magicalmatcha

[magicalmatcha]

ik its a megumi fic but omg i love how caring yuuta is for yume and yn 😭

honestly if megumi keeps up the way he is it might just become a yuuta fic (jk that's literally his little sister he could never)

[magicalmatcha]

should i start mentally preparing myself for chapter 15 now or later

now

actually 15 might be chill it's 16 you should worry about (only a little)

[magicalmatcha]

yn when we said fuck him we didn’t mean to literally go fuck him STAND UP MY QUEEN STAND UPPP EMO BOYS ARE EVIL

i support her rights and wrongs

[magicalmatcha]

taglist 2: @cattyyyyy @qtnchuu @megumigooner @infinitylux3 @sugarcor3 @hiqhkey @aziaraei @pjmgojo @koopud @haithamsbb @lupicalbestwolf @mary0cartt @tinawhynot @satorupied @jvpit3rr @istoleyourcookies @sophiethelesbian @yeehawslap @kaidostwin @catyrv @xenop0p @choviiva

now playing ♪ streets by doja cat

"I can't sleep no more, in my head, we belong,

And I can't be without you, Why can't I find no one like you?"

cw: angst, self harm (?), very suggestive

The smell of smoke was the first thing she noticed.

Yn sat up abruptly, blinking through the haze of sleep still clinging to her. Her laptop buzzed faintly, some assignment long forgotten still open on the screen. Textbooks and half-scribbled notes were scattered like the aftermath of a small academic war, but none of that explained the sudden acrid scent curling under her door.

She bolted upright. “Maki?” she called, already standing.

No answer.

She cracked open her bedroom door and was immediately hit with a wave of gray smoke and the distant, very loud sound of the smoke alarm wailing its high-pitched misery. Yn coughed, squinting through the haze as she made her way to the kitchen.

Maki stood there, fanning the air with a cutting board, her face tight with panic.

“Don’t freak out,” she said flatly. “I had it under control.”

“The stove is literally on fire.”

“It was under control.”

Yuuta leaned against the wall, Yume perched on his hip, glitter stickers adorning his cheeks. “She was trying to flambé tofu,” he deadpanned, eyes fixed on the smoke curling from the stove. "I was trying to be gourmet!" She defended.

Yn sighed, eyes narrowing. “First, Yuuta, step away from the fire. You’re holding my child. Second, Maki, you step away from the fire.”

Maki nodded, retreating slowly from the scorched stove.

Yn marched to the pantry, grabbed the bright red fire extinguisher, and unleashed a quick spray over the flames until the fire hissed and died.

The four of them stood in silence, staring at the blackened stove and the singed cabinets above.

Yn finally broke the silence. “Who wants Italian?”

The room practically erupted.

“Yes, finally,” Maki groaned, already grabbing her phone to check the hours for that place with the weirdly good calamari.

“Do they still do the truffle pasta?” Yuuta asked, bouncing Yume gently as she pointed at his cheek. “Mama, I need more stickers,” she announced.

“We’re not bringing stickers to the restaurant,” Yn said, heading to grab her bag. “One of you get her shoes on.”

“Copy,” Yuuta said, shifting Yume into his arms like a football.

Shoes were found. Purses slung over shoulders. Yume was finally wearing matching socks. Maki was still trying to scrub the soot off her hands with a wet wipe she found in Yn’s bag.

“Okay,” Yn said, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Everybody ready?”

Yuuta opened the door, then froze.

Megumi stood on the other side, hoodie pushed back, hands in his pockets, like he’d been standing there for a while. He blinked at the sudden flurry of movement in the doorway: Maki with her car keys raised like a weapon, Yuuta attempted to block Yume with his body, and Yn staring him down with the kind of tired, sharp look that said: Not tonight.

“Uh,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Yn said immediately.

“We’re getting Italian,” Maki added, unhelpfully.

Megumi opened his mouth, closed it again, then glanced down at Yume, whose face lit up like a disco ball.

“Me-gummy!” she chirped.

Yuuta looked between the two of them, then stepped aside so Yume could wiggle out of his arms and run to Megumi’s legs.

Yn sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Just because you have my address doesn’t mean you can show up whenever you feel like it.”

Megumi looked up, gaze steady. “I need to talk to you.”

Maki took one step forward, keys jangling in her hand. “Cool. Come back when she wants to talk to you.”

“Maki,” Yn said sharply, raising a hand to stop her. She wasn’t in the mood to hold anyone back by the collar tonight. Not with the stench of burnt tofu still lingering in the air and half a fire extinguisher’s worth of foam in the kitchen.

Maki’s mouth opened again, clearly not finished, but Yn cut her off.

“Go ahead. All of you. Order me the usual, I’ll catch up later.”

Yuuta looked hesitant, gaze flicking between the two of them, but Maki had already grabbed Yume and was heading toward the stairs like she couldn’t wait to physically remove herself from the awkward tension cloud.

“You sure?” Yuuta asked, lingering by the door.

“I’m fine,” Yn said, not looking at Megumi.

He didn’t say anything either, just stepped inside as the door shut behind them.

The silence stretched thin the moment the door clicked shut behind them.

Yn crossed her arms and leaned her weight into the edge of the counter, eyes trained on a crack in the tile. Her jaw was tight, unreadable. Megumi stood a few feet away, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he could physically hold back all the things he wasn’t sure how to say.

She didn’t speak first. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He knew better by now.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he started, voice quieter than she expected. “That day, in your kitchen.”

Yn blinked slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. You say a lot of dumb shit in my kitchen.”

“I’m talking about the ‘I’m in love with you’ part,” he said plainly. “That.”

“Oh.” She said it flatly, like he’d just reminded her the trash needed to be taken out. “Right. That.”

“I wasn’t trying to… mess with your head.” His voice was stiff, but there was a note of guilt in it. “I just—Yume said something, and it slipped. I didn’t mean for you to spiral like that.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Yn looked up now, sharp-eyed. “That’s your apology?”

“I’m not apologizing for how I feel,” he said quickly. “But I am sorry for how I handled it. For making it your problem. That wasn’t fair.”

“No,” she agreed, bitter. “It wasn’t.”

Another beat of silence passed between them before he took a tentative step closer. “I didn’t come here to rehash that, though. I came because—”

“If you’re about to tell me you’re in love with me again, I swear to God—”

“I’m not.” He almost smiled, but it faded too quickly. “I’m here for Yume.”

That shut her up.

“I want to be in her life,” he said. “Not just sometimes. Not just the fun stuff. I want to be there for the dentist appointments and school projects and whatever sport she decides she wants to. I want to show up, and stay.”

Yn exhaled slowly. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know.” He paused. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

She studied him, trying to pick apart what was real and what was convenient guilt. “Why now?”

“Because I didn’t think I deserved it before,” he admitted. “I thought maybe you were right. That I’d ruin her. That I’d ruin you. And maybe I still could. But the other day, when she held my hand and told me she wanted me around forever…” He swallowed. “I think that has to mean something.”

Yn’s face stayed unreadable, eyes locked on his, guarded as ever. She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no.

But she also didn’t tell him to leave.

Instead, she nodded once, slow, reluctant.

“You can start by helping me clean the kitchen,” she said quietly. “Maki tried to flambé tofu and now our stove is ruined."

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ll grab the gloves.”

The kitchen still smelled faintly like burnt soy sauce and shame.

Megumi rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he grabbed a sponge from the sink, cautiously eyeing the scorched stovetop. Is being attracted to someone's forearms normal? “This is impressive,” he muttered. “I didn’t know tofu could burn like this.”

Yn huffed a short laugh, wiping at the soot stains on the backsplash with a damp towel. “It’s Maki. She could set a salad on fire if you let her.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, the clatter of dishes and the soft hiss of water filling the gaps between them. It wasn’t comfortable, at least not at first, but it was familiar. Something old in a new skin.

Megumi glanced over as she scrubbed a stubborn spot on the counter, the sleeves of her tank top slipping down her arm, hair tied back. Exhaustion was written all over her face, but it didn’t dull her. Not really.

She was still so beautiful, it was painful.

“I should apologize for the timing,” he said. “It wasn’t fair. To throw that at you in front of her. Especially when you didn’t ask for it.”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it?” Her voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. “You give me half-truths. Then leave me to put the pieces together.”

Megumi nodded, throat tightening. “I know.”

She scrubbed harder at the stove. “Do you?”

He crossed the room, gently took the rag from her hands, and tossed it aside. She tensed, but didn’t pull away.

“You deserve more than half-truths,” he said. “I just… didn’t know how to explain myself after what I did. After how I left.”

Yn scoffed quietly. “You didn’t leave, Megumi. You disappeared. You ghosted me. Blocked me. Like I was a mistake you needed to erase.”

Her voice cracked. Just slightly.

Megumi leaned against the counter beside her, arms folded. “I was scared.”

“What of me?” she rolled his eyes, turning to meet him. “You were scared, so you left me? Left us?”

“I didn’t know about Yume.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she bit out. “You didn’t just leave a baby. You left me. And I wasn’t pregnant yet. I was just me. And I guess you decided I was too messy to keep around.”

He flinched.

“You think I don’t know what people said? That I was too unstable. Too impulsive. Too much? You think I don't know Gojo told you I’d hold you back? That I was the kind of girl who’d derail your future? I'm not stupid I can figure it out Fushiguro."

“Stop,” he said, voice low. “That’s not what happened.”

“You didn’t even fight for me,” she continued. “You left so easily, it made me think… you must’ve been waiting for the excuse.”

She turned back to the sink. Her hands were wet, scrubbing at a plate that was already clean, like if she scrubbed hard enough she could erase what she just said. He watched the way her shoulders shook slightly, the clatter of ceramic masked by the running tap.

Megumi sat down heavily at the small kitchen table.

“And then you come in here with this—this ‘I love you’ bullshit like it’s a magic eraser for everything you broke.”

She paused, breath catching, but didn’t look at him.

“Give me a fucking break, Fushiguro,” she said bitterly. “You don’t leave the people you love. You don’t disappear and then come back with a damn espresso machine and a new haircut expecting things to just go back.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

“I forgave you by the way,” she cut in, louder now. “Don't know if I ever told you that. As much as you annoy me, as angry as you make me… I forgave you a long time ago.”

She finally turned around to face him, arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable. “But don’t confuse forgiveness with trust. That’s not something you get to just ask for back. Not after what you did.”

He looked up at her, searching her eyes for something, anger, heartbreak, anything he could hold in his hands and understand. But she gave him nothing. She was doing that thing again, the one where she turned herself into stone before she shattered.

Silence pressed thick between them. The air in the kitchen felt hotter now, tighter, like it knew something was about to give.

Yn’s voice, when she spoke again, was barely above a whisper. “You left because I was too much to love. Like everyone else did."

“No,” he said, standing now. “I left because I was broken too. But your cracks were showing and mine weren’t, so everyone treated you like the mess and me like the one worth protecting.”

Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t look away.

“I thought loving you meant I had to fix you,” he said. “I was wrong. I don’t want to fix you, Yn. I just want you. However you come. Whatever that looks like.”

He took a step toward her, slow and cautious. She didn’t move. His voice dropped again, softer this time.

“I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

She shook her head once. Not in disagreement, more like disbelief. Her arms dropped to her sides, fists unclenching.

She shook her head once, hard. Not in refusal, but like she was trying to shake the words off her skin.

“Stop it,” she snapped, her voice cracking under the weight. “Stop saying that. You don’t mean it, you don’t.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, then turned on herself. She dug her nails into her arms, clawing so deep her skin began to tear.

“You just feel guilty. You won’t want me when I can’t be good enough,” she bit out. “When I’m not perfect enough for your stupid, clean-cut life you’ve built without me.” Blood began to draw.

He surged forward before she could go further, grabbing her wrists gently but firmly. “Hey—hey. Yn.”

Her eyes were wide, glassy, breathing fast like panic was clawing up her throat.

“I don’t want perfect,” he said. “I just want real. I just want you.

They stood there, breathing, the only sound between them the low hum of the fridge and the faint buzz of the hallway light.

“Say something,” he pleaded.

She didn’t. She just reached for him, slowly, deliberately, and cupped his face like it was something fragile. Something precious. Like she was afraid of breaking him this time.

“You broke something in me,” she whispered, leaning closer. “And I still want you, it's like an ache I can't kill."

"Even though I know you'll leave again. When things get hard. You won't want this anymore. I'm such a moron."

He stepped closer. Just an inch. “I will.”

“You won’t,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll get tired. Everyone does.”

“I’m still here.”

“You won’t be for long.”

And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was quick. Barely a second. Just lips on lips, careful and tentative and trembling.

He pulled back fast, like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he knew he’d fucked up.

“I—fuck, I shouldn’t have—” he turned toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push—”

He turned to leave, shame already blooming low in his stomach.

But her hand fisted his shirt.

And when she yanked him back, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It was hungry.

She crashed her mouth to his like she was starving.

He didn’t even think—just caught her waist and shoved her up against the counter, lifting her like muscle memory. Her legs wrapped around him without a word, locking him there.

She kissed him hard, teeth catching his lip, tongue sweeping into his mouth. Like she was picking up where they left off years ago.

He groaned into her mouth when she ground against him, slow and cruel, hips tilted just right to make him lose focus. His hands slipped beneath her tank top, fingers skimming hot skin and lace.

“You still want me?” he whispered against her neck, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“You know I never stopped,” she muttered, dragging her nails down the back of his neck.

“I had hoped,” he said, rocking into her again.

Her head tilted back, exposing her throat, a breathy sound escaping her lips when he mouthed at her skin. He bit down gently, just enough to leave a mark.

“I should go,” he whispered into her pulse. “I came to apologize.”

“You did a shit job,” she gasped, as his hands tugged her hips closer, flush against him. "All you did was eye fuck me the whole time."

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugged just enough to make him groan again. "What? You're hard already Gumi Bear?"

He slid her shirt up, lips dragging along her stomach, and she hissed when his teeth grazed her skin. Her thighs locked tighter around him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You going to stop?”

“I should,” he muttered, mouth ghosting over her collarbone.

“But you won’t.”

He shook his head.

“Pathetic,” she said, but there was no bite to it, just breathlessness, just want.

She gasped when he licked the place just below her ear, that spot, and his hands gripped her tighter.

“You like that?” he said, voice gravel.

“Don’t pretend you forgot what I like.”

He didn’t. Her body still haunted him. Every gasp, every bruise, every time she’d ever said right there, don’t stop.

“Do you still fuck your fist and pretend it’s me?” she asked, all honey and venom, a smirk curling her lips. “Or is it the way I begged that keeps you up at night?"

“Don’t do this,” he said, but his hands were already back under her shirt, thumbs brushing over the underside of her breasts.

“I’m not doing anything you don’t want. I know you miss it Gumi, the way I'd get on my knees for you, the way I'd cry your name right before I came. You always loved that didn't you? You're so pitiful."

She kissed him again, slow and dirty this time. Like punishment. Like foreplay.

When he pulled her shirt off, her breath hitched, but her hands were already under his hoodie, sliding it up, palms dragging over toned muscle.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and his mouth was on hers again, greedy and hot, teeth clashing.

And when he slipped a hand beneath her waistband, just barely, just enough to make her gasp and arch forward, she broke the kiss with a soft, trembling exhale.

“This means nothing,” she whispered, even as her fingers fumbled with his belt.

He rested his forehead against hers, panting. “I know.”

extra! extra! read all about it! (no seriously read it)

“Stop,” he said, voice low. “That’s not what happened.” I want you to know this man lies so hard throughout this chapter.

I also couldn't find a good song for this chapter lmao

I can't write smut or anything close to it if you can't tell so this is also not proofread bc I'll cringe

Yn never made it to the restaurant but they just assumed she had another breakdown after talking to Megumi especially since they heard grunting and sobs coming out of her room

I keep using white skinned placeholders and I'm sorry for that. Ima try to mix it up in the future

If you see your name in the taglist and it's not highlighted like the others please check your settings

Megumi finds Makima from chainsaw man attractive. If that says anything about him to you.

Also don't ask me when I'm updating, 1. I just do it when I feel like it 2. It lwk just discourages me, I usually tell you guys myself when I'm about to update or working on one

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[magicalmatcha]

now playing ♪ streets by doja cat

"I can't sleep no more, in my head, we belong,

And I can't be without you, Why can't I find no one like you?"

cw: angst, self harm (?), very suggestive

The smell of smoke was the first thing she noticed.

Yn sat up abruptly, blinking through the haze of sleep still clinging to her. Her laptop buzzed faintly, some assignment long forgotten still open on the screen. Textbooks and half-scribbled notes were scattered like the aftermath of a small academic war, but none of that explained the sudden acrid scent curling under her door.

She bolted upright. “Maki?” she called, already standing.

No answer.

She cracked open her bedroom door and was immediately hit with a wave of gray smoke and the distant, very loud sound of the smoke alarm wailing its high-pitched misery. Yn coughed, squinting through the haze as she made her way to the kitchen.

Maki stood there, fanning the air with a cutting board, her face tight with panic.

“Don’t freak out,” she said flatly. “I had it under control.”

“The stove is literally on fire.”

“It was under control.”

Yuuta leaned against the wall, Yume perched on his hip, glitter stickers adorning his cheeks. “She was trying to flambé tofu,” he deadpanned, eyes fixed on the smoke curling from the stove. "I was trying to be gourmet!" She defended.

Yn sighed, eyes narrowing. “First, Yuuta, step away from the fire. You’re holding my child. Second, Maki, you step away from the fire.”

Maki nodded, retreating slowly from the scorched stove.

Yn marched to the pantry, grabbed the bright red fire extinguisher, and unleashed a quick spray over the flames until the fire hissed and died.

The four of them stood in silence, staring at the blackened stove and the singed cabinets above.

Yn finally broke the silence. “Who wants Italian?”

The room practically erupted.

“Yes, finally,” Maki groaned, already grabbing her phone to check the hours for that place with the weirdly good calamari.

“Do they still do the truffle pasta?” Yuuta asked, bouncing Yume gently as she pointed at his cheek. “Mama, I need more stickers,” she announced.

“We’re not bringing stickers to the restaurant,” Yn said, heading to grab her bag. “One of you get her shoes on.”

“Copy,” Yuuta said, shifting Yume into his arms like a football.

Shoes were found. Purses slung over shoulders. Yume was finally wearing matching socks. Maki was still trying to scrub the soot off her hands with a wet wipe she found in Yn’s bag.

“Okay,” Yn said, adjusting the strap of her bag. “Everybody ready?”

Yuuta opened the door, then froze.

Megumi stood on the other side, hoodie pushed back, hands in his pockets, like he’d been standing there for a while. He blinked at the sudden flurry of movement in the doorway: Maki with her car keys raised like a weapon, Yuuta attempted to block Yume with his body, and Yn staring him down with the kind of tired, sharp look that said: Not tonight.

“Uh,” he said.

“Absolutely not,” Yn said immediately.

“We’re getting Italian,” Maki added, unhelpfully.

Megumi opened his mouth, closed it again, then glanced down at Yume, whose face lit up like a disco ball.

“Me-gummy!” she chirped.

Yuuta looked between the two of them, then stepped aside so Yume could wiggle out of his arms and run to Megumi’s legs.

Yn sighed, dragging a hand down her face. “Just because you have my address doesn’t mean you can show up whenever you feel like it.”

Megumi looked up, gaze steady. “I need to talk to you.”

Maki took one step forward, keys jangling in her hand. “Cool. Come back when she wants to talk to you.”

“Maki,” Yn said sharply, raising a hand to stop her. She wasn’t in the mood to hold anyone back by the collar tonight. Not with the stench of burnt tofu still lingering in the air and half a fire extinguisher’s worth of foam in the kitchen.

Maki’s mouth opened again, clearly not finished, but Yn cut her off.

“Go ahead. All of you. Order me the usual, I’ll catch up later.”

Yuuta looked hesitant, gaze flicking between the two of them, but Maki had already grabbed Yume and was heading toward the stairs like she couldn’t wait to physically remove herself from the awkward tension cloud.

“You sure?” Yuuta asked, lingering by the door.

“I’m fine,” Yn said, not looking at Megumi.

He didn’t say anything either, just stepped inside as the door shut behind them.

The silence stretched thin the moment the door clicked shut behind them.

Yn crossed her arms and leaned her weight into the edge of the counter, eyes trained on a crack in the tile. Her jaw was tight, unreadable. Megumi stood a few feet away, hands shoved deep into his pockets like he could physically hold back all the things he wasn’t sure how to say.

She didn’t speak first. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him. He knew better by now.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said,” he started, voice quieter than she expected. “That day, in your kitchen.”

Yn blinked slowly, lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re gonna have to be more specific. You say a lot of dumb shit in my kitchen.”

“I’m talking about the ‘I’m in love with you’ part,” he said plainly. “That.”

“Oh.” She said it flatly, like he’d just reminded her the trash needed to be taken out. “Right. That.”

“I wasn’t trying to… mess with your head.” His voice was stiff, but there was a note of guilt in it. “I just—Yume said something, and it slipped. I didn’t mean for you to spiral like that.”

“You didn’t mean to?” Yn looked up now, sharp-eyed. “That’s your apology?”

“I’m not apologizing for how I feel,” he said quickly. “But I am sorry for how I handled it. For making it your problem. That wasn’t fair.”

“No,” she agreed, bitter. “It wasn’t.”

Another beat of silence passed between them before he took a tentative step closer. “I didn’t come here to rehash that, though. I came because—”

“If you’re about to tell me you’re in love with me again, I swear to God—”

“I’m not.” He almost smiled, but it faded too quickly. “I’m here for Yume.”

That shut her up.

“I want to be in her life,” he said. “Not just sometimes. Not just the fun stuff. I want to be there for the dentist appointments and school projects and whatever sport she decides she wants to. I want to show up, and stay.”

Yn exhaled slowly. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know.” He paused. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not again.”

She studied him, trying to pick apart what was real and what was convenient guilt. “Why now?”

“Because I didn’t think I deserved it before,” he admitted. “I thought maybe you were right. That I’d ruin her. That I’d ruin you. And maybe I still could. But the other day, when she held my hand and told me she wanted me around forever…” He swallowed. “I think that has to mean something.”

Yn’s face stayed unreadable, eyes locked on his, guarded as ever. She didn’t say yes. She didn’t say no.

But she also didn’t tell him to leave.

Instead, she nodded once, slow, reluctant.

“You can start by helping me clean the kitchen,” she said quietly. “Maki tried to flambé tofu and now our stove is ruined."

His shoulders relaxed slightly. “I’ll grab the gloves.”

The kitchen still smelled faintly like burnt soy sauce and shame.

Megumi rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he grabbed a sponge from the sink, cautiously eyeing the scorched stovetop. Is being attracted to someone's forearms normal? “This is impressive,” he muttered. “I didn’t know tofu could burn like this.”

Yn huffed a short laugh, wiping at the soot stains on the backsplash with a damp towel. “It’s Maki. She could set a salad on fire if you let her.”

They worked in silence for a few minutes, the clatter of dishes and the soft hiss of water filling the gaps between them. It wasn’t comfortable, at least not at first, but it was familiar. Something old in a new skin.

Megumi glanced over as she scrubbed a stubborn spot on the counter, the sleeves of her tank top slipping down her arm, hair tied back. Exhaustion was written all over her face, but it didn’t dull her. Not really.

She was still so beautiful, it was painful.

“I should apologize for the timing,” he said. “It wasn’t fair. To throw that at you in front of her. Especially when you didn’t ask for it.”

“That’s what you do, isn’t it?” Her voice was soft, but there was steel underneath. “You give me half-truths. Then leave me to put the pieces together.”

Megumi nodded, throat tightening. “I know.”

She scrubbed harder at the stove. “Do you?”

He crossed the room, gently took the rag from her hands, and tossed it aside. She tensed, but didn’t pull away.

“You deserve more than half-truths,” he said. “I just… didn’t know how to explain myself after what I did. After how I left.”

Yn scoffed quietly. “You didn’t leave, Megumi. You disappeared. You ghosted me. Blocked me. Like I was a mistake you needed to erase.”

Her voice cracked. Just slightly.

Megumi leaned against the counter beside her, arms folded. “I was scared.”

“What of me?” she rolled his eyes, turning to meet him. “You were scared, so you left me? Left us?”

“I didn’t know about Yume.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she bit out. “You didn’t just leave a baby. You left me. And I wasn’t pregnant yet. I was just me. And I guess you decided I was too messy to keep around.”

He flinched.

“You think I don’t know what people said? That I was too unstable. Too impulsive. Too much? You think I don't know Gojo told you I’d hold you back? That I was the kind of girl who’d derail your future? I'm not stupid I can figure it out Fushiguro."

“Stop,” he said, voice low. “That’s not what happened.”

“You didn’t even fight for me,” she continued. “You left so easily, it made me think… you must’ve been waiting for the excuse.”

She turned back to the sink. Her hands were wet, scrubbing at a plate that was already clean, like if she scrubbed hard enough she could erase what she just said. He watched the way her shoulders shook slightly, the clatter of ceramic masked by the running tap.

Megumi sat down heavily at the small kitchen table.

“And then you come in here with this—this ‘I love you’ bullshit like it’s a magic eraser for everything you broke.”

She paused, breath catching, but didn’t look at him.

“Give me a fucking break, Fushiguro,” she said bitterly. “You don’t leave the people you love. You don’t disappear and then come back with a damn espresso machine and a new haircut expecting things to just go back.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s not—”

“I forgave you by the way,” she cut in, louder now. “Don't know if I ever told you that. As much as you annoy me, as angry as you make me… I forgave you a long time ago.”

She finally turned around to face him, arms crossed over her chest, her expression unreadable. “But don’t confuse forgiveness with trust. That’s not something you get to just ask for back. Not after what you did.”

He looked up at her, searching her eyes for something, anger, heartbreak, anything he could hold in his hands and understand. But she gave him nothing. She was doing that thing again, the one where she turned herself into stone before she shattered.

Silence pressed thick between them. The air in the kitchen felt hotter now, tighter, like it knew something was about to give.

Yn’s voice, when she spoke again, was barely above a whisper. “You left because I was too much to love. Like everyone else did."

“No,” he said, standing now. “I left because I was broken too. But your cracks were showing and mine weren’t, so everyone treated you like the mess and me like the one worth protecting.”

Her eyes glistened, but she didn’t look away.

“I thought loving you meant I had to fix you,” he said. “I was wrong. I don’t want to fix you, Yn. I just want you. However you come. Whatever that looks like.”

He took a step toward her, slow and cautious. She didn’t move. His voice dropped again, softer this time.

“I still love you. I don’t think I ever stopped.”

She shook her head once. Not in disagreement, more like disbelief. Her arms dropped to her sides, fists unclenching.

She shook her head once, hard. Not in refusal, but like she was trying to shake the words off her skin.

“Stop it,” she snapped, her voice cracking under the weight. “Stop saying that. You don’t mean it, you don’t.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides, then turned on herself. She dug her nails into her arms, clawing so deep her skin began to tear.

“You just feel guilty. You won’t want me when I can’t be good enough,” she bit out. “When I’m not perfect enough for your stupid, clean-cut life you’ve built without me.” Blood began to draw.

He surged forward before she could go further, grabbing her wrists gently but firmly. “Hey—hey. Yn.”

Her eyes were wide, glassy, breathing fast like panic was clawing up her throat.

“I don’t want perfect,” he said. “I just want real. I just want you.

They stood there, breathing, the only sound between them the low hum of the fridge and the faint buzz of the hallway light.

“Say something,” he pleaded.

She didn’t. She just reached for him, slowly, deliberately, and cupped his face like it was something fragile. Something precious. Like she was afraid of breaking him this time.

“You broke something in me,” she whispered, leaning closer. “And I still want you, it's like an ache I can't kill."

"Even though I know you'll leave again. When things get hard. You won't want this anymore. I'm such a moron."

He stepped closer. Just an inch. “I will.”

“You won’t,” she said, shaking her head. “You’ll get tired. Everyone does.”

“I’m still here.”

“You won’t be for long.”

And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was quick. Barely a second. Just lips on lips, careful and tentative and trembling.

He pulled back fast, like he hadn’t meant to do it. Like he knew he’d fucked up.

“I—fuck, I shouldn’t have—” he turned toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push—”

He turned to leave, shame already blooming low in his stomach.

But her hand fisted his shirt.

And when she yanked him back, it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t romantic. It was hungry.

She crashed her mouth to his like she was starving.

He didn’t even think—just caught her waist and shoved her up against the counter, lifting her like muscle memory. Her legs wrapped around him without a word, locking him there.

She kissed him hard, teeth catching his lip, tongue sweeping into his mouth. Like she was picking up where they left off years ago.

He groaned into her mouth when she ground against him, slow and cruel, hips tilted just right to make him lose focus. His hands slipped beneath her tank top, fingers skimming hot skin and lace.

“You still want me?” he whispered against her neck, lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“You know I never stopped,” she muttered, dragging her nails down the back of his neck.

“I had hoped,” he said, rocking into her again.

Her head tilted back, exposing her throat, a breathy sound escaping her lips when he mouthed at her skin. He bit down gently, just enough to leave a mark.

“I should go,” he whispered into her pulse. “I came to apologize.”

“You did a shit job,” she gasped, as his hands tugged her hips closer, flush against him. "All you did was eye fuck me the whole time."

She hooked her fingers into the waistband of his jeans, tugged just enough to make him groan again. "What? You're hard already Gumi Bear?"

He slid her shirt up, lips dragging along her stomach, and she hissed when his teeth grazed her skin. Her thighs locked tighter around him.

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You going to stop?”

“I should,” he muttered, mouth ghosting over her collarbone.

“But you won’t.”

He shook his head.

“Pathetic,” she said, but there was no bite to it, just breathlessness, just want.

She gasped when he licked the place just below her ear, that spot, and his hands gripped her tighter.

“You like that?” he said, voice gravel.

“Don’t pretend you forgot what I like.”

He didn’t. Her body still haunted him. Every gasp, every bruise, every time she’d ever said right there, don’t stop.

“Do you still fuck your fist and pretend it’s me?” she asked, all honey and venom, a smirk curling her lips. “Or is it the way I begged that keeps you up at night?"

“Don’t do this,” he said, but his hands were already back under her shirt, thumbs brushing over the underside of her breasts.

“I’m not doing anything you don’t want. I know you miss it Gumi, the way I'd get on my knees for you, the way I'd cry your name right before I came. You always loved that didn't you? You're so pitiful."

She kissed him again, slow and dirty this time. Like punishment. Like foreplay.

When he pulled her shirt off, her breath hitched, but her hands were already under his hoodie, sliding it up, palms dragging over toned muscle.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and his mouth was on hers again, greedy and hot, teeth clashing.

And when he slipped a hand beneath her waistband, just barely, just enough to make her gasp and arch forward, she broke the kiss with a soft, trembling exhale.

“This means nothing,” she whispered, even as her fingers fumbled with his belt.

He rested his forehead against hers, panting. “I know.”

extra! extra! read all about it! (no seriously read it)

“Stop,” he said, voice low. “That’s not what happened.” I want you to know this man lies so hard throughout this chapter.

I also couldn't find a good song for this chapter lmao

I can't write smut or anything close to it if you can't tell so this is also not proofread bc I'll cringe

Yn never made it to the restaurant but they just assumed she had another breakdown after talking to Megumi especially since they heard grunting and sobs coming out of her room

I keep using white skinned placeholders and I'm sorry for that. Ima try to mix it up in the future

If you see your name in the taglist and it's not highlighted like the others please check your settings

Megumi finds Makima from chainsaw man attractive. If that says anything about him to you.

Also don't ask me when I'm updating, 1. I just do it when I feel like it 2. It lwk just discourages me, I usually tell you guys myself when I'm about to update or working on one

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[magicalmatcha]

how maki and yn should pull up on megumi next chap

Did you hack my account? How'd you leak chapter 14 already

[magicalmatcha]

TAKE ME TO YOUR BEST FRIEND'S HOUSE

Pairings: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne x fem! reader.

Summary: So, he might be going against "bro code". He can't help it, though; his best friend's sibling is just too cute.

A/N: Reader can be imagined as biological/adopted/found family.

DICK GRAYSON & WALLY WEST

How Dick hadn't learnt to not leave his phone unattended was beyond Wally, especially when, for a vigilante, the man had such lax security for his personal phone. Nor should he have ever trusted Wally with the password.

Already drafting his absolute PR nightmare tweet on Dick's account, he's mentally rubbing his evil little hands together when his thumb hits the banner notification that pops up on the top of the screen.

My Heart: Thinking about you, come home soon xo

Alongside the text is a photo, a very suggestive photo of a woman dressed in nothing but one of Dick's hoodies. Wally knows because he bought Dick that hoodie, he's also very familiar with the woman in the photo on account of it being his baby sister.

He shrieks, the phone slipping from his slack with shock grip and landing on his big toe.

He doesn't hear the ringtone over his sudden stream of pained expletives, hopping on one foot, until he hears your voice from the speaker.

"Hey babe! You left your hoodie at - "

"YOU!" Wally screams, blubbering incoherently, pointing an accusing finger at the phone like you can see him.

"Jesus Christ," he can practically see you recoiling away from your phone, "Wally?" You've heard enough of your brother's meltdowns over the years that you can recognise him from just a single word.

"YOU, YOU - YOU HARLOT!" You snort at his words, staying silent until his stream of consciousness is finished.

"You done?" You hum, completely unphased at the tantrum Wally's just thrown for the past seven minutes.

"Am I, am I done? No, I'm not done." He squawks, "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!" There's a beat of incredulous silence on your end.

"Excuse me? What have I done to you?"

"DEFILED THE SACRED BOND OF BROTHERHOOD IS WHAT YOU'VE DONE, HE'S MY BEST FRIEND"

"The sacred bond of brotherhood? I'm your fucking sibling, you're supposed to attack him, not me!" Wally can't help but notice how you don't deny his words.

"Oh, believe me, Dickhead is gonna get what's coming to him."

"Yeah, whatever, I'm hanging up now, tell Dick I'm getting pizza for dinner."

"Don't you dare - " He doesn't even get to finish his sentence before you've followed through.

"Hey Wally, have you seen my ... phone?" Dick trails off as he spots the item he's looking for in his agitated friend's hand.

"You don’t fuck your best friends younger sibling. That’s like the number one rule of bro code!” Wally shrieked, not greeting him like a normal person, and not giving Dick even a second to realise what was happening before he was being grabbed and shaken by his shoulders.

"I love her." No explanation, no apologies, just pure earnestness and the softest look Wally had ever seen on his friend's face.

The declaration takes all the wind out of his sails, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He drags a hand down his face slowly,

Finally, he groaned and dragged both hands down his face. "Ugh. I hate that you’re so genuine. It ruins my ability to stay mad. Barry's not going to be happy you kept this from him though."

The mental image of the Flash going protective uncle giving him the slightest bit of sick satisfaction, until Dick shatters his dreams by casually saying, "he already knows."

"He what?! Am I the last to know?" Dick makes a show of thinking about it before shrugging with an unapologetic grin.

"Kinda, yeah."

"I'M SURROUNDED BY TRAITORS!" Wally yells, sinking to his knees in defeat.

JASON TODD & ROY HARPER

Nobody had ever accused Roy of being a detective. He might not be as smart as the bats (an impossible hurdle in Roy's opinion), but he wasn't completely fucking stupid.

An unfortunate reality for his sister, who he'd caught sneaking into the Titans Tower at the ripe time of 4:47 am, wearing a familiar leather jacket with a bullet hole in the sleeve. A jacket that could only mean one of two things.

You had joined a biker gang.

You were dating Jason Todd, AKA, his best friend, AKA dead fucking meat.

Because while option one terrified him, he'd still prefer it to the option he had a sinking suspicion about was actually correct.

The next afternoon, he finds Jason working out in the Tower's gym, and he grins wickedly. Bastard didn't even have to make Roy track him down.

"Hey, Roy." Jason greets, never once faltering in his reps, entirely unbothered, like he hadn’t committed emotional treason.

Roy thinks he could be forgiven for his following action, he could have done a lot worse than picking up the nearest kettlebell and throwing it at his unsuspecting friend.

"WHAT THE FUCK ROY?" Jason screeched as he dove for cover.

"YOU’RE DATING MY SISTER?!"

"Um, what?" He squeaks, before clearing his throat, "I mean... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't try to gaslight me!" Roy jabbed a finger at him, seething. "You're supposed to be my best friend, and you went and... and started... canoodling my sister."

Jason’s brows shot up in amusement despite himself. "Canoodling?"

"Don't try and deflect either." Roy flushed as red as his hair.

"I’m not—well. Okay. I am. But in my defense, it wasn’t like I planned to fall for your sister."

"Have you kissed?"

Jason contemplates lying but bites the bullet and nods.

Roy gasped like an old lady hearing someone say cunt. "ON PURPOSE?!"

Jason gave him a flat look. "No, Roy, I tripped and fell. Of course, it was on purpose. More than once, too." He smirks, unable to stop himself from prodding the bear.

Roy spasms.

"Ok, let's not make this weird." Jason huffs.

"Make this weird? It's already weird, we're neck deep in it, NAY!, We're drowning in it!"

"Oh dear god," Jason sighs, squeezing his eyes shut and speaking before he can think better of it, "I love her."

Roy chokes, Jason startles, clearly surprising, even himself, "Oh my god, I love her."

There's a heavy, pained silence before Roy croaks "... Bro"

"I know." Jason tugged at the roots of his hair.

"…BRO." Roy was trying to prevent a panic attack, his panic fuelling Jason's.

"I know."

"You love me?" A slightly giddy voice breathes from the doorway.

Both men groan for different reasons as they spot you bouncing toward them.

"Babe, I -"

"I love you too," you beam, throwing your arms around Jason's neck and kissing him like your life depends on it.

Roy gags, forcing you to pull away. "God, this is gonna ruin every group hang for the rest of my life." He whined.

"Nah. You’ll get used to me kissing your sister in front of you."

"I SWEAR TO GOD —"

TIM DRAKE & CONNER KENT

Conner's knee is jiggling furiously. From across the room, Cassie raises a questioning brow, but Conner makes no effort to stop as he checks the time for the fourth time in less than three minutes.

You're late. So is Tim, but it's not him Conner's worried about. You're never late; you've always been a perpetually early person, and you always get so anxious if you aren't. Conner knows, having been on the receiving end of your time-anxious meltdowns more than once.

"Dude, calm down, they're not even five minutes late yet," Bart says, looking at him as if he's the weird one here, when clearly, something terrible has happened to you.

You've been in a car accident (you don't drive), you've been shot, (you're bulletproof), you've been taken hostage by Lex Luthor (plausible), you've -

"Hi guys, sorry I’m late, I slept through my alarm." You laugh bashfully, avoiding Conner's gaze, which narrows in suspicion.

"That never happens." He scowls, his enhanced hearing picking up the slight stutter in your heartbeat.

"Well, it did today." You rolled your eyes, crossing the room to sit next to Cassie.

Barely two minutes later, a harried-looking Tim scurries through the door, brushing his sweaty hair from his face, and in doing so, accidentally reveals a hickey just beneath the neckline of his shirt.

It's only for a second, but that one second is all he needs to connect the dots.

"No." He says, glaring at Tim as everyone else, including you, watches in confusion.

"No?" Tim repeats.

"NO!" Conner snarls, jumping up from his seat and pulling down the neckline of Tim's shirt to display not one, but three love bites.

"YOU’RE SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER?!"

"Technically, there wasn't much sleeping involved - " Tim mutters, with absolutely zero regard for his well-being.

"I trusted you with my life, and you go behind my back to DEFLOWER MY INNOCENT BABY SISTER?!"

"You're the same age?" Tim mumbles at the same time you scoff.

"Deflower? Innocent? Are we living in the Middle Ages? Are you my owner?"

"Stay out of this!" Conner whirls on you, his gaze dangerously red.

"Stay out of my own sex life?" You guffaw, ignoring the way Conner puffs up like an angry cat. "Besides, Tim's hardly my first."

Your words are enough to shock your brother enough that he drops Tim, reeling back with a hand on his chest like he's suffering a heart attack.

You take the opportunity to scoop your partner into your arms, flying away before Kon can recover, until you reach the safety of the bed you've both only just left.

"I think he's actually going to kill me." Tim mumbles, burying his face in your chest.

"Hmm, guess you''ll just have to keep me around forever, for protection."

"Sounds perfect." Tim dreamily says, clutching you even tighter in contentment.

BRUCE WAYNE & CLARK KENT

Once, there would have been a time when interviewing Gotham’s Bruce Wayne would have left him an anxious wreck, but now, Clark relished in the opportunity. Giddy that his best friend, no matter how much the man denied it, would turn to him (him! A Metropolis interloper), instead of someone like that tart Vicki Vale.

(That thought has him mentally apologising to his ma for his crudeness, but what she wouldn't know, couldn't hurt her.)

Needless to say, Clark was excited to have been given the chance, and he refused to squander it.

They were in Bruce's "office," a room they both knew he hardly ever even stepped foot inside, but had occupied to keep up the facade.

A brilliant facade it was, Clark thought in amusement, as he watched Brucie Wayne ramble on earnestly. Nobody would ever suspect the man, reaching for his wallet to pull out a picture of his kids in an interview on Wayne Enterprises' newest ventures, to be the fearsome Batman.

Clark, ever affable, just smiles, nodding along until a second picture flutters onto the desk. Bruce freezes, his perfected mask slipping just a fraction, but enough for Clark to notice as the unshakeable man's eyes widen in sheer panic.

Bruce was composed. He was always in control, a master of self-control. Bruce was unflappable, he had a plan for everything.

Bruce, evidently, did not have a plan, beyond freezing in horror, for when an intimate Polaroid of his girlfriend, Clark's sister, landed face up on the table between them.

You're wearing one of his button-up shirts, seated sideways across Bruce's lap, the man's large hand clasped over your thigh, as you stare up at him like he's your whole world.

Clark paused, staring at the photo on the desk like it was a live grenade.

Bruce, very carefully, snuck a hand out to retrieve it. Only to be thwarted by Clark's superspeed. He holds it between his thumb and his index finger like it might bite him, the blinding grin never once fading from his face.

Bruce thinks it's the most terrifying Clark has ever looked.

There's a long pause, with Bruce mentally calculating how long it will take before he has some Kryptonite on his hands and whetehr or not Clark will flatten him before then.

"Oh my god," Clark said.

Bruce grimaced. "It's not what it looks like."

"It looks like you're dating my sister."

"Ok, it's exactly what it looks like, but—" He cuts off once more as Clark speaks with surprising giddiness.

"You carry her around in your wallet. Like a real boyfriend, it's sickeningly sweet."

Bruce opened his mouth, closing it and opening it again repeatedly like a stunned fish as he blushed a brilliant red.

Clark wasn’t finished; if anything, he looked like Christmas had come early.

"Is there more?" Bruce stiffens, "There is! Do you have a shrine? I bet you have a shrine!"

"Clark."

"Is it in the batcave?"

"Clark."

"What about a scrapbook? Is she on the manor walls yet?"

"Clark."

"Do your kids know? Wait, am I the last to know?!" He seemed genuinely hurt by that thought.

Bruce looked up at the ceiling like it could save him from the confrontation; he thinks he'd rather fight than... whatever the hell, it is Clark's doing.

[magicalmatcha]

BROTHERS BEST FRIEND

Pairings: Wally West, Roy Harper, Conner Kent, Clark Kent x fem reader. Platonic batfamily x sister reader.

Summary: Your brother finds out you’re dating his best friend. It goes about as well as you’d think.

A/N: Nsfw themes 18+, minors dni

WALLY WEST & DICK GRAYSON

"Can't wait to see you later baby <3"

Dick stares at the text from Wally, a frown on his face as he tries to recall if they'd made any plans. Though baby was definitely an odd new term of endearment from his best friend. After spending a few minutes wracking his mind and deciding he hadn't forgotten any important plans, he replies:

"What are we doing later?"

He sees the dots indicating Wally's typing

"Why would you assume that was for you?!"

Dick's frown deepened, if that wasn't for him, then who was monopolising his friend's time? More importantly, who was he calling baby?

“Who’s it for then? :((" He conveniently gets left on read.

"Wally!"

"WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST!!"

His messages turn green. That annoying little fuck! Did Wally just block him? Oh, this was so far from over.

If Wally thought Dick was going to just let this go then he was sorely mistaken.

Dick was a man on a mission, determined to catch Wally with his new partner. Only, the redhead suddenly seemed to be a master at avoiding him. It was driving him insane, but Dick was a dog with a bone and this was the one thing he was never going to let go.

He's so focused on his hunt for the perp, that he doesn't notice the clues right in front of his face. The way you seemed so amused whenever he whined or ranted to you or the way you reached for your phone to send Wally a heads-up text. Or the second toothbrush in your bathroom or the men's hoodie slung over the back of your desk chair.

You were starting to feel a little bad, and you'd finally convinced Wally to let Dick in on your secret when the beans get accidentally spilled, in the Titans group chat of all things.

You were texting Wally privately, looking away from your phone the exact second you accidentally clicked on the notification taking you to a different chat, not noticing until it was far too late.

TheSexiestBat: I love you, idiot. Even if you leave dirty dishes in the sink like a war criminal <3.

SpeedyGonzalez: and I love YOU even if you steal the blanket every night 😘

WingDing: BLANKET. EVERY. NIGHT?

LeanMeanGreenMachine: They sleep together. They sleep. Together. They’re sleeping. TOGETHER.

That'sSoRaven: It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. Except I live in the car and the driver is texting.

Pwincess: Shall we begin making couple name suggestions now?? WalliBat? BatAlly? SpeedWayne?

SpeedyGonzalez: SpeedWayne kinda goes hard not gonna lie

TheSexiestBat: oh god oh GOD wrong chat WRONG CHATTTTT

WingDing: WALLY.

SpeedyGonzalez: it was gonna be a soft launch 😭

LeanMeanGreenMachine: BRO WE JUST GOT HARD LAUNCHED INTO ORBIT

SpeedyGonzalez: So like are we officially telling everyone now? Should I change my bio to “taken by the most gorgeous woman on the planet?"

WingDing: BLOCKED REPORTED BANNED EXCOMMUNICATED FROM THE GROUP LEAVE THE TITANS AND THE PLANET

TheSexiestBat: I'm erasing myself from the narrative :D

TheSexiestBat has left the chat.

SpeedyGonzalez: in my defense your sister is hot and emotionally stable and laughs at my jokes. She's literally the perfect woman.

WingDing: Count ur days West.

That'sSoRaven: I call dibs on the funeral playlist I’m thinking something upbeat. “Dumb Ways to Die” maybe?

Dick screams so loud his neighbours call the cops, fearing he'd been murdered.

Meanwhile you and Wally decide it might be time to give up texting.

ROY HARPER & JASON TODD

It’s been a long night. He’s tired, cranky and covered in mud and blood. He also might be nursing a concussion. Whatever the case, he was ready to crash and Roy’s place was closer than any of his.

He stumbles through the window with a thud, uncaring of the noise he's making. Roy's always been a heavy sleeper. Still, it's a bit disconcerting when he doesn't come to investigate the noise.

Ok, that was a little concerning; what kind of vigilante slept through a potential break-in?

He's just checking his friend's not bleeding out or dead, is what Jason tells himself as he throws back the covers on Roy's bed. Flicking the lights on with an amused laugh that quickly turns into a horrified scream at the sight of his friend, naked, an arm wrapped around his chest from behind.

"Dude, what the fuck?” You croaked, lifting your face from Roy’s back to blink blearily at whoever had interrupted your sleep. Jason's scream turning into a stream of scandalised expletives at the sight of your face.

"Seriously?! MY SISTER, ROY? MY ACTUAL SISTER?!"

"Jason, I swear to god, you better—" you grumbled, still half asleep as you tried to hide your face against the back of your barely conscious boyfriend.

"I better what? Calm down? Don't you dare tell me to CALM DOWN. My SISTER! MY SISTER and my BEST FRIEND!" He shrieks, tugging at his hair as he paced restlessly. Suddenly, he whirled on Roy, grabbing the man's shoulders. "How could you do this to me?"

"You’re talking like I’m the one who got into her bed. She climbed in here herself, dude." Roy mumbled, still sleep-laden and beyond over the situation already.

"You—YOU—climbed into his bed?!"

"I mean yeah? This is Roy's apartment." You whined, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, ignoring his unintelligible stutters.

"Quit clutching your pearls Jay, we're both adults." The scandalised gasp he lets out, hand clutching his chest is one you'd remember forever.

You finally sit up, making him screech and cover his eyes, blindly trying to throw his jacket at you. "Cover them up, you slut!"

"I dunno, Roy likes when my tits are out. Don't you honey?" You mock, relishing in the way Jason's ears turn bright red behind his hand.

Roy hums in agreement before remembering exactly who was standing before him. Your very overprotective brother, who had some very real guns.

"You know, Jase, you’re acting like I’m a bad influence on your sister, but" he turns to look at you, making you melt a little "—who could resist? She’s a catch, man."

"Did you just flirt with my sister in front of me?!" He takes his hand away from his eyes only to nearly run into the doorframe when he realises you're still naked.

"Jason give it a rest." You snickered, finally pulling on the jacket he'd thrown at you, your brother turning around at the sound of the zipper. "Besides. I've known him for longer than you."

Jason sputtered, arms crossed over his chest in extreme offence. "Well, I know him better!"

You let out a screech of outrage, smacking Roy's chest. "Baby! Tell him he's wrong!"

Roy simply turned and buried his face in his pillow, wondering if it was too late to break up with both of you.

CONNER KENT & TIM DRAKE

It wasn't exactly out of the norm for Tim to call you down to the Batcave, he often did so when he was having trouble with a case. But there was something different about the text he'd sent you. It was short and sharp, with perfect grammar and spelling, and most telling, no emojis. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

The sight of your very much still secret boyfriend standing behind Tim with his arms crossed is enough for your stomach to sink. Luckily, years of exposure to your family's bullshit had let you perfect the art of the poker face.

"Kon? What are you doing here?" You try to remain calm; Kon visits Tim all the time; they're best friends. Yet you can't shake the sinking suspicion that starts to settle in your gut. Just as your boyfriend's about to answer, Tim swivels in the large chair facing the bat computer like a cliche supervillain.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin."

You almost don't want to ask, "begin what?"

Tim's fingers are interlaced in front of his stone-cold expression as the monitor whirs to life, showcasing a PowerPoint slide titled 'Evidence'.

"Evidence of what?" You sigh.

"Of you two dating."

"Tim," you sigh in exasperation, "you're being ridiculous."

Conner, however, is as convincing in his denial as a little girl with lipstick all over her face, swearing she didn't touch Mum's makeup.

"So we're doing this the hard way. Are you ready?"

"Tim, we really don't need - "

"Yes." You throw an incredulous look Conner's way.

"What?" He shrugs, "Kind of seems like he put a lot of effort into this."

"I did." Tim confirms.

"Oh for fuck's sake, fine, Kon and I are dating." You exclaim, throwing your arms up in exasperation.

"Thank you for your honesty, we can skip ahead a few slides." Tim nods serenely, flicking through an absurd amount of slides until he stops on.

"What this means & the consequences"

“Breakup = emotional devastation = forced to choose = loss of sibling"

“They work out = I have to hear them be gross for eternity???”

“Bruce finds out = He kills Kon = I lose my best friend.

"Hold on, you'd choose Conner over me if we broke up?" You squawk in offence.

"Obviously. No offence, babe, but we are best friends." Conner grins and you turn your mutinous glare on him.

"You're sleeping on the couch for a week." You hiss, watching in satisfaction as his grin evaporates.

"Wait, you're sleeping together?!" Tim shrieks, reaching for a suspicious batarang.

"On second thought I'm on your side!" Conner laughs nervously.

"No offence, babe, but you made your choice." You smile unnervingly widely before turning and leaving him to deal with Tim's meltdown.

CLARK KENT & BRUCE WAYNE

Bruce had given a lot of thought to how he'd die over the years, how couldn't he with the life he led? Of all the possibilities he'd imagined, choking on the tea Alfred had prepared him from the image plastered across his morning newspaper.

The picture. The picture of you. His beloved sister. You and Clark Kent. His best friend. Kissing. That picture.

"Wayne Princess spotted with new beau?" The newspaper he holds in his hands stares up at him mockingly until he accidentally rips the offending paper in half.

Plans for the day-long forgotten, Bruce hunkers down at his computer, obsessively scrolling through gossip columns, collecting information. The headlines were nearly endless: “Wayne Royalty Meets Smallville Simplicity", “Billionaire Bloodline and the Boy Next Door?", He Stole Her From Us! Gotham Mourns as Beloved Socialite Taken Off the Market.”

“BREAKING: Gotham’s IT Girl is Dating… WHO???”

The Wayne Princess: You know her, you love her, women want to be her, everyone wants to be with her — was spotted yesterday cosying up to a mystery man. It turns out, that man is Clark Kent, a journalist at the Daily Planet. Yes, a journalist. With GLASSES. Not a billionaire, not a pop star, not even an actor. Just... Clark. Look, we’re not here to judge true love or whatever, but Gotham is reeling. Our queen, our light, our socialite supreme… has chosen a man who probably thinks khakis and cardigans are acceptable date attire. The internet is in mourning. Group chats are in shambles. Thirst edits are being watched through mournful tears. Meanwhile, Clark Kent? Unbothered. Thriving. Possibly winning the “man most likely to be assassinated by bitter Gothamites" award.

All the while, he's sending countless texts and voicemails to his currently wayward sister. You'd always answered him immediately, even when you were busy; yeah he smelled a conspiracy.

Guess it was time to pull out the big guns, his kids, you never could ignore them. He calls Tim and Damian into his office, trying not to feel a little unnerved when the oldest announces that you're in Metropolis with no prompting.

"I figured you'd seen the news." The teen shrugged, answering the silent question in Bruce's eyes.

"What news?" Damian scowls, looking between his father and brother in suspicion. The kid was a Wayne alright.

"Auntie's dating Superman." Tim yawns.

"Father, I require some Kryptonite... for completely unrelated reasons," Damian says so unconvincingly that any other day Bruce might have been amused. Now though, he considered it for a few seconds.

"Ooookay, I'm going to take this one to school now." Tim chuckles awkwardly, grabbing Damian by the shoulders and hauling him out of Bruce's office before the two could plan to murder one of the greatest heroes on Earth.

(Though not before he drops your exact location for his adoptive father, he wasn't that magnanimous.)

Bruce strikes when you're in the shower, waiting until he hears the water start to run before he steps out of the shadows.

"What are your intentions with my sister?"

"Jesus Christ! Bruce!" Clark practically screamed, pulling the sheets up to cover his chest like a blushing maiden.

"Answer the question, Clark." He reiterates.

"Bruce, seriously," Clark tries to placate, only to pause at the deadly look on his friend's face. "I love her."

The earnest sincerity in Clark's gaze knocks the wind right out of his sails.

"Listen to me, Bruce, I love her, I'd protect her with my life. You have to know that." The dopey, lovesick grin that grows on his face is disgustingly sweet. "I'd marry her if she let me."

"Really?" Your breathless voice cuts in. Bruce's eyes narrowed; you tended to take long showers; there was no way you'd finished already. Unless, you intended to set him up.

Unwilling to stay and witness the inevitable sap fest, Bruce turns to you for confirmation.

"Is he good to you?" You nod and something in him softens just a little. "Then I trust you. Both of you." He pauses, barriers going back up when he notices the way you relax into Clark's welcoming embrace. "But if he breaks your heart, I will break his kneecaps"

[magicalmatcha]

twry and the crimson supernova ff are the two things keeping me entertained this summer

i quit my job so writing this story is also all that's keep me entertained twin 😭

[magicalmatcha]

pairing: megumi fushiguro x f!reader

synopsis: after another too-late night at his house, megumi drives you home, carefully, quietly, while you sleep soundly in the passenger seat. he thinks about toji’s dumb rules, how love makes him soft, and how he’d drive you anywhere if it meant he got to keep you like this.

content: tear in my heart, established relationship, high school au, protective megumi, mentions of toji being a shit dad, domestic teenage romance, implied intimacy.

it wasn’t that late, not really.

the sky still held that lavender tinge it gets in spring, the kind of softness that feels like a held breath. streetlights flickered past like slow blinks. your head lolled toward the window as megumi turned onto the main road, one hand on the wheel, the other resting palm-up between you, open, just in case you reached for it.

you’d stayed too long again. laughed too loud in his kitchen, stealing bites from his bowl with your pinky in the air like it was fine china. toes curled on the couch beside him, legs tangled, your voice lilting with whatever story you half-remembered and felt safe enough to tell.

toji had grumbled as usual—“you’re not spending the night,” already half-asleep with his neck crooked against the armrest and a half-finished beer sweating into the carpet, but he didn’t get up, didn’t check in. he never did. too busy pretending he didn’t see the way megumi looked at you when you weren’t watching.

megumi had kissed your temple and helped you gather your stuff with quiet fingers and gentler eyes. he didn’t fight it anymore, didn’t beg to keep you longer. he just walked you to the car like he always did. like it was enough to get those extra fifteen minutes with you.

you talked for the first five, voice thick with sleep and warmth, saying things like “he’s so dramatic” and “i’m not even tired” while your eyelids fluttered shut between red lights. your words got slower, softer, slurred at the edges as you leaned back into the headrest and sighed like you were already dreaming. and by the time he turned onto the main road, you were gone.

he glanced over at you, lips parting like he might say something anyway. didn’t. just swallowed the words, let them sink down to wherever everything else you made him feel ended up.

and yeah, okay—he got why toji didn’t let you sleep over, but it didn’t mean he liked it. toji was an asshole, but he wasn’t stupid. the whole “no pregnant teens in my house” thing was less about rules and more about plausible deniability. he’d say it loud enough for megumi to roll his eyes, mumble something about it being two years already and how you guys weren’t reckless. toji never answered. just cracked another beer and flipped the channel like he didn’t hear a damn thing.

and yet megumi understood. sort of. toji didn’t want to be a dad in the first place—definitely didn’t want to be a granddad. megumi was just grateful he didn’t try harder to pretend he cared more than he did. because really, what was the point?

it wasn’t like you hadn’t already done everything toji was supposedly trying to prevent. not like it hadn’t happened on lazy afternoons when he was passed out on the couch or on nights he left for the casino and didn’t come back until dawn. it had. it would again. and toji had to know that.

but megumi didn’t think about any of that now. not the rules, not the tension, not the half-baked warnings his father never bothered enforcing. not when you were curled up so small in the passenger seat. not when your breathing was steady and your fingers still smelled faintly like whatever lip gloss you’d smeared on halfway through dinner. not when you looked so soft and content and his, even in this borrowed little moment.

he didn’t care about what toji would say tomorrow. didn’t care that you couldn’t stay.

he just wanted to drive slow. keep the road smooth. get you home without waking you, because he knew what it meant for you to fall asleep in his car. knew it was trust. safety. love, maybe, in the way neither of you ever said out loud, but always showed. and he’d take it. always. however it came.

and he knew you didn’t even mean to fall asleep, but god, did you look peaceful when you did. curled in on yourself with your hands tucked under your chin, lashes brushing your cheeks, breathing even and slow. megumi glanced over at you, and something in his chest did that thing again. the quiet swell, the ache that was too good to hurt. he turned the radio down to a hum, a whisper of piano and strings. adjusted the vents so the air wouldn’t hit your face. when he drove over a pothole, he winced harder than you did.

mentally cursed the city, too. how hard is it to fix one fucking road? he thought, jaw tight, glancing at you again like he could will you back into the same dream. i pay taxes. toji pays taxes. where the hell is the cement?

he didn’t mind. not the drive, not the weight of loving you like this.

you could fall asleep in every car he ever owned and he’d never get tired of watching you breathe. never get tired of thinking, this is mine. not like a possession. like a promise. like a soft truth he got to hold, even just for a while.

and when he pulled into your driveway and your eyes blinked open, still cloudy, he whispered, “you’re home,” and didn’t ask you to leave. didn’t say he missed you already, though he did.

he just looked at you like you’d carved your name into the softest part of his heart.

because you had.

[magicalmatcha]

i’ve been randomly thinking about this before bed lol but is panda like a nickname or his fr name? like in this reality i assume he’s a human yk so i’ve just been wondering

nah he's actually a giant bear they stole from the zoo that just follows them around as long as they feed him and they're schizophrenic so they think he's talking to them.

I think Panda is so cute as a name especially for a girl but it's def just a nickname

[magicalmatcha]

twry au!yn and megumi

[magicalmatcha]

What would have happened if when Megumi came back and found out about yume, he realized that yn already has another partner?

Well that's what he assumed before finding out Yume was his and he was still tryna talk to her for closure. Like this man did NOT think Yume could be his bc he knows Yn would have told him.

That being said if he did get to talk to yn and found out she moved on and Yume was someone else's kid.

Let's just say there's a lot of Grammy's in his future

[magicalmatcha]

i think a solution is locking megumi and yn in a rage room together except no old tvs or bottles to be broken — just give yn a bat, a killer playlist, and megumi with a big target pinned on him

throw satoru and pandas fake ass in there too and put targets on them as well me thinks

yea if you put yn in a rage room with megumi yume's coming home to no parents at all.

[magicalmatcha]

I would have bombed his studio too, Especially because of his stage name, it's crazy work. I would have taken it as a personal attack.

"Waitformay" and then blocks you three months in

[magicalmatcha]

Hii. 2 questions. In the hypothetical that Megumi and y/n end up happily ever after, would y/n decide to change yumes last name to Fushiguro or would it stay l/n. In that same hypothetical, would they ever consider having another child aside from yume? Also love the story and I come back every day waiting for the new chapter to drop cus I love it so much ❤️❤️❤️

1. You know, my answer is no and yes. Yes because they would all eventually have the same last name even if Yume starts out with only one of there's at first so if it's Megumi's then sure. No, because Megumi does NOT fuck with his family. But neither does yn lmao so it's just a matter of if Yn chooses to make to Fushiguro. If Megumi insists on taking Yn's last names then they'll all be the Ln's.

2. I wanted Yume to be a twin but Yn def couldn't handle that so yes I think they'd have a kid later after they're finally married so Yume would be about four-five years older than said kid. If it's another accident then 🤷🏾‍♀️

[magicalmatcha]

shamelessly plugging the only book I ever finished

as a society, we need more long fiction where the reader haunts the narrative. yes, I want to be that dead wife at the beginning of each movie. if I disappear or die tragically, i want to haunt the character every moment. we don't need a few paragraphs about how much the character hurts over our death, we want at least 10k where it is established at the beginning of the story that reader is dead, we want to see flashbacks to the past when we were happy. the longer the story goes on, the darker they become, all the way to the present. I never want to leave the character alone.

If you know of any fic like this or are writing one, please recommend it! 🙏🏻🙏🏻