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heich0e · 9 months

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[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical traits, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

And a week after that terrible storm, Megumi pulls on his coat, locks up the clinic for the night, and heads to the nearby izakaya.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know her.”

Megumi deflates a little, leaning forward onto his elbows atop the service counter at the izakaya. The young man behind the bar looks sincerely apologetic that he can’t be of more help to him, a remorseful frown tugging at the corner of his lips.

“That’s fine,” Megumi says, smothering his burgeoning disappointment as best he can—blanketing it in a familiar air of indifference. “It was years ago.”

He’d asked for you when he arrived at the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant, having weaselled your family name out of Yuuji who’d in turn pressed Nanami for it—the elder man deeming a simple name suitably fair to share since it wasn’t particularly personal information, not least of all because he’s seemingly incapable of denying Yuuji anything he asks for. But the server who Megumi approached when he first arrived at the neighbourhood izakaya, the same establishment he’d visited with the old man all those years ago that hasn’t changed a bit since that day, didn’t seem to have any knowledge of you ever working there.

“I’ve only been here for a year,” the young man says, ruffling the back of his cropped hair sheepishly and glancing down the bar in the direction of the busy kitchen. “I could ask around, though? See if someone—”

“No, that’s alright,” Megumi cuts him off, bowing stiffly in his direction with his arms pinned down at his sides. “You’ve done more than enough. Thank you for your time.”

Megumi swiftly turns and heads in the direction of the door, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket. The izakaya is noisy around him as he crosses the restaurant towards the exit, full of people unwinding after a long day of work, sharing food and drinks and talking too loudly just to be heard over the cacophonous din. He’s never really liked the overly-boisterous atmosphere of these kinds of places, which is why he’s always preferred to drink at home—but every so often Yuuji or Nobara manages to draw him into an evening out at bars just like this one.

The man just wants to get back to his little apartment where he can enjoy some peace and quiet, and nurse the nagging feeling of disappointment he feels prickling in his hollow chest.

He’s only a few doors up the road from the building, making his way back in the direction of home, when he hears a ruckus behind him.

“Excuse me!… Excuse me, sir!”

Megumi pauses in his stride and glances back over his shoulder in the direction of the shouting, only to see the young man from behind the bar racing up the sidewalk towards him with his apron strings flapping in his haste. He’s a little winded by the time he reaches Megumi, hunching forward with his hands braced on his thighs atop the overhang of his apron as he struggles to catch his breath.

“The cook… said…”

Megumi can barely understand what the boy is trying to say to him. He’s a little concerned by how out of breath he is, too. After a few more seconds of panting heavily, the young man looks up.

“The cook said he knew her. The girl you’re looking for.”

Megumi’s eyes widen, his stomach doing an unpleasant little somersault in his core.

The server stands up straight, swallowing thickly. He’s more composed now after his sprint. He gives Megumi your name, your full name—both given and family—and Megumi recognizes it. “He said a student with that name worked here a few years ago, but she left when she got pregnant.”

Megumi’s hands clench into fists in the pockets of his coat.

The young man looks a bit sheepish. “I hope this helps. I don’t know if you remember, but you took good care of my family’s dog a few years ago at your clinic. I… wanted to repay you.” He bows earnestly in the vets direction, a full bend at his waist.

Megumi thinks he might vaguely remember him, though his hair was longer, he didn’t have the piercings in his ears, and his cheeks were rounder with baby fat back then. “Shino-kun?”

The boy lifts his head and nods eagerly, perking up at the recognition.

His family had an inordinately rotund dachshund named Vienna. Like the sausage.

“Thank you for your help,” Megumi says to him, and he means it.

Shino nods in recognition of the thanks.

Megumi moves to leave, but pauses. “The cook… does he have her contact info?”

The boy shakes his head, and Megumi feels that same flare of disappointment swell with renewed vigour, staring down at his feet on the pavement as he tries not to let it show. He supposes it would be strange to get that kind of information from him anyway. For all intents and purposes, he’s just some stranger trying to track a woman down, who in their right mind would—

“He said the last he heard she was working at the family restaurant a few blocks away, near the park—”

Megumi’s eyes snap up towards the server again.

“—do you know the one?”

Yes. He does.

The old man used to take him there sometimes for lunch when he was still working at the clinic, because Megumi had a tendency to skip his midday meal. The waitresses all knew the old man by name, and he’d told Megumi that he and his wife had their first date in that very restaurant decades prior. It’s an ancient little spot that’s been there for far longer than Megumi’s lived in the neighbourhood.

And he just so happens to have to pass it on his way back home.

The neon sign that hangs over the old family restaurant paints the evening street in its glow as Megumi stands outside the diner.

It’s late; encroaching on an hour that Nobara would affectionately call ‘past his bedtime’ since Megumi tends as a matter of habit to be a man who’s early to bed and early to rise. But regardless of the hour, Megumi can’t seem to make his feet carry him any further. Neither back to his home, nor through the business’s door.

Through one of the windows, past the reflective fluorescence from the lights outside, he sees you.

You’re standing at a table by the window, chatting with a couple whose meal you’ve just served. You have a smile on your face, but it’s not quite the smile that Megumi remembers—neither as bright, nor as carefree as the one in his memory. You don’t look the same either.

You’re older than you were back then—though certainly still not old by any means—but he supposes that’s only natural given how much time has passed since that first night he met you. He didn’t look at you properly that night you came to the clinic. Didn’t take the time to really observe you. All he can really remember is how soaking wet you were, and how you didn’t want to meet his gaze.

You meet it now.

You catch sight of him through the window just before you leave your patrons to enjoy their meal, and even from a distance Megumi can see the way your expression changes. He can see how startled you look as you catch sight of him.

You’re not wrong to look surprised, and he can’t help but blame you. He’s some man you’ve met twice now, the instances half a decade apart, who’s managed to track down your place of employment. But at the same time, Megumi can’t help but think that there’s a greater anxiety that underlies your wide-eyed expression—a more considerable fear that’s palpable, even from so far away.

You appear outside, wrapped up in a puffy jacket, a few minutes later.

“Hello, Fushiguro-san,” you greet him quietly, bowing a bit awkwardly in his direction.

He returns the greeting with your own name, and you look surprised that he knows it.

“What brings you here at this time of night?”

“Where’s Kota?” Megumi ignores your question in favour of one of his own.

Your lips pull into a thin line at the mention of your son.

“The obaachan who lives next door to us watches Kota when I work nights,” you say, and your tone is colder now. Sharpened like a blade you wield in defence.

An unpleasant silence wraps around you both, the discomfort and the tension of it nipping at your heels and urging you to run.

“That’s a lot of work for an old woman.”

“She’s happy to do it. Her children have all moved away,” you seem to only very narrowly be keeping resentment from your shaking voice.

“Why doesn’t Kota’s father watch him?” Megumi asks, and his gaze is level and unyielding as it meets your own.

Your jaw sets, and a flare of something white-hot and protective kindles behind your eyes.

“He can’t.”

A car passes on the street behind Megumi, but neither of you pay it any mind.

“Why?"

“He’s busy.”

“Too busy to take care of his own child?” Megumi isn’t trying to sound so angry, but the emotion makes itself known in his voice without even trying. He doesn’t mean to antagonize you like this. It’s not what he came here to do. But he can’t seem to force himself to be direct with you.

“Yes.”

“Doing what?” Megumi presses again, unrelenting in his pursuit.

“Drop it,” you tell him warningly, hissing the caution through your teeth.

He doesn’t heed your words.

“Where is Kota’s father?” he asks one final time, and it’s the question that makes the fraying thread of your patience finally snap.

“Bothering me outside my place of work,” you hiss, your eyes narrowed and resentful. “Is that what you came here for? Are you happy now?”

Happy?

Megumi feels sick to his stomach, an almighty fwoosh wracking through him that makes him go week at the knees and threatens to make him heave up the meagre contents of his stomach in front of you, and this street, and anyone who has the misfortune of a window seat in the diner behind you. But he feels worse still when he sees the way tears are welling quickly in your eyes. When he spots the way you’re trembling.

You’re frightened.

Of him.

“Please,” you soften noticeably before his eyes, like he watches all your will to fight with him abandon you in real time. The deflation leaves you desperate when you speak again, crumpling in on yourself. You step up to him slightly, grabbing the sleeve of his coat as you plead to him. “Just go. Forget this ever happened. I don’t want anything from you. We don’t want anything from you. I-I take good care of him; he’s happy and healthy and we’re fine. I’m sorry that you found out like this, but I promise if you just leave now you don’t ever have to think of him—things can go back to how they were, and I’ll make sure we never cross paths again.”

Megumi tastes bile creeping up at the back of his too-tight throat, and his vision has gone fuzzy at the edges like he’s watching everything unfold through a tunnel.

All he can think about it the little boy with the bunny hidden under his raincoat. The racoon on his sweatshirt. The way he clung to him in his sleep.

“He’s my son?”

You pause, still holding tight to Megumi’s coat sleeve.

“Yes,” you reply quietly. “He is.”

He searches your face for any sign of duplicity, but he knows the truth. He knew it before you said it. Knew it from the moment he woke up in that cold sweat.

“You’re certain?”

He doesn’t pose the question with any ill-intent. Hardly conscious of the fact he’s asking it at all, or what the implications of such a question might be.

You flinch anyway.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Another car passes.

“He’s my son.” This time it’s not a question, but the words are brittle and breathless as Megumi speaks them. His chest aches, his head is pounding.

You’re still clutching his sleeve.

From behind you, at the corner of the building that leads to a narrow alley, a man in a stained apron with a cigarette in his hand calls your name. You whirl around in surprise.

“Break’s over!” he calls to you with a hand clasped around his mouth. He eyes you and Megumi warily, as though assessing whether or not he needs to intervene.

“Coming!” you call back to him with a blatantly forced chipper tone, waving at him with a strained smile on your face.

You turn back to Megumi, and let his sleeve slip from your grasp. The fake smile withers slowly until it disappears altogether.

“Please,” you repeat to him one last time, quieter now that the line cook is still lingering nearby, but no less desperate. “Just forget about this. About us.”

You turn to head back towards the restaurant, and Megumi lets you go.

Until he doesn’t.

“Wait.”

You freeze, but you don’t turn to face him again. He can see the way you hold yourself around your midsection, your shoulders slightly hunched forward like you’re bracing yourself for something.

“Come to the clinic tomorrow.”

“I work tomorrow.”

“Then come before you work. Or after,” Megumi can’t help but sound irritated at your refusal. He has a right to ask you more questions. To get more answers.

You glance at him over your shoulder, and you look wary.

“Kota goes to daycare at 8. It’s not far,” you say, though your tone is reluctant. “I can come just after that.”

The clinic doesn’t open until 9, so that works for him.

He nods curtly in agreement, and then you do the same.

The cook calls your name again.

You step towards the restaurant.

“The bunny’s doing well.”

You pause in your stride and turn back to Megumi with a look of surprise on your face—the most open, and least defensive expression he’s seen since the two of you began speaking.

Megumi struggles to meet your gaze now, and looks away briefly. He stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“You can… tell Kota that. If you want.” He glances fleetingly towards you, just in time to see the ghost of a smile flicker at he corner of your lips.

“I will,” you reply quietly. “He’ll be happy to hear that. Thank you, Fushiguro-san.”

Megumi watches as you skitter back towards the restaurant, bowing apologetically to the cook as you head quickly down the alley towards what Megumi can only assume is the staff entrance.

He turns on his heel on the sidewalk and heads in the direction of home, ignoring the gaze of your colleague as he walks away.

A son.

He has a son.

A little boy who looks just like him.

A little boy named Kota.

Megumi still feels sick, and his head is spiralling with a hundred questions he can’t begin to understand how to parse through in a coherent way. A hundred things he never dreamed he’d need to know. Never wanted to.

But he’ll see you tomorrow at 8AM, so as long as he makes sense of at least a few of the unintelligible questions running through his mind by then, he’ll finally have the chance to get some answers.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #mini megumi #LOL i'm posting this because it's been written for weeks and i just want to get it off my hard drive feel free to ignore

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obey-me-headquarters · 11 months

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Impatience fills the air. Like a tiger ready to strike or a coiled band bending to break. The atmosphere hangs heavily between you, Cove, and Baxter.

It was a normal evening for the three of you, or as normal as your new relationship could be. An evening spent in and enjoying each other's cooking that started out playful slowly turned more and more heated as the night went on.

With the food eaten and the dishes being washed, the tension was palpable. Baxter is on washing duty, while Cove dries and you put the dishes away. Every touch as plants were passed lingered, and glances got more and more heated.

Finally, the band broke. Lunging forward, you grab Baxter by the collar and push him against the sink. He raises his eyebrows at the suddenness but melts into the kiss with a needy moan.

Cove sheepishly glances over his shoulder at the two of you, wet dish still in hand. His eagerness bleeding through, but his shyness halting him from making any sudden moves.

Your tongue slips into Baxter's willing mouth, welcomed with a needy moan. The both of you were nearly lost in your heated embrace. Tongues pressing against each other and hands desperately clenching clothing. Yet your mind couldn't help but wander to your other partner. A sidelong glance reveals Cove standing off to the side, wet dish in hand, his want so earnestly on display.

Well, that certainly wouldn't do.

Working on pure impulse, you grab onto Cove's shirt in a blind grab and pull him towards you. Breaking the kiss with Baxter, you swiftly direct your attention towards your sea formed haired lover. A startled squeak escapes his lips as you lean forward to press your lips against his.

Baxter observes you two through hooded eyes, slumped against the counter as he desperately tries to catch his breath.

"As fun as kissing in the kitchen is, do you mind if we take this a bit more comfortable?" Baxter asks.

You loathe to put an end to your sudden make-out session, but you could see the appeal of the suggestion. You didn't want one of the first times the three of you were intimate to be in a kitchen.

With a grumble, you lean away from Cove, who gives you a confused look.

"H-huh? We're- what?"

Obviously, he didn't hear what Baxter had suggestioned, to preoccupied with having your tongue down his throat. With a laugh, you pull Cove by the hand and grab Baxter's on your way, too.

It was a bit awkward trying to lead them both, but by Baxter's pleased snicker, you guess that the two of them made due. It wasn't long before the three of you arrived at your door, which you kicked out as you were out of hands to open it with.

"Um, I could have opened that for you." Cove states behind you.

Yet you pay him mind, quickly leading your two lovers towards the bed. Cove falls first onto it, and you halt Baxter with another kiss.

Grinning, he leans into it, and you push him into Cove's lap. Cove gratefully accepts his gift and wraps his lips around Baxter's neck while your own is still pressed against Baxter's. Trailing kisses up and down the shorter man's neck, Cove stops at his mole. Knowing that it's one of the most sensitive spots on his body, Cove ghosts his lips over the spot.

With a choked-off moan, Baxter gasps against your lips. An airly chuckle escapes your lips, and you ever so slightly lean away, just to enjoy the sight of Baxter squirming against Cove. The taller man was caging him in with his body, holding him against his chest as he teased the skin around Baxter's oh so sensitive mole. Baxter wasn't that short of a guy, but Cove was extremely tall, and he used every inch to his advantage as he held Baxter against him.

It was obviously doing something for Baxter, too, judging by the way he leaned back into the hold, as if he wanted to envelop fully. With a smirk, Baxter glances towards you, obviously wondering where you've gone, but not too disappointed with who you left him with.

Before he could say a no doubt sophisticated and playful remark, you leaned forward and captured his mouth in a kiss. Yet this kiss was less about getting acquainted with the inside of his mouth and more about exploration as your hands trail alongside his body.

Reaching his crotch your hands confidently pressed against it, earning your a groan from the monochromatic man, which you happily swallowed. Baxter was throughly overwhelmed sandwiched between you and Cove, a fact he was acutely aware of. When you leaned back to catch your breath, Baxter stammers out:

"Don't- don't you two want to enjoy each other's company a bit more?"

Grinning deviously at him, you very much did not. Content with overwhelming him with pleasure he never thought he would receive. Cove obviously had a similar thought as he reached around Baxter to undo his shirt buttons.

"No." He whispered bluntly into the shell of Baxter's ear, earning him a delicious shudder.

With a defeated sigh, Baxter relaxes into the hold. "Well, I wouldn't stop you two since you're so determined."

"Good, you couldn't if you tired." You reply with a grin before dropping to your knees.

Hastily, you grab onto Baxter's belt and loosen the buckle. Flinging it over your shoulder the moment it's loose enough you make quick work of the buttons and zipper, cursing yourself for not removing his clothing before sitting him down, but too impatient to stop now. With an annoyed grunt, you pull down his pants, not even bothering to remove them fully, and let them hang around his ankles.

Finally you see what you're been thinking about all night, Baxter's cock. Unfortunately, it's still clothed by his cute leaf boxers, but it's half hard and dripping, creating a wet patch. You knew that Baxter was needy, but you didn't know that a few kisses were all that was needed to get him this worked up.

Kissing the wet patch, Baxter bucks against you, almost hitting you in the face. Luckily you're able to lean back before he does.

"Sorry, th-that was rude of me. I just- hmp!" Baxter throws his head back with a moan as Cove sucks a hickey around his mole while his hands reach down to hold Baxter down.

"Don't worry, I'll keep him still for you." Cove states.

You know that Baxter isn't going anyway with Cove holding him down. His hard earned muscles he got from his summers of surfing being put to use as he holds Baxter tightly against him.

With a smirk you pull the leaf boxers down to his ankles, and enjoy the sight of Baxter's hard cock leaking against his stomach. Licking your lips you lean forward to give his slit a kiss, earning you a breathy groan.

Cove's hands wrap firmly around Baxter's thighs, spreading his legs for you and holding him in place.

"Good luck, you're going to need it." He says ominously into Baxter's ear.

"I- what?" Baxter asks confused, he's never been victim to your mouth on his cock before, unlike Cove who knew exactly what you're capable of.

Before he can get an answer, your lips wrap around his dick. You only take a moment to savor the taste of his precum and compare it to Cove's, before your tongue works its magic.

"Ugh! O-oh, my- hmp! Now wait just a- fuck!" Baxter throws his head back with a throaty groan. You're glad that Cove had the foresight to hold Baxter down, because the way he's thrashing right now would surely dislodge you from your spot. Fortunately, with his strong hold, Baxter remains held in place as you treat him to the otherworldly experience of your mouth.

No amount of squirming, thrashing, or withering could deter you, as Baxter quickly surmised, not that he stopped doing any of those things as you sucked. The moans and groans you pull out of him are entirely involuntary, as Baxter would prefer if you and Cove didn't hear such neediness from him so early into your relationship. But there was no helping it, and he quickly spilled a mix of "Please," "Oh god," and language you didn't think the normally sophisticated man would ever confess to knowing.

Cove decided that he wouldn't completely overwhelm the poor man, at least, not yet, and took a break from painting his neck with hickeys. Instead, he was content to watch Baxter lose all sense of composer against him.

"Fuck- please, oh God I can't!" Baxter moaned, and that was all the warning before he came into your mouth.

Normally, he was a lot more polite, warning about any spilling, but all sense of decency was clearly sucked out of him. You let yourself enjoy the unique taste of his spent before swallowing, mouth still wrapped around his dick. Baxter mewled softly at the sensation but was too worn to complain.

Leaning back you wipe all drool and uncaught cum from your chin with the back of the hand, and chuckled when you caught sight of Baxter.

You were getting used to seeing him more relaxed and messy, but you have yet to see just how far he could let himself go until now. He laid boneless in Cove's hold, the taller man's hold being the only thing keeping him unright. His eyes were glossed over and his pupils were so dilated that it made him look cat like. Mouth hanging slightly open, a few drops of drool spill down his chin.

Cove is no longer holding him so tightly, instead choosing a loser hold against his chest. Leaning down, he presses a kiss onto Baxter's forehead, and that seems to snap him out of his daze.

Looking down at you with hooded eyes accusatory, Baxter asks:

"Where in the world did you learn to do that with your tongue?"

#our life #our life beginnings & always #our life smut #our life baxter #our life cove #my post #i played Baxter's dlc and blacked out. when i awoke this was written. no but really i wrote half of this when it was extremely late #i know canonical Cove and Baxter dont get along too well but I CAN MAKE IT WORK I SWEAR #THE THREE OF YOU ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER. DO YOU SEE MY VISION??#ahem. anyway. Our Life!Mc has AMAZING head game. you know that trick where you tie a cherry steam in your mouth? they were shown that and #did first try. 'what. like. it's hard?'#the first time you sucked Cove off his dad was away on a business trip and Cove was STILL worried about making too much noise the neighbors #would hear.#i think this the most non dommy smut i wrote for a reader?? huh..anyway.#Cove is SO tall and it drives Baxter absolutely wild. trust me. im a trustworthy source.#baxter also has like absolutely no muscles lol the emo. Cove isnt jacked in my mind he just does a lot of swimming. so he can absolutely #pin Baxter and that also drives Baxter absolutely wild.#anyway. sorry for the Ramble. i have Thoughts as you can tell lol #would love Our Life requests!! dont worry im still working on Obey Me stuff

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