𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 ☀︎

“WILL MY EXQUISITE MORTAL LET ME BE HER FIRST BITE?”

“I can’t give you an Edward Cullen but I can be the vampire of your fantasies. So will you accept me, my love?”

pairing: vampire! suguru geto x f!reader | kinkoctober m.list

summary: it is at tokyo university, during a foggy month of october, with a soft, chilling rain falling drearily, that autumn gloomily settles over all the students. you are a biology student — a true passion for you. but aside from the precious time you spend with your eye glued to a microscope, observing cells, your nightly dreams of a noble vampire whisking you away from this life to spiral with you in a bewitching dance — much like edward cullen would — seem to be coming true. especially when your new lab partner, suguru geto, appears to be anything but one of the common folk…

warnings: +18 MDNI, smut, nsfw, suguru and reader are students in biology, some scenes are inspired from the volume 1 of the twilight saga, dark academia vibes (kinda), fall mood, slight angst, gojo and choso makes an appearance, gojo is also a vampire, friends to lovers, suguru is a gentleman, human/vampire relationship, nightmare, mention of alcohol (it’s beer), blood sucking, handjob (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), cowgirl, overstimulation, sex (p in v), oral (f + m), blood kink (well, i think so...), voice kink.

wc: 10,759 (i’ve missed writing long fics haha)

A mortal life can be so dull, can’t it?

While vampires, they get to live eternally, without worrying about time or dying. Not only are they blessed with breathtaking beauty, but they’re also quick, with vision sharper than an eagle’s, and they remember forever what they read.

That would come in handy for many, wouldn’t it, dear reader?

Or maybe, having a vampire boyfriend, like in books and series? Is it always asking for too much…

“You’re reading Twilight?”

The question, almost whispered near your temple, makes you jump on the bench in the lecture hall where you’re sitting, and you nearly drop Volume 1 of your favorite vampire saga. His breath is icy, enough to send a chill of goosebumps over the entirety of your skin. At least, October’s biting wind has a rival…

You quickly look up at a student around your age, who sits in the seat next to you, a smirk stretching across his perfectly thin lips. The beauty of this stranger becomes blinding.

Is such supernatural beauty even allowed?

With long strands of black hair brushing his shoulders, alabaster skin, deep obsidian eyes, and a physique perfectly balanced between lean and muscular, your mouth falls open in indiscreet amazement. And he has probably noticed, as the corner of his mouth stretches even further.

He knows he’s beautiful. Is he using it to his advantage? You half hope he is.

“Yes,” you answer simply, your eyes still fixed on him as he pulls out his things. “You recognized it?”

He raises an amused eyebrow. “A classic of vampire literature, isn’t it? How could I not?”

His remark warms your heart in a strange way. “Oh, I don’t know. I rarely meet guys who’ve read the same books as me.” Your gaze drifts over the lower rows of the lecture hall. “I expected you to bring up the movies.”

“I did watch the movies, but I read the books first. You know what they say about that.” His velvety tone draws your attention, and surprisingly, his gaze remains fixed on you.

There’s this light that animates his irises — like a smile.

“Is that why you took biology classes?” he continues, breaking your silence. You furrow your brows. “I mean, it’s the place where Bella and Edward first meet, right?” He chuckles at your still-confused expression. “In a biology class,” he clarifies.

And he laughs when the lightbulb in your mind finally goes on.

His laugh is so soft, almost musical and enchanting. A lullaby that pleasantly tickles your ears, drawing you in.

“So, you like vampire stories? Perfect for October,” he adds.

You study the flawless features of his face and almost forget to answer him. “Uh, yes. It’s one of the first romances I read when I was young. I reread it every year, like a tradition.”

“Oh, then I’m dealing with a real fan! Maybe you’re waiting for your vampire?” His teasing tone stings, making your cheeks blush adorably.

“What? No, I never said that!” you protest.

Once again, he bursts out laughing, this time so openly that you can see all his perfectly aligned white teeth — one detail you can’t ignore.

His canines are slightly sharper than average. They have their charm, certainly, but that doesn’t stop the strange feeling that there’s nothing ordinary about him.

No, you’re not delusional enough to think he could actually be a vampire (that only happens in books, come on!), but still, why not imagine it? His beauty, however, remains anything but normal.

In the end, as you join in his contagious laughter, you can’t help but think that maybe this new October will be a little more special than the previous ones and a little less lonely.

~~~~

By the end of the day, you at least managed to get a name — Suguru Geto.

Does a man who monopolizes your attention also have to be blessed with such a lovely name?

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

The familiar tone tickles your ears the next day, but you don’t look up right away, preferring to wait for him to set down his things and prepare himself, just as you are, for the practical biology class (the one that usually takes place in the lab).

You lift your nose from yesterday’s book and glance at the window, where a thin stream of sunlight slips through the glass to warm the surface of the floor. “It’s rare for October,” you comment nonchalantly.

“Don’t sound too excited,” he replies sarcastically, quickly slipping on his white lab coat. His long strands of black hair brush against the pristine white fabric with elegance. “You don’t like the sun?” A mischievous smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as it twitches slightly.

“And you like it?” you retort, knotting your brows as your eyes rise to meet his.

“I hate it.”

You blink. “Didn’t you say it was a nice day?”

“I asked you if it was.” He chuckles softly. “If you’d breathe in something other than moldy paper…” He gestures at the yellowed pages of your book.

“Show some respect for my book.” You close it sharply and give Suguru’s shoulder a playful shove that barely registers, as if his muscles were made of stone.

“Good morning, class.” The voice of your professor cuts through just as you’re about to make a comment about it, and you quickly store your book in your bag.

For this biology class, a rather simple and classic experiment needs to be carried out in pairs using a microscope — a blood type test (ABO/Rh). Something fairly standard and easy to do. It reminds you of a scene from the first volume of the Twilight saga, and to say that you’re holding back from a mini-celebration would be an understatement, as everything seems perfect.

During the procedural steps of the experiment, you notice Suguru watching you, sitting on his wooden stool as you bring the needle close to the tip of your finger. “Aren’t you going to prick yourself?” you can’t help but ask.

Suguru shakes his head, swallowing. “I have a hard time with… blood.” He inhales and exhales lightly, as though something constricts him in his attempts.

“Oh, really?” You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Are you hemophobic?”

“Let’s… go with that,” he replies, his tone almost so dry and flat that you wonder where his cheerfulness from earlier has gone.

“So, you’re not really phobic?” you press, which elicits a small sigh from him that you notice despite its subtlety.

“It’s complicated to explain,” he says, his gaze lowering to the lab table legs. “I’ll just do the experiment with you.”

“But it’s graded,” you murmur. “Wouldn’t you rather we—”

“I know. The professor is aware, don’t worry,” he assures you through clenched teeth, scooting his chair back slightly from you and clearing his throat to stifle the metallic sound of the chair legs scraping the floor.

Of course, this doesn’t escape your notice. You even have half a mind to ask if he’s okay, but he cuts you off right before you can, making you almost want to shake him. “I’ll help you analyze your blood type; just let me know when to add the anti-A drops and—”

But before he finishes, you’ve already pricked your finger, and a large drop of blood is forming. The reddish liquid rolls down your fingertip like a tear, and you quickly place drops on the microscope slides.

Suguru stands up abruptly, and for a second, you think he’s going to rush over to draw some drops for the test, but he grabs his things instead and bolts out of the lab without a word.

In the room, no one — neither students nor the professor — seems to pay any attention to him.

You’re the only one left frozen, with drops of blood still trickling down your hand.

Wait, what just happened?

~~~~

During the rest of the week that follows, Suguru doesn’t show up to any classes. Not even the biology ones.

Confusion continues to hang around you, almost preventing you from enjoying a good night's sleep. He who seemed so charming and welcoming at first now seems to have pulled away all of a sudden.

Did you upset him by biting him without warning? He probably didn’t like that, but wasn’t it him who was behaving so strangely? It’s almost like he has bipolar behavior.

Sitting at the base of a solitary tree in your university courtyard, you’ve settled in to enjoy the grayish weather and the beauty of the autumn leaves swirling down onto the green grass by the pathways.

What perfect weather to study.

Fine raindrops fall here and there, but nothing to damage your belongings, or perhaps just enough to help you forget your sad heart. Of course, you barely know Suguru. He’s a student as ordinary as a gemstone in a river of pebbles. As normal as the beauty of a model and that of the one who foolishly stole your heart in less than 2000 words (you’re about there, dear reader). You’re just a fool. He doesn’t represent much aside from being beautiful.

And potentially liking what you read.

And maybe you’re also disappointed at the thought of having believed in a friend (a rare one, because yes, you certainly don’t have any).

And the possibility of spending the best season in the company of someone who might appreciate the same autumnal atmosphere as you.

The cold wind blows, sweeping your hair from your face over your shoulder, doing the same with a few pages of the textbook lying on the grass. You hold your copy of the Twilight saga close, the only thing that still connects you to Suguru, who has been missing for almost a week.

Too bad…

~~~~

The following week, to your surprise, as you take your usual seat in the biology lecture hall in the early morning, Suguru Geto quickly descends the steps and sits on the opposite side of the room.

The moment he walked through the doors, your eyes locked onto him and didn’t waver, but of course, he didn’t glance at you even once. So maybe you can give him the benefit of the doubt — maybe he didn’t see you.

But that doesn’t seem to be enough.

Not when, at the end of the lecture, he walks right past you to leave the room, making it all too obvious that he’s purposely ignoring you. He practically escapes from the lecture hall, walking so quickly that he leaves the crowd of students behind him.

He must be mad at you.

Well, so be it.

That’s what you tell yourself.

What you keep telling yourself.

And you keep repeating it, even as he sits with other students, one girl in particular giggling with him during class. A pang tugs at your heart. The same smile, the same eyes, but now directed at another girl. And even other guys. But it’s even more unbearable when it’s another girl.

Too bad...

So you wait through the following days, secretly hoping he’ll come over to you, but nothing. Then one Friday, just as all hope seems to have evaporated, your biology professor makes an announcement that makes you sincerely want to marry her.

“My dear students, it’s finally time for me to evaluate you on what counts most for me before midterms, and that’s your ability to work on a project, which you’ll hand in after some time,” she announces, her tone lightly enthusiastic, as if giving extra work could raise her salary. “I’ve already paired you up, with each group working on a different topic. The pairs and topics are already posted on the list I’ve sent to your emails via the course Canvas page.”

Within seconds, everyone in the lecture hall has their eyes glued to their phones, checking who their partner is. Cheers echo around you, with some students celebrating their familiar partners, while others are less pleased.

In your case, it’s your jaw that does the work, practically hitting the floor.

Your name right there, alongside his — Suguru Geto.

He’s the first person you look for, and you can’t deny a slight thrill of satisfaction.

Lower down in the hall, Suguru sits frozen, holding his phone, his shoulders tensed, likely processing the news about his partner. He shifts slightly after a few moments, and you can predict his movements with surprising clarity. The instant he begins to turn in what seems like your direction, you quickly avert your gaze, avoiding any — direct or indirect — confrontation with him.

The bell finally rings, and the students start packing up, barely listening to your biology professor’s reminders about the project’s due date.

You don’t linger either, hastily grabbing your bag, stuffing in your laptop and other things, eager to escape the room and avoid crossing paths with Suguru.

Just as you reach the middle of the courtyard, where rain pours down in relentless sheets, your name is called out despite the strong wind biting at your cheeks and bending nearby trees. The rain falls harder by the second, driving most students to seek refuge indoors, away from the dark gray sky and the downpour increasing in force and volume.

Despite the fierce wind and unending rain, your name is called out a second time as panic seizes you. A conflict arises within you. It’s Suguru’s voice ringing out miraculously above the “storm,” yet you still need to find shelter.

You keep walking, determined not to turn back. Your clothes are soaked, your skin chilled to the bone, and your hair plastered to your face. But no, you won’t turn back.

This time, your name is called so loudly and from so close that you startle, your previously squinting eyes now wide open. “Are you crazy? It’s pouring like a storm!” Suguru exclaims, wrapping his hand around your wrist to pull you toward the empty gazebo to shelter you both. You protest, pulling your wrist back in vain, but you have to admit it: Suguru’s grip is as solid as stone.

Both of you, soaked to the bone, stand under the gazebo as Suguru wrings out his jet-black hair, then immediately turns to face your shivering form. "Are you okay?" he murmurs softly, just as thunder rumbles in the distance. But it’s easy to read his lips.

You nod, averting your gaze. “What do you want?”

Suguru furrows his brows. “Originally, to talk about the project. But at this point, to keep you from throwing yourself at the storm!”

His words are so sarcastic that the two of you end up staring stupidly into each other’s wide, rain-dampened eyes, as droplets patter against the gazebo roof.

Then you both burst out laughing.

It doesn’t take long before you’re doubled over, tears welling up as laughter fills the air. The deep breaths and cold, ragged gasps that freeze your lungs mean nothing compared to this absurdly amusing moment.

When the laughter finally subsides and you’ve caught your breath, Suguru clears his throat. “Anyway, can I ask why you decided to challenge this storm when I was calling out to you?”

“Ask yourself,” you retort, the laughter vanishing from your face. “Weren’t you the one who left me mid-experiment and has been ignoring me ever since?” You pause, trying to keep your growing feelings hidden, as warmth rises to your cheeks. To cover it, you add, “And besides, I don’t owe you anything. You told me you’d arranged things with the professor.”

Suguru blinks twice in quick succession. “Did… that hurt you?”

You frown. “What? No, we barely know each other. That’s not what—”

He murmurs your name as a gentle warning, sending a shiver down your spine, then takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. “Answer me. Did it hurt you?”

You purse your lips, feeling embarrassed, but remain in stubborn silence.

Suguru sighs, then lowers his head toward you until his forehead rests gently on your shoulder. “Forgive me.”

“...What?”

“Forgive me,” he repeats. “I understand my mistake. I knew that leaving without an explanation would hurt you. But I didn’t think it would be even worse if I didn’t come to talk to you afterward. I thought… maybe you didn’t want to talk to me anymore.” He lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours, and you’re left speechless at his words. “You have every right to be upset with me. It’s not fair.”

Suddenly, a clap of thunder booms, and you flinch in fright. Suguru instinctively places his hands around your elbows.

“Are you okay?”

You swallow, heart pounding. “Yes, I’m fine.” Suguru looks puzzled, his brow furrowing in response. “I mean,” you turn your face away, your cheeks aflame, “let’s just forget it happened. I’m not mad at you. Maybe I should have warned you I was about to prick my finger and—”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Suguru cuts you off softly, a worried crease forming between his brows. “It’s my fault. I wasn’t in the right mindset, and I panicked when I saw the blood. You have nothing to apologize for, please.” He uses the quiet moment to tuck a stray lock of hair that had fallen near your eyes behind your ear. “So… do you forgive me?”

Your eyes meet his again, and the warmth in them nearly overwhelms you. “...Yes.”

“Perfect. Thank you,” he whispers, grateful. Another silence lingers as he slowly releases his hold on your elbows. “So… are you up for the project?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve any more real blood,” you reply with a shy, half-smile.

“Promise, no more blood,” Suguru assures you, chuckling softly.

~~~~

“It’s actually pretty convenient.”

“Yeah, well, maybe not for our hands,” Suguru grumbles, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his fingers now stained red from the strawberry juice that’s seeped out.

“I actually like it,” you mumble, chewing on a strawberry used for your DNA extraction analysis — the topic of your shared project.

All of it comes from a strawberry, considering Suguru wasn’t keen on using mouth swabs, which was understandable.

“You’ve got juice all around your mouth,” he chuckles, amused by your bewildered and almost endearing expression. “Need some help?” He reaches out and gently wipes a red stain from the corner of your lips with his thumb.

You murmur a quick thank you, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly as he wipes his thumb with a tissue, then casually tucks it away in his pocket. With a quick glance at the clock on your living room wall, he comments, “You haven’t eaten dinner.”

“You mean we haven’t,” you correct him.

“No, I mean you haven’t,” he insists with that familiar little smirk. “And I’m suggesting we go out to eat.” He gets up from his chair in a fluid motion, heading toward the exit without waiting for a reply.

As he had intended, you soon find yourself seated at a cozy, discreet restaurant with soft, dim lighting. Suguru sits across from you, arms crossed over his chest, his torso leaning forward slightly.

“So? Did you decide?” he murmurs softly, a stray lock of his raven-black hair brushing his cheek, its tip just grazing his lips.

“Yes, I’ll go with this,” you show him, just as the server arrives to take your order with a polite smile. “What about you?”

“You didn’t choose a drink.”

“Oh, um, a Coke,” you reply, a bit caught off guard.

“Make that two Cokes, please,” he tells the server, who nods and leaves quietly. Suguru turns back to you. “I already paid the bill,” he adds as you open your mouth to speak.

“But you didn’t even know the price of what I’d order,” you protest, frowning.

“I left a tip just in case.” He grins.

Moments later, despite your ongoing complaints about his overly chivalrous gesture, the server places a steaming hot dish in front of you.

“Suguru…” you sigh.

“Eat,” he responds with his ever-present smirk, nudging the plate closer.

Seeing no other choice, you stab a piece of vegetable with your fork, chewing it with an exasperated pout.

Suguru’s grin widens until it reveals perfectly straight, white teeth, with canines just a bit sharper than average. If you let your imagination go, who wouldn’t think of a vampire? But you keep that thought to yourself and blink at Suguru, whose grin soon turns to laughter.

“What?” you ask, mouth still full.

“You look like an angry little chipmunk,” he laughs, covering his face with his hands to muffle his uncontrollable laughter as you swallow. His laugh is so warm, harmonious, and comforting that you can’t help but giggle along, wiping the corner of your mouth with a napkin.

“Stop,” you try to grumble, but the attempt only sharpens Suguru’s laugh, and soon both of you are swept up in uncontrollable laughter.

An hour later, you’ve finished your meal and your Coke — and even Suguru’s, who insisted he wasn’t hungry. It seemed odd, but his sincere smile reassured you. So you didn’t question it and asked him to wait outside while you made a quick stop in the restroom.

As you step out of the ladies’ room, two unfamiliar men block your way, stopping you from making a quick exit. You sigh discreetly, hesitant to say you’re in a hurry.

“Well, hey there, cutie,” growls one, a short, stocky guy.

“We saw you heading to the restroom all alone, thought you looked pretty cute,” adds his taller, leaner friend. “So if you’re interested, wanna spend the evening with us?”

Is this really Wario and Waluigi standing in front of you?

You swallow nervously. “Oh, sorry, I’m waiting for someone, so that won’t be possible,” you say politely, forcing a smile.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?”

“My…” You search for the right words, even though the answer is obvious. “Friend.”

“Your friend?” the shorter man presses. “Maybe we could help you find him, huh? We’ve even got a nice car to take you in.” His smile reveals teeth stained dark by tobacco, sending a shiver of dread down your spine.

“I can find my own way, but thanks for the offer,” you say, taking a few steps to slip between the two men. “Have a good even—”

“Hold on there, not so fast!” the lean man cuts you off, any hint of friendliness gone in an instant. “Who said you could leave?”

The shorter man clicks his tongue in agreement, narrowing his eyes dangerously as your heartbeat races faster with panic. “Yeah! We need some company tonight, so you’re either coming with us, or else—”

“Or else what?”

Suguru’s hands rest firmly on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Suguru, you—” Just turning halfway and looking up, you recognize his unforgettable form, and your heart nearly stops.

“You okay, princess?” Suguru murmurs, his neck bent so close to your shoulder that he could practically nibble your neck or playfully bite your ear. One small nod from you is all he needs before he carefully releases you and positions his body as a shield between you and the two men.

Even from behind him, you can feel his chilling smile.

“Gentlemen, shall we continue this conversation outside?”

“Phew!” Suguru exhales, brushing off his hands as you both leave the restaurant ten minutes later.

“W-What happened to those two guys?” you can’t help but ask, trying not to shiver in the biting cold that hits you the second you step outside.

“Nothing special,” he answers vaguely, smoothly slipping off his sleek black leather jacket and draping it over your shoulders. It’s cold to the touch. “Put it on—I don’t want you catching a chill.” His minty breath brushes against your cheek.

“No need, really. It’s already very kind of you to—”

“Don’t thank me, alright?” Suguru opens the passenger side door of your car, gesturing for you to get in. And before you can protest, he hushes you. “Nope, I’m driving tonight.”

“Aren’t you overdoing the chivalry thing?” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as you settle into the passenger seat while Suguru rests his hands on the wheel.

“Better too much than too little, right? You complaining, or am I imagining things?” he chuckles, and you sigh, rubbing your arms against the cold that his jacket doesn’t quite keep out. “You’re cold?”

You nod slightly, and he reaches for the heat controls at the same time you do, and for an instant, your hands brush against each other.

And a strange, unpleasant feeling washes over you.

Suguru pulls his hand back, looking tense and stiff, his gaze fixed intently on the road. You turn the heat up by yourself and sink into your seat.

“Your… hand’s freezing,” you murmur, daring only to glance at him with your eyes, not turning your head fully. “Are you sure you don’t want to take your jacket back?” He doesn’t answer.

The rest of the drive passes in silence, and you can’t shake the question of how a simple brush of hands turned the atmosphere so awkward. It feels as if the air has thickened, like molasses, making each breath slightly difficult.

Once you arrive in front of your house, you both step out of the car, and Suguru hands you your keys as you do.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” he murmurs, matching his pace to yours.

You don’t respond, pulling your house keys out, but you don’t pay attention to the porch steps and stumble. In the next second, you blink.

You didn’t fall.

Two strong arms, heavy and solid as iron, hold you firmly in place.

“You alright?” Suguru’s eyes are fixed on yours, his face far too close, so close that all it would take is for you to lean forward to kiss him.

“Y-Yeah, thanks,” you stammer, taken by surprise.

He steadies you back on your feet, his hand lingering around your waist to make sure you don’t stumble again.

Made of stone.

Suguru steps back, creating a respectable distance, while you fumble with your keys, your hands trembling slightly as you slip one into the lock.

“See you Monday?” you whisper, as though the night amplifies your voice.

“Monday, yes,” Suguru replies with a nod that seems almost… robotic.

~~~~

Two weeks later, neither of you had brought up any details about what happened — whether it was about the two men at the restaurant, Suguru’s icy hands, or his iron-like grip (and at this point, calling it iron was putting it mildly).

Now that you’re friends, it didn’t take long before you both started spending most of your free time together during the week — at the library, in the university courtyard, and sometimes even at cafés.

Your weekends often revolved around working on the DNA extraction project with strawberries, even though using cheek cells seemed more and more tempting. Why? Well, it fit perfectly into the human biology lessons in your course — even if the strawberries did the trick.

Naturally, you started learning more about each other — hobbies, music tastes — and, of course, books.

If there was anything that held you back from finding Suguru’s behavior odd at times, it was that day he sat beside you after a Sunday you’d spent chatting the whole afternoon away about your favorite books without making any progress on your biology project.

From Anne of Green Gables to Twilight, Dracula, Wuthering Heights, or Kafka’s works (Letters to Milena in particular), Suguru had brought every single copy he’d bought that Sunday evening and read them all overnight — something you’d thought impossible to read in such a short time, but Suguru assured you he reads very quickly.

So you believed him.

How could you not, when he found the best way to make your heart race by reading what you loved and showing up ready to discuss it all with you?

If that was his intent, then Suguru was indeed every bit the gentleman he thought himself to be.

“By the way, there’s a frat party happening soon. Are you going to come?” Suguru asks, his head bent over a DNA Ethics Guide textbook.

You’re both in the university library, as silent as a vampire’s heart. Ah, now you’re a poet?

You stop rummaging through your pencil case and glance up at him. “I don’t really know anyone, so—”

“Well, I do, so are you coming?”

You laugh nervously. “No, I don’t want to just crash the party; it’ll be awkward and—”

“I’ll be there, so it won’t be crashing,” Suguru insists, a slight smile playing on his lips as he looks up at you.

The sight takes your breath away.

“Will you let me finish my sentences, for goodness’ sake?” you retort, your cheeks flushing. You lower your eyes to your pencil case to avoid responding.

But his hand finds yours, intertwining his fingers with yours to stop your movements. Your heart, already racing, skips a beat. “Come on, please? It’s not like I’m asking for a lot of favors.”

This time, it’s your whole body temperature that spikes — so much so that your hand, tangled with Suguru’s, becomes a little sweaty, and you gently pull it back toward you.

“I… I’ll think about it, okay?” you mumble, quickly rummaging to find your white-out for no reason and then using it on… absolutely nothing, really.

Because now you’ve forgotten what you were even looking for in your pencil case.

~~~~

“What about seven minutes in heaven?” Satoru Gojo proposes, a student with albino hair and cerulean blue eyes half-hidden behind useless round sunglasses, sporting a mischievous smirk.

“You suggest this every time!” Choso Kamo protests, the emo boy dressed in punk-style clothing, with messy black pigtails. He scrunches his nose in disapproval.

“But it’s the best,” Satoru counters.

The music blasts in every corner of the house where the frat party is taking place. Pink, blue, and fuchsia neon lights color the atmosphere, transforming every hue.

In one corner of the house, a circle has formed with Suguru’s friends. You all sit cross-legged, a few drinks nearby for refreshment, and you can’t help but think it’s one of the best ideas proposed since the beginning.

You’ve stuck close to Suguru since your arrival, which he couldn’t help but tease you about, provoking a blush that no one could see thanks to the neon lights. Plus, he kindly introduced you to his friends, all lovely and inclusive, never leaving you out. But if there was one goat — an animal very representative of him, by the way — among this flock of sheep, it was Satoru.

Outgoing by nature and quick to embrace any event that sparks even the slightest interest, he was the first to take you under his wing — all while Suguru watched cautiously — and show you everything you’d never dared to do at a party.

“What do you think of it, sweetheart?” Satoru whispers as the others debate the topic on their side (some for, others against).

You jump slightly, still not used to him addressing you with such open flirtation. “Um…” You clear your throat, squirming a little in your position. “I’ve heard of it, but what is it exactly?”

“You don’t know? Awww.” He leans in closer so that his lips reach your ear. “The goal of this game is to be locked in a room for seven minutes — a bedroom, a closet, whatever — and you can do whatever you want with the person who’s in there with you.” His breath is as cool as Suguru’s, and when Satoru pulls back, his face remains close to yours. His pale complexion reflects like an entity never seen before. “Clearer now, sweetheart?”

You swallow hard, nodding slowly. “And when you say they can do whatever they want… what does that include? Generally speaking, I mean,” you inquire, sensing a weighty gaze upon you but not knowing where it’s coming from.

Satoru closes the distance between you and wraps an arm around your shoulders. “Well, let’s just say most people kiss, sometimes make out,” Satoru confesses with a sly smile. His scent is as intoxicating as Suguru’s — just like his stone-like embrace. Satoru’s skin — especially his exposed forearms — feels like it’s at the same temperature as the ocean, yet it’s as if a warmth radiates from him regardless. “But…” he brings his lips close to your temple, making you shiver as your eyes scan around, briefly locking with Suguru’s intense gaze on you, “some people find time to go further, if you catch my drift.”

You choke on your own saliva at that moment, and Satoru bursts out laughing.

A few minutes later, a duo emerges from a broom closet, giggling like tipsy people, returning to the circle amid cheers from the others.

Satoru replaces the empty glass beer bottle to spin it in the center, pointing at his next victim — if you could say it like that, since you don’t seem very excited about the game.

And despite that, the wicked bottle stops, pointing its neck at you.

Goddamn it.

A knowing smile spreads across Satoru’s face — he glances mischievously in your direction before spinning the bottle again and quickly sitting back down.

With every turn, the speed used to spin it feels like this simple bottle holds a sentence. Your fate for the next seven minutes.

When it finally slows down and stops, to your greatest…

Relief?

… it points at Suguru.

Satoru pouts a little in disappointment and stands up along with both of you to escort you to the closet, amid cheers of encouragement from the group.

Suguru catches up with a few quick strides, just to whisper to you, “We don’t have to do anything if you’re not comfortable, okay? Just let me know because—”

Satoru cuts him off by shoving you tightly into the narrow broom closet and locking you inside. “And… the countdown begins!” he announces from the other side, his indistinct footsteps fading away.

The air is almost suffocating, the darkness plunging you into an atmosphere anything but reassuring, and especially the impossible closeness between you and Suguru becomes just unbearable.

Your breaths mingle, and when you try to shift positions, your chest brushes against Suguru’s, causing him to clench his jaw. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s… Let’s just say I’m not quite sure what to do here,” you admit, lifting your eyes to him, and God, he could devour you at that moment, the faint light at your feet bringing a tiny spark to your lost doe-like eyes.

“The others will get annoying if we don’t do anything,” Suguru huffs, rolling his eyes before shaking his head. “I guess Satoru explained it to you? We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, okay?” he insists, his tone soft and patient. He closes his eyes for a moment and inhales slightly.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, but I’m a little embarrassed,” you murmur. Then, those previous words start to tease you. “Would it bother you to do something?” you ask nonetheless.

“No, not really,” Suguru chuckles, his perfect teeth glimmering slightly in the darkness. “But we can pretend if you prefer.”

“Pretend?”

“Yeah, just…” Suddenly, he gently takes your wrists and presses them against the wooden wall of the closet, leaning toward your neck, “...pretend.”

You bite your lip to suppress any sound, but you desperately want to make one right now.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers just below your ear, near your pulse.

Your breathing has quickened, matching the beats of your heart, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “No.”

His lips descend to your neck, brushing against your skin, his breath caressing you to the point that you’re on the verge of breaking.

“S-Suguru…”

“Hmm?” He hums, slightly opening his mouth to let his teeth graze just above your trapezius. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to speak, as if two hands were preventing you by squeezing you in the sweetest way.

That’s when he starts placing butterfly kisses on your neck and shoulders, as light as they are burning despite the icy temperature of his lips against your volcanic skin. “You have such soft, tender skin, princess,” Suguru murmurs in a breathy whisper, continuing his feather-light kisses that unintentionally make you emit a small hum revealing your inner turmoil. He chuckles softly, the sound so pleasant that it sends a pulse through your core. “If I were a vampire, I would have devoured you by now,” he teases ironically.

You freeze. “Suguru?” you whisper, your brows slightly furrowed.

“Princess?” he replies in the same tone, his lips moving down to your collarbone, dotting it with sweet, intoxicating kisses.

Unable to resist the temptation, Suguru discreetly slips out his tongue and licks a strip of your bare skin, which begins to unravel you — your mouth unable to hold back an adorable moan that drives Suguru wild.

His canines painfully extend from their gums, their tips so close to your soft, warm flesh, filled with blood he has never craved so much, but he knows he cannot. Yet it’s almost impossible for him to resist, not when your little rapid breaths tickle his shoulder, when you seem so small and vulnerable in his arms, and when your pulse races to the point that his ultra-developed hearing cannot ignore it as it usually does. So what is he to do? He inches closer and closer, his canines just millimeters away from sinking into your neck—

“Seven minutes are up!” Satoru announces as he inserts the key into the lock — just enough time for you both to pull away from each other and for Suguru’s painful canines to retreat back into his gums.

Your face has never been so warm in your life.

~~~~

That evening, after returning home without any issues, you collapsed onto your bed, alone, faced with the only thoughts occupying your mind — Suguru Geto.

Oh Lord.

If he hadn’t been real, this man would have been your fantasy day and night.

But after what happened in that infamous broom closet, you can no longer see Suguru the same way.

Not after he somehow showed you how he could desire you.

How he could protect you.

Your thoughts become tangled, and you can no longer distinguish what your brain imagines and what it remembers.

Between the two strange men in the restaurant who suddenly assaulted you and the feeling that everything spins like a black spiral, blinding you, or the man who faces you in the dark corridor of what seems to be a gothic mansion.

He extends his hand, and you step forward to take it. It’s pale, cold, and as hard as stone. It pulls you toward him, drawing you against him, his smooth white mask waiting to be removed.

So that’s what you do, your hands gently pulling at the mask to reveal what lies behind, but the face that emerges makes you want to scream.

Suguru’s head faces you, his canines protruding and stained with blood, along with the contours of his mouth.

You try to scream, to flee, to do anything, but your body seems no longer willing to respond to your brain, as if paralyzed — and Suguru only leans closer to sink his fangs into the soft, warm flesh of your neck before—

You wake up with a start, sitting halfway up in your bed, your body slick with cold sweat and your panicked eyes searching for Suguru as if it were a vital need.

It may sound crazy, but you need him.

You have to check.

~~~~

“Do you prefer scrambled, fried, or omelet eggs?”

In Suguru’s kitchen — decorated in a rather modern style with black and white furniture, but with a touch of vintage or gothic (anyway, you weren’t good at decorating, so whatever) — the smell of heating oil fills the air, eliciting a growl from your stomach.

“Scrambled, but well-cooked,” you reply as he hums and grabs three eggs to crack over the heated pan.

While his back is turned, you rise as casually as possible, trying not to look too suspicious as you pretend to peek at what he’s cooking. Suguru glances sideways at you but smiles slightly, tucking a rebellious strand of your hair behind your ear.

Since then, you haven’t talked about the frat party at all, as if nothing had happened, in fact. At least from Suguru’s side.

From your side, you can’t forget how he planted kisses on your neck, how he licked your collarbone until you moaned, and you realize that if he had continued without interruption, you would have surely agreed to go further, just as Satoru had mentioned.

You stop drifting into your thoughts and wrap your hand around the fridge handle, and Suguru turns his head towards you, knitting his brows.

“I want to drink water,” you say, opening the fridge to take a look, expecting to find jars or bottles of blood but…

…nothing.

Now that’s a bit disappointing.

There’s just nothing in Suguru’s fridge, aside from the door leading into its depths.

You turn to him, confused. “Why is your fridge empty?” you ask.

Suguru pauses for a moment before responding, his hands busy finishing your scrambled eggs. “I prefer to order food when I can.” His tone is neutral, neither cold nor dry, just lacking any openness to guess anything, which begins to irritate you.

“Not even water?”

“You ask so many questions,” Suguru sighs, a slight smile on his lips but with no malice.

“I’m just worried that my friend isn’t eating well or that he has an eating disorder,” you lie, your heart racing even more because how is it possible that, aside from the small box of eggs on the counter, he doesn’t even have water? “Do you drink tap water? It’s not very good for your health, you know—”

Suguru adds a pinch of salt to the well-cooked eggs in the pan using a small salt shaker and throws you another sideways glance, but without a smile this time. “Why are you panicking?” he suddenly asks, his voice rough and low.

“What? No, I’m not panicking, I—”

“Then why are your cheeks red? I can even hear your heartbeat racing,” he retorts, and you freeze slightly — because he’s speaking the truth, a truth that only you should be able to utter.

“It’s because of the heat in the kitchen and also because you’re avoiding my questions, Suguru,” you persist. “And what do you mean by ‘hearing’ my heartbeat, huh?”

Now it’s Suguru who looks taken aback. “Stop saying nonsense, you just sound silly. It’s an expression,” he justifies, the expression on his face twisted in a frustration you seem to understand.

He places your eggs on a plate and turns his head away from you. So you muster your courage, and to hell with it if you wet yourself.

“Suguru, I don’t know how to react now,” you admit, your voice low and uncertain. “You act so strangely sometimes that I have questions, but it seems so stupid that I feel like I’m going crazy…” A knot tightens in your throat.

Suguru turns to you, and his slightly harder gaze from a few seconds ago softens. “What are you thinking?” he murmurs, so softly and kindly that you feel he won’t judge you.

“I just… I sometimes feel like…” You look away, stepping back a little. “You don’t act like everyone else and…”

“And…?” Suguru presses, pulling a glass of water from the cupboard.

You feel your face turning as red as it did at the frat party and admit, raising your voice slightly due to uncontrollable embarrassment, “You look like a vampire, seriously!”

A silence follows.

Then Suguru turns to you. “Are you afraid of vampires?” He chuckles, teasing you.

“No, but you’re acting strangely and—”

“And so you think I’m a vampire?” he cuts you off, losing all trace of joy.

And now, he catches you off guard, making you stutter like never before. “No— well, yes, but— not really…”

“Well,” he mumbles, returning to your plate and glass to set them on the kitchen table, “who knows?”

Your complexion turns pale.

“Tell me, princess, if I were really a vampire — not a bad one, but a vampire nonetheless — would you accept me?” Suguru now approaches you quickly, cornering you against the wall behind you as you stupidly step back.

Only your frightened eyes meet his, and his obsidian gaze scrutinizes you. “It all depends on whether you want to kill me or harm me,” you breathe.

“And what if that weren’t my intention as a vampire, that I cherished you like Edward Cullen did with his Bella, hmm?” He takes your wrist to bring it to his lips and smells — but what scent? “That I love you and protect you?”

“You would drink blood… right?”

“Would you let me taste yours?” Suguru’s teeth hold your trembling wrist firmly as they hover just above your tendon, his gaze locked onto yours. “Just a sip, perhaps? It’s harmless.”

“I don’t know, Suguru… Are you a bad vampire?”

“No, darling, I would be the good vampire you would want me to be.” Suguru grins, releasing your wrist to cage you in his arms, his mouth too close to your neck, and his cool breath sending shivers all over your body. “May I?”

Your disoriented arms wrap around him, and you resign yourself to closing your eyes before nodding gently without knowing why.

“Are you sure, princess?” Suguru purrs in your ear. “It won’t hurt, I promise.”

“Go ahead,” you murmur, the blood pounding in your ears and your heart racing.

Suguru deliberately takes his time, planting a multitude of butterfly kisses on your skin, licking the area he undoubtedly wants to bite just to hear you pant softly in his ears.

He finally parts his lips, brushing his painful, protruding canines, ready to drink your blood.

Slowly, gently, and with the utmost delicacy, his fangs sink into the flesh of your neck.

You expected to feel pain, to scream, shout, and even struggle, but the only sensation is pleasure.

With every passing second, you feel a flow of blood circulating where Suguru bites you. It almost tickles, if you weren’t softly gasping and stifling whimpers.

It’s as if with each pull, a pulse of pleasure shoots directly to your core.

Until it becomes unbearable, your body writhing gently in any attempt at friction. Suguru feels it, of course, because after pulling his teeth from your flesh, he slightly straightens to admire you, your lips parted but in a pleading pout.

As for him, his lips hold the gulp of blood he just took from you, but he keeps his mouth tightly closed — because he knows the sight might disgust you. Then, a few long moments later, Suguru smiles at you, his long canines pristine once again.

You glance at your neck reflexively, and it’s as if he bit you without slicing your flesh. Your skin is smooth, with only two purplish holes visible. It looks like the wounds are in the process of healing.

Wonder fills you, and you wrap your arms around Suguru, who quickly does the same before you surprise him by kissing him directly.

His lips — despite their hard coldness — are soft against yours, moving slowly against your eager mouth, as desirous as you are.

Between kisses, you whisper, “How long have you desired my blood?”

“Since the first experience,” Suguru replies softly, his mouth devouring yours as you try to insert your tongue. “Not too far, my love, they’re sharp.” And you guess he’s talking about his teeth.

You pout. “I want you.”

Suguru presses his lips together, breaking the kiss. “Sure? I thought you were scared but I think I can control myself, and… don’t you want to ask me questions? It would be strange if you didn’t have any, after all.”

“We can do that later; I just want you right now,” you mumble, burying your face in his neck. “I’m I’m not afraid anymore.”

Suguru’s large hands slowly slide down your back and stop at your waist, gently gripping you. “So, you’re accepting me?”

You slightly turn your head toward him, your lips brushing against his jaw. “I’ve always dreamed of vampires — but they were still just dreams.”

Suguru exhales. “I can’t give you an Edward Cullen, but I can be the vampire of your fantasies. So will you accept me, my love?”

“Yes,” you whisper.

~~~~

“Ah— you’re teasing, Sugu—”

Muffled words reach your ears, but they are incomprehensible, as the vampire making you wet literally has his head buried between your legs, devouring your pussy like a starved man.

He lifts his head to look at you, and a smile lights up his features, his chin dripping with your wetness. “You can’t handle a little teasing, baby?” he coos, the tip of his tongue circling around your puffy clit in a torturous motion that makes you whine.

You pout, gasping when he pinches the little bud between his lips. “But I want you, now,” you insist.

“But I need to get you ready for me,” he responds, his hands placing themselves on your inner thighs to pin you against the mattress, laying you bare before him. He continues to wickedly tease you with the tip of his tongue against your clit and between your soaked folds.

“S’not fair,” you protest, your legs trembling softly on either side of his head like a little animal.

“Your beauty isn’t fair, that’s the point, yeah.” Suguru climbs over your body, one hand sneaking around your neck and the other sliding between your thighs to tease your dripping intimacy. He presses his mouth against your ear. “Do you know how badly I’ve struggled to not devour you?”

His whisper so close makes you gasp, as the sensation is far too pleasant and uncomfortable in the best way — breath as cold as it is warm, as he inserts a finger inside you.

“Hmm, baby?” You try to respond, but only a pathetic whimper escapes. He pushes his finger gently but surely deeper until he reaches your g-spot, and your back arches.

“Sugu,” you whine.

“You didn’t answer, princess,” he purrs, licking the shell of your ear. And he starts to pump his finger inside you, your walls clenching around his digit, warming his cold finger as he finger-fucks you in earnest. “Haven’t you seen how badly I was burning for you?”

“I— Not at the s-start,” you pant, bucking your hips toward his finger, and the more he whispers his dirty talk in your ear, the closer you feel yourself reaching your climax.

“Not at the start? And when we were in that broom closet? Weren’t you at my mercy like the little mortal that you are, almost whining because you have this dirty voice kink?” He adds another finger into your abused cunt, sinking his thick fingers to the hilt.

You squirm under him and try to respond. “M’sorry, Suguru, I just need you to—”

“To what, darling?” He pumps his fingers as teasingly as his voice, knuckle-deep and fast. “Tell me how badly you want to cum, can you do that for me?” Your sweet pussy squeezes his fingers, almost spasming because you need more, but he doesn’t allow you until you’re stretched enough to take him after that.

“I w-want to cum on— Hngh, please—” You throw your head back on the mattress, mouth agape from the unstoppable moans leaving your sweet lips. “C-Cum on your fingers, please.”

“That’s good, baby, you’re doing good,” he praises, kissing your ear, temple, cheek, and then lips. He drives his fingers deep into your depths and curls them just as you tighten around them, releasing the knot in your belly to let your juices flow.

His cold thumb joins your clit to rub gently until you ride your orgasm.

“Good job, baby, you did perfect.” Suguru straightens up, pulling his fingers from you to taste your fresh juices around his fingers while you watch with drooping eyelids and half-closed eyes. Suguru then leans in to kiss you, gently at first, knowing you’re still a little weak, then he inserts a bit of his tongue without ever crossing your teeth, fearing to hurt you.

You softly break the kiss and kiss his jaw, which makes him sigh softly. “Sugu? I have a question.”

He chuckles softly. “What did I tell you about questions?” He strokes your hair soothingly, laying down beside you. “But ask away.”

“Your entire body is cold, so it means that blood doesn’t flow through your veins, right?” you start.

“Right.”

“So, how can you be hard?” You slip a hand down his pants to palm his erection through the fabric. Your cute face almost makes his dead heart throb. “It’s funny, though,” you giggle.

“It’s hard to explain but, do you know how Edward made love to Bella?” Suguru asks, kissing your cheek as you unzip his pants.

“It wasn’t really described, but,” you pause, “was he hard?”

“Sure he was, like I am right now for you,” he mutters. Your palm wraps around his now free, throbbing erection, and your warmth electrifies a rush of pleasure through his cold flesh. You climb between his legs and lower your head so you can lap at his tip — dripping with his pre.

“Princess, be careful with—” He interrupts himself, letting out a groan to stifle a moan, which makes you laugh softly. “Tease,” he groans.

“Uh-huh.” You envelop his pale tip and suck gently, reducing Suguru to a panting and needy thing. Your fingers play with his balls, and he clenches his hands into fists, hissing between his teeth.

“Baby, be careful, you don’t know how badly I can hurt you if I don’t control at least how my body reacts to your touch, so don’t take me in your— Dear Lord,” he groans again. You see and feel the way he forces his hips to stay still against the matress to not pierce your palate with his length, much harder than usual. So you suck him slowly, carefully, not to surprise his body and give him the head you want him to feel — he even deserves it.

You withdraw his twitching dick from your mouth and grin, warming it up with your hands as he feels free to buck his hips and fuck your fist earnestly this time. “You’re so beautiful like this, aren’t you?” you praise, playing with his balls as he whines.

His long black hair sprawls across the immaculate sheets, his eyelids squinted and pleading, and his perfect lips slightly parted to let out the most divine sounds. Suguru is truly the vampire you’ve always fantasized about since your first reading on vampires.

“I’m close, sweetheart,” Suguru tells you, reaching out his arm to cup your chin and make you lift your eyes to his. “I want to cum inside you, if you would let me.” And God, how can you say no to that perfect immortal angel?

And so it is that you end up lying on the mattress, your belly exposed, your naked and heated body pressed against Suguru’s icy one, which you can’t wait to warm up.

He settles between your thighs, wrapping them around his waist before leaning down to pull you into his arms, shielding you with his stone muscles as your breasts gently crush against his cold chest, hardening your nipples, and he feels it — dragging one of his hands to it and pinching softly, just enough to make you whimper his name.

He presses his mouth against your ear again and whispers dirty words, “Ready to take my cock, princess? I won’t break you, promise. At least not yet.” And he brings his tip against your wet slit, pressing flesh against flesh to tease you until the end.

“You bast—” and he cuts you off with a kiss, pushing his tip to the very entrance of your delicious walls, ready to take him with every inch. You kiss him back, licking his lips eagerly.

“You’ll take it inch by inch, okay? It’s cold, so I need you to be comfortable with a suitable temperature,” Suguru warns you between heated kisses. “Ready?” He pulls his lips from yours to place them against your sensitive ear — on the way, he leaves a gentle hickey, enough to leave a reddish mark.

Tenderly, he sinks into you, the first inch greeted by your parted folds, greedy to take more of him.

“One inch,” Suguru says, waiting for you to adjust. “Is it alright down here?”

“Y-Yeah, I just need more, I want you whole.” You place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, trying to ignore how you tighten around his dick when he whispers in your ear.

“Two inches,” he exhales then curses under his breath. “Fuck, you’re so wet, and how can you be this tight?” As he gently inserts the third and fourth inches, Suguru feels like he could crack at any moment, overwhelmed by the desire to bury himself deep inside your sweet, gorgeous pussy.

The fifth, sixth, and seventh inches are taken easily by your tightness, filling the room with your two uncontrollable gasps and the heat radiating from your body, which warms so much that when Suguru starts to fuck you gently at first, you think you might melt at any moment and see stars.

He rails into you so deep and fast that he curses under his breath. “Fuck, you’ve taken the eighth inch.” He groans at the same time as you, as you take him so well that he reaches the bottom, his tip kissing your g-spot even better than his fingers did earlier.

“Oh, fuck! S’too much, Sugu, and too deep,” you moan, and it only makes his dick throb harder than it was when you stroked him.

Because with every thrust or stroke, the two of you feel overwhelmed and overstimulated at the same time. He withdraws almost entirely to slam back into you, not too hard but enough for your toes to curl and you to cry out.

“I’m already close, Suguru, please, I wanna cum.” And Suguru chuckles softly, thrusting into you harder and faster than he was already doing. Now, his tip hits your sweet spot with every stroke, coaxing sounds from you that he dreams of hearing.

“Cum on this cock, baby, you can do it,” he coos in your ear, making you clench around him, intertwining your fingers with his. He takes one of your legs to lift it over his shoulder and buries himself deeper inside you, and you press a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming.

“I’m close, I’m gonna—” But you cry out again against your palm, cumming hard and loud on his dick, your velvety walls twitching and spasming as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm — your eyes shutting as you see stars.

As you come down from your high, Suguru slows his pace and stays inside you, lying down next to you. “You alright?”

And you nod feebly, throwing a leg over his waist to sit on him and take him deeper. You gently lower your head, admiring your juices flowing from your cunt. “Your turn now.”

And you ride him carefully, taking his hands in yours to place them on your hips, letting him lead the pace with you. “You’re beautiful,” Suguru murmurs, his obsidian eyes shining with devotion. He flutters them closed, humming, groaning, and sometimes whining when you bounce on him too well, and he’s about to cum.

You gently lay down on him as he lifts his hips in sync, gripping your waist to take over and help him cum — which he succeeds in doing, and the sensation is so surprising and pleasant that you moan softly along with him, your adorable faces scrunching up in pleasure.

His load is warm, neither cold nor hot. It’s as if you’ve warmed his dick so that it’s no longer cold.

Your cheek rests against the coolness of his muscular chest, and you sigh in relief. “You’re going to be very useful to me in the summer,” you giggle, placing gentle kisses along his neck.

“Whenever you want, my love.”

~~~~

“I often come here to hunt,” Suguru explains, parting branches in the forest to make it easier for you to pass.

You skillfully slip through and take his hand in yours to warm it up, smiling as you take in the view he’s sharing: a vast plain overlooked by tall, sturdy trees, sinuous riverbanks, and a large waterfall a bit further on, peeking out where your eyes meet the river paths.

“It’s beautiful, Suguru,” you whisper, fluttering your eyes closed as he squeezes your hand.

“Doesn’t it?” He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you affectionately against him. “There’s never anyone here, just beasts. That way, I won’t have any humans to kill,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

“Is it like in Twilight?” you ask, giggling. “But you don’t have brown eyes.”

“No, it’s not the same,” he corrects you. “As long as I have blood, I have no problem. Human or not, it’s really just a matter of taste. It’s sweeter, you know.”

“Do you have a little sweet tooth?” you tease, getting on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek as he steps away from you to bend down so you can climb onto his back.

“Not really, that’s more Satoru,” he laughs, gripping your thighs as you hop onto his back.

“Aha! I knew he was like you; you’re both just as weird as each other,” you snicker, proud to have solved another mystery.

Suguru bursts into laughter, as if your laughter is that of a little child who is also proud of themselves. “Yeah, and he studies physics, you know. He’s not very sharp in school, but physics is really his thing.” He takes a breath — an unnecessary one, since he doesn’t need to breathe; he just does it out of habit to avoid alarming humans — and glances at you discreetly. “Ready?”

You nod, and without further ado, Suguru begins his run.

He runs fast, of course; he’s a vampire.

But so fast, in fact, that you barely feel him taking steps. It’s as if he’s flying across the ground, the wind whipping against your faces. Every now and then, you lower your head, fearing that branches might slice your head off, but Suguru usually warns you when you can admire the scenery whizzing by faster than a car would allow.

When he finally stops, it’s to drop you off on a hill that takes your breath away.

The same one from your favorite book.

The hill is lush with small green grasses, dotted with tiny purple flowers like in a paradisiacal autumn meadow.

“It’s… It’s…” you stammer, amazed by the surprise he just gave you as he carefully sets you down on the ground, making sure you don’t stumble from the peculiar journey.

“For you,” Suguru adds, settling down on the grass as he waits for you to join him.

“Suguru, how did you…?” you trail off, sitting on the grass with an otherworldly appearance.

“I practically live here, to be honest,” he replies, planting little kisses on your neck and collarbone. “I hunt and feed here. And when I’m not feeling well…” He caresses your skin with the tip of his nose, tracing a path to your chest to bury his face there and sigh, his eyelids shut. “...I used to come here. But I don’t need to anymore.”

A smile curls your lips up. Your fingers gently stroke his jet-black hair. “You should turn me one day, you know? That way, I could come hunt with you and—”

“Not a chance,” he mumbles, pressing his ear against your heart. “I don’t want to lose this little heart. It’s mine.”

You huff. “You sound like Edward, seriously…”

“I would never abandon you, that’s for sure, but as for your transformation, it’s far from today.” Suguru places yet another kiss on your chest and then moves down to your belly, trying to find a sensitive spot to tickle you with his perfect touch.

“So I’ll go see Satoru,” you threaten, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Him? He’ll devour you whole without a second thought. I was the one holding him back during the frat party,” Suguru informs you with a little laugh.

“E-Excuse me?”

And it’s under Suguru’s amused laughter that you promise never to approach the albino — as much from afar as up close.

a/n: okay, i litteraly have missed the kinkoctober because of this fic :/ i hope at least you guys will enjoy it <3 (i’m so tiiiiired, tho). but tbh, it was fun to write since it was really during this month that the fic is so it’s like i’m living it :))

next → curse hunter! toji !!

tags: @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobeenhappy-blog @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @cybersomn1a @sanemistar

@ssetsuka @monokaix

the sadness we shared is my clarity ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ↪ fushiguro megumi x reader

summary: it's spring when fushiguro megumi finds you. it's summer when he realizes he loves you. but as the days shorten, and time runs out, megumi realizes you're slipping away.

tw: angst, as per usual. mentions of gore, and sexual tension but nothing explicit or nsfw. you and megumi are both idiots. half of this was churned out in a day so please give the author grace. not proofread. arrangedmarriage!au and friends to enemies to lovers. megumi is Mean. mutual pining, so much that i want to throw up. mmm yummy clan politics

notes: banner by the lovely @/cafekitsune! title taken from txt's deja vu. had this fic rotting in my head and in my drive. dedicated to riko, for being one of the first mooties i ever had. love you @riaki !!

also i'm sorry everyone for vanishing off the face of the earth pls accept this fic as an apology :'))

part one/??

It’s summer, and the air in Kawasaki is miserably hot and oppressive. Tacky skin clings to thick cloth, and Megumi grimaces at the feeling. Gojo had finally decided to send all the first years together on a mission to deal with a group of Grade 3 spirits, deeming his pupils “worthy to finally make their debut!” To celebrate, Nobara had corralled everyone to a small cafe, located near the train station. “Cmon, this place has air conditioning, and Ijichi won’t be here for at least another hour,” she insists, fingers wrapped around the curve of your wrist. Begrudgingly, Megumi follows along, heavy with the knowledge that where you go, he'll follow.

He can’t help but sneak glances over, as you and Nobara fawn over the icy desserts and drinks the cafe has to offer. The soft swoop of your neck is revealed as you lean in closer to peer at the deserts hidden behind the glass. A bead of sweat trickles down into the hollow of your collarbone, and Megumi swallows hard, forcing himself to look away. The flush on his cheeks is from the summer heat, he tells himself. He can’t quite bring himself to believe it. 

“Fushiguro!” you call out, and he forces himself to look at you. “What is it?” 

“Aren’t you going to get a drink?”

Megumi hesitates, before grumbling an affirmative. As the other three move to secure a table, he turns to face the cashier. She seems younger than him by a few years, makeup done even in the hot weather with mascaraed eyelashes batting at him innocently. She misses the proffered bills, running her hand along his, before apologizing a bit breathily. “It’s fine,” Megumi sighs. His thoughts wander as the cashier chatters away mindlessly. You were favoring your right side. Were you injured? Had one of the curses somehow reached you before he could stop them? Your technique had seemed to wane towards the end of the fight. Were you overexerted? Did he have to speak to Gojo about how hard he’d been training you? 

He pulls himself from his thoughts just in time to notice the cashier leaning over the counter, watching him curiously. “Would you like a receipt, sir?” 

“No,” is his curt reply, shoving all of his traitorous thoughts of you deep down inside of himself. The cashier pouts. “If you fill out a survey, you can get five dollars off on your purchase!” 

Megumi can feel himself grimacing. Nobara would kick his ass if he didn’t at least take it and offer it to her. “Fine then.” As he turns back to the table, he scowls at the too-bright smile on Yuuji’s face. “What’s that look for?” 

“Fushiguro, she was totally hitting on you!” 

He swats away the eager high five. “Did the curses fuck with your brain or something?” 

“No, seriously, look at the receipt she gave you!” 

Megumi can feel the heat of your gaze as he unravels the receipt. Under the printed text of “FIVE DOLLARS OFF AFTER SURVEY COMPLETION!” was a line of neatly printed numbers. Scowling, he shoves the offending piece of paper in your direction. “Here. Take it.” 

“I don’t want your leftovers,” you shoot back, eyes blazing, and his traitorous heart wrenches. “It’s not for the number, idiot. Weren’t you and Kugisaki just complaining about spending that much money on drinks? Take the survey and stop whining.” 

He lets himself fall back in the familiar rhythm of bickering with Nobara as she swats at him. He’ll do anything to avoid the way your offended gaze turns thoughtful, how you seem to study his face as he forces himself to continue the lie he’s let himself live. You cannot be his, Megumi thinks desperately, even after the four of you depart the cafe, and after you toss the crumpled up wad of paper into the trash can. Even as you fall asleep in the backseat of the car, head perched onto his shoulder, he fights down the growing panic and nausea. He would rather break his own heart in the process than let you suffer from his affections. 

Cursed, he thinks. There’s a reason his mother passed, his father killed, and his sister stolen away. He’s as cursed as the shadows that seep from his domain with their tendrils that wrap and curl over every inch of light. Megumi has already accepted that the feelings that grow by the day can never be revealed. You, with your sunshine laugh, whose tender hands would always reach for him after a mission. Fushiguro, you’d say, kindly. You’re hurt again. Let me grab the first aid kit. You, with your hands that are soft and gentle, as much as Megumi’s hands are calloused and stained. 

I love you, he finally admits, as he carries you from the car back to your room. Yuuji had an ankle injury, and Nobara couldn’t handle hauling your weight up the stairs leading back to Jujutsu Tech. At least, that’s what he tells himself, as he shifts your weight in his arms, feeling the way you subconsciously pressed yourself closer to him. I love you. Your eyelashes flutter in your sleep, brow crinkling ever so slightly. Gently, Megumi smoothes it over with his thumb. I love you. 

Fushiguro Megumi was by no means a religious man. He’d known that there was no god in the battlefields of a sorcerer, no mercy in the torturous death that only curses could offer. And yet, as he lowers you down to the comfort of your mattress, he finds himself praying. I’ll do anything, he thinks, as he watches you in the depths of your slumber. I’ll give up my body, my soul, my life. Just please let her live. Please let her be happy. 

Please give her someone that could take better care of her than I ever could. 

Fushiguro Megumi found you in the first rainfall of spring. 

You hadn't noticed him, quietly watching the droplets fall on the sakura trees planted near the perimeter of Jujutsu Tech. The edges of your kimono were stained with mud, with a chunk of your haori ripped out on the left side. Megumi frowned. Silk, he noted, and gold. You’re dressed too well to be here, but too oblivious to be a threat. Just to be sure, he let his fingers curl around the handle of one of his tonfas before he spoke. 

“Who are you?” 

Startled, you turned to face him, and his scowl deepened. You were pretty, even with your eyes rounded in shock, and the undignified noise that had escaped you when you realized you weren’t alone. When you told him your name, voice hesitant, Megumi couldn't help but hate the way his heart reacted as you spoke. 

“I’m looking for Gojo Satoru,” you finished, teeth sinking into the plush of your bottom lip as you waited for his response. Megumi swallowed hard.

“A lot of people do.” He kept his tone steady, forced himself not to let the heat in his chest rise to his face. “What’s a Kamo doing here, looking for him?” 

Megumi had heard of you, of course. Gojo had raised him with at least a basic understanding of the three Big Families, and their prominent figures from both the past and present. The half-sister to Noritoshi Kamo, you had been held behind while your elders sent him away to the sister school in Kyoto. Women, Gojo had said, tone playful but eyes cold, are seen as nothing more than breeding stock and political pawns. They’ll probably keep her there until she’s married off. 

Something seems to settle inside you, and Megumi can’t help but watch, ensnared in the web you weave. Your hands smooth over the creases in your kimono as you exhaled, shoulders rounding back. Even covered in grime you radiated elegance, though you were betrayed by the still-skittish look in your eyes. “I’m here to make a deal with him.” 

A few days after the four of you had returned from your assignment in Kawasaki, you realized that Megumi was behaving rather oddly. 

At first, he seemed moody. Tired, you assumed. With promotions coming up, Gojo-sensei had been training the four of you even more rigorously than usual. Your mornings were filled with research, analyzing the few texts that Jujutsu Tech had recovered on cursed techniques that were even remotely similar to your own. The evenings were spent sparring, with thick dust kicked up under the lukewarm breeze, and the faint howls of Megumi’s shikigami in the distance. 

Sighing, you squat down, calling softly into the woods until one of his Divine Dogs trot out, tongue lolling out happily. You can’t help the wistful smile that tugs at your lips as you run your fingers through soft, black fur. They’d taken a liking to you, after you started carrying a few dog treats in your gear to give to them. Megumi had always complained that you spoiled them, babied them too much. You couldn’t help it. You loved his shikigami dearly. 

What did that say about you? The thought makes you lightheaded for a moment. The heat, you think, a bit desperate. It was all the heat. 

“You’re late.” 

You tilt your head backwards, startling at how close he’d gotten to you. He’s dressed for the summer heat, ditching his uniform for something more practical. Linen pants brush by you as he reaches your side, and your heart seems to convulse when you realize you can see the slight ripple of muscle under the fabric of his shirt.  Heat flares in your cheeks and you look away. Stormy eyes study you, a flicker of something predatory passing through them before he turns to his shikigami. 

“And you. Stop running off like that.” 

The Divine Dog whines, and you crinkle your nose, turning back to meet his gaze. “I was calling for it because I couldn’t find you. You weren’t where we normally spar.” 

“Gojo wanted us to use the other fields.” 

“Fine, fine.” Petulant, you reach for his wrist, hoisting yourself up off the ground. Before you can even speak, he’s tearing it from your grasp as though you’ve burnt him. “Hurry up. We’re losing light.” 

You follow after him quietly, ignoring the sting in your hand from the phantom contact. He’s probably overwhelmed with the work we’ve been doing, you remind yourself, yet you can’t help the slight feeling of dread that runs up your spine. His dog noses at your palm, whining softly, as thought it can sense your distress. Its owner however seems none the wiser. 

“Why did you want to spar today? Didn’t Gojo-sensei say we could take today off?”  

“The next mission is the one that the higher-ups are sending us on to see if we should be recommended for a higher grade. That means it’s going to be more dangerous than usual.” 

The trees clear to reveal a clearing, grass matted down from hours of sparring. “I hate when you’re right.” 

Megumi spares you a sharp glance but says nothing else. “Warm up quickly. I want to be back before it gets dark.” 

You stretch out under the waning light, letting your technique run through your body for a few moments. Cheating, Yuuji would insist, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t eager for a fight. The upcoming mission loomed over you, anxiety building as you thought about the uncertainties of it all. You hadn’t trusted the higher-ups from the beginning, and you especially didn’t trust them in any circumstance where Itadori Yuuji’s life was at risk. You exhale, feeling the familiar buzz of your cursed energy flow as you move. “Okay. I’m ready.” 

Sparring with Megumi feels like a dance, more than anything else. He was your partner long before Yuuji and Nobara had even transferred to Tokyo, and your body has been trained to move as seamlessly with him as possible. Every step forward he takes you step back, and with each swing of the staff, your katana rises up to meet up. You lose yourself in it for a moment, watching the way his jaw clenches in concentration, eyebrows furrowed as you narrowly avoid a pointed elbow. A sharp jab of your blade, and Megumi is suddenly right in front of you. The air leaves your lungs in his presence taking in the scent of his laundry detergent and the slightest tinge of the soap he uses. He takes advantage of your distraction to disarm you, flipping you neatly into a hold. 

“Yield,” he says, pressing his knee down into your stomach a little more firmly. You try your best to ignore the sight of him kneeled between your legs as you try to kick out from under him. His eyes darken at the sight of you, pinned and struggling to free yourself. 

“Yield,” he says, once more, and you do, letting your body rest against the ground as you stare up at him. There’s a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, the veins of his slender hands raised as he holds his staff. You let your hand curl against the wood of it, feeling the pressure of it resting on your throat. 

“I yield,” you say, and in that moment you know that you have. Fushiguro Megumi has stolen your heart from the day you met him. I’d give you everything, you realize, as Megumi helps you to your feet. There are 35 trillion blood cells in the human body, and every single one of them runs for you. You let your fingers intertwine with his for the briefest moment before forcing yourself to pull away. I would do anything to have you. My greatest sin and my holiest salvation wrapped into a single body. 

“That was a good fight,” he tells you, taking your silence for sulking. Maybe I wanted to lose. Maybe I did want to fall for you. Would that be such a sin? 

“Thanks,” is your stilted answer, the setting sun sealing your fate. You’re in love with Fushiguro Megumi. And you don’t quite know what to do about it. 

The mission is simple enough, until it isn’t. An abandoned hospital, Ijitchi had said in the car ride over. Residual curses had been spotted clinging to the interior, feeding off of an unknown source within. Intel had suggested that it was a Grade 2 spirit at most. You watch as Nobara takes a bit too much pleasure in nailing the swarms of weak curses that had greeted you at the entrance, Yuuji laughing at how easily his fists send them to a rather unpleasant demise. Yet, you can’t shake the feeling of unease that settles over you. This is too easy for a promotion mission. What were they hiding? 

Then Megumi opens the doors to what would’ve been the emergency room, and all hell breaks loose. 

Bloodstains, bright red, catch your eye first. They’re splattered all over the room, on the floor, curtains, and on the hospital sheets yellowed with age. You see the bones next. Human; skulls, ribcages, femurs, all picked clean and white enough to shine under the fluorescent lighting. The light flickers. A tumorous mass sits in the center of the room, a conglomeration of hair, teeth, and eyes that blink slowly at you. Your spine stiffens, and immediately, you pull Megumi towards you as a ropelike strand of hair tightens around the spot where he was standing. 

Those fuckers. A Semi-Grade 1? 

“Megumi,” is all you can make out. In the hallway, you can hear something more menacing, something equally as terrible as what sits in the room inside with you. You can hear Nobara’s cry of pain as a nauseating crack rips through the air. They won’t survive without him. “I’m sorry.” 

His eyes widen in understanding a fraction too late as you gather all your energy and shove him back out into the corridor as the curse flings a file cabinet at you. It crashes into the door, and you can hear Megumi calling your name with something that sounds like desperation. The hinges rattle as he throws his weight against it, but the cabinet holds firm. When you turn to face the curse in front of you, the look in its eyes is amused as you draw your blade. A cavernous maw opens, splitting it down the center as misshapen lumps of flesh spill out. Smaller curses, remnants of the innocents it had lured and devoured. A sudden chill goes through your body. 

This isn’t a Semi-Grade. This is a full-fledged Grade 1. 

There’s something vicious in the way you move, tearing through cursed spirits as though they’re paper. Ichor stains the ground around you, as red as the blood you channel through your veins. Dimly, you think you’re screaming. It was a set up, you think desperately. Of course the higher-ups would try to kill Itadori Yuuji at any cost. They didn’t give a fuck about you, or Nobara, or Megumi. Fury fills the cavern of your chest as you lunge for the hulking Grade 1, as it grotesquely pushes out the corpse of one of its victims into something far more sinister. You rip it to shreds without a second thought. 

The sound of steel on flesh makes the hair of your arms rise as you finally manage to cut a nasty gash into the misshapen curse in front of you. It howls in pain, tendrils reaching for your body as you leap away. Instead, the tendrils open the serrated wound a bit further, opening a new pocket for its children to crawl out of. That was the first blow you’d been able to land; ten minutes have passed since you trapped yourself inside a room with it. Will you make it out alive? You shake the thought away angrily.

Gritting your teeth, you increase your blood flow, shooting it down to your legs and the fibers of your muscles. Your blade shines as it cuts down curses, the Grade 1 merely watching with a demeanor that you can only describe as bored. It’s toying with you, you realize, but what pricks your heart isn’t fear, but resignation. Your foot catches on the rubble for only a moment, and the Grade 1 moves, slamming you into the wall with enough force for you to feel your ribs shatter. Blood fills your mouth and you choke, lungs heaving. Punctured, your technique tells you, a liter gone. The air tastes like iron and salt, and you realize with a start that you’re dying. 

You feel oddly calm as the world spins, watching as the ropes of hair approach your prone body. The last thing you see is the door shattering open, and the look in Megumi’s eyes as he sees you. There’s terror in his normally stoic expression, his arm outstretched towards you as Nue dives for you. Nobara and Yuuji are moving, but all you can see is him. His hands are bloodied at the fingertips, as though he’d been clawing at the door with his own hands to pry it open, his lips moving soundlessly. There’s a dull ringing in your ears, the toll of death that signals your end. His hand cups your face, and you allow yourself to lean into it for a moment, reveling in the touch. I could die like this, is your final thought as you succumb to your injuries. I’m happy that you’re holding me, Megumi.

The world around you feels muted, when you finally awaken. Your vision is blurred as you peel your eyelids back, and you wince at the sensation. How long have you been out for? Slowly, the blurred tinges of light start to focus. A lamp, dimly lit to your right on the nightstand next to a pitcher of water and an empty cup. A punctured lung, a liter gone. Your hand drifts to the bandages that wrap your chest, carefully letting your cursed technique scan your body. A few lacerations, but for the most part you were fine. Crisp sheets rustle as you sit up, examining your surroundings. The hospital in the infirmary. Somehow, they managed to bring you back. 

Megumi’s eyes, so desperate and lost as his hand reached for you. 

You try not to think about it, as you carefully test your body. Your limbs ache, but that’s to be expected. Your hair has been neatly pulled away from your face; Nobara’s work, no doubt. Her screams from behind the door, the dread in your chest when you realized they might not survive without Megumi. You watch your fingers shake as you reach for the water, letting it soothe away the pain in your throat. Did she even make it? Did they live? 

The door opens, startling you from your thoughts. Megumi stands in the doorway, hand pushing through his hair. You take a moment to examine him, noting the dark circles under his pale skin, and how his long hair seemed mussed. His eyes scan the room, passing over you before focusing on you with startling clarity. 

“You’re awake.” 

Hesitantly, you nod, as he drops into the seat beside you. “Did…did they…”

He cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. “Kugisaki and Itadori are fine.” 

You stare down at your hands, letting the silence wash over you. Yet, you’re dimly aware of how suffocating it feels, how your shoulders were unable to relax even with the knowledge that your friends were alive and safe. Megumi continues to watch you, but before you can say something, anything,  his voice fills the air, terse and clipped. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

Startled, your eyes meet his. “What?” 

“Did you think I was too weak? That I couldn’t handle it just because you’ve been a Grade 2 longer than I have?” The eyes that normally watched you with a hint of affectionate exasperation were cold, and hard. “You behaved recklessly. Did you even think about how it impacted the rest of us? Because of you, Kugisaki broke her leg, and Itadori almost had his arm cleaved off. You did all of that just for the rest of us to find you half dead in a puddle of your own bones and blood.” 

“Stop it,” you whisper, but Megumi’s voice only twists into something far more cruel. “You thought you were being so brave, sacrificing yourself, only to realize that you weren’t that special. You couldn’t even take down that Grade 1 alone. Kugisaki had to save you, even as she was practically screaming from the pain.” 

“Megumi,” you whisper, and he pauses, clearly unused to his name falling from your lips. “Why are you so angry at me?” Your voice breaks ever so slightly and you bite your lip hard enough to taste blood, ashamed at the wetness in your eyes. “Where is this coming from? I don’t understa-” 

He slams his palm against the wooden surface of your bedside table, rattling the drawers. “Are you really that stupid to ask what you did wrong? You fucked up. I thought you were different, but in reality, you’re no better than the rest of your clan, are you? You’re just another filthy Kamo.” 

Your hands shake as you twist them into the off-white infirmary sheets. “What are you talking about?” 

Megumi laughs, but it’s jaded, sharp. “Congratulations. You’re being promoted to a Semi-Grade 1, all because of your little stunt that landed the rest of us into hospital beds. Even though we all had to help you finish it off, they’re only choosing you. I wonder why.” 

“Megumi.” Your voice rises, as your heart finally shatters. “I did it because I thought you would die, you know that. I don’t give a fuck about the politics of the higher ups, or my clan, or even my grade. I just wanted to protect you all. You know that.” 

He rises from the chair next to your side, expression indifferent to the tears that are rolling down your cheeks. “As if I’d believe you.” 

“Megumi,” you call out, desperately, as he walks away. “Megumi!” 

He doesn’t look back, and you’re left alone in the dark with only the moon to bear company as you sob. I don’t understand, you think, deliriously. Can’t you see that I love you? Can’t you see I’d rather die than watch you break in front of me? 

Megumi barely makes it to the lawn before he retches into the bushes. Bile rises in his throat and he squeezes his eyes shut as he replays the moment over and over and over again. For five days, he’d held vigil at your bed. For five days, he realized that your love for him would get you killed. For five days, he’d wrapped his heart in iron, knowing that what he was about to do would break the both of you. I would’ve only gotten you killed, he thinks, numbly. It’s what landed you here in the first place. 

Yet, Megumi can’t stop recalling the exact moment the relief in your eyes had turned into betrayal, how your lips had trembled and your hands shook. Your voice, desperate and pleading, calling his name as he forced his legs to walk away from you. How he can hear your sobs faintly trailing from the windows above, matching the tears that are trailing down his cheeks. 

You’ll hate him forever, he thinks, dazed, as he forces himself onto his feet. You’ll hate him forever, and by god it’ll be the most painful thing he’s ever experienced, but as long as you’re alive he can bear it. As long as he never has to see you there again, laying in a heap of your own blood, eyes dazed and unseeing, he will carry the sins that it takes to keep you alive and away from him. 

I love you. I love you, and I’m sorry that someone like me ever fell for someone like you. I love you so much that the thought of being without me tears me to shreds. I love how you take care of my shikigami like they're your own. I love how every touch you give me heals something that I didn't know I was missing. I love you, and I need you to live more than I need air to breathe.

I love you, and even though I don't think you'll ever forgive me, I'll always follow wherever you go.

“sometimes you’re just hard to love,” you say, looking out into the night sky, with tears in your eyes, an argument pushed you over the edge.

he simply looks at you, despite the breath he was holding, he didn’t want to make your life harder than it was but he couldn’t help it.

“then leave, i’m not stopping you,” his mouth moves faster than his thoughts.

he sees the light leave your eyes as he says that, immediately regretting what he said, swallowing the dry spit in his mouth.

so you do as you’re told, you leave. ‘i’ll apologize in the morning, it’s fine’ your lover thinks to himself. he will never see you again.

OSAMU DAZAI | chuuya nakahara | XIAO | diluc | sanemi shinazugawa | eren yeager | levi ackerman | sasuke uchiha | ban

OH MY LORD NERDJO AS SPIDER-MAN SOMEONE BANG ME IM THE HEAD NOW

PAIRING : Sasuke Uchiha x GN!Reader

GENRE : hurt / comfort

WORD COUNT : 4.7k

SUMMARY : Since childhood, you were Sasuke’s quiet confidant—the one who never chased him, yet never left. When he chose revenge over the village, you were left with only memories and a lingering hope. Now, years later, fate has reunited you. As old wounds heal and emotions resurface, Sasuke is torn between the life he once wanted and the connection he can’t ignore. Will he finally let someone in, or is his heart too hardened by the past?

CONTENT / WARNINGS : emotional themes, grief trauma, abandonment issues, mild angst, slow-burn, heartfelt apologies, character growth, confession, no "y/n” mentioned

SONG : Sweater Weather - The Neighbourhood

Your friendship with Sasuke began in a way that was unspoken, almost inevitable. You both belonged to prominent families, but there was no pressure to “be close” or to constantly seek each other’s company. The bond felt natural—two kids who understood each other’s silence, especially after Sasuke’s life changed forever.

After the Uchiha massacre, Sasuke withdrew from almost everyone, but you kept your distance in a way that felt respectful. You didn’t try to force conversations with him the way others did, and he seemed to appreciate that. You’d sit beside him sometimes in the academy, both of you content to let the quiet settle around you. When you did speak, it was about small things, or questions that didn’t pressure him. Occasionally, you’d ask, “Are you doing okay?” or, “Anything on your mind?” He rarely answered with more than a nod or shrug, but there was a weight in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something he didn’t know how to.

Once in a while, after classes ended or during breaks, you’d train together. Sasuke’s determination was fierce, as if each session was a step toward avenging his clan. He hardly talked about his family, but you noticed the way his expression changed, focused and almost haunted. And when he sat beside you to catch his breath, you’d make an effort to bring some lightness, whether through a quiet observation or a small joke. Sometimes he’d respond with the faintest of smirks, a rare sight that only a handful of people had seen. You might not have broken down his walls, but he trusted you enough to let you be there. That, in itself, was something you cherished.

—

As time went on, and as other classmates like Sakura and Ino developed crushes on Sasuke, your bond with him stayed steady, untainted by infatuation. While others would compete for his attention, you shared a camaraderie that didn’t need grand gestures. It was in the small moments: the shared glances across the classroom, or the way he’d wait an extra second after a sparring match, silently making sure you were okay before nodding and walking away.

Sasuke, in his own way, came to cherish this friendship too, though he’d never say it. He appreciated that you didn’t press for answers, nor did you treat him like a prize. Instead, you were just there, steady and patient, giving him the respect he couldn’t find in others.

When he was placed in Team Seven, and you were assigned to another team, things changed. Yet, there was still that comfort in knowing you’d both be around the village, even if on separate missions. Occasionally, your teams would cross paths on joint assignments, and while he remained his usual reserved self, you noticed a small change in him when he spoke to you. Sasuke would look at you a bit longer, and his tone softened just slightly in a way that wasn’t there with Naruto or Sakura. He wouldn’t admit it, but your presence grounded him, giving him a fleeting sense of normalcy that no one else could provide.

On one particularly difficult mission, your teams had been caught in an ambush. You saw a rare flash of worry in his eyes when you were hit, even though he quickly masked it with his usual stoic demeanor. Later, as the teams rested and regrouped, he’d walked over to where you sat, silently offering a water canteen before looking out into the distance, as if pretending the exchange had never happened. But in that gesture, in that rare flicker of concern, you saw that he cared—even if he didn’t fully understand why.

The day he decided to leave, he sought you out—not under the cloak of night as he would with the others, but in broad daylight. Something about your friendship made him want to give you a proper farewell, even if he wasn’t sure what that farewell should look like. The two of you walked to a quiet part of the village, a place where you’d once trained together as kids.

There was a heaviness in the air, a feeling that you couldn’t quite place. Sasuke’s gaze was distant, but something in his expression seemed conflicted, almost vulnerable.

“Next time we see each other…if that ever happens…” he started, his voice trailing off. The words hung in the air, filling you with a sense of unease.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your heart sinking as you searched his face for answers.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he looked down, an almost guilty expression crossing his face before he straightened, hiding it with a mask of determination. “You’ve always been…someone I trust,” he said, his voice almost inaudible, as if admitting it to himself for the first time.

Before you could ask him what he meant, he reached out, his hand lingering near yours for a moment. His fingers brushed against your wrist, a gesture so small yet filled with a weight you couldn’t understand. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

You opened your mouth to speak, to ask him to stay, but something stopped you. You knew that he had made up his mind. And so, instead, you simply nodded, swallowing the words you wanted to say. “Take care, Sasuke,” you replied, your voice barely holding steady.

He gave you one last look, something like regret flickering in his eyes, before he turned and walked away. You watched him go, realizing only after he’d disappeared from sight that this was his way of saying goodbye.

Later that night, as you replayed his words and his expression over and over, the truth sank in. Sasuke was leaving the village, leaving you—and it hurt. Yet, a small part of you felt honored to be the only one he’d said goodbye to. It was as if he’d left a piece of himself with you, a promise that, no matter how far he went, you’d always hold a place in his life.

You didn’t know how long it would take, or if he’d ever return, but you decided then and there that you’d wait. You’d wait for him, believing that, someday, he’d come back. And until that day, you’d carry his trust like a quiet vow, a reminder of the bond you shared that transcended words.

—

Three years had passed since that quiet farewell, and you’d held onto the memory of it. You didn’t know if you’d ever see him again, but a part of you had always kept hope alive, silently believing he’d return. Then, as fate would have it, during a mission with several of the Konoha 11 to locate Sasuke after his fight with Itachi, you saw him again.

It was a mere glimpse—Sasuke standing there, exhausted but resolute, his form silhouetted against the fading light. Your eyes locked, and time seemed to stop. There was no exchange of words, only a quiet, intense gaze that held unspoken emotions neither of you fully understood. The years of silence fell away, leaving only the remnants of an old, unbroken bond. Sasuke didn’t smile, didn’t offer any sign, but in that moment, something deep inside him stirred—a flicker of familiarity and comfort he hadn’t felt in years.

And as you met his gaze, you felt the same. You didn’t know why, but seeing him there, alive, felt like a missing piece of yourself had returned, even if only for a moment.

—

During the war, Sasuke had seen you again. And this time, he saw a different side of you. Where once you’d been quiet and patient, a steady presence in his life, you now carried a fierceness that impressed him deeply. He watched you fight with skill and determination, handling challenges with calm resilience that rivaled his own. There was something about your confidence, your unyielding spirit in the face of danger, that drew his attention more than he’d admit.

He’d thought of you as the person who’d always been there, waiting in silence, yet now he saw you as so much more. A subtle respect had grown within him, and while he’d never voice it aloud, a part of him admired your strength, your growth, and the way you’d found your own place in the world, even without him.

In his mind, he couldn’t help but acknowledge it: You’ve become incredible…in ways I never expected.

—

It was after the war, after everything had finally ended, that you saw him again. He’d just come from the hospital, signs of fatigue in his features, but his gaze was clearer than you’d ever seen it. The two of you met by chance outside, and there was a moment of silent recognition as he nodded toward the path beside you, a quiet invitation.

You walked together in the growing twilight, the orange hues of the sunset casting long shadows around you as the last light dipped below the horizon. It was a familiar quietness, like so many moments from years ago, but this time, the air was charged with something heavier, something unresolved.

Finally, Sasuke stopped, looking away as he took a slow, measured breath. “I…,” he began, his voice rough, uncertain. “I owe you an apology.” He looked down at his hands, almost as if searching for the right words, his expression unreadable but tense.

You stayed silent, letting him gather his thoughts. He was never one to speak easily, especially about matters so close to the heart, and you knew he needed the space to work through this on his own.

“I was…cold,” he continued after a moment. His voice softened slightly, as if the admission took him by surprise. “Back then, I never… I never tried to explain myself. To anyone. Especially not to you.”

There was a brief pause, and he looked away, frustration crossing his face. “I don’t know how to say this,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. Then, after a moment, he turned his gaze toward you, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “But I knew you were different. I knew I could…count on you. And I still left.”

Your chest tightened, emotions flooding in at the sound of his words. “Sasuke,” you whispered, unsure if you wanted him to continue or stop altogether.

He held up a hand, his gaze intense as he looked at you fully. “Let me finish,” he said, his tone gentler but still firm. “I’ve been thinking…about all of it. About how much you put up with. All the times you tried to help me, tried to understand me, and I never gave you a real answer.”

You could see the faintest hint of guilt in his eyes, a weight he’d carried, even if he didn’t fully understand why. “When I left,” he continued slowly, “I told myself it was for revenge, that nothing else mattered. But that last day, when I saw you…” He trailed off, searching your face as if looking for understanding. “It felt…wrong. Leaving you behind. I couldn’t explain it, not then. But it bothered me.”

You swallowed, feeling the lump in your throat. “Then why did you leave without a real goodbye?” you asked softly, your voice wavering.

Sasuke’s gaze dropped, his expression unreadable. “I thought…if I said more, if I tried to explain myself, I’d be too weak to actually go,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “And I thought I had to be strong, to cut all ties. But it wasn’t that simple. You were the only one I said goodbye to. And even then, it…haunted me.”

For a moment, the silence stretched between you, filled with years of unspoken words. You could see the conflict in his expression, the way he struggled to put his emotions into words. “I didn’t realize how much I’d hurt you by leaving,” he continued, his voice almost a whisper. “And now, I know…I can’t change what I did. But I needed to say I’m sorry.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words, at the raw honesty you’d never seen from him before. “I was hurt, yes,” you admitted, fighting back tears. “I didn’t understand why you had to go, or why you couldn’t trust me enough to tell me. But I knew you had reasons. And despite everything, I forgave you long ago.”

He looked at you, surprise flickering in his eyes. “You forgave me?”

You nodded, a small, bittersweet smile crossing your face. “I figured, if I kept holding onto the hurt, it would only make things worse. And…I believed in you, Sasuke. Even if you didn’t say it, I felt like you cared. That was enough.”

He seemed to struggle with your words, almost uncomfortable with the weight of your forgiveness. “You always were too understanding,” he murmured, a hint of self-deprecation in his tone.

“And you were always too stubborn,” you countered gently, a soft laugh breaking the tension. “But that’s who you are.”

A faint, almost reluctant smile tugged at his lips. He looked away, as if the emotions were too much to bear. “I never…expected you to wait. For me to come back,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped closer, looking up at him, catching the brief flicker of uncertainty in his gaze. “It’s alright. You’re here now.”

Sasuke let out a quiet breath, his gaze softening. “Thank you,” he said, the words simple yet filled with meaning. It was as if, in that small phrase, he was saying everything he couldn’t put into words—the regret, the gratitude, the unspoken connection that had kept you tied to each other all these years.

As Sasuke turned to leave, the weight of his promise lingered in the air. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the village. You felt a renewed sense of hope, knowing that the bond you shared was stronger than ever, despite the trials you had both faced. And with that, a new beginning opened between you—a chance to rebuild not just your friendship but the trust and bond that had endured through years of silence and separation.

—

As the sun rose over Konoha, you found yourself at the training grounds, practicing your techniques. The rhythmic sound of your feet hitting the ground echoed through the quiet morning. You focused, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Sasuke. The lingering memory of his apology had stirred something within you, a warmth that urged you to hope for more.

“Focus,” a familiar voice called out, snapping you from your reverie. You turned to see Sasuke approaching, his brow furrowed in concentration as he watched you. “Your stance is off.”

You grinned, feeling a rush of happiness at the sight of him. “Thanks for the tip, Sensei,” you teased lightly, adjusting your stance. He rolled his eyes, but a hint of a smile ghosted across his lips, reminding you of the boy you had known long ago.

As you trained together, the air buzzed with unspoken comfort. Occasionally, he would offer you pointers, his tone serious yet softening with every exchange. Each shared glance held unspoken understanding, a reminder of the bond you were slowly rebuilding.

—

One evening, you found a quiet spot near the river, the gentle sound of flowing water providing a calming backdrop. You both sat on the grass, enjoying the peace that surrounded you. The sunset cast a golden hue across the landscape, and you couldn’t help but feel content.

“Do you remember the first time we came here?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. Sasuke glanced at you, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in a faint smile.

“Yeah,” he replied, his voice thoughtful. “You fell in the water trying to catch a frog.”

You laughed, the memory bringing warmth to your chest. “I was determined! But you helped me out,” you reminded him.

“Because you wouldn’t stop whining,” he shot back, but there was a hint of fondness in his tone. The two of you reminisced about old memories, the laughter bridging the gaps between the past and the present.

—

After a long day of training, you decided to share a meal. You prepared a simple dinner, and when Sasuke arrived, you laid out the food on a small table outside. The night air was cool, and fireflies danced around you as you both dug in.

“This isn’t bad,” he remarked after taking a bite, surprising you with his praise. You raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smile.

“Just ‘not bad’? I thought I could impress you,” you teased, leaning back in your chair. Sasuke glanced at you, a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“Impressing me isn’t easy,” he replied, but there was a lightness to his words now, a softness that made your heart race.

As you both enjoyed the meal, the atmosphere was filled with easy conversation, laughter, and the comfort of companionship. It felt natural, as if the years apart had only strengthened the connection between you.

—

One night, after a particularly exhausting day, you both lay on the grass outside the village, gazing up at the stars. The sky was clear, and you pointed out constellations, your excitement palpable.

“Look, that’s the Big Dipper!” you exclaimed, tracing its outline with your finger. Sasuke turned his head slightly, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

“Do you really believe in that stuff?” he asked, a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“Why not? It’s nice to think there’s something bigger out there,” you replied, glancing at him. He was silent for a moment, contemplating your words.

“Maybe,” he finally said, his tone thoughtful. “But I think…what’s important is right here.” He motioned between the two of you, and the weight of his words settled warmly in your chest. It was a small moment, yet it held the promise of something deeper.

—

As the day approached for Sasuke to leave on his next mission, the mood between you grew heavier. You both knew it was part of his duty, part of who he was, but the thought of him being away again made your heart ache.

“Be careful,” you urged, your voice softer than usual as you stood at the village gate. He met your gaze, the intensity of his dark eyes making you feel like he was searching for something.

“I will,” he promised, and for a moment, you felt a sense of peace.

“Just…don’t take too long this time,” you added, trying to keep your tone light despite the lump in your throat. Sasuke paused, and in that moment, you saw the flicker of a smile.

“Next time we meet,” he said slowly, his voice steady, “I’ll make sure to have a better goodbye.” And with that, he left, and you knew that this time, you would be waiting.

With each encounter, the distance that once defined your relationship faded, replaced by a deepening connection that felt both familiar and new. As time passed, you both embraced the changes, finding solace in each other’s presence, which slowly turned from friendship into something more.

The journey had been long, marked by pain and loss, but now, as you walked alongside Sasuke once again, the path ahead felt promising. The bond you shared was evolving, hinting at the possibility of love, quietly waiting to be acknowledged.

—

As the weeks turned into months and the months quickly into a year, the bond between you and Sasuke continued to deepen. The unspoken tension between you lingered like an electric current, and every shared laugh, every moment spent in each other’s company seemed to ignite something new in your hearts. Yet, while the connection felt undeniable, neither of you had taken the leap to acknowledge the shift. Sasuke, in particular, struggled with the burgeoning feelings that swirled within him.

Sitting outside on a warm summer evening, you both watched the sun dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The air was still, and for a moment, it felt as though time had stopped. You turned to look at Sasuke, who was staring intently at the sky, his face illuminated by the fading light.

“What are you thinking about?” you asked, breaking the silence. He shifted slightly, glancing at you with an expression that was both contemplative and guarded.

“Just… how everything has changed,” he replied, his voice low. “It feels different now.”

You nodded, your heart fluttering at the possibility of him meaning more than just the sunset. “Yeah, it really does. We’ve come a long way.”

He didn’t respond immediately, and you could sense that he was grappling with something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to voice. Sasuke had always been more comfortable with action than words, and you respected that, even as you wished he could share more of what was on his mind.

As the stars began to twinkle overhead, you lay back on the grass, watching the constellations appear one by one. “Do you remember the stories we used to tell each other about the stars?” you asked, your voice soft and reminiscent.

He chuckled softly, the sound warming your heart. “I remember you always had some elaborate story about them.”

“Of course! They were all very important,” you teased, sitting up to face him. “And you always pretended not to care, but I know you did.”

Sasuke looked at you, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Maybe I did,” he admitted, his gaze softening. “You just… have a way of making things seem more interesting.”

That comment made your heart skip. You smiled back, feeling a rush of warmth at the sincerity in his eyes. “Well, I’m glad I could entertain you.”

As the moments passed, you both fell into a comfortable silence. But the quiet between you was filled with an unspoken understanding, and that was when it struck Sasuke.

Days later, Sasuke found himself deep in thought as he trained alone in the woods outside Konoha. Each punch and kick felt more powerful, fueled by a growing sense of determination. But as the sweat dripped down his brow and he paused to catch his breath, it hit him like a jolt of electricity.

He loved you.

The realization was startling, yet it made perfect sense. You had always been there for him, through his darkness and his pain. You never pushed him to be someone he wasn’t; instead, you patiently allowed him to be himself, to feel the way he felt, and to heal at his own pace. While he had spent years isolating himself, you were the one person who saw through his walls and accepted him as he was.

And it wasn’t just about your patience; it was the way you challenged him. You made him think, you brought laughter into his life, and you shared your dreams and fears with him, fostering a connection that felt both intimate and genuine. You had never demanded anything from him, yet your presence was a light in the shadows that surrounded him.

As he stood there, a countless of emotions flooded him—fear, joy, and a fierce longing to express what he felt. But there was also anxiety; what if you didn’t feel the same way? The thought of losing the friendship that meant so much to him was almost unbearable.

A week passed since Sasuke’s revelation, and he knew he could no longer keep his feelings to himself. The next evening, he invited you to meet him by the river—the same spot where you had shared so many laughs and memories. He arrived early, his heart racing with anticipation and dread.

When you approached, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow on the water’s surface. You smiled brightly at him, and for a moment, he forgot his nerves.

“Hey! You’re early!” you exclaimed, settling beside him on the bank.

“Yeah, I wanted to make sure I had some time to think,” he replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside.

“Thinking about what?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what was to come. “About us,” he said, his tone serious.

Your eyes widened slightly, and he could see the intrigue mixed with concern in your expression. “Us?”

“Yes.” He hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. About everything—about what we’ve been through and how much you mean to me.”

You shifted slightly closer, your heart racing at the intensity of his gaze. “Sasuke, what are you trying to say?”

He paused, gathering his thoughts, the weight of his feelings pressing down on him. “You’ve always been there for me. Even when I pushed everyone away, you never gave up on me. You let me be who I am, without judgment or expectation. And… I don’t think I ever truly expressed how much that means to me.”

His words hung in the air, and you watched him, your breath caught in your throat. The sincerity in his eyes was palpable, and you felt a warmth spread through your chest. “I… I appreciate that, Sasuke. I really do.”

He swallowed hard, his resolve strengthening as he continued. “But it’s more than that. Being with you, talking with you, training together—it’s brought me a sense of peace I didn’t know I needed. And I’ve realized… I love you.”

Silence fell between you, the weight of his confession settling like a blanket over the two of you. Your heart raced, and you felt a mixture of shock and elation.

“You love me?” you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sasuke nodded, his expression earnest. “I do. I’ve tried to ignore it, but it’s become impossible. I don’t want to hide how I feel anymore.”

Tears pricked your eyes, not out of sadness, but joy. “Sasuke, I love you too!” you exclaimed, unable to contain the happiness that bubbled inside you. “I’ve felt this way for so long, but I never knew if you felt the same.”

A rare smile broke across his face, and the tension that had been coiled in his shoulders eased. “You really do?”

“Of course!” You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “You’re my best friend. I’ve always cared for you, but it’s grown into something deeper, something beautiful.”

The moment felt surreal as you both sat there, fingers laced together, hearts racing in synchrony. Sasuke’s grip tightened around your hand, a warmth radiating from his touch that sent shivers down your spine.

“Then let’s not waste any more time,” he said, his voice soft yet resolute. “I want to be with you—fully, completely.”

You nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face. “I want that too.”

He leaned closer, and you could see the uncertainty in his eyes, a vulnerability that was rare for him. “Can I… kiss you?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Yes,” you breathed, your heart racing as he leaned in. His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, before deepening the kiss. It was sweet, filled with all the unspoken words and emotions that had built up between you over the years. Time seemed to stand still as you both melted into each other, the world around you fading away.

When you finally pulled apart, you felt breathless, a sense of joy flooding your heart. Sasuke smiled softly, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the warmth that lay beneath his typically stoic exterior.

“Wow,” he murmured, his cheeks slightly flushed. “That was… nice.”

You laughed, the sound light and full of happiness. “Nice? That’s all you’ve got?”

“I mean, it was more than nice,” he corrected himself, his gaze intense. “It was everything.”

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of purple and gold, you sat together, hands intertwined, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment. The future felt bright, filled with possibilities and adventures yet to come.

Sasuke glanced at you, his expression softening. “I know I’m not great with words, but I want you to know I’m here for you. I’ll always protect you.”

You squeezed his hand, a smile dancing on your lips. “And I’ll be here for you too, no matter what. Together.”

The two of you shared another kiss, the warmth of your connection solidifying the bond that had been formed through trials and time. With every moment spent together, you knew you would navigate whatever came next, hand in hand.

note : If you liked it, I’d appreciate it if you could please leave a like and reblog. ᥫ᭡

Thoughts of knight! Megumi are hitting me hard.

From the age of ten, knight! Megumi grows up glued to your side. As the princess, your Father insisted upon someone guarding you at all times. He’s not a real knight as a child, but he’s training to become one! Megumi takes it seriously, mimicking everything Gojo, his mentor, does. He wouldn’t if it meant protecting anyone besides you.

Knight! Megumi is your best friend. It’s a secret of course, that you share inside jokes with him. That you whisper silly commentary about the stuck up citizens at the yearly ball thrown in your honor to him as he stands guard. Megumi has to hide his laughter with a cough or slam the metal face plate shut so he’s not caught slacking.

Knight! Megumi chases off all the sketchy suitors who wish for your hand in marriage. He knows you hate not being in charge of your own destiny, so if he can delay the inevitable even by a second, he will.

Knight! Megumi is the first boy you fall in love with. The only boy you fall in love with. He’s strong and loyal and pretty, and he scares away all the icky men. He’d strike down anyone for you if you’d only ask.

Knight! Megumi can’t say no when you plead with him to sneak into your bedroom in the dead of night. He’s wrapped around your finger, even more so when your pussy’s wrapped around his cock. When he shoves your knees to your chest he covers your mouth with his hand, or slips two fingers past your lips, presses on your tongue, and whispers “hush, princess.” The other guards can’t be allowed to catch on that Megumi’s fucking the princess, right? Surely the King would have his head.

Knight! Megumi knows that climbing into your bed every night contradicts just about every rule he’d been taught. He gives no fucks. He’ll never let another man lay hands on his princess. Megumi looks the King in the eyes and lies straight to his face, swearing on his life to protect your “virtue.” As if he hadn’t had his face in between your legs an hour ago.

Gojo’d be proud he’s sticking the middle finger to the man.

master list

being a ua! student with toya todoroki meant that the two of you were almost always seen with the other, and you two were always getting in trouble. whether it was for bunking class, sneaking out of the dormitory at night, making out in empty classrooms during lunch break… you guys were always in meetings with your parents and your homeroom teacher at least once a week.

your classmates were practically sick of you guys at this point. they have to deal with you and toya kissing in front of your classroom door every single morning, and they couldnt say anything about it unless they wanted to deal with toya’s anger issues first thing in the morning. however, they couldnt deny that the two of you were an adorable couple, and said that if you guys broke up, theyd “stop believing in love”.

however, the one time where you and toya didnt get along was in training. your teachers always tried to keep the two of you separated, but on the off chance that you both were paired up or on the same team, it never went well. you two were both much too stubborn and hardheaded to listen to each other, and training together often ended up in heated arguments.

usually, toya would make it up to you by buying your favourite snacks from the store and a bouquet of flowers that he knew you loved. he hated when the two of you fought, and all that he wanted by the end of the night was to be back in your arms. it more than often also ended with toya in your bed, with him either holding you gently against his chest and his hand in your hair, or the sheets getting ruined from stains from all of the snacks toya had brought for you as an apology.

meeting toya's family was an eventful experience. on one hand, his mother and younger siblings all adored you, and instantly welcomed you to the family. however, his father was much more critical and judgemental of you. he practically interrogated you, much to toya's frustration, and sent you glares all throughout dinner. the rest of the family had told you not to take enji's scepticism to heart, yet you couldnt help the saddened feeling in your chest. thankfully, or unthankfully for you, your boyfriend was extremely observant, and for the rest of your evening at the todoroki home, toya made sure to be constantly touching you in some form to remind you of how much he loved you. whether it was his hand on your thigh, head against your shoulder, his lips gently pressing against your cheek or forehead... it didnt matter. toya wanted you to feel comfortable being around his family, and he knew that his touch relaxed you. and anyway, toya loved the feeling of his skin against yours... so it was a win-win.

being a ua! student with toya were three years of constant laughter, love, occasional sadness, and overcoming hardships in both your relationship and your school work. and you wouldnt want it any other way.

© sukuyia™ — dont copy, plagiarise, repost, modify and/or translate my works

meio daddy's home meio angels in tibet 🥵🥵

VIRGIN!JJK FIC RECS

something about virginity loss fics makes me sooo wet... req by anon ^^ adding onto the list whenever i find more <3 mdni, nsfw content!

gojo digimon—but making u cum is my real hobby - blkkizzat strongest sorcerer virgin - megumiluv virgin and unexperienced bf!gojo - fatal fairies number one sorcerer (and virgin) - inmaki nerds do it better - sugugasm virginity loss & riding - creamflix

geto reformed player!geto - akicult virginity loss & riding - creamflix losing your virginity to geto suguru - yasu-1234 his favourite - h34rtbeat just let me love you - sttoru salvation - puppykento inked - choslut

nanami she said it's her first time - classyrbf sins of the flesh - semisgroupie perfect lover: the life of nanami kento the 35 year old virgin (series) - kanekisfavouritegf

yuuji oh my god, pretty - lokissweater virgin!yuji x virgin!reader - nana-au bff & virgin!yuji - nana-au yuji x f!reader - ickyuji

megumi best friend megumi fushiguro - onismdaydream megumi's birthday - mommypeick first time having sex is awkward - wild-jackaloupe how to fuck 101 - chosok-amo i think i'm ready - romantichomocide95 first time - megvmijx

yuta that boy is mine! i can't wait to try him! - rosesaints gummy bear - loveanddeepdick right here - love-jelly smile, you're on camera - seraphdreams

choso virgin!choso - teasingchoso choso kamo x f!reader - jaegerdilf mind body and soul - admirxation cherry blossoms ( 1 2 3 4 5 ) - sellenite cherry smoke clouds - kleftiko he's such a (hot) looser - classyrbf emo boy - krys4h

toji sins of the flesh - semisgroupietaboo crush - spideyyeet best friend's dad - nanaslut

sukuna virgin!sukuna - screampied

etc jjk!boys x virgin!fem reader v!rgin killa - screampied asking the jjk characters to take your virginity - nanaslut cherry popper - satorusugurugirl

CRAWL HOME TO HER | 2,724 words (~21 minutes reading time). gn!reader, major character death, descriptions of universe-accurate deaths, accidental necromancy.

author’s notes: did not think i’d run into a kinktober piece given how i’m still getting my groove back, but there was one tumblr post i saw that just punted me into next week. so…here we are! enjoy. i haven’t written for this guy in a little while…i missed him <3 i'm taking a bit of a different vibe here with doing parts of a topic instead of one-shots! therefore, this will have a second part i'll release at some point this month. enjoy! -> taglist: @qichun @fuyuswifey @suyacho @stunies -> join the taglist!

it’s quiet. too quiet.

the fog that drifts over the city is thick, light rain speckling against the gravestones as you meander through the rows. some of the stones are barely readable, long forgotten from families who have since moved on. some are fresher, emblazoned with golden lettering, untouched by the weather. despite the rain, incense smoke hangs in the air, pungent scents of patchouli and dragon’s blood sharp in the lazy breeze.

your destination looms in front of you, the stench of freshly moved soil clinging to your nose as you settle down, your backpack landing lightly on the floor next to you. you pull out a packaged bento box, leaving it in your lap before lighting your own incense sticks. one is placed in front of an older gravestone, the next on the much newer stone beside it. the ground beneath the second stone is churned; there’s an incredibly faint stench of death from it, but you chalk it up to the bleary weather.

there are no words to share between you and the dead, but you begin to talk anyway.

“there was no funeral, you know.”

you stare at the name that’s emblazoned on the newer stone. the name HANMA SHUJI glares back at you. you continue.

“i knew you were involved in some shady shit, shuji, but…my god,” you say, sounding like a chiding mother as you shake your head, “i didn’t realize you were that stupid. getting yourself wrapped up with a crime syndicate? really?”

the words that leave your mouth are forcing a reaction from your chest. it’s tightening up, and angry tears prick at your eyes as you’re shot back into the past, only for a moment. you can feel the spring breeze drifting through your hair, a whisper of the sunshine tickling your face. you turn towards the main path, chopsticks frozen in your hand, as you watch two ghosts sprint through the yard.

one is tall, far too tall and gangly to be anyone else but shuji. he holds onto a much younger version of you’s hand, sly smile plastered across his face as he stumbles after you. your hand is tight around his own, fingers interlocking as you match his smile. your voice echoes across time; if you hadn’t been paying attention, you’d have missed it.

come on! we’re already late, and you know i hate taking this shortcut. it’s creepy!

shuji’s laugh sounds like a wind chime.

c’mon, doll, it ain’t that bad. you got me here, anyway. i’ll protect ya from the scary ghosts.

the spirits dissipate into the fog, gone as quickly as they came. like a dream.

you turn back to the stones. KISAKI TETTA stares back at you from the older stone, and you sigh, swallowing heavily. “and you,” you say, your voice shaking as you point your chopsticks at the offending name, “you knew better. you should have known better than all of us. you were smarter than all of us, and you went and got yourself flattened by a fucking supply truck. ridiculous.”

there’s wetness on your cheeks now, rage making the bento box in your lap unappetizing. you place it on the ground, crossing your arms over your chest. your jaw sets as you return your gaze to Shuji. your voice is so small for the anger that’s tearing through your muscles.

“you promised me you’d protect me. you promised.”

that’s the straw that breaks you. that stupid little comment he’d made so long ago, so long before you’d all gotten wrapped up in the horrors of what Kisaki’s plans had brought you all. you’d gotten out of it somehow, escaping his slimy clutches, but Shuji was not so lucky. he was too entranced, too addicted to the chase. it would’ve ended badly no matter what, for him.

the tears falling from your face drip into the soil as you bend over, your stomach twisting inside of your body. they mix in with the drizzle, soaking down into the dirt. you think nothing of it; why would you?

it’s just rain. it’s just tears. tears that have built up over years of frustration, of a reaction to a phone call you’d never have imagined you’d receive.

you can’t stay here. if you do you’re going to end up ripping both of their stones out and throwing them into the street. the bento box, uneaten, disappears into your bag, along with everything else. all that’s left behind of an indication that you visited is the incense burning in front of both stones.

as you go to open the gate, you could’ve sworn you heard something move. it sounded like digging, a scrabbling noise similar to a sound a rat makes as it crawls up a pipe. you turn around; but nothing is out of the ordinary behind you. all the stones are still where they should be, the dirt untouched.

“fucking ghosts.”

still…you can’t get rid of the feeling that someone is watching you as you walk home. your neck hairs feel like they’re standing up completely straight, no matter how many times you scratch that stretch of skin.

the relief you feel after getting inside your house is immeasurable.

the feeling stops.

the rain only gets worse as the day progresses.

you stay inside; you have off work today, so you make yourself a nice tea and settle into the couch with a good book you’ve been pushing off on finishing. you deserve a nice day to yourself; and a rainy day is a fantastic excuse to do so.

the night comes before you realize it, the street lamps turning on amongst the torrential downpour. it’s a mess out there, car engines muffled by the rain hammering on your roof. you trudge into the kitchen, an instant ramen packet making its way into a bowl and into the microwave. tonight was not the night to be making dinner; low effort food was better than no food, and you did still have the bento box.

the movie you put on drifts you to sleep, warm ramen and bento in your belly as your eyes slide shut. despite your mini-breakdown in the graveyard, you feel good that you went. you know shuji would have appreciated it, in his own little way. you can practically see his crooked smile behind your eyelids. a visit? for me? you shouldn’t have, doll. feelin’ pretty taken care of.

“fuck you,” you whisper as sleep finally claims you.

it doesn’t last for long.

a loud bang on the door forces you awake. your watch that you hold up to your face reads 03:00 AM in bright numbers, and you groggily wipe at your eyes. “the fuck?” you say to yourself, wondering how badly this person needs you to answer the door. you pause before getting up, waiting for another knock. maybe if you don’t make yourself known to be home, they’ll go away — none of your indoor lights are on to indicate you’re even home, barring the normal porch light. you can see a shadow against the wall, but nothing more.

the banging starts again, even louder this time, and you jump to your feet. adrenaline spikes through your veins, fear clutching at you as you pad towards the door. “my god, okay, okay!” you holler towards the door as your hand lands on the doorknob.

you don’t turn it, though. you’re frozen all of a sudden.

the doorknob’s golden cover is ice cold. like someone is chilling it from the outside.

something primal arises in you. it’s a flight response, you’ve felt it before so many times when you’d hang around kisaki and shuji. you know it so well, even after all these years. why now? your brain panics, neurons firing, colliding information around in your head as if your very self is going scorched earth. every alarm in your mind is going off, telling you to not open this fucking door.

what the fuck what the fuck what the f—

you yank it open anyway. it takes effort, more effort than you’re used to, but you do it anyway.

a beat passes as your eyes take in what’s been lurking and banging behind the wooden door, and then you’re screaming. a bloodcurdling scream, one that sounded as if its coming from a prey animal having been caught by a predator, calling for help. it sounds far away — you can feel your vocal chords moving, but the sound doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you.

a humanoid hand slams over your mouth, pushing you back inside. the door closes behind the intruder, and you just stand there, shaking, letting its hand pressure your mouth as if wanting it to shut you up. heaven knows you wouldn’t have been able to stop at the horror you see before you.

it’s shuji. and he is covered in dirt.

it sticks to his pale skin, bits falling onto your carpet. he stinks of death, brown soil and grass dirtying the remaining fabric of his three-piece striped suit. dried blood is caked all over him, only adding to the horrible smell that’s coming off of him.

your eyes move upwards.

his lips seem normal; not the undead purple that you’re used to seeing in your shitty zombie Halloween movies. in fact, he seems relatively intact despite being dead as the dirt that clings to his body from hours ago.

he’s even wearing circular glasses as you look up to meet his eyes, against every screeching nerve of your judgement.

his eyes are…normal.

well, they’re glowing, which is different.

but they’re the same gold and purple that you remember. one of his lenses is broken, cracks spiderwebbed across its surface. beyond that, the structure of the frames seems as though its kept up. the crack looks newer. one of his hands comes up to his face to push the glasses further up his nose — you don’t miss the dirt caked under his broken fingernails. they’re cracked in odd places, as if…

as if he clawed his way out of the grave you were just at.

your entire body is frozen. you can’t scream anymore even if you wanted to, and he seems to recognize that as he removes his large hand. his hands are clammy, but he says nothing. he looks almost as surprised as you are, but in a different way. there’s no fear in his eyes, not a single hint of it. you would know; you’ve seen him afraid a handful of times, but for some reason there’s nothing like that there.

there’s only a strong, intense look. the word that appears in your brain is devotion.

something finally clicks in your brain, and you can move again.

you take a step back.

he takes a step forward.

you take another step back.

he takes another step forward.

your hand, shaking so hard you can barely point at him, raises. your finger quivers.

“y-y-y-y-you’re s-supposed to be—”

for the first time since rising again, shuji speaks.

“dead?”

his voice is gravelly. harsh. like he hasn’t used it in a while — which you instantly scoff at, because yeah, of course he wouldn’t have used it in a while. he’s been dead for weeks!

“yes!” it comes out as a squeak, your pointer finger still jabbing at him. “what the fuck! what is this? is this a sick joke? who are you? why are you dressed up as my friend? why—”

he lurches forward, hand gripping onto your shoulder. his grip is more intense than it used to be, as if he’s trying to dig underneath your skin. dig, dig, dig. as if to root himself inside of you.

you should run, you know that. you should run to your room and lock the door and pray to every god that he goes away. you should run the few steps through the kitchen to grab one of your knives, even if killing him again won’t kill him forever since he clearly can’t just stay dead. there’s a glimmer of hope that he disappears with the night, like a bad dream. this is just a bad dream, a nightmare. just a nightmare, of course, why didn’t you—

“not a dream, doll. it’s me.”

did i say that out loud?

the pet name flips a switch, and where there was cold fear, warm rage floods through your veins. you push off his hand with more force than you think you have, and your palms plant on his chest, ready to shove him away.

your hands freeze against him, like you can’t move him. like he locks your hands in place simply by touching him. the tile beneath your bare feet actively battles against you.

“fuck you,” you spit at him, pressing against him, trying to move your hands as his eyes widen behind his glasses, “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you. i cannot believe you— what the fuck is this? what the fuck are you doing here? how dare you—”

a litany of curses falls from your mouth in a rainstorm, almost as terrifying as the storm echoing outside. thunder rumbles and cracks as your voice raises in tone, lightning flashing through the window. it lights up shuji’s face, and his expression has your hands curling into fists, beating his chest, slamming against the clammy skin.

“why?” you finally shriek. “why now? why would you torment me like this? do you know how long it took me to gather the courage to even bother visiting you and Tetta? do you understand how this fucked me up? how my first fucking boyfriend died in some dumb ass stand-off in a gang that you didn’t belong in when you should have just—fucking stayed with me? DO YOU?”

a final thunderclap shakes your apartment’s walls, as if the very gods are rioting against what’s happening in your kitchen. as if they disagree with the unspoken ritual that’s happened to bring shuji back. as if they are as angry as you are for seeing the man you loved since you were a child standing in your kitchen, dripping blood, dirt and viscera all over your white tile.

your voice dies in your throat, the last words you’d spoken echoing around the apartment. tears flood your cheeks, dripping onto the floor. shuji says nothing, eyes wide in surprise. he studies you, more than he used to; he was always so flippant, but now…it looks like he’s actually listening. like he can actually hear you for once.

he looks hurt.

“no.”

his answer is short. you feel like an egg cracked open now, arms falling uselessly by your sides as you stand there and cry in front of him, sobs tearing at your throat. “how could you?” you manage to get out, watching him through bleary eyes, more sobs falling from your lips. you let him move to you—

and his arms wrap around you.

his lips press against the shell of your ear as your sobs quiet into sniffles and hiccups.

“i’m so sorry. i’m so, so, so sorry, doll. so sorry.”

“you think an apology is gonna fix this?” you whisper wetly.

“no.”

“then why would you—”

“because even if you take or not, you still deserve one.”

you’ve been through so many emotions in the past minutes. it’s felt like a whirlwind. “i know, moron,” you hiccup, “but you haven’t answered me. why are you here?”

shuji moves away from you then. there’s color coming back into his cheeks, as if he’s warming up again just by standing in the heat of your home. the dirt has liquefied, rivulets dripping off of him and onto your floor, but you don’t care. you’re suddenly so tired, your legs shaking, but you need an answer. you need him to answer you—

“because of you. because you need me. because i love you.”

you blink. “y-you what?” you gasp out.

he repeats himself, like he’s reading out the ingredients on the back of a soup can. it feels so far away as your legs finally give out, the floor quickly speeding towards your vision. you don’t miss the feeling of him catching you, large (warmed) hands wrapped around your figure as you pass out. his declaration lingers, though, like a whisper as you let yourself slip into unconsciousness.

“i love you.”

divider credit: @/cafekitsune networks: @pixelcafe-network @themovingcastlez

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