Transmigrated As An SSS Ranked MILF Overlord-Chapter 20: A Nice Bathe(1)

Write

Write

Write

The sound of Steve's pen whispered softly against the slightly worn pages of the Author's notebook.

He sat low on an upturned bucket, his knees folded loosely, back hunched slightly, and his red-frosted cheeks leaned forward in calm focus. His hand moved slow, deliberate.

The incident with Fiona was already behind him, a few hours past.

Whatever guilt, tension, or confusion had lingered—well, it was gone now. He had recovered, fully. His mind was sharp again, and his hunger for a harem reignited.

Fiona may have given him a morning to remember, but...

'She's not the one I want....for now.' His lips curled into a subtle smirk as he scribbled the final sentence.

His thoughts drifted to Maggie. Her surplus curves. Her scent. It had always been her.

But still, the idea of Tonya wasn't so far-fetched either.

'Hmmm....but.. finishing my harem with Tonya and getting magic abilities...Would that really be so bad?' he thought.

'No, no—I need to get everyone of them. Accept them all properly, no skipping steps. Maggie is next. She's the one I have to reach.'

He pressed the dot of the final full stop and the moment the ink sank into the page, a system notification chimed into his field of vision.

[Task Completed.]

Steve smiled, a slow one, the kind that stretched without trying. He leaned back, arms lifted high into a satisfying stretch, his shoulders cracking quietly. His notebook rested on his lap, open to a fresh line that read-

"Maggie asks Fiona to follow Tonya and gather herbs from the outskirts of the town of Mirror, leaving Maggie alone."

"All according to plan."

He let out a soft puff of air from between his lips, closed the notebook, and waited.

Time moved.

A soft breeze passed now and then, but Steve didn't move. He was patient. This moment had already been written.

Eventually, soft voices stirred from within the house. The wooden hinges creaked open, and out stepped Tonya first, the long strands of her hair flowing gently in the breeze, followed by Fiona—her face half-hidden behind the other woman's shoulder. The door closed behind them with a quiet thud.

Steve's eyes opened. Still. Watching.

Then, Fiona's gaze flicked toward him—and their eyes met.

It was brief. But enough. She blinked rapidly and almost immediately turned away as if burned by the glance. Her heartbeat quickened.

'W-Why is he looking at me like that?...' she thought, biting her bottom lip.

'...Does he... Does he know? No, he couldn't. That was just—It was a mistake, right? I was just trying to help him... that's all...'

Her cheeks tinted red. She clenched her jaw gently and started walking, her steps stiff at first, then quicker. But to Steve, the sight was something else entirely.

He watched her ass sway with each step. Each motion of those thick cheeks sent a ripple through her light fabric skirt. They bounced with their own rhythm—plump, heavy, like they barely belonged on her small frame, and Steve's eyes followed every motion.

'Mmm... juicy as hell.'

He shifted, standing upright from his leaning position against the wall. A low, satisfied breath rolled from his throat.

"Now that they're gone..." he whispered to himself with a light grin.

He cracked his neck, gave one final stretch, and turned toward the house.

"Let's go."

He stepped through the entrance, and as he walked inside, silence wrapped around him. An eerie kind of quiet. But somewhere beneath it all—there was the faint sound of splashing water.

The bathroom wasn't far. It was separated by a narrow hallway that connected to the backyard. From there, the noise came clearer. Maggie was drawing water from the stone well—its crank whining gently with every pull.

She leaned forward, dipping her hands over the rim and lifting the full bucket with ease. Water sloshed to the sides but didn't spill. The white cotton fabric clung to her form as she moved.

She stepped back into the house, the full bucket balanced at her side.

Her steps were calm, her hips moving in a way that would've drawn stares if anyone else was there.

She approached the bathroom door, her palm reaching forward.

Creak.

She entered. The wooden door swung shut behind her with a dull creak. She turned around.

And stopped.

Steve was there.

Sitting on the upside-down bucket, half-clothed. His bare chest rose and fell slowly, his skin glistening faintly with sweat. The only thing covering him was a pair of snug ungarments. His hair was slightly messy, eyes low, face unreadable.

Maggie blinked. "Steve?" she asked, confused.

"What's going on?"

Steve's eyes fluttered up like he was waking from a trance. His face remained calm—almost too calm.

"Oh... hey. Sorry..." he muttered.

"... I didn't want to waste your time. I came in to take a shower, but I'm feeling kinda... weak."

She stepped closer.

"Weak?" Her eyes narrowed.

"You don't look sick."

She placed her palm on his forehead. His skin was warm, but not hot. Her fingers lingered.

Steve looked up, his voice soft.

"Yeah. I know. My temperature's fine... but I just feel a little off. Like, heavy. Maybe I'm just tired."

She pulled her hand away, offering him a smile.

"Tired? You just woke up a few hours ago...mmm...You need to rest. You can take your bath. I'll go make some stew—something light, but warm. Should help with... whatever it is." freewebnoveℓ.com

Steve looked at her then. There was a moment of hesitation in his eyes. His lips parted.

"But wait... weren't you about to take a bath?"

She paused.

"Yeah... but it can wait."

Steve tilted his head slightly.

"Are you sure?"

Her smile was gentle.

"It's fine."

He paused again. This time longer. Then slowly, he spoke, voice low, innocent.

"I mean... I don't really have much strength left in me. So... would you mind... bathing me?"

***

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