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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

Text

to hold and be held

(18+ minors dni)

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 doesn’t 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 doesn’t catch the way Yuuji’s eyes are lingering on you, all star struck and moony. And Megumi pretends his heart doesn’t 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!!

→ playlist for this fic!

read on ao3

***

The sky is endlessly blue.

A bee meanders past Megumi, he can hear it’s 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 it’s 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. It’s always a gamble, a knife’s edge away from death or certain disaster.

It’s 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.

You’re 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. It’s 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 he’d say he wants to protect it, keep that part of you safe and untouched, but he doesn’t need to. You have seen every horrible thing he has and still come out of it with a brightness that doesn’t dim.

It’s fitting, really, with your cursed technique.

You nudge him now, gently, and whisper, “I think Yuuji fell asleep.”

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 Nobara’s attention, though, and she sits up, peering to look at Yuuji, too.

She snorts at his slack jaw, the way he’s almost snoring.

“We should leave him here so when he wakes up, he has no idea where we’ve gone.” Nobara suggests and Megumi can hear the mischievous tilt of her lips.

You sit up now, too, and Megumi’s 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 doesn’t know it— 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.)

“That isn’t very nice, Nobara,” you scold, but it’s with amusement. And then, “we should put flowers on him and see how long it takes for him to wake up.”

Megumi finally eases himself up now, too.

He can feel his cheeks growing pink with a sunburn. He should’ve worn that sunscreen you told him to. Or the fancy one Nobara so graciously offered him.

“Doesn’t he have allergies?” Megumi finally speaks up.

Nobara snorts, “Loser. C’mon, I bet we can cover him in them.”

And just like that she’s 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 him—Yuuji is a deep sleeper, Megumi doubts he’ll wake any time soon—he looks a little otherworldly.

Well, he always has, hasn’t he?

You start putting the flowers on his cheeks, biting back your laughter when he doesn’t even twitch. Nobara tangles some more in his hair, along his ears. The sun warms Megumi’s 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.

“Watch it, idiot!”

Flowers and petals go flying. Pink and pale blue and lilac and red float around the four of you.

Yuuji is confused— 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, “Uh—what happened?”

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 Yuuji’s 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 isn’t unnatural—you're very affectionate with all of them. Certainly the most affectionate of the four of them.

But this does something strange to Megumi’s chest, watching the way Yuuji’s broad and scarred palms fit around the curve of your waist, your torso.

Something is changing. He can feel it. He pretends he doesn’t 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 doesn’t catch the way Yuuji’s eyes are lingering on you, all star struck and moony.

And Megumi pretends his heart doesn’t twist painfully in the pit of his chest.

Nobara wants to race back, excluding Yuuji, since it isn’t fair.

Megumi declares he’s not running, so it’s just you and Nobara.

You both take off through the field on Yuuji’s 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 he’d caught Yuuji in a compromising moment. As if he’d seen something he shouldn’t.

But then Yuuji says, “Fushiguro, can I tell you something?”

Yuuji looks at him far too earnestly. He always has.

Megumi would usually drawl out something like, you’re going to tell me regardless, aren’t you?

He would act unimpressed and irritated.

But for whatever reason, with the tone of Yuuji’s voice and the color of the sky, your laughter high on the wind, Megumi can only find it in himself to say, “sure.”

Yuuji says your name and there is something so hopeful in it, something so pure and blooming. “I think I—“

Yuuji looks back out at you and Nobara, distant figures now.

“I think I like her, you know?”

Megumi would laugh or roll his eyes if he didn’t feel his stomach twist up into knots. It’s such a childish thing to say. And you’re all adults now but— but still young.

You were kids together.

It’s childish but perhaps fitting. It’s strangely innocent, which perhaps makes it even more honest.

“Like more than a friend,” Yuuji explains, and Megumi has to force himself to nod a little in understanding. He has to force himself to keep a neutral face.

“Which is strange because she’s always been here. And we’ve always been friends but—I guess something’s changed.” Yuuji tries to explain, looking back out at you with that fond look on his face again.

Megumi looks away.

“Do you think it’s—I mean, I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Do you think it’d be bad, if I asked her out or something?” Yuuji asks, his tawny eyes getting caught in the sun. It turns them molten and bright, seeking Megumi's opinion. Maybe his approval. It’s 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 don’t think it’d be a good idea. Not because he believes that, but rather, because he’s 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 you’d both looked at each other, he thinks of Yuuji’s hands on you and–

“I don’t think it’d be bad.” 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 Yuuji’s face, “No? You don’t think so?” He asks excitedly, “Do you think she’ll say yes?”

Megumi feels his heart splinter, a lump threatening to form in his throat. He thinks of how you’d looked at Yuuji–

It was the same way Megumi looked at you. Too tender, full of a little too much longing.

“Yeah, Itadori, I think she’ll say yes.”

Itadori tells him he’s 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 he’s never really wanted to push Yuuji away. He’s 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 you’re all back at the dorm—

(Which none of you can quite leave yet despite graduating, though Nobara is looking at apartments in Tokyo. She’s determined to get out, but also reluctant to part from you all. He thinks he’s 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 Yuuji’s 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.

“C’mere, you get one, too,” 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.

It’s Megumi’s turn to blush now, he can feel it prickle his cheeks.

Nobara snickers, which only makes his blush worse.

“Goodnight, boys,” you sigh, before turning back to Nobara and throwing your arm around her, “let’s go, Nobara,” you yawn, letting your head fall onto her shoulder, “‘m tired.”

“Goodnight,” Yuuji calls after you faintly, a little wistful.

Nobara gives a dismissive wave as she leads you away. He knows you hate sleeping alone. You’ll sleep pressed to Nobara’s side, like you do most nights.

(And when Nobara’s gone, you come to Megumi or Yuuji’s door, beg for them to watch movies with you all night and fall asleep on the couch. He knows you—)

“‘Night, Fushiguro.” Yuuji then says, sweet and chipper. “See you tomorrow!”

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.

“Goodnight, Itadori,” he mutters, let’s out a harsh breath that he’d 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.

There’s 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 petal—slick 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, you’d 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 Megumi’s help to ask you out.

“What should I do?” Yuuji paces the length of Megumi’s 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.

“Just ask if she wants to get dinner.” 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 he’s hurting. He doesn’t want to tell Yuuji what he would do, if it was him asking you out. He doesn’t want to give Yuuji good ideas.

It’s so selfish of him.

He’s terrible.

It’s why he’s 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, “but what if she thinks I mean as a friend still?”

Megumi sighs lightly.

He clears his throat, now tight, “you could just tell her how you feel.”

“Is that what you would do? If you were the one who liked her?” 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.

“I’d get her a gift,” Megumi replies, and his voice is almost hushed, a little too honest, “something small but nice. And I’d–” he pauses to make sure his voice is safe from wavering, “I’d tell her how I feel.”

When Megumi’s eyes cross to Yuuji’s, he realizes Yuuji’s looking at him a little surprised. There’s something raw in the widening of his eyes. Megumi feels suddenly like he’s admitted too much, like he’s done something horrible. Should he flee? Should he apologize? He shies away from Yuuji’s gaze.

“Fushiguro, that’s surprisingly romantic!” Yuuji then exclaims, his face lighting up, “who knew you were such a casanova?”

“Tch,” Megumi scoffs, “hardly.”

Yuuji takes a seat beside Megumi on his bed, eager and buzzing, “will you help me pick out a gift for her?”

His eyes are so hopeful, so sweet.

Megumi tries to swallow around the horrible thing budding in his throat, “yeah, sure, I can help.”

“You’re the best!” 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.

It’s a sweet sound, almost pressed into the nape of Megumi’s 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 can’t have you or Yuuji finding out especially—he doesn’t want to ruin anything for either of you two.

He knows if Yuuji discovered Megumi’s 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 wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let that happen.

But he doesn’t 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.

“What do you think about all this?” She asks, hand on her hip, scrutinizing gaze zeroed in on the two of you.

“It’s fine, I guess,” Megumi answers plainly, but then he makes the mistake of saying, “I don’t care.”

There’s a catch in his voice. A piercing jab in the space between his ribs.

That sharp gaze of Nobara’s cuts to him now, pins him in place.

She studies him for a long moment. Megumi squirms.

“I don’t believe you,” she decides.

“You don’t have to,” Megumi sighs, trying for disinterest, perpetually annoyed.

Your bubbling laugh springs out from you happily and Megumi’s gaze is instantly drawn to you. Yuuji has offered you the gift–a necklace Megumi helped him pick out.

It’s simple, nothing overwhelming or too extravagant. A thin, gold chain, with a gold sun pendant attached. Megumi imagines it’ll 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.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Nobara asks and genuinely, she seems perplexed.

“There’s nothing to say,” 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 about–slipping 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 Yuuji’s joyful laugh now, too.

He watches Yuuji wrap broad arms around you, squeeze tight and lift you a little off the ground. It’s all playful, all a little too sweet.

“Whatever,” Nobara responds, “suffer in silence, then. You’ll choke on all that noble humility eventually. And who are you going to come running to when you do? Me. Then I’m going to say–”

He could laugh, if she even knew the half of it.

“Are you done?” Megumi asks, feeling his stomach turn.

She sniffs and tilts her chin up, “just know that I’m not mature enough to hold back my ‘I told you so.’ No matter how upset you are when you finally come to me!”

Megumi’s 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.

“I know, Kugisaki.”

***

Megumi watches as you try on dress after pretty dress. He’s in your dorm room, averting his gaze dutifully every time you peel one off to put on another.

Usually this is Nobara’s job—to 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 he’d caught a little more than he should’ve, the reflection of you in the mirror so pretty.

Nudity hasn’t been an issue in years for the four of you. Not after so many missions where he’s had to peel shirts or pants off for injuries—or the one where he and Yuuji nearly froze to death in wet clothes, so they’d stripped fully naked and had to sleep beside each other.

It’d been a strange night, that was for sure.

But regardless, you’d all become too close (to death, to each other) to care about changing in front of one another.

Megumi is still the shyest—Yuuji and Nobara care very little and will strip whenever they please. You’re 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.

“What do you think?”

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, too—

He clears his dry throat.

“It looks really nice.”

You’re looking for more of an answer, he can tell, “Do you think Yuuji would like it?”

“Yuuji would like you in a brown paper bag.” Megumi responds automatically and it’s true. He knows it’s true. Something inside his chest tightens.

“Megumi,” you whine and he feels the tips of his ears go red, “give me something here. Nobara would tell me what sort of message it’s sending. And you’re a boy and also Yuuji’s best friend. Don’t you guys talk about this stuff?”

In truth, all Yuuji’s talked about lately is you. But Megumi doesn’t 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 skirt—

Megumi feels suddenly feverish. A little woozy.

There’s something so fucking wrong with him.)

“Um,” Megumi swallows, letting his eyes glance over your body in the dress. It’s sweet, the neckline higher, but maybe a little simple. He thinks Nobara would call it boring. He swallows, “what sort of message do you want it to send?”

“A little flirty, maybe. I want him to—I don’t know, I want to tease him a little.” 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.

“I-I don’t know—“

“I mean, you’re still a guy, Megumi. What would you think fits that, then?”

Megumi can’t 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 doesn’t like the idea of revealing this to you, what he’d like you in, what he wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about you in, what one wouldn’t keep his hands off you—

He tries to slam the door on all those thoughts.

But you asked him. And now you’re flustered, too.

A really quiet, horrible part of Megumi also realizes that you’d 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.

“Do you still have that blue one?” He asks softly, his voice a quiet rasp.

You perk up a little, tilting your head, “the light blue one?”

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 doesn’t 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, “will you help me?”

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 mirror–he doesn’t want to see what he looks like behind you, the curve of your back in the cradle of his chest. He doesn’t 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, “Megumi?”

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.

“Will you tie this for me?” 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. You’re holding the two ribbons of silk in place that will tie the dress to you. It’s short, skimming the tops of your thighs. The skirt lays pretty, flutters a little–he 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 it’ll be Yuuji’s hands who untie it later.

And then he does something selfish, something he’s always wanted–he sets his broad hands along your waist, smooths the fabric down a little.

“There,” he murmurs and picks his eyes up to find yours in the mirror.

Oh, and it’s horrible.

You look so pretty in his hands, standing in front of him.

You’re looking at him a little surprised, lips parted, eyes wide. You’re looking at him like you’re 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 they’ll creep up his throat to try and get to your light.

The necklace Yuuji gave you–the one Megumi picked out–rests 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, “you look beautiful.”

You’re 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.

“Thank you,” you say and he thinks it’s breathier than you intended. He doesn’t want to think about it, but he knows he will.

He lifts his hands from you reluctantly.

“I should go,” Megumi says and he tries to keep any dismay from his voice, “I’m sure Yuuji will want my help, too.”

You swallow, nodding, as if remembering, as if jolting yourself back to reality.

“Of course,” you laugh, but it’s nervous, unsure. Then you turn round eyes on him, almost pleading, “I’ll see you later, then?”

Megumi nods, trying to swallow around the sudden lump in his throat, “yeah, see you later. Have fun tonight.”

You open your mouth to say something more, but Megumi turns away. He can’t stay. He can’t stand to see you more, to watch you get ready for a date with someone that isn’t him. It’s horrible, it’s so selfish of him, but he just can’t stomach it.

He doesn’t 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 out–

He starts to choke on it, the long stem, gagging and gasping for breath around it. His chest heaves desperately, fighting for air, for relief–

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. He’s miserable, he’s aching, and all he can think about is the look on your face, your pretty dress. The color of bluebells. Yuuji’s 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 Megumi’s had been, like he’d found the phantom indents on you. Like his hands sought Megumi’s, 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.

It’s 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, he’d been thrilled, almost jittery with the need to see the two of you in action against each other, with each other.

(Gojo hadn’t been the only one interested in your interactions at the time, Sukuna had taken great interest, too.)

Over the years, you’d found ways to compliment each other well. Light creates more shadow. You move easily with each other, a naturality when you fall into each other’s orbit, like the moon and the sun.

Though, today, you’d kicked his ass every single time.

He had yielded easily to you, went down quick and hard.

He hadn’t felt well and then you’d skipped after Yuuji at the end of it all, tucked yourself up against his side, snug and happy as could be.

He’d thrown up, when he’d been alone.

Or thought he’d been alone.

Gojo had popped up over his shoulder, peering at the mess of it all.

“Uh oh,” he says now, a little too lightly, almost singing it, “Hanahaki disease. That’s not good.”

Not good like it’s a cold and not something that will kill Megumi.

“No shit,” Megumi spits, then wipes at his chin with the back of his hand.

“And bluebells, too, huh? Bit of a shy flower. But enduring and humble.” Gojo says, tilting his head before a smile splits across his face, “say, that’s very fitting for you, Megumi!”

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.

“I had that once.” He says casually.

Megumi whips his head to the side so hard he nearly gives himself whiplash.

“What?” He snaps, desperate suddenly for relief, for an answer, for Gojo’s help, like he’s still a child, “What did you– how did you get rid of it?”

Gojo leans away, shoving his hands into his pockets.

If this is a sore subject for him, he doesn’t seem to convey it. Though Megumi doesn’t think he’d ever be able to tell what goes on inside of Gojo’s 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;

“You should talk to Shoko, she knows how to handle it.”

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 away–whenever you and Yuuji grow too obvious in your affection, she snaps at the pair of you.

“Gross! I don’t want to see Itadori slobbering all over you!” she’ll complain but Megumi thinks she doesn’t actually mind, rather, she does it for his sake.

“I don’t slobber on her!” Yuuji always protests.

“Whatever. Keep that lovey-dovey shit away from me.”

“I’m gonna say the same thing about you and Maki next time!”

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. It’s 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.

There’s a night when you show up for movies in one of Megumi’s hoodies. Megumi does a double take on you only to realize–yes, that’s his. The sleeves are too long on you. It’s a midnight blue, soft and worn. He’s had it for years.

Before he can think, he blurts out, “that’s mine.”

You blink up at him owlishly, lifting your hands as if to inspect the sleeves that dwarf them. It’s threadbare, unraveling like his heart the longer he looks at you in his clothes.

“It was in Yuuji’s closet,” you respond, “I didn’t know–”

“Oh,” 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 hadn’t been feeling well, chilled and achy, feverish with curse or flu, they hadn’t known. But Megumi had offered him the sweatshirt off his back, and watched as Yuuji wriggled into it. He’d watched as Yuuji flipped up the hood and sunken into its warmth, leftover from Megumi, given from him to the other.

He’d 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?

“Do you want it back?” You ask him earnestly, shifting like you might pull to lift it off.

“No,” Megumi decides, his heart being tugged at, twisted up with roots, spasming painfully, “it’s fine, really.”

Megumi sits in the center of the couch that night, with Yuuji laid out on his back on one end, legs propped up onto Megumi’s lap and tangled with Nobara’s, who claimed the other side of the couch for herself, curled in on her side. You sleep peacefully on Yuuji’s chest, fallen asleep early into the movie marathon.

And when it’s late and dark, Megumi glances at the two of you, at Yuuji’s fluttering lashes as he fights to stay awake. The soft rise and fall of your back, your face tucked into Yuuji’s neck. Megumi notices Yuuji’s 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 Yuuji’s hand, he can’t say.)

He feels sick with it all–the 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.

“Let’s go for a walk.” She says, sitting up.

Megumi is about to protest, but she is already up, grabbing at her shoes. She’s clumsy from sleep, too. He doesn’t know why she’s doing this–

But the moment they’re out, breathing in the balmy night air, under a sky full of wayward stars, she says, “you know, I never pegged you for such a masochist.”

“What are you talking about?” he asks, perhaps harsher than he should’ve.

She only sends him a half-hearted glare.

“You should’ve said something, when I told you to.”

“There’s nothing to say.” Megumi repeats.

But his voice catches, something fragile tucked away in the corners.

“Alright, fine. There’s nothing to say, then.” 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. He’s 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, it’s 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.

“Megumi,” 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. You’re sun warm, almost sleepy. “Megumi, will you tell me?” 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 can’t speak.

You scatter bloody kisses to his jaw, to his throat, like red petals against his pale skin. “C’mon, say it, Megumi, please?” you whisper.

And then it’s Yuuji at his back, voice soft and coaxing, sweet against the nape of his neck, “it’s okay, you can say it.”

Megumi tries to ask, tries to speak, but his throat tightens up. Blood falls from his bruised lips. He’s being strangled from the inside. He’s 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, “just say it, Megumi, it’s okay– c’mon, please? Please?” you beg desperately.

Yuuji’s 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.

You’re crying now, grasping at him as he chokes. “Megumi, please–”

He coughs wetly, spitting up crimson onto your chest, your neck. Now it’s 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.

There’s 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 hasn’t 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 Yuuji’s 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 Yuuji’s name and the muted creak of his bed.

Megumi imagines Yuuji tossing you into it. Covering you. Yuuji’s broad and strong, he’d almost shroud you—

He squeezes his eyes shut sharply.

He knows Yuuji’s 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 won’t survive this. He prays you two will go to sleep, that it’ll be silent once more.

And it is quiet, almost uncomfortably so before Megumi hears a whimper, muffled by the wall.

It’s your whimper, bursts sweet and hot from you and nestles itself deep into Megumi.

Yuuji hushes you, “we’ve gotta be quiet–we don’t want Fushiguro to hear us.”

Something inside of him squirms, wrestles around to make him bite the inside of his cheek.

“‘Gumi’s probably asleep by now,” he can barely hear your voice, faded and soft around the edges.

“Yeah and we don’t wanna wake him–”

There’s more silence, then, another creak in the bed that makes Megumi’s stomach swoop. A little stuttered gasp that he’s 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 he’ll suffocate on.

He can hear rustling. A little yip from you, followed by Yuuji’s breathy laugh–

“Sorry,” Yuuji murmurs, “I get a little too excited.”

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 can’t quite hear your response. He’s ashamed because he strains to hear it but doesn’t, misses it, before there’s 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 Yuuji’s bare back, muscles rippling, your legs hitched over his waist. Or Yuuji’s 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 kiss–

“Yuuji–” 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.

He’s sick, there’s something so fucking wrong with him–

“Easy, pretty girl,” Yuuji’s voice is so fond, too intimate, a laugh curling at its edges, “‘m not going anywhere.”

“Want you–”

Megumi tastes blood in his mouth.

It’s Yuuji’s soft moan that makes Megumi sit bolt right up in bed like it’d struck him. He’s furious and aching and ashamed, feels it color his insides. He can feel the bow of a bluebell flower, it’s 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.

He’s gonna be sick again–

He wrenches himself from bed. He throws on clothes, fumbles in the dark with shaking fingers. He doesn’t bother trying to be quiet when he pulls open his door and storms out of his dorm. He let’s it slam on his way out. He isn’t careful.

He wonders if you both pause, if you froze, or if you’re 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 doesn’t, 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 Yuuji’s, it’s 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, Yuuji’s blood to water them.

Now the fruits of your labors have paid off and Megumi is nothing but an ill man, lovesick and poisoned. He’ll 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 didn’t already feel the pressure of tears.

He feels—

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, Yuuji’s hums against petaled lips.

Still, even as he’s 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 Megumi’s 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 Megumi’s 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 she’ll get it cut soon, can’t stand to feel it on her shoulders too much.

“Maki and I found an apartment,” Nobara mentions and she says it with a sort of bluntness that makes him feel like she’s ripping off a bandaid. It’s like he’s 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 wasn’t so bad afterall.

Megumi intakes a slow breath and the instant flush of pain blossoms sharply and then quickly fades. He’s happy for her. He’ll be happy to visit her and Maki. It’s fine. He’ll 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 isn’t.

What’s he supposed to do when you’re 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.

“Have you ever considered looking for a place? It’d do you well to get out of the dorms, too.” Nobara then says and though she can tell melancholy has taken hold of him, she doesn’t 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.

“Yeah, I guess.” Megumi responds, almost grumbling. Nobara rolls her eyes.

She’s about to open her mouth and say more, but your shrieking pulls both of their attention. Yuuji’s got you tossed over his shoulder as he wades further into the water. You’re beating at his back a little, fitful little pulls and kicking to get him to stop.

“Yuuji– no, stop! Don’t! Yuuji–!”

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, “the water is so warm! You guys should come in!”

“I’m not ruining this shirt!” 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.

“Oh no,” 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.

“Itadori, if you come near me, I’ll kill you–”

“Ah, Kugisaki, c’mon–”

“Megumi,” you sing his name like a bird, happy and excited, reaching for him with wiggling fingers.

He shakes his head, “I’m not going in the water.”

You reach for his arm, latch tight onto his forearm and give a tug. He doesn’t budge, but his eyes fall to the curve of your fingers around his skin.

“Itadori!” Nobara yells, furious and squirming in the hold he has on her. It’s 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.

There’s a splash and Nobara goes quiet for a moment, Yuuji’s laugh winds with yours then.

And then you’re pulling him to the water and he’s 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 can’t help his own laugh, small, but bursting from him, wet and raw, to join yours and Yuuji’s 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, he’d fix it.

If he was Yuuji, he’d kiss you.

“Megumi!” You squeal the way you’d said Yuuji’s name, too, surprised and delighted.

But Megumi’s 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, he’d cling to Yuuji.

If Megumi was you, he’d 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 he’s a teenager again and the whole world is trying to devour him, like all that’s 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 she’ll 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 it’s 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 other’s sides, brush elbows, talk in hushed voices, like you’ll 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 should’ve said something–

But what would he have said?

I’m in love with you– I love you, I don’t know when it started but now I can’t stop it. I love you and it’s 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 it’s killing me.

His stomach suddenly lurches. He pales sharply, gripping at his own doorframe.

Nobara eyes him, “what’s wrong with you?”

He can’t 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.

“Fushiguro!” Kugisaki calls after him, but he barely gets to the sink in his bathroom before he’s 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 couldn’t fathom getting rid of it. It’s 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 can–)

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.

“Fushiguro, are you–”

She gasps when she sees the sink, when she finally takes it in. There’s a long silence.

He spits into the sink, hangs his head.

“Oh God,” she says, horror filling her voice.

He swallows, turns shining eyes on her.

“I told you,” 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, “dammit, Fushiguro, I told you!”

And he can’t 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 she’s only angry because she’s 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.

“You’ve really done it this time,” Nobara tries to joke, “which one are you even in love with anyways?”

Megumi catches her eyes and he must look stricken or panicked or too raw, because her face falls, her lips part in surprise.

“No–” she starts, “I was joking.”

Megumi swallows, tasting blood. He shakes his head and when he speaks, his voice is painfully rough, just a rasp, “I wish I was.”

Nobara curses again, softly, shaking her head like she can’t believe it.

“You’re an idiot, Fushiguro.”

“I know,” he mumbles.

She leans into him, though, touches her temple to his shoulder, “And we’re gonna get you through this. You’re not dying like this after all these years.”

Megumi is silent for a long moment. He almost wants to snap that he won’t 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, “you’re supposed to say I know, Kugisaki.”

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 Yuuji’s brilliance. He thinks he’s going to be sick the rest of the night again.

But Nobara is solid beside him, like she’s always been. He lets out a slow, trembling breath. He tries to will his tears away.

“I know, Kugisaki.”

***

“Fushiguro, you really haven’t been looking too good lately.”

Yuuji is peering up into Megumi’s face. They’re 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.

“I’m fine.” Megumi says plainly.

“Are you sure? You look paler than usual.” Yuuji tells him and he’s sure if you were here, you would be elbowing him because it sounds unintentionally rude.

“I’m fine.” Megumi bites out this time, if only to get him to stop prying.

Yuuji says your name, soft, rounded along the edges, “she’s worried about you, you know?”

“What?”

“Yeah, she just says she thinks somethings wrong. She worries about you a lot. I mean, not that I don’t! But she’s more observant than me, so I’ve been told.” 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?

“She is more observant than you.” Megumi agrees dryly.

“So there is something wrong with you?” Yuuji asks, turning to walk backwards in front of Megumi, forcing them to look at each other.

“I’m fine, Itadori.” Megumi says again, glances away from the raw concern that has flooded Yuuji’s face.

“Jeeze, you’re stubborn.” He says, and then adds, “well, if you ever need to talk or anything–I’m here for you. We both are.”

“Hey, watch it–!”

Megumi doesn’t think he’s ever been so thankful for the appearance of a curse. Yuuji almost knocks straight into it. And then he’s 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, it’s you who greets them. You were in Yuuji’s room, in one of his shirts. Megumi tries to sneak into his own room, but you call after him.

“Do you have bandaids? That cut doesn’t look too good.” You tell him.

He doesn’t respond fast enough, and doesn't have it in him to try and lie to you, so he lets you pull him into Yuuji’s 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 you’re urging him to sit on the edge of Yuuji’s bed and fetching a first aid kit for him. Then you’re easing close to him, almost standing between his legs. Then your hands are careful and dabbing at the cut across his brow.

Then it’s just you and him.

You wipe away the blood with a love and gentleness he wishes he didn’t know. You brush his hair from his face. You tend to him the way a mother might a child, like he’s fragile, breakable under your hands.

Maybe he is.

“You seem distant lately,” you murmur and Megumi casts his eyes up to your face in surprise, “are you upset with me?”

“What? No.” Megumi says quickly, guilt twinging hard inside of him, knowing that he’s made you feel bad. “No, not at all.”

“I thought maybe–” 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, “you know you mean the world to me, don’t you? To both of us. I don’t like–” your voice breaks, “I don’t want to lose you–or something, because of–”

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, straining–

“You wouldn’t ever lose me,” 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 he’s always a little too far away, held at a distance, so he lets his hands fall away, like petals that fall from the flower.

“Are you–are we okay?” 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, “of course we’re okay.” 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, “you guys wanna watch a movie tonight? Fushiguro, you can use my shower if you want–”

He glances at the pair of you two, you standing so close, and doesn’t even bat an eye. “I really wanna watch an action movie, but I can be persuaded into a rom-com, too.”

You share a look with Megumi, fighting back a smile. He can’t help the hitch in his own lips, a nervous slip of a smile, but a smile nonetheless.

You reach for the antiseptic, and murmur, “you’ll stay, won’t you?”

Your eyes are nearly begging him.

How could he say no?

Megumi nods smally, trying to keep his stomach from revolting on him, “sure.”

The antiseptic stings, steals his attention momentarily, before you’re settling the bandaid to his skin.

“I have some of your clothes you could wear, Fushiguro.” 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 Megumi’s 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.

It’d be endearing, if Megumi wasn’t glaring at his boxers in Yuuji’s hand, cheeks flushing darkly, “when did you even take those?”

Yuuji laughs nervously, “awhile ago? I promise they’re clean! They’re also too tight on me.”

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.

It’s still steamy.

He uses Yuuji’s 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 shouldn’t stay with you two, shouldn’t watch this movie but–

But he can’t 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. It’s not like Megumi’s room, where he has a small couch everyone can pile onto, the only thing in front of Yuuji’s TV is his bed. He almost wants to ask if you’re both sure, but then you’re turning off the overhead light and crawling into bed, settling yourself beneath the covers, between Yuuji’s legs. You curl up against his chest.

And then you fold the covers over and pat the spot next to both of you.

Megumi’s heart lurches.

But his feet move before he can stop himself.

He slips into bed beside you two. His shoulder touches Yuuji’s. His hips to his. His legs against his. Against yours. He feels as if he’s going to shake apart.

But the movie begins (a rom com, certainly), and the light is soft from the TV. It’s 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.

Yuuji’s head falls onto Megumi’s shoulder. He’s 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 Yuuji’s head is at a better angle, pressing himself tighter to his friend. He doesn’t know if this is all worse for him, maybe it’s better if he keeps his distance, grows a bluebell inside him until it kills him, maybe that’d 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 it’s maw like the blood that falls from Megumi’s lips.

He drifts off, warm, sated, taken care of.

(Loved, if he knew, if he’d 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 you’re both asleep, none the wiser.

But how could he leave now? When he’s had a taste?

He thought he’d be able to live in your outskirts, in the peripheral, on the other side of the wall, but now that he’s had something more–even just a little more, a fraction of what he could’ve had–he has no idea how he’s supposed to live with anything less.

(He can’t actually, won’t–)

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 Yuuji’s leg thrown over yours, feels limb and skin, feels love and fondness stuck along his ribcage.

He eases his arm over you, let’s his hand lay on Yuuji’s 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 he’ll blame it on sleep, he’ll deny with a red face or choke out apologies.

But tonight he holds you, tangles his legs with Yuuji’s, 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, you’ll lie awake, too, knowing what Megumi’s 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 can’t 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. He’s feverish, body aching, chilled despite the high summer.

It’s 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 isn’t trying to kill him, he let’s Nobara actually coddle him. She’s 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, “should I get Maki? Should I get Shoko?”

Who can help you? She seems to beg him and all he can do is shake his head.

Eventually, she says, “you have to tell them.”

“No,” he croaks, “I can’t.”

“You have to, or I’ll get Shoko and she’ll remove it–”

“Please, no– I don’t– I can’t.”

Nobara’s hold on him turns a little sharp, “you’ll die if you don’t do something.”

Her voice is vicious, but she’s squeezing him tight.

He feels nauseous, delirious, and weak. He feels the pressure of tears burn and ache in his head, “they’re so happy.” He gets out, choked and rough.

“Fushiguro–”

“I can’t ruin it for them– please, I can’t, I can’t–” 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 Nobara’s 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, “you need to tell them.”

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 they’re 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 can’t get the words to come out, tongue thick and heavy with the taste of earth and bluebells.

***

Megumi doesn’t know it, but after he’d left Yuuji’s bed, there’d 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 doesn’t know if he’s dreaming or not. You lean over his bed to press your palm to his face, check his fever.

“He’s burning up,” you turn to say to Yuuji, who says something Megumi doesn’t 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.

“Hey,” you murmur, your smile is sad–he hates that he’s made you sad. “Yuuji’s getting you ice and then he’s going to get Shoko.”

Megumi shakes his head a little, “no, I’m fine–”

“Megumi, we know you’re not.” You hush and something about it pulls at a precarious part of him. He goes very, very still.

“We’re worried about you,” 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.

“I have to tell you something,” Megumi blurts out and it feels like needles in his throat, in his chest, a ball of nails. A curse’s teeth in his jugular.

“Okay,” you encourage gently.

But the moment he’s presented with the opportunity, he wants to clam up and hide. He wants to waste away. He wants to throw up–

“It’s alright,” Yuuji urges, “you can tell us anything.”

Megumi doesn’t know when he started to cry, but suddenly you’re cooing, and brushing away his tears, “hey, don’t cry–please, don’t cry, Megumi. Why are you crying?”

And he finally lets go of that held breath, let’s it out of him in a terrified exhale, speaks what was unspoken;

“Because I love you– because I’m in love with you.”

He doesn’t 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. They’ve 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.

He’s finally said it, ruined it all, ruined everything–

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 doesn’t look surprised or hurt or angry.

“I–I don’t understand.”

“I love you, too.” You hush, eyes flying over his face.

But Megumi’s eyes are on Yuuji’s, prying, desperate for his response, “I can’t–”

“Relax, Fushiguro, it’s okay.”

“No it isn’t,” Megumi almost pleads, “you love her–you love her and you’re happy. I don’t want to–”

“Yeah, I do. I am.” Yuuji agrees and for a horrifying, terrible moment, Megumi thinks that Yuuji is giving you up for him. Megumi knew it would happen– he knew it, which is why he didn’t 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 there’s anyone in the world that deserves love, it’s Yuuji. Megumi’s stomach turns over, he’s about to protest, but Yuuji stops him, “but it’s okay. I can love you, too, can’t I?”

His voice is tentative, almost shy, but the tension in Megumi’s body finally gives way. It dissolves like honey in hot water, slow and easy. Something unfurls inside of him, but this time it doesn’t hurt, it doesn’t come with blood and pain and fear. There’s nothing there except the bloom of love—

To love and be loved back.

“Don’t cry, Megumi,” you hush, but he thinks you might be crying, too. He can’t 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. “We love you, we love you—“

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.

There’s the crinkle of a cup that breaks the seriousness, Yuuji’s sheepish laugh. Yours followed. Fondness tightens around Megumi’s heart.

“I should still go get Shoko,” he says, “and you should take these.”

He offers the cup of ice to Megumi and you pull away fractionally to allow him to take it.

But Megumi grabs Yuuji’s wrist before he can get up, “I don’t need Shoko anymore.”

“Megumi, you’ve been sick for too long—“ you respond.

“It was—it was hanahaki disease.”

You and Yuuji both go perfectly still.

“I’ll be okay now.”

You throw your arms around Megumi’s neck hard enough to knock back into his bed, crying, getting out something about, “why didn’t you tell us? What were you thinking? You could’ve died—“

Yuuji urges you away a little, “hey, easy with him.”

“‘M okay.” Megumi murmurs into your temple, glancing up at Yuuji. “I’m okay.”

And he is. He’s okay. He lets out a shaking breath, he curls an arm around you.

There’s plenty to discuss and smooth out, questions he desperately wants to ask, but it’s 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 he’d never know.

He falls asleep between both of you that night, tucked into his bed, warm bare skin to his to soothe his heart. Yuuji’s arm, heavy and comforting, is thrown over his middle. He can feel his breaths at the nape of neck, his quiet snores. You’re curled against his chest, tucked into the crooks of his body.

Tomorrow will feel painfully normal.

Megumi will feel the best he’s 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 Yuuji’s hair.

But tonight, his heart will quiet in the crux of his chest.

And you will dot kisses there, like you’re trying to soothe what’s 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. He’s overly tentative at first, terrified that he’ll 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. He’s 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 Yuuji’s neck. Not because he doesn’t want either of you, but maybe because he’s 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 it’s edged with masochism, a bowing to all that is greater, brow to the floor at the feet of love.

You’re eager tonight, though, playful in a way that’s making his head spin, rolling around in bed with him and Yuuji. Megumi tries to keep his cool, but it’s hard when you’re settling the weight of your thighs into his lap, when you’re 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.

“Sorry,” Yuuji says with his smile curving around the bend of your shoulder, though he doesn’t 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 Yuuji’s, sliding into them, brushing over them. You make another little noise, but this time, it’s 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 he’s gotta be careful because if you press down any harder, settle heavier into his lap, you’ll feel–

He pulls away, feeling his cheeks light up, turn hot and rosy.

“A little kissing got you flustered, Fushiguro?” Yuuji asks, almost too pleasantly.

“Shut up,” Megumi mutters, feeling his face just get impossibly warmer.

“Leave ‘m alone, Yuuji.” You hush, kissing at his pinkened cheeks. You nudge your nose to his gently, “do you want to keep going?”

Megumi’s heart rabbits in his chest, fingers tightening fractionally around your waist, around one of Yuuji’s fingers. Of course he wants to keep going, he wants you so bad that he’d been sick with it.

“If you want–if it ‘s okay.” Megumi finally exhales, feeling the shaky breath that comes out against the curve of your jaw as he noses there.

“Yeah,” 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. He’s certain Yuuji’s already left a few, and feels the need to catch up. “Yeah, it’s okay.”

Your hands sink into Megumi’s hair, tugging lightly to get him to tip his head back, to offer his lips up to you for another kiss. Yuuji’s hands are moving again, one squirming beneath your shirt, easing it up. Megumi’s fingers skim the bare skin of your back. You let yourself sink heavier into this kiss, put weight into it, hips twitching into his–

He feels your gasp more than he hears it.

And he’s 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 can’t 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 Yuuji’s caught on, and his hands guide your waist into rocking against Megumi’s again.

He pulls away from the kiss breathless.

Megumi can feel Yuuji push closer to your back, eager, nose nudging at your cheek, “‘s he hard?”

Megumi’s ears go red, too.

Yuuji’s 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.

“Yuuji!” You gasp in what was supposed to be admonishment for the blunt question, but then tapers off into a mewl as Megumi watches Yuuji’s 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 Yuuji’s hands cup and squeeze at you.

“Hey, Fushiguro, get her shirt off,” Yuuji says and his voice is a little rougher, a little more wrecked.

Megumi blinks like he’s 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 Yuuji’s hands are dipping within the cups of your bra and you’re keening. And Megumi’s still in awe, still tracing the curves of your body, wondering how soft you must feel in Yuuji’s hands.

“You can touch her,” Yuuji suddenly says and his eyes are on Megumi’s face, the raw desire written there. And then, “here,” 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.

“I know,” Megumi mutters, even if he’s a little too mesmerized.

“You should really stop denying yourself, Fushiguro.” 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. Yuuji’s returning smile is dopey, a little love struck.

“C’mon,” Yuuji urges.

And Megumi finally dips forward, laying open mouthed kisses to your throat, to your chest. Down, lower, and then Yuuji’s moving one of his big hands out of the way, cupping beneath to let Megumi’s 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 Yuuji’s fingers. Warm against rough skin. Your head tips back onto Yuuji’s 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, too–

He pulls away from your tit to look up at you, at Yuuji’s face over your shoulder, desperately trying to watch. “Can I–” Megumi licks his lips, his voice raspy and soft, trying to gather his courage, “can I go down on you?”

Your answering moan is soft, a broken little cry. Yuuji’s curse is under his breath, pupils blown wide.

But then he says, “it’s about time,” and sits back, dragging you off of Megumi’s lap and into the cradle of his chest, between his legs, too. It’s almost comical, how quickly Yuuji’s got you laying back onto him, the wildly desperate look in his eyes.

If Megumi didn’t feel as desperate as Yuuji looks, he’d say something. Maybe he’d try to be smart.

But then Yuuji’s saying, “lift your hips for him.”

And just like the way they always work together, at each other’s 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.

“No fair,” 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 Megumi’s gaze.

“You’ve gotten this for months while I nearly died,” Megumi deadpans, but there’s breathlessness to his voice that doesn’t make it sound as biting, “that’s no fair.”

“You could’ve had it, too! You’re just stubborn!” Yuuji protests, reaching to flick at Megumi’s 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.

“‘Gumi–” you whimper, twisting your face to bury it in Yuuji’s 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, “this okay?”

“Yeah, ‘ts okay,” 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.

“She’s fine but you’re taking too long,” Yuuji huffs, hand traveling down the length of your body. He eases his fingers over your stomach, coming to rest in front of Megumi’s face–

Gently, Yuuji slides his fingers through your folds, parting you, letting Megumi look. You give an embarrassed whine of Yuuji’s name, but then Yuuji’s 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.

“C’mon, Fushiguro,” Yuuji murmurs, making more of a mess, slicking his fingers through you, making it obvious just how wet you are.

“M-move your fingers,” Megumi tells him, but there’s no bite to it, once more mesmerized with the way Yuuji is touching you, playing with you. There’s something about the way he touches you–he somehow makes it dirtier than it needs to be, messy and overeager.

Instead of doing as he’s told, Yuuji just eases your folds apart with two fingers again and Megumi doesn’t need to be told twice–

His head dips forward, nose nudging at you, tongue sliding out to kitten lick at you, tentative and slow. But once he’s got his first taste, he groans, shimmying closer, pulling you down a little towards the warm clutch of his mouth.

He’s 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 Yuuji’s fingers, getting bolder with every pass, making it slicker and wetter. Yuuji groans when they lock eyes, fingers twitching, moving over you, against Megumi’s tongue.

It’s a mess of fingers and spit and soft tongue and dewy folds. Megumi’s groaning softly, more than he realizes, right up against you. Yuuji presses his fingers into Megumi’s 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 Megumi’s hair, watching as Yuuji’s fingers come away from his lips spit slick, a string of it shining as it passes between them, before falling away.

“Spit for me,” 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 let’s a slow glob of spit fall from his kiss-stung lips to your clit, to Yuuji’s 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 Yuuji’s fingers work on you.

“Getting close, pretty girl?” Yuuji asks, nose nudging against your cheek, “gonna cum for him? All over his face?”

“Yeah–” you whine, hips desperately pushing towards his mouth, towards Yuuji’s fingers.

“Yeah,” Yuuji encourages, “yeah, c’mon–” and then his other hand tangles in the hair at the nape of Megumi’s 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, “Hey, watch–watch her.”

And he’s 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, doesn’t slow, lapping and sucking at you. At Yuuji’s fingers.

“Can you feel her?” Yuuji asks and Megumi’s 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 Megumi’s head, but he doesn’t slow.

“Hold her for me,” Megumi grunts and Yuuji’s 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, “I want one more.”

“I-I don’t–”

“You can give him one more, can’t you, baby?” Yuuji asks, squeezing at your thighs.

Whatever you’re 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 Yuuji’s tongue, the way you can hardly kiss back.

He doubles his efforts, feels you shake, thighs trembling in Yuuji’s hold. He feels like a man starved, feels like whatever desires he’d 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 Yuuji’s 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.

“C’mere,” Yuuji mutters, reaching for him, “kiss me.”

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. Yuuji’s 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 Megumi’s neck.

You’re already boneless and dazed, blinking away tears, when Yuuji says, “I hope you’re not tired already.” he nudges at your jaw to press sloppy kisses there, “because we’re just getting started.”

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 Yuuji’s chest and into his lap, his arms curling around your waist. “Are you okay?” he murmurs, his nose brushing against yours as he glances over you.

You nod, but you’ve got a dreamy look in your eyes now, half-lidded and warm as you gaze at him. It’s all love, soft as you reply, “‘m okay. You want to keep going?”

Now Megumi nods, swallowing hard, letting out a shaking breath, “yeah, I really want to keep going.”

“Then you should get your clothes off,” Yuuji pipes up, with his shirt already off, lost somewhere on the floor. He’s 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 Megumi’s shirt. You begin to pull it up, over his head, where his hair gets staticy and fluffy.

“Lay back,” you tell him, pressing sweet little kisses to his cheeks, his jawline.

He goes down easily, always, for you.

And then you’re 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 you’re on your knees in front of Yuuji.

“Can’t help it,” 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 Yuuji’s 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 he’s 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. He’s 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 who–

“Yuuji–” you gasp, lurching forward a little, trying to escape his touch, “let Megumi first.”

Megumi’s eyes fly to where Yuuji had been touching you, but now sees that he’d replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock. He can’t quite see still, but he can see the motion of Yuuji’s hips, the way he must nudging against you, slipping through your folds–

Megumi’s 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 he’s watching his cock rub against you.

“C’mon, I was patient,” 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, “no–’Gumi first.” And then you’re shifting so you’re out of his hold, scrambling to settle yourself back into Megumi’s lap.

His groan is bitten off, feeling you like this, hot and slick against him.

Yuuji’s 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 “fine, fine–”

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, “but you both owe me.”

Megumi’s 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.

Yuuji’s 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 it’s 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.

Megumi’s hips buck up, the head of his cock catching on your center–

You moan and the noise Megumi makes almost sounds like a broken growl, his control thinly leashed.

“Condom?” he gets out, just barely keeping himself sane, barely keeping himself from pushing into you.

Yuuji’s snicker is done into the curve of your neck, cheeks flushed, nipping at the skin there.

“Don’t n-need one,” you shudder, lifting your hips a little, reaching down finally to take hold of Megumi’s cock, to line him up to where you’re aching. Megumi is careful to hold perfectly still, to let you do it, to set your own pace–

Yuuji’s hands flex on your waist, though, before he suddenly pulls you down all in one go onto Megumi’s aching cock.

Both of your mouths fall open, hands clutching for each other, as pleasure floods hot and warm inside of Megumi. You’re velvety warm and tight– so tight and–

Your cry is higher pitched, almost a wail. Megumi’s is something from deep within his chest, fingers digging into your thighs, creeping up against Yuuji’s, too.

“There,” Yuuji murmurs, lifting your hips only to drop them again, playing around with setting the tempo, watching Megumi’s face twist up into pleasure, watching the way you throw your head back and gasp. “How’s that feel? You like being full, don’t you?” Yuuji urges you a little faster, eyes alight and hungry.

“Yeah—so deep” you gasp, shifting one of your hands to cover Yuuji’s, fitting it along your own body, the other laying flat against Megumi’s stomach for support. “You feel so good,” 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 Yuuji’s hold, but he’s just so strong–

“Fuck,” Megumi hisses, his own hips flexing upwards–

(You make the cutest, “ah!” sound when he does that.)

“Itadori, let go of her.” Megumi grounds out, his grip on your thighs turning painful.

“I don’t know,” Yuuji says, watching the two of you with a spark in his eyes, all boyishly handsome mischief, all trouble, like he’s just discovered a secret, “I kinda like watching you both squirm.”

“Itadori–” Megumi growls.

“I like when you say my name like that,” he says pleasantly, just before Megumi lurches into sitting up straight. He grabs Yuuji’s jaw tight, squeezes so his lips part and pucker a little. Yuuji’s pupils blow wide and dark. He shifts against your back, squirming in Megumi’s hold. Yuuji’s eyes gloss over with desire, raw and unfiltered before he gives in, uncharacteristically softened, “alright, alright–”

Yuuji lets you go, holding his hands up in defeat, in submission.

Both you and Megumi move at once, desperately, clinging to each other. Yuuji’s 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.

“She feels so good, doesn't she?” Yuuji asks, eyes still glued to where your bodies are connected, “so wet and tight and hot—“ it’s like he’s imagining you himself now, “I lose my mind whenever I’m inside her.”

Yuuji starts helping lift your hips again when he notices your thighs trembling, “and she’s wanted you so bad—should’ve heard her the other night, made her say your name when she touched herself.”

Megumi’s brain goes perfectly blank for a minute, fingers spasming around your soft skin, eyes suddenly dazed at the thought.

“You said his name, too,” you whimper back, tucking your face into Megumi’s shoulder, crying a little when he bucks up into you sharply. “Ah– fuck, Megumi–”

A breathless laugh bursts from Yuuji, “yeah, just like that– do you want him to come inside you?”

Megumi groans, feeling half out of his mind, stomach flipping, cock throbbing desperately inside of you, “Itadori–shut up. Shut up or I’m going to–”

“Ah, please, please–’m close again.” You gasp, clawing at Megumi’s shoulders.

“Just–hold on–”

Yuuji’s 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, can’t watch or he’ll–

“There, that’s it,” 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.

You’re trembling so bad, but Megumi can’t help himself.

“Fuck,” he spits out, then begins babbling as he thrusts up into you, “you feel so good, f-feel so fucking good–wanted this for so long–”

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 Megumi’s shoulders, falling slack. But Megumi buries his face in the crux of your neck, “Okay?” he asks softly, nudging gently at you, hands beginning to move soothingly over you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, a little dreamy, a little in awe, “really okay.”

He catches Yuuji’s eye over your shoulder and for some reason, as if compelled, he tips his head up, offers himself to him, let’s Yuuji kiss him again. Not as rough, his nose nudging into Megumi’s cheek, but still with a needy edge to it, the soft pink of his tongue licking into Megumi’s mouth eagerly.

“I know you’re both exhausted,” Yuuji mumbles against his lips, “but ‘m still really hard.”

Megumi’s cock gives a twitch inside of you and your sleepy eyes flutter open.

“Lay her down,” 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.

Yuuji’s beside him now, watching with bright eyes as cum spills slow and thick from where you’re 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 out–

You try to squirm away from him, voice pitched and squeaky when you try and protest, “Yuuji, that’s–” 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. Megumi’s interest is piqued seeing you so wrecked, but a greater part of him is still tentative and protective, new to all of this.

“I-Itadori, leave her alone,” he rasps, pulling at Yuuji’s muscled shoulder, gripping a little tighter when he doesn’t 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 him–

He kisses him again, chest heaving, hands greedy and seeking, reaching down to grasp at Yuuji’s cock. It’s thick and heavy in his hand, making his stomach dip in excitement.

He feels Yuuji’s 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 watch–

(He likes to watch, Megumi realizes with a start, likes to watch everything happen.)

Megumi looks down, too, nudging Yuuji’s head with his own, before he let’s spit gather behind his lips. He opens his mouth a little, let’s it fall and drip down onto the mauve tip of Yuuji’s cock. He gathers it in his palm, then uses it on the next pump, slicking him up.

Yuuji groans loud and shamelessly.

“‘M not gonna last–I swear I usually last longer than this,” Yuuji pushes his face into the crook of Megumi’s neck, hands gripping him tightly, desperately.

Megumi would say something smart, maybe, if he wasn’t so busy watching his hand move over Yuuji, watching Yuuji fuck into his fist almost feverishly.

He glances at you, notices the way you’ve perked up, propped yourself up onto your elbows to watch them with a dazed look on your face. It’s so raw, so filled with lust and affection and love.

“Fuck, fuck–” Yuuji gasps and Megumi feels his cock spasm, feels it jerk in his hold before his hands grow sticky and warm, his stomach, Yuuji’s stomach, too.

Yuuji slumps against him then and Megumi can’t help but do the same. With his clean hand, he runs it up Yuuji’s 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 he’s going to get a rag.

It’s 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 Megumi’s hands, forcing Megumi to lay back to wipe at his stomach in delicate swipes, too. And then you, even gentler somehow with where you’re no doubt sore and tender.

The moment you’re clean enough, you curl into Yuuji’s chest and he gathers you into his arms. It looks so natural, the way you hold each other. Endearment races through Megumi.

“Sorry we neglected you,” you murmur into Yuuji’s 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.

“I like watching,” Yuuji says happily, kissing at your forehead, hooking his leg over yours, over Megumi’s, too. “Besides, we’ve got all night. And all morning. All of tomorrow, too, really–”

You share a glance over your shoulder with Megumi.

“Do you plan on keeping us in your bed that long?” You ask, burrowing back down into their arms.

“Kinda,” Yuuji smiles all crooked and boyish, “there’s just so much I want to try.”

“Guess it’s gonna be a long night, ‘gumi.” You say and though Megumi can’t quite see it, he can hear the smile in your voice.

“All nighter?” Yuuji asks with a wiggle of his brows.

“All nighter?” Megumi finally speaks up, shocked.

“No, Megumi gets grouchy if he doesn’t get a lot of sleep.” You say cheekily.

Megumi pinches at your side. You yelp, before it blossoms into the sweetest laugh. Megumi can’t help but melt with it, softening the way Yuuji does at the sound.

“I don’t get grouchy,” 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. He’s going to be sore, knows you probably won’t be able to walk well tomorrow. Yuuji’s got a bite mark so deep he wonders if he should put a bandaid over it.

But it’s all love, pressed into each other, sewed along the scars and the crooks of bodies.

It’s 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.

***

It’s too hot to be lugging boxes heavier than him up an impossible flight of stairs.

“Itadori, hurry up!” Nobara snaps, clinging desperately to a box that is rapidly slipping from her grip.

“Do you want me to drop this box?” Yuuji snaps back, taking another painstakingly slow step up the stairs with a box that is certainly heavier and broader than Yuuji by far. It’s a miracle he hasn’t slipped back down the stairs or dropped it.

“Well, I’m gonna drop this one if you don’t move!”

Megumi comes around to help Nobara with the box in her hands, setting the smaller one he’d been carrying down on the landing below them. He’ll come back for it. Right before the box can slip from Nobara’s hands, he’s got the other side of it, helping her lift it.

“Fushiguro, tell your boyfriend to hurry up.”

“Itadori, hurry up.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re supposed to be on my side!”

There’s 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 won’t complain. They set the box down on top of the bigger one and Megumi eyes the next flight of stairs.

“Did you and Maki have to be on the fifth floor?” 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.

“C’mon, guys, one more flight.” 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.

It’s 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 that’s been pushed into the apartment but not placed correctly.

It’s a mess and there’s still plenty more to do.

But Megumi thinks they can leave the rest up to Maki and Nobara. It’s 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.

“This place is nice,” Yuuji comments, “better than the dorms.” Yuuji throws his hand out towards you and Megumi, “we should get the apartment right next door!”

“No,” Nobara and Maki say in unison.

“Now you guys are just being mean!”

Your snicker is cute, felt against Megumi’s shoulder. You reach out towards Yuuji’s 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.

“Can we order takeout?” Yuuji asks the group, pulling at your hand a little more.

“After you move our couch to where we want it,” Maki tells him.

“Why do I have to?” Yuuji whines.

“Because you’ve got that freak strength.” Nobara replies.

Yuuji huffs, “‘m tired.”

You finally heave yourself up, “c’mon, Yuu, we’ll help you.” You’re still holding onto his hand and now give it a little tug to urge him up.

“We’ll?” 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.

“Yeah, get up, then we can order food.” You say and Megumi, without even thinking, takes your hand in his. You pull him up, too.

Yuuji doesn’t 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 won’t eat to Yuuji and you, who take them without a word. It’s painfully natural. Small rituals that he’s already become used to.

And at the end of the night, he heads home with you and Yuuji. You’re 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.

He’s 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 Yuuji’s soft hair.

“Love you,” you mumble, first to Megumi, to the heartbeat at his throat, and then, “love you, Yuuji.”

“Love you, too,” Yuuji slurs, eyes already heavy, lashes fluttering to fall shut peacefully, “you too, Fushiguro.”

Your breathing evens out, breaths soft against his skin.

Megumi feels his own heart soothe and gentle, tempo slowing for easy sleep. He let’s 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;

“I love you, too.”

And finally, there’s nothing else left to say.

811 notes · View notes

gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

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NEVER REALLY OVER — gojo x reader

summary: gojo satoru a womanizer, casanova, playboy— call him whatever you want for breaking and playing with women's heart but what if the the first and only woman who broke his heart showed up years after with a little kid that's a spitting image of him, what would he do now?

tags: romance, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, explicit sexual content, fuck buddies, toxic relationships, commitment issues, use of obscene language, pining, mutual pining, co-parenting au, dad!gojo (dilf mehehe), college au, modern au, 18+

status: on-going

[ series masterlist ]

never really over 01

never really over 02

never really over 03

never really over 04

never really over 05

(not the final chapter count.)

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

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🡦 minazuki mini series (on-going) 🡦 F!reader x gojo satoru

genre. angst, action, mystery, romance, smut, enemies-to-lovers, very slow burn, arranged-marriage au (tokyo metropolitan arc to s1; canon compliant-ish).

description. In which Y/N L/N is placed under a union she has no choice but to partake for the sake of her survival.

series warnings. very heavy manga spoilers, sexual themes/smut, violence, blood, heavy objectification of women, mentions of rape, harassment, heavy themes on misogyny, child abuse, heavy degradation (and not in a kinky way), mentions of bride-market, breeding talks, compliance to abuse/harrasement, false constructs on virginity updates. once-twice a week (ch0 is reedited for viewing pleasure!)

Playlist + taglist is closed + main jjk masterlist + fanart

00. the twelve key moments 1 .the new years. 2 . zen’in 3. the lost servant 4. anniversary 5. stray cat .6 . 7. 8. 9 .10 .11.12.13.14.epilogue

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

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.(not) falling for you - gojo satoru

.pairings gojo satoru x fem!reader

.genre unrequited love [a]

.ongoing | completed

.tw mentions of violence, blood, and death, also contains manga spoilers

.wc; 3.6k

.SUMMARY

gojo was a perfect guy, in every way possible, and had everything he wanted except you.

satoru gojo. the notorious playboy. well known for his good looks and extraordinary skills. not only was he blessed with these beautiful looks, he holds the most cursed energy known within the jujutsu society, and has inherited two of the most powerful techniques known to sorcerer: limitless, and infinity. alongside carrying these techniques, he's become a holder of the six eyes after four hundred years.

his immense strength brought envy and admiration from those around him, leaving him to be lucky to be born with such wealth and adoration growing up. all those around him had given him such extreme names, like “the king of sorcerers”, or the new “god” of jujutsu society, but neither of those names nor the others had fed so much into his complex as much as the one you gave him. “the strongest.”

the two of you met in high school, having been put together for a mission with his best friends, suguru getou and shoko ieiri, and immediately clicked, what with your indistinguishable personalities. everyone thought the both of you were extremely compatible, your personalities fitting perfectly with one another. during the days that you felt sick, he was sick too, on the days he felt like he was over the moon, you were on an emotional equilibrium to him. people said you were telepathically connected, or soulmates, meant to be and whatnot. the two of you were were an ultimate pair, made for one another.

so why didn't you love him? why did you not feel the same way he did about you? why did you not get butterflies in your stomach he did so little as breathe? why was his world turned upside down when you did so much as wave a hello in his direction, but the atmosphere of yours stayed the same, when he would hug you. was it the fact that he was too tall? annoying? similar to you? or was it that he wasn't suguru?

was it the fact that he didn't have the same dark locks as him, or the bland expression he kept on his face at all times, or maybe it was because when he smiled, your heart would do flips. satoru loved his best friend, truly, he did, but suguru's existence stopped you from falling for him and conforming to everyone's dreams of the elegant tsukumo family and the legendary gojo family conjoining (and possibly even his dreams of marrying you and having a future together.).

he had it all, the money, looks, love, and the skill, but none of it would amount to anything until you would fall for him. and every day got harder for him as he watched you and getou lay in each other's arms after each mission, feeling like you had grabbed his guts and twisted them inside his body, laughing, with suguru by your side.

so the day that you found out suguru had massacred the village, and ran away, you fell apart, with gojo by your side as a pillar. as selfish as it was, he thought it was his only chance to get you to fall for him. he'd visit you every day, checking up on your condition, and brought you whatever you pleased, like a servant to their master.

for years he's pined after you, but not once have you noticed even a crumb of his overwhelming fondness for even the shortest breaths you took, even if you did, it seemed as though you had brushed him off, with an inability to move on from your high school sweetheart that had long gone years before. his patience was wearing thin and he began to get bolder during the times you were together, who wouldn't? after all, he's loved you since the day you met.

becoming teachers together at jujutsu tech had plastered a smile on his face to last a lifetime. to be able to see you every day for several hours, to be able to see you smile around the students, to be able to see you be, well you, would be enough to make him happy. he had practically begged yaga and principal gakuganji to let you teach the first years with him, despite being assigned with the second years and the higher ups.

you were a meticulous colleague, punctual, polite, respectful, and kept a good reputation within the school, gaining acclamation from the students, and other teachers. but despite this calm exterior, you were an enjoyable person to be around, with a bubbly personality and an outgoing demeanour, knowing just what to say in moments of need. you were perfect for him.

with the two of you having a playful relationship, it was easy for him to openly display his affection for you, without you tossing him to the side as if he made you uncomfortable. nevertheless, you only thought of satoru as a good friend, and couldn't see anything further happening with him. there were several instances where you had tried to imagine a romantic relationship with him, but it had never felt right. despite his breathtaking appearance, it could never proportion to the same measurement of flourishing love you carried for suguru.

suguru getou, well known to everyone as the trustworthy best friend of satoru gojo, the good ol' sidekick, but to you he was the sun in which you, the earth, orbited around. everything about him, it all fit like puzzle pieces into your life, he sat snug in the center of your heart like a masterpiece on display. it was well known that you had loved him so dearly, and would risk yourself at the chance of saving him. but it was also known that you could kill for him any chance he asked you to. the days without him began to lead your thoughts to an unfathomable future of dying alone in your bed, with his clothes in your arms as proof of his impact in your life and how he had left it.

the nights felt longer and the days almost became a chore, life became harder to live, with only so much strength alive you could die. gojo noticed. your smile would rot away as soon as it existed, crossed off onto the list which recorded the rest of your fake smiles. he noticed how you slowly lost enthusiasm within your passions, and it broke him to do nothing but watch you ruin yourself.

it was all getou's fault, everything went wrong because of him. if getou had never existed, then maybe it would be him holding you in his arms as you slept through the night, maybe it would've be him whispering sweet nothings as you did your homework in the study hall at lunch, maybe it would've been him that you cried over for almost a decade. but alas, life doesn't bend the way we choose it to. but god, gojo could never wish for the banishing of his best friend's existence like that, not when he knew that getou's disappearance had damaged him too.

he's suffered too, gojo carried his own weights of grief after getou's disappearance. he too, felt as though there was a hole in his heart, an empty void, which no one could fulfill the same way getou could. after all, they were best friends. losing someone precious to you can do more than just a few months of grief. it can mend relationships, break them, form them, or bloom them. so an endeavour on winning your heart and blooming a relationship, gojo did.

succeed he didn't. you rejected him in a cold manner, much to his dismay, and avoided his presence or the mention of his name for several days.

“no. i just don't see you like that, and i'm still in love with him.” even the mention of his name would tug at your heartstrings, so the substitute of 'him' was used more comfortably between the two of you.

you shoved past him, going to your next mission, telling him that the two of you were going to be late, wearing an expression he couldn't analyse in the same way he saw the others. and it didn't sit right with him.

“y/n wait-” he turned around and he was too late, you were already off to your mission, and turning the corner.

the sight was horrific, kyoto looked as if it was going to fall apart. what kind of curse was this? you stared in fear, afraid of what you'd find if you ventured further into the city, on your way to look for nobara, megumi and yuuji. before taking another step forward, a familiar warmth wrapped around your wrist and you turn around, facing satoru.

“hey uh, i know these past few days have been a little weird, but you're still one of my bestest friends, i just want you to be safe out there, okay? please?” his eyes trembling as his lips mustered up a smile in, hopes of reassuring you.

“i know satoru, and thank you, i will be safe. how about after this we go get some drinks, this is gonna be a long mission.” you smiled back, bringing a light back into his life.

you trekked through the city, on your way to find the three young students, practically trembling in the case that they may have possibly died. but that couldn't happen, no they were far too strong, with so much potential, especially for their age. as you progressed on your way, the more dilapidated the state of the department store looked, windows shattered, mannequins melted, and fire alarms flashing. there was so much going on, you almost felt dizzy, but the students were a bigger priority and it would be on you if they were dead or missing.

on the other side of the store, gojo did his own searching, but not for the students, rather the cursed spirit who was roaming free in the building. he worried for you safety, and prayed that it hadn't found you before he could. the scent of smoke and the fumes of the fire wafter around gojo and a foggy atmosphere built up around him, causing his guard to heighten as well as his senses. he needed to protect everyone. he needed to protect you.

a familar body flew- no, was thrown through one of the shopping windows, and you dashed towards them, noticing the mess of black hair, belonging to the first year, megumi fushiguro.

“fushiguro!” you picked up his limp figure, shaking him awake, and placed your index finger beneath his nostrils, checking for any signs of life, and let out a sigh of relief when the hairs on your fingers were tickled by a warm breath of air.

“i-itadori, and kugisaki, they're hurt-” he sputtered, coughing out blood.

“but so are you, come on, get on my back, i'll find them.” you slung him on your back, and slowly attempted to stand up as you made your way to find the other teenagers.

only to be met with an unghastly sight. the cursed spirit was so strong, it could've been mistaken for a special grade. it wasn't. it wasn't even a cursed spirit. it was the love of your life, the man of your dreams, suguru getou. you almost let the boy slip off of your arms, before you gently placed him down in a safe area, where he was refrained from further injury.

“s-suguru?” your heart skipped, no drove at a speed over a thousand miles an minute. he looked so different, so mature, he didn't look like, suguru.

“ah, y/n dear, hello it's been a while.” he smiled devilishly, and the man before you became unfamiliar, even from the way he held himself up, he seemed like a completely different person, what happened?

“what are you doing here?” you choked up, your eyesight was becomjng blurry, blinded by the tears building up onto your face.

��what do you think? to save kyoto? good gracious, no,” his smirk pulled up even further, yet it intimidated you with each passing second. who was this man before you, and what had he done to suguru?

your mind flashed back to the memories of going to tokyo jujutsu with gojo, getou, and shoko. and your heart ached with greed, oh, how you begged just to go back in time and re-live those memories, experiencing the same tingly feeling when you learned about being a sorceror, or maybe the palpitations in your heart after you finished a mission, filled with relief, knowing you had survived. and how you wished to stand by suguru's side again, as you had done so all those years ago.

but you couldn't. and you can't.

you're older now, much more mature, and despite it taking years and years of grief and denial, you had finally learned to detach yourself from the gut wrenching memories you had kept buried in the back of your mind like a sin. you had finally realised everyone grows different as time passes by, and not everything was a constant, so as suguru stepped closer to your figure, with his cursed energy practically leaking from his aura, you straightened your back and finally got into position.

“i'm going to stop you before you even try to make things worse.” you condensed your energy into your core, feeling your technique build up inside your body as your senses grew and your guard heightened. you had to protect the kids.

“i'd like to see you try, my love.”

meanwhile gojo was still searching the store, unaware of the fact that you had already discovered the "cursed spirit" and the first years. his mind wandered to the most inexplainable places, distracting himself from the possibilities that you may be injured.

"my, my, if it isn't the one and only, gojo satoru," his ears perked up, listening to the devious tone behind him; mahito. “we've been looking for you.”

“we?” a mundane expression carved across his face and his lips brought up to a disgusted chagrin.

"you could at least have a little bit more enthusiasm, goodness, i should've taken the girl." a bitter chuckle taunts gojo, feeling some sort of tension grow as mahito brings up the "girl".

"what girl?"

"it's a shame, you know, because i really didn't want to go up against you today, but no, getou had to get the girl, don't you think he's greedy-" gojo charged himself towards mahito, finding a method to touch his soul and eventually subdue him, in order to find getou.

he was alive? what was he going to do if you found out? would you go back to him? where are you right now?

he made haste and explored around the labyrinth of a building, just to find the familiar pink mop of hair, laying tiredly a little further away from a girl with a brown bob cut.

"yuji, nobara!" the relief in his tone was evident, and he crouched down to check on his students, just to see them barely breathing. "where's megumi?"

"sensei, y/n sensei." nobara choked out, struggling to form a coherent phrase, and mobilised enough strength to point a finger in the direction she presumed you and megumi were in. "there's, there's a man, with black long hair, in jujutsu uniform."

gojo's heart fell to his stomach. you were reunited, in one of the worst ways possible at that. you probably ran into his arms like a teenage girl again, and he probably reciprocated that action and held you tight in his arms, like he never left.

oh how he wished he saw that instead.

upon his arrival, everything was in shambles, even moreso than before. he darted his eyes with vigilance and thought time had stopped.

there you laid, bloodied and battered, almost unidentifiable. you could be labelled dead by default, with your hair disheveled and your face bruised with crimson and mauve. broken bones were visible on your figure, with your arms shattered and positioned in one of the most uncomfortable poses. and he hated that. his heart burned, and his chest tightened, feeling as if his ribcage had slowly began crushing his organs, hindering his aptness to inhale. gojo was used to having his breath taken away by you, but never in this lifetime did he expect for getou to take your last. but where did he even go?

it was as if his mission was to kill you and take a run for it, but for what reason? the two of you loved, no, yearned for one another's presence and could probably tell the time of the day just by looking into each other's eyes. you were the ones that were connected, soulmates, meant to be, or whatever it was. so why did getou revoke from his words to love you eternally, just as you had done so all those years ago. maybe that was why. it was so many years ago.

"gojo sensei?" a small croak echoed in the sombre building, and he turned his head around so swiftly, he felt that his neck would break.

"megumi." he finally helped the boy up, who was still in the same area that you had put him down in, before laying your life down for the one that you loved.

"she, she's still breathing, i saw her."

that little glint of hope, that short sentence. it was more than sufficient to get gojo coming your way, to place your slack body upon his thighs. for once, the one and only satoru gojo, had cried. he carefully removed the strands of hair covering your face, ever so gently, and looked at your wheezing state.

"satoru, i'm so, so, sorry," you whispered out, only because your blood began to ooze on gojo's uniform, and had nothing but incompetence to try and clean it away with your shattered arms. "i'm getting blood all over you, aren't i?" he nods weakly, with his lips trembling and eyes glistening, which was unknown to your knowledge, as he kept the blindfold on, thinking it could mask his emotions better.

"you're gonna be okay. i know you will, you're tsukumo y/n of the tsukumo family. you guys are invincible!" hysterical was one word to describe gojo, but of course it was an understatement, because the first and foremost thing he could focus on, was the fact that you were bleeding out into his arms.

"i'm not you, stop saying that, just hold me for a bit, okay?" a toothy, bloody but toothy, grin displayed upon your face, and a hum of approval emitted from gojo's lips.

megumi could do so much as watch, as his teacher was fading away from his current life, and how his caretaker was a trainwreck, watching her slip right through his fingers.

"satoru," he sniffled one last time before nodding. "can you take your blindfold off? i want to see your pretty eyes." if you couldn't hear it then, you could hear it now; gojou's sobs grew decibels louder within each second, and his heart almost cracked inside of his body.

"y-yeah." he slips off the black fabric, and meets your eyes with his cerulean ones. maybe it was the flashing lights in the store that made you crazy, but gojo had looked exceptionally beautiful today, despite the development that was made.

"...that's good. you look wonderful, satoru." all of the strength that you had hoarded within yourself, had finally vanished, and your body fell limp in his embrace.

"y/n? y/n? are you there? hey, you're fine, stop doing that. it's not a good joke, you can do this later, just wake up please." he was in a mental dysfunction and thought that if he shook you conscious, you would open your eyes from your eternal slumber.

"sensei, stop. she won't wake up." megumi whinged as he got closer to the pair. "get up, we need to find the others, before they get hurt too."

megumi's words were like white noise to gojo, and he disregarded them completely as he tried to wake up the corpse in his clutches. something was amiss, you couldn't be dead, he refused it, there was no way you would die by the hands of your own lover. yet knowing you, it was salient that you would rather to lose your life to someone you loved than to an abhorrent monster that would come to take innocent lives away.

"please, just let me try and wake her up, i know she's awake, just...please." his words died away after realising the unusual lack of response from you. the roguish expression that masked gojo's intentions was soon expunged from existence, the very moment he comprehended your passing. "al-alright megumi, let's go find the others."

it was impossible to leave you behind, so they didn't itadori and kugisaki gasped as gojo carried your deceased state. megumi trailed alongside him, helping his two friends up, before telling them to not ask questions so to respect gojo's wishes of not having to acknowledge your death.

four people, and one soul had left that building that day, and gojo had vowed to never step in it as soon at it refurbished. visits to your grave were frequent, and the headstone was cleaned weekly, so gojo could read out your name, thinking it would speak you back into existence. nevertheless, you never turned up, only to leave him in an awkward presence with the wind blowing around him and the trees whistling to maybe soothe his excruciating injury.

satoru gojo. the notorious playboy. well known for his good looks and extraordinary skills. blessed with wealth and happiness all around him. he came into your world as a goofy pole of a man, with the attitude of a sassy child, and you left his as the woman who reached out for his heart, and crushed it with your bare hands.

a/n: i'm so sorry for putting this off for so long i hope this is okay but the ending was kinda rushed ://

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

Text

Cantor’s Paradox

Gojo Satoru x reader

r18

word count: 3,500

[mentions of canon-typical violence, explicit content, math]

How do you make a god who isn’t a despot? Give him a lover and make them mortal.

Human, he calls you. Like he’s not, like the word is something funny to him. You’re so very human.

What’s that supposed to mean, you return.

Nothing, in particular. Only that he can’t believe it. Only that this would be easier if you weren’t.

Keep reading

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

Text

sincerely not.

↳ gojou satoru x f!reader

— series masterlist

summary. with an arranged marriage set in place, the sacred bond is doomed with a wife who wants to make the relationship work and a husband who’s ready to ruin it all. unknown to him, a tragic fate already lies within the pages of your romance book.

genre. heavy angst, arranged marriage, modern au, 18+

general masterlist + fanart

+ one + two + three + four + five + six + seven + eight + nine + ten +

status: on going

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

Text

i hate you, i love you. (2)

↳ gojou satoru/reader (feat. sukuna ryomen)

2/2 — stuck in a loop of frat parties and constant hookups, gojou finds a way to make you come into terms with your feelings by breaking both of your hearts along the way

genre. angst, hurt/comfort, smut, fwb, college au, 18+

tags/warnings. fratboy!gojou, baddie!reader, profanity, alcohol/intoxication, smoking, usage of drugs, explicit smut, exhibitionism, public sex

notes. this is sooo long bye i enjoyed writing this 2-part fic and i hope u guys liked it <3 reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you everyone :D

previous <- masterlist

“Do you and Gojou have beef or something?”

It was for the first time throughout that afternoon when Shoko finally spoke her mind. She spent the past hour sleeping with her head on the table while you were typing on your laptop to finish your papers. Determined not to be disturbed as you worked on your final requirements, you only responded to her once you finally hit the word count. So much for being a great student.

“I don’t know,” you trailed off, grabbing the cup to take a sip from your coffee. The café was redolent with the sweet aroma of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans, providing a homey atmosphere for all the students to bask in. “I haven’t seen him in two weeks.”

Two weeks you have not spoken to him either. He didn’t contact you to come over like he usually did nor did he visit you in your dorms to take in the pleasure of your habitual setup. The last time you talked to him was when you rejected his offer to be in a labeled relationship and he later told you that he would date Mackenzie out of spite. You weren’t quite certain if he was being serious with his words but the guy never once contacted you again since that day. It also seemed as if he was purposely avoiding you. You guessed that his last comment translated to just two words: fuck off.

So this was the end, you reckoned, of yours and Satoru’s beneficial friendship.

“I knew it.” Shoko straightened her back, yawning as she stretched her arms. She alternated between looking at her phone and then to you. “I asked him to come here and he said he didn’t wanna go if I was with you. What happened?”

You rolled your eyes as a reaction to his immaturity. He was for sure acting like a big jerk about this. “Guess we’re not fuck buddies anymore.”

There was a gleam of amusement in Shoko’s eyes. “Really? That’s new,” she claimed, “he’s pretty tight-lipped about you whenever I asked.”

Of course he would be. Satoru Gojou would never proudly tell anyone that he got rejected by someone like you. Although he brought this upon himself when he put you on the spot while knowing full well how you felt about commitments and relationships. You didn’t even know if he was ready to get involved in such an intimate connection with anyone when he could barely get his feelings together. He acted on impulse most of the time and he was the one claiming that you were nothing but a late-night booty call.

You hardly even forgave him for the insults that he threw on you that night when he invited Brooke. He was trouble and you wanted to stay away from it until he actually learned to get his shit together.

“Oh, well. I’m sure you two will just run back to each other. You’re like peas in a pod,” Shoko added without any scintilla of doubt in her tone.

Perhaps she was right, maybe she was wrong. You had no idea about what was running inside Satoru’s head but when you returned to your dorm that night, you found the man of honorable mention lazily sitting on top of your bed while playing with his phone to cover his ennui.

“What are you doing here?” you questioned, placing your laptop and notepad on your bedside table.

Like a stubborn kid, he barely looked at you with his eyes still glued on his phone. The fluttering of his arctic lashes were slow and impassive. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he simply replied, deadpan tone and all. “I’m not here for you.”

You crossed your arms, face contorting in confusion. “You’re literally sitting on my bed—”

“Hey, my bad it took me long to get ready.” Mackenzie’s sweet voice cut you off as she came back from the communal bathroom. Dressed in a casual floral dress and light blue cardigan, she looked like she was preparing for a date night. “Baby, let’s go?”

What the hell?

Satoru’s diamond eyes coruscated at the sight of her before he got up and walked past you. At once, he embraced Kenzie in his arms and pecked her lips the same way he often did to you. “You look pretty, baby.”

If it wasn’t obvious enough, you were visibly taken aback like a deer caught in headlights more so because of the confusion bubbling in your head. Not only did you not expect that he would stick to his words, you also didn’t think that they would be dating straight away. For the past year, Satoru was very clear about his distaste about being tied down, so what in God’s name was he pulling now?

He dashed out of the room telling Kenzie that he would wait for her while the ‘girlfriend’ shot you an excited look, immediately gushing about their relationship. “Sorry I didn’t get to tell you sooner,” she said, joy emanating beautifully on her small face. “We just started talking and then he asked me out. Can you believe it?”

You put on a mask of genuine happiness. “I’m excited for you.” Glancing at Satoru who stood by the door waiting for his girlfriend, you gave Kenzie a whispered piece of advice. “Just be careful of him, Kenz.”

You: If you’re just playing with her heart, don’t fucking do it.

You: Kenzie is a nice girl. Don’t you dare use her just to spite me. Asshole.

Your texts were left unanswered when you briefly scrolled through your old exchange of messages with Satoru. Another week has passed since you sent him that text on one drunken night when you got the confidence to actually hit the send button, but you were ignored by the guy even when he has clearly read your messages.

It wasn’t like you were moping about his relationship. You could care less, or so you think. It shouldn’t matter if he was dating Mackenzie but you just didn’t approve the idea that the root of this was to make you jealous. He always did things to rile you up and it irked the hell out of you. Now you felt responsible for the impending sleepless nights and heartbreaks that you were about to give Mackenzie once she realized that she was being used.

Out of all the girls that went after him, why did he have to choose your roommate? If this wasn’t the most ridiculous act of revenge ever, then you didn’t know what else would be.

Fuck Satoru. You despised how he could ruin your day even when you couldn’t see him. There was a live football match in front of you but you didn’t even have much focus to figure out what was happening in the game.

“Damn, he’s good,” Getou praised from beside you, gaping at the large screen where they showed Sukuna in football gear being crowded by his teammates after they delivered a touchdown.

In contrast to Getou’s flattery, Shoko displayed a moue. “Yeah, if only he wasn’t such a horse dick to Y/N.”

A cacophony of deafening cheers broke out from the crowd. You could hear girls screaming for Sukuna’s name whenever he showed up on the screen and you refrained yourself from making a face. They had zero idea how much toxicity ran through that man’s veins.

“Let’s say he changed,” Suguru proposed the idea amidst the hubbub of enthusiastic screams, “would you get back with him?”

Absolutely not. You were shaking your head without even a second since he asked. “Sukuna is a nightmare.”

The game continued while your mind gained its wings to fly off somewhere else. What were Satoru and Mackenzie up to? Were they somewhere in the bleachers to watch the game, too? Were they fucking each other back in the dorms? You were aware of Kenzie’s lack of experience when it came to men and Satoru must love the fact that he was a potential candidate at taking her v-card.

You succumbed yourself to the sadistic images of Satoru and Kenzie having the time of their lives together. It had you so bent up that your frown never left your face even as you spent your night at Alpha Zeta Phi after the game. The biggest afterparty based on hearsay, and while it really was indeed jam-packed, your heart was unknowingly looking for another guy among the red cups and neon lights.

“Where have you been?” The question was thrown at you by Shoko as soon as you came back from the kitchen. Having taken a couple of shots, you were stumbling to your feet as you sat giggling on the couch beside her.

“Y/N’s fucking here, bitches,” you mindlessly slurred, slumping on the small space made available for you. You laughed as you exchanged fist bumps with your friends before resting your back on the cushion.

And there, across your seat, was Satoru and his girlfriend sitting on his lap barely noticing your arrival. They were exchanging flirty smiles and feathered kisses, his hand securely wrapped around her small waist, not caring about everyone else in the party except each other. It was strange enough to see Mackenzie at a party, but seeing her getting all mushy with your former fuck buddy was another slap to your face.

If only you could hold your heart in your hands and squeeze it yourself so the pain would be more bearable.

“Oh, hey!” your roommate endearingly greeted when she finally acknowledged you. “We were just waiting for you.”

She was sounding like she was a regular at frat parties when this had always been your scene before her stupid boyfriend brought her along.

Satoru briefly met your eyes as he drank from his red cup, his stare on you was not lingering the way it used to because all of his attention were now dedicated to Mackenzie. How ironic was that? They’re so cute together, you heard people coo. You would have thought the same had you not felt a burning ache on your chest.

“I’m here now,” you announced, whirling your head to the rest of the gang. “What game are we playing?”

When Spencer raised a card between his fingers, you already got the answer you needed. Suck and blow. You thought they would ask to play Never I Have I Ever just like last time but you have gotten too tired of playing that game. What hesitated you to play this new one was because you were seated at the edge of the couch and Satoru was the next guy to your left.

“Let’s start!” Ieri cheered, snapping her fingers simultaneous to the beat of the booming music. The purple neon lights momentarily blurred your vision before you shook the intoxication out of your system. You shouldn’t have drunk too much tequila.

To begin the game, Spencer pressed the card on his pursed lips, passing it to Cassie on his left who formed a suction with her mouth to keep the card in place. The card was nearly slipping from her lips much to everyone’s thrilled faces, all anticipating her to pass it successfully to Getou’s mouth.

Well, the card slipped and they ended up kissing.

“Drink!” you commanded with a grin. In accordance to the rules, those who dropped the card would have to drink so both Getou and Cassie chugged their cups before the game resumed.

This time, Getou was carefully pressing the card on Mackenzie’s lips. The latter then moved her head and delivered the card on top of her boyfriend’s lips with caution.

“Go.” Shoko nudged your rib, gesturing for you to lean closer to Satoru despite your reluctance.

Fuck. You swallowed your pride and positioned your face under him hoping that the card wouldn’t fall off. But as expected, it slipped before Satoru could press it against your lips. Not even the lack of card held him back from continuing to press his lips down on yours, locking you in a tight-lipped kiss and pulling away with a smirk.

“Sorry,” he muttered, lips brushing against yours. His eyes sparkled of insulting humor. “It slipped.”

He was quick to pull away while you were left frozen from your spot. You blamed your inability to move from the amount of alcohol in your system and not from Satoru’s kiss as you situated yourself back to your seat. There was no way you could miss the small glances that both Suguru and Shoko traded to each other, allowing the awkward air to linger more than you wanted.

Because of it, Mackenzie eyed you with an unmistakably jealous gaze but Satoru quickly gave her a kiss of reassurance, with him holding her cheek to deepen the kiss as they made out in front of you.

You used to love parties, but this might change your mind.

“Dude, it’s weird to see Gojou with a girlfriend,” the oblivious Spencer enthused after he drank from his red cup.

The white-haired man pulled away from kissing Mackenzie to look at his frat brother. “Can’t blame me. I got tired of hoes.”

If not for Shoko’s hand on your thigh that held you in restraint, you would have cussed the shit out of Satoru to his face. He has received far too many kinky slaps from you but you could surely turn those slaps into a real thing this time. He was clearly mocking you with his words and Mackenzie was too ignorant to understand the situation at hand.

“Okay, bro. Answer this. Did you guys fuck already?” Spencer asked him, his question was followed by a low chuckle.

You exhaled in exasperation. “This isn’t truth or dare, Spence.”

“I know, but,” he looked at the couple intently, “I wanna know. I heard Mackenzie’s a good academic girl and shit.”

The ‘good girl’ had a few drinks of alcohol so there was no sugarcoating to her liquor-driven answers. She even giggled as she gave a response, “We did it in the dorm,” then she looked at you sheepishly, “in your bed while you were at the game, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“OOOOOOH!”

Your lips upturned into a mirthless smile as sarcasm cloaked your wounded pride. They should see how your eyes were nothing but ill-humor in contrast to the friendly curve of your lips. It was even more insulting that Satoru was carefully watching your expression, seeing your balled fist to his satisfaction. As petty as you were, you ended up giving them a well-deserved clap.

“That’s real classy,” you spat, scoffing scornfully. You were done here. Gojou fucking won his game.

While you got up without much care to their calls to your name, you grabbed the spliff and the lighter off an already stoned Getou and excused yourself out of the circle. You would rather spend your night getting high than to be in the same room with Satoru ever again.

You never truly saw Gojou for the next three weeks.

That, and the fact that Mackenzie was coming back to the dorm less and less, probably choosing to sleep with her boyfriend for most of her nights. Gone was your roommate who would often stay at the dorms to study up until the zero hours. You could sense that she was getting awkward around you because your conversations have been limited to simple exchange of hi’s and hello’s.

Since she got into a relationship with Satoru, she transformed into a completely different person. No longer uptight and prudish. Such a typical scene for a good girl and a playboy—perhaps you should give them another round of applause. God. Your bitterness may be showing too much but Mackenzie should know that the guy she was dating was bad news and it would only be a matter of time until he would ditch her like a piece of gum that he got tired of chewing.

This whole carefree act that she was enjoying with Satoru would not last long simply because the guy wasn’t into being in a faithful relationship. He was exactly like you. You knew how his mind worked because you’ve been with him for a year.

Strangely, however, Satoru changed too.

Although you still went to frat parties, you no longer spotted him there. At first you assumed that he just wasn’t feeling the vibe, but it has been three consecutive nights where Gojou’s presence was nowhere to be seen from the silhouettes of drunken people that you cared nothing of.

Even Brooke noticed it. “It’s a lot fun when Satoru came here,” she emphasized, joining the gang by sitting next to you at the poolside. “I heard he’s with a chick now.”

Your face was clouded with wonder. Why wasn’t he going to parties anymore? This was his world, not Mackenzie.

“Dude doesn’t live here anymore,” Spencer revealed the information, causing you to halt from drinking the rest of the vodka in your now crumpled cup. “He just moved out. Him and Kenzie are living together off-campus.”

Speechless. You were goddamn speechless. No words came out of utterance as you were too dumbstruck by this information. None of the others mirrored your expression, particularly Shoko and Suguru, which gave you the idea that they knew about it all along and had chosen not to tell you.

No one fucking told you and you felt significantly stupid.

“So they’re serious, huh.” The crack in your voice equaled to the tears that were pricking at your eyes. You had to snatch the cup from Suguru’s hand to chug down the vodka straight just to numb your mind from this uninvited pain. “Happy fucking ever after.”

“You had your chance.” Spencer tried to console, but not in the way you expected him to. “You should’ve went out with him when he asked you. He was head over heels for you, dude.”

“I wasn’t fucking ready,” your response came out snappy. Did you care if you sounded mad? Hell, no. You are mad. “He should’ve waited and he wasn’t very nice to me when he asked me before.”

While he merely shrugged, Shoko rubbed your back in comfort. If only her gentle strokes were enough to soothe the twinge of ache in your heart. The threshold of your pain was being tested tonight and it reminded you of the same heartbreak you felt with Sukuna.

Sukuna. Your face hardened in remembrance. Your chest hollowed in agony.

“I think you and Gojou should have talked it out,”Shoko attempted to reason, “He probably didn’t mean to fall in love with her, but—”

“But he did,” you finished it off, not wanting to hear more or you would lose your mind. “I don’t blame him and I’m done with him. I’m so...”

Done with whatever it was that you had with him. He was clearly happy with his life now and you were back to wallow in your loneliness knowing that you and Satoru failed to meet in the middle. Right time, right person? He found it through Mackenzie.

This was all Sukuna’s fault, had he not damned you with this trauma towards commitment you probably would be in a healthy relationship by now. You and Satoru could have been the couple that he and Kenzie had just become.

You blamed it towards fucking Ryomen Sukuna. The rosy-haired man who you found in the frat basement, dragging him by the wrist as soon as he made remarks about how good you looked. Your insobriety eliminated your reluctance to interact with your ex that you didn’t think twice at being within his presence yet again.

Fuck Sukuna. Fuck Satoru. Fuck all of them.

Because of your frustration, you two stumbled in one of the rooms upstairs. The enclosed space was none other than Satoru’s old room whose bed was still neatly intact with only his clothes and a few of his things gone. This was the same room he spent many nights with you and you alone.

“So I take it we’re cool?” Sukuna asked, leaning back as he watched you lining the white powder on Satoru’s bedside table. “Yo, are you kidding me?”

You had to do this to numb your pain. Even just for tonight.

“Just shut up and join.” You pressed your finger on your nostril while placing the vacant side of your nose in front of the drug, soon sniffing the fine grains of Molly that you obtained from Suguru. You were quick to absorb the drug into your system as you widened your eyes to adjust from the strong inhalation.

Sukuna was simply enjoying the view. “Can’t do drugs. The football team gets tested regularly,” he informed, pulling you onto his lap so you could straddle him.

“They should also test you for HIV, then. Manwhore.”

Your blunt choice of words garnered his deep chuckle. “I miss my bad girl.”

Without the swirling vision from the Ecstasy, you never would have found yourself naked on top of Sukuna the next thing. Such a shame that you were back to fucking your ex on Satoru’s bed to get back at him, but it was even more shameful that you couldn’t stop thinking about the white-haired man while you were being railed by the past boyfriend that you used to love wholeheartedly.

“S-Sukuna—!” you moaned for his name as you rode his cock, but the name that left your lips was not the man that you saw in your eyes. His face, in your head, was Satoru staring at you with half-lidded eyes and telling you how good you made him feel.

Not even yours and Sukuna’s exchange of hair-pulling and degradation and slapping ever distracted you from having Satoru in your head through this spiteful sex.

That night was how you finally accepted that you have truly gotten over Sukuna because another man has long housed himself in the breadths of your heart.

“You know I love you but you’re so incredibly stupid.”

You let out a weary sigh, massaging your temples to ease your headache. It was a bad decision to walk around the campus with Shoko in this afternoon heat when she was being a nagger along with it.

You were just tired and depressed. Crestfallen, heartsore, and whatever fancy word you could describe for the blues in your heart.

“Sleeping with Sukuna, really?” Ieiri’s eyes pierced through yours like she was a mother scolding her favorite child. “Why would you do that?”

Suguru decided to support her, “Yeah. You back together?”

In your torpidity, you weakly shook your head. You and Sukuna didn’t even talk about that night because you made it very clear that you were over him. That night didn’t mean a single thing to you because there was no space in your heart left for him to come back to. “No, we’re not. Never.”

“Then, why did you—”

Speak of the devil, the rosy-haired man crossed your path with some of his jock teammates around him. He didn’t see you but you did see the purplish bruise on the corner of his mouth. Where did he get that from?

You wished you still had an ounce of concern, but you’ve grown blasé about his personal matters. Whether he got beat up or not, it was none of your business. His dick was good, you joked in your head despite your languish, too bad it wouldn’t make you stay.

As Sukuna’s figure faded through the hallway, another one came into view.

“What’s up?”

It felt like ages. An eternity, even. Satoru’s face was still as effulgent as you first saw him. That charming smile, those azure eyes, that mess of arctic hair—your heart shouldn’t be running miles. You mind shouldn’t be a mishmash of the things you missed most about him.

You were a complete mess, far from the confident you, now that he was standing meters apart. Him decreasing the distance only increased the speed of your heartbeat.

“We missed you, bro.” Suguru quickly embraced his best friend with Shoko following soon after.

You? You couldn’t even look at his eyes as you merely stood at the side. What else was there to say? He sounded content, unbothered with the lack of ‘you’ in his life. Perhaps he had gotten over you at this point. Perhaps he was never serious about getting into a relationship with you. Only he could tell.

“Sorry, I’ve been MIA.”

“Yeah, the girlfriend thing. We understand.”

“I’ll make it up to you guys, we can hangout somewhere. Kenzie won’t mind.”

It took a lot of energy, or lack thereof, for you to walk away in silence as they conversed. You didn’t mean to be a snub nor did you intend to ignore him. It was your heart that told you not to stay or else it would detonate without anyone having to fix the pieces back together.

You hoped he understood.

Even as they called for you, your feet never ceased from leaving the place to go back to the comfort of your dorm. Shutting down the world seemed like a far better idea than to be around him. This was the peak where you could say that sleeping was your only best friend aside from the alcohol.

You didn’t exactly hit rock bottom as much as you did with Sukuna, but days and days have passed as though the pages of your romance book that featured Gojou was bitterly coming to an end.

For the rest of the week, you focused on your classes and allotted most of your time to finish up your papers all ready for submission. The reward you’ve given yourself after a laborious week in campus was to none other than spend your Friday night at the frat house. There was no escape to your confinement in this meaningless night life. You were stuck in a loop of frat parties and wasted nights minus the constant hookups because you couldn’t find yourself getting invested in anyone else.

Initially, you didn’t believe those people who relied on alcohol and drugs to bury whatever misery they had in their hearts. So fucking dramatic, you wanted to tell yourself while you pondered at the night sky. The luminous moon stared back at you in its serenity as you lay floating on the water’s surface.

The bass-boosted music reverberated from a distance, not quite too far from the pool where you have situated yourself in. You loved the warmth of the water despite the chilly air that hugged your damp skin. There was nothing in your mind but the lamentation of your pathetic woes.

Paddling your feet, your body buoyed up along the slow waves while you reclined your head further into the pool. The water swallowed your hair, sucking you in like vacuum.

And like a dream, you saw a familiar face looking down at you by the edge of the pool. His face was completely inverted as he peered down at you with that achingly gorgeous smile. A fallen angel from the sky has arrived.

“You’ve been there for an hour.” The rich baritone of his voice were music to your ears.

Still and all, you tried to swim away wishing that this was indeed a dream. But Gojou being Gojou, he walked towards the direction of your floating body. Hands buried in the pockets of his shorts, long-sleeved shirt half-buttoned as usual. Was he really back? You couldn’t believe it.

“Are you gonna come up or what?” he asked with his patience running thin, coming to a halt with his footsteps just as you stopped swimming. “You look sexy in that bikini, by the way.”

The soles of your feet landed on the pool floors as you stood albeit submerged underwater. “Suck my dick,” you scornfully replied, eyes meeting his bright blue ones with pretentious insouciance. “Your girlfriend’s not gonna appreciate you ogling at me.”

There was no response given, just actions of him unbuttoning his shirt and tossing the garment on the side before he plunged himself into the pool to join you. You wanted to escape him but he already got you cornered, locking you within his arms’ embrace to relish the warmth that your body offered.

“Gojou—”

“I missed you,” he mumbled through your ear, chest to chest so you could feel the familiar beat of his heart against your own.

“You love Mackenzie,” your words, though painful, came out as a reminder for him.

He only tucked your soaking hair behind your ear. “I did.”

Did? You hit his chest with a frown forming your lips. “The fuck did you to her?” God, did he break her heart? Did he make her cry?

The rise and fall of Satoru’s chest was oceans deep. “‘When you’re with me, it feels like you see another person,’ that’s what she said,” he quoted, pressing his forehead against yours. You wanted to stop breathing for a moment. “We broke up two weeks ago. She was surprisingly cool with it.”

Shit. You closed your eyes in remorse. “Kenzie,” you muttered, feeling absolutely terrible. “I told you not to fucking play with her.”

“I didn’t.” His attempts at trying to be reasonable failed, so he made you wrap your legs around his waist as a momentary distraction. “Listen, I did like her. I still think highly of her. She was sweet, adorable, but she’s...”

“What?” you egged on, arms enclosed around his neck. You buried your jealousy with all of your might.

Funny how you two spent weeks ignoring each other and now you were back at one another’s arms. He was thinking the same exact thing when he said, “I keep wishing she was you.”

Stupid Satoru. No, you had no intentions to cry tonight even if his words caused somersaults in your stomach. You knew you wanted to hear this, but now that he was actually saying it, you didn’t know how to properly react.

“You’re so annoying.” You rested your head on his shoulder, hugging him tighter with his arms caged around your waist. The stillness of the water reflected the calmness of your heart. “You didn’t have to do all that just to make me jealous. That’s the stupidest thing ever.”

He let out a soft chuckle before he slightly pulled away to lift your chin up with his index finger. “I learned a lot from it, though. One, I think I make a terrible boyfriend and two, I prefer girls who cuss me out when I do something awful.” He left a light kiss on the corner of your lips as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was a dick. I should’ve been more mature to understand why you rejected me that day.”

Damn it. You missed him, so much that you were raptured by having him back now that the cruel world decided to be nice for once. Just like Satoru, you learned a lot after weeks and weeks of not being around him. You realized that his presence meant more to you than you believed. He was a tenant living rent free in your heart and in your mind, and you were the landlord allowing him in with so much as little payment in return.

“I’m sorry, too... for not being honest with how I really feel.”

It had been forever since you shared kisses. The movements of his lips, opening and closing like suction was a pleasure for you. You were hungrily meeting each other’s lips by devouring your mouths to have your tongue rolling in salacious synchronization.

“Satoru,” your hushed voice sounded more of a moan. Only because his fingers found your inner thighs, stroking your plump folds underwater before he pressed your back against the edge of the pool. “We’re in public.”

His mouth latched onto the crook of your neck without caring about anything else but to orchestrate pleasuring motions on your clit. “When did that stop us?” Voice now an octave deeper. “I want you right now.”

Well...

Everyone in the frat house were probably too drunk to remember this, anyway. Considering that the sober ones might be a minority, you allowed Satoru to slide your bikini to the side so he could place his tip at your entrance. The bands of his shorts were now resting mid-thigh.

“Can’t believe we’re doing this—” you ended up releasing a whimper as he sunk his cock deep inside of your cavern. Your walls clenched around his length in a tight fit that you had him gripping on the tiled surface behind you. “Mm—fuck!”

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he grunted, head falling on your neck as he began to rut his hips upwards to have you bouncing on his fully erected cock. “I lied.”

“Mm?” Your legs were locked around his waist so he could you fuck you like a rag doll and you were at a state where no other drug was on par to the euphoria that he was giving you. Satoru Gojou was your personal drug that you were highly addicted to and you were a loyal consumer who was finally ready to risk it all. “L-Lied about—what?”

Shit. Shit. His cock was getting deeper.

As much as you tried to suppress your titillating cries, you were arching your back when he was hitting your sensitive spot. The grazing of his shaft against your cunny made you release a louder moan. “You have the tightest cunt ever.” His grin was concealed by the kisses he gave you through your arousal. “Ah, shit. Y/N.”

“Don’t stop.” Fuck everyone else. There were at least fifteen people in the poolside but you gave no single damn. People fuck all the time so none of these people were clean. Besides, Satoru was yours and you were his. Lovers do what they do. “S-Satoru, y-yes!”

Maybe you would find yourselves in Pornhub the next morning with the caption ‘Frat boy fucking college chick in pool’ and you should be ashamed. You were an arrant disgrace.

But in all honesty? Whatever, then. Satoru gave zero fucks and so did you. The common thing about you and him was how you two shared the same mindset on things. Same emotions. Same heart.

Maybe same soul, too.

“Aah—fuck. Baby!”

“Shit, I’m near—!”

“They’re totally w-watching us!”

“Good,” he planted a kiss on your lips while thrusting his hips to reach his orgasm, “They should know who you belong to.”

Minus your desperation to have your climax, you kept your face pressed closely on his. Lips brushing, breaths exchanging lascivious moans. You bore your eyes into him, finally having the courage to say the words that you were once scared to say, “I’m in love with you, Satoru.”

The spread of genuine smile on his lips met the bliss that you had in the pit of your stomach. “I’m fucking in love with you, Y/N. I’ve always been.”

Like fireworks exploding on the starless skies, he brought vivid colors to your achromatic world, painting your relationship with the beautiful submission to the idea of mutual trust and commitment.

Satoru was love and you were his life.

“Kenzie, I’m so sorry. You can slap me if that makes it better, I—”

The girl’s countenance was not hostile as you expected. After having seated next to her at the back row of the lecture hall, you didn’t even hesitate at trying to make amends in the middle of the class. She must have heard about yours and Satoru’s relationship by now and you were worried for the after effects that it might lead to.

“Stop saying sorry,” she responded, turning to you with a casual smile. “I’ll get over him. It just didn’t feel like it would work, anyway.”

You held your breath as you felt awful withal. “You liked him, though. I feel responsible for your pain.”

You could go on and on or perhaps even write a three-thousand word essay as to why you deserved to hear at least one insult from Kenzie but your roommate was nothing but mature with this whole thing and you certainly could learn from her.

“Y/N,” she spoke, placing a hand on top of yours. “I honestly always felt like I stole him from you so it’s on me. I hurt you more than it hurt me. I don’t want this—him—to get in between our friendship. It’s college, I guess. He’s not the only guy in the world.”

Not only were you thankful for Mackenzie’s understanding nature, you were also highly appreciative of her high regard towards your friendship. You wished you could turn back time and just accepted Satoru’s offer to date back then so she didn’t have to go through their breakup now but she reassured to you that her time with him was fun while it lasted. She loved, she laughed, she cried, and more importantly, she learned.

You hoped more people acted the way she did because you admired her for it.

Satoru deserved an ass beating, on the other hand. Maybe when you two get some time alone, you would surely give him an earful about all the shit he just did but you couldn’t exactly give him a lecturing right now. Not when you were too busy hiding your face behind his arm, clutching his hand tight as you walked across the campus as a couple.

“Why the fuck are you hiding your face?” he asked, amused at your unwillingness to meet other people’s eyes.

“You know what we did in the pool, you jerk.” While you intertwined your fingers together, your heart felt content despite the embarrassment sitting comfortably on your face. You noticed some people glancing at you and Gojou but there were no malice intended on their gazes. Perhaps you were overthinking this whole thing.

Your boyfriend thought so, too. “They should thank us for giving them a live show, baby.”

“What’s up, sluts!”

The two of you came face to face with a grinning Shoko and Suguru who both took notice of your hand-holding moment in delight. Such supportive friends, but also annoyingly teasing. It was no lie how much you adored both of them, nonetheless. They have always been the first spectators to yours and Satoru’s complex love.

“It’s so nice to see this,” said Ieiri, shaping her hands into a heart which had you smiling in return. “Just don’t make us watch you guys fuck in public again.”

“Oh my, God.” You had to cringe as you quickly turned your face on Satoru’s chest, your boyfriend sniggering at your reaction. Being a man, things like that didn’t matter much to him because it was a good stroke to his ego as a matter of fact.

“Did we look hot?” he even asked, for fuck’s sake. Caressing your lower back with his hand. “Someone should have recorded.”

Getou erupted into a guffaw at his best friend’s naughty antics. “You nasty fuck.”

In the long hours of the afternoon, your time was spent under the shade of verdant trees with your closest friends to enjoy the last day of the semester before the holiday break. You and Satoru already had plans to visit each other’s homes to meet your families, getting more and more intimate in this relationship as you learned to open yourself more to him.

Love was never about being perfect, it was the willingness to withstand the bumpy roads that would make things worth it. Just because you didn’t have a successful relationship with Sukuna doesn’t mean you should close yourself from the possibilities of being genuinely loved.

In the end, you still found yourself meeting Satoru in the middle because it was fate’s way to tell you that you should learn to make risks in order to be rewarded with the raptures of true love. You could run a statistic count on how many friends-with-benefits turned lovers ended up successful some other day, but at the rate of yours and Satoru’s passionate feelings for each other, you two surely wouldn’t be stopping now.

Love was a gamble and trust was key. Between you and him, there was the contentment of knowing that you could begin this relationship with all of this in mind.

“We’re so toxic together. God, especially you—you literal asshole. I can’t believe you did those things to make me jealous, Satoru.”

“You said you got over it! Baby, come on. We’re the perfect match—fuck, you had that guy in my bed, too! Don’t try to act clean.”

“That was... whatever. You already punched him twice so we’re even. Let’s not talk about those things.”

“It must feel like lottery to date me, though. I fuck like a god,” Satoru boasted in his smug nature, resting an arm behind your back as you looked at the tranquil skies. His ability to make you laugh with his frolics was one of the things that you adored out of the many.

“I hate you,” you joked in a playful mien.

In reality, it was the opposite of that.

Words needn’t be said. His response, after meeting your lips for a sweet kiss, could already be seen through the gleam in his crystal eyes.

“I love you.”

jjk general taglist: @kity @deeznutss @suhkusa @wonyoschubs @the-golden-jhope @6mattsun9 @hokageyamz @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @crashica @aizawap @juniorhooter @atsumusoup @gxtitobxby @strawberries-en-cream @dora-the-grownup @softy-woo @tsumume @kac-chowsballs @anime-nymph @kageyamakock @onlyonew @underratedmage @katsulovee @crapimahuman @alicia-1725 | @reneki @pluviophilefangirl @strawberry-mentos @jxvajxy @satoryo

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gojos-blindfold · 4 years ago

Text

romeo ♱ juliet.

↳ fushiguro megumi/reader

wherefore an age-long rivalry between two of the most powerful royal families shall pay the price through the souls of a young couple whose tragic love vow’d for the reconciliation of their kingdoms

genre. angst, forbidden love, historical/royal au

tags/warnings. ooc, monarch, prince!megumi, princess!reader, megumi is a zen’in, reader is a gojou, clan wars, suggestive, violence, blood, rebellion, moderate usage of (shakespearean) modern english, feral!megumi in the end, suicide, major character death

notes. romeo & juliet trope but make it royal au amirite? this is my first royal / historical au piece and i’m sorry for any inaccuracies especially with the archaic grammar. reblogs appreciated <3

masterlist + playlist + grammar index

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈.

“Must you enlighten me with your antipathy towards the Crown Prince of Astheryn?”

A snort of disgust filled your ears as your brother in his greatness strode across your balcony in measured footsteps. “Soon to be the King,” he corrected, tidying up his white tunic before he rested his lower back against the balustrade. Long slender fingers ran up to fix his ivory hair with a peek of his cerulean eyes that shone like diamonds under the sunlight. “Don’t you know? Their King hath bid his eternal farewell.”

It was the first time you’ve heard of the unfortunate news and it brought you much sadness with the thought of the grieving family that the king of Astheryn has left behind. Howbeit, with the lack of sympathy on your brother’s countenance, you were reminded of your place as the princess of Caelum.

To lament you must not, for you were a Gojou. A death of a Zen’in should not be of your concern. They were your families’ sworn enemies after all. Granted a kingdom among the three that divided the nation—Astheryn, Caelum, and Exalos. The Gojou’s ruled Caelum while the Zen’in’s reigned supreme in Astheryn. Both nations were of equal prosperity, but a clash in significant power was what birthed half a century of bad blood between two families. An ancient grudge that came forth from two ancestral foes, now doth with the descent of the new generation whose enmities remained fifty years unresolved.

The Crown Prince in this kingdom you call home was your older brother, Satoru, with which a ten-year gap made him much more respectable in The Palace in comparison to you. He embodied the stigma of a dominant ruler with great hopes to unite all three kingdoms as one—an ideology befitting for an heir to the most powerful throne.

Natheless, he was also a fellow filled with hubris. All knowing, all bearing. A warrior and a trained potentate, a gentleman of preserved anachronistic values. Satoru possessed god complex similar to that of your father’s and he was not one to hold back on showing an outward loathe for the royal Zen’in family. He thought of Prince Toji as nothing but a bitter foe simply because the blue-blooded man was his biggest rival.

“Thy silence I will mistake as bereft,” his tone hinted of derision. There was humor in the flutter of his arctic lashes. “Unlike thee, I’m not affected by an old man’s demise. Sure, the kingdom of Astheryn is grieving but the ranking of that guy Toji is what causes my ire.”

Now that the man was to be crowned King, it only enkindled rage within Satoru’s deep-seated ego. The Crown Prince Toji was now to become the King of Astheryn. The passing down of the crown was what Satoru wanted for himself in Caelum, not for his enemy to receive the prestige before he did.

A silent sigh crawled out of your lips. In all honesty, you wished not to share the same rancor towards the Zen’in family. “My initial query awaits thine answer, brother. There must be a legitimate reason for—”

“What answer shall my little sister gain? ‘Tis by his name he is an enemy. Nothing else is to be said.” Standing up straight to regain his pomposity, he added, “When all three kingdoms unite, a powerful king is what I will be. But before all that, the King and Queen must step down on their thrones.”

That cruel smile plastered on his face, you recognized it so well. What a fool he is. “In that case, dost you await our parents’ ill-fate?”

Was Satoru willing to imbrue his hands with his own parents’ blood for the sake of attaining the highest throne? Was thy lovable prince a tyrant beneath his seraphic exterior?

“Now, words of those did not come from myself,” he played it off with a sneer, “thou’st be aware that these walls are thin, my sister. I do not speak ill for His and Her Majesty.”

You were aware indeed, but never were you in favor of his covert schemes. Should he turn out to be a traitor to your own kin, you would simply retreat back to your seat. A single word would not be spoken. Participating in this war between families, much less your own, was a disgrace you shalt forswear.

Sincerely, you didn’t ask to be born of royal lineage. You didn’t ask to partake in this kingdom quarrels. You didn’t ask to be a Gojou.

Because Megumi, your first love, was a Zen’in.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈.

“Giddy up!”

Megumi had a tight grip on the reins as he steered his horse on the path leading back to the palace. In the long hours of the morning, the prince was feeling down in the dumps. Not once did a bright expression paint his face in three consecutive nights. Could it be due to the death of his grandfather, the King? Or was it a specific princess in a neighboring kingdom that beget his melancholy?

His royal advisor, Lord Giuseppe, had already guessed that the latter was the answer. Megumi was an open book despite the stolid mien that incessantly veiled his handsome face. “A peek into thine own heart, I must. Is it a woman that Your Highness yearns to see?”

“Giuseppe,” the prince suppressed an exhale, “you know who I fancy.”

The bumpy path added a few extra jumps from their horses that Megumi had to maneuver his horse out of the dim woods, treading a nigh away from the stable. His eyes found the highest balcony of Astheryn’s royal palace, with which a panoramic view overlooked the palace of Caelum environed by lush green hills.

Whoever decided to put these two palaces near their borders without thinking that they could be of surveillance to each other’s walls from a distance?

But what great comfort will it bring to see my love? Megumi mused. A love that sparked since his sweet sixteen, a love that still lingered even now that he was in his nineteenth.

“Ah, it is Princess Y/N of Caelum indeed,” Giuseppe spoke, formal and yet playful. “‘Tis what I call young love.”

It has been two months since the graduation. As part of the royal arrangement, the children of each kingdom were to study in The Providence—a premier private academy solely for the monarchs and the elites. The academy was where he first met you, a classmate of his with whom he ought to see as an enemy but instead has housed herself in the breadths of his heart. He has fallen in love long before he could stop himself.

How couldn’t he? You were the loveliest flower among the bunch. An angel in your own grace with a face that could launch a thousand ships just like Helen of Troy. In that sense, perhaps you could rise a thousand swords for he would go to war for you. Your smile brought him felicity and he considered himself the luckiest man for being granted of your heart all the more.

With sixty days that passed since he last saw you on graduation day, your lack of presence now had him deep in forlorn. Were you to continue a degree in university? Or nought but to remain in your chambers in the palace?

“If my heart speaks to thee, Giuseppe. Tell me, then. What are the odds of me seeing her again?” he inquired, pulling the reins to halt the horse’s movements. “Could thou be of assistance for a clandestine meeting between her and myself?”

“I’m afraid not, Your Highness.” Giuseppe hoisted himself out of the horse’s back and guided Megumi inside the stable. “It is a difficult task you ask for. His Majesty’s exequy will happen by eventide and your father’s coronation will commence on a fortnight. Your presence is heavily guarded.”

Heavens. “Family matters,” he released a huff of exasperation.

Lord Giuseppe has been a royal advisor since Megumi was juvenile. Now, in the prince’s nineteen years of age, the lord treated him as though he was his own child. Seeing him so morose, he decided to give in, “Fair enough, beseech me tomorrow at sunrise to be thy herald. I will get in contact with my folks from Caelum and ask the princess’ servant myself.”

The smile of triumph finally adorned Prince Megumi’s face before he raised himself out of the horse to embrace the kind man. “Thank you, Giuseppe. I long to see my girl.”

And so that evenfall on the burial rites for the late King, Megumi was participative for the family’s gathering. The outward display of woes, the shed of tears, and the deliverance of eulogies all roused distaste in him—only for the fact that some of his family members were discreetly joyful for his grandfather’s death. Everyone in the Zen’in clan were hungry for power for all its merit.

He would leave his cousins Duchess Maki and Mai on the conversation as such women hadst not shown any interest on the throne. It was his uncle Duke Naoya that appeared to have a particular eye for the crown that was now all Prince Toji’s to claim. Only, Duke Naoya didn’t have the guts to ever be in a conflict with Prince Toji.

“How splendid!” Duchess Mai hid a smirk behind her black veil that complemented her dark, lacy gown. “You’ll become the Crown Prince.”

Megumi peeked at his father who stood outside of the Zen’in family’s catacomb to bid his final farewell to the King. In two weeks time, his father would be the most powerful man in Astheryn and Megumi would be the rightful heir.

“Could you not overwhelm him, Mai?” Duchess Maki, the twin that he preferred, had spoken beside him. “Megumi will be our hope. That stupid Toji will just endanger this kingdom with his rivalry with Satoru. They’re both tyrants.”

Maki’s bold choice of words and lack of courtesy for the royals never failed to make Megumi smile.

But a smile that he deeply yearned for was a smile that came from you, his only love.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈.

Fifty seven, fifty eight, fifty nine, it is now four o’clock!

As the clock struck four, you were high in enthusiasm when the doors to your bedroom swung open and your personal attendant stepped in to deliver a news that you’ve been anticipating since daybreak.

“What says of my love, Lady Geneva?” you jumped out of your bed to embosom the woman with wide eager eyes. “Is he to come see me? Is he? Speak of only great news for a bad one wilt thine ears refuse!” You let out a dreamy sigh, thinking of the prince. “Unbeknownst to him, I am an ardent woman ready to give him all—”

“Good gracious, Your Highness! An eager woman is not equal to an easy woman, especially of the highest nobility as yourself,” the lady reminded, fixing your silk nightgown before patting your heated cheeks. “However, yes but in privy confirmation. The Crown Prince of Astheryn would like to arrange a tryst with thee come Monday.”

How could you have forgotten? Megumi was now the Crown Prince since King Toji has claimed sovereignty over their kingdom. No wonder Satoru hadst nought but chagrin in his face to supper last eve.

But forget those fifty years worth of kingdom vendettas! The stars in your eyes still held glee over this planned rendezvous. A sweet kiss was what you awaited from your lover of three years. “Much obliged. I owe thee, Lady Geneva!” You embraced her with gratitude while she mirrored your delight. “Thy kindest hast served thy princess well.”

“Whence art thou Princess? Y/N? Y/N!”

“Oh, here comes Her Majesty,” your attendant rushed to fix the sheets of your bed. “We shan’t speak of our secret tidings with a lord and his prince from Astheryn.”

“Y/N!”

Startled by your mother’s voice, you straightened your back and called out, “I am here, madam!”

Your mother entered your bedchambers in her austerity, hair arranged into a chignon and a dress bedight with crimson prints. Her gaze towards the ladies-in-waiting that followed her was unmistakably dour. “Leave us alone to talk, kindly. All of you.”

With a single command, all servants curtsied with utmost respect before scurrying out of your room to give you privacy. This woman was your own mother and yet her presence was suffocating. You were small under her rigid stare. One step closer and she began tucking your hair behind your ear. “His Majesty and I have proposed an arrangement this morning with the Kamo’s.”

Your breath steadied in dismay. “And what did thou’st proposed, Your Majesty?”

“You, my dear,” she began, icy hands caressing your arms, “How does marriage sound to thee?”

Marriage? Oh, now what is this she speaks? Your heartbeat quickened exponentially. Is it between you and a gentleman from Exalos? Oh, God...

“I... I do not think of marriage, mother.”

With your answer, she raised her chin and narrowed her eyes. Was Satoru around to save you from your mother’s intimidating presence? He was the only one whose voice they partially listened to.

“Then you must think of marriage,” she spoke again, this time more forceful, “Prince Noritoshi, he is an heir to the throne in Exalos. Sagacious, valiant, and chivalrous—what more canst thou ask for a man? He was an upperclassman of yours at The Providence, were he not?”

An arranged marriage without my consent!

Your chest oscillated in heavy breaths, heart filling of rage and defiance. “Thou wish to use me to unite the two kingdoms, is it not?”

“Wherefore, what other use can my precious daughter be?”

“Mother,” you strictly replied, nails digging on the flesh of your palms to leave crescent marks. “I refuse to get married to a man I love none!”

The Queen’s face hardened into a stone. Her eyes ignited fire of the worst kind and with gritted teeth, she asked, “And who do you seek for love? Tell me.”

Your heart ached and your tears brimmed on the corner of your eyes. If only love had no boundaries, such lamentation would not have embraced your heart. “That of whom I love is Prince Megumi—!”

Slap! A rough, unforgiving hand met your cheek with a painful blow. “You wretched whore!” yelled she. “You ungrateful brat! How dare you speak of a Zen’in’s name!”

Your own hand flew to your cheek, soothing the sting that your mother has given. Such cheeks became incarnadine and were now damp with tears. “But if Prince Megumi, were he not a Zen’in call’d, you would not be enraged. What’s in a name if that is not of love, Mama?”

“You dare shame us for your childish infatuation?” She didn’t hesitate to add another hard smack, this time with you falling on your bed. “Speak of our enemies’ name again or you will be lock’d inside the palace dungeons, you understand?”

No! “But m-mother—”

“Silence! I am a queen first before I am a mother,” her words were a spit to your face. Words that left you sobbing in despair. “You will be betrothed to Prince Noritoshi and you will seek his affection. Do you understand?”

No, you do not.

“I said do you understand, Princess Y/N?”

In silent acquiescence, you offered a curtsy to the Queen.

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕.

The rhythmic melodies of the orchestra did not affect your silent woes. All these grandeur and aristocracy only left a bitter aftertaste in the walls of your mouth as you peered at the King and Queen who gracefully danced amongst their peers and peeresses to celebrate your father’s special day.

Prince Satoru was a domineering gentleman who stood high and mighty next to you. You were not one to miss the glances that you and your brother received from the flock of noblemen and women. How regal, they mused, of siblings dressed in similar fabric of the finest kind.

As customary, Satoru’s attire was a champagne frockcoat embellished with golden aiguillette and royal badges. He also donned a navy blue cloak that rested atop his broad shoulders and ended beneath his leather heels.

Yours was an off-shoulder gown of champagne silk embroidered with gold threads, accentuated with a tight corset that hugged your waists down to your hips before it flared into frills forming a beautiful A-line. What suited your elegance was your hair that was braided into a half-updo and locked with a glittering tiarra.

“How old is Papa?” your question was barely audible as you looked at your brother. The blend of dulcet melodies from the violins and pianoforte formed the perfect classical music.

The corner of his lips upturned. “Quite daring with your lack of proper title for the King. His Majesty is sixty-eight.”

His courtesy was no better than an act of blarney. Your eyes could well see through his tainted soul. The malicious intent that he was scheming in his head was not difficult for you to discern.

“My question retains, dost you await his ill-fate?” you asked with the underlying intention to make him admit to his planned treason. “Same goes for Her Majesty.”

Satoru’s crystal orbs landed on the faces covered in colorful bauta and colombina masks that crowded this masquerade ball. While half of their faces may be sealed, their ears were free. The prince himself knew not to speak a word.

“Mutiny lies within thy tone, sister,” he whispered, keeping his chin up high. “If you’re inveigling me into rebelling just to help prevent your arranged marriage, I will not back thee.”

“Neither will I marry him!” you replied in a hushed voice, lowering it down before anyone could hear. “Prince Noritoshi of Exalos is a courteous man but my heart rests with someone else.”

The white-haired man looked around the ballroom before turning to you. “Thou hast a traitor’s heart, Y/N. Exalos is our ally, Astheryn is not. The Zen’in family our are greatest foes. You are not in the position to ruin the plans that we—”

“Is it truly we that you speak or just thee?” How could your brother, one that used to love you dearly that he would protect you over his parents’ ill interests, had now turned into an ambitious despot? “You wish to overcome all three kingdoms for when you become king. You are plotting to overthrow the crowned monarchs by imbruing your hands with thine own kinsmen’s blood. Thou art the real traitor, Satoru Gojou.”

Satoru’s saintly face transformed into a statue, a sight caught off guard but a stance not giving away. The pivot of his heel was an act of admission withal. “Say what you want. You are the least I care about from hereafter.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕.

Running through the hallways of the palace was what you did after your quarrel with your brother. That, and your decision to withhold from further staying in the ballroom led you to reason with the King and Queen that you were too unwell to stay through their night of waltzes and classical music.

Somehow, in the middle of your strides within the carpeted floors, a stranger seized hold of your hand and pulled you towards the orchard.

“Excuse me!” you resisted, withdrawing your arm from the masked man. His mask embellished with metallic green linings was a volto that covered his entire face in anonymity. “Let me go at this very instant or these palace guards—”

He turned on his heel by the time you reached the empty orchard, removing his mask to reveal the face that procured your very love. And, with a smile, he greeted, “My love.”

Handsomest is he!

Your heart took a pause. “M-Megumi?” you whispered, looking around in panic. “What brings thou to sneak inside these heavily guarded walls?”

A hand was placed on your cheek as he pressed his sweet lips above yours, moving in perfect synchronization followed by satisfied hums and eager touches. You had not realized how tightly your arms were wrapped around his neck when he pulled away, verdant eyes gazing at you from under the moonlight.

“Unease lengthened my days. I’d to come see you after I’ve been informed of the news,” he admitted, lifting your chin with his index finger. “Was it by your decision to marry Prince Noritoshi?”

Your response was a desperate shake of the head. “Of course, not!” you gave him a kiss, “No, absolutely not. I vow to the heavens, thou art my only one.”

A sigh of relief escaped his lips but worry lingered on his angel face. “What doth this leave us with if it is thy parents will?” he asked, encasing your waist around his arm. The vibration of his chest could be felt against yours. “Shall I send you off to marry him? Be in my despair to see you a wife that is not mine?”

Your finger traced the collar of his suit. “That is the last thing I wish to—”

“Make haste and find the Princess!”

The nearby voices of your ladies-in-waiting made you stumble on your heels as you pulled Megumi, only to end up plunging into the swimming pool upon losing your balance at the slightest second.

“Aah—!”

“I believe she is in her room, Lady Catrine.”

“Her Royal Highness did say she is unwell.”

With a finger pressed on your lips, you gestured for Megumi to keep his silence in the midst of your submerged situation. “Shh. When our palace guards find thee, they will murder thee.”

Contrary to the graveness in your voice, your man was amused. “You are in the presence of a Crown Prince. There will be war if they dare lay a finger on me.”

A Crown Prince. A grin was plastered on your face as you grabbed his wrist and swam towards the small artificial cave to hide from the palace guards. Surely, said guards had all eyes on the King and Queen for tonight’s celebration but you would not take any risks of being caught. They could be wandering around for all you knew.

“Why now, my lover is an heir to the throne, is he?” You beamed at him, wrapping your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the wall. Your dressed flowed from underwater but you paid no mind. Nothing hindered you from enveloping each other’s mouth with a tight-lipped kiss. “Mm—but you are in Caelum’s w—” he swallowed the entirety of your lips, before trailing kisses down your bare neck, “—walls, my love. An act of trespassing beknown to all, especially as thou art a Zen’in. Thou wilt be warranted with a punishment.”

“Then I will take all punishment,” he answered without faltering. And by pressing his forehead against yours, he added, “Lest it be my last hours on Earth, there is no ounce of regret in seeing the woman I love.”

So eager, so desirous was you and him in locking each other’s lips now with the use of tongue whose dominance battled inside the walls of your mouth. His hand held a tight grip on your cheek, tilting his head to the side in attempt to deepen the kiss. You had to catch the breath that you’ve lost when you looked at him. “Megumi,” you cupped his cheeks, lips swollen, “make me a wife. I refuse to douse ourselves into matters of kingdom rivalries any further.”

“A proposal to elope?” he asked to clarify, “You will run away with me to marry? To give up our crowns in exchange for our romance?”

Certain you were not if Megumi would be willing to forsake his throne, whereas you would take any chances just to escape the forthcoming tyranny of this kingdom. Caelum was no longer home.

“Sworn by my love I’ll no longer be a Gojou.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈.

That same eve was spent with fiery touches and shameless admissions of love. In your bedchamber where you lay the scene, of him unlacing your corset, of you unbuttoning his tunic—all nought but bare in your virginity. From your balcony, the moon enviously stared at the two lovers under the sheets doing thus what lovers do.

Long forgotten was the king’s birthday for the princess was engaged in an intercourse with her greatest enemy. Neither your dulcet moans nor his orotund grunts would escape the palace walls for everyone believed that you were alone in your chambers.

Alone, you stifled a giggle at the thought as Megumi kissed the smooth skin where your neck met your shoulder. His hand had laced itself around yours, pinning you above your own mattress to strip you off your chastity. With every jostle, he was reaching your most sensitive places.

“M-Megumi—!” You withheld yourself from releasing a whimper as two manly hands gently squeezed your bosom.

While he, in a chase to reach his own high, knelt on his knees to finish the deed. “Just a little... more.” A kiss to silent your cries. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

That morning, you woke up entangled around the prince with only your soft sheets covering your unclothed selves. The fluttering of his lids were not due to the ray of sunlight but of the feathered kisses that you placed along his jaw.

“Care to entertain my curiosity?” You propped an elbow to look at his face, fingers caressing his bare chest. “How didst my prince infiltrate the palace of Caleum?”

He enclosed your waist around his arm. “With the kind assistance of your cousin,” he spoke in a raspy morning voice, “Knight Commander Yuuta. He is to render one last assistance to me until I reach the borders back to our kingdom.”

Ah, you now recalled. Yuuta Okkotsu, instead of being granted a dukedom, had chosen to receive an honorary title of a knighthood. He was yours and Megumi’s upperclassman in The Providence—naturally born a cavalier, a savior, and a protector. However, just like you, he had fallen in love with an enemy and Maki Zen’in was her name. There was no question as to why he would willingly help an enemy as that of a crown prince because he was on the same plight. Love was simply love.

His loyalty was where his heart lies. Once caught aiding the monarch of Astheryn into the palace of Caleum, he would be deemed an accomplice and would subsequently be exiled in the orders of your own father.

Did Megumi understand the lengths and the risks that your cousin just took? A reward of sincerest gratitude was what Yuuta deserved, especially not forgetting the fact that he acted heaps better an older brother than Satoru was as of late. Yuuta considered you a sister and all he ever wanted for you was to choose your happiness. If there was anything you could learn from him, it was how a royal title would never guarantee you the felicity that you wanted.

And thus, by his name that you speak of, Yuuta’s distant calls from beneath your balcony was a signal for Megumi’s retreat. On the other side of the door was a hubbub from the ladies-in-waiting which could only mean that a presence of a royal would soon enter your boudoir.

“I will take my leave,” your lover said, arising from your bed to hastily put on his clothes. At your own effort, you sheathed your naked body with a robe. “Our tryst shall push through. Sir Yuuta vowed to escort thee. Nine at Saint Peter’s, we will marry then.”

You’ve given your oath long before your marriage was decided, but this did not prevent a triumphant smile from decorating your face. “Expect thy future wife to arrive,” you promised, hearing footsteps nearing your door. “Not enough time. Shall you leave without the satisfaction of a good morrow’s kiss?”

His hand found the small of your back before encasing his lips in a perfect lock against yours, “I will await thy presence there,” and another kiss to seal his love.

In lightning speed, Megumi was jumping out of your balcony in hurried guidance of Yuuta and you ensured to give the former a flying kiss before bidding farewell. “Adieu!”

As your lover departed, His Majesty arrived in a stance so ruthless befitting for the great ruler that he was, even more stern and forbidding than the Queen. Behind his tail was Prince Satoru who was quick to notice the indentations on your mattress. His crystal blue eyes scrutinized you from head to toe with the conclusion that his sister shamelessly brought in a man.

A man not of common birth but of the royal blood.

He would be a hypocrite so to speak. He slept with some of the servants, even as far as bringing courtesans to his bedroom in every fortnight. The only difference was that your lover was the son of his greatest foe.

“Your Majesty,” you humbly greeted, curtsying before your father.

He eyed you with an unrelenting gaze. “Dress up. Your attendance is required by high noon.”

You traded glances with Satoru whose eyes were full of judgment before you asked, “Whence doth my father summons me?”

“To make an acquaintance with your fiancé.” Your heart fell heavily to the floor as your father added, “Your marriage with Prince Noritoshi of Exalos is to commence on Monday.”

“N-No.” Horror painted your now pallid face. You were hysterical, then in much denial. “No! I refuse to—”

“Interfere with my plans or you shall be dealt with!” The King roared in vexation with little care for your emotions.

More domineering when he swung his cloak, much swiftly when turned on his heel. He left you in your chambers begging on your knees, pleading in desperation for him to abort the marriage while your brother looked down at you with lack of sympathy.

Satoru. You wanted the old Satoru back—the Satoru that would quickly take you in his arms and place comfort in his gentle hands. This was not the same brother.

Alas, he informed you of the most devastating news of all. “The Prince of Astheryn will be executed for entering the borders of Caelum without notice. Their King has been apprised.”

A gasp escaped your lips just as fright painted your face. “Megumi can’t be—!”

“That is not the most important part. Toji is far unconcerned,” Satoru cut you off, hands deep in his pockets. “There is something you should be aware about that boy you’re head over heels for.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈.

Between the two kingdoms, it was known that Astheryn was more barbaric. If Caelum was ruled by Greeks, consider Astheryn as ruled by Romans. More vicious, more hostile—God forbid even their own kinsmen were not excused to the King’s brutality. In his belief, and in all monarchs precedent to his current throne, any member of the royal family must hold a high regard for their name.

A Zen’in was equal to that of a supreme being. Neither King Toji himself nor any of his kinsmen must associate themselves with an enemy if they wish not to be deemed a traitor. The Gojou family shall not be spoken of in all lands there were of Astheryn.

Now, why has a son of his, a crown prince even, has willingly involved himself in this predicament of being mandated with a death penalty?

As per The Amendment when Prince Megumi was escorted through the border between Caelum and Astheryn, the dictum was to either administer his immediate execution or the prince would be released but the two kingdoms would hereafter declare war. Neither was an option but King Toji had to spare his son’s life regardless of his reluctance to put his kingdom at stake.

“All for a whore?” His Majesty growled from under his breath. “You are causing us war in exchange for a whore?!”

The back of the King’s hand was forcefully thrown at the Prince’s face as the man in question stood before him. King Toji was enraged, but more so was he ashamed for his son’s doings.

The same son balled his hands into tight fists then. The hardening of his jaw and the fury in his eyes were to show his dissension. “A whore you call’d her then a whore you must call your concubines. My only love sprung from one woman. Thou canst not say the same with my deceased mother.”

There was not the faintest trace of deference in his tone because his pique dominated him much to his father’s ire. A clash between two of Astheryn’s most powerful rulers was impending.

“Thou darest bring that up as defense?” Toji emitted a deep chuckle of distaste. “The matter at hand is on the subject of your stupid childish love! Thousands of women walk on Astheryn’s streets and thou still choose the youngest daughter of a Gojou?”

“A Gojou, whose name carried she, is no longer my enemy but a wife to be,” said he, “nor did I ask to partake in this fifty-years of kingdom strife. I am choosing her over my crown.”

“Bastard!”

The King drew out his sword in vexation, but what surprised everyone in that room was how Megumi himself pulled out his brand in act of defense as the father and son threatened each other’s throats.

Twenty swords from the palace guards were then pointed at the Prince’s head in protection to the King. The suspense was high as the supreme ruler and his son kept their rigid stance, not moving their swords an inch away from their necks all while the guards remained with weapons at hand.

It was after a minute within the stares of death shared with his father until the King himself lowered his brand and commanded, “Drop thy swords and take thy leave. I need a private word with my son.”

His Majesty’s sword was long sheathed back to its original place, now standing in less tension. Megumi knew where this was heading to and saw how the palace guards were confused for the whole sixty round of the minute hand that went through the clock. Thus, by the King’s word, they retreated out of the room and left the father and son alone.

Alone, out of earshot to rest from the performance they have delivered in front the servants and the palace guards to create a story based on hearsay. ‘Our great King Toji and Prince Megumi fought over that woman from Caelum’, was an expected rumor that would soon spread throughout Astheryn. This would allow the citizens to grow wroth towards the other kingdom for causing their own rulers to be engaged in a bloody fight. They would hate you and your family enough to participate in a war to overthrow Caelum.

The King erupted into a laugh, such boisterous laughter plagued Megumi’s ears while he returned to his grim visage. “Very well played, son. I’d have almost believed thee. You have the brilliance of an actor.”

Megumi kept a detached stare. “Father, I’ve fulfilled your orders. What else do I—”

“And thou shall continue for until the war ends,” the cruel King announced, “What have you gathered in Caelum aside from playing with that awful girl’s heart?”

He took a deep breath. “Satoru Gojou conspires to kill his own kinfolks, be in the highest throne, and hence take sovereignty over three kingdoms.”

“Pathetic.” Toji showed boredom by sitting at his throne knowing that his rival’s treason would not eventuate because Astheryn was ten steps ahead. Megumi came to the palace of Caelum with a purpose and it was for the rivaling kingdom to corner them into unprepared war. He was meant to be caught and taken to the borders. You were just an instrument to their plans. Toji took his son’s forbidden romance for granted and used it as a tool to fuel his own interests. “That girl, you love her?”

Megumi’s breathing became still. He was a traitor, but never to his own land. “I love my kingdom more.”

The King blessed him with an approving nod. “And what is our goal?”

How heartless canst this man be? “To expand our suzerainty and overthrow Caelum until they are forced to submit.”

Toji ascended from his throne only to descend and meet his son down the steps, patting his back with much regard. “Stand high and be proud. A woman is replaceable but a kingdom is not,” said his father, “You will serve as a good king. This is everything I expect from thee.”

In Megumi’s head, he could see the flowery smile that you gave him before he left. The kisses you gave for when you saw felicity through him. His heart ached the more ill words he spoke. He did not want this, but he ought not to disobey his father.

“I care more for my throne than a daughter of my enemy.”

⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈.

Instead of being outraged, you were melancholic. You refused to believe Satoru’s words when he said that Megumi’s true intent was to be a spy in your own land. Wooed by his words was a foolish woman like you, but the three years of being in this secret romance thus earned you a right not to doubt the man that you loved.

Who do you believe? Is it thy brother or is it thy lover? When your heart was in grief, marrying a man not of your worship such as Noritoshi of Exalos was never an option. You were in desperate need to give Megumi a chance to explain himself, clear himself, be honest with himself and for his three-year love.

Covered in a cloak and a face concealed with a hood—in a carriage meant for mails was how you trespassed the land of Astheryn. If Megumi could sneak through your walls, then you ought to do all the same. What was there to lose? Your father and mother never saw you as their own child but as a mere pawn that they could use as their trump card. Satoru cared more for his ambitions more than his own kin.

You were alone in a palace that was meant to be your home.

Lord Giuseppe saw you roaming outside the fences of the palace, searching for your prince in hopes of having the discourse you sought to have. You would have been long dead should the palace guards catch sight of you but blessed were you that Megumi’s trusted man was the one who found you sneaking in at their orchard.

“Dearest God! Princess Y/N, you are not to be seen in this palace—”

“Stop not a desperate woman,” you spoke, restraining your weak sentiments as you peered at his face from under the moonlight. Hurt was evident on your countenance. “Have me a word with the prince.”

Giuseppe’s face enshrouded in panic. “A word can be exchanged through heralds. Come, I will take thee back to thy kingdom in safety.”

You stubbornly refused, a burning ache was seeping through your chest. “A word with Megumi,” close to breaking into tears, “P-Please. I refuse to think that he betrayed my love.”

“Betrayed I have.”

The both of you swiftly turned to the owner of the deep voice to see Megumi walking closer through the darkness of the orchard. Such as the stars on a clear sky did not appear in his eyes. First you were frozen, second you were running to his arms.

“No,” your voice came out shaky but you embraced him tighter, breathing the comfort of his scent where you now seek home, cupping his cheeks where your lips were once planted on. “Thou hadst been true to me, thou hadst not lied—”

Megumi had his hands wrapped on your arms, pulling away from your touch with a detached gaze. “Trusting an enemy is not what thou should have done.” He looked down at you in insouciance before your tears cascaded from your eyes.

“Y-You, how could you say that after having been my lover for three years?” you cried, throwing a fist on his chest as you sobbed your heart out. “Thy words of love were never lies! We’ve been together since we were sixteen!”

“And I have lived as a Zen’in since I was born,” he responded, looking away from your morose eyes. The pain in his chest was sealed by his stern front. “We were never meant to love. We were never star-cross’d lovers.”

Oh, as if the universe had thrown its gravity on your shoulders. As if the sun could never shine again to welcome the day. As if your heart, gnawed from your chest, blazed by fire and left in ashes. If this was never love, then what could be? If such enmities were a plague for two people to love freely, you wished not be a princess any longer than you have.

Your feet carried you a few steps back as you looked at Megumi with wide tearful eyes. “Thou loved me not? Thou art not willing to fight for me, continue the marriage with me?”

The Prince failed to answer nor could he meet your eyes as he turned his back on you, “Giuseppe will escort you back to your kingdom. I will pretend I never saw your presence in our land.”

You drowned from your tears as you watched Megumi walking away, fading farther and farther from your sight with each step while you called for his name. Betrayed your family only to be betrayed by your lover. Was this nought but a wicked game?

“These eyes see real lies, Megumi!” was your last words to yell before having Giuseppe pull your lethargic body to escort you away.

You were no longer looking to see how Megumi stopped in his tracks to look back at you. You were no longer in sight to watch how he closed his eyes in despair and swore himself a million times for breaking your heart.

You were back in your chambers in Caelum, comforted by your brother while Megumi was in his room being whipped by the King, receiving bloody laceration in his back as punishment for letting you leave the palace unharmed.

It would have been the perfect chance to have held you hostage, the King said, unknown to the fact that his son was the real hostage in this tragic fate.

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐗.

The war had begun.

Yuuta was exiled and your arranged marriage was put on hold as the royals—that of the King, Queen, and the Prince prepared for the bloodshed of the citizens of Astheryn and Caelum. How could Megumi let all of this happen? More importantly, what kind of person were you to risk your kingdoms and the lives of civilians because of your selfish love?

Because of your actions, you were locked up in the palace dungeons while the war was on-going. It had been a week since you last saw daylight and your refusal to eat anything had you losing weight.

You were better off as skin and bones. If Megumi could not love you because he was tied to his role as the Crown Prince, then who else would look at you in the eyes and adore you the same way? His words back at the palace were nothing but lies because you could not accept that he betrayed you.

How could those secret messages, those clandestine meetings, those star gazing back at The Providence be all a lie?

Satoru came down to see you in the palace dungeons one day in full armor as though he had just gone through an arduous day of sword fighting. He saw you in your travail, chains around your wrists like an animal kept in cage. At that moment, the old Satoru came back. Pity bathed his eyes as he crouched down to look at you.

“I’ll get you out of here,” he promised, planting a kiss on your forehead from behind the bars. His jaw clenched. “Have mine own hands besmirched with blood, I vow to kill all of them.”

You gave a weak smile through your lassitude. “Thou admit to your high treason?”

“Mama and Papa do not deserve to rule the kingdom. You best not see what they have done to our own people,” he claimed as he found his seat on the ground, “Our knights were made to protect only the royals. They let the civilians shed their own blood for us.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “Th-That is—”

Satoru could only shake his head in frustration. “I’m not a tyrant, Y/N. It is the likes of our parents and Toji who caused plague to both our houses.”

The inability to meet Satoru’s cerulean eyes was due to your regretful judgement towards your brother’s true motives. He had always been a better ruler than your parents, despite his rivalry with Toji, you could now see the reason why.

Satoru only despised the traditional system set by the two kingdoms, but he would not go as far as harm his own citizens in exchange.

“A mouthful of sorry’s must come from me unto you,” you said, deep in forlorn.

“That’s long forgotten,” he reassured, reaching for your hand, “As for Megumi, he...”

How could such a name cause somersaults in your stomach? “He what?”

On the unfortunate side of the spectrum, the stiffness in Satoru’s face could only mean bad news. Your heart was left unprepared when he said, “The kingdom of Ellesmere will aid Astheryn in this war to ensure our downfall, only in the condition that he will marry the princess who will bear him a child.”

The revelation had your soul leaving your body, ceasing to feel the searing pain that brought your heart to oblivion. You suddenly lost the will to live—no, you wished not to live to see him with a wife by his side. The screams of your heart were the loudest silence of all.

“Y/N—”

“Seek me the apothecary,” you pleaded, sinking back to your dungeon to be engulfed by sorrow. “Afterwards, go and tend to our people, Satoru. You are the only hope of this kingdom.”

He was the only hope for you have long given up.

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐗.

Vestiges of war were left of Caelum when Megumi led his horse to pass through its empty streets. The warfare had ended in armistice with King Toji and Prince Satoru heavily injured after their sword fight. Not only did the current rulers caused their own downfall, civilians have also formed an uprising against their own kingdoms after realizing that they were being mercilessly used for bloodshed.

Megumi was at a point of extreme weariness. He was tired of the chaos ensuing between two kingdoms, protecting the civilians and fighting for peace through war. He was tired of being a puppet by having to marry the princess of Ellesmere, not by his choice but of his father’s. He was tired of the combative fighting, the number of knights he had encountered, the amount of souls he had taken away by imbruing his hands with their blood.

He has not heard from you after weeks since you came to Astheryn that one Thursday night and it was most ruthless torture he had to ever go through. However, a word from Yuuta stating that he had to see you in person led him back to Caelum to get a glimpse of you.

As he hoisted himself out of the horse, he entered Saint Peter’s chapel where an aisle of candles and flowers greeted him and his bloodstained armor. Like the promised wedding, you were there at the end of the aisle as if he was the bride who was walking towards you. In your ivory dress, enwreathed by white roses waiting for your prince charming by the altar.

Only, your body lay still on your deathbed like an angel in her peaceful sleep contrary to the war of demons outside of the chapel.

Megumi was benumbed. His feet could barely drag him proper steps as he slowly made his way to meet you across the aisle with a heart bleeding through its crevices. Alas, such a broken man was also breaking down.

You took your own life doth with a poison to help you, Yuuta told him, in your grief after hearing that he married another woman. You died thinking that Megumi never truly loved you and has done the unforgivable act of betrayal.

Megumi’s eyes were filled with tears when he reached your deathbed, staring at your face thinking that you were just in a deep slumber. Not even the warmth of his fingers when he traced your cold cheek awoke you nor did the droplets of tears that fell on your chest as they forced their way out of his eyes.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, blinking the tears that clouded his vision. He leaned down to press his lips against yours to kiss you for one last time, even as the recipient was nought but a soulless body. “There were no lies within my truths. My love, whose face is as fair in her eternal sleep, is the only woman that this heart seeks.”

The torturous pang inside his chest grew more painful with a torment so unbearable that he had to hug your body, head on your chest while he listened to your nonexistent heartbeat. His love, his only love was gone.

You were victims of your family’s rancor. A strife between kinsfolks that put their pride above all else but resulted to casualties that halted a love so free, so beautiful, and so innocent.

Megumi wiped his damp face with his hand, standing back up in realization. So innocent but tainted, he bitterly laughed to himself.

And he laughed more. He was in a fit of laughter through his tears, staring at the Holy Cross as he fell unhinged with the shock of bereavement. His mind took him back to the day where his father harassed him to fulfill his duties as the Crown Prince.

The father that taught him that love could not make him happy as much as power would. How could he be stupid? If it was true, then why was King Toji miserable despite being seated on the highest throne?

“This,” he looked up at the cross with a manic smile that did not match his sorrowful eyes, “This is how it ends!”

For fifty years of kingdom strife shall end tonight.

“I’ll see you and come to you. I’ll keep you in thy true love’s embrace, take you in my heart and never have you leave,” he mumbled one last time, a kiss sealed on your lips before he unsheathed his dagger. The sound of skin ripped through the air and echoed through the chapel as Megumi stood still, blood gushing out of his pierced heart before he fell on the ground next to where your body lied.

In peace was where both lovers rested.

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𝐓𝐡𝐮𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐘/𝐍 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐮𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐲-𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐫𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞.

𝐋𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐙𝐞𝐧’𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐙𝐞𝐧’𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧’𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.

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