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MY LOVE, MY ALIBI | CALEB | XIA YIZHOU (LNDS)
♡ tags ; psuedocest / adoptive incest, afab + fem!reader, minor age-gap (3 years), mentions / non graphic depictions of child abuse (from readers days in the orphanage), childhood crushing, mutual pining, developing relationship, size difference, some religious imagery, loss of virginity, petnames (baby, princess, pipsquak), use of meimei once and gege a few times but very sparing, oral (f!recieving), nipple play, marking, light masochism from reader, mouth-spitting, fingering, bare-backing, 18+
♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)
♡ a/n ; hey. this is an incest fic for adoptive siblings. if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. block me if you need to. please spare me lecture.
also - i have reader be carried by caleb a couple of times but dude has a bionic arm so he's strong as shit to me. the size difference tag is mostly about his dick. aside from the carrying there is no phyiscal indicators for reader
important to the fic but i play in simplified cn. please go listen to the simplified cn voice actor before you read this. for my sanity. most of my characterization is based on various cn translations from the kind cn fanbase. special thank you to mao @/yinyuedijun and this yt channel.
♡ synopsis ; for as long as you can remember, the sight of caleb's back is whats made you feel safest. it's no surprise that every man that comes after him never quite measures up.
extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar

PART ONE: ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

At seven, you knock out one of your teeth roughhousing with one of the orphanage boys.
The good news? You’re winning. You’re at the age where size matters more than gender but the boy you’re fighting is both bigger and older than you.
Even so, you manage to pull off shoving him back.
You don’t know his name, only his face— buzzed head and red gums, the pristine picture of anger. You roll around with him in the small stretch of yard behind the orphanage - white tanktop stained with grass, all knobby knees and short limbs as you fight and fight and fight with every ounce of your strength.
You are seven with something to prove and a lot already lost. Your pride refuses to let you lose further. You recieve a hit of adrenaline when you launch the top of your head into the older boys chin and hear his teeth clack from how hard it lands. He collapses in a pile, spits curses he learned from the grown-ups that come in and out as he lays there.
He nearly jumps you when you’re both down. Your head is throbbing where his chin connected and you can tell if he decides to fight you again, your chances of winning have slimmed significantly.
You see it in his eyes. In his face. He’s so angry. Always is. You knew it was a bad idea to provoke him to begin with.
He nearly, nearly jumps you and almost knocks you out completely.
So you decide it might be better to prepare for it. You fold up. Put your arms up high and brace for impact when a shadow - long, endless, casts over your head. Eyes half open, a familiar pair of beat-up sneakers stand in front of you in the grass. You hear a familiar voice. It’s colder than you’re used to.
“Bullying a little kid is lame,” Caleb says, sharp. It makes you shrink further even though it’s not directed at you. “Quit fighting or I’ll get one of the grown-ups.”
You can’t see what's in front of you. You only hear a shock of gasps around you—another confrontation that quickly settles into silence before Caleb turns around.
His face is soft as he bends down to be eye level. Kind, boyish, gentle - he opens up his arms. He’s not happy about something. You can tell because his smile is a little dimmer than normal. You desperately hope it isn’t because of you.
Even knowing Caleb is going to scold you a bit, you find yourself welling up in tears from relief even over fear. You wail as you wrap your arms around his neck and Caleb hoists you up and carries you on his hip like you’re still a baby.
He’s silent as he carries you into the house.
“You shouldn’t get into fights,” He says, soothing. You sniffle as he walks you inside. His shirt smells like summer, hands fisted in it. Holding on for dear life. Call for me next time.”
Caleb sits you on the mattress, in the room all the older kids share. Your feet don’t touch the ground as he kneels in front of you and rifles around under his bed. He has bandages and alcohol, cotton swabs and gauze.
His eyes are kind as he assesses your wounds. Pours alcohol onto a cotton pad and frowns each time you sniffle and sob from the pain of getting them cleaned. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t fight anyone, seriously.”
“Shut up,” You say first. You hang your head low, instant regret. Your hands close again, blunt nails digging into your palms. Your lower lip trembles. Caleb quickly puts a hand on the top of your head when he notices your distress. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Just depend on me, alright?” He grins with the same front tooth missing. Like a mirror image of you, you think. “I’ll always help you.”
__
At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday.
You’re the age Caleb was when you met and now you’ve both left the orphanage and lived away from it for a few years. You’ve spent nearly three years with a woman you call Grandma and the world feels a lot kinder with her in your life. She takes good care of you. Gives you a warm bed to sleep in, and good food to eat. Doesn’t get angry when you break cups or get up in the middle of the night to go pee.
You live in a house with only three people and you even get to have your own room—one you don’t have to share, not even with Caleb. It’s nice to sleep where there’s no one else, even if most nights you crawl into Caleb’s bed anyway and sleep next to him because it's more comfortable.
Grandma is nice to you. Sometimes, she looks like she’s somewhere far away but it never lasts for long. You’re thankful to her for taking you in.
You have a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and Caleb is right next to you. He’s your brother now, so you can be together forever. And none of the adults from the orphanage are here to punish him anymore when he tries to protect you.
You’re ten and the world seems to be trying its best not to hurt you any further. Somehow, this only makes you feel more uneasy.
You’re happy. It scares you. You often wonder when someone will punish you for it. If someone will be blamed for allowing it. It makes you feel helpless when you think about it too long.
But you have Caleb. He makes it easier. You can cling onto his shirt when it gets too hard. And he’s older now, enough to really feel grown up.
A night, when you clutch the fabric until it stretches wide, trembling after you’re plagued by bad dreams - having nightmares of rusted rain, Caleb is there.
No matter how deeply asleep, he always wakes up to hold you.
( You wait for him to tell you that you’re too big to be getting scared over nightmares, but the day still hasn’t come. You hope it never does. You think you’d be so sad you would never stop crying. )
You’re ten, and the world seems kinder - but you know better by now. You try to take precautionary measures against letting it take everything from you again.
And you start small. With yourself, and your birthday.
You’ve only ever celebrated a few birthdays. In the orphanage they’d celebrate a lot at once, so it never felt very special. You can’t really remember the ones you had before then, don’t remember much from then at all. Since you’ve been adopted, Grandma has celebrated your birthday and made it special. She and Caleb cook your favorite meal together and you sit around and cut-cake afterwards.
They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.
Your birthdays now don’t compare to the ones you had then.
Nothing bad is happening but still. You like celebrating your birthday. But, can you feel okay about getting to celebrate a birthday at all? When you thought for sure your life might end before then?
Before your eleventh birthday, you announce to your family that you don’t want to do anything special this year. When they probe you with questions about why not, you refuse to give up any answers.
Caleb is thirteen and heartbroken when he hears you say this. Asks questions even as you turn your nose up and refuse to answer. You get into a fight about it, one of the very first of your entire relationship.
It’s that same night you begin to sleep in your own room.
In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you find your house to be more quiet than usual. Caleb is busy with something but you blame yourself for the distance between you. He always comes back seeming tired. Even though he still pats your head and smiles at you the same way, you notice when he seems a little less there at the dinner time.
When your birthday finally comes, your grandma still decides to celebrate it in a small way. She makes your favorite food and gets you a cake and candles. Hugs you when you cry about it, too. The only thing they skip is the decoration.
(You’re brave though, when next year rolls around and tell them you miss it. It makes Caleb happy enough to hug you tight.)
The warmth that fills your heart seeing your name in iced letters is too big for your body. You wonder if this is what having a family was like.
At night time, after dinner and before you cut the cake - you open your presents. There’s two for your eleventh birthday. One from grandma and one from Caleb. Usually, they sign their gift to you together but this year they’re separate.
At first, your heart sinks, but you try not to think about it. Grandma gets you a bike that matches Caleb’s so the two of you can ride together. You’re happy to have it but Caleb insists you can just keep riding on the back of his if you don’t want to learn.
You open Caleb’s gift second. It’s wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on it so you undo it carefully. Inside of it is a plain looking box.
“Open it,”
There’s a pair of earrings and a necklace when you do. It’s not cheap plastic like all the other jewelry you’ve ever had in your life. Little apples covered in gemstones, and a little gold necklace with a pendant and a locket. Your eyes go wide, fingers trembling a little as you touch it.
You look for Caleb’s face unthinkingly. Kind and warm, eyes crinkled and shoulders slack in relief when he sees your happy reaction. His hand is warm as it rests on your head, rubbing gently.
“It took a while but I’ve been helping our neighbors for money so I could buy it for you,” Caleb says, looking down at you with an easy grin. “The day you were born is important for me, so don’t say that you won’t celebrate it from now on. Okay?”
When tears well up in your eyes, you barely have to say a word before Caleb brings you into his waist. You cry to him the same way you always do - with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt like you’re terrified of where you’d end up if you let go.
Even when you ruin his shirt with salty tears, Caleb never voices a word of complaint. His steady heartbeat and warm hands that make you feel like he’s already done it all before, stay exactly where you expect them.
Your dependable, kind older brother.
__
At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight.
It takes a tremendous amount of effort to make it happen.
Grandma was easy to convince, but it took you fourteen whole days to convince your brother that you could handle going on a school field trip without having your hand held the entire time.
(You can still hear the amused, taunting lilt in his voice from when you first mentioned it. Sure you’ll be okay pipsqueak? My bed won’t be there for you to take over if you get scared, you know?)
Ugh. He can be so strict. An you swear he was even more stubborn about it than usual.
You had to use every tactic in the book to get him to say yes. Kissing up to him, acting extra wistful, doing your chores and being super well-behaved. After strategically buttering him up for two weeks prior to you just asking, you also made sure to ask when he had one of his friends over. He’s strict regardless of who's around, but having another person in your corner is good for morale.
(This method is effective for the record. Just as Caleb goes to turn you down, his friend throws an eraser at him and clicks his teeth.
“There’s a limit to your siscon behavior. Just let her go.”
You sneak said friend a candy the next time he comes over as thanks.)
After a lot of persistent begging, Caleb relents and allows Grandma to sign your permission slip. It’s an overnight trip sure—but it’s heavily supervised and rooms are separated by gender anyhow. You really don’t know what he was so worried about.
So far, the trip has been really fun. You went to a butterfly garden conservatory as a part of your science project and one landed on your nose. Your friend even managed to get a good picture. In the afternoon, you did a bit of sightseeing and got to buy some street food.
When evening rolled around, you and all your friends holed up in the same hotel room sleeping together on one big floor. You stayed up a few hours later than you should’ve—gossiping and discussing the newest chapter of a very popular romance webnovel. Most of them are out by the time the clock hits midnight.
And now, you’re the last one awake at 1am.
Unfortunately, no matter how long you try to sleep—it is hard to sleep away from home, knowing Caleb isn’t right down the hall. No matter how much the thought makes you frown.
You’ve outgrown the habit of crawling into his bed every night. Still, you think you rest easier knowing that he’s there. You’d never admit it but subconsciously, it comforts you just knowing he is. The few times you get nightmares of the Chronorift these days, your nightmares are especially persistent. You don’t crawl into his bed like you did when you were a little kid as often as you used to. Even when you want it, it’s just a little embarrassing.
Regardless though, he’ll stay up with you until it passes, and until you go back to to sleep. It’s the only thing that helps it go down easier some nights. That he’d be there no matter what happened.
By the time the clock strikes one-thirty, you get the feeling you just won’t be able to sleep unless you at least call him.
So, after carefully sneaking your phone out of your bag - you leave your hotel room to wander the halls and end up in the lobby in your PJs.
You realize your incidental act of rebellion when you catch some stares from late-night guests. You hesitate on whether or not you should go back before deciding that’d be pointless. Fingers hovering over the call button, it takes a beat before you hit and hear the number dial. He’ll probably scold you but you know he’ll answer.
He picks up in one ring. His voice is thick with sleep when he speaks. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”
“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Gege,” You say, crossing slippered feet against the tile of the hotel lobby floor. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?”
You shake your head before realizing he can’t see you. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “I thought I would sleep better if…I talked to…someone.”
It’s too embarrassing to tell him you wanted to talk to him, specifically. Caleb is quiet on the other side of the line before he laughs, just a little. “You were so adamant on wanting to go with your friends, huh? I thought you’d be just fine. Were you being brave for show?.”
You frown a little, groaning. “I did have fun. A lot of fun. We talked a lot before bed too, and now everyone else is asleep. It’s not like I regret going. And I wasn’t being brave, I was just—”
“Sure, sure. Still can’t sleep unless you know I’m there, huh?”
Silence stretches over the line. You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stretch your legs out, chin tucked against your chest.
“Maybe I should just hang up on you,”
“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Caleb says more gently. “You can call me as much as you want.”
“You’re being nice like when we were kids.” You observe.
Caleb scoffs a little. “I’m always nice.”
You roll your eyes and Caleb laughs like he knows you did it. It’s quiet again before he speaks. In the voice that makes him feel older than he is. “I’m worried about you so I’m being even nicer than usual. Is that okay?”
His tone is light, teasing, but there’s more to it than he lets on. You trace a pattern into the worn, fabric arm of the chair you sit in. “Why?”
“I get worried when you go somewhere I can’t see you.” He says agreeably.
Your face tugs into a frown, strangely mortified by the sincerity of it. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.”
Caleb laughs. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a kid.”
You huff. “That’s not fair. Does that mean I’ll have to beg you like this to do anything for the rest of my life? You’re too much.”
“At least until you turn eighteen.” Caleb replies, voice airy and content. “And if you’re still a little weakling then, probably a few more years after that too.”
You groan. “How terrible. What kind of brother are you? So cruel.” You pause “You’re more like my dad sometimes.”
“Since you’re my responsibility, I usually have to act as all three.” Caleb says with ease. “You should get used to it.”
Despite your grievances, your body relaxes exactly the way you expect as you listen to him talk. You yawn out loud, sleep making your eyes and limbs heavy.
“Finally tired?” He asks, voice softened. Doting. It’s so instant, you don’t have the will to fight it. “Go sleep. Make sure you eat tomorrow morning and don’t just wait until noon.”
“Okay, Gege.” You yawn again. “Goodnight. Love you,”
A long silence stretches between you. You wonder why he hesitates. “Love you too. Now go to bed. And don’t sneak out without telling your teachers again,”
“Wait, how did you—”
“I know everything.” He says dismissively. “Goodnight, okay?”
You pull back and stare at your phone. He’s a little scary sometimes.
“Yeah. Okay. Night,”
__
At sixteen, you go experience the first real heartbreak of your life.
It’s less over the actual relationship and more about the events leading to your break-up.
Your secret boyfriend of five months kissed one of your closest friends. And you caught them both red-handed.
It was in the gymnasium after school a few weeks ago. You nearly fist fought them both before getting overwhelmed and simply running away in tears to a nearby playground. Your two other best friends had to pry you out of a bed of mulch and take you home after wiping your tears.
You have a list of grievances about the situation. You like (?) the guy but you loved your friend - but now you have neither. And all of it happened for a reason you cannot wrap your mind around at all.
You’re thankful for your other friends who have taken your side in the matter while still trying to get to the bottom of it. And it’s good having them, but in your time of teenage angst - the one person you’d like to tell absolutely can’t know.
Not telling your older brother is hard. Keeping the secret makes you feel guilty enough, but it’s made harder when he’s home. And he will be for the next two weeks until he has to go back to the dorms. They’re on some kind of spring break.
Until then, you make it your mission to keep up appearances. Since the one person you don’t want to find out about your relationship is the person who’d find out the fastest.
Caleb is strict. Has been for as long as you can remember. Though you’ve never explicitly spoken on dating - he has, more than once, “subtly” warned you about having an interest in the opposite sex. You remember how you made stupid heart-eyes to one of his school friends years back and he still brings it up whenever you ask about him and how he’s doing. As if even wanting to know is some kind of betrayal.
(And well, maybe you do ask just to see him react like that. It’s…funny. It’s not like Caleb needs to know that.)
You don’t like keeping secrets from your brother. You’re close. Way closer than most people ever are with their siblings.
Maybe because Caleb has always taken care of you—he feels less like a sibling you can pointlessly squabble with and more like your guardian at times.
It’s hard for you to lie to him explicitly so the fact you’ve kept the relationship under wraps for five months is kind of impressive.
You always told yourself, you’d tell Caleb if it ever got serious. Truthfully though, you didn’t think it was going to last. Didn’t even want to accept until your friends pressured you.
Your now ex-boyfriend is the one who asked you out, which is what pisses you off the most. He’s one of the popular guys in your grade and he’s…nice. Was nice. You don’t think you’d be sad if he simply broke up with you and went out with your friend. You’d think less of him maybe, but it’s not like you’re in love with him.
It’s all the other stuff that’s weighing you down. It’s getting into a fight with your friend. It’s getting two-timed by the jackass who asked you out first. One you didn’t even like that much.
(Maybe not at all.)
It’s wanting to whine and complain about all of this to your older brother who would take your side but not being able to - because you can’t tell him half truths. You don’t have it in you. You barely have it in you to lie to him.
(Truthfully, you think the only reason you’ve been able to all this time is because you’ve kept said boyfriend at arms length somewhat knowingly. You haven’t had a proper kiss.)
Telling Caleb everything is a long time compulsion you don’t know if you’ll ever unlearn.You don’t know if it’s loyalty or gratitude—only that it makes you feel like a dog whose been leashed to a post for most of your life before it gets unchained.
Even when you’re no longer shackled to it, you find you can’t go anywhere. Being without it doesn’t free you, not really. You find it goes against what you know to try to escape without hearing the click of metal.
You stay by the post. You tell Caleb everything. It feels outright wrong to lie about something important.
(And it’s still hard lying about something unimportant.)
You’re sure it speaks to the depth of your attachment but you always end up spilling your guts to him. Like a child always wanting to please their parents and behave. You know Caleb will accept you, even if he gets angry. But you don’t actually know how he’ll react and that scares you into not wanting to tell him at all.
The thought of disappointing him is what makes you most uneasy.
So, you decide that you’ll take it to the grave. It’s your one half-ass rebellion and these are the natural consequences. As long as you process your friendship grief and wear out your anger - it’ll be smoothed over before you know.
Meticulously, you time your sessions of grieving and angry debriefing phone calls in the hours Caleb is out of the house. You work hard at keeping up as if nothing is happening in your life at all. You feel an unshakeable feeling of guilt the entire time, one that has you waking up in cold sweat but you ignore it because… well, you don’t really know how to fix it.
(Truthfully - you’re irrationally worried that he’d leave over something so trivial, and you’d be seven and all alone in the world again. As nonsensical as it is, and as much as you want to pretend otherwise, your attachment to Caleb really matters that much to you.)
You very nearly make it to the finish line of this plan too. Almost. .
In the middle of your crying session - you answer a knock on the door and assume it’s Granny (who does, at least partially, know what’s going on). You open it without thinking.
It’s the last person you want to see in the moment.
You quickly try to shut the door but Caleb is quicker. Slides his unnecessarily huge body through the small gap and shuts it behind him - trapping you both. You stumble back a little, but he catches you by the wrist to make sure you don’t actually fall.
You feel like a deer in headlights. Red, water rimmed eyes, runny nose, and face puffy - you try to pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe your face. Even though he’s already seen it. You’re too old to be crying like this in front of him. It’s humiliating.
Caleb grabs your wrists easily before you can wipe them away. You blink away a few unshed tears to get a better look at his face. You inhale, your chest tight - feet like lead as you look at your older brother. His pinched expression, almost pained but still tender. Still gentle. Just seeing it again makes you want to cry.
“I knew it,” He says. He drops your hands and instead cups your face with his palm, thumb wiping away tears as he cups your cheek. His expression is firm. “What’s wrong, hm?”
It’s like something in you collapses.
You give into it without any effort.
Caleb makes it so easy, after all, to be the weakest version of yourself.
With him, there’s no desire to fight what feels inevitable. So you let yourself fall to nothing in Caleb’s arms and cry. You’re torn up over your first real friendship fight so you let yourself lean on him. Just like you do at seven, and ten, and all the years before. Fist your hand tight in the fabric of his shirt like you’re worried he’ll shake you off, even though he never does.)
(Later, you’ll remember this conversation and realize that there was never any room for anyone else. It was a kind of teenage naivety to think otherwise.
You’ll hear the sentiment from everyone you know—friends, colleagues, family: the person you can be weakest with is who you should marry. If only you had known that then, too. Maybe accepting it would’ve been easier. Maybe you would’ve known sooner what feeling you’d spend the rest of your adult life chasing)
Caleb rests his hand on the back of your head as he tucks your face against his chest. It’s warm and soft. The comforting scent of detergent and cologne, undercut by oil and jetfuel. You wish you could bury yourself in.
You stand and cry like that in silence for a long while. Caleb holds you tight without asking any questions, his chin resting on top of your head, patting your back.
When you pull away from him, ready to explain - he walks himself over to your bed and sits on it. His expression is unreadable. Concerned but trying not to worry too son.
With his legs wide, he opens his arms out to you to invite you into his lap the way you did when you were kids. You wonder if he’s joking—trying to make you laugh and cheer you up.
But in the moment you’re so fragile, you tuck your chin and sit anyway. He stiffens briefly, as if surprised but soon enough, strong arms lay drape your waist as he lets you lean into him.
“Ready to talk about it?”
You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?”
He shakes his. “I’m all yours.”
Your chest feels warm and fluttery when he says it. It soothes you. .
You sniffle, adjusting in his lap. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks. “You don’t have to,”
“No, I—” You shift in his lap. “It feels wrong. Not telling you.”
Caleb hums. “You’re at that age. I already know that much. But no matter what I’m on your side, so don’t hide when you’re feeling sad or upset. Okay?”
“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“It’s really fine. It’s not like I can really be mad at you, right?”
You make a small, thoughtful noise. “You say that but you’re unexpectedly good at holding grudges.”
Caleb laughs. “Hm, that’s true. But not with you.”
You repeat the words to yourself, half-dizzy with a smile. “Not with me.”
Caleb smiles at you. He holds you a little tighter. You grab hold of his jacket, white knuckling the fabric until your heartbeat settles.
“So. Do you want to tell me what happened?”
__
( In the end, you tell Caleb everything from start to finish.
It’s just as you predicted. Once you start, it’s hard to give him anything but the full truth. Caleb listens to you intently without interjecting. Rests his chin on your shoulders, leaving you with nothing but his body language to pick up on his moods.
He stiffens when you tell him you had a boyfriend. Calms down when you tell him you didn’t like him very much, that all you did was hold hands and cuddle and you still think it was a waste.
Caleb listens to it all. Hangs onto your every word until you’ve tuckered yourself out. You think of what they say about how a burden shared is a burden halved and hope that it’s fine to depend on him this much all these years later.
Caleb is silent and steady for the duration of your talk. Towards the end he tells you: “No boy should ever make you cry. Should I get revenge for you?”
“Gege,” You say exasperated “And what about boys making me cry? That’s all they do from what I can tell.”
He doesn’t refute that. “ That’s true. It’s better to avoid them, really. If I ever make you cry you though, you can hit me,” He replies. You laugh a little.
“I don’t think you would make me cry without good reason.”
“If I do, I’ll make sure to repent for my whole life after.” He says, joking. Maybe joking.
Your cheeks warm “Your whole life feels like a long time.”
“Is it? You can’t really get rid of me easily, so I think it makes sense.”
“I guess that’s true. You can’t get rid of me either, you know.”
Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”)
__
At nineteen, you go to a club in the Linkon entertainment district for the very first time.
Your friends dragged you here. It’s your first year of the Hunter Academy and your first time living away from home. You’ve spent most of the school year completely focused on training and working towards your goals - trying to be strong enough to work alongside a certain someone and hold your own.
You’re not here of your own volition, but honestly? It’s not so bad. Drinking and dancing with your friends proves fun for the first couple of hours at least.
After that gets old though, really more stressful than anything.
You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. That’s the main cause of your current unease. The club is 21+ and it was already an ordeal getting in. The longer you stay, the more restless you feel—the more you want to leave before anyone gets caught up in anything.
You’ve been knocking back drinks all evening, courtesy of some of your friends - and the night is starting to come to a halt for you internally. All the discomfort and overstimulation go from engaging to overwhelming, and your head is starting to spin.
You’re in the section where you and your friends got invited. Apparently there’s someone tonight who's popular in the nightlife scene - son of some rich business man you think. Your friend has been doing you all the solid of keeping him happy. Your eyes flit over to where they dance on the floor and you feel yourself wince just looking at them.
Shit, your head is throbbing.
Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sink back in your seat and think about what the best strategy is to get out of here.
All of you should go home honestly. There won’t be major consequences for simply being intoxicated, but sneaking into an establishment like this really might affect your ability to graduate. Your academy is not known for its leniency.
Aside from that, you’re tired. You should have more energy than this. You would normally, you think. But it’s a Friday and you had taken up some extra training since you had no plans to be out. The addition of alcohol dehydrating you and the sharp and particular pain from stiletto heels makes you lethargic. Dead on your feet.
It’s later in the night but not so late people are leaving. A second wave of attendees are shuffling in now. You have half a mind to mix with the crowd and leave by yourself. It feels like a good idea at least.
But then, more people are brought to your section. You’re only half-paying attention as the guy from earlier, the one paying for you all, happily introduces the new group to people already sitting.
“...And Caleb, it’s good to see you. You’re usually too busy to come to things like this,”
A pair of eyes bore into you. You freeze completely, eyes glued to your phone screen as you catch a glimpse of the one person you absolutely do not want to be meeting here.
“Yeah,” A familiar voice says. His voice is light like he’s not noticed anything.”I’m glad I came. I’ve already seen some interesting things.”
The dull throb in your head turns the corner to a sharp pain. A feeling of complete misery washes over you. Truly, the worst possible outcome. You wonder what Caleb is doing here in the first place. From what you know, this isn’t usually his kind of establishment either. Maybe someone from his dorms dragged him here too? You think it’d be something like that.
You make the mistake of looking up as Caleb slides in opposite to you with a few other friends. His expression is completely unreadable as your eyes meet across the table. He flashes you a smile that makes your nerves stand on end. All you can do is look away, eyes flitting back down your phone.
A text appears at the top of your screen.
from cpt big bro (1:03am): nice to see you.
A feeling of unease immediately feels you, but when you look back up at Caleb - he’s pretending like you don’t even exist.
You don’t know why you feel so guilty in the first place. Sure, you snuck in here but it’s not like you did something unheard of. And you’re past the legal drinking age in the first place. And the clothes weren’t your idea. You’ll tell him that when he inevitably asks.
You’re not doing anything so wrong but you’re worried he’ll get the wrong idea.
(A voice in your head asks: what idea? You tell yourself it’d be embarrassing if your brother thought you were looking for a hook-up. It’s reasonable enough.
You decide not to interrogate the reasoning any further, even when the feeling doesn’t go away.)
You find your gaze falling in your lap as you try to dissolve the overwhelming feeling of shame and upset just knowing Caleb’s seen you like this.
It’s worse though to have him ignoring you. You know he’s probably doing it for your sake. Even knowing he’s not malicious doesn’t make it much better. Your eyes stay glued to your phone screen.
You don’t know how much time passes before someone else joins you at the table.
A woman this time.
“Caleb! You actually came,” She says over the music. You watch her from your peripherals as she slides in next to him without hesitation. “I thought Kenji was lying to get more girls to show up.”
You hear him laugh a little. You think he sounds a little uncomfortable, but maybe you’re reading too much into it. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Isn’t that always how that goes?” She hums. Your eyes widen slightly seeing the way she presses herself up against his arm. “But I’m glad you're here. Maybe I can convince you to dance.”
“You can try,” He says. You know he’s just being amiable. Or at least, you think he’s just trying to be amiable.
You’ve never really seen Caleb flirt with a girl, so you don’t have a real reference for what does and does not count.
It’s the first time in all of your life you’ve ever seen Caleb get hit on so closely. You’re used to his popularity of course - but back then, Caleb usually made a point to run away. No one ever got near enough. He’s always been nice about it of course, tries to let people down easy.
You don’t know the girl who's flirting with him now, but you can tell that they know each other. They’re sitting close, but not enough to be obvious. You can hear them too, though. Hear how she talks to him. It’s not hard to tell that she’s hitting on him. And your brother isn’t reciprocating but he’s not quite turning her down. It doesn’t seem to bother him, enough that when he makes jokes playfully rejecting her - the conversation still doesn’t sour.
They get along, is what you mean. Better than you thought they would.
Your stomach churns.
You try not to think about whats making you sick. But it washes over you all at once. More dizzy than nauseous. You feel like someone is tying your insides into a coil. The more you try to divert your gaze - the harder it is to ignore it. Caleb glances at you from time to time, but it seems accidental at best.
Your heart is hammering. You think about how long it’s been since you’ve last seen each other. All the things that have happened while you’re apart.
When you find you can’t sit and handle anymore, your body makes the decision to leave for you.
It happens quickly. You stand to your feet, nearly stumbling in your heels as you talk to a friend on the dance floor and make-up a nonsense excuse about needing to leave. She offers to call you a taxi, but by then you’re already making a bee-line to the door and out of the club.
It’s late when you leave. Your whole body feels like it’s trapped in ice as the unforgiving night air whips your skin and leaves you cold. You stumble down the steps in your heels until you finally make it onto the curb with all the other drunk club-goers trying to get home or sober up.
You’ll flag down a taxi, go home, and pretend nothing happened. You repeat the routine to yourself over and over.
It feels like the only way you can handle it. Your mind can't process it otherwise. Can’t think too hard on what you might’ve been privy too.
“Where are you runnin’ off to?”
You freeze when you hear Caleb’s voice. You have half a mind to break into a sprint but you aren’t sure you can without breaking your ankles with your heels. Another part of you is preening over the fact he came immediately to find you. You turn around and try to walk away briskly - only to feel a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you towards him and making you come to a halt.
“Let me go,” You mumble.
He holds you a little tighter.
“Don’t be like that. No matter how much training you have, I know you can’t run in heels so quit it,” Caleb says, with a sigh. “Why’d you run off?”
“What do you mean why?” You say, words slurring. “Who’d wanna see—hicc—”
Caleb frowns at you. “Why’re you trying to be tough if you can barely keep yourself standing up straight?”
He sighs, bending down. You let out a noise as he undoes the strap of your heel.
“Take them off,”
You pout. “How am I supposed to walk home like that?”
“I’ll carry you on my back,” He replies. “Your ankles with have a hard time if you keep wobbling like that,”
“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.”
You’re being difficult on purpose. Drunk and upset, arguing with anything he says. Caleb knows this you’re sure but he doesn’t seem to have a reaction to it besides mild exasperation. Despite that though, he still tends to you.
He makes a face at you before sighing. You watch as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it over you. It’s oversized on him, even more so on you. It fits more like a dress and covers more than your outfit does.
When you’ve slipped your arms through it, he drops down onto his knees and undoes the other strap of your heel. He turns around after that, signalling for you to get on his back. You want to refuse him but you find you don’t have the words to do so. You comply with his request, putting your arms around his neck as he lifts you with frightening ease.
He bends down with you on his back to pick your heels up and carry them.
“Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” You mumble. Caleb sighs. It makes you bite your lip.
“It can wait a bit.”
“Hmph.”
You find you have nothing left to argue with him. You give up on trying to refuse and let him carry you, both hands lifting you up as you keep your arms around his neck. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, worried your makeup will smear on it.
You don’t know how long you walk. Your eyes are closed for the duration of it and you only open them again when you sense a change of lighting. The noise of an automatic door and a tired greeting alarms you. You feel embarrassed, suddenly, at the idea that someone else has seen you like this.
Caleb just greets them as normal.
“Aren’t you gonna let me down already?”
“Are you feeling uncomfortable?”
“No, but—”
He doesn’t respond to you further. You get the impression there’s not much meaning to continue arguing so you keep quiet.
You watch from over his shoulder as he roams the aisles until he comes across cheap pairs of slippers and socks - next to other random household items. He picks the correct size without asking you. Seeing it only adds to the strange feeling you’ve had since leaving the club.
He goes to self check-out, pays for the sandals, then carries you to one of the few seats and table near the window of the 7/11. Carefully, he sets you down on one, your heels on another, then silently opens the packaging. He drops to his knees and looks up at you in silent question.
“You don’t need to—”
He doesn’t say anything when you attempt to refuse him. Keeps quiet and just waits for you, not unkindly. You frown and hold your foot out to him. He rolls each sock carefully onto your feet, pulling them all the way up over your ankle before the slippers follow.
“Do they fit okay?”
“Mm,”
You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out.
“C’mon. Pick out something to eat or drink so you sober up a bit,”
“While we talk?” You ask, voice suddenly small. He pauses, smiles just barely, and pats your head with the same firm hand he always does. It makes you want to cry.
“Yeah. While we talk.”
You nod as Caleb helps you off the seat. “I’ll go get some water.”
“Okay,”
You think of what you want to eat. Childhood memories whisper answers to you. Chips and candy - sweet and salty so you have balance. You remember the way Caleb would cut into his own snack budget for you to get what you wanted. He’d pretend to complain, but he’d smile at you while you ate.
You pick the same things you used to. You wonder if he’ll notice.
He returns with two bottles of water. “Did you finish choosing?”
You nod. His eyes drift to your hands. He cracks another smile that makes you happier then it should.
“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?”
Your heart flutters. You follow him quietly. He goes to the cashier the second time around - amiable, friendly and easing some unspoken tension. Apologizes for the inconvenience and, with familiar diligence, asks if there’s a recycling bin for him to toss trash nearby. The cashier offers to do it for him.
Afterwards, he holds his hand out to you like it’s only natural for you to want to hold it. You take it.
Of course, you do.
He guides you outside, and the two of you sit on the curb. An expectant look appears on his face when he dusts off place beside him where he’s hoping you’ll sit. You do, knees touching - folding your hands into your lap. He opens the bottle of water and hands it to you.
“We could’ve just shared one,” You offer.
“I’m not so stingy,” Caleb says.. You purse your lips. You want to tell him that’s not what you mean, but you don’t want to ask yourself what you do mean.
You take it from him and drink.
Silence stretches over the seemingly endless night. The streets of Linkon prove to be busy and limitless. Given the district you’re in, you’d expect it to be more packed - but the streets are desolate. Proof of life resides in the lights of buildings and clubs but now, here—it feels like you’re the only two people left in the world.
It’s quiet for a long while. You sit like that until you break the ice.
“You still haven’t asked me anything.”
“Well,” Caleb looks at you from the corner of his eyes and shrugs, taking a drink. “I can kind of guess why you were there in the first place. Don’t have much of a clubbing spirit, you know. Your friends probably told you to go right?”
You nod.“You’re not upset?”
“Mm,” Caleb sighs. “Not at you for just going. It’s hard to be mad at you especially when you…” He trails off, an almost imperceptible smile on his. He shakes his head before continuing and you miss the window to ask about what that was all about. He glances at you again. “Your dress is too short, though.”
You feel heat crawl up your skin. “It’s not that bad. And I’m nineteen,”
“So? You’re still my baby sister. Naturally I won’t approve, right? You know that much.”
You bend over your knees, pouting. You feel weirdly happy but try not to think about it. “You’re so unreasonable sometimes.”
He clicks his tongue. “I’m being very reasonable right now,”
“...Mm.”
Tension lingers in the air. You open the chips Caleb got you and tilt it his way. A peace offering. He takes one.
“Why’d you run off?”
You make a face. Will yourself to not cry as you tuck your chin.
“...I dunno.”
He glances at you. You miss the knowing expression on his face. “Even if you were doing a good job of lying, you know that wouldn’t work on me right? Did something happen? Something you can’t tell me?”
“Nothing happened but you—”
Caleb interjects. “Me? So it’s because of me then.”
You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought.
“I didn’t mean to ruin your night showing up. Didn’t know you’d even be there. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” Caleb starts.
“It’s not that,” You say quickly. The frustration just thinking about it makes your throat well up. You can feel it. You drink water trying to wash it down.
“Then?”
It slips out of you, exasperated as you sit up and turn to look up at him.
“You were ignoring me,” You say, voice wet and shaky - hands fisted at your knees, shoulders tight. You still haven’t sobered up much. Your lips curl into a frown. Caleb is stunned into silence. “You didn’t even… I thought you were mad at me. And then that girl sitting next to you was—”
You stop yourself. Caleb looks at you wide-eyed. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again soon after. He processes what you’ve said slowly, though he doesn’t seem surprised by all of it.
“I wasn’t mad at you. Surprised, but not so mad. Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t ignore you. It’d make more sense for me to drag you out myself, don’t you think?”
You huff. “It felt like you were mad at me. And—”
You want to ask. Who was she? Why was she so close to you? Why didn’t you push her away? Do you like her?
Nothing comes out right. You bite your lip. “That girl… was she your friend?”
Caleb stops. He looks awkward all of a sudden. “Huh? No, no. She’s my senior. She has someone else she likes,”
“She was hitting on you,” You say bluntly, sticking your feet out. “And you didn’t stop her.”
For a brief moment, you swear he looks amused. His expression settles again quickly. “I know she’s not being serious so I didn’t feel like there was any point causing a rift.”
“She’ll get the wrong idea. If you don’t turn her down properly and just let her—” Be all over you. Touch you so close. Get in your space. “...flirt with you.”
A beat. “You think I should turn her down properly then?”
It hangs in the air. You want me to turn her down?
You bite the inside of your lip. “Yeah.”
“Will it make you feel better?”
Your eyes meet. For a brief second you feel like someone has stolen all the air from your lungs in one go. You look down.
“Yeah,”
Caleb’s breath hitches just a touch before he speaks. “Okay.”
He opens his arm up to invite you closer and slot into his side the way you used to. Blinking wetly, you scoot across the concrete and tuck yourself under the safety of his arm. Your face is close to his chest. He smells like cologne and iit makes your heart beat feel erratic. His hand comes up to stroke your head and you let him soothe you like you have so many times before.
“No matter what happens, there’s nothing you could do or say that’d make me angry enough to ignore you. I’d never ignore you if I didn’t think you wanted me to,”
“I never want you to ignore me, ever.” You say immediately. “Never ever.”
He chuckles. The way it reverbs in your body makes you dizzy. “Okay, princess. Noted. Do you wanna sit a little longer or should I call a car for you?”
You tuck into his side. It’d be nice if you never had to leave him ever again. Pressing into him, your words muffle in the fabric of his shirt. You tug at the hem.
“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.”
He hesitates above you. But a while later, you feel his lips at the crown of your head - right at your hairline. His voice is gentle. “Sure. As long as you want,”
__
At twenty-two, you often dream of your older brother.
At first, it’s grief. Caleb dies not long after your birthday and in the months that pass - the warm memories of your childhood seem to follow you into sleep. Some nights, it feels kind to see him. In your dream, you run into his arms and he holds you tight when you tell him you missed him.
Grief holds the rest of you hostage. You want for nothing and think of nothing except your brother. You miss Grandma too, of course you do.
But there’s nothing in the entire world like a brother. Like your brother—who you could ask anything of. It’s hard to unpack the loneliness you feel. Hard to explain it to other people.
In the months you correct yourself from saying have to had—and watch peoples eyes change into one of sorrow and pity. At the worst of it, you can’t even pretend to think of that as a kindness. Can’t even thank them for being nice. At the worst of your grief, you find yourself especially angry at being pitied. You look at people and want to say they don’t understand. They don’t know what you lost. There are no words that make it digestible. You bite your tongue, give a tight-lipped smile.
What you wanted to say was this: How dare you act like you understand what I lost? How dare you feel sorry when you don’t know the half of it? My brother is dead. A piece of me is missing.
You never say any of it. You bury the words in the black vast of your grief and throw yourself at finding answers.
Your feelings about the incident change the more you find out. About Grandma and the abomination in your heart—and you cycle from anger to sorrow to unease.
They never change about Caleb though. The apparition of him, warm and broad, cycles through your dreams every now and again. Some nights, you wake up expecting to be seven years old again—clinging to your older brother, the only thing you know in the world that’s made you lose everything.
Most nights, you wake up from dreamless sleep and feel yourself wanting to cry.
(You don’t cry often when he’s gone, even when you should.
Who would be there to hold you now when you do?)
When you finally see Caleb again, see him alive—your emotions become just as complicated as your mind has been in the months of his absence.
You’re ecstatic, you’re angry, you’re terrified, you’re so so sad. You are all of these things at the same time.
And then, you realize that the death of Caleb did not only change you. Your older brother comes back to you. He’s warm, kind, and gentle sometimes. But it’s not the same. There’s something about him, inexplicable, that is changed forever.
Caleb dies and comes back wrong—but this only strengthens your resolve. To do what, exactly? You aren’t sure. You don’t know what you want and you still know nothing about the Aether Cores. Or about what Caleb does.
All you do know is that your older brother has come back to you, and you are empty without him. You’d rather have him wrong than not have him at all. You’ll fix him or become wrong with him before you ever let go of him again.
(Even the way he is now, sometimes, he seems worried about ruining you. You want to say sometimes—then ruin me. You know what he’d say if you did. He knows he’d tell you to watch your tongue and not to say what you don’t mean.
You’ve thought about it, though. You’d rather that then he disappear again. You’d rather you know what's going on then not. )
Things have changed. Caleb has changed.
You have changed, most of all.
When you hear from Caleb for the first time he no longer wants to be your brother - that he’s tired from playing house with you, your first reaction is devastation. The memory of that dread is so strong, you still feel it when you replay it all in your mind. Caleb above you, caging you in, unreadable—no longer what you know.
You don’t think about anything. You can’t. It destroys you completely to hear him say it. Makes you want to cling to him and beg. Cry loudly enough to wake the version of him that did want to be your brother. That loved you unconditionally.
When you have to go the next morning and find a memory of your childhood tucked away - you realize not all of him is lost to you. That the parts of him you loved so dearly have not entirely disappeared.
So you stay, and try to mend the broken pieces of your relationship back together.
At twenty-two, you often dream of your brother.
When he comes back to you, you think you’ll be given one more dream before he disappears. You figure the real thing is back in your hands. It’ll go back to the way it was before, where your sleep is long and dreamless but that’s fine. As long as you can wake-up and see the sun, without feeling like yours was stolen from you—anything is fine.
At twenty-two, even after you learn he’s alive, you often dream of your brother.
The first time you ever have a wet dream of Caleb is just after he comes back to Linkon.
After you sit in the garden with Caleb and blow the hydrangea petals away from his face, and his hand comes up to touch you. After he promises to take good care of the flower he takes back to SkyHaven. After he tells you there was no way he’d be able to stay away from you.
When you sleep the night after he returns home, you dream of Caleb again.
This time you’re in your bedroom—the one from your childhood home, that Caleb spent so many years taking up space in. You dream of your brother on top of you and you both look a little younger. His face contorted with pleasure, and your hand being the one to give it to him. The image missing from the waist down, all you can see is the clear view of him over you. Making it so obvious what you’re doing. Doing together.
You wake up from your dream with a feeling like something’s crushing your chest. A wheezing breath as you struggle to calm down. A distinct feeling of wetness between your legs that cling to your PJs when you stumble into your bathroom - trying to relieve yourself and being confronted with the reality of what just happened.
The first time you have a wet dream about Caleb—you only feel shame. You tell yourself that it’s a fluke, and that dreams are meaningless anyway. It makes you violated to think of him like that. You can’t control what you do in your sleep. You decide not to dwell.
Weeks pass and you see Caleb again. You share fruit and more conversation, and the following night - you have another wet dream. This one, more vivid than the last. Different. You dream of Caleb with a baton to your neck and the tension in the room when he caged you in his arms. In your dreams he’s cruel as he drags the metal end down your body, pushes it against your—
You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable.
The cycle repeats for as long as you see him. Every time Caleb appears in your life, you dream of him the next night. You wake up in shock, wet down your legs and spend all morning trying to suppress it down as far as you can.
You tell yourself all sorts of things when it happens. You reason with yourself. Dreams are nonsense. You can’t control them. It’s your brother. You don’t think of him like that.
(You think of all the times you’ve seen him since he’s returned. All the ways his eyes soften for you, all the ways his hands linger—how ever since he’s denied being your brother at all, you think of what that might make you now.
It breaks your heart to not have him as your brother. Your precious family. An unbreakable bond. The one you love most. He touches you the way brothers aren’t supposed to, and you remind yourself of what you can’t have. You remind yourself of what loss you would feel first.
He always looks pained when he touches you like that, though. And, for some strange reason, sometimes you want to tell him: Did you know I dreamt of you touching me? So you don’t need to make that face. Like you’re wrong. My dreams couldn’t make you this gentle.)
The harder you try to force it down, the harder it is to pretend it’s nothing. You push and push and push—but each time you see him, the cycle repeats.
Eventually, it’s too hard to pretend. You refuse to name it, or think about it—but when you let your mind stop forcing it so deep into your subconscious, it’s easier to reconcile.
It doesn’t go away. But your skin prickles with embarrassment, and you sigh, and you move on from it. Even if the dreams don’t stop, you can go on about your day when you leave it all alone.
You think maybe, if you and Caleb never saw each other again, it might even work to rid you of the dreams completely.
But he’s your brother—your precious family, the one you love most. You see him all the time. Whenever your schedule allows it, he’s the first person you check with to see if you can come spend time with him. Even if he can’t be with you, you stay over at his place to eat his food and watch TV on his expensive flatscreen.
It makes you feel like you live together again.
(You try not to reel at the thought. It’s normal for siblings to stay together from time to time. It’s like a sleep over. That’s all.)
So it’s not unusual for you anymore to drop by his place. You even have a key.
(Your key, you think. Caleb put a stupid green apple cover on the top part of it. It’s for you, and only you.)
Even when you do come over, sometimes you only see him at night. You have little conversations before you need to go to sleep (or rather, when he makes you go to sleep.) But it still feels better than only seeing him sometimes.
So it’s not unusual for you to be here in your PJs and watching something stupid while draped on Caleb’s couch.
It is unusual, however, to have him come home so soon.

PART TWO: SO ONLY SAY MY NAME, IT WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

You pick your head up as soon as you hear the security system for Caleb’s apartment announce someone at the door. The time reads 6:56pm.
Heavy footfall makes you pick yourself up, crawling to the edge of the couch and standing on your knees to catch sight of him. You lean forward.
“You’re home early.”
It takes him a second to register who's talking, but he smiles slightly when he does. Turnt towards the doors, he’s leaned against a wall as he undoes the laces of his steel-toed boots.
“So are you,”
You give him a melodic hum. “I got off since we have a holiday. I have Monday off too.”
“Yeah? That’s good. You should try to rest up some,”
“I will. Gotta catch up on my shows first though,” You reply thoughtfully. “I’m like half-way through ‘em.”
“Workin’ hard I see. Try not to over-exert yourself.” He adds, playfully sarcastic. You nod.
You answer him in silly earnest. “Of course. I’m more relaxed here so don’t worry.”
He pauses as he finally stands back up. You see him at the other side of the room with a smile.
“Yeah?”
You feel something in your stomach that you choose to ignore. “Yeah. Plus I don’t have to eat my own groceries.”
“It’s better you eat mine than me wasting them,” He says with a shrug.
“How generous of you.”
“Right?”
You lean forward, resting more of your weight on the couch. “Did they just send you home early too? Or is it some special Colonel privilege?”
You see him shake his head as he slides off his coat and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a plastic bottle of water out of it before taking a few long drinks.
“Mm, kinda the first.” He says thoughtfully. “I got injured in the field today, had to go to the infirmary. It’s a minor injury but I checked in with my commanding officer and he told me I might as well go home.”
You frown. “What kind of injury?”
“It’s really fine,”
“Caleb.”
He sighs, turning towards you. The open fridge door illuminates him. “Just got a bruise along my thigh from how I fell. Nothing broken.” He says. You’re still frowning at him. “Don’t worry about it.”
“How can you be fine if they sent you home?”
“It’s not like that,”
“I don’t believe you,” You say petulantly. Caleb shuts the fridge door with his hip as he laughs.
“What, you want me to show it to you?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s on my thigh. I’d have to take off my pants,” He says, laughing. He joins you on the couch - sitting where you were laying—eyeing you while he waits for you to come join him. You narrow your eyes suspiciously but crawl over to him anyway, sitting beside him with your legs up. “Unless you’re really just wanting me to strip, promise it’s fine. I’ve had it worse,”
“That’s not a good thing. If it were me you’d be freaking out already and fussing over me.”
“It’s different,”
“Is not,”
“Is too. My little sisters still a bit of weakling, see—if I don’t take good care of her she’ll end up hurting herself even worse,” Caleb says, voice high.
“I’m not even weak. Maybe not as strong as you but not weak.”
“When you get stronger than me, we can talk about who gets to worry about who,” He says, flicking your forehead lightly. You pretend to flinch at the injury.
“You let me do whatever I want except worry about you.”
“You got it. Glad you’re getting up to speed.”
You elbow him. Caleb laughs.
You sit back with your knees to your chest, frowning. Caleb leans back, arm stretched on the back of the couch. Inching closer to him subconsciously, your brow furrows as you think about his injury.
It’s like he reads your mind.
“You’re really worried about it.” He murmurs.
You purse your lips. “No shit.”
“Don’t cuss,”
“I’m twenty-two!”
“So?” He raises his eyebrow.
“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.”
“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”
You glare at him. “I’ll make sure to wait until you’re fully recovered so it counts,”
He relaxes into the couch, eyes filled with mirth. “Smart move.”
“You’re still in your outside clothes. Don’t you want to wash up first?”
“Do I smell bad?”
“No, that’s not it. But if you get too comfortable, you might not want to get up to do it, you know?”
“I’m not like a certain someone, so I’m not worried about that.” Caleb says. You huff as he continues on. “I just wanted to sit with you for a bit first. Is that not okay?”
“I didn’t say all of that. Don’t put words in my mouth, jeez.”
He hums. “Just checking,”
Comfortable quiet settles between you as Caleb sits and watches your drama with you intently.
You relax further into the couch as you settle back in, once again engrossed in your show. It’s a period and fantasy drama about a once noble woman getting married against her will to a supposedly cruel emperor. Crude description aside, it has high political stakes, violence, and good writing.
The romance aspect of the show was what drew you in more-or-less, but it’s a slowburn between the main couple. You’ve mostly been watching for the high-tension plot. It captures both your attention and seemingly Caleb’s too.
“Wait,” Caleb interrupts half-way through an episode. “I want to watch the rest with you but I need to shower,”
You smile at him. “It’s good right? It’s not a lot of romance but there’s other stuff. We can watch it together after you wash-up and maybe…we can have a drink together.”
“You’re so interested in that,”
“I want to know what kind of drunk you are. It’s not fair you’ve seen me drunk and I haven’t,”
“Pfft,” He rubs your head with hand, amused. “What kind of reason is that? But you know what? Sure. Order whatever you want with my card while I go shower.”
“Yay!”
You pause the TV as Caleb stands up and stretches, fishing for his wallet and passing you his card. Snatching it from between his fingers, you give him a mischievous look that makes him laugh.
“Go shower,”
“I am, I am,” He holds his hands up. “I’ll be quick,”
__
You watch your drama late into the evening.
You drink casually with Caleb as you binge watch the final few episodes of the season you started on. You take a break later in the night to have dinner delivered to you, but afterwards - you decide to keep watching.
Caleb wasn’t lying when he told you he holds his drink well. You’ve both been knocking them back since eight pm. Even with the time to sober up in between, he seems like he hasn’t had a single thing to drink the entire time.
You feel far from wasted, a warm meal in your stomach settling some of inebriation - but you still feel somewhat tipsy. At least enough to have that pleasant, warm, loose-limbed buzzed. You’re sober enough that Caleb doesn’t get on your case about drinking enough water - though you sure it’ll be a different story in another hour or two if it keeps going.
Half-past midnight - you’re two episodes deep into the third season of your drama.
Relaxed, you’re half-way draped on Caleb - legs in hips lap and nursing another cheap can of beer. After several episodes of action and violence - the story is starting to get back to the romance aspect for the main couple.
Maybe it’s your fault for not thinking it through, but you’re really not expecting a graphic sex scene to play so soon after so much high plot.
In the first place, it doesn’t start out like a sex scene. The main character went to go visit her injured husband after he returned from battle. Sweet, you thought. Maybe you’d get to see them have some intense, longing eye-contact like they’ve been having for a while now.
You aren’t sure when exactly it takes a left turn. You’re tipsy and comfortable and warm. On your phone looking things up on social media.
They kiss once, then twice before a breathy moan cuts through the comfortable.
Before you can scramble to find the remote and scrub through it, the scene changes instantly in temperature. A few tepid kisses rapidly go from chaste to deep, all tongue and teeth.
Near full blown nudity flashes across your T.V. screen as a strange heat creeps up your neck. You feel like you’ve had enough mental torment when you see the male lead kiss his way down the female leads neck. It’s more uncensored then you thought.
Your voice is trembling a little. “We should uhm,” You swallow thickly. “Where’s the remote..?”
Caleb feels a little… different. He seems startled hearing you speak, looking at you with lidded eyes. “Not sure. Think you had it last,”
“Oh, right. I don’t,” Another moan rips through the tension between you. It takes your full body effort not to jump. “....really remember where I put it,”
“You want me to help you look?”
You blink at him. “I mean… we should, probably look for it. Since, uhm… you know.”
“Are you uncomfortable?” Caleb interrogates. You stare at him.
“You aren’t?”
Caleb is quiet for a long time, like he’s thinking hard about the answer.
“I feel fine,” Is what he says after what feels like forever.
“You feel… fine.”
He nods without looking at you. “We can skip it if you want. Probably have to get up to find the remote, though.”
You sink back in the couch, your face feeling warm. “It’s fine, then.”
You’re a little startled as the couple on T.V starts to really have sex - at least more than foreplay. It’s not full frontal, but the sounds and angles are enough to get the point across. Caleb just… watches. Relaxed.
“You sure?” He offers, glancing at you again. “It’s fine if it’s too much for you,”
Frowning, you sit up slightly. “What do you mean too much for me?”
“Hm?”
“You’re saying it like you’re used to it,”
Caleb gives you another glance. Assess you once or twice before looking back at the T.V.
“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?”
You find yourself at a loss for words. Is he used to this? That can’t be the case, right?
“You never dated anyone when we were growing up.”
Caleb nods. “You don’t really need to date someone for something like that, though it’s better that way.”
You find yourself shocked by his answer. He’s changed a lot, you know that but—
But it feels wrong. You can’t imagine him just hooking up with someone and having a one-night stand. He’d only ever do it with a girlfriend. So if he has any experience, it’d have to be with someone like that.
He smiles at you. “You’re making a scary face.”
You look up at him, unsure of what face you should be making. The question slips out before you can stop to think about whether or not you should even ask it.
“So are you… used to it?”
He pauses before leaning in. “This is the second time you’ve asked,”
“That’s…”
“I don’t think it’s the kind of thing someone’s little sister should ask their older brother right?”
You snap your mouth shut. Caleb leans a little closer. “Right?”
“You’re not answering,” You whisper. Your foreheads touch.
“Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?” Caleb says.
Your eyes widen, teeth pressing against your lip as you tear your gaze away from his face. . “No,”
“Is that what my answer should be or are you answering what I just asked?”
You don’t give him a reply.
Caleb lets out a soft breath of laughter before he finally seems to decide he’s teased you enough. He gets like this more and more lately. Most times you cool off from it quickly but…
You aren’t sure what drives you to make a move. What makes you tug him back to you by the front of his shirt when he tries to pull away. If it’s the alcohol, or the jealousy that makes you do it. It’s hard to say what the source of your heart pumping so hard is—only that it’s all Caleb’s doing.
Your hands fist in the front of his shirt as you drag him forward and kiss him as hard as you possibly can, only barely avoiding biting down with your teeth. Chaste but harsh, you press your lips together with nothing but pure desperation, air pushing hard through your lungs as you do. For a minute or two, longer than a kiss should last.
And then, you pull away. Out of breath like you just ran a marathon, cheeks hot and flushed. Your first kiss that you initiated. It’s almost mundane.
Embarrassed, your first instinct is to jump off the couch and lock yourself in the bathroom. But Caleb knows you. Even better than you know yourself.
He catches your wrist as he leans towards you. His expression is unreadable.
“You kissed me,” He says, completely entranced. “You did right? I didn’t just dream that?”
“It’s your imagination. You must be drunk,”
He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.”
Your frown deepens. How do you refuse him when he acts like that?
Your heart feels like a jackhammer against your ribcage. You can’t. You really can’t. You shouldn’t have—
“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,”
Blatant heartache fills his eyes. It feels like something is crushing your chest. “Is that so?”
You squeeze your eyes, relenting only a little. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “We can’t.”
Caleb scoffs “Why? Because you see me as your brother?”
“You are my brother. You are and you always will be, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t, I can’t. You’re—”
“Why can’t you?” His voice is raw, almost desperate. Trying so hard to understand you. It makes you hurt seeing him like that. “What can I do to become more to you?”
“You’re already`—” Everything to me. “You’ll always be the most important person to me.”
His hands grip tighter, devastation darkening the familiar aura of warmth you’ve come to love. Like he’s at the precipice of something considering what he should do. It takes him a while to come upon answers. Staring at you so desperately before closing his eyes, loosening his grip like he’s ready to let you go.
He looks like he makes a choice then. Really makes one. You can already predict what’ll do. What smile he’ll give you but it feels different from other times.
You hold onto him before he can, hand fisted in his shirt. He startles again, softens, not agitated despite how wishy-washy you’re being.
“It’s not that I don’t want you,” You say, so quietly it almost evades you both. “But I don’t want to lose you as my brother if we become more than that.”
Silence falls between you.
“You won’t lose me,” He replies, gently and easily. Your eyes meet. It’s nice. “I want to be everything to you, remember? All of it. I want you to only think of me for the rest of our life. For us to only need each other. You don’t need to give anything up. When have I ever said no to you?”
You turn away from him, shaking your head. “You said that you never saw me as family, that you wouldn’t be—”
Caleb stops you. “I want to be everything to you. Everything. I want us to only need each other. I had to make you understand. From the start, I never intended to give anything up for anyone else.”
“But that’s…”
“I don’t care if it’s wrong,” He says, reading your mind. “I’m asking what you want. Tell me who you want me to be. I’ll do all of it for you.
You glance down, away from him - guilt, remorse, fear. You’re resolve is wavering, but you’re too afraid to say it out loud.
His voice softens. A hand, big and warm and kind, cups your cheek. You know. Know every scar, every touch.
“Tell your big brother what you want and he’ll give it to you.”
Something in you shatters. The weak resistance you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately, denying yourself of what you’ve wanted deep down all this time. Having it offered to you, handed to you—proves to be too much. It all comes tumbling down.
Your voice comes out like a whine. Your dependency more than shows.
“Touch me,” You gasp, voice wet with tears. Caleb cracks a slight smile. “Touch me, please—want you so bad. Don’t want anyone else to have you.”
Caleb looks elated. Adoring. Madly and terribly in love.
“What a crybaby, hm?” He pulls away from you, standing up before scooping you in his arms “Here. Hold onto me. I’ll carry you,”
“Caleb, I’m too—”
He stops you. “I have a bionic arm. Don’t say you’re too heavy. It could carry ten of you.”
He keeps good on his promise. You wrap your arms around Caleb’s neck as he picks you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, a gasp leaves your mouth as his hands rest under your thighs - lifting you as he walks you to his room. It reminds you of when you were little though a lot has changed since then.
The realization makes you nervous.
“The TV is still playing.” You mumble..
“You won’t be able to hear it from my room,”
“This is embarrassing,”
“You’ll live.” Caleb hums.
“I hate you,”
Caleb opens his bedroom door with his hip and closes it the same way, walking you to the end of his bed and dropping you on to his mattress. He leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs to keep himself up - inches away from your face.
“Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’ll make me sad.” He says sweetly.
You pout. “Sorry,”
He laughs a little. “It’s okay,”
This close to you, you feel a strange warmth glow your whole body. You crane your neck up to kiss him chastely, pulling away and feeling shy again.
“You taste like beer,”
Caleb stares at you for a long time, smiling slightly. Dazed. “Should I go brush my teeth?”
You look down, away from his face, your hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “No…”
He presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing. “How can you be so cute, hm?”
“Quit that,” You whine.
“If you get this embarrassed just hearing you’re cute, you’ll have a hard time later on.”
You blink up at him owlishly. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“I’m barely holding it together, you know?”
You look up at him.
“What do you wanna do to me?”
His eyes seem to dilate. “Don’t ask me that,”
“Tell me. I want to know,”
He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,”
“I don’t have to be fair with you,” You say petulantly. “Tell me,”
“I’ve spoiled you too much.” Caleb says, faux regret. “Even if you get scared, you can’t run away.”
“I won’t get scared,”
“Really?” Caleb hums. He moves to the side, his mouth next to your ear - voice barely audible. He puts his hands over yours as he towers over you. “You sound confident, but you know—I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. So badly that it scares me just thinking about it. Can you handle that?”
It’s a confession you think, as much as it’s dirty talk. He pulls back and you’re face to face again.
“I’m not scared of you. Even if you can’t control yourself I won’t be scared.” You tell him, headstrong as always.
His smile falters. “I don’t want to hurt you,”
“I know you like to call me a weakling but you know I’m not really made of my glass,” You stare at him, eyes tracing over his features. “It’ll be hard for you to break me in one go. Might’ve be fun,”
He tsks. “Don’t talk like that. I’d prefer to treasure you.”
You look at him for a long time quietly.
“I dreamt of you.”
“Hm?”
You feel your face flush, but for some strange reason - you have an urge to tell him. The words come easy. Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a reason to confess.
“Of you touching me,” Caleb’s eyes go wide. You smile a little. “Used to dream of you when you were, you know… but it wasn’t the way I dream of you now.”
“How do you dream of me now?” His voice is strained.
“They’re dirty dreams,” You say, fidgeting. “Sometimes I’m touching you and making you feel good. But most of the time, it’s you doing whatever you want to me.”
His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?”
“Mm,” You lock eyes. You can see it in him. It almost feels cruel, but you’re not saying it to tease him. “I had a wet dream about when you were interrogating me. You were being mean in that one. Really mean,”
“I already said sorry about that,”
“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,”
He swallows. “Oh,”
“Yeah, oh.” You slide your hand up his arms, squeezing the back of his biceps as he leans over you. Look up at him with mutual love. “I’ll only say it once so please listen carefully: I’m fine with anything if it’s you.”
It’s unexpected when Caleb tackles you to the bed. Not to kiss you, rather—but to hug you. You squeal as you both drop onto the mattress with your legs hanging off the edge. Caleb’s full weight crushes you, trapping you in his arms. You find yourself laughing a little, giggly as you feel him squeeze you tight enough to crush you.
“You’re squishing me, Caleb.”
He laughs breathlessly, rolling you both to the side. Pulling away with your face inches apart, he beams.
“Do you know that I’m crazy about you? Or do you say things like that not even knowing?”
“I don’t know,” You say, burying your face against his chest. “I just know you take good care of me. I want to take good care of you too,”
A spectrum of emotions pass through Caleb’s features at once at the admission. It’s the most vulnerability he’s ever shown you.
His body stiffens. He takes a deep breath before pulling away from you. You watch him innocently as he pushes himself up closer to the headboard. Rolling onto your stomach, you stare at him as he rolls onto his side.
“More comfortable this way, right?”
Consider without trying, your face warms. Caleb’s voice is whisper soft. “C’mere.”
You push yourself up until you’re closer to him, legs no longer hanging off the edge.
Within his reach, Caleb’s hand find your waist. He’s strong, you forget it all too easily—until he’s manhandling you to be in his grasp. Careful but demanding. Rolling on his back, he pulls you onto his lap until you’re straddling him.
The view proves too much for you both. His face is pink. A sheepish smile on his face.
“Regretting it?”
You shake your head quickly, careful not to rest your weight on his lap. He rests one of his hands on your thigh, closer to your knee and steals a glance at you.
Like this, you become aware of him for the first time. Consciously, as if he’s become a completely different person. All the things you’d never allow yourself to consider, slowly draw into focus. Like seeing him with a new set of eyes.
You notice every detail. Sparking arousal and curiosity, you put your hand on his chest and just stare. Unconsciously, your fingers reach for the dog-tag necklace you gifted him - straightening it. Metal warmed underneath your fingertips, you center it on his shirt. At the dip of his muscles where his chest is.
Fitted tank-top shows off enough to give you an idea of what’s underneath. Smooth, alabaster skin. Muscles bulking underneath the ribbed cotton - soft and supple from lack of tension, rising and falling with each breath. Your thumb smooths over the silly apple-shaped pendant, the raised letter of the dogtags. The brief skin to skin makes the air feel electric.
You do it unthinkingly, really. Following your instinct, you rest your hand on his chest before sliding them up closer to his neck. Defined clavicles, the long column of his throat and how it leads to the angled curve of his jaw. Eventually, your hand finds his face. His boyish features—handsome but youthful. Caleb leans into the touch. His usual, playful teasing nowhere to be found. It makes you jolt in surprise. His expression is painted by desire, a rosy flush to what's an otherwise perfect face.
His voice grows thick. An octave deeper than you’re used to. “Having fun?”
“Nn,” You shift under the weight of his gaze. “Sorry,”
“S’fine,” He says, pressing his cheek to your palm. “You can touch me however you want.”
Hearing it embarasses you. But your reply comes quickly. “You too,”
Caleb smiles shakily. His hand slides up your thigh. It’s slight, barely there. His hands are trembling.
“Can I kiss you?”
“We’ve kissed before,”
He shakes his head. “It won't be like before.”
“I don’t have any experience,”
Caleb laughs breathlessly. “I don’t care.”
You frown, but let yourself fall forward. Suddenly inches apart, your eyes widen. Caleb is staring at you this time. His eyes soaking in your expression, gaze falling onto your lips and staying there. They flicker back to yours for silent permission.
You meet his eyes completely assured. He swallows and cranes his neck, his hand coming up to your face to cradle it. His thumb traces your lips, inching himself closer and closer. You can hear his breath. Feel it on your face from how close you are.
Cupping your nape, he presses his lips to yours with unfathomable tenderness—undercut with the hottest flames of desires you’ve ever felt. It’s hard to describe it. All of the kisses you’ve ever had in your life have been Caleb’s, but this one really is different.
An unfamiliar desperation fills it despite being a gentle press of lips. He pulls away and you miss him. Try to chase it as he speaks against your mouth.
“Open your mouth, baby. Breathe through your nose,”
You listen to your older brother obediently, mouth parting as he leans in to kiss you again. Soft at first before pulling you down deeper into him by your. A moan escapes you subconsciously and you feel Caleb shiver. Eyes closed, you let him guide you through it. He controls the depth, the pace. You kiss deeply like that, holding each other before he pulls away again.
Every time you part, you feel a strange pang of sadness. Caleb never leaves you like that for too long
Your mind is hazy with desire as you fall into a pace with him. He breathes hard each time he pulls away from you, seems overwhelmed each time he kisses you again. Switching between deep kisses to chaste one, your lips throb from the overwhelming intensity of it. His mouth perfectly warm, lips soft and full. Wet as the kiss deepens but not unpleasantly. A tingly sensation that makes your skin prick.
You make a noise of surprise when Caleb slips his tongue against your mouth. But you don’t dislike it. Rather, out of curiosity, you copy him.
(A habit of your childhood—to copy your older brother and keep what you like from him as your own. )
Caleb inhales when you mirror him. Your eyes flicker open briefly to see his face, pleased by the draw of his eyebrows, before letting them close again.
There’s nothing intimidating about kissing Caleb. Every fear you harbor about how you should do it is washed away by the sheer force of your lust for one another. Like a gap of communication has finally been bridged—with your soft tongues sliding against each other, brushing against his palate, open mouth panting, subconsciously rocking your hips. Each second of doubt is brushed away by the overwhelming feeling of mutual, lovesick desire. It flows through your veins with more naturality than even your blood. Nothing more righteous, more sure.
You kiss like you’re telling him every secret you’ve ever kept—lips incapable of anything but honest confession. Holding onto each other in desperate, desperate necessity. A lifeline. A lifetime of holding it in, unraveling like the seconds couldn’t pass quickly enough to answer for it.
It feels like the beginning of devouring. You’ve never felt so hungry for something in your life. It gnaws at your conscious thoughts.
Desire simmers as you subconsciously settle your weight on Caleb’s lap, rocking your hips against the pleasant hardness meeting it. Not entirely sure of what it is your even touching. Caleb moans softly each time you do.
“Fuck,” Caleb pulls away finally. You whine and he laughs at you. Kisses you again, just once. “Shh, baby.”
“Nn, you don’t wanna kiss?” Your words come out slurred, even to your own ears.
“Not that I don’t want to, but you’re—” His laugh comes out higher, breathier. “Doing a little more than kissing,”
“Mm?”
He looks up at you. Amusement mixed with arousal. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?”
“Feels good,”
“You’re this weak to a little pleasure,” Caleb says. His hands are hot as they squeeze your hips. “Can’t you feel what you’re sitting on?”
The question sobers you. Caleb hold you steady to stop you before changing the pace. Uses his strength to hold your hips down as he grinds you over the full length of his…
“Oh,” You’re startled. You’re grinding against—
“You’ve been grinding against my dick like that without thinking about it at all. Isn’t that dangerous?”
A shiver wracks through you. Caleb’s voice is husky, low when he says. It’s crass and to the point—something you could never imagine hearing him say. But now that you have heard it, it makes it feel like your whole body is melting. Sticky arousal climbs through your limbs, leaves your mind muddled as you moan. Shivering, you fall forward in his arms. He closes them around your back, grinding his hard-on against your clothed cunt. The way it catches on your clit so indirectly feels so good you could cum from it.
His lips find your face, your jaw. His kisses affectionate. “Feels good, huh?”
“Mmm,” You press your face to his neck. “Caleb,”
“Do you want to cum like this? Or do you want me to make you feel even better?”
“Better?”
“Yeah,” Caleb says, a promise. “Better. Promise. Do you want that?”
You nod. “I want it,”
“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?”
You make an affirmative noise as Caleb flips you on your spine with ease. Surprised by his strength again, you gasp a little as he turns you over until he’s over you. He kisses you sweetly.
Your head feels full. Too heavy on your shoulders. You want to put your tongue in his mouth again and you don’t feel all the way there. Caleb looms over you.
“You’re beautiful,” Caleb says, breathless. Your eyes go wide. “Really fucking beautiful,”’
“That’s…”
“I think it all the time. Want to say it to you all the time, but I never wanna scare you.” Caleb hums, a hand on your thigh.
“Why would that scare me?”
Caleb chuckles like it’s obvious. “You get skittish easily, you know? When I act less like your brother and more like…”
You finish the sentence for him with a pout. “My boyfriend?”
He hums like just hearing it feels good, eyes lidded. “Yeah. Like your boyfriend.”
“Well that’s….”
“Do I make you nervous?”
His expression is playful. Makes your stomach flip. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt.
“So what if you do?”
“It’d make me happy,”
“You want me to be nervous? How mean,”
He leans into your space. You kiss again and feel disappointed when it’s over. Were you always so desperate?
“Don’t put words in my mouth. It just feels good to know you think of me that way, yeah?”
Something about it, about him like this makes your stomach tie in knots. You make a face, head tilted trying to tempt him into doing what you want. Caleb knows without you speaking a word, always does. Dips his head down to appease, lips firm and steady. Soft and full enough to make you melt. Your arms around his neck, a little breathless, mewling at the way it makes it feel like there’s electricity in your skin.
“You really like kissing, huh,” Caleb says. He pulls away again. Casts a brief glance your way before he peppers kisses all across your face. Draws his lips down your jawline, hot and wet as he noses against your skin. He finds your pulse and darts his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck.
You keen. It’s a sudden sound, sensitive. Your body shivers. Caleb makes an affirmative noise and does it again. Scrapes the same spot gently with teeth.
Another pitchy moan escapes your lips. Caleb breathes from his nose like laughter. Places more experimental bites and licks all along your neck. Your voice slips before you can catch it.
“Harder,”
He appeases you. Just like always. Feeling his teeth in your neck makes your mouth fall open and you moan his name like a small prayer.
His teeth leaves marks along your neck at your request, hands at your waist to hold you in place as you learn more about your body. You can feel your shorts dampen as he does it. It overwhelms you, makes you tremble with every light breath and every sordid bite. You don’t have any experience, have nothing tangible to compare it to except the things you did alone in your bedroom.
It doesn’t compare at all, though. No amount of relieving your sexual urges as a desperate teenager or fumbling against a stranger in a club even kind of helps your mind make sense of it. Caleb kissing and biting down your neck, his hands touching your skin—it’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt it. First time you’ve known touch like this.
First time your mind has been rendered so useless to think.
He rests his mouth as his hands slide up your sides. You gasp slightly as they go underneath your shirt but you don’t make any move to stop it. Further and further they go until the reach for your back. Searching for something.
“You’re not wearing a bra,” He whispers..
“I don’t at home,”
He lets out a breath like the winds have been knocked out of him. “Right,”
“Are you into that?” You ask before you can stop yourself, surprised by the sound of your own voice. Caleb just laughs like he’s in disbelief.
“Take a guess,”
“I just don’t get it,”
Caleb doesn’t say anything to that. But his hands maneuver. Stopped just underneath the swell of your tits, his eyes look up at yours and ask for silent permission. His shoulders sag with relief when he receives it.
The way your chest fits in Caleb’s hands makes your breath hitch. Squeezing the fat of them, relishing how they feel between his palms. He’s quick after that, pulling your shirt up until it’s gathered underneath your neck. There’s an impatience to it that surprises you, something uncharacteristically lacking composure as he halfway undresses you.
His eyes linger like that for a long time. So long it makes your face burn.
“Stop staring,”
“...I don’t know if I can.”
There’s something like awe in his gaze. Your spine tingles, goosebumps appearing on his skin. The way his hands hold onto your waist. He presses his cheek just below your sternum with an loving sigh, kissing it as he picks his head back up. It’s sweet to the point it almost nauseates you. It might if it were anyone other than Caleb.
His thumbs draw over your nipples, hardened from arousal. Your chest rises and falls in anticipation, in ache. Thighs squeezing together in a silent admittance. His touch is experimental, careful in observing what elicits the most reaction out of you.
Chest tender, takes one of your nipples into his mouth without warning. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you feel him smile against your chest.
The air shifts again. Hotter, heavier—there’s a sudden carnality to the way he’s touching you. Mouth latched onto your nipples tenderly, grazing them lightly with the blunt end of his incisors like he can guess everything you like. His mouth on your chest is overwhelming. It baffles you that something can feel that good. Each time you think you can’t be surprised any more, Caleb makes good on making you feel better and you’re forced to eat your words.
Between your legs is throbbing hard. Whatever Caleb can’t fit in his mouth, he teases with the rough pads of his fingers - brushing and squeezing and twisting. Alternating as to make sure nothing goes neglected. Your hips cant against air, frustrated by lack of friction. Caleb is relentless, but does not make any move to sate your growing desires.
“Caleb,”
His eyes are washed over as he looks up. A look on his face you don’t know, have never seen until now. His voice is low in the back of his throat, strong hands cupping your chest and squeezing.
“‘Mm?”
A sibling bond like this, you think, is to blame for understanding so quickly what Caleb wants. Something you know innately, deep in your subconscious that makes your cheeks grow hot. A hot, prickly feeling goes down your back and all your clothes suddenly feel restrictive. He sits and remains steadfast, but you can sense it too.
It feels good but something is missing. Something is off.
Despite his restless desire, he’s taunting you. Goading you. You groan and Caleb laughs.
“Don’t—Caleb. Please,”
“Did you want something?”
Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering.
“You promised you were gonna make it feel better,” You say, so petulant and childish to your own ears you wince.
Somewhat predictably, this works on Caleb right away. Overwhelming lust tucked carefully behind a thoughtful smile. “I did, huh?”
“Don’t be a jerk,” You reply. He laughs but not for long.
He has something flash on his face at your reply. You just kind of know. “Sorry, sorry,”
“Stop holding back.”
He looks surprised. “I’m not—”
You nudge him with your knee. “You are. You think I don’t know you? Didn’t you say you wanted me to see you differently? Stop acting like a cool older brother. It’s annoying,”
His expression is one of awe and amusement. It’s not quite that he’s irritated, but you can sense that you just barely get under his skin with the implication.
“Weren’t you the one who was crying about not wanting anything to change? Now you’re chiding me? You were acting so spoiled just a minute ago to get your way and now you’re saying you don’t want me acting like your big brother, hm?”
Your eyes widen at the change in character. It still feels like Caleb, but it’s so intense. Too sincere to be completely playful. A strange mix of lust, nerves and fear wash over you. “Just—”
He pushes himself back up to hover over you, swift as a hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze up. Pure arousal shoots through your veins, almost unwittingly, as you catch sight of Caleb’s gaze. An vengeful quality to it.
“Meimei,” He says, and your breath hitches. Your head is clouded with the immoral lust of hearing it this way. “Your older brother didn’t teach you how to lie, right? If you want something, say it with your mouth. Say it clearly,”
A flush crawls onto your face, eyes darting away. Caleb allows you this much mercy. To let you look away feels kind.
It’s an uncomfortable sort of feeling. To acknowledge what desire, what reaction you’re seeking. It’s unfair, and childish - since Caleb has done nothing but love you from the very moment you met him. Kind, gentle, considerate—you love him so deeply that it hurts to breathe just thinking about all you’ve experienced.
Something about what you’re asking of him is ugly. Born of selfishness, the desire to have all of him, too.
“Ugh, just—stop saying you want me and show me,” You say, full of distress.
You see it in his eyes when something clicks.
And then, with a sudden force, he kisses you. It’s rougher than the ones previous, deeper, greedier. What you want. You moan into his mouth as Caleb licks at your lips, pulling away to kiss your cheek. Sweet as always.
“Don’t regret it,”
The change is immediate. In a way, he’s still just answering to your desires - but you don’t dislike this part of him. Your heart rate kicks up as Caleb strips you of your shirt completely before settling himself back down to where he started.
From just beneath your breasts, all the way down the place of your belly and navel - Caleb places hot, wet kisses to your skin. No longer languid but hurried, long fingers curling into the very edge of your waistband as he drops down further and further before settling between your thighs. He glances up at you when he begins to pull down your shorts but doesn’t ask you for permission and it makes you feel a strange thrill when he doesn’t.
Caleb tugs your shorts off and helps you wriggle out of them in one go - an audible groan escaping his mouth. Plain, tattered cotton panties hug your hips as you lay with your legs up. He nudges your thighs open as you place your feet flat on the bed. With your legs spread, your clothed cunt is readily visible.
He lets out a soft breath. When you look down, your eyes meeting—there’s something almost animalistic to him. A completely and utterly ruined expression, blush dusting across his nose and cheekbones.
“I want to make you feel as good as you can, okay?” Caleb says breathlessly.
He brings his mouth to your inner thigh, closer to your knee and places a sweet kiss on the skin. Both of his hands are gripping hard onto your hips, as he breathes in the scent over and over. It sets your body alight to see it in glimpses. His brow is furrowed as he sucks and bites sloppy hickies into the soft fat of your thighs - working his way up slowly. When he finds you properly marked on one leg, he repeats it on the other.
You can feel the ache of fresh bruises. A sensation that coaxes a completely new wave of arousal straight from the deepest depths of your body. An impossible wetness soaking the paper-thin cotton, sliding down the curve of your ass from how keyed up the touch makes you.
It’s less that he’s satisfied in his markings with you, more that his desire for you grows too heavy. Caleb stares at your pussy with eyes of pure, unmistakable reverence.
You have never been able to picture another human being looking at you the way he does.
So much ardor. So much bone-deep, blood-red voracity in a single gaze. The shakiness of his breathing, the harsh grip of his hands, that unsteady look in his eyes as his nose and mouth hover over the soaked panties over your pussy. As if you can see the words repeating in his mind: want, want, want. Nothing more certain.
Your whole body wracks with a shiver. You whimper with your hands fisted at your sides in anticipation.
A startled gasp escapes you as Caleb doesn’t do anything but press his nose firm to your pussy and breathe. Deep and unrepentant like he’s trying to memorize the scent of you, use it to track you like a bloodhound. Embarrassed warmth floods your system and you squirm in protest of his actions.
But you’re trapped there. Completely and utterly, rendered helpless by his gri. His eyes flicker up unfocused but quickly go back to being closed. It’s all the communication you need to know he intends to do exactly as you’ve begged him to do. To expose the extent of his unsavory appetite. Inhaling the scent of sweat and skin, of a day of lounging and leaving your pussy completely confined.
He looks so madly-in-love in the moment you find it hard to breathe even a word of protest. Your clit throbs unhelpfully in response.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Caleb finally, finally drags his tongue over the seam of your panties. He doesn’t pull them off—instead sucking the wetness from the material. Puffy clit helplessly pulled into the force of it while trapped under your panties, you buck your hip up against his tongue. Caleb obliges you. He points the tip of his tongue and slides it over the small bud through the cotton - completely stiffened from arousal. You shake at the touch, the wet promise of pleasure. How the drenched fabric of your panties gives the most gratifying, mind-numbing friction. You moan loud. You can’t help the sound that leaves you when he licks your pussy.
You’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt this way, but you’re under the impression that most people will never know a pleasure like this in their life.
When your underwear is completely saturated with spit - only then does Caleb let off from you. Without a single word of warning, he tugs away the material. Exposing your pussy, bare and throbbing - he blows warm air onto your clit and watches as you squirm.
Another beat of admiring before his mouth latches onto your pussy again. Panties tugged away haphazardly, his tongue sliding from wet hole all through the seam, the soft folds of your pussy - settling at your clit. He licks experimentally, wading through your moans. When his tongue tastes your clit just the right way, you practically scream.
With newfound dedication, he commits to worshipping your pussy with his mouth.
It’s humiliating. Purely euphoric and undeniably stimulating, boneless as Caleb’s tongue laps desperately at your clit. His eyes shut, completely blissful - brows furrowed and moaning into you. He eats you out like it’s what he’s wanted to do his entire life and this is the last opportunity he’ll have to make good on his dreams.
The corrupted thought lights fire under your body anew. To think of Caleb lusting for you when he shouldn’t be. Like a forbidden fruit, ripe and sweet and nearly his—nearly within his grasp but always just barely slipping between his fingers. Your kind, sweet, considerate older brother thinking of ruining your mind and body. The idea he’d been torturing himself over it makes you sad but more than that it incites impossible longing. You want him to want you even more than he does now.
You can feel your body ache for it for the first time. Like a reply to his feelings, you think of how good it will feel when Caleb finally fucks you. Takes you, plucks you from vine and claims you all for himself.
But the act of him tasting you like this is more than good. The tender bundle of nerves is throbbing hard against the wet flick of his tongue - hips rutting to meet the perfect motion of his mouth. Something in your belly warms. Sweetens your senses and melts you from the inside like crystalized honey coming to liquid sugar over a flame. Your mind has melted away so utterly you can’t do anything but reach your fingers through his hair and chant his name.
“Caleb,” Your voice is unfamiliar to you. Worked up beyond any rational understanding.. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.”
Closer and closer, Caleb remains completely persistent in his efforts. Licks your clit and laps up all the arousal that spills - silky fluid like ambrosia to the unending heat of his mouth.
The knot tangled inside of your body unravels with an alarming speed. Makes your eyes go wide before you shut them again hard, your spine arching off the bed - every muscle in your body going unbearably tense as Caleb’s tongue toys with your clit. The filthy sound of licking making your ears ring.
Your body goes taut. It feels like a calamity. A pure rapture, like God himself is bringing pleasure. The kind that can only be derived from being your maker. Caleb has that in common with him, you think.
Your voice rings loud, hands fisted in his hair. You’re cumming hard, and fast, and there’s white behind your eye-lids. Smatterings of bright stars as you press them shut.
You cum so hard you can’t breathe. For a brief moment you’re weightless before it all comes crashing down in one swift go. Caleb eats you out through it relentlessly and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name - asking for mercy and receiving none. It feels so good it terrifies you. Your body is trembling, cunt spasming around his tongue as Caleb continues his assault.
You feel something wet rush out of you but Caleb is undeterred. He drinks it all down, every last drop until he’s satiated at least some of his endless, terrifying thirst.
When he pulls away from your pussy, his mouth is soaked in saliva and your cum. He looked the most satisfied you’ve ever seen him in your life. You’ve never been so scared of someone while being so unbearably aroused in the same breath.
“You taste so fucking good. Better than I dreamed in my entire life. Need to taste it again. I almost don’t want to do anything else.” He laughs breathlessly. “Almost.”
“Caleb,” You whimper. completely helpless as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, ‘m still cumming,”
“Gonna make you cum over and over and over.” Caleb says cheery. “Promise,”
After cumming the first time, your body's sensitivity increases tenfold. Where you think it’ll cool off the glaring heat, melting you down to your core - all it does is turn it higher, make the feeling more tangible. Caleb’s offer to make you cum again excites you more than it scares you. You stare at him when he comes up for air.
“Kiss?”
“Even after all that?”
You nod sheepishly.
“Jeez. How cute can someone be?”
He comes up for a kiss, surprised when you lick into his mouth. You like tasting yourself on him, tongue dipping in for more. Caleb smiles at your enthusiasm, eyes lidded when he pulls away.
“Open your mouth,”
You give him a blank stare but do as he says. He puts a hand on your throat, tipping your head back before you feel something warm hit your tongue. Your eyes meet Caleb’s in surprise, instinctively swallowing the spit as it slides down your throat. Caleb meets you with an eager kiss, a gentle affection in his voice. “Good girl.”
Something washes over you hearing the praise. A soft moan into his mouth that leaves Caleb with raised brows. “You like hearin’ you’re my good girl, huh?”
Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,”
“Still so bad at lying, pipsqueak. Some things never change,”
The affection in his voice makes you forgive him. You know the tone, the sound—the lilting coo of your older brother's voice when he’s teasing you. It’s a way of speaking you could recognize in a heartbeat, the kind of voice that you’re anxious without. It shouldn’t soothe you in this context, shouldn’t make your pussy feel so achy when you know exactly how he’s addressing you.
Caleb kisses down the length of your body again. Neck to navel until he settles down between your thighs. You can’t mask your surprise. Caleb looks up at you from between your legs.
“What? You thought one time would be enough for me?”
Truthfully, yes. You’re a little startled at the thought he’s going to do it again. Make you feel all of that again. An anticipatory shiver makes you squirm but Caleb holds you in place. He presses another kiss to your clit. “One time doesn’t even come close to being enough.”
True to his word, Caleb starts the process all over again.
The second time around, he doesn’t let himself up to breathe. You’re locked in place as his increased familiarity with your body has him driving you over the edge even faster. Firm grip on your thighs, face buried between your legs - he laps at your clit for what feels like an endless amount of time. The pleasant warmth of his mouth paired with the focused, precise licks on your sweet spot make your body wrack with an impossible pleasure. It’s gentle enough to not be completely overstimluating - but his endurance, his persistence in doing it makes your experience a new high. A trembling mess of limbs and quiet, desperate pleas. Too much, too fast - toes curled as he hoists your legs over his shoulders to give him full access. Clit pulsating, stiff under his tongue with his nose bumping occasionally.
It feels so good you’re almost content to let him stay there. Let your mind wash away and succumb to the gluttony tying you to the bed. You cum twice again from the pressure - your body experiencing each one longer. Unable to withstand it, your hands clenched tight trying to level yourself with the feeling. A pleasure you’ve never experienced, the kind you doubt you’d be able to feel with someone else.
Caleb has always been like this in that respect. Your older brother who set the standard for every other man you ever came across. You were always using him as the gold standard, comparing every man you’ve ever met to him. Especially ones who claimed to like you. What would your brother do, how would he act, how would he treat you. He’d never tell you if you were too much. Never call you spoiled even when you act it, embody it so why settle for less? Why want for something else? For someone else?
It’s not surprising that Caleb touches you with the same level of care he’s always given you. Even less surprising that your body longs for it so desperately.
Caleb is your big brother after all. He takes care of you like this. No one else gets to have it. It makes you entitled, moody, and emotional just to think of him acting this way with someone who isn’t you.
Yearning and deep affection well up inside of you as these things cross your mind. Whisper to your longing as a deep, endless need overwhelms your mind. Your third orgasm steals the breath out of your lungs. A shockwave of emotions washes over you, as you tug at his hair. You let out a throaty whine.
“Caleb,” You whimper, pulling him off. “Caleb,”
Attuned to your emotions, Caleb is quick to pull away when he hears the audible distress. He pulls away from you, worried. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Did you want to stop?”
You shake your head rapidly. Caleb gives you a small smile. “Just being a crybaby, then?”
The truth is, yes, just a little. You can’t voice this to Caleb so you instead give him some unknowable, unreadable look. He reads it almost instantly, shifting himself to hug you tight. Without any words at all, like he knows every single thought that passes through your mind. You wrap your arms around him and nudge your nose against his neck. He smells familiar.
“This what you wanted?”
You nod against him. Caleb’s heartbeat is steady in a way that brings you bone deep comfort.
“Be more pampered with me. More selfish, more demanding, more spoiled. Gege will do anything for you, so don’t hesitate.”
Hearing him refer to himself that way makes your stomach flip. You nuzzle yourself deeper into him, aroused by the sound of his laughter - playful but smug. You speak against his chest, words muffled.
“Want it inside right now,”
His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?”
Another nod. You pull away to look him in the eyes when you ask. You know how to beg Caleb for something. You’ve been doing it your whole life, and right now is the most sincere you’ve ever been. Doe-eyed and full lips, all covetous and coy the word falls from your mouth with ease.
“Please,”
It has the exact impact on him you want it to have. Groaning, the outline of his cock twitching with a shameful lust, almost blanking out at the thought. He scrubs a hand over his face.
“You’re gonna kill me,”
“Please,” You repeat. Caleb kisses you as if to stop you from saying it again.
“I have to stretch you out on my fingers. It’ll hurt otherwise,” You open your mouth but Caleb cuts you off. “Don’t say it’s fine.”
“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically.
“Be a good girl,” He placates, and it works on you just as maddeningly as your begging does on him. “Hm? For me?”
You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,”
He coos at you lovingly and you make no effort to deflect. You can’t. Your usual fire and wit, your banter is dissipated. Brain thoroughly undone from so many orgasms and the deep, aching want in your cunt - so apparent it makes you want to sob. A desperation to be full that you didn’t fathom existing in such a bodily way, something you thought only existed in porn.
Sensing how strung out you are, Caleb changes positions again. Instead of laying between your legs, he curls up besides you. He turns on his side, sliding an arm underneath and hugs your body close to him. Like he’s cradling you. Your legs slot together, one of yours between both of his - your other leg on the outside. Caleb hikes your thigh up - high enough to have your legs spread. The arm not supporting your back is supporting you, his forearm underneath your thigh.
At this angle, you’re face to face. Caleb can see you clearly as he cradles you in his arms. A large hand squeezes your ass before reaching around - teasing your clit with long fingers.
You feel…small like this. It’s the way you’re being held. The feeling of Caleb’s arm under your back, sliding up to hold your neck.
His fingers are exceptionally long. Slender and thin, with thick veins from wrist to pinky, more appearing less visibly to the rest. His palms are big- making up the bulk of their size. You feel yourself fixating on them in their movements.
On the calluses on them from handling guns, to the few thin scars from your childhood that have remained on his body into adulthood - now scarred. The way his fingers caress you, stroke your clit slowly. He kisses you again with a silent question like: you like this, right?
The eagerness of your tongue into his mouth answers it for him, a puppy keen on greeting it’s owner. Caleb laughs sweet into your mouth, encouraging you with all the kindness he has in him. His fingers slides through your slick folds impressed until he reaches low enough to be at your hole.
You’ve put your own fingers in there before. You think you can handle someone elses.
You find out fast that you can’t.
Caleb’s fingers are long. They’re thicker than yours, and longer than yours - and just the first one gives you a stretch you're not expecting. You shudder, a noisy breath. It’s an intrusion, a noticeable one. Caleb is careful, though. It’s easy for him to push the digit it when you’re so wet inside. A soft squelching noise makes your skin burn hot but Caleb goes on undisturbed.
His finger reaches deep. He fucks it in so slowly and so carefully but it feels like it never ends. All the down to the knuckle with just the one, you find yourself shuddering. Caleb is quiet, but you can hear the labor in his breaths. Feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh and twitch.
You moan his name instinctually - not for any particular reason and he says nothing. Just thrusts his finger in and out. How can something feel so different on the basis it’s someone else? You can’t hold still, rocking your hips against the sensation. Caleb groans unabashed.
“You want it so bad, huh?” He says, half-delirious and so pleasantly smug. You nod immediately.
“A little more. Hang in there, okay?”
Okay, you think. You’d do whatever it takes in the moment for Caleb to fuck you more quickly so you bite in the side of your cheek and try not beg stupidly each time he repeats the process. Another finger, longer than the last - stretching out, reaching deeper than anything has ever gone in your life, thrusting until your pussy takes it. It surprises you to know just how much you can take when you take three and you really feel it. How soft it is inside.
“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely.
Caleb doesn’t heed your request. Another finger goes in. It takes four for him to finally feel like it’s enough. Four fingers stroking from the inside out, an almost brutal precision curling against your g-spot. Not enough to cum, just enough to get so wet he can’t pull his fingers out without the filthiest noise you’ve ever had to follow it.
Completely out of your mind, you grab onto him weakly. Every ounce of shame and sense gone.
“Caleb,” Your voice is a pant. “Fuck me. Please, please—just do it,”
His own voice is no better than yours. “Gotta grab a condom from my—”
Your voice is vicious. Like you’re lashing out at him. “No. Fuck me.”
Caleb is quieted by it. Unsure of how to react. “Don’t be like that, baby.”
A reprimand. Soft as ever. Tears well up in your eyes immediately. “Please hurry,”
“We have to use a condom next time, okay?”
You hear nothing that comes out of his mouth except the words next time, and nod.
He gives in. You’re thankful he always does. You’re at your wits end and you don’t know if your body can handle any more waiting. Not getting what you want with Caleb unsettles and upsets you. Especially this strung out.
Caleb rolls onto your back again after he pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, unwittingly falling onto your back with both legs open. Presenting yourself in some impossibly obedient way that you can’t catch quick enough to stop, knees bent and up in the air. Waiting impatiently for Caleb to follow.
He follows suit moments later. His hand resting on your knees to spread your legs for him, taking in an eyeful of you as he stands on his own.
At the angle you’re laying and with nothing to distract your senses - you can see Caleb in full shape. Your body responds in kind for you, throbbing between your legs as you cut his figure. Tall and strong and broad, visible muscles and deltas. There are veins above the lowcut of his waistband, thick and tempting. A little lower than that - a patch of dark hair that leads to…
Your throat feels dry seeing Caleb’s cock standing to attention, just underneath his sweatpants. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to make sense of it. How it strains, a wet patch where it ends. Your breathing slows significantly. Your mouth watering, mind fizzling like a bottle of champagne. The ache in you urges deeper, hand going between your legs to soothe it. Or maybe welcome what's coming.
Caleb is breathless. Amusement undercut by lasciviousness. “Enjoying the view?”
You nod stupidly. Caleb grins a little. Makes a show of hooking his thumb into the top of his sweats and tugging all the way down. A thick trail of hair and the smooth, uncut outline of his cock has you gasping. When he tugs his pants all the way pas his thigh, you feel completely speechless.
He’s huge. Utterly. Too heavy to stand on its own, uncut, veiny. You blink in disbelief, like everything in the room has paused. It’s burly. Ridiculous. Thick enough to look like someone’s forearm. Pearls of pre-cum dribble of out of the tip, pulled back to be revealed. A ruddy reddish brown and angry. It’s darker then the rest, throbbing in a way that looks almost painful. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but that was on accident in a bath before it was—
You stop your train of thought and just stare for an unknown amount of time.
He looks sheepish. The tips of his ears crimson red, all the way down to his chest. You make an unintelligible noise at the sudden change in attitude and also at everything else.
A sensible person would feel fear. Not your strong suit. You don’t know if it’s bravery or lust that inspires the reaction in your body. You just know you want him to fuck you so bad you might jump on him to get it.
“We don’t have to get in today, princess. We’ve got time to—”
“If you try to deter me one more time I’m going to run away from home,”
Caleb closes his mouth. He just mumbles something, but obliges you right after.
In what can only be considered a miracle, Caleb finally settles between your legs. His hands are on top of your thighs as he taps his tip against your clit, rubbing the pre-cum into the mess, The feeling of skin on skin elicits a gasp out of you both. His voice is shaky.
“Might not last,” He says hoarsely
“S’fine.” You put a hand between your legs and spread your pussy open for him a little wider. A move from porn that works on him instantly. He swears hard under his breath, not giving himself a chance to indulge in the feeling long.
Tip nudging through slick folds—Caleb finally, finally slides in.
Another synchronised moan, sweat breaks out onto your skin as you feel the thick tip of Caleb’s cock finally come through. You feel full. It’s completely different from four fingers, more invasive on your body than ever. .
It elicits a chain reaction. You watch Caleb above you, death grip on your hips trying to keep his composure and not fuck a hole through you. A horrible part of you almost wants him too, even knowing you absolutely wouldn’t be able to take it.
You’re trembling. It feels ridiculous but you’re so worked up that -
“Gonna c-cum,”
Caleb’s eyes blow wide. “From—fuck. That ain’t fair, you can’t,”
You buck your hips up and groan. He’s stretching you out so fucking good. One more time and it’ll hit that spot and it’ll feel so perfect, so right. You need it. Caleb shakes over you.
“Mercy,” He says, not sober enough to laugh. You’re going to lose your mind soon. Maybe you already have.
“I-s it all in?”
“Half,” Caleb grunts. You moan at the thought.
“Fuck me. Shit, please,” Your voice breaks high on the last syllable. Caleb looks like he wants to protest, wants to tell you to take it slow. But you can see it in his face that he’s reached his limits. Or maybe he reached them a long time ago and he’s already far gone.
But he listens. Your jaw goes slack and he pushes in. Inch by tortuous inch until you feel him bottom out. Feel his hips on the back of your thighs. His cock is throbbing inside of you, silken walls clinging onto the shape like you’re being pried open. It doesn’t take anything. He shifts as he bottoms out and your voice comes out in garbled, unintelligible noise.
“O-oh, ‘m cumming, cumming, ngh,” Your back arches up that leaves your mind blank. Completely white out, nothing but static as you cum again. Cum around the hard, intrusive length of your older brothers cock - bullying into your cervix until it’s wet and pliable and fuckable for him. Stretching out like it’s his to shape and mould. You can feel it in your body, each vein and each curve. Caleb lets out a whistle. Sharp and so fucking dark, it exicites you helplessly.
“She’s clingy just like you,” He says, fond but sneering.
Your head spins when it dawns on you on what he’s saying.
“Caleb—”
“I feel conflicted. Are you naturally this gifted?” He laughs, folding over you. Overtaken by something. Bending you under his weight. “Or is it because it’s mine that you’re making it so easy?”
“I was worried, you know,” He pulls out. The disappointment and gaping emptiness are brief. You hear the way your body refuses him pulling out. “Worried about how such a tight hole would fit something so big. Worried about your body, but you’re taking me in so fucking well. So perfect,”
You’re panting. It feels so good. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, limp under the weight of it as Caleb gives you a slow few thrusts to get you used to the size. But you’re so stretched and sensitive it just feels fucking incredible from the jump.
“Be a good girl and let me in.” You clench down on him. He grins to himself. “That’s it,”
He bottoms out again. Slams hips and fucks you in one swift, unforgiving motion. Groaning, he puts his hands up under your knees, driving his dick into you with animalistic need.
“Your pussy feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m never gonna be able to think about anything else. It’s not like I was before but you’re-” Out, back in. You haven’t made a single coherent sound. “You’re just too good. It’s warm and wet and still so tight, how are you still so tight, huh? It’s like you don’t want me to leave.”
For a brief moment, the two of you make eye contact. The vivid color of his eyes burns bright, pins you underneath the weight of his gaze. It goes straight to your stomach, making it flip in one smooth go.
“Tell me it’s okay,” Caleb says, barely restraining himself.
You look up at him confused. He suddenly looks like he’s at his wits end.
“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,”
Like a woman possessed, you reach your arms around to squeeze his back and biceps. You put your mouth close to his ear as you bring him down towards you.
“Gege,” He twitches inside of you. “Fuck me as hard as you can,”
You underestimate just what effect it’ll have on you. On him. As quick as he possibly can, he pushes his hands under your knees and folds you into a mating press so deep it makes you scream. He’s pistoning you instantly, pounding into your pussy like he owns. Your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders without realizing.
“I love you,” are the only words that come out of his mouth. It has you clenching down even harder. “Gege loves you more than anyone else in the world, okay? More than anyone.”
Just like that, Caleb fucks you. Given up on being gentle but still trying to make you feel good, trying to touch somewhere no one ever will again - he folds you up under the weight of his body and fucks you with relentless stamina. Your mind is gone. His cock is fat and heavy inside of you, splits your pussy open as the tip knocks against your g-spot with each thrust. His balls smack against your ass on each go.
It’s too much. For your brain, for your body, for your insides - getting permanently rearranged like he’s crushing your womb. A feeling like it should be painful, but it isn’t because he’s got you so good and open. This a reward for you both. For his patience. Every thought wrung from your head, impressed by your body’s own avarice for cock. Addicted to the feeling of getting strethed, gaped completely open. It feels like you’re cumming without a clear end.
Wanting Caleb to cum inside of you is a distant thought. Pleasant like a lullaby as your body yearns for it. Another sharp orgasm builds. It builds and builds and builds - and you know’re going to be fucked through it again.
But this time Caleb is close. Right alongside you. Sweating and panting in your ear as he pounds into your frenzied.
His voice comes out like a whine and it turns you on even more. You say it before he can think of pulling out, tightening your legs around his waist.
“Cum in me,”
Caleb grinds himself deeper. “Gonna cum in you, baby. I love you, I love you—fuck!”
Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out.
Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot.
“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?”
You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give.
He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him
You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection.
“I love you too, Gege.”
He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,”
__
You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out.
You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier.
Also a little embarrassed.
You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning.
You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.
Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen.
Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.
You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new.
“G’morning,”
Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout.
“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?”
You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.”
“That’s good, then,”
You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away.
“Caleb?”
“Hm?”
Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?”
He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this?
Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.”
You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,”
Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed.
Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away.
“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you.
You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t.
You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love.
“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,”

#caleb x reader#love and deepspace x reader#caleb smut#love and deepspace smut#lads x reader#lads smut#writing tag#psuedocest cw#incest cw#this is super vanilla. but of course there is incest sdkjfsd
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new chapter of raconte-moi after several metric years! in which isabeau reminds everyone about the importance of timing, gets some startling news, and thinks about the future. mind all cws and spoilers, as always!
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giving myself a headache crying while editing this so other ppl better at least tear up reading it or i'm gonna be real disappointed in getting this affected gkjghkjghs
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this poem is about being nonbinary.
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Image Description: Screen capture of a reply that reads, “Out of curiosity, what's wrong with writing out the accent? I have a character with a thick Scottish accent and I write it out”
oh by the way if you make medic’s dialogue in your fic “thiz bullshit vith za accent written out” i’m gonna kill you
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Re-sharing this post I found on Twitter for people looking for alternatives to NaNo. I haven't tried any of these sites but they might be worth looking into.
#nanowrimo#national novel writing month#writeblr#don't know what else to tag this as lol#text post#writing reference#writing tag
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thinking about all the “small” art that’s ever existed. songs that were only ever sung in one village. stories written by children that got lost in the shuffle. personal paintings that didn’t survive the test of time. how they affected the lives of just a few, but still existed, still mattered to someone.
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it has been years and this still remains the most meaningful advice i have ever read. every time i'm editing my own writing and getting really fed up with it, i stop bashing my face in and just think about this. "You hate the most valuable thing about your art." my writing is supposed to read like i wrote it! because i did! i should be happy to have my own voice and style! ugh thank you forever to this tweet fr
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Questions to ask beta readers
General:
Were you confused at any point of the story?
What genre would you say this book is?
When did you put the story down?
Is the ending satisfying?
If you had to cut 3 scenes what would they be?
When did you feel like the story really began?
What was the last book you read before this story?
Characters:
Do you get any of the characters names confused?
Which character is your favorite?
If you had to remove a character who would you and why? (you don't have to remove the character, just make sure their role is meaningful)
Which character do you relate to the most?
Which character do you relate to the least?
Do the characters feel real?
Are character relationships believable?
Are the goals clear and influence the plot?
Are the characters distinct (voice, motivations, etc)
Setting:
Which setting was clearest to you?
Which setting was the most memorable?
Am including enough/too much detail?
Plot and conflict:
Are the internal and external conflicts well defined for the main characters?
Are the internal conflicts and the external conflicts organic and believable?
Are there enough stakes?
Are the plot twists believable but still unexpected?
#writing blog#creative writing#young writer#writerslife#writers#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writblr#writing advice#am writing#writing tings#writing tips#writing tag#writing things#writing tropes#writing thoughts#writing help#writing resources#how to write#writing tools#beta reader#beta readers#editing#beta reading#fiction writing#writer stuff#book writing#story writing#fanfiction writer#writers and poets
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mouthwashing is a game about mediocre people in a bad situation. mouthwashing is a game about the horror of the reality of people choosing their friends even when those friends actively hurt people in unacceptable ways. mouthwashing is a game about being stranded in space and leading people while being someone who can't handle the pressures of leading the way he thought he could. mouthwashing is about envy and greed and lying and selfishness and people forcing their way to the top. mouthwashing is about how the lack of security for vulnerable people leads to their inevitable harm by people in positions of power 100% of the time, whether it be now or down the line. mouthwashing is a game about hating the people you love, and loving the people you hate. mouthwashing is about how sometimes you can spend your entire life working towards one thing, and when you finally get it you realize you don't even want it. mouthwashing is about avoiding the real issue so that you can present a solution that won't work in the long run to try and keep everybody happy instead of keeping everybody safe. mouthwashing is about the horrors women face in the workforce, ones that are real and tangible and happening every single day, whether you want to believe it or not. mouthwashing is about keeping your head up and a smile on your face until the moment you can't do it anymore. mouthwashing is about locking yourself in a room because you realized that you can't do it anymore. mouthwashing is about being old enough and wise enough and angry enough to know that you can't do it anymore. mouthwashing is about deluding yourself and deluding your friends and faking responsibility to avoid the fact that you can't do it anymore. mouthwashing is about taking responsibility. mouthwashing is about fixing it. mouthwashing is about hoping it hurts. but more than anything, at the core of it all... mouthwashing is about killing 99.9% of bacteria instantly; go and buy dragonbreath mouthwash today!
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HELP ME FIND A WAY TO BREATHE | M. FUSHIGURO
♡ tags ; afab + fem!reader, aged-up characters (20s), mutual pining, friends to lovers, canon-typical violence, canon divergent, sex pollen, dubious consent (they are both very enthusiastic to fuck but it is still sex pollen), brief one bed trope lol, light femdom, praise kink, penetration, unprotected sex / creampies, making out, not beta'd we die like [REDACTED MANGA SPOILERS] 18+
♡ wc ; 14.1k (???)
♡ a/n ; hello! happy june, and welcome to my first of three installments part of my @ficsforgaza intiative. please go check them out and join us in fundraising for the people of palestine.
no other really notes on this one other than it's egregiously horny and even more sappy. a super lovey-dovey pining fic. title from sleep walking by bmth
♡ synopsis ; megumi has loved you for as long as he's known you and then some - which is why he avoids going on overnight missions with you at all cost. he's going to kill gojo-sensei when he gets back.

“You should be more firm with Gojo-sensei about stuff like this,” Megumi leans back, eye twitching as he voices his complaints. “You know he always puts it on you because you won’t say no.”
You’re sitting next to Megumi reclined in your seat. He doesn’t even have to turn his head to know what face you’re making - a forgiving smile, your eyes crinkled at the corner as you shrug unbothered.
“It’s fine with me,” You turn your head to look at him a little better, pulling your eyes way from the window. “Just how it goes sometimes, you know? Plus, Sensei was nice enough to upgrade us and sending us on these expensive seats. When else are you gonna ride in one of these?”
Your smile reaches your eyes, light filtering through the windows in quick motion bursts as you speed along the rails. Megumi knew that’s what you were going to say. He shakes his head.
“Don’t make excuses for him,”
“Don’t be so prickly,” You reprimand, a long sigh leaving your lips. You reach across the armrest and pat Megumi’s shoulder “If we finish up early, we should go sight-seeing. There’s lots of temples in Sendai I’ve never seen before.”
Megumi doesn’t say anything to that. You haven’t moved your hand from his shoulder either. The touch is subconscious and friendly - and makes Megumi want to light himself on fire. He’s almost sure this is one of Gojo’s famous schemes, since there’s little to no reason he couldn’t handle a request like this one by himself. Or at least, Megumi could’ve gone alone and prevented himself from being alone with you on a trip for several consecutive days.
(He’s got a special talent for avoiding this exact thing - always planning ahead and switching things around so this kind of incident never occurs. He’s had a ninety-nine percent success rate. Without Gojo’s meddling, it’d probably be one-hundred)
There’s not a lot of information about the mission at present. The case files were barely filled out when he got them - only three papers tucked away neatly in a manila folder. On those pages are a few reports of cursed energy in the area and a map - outlining the general perimeter. From what intel the two of you do have, the concentration of said cursed energy in an abandoned commune. Megumi thinks it spells trouble, but some part of him is holding onto hope that it’s an easy to deal with curse. Something quick - so the two of you can be back on the next train ride to Tokyo.
Pitiful yearning fills him when your hands float away from his shoulder and settle back into your lap. You’re lost in your own thoughts, eyes lidded as you stare outside of the window. He doubts you got much sleep last night. You always stay up before long trips. He sighs a little.
“We’ve still got,” He checks his watch. “At least another hour and fifty minutes. Now’d be the time to get some rest.”
You startle at the sound of his voice, a yawn escaping you. “No,” You whine, lips formed into a soft pout that makes the corners of Megumi’s lips twitch. “Won’t you be lonely without my company, Megumi-kun?”
He gives you a long suffering sigh. “No. I have a lot to read. Get some sleep.”
Your frown deepens but Megumi doesn’t budge. The both of you make prolonged eye-contact until you final give in after another yawn interrupts your protesting. Your eyes are barely open as is. How stubborn of you.
“Wake me up like fifteen minutes before we’re there, please?” You relent.
Megumi just nods. You smile at him and his heart beats loudly at the sight as you close your eyes and succumb to exhaustion. He starts scrolling on his phone, opening his library app to read when your head falls onto his shoulder. He goes stone stiff - body locking up and blood pressure sky-rocketing before he regains control of his senses and loosens his muscles so you don’t end up waking. He leans his head back against the cushion of the seat and takes a deep breath.
His phone buzzes in his hand, mood dropping as soon as he sees who it’s from.
don’t respond: my dearest megumi-chan ! have the two of you arrived safely?
Megumi thinks about not responding, quickly reminded of the fact Gojo-sensei would not only keep texting him but abuse the ‘Notify Anyway’ option given half the chance. Ignoring the oncoming migraine, he types back carefully in order to leave you undisturbed.
(sent 6:58pm) we’re on the train now.
The reply is instant.
don’t respond: oh my… how late. was there a delay.
(sent 6:58 pm) yeah.
don’t respond: tsk…why pay all that money for the good seats if this was the outcome...
don’t respond: well. nothing you can do now. get a hotel in Sendai and check out the location during the day.
Megumi squints at his phone, scowl forming instantly.
(sent 7:02) a hotel?? what for??
don’t respond: megumi-chan… i raised you better than this. you are going to let a beautiful young maiden walk around the dark unknown at night?
He makes a face of disgust at the phrase. Not that Megumi thinks you aren’t beautiful, but hearing the sentiment from Gojo-sensei’s mouth is truly nauseating.
(sent 7:02) … we’ll get the hotel.
don’t respond: wonderful ! and if i may offer you some advice my dear boy
(sent 7:03) please don’t.
don’t respond: do not miss your chance ! this beautiful gift your sensei has bestowed upon you to make progress in your youthful love
Megumi scowls. He knew that was it.
(sent 7:04): You disliked “do not miss your chance ! this…”
dont respond: [IMG ATTACHMENT]
Megumi stares at the attached meme (a dog gyaru posing) with a grimace - no doubt borrowed from Itadori or Kugisaki. He frowns, disliking that one too before putting the messages between them on mute and opening the app to read his book. He’s been reading a lot of his usual nonfiction. Lately it’s an autobiography of a famous Japanese author - Soseki, the father of all modern novels. He’s gotten farther into it than he thought he would since he’s only had it for a few days. The writing is engaging.
He bought it per your recommendation too, so he wants to finish it. The sudden memory of that makes Megumi blush again, his skin prickling under the fabric of his uniform.
You’re still sound asleep beside him, your breathing even and steady. If he focuses, he can see you clearly from the corner of his eyes. The soft plumpness in your lips, and each of your lashes sitting against your cheek.
He keeps focused on reading, though - and prays that the train ride goes a little faster.
__
“Hey,” His arm feels stiff as he moves it away from you gentle, making sure to keep your head upright and steady on the seats headrest as he wakes you from your sleep. “We’re almost here.”
He sees your eyes stir behind your lids, nose crinkling as you regain consciousness. He’s grateful you can’t see him smile at you as you wake up. Quickly getting his face back to it’s baseline neutral, he waits for you to wake up as you pull away from him and sit up. You let out a long yawn, rubbing underneath your eye as to not smudge your makeup. Blinking the sleep away from your vision, you finally open your eyes. Megumi watches on in silence, trying not to look too endeared.
“Good morning,” You say as a half joke. Megumi doesn’t bother hiding his laugh.
“Morning.”
You smile at him, pleased by his response. You pat around your body looking for your phone, visibly relieved when you find it. Megumi continues watching you as you pull it up, resting your hands on the pull-out table in front of you. You chuckle at your screen. Megumi raises his eyebrow in interest.
“Did you talk to Gojo-sensei?”
He nods. “Couple of hours ago. Why?”
Instead of replying, you pull your notification center down and show Megumi the barrage of texts sent two hours-ish prior. Your phone must’ve been on DND while you were asleep since Megumi hadn’t heard them either. There’s at least ten messages. Megumi scowls in displeasure, and you break out into a terribly lovely laugh seeing it.
“See what I mean? If you give sensei an inch, he’ll take a mile. Why is he texting you this student this much?”
You can’t suppress your giggles. “Don’t be so hard on him. He’s a little lonely now that you’re old enough to do things by yourself - that’s all.”
“Then he should bother me instead of you,” Megumi grumbles. Your smile doesn’t fade.
“He texted you afterwards, so I guess it’s a start.”
“Stop being so nice to him.”
You laugh again. Megumi tries not to smile and ultimately succeeds.
You study him for a brief moment before reclining a bit.
“Guess I’ll have to be extra nice to you, then.”
A blush crawls up the back of his neck almost instantly. Your grin has a crooked edge, a touch of mirth and amusement that makes Megumi want to crawl into somewhere dark and disappear. Warmth and restless makes home in his ribcage, your perception endlessly tormenting. You don’t tease him more than that, allowing Megumi catch his breath.
“I don’t even know how that’d be possible.”
“Really?” You say without missing a beat, not even looking at him as you gather up your things. “I can think of plenty of ways to be even sweeter to Megumi-kun, though?”
He can feel the blush deepen. His cheeks are undeniably crimson by now, he’s sure - and he can barely stand the soft quality in your voice long enough to breathe. You’re still calm, the words genuine but undeniably tilted along the axis of teasing. If Megumi were any less stubborn, he might even beg you for mercy. He is, of course, incredibly bull-headed and refuses to do so. He huffs a little instead.
“You make it sound like there’s some quota for it.” He says, kind of lamely. Your eyes flutter, something passing in your gaze - gone before Megumi can get hold of it and know what it is. You make an impassive noise, but don’t say anything in reply. Your non-answer makes him think that you might really have one. He tries not to blush any more than he is now and shakes the thought off.
“You all ready to go?” You ask finally. He lets out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah. Should be.” Megumi replies, looking down at his phone for the time. It’ll be closer to 9:30 by the time you get out of the station. “Dunno if you read Sensei’s messages but he told us to stay the night at a hotel first since it’s already this late and it’s nothing urgent.”
Your brows raise in surprise before you nod. “That’s probably smart. As much I’d love to be done sooner, probably not the best idea to go lurking around in the night. We’ll do that, then.”
“I’ll start looking at hotels,” Megumi adds.
“Thanks for being so helpful, Megumi-kun.”
He rolls his eyes. “Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”
__
“This is…really the only place with available rooming for tonight?”
Megumi looks at you with an absent grimace, affirming you with a curt nod. You glance at each other, sharing mutual disbelief and basking in the solidarity of your absurd situation for a bit. A long silence stretches over you both, a weighted quiet that makes Megumi wish a giant curse would literally swallow him into the ground.
He wishes he had some explanation for this. His name meaning blessing feels like a spit in the face given how deeply unlucky everything about this mission has been so far.
Of all the hotels in Sendai, the only one within reasonable distance of your mission site that is accepting last minute is a love hotel. A love hotel is something of a non-issue. It’s a tourist misconception to view them as kinky paradises. More modern love hotels are usually just short stays - last minute bookings with cheap prices and always adult. The full blown kinky stuff tends to stay in the several entertainment districts scattered across Japanese metropolitans.
It’d be nice if that was the case here, but based on various reviews and the neon flashing blue sign at the top of the building - this is definitely the kind of love hotel for couples. The kind used for sex. It’s the only one in proximity accepting last minute bookings, and the only hotel for miles. Megumi lets out a long suffering sigh. He can see you smiling sympathetically from the corner of his eye. He pinches the bridge of his nose as a new wave of regret settles in his bones.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi says, unsure of what else to say. He is truly and deeply sorry for the level of misfortune he seems to have around you. You shake your head in reply, shrugging.
“Let’s make the best of it,” You respond, pausing before going on. “Sensei is going to be really annoying about seeing this charge on his card, huh?”
Megumi must look as distraught as he feels because you laugh immediately at his expression. You squeeze his shoulder sympathetically, though you clearly find it funny. “Sorry, sorry. It’ll be fine. Maybe he won’t notice.”
Gojo-sensei tends to keep tabs whenever people are away on missions. It’s a common precaution for sorcerers, and when more experienced sorcerers relegate their own work - they are solely responsible for that task. Megumi can only hope he’s too busy to keep watch on it for the night. Realistically though, it means Sensei will definitely see.
Megumi decides to overlook this information as best he can. At least for now.
You trek into the hotel with your away bag, Megumi in-step behind you with his head hung low.
It sounds corny to him retroactively (he can’t help but cringe when he says it aloud), but Megumi had foolishly hoped he could be somewhat useful to you in this mission. Every fight the two of you have been in together, you’ve saved Megumi’s skin at least once. He’s incredibly aware of the increasing debt between you. Thank you’s and paid dinners stopped being enough a long time ago. He wasn’t…hoping to be a knight in shining armor or anything like that - but he really wanted to do more this time since you’re already going together.
You probably understood that talking to the front desk in these conditions would give him a hernia and took the responsibility on without complain. You make these acts of consideration look easy and natural - smooth like the flow of water. Megumi has yet to learn how to swim against the tide instead of getting swept up in its motion.
Despite Megumi’s countless attempts at repaying your kindness, he’s never been able break even. He reflects on this as you speak to the woman at the front desk.
The lobby of Hotel:SAPPHIRE is exactly what someone might expect from an actual love hotel. The lights are dim even up front and there’s a lot of glittery, mildly gaudy decor. Aside from the front desk, the first floor hosts some kind of amenities store and a lounge or bar.
Megumi’s awareness of his surroundings is making his blush worse. He’s not concerned by being seen in a love hotel, as much as he’s hung up on the idea that people are assuming you’re both a couple. Rationally, he knows that means nothing. You’re two people of the opposing gender and similar age - of course people would think that.
Still, it makes him so…ugh…shy, he could genuinely die of misery.
He tries his best to zone out, but ultimately can’t. He tunes in to listens to you talk to the woman at the front desk instead.
“There’s probably no double beds here, huh?” You ask. The woman at the front desk gives you a confused look of both sympathy and apology. You shake your head with a pleasant smile.
“Yeah. I thought so. What’s the nicest room you have?”
“We have a queen room, with a queen bed, couch and a jacuzzi. It has one of our more spacious bathrooms as well.”
Megumi closes his eyes. Your reply is chipper. “Sure! We’ll take that one.”
“And how long will you be staying?”
“About five days?”
His eyes snap open. Megumi gives you an incredulous look from where he’s standing. You turn back with a small smile as if having predicted it and then shrug again.
“I still wanna go sightseeing.”
He can’t say anything to refute you in the moment, despite how much he’d like to push back on the idea. You’re definitely enjoying yourself, at least. Maybe he should’ve expected that. You’re not exactly the type to get easily embarrassed. Even getting the words of complaint out feel too humiliating given the context. He sighs.
“Whatever,”
The woman at the front desk, increasingly baffled by the nature of your relationship, puts you down for five days before handing you two room cards.
She briefly explains some of the perks, and gently points you to the small store which freely offers things like lube, condoms, scented lotions and oils, and bath products. It’d be great if some meteor hit Earth right now and killed him (and only him) instantly. You give her your kindest thanks and take the two room cards, turning around to pass one over to Megumi. He gives you a long look. You reply with two thumbs up and goofy grin.
“Let’s go to the little store place!”
“Why the hell would you want to do that” Megumi hisses, blushing profusely. You are predictably nonplussed by his reaction.
“I want to see the scented lotions. A souvenir. If you will.”
It’s truly imperative to to him in that moment he remembers how often you’ve saved him from mortal peril. He relents easily after that, trailing along behind you.
It’s less of a store and more of a display case of possible lewd items on four sides of a centered wall, with just enough space to walk around. Megumi stonewalls as soon as the two of you are within five feet of it. You take your time looking through the different thing and snickering at the display case.
At one point, you tug Megumi’s sleeve and snap him out of his trance. He begrudgingly follows your gaze, eyes widening at the display case of condoms. There are so many condoms. He didn’t even know they made that many kinds.
“Maybe we should bring one? You know, just in case.” You do a stupid wiggle with your eyebrows. Megumi is painfully aware it’s just jokes, closing his eyes with a deep sigh, elbowing you lightly.
“Fuck off.”
Your voice is sing-songy as you continue your tirade.
“You never know, Megumi! What if end up in a condom emergency trying to fight curses?”
“Please shut up.”
Your laughter sounds again behind your closed fist, but you’re merciful and turn the corner to look at everything else.
You indeed pick up two scented lotions and a bath bomb before you finally agree to retire to the room.
__
Megumi is rendered speechless when you finally unlock the door to your room.
He isn’t sure why. He should’ve expected much worse.
The room is big as promised. Probably three times the size of his own dorm at Jujutsu Tech. There’s one bed in the middle (certainly king-sized, not queen) - with a couch and glass table adjacent to it along the back wall. The couch is upholstered with a creaky, gold fabric and the walls are painted mostly white with the exception of one wall being painted sapphire blue, decorated with a rose mural. The throw pillows and complimentary blanket share a familiar loud pattern, incorporating all three colors and stitched with gold threads.
There’s rose petals everywhere. On the bed, floor, and the table. The glass table accompanying the couch even has two champagne flutes and complimentary bottle to go along with it. There’s a present box on the bed, wrapped in shiny white wrapping paper and a sickly sweet, red bow.
Megumi doesn’t want to know what’s inside.
You shut the door behind him after dragging in the rest of your luggage.
The two of you take in the view together for a minute before Megumi hears you break out into a long fit of laughter, making him jolt. He looks over at where you’ve dropped down into a squat, giggling hysterically beside him. He feels suddenly winded from the days events as you break the tension.
After you gather yourself you stand to your feet and look at him warmly, wiping tears from the corners of your eyes. Megumi wishes he could take it as easy as you.
“Ahh…hehehe..” You put a hand over your mouth trying to suppress the sound as you turn away. “Okay, sorry. Uhm. Hah. Do you want to shower first or should I?”
Megumi responds reflexively. “You can shower first.”
You nod, yawning as you stretch your arms up. He forces himself not to look at the way your shirt rides up over your stomach. Patting his shoulder after collecting yourself, you shoot him a tired but reassuring smile. At least he knows you’re both exhausted.
“Thanks, Megumi-kun. Do me a favor and order room service, please? I’m starving.”
He nods. “Do you want to look at the menu?”
You wave your hand dismissively, taking your bag and turning to the bathroom. “I trust you know me well enough to know what I want.”
The instant preening internally makes Megumi want to crawl in a hole. He’s glad you can’t see him.
“Yeah. Go shower, already.”
“Mm,” You make a noise as you stretch. “Will do.”
__
The room is unnaturally dim.
There’s a movie playing in the background as both you and Megumi sit on the bed. You’re doing some work on your laptop - typing in short bursts every few minutes. Megumi has no idea what you’re working on. You’re oddly meticulous with paper work but aside from the disaster of finding room and board - there isn’t anything to report on.
Whatever it is though, you’ve been working on since you finished dinner an hour ago - nursing your beer while typing away.
Megumi glances at you from the corner of his eyes, heart unfairly racing at the lack of distance between you. He really should be past this. Your skin is damp from the shower and you smell like the scented lotion from earlier which makes him feel weird and warm. He decided to drink with you, but his tolerance is much worse than yours so he feels a little tipsy. He isn’t sure if that’s better or worse. Dealing with everything sober hasn’t been very fun.
He’s staring at you openly but you’re too preoccupied to take notice. He’s kind of grateful. His fingers tap the sides of his can as his eyes flits up to the cheap action movie playing on the TV.
After a little longr, you stretch your arms over your head and shut your laptop.
“All done with your work?”
You blink rapidly, momentarily taken aback before smiling. “Yeah. Finally.”
“What were you actually doing?”
“Started on the report and then dug around some old archives for information on the commune.”
“Did you find anything?”
You laugh humorlessly. “More or less? But nothing we couldn’t have figured out on our own. The commune was more like a curse cult but it ran functionally for almost ten years. They did some type of curse breeding.”
“Curse… breeding? As in like…?” Megumi asks, making a face.
“It’s what it sounds like? I think. There’s not really any more information. The uploaded documents were barely legible. How it works, why they did it, and if it was effective - we have no information on that. Just that there was some powerful curses in the area in the late nineties.”
“In the nineties? So it’s been what, decades since any activity? Why now?”
You shrug. “Best guess is that the sudden uptick in tourism caused it. You know, Sensei had some business in Sendai a few years back. It was right before Itadori-kun got hold of Sukuna I think. It’s not impossible for all of it to be connected.”
Megumi sighs. “Don’t know if that makes it better or worse.”
“I want to look into Gojo-sensei’s case right now but,” A yawn interrupts your train of thought. “We’ll need to be up and at ‘em early tomorrow.”
“Right,” He says, immediately preparing to sleep on couch and praying you won’t notice. “Goodnight, then -“
His plans are foiled fast of course. Before he can get up, you tug at the sleeve of his robe. Your face is flush from beer and sleep. You’re so effortlessly alluring to his brain he’s irritated. The motion picture casts a soft glow on your features, picturesque in how pretty you seem to be with no effort.
“Where are you going?”
“To sleep on the couch.”
“I can’t let you do that,” You shake your head. Megumi says nothing. “I’ll take the couch.”
He purses his lips. “Did you think I was gonna say yes to that?”
You press your lips into a flat line. “No…not really. But.. I can’t let you sleep on the couch. It’ll be a long day and you need rest,” You smile at him sleepily “I don’t mind sharing the bed.”
“Absolutely not,” He replies instantly. You pout at him. Damn it.
“Megumi-kun, please? We can just put one of the pillows between us.”
Megumi stares at you with a hardened brow. He knows from experience that a pillow would barely resolve the issue. A lesson he learned at fifteen where a similar incident had you both sleeping in the same tent.
You move in your sleep. A lot. As a result, fifteen year old Megumi spent an entire night with you, paralyzed by the lack of distance and missing an entire night of sleep. Every muscle in his body in his body had set rigid like early onset rigor mortis from stress that night.
He barely slept. Worse, the next morning Sensei had practically harassed him about his disheveled state. Megumi couldn’t look you in the eye for the rest of the mission, though he got over it eventually. Only because you seemed very troubled when he didn’t talk to you.
You’re making a similarly distressed expression now at the thought of making Megumi sleep on the couch. He winces, swayed with embarrassing ease. The feeling fades after he sees how brightly you smile.
“Thank you,”
He wants to ask why you’re thanking him, but doesn’t know if he can handle hearing the answer so he says nothing. You turn the TV off and finish your beer and toss the can before returning to bed and undoing the covers. Megumi sits on the edge, watching as you rearrange the various pillows. You place a body pillow in between the both of you and fluff up another pillow to give to Megumi. You smile as you hand it to him, and he takes it with a soft blush.
He reminds you to go brush your teeth and watches you pad off to go do it, sighing and trying to meditate before it’s his turn to do the same. The alcohol is wearing off quicker than he hoped.
The room is nearly pitch black except for a single dim light when Megumi comes back from the bathroom. You’re already in bed, and you smile when Megumi emerges with a stupidly cute giggle following. He’ll never get used to you, he’s sure.
Megumi craws into bed beside you. The bed is wide and spacious - and there’s plenty of room seperating you. He isn’t any less self-conscious of the fact he’s still sleeping in a bed next to you though, for better for worse.
“Night, Megumi.” You mumble, barely awake. You’ll fall asleep fast. Megumi reaches over and turns off the lights.
“Night.”
He lays in the dark, facing the other wall and waiting for your breathing to go even. Compelled to turn towards your back, Megumi does so as quietly and unobtrusively as possible. He can make out your silhouette in the dark, tracing the outline of your shoulder with his eyes as he continues to feel incredibly nervous and lovesick. He’s been pining like this for so long, he finds it pathetic.
You’re less than a few feet away but he can barely bring himself to look at you. Oddly overwhelmed, he lets his eyes close and tries his best not to think too much about the next few days.
__
Against all odds, Megumi sleeps well and wakes up feeling better.
You, of course, moved around a bunch in your sleep - ending up on his side of the bed with a single arm thrown across his waist and your face in his chest. He woke up earlier than you, thankfully - and carefully pried himself from your touch to take a cold shower in the bathroom and not die of embarrassment at the resulting morning wood.
You were awake by the time he got out. After you were both ready for the day, you ate breakfast together and had coffee before leaving the hotel. The whole situation was more embarrassing during the daylight.
Your hotel is a twenty minute drive from the site location of the mission. A quick taxi cab ride to a small temple. Navigating isn’t exceptionally difficult. The temple itself is somewhat obscured, not marked on any online maps. It’s well known locally though, enough that a taxi driver could take them towards the bottom of the hill where it’s located. It’s listed as a temple, but on further inspection it’s a small and worn shrine. The details about the shrines origin or history are unclear even.
After arriving, you were both relying on the provided map. The commune itself is away from civilization. A couple hundred meters Northeast from the temple sight is a path through the forest - leading out to the clearing where the commune is supposedly located.
The communes ruins are a one straight distance after that. If someone was taking a short hike, it wouldn’t be hard to find.
So it isn’t difficult to find for the two of you either.
Megumi’s shikigami follow along side him, divine dog sniffing along the trail. You’re up front, checking the path and making sure the trail is correct, as well taking notes for your report later on.
You turn your head and share a look with Megumi - no doubt feeling the same thing he does. There’s cursed energy around here, but it’s weird and hard to trace. Neither him nor the Shikigami can make sense of exactly where it’s coming from.
Eventually, you come across stone - laid deliberately like a pathway, and glance at Megumi with hopeful eyes.
A clearing comes in view. Ruins, with cursed energy brimming somewhere within them fall into his sightline. It’s a bigger location that Megumi thought it’d be - stretching out far despite hosting so few residents. There are dilapidated cabins and other buildings, the place filled with overgrowth and ivy. Shattered windows, graffiti, and trash affirm to Megumi that this place was found by other people at one point or another.
Megumi stands besides you as you assess the situation, silently taking the lead. You step forward, further in. A sigh leaves your lips as you turn to Megumi.
“We’re here but,” You scratch the back of your neck. “What to do now is…”
“What are you thinking?”
You sigh. “Part of me wonders if we should split up to check the buildings, but the information is so vague that I don’t know if it’s a good idea.”
“It’s fine.” Megumi assures. He’s not thrilled but splitting up for now is the best course of action. He can handle himself. He’s sure you’re worrying about that. “As long as we can hear each other, it should be fine.”
Your concern muddles your features, brows drawn together as you frown. You relent eventually though. Megumi feels the corners of his mouth twitch up at how long you think about it.
“Okay then,” You use your fingers to point towards the left half, right at what looks like an abandoned dormitory. “I’ll go look in there. Megumi-kun can go that way. And if anything sticks out, call for me immediately.”
“Don’t worry so much.”
“If it’s Megumi, I can’t help but worry,” Your reply comes in the same beat. He feels himself blush, casting his gaze to his Divine Dog with a frown.
“I’ll be fine so let’s hurry up and look around already.”
You still hesitate to part ways with Megumi, but you budge eventually. He waits for you to summon protection for yourself, watching in awe as you unzip a deck of cards from the side pocket of your uniform. Beautiful, steel enforced hanafuda cards shine in the daylight. You shuffle them with your eyes closed, feeling along the backs for the right one before sliding the set back into your uniforms compartment.
You make a gesture to follow along with the command two-handed tanzaku, ten points - and Megumi watches the curse manifest around your arms. A strand of bi-colored tanzaku paper appears in your hand, razor-sharp with cursed energy. You coil it around your wrist before turning to Megumi with a small smile.
Despite how often he’s seen you do it, the appreciation in your face at the newly summoned curse make his emotions bubble and swell with impossible longing.
“Let’s meet back here if we get lost,” You say precariously. Megumi huffs.
“We won’t get lost. It’s barely that far.”
You pout at him. “It’s better to be safe then sorry.”
He wants to ask when you’re doing when you drop down to your knees - but the words die in his throat as your hand comes up to pet his shikigami affectionately. You give it a small smile. “Please take care of Megumi-kun in my absence.”
The Divine Dog lets out a pleased chuff that makes you smile.
“….We’ll be fine,” He says - because as much as he would like to make fun of you for it, he finds it all terribly cute. You stand back up to your feet, seemingly more reassured. That’s good at least. “I’ll go ahead, then.”
Megumi turns to leave before you can get another embarrassing word in edgewise, blush crawling up against his skin. Once he hears your foot steps fall lighter and lighter in the opposite direction, he takes moment to steel himself and prepare for the mission.
It’s easier to tear his mind away from you when the threat of mortal peril looms - so for once, Megumi is just a little grateful to be a sorcerer.
He takes a better look at his surroundings, shikigami sniffing along the crumbling pathways of the ruined commune and searching for a scent. It’s a strange place with a strange aura, aside from the curse. There’s not much way to describe other than tiny village. The half you’ve gone to explore seems to be nothing but houses and communal living - with some kind of central house if Megumi had to guess based on it’s layout.
Where Megumi is walking along though seems to be amenities. On the right is open space - rustic wood stakes stuck into the ground with clothes-wire with a rotted fence separating it from another big patch of dirt. There’s signs tacked onto some of the structural poles along the outside, but they’re too dirty for Megumi to read. It’s easy to tell from how crude everything is that all of it was hand-made.
On the left of him are storage sheds and old-crates that have somehow stood the test of time - covered in dust and dirt and moss. One of the storage sheds has a completely collapsed roof
It’s entirely uninteresting, and that feels unsettling. The cursed air still lingers, but the familiar acrid scent doesn’t seem to be there. It’s something else, something new - and it’s simmering under the surface. Neither he nor his Shikigami seem to pick up on anything clearly.
After a few minutes of walking, Megumi thinks they start to close in on the end of the trail. His shikigami suddenly comes to life. He looks forward.
At the end of the trail, obscured by more forest and trail is a greenhouse. It’s made with all glass, and there’s moss and condensation surrounding it. Something about it feels alive, but Megumi can’t tell if that’s just his well-developed paranoia.
“Go find her,” Megumi says. The shikigami makes an affirmative noise and darts off in the opposite direction as Megumi closes into the building and surrounding structures.
The front door of the structure is pried open and pushed against the wall. It’s an interesting shape - a half-dome and much bigger than how it looks from the outside when Megumi steps in. Too big. It’s weird.
All of the hair stands on the back of Megumi’s neck as he stands inside of it. He fits with plenty of space to move his limbs. There are raised beds along both sides of the facility - the material boxing them in now covered in dirt and dust. Overgrowths and some kind of small plant crush underneath his feet and surround him. It smells… sweet. Very sweet but distantly. Megumi can’t figure out what it is. Towards the back are gardening tools and a table with things on it.
It’s here. This is the center of whatever unusual cursed energy he’s been feeling since they’ve been within one-hundred feet of this place. It’s in here, surrounding him.
His skin starts to feel hot. He figures the presence of the glass might be concentrating sunlight and brushes it aside.
He doesn’t get much time alone in his assessment of the place. A few minutes pass before you find him again, smiling at him upon your return. Megumi’s heart does a soft pitter-patter as you enter, his shikigami proudly behind you. There’s a sudden leap in his affection laying eyes on that doesn’t make sense. It’s unusual and unprofessional for him to get so caught up on it during a mission. He’s had enough with you to know how to tamp the feeling down. He has a hard time with it this time thought but shakes it off.
“Did you find anything?” Megumi asks. Your tanzaku is wrapped around your wrist like a bracelet, Megumi notices.
“Yeah, actually. Notes. I didn’t get much time to check and a lot of them were too water-damaged to read, but I think curse breeding might’ve been an inaccurate,” You say, scratching the back of your neck. “It seemed like something else. With different kinds of cursed energy, or something to create more output.”
Megumi doesn’t know what that means, and it must show on his face because you laugh in understanding. “Yeah. It wasn’t clear to me either but I haven’t seen everything yet. I thought I should come here first so we can expel whatevers here.”
“That’s the problem, though.” Megumi says. “Can’t figure out what exactly is here. The cursed energy is…”
“Obscured,” You say easily. Megumi nods.
“Exactly,”
“Never seen anything like this before, honestly.”
Megumi is surprised by that. You’ve been a special grade for a long time, the extent of your abilities equal to Okkotsu-senpai He doesn’t know how worried he should be. You’re focusing hard as you look around.
He tries to do the same, wants to contribute more to the conversation but his mind feels strangely cloudy. He slept well he thought. Maybe the heat is bothering him more than expected. The uniforms have always been stuffy during summer.
You step around around him to look at your surroundings better, but find the same problem.
After a minute or two of aimlessly searching, something seems to click in. You drop down to your knee. Your fingers caress whatever is sprouting in the ground underneath you. Plucking one from the soil, you bring it up to your face and frown. You’re gentle with the petals. It looks like a clover of some kind, but the color is too bright - more like a small flower maybe. He’s never seen anything like it.
Megumi feels his skin go hot again watching you touch it. It’s odd. Too sudden and almost nonsensical, how much magentism he feels towards your innocuous gesture.
There’s another shift in the air, deliberate - and something moves underneath Megumi’s feet. Your voice is panicked as some sudden realization dawns on you, his shikigami barks loudly.
Everything moves around him in a daze. His ears are ringing suddenly, heart thumping hard against his chest as the flowers beneath him move and distort into tendrils, curling around his ankles.
“Megumi-kun, we have to get out of here. We have to—“
Your words are cut short before he can heed them. A scream rips from his chest as the ground opens up and swallows him whole.
__
He falls for a long time. It seems endless.
His voice is trapped in his throat, despite his attempts to scream. His body weightless, crashes through empty space for what feels like hours. Despite the situation, all Megumi can worry about is you. You aren’t falling beside him though he’s sure you came in together. The whole that ripped the ground was too big for that not to be true. The thought of you dying is so familiar, but it makes Megumi want to throw up mid-air.
The crash comes eventually. Bracing himself for impact as he falls backwards , he lands onto something like grass. It’s not painful in the least. His skin prickles at the sensations surrounding him. Saccharine sweetness distorts the air, an artificial scent clogging his lungs as he gasps and opens his eyes.
He senses a presence next to him and turns to find you beside him in the grass. His body aches, both wanting to find relief in the fact you’ve appeared beside him and feeling uncertainty at the same fact. Cursed energy seeps through every inch of this place, and part of him worries you’re some kind of illusion or mirage. Regardless, he calls out for you and hopes you’ll answer.
“Hey,” He tries saying your name but you don’t budge. He nudges your arm but retracts just as quickly, hissing - the sensation making his skin burn at point of contact. A hole sears in your uniform where he touches you. “Wake up, shit. Please wake up.”
After another minute, your eyes open. Megumi lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. You groan as you sit up. Megumi sits up with you.
“Fuck,” Your voice is thick as you sit with one leg up, a pressing a knuckle to your temple. “My head is pounding.”
Megumi makes a noncommittal noise. “Yeah. I can’t tell what kind of domain this is.”
“These were just apart of the curse, then. I felt something off of them but..,” You pick a flower up from the grass and it..moves. He frowns. “They must just be apart of the domain. Which means there’s a special grade behind this.”
Right. Megumi has been too hung up on everything else to make proper note of that. He rubs the back of his neck as he tries to absorb his surroundings. The air around him is hazy pink. He can’t acclimate to it, breathing shallow. From the flower-curse you picked, to the plants on the trees nearby. It’s lush and humid, but the makeup in the surroundings is dreamlike. A woodland forest of some kind, maybe. There’s a waterfall and round body of water, a short distance away and trees on every side. It’s alarming in how beautiful it is, disconcerting since the cursed energy inside is potent enough to make all the hair on Megumi’s neck stand straight.
“My, my. What delicious sorcery I’ve stumbled upon,”
Megumi looks around to try to find the source of the voice but comes up with nothing. You and Megumi share a look in silent understanding.
“An unregistered Special Grade in the underground of Sendai.” Your voice is resolute. It sounds so different to how you usually speak, firm and cold. “How did you obscure your cursed energy like this.”
“So many questions. Don’t be so hostile to your host,” The voice is soft and feminine but deeply distorted at the same time. Grating. “I’m a benevolent spirit, little sorcerer - so I won’t kill you right away. Keep in mind you are in my domain. To attack me would be unwise. And I promise, you’ll feel good until the very end.”
You quiet, assessing the situation. There’s so little about the curse that either of you can make out. The curse is intelligent enough to bargain - to reason, which means the danger you’re both in is substantial enough to be incredibly cautious. You realize it quickly, Megumi is sure. He shoots you a look, your brows furrowed as you try to make everything make sense.
“What are you after?”
“You must know, little sorcerer. Human desire is filthy thing. Money, power, fame.” The air changes around you - flowers besides you blooming higher and higher until you’re all but surrounded. The sickly sweet scent becomes stronger and headier. Megumi’s lungs fill with the strange gas, burning the back of his throat. He coughs, trying to expel it. “What beautiful curses are born from pent-up and unspoken wants.”
“Fuck this is so irritating,” You seem to be in a similar condition, holding up your first to your mouth as you cough along side him
“Human beings are so foolish in the face of lust, so inducing such a fever is easy. But the results can be so lackluster.” The curse is taunting, giddy at the prospect of you. “How lucky and I to come across such talented jujutsu sorcerers with such ripe energy, hm?’
“An underhanded method like this,” You talk mostly to yourself. “Your physical form must be weak, then. To obscure yourself inside of your domain.”
Megumi can feel the cursed energy amplify, a sneer in the Special Grade’s voice.
“How clever.” It remarks sarcastically. “But not clever enough. It’ll be staring any minute now. Fight it to your hearts content, little sorcerer. I’m looking forward to the show.”
It’s only a split second before the heat starts to sink into Megumi’s body. He burns so intensely, so suddenly - it makes every other sensation feel trivial. It’s painful, searing, and all-consuming. Breathless, he feels his vision blur as a strong wave of physical arousal completely dominates him. It’s like an injection, nerves on high alert as he pulls at the neck of his uniform and gasps. The flowers surrounding you bloom into something grotesque, an open mouth in the center hissing out more of the pink hazy gas that’s surrounding you before turning again, until you can barely see a few feet away from each other. Megumi can feel the cursed energy course through his body, like pure fire in his blood stream. His cock is hard as steel, makes him feel like he’s going to pass out if he doesn’t touch himself.
Forcing himself to remain steady for as long as he can, he searches for you. Your condition isn’t better as you lean back on your palms - your chest heaving in out as visible arousal paints your face. You share the same pain, the same lust, the same fever. The thought of it makes Megumi’s cock stir again shamefully.
“I’m sorry,” Megumi can barely make out his voice. It’s so painful. His entire body feels like it’s screaming but he can’t bear the idea of forcing you to touch him. These conditions, this situation - this terrible heat. Whatever loose threads of rationale are keeping him afloat in these few minutes are begging him to find a way out of this.
He knows it’s the circumstances. No one understands things like this more clearly than him but he feels deep resentment anyway. Mostly towards himself. “I’m sorry.. aah, fuck - I don’t want to force this.”
“Megumi-kun.” You manage to voice some of your lucidity like he has, the brunt of it closing in. He feels like he’s only deluding himself, biting the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood. “Come here.”
“No,” He almost screams it. He wants too. But he can’t find his voice to speak to you like that. He hopes the urgency reaches you. “I’m sorry. Shit, shit—”
He doesn’t want to shatter the thing he’s so desperately protected - to ruin the relationship he’s felt so precious about so many years of his life. He doesn’t want it to happen this way. He can feel the self-loathing as he bites his tongue.
He’s dreamed of it so often, to touch you and kiss you and hold you. But at the hands of a curse feel so unfair.
“It’s okay,” Your voice is so soft - a salve to his nerves. A balm to ache of his whole life, calm and smooth and so kind. He burns so deeply he wants to scream. Your expression is somber but still assured. “It’s okay. It hurts right? So it’s fine.”
He closes his eyes. Such a pure despair. Fuck. Tears well up his vision. The pain is unbearable without you. Perhaps it’s always been that way.
“Please,”
A desperate attempt to no one to wake up from this.
“Megumi-kun,”
It’s the sound of your voice, calling his name so assuredly even in the face of death, that finally makes Megumi shatter. The heat overtakes him. Posesses his sense and forces him onto you like a lifeline.
He throws himself at you in the grass, almost knocking you back with the force of his body. Both hands clasp your face as he presses his lips with yours with nothing but desperation. It’s less of a kiss and more of crash landing. He can feel his own conflict stirring inside of him but the relief of your touch drowns out his surroundings. All else in the world becomes silent except the taste of your mouth and the feeling of your face. How much he’s longed to this very thing, dreamed of it. Years. Over a decade of his life hiding in your beautiful shadow.
You pull away from Megumi with a gasp and your face makes his entire body jolt. A flush dusts along your cheekbones as your hands reach for his shoulders. His head feels light. He can feel his cock twitch at the contact, suddenly gaining awareness of just how hard he is.
“Megumi-kun,” You sound so serious it jolts him awake. His eyes open wide as he watches you undress hastily. You’re stumbling in your movements as you take everything off as quickly as you can - grabbing Megumi by the collar as he sits stiffly. “Take it off. All of it. Now, please.”
At his wits end, he does. His hands tremble. His rational mind is fighting him at every gesture but his clothes feeling so constraining, binding him. His skin prickles, an itch skipping over his whole body as he takes everything off as fast as his hands allow. His vision is distorted from the heat. His uniform is sticky as he peels it off, drenched in sweat. He doesn’t see where they go, only feeling the relief as they come off his body. He looks for you unconsciously, immediately wanting to pull away from you as he finds you naked. The feeling is so primal it strikes fear in him. Another wave of unimaginable want pours over his skin like magma spilling across rock.
He can’t count how much time he’s spent shamefully wondering what you look like naked. You exceed his expectations just like always, unbearably gorgeous. Soft edges and curves, scars and stretch marks - so unfairly enticing to his senses. He groans at the sight of you, eyes lidded in unadulterated, carnal want as you crawl over to him.
Your hand pushes his shoulders back lightly towards the bed of grass underneath you both, until he’s flat on his back. He’s overwhelmed when you crawl on top of him. You’re fever-sick just like he is, and Megumi is sure that you’re in just as much pain.
But the face you make when you look like you want him is so fucking unfair.
You’re beautiful and tricky and cunning and Megumi wants and wants and wants. Wants so fucking bad he might die, wants you so bad the heat in his body threatens to kill him without you. He needs you to touch him. Needs to feel your pretty hands slide across his body and touch whatever you want.
You lean forward to kiss him again much harder then before. Desperation makes kissing feel so pleasurable, so good. You feel so damn good. His mind is a blank slate, your tongue carving his wants into, rewiring his conscious to pine after you until the end. Your lips are soft - pillowy and plush against his own despite how much the kiss feels like little more but tongue and teeth. He wants to forfeit it all for the sake of this lasting a little longer, just as he has his entire life.
Your existence a proof of his namesake - tongue and taste a blessing.
Your body is soft and hot against Megumi’s skin but together the temperature cools comfortable. It’s sensual how slippery the sweat makes your bodies as you rub against each other. A mutual oasis, your tits squish along his abs and chest as Megumi holds you tight. Each time your nippls brush, his cock floods with precum.
You slip your tongue into his mouth, and kiss Megumi sloppily. His cock pulses awake at the wetness, a strong wave of arousal backing him into a corner. Your pussy is barely hovering against his cock but Megumi strains. It gets pulled from him, an involuntary reaction. Cum spurts out of him, splashing up against your skin - dripping as it sticks to your pussy in hot spurts. He groans into your lips.
“Did you cum from us kissing?” You ask, your voice completely gone. It’s you but it’s not. It matters but it doesn’t.
He makes an affirmative noise and you giggle into his mouth, teeth bumping together as you kiss more. “Megumi-kun is cute.”
He’s still so painfully hard. Electricity flares through everyone of his nerves as he slides just barely against your cunt. Fuck. You’re so wet. It feels so good it makes Megumi want to buck his hips and be inside of you already. Impatience makes his grip on your hips tight. His brain feels like it’s weighted with lead. He’s losing himself, losing his fucking mind like this. You taste sweet against his tongue as you sink your pussy down and grind against his length. You’re throbbing so hard Megumi can feel every pulse, the desperate spasming of your sex approaching orgasm.
The filthiness of your arousal mixing together makes Megumi’s cock twitch against your clit hard. You moan loudly into his mouth and the sound sends him over edge, a life-time of pining make it hard to breathe as you take initiative and pleasure yourself with his body. He’s incredibly eager to allow you. Over and over, you slide your soft pussy over the length of his cock and balls - aimlessly covering it with slick, hips rutting and shivering with motion. Drools drips along the corners of your lips as you kiss him.
He already wants to cum again, wants to take you in such a primal way it makes him dizzy. He feels whole thinking about what it might feel to cum so deeply inside of you. He’s thought about before, but the thought holds so much more weight in the state of his fever.
But now it’s the only thing he wants. His teeth ache at the mere prospect. Of filling your pussy with his cum until it overflows and drips. Wants to see it pulse and push and spill and fuck it into you at your request. He wants to hear you praise him for it just like he always does, the desire much stronger than ever. Easier to admit in this curse induced sex.
You’re breathless as you orgasm above him, on top of him - sliding along his cock and soaking his lower half with stickiness of your pussy. You pull away from his mouth to laugh delightfully. He’s so hard. He wants you so much he doesn’t know how to express it other than kissing you desperately - still restraining himself.
It’s so much easier to catch his breathe now that you’ve both cum. Even painfully highstrung from the high with such a horrible temperature, something settles before it builds back up again.
The relief is burdensome almost.
“So we,” You’re breathless, more yourself and Megumi has never been happy yet so sad to see this glimpse of you again. “We both have to…haah.. cum. For the fever to slow...That’s something to work with.”
Your expression is more serious as you lean forward, sweaty forehead touching his. It’s you doing it, not the curse forcing you both and that makes his body react. “Megumi-kun. Everything will be okay.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t,” He screws his eyes shut hard. “I didn’t want this to happen. This is..”
He wants to say the worst possible outcome, but he doesn’t. You smile at him. “It’s okay because it’s you.”
Even in the middle of all of this, you manage to get his hopes up in the worst possible way. He can’t do anything but laugh at that, genuine exhaustion starting to make him lose sense. Another wave is coming quickly, steadily. Taking a serious look at his face, you hold him close to you.
“We’ll survive this. We’ve fought worse.”
“You’re comforting me at a time like this,”
You just smile at him. The heat spikes again, even more intensely than before and both of you stare at each other as the lust glosses over your expression. A pit forms in his stomach, the arousal spiking so high he chokes on it. You’re kissing again - no build up as you slide your tongue sloppily against his mouth and rub against his cock. It’s not enough this time, not even close. His chest is tight as he gasps the words against your mouth.
“Inside.” He breathes the word between kisses, spit and saliva dripping down the sides of his face. “Need to be inside. Please, shit. Please.”
“I want it inside.” You say and Megumi groans as your hands reach between your bodies - sticky from the mess. His cock twitches as soon as your hand wraps around the base of his shaft. You pump it twice as you sit up completely to get better accesses to it. The absence of your body makes him needy again.
Pre-cum dribbles pathetically from the tip as you guide his cock to your pussy. Without any prep at all, you lean back and slam your weight down onto him with full force. It slides with no resistance - as you take him all the way down to the base with complete ease. Your body collapses into a shiver when you take him inside. You both cum at exactly the same time, your pussy sucking him in with a vice-like grip as he shoots another load into you. Inside of you so deep he’s aroused all over again. His cock is still hard as he fills you - and you ride your mutual high out before another brief moment of sobriety takes you. He’s briefly sated as you pas back down against him, littering bites along his neck.
You smile at him when you pull back, suddenly lucid - bending down to meet his mouth in a kiss sober. He can feel himself blush as he joins you in the brief lucidity.
“Megumi, you’re so big.” You say with breathless laughter. He almost wants to scream he loves you but buries it immediately.
He groans. “I can’t believe you’re being like this given the situation.”
You hum pleasantly and Megumi feels his heart tug. The moment lingers to briefly before it’s interrupted again. It’s abrupt and makes you lean into his chest.
“You sorcerers are boring me to tears,” The curse starts again, making you both stand to alert almost immediately. “Don’t be so shy now.”
The Special Grade repeats the incantation of a technique.
Cursed Technique: Hidden Desires.
The air around Megumi changes suddenly. Instead of the lush oasis, he’s surrounded by a vague, all encompassing darkness similar to when he had been falling. He’s standing in it though he can’t see anything, not even himself. The fever has subsided despite him being inside the domain. Hidden Desires…from the speech the Special Grade went on earlier, he’s sure it’s related. He stands still, unsure of what to do before something appears in front of him.
A sphere of cursed energy, a memory of some kind - at the brush of his fingertips. Despite his attempt to retract his hand, an outside force makes him touch it.
Several emotions course through his entire body at one, passing through his mind steadily. He connects to your body, your cursed energy seeping into him as he touches whatevers in front of him. His skull throbs from the exposure of someone elses memories, the fever returning to his body one-thousand times hotter than normal. A life time breaches his mind but he doesn’t get to sift through any of it.
It comes to a sudden halt, and Megumi hears a whisper in his subconscious. He can’t make the words out properly.
Arousal spikes into his body as what seems to be your desire manifests in his head.
He does not know what reaction to have when memories and images of himself appear. Himself from your perspective, in perpetual motion - memories over the course of years crossed over with manifestations of your desires. All of it is him. Tied up, blindfolded, all other things. But him, always. Some visions are more tender than the rest. He can barely process the information, increasing stimulation making his brain fog once more.
Fever spikes through him again. Confusion, embarrassment, and uncertainty make his stomach flip. He remains cautionary and assumes it’s another trick of the light.He doesn’t get to recover when he’s thrust back into the domain in the same position he was before he left. You look just as confused when he comes back.
There’s not a moment to speak to each other, as the curse gets amplified ten-fold the minute he steps back into the domain. His entire body breaks out in a cherry red blush as arousal twists through his gut, curling up his neck. Claims his whole body all in on forceful gesture. The sensitivity is cranked so high, he can barely feel your hand your hand on his chest without his cock spilling pre-cum.
Furious lust overwhelms him as you lean forward and meet his mouth again. It feels different somehow, the kiss. You press your tongue against his lips as Megumi’s cock twitches inside you.
“Megumi-kun,” Your voice is shot. “Want you to fuck me. Fill me up. Be good and do it, okay? Fuck me so good,”
The words alone are enough to break him from his state of mind. He takes one more look at you after you’ve granted him permission before flipping you over onto your back. He shudders as you wrap your legs around his waist - hands on either side of your head staring down hard, as he positions himself as deep as he can go inside of your cunt. It’s indescribable, the sensation of needing to fuck you. He’s never been one to chase his base instincts like this unless it’s life or death - but it feels so fucking good to let go. It feels like life or death to sate you with hi cum. Megumi is used to sitting on his hands and playing at indifference, but right now you let him take and take and take. Your hands cup his cheeks, your expression hazy with pleasure. He drops his head down to your shoulders and fucks you with every ounce of strength in his waist - animalistic and desperate to scratch the skin deep itch. He bites into your shoulder as you hips slam, the sound of wet-skin slapping against each other ringing in his ears - cum frothing white at the base of his cock and dripping down your ass each time. He needs to cum again, until the heat subsides.
He barely gets a few thrusts in before his body strains in the familiar wake of an orgasm. The words to warn you come out choked as his hips slam against the backs of your thighs harder than ever- cumming inside of you again in what feels like seconds. It goes forever, balls emptying as he pumps his seed inside. You cum alongside him, at the same time - pussy throbbing hard around his shaft as he fills you with spend. It’s not enough, doesn’t give him the same relief this time. He needs more.
“Fuck that’s so good,” You praise making him groan. “You’re so good, baby - fuck, Megumi.”
You moan his name against his neck. Possession settles itself into his chest at the sound as you tell him to give you more, your hands on his ass to push his cock further into you. He fucks into you again - harder, faster, deeper - cumming every time. Pure adrenaline sends him careening down a cliffs edge, unspeakable fervor making it all but impossible to part from you. Scorching like the desert sun along his spine, a solar flare inside of his stomach as you cum together in constant motions.
He can’t stop fucking you. He can’t. His body wont allow him even a minute seperated from the euphoria of your swollen cunt sucking in him like it needs his cum more than anything in the world. His brain feels like liquid matter in his skull, thrashing uselessly when he tries to will himself away from you. Delirium drives his every movements as Megumi fucks his cock into you over and over and over.
You goad him with every thrust of hips - wrapped tight around his waist, fingers tugging at his hair. Praise bubbles from your mouth - champagne light against his skin but so impactful each time. His dick throbs every time you call him good, call him perfect as he fills you with his cum again and again and again.
“My perfect fucking boy. Fuck me, that’s it.”
It goes on like that for what feels like forever.
He loses track by the time the heat starts to subdue again. The curse still simmers under his skin but he finds grounding after unloading a few more times. By then, he can feel how much he’s cum in you and can’t help but blush. The hint of another wave tingles in the back of his head, and he can’t pull away from you without feeling sharp pain.
But he does sober again eventually. He waits for you to join him, and tries not to feel sick at the intimacy of it. He’s back to his senses enough to feel utter embarrassment.
Your voice is soft and exhausted. “Megumi-kun,” You’re so gentle to him. “What did you see?”
He knows what you mean immediately, sensing you must’ve seen the same thing. “I think it might be another illusion of the curse.”
“Why do you think that?”
He can feel his blush darken all over his body. “It was uh, me. In the technique. Tied up and uhm. Anyway. I thought it might be something to provoke the other party into sex.”
Your eyes go wide at the confession. “….Yours was me, too.”
Oh. He blinks. You look at him again, too suddenly - peering at him through your lashes.
“It wasn’t wrong,” You say. You seem scared, just a little. He’s never seen you like that before. “…If you saw yourself and some… kinkier stuff. It wasn’t wrong about that.”
His throat suddenly feels so dry.
“What was…what did you see?” He asks.
“It was me,” You say bashfully. “Mostly romantics and stuff. And some other stuff, but I don’t know if I should tell you, hehe.”
He finds the action mercifully. He wonders if this whole thing is made-up when it dawns on him. Some type of fantasy. Maybe he was the only one down here from the start - and that’s why everything has felt so alarmingly right.
Otherwise. Otherwise it would mean that you…
“Megumi-kun,”
He can’t breathe, but it’s for an entirely different reason. He wonders if he’ll die from his heart beating too fast.”Hm?”
A bated breath follows a sweet smile.
“Love you,” You mumble it against his mouth. The air is so vulnerable - more fragile than the wings of a dragonfly, more fragile than blown glass. “In that way….have for a long time. So long.”
His reply is reflexive.
“No you don’t,”
You pause before bursting out into giggles. So beautiful and clever. He loves you with painful devotion. “That’s your reply to my love confession?!”
“Shut up,” He hisses, though he can’t bring himself to make the words sound any meaner. He feels high.
“I love you, Megumi.” You say more clearly. Your eyes shine with familiarity he’s adored for years. Even with all the fog and haze surrounding you, they’re clear and gorgeous. “More than anyone else in the world, I think.”
He buries his face against your neck, struggling to get it out. He’s afraid to say it. Afraid if he confirms it that everything is going to collapse here. Like a dream that’s gone on too long. Megumi doesn’t want to wake up.
He wants more than anything, for all of it to be real - even if it means he ends here.
He won’t curse you after death, that way.
He can’t find his voice.
“Me too,” The weight of one thousand deaths, a thousand days of longing and loving and pining. It’s too burdensome to say. He’s afraid of what will happen to him - mind and soul, should he let himself admit what he kept so well-hidden. “I love you. You…”
When he manages to meet your gaze, your eyes are welled up with tears. He panics. “Don’t cry. Sorry,”
“You too. Don’t cry,”
“I’m not—“ His vision blurs. Damn it.
“I love you,” You say again and Megumi feels something inside of him mend. “I’ll say it as many times as you want.”
He doesn’t sense a fever this time. But he braves himself to kiss you one more time. It feels more intense than all else. He kisses you soft and slow, lets himself melt into your affectionate touch and gaze. There’s love behind it so obviously it makes him want to cry. He might really start sobbing, but he’s distracted by your mouth.
He feels boneless, throat tight.
“I don’t feel any fever.” You tell him when you pull away from him. He presses his forehead to yours. “I like kissing you.”
So embarrassing. “Yeah…”
“Let’s make love one more time.” You offer, and Megumi looks at you in disbelief. Just as always, you’re collected but ridiculous. It’s oddly comforting. Megumi wants to believe in you, so he does. “Just one more.”
The fever is no longer there, but the sensitivity is still strong in his body. Your mouths meet in a chorus of affection. Megumi is still hard, somehow. But he can feel everything much more clearly. Can understand the taste of your lips and the feeling of your pussy pulsing - that it’s for him and he feels so elated he wonders if it will ever go away. He kisses you gingerly and lets himself slide out as your hand goes to his nape.
“You’re so good to me, Megumi,” Your words make him ache. A whimper leaves his lips. “My beautiful boy. It must’ve been lonely, huh?”
“Yes,” His words meet a thrust, slow but deep. A communication of needs so raw he can barely show them to you without feeling shy. “So long. Loved you for so long.”
“Me too,” You mutter. The praise pierces his heart, suffocates him in such a euphoric feeling he can’t help but gasp at each reminder. “I love you so much, baby. And we’re gonna get out of here and be together, right?”
He feels his head fill with nothingness. Relief like cold air brushes along his skin. Like being bathed in cool water. You’re his cure - but that’s always been true. “Yeah. Please.”
“You can’t run away, okay?”
“I won’t,”
“Even though I want to monopolize you?”
He blushes but grunts with affirmation following another slow roll of his hips. “I want to be with you. Nothing else matters. A-and I didn’t hate it… or anything.”
You smile at him. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. It’s all he can come up with - watching your eyes crinkle in the corners with nothing but delight. “Mm.” You slide a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit soft as you moan a little. “Sensitive. Gonna cum soon.”
“Me too,”
He’s barely holding it together as is. It takes a little more to push him over the edge one last time. This orgasm feels different. Feels rooted in reality. The mutual pleasure grounds him completely, relieving his ailment despite the remaining hints of fever. He kisses you as he cums inside of you one last time, shuddering as you cum right alongside him. He whispers the words against your lips as you let go. He loves you.
The fever cools down. It takes a while for him to slip away from you after everything, but he manages.
“Sorry,” He mumbles, watching the cum leak out of you in embarrassment. You just laugh, patting his cheek.
“It’s okay, promise.” You stand to your feet as Megumi tries not to be self-conscious about the way it’s dripping down your thigh. “I can’t feel the presence of the Special Grade. It must be watching from somewhere inside the domain.”
“Yeah,” Megumi says, trying to find his clothes.”No idea how the curse broke. Maybe since we’re already curse users?”
You hum noncommittally. “Yeah. Let’s… clean up best we can and get outta here, yeah?”
Megumi smiles, soft and relieved. “Yeah.”
__
“Are you interested in hearing the details of the curse, my dearest Megumi-chan?”
Megumi grimaces.
“No. Why are you even here?”
Gojo-sensei feigns a look of offense that makes Megumi want to strangle him. He wants to go home and bathe properly already but there’s always a lot of hooplah with unregistered special grades. He’s relieved in one sense of the word, though it’s not like Gojo’s appearance made any difference since you two defeated the curse together and promptly passed out.
He woke up clothed, and not as sticky as he was during the fight. Apparently Gojo had found you both first and once you were awake, you cleaned him.
He sits on a tree stump in the forest nearby, his eyes flitting over to to you. You’re debriefing an archivist for Jujutsu when he catches your eye. His heart pounds, blushing at the happiness on your face.
He feels six-eyes on him and glares at Gojo, who’s currently hiding his mouth behind his hand.
“How long have we been out?”
“Mm,” Sensei holds up three fingers. “About three days? I only got here on the third and found you. I was here before, several years ago - for a related case. It took some time, but we fond information of the curse in one of the houses. Are you curious?”
He’s surprised for a minute, groaning right after. “Just tell me.”
“Special Grade Kuroyuri uses a technique called Fever, to induce what’s essentially heat - forcing all parties into extreme physical discomfort that can only be alleviated by sexual contact - no matter the party,” He spouts off, pretending to push his glasses up. Megumi frowns at him. “Fever works by inducing conditions related to inner desires and producing cursed energy that way. However, as a result, should two people experiencing Fever - be capable of sating the others desire deeply, they are able to break free from it. As the condition is vague and difficult to achieve, it’s very rarely met which is what has allowed the domain to get so strong.”
Megumi makes wide eyes. “So you’re saying…”
“Megumi-chan, the stairwell to adulthood and true love saved you! How wonderful!”
Megumi blushes as Gojo giggles, glaring at him. He should kill him someday.
Gojo-sensei pretends to wipe a tear from his eye. “The painful years of pining were worth something Megumi-chan. To think your desires were so pure…”
“Shut up! I’m going to kill you!” Megumi groans, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing. “Do we have any idea why the curse was created?”
“Seems the cult worshipped cursed energy as a measure of human experience. A curse intending to induce more cursed energy as evidence of their belief. Something like that. The details are vague, but we’re still looking.”
Megumi sighs again. “Right. Thanks,”
He puts a hand on his shoulder as Megumi feels the exhaustion tamp down on him. He feels better and embarrassed as you pad over to him after you’re done.
“Megumi-kun,” You smile at him before nodding to Gojo-sensei. He smiles back.
“I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone,”
Megumi shoots one last glare at Gojo before looking towards you. You sit down beside him on the ground, resting your head on his lap in a way that makes his whole body break out into a blush. He’s happy though.
“I love you,”
“What are you saying?”
You look up at him. “Just want to make sure you know.”
He looks down at you from where you lay and frowns. “How could I not?” And then, a little softer. “…It’s mutual.”
You reach a hand towards his as you giggle to yourself. “That’s good.”
Megumi squeezes your hand and closes his eyes. Better than good, maybe.
__
PROLOGUE:
[ SEPTEMBER 4TH, 2018 | 4:45pm]
Megumi waits a while before going into the courtyard, hoping that you’ll move and practice elsewhere if he waits long enough.
He’s been sitting behind the wall for the last half-hour at least. No luck.
He feels bad about avoiding you, but it’s the only course of action he thinks helps both parties.
He doesn’t exactly like you. It’s easier to say he finds it difficult to get used to you is all. Your personality eludes him, and you remind a little too much of Sensei in how you act. Not to mention you’re already so strong. You get along well with everyone else, especially the other first years. You’re a nice girl so it’s obvious Kugisaki-san would favor you, and Itadori-kun can get along with basically everyone.
But you and him have been at odds since your arrival to the Tokyo branch months prior. Megumi can’t figure out how to bridge the gap between you, and finds it hard to force himself to like you. He doesn’t dislike you, either though. It’s not something he can put words too.
He feels guilty about it since you haven’t done anything to him to cause his discomfort. He just… doesn’t know what to do.
Lost in thought, he nearly jumps out of his skin as someone stands over him where he sits, casting shadow on him from above. He opens his eyes to see you standing over him, an unreadable look on his face.
“How long did you plan on waiting here, Fushiguro-san?”
Megumi stares up at you before frowning, rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Sorry for disturbing you.”
You’re hard for him to read, though you’re smiling. You seem amused as you step back, allowing Megumi to stand up at full-height and glance at you.
“I don’t mind. I know you don’t want to train with me, but it’d be kind of pointless to try and find somewhere else so it’s better to just bear with it a bit.”
He stares at you. You smile knowingly.
“You’re surprised I know you were avoiding me?”
He nods.
“No offense Fushiguro-san, but it’s hard not to notice something like that when our grade is four people,” You’re a little smug but it’s not mal-intended, though it kinda pisses him off. “No hard feelings.”
You say that then sit next to him behind the wall. He stares at you feeling more uncomfortable - but can’t will himself to get up.
“What are you doing?”
You smile again.
“Messing with you,”
He stares at you. You stare back until you break out into laugher.
“Pfft, I’m sorry. I really am. You make it so obvious on your face when I make you mad..hah.”
“It’s that part of you I really don’t like.”
“Mm, yeah - thought so.” Your reply is nonplussed but not unkind. “You’re the moody, serious type. Sensitive.”
Megumi watches you shuffle through your deck of cards - the ones you’d been practicing with for the last few hours. You peruse through the thick boards of your Hanafuda deck, silently stacking them into different matching suits and using them with your cursed energy. Megumi watches on as you manifest different thing. He wants to ask you about it but can’t find the wil. You’re so strong, despite how you act. The strongest of the first years even outclassing him.
“It’s fine if you find me hard to be around, but don’t avoid me so blatantly.” You reason coolly. “It’s best we get along.”
“…Do you want me to get along with you?”
You laugh at that but he isn’t sure why. It’s nice.. the sound of your laugh when it’s sincere. This is the first time he’s ever properly talked to you, he realizes.
“Of course! I like getting along with everyone, even someone as brooding as you.”
“Why.”
“It’s good for my public image.” You say seriously. He deadpans as you perk up and laugh again. “Kidding, I’m kidding!”
“I’m going to leave.” He threatens flatly.
“Fine, fine. Do you want to know the real reason?”
“I don’t really care,” He responds. You smile at that.
“I’m more than happy to tell you,” You say, completely ignoring him. “Despite your various character flaws, I think Fushiguro-san is kind of innocent.”
“Huh?”
You smile warmly. “Your philosophy to only save people you think are good I thought was cute. It’s a very simple way to think about jujutsu. I like that part of you, I guess? You were raised with a lot of love, I think. Since it’s a difficult way to live.”
Megumi thinks of his life - thinks of Tsumiki and his sensei with some begrudging. He doesn’t know what else to ask you. He’s a little uncomfortable that you seem to know him so well with the little information you have.
“Why are you a sorcerer then?”
Megumi watches you stack your cards into a card house and collapse them, humming to yourself. You seem deep in thought for a while. The sunlight moves away from the clouds briefly, a beam of line brushing against your skin. Your lashes cast shadow on your cheeks. He’s never seen you so clearly.
You answer with utmost clarity and confidence - all shiny grin. “Ah, well why not, you know? Since I’m super talented.”
He stares at you, dumbfounded before the corners of his lips twitch. Somehow he understands you a little better than before, and he thinks that might’ve been what you wanted.
“You’re an idiot.”
Your grin goes even wider.
“Let’s be good friends, Fushiguro-san. Okay?”
“Sure,” He relaxes his back against the wall and shuts his eyes with a small laugh. “Why not.”

#fics for gaza#writing tag#megumi x reader#megumi smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#megumi fushiguro x reader#megumi fushiguro smut#dubcon cw
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me: yeah I'm pretty close to finishing this fic
the fic:

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A long while ago I got an ask for a writing prompt of Sabo and Deuce interacting and then I wrote half of it and stopped. And then I found it again a few days ago and decided to finish it
#one piece#revolutionary sabo#masked deuce#ace is there in spirit. literally.#haha#anyways#writing tag#it has been so long since I've written and posted anything. whoops
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they need to invent a writing that is easy. and fast also
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"I - I'm sorry for showing up at your station in the middle of the night, I - I should have called, but I knew you had a shift, and I-"
"Didn't want to do this over the phone," Tommy guesses gently, watching as Evan nods, face flickering with recognition.
"...or in a text or something, yeah," he confirms - then he clears his throat, frowning at the ground for a moment. "Look, I - I know that - that maybe I should just... walk away, and - and take no for an answer, and I - I will," he says, and when their eyes meet again, Evan's are glossy with emotion - even from ten feet away. "I promise."
Tommy crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling gently as he waits for Evan to gather his thoughts.
"I know I fucked up by going all... bro-dude on you on our first date," he says, trailing off with a self-deprecating, sad chuckle. Tommy swallows, forcing his feet to stay glued to the concrete flooring. "And you don't wanna deal with that, I get it, I know that you probably didn't sign up for... all of this," he continues - and somehow Tommy has a sinking feeling that he's not only referring to his newly discovered bisexuality. "Didn't sign up for someone who is just... so new at this-"
"-that's not it," Tommy can't help but interrupt - the same way he can't help but take one step closer - and then one more. "Evan, I don't have a problem with being the first man you're with, it just seemed as if you weren't sure that you wanted a man at all, and that's the thing that I'm not sure that I-"
"I - I know that," Evan interrupts him right back, his voice growing thicker, tears seemingly dangerously close to passing his waterline as he takes half a step closer to Tommy, his hands in front of him, frustratingly grasping the air as if the words he wants to say will be somewhere in there. "That's what I came here to say - look, my entire life, I've just been... searching for something, you know? Something that felt right, someplace where I could... belong," he says, forehead decorated with a deep line of frustration. "And then I found it."
"Firefighting," Tommy guesses - and the crease evens out - just a little bit - as the corner of Evan's mouth twitches up.
"Yeah," he nods. "Yeah - and I thought that was it. And - and then I realized that I still felt... wrong? And I - I felt stupid, you know?" he says, tapping the pads of his index and middle finger to his own temple. "'Cause I have a job that I love, people that I love - and I spent so long trying to find the thing that was missing, and I just - I - I had no idea what it was..." he says - and then he straightens up a little bit, swallowing. "...and then you kissed me," he concludes.
Tommy feels himself melt.
This goddamn kid is going to be the death of him, isn't he?
"...and it was like..." Evan brings his hands up in front of himself again, mimicking something like an explosion - but the sound effect he chooses isn't an explosion. It's a sharp, unmistakable, loud exhale.
"That was it," Tommy hums, allowing himself a few steps closer. Evan's eyes remain on his own as he moves, trailing him every single step of the way.
"That was it," Evan confirms. "So if you think that I - that I'm somehow gonna - gonna change my mind, or - or run away, or freak out, or decide that I don't like men, that's never gonna happen," he shakes his head. "I'm - I'm a lot, I know that, I've always been a lot, I don't think I totally know how to be anything different, but Tommy, I am... I'm very, very bi. I like men. And I like y-"
Tommy finds a gentle grasp on his chin, guiding him into a kiss.
Shut up, is what the kiss says. You have me. I'm yours. I got you.
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