Pairing.ᐟ: Werewolf!Megumi Fushiguro x Bunny!reader
Encapsulation.ᐟ: Megumi suppresses his predatory instincts to be with you by secretly helping your elderly grandmother. After earning your trust and affection, the mutual desire culminates in a passionate, high-stamina sex after he protects you from a werewolf encounter.
Tags.ᐟ: non curse au, beastmen au, smut with minimal plot, cursing, kissing, size difference, mutual yearning, thigh fucking, breeding, multiple orgasms, cunnilingus, cowgirl, unprotected sex, overstim (for megumi), needy!megumi, bottom!megumi, sexdrunk!reader (you’re a bunny so yeah), afab!reader, slight OOC.
Author's Note.ᐟ: This is basically a Little Red Riding Hood twist!
WCᐟ: 1.6K
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Werewolf.ᐟgumi would hide himself in the dense bushes or among the towering trees whenever you took the forest path to visit your grandmother. His instinctual purpose was to hunt down rabbits like you and have his way with them, but he could never bring himself to harm you.
You are a beautiful bunny, far cuter than any he had ever seen in his pack. He watched, entranced by the way your dress swooshed in the wind with every step, the dark, lacey corset that accentuated your chest and waist, and your signature red cloak, complete with custom holes to let your tall bunny ears breathe. And then there was the scent—the sweet, mouth-watering aroma of fresh pastries and of course your pheromones.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi wanted to protect and cherish you. The word "mate" felt far too small a label for what he truly wanted to be to you. He needed you, and he would do absolutely anything to have you.
Eventually, he decided to get closer to your grandmother. While his primary motive was to get closer to you, he also genuinely recognized that she was an elderly woman who struggled to manage the cottage on her own. Your grandmother welcomed the help, completely unfazed by the fact that it came from a massive wolf capable of tearing her apart in a single second.
The next time you walked up to the cottage, you immediately noticed how much the property had improved, from the mended structure to the freshly cleared grounds. Once you pushed the door open, your grandmother sat knitting, calling out a name that wasn't yours.
“Megumi?”
The name left your lips, laced with confusion, but the question was answered instantly when you felt a powerful, predatory presence materialize right behind you. An overwhelming wave of fear made your vision go dark, and you passed out straight into his strong arms.
When you finally came to, the soft sound of laughter drifted in from outside the guestroom. Peeking through the cracked door, you saw the wolf and your grandmother chatting as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Hearing your grandmother find so much joy in his presence unexpectedly warmed your heart.
Over the next few nights, Werewolf.ᐟgumi fully earned your trust. Hearing your grandmother speak so highly of his endless good deeds and his gentle care shifted something inside you. Slowly, you began developing feelings that no bunny should ever harbor for a wolf. He caught on quickly, noticing the exact moment you stopped casting him wary, side-eyed glances and stopped shielding your grandmother when you were all baking or cooking together.
Now, the only reason he was sharing your bed instead of patrolling the perimeter for the pink-haired wolf that had attacked you the night before was because you had begged him not to leave your side.
Still, you definitely weren't expecting to feel something hard and pulsing right against your rear when you woke up. You try to squirm and pull away from him, but the grip he has around your waist is bruising.
“Stop moving.” His voice is husky and groggy, pressing directly against your soft ears. “You’re making it harder.”
“Meg—!” Your protest is cut off immediately as his large, calloused hand covers your mouth.
“Shhh, it’s going to be okay.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling your delicious scent. “Will you be quiet for me?”
Werewolf.ᐟgumi pulls his hand away, feeling your head bob up and down in agreement. Shuffling behind you, he sheds his pants and boxers in one fluid motion. The rustle of the blanket hitting the ground becomes background noise against the hunger-driven kisses he presses into your neck and shoulder.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi chuckles against your skin at the sound of your sweet whimpers. His hand trails down your thigh, gripping it tightly to hike it up so that his already leaking cock can sit right against your covered cunt.
“You wanted to repay me for saving you, right?” he asks. He sets your leg back down, his cock now nestled firmly between your legs, drawing a low groan from his chest.
“Ahmm! Y-yes, but—”
“Please,” he growls into your ear as he slowly fucks your plush thighs. His leaky tip peeks out from between them with every agonizing thrust. His arm drapes over your body again, circling tight around your ribs and leaving you completely hot and bothered.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi smashes his hips into you the moment you start adjusting to his weight. The friction of your thighs around him, the dampness of your cunt seeping through your shorts to coat his shaft, and the pretty moans you can't quite hide behind your hands drive him over the edge.
“This isn’t enough—fuck.” His hand trails down your stomach and into your panties, patting and circling your sensitive clit with his ring and middle fingers.
You have never been with a wolf, and looking down at his twitching cock makes everything feel entirely too real. Of course you want to repay him, but the thought of taking something so big inside your tight walls sends your breathing into a spiral.
He pulls back from your thighs and grips your shoulder, turning you around to face him. Looking at him now, it's obvious how much he is holding back. You see the raw arousal in his striking, normally observant eyes, the blush flushing his pale face and fluffy ears, and the heavy thumping of his bushy tail against the edge of the bed. The ragged way he breathes tells you everything: he wants to devour you.
Before you can say or do anything, Werewolf.ᐟgumi lays back on the mattress and tugs at your thigh to straddle him. Anchored in this position, all you can do is press your hands against his muscular stomach, completely overwhelmed by the towering heat sitting right beneath you. His fingers trace up and down your waist, slowly sliding underneath your shirt to knead your soft stomach.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi looks up at you, his eyes burning with the feral intent to see you as bare as he is, and you nod sheepishly. As you’re stripping off your shorts and underwear, he helps pull your shirt and bra over your head. He can't help himself when he sees your supple breast, his hands grope and squeeze the soft flesh, occasionally running his thumb over your perky nipples.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi has admired you for so long, and part of him wants to make this last forever, but the throbbing ache of his cock and your quiet moans makes his mind foggy. You can tell he wants nothing more than to fill you with his seed and pups. You can't lie to yourself either—you want that too. But he is so big that you're certain if the girth doesn't stretch you to your absolute limit, the length will.
“S’fucking pretty,” he rasps through the haze of lust, choking back a whimper. “Take it for me, baby.”
You do exactly as you are told, aligning yourself over his tip, slowly sinking down, taking his thick shaft into your wet, sopping pussy. The sensation is unreal; he is so much larger than anything you could have ever prepared for. Your gummy walls instinctively clench and pulse around him, terrified, yet eager for the massive new guest.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi groans, his rough hands wander to your plump ass, holding tightly as he watches his cock slowly disappear inside you and bulge in your tummy. The feeling of your body stretching to accommodate him almost makes him coat your walls with his cum right then and there.
Your hips finally meet his pelvis with a wet, heavy clap, you take a few sharp breaths. Before you can even catch your bearing, he uses the mixture of his precum and your juices as lubricant to pump deep inside of you, hitting your sweet spot immediately.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi is usually a patient man, someone who never lets his emotions get the better of him, but there is something about the way you whine on top of him—biting your bottom lip to stifle your moans just because he told you to be quiet—that completely breaks his restraint. You are entirely too good for him, and he is going to prove it by fucking you exactly the way you deserve.
The sticky, squelching of bodies mashing together, bed squeaking from intense thrusting, and the shared moans fill the room. But the wet, sloppy kisses he desperately pulls you into cloud your brain entirely.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi can't help himself from smirk against your lips as he feels you clenching oh so tightly around him with every long, straining stroke.
As the minutes blur together, the intensity of the pleasure catches up to him. He is reaching his peak over and over, each orgasm more explosive than the last. Megumi isn't used to the stamina of a bunny in bed. He fully expected you to beg him to stop or ask for a break, but you seem even more invested in this than he is.
It is quickly becoming too much for him. His cock grows sensitive and slightly soft inside you, balls weak and empty, but he tries his absolute best to keep up with your frantic pace.
His eyes roll into the back of his head from yet another draining orgasm. He lets go of your hips and covers his face, hiding his uncontrollable whines and lewd expression.
“I-is it too much?” you ask, your pace slowly starting to falter.
Werewolf.ᐟgumi's ears twitch instantly. He slams his hands right back onto your hips. The next thrust is angry and forceful, pumping his sperm even deeper into your cunt as your body jerks from the impact. He absolutely hates the thought of not being good enough for you, especially in an act where he is supposed to be completely dominant.
Pairing.ᐟ: Headofzeninclan!Megumi Fushiguro x Wife!reader
Synopsis.ᐟ: You’re arranged to marry the new head of the Zenin clan, Megumi Zenin, in order to strengthen both his and your clans, and preserve their inherited cursed technique with an heir. When you first meet him, he seems cold and almost resentful toward you, but behind closed doors, he slowly reveals the side of himself he keeps hidden from everyone else.
Tags.ᐟ: au where Megumi was sold off to the Zenin clan, smut with plot, forced marriage, cursing, slight mutual yearning, breeding, praise kink, face siting, oral (f!rec), riding, unprotected sex, greedy!megumi, dom!megumi, inexperienced!reader (like really new), sub!reader, afab!reader, slight OOC.
Author's Note.ᐟ: Him being the new clan leader had me giggling while I was watching season 3!
WCᐟ: 3K
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Megumi was born with the inherited Ten Shadows Technique. Upon reaching his twenty-first birthday, he was officially named the head of the clan. He loathed the celebration; while his previous birthdays within those cold walls had never been joyful, his new title brought a crushing weight of expectations from the elders and the higher-up sorcerers.
He was fuming when the elders delivered their latest decree: he was to marry the daughter of an allied clan and produce an heir to ensure their prized technique continued. Beneath his stoic expression, he burned with the urge to argue, to refuse, to walk away—yet he knew the cold logic of the bloodline was inescapable. However, the source of his dissatisfaction wasn't just the duty itself. It was you.
You were the daughter of a clan leader who obsessed over purity and perfection. To the outside world, your family was a model of virtue, but behind closed doors, the environment was unwelcoming and rigid. Despite your status, you were treated with the same restrictions as a servant. In your clan, women were viewed as either tools or objects of pleasure.
When your father finally spoke to you as an actual human being, it wasn't out of affection. He was informing you of your arranged marriage and the necessity of conceiving an heir. Paralyzed by the fear of punishment, you didn't dare to argue, just bowed in silent agreement.
In the days that followed, maids descended upon you to begin the extravagant preparations for the wedding. You were terrified; the dark reputation of the Zenin clan and the intimidating stories of its new head made you shiver. As you walked toward the Zenin residence, you kept your head low, not daring to look up until you stood directly before the man you were to marry.
You hadn't expected someone so… pretty. His face was like that of a doll, crafted with precise and elegant features, while his dark blue kimono framed a strong, lean build. As you quietly took him in, he did the same.
He couldn't deny your beauty. He was struck by your warm features, your soft, expressive lips, and the delicate flush dusting your squishy cheeks. Your floral kimono did nothing to hide the grace of your silhouette. The elders had called you angelic, a description he hadn't taken seriously until this moment.
The wedding was simple, swift, and deeply unpleasant. Under the watchful, judging eyes of both the clans, the only words you managed to whisper to his uninterested face were, "I do." There was no kiss to seal the union. Instead, he led you toward his private chambers in a heavy, stifling silence.
The dim light of the halls only makes your racing nerves skyrocket.
As he slides open the shoji doors, he reveals a large, cavernous room. Stacks of books clutter the corners, a big futon that sits in the middle of the room, and a low black table that sits in front of the bed.
Through the open patio, there is a striking view of a fountain surrounded by Zinnia flowers—the very same floral pattern draped across your body. You wonder if they’re his favorite.
He closes the door and sits at the table, his back to the entrance, as he pours himself a cup of black coffee.
“Sit across from me,” he commands. His voice is deep, laced with a trace of disgust.
You do as you are told, walking to the other side of the table where a pink pillow awaits—perhaps a small preparation for your arrival. You kneel, too frightened to meet his gaze.
Megumi cannot help but watch your hips sway with every motion. It irritates him that he doesn't mind the prospect of an heir with someone so beautiful and compliant. He isn't the type of man to be swooned by looks alone.
“You’re a virgin?” he asks. It sounds more like a clarification than a question as he sips his coffee.
You nod, waiting for his permission to speak as you look down at the wooden table.
“I would like to look at my wife’s face when she answers me,” he states. Your face flushes at the weight of the word wife.
You look up and meet his eyes. “Yes. I... I saved myself for you,” you say, reciting the lines you were coached to deliver. While your innocence is a fact, the claim that you were waiting for him is a blatant lie—one he catches immediately.
“Your father made you say that.” He sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “Making his own daughter lie to me just to save face. Fucking moron.”
“It wasn’t my father,” you whisper, bracing yourself for a punishment. “Please... don’t be upset with him.”
“You’re taking the blame for his stupidity? How foolish.” Despite his words, he finds your attempt to protect the man who sold you into this marriage somewhat admirable.
“I—I won’t lie again, my lord.”
“Don’t ever use formalities with me.” His voice drips with disdain for the title as he sets his cup down.
“Yes, of course... M-megumi.” You squirm on the pillow, twisting your hands together in your lap.
“Do you know that we are expected to produce an heir tonight?” he asks, shifting the subject abruptly.
“Y-yes, sir—Megumi!” You stutter, quickly correcting yourself. A soft smile touches his lips—an expression you never expected to see on a man with his reputation.
“One more slip-up and I might not take it lightly next time,” he says, the corner of his mouth curving into a smirk.
You hum an embarrassed agreement, your heart hammering against your chest. He reaches out, brushing a few stray hairs away from your face and tucking them behind your ear, letting his hand linger there.
“I have no intention of making this marriage unpleasant. We’ll take it slow, okay?” His voice is soft and comforting now—a tone so disarming it could make you follow him anywhere.
“O-okay.”
“Good.” He pulls away from your face and stands up with a low grunt.
Megumi reaches out, offering his hand. You hesitate for a moment before placing your soft, delicate hand in his. He pulls you up and guides you around the table until you are standing directly in front of him. His formidable height easily towers over yours.
“You can speak freely when you’re with me,” he says. He raises your hand to his lips, pressing a small peck to your knuckles while his thumb grazes the shiny wedding ring on your finger.
The gesture makes your head spin; you have never been granted this much free will or focused attention. Your brain nearly short-circuits, leaving you unsure of how to react. A soft chuckle escapes Megumi’s throat, breaking you out of your trance.
He lets go of your hand, his fingers trailing down to the band at your waist that holds your kimono together. His eyes lock onto yours, silently seeking consent, which only makes your face flush deeper with nerves.
“I need your words before I continue,” he says softly, his fingers brushing against the fabric of the ribbon.
“You can do as you wish,” you whisper breathlessly, swallowing the lump in your throat.
Megumi smiles, keeping his gaze fixed on yours as his arm snakes around your back to untie the bow. The ribbon slides down, hitting the tatami mats with a soft thud. His other hand reaches up to ease the kimono off your shoulders, revealing the lace of your bra and your smooth, supple skin. Between the cool evening air and the intensity of his gaze, you tremble with anticipation.
You can hear Megumi’s breathing grow heavy as his cool fingertips graze your shoulders. The kimono drops to your feet, revealing the red lace lingerie meant only for his eyes. He takes in every curve and contour of your body as if he is admiring a masterpiece.
He curses under his breath, his hand trailing down your arm to the smooth skin of your stomach. “You look beautiful.”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand, stunned by the delicacy with which he treats you and the sincerity of his praise.
As one hand continues to circle the soft pudge of your belly, his other hand catches your wrists, pulling them away from your face and pressing your fingertips against his chest. You feel his heart pounding at an accelerated pace.
“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs. His voice, alluring as he leans in to capture your lips in a deep kiss, his breath tasting of the coffee he finished moments ago.
He lets your hands drop to your side, his grip shifts to your hips, pulling you flush against his body. The kiss intensifies, and you feel his tongue graze your bottom lip, seeking entrance. You give in, opening your mouth slightly at the sensation, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue dancing with yours.
You grip his muscular biceps as he guides you backward. Your heels eventually hit the low bedframe, and Megumi doesn't let up. His kisses trail down the column of your neck, drawing a soft whimper from your throat.
“You taste so good and sound so pretty,” he groans against your collarbone.
“Megumi… should I do something?” you ask unsurely of how to return the worship he is giving you.
He pulls away and begins to strip off his clothes. You quickly turn your head, your cheeks burning hotter with every layer that hits the floor.
“Sit on my face.” He says it so casually, it sounds like a simple greeting.
“W-what? That sounds painful.” you stammer, still keeping your eyes averted from his naked frame. You feel a wave of confusion; your first thought is that he must be some sort of masochist.
“Shit...” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs. “You’re that naive.”
You turn to face him, trying your best to keep your gaze level, but your eyes betray you. You steal a glance downward and let out an involuntary squeal when you see his thick cock, the tip slick with pre. Megumi immediately hooks his index and middle fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. He scans your heated face, admiring your flustered expression.
“Just trust me, alright?” he reassures you.
You nod, searching his eyes for comfort, though the earnestness of his stare only makes you more flustered.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. He lies back on the bed, propping himself up on his elbows against the duvet. “You asked if you should do something.” He gestures toward your red lace panties. “Take those off and straddle me.”
“As you wish.” You slowly slide the thin fabric down and climb over him, hovering over his detailed abs of his stomach. You let out a sharp breath when you feel his cock against your back.
“Haah...” he groans, falling back against the pillows. “Now straddle my face. And don’t hover—I want to feel your weight on me.”
You gulp down your protest and begin to crawl toward his face. Looking down, you see his gaze fixed hungrily on your wet cunt, desperate to finally taste you. Despite his instructions, fear of hurting him makes you hesitate, and you continue to hover just above him.
Sensing your disobedience, Megumi takes matters into his own hands. He grips your thighs firmly and pulls you down onto his lips. You moan at the sudden contact.
“Megumi! I’m hurting you, no?” you cry out, trying to pull away, but his grip is unyielding. You look down at his face, your heart filled with worry that you’re causing him pain.
Megumi looks up at you with hooded, annoyed eyes. His calloused hands slide up to your hips, lifting you just enough so his voice is clear.
“I told you to sit on my face, did I not?” His voice is dark, cloaked in a heavy layer of annoyance and aggression.
“Yes, but—I’m scared of hurting you—ahh!” You squeal as he pulls you back down firmly against his mouth. His tongue immediately begins lapping at your damp slit.
He sucks at your clit while his large hands knead the flesh of your ass, forcing you to grind against his face. A deep, muffled groan vibrates against your skin. The newfound sensation is otherworldly; you can't stop yourself from chasing a peak you never knew existed.
“May I... touch you?” you ask, breathless. Not knowing where to put your hands, you keep them pressed to your own chest.
“Mhm... yeah. You’re getting close,” he moans against you. He pulls you even tighter against his mouth, his tongue darting deeper and faster at your entrance. He can feel the way you are beginning to clench around his tongue.
“Nngh! C-close? Close to what?” you whimper. You reach down, combing his dark hair out of his face before gripping the strands at his scalp.
Megumi scoffs, the vibration sending a jolt through you, and he flicks his tongue expertly over your sensitive clit. You squeal as your body begins to shudder. You scream his name, orgasming all over his face as the waves of heat take over. Your breathing slowly reverts back to a normal pace, you look down and see the mess you’ve made.
“You taste so good, pretty girl.” He licks his lips and kisses the inside of your thighs, his eyes dazed with satisfaction as he looks up at you.
“Oh no! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t know I could do that,” you stammer, frantically looking around the room for a towel or a napkin.
He ignores your panic, lifting you by the hips and settling you onto his lap. You feel the leaky tip of his cock press against you, making you jump.
“Don’t go anywhere. We’re not done,” he says, shifting to sit up.
He lifts you slightly with one hand while the other guides his veiny dick to your, already overstimulated, pussy. He looks up and sees the flush on your face—a look he’s come to recognize in the short time you’ve been together. It’s nervousness. Perhaps you’re afraid of not satisfying him, or perhaps you’re just afraid of the pain. Regardless, he squeezes your hip to draw your attention.
“Hey. I told you we’ll take it slow,” he says, his tone changing back to that soothing, comforting low.
You nod, awaiting for the next newfound sensation.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, something that makes you feel incredibly weak in the knees.
He lifts you a bit higher, aligning you perfectly. Then, he slowly begins to lower you onto him. Your tight walls feel as though they are suffocating him.
“F-fuck... so tight,” he moans. He fights the urge to lose self-control and bury his entire length inside you at once. But as he looks up at your face—brow furrowed and features scrunched—he cannot bring himself to do anything that would frighten his inexperienced wife.
Now having him buried deep inside; you couldn't help but squirm, your body attempting to adjust to the overwhelming girth of his dick that's stretching you out.
Megumi grips your hips with bruising force, keeping you in place to prevent you from grinding against him. He wants nothing more than to lose himself completely and see his cum fill you up.
“Are you ready? Please tell me you’re ready,” he begs, his voice thick with a desperate need to finally move within you.
You hide your burning face in the crook of his neck and thread your fingers through his hair. “Y-yes... I’m ready.”
He wastes no time. He lifts your hips and guides you down onto his shaft, slowly at first, but with a steady, punishing rhythm. Needy, meek whimpers escape you, muffled against his neck. The wet shlick, shlick, shlick of your bodies meeting and your moans in his ear is making his composure fracture.
“You’re taking—shit—taking me so well,” he whines. “Baby, let me go faster.”
“Faster? Mmph! Is this n-not fast enough?” you stutter, your mind spinning as his thick length fills you completely.
“I can be so much faster. It’ll feel good,” he pleads, desperate for the friction.
“O-okay—”
Megumi doesn’t even let you finish. His hips begin bashing into yours relentlessly. His cock pulsates inside you, and the escalated pace makes it impossible for you to think.
“So fucking good for me,” he groans into your ear. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass, causing you to bounce and reflexively clench even tighter around him.
Your eyes roll back as he slides a hand up to your chest, squeezing your plush breast firmly. His words fading out by the staggering sensation and the penetration of his cock deep inside your velvet walls.
You find yourself dazed, a soft trail of drool escaping onto his broad shoulder as the intense stimulation of your pussy reaches a breaking point.
He feels you start to grind on him of your own accord, a clear sign that you are on the brink.
“C’mon, baby... cum for me,” he coos, kissing a trail down your shoulder and neck, occasionally nipping at the sensitive skin. He can feel himself reaching his limit, his balls eager to release his seed. You cling to him, holding him like a lifeline.
You both reach the peak, your orgasm hits like a punch in the gut, and you feel the warmth of him filling you to the brim, mixed cum leaking out as you try to relax your breathing.
“Shh, shh... it’s okay.” he whispers, pulling away from your breast to wrap around your waist. He holds you tightly, keeping you still against him even as his cock continues to throb inside you, still partially hard.
Using the last of your strength, you pull back to look down at him. Megumi bites his bottom lip, stifling a moan as you shift. You are surprised to see he still has so much energy; from the predatory grin on his face, you know he is about to ask for something you aren't sure you can handle.
“You feel too good,” he says. His hand trails down between your bodies, his fingers beginning to circle your clit. “I need to fill you up one more time... just to make sure it takes.”
You hide your face again, overwhelmed and overstimulated, but the way he treats you—the way he praises you for taking him so well—leaves you unable to deify him.
Pairing.ᐟ: Husband!Megumi Fushiguro x Housewife!reader
Synopsis.ᐟ: Megumi returns home from a mission under the influence of aphrodisiac. Overwhelmed by the drug's effects and aware of your desire to have babies, he initiates passionate, unprotected intimacy with the intent of conceiving a child.
Tags.ᐟ: curse au, fluff, cursing, L-bomb, smut with plot, top!megumi, a bit of self doubt megumi, sub!reader, afab!reader, breeding, unprotected sex, aphrodisiac, missionary, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: I was thinking about this on some random day and I had to write it! Honorable tag: alebrasil0101
WCᐟ: 2.5K
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Megumi married you right after high school.
The two of you had been dating since the middle of your first year at Jujutsu High. He had been badly injured and you, working under Ms. Shoko to master your Reverse Cursed Technique, were the only one in the infirmary that day. You were understandably intimidated by the severity of his wounds, but his beautiful green eyes remained calm, as if this were a common occurrence.
“Where’s Ms. Shoko?” he asked, leaning on the doorframe. Blood dripped from his forehead and seeped through his gym attire.
You quickly ran to his side and offered a hand, which he took weakly as you guided him toward the medical bed. As you set up your tools, you mentally rehearsed Shoko’s procedures, panicking at the thought of messing up your very first patient.
“Hey,” his voice cut through your trance.
“Y-yes?” you replied softly, trying to steady your breathing. You looked more rattled than he did.
“Take your time. It’s obvious that you’re nervous, and I would rather not walk out of here looking worse than I did coming in.”
You smiled, finding comfort in the fact that he could joke while bleeding out.
“You’re right.” Your hands stopped shaking as you focused on your technique.
He laid back languidly, trying to find a comfortable position on the cold sheets. You hovered your hand over the zipper of his jacket.
“May I…” you trailed off, unsure of what to call him.
“Fushiguro.”
“Oh! May I, Fushiguro?”
He nodded, allowing you to unzip the jacket so you could finish the healing process. The procedure went perfectly. While your technique did most of the heavy lifting, you were able to talk to him and properly introduce yourself.
After that day, he realized he had found someone who didn't buzz in his ear like his classmates or leave him smelling of cigarettes after a patch-up. Megumi grew to love your opinions and the way your voice alone made him feel safe and warm.
It was winter, and most of the students had plans for the upcoming break.
You stayed in your dorm to study ways to activate your cursed technique faster for emergencies. Just as you were getting comfortable in bed, you received a text from Megumi.
(Fushiguro): What are you doing?
(You): Reading. Need something?
(Fushiguro): Hmm. No, I don’t need anything. I only asked because everyone else is going to watch a movie, and I was only going to go if you went.
(You): Well, I mean, you can come over and hang out with me.
(Fushiguro): Sounds perfect.
From that day forward, you and Megumi spent your time together, sometimes in silence and sometimes in quiet conversation about school. Eventually, those moments turned into hangouts outside of the dorms, until he finally asked you if he could be your boyfriend.
The relationship remained private until the night of your high school graduation, when he led you out onto a moonlit beach. His hand gripped yours firmly as he guided you toward a secluded spot.
“Megumi! Where are we—” Your words were cut short when he pressed his lips to your knuckles, his fingers still intertwined with yours. He looked down at you, simply taking you in. No words were spoken; there was only the sound of soft breathing and the distant rush of waves.
“I love you,” he spoke, his voice softer than you had ever heard it.
“Aww, I love you too.”
He let go of your hand and dropped to one knee. You stepped back, covering your mouth in shock.
“I-i’ve never done this before, but…” He looked away, his face flushing and his ears turning a deep red. “I want to spend the rest of my life with the person I truly love.”
“Megumi…” You were lost for words.
He turned back to you, his expression full of determination. “Shit… don’t look at me like that,” he muttered, pulling a small box from his pocket.
“Sorry, sorry,” you whispered, fidgeting with your fingers.
He cleared his throat and opened the box, revealing a stunning ring that caught the moonlight. “Will you marry me?”
You dropped to the sand and threw your arms around his neck. “Yes! A billion times, yes!” you squealed.
Suddenly, your classmates rushed out to congratulate you both. The wedding that followed was breathtaking; there wasn't a dry eye in the crowd. But the guests were the last thing on your mind. All you could see was Megumi standing at the end of the aisle. He had always been stoic, but the moment he saw you, his face broke into the widest smile you had ever seen. You wished that moment would never end.
The honeymoon phase never truly faded, even after six years of marriage. He wasn’t always home because of his missions, but whenever he returned, he was deeply affectionate. It didn’t always require a grand date or expensive gifts; his presence alone was always enough for you.
Like today, he has the day off and is able to spend it with you—his lovely wife.
He lies in bed reading a book about animals, a subject that has fascinated him ever since he faced an animal-based curse. You cuddle up to his bare chest, his arm wrapped around your waist over your nightgown. You have your phone in hand, scrolling through social media.
“Aww, look how cute he is,” you say, pointing at the screen so Megumi can see.
The video shows a baby crawling toward the camera while a woman’s voice coos behind the lens, encouraging him to dance. The baby obliges, squatting up and down in that signature toddler rhythm.
“Mhm. Are you trying to tell me something?” he asks, patting gently on your hip, picking up on the fact that you’ve shown him a baby video every ten minutes.
“What? N-no!” You giggle, trying to brush off the comment.
He hums, taking a mental note of your blatant baby fever. He keeps it to himself, waiting until you feel comfortable enough to bring it up seriously.
“You would be a great mother,” he says softly. He places a bookmark in his book and sets it on the nightstand, giving you his full attention as he pulls you tighter into his embrace.
“Aw, really?” you ask bashfully.
“Yeah.” He kisses your cheek, then trails his lips to yours. “You’re sweet, loving, and thoughtful. Your soft features will look beautiful on our child,” he says, pulling away slightly between each affirmation.
“Gosh, don’t forget about your striking features, too,” you say, setting your phone down on the bed to cup his cheek.
The moment is interrupted by an aggressive buzz—the specific vibration that means a Special Grade curse needs to be exorcised.
“Of course,” he sighs. He gets out of bed, his scarred, toned back on display as he grabs his phone from the charger. You crawl to the edge of the bed and kneel there, watching him head into your shared closet to change.
“Sweetie, honey... I thought you said they wouldn't need to call you today.”
“Must be a tough bastard,” he grumbles, clearly annoyed that his time with you is over.
“Just stay safe,” you say with a smile.
“And if I don't,” he says, fixing his jacket and walking over to kiss your forehead, “you'll be here to patch me up?”
“Yes. Of course, like always,” you stand up to straighten his collar.
He smiles before slipping into his shadows—his fastest way to travel. You take this opportunity to get everything ready for his return.
Hours pass. You have everything ready for when he comes home: prepped Oyakodon—his favorite—scents waiting by the tub, pajamas laid out on the dresser, and the coffee table draped in various ointments and medicines in case he is too weak to reach the bedroom.
The wait is starting to get to you. You haven't heard from him since he left at noon, and it is now eleven at night. You pace around the kitchen, hoping to calm your racing nerves. This is a normal occurrence, but that doesn't mean you are accustomed to it. You love that he protects the world from curses, but sometimes the worry is overwhelming.
As you finish your umpteenth lap around the house, he emerges from the shadows near the door.
“Megumi! Oh, I’m so glad you’re—”
“F-fuck…” he groans before falling to his knees.
You quickly grab bandages from the coffee table and rush to him to check for wounds. To the naked eye, there are no injuries. In fact, he looks as clean as when he left, which would be a relief if his face wasn't flushed deep red and he wasn't shuddering as if he were freezing.
“I-I…” he stammers.
“Take it slow, baby.” You drop the wraps and cup his cheeks, trying to steady his heavy breathing and pounding heart.
“I need you.” He finally makes eye contact, but his pupils are dilated, filled with an intense hunger.
“Me? What do you need—Megumi!” You squeal as he hoists you up like a sack of potatoes and carries you toward the bedroom.
He drops you onto the bed and quickly climbs over you, kissing you deeply and leaving you no room to process anything but the sensation. You don't just feel love; you feel a palpable wave of lust. You can practically taste the aphrodisiac on his tongue.
You push against his broad shoulders, breaking the kiss. He doesn't stop his advances, however; he trails kisses down your jawline and reaches under your nightgown, his hand finding your smooth skin.
“Mmph! Baby, wait… you’re under a drug,” you protest, trying to snap him out of the haze, but it does nothing. The effects must have only recently taken hold.
“Mhm… P-please help me,” he whines, a sound so uncharacteristic it catches you off guard. “I need to feel you around me.”
Sex with Megumi is usually slow and passionate. He is typically very vanilla, and you enjoy every moment of it, but the way he looks at you behind his long, dark eyelashes tells you this won't be a normal session.
You have never seen him act so haphazardly. He stands up, striping off his clothes, tossing them onto the floor until he is left only in his black boxers. His print is distinctive, prominent against the fabric. As you reach toward the nightstand drawer, he suddenly yanks your ankles, pulling you down to the edge of the bed.
“We won’t need a condom tonight,” he states. His voice is deep and husky, sending a wave of nerves through you.
“H-huh?”
He kneels on the floor, pulling your thighs around his head until all you can see is his unruly, black hair.
“I said,” he murmurs, kissing your inner thigh, “we won’t need one tonight.”
“Are you sure? The drug will wear off with intercourse. It doesn’t need to be unprotect—aahh!” You moan as you feel his teeth graze your inner thigh.
“Don’t you want that?” His voice has never sounded so raw. He never speaks to you like this, and you can't lie—it’s incredibly arousing.
“Megumi, you’re not in your right mind,” you say, combing his hair back so he is forced to look at you.
“I know what you want. You’ve been practically begging for it,” he says, making you gasp.
“Megumi, honey... are you sure?” You search his eyes for any sign of hesitation, but all you find is burning lust.
“Even if this damn drug wasn’t in my system, I know you’ve dreamt of having a baby.” He pushes your damp panties aside to press a soft kiss against you. “I’m willing to make that happen right now.”
You nod sheepishly as he stands up, releasing himself from the restraint of his boxers. The sight of him never fails to make you admire him—thick, heavy, and already leaking with precum. For the first time, you’ll be feeling the real thing without the usual rubbery barrier.
“Take off your clothes before I tear them off,” he commands. You shudder, but you reluctantly do as you're told, pulling off your nightgown and tossing it onto the pile of his discarded clothes. His aggression makes your pussy throb with need, and as you sit up to slide off your panties, the dampness at the center is unmistakable.
You must be taking too long for his liking, because as you slide your underwear down he finishes the job himself.
He climbs back on top of you, hiking one of your legs up. He slaps the tip of his cock against your entrance, the wet pap pap pap sound filling the quiet room.
“You're going to take me so well, baby.” he growls. He lines himself up and pushes into your yielding cunt. You can already feel his slickness, which draws a lewd moan from your throat.
Without warning, he drives deep in you. His hips press firmly against yours, his eyes locking onto the slight, soft bulge of your lower belly with every thrust.
“Shitttt, you’re so warm and tight. Why haven't we done this before?” he groans into your ear, his hands moving to possessively grip the flesh of your chest. You can’t find the words to answer; you're too dazed by the pleasure washing over you with every heavy press. The raw words he whispers and the moist squelching sounds of his movements only make the intensity skyrocket. When you don't respond, he pulls nearly all the way out before slamming back in, making you cry out.
“Ahhh—Megumi!” you gasp, gripping his strong back. The cool metal of your wedding ring presses into his skin, making him grunt.
His thrusts grow quicker and more frantic. With how much moisture pools beneath you, it’s a wonder that he's still so hard inside of your clenching, sensitive walls.
“I’m close—fuck—gonna fill you up,” he says, crashing his lips against yours. Your mouth falls open, allowing him to deepen the kiss and taste you fully. He pulls away just enough to murmur, “Make sure it takes.”
He circles your clit with his thumb, causing you to squeal and clench impossibly tighter around him. His tip presses against your cervix, and the bed frame thumps rhythmically against the wall—definitely alerting the neighbors, if your moans hadn’t already.
“T-tightening so much around me.” he moans, his thumb moving faster. “Cum for me baby.”
You don’t hesitate. Your orgasm hits, and your nails scratch against his back for support as he continues to drive into you. He doesn't stop; your body spasms around him, which only makes him pump all his seed in your womb faster.
“Megumi!” you whimper. Your hands fall to the sheets, too weak to hold him as you squeeze your eyes shut.
Slowly, as you come down from your high, his pace shifts, reverting to his usual, steady rhythm.
“Honey?” you whisper, fluttering your eyes open to find him looking down at you.
“Will I... will I be a good father?” He stops moving, letting himself rest inside you.
You can tell the aphrodisiac has worn off, but it has been replaced by something you hate to see on your husband’s face: fear.
“Megumi, sweetheart,” you coo, raising a hand to the back of his head and pulling him down to the crook of your neck. You stroke his hair soothingly. “You will be a wonderful dad.”
He kisses your shoulder, letting your leg fall limp against the mattress as wraps his arms around your waist.
“As long as I have you by my side, right?” he whispers, a soft, genuine smile forming on his lips.
Author's Note.ᐟ: This type of scenario has been on my mind for a hot minute.
WCᐟ: 2.4K
⤷ Megumi is a Good Kitty.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part one!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Megumi had always been reserved, but this went beyond his usual stoicism.
While he continued his routine of preparing meals and maintaining the household, a subtle shift had taken over your precious catboy.
For someone so meticulously calculated, his slip-ups were glaring. Pieces of your clothing—specifically your panties—had begun vanishing from your drawers. The apartment, usually pristine, felt neglected, falling just short of his typical standards. Most telling was his behavior at night; he started sleeping on the couch in his cat form, a habit he only ever reverted to when he was ill.
Seeking clarity, you talked to your coworkers who also lived with hybrids. Their suggestions ranged from seasonal moodiness to physical illness, but one possibility took root in your mind: Megumi was in heat.
The thought was bittersweet. Despite your long relationship, Megumi struggled to vocalize his needs, but the idea that he felt the need to hide this from you was painful. He had mentioned in the past that standard or oral sex usually sufficed, but his erratic behavior and the uncharacteristically sloppy meals he’d been packing for you suggested something much more intense this time.
You decided to confront the issue over dinner.
“Honey? Baby, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself lately.”
The reaction was immediate. His leg began thumping against the cold hardwood floor, and his cat ears twitched in agitation. He cleared his throat—a sign he was searching for a cover story.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his gaze fixed on his half-eaten plate. “Just tired.”
It was a blatant lie. After months together, you knew his patterns better than anyone, and it hurt that he wouldn't trust you when he was clearly struggling.
The following day at work, you stared down at the pathetic excuse for a lunch he’d prepared, unable to focus. Your mind kept wandering back to him—your poor kitty, trapped in a desperate, lonely heat. During your break, you take matters into your own hands.
A quick search for "intense heat relief for male cat hybrids" brought up a consistent first result: penetration. You double-checked your search terms to ensure you hadn't looked up female-specific biology, but the results were clear.
While you weren’t sure if Megumi would be open to it, the mental image of him—begging for your strapped dildo, looking up at you with those striking green eyes—sent a surge of wetness in your underwear. You left work early and headed to a sex shop in the mall. Out of care for his comfort, you picked up a high-quality lubricant and a girthy, seven-inch strap-on, determined to show him exactly how good he made you feel whenever the roles were reversed.
While driving, you text him that you’re heading home early, giving him a heads-up to start a bath or dinner. You’re still stinging from how blatantly he lied to your face about whatever is eating at him, but that doesn't stop your instinct to care for him—an instinct honed over the months you've spent together.
You unlock the front door and are greeted by a heavy, stifling silence. As you shed your shoes and coat, the quiet is broken by the sound of shuffling and low, guttural groans echoing from the bedroom.
You ease the bedroom door open. Megumi is naked on your shared bed, completely lost in himself. He’s propped against the headboard, his head thrown back as he inhales deeply into a pair of your used, blue panties. Your eyes trail down his glistening, toned physique to where he is rhythmically stroking his slick cock.
The wet, schlick sounds and the way he gasps your name must have drowned out the buzz of your messages. You lean against the doorframe, watching in silence, admiring how utterly needy he has become.
“F-fuck… ‘finna cum,” he whimpers. His ears twitch violently as he stuffs the lace of your panties into his mouth to stifle a cry.
“I don’t want you to,” you say, your voice cutting through the haze.
His movements stop abruptly with a feeble whine. His head snaps toward you, eyes blown wide and pupils dilated. As he pulls the fabric from his mouth, you can’t tell if he’s more shocked by being caught or by your command to stop. He fumbles for his phone on the nightstand, finally seeing the unread notifications.
“I-i’m sorry. I didn’t see these,” he stammers, the words catching in his throat. He’s even more flushed now, his skin a deep pink as he scrambles to sit up.
You raise a hand to still him. He complies instantly, frozen by your gaze. Walking closer to his sweat-sheened body, you set the black shopping bag on the nightstand and crawl onto the mattress, kneeling beside him.
“Megumi… why didn't you tell me you were in heat?” you ask softly. You try to de-escalate his skyrocketing heart rate, though it isn't working—he’s looking at you like a starving man staring at a feast.
“I’m not… I-I’m fine—”
You reach out and flick the hot pink tip of his cock making him gasp and arch his back.
“Stop being stubborn and tell me the truth,” you command, pinning him with the same professional sternness you use at work. You leave him no room to retreat into another lie.
“Y-yes… I’m in heat. But this one is different,” he says, sitting up straighter and locking eyes with you. “Sex usually helps, but this… it’s stronger. I didn’t want to bother you. You already do so much…” his rambles make you tense with annoyance. “Megumi… you have to be the most selfless, sweetest, and most incredibly stupid catboy to ever live,” you sigh, softening. “You can come to me whenever you need help. I want you to, because I love you.”
“I love you too. I just… I don’t know what to do,” he admits, his voice breaking into a needy whine. “Please.” He catches your hand, pressing desperate kisses to your knuckles. “I need your help.”
“There’s my good boy. But my good boy has been holding back information for weeks.” you say, standing up. You reach for the black bag and begin to reveal its contents.
Megumi’s eyes widen, and he instinctively scoots back toward the headboard as you pull the strap-on from the packaging.
“What the fuck?” he blurs out, shock written across his face. “Why do you—when did you even get that?”
“I did some research on intense heats, and it said penetration helps,” you explain calmly. You toss the toy onto the mattress and begin shedding your work clothes until you’re down to your lace bra and underwear.
He pokes at the silicone hesitantly before looking back up at you, terrified. “Are you serious? You couldn't have picked a smaller one?”
“Dead serious. You’re finally going to feel what I feel,” you smirk. You watch his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard, his embarrassment warring with his arousal.
“Y-yes, but… really?” he asks again, watching with wide eyes as you clip the harness over your hips and adjust the fit.
“I bought lube, too!” you add with a playful, excited lilt. He looks almost faint, biting his bottom lip to the point it'll draw blood from his sharp teeth.
“There has to be another way, bab—”
You cut him off, crashing your lips against his in a bruising, passionate kiss. His eyes fly open in surprise before fluttering shut as his neediness takes over. You gasp, and he seizes the opening, his tongue sliding into your mouth with an aggressive, desperate hunger.
You pull away abruptly, leaving him with a pathetic, unfinished whimper.
“You call me 'mommy' from now on, alright?” you command, your voice dropping into a low, dominant tone.
“Yes, mommy,” he nods. Tears prick at his emerald eyes as he looks up at you, trembling in his kneeling position on the bed.
“Good boy. Now, face down in the pillows and ass up,” you demand. Megumi gulps, swallowing his nervousness as he obeys, shifting into the position you’ve commanded.
Your voice has always sounded heavenly to him, but this newfound edge of authority sends a surge of arousal through him. You can tell by his tail, which is swaying with much more frantic eagerness than before.
“Now, if it’s too much, baby, you say ‘red,’ okay?” You reassure him in your natural, soft tone. He visibly relaxes at the mention of your safe word, the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
“O-okay,” he murmurs, burying his face deeper into the pillows to hide his mounting embarrassment.
You smile, brushing his dark hair away from his forehead to press a tender kiss to his cheek before reaching for the lube.
“Go slow… p-please, mommy.” he whimpers, his voice muffled by the bedding.
“Mhm,” you hum, admiring the view. He’s arched like a true cat, his tail and his cock both standing up proud and expectant.
You move to the foot of the bed, aligning yourself with his trembling frame. As you pour the lubricant into your palm, you can’t resist teasing him. You let a stream of the cold liquid hit his back and drip between his cheeks. He shivers violently at the contact.
“Fuck… it’s cold,” he whines.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. I have to get you ready. You’re a virgin to this, after all,” you coo playfully, setting the bottle aside.
You tease him, rubbing the silicone tip up and down against his entrance. He shoves his face so hard into the pillow that his next protest is entirely unintelligible.
“Mmpfh!” he moans, helplessly.
The sound makes you giggle. He’s always been vocal, but he’s never been quite this submissive. “I haven’t even put it in yet, Megumi.” You snake a hand beneath him, wrapping your fingers around his cock and stroking him with agonizing slowness.
“Shitshitshit… mommy, please!” he groans. Precum already coats your palm as his tail curls and snaps enthusiastically in the air.
“You beg so sweetly for me, honey,” you soothe. You slowly begin to guide the tip inside, prompting a sharp gasp and a desperate squirm.
You keep up the slow rhythm of your hand on his dick while gripping his firm hip to hold him in place.
“Baby… you have to stay still f’me.” you say, biting back a moan of your own. Seeing your usually stoic catboy dominated like this is almost too much.
“Nghhh! It feels… weird,” he cries out. The pillow beneath him is becoming damp with a mix of drool and tears from the sheer overstimulation.
“It’ll feel good soon,” you promise, pushing a fraction deeper into him. “Just try to relax for me, pretty boy.”
The room fills with the sound of your reassurances, his strained moans, and the squelching sounds of your bodies meeting. Your pace is slow—excruciatingly so—until Megumi begins to thrust back against you, his tail lashing as he desperately rubs the tip of his leaking cock.
“Oh? Are you feeling needy for more, sweetie?” you whisper seductively, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the length of his spine.
“Yes… please, please, please…” he rasps, his words devolving into a jumbled mess as his hand moves faster. “Please, make me cum.”
He sounds so breathtakingly desperate that you need to see his face. You pull out of him abruptly and let go of his cock.
He lets out a broken groan at the loss of pleasure, twisting his head over his shoulder to look at you with a wide-eyed stare.
“W-why did you stop, mom—”
“On your back. Hold your legs open for me,” you demand, your voice returning to that stern, commanding edge.
He complies instantly, rolling over and hooking his arms under his knees to pull them to his chest. His face is a dark, flushed red, stained with tears and drool, his black hair clinging to his damp forehead and cheeks.
You trail an index finger down his chest, stopping just above his twitching, overstimulated cock.
“You look so pretty like this,” you smile, genuinely admiring how completely undone he is.
“Don’t stare,” he mutters, turning his head away in a futile attempt to regain a shred of his usual stoic dignity.
“Sounds like you don't want Mommy's cock after all, hm?” you tease.
“Mommy, I-I’m sorry, please,” he gulps, his eyes snapping back to yours. “I-I’ll be good. Please, I need it.”
You can't possibly leave him like this when he asks so nicely. Moving with purpose, you drive the full length of the strap-on into him in one deep, deliberate thrust.
“Fuck! Shitshit!” he cries out, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip to try and catch his moans.
You use one hand to stroke his cock while the other finds the base of his tail, stimulating both simultaneously. He whimpers loudly, his entire body arching off the mattress.
“You like how Mommy fucks you deep? Taking care of her good boy?” you ask. He can’t even form words anymore; he just nods frantically, his eyes rolling back in his head.
You use both hands to pump his thick cock now, matching the speed of your deep, punishing thrusts.
“M-mommy… gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna… fuck!” he screams, his spine snapping taut.
His orgasm hits with an intensity that is purely feline. You know hybrids have a higher volume than humans, but Megumi’s release is staggering—a continuous flow of his cream as if he’s been storing every drop of this heat for weeks. His seed coats his stomach and his shaking hands, splashing up until it even reaches the silicone dick buried inside him.
“How are you feeling, baby? Any better?” You begin to pull out of him slowly, reaching for the towels on the nightstand, but he uses every ounce of his remaining strength to catch your wrist. His legs fall limp against the mattress, trembling and heavy.
“L-let me clean you up,” he murmurs. He pulls you back toward the edge of the bed, waiting a minute before he weakly gets up on his knees. At eye level with the strap, he begins to devotedly lick his own seed off the silicone cock.
“Thank—”
slurp
“—you—”
slurp
“—for helping me,” he gasps between sucking and gagging as he swallows, eyes watering slightly before he finally pulls away.
You comb his hair back from his face with your nails, the sensation making his ears twitch as he looks up at you with dazed, emerald eyes.
“You’re going to ask for help next time, right?” you ask, your voice firm but full of love.
“I… I will,” he whispers, leaning into your touch as his heat finally vanishes.
ᯓ𑣲 hellooo, my name is nari or eve whatever suits your fancy! this is my first + only blog account, but i’ve been dying to write fics + publish them on tumblr.
my fics are probably going to be with megumi but i'll be writing about other characters from like mha, delicious in dungeon, chainsaw man, etc.
i have friends proofreading my fics for any grammar errors + the right tags!
B l o g R u l e s.ᐟ
ᯓ𑣲 this is a nsfw/sfw blog + all the characters in my fics are aged up! also note that im learning as i write!
all of my works are for fem!readers!
weird + negative behavior in my comments/inbox are very unwelcomed! i am a person + i would like to be treated as one.
A s k s /R e q u e s t s R u l e s.ᐟ
ᯓ𑣲 message me anytime, my inbox is always open for new moots! just please be aware + mindful on what you say.
i won't be doing request at this time because i already have so many ideas + i would like to publish them before people give me ideas.
i will NOT write:
ʚɞ incest (siblings, step siblings)
ʚɞ rape/cnc
ʚɞ overly freaky kinks (pissplay, ageplay, raceplay, etc.)
N o t e s.ᐟ
ᯓ𑣲 i don't write all the time + my friends need some time to review my works so uploads will take some time!
Pairing.ᐟ: Catboy!Megumi Fushiguro x Worker!reader
Encapsulation.ᐟ: After suspecting Megumi has a praise kink, his true nature starts to show when he gives you a massage.
Tags.ᐟ: non curse au, beastmen au, smut with minimal plot, cursing, kissing, praise kink, mommy kink, sub!megumi, whiny!megumi, tease!reader, afab!reader, cunnilingus, slight handjob, cum eating, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: So many people have made him a catboy I HAD to jump on this.
WCᐟ: 1.9k
⤷ Megumi hides his heat from you.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part two!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Your office job has been taking a heavy toll on your mental and physical state, but walking through your apartment door always brings the same comfort. Megumi, your catboy boyfriend, is in the kitchen, cooking dinner, shirtless with his grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, showing the waistband of his boxers.
Just a few months ago, you found him near your workplace, curled up in a small box like a loaf of bread, with a piece of fish in his mouth. You took him in out of the kindness of your heart—though, in reality, you simply couldn't resist him. With his dark, fluffy fur, a long, expressive tail, and the prettiest green eyes you’d ever seen, he was the cutest kitty you’d ever laid eyes on.
You certainly hadn't expected to wake up the next morning to find him in human form, holding you tightly as if afraid you might leave his embrace. Since that day, he has made it his personal mission to take care of you the moment you get home.
You slip off your shoes and cross the room, resting your forehead against the strong muscles of his back. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you lean into his warmth, feeling his cat ears twitch.
“Megumiii…” you draw out the vowels in his name. “Have I told you how much I appreciate you?”
You love praising him; he always reacts so sweetly to your affection.
“Y-yes… multiple times,” he says meekly, his tail stiffening against your stomach.
You giggle, watching his tail betray his flustered reaction.
“What’s wrong, pretty boy? Your tail is stiff,” you tease, poking it gently and making him hiss.
“Shut up, I’m fine,” he grumbles. There’s no real bite to his voice—it's just a shy attempt to hide how much he likes it.
“Mhm,” you hum as the fatigue finally catches up to you.
Megumi senses your exhaustion immediately. He turns around to face you in the soft loop of your arms. You look up at him, offering a tired smile.
“You don’t have to force a smile. I know you’re exhausted,” he says softly. Cupping your face in his hand, he rubs his thumb gently against your cheek. “The food will be ready by the time you finish your shower.”
You turn your head and kiss his palm. “You’re so precious, Gumi.”
A deep, rosy blush spreads across his cheeks. Gosh, he’s so cute.
After finishing your shower and night beauty routine, you walk toward the small dining table wearing nothing but an oversized shirt and panties.
Megumi pulls out your chair, gently pushing it in to make sure you are comfortable. The food on your plate is already cut, saving you the tedious task after a long day. He is always this sweet—how could you resist teasing him?
“Such a good boy for me,” you murmur, taking the first bite as he settles into the seat across from you.
His cat ears perk up, and his tail thumps against the leg of the table.
“J-just tell me about your day,” he begs, trying to distract his mind from the way your honeyed words are making him throb in his boxers.
You let out a soft giggle. “Well, handsome, let me tell you…”
He could have came right then and there from that simple compliment. He hated how you always knew exactly what to say to make him feel special. Words had never affected him this way before, but it was impossible to ignore when he knew you meant every syllable and had shown him time and time again just how much you adored him.
“Will you be able to do that for me?” you ask, drawing him out of his trance.
“Hm?” he hums, blinking as he asks you to repeat yourself.
“Megumi, baby, I asked if you could give me a massage,” you say, standing up with your plate to rinse it in the sink. “Your hands feel so good on me.”
He almost chokes on his food at the bold comment. Knowing you, it was meant to get a reaction—and it works perfectly. Before you can finish at the sink, he is behind you, placing his own plate down, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, and burying his face in the crook of your neck with a soft purr.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tease, feeling the tip of his tail wrap around your bare leg, making you giggle.
As you reach down to take his hand and lead him to the bedroom, you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, gripping tightly.
You release his hand to flop onto the bed, lying on your stomach. You shift slightly, the oversized shirt riding up to reveal your smooth, lower back and the cute blue cotton underwear with pink bows on the waistband—his favorite pair.
He lets out a quiet groan as his sweatpants grow uncomfortably tight. You always look so beautiful without even trying, but this angle of you makes it impossible to keep his desires in check.
“I already left the oil on the nightstand, so you can start whenever,” you say, resting your chin on your hands.
“Mhm,” he replies, reaching for the baby oil. His hands tremble with excitement as he prepares to touch your skin.
He straddles your thighs, hovering just behind you. He pours the cool oil into his palms and applies it to your exposed lower back and shoulders. The sudden chill makes you involuntarily moan.
“Ah… it's so cold,” you whimper softly, squirming just enough that your plump half bumps against his crotch.
“Fuck… stop moving,” he growls, gripping your hips to hold you still.
You bury your face in the pillow, a small smile playing on your lips, and let him work his magic.
The massage is fantastic. His hands are pleasantly rough, and he applies firm pressure to all the right spots. You aren’t even fully aware that your soft moans and words of praise are making his cock ache against his sweatpants.
“Megumi… nghh… just like that,” you moan, arching your back.
Something inside him snaps, the realization dawning that you are doing this on purpose. You are teasing him, shifting your squeezable ass against his straining cock.
His hands slide down your sides as he leans forward to press a kiss right above the band of your underwear.“Ah! Please keep going.”
He can practically feel his precum soaking through his sweats.
In one swift, deliberate motion, he turns you onto your back.
You were so focused on the sensations of his touch that when you look up, you are met with your boyfriend’s flushed, handsome face, his heavy breaths, and his pent-up frustration.
“Oh my… what's wrong?”
“Shut up,” he growls.
Your eyes widen at his harsh tone. You are about to ask again when he slides his hands under your thighs, lifting your calves and resting them over his broad shoulders.
“Why do you have to be so sweet with your words and noises… fuck,” he groans. He pulls your thighs closer to his chest, bringing the wet spot of your panties to his face and inhaling, making you squeal.
“Baby…” you whine, running your fingers over his calloused hands. “Are you upset?”
There you go again, calling him such sweet things, fretting over him like a worried mother.
His tail sways back and forth with thrill. He looks down at you, seeking silent permission. At your nod, he presses a warm, feline kiss over your covered folds.
“T-that feels so good, sweetie,” you sigh absentmindedly, looking up through your long, pretty lashes.
He lets out a soft, pitiful whimper against the fabric. You notice his fluffy cat ears shivering right near your inner thighs, and the rigid length of his cock brushing against your hip.
“Aww, is my good boy needy for me?” you joke.
That pushes him right over the edge. He slides your underwear to the side, pressing his hot tongue between your sweet slit. “Megumiii…” you cry, your hips rising slightly. “Keep going… you’re doing so good for me.”
He sucks hard against your clit, lapping up your slick cunt with an eager, immense speed.
The rhythm of your breathing, the sound of his name on your lips, and the intense angle all drive him to work faster. His index and middle fingers are working wonders deep inside your pussy, while his lips tease your clit with a heat that makes your eyes roll back. His tight grip on your thigh, combined with the low vibration of his moans, pushes you straight over the edge into a powerful orgasm.
“B-baby… you look so undone, and I haven't even touched you.” you giggle, catching your breath.
He pulls away, your juices glistening on his lips. His breathing is heavy, his pupils blown wide as he stares down at you like a cat staring at a mouse.
“Wanna…” he swallows hard, his gaze searching yours. “Make you feel good, please.”
He seems almost overwhelmed by the heat, his hips thrusting restlessly against the air. You can't bear to leave your beautiful baby in such a desperate state.
“Pretty boy…” you pat the mattress beside you. “Sit.”
He complies instantly, lowering your legs before climbing up to lean against the headboard with a deep, tense breath.
“Good boy,” you coo, sitting up to press a soft kiss to his flushed cheek. “Where does it hurt?”
“Mmph…” he glances down at your face. “M-my cock…”
“Mhm…” you hook a finger under the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers, pulling them both off simultaneously.
His thick, veiny cock bursts free, throbbing for your touch.
“Haah… m-mommy, please,” he whimpers.
“Mommy?” you smirk at him, finding his uncharacteristic desperation incredibly hot.
He nods frantically, completely undone. “Please… help me, mommy.”
“How can I help, baby?” you ask, gently stroking the soft hair just behind his fluffy cat ears.
“Keep kissing me, please… n-nothing more.”
You waste no time capturing his lips, still tasting your own savory release lingering on his mouth as his calloused fingers grip your hips. You trail your lips down to his neck and chest, as he pushes your hair behind your ear. He cries out, a sharp gasp escaping him as you run your tongue over his nipple.
“Your moans are so cute, sweetheart.” you bat your eyelashes at him.
“Shit… yesyes please keep going,” he whines, his pulsating dick shuddering at the dual sensation of your kisses and your praise.
You look down, noticing how his precum continues to leak from his pink, mushroom tip. His breathing is ragged and sporadic as he watches you looking at his pathetic, aching cock.
“D-don’t touch it… I’ll cum,” he says, his voice husky but weak as he uses his index finger under your chin to guide your eyes back to his flushed face.
But you’ve never seen anyone reach their climax from a simple touch alone, so you blatantly ignore his warning and stroke him just once.
“Fuckkk…” he whimpers, his head falling back against the headboard. His whole body shudders as he pulls his hand away from your face, running a hand through his hair.
You watch his face contort into tears and drool before your gaze drops back down to your hand that's wrapped around him.
He cums… a lot. The thick seed gushes over your palm and fingers in an overwhelming rush.
“Woah…” your eyes widen as even more of his cream spills onto you and him.
“M’sorry…” he mutters, peeking at you from between the fingers covering his flushed, embarrassed face.
“Don’t apologize, cutie,” you whisper. You pull your hand away and slowly, seductively lick his heat off your fingers.
The sight of you enjoying the moment in such a sensual way is enough to make him cum all over again.
Pairing.ᐟ: Farmhand!Megumi Fushiguro x Cowhybrid!reader
Synopsis.ᐟ: For half-cow beastman, your milk production is a private, flustered secret triggered only by your deepest fantasies. When your adoptive father unknowingly sells you and your childhood friend, Yuji, to a wealthy new owner, you find yourself under the watchful eye of Megumi Fushiguro, a farmhand. As the heat of the summer rises, so does your production, leading to a clumsy, inevitable discovery for Megumi’s eyes. As he uncovers the secret behind the farm’s most delicious produce, he decides to take a "hands-on" approach to management.
Tags.ᐟ: non curse au, beastmen au, smut with plot, cursing, strangers to lovers, mutual yearning, light exhibitionism, whiny!megumi, sub!megumi, top!reader, curvy!reader, afab!reader, virgin!reader, naive!reader, teasing, praise/degradation play, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names, creampie, nipple stim, lots of masturbation (f!rec), a bunch of lactation from reader, overstim, multiple orgasms, riding, messy sex, unprotected sex, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: Megumi working on a farm and taking care of you is like chef's kiss.
WCᐟ: 5.4K
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Beastmen were never treated as humans or animals. To the world, you were simply anomalies.
You learned this truth early, feeling the sting of being shunned by the people who were supposed to love you. The only person you ever trusted was Yuji. He was a beastman too—half-human and half-bull—and he carried the same scars of rejection. In the shared wreckage of your childhoods, Yuji made a vow to stay with you as long as you stayed with him. You swore it back with every ounce of your child-self, a desperate pact against a world that didn’t want you.
But the city was a predator, and eventually, the struggle to survive took its toll. The streets were never kind, and the constant fear of being hurt finally drove the two of you toward the countryside.
Neither of you knew anything about the wild. You remember the grit of dirt getting stuck in your worn-out shoes and the hot sun beaming against your forehead. Walking in that relentless heat was too much for your weak legs; after what felt like hours of stumbling, a quiet barn appeared in the distance.
You were on the verge of fainting when Yuji caught you. He lifted you into his arms and laid you gently in a small pile of hay. You tried to pull him down so he could rest, but he insisted on staying awake to watch over you. He promised himself he’d only close his eyes for a few minutes, but between the heat of the walk and the restless nights spent guarding you, he was out cold before he could protest.
When you woke, you weren't in the haystack. You were lying in a comfortable, soft bed inside the farmhouse. You didn't want to move; the warm, peaceful weight of Yuji sleeping beside you made you feel truly content. Then, an older man appeared in the doorway, and your eyes snapped open.
“It’s going to be okay.” The man holding two cups of hot chocolate, his smile gentle and sweet. “I’ll take care of you and your friend.”
He kept his word. He took you and Yuji in when you were only twelve. Over the years, Yuji became the strength of the farm, his work ethic unmatched as he hauled crops and hay for the horses. You weren't as physically strong, but you cared for the farm in your own way. You became a skilled chef through trial and error, and you found a calling in comforting the animals. Being half-cow allowed you to communicate with them, soothing them through difficult births or rough moods.
And then, there was the milk.
It started when you were sixteen, triggered by the arrival of a man who visited the farm. He was kind in a way that made your heart stutter. He would pet the sensitive skin just behind your cow ears when you brought him cattle, speaking soothing words to you while you tended to his horse. Every time he left, he would press a kiss to your forehead as a goodbye.
One afternoon, after he departed, you ran to your pen, embarrassed by the frantic beating in your core. As you sought relief, touching yourself through your damp underwear, you felt something warm drip down your skin. Your breathy moans cut off abruptly when you saw the white fluid leaking from your perked breasts onto your stomach.
You knew this was a part of your nature, but finding out this way was terrifying. Yet, a stray thought of that man—of him drinking you up—sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Shivering, you grabbed a nearby bottle to collect the fluid.
When you finally presented the milk to the older man you considered a father, Yuji, and to your crush, they all agreed it was the most delicious thing they had ever tasted. They had no idea that the price of the milk they were drinking was your own flustered pleasure. They never asked why it tasted better than regular cattle; your father was just happy to see his farm thrive by your hand.
A decade has passed since you arrived at the farm. Tonight, the air is thick with thrill for the upcoming fair. At the dinner table, your father looks at you and Yuji with pride.
“You’ll be in the bull-fighting ring,” he says to Yuji, who is currently stuffing his face with the meal you prepared.
“Got it, Pops,” Yuji mumbles through a mouthful of food, making the old man let out an amused huff.
“And you, darlin’,” your father says, turning to you as he takes a bite of your cooking. “You’re going to sell yer milk.”
You almost choke on your drink. “H-how much do you need?"
“Three five-gallon containers by next week.”
Your heart drops to your feet. Three five-gallon containers? The math is staggering. You usually only produce a few small bottles at a time. As the heat rises to your face, you realize the sheer amount of time you'll have to spend alone in your pen, thinking of that man until you are completely worn out.
“O-okay! They’ll be done by then!” You force a smile, praying that neither your father nor Yuji notices the frantic, anxious wagging of your tail. Inside, your chest tightens with the sheer weight of such a demand.
The following week is a blur of isolation. You rarely left the barn. You are trapped in a cycle of overstimulation, your mind pushed to its limit as you try to conjure every possible fantasy to keep the milk flowing. You tease and pressure yourself until your body feels like a live wire, your fingers moving consistently even when your muscles ache with exhaustion. When Yuji comes to check on you, you only peek your head over the stall door, hiding your form—drenched in a mixture of sweat and milk—from his sight. You tell him you’re fine, but the truth is you are hollowed out, utterly drained by the effort of meeting the laborious quota.
By the time the fair arrives, you are a ghost of yourself. You can barely keep your eyes open to listen to Yuji ramble about how he’s going to dominate the bull-fighting ring. A light tap on your shoulder jolts you awake; Yuji is pointing out the window. The fairground is a kaleidoscope of color—crowds of people, the smell of fried dough, and, surprisingly, a few other beastmen scattered among the stalls. It’s a rare sight, one that would usually have fascinated you if you weren't so weary.
“Here, put this on,” your father says, handing you a collar adorned with a small, polished cowbell. “It’ll help attract folk.”
It feels like a heavy weight around your neck, but you’re too tired to argue, just as you were too tired to question the outfit he picked out for you. You’re dressed in a revealing cow-print bikini top and denim shorts that are far too tight. Your swollen chest strains against the thin fabric, the outline of your nipples clearly visible, while your plump thighs feel constricted by the hem of the shorts. You don't even have the energy to ask why you had to pack all your belongings into the trunk of the truck.
You take your place at a stall labeled with your name and the word MILK in bold letters. As you set out the small, cute cups for the samples, a fresh wave of heat hits your face. All you can think about is your crush appearing and seeing you on display like this.
A heavy thud breaks your trance.
Yuji drops the massive cooler filled with your week's work onto the floor next to you.
“Gosh… how ya’ not tired?” you ask, referring to the heavy bin he carries from the truck to your standup stall.
“My morning routine is harder than moving this box,” Yuji says with a shrug, patting the lid of the cooler.
You manage a small giggle. You’ve always loved how he brushes off his own power. He’s been your protector for as long as you can remember, always pushing himself to be stronger just so he can keep the people he loves safe.
“I’ll be in the ring,” he says, ruffling your hair. You groan at the mess he makes of it, but you can’t help but smile. “Hopefully the guys are as strong as they look.”
“Have fun, Yuji! Just stay safe,” you say, your voice finally gaining a bit of energy as you cheer him on.
“Thanks.” His expression shifts, becoming suddenly strict. He reaches out, cupping your hands in his. “Yell from the top of your lungs if anyone tries to touch you, okay? I mean it.”
It’s not a request; it’s a command. In moments like this, Yuji feels less like a friend and more like a big brother. You reassure him that you’ll be fine, and after a long, searching look, he finally nods and heads toward the arena, leaving you alone at your stand.
The rush begins almost immediately. People crowd around, drawn by the bell and the curiosity of your polite nature. Some ask for a cup, while others lean in close, making crude comments about wanting the milk "straight from the source." You’re too overwhelmed by the noise and the sea of faces to fully grasp their meaning, but the intense attention makes your heart race and your panties wet with your slick.
Having spent your entire life in the quiet safety of the barn, being eyed up and down by dozens of strangers was bone-chilling, so much so that the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Every compliment on the flavor of your milk makes you slur your words in embarrassment, your skin flushing as you realize just how exposed you truly are.
“There she is. My pride and joy.”
Your father’s voice cuts through the noise of the fair just as you’re thanking a woman for her purchase. You turn toward him and find him grinning broadly, flanked by two strangers who look nothing like the local farmers you’re used to.
The first is tall, with striking white hair and dark-tinted glasses that hide his eyes. He carries several bags of food and supplies with a toothpick tucked into the corner of his mouth, walking with a prideful, easy stride. You think he's a handsome man until your eyes shift to the man beside him, and then your heart simply stops.
He’s beautiful. Under long, thick eyelashes, his bright, emerald eyes seem to catch the gold of the setting sun. He walks with his hands in his pockets, a leisurely, quiet confidence radiating from him. You’ve lived your life around bulky, rugged men, so this "pretty boy" is a sight for sore eyes—though beneath his blue flannel, you can tell he’s built with a lean, formidable strength.
Your tail begins to wag in spite of your exhaustion, caught up in the exhilaration of these new faces.
“Hi, Daddy!” you chirp, lifting the jar on your counter. “I—I raised a lot of money for the farm.”
“That’s great, sugarplum, but that money’s for you,” the white-haired man interjects, his gaze traveling over you with unabashed interest.
“Oh?” You look away, your tail fluttering even faster against your legs.
“Can I get a cup?” the dark-haired man asks. His voice is smooth, making you nod sheepishly as you pour the cool, creamy liquid into a cup for him.
He takes a sip, then pauses, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. “You produced this… from your own body?”
“Isn’t it good?” your father adds enthusiastically, already handing a second cup to the man in the glasses.
The white-haired man dranks his cup in one go, letting out a low whistle. “Damn… that’s incredible.” He wipes a stray drop from the corner of his lip with his thumb, a gesture so intimate it makes your thighs squeeze together. You feel a fresh wave of heat between your legs, a puddle of dampness forming against your shorts that you desperately hope they don't notice.
The dark-haired man catches your flustered expression, and something in his eyes suggests he’s enjoying it. He downs another cup and tosses a few twenty-dollar bills onto the table with nonchalant ease.
“I’m not usually a fan of milk, but this is different,” he says, licking his lips.
“Easy, Megumi,” the white-haired man chuckles, already reaching for a fourth cup. “She isn’t going anywhere.”
“Mr. Gojo,” your father says, his voice laced with anticipation. “Now that you’ve tasted the produce, is the deal still on the table?”
Without a word, Gojo places a huge stack of bills on your stand. You gasp, your hand flying to your flushed chest. “D-Daddy… what’s happening?”
But your father is too swept up in the negotiation to answer you.
“We’re buying you and your friend, Yuji,” the dark-haired man says. His voice is a cool monotone, and you finally have a name to put to the face: Megumi. It’s a pretty name for a man, you think.
“Buying me? W-what do you mean?” You look at Megumi, but it’s your father who answers, patting both men on the back.
“I’m getting old, sweetheart. Your talents should go to younger folk who can really use ‘em—fine gentlemen like these two.”
Before you can protest, a hand appears in your line of sight.
“Satoru Gojo,” the white-haired man says with a wink. “Your new ‘Daddy.’” He chuckles at the title as he takes your delicate hand, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles. “And this is—”
“Fushiguro. I’m a farmhand on his land.” Megumi offers his hand as well. You take it with your free hand, feeling the rough, protective calluses of a man who knows hard work.
“Megs, you’ll scare her off,” Gojo teases, pulling back to pour himself yet another sample.
“Yeah, I’m the problem,” Megumi rolls his eyes, but his focus returns to you. Seeing your nervous giggle, he sandwiches your hand with both of his. “Please… don’t be worried. You’ll be doing the same work you did for your father, just on our farm.”
His voice is soothing, reminding you of your crush’s sultry voice all those years ago. You feel a strange sense of comfort in his touch. “Mhm… it’s just so sudden. Does Yuji know?”
“He’s the one who brought us to your old man,” Gojo interrupts. “Originally, I just needed hardworking hands. That’s why I hosted the bull-fighting ring.”
“You hosted…” You’re speechless, your lips parting in shock.
“Yes, Gojo lives for attention and flair,” Megumi sighs, pulling away to scratch the back of his head in mock distress. You get the feeling Gojo is a handful, much like Yuji. You almost feel bad for Megumi—he’s going to be the only one with his head on straight with another airhead around.
“Thank you for trying my milk and giving my daddy enough to retire on,” you say, bowing your head in gratitude. You’re too tired to realize that the movement gives them a perfect, unobstructed view of your cleavage.
“D-don’t mention it,” Megumi mutters, quickly turning his head away to hide a deep, creeping flush.
You look up, confused as to why Gojo has burst out laughing at Fushiguro, but you find yourself smiling anyway. Things are changing, but looking into Fushiguro's charming green eyes, you feel like you might be in good hands.
The fair was finally winding down, and the effort of moving your bags to Gojo’s massive truck was nearly the breaking point for your exhausted body. Just as you were struggling with the weight, Yuji appears, effortlessly hoisting one of your suitcases with a single hand.
“Thank you…” you murmur, wiping the persistent sweat from your forehead.
“No prob.”
As he turns toward the truck, you reach out, tugging urgently on his sleeve. “D-did you know? Did Daddy tell you he was plannin’ to give us away?” your voice, small, barely a whisper, as you glance nervously toward Gojo and Fushiguro to make sure they weren't listening.
“Yeah. Pops told us over yesterday’s dinner that Mr. Gojo was comin’ to the fair,” he says, patting your head, ruffling your ears. “You were pretty out of it when he told us, though.”
Typical. Your father would wait until you were half-conscious from exhaustion to drop life-changing news.
“I see…” You follow him to the truck, feeling a strange mix of betrayal and relief.
“Mhm. And Pops knows Gojo pretty well, so we’re gonna be fine,” Yuji reassures you, tossing your suitcase into the bed of the truck. “Now, sit your ass in the cab and just enjoy the ride.”
“If you say so…” You climb into the back, and the drive begins after you wave bye to your father from inside the car. The cabin was filled with the boisterous, booming laughter of Gojo and Yuji, but even their noise couldn't keep you awake. Within minutes, the tiredness won, and you were clocked out for the rest of the trip.
When you finally drift back into consciousness, you feel yourself being lifted. The arms holding you are incredibly strong, and in your daze, you assume it is just Yuji carrying you inside. But when you blink your eyes open and look up, you see dark, spiky hair and a sharp jawline. Your eyes widened.
“M-Mr. Fushiguro,” you stammer, your voice soft and airy. “I could’ve walked…”
“No,” he states flatly. He adjusts his grip, holding you in a careful bridal carry to ensure he wasn't touching you inappropriately. “You looked ready to collapse at the fair. It was only right to bring you to your new living space myself.”
As he carries you toward the barn, your eyes finally adjust to the scale of the place. It wasn't just a barn—it was a masterpiece. Gigantic, sliding wooden doors, polished red brick, and a height that rivaled a four-story house. It looked more like a luxury hotel than a farm building.
“Wow…” your mouth hung open.
Megumi let out a soft chuckle against your side. “I had a feeling you were going to react like that,” he says, looking down at you with a small smile.
He walks inside and leads you toward an open pen, but "pen" feels like the wrong word. It looks like a studio apartment, vastly larger and cleaner than your old living stall. As he set you on your feet, your tail began to wag in pure, unbridled excitement.
Megumi couldn't help but stare. He’d already thought you were drop-dead gorgeous from the front, but the sight of you from behind—with your tail wagging so cutely in those tight shorts—had his pulse racing. He looked away quickly, his ears turning a bright, tell-tale red at the tips.
“Are there… outside baths?” you ask, batting your long, pretty eyelashes, looking up at him.
“You don’t have to bathe with the cattle,” he says, his gaze lingering on your cow ears with clear fascination. “Your body is mostly human, so you’ll use the showers in the side house.”
“Thank you! Wait…” You look around, realizing someone is missing. “Where’s Yuji?”
“We have different barn houses for males and females,” he explains, his eyes dropping briefly to your still-wagging tail. “We don’t want the animals breedin’ without supervision. But since you and Yuji are beastmen, I assume you can control your urges.”
“Yep! No need to worry about us!” You beam at him, still marveling at the fact that Gojo had this much money to spend on his livestock.
“That’s good.” He glances back up at your ears. This time, you catch him.
“Y-you can touch ‘em if you want.” you offer, tilting your head to give him better access to the fluffy tufts of hair.
His touch is incredibly soft, but the slight roughness of his calloused fingers against your sensitive ears makes you let out a quiet, involuntary whimper. Megumi mutters something under his breath and pulls his hand back quickly.
“T-thank you for lettin’ me do that. I’ve been curious,” he says, his voice a bit strained.
You look up at him, your head still tilted low to hide your flustered expression. “Anytime, Mr. Fushiguro!”
“You don’t have to call me that,” he says, reaching out one last time to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Megumi is fine.”
You stand up straight, your teeth flashing in a bright smile as the orange evening light makes your skin glow. “Then you can call me by my name, too!” you squeal, the little cowbell around your neck ringing with the energetic movement.
He hums in response. “Get comfortable. If you need me, I’ll be in the main house.”
“Main house?” you tilt your head, your animal features making you look cuter than you already are.
He chuckles. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
He waves a brief goodnight and leaves you to unpack. As you stand there alone, replaying the way he’d carried you and the husky, alluring tone of his voice, you are genuinely surprised that milk hadn't started leaking through your top right then and there.
The following weeks do nothing to quell your growing obsession with Megumi. In fact, they make it worse.
He’s everywhere.
You see him in the fields, his shirtless, toned body glistening in the summer heat as he works alongside Yuji. You watch him in the barns, where he pets the animals with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. He lingers in the kitchen, watching you cook for the household. It feels as if he is always in your shadow, though never on purpose; it is simply his duty to care for the land, the cattle, and you.
Every time you offer him fresh milk, he accepts it with a gentle stroke of your ears. He often rings the bell around your neck, telling you he finds it adorable that he can tell you're approaching.
You never even think of taking it off.
If Megumi had been in your life back when you had to fill those five-gallon containers, it wouldn't have taken a week; you could have finished the order in a single day. He is so effortlessly attractive that you frequently find yourself ending conversations early just to run back to your pen. His voice alone is enough to turn you on.
One afternoon, Megumi was curious about why your milk tastes so delicious every time.
You are in your stall, kneeling on your soft duvet. You are lost in the act of pleasuring yourself because Megumi asked for a fresh glass.
And who are you to deny your favorite farmhand?
Your middle finger pumps sporadically inside your soaking cunt. You use your own squirt as lubricant to push a second finger deeper, while your thumb rubs aggressively against your clit, seeking the relief you so desperately crave.
You don't hear the heavy barn door slide open. You are too far gone, consumed by the thought of Megumi’s fingers—and his cock—replacing the emptiness of your dripping pussy. One of his old flannels hangs open off your shoulders; you stole it just to have his scent of sweat and musk lingering on your skin. It makes you clench your legs tighter. Your free hand squeezes your heavy, milk-filled, supple breasts into the suction tubes that lead to a bucket near the bed.
“Megumi—nghh! Y-you smell s-so good…” you moan, your tail wagging with a stiff, frantic energy.
“Damnit…”
The voice makes you freeze instantly.
“W-who’s there?” your voice is meek, trembling with sudden nervousness.
The stall door swings wide. You scramble to wrap the flannel around your frame, but you aren't fast enough to hide everything.
“It’s me,” Megumi says. His hands are up in a gesture of surrender, but his pants are unbuckled, with a prominent bulge behind his zipper.
“M-Megumi! I-I'm so sorry! Please tell me you didn't hear that!” You grab the edge of your sheets, trying to shield your glistening skin from his gaze.
“What? You moanin’ my name?” He steps closer, pulling the door shut behind him. His eyes drift to the bucket of milk beside the bed. “So this is how you get it to taste so good, huh?” he coos.
He pulls down the sheets. You find yourself complying, your hands falling limp as you expose your rosy breasts and your damp, aching pussy to him. “You pleasure yourself to make that sweet milk?” He sits on the edge of the bed, his gaze traveling over your body with hungry admiration.
You nod, a heatwave of embarrassment crashing over your face. “I-I’m so sorry,” you stutter.
“Stop apologizing.” His eyes lock onto your curves, tracing the way the light hits your moist skin. He reaches out, lightly tug at the sleeve of the flannel you're wearing. “I was wondering where this one went.”
“Megumi… why are you so calm about this?” You look up at him, your eyes watering from the sheer intensity of the moment.
“I’m just glad it’s me makin’ you moan like that,” he says, a smirk forming on his lips. He bites his bottom lip, looking into your eyes with a strong, seductive lust. “I thought you were interested in your childhood friend because he's always wit—”
“Megumi! Please don’t say that! Yuji is like a brother to me!” you cry out, hoping to kill that assumption.
“That’s good.” He sits closer, the mattress dipping under his weight. He runs a heavy, warm hand up and down the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “So, if touching yourself makes the milk this sweet... I wonder if other ways of pleasure will make you produce sweeter milk.”
“I-I’m not sure, I just know—ah!” You let out a squeal as Megumi abruptly grips down the suction tubes from your chest.
“Hm?” he hums, the sound vibrating with a questioning tilt, making it clear he expects you to keep talking.
“Um, I just know that whenever I-I pleasure myself, I produce milk.” Your entire body flushes, the heat growing under Megumi’s unblinking stare as he tracks the movement of your perky nipples.
“Can I… taste it?” he asks. The request makes you gasp, and you find yourself nodding before you can even think.
“Words. I need confirmation,” he commands, cupping your cheek. You lean into his palm instinctively.
“Y-yes… you can do anything you want to me,” you whisper, the honesty of it leaving you without a shred of regret.
“What a needy girl,” he squeezes one breast firmly in his palm before capturing the other milk seeping nipple between his teeth.
“‘Gumi!... Ha! A-are you biting?” You squeak, tears running down your soft cheeks as he smirks against you. This is a sensation entirely foreign to you. You always imagined it might be that man from years ago, but instead, it’s a farmhand with a powerful grip and a hungry mouth claiming you.
He pulls away, flicking the erect tip of your round, full tit with the tip of his tongue while looking up at you through his dark lashes. “Feel good baby?” he asks, his voice dropping into a sultry register that makes your thighs snap together.
He begins to knead and grope both breasts simultaneously. “Looks like your body speaks for you, huh?”
“Megumi…” You breathe his name so sweetly, so breathlessly, that it nearly makes him cum on the spot.
“Yes?” He gives your nipples one final tug before pulling the flannel completely off your shoulders, leaving you fully exposed.
“Ah… I-I like you a lot. And I want you to be my first… please…” You beg softly, your tail swaying in a slow, agonizingly rhythmic movement.
“I need to grab a condom and—” He starts to get up from the bed, intending to head to his room, but you catch his hand.
“No… Wanna feel ya.” You practically whimper the request, and a low growl rumbles in his chest.
“Fuck… okay.” He sinks back onto the bed.
You crawl toward him, your tail wagging excitedly as you hook your fingers under the waistband of his pants. He shifts his hips, allowing you to pull down his trousers and boxers while he peels off his shirt in one fluid motion.
When his cock springs free, you squeal at the sheer hardness of him. The tip is already slick with beads of light fluid, and he leans back on his hands, letting you take in the sight of him. You’ve never seen one so up close before; you hadn't expected it to look so… beautiful. The way his curves, the bold, thick veins of his cock trailing up to his hot, red tip—it's perfect. You lean down licking up the precum, he immediately tugs on your tail, making you whine.
“Don’t tease me,” he demands. “J-just sit on it.” He sits up and strokes himself once, and the action and his whinny voice makes your pussy twitch with need.
“Mhm!” You stand and straddle his lap, carefully aligning yourself with his throbbing shaft.
For a virgin, taking seven girthy inches might be a struggle, but you have dreamt of this for so long that you don't hesitate. You sink down, quick and deep, taking him all at once. Your bell lets out a loud, melodic chime as you bottom out on him. You hear him let out a ragged whimper at the sudden, overwhelming warmth of your tight walls, and your tail begins to wag faster.
“Fuck… you said this was your first time, right?” he asks, his voice strained with disbelief.
“I-it is! Am I doing something wrong?” Your face is full of worry, but he only grunts as he feels how perfectly you’ve taken him.
“N-no, just—Shittt!” He grips your hips firmly when you begin to grind against him. “Start using me.”
You don't waste a second. You begin to bounce, gripping onto his broad, wide shoulders for stability.
The sound of your combined fluids and the squelching of your bodies filling the stall. You moan, but Megumi is pathetically louder; he’s practically melting into the mattress, groaning as he hits the perfect angle against your cervix. He eventually leans forward, taking your leaky nipples into his mouth to muffle his own noises as you squeeze around him.
Even as he feels himself reaching the brink, you don't slow down when he warns you. Like an animal in heat—which isn't completely wrong—you keep up the energetic pace, determined to milk him dry. He strokes your tail, making you squeal, but you stay relentless.
You have never seen Megumi so undone. The way he buries his head in the crook of your neck, desperately gripping onto your plush hips as you completely destroy him with your advances.
He hits his peak three times before you even reach yours. The gushing and messy sex was getting overwhelming for poor Megumi’s weak dick. He does everything in his power to get you to cum—pinching and twisting your nipples, kissing your neck, and rubbing your puffy clit—but nothing. You just keep moaning and whining from the newfound pleasure. Until he captures your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.
You stop bouncing, fully immersing yourself in his hot mouth. Your tongues dance as you grind your hips back and forth.
Kissing is a whole new experience to you. And the way he groans into your lips makes you impossibly tighten around his flushed, fat cock.
Finally, after what feels like centuries of tension for him, you reach your peak. With one final, hard bounce, you cum all over him. Your sticky substance blends in with his white seed, even more milk begins to squirt from your breasts. Megumi’s rough hands push your tits together, drinking his fill as he tries to catch his breath.
“Fuck… it’s—” slurp “—so sweet for me.” He hides his blown-out face between your breasts, his heart racing while his cock simmers down from his fourth orgasm inside of you.
Megumi notices that your breasts are still tight, still heavy with unreleased milk. Your gummy walls, still pulsating around his limp cock. He looks up at you, groaning as he feels his cock stiffen up again.
“Wanna cum again…” you grind against him, mooing shyly, as your tail swings eagerly waiting for him to let you ride out another orgasm.
And who is he to say “no” to his precious cow-girl?
Author's Note.ᐟ: Last one for Gamer!Megumi series!! (well… until I think of something else) and I think Megumi would know everything because he's just that smart and educated!!
WCᐟ: 2.2k
⤷ Megumi is a Twitch Streamer.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part one!!
⤷ Megumi gets Heated from a Fan Interaction.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part two!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Gamer.ᐟgumi is mid-match, eyes locked on the screen with undivided attention, but the chime of a notification pulls his gaze away.
(You): Which one would look better on me?
Attached is a photo of two lingerie sets laid out on your cute fluffy bed: a red, sheer three-piece that leaves almost nothing to the imagination, and a pink lace teddy adorn with white ribbons at the neckline and hips.
He abruptly triggers his outro, kills the stream without warning, and is out the door. As he drives, one thought loops in his mind: She’s planning to see someone else. She’s asking her own boyfriend for a second opinion on what to wear for another man.
Back at your place, you’re in the kitchen snacking on fruit, swaying your hips to a song Megumi recently recommended. Your black silk nightgown moving gracefully with your movements. You’re completely unaware that your boyfriend has already let himself in, watching you from the shadows.
“What are you doing?” he asks. He hooks his arms around you from behind, and you let out a genuine scream of fright.
“Megumi! Y-you have to stop doing that!” you gasp, lightly swatting at the hand settled firmly on your waist.
Gamer.ᐟgumi ignores the protest. He spins you around, pulling you flush against his muscular frame and gripping your hips with possessive force.
“Are you doing something tonight without telling me?” he demands, his voice low.
“Mhm! Is this about the lingerie?” You giggle, oblivious to the storm in his eyes. “You came all this way just because I asked which one looked better?”
“Yes. Now tell me why you’re asking.” He scowls. He hates how cute you look in this nightgown; it’s a maddening distraction.
“I… I was just asking,” you stammer. It’s a clumsy lie, and he sees right through it. He knows every one of your tells.
“Don’t lie to me.” His grip tightens.
“Gosh… you’re no fun,” you pout, drawing out the syllables. You look up, meeting his hooded, green eyes, and your resolve immediately crumbles.
“I was planning to start an OnlyFans,” you admit, grabbing your phone to show him a GoFundMe page. “I want to raise money faster for this orphanage. People in my chat said this would be the best way—”
“Why are you such a cute idiot?” he mutters under his breath.
“Huh?” You tilt your head like a confuse puppy.
“You didn’t have to do this. I have more than enough money to fund any cause you care about.”
“No, no, no! I want to earn it myself!” you protest.
Gamer.ᐟgumi sighs, rubbing his temples. “Then let me help.”
“What? You don’t need to! I mean, I’ve got this. I’ve watched tutorials, and—”
“It requires professional camera work and an understanding of the market,” he says, flicking your forehead gently. “You’d be a ditz about both.”
“Gumiiii…” You wrap your arms around his waist, looking up at him. “Please help me raise the money, then.”
“Mhm.”
You eagerly tug him toward your colorful, cutesy bedroom to show him your new inventory. Spread out near a professional camera stand are several intimidating toys—the kind you’ve seen top pornstars use. You’ve never used anything that wasn't a part of him or your own fingers, and the sight of them makes the room suddenly feel very small.
Gamer.ᐟgumi moves with the practice efficiency of a tech wizard, adjusting lenses and tweaking lighting until the room is transformed into a professional studio. Once the frame is perfect, he points his index finger to the dark red lingerie resting on the duvet.
“Wear that and lie back,” he commands, his voice dropping to a dominant tone.
You follow his lead, the sheer fabric feeling like nothing against your skin as you settle onto the pillows. Before you could ask for the next step, he moves in a fluid blur. The metallic click of handcuffs echoes against the headboard, securing your wrists, followed quickly by the soft brush of a silk scarf being tied snugly over your eyes.
“Ah! Baby… w-what are you doing?” You squirm, the loss of sight making your other senses dial up frantically.
“Shhh… it’s going to be okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing your cheek in a fleeting kiss. “Just relax.”
The distinct beep of the recording starting made you stiffen. Usually, you were a natural on camera, but the vulnerability of the blindfold and the restraints make your heart hammer against your chest.
Trying Toys on My Girlfriend
〔$400 and up to control my movements〕
VIEWERS: 889.7K
Gamer.ᐟgumi lets out a low, dark chuckle as he watches the viewer count skyrocket. On the monitor, your body looks breathtaking—thighs clenching together, chest heaving with shallow breaths. He grips your ankles, hoisting your legs up to give the lens a clear angle of your ass as he lines up a row of toys on the bed beside you.
“The person with the highest donation gets to pick the first toy,” he announces to the chat.
“Y-you’re making them choose?” You felt him tilt your legs to the side, sensing that he was capturing your worried, blushing expression for the thousands of strangers watching. “I-I don’t think anyone is going to—”
[MrYeast Donated $400]: Use the beads. All of them.
“You hear that?” he says, and you could practically feel the predatory smirk on his face.
“B-beads?” you stutter. The air hit your skin as you felt his cold fingers find the zipper of the lingerie.
“It’ll feel good.” His rough index and middle fingers thrumming against your slit as he opens up your wet cunt. He begins to guide the first cold, metal sphere inside, making a broken whimper catch in your throat.
[ZeNuts Donated $421]: Push them in all at once. Fast.
He leans down, whispering a soft, private “Sorry” against your ear before obeying the prompt. He pushes the remaining string of ten cold beads inside of you in one swift motion.
“Ah—! T-too much!” you cry out, trying to curl onto your side to escape the overwhelming sensation.
Gamer.ᐟgumi is faster, he catches your knees, pinning your legs wide open for the camera, showcasing the juices oozing from your pussy.
“Donate $450,” he challenges the viewers, his hands hovering over the beads, “to watch me thrust them in.”
“Haah! Let me get used to them!” you whine, the sound muffled by your own uneven breathing. Tears track down your flushed cheeks, beginning to dampen the silk scarf tied over your eyes.
[Thanosjuicybal Donated $500]: Let me hear her scream.
Gamer.ᐟgumi doesn’t waste a second. He doesn't pull them out; instead, he leaves the last bead anchored to the entrance of your sopping cunt before thrusting the rest of the string back in, over and over with relentless speed.
“I-it feels so weird! Ahmm!” You strain against the handcuffs, your legs instinctively snapping shut to try and shield yourself.
[Fent_Plug Donated $453]: Strap her legs down. She’s moving too much.
“Good point,” Megumi murmurs. He delivers one final deep shove, seating the beads firmly inside you before grabbing your restless ankles. He secures them to each bedpost with another pair of handcuffs until you’re pinned completely open to the camera.
[Cream_mic0 Donated $590]: Take off her top and use the nipple clamps.
“Fuck… that’s hot.” He groans the words under his breath as he reaches for the hem of your dark red top. He peels it away, and the way your chest heaves causes you to sway in a way that’s alluring to him.
“Honey, baby, what are you—ahh! Oh my God!!” You gasp, the air catching in your throat as you feel the sharp, cold pinch of metal on your perky nipples.
Gamer.ᐟgumi leans down to press a lingering kiss upon your cheek before pulling back. “What’s next?” he asks, his voice booming for the thousands watching.
[turky_06 Donated $510]: Shove the butt plug in. Fast.
“I hope you’re ready,” he warns, though he doesn't wait for an answer. He clasps his hands under your hips, lifting you just enough to drive the plug home in one swift motion. The sudden feeling makes you surge against your restraints, your mind reeling from the dual penetration.
“Gaah! I-it’s too big!” you whimper, trying in vain to wiggle away from the pressure.
[twekbye Donated $406]: Tug at the clips.
Gamer.ᐟgumi obeys the chat, his fingers dancing over the chains of the clamps. He begins to tug playfully, the sharp stings making you bite your lip hard to stifle a moan.
“Baby… you have to let the people know you’re enjoying this,” he chides softly. He gives the clamps a much harder yank, and the spike of sensation forces a loud, airy gasp from your lungs.
[blueb0ll Donated $560]: Take out the beads and use your cock.
Gamer.ᐟgumi
Gamer.ᐟgumi lets out a low hum that vibrates in his chest.
“Damn… now that’s a donation I can get behind.”
“B-baby! I’ll cum if you do that!” you squeal, your voice trembling as you pray he’ll listen.
The room fills with the sound of movement—the rustle of items being cleared from the bed, the clatter of a belt hitting the floor, and the sweet relief of your legs being freed from the bedposts. You hear the camera stand being dragged closer, the bed dipping under his weight as he re-angles the lens. On the monitor, the many viewers now have a front-row seat to your trembling body and the sight of his thick, throbbing cock twitching mere inches from your leaky entrance.
“Please wait—Ah!” your words sounding like lewd moans as he hitches your free leg up to your chest, pinning you into a vulnerable arch.
Gamer.ᐟgumi circles your clit with his thumb, a low growl escaping him before he begins to put his pulsating cock in your tight pussy. He enters slowly, savoring the way you tighten around him. “Fuck… those beads did nothing to stretch you out,” he grunts, the friction almost too much for him to handle.
“Sweetie—” Hic “g-go slow, please,” you beg.
[Cigbock Donated $520]: Thrust into her until she calls you “Daddy.”
“Daddy? I-I don’t call you—Gaah!” You white-knuckle the chains of the handcuffs as he ignores your plea, driving deep and fast. The wet, rhythmic squelch of your bodies meeting echoes in the quiet room, your own squirt acting as a slick lubricant for his thick cock.
“Come on,” he groans, pushing your thighs even further back to expose you completely. “Say it. Call me Daddy.” “Haah! Please! Fuck me, Daddy!” You bite your lip, a wave of embarrassment washing over you. You never imagined you’d use that word for your stoic boyfriend, let alone that he’d be eating it up this much.
Gamer.ᐟgumi thrusts even deeper, a guttural grunt escaping him with every wet clap of skin on skin.
A buzz emits from his setup, signaling a reached milestone. To your shock, Megumi turns off the stream entirely. He shoves the camera stand aside and rips the blindfold from your eyes.
“Dadd—” Hic “I-I mean, baby… you’re not actually going to do that, right? Edge me?” You look up at him with watery, desperate eyes, your walls already pulsing around him as you teeter on the cliff of a climax.
“And what if I do, huh?” He leans down, tenderly licking and kissing away your tears. “We reached your fundraising goal. Shouldn't you be satisfied?”
“Please, please, please don’t,” you moan, struggling against the restraints to reach for his bare chest. “Wanna cum around you, please, let me—”
“Shit!” he grunts, he finally snaps at the sight of you so undone. “Fine, fine. But you have to loosen up so I can actually fuck you properly.”
You try to focus on your breathing, taking a ragged inhale as he begins to trail hot, distracting kisses along your breasts and the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.
As you finally begin to relax, Megumi starts to thrust into you again. He keeps the pace slow and agonizingly deep, drawing a long, shaky whimper from your throat. “S-so warm… fuck!” he rasps.
Gamer.ᐟgumi pushes deeper, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it in relentless, circular motions that send sparks through your nerves.
“Gumiiii—I-I'm gonna cum!” you cry out, your internal muscles clenching violently around his cock. The feeling makes him bury his face in your neck, letting out a rough growl as he loses himself in your pussy.
You gush around him, your walls squeezing with such intensity that you're practically milking him dry. He grips your thighs, his breath hot against your skin until the waves finally begin to settle.
When he finally pulls out, the sudden loss of fullness makes you whine, your legs falling limply onto the mattress.
“OnlyFans might have been one of your smartest ideas after all,” he smirks. He reaches up to unclip the nipple clamps—eliciting a squeal of mixed relief alongside a sting—before finally unlocking the handcuffs. Your arms drop heavily around his neck the second you're free.
“Megumi… you’re such a meanie,” you pout, hiding your flushed face in the crook of his shoulder as he wraps a strong arm around your waist.
Without a word of warning, he snakes a hand down your body and slides the butt plug out. You squeal his name at the sudden sensation, which only earns you a dark, amused chuckle.
“It wasn't me. Blame the chat,” he says, leaning in to capture your lips with a satisfied smile.
Encapsulation.ᐟ: He finally gets time to be with you, but he’s so exhausted that you take it upon yourself to help him feel good.
Tags.ᐟ: non curse au, cursing, smut with plot, fluff, mention of divorce, neglecting kid (not on purpose), overworked!megumi, sleepy!megumi, pussydrunk!megumi, afab!reader, motherfirgure!reader, mutual yearning, age-gap (m!34 + f!23), pet names, slight dub-con, somnophilia, slight overstim, deepthroat, oral sex (m+f), 69 position, cunnilingus, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: He would be a great dad in my opinion. Prob hates changing diapers though. And I thought using the name of one of his divine dogs as his kid's name was perfect!
WCᐟ: 3.2K
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Dilf.ᐟgumi greatest fear was becoming his father. Yet, as a single parent working back-to-back overtime shifts just to provide for his son, the guilt was becoming suffocating. He was providing a life, but he wasn't providing a presence, and the parallels to his own upbringing haunts him.
The situation with Kuro's mother had been the breaking point. During the brief time she lived with them, she was a ghost—either out late or entirely indifferent to their son’s needs. The house finally fractured the night Megumi returned from his job to find a man in his own bed.
Dilf.ᐟgumi got full custody over Kuro in court, but it came at a steep price. More bills meant more shifts. Morning routines became a blur of rushed, sloppy meal prep and exhausted goodbyes. Out of necessity, Kuro became self-sufficient far too early, learning to navigate a quiet apartment and cold lunches on his own.
While Kuro remains a bright, observant child, the isolation was taking its toll. His grades were slipping as he distanced himself from his peers. The school's frequent phone calls became a permanent fixture of Megumi's workday.
Dilf.ᐟgumi drives himself to Kuro’s school for the umpteenth time this year, Megumi prepares for another lecture on Kuro’s lack of focus. He braces himself as he turns the handle to the classroom, but the lecture never came.
Instead of the usual teacher at the desk, he sees you.
You are kneeling on the floor, eye-level with his son, deep in a world of make-believe with a black, stuffed dog. The sight stops Megumi in his tracks. For the first time in months, the silence of Kuro’s life was gone by a genuine, bubbling giggle as he sat small in his plastic chair, his face lit with a joy Megumi hadn't seen in years.
Dilf.ᐟgumi leans against the doorframe, his chest tightening with a mix of relief and intrigue.
“Looks like I’m interrupting something important.” Megumi’s voice gravelly from exhaustion.
“Oh! Good afternoon. You must be Mr. Fushiguro.”
Your voice was a big contrast to the previous teacher’s—soothing, polite, and genuinely warm. You gave Kuro's cheek a soft, affectionate squish before crossing the room toward Megumi. Extending your hand with professional grace, you introduce yourself.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Your smile was effortless, carrying a kindness that somehow dials down his mental and physical stress.
“Likewise,” Megumi replies, his grip firm despite his fatigue. He glances around the room, noting the absence of a familiar face. “Where is Ms. Mei?”
You withdrew your hand, clearing your throat as you lean in, lowering your voice to a confidential whisper. “She had… an inappropriate liaison with one of the older students.”
“What?” The word came out laced with a mix of shock and immediate disgust. His first instinct was to grab Kuro and walk out of the building entirely, but you quickly raise your hands in a calming, dismissive gesture, silently asking him to hear you out.
“Please, don’t worry. She was escorted off school grounds immediately and hadn't harmed any of the other children,” you explain, bowing your head slightly in a gesture of shared embarrassment. “The emergency email should have detailed the transition. I apologize if you didn't see it.”
Dilf.ᐟgumi stayed on top of his inbox—usually. But between the long nights at the office and the mountain of bills currently buried on his home desk, it was easy to see how a notification could have slipped through the cracks.
“It’s fine,” he mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “My inbox stays flooded.”
“You must be a very busy man, Mr. Fushiguro,” you say, softly. You gesture for him to follow you to the back of the room, where you took your seat at the desk. Megumi pulls up a standard-sized chair from a nearby group table, feeling far too large for the small, colorful classroom.
“'Busy' doesn’t even scratch the surface,” he says, trying to settle his frame into the seat. He looks over at Kuro; seeing the big smile on the boy's face made his heart melt.
You puff out your cheeks into a silly duck face, catching Kuro’s eye and sending him back into a fit of giggles. When you look over to Megumi watching you with tired, hooded eyes, you immediately straighten your expression, turning back into professional mode.
“Kuro has been struggling to stay focused on his work, and he doesn’t socialize with the other kids,” you say, your hand resting gently on a stack of his incomplete assignments. “If we don’t see an improvement soon, he’ll be looking at retaking the year.”
“...Shit,” Megumi grumbles under his breath. He winces the moment it left his mouth, but you didn't flinch. Instead, you offer a small, encouraging look.
“But, I have an idea—”
Your suggestion was cut short by the aggressive buzz of Megumi's phone against his thigh. He checks the screen, his expression hardening instantly.
“Sorry,” he clips out, already standing up. “I have to take this.”
Without waiting for a response, he steps out into the hallway, leaving the quiet warmth of the classroom for the cold demands of his other life.
Dilf.ᐟgumi conversation in the hall ends with a forceful agreement to head back to the office. He steps back into the classroom just in time to see you playfully "stealing" Kon’s nose.
“Kuro” Megumi’s voice was low, commanding, “It’s time to go.”
Kuro immediately stands up, "taking back" his nose from your hand and carefully pressing it back onto his face. The sight made you let out a soft giggle.
“Mr. Fushiguro,” you say, standing up and smoothing out your clothes as you walk over to pat Kuro’s head. “The idea I mentioned before… I was thinking of in-home tutoring sessions.”
He closes the distance between you, his height easily towering over yours. His expression tightens with a formidable, defensive edge. “I can't afford a private tutor right now—”
You cut him off with a gentle wag of your index finger.
“No money required! I can come over every other day to help him catch up. Kuro is a bright, wonderful boy, and I want to see him succeed.”
Dilf.ᐟgumi shoulders actually drop an inch in relief. The thought of Kon failing second grade because he wasn't home enough to help him study had been a weight he didn't know how to carry. Megumi drops to one knee, a rare, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Do you like that idea, bud?” he asks. He didn't even need the answer; the "yes" was written all over Kuro’s beaming face. Megumi reaches out to tickle the boy’s belly, earning a round of breathless giggles before standing back up to face you.
“Kuro has a test this Thursday,” you add. “Would Wednesday night work for the first session?”
Dilf.ᐟgumi nods, quickly exchanging numbers with you before ushering Kuro to the car. He drops Kon off at home, but there is no rest for him—he heads straight back to the looming, gloomy office building. The night was a fog of spreadsheets and cold coffee; by the time he finally trudges through his front door at three in the morning, he is utterly drained.
The next afternoon, as the school day settles down and the other children are whisked away by their parents, you sit on the colorful train rug with Kuro.
“Sweetie, where's your dad?” you ask softly, kneeling beside him. He was coloring quietly, his focus entirely on the paper.
“I’ll walk home soon,” Kuro says, his voice small. He didn't look up, but you could hear the slight, tell-tale shiver in his throat. It hit you then, this was his normal. Walking home alone to an empty house was just another part of his routine.
Without a second thought, you scoop him up and settle him on your hip. “Not today baby. Let’s get you home.”
On the drive over, you let him take full control of the radio. He is so joyful when he has this control, cranking the volume and bouncing in his seat, free from the worry of giving his father a migraine with the noise.
When you arrive, Kuro unlocks the door and leads you inside. There was no sign of Megumi, and the silence of the house made your heart ache for Kon.
“Ma’am!” Kuro calls out, locking the door behind you with rehearsed ease. He pulls you toward the couch, where he already has his books and pencils laid out. “I’m ready to study!”
The session was peaceful. To your surprise, Kuro even insisted on "making" you dinner—a simple microwave meal that shows just how much he’d had to learn to do for himself. As you ate, the little boy began to open up, his voice echoing in the quiet kitchen as he told you everything: the long nights, the empty rooms, and the mother who had left them both behind.
The night bled through the windows, casting shadows across the living room as Kuro eventually drifts off to sleep in your lap. When you carry him to his room to tuck him in, he won't let go. His small hand grabs a hold of yours, tugging you down toward the mattress.
“Please stay,” he says, sleepily, pressing your palm against his cheek. “I don't want to be alone.”
Your heart swells up right then and there. You stay, sitting against the headboard as he curled into your side, his breathing finally calm and even.
Dilf.ᐟgumi finally slogs through the front door around four in the morning, the house isn't cold and uninviting, like it typically is. As he finds the two of you in the dim glow of the bedside lamp—Kuro sleeping peacefully against you, and you resting your head back. For the first time in a long time, Megumi didn't just feel tired; he felt a sense of peace that made him smile.
Over the following months, your presence becomes the heartbeat of their home. You weren't just a teacher anymore; you were the person who looks after Kuro and, in many ways, looks after Megumi too. You even begin joining them for weekend errands, helping turn chores into moments of connection.
“Kuro is actually starting to eat carrots,” Megumi reflects one Saturday, pushing the cart through the freezer aisle. He glances over at you, a brow arching in curiosity. “Did you make that happen?”
You eagerly nod, holding tightly onto Kuro’s hand as he skips beside the cart. “Yep! You just have to be a bit silly about it. If you make the food a character, he’s much more likely to eat it.”
“Figures,” Megumi murmurs, tossing a bag of pizza rolls into the cart with a faint, amused huff.
“What a lovely couple,” an elderly woman says to her friend as they pass by.
“Oh, look at their little critter,” the other lady adds, wiggling a finger at Kuro, who gives them a shy wave.
Dilf.ᐟgumi isn’t fazed by the “dating” comments and so are you. They heard them everywhere, at the park, the grocery store, the school. To the rest of the world, you were already a family. To Kuro, you had become the mother figure he’d been missing, and seeing the boy seek out your lap the moment Megumi got home from work was a sight that never failed to soothe him.
Dilf.ᐟgumi secretly had begun to see you as far more than just a teacher. You were brilliant, kind, and possess a warmth that seems to recharge him the moment he steps through the door. Coming home didn't feel like a second job anymore; it felt like a sanctuary.
As Kuro’s confidence grew and he began making friends at school, Megumi found himself gravitating closer to you. Finally, on a Friday afternoon when he manages to get off work early and Kuro is at a playdate, he decides to take the leap.
Dilf.ᐟgumi sends you a quick text:
Off work early. I’d like to take you on a date.
Knowing he was likely running on fumes despite the early dismissal, you suggest a movie night at his place instead. You knew him well enough to know that a cozy room and a comfortable silence were exactly what he needed. He agreed to the arrangements quickly, happy that you've grown to know him so well.
After putting all your students' papers in a folder, you head home to freshen up. You go over to Megumi’s house in an oversized shirt, shorts, and slippers. The date ends with the two of you tangled together in his bed after the movie. As you run your fingers through his dark, messy hair, the tension finally leaves his frame, and he falls into a deep, heavy sleep.
When you wake up the next morning, the room is beaming with soft sunlight. Megumi is still asleep beside you, his features, beautiful and soft. You trace the line of his jaw, marveling at the man behind the exhaustion. Usually, you’d be in the kitchen by now, prepping a breakfast he can eat on his way to work, but this morning was different, he has time off and you want to give him a different kind of care.
Moving carefully, you shift until you are straddling him, keeping your weight on your knees so as not to wake him too abruptly. You pepper his neck and jaw with soft, sweet kisses. A low, satisfied hum vibrates in his chest. He was waking up, but wasn't ready to let go of the dream yet.
Your hands find the hem of his tank top, sliding it up to reveal the strong, hard muscle of his torso. As your nails trail down his stomach, following the dark, hairy happy trail that disappears beneath his waistband, Megumi lets out a thick groan.
With practice, quiet precision, you slide down to the ground, just off the edge of the bed, you work his sweats and boxers down to the floor. The cool morning air hit his already heavy cock. His eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep, as he looks down at you.
“W-what are you doing?” his voice groggy, raspy. He bites his bottom lip, his breath hitching.
You take no time to start kissing the base of his shaft, teasing the precum of his pink, perfect tip with your thumb when a cry leaves him.
“Just relax,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his tip. “You’ve worked so hard. You deserve this.”
“You don’t have to… fuck!” he chokes out, his fingers tangling in your hair as you take him into your mouth.
Dilf.ᐟgumi hadn't had a moment for himself in years. Between the crushing weight of the office and the demands of single fatherhood, his own needs had been buried under a plethora of responsibility. You can feel the desperation in the way he moves against you, a broken whine escaping his throat as you swirl your tongue around him.
Dilf.ᐟgumi gets close; you can tell by the way he thrusts his hips into your mouth. His hands tighten in your hair as he pushes deeper, a silent plea for release. You use your hands to stroke the length you can't quite fit, moaning around what you currently have in your mouth, focusing entirely on him until he finally breaks. Releasing all of his hot, sticky cum into your mouth with a sharp, ragged breath, his body shudders beneath you as he pushes his hair back from his forehead.
“You’re an angel. I—shit!”
Dilf.ᐟgumi tries to pull you up from his sensitive cock as you lean back down, determined to show him the same level of devotion he gives to his job.
“B-baby…” he grunts, his eyes glossing over. “You work just as hard as I do. Let me… let me eat you out.”
You pull away with a wet pop, making him growl from the loss of release and the exotic noise. You shaking your head. “No, Megumi. This is about you. You’re the one who's exhausted.”
“Please.” The look in his green eyes are too vulnerable to refuse.
You sigh. Standing up to discard your shorts and underwear in a single motion as he throws his own shirt into the shadows of the floor. He sits up a bit, his gaze intense. “Sit on my face while you finish me off.”
Well isn't he bold this morning. You thought, taking off your shirt and bra.
“Are you sure?” you ask, your heart hammering. “Are you even awake enough for tha—”
“I’m more than awake to taste you,” he counters, you feel the wetness travel down your leg as he states his claim.
You nod, getting into position to straddle his head, your knees resting on either side of his face.
You look over your shoulder, letting out a breathy laugh, “Megumi, sweetheart, it's really not— ah!”
Dilf.ᐟgumi cuts you off short, his large hands anchoring your hips as he pulls you down firmly against his mouth. The first stroke of his tongue was broad and moist, sending a violent shiver down your spine that forces your hands to catch the tangled sheets for balance.
You swallow a moan, trying to keep your focus as you lower your mouth back onto him. With one hand stroking his length and the other braced against his thigh, you begin a steady rhythm. The sound of his muffled groans vibrating against you only makes the heat between your legs flare hotter.
Dilf.ᐟgumi is a professional pussy eater. He is relentless. He moves with a devastating accuracy that makes your head spin, his tongue working in deep, rhythmic sweeps. He doesn’t just stop there—his thumb finds your clit with steady pressure, pinching and sucking as you tighten your legs around him. While his other hand moves to your ass, kneading and groping you closer until there is no space left for him to properly breathe. He is thorough, devoted to your pleasure in a way that makes it clear how much he had been holding back. In that moment, you couldn't help but think his ex-wife was a fool for ever walking away from a man like this.
As your orgasm hits, you gag around his length, your fingers digging into his strong thighs. You let out a muffled whimper against him, feeling him cum a second time just as you shatter.
Eventually, you rise off his face, breathless and trembling as he lets go of your hips. You turn around, straddling over his cock, collapsing onto his chest, your skin slick with sweat as you look up at his dazed, tired face. You notice a stray drop of your own juice on his cheek.
“Looks like you got a little bit of me on you.” you giggle, reaching up to wipe it away, but you were too slow; he catches your hand and licks it off your finger with a lazy, triumphant smile.
“Delicious,” he mutters. He uses his thumb to catch a stray drop of his own fluid from your bottom lip before pulling you into a deep, lingering kiss.
“Thank you,” he says softly against your mouth.
“For what?” you ask, tilting your head in confusion.
Dilf.ᐟgumi lets out a deep, soulful chuckle and cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with more tenderness than you thought possible.
“For taking care of Kuro… and for taking care of me.”
Author's Note.ᐟ: Megumi being a possessive gamer is like my favorite thing right now. There is definitely going to be a part three (well if this one goes well) and I have the PERFECT idea for it.
WCᐟ: 2.4K
⤷ Megumi is a Twitch Streamer.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part one!!
⤷ Megumi helps with your OF.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part three!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Gamer.ᐟgumi finds himself being dragged through the mall by you—his sweet, beautiful girlfriend who is arguably far too good for him. You are currently mid-vlog, as he is filming your personal style for your followers.
In one hand, you held up a delicate floral crop top; in the other, a graphic tank with "Nirvana" wording in cheetah print. Beside you, a shopping basket sat on the floor, already overflowing with a curated selection of shirts and skirts.
"I think both of these are adorable, but I'm stuck," you say, alternating between holding each top against your chest. You look over at him with a pout. "Which one do you like better, baby?"
Gamer.ᐟgumi first instinct was to tell you that you’d look best in nothing at all, but he wasn't about to give his chat the satisfaction of agreeing with him. Instead, his voice peaks from behind the screen.
"Just get both," he mutters. He reaches down and snags a pair of blue denim bellbottoms, holding them in front of the camera so they align with your waist. "And pair them with these."
"Okay! But I really don't want to overdo it," you protest, pointing toward the overcrowding of bags hanging from his arms—a chaotic mix of high-fashion outfits, lacey lingerie, and oversized plushies.
He just scoffs, adjusting his grip on the bag handles. "I'm the one paying anyway. Put them in the basket."
[phat_dumpling]: gonna buy me cute clothes too??
[goodiesfein]: buy her the whole store before i do
[mangupowa]: he def picked both for two BIG reasons
Gamer.ᐟgumi has felt a presence trailing them since they entered the store, but he brushes it off as just another shy fan of yours. As you make your way to the cash register, you linger over a display of lipsticks, nervously sliding a few shades next to the pile of clothes. You glance at him, hoping he wouldn't mind the extra additions; of course, he didn't.
"Your total is $243.21," the cashier announces. Hearing the number causes you to flinch, and you immediately move to put the lipsticks back.
Gamer.ᐟgumi hates that. He hates when you feel guilty about his spending. He lives for the way your face lights up over cute things and wants to keep your head filled with happy thoughts, not the weight of price tags or responsibility. But, being the adorable person you are, you couldn't help but second-guess the gifts.
Without a word, Megumi places the lipsticks back on the counter, and swipes a black metallic card to cover the full total. He gathers the new bags, looping the handles over his wrist.
"You’re too good to me, baby boy," you murmur, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Gamer.ᐟgumi shifts the camera, angling it upward to capture the perspective of how you look up at him. He drapes one long arm around you, his hand resting securely right above the arch of your ass. You look up, beaming at him with a smile so bright it made the viewers feel like you were staring right through the lens at them.
[digginenme]: fuck shes cute
[MDDAWG]: wish my girlfriend was that thankful for me
[CEODiscipline]: he's getting crazy head tonight
Gamer.ᐟgumi momentarily lifts his hand from your waist to brush a stray lock of hair from your face before settling his grip firmly back on your hip. He began guiding you toward the next destination on your long list of shops.
"Cutiepie! There’s this other store I saw across the way with Sanr—"
"It really is you."
A deep voice from behind cut you off, prompting both you and Megumi to spin around. A man who looks to be in his late-thirties approaches with an eager stride. "I’m a big fan! Please, can I get a picture?"
Gamer.ᐟgumi instincts had been right—they were being followed. He cringes as he notices the man was wearing your latest merch: a shirt—too tight on his fat stomach, (featuring your face framed by bunny ears), paired with bright pink pants, and a fedora to top off his creepy aura. Of course, with your reputation for being far too kind, you immediately chirp a "Of course!"
Gamer.ᐟgumi steps back, continuing to film for the vlog. He keeps the lens steady, but his eyes low, scanning for any sign of discomfort as the man moves in to take a selfie. He despises how fans—regardless of age—act as if they had a claim on you. You always laugh it off and call it silly, but the casual way you accept their attention gnawed at him.
The man snaps the photo, but as he pulls away, he gets to spank your ass. You jump, but let out an embarrassed little laugh to match the man’s boisterous chuckling. Megumi was ready to drop the bags and handle it right then and there. As the fan waves goodbye and you return to Megumi’s side to plant a soft kiss on his cheek, his pulse slows, but only slightly.
"Did he hurt you?" he asks, his hand immediately finding the spot where the man had struck you, rubbing it soothingly.
"Of course not! That happens sometimes when I meet fans," you say, tapping a thoughtful finger against your bottom lip. "Actually, some usually try to kiss me or give me huge hugs. It’s so sweet, isn’t it?"
Gamer.ᐟgumi lets out a low grunt, scowling at the man that physically assaulted you and he abruptly kills the recording, shoving your phone back into your hands.
"Gumi! We still had other stores to—"
"A new character just dropped in one of my games," he interrupts, his arm looping around your waist as he pulls you toward the exit. "We’re going home. Now."
Gamer.ᐟgumi marches to the parking lot, his thumb stabbing the trunk release on his key fob. He stuffs the mountain of shopping bags into the car with more force than necessary.
"But I thought you weren't playing until later tonight?" you ask, scrolling through the vlog footage he had ended so suddenly.
"I changed my mind." He slams the trunk with a heavy thud. He holds your door open, shutting it with an aggressive click the second you are safely inside.
Gamer.ᐟgumi grips the steering wheel, his jaw clenching. He couldn't wrap his head around how you remain so unaware—of the blatant advances from strangers, the thirsty comments that flood your joint streams, and the way every man in that mall stares at the way your outfits hug every curve. You hum along to the radio, staring out the window, seemingly oblivious to the storm brewing beside you.
Gamer.ᐟgumi strides into the house, dropping the shopping bags onto the bed. He tugs his sweater over his head, catching a glimpse of his v-line before his graphic tee settles back into place. Without looking at you, he drops into his gaming chair and begins his startup routine.
"Put on that blue lingerie set—the skimpy one with the bows," he commands, his voice lace into a low, sharp tone. He reaches for his headset and flicks on his mic, his focus entirely on the glowing monitors.
"Mhm! Do you want me to wait somewhere specific?" you ask softly, already stepping out of your skirt and shirt.
"No." He boots up the game, the light of the loading screen reflecting his dark eyes. “You’re going to suck me off as I play.”
"Baby... are you just pent up because I was trying on all those outfits?" You tilt your head, catching his gaze in the desk mirror. He answers with a low, warning growl.
Gamer.ᐟgumi sits up just long enough to shove down his pants and boxers. He spins in his chair back towards you, his expression irritable as he displays exactly how much that fan at the mall had riled him up. His cock hard, thick, standing high, oozing from the tip between his legs.
"That’s only part of it," he licks his lips as he sizes you up in the lingerie, raking a hand through his hair to clear his vision.
Gamer.ᐟgumi dives into the new character's kit, he keeps his voice steady and professional for the stream, delivering takes to his fans even as he moves seven inches deep against the back of your throat. Your saliva and his fluids coating his shaft and legs. He stays focused on the high-level gameplay, but when he dies, his hand stays buried in your hair, guiding you. By the time he releases, he left a mess across your chest and the delicate lace of the new set he just bought you.
[sexyp0tato]: Why is bro flustered?? The character is not that hot
[infamouscreep]: am i hearing slurping or am i crazy??
[cosmiomax]: where did our little angel go??
Gamer.ᐟgumi loses on a crushing defeat. He plops his head onto the desk, quickly muting his mic. To the thousands watching the stream, it looks like a moment of genuine frustration over the loss—but in reality, he is focused on you. He leans down, his hand firm on the back of your head as he pushes you deeper, forcing your nose against his lower abdomen.
"Fuck... I’m losing because my girlfriend is doing such a good job on me," he coos, his voice a dangerous silk. You let out a muffled moan, bobbing your head slowly as your hand goes up to rest on his thigh. He immediately smacks your hand away. You flinch, pulling back from him with a small, confused whine.
"W-why can’t I touch you, sweetie?" you whispers, glancing nervously at the setup, unsure if the mic was truly dead.
"You want to be a little whore and let strange men touch you at the mall?" His voice is cold as he snaps the strap of your blue bra against your shoulder. "Please me while I play the next round. Maybe then I'll give you a chance to redeem yourself."
You nod sheepishly, taking him back into your mouth. You look up, meeting his piercing green eyes; he let out a low grunt before sitting back up to start another hour of gameplay.
Gamer.ᐟgumi couldn't lie—he’d already came twice during the stream, but he was still rock-hard from the way you were working on him. You unclip your bra, using your breasts to stroke him while you focus on the tip.
Gamer.ᐟgumi stays perfectly composed for the camera, giving his chat crucial notes on the new character’s kit and sharing his settings. When he finally delivers his outro—a sign-off that perfectly mirrors your own—you pick up the pace, catching every drop as he finishes for the third time.
"Gumi... are you still mad at—"
Gamer.ᐟgumi didn't let you finish. He grabs your throat, with a strong grip, tilting your head back to pull you into a deep, messy kiss. He bites down on your bottom lip, hard enough to draw a copper tang of blood. He was still frustrated, and he was clearly intent on taking that energy out on you.
"I'm not mad at you," he states against your lips. He drags you up to your feet, standing with you as he captures your mouth again. "I’m just sick of your sweet acceptance of every stupid shit people do to you."
Gamer.ᐟgumi kisses trails down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he shoves the straps of your lingerie out of the way. You shiver, moaning as he begins leaving a trail of dark, possessive hickeys.
"I didn't do anything stupid," you gasp out, reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair—but he slaps your hand away again, refusing to let you be the one in control.
He scoffs, snagging his arms under your thighs and hoisting you up. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist.
"Of course a brat like you wouldn’t realize what she’s done," he says, his grip on your thighs tightening until his knuckles went white. "Maybe I need to show you exactly who you belong to."
Gamer.ᐟgumi looks up at you with a cocky, heavy-lidded smirk, his eyes dark and alluring as he carries you over to the full-length mirror.
"Look at yourself," he commands, nodding towards your reflection. You are draping over him, your skin flush against his frame. You let out a small squeal as you saw yourself perched right above his throbbing cock. "I’m the only one allowed to touch this body. Right?"
You nod, offering a shy, shaky smile to his reflection. But he wasn't having it.
He squeezes your thighs and the curve of your ass, his voice dropping an octave.
"Say it. I want to hear it," he said, his eyes roaming over you with a raw, hungry longing. "Say I’m the only one who gets to touch you."
"Mhm... you're the only one who gets to touch me, baby," you whimper, instinctively grinding against him to ease the ache between your legs.
Gamer.ᐟgumi let out a low groan. He hooks a finger under the lace of your lingerie, sliding the fabric aside to clear a path. He begins to sink into you, but at an agonizing slow pace. Every time you try to take the lead and bounce against him, his sheer strength pins you in place, making you whine out his name.
"We’re going at my pace," he grunts, his breath hot against your neck. “I’m still not over what happened at the mall.”
He thrusts inch by agonizing inch, making you whimper with desperate need.
"Gumi, please!" You cup his cheeks to force him to look at you instead of where your bodies become one. “I’ll stop! I-I won’t be so oblivious anymore!”
“You will,” he counters, though he leans in to kiss the palm of your hand. “But I can’t exactly leave you needy, can I?”
Gamer.ᐟgumi stops holding back then, beginning to drive into you with a sudden, relentless intensity. He moves you to the cold, hard surface of the wall. Megumi shoves your legs back toward your chest, pining you there to gain every bit of depth.
"Shit... you're so tight," he groans, his thrusts turning fast and feral. "Where do you want it? Where do you want me to cum?”
In me! F-fill me up, please!" you cry, your head tossing back.
With one last, heavy strike of his hips against yours, he buries himself deep and lets go. He finishes inside you, his pulsating cock simmers down as you came undone, clinging to his shoulders. When he finally pulls back, your legs go limp, but he catches you easily, turning you back to the mirror one last time.
"I’m the only one who can make you feel like this," he says. It sounds less like a comment and more like a vow. As he watches your dazed, ruined expression in the glass, a surge of pride washes over him.
Pairing.ᐟ: Gamer!Megumi Fushiguro x Bimbogamer!reader
Encapsulation.ᐟ: Sitting on Megumi’s lap while he plays a scary game was a really stupid idea.
Tags.ᐟ: non curse au, cursing, pet names, stream chat, dirty talk, teasing, POSSESSIVE!megumi, pervy!megumi, rough!megumi, dominant!megumi, sub!reader, afab!reader, curvy!reader, dumbification, size difference, slight masturbation (m!rec), cockwarming while playing, grinding, reverse cowgirl, riding, slight overstim, edging, ass slapping, thigh groping, straddling, messy sex, unprotected sex, creampie, no aftercare, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: The thought of him as a gamer is genuinely so good! Like the fics of him as a gamer are sooo delicious!
WCᐟ: 3K
⤷ Megumi gets Heated from a Fan Interaction.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part two!!
⤷ Megumi helps with your OF.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part three!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Gamer.ᐟgumi mains damage characters and has every combo down to muscle memory. It’s not that he can’t play other roles—he can—but he gets far more satisfaction out of eliminating enemies than protecting or supporting his team.
Gamer.ᐟgumi only started streaming because Yuji pushed him into it. Yuji has his own channel, mostly playing tanks and brawler-type characters, and Megumi was almost always in his games. Viewers quickly pick up on Megumi’s gameplay, praising how sharp and efficient he was. Some even caught his voice through the in-game mic, calmly giving callouts or snapping at Yuji for dumb decisions, which only made people more curious to see things from his perspective.
Gamer.ᐟgumi eventually started streaming himself with the help of Yuji. He had zero interest in showing his face, so his setup stayed simple: just a camera angled toward his LED keyboard and mouse. Still, his first stream blew up overnight. And it wasn’t just because of how effortlessly he wiped out enemies, half his audience was hooked on the sight of his strong, veiny hands moving across the keys, paired with that low, husky voice.
[bigbrooscar]: w game!!
[dr00lergurl]: ur voice is so HOT! followinggg
[gripmet!ght]: is it just me or does his hands look suckable???
Gamer.ᐟgumi clicks his tongue in irritation, quickly blocking the thirsty fans crawling into his chat. He keeps his focus on the viewers asking for tips or his settings, ignoring everything else. Still, his chat is packed with suggestions, mostly survival horror games, which he cleared easily.
One night, he queues into competitive and ends up getting deranked, thanks to what he swears are terrible healers. He can’t tell if it’s just the late hour or if players have genuinely gotten worse, but either way, his patience wears thin. His chat gets a front-row seat to his frustration as the losses pile up, his voice getting hostile with every match.
[bellierswish]: why don’t you play with a healer main?
[swag_f!sher]: my man i think you should wrap it up for tonight.
[tinkerflick]: fine healer main playing rn! collab with her!!
Gamer.ᐟgumi glances over at his chat and notices a flood of messages spamming your channel link. At this point, he’s desperate to climb back out of Grandmaster, so he clicks without thinking twice.
Your stream pops up, and it immediately catches his attention. The setup is soft and pastel, decorated with Sanrio plushies and neatly stacked manga lining the shelves. It’s cozy, but you, sitting oh so pretty in your bunny gamerchair, thanking a donor for a hundred dollars toward your fundraiser, your voice warm and bright.
His pretty, green eyes lingers longer than he means to. Then your eyes flick to the chat.
“Huh? Someone wants to collab with me?” you ask, tilting your head slightly as his viewers start pouring in, letting you know exactly who’s watching.
“...Shit, this is embarrassing,” he mutters under his breath.
He hesitates for half a second before typing into your chat:
“Yeah, sorry for dropping in out of nowhere. Are you down to collab right now?”
You read it, blinking in surprise before smiling just a little.
“Oh, I don’t know,” you say lightly. “Are you okay with me fundraising for a children’s hospital?”
[cheesebunga]: he'll do anything to get out of grandmaster tonight
[lvl1_mikmikyu]: i’m starting a rumor already
[cowpoke]: my chance with her is gone now
Gamer.ᐟgumi lets out a quiet sigh, annoyed at his chat for ratting him out. Still, he types back:
“Yeah, it’s fine. My viewers can help with your fundraiser too.”
Your reaction is immediate. You squeal, clapping your hands together, somehow looking even cuter than before.
He accepts the invite, and from that moment on, the games run far smoother than earlier. You can't help but notice his setup contrasts yours completely, dark, minimal, and gloomy against your soft, pastel space. The difference makes you giggle.
After each win, Megumi casually breaks down strategies and techniques, explaining things in a way that actually helps. You listen closely, grateful for every tip. During the longer queue times, sometimes stretching past ten minutes, you both drift into easier conversation, talking about favorite foods, shows, and whatever comes to mind.
Then a sudden crack of thunder makes you jump in your seat.
A second later, you hear it again, faint, but coming through his mic too.
Both your phones buzz at the same time with a weather alert warning of an incoming storm.
“You got that too?” he asks, unfazed as rain starts pouring on his end.
“Mhm,” you nod, before the realization hits. “Wait—oh my gosh… we must live close to each other! We could meet in person! I mean—um, if you’re okay with that.” You adjust in your chair, nervously twirling a strand of hair around your finger.
“Sure,” he replies simply. “I don’t mind.”
[moistpapaya]: GURL GO GET HIM
[alphadawg]: NOO HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE
[blingblingboy2]: I HOPE YOU GUYS FIND OUT Y’ALL RELATED
The chat instantly turns chaotic, messages flying as people realize their favorite streamers are basically planning a date.
“I’ll DM you,” he says. “There’s a café near me—we can meet there.”
You nod eagerly, a bright smile spreading across your face. “Okay! I can’t wait to meet you! Goodnight!” It’s way past midnight, but your energy doesn’t show it at all.
“Goodnight,” he replies before leaving the call, dropping you back into your now-exploding chat.
“He was nice, wasn’t he—” you gasp, “Why is everyone yelling?” you laugh, finally glancing over and realizing what’s going on. Half the chat is dramatic and heartbroken, the other half weirdly defensive. It’s overwhelming enough that you rush through your outro and end the stream early.
What you don’t realize is that Megumi was still watching with a small smile before finally logging off.
He texts you the next day around nine in the morning, A link to a café you already know, followed by: “I’ll be there at 12:30.”
You get ready, putting on a denim mini skirt that barely covers your panties, a brown oversize sweater hanging off your shoulders, exposing your bra strap and the top of your chest, white thigh highs with a lacey pattern on the top, and brown chunky uggs. You snap a quick picture and post it with a cheerful caption about meeting a new friend. Your phone starts blowing up almost immediately, but you barely pay it any mind as you head out.
When you walk into the café, you scan the room before checking his message again, booth 4.
You spot him and walk over, gently tapping his shoulder.
“Oh my goodness—you’re real! Hi!” you squeal.
He looks up at you, calm as ever. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
His height easily towering yours, and it throws you off for half a second.
Gamer.ᐟgumi looks down at you now, getting a perfect angle of your flushed face and your plump tits. His mind wandered to the feeling of them pressing around his cock. Your saliva lubricates his tip, staring into his eyes.
His thoughts get cut off by you hugging him.
“I just—I don’t usually meet online friends in person, so this is really exciting!” you admit, a little flustered. “And… I didn’t expect you to look this good.”
“Ouch,” he says dryly, though there’s a hint of amusement in his voice as he pulls you into a brief hug.
“I didn’t mean it like that!” you laugh, pulling back. “I mean—you’re really handsome. If you showed your face on stream, your channel would blow up.”
“I’ll think about it,” he replies, sitting back down, clearly trying to stay composed, as his cock throbs against his pants.
The date goes surprisingly well. To Megumi, you had initially been just a cute face and a beautiful body, but the flow of conversation shifts his mindset on you. Before the meet-up was over, he found himself genuinely falling for you. Shortly after, he took a leap and finally revealed his face on stream. While the change invited a surge of new viewers and plenty of disgusting attention, seeing the pure, radiant joy in your eyes when he appeared on your channel made every bit of newfound exposure worth it.
Gamer.ᐟgumi finally introduced you to Yuji after a few weeks. Not by his own free will, but by Yuji’s overbearing questions. The night was full of laughter, but it was on the screen where the real change showed.
He had always been a "diver" main, a lone wolf who thrived in the enemy’s shadows, focused solely on the kill. But after meeting you, his playstyle changed entirely. He became a "peeler," never straying more than a few feet from your character. He traded his aggressive streaks for a protective shield, essentially becoming your personal bodyguard in every match, ensuring that nothing could touch you.
The tension between you finally reaches its breaking point after a string of late-night gaming sessions and group hangouts. After a movie date—the very movie you’d mentioned excitedly on your last stream—he finally asked you to be his.
The change in him was immediate. During his stream the next day, the usually stoic gamer couldn’t stop smiling. He was constantly distracted mid-match, his eyes drifting off-camera towards his phone, buzzing with messages from you, his focus totally compromised. His fans weren't blind; the chat was already flooding with theories, catching on to the new, softer side of the man they thought they knew.
[spiderchud]: you look so happy boy! Tell us u dating her NOW
[realgeekr]: she’s beautiful. Better learn how to fight now.
[misstrawbunni]: such a cute couple!
Gamer.ᐟgumi always appears in your vlogs, the part of your channel where it wasn’t gameplay. You love dragging him along on shopping trips, spoiling him with gifts while he tries so hard to hide his blush. He would grumble about the attention, but in truth, he cherished every second of it. He lives in constant hope that the honeymoon phase would never end, anchored by the quiet realization that you were never planning on letting it fade, either.
Gamer.ᐟgumi loathes the way strangers fawn over you; every thirsty comment in the chat made him want to pull you out of the frame and hide you away from the world. You’d often tease him, calling him "possessive" when he’d pull you into a sudden hug or press a kiss to your temple mid-stream, but he’d sooner die than admit just how much you actually affected him.
Gamer.ᐟgumi community begs him to play Resident Evil: Village; he thought it would be a standard horror stream. Since you were staying the night, you naturally claim a spot in his lap to watch him play. It was, without a doubt, the worst decision he’d agreed to.
You couldn't seem to sit still. Every time you shift, your weight ground against his cock, making it nearly impossible for him to focus on the screen, let alone the enemies closing in.
“Ah! Baby, Watch out!” you chirp, clutching his arm.
"Shit... I know. You're distracting the hell out of me," Megumi growls, moving his thigh in a futile attempt to adjust you. "Just stop squirming."
"I'm sorry! But the monsters are so scary and— Gah!" You jumped, burying your face in your hands as a jump-scare flashed across the monitor, inadvertently pressing even closer against him.
[thunder_wart]: u keep dying?? me cookedddd when i get this
[a1eashona]: it should be me sitting in his lap
[goon4her]: die again so i can see her tits bounce
He died. Again. For the fifth time that night, the "You Are Dead" screen flashed across the monitor. It wasn't because his aim was off or his reflexes had slowed; it was because his girlfriend’s ass was practically grinding into him, your every flinch sending a fresh jolt of friction straight to his cock.
[bigjork69]: i was close fuckkk
[cut!e_patoot!e]: shes def annoying him I would neverrr
[ChaseTV]: keep your head up king! Don’t stop now!
Gamer.ᐟgumi let out a frustrated huff, slamming the pause button on the stream and muting his mic, cutting the feed to his thousands of viewers.
He could lose it just from the way you were looking at him, let alone the "pornographic" way you gasp at every jump-scare. He wants you so badly, but he wasn't about to ruin your pretty skirt with his sticky cream.
"Get up," he commands, his voice ragged and thick with suppress need. "Take off your underwear. Now."
"Are you done with the game, Gumi?" you ask softly, genuinely worried you’d ruined his progress as you slid down your panties. You’d been so focused on the screen that you hadn't even noticed the effect you were having on him.
"No," he groaned, shoving his pants and boxers down in one fluid motion. Exposing his long, thick cock, already slick at the tip. He hisses as he took himself in his hand, giving a single, desperate stroke. "Just... fuck. Just sit on me. Please."
You couldn't say no when he looks that undone. The idea of him continuing the stream while buries inside you made your knees grow weak.
As you slowly lower yourself onto him, a whimper escapes your throat. You hesitate, the stretch feeling like too much, until Megumi lost his patience. His hands tug onto your hips and he surges upward, seating himself to the hilt with a wet clap.
"Megumi! It's—it's too much!" you gasp, instinctively trying to arch away. He immediately pulled you back down, letting out a low, melodic moan that vibrated through your joined bodies.
"Please... just take it for me," he whispers against the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin.
"Mhm... but I don't know if I can stay still. Or quiet," you confess, your voice trembling as you felt him twitch deep inside you.
"It’s fine. I just need your warmth," he murmurs, pulling himself back toward the desk. With a flick of his wrist, he unmuted the mic and toggled the camera back on, his face instantly smoothing into his "gamer" persona.
"Alright, we're back," Megumi said to the chat, his voice remarkably steady despite the way his hands grips the controller. "She just needed a quick bathroom break."
[eggfarts]: Woah! Why is she so flushed??
[jimsleftsock]: Looks like she needs to go again.
[bratkiller]: She probably looks like that when she's riding me.
Gamer.ᐟgumi smirks as he glances at the scrolling chat. The viewers were clueless, and the secret knowledge that you were right where you belonged, impaled on him while he played, fueled his ego more than any donation ever could.
Gamer.ᐟgumi took the opportunity to bury his face in the crook of your neck whenever a monster jumped onto the screen. To the audience, it looked like a standard horror reaction; in reality, he was hiding his blown-out expression as his length pulsed deep inside your tight pussy. He caught your reflection in the desk mirror, watching you bite your bottom lip to stifle a moan, and it nearly undid him.
Gamer.ᐟgumi was far from relaxed, when the credits finally rolled after twenty minutes. Despite the victory, Megumi was still rock hard, and the way your walls squeezed around him made a low growl rattle in his chest. Without a word of goodbye to his fans, he reaches out and kills the stream, the monitors flickering into darkness.
The silence of the room was heavy with tension. He reached down, his hands sliding under your skirt to squeeze your hips with bruising force.
"You wanted to squirm and move this adorable ass on me all night, huh?" he rasped.
"Gumi, m’sorry! Everything was just so scary!" you whine, though the friction was making your head spin.
Gamer.ᐟgumi didn't answer with words. Instead, he hoisted you up, spinning you around so you were straddling him in the oversized gaming chair. The new position gave him a perfect view of your flushed face and the way your chest heaved, your breasts nearly spilling from your top.
Gamer.ᐟgumi curses under his breath, his eyes dark with hunger as he aligns himself. He didn't go back in immediately; instead, he teases the head of his cock against your entrance, listening to you whimper.
"Gumi..." you breathed, hands trembling on his shoulders. "Please, can I sit down?"
Gamer.ᐟgumi finally pushed back inside, and the sensation was so overwhelming you began to bounce instinctively. The lewd, desperate expression on your face almost push him over the edge, but after a night of unintentional teasing, he was determined to make this last.
His fingers work quickly, stripping your top and bra until you were bare for him, leaving you in your ruffled skirt and thigh highs. He captured your lips in a messy, demanding kiss, his tongue tangling with yours while his hands clamp onto your waist to control the rhythm. When you finally pull away, a thin string of saliva connected you, your breath hitching as the friction reach a fever pitch.
"M-Megumi, I'm close—"
Suddenly, he gripped your hips and slams you down, holding you still and effectively cutting off your high.
"ngh! Why did you stop?" you cry out, trying to grind against his thigh for relief.
Slap.
A sharp sting on your ass, followed by another. "You don't deserve to cum yet," Megumi growls, his fingers digging into your skin. "I wanted a normal stream, but you decided to grind this nice—"
Slap.
"—fucking—"
Slap.
"—ass on me for two hours."
"Ah! Please!" You grip the headrest, your back arching. "I'll be good! I promise!"
Gamer.ᐟgumi chuckles, the deep bass in his voice vibrating through you. He hooks his arms under your legs, taking full control of your weight as he drives you up and down his length.
"You'll be a good girl for me, yeah?" he groans, his composure finally breaking as he feels you tighten around him.
"Yes! Please, Gumi! Please let me..."
"Fuck—yeah," he whimpers, his head falling back. "Cum for me. Right now."
The orgasm was explosive, leaving you sobbing his name as you collapsed against his shoulder. A few minutes later, you tried to shift away, feeling his seed and your squirt between your thighs. "Gumi... I'm all sticky and grossss."
Gamer.ᐟgumi didn't let go. Instead, he trails hot kisses along your neck, pulling you back into his lap. "You feel too good," he mutters. "We're going again."
Pairing.ᐟ: Baseballplayer!Megumi Fushiguro x Shy!reader
Synopsis.ᐟ: You have a wet, vivid dream about Megumi and sneak out of his dorm in the middle of the night, only to be pushed by Nobara to act bolder on your date. After a chaotic evening that ends in a kiss, Megumi confronts you, misreading your lie as cheating, until you confess the truth, which shifts the focus into something more than just a fantasy.
Tags.ᐟ: college au, non curse au, piercings!megumi (snake bites, eyebrow, lobe, outer ear), smut with plot, cursing, teasing, lots of kissing, mutual yearning, dirty talk, praise, possessive!megumi, misunderstanding!megumi (quickly resolved), pussydrunk!megumi, slighty aggressive!megumi, top!megumi, sub!reader, afab!reader, inexperienced!reader, size difference-ish, masturbastion-ish, bodyworshipping (f!rec), nipple stim (f!rec), overstim, cunnilingus, squirt as lubricant, pussy slapping, clit stim, attempt blowjob, blowjob, cum eating/swallowing, reassurance with kissing, missionary, protected sex, aftercare, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: This is part two and my first smut so ntm on me!! I recommend reading the first part for more context on how you + Megumi met but it's honestly fine to read this one first.
WCᐟ: 10.9K (sorry for the long read!!)
⤷ Megumi plays ball.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part one!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
College life has unfolded around you. New faces, crowded lecture halls, the constant assignments stacking faster than you could finish them. Everything felt unfamiliar, unpredictable, and then…
There was Megumi.
You hadn’t expected your first boyfriend to be a nonchalant baseball player.
Megumi, in every sense of the word, was everything you could ever ask for.
He’s caring.
Calls or texts you whenever he can, just to hear from you.
Slipping off his hoodie or jacket without a second thought, draping it over you the moment you feel cold.
Carrying your bags without asking.
He’s thoughtful.
Notices you struggling to open something and comes over to help.
Remembering the small things you like.
Sharing his food when you’re interested in what he ordered.
He can be cute without even noticing it.
Smiling at you when you’re being yourself.
Writing your name absentmindedly on his assignments.
Entering your room after practice just to sit with you, to exist in the same space.
But then his actions make you feel hot and bothered.
Laughing, showing off his beautiful teeth.
Undressing while you’re in the room.
The way his hand would settle against your cheek or your thigh when kissing.
He was, without a doubt, the best boyfriend you could ever imagine.
Most of your dates were planned by him. Carefully thought out, down to the smallest detail. Being with him, you’d come to realize just how much of a perfectionist he was. He paid attention and learned from you. And every time, he made sure you felt happy.
Although, you couldn’t help but crave something a little more…
Intimate.
After a long day buried in textbooks and scribbled notes, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. All you wanted was to be near Megumi.
You knock softly on his door, tapping out the familiar rhythm of a song you both loved.
“It’s open,” his voice comes from inside.
You step in, immediately noticing the neatly folded pajama pants and a black sweater laid out on his cozy duvet.
Aww it's the Badtz-maru pajama pants I got him for Christmas.
A small smile tugs at your lips.
Is he planning on wearing them tonight?? He's so cute!
The sound of the shower running fills the room, leaving a cool chill in its wake. You rub your arms, fingers brushing over the oversized jersey you borrowed from him, the temperature making you shiver.
“Sorry I couldn’t make it to your practice,” you call out, settling onto the edge of his bed beside the carefully placed clothes. “Professor Higuruma gave us this brutal project, so I had to ask Kamo for help.”
A brief pause.
“You went to Kamo?” Megumi says from the bathroom, a hint of jealousy beneath his tone. “You should've just come to me.”
“I couldn’t do that,” you reply quickly, shaking your head even though he can’t see you. “You had your own things going on. I didn’t want you dropping everything just to help me.”
The shower cuts off.
You straighten slightly, heart giving a small, anticipatory beat as the bathroom door opens.
“I would drop everything for you.”
Megumi steps out, a towel slung low around his waist, his damp hair falling over his eyes. Droplets of water trace paths down his muscular frame.
Your gaze dips instantly, heat rushing to your cheeks.
You’ve seen him like this before… So why does it still feel like this?
“You’re too sweet to me, Gumi,” you murmur, fidgeting with your fingers, your voice softer than before.
Megumi walks over to you, his steps quiet. His fingers brush gently against your face, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, guiding your gaze up to meet his.
“Come to me when you need help,” he says lowly.
His hand lingers, sliding from your hair to rest against your cheek. The touch of his palm makes you instinctively lean into it, your breath catching just a little.
“Mhm,” you nod, feeling the flusterness hit your ears.
“Good.” A small, satisfied smile curves on his lips.
Seriously Gumi. Why do you have to look at me like that?
“Remember that restaurant we saw by the beach?” he asks.
Before you can answer, his towel drops, and he steps into his boxers, casually picking the towel back up to hang it in the bathroom. Your eyes dart to his hygiene products.
“Yeah! Why?” you ask, handing him the deodorant from the nightstand.
He takes it with a nod, applying it before pulling his sweater over his head, straightening it to sit properly on him. He glances at you.
“You liked how it looked,” he says simply. “So I made reservations. Tomorrow at six.”
He ties the strings of his pants, like what he just said wasn’t enough to make your heart stumble.
“Gumi, that place looked expensive… you didn’t have to—”
Your words are cut off as his hands come up to cradle your face, warm and smooth, pulling you into a kiss.
It’s deeper than you expect. It's consuming you. The kind that steals your breath and your thoughts all at once. You fall back against the bed without realizing it, he leans over you, one hand still holding you by the cheek.
When he finally pulls back, your lips barely part before he speaks.
“Stop worrying.”
His voice is softer now as his lips brushing along your jaw, then lower, trailing warmth against your skin.
“I want to spoil you.”
You gasp softly as his hands slip beneath your oversized shirt, fingertips brushing along the sides of your stomach before settling there.
“Gumi…” his name leaves your lips in a quiet, breathy sound.
He presses light kisses along your neck, before pulling back just enough to look at you.
“Hm?” he whispers, gaze dropping to yours with his green, hooded eyes, like he’s completely lost in you.
Come on, say something! Why does he have to look at me like that?!
“What are you wearing tomorrow… for our reservation?” you blurt out.
There was a shift in the air.
Megumi rolls onto his side, reaching for his phone on the nightstand, his expression easing back into something more composed.
“The place has good ratings,” he says, glancing at the screen. “So… something comfortable, but still appropriate.”
I’m such an idiot. Why did I ask what he’s wearing to the restaurant?
The thought settles heavy in your chest as you move closer, resting your head against him. His heartbeat is a little faster than usual.
His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you in securely against him.
“Knowing you,” you say softly, tracing small patterns against his sweater, “we’re going to walk on the beach after, right?”
His chest rises with a soft chuckle.
“Yeah,” he says, fingers slipping into your hair, gently smoothing it back. “There’s supposed to be a full moon.”
He pauses, thumb brushing lightly against your scalp.
“And I want to take more pictures of you.”
“Gumi… you already have enough,” you mumble, hiding your face deeper into his chest.
“I’ll never have enough of you,” Megumi replies, looking down at you with a small, genuine smile.
“Stop being so cute,” you protest, lightly hitting his chest.
“I’m not being cute,” he says, calm as ever. “Just addressing how I feel about my girlfriend.”
“Whatever,” you pout, though your voice softens. “Nobara wants to go shopping in the morning.”
“Of course,” he states, rolling his eyes slightly, already sounding less than thrilled that your time with him would be taken away.
“I’ll find something cute for your little photo collection,” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’d like that, huh?”
You tilt your head, lashes fluttering in a playful manner, making Megumi falter.
“Shut up,” he mutters, turning his face, but not before you feel his heartbeat pick up beneath your hand, giving him away.
The night settles into something easy after that. You talk about classes, baseball practice, nothing and everything, words blending together until they fade into silence. At some point, without either of you noticing, you drift off, wrapped up in each other, his arm secure around you. But even as the room falls still, your mind doesn’t.
Your mind keeps circling back to him.
Megumi.
To the warmth of his hands earlier… the way they rested just underneath your shirt. The way they could’ve moved higher, slower, more certain. The thought alone sends a heat through you, making your breath hitch.
His fingers brush faintly against your side, no longer hesitant. Megumi hovers closer to your face, his gaze dark and focused as he pulls your shirt over your head, discarding it until there’s nothing left between his eyes and your skin.
He leans down, his kisses trailing a path of fire down your stomach. When his teeth graze the sensitive point of your breast, a erotic whimper breaks from your throat, his name a plea on your tongue.
His hands travel lower, hooking into the waistband of your shorts and pulling them away with your underwear in one fluid motion, tossing them into the shadows of the floor. Megumi slides toward the foot of the bed, his rough palms wrapping firmly around your thighs. With a sudden, commanding tug, he pulls you down the mattress until you’re flush against him, his face inches from your cunt.
“And you just left? At three in the morning? Because you were embarrassed?” Nobara says, punctuating the question with a loud, unapologetic slurp of her lemonade. She’s leaning in, every bit of her attention locked onto you, clearly infested in your story.
You wince, your cheeks still burning from the dream. Megumi was right beside you, sleeping, peacefully. The waking realization had been a jolt to your system; you’d scrambled out of his bed, pressing a peck to his forehead before bolting into the hallway.
Back in your own room, the shower had felt less like a necessity and more like a cleansing. You’d scrubbed at your skin, trying to wash away the lingering ghost of the excitement that still beamed at your skin, leaving you restless.
Now, hours later, walking the mall with Nobara, the cool air does nothing to soothe your racing pulse.
“Yes! Nobara, it felt too real!” you hiss, pressing cold palms to your flushed face. “I don’t want to have dreams like that when he’s… I don't even know if he’s like that.”
“How do you even know? You two have been together for what? Seven months?” Nobara takes another noisy pull from her drink.
“Eight months and six days,” you mutter, the specificity of the count betraying just how much space he takes up in your head.
“And you two haven’t fucked?” She states, her voice loud enough to make a passing shopper turn.
You gently slap her arm. “Nobara! Keep your voice down!”
She just tilts her head, entirely unbothered. “Why? Are you a virgin or something?”
Nobara, you’re killing me here!
You nod, confirming her suspicion.
“Figures,” she says, the word landing with a casual, brutal honesty as she walks into a clothing store.
You follow her, the bell above the door chiming, and you can’t help the insecurity that pricks at you. “Do I really scream ‘virgin’?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. “Is it really that obvious?”
Nobara unexpectedly holds a flowery maxi dress up against your body. She squinting at the fabric, then at you, making you freeze in place.
“You practically exude virgin energy,” she says flatly, hanging the dress back on the rack and reaching for another. “It’s like a scent.”
“Gosh, do you think… Do you think he knows?” your voice cracking slightly. You’re hopefully wishing for her to tell you that you look experienced, but the look she gives you says otherwise.
“When he talked to Yuji about it, he didn’t seem to care,” Nobara remarks, already drifting toward the shoe department with a purposeful stride.
“What?!” You step quickly after her, darting around a mannequin that blocks your path to her. “He talks to Yuji about—about that?!”
“No, girl.” She waves a dismissive finger, her eyes rolling so hard they might disappear. “Yuji was the one being a brat. He wanted to know if ‘his homeboy finally got some action.’” She mimics Yuji’s boisterous tone perfectly, making you want to shrink into the floor.
“W-what did Megumi say?” you ask, your voice small, your heart hammering against your ribs.
Nobara stops. She turns to you, her expression shifting. She adjusts her posture, narrowing her eyes into a dull, stoic gaze that is hauntingly accurate to Megumi’s. “Fushiguro just looked at him like he was an idiot and said, ‘From the way she kisses me with such gentle care... seeing her like that is not necessary.’”
Your heart does a painful somersault.
Megumi... Why did he have to be so incredibly sweet while I'm busy being a total pervert!?
The guilt and the affection swirl together, making your cheeks feel like they’re literally on fire.
“He... he said that?”
Nobara nods, her playful mockery fading into a dry, analytical stare. “Which means he’s being a gentleman. Which also means,” she adds, her tone going flat and practical, “if you want him to fuck you, you’re going to have to be the one to initiate it.”
You feel a surge of sudden determination. You reach out, grabbing Nobara’s hand and cradling it between yours like a lifeline. “Nobara,” you breathe, your eyes wide. “Teach me. Teach me your ways.”
A slow, wicked smirk spreads across her face. “Now we’re getting somewhere. My methods? They’ll have that V-card gone by tonight.”
You gasp, the air catching in your throat.
Tonight?
The word echoes in your mind, followed immediately by a mental checklist.
I need a full ‘everything’ shower. I need to exfoliate. I need... oh god, what if he says no? What if I trip and fall?
Nobara’s fingers snap sharply in front of your nose, breaking the spiral.
“Hey! Stop looking like a lost puppy.”
She hooks her arm through yours, her grip firm, dragging you toward the back of the store. “Focus. We’re going to the swimwear aisle,” she declares, loud enough to turn heads. “You’re ready to handle this, okay? You're ready to take that dick.”
“Nobara! Please! Stop saying things like that out loud!” you squeal, burying your face in your free hand.
“What?” Nobara stops abruptly, her hand hovering over a rack of vibrant fabric. She turns to you, her eyes narrowed with curiosity.
“Is he… big or something? Is that why you’re acting like this?”
“I-I don’t know.” Your eyes gaze away, suddenly finding the fluorescent lights of the mall deeply fascinating. “I don’t look.”
“Sweetheart. Are you for real right now?” She stares at you, genuine shock momentarily breaking through her smug exterior. “Doesn’t he change while you’re in the room?”
You pathetically nod.
“Listen, I feel like it’s wrong to stare,” you explain, the words tumbling out in a defensive rush. “He’s comfortable with me. He trusts me to be in his space, and I don’t want to ruin that by being weird and—”
“Stop. Stop with the excuses,” Nobara cuts you off, waving a hand as if to swat your logic out of the air. “He is your boyfriend, for crying out loud. You have the right to look.” She shakes her head, her expression one of pure, unadulterated disapproval.
“I suppose,” you murmur, looking down at your shoes. A heavy, familiar blanket of guilt settles over your shoulders. You feel like a child being scolded for failing a test you didn't even know you were taking.
“You’re so hopeless,” Nobara sighs, though there’s a flicker of excitement in her eyes as she plucks a bikini from the rack. It’s a sunset gradient, shimmering orange and pink, with tiny bows perched on the hips. “This. This will work. Now, we just need a cover-up to build the suspense.”
“Nobara,” you say, pointing a trembling finger at the scraps of fabric in her hand. “That… that doesn’t look like it would cover anything.”
“That is literally the point,” she says, rolling her eyes so hard you’re surprised they don't get stuck. “‘Ms. I Don't Look At My Boyfriend's Cock When It's Presented To Me On A Silver Platter.’”
She isn’t going to let this go. You can already tell this is going to be a recurring theme in her teasing for the next three years.
You let out a long, defeated sigh. “I get it. I’m a total idiot for not being a voyeur in my own relationship.”
Nobara scoffs, already marching back toward the dresses. She snatches a long, black mesh cover-up with a leg slit that starts near the upper thigh.
“Well,” Nobara says, a sinister smirk stretching across her lips. “Tonight, you won’t just be looking.”
The walk back to the dorms is a blur of Nobara’s voice ringing in your ears like a drill sergeant. You find yourself mentally reciting her "Commandments of Seduction" as if you're prepping for a final exam.
Show more skin. Touch him when he isn't expecting it. When you kiss him, do it with greed.
You feel ridiculous. It feels impossible.
This is so stupid. I’m going to trip, or say something weird, or he’s going to look at me like I’ve lost my mind. I’m going to make a total fool of myself in front of the one person I want to impress.
A sudden buzz in your pocket makes you jump, the vibration rattling against your hip. You fumble for your phone while kicking your dorm room door open, balancing your shopping bags against your knee.
It’s Megumi. Even just seeing his name on the screen, makes that tight knot in your stomach loosen, just for a second.
(Gumi! ♥︎): How was shopping?
(You): It was really good! I bought something out of my comfort zone.
(Gumi! ♥︎): Did Kugisaki peer-pressure you into something ridiculous?
You huff a laugh, sending back a sticker of a chubby white cat shaking its head.
(Gumi! ♥︎): That’s good. I’ll head over to your dorm after I finish with training.
You "heart" the message, your thumb hovering over the screen.
(Gumi! ♥︎): Can I at least see what you got beforehand?
(You): Nope! It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait.
To soften the blow, you attach a picture of a golden retriever winking cheekily.
(Gumi! ♥︎): Fine. Love you, cold-hearted girl.
You giggle at his reference to the song “Go Away” by Weezer and Best Coast.
(You): I loveee you too, stupid boy!
As you toss your bags onto your desk chair and turn toward your bed, something catches the light. Resting right in the center of your pillow is a small, beaded bracelet. You pick it up, the cool glass beads smooth against your fingers. It’s a simple, thoughtful pattern, alternating beads the exact shade of your eyes and Megumi’s forest green ones.
Your heart performs a little flutter. You snap a quick photo of it, your face slightly heating up.
(You): I just found it! Thank you so much, it’s beautiful!!
(Gumi! ♥︎): It’s nothing. Don’t mention it.
Typical Megumi. You send a cat sticker kissing the screen.
It’s time.
The "everything" shower is a steam and expensive smelling hibiscus scrub. As you get ready, your mind is a chaotic loop of Megumi, the way his hair feels between your fingers, the low vibration of his voice, and the way he looks at you.
Finally, you stand before the full-length mirror, putting on the finishing touches. The black mesh cover-up clings to your curves, the sunset-colored bikini peeking through. You look like someone who knows exactly what they’re doing, even if your hands are shaking as you adjust the strap.
You got this. Just be natural. Nobara said be forward. Easy. Simple.
You let out a long, dramatic sigh, dropping your head back.
But I’m not forward! Especially not about… that!
You groan internally, a wave of affection hitting you.
Megumi, why do you have to be such a gentleman? Why can’t you just make the first move and save me from myself?
You reach down, fidgeting with the new bracelet on your wrist, the beads clicking softly together, calming your nerves, at least until a sound at the door makes your heart stop.
It’s the specific beat of your favorite song, signaling that he’s here.
“One moment!” you call out.
Footsteps are heard from outside of your dorm room.
You hear his footsteps shift outside, a soft scuffle of sneakers against the carpet. Taking a final, steadying breath, you grab your purse, give your reflection one last panicked nod, and swing the door open.
“Hi, Gumi,” you say, forcing a sweet smile.
He’s dressed simply, but on him, it’s alluring. A soft grey sweater that clings to his broad shoulders, crisp black slacks, and navy blue sneakers. The black of his usual jewelry and piercings catches the hallway light, giving him that effortless, edgy grace he wears so well.
Honestly, is it even legal to look that good? you wonder, your throat going dry.
“Hey.” Megumi doesn't just look at you; he observes you, his gaze traveling unapologetically from the hem of your dark dress up to your eyes. “You look gorgeous.”
“T-thank you,” you mumble, the heat rising to your ears as you instinctively look away. “You... you look really handsome.”
He lets out a light, breathy chuckle, a sound that always makes your knees feel like jelly. He reaches out, taking your hand in his, and presses a small kiss to your knuckles. It’s a classic Megumi move, a small ritual he performs every date, and yet it still makes you swoon as if it were the first time.
“Let’s go,” he says softly, his fingers interlacing with yours as he leads you outside to his sleek black Mustang.
He holds the car door open for you, waiting until you’re settled before closing it with a solid thud. As he climbs into the driver's seat and the engine roars to life.
The drive is pleasant, the usual comfortable back-and-forth about his baseball training and how the week has treated you, but your mind is miles away from the conversation.
Nobara said car sex is a classic for a reason, a voice in your head whispers. Now that you’re actually sitting in the plush, low-lit interior of his car, the thought is intoxicating. Would he even agree to that? No, no, don't be crazy. But goodness, he looks so good right now. I can almost imagine it. Him taking me in the backseat, and—
“You’re making that face again,” Megumi’s voice cuts through the fog of your fantasy.
“W-what face?” you squeak. You try to fix your gaze on the dashboard, fighting the urge to let your eyes wander down to his lap, exactly where Nobara told you to look.
“The face you make when you’re overthinking,” he says.
The car engine begins to go quiet, turning into a parking lot nestled perfectly between the beach waves and the warm glow of the restaurant. He shifts the car into park but doesn't move to get out. Instead, he turns in his seat to face you.
“But you’re squirming more,” he notes, his head tilting slightly. “Care to enlighten me on something?”
“It’s nothing! I’m just... really hungry!” you squeal, the lie sounding fake even to your own ears. You’re visibly mortified that he caught you mid-spiral.
“Okay,” he says, with a genuine laugh huffing from his chest as he kills the engine. “We’re here, so you don't have to yearn for it much longer.”
I’m yearning, alright, but it’s definitely not for the appetizers, Megumi.
He steps out of the car and circles around to your side. When he opens your door and offers his hand. You take it with a shy murmur of thanks, feeling the contrast of his cool skin against your heated palms.
As you stand, he slides an arm around your waist, pulling you just a fraction closer. The sudden contact makes you gasp softly, the scent of his husky cologne enveloping you completely.
“They’re supposed to have a live performance tonight,” Megumi says, guiding you toward the grand entrance of the restaurant. His hand stays on your waist, a possessive, grounding touch. “I have a feeling you’re going to love it.”
“I will! I can already tell!” you reply, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. You’re desperate to drown out the echoes of Nobara’s voice and the vivid images of his backseat that are still dancing behind your eyelids.
Megumi smiles as he leads you inside, and the interior is breathtaking. Thousands of delicate fairy lights are draped across the ceiling, reflecting off the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a scenic view of the sea. In the center of the room, a small, unlit, stage.
He speaks to the host, and then takes your hand, leading you to a semi-private booth with a perfect view of the platform.
As you set your purse down and slide onto the seat, Megumi reaches for a menu. That’s when you see it, peeking out from beneath the cuff of his grey sweater.
The same bracelet you have on your wrist.
“Aw! Gumi! We’re matching!” You beam, holding your arm up.
He glances down at his own wrist. “Yeah. We are.” He meets your eyes, his expression softening into something so tender it almost hurts to look at. “I had a feeling you’d find it cute.”
Suddenly, Nobara’s voice flashes through your mind like a neon sign: Get touchy with him. Don’t be afraid of your own boyfriend.
The table feels like a mile-long barrier between you. You look at his strong hand resting on the table.
Your hand slides across the tablecloth landing over his. He doesn't pull away; instead, he lets out an accepting hum.
“You know me too well, Gumi,” you say, your voice softening as you offer him a small smile.
“How could I not?” he asks, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Especially when you show such painfully obvious signs of interest.”
You look away, bashfully, but Nobara’s voice is screaming in your head to keep going. Painfully obvious? I’ll show him obvious.
Swallowing down your anxious feelings, you slip your foot out to drag it up his leg, the fabric of his slacks a rough contrast against your sandal toes. You move higher, drawing dangerously close to his crotch.
Megumi’s smirk vanishes, replaced by a sharp, choked-off groan. His fingers tighten around yours almost painfully. But before he can utter a word, a shadow falls over the table. You jerk your foot back as if you’ve been burned, your heart leaping into your throat as a waitress appears beside the booth.
“Megumi,” she says, her voice bright and teasing. “Is this her?”
You look up, your face surely showing panic.
“Yes, Tsumiki. It is,” Megumi says, his voice remarkably calm, though you notice he hasn't quite caught his breath yet.
Tsumiki? As in, Megumi’s sister?
Your brain short-circuits. You were just inches away from a scandalous move, and his sister had been standing right there.
I feel like a total creep!!
“I’ve heard such great things about you,” Tsumiki says, leaning in with a genuine smile. You try to hide behind your menu, peeping over the top of it with wide eyes. “Thank you for dating my grumpy brother. He greatly needs someone as delightful as you to balance him out.”
Megumi scoffs, his gaze dropping back to his menu in a classic display of Fushiguro moodiness. The sight of him being teased by his sister is so endearing that your nerves finally settle into a giggle.
“You’re just as sweet as he is,” you tell her, finding your courage. “I’m really, really grateful to be with him.”
As the words leave your mouth, you steal a glance at Megumi. He’s already looking at you, a soft, unmistakable smile playing on his lips, the kind of look he only saves for you.
Tsumiki beams, then turns her attention back to Megumi. “I’m guessing you want the usual, hm?”
Megumi offers a short, decisive nod, handing his menu back to Tsumiki with a familiarity that tells you he’s done this a thousand times.
“Anything catching your eye?” Tsumiki asks, her voice bright as she turns her attention to you.
Your brain feels like it’s trapped in smoke. Between the shock of seeing her and the mental list of Nobara’s "seduction rules" currently looping in your head, the text on the menu has become a meaningless jumble of letters.
Your heart is still thumping against your ribs from your failed "bold move" under the table.
“Um...” You scan the page unthinkingly, your eyes landing on the first thing that looks recognizable. “I’ll just do the number four. And pineapple juice, please.”
You hand the menu to her with a slightly shaky hand, offering a shy smile that you hope doesn't look as nervous as you feel.
“Coming right up!” Tsumiki says with a wink before spinning on her heel and heading toward the kitchen.
The moment she’s out of range, you lean across the table, your voice in a hushed blabber. “Megumi! You didn’t tell me your sister worked here! I probably look so stupid! Did I look weird? I feel like I have ‘clueless’ written across my forehead!”
Megumi lets out a soft, amused huff, rolling his eyes. “Please. You’re not an idiot." he says, his voice dropping into something soothing. His fingers give you a reassuring squeeze around your hand. “She already loves you. Besides, you never asked where she worked, so I didn’t see the need to give you an itinerary.”
You spend the next few minutes peppered with curiosity, asking him small questions about Tsumiki until she returns, balancing two steaming, fragrant plates.
“Enjoy, you two!” she chirps. You both offer a chorus of thanks as the rich aroma of the food fills the space between you.
You carefully smooth the linen napkin over your lap, trying to focus on your meal, but your eyes keep betraying you. Megumi’s plate looks and smells intoxicatingly good. You find yourself staring at his portion with a look of pure, undisguised interest.
Megumi doesn’t say a word. He just spears a perfect, steaming morsel with his fork and turns it toward you.
“Hm?” you blink up at him in confusion.
“Try it,” he says, his voice even. He moves the fork closer to your lips, his eyes lock onto yours, watching your reaction with an intensity that makes your breath catch. “I think you’ll like it.”
Why do you have to be so thoughtful? You’re making it impossible for me to be 'freaky' when you’re being this perfect.
You lean in and take the fork between your lips, the flavors exploding on your tongue. It’s delicious, rich and savory.
“Yummy!” you exclaim, instinctively hovering a hand over your mouth as you finish the bite. “That’s amazing. I’m definitely ordering that next time.”
Megumi just gives you a small, satisfied smile and a nod, returning to his meal.
Then, your brain betrays you. Nobara’s voice echoes in your head like a relentless mantra: Touch him more. Be bold. Be direct with your actions.
Gulping down a sip of juice to ease your worries, you slip your foot back out. You find his leg under the table, feet sliding against his slacks.
Megumi nearly chokes on a bite of his food, his shoulders tensing instantly.
“What are you—” he starts, his voice strained, but he’s cut off as the restaurant lights suddenly plunge into a moody dimness.
The shift in atmosphere pulls both of your attention toward the stage, where an announcer is introducing the live band. With a frustrated sigh, you involuntarily pull your leg away.
Why does everything keep interrupting me? I’m trying so hard to be 'forward,' but God is saying “no.”
As the music starts, the performance is so captivating that your internal panic finally begins to fade away. You find yourself actually relaxing, leaning into the melody and simply enjoying Megumi’s presence in front of you. For a moment, the "seduction mission" takes a backseat to the genuine magic of the date.
Tsumiki returns to the table to drop off the bill. Megumi handles it with efficiency, paying the total in full before you can even reach for your purse. You try to catch a glimpse of the price on the receipt, fear across your face, at the thought of a terrifying total, but he folds the paper with a flick of his wrist and tucks it deep into his pocket.
“Gumi, how much was it?” you ask, your tone bordering on a frantic whisper.
“Cheap,” he says shortly, though the faint smirk on his face suggests otherwise. He slides out of the booth and stands, offering his hand to help you up. “Now, let’s go walk off all that food.”
“If you say so, Gumi,” you murmur, following him out into the cool evening air.
The parking lot is quiet, the salty scent of the ocean much stronger now. When you reach the Mustang, he presses a button on his key fob, and the trunk pops open with a soft thud.
“Mhm,” Megumi hums absently. Right there in the shadows of the car, he starts to shed his clothes. He pulls the grey sweater over his head, revealing the muscle of his torso before he’s just in his swim shorts he had on underneath his slacks. He throws his clothes and shoes into the trunk, sliding into a pair of black flip-flops.
Take a glance. Just one glance, Nobara’s voice prompts in your mind. Don’t be a coward. Look at him.
You steal a look, but the moment your eyes drift toward his v-line, your heart hammers against your ribs so hard you have to look away. You start to peel off your black cover-up dress, your hands shaking slightly as you reveal the sunset-gradient bikini.
I can’t do it! I’m such a wuss! you scream internally, feeling exposed in the moonlight.
“Wow.”
The word is quiet. You look up to find Megumi standing there, a digital camera hanging from a strap around his neck. His eyes are scanning you, trailing over the bright colors of the suit and the skin you’d kept hidden all night.
“You’re… showing a lot of skin,” he says, his voice dropping an octave, sounding both surprised and deeply, undeniably affected.
“I-is that bad?” you whisper, the question barely escaping as you tuck your dress safely into the corner of the trunk. Your fingers brush against two fluffy beach towels stored further back, and you grab them, needing something to hold onto.
“No.” He says. He takes the towels from you and tucks them effortlessly under his arm, never breaking his gaze. He looks you up and down again this time, it’s not a quick glance, but an appreciative sweep that makes your skin prickle. “I’m definitely going to be taking a lot of pictures.”
You instinctively bring your hands up to cover your flaming face, a helpless laugh escaping you. “Gumi!”
“Don’t hide your face,” he says, his voice dropping to something calming. He closes the trunk with his free hand, and a small, genuine smile breaks across his stoic features. “That’s the best part.”
Peering behind your fingers, you see his pretty face.
Stop with your silly words!
“Come on,” he urges softly, holding out his hand. His grip is warm and comforting against your cold, nervous fingers. “The moonlight won’t last forever.”
He gently pulls you toward the sandy path that leads to the beach. This is a tradition you two had even before you started dating. Walking together in the moonlight always brings a flood of perfect, easy memories, and he always ends up capturing the best, most unguarded photos of you. The thought helps the rest of your anxiety melt away.
“Don’t move.” Megumi says, making you stop in your tracks.
“Another picture?”
“Yeah.”
He drops the towels onto the beach and stands back to take a picture.
“The moon is at the perfect angle.” He says taking a picture. “It's making you glow.”
Growing positive by his words, you strike a quick, playful pose that makes him crack another beautiful smile.
“Perfect. You look amazing,” he says, taking another shot.
A rush of pure, intense heat floods your cheeks and ears. Ah! Don’t say stuff like that, Gumi! You’re making it impossible to be ‘bold’!
“Okay.” He walks back up to you. Before you can react, he snakes his free hand around the small of your back, pulling you against his side. The sudden closeness steals your breath. “Smile.”
He angles the camera high above his head with his other arm, ready to take a quick couple’s selfie.
And then, it flashes in your mind. Nobara’s voice, relentlessly nagging at you: Kiss him with more intensity. Take what’s yours.
Your heart rate quickens, but this time, you cup his cheek with your palm, gently but firmly turning his face toward yours. In that split second, you capture his lips.
The camera flashes, the sudden burst of light startling him, but he immediately pulls the camera down to let it rest around his neck. His full, unwavering focus shifts entirely to you.
His hands wrap around your back, pulling you flush against him, and in his haste.
He pulls back just an inch, his eyes longing and searching. “You have been... incredibly bold today.”
“S-sorry,” you stutter out, the reality of what you just did hitting you. Your confidence evaporates instantly. “I... I just really wanted to kiss you.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says quickly, cutting off your retreat. He tightens his grip on your waist, pulling your body even closer until there’s not a trace of space between you. His voice, balanced and devastatingly sincere. “I’m your boyfriend. You have the right to kiss me whenever you want.”
You offer a small nod, your heart still erratic from the kiss.
“It’s getting late,” Megumi says, his voice a bit more strained than usual as he bends down to retrieve the sand-dusted towels. “We should probably head back.”
Your stomach drops.
Did I ruin it? Did I push too hard? A wave of defeat washes over you. I should just give up. He clearly doesn't see me that way, and I don't want to force something that isn't—
“Can you spend the night in my dorm?” Megumi asks, stopping your thoughts from furthering deeper. He isn't looking at you, but his words cover with emotion you can't quite place. “I want to wake up with you next to me.”
Your heart skips. Wait. Is this it? Is this the chance?
“Mhm! I’d love to,” you manage to say, trying to sound casual. “And sorry about this morning. Nobara was… insistent about leaving early.”
He just nods, and begins the walk back to the car. You follow behind, your mind already racing to plan your next move.
The drive back to the university is suffocatingly quiet. Only the radio acting as white noise. It isn’t the comfortable, companionable silence you usually share; it’s heavy and drizzled with thin air. Why is he so quiet? Did I say something wrong?
You steal glances at him, his unreadable features set as he stares at the road ahead.
He pulls into the dormitory lot and reverses into a spot with a sharp, aggressive precision. Before you can even get a word out to ask if he’s okay, he’s already out of the car. He marches to your side, yanking the door open and offering a hand that feels tense as he pulls you out.
He doesn't wait for a "thank you." Instead, he keeps a firm grip on your hand and begins leading you toward the building at a frantic pace.
“Megumi! Slow down!” you gasp, your sandals clicking rapidly against the pavement as you try to keep up with his long, fast strides.
He doesn't answer. He reaches his door and fumbles with his keys, his movements uncharacteristically rushed, needing both hands to get the lock to turn.
“Megumi, honey, what’s wrong?”
He lets out a heavy, ragged exhale through his nose, the sound of someone trying very hard to keep their composure, and walks into the room. You follow, locking the door, taking off your shoes.
Megumi takes a few steps toward his desk, setting his camera down.
“Are you seeing someone else?” he asks. He stays perfectly still, his muscular back turned toward you.
“What?” The question is so absurd it leaves you breathless.
Megumi spins around, his eyes burning with a mixture of hurt and fierce possessivity. He closes the distance between you, his presence so overwhelming that you instinctively back up until your shoulders hit the cold, hard surface of the door.
“Are you…” He slams his hands onto the door on either side of your head, not to hurt you, but with a kind of aggression that traps you between his arms. “...seeing someone else?”
“N-no! Megumi, no!” you stammer, your eyes wide as you look up at him.
The only time you saw him so angry was at playoffs, yelling at his teammates for minor mistakes. But never at you.
Your hands waving, frighteningly, trying to dismiss his question. “Why would you even think that?”
“You lied to me on the beach,” Megumi says, his voice vibrating with a tension you can’t escape. “You left my room at three in the morning, and I highly doubt Kugisaki is ever awake at that hour. I want the truth. I want to know the real reason you ran away.”
“I—”
Forcing the words out as you avert your gaze, unable to look him in the eye. “I had a wet dream… about you.”
Megumi’s hands drop from the door, his posture momentarily faltering. “What?”
“Yes! I left because I was mortified,” you say, the confession tumbling out in a shameful rush. You look down at your feet, your face burning. “In the dream, you were… you were pleasuring me. It felt wrong to wake up and see you sleeping right beside me, so peaceful and completely unaware of the things I was thinking about you.”
“That explains the noises, then,” he says.
Your eyes snap up, widening in pure horror. “N-noises?”
“I probably would have stayed asleep,” he continues, “if you hadn’t been moaning in your sleep.”
A sharp gasp escapes you. You feel like you might actually melt into the floor. “Gosh! Megumi, I’m so sorry—I didn't mean to—”
“Don’t be sorry.” He steps back into your personal space, closing the gap until you can feel the heat radiating off his chest. “After you bolted out the door, I had to stroke myself.. Imagining that I was the one actually making those sounds come out of you. I guess I don’t have to imagine it anymore.”
A smirk appears on his lips.
“Megumi, I…” You trail off, your mind spinning with new information. You weren't expecting Megumi to do such a thing, especially to your voice alone.
“Is that why you were teasing me at dinner?” he asks. His hand travels down, his fingers catching the bow string that hangs from your bikini bottom and giving it a deliberate tug.
“Mhm,” you breathe, finally meeting his gaze. The honesty feels electric. “Nobara gave me some… advice. She told me ways to make you want me. In that way.”
“Tch.” He lets out a dry, mocking scoff. “Don't take her advice. You don't need games for this. I would have fucked you months ago if you had just asked.”
“What?! R-really?” The bluntness of his words leaves you reeling.
“Yes.” He leans in closer, his thumb grazing the skin just above the waistband of your bikini. “I’m never going to say ‘no’ to you.”
“Gumi… I-I had no idea you’d be okay with any of that.”
“You never asked,” he says softly, a small, knowing smile playing on his lips. “And apparently, I know how to control myself a lot better than you do.”
“Hey! I can control myself!” you protest, though the way your heart is racing makes it a blatant lie.
He lets out an amused hum as he leans down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Is that so?”
His kisses turn wet and tantalizing, his mouth opening against your skin. “Tell me about that dream,” he murmurs against the nape of your neck, making your head tilt up, giving him access. “Tell me exactly what I was doing to you.”
“Mm... Gumi! That’s... embarrassing.” You gasp the words out, your voice sounding weak.
“Tell me.” He doesn't just ask; he demands it, his voice vibrating against your skin. His hands slip down, gripping the back of your thighs with a possessive strength as he lifts you effortlessly against him, never breaking the trail of hot kisses he's burning into your neck.
You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist for support, burying your face in his shoulder as he carries you over to the bed. When your back softly hits the mattress, the shift from his arms to the soft sheets is jarring, but he’s immediately over you, trapping you with his body.
“S-so... you were touching me, and... Gumi!” You let out a sharp, choked gasp as you feel his teeth glaze over your collarbone.
“Where?” He stops, pulling back just an inch. His voice is formidable rather than asking, his eyes fixated on yours.
“My... my boobs...” you whisper, the admission making your face burn. “And you were—Ah!” You squeal as Megumi’s hands instantly find your chest. His large palms cup you through the thin fabric of your bikini, his thumbs already circling over your nipples.
“Like this?” he asks, his gaze tracing every micro-expression on your face, analyzing your reaction with the focus of a hunter.
You nod, eagerly, completely at the mercy of the sensation. “But... you were actually touching them.”
“Hm?” He glances down at your saturated top. “Do you want that?”
You nod again, this time with a sheepish look that completely betrays the heat pooling between your legs.
He reaches his hand behind your back, locating the knot. With one smooth, expert flick of his wrist, he unties the strings. In the same motion, his other hand pulls the fabric away from the front, exposing you completely to the cool air of the room and to his gaze.
“Fuck...” he growls, the sound ragged and raw in his throat. He tosses your top onto the floor. His eyes devour you, and you can feel his sultry possessiveness. “What was next?”
You feel your fingers begin to fidget above your chest, showing signs of embarrassment under his gaze. “You... um... you started licking. And pinching—”
He doesn't wait. You let out a gasp as he takes one between his lips and gropes the other.
“Yes—” you hiccup, your back arching involuntarily off the bed. “J-just like that! Ah! And... and you kept going down. Down my body.”
A low groan escapes his lips against your skin as he pulls his mouth away with a pop. His eyes are dilated, staring at you with an almost primal hunger. He shifts his assault, showering your stomach hot, open-mouth kisses that leave you burning.
“What did I do next?” he grunts against your skin, his hands continuing to possessively fondling your breasts.
“The... the last thing I remember,” you whisper, your voice oozing with pleasure, “is your face... between my legs.”
“I was going to eat you out.” He says, straightforwardly. He pulls away from your stomach, shifting down. He kneels at the foot of the bed, his strong hands sliding up to grip your knees and spreading them, his intent written clearly across his face.
“I-I think so, b-but you don’t have to—Gumi!”
Before you can finish your protest, his hands find your ankles. With a sudden, powerful surge of strength, he yanks you down the comforter of the mattress until your butt is right at the edge.
“I want to,” he mutters, he reaches out, grouping his fingers, softly patting the damp spot between your legs. The direct contact makes you squeal and squirm.
“Megumi! D-don’t tease me, please…” you moan, the sound escaping like second nature.
He lets out a ragged curse under his breath. “Do you want this? Me fucking you with my tongue and my fingers?”
“Yes…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the sound of your own pulse.
“Louder,” Megumi commands. He begins sliding a single finger up and down your covered folds, the friction driving you to the brink.
“Yes! Please, Gumi!” you shriek, the desperation finally breaking through.
He lets out a deep, satisfied chuckle. With a quick, efficient motion, he peels the last of your clothing away, exposing you completely. You instinctively move to cover yourself with your hands, the vulnerability making you shiver.
“Hey.” He leans forward, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your knuckles. “Let me take care of you.”
His voice is so tender that your defenses crumble. You bite back another moan pulling your hands away, letting them fall to the sheets. He offers a small, predatory smile as he pushes your legs up and back, pinning them in a way that gives him a perfect, unobstructed view.
“Tell me if it’s too much, okay?” he says, his breath hot against your inner thigh. He presses a kiss to both of your legs, affectionately.
You can only nod, your words lost in your throat, as Megumi dives in. The first touch of his tongue flicks over your clit.
He circles it with a slow, agonizing precision that sends sparks all around your body. Your hands move on their own, your nails digging into his dark, disheveled hair as you instinctively pull him closer.
“Shit…” he groans against your skin. Gripping your thighs with powerful force, his voice thick with starvation. “You taste so good.”
The sensation is too much; you try to close your legs around his head, but it only gives him a better angle to continue his assault. He’s persistent, his tongue working with a frantic, beautiful rhythm that has you sobbing his name.
“Gumiiii—Ah! I-I’m close! S-slow down!” you hiccup, your body trembling.
Instead, he picks up the pace. He uses the fluids of your own body as lubricant, sliding his long, calloused, middle finger into your entrance. The combination of the friction and the depth is overwhelming.
“Ah-ah! I’m gonna cum!” you slur, your mind going blank. You try to push him away in a fit of overstimulation, but he refuses to budge. “Don’t—don't wanna cum on you!”
He grunts as he sucks harder on your clit, his finger curling deeper into your cunt, hitting exactly where you need it most. You lose the fight, your body stiffening as you reach your climax with a high-pitched, whimper.
“Gumi…” you breathe, the word trembling as he finally pulls back.
He stands over you, looking down with a heavy-lidded gaze. You can see the evidence of your climax on his lips and fingers, and a fresh wave of panic hits you. “I’m so sorry. I-I tried to push you away—Gumi! Wait!”
He doesn’t listen. Instead, he leans back over you, sliding his ring and middle fingers into your aching, sensitive pussy. At the same time, his eyes lock onto yours as he slowly licks your juices from his other hand, never breaking eye contact.
“Stop worrying,” Megumi says, his voice dropping into a deep, enchanting tone. He begins pumping his fingers into you, a rough force that has your toes curling. “I’m nowhere near done enjoying the sounds you make.”
“Gumi—hic—It's too much!” your sopping pussy telling otherwise as it gushes around his fingers. The last fluids of your first orgasm still present. “I-I want to please you, too!”
Eager to turn the tables, you get your foot to connect to his bulge. The area on his shorts is sticky, and the motion draws a strained groan from deep in his throat.
“You want it?” he asks, his tone suddenly cocky, though his eyes tell a different story. “Let me hear you beg for it.”
He crawls back on top of you, continuing to pumping his fingers into your sensitive walls. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his mouth finding the sensitive skin, marking you with hickeys.
“Gumi! Ngh—please,” you beg, your fingers tangling in his hair. “I want to make you feel good.”
The pleasure peaks again, your eyes rolling back as a second, smaller orgasm rolls through you. You hear him chuckle against your skin.
“Fine,” he says flatly, finally pulling his hand away and giving your dripping center a soft, mocking pat, making you jump. “But for the record, I’m perfectly content with where I’m at.”
You shake your head instantly, the haze of embarrassment replaced by a sudden, fierce determination.
“I want to make you cum,” you say, the unashamed bluntness of the words surprising even you.
Megumi’s eyes widen, his stoic mask slipping for a split second. You don't miss the way his cock twitches beneath the fabric of his shorts at your words.
“Okay,” he says softly. He shifts, moving to sit on the very edge of the duvet. He cups his hands together, his gaze fixed on the floor as if he’s trying to regain his composure.
You sit up, the cool air hitting your moist skin, and rest your head on his shoulder. “W-what’s wrong?”
“You don’t have to gratify me,” he says, turning to look at you with a smile so tender it makes your chest ache. “I honestly just like making you feel good. That’s more than enough for me.”
Oh, Megumi...
“Well...” You slide off the bed, kneeling on the carpet between his legs. Your fingers, trembling slightly, as you catch the drawstring of his shorts, looking up at him through your long eyelashes. “What if I told you I feel exactly the same way?”
“Shit…” his breath hitching. He looks down at you, his expression shown with unfamiliar hesitation. “Are you sure? I know you’re new to this. You don’t have to—”
You lean up, cutting him off with a soft, reassuring kiss to his cheek.
“Mhm.” You settle back onto your knees. “May I... try?”
Your hand travels to the waistband of his shorts, your fingers brushing against the clothing.
“Yeah.”
The permission is a rough rasp. You pull his shorts down, and they hit the floor with a soft rustle.
Free of the restriction, his cock springs forward, heavy and dark-veined. His tip, pink, glazed with a thin layer of precum. It's throbbing, begging, curved ever so nicely to be sucked and worshipped.
He’s so much bigger than I imagined. Will I even be able to handle this?
“D-don’t stare,” he pants, the sound uncharacteristically small. He jerks his head to the side, but you can see the tip of his ear turning a vivid, burning red.
“Sorry...” You lightly trailing your fingernails down his shaft. The skin is velvet-soft but thick. “I just want to admire you in such a state.”
He lets out a shaky hum, his eyes darting around the room, desperate to look anywhere but at your wide, adoring eyes and the curves of your body bathing in the light, illuminating from his window.
Your fingers wrap around his cock, your grip tentative. You begin to stroke him in slow, soothing motions, feeling the way he pulses under your palm. A pretty moan escapes his throat, telling you exactly how much he’s enjoying it.
“Please...” he cries, his fingers knotting into the bedsheets. “You really... you don’t have to do this.”
“But you’re making such cute noises for me,” you cooed, a trace of a smirk playing on your lips. You lean in, your tongue darting out to taste the salt at the tip.
“Fuck.” Megumi’s hand shoots out, his fingers hooking under your chin and tilting your head back. He crashes his mouth against yours, kissing you with a sudden longing, the taste of your own sweetness still lingering on his lips.
“Get up,” he demands, his voice a low command.
You stand, though your knees are still a bit wobbly from the pleasure he’d given you earlier. He stands, his height towering over you, before he sweeps you up by your thighs. You instinctively wrap your legs around his torso, your arms circling his neck.
“Gumi? D-did I do something wro—”
The question is cut short as he spins you around and lays you back onto the mattress, the bed creaking under you.
“No,” he says, his eyes flooding in primal intensity. He releases one of your legs, reaching over to his nightstand to snag a condom. “I’m going to fuck you now. Okay?”
You bite your bottom lip, your head bobbing in a flustered nod.
“I need words, not gestures,” he says, his voice dropping into a commanding growl. He rips the packaging open with his teeth and rolls the latex onto his dick with a steady hand.
“Gumi, I-I should let you know that I’m a-”
“Virgin,” he finishes for you, his voice a low, knowing rumble. He brushes the head of his cock against your entrance, the contact sending a jolt through your system. “I know.”
The bluntness of his admission is enough to make you want to hide under the covers, but there is no hiding from him now.
“I’ll be gentle,” he promises, his thumb tracing the curve of your hip. He moves his cock against your slit, a slow, agonizingly measured friction that has you gasping. “So, I’ll ask. Are you ready for me?”
“Mhm… I-I’m ready,” you whisper, your fingers knotting into the sheets.
He doesn't waste another second. Megumi’s hands slide to your hips, his grip unyielding as he aligns himself. He begins to push in, inch by inch, his eyes never leaving your face. He’s watching every flicker of your expression, every wince, every hitch in your breath.
“Fuck… you’re so tight,” he groans, the sound muffled as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath ghosting over your skin. “So warm.”
“Ah—wait,” you whimper, your body tensing around the unfamiliar fullness. “Are you… are you fully in?”
He pauses, his muscles trembling with the effort of holding back. He glances down at where your bodies are joined.
“Halfway,” he says, looking back up at you with an intensity that makes your head swim. “Do you want me to stop?”
You shake your head, a surge of sudden bravery washing over you. You want this. All of it. You want him.
“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he says, with concern as he tries to comfort you.
You nod, reaching up to grab his shoulders, your nails digging slightly into his skin as you brace yourself. Megumi pushes forward, taking the rest of his cock in one leisurely motion. You let out a broken sound, and he’s immediately there, showering your face with soft, distracting kisses, to pull your focus away from the sharp, unfamiliar sting.
Once he's fully in he stays perfectly still, letting your body adjust to his cock. He continues to kiss your cheeks, your brow, and your nose until your breathing finally begins to level out.
“Gumi…” you say softly, your voice trembling with a mix of awe and affection. “I-I’m ready. You can move.”
He pulls one hand away from your hip, using his fingers to gently tuck a stray hair behind your ear. He looks at you then, admiring you, with a gaze so filled with unfiltered love.
“Okay,” he whispers.
He settles his hand back on your hip and begins to move. The thrusts are deliberate and profound, the room is staggered, hot breathing and the soft slaps of skin against skin.
As you start to find your rhythm with him, the pain fading into something pleasurable. Megumi reaches down. His thumb finds your swollen clit, kneading it with a sudden speed that catches you completely off guard.
“Ahmm! Gumiii!” you squeal, your back arching, legs trembling.
“I can’t… I can’t hold back anymore,” he whines. He looks down at you, his eyes pleading. “C-can I be greedy? Just this once?”
“Y-yes,” you breathe, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. “Of course you can.”
Megumi’s grip on your legs tightens, his knuckles white as he spreads you wider. He pulls back until he’s nearly out, only to drive back in with a forceful acceleration that leaves you breathless.
“Gumi! Oh my God!” you gasp.
“You feel… so good,” he growls, his voice a distorted rasp. He abandons his slow pace entirely, his thrusting becomes harsher and messy that has you clinging to the sheets.
The pressure is building again, a wave of pleasure that you can’t outrun. “Gumi—gonna cum again—ah!” You raise your hands, fingers digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Cum for me.” he commands, his breathing ragged as he feels your walls pulse around him.
As you let out lewd whine, you cum all over his wrapped cock, Megumi lets out a torn moan, his eyes clenching shut. “You’re getting tighter—haah!” He slams his hands onto the mattress on either side of your head, his muscles bulging as he holds himself over you, burying his face in your neck to kiss the marks he left earlier.
He continues to move for a few more seconds, but then he suddenly pulls away, the loss of his warmth leaving you cold and shivering.
“Open your mouth.” he says, his voice dropping into that deep, predatory tone. He strips the condom off and tosses it toward the trash can in one swift motion.
“H-huh?” You blink up at him, your mind still hazy.
“You wanted to please me, right?” He looks down at you, his hand stroking the length of his cock as he stands over you. “Then get on your knees and open your mouth.”
You slide off the bed, your legs feeling like lead, kneeling on the carpet before him. You look up at the oozing semen coming from his cock, before parting your lips with a small, submissive moan.
“Mhm. Yeah, just like that,” he mutters, his gaze darkening. He strokes himself a few more times before guiding himself into your mouth. He lets out a long, pained groan at the sensation. “Suck,” he demands.
You submit, your hands tightening around his thighs to steady yourself. You brace against him, drawing all his inches deep into your throat, a sharp, involuntary gag escapes you. Tears start forming but it doesn't stop you from taking him all in, inexperiencedly. It doesn’t take long; he’s already hovering at the edge. With a breathy whimper, Megumi finally breaks. His entire body pales and tenses as he sees you taking him so perfectly. But he doesn’t move, he stays put in your warm, tight, mouth until his balls feel completely empty.
He eventually steps away, his breath coming in heavy, as he combs his hair back. His dick goes limp as he scans your face for any sign of discomfort, finding nothing but the soft, dazed haze of your expression and his thick, white cum on the corner of your lips. Sinking to the floor, he knelt before you to pull you into a deep kiss.
“You should’ve told me you wanted this,” he whispers against your mouth, licking his cream off the corners of your lips.
“I-I will next time,” you whisper, finally looking away as the embarrassment creeps back in. “I just… I didn’t know if you’d even want to. You told Yuji that seeing me like that was… unnecessary.”
Megumi scoffs, the sound dry and amused. “I’m guessing Kugisaki was the one who briefed you on that.” He stands up, scooping you up into a bridal carry. “I only said that because I have no interest in discussing my private life with a moron.”
“Oh?”
“But I do have...” He pulls you tight against his chest. “Desires. You could say that.”
“You're so experienced with all of this,” you hook your arms around his neck. “I would really like to know your urges.”
Megumi lets out a low, soft chuckle, a sound that sends a fresh shiver racing down your spine. He carries you into the small bathroom, where the air is still crisp and undisturbed. Setting you down gently on the closed toilet lid, he leans past you toward the shower, his arm reaching in to twist the handle.
“It might be too much for you to handle,” he says. He keeps his back to you, the light scars from your grasp visible as he holds a hand under the spray to test the temperature.
“Megumi,” you say, your voice dripping with interest, while softly kissing his fresh wounds, making him groan. “I want to know. Tell me.”
The water begins to hiss against the tile, filling the room with a rising mist. Megumi pauses, then slowly turns his head to look back at you. His green eyes are clouded with craving, the kind of look that makes you realize he might be more aroused than you.
“Sex on the beach,” he states, his eyes glued to your lips. “Where no one can see us but the ocean. That’s what I want.”
Pairing.ᐟ: Baseballplayer!Megumi Fushiguro x Shy!reader
Synopsis.ᐟ: You have been accepted into J.U. (Jujutsu University) on a full scholarship. During your first day you become captivated by Megumi, a quiet and reserved baseball player. As months pass, your bond grows naturally through shared moments. At a party, a tense situation reveals Megumi’s protective side, leading to a private confession.
Tags.ᐟ: college au, non curse au, piercings!megumi (snake bites, eyebrow, lobe, outer ear), friends to lovers, afab!reader, anxious!reader, mutual yearning, mention of drinking, light kissing, MAJOR fluff !!, slight OOC, proofread.
Author's Note.ᐟ: Megumi as a baseball player literally has me drooling I needed to share this! First fic!
WCᐟ: 5.2K
⤷ You had a Wet Dream about Megumi.ᐟ ⋆˚࿔ part two!!
If you like this, you should check out my masterlist!
Getting into J.U. was difficult, to say the least, but not only did you get accepted, you earned a full scholarship.
Still, standing in front of the towering front gates, all that achievement did little to steady your nerves. The school itself was testing whether you truly belonged. Your stomach twists as you step through.
You pull out the campus map, its size almost ridiculous in your trembling hands, scanning for the dorms while students pass by with confidence you didn’t yet have.
Eventually, you found the dormitory. Then your room.
You slid your key into the lock, only to pause when the knob turned too easily.
Hm… that's strange.
You double-checked the number on the door. It was definitely yours.
Great. The first day of college and I have to confront someone?
You exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sudden thoughts.
It’s fine. Just be polite. Be normal. It’s not like they’ll bite my head off… right?
With one steadying breath, you pushed the door open.
“Finally. You’re here. Did you get lost or something?”
Your heart nearly stopped by the voice.
A girl stood inside like she owned the place. Short ginger hair cut into a sharp bob, orange eyes blazing with confidence, wearing a cute red crop top and blue bell bottoms. Her presence demanded attention.
She walked up to you, openly sizing you up.
“You’re new. And you're my dorm neighbor, so I had to check you out.”
“Oh-! Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” You forced a smile, offering your hand.
She’s terrifying. Please don’t let her notice I’m nervous. But wait… How did she get into my room?
“Nobara Kugisaki.” She shakes your hand with a firm grip. “You are?”
You gave your name, mind racing through every possible way this conversation could go wrong.
“I can tell you’re a scaredy cat,” she said plainly.
Your stomach dropped.
Dear God. It’s that obvious. Calm down. She hasn’t done anything crazy.
“Sorry,” you laughed awkwardly. “I just didn’t expect someone to be in my room.”
“Don’t worry about that,” she waved it off instantly. “Come on. I’ll show you around campus.”
What is happening?? Why is she changing the subject??
Before you could protest, she grabbed your suitcase, setting it aside, then your wrist.
“Listen. J.U. isn’t for the weak. You should be glad I got to you first.”
That does not sound comforting!
“W-what do you mean?” You say, visibly anxious.
Kugisaki sighs. “Just follow me. I’ll tell you while we walk around campus.”
You follow her, locking your dorm behind you, still unsure why she’s going out of her way to do all this. Kugisaki moves quickly, confidently, guiding you through campus like she owns it. She points out different buildings, shortcuts between paths, even places that weren’t marked on the map at all. By the time she finally slows down, you’re already a little breathless trying to keep up.
“Sororities and frat groups are what make J.U. stand out,” she explains. “Recruitment starts at the beginning of the year, so things get competitive.”
“I see…” you hesitate. “But why are you trying to recruit me? What if I mess up your status in the sorority?”
Kugisaki doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she grabs your wrist again, pulling you toward the baseball stadium.
“Girl,” she scoffs, dragging you down the steps, “your reaction when you opened your door told me everything I needed to know.”
You blink. “Everything?”
“Yeah,” she says flatly. “You’re harmless.”
A pause.
“And probably a pushover.”
You let out an awkward laugh, but it dies quickly as your gaze drifts to the field.
Players run drills under the warm afternoon sun. And then your eyes drift to him.
Dark, spiky hair damp with sweat. Sharp features softened only slightly by long lashes and pale pink lips. Black piercings glinted along his ears, brow, and lip, giving him a dangerous edge that clashed with his quiet focus. His clothes shift with each stride, loose fabric moving effortlessly as he runs the bases.
Who is that?
“Lastly, here’s the baseball field. If you have eyes, you could tell-” Kugisaki cuts herself off, following your line of sight.
“…Really?” she scoffs, “Fushiguro? I don’t see the appeal.”
Fushiguro. So that’s his name.
“You’d be surprised how many girls go after him,” she continued, rolling her eyes. “And he rejects all of them. Total bum.”
You look away from the field and back at her.
“And there’s this girl, Hana,” Kugisaki adds, combing her fingers through her hair in annoyance. “She’s obsessed with him. Different sorority.”
You nod, sensing the irritation in her tone, and decide not to push the topic further.
“I should probably go finish unpacking… before it gets too late.”
You turn to leave, but Kugisaki steps right in front of you.
“No, no, no. We’re going to talk to Maki, your soon-to-be sorority leader.” She grins.
I don’t like the sound of that…
As she has done many times before, Kugisaki grabs you by the wrist and takes you to Maki’s dorm.
The walk to Maki’s dorm is filled with Kugisaki teasing you, clearly entertained by how long you looked at Fushiguro.
When you finally stop outside the door, she turns to you and holds out her hand.
“Phone.”
“…What?”
“You need to follow the sorority page.”
Reluctantly, you unlock your phone and hand it over. She taps through quickly, making you follow the account, then switches to another.
“Here,” she says, handing it back. “Fushiguro’s page. He only posts on his story. It’s lame.”
You take your phone, a little flustered, unsure if you should follow now or later.
“I’ll be back,” she says, slipping into the room and leaving you alone in the hallway.
You glance down at your screen. His story is simple: baseball clips, books, music. No selfies. No effort to show himself off. It fits him. Reserved. Quiet. You like that.
After looking through his and the sorority page, Kugisaki came back into the hallway.
“Maki’s ready,” Kugisaki says. “She’ll ask you some basic questions, so don’t wet your panties, okay?”
Kugisaki’s statement makes you gulp, but you walk in nonetheless.
Maki sits at her desk near the door. Her presence is immediate, sharp, controlled, impossible to ignore. Feminine features do little to soften her intensity. Green eyes, framed by sleek black hair and purple glasses, track your every movement. It feels less like entering a dorm room and more like stepping into a tiger’s den.
Her questions are straightforward:
“How will you contribute to the sorority?”
“Will you be reliable during events?”
And “Are you responsible?”
You answer carefully, doing your best to stay composed. When she nods in approval, something in your chest finally loosens.
“You’re welcome to join.” Maki says, writing down all your information.
Kugisaki cheers immediately, grabbing your arm and pulling you back out before you can even process it.
By the time you’re walking back to your dorm, excitement begins to settle in.
Maybe… College life won’t be too bad.
“So,” Kugisaki suddenly says, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Fushiguro.”
You nearly trip.
Why does she keep bringing him up?!
“Are you going to try and get with him?” she asks bluntly.
You wave your hands dismissively. “I haven’t even talked to him! I’d want to be friends first before even thinking about anything like that.”
“What a smart girl,” she teases, patting your back.
You glance at her, only to catch the mischievous smirk spreading across her face.
…Why do I feel like she’s planning something?
“Let’s head back to your room,” she says. “There’s an opening baseball game tomorrow, and you’re going.” Kugisaki nudges your shoulder, playfully. “Maybe even get him to notice you.”
“Kugisaki, that’s too much. And I don’t even have anything that would catch his eye.”
You reach your dorm, unlocking the door and stepping inside.
Kugisaki’s eyes light up instantly.
“Shopping Spree!!” she squeals.
While grabbing your suitcase to unpack, you freeze. “…I won’t be able to go. I don’t have the money for that.”
“Girl, don’t worry. I got you!”
That makes your stomach tighten. You hated the fact people spent money on you. Now this girl you barely know wants to do that.
“Kugisaki, I can’t let you do that,” you say quickly. “You’re being really sweet, but-”
“Too late,” she grins. “Our Uber’s already here.”
You sigh.
This is going to be a long year.
The stores she drags you into are nothing like the ones you’re used to. They were luxurious, expensive, and overwhelming. By the end of it, you walk out with two bags. Kugisaki has six.
“Having Gojo as our sponsor has its perks,” she says casually.
“…Wait. Is that how you got into my dorm room?”
She smirks, putting a finger to your lips.
“Shh, baby girl. Let me spoil you.”
You and Kugisaki are mid-laugh when two familiar figures approach.
One of them is impossible to miss. A boy in a bright red hoodie, toothy grin, and stride that makes you feel like you knew him your whole life. Behind him walks Fushiguro, hands tucked into his pockets, dressed in black sweats, and his expression as calm as ever.
“Hello, new girl,” the boy says, his hazel eyes lighting up as they land on you, then flicking to Kugisaki. “Hey, Kugisaki. When were you planning on introducing me to this lovely lady?”
“Never,” Kugisaki shoots back instantly. “She doesn’t need to be surrounded by idiots.”
He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest. “You wound me, Kugisaki.”
“Good.” She sighs, already over it.
“I’m Yuji Itadori!” he says, grabbing your free hand and shaking it enthusiastically.
You’re startled, caught off guard by his energy, but manage to tell him your name with a shy smile.
“Pretty name,” Itadori says easily, stepping back before pointing over his shoulder. “And this is my best bro-”
“Fushiguro.”
He steps forward, cutting Itadori off, pulling one hand from his pocket as he holds it out for you.
Just his last name… wow, he really is reserved. It makes him so much hotter! Breathe. Don’t say anything crazy.
You gently take his hand, giving your name again, your voice softer this time. When you pull away, you offer a small smile.
“It’s more than just nice, gorgeous,” Itadori adds with a playful wink.
Itadori is really sweet… I shouldn’t overthink it. He’s probably just being friendly. Yeah, don’t start assuming things.
“Wow… that was lame,” Kugisaki cuts in, scanning the mall like she’s already bored. “We’re here to shop, not talk to losers.” She flips her hair over her shoulder.
You turn to follow her, but Itadori quickly grabs your arm.
“Wait, let us tag along! We just finished watching Human Earthworm 4!”
“Which we’ve seen ten times since it came out,” Fushiguro mutters, clearly irritated.
Itadori scoffs. “What? You love it!”
“If being disturbed every time means I love it, then yeah, it’s my favorite movie,” Fushiguro deadpans.
A soft giggle escapes you before you can stop it. You glance at him, surprised.
He jokes? He’s getting hotter by the second.
Fushiguro meets your gaze, the faintest smirk tugging at his lips.
Meanwhile, Itadori has already pulled Kugisaki a few steps away, arguing, loudly, about joining the shopping trip and trying to convince her to host some kind of movie marathon.
Which leaves you and Fushiguro standing together.
Your heart picks up again.
I want to talk to him… Say something, anything!
“How long has that movie been out?” you ask, trying to sound casual.
“Three weeks,” he answers.
“Oh… so you guys go out a lot?”
“Not willingly,” he says with a quiet sigh, glancing toward Itadori, who’s currently being verbally attacked by Kugisaki.
You laugh softly, relaxing a little.
“You have a very energetic friend.”
“You could say that again,” Fushiguro replies, looking back at you, a small, almost reluctant smile forming.
Kugisaki turns back to you and Fushiguro after scolding Itadori.
“Alright, enough talking. These bozos are coming with us,” she announces.
“We’re still shopping?” you ask, lifting your two bags slightly. “I already have enough…”
“No, you don’t,” she says flatly, dropping her bags straight into Itadori’s arms. “And now we have help carrying everything.”
Then she leans in closer to you, nudging your shoulder.
“Plus, you’ll get to talk to him,” she whispers, giving you a quick wink.
Your face warms instantly.
You lightly shove her shoulder. “Stop…”
Before you can recover, Fushiguro steps forward.
“Here.” He takes your bags from your hands with ease.
“Y-you didn’t have to do that.”
He shakes his head once.
“It's fine.”
The rest of the day slips by faster than you expect.
Somewhere between the stores, the laughter, and the constant chaos, you find yourself learning more about Kugisaki, Itadori, and especially Fushiguro.
While Itadori and Kugisaki bounce between playful arguments and full-on yelling matches, you and Fushiguro fall into a rabbit hole of interest. What starts as a simple conversation about the opening baseball game slowly shifts into music, hobbies, and the small things that make up who you are.
Eventually, the four of you settle into a restaurant inside the mall, your feet aching from being dragged through more stores than you can count.
The table is anything but quiet.
Itadori and Kugisaki continue their back-and-forth, loud and unfiltered, while you sit across from Fushiguro, the noise around you fading into something distant. The two of you keep talking, learning, laughing, and growing just a little closer with every exchange.
After the meal, Itadori insists on driving you and Kugisaki back to the dorms.
The moon had started to rise over the horizon when you left the mall.
Kugisaki immediately runs to Itadori’s car and claims the passenger seat, shooting you a quick wink before hopping in.
You glance at Fushiguro, but he doesn’t seem bothered at all. If anything, he looks… pleased.
He opens the back door for you, gesturing for you to slide in first, making space for the bags piled in the car.
“Thank you,” you say softly.
He nods once before getting in beside you.
At some point, you end up sharing an earbud with him, passing your phone back and forth as you play different songs, each one revealing something new about the other. Before you knew it you fell asleep against him.
The car comes to a stop.
You stir, blinking awake, only to realize your head is resting on his shoulder.
You jolt upright.
“Ah! I’m so sorry!” you rush out. “Did I drool on you?”
A quiet chuckle escapes him.
“If you did, I wouldn’t wake you,” he says. “You looked exhausted. Kugisaki has that effect on people.”
“Hey!” Kugisaki protests from the front seat. “She had an amazing time with me!”
Fushiguro rolls his eyes faintly, stepping out first, then turns, holding out his hand.
You hesitate only for a second before taking it.
“Thank you.” you murmur.
“Mhm. It’s nothing.”
He lets go, walking around to grab your bags before you can stop him.
“Fushiguro, you’re too kind. I can carry them-”
You reach for the bags, but he lifts them slightly out of your reach.
“No.” he says with a firm tone.
Then he leans in just slightly, his voice lowering near your ear, “I need a reason to talk to you privately.”
Your heart stumbles.
What?! Privately? Did I do something wrong? Oh no… What if I said something weird earlier? I don’t think I did… right?
You swallow, your thoughts racing far faster than your steps as you lead the way back to your dorm.
The walk feels short. Too short.
By the time you reach your door, your nerves have already tied themselves into knots.
Instead, he lifts one of the bags in his hand and opens it. Inside is a dress.
Blue and black, soft fabric, mid-thigh length sundress.
“It’ll be hot outside during the opening game,” he says, meeting your eyes. “You should wear this.”
Fushiguro pauses.
“And it highlights your features well.”
That’s it? Oh thank the gods of all holy.
Relief floods through you, followed immediately by something warmer.
Wait… was that a compliment?
You take the bag, nodding quickly.
“I-I will! Thank you… for telling me. And for everything today.” You smile, a little shy. “I’ll repay you somehow.”
He shakes his head, a quiet laugh slipping through.
“You can repay me by coming to the game.”
“I was going to anyway!” you say quickly. “But don’t worry. I’ll figure something out.”
“I’m sure you will,” he replies.
He starts to turn away, putting his hands into his pockets.
“Goodnight.”
“Goodnight!” you call after him. “Good luck at the game!”
He pauses, glancing back over his shoulder.
“I’ll play better if you’re cheering me on.”
You ran into your room.
That night, you’re curled up in bed, phone in hand, giggling quietly as you text Kugisaki about everything that happened.
The next day you got up with excitement.
You finish unpacking the rest of your things, take a quick shower, and slip into the sundress he picked out. The fabric feels light against your skin.
You sit at your vanity, carefully starting your makeup, trying not to overthink it.
The door suddenly swings open, knowing that it was Kugisaki.
“Kugisaki! Good morning!” you say, turning toward her with a bright smile.
“Well, aren’t you giddy,” she teases, looking you up and down. “And look at you, wearing that sundress. Fushiguro was definitely checking you out when you came out of the dressing room.”
“Don’t say that!” you groan, covering your face for a second. “I’m already embarrassed about falling asleep on him and making him carry my bags.”
“You do know he offered, right?” Kugisaki walks over, spinning your chair to face the mirror again. She grabs an eyebrow brush, fixing your brows with practiced ease. “I’ve never seen Fushiguro actually enjoy helping someone.”
You blink at your reflection.
“He’s an emo bastard,” she continues bluntly, “but somehow, you’re getting through to him.”
Heat rushes to your cheeks.
“We just talked about our interests,” you mumble. “And… he has really good opinions.”
“Do you even like his music taste?” she asks, adjusting your necklace with a skeptical look. “It’s sooo boring.”
“…Weezer has some good songs,” you mutter.
Kugisaki snorts. “Yeah, you’re perfect for him.”
She sprays setting spray over her face, grinning at your embarrassed expression.
“Let’s just go find our seats,” you say quickly, trying to change the subject. “You look really pretty, Kugisaki.”
You point at her green two piece dress.
“Thanks, girl. You look gorgeous.” She smirks. “Your man’s gonna love seeing you in that again.”
Why does she keep saying such things like that? I'm going to think ahead of myself!
The stadium is packed, loud, alive, buzzing with energy.
Kugisaki wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you through the crowd until you reach your seats near the field.
The teams are announced, and the crowd erupts into cheers. Your eyes immediately search for him. You find him stretching his shoulder, focused, but then… he pauses.
Looking and searching around the stadium seats.
His eyes landed on you. He smiles then turns back to the field.
Was he looking at me??
Behind you, two girls are already talking.
“Mai! Mai! He was smiling at me! Oh my God, he’s so handsome!”
You feel your gut drop, and you glance down at your feet, suddenly unsure.
What if he wasn’t looking at me…?
Kugisaki nudges your leg, leaning in. “He was obviously looking at you,” she whispers. “I don’t know what Hana is talking about.”
So that is Hana?
You sneak a glance back.
She looks like an angel. I should probably drop these feelings towards him. But Kugisaki said he was looking at me. So I may have a chance… oh I don’t know.
You nod and turn your focus back to the game.
You don’t know everything about baseball, but thanks to yesterday's conversation with Fushiguro, you understand enough to follow along.
The game concluded. The crowd cheers, teammates celebrate, and the field fills with energy.
Kugisaki insists that you follow her and wait near the locker room so you can talk to Fushiguro, and honestly, you don’t argue.
While waiting, you hear voices echoing down the hallway. Itadori and… Hana.
She’s clinging to Fushiguro’s arm like a koala.
Your chest tightens but then Fushiguro looks up from the ground and at you.
Immediately, he pulls away from her and walks straight over.
“Hey,” he says, his eyes briefly scanning your outfit, smiling. “Did you enjoy the game?”
“Mhm!” you nod quickly. “You were amazing! You did… um …oh! A grand slam, right?”
“You got it,” he says. “Did you notice anything else?”
“Yeah! You used that no-stride swing for the home run!”
He nods, approving.
“Good job.”
Hana grabs onto his arm again. “I knew that too! Where’s my praise?”
“Good for you,” he replies, already looking back at you, clearly uninterested.
You can’t help but giggle.
Before you can say anything else, you hear Kugisaki loudly criticizing Itadori’s throwing.
You glance over, Itadori looking deeply offended. Wanting to hype up everyone equally, you step in gently.
“Itadori, you were amazing too! Your throws were incredible.”
His face lights up instantly, and he pulls you into a quick hug. Making you step back a bit from his weight.
“See? Someone ‘preciates my skills!” he says, shooting Kugisaki a look while you pat his head.
“Don’t boost his ego,” Kugisaki mutters. “He’s already annoying enough.”
“Come on,” she adds, pulling you away from Itadori’s grasp. “We’ve got better things to do.”
“Can I get your number?” he asks. “You don’t have to if you-”
“Yes! Of course!” you blurt out. “I mean, I’d love to! You wanted to show me more of your playlists, right?”
I freaked out. I totally freaked out. Shoot!
“…Yeah,” he says, a small smile forming.
You quickly put your contact into his phone, with shaky hands, then you send yourself a message, just to be sure.
Your phone buzzed in your purse, alerting you that you put in the right contact info.
I’m so eager! Calm down girl, gosh.
“Well… I should go before Kugisaki starts another fight with Itadori,” you say lightly.
“I’ll text you later.”
“O-okay! I’ll see you around, Fushiguro!”
“Megumi.”
You pause.
“What?”
He looks at you, like really looks at you this time.
“You can call me Megumi.”
First name basis?! Already?!
You smile, trying to keep your excitement under control.
“Okay… then you can call me by my first name too. Bye, Megumi!”
After that day, you and Megumi grow closer. Naturally.
It was the small things.
Studying at cafes, grabbing food together, sharing music as you walk along the beach at night, the sound of waves blending with soft melodies in your ears.
Before you realize it, months pass. People start talking. Rumors spread that you and Megumi are dating. Which wasn’t true, just really good friends.
You’re sitting on your bed, phone in hand, searching up what a traffic party is after Kugisaki mentioned that Maki is hosting one tonight.
A party where you wear red, yellow, or green to show if you’re taken, talking to someone, or single…
You hum softly.
That’s actually kind of interesting.
You stand, walking over to your closet before pulling out a green, shimmery mini dress, the one Kugisaki bought for you the first day you met her.
Seven months.
It’s already been that long since you met Nobara, Yuji… and Megumi.
“Girl, you should ask him out tonight. He clearly likes you.” Kugisaki says, leaning on the doorframe, putting on her hoop earrings while wearing a yellow and black jumpsuit.
You nearly jump out of your skin.
“Nobara! Why do you always do that?” you huff, adjusting the straps of your dress. “You need a bell or something.”
She walks in like she owns the place, fixing the top of your dress without asking.
“Shush. Don’t change the subject.”
You sigh, your expression softening.
“I shouldn’t,” you admit quietly. “He’s already busy with school and baseball… and honestly, what we have now is more than I could’ve asked for.”
Nobara gives you a look.
“Don’t play with me. I know you want more, it’s written all over your face.” She pokes your side, making you laugh and squirm.
“Okay, okay! stop!” you giggle. “But still… hasn’t Hana liked him way longer than me?”
Nobara groans dramatically.
“Oh my God. Sweetheart. You’ve seen how he acts around her. He rolls his eyes, avoids her, finds literally anything else to do other than talk to her, do I need to keep going?”
You quickly raise your hand, stopping her from continuing.
“No, no. I get it.” You pause, thinking. “I’ll… show some signs that I like him. I just don’t want to force anything.”
“Please,” Nobara says, grabbing your cheeks and squishing your face. “He’ll be at the party. Just be brave.”
“Gosh okay! I’ll make a move. Swear.” you hold her wrist, in realization, “Wait. He’s going to the party??”
She nods casually. “Yeah. I told Yuji to bring him.”
Your eyes widen.
“Nobara, why?! I’m not ready! Just end me now! Does Yuji know?!” you ask in a panic.
“You. Are. Ready,” she says firmly. “And yeah, he figured it out. But he hasn’t told him, and if he did open his big mouth, I’d be on the news.”
You shove her shoulder lightly.
“I can’t with you.”
“I know you love me,” she grins. “And Megumi is in love with you.”
Before you can even respond, she grabs your purse, and arm.
“Let’s go. Time to party!”
The house is already packed when you arrive.
Loud music pulses through the walls, laughter spilling out into the night. Inside, the place is lavish, lights glowing, people everywhere.
“Wow! This place is really lively!” you shout over the noise.
“Yeah, we’re gonna have fun!” Nobara yells back.
You barely make it inside before the scene overwhelms you, people dancing, drinking, some even diving into an indoor pool.
“I’m going to get a-”
You turn to Nobara… she’s gone.
Now I'm alone. Great.
With a hefty sigh you walk to the bar and get a light drink.
With a light drink in hand, you glance across the room and there he is.
Megumi.
Standing near the food table, hands in his pockets, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else.
He’s wearing a dark green quarter zip with grey sweats. Simple and casual as usual.
He looks really good.
You take a small breath.
Okay… It's time to flirt, I guess.
You start to walk over to him but you stop.
Hana has got to him first.
Nobara might be wrong about this one. Maybe he’s playing hard to get with her? Maybe… Maybe..
“Hey pretty girl. Hello? Do you hear me or is the drink getting to you?”
An unfamiliar voice snaps you back to reality.
A guy stands close.
Too close.
“I'm sorry,” you spoke softly. “Were you talking to me?”
He smirks, leaning in, boxing you in against the bar.
“Who else would I be talking to, cutie?”
You squeal in shock.
You recognize him, someone from your major class.
And he’s definitely drunk, you can smell it on his breath.
“I like my girls squirmy.” he murmurs, leaning closer to your neck.
You stiffen, about to push him away, but suddenly, he’s yanked back.
A hand presses firmly against his chest.
Megumi.
“Do you know this guy?” he asks, eyes scanning you quickly, checking for any sign you’re hurt.
You clear your throat. “He’s in my class… just a bit drunk.”
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Megumi says coldly, looking at the guy.
“Oi!” the guy snaps. “ You’re ruining my chances man!”
Megumi exhales sharply, clearly disgusted, before wrapping an arm around your waist.
“Find someone else. She’s not interested.”
The guy backs off, disappearing into the crowd.
“I’m sorry,” you start softly. “You didn’t have to-”
“Come with me.”
His hand slips into yours, firm but gentle as he leads you away.
“I need to talk to you. Privately.”
Your heart jumps.
Ah! Not again… what is it this time?
You follow close behind him.
He leads you into a quiet library, closing the door behind you.
You look at the grand library then back to Megumi who looks tense.
Like he’s arguing with himself.
“Hey,” you say gently, taking his hand. “Are you okay? Do you feel sick? I have medicine if you’re-”
“I’m fine.”
A pause.
“I need to tell you something.”
Your heart drops.
Oh no. Did Yuji tell him? Is he about to reject me? What do I even say after that-
Before your thoughts can spiral further, he lifts your hand, pressing it lightly against his chest.
“I like you,” he says. “More than a friend.”
Everything goes quiet.
“I get it if you don’t feel the same, I just-”
You don’t let him finish.
Without a second thought you lean in and kiss his lips, quickly.
You pull back immediately, flustered.
“Oh my gosh! I’m sorry! I didn’t let you finish, I just needed to make sure this was real and I panicked and-”
He cuts you off.
Kissing you slowly and passionately.
His hands come up to cup your face, steadying you.
“You worry too much,” he murmurs against your lips. “I liked it.”
This is really happening! I feel myself melting!
He leans in again, deeper this time, pulling you gently back until your back presses against the door.
You gasp softly, and the kiss deepens just slightly, still gentle, but more certain.
When you finally pull away, your breath is uneven.
“Gumi…” you whisper. “H-how long have you liked me?”
“Since the opening game,” he answers, brushing a kiss against your cheek. “You?”
“Since the mall,” you admit, smiling shyly. “You looked… really handsome. And talking to you just made it worse.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.
“You make me happy,” he says simply.
You shake your head quickly.
“No. You make me happy. Every time I’m with you, I just… I learn more, and I feel-” you stop, laughing softly at yourself. “I just really like being around you.”
He smiles at that.
"Will you go out with me?"
You hesitate. Just for a moment.
“I’ve never been in a relationship before.”
“That’s fine,” he replies easily. “We’ll take it slow. Figure it out together.”
You nod, relief and happiness mixing together as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.
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