what's that? time to get into the ramadan spirit? a JUJUTSU KAISEN x reader . . . featuring gojo satoru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji, && sukuna ryomen
want more halal kaisen? check out my gojo x reader smau ...
yes this was sooo lazy
thinking abt nanami in a black moroccan thobe w a keffiyeh mmhp drool emoji.
written in @sgtsnowie 's dms bc she's the loml everyone say thank u
a/n: i stole this req from @munipe so credit to that anon <3
ask: imagine THISS - saiki with a sleeptalker s/o. has genuinely full blown CONVERSATIONS that make 0 sense. like its just "..are you awake, or asleep?" "i love spicy salami too honey" "???"
ââ â ââ
Saiki Kusuo had done many ridiculous things in his life, but turning himself into a hardcover copy of Advanced Quantum Physics just to sneak past a girlfriendâs overprotective parents had to rank in the top five.
Heâd calculated everything: the parentsâ patrol schedule, the creaking floorboards, the dog that barked at literally nothing. The book disguise worked perfectly â heâd spent two hours on a shelf in the hallway, gathering dust, until the house finally went quiet. Then he reverted to human form, slipped into your room, and closed the door with the softest click possible.
You were already asleep, curled on your side, breathing slow and even. Saiki exhaled (quietly) in relief. Mission success. He could finally relax without worrying about your father bursting in with a baseball bat and holy water.
He sat on the edge of the bed, careful not to shift the mattress too much. Telepathy confirmed you were deep in REM sleep. Good. He could finally cuddle with you like you pleaded (begged) him to. Heâd just wait until morning, then teleport out before anyone woke up.
As he leaned down to lay, you spoke.
âI⊠I wuv spicy sawamiâŠâ
Kusuo froze. Your eyes were still closed. Lips barely moving. Were you sleep-talking? He blinked. ââŠSpicy what?â
No response. Just soft breathing again. He leaned a fraction closer, curiosity overriding his usual policy of minding his own business. âAre you awake, or asleep?â
A pause. Then, dreamily: âThe noodles are plotting⊠with the penguins.â
Saiki stared. He tried telepathy, just in case this was some elaborate prank.
Nothing coherent. Just swirling dream fragments: a bowl of ramen wearing a tuxedo (?), waddling across an iceberg while holding a tiny briefcase. The ramen bowed politely to a penguin in sunglasses. They exchanged suspicious glances.
Saiki pulled back, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Another mumble from you: âNo, Mr. Takoyaki, I wonât betray the council⊠the sauce is sacredâŠâ
He couldnât help it. The corner of his mouth twitched. You rolled onto your back, arms flopping dramatically. âKusu! You canât eat the moon. Even if itâs.. yummy.. cheese⊠mm...â
He pressed his lips together. This was worse than Teruhashiâs inner monologues. Telepathy again: now the dream had shifted to him (pink hair and all) trying to take a bite out of a giant glowing moon while you defended it with a ladle. The moon was crying.
He gave up on telepathy. Clearly it was useless here. Kusuo stared at the ceiling for a long moment. Then, very quietly: âGood grief.â
He lay down beside you â fully clothed, on top of the covers, hands clasped over his stomach like a corpse, resigned to his fate.
Five minutes later: âSaiki⊠the coffee jelly is evolving⊠itâs learning to speak French⊠oui oui oui⊠wiwiwwiwiwwiiââ
pairings: aged up megumi fushiguro x f!reader, aged up yuuji itadori x f!reader, aged up megumi fushiguro x yuuji itadori x f!reader
summary: Something is changing. He can feel it. He pretends he doesnât catch the way you and Yuuji look at each other as you pull away. Shy in a new way. In the way of puppy love and sugar-soft crushes. He pretends he doesnât catch the way Yuujiâs eyes are lingering on you, all star struck and moony. And Megumi pretends his heart doesnât twist painfully in the pit of his chest. (Hanahaki disease, pining, unrequited then requited love, angst with a happy ending.)
wc: 20k
warnings: hanahaki disease so blood, vomiting, slight gore, illness, and slight body horror. smut, a smidge of voyeurism, a smidge of shame in regards to sex/desire, three-way, unprotected sex, oral sex (m to f), a smidge of cum play/eating. let me know if i missed anything!
if you are under 18 you should not be reading or interacting with this!
a/n: hi guys!! this is actually for @suedebunn April Shower's Collab! it's a month late because my life got hectic but better late than never! i really liked writing this and hanahaki disease despite it taking me forever to finish! i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think!!
â playlist for this fic!
read on ao3
***
The sky is endlessly blue.
A bee meanders past Megumi, he can hear itâs soft buzzing as it flits by him, curious and bumbling. The grass is feathery and soft beneath him. He lets his fingers drift through it, carding carefully along itâs green roots. His rough and scarred hands are surprisingly gentle. The longer pieces tickle his cheeks.
The wildflowers cradle him.
Birdsong is sweet and melodic, singing a tune that reminds him of past summers, with honeyed rays and warmth.
A breeze ruffles his hair.
His eyes flutter shut. Peace is rare for him, for all of you.
You all barely made it through high school in one piece. And even now, being full fledged sorcerers still brings so much danger. Itâs always a gamble, a knifeâs edge away from death or certain disaster.
Itâs a miracle, Megumi realizes, to have this. To have Yuuji and Nobara and you laying in the grass with him now, breathing softly and enjoying the early summer afternoon.
Youâre all in a circle, heads at the center.
It was upon your insistence that the four of you slipped away to this sea of wildflowers and tall grass. Itâs usually you Megumi has to thank for moments like this. You are determined to still be young, to still be in love with the world despite everything.
Begrudgingly, he admires that in you. And heâd say he wants to protect it, keep that part of you safe and untouched, but he doesnât need to. You have seen every horrible thing he has and still come out of it with a brightness that doesnât dim.
Itâs fitting, really, with your cursed technique.
You nudge him now, gently, and whisper, âI think Yuuji fell asleep.â
You turn your head to the side to look at Yuuji sleeping in the grass and Megumi takes a moment to admire the slope of your nose, the line of your jaw, the exposed skin of your throat in the warm sun.
Just as you said, Yuuji is snoring peacefully.
You look back to Megumi with an impish smile, a giggle like twinkling bells falling from you easily. You bring your hand to your lips to stifle the noise and Megumi has the urge to take them in his, to draw them away to hear more of the sound.
This gets Nobaraâs attention, though, and she sits up, peering to look at Yuuji, too.
She snorts at his slack jaw, the way heâs almost snoring.
âWe should leave him here so when he wakes up, he has no idea where weâve gone.â Nobara suggests and Megumi can hear the mischievous tilt of her lips.
You sit up now, too, and Megumiâs eyes follow you. There is grass and flowers caught in your hair. The sunlight turns you brilliant and molten; you belong in it. It belongs to you.
You cast him in your shadow.
(He doesnât know itâ but you think he looks good in that velvet darkness, the slip of shadow that falls over him to soften up his features, to turn his eyes endlessly dark.)
âThat isnât very nice, Nobara,â you scold, but itâs with amusement. And then, âwe should put flowers on him and see how long it takes for him to wake up.â
Megumi finally eases himself up now, too.
He can feel his cheeks growing pink with a sunburn. He shouldâve worn that sunscreen you told him to. Or the fancy one Nobara so graciously offered him.
âDoesnât he have allergies?â Megumi finally speaks up.
Nobara snorts, âLoser. Câmon, I bet we can cover him in them.â
And just like that sheâs pulling at the flowers around her. You follow suit, giggling as you begin to set them along his collar bones, in the crux of his neck.
Megumi gives in and gently sets a few on his chest. One he slides into the messy tuft of his pink hair. The petals are white and blue against the rosy color.
His tanned skin in the summer light is beginning to grow freckled and sun kissed. And with all the flowers piling up on himâYuuji is a deep sleeper, Megumi doubts heâll wake any time soonâhe looks a little otherworldly.
Well, he always has, hasnât he?
You start putting the flowers on his cheeks, biting back your laughter when he doesnât even twitch. Nobara tangles some more in his hair, along his ears. The sun warms Megumiâs shoulders as he watches Yuuji fill up with flowers, blanketing him in them. You and Nobara laugh and giggle the whole time.
Especially when Yuuji finally snorts a little, before waking himself and sitting up so fast he almost takes out Nobara.
âWatch it, idiot!â
Flowers and petals go flying. Pink and pale blue and lilac and red float around the four of you.
Yuuji is confusedâ the kind of disgruntlement that comes from a deep nap. His brows are pinched, a strange little pout on his lips that Megumi lingers on a moment too long.
And then he sneezes, more petals shaking free from him.
Your laugh is melodic, as sweet as the songbirds. Yuuji sneezes again, which makes Nobara start to laugh, too. And then he sniffles, âUhâwhat happened?â
His nose is twitching a great deal, rubbing at his eyes both with sleep and Megumi assumes are his allergies.
Another sneeze has you cooing over Yuuji, throwing your arms around his neck and laughing more as you try to comfort him.
Megumi watches Yuujiâs face as it morphs from surprised to a sudden, excited flush of pink. Eagerly, he snakes an arm around you, too, pulling you closer.
It isnât unnaturalâyou're very affectionate with all of them. Certainly the most affectionate of the four of them.
But this does something strange to Megumiâs chest, watching the way Yuujiâs broad and scarred palms fit around the curve of your waist, your torso.
Something is changing. He can feel it. He pretends he doesnât catch the way you and Yuuji look at each other as you pull away. Shy in a new way. In the way of puppy love and sugar-soft crushes. He pretends he doesnât catch the way Yuujiâs eyes are lingering on you, all star struck and moony.
And Megumi pretends his heart doesnât twist painfully in the pit of his chest.
Nobara wants to race back, excluding Yuuji, since it isnât fair.
Megumi declares heâs not running, so itâs just you and Nobara.
You both take off through the field on Yuujiâs countdown. Megumi watches your silhouettes spread out against the hazy blue horizon, and watches as you reach for Nobara with seeking hands. Your breathless laughter carries back to him.
Yuuji is watching the two of you with a fond expression, nearly melting the moment he hears your laughter fall back to them. Megumi almost looks away, as if heâd caught Yuuji in a compromising moment. As if heâd seen something he shouldnât.
But then Yuuji says, âFushiguro, can I tell you something?â
Yuuji looks at him far too earnestly. He always has.
Megumi would usually drawl out something like, youâre going to tell me regardless, arenât you?
He would act unimpressed and irritated.
But for whatever reason, with the tone of Yuujiâs voice and the color of the sky, your laughter high on the wind, Megumi can only find it in himself to say, âsure.â
Yuuji says your name and there is something so hopeful in it, something so pure and blooming. âI think Iââ
Yuuji looks back out at you and Nobara, distant figures now.
âI think I like her, you know?â
Megumi would laugh or roll his eyes if he didnât feel his stomach twist up into knots. Itâs such a childish thing to say. And youâre all adults now butâ but still young.
You were kids together.
Itâs childish but perhaps fitting. Itâs strangely innocent, which perhaps makes it even more honest.
âLike more than a friend,â Yuuji explains, and Megumi has to force himself to nod a little in understanding. He has to force himself to keep a neutral face.
âWhich is strange because sheâs always been here. And weâve always been friends butâI guess somethingâs changed.â Yuuji tries to explain, looking back out at you with that fond look on his face again.
Megumi looks away.
âDo you think itâsâI mean, I donât want to ruin our friendship. Do you think itâd be bad, if I asked her out or something?â Yuuji asks, his tawny eyes getting caught in the sun. It turns them molten and bright, seeking Megumi's opinion. Maybe his approval. Itâs almost painful, the way Yuuji is looking at him.
Yuuji trusts him so deeply, respects him so much.
Megumi wants to tell him, yeah, I donât think itâd be a good idea. Not because he believes that, but rather, because heâs selfish. Because his heart is beginning to blossom into a bruise at the idea of you and Yuuji being together.
He knows Yuuji would listen to him, too.
He thinks of the way youâd both looked at each other, he thinks of Yuujiâs hands on you andâ
âI donât think itâd be bad.â Megumi says and perhaps his voice is softer than he intended, carried on the summer breeze.
A smile as bright as the sun lights up Yuujiâs face, âNo? You donât think so?â He asks excitedly, âDo you think sheâll say yes?â
Megumi feels his heart splinter, a lump threatening to form in his throat. He thinks of how youâd looked at Yuujiâ
It was the same way Megumi looked at you. Too tender, full of a little too much longing.
âYeah, Itadori, I think sheâll say yes.â
Itadori tells him heâs such a good friend. He throws his arm around Megumi, his biceps flexing, pulling Megumi in close to him.
Megumi pretends to be annoyed, and tries to squirm away half-heartedly.
But heâs never really wanted to push Yuuji away. Heâs always liked his spot beside him, maybe a little too close, maybe beneath his arm.
He watches Yuuji chase after you as you all get closer to the dorms. Nobara trails beside him now. You shriek in joy and laughter when Yuuji catches you, lifts you clear off the ground to twirl you. The sky grows plum and blue, sweet looking, especially with you and Yuuji against it. There are still petals caught in your hair, on your clothes.
You and Yuuji are summer kissed, made for the sun.
Megumi likes the dusk, the shadow, the dark.
When youâre all back at the dormâ
(Which none of you can quite leave yet despite graduating, though Nobara is looking at apartments in Tokyo. Sheâs determined to get out, but also reluctant to part from you all. He thinks heâs scared to leave you, too. And you cling desperately to them, to being young.)
You rock up onto your toes and press a playful, farewell kiss goodnight to Yuujiâs cheek. Megumi watches a charming blush rush across his face. And then you turn brilliant eyes on Megumi, your smile impish and so lovely it hurts.
âCâmere, you get one, too,â you murmur, your small hand tangling in the front of his shirt, pulling him down as you push back onto your tippy toes.
Your lips are soft and gentle when they land on his cheek, near the corner of his lips.
Itâs Megumiâs turn to blush now, he can feel it prickle his cheeks.
Nobara snickers, which only makes his blush worse.
âGoodnight, boys,â you sigh, before turning back to Nobara and throwing your arm around her, âletâs go, Nobara,â you yawn, letting your head fall onto her shoulder, ââm tired.â
âGoodnight,â Yuuji calls after you faintly, a little wistful.
Nobara gives a dismissive wave as she leads you away. He knows you hate sleeping alone. Youâll sleep pressed to Nobaraâs side, like you do most nights.
(And when Nobaraâs gone, you come to Megumi or Yuujiâs door, beg for them to watch movies with you all night and fall asleep on the couch. He knows youâ)
ââNight, Fushiguro.â Yuuji then says, sweet and chipper. âSee you tomorrow!â
Yuuji then knocks a shoulder into the door of his own dorm, falls into his room with a dreamy smile. Megumi watches as the door falls shut, locking him out.
âGoodnight, Itadori,â he mutters, letâs out a harsh breath that heâd been keeping in the whole night.
Without the group, he feels bereft. Suddenly lonely. Pain blossoms in the pit of his chest, a slow ache that spreads its lampshade wings inside of him.
He turns and disappears into his own room. He readies for bed.
Thereâs a tickle in his throat. He drinks water. He gets into bed with a needlessly heavy heart.
He coughs, tries to clear his throat, but something comes up, right into the palm of his hand.
A blue petalâslick and damp with spit, a little blood. Bruised with dark red, the light blue a sharp contrast.
For a moment, he has the absurd notion that he swallowed a flower today. Did he fall asleep, too? Did you cover him in flowers?
No, he frowns, feeling something horrible and tremendous take root inside of him, no, youâd done that to Yuuji.
Because you look at Yuuji with all that shy love, not him. Because Yuuji looks at you with all that tenderness, not him.
Megumi washes his hands of it. He drops into bed. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of anything, anything other than you and Yuuji and those pretty, pretty flowers.
***
Yuuji begs for Megumiâs help to ask you out.
âWhat should I do?â Yuuji paces the length of Megumiâs dorm again, pulling at his hair. Megumi wants to still his hand, he wants to draw it away. Instead, his dark eyes only follow the movement.
âJust ask if she wants to get dinner.â Megumi says plainly, feeling unfairly irritated, perhaps prickling with a sort of sadness that he wishes he could pry inside of himself and rip out.
He feels like hugging his pillow, tucking his face into his blankets and hiding. He feels like being cold and mean, lashing out because heâs hurting. He doesnât want to tell Yuuji what he would do, if it was him asking you out. He doesnât want to give Yuuji good ideas.
Itâs so selfish of him.
Heâs terrible.
Itâs why heâs not the one asking you out, he thinks. Yuuji is golden-hearted and infinitely kind, made for your light and brightness. Megumi is not.
But Yuuji looks so helpless when he asks, âbut what if she thinks I mean as a friend still?â
Megumi sighs lightly.
He clears his throat, now tight, âyou could just tell her how you feel.â
âIs that what you would do? If you were the one who liked her?â Yuuji suddenly prompts.
Megumi feels his heart give a painful lurch. He almost winces.
He considers just saying yeah, sure, I guess. He considers being dismissive.
âIâd get her a gift,â Megumi replies, and his voice is almost hushed, a little too honest, âsomething small but nice. And Iâdââ he pauses to make sure his voice is safe from wavering, âIâd tell her how I feel.â
When Megumiâs eyes cross to Yuujiâs, he realizes Yuujiâs looking at him a little surprised. Thereâs something raw in the widening of his eyes. Megumi feels suddenly like heâs admitted too much, like heâs done something horrible. Should he flee? Should he apologize? He shies away from Yuujiâs gaze.
âFushiguro, thatâs surprisingly romantic!â Yuuji then exclaims, his face lighting up, âwho knew you were such a casanova?â
âTch,â Megumi scoffs, âhardly.â
Yuuji takes a seat beside Megumi on his bed, eager and buzzing, âwill you help me pick out a gift for her?â
His eyes are so hopeful, so sweet.
Megumi tries to swallow around the horrible thing budding in his throat, âyeah, sure, I can help.â
âYouâre the best!â Yuuji shouts, throwing his arm around Megumi once more. Megumi tries to nudge him away, and tries to duck from beneath his arm, but Yuuji holds fast, squeezing him tight as he laughs happily.
Itâs a sweet sound, almost pressed into the nape of Megumiâs neck.
He remembers it later, when he coughs, harder and harder, until a small, broken stem of blue-slippered flowers tears from his tender throat.
He stares at it, wide-eyed and undeniable.
Bluebells. Horrible, horrible bluebells.
***
Megumi keeps his predicament to himself. He is exceedingly careful not to let on that anything is wrong with him. He canât have you or Yuuji finding out especiallyâhe doesnât want to ruin anything for either of you two.
He knows if Yuuji discovered Megumiâs feelings for you, he would immediately give up pursuing you. He would put his own feelings to the side so Megumi could be happy.
And Megumi wouldnât be able to live with himself if he let that happen.
But he doesnât know if this pain in his chest is worth it as he watches Yuuji approach you. Your silhouettes ease towards each other in the distance. He can tell Yuuji is nervous.
Nobara stands beside Megumi, watching from afar.
âWhat do you think about all this?â She asks, hand on her hip, scrutinizing gaze zeroed in on the two of you.
âItâs fine, I guess,â Megumi answers plainly, but then he makes the mistake of saying, âI donât care.â
Thereâs a catch in his voice. A piercing jab in the space between his ribs.
That sharp gaze of Nobaraâs cuts to him now, pins him in place.
She studies him for a long moment. Megumi squirms.
âI donât believe you,â she decides.
âYou donât have to,â Megumi sighs, trying for disinterest, perpetually annoyed.
Your bubbling laugh springs out from you happily and Megumiâs gaze is instantly drawn to you. Yuuji has offered you the giftâa necklace Megumi helped him pick out.
Itâs simple, nothing overwhelming or too extravagant. A thin, gold chain, with a gold sun pendant attached. Megumi imagines itâll lay on your collar bones. He imagines slipping it onto you, fastening it at the nape of your neck, needing to brush stray hairs with careful fingers.
âWhy didnât you say anything?â Nobara asks and genuinely, she seems perplexed.
âThereâs nothing to say,â Megumi immediately responds.
And then he coughs, something caught in his throat, as if it disagrees.
Megumi watches as you turn away from Yuuji, as he does what Megumi was just daydreaming aboutâslipping the necklace onto you, fastening it in place. He watches the shadow of your silhouette fiddle with it.
It rests at your collar bones.
You turn around to face Yuuji and excitedly throw your arms around him, planting a kiss or two on his cheek.
He hears Yuujiâs joyful laugh now, too.
He watches Yuuji wrap broad arms around you, squeeze tight and lift you a little off the ground. Itâs all playful, all a little too sweet.
âWhatever,â Nobara responds, âsuffer in silence, then. Youâll choke on all that noble humility eventually. And who are you going to come running to when you do? Me. Then Iâm going to sayââ
He could laugh, if she even knew the half of it.
âAre you done?â Megumi asks, feeling his stomach turn.
She sniffs and tilts her chin up, âjust know that Iâm not mature enough to hold back my âI told you so.â No matter how upset you are when you finally come to me!â
Megumiâs lips lift into a sad, wry smile.
His eyes fan back out to you and Yuuji, watching as he sets you down, listening to the sounds of your giggles drift down to meet him. Always heard at a distance, never close like Yuuji.
He feels something inevitable tangle around the curve of his ribcage.
âI know, Kugisaki.â
***
Megumi watches as you try on dress after pretty dress. Heâs in your dorm room, averting his gaze dutifully every time you peel one off to put on another.
Usually this is Nobaraâs jobâto sit here and decide what you should wear for your date with Yuuji, how you look, what the dress is saying about you or whatever.
But Nobara is on a brief mission. She should be back tomorrow but your date with Yuuji is tonight.
You huff, suddenly shimmying out of another and Megumi is quick to let his eyes fling up to the ceiling.
He tries not to linger on the fact that heâd caught a little more than he shouldâve, the reflection of you in the mirror so pretty.
Nudity hasnât been an issue in years for the four of you. Not after so many missions where heâs had to peel shirts or pants off for injuriesâor the one where he and Yuuji nearly froze to death in wet clothes, so theyâd stripped fully naked and had to sleep beside each other.
Itâd been a strange night, that was for sure.
But regardless, youâd all become too close (to death, to each other) to care about changing in front of one another.
Megumi is still the shyestâYuuji and Nobara care very little and will strip whenever they please. Youâre somewhere in the middle, laughing nervously when they do that, but not scared enough to make Megumi leave the room or even turn around with each change of clothes.
Megumi is trying to be very, very careful with you now, but his cheeks feel permanently rosy.
You ease into another sundress, this one peach and dainty looking. Ruffled on the skirt. You turn this way and that in the mirror, then you turn towards Megumi.
âWhat do you think?â
Megumi hates this question.
What he really thinks is that you look stunning in all of them, that this last hour has been near torture for him, every time you turn around with mused hair and a pretty dress clinging to you. He thinks he wants to be the one to zip them up, to take them off of you, tooâ
He clears his dry throat.
âIt looks really nice.â
Youâre looking for more of an answer, he can tell, âDo you think Yuuji would like it?â
âYuuji would like you in a brown paper bag.â Megumi responds automatically and itâs true. He knows itâs true. Something inside his chest tightens.
âMegumi,â you whine and he feels the tips of his ears go red, âgive me something here. Nobara would tell me what sort of message itâs sending. And youâre a boy and also Yuujiâs best friend. Donât you guys talk about this stuff?â
In truth, all Yuujiâs talked about lately is you. But Megumi doesnât really want to hear about what kind of clothes Yuuji likes you in, desires of those sort make him feel sick, make the ache in him grow fierce and worse.
(They make heat flood him in the worst of ways, too, imagining Yuuji chasing after your pretty skirts. Fitting his big hands around your waist, skimming them up your thighs beneath that skirtâ
Megumi feels suddenly feverish. A little woozy.
Thereâs something so fucking wrong with him.)
âUm,â Megumi swallows, letting his eyes glance over your body in the dress. Itâs sweet, the neckline higher, but maybe a little simple. He thinks Nobara would call it boring. He swallows, âwhat sort of message do you want it to send?â
âA little flirty, maybe. I want him toâI donât know, I want to tease him a little.â He can practically feel the way your cheeks light up with warmth, too. And for a moment, the two of you look a little too bright eyed and flustered at each other.
âI-I donât knowââ
âI mean, youâre still a guy, Megumi. What would you think fits that, then?â
Megumi canât decide if this is better or worse. Worse maybe, with the way his heart is pounding and how he feels the pink flush of his cheeks darken. He doesnât like the idea of revealing this to you, what heâd like you in, what he wouldnât be able to stop thinking about you in, what one wouldnât keep his hands off youâ
He tries to slam the door on all those thoughts.
But you asked him. And now youâre flustered, too.
A really quiet, horrible part of Megumi also realizes that youâd then wear the dress he picked out for you, on your date with Yuuji. Something in his gut twists, lurches, at the idea.
He lets out a shaky breath.
âDo you still have that blue one?â He asks softly, his voice a quiet rasp.
You perk up a little, tilting your head, âthe light blue one?â
Megumi swallows, nodding his head a little too solemnly.
You turn back to your closet for a moment, digging through fabric, before pulling out the very one Megumi was talking about. You reach for the zipper at the back of the dress you have on, tug at it a little, but it doesnât budge. It must be caught.
You peek over your shoulder at him and he admires the curve of your shoulder, the lovely profile of your face, âwill you help me?â
Megumi stops breathing. His fingers tighten in the material of his pants.
But he forces himself to move from the edge of your bed. He walks over to you, still standing in front of your full length mirror. He can feel the nebulous squeeze of his heart, can feel the way his insides twist up, like a vine curling around his tender organs, the fragile cage of his ribs.
He is careful not to meet your gaze in the mirrorâhe doesnât want to see what he looks like behind you, the curve of your back in the cradle of his chest. He doesnât want to see what it might look like to undress you, to know you in this way.
His fingers are long and gentle, careful as they move to take the zipper in hand. He gently tugs, unsticking it, letting it glide down your spine. He watches as more skin gets revealed to him.
His knuckles brush against your lower back.
You let the dress fall from your shoulders, pool around your feet in a bundle of rosy peach.
Megumi looks off to the side, steps away to give you space.
After a moment, he hears the soft call of your voice, âMegumi?â
You say his name so sweetly, sugar soft, ready to gut him. To devastate him. He feels the unfurling in his stomach, the pain of something growing, blooming horribly.
âWill you tie this for me?â you ask and he finally forces himself to look at you.
The light blue dress is wrapped around you, hugged to the curve of your body. Youâre holding the two ribbons of silk in place that will tie the dress to you. Itâs short, skimming the tops of your thighs. The skirt lays pretty, flutters a littleâhe wants to feel it catch beneath his palms.
Megumi eases back towards you, takes the ribbons between his hands. He loops them together, ties it tight, and wonders if itâll be Yuujiâs hands who untie it later.
And then he does something selfish, something heâs always wantedâhe sets his broad hands along your waist, smooths the fabric down a little.
âThere,â he murmurs and picks his eyes up to find yours in the mirror.
Oh, and itâs horrible.
You look so pretty in his hands, standing in front of him.
Youâre looking at him a little surprised, lips parted, eyes wide. Youâre looking at him like youâre seeing him for the first time again, seeing a whole new part of him and Megumi wonders briefly if you somehow know, if you caught the scent of bluebells. He wonders if theyâll creep up his throat to try and get to your light.
The necklace Yuuji gave youâthe one Megumi picked outârests on your collar bones. The gold sun stands proud against your skin. It looks nice with the blue dress, like the sky on a cloudless day.
And before he can lose his courage, he rasps, âyou look beautiful.â
Youâre still looking at him in the reflection of the mirror and he watches as your eyes glance down to where his hands are, how his fingers bend to the contour of your body.
âThank you,â you say and he thinks itâs breathier than you intended. He doesnât want to think about it, but he knows he will.
He lifts his hands from you reluctantly.
âI should go,â Megumi says and he tries to keep any dismay from his voice, âIâm sure Yuuji will want my help, too.â
You swallow, nodding, as if remembering, as if jolting yourself back to reality.
âOf course,â you laugh, but itâs nervous, unsure. Then you turn round eyes on him, almost pleading, âIâll see you later, then?â
Megumi nods, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat, âyeah, see you later. Have fun tonight.â
You open your mouth to say something more, but Megumi turns away. He canât stay. He canât stand to see you more, to watch you get ready for a date with someone that isnât him. Itâs horrible, itâs so selfish of him, but he just canât stomach it.
He doesnât go find Yuuji.
He rushes to his own room, throws open the bathroom door and dry heaves into the toilet. His whole body spasms, trying to force something outâ
He starts to choke on it, the long stem, gagging and gasping for breath around it. His chest heaves desperately, fighting for air, for reliefâ
He wretches until enough of it comes out his mouth, the damp, blue petals clinging to his lips. He grabs for the stem, does the worst thing possible and pulls on it to try and get it out.
He feels it connected to something deep in him, rooted in a horrifying way, feels pain lance up his poor throat, feels the way the stem tears it up. He pulls again, desperate to get it out, pulls until he feels a snap and then it gives, forcing its way up his throat.
He gags again, eyes watery, heart pounding. He tries to swallow, tries to breathe.
The stem in his hand is just that; no roots, nothing substantial. Just bloody, bell flowers clinging to his open palm, to his chin, his swollen bottom lip.
He slumps over finally, trembling, feeling the burn of tears.
He spends his night sick, throwing up spare petals, retching up leaves and stems of plants. Blood and mucus and membrane comes up, too, slicks his mouth, his chin. Heâs miserable, heâs aching, and all he can think about is the look on your face, your pretty dress. The color of bluebells. Yuujiâs hands.
Yuuji kisses you that night with no blood or petals on his lips, aching, his warm hands on the curve of your waist, right where Megumiâs had been, like heâd found the phantom indents on you. Like his hands sought Megumiâs, too.
Twin touches that make you gasp, that make you ache just as bad, too.
***
There is an afternoon that the four of you spend training. Gojo watches, seemingly disinterested or casual, but Megumi knows better.
Itâs always been good for him to fight against you; your technique is his opposite. It allows you to create powerful bursts of light, like sunbeams that can cut through curses and his shadows in an instant. When Gojo had first introduced the two of you, heâd been thrilled, almost jittery with the need to see the two of you in action against each other, with each other.
(Gojo hadnât been the only one interested in your interactions at the time, Sukuna had taken great interest, too.)
Over the years, youâd found ways to compliment each other well. Light creates more shadow. You move easily with each other, a naturality when you fall into each otherâs orbit, like the moon and the sun.
Though, today, youâd kicked his ass every single time.
He had yielded easily to you, went down quick and hard.
He hadnât felt well and then youâd skipped after Yuuji at the end of it all, tucked yourself up against his side, snug and happy as could be.
Heâd thrown up, when heâd been alone.
Or thought heâd been alone.
Gojo had popped up over his shoulder, peering at the mess of it all.
âUh oh,â he says now, a little too lightly, almost singing it, âHanahaki disease. Thatâs not good.â
Not good like itâs a cold and not something that will kill Megumi.
âNo shit,â Megumi spits, then wipes at his chin with the back of his hand.
âAnd bluebells, too, huh? Bit of a shy flower. But enduring and humble.â Gojo says, tilting his head before a smile splits across his face, âsay, thatâs very fitting for you, Megumi!â
He pats Megumi on the back, jostling him, making Megumi cough a little more. He grits his teeth, tries to stay silent. But after a moment, Gojo ruins it again.
âI had that once.â He says casually.
Megumi whips his head to the side so hard he nearly gives himself whiplash.
âWhat?â He snaps, desperate suddenly for relief, for an answer, for Gojoâs help, like heâs still a child, âWhat did youâ how did you get rid of it?â
Gojo leans away, shoving his hands into his pockets.
If this is a sore subject for him, he doesnât seem to convey it. Though Megumi doesnât think heâd ever be able to tell what goes on inside of Gojoâs head, something so mysterious and distant about him. He always thinks of lone figures when he thinks of Gojo; a lighthouse, a bolt of lightning, the sun without a moon.
All he ends up saying before he leaves is;
âYou should talk to Shoko, she knows how to handle it.â
But the answer feels hollow to Megumi and he wonders if Gojo feels hollow somewhere inside him, too, where all that love was taken out.
***
Megumi watches you and Yuuji fall in love. The summer is high and ripe, so hot and vivid, the crush of color blurring before his eyes. He watches you swing your hands with Yuuji happily, brushing up against his side. He watches Yuuji slip an arm around your waist. He watches from afar, always, never quite close enough to either of you two.
Nobara notices the way Megumi forces himself to glance awayâwhenever you and Yuuji grow too obvious in your affection, she snaps at the pair of you.
âGross! I donât want to see Itadori slobbering all over you!â sheâll complain but Megumi thinks she doesnât actually mind, rather, she does it for his sake.
âI donât slobber on her!â Yuuji always protests.
âWhatever. Keep that lovey-dovey shit away from me.â
âIâm gonna say the same thing about you and Maki next time!â
An argument usually ensues at this point between them. Which feels refreshingly normal. Especially when you look at Megumi, pretending to be exasperated with them. Itâs always been this way, the two of you sharing glances over their arguing. Comradery in listening to them for so many years.
He rolls his eyes at them, if only to watch you hide a giggle behind your hand.
His heart swells at the sound.
Thereâs a night when you show up for movies in one of Megumiâs hoodies. Megumi does a double take on you only to realizeâyes, thatâs his. The sleeves are too long on you. Itâs a midnight blue, soft and worn. Heâs had it for years.
Before he can think, he blurts out, âthatâs mine.â
You blink up at him owlishly, lifting your hands as if to inspect the sleeves that dwarf them. Itâs threadbare, unraveling like his heart the longer he looks at you in his clothes.
âIt was in Yuujiâs closet,â you respond, âI didnât knowââ
âOh,â Megumi breathes, remembering now how he lent it to Yuuji some time ago. He remembers the night he gave it to him. They were traveling home from a mission together, weary and exhausted. Yuuji hadnât been feeling well, chilled and achy, feverish with curse or flu, they hadnât known. But Megumi had offered him the sweatshirt off his back, and watched as Yuuji wriggled into it. Heâd watched as Yuuji flipped up the hood and sunken into its warmth, leftover from Megumi, given from him to the other.
Heâd curled up into it, let his head tilt towards Megumi, side pressed to his, and fallen asleep.
And now here you are, wrapped up in it.
Does it smell like Yuuji? Like him? Does Yuuji still wear it? How often?
âDo you want it back?â You ask him earnestly, shifting like you might pull to lift it off.
âNo,â Megumi decides, his heart being tugged at, twisted up with roots, spasming painfully, âitâs fine, really.â
Megumi sits in the center of the couch that night, with Yuuji laid out on his back on one end, legs propped up onto Megumiâs lap and tangled with Nobaraâs, who claimed the other side of the couch for herself, curled in on her side. You sleep peacefully on Yuujiâs chest, fallen asleep early into the movie marathon.
And when itâs late and dark, Megumi glances at the two of you, at Yuujiâs fluttering lashes as he fights to stay awake. The soft rise and fall of your back, your face tucked into Yuujiâs neck. Megumi notices Yuujiâs hand, which is beneath your (his) hoodie, laid against warm skin. He wishes it was his.
(His hand at your back or his back at Yuujiâs hand, he canât say.)
He feels sick with it allâthe silent wanting, the desperate growth of his heart, the flower that bends shyly, never to speak up, the gnawing of his love on the insides of him.
When both you and Yuuji are asleep, Nobara nudges Megumi's thigh with her foot.
âLetâs go for a walk.â She says, sitting up.
Megumi is about to protest, but she is already up, grabbing at her shoes. Sheâs clumsy from sleep, too. He doesnât know why sheâs doing thisâ
But the moment theyâre out, breathing in the balmy night air, under a sky full of wayward stars, she says, âyou know, I never pegged you for such a masochist.â
âWhat are you talking about?â he asks, perhaps harsher than he shouldâve.
She only sends him a half-hearted glare.
âYou shouldâve said something, when I told you to.â
âThereâs nothing to say.â Megumi repeats.
But his voice catches, something fragile tucked away in the corners.
âAlright, fine. Thereâs nothing to say, then.â Nobara rolls her eyes, wrapping her arms around her middle as a summer breeze eases past them. The trees shake with it. So does Megumi.
He walks in silence with her. She only leads him back to the dorms when his shoulders have relaxed, when his scowl has lessened. You and Yuuji are still fast asleep on his couch. Nobara goes to sleep in her own bed.
Megumi drapes a blanket over you and Yuuji, gently tucks you both in. Heâs careful not to disturb you. He turns off the movie still playing absently in the background. He shuts off the lights and falls into his own bed.
But when he dreams that night in colors of poppy and pale blue, itâs all of you, you, you. Massive, bowed bluebells provide you shade, pretty vines curling along the lines of your legs. The sun is a starburst flare of light against your skin.
Yuuji tells him to go to you, sitting in the sun, with all those dancing vines. His smile is lopsided, encouraging. Megumi stumbles to you on uncertain legs, fawn-soft and terrified.
You let him fall into your open arms.
âMegumi,â you sigh, easing into his lap. The weight of you on his thighs, in his arms, more than he can bear.
You kiss him, just a brushing of your lips to his. Youâre sun warm, almost sleepy. âMegumi, will you tell me?â you ask, but when you pull away to look at him, your lips are stained poppy red, slick and shiny.
He reaches out, touching your lips with his thumb. He canât speak.
You scatter bloody kisses to his jaw, to his throat, like red petals against his pale skin. âCâmon, say it, Megumi, please?â you whisper.
And then itâs Yuuji at his back, voice soft and coaxing, sweet against the nape of his neck, âitâs okay, you can say it.â
Megumi tries to ask, tries to speak, but his throat tightens up. Blood falls from his bruised lips. Heâs being strangled from the inside. Heâs choking on all of it, on the blood in his mouth, souring the words he wishes he could say.
You kiss him again, harder, more desperate, âjust say it, Megumi, itâs okayâ câmon, please? Please?â you beg desperately.
Yuujiâs hand is on his naked back, over one of the silver scars that lances across the expanse of his skin. He thinks Yuuji was there when he got it, too.
Youâre crying now, grasping at him as he chokes. âMegumi, pleaseââ
He coughs wetly, spitting up crimson onto your chest, your neck. Now itâs you who's covered in petals, blossomed coral and crimson and lilac blue.
He slumps into you, face buried in the crook of your neck as you hold him. As Yuuji tries to soothe him.
Thereâs plenty to say, but no way for him to get it out, not with the vine in his throat, the bluebell hooked and pressed to the meat of his tongue.
He wakes late in the morning. He comes down with a fever.
Yuuji makes him soup. He tries to coax him into eating while you lay a pack of ice to his brow, carefully brushing his unruly hair from his dampened forehead.
His fever spikes.
And he can hardly speak, not with so much to be said.
***
Megumi can't sleep.
He hasnât been sleeping well lately, fitfully trying to get comfortable, hugging pillows and nudging his face into their softness like that might soothe him. But nothing works. The night is filled with the chirp of crickets, the quiet hum of the city not far off. It should lull him to sleep.
But he tosses and turns, bleary eyed and frustrated.
He can hear footsteps in the hallway.
And then the familiar voices of you and Yuuji.
Megumi can hear you two stumble in late to Yuujiâs dorm next door. The walls are unfortunately thin. And the night is too quiet. And Megumi is too awake, wide-eyed and heart now turning ragged and quick, jumping like a spooked rabbit.
He can hear your excited giggling, your gasp of Yuujiâs name and the muted creak of his bed.
Megumi imagines Yuuji tossing you into it. Covering you. Yuujiâs broad and strong, heâd almost shroud youâ
He squeezes his eyes shut sharply.
He knows Yuujiâs bed shares a wall with his own. He knows all that separates him from the two of you is a thin wall. He knows he wonât survive this. He prays you two will go to sleep, that itâll be silent once more.
And it is quiet, almost uncomfortably so before Megumi hears a whimper, muffled by the wall.
Itâs your whimper, bursts sweet and hot from you and nestles itself deep into Megumi.
Yuuji hushes you, âweâve gotta be quietâwe donât want Fushiguro to hear us.â
Something inside of him squirms, wrestles around to make him bite the inside of his cheek.
ââGumiâs probably asleep by now,â he can barely hear your voice, faded and soft around the edges.
âYeah and we donât wanna wake himââ
Thereâs more silence, then, another creak in the bed that makes Megumiâs stomach swoop. A little stuttered gasp that heâs sure came from you. He stays incredibly still. He barely breathes, as if one of you might hear him.
As if you might hear him existing, longing, aching, on the other side of the wall. Like his desire is a scream and not a sharpened, held breath he refuses to let go of. That heâll suffocate on.
He can hear rustling. A little yip from you, followed by Yuujiâs breathy laughâ
âSorry,â Yuuji murmurs, âI get a little too excited.â
He imagines the bashful look on his face, the one where he ducks his head down a little, the rush of pink to his cheeks.
He canât quite hear your response. Heâs ashamed because he strains to hear it but doesnât, misses it, before thereâs more creaking and shifting. He can tell the movements are a little more hurried.
Your moan makes shameful heat rip through Megumi.
He slams his eyes shut, throws his hands over them as if that might block out more.
His vision blurs, all red-hot and simmering, mind racing. What did Yuuji do to get you to moan like that? Was it something his hands did? Or his lips? Is he undressing you? Are you undressing him?
His mind flashes with the image of Yuujiâs bare back, muscles rippling, your legs hitched over his waist. Or Yuujiâs large hands all over you, sliding up the curves of your body while perched in his lap. He imagines the flash of tongue as you kissâ
âYuujiââ your sigh punctures a wound through him.
He feels his desire rush south, feels the way his briefs tighten, curls his fist into his hair like he might pull it out.
His cock hardens fast, almost aches so bad it hurts.
He trails a hand down his chest, over his stomach like he might soothe his feral desire. His hips twitch as he hears another one of your soft cries.
Heâs sick, thereâs something so fucking wrong with himâ
âEasy, pretty girl,â Yuujiâs voice is so fond, too intimate, a laugh curling at its edges, ââm not going anywhere.â
âWant youââ
Megumi tastes blood in his mouth.
Itâs Yuujiâs soft moan that makes Megumi sit bolt right up in bed like itâd struck him. Heâs furious and aching and ashamed, feels it color his insides. He can feel the bow of a bluebell flower, itâs hunched back so, so scared and humiliated and shy.
He covers his cheeks with his hands, tries to hide his own horrible blush from himself.
More movement from the other wall, another creak that might as well be the creak of a rope, a noose around his neck.
His stomach turns sharply.
Heâs gonna be sick againâ
He wrenches himself from bed. He throws on clothes, fumbles in the dark with shaking fingers. He doesnât bother trying to be quiet when he pulls open his door and storms out of his dorm. He letâs it slam on his way out. He isnât careful.
He wonders if you both pause, if you froze, or if youâre continuing like nothing happened.
He rushes outside, into the arms of the cool night air. The wind kisses his feverish cheeks, bursts in to try and soothe all the festering that seems to bleed from the inside out.
He doubles over in the grass outside of the dorms, curls his fingers deep into the dirt, and throws up a gush of hot blood and petals and leaves.
He wishes he felt better afterwards, like it could purge his desire, so twisted and disgusting from his traitorous body. But he doesnât, still aching, body throbbing with want and need. With all that white-hot love. He rolls onto his back in the grass. He thinks of that day in the flowers, wonders what changed in him, too.
Why did this grow inside him? Did he nurture the seeds? Did he tend to them lovingly?
He supposes, thinking of all those years at your side, at Yuujiâs, itâs possible for something to grow. Like he prepared a garden bed for them in the soft, unsuspecting grounds of his body, your cursed-light as nourishment, Yuujiâs blood to water them.
Now the fruits of your labors have paid off and Megumi is nothing but an ill man, lovesick and poisoned. Heâll die from the growth of these seeds.
He thinks of bouquets of bluebells, sopping and drooping with all his guts and blood and shameful desire.
And is this the price he pays for love?
He feels cursed.
He could laugh if he didnât already feel the pressure of tears.
He feelsâ
Sick again.
He turns over on his side and begins sputtering and coughing, hacking up a few more leaves, a stem that drips in pink fluid.
And still, even as his body lurches, and his fever returns tenfold, he thinks of you both. Holding each other. Being held. Clinging and shaking and gasping and desperate for each other. Kissing hard. Or soft. Your sweet cries, Yuujiâs hums against petaled lips.
Still, even as heâs sick all over again, all he can think about is loving, of being loved. Of holding and being held.
***
The ocean rushes up to kiss the shoreline. The sea is plum dark, the sky dashed with the color of wine, of Megumiâs tender insides.
Yuuji is chasing you around in the shallow water, sand and ocean kicking up in a spray with each step. The sun is molten and blossoming over you two, turning you crimson and rose, valentine soft. You seem to glow with it, a lantern lit inside you that flares onto everyone else. Yuuji basks in it, chases after your rays. Your peels of laughter are heard over the roar of the ocean, like the sound is being carried off to sea.
Nobara is a constant at Megumiâs side, knocking into him every so often as they wander down the length of the beach. Her hair has grown out again and she fiddles with it. He knows sheâll get it cut soon, canât stand to feel it on her shoulders too much.
âMaki and I found an apartment,â Nobara mentions and she says it with a sort of bluntness that makes him feel like sheâs ripping off a bandaid. Itâs like heâs a kid again and he can feel the pull of his skin, the little wince he used to give, before the pain fades and he sighs, deciding it wasnât so bad afterall.
Megumi intakes a slow breath and the instant flush of pain blossoms sharply and then quickly fades. Heâs happy for her. Heâll be happy to visit her and Maki. Itâs fine. Heâll be fine. He has to stop clinging to her or Yuuji or you, but letting go feels like growing up too much, or trying to be someone he isnât.
Whatâs he supposed to do when youâre all wound up inside him? Intricate parts of him? Pull all of that out with his bare hands?
He thinks of his bluebells, of trying to pull them out. He knows he has to, if he wants to live. But does he want to live without it? Without you?
Megumi can only muster a soft noise, a bit of a hum of acknowledgement. He casts his eyes out towards the sea, letting them skitter to you and Yuuji.
âHave you ever considered looking for a place? Itâd do you well to get out of the dorms, too.â Nobara then says and though she can tell melancholy has taken hold of him, she doesnât give him the satisfaction of coddling him in any way.
Nobara has always said that if Megumi is upset, he should just come out and say it, instead of pouting about it.
Yuuji wraps his arms around you and the two of you teeter together clumsily, laughing.
He thinks he should start listening to her.
âYeah, I guess.â Megumi responds, almost grumbling. Nobara rolls her eyes.
Sheâs about to open her mouth and say more, but your shrieking pulls both of their attention. Yuujiâs got you tossed over his shoulder as he wades further into the water. Youâre beating at his back a little, fitful little pulls and kicking to get him to stop.
âYuujiâ no, stop! Donât! Yuujiâ!â
He tosses you into the lilac waves, pretty dress and all, the glitter of the sun catching and sparking. Then he dives in after you, still clothed, resurfacing a moment later next to you, whose sputtering and laughing and wiping sea water from your face.
Yuuji waves them over when he notices them staring, âthe water is so warm! You guys should come in!â
âIâm not ruining this shirt!â Nobara shouts back.
Megumi huffs and turns away.
You and Yuuji share a look, something said between you two, before twin smiles warm your faces. You both start wading out of the water, towards them.
âOh no,â Nobara starts to back away slightly.
Your dress is clinging to you, your hair stuck to the curve of your smiling cheek. Yuuji peels off his shirt and dumps it on the sand in a wet heap.
He heads towards Nobara, whereas you turn your eyes on Megumi.
âItadori, if you come near me, Iâll kill youââ
âAh, Kugisaki, câmonââ
âMegumi,â you sing his name like a bird, happy and excited, reaching for him with wiggling fingers.
He shakes his head, âIâm not going in the water.â
You reach for his arm, latch tight onto his forearm and give a tug. He doesnât budge, but his eyes fall to the curve of your fingers around his skin.
âItadori!â Nobara yells, furious and squirming in the hold he has on her. Itâs too easy for him to heft her up and start walking back towards the water as she shrieks more.
Your hold gets tighter. You dig your feet into the sand and put your weight into the next pull of his arm. He stumbles towards you, off-kilter, your smile makes him feel off balance. His body knocks into yours, legs tangling. Your laugh is felt in his chest.
Thereâs a splash and Nobara goes quiet for a moment, Yuujiâs laugh winds with yours then.
And then youâre pulling him to the water and heâs pretending to put up a fight, if only to try and force you closer, if only to let you laugh his name out.
If only for the moment when you both trip and go toppling into some of the shallow waves together. It splashes up into his face, into yours, too, all salt water and warmth. Some of his hair flattens to his forehead, sticks to the nape of his neck. Yours clings to your temples.
You laugh, leaning forward, hands clutching at his now wet shirt.
And he canât help his own laugh, small, but bursting from him, wet and raw, to join yours and Yuujiâs and the sea.
Nobara resurfaces, shouting and cursing out Yuuji.
And then Megumi is standing without thinking, hauling you up into his arms, lifting you bridal style. He cradles you tight to his chest, presses you to him, sees the way the wet skirt of your dress hitches high.
If he was Yuuji, heâd fix it.
If he was Yuuji, heâd kiss you.
âMegumi!â You squeal the way youâd said Yuujiâs name, too, surprised and delighted.
But Megumiâs not Yuuji and he tosses you into the water next to him.
You go under, Yuuji turns to see him, splashes over to him only to throw a strong bicep around his neck.
If Megumi was you, heâd cling to Yuuji.
If Megumi was you, heâd kiss him, too.
But instead he wrestles with him a little, before Yuuji dunks him into the water.
He shuts his eyes tight and holds his breath, the whole world going warbly and soft. Everything sounds far away until he can just hear the roar of water, of his stinging and livid heart, the one being choked out by bluebell roots.
He rushes to the surface, to the sound of your voices.
The sun is a ruby flare, bursting hot and beautiful, turning you all hot pink and tangerine. The water makes you glitter like jewels.
He lets himself laugh and love you. He lets himself enjoy the water, splash and scowl and shout like heâs a teenager again and the whole world is trying to devour him, like all thatâs wrong with him is a cut he has to see Shoko about.
He wishes he could see Shoko about this one.
He could, he knows, but he also knows what sheâll tell him, what his options are.
He swallows hard and tips his head back into the water to float. He thinks of Gojo. Untouchable, mighty Gojo. What flowers did he choke on? Does he regret getting rid of them?
The waves carry him, turning him weightless. His thoughts slip from him, spool out and float away on the ocean.
You all stay out in the water until the sky sheds itâs light and returns to darkness. The moon is a sad smile above your heads, small and soft.
Eventually you drag yourselves out, dripping wet, and walk back to the dorms. You knock into each otherâs sides, brush elbows, talk in hushed voices, like youâll wake the whole world with your youth and excitement.
Megumi watches Yuuji shepherd you into his room, watches him wave goodnight. He hears your sweet voice before the door shuts, wishing him a good night, too. The sound of the door echoes inside of him, settling heavy over him.
Always shut out. A wall up. A breath away. Too little, too late.
He shouldâve said somethingâ
But what would he have said?
Iâm in love with youâ I love you, I donât know when it started but now I canât stop it. I love you and itâs tearing up my insides.
I think I love Yuuji, too, and there is a plant making a garden bed out of my body.
I love you both and itâs killing me.
His stomach suddenly lurches. He pales sharply, gripping at his own doorframe.
Nobara eyes him, âwhatâs wrong with you?â
He canât answer, feels a sharp shooting pain lance around his ribs, squeeze tight to his throat. He lurches too sharply into his own dorm, rushing for the bathroom.
âFushiguro!â Kugisaki calls after him, but he barely gets to the sink in his bathroom before heâs retching up thick blood, leaves bundled into it. A twig. A petal.
His insides tighten up, trying to purge the intruder in his body, trying to purge his love. For a moment, he almost tries to swallow it all down, like he couldnât fathom getting rid of it. Itâs his now, a part of him so thoroughly that removing it might kill him.
(He knows removing it would actually save him, but the idea of not loving either of you again makes him tremble like a child, clinging to anything he canâ)
He feels more than he sees Nobara, too focused on the hot rush of blood and petals that comes up with another barking cough, splattering into the white of the sink.
âFushiguro, are youââ
She gasps when she sees the sink, when she finally takes it in. Thereâs a long silence.
He spits into the sink, hangs his head.
âOh God,â she says, horror filling her voice.
He swallows, turns shining eyes on her.
âI told you,â she says, shaking her head, eyes wide with fear. She looks at the sink, at all the blood and rot of it all, the proof of his love, âdammit, Fushiguro, I told you!â
And he canât help but laugh, barking out a broken, ironic noise, something horrible and grating. It sends him into another coughing fit, makes him gag on a stem, makes him vomit it into the sink, too.
He lets his head fall between his shoulders again. He bows his head in defeat. The silence rings in his ears. Nobara is angry with him. But he knows sheâs only angry because sheâs scared.
After a moment, she touches his shoulder, his shaking back. He tries to breathe. He can feel tears prick at his eyes.
He shudders.
âYouâve really done it this time,â Nobara tries to joke, âwhich one are you even in love with anyways?â
Megumi catches her eyes and he must look stricken or panicked or too raw, because her face falls, her lips part in surprise.
âNoââ she starts, âI was joking.â
Megumi swallows, tasting blood. He shakes his head and when he speaks, his voice is painfully rough, just a rasp, âI wish I was.â
Nobara curses again, softly, shaking her head like she canât believe it.
âYouâre an idiot, Fushiguro.â
âI know,â he mumbles.
She leans into him, though, touches her temple to his shoulder, âAnd weâre gonna get you through this. Youâre not dying like this after all these years.â
Megumi is silent for a long moment. He almost wants to snap that he wonât get it removed, and almost wants to plead about not telling you or Yuuji.
Instead, she elbows him in the ribs, uncaring of the pain that lances through him, âyouâre supposed to say I know, Kugisaki.â
He spits more blood out of his mouth, rubs at his side, like he can feel the bluebells blooming on the inside of him, searching for your light, for Yuujiâs brilliance. He thinks heâs going to be sick the rest of the night again.
But Nobara is solid beside him, like sheâs always been. He lets out a slow, trembling breath. He tries to will his tears away.
âI know, Kugisaki.â
***
âFushiguro, you really havenât been looking too good lately.â
Yuuji is peering up into Megumiâs face. Theyâre on a mission together, walking along a set of train tracks as night falls over the city. The frogs and crickets are loud. The stars blink to life above their heads.
âIâm fine.â Megumi says plainly.
âAre you sure? You look paler than usual.â Yuuji tells him and heâs sure if you were here, you would be elbowing him because it sounds unintentionally rude.
âIâm fine.â Megumi bites out this time, if only to get him to stop prying.
Yuuji says your name, soft, rounded along the edges, âsheâs worried about you, you know?â
âWhat?â
âYeah, she just says she thinks somethings wrong. She worries about you a lot. I mean, not that I donât! But sheâs more observant than me, so Iâve been told.â Yuuji rambles a little, the brush of the long grass just a rustle among the sounds of night as they walk.
Megumi feels his insides twist up. You worry about him? You notice?
âShe is more observant than you.â Megumi agrees dryly.
âSo there is something wrong with you?â Yuuji asks, turning to walk backwards in front of Megumi, forcing them to look at each other.
âIâm fine, Itadori.â Megumi says again, glances away from the raw concern that has flooded Yuujiâs face.
âJeeze, youâre stubborn.â He says, and then adds, âwell, if you ever need to talk or anythingâIâm here for you. We both are.â
âHey, watch itâ!â
Megumi doesnât think heâs ever been so thankful for the appearance of a curse. Yuuji almost knocks straight into it. And then heâs calling for his divine dog and the battle has begun, the curse warbling and shrieking.
When they return home later, bruised and scraped up and tender, itâs you who greets them. You were in Yuujiâs room, in one of his shirts. Megumi tries to sneak into his own room, but you call after him.
âDo you have bandaids? That cut doesnât look too good.â You tell him.
He doesnât respond fast enough, and doesn't have it in him to try and lie to you, so he lets you pull him into Yuujiâs room, too. Yuuji is already peeling off clothes to shower. Megumi watches the muscles in his back for only a moment, feeling a creeping, antagonizing heat ease over his face, his ears.
But then youâre urging him to sit on the edge of Yuujiâs bed and fetching a first aid kit for him. Then youâre easing close to him, almost standing between his legs. Then your hands are careful and dabbing at the cut across his brow.
Then itâs just you and him.
You wipe away the blood with a love and gentleness he wishes he didnât know. You brush his hair from his face. You tend to him the way a mother might a child, like heâs fragile, breakable under your hands.
Maybe he is.
âYou seem distant lately,â you murmur and Megumi casts his eyes up to your face in surprise, âare you upset with me?â
âWhat? No.â Megumi says quickly, guilt twinging hard inside of him, knowing that heâs made you feel bad. âNo, not at all.â
âI thought maybeââ you start, then catch your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself. You shake your head, let go of a breath, wiping at the blood under his eye. You glance behind you, at the closed bathroom door, and then lower your voice when you say, âyou know you mean the world to me, donât you? To both of us. I donât likeââ your voice breaks, âI donât want to lose youâor something, because ofââ
Megumi swallows hard around the tight lump in his throat. He can feel the cough that threatens to come up, the bluebells inside of him reaching, strainingâ
âYou wouldnât ever lose me,â Megumi whispers and before he can think, his hand comes up, touches at your side, like he wants to guide you closer, or comfort you.
What he really wants is to curl his fingers around your waist, tighten his hold, pull you into his lap.
But heâs always a little too far away, held at a distance, so he lets his hands fall away, like petals that fall from the flower.
âAre youâare we okay?â you ask softly and now your own touch on his face has just turned soft and reverent.
Megumi swallows hard around the sudden ache in his throat, like he could cry, âof course weâre okay.â He croaks out, quiet and fragile.
Neither of you had noticed the shower turning off, only jumping away from each other a little when the bathroom door swings open.
Yuuji is oblivious, wrapped in a towel, already asking, âyou guys wanna watch a movie tonight? Fushiguro, you can use my shower if you wantââ
He glances at the pair of you two, you standing so close, and doesnât even bat an eye. âI really wanna watch an action movie, but I can be persuaded into a rom-com, too.â
You share a look with Megumi, fighting back a smile. He canât help the hitch in his own lips, a nervous slip of a smile, but a smile nonetheless.
You reach for the antiseptic, and murmur, âyouâll stay, wonât you?â
Your eyes are nearly begging him.
How could he say no?
Megumi nods smally, trying to keep his stomach from revolting on him, âsure.â
The antiseptic stings, steals his attention momentarily, before youâre settling the bandaid to his skin.
âI have some of your clothes you could wear, Fushiguro.â Yuuji then adds, already rummaging messily in his dresser. Megumi almost protests, saying he can just run next door but Yuuji pulls out an old t-shirt of Megumiâs and a pair of boxers.
Yuuji has a bad habit of borrowing and coveting his friends' things, collecting them and surrounding himself with them. His room is a testament, proof of all the people he loves, with all their knick knacks and clothes and items strewn around his room.
Itâd be endearing, if Megumi wasnât glaring at his boxers in Yuujiâs hand, cheeks flushing darkly, âwhen did you even take those?â
Yuuji laughs nervously, âawhile ago? I promise theyâre clean! Theyâre also too tight on me.â
You laugh then, too, and it brightens up the room, making Megumi soften up. He finally stands, towers over you a moment before he takes the clothes from Yuuji, maybe with too much of a glare, before heading to the bathroom.
Itâs still steamy.
He uses Yuujiâs shampoo and conditioner, the body wash that reminds Megumi sharply of him. He coughs a little, lets crimson splatter against the tile, before being washed away like it never even happened. He shouldnât stay with you two, shouldnât watch this movie butâ
But he canât deny you.
He shuts off the shower. Towels himself off. He dresses in clothes that smell faintly of Yuuji still.
When he leaves the shower, Yuuji is already reclining in bed, remote in hand and pointed at the TV. Itâs not like Megumiâs room, where he has a small couch everyone can pile onto, the only thing in front of Yuujiâs TV is his bed. He almost wants to ask if youâre both sure, but then youâre turning off the overhead light and crawling into bed, settling yourself beneath the covers, between Yuujiâs legs. You curl up against his chest.
And then you fold the covers over and pat the spot next to both of you.
Megumiâs heart lurches.
But his feet move before he can stop himself.
He slips into bed beside you two. His shoulder touches Yuujiâs. His hips to his. His legs against his. Against yours. He feels as if heâs going to shake apart.
But the movie begins (a rom com, certainly), and the light is soft from the TV. Itâs at a low volume, playing softly and lulling his stuttering heart. Megumi realizes how tired he is as the movie continues. His eyes grow heavy, his body fatigued from the mission. His body fatigued, weighted, with all his love.
Yuujiâs head falls onto Megumiâs shoulder. Heâs asleep, out like a light.
You glance back, giggle softly, smile at Megumi sleepily, before settling back in.
Megumi wishes he was stronger, but all he does is adjust himself so Yuujiâs head is at a better angle, pressing himself tighter to his friend. He doesnât know if this is all worse for him, maybe itâs better if he keeps his distance, grows a bluebell inside him until it kills him, maybe thatâd be better than whatever creature opens its eyes inside of Megumi now. Something that wants more and more, wants to be closer, desires spilling from itâs maw like the blood that falls from Megumiâs lips.
He drifts off, warm, sated, taken care of.
(Loved, if he knew, if heâd speak up).
When he wakes in the middle of the night, the screen is blue and soft. Somehow, the three of you had slid down, head to pillows, curled up beneath the covers. He can feel you pressed to his back, and can feel Yuuji on the other side of you.
Megumi should slip out now, leave while youâre both asleep, none the wiser.
But how could he leave now? When heâs had a taste?
He thought heâd be able to live in your outskirts, in the peripheral, on the other side of the wall, but now that heâs had something moreâeven just a little more, a fraction of what he couldâve hadâhe has no idea how heâs supposed to live with anything less.
(He canât actually, wonâtâ)
He does something horrible, something selfish.
He turns over carefully to face you, inches closer, presses along the soft lines of your body. He feels Yuujiâs leg thrown over yours, feels limb and skin, feels love and fondness stuck along his ribcage.
He eases his arm over you, letâs his hand lay on Yuujiâs side, cocooning you between them. Your breath is soft against the hollow of his throat.
He squeezes his eyes shut and imagines he gets to do this every night. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to keep his breath from trembling.
Tomorrow heâll blame it on sleep, heâll deny with a red face or choke out apologies.
But tonight he holds you, tangles his legs with Yuujiâs, with his heart slamming in the crux of his chest.
(Tomorrow will feel painfully normal. Neither you nor Yuuji will say anything about waking up intertwined. Yuuji will offer to make breakfast. The morning will be slow, birds singing, the sun honey sweet.)
But tonight he takes what he can, a shadow stealing over you both.
(Tomorrow you will wake him with careful fingers.)
But tonight, unknown to him, youâll lie awake, too, knowing what Megumiâs done, lying beneath his arm, with your own heart slamming in the crux of your chest and your eyes wide open in the dark.
***
Megumi gets so sick that he canât leave the bathroom. He stays by the tub of the shower, hacking and throwing up into its porcelain, letting long stems rip their way through his poor, fragile body. Heâs feverish, body aching, chilled despite the high summer.
Itâs Nobara who finds him and this ghastly sight, the tub covered in the gore of his love, bluebells strewn around like a bloody flower shop.
She swears low, yells at him a little for not calling her sooner. He must look miserable enough that she stops mid-rant to get him towels. To get him water and ice. She tries to take care of him.
She rinses off the tub when he settles down enough to drink water, to suck on ice.
But he inevitably starts again, woozy and delirious, clawing at his throat as bundles of flowers spew from his raw lips.
When his body isnât trying to kill him, he letâs Nobara actually coddle him. Sheâs scared, he can tell. Scared enough to cradle him to her chest, to brush hair damp with sweat away from his face.
She keeps asking, âshould I get Maki? Should I get Shoko?â
Who can help you? She seems to beg him and all he can do is shake his head.
Eventually, she says, âyou have to tell them.â
âNo,â he croaks, âI canât.â
âYou have to, or Iâll get Shoko and sheâll remove itââ
âPlease, noâ I donâtâ I canât.â
Nobaraâs hold on him turns a little sharp, âyouâll die if you donât do something.â
Her voice is vicious, but sheâs squeezing him tight.
He feels nauseous, delirious, and weak. He feels the pressure of tears burn and ache in his head, âtheyâre so happy.â He gets out, choked and rough.
âFushiguroââ
âI canât ruin it for themâ please, I canât, I canâtââ he babbles, gasping out as a sob wracks through his body. Pain floods him. Tears start to drip down onto the slope of his nose, the curves of his cheeks, falling away into the fabric of Nobaraâs shirt.
He turns away from her to sob again, knowing that something is going to come up.
Blood and petals and mucus rush hot up his throat. It splashes into the tub. Nobara winces, but she's still there beside him.
She pushes his hair away from his feverish forehead and when he calms again, sucking in ragged breaths, she says, âyou need to tell them.â
His head falls to rest on the cool lip, shudders as he feels roots seem to spread and push through the tender parts of his organs, like theyâre winding around inside him, searching for more purchase, more claim. He has no idea how large the plant inside him would be, wonders if it takes up all the space it can in the pits of his stomach.
He knows, he just canât get the words to come out, tongue thick and heavy with the taste of earth and bluebells.
***
Megumi doesnât know it, but after heâd left Yuujiâs bed, thereâd been a long, long talk between you and Yuuji.
A conclusion found like a missing puzzle piece, a lost key to a lock, to the room beyond. No more walls and shut doors. No longer locked out.
It feels delicate, like the crush of petals, like the look on your face when you watch him.
***
Megumi becomes so weak that he can hardly get out of bed. He flutters in and out of tormented sleep, all he sees is you behind his eyes, a wash of Yuuji in his dreams. Periwinkle blue and zinging orange, the soft bloom of a beating heart. A meandering bee that hums a buzzing tune only he knows. The embrace of an ocean willing to welcome him home.
When you both come to him, he doesnât know if heâs dreaming or not. You lean over his bed to press your palm to his face, check his fever.
âHeâs burning up,â you turn to say to Yuuji, who says something Megumi doesnât catch, before he eases away to fetch something.
You sit on the edge of his bed and rest your palm along his cheek.
Megumi says your name, child-soft, pushing his face into your palm.
âHey,â you murmur, your smile is sadâhe hates that heâs made you sad. âYuujiâs getting you ice and then heâs going to get Shoko.â
Megumi shakes his head a little, âno, Iâm fineââ
âMegumi, we know youâre not.â You hush and something about it pulls at a precarious part of him. He goes very, very still.
âWeâre worried about you,â you continue, your thumb rubbing gently at the plain of his cheek.
He thinks his chest is heaving, rattling for air like an old car trying to start.
His heart is in no better shape.
Yuuji comes back to your side with a cup of ice chips. He sits beside you on the bed. His tawny eyes are softened when they fall on him.
âI have to tell you something,â Megumi blurts out and it feels like needles in his throat, in his chest, a ball of nails. A curseâs teeth in his jugular.
âOkay,â you encourage gently.
But the moment heâs presented with the opportunity, he wants to clam up and hide. He wants to waste away. He wants to throw upâ
âItâs alright,â Yuuji urges, âyou can tell us anything.â
Megumi doesnât know when he started to cry, but suddenly youâre cooing, and brushing away his tears, âhey, donât cryâplease, donât cry, Megumi. Why are you crying?â
And he finally lets go of that held breath, letâs it out of him in a terrified exhale, speaks what was unspoken;
âBecause I love youâ because Iâm in love with you.â
He doesnât know which one of you he says it to. The words leave his lips jumbled and broken, ripped from his throat like a bad curse.
He feels his insides tighten up, shudder and move, grow or shrink, nearly strangle him out in the silence that follows. Theyâve finally been freed from his mouth, shuddered to life and given wings to circle around his head like crows, to fall like shooting stars.
And there it is.
Heâs finally said it, ruined it all, ruined everythingâ
For a moment, there's quietness, stillness. Megumi can hear the thunder of his heart, can feel the tightening of fear that squeezes at his lungs.
But then you lurch forward and crush your lips to his in a kiss that is more of a desperate confessional.
You must taste blood. You must smell bluebells.
His eyes go wide and he twists his head to get away from you, to look at Yuuji.
Who doesnât look surprised or hurt or angry.
âIâI donât understand.â
âI love you, too.â You hush, eyes flying over his face.
But Megumiâs eyes are on Yuujiâs, prying, desperate for his response, âI canâtââ
âRelax, Fushiguro, itâs okay.â
âNo it isnât,â Megumi almost pleads, âyou love herâyou love her and youâre happy. I donât want toââ
âYeah, I do. I am.â Yuuji agrees and for a horrifying, terrible moment, Megumi thinks that Yuuji is giving you up for him. Megumi knew it would happenâ he knew it, which is why he didnât want to speak it aloud. He knew Yuuji would be that selfless, and would give up all that makes him happy to save him. Yuuji would give up love to let Megumi have it. And if thereâs anyone in the world that deserves love, itâs Yuuji. Megumiâs stomach turns over, heâs about to protest, but Yuuji stops him, âbut itâs okay. I can love you, too, canât I?â
His voice is tentative, almost shy, but the tension in Megumiâs body finally gives way. It dissolves like honey in hot water, slow and easy. Something unfurls inside of him, but this time it doesnât hurt, it doesnât come with blood and pain and fear. Thereâs nothing there except the bloom of loveâ
To love and be loved back.
âDonât cry, Megumi,â you hush, but he thinks you might be crying, too. He canât see through the blur of his own tears, but can feel you messily trying to brush them away, smearing damp and soft onto his cheeks. âWe love you, we love youââ
Megumi sniffles, rubs at his eyes a little, and feels the curl of his damp lashes sticking together. He wants to say it again, but all he can manage is to push into your palm, turn his face like a flower to the sun.
Thereâs the crinkle of a cup that breaks the seriousness, Yuujiâs sheepish laugh. Yours followed. Fondness tightens around Megumiâs heart.
âI should still go get Shoko,â he says, âand you should take these.â
He offers the cup of ice to Megumi and you pull away fractionally to allow him to take it.
But Megumi grabs Yuujiâs wrist before he can get up, âI donât need Shoko anymore.â
âMegumi, youâve been sick for too longââ you respond.
âIt wasâit was hanahaki disease.â
You and Yuuji both go perfectly still.
âIâll be okay now.â
You throw your arms around Megumiâs neck hard enough to knock back into his bed, crying, getting out something about, âwhy didnât you tell us? What were you thinking? You couldâve diedââ
Yuuji urges you away a little, âhey, easy with him.â
ââM okay.â Megumi murmurs into your temple, glancing up at Yuuji. âIâm okay.â
And he is. Heâs okay. He lets out a shaking breath, he curls an arm around you.
Thereâs plenty to discuss and smooth out, questions he desperately wants to ask, but itâs not the night for that. You and Yuuji take care of him, bustle around him, and lay beside him, curling around him in a way he thought heâd never know.
He falls asleep between both of you that night, tucked into his bed, warm bare skin to his to soothe his heart. Yuujiâs arm, heavy and comforting, is thrown over his middle. He can feel his breaths at the nape of neck, his quiet snores. Youâre curled against his chest, tucked into the crooks of his body.
Tomorrow will feel painfully normal.
Megumi will feel the best heâs felt in a long time.
Yuuji will make him a big breakfast.
You will brew his coffee how he likes it.
But tonight, he can kiss the crown of your head, or tangle his fingers in Yuujiâs hair.
But tonight, his heart will quiet in the crux of his chest.
And you will dot kisses there, like youâre trying to soothe whatâs left inside him.
Tomorrow will come with questions.
But tonight he will hold you and be held, twin touches that make him ache with the start of healing.
***
Megumi takes wobbling, baby steps with you and Yuuji. The three of you ease into a new form of a relationship. Heâs overly tentative at first, terrified that heâll cross a line, but you and Yuuji are adamant and overeager, showering him with attention and affection.
It takes some getting used to, being allowed to kiss you, to touch Yuuji. Heâs almost apprehensive, especially when the kisses turn open mouthed and heated, when he feels like he can hardly catch his breath.
Usually he shies away from anything too heavy, careful with his touch, only skimming your waist. The back of Yuujiâs neck. Not because he doesnât want either of you, but maybe because heâs terrified of how badly he wants.
His desire feels like a tremendous thing still, so bad it almost killed him.
He denies himself what he wants the way an acolyte might fast, out of respect or reverence or a display of control or dedication. Maybe itâs edged with masochism, a bowing to all that is greater, brow to the floor at the feet of love.
Youâre eager tonight, though, playful in a way thatâs making his head spin, rolling around in bed with him and Yuuji. Megumi tries to keep his cool, but itâs hard when youâre settling the weight of your thighs into his lap, when youâre twining your arms around his neck.
Yuuji fits himself close behind you, tucks his face into your neck and Megumi feels the tips of his ears go bright red as he watches Yuuji scatter wet, little kisses to the skin there.
You catch Megumi in a kiss, keening a little and pulling away fractionally to yelp when Yuuji bites a little too hard.
âSorry,â Yuuji says with his smile curving around the bend of your shoulder, though he doesnât seem very sorry at all.
He does lay another kiss over the stinging mark, as a real apology.
You dip into another kiss with Megumi and he lets his palms, wide and rough, travel along your ribcage. His fingers bump into Yuujiâs, sliding into them, brushing over them. You make another little noise, but this time, itâs more of a hum, and he thinks it has something to do with the touch of his tongue to yours.
Your hips squirm fractionally.
And heâs gotta be careful because if you press down any harder, settle heavier into his lap, youâll feelâ
He pulls away, feeling his cheeks light up, turn hot and rosy.
âA little kissing got you flustered, Fushiguro?â Yuuji asks, almost too pleasantly.
âShut up,â Megumi mutters, feeling his face just get impossibly warmer.
âLeave âm alone, Yuuji.â You hush, kissing at his pinkened cheeks. You nudge your nose to his gently, âdo you want to keep going?â
Megumiâs heart rabbits in his chest, fingers tightening fractionally around your waist, around one of Yuujiâs fingers. Of course he wants to keep going, he wants you so bad that heâd been sick with it.
âIf you wantâif it âs okay.â Megumi finally exhales, feeling the shaky breath that comes out against the curve of your jaw as he noses there.
âYeah,â you sigh, the sound turning soft as his lips drift down to the line of your neck. Yuuji is on your other side. You squirm again when Megumi skims teeth to tender skin, leaving a sucking kiss there that he hopes creates a mark. Heâs certain Yuujiâs already left a few, and feels the need to catch up. âYeah, itâs okay.â
Your hands sink into Megumiâs hair, tugging lightly to get him to tip his head back, to offer his lips up to you for another kiss. Yuujiâs hands are moving again, one squirming beneath your shirt, easing it up. Megumiâs fingers skim the bare skin of your back. You let yourself sink heavier into this kiss, put weight into it, hips twitching into hisâ
He feels your gasp more than he hears it.
And heâs been embarrassingly hard since you started kissing him with a little more intention, feels a prickly heat arc through him, knowing his lust is obvious to you now.
You grind down harder and Megumi canât help the groan that leaves him, feels his flush worsen, almost feels like he wants to hide. He could tuck his face to your shoulder, bury his face in your neck. But then Yuujiâs caught on, and his hands guide your waist into rocking against Megumiâs again.
He pulls away from the kiss breathless.
Megumi can feel Yuuji push closer to your back, eager, nose nudging at your cheek, ââs he hard?â
Megumiâs ears go red, too.
Yuujiâs hands snake around your ribcage to the front, though, forcing you into an arch as they glide up to your breasts. He cups them with rough fingers. Your shirt is bunched up around his wrists.
âYuuji!â You gasp in what was supposed to be admonishment for the blunt question, but then tapers off into a mewl as Megumi watches Yuujiâs thumbs brush over your nipples through the fabric of your bra.
Megumi swallows hard. He pulls away fractionally if only to watch, fixated, with the way Yuujiâs hands cup and squeeze at you.
âHey, Fushiguro, get her shirt off,â Yuuji says and his voice is a little rougher, a little more wrecked.
Megumi blinks like heâs coming back to reality, then nods dumbly, reaching with careful fingers to pull at your shirt, slip it right off and toss it away. And then Yuujiâs hands are dipping within the cups of your bra and youâre keening. And Megumiâs still in awe, still tracing the curves of your body, wondering how soft you must feel in Yuujiâs hands.
âYou can touch her,â Yuuji suddenly says and his eyes are on Megumiâs face, the raw desire written there. And then, âhere,â he mumbles, hands disappearing for a moment to fiddle with your bra clasp, to unhook it, let it fall forward before discarding that, too. And then his hands are back, cupping and palming and squeezing at you.
âI know,â Megumi mutters, even if heâs a little too mesmerized.
âYou should really stop denying yourself, Fushiguro.â Yuuji adds, tweaking the peak of your breast with calloused fingers.
Megumi glares at Yuuji, despite having pink, pink cheeks, and the little embarrassed huff he gives. Yuujiâs returning smile is dopey, a little love struck.
âCâmon,â Yuuji urges.
And Megumi finally dips forward, laying open mouthed kisses to your throat, to your chest. Down, lower, and then Yuujiâs moving one of his big hands out of the way, cupping beneath to let Megumiâs warm mouth encase your budded nipple.
Your moan strikes him like lightning.
Yuuji hisses through his teeth and Megumi can feel the brush of his thumb along his jaw, before his hand disappears into his hair at the nape of his neck, holding him there, letting him suck and lave his tongue over you.
From the corner of his eyes, Megumi sees Yuuji pinch and tweak your other breast, hears your squeak, the way you jerk in their holds on you.
When he pulls away to switch to the other, his lips brush Yuujiâs fingers. Warm against rough skin. Your head tips back onto Yuujiâs shoulder, eyes fluttering. Megumi already feels dizzy as he latches onto your other nipple.
And he realizes he wants more, wants to go lower, wants you further spread out for him, he wants to take and taste and learn you in this way. Wants to learn Yuuji, tooâ
He pulls away from your tit to look up at you, at Yuujiâs face over your shoulder, desperately trying to watch. âCan Iââ Megumi licks his lips, his voice raspy and soft, trying to gather his courage, âcan I go down on you?â
Your answering moan is soft, a broken little cry. Yuujiâs curse is under his breath, pupils blown wide.
But then he says, âitâs about time,â and sits back, dragging you off of Megumiâs lap and into the cradle of his chest, between his legs, too. Itâs almost comical, how quickly Yuujiâs got you laying back onto him, the wildly desperate look in his eyes.
If Megumi didnât feel as desperate as Yuuji looks, heâd say something. Maybe heâd try to be smart.
But then Yuujiâs saying, âlift your hips for him.â
And just like the way they always work together, at each otherâs sides, Megumi knows what he wants. He hooks his lean fingers in your shorts, takes your panties with them in one go, sliding them away slowly.
Both he and Yuuji watch with parted lips as your panties cling to the sweet shape of you before coming away, obviously damp.
âNo fair,â Yuuji actually whines, hands squeezing at your waist, one coming down to pry your plush thigh open. He hitches it over his own leg, keeping you spread, even when you try to reflexively close your legs again, shying away from Megumiâs gaze.
âYouâve gotten this for months while I nearly died,â Megumi deadpans, but thereâs breathlessness to his voice that doesnât make it sound as biting, âthatâs no fair.â
âYou couldâve had it, too! Youâre just stubborn!â Yuuji protests, reaching to flick at Megumiâs ear, who swats him away.
Their bickering dies as Megumi settles onto his stomach in front of you, though, pushing at your other thigh gently to open you up further.
ââGumiââ you whimper, twisting your face to bury it in Yuujiâs neck.
Megumi kisses lightly at your inner thigh, just fluttering lips to warm skin. He peers up at you through his long lashes, blue eyes alight, âthis okay?â
âYeah, âts okay,â you get out, peeking down at him, your chest already heaving, eyes warm with need, brows tugging in at the corners like you might already cry. Megumi has to bite back a moan, has to fasten his lips to the curve of your thigh, and try to suck a mark into your skin there, too.
âSheâs fine but youâre taking too long,â Yuuji huffs, hand traveling down the length of your body. He eases his fingers over your stomach, coming to rest in front of Megumiâs faceâ
Gently, Yuuji slides his fingers through your folds, parting you, letting Megumi look. You give an embarrassed whine of Yuujiâs name, but then Yuujiâs finger slips down, shallowly pressing into you, only to drag it back out. His finger glistens and you arch into his touch, tilting your hips up for Megumi.
âCâmon, Fushiguro,â Yuuji murmurs, making more of a mess, slicking his fingers through you, making it obvious just how wet you are.
âM-move your fingers,â Megumi tells him, but thereâs no bite to it, once more mesmerized with the way Yuuji is touching you, playing with you. Thereâs something about the way he touches youâhe somehow makes it dirtier than it needs to be, messy and overeager.
Instead of doing as heâs told, Yuuji just eases your folds apart with two fingers again and Megumi doesnât need to be told twiceâ
His head dips forward, nose nudging at you, tongue sliding out to kitten lick at you, tentative and slow. But once heâs got his first taste, he groans, shimmying closer, pulling you down a little towards the warm clutch of his mouth.
Heâs aching, hips pushing into the mattress desperately, cheeks flushed high, eyes glassy as he looks back up at you and Yuuji through his dark lashes.
His tongue brushes up against Yuujiâs fingers, getting bolder with every pass, making it slicker and wetter. Yuuji groans when they lock eyes, fingers twitching, moving over you, against Megumiâs tongue.
Itâs a mess of fingers and spit and soft tongue and dewy folds. Megumiâs groaning softly, more than he realizes, right up against you. Yuuji presses his fingers into Megumiâs mouth, against his tongue. He pulls them away only to let Megumi suck on them for a moment.
You moan softly at the sight, your hand tangling in Megumiâs hair, watching as Yuujiâs fingers come away from his lips spit slick, a string of it shining as it passes between them, before falling away.
âSpit for me,â Yuuji gets out, voice gone, rough and hushed. His fingers are back over your clit, swollen and tender and Megumi feels his stomach swoop. He pushes his hips into the bed again, desperate for relief, trying to keep back his own whine.
But he letâs a slow glob of spit fall from his kiss-stung lips to your clit, to Yuujiâs fingers, who groans behind clenched teeth, before rubbing it in slow and easy.
Your moan is loud, almost teetering into a sob. Megumi sets lips and tongue back to you, lapping at you while Yuujiâs fingers work on you.
âGetting close, pretty girl?â Yuuji asks, nose nudging against your cheek, âgonna cum for him? All over his face?â
âYeahââ you whine, hips desperately pushing towards his mouth, towards Yuujiâs fingers.
âYeah,â Yuuji encourages, âyeah, câmonââ and then his other hand tangles in the hair at the nape of Megumiâs neck, tightening, making him moan, making his cheeks flush, but forcing him to look up at the two of you. His voice is raspy, almost winded, âHey, watchâwatch her.â
And heâs so fucking glad he listens to Yuuji for once.
You fall apart so prettily, all bare against Yuuji, head thrown back, hair in your face, shivering and whining. Megumi hears himself groan, feels it rip up through his chest, doesnât slow, lapping and sucking at you. At Yuujiâs fingers.
âCan you feel her?â Yuuji asks and Megumiâs response is groaned out against you, nodding dumbly as you throb beneath his tongue, as Yuuji curses softly.
You try to get away, squirming, pushing at Megumiâs head, but he doesnât slow.
âHold her for me,â Megumi grunts and Yuujiâs hand slips away, hooking in your other leg, tightening up and pulling you apart. You cry out, just as Megumi glances up at you, up the line of your body, your heaving chest. His eyes land on yours, like dark blue moons as he drops another faint kiss to you, and then murmurs, âI want one more.â
âI-I donâtââ
âYou can give him one more, canât you, baby?â Yuuji asks, squeezing at your thighs.
Whatever youâre about to say is cut off as Megumi flattens his tongue against you again, as Yuuji swallows your sharp cry with a kiss. Megumi watches from beneath his lashes, watches the sliver of Yuujiâs tongue, the way you can hardly kiss back.
He doubles his efforts, feels you shake, thighs trembling in Yuujiâs hold. He feels like a man starved, feels like whatever desires heâd had so carefully controlled inside of him have come roaring forwards, ripping through him.
He shuts his eyes and gives in to it, rocks his hips onto the bed as he works on bringing you to another peak, as he feels Yuujiâs hand in his hair, guiding his head in messy passes of his lips over your center. He musses his hair, tangles his fingers in it, moans shamelessly when Megumi glances up at him with shining lips and chin.
Your second peak is strong enough that Yuuji has to actively tighten his hold on you to keep you in place, and has to force you to squirm and buck against his chest. It has you keening, tears pricking at your eyes, one escaping to swim down the slope of your cheek.
Megumi finally picks his head up from between your legs, lips shining and slick with you still.
âCâmere,â Yuuji mutters, reaching for him, âkiss me.â
Megumi moves without thinking.
Their kiss is a rough clash over your shoulder, jostling you. Yuuji kisses open mouthed and sloppy, forcing a low noise out of Megumi. Yuujiâs rougher with him than he is with you, can feel the clank of their teeth together, clumsy, and desperate. He can feel the crush of heat, feel his head thick and cloudy with everything.
When they pull away, Yuuji is settling back against you, letting his hand fall away from Megumiâs neck.
Youâre already boneless and dazed, blinking away tears, when Yuuji says, âI hope youâre not tired already.â he nudges at your jaw to press sloppy kisses there, âbecause weâre just getting started.â
You reach out for Megumi and he leans towards you, letting you slip your arms around his neck, twining your fingers through his silky hair. He lifts you from Yuujiâs chest and into his lap, his arms curling around your waist. âAre you okay?â he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours as he glances over you.
You nod, but youâve got a dreamy look in your eyes now, half-lidded and warm as you gaze at him. Itâs all love, soft as you reply, ââm okay. You want to keep going?â
Now Megumi nods, swallowing hard, letting out a shaking breath, âyeah, I really want to keep going.â
âThen you should get your clothes off,â Yuuji pipes up, with his shirt already off, lost somewhere on the floor. Heâs all muscle and tanned skin, pale scars lightning across his chest and arms.
Your smile is sweet, eyes glittering with mirth, before your fingers tighten in the fabric of Megumiâs shirt. You begin to pull it up, over his head, where his hair gets staticy and fluffy.
âLay back,â you tell him, pressing sweet little kisses to his cheeks, his jawline.
He goes down easily, always, for you.
And then youâre sitting atop his lap, bare and pretty, nearly glowing. Your smile is devastating.
You lean over him, scattering kisses over his collar bones, over the lines of his chest. The silvery scars on his own skin get covered in the press of your lips, in all your love.
You ease down the length of his torso, lips dragging, making his muscles jump beneath your touch, before you get to the button of his pants.
Megumi feels as if his poor heart might give out, watching your careful fingers unwork the button, peel away the zipper. You give a noise of surprise, just as Yuuji kneels behind you, fingers slipping through the mess between your legs, now that youâre on your knees in front of Yuuji.
âCanât help it,â Yuuji mutters, a little too focused on the way his fingers are disappearing in and out of you. Megumi tries to crane his neck, but he can only see the movement of Yuujiâs arm, the slight sway in your hips, the pleasure drunk look on your face.
He helps lift his hips when you finally manage to work his pants down enough, taking the rest of his clothing all in one go. And then heâs bare, in front of you, cock hard and flushed an angry pink.
You inhale sharply, hand coming up to wrap around him and Megumi tries to keep back the eager twitching of his hips. Heâs so turned on, so sensitive that he has to fist his hand in the sheets. His chest is already heaving, eyes jumping between you and Yuuji whoâ
âYuujiââ you gasp, lurching forward a little, trying to escape his touch, âlet Megumi first.â
Megumiâs eyes fly to where Yuuji had been touching you, but now sees that heâd replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock. He canât quite see still, but he can see the motion of Yuujiâs hips, the way he must nudging against you, slipping through your foldsâ
Megumiâs teeth click together. He eases up onto his elbows, as if to see.
Yuuji huffs, eyes flicking down to Megumi, lips still parted, almost drooling from the way heâs watching his cock rub against you.
âCâmon, I was patient,â Yuuji gets out, rutting forward a little, dipping into you. Megumi watches you fight the urge to sink into the feeling, watches with held breath as your hand tightens on his cock, as you almost let him ease into you.
But then you jolt away a little, coming to your senses, a soft cry of, ânoââGumi first.â And then youâre shifting so youâre out of his hold, scrambling to settle yourself back into Megumiâs lap.
His groan is bitten off, feeling you like this, hot and slick against him.
Yuujiâs groan, on the other hand, is in frustration. He still comes up to press up against your back, fit tight to you, be as close as possible âfine, fineââ
He grabs at your jaw, fingers squeezing at your cheeks as he forces your head to tip back, far enough that he can give you an open-mouthed kiss, shiny with spit, before he pulls away, âbut you both owe me.â
Megumiâs too focused on the way you settle your weight onto him, the way the heat of your cunt seems to melt onto him, to even bother responding to Yuuji. Your stuttered gasp is so sweet, hips twitching.
Yuujiâs hand fastens around the curve of your waist, guiding you into rolling your hips forward, against him. Megumi watches, fixated, as his cock glides against you, pressed firmly to his stomach, your hands flying out to brace yourself on his shoulders. Your hips roll, rock slowly.
For a moment itâs just heavy breathing, little gasps, the slick sound of your bodies.
Yuuji ups your pace a little, forcing you to bear down more, move faster.
Megumiâs hips buck up, the head of his cock catching on your centerâ
You moan and the noise Megumi makes almost sounds like a broken growl, his control thinly leashed.
âCondom?â he gets out, just barely keeping himself sane, barely keeping himself from pushing into you.
Yuujiâs snicker is done into the curve of your neck, cheeks flushed, nipping at the skin there.
âDonât n-need one,â you shudder, lifting your hips a little, reaching down finally to take hold of Megumiâs cock, to line him up to where youâre aching. Megumi is careful to hold perfectly still, to let you do it, to set your own paceâ
Yuujiâs hands flex on your waist, though, before he suddenly pulls you down all in one go onto Megumiâs aching cock.
Both of your mouths fall open, hands clutching for each other, as pleasure floods hot and warm inside of Megumi. Youâre velvety warm and tightâ so tight andâ
Your cry is higher pitched, almost a wail. Megumiâs is something from deep within his chest, fingers digging into your thighs, creeping up against Yuujiâs, too.
âThere,â Yuuji murmurs, lifting your hips only to drop them again, playing around with setting the tempo, watching Megumiâs face twist up into pleasure, watching the way you throw your head back and gasp. âHowâs that feel? You like being full, donât you?â Yuuji urges you a little faster, eyes alight and hungry.
âYeahâso deepâ you gasp, shifting one of your hands to cover Yuujiâs, fitting it along your own body, the other laying flat against Megumiâs stomach for support. âYou feel so good,â you mewl, arching as Yuuji forces your hips down, keeping you down on his cock.
Megumi has to bite back a moan that feels terribly pathetic.
Your hips squirm helplessly against Yuujiâs hold, but heâs just so strongâ
âFuck,â Megumi hisses, his own hips flexing upwardsâ
(You make the cutest, âah!â sound when he does that.)
âItadori, let go of her.â Megumi grounds out, his grip on your thighs turning painful.
âI donât know,â Yuuji says, watching the two of you with a spark in his eyes, all boyishly handsome mischief, all trouble, like heâs just discovered a secret, âI kinda like watching you both squirm.â
âItadoriââ Megumi growls.
âI like when you say my name like that,â he says pleasantly, just before Megumi lurches into sitting up straight. He grabs Yuujiâs jaw tight, squeezes so his lips part and pucker a little. Yuujiâs pupils blow wide and dark. He shifts against your back, squirming in Megumiâs hold. Yuujiâs eyes gloss over with desire, raw and unfiltered before he gives in, uncharacteristically softened, âalright, alrightââ
Yuuji lets you go, holding his hands up in defeat, in submission.
Both you and Megumi move at once, desperately, clinging to each other. Yuujiâs hands creep back up your body, fondling your breasts, squeezing at your thighs. He leans away fractionally if only to watch the way Megumi disappears inside you, velvety walls clinging to him with every thrust.
Megumi fastens his lips to your neck, sucks hard, feels your walls clench and flutter around him in a way that makes him groan into your skin.
âShe feels so good, doesn't she?â Yuuji asks, eyes still glued to where your bodies are connected, âso wet and tight and hotââ itâs like heâs imagining you himself now, âI lose my mind whenever Iâm inside her.â
Yuuji starts helping lift your hips again when he notices your thighs trembling, âand sheâs wanted you so badâshouldâve heard her the other night, made her say your name when she touched herself.â
Megumiâs brain goes perfectly blank for a minute, fingers spasming around your soft skin, eyes suddenly dazed at the thought.
âYou said his name, too,â you whimper back, tucking your face into Megumiâs shoulder, crying a little when he bucks up into you sharply. âAhâ fuck, Megumiââ
A breathless laugh bursts from Yuuji, âyeah, just like thatâ do you want him to come inside you?â
Megumi groans, feeling half out of his mind, stomach flipping, cock throbbing desperately inside of you, âItadoriâshut up. Shut up or Iâm going toââ
âAh, please, pleaseââm close again.â You gasp, clawing at Megumiâs shoulders.
âJustâhold onââ
Yuujiâs hand squirms between your bodies, finds your slippery, soft clit and works quickly, face flushed as he kisses and mouths at your shoulder. Megumi has to squeeze his eyes shut, canât watch or heâllâ
âThere, thatâs it,â Yuuji murmurs the moment your body tightens up, and Megumi can feel you, feel the way you tighten and flutter around him, squeezing so tight. He can feel the way you soak his thighs, can distantly hear the sharp, high pitched little cry you give out.
Youâre trembling so bad, but Megumi canât help himself.
âFuck,â he spits out, then begins babbling as he thrusts up into you, âyou feel so good, f-feel so fucking goodâwanted this for so longââ
He only manages a few more hard thrusts up into you before his eyes just about roll into the back of his head, pleasure racing through him like a rushing wave. He forces you down onto his cock and keeps you there as he floods you, hot and sticky and sweet. His hips twitch in aborted thrusts, rocking into you, making more of a mess. He damn near whimpers, clinging tight, feeling desperate and tender.
You slump between him and Yuuji, so limp that Yuuji has to keep you up.
Fondness bursts inside of him the way a ripe fruit might, sweet and slippery, as he watches Yuuji pepper kisses on the top of your head, cooing to you softly. Your hands slip from around Megumiâs shoulders, falling slack. But Megumi buries his face in the crux of your neck, âOkay?â he asks softly, nudging gently at you, hands beginning to move soothingly over you.
âYeah,â you sigh, a little dreamy, a little in awe, âreally okay.â
He catches Yuujiâs eye over your shoulder and for some reason, as if compelled, he tips his head up, offers himself to him, letâs Yuuji kiss him again. Not as rough, his nose nudging into Megumiâs cheek, but still with a needy edge to it, the soft pink of his tongue licking into Megumiâs mouth eagerly.
âI know youâre both exhausted,â Yuuji mumbles against his lips, âbut âm still really hard.â
Megumiâs cock gives a twitch inside of you and your sleepy eyes flutter open.
âLay her down,â Megumi murmurs, letting Yuuji shift out of the way so that Megumi can lay you down gently, head cocooned by the pillow. When he sits up, he finally pulls out of you with a hiss of breath, with your little whimper.
Yuujiâs beside him now, watching with bright eyes as cum spills slow and thick from where youâre still fluttering and sensitive.
Megumi gulps.
He swears his blush reaches down to his chest.
Yuuji makes a noise like a wounded animal, somewhere between a whine and a groan.
He settles between your legs again, watching for a moment, before his tongue darts outâ
You try to squirm away from him, voice pitched and squeaky when you try and protest, âYuuji, thatâsââ But it tapers off into a moan that almost sounds painful.
Megumi feels heat flood him again, watching Yuuji, hearing him groan into you.
You have tears slipping down your cheeks, tossing your head back onto the pillow and trying to twist away. Megumiâs interest is piqued seeing you so wrecked, but a greater part of him is still tentative and protective, new to all of this.
âI-Itadori, leave her alone,â he rasps, pulling at Yuujiâs muscled shoulder, gripping a little tighter when he doesnât listen at first.
But after a moment, he pulls himself away, sits back up with his eyes feverish and hair a mess, short tufts of pink sticking up in every direction. His lips are shining and slick with you, with himâ
He kisses him again, chest heaving, hands greedy and seeking, reaching down to grasp at Yuujiâs cock. Itâs thick and heavy in his hand, making his stomach dip in excitement.
He feels Yuujiâs whine almost more than he hears it, and feels the way his hips buck up eagerly into his fist.
Yuuji pulls himself away, glancing down to watchâ
(He likes to watch, Megumi realizes with a start, likes to watch everything happen.)
Megumi looks down, too, nudging Yuujiâs head with his own, before he letâs spit gather behind his lips. He opens his mouth a little, letâs it fall and drip down onto the mauve tip of Yuujiâs cock. He gathers it in his palm, then uses it on the next pump, slicking him up.
Yuuji groans loud and shamelessly.
ââM not gonna lastâI swear I usually last longer than this,â Yuuji pushes his face into the crook of Megumiâs neck, hands gripping him tightly, desperately.
Megumi would say something smart, maybe, if he wasnât so busy watching his hand move over Yuuji, watching Yuuji fuck into his fist almost feverishly.
He glances at you, notices the way youâve perked up, propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch them with a dazed look on your face. Itâs so raw, so filled with lust and affection and love.
âFuck, fuckââ Yuuji gasps and Megumi feels his cock spasm, feels it jerk in his hold before his hands grow sticky and warm, his stomach, Yuujiâs stomach, too.
Yuuji slumps against him then and Megumi canât help but do the same. With his clean hand, he runs it up Yuujiâs flank, just because he can, just to feel Yuuji try and squirm closer.
But after a moment, when their breath is caught, Yuuji perks back up, blinking away the haze a little. He looks at you, at his own body sticky with fluids, and then declares heâs going to get a rag.
Itâs damp and warm when Yuuji returns and Megumi expects him to just hand it to him, but Yuuji is adamant about doing it himself. He wipes carefully at Megumiâs hands, forcing Megumi to lay back to wipe at his stomach in delicate swipes, too. And then you, even gentler somehow with where youâre no doubt sore and tender.
The moment youâre clean enough, you curl into Yuujiâs chest and he gathers you into his arms. It looks so natural, the way you hold each other. Endearment races through Megumi.
âSorry we neglected you,â you murmur into Yuujiâs throat.
Megumi tentatively curls himself around your back, turning onto his side, and when you sigh, he nuzzles closer. His hands are careful around the curves of your ribs.
âI like watching,â Yuuji says happily, kissing at your forehead, hooking his leg over yours, over Megumiâs, too. âBesides, weâve got all night. And all morning. All of tomorrow, too, reallyââ
You share a glance over your shoulder with Megumi.
âDo you plan on keeping us in your bed that long?â You ask, burrowing back down into their arms.
âKinda,â Yuuji smiles all crooked and boyish, âthereâs just so much I want to try.â
âGuess itâs gonna be a long night, âgumi.â You say and though Megumi canât quite see it, he can hear the smile in your voice.
âAll nighter?â Yuuji asks with a wiggle of his brows.
âNo, Megumi gets grouchy if he doesnât get a lot of sleep.â You say cheekily.
Megumi pinches at your side. You yelp, before it blossoms into the sweetest laugh. Megumi canât help but melt with it, softening the way Yuuji does at the sound.
âI donât get grouchy,â Megumu mumbles into the sweet curve of your shoulder, his lips are just a petal soft brush against your skin.
You and Yuuji both laugh now, and can feel it reverberate from you to him, all along his chest, feel it settle deep into the healed parts of his tender insides. Sink into his bones, twine with the finally calm drum of his heart.
The evening gives way to sweet night, warm and balmy, the moon a gentle curve in the sky outside the window.
He gets messy again, makes a mess, too. Heâs going to be sore, knows you probably wonât be able to walk well tomorrow. Yuujiâs got a bite mark so deep he wonders if he should put a bandaid over it.
But itâs all love, pressed into each other, sewed along the scars and the crooks of bodies.
Itâs all love, showered over him the way rain falls on flowers.
And he blossoms, blooms into it with the reverence and humility of a man finally fed after being starved.
He blossoms the way bluebells do, sweet and slow and enduring.
***
Itâs too hot to be lugging boxes heavier than him up an impossible flight of stairs.
âItadori, hurry up!â Nobara snaps, clinging desperately to a box that is rapidly slipping from her grip.
âDo you want me to drop this box?â Yuuji snaps back, taking another painstakingly slow step up the stairs with a box that is certainly heavier and broader than Yuuji by far. Itâs a miracle he hasnât slipped back down the stairs or dropped it.
âWell, Iâm gonna drop this one if you donât move!â
Megumi comes around to help Nobara with the box in her hands, setting the smaller one heâd been carrying down on the landing below them. Heâll come back for it. Right before the box can slip from Nobaraâs hands, heâs got the other side of it, helping her lift it.
âFushiguro, tell your boyfriend to hurry up.â
âItadori, hurry up.â
âOh, câmon, youâre supposed to be on my side!â
Thereâs more complaints and more struggling as Yuuji finally gets one of the heaviest boxes to the next landing. Megumi walks backwards up the stairs so Nobara wonât complain. They set the box down on top of the bigger one and Megumi eyes the next flight of stairs.
âDid you and Maki have to be on the fifth floor?â Yuuji whines.
You and Maki follow up the rear of the group, smaller boxes in both of your arms. You both ease past the three of them.
âCâmon, guys, one more flight.â You tell them cheerily, heading right on up. Maki follows right after.
The three of them eye you both, eyes twitching as they look at their own, much larger boxes.
Itâs a long day of getting everything into their new apartment. But eventually, you all lay sprawled out on the floor, spread out among boxes and furniture thatâs been pushed into the apartment but not placed correctly.
Itâs a mess and thereâs still plenty more to do.
But Megumi thinks they can leave the rest up to Maki and Nobara. Itâs their place, anyways. And you and Yuuji look tired, with you leaning against his side and Yuuji spread out like a star-fish on the floor.
âThis place is nice,â Yuuji comments, âbetter than the dorms.â Yuuji throws his hand out towards you and Megumi, âwe should get the apartment right next door!â
âNo,â Nobara and Maki say in unison.
âNow you guys are just being mean!â
Your snicker is cute, felt against Megumiâs shoulder. You reach out towards Yuujiâs extended hand, creep your fingers into his palm. He tries to snap shut his hand and catch you but you jerk yours away with a laugh. You put your fingers back in his hand tentatively, yelping a little when he catches you and pulls you towards him.
âCan we order takeout?â Yuuji asks the group, pulling at your hand a little more.
âAfter you move our couch to where we want it,â Maki tells him.
âWhy do I have to?â Yuuji whines.
âBecause youâve got that freak strength.â Nobara replies.
Yuuji huffs, ââm tired.â
You finally heave yourself up, âcâmon, Yuu, weâll help you.â Youâre still holding onto his hand and now give it a little tug to urge him up.
âWeâll?â Megumi asks, quirking a brow at you.
You help pull Yuuji up and then you offer your hand to Megumi, wiggling your fingers at him invitingly.
âYeah, get up, then we can order food.â You say and Megumi, without even thinking, takes your hand in his. You pull him up, too.
Yuuji doesnât need your help, but Megumi thinks he likes the principle of it, anyway. He does throw himself down onto the newly moved couch, though, and Nobara yells at him for that, too.
Food is ordered. Boxes are shifted around. Megumi offers the red peppers he wonât eat to Yuuji and you, who take them without a word. Itâs painfully natural. Small rituals that heâs already become used to.
And at the end of the night, he heads home with you and Yuuji. Youâre tucked up against his side, yawning sleepily. Yuuji wanders a bit ahead. But he turns around frequently to talk, walking backwards as he looks at you two.
Heâs got stars in his eyes as he does. And your laughter, your voice, is melodic, carrying up to the night sky. Moonlight has never looked better than on you.
Megumi falls into bed with both of you, exhaling slowly as you roll onto his chest, as Yuuji curls up on his other side. He drags his hand over the curve of your spine, his other disappears into Yuujiâs soft hair.
âLove you,â you mumble, first to Megumi, to the heartbeat at his throat, and then, âlove you, Yuuji.â
âLove you, too,â Yuuji slurs, eyes already heavy, lashes fluttering to fall shut peacefully, âyou too, Fushiguro.â
Your breathing evens out, breaths soft against his skin.
Megumi feels his own heart soothe and gentle, tempo slowing for easy sleep. He letâs his eyes flutter shut.
Tonight, he is content.
Tomorrow he will be, too, when the birds sing and Yuuji wakes him and the sunshine clings to you all morning.
Tonight, Megumi says into the blue darkness, caressed in shadows, holding and being held;
âwhen you desire something.. you canât help but want to destroy it.â
á ê° pairing : ăvampire!ăl.hs x fem!reader
á ê° ... word / count : 5,892
á ê° â warnings â [non-con(?) / dub-con (more dubious than none) ] , explicit smut , blood kink / play (oops) , obsessiveă yandereă, profanity , oral f receiving , unprotected sex , rough sex .
>>> â SYNOPSIS : in which heeseung, who has isolated himself from humanity for 200 years comes into contact with a human, a girl, and cannot help but unleash his desire after yearning for so long. â
á ê° extra note : this is based off the desire : unleash concept cinema ~ please watch it !!
âââ mdni ,, i do not condone any of this behaviour in reality, please do not read this if you are sensitive to taboo writing . this does not portray the true character of lee heeseung whatsoever ! â.á
you cursed to yourself, the seamlessly never-ending trees towering over youâ too tall, too uniform, in an almost menacing way â mocking you for even getting yourself into this situation.
it was supposed to be a small hike, one that ended shortly after setting, but you managed to go off trail, and now you were circling the same area for a prolonged amount of time.
the sun had begun to set, coincidentally, the twilight sky peaking amongst the litters of trees, reaching for your phone, you sighed, seeing the zero signal bars.
it was truly like everything was against your favour today.
albeit the multitude of hindrances, you were very much aware of the dangers that loomed if you stayed out beyond the safety net of daytime. vampire hunting incidents had become frequent, especially after the airing of that one late night show, it was frankly quite daunting, and you did not want to be another number to those incidents.
you were beginning to become increasingly more nervous, passing by the same tree that you had marked twenty minutes prior with a small, pink hairclip.
âfuckâ where was the trail?â you cursed under your breath, biting the inner part of your cheek, watching as the sun had completely tucked itself away, the moon high above the sky, gleaming, illuminating the foliage below you, also cascading through the canopy of trees.
there was a heavy onset of fog, clouding your vision even further than before, ironically, which had risen quickly once the sun had set. tears had welled in your eyes, actually realising your fear and swallowing it whole, you were lost, but more importantlyâ alone.
alone, in this entire forest, dark, lonelyâ quiet, like it was holding its breath.
for something to happen.
luckily, your phone was connected to a portable charger â using it as a flashlight to navigate through the twisting trees, your senses on high alert, begging to see the trail sign once again. your eyes darted around, scanning each tree with your phone, walking aimlessly, your breathing almost erratic.
your heart dropped when you heard another crunch of the dried leaves below, a noise that you hadnât madeâ instantly swivelling around, backing up into a tree, which felt like a momentary safety, holding your breath.
you froze.
âhello?â you mustered, chest moving up and down, whilst your free hand came into contact with a hairbrush in your small bag, on guard for anything that might come, âis someone there?â
the leaves began to crunch again, but more alarmingly, in your direction. theyâitâ was moving, and to you.
not rushing, not chasing, nor hesitant â just.. approaching you.
âstay back! i swear, i have a fucking knife!â you yelped out â your shaking voice betraying the faux confidence you attempted to portray. the lie sounded fragile immediately after you had said it. until the noises were loud enough you could pinpoint whichever direction it came from, your light source shifting to the noises.
a manâwho was pretty young, handsome â looked at you, almost confused, concerned at your panicked, scared stateâ but there was a certain degree of wrongness around him that didnât chase or threaten, but lingered, awareâ enjoyingâ your fear.
âyouâre shaking,â he stated, faintly. not accusatory, nor overly concerned either, but merely an observation.
âyeahâ no wonder, you scared the shit out of me,â you replied, sharply, narrowing your gaze at him. there was a beat between you two, staring at each other, before he broke the awkward silence.
âare you lost?â he asked, nothing more beyond that, looking at you quietly.
you hesitated.
âyes.â
another pause followed, the fog curling and twisting around you, infinitely swallowing the shallow horizon, not allowing you to see further past himâ only him, and he nodded, pursing his lips momentarily, before offering a small, uneven smile.
âi can take you to my house. nearby,â he added, âitâs not safe out here. at night time.â
weighing up your optionsâ it was either the lonely, dark forest, or the supposed house, with a man you had just met. obviously, neither option was optimal, but considering that you never really had a choice to begin with made you lean towards the option that seemed slightly safer. especially with all the.. vampire attacks. you were exhausted, scared, but painfully aware of the dangers that existed, eyes flicking to the forest againâ all familiar sights, every direction symmetrical to the last, endlessly meandering, no trail, no sign, no escape. the forest listened to you.
âis that a yes?â he followed, already turning, walking, the leaves snapping under each step he took, glancing back at you for a short second.
you picked up your pace, walking a few steps behind him, cautiously.
âhave you seen the attacks?â you askedâ carefully, not wanting to tread too far on a taboo matter, but more to warnâ him, both about the attacks, but how you were still guarded around him.
the way he replied felt wrong, almost like it was a silent threat â safe never really felt like the correct word, but you were too tired to let your mind wander on his word choices.
âwhatâs your name?â he asked, continuously walking ahead of you â not even looking back after asking, he was confident that you would be following behind him, he knew you would, in these conditions.
âmy name is [y/n],â you replied, watching him. itâs like he didnât feel any inch of fear, not to have his back turned to a stranger in this gloomy, forsaken forest. his muscles didnât twitch at any noises that didnât belong, nor did he ever look in any other direction except for forward or at you.
âhow about you?â
âheeseung.â
after what seemed like an eternity of walking, an immense house emerged from the fog â outlines barely visible in the thick, viscous layer of fog and mist. it was nestled almost unnaturally, contrasting the thick foliage, the moonlight reflecting off the polished marble, the pristine glass frames, elegantly illuminating the beauty of the mansion. it seemed dated â old, like a century or two older than what it couldâve been. it seemedâ well taken care of, despite noticing the cracks running up the walls like veins, or the ivy hugging the pillars, unchecked, as if given permission to decorate the marble.
pristine. but also neglected. immaculate, in the wrong ways.
âthis.. house is really big.â you murmured to him, walking past an imposing, rigid iron gate with intricate patterns in the metal, âyou live here alone?â
he hummed softly in response, opening the door, with little resistance â as if the place listened to his command.
the air was stagnant within the mansion, humidâ yet still, a faintly metallic smell lingering onto the furnitureâ grandiose with luxurious patterns and expensive wood designs. some items had a thin, cream linen sheet thrown atop them, layers of dust clouded over them, except for one particular itemâ a large grand piano, in the middle of the room, touched, usedâ the most out of anything else.
your fear hadnât disappeared. no.
it had simply changed shape.
âiâll make you some tea. itâll help you stop shaking,â he murmured, wandering off, leaving you standing in a full yet empty room, and you allowed yourself to take a seat on the sofa â covered with a plastic sheet, like it hadnât ever been used. his footsteps made no noise, silent, even against the cold, marble floors. your eyes flickered around the room, noticing the candle lights that seemed to stutter at the absence of heeseung, or the way that the shadows were slightly incorrect, shifted slightly in abnormal positions.
you noticed a slight murmur from a small television â a retro machine, looping the same showâ the one interview with a vampire, on the late night show.
âthere is a tremendous amount of fascination surrounding your kind. do you still feel emotions?â
âyou know. love? guilt? desire?â
âdesire. thatâs the one thing that never dies.â
heeseung returned shortly after, passing you a cup â his hand brushing yours, coldâ eerily, uncannily cold, not painfully or strikingly so, but enough for you to realise the difference between your hand and his handâs temperature, his eyes flickered to the television for a short secondâ before instantaneously moving back to yours.
he stood across from you, watching, as you took a cautious sip of the tea, your lips yearning for the satisfying liquid after depriving yourself of any drinks due to finishing your water up earlier, quenching your thirst. he stood, still, immovable, unchanging, even as you set your cup down, looking at him with wide-eyes.
âand what happens when you love someone?â
âwhen you truly, deeply love them? desire them?â
âyou desire to destroy the things you love.â
âthank you.â
he nodded, âiâll show you somewhere to stay. until morning. at first light, i will show you back to the trail.â
you let out a small, weak smile, nodding up to him â unaware, like they all were.
he paused. the silence was almost unbearable for you.
âif thatâs true- if you desire to destroy what you love,â
âthen what do you love?â
âis it a curse?â
âitâs desire.â
âfollow me,â he said â though it sounded like a command, turning again to walk, up the twisting stairs, and through a long corridor, illuminated only by candle flames. the hallway accepted you â stretching ahead longer than it should have, distorting before you, despite the way your footsteps seemed delayedâ a moment too short.
âhow long have you lived here?â you asked.
âa while,â he repliedâ nothing more.
the answer felt complete to him. it wasnât to you.
finally, he stopped before one doorâ identical to the rest, opening itâ revealing a large bedroom, with delicate silks, cleaner than the other areas, no dust, bed made, the window looking out into nothing but darkness. you followed behind him as he stepped through into the room, glancing at youâ for a second too long, his eyes flicking up and down.
âyou can stay here for the night. thereâs a bathroom through that door, if you would like to take a shower.â he said, gesturing, before looking back at you with a sharp, narrowing gaze.
âthere are rules. you must listen to them. listen to me, okay?â he said, almost reassuringly, which felt out of place, slightly incorrect, wrong.
âdonât leave your room after youâre settled. do not open any doors that look familiar. donât explore more than you need to.â he stated, firmly, unchanging of his tone â like a warning to you, affirmative, set in place like it had been chiselled into stone.
you nodded, and his gaze softened slightly, turning around, closing the door gently, and the click of latch sounded like a messageâ soft, but final.
time felt like it passed poorly in that room, despite the faint tick of the clock, minutes shifted into seconds, seconds shifted into hours â it was completely erratic. your heartbeat never calmed, not even slightly, remaining fast, on alert, as did your senses. it knew that there was something uncanny about heeseung, despite his good looks, something that seemed liminal about him.
the candle lights didnât dim, nor did the air cool beyond a certain point, continuously recycling the same humid air, the curtains swayed softly despite no breeze blowing on them. your phone couldnât receive any signal, and the time seemed to display the exact same numbers despite how often you checked.
nor could you sleep.
the bed was large, beautiful â as if it had been made for olden royalty, but now a myth. the mattress was hard, but comfortable â the pillows were soft, but it never creaked, never shifted, no matter how much you tossed and turned, and as you laid â staring at the ceiling that had intricate patterns, curiosity began to coarse through your veins, itching your skin.
you stood up â curious like a cat, looking through the drawers, starting small, as your mind darted back to his eerie set of rules, thinking for a moment, before pressing your ear against the door, only to be met with silence.
nothing more. nothing less.
you opened the door, the hallway unchanging, the lights humming and sputtering slightly, stepping out â pulse quickening, every instinct telling you to stop, to turn back to safety, but you felt such a strong desire to learn more.
you noticed a door afar, left slightly ajar â like an invitation, and as you step through the corridor, your curiosity becomes tantalising, like an urge to be satiated.
inside, the air is stiflingâ colder than the rest of the rooms, and you eagerly scan through the remnants of the roomâ items strewn over a desk, tucked into bookshelves. you notice one itemâ a newspaper, dating back to the 1800s, yellowed with time, like an artifact, flicking through the crinkled pages, thereâs one certain page that causes you to hesitateâ to pause.
itâs headlined with a large image of seven men â but your eyes widen when you recognise one face in particular â heeseung. you close the paper instantly, a shiver running up your spine maliciously, placing the paper down onto the desk again, before shifting your curiosity onto another object, albeit more hesitant this time, cautious on what you may discover.
the next item you discovered was a notebookâ worn with time, some pages inscribed with a cursive handwriting you could just about decipher. it mustâve been heeseungâs, and you let your desire to snoop get the best of you, reading through a page.
âi try so hard to hide it, but it resurfaces from time to time. no matter how hard i try, i canât escape it,â you mutter to yourself, furrowing your eyebrows at what he meantâ closing the notebook, and picking up another item of fascination to look at.
you sift through some old photos within an albumâ each dating back to almost hundreds of years ago, looking through, you see a warped photo of a girl, the image faded, the edges slightly cut like it had been handled too often. the girl stood before the mansion, the very one you stood within.
your stomach dropped.
it wasnât that she looked familiar. that was quite literally you. the way your hair settled, the way your smile widened, the way youâno, she, stoodâ was all like you.
turning the photo aroundâ 1897. below, in neat, delicate handwriting.
[y/n].
your fingers went numb, dropping the photo, opening the cabinet with shaking handsâ noticing something that you hadnât seen beforeâ bags full of blood.
heeseung was a vampire.
you didnât hear him enter the room.
âi told you to not snoop,â he said gently, his voice straightlacedâ unwavering despite the fearful expression adorning your face. your body spun around instinctively, looking at him like a deer caught in headlights, âi warned you, [y/n].â
isolation had become a virtue for heeseung, the absence of all a discipline, thinning his desire into something merely theoretical, rather a conceptâ but it hadnât dissipated completely. not at all. it was an inevitable battle he fought each and every day, the urges clawing into his every fibre like a monster stalking him consistently. the forest kept a certain stillness, directing those who awakened any hunger away, the house maintaining the silence.
you disrupted that stillness.
the hungerâ desireâ stirred within him, sharp, dangerously, as if it was awakening from a long sleeping state, it wasnât merely a thirstâ but your warmth, your pulse, your heartbeat, the hesitation in your breath, the hitch of your pulse when you were frightened. your presence registered as something defined, your warmth excessive, yet intoxicating.
and now, you would pay the price for letting curiosity kill the cat.
âfuck.. [y/n], i really tried to not let my desire get the best of me. i smelled you from the very beginning, your sweet smell, and i tried to leave you be, seriously,â he murmured, hoarsely, his eyes darker now â a stark contrast to the gentle gaze he had earlier.
you stood before him, hands trembling as your eyes widened â completely taken aback in the change of his tone. panic rose like a tide in your chest, and suddenly the air felt too thickâ your legs obeying before your mind could settle a thought.
run.
you bolted, past him, slamming the door behind you â to try and throw him off, slow him down. the hallway seemed to stretch before youâ warping, the lights flickering in strange patterns, doors that you had taken a mental account of prior had disappeared in the mansion, your steps slapping against the marble with desperation. your lungs burned, aching, the cold, stagnant air suffocating you with each stride you took, navigating yourself through the twisting hallways.
âkeep running. it makes you look even prettier,â his voice murmured â everywhere and nowhere.
you dashed down the stairs that appeared before you, your vision blurring with panic, the stairs twisting slightly, the flame of the distant fireplace roaring, and the keys of the piano playing despite no one being there â playing a soft melody, comforting yet cold. your trembling hand grasped the front door handle, pushing it open with much resistance â like it was fighting back against you, running outside, allowing the mist to embrace you as you stumbled out into the forest.
tears had finally begun to fall, as you realised your desperate state. branches tore at your sleeves, the earth below you uneven, cold, wet, stumbling and almost trippingâ your chest heaving, your head darting back every so often to look behind you â seeing nothing, but feeling so aware of his presence stalking your every step, you ran blindly, weaving through the trees, for a promise of escapeâ hoping to see the familiar trail. the moonlight filtered through the canopy, pale, unnatural, casting white thin shadows that twisted when they shouldn't.
âso naĂŻve,â he whispered againâ softly, almost mockingly.
you let out a sob, attempting to run straight, but every single path you took, curved back toward the mansionâs grand, looming silhouette. your foot caught on a root, falling forward, your knees crunching the leaves below harshly, your chest heavingâ unable to catch your breath again, your hands scraped.
âyou canât run.â
a movementâ silentâ shortâ passed beyond the trees, and you frozeâ hoping it was merely your mind playing tricks on you, scrambling upright, your head spinning, looking to see nothing but endless fog beyond the same twisted trunks.
too close, too fastâ he stepped out from the shadows, caging you in, your pulse surging, terror murderously shredding through your thoughts, his movements precise, gliding, like something not human.
âi isolated myself for so long, [y/n]. to protect myself from desireâ to protect you, but you walk back into my life so easily. i tried to deny myself of the very thoughts,â he gritted, his hands wandering on your bodyâ on your waist, on your hips, holding you roughly.
the mist curled around him, swirling, and the shadows set for him, like the forest bent to his very willâ listening obediently to his every demand. it felt liberating, almost, to finally let his desire overcome his urges, to truly live as what he was.
âthat wasnât meâ i didnât exist in that past,â you stutteredâ mustering all the courage you could, gauging the fact that your very existence, life, was in his hands â to decide whether he could kill you, and leave your body here for no one to find.
not now, not ever.
âyour fear smells so sweet to me. you can deny it, [y/n], you can reject itâ but as long as your blood courses through those pretty veins, i know who you really are,â he added, his hands dangerously reaching your thighs, âyouâll always be mine.â
âare you going to kill me?â you squealedâ looking at him, terrified.
âif i wanted to kill youâ i wouldâve done it the moment our eyes met. i wouldâve if you were anyone else.â
and you knew, with a shivering certainty, that escape had never been possible.
his lips sucked in a breath, his face nearing your bare neck, leaving small, soft kisses against the untouched skin, his bared fangs grazing down your collarbone.
âyou want this.â
you stay silent â out of fear, maybe out of desire â itâs really pathetic, you canât help but clench your thighs together, not rejecting, but still not accepting his greedy, lustful touches, that wander down, wherever he chooses.
âiâll make you remember. every touch we shared. every moan you made for me, every time you called out my name.â he followed, his teeth finally sinking down into your neck, as you trembled, letting out a painful yelp, tears cascading down your cheeksâ your hands pushing his chest, attempting to get him away, which rendered useless as he lapped up the scarlet liquid that your body offered.
he let out a small groan against your skin, sucking, biting, âfuckâ it really is as sweet as i remember.â
his lips parted from your neck, looking to your sweet, delicate lips, placing his against yours â forcing you to taste the metallic taste of your own blood, albeit your nervous reciprocation of his kiss.
âdonât worryâ the venom will kick in soon. iâll make you feel good. i promise.â
his hands moved down, ripping your shirt in a quick, steady motion, letting the blood trail down your neck, and he began to suck and nip at your chest, one hand fondling your boobs with rough desire.
his face wandered lower â to your pants, and he readily tore a hole into them, met with the barrier of your panties. his tongue grazed against the soft fabric, taking in your scent with everything â allowing himself to lose himself completely in desire, your blood on his lipsâ staining the white of your panties, dying red splotches onto them. he flicked his tongue directly against your core, already embarrassingly soaking the fabricâ letting out a small whimper, your muscles jolted at the feeling.
heeseung hooked his fingers around the waistband of your pants, pulling them down, and letting them pool at your ankles, taking your panties down with themâ so he could finally taste you again, his tongue beginning to circle your clit in precise motions, softly sucking at it, his hand reaching up to probe a finger inside your dripping hole, quickly adding another two, stretching you as he lapped at your pussy, curling them in a delicious manner that made your walls clutch around him.
he watched your expression with a half-lidded gaze, taking in every mewl you made, how you looked away from himâ flushed in fear and panic, swallowing every flinch your body produced â his eyes darkened greedily, feeling an overwhelming sense of possession, pride, at the sight of your trembling lips, your shaky breaths, the sparkle down your thighs.
his fingers parted your glistening folds, staring directly at your fluttering holeâ readily accepting his fingers that slipped into you, submitting to him completely, despite your mind saying otherwise.
ân-no.. stop..â
your thighs trembled around himâ bunching your hands in a fistâ letting out louder whines, until his lips detached, and his fingers left your insides with a small, wet noise.
your eyes darted to him, and he quickly got upâ pushing you against a tree, your back against his chestâ it was almost like you were disappointed at the lack of your climax, denied by his rejection.
âi canât wait any longer.â
his hands quickly took out his hard cock, pushing into you with one swift motionâ your back arching, fingers digging into the treeâ the bark sinking underneath your nails, in an almost painful manner.
you let out a yelpâ or even, a scream, at the feeling of being stretched beyond your will, your head throbbing, helpless to his eagerness, to his violation.
ânoâ no, stop..â you mewled, your voice trailing offâ eyes shutting momentarily, before rolling back in pleasure. one of his hands made its way back to your fluttering clit, rubbing circles roughly as he thrusted into you, pounding your sweet pussy with feverish intent.
âyou feel good, donât youâ sweet thing?â he asked through a guttural groan, enjoying the sight of ruining you, consuming his desire. you shook your head, attempting to maintain some dignity, which led to him clicking his tongue in response.
âdonât lieâ or iâll stop and leave you here,â he clicked, âunfulfilled.â
âsay it. tell me, be honest, sweetâ youâre enjoying this?â
âyes! yes! it feels so good when you s-split me open on your cock!â you whined, panting, almost in desperation to reach your climax, to come apart on his length.
tears trailed down your cheek as you reluctantly took his entire length, letting out loud moans, your hands clawing at the tree, almost painfully. your cunt clenched around him covetously, blood still trailing down from the bite wound on your neck, which he silently adores. his other hand holds your waist, slamming your hips back onto his, whilst he drives into youâ hitting a certain spot within you that has you seeing stars.
âfuckâ fuck.. so fucking tight, taking me so well, pussy was made for me,â he growls â almost animalistic, his vampire urges taking over his calmer demeanour from before, âmine foreverâ iâll never let you go again.â
his relentless rhythm continues on, forcing moans out of your lips whether you want it or not, causing your hips to stutter and your thighs to stifleâ his teeth latch down onto your shoulder, biting down againâ as you let out a whine in both pain and pleasure. the venom has begun to cloud your mind with the very desire that infects him, hazing your mind despite your protests.
heeseung isolated himself to protect himself from desire, the monster that haunts himâ but now, with your pussy sucking him in so deliciously, and the taste of your bloodâ he has accepted his true nature, pushing himself even deeper than beforeâ slamming his hips against you brutally, the sounds of skin slapping and wet, cringe-worthy, noises filling the silence of the forest.
âyou take me so well. i know you want this,â he repeats, through a vibration against your shoulder, and you let out a shaky moan in return to his words, âlike i want it.â
your head reels forward, resting it against the rough, gritty tree, each thrust forcing your forehead to push against it, using the tree as leverage as he drives into you greedilyâ like it wasnât enough for him, like he wanted to fully devourâdestroy you.
humiliation filled you, and you knew as much as he did, that you were sickeningly enjoying this, basking in your own pleasure as he split you open on his length, drowning in a rotten ecstasy. your cheeks flushed, lips parting as whimpers and moans trailed out your mouth with such easeâ his name, chanting his name as he filled you with such strong desire. his breath shuddered against your shoulder, lapping up some remnants of dried blood, hot, and ragged, each desperate exhale leaving goosebumps against your skin.
the fog swallowed the pair of youâ the litters of leaves crunched beneath you, each movement causing the breaking of a fragile leaf, the forest silent albeit the loud whines you exhaled like a songâ a sweet song just for him.
he rutted into youâ almost animalistically, as if the desire that he had tried so hard to bury had reached its entirety, completely drowning him in a misty, hazy mind, telling him one thingâ to claim you, to show you his desire, to make you feel his desire. he fucked you with such brutal intensity, the noises echoed in the nature around you, driven by this single motive of strong desire.
âiâm gonna ruin you, [y/n]. destroy you, so youâll understand my desire,â he growled, his hips moving against yours fervently, âiâll make you fall apart on me.â
âi-i canât take more, heeseungââ
âyou can, sweet thing. listen to how pretty your moans are when you call my name. do you hear the noises your pussy makes?â
the rhythm is filthy, how he suffocates in your very essence, how his face flushes, moving past your neckâ past your jaw, and capturing your lips, intoxicated with lust and desire, as your lips melt back into his, a messy, almost incomplete kiss, but satisfying him regardless. his lips are soft, but you taste a metallic taste, blood, yours, against his lips, smudging against your lips, messily.
âdo you feel the way your hole tightens around me? like it was made for me?â
you feel tears streaking down your face â but you know they are solely out of pleasure now, especially when he fills you up so well, when his cock bullies your hole with each greedy, almost degrading thrust, most likely bruising your insides, as you feel his tip kissing your cervix, almost comfortably for him.
âiâm so deep inside of you,â he exhales hoarsely, almost as if he was beggingâ pleading, âiâll fuck you again, and againâ iâll drink your sweet blood, your sweet juices that leak for me.â
âg-god! i canât.. âm so close..!â
âyeah? give it all to me.â
youâre torn between denying, fighting backâ rejecting the very idea of infatuating yourself with a vampire, but also the sickening pleasure that you feel, from him, every nerve and muscle fibre within your body listening to demands, bending to his very will and touch, choosing for you to submit fully.
your legs began to shake with uttermost desire, trembling like your parted lips as your tears slipped down your face, blood soaked on your lips and trailing down your neck, eyes rolling back â before squeezing them tight, digging your hands into the tree, whilst his fingers circles your throbbing clit erratically, albeit delicately.
âitâs okay, [y/n]. come for meâ soak my cock,â he grits, eyes watching and feasting on the sight before himâ one that he had desired for so long, âplease, be a good girl for me?â
it crashes down on you like a tidal waveâ spurting all over him too, soaking his clothes, and the remnants of yours, your body convulsing in overwhelming pleasure, attempting to move away from him, lifting your hips offâ which he lets out a small growl, rough hands finding your waist, and pulling you back onto him with one swiftâviolent movementâ pushing against your cervix brutally. your face flushes in embarrassmentâ letting out a shriek.
his movements become even more intenseâ more erratic, chasing his own pleasure now, with no regards to your overstimulated, weakened bodyâ using you as his own toy, his own flesh light, digging crescent moons into your waist, perhaps strong enough to draw bloodâ heâs become more vocal now, too, letting out growls and groans of all sorts â and the occasional whimper, claiming you completely, desire clouding his vision completely.
ân-no.. not inside, pleaseâ anywhere else,â you pleaded, looking back at him with the remnants of energy you could muster, fear filling your stomachâ but youâre helpless, and you can only watch him, a surge of panic synthesising within you, shaking your head in denial.
his dick throbs inside of you, reaching places beyond the flutter of your walls, bullying and bruising your cervix with such adamance, before spasming and shooting a hot, white load inside of you filling you up completely, both your bodies trembling.
âtake all of itâ fuck! keep every last fucking drop inside,â he grits, slamming his hips against yours a few more timesâ for good measures, savouring the aftershocks, riding out his ecstasy, lifting your body up against his, and your lips part, letting out a few small mewls.
âfuckâ youâre such a good cum dump.â
âno..â you whimper, feeling every last drop fill you up, spurting enough that droplets begin to leak down your thighs, which he watches in fascination â and as you watch in horror.
âyou werenât supposed to be here. i promised myself i wouldnât go find you,â he whispers against your neck, âbut you came to me yourself.â
âit must be fate.â he continued, almost smiling â properly for the first time, yet there was something sickening about the smile.
you shifted slightlyâ noticing the silence. not comfortableâ deliberate, as the forest remained around you, the shadows stretching further than they should in the setting mist. his arm wrapped around your body, remaining loose yet unyielding as he watched you closely, watched the way you exhaled into the cold air â leaving a cloud of breath looming, the way your eyelids slightly fell in exhaustion, or the way your body shaped perfectly against hisâ so he thought.
âtired?â he askedâ almost softly, recognising the small habits your body portrayed as a human, something not equivocated for him.
you nodded in response, âyes.â
âthatâs fine,â he hummed, âyou gave me more than you realised.â
you sat in silence for another moment beyond that â questioning his trivial tone, furrowing your eyebrows slightly at what he meant.
your stomach dropped.
you pushed yourself off the tree, with the remnants of energy you could even muster â despite your body being used without your choice, âi need to leaveââ
âno.â
the word wasnât harsh. angryâ it was final.
you froze, a deep shiver grasping your body, your skin finally starting to prickle with the cold air outside.
âthereâs no leaving anymore, you donât need to.â
âyou canât keep me,â you shot back, pushing himself offâ a wet, pop noise as his length finally left your hole, letting more of his load dribble down your thigh, making you cringe completely â looking back at him, almost in horror, as you saw the dried blood on his lips and jaw, his fangs finally bared for you.
his eyes glowed slightly in the dark nightâ against the low light, not wild or angryâ like a promiseâ devoted to desire.
âi isolated myself for two centuries to keep myself from youâ from desire, and you came to me. i waited two centuries to feel what i felt tonight, to protect the desire that haunts me like a monster,â he saidâ pausing, âohâ my sweet, naĂŻve thing. you truly believed iâd let you leave after tonight?â
âyouâre mine, forever, [y/n]. youâll feel my desire soon enoughâ youâll understand eventually, i promise.â
you stood before him, like a deer caught in headlights, completely and utterly terrified- your heart slammed against your ribcage, tremblingâ eyes wide with fear. desire had truly claimed himâ and it was coming for you tonight.
âiâll fuck you as many times as i need to make you remember. even if you donât want itâ even if you deny me.â
and with a suddenâ sharp movement, he looked at you with darkened eyesâ grabbing you. the monster of desire he had locked away for so long, denied, hadnât ever been destroyedâ
it had been waiting.
and once it had found youâ it had no intention of hiding itself again.
âto our new life togetherâforever, [y/n],â he statedâ and your vision went dark.
â ëì, ê°ìŽ YOU MAKE ME SOO THIRSTY â series masterlist ïœĄ
PAIRING vampire!sunghoon â° huntress!reader
đ SYNOPSIS.
in a dystopian society where vampires have taken over the world, cities are divided in two parts:
the bane zone, where human rebels and outcast vampires tear each other apart every night â and the high zone, where all the others vampires and humans peacefully coexist, or at least in appearance.
after losing everything that was dear to you, youâve decided to become a vampire hunter, surviving in the deadly bane zone of seoul for many years.
but one fateful day, youâre forced to infiltrate the high zone, as your found family of hunters were caught and are now held captive by seven of the velite â the vampire elite.
as you venture into the elite circle of vampires to try to save them, you unfortunately meet sunghoon, a velite with an ethereal beauty but sadistic tendencies, who chooses you for his favorite hobby: a bloody cat-and-mouse game.
ïœĄ tags: vampires enhypen , enemies to enemies with benefits , pre-apocalyptic modern era , vampiric rule , high society / elite settings , mention of war , fight scenes , revenge , dark romance , angst , unsolicited attraction , biting , sexual tension & intercourses , open ending (depends on how the fic is received by readers... if there is any)
ïœĄ warning: DARK CONTENT AHEAD 18+only (minors do not interact) , lot of profanity (y/n is mad at the whole world) , horror elements , power game , violence & torture , mental games , public humiliation , suggestive content / inexplicit nsfw (wonât go too much in details... for now) , major character death , human (blood) trafficking , lot of blood & bitings , grief themes , suicidal thoughts , forced relationships , obsession , noncon touches & kisses , blurred consent , blackmailing , toxic dynamics , sadistic tendencies (just like the writer with y/n) ... i'll probably add more !DON'T LIKE DON'T READ!
( PART 0 ) , ( PART 1 ) , ( PART 2 ) , ( PART 3 ) , ( PART 4 ) , ( PART 5 ) ? ...
DISCLAIMER this story contains dark themes (read tags and warning before reading) and toxic relationships. i do not condone any of the characters' behaviors, read at your own risk. this is a fictional work for entertainment purposes, nothing reflects on the real enhypen members!
â° ASKS, REBLOGS, LIKES & COMMENTS WILL BE APPRECIATED â°
NOTES velite is inspired by desire concept cinema and teeth lyrics. the story is sunghoon focused, with side heeseung (a girl canât have a heehoon feeling?) the seven members appear (and everyone is AWFUL AF, probably, idk yet). i already have ideas for a spinoff with another member but let me focus on this one for now. this is my first fiction so DO NOT have big expectations jebal (iâm terrorized to post for the first time). warning,, i'm not good with english (it's not my first language) so typos, incorrect sentences structures and grammatical tenses issues will be everywhere. i tend to write way too much lore. i apologize in advance for everything (yes author has no confidence in her writing and story). every feedback will be appreciated so don't hesitate to send all your thoughts đŁČ
â° IF SOMEHOW YOU WISH TO BE TAGGED, SEND AN ASK OR ASK IN COMMENTS â°
series summary: Seven souls struggle with the bitter dregs of eternal life. As they hide amongst human society, they try to discover a cure for their curse, decade after decade, century into century. In their investigations, they find more than they could imagine brewing including a strange magnetic pull towards a human woman. Will they be able to find their humanity once more or will their world crumble beneath the weight of immortality?
warnings/tags: Inspired by Enhypen's MVs lore & Enhypen's Dark Moon, Vampire AU, sort of Soulmate AU, heavy science fiction inspiration, 3rd person POV, use of YN, mature topics, angst, human experimentation, medicine (pills/shots), death, injuries, biting, medical imagery, implied abuse, canonical violence & trauma, vampire lore, blood, Ni-ki as Riki. more tags to be added probably!
word count: 28k written ; ongoing.
part 1 - blood moon. (posted 11/28/24)
part 2 - daydream. (posted 12/23/24)
part 3 - blurred. (posted 1/23/25)
part 4 - flowers. (posted 11/2/25)
part 5 - tba!
in a dystopian society where vampires have taken over the world, cities are divided in two parts:
the bane zone, where human rebels and outcast vampires tear each other apart every night â and the high zone, where all the others vampires and humans peacefully coexist, or at least in appearance.
after losing everything that was dear to you, youâve decided to become a vampire hunter, surviving in the deadly bane zone of seoul for many years.
but one fateful day, youâre forced to infiltrate the high zone, as your found family of hunters were caught and are now held captive by seven of the velite â the vampire elite.
as you venture into the elite circle of vampires to try to save them, you unfortunately meet sunghoon, a velite with an ethereal beauty but sadistic tendencies, who chooses you for his favorite hobby: a bloody cat-and-mouse game.
ïœĄ warning: a lot of profanity , prostitution and human trafficking networks , slut-shaming (including a bit from y/n) , anxiety-inducing settings , mention of thinness and lack of nutrition , sexual harassment (by an external character) , vampire things , social class disparity , y/n says she's prefer to d*e than ... , y/n also mentions she wants to torture and kill vampires (lol) , mention of drug and alcohol , a bit of action. !MDNI, CONTENT AIMED TO INFORMED AUDIENCE!
ïœĄ word count: 8672K đ
ïœĄ playlist : 17, cursal â° aespa, hold on tight â° wednesday, paint it black (orchestral)
NOTES (1) chapter 2 is here, faster than i expected it! ig the few adorable reactions i got motivated me hihi. A LOT happens here and as promised, both jake and heeseung appear (well for jake, it's more like he's mentioned), and i might have lied about a certain person not appearing before the next part *evil laugh* read the warning (for real please) and enjoy the reading.
đ MASTERLIST / PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART.
The surroundings are calm and soothing. A soul in a hypnagogic state is lulled by the velvety sound of flowing water. Eyes closed, gradually, the train of thought resumes its course; you can't remember the last time sleeping felt so numbing.
Opening your heavy eyelids is an ordeal in itself. But as soon as you do, your body rushes to cough, spitting out water from your now inflamed lungs.
You wake up with a start, your heart pounding in your chest with fear. You look around and immediately notice it's daylight. Relieved, you breathe deeply. Your body is half underwater, your clothes and hair soaked. A piece of your t-shirt is caught on barbed wire, which probably saved you from drowning.
From the abandoned appearance of the leftover structures, you realize you're still in the Bane Zone, but you've never ventured this far. For five years you were unaware that a river flowed along the edge of the area. You feel really stupid because it could have made showering so much easier for your huntersâ group.
But at the thought of your companions, your breath catches, recalling events. A torrent of scenes violently flashes through your mind: the way you ran and hid all night. Your dagger plunging savagely into the bane vampire's heart. Jay's terrifying grin and his velvety voice vibrating against your skin. His sinuous tongue reveling in your blood. His sharp fangs nearly piercing your flesh. And ultimately, your precious collar constricting around your throat before snapping between his fingers, causing you to plunge into the river.
Unconsciously, your hand wraps around your neck. The immediate pain upon contact makes you wince. To your misfortune, you vividly remember the sensation of Jay's cold, barbarous fingers tightening there. It sends shivers of terror down your spine.
And you hate the feeling of emptiness. The emptiness of the missing necklace, gifted by your mother, which accompanied you through all those nightmarish years, and the emptiness in your heart.
You're alone. Miserably alone. They're all gone. The hunters, your chosen family, have all been taken away from you. You're more than angry; you're furious. You finally allow the tears to well up and stream down your colorless cheeks. All those years of resistance, gone to dust in a single night.
You wonder why the heavens have spared you once again. The river water wasn't particularly deep; the chances of dying from the fall were greater than those of surviving it.
Yet here you are, alive, but at what cost? You try to move, but your body aches so much. Falling from that height has obviously left you badly injured, not to mention your left arm, which seems to be fractured.
But you bear your suffering and grit your teeth.
What's the point of going back to your hideout now that the vampires know it? How are you supposed to find a new one on your own? You chuckle silently at your misery. As if your existence wasn't horrible enough.
To tell the truth, you have nothing to retrieve. Nothing but a few old, tattered clothes. Years of survival have made you give up all your belongings. The weapons you had with you are either left behind on the battlefield or lost in the water current. The only and last thing you truly owned was your silver necklace, but now? It's in the hands of some Velite bastard.
So without thinking twice, you follow your instinct and decide to untie your t-shirt from the barbed wire. You allow your body to sink, swimming underneath as best you can despite your injuries. You cross to the other side for the first time and let yourself be swept along the flow of the tranquil river.
After a while, you see the end of the waterway, which seems to end in a sewer. So you don't wait and push your body against the shore. You crawl out of the water, groaning in pain. Luckily, your muscles are trained and your bones accustomed to pain; otherwise, you wouldn't be able to accomplish anything.
Noticing no change in the vicinity, you then ask yourself where you could be: still in the Bane Zone or at the far end of the High Zone? You don't see any surveillance posts or cameras nearby, yet you definitely crossed the barrier. But what if... this place was a crossing for the rebels? An unmonitored network, forgotten and unguarded?
At the thought, you slowly get up and start walking, disregarding the throbbing pain throughout your body and also your growling stomach.
You're not sure where you're going, or even what you're trying to do. Rescue your friends, retrieve your necklace, get revenge? All this with your body in this pitiful state, and your power pills also in Jay's possession? It's absolutely laughable.
Yet you can't think of anything else, because what else is there? So you keep moving forward into the unknown, with no particular destination in mind.
After what seems like thirty minutes, small gray houses appear in your field of vision. Far from luxurious and even quite shoddy, but nothing damaged, unlike everything in the Bane Zone. Something that confirms you're definitely in the High Zone. And somehow, you're a bit perplexed; you were expecting things to be more... fancy?
However, you notice cameras and immediately hide behind a wall section. But after a few seconds of watching them, you also realize they're⊠turned off? No red light, no movement, too strange.
The neighborhood is also unusually quiet; at this time of day, humans should be bustling about, coming and going, yet⊠these houses seem uninhabited. Even stranger.
Where the hell are you?
You don't know if it's a dream opportunity or a bloody trap, but anyway. You stop thinking further and head discreetly for the nearest house. Standing in front of the window, you check to see if you have anything left that you could use to open it. And that's when you feel it, hidden in your boot: a long, sharp silver hairpin.
You quickly grab it and try to force the window open. After struggling for a while, you finally hear a click: Open.
Hearing no alarm, you sneak inside as best you can, stifling your grimaces of pain; under normal circumstances, it would be easy, as you are used to breaking into places in the Bane Zone.
You're a little taken aback by the interior. The decor is very cold, nothing cozy; it looks more like the inside of a prison cell than a house. But it's been so long since you've been in a house in a normal state that it feels almost strange; you're even a little disconcerted.
Without waiting, driven by your hunger, you go straight to the kitchen and open the fridge, cupboards, or anywhere to find something to eat. You're quick to notice that there isn't much, just bottles of water and what looks like... prune juice? Some canned foods too, but they'll do. Like, really. You stopped being a picky eater when your life became hell to survive.
Now that you think about it, you have no idea how long you were unconscious in the water: it could have been one night, two, or even three. But judging by your state, you think it should be at least two. After that, the bane vampires would surely have tracked you down.
You open two cans, peas and white beans, which you devour quickly with a fork found in a drawer. You almost moan at the sensation of your warm stomach, full for once. After emptying them, you plan to throw the wrecks outside so as not to leave any evidence of your presence in this house.
Even if you don't think anyone will come back here, judging by the state of the food stock or simply the obvious lack of life within these gray wallsâyou can never be too prudent; You've learned your lesson well now, and the thought makes you snort bitterly. So you decide to hurry upstairs, stumbling on almost every step, to find the bathroom.
Once inside, you lock yourself in and quickly look around: the bathroom is small, but it has everything you need, including a working shower. You clumsily undress, your broken arm causing another wave of pain throughout your limbs, and rush naked between the glass walls of the shower.
And as soon as you turn on the tap, you're stunned: water at high pressure, which, a few seconds later, heats up? How long has it been since you've experienced such comfort? As soon as the warm water runs over your hair and then your skin, you catch other drops on your faceâyour tears. It feels so good that you actually cry with sheer delight.
You close your eyes and breathe calmly, immersing yourself in this rare and distant state of well-being. In this simple moment, you feel human again.
After showering, you observe your waxy complexion in the mirror, marring your features: pretty in a terrible way, giving your beauty a rugged quality.
Under the sink, to your relief, you find a medical kit to treat yourself. You had forgotten the smell of disinfectant. You do your best to treat your wounds and your injured arm, concluding with a good number of band-aids and a bandage.
But when it's time to treat the bruise around your neck, you get tense; every time the balm meets your skin at your fingertips, Jay's face pops into your mind, and you almost swear.
You set off to explore the equally modest bedroom. You took the liberty of stealing clothes to replace your own⊠which no longer look like anything, and to your great surprise, the wardrobe turned out to be women's? Not to be prejudiced, but it didn't look like a woman's house at all. Everything was so austere, with no personal touches.
Once again, the premises resembled more a place for a jailbird than a real place to live. But whatever, the clothes were new and of decent quality, so you picked up a T-shirt, sweatshirt, pantsâall black, the color to blend into the darkness.
After you're done, you feel like crap once again. No matter how much you managed to loosen up in the hot water, concern always comes back in a flash. This place, this neighborhoodâeverything is shady; it's difficult to feel at ease.
You glance at the bed behind you; a night's sleep in a proper bed, free of dust and dirt, would do you a world of good, but nope, you know you can't stay here, much to your regret. It's too dangerous. Nevertheless, you won't lie: after not tasting comfort for so long, it's already hard to leave behind the little you've touched again.
You then close the door with a longing and exhausted expression and go back downstairs. On the way, you gather up the traces of yourself in your hands and flee the house through the window, just as you did on the way in.
Abandoning your humanity once again to become a ghost of the streets, the vampire huntress is out of the game for the time being.
You've been venturing for a long timeâtoo long. You can feel the sores beneath your feet forming. And to your dismay, the sun just reached the end of its descent.
Your heart begins to race all over againâa cycle of pain and fear that you can never get used to. You know that Banes can't enter the High Zone, but nothing helps; you're on your guard like every other time: if you managed to infiltrate so effortlessly, a bane vampire must succeed from time to time.
At that moment, you notice in the distance, and even slightly hear, city lights, quite reddish in this area, and the easily recognizable noise of traffic.
Instinctively, you retrieve the silver hairpin from your boot to form a bun with it so that it will be easier to retrieve if necessary; itâs unfortunately your only remaining weapon of protection.
As you cautiously approach the red neon lights, you quickly notice the grime in the alleys and the smell of urine in the air. No fucking way this is the High Zone? You also realize that there are no CCTV cameras in this place.
You find it hard to believe that such a poor area could belong here. Then you pause in your tracks to hide behind a heavy iron door, from which raucous music blares out.
As you discreetly scan the scene, you see a woman exit the premises, stumbling in her heels, as the heavy door slams shut behind her. Her make-up is smudged, her hair is a tangled mess, and her slinky dress has slipped off her shoulders, revealing the shape of her chest. At first glance, you think she's drunk or maybe drugged, but then, looking more closely, you notice the blood tears dripping from several... bites? all over her body.
You gasp silently, finding it harder to cope with the situation than to understand it. Because your brain is too fast, already processing everything.
Then, you see her collapse to the ground, and your face creases with distress. You know you should stay hidden in your corner, but you can't help yourself. After several minutes with no one coming out of the place, you decide to go to her, your humanity still tugging at you in spite of everything.
The ghost isnât really ghosting anything, you point out to yourself, as you kneel beside the unconscious young woman. Her entire skin is covered with bite marks, from the most recent ones gushing to the older ones pink or white.
You feel so terrible and decide to check her pulse, your eyebrows furrowed with worry: weak but alive. You wish you could do something for her, like actually help and rescue her, but you can't even do anything for yourself right now.
You hear the door creaking open and hurry to hide back. A second woman comes out of the place, dressed in the same manner, and crouches down where you were.
You don't know why, but her face is somehow familiar to you. You wander through the maze of your mind, and then when you realize, surprise strikes you, and her name comes out of your mouth, louder than you wanted, unable to hold it back.
â[Friend Name].â The name of your former best friend is uttered in an audible whisper, with as much shock as sorrow. Immediately, the young woman flinches and turns her attention towards the sound of the voice. When she notices and recognizes your features in the shadows of your hideout, her face twists in the same emotions as yours.
âY/N, is it really you?â She calls your name too in a shaky voice, and tears well up in both your eyes as you rush out of your hiding place, falling to your knees uncontrollably to take her in your arms. She returns the hug, and you feel her sobbing into your shoulder.
âI canât believe youâre alive.â You say in total disbelief in her ear, stroking the back of her head. Your closest friend is alive. Alive but... Without meaning to, your eyes cascade over her exposed skin, and you notice them as well: bite marks.
You stop moving, and she senses it, feeling her flinch. She hesitantly pulls away from your arms and doesn't dare look you in the eye anymore, assumably ashamed. You want to tell her, "Don't be," but the words get stuck in your mouth; you don't know the whole story, but you can already tell that she's a victim.
She then mutters, âLet's not stay here; it's not safe,â and turns to her unconscious colleague. A little embarrassed, she asks, âDo you think you could help?â Despite your aching body, you obviously agree, helping to carry the unconscious girl on your shoulder and following your friend to another door, in an adjacent alleyway.
The place is dark, lit only by a faint light from green neon lights. Stifling smoke fills the air, and judging by the smell, it's cigarettes mixed with other, much stronger substances... You hold your breath for a moment, not wanting any poison to permeate your airways, until you reach what appears to be a bedroom. The few beds are unmade, with clothes and makeup scattered everywhere. It reeks of cheap perfume, but it's already better than toxic substances.
Both of you out of breath, you finally release the unconscious woman onto one of the beds, and your friend closes the door behind you, locking it. Noticing how you don't move and your worried face, your old friend indicates, âDon't worry; after resting and drinking prune juice, she'll be fine.â
When she mentions prune juice, you immediately remember the bricks you found in the fridge earlier. And in a way, you hate how your brain is so fast at calculating bits of info: that house earlier was indeed like a jail, a jail for a woman who is (or was) in the clutches of a vampire.
Assessing where your friend lives compared to the house you previously infiltrated, you assume that they don't belong to the same categories, though: your friend's social status is likely very low in this vile, vampiric society.
All this disgusts you, but you nod to her words, as if what she just said is normal. However, your concern doesn't entirely go away and ends up shifting onto your friend. You're concerned about her current life, but you also don't want to pressure her into talking about it.
At a glance, and from the dark circles under her eyes, you know she is exhausted as she sits on the edge of the bed with a heavy sigh. Then, she gently invites you to join her with a pat. After an awkward moment of silence, she breaks it and starts talking softly, avoiding your stare once more. âI can't believe you're alive and safe too. Where have you been all this time?â
Under her curious look, you explain clearly that after being separated from your loved ones, including her, you hid for a long time in what is now the Bane Zone. You tell her with a nervous laugh that you still don't know how you managed to stay alive, but that on your journey to survival you ended up meeting... other people like you, not mentioning the word rebels or worse, hunters, although she must already suspect it. You loathe yourself for doubting your old friend, but it's just too difficult to trust anyone these days.
After you're done talking, she clears her throat, knowing that it's her turn. You wish to tell her that she doesn't have to say anything if she isn't comfortable, but a selfish part of you also wants to confirm your suspicions, so you keep quiet and let her speak. âWhen everything had fallen apart, I was so stupid. So very stupid. I was also scared and a coward.â She lets out a sour chuckle as she continues, âI should have followed the bravest ones into the Bane Zone, but instead I decided to find someone. Or, to reach him, at least.â
She hesitates for a moment, as if what she is about to say weighs heavily on her chest. âDo you remember that young vampire on TV that I used to like and mention to you often back then?â You know right away who she's talking about; his handsome face and your friend's crazy words had both made an impression on you. âAfter I too lost my family, I was desperate and clung to his skewed image. In my eyes, at that moment, he was so radiant, I wanted to believe him, and it was the only thing that helped me carry on.â
You notice them, tears running down her cheeks covered in blush, without her even realizing. âI indeed found Jake here, in this shady place, because that's where I was told he was rumored to be hanging out. I was naive; I thought it was just a normal nightclub. And before I even had time to realize anything, I was manipulated into staying; I was coerced into joining this ring.â Her face contorts with pain and regret. âI'm sure you can already guess that the women and boys here are⊠hookers. Hookers for vampires, specifically. They love to call us blood-whores. We don't just give our bodies but also our blood. Many of us die every night, drained, but that's just a detail for them.â
Then, you see a weird, faint smile on her lips, twisted with an array of emotions you wouldn't be able to describe properly... Like hope and love being ripped away. âAnd I'm his, Jake's blood-whore. Among many other women, of course. And believe me, I have a dog leash around my neck. No one is allowed to touch me except him, and everyone knows it. According to the vampires who have us under their control, I should be honored that he even deigns to look in my direction since he's a Velite. Can you believe this fucking nonsense?â She then begins to sneer deliriously, and you understand her reaction. If you were in her place, you wouldn't be here anymore. LOL. Like, no fucking way you become some vampire's bitch; you might as well stab yourself with your silver hairpin.
âAnyway, let's stop talking about Jake and also our pathetic lives.â She calms down and asks you, a little confused, âIf you managed to escape and survive in the Bane Zone, why did you come here?â After hearing how she feels about the Velites, you loosen up a little and decide to be more honest with her.
âTwo nights ago, a Velite unexpectedly came to our hideout. My comrades were taken away by him and his henchmen. So now I'm alone, and I won't be able to survive very long in the Bane Zone without anyone.â You swallow hard since what comes next is still painful to recount. âI can still hear their screams in my head. I simply can't leave them in the hands of this monster. I also need to get back the necklace my mother gave me. It's the last thing that connects me to her and my family. And I'm sure that bastard is keeping it safe,â your jaw clenching at the last sentence.
You see your friend deep in thought. âThe Velite you mentioned, do you know his name?â You snicker at her question; you wish you didn't know his name, but he made sure you knew it, and it'd be engraved in your memory, wouldn't it?
âJay, it's Jay.â Uttering his name is pure torture.
âOh,â she blurts out, taken aback. âIâve heard Jake say his name several times,â she recalls. âTheyâre probably friends.â
You're not sure you understand where her thoughts are leading until she almost exclaims with joy before remembering where she is and leaning closer to you to whisper. âYour goal is to infiltrate the Velites, right?â Until now, you hadn't really thought about it, but you nod in agreement because, indeed, it's the only place where you can do what you want. âIn three days, there will be a blood moon. And the vampires of the High Zone love to celebrate the milestone with a special... party.â You listen to her attentively: âTo spice up their evening, they select a few people from our ring to go there, since Jake is... a VIP client,â something that makes you both shudder with disgust. But right after that, you pause, realizing what she's implying.
âWait, wait, you want me to pretend to be a... blood-whore?â Words are hard to get out of your mouth and leave a bitter taste. Your old friend nods affirmatively, and her face wrinkles into a sorry expression. âRight now, I don't see any other way for you to get into their district. Security is really tight, and you'd get caught immediately.â
Then she adds, âI heard that this time the party is a masquerade ball, like in the old days for those devils,â and you realize that the opportunity is indeed perfect; Jay won't be able to recognize your face or track your scent among so many people.
The idea of being surrounded by so many bloodsuckers is already driving you crazy, though. Can you really do it? What's more, in this... role. No offense to your friend.
But just as you're in the middle of the intense discussion, you're interrupted by the sound of a loud knock on the door. âHey [Name]-bitch, I know you're there. Get your ass over here; Jake just arrived.â
The brutality of the language startles you both, and you can see from your friend's face and the way her fingers grip the sheets that she's already panicking.
She gets up from the bed, and this time she looks at you in the eyes, crying out for help, and God, you want to get her out of there so bad. You want to promise your old friend that once you've completed your mission, you'll come back for her. But you know that the odds of it being an empty promise are high, and she doesn't deserve to live with false hope.
As she nervously adjusts her dress as low as possible on her thighs, she quietly says to you, âI-Iâll be back later. My... absence will give you time to think about my suggestion.â She leans in close to your ear, whispering as softly as possible. âIf you decide to do it, know that you can hide here. I'll help you infiltrate the ring just before the selection process.â
You watch her reluctantly back away. She delicately takes your hand and squeezes it, more to give herself courage than to you. Then, after one last squeeze, she flees the room without looking back, as if if she were to look at you one last time, she wouldn't be able to go to Jake.
And without noticing, three days have passed. Too quickly for your liking. You didn't have to say your answer out loud to your former best friend; the fact that you're still here said it all.
It's with a throbbing heart of unease and anxiety that you watch your friend primp you. In a few hours, the selection process will take place, followed by the masquerade ball itself.
It's been so long since you've worn makeup or had your hair styled other than in a loose ponytail with a worn hair tie. The smell of perfume makes you sick, but you put up with it. When she finishes your makeup, you can hardly recognize yourself in the dirty mirror; your hair has been neatly styled and arranged into an elegant bun, leaving two strands to fall delicately in front. Your eyes are like those of a fox, enhanced with smoky black eyeshadow and long eyeliner. Your skin is smooth, with a much healthier appearance. A few glitter particles linger on your thin features, and finally, your lips are accentuated by a light shiny gloss; this look is too much for you, but you know it's quite nothing for girls... around here.
âPerfect,â says your friend, admiring her work. Then she turns to the hot dresses and Venetian masks lying on the bed. âIt's time.â She knows you're deliberately avoiding looking at your dress; all these years, you've been covering every morsel of skin with clothes for fear that a vampire might be tempted. So the idea of being so... exposed, under their hungry eyes, actually terrifies you. Unconsciously, your black clothes have always hidden everything about you, like armor.
But you know that for the plan to work, you have no choice. You take a deep, deep, deep breath and get up from the stool to head toward the bed. You take one last look at the nightmarish outfit and frown with displeasure as you begin to undress to put it on.
Your left arm isn't healed yet; it will definitely take more than a week, especially without the pills, so your friend helps you with the zipper. And it's demeaning that she has to assist you with something so simple. You cross your fingers that you won't have to fight before you're fully recovered. But at least, for tonight, the rest of your body hurts less, which is enough to run, you tell yourself bitterly.
To your relief, she picked a black dress, probably knowing that you wouldn't have been able to handle anything else. But in any case, as soon as she totally zips it, you can't breathe. It's so low-cut and tight-fitting. You don't dare look at yourself in the full-length mirror; although clearly lacking nourishment, years of hunting have shaped your body, refined your waist, and perfectly toned your legs⊠and your butt. Your body is likely attractive, and you want to pull the trigger straight to your head.
As you absentmindedly gaze at your silver Venetian mask, you hear your friend almost shriek behind you. You turn around in confusion and watch her compare the two of you. More precisely, she compares the condition of your skin: yours is tougher, covered with scratches and various cuts, while hers is softer but riddled with bite marks. Without waiting, she grabs your arm and drags you back to the stool. âThat won't do, that won't do,â she murmurs to herself as she starts to draw bite marks on your skin with makeup, seemingly accustomed to doing this.
Your silver Venetian mask half-covers your face, and before leaving, you slipped your long, deadly hairpin into your bun, adding a little je ne sais quoi to your overall look even though it's meant to defend yourself... or kill some ageless beasts. Holding the arm of your former best friend, you leave the bedroom apprehensively and head together for the club. Your feet hurt; it's been too long since you last wore high heels, accustomed as you are to your old boots, which you already miss.
It was arranged this evening that you would take the spot of the unconscious colleague, who fortunately woke up but isnât in a condition to participate. By the by, you're wearing her very own perfume, hoping that it will be sufficient and that the vampires won't notice the difference in the scent of your blood. But the fact that there were many, many people in this hellish place should help. Even so, you pray to the heavens.
After a few minutes, you finally arrive at the club, and a line of well-dressed people are already waiting. The fact that people are willing to go there is crazy to you; you know that many humans in the High Zone are traitors who have chosen an easy life here, but you didn't know that some enjoy being blood-whores for vampires.
Your best friend confided in you that if it weren't to make your charade more convincing, she would never have participated in such events. And your heart sank when she said that, to say she's ready to be chosen and possibly devoured by Jake again tonight just to help you. You really don't want to leave her now that you've finally found her.
Your sentimental train of thought comes to an end when a group of sickly-looking men enter the room. You can tell from the way they stand and observe each human being as if they were pieces of meat that they are the talked-about vampires who run the ring and will therefore select those who will go to the masked ball.
You swallow hard. You're not used to facing vampires like this... You've always fought against Banes, who are just monsters with no conscience. And in a way, they're much simpler to deal with.
It doesn't take long before they start picking out the chosen ones; you don't know what the criteria are, and suddenly, you're afraid you won't be selected. What if your plan goes down the drain?
They stop in front of each person, one after the other. They stare at their bodies like damn perverts, then sniff their perfumes. What the fuck? How horrible. You feel your best friend discreetly touch your fingertips as if to give you strength. Itâll be okay.
You mentally force yourself to calm down and pretend you're used to this shit, slackening your heartbeat before they arrive in front of you; years of experience hiding from monsters at night seems to pay off.
When the pale freaks come up to you, your eyes are indifferent and hussyish, and you almost want to look at them with contempt, but you hold back. You know you should stare at them with a slutty look instead, but it's the most you can do.
And to your surprise, one of them seems delighted. âEve,â he begins, and you know that's your friend's roommate's name. âYou seem a little different tonight, but I don't mind,â he says as he moves closer to breathe in your scentâfucking too close. âNew perfume?â You need all the strength possible not to back away. But you don't move an inch, even though you're itching to take your hairpin and stab him in the stomach. At his question, you nod obediently, adding a little cheeky smile, not wanting to betray yourself with the sound of your voice.
He snickers at your reaction, making you want to puke, but he steps back and points at you with his finger. As he moves on to the next personâyour best friendâyou feel another vampire grab your arm roughly and drag you away.
You take one last look at the person who used to be the closest to you, and when you see the relief on her face, you know she hasn't been chosen. She gives you a small, encouraging smile, mixed with sadness, both of you realizing that this may be the last time you see each other. For good.
And you understand that it means you're alone. Again. You're going to have to face a hall full of vampires who are just waiting to drink as much expensive liqueur as fresh blood.
Fuck.
You've been riding for around forty minutes, and the further you drive from your former best friend, the more anxious you become. You realize that going back to her will be as difficult as escaping from the Velites district.
Youâre travelling in a humble bus; fifteen people have been selected. Few look edgy like you, while most look eagerâmad people. The curtains are drawn across the windows, and you understand that youâre not allowed to open them: the Velitesâ address must stay a secret apparently, which makes you chuckle so wryly. These vampires are so pompous, and for what?
But your chucking stops as soon as the bus pulls up: you've arrived at the damn place, and your breath catches in your throat. Fuck, letâs stay calm and not faint now.
You try to regain your composure as you get off the bus, following the other humans. But as soon as you step outside, you slow down, gasping, unable to believe your eyes: modernity, modernity as you knew it before, which you haven't seen for five long years. And not just any: under the pitch-black sky, full of starsâand wow, it's been a long timeâyouâre surrounded by magnificent glass skyscrapers, and the cars driving on the perfect tarmac are all luxury sports models. As your group begins to move forward, you see, not far from the green, well-maintained parks, a splendid fountain spouting water.
The difference between the district where your friend lives and here is already striking, but when you think about where you live, the Bane Zone, it's simply crazy. You're no longer used to such a vision.
Then, when you arrive at the entrance to one of the buildings, a breathtaking white house with several floors, including an italic V made entirely of gold hanging above it, Velite. You immediately stop daydreaming: youâre in their place, itâs real.
Your fists clench nervously, and you notice that your hands are sweating. You swear that one day you'll die of a heart attack with all this non-stop stress that's eating you away every minute of every day.
Your group is queuing up, and one by one you see that someone is putting a crimson red wristband around your wrist, and you don't like it. You have a bad feeling that turns out to be true a bit too quickly.
After a few moments, you arrive in front of beautiful, large white doors that open for your group: the masquerade ball has begun.
You walk in, and lots of eyes are on you. Too many. Predatory eyes. You want so badly to race back out and never come back, but you can't.
In the ball hall, you rapidly notice white wristbands, then a blue wristband among the white ones. The distinction quickly becomes clear in your mind: humans have red wristbands, normal vampires have white wristbands, and those who are part of the elite have blue wristbands; at least you know who to avoid at all costs.
The other detail you notice is that your outfit is inappropriate for the event, because vampire women all wear loose-fitting, traditional dresses, which makes you feel more flustered than ever; the humans here really are a freak show.
And last but not least; the glass cups of blood that all vampires drink, as if it were a refined alcoholic beverage. Ew.
Your first instinct is to withdraw from the group and blend into the crowd, hiding your wrist behind your back as much as possible. You refuse to be mixed up with this group of humans any longer, like, sorry. Unlike them, you have no desire to get bitten and f*cked tonight, for God's sake.
You grab a glass of champagne from the tray of a waiter walking carefully past, and you notice from the redness on his cheeks that he is human and not wearing a bracelet. This instantly gives you ideas, but you still need to find a moment during the evening to slip away. For now, it's still too early; the party has only just started and you can feel that youâre being watched by the vampires who brought you here. You might be able to excuse yourself later to go to the bathroom or something like that.
With your sparkling glass cup in hand, you go to a corner of the room where there is no one and hope it stays that way. Like leave me fucking alone.
But there's no point. You have to move repeatedly every time you see yet another vampire heading towards you. You can tell that it's going to be trickier than you thought.
You end up heading to the buffet and knocking back glass after glass of champagne. You're doing the one thing you really shouldn't be doing: getting wasted, but damn it, you need it so badly.
Just when you manage to forget the horror movie all around you for a few minutes, you feel a chill on your skin. And before you even sense a presence behind you, a soft, masculine, almost honeyed voice whispers seductively in your ear: "Dulcinea, do you need real bites? Because theyâre starting to fade away."
You almost do a somersault and roll back to the side, confronting the stranger. Fucking hell. You didn't manage to sense his presence, like, at all. This is the first time this has happened to you, especially after becoming an active huntress. A quick glance at his wrist reveals a bracelet... blue.
And you know you're in deep shit. A Velite noticed you have fake marks, likely because you're so stressed and your skin is now covered in a thin layer of sweat. Shit. You're completely panicked, not knowing what to do, but he smiles at you. Amused, but not twisted, and strangely, unlike Jay, he doesn't have a threatening aura at all. Itâs actually quite the opposite... almost calming to the point of being enticing. Those damn vampires.
When his footsteps bring him closer to your silhouette, you can't move, almost mesmerized. Heâs tall but as light as a ghost, seeming harmless even though he is not. Your bodies are only a few inches apart; his expensive woody perfume pervades your senses. The vampire wears a half-mask like yours, except for being golden, revealing a rounder lower face and a thin heart-shaped mouth. What strikes you most are his eyes, round like a doe's. But you can already guess that those doe eyes can easily morph into a different look, more⊠feral. You swallow discreetly, feeling the lure like a sweet melody.
Close to your face, he sings softly, âMay I have a name?â And you're completely dazed, your lips parted. The effect he has on you is overwhelming, and you try to pull yourself together, but he notices too easily, letting a smirk appear. However, instead of being terrifying, this expression is enchanting. âWhere are my manners?â unleashing a crystalline laugh. âI'll introduce myself first. My name is Heeseung.â
Youâre about to respond or step back from him (you donât even know), but the both of you are taken aback when the ambient music in the room disappears, giving way to the sound of instruments. The strings rise, accompanied by an organ piano, and as if it was told before, the guests move away from the center of the room, creating a dance floor, allowing you now to notice the sparkling diamond chandelier above, dominating everything.
While your head is in the air, focused on the ceiling, you feel the vampire in front of you take a step back. His movement draws your attention, and you refocus on him. At that very moment, he holds out his hand in front of you and asks politely, âMay I?â
As your eyes once again plunge deeply into his, you tell yourself that this Heeseung is unsettling. His gentleness and politeness, which are obviously just bait, still manage to get to you. It's as if he can sense your tension (and he definitely can), coming to you at the chosen moment to soothe your soulâsomething questionable, but it's as if your warning signs are failing you. And you wonder for one second if that's what happened between your former best friend and Jake.
You look at his long, delicate fingers and want to slap yourself for wanting to put your hand right there. Especially when you see him waiting patiently, perfect in front of you.
Without realizing it, you slip your hand into his, alcohol disinhibiting you. And just like that, the wolf in sheep's clothing succeeded in getting its prey.
Although his skin feels cold against yours, the contact isnât unpleasant, and youâre unable to apprehend what youâre thinking right now. Yet you let him lead you to the center of the room, where other couples are already standing, his eyes never leaving yours even as he turns you towards him again.
You panic immediately because the last time you danced must have been at the school prom. You haven't done it since then (and for obvious reasons). Although you know how to use your arms and legs to run away and kill a vampire, you don't know if that's enough to dance a damn masquerade with one. And why are you even doing this?
He clearly senses your emotions as he slides gently, but enough for you to hear, âRelax and let me guide youâ punctuating his words by gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.
And the craziest thing about all of this is that your body betrays you and actually listens to him.
The music starts playing, adding to your nervousness, which makes him smile lovingly, layered with a mocking grin. You're almost certain you're going to waltz. No way.
With expertise, as if he had done this a thousand times before (and he certainly had), he steps back, letting go of your fingers, and bows politely first. Seeing everyone else doing the same, you imitate him awkwardly. He then extends his hand toward you once again, and this time you don't shy away, entrusting yourself to him, not wanting to stand out more from the crowd.
You're relieved that he's doing all this with your right arm; otherwise, he would've noticed your injury straight away, and he doesn't need to know about that too, right?
Your fingers bound together, the other hand on your back, you begin to dance; one step forward, one step back to the rhythm of the instruments. You repeat the movement three times, feeling your breath catch every time your bodies come closer, his thin smile unnerving you.
Then you feel a slight pull from his arm to draw you closer, and you can already anticipate the movement that is coming. He helps you spin, and as you see the women's dresses around you flying up in the air, you feel instead the champagne you drank going to your head, making you dizzy.
And that's when everything becomes confusing; after the spin, the vampire brings your bodies closer together, and you feel his hand naturally resting on your back; you refrain from displaying an unpleasant response, but from the pleased look in his eyes, you can tell that he knows exactly how you feel. Sweet, but a bastard vampire in all cases.
He motions for you to place your hand on his shoulder, and you hesitate for a second; your damn injured arm. But you know you have no choice, so you lift it up, the pain crucifying you on the spot, making you quiver. You thank the alcohol for slightly numbing it, though; you wouldn't be able to do any of that right now. Heeseung notices your trembling. You attempt to read his eyes, and you can guess he might think it's related to the new physical proximity and not an injury. So never mind, let him misunderstand.
As for your hands clasped together, they begin to reach out to the side. From there, the real waltz begins, and you feel yourself turning pale; âone, two, three,â you hear him whisper calmly, as you try to keep the pace without stepping on his feet or tripping over your own. So focused on his attentive words, his warm eyes, and the feeling of your heels already hurting, you only notice afterwards that you're constantly spinning together, moving among the other couples.
After minutes of repeating the routine, just when you were getting more comfortable, the vampire spins you around again, but this time you feel him let go of you.
Your face breaks with terror as you see Heeseung and his enticing smile slipping away from your grasp. In the momentum of the spin, you can't stop drifting away, then you feel a pair of arms catch you, and you gasp.
That's when you realize that Heeseung, despite his vampire-like coldness, is a little warmer than normal. The commanding hand that you feel sliding into the curve of your back, then intertwining with your fingers, is, however... glacial. Cold like ice. Vampire.
You've changed partners; everyone has, but you have the feeling that the new partner you got is far from being randomly chosen.
You feel your skin shiver, the touch as electrifying as terrifying. The man's aura is overpowering. Similar to Jay in some ways, but less rugged. More... calculated, disturbingly calm and still immensely crushing. And you know that the sudden reference to another Velite is no coincidence; your body's reactions already tell you that.
A fleeting glance at the hand in yours makes you see the bracelet around his wrist.
Blue.
Of course.
This damn Bambi vampire.
You've been collecting them, Velites, these past few days.
Fucking hell.
So close to you, too close. From the pain in your lungs, you've probably been holding your breath since the moment he touched you.
You don't even dare to look at his face, and it's certainly the first time you've ever felt so... small. The feeling is so terribly demeaning that you want to grab your silver hairpin to restore your pride. You focus on his Adam's apple, unable to let your gaze wander anywhere else, basking yourself in his frosty floral cologne.
You let him lead you in the waltz, hoping you either change partners again or that the music comes to an end altogether. And, something tells you that even if you didn't feel like dancing anymore, he wouldn't care, unlike Heeseung.
But in a dubious manner, you love playing with fire; like the huntress inside you can never be reined in after all.
You notice that your hand had instinctively clung to his shoulder. Beneath your fingers lie, in addition, firm muscles, making you clock his much more square build. You have a really foolish thought at that moment, wondering if his muscular frame makes him stronger than the other Velites.
So, you carefully lift your hand from his shoulder, trying to imperceptibly withdraw your body from his grip.
And you get immediate answers to your deadly queries.
His fingers, then, dig deeper into your skin. So deep that you feel his fingernails through your clothes, making you frown in surprise and eliciting a groan of pain that you keep carefully between your mouth; a bit deeper and youâd bleed.
Immediately, your hand goes back on his shoulder in obedience, and you continue to waltz with him, the place where he's holding you aching so badly.
You feel a brief, smooth movement: the Velite's face is now next to your ear. A very faint, chilly breath escapes from his lips and spreads to the back of your neck. Then a low, deep, husky voice rises threateningly, sending shivers down your spine.
âThe dance isn't over until I say so.â
Taking your courage in both hands, you finally lift your eyes to him, meeting his icy, ominous gaze through his silver mask; same color.
Run silently, across your lips, the following line:
Dancing with the devil. And the most exquisite of all.
NOTES (2) SUNGHOON IS HERE I REPEAT SUNGHOON IS HERE FHBFHFB i don't think i could be more obvious with the whole icy thing, and yeah you get a glimpse of his nasty personality already :p also my other favorite is here... HEESEUNG, i might have worked on heeseeung personality more than any other, like i really love the contrast between him and sunghoon in this story, y/n is weak af for him FHBFHF she's like "im just tipsy" yeah sure girl!!!! also beloved JAKE was only mentioned but yeah i highly teased the sidestory with him and y/n's bestie (i didn't give her a name on purpose). i have a lot stored for the next part so fasten your belt !!! (for the jay lovers, yes he should be in the next part hehe), anyway i stop yapping, thank you a lot for reading my crap ⥠every feedback will be appreciated so don't hesitate to send all your thoughts!
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genre: greek mythology au, fantasy au, demigods au, smau/fake texts, college au, drama, fluff, romance, angst, humor
warnings: stated in each chapter
‷ ăsynopsis: when yn wakes up at the hidden academy of olympus with no memory of who she is, many believe her to be the daughter of aphrodite due to her outstanding beauty that has more than just the other students vying for her attention, but when it's revealed who her true godly parent is her relationship with poseidon's son, jake, gets complicated.
status: coming january 20th 2026
taglist: O P E N - leave a comment or send an ask to be added - pls check your perms before requesting to be added
minors blank and ageless blogs will be IGNORED (0/100)
schedule: tuesday, thursday, saturday 5pm pst
meet the demigods â± Û« Ś â§
ââ ÛȘ Ę more under the cut .. . âžâž ! âą àŁȘ
chapters:
1. welcome to the academy
2. navigating the mess hall
3. this is a school after all - partially written
4. the girl from nowhere
5. by your side
more to come...
hoonieyun notes: introduciiiiing my next smau !!! with the completion of the girl is mine as per usual i'm going to introduce my next smau c: this is a greek mythology demigods smau with none other than loml jakeyyy i hope you all look forward to it c:
everyone knows loâak sully.
not because heâs loud â though he can be â but because trouble seems to orbit him like gravity. scraped knuckles. split lips. always a little bruised, always a little defiant. teachers donât bother hiding their disappointment. security knows his name. the hall monitors sigh when they see him coming.
he runs with a small crew. not a big gang â not dramatic like the movies â but enough to be dangerous. bikes. late nights. illegal street races. petty theft that sometimes isnât so petty. he doesnât talk about it, but everyone knows.
and then thereâs you.
perfect grades. neat handwriting. hair always done. uniforms pressed just right. strict parents who pick you up on time and check your phone when you get home. youâre polite, soft-spoken, intelligent. the kind of girl teachers smile at.
you and loâak should not exist in the same sentence.
and yet.
aoânung te lan.
number 11. team captain. starting forward. scholarship scouts in the stands every friday night. teachers love him because heâs disciplined, coaches adore him because he delivers, students worship him because⊠well. heâs aoânung.
confident smile. sharp tongue. always surrounded. always winning.
and you?
you sit on the bleachers during practice because youâre the teamâs volunteer stats manager. clipboard clutched to your chest. oversized hoodie. quiet. smart. the kind of girl who disappears into corners and hopes no one notices her shaking hands.
except aoânung notices everything.
neteyam sully is untouchable.
not in the arrogant way â in the how is he real way.
top of the class. student council vice president. varsity athlete. tutors underclassmen after school. teachers trust him with their coffee orders and their keys. parents love him. coaches rely on him. peers look up to him.
he doesnât chase attention.
it follows him.
and you?
youâre the opposite kind of center of gravity.
cheer captain. loud laugh. confident smile. always moving, always shining. you know everyone and everyone knows you. music in your headphones, pep in your step, heart worn openly on your sleeve.
youâre warmth. noise. color.
and somehow, you orbit him.
LO'AK SULLY
you sit two rows ahead of him in history.
loâak slouches in his chair, boots hooked around the metal legs, tapping a pen against the desk like heâs daring it to break. he hasnât slept. you can tellâ dark circles, jaw tight, knuckles raw like heâs been punching walls or worse.
the teacher drones on about revolutions.
ironic.
you feel it before you see itâ his gaze.
not predatory. not mocking. just⊠heavy. like heâs trying not to look and failing.
you turn slightly, just enough to glance back.
he freezes.
caught.
his eyebrows lift in a lazy challenge, mouth quirking like what? but then you look away again, cheeks warm, and something in his expression softens. his pen stops tapping.
after class, chaos spills into the hallway. lockers slam. voices overlap.
youâre struggling with your books when suddenly theyâre lighter.
you blink.
loâak is holding half of them.
âyou walk like youâre carrying bricks,â he mutters.
you stare at him. âi didnât askââ
âyeah, yeah,â he interrupts, already walking. âi know.â
you hurry to keep up, heart pounding because this is dangerous territory. being seen with him. being talked about.
âyouâre gonna get me in trouble,â you whisper.
he scoffs. ârelax. people already think iâm a problem. youâre just collateral.â
âthatâs not comforting.â
he glances at you, something amused flickering in his eyes. âwasnât meant to be.â
when he hands your books back, your fingers brush.
electric.
he pulls away first.
loâak notices everything about you but pretends he doesnât.
the way you chew your pen when youâre thinking. how you tuck your hair behind your ear when youâre nervous. the way you avoid eye contact when youâre lying to your parents.
he never swears around you at first. catches himself mid-word and grumbles under his breath.
your parents hate him without even meeting him. theyâve heard the rumors.
loâak skips class constantly â except the ones youâre in.
heâs fiercely protective, even when he has no right to be.
itâs raining.
your parents are late.
youâre standing under the awning by the front entrance, arms crossed, trying not to panic. you text your mom. no reply.
a motorcycle engine growls nearby.
you know that sound.
âyouâre gonna catch a cold,â loâak says, helmet under his arm.
you frown. âyou shouldnât be here.â
âwhy?â he challenges. âscared someoneâs gonna see us?â
âyes,â you say immediately.
he snorts, but thereâs something bitter in it. âfigured.â
the rain gets heavier.
after a moment, he sighs, running a hand through his curls. âget on.â
your eyes widen. âabsolutely not.â
âyour parents arenât answering. itâs pouring. and iâm not leaving you here.â
âtheyâll kill me.â
âthey donât have to know.â
you hesitate. every rule youâve ever lived by screaming in your head.
loâak softens his tone. âi swear iâll get you home safe.â
you search his face. for lies. for recklessness.
you find sincerity instead.
ââŠokay,â you whisper.
he helps you with the helmet, hands careful, respectful. when you climb on, you keep a polite distance.
the bike roars to life.
âhold on,â he says.
you hesitate againâ then wrap your arms around his waist.
he stills.
just for a second.
then he rides.
slow. controlled. nothing like his usual reckless speed. every turn calculated. every stop smooth.
when you get home, you climb off shakily.
âthanks,â you murmur.
he shrugs, suddenly awkward. âanytime.â
as he rides away, your phone buzzes.
where are you? â mom.
your heart drops.
your parents ground you for a week.
no phone after nine. no going out. no excuses.
at school, you ignore loâak.
not out of crueltyâ out of fear.
he notices.
of course he does.
he corners you by the lockers, jaw tight. âdid i do something?â
you swallow. âwe canât⊠i canât.â
âcanât what?â his voice sharpens. âtalk?â
âbe seen together.â
that hurts him. you see it.
he laughs, hollow. âright. forgot youâre perfect.â
âthatâs not fair,â you whisper. âyou donât know what itâs likeââ
âyeah,â he snaps. âi donât. i donât have anyone checking if i get home alive.â
silence.
then, quieter, âiâd do anything to keep you safe.â
you look at him, eyes shining. âthen stay away.â
that breaks him.
he steps back. nods once. âgot it.â
and he does.
for days.
loâak takes the fall for fights he didnât start if it means you wonât be questioned.
he watches you from afar, making sure no one messes with you.
you keep his old hoodie hidden in your closet. you donât remember how you got it. it smells like rain and gasoline.
he changes. slowly. not for school. not for teachers. for you.
everyone sees him as a problem. you see him as a boy trying to survive.
and somedayâ not yet, but someday, youâll choose each other openly.
AO'NUNG
practice is loud. sneakers squeak, balls thud, coach shouts.
youâre scribbling numbers when a shadow looms over you.
âyou missed one.â
you flinch.
aoânung crouches in front of you, sweat-damp curls pushed back with a headband, hands on his knees. close. too close.
âmissed what?â you ask softly.
âmy assist. second quarter drill.â
you check your sheet. ââŠyouâre right.â
a grin spreads across his face, proud, smug. âtold you.â
you swallow. âsorry.â
âdonât be,â he says easily.
he jogs back onto the court, calling plays like he owns the spaceâ because he does. but every time he scores, he glances at you.
making sure youâre watching.
aoânung loves that youâre quiet. it grounds him.
he starts bringing you water without asking.
everyone assumes youâre invisible. aoânung never does.
he teases you gently, never cruel. saves his sharp edges for everyone else.
you know his stats better than anyone. that secretly matters to him.
after a game, they win.
of course they do.
the gym is chaosâ cheers, chants, phones out. aoânung is swarmed by teammates and friends, clapped on the back, lifted into laughter.
youâre packing up quietly when he finds you.
âhey,â he says, breathless. âyouâre leaving?â
âi didnât want to get in the way.â
he frowns. âyouâre literally part of the team.â
then, without thinking, he grabs your wrist and pulls you toward the locker hallway.
you panic. âaoânungâ!â
he stops, realizing. releases you instantly. ââŠsorry.â
you stare at the floor. âitâs okay.â
he exhales, running a hand down his face. the bravado slips.
âi justââ he hesitates. âyou disappear too fast.â
your heart stutters. âwhy would that matter?â
he looks at you. really looks.
ââŠbecause i like it when you're around.â
you start studying together.
at first, itâs just homework. you tutor him in math. he helps you with confidenceâ correcting you when you apologize too much, making you repeat answers louder.
âagain,â he says gently. âyou know it.â
you nod. âi know it.â
âthen say it like you do.â
slowly, you do.
one night, he shows up late. quieter than usual.
ârough practice?â you ask.
he shakes his head. âscout said iâm good. not great.â
you blink. âthatâs⊠bad?â
âit is when everyone expects perfection.â
he sinks into the chair beside you, shoulders heavy.
âpeople think i donât care,â he mutters. âthat iâm just arrogant.â
you look at him. the real him. âyou care more than anyone.â
his jaw tightens.
ââŠthanks.â
thatâs the night he stops performing around you.
pep rally.
the cheerleaders surround him. cameras flash. someone kisses his cheek. the crowd screams.
you watch from the back, heart sinking. of course this is his world. loud. bright. nothing like you.
you leave early.
later, your phone buzzes.
aoânungâ where did you go
youâ home. didnât want to bother you
thereâs a knock at your door an hour later.
you open it to find him standing there, hoodie pulled tight, eyes serious.
âdonât decide what i want for me,â he says quietly.
you whisper, âi donât belong in your life.â
he steps closer. âyouâre the part that feels real.â
silence stretches.
he doesnât kiss you. doesnât rush.
just rests his forehead against yours.
âwhen youâre ready,â he murmurs. âiâm here.â
aoânung stops showing off when youâre around. doesnât need to.
he listens to you. really listens.
you attend every game. he plays better when he knows youâre there.
he defends you fiercely when people underestimate you.
you teach him humility. he teaches you confidence.
he falls hard. slowly. completely.
NETEYAM SULLY
you meet because of student council.
you flop into the seat beside him like you own the place, ponytail swinging, lip gloss freshly applied.
âhi,â you beam. âyouâre neteyam, right?â
he looks up from his neatly organized notes, blinks once.
ââŠyeah.â
âcool, i'm... cheer captain. i talk a lot.â
a corner of his mouth twitches. âi noticed.â
you laugh, unbothered. âgood. keeps things interesting.â
he glances at you again â really looks this time. the confidence. the ease. the way you fill space so naturally.
interesting is one word for it.
neteyam admires your confidence even if he doesnât understand it at first.
you tease him for color-coding his notes. he pretends to be annoyed.
he always holds doors open for you. always.
everyone assumes youâd never go for someone like him. everyone is wrong.
neteyam is quietly protective. always watching. always aware.
cheer practice runs late.
football practice runs later.
youâre stretching on the sidelines when neteyam jogs over, towel around his neck, hair damp with sweat.
âyou okay?â he asks.
you grin. âme? always.â
you attempt a stunt again. land wrong. wobble.
heâs there instantly, hands on your waist, steadying you.
âcareful,â he murmurs.
your breath catches. âyou stalking me, sully?â
he exhales a soft laugh. âsomeone has to make sure you donât break your neck.â
âwow. romantic.â
he meets your eyes. steady. serious. âi mean it.â
for the first time, your smile softens.
you sit together during lunch now.
people stare. whisper. speculate.
âthey think weâre dating,â you say lightly, popping a fry into your mouth.
neteyam stiffens. âdoes that bother you?â
you tilt your head. âdoes it bother you?â
he considers. honest as always. ââŠno.â
later, you catch him rubbing his temple, staring at a test score like it personally offended him.
âhey,â you say. âyou got a 94.â
âi know.â
âneteyam, thatâs basically illegal.â
he sighs. âi just donât like slipping.â
you lean closer. âyou donât slip. you breathe.â
he looks at you â really looks â and for once, he lets himself smile without restraint.
âyou make things feel lighter,â he admits.
you grin. âtold you i was useful.â
pep rally night.
youâre electric. chants, jumps, smiles so bright they hurt. neteyam watches from the bleachers, arms crossed, eyes never leaving you.
after, he finds you behind the gym, sitting on the steps, energy finally winding down.
âyou okay?â he asks, mirroring your earlier question.
you shrug. âbeing âonâ all the time gets tiring.â
he sits beside you. close, but respectful.
ââŠyou donât have to perform for me,â he says quietly.
your throat tightens.
âyou donât have to be perfect for me either.â
he turns to you, surprised.
and in that moment, something shifts.
itâs late. quiet. just the hum of the lights.
you lean back on your hands. âyou ever do something just for yourself?â
neteyam thinks. ââŠnot enough.â
you smile softly. âyou should.â
he watches you. your openness. your warmth.
ââŠi am,â he says.
you lean in first.
he meets you halfway.
gentle. careful. like he treats everything precious.
when you pull back, his forehead rests against yours.
âiâd protect you with my life,â he says simply.
you laugh softly, eyes shining. âyeah. i know.â
neteyam walks you to your car every night.
you drag him to dances. he pretends to hate them.
he cheers the loudest for you. always.
you remind him life isnât a checklist.
he reminds you youâre more than applause.
together, youâre unstoppable â heart and honor in perfect balance.
goooooshhhhh, this took me years. i'm soooo in love with ao'nung recently. enjoy!
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