As you can see, I'm Ms.skyy; the founder of designerpvssy.com, where you can read the most filthiest, nastiest, taboo, toe-curlying literature art you'll ever read all for free, I know- generous aren't I? And while I am quite new within this line of work, I will take requests if given respectfully (bc I will not hesitate to block you if you disrespect me In any shape or form) and if I don't respond to your request or ask it's probably because I didn't feel comfortable doing so.
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And here you'll find those who strictly aren't welcomed on the premises.
I produce for mostly All fandoms just not smvt for the minors that are in them and that includes aging them up but whatsoever I don't judge people who do write for them because that's their choice just know you won't catch me writing it.
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@cafekitsune for the star and heart dividers!! The other dividers including the gifs were made by me so don't steal!!
Something I also find crazy is that one of the reasons they disliked valko was because apparently he looked too 'western' but most of them had no criticism when Caleb's storyline came out with literal incest.
Not caleb slander but one definitely seems worst than the other, no?
'Looking' western vs being incestuous, I'd say incest seems like the more controversial one? 💀
Sorry to everyone that I've been Soo absent lately, I miss being on here and reading and interactingggg💔 buttttt I've kinda been living in a irl ff 🫢 it's legit like a movie I believe this is real life.
₊˚⭑🍊‧˚⊹♡─ that summer, as megumi would remember it, lingered in the scent of citrus he could never quite wash from beneath his fingernails. his fingers ached from peeling too many tangerines, the sweetness of them clinging stubbornly long after the season had passed. | w.c 16.5k
AO3 | 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ➠ before you read i want to say that i genuinely poured every ounce of my soul into this fic and i don't think i'll write anything better than this ever. i wrote this in a span of almost a whole month cause i kept getting too emotional. this was inspired by the songs "so nice (summer samba)", "'s wonderful" and "anything". good luck :)
megumi loves tangerines.
not in the casual way people claim to like fruit, tossing the peels away without a thought, but in the quiet, deliberate way he does most things. like a small ritual carried out in the still corners of the day.
he sits with one in his hand, turning it slowly between his fingers, the skin bright and dimpled like a tiny sun caught in his palm. the room is quiet, the kind of quiet that hums softly around him, and the citrus scent is already beginning to bloom in the air even before the peel breaks. his thumb presses into the rind first, testing the softness, and then his nails follow; short, a little rough from habit. they sink into the skin with a faint snap, puncturing that thin barrier.
the peel splits open beneath the pressure and a sharp mist of juice flicks outward, tiny droplets catching the light before they disappear. sometimes it reaches his face, cool and sudden against his cheek.
he doesn’t flinch when it does. if the fruit leans toward sourness, the juice finds the small wounds along his cuticles (the ones he’s chewed and picked at absentmindedly when thoughts crowd too tightly in his head) and it stings there, a brief spark of pain that pulls his attention back to the present.
megumi doesn’t mind it.
slowly, carefully, he peels the tangerine open. the skin comes away in uneven curls beneath his fingers, the inside glows a softer orange, each segment pressed neatly against the next.
he begins the part he loves the most.
one segment at a time, he pulls them free. the thin white threads clinging to the fruit are picked with quiet patience, stripping them away bit by bit. it’s meticulous work, something small and repetitive, and his hands move with the same careful focus he uses in everything else. the pith gathers in a little pile beside him.
sometimes he rolls the slice between his fingers before eating it, feeling the delicate skin stretch and give.
when he finally brings it to his mouth, the segment bursts softly between his teeth. sweetness spreads first, then that gentle tang that makes the corners of his jaw tighten for a second before relaxing again.
megumi chews slowly.
the rest of the world feels quieter while he does.
like the simple act of peeling, cleaning, and eating each slice has pressed pause on everything else for a little while. his hands stay busy, reaching for the next segment, brushing away another thread of white.
and by the time the last piece disappears, the air around him still smells faintly of citrus, and his fingers are sticky with sugar and sunlight.
“megumi-chan!! don’t fall behind!”
gojo’s voice tore through the quiet like a siren.
megumi flinched immediately, shoulders tensing and brow twitching as if the sound had physically struck him. if he had to describe it, ear-bleeding would still be the most accurate term. he exhaled slowly through his nose, already irritated before he even turned his head.
That’s when he realized that the others were further down the path and somewhere along the way he had stopped walking entirely.
megumi frowned, his gaze drifted to the side, pulled there by something that had caught his attention without him consciously noticing. just beyond the low wooden fence of someone’s garden stood a tangerine tree, its branches thick with glossy leaves dotted with bright fruit. one of the tangerines had fallen, rolling just close enough to the fence that it rested in the grass along the edge of the path.
it was perfectly intact; round, bright and glowing against the green.
megumi stared at it for a moment, then he glanced toward the quiet house behind the garden.
no movement.
his eyes returned to the fruit.
slowly, he crouched, pushing his hand through the fence just enough to reach it. the tips of his fingers brushed the warm skin of the tangerine. he hesitated there, hand hovering for a second longer than necessary.
it was ridiculous.
he had faced curses that could flatten buildings without a second thought, yet somehow picking up a fallen fruit felt like committing an actual crime.
megumi frowned at himself, grabbed the tangerine, and stood up. by the time he looked up again, the group had gotten even further ahead. he sighed, jogging after them.
his steps were quiet but quick, the tangerine resting loosely in his palm as he caught up to the others. yuji was the first to notice, glancing over casually before his attention immediately locked onto the fruit in megumi’s hand.
“huh?” yuji slowed a little, pointing. “where did you get a tangerine?”
megumi didn’t answer. instead, he pressed his thumb into the rind and pushed his nails into the skin. it split open with a soft snap, releasing a sharp mist of citrus oil that briefly hung in the air.
nobara turned around so fast it looked like she’d heard a gunshot.
“wait,” she said suspiciously, narrowing her eyes. “did you steal that from somewhere?!”
“megumi-chan has become a thief,” maki snickered from ahead, glancing back at him with clear amusement. “oh-ho.”
yuji leaned in closer, “did you actually?”
before megumi could respond, gojo slid into the conversation with dramatic timing.
“megumi!,” he announced loudly, placing a hand over his chest in mock heartbreak, “this isn’t how i raised you!”
he shook his head slowly, the picture of theatrical disappointment. “after everything… my own student… reduced to petty theft…”
“you’re being dramatic again,” maki said flatly.
“again?” gojo gasped.
megumi felt a vein pulse faintly in his forehead. “…shut up.”
he continued peeling the tangerine calmly, pulling the rind away in loose curls. the fruit separated easily in his hands, revealing the neat cluster of orange segments inside. he expected the usual sting when the juice touched the torn skin around his cuticles. instead, a warm sweetness drifted up.
he paused briefly. “…sweet,” he muttered.
“tsk,” nobara clicked her tongue immediately, crossing her arms with a scowl “didn’t even get some for us.”
beside her, inumaki nodded in quiet agreement. “shake. shake.”
the village unfolded around them in quiet, sun-warmed stillness as they walked.
narrow paths stretched between small colorful houses, their walls adorned by creeping ivy and the shadows of overhanging trees. bicycles rested against fences and porch railings. gardens spilled over their boundaries with careless abundance, patches of bright flowers, tangled greenery, and fruit trees heavy with color. somewhere nearby, the sea made its presence known even without being seen, the air carrying that faint, salty breath.
it felt slow here, quiet. the kind of place where footsteps and bicycle bells echoed more than engines ever would.
against that calm backdrop, the group from tokyo felt almost painfully loud.
the slap of flip-flops and loose sandals echoed along the path, a lazy rhythm broken constantly by the thud of bags bumping against yuji’s legs as he walked. their voices carried through the street, drifting past open windows and garden fences where a few curious locals occasionally glanced up at the commotion.
yuji groaned dramatically for what had to be the tenth time.
“why do you have to overload your bag?!” he huffed, shifting the straps digging into his shoulders. two bags hung off him awkwardly. one clearly nobara’s and the other unmistakably maki’s. “we are just going to the beach!”
nobara spun around while still walking, nearly making yuji trip as she pointed at him accusingly.
“you men only think a pair of flip-flops and your swim shorts are enough for the beach?!” she snapped. “completely wrong! going to the beach for women is a sport!”
her voice rose enough that a couple of people across the street turned their heads to look.
yuji frowned, clearly offended. “it is enough!” he argued. “the only thing i’d bring besides that is sunscreen—” he paused, thinking. “ or a shovel.”
beside him, inumaki immediately nodded with enthusiasm. “shake! shake!” he lifted his fist and bumped it against yuji’s, who grinned like he had just received the highest form of validation.
a few steps ahead, maki sighed deeply. “like children,”
megumi quietly ate another slice of his tangerine behind them, listening to the argument continue like background noise.
maki slowed slightly, glancing over her shoulder toward gojo, she raised a brow, “we are not actually here to spend a fun summer near the sea, are we?”
“we are!” gojo clasped his hands behind his head as he walked. “nanami was given the decision to go on this little vacation,” he continued with a shrug, “but he didn’t accept it.”
he paused for effect, then spread his arms wide. “but then your amazing, incredibly good-looking sensei gojo satoruuuu decided to take his vacation and generously bring all of you with him!”
“resulting in us having a wonderful summer by the sea!” he declared proudly. “aren’t I just amazing?!”
nobara immediately clasped her hands together dramatically. “thank you nanami-san for not taking the vacation!”
“oi!” gojo whined instantly, pointing at her in betrayal. “you should be thanking me!”
yuji snorted with laughter, the sound bright and unrestrained as it spilled into the open air.
the walk carried on like that for a while; with the constant rhythm of their voices. the slap of sandals against pavement mixed with bursts of giggles and playful bickering, the conversation jumping from one idea to the next without ever settling.
yuji whined loudly, tipping his head back in exaggerated suffering. “how much more?!”
gojo chuckled beside them, clearly entertained.
“i’d say,” he began casually, lifting one long finger and pointing straight down the road ahead of them, “if you made a run for it—” his finger followed the path forward between the houses. “—you’d be there in less than a minute.”
maki narrowed her eyes, leaning slightly to the side to look past one of the houses ahead. then her expression sharpened. “oh,” she said, pointing suddenly, “i can see it beyond that house!”
a faint shimmer of blue was just barely visible past the rooftops, the distant line of the sea catching the sunlight.
nobara didn’t hesitate for even a second. “last one there is a rotten egg!” she bolted forward immediately, her sandals slapping loudly against the ground as she sprinted down the path.
maki grinned. “i like the sound of that!” she took off after her, her stride quick and athletic as she easily closed the distance.
“tuna mayo!” inumaki pumped his fist into the air and darted after them with surprising speed.
behind them, yuji stared for exactly half a second before yelling in outrage. “this isn’t fair!” he shouted, already starting to run after them despite the bags swinging violently from his shoulders, thought it didn’t slow him nearly as much as it should’ve. “i’m carrying all your stuff!”
gojo laughed openly, watching the chaos unfold as the group tore down the path like a pack of overly excited children. (a/n: i love them happy, your honor.) their laughter echoing as they raced toward the faint glimpse of ocean waiting at the end of the road,
behind them, the sudden quiet felt almost unfamiliar.
megumi remained where he was, walking at the same steady pace as before, his footsteps unhurried against the path. gojo strolled beside him with the same loose ease, hands tucked into his pockets like he had nowhere else to be.
“you aren’t going to run with them?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting slightly above the edge of his glasses.
megumi didn’t even look up, he simply shook his head once.
gojo hummed thoughtfully, “sucks to be a rotten egg.”
megumi scoffed under his breath. he lifted the last tangerine slice to his mouth and bit into it slowly, the citrus bursting sweet against his tongue. his thoughts drifting somewhere distant while the noise of the others faded further and further down the road.
he brushed the remaining threads of white pith from his fingers. “…what’s the mission?” he asked at last.
gojo’s head tilted slightly. “hm?”
his gaze shifted down toward the dark-haired boy beside him, taking in the messy spikes of hair and the thoughtful crease between his brows.
“i know you wouldn’t bring us on a vacation without an actual reason,” he said evenly. “or rather… the higher-ups wouldn’t let us go.”
they passed a small garbage can sitting near the path, its metal sides layered with faded stickers and messy graffiti left by years of bored teenagers. megumi flicked the empty tangerine peels into it, landing inside with a soft rustle.
the scent of salt hung more clearly in the air now. the ocean was close.
gojo watched the peels disappear into the bin before letting out a quiet chuckle. “you got me.”
“well,” he said finally, casual in that way that always made it hard to tell how serious he actually was, “this works out. i was planning to assign this mission to you anyway.”
megumi glanced sideways at him.
gojo tilted his head slightly, then added almost lazily “just to you.”
megumi’s steps slowed for half a beat.
“we’ve had reports about a curse whose activity suddenly spiked,” gojo continued as they walked. “looks like it manifested sometime within the last few months. before that, nothing. no incidents, no disturbances, no signs.”
megumi’s brows knit slightly. “what kind of spike?”
“some kind of cursed illness.”
megumi’s breath caught.
“ah.”
the sound slipped out of him before he could stop it, quiet but sharp. he swallowed, throat suddenly dry. cursed illness. the phrase pressed somewhere deeper than it should have, dragging up a familiar knot that had never really loosened.
tsumiki.
the memory of her pale face in the hospital bed flickered across his mind without permission. the unnatural sleep she hadn’t woken from, the doctors’ useless explanations, the quiet suspicion he’d never voiced out loud.
gojo glanced at him from the corner of his eye, catching the subtle tighten in megumi’s jaw. the corner of his mouth lifted into a small, knowing smirk as he reached out and ruffled megumi’s already unruly hair with easy familiarity.
“i’m trusting you with this one,” he said lightly. “so take care of it, yeah?”
then he stepped ahead, his longer stride carrying him forward like the conversation had already been neatly wrapped up.
megumi stayed where he was for a moment longer than necessary. the faint scent of citrus still clung to his fingers, the breeze carrying the distant breath of the sea toward them.
something settled quietly in his chest.
he didn’t say anything about it.
“i’m going into town to buy something to drink,” megumi called out as he stepped out of the water, brushing wet strands of hair away from his face. each drop struck the hot sand with a soft pat before vanishing almost instantly beneath the afternoon heat. “anyone want anything?”
behind him, yuji was still waist-deep in the water, breathing hard and grinning like he’d just won a championship match. “you gave up already?” he shouted. “i thought you were getting serious!”
megumi glanced back at him flatly. “you’re splashing like a toddler.”
yuji gasped in mock offense, already preparing another handful of water to launch in retaliation, but toge pulled itadori into the water by his neck.
megumi crossed the sand toward the cluster of towels where the girls had claimed their spot, the grains warm and fine beneath his feet. maki and nobara were stretched out comfortably, soaking in the sun as though they had absolutely no intention of moving for the rest of the day. megumi crouched beside his bag, unzipping it to retrieve his wallet— well, technically gojo’s wallet.
“i want a lemonade,” maki said without opening her eyes, one arm draped lazily across her forehead.
“me too,” nobara added immediately from beside her, sunglasses perched neatly over her nose and a wide straw hat casting shade across her face. “extra icy.”
megumi hummed in acknowledgment as he stood, a few stubborn droplets from his hair slipped free and landed on the edge of nobara’s towel.
“hey!” she hissed, jerking the towel away from the offending moisture. “watch it!”
megumi didn’t bother apologizing. he simply grabbed his sand-coated flip-flops, slipping them on as the warm rubber pressed into the soles of his feet, and started off toward the path leading back into town.
gojo had vaguely pointed in the direction of the market earlier.‘somewhere that way!’ he’d said, waving a hand.
the path leading there was quieter than the beach, winding gently between clusters of trees and thick greenery that leaned inward as if trying to meet over the road. leaves shifted lazily in the breeze, scattering patches of sunlight that danced across the ground beneath megumi’s feet.
the shade was immediate relief after the open heat of the shore.
somewhere above him, birds chirped lazily between branches, their calls echoing softly through the leaves. the air smelled different here too; less salt, more earth and greenery, the faint sweetness of fruit trees lingering somewhere deeper in the village.
megumi walked slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his shorts as his flip-flops slapped lightly against the ground.
it was peaceful in a way tokyo never was.
his thoughts drifted easily in the quiet, eventually circling back to the real problem at hand. ‘extra icy.’ megumi frowned. how exactly was he supposed to bring two “extra icy” lemonades all the way back to the beach without them turning into lukewarm sugar water halfway there?
maybe they sold bottled ones.
he turned a corner where the path narrowed slightly, the shade deepened there, leaves whispering softly against each other while the breeze carried the distant hum of cicadas. the calm almost made him close his eyes. and for a brief second, he did— just long enough to enjoy the cool shade and the quiet rustle of greenery around him.
“WATCH OOOOUT!”
huh?
before the word even fully registered, something slammed straight into his chest.
the impact knocked the breath from his lungs as a sharp ring-ring! of a bicycle bell exploded in the air. megumi staggered backward instinctively, his feet sliding against the path as he absorbed most of the force, but momentum still sent him falling, his tailbone protesting immediately.
for a moment, the leaves above him swayed lazily against the bright sky, their edges glowing softly where the sunlight slipped through them. the metallic rattle of a fallen bicycle settled against the quiet of the path and some small objects bounced along the ground.
megumi squinting slightly as he pushed himself up on his elbows, momentarily forgetting he was standing in the shade rather than the harsh glare of the open beach.
“i’m so sorry!” the voice was bright, breathless, and very close.
he looked up just in time to see a girl leaning toward him, one hand already reaching out. he took it automatically, allowing her to help pull him upright, though he didn’t put much weight into the gesture. the last thing he needed was dragging her down with him.
“it’s fine—” he began.
“it’s not!” the interruption came so quickly that megumi’s eyes widened a fraction.
“i’m so clumsy!” she continued, words tumbling out in a rush as if once they started they couldn’t possibly stop. “i always forget to ring the bell when i go down this path. it’s just—” she gestured vaguely around them with both hands, like the scenery itself was part of her defense, “it’s so nice here, you know? the trees and the shade and the way the sun comes through the leaves. i always get distracted!”
she laughed nervously, rubbing the back of her neck. “i swear i mean to signal, but then i start looking at the greenery and the wind in the branches and— well— this happens.”
she pointed at him, then the ground, and then the toppled bicycle. “it’s not even the first time i’ve hit somebody here— ha, ha…”
what is this… feeling?
megumi stood there, momentarily rooted in place, watching the girl in front of him continue her breathless explanation about leaves, sunlight, and the dangers of scenic bicycle paths. her words spilled over each other as if silence itself embarrassed her, hands moving wildly.
the warm afternoon light filtered through the canopy above them, breaking into soft fragments that shifted across her face and shoulders whenever the breeze moved the branches. it wasn’t a strong wind, just a gentle current passing through the trees. but somehow it felt like it had swept straight through megumi himself.
his mind stalled.
his throat felt dry.
the girl kept talking, completely unaware of the effect she was having. the colors she wore seemed almost chosen by the scenery around them; soft oranges and leafy greens that echoed the fruit trees and the shade overhead. when she moved, the little woven hat perched on her head wobbled slightly, the painted orange patterns catching the sunlight. and on top of it, fixed proudly like a tiny flag, was a handmade leaf stem.
megumi blinked slowly.
who the hell are you?
“you are not from here, no?” you asked suddenly, tilting your head at him with open curiosity.
megumi opened his mouth to answer.
nothing came out.
he tried again, and immediately coughed, clutching briefly at his throat like the words had gotten stuck somewhere halfway up. after a second of struggling, a hoarse reply finally slipped free.
“…no.”
you blinked.
“god, you sound terrible.”
the blunt observation landed without hesitation, and megumi felt the tips of his ears heat instantly. he looked away, scratching the back of his neck with awkward stiffness, suddenly very aware of how rough his voice had sounded.
you crouched down to gather the fallen fruit, lifting your bicycle upright again. it had a small basket attached to the back, half-filled with tangerines that glowed brightly against the woven straw.
you picked one up and turned back toward him. “here, for that sore throat!”
before megumi could react, you threw a fruit toward him. he caught it a little too quickly. fumbling the citrus before managing to steady it in his palm. staring at as if it had personally put him in this awkward situation, silently cursing himself for nearly dropping it in front of you.
‘seriously?’
a soft chuckle slipped from you as you crouched beside the bicycle, reaching down to gather the tangerines that had rolled along the path when the basket lid flipped open during the collision, when you dropped them back into the basket they made soft, hollow thuds against the others already inside.
megumi glanced down at the one in his own palm. without really thinking, he sank his nails into the rind.
the peel split open with a soft tear, releasing that same sweet citrus aroma he had noticed earlier that morning.
normally he would take his time and separate the segments, slowly pulling away the thin strands of white pith until each slice was perfectly clean. but doing that while you stood there watching felt… weird. so instead he peeled the fruit quickly, pulled apart a slice, and popped it into his mouth without bothering to remove anything.
the bitter hint of pith hit immediately, and he grimaced slightly as he chewed. it still helped his throat though.
“you eat the pith?” you asked, blinking in mild horror as you stood again. “man, i could never.”
you laughed lightly, brushing your hands against your clothes before continuing. “i mean, i could if i had to. but i like the task of picking it apart, you know? like peeling all the little white strings off one by one.”
megumi froze mid-chew.
“…i do too,” he admitted quietly after swallowing, his voice still rough but a little steadier now. “but my throat’s too dry right now… and i like tangerines no matter how i eat them.”
the words came out softer than he meant them to.
you chuckled again turning back to your bicycle rummaging through the basket for a moment, moving aside a few loose items before pulling out a small mesh bag. then you walked right back up to him and held it out. “well, in that case, here!”
you held out the bag toward him, the tangerines inside complimenting the red of strings. megumi instinctively started to shake his head. “you don’t—”
but before the protest could fully form, your hand closed around his, guiding the bag firmly into his palm. the contact was quick and warm, your fingers curling briefly over his knuckles to make sure he didn’t refuse it.
megumi’s entire body stiffened for half a second he looked like he might actually squeal.
“don’t you dare not take it!” you warned, pointing at him with exaggerated seriousness before breaking into a laugh. “i’ll curse you.”
the threat was clearly playful, your shoulders shaking slightly as you laughed. “have this as a welcoming gift to the town.”
megumi stared at the bag in his hand as if it had suddenly gained weight. after a moment, he gave a small nod.
“woah— hold on.” your tone shifted with sudden curiosity as you leaned closer, squinting slightly at his face. “did you put on any sunscreen? your face is really red.”
you pointed toward the skin beneath his eyes. “you’ll get sunburnt at this point.”
megumi instinctively raised his hand and brushed his fingers across the spot you indicated. the skin stung immediately and he hissed softly at the contact. he was already preparing to mutter something about itadori using half the bottle earlier and leaving him with barely any when—
plop.
something landed squarely on top of his head.
megumi blinked.
the faint clinking of metal and the soft crunch of gravel followed as you began wheeling your bicycle away.
he lifted a hand to his head and felt the woven texture of something unfamiliar. when he pulled it off, he found himself staring at the orange-painted hat you’d been wearing earlier. the little handmade leaf at the top wobbled gently in the breeze.
megumi turned quickly. “hey!” he called, waving it towards you. “your hat!”
“keep it for now!” you called over your shoulder, laughter bright in your voice as the bicycle bell jingled softly with the motion. “you need it more than me!”
the distance between you grew quickly as you pedaled away, your voice floated back one last time. “plus! let that be a reason for me to see you again if you want to return it!”
your giggles faded gradually into the quiet of the path, swallowed by the rustle of leaves and the soft hum of cicadas hidden somewhere in the greenery. megumi stood there for a moment longer, the hat still in his hand. the warm breeze moved through the trees again, carrying with it the scent of salt from the ocean and the lingering sweetness of freshly peeled tangerines.
later, when megumi returned to the beach, he was holding a mesh bag full of tangerines.
and absolutely no lemonade.
a few days passed after that and somehow, the hat had never left megumi’s possession.
it sat beside him when he slept, hung loosely from the strap of his bag during the day, and more often than not he found himself turning it over in his hands without even realizing it. his fingers tracing the the rough weave of the orange painted straw and the little handmade leaf that wobbled slightly whenever he tilted it.
“somebody put it on my head as a free gift,” he had said when nobara inevitably noticed it. “i left before he could scam me.” the lie had come out flat and quick.
nobara squinted at him like she didn’t buy it for a second. “who gives out free hats?”
“tourist traps,” megumi replied without missing a beat. she had clicked her tongue and dropped it soon after.
still, the hat stayed.
the days themselves passed slowly and warmly, the beach becoming their routine. mornings filled with the sound of waves folding against the shore, afternoons thick with sunlight and the constant scent of sunscreen drifting from the cluster of towels where they usually sat. somewhere in that mix, the bright sweetness of tangerines seemed to linger everywhere now.
strangely enough, megumi slept better.
for the first time in a long while, his nights passed quietly, without the usual restless dreams clawing their way into his sleep. the only thing that occasionally dragged him back to consciousness was toge’s snoring from the other side of the room. which, honestly, might have qualified as its own kind of nightmare.
today was another beach day.
but megumi wasn’t walking the path at the same relaxed pace he had before.
his steps were quicker now, his eyes drifting constantly along the edges of the road, scanning the shaded paths between houses and the narrow lanes lined with trees. the breeze shifted softly through the leaves above him, and every now and then his ears perked slightly, almost expecting to hear the faint ring of a bicycle bell.
nothing. only birds, the rustle of branches, and the distant murmur of the sea behind him.
megumi exhaled quietly and continued forward until the path widened into the town’s small square.
the market was already alive with movement.
stalls lined the open space beneath colorful cloth canopies, their tables crowded with baskets of vegetables, bundles of herbs, fresh fish resting over crushed ice, and rows of fruit that glowed like little pieces of sunlight. the air carried a mixture of scents that hit all at once; sharp green herbs, salty fish, ripe tomatoes, citrus oils, and the faint sweetness of baked bread drifting from somewhere nearby.
megumi paused for a moment, slightly overwhelmed by the sheer number of smells. he hadn’t even realized a place could smell like so many things at once.
around him, the locals moved through the square with an easy rhythm. some vendors raised their voices enthusiastically, calling out to passing customers and waving them closer to inspect their produce:
“fresh tomatoes! picked this morning!”
“best fish you’ll find this side of the coast!”
others were quieter, sitting behind their stalls with patient calm. one older woman knitted slowly beneath the shade of her umbrella, occasionally glancing up between stitches. another man leaned back in his chair reading a wrinkled magazine, pencil tapping against the page where a crossword puzzle waited half-finished.
megumi instinctively gravitated toward the quieter side of the market. he pulled the folded paper from his pocket, flattening it in one hand as he walked. nobara’s handwriting was aggressively large across the page.
‘since you forgot the ONE thing i asked you for, ‘she had snapped earlier that morning, shoving the list into his chest, ‘i’m sending you back with this. now when you mess it up again we can just blame it on you being stupid.’
he walked between the stalls, scanning the items one by one as he mentally sorted through what he needed.
then something bright caught his eye.
a small stand sat near the edge of the square, its table covered almost entirely with tangerines. piles of them filled shallow baskets, their skins glowing a rich orange beneath the sunlight that slipped between the market canopies.
megumi stopped mid-step.
then, almost without thinking, he darted straight toward it.
the small wooden stall looked almost like it had been decorated by someone who couldn’t stop thinking about tangerines. little doodles were carved and scribbled across the surface of the wood; tiny round fruits with leaves, simple smiling ones, some drawn with quick, messy lines that made them look like something a child had drawn. a few were painted in faded orange, others barely visible where the wood had been worn smooth by years of use.
for a second, he just stood there, staring at the stand and the piles of glowing fruit stacked in shallow baskets across the table. he hoped—
“oh my god, it’s you!”
the voice exploded from behind the stall before he could even finish the thought. megumi’s head jerked up, eyes widening.
there you were, popping out from behind the baskets as if you’d been waiting there the whole time, your grin stretching impossibly wide. the sunlight caught your face, lighting it up in a way that made the entire stall seem warmer, brighter, almost like the tangerines themselves had blushed.
your outfit was the same aas last time. soft oranges and greens that blended perfectly with the fruit around you. and perched atop megumi’s head was the familiar woven hat, slightly tilted from his awkward handling of it earlier.
for a heartbeat, megumi completely forgot how to speak.
“…hello.” the word came out small, clipped, and unsure. he dipped into a polite bow, clutching the bag of groceries to his chest as if it were a shield.
“i’ve come to bring you your hat back,” he added, fingers brushing the brim awkwardly, confirming it was still there.
you leaned on the stall, a soft chuckle escaping, and immediately megumi felt that familiar, strange dryness creeping into his throat, his heart thudding a little faster.
“wow,” you said lightly, tilting your head and squinting at him through the sunlight. “you were that eager to see me?”
megumi shook his head quickly. “n-no, i just—”
he stopped.
because the moment he looked up again, you had pushed your lower lip out in a exaggerated pout, eyebrows lifted as if disappointed in the world itself.
his brain short-circuited entirely. “well— i mean—” he stuttered, words tangling and tumbling over each other. “y-yeah— i mean—sure…”
the pause that followed lasted only a second, but it felt like the world had frozen around him.
then you laughed. it spilled out of you; bright, musical, completely unrestrained. and it made megumi’s chest tighten in a way he didn’t understand. your shoulders shook, your eyes twinkled, and for a moment, all he could do was watch.
“god, you are adorable!” you managed between breaths of laughter. “you should see your face.”
you dabbed at the corner of your eye with a finger as if the moment amused you as much as it terrified him.
megumi dropped his gaze instantly, the heat rushing to his cheeks. he pulled the brim of the hat down over his face, trying desperately to hide the flush, his fingers curling around the straw like it could shield him.
“please… stop it,” he muttered, voice quiet.
you inhaled slowly, trying to calm yourself. “okay, okay,” you said, still smiling as you waved your hands in surrender. “i’m sorry. i’m sorry.”
you leaned forward across the stall, reaching out toward him. megumi instinctively bent slightly so you could reach the top of his head without stretching too far. your fingers brushed lightly against his hair as you lifted the hat away, the woven straw sliding free with a soft rustle before you settled it back onto your own head. the tiny leaf at the top wobbled proudly.
“thank you very much!” you said brightly, flashing him another grin.
megumi straightened slowly. “…you’re welcome.”
the words came out softer than he intended, and for a moment the space between you filled only with the quiet rustle of the market. the distant murmur of vendors, the shifting of baskets, the faint scent of herbs and citrus drifting lazily through the warm air.
you tilted your head slightly, watching him with that same curious brightness in your eyes.
“though,” you said after a moment, resting your elbows lightly on the edge of the stall, “i am a bit sad now.”
megumi blinked.
you puffed your cheeks out in a small pout, fingers tapping against the wood covered in tiny doodled tangerines. “now we don’t really have a reason to meet again.”
megumi’s brain promptly stopped working.
“e-eh?!”
the sound escaped him before he could stop it. he quickly scratched the back of his neck, clearly scrambling for something.
“i don’t really have anything on me to give you…” he admitted awkwardly, glancing down at the bag of groceries still clutched in his hand.
you hummed thoughtfully for half a second. then your expression brightened. “well, you have your word!”
“my word?”
you chuckled lifting your hand and extending your pinky finger across the stall toward him. “just promise you’ll come see me one more time before summer ends.”
megumi stared at your pinky for a moment like it was a surprisingly serious contract. the market noise faded slightly around him, replaced by the quiet rustle of leaves somewhere beyond the square and the warm scent of fruit stacked around the stall.
after a second, he slowly raised his own hand. his pinky hooked around yours. the contact was light but deliberate, the simple gesture sealing the promise in a way that felt oddly significant.
a small smile appeared on megumi’s face before he even realized it.
you noticed immediately. and it felt like you had just won the greatest prize imaginable.
“here,” you said suddenly, pulling your hand back and turning to the baskets beside you. “before you go.”
you grabbed a mesh bag and began dropping several bright tangerines inside, the fruits landing with soft, hollow thuds before you held the bag out toward him. “for the number two tangerine lover!”
“number two?” megumi raised an eyebrow, though a quiet chuckle escaped him as he reached forward to take it. “who’s number one?”
you straightened dramatically, placing a hand over your chest with exaggerated pride. “me, of course! who else?”
“of course…” megumi shook his head lightly, the corner of his mouth lifting again.
megumi had barely adjusted the bag of tangerines in his hands when something suddenly nudged hard into his side. he shifted instinctively, stepping a half step away, and an old man pushed himself into the space beside him like he owned the ground beneath his feet. his finger shot forward immediately, pointing straight at you across the stall.
“i told you not to put your stall here. this is my spot!”
his voice cut through the gentle noise of the square, sharp and loud enough that a few nearby heads turned.
you didn’t flinch, you simply stared at him, your brows slowly knitting together while the little orange leaf on your hat wobbled slightly as you tilted your head.
megumi felt a faint tension creep up his spine. instinctively, he shifted his weight forward, the urge to step in flickering briefly in the back of his mind. but a tourist arguing with a local in the middle of a town square was a terrible idea.
before he could decide anything, you spoke.
“this isn’t anybody’s place,” you said, crossing your arms calmly over your chest. “unless you bought this exact patch of dirt, then sure, it can be yours.”
the old man’s face twisted immediately. “i fucking swear,” he spat, glaring at you with open irritation. “you’re just like your grandmother.”
your arms tightened slightly against yourself. megumi noticed it, the smallest shift in your posture, barely there but real.
the man jabbed a finger toward the stall again. “if i see you here tomorrow,” he barked, “i’ll smash this damn thing to pieces!”
for a moment, the threat hung heavy in the air. megumi’s confusion only grew when you suddenly smiled. it was bright, almost exaggeratedly cheerful as you lifted both hands in a harmless little gesture.
“alright, alright,” you said lightly, waving him off with fake patience. “no need to get so aggressive, old man!” the man muttered something under his breath, clearly a string of curses, and turned as if ready to storm away. “wait!”
your voice stopped him, he paused with visible annoyance, turning back halfway. you leaned down behind the stall, grabbed one of the bright tangerines from the basket, and held it out toward him with a wide grin. “here,” you said sweetly. “a peace offering!”
for a split second megumi thought he might slap it straight out of your hand.
his arm twitched.
but instead the man snatched the fruit roughly from your fingers, gripping it tight as if the poor thing had personally offended him. he scoffed loudly before turning again and stomping off through the square, his footsteps sharp against the stone.
megumi stood there, completely still.
did you just… curse somebody?
the evening draped itself like a soft, warm blanket. the last traces of sunlight lingering on the wooden balcony while the faint sound of waves brushed against the shore somewhere beyond the trees. gojo lounged back in his chair, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, sunglasses slipping slightly down his nose as he regarded the boy beside him.
megumi barely moved, elbows resting on his knees, a single tangerine turning slowly between his fingers, the only movement betraying the storm of thought inside him. his grip tightened slightly as gojo spoke:
“i got information today,” gojo said, his voice calm but carrying a quiet weight, “another person died from the illness. older male.”
megumi’s fingers clenched harder around the fruit, and gojo let his gaze linger, noting the subtle tremor that ran through his hands. he didn’t flinch, didn’t speak, but the tension in his shoulders said enough.
after a moment, gojo let out a long, soft sigh, tilting his head as he watched the sky darken, the first stars beginning to prick the dusky blue. “i know this whole mission touches a nerve for you,” he said, words measured, careful, “i didn’t give it to you to torture you.”
megumi’s hands shook slightly, and gojo’s eyes softened behind the lenses of his glasses.
“i gave it to you because i trust you,” gojo continued, letting the weight of the words hang between them. “because facing something like this… it’s not about punishment. it’s about growth. it’s about becoming the kind of person who can carry the weight, no matter how heavy it gets.”
he leaned back further, hands resting behind his head, voice steady but gentle, letting the space stretch between them.
“you can handle it,” gojo added after a pause, “and it’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you stronger as a person.”
the summer night had cooled just enough for the air to feel soft against the skin, a quiet breeze drifting in from the ocean and brushing through megumi’s hair as he walked along the empty stretch of shore. the tide rolled in slow, steady breaths, each wave pulling moonlight across the water until the sea shimmered like scattered glass beneath the pale sky.
megumi walked with his hands tucked into his pockets, head lowered, his gaze fixed on the sand at his feet rather than the wide horizon in front of him. every few steps he nudged a stray pebble forward with the tip of his sandal, letting it bounce ahead before kicking it again without really thinking about it.
his mind was somewhere else entirely.
he had to find you and execute you.
the thought sat heavily in his chest, heavy enough that even the salty night air felt difficult to breathe.
how was he supposed to do that?
the question circled endlessly in his head as the waves crept up and retreated along the shore. it wasn’t the act of killing itself that troubled him. megumi had been a sorcerer long enough to understand what needed to be done when curses were involved.
but this wasn’t simple. because the more he thought about it, the less it made sense.
did you even know you were cursing people?
he replayed the memory again, the image sharp and impossible to ignore. the moment when you had handed that tangerine to the old man in the square, smiling so brightly it almost felt ridiculous and for the briefest second, megumi had seen it.
a shadow behind your back.
something thin and writhing, like a knot of blackened roots crawling out from your spine. it had appeared only for a moment, stretching outward with the tangerine as cursed energy seeped into the fruit. then it curled back in on itself, wrapping around your body again like a second skin before vanishing completely beneath your warmth and laughter.
you hadn’t reacted.
megumi had stood there frozen, realization settling slowly and horribly in his mind. the curse wasn’t just near you. it was attached to you.
worse than that, he was almost certain the two of you were bound together. the way the cursed energy moved, the way it fed from you and returned. if he destroyed the curse directly, there was a very real chance that the backlash would take you with it.
killing the curse might mean killing you.
megumi exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. he hadn’t eaten a single tangerine you’d given him since that day. the small bag still sat in his room at the apartment, untouched.
was he afraid they were cursed too?
…no.
he didn’t think that was it.
still, every time he reached for one, something stopped him. an invisible hesitation that made him pull his hand back before the peel could even break beneath his fingers.
he kicked the pebble ahead again, watching it bounce across the damp sand. his thoughts spiraled deeper and deeper until—
a quiet sound cut through the night.
sniffling.
megumi stopped walking.
his head lifted toward the sound, eyes scanning the dim shoreline until they landed on the small wooden bench near the path.
you were sitting there. the moonlight fell across you in pale streaks, catching the shine of wet tears on your cheeks as you blinked at him, clearly startled to see someone there at all. for a moment neither of you moved. the waves rolled quietly behind you, the wind tugging gently at your clothes.
you just stared at each other.
then, almost immediately, you groaned and covered your face with both hands.
“don’t look at me!” you whined miserably, rubbing at your eyes in a frantic attempt to wipe the tears away. megumi stiffened where he stood, caught completely off guard. “i’m all teary-eyed and snotty and fucking gross,” you complained through your hands, voice thick as you tried to scrub your face dry.
megumi blinked once, then raised an eyebrow slightly. “…yeah. because you’re crying.”
you peeked through your fingers immediately. “are you lecturing me?”
“uh— no,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly very aware that he had absolutely no idea how to handle a crying person. especially you. his mind ran through a dozen useless options: say something comforting, offer help, do something normal.
instead he just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before blurting, “hold on.”
and then he turned and ran.
down the path, sandals kicking up bits of gravel as he sprinted toward the nearest open market stall he remembered passing earlier. a few minutes later he came rushing back, slightly out of breath, carrying a plastic bottle of cold water, a small pack of tissues, and almost instinctively a couple of fresh tangerines tucked under his arm.
by the time he reached the bench again, you had calmed down a little. your shoulders weren’t shaking anymore, though your eyes were still red and your nose slightly pink from crying.
megumi slowed his steps as he approached.
you glanced up at him just as he reached the bench and he gently pressed the cold water bottle against your cheek. you flinched immediately from the sudden chill. “hey!”
but the protest faded almost as quickly as it came. the coolness seeped into your warm skin and you leaned into it without thinking, your cheek pressing softly against the plastic as if you’d suddenly decided it was the most comforting thing in the world.
you didn’t take the bottle. you just stayed there, nuzzling slightly into the cold surface with a quiet sigh.
megumi hesitated. then sat down beside you on the bench, holding the bottle in place against your cheek so you wouldn’t have to move. his arm would probably start cramping soon. but as you leaned there against him, megumi found himself thinking that even if his arm started cramping, he probably wouldn’t put the bottle down.
“do you want to talk?”
you shook your head immediately; cheek still pressed against the cold plastic.
“alright,” he said simply.
he shifted his grip on the bottle slightly so it rested more comfortably against your face.
“do you want me to wait until you want to talk?”
you sniffled and nodded.
a quiet scoff slipped out of him, though the corner of his mouth lifted faintly.
“alright.”
he pulled the bottle away after a moment to twist the cap open, you reached over and took it from his hand, lifting it to your lips. the cold water slid down your throat and you hummed softly, the chill easing the dryness that crying had left behind.
megumi watched for a second before looking down and rummaging through the plastic bag he’d brought. it rustled quietly in the night air as he searched through it and eventually pulled out a tangerine.
your eyes brightened instantly.
“they’re not… yours,” he said, glancing at the fruit in his hand, “but it’s better than nothing.”
he sank his nails into the peel. the skin split with a soft tear, releasing a faint, sharp citrus scent into the air. he winced slightly when the juice brushed against the small cut near his cuticle, though he quickly masked it, continuing the task with quiet concentration.
you watched him the whole time.
his hands worked slowly and carefully, peeling the skin away in curling strips before placing them neatly back into the bag. once the fruit was bare, he began separating the slices one by one, methodically removing the thin white pith from each segment with surprising patience.
the ocean breeze tugged lightly at his dark hair as he focused, brows faintly drawn. when he finally held out the first slice toward you, you didn’t move.
you just stared at him. the look on your face was soft, almost stunned, as if he’d just done something far more impressive than peeling fruit under the moonlight.
megumi shifted slightly, a faint grimace crossing his face. “…are you… going to take it?”
you still didn’t move.
his ears warmed.
after a second he sighed quietly and extended his hand a little farther, bringing the tangerine slice closer to your lips.
you leaned forward and took it gently from his fingers with your lips, your teeth breaking the thin membrane as the slightly sour juice spread across your tongue.
you didn’t seem to mind the taste at all.
your attention remained fixed on him instead. the dark-haired boy beside you, carefully peeling another slice of fruit as if it were the most important task in the world, the tips of his ears faintly pink and his eyes stubbornly focused on the work in his hands.
he handed you another piece. this time you took it with a small smile, a quiet chuckle slipping out as you chewed.
megumi glanced at you.“do tangerines cheer you up that much?”
you nodded immediately,
he looked back down at the fruit in his hands. “…i’m glad.”
for a while after that, neither of you said much.
then your voice came, quieter than before.
“my grandma…”
megumi’s hands slowed.
he didn’t interrupt, but the way his posture shifted made it clear he was listening now, fully.
“she loved tangerines,” you said softly. “so much that when i was little there wasn’t a single dish she made that didn’t have at least a little bit of the juice in it. rice, soups, marinades… everything.” you let out a small chuckle, your gaze drifting toward the ocean. “the kitchen always smelled like tangerines too.”
megumi handed you another slice.
you took it absently.
“i loved it when i was little,” you continued, rolling the slice between your fingers before eating it. “but when i got older… i guess i got sick of it. the smell followed me everywhere.” you pulled your knees up onto the bench, wrapping your arms around them as the breeze tugged lightly at your clothes. “in school people said i smelled like tangerines all the time. some of my classmates started making fun of me for it.”
you huffed quietly. “which is stupid, right? but bullies always find the dumbest things to pick on.”
megumi didn’t say anything, he just kept peeling the fruit slowly beside you.
“one day i snapped,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now. “i told her i hated tangerines. that i hated the smell and that it was her fault everyone made fun of me.”
you paused.
“do you know what she did?” you glanced sideways at him, expecting boredom or polite disinterest.
instead you found his gaze already on you.
his eyes traced your face carefully, like he was memorizing every small shift in your expression. the attention made a faint warmth rise to your cheeks, and you quickly looked away again before continuing.
“she just laughed,” you said, a small breath of amusement leaving you. “she told me that one day i’d love tangerines just as much as she did.”
you stared out at the ocean again.
“and before i knew it… i did.”
megumi’s hands stilled slightly on the fruit in his lap.
“the house didn’t smell like tangerines anymore,” you continued quietly. “the pots weren’t warm when i walked into the kitchen. the food wasn’t sitting on the table waiting for me. there wasn’t her voice telling me not to turn out like my dad.”
your fingers tightened slightly around your legs. “there wasn’t her laughter anymore either.”
“the village hated her,” you murmured. “because of what her son— my dad, did. people looked at her like she was something rotten… like she carried the same stain he did.” your voice faltered slightly. “and because i was his daughter… they looked at me the same way.”
megumi’s chest felt tight.
“like we were something cursed.”
your shoulders trembled as you pressed your face briefly against your knees.
“and i just…” your voice cracked. “…i just wished they would all die.”
megumi went completely still beside you.
the words sank into the quiet between you, heavier than the humid night air and the slow rhythm of the tide. the ocean rolled in and out against the shore, each wave brushing the sand with a soft sigh, but megumi barely heard it anymore.
his fingers stopped moving, the peel hung loosely between them, a thin strip of orange skin dangling as his grip tightened without him realizing.
his breath caught in his throat.
how— how was he supposed to execute you?
how was he supposed to do it now?
his gaze drifted toward you without fully turning his head. you were still curled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your legs on the bench, shoulders trembling faintly in the moonlight. the silver glow from the water reflected softly across your face, catching in the tear tracks along your cheeks.
megumi’s mind tried to reach for something solid, logic. the cold certainty he usually relied on when dealing with curses. but everything tangled the moment it circled back to you.
his fingers curled tighter around the fruit until the thin skin creased under the pressure.
he should do it.
that was the mission.
he had seen it with his own eyes. the curse that clung to you wasn’t subtle; it had slipped from your back like smoke the first time he noticed it, stretching and twisting before wrapping itself around your body again, possessive and intimate in a way that made his stomach twist.
you didn’t even know it existed. you moved through your days like any other person, laughing, talking, offering him tangerines with sticky fingers and a crooked smile, completely unaware of the thing that breathed alongside you.
you were simply… living.
so why— why were you the one who had to die for it?
megumi swallowed hard, jaw tightening as the questions churned through his mind with nowhere to land. the scent of citrus felt suddenly overwhelming in his hands, sharp and sweet and impossible to ignore.
then your voice broke through his thoughts.
“are you okay?”
you were staring at him, brows drawn together in quiet concern, your earlier sadness momentarily forgotten as you leaned a little closer.
it took him a second to realize what had caught your attention.
his lip.
megumi felt it then; the dull sting where his teeth had been digging in too hard, the metallic taste of blood spreading slowly across his tongue. when he pulled back slightly, a thin line of red had already formed where the skin had split.
“oh— shit.”
he quickly dragged the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping the blood away like it was nothing more than an absent habit. his shoulders shifted in that subtle way he always did when he was trying to brush something off.
you watched the motion carefully, for half a second you didn’t say anything, then your shoulders tightened. “i’m sorry.”
“what?”
you rubbed the back of your neck, the movement awkward and restless as your gaze dropped to your shoes. grains of sand clung to the edges of them where the tide had brushed up earlier, and you nudged one foot into the ground like you suddenly found it very interesting.
“i just kind of dumped all that stuff on you. about my grandma… the village… everything. i didn’t even stop to think about how you might feel hearing it, or if you even wanted to listen in the first place.” your words started to tumble out faster the longer you spoke, the way they did when embarrassment got the better of you. “i mean, we barely know each other and i just—”
“stop that.”
the words cut cleanly through your rambling.
you froze mid-sentence, your head lifting in surprise.
his expression wasn’t sharp or irritated the way it sometimes got when people talked too much; if anything, it had softened in that quiet, unreadable way of his. the wind stirred through his dark hair, pushing a few stubborn strands across his forehead as he watched you.
“if i didn’t care,” he said simply, “i wouldn’t be here right now.”
the honesty in the statement settled between you more heavily than he probably intended.
you looked at him for a long time.
“…but you don’t know me,” you murmured eventually, your voice quieter now.
megumi hesitated.
something flickered behind his eyes, uncertainty, maybe, before he slowly lifted his hand and held it out toward you. the gesture was simple, almost awkward. you stared at his hand, confusion flickering across your face as your gaze moved back up to him.
“megumi,” he clarified quietly. “my name.”
for a moment you just looked at him.
then something in your expression softened, and a small, surprised laugh slipped from you before you could stop it. you reached forward and took his hand without hesitation, your fingers curling around his as you told him your name in return.
megumi repeated it under his breath once, like he was committing it carefully to memory.
“megumi, huh?” you said after a second, a soft grin tugging at the corners of your mouth.
he immediately looked a little awkward about it. his free hand lifted to scratch at the back of his head, shoulders shifting as a faint flush crept up along the tips of his ears. “i know,” he muttered, glancing off toward the water. “it’s… a girl’s name.”
“no,” you said gently.
the way you said it made him look back at you.
you were smiling. there was something so open and sincere in the expression that megumi suddenly didn’t know where to put his eyes. “i think it suits you.”
the ocean stretched endlessly behind him, moonlight scattering across the slow-moving waves in long silver streaks. the wind lifted your hair slightly as you tilted your head, studying him with a quiet sort of curiosity, like you were trying to understand something that had only just revealed itself.
then you said, almost thoughtfully,
“you feel like my blessing.”
ah.
megumi felt something shift deep in his chest, something warm and unfamiliar that spread outward before he could stop it. it was the kind of feeling that made his ribs feel tight, like his heart had suddenly grown too large for the space it lived in.
he looked at you sitting beside him, the faint redness still lingering around your eyes from earlier tears, the smell of tangerines clinging faintly to your hands, the night breeze tugging softly at your clothes as you smiled at him like he was something unexpectedly good that had simply appeared in your life.
like he belonged there.
maybe…
maybe he could allow himself something small.
after all, everyone was selfish sometimes.
and so, that summer.
megumi let himself be selfish.
megumi will never get used to the way you say his name.
it always sounds a little different when it leaves your lips, as if you’re trying out all the possible ways it could exist in the world.
sometimes it comes out stretched and playful, the syllables rolling lazily off your tongue as laughter follows right after, usually when your bicycle bumps into him for the third time that week along the narrow path leading into town. the bell on your handlebars always rings too late, and the soft thud of the tire against his leg is almost routine by now.
you always wobble, nearly tipping the bicycle over in your hurry to steady yourself, your hair falling into your face as you grin sheepishly.
megumi stands there with that same unimpressed look he tries very hard to maintain. he points toward the wheels with mock threat, something about popping your tires but the words never hold any real bite. if anything, his scolding always circles back to you. how you’re the one who’ll get hurt riding that recklessly, how the path isn’t wide enough for your terrible biking skills.
other times it’s quieter.
softer.
the kind of way that belongs only to the two of you when the day settles into evening and the shore grows still beneath the fading sun. the ocean breathes slowly beside you, waves curling against the sand while the sky deepens into colors that melt from gold into violet.
you always insist your hands are freezing and megumi never argues for long. his hands end up covering yours eventually, his fingers awkwardly wrapping around them as the cool sea breeze brushes against your skin. the smell of salt and damp sand lingers in the air while the two of you wander along the shore until you inevitably claim the same weathered bench near the water.
you curl against him there without hesitation, your head resting on his shoulder as if the space was made for you. megumi sits still at first, a little stiff, but it never lasts long. eventually he’s peeling a tangerine, his fingers working carefully through the bright skin while the sharp citrus scent mixes with the ocean air.
slice after slice disappears between your lips as he hands them over. sometimes he pulls one back at the last second just to eat it himself. the offended noise you make afterward always dissolves into laughter, your breath warm and shaky against his shoulder while the waves continue their slow rhythm beyond the sand.
megumi finds that he likes that sound more than he expected.
then there are the afternoons when you drag him somewhere new along the coast, slipping away from the busier parts of the beach and weaving through narrow rock paths until the two of you find the hidden stretch of water you like best. the rocks there rise tall enough to block the wind, forming a quiet little pocket of ocean where the water glows clear and blue beneath the sun.
megumi steps carefully along the wet stones, watching where he places his feet.
you, however, move like you’ve known the place your entire life.
your laughter echoes between the rocks when you reach back to grab his arm, tugging him toward the water before he can protest. the stones are slick with dark green algae and he nearly slips more than once, earning a dramatic look from you each time as if you’re personally offended by his lack of balance.
your silent scolding always comes with narrowed eyes and a firm grip on his sleeve, pulling him farther away from the sharp edges until the two of you finally dive beneath the cool surface together.
the water wraps around you instantly, muffling the outside world into quiet blue stillness.
beneath the surface the light bends through the water in soft shifting patterns, illuminating small clusters of coral where schools of fish dart back and forth like flashes of living color. sometimes they move so quickly that they brush against megumi’s arms or legs, their tiny bodies flicking past his skin before disappearing again into the reef.
you always surface first, pushing your hair back as you laugh quietly, the sound echoing between the rocks while droplets of seawater catch the sunlight around you.
megumi never quite knows what expression he’s wearing in those moments.
he only knows that the sound of his name always seems to follow right after.
megumi pushes wet hair out of his eyes just as a bit of seawater slips the wrong way into his nose. he turns his head immediately, sneezing once, then again, blinking hard as the sting fades.
the reaction earns a bright burst of laughter from you.
megumi looks over at you, brows knitting together in mild offense even though the corner of his mouth has already betrayed him.
“what’s so funny?” he asks, irritation carefully placed into his tone.
you tilt your head, still laughing.
“you.”
that’s it.
just you.
your laughter lingers another second before it abruptly cuts off when a splash of water hits your mouth. you cough slightly, blinking as you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, clearly offended.
you squint.
“you little—”
your hands smack down onto the surface of the ocean, sending a wave of water straight toward him. megumi recoils half a second too late, and then the retaliation begins in full.
water slaps loudly against the rocks as the two of you start splashing back and forth, each attack more aggressive than the last. droplets glitter in the sunlight as they fly through the air, catching in your hair and clinging to megumi’s eyelashes while your laughter mixes with the crashing of water.
eventually you’re the first to break.
you cough again between breaths, lifting both hands in the air in defeat.
“i surrender!” you wheeze, waving one arm dramatically above the water. “i surrender!”
megumi finally stops, chest rising and falling as the adrenaline of the moment fades.
then he laughs.
not the quiet scoff he usually hides behind his sleeve, but a full, genuine laugh that escapes him before he can stop it. it rolls up from his chest, warm and unguarded, and the sound lingers between the rocks as the last ripples of the water settle around them. (a/n: hes so pretty it’s unreal)
you stare at him for a moment. your hair has fallen completely over your face by now, strands sticking to your cheeks and eyelashes as you squint through the mess.
without really thinking about it, he reaches forward.
his fingers slide through the damp strands, brushing them gently away from your eyes and tucking them to the side. somewhere in the motion his hand ends up cupping your cheek, cool seawater dripping from his wrist while his thumb rests briefly near your temple.
he doesn’t seem to notice.
“you look like a wet poodle,” he says, the teasing edge in his voice softer now.
you blink up at him, unimpressed.
“says the one whose family relative is a sea urchin.”
megumi’s brows lift slightly.
“oh-ho,” he says, leaning a little closer with mock curiosity. “little missy’s starting to bite back now?”
his fingers pinch your cheek lightly.
you smack his hand away instantly, cheeks puffing in protest. “cause you suck!”
megumi grins, his eyes glinting as he extends both hands toward your shoulders. you lean slightly, curiosity painted across your wet, glowing face. your eyes widen as he smirks, leaning closer, and you start to protest, “wait—”
before you can finish, he pushes down, dunking you under the water just like you had done to him a few minutes ago. bubbles rush past your nose as you resurface, sniffling and coughing lightly, water clinging to your lashes.
“you know what,” you gasp, water dripping from your hair, “i’ll give you that one.”
you extend a hand, and megumi meets it with a high five, but his palm lingers against yours a second longer, fingers brushing and holding in a way that makes your chest flutter slightly.
then, you remember something, eyes lighting up. “oh! i have to teach you something!” you exclaim, bouncing slightly in the water.
“oh, what now?” he scoffs in irritation. but you know better, his tone means nothing.
“okay, so,” you start, splashing your hands for emphasis, “you take a deep breath,” demonstrating with a long inhale, “then you dive as far down as you can, twist your body so you’re facing up, and open your eyes! trust me, it’s so freaking cool!”
megumi presses a hand over his face, shielding his eyes from the splashes and the sun, a half-grin tugging at his lips.
he huffs out a shaky laugh, “okay, okay! let me try. but if my eyes sting from the salt, it’s your fault,” the corner of his mouth quirking despite the warning in his voice.
he inhales, chest swelling with the deep pull of the sea air, then plunges beneath the surface. the water envelops him, cool and dense, pressing softly against his skin. he twists, turns his body as you instructed, and slowly opens one eye, then the other.
everything blurs at first; the shifting currents, the way the sunlight fractures into dancing shards through the water. his eyes sting lightly, a sharp reminder of the salt, but he can’t pull away from the sight before him. the light filters through the waves in streaks of gold and sapphire, moving like liquid fire across the dark blue expanse. in that moment, it’s as if he’s floating in the sky, weightless and untethered, drawing closer to the sun with each heartbeat.
then a shadow passes over him, soft and deliberate, and his chest tightens. you swim above, backlit by the sun, hair clinging to your face and shoulders, the light haloing around you like an angel.
compelled by some strange gravity, he extends his hands, tracing the curve of your shoulder, letting the tips of his fingers brush your skin, and then moving higher to graze your cheek. through the blur of water and the sting in his eyes, he sees your smile, small but utterly luminous, and his lids droop slightly, savoring the image like sunlight stored in memory.
you lean closer, and without thinking, he mirrors you, letting the distance collapse, the tip of your nose nearly brushing his. time seems to stretch, the water holding them suspended.
and just as the space between you narrows, a small rush of bubbles escapes his lips, a sharp reminder of the air he’s running out of. he kicks hard with his legs, shooting upward, and breaks through the surface in one hurried rush.
the heat of the afternoon pressed gently against megumi’s skin as he lay sprawled on the balcony, the wooden boards warm beneath him. the sun spilled over the edge of the roof, slipping past gojo’s shadow as he leaned lazily against the railing. a faint breeze rustled through the leaves nearby, carrying the mingled scent of salt from the sea and the faint sweetness of tangerines still lingering in his senses from earlier days.
“where have you been off to, megumi-chan?” gojo’s voice sliced through the quiet, drawing him from the haze of memory.
megumi squinted, letting the warmth press against his face, a faint crease between his brows. “i got sidetracked in town,” he said flatly, eyes closing again, offering nothing more.
the rhythmic chirping of crickets filled the air, a sharp, high-pitched symphony that grated against his ears. he could almost hear the memory of your voice explaining how the insects’ song had marked your childhood afternoons, the sound weaving into the heat of the sun itself.
gojo scoffed, grinning, and with a casual flick he tugged megumi’s shirt up and shoved a packaged popsicle against his bare stomach. the cold hit instantly, he yelped, pulling it free, grumbling under his breath, but the pale green treat gleamed in the sunlight, and the sweet, frosty scent made him pause. he tore the wrapper carefully and let the ice melt slowly on his tongue, the cool mint cutting through the warmth of the day.
the balcony fell silent, save for the distant crash of waves and the persistent chirping.
“i know you’ve been seeing her.” gojo’s face was unreadable behind the dark lenses of his glasses, his voice quiet, almost heavy. “why?”
megumi stayed silent for a long beat, the popsicle melting faster in his hand, its cold dripping onto his palm.
finally, his voice, soft and shaky, broke through. “you always tell me to be selfish… so i decided to take it into action.”
gojo’s reply came slow, deliberate, as if weighing the weight of every word. “are you willing to be selfish… enough for another, so much so that you will destroy yourself afterward?” there was a tremor in his tone, one that suggested he had felt the same.
megumi’s head bowed, voice barely more than a whisper, unstable in the edges “just this summer… let me…”
“please… satoru.”
the popsicle in his hand softened, its shape collapsing in the sun, melting faster than he could notice. the sweetness dripped down his fingers, sticky and fleeting, and somehow mirrored the ache in his chest.
gojo said nothing. silent in a way he never had before.
for a moment, megumi felt utterly alone and completely seen all at once.
“she’s sick?”
“yes, young man,” the old woman beside your stall looked up from the bundle of dried herbs she had been tying together with thin twine. adjusting the little round glasses perched low on her nose.
megumi stood there for a second longer than necessary, staring at the empty stall spot.
without the wooden counter that was covered in the faded doodles of tangerines you had once proudly told him about, the little uneven tangarines drawn by your younger self when your grandmother had decided the stand needed “more personality.”
normally you were there.
perched behind that counter with that bright tangerine-colored hat on your head and sleeves rolled up, greeting every passerby with a grin that showed all your teeth.
megumi swallowed, something uneasy settling in his chest.
“she’ll be fine,” the old woman added casually, waving a hand as if it were nothing serious. “caught a bit of a fever. happens when people forget they’re human and try to work every day.”
megumi nodded once.
then, somehow. he found himself standing in front of your house.
he wasn’t entirely sure how it had happened.
one minute he had been walking through the market, the next he had a bag clutched awkwardly in his hand, stuffed with things he barely remembered buying; cold tablets, instant soup packets, bottled tea, and a few other things the pharmacist had recommended while eyeing him suspiciously.
now he stood at your front door.
the house was small and warm-looking, tucked quietly along the narrow street. wind chimes hung from the porch roof, swaying gently whenever the breeze drifted through, their soft clinking mixing with the distant sound of cicadas buzzing in the afternoon heat.
megumi stared at the door like it had personally offended him.
what was he doing?
megumi stood on your small wooden porch with his hand lifted halfway toward the door, fingers hovering uncertainly in the air like he had forgotten what they were supposed to do. after a moment the courage drained right back out of him, and his hand slowly dropped to his side again.
instead of knocking, he started pacing. the porch wasn’t very big, which made the movement almost ridiculous. three steps forward, turn, three steps back, turn again, over and over until the soft creak of the boards beneath his shoes began to repeat in a quiet rhythm.
his thoughts spiraled faster with every lap.
you two were… close.
right?
close enough to sit on the beach for hours talking about nothing and everything at the same time. close enough to share tangerines and stupid stories and long stretches of silence that somehow never felt uncomfortable. close enough that your laugh had started living somewhere in the back of his head without his permission.
but were you close enough for this?
close enough that he could just show up at your house uninvited after asking random market ladies where you lived? megumi slowed his pacing, glancing down at the bag in his hand like it had personally betrayed him.
this looked bad.
actually— this looked really bad.
what if you thought he was stalking you?
what if you thought he was some weird guy who had followed you home and was now standing outside your house with a suspiciously thoughtful get-well package?
what if you thought he was trying to murd—
the door suddenly opened.
megumi froze mid-step.
you stood there in the halfway open doorway with one hand still resting on the handle as you blinked up at him slowly. your face was half-hidden behind the frame. your hair looked messier than usual, like you had only half bothered brushing it before giving up, and you were wrapped in an oversized shirt that slipped lazily off one shoulder.
for a moment neither of you spoke.
then you tilted your head slightly, studying him.
“you think loudly,” you said.
“…huh?” megumi was still standing there like someone had paused him mid-animation.
you pushed the door open a little wider with a soft creak, leaning your shoulder against the frame.
“i could hear you from the living room,” you explained, your voice rough with the remnants of your cold. “the pacing gave it away. you walk in circles when you overthink.”
megumi blinked. “…you could hear that?”
“very dramatic pacing.” you nodded with complete seriousness.
his ears turned red immediately. “i wasn’t pacing dramatically,”
he shifted the paper bag in his hand before awkwardly extending it toward you, the crinkle of the paper loud in the quiet doorway.
“the ladies at the market told me where you lived,” he explained, words coming out a little clumsier than he meant them to. “they saw you hanging out with me before and… told me i should bring you something to help you get better. so i— yeah. i did.”
you looked down at the bag. then slowly back up at him. “…are you going to leave when i take it?”
for a brief second he simply stared at you. at the small pout forming on your face, the way your shoulders were wrapped tightly in that oversized t-shirt. the faint redness around your nose and eyes that made you look both miserable and unfairly cute.
‘you are god’s strongest soldier, megumi.’ he told himself.
“i— should probably leave,” he said, scratching lightly at the back of his neck. “i have something planned with my friends, so—”
the door shut directly in his face.
megumi blinked. his hand was still raised in the air where he had been holding out the bag.
your muffled voice came from the other side. “i won’t take it then.”
megumi lowered his hand slowly. a quiet chuckle slipped out of him before he could stop it, warm and a little helpless. he stepped forward again and placed his hand lightly against the door, knocking once.
“i won’t leave,” he said. “open up.”
the door creaked fully open again a second later.
and there you were; nose pink from your cold and eyes just slightly glassy from fever or allergies or whatever had knocked you out for the day. you sniffled once as you looked up at him, clearly trying to maintain the same offended expression from earlier.
in megumi’s mind you looked like you were glowing. it was ridiculous. you were sick, sniffling, clearly exhausted, and yet somehow you still managed to look completely adorable standing there.
a quiet laugh slipped from him again. your pout deepened immediately, already suspicious that he was about to tease you. megumi reached forward before you could protest and lightly flicked the tip of your nose. “rudolph.”
behind him the door shut with a soft thud as you groaned dramatically. “that’s such a lame joke.”
“for you,” he replied easily, already wandering further inside like he belonged there.
the moment he stepped past the doorway, the house seemed to unfold around him in color.
it was bright, almost overwhelmingly so, but not in a messy way. it felt warm. alive. like every corner had been touched by someone who believed the world should be cheerful even when it had no reason to be.
wind chimes hung near the windows, their soft notes clinking together whenever the breeze slipped through the open panes. threaded between them were thin slices of dried tangerines, translucent in the sunlight as they swayed gently back and forth like little amber coins. strings of beads hung in place of door curtains, brushing lightly against megumi’s shoulders and tapping against his back as he walked through them. sunlight streamed through colored glass set into the windows, scattering warm patches of gold, orange, and pale green across the walls.
and everything, everything smelled like tangerines.
bright, sharp citrus that lingered in the corners of the room, layered over the warm, familiar scent of a house that had been lived in for generations.
and beneath it— you.
megumi froze mid-step, the world narrowing to that realization.
wait.
you?
it hit him all at once. holy shit. he was inside your house. your house. where everything, every surface, every corner, every stray thread of warmth in the air, smelled like you. he inhaled without thinking, chest tightening instantly, and immediately regretted it. his shoulders stiffened.
‘holy shit, i smell her everywhere. why does it smell so much like her? am i going to throw up? no— no, that’s not it—'
then his heart started racing, fast and loud enough that he could feel it in his throat.
‘oh god. why is my heart beating this fast? holy shit. am i going to have a heart attack—'
you nudged his side with your elbow, soft but firm. megumi jumped slightly, blinking down at you, eyes wide, chest still hammering. somehow his face was even redder than yours now.
“are you okay?” you asked, squinting up at him suspiciously.
“yeah— just…” he rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around the room again like it had personally overwhelmed him. “…a lot to take in.”
“grandma always wanted everything to be bright,” you said, voice softer now. “even if it didn’t really match or make sense.” your fingers brushed lightly along the edge of the counter as you walked.
“she said you can’t stay sad if there’s color in your life.”
megumi looked back at you.
even sick, you were still dressed like you had walked out of the house with your eyes closed and somehow made it work anyway. your sshirt didn’t match your pants, and both had little stitched patches and patterns scattered across them in different shades.
meanwhile he stood there in his usual dull color palette. dark pants, and a grey t-shirt that only stood out because of the cartoon character printed on the front. (itadori’s shirt that that idiot had left it in his dorm and megumi mixed it up.)
“your grandma is right.” he simply said.
he set the paper bag down on the counter and began pulling out the things he’d brought.
“she is, isn’t she?” you said proudly.
you drifted over beside him, your nose was still red from wiping it too much, and your lips looked dry, but the excitement in your expression made it obvious you were enjoying this far more than someone sick probably should.
you started opening cupboards one by one, pointing lazily inside them as you went.
“bowls are here.”
another cupboard opened.
“spoons are here.”
then a drawer.
“and that’s where the good spoons are, but grandma says i’m not allowed to give those to guests because they’re ‘ceremonial’ or something.”
megumi nodded slowly, committing the information to memory like it was a mission briefing. once he seemed to have everything figured out, megumi glanced over his shoulder and pointed toward the couch in the living room.
“lay down, i got it from here,” he said, his voice low but firm, like there was no room for argument.
“no, i want to keep you company,” you protested.
“you can keep me company once you lay down,”
“but i can’t see your face from that angle,” you whined.
megumi fumbled with the pot in his hands, almost dropping it, and shot you a glare sharp enough to make you giggle.
“what got you so clumsy, gumiiii?” you teased.
he muttered under his breath, “shut up and sit down on the couch,” before taking a careful step toward you.
“no, i— ah!” you yelped as he scooped you up effortlessly in a smooth, bridal-style lift, carrying you over without so much as a pause.
he set you down gently on the couch, fluffing the pillows around you with precise, practiced movements. you pouted, trying, and failing to glare at him in retaliation, while he quietly fought the damn urge to bite your cheek out of sheer irritation at your adorableness.
his hand brushed over your forehead, smoothing away strands of damp hair stuck to your skin, and he felt the warmth radiating from your sickness. a soft tsk escaped him, and he grabbed the thermometer from the table, giving it a quick shake before extending it to you.
“rest. i’ll go make the soup,” he murmured, fingers lingering for a moment on your cheek.
you let out a small, drawn-out huff, “fineeee…”
he offered a faint, almost shy smile and turned to his task, moving through the kitchen like he belonged there. you called to him every now and then from the couch, a soft voice carrying over the space, until exhaustion finally pulled the words from you.
megumi paused mid-motion, noticing the sudden silence. worry knotted in his chest, and he padded back to the living room to check on you. and when he saw you curled up, eyelids heavy, the faint rise and fall of your breath steady, he let himself relax.
the smell of the soup made your nose twitch, pulling you awake just enough to peek at megumi. he was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you, spoon in hand, swirling it gently in the steaming bowl, blowing over the surface in careful puffs before pressing his lips briefly to the spoon to check the temperature. his brows were furrowed in concentration.
he extended the spoon toward you once he seemed satisfied. you sat up on the cushions, letting him guide it to your lips, trusting that he had cooled it just right. the warmth slid down your throat, soothing and gentle, and a soft hum of contentment escaped you.
“is it good?” his voice was tentative, almost shy.
“perfect,” you said, thought it wasn’t really aimed at the soup. then a thought struck you. “wait— did you put tangerines in here?”
megumi tilted the spoon, swirling the soup again. “you mentioned once that your grandma used to put a bit of citrus in,” he said, then blew across the surface and pressed his lips to it once more before extending it toward you.
you watched him in quiet awe, marveling at how he repeated the process with such care, each small motion precise, deliberate, as if tending to a fragile ritual. he hummed softly in delight as he offered each spoonful, his lips brushing the surface before you tasted it, until finally, the bowl was empty.
he pushed back, reaching for the dishes, but you waved him off with a small laugh. “don’t. come here.”
he hesitated, then obeyed, letting himself slide closer to the couch. you motioned for him to sit beside you. he did, still leaning in slightly, eyes flicking to your flushed face as if measuring your temperature again even though he had already checked twice while you slept.
“yeah?” he prompted, quiet but steady.
you looked at him for a long moment, taking in the scene.
the boy you had crashed into with your bike, the one who had argued and teased and disappeared so easily from your life, was now here, in your home, cooking soup for you while you were sick. the sun’s last rays filtered through the colorful paned glass of your windows, painting warm streaks of orange, green, and gold across his skin. the light caught the small dust motes in the air, making it feel as if the room itself was holding its breath.
slowly, you extended your hand, letting your fingers brush against his cheek, the warmth of the sun blending with the warmth of his skin. the colors of the light mixed on his face, yellow and blue merging into soft green, like a quiet painting come alive.
“i’m being real selfish keeping you with me,” you murmured, voice barely above the hum of the evening.
megumi froze for a heartbeat, then shifted closer, his head finding the edge of the couch right beside yours. he didn’t care about how stiff his neck would get. he didn’t care about anything but the quiet closeness of you. “no, you aren’t,” he said softly. “if anything… i’m the selfish one.”
“can you… stay?”
“for as long as you want me to,” he replied, voice gentle and unwavering.
at some point, your eyes closed, surrendering to sleep. megumi watched you with careful attentiveness, memorizing the gentle rise and fall of your chest, the soft furrow of your brow in dreams, the way your lashes cast tiny shadows on your cheeks. his heart thudded in his chest, heavy and unfamiliar. he swallowed hard against the strange tightness in his throat.
leaning in slowly, he brushed a few stray strands of hair from your face, tucking them behind your ear with delicate fingers. then, cautiously, he lowered his head. his lips hovered over yours, a whisper of warmth against your skin. barely touching, just a hint of pressure, soft and deliberate, testing, savoring. the brush of his mouth against yours sent a shiver through him.
he held it there selfishly for a few seconds, long enough to feel the softness of your lips, the quiet rhythm of your breathing against his own, careful not to wake you. the world outside, all of it, melted into the small, intimate space between your faces.
when he pulled back, it was just enough to rest his forehead lightly against yours as his eyes drank in every detail of your sleeping face.
he committed it all; the curve of your lips, the tilt of your nose, the softness of your expression. to memory, precise and unshakable, like a photograph etched into the center of his chest.
megumi fushiguro let himself be selfish that summer.
selfish in the way he stole away his friends summer with him. choosing instead to linger beside you on the beach, inhaling the warm, sweet scent of your sunscreen as you lay close. your oversized tangerine hat dipped over your face, and when he leaned down to tug it just enough to shade his own eyes, you giggled, and the two of you ended up hidden under the straw, a little sun-shielded world of your own making.
selfish in the way he insisted it was too hot on a chilly night by the shore, just to press his jacket around you and breathe in the lingering smell of you afterward when he returned to the rented apartment, cradling the jacket to his chest as if he could somehow trap that warmth forever.
selfish in the way he found himself at your house more often than not, drawn in by the scent of tangerines mingling with whatever you had prepared for lunch. portions slowly became meant for two, and the two of you would sit beneath the tangerine tree in your garden, sunlight warming your shoulders, content simply in each other’s presence.
he never spoke of you to the others, except gojo, who already knew. he wanted this, this summer, entirely to himself. the others’ reactions, frustration, worry, confusion, when they saw him less and less, wondering where he went might have eaten at him if he had noticed.
megumi appeared happier than ever, though a faint sadness clung to him like a second skin.
“just a little more,” he whispered to himself, “just for this summer.”
and as summer edged toward its end, faster than he had ever noticed, megumi realized that he had given his entire summer to you, and he would never take it back.
he kept his mind off the thing clinging to your soul, lingering in shadows he didn’t want to face, and instead let himself sink into these last golden moments. watching your hair tangle in the wind, the sun glint off your skin as you walked together along the shore, sticks in hand from doodling hearts, dogs and tangerines into the sand.
he extended his hand behind him without thinking, and reached out to catch it instantly, intertwining your fingers. you lifted your intertwined hands to warm them with your breath, his thumb brushing your skin with a gentle familiarity that had become second nature.
“can’t believe you got outsmarted by a seagull!” you teased, laughter bubbling as the memory from that morning replayed.
“hey,” he protested, puffing out his chest just slightly, “that seagull was clearly experimented on by humans to reach that level of intelligence.”
you laughed, lifting your free hand to pinch his cheek. “just keep telling your pride that, gumi.”
he made a face of mock disgust, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him, curling into a quiet smile.
oh, how he loved when you called him that, the nickname rolling off your tongue like a soft melody he wanted to memorize forever.
his phone buzzed in his pocket, but he ignored it, letting the rhythm of your steps along the shore fill his attention instead. he knew this path by heart now, just as he knew you. the sun had nearly sunk behind the horizon, and the warm glow of town lamps flicked on, signaling the end of the day for the local children, their laughter fading as they were called home.
you reached into the pockets of his jacket, draped comically over your shoulders and pulled out a few dried tangerine peels. “ah, wait— i’ll toss these,” you said, stepping behind him toward a trashcan you’d spotted earlier.
megumi stayed in place, watching you walk, the jacket slipping slightly as it hung on your small frame. he couldn’t wait for tonight when he’d come back to the apartment, letting sleep take him with your scent pressed against him from the jacket.
“fushiguro?”
he froze.
“…itadori?”
the familiar voice carried a strange weight. megumi’s gaze flicked to him, taking in the furrowed brow, the tight jaw, the sudden tension coiling in itadori’s posture. frustration? worry? fear? the mix made his chest tighten. why was he worried about him?
“what are you doing with the curse?” itadori demanded, eyes sharp.
megumi’s lungs seemed to seize; the air around him thickened. he stood rigid, heart hammering, thoughts scattering in panic.
“w-what?” he stammered, voice low and unsteady.
“gojo-sensei told me—”
“megumiii!”
he turned sharply, watching you rush toward him, not registering the chaos around him nor itadori standing a few feet away. your hand stretched out before you even reached him, fingers ready to tangle with his once more.
from all the memories he’d held that summer, that one burned the brightest.
he remembers the smell of salt in the air, the feeling of the wind that tugged at his hair and yours, the way it quickened as it swept across the beach. he remembered your smile, wide as always, cheeks flushed from laughing too hard, those little lines at the corners of your eyes he loved so much.
he remembers the metallic scent, sharp and unmistakable that clung to his skin. sticky and warm. he felt as if your blood burned his fingers.
he remembered it all, though he wished he couldn’t.
megumi hates tangerines.
not the casual kind of hate, the kind people speak of when a fruit is too sour or sticky, but the kind that wraps around your chest and squeezes until it hurts. he hates the peel curling between his fingers, the scent burning too sweet into his nose, the way the juice stings the small cuts along his nails. he hates the careful, meticulous work of separating each segment, picking away the white threads like some cruel ritual he cannot stop. he hates the glow of the fruit in his palm, how it seems almost alive, how it fills the room with a light that makes everything else feel too sharp, too real.
the tangerines, the way they fill the air with that faint citrus scent, everything about it is a cruel echo of a memory he can’t let go of.
he hates how his body betrays him, how he lifts a slice to his side as if expecting your lips to wrap around and hum in delight, head leaning on his shoulder as you chew.
and still, when he finishes the last piece, the room faintly scented with sugar and sunlight, the tears he’s been holding back spill anyway. his hands tremble, and he inevitably retches it all out of his system as if it’s some poison.
he hits gojo’s chest, each strike harder than the last, feeling the taut muscle beneath, refusing to use his technique. gojo takes it all. the punches, the grief, the tears because he knows this pain all too well, knows it far too intimately.
and each night, megumi presses that damn hat to his chest, the one little thing he allows himself to keep. he falls asleep, hoping something, anything, could take him away.
@sanemistar, @showhay, @honey-i-love-chevy, @falsedivide, @nanaschef, @starspenxcie, @sxpernova, @his-lune (guys im so sorry for tagging y'all so much-)
currently writing part 2 of errare humanum est so ofc the existential dread playlist is ON 😌
no pressure tags: @mannythemunchkin @xonyoka @junos-chronicles @designerpvssy @sweethearticism @getopied @cupidstrace @yunamoona @sugurusladyknightt @cherrys-wrld and anyone else who would like to join <3 <3
SCREW y'all . My favorite apple is Red Delicious, I make hot chocolate out of water instead of milk, I take 98% of the marshmallows out of lucky charms, I don't like mac and cheese if it's too cheesy, I take the frosting off of cupcakes, AND I remove the insides of pizza rolls .
And I could keep going if I wanted to 😒
Don’t even get me started on what I do to stuffed crust
ఌ︎. Imagine being one of the women who got kidnapped by aliens wanting to experiment on you, staging a revolt, and crash-landing on a prehistoric hellscape. Now imagine a bunch of hot, feral men who’ve never seen a human woman before declaring you guys as their respective, fated mates. Yeah. It’s that kind of story. Is it too late to go back to the alien scientists?
ఌ︎. Chapter SEVEN - decisions and bonding
Synopsis: in which the last day to back out has arrived, leaving all five women with a choice to make: to leave or not to.
Warnings: READ THE TAGS PLS DEAD DOVE ALERT pretty much 100% smut - alien style, p in v and other things (anal, alien anatomy, somnophilia(Su-Ku-Na and briefly Cho-So)/dubcon/cnc+primal play(Ken-To)/biting/binding/gagging/lotta munches here/mutual masturbation/body marking/femdom), swear words, threat of violence, predatory/barbaric behaviour, BARELY PROOFREAD - pls let me know if there are any mistakes/typos!
Word Count: 15.3k
ఌ︎. MASTERLIST
“I apologise for intruding,” Ken-To began.
The five women had been waiting in the medbay this morning — the last warm morning they were going to see for a while. At least it would be, if they chose to stay. They were all standing in anticipation of his arrival. Blue had her arm strung over Purple, whilst the other three were dotted separately inside.
Most of them had spent the night there, after they were too full and exhausted after dinner to seek out their mates, all of which left them alone. Only Yellow had been with her mate, by simple virtue of him snatching her away in the middle of the night. She entered in the morning, carrying bundles of fruits and a pink-ish flatbread.
She baked it, she explained.
They marvelled at the existence of flour, then realised applying Earthly logic and understanding of human development was pointless — all sorts were possible on this planet, even the impossible. Despite knowing that very well, they wondered if they would ever get used to being surprised.
Yellow had also informed them that Ken-To would be following shortly to talk to all of them, so none of them left.
And there he was, making new declarations, and setting them on edge.
“There is much to be said, I understand, but allow me to begin with an apology.”
That caught their attention.
Standing straighter, they listened intently. Whatever he had to say, it must have been important. It always was, when it came to the tribe’s leader.
He gave his mate a small smile, one which she returned. The others giggled. She tried not to let heat rise to her cheeks.
“I apologise for the danger you have faced and the injuries you sustained because of our carelessness. And I thank you for your patience, understanding, and continued trust in us in spite of our shortcomings.”
Green shook her head. “We don’t blame you, any of you. A lot of what happened to us was our own fault, and at times, simply because of someone else’s doing entirely.”
She didn’t elaborate further, and the other girls didn’t want her to. That much had been specified in their discussion the day prior. It was far too complicated, they decided. An unnecessary detail in an already messed up and exhausting existence. There was no need to blow the minds of the poor Kaisens, who wouldn’t understand intergalactic politics. Not lest they had a reason to know, but that was best kept to the women’s respective discretion.
Ken-To must have sensed that that was as much as she was going to say, because he did not press. Instead, he replied, “You are too kind.” He gave them all an appreciative nod. “Then, allow me to apologise for deceiving you.”
That, too, caught their attention.
When had Horns lied to them? What about? And why?
Though, as all those questions surfaced in their individual minds, none felt apprehension, merely curiosity.
“At the beginning, when I told you all that we would like you to consider bearing our offspring, that was a lie.”
The women didn’t gasp, didn’t splutter their offence. They already had their suspicions after none of the men pressed them on the subject further since. In fact, it was rather easy to forget that conversation had ever happened at all; so much happened in the span of a week that one or two of them even had to think twice to recall what he was referring to.
It helped, one could suppose, that they didn’t think interspecies reproduction was possible to begin with.
Horns added, “My men and I, after lengthy debate, came to the conclusion that we must find a way to encourage you all to stay, to give us the chance to court you. We could not face the possibility of losing our mates, you see.” His gaze fell upon his own, eyes softening. “In truth, none of us care very much at all about bearing children, for various, personal reasons. We were unwise in our actions, and it must have frightened you. For that, I apologise.”
“Pssh,” Purple scoffed. “Don’t sweat it. What’s a little white lie to get laid?”
“It takes an honourable man to admit his mistakes,” one of the girls said. “We don’t hold anything against you.”
“How can we after all the trouble we put you through?”
“See, Ken? I told you they wouldn’t be mad.”
He released a sound that resembled a chuckle, snaking an arm around Yellow and pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You are all most gracious.” Then he sighed, brows suddenly furrowing in thought. “I am afraid apologising was not the only reason I called you all here. There is one other thing.”
They stiffened, eyes meeting each others’. It was becoming a terrible habit for heavy news to be dropped on them inside tents. Almost as if they were cursed. What was it this time, they wondered.
“Today marks the last day of warmth. Tomorrow the storm arrives, and it does not slowly creep in; the change is almost instantaneous. We fear your bodies may not handle the sudden change.” A deep frown marred his face, one they all couldn’t help but reflect. “We have taken precautions to ensure your wellbeing — tonics, berries and powders to warm the belly, thicker clothes and blankets, insulation for our homes — but there is a possibility it will not be enough.”
Blue looked through the opening in the tent, at the perfectly clear skies, and mused aloud, “How bad can it get?”
That seemed to be the question the others thought too.
“Many children do not live through the winter,” Horns replied, a solemn expression and tone they picked up on immediately. “Some do not live past the first week. Our elders are especially vulnerable; some tribes use the storm as an opportunity to put out of their misery those that struggle the most. Even strong, healthy Kaisens can fall victim, often starting with a maddening fever, then paralysis, and finally, death. It stands to reason then that none of us would like to test the limits of your foreign bodies.”
Frightened murmurings rippled. Yellow leaned closer to his body, hand tucking themselves under his woolen covering.
Crossing her arms, the girl in green asked, “You have a plan?”
He hummed. “It is only a thought. As you may all know by now, the mate bond brings about changes to our bodies, a strengthening of sorts. It is our belief we do not reach our full potential until we have completed the mate bond — a conscious releasing of our…seed.”
They grimaced at the same time he did.
At least he had enough tact to know that was not something girls wanted to hear first thing in the morning.
“Different tribes have different customs, but at the core of it, there must be an acknowledgement and acceptance of the bond.” Ken-To tried to smile; his embarrassment due the sensitive topic didn’t let him. “We believe —hope— that those changes will occur in you too. Your body heals faster the more physical and emotional contact you make with your mate, yes?”
No one denied that..
“Then perhaps accepting the mating bond will help your bodies adapt to the winter. It will surely help your mates, at the least.”
“So you want us to fuck them. Again,” all but one of them said in unison. They shared a glance and laughed.
Ken-To smiled. “Yes. I understand it sounds much like the lies I uttered at the beginning, but I promise to you all now that I tell only our honest thoughts. I would like for us all to emerge from the storm alive and well. However, we will never make that decision for you; I was firm with my men that you must decide all on your own. Do tell me if they pressure you in any way.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” the girl in purple said, saluting.
And with that, they were left with yet another decision to make.
Sa-To-Ru
You saw him out in the field, messing with what looked like vines and slabs of wood.
His back was facing you.
Carefully, you crept up behind him, tiptoeing and holding your breath. You pounced. “Aha—HEY!”
Sa-To-Ru whipped around at the last second, arms caging you up in the air. His boisterous clicking rubbed salt on the wound. “Beetbeet, you tried to surprise me? You are adorable.” He snuggled up to your cheek, inhaling deeply and peppering kisses on your face. “So cute, I could just eat you up.”
Grumbling, you punched his shoulder. “How did you even know I was coming?”
“I can smell you,” he answered, words coming out muffled as he bit your cheek and playfully chewed. “And I am thankful you finally bathed — you are easier on my nose this way.”
He only laughed harder when you shoved his face away.
What an asshole, you thought, though there was a smile on your face.
Curiously, after he stopped chortling, you pointed to the vines and wood, and asked, “What’s this?”
Sa-To-Ru answered, “I am building a ladder so you can climb up and down our tree.” Folded into a sitting position, he kept you in his lap as he continued working.
You frowned slightly. “Can’t you just carry me up and down, like you’ve been doing before?”
His tail swished onto your hands, and you fiddled with it absentmindedly, stroking and petting like it was a cat. Above you, he buried his nose in your hair and made some pleased noise. “I will, but there might come a time where you need to get up, or down, and I am not there. I cannot leave you stranded, silly.”
It was an awfully long way up from the ground to the top, and you could already see how easily you could slip and fall on your own on rickety pieces of wood. The safest way up was to be taken by him, a purposeful decision he must have made to ensure he wasn’t vulnerable to attacks from wild animals or other Kaisens, you were sure. Still, you figured it wouldn’t hurt to have a back-up plan.
He tied the long vines around the planks of wood with nimbleness that didn’t suit him, and it only gave you a headache to try and figure out what kind of knots he was using.
Soon, he carried you both to your feet.
“Stay, beetbeet,” he said, patting your head. Sa-To-Ru leapt up to the canopy, disappearing high above you so quickly you thought he teleported. The ladder dangled down, unravelling itself. And just as fast as he went, he returned, jumping down right in front of you. He patted your head again. “Good beetbeet.”
You smacked his hand away. “Stop calling me that; I don’t want anything to do with that ugly ass fish.”
Sa-To-Ru bent down to meet your eyes. With a bright smile, he said, “No.”
His tail defended against your attack on his back as he gave the ladder a couple experimental tugs, testing the knots with methodical care. The thick vines held, creaking softly but refusing to slip. He leaned back on his haunches, gaze tracing the path from the forest floor up to the platform nestled in the branches above.
“It will hold,” he decided, voice low with quiet satisfaction.
Before you could argue, he shifted you easily, hands firm at your thighs as he turned and crouched. “Come,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “Hold onto me tightly.”
You hesitated only a second before wrapping your arms around his neck, legs locking around his waist. He rose smoothly, your weight settling against his back like you weighed nothing at all. Sa-To-Ru’s touch was light, though firm, careful of the remnants of your waning injury.
One clawed hand tested the first rung; the other steadied you, thumb pressing briefly into your calf as if to reassure himself you were secure.
Step by step, he climbed.
The height made your stomach flutter, the ground pulling away beneath you faster than you liked. You buried your face between his shoulder and neck, breath warm against his skin. He climbed unhurriedly, muscles flexing beneath you with every movement, tail flicking now and then to counterbalance. Once, the ladder swayed, just slightly — your grip tightened instantly.
“I have you,” he said without looking back, calm as stone. And just like that, the fear eased.
Moments later, his hands found the edge of the platform. He hauled the both of you up with one final, powerful pull, rolling onto solid wood before carefully easing you off his back and into a seated position beside him. The two of you sat on the doorway, staring out at the jungle. The view was amazing in the daytime; you could see so far.
You stared down through the branches, heart still racing.
“…It’s too high,” you muttered, pretending to inspect a loose strand of vine rather than look at him. “I don’t like it. If I have to use that thing…”
A shudder ran through you.
Instead of finishing your thought, you settled for a firm, “You’d better always be here.”
Sa-To-Ru turned, eyes soft, knowing — far too knowing. One finger lifted your chin before you could protest, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I will be,” he said simply.
He leaned in and kissed you. A slow, warm press of lips that stole the rest of your breath and left your pulse thundering in your ears. When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, tail curling around your waist in an unspoken promise.
“I am not leaving you,” he murmured.
Your reply lodged somewhere between your ribs, unspoken, dangerous. The space between you felt charged now, every brush of skin too loud, too aware. His thumb traced idle patterns along your hip, not moving away, not pushing further either — just close enough to make it impossible to forget he was there.
Above the forest, the ladder creaked softly below.
And neither of you moved to break the moment.
“Sa-To-Ru,” you whispered, “about the storm…do you think we should, um, y’know?”
His lips twitched, as did his ears. Behind him, something excitedly whacked the wood. “Should what?”
Oh the dickhead was baiting you — he wanted to hear you say it, wanted to see you embarrass yourself. Well fine, you could do that much; it was for your own good anyway. You’d heal faster and be protected from certain death. That was the only reason you wanted to.
“Mate,” you said, unimpressed. “We should mate.”
“Beetbeet! Is that how your people do things in your home? How terrible. I feel so dirty.”
You punched his chest. He laughed too hard, head thrown back.
“I’m serious, Sa-To-Ru,” you confessed, voice uncharacteristically quiet. Why did it hurt for him to not take you seriously? Did he not want to mate with you? “I want to. Don’t you?”
He pounced on you, landing with a thump on the thick wood, his hand cradling the back of your head. Sa-To-Ru kissed you all over, purring unashamedly. “Of course I do. It is all I have been thinking about. I want to mate you and mark you inside and out with my scent so everyone will know you are mine completely.”
Eyes rolling, you grumbled, “Then just say that, dumbass.”
Sa-To-Ru pecked your lips, lips looking like they were stuck in a permanent grin. He jumped to his feet and began rifling through his chests. Trinkets, parchments, rocks, beaded bracelets and necklaces came out, as did pouches. You picked one up, finding dark blue fruits inside, like raspberries.
“What are these?”
He took one and crushed it between his fingers. Sa-To-Ru smeared it on your nose and cheeks. “For marking.”
The stickiness took you by surprise. You swiped a finger through the juice and tasted it — sweet as any fruit was, but with a tingling sensation on the tongue, and on the skin, now that you noticed it. Like tiny sparks, reminding you of popping candy.
Another kiss was snuck in, and soon he was fiddling with your clothes, unravelling the ties gently. Sa-To-Ru said, voice dropping to a deeper cadence, “My people have a ritual for first matings. It is long, and I do not remember everything. But I do remember this: marking a mate with runes and tribal crests. As a child, I would stare in wonder at the mated pairs who bore marks of each other, proudly claiming them as their own. I have dreamt of marking my mate since.”
You didn’t stop him when your shirt fell away, didn’t feel out of place when his eyes fell upon your breasts, nor when his thumb brushed over a pebbling nipple. Using the remaining juices on his fingers, he drew a line from your shoulder, down your chest, following the curve of your tits. Your body reflexively arched forward.
The way he looked at you raised goosebumps on your skin.
He looked at you like you came from the stars and granted his wish, and the first part was definitely true.
“I have no family of my own — I was raised separately for my ability to see more clearly than others, considered a blessing from the goddess and was treated with reverence.”
This was the first time you were hearing anything about his past. He gave the information up so casually, he could have been talking about the weather. You listened to every syllable as he touched your skin with such gentleness it brought shivers inside you.
“I do not know what markings I would have inherited, what mark represents my mother and father. Still, I imagined I would just know, from my very soul, what I would draw on my mate’s skin when I meet her.”
Sa-To-Ru stopped once the juice ran out, by your belly button. His tail slowed to a stop, and a small, sad smile came upon his lips. “Now that I look at you, at your soft skin, your small, fragile body, already marked with my weakness, with my inability to keep you safe — I think perhaps I have marked you enough.”
A hard shove sent him back. He was taken aback by the suddenness, and not the force. And again when you straddled his hips.
Rolling your eyes with no real heat, you told him, “You talk too much, Sa-To-Ru.”
A couple berries were crushed in your hand too, and you didn’t hesitate to smear them on his bare torso.
“Don’t look down on me just because I’m not as tall as you are,” you scolded him. “I’m not weak and completely helpless. I can grow stronger, more adapted to your world, with time and experience. So mark me, mate me, make me fucking cum and quit acting like some kind of hero.”
Under you, a hard thing throbbed.
He gazed up at you with wide eyes, damn near mesmerised. His hands clutched your hips and subconsciously dragged you back and forth.
“Perfect,” he whispered. “You are perfect.”
Sitting up, he held you to him and kissed you hard, his tongue parting your lips. A claw ripped your pants entirely, and his loincloth was hastily taken apart by your hands. With nothing between you, you grinded on the length of it, gasping at how long and thick he felt.
There was no way anyone could take his cock, but you were sure as hell going to try. Just the thought of it had you drooling.
More berries burst. Fingers drew lines and shapes and words the other didn’t know.
You moaned and groaned and whined. Everywhere he touched tingled, like fire burning beneath the skin. You couldn’t get enough of the way he tasted, of how masculine he smelt, and how desperately he clung onto you.
“Sa-To-Ru, put it in,” you ordered, already dizzy as he licked your neck, and sucked on your pulse point.
Stickiness covered your breasts, chest, stomach, thighs, back and arms. Not an inch was left untouched by his greedy hands. Your entire skin was set alight. A warmth blossomed in your chest, like something had come alive, but not your heart. It felt deeper, bigger, more permanent.
He rasped against your skin, “Not yet. You cannot take it; I will hurt you.”
“No, no, now,” you pleaded. “I can take it. Please –ngh!”
Reason disappeared, leaving behind only a manic need to feel more of him, all of him. Grinding against each other wasn’t enough. Couldn’t ever be enough. You needed to feel him inside you. It was as if you would die if he didn’t shove his cock in your cunt.
He groaned. “I cannot.” His fingers spread your pussy lips, collecting your ample wetness and pushing inside your pulsing cunt. Sa-To-Ru’s whole body twitched at your searing heat.
Your hand yanked on his hair, baring his neck to you. Like you had been possessed by an animal, you sank your teeth where his neck connected to his shoulder, not hard enough to leave anything more than a mere mark — though if he had been human, you would have broken skin.
Sa-To-Ru snarled.
In a flash, you found yourself bent face down on his furs.
Something hard prodded your pussy, and you began panting in anticipation, rendered a bitch in heat. You grabbed onto the blankets beneath you for purchase, waiting for the mindmelting sting as he pushed inch by inch.
It didn’t come.
Only a euphoric bliss you couldn’t have ever expected — a scream tore out of you, followed by a violent shudder. Your hips fucked back, impatient and needing him to bottom out.
The rapid pulsing and squeezing of your cunt forced a growl out of him. His fingers dug painfully into the plush of your ass. His hips rammed forward. Sa-To-Ru gritted out, “You are too tight, yet you are taking me so well.”
He bent forward, torso covering your entire back. He cast a shadow over you, body heat protecting you from the chill of the air. A hand groped your tit, keeping himself steady as he thrusted again and again, stretching your walls, and making you feel him in your fucking lungs.
“I underestimated you,” he admitted. “This body was made for me — your heart, your soul, your pussy…all mine. All fucking mine.”
Slithering up your back, around your neck, tickling your sensitive skin, his tail rubbed along the seam of your lips. Your mouth instinctively opened, and in it went, filling your mouth too.
He was fucking his tail down your throat.
Your moans were muffled. It went deeper and deeper till it stretched your throat out too. From both ends, you were filled up. It was overwhelming, overstimulating, and you’d never felt so good.
Juices readily oozed out of your cunt, thoroughly coating his cock. When you looked down, staring between your legs, you saw droplets drooping and snapping, making a mess all over the bed. It only sent your eyes rolling back.
Sa-To-Ru revelled in the tightness of both your holes. He wasn’t even saying anything understandable, only crazed murmurings that not even your built-in translator could make sense of.
Then finally, he came with a roar.
Hot cum spurted inside you. You came, screaming around the tip of his tail, and drenching the furs below. It ripped out of you, thwacking against the bed for each wave of cum he released inside.
He slumped over you, leaving his entire body weight to rest on your body.
“Ngh! Sa-To-Ru, get off,” you groaned, unable to breathe, and hardly capable of moving any one of your tired limbs.
Rolling over, he panted, blue paint drying on his skin and sweat glistening. Lazily, he dragged you to his side, throwing a leg and his wet tail over your body. It patted your ass, as if trying to lull a child to sleep. “We sleep and go again later,” he mumbled.
You couldn’t imagine experiencing that again — it was far too much for anyone to handle.
Multiple orgasms had wracked your body, sometimes simultaneously, and others one after the other. It shouldn’t have been possible, but then again, it shouldn’t have been possible for him to fit the entire length of his girthy, alien cock inside either. Perhaps it was yet another one of those weird things you had no choice but to accept as part of your life now.
And yet, your whole body ached for more.
As you drifted off to sleep, you briefly wondered how the others would fare.
Cho-So
“Why is he glaring at you?”
The three of you were talking at the fire pit, weaving baskets to help out with the last couple storm preparations. Yellow and Green couldn’t keep their eyes off the looming presence of someone who wasn’t invited.
You glanced over at Cho-So, and shrugged. “He’s been following me since yesterday, and doesn’t seem to know the meaning of personal space.”
He was the last thing you saw before entering the tent last night to have a big sleepover with the girls, and then the first thing you saw when you came out this morning. Of course you knew what he wanted, and you’d eventually give it to him, but not without making him work for it.
Why drag it out?
Why not.
Cho-So was sitting a couple metres away, eyes never leaving your body. His hair was still up in pigtails, although they were a little messy now. You could see even more of his face like this, and damn, he was a fine piece of ass.
Too bad he was a dick and that fine face wasn’t being smothered between your thighs.
“Can you get him to stop?” the girl in yellow whispered. “He looks like he’s going to kill one of us.”
“Pssh, he’s harmless. That’s why he’s been demoted to berry-picking; he can’t fight for shit.”
“I can hear you,” he snarled. “And that is not true — gathering is important, and difficult.”
You ignored him.
“So,” Green began. “Are you going to take him up on the mating bond thing, for that supposed extra boost?”
You hadn’t decided on if you were staying or leaving, and your answer to her question relied heavily on your answer to the first one. What would it take to make you stay, you wondered all night. What did you need?
Love and something real, yes, but could you really get that here? From Cho-So?
Sure he was offering, but did he mean it? Did you want him to mean it?
You’d never questioned yourself as much as you did now; learning that your memories prior to a week ago were fake could do that to a person. Technically, you were only a couple weeks old, so that was quite jarring too.
“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully. “We technically don’t have to, and it’s not like it’ll definitely work. Though, I do wonder if the other two are testing it out right now. Maybe they can tell us.” Resigned jealousy laced your voice and you didn’t think twice about letting it be heard. Then, you asked, “Are you two going to?”
They shared a glance. Yellow was flustered. She looked away. Green simply blinked the question away. Clearly one of them had decided yes and the other was on the same boat as you.
Cho-So growled casually, “Do not question them. It is rude to ask.”
“It’s rude to hang around where you’re not wanted too but you’re doing that, aren’t you?” you snapped.
A sharp smile crept onto his face. He just won. “So now you are talking to me?”
You went back to ignoring him; it was too late, however. He was already basking in his victory.
Fed up, one of the girls groaned, “Go and talk to him already. I can’t take any more of this. I find it uncomfortable that you’re using us as some kind of elongated foreplay.”
“I’m not—”
She held her hand up, uninterested in your weak defence. “Go, seriously. We’ve got this covered. We’re almost finished anyway.”
That was all he needed. In two huge steps, he stood over the three of you, and then threw you over his shoulders. You hung limply, thoroughly humiliated. Whose side was she on anyway? Whatever happened to girls supporting girls?
Smugly, he snarked, “Even your friends tire of your games.”
“Keep talking like this and I’ll leave for good,” you said.
Cho-So fell silent. He carried you away from the field and to his cave.
It was an unfair thing to say, you knew that. But it worked and that was all that mattered.
Once inside his cave, he dropped you off on one of the wooden chests he had, and sat between your legs. You watched him fiddle with his hair, irritated by the locks that had fallen out of the hair ties.
Grumbling under his breath, he said, “It is not fair you want to leave when you have not given me a chance to prove I can be a good mate.”
“That’s ‘cause I don’t think you can be — you’ve been nothing but inhospitable and rude to me, like you genuinely hate me. So, yeah, forgive me if I’m not buying the idea that you’d actually want to take care of me.”
Hair released from the bindings, you combed through his hair with your fingers again.
His shoulders relaxed immediately.
“I lost my family in a fire when I was young,” he said suddenly. Cho-So uttered those words so casually one look at him and you’d think he hadn’t said anything at all. Except, you heard him for sure. “Another tribe came to pillage our village. The Kushu tribe.”
The name was familiar. “Wait, do you mean the same tribe that took my friends? The one To-Ji was a part of?”
Cho-So didn’t look at you when he answered, “Yes. Their warriors were led by To-Ji. I was too young to remember much, but I know that they had set fire to the land. My tribe perished. I was due to myself, but he had pulled me out of the fire for a reason I did not understand then. Ken-To took me in. Since then, I have been living here.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because,” he began, brushing away a pebble from the floor, “I want you to know I am not stupid. I may not be as knowledgeable as the others because of my childhood, but I know things — I can hunt and gather. I can cook and make traps and clothes. If I do not know how to make a mate happy, how to court a female, or what to say, it is only because I was never taught.”
Your gaze softened. “I didn’t mean to make you feel stupid…I was always joking…kinda.”
His tongue flicked out in warning. “Do not pity me. I am not weak. The others call me a wombling but I am a grown Kaisen.”
Arms raised in surrender, you stifled the urge to show him your middle finger. Even when you were having a heart to heart, he was still a pain in the ass, which was explained by the fact that he didn’t have parents to spank said ass when he was badly behaved. Maybe you could it…
“And yes, I did not want a mate. I did not want anything to change here. We were happy, and you females are loud and eat more food and take my space.”
Wryly, you wanted to tell him he was definitely acting like a wombling with how unwilling to share he was. You didn’t, thought; it still wasn’t too late for him to bash you over the head with a rock.
“But if it is you…I can give. My cave, my food, my furs. You can have it all.” You held your breath, half-wanting to laugh over how caught up he was about the damn food and cave, and half-wanting to coo and pinch his cheeks. Again, doing either would get you killed, so you didn’t. Cho-So continued, “I can prove I can be a good mate to you, for you. In exchange, I ask you to give me a chance.”
He turned then, directing the intensity of his stare to you.
“Teach me how to please you. Teach me how to mate, so I can keep you warm for the storm — it is very cold, and someone as noisy and slow as you will definitely die.”
Wow, he was almost sweet.
Fuck, you were horny as hell.
“Show me your cock, Cho-So,” you commanded, squirming on the chest with the itch between your legs. “I want to see what’s behind your loincloth.”
He jerked, a reflex from the sudden frightening request you made. But he stopped himself, and you knew he was making the very brave decision of trusting you. Wise or foolish, only time would tell.
Cloth unravelled and hair brushed, you both kept your eyes focused on one place and one place only.
A soft cock rested on his thigh. Purple. The average size of a hard human dick. Very promising, you thought.
Your nails scraped his scalp. He released a breath, and you watched his cock slowly harden and grow. Cho-So made a noise of surprise. “It is doing it again,” he noted with a little panic. “I do not know why.”
Oh.
Oh.
When he said he didn’t know, he meant it; he really didn’t know a single thing. What had those Kaisens been doing? How could they leave him to his own devices to figure things out all on his own?
“You mean, it’s getting bigger and standing up on its own like the day at the river, when you tried to drown me?”
Cho-So grunted a ‘yes’, and no apology.
Humming, you explained, “It’s a normal reaction, Cho-So. It means you’re horny. Aroused. It’s your body getting ready to fuck me.”
“Fuck?”
“Uhuh. It’s you putting your cock inside me, inside my pussy,” you muttered right into his ear. Despite not knowing what these terms meant, his body still reacted to them; his cock kept growing bigger and bigger, till it was bobbing against his stomach. “Hold it, Cho. Touch it for me.”
He growled low. “You are not playing a game with me?”
Your lips curled. “Oh I am.” A handful of his hair bundled in your first, you tugged sharply. “And you’re going to do it anyway.”
He hissed, back arching and cock bouncing to a full hardness.
That was when you noticed it.
Multiple its.
Now that his cock had reached its limit — a ridiculous length that you knew you could never find on Earth, a girth that made your mouth water, a deep shade of purple darker than the skin on the rest of his body, and purple pre already beading at the slit — the blood still continued to pool down there, and it transformed his cock.
Bumps appeared along his length.
Ridges.
Ribbed.
Your pussy pulsed his name in morse code.
Cho-So murmured, “I can feel your heat through my back.” He paused and confessed, “I can smell it too.” Another pause, this time to flick his forked tongue out. He groaned. “And taste — is it meant to taste sweet? Or am I sensing the berries?”
“Yeah, yeah, shut up for a second,” you hurriedly said. You needed total focus on his cock. It was fucking brilliant. Oh to feel that inside of you, rubbing your walls and tickling your clit from inside.
Mm, there was no way you could wait any longer.
Quickly, you fixed up his hair, tying them back into neat pigtails.
Confused and slightly distracted by his own boner, he watched you kneel on the furs and shove a hand down your pants. You needed to be comfortable and to have a good view for this.
“Jerk yourself off, Cho-So.” He tilted his head, not quite understanding what you were asking of him. Impatient and already spreading your wetness around your clit, you said, “Hold your dick and move your hand up and down. Play around with the tightness you like, the speed. Fuck, just do something.”
His hand wrapped around his cock hesitantly. He did as you asked, moving it up and down and when he squeezed, he hissed, eyes shutting and head thrown back. Cho-So’s long neck looked so pretty, as did his contracting abs and balls. God, what amazing visual stimulation. It almost felt like he should be charging money.
You moaned, shoving fingers up your pussy and imagining that you’d need your whole fist in there to come close to how much he’d stretch you out with that monster between his legs.
“What are you doing?”
He sounded curious, voice gravelly with need.
Mischievously, you grinned and showed him your fingers. They glistened with your juices. Cho-So’s eyes dilated — you could see even over a metre away from him. He flicked his tongue out again, and gulped. What he tasted in the air had lilac pre dripping down his cockhead.
“Show me,” he commanded. “Show me how you are touching yourself.”
You ripped your clothes off, gasping at the coldness that enveloped you. This wasn’t the first time you’d been naked in front of him, but it sure as hell felt like it. You spread your thighs nice and wide, unashamed to show him your puffy folds and the fact that you were knuckle deep inside your cunt.
Cho-So’s staggered breath filled the cave.
He shifted to his knees, crawling like he wasn’t even aware he was moving. All while his cock was still in his hand, instinctively rubbed up and down. His thumb brushed the tip, spreading his cum around the head at the same time you circled your clit, rubbing faster and faster, matching each other’s pace.
Those hungry eyes stayed on your squelching cunt. He probably forgot there was a woman attached to it. Or maybe he just didn’t care.
Once more, his tongue flicked out. You took your fingers out and lifted it to his face, and without needing to ask, the long and thin appendage wrapped around the digits.
“Hah–so sweet,” he moaned out, eyes rolling back.
Calloused hands grabbed your wrist, keeping your hand in place as he licked and sucked and practically devoured your fingers.
You encircled his cock, gasping at the texture. It was bumpy. It should have freaked you out, should have weirded you out to the point of drying up, but instead, it only made you cream more on the furs.
The thing was so hot, so heavy. And so addictive to touch.
Picking up a drop of his cum, you tasted it. “Oh fuck, why do you taste like grapes? Are you kidding me?”
“I do not know what that is,” he replied, almost as if he didn’t realise he had spoken at all.
“Cho-So,” you said. Your voice snapped him out of his reverie. Fingers shoved down his throat, he slid them out, a little embarrassed. “I’m going to teach you what mating is now — is that okay?”
He let you guide him by his cock, pushing him down onto the furs.
Somewhat bewitched, he remained speechless. When you took his hands and encouraged him to cup your tits, he didn’t hesitate to grope and palm the heavy fats. He probably didn’t understand the role tits could play in sex, but no matter — you would teach him eventually.
For now, you were in a rush to feel an alien cock stretching you out.
It poked your hole, and unable to wait any longer, you slammed the entire length down in one go. You screamed at the same time he snarled, claws out and tearing the furs beneath.
SPLASH!
Your juices rushed out at once. His cum erupted inside you.
His cock throbbed at the same speed your clit did.
The two of you passed out.
When you awoke, he was still dead to the world. You couldn’t believe it. You came as soon as he put it in. And the orgasm was intense. None of your fake memory-orgasms could compare. It was delicious, and you wanted more.
Like a hunter on the prowl, you straddled his chest — hot, lavender cum was leaking out of your pulsing pussy and dripping onto his flushed skin — and took his cock in again.
Cho-So’s eyes shot open. His hands clutched you. “W-what are you doing?”
“Mating with you, obviously.”
He groaned, watching his cock disappear inside your cunt. Every ridge rubbed your gummy walls just right. You needed more. Needed everything he had to give.
You smacked his face, drawing his attention to you.
Smiling, you said, “We’re going all day and night, baby.”
His hips bucked up.
“Oh no.”
To-Ji
You ran back to his burrow.
He was sitting up, polishing one of his knives. His brow cocked when you stumbled down with frightened eyes. A sniff and he was jerking up. You stopped him with a shake of your head and hands held out.
“No, no, I’m okay. Just a little spooked.”
To-Ji threw aside his knife and beckoned you over. Catching your breath, you sat on the very edge of the furs. Voice rough with unsatisfied tension, he asked, “What happened?”
Your eyes darted at the opening, towards the sky. “Nothing…just Ken-To, um, well I don’t really know what to call it. He seemed mad at her — his ‘mate’, I mean. But I don’t think he’s going to hurt her…right?”
Making a noise of amusement, he finally leaned back against the wall and relaxed his whole body. “No, little one, he will not.”
Relieved, you leaned against the wall too, his feet almost touching your thigh.
If he was unworried, then you would be too.
You just hoped she’d really be okay.
Weapons laid by his side: smoother ivory, shinier wood, freshened twine. Clearly, he’d been keeping himself busy this morning, perhaps even during the night whilst you were out.
He didn’t bring it up, didn’t insist you carry on. To-Ji had let you sleep on him, tears and snot covering his chest, and when you woke up at night, it had been because your friend and her Kaisen brought food for the both of you.
There wasn’t a particular reason you left — the girl in blue had come by to ask if you were coming and you didn’t see a reason to say no. Although, if you had to be completely honest with yourself, maybe you were feeling embarrassed over the fact that you cried after giving him a partial blowjob.
“You should be resting, To-Ji,” you calmly scolded him. “The weapons can wait.”
Rolling his recovering shoulder, which no longer needed bandages but was still raw and sore, he gruffly replied, “Cannot rest. Always need to do something.”
“No,” you insisted, frowning. “You’ve done more than enough for this tribe. Everyone understands that you need rest and need to be fully recovered by the time the storm comes around.”
Despite your tough words, he smiled, flashing his fangs and stretching his scar. “I know I should listen but your angry voice is distracting.”
Your eyes landed on the steadily growing bulge beneath his loincloth. Heat rose to your cheeks and you tried to ignore the effects his words were having. Flustered, you picked up a dagger-like thing from his pile.
“Careful,” he said.
You inspected it. The handle was of wood but the perforated blade itself didn’t seem to be a tusk carved into a point, like most of the others. You wondered aloud, “What’s this made of?”
To-Ji answered, “A tooth of a larthe — a beast from the sea. Its teeth are strong, solid, good for hunting.”
“Did you get the tooth yourself?”
“Of course. No ordinary Kaisen can defeat a larthe. They are mighty creatures. They make for good meat too.” The thought of him readily eating a beast of an animal that most would stay clear from brought a smile to your face. He was pretty fearless.
“Is the sea far from here?”
“A couple days’ journey.” His foot nudged you. Your eyes met his. “I can take you once the storm passes.”
But how could you tell him that maybe you wouldn’t be here when the storm passed? That maybe you wouldn’t be here by nightfall?
The girls and you had decided you were all going to do what was right for yourselves and that no one should influence each other’s decision, nor judge them. What you didn’t tell them was that you somewhat hoped you would all make the same decision. Not necessarily because of a group majority, just…
You hoped you would all come to the same decision that you had.
But what did you want?
Living on Earth, on familiar terrain, would be smart, right?
Sure, you were building a good thing with To-Ji, but you didn’t want what you felt for him, your sense of obligation, and the so-called mate bond to get in the way of rational thinking. What was best for you, you asked yourself over and over again.
“Why haven’t you asked me to mate in preparation for the winter?”
The words had tumbled out of your mouth before you realised.
To-Ji was silent. He moved forward and took the dagger from you, throwing it in the pile like it’d been bothering him that you were holding it. Perhaps he was sensitive about other people handling his weapons.
Then, he leaned back on the wall and released a sigh. “Mating is not just the joining of bodies for pleasure; it is not just sex. Mating is the acceptance and creation of a permanent bond.”
“Yes, I figured as much,” you said.
“So you will understand its significance. You will understand it means something to us, to me.”
“Yes,” you repeated, growing somewhat exasperated. Why was he talking to you like you were an idiot?
It was clear as day that mating was some kind of rite of passage. That was why Ken-To had spoken so gravely about the matter, as if he regretted suggesting mating so loosely. “That’s why I’m asking why you haven’t asked me yet — I am your mate, aren’t I?”
He growled, “It is because you are my mate that I will not ask you to bare your body to me for mere warmth. I have been making preparations for the storm: extra thick clothes, sturdier boots, reinforcements for our home, blankets, herbs. I have made what I can to keep you warm, and what I could not make I bought at Alfheim. You will not die in the storm, I will not let you. And I will not let you bind yourself to me forever for any reason other than because you want me.”
Tension you didn’t know you carried melted away. Sighing, you crawled over to him, kicking your boots off. You straddled his hips. His hands fell on your thighs.
Your thumb brushed over the scar on his lips before you kissed it. Against his lips, you muttered, “I know what mating with you means. I know it means I will stay, that I am acknowledging the bond, promising myself to you.”
To-Ji sat still beneath you.
Kissing it again, you continued, “I’m just scared that what I feel isn’t real. But when I’m with you, when you look at me, touch me, hold me — I forget all about it. It’s confusing for me. ‘Soulmates’ is not a concept we live by. You’ll take care of me though, won’t you, To-Ji? You won’t regret being with me? Won’t wish you had a different mate? An actual Kaisen who’ll understand you better than I ever could?”
His mouth dove forward, consuming your lips in a heated kiss. It was aggressive, messy, and full of harboured desire finally unleashed.
Your back fell on the furs, and on his weak arm, he held himself up, keeping his weight off your body. Still, your arms wrapped around him, wanting to feel him crush you.
“Yes, it has been a pain being unable to communicate what I feel with you, having to bridge some gap I cannot fully understand,” he admitted, nose skimming the curve of your neck and groaning at your scent there. “But I never once thought to change you. Whatever difficulties we have, whatever fights and troubles, I will face it. I am not a coward, and you are not less than perfect for me. So get all the useless thoughts out of your gorgeous head, woman. You are here, you are mine, and if it is to be mated you want, then that is what I will give.”
An overwhelming feeling surged through you, burning you from the inside.
You wanted to warn him to be careful but couldn’t get the words out. He was already travelling down your body, stopping by the apex of your thighs and inhaling so deeply you thought he might rob himself of breath for good.
To-Ji snarled. “You do not know how hard it is to keep myself from eating this cunt out every day when you smell so fucking good.”
“W-what do I smell like?”
Fingers hooked on your waistband, he looked up at you with dark, green eyes and said, “Like mine.”
In one hard yank, your pants came off and a hot mouth covered your pussy not even a second later.
A long tongue lapped up the juices you didn’t know had begun pooling already. He groaned and doubled his intensity, lapping and licking and drinking like he had been thinking about this for so long.
There was no gentleness, no softness. Just pure, animalistic desire. And it felt so good despite how belligerent he was. You could only moan, grabbing onto his hair and writhing.
When he sucked on your swollen clit, your hip jerked up.
“Be still,” he ordered, throwing a heavy arm over your hips and effectively pinning you in place.
The pressure on your belly sent your eyes rolling back. A wave of euphoria came crashing down, and your body spasmed with its force.
To-Ji licked his lips, smirking. “I barely started — what a sensitive little cunt. It almost saddens me to have to split it apart with my cock.”
Oh but he wasn’t sad at all. In fact, judging by the flagpole he carried between his legs, loincloth torn off along the way, you would wager he was hoping for some pain to be involved.
With one large hand, he gathered your ankles and lifted them up. His hot cock slid between your thighs. The familiar green tip made you drool.
Your feet didn’t even reach his shoulders. To-Ji still towered over you. His entire body was massive and so muscular. It only occurred to you now that maybe you had a thing for how much bigger he was than you.
One hand holding your ankles tight, the other pushing your thigh tight around his cock, he leisurely thrusted. Oh god, he was fucking your thighs.
Overstimulated by the scratchy material of your top, you hastily threw it off and palmed your breasts.
His grip tightened. “Your teats…you have grown nipples because you bore children?”
Surprised by his sudden angry voice, you stammered, “N-no. We just have nipples naturally.”
Fingers experimentally pinched one. You gasped.
“They are sensitive,” he noted, then grinned, anger disappearing like it never existed to begin with. “How fun.”
To-Ji’s cock was rubbing against your pussy, coating itself in your wetness, and nudging your clit. You grew wetter and wetter, more and more hungry. Whining, you asked, “When are you putting it in?”
He licked a stripe up the pad of your foot, teasingly biting your big toe. “When you beg for it.”
“Don’t be an ass,” you snapped. “Fuck me or don’t — choose one.”
“Will you ever stop nagging me?” he asked, licking your foot again just to watch you wriggle.
Your eyes narrowed. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Good.”
Then he pushed it in.
Hands flying to clutch the furs beneath you, you shut your eyes tight, waiting for the sting to come. None came. Only a heavenly feeling of being filled up by something so big and so thick that all thoughts escaped you.
All you could feel was him, every ridge, every inch, and every drop of heat.
To-Ji grunted, fingers digging deep into the plush of your thigh, deep enough to leave imprints. “Tight -ngh- too fucking tight. I need you to relax for me. Fuck I might release early.”
You couldn’t relax, couldn’t loosen up. There was no way anyone could ever be loose enough to take him. So much of him was entering you at once. It felt like expanding to surround the sun.
“Fuck, To-Ji!”
Small pulses of orgasms struck you with every inch he shoved inside. You were speechless, jaw hanging and eyes feeling like they were perpetually stuck at the back of your head.
It should hurt; you were physically a virgin. And he was humongous.
But it didn’t.
Was it the mate bond that was shielding you from feeling pain? Or were you already so wet and so desperate for it that your body automatically adjusted?
Neither sounded likely nor plausible.
Eventually, however, he bottomed out, and you almost wished he hadn’t.
You gasped, looking down at where you two were connected. That thing you noticed yesterday, the thing you didn’t quite understand…it was cradling your clit with its short prongs. “Oh my god, To-Ji. What is that?”
To-Ji licked his scar, a habit it seemed. “A spur. It is for your pleasure.”
He rutted against you to prove his point. The thing was rubbing your clit, softly pinching it and stimulating the bundle of nerves. Juices readily leaked out of you, and as though it was calling out for more, your clit pulsed.
Legs thrown over his arms, he leaned forward and forced them to bend in an unnatural way, all so he could kiss you again. “You will love it.”
Then, you felt it.
Vibrations.
His ‘spur’ was vibrating against your clit.
You shrieked. “No! No, To-Ji -hngh!- it’s too much. Gonna cu–AHH!”
A tsunami of pleasure swept you under, drowning you. A terrifying spasm rendered you unable to control your body. You could only ride the full body orgasm to the very end.
Through it, he fucked you.
“Such a good little cunt,” he rasped. “Taking me so well.”
Ploughing his fat cock inside over and over again, grunting and groaning with the way your pleats hugged and squeezed him in pulses. To-Ji groped your tits and sucked on whatever part of your body he could reach.
It became hard to tell what time it was or how long it’d been.
Orgasm after orgasm attacked you as his spur ceaselessly vibrated against your clit and his cockhead prodded your g-spot, practically making out with your cervix, and all with not a hint of pain.
To-Ji, despite his size and strength, never hurt you. Not even for a second, not even accidentally. He slammed inside you just hard enough to make you feel him for days but not hard enough to bruise.
And when he finally came, grunting your name, he didn’t fall on you. He fell backwards, taking you with him.
You laid on his chest, thoroughly fucked out and tracing his scars through the layer of sweat without even realising it.
Searing cum drooled out of your cunt, and you didn’t even care to think about what that could mean for you. You could only think about the fact that your hearts beat as one, and that something inside you was glowing brighter and brighter.
It felt like bliss.
Like inner peace.
Home.
Hushed, you wondered, voice hoarse from all the screaming, “Are you sure you’d be okay with taking care of me? You don’t want to continue living as you have been, without all the drama I bring?”
Lazily, he gazed down at you, scarred lips twitching. He rubbed circles on your back, occasionally drifting down to grope your ass and slap it just to watch it jiggle over your shoulder.
“My life was shit before you,” To-Ji said. “I do not think I ever once knew happiness.”
He tilted your chin up. You met his eyes. Soft, gentle, incapable of violence. “Now, as you lie in my furs, on me, fresh with my scent, my seed, gazing up at me with those beautiful eyes — I do not ever want to go back to living life without you.”
Craning your neck, you kissed him.
“You won’t. I promise.”
Ken-To
Watching one of your friends go, taken away by her mate, you and the girl in green shared a sigh and continued weaving the baskets.
Ken-To was making rounds, ensuring each structure was reinforced and insulated properly with some moss they’d collected in piles and piles, and stocked in one of the sheds. He asked you to busy yourself before lunch, and told you that he would join you then.
You wanted to join him, no matter how boring his task was, but it was also nice to have the company of a friend. A break between mates was good; you just hoped he wouldn’t take too long.
“She’s finally gonna get the taste of alien sex she’s been asking for,” she dryly muttered.
“I just hope they come back on good terms. I don’t like their constant arguing.”
Giving you a look of amusement, she replied, “That is if she doesn’t kill the poor guy with too much sex.”
“Can someone actually die from too much sex?” you pondered aloud, getting distracted by the notion.
Green laughed. “I think if it was possible, she’d be the first to let us know.”
That made you smile.
“Do you think her finally getting along with Cho-So means she’ll stay?”
You weren’t supposed to ask questions like that; the agreement had been to decide on your own and not cast judgment, but you figured your question was innocent enough. It’d simply been on your mind, wondering if you were going to see any of your friends tonight.
She stared up at the sky, and you followed her gaze. You knew, without needing to ask, that she too imagined the Blobs would descend from the skies and take you in a beam of light, like cattle, anyway. They seemed to like doing things on their own terms.
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “Are you going to stay? I mean, have you even mentioned to Ken-To yet that we could all disappear any time at all today, that his mate could leave him for good? How does one even bring that —”
“What did you say?”
The two of you stiffened.
A low growl had shaken the ground beneath you. You felt the threat of it rattle your bones. Slowly, you turned around.
And there he was.
Ken-To.
Horns.
Your mate.
Standing with his nose flaring, eyes bloodshot, and hands clenching into fists.
“Ken…” you began, standing, “how much did you hear?”
He rolled his shoulders, muscles bulging with restraint. You’d never seen him look so mad. Even when you were taken by the Kushu tribe, he was more or less still refined. Now, he looked nothing short of furious.
Aware that she’d said something he wasn’t supposed to hear, she stumbled back, raising her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were behind us.”
Ken-To paid her no mind.
His eyes pinned you to where you stood. Snarling, he asked, “You are leaving me?”
“No! No, that’s not what we were saying. It was just a thought.”
“You thought about leaving me,” he repeated, lip curling to reveal sharp teeth ready to sink into flesh. Suddenly, any belief about him being the most sophisticated and evolved of the Kaisens disappeared.
Green tried to grab your arm, a survival instinct to run creeping up on her, but the flexing of his claws stopped her.
Still keeping his entire focus on you — inspecting every inch of your face, every twitch, every inhale, every dart of your eyes — he told her, “Go to your mate. If you stay, if you touch her, I cannot guarantee your safety.”
She hesitated for a second, jolting towards you. You nodded, telling her it was okay, and then she left.
She ran and didn’t turn back.
You were left standing there, completely alone and at the mercy of a man who had heard something he really shouldn’t have.
Ken-To’s eyes fluttered shut, fighting some invisible force telling him to do something he didn’t want to, you could tell. You didn’t know what to do. He didn’t seem like someone who should be comforted with a hug right now.
When his eyes opened, you hardly recognised the man you saw.
He could only bring himself to say one word:
“Run.”
Your body moved on its own, processing the command before your mind could.
Legs pumping, chest heaving, you sprinted in no particular direction. You had no idea where to go, who to turn to. Ken-To wasn’t in his right mind. There was no telling what he’d do to you, to anyone who got in the way.
Branches whipped past your arms as you tore through the trees, breath ripping in and out of your lungs in sharp, panicked pulls. The ground was uneven, slick with damp leaves and roots that threatened to send you sprawling, but instinct kept you upright. You ducked under the ropes that had been tied around trees, frightening barriers that reminded you you were trapped.
You didn’t dare look back.
Behind you, there was a sound.
Something slower. Heavier. Deliberate.
Your pulse roared in your ears, drowning out everything else. Ken-To’s voice echoed in your head the way it had sounded low and resolute when he told you to run. He wouldn’t hurt you, would he? Wouldn’t tie you up and keep you hostage so you’d never leave?
Did you hate the idea?
Veering left, then right, you ducked under a low branch, lungs burning as cold air bit at your throat. It was just like when you were running to the ship, using the map; your body was no longer your own, governed instead by something else. Only this time, you weren’t running to something, you were running from someone.
You told yourself you were scared, and you were, but there was something else curling beneath it. An awareness. An unsettling sense of being seen even when you couldn’t see him.
A branch snapped.
You stumbled, catching yourself against a tree trunk, palms scraping bark. For a split second, you considered hiding, pressing yourself flat and silent, willing him to pass you by.
Then you felt it.
An undeniable presence.
The forest went quiet in that way it only did when something apex moved through it. Bowing to its might. Even it knew to stay very still. You straightened slowly, every nerve ending lit up, skin buzzing like it had been struck by static.
“You have slowed,” Ken-To’s voice carried from somewhere behind you, calm and terrifyingly controlled.
Your breath shuddered.
“I told you to run.”
You were still running, but it was different now. Shorter strides. Sharper turns. Your body knew it was no longer about escape, not really. It was about how long you could last.
You didn’t hear him again until suddenly he was there — close enough that you felt warmth at your back, a shadow eclipsing your own. A hand snapped around your wrist, firm and unyielding, pulling you back against a solid chest.
A gasp escaped your lips, heart hammering, every muscle locking at once.
Ken-To leaned down, his breath brushing your ear. “Too slow,” he murmured.
His grip didn’t hurt, but it didn’t loosen either. And as your pulse slowly began to sync with the steady beat beneath his palm, you realised with a dizzy mix of fear and thrill that this had never been about catching you.
It had been about seeing how you would listen.
He pinned you to a tree, nose grazing your hairline, and a deep groan vibrating through him. Your face was pressed to his chest, and you could do nothing but inhale his scent, drown in it, and melt in his heat. A hard thing poked your belly, and you didn’t have to look down to know what it was.
“You listen when I tell you to run, so I know you are a good girl who does as she is told,” he rasped, claws tearing your shirt open. It fell down in tatters at your feet. He ran those very same claws down your chest, not pushing, just showing you what he could do if he wanted to. “Why is it then that you think you can leave me?”
“Ken-To,” you breathed out, chest arching towards him. Your hardened nipples scraped his skin. “I wasn’t gonna, I swear.”
Carefully, he kneeled down, eyes on you the entire time. You were bare for him for the very first time. His lips skimmed your belly, leaving a kiss where there was that pudge. His fingers brushed your nipples, and he muttered, “They are right; you do have the teats of a mother. But you are not, are you? You have not carried anyone’s child but mine, yes?”
You nodded.
“Good.” Ken-To took a long inhale, eyes rolling back. “Your cunt smells even more delicious this close. You will let me taste it.”
You nodded again though it wasn’t a question.
He hooked your thigh over his shoulder, licking a stripe through your folds with no hesitation. “Mm, I have never tasted anything sweeter.”
Like an animal let loose, he ravaged your cunt — sucking on your clit, shoving his tongue deep inside your pussy to gulp down your juices, and nibbling on your puffy folds. It was as if he was doing something he’d been waiting to do the entire time.
“I will make sure you spend your days here, in our home, with your legs spread and your pussy speared on my tongue,” he growled, tongue flicking your clit, as though angered by the thing. “Until I am satisfied, and not a moment sooner.”
You writhed on the tree, scared that someone would see you, but who could?
The two of you were deep in the jungle, and there was no telling how near the camp was, how near anyone was. Still, you were out in the open, vulnerable, and no one would be able to hear you scream.
“Ngh, Ken! You’re being too rough,” you whined, bark scratching your back.
He didn’t reply to that.
Left to your own devices, you had no choice but to cling to his horns for stability.
Wrong move.
With a roar, you found yourself spun around, ass jutted out.
“What did I say?” he hissed.
SLAP!
You jolted, yelping. He slapped your ass. Ken-To had spanked you. Heat blossomed on your skin, and he rubbed it with his loincloth-covered cock. You moaned.
“I told you not to touch me there unless you want to be taken where you stand,” he reminded you. Ken-To watched your ass wriggle against him, sandwiching the print of his cock with your cheeks. “Ah, I see. That was exactly what you wanted, was it not? You want to be fucked right here. Not in the comforts of our home, in the softness of our furs, but here, out in the open, with dirt covering you, like a whore.”
Head shaking, you denied it. “No, Ken-To. I’m sorry.”
He pulled on your hair, forcing your neck to arch out for him. Teeth scraped the skin, a long, wet tongue following the marks it left behind. “You are not. You cannot lie to me — I smell your desire. It fills up the gaps between the trees. Rob me of my sight and my hearing, and I would still find you by your sweet scent.”
Shuffling occurs behind you. Heat lands on your ass.
It was unadulterated, pure heat. With ridges that rubbed just right against you. Was that his cock? Had he freed it from his loincloth?
Tensing, you waited to see what he would do with it.
“You want to be taken here,” he snarled right in your ear. “You want to be fucked like my whore. Well, I live to please.”
Ken-To shoved his cock inside you in one go, hips slamming. You screamed into the bark. Not with pain, not in fright, but with the intensity of your orgasm. It crashed into you like a meteor, engulfing you in flames, exploding deep in your belly.
The pulsing of your inner walls had him panting.
“Oh, sweet soul,” he said. “Did you cum already? When I have barely just begun? Perhaps you are not as well behaved as I thought. How disappointing.”
He thrusted inside you in long and deep strokes, fat cockhead prodding your g-spot every time. He was big, impossibly so. You didn’t need to look, to inspect, to know. Ken-To filled you up, stretching you out inhumanly. There should have been no way you could take him as easily as you did, and yet, you were.
It must have been the mate bond.
You were made for him, as he was made for you.
That had you gushing on his cock.
“Do you feel how deep I am?” he asked, hand snaking around to press on your stomach. He was bulging through, and when he pressed down, you felt him even more. You squirmed, robbed of breath and space. “We are connected, as we were destined to be.”
“Yes, yes!”
Ken-To ploughed you, cock throbbing with every thrust. His voice warped, less angry and more devastated. “I laid my heart out to you, bared my very soul, promised all that I have, and yet you were plotting to leave me?”
“No, Ken,” you mewled. “I was never going to -hah faster, please! yess oh god- l-leave you, I promise! I love you. I’ll never -ngh- leave.”
Despite his anger, the betrayal that seeped into his voice and possessive hands, he fucked you as you wanted, faster and faster when you’d writhe, and deeper and harder when you’d fuck back into him.
“Love?” he repeated, like it was a dirty word. You didn’t recognise the gravelly voice. It sounded so beastly, so barbaric, and unlike the gentlemanly Ken-To you knew. It was almost as if he was crazed, overtaken by a mania for which there’d be no cure. “I worship you. I adore you. I lay myself at your mercy — love pales in comparison to how I feel for you. But yes, love me. Love me with all that you have, with all that you can, love me so deeply you will never leave me, even in death.”
Teeth sank into your neck.
You howled, orgasm splashing onto the ground, the tree, down your thighs.
No pain erupted.
Only pleasure.
Total euphoria.
Heaven.
.
.
.
“Did I hurt you?”
You basked in the afterglow, unable to stop smiling, try as you might.
Laying on his body, on the jungle floor, he cradled you from the hard, itchy ground. You were face to face with him, his arms wrapped around you.
Ken-To nosed at the fresh bite mark on your neck. He made a tsk sound. “Please forgive me, my love. I should have warned you — my people, my kind, we carry venom in our teeth. Lethal to anyone but our mate. To our mated ones, it feels only like an aphrodisiac. It is why we bite during mating, to claim, to pleasure.”
A giggle flitters in the air. “It’s alright, Ken. I don’t mind. It doesn’t even hurt at all. It just feels sensitive–ngh! d-don’t lick it!”
“Blood leaks out; I must clean your wound,” he explained, but you knew he was merely using that as an excuse.
You were both naked on the jungle floor, yet neither of you seemed to care at all. You’d never felt more complete, more full, more happy. Maybe it was the effects of mating, maybe it was the bite and the non-lethal venom coursing through your veins. Whatever it was, you didn’t care. Everything felt right in the world.
He held your cheek in one hand, thumb following the curvature of your nose and lips. “Did I frighten you?” You shook your head, kissing his palm. “My people are one of the more territorial Kaisens, though I try to keep my wrath in control. I would never hurt you however. Never.”
“I know, Ken-To,” you said, still smiling.
“Good.”
His eyes flickered upwards, to the glimpses of the sky through the leaves. “You are not leaving, are you? For all my threats, I do not think I could stop you if that is what would make you happiest.”
In spite of his words, his hands tightened around your body.
You sat up, sitting on his chest, and gripped the base of his horns. Ken-To hissed, hips bucking up behind him. He grabbed your wrists, but you didn’t let him pull you off. It was a fast way of getting his attention, you learnt.
“I’m not going anywhere, Ken,” you vowed. “We were just talking. I’m happy here, with you. This is my home now.”
Gaze softening, his hands wandered up your arms, then down your sides, resting on your hips, though not for long. He ushered you up and up, until you were hovering right above his mouth. His hot breath fanned your sensitive folds.
“Welcome home.”
Su-Ku-Na
“Stop trying to eat me out.”
You were sitting under the same tree he had left you at all those days ago, trying to relax under the shade and think deeply about the decisions you had to make today, but a pest was pawing at your thighs, trying to separate them so he could shove his face between them.
Su-Ku-Na growled, “I want a taste.”
“I don’t care what you want,” you snapped back, locking your ankles for extra protection against his many hands. “You should have thought about this before you humiliated me in front of the girls!”
One such hand covered your lips, angry at the words that were coming out of them, and two others yanked your legs apart successfully. You groaned in frustration.
He glared at you. “Mine.”
Legs lifted high up, you found yourself upside down as he tore off your pants and pulled your bare pussy up to his mouth. Su-Ku-Na kept glaring down at you as he thrusted his tongue straight inside your cunt, like he was proving a point. You rolled your eyes, in both annoyance and desire.
There was no one around.
For now.
And his mouth did feel really good.
You ground up, chasing some friction, caving in so quickly. “Suck my clit, Ku-Na.” Obediently, he sluurrrped on the thing, and you moaned. “Mmm, that’s good. Alright, you can eat me out till I cum, but you better make sure no one sees us. If we get caught again, I’m never letting you mate with me, do you understand?”
Su-Ku-Na grunted. One of his free hands crept inside your falling shirt, groping your tits like he had done in the river. He tweaked the nipple, flicking it the same way he would flick your clit.
Would it stop at a little harmless head?
Were you actually going to mate with him?
Well, when he was tongueing you so good, why would you say no?
There, of course, was the glaring problem of him having two cocks. That wasn’t just something you should jump into without thinking. And knowing how impulsive Su-Ku-na was, he’d just shove both of them in without thinking. Proceed with caution, you warned yourself.
You groaned, your orgasm jolting through you like a bolt of electricity. “Mmm, sooooo good.”
He didn’t stop. In fact, he seemed happy that there was more pussy juice trickling out. This wasn’t about your pleasure, that much was obvious.
Shoving his face away, you whined, “Enough, Su-Ku-Na, it’s too much. It hurts”
His hands dropped you immediately. Then, he nuzzled your neck, murmuring, “My cocks ache. Help.”
Su-Ku-Na engulfed your lips with his, kissing you, uncaring of the fact that your wetness was spreading on your skin. You tasted yourself on his tongue. He hugged you to him, all four arms like a cage, ensuring you couldn’t leave.
A hardness poked your bare pussy through his loincloth.
He had every intention of taking you right there.
And, with the tingles thrumming beneath your skin and the delirious pull begging to get even closer to him, you almost weren’t going to say no.
“No,” you whispered. “Not here. I don’t want anyone to see us.”
Huffing, he stood up, and threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of rice. Your bare ass was free for the world to see, and your head kept flipping around, embarrassed and hoping no one would see you. “Wait, where are you taking me?”
“Home.”
“Home? You mean, in the middle of the field?”
He didn’t answer.
Left with little choice, you hung over his shoulder, his hand drumming on your ass cheek as he strolled over in some direction or the other. If he attempted fucked you right at the very centre of camp, for all to see, you would rip off one of his dicks.
But Su-Ku-Na marched you both inside the jungle, weaving under the threads one of the girls informed you were set up to warn if someone was trespassing. Where the hell was he taking you if not the fire pit?
“Are we going very far?” you asked, playing with the red beads on his loincloth.
He still didn’t answer. Instead, he focused his attention on playing with your body. His fingers parted your pussy lips, absentmindedly playing with the wetness there.
You wriggled in his hold. “Hey! Stop that.”
“Mine,” was all he growled, two fingers pushing inside your hole and leaving just as soon. You didn’t know what he did after, but the sudden sucking sounds you heard gave enough of an idea.
Not too far from camp, he placed you down. In front of you was a massive tree. Not anywhere as big as those in Alfheim but definitely bigger than usual — and things seemed to come in family-sizes in EdenX. A curtain of vines with glittering beads, the same as the ones he wore, draped down the tree from branches above. They chimed when you ran your fingers lightly through them.
Confused, you wondered, “What is this?”
Huffing impatiently, he gruffed, “Home,” like it was obvious and he couldn’t believe how stupid you were.
You looked at him blankly. “It’s a tree, Su-Ku-Na.”
“Home,” he insisted.
“God, I can’t talk to you, you’re just so stubborn and anno–AH!”
You stumbled inside, breezing past the vines. He pushed you. No, he shoved you. So caught up in your shock and insult, you waited till he stepped in, smirking to himself, before slapping his chest.
“Don’t just shove me around, you big idiot! I’m your goddamn mate; treat me with some respect, you barbaric monster.”
To your indignation, he held you back with a hand to your head, treating you like some child. Su-Ku-Na whirled you around with ease, pinning your arms to your side. He said, “Mate. Home.”
Then, you finally understood.
He lived inside the tree.
There was a big window, giving light to the place. It revealed a mini world with moss and tiny trees. Little critters and flies buzzed around, unaware of a larger world beyond theirs.
A terrarium.
Almost as if hypnotised, you walked over and touched the bubble that separated that space from this one. “What is this?” you asked. There was a rainbow shimmer when it bounced back from your touch. It almost felt like a jellyfish, but without the sting. How was this possible?
Su-Ku-Na shrugged and laid down on furs atop a wide plank of wood suspended in the air by vines strung up on inner branches. It swung with his sudden movement. He had made a hammock. Or a daybed. Whatever it was called.
There was even a hollow in the wall of the tree, where a stack of wood lay. A fireplace?
“What…the…fuck?”
One of his hands was rubbing his bulge through his loincloth, as he folded another behind his head. He was the epitome of relaxed. Whereas you were bewildered, and beyond lost and confused.
Eye twitching, you fixed him a stare with the intensity of a crazy woman. “Su-Ku-Na,” you began, slowly like you needed to focus your energy on not ripping him apart limb by limb, “why were we sleeping out in the cold, in the open, when you have a whole fucking house inside a tree?”
His abode was the coolest thing you’d ever seen. It was surprisingly clean for someone like him. There were no skulls of conquered animals, no bones he’d been chewing on, or trash littering the place. Just moss as carpet, and the subtle backdrop of a jungle come to life for his white noise.
He reached for you, grasping your hip. You resisted his tug. He yanked, and now you were standing close enough for him to carry onto his bed. It swung and you clung to him in fear. When it showed no sign of snapping, more than equipped to carry the combination of your weight, you untensed.
Su-Ku-Na guided your hands to his loincloth, jutting his hip up to signal that you should do the rest.
“Hey, don’t distract me,” you weakly complained, successfully distracted with freeing him from the cloth. And even more so when two cocks sprung out.
A hand rubbed your bare leg. He answered, “Stars. Mate home.”
Your brows furrowed. “Stars?”
Both of your hands gripped his cocks, tugging as though they were stress toys. You didn’t think you were even registering that you were jerking off, far too caught up in deciphering his riddle. Communicating with him barely got easier despite the translator bracelet on his wrist.
Growing breathless, he grunted when your thumb swiped the slit of one of his tips. “Mate sad. Wanted to make mate happy.”
Your gaze softened. “You thought I was homesick? You wanted me to see my home planet in the stars at night?”
He grunted again. It was clear Su-Ku-Na couldn’t care less for the conversation; he just wanted you to soothe the ache in his cocks. But that was the sweetest thing you’d ever heard.
The Kaisen had sacrificed a comfortable bed and home to sleep with you outside, shielding you from the scratchy grass using his body, all so you wouldn’t be sad. It was such a simple thought, but the act carried significance you couldn’t ever hope to replicate yourself.
“Su-Ku-Na, you little baby,” you cooed, trying not to cry.
Carefully, you adjusted yourself over his hips, aiming one of his cocks to your entrance, which was still wet — perhaps even more so after his confession. You were ready. Definitely ready. Though you were mulling it over, you didn’t think you ever actually seriously considered leaving. There was no family to return to, no life that would miss you, but Su-Ku-Na would, and that was more than enough.
His cockhead pushed through the tight ring of muscles, and you both groaned at the feeling.
“We are mating?” he asked, sounding like a child who needed assurance and confirmation.
You nodded, trying to take as much of him as you could. “Yes, ngh yes, we’re mating.”
There was no pain, only a fullness that had you reeling and unable to think. Sex didn’t feel like this. Yet, there it was — an unbelievable feeling that made you drool.
Su-Ku-Na wasn’t faring any better.
His abs contracted painfully, the veins on his arms popped with the self-control he was maximising so he wouldn’t dig his nails into your skin. He’d never looked more beautiful.
“Fuck!”
Scalding cum exploded inside you with no warning. It painted your walls, leaving behind a tingling sensation as it dripped down and out. He rutted up into you, riding his orgasm to its end. He’d been barely halfway inside. You shuddered, moaning; did his orgasm trigger yours? Or were you feeling his?
It was impossible to know where he began and where you ended.
Something poked your other hole. Your eyes shot open. “Wait! Su-Ku-Na, I can’t take both.”
But he wasn’t listening.
Not to you, at least; he was listening to his instincts, following the biological voice inside him telling the Kaisen to fill you up completely. He growled, “Must feel mate. Must feel you.”
He crept his second cock inside your ass; it didn’t seem to matter to him what hole was what. Su-Ku-Na just knew it was there, and it was empty, and he wanted to feel you.
Hands spread your cheeks apart. Cool air was tickling the sensitive skin there.
You panted, feeling insanely full. Why was there no pain? Why wasn’t your body creaking and pushing him out in complaint?
“Ngh, Su-Ku-Na!”
“So tight,” he hissed. “Mate too tight.”
It shouldn’t have even been impossible for you to take him with no prep there, and yet, your walls were stretching to take all of him. You must have had at least ten mini orgasms in the time it took for him to bottom out.
His hands touched you everywhere — squeezing your tits, pinching your nipples, rubbing your clit, scratching your back, pulling your hips down, guiding it to grind down on his pelvis, shoving fingers down your throat, bringing your hand up to his lips so he could suckle on them.
“Too much,” you breathed out, vision spotting. “It’s too much.”
“Not enough,” he countered, thrusting from beneath, chasing something he could never reach.
You slumped over on his chest, dead to the world.
.
.
.
SQUELCH! SQUELCH!
That was the first thing you noticed when you came to: obscene noises that sent a shiver running up your spine. When your eyes opened, a big wall of red blocked your vision.
Su-Ku-Na was grunting over you, the furs soaked in your sweat beneath you. He lifted your hips up, fucking you like you were a pocket pussy.
His glare was directed at where you were still connected. You languidly followed his eyes. There was a ring of pinkish cream at his base, dripping down to his other cock. A thick sheen covered his cocks.
Something poked upwards in your belly with every thrust. It was punching a sensitive spot inside you. You mewled.
His gaze darted up at you.
“Mate awake,” he said. His eyes narrowed in on you, betrayal swirling with lust and desire. “Mate sleep on me.”
Your hand reached up for him, cradling his cheek, which he offered. You were still half-asleep, a little loopy. A giggle pierced through your low moans. “You’re not very -hngh- g-gentlemanly, are you? You couldn’t –fuuuuck s-slow down, no speed up, ngh fuck just keep going– c-couldn’t wait, could you?”
One of his hands fell on your belly, applying enough pressure to have you gushing on his cock. Your orgasms crashed in so suddenly. You moaned, eyes rolling back. That must have been a trick he learned whilst you were passed out.
God, how long had it been?
Your shirt was gone. Bruises marked your skin. An earthy red-bean and cherry taste coated your tongue. Stickiness drying on patches of skin, and even on your cheek. The terrarium was dark — glowing bugs were making rounds. They bore witness to your lewd acts.
“Feels too good,” he snarled, like he was accusing you of making him weak. “Cunt too tight. Ass too greedy.”
Ankles locking behind him, you tugged him deeper, rocking him back and forth at the pace you liked. It was addictive, being treated like you were good for nothing but fucking. You wanted to make him feel good, to watch him suck up the drool he was leaking from groaning so much, to feel him gripping your body so tight in punishment.
“More, Su-Ku-Na,” you pleaded, writhing beneath him as your nails left marks down his chest. “Fuck me more.”
He rammed his cocks in faster.
You moaned with joy. “Yes! Yes! Just like that!”
Everything was sopping wet, so sloppy. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care about how dirty and filthy you two had gotten. Not when you’d never felt better. You were practically dripping everywhere, tasting him all over you.
Su-Ku-Na came with a snarl, filling you up with even more of his wine-coloured cum. Like your gummy walls could absorb it, you felt drunker and drunker on his cock.
Ripping his cocks out of you, cum splashed everywhere, as if a geyser had been unplugged. He barely gave you enough time to shriek with the strength of yet another orgasm because he flipped over.
You hung upside down, coming face to face with both of his cocks.
They dripped with your combined juices, thoroughly flushed and still spurting cum.
His tongue speared your cunt, gluttonous slurrrrpps! reverberating around the tree hollow. Su-Ku-Na ate you out like a madman, like a man starved, a man deprived of nourishment his entire life. Your clit pulsed his name in morse code.
Meanwhile, you were kitten licking his cock, stroking the other with your hand.
Then, your stomach growled.
He pretended not to hear it.
You gripped his balls. He grunted, cocks throbbing.
“I need to eat, Su-Ku-Na. And don’t argue with me.”
Grumbling, he dropped you on the bed. You bounced.
Sore pussy cupped in your hands, you released a sigh. You’d been gone for the better part of the day. You mumbled, “The girls better not say a word to me.”
The girls…
Were any of them still here? Had they uttered the words and left for Earth?
You jumped to your feet, grimacing at the soreness in your limbs. Su-Ku-Na swept you up and licked whatever was caking your face and neck.
“We need to go,” you told him.
You needed to know if you would wake up tomorrow, with the world changing into something unrecognisable and with no means of leaving ever again, alone.
Please be here, you thought.
Even with Su-Ku-Na, you couldn’t live here without them.
Please.
Five women wandered out into the clearing, sore, exhausted, and stalked closely by their mates.
In part, that was exaggeration, and in most, it was not.
Over the span of a week, or two — they had lost track of time — they were plucked from their beds, made to materialise in a sterile laboratory, and poked and prodded by these blobby-looking figures. They staged a rebellion, fought tooth and nail to take control of the vehicle, all to crash-land on what they would soon realise was an alien planet.
Certain details of that summary weren’t true.
Certain details of that summary were mockingly false.
But they no longer cared.
For when they stepped out under the moon’s light, gravitating towards the fire that raged in the pit and the meat roasting above it, they saw each other, and that was more than enough.
Relief settled in their souls.
The next day would bring its own set of troubles — they knew that much simply from the unusual nip of the nightly wind, which promised a tumultuous storm indeed — and they decided, fuck it.
Today, they had cut ties with their captors.
They didn’t want their promise of a fresh start, of a life on Earth. What they wanted now was grasping them tightly, handfeeding them food they’d caught themselves, and vowing to continue to protect them.
SAVE #01 - NIGHT ONE, 8:42 PM | last chapter | current save file
can you survive the weekend?
synopsis: when you sprain your ankle on a solo hike in the frigid wilderness of a snowy mountainside, you weren't totally sure you'd even make it through the night. well, until a group of strangers stumble onto you on their way to their own cabin getaway and offer to let you stay in a spare room. but when one of them turns up missing the next morning, you'll have to decide where the danger really lies - in the woods outside? Or with them?
pairing: various jjk!men x f!reader (multiple endings!)
content: mdni, fluff and angst, horror (think until dawn/dark pictures anthology esque au)!!!, mystery, injury, anxiety, hurt/comfort, tension, mentions of past breakups, gojo and yuki are having a great time lmfao, dread, drinking, geto is stressed, some suggestive content/fantasizing, mentions of making out, crushes
"So, um, you guys aren't up here, to have, like, an orgy, right?"
Yuki snorted, and you almost choked on the last sip of your own wine, swallowing every last drop as the warmth settled surprisingly heavy in your chest. The pretty blonde was already trying to pour you another one, but it was a different palm that snuck around to press against the small of your back, all three of you crowded around the kitchen island as music from a different room drifted through the open door.
"When you say it like that, it almost sounds like you're interested in one," Gojo teased, dramatically hm-ing as he leaned in closer.
It had only taken him two seconds after you reluctantly accepted his offer for a single drink to slip his way into your personal space. And he refused to leave it since.
"That's not a no," you pointed out, glancing over at the the glowing green time on the microwave, the minutes somehow slipping by before you could hang onto them. The alcohol had loosened you up, made the anxiety you'd been clinging to melt into just relaxed cautiousness.
More out-of-habit than thinking there was something genuinely suspicious about them, reflexively reminding yourself that they were still basically strangers. And still, you were letting your guard down, giggling and sharing drinks like you were in a bar instead of a snowed-in cabin on a remote mountaintop.
"Just say the word, sweetheart, and I'll go ask Suguru to join," Gojo smirked, one of his fingers dropping dangerously low as you laughed and shook your head, pushing the drink on the counter in front of you.
"When you say it like that," you repeated his words, tilting your head to the side as you tried to find the strength in yourself to shrug him off. To convince yourself that you were not going to fuck some guy you just met a couple hours ago. "It just sounds like you want to have sex with him."
"Ten bucks says him and Geto have already done it," Yuki cut in to mock him too, her easy laughter enough for you to stop chewing on the inside of your cheek and crack a genuine smile.
It was nice. Fun.
You almost felt free again, untethered to any of your real life responsibilities, or rather, anyone.
"Do threesomes count?" Gojo asked back, his fingers splaying out and pressing down as they slipped even closer to your ass, your nerves tingling and thighs tensing at the thought of both of them in bed.
You'd like to blame the filthy fantasy your brain immediately conjured up of being sandwiched between the two beefy guys giving you a warm place to sleep, wondering if what you'd seen of their personalities would translate to the bedroom.
Would Geto still be cold?
Or would he warm up with you on his lap? Murmur honeyed things in your ear and grace you with those soft-looking lips of his?
You had a feeling Gojo would be the one doing the work though - who would be eagerly dragging his tongue across your body like he was starving for a taste of something sweeter than his wine.
Which didn't even seem to be that appealing to him considering he'd barely taken more than three sips of his own.
"How do you guys know each other?" You cleared your throat to ask, glancing down at your refilled wine and reminding yourself that getting wasted right now was a bad idea.
"School," Gojo quickly answered, still grinning.
"And you're all still friends?" You quizzed, a little surprised as he hummed and nodded happily.
"We don't get to see each other that much anymore with work and life and blah blah blah," he continued, gesturing with his free hand. "But that's why we always try to meet up here."
"What brings you up here?" Yuki chirped before you could make a comment, her eyes hazy as they focused on you, words slightly slurred as she brought her own cup to her lips to chug.
"Um, it's kinda stupid," you muttered, a little more self-conscious than you should be when a certain white-haired someone was by your side.
"Now you have to tell us," Gojo goaded.
"It's nothing crazy, I, um, just got out of a relationship, and this trip was supposed to be something we did together," you explained, staring down at the counter top and dragging your fingertip over the raised edge of a crack across it. "I had already bought all the gear and taken off work, so uh, I just decided to go ahead and do it."
Like a lonely idiot.
"Aw," Yuki cooed with sympathy you couldn't quite discern was real or not.
"Why'd you guys break up?" Gojo prodded, not hiding the fact that he digging for details. The hand on your back subtly pressed down harder, your heart stuttering a beat as you tried to shrug like it was really just nothing.
"He had his priorities," you awkwardly mumbled. "I just wasn't one of them."
Choso meant well.
Always had.
He had told you he loved you like a hundred times even when you were breaking things off. But you'd come to the conclusion it just couldn't work out.
Not when you knew he'd put his brothers before you - and he'd just end up resenting you if he asked him to choose.
"What a moron," Gojo snickered, and you hated that part of you found it incredibly attractive. That when you looked over at his perfect face and his charming stare and the silky hair that framed his gorgeous eyes that you noticed all of that to start with.
Yuki nudged your now full again glass closer to you, nodding along like she agreed with Gojo.
"Forget about that loser," she said, and you wanted to think that maybe what you thought was bad luck was really the opposite. Maybe fortune had felt sorry for you and dropped you in the lap of new friends.
Gojo grabbed your glass for you, holding it out until you hesitantly took it, your breath catching in your throat when he winked at you, the warm kitchen lights glimmering in his blue stare as he picked up his own glass.
"Here's to a great weekend getting to know each other," he toasted, the three of you doing the whole glasses clinking in the air, wine nearly spilling out to stain the counter. "And to making new memories you won't wanna forget."
You hoped he was right.
You sorta needed him to be.
Bringing the glass back to your lips, about to allow yourself another small sip, shifting on your feet only for it send a sharp stab of pain up your ankle again, cringing as you barely stopped yourself from getting choked up on the thick liquid again. Your fingers wrapped tighter around the stem of the wine glass to stop from dropping it, a dizzying wave threatening to drag you under before you braced yourself against the counter for support.
Shoko had taken a brief look at your ankle after her bath, hardly twenty minutes after Gojo poured your first drink, her dark brown hair still damp and hanging down when she walked into the kitchen and announced that Geto had filled her in, not even blinking or betraying any surprise at your presence.
Acting almost bored when she gestured for you to follow her back to the living room so she could take a look, a messy first aid kit left out on the coffee table only for her to sigh at her examination of your swollen joint. Muttering under her breath that there wasn't really much she could do here, dryly suggesting you ice it and prop it up after passing you a painkiller she admitted was probably expired.
And okay, you'd done it at first, for like, twenty minutes, but Satoru was like an impatient puppy sitting next to you, barely two inches away with his leg bouncing on the couch until he convinced you to come with him to finish the drink you'd forgotten about.
You had almost declined.
Excused yourself back to your room to get some rest, even if you'd have to ask him or Geto where exactly there was.
But you were sorta glad you didn't.
Grateful that you'd given him a chance, given the day an opportunity to be anything other than awful by taking him up on staying. Plus, any lingering reluctance had been dampened by Yuki's presence, comforted by the fact a couple other girls were here and thought they were decent enough to hang around.
And weren't you having a good time now?
Relaxing into a handsome man? Drinking some vintage wine in a warm cabin instead of freezing your ass off alone in your tent?
"I think I, uh, might need to sit down," you started, setting your glass down, and Gojo was already moving to support your weight, his firm body pressing against yours before you blinked.
Your eyes felt heavier, the fatigue you'd been fighting morphing into an exhaustion that was a lot harder to ignore.
But the party followed you back to the living room, the smell of smoke lingering in the air, the dull glow of leftover embers still burning from a cigarette in the ashtray.
"Sho," Gojo called out, glancing up the long wooden staircase with an exaggerated scoff. "No smoking in the cabin."
She didn't reply back.
But Geto walked through in a few seconds later, shrugging off a thick jacket and kicking off his snow-covered boots, squinting at the sight of Gojo fluffing up pillows and helping you onto the comfiest couch.
"Where were you?" Yuki asked him, still smiling and perky as she crumpled into an armchair and threw her feet up on the coffee table.
"Someone had to carry in the stuff on the snow-mobile," he wryly retorted, cutting a glare back at his best friend. "I pulled everything into the garage."
"Thanks, man," Gojo beamed, his face flushed pink from the minimal amount of alcohol he'd consumed. "Care to join us?"
Geto begrudgingly walked over, looking between the three of you with a little sigh before taking the armchair opposite Yuki.
He didn't say anything, but Gojo took it as agreement anyway.
"I'll get more wine," he hummed.
Yuki pulled her phone out of her pocket, huffing at whatever was on it despite the fact you doubted she even had any kind of service up here. "I'm gonna go plug this up."
She stumbled up to her feet, her long legs unsteady as she started towards the stairs, your lips pressed together in a thin line as you held in a protest not to leave you alone with the one person who did seem unhappy you were here.
"I'm sorry," you awkwardly apologized to Geto. "I wasn't trying to like, crash your vacation or anything."
"It's fine," he muttered back. "The problem is Satoru, not you."
"Oh," you murmured, unable to stop yourself from stealing another look at him.
He wasn't watching you.
His head was reclined back, resting against the armchair, long hair draped across it and the sharp outline of his jaw standing out as his Adam's apple bobbed. Long, muscled limbs stretched out as he sighed.
"Is your ankle okay?" He eventually asked after a long pause, your chest constricting down and compressing your heart and lungs at how smooth he managed to sound.
Geto didn't even have to try.
Just had this awful affect of making your stomach flutter and heart skip just by being around him.
"Shoko said to try not to put any pressure on it," you softly spoke up. "But all the painkillers here are apparently expired."
His brow twitched, like maybe he was tempted to ask why you hadn't brought any, but he held back, so at least you didn't have to tell him you just hadn't been nearly as prepared as you thought you were.
"There might be some supplies still at the ski lodge," he murmured, slyly suggesting breaking and entering, clearly confident that there wasn't anyone around to notice. "It's not that far away on the snow-mobile."
Before you could respond, Gojo was walking back, struggling to carry four red solo cups now, the wine glasses ditched.
He had to awkwardly had to sort of squat to set them down, delegating them out with more of those practically blinding smiles of his, smile lines etched by his mouth as he handed you one.
"Drink up," he hummed.
"She probably shouldn't if she's injured," Geto lightly scolded him, his dark eyes settling on you as something...strange shifted inside you. A feeling you didn't quite have the right word for, squirming in the seat as Gojo tossed himself next to you, slinging an arm around your shoulders.
"It's just a little self-medicating," Gojo argued. "She's in pain."
You stared down at the red swirling around in your drink, weighing both their reasons as you tried to decide for yourself.
This was still moderation, wasn't it? Your thoughts were still coherent, even if your chest felt all warm and fuzzy and your body was all clumsy. Palms clammy as you found yourself tilting towards a man your brain was screaming was a bad idea.
And still, you took another sip.
𖥔 ݁ ˖
"Morning, sweetheart."
You made a mistake.
A big, huge, ginormous mistake.
But you couldn't exactly take it back now.
You stared at the hickey-stained skin of Gojo's pale chest as you sat up, blinking and searching your brain for last night's missing memories. You didn't think you'd been wasted, not even a hint of a hangover throbbing around in your head, but clearly the one-and-a-half glasses you'd indulged in was still too much.
Greedy hands. A warm mouth.
Making out in between thick blankets, your fingers tracing over the thick ridges and hard divots of sculpted muscles, tangling in soft, silky hair, gasping for air as the wine simmered and stunted all your sensibility.
Judging by the fact both your pants were still on, you guessed you didn't actually have sex, but clearly, you'd gotten close.
"We didn't, um, you know-" You cleared your sore throat, sitting up stiff and straight as you tried to take stock of your own body. Nothing was more sore than normal. Your ankle still hurt, aching as you moved under the heavy comforter, but it didn't feel like you'd been fucked.
Satoru was lazily smiling up at you, arms folded behind his head and propped up all pretty on a soft pillow, half-lidded eyes tracing over your form.
"We just kissed," he happily hummed before stifling a yawn. "You seemed to like it last night. Don't tell me you already regret it?"
You hadn't actually decided if you did or not when your awkward morning-after conversation was interrupted.
Someone abruptly pounded on the door, a man's voice calling out that you had to pause and pull yourself together in order to recognize as Geto's.
"Satoru, you in here?" He half-shouted, a hint of thick exasperation bleeding through.
Gojo threw his legs off the bed, not bothering to put a shirt on as he padded over, leaving you to scramble up to your feet after him, wincing at how you reflexively put more weight on the wrong foot before you corrected your stance.
But then he was swinging open the door, leaning against the frame and revealing a surprisingly disheveled looking Geto.
"Have you seen Shoko?" He asked, his sharp eyes sweeping across the room, narrowing only when he saw you, a funny flicker of disappointment flashing across his features.
What, had he thought she was in here too? That you guys really were having a threesome or something?
"Nah, we just woke up," Gojo answered, yawning again and covering his mouth.
"She's not in her room," Geto bluntly said.
"She's probably just out smoking," he replied, starting to sound a little annoyed at his interruption, his hand reaching back for the door knob like he was waiting to shut it. "Where's Yuki?"
"Hungover in her room. And I checked outside," Geto shot back, his voice strained and tense. "Twice."
"Okay, well, are you sure you checked every room? Even like, the basement and shit?"
Geto gritted his teeth, jaw clenched as he tried to resist the urge to choke out his best friend. "Yes, I'm sure."
"Maybe she walked down to the lift to see if Nanami got here," Gojo offered a semi-reasonable explanation. "Or went out to get some cell service."
"She would've left a note," Geto argued, and you were more inclined to agree with him. Just because you were dumb enough to go on your own and get stuck without a way to contact anyone, it didn't mean she was.
The woman you met last night seemed like someone who made better decisions than you in general.
"What are you trying to suggest we do then?" Gojo groaned, as if it was just an inconvenience than a real concern. You could tell he didn't really believe she was missing.
You didn't know what to believe.
"I'm going to take the snow-mobile up to the lodge. There should still be satellite messengers there, or a radio transmitter," his best calmly said, even and collected. Like he'd already assessed the situation before he came to the door. But then his stare slid over to you, his lips pressing together before he spoke again. "More first aid supplies too."
"Fine," Gojo huffed. "I guess I'll go walk down to the lift then. But you're making dinner when you come back and see she's totally fine."
You glanced between the two of them, uncomfortable tension crackling in the air as you rubbed the back of your neck.
And at the same time, they both turned to look at you almost expectantly. They couldn't actually think-
"You coming, sweetheart?" Gojo chirped, crossing his thick arms across his chest.
Well, honestly, walking down a trail with your sprained ankle sounded like hell even if it was with him, but then again, the idea of staying here where Shoko may or may not have gone missing was equally unappealing.
But then Geto pushed the door open more with a palm pressed flat on the wood, brows knitted together in contemplation as he slowly spoke up, "You're welcome to go with me if you want."
That was the problem.
You had no idea what you wanted.
a/n: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always <3 you decide what reader does next :3 choose wisely bc each action have consequences! if certain character's affection levels are too low, they might not be inclined to save reader in certain situations
want to see how your choices changed character's affection levels? check here -> CHARACTER MENU
