megumi being kind of anxious about people touching his hands, his weapons of defense and his earliest talisman against loneliness, and this doesn't exclude his alpha. he likes having his hands free so initially he pulls away from holding hands on dates. He doesn't like his hands restrained, it makes him panic if he's right off a mission if you try and pin his wrists even a little. he doesn't even necessarily like to hold his alpha tightly because if he gets distracted and can't let go fast enough, they both could be dead.
but you kiss his palms once, and his heart seizes. something about this does not feel dangerous. so some day, he lets you do it again. press your lips to his fingertips, run your nose along his wrists. each time it makes goosebumps on his arms, butterflies in his stomach. you let him lay his hand on top of yours, a shadow falling in the gaps between your fingers and it's almost like holding hands. he shudders openly when you lick something from the web of his fingers, feels himself between your teeth. you could close down, bloody his knuckle, but it's like feeding his arm into the mouth of his hounds, only better because he can never order you not to bite, he can only trust you not to and have that trust rewarded.
you run your tongue over his heart-line and his entire body sings, taste salt and sugar from his knuckles, drink from the delta leading from his wrist. his hands were always consecrated for violence but now you worship them, and he lets you with just enough fear to remind him that his love always also has his trust.
Day 6 (yes that's right. no. no one missed anything. I'm behind. shh). And I'm cheating a bit because it's also Megumi's birthday
This one is a little new for me, but I hope how i envision Megumi doing this makes some kind of sense. Apparently dollification is a bit niche? nothing is niche to an ao3 veteran though so news to me
cw: dollification, voluntary dissociation, megumi wears a skirt because gender is a construct and he/him using people are allowed to wear what they want, lingerie. this is arousing for him but he ultimately refuses sex for the duration of the piece
I'm really sorry if the pacing is a bit off. Because I have to write at least a little bit each day to even halfway keep up with the event, there's not much time for beta-reading most of the stuff /throws it out and runs away
Megumi blinked, aware for the first time in what felt like hours, but still in a pleasant haze. There was no need to make decisions, no need to feel responsible for anything.
The feeling of your hands on him was more acute, gentle soap rubbed into his skin, thumbs running up the muscles in his neck, nails scratching at the roots of his hair.
His fingers twitched, the ring on his left hand pressing pleasantly against his adjacent fingers. You must have slipped it on him soon after the scene started. You tended to do that if you weren't planning on letting him leave soon.
He would have sighed, but his job right now was to lie still and let you do whatever you wanted to him. The thought of it made him twitch inside, thankfully where you couldn't see.
Still, you noticed enough to slip your hand to his throat and squeeze a little, reminding him to keep breathing, slow and even.
You notice he's wet when you're toweling him off. "I suppose this is at times function of my darling," you murmur to tease him a bit, otherwise, thankfully, ignoring it.
He reminds himself that he does not need to be relieved or think much of anything really, just stand as you've positioned him, let his eyes fall shut when he's more or less prone, resist the urge to tremble when you brush over the bondmark on his shoulder.
He belongs to you very well and you take good care of him, sitting him on a new towel in front of the vanity, rubbing oil up every one of his limbs, shoulder to wrist, ankle to hip, chest and back, patting fragrant cream into his face, blow-drying his hair.
He sits very still as you start to prime his face. Memories of the first time doing this drift across the scrolling scenery of his mind. His intention to question, to shift as soft brushes pass over the incredibly fine planes of his face. Lifting light over his brow, his cheeks, fitting a subtle rouge, for your beautiful doll is not garish or saucy, over the high bone, restoring shadow under the curve of his jaw and lower lip.
You flick a little dab of colored mascera to the tip of one long lash. He sits very still as your breath fans over his face while you decide, tilting his head this way and that with barely the touch of a finger, but never too far to break the illusion.
"Very good."
He fights this hitch in his chest. Being disallowed from moving seems to make it twice as hard not to do so, but he's now had several years of practice.
You flick color sparingly over a few lashes, giving the barest suggestion of blue to make the green of his eyes deepen. He bats his eyelashes slowly when you're done with them, showing off the effect but letting his eyes stay unfocused and dreamy as he largely wanders in the realm of sensation and memories which are allowed to pass painlessly through him
You take him in, brushing powder here and there over his neck, down to his chest before you are satisfied.
He focuses on one sense to the other, the shush of cosmetics and click of their casing as you leave things to set, him obediently watching the far wall rather than your movement out of his periphery. He can scent the odd calm that blankets his own vaguely pervasive arousal, the warm thrum under his skin. Although, as you trail hands over his arms and step back one more time to make sure his makeup is perfect, the complete nakedness feels very comfortable. Existing with you where he is just a body, his person-ness floating somewhere safe and enclosed above his head, or in the shadows behind his eyes, where you take in all of him and adore every single centimeter. It's very comfortable.
You dress him in something that makes him glad for the foundation hiding the blush as cream lace presses around his chest and hips, straps holding it to his shape around his chest and waist.
A soft, loose turtleneck gets tucked into a fawn corset fastened snug around his waist, bracing him straight but not compressing. It hides his breathing more, which gives him room to take deeper breaths as you contemplate a long skirt or a pair of trousers he knows drape over his behind in way that often has you grabbing him if he bends over too long.
There is a delicious wickedness in you as you croon, "Dolly dearest, you look so lovely in everything. I'm having a hard time choosing. Would you tell me which would best suit you on a winter's day?"
He eyes one and then the other as you really ask him whether he would like to be a beautiful silhouette, admired and later appreciated, or accessible to your every whim.
When his slow-blinking gaze lingers a little too long on the long skirt, you lay aside the trousers and oblige him. The corset really is helping keep his breathing in check as he imagines your hands everywhere.
When he is dressed, you set up a place for him to sit on a soft rug with pillows to lean back against, a short table to rest his hands, cushions to keep his bones from pressing against anything hard, and pose him. You turn the mirror so he can see himself.
Skin flawlessly finished, eyes lined just a little bit with a flash of almost invisible color, lips glossed to a sheen, clothes pleated and arranged. The thigh-high stockings under the skirt make his leg where it peaks out look sculpted, toes blurred to just the pointed shape of his foot.
You sit behind him, wrap your arms around him, looking at him in the mirror, inhale the scent of product and the mellow hush of all his emotions gone quiet when he's like this. "Dolly dearest," you purr the words that signal you're letting him reply. "It's nearly lunchtime and I'm getting hungry. Shall we take our tea?"
"Shouldn't it be still be teatime?" he grumbles, hoarse from his silence, but he's allotted few sentences when you play this game. He doesn't feel much like thinking today. The weight of your arms lets him exist without suppression, the cinched spots of his layers of clothing remind him you're with him.
"Right you are." You're laughing at him as he gets propped up at the table for you to set it. The three tiers of the tea stand are actually quite impressive, ordered from a cafe nearby that does such things.
He's not all that eager to move, as this requires some planning, but he obediently sips at his teacup, which you keep full enough he doesn't have to tip it far, and eats sandwiches and tarts and scones with such tiny bites you can hardly tell he is moving his lips all, which is a part of this he came up with soon after it became apparent he would want this more often.
He largely gives up with the soup, which brings with it the benefit of you moving close enough to feed him tiny sips, dabbing at the corners of his mouth to keep it from spilling on his clothes.
He pretends not to notice as your movements shift the skirt higher and higher, exposing the garters holding his stockings in place. All of it you pat back down with a slightly smirky look once the meal is done and he's signaled you that he has had enough to eat.
You snap a few pictures on the polaroid, and end up changing his clothes a few times for it, tilting him this way and that to get a different feel from each thing - a silky shirt tucked into a pair of shorts, a red velvet off-the-shoulder with those trousers in coffee, a cream and green wide-legged combination that mirrors a belted wrap-top, and then back to the original, minus the corset as you finally lay him on the bed, read to put your Dolly Dearest away and bring your Megumi back, bit by bit as he's ready to return to you.
You've reapplied his lipgloss. Smearing that veneer away as you brush your lips to his unresisting mouth starts to pull that sense of self back from the perfectly safe little box it's been in, makes it start to fill his body again as he no longer feels the need to be hidden and kept in a small, protected space.
He inhales deeper as he starts to need air and as you touch the ring on his finger, the one that shows other people when he wears it out that he belongs to you.
As you slide the skirt up and unclip his garters, pulling down his stockings, the air feels colder and he shivers, feels you smile as you tug the covers into a half-wall around the two of you. A decent nester, for an alpha, he things not for the first time, parting his lips to draw your scent across his palate, roasted sweet with the pleasure of being with him, with the heat of your hunger for him.
That makes him kiss you back, pressing into it as you lift his hips to undo the buttons behind his hip and slide the skirt off, away to the end of the bed.
He inhales sharply as your nails scratch the lace - which explained that choice, as though he didn't know where this could go.
There's more lazy kissing, which he profoundly enjoys, each warm press and soft sound drawing him back into himself as though with marionette strings. His hands grip back, squeezing rather than lying limply as his fingers find the spaces in yours, his stomach jumps as you nose at the tender place behind his ear, kissing down the side of his neck. Your hand traces curiously over the lace on his chest, mapping the feel of it against his skin and containing the perked swell of his breast.
"Do you like this one?"
You give him so much time to answer, to let the words filter like syrup to where he can think on them. He'll answer, later. When things speed back up to their normal pace.
It feels nice though, it does. The texture is exceedingly pleasant as he feels himself get a bit wetter than just background arousal as you start to kiss his neck.
"You don't mind the powder?" he murmurs.
"You ready to have it off?"
When he nods, you slip away for a moment to lay the skirt across the back of a chair and to wet a few cotton pads with micellar water. It feels good to have the powder off, lighter. It makes him more eager to get back to kissing, to your hand sliding back up his sweater to press your nail around his nipple.
He's a little more hesitant when your hands trail lower, teasing around his hole, closing his knees and whining softly in a way he wouldn't if he was all back with you. Your hands retreat and he breathes easier. He doesn't want to do anything about it right now, maybe later, when he can fully appreciate the set you have him in and feel sexy about it.
The low simmer in his belly just feels good the way it is, ebbing and flowing as your hands slip around his waist, pulling him close, making your body the new container for his being. "Love you, Megumi," you whisper as you trade another set of slow kisses, the remnants of the gloss sticky between you.
Yes, that's the important bit, he thinks, as his mind starts to settle, personhood slipping back into the cracks of him. He tucks his nose briefly into the sweater, picking up the spice of himself and enjoying the texture.
He knows that you love him very much, that you take care of him when he just needs to not be quite so responsible or present, when he needs to be just a body that is still a little bit Megumi, and entirely part of your omega, your mate.
"Ready to come back to me, Dolly Dearest?" you murmur, the question you ask at the end of every seen, this time as you feel him inhabit his body again, his arms wrapping around your waist in return.
"Yes, alpha." His voice is still a little soft, but his scent is sweet and tangy, no longer the muted mellow. "I'm back."
Megumi get so shy and ashamed when you eat him out. He likes it too much so he'll basically never ask for it unless he's really out of it during a heat, and even then it's so shy and there's tears and he's so scared you're going to make fun of him or just say no.
And he gets so messy during it too, there's slick all over your chin and he wants to move so badly because it's a little overstimulating so he's often scrunched up against a pile of pillows by the end, where you've chased him across the nest, or just shivering the whole time while you're keeping him there for you, and he's so sensitive after you have your mouth on him too, his skin feels tingly and he's too tired but feels weirdly energized.
He really gets so much out of it, it makes him a total grump if you try to beg him to let you taste him outside of heat because he knows you know what it does to him
If anyone had told me before that Megumi was capable of putting on the ingenue act, i'd tell them I love it even though I don't see him him doing it in canon. I am so so happy to be proven wrong. Mostly because this kiiind of goes with thoughts I've been playing with for the past few months about Megumi having more behavioral issues coming out of a childhood of Trauma than we see.
In They Live au's, I've always felt that Tsumiki is secretly quite an angry girl who grows into a rather angry woman. She loves her brother, but they're not related, Toji dumped Megumi on her and her mother and her mother dumped him on her, then she was still expected to keep playing the part of the grateful, graceful daughter even when new (sort of) adults took over.
I've always felt that Tsumiki throwing the box of milk at Megumi's head is quite telling of how close to the edge she is. She's frustrated by his inability to internalize more than he already is, and by the expectation that she be the one who is beautiful and polite and somehow well-adjusted after being old enough to remember her mother abandoning her (and probably then Megumi vanishing with their guardian from time to time and clearly keeping secrets about it, although not very well)
Apart from fighting at school, we don't see Megumi being very external about what I'd guess are some pretty profound abandonment issues. What we do see is the gap moe of his being rather distant from people while internally latching onto them hard, and talking down about himself all the time or thinking he simply can't do anything at the least he can do is summon The General if he thinks he's going to die anyway, and his anxious spiral seems to shoot straight down to "i guess i'll die" faster than any other character.
So this little bit of voice acting is so special to me. The up-speak when trying to appear guileless in front of strangers cannot possibly be something he's done for the first time. That pitching upwards and sweetening is just so 😍. Like where did you learn THAT from
Can't you imagine Megumi accidentally slipping into that with his alpha the first time, maybe when he's having a bad day, or something scary happened on a mission and he feels he has to placate them or lie for some reason? or even to do that to get what he wants when he's not sure they'll give it to him.
It does initiate an unfortunate catch 22 though where they do love that tone, especially when they ask him to beg for something, but it's also like... oh, yes my lover uses this when he's also in a certain headspace and we don't want him going there right now! (it makes sticking to making megumi beg more difficult)
And even when Satoru says the most out-of-pocket things around Megumi, he doesn't change his tone at all! Megumi is comfortable with Satoru! At least comfortable enough to be the grumpy and express the somewhat negative side of himself, or say he's not sure he can do something, without feeling like Satoru isn't going to take a real concern seriously.
Also it's fascinating to see that he is so much more likely to go and try an idea an authority figure he trusts gave him, even when he would likely be far better off giving his own idea of things a try.
I also just have this feeling that when Megumi gets truly uncomfortable but does not necessarily want to leave the situation, or if he feels trapped, he gets really catty, like defensive, and kind of mean. Not as mean as Tsumiki can get, but will tacitly accuse his alpha of not caring for him. He absolutely preemptively pushes people away because he's worried they'll leave, and he also has this unintentional tendency to guilt-trip the other person. He doesn't even know he's doing it, it's just a kind of body language and closing off that either makes the other person give up on scolding him or run after him to comfort him and tell him they're not really mad.
Megumi is so primed for a corruption kink. The clan using every opportunity to meddle both before and after he presented (even though Gojo tries to keep him away from it) making him both avoidant and hyperaware of anything remotely sexual, this throughline in his life of losing bodily autonomy (being sold to the Zenin then bought by the Gojo with the stipulation he work as a sorcerer, being body-snatched by a demon)...
It's all there just below the surface to the point when even once he's with his alpha, who he likes and trusts and who treats him well, part of him is expecting his role to be laying there and taking it, probably having a few pups whether he wants to or not because 1. the statistics of birth control failure are better than most gacha games and 2. it's sort of anticipated with his technique
There's less pressure once all the elders are dead, and after Sukuna Megumi kind of stops trying to make up for being alive by sacrificing himself. But finding a new outlook and direction all just takes the pressure off. Enough for him to forget about it for a while.
Until his alpha makes him come for the first time on the first time. It's not like he hadn't done a little bit of self-exploration, but part of him also never thought for some reason that he'd be able to get off with a partner, like in any way beyond kind of being forced into it by being knotted. but no, with his alpha, it's so tender and overwhelming, it makes him hungry for more and he's low key sooo ashamed of it, but also... he has an alpha, that's what sex is for right? he should be allowed to get off. And his alpha is so attentive about making sure he does? so surely it can't be bad if they just... want to give him a second one, even if it's a little itchy and over-sensitive and makes him feel kind of slutty, but they cuddle him afterwards and make sure he doesn't feel gross and actually he quietly realizes (w/ the help of some internet forums) it's okay to be embarrassed and a little degraded in a safe space!
It can't be bad if they want to lick his nipples until he's literally begging them to knot him. Or maybe if they just grab his hands and he doesn't move except to grab their hands back. And it seems like no one is going to beat him with their cane bc they actually can't tell he's being impure during a lunch date about how he's still sore but wants so badly to be full again. And his alpha thinks he's so sweet and makes such nice noises when he's begging them to help him not spill everything they gave him everywhere. Maybe he can... just... turn his brain off for a second and not care that he's not pure anymore. He was born to live with shadows after all.
some of you already know i like to create backstories to build out the alpha characters for our omegas and i've started to wonder if Todo knows his underclassman has a thing with Megumi. It's funny if he does. Does he think megumi's alpha deserves to have their assets as openly appreciated as their character? Truly how progressive of him! And it's also funny if he doesn't because I think he wouldn't mind this underclassman of his too much, he likes people with passion or honesty even if it isn't about sorcery, but megumi thinking he likes someone with morals and personality and considering his future alpha and todo punching him in the face becomes such an overreaction XD
