??#truly fortuitous
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NOW SHOWING: NSFW ALPHABET
WARNINGS — afab!reader. y/n has no racial/ethnic marker but does have curly hair. nsfw content. mentions of drug usage. also, the dirty secret headcanon might be gross to some.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — wrote this after i lost all my draft fics and before i rewrote them so i used this as a way to get into writing again. not proofread properly and again, these are my headcanons. Also snuck a lyric from Gigi Perez’s Sailor Song somewhere in here, somehow.
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Hyperattentive towards you after sex. Will always run a bath or shower for both of you (or just you if you want some distance), if you have no leftover energy for a shower/bath, he’ll clean you up with a soft towel after leaving you in ruins and both of you will eventually just cuddle next to each other or watch Netflix together or have a session together.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Wouldn’t really say he’s insecure but he doesn’t particularly have a favourite of his own, besides maybe his curls (which don’t really count) until you come along and teach him how to love himself a bit more. He likes any part of his body that brings you pleasure, so i.e his hands, thighs and cock.
He likes your eyes and how they hold so much love for him. He also likes your curls because they mirror his own and he likes seeing that similarity between you both. He also likes your tits. Like a lot.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Deathly afraid of having kids, at the current stage, so when y’all are getting to business it’s definitely wrapped before you get tapped. But in the few and far in-between incidents where the notion of using a condom has been abandoned, this man is cumming on you. He loves seeing your tits painted in his seed.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Enjoys kissing you after either one of you has given the other oral. It might be gross, but the concept of mixing each other’s juices makes it feel like you're both fusing together in a sense. At least that’s how his line of logic works.
Also has a secret mommy/daddy kink depending on the day, and whether or not he’s feeling more dominant or submissive. Definitely had to excuse himself to the nearest bathroom when you called him daddy/asked to be called mommy as a joke.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Experienced enough to get a good idea of the female body and its anatomy, but doesn’t feel like he’s experienced enough to be overly confident.
…Even though the amount of orgasms you’ve had at the hand of this man says otherwise.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
Missionary or whenever you ride him. He, as aforementioned, likes your eyes, hair and tits and these positions allow him to make eye contact as well as watch your tits and hair bounce to rhythm of his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
When sober, he’s definitely too enamoured with you and the entire moment to laugh or be goofy, although that’s not to say that the moment is too serious or that either of you don’t let out little chuckles here and there. Both of you are just too whiny to let out anything other than moans most of the time.
When high? Oh, this man cannot take a single thing seriously. Everything sends him to a fit of giggles because he’s just so happy to have you like that.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
.
We’ve all seen his leg hair at this point. He’s hairy and will only really bother to groom at your request. He also has a happy trail that definitely makes you happy.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Deep down, he’s a hopeless romantic, so he loves those quiet moments together that let you feel how much he cares and he’ll always try to bring an element of soft, gentle and pure love even when he’s fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Doesn’t jack off often, because he’s regularly, sexually occupied by you and your body. But when he can’t fuck you he’ll fuck himself (whilst thinking of fucking you). Sometimes feels like a pathetic loser when he jerks off to the idea of you. The feeling of being a pathetic loser sometimes, inadvertently, makes him get hornier.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Not really kinks but thing’s he’s into: hair pulling (on him), cumming on you, praise, watching you beg for him.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Loves doing it in the bedroom, or shower. Anywhere private so he feels like he has you all to himself. Although the idea of doing it in a public place so everybody hears how desperate you get for him has crossed his mind more times than he’d like to admit
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Seeing you want him. Any of your tiny signals, from batting your eyelashes to running your tongue over your bottom lip, that alert him that you want to do something with him are enough. It doesn’t take much to get him going
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Choking or anything along the lines of seriously harming you. Not a total turnoff, but isn’t something that he’s enthusiastically into either.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Loves receiving and seeing that glassy look in your eyes as your mouth is full of him - however, he enjoys giving more. And you don’t complain. He’s good at it. He’s a sucker for holding your hand through it, and gazing up at you as his face is coated in your arousal.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Bit of both. Doesn’t try to go too fast so he has time to savour the moment, but also gets impatient quickly.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
In theory, he understands them - sometimes he just wants to fuck you, even if it’s not for long. But in practice? Hates them. One of the most important things about making love with you is to have time to enjoy you. He’d rather not have sex with you than a quickie unless he’s desperately horny. And even then, he’ll go back for a longer round 2.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
When sober? Not really, however, during post-smoke sesh foreplay, he’ll throw out the idea of doing something more experimental with you. It’s 50/50 on whether you two go through with it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Realistically, he does not have the best stamina, so maybe 3 rounds (with the promise that you both finish). But ideally this man could go forever until you want to sit it out.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Doesn’t use toys on himself. But definitely enjoys watching you use your wand on yourself in phone calls when you’re apart.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Enjoys teasing you because he enjoys seeing you flustered and whine for him to fuck you. Teases often but never for too long. He’s not big on denying you what you want for too long.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Quiet, partly due to embarrassment and also partly because he’s a whimperer. The only coherent phrases slipping out from this boy’s mouth is your name and frantic “I love you”’s repeated over and over again.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Definitely a soft dom or submissive top.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Ever so slightly girthier and longer than average. Pretty much perfect.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Would not describe himself as a horny person but the fact that it’s quite easy for him to think about you and you only and get hard, even with the thoughts being within an innocent context, and get hard begs to differ. He is subscribed to the mantra that if pleasure calls, he follows.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
If high, he’ll fall asleep after finishing up aftercare. If not, he’ll typically be up, even if you’ve long fallen to the entrapment of slumber, watching you and lamenting over the fact he gets to touch and be with you the way that he does <3
TAGLIST — @lordofthefrogs11 @titus-androgynous-69 @adiormoi (taglist is open, just lmk if you want to be added)
#hamzahthefantastic#hamzah#hamzahthefantastic x reader#hamzahxreader#slushy noobz#black tumblr#slushynoobz#hamzah x reader#hamzahthefanatasticxreader#hamzah imagines
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It’s a good kiss.
A–a solid kiss overall, Matt’s hands in his hair, Foggy’s hands on a frankly magnificent journey from Matt’s waist (respectful) to his hips (getting heated) to his ass (just in case this is the only time this happens, he has to take his chances). Really, the best you could expect a first kiss to be, a slight hint of awkward as they figure out whether to stop immediately or make their way toward Matt’s bed and exactly how to move their faces and bodies for the best possible results.
They pause for little gasps of breaths and laughing that borders hysteria and small moments for Foggy to briefly let the little what the fuck what the fuck what the fucking fuck voice in the back of his head speak before he drowns it out with the sound of Matt moaning. Because Matt Murdock makes noises like they’re in the middle of out and out fucking even though they’re just making out and maybe doing whatever heavy petting is. He’s never been clear on that. But they have four hands between them and all four hands are actively and enthusiastically touching something.
“Okay,” he says, eventually, because the noises Matt makes are too much for his young, horny heart and this is going south in a very specific way if they don’t stop and take a break. “Okay, alright, let’s – let’s regroup for a moment.”
“Or we could not,” Matt murmurs, tugging gently at Foggy’s hair to bring him closer.
“Oh goddamn,” Foggy says. “Goddamn you, Murdock.”
This is followed by Foggy pushing him onto his back and kissing him even more.
It’s all instinct after that.
And grinding.
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Hi :)
I saw your ask box was open.
Can I suggest the merc falling asleep on their crushes shoulder during movie night? And when they wake up, they are alone with their crush who strikes their hair or cheek or something like that?
→Falling asleep on their crushes shoulder!
Genre: fluff, GN reader
Characters: Sniper, Engineer, Solider
This asker specified in a separate ask that it would be okay if I only did these three, unfortunately I think for now I’ll stick to just these three because I actually ended up getting a bunch of asks and didn’t want to overwhelm myself too quickly. Very grateful for all the submissions btw! Anyhow enjoy!
Sniper
He would have to be seriously sleep deprived to let this happen.
Sniper his hyper aware of his surroundings at all times, him “accidentally” brushing against something or someone is rarely ever just that.
He’d be hyper aware whenever sitting next to you, always ensuring there was enough space as to not accidentally touch. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or seem unprofessional, he already felt bad enough for having feelings for you.
To avoid leaning on you he just hung his head forward, falling asleep in the most uncomfortable position you have ever seen. But long nights of tossing and turning in his van had finally caught up and he was out like a light.
(Maybe it happens on accident, or maybe by your intervention he ends up leaning his head against your side. Oh no, what a terrible fate!)
He looks so calm and peaceful, so even long after the movie ended you decide to just keep quiet and let him sleep.
Eventually however he begins to stir, and wake with a soft sigh.
Freezes the second he realizes he’s against your side and under your arm. Like total deer in headlights, goes rigid.
He looks up at you to start spouting apologies and get off you, but instead with your free hand you just tenderly move a strand of hair out of his face with a smile.
His heart is beating out of his chest in an instant, and he quickly looks away to hide his burning face. Will not say anything from that point forward, and you choose to do the same, keeping the quiet ambience intact.
He might turn tail and run off or he might just stay, it honestly depends on the nature of your relationship up until this point. How close he views the two of you already.
If he lets a good thing be and just stays, he won’t talk about it or acknowledge it ever again. And if any of the mercs bring it up (which let’s face it, they will) he will deny it to the ends of the earth.
Thinks about it constantly, like constantly. He won’t be able to face you with a straight face for the next few days.
Engineer
Engie definitely ended up next to you on purpose, his passes at romance are typically pretty low-key, just sitting next to you is enough!
During movie nights he almost always pretends it’s just the two of you, making jokes about the movie while being shushed by the other mercs.
Tonight though it was a calming feel good movie, he couldn’t really think of anything to make you laugh so he ended up just sort of dozing off.
Him resting his head against your shoulder though is a happy accident, he didn’t mean it, but neither of you are mad about it.
I imagine that Engie is a super deep sleeper, once he’s out he’s out. So realistically you know you could probably sneak out from under him without waking him, but you’re not about to do that.
The first thing he goes to do when he wakes up is apologize for drooling.
But before he gets the chance you tenderly take your thumb as graze it over his cheek, smiling softly.
He freezes at first, heart caught in his throat.
But he gets his footing quickly, and starts “sorry for drooling on you darlin’” he said trying to break the ice a little bit.
“It’s okay,” you say taking a deep breath turning your attention back to your book “I don’t mind.”
He stays, getting nice and cozy beside you. It will likely become pretty standard practice between the two of you, he’ll shoo away any of the other mercs who might make fun.
This is the catalyst for him confessing to you for sure.
Solider
Solider is attentive at all times, if he falls asleep on your shoulder it is 100% on purpose.
Restless during movie nights, constantly (and loudly) interrupting the movie to ask questions or point out impossibilities. Doesn’t get suspension of disbelief.
Does enjoy cozying up to you though, the other mercs caught wind that he is calmer and quieter if sat next to you, so it became pretty ritual.
“This movie doesn’t make any sense! I’m going to sleep!” He loudly proclaimed to the group, earning a few annoyed groans and grunts from the other mercs. Promptly resting his head on your shoulder, praying you don’t shoo him away, or become uncomfortable.
Kind of dips in and out of sleep, kind of has trouble getting completely comfortable, and eventually wakes back up to find the two of you alone. Definitely sort of sheepish once it’s just the two of you, may pretend to be asleep.
Instead of insisting he get up you just sort of scratch gently at his scalp, comforting him as you guys enjoy a domestic moment together alone.
Might confess his feelings on the spot, might not really depends on his mood.
Doesn’t get up for a long time, an action that’s probably wholly your idea cause your arm is falling asleep.
Won’t be shy about it, but likely won’t bring it up again afterwards, definitely doesn’t enjoy any of the jokes anyone might make.
Is not opposed in the slightest to doing that again, pretends to be chill about it tho.
Eek! My first ask, I’m so grateful this was fun to write! My favoritism for Sniper really shows ^^’ whoopsssss
#tf2#team fortress 2#tf2 x reader#tf2 x you#tf2 solider#tf2 engineer#tf2 sniper#sniper x reader#engie x reader#soldier x reader#fanfic#fic#fanfiction#headcanon#x reader
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HELLOOOO
I got a silly little ask, just a drabble from you would be fine 😁
Like- the reader (gender neutral) wasn't very open about their hobbies and such. One of their hobbies was like martial arts or smth (THIS IS VERY CRUCIAL ☝️☝️☝️)
Wellll, one day Jimmy (🤮) decided to try and touch the reader inappropriately and they just throw him over their shoulder saying something along the lines of "Do NOT touch me."
I KNOW IT'S CRINGE BUT PLEASEEEE, IT WOULD BE SO FUNNY 🙏🙏🙏🙏
I saw you're writing for only Curly and Daisuke, but if you wanna you can add other characters into the mix. It's all platonic, just a silly little ask cuz I wanna laugh 😁😁😁
[ Tulpar Crew & Reader ]
Oh I love this one. Also this reminded me to update my list thank u 4 unintentionally reminding me anon.,.,. ALSO DONT WORRY I DONT THINK IT'S CRINGE !
gender neutral reader, it gets silly later on i promise. not proof-read. wrote this really quick.
⚠️ tw: stalking, jimmy being a little too forward and close
The day was pretty much mundane, like always. Everyone was in their designated work stations, including you of course. Though, something felt off. It had been like this for the past week, and you hated it. You even blamed your lack of sleep for it. It seemed like there was something— someone, watching and following you when you were alone.
One time, you'd even woken up to the sound of your quarter's door closing. You stayed up all night, not wanting to inconvenience the other crew members for what you think might just be all in your head. Well, that is until psych evaluation day came and you opened up about this to Anya who so easily believed you, but seemed so uncomfortable with the topic. You decided not to pry out of respect. She offers her company when you need it.
That same night, Daisuke offered to host a game session to which everyone reluctantly agreed to.
Establishing good bonds between workers is key to an efficient working environment!
Anya, Swansea and Daisuke were sitting by the sofa, Curly dragged a chair just beside the game table, whilst you and Jimmy sat beside each other on the floor. The game involved four players and the crew decided that whoever loses first has to swap with whoever hasn't played yet for the next rounds. The game was getting heated, Daisuke and Anya, neck on neck. Unfortunately, not the only thing neck on neck. Everyone else was too focused on the game to even notice what Jimmy was doing. You can feel his breath against your skin. You eyed the others in hopes that they would see. Too busy. Annoyed and grossed out, you elbowed his ribs in warning, glaring at him. "Jimmy, don't touch me." He seems pissed, but that doesn't deter him from getting his entertainment. Jimmy presses on and you swear you felt your eyebrows twitch. The balls of this guy to even do this here.
Daisuke throws the dice, the three leans in in anticipation as they watch it slowly roll to a stop and—
CRASH!
Some game pieces flew in different directions, two table legs snapping from the force and Jimmy's weight. It was radio silent for a moment. The crew having different variations of shocked expressions. You had grabbed his arm and flipped his body onto the furniture.
"Fuckin' pervert. Are you deaf, or what? I said do NOT touch me."
Daisuke threw his hands up in the air and settled it on each side of his head, frustrated. "Oh, come on, man! I was so close to winni—!" His whining ceases when Swansea nudges him, instantly shutting up and processing what had just happened. It took a few blinks for him to register and he eventually bursts out laughing and pointing at Jimmy. It took everything from Swansea not to burst out laughing as well. Instead, he crosses his arms and huffs with a proud smile. 'Atta' kid.'
Anya on the other hand slips out a gasp, covering her mouth. Mostly out of shock, and no sympathy for the man whatsoever. When the other intern started laughing, she had to bite her lip and look away to suppress her own fit.
[ History of glenohumeral joint subluxation.
It happened way too fast for Jimmy to even process what just happened. He spits out something hard, probably a tooth. His shoulder slightly stings as well, probably dislocated. He'll get back at you some other time, he can't get back at you when everyone else is here and that pisses him off even more.
Curly had mixed feelings. But of course, he prioritizes his role and he has to mediate everything first and foremost. Rubbing his face, he sighs and stands up, putting his hands on his hips. He calls your name and you tilted your head to look up at him. "I have to discuss... this with you later on. Please drop by the cockpit, yeah?" You roll your eyes and nod, pouting. "Swansea, could we borrow your intern real quick?"
"Shift's over, go ahead."
He gives the eldest a nod. "Daisuke, please assist Anya. Help her bring Jimmy to medical."
"Youuuuu got it, Big C." He finger guns towards the captain then stands up to hover over the co-pilot. Curly could only give Daisuke an awkward smile at the nickname.
"Never call him that again."
"El Capitano." Daisuke helps Jimmy up, making sure he's pulling them up by the injured arm, making the man grit his teeth and groan in pain. Before the guy could even cuss at the intern, Swansea continued bickering.
"Do your damn job."
"Yessir. Swansir."
Anya and Daisuke finally went off the bring the poor injured co-pilot to treat him. And if you'd like to know, Anya taught Daisuke how to pull Jimmy's shoulder back to place. Yes, everyone heard him when it happened.
You helped Swansea clean up the mess by the lounge and in apology, offered to help repair the table the next day. He agrees and even offers Daisuke to assist you.
Curly had to lightly reprimand you for your actions, but you'd explained to him what happened. The best he could do for you for now is lie on the report.
Sustained through occupational accident.
Employee confirmed inebriated while working.
Property damage docked to Jimmy.]
#tulpar#tulpar crew#daisuke#curly#anya#swansea#jimmy#mouthwashing#daisuke mouthwashing#curly mouthwashing#anya mouthwashing#swansea mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#mouthwashing game#x reader#gender neutral reader#anya x reader#curly x reader#daisuke x reader#swansea x reader#jimmy x reader#tulpar crew x reader
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Hii! :)
Can you do imagine request "Nap dates"? I had inspiration when i was listening Angus & Julia Stone's song Nothing Else. Y/n is working for Sumerian Records and is interested tour management. Sumerian sent her with Matt to work with the production so Matt can focus more on audio things. Y/n is first shy and trying to focus 120% only working but Noah is trying to get Y/n in every way. She is almost thirty years old and single, for the first time in a completely foreign environment. She is a native Finnish speaker and still looking for a little communication in English. She's a little shy, slow to ignite, but she's also been eyeing Noah, but scared that everything will go wrong. Her motto has been that you don't eat from the load. She talks a lot about how she misses skin to skin touching, but is too afraid of having relationships or sex with strangers and Noah suggests nap dates. She has a rule: no sex, no kissing, only cuddles and naps. Y/n is gemini ja Noah is Scorpio so they are not compatible and they try their best to fight off their interest in the other, but they still end up trying nap dates. Eventually they become romantically interested in each other and they end up kissing and having sensual, but mind blowing sex.
Nap Dates
Tag list: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986 @dominuslunae @shayzillaaaa @fadingintothegrey @an0mallly @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @mrsnoahsebastian @flowery-mess @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @stardustsirenmelody @romanreigns-supreme @anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey@rumoured-whispers @myownthoughts12@sister-sebastian
The flight from Finland was almost thirteen hours. I check the time once I land then make a quick call to the record label once I'm out of the terminal, following the signs to ground transpiration. Even though this is my first time on any foreign soil, thanks to the help of the internet and the amount of English I know, I'm able to maneuver my way through the airport well enough to get to where I need to be. Still on the phone, my boss tells me there's an Uber waiting for me outside that will take me to the hotel where I'll be staying. In the morning, one will pick me up and drive me to the studio to meet with the man I was sent here to work with.
A while back I mentioned to the label that I was interested in learning more about tour management in America, so they set me up with a guy named Matt with a strange last name I couldn’t pronounce, and arranged a meeting with him via video call. I liked him instantly. He was easy to talk to and had a really nice personality. I knew we were going to be a good match Upon exiting the airport, I see the Uber waiting for me. I climb in and we head to the hotel where I check in, find my room, then showering, and finally sleep. The drive to the studio the next morning is a quick one. I'm nothing but a messy bundle of nerves the minute I walk inside, wondering why I ever agreed to take this job. Turning the corner, I see two men standing in the hall and they both smile the moment they see me. My cheeks redden instantly.
"Hey, can we help you?" a man, wearing a black ball cap asks. He has dirty blond hair down to his shoulders, a pointed nose and a very cute smile. He looks at me as if he recognizes me, and I admit to myself that he, too, looks very familiar. "I, uh, yes. Maybe? I don't know actually."
My English comes out slower than I want it to, but at least they can understand me. The other guy, tall with long brown hair pulled up in a messy bun, smiles at me too and proceeds to speak to me in Swedish. I sigh in perfect joy. We carry on a brief conversation where I explain who I am and why I’m here, learning that his name is Joakim, but his friends call him "Jolly", and that he is part of the band that I'll be working with.
"And this," he says, clamping a hand down on the shoulder of the man with the ball cap, "is Matt, our tour manager." "Oh my gosh, I'm an idiot," I cringe, slapping my forehead with my hand. I look back up at Matt only to see him grinning at me. "You knew who I was the whole time, didn't you?" Matt slowly nods, unable to hide his smile. I nod, too, feeling completely embarrassed. "Hey, don't worry about it," Matt encourages me. "You've had a long couple of days. I'm sure you're beat." "Yeah, just a little. Jet lag is kicking my ass.” "Come," Jolly says, I'll introduce you to the other guys." I nod and follow them down the hall to a room on the right.
Nicholas, Nick who goes by Folio, and Noah; the three remaining band members. I shake each of their hands, smiling shyly at them, but stop and stare hard the moment I get to Noah. He stares at me, his expression is cool and relaxed and his disarming smile penetrates my entire body. Noah seems to be a laid back sort of person and it helps me to relax a bit. Matt takes me over to the sound equipment, asking me questions about what I know and what I'm able to bring to the table as far as tour production, and I'm honest and thorough, telling him what I know and can do. He's impressed and says I'll be a great fit. Glancing over at Noah, I catch the way he's staring at me. His brown almond eyes are deep and entrancing, making it extremely hard to look away. I take a deep breath and exhale it through my nose quickly, trying my best to refocus my attention back to Matt.
It's been three weeks of work and I love my job. Matt is the best. Very easy going and easy to work with. His personality and intelligence match mine when it comes to work and pretty soon, the two of us, along with Noah, have a whole idea planned out for the upcoming tour. Noah is growing on me and I’d like to think I'm growing on him too. Getting to know him more, I learn he’s a little reserved and introverted like me, but very sweet, which is surprising to me considering his stage presence. Everyday I'm around him, my feelings about him change. The fluttery, butterfly feeling that would come and go is permanently there now and it only grows whenever we're together. It's ridiculous, actually. I'm thirty years old, not a teenager. Noah shouldn't have this sort of effect on me; yet he does. And if I'm being honest, I'm beginning to really like the feeling.
The day I met Y/N face to face was the day my world turned upside down. I was drawn to her for reasons I didn’t know or couldn’t understand. I was never known to be a guy interested in the opposite sex to the point it was all I could think about. But she was; she was all I could think about. I couldn't concentrate on anything but her and the way she moved so gracefully and the way she spoke, softly and slowly with her moderate Swedish accent that was thicker than Jolly's and much sweeter. Her smile was simple, but so bright. Whenever she used it, my heart would skip a beat and I couldn't help but smile back. Y/N was also very easy on the eyes. She was distracting. Every time she walked into the room, I found myself staring at her a little more than I knew I should, and the fact that she was single was mind blowing.. A woman like her shouldn't be. We became easy friends. The only problem was, Y/N devoted 1000% of her time to her job, never giving herself time to do anything else. Matt tried telling her not too, that he was afraid she might burn herself out, but she refused to listen to him, telling him it was just her nature to stay so busy.
"So, there really is no man for you back home? No one that interests you?" Y/N shakes her head, taking a sip of her hot chocolate. I managed to steal her away from work for the day, taking her out for coffee, which turns out to be hot cocoa instead. We're sitting on a park bench, overlooking the ocean. A soft breeze swings in, blowing the small strands of hair out her face. I look over at her, taking a moment to soak in her delicate features that make her so pretty, and find myself feeling things for her that I probably shouldn't, yet I just can't help myself.
"What about you?" she asks, turning to face me. The soft twinkle I see makes me smile as I huff a small laugh. "Nope. No one. I mean there have been girls that I thought were pretty and nice, but in the end they just turned out to be too shallow or taken. I find it better to just not go looking for something, but instead let that something find me. I'm not in any rush." Y/N chuckles and takes a sip of her hot cocoa. "You mean to tell me all your fame and money doesn't buy you happiness like everyone says it does?" she jokes. I laugh. Laughing with her is so easy. "I'm afraid not. I don't want to be rich anyway. I just want to find my person and grow old with her." Y/N hums in approval. "How did you get to be so wise, Noah," she smiles, playfully. But I sense some seriousness. "Life wasn't always easy for me, you know. I had to learn that falling apart isn't always a bad thing. It taught me how to become someone, that's for sure." Y/N frowned. "We're all someone, are we not?" "No," I shook my head. "I don't think we are. Most people live life in a bubble, locked up in their minds, completely turned off to reality and what's passing in front of them. They spend their whole life looking for the next best thing instead of enjoying the here and now; instead of being present."
"Wow, yeah, I agree with that," she nodded. "You know, you're not like other guys, Noah. You enjoy going slow and sitting still while you come undone and allow life to pick you apart a little. I like that. It's refreshing." Y/N turns and looks at me and I can't help but trail my eyes over her face and wonder what it would be like to kiss her soft, red lips. She's the first girl I've had these sorts of thoughts about in a really long time. "Thank you," I say quietly. "You're welcome," she says, trailing her eyes over my face as well. "Can I ask you a more personal question?" She hesitates at first, but then says okay. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Her eyes narrow. "Like? Romantically or sexually?" I feel my cheeks redden a little "Both." A small smile creeps over Y/N's lips.
"Um, it's been a while. I'm really backwards and shy and have zero confidence. Having a sexual relationship with strangers is hard for me because of that. And trying to get into a deep, long term relationship never works out because if I'm not willing to sleep with the guy then he loses interest. "Are you serious? Y/N you're beautiful! You should have a lot of confidence." "Yet, I don't," she laughed, turning away from me. “Also, you’re really hot yet you’re single,” she points out with a sly grin and I laugh. “Okay, point taken.” I playfully shove her in the shoulder as we remain quiet for a moment, processing what we just learned about each other.
"I miss it though," Y/N confesses. "Miss what?" "Skin to skin contact. Not necessarily sexually or anything, but just like hand holding and soft, gentle caresses and touches. Cuddling, gosh I love cuddling," she giggles and it's the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard. "Especially when it's cold or raining. Cozying up together and falling asleep, or watching old movies in the dark. Those are the best."
Y/N's description sounds like this thing I read about in one of my weird, self-help books. It's a thing called nap dates and apparently it works when someone is missing the physical touch of another human being, so I mention it to her. "What about nap dates?" She looks at me completely confused, shaking her head. "What are nap dates?" "They're dates that people who are friends or in a platonic relationship have. You hang out with each other, cuddle, watch tv, sleep, you know, boring stuff." "Boring stuff," Y/N laughs, tossing her empty cup in the trash. "Well boring for those who aren't trying to make their relationship go anywhere."
We stand up, and I stretch, working out the kink's in my neck, grimacing in pain. "Are you alright, Noah," she asks, alarmed. "Yeah. I just have this insane knot in my shoulder blade that won't go away. It's been there for days and hurts like hell." "Oh, well sit. I can rub it out for you." I do as she says, making sure she has enough access to my back. The moment she lays her hands on me I feel the instant spark rip through my body. Her touch is electrifying. I can't help but moan and groan over the feeling of the way she works and messages the knot out. It's invigorating. But it's the way she's touching me that has my body all worked up. It's gentle yet confident. Strong yet sweet. And just the thought of never feeling it again sends my mind into a spiral.
"How's that?" I move my arm around feeling immediate relief. "Oh god that feels a million times better. Thank you." Y/N grins. "You're welcome." I take her hand and hold it for a moment, thankful she doesn't pull away. Her eyes are speaking to me, yet I can't read what they're saying. "Noah," "Yeah?" "The idea of nap dates sounds fun." "It does, doesn't it?" "You really want to try it?" "Only if you do," I assure her. "Okay," she grins at me again. "Let's try it. But there's conditions." "Sure," I agree, fighting hard to control my eagerness. "No sex, no kissing. Only cuddling and sleeping." I chuckle. Her conditions seem pretty fair. "Absolutely," I agree." She grins. "Okay, good."
The rain is pouring down outside as Noah and I lay on the couch together, cuddled up under a warm, thick blanket. My leg is wrapped around his and I’m curled into him, burying my face in the crook of his neck. I'm engulfed by the scent of him and it makes me lightheaded. The abnormal fluttery feeling in my stomach that always comes around whenever Noah and I are together is hitting me hard in my chest, making my heart race. I'm not sure if it's anxiety or nerves, but it makes me snuggle into him deeper and wrap one arm around his torso. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out.
"Are you okay, Y/N," Noah asks softly. I know his eyes are still glued to the tv as his favorite show plays quietly in the background. He has one arm beneath me, holding me so I won't fall off the couch, while his other one is tucked under his head. "Yup I'm fine," I say sleepily, yawning big. "Awe, you tired?" I nod slowly. "Go to sleep. We have nowhere to go or nothing to do," Noah suggests, bringing his hand down on my head and slowly caressing my hair. The warmth of Noah's arms are the very thing I need to help me drift off into a lazy, comfortable nap.
The night belonged to them. Nothing but the stars and the full moon watched them from way up above as they kissed one another. With her on her back, hands wrapped around his tattooed neck and fingers snaking through his newly trimmed brown hair, and him leaning over her, fingers tracing her cheekbones then caressing the side of her face, Y/N and Noah embraced the sensual feelings rushing through their bodies.
Night after night, day after day, their nap dates slowly began to take a different turn; they had developed strong feelings for one another. At first it started with their hands finding each other, fingers intertwining and playfully locking together. Then came the looks and slight smiles whenever they were around each other, the ones they thought they were being so secretive about. Finally, it came boiling over the night a huge storm rolled in with horrible wind, thunder, and lightning, knocking out the power for hours. It scared Y/N, making her cling to Noah as if her life depended upon it. Noah sang to her, held her while she rested her head quietly in his lap as he played with her hair. She fell asleep, only waking when she realized she was being carried to her bed. "Noah, please don't leave. Stay with me.” "Alight, I will," he promised, crawling into the bed next to her. The feeling of her body pressed so tightly against him made resisting the urge to kiss her impossible, but he did it anyway.
At first he thought Y/N would panic, freak out, or get mad at him because of their agreement when they first arranged their nap dates. But Y/N did the opposite. She turned all the way over, facing him and allowed Noah to devour her lips, her mouth, and her body, stopping only when it was about to go too far. "Not yet, not like this," Y/N whispered in the dark. The word "yet" clung to Noah's heart and mind like a magnet. He agreed, kissing her once more.
Now, here they were, tangled up in one another beneath the stars, unable to stop their hungry appetite for the other. "Noah, let's go home," Y/N mumbled against his lips. Noah smiled at her mention of the word "home". "Why? I like kissing you beneath the stars." Y/N giggled. "I know, but I'm not comfortable enough to do this out in the open. I’m sorry. I hate being the way I am sometimes.” Noah stopped kissing her and met her gaze. "I like you just the way you are," he told her, loving the way she smiled at him. He pulled her in and laid a soft kiss on her forehead. "I want to do nothing else but fall into your arms and let you have your way with me. I just can't do it here." Y/N confession had Noah's mind reeling. "You're going to let me have my way with you?" he asked. "If you'll have me," she answered quietly. Noah grabbed her and kissed her, standing up immediately after they parted. "Let's go."
Noah opened the hotel room door for Y/N and she walked in as he flipped the light switch on, locking the door behind him. His tall frame loomed over her small figure that was the picture of perfection against the black backdrop of the room behind her. She stared at him with eyes so intense he thought she could see right through him. And in that moment, Noah wanted nothing more than to just feel her naked body against him.
Leaving just the entry light on, he guided her back into the darkness of the room, thankful that the soft glow of the moonlight and the parking lot lights filled the room with enough light for them to still see one another. Noah ran his hands down her arms, feeling the instant prickle of her skin as he did so, making him shiver, too.
Without a word, he removed his shirt, then his shoes and socks, moving close to help Y/N do the same. Even though he knew she wanted to do this, she still looked alarmed. "When was the last time you were with a guy?" Y/N was quiet for a moment, unsure if she should be truthful or not. But, to do this right, she knew she had to be. "Two years ago." Noah's mouth fell open. "Why? I mean, I don't... " "There was no one worthy enough, that's all. I don't just sleep with anyone for fun, Noah. I have more respect for myself than that," she stated firmly. He closed his mouth quickly "Does this mean I'm worthy enough? Us being here together, alone, about to do the very thing you say you don't give to just anyone?" Y/N smiled up at Noah shyly, raising her arms as he lifted her shirt above her head and tossing it to the floor next to his. "Yes, Noah. You are more than worthy enough. I want to give in to you completely, mind, body, and soul. I just need to be assured that I won't regret it in the end."
He held her face in his hands when he kissed her. Noah didn't ever want her to go away again. It was as if her mouth had suddenly held all the oxygen that kept him alive. Undoing the clip of her bra, Noah gently pulled the straps down and she let it fall, revealing herself to him. He sucked in a slight breath, licking his lips instantly. "I have such a fucking weakness for you, Y/N," Noah confessed, carefully pushing her down on the bed and laying her back. "I have since the moment I saw your face on that video call. I was drawn to you, for reasons I didn't understand." He latched his fingers around the waistband of her leggings and pulled them off, leaving her only in her white cotton panties, which he quickly took off and shoved into the pocket of his joggers. "For safekeeping," he winked at her, making her giggle.
Looking down, Noah stared at the naked body before him on full display. Y/N was beyond beautiful. She was a perfect work of art, something to be worshiped and adored. Lowering his face, Noah trailed slow kisses over her stomach, feeling how it dipped from the way his lips tickled her, making him smile against her skin. Y/N ran her hands through his hair, moaning from the feeling of it running through her fingers as Noah placed kisses all over the front of her body.
From her stomach to her breasts, Noah went slow and steady tasting every single part of her. Wrapping an arm around her waist he arched her back and rolled her hardened nipple with his tongue making the noises coming out of her sound so intoxicatingly sinful. He was obsessed with her, and every touch, every sound made Noah feel more unhinged. He sucked her breast into his mouth as much as he could, nipping at her silky skin while flicking her nipple with his tongue over and over. Pulling back, Y/N cried out in protest of his absence, making him chuckle darkly. Standing to his feet, Noah slipped off his joggers and boxers at the same time, freeing his hard erection. The sight made Y/N shiver with absolute lust, and she couldn't wait to have him between her legs. "Spread your legs for me, Princess, and do as I say, alright," he whispered in her ear. Y/N obeyed, releasing a loud, content sigh over feeling him between her thighs.
"I want you in the worst way, Y/N," Noah confessed, rutting himself lightly against her soaked, throbbing core. She was already a panting mess, ready for whatever happened next. "Your taste, your scent, and I want the feeling of your skin next to mine. I want it all tonight," he whispered, staring her straight in the eye. Y/N swallowed, placing her hand on Noah's cheek. "Then take me, Noah. I'm all yours."
Without another word spoken, he reached down and guided the tip of his hard cock to her entrance and eagerly began taking her at his pleasure. Noah felt like heaven inside her. The sound of her first escaped moan as her body took him in and he spread her open wide was the best music to fuel his passion. He shivered when her nails dug into his back and his head fell into the crook of her neck as he began to pump hard and fast into her tight, wet core. The sheer ecstasy of it all threatened to tear them both apart and shatter them into a thousand pieces.
Noah grabbed Y/N's hips with purpose, aligning himself perfectly so that he could thrust hard and completely down to the very base of all he had to give her. She moaned for him, wrapping her legs tight around him and squeezing with all her might. No longer caring who could hear, Y/N cried out his name, biting his shoulder and pulling him in close to suck the warm, wet skin of his neck, Noah's own breathy moan seemed to accompany her sounds perfectly as his cock filled her entirely and hit the soft spongy spot of her cervix. Nothing could make him weaker than the feeling of her clinging to him and moaning "harder" in his ear as he bottomed out inside her, trying his best to cling to sanity.
"Oh god, you feel so good. Fuck," Noah groaned breathlessly, as he felt her writhe beneath him. "I'm a fucking mess for you, Y/N," he confessed, pounding into her a little harder and clamping his large hand around her thigh, pulling it up higher to get a better angle. She pulled his face into hers, latching her lips to his and feverishly kissing him while tugging on his hair collected between her fingers. "Fuck!" Noah growled," thrusting harder.
"Noah, I'm close," she whimpered. "I know, I can feel you. Goddamn, you're so tight, baby," he groaned. The pad of his middle finger rubbed circles along her clit, pressing down a little harder and making her squirm in delight. The way her back arched off the mattress mixed with her wetness gathering on his fingers, Noah knew she didn't have much longer. His hand took her leg and hiked it up higher against his side so that he could thrust even deeper down within her. The screams of her pleasure, echoing off the walls of the hotel room were pornographic,
"Noah," she cried, running her nails down his back, making him seethe in pain and pleasure. "That's it, cum for me, baby," Noah ordered, moaning as his head fell into her neck once again. Y/N's hands moved up his chest and around his neck and he made a sound deep in his throat that thrilled and frightened her to the point that her trembling walls shattered around his cock and she came as the hot rush of blood pulsed through her veins. Every muscle in her body tightened around Noah as he guided her through her orgasm until he felt himself tightening. He thrusted into her once, twice then pulled out and groaned deeply, spilling his warm release over her stomach
Spent, Noah's head fell against hers, his sweat mixing with her dampness, and he kissed her, long, hard, and still full of so much need. He rolled over and got up, heading for the bathroom Y/N laid there, panting, dazed over what just happened. Never in her life had she experienced sex like that before and now that she had, she only craved it more, but only if it was with Noah. He came back to bed carrying a warm and dry cloth, carefully cleaning up his mess. She watched him through sleepy eyes, sweetly caring for her until she was clean.
Noah tossed the towels to the floor and pulled back the blankets, climbing beneath them, still fully naked. Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if to question if he was sure and he held up the blanket, motioning for her to come close. She was sleepy so she crawled over to him and snuggled deep under the blanket that Noah tossed over her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her into him so that her back was pressed tightly against his chest." You have no idea how much I like you," Noah confessed quietly to her in the dark. "How much you make me smile and how much I love talking to you." Y/N smiled to herself, squeezing his arm in approval. "Yes, I do," she replied. Noah was quiet for a moment. "Then you know how much I wish you were mine." She took a breath and sighed, and because she felt so warm and safe, Y/N closed her eyes. "You have me, Noah. Until the very last star in the galaxy dies, I'm yours."
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fan fiction#bad omens fan fiction#bad omens#bad omens cult
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Time stuck au but it’s Pacifica meeting the Anti-Cipher society. And she is becoming Abigale’s apprentice in engineering.
I thought I DELETED THIS ASK but I DIDNT it was just HIDDEN FOR SOME REASON! anyway this idea has captivated me, I have yet to draw Pac with the whole society (I WILL) but here’s some doodles of her and Abbey!!
Click for Quality!
Also some extra musings under the cut…..
The Northwests travel to Illinois one holiday. Pacifica takes some time off from her insufferable parents to find someplace worth visiting. Unfortunately, it seems like nothing in Illinois is worth visiting. She eventually finds herself at 333 North East West Drive, a functionally abandoned historical building, “For Rent” sign collecting dust in its windows. Something catches her eye on the ground - what looks to be a normal tape measurer. I say “looks to be,” because it is in fact a TIME tape-measurer, albeit a half-broken one.
Pacifica ends up in 1901 using the half-broken time tape measurer and manages to break it completely. Luckily for her, Abigale finds her and agrees to help fix it… and teach Pacifica some mechanical know-how in the process!
Abigale doesn’t know that she’s Pacifica’s ancestor. Pacifica is pretty certain Abigale Blackwing is Abigale Northwest, but doesn’t say anything because Abigale Northwest was always considered a bit of a stain on the family, half-buried by history. Pacifica doesn’t want to let Abigale know she’s been erased, and honestly, is still a little bought-in to her family’s philosophy of sweeping “unsavory” people or things under the rug at this point.
Pacifica is actually pretty damn good at mechanics! She takes a second to get a hang of it, but once she grasps the basics she learns the rest shockingly quick. Abigale is so proud.
Pacifica actually helps enable some semblance of workshop-safety in the society, what with her modern knowledge that lead, mercury, and arsenic are all deadly toxins that you shouldn’t be putting in “anti-cipher tonic” to guzzle and/or rub on your skin.
The rest of the society LOVE Pacifica. That’s their collective daughter now.
Jessamine teaches her how to shoot! Pacifica isn’t a very good natural aim, but Jessie is patient and knows skill comes with practice.
Horace is so charmed by her, he really takes up a sort of father figure. He would mow down entire countries for this kid. Pacifica doesn’t know how to take Horace at first, since she’s so used to her real dad sucking ass, but she becomes close with him fast!
Thurburt is SO her silly weird uncle. Thurburt was always a clumsy, accident-prone fool, but somehow around Pacifica he becomes even more slapstickly-inclined. Pacifica thinks he’s doing it on purpose to get a laugh out of her. He is. It always works.
Even O’Pimm, the crotchety old drunk that he is, gets a kick out of her! He likes her honesty. If Pac thinks something’s daft or dull, she’ll say it. O’Pimm is glad to not be the ONLY one with sense around the society anymore.
And of course, it goes without saying that Abigale ADORES Pac. Abigale never wanted to be a mother, but teaching Pacifica the ropes of engineering and working her through her problems made her reconsider that thought.
Pacifica actually manages to fix the time tape measurer all on her own one night. It takes 2 weeks for her to finally tell the society. She almost doesn’t want to leave.
Abigale was the one to convince her to go home. “The future needs you, Pacifica. It needs brilliant, talented girls like you. You’ve got people waiting on you, but more than that, you’ve got a whole WORLD waiting for you! Live your life, Pacifica, your story doesn’t end in this time. Promise me you’ll make some change in that future of yours, rather than feel trapped in the past with us…”
Pacifica is a lot different when she returns. She’s suddenly way into tinkering, something she keeps secret from her family. She’s also a lot happier, and a lot less concerned about mistakes (though she’s more worried when her parents are in eye or earshot…)
Pacifica starts to really get interested in the story of Abigale Northwest. She unearths a lot of hidden secrets about her life. Most of it isn’t good, especially now. At least Pacifica knows the truth, now. (I have a VERY specific idea as to how Abbey’s life was after the society disbanded and it is NOT pretty. When I post it I’ll add a link here)
She wishes Abigale could have had her happy ending. She wonders if she had stayed behind, could she have changed things? She considered using the time tape measurer to go back more times then she’d like to admit. But she made a promise, didn’t she? Her job is here in the future, not stuck in the past…
#aria draws#digital art#digital drawing#fanart#aria asks#abigale blackwing#anti cipher society#anti-cipher society#pacifica northwest#timestuck au#gravity falls#gf#sketch#gravity falls au#gravity falls fanart#gf fanart#gf au#Thurburt mudget Waxstaff#Thurburt mudget Waxstaff iii#father tinsley O’Pimm#tinsley O’Pimm#Horace broadshoulder#Jessamine Delilah gulch
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The Bad Batch
Here's a little theory for you to mull over; I sincerely wonder whether I am alone in thinking this. I could also be heavily exhausted over and influenced by the papers I had to polish off for some of my college courses, or perhaps motivated by the fact that I am re-watching The Bad Batch because most modern shows these days, in my opinion, disappoint. At any rate, here it is.
Why do we like the Bad Batch so much? What makes them relatable and/or realistic?
Upon meeting Omega, most of the Bad Batch behave in a very dad-like manner. This is not surprising, no. Plenty of memes and incorrect quotes have stemmed from this simple observation. They don't have all the answers and they don't know what to do with Omega half the time. That's the thing about dads... usually, they're just "winging it" and trying to do their best. Moms come with a built-in instinct to nurture. Dads come with a built-in instinct to protect and lead. Sometimes, dads aren't quite sure what to do with a crying infant or a struggling teenager.
Let's not forget... Hunter and the others are soldiers. That isn't to say they can't be kind or gentle; even the toughest men have their weak points. As a military brat, though, I have noticed that such a profession can mold a man, and at times they forget to "turn off" their seriousness when at home after having dealt with extremely hard situations. I really appreciate that the producers of this show didn't change Hunter and the others just to make them more approachable from Omega's standpoint. If they do change, it's gradual.
Do Hunter and the others think about the consequences of bringing Omega into their lives? *eyeballs toothpick man* With exceptions, of course. Well, until season three. The answer? Absolutely not. They believe they have the strength and ability to keep her safe, as most dads would. They believe they will always have that strength and ability. Let me break it down for you and give you a look into the brain of a dad:
Dad: *involved in a dangerous situation*
Dad: I can do that.
Dad: *remembers their child is with them*
Dad: Oh. Well, I guess becomes a life lesson. I've got you, kid. Just... don't tell your mom.
Dad: *keeps an eye out for anything suspicious*
Kid: *perfectly content*
I've heard it said that dads don't say "I love you" but show they love you. I personally have experienced both, but given the seriousness of most dads... I can see how that would be the case. At the very least, their actions speak louder than words. The Bad Batch are very much this way towards Omega. They put their lives on the line. They want to make her happy. Wrecker assembles a spot for Omega to call her own on the Marauder. Tech grabs her before an explosion can reach them. Echo has hugged Omega the most. Hunter is usually within three feet of Omega at all times.
The subtle gestures of kindness captivated all our hearts, I know.
Why?
It's Star Wars, a fictional universe. It's not complete fiction, though. Hunter and the others represent a specific kind of love. Fathers may be cautious and unsure at first, but eventually they want the kid by their side for everything. We've all seen the videos of dads using infants as pretend machine guns or making them dance, the kid's neck rolling lazily. Gently, of course. If they can't protect the kid from everything, they use themselves as a shield, which extends to good mothers, too, though that's not what this post is about.
Hunter and the others may be soldiers, but they embody the very spirit of fatherhood. This was such a wonderful theme to see develop despite the grittiness and action.
Phew, I feel like there was more I wanted to say, but I'm tired, so you're spared from more rambling.
#the bad batch#tbb#tbb spoilers#star wars#star wars tbb#fatherhood#fatherhood in star wars#star wars dads#tbb hunter#tbb wrecker#tbb tech#tbb crosshair#tbb echo#star wars the bad batch#I hope many of y'all have experienced a love like this#this show is so precious if you really think about it#they may be soldiers but they have hearts of gold and quite frankly we need more of that in shows#bring back fictional families that love each other#I'm so glad Crosshair came around eventually#Hunter is the ultimate dad like they're all ultimate dads but Hunter is special#“touch her and you're a dead man” like let's not forget Echo said this literally after only having known Omega for a short time
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oooooh HELLO NEW CONTESTANT!!
Ps. Im so sorry for whoever has to see this huge chain of reblogs.
So yeah that was semi the plan love love love your thoughts except I had the idea that eventually they would find the cure BECAUSE of wade. Since wade can consent (and can restrain himself not to chomp people) he (unfortunately) would infact be the perfect test subject and because logan is definitely not gonna let some assholes test his lover without making sure its ethical and not harm him more then good, Wade would be quite accepting.
It also helps (Now don't look at me like that- you gotta understand his situation) that wade is very food and affection motivated so yes while he does still feel pain and heals slower then usual (still way faster then a human) it would only be natural for him to whine or not want hurt.
So yeah, in between shots and what not he's given pieces of meat and hugged, nuzzled, etc.
"One more and then were done. Hear me?" Logan tells them, coming to wade, Giving him some left overs and putting his arm around him.
"Just one more okay? Then we'll go see the girls."
He nods, mouth already full of the food, happy at the mention from the girls.
Another thing is Wade dosn't just wonder off in a sense of he dosn't know what hes doing or just aimlessly is leaving like how other zombies mindlessly walk around. Wade "wonders off" mainly because he knows if he dosn't eat anything soon hes going to hurt someone and he dosn't want that so he removes himself from the situation.
He also eats just about anything. Yeah he heavily prefers meat because something about the virus craves protein, its why his muscles have gotten weaker too but the virus knows of they eat their host there wont be anymore.
Most zombies die because the virus starves and has to eat the host, but because when they eat wades cancer it just keeps coming back, and eventually the cancer would whoop the virus's ass due to sheer out numbering but I like to think that before things get better (much like cancer) it gets WAY worse.
So yes, for a year or two hes off an on, randomly being feral the first year but the second year only being feral about once a month for a short period of time.
He slowly is becoming better and better as the third year rolls around to the point where he hasn't been feral in awhile, slipping up only because he hasn't eaten in 2 days, in which Logan apologizes to him because it's winter and theres not much to spare.
Wade knows he gets fed last, and honestly isn't too upset about it. He's lucky to get food twice a day simply from how scarce it is. In the summer its a lot better, much more animals come out, theres a lot of plants, hell the girls started a garden before Logan and Wade even found them so often times they have food its just... not.. sustainable.. for wade.
Yes, he'll eat it. He'll eat it all, clear his entire plate like hes been starving for months but he needs the protein. He needs the high fat content. Its why he gets a lot of beans.
Laura had even managed to trade for a chicken that first year but uhhhhhh wade ate it.... just... mauled the poor thing. Ripped it to shreds. It made gabs cry because she already named the hen "Penny". Well. No more penny. And now Wade isnt allowed out back by the chicken coop no more.
Sometimes, still 3 years later, She'll catch wade crouched down and staring at them with such wide eyes, like a cat watching a fish in a bowl.
"What are you doin? Get away from there! You know better." She'll tell him and he'll whine at her a bit because once in a great while Logan will let him pet the chickens. He'll hold it tight and let Wade run his fingers on its back with the biggest grin. But after whats happened to penny? No sir. He wasnt allowed to pet them without Logan around.
He's just so... hungry. And there's nothing really anyone can do about it. Because of this though, Wade makes a great hunter and well... sometimes.. even in the third year half of the animal will be eaten by the time he brings it home but he does infact bring home many intact kills. It sucks though because bassically anything Wade puts his mouth on or licks immediately is thrown out and cant be eaten by the girls or logan, So yeah.. Logan gets frustrated when Wade comes home with a useless deer because wade already took a chunk out of it.
By the fourth year wade is allowed to sleep in the house nightly, is allowed to hug the girls each day, and can control himself enough to even have dinner with them as a family. Year 4s biggest issue right now is that he keeps trying to kiss them. Trying to kiss the girls cheeks, trying to kiss logan, and he keeps trying to share food, trying to give Gabs more vegetables off his plate when now her entire plate is ruined because of cross contamination.
From what they know is that this virus is similar to rabies because it stems from the same family in which feasts on proteins and fat but its evolved enough to understand that the host needs to be able to do things such as swallow and walk so they do not attack the spinal cord or the ceribellum which controls movements. Unlike rabies in who devoures the brain, rendering the person not to be able to swallow and mindlessly walks around looking for water especially in heavily dense human population with zero fear. (Seen in foxes the most)
The zombie virus does attack the Broca's area though in which controls speech. They attack other parts of the brain like memory logic and processing but because of how much cancer wade has it just keeps growing back.
Some early days of being bitten he will just stare at you like a dementia patient trying to remember who you are, other days he will run into a door and then just stand there like a sim who cant move because theres a plate on the ground.
It also is better for him to NOT get bit or licked again by other zombies so after year one Logan stops letting him eat other zombies, noticing that he gets worse afterwards because he becomes reinfected. This- Has limited wades food sources to human grade stuff, aka.... a lot less.. which causes more snappiness for a few days, but after 2 weeks he improves a lot.
By year 5 he has an entire week straight where he is unconscious, growling and struggling against the chains in the shed. Logan is sitting out side of the shed on a stump, crying because he dosn't know what happened or what to do. Wade was doing so good to the point he was starting not to worry about him biting anymore and now he was at square one.
The next day he sees that the noise has stopped and wade is pased out for another good week. Logan is almost relieved. He thinks Wades body finally gave up. Finally died.
He sobs that morning, Whispering thank yous to nothing and im sorrys. He dosnt even know why hes apologizing, he didnt do it. If he could put wade out of his misery he would have done it years ago, so this is a blessing.
Laura, much like her father, has very mixed feelings, crying behind closed doors but is glad. Finally he wouldn't hurt anymore.
Being barley 18 now, Gabs still sobs. Cries that its not fair that her papa died. Cries because he was so nice to her and now he was gone for good. She would never get to hug her papa ever again.
This was until...anyway.. when 8 days later theres a soft knock on the inside of the shed. Logan couldn't bare the idea of him coming back and hurting the girls so he sealed off the shed, being his husbands forever tomb.
At first he thinks its a cruel joke. "Gabby, quit! That's not funny-"
"What dad?"
But if gabs wasn't doing that, and lauras in the house..
Carefully, he unlocks it, peeking in to see Wade awkwardly standing here. Blinking.
"...hai..?"
"....hi...??"
"...urrhhm... yor wracked meh n hare.."
Logan swears hes gone insane, he could have SWORN his dead husband just said "You locked me in here" and "hi"
His skin looking better, less open gashes and healed up, still scarred up but no longer really decomposing.
This has to be a dream right?
"..no.. No. Ha! Heh.. no."
"...no rhat?"
He stares in disbelief, wondering how in gods name he was alive still. And talking? Like.. actually talking.. Tears run down his face faster then he can think, Gabby is already crying and quickly unchaining him. "You're the worst dad ever!! Yo-you know that!?" She sobs, angry from the hurt but also so glad that he was okay.
"Ar rnow... I Sarry."
"B-but you were gone- I... I saw you.. you were rotting and everything.."
"Rhat rRh- er... h-harppins." He smiles softly, worried just how much he upset his family, and is even more worried by how tight Logan held him and sobbed into his shoulder. "You fucking IDIOT!" He cries, breaking a few of his ribs.
"Aouch! Owr" he whines, turning his head from him and everything, not wanting any of his saliva to touch Logan despite him desperately trying to bury himself in his neck.
It wasn't much Laura seen her father like this, but she has a pretty similar reaction, complete with a slap and telling him to never die on them ever again.
"Nor pramases!"
Hello there. You must be crying by now. Dont worry so am I. If anyone wishes to draw zombie wade I would be extremely happy. Different stages would be so cool to see. I might do a little sketch if I have time. Anyway. Here. You will need these.
I dont CARE that it's November 9th and "Halloweens over" ITS MY BIRTHDAY MONTH ILL POST IF I WANT TOO
Anyway.
Thinking about apocolpse au.
Wade getting bitten by a zombie, Logan freaking out, Wade dying, and him coming back (Again)
"Didn't you just die?? I literally fucking burried you!!"
And wades like:
"Of course. Man, God REALLY hates you dosn't he?"
And he's bassically the same person except just saying, "Rahhah har ran re" (translation: I think the devil doesn't want me either)
"What?? Oh for fucks sake... tell me you're kidding.."
"Rah?" 🤔
"Great so now you stink more and you can't talk. Fucking lovely."
"Mmmmh..." 🥺 (would you still love me if I was a zombie?)
"*sighs, blushes and grumbles how insane this is and how much of a bad idea this is* Fine! Come on...."
"Raah!!" 😄
And sometimes his limbs fall off because I think it would be funny if you just saw him stop, turn around, pick up his arm and shove it back into place like a dislocated shoulder. (Marvel Magic)
But its very obvious that Wade is still consious and so logan leads him around, puts a leash on him, ties him up when he goes to sleep the first few nights so wade dosn't eat him, sometimes luring him with a piece of his thigh or telling him he'll feed him soon to make him behave.
The only thing about this resource wise is that it seems Wade is a bottomless pit, not ever able to get enough. It's like all the nutrients just pass right through him, so he can't get fed meals daily, but Logan will share at least one bite of his food. It makes Wade so happy and way more "wade like" than zombie.
Logan has learned that the hungrier Wade gets the worse it would be, snapping at logan a few times.
"Grr-"
"Aye! That's enough outta ya"
"GggRah!"
"Hey!! I said no! Bad! Bad wade!"
"Mmmh??"
"Bad!!"
"Mmh....rahah.."
"I forgive you. But stop trying to bite me. I feed you, don't I? I hold your hand and tell you that I love you?"
Wade is actually extremely friendly for a zombie (duh) and still yaps at logan except its nonsense. Logan tries hard to understand him and talk back.
He holds his hand sometimes, even lays next to him only to scold him if he gets too bitey. This is hard because wade already had a biting issue and seeing as he practically ate anything or anybody now it was more difficult.
"...aahh-"
"Wade- No."
"Ggr.. raahh"
"Wade! No! Bad."
"Mmmh..."
"Ill feed you tomarrow. Don't bite me mkay? You wanna hurt me?"
He shakes his head like a dog shaking off from a bath, or that ate a bee.
"Then don't bite me."
"Mmh? Mrah?"
"No. No kisses right now. Im still not even sure if thats safe.."
"Mmmh...🥺 ahrrah?"
"No, not even a tiny one."
"Mm...😔"
Until Logan grunts and pecks his hand. "There. Happy?"
"🙂↕️mh"
"Good."
Honestly Logan felt bad, pitited him. No matter what food he ate it wasnt enough substance to sustain him and sometimes Logan would wake up to find him eating a different zombie that made the mistake of trying to eat Logan.
You ever wake up in the morning, lose your zombie boyfriend, call for him only to walk outside and see him knawing on some poor chaps arm like a happy puppy who found a chicken leg? Logan has. Many times. And he wishes his phone would charge so he could take a picture of it but unfortunately theres no electricity in the post apocalypse world.
This being said Logan is like- THE perfect guy for apocalypse au because he can smell everything and hear anyone before they even get to you, he has better wilderness survival skills then anyone I know and he'll never NOT have a weapon on him because of his claws. The only downside is that he's tired easily, needs a lot of food, and would lowkey be withdrawing from his tabccao and alchool, therefore very moody.
"Stupid fucking apocalypse having to happen when im fucking alive!! Why can't I just NOT live through ONE major historical event! Is that too fucking much to ask? One damn decade where everything is fine and dandy and- WADE! Get your ass away from that!! It's radioactive!! For fucks sake!"
"Rahahrah?"
"NO!! You can not become Spiderman! That's not how that works!"
"Aawr..😔"
The whole thing is they're on a quest to find Laura and Gabby, because when everything went to shit, they were on a cabin trip and now Logans brain is itching because he dosn't know where his babies are and its driving him insane. Once he finds them, they're gonna shack up somewhere with food and animals to hunt, and hes gonna make a little shed outside for Wade to sleep because he'll kill him if he bites one of the girls.
He dosnt care that much about himself really and he hates himself deep down for not being able to trust wade anymore but even wade dosnt trust wade, sometimes wandering off on purpose, staying about 30 feet away from him at all times, growling and giving Logan that glazed over look of unconsiousness. The only good thing about this, though, is after he removes himself from the idea of hurting Logan (because if logaj were to become infected - HA! Your all fucked. Utterly fucked. The whole humanoid species would go extinct because he'd kill anything that moved) he feels more trusting of him and it's not uncommon for them to hug after either. Afterall Wade- Some how???- is still wade and is very affectionate and sensitive when its not returned.
This whole thing also makes him think worse about himself, kicking reflective objects or staring at himself in a shop window in utter shock and disgust with a face of 'thats me..?' While logans raiding the place for supplies.
Did you know zombies can cry? Well, Wade could. Not a lot, only able to get a bit of liquid from dehydration, but sometimes Logan will catch him just... sitting there.. crying. Upset with himself for being bit. Upset with himself for trying to bite logan all the time. Upset at how ugly he is. Upset that he's starving all the time. Upset that he can't even talk to anyone, and Logan just has to guess what he's saying 90% of the time. Bro is literally
When they DO find Laura and Gabby, the girls are doing great. Laura was going to blow wades head off until Gabby ran in the shot, hugging him instantly, only to be ripped away.
"Of course my dad is the weirdo married to a zombie." Laura grunts, but is secrelty happy that wade is still 'alive'
Gabby, being as young as she is, thinks it's so SICK that her dad is a zombie now, giggling when he talks to her and holding his hand. She's not allowed near him for long, and not at all by herself, but Gabby bassically becomes Wades number one supporter, defending him when he messes up and snaps at laura.
"He's just hungry!! He's not bad! It's not bad to be hungry!" She'll say. "You wouldn't kill me if I was hungry.." she tells her bigger, more survival oriented sister whos suggested putting wade out of his misery, for his own sake. "I tried that... he found me again 3 days later." Logan tells her with a pang in his chest. It had taken everything in him to kill him the first time, and sobbed himself to sleep the next 2 days. By the third when he noticed Wade following him from a distance he couldn't believe it.
Not even the apocalypse could keep them away from each other..
#zombie au#laura kinney#gabby kinney#deadpool and wolverine#poolverine#logan howlett#wade wilson#deadpool#deadpool 3#wolverine#deadclaws#zombies are bassically just rabid humans#with protein deficiency#apocalypse
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Hellooo, may I request something Keatlejuice x reader ?
I was thinking of something inspired from the “do you think I’m qualified” scene from the first movie and basically the idea is: Beetlejuice keeps flirting with reader, which hasn’t been very successful so far… But at some point his voice switches back to his “normal” one and reader pauses because since when does he sound so good??
He notices the reaction and kind of uses it to his advantage to make reader swoon hehe
Thank youu :))
okay- don't mess this up, don't mess this up, don't mess this up... HI THERE MY LITTLE LOVELY CONSTELLATION! Okay, full disclosure, I've never watched either of the Beetlejuice movies. I don't really know how the model exactly works, so I'll make it to similar to the musical; where you just find him on the roof. (I HOPE THAT'S OKAY, DARLING) So yeah, I've never watched either of the movies... I KNOW THE PLOT OF THE FIRST ONE THOUGH, AND I WILL EVENTUALLY WATCH THEM BOTH I SWEA- As far as Keatlejuice goes, I don't know a thing about that scene, and nothing came up when I looked it up, so I'm just going to go off of what you typed. 😀 Please feel free to criticize if it's inaccurate. OKAY, HERE YA GO, LOVELY <3 Happy reading! - Star ★ -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, Suggestive Themes, Mentions of Break-Up -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- - ★ - Spooky Smooth - ★ - Lying on your bed, listening to some music, it's about 2am. You have your earbuds in, connected to your phone, and are wearing some comfortable shorts and your favorite hoodie. You begin fiddling with the drawstrings, thinking of who gave it to you, then you frown in sadness. It was given to you by your now ex-partner, and they were a jerk. A TOTAL JERK. It all ended at dinner last night. But you hung on, and you still can't figure out why. But that's not why you're sad. You're angry and upset and heartbroken all at the same time, for letting yourself believe that they loved you. It crushed your heart into billions of pieces when they repeated to you that you just weren't good enough. They weren't the first ex, definitely not, and so, as usual, you thought they were the one. You poured your heart and soul into that relationship, only to have your heart shattered. You saw them in the bed with that fucking chick from some cheap-ass bar. You were so angry that you did things to them that you weren't proud of. You impaled all four tires on their small old Nissan Versa, to be specific. You wanted to do so much more, but your heart couldn't take it, and it crushed you in the most tragic way possib-
You drift back to reality as you hear something shuffling above you. It sounds like it's coming from the attic or the roof. You assume it's some sort of critter, and almost fix your earbuds back into your ear, until you hear something... sobbing, perhaps? Sniffling? Letting your curiosity get the best of you, you push your earbuds back in, still listening to the sad, yet comforting music, and you climb out of your window onto the roof. You climb up to the top, and quickly find yourself captivated by the stars. It seems to ground you for the first time you've felt content in a while. You pause your music, hearing something else. It's the sound of a small flyer blowing in front of you. Curiously, you grab it, wondering what it might say. Betelguese - The Bio-Exorcist. Speak my name three times. Betelguese? Like the star? Eh, sounds strange, and this flyer seems pretty aged and old. But how'd it get up high on the roof? You consider calling whoever this 'Betelguese' person is. If they're a bio-exorcist, then they could get rid of your nasty ex. After all, that bitch has some shit comin'. "Bettle-goose, Bettle-goose, Bettle-goose." You close your eyes, expecting something crazy to happen, but the only movement and sound are the stars twinkling and the crickets below chirping. You suddenly see another flyer blow by, and you pick that one up as well. Beetlejuice - The Bio-Exorcist. Speak my name three times. Now you understood. Whoever this person is, they must be here, and so, you put your earbuds back in their designated case, preparing for what's to come. You hold your hoodie in a self-hug, bracing yourself and you begin: "Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice." You close your eyes once again, fearing that something large might happen that might spook you, but instead you hear a raspy voice say, "It's showtime~" Suddenly, a giant puff of green smoke appears in front of you, and you're slightly startled, but your curiosity overpowers your fear. Standing there before you is some sort of creature? No, this must be the Beetlejuice guy. He's in a black-and-white striped tuxedo, complete with some typical black shoes. Though, it's all dirty, covered in green spots from here to there. His hair is a pale green, sticking out in all different directions, and his eyes are surrounded by black circles, and you can't tell if it's a fashion choice or not. "Hiya, Babes!", he says, his voice still raspy and rough. "H-Hello..", you reply, slightly still startled. He comes over and sits on the roof in front of you. "So, I heard ya' called m'name three times! Tre!", he says as he's holding up three fingers, his fingernails looking a little overgrown. 'He knows Italian? How strange...', you think. He puts his elbows on his knees, and lays his head on his hand, in a relaxed position. "So what's a pretty lil' thing like YOU doing, callin' a bio-exorcist?", he says, his eyes filled with flirtation. Damn. Straight to the point, you guess. "I-I've had my heart broken by some bitch, and I need you to get rid of them...", you say, while trying to avoid eye contact, as you can feel your eyes show your anger. His other hand comes up to his face as well, until he's resting in both of his hands. "Well then, who's the bastard, and we can make a deal, Babes! Don't worry, I don't bite-", he says as his hands come back to his knees and he leans closer.
"Unless... if you're into that sort of thing, Babes..", he says as he winks, his voice suddenly changed. It's no longer raspy and rough, but DAMN, it's smooth and gentle. You feel your cheeks flush, definitely flustered from his flirtatious remark. "I- uh, uhm-...", you stutter, trying to find the words to respond. He chuckles at your reaction, and he replies to you stuttering, "So, what do ya say, Babes? Wanna make a deal with the devilishly sexy?”.
He's so close to your face now, it's almost burning with electricity. You nod slowly, not knowing how else to respond. You've been holding your breath for a long time now, but your lungs are far from their limit. He winks, and brushes your thigh with his hand, and snaps his fingers. You release the breath you've been holding, as you realize that he's dissappeared into a cloud of smoke, leaving you breathless. "Damn, that voice..."
- ★ - Written by Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -
#beetlejuice#beetlejuice x reader#beetlejuice x y/n#my post#keatlejuice#michael keaton#betelgeuse#beetlejuice movie
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Fate
Pairing: Bucky x Reader (soulmate AU)
Summary: Your soulmate isn't anything like you thought they'd be.
Warnings: Canon level violence, Canon compliant (so far), angst.
Word Count: 639
A/N: This is a series! I might keep it short, but if people love it enough I'll drag it out. If I do drag it out there may be eventual smut. I'll edit this post if that happens to include proper warnings.
Read part one here
The Wait
It had been years since you had seen him. Your soulmate. The only time you had ever seen him. Well, in real life anyway. After you returned home that day, you looked into the Winter Soldier, Hydra, and SHIELD to see what you could find out. It definitely helped that the news that Hydra fell was made public within hours of it happening. You guessed, no hoped, that he had only been their pawn. You came to believe that he must be Sargeant James Buchanan Barnes. Different theories abounded online about the identity of the Winter Soldier after everything that transpired. But you didn't need those to come to that conclusion. A shrine full of World War Two books, maps, figurines, and the like stood tall in the corner of your apartment. Well, the space wasn't very big since neither was your apartment. You definitely knew who Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and the rest of the Howling Commandos were though. Interest and curiosity of the heroes (and the war) had held you in its grip since you were a teenager. You studied that face enough times growing up to know that the Winter Soldier had to be him. Realization never dawned on you at the time you met him due to the shock of the situation. But shortly afterwards, you were sure of it.
Of course, as time passed it turned out that the Winter Soldier was indeed Sargeant James Barnes. You watched the news the day of King T'Chaka's assassination. Despite the heartbroken state you found yourself in after hearing the news, you were certain it couldn't have been him. Why on earth would he wear those clothes? He had never once dressed like that as the Winter Soldier. Why would he use a bomb? He was a sharp shooter. That would be way easier, more precise, and stealthier. Besides, he had been an assassin, not a terrorist. Not that either were a good thing. It just didn't make sense that it would have been him.
Luckily, it turned out it wasn't him. He had been framed. You heard the news on the tv that your soulmate had gone back on the run, back into hiding, after the fight between the Avengers. Years had already passed at that point, and you wondered when you were going to get to meet him properly.
You refused to date during this time. Plenty of people did while waiting for their soulmates. You had too, before you received your tattoo that night. But after seeing him the next day, and knowing he was real, you decided you would wait for him, however long that took.
After what felt like an eternity, the blip occurred. And you had disappeared with it. For five years. Five years the world kept moving on while half its population was gone. You weren't entirely sure if Bucky had disappeared in the blip too or not. It didn't really matter though, as you still hadn't met eachother since that first day.
You had seen his new vibranium arm though, and you half-expected your star tattoo to disappear and turn into something else. You were glad things seemed to be going better for him. You hoped he was happy. You just wished you could be there to make him happy yourself.
You stayed in your apartment in Brooklyn. Hoping that one day you might see him here, since it was his hometown. So far, of course, you had had no such luck. Your days blurred together, working retail and coming home just to give yourself enough time to mentally rest yourself before the next shift. You didn't have a very exciting life, but it didn't matter. You kept yourself busy. That way you didn't have time to think about what you might be missing out on. You just hoped that someday soon you could finally meet him again. Properly, this time.
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Steddie | R: Explicit (for eventual smut) | WC:4225 | Ch 2/8 | AO3
Ch 1 <-
Chapter 2: This Haunted House Is Not A Home
Eddie slumped in the corner, watching for longer than he’d ever be willing to admit to another soul, while Steve slept.
It was fitful at first, and for a while every twitch under the sheets was accompanied by soft groans and whimpers. Steve never roused fully, but it was clear he was in a lot of pain even at rest. Eventually though, he fell still, his breath coming deep and even as the wrinkles in his forehead smoothed out.
The sun was beginning to rise by the time Eddie wandered out into the hall, finally growing bored of snooping around the plaid nightmare Steve called a bedroom, appalled to have found absolutely nothing incriminating—granted, he hadn’t tried to get into the closet—and he was left itching to explore the rest of the house.
It was… depressing, to say the least.
Eddie hadn’t really noticed before, being a little distracted with his own situation on their jaunt up the stairs a few hours ago, but there was nothing on the walls anywhere in the Harrington home, save for a few tasteful—read: boring—works of art.
Using the term art loosely, of course.
Not a single baby picture, school photo, or family portrait was displayed anywhere. Though Eddie did at one point come across a small album with Steve’s name written in blue across the spine, tucked high on a shelf in what must be his parents bedroom.
The entire house was painfully staged. Except for the things that clearly belonged to Steve and stuff the rest of the party left behind scattered around the living room, it was as if the whole thing was a lifeless showpiece. A floor model, like those fake kitchens and shit set up in fancy furniture stores
To think Steve had grown up in this place with no warmth, no substance, no feeling.
It made Eddie sad to imagine.
He may have hopped from house to house for a while before landing with Wayne, but his uncle had made sure he felt at home, welcome and comfortable from day one. Their trailer was full of mementos… or, it had been. Eddie supposed it was all rubble or less by now, but nothing could take away his memories of those crowded walls, adorned with everything from embarrassing snapshots of his own sixth grade graduation, to Wayne’s extensive coffee mug collection. Not to mention all the hats, and tiny commemorative spoons from every State and truck stop they’d ever gassed up at during their summer road trips to his uncle’s favorite fishing hole.
Love housed in many forms, everywhere you looked.
When late morning hit, Eddie was still wandering around, going from one window to the next to watch the horribly bland suburban world go by, and tried desperately not to consider the fact that this might be his life now.
Steve still hadn’t come down, and there hadn’t been so much as a peep or a footstep from that part of the house. It made sense that Steve might sleep in, needing more rest than normal while he was healing, but there was a gnawing feeling in the back of Eddie’s mind telling him that this wasn’t good.
After warring with himself over it for a moment he returned to Steve’s room, quietly tip-toeing over to the bed to check on him.
“Steve?” Eddie said tentatively as he got close.
Steve’s face was as white as a sheet. His hair was stuck to his brow, soaked through with sweat. The covers had slipped down a bit since last night, showing his shirt similarly drenched too, and though his chest rose and fell in rhythm, his breaths were weak and shallow.
When Steve didn’t so much as twitch in response, Eddie climbed up onto the bed, noting that while he could in fact do that, the mattress didn’t dip at all under his weight.
“Steve?” He called again, a little louder and more insistent this time as he hovered over the other boy's frame. “Come on, big boy, you gotta wake up.”
With rapidly growing panic, Eddie reached down to grasp Steve's shoulders. For a split second he actually made contact, but as he tried to shake the other boy awake he lost it, hands slipping right through to the mattress below.
For better or worse, that momentary touch had told him enough.
Steve was burning up.
It wasn’t that otherworldly fluttering heat from the night before either. That buzz that had shot through him and had made his whole body break out in goosebumps when he’d last held Steve’s body.
No, he was raging with fever.
“Wake up, Steve!” Eddie shouted frantically, his throat growing tighter and tighter as Steve continued to be unresponsive. “Please—please don’t do this. I need you. We all need you–”
He sat back on his heels at the foot of the bed, running a hand through his hair.
He felt solid to himself, damnit. He could feel his hands in his hair right now. It was part of what made the whole ghost thing so hard to believe. Wouldn’t he know if he was dead? Wouldn’t he feel dead?
Or maybe it was all just wishful thinking.
That was a problem for another day. He needed to get Steve help, somehow, and he needed to do it now.
Eddie jumped off the bed and raced downstairs, making a beeline for the kitchen. If he could just dial 911—
But, naturally, the one time he really, really needed to make it happen, he couldn’t manage to touch the stupid phone. Maybe if he concentrated really hard on it?
Before he could bring himself to try a second time, the phone started to ring.
Eddie prayed it was Robin or one of the kids calling to check in. Even knowing it was futile, he reached for the handset, stomping his feet angrily when he failed yet again.
Goddamnit!
Think, Munson, think!
What had been different last night when he’d managed to touch Steve for almost a full minute?
Well, he’d been annoyed at first, then a little turned on if he was honest. Obviously his concern for Steve’s well-being had taken center stage once he’d gotten a look at how badly hurt he still was, but wounded or not, a shirtless Steve Harrington was a fucking sight to see. Eddie would challenge anyone—gay, straight, or otherwise—to stand in his presence and be unaffected.
But surely horny ghost magic could not possibly be a thing.
No, he’d been worried. Like, really fucking worried. The same way he felt just now when he couldn’t get Steve to wake. He hadn’t thought about what he was doing, he’d just acted.
This time Eddie tried to clear his mind, no thoughts, no doubts, no anything, instead of attempting to force it. Which… trying to actively clear your mind was fucking impossible, it turned out, but he did his best before reaching out again.
His hand met nothing but air.
“Motherfucker!” He shouted, kicking out violently at the wall.
His foot hit sheetrock hard, sending shockwaves up his leg and spine. The wall shook, knocking the phone off the hook to hang upside down by its cord.
Eddie threw his head back and laughed, a burst of hope sparking in his chest, before squatting down to yell into the receiver. “Hello! Hello?!”
He could hear Robin doing the same on the other end of the line.
Right.
The only person who could hear him was lying unconscious upstairs.
“Steve, are you there? Steve?!” Robin’s voice cried out, tinny through the earpiece.
Eddie let his ass plop down on the floor, leaving him mouth level with the receiver as he dropped his head into his hands. “He’s in bad shape, Buckley,” he said, softly this time since it didn’t matter anyway. “And I can’t do anything about it. I feel so helpless.”
“I don’t like this,” Robin said over the line again after a long moment of silence. “Steve, If you can hear me just–just hang in there, okay? I’m coming over.”
Eddie heaved a sigh of relief, rubbing hard at his eyes. “Thank fuck.”
From his vigil at Steve’s bedside, Eddie heard the sound of the front door creaking open and slamming closed, as Robin—at least he hoped it was Robin—let herself into the house.
“Steve?” Her familiar voice called from downstairs.
Relief flooded him again in an overwhelming wave that made him want to both cheer and sob. His body went lax with it, everything but his gaze. That remained fixed on the bed in front of him, unblinking where it was set on Steve’s face, as if Eddie’s eyes on him could keep him safe until real help arrived.
“We’re up here!” Eddie shouted out in a choked voice, forgetting again for a moment that she couldn’t hear him.
Whatever.
“Cavalry’s here,” he murmured softly to the still form below. “You’re gonna be okay now, Steve.”
In seconds Robin was pounding up the stairs and flying through the open bedroom door. “Oh my god—Steve?!” She cried, lunging for the bed. Eddie lurched out of the way on instinct just before she threw herself at Steve’s comatose figure.
She shook his arm, shouted his name, and at one point Eddie thought she was about to slap him across the face before thinking better of it, scrambling down off the bed to run into the attached bathroom.
Curious, he followed, watching her grab a towel and fill a cup with cold water from the sink.
Yes! Genius girl!
She marched back out, whispering half-hearted apologies before dumping the entire thing right in Steve’s face.
It worked, though not quite as Eddie expected. Rather than gasping awake, sputtering and maybe yelling about getting water all over his bed, Steve whined, high and pitiful and heartbreaking.
Eddie would have much preferred the first option.
Steve’s head lolled from side to side, lips parting to reveal chattering teeth, before one eye and then the next slowly cracked open.
“Eddie?”
“What? No, i-it’s me,” Robin said, her voice shaking a little along with her hand as it reached up to feel Steve’s forehead. “God—you’re really burning up.”
“I’m here, Steve.” Eddie answered after a beat, moving around to kneel down on the other side of the bed. His name being the first word out of Steve’s mouth on waking was more than a little unexpected, and something he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with, but hearing Steve’s voice, no matter what he said, felt like winning the fucking lottery just then.
“Did you—“ Steve cut himself off, coughing. “Call Robin?”
“Yes, dingus! I called and you weren’t saying anything. You scared me half to death.”
At the same time Robin was replying, having no idea the question wasn’t meant for her, Eddie spoke too. “No, but she called and I… I was able to knock the phone off the wall.”
“S’good,” Steve forced out, swallowing thickly. “I’m not feelin’ so hot today.”
“I’d imagine not—” Robin sighed, leaning in to push the damp hair out of Steve’s eyes. “You idiot. Why didn’t you tell me how bad you were, huh? I knew you should have gone to the hospital.”
“No, no hospital. I-I can't," Steve protested.
“You have an infection!” Robin shrieked.
“I don’t… can’t…” Steve did his best to shake his head, wincing with even that small movement. “Be ‘lone.”
“I know you hate doctors but I'll be with you the whole time,” Robin insisted.
Eddie leaned in to add his own two cents in Steve’s ear. “Trust me, big boy, you’ll be surrounded by nurses. They’ll probably fight over who gets to give you a sponge bath. You won’t be alone.”
“No—” Steve groaned. Until that moment he’d been mostly staring up at the ceiling, but for the first time since he woke, Steve purposely turned his head, looking straight into Eddie’s eyes. “You ‘lone.”
“Oh,” Eddie breathed, a little dumbstruck. He huffed a breathy laugh, trying to ignore the flutter in his belly. “Don’t worry about me, sweetheart, I'm coming along. You can’t get rid of me that easily. Let her take you to the hospital, man.”
The corner of Steve’s mouth twitched as he gave a weak nod. “Okay.”
“See?” Robin bent her body sideways trying to catch Steve's eye. “You're delirious!” She shouted, throwing her hands up. “Come on, I borrowed my mom’s car.”
With an agonizing slowness and pained expression, Steve turned away from Eddie and back to give her a wary glare. “B-but you can’t drive.”
She looked down at him with a raised eyebrow. “I made it here, didn’t I? I’ve been practicing.”
“You been holding out on me, Robs?” Steve teased, weakly.
“Oh shut it, you know you love being my personal chauffeur.”
Somehow Robin managed to get Steve’s shoes on and help him down the stairs and out to the driveway. She had to have been supporting nearly half his body weight, and though she never once let on to Steve that she was struggling, Eddie could see it on her face.
For his part, Eddie hovered, that same feeling of helplessness making him want to rant and rage.
Instead, he kept up a constant stream of encouragement, contributing the only way he could, even if all his words managed to do were keep Steve awake long enough to make it into the back seat of the ugliest station wagon he’d ever seen.
Robin secured Steve with a seatbelt, and Eddie managed to slip into the car past him before she closed the car door. He was pretty sure he could have gone through it if need be, but better safe than sorry since he was still completely fucking lost on how the physics of this shit worked.
Up front, Robin spoke under her breath, babbling to herself about switching gears and keeping her hands at ten and two as the car jerked backwards out of the driveway, and pulled it slowly out onto the road.
Steve sagged in his seat, the belt seemingly the only thing keeping him from sliding to the floorboard, but still he spared what little energy he must have had to give Eddie a strained smile, his hand twitching where it rested on the bench seat as if he wanted to reach out. Eddie slid his hand along the vinyl upholstery, closing the distance until their pinkies would have brushed.
They didn’t, because of course they didn’t, but Eddie was filled again with that pleasant, tingling heat. Steve let out a contented hum, his eyes slipping closed as he relaxed further into the cushion, and Eddie wondered if it felt good for him too. If Steve felt anything at all when Eddie’s form passed through his.
Maybe sometime later he’d be brave enough to ask.
For the second time that day Eddie found himself watching the world go by through glass while Steve slept, this new view even worse than the mundanity of Loch Nora.
Hawkins was a mess.
Some streets and houses were nearly untouched, as if Hell itself hadn’t almost escaped to wreak havoc from beneath their carefully manicured lawns. Others were unrecognizable, homes utterly ruined, the path of destruction marked by deep cracks in the ground. The fissures were partially closed now but the devastation surrounding them told a story, as clear as any other, about how harrowing that terrible night had been, in and out of the Upside Down.
Before long they were pulling up to the sliding doors of the emergency room at Hawkins General, where Robin thankfully remembered to throw the car into park before shouldering her door open and rushing inside, returning a second later with two nurses and a stretcher.
“Hey, man! Watch his head!” Eddie shouted as he climbed out, after the burlier of the two hauled Steve from the backseat too fast and with too little care, in his humble opinion.
His outburst fell on deaf ears, as was usual now, and for someone whose life and passions revolved around his inability to ever shut the fuck up, this not being able to be heard thing was a fate worse than…
Well.
Robin took off after the nurses when they began to roll Steve away. Eddie followed at her heels, only for her to be stopped short by a small woman just outside a large set of double doors as Steve and his entourage continued on.
“I’m sorry, honey. You can’t go back with him,” the new nurse said, holding her hand up to block Robin, who was trying to weave around her. “Go check in with reception. We’ll update you when we can.”
Robin fumed but kept her mouth shut for once, only huffing in frustration before turning on her heel to march away.
“I’ll keep an eye on him, Buckley. Don’t worry,” Eddie murmured.
He didn’t let himself hesitate for even a second, though he did shut his eyes, and walked straight through those closed doors like they were nothing, opening his eyes again on the other side, jogging to catch up to the stretcher carrying his friend.
For the first time since he’d come to in Steve’s living room, he was actually grateful for the whole ghost thing, or whatever this was.
After what felt like an eternity, after a team of doctors and nurses poked and prodded and assessed, and said horrible things like, “thank god he got here when he did,” and “narrowly avoided sepsis,” Steve’s hospital room was finally quiet, save for the electrical hum of fluorescent lights and a monitor.
Eddie sat at his bedside, watching every breath run in and out of his sleeping body, a position he’d become far too familiar with in such a short time.
He heard Robin coming before she’d even reached the door, talking some poor nurse's ear off at a mile a minute all the way down the corridor.
“Sorry I’m late,” she whispered to the room as she stepped inside. She approached the bed opposite Eddie, resting a hip against it as she took Steve’s limp hand in her own.
Eddie tried not to be jealous of the way she could touch so freely.
“Can you believe they wouldn’t let me in till now?” Robin went on, with a light scoff. “Sometimes I forget other people can’t see that we’re a matched set. Maybe when this is all over we should get tattoos that say do not separate.” she paused, letting out a quiet, wet laugh. “I told them you got hurt in the earthquake saving Max and tried to treat yourself at home. I think if she wasn’t here herself they might have asked more questions, but—”
Eddie stepped away at that, moving through the room’s door with the same ease he had earlier, and out into the hallway to give them some privacy. Not that Robin knew he was there, but it seemed like the polite thing to do.
He couldn’t help wondering about Max now anyway, feeling terrible suddenly for not thinking to ask if she and everyone else had made it out okay. Little red must have been hurt pretty bad if she was still here after almost a week.
With Robin watching over Steve, Eddie took a moment to search for the younger girl, and found her only a few rooms away.
Every surface of her suite was covered in drawings and get well cards, fluffy pink teddy bears and floating balloons. He could practically hear Max bitching up a storm about it all, while being secretly pleased at the evidence of so many people caring for her.
Though it was early in the evening, she was already asleep, arm sticking out at her side in a massive cast and one of her legs lifted in traction. It felt wrong to see someone so fierce look so small and vulnerable, her thin frame swallowed up by the enormous bed. But a glance at her chart on the wall showed her vitals were good, and there was a healthy flush to her cheeks.
If anyone could overcome this, it was Max
“Sorry, hun, but visiting hours are over,” a voice called out in the distance, trickling in from the direction of Steve’s room down the hall. “You can come back and see your boyfriend tomorrow.”
Eddie would have paid money to see the look Robin’s face at that.
“See you around, Red,” he whispered, slipping back out just in time to pass Robin on her way to the exit, her cheeks shiny with tears still flowing freely from red, puffy eyes.
It was just the two of them again when Eddie returned to Steve’s room, and this time when he took up his post in the chair next to the bed, he gave in to the urge to hold Steve’s hand, as much as he could at least.
One minute Eddie was laying his head down on the side of Steve’s bed, only intending to ‘rest his eyes’ for a bit—if such a thing was even possible—and the next everything faded to black.
He floated in calm nothingness for seconds or days, completely at peace with the undulating dark, until slowly, gradually something else came into focus.
Something awful and unfortunately familiar.
The dark gray skies and falling ash of the Upside Down loomed overhead, the only color the occasional flash of blood red lightning in the distance. Eddie felt strangely detached from his surroundings, wandering the cold barren wasteland in a daze, barely aware of putting one foot in front of the other.
Not long after it appeared around him the vision of the Upside Down vanished again, and with a strange pulling sensation from behind his belly button, he was yanked away, returned to the inky nothing.
Eddie jerked awake with a gasp, stumbling forward, only just managing to avoid face planting into the carpet of Steve’s living room.
Could ghosts sleep? Could they dream? What the hell had just happened? And how did he get back here?
He had too many questions and exactly zero answers.
After searching the house and finding it as empty as he’d expected, Eddie considered walking back to the hospital, but he had no way of knowing how much time had passed since he’d left Steve’s bedside. It was probably better to just sit tight and wait for him to come home.
Easier said than done.
Another night and day passed, and Eddie was ready to rip his hair out when the headlights of Robin’s borrowed station wagon cut through the dark of early evening to pull into the driveway.
He’d been watching the street from Steve’s bedroom window and quickly made his way down the stairs, taking them two at a time.
“Eddie?” Steve's worried voice called out after the creak of the door. He already sounded a hell of a lot stronger than the last time Eddie had heard him speak.
“Y’know, you're really starting to worry me. It was just a fever dream. I'm telling you you can’t see ghosts!”
“I’m here,” Eddie said, rounding the corner of the living room, skidding to stop right in front of Steve. He wanted desperately to hug him or something, and maybe it was more of that good ole wishful thinking but it sort of looked like Steve wanted to hug him too.
Instead Eddie cleared his throat, glancing at Robin, who stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips, then back to Steve. “Cat out of the bag?”
“Sort of,” Steve sighed, shuffling closer to the couch. “She doesn't believe me.”
Eddie followed, snorting. “I thought you two shared a brain cell?”
Robin threw her hands up “Of course I don’t believe you, Mr. I've-Had-Multiple-Concussions! Who would believe that?!”
“What do you want to do?” Eddie asked, both of them ignoring her for the time being.
“Can you try to touch her, maybe?” Steve suggested. “Do you know how you did it yet?”
“Not really. I think I have to be under a certain amount of like, stress or something?”
“I mean, you are a ghost, that's gotta be pretty stressful already.”
“Oh, ha–ha,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Good one, Harrington.”
“Why don’t you just—” Steve quieted abruptly with a low groan, wobbling on suddenly unstable, shaking legs. Robin surged forward as if she could catch him from across the room, but Eddie was right there. He practically swept Steve off his feet in his effort to keep him from falling, setting him gently but swiftly down on the couch before the ability escaped him again.
Steve beamed.
“What the—” Robin gasped, blinking rapidly at the scene in front of her with her mouth agape.
Eddie narrowed his eyes, leveling a finger in Steve’s face. “You did that on purpose.”
The insufferable ass had the nerve to wink, grinning up at him. “Maybe.”
“You’re already hurt, couldn’t we have found some other way to test it?!” Eddie hissed. “What if it hadn’t worked?”
Steve lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “It did, didn’t it?”
“Eddie?” Robin asked, a little breathy. She looked nervously around the space as she moved to sit down next to Steve. “Is it really him?”
Steve turned to her, and mirroring him, Eddie did the same as they both spoke at once.
“Yeah, Rob. It’s him.”
“Yeah, Buckley. It’s me.
Thanks as always to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta and an absolutely amazing cheerleader!
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