Echoes of the Unspoken
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@warabidakihime
Echoes of the Unspoken
Masterlist
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Guys My Age
Synopsis. (!) Two assignments overdue: your law professor and your history professor. Objective: After teasing them all semester, Professor Higuruma Hiromi and Professor Nanami Kento…snap. Time: At the same time.
Pairing. Nanami Kento x Reader x Higuruma Hiromi
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, history professor!Nanami, law professor!Higuruma, college AU, you’re such a TEASE, driving them wiId, they’re overworked, they’re older, tutoring, STERN Nanami, fíngering, rings, p sIapping, p talking, chokíng, rídin’ Higuruma’s nose, oraI (m + f), pússydrunk Higuruma, manhandIing, dragging, running from it, bíting, BOTH, fuII neIsons, bIindfolds, guessing, DP, SAME TIME, spítting, DÚMBlFICATlON, cervíx smoochin’, big stretches, they’re FÉRAL, creampíes, cúmpIay, slight cúmfIation, surprise at the end, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 13.2k
A/N. You babygirls said you wanted more law professor!Higuruma so…I said why not have BOTH?!
He had you next hour.
Professor Nanami Kento - head of the History Department, PhD with Distinction - had you in his next class.
And he wasn’t even half as prepared as he should be: the coffee-maker in the staff room had broken down.
Goodness knows how many times the blond-haired man has haunted that very station. Slouched over, sighing, sipping on his seventh coffee of the day.
And although he could blame it all on the higher-ups and their stingy funding, or perhaps the frat boys of Delta Jujutsu Pi that’ve made it a challenge to sneak inside—he blames you. He wouldn’t even have latched onto such a respite had it not been for the way you made his blood pressure rise…in all sorts of ways.
Nanami’s eyes glaze over, and his hand absent-mindedly drifts between his legs. Perhaps if he got his pent-up energy out first…
“Kento.” A knock at his cubicle. And Nanami jolts his hand away as though it burned-
It was Professor Higuruma Hiromi.
The head of the Law Department. Also PhD with Distinction. The man with dark circles and even darker suits, all prim and poised as he waded through the hallways with his stacks of documents—of course, Nanami was one for suits, as well.
They really brought out his broad shoulders- at least, that’s what you told him.
Another reason why he needs the coffee.
Fuck.
Nanami attempts to even out his breathing as he looks up. “Hiromi.”
If Higuruma thought anything of Nanami’s startled reaction, he makes no indication. Instead he holds up a slim file in his hand, “Are you free? Could you help me with looking over this essay?”
“Of course.”
They were the only two in the staff room right now, besides- anything to take his mind off of you.
Nanami adjusts the gold-rimmed glasses on his face before he takes the file from him. Flipping it open to find a jumble of justice and law jargon that his history-inclined brain balks at—“I never thought you’d want a history professor’s opinion on an essay about…” He squints at the title, “-the scope of judicial power and judicial review. Does this have any names of 14th century shoguns that you need me to check?”
“No- no.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face, though Nanami gets the impression that it wasn’t for him. Rather it was for whatever ravaged at the man inside- making him look up at the ceiling with a hollow sigh—“Man, I need some coffee today.”
“Understandable.” Nanami pushes his glasses up.
“The machine’s broken, right?”
“Right.”
Higuruma only lets out another sigh that Nanami relates to well.
“If it helps, Dean Yaga said it’d be fixed by tomorrow.” Nanami attempts- he never was the type of sociable guy some of the other professors were. But he gets the feeling that Higuruma was the same.
He runs a hand down his face one last time- “That’s too late, I have tutoring this evening with…” And how Nanami Kento related to that, as well. Before he seems to shake himself out of it- somewhat. “It’s alright, could you just check the grammatical and citation stuff for me?”
“Of course.” As Higuruma leans against the partition and waits, the other professor skims through the writing. It wasn’t half bad, to be quite honest, and had it been for his own class then he would’ve given it an A—none too many mistakes except for the odd careless error. At least it was human-made.
After a while of silence, Nanami’s partway through the conclusion when he asks. “Did you happen to get tired of looking through so many essays?”
“No, it’s just…” The dark-haired man sighs once more- for about the twelfth time since he came in. “-this student, you know?”
Nanami nods—he did know. “Trouble student?”
“Not quite.” He almost gulps.
Nanami narrows his eyes. “Doesn’t attend?”
“No, she attends every class.”
“Then what?” He leans back in his chair, essay forgotten now. “The legacy kid? The credit-chaser? The class clown that isn’t actually funny?”
Higuruma cuts through them all with a fierce shake of his head. “No, no, and no—” Almost gulping. “It’s just that this student is a little…distracting.”
The tips of his ears were red.
Instantly, Higuruma looks like he regrets it.
“F-forget I said anything-”
He does.
But Nanami looks squarely at the other man.
“I have a student like that, too.”
The law professor looks at him in wary interest. “Oh?”
“My star student, actually.” Pushing his glasses up, he opens up one of his cabinets and pulls out a thick, paper-stuffed file. And though Nanami Kento does collect his students’ work for the semester to review, he never does keep them quite so close - none other than yours.
Higuruma looks through them with slightly widened eyes. “All hers?”
Nanami nods, “So diligent that it’s almost distracting.”
Higuruma pulls out an empty chair beside Nanami and sits. Legs spread. Dark eyes thoughtful. “Mine, too.” He starts—“Never have I had a student ask for so many hours of extra tutoring.”
“Mine’s basically set up a tent in my office.” Nanami chuckles- though he can’t deny the slight pang it sends down to his cock. “Always taking on more assignments for extra credit, always answering questions first-”
“Always first in class and last to leave?”
“Exactly.” Nanami agrees. And he leans a hand on his desk as he watches the other man go through those papers - they were some of his most prized possessions, he feared to admit. Words from your heart. Swooping slashes of ink from your hands.
It was a part of you in those papers that Nanami Kento held dear to him- fuck, it was a part of you that sometimes he’d bring up to his greedy nose and sniff. Almost as if he could feel your skin through these very parchments.
It made him so fuckin’ hard.
But Higuruma didn’t need to know that.
Though the careful manner in which he handled those papers - how he leaned in just a little to drown in the ink - made him wonder…
“Always wearing the skimpiest skirt to class?”
And the other man looks up in shock- as though conveying something in his silence. Oh.
He flips the file over to look at the name typed-out on the cover, and it reads—yours. Ultimately, he continues—“A-always sittin’ in the front row with her legs spread just a bit?”
Nanami nods. “Always leaning over the desk when she has to speak in private.”
There’s a slight hardening within Higuruma’s eyes - though not of any unpleasant kind - it’s almost as if something deep and carnal was stirring awake right now. “Always wearing the prettiest black lace underneath?”
“She wears baby pink for me.” Nanami can’t help but smile.
“Fuck.” Higuruma runs a hand down his face again- and if Nanami didn’t know any better then he would’ve sworn that the other professor looked even more weary than when he first came in here. “And her panties-”
“Matching set.” Nanami responds without missing a beat - and he knows he’s some ol’ pervert for this.
He knows he is.
But he also knows about the smile that’d spread across your face the moment you’d realized he’d seen. “Bent over too low when picking her pen up one class.”
“Fucking—fuck.” Higuruma sounds agonized.
Nanami leans back in his chair, making it bounce a little bit. With a slightly breathless sigh leaving him, and his cock hardening even more in his pants–he’s forced to manspread under the table a little more. “She’s a needy lil’ thing, isn’t she?”
“That’s putting it lightly.” Higuruma’s lips quirk up into a sensual smile - as if he was reminiscing on the memories. “Wanting to fuck her professors? Seriously?”
“Believe she’s thought of both of us at the same time?”
“Don’t even say that-” The law professor looks around, even though there was no one else here. Looking back at the man with somewhat pleading eyes, “I have tutoring with her this evening. If I can’t even fucking grade her essay without getting a hard-on then what d’you think will happen if I’m thinking of that—?”
“Oh…” Nanami hums to himself, hands lacing in front of him. The coffee-machine really was broken. “-maybe that won’t be an issue.”
Higuruma glances at him with furrowed brows, “How so?”
“What time is your tutoring with her?”
“You mean…”
The blond man shrugs coyly- “I’m not implying anything…but which one of us two do you think is her favorite?”
“And people think you’re the gentleman of us two.” Higuruma grumbles but ultimately spits out the time. It seems you’d opted for tuition classes with your law professor in the after-hours—when the offices were snug, and the department was empty. And he feels his cock perk up at the fact- how many times has he raced back home to plunge into a cold bath after your tuition classes? How many times has his shower heard your name whispered? “I’m most definitely the favorite, by the way-”
So lost in his thought, Nanami nearly doesn’t catch the sentence. He looks over at Higuruma. “Does she call you ‘sir’, too?”
“She does.”
“Well, then we’ll find out, won’t we?”
.
.
.
The two hottest professors on campus.
Higuruma Hiromi (38) with his sleek-cut suits, his polished shoes, and those sleepy eyes that seemed to stare into the depths of your soul. The depths of your body - exposed underneath him. He was a stern teacher, not afraid to make you do an assignment over and over and over again…(and you gladly would). Higuruma’s justice classes made you…wet you had to admit, hearing him bark out simulations of court cases. Orders. Commands.
You could practically hear a sigh echo out across the room every time he acted out his attorney days.
Every time he banged his gavel down made your knees weak.
It was no wonder that students in the law department tittered n’ scattered any time the ruggedly handsome professor walked past.
On the other hand was your history professor.
Nanami Kento (31) with his beefier build, his strong arms, his gentle eyes—twinkling down kindly upon you every time he corrected a mistake. Which - you have to confess - you’ve made a few more times than you really had to, just to feel his molten gaze upon you again and again. He often caused your heart (and something else entirely) to flutter at the deep musicality of his voice, managing to make even the most boring of history passages something interesting. Something that swept the class up easily.
Nanami was reputed around campus for being a complete gentleman - never looking down upon someone, never letting them walk in after him, never letting them pay him a compliment without receiving a sweet one back.
The dream husband.
The stern and the nice.
Both of them- frat guys hated them.
It hadn’t been intentional to join both their classes- honest!
But after seeing them on your first day, how could you not commit to maintaining a spotless attendance? You had a sneaking suspicion that the rest of the class behaved in the same manner for much the same reason - though none took it quite as far as you.
The skirts. The extra credit. The bending.
Speaking honestly, you were a teacher’s pet. Through and through.
And the tightness in their pants whenever you left a class told you- they were the best professors. To you, that is.
Which is why you’d been a little less than happy when Professor Higuruma had told you that someone might be joining your weekly tutoring.
Invigilated tutoring?
What the hell was invigilated tutoring?!
You admit that you’d been forced to hold back a groan of disappointment. Picking such late hours had been a conscious decision—right up there with those tight pencil skirts that you knew your law professor loved but would never admit to.
Professor Nanami was more the type to like free, flirty pleats that barely reached your thigh - and you loved the way his eyes would follow them behind those glasses of his. Even though he pretended they didn’t.
And right now you were wearing a mix of both.
Tight on top, flared at the bottom
Seated opposite his desk - thighs shut, skirt pulled down as low as it would go - more concentrated than you’d ever been during one of these tutoring sessions. It’s been about half an hour since the start of today’s tuition. Higuruma’s office was a cosy space, decked out in the most expensive-looking mahogany banisters, and shelves, and a witness box in the far corner.
It gleamed at the light—down knowingly at you, almost as if waiting for you to make a move.
But how could you? If there was a potential visitor, then you didn’t want to risk Higuruma’s job- as much as you loved teasing your two hot professors, it wouldn’t do to get them fired!
So you kept your hands and your skirts to yourself.
And even Higuruma himself had his eyes raised, possibly wondering why you hadn’t leaned over his desk or lingered a touch at his shoulder for help.
But oh, how you wanted to…
The professor looks down at his watch, “He’s late.”
You’re glancing at the closed door, “Maybe the invigilator isn’t coming?”
“Oh, he will.” Higuruma crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. “Trust me, he won’t miss this.”
A shiver runs down your spine.
You wondered what made him so sure.
And yet, you edge closer over the desk to him anyways.
It’s about forty-five minutes into your tutoring session when the door you’ve been sneaking glimpses of this entire time- clicks! And a looming figure walks into the room, his figure nearly taking up the whole frame.
Your jaw drops as you realize—
It’s Professor Nanami.
“Ah- Kento.” Higuruma beckons him over warmly- and you’re nearly suffering from whiplash from watching the two interact. These two are close?! Professor Nanami had been completely normal during your last class, if just a little more distracted than usual - and what was this? “We’ve been waiting.”
He looks at you as he says this.
“I had to penalize a student for missing a few assignments.” Nanami says smoothly, before bringing up a chair beside you and taking his seat. His movements were fluid and precise - as if he wasn’t questioning for a single moment why you were here so late, why you were dressed like that for him, and why you were so damn close.
You’d been staring into his handsome face for so long that he clears his throat. “Continue.”
“S-sir?” You’re chirping- and in your peripheral vision, Higuruma shuffles in his chair.
“Continue.” Nanami repeats in a stern tone. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound like that—“Just as you are. I would like to take notes for teaching my own classes.”
“You heard what he said.” Higuruma nods- and now you’re looking his way to see the most knowing smile on his face. “Continue, angel.”
Your thighs squeeze at the pet name.
Nanami quirks a blond brow and notes something down.
And so you’re ducking back into your work—
“Your blouse button is undone.”
Slightly gasping, you’re reaching down to fix it-
“No, don’t button it.” He interrupts you with his low tone, gravelly with something you can’t pinpoint. You’re looking up at Nanami to find his gaze unwavering from you already- “I was merely noting it. Nothing to fix.”
“But-”
“You unbutton it for my class, too, don’t you?” He asks, and you’re unsure what to say-
“Answer when your teacher speaks to you.” Higuruma’s humming tone echoes—and from the sound of it, he was thoroughly enjoying this. He cocks his head down at you, “Or haven’t they taught you that yet?”
“Th-they have.” You’re squirming in your seat, a slight heat simmering in your stomach. You turn to Nanami, “And I do.”
“Hm.” With nothing more said- he writes something else down in his notes.
And you think you’re in the clear.
For now.
It’s barely a few sentences later on your work that Nanami speaks up again-
“Your feet are touching his.”
You pull away-
“You’ve been writing the same sentence over and over.”
Your hand pauses-
“Your thighs are parted more so than before.”
Immediately, you’re smacking them back shut again- you hadn’t even realized. And how the hell had Nanami even seen?
And you could practically hear the smug smile in his voice - so unlike everything you know of him - as he continues. “And your bra is peeking out.”
“Never seen one before?” You mutter underneath your breath, just about to fix your collar (that you’d very purposefully left open)—
Before Nanami’s voice cuts through again. “Never seen one of yours in black before, is what.” Even as you’re looking at him in slight sensual shock- he doesn’t look up from his papers. “What happened to the baby pink you show-off in my class?”
And Higuruma merely leans back and smiles. “Black is my favorite color, remember?”
“How could I forget?” The history professor answers.
“Though I myself am curious about this baby pink of yours…”
And you have nothing else to do but gape- they knew.
Oh, how they both knew by now.
And by the looks in their eyes, they’d been dying for this very moment.
To confront how you’d been toying n’ teasing them all semester through now- enough so that they’ve apparently begun trading secrets about their unruly star student. You knew that Higuruma tended to have his ears grow hot and red any time he bumped into you in the hallway, and that Nanami would loosen his tie as if undressing whenever you wore a particularly scandalous thing to class - but you hadn’t known they’d been pushed…to this extent.
And you were glad for it.
So you sigh—slouching back in your chair. “So you both know. What now then? Do I get written up or something?”
But Nanami only looks at you through his glasses. “Sit up straight.”
He’s never uttered a command like that in his entire life during your usual lectures. And when you don’t move - merely looking at the blond man with raised brows - Higuruma pipes up. “You best listen to him now, angel.”
“Oh please.” Fluttering your lashes at them both. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”
Higuruma looks at Nanami.
Nanami calmly puts his notes down on the other’s table, and looks at you.
“Why-” He pushes his glasses up his handsome nosebridge. “-teach you a lesson, of course.”
“Both of you?” You could feel the elated giggles bubbling up in your throat- and you could feel the space between your legs start to grow wetter already. Looking between both of them—“Do it then.”
And then it’s a blur - you don’t know where Higuruma’s lips end and yours begin. He’s reached over the surface of his desk to kiss you like a starved man- and he groooans into that very kiss like you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. Hand on your cheek.
The tips of his canines start nibblin’ on your lower lip- and you’re kissing him back even deeper. “Shit-” Higuruma’s husky tone scorches across your face, “Shit, I’ve been wanting to do this for so fucking long.”
“Mmm, you kiss like husband material.” You’re giggling into the kiss. Both of your hands end up on his shoulders, and you could feel the shifting of his muscles through his slim suit.
“Shit- and you talk like trouble.” He echoes out in an almost pained tone- like every second that his lips were away from yours ached.
And those plump, pursed lips press against yours once more—so much sweeter than you would have expected this booming lawyer to kiss. He’s using the hand on your cheek to tilt down your chin- “May I?” Before the short nod you give lets him slither his tongue in wetly, lappin’ at your sweetest taste. “Shit, you’re really like sugar on my tongue.”
And you’re whining into the fervent kiss, letting it go on for a few more minutes before you’re breaking away with the most lecherous plop! And a thoroughly flushed professor chasing after your lips drunkenly-
“And what about you…” You’re kissing down Higuruma’s sharp jawline, looking at the other man who’d been sitting quietly this entire time. “-sir? Haven’t you wanted to kiss me even once this semester?”
Nanami shivers but he hides it well. Uncrossing his legs and revealing the most rock-hard, aching bulge between his legs—“Kiss? Perhaps.”
And you’re gulping at the sight.
Higuruma scoffs out a slight burst of laughter. “Perhaps.”
“But I’m a gentleman, my love.” Nanami continues, leaning back in that luxurious armchair. He takes off his coat to reveal a pale blue button-up, and beneath that was revealed the most chiselled body you’ve ever seen. He pushes his sleeves up to his elbows and beckons towards you. Manspread. Lap so welcoming. “Which means I’ve thought of far, far worse.”
Higuruma - with a final sloppy kiss plastered across your mouth - lets you walk over to Nanami.
Which you do on wobbly legs- plopping down unceremoniously on his lap. More than enough space there for you. He wastes no time bending you into shape in his strong arms, flipping you around to face the other man, and spreading your legs wiiiiiiide open-
Riiiiiip—!
“Whoops.” Nanami’s thoroughly unapologetic tone gruffs against the shell of your ear. Two of his vein-covered forearms were hooked underneath your elbows, and Nanami looks on boredly at the clean split down your skirt—“I always thought you’d look better without these anyway.”
Before he’s spreading your legs even further across his lap. Tearing it even more.
Exposing you for nothing but your tremblin’ legs and those drenched panties. Pretty black in color.
So lacy that it was practically nothing.
Higuruma’s eyes widen, “Dirty girl.”
Nanami breathes, “No, that’s called being a slut.” And shock runs through your body at his words- at Nanami ‘Gentleman’ Kento’s words. Before it’s suddenly overtaken by the sudden feeling of him smearin’ aside your panties and stuffin’ his fingers inside.
Those thick crowns dooooown to the golden ring on his middle finger.
They were long and thick. Swirling and swirling the tip of his digit right ‘round your clit- and when you’re shuddering and unable to take it any longer—he pulls away and licks off that excess slick with a slurp!
Humming to himself as though it was the greatest delicacy in the world. “One thing you should know about me, darling, is that just because I’m gentleman-” And you’d been so caught up in his ragged tone, you didn’t even realize that he’d snaked his hand back down between your legs. “-doesn’t mean that I’m not depraved.”
And he’s ending off the sentence not with a full stop- no, but with a sudden shove of his fingertips between your folds. So swollen n’ sweet with slick.
You buck and he lurches his hand out to slap you on top of your pussylips.
“Down, darling.”
“Please…” You don’t even know what you’re begging for.
But Nanami’s mouth waters already at the sound of it, and he’s keeping it at bay by pushing n’ pulling on the first ring of muscle at your cunt. “I said down.”
Head throwing back against his collarbone. “Oh.”
Fucking you with just the first inches of his fingers- “It doesn’t mean that m’not desperate.” Continuing as though your eyes weren’t bulging, as though your legs weren’t shaking, as though you weren’t arching off of his muscular chest. “It doesn’t mean that m’not ready to debase this pussy like she deserves.”
“Y-you mean—” You’re hiccuping, eyes starting to water at the sheer raw stretch. It was the type that left your pussy burning in the most delicious way - the feeling of having Nanami Kento’s scourin’ fingertips eager to enter your cunt. “-that whole gentleman thing was just a lie?”
“It’s not.” He responds. Final. His blond strands fall over his forehead as he keeps his eyes locked on your glistening hole, scissoring his fingers at that entrance n’ spreading you even wider. “I’m nice…”
Adding in a third finger before you’re even registering his second.
“-to everyone but this slutty pussy, that is.”
“Sh-shit—” Mewling at the top of your lungs, you’re clawing down Nanami’s strong forearms. They were the perfect thing to hold onto- just about the only thing you could hold onto as he utterly ruined your pussy with short, jerking thrusts.
Bulging the sides of your velvety walls open with his globular tips.
Cold metal ring shocking you.
So thick that he manages to probe into a few of your sensitive spots without even trying. Dragging his flexible fingers across every inch of you.
Scissoring and opening up and scissoring—deep.
Tears track down your cheeks at the sheer stimulation.
“Go easy on her, Kento.” Higuruma can’t help but groan at the sight of your pretty crying face. And soon enough, you’re hearing the metallic clinking of a belt buckle- “Don’t want to break our star student, now, do we?”
Nanami purrs against your temple. “Mmm, I don’t mind.”
“Just remember that she’s tutoring with me.”
The sound of Higuruma’s belt hitting the polished wooden floorboards is enough to make your eyes startle open- and oh, how you’re so glad it did.
Because then you’re greeted with the sight before you: of Higuruma Hiromi in utter ecstasy. All because of you.
He’d taken your seat from prior, chair angled perfectly to face the show taking place in front of him.
Where Nanami had your legs spread aaaaaall the way as far as they would go - until Nanami could hear your joints threatening to pop - and facing the dark-haired man. His dark eyes glinted as they stared down at your glistening hole, swallowing Nanami’s rams easily.
Slurps n’ squelches emanating like music.
Cunt dripping everywhere over the history teacher’s tight trousers. And the larger that puddle you were forming seemed to grow, the harder Nanami’s hammerin’ pace seemed to become.
You could barely keep your eyes open long enough to see Higuruma tug down his black pants- that throbbing erection of his making an appearance. He wraps his hands around his thickened base and starts tugging, soft grunts leaving his mouth at the rapid pull-pull-pull of his cock. “Shit, she’s so fucking wet- be a little nicer with that pussy o’ hers, would you?”
“Hmmm…I don’t think she deserves it.” And with that said, Nanami plants yet another sodden spank on top of your cunt. Ring grazing your front- “She hasn’t learned her lesson yet, has she?”
That stinging sensation zaps throughout your entire body and makes you buck. “I-I have—”
Before yet another thwack! of Nanami’s calloused fingertips follow.
Harder, this time.
“I was talking to this pussy, actually.”
And he doesn’t even wait for the primal sting to pass by before openin’ your cunt up and thrusting his fingers inside again. In and out.
Push after push into your gooey depths.
You’re so sensitive n’ wet by this point that even the slightest movements have you emanating out the loudest sounds. Squelches upon squelches—every time he’s hitting a spot deep inside your hole. “Mhmm…mmmhm.” You could feel Nanami’s head slightly nodding above your own, as if locked deeply in a conversation with your pussy’s sounds. Just one whine of yours and he’s spankin’ on you once more- “Wait your turn, my love. She’s talking t’me.”
And Higuruma- ah, Higuruma has the audacity to snicker at the action. “Now that’s just bullying, Kento.”
“Is it?” He’s slappin’ down on your pussylips once more. Listening for the sound, “She says it isn’t so.”
You’re sending a narrowed glare his way that makes the law professor roll his eyes fondly.
“Oh, alright alright-” And he half-heartedly waves off at his colleague. “Be a little nicer to my dear student, won’t you?”
“Spoiled brat.” Yet another spank. Nanami sinks his canines into the shell of your ear, and he’s tuggin’ and teasing—he’s spreading his legs even further and settling you down. With your back against his rippling chest, he pushes and pushes his greedy fingers inside your pussy. “And why do you think you- hah, deserve that, huh? Haven’t you been fucking torturing us all semester long now?”
Higuruma groans. “Can’t deny that, angel.” His hands fly even faster up and down his cock- ravaged and reddened with need.
“Mhmmmm.” The blond-haired man agrees, “Haven’t you been wearing those slutty skirts expecting to get fucked in them? Haven’t you- fuck, haven’t you been wearing that damn lingerie hoping we’d take a peak? Aren’t I right?”
He waits for your pussy to answer first- and then you’re answering. “I-I mean-” Attempting to.
“Haven’t you been bendin’ over and shit just because you wanted to show up in our wildest dreams? To consume our thoughts and make our cocks twitch?”
“Well-”
“And we did.” Higuruma pipes up next. He was so needy that he was practically bucking off of his chair, making it creak with movement. Short, jerky thrusts.
“Oh, yes we did.” Nanami continues. He leans down to your ear, as if exposing a secret- “I’d look forward to our classes everyday, my love. I’d have to fuck my fist raw before class- just so I wouldn’t fuck you senseless in front of everyone like how you were begging me to.”
Higuruma moans as he thumbs down the line of his flared tip - that pinkish, slippery line. He twitches as though he’s near to cumming already. “Me- me, too…”
“And you still expect me to be a gentleman?”
You’re restless, opening your mouth to defend yourself and—
Nanami only leans down and spits a glittery wad of spit between your pursed lips. “Don’t talk when the teacher’s talking, darling.”
And your ears pop with pressure-
He’s hittin’ the plushness of his palm against your pussy with a loud smack! Smearing the curves n’ divots of his fingers dooooooown and up your walls, down and up.
His crown fingertips reach for your deepest innards- and you swear you can feel him stroking your very cervix. Runnin’ his frigid ring across your walls.
Drawing a few lines and marking his placement right back there, before he tunnels his digits at a frenzied pace - fingers almost nothing but a pale blur between your legs. His speed is so feverish that it leaves your sheen tricklin’ all down your thighs.
Trickling and trickling and—
And then you feel Nanami hook his fingers against your g-spot.
The pleasure shoots up your body like a lightning strike, “O-oh my god—right there, Kento.”
“Kento? Who’s Kento?” Nanami doesn’t even falter his fingering to answer, cooing in that tone that you’d almost mistake for something sweet. “I think you meant sir-”
“S—fuck.”
“Say it.” He huffs against the side of your face. Teeth almost out for blood- “Say it. Call me ‘sir’ or you don’t get to cum.”
“I—”
“Say it.” Higuruma, to your surprise, echoes from his seat. Where he had his gaze burning into your spread-open pussy n’ his mouth drooling at the vision of you—“Say it, angel. I need to see that pretty pussy cum.” Hands rubbing faster and faster-
“She deserves to cum, mhm.” Nanami nods. “But do you, huh?”
“I-I do.” You’re nodding up at your desperate professors. One just barely in your line of vision- but his fingers were working up such a storm. His slightly-tanned arms pinning you down, working your pussy open, hitting that target of your g-spot like a cute button. Again and again—
Blond hair ruffled. Glasses slipping down his sweaty nosebridge.
And then the other one that was just creamin’ his precum down his hands. With his hands on his swollen erection - one of them creating a tunnel for him to fuck his fist, the other flattening over his dribblin’ divot to stop from cumming already.
Sleepy eyes half-lidded. His pale thighs shivering as they bucked n’ rutted.
And the vision itself is enough to make you cum- but then again it just felt so good on Nanami’s hands, and underneath Higuruma’s gaze. So you can’t help but let your lips wobble open—“P-please let me cum-” Stars bursting behind your vision once Nanami presses down on your clit as well. “-sirs.”
The two older men look at each other.
“Sirs?” Higuruma asks, voice breathless with ecstasy.
“She just begged for both of us.” Nanami grumbles out - though not quite unhappily. It made his cock twitch deep in his pants to have you whimperin’ like this, and he continues. “Alright then, you slutty pussy.”
And it takes only a few more strokes - a few more direct thrashes along your g-spot - for you to hurtle straight into your high.
It’s so strong that you’re seeing white behind your eyelids—and your mouth blabbers out an unintelligible combination of both professors’ names. Toes curling. Sweat beading down your temple.
Nanami holds you down as you’re thrown through wave upon wave of your orgasm, your hips bucking up and down desperately. Riding throughout your bliss- and if that wasn’t already enough, he counts underneath his breath to measure how long it takes between your peaks of euphoria. Before hittin’ away at your g-spot just in time with each one.
The sensations that take you over are just incredible.
And your head falls back limply against Nanami’s shoulder.
Shivering. Almost as if you were in heat- and your pretty pussy gushes out honeyed slick as though to give credit to that statement.
Lavishing Nanami’s open thighs with all your sap—Higuruma eyes the mess and gulps. “Kento, give me a taste of that.”
Nanami scoffs. “In due time.”
“Kento, I need her pussy on my face now.”
Slowly but surely, you’re fluttering your eyes open at the feeling of being shuffled around - only seeing the beautiful, brown eyes of Higuruma Hiromi staring down at you. When did he get so close?
“Hiromi?” You’re blubbering out stupidly, still suffering from the aftershocks of your previous high. Those zapping bursts of electricity made your thighs twitch sensitively- “I mean- sir?”
Higuruma shivers, “You trained her well, Kento.”
“Mhmmm—” Nanami noses down the column of your throat proudly.
“Maybe now it’s time for a reward then, huh?”
You’re perking up. “Yes, please.”
Nanami snickers. “You spoil her.”
And in almost no time, you’re finding yourself handed off to the law professor - Nanami stands up and gets off of the armchair. While Higuruma takes his place-
At least, that’s what you think is going to happen.
But what ends up happening instead is that Higuruma seats you down on the chair, letting your barely-clothed pussy rub up against the cushion. Something in his eyes gleams at the way you’re squirming, and he speaks to you in a gentle tone. “Can you turn around and hold the headrest f’me, angel? Be a good girl f’me?”
“A-alright?” Confused, you’re just doing what he says. He meant that you had to turn and climb your knees onto the seat, ass turned towards the professors, back slightly arched.
“Mmm, good.” Higuruma admires the view. “Arch that back just a little more f’me now, alright?”
“Like this?”
And still not sure what he was about to do, you can only follow his commands. It almost feels like a doggy position- and you hold onto the wooden headrest for dear life.
“Mhmmm.”
And Nanami’s the first to mutter to himself, “Don’t tell me you’re…” He takes in the sight of you - with your front resting against the backrest of the chair. You have your spine bent, your ass cheeks displayed for them, your cunt not quite on the seat—“Hiromi, you dirty dog.”
“Couldn’t help myself.” Steadily, Higuruma’s kneeling on the floor.
There’s no warning before he then shoves his face nose-deep into your cunt- straight from behind.
Higuruma grabs onto either side of your ass cheeks, his prominent nose curvin’ up the slit of your pussy. He’s using his grip on you to draaaag you further down onto his face—“Mhmmm—spread those legs.”
He’s muttering.
He’s spitting- stern lips pursing and letting out a rivulet of saliva.
It strikes vertically down your cunt before Higuruma’s running his fat tongue over it. Smearing around the mess he’s made- but most importantly, smearing around the mess that you’ve made.
You’re whining as Higuruma’s textured tastebuds seem to take over your pussy. All the way from the plumpness of your folds, and then dipping between them to tease your hole- you’re still so sensitive from the massage that Nanami’s fingers had simmered into you. And you’re trembling your thighs further open, “P-please- fuck-”
“I’m a lawyer so I’m really good with my tongue, y’know?” Higuruma pants out, scorching hot against your needy pussy. “But that means my fees are high, too-”
“A-and what are your fees?” You’re sobbing out.
“Mmmm…” He takes the time to think—and by that, you mean that he rovers his mouth over where your clit was throb-throb-throbbing. The law professor takes his sweet time spreadin’ open your pussylips with his tongue, before letting his tongue flop out n’ draaaaaag down your clit-
And his next words are so lecherously muffled. “Ride my nose raw, sugar.”
You gasp.
In the background, you can hear a gruff bout of laughter that notably doesn’t belong to Higuruma.
You grip onto the headrest of the chair harder than ever- because in a split-second, Higuruma’s thumbin’ your folds open and stuffing your hole all full of his tongue.
So loooong and slick- curving right against the roof of your pussy. It makes you jolt to feel his honed, flexible tip zig-zagging its way down your channel—mazing and mazing inside that it’s as though his wet muscle was never-ending.
Higuruma Hiromi was damn ravenous.
He feels your knees start to slip away from him- and he claws his fingers deep into the globes of your ass cheeks to pull you back. Uncaring if you’re whining for mercy- “A-aren’t you supposed to be the nice one, sir?”
“Spoiled.” Nanami’s voice echoes from the distance.
“Mmm- keep calling me that, yeah?” Groans wrenching from the back of his throat at the mere sound of that title being said in your pretty voice. How nice it was to make you beg. “And no—”
“No?”
“I am being nice by letting you ride my nose, aren’t I?” His head jerks just a little upwards to look at you- and Higuruma can just barely make out the shock on your face. “I know how much you’ve wanted to ride it-”
“Hiromi-”
“Ever since ya fuckin’ met me, huh?” His rough tone vibrates through every vessel of your body- pushed even further by the constant swabbin’ he was doing inside. Swab after swab. “Ever since ya first saw me- don’t think I didn’t see how you stared at me.”
You’re clawing further up the headrest. “B-but how did you know-”
“Oh, angel…” Higuruma almost chuckles. Something dark and depraved- “If I was wrong then you wouldn’t be so fucking wet- I can barely breathe.”
Both of his roughened palms plaster around your thighs. Draaaagging you bodily - as though you were nothing against him - to glue your pussylips to his own lips.
He makes out with your pussy like a man parched.
“And I don’t need to.”
Your vision blurs with pleasure as Higuruma spreads your folds perfectly apart- and starts rammin’ his tongue into you wildly. Thick and thirsty for the taste of your sweet, sweet juices—any time that even a mere droplet of your sap starts to drip down your thighs- you can best believe that Higuruma was whipping his head down to slurp it up. “Harder.”
“I-I am-”
“Faster.”
“Fuck-”
“Raw, I said raw.”
Practically addicted to it.
He’s pussydrunk in with just a few sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. And you yourself can feel your pupils start to circle inside the whites of your eyes.
Spreading yourself even further on the chair to meet his utterly ravenous mouth-
“Didn’t forget about me now, did you?”
Nanami Kento sounds the closest he’s been since he had you on his fingers- which could feel like minutes, hours, days ago by now. It takes you significant effort to blink away the clingy film of tears on your eyes, and you’re opening them to find that he was actually…standing right in front of you.
Nanami had rounded the side of the armchair - and if you looked up, there his handsome face was. So now you have your law professor at your behind, and your history professor’s crotch in front of your face. His pants much too tight.
His cock thick and throbbing underneath there.
Clasping onto the headrest of the chair, if you raised your head juuuuust a little then you’d be able to mouth over the twitching erection he hid underneath there. “K-Kento?”
Nanami looks down at you through his gold-rimmed glasses. Grinning at your teary expression, “Only a few minutes with your nice teacher n’ you’ve already forgotten your manners, my love?” His hand falls to his formal pants, “Guess we have to go back to lesson one.”
“O-oh…”
Nanami had already unbuckled his belt and lets it drop to the floor—clink! Followed right along with the popping of his buttons, it doesn’t take too long before you’re face-to-face with his rock-hard bulge. Achingly hard. Almost painfully hard.
Barely held together by his boxers, he seeps out such volumes of precum that it creates a dark patch on the silken fabric. It glistens just a bit under the dim lighting of the office- something that makes you gulp.
And something that makes Higuruma nudge his tongue even deeper inside of you- shit, you could feel yourself growing more aroused. And he could taste it.
“Did you know she gets sweeter n’ sweeter the wetter she gets?” Higuruma slurs from in-between your legs, latching onto your clit with a loud squelch! “And you won’t believe it…but right now she tastes like the tastiest strawberry candy- heh.”
“Is that so?” Nanami’s nose crinkles as he looks down at you. He’s admiring that drunken expression on your face for a little bit, before reaching his right hand down and clasping at the back of your head. “Filthy girl.”
You shiver. “C-can’t help it-”
“Ah ah—not another word out of you.” The blond-haired man continues. His grip tightens- “I expect you not to speak when your professor is speaking-”
Cocking his head just a little, Nanami takes a glance at the famished way that Higuruma was kissin’ between your legs. Gasping. Gulping.
He had his mouth gaped wide open and was dragging it across every inch of your pussy that he could reach- sticking that long tongue of his between your pussylips. You’re almost sandwiching his tastebuds for a bit before he manages to flicker his tastebuds inside again—then in and out, in and out, in and out.
Faster than before.
Reeling back out to slap! your pussy with the flat surface of his tongue.
Then probin’ back in again.
Higuruma’s just being so loud-
“-and when this pussy is speaking.” The rest of the history professor’s sentence makes you gasp - brain so muddled that you’d almost forgotten what he was saying. Almost forgotten that he has a firm grip on your sweaty scalp—one that he’d now turned into two hands upon your sweaty scalp.
Tugging your head forwards as if you were nothing but a ragdoll to smush your face against his boiling hot erection.
Your jaw falls open and soon enough, you’re salivating all over his clothed cock.
Tongue lavishing across the cotton of his boxers- feeling every ridge n’ vein along his shaft.
He groans at the feeling of your heated mouth, and his fingers dig into your scalp even deeper. Tugging. Needing. One set of your fingers reach upwards to fumble its hem, and you take Nanami’s round, reddened tip into his mouth.
Moaning at the large size of him.
Moaning at the salty taste that floods your mouth-
“Hey now…” Higuruma’s choked-up tone echoes from behind. You’re feeling his tender fingers start to pull your hips back onto his face, “-don’t steal my star student away.”
“Have you forgotten that she’s my star student, too?”
“Her pussy’s on my mouth right now- so who’s in charge?”
“Well, let’s ask how she feels about it…” Nanami’s voice trails off—and only too late are you realizing that he isn’t talking about your pussy this time. He’s talking about you- waiting for your answer.
And you’re attempting to muffle out something, letting the globular edge of his cock swirl around your mouth a few times. Around and around. Just the crown of his mushroom tip prods into your every orifice inside- you’re opening your mouth to answer when Nanami jerks his hips forwards.
Fucking his cock deeeeep into your maw.
And with it, whatever words were in your throat, too.
“I dunno about that-” Nanami hums down at the chokes n’ strangled gasps you’re letting out, just the barest noises of whatever was able to filter past his swollen shaft. “-but it sounded like a ‘you, sir’ to me.”
“Didn’t know you were that depraved.” Higuruma spits out. Dark eyes narrowed as he’s grinding you back to him n’ lapping away at your oversensitive pussylips.
“I’m a gentleman, what can I say?” The other professor responds.
As the slurps n’ sucking continues, Nanami looks at you through half-lidded eyes. He admires the way your mouth leaves a glittering glaze of spit from the tip of his cock and doooown to about halfway down his shaft—so cute how you couldn’t fit it all. “And as Head of your pussy-” Fuck, when did he even assign himself that? Is he pussydrunk already? “-I say you can’t cum until you’re fitting my cock aaaaaall the way…”
The history professor’s left hand lifts off of your scalp. Then dragging down the front of your throat - down, down, down.
“-here.”
He points to a spot way past the back of your throat.
He fucks your mouth like he’s agonized every second he isn’t reaching for it.
Higuruma growls.
And thereafter it’s almost like a tug-of-war - on one end you’re being hauled forwards by Nanami’s grip on the back of your head. His hands strong and unwavering, no matter much you’re gasping for air- fuck, the ever-gentlemanly Nanami Kento was gone for the feeling of your mouth tightening around his hot cock.
Rutting those toned hips up into your velvety cavern like an animal-
“Just a little more.” That left hand of his wraps around your throat now, his thumb markin’ at the spots where he can feel his rounded tip probing inside. “Just a liiiiittle more now- about four inches? Heh.”
“Mmm—” Your eyes go wide in surprise.
And Nanami responds by pushing his hips even further, nearing the tip of your nose to those curls of blond at his base. “C’mon, c’mon.”
And on the other end, Higuruma had his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. Into the flesh of your ass. His tongue fishing around your insides before he pulls out and starts nibblin’ on your damn clit—
He’s thirsty. Depraved.
“Noooo, angel.” He’s gluing his chin to the front of your pussylips. Head moving back and forth, back and forth, back and forth as the law professor lashes his tongue across. “Come back to me-”
“Mmm—” You’re being pulled off of Nanami Kento’s reddened, dribblin’ cock with a plop! Just from the sheer pressure of Higuruma manhandling your body from the other side - dragging you all down his handsome face. “Fuh-fuck-!”
“Where’d you think you’re going?” Only for Nanami to barely let you breathe for a split-second before he’s pulling your mouth down his shaft again.
Shovelling a gooooood few inches of his vein-covered cock inside- he marks that spot out on your throat. Even deeper than the last time you had him- “Mmm, not bad. Just a few inches- mmm, more.”
“Ride my nose.” Higuruma begs from the other end. Breath breezing down your gooey core, it makes your thighs shiver- “Ride my nose, I don’t care. Ride my nose, ride my nose—”
And you’re just so overstimulated from all ends.
From the draaagging of Nanami’s thumb down the front of your neck, from the sensual touch of Higuruma’s nose being sandwiched between your pussylips, from the pleasure of them both playing with your body. It’s as if you’re their favorite toy to taste, to fuck - to worship because of the way they were being driven to absolute madness by those carnal sensations.
You can only jolt your body back and forth.
Down Nanami’s cock. Up Higuruma’s ready face.
Riding his nose just like you wanted- “S-so—” Somehow barely managing to gurgle out past the pulsating tip of his cock, “So close-”
“Close?” Higuruma perks up. “Fuh-fuck- I have you, angel.”
“Remember- no cumming until you take it here.” Nanami presses his thumb somewhere near where your voicebox was bulging with the intrusion of his inches. “You’re not there yet, darling…”
“But-”
“Please let her cum.” But to your surprise, it’s your law professor who is pleading your face.
Nanami raises a blond brow, “Oh?”
“Let her-” He slurps away on your swollen nub- sensitive and throbbing. He’s hollowing his cheeks out to get that suctioning sensation, already making your knees feel weak with pleasure. “Need her to- fuck, want her to cum on my tongue. Let her cum already.”
Nanami thrusts even deeper, “Hmm…I dunno.”
“I’m the one asking you.” Higuruma grumbles. “Let her cum-”
“Mmmpf- please.” And your brows furrow as the pit of bliss in your stomach grows stronger.
“Let her-” The law professor continues, “I’m begging you- fuck, she’s becoming so sweet. Let her cum-”
Pale brows furrowing. Sweat lines down his temple- “I don’t…just fit-” And he’s scrapin’ his bulbous tip down the roof of your cunt—all the way along to the back of your throat and targeting even further. “If she takes it until-”
Higuruma’s nose helping your grinds and bounces. “Just let her cum-”
“If she takes it-”
“Fucking let her-”
“G-gonna—” It’s the last thing you’re managing to get out before a sudden slam! of Nanami’s hips shut you up- and before you know it, you’re feeling the carnal scratch of his pubic hair. The feeling of his tawny curls at your skin, the intrusion of his throbbing shaft all the way down your throat.
And his thumb tapping where he’d marked a treasure spot - a spot he was supposed to meet. Nanami doesn’t have to say a single thing for Higuruma to bite his sharp canines down on your clit.
And before you know it, you’re bursting into your nth high of the night.
Not just your second, but your third, perhaps even your fourth.
Stars burst behind your eyelids, and your moans are nothing but soft crackles at the back of your throat. Higuruma draaaaags you all throughout those waves of bliss, elongating them with the thorough lavishing of his tongue.
Probin’ into every sweet spot.
Inside and out.
He digs his fingers into your thighs, now accomplishing his dream of having you ride his nose. Because you’re being made to arch your back n’ bounce your hips lecherously up and across.
Hittin’ those best angles- the peaks of your high absolutely burst through you.
And Nanami? Your history professor was enjoying the view - cocking his head to the side and smiling as you shatter on Higuruma’s face. He watches about half your orgasm bate, before starting to fuck his swollen cock back in and out of you. Thrusting.
“Now now—” Nanami murmurs. “You should be thankful my rubric’s so generous this time.”
You can only look up at him with your teary eyes.
That sight is enough for him to bite down on his lower lip n’ stop himself from cumming. No, he had something more important in his mind…
“Thirty seconds to finish up.” He says meanly. “Before I either drag your pussy off of his face or you have to drag yourself off, m’kay?”
“Tch- stingy.” Higuruma keeps lappin’ at you even after your high has passed.
And once that thirty seconds of more bliss have passed - just like Nanami said - he grips both hands ‘round the back of your scalp and wrenches you off of his cock. Off of Higuruma’s mouth. He’s bending down to spit straight between your lips—
“Now, I’m gonna be nice this one time because you took all of me. Understood?” The history professor states, so firm. “Nod if you understand, my love.”
You nod.
“Good.” He then kisses your lips- tasting you, tasting himself. “Now…do you want it from the back or face-to-face? Because m’fucking you filthy either way.”
“From- from the back.” You pant out.
And Nanami gives a single, stern nod before he lets you go. “Brace yourself.”
You’re collapsing back into the chair—sitting your ass down on it this time. Before the law professor suddenly has you in his arms - he supports you in getting off of the armchair and standing up. Now in the middle of his office, you’re stumbling onto your wobbly feet.
Your arms loop around Higuruma’s neck. “Hiromi…”
“Mmm, I love it when you call me that.” Higuruma kisses you.
“How unruly.” Both of you snap your heads at the sound of buttons popping- only to find that Nanami was taking off his button-up. And you were right- fuck, you were so right. He was so thoroughly chiselled underneath, almost Herculean in nature.
With the most naturally defined ridges n’ curves of his muscles—his firm pectorals, his washboard abs, his meaty thighs that make an appearance.
Nanami sheds of all his clothes before he stares down the two of you- “Addressing your professor by name? Clearly going against objectives to get ready? Making me jealous? What an undisciplined class, no need to be standing around.” He looks at you, “I’ll be fucking you until you can’t stand, anyway.”
A shiver runs down your spine—“Oh.”
“Now, darling.”
Higuruma lets you waddle away to Nanami- who merely swivels you around and bends you over the edge of his colleague’s desk. Papers and ink flying everywhere across the office as he does.
Folding you forwards until your head hits the table. Kneeing your legs apart.
It’s hitting you like a truck - your history professor is about to fuck you against your law professor’s desk.
“Stay still.” He gravels in your ear.
Nanami’s barely letting you take a breath before rubbin’ his bulbous tip down your dripping wet slit from behind. Hand gripping his thick hilt—up and down. Up and down. Up and down. Getting his inches coated in a glaze of your sap, Nanami hums at the feeling of you attempting to contract around him.
“This naughty girl’s reeeeal needy for me, huh?” Scorching breath heating up your skin, he kisses down your arched spine. “She says she can take all of me- can you?”
“Y-yes—” You’re sobbing into the polished mahogany. Bucking your hips up, “I want it, sir.”
You’re jolting as his puckered, pinkish tip smooches at your wet entrance- he’s just so thick that he can plug your hole up easily. Nanami’s tip throbs against your hole, and he reaches a right hand down to feel your pretty stomach - to feel where he’s going to be hittin’ with his hungry cock.
He breathes out airily—“You want it?”
“Yes-”
“Say please.”
“Please-”
“Hmmm?”
“Please, sir.”
Nanami lurches his hips back, back, backwards- “As you wish then, teacher’s pet.”
And then you’re being stuffed with an inch or two of him.
And by stuffed—you were seriously stuffed.
Thick and thorough. Almost too big to even fit in - Nanami fills out the orifice of your cunt without even trying. His ruby-red tip just manages to squeeze between your pussylips, before the first ring of muscle at your entrance makes him falter.
And he’s gritting his teeth at the sheer tightness, voice coming out as nothing but a hiss. “Fuck- didn’t you say that you can take it?” He’s pressing his left hand down at the base of your spine, leaning his weight in to keep you still. “Come back, my love- class isn’t over yet.”
You hadn’t even realized you’d been clawing at the desk until now. “S-sir—”
Just that is enough to make Nanami’s ravaged tip twitch inside of you- spurting out a few more dollops of pre. “Yes, darling?”
“I d-don’t—” Fuck- you swear you could feel him grow even harder inside of you at the sight of your teary expression. Staring at your history professor over your shoulder, “I don’t know if it even can fit.”
“Awww, my poor baby.” And you should know better than to let Nanami Kento hush your cries, you should know better than to let him lull you.
But you can’t help but get pulled into his big, strong arms anyway.
“My poor, poor baby.” And from one corner of the room, you could hear Higuruma’s distant laugh. Although you don’t have the time to wonder what it means, because Nanami’s continuing- “None of those boys ever taught you how to take a real cock, hm?”
And you can only nod.
“None of those boys have ever fucked you right, hm?”
Nodding once more.
“Don’t you worry, darling. If you can’t take this one…”
He presses a chaste peck against your hairline. Letting his soft breath waft over the crown of your head, and his chest ripple with his words, soft.
“-m’gonna make it fit.”
And that’s the last thing you’re hearing before Nanami’s rammin’ his swollen, aching cock into you like an animal- his furious cockhead burrowing in deep.
He manages to shovel just a few more inches inside, before the snugness of your channel acts up once more. Leaving him barely even able to reel his hips backwards—just that much of a tight fit that’s making his eyes roll to the back of his skull.
He shakes.
His groan cracks at the back of his throat. “O-oh.” Both of Nanami’s hands fly to the sides of your hips, and his fingers fucking shake where he holds you. “Oh, yeah.”
“Shit-” You’re flinching at the scalding sensation of his breath. Gusting.
And even that mere shiver- Nanami catches onto it. And it’s only making him clasp your body even tighter, pulling you into him—“You’re really not getting away until we make it fit, my love. Good luck.”
No matter how much his ravenous hips are rutting n’ bucking and trying oh-so-desperately to hammer even more of his inches inside- he can only fuck you in short, needy half-thrusts. The rest of him left to throb wildly behind you, he keeps on stretching and stretching your insides just to fit inside.
Each one of his bucks so desperate. So greedy.
The pointed tip of Nanami’s cockhead prods away at your innards as though he’s trying to claim every single ounce of space inside you-
“Have you forgotten that this is a joint class, Kento?”
Higuruma’s voice is enough to send pulses of adrenaline flowing through your body - and you’re just managing to look around Nanami’s toned frame. The law professor stands behind the two of you with his arms crossed, clothes mostly on except for his trousers being tugged down.
He held his blushin’ cock in one hand, pumping furiously at the sight of his star student.
Nanami himself sighs—though he doesn’t stop his sloppy scouring of your innards for a single second. He looks straight at the other man as he asks- “Oh yes…would you like her now or after me, Hiromi?”
“Now.” Higuruma narrows his heady eyes at the two of you. And the blond-haired man slightly growls at his answer, seemingly grappling with the thought of leaving your pretty pussy right about now- “But don’t pull out.”
You feel like you’re experiencing whiplash. “What?”
Nanami only raises a sharp brow.
And Higuruma himself can’t help but crack a sleazy smirk-
Before you know it, he’s rounding the two of you. Coat off. White button-up flapping open.
He tugs on the smooth, black tie that was hanging haphazardly from his neck- and gestures something indiscernible at the other man.
Though, clearly both professors understood.
Because one second you’re slouched on top of Higuruma’s desk, droolin’ stupidly over some important documents as Nanami Kento pounds you into oblivion - and in the next second, he’s lifting you off of it.
Cleanly off the desk.
One hand wrapped around your waist, the other putting you in a headlock.
He pulls you up as though you’re nothing- and you’re ogling the way his biceps bulge around your throat. Feeling the cushy firmness of his strength—“W-what are you-”
“D’you know what a standing full nelson is?” Higuruma asks. And for a second you think he’s asking you - maybe this was some strange sort of quiz - but then Nanami nods.
“Thought that only happens in fiction? Don’t tell me you’re a secret freak, Hiromi?” He scoffs, though he pulls out either way.
“And look who’s talking…” Then Higuruma looks at you and taps his shoulders. “Hold on, angel, he’s going to lift you.”
“Shit…”
As expected, you’re holding onto Higuruma’s broad shoulders for leverage- whilst Nanami bends and loops his hands around your legs. His strong forearms where your knees were.
Scooping you up into his arms.
Holding them up.
Holding you up.
Hoverin’ well over six feet in the air.
Yelping, you’re digging your nails into the law professor’s shoulders - but if it hurt, then he doesn’t’ react to the pain. Honestly, you don’t even think he could feel it right now—because Higuruma was holding out his tie.
Measuring it against your face-
Tying it around your face like a blindfold.
He knots it at the back of your head, and suddenly the room is curtained in nothing but pure black. You could only hear the gruffness of both men’s chuckles, and Higuruma asking. “Everything alright, angel?”
“Of course, it is.” Nanami mutters- almost to himself. Though he does stretch your legs a little wider, presumably to show to the other man—“Look how fucking drenched she is.”
“Good girl.”
“Naughty, you mean.”
“I must beg to differ.”
And you’re arching against Nanami’s toned front, the plushness of his abs digging against your back. It was the most sensual massage you’ve felt in your entire life- “Please- ngh, what’s with the blindfold?”
“Oh, that…” Higuruma starts. “Guess.”
“What?”
“Guess.”
Brains wracking- “You aren’t going to leave me hanging, are you?”
“No.”
“Is this a roleplay?”
“No.”
“A kink thing?”
“Well…”
“A BDSM thing?”
“Guess.”
You’re feeling helplessness wash over you—“B-but, I already did-”
“No, my love.” Nanami’s the one to speak up this time. He leans down so that he’s pressing an innocent kiss to the edge of your hairline, “We’re going to make this slutty pussy guess which one of us she’s being fucked by.”
Your jaw drops.
And your cunt grows even wetter.
An occasion that the two professors are watching with awe-
Higuruma in particular finds himself breathing out—“And your time starts…now.”
And then you’re hearing the shuffling of his trousers- right before a sudden proddin’ intrusion starts up at your entrance. It was hot and throbbing—so needy that your teeth are set on edge by the sheer volume of precum that he was emptying out.
You’re feeling his thick tip start to eeeease in- squeezing in past the tightness of your channel for a bit before pulling back and fucking you ruthlessly in semi-thrusts.
“H-Hiromi?” You guess. Surely, with him being the one that was removing his trousers it must be…
“Wrong.” Nanami grins.
And then you’re feeling his cock give you a few vicious pumps before he’s pulling away - leaving you all empty and yearning for more. Your glistening hole clenches a few times around nothing, before a sudden globular tip starts kissin’ your entrance once more.
You’re bucking back in Nanami’s arms in an attempt to figure out just who it might be- but the history professor holds onto you firmly. Not a single inch.
Not a single inch less.
Whoever was fucking you takes no more time before swabbin’ his swollen erection inside once more- biting back a groooan at the feeling of your tightening walls.
It’s the same short, jerky thrusts from before just to fit in.
“Sir?” You’re gasping out. But surely, it can’t be twice in a row…“No wait- is it Hiromi this time?”
The cadence of his hips stops abruptly. “Can’t get enough of the law, can you?”
Nanami.
And you don’t know whether it’s the fact that you’re just feeling your brain melt at the sheer stimulation between your legs, you don’t know whether it’s the fact that both handsome men had you sandwiched between their muscular bodies—it was just driving you wild. Making you stupid.
A line of drool slicks down the side of your mouth, and Nanami doesn’t hesitate before leaning in and lickin’ it off. “I should punish you for this.”
“I-I—oh, fuck.” Whatever words were on the tip of your tongue get swallowed up by the feeling of yet another round, ruddied cockhead pushing inwards. Pulsing. Prying apart your walls. And you’re noticing that this one is slightly slimmer than the last, more pointed, more honed, more of its curvaceous tip that tilts to the left.
It makes you shiver at the feeling of his bawling divot dragging across your walls so perfectly. “Is this- sir-”
“Try again, angel.”
It was a struggle to piece your thoughts together, and Higuruma’s voice is the only thing that makes you realize-
“Hiromi.”
“Mhmmm—” Before you know it, the other man has one hand dipping between your jittery legs. His fingers easily locate your clit to tug n’ pry like the cutest gummy - how sweet. And he’s timing it to the constant probes of his looooong, smooth cock. “Good girl. A++ for that.”
“You’re quite the generous grader.” Nanami scoffs. “I would have given that a B.”
“What can I say? I do have a soft spot for her…” Higuruma’s cock was slightly lengthier than Nanami’s, you’re noticing - though not quite as thick. And with less veins that didn’t massage your inner orifices as much, but made it soooo much easier for him to slip even deeper.
Especially with this position, he manages to probe his cockhead further past where Nanami’s thicker one was able to fit.
Reaching almost for your throat with his blushing, frenzied tip- Higuruma gives a final roll over your clit before he’s pulling out. Letting a few ribbons of sap gush down your legs after him-
Ones that are being fucked right back up with a second length.
Thicker. Harder.
Throbbing so much that you swear you can count them all the way at the top of your head- Nanami’s shaft was next. And he’s lavishing your entrance with so much attention—draaaaagging his vein-decorated shaft in and out. In and out. In and out.
“S-so?” He rasps out from behind. Higuruma’s cockhead had mazed open your insides just a bit more, and Nanami struggles not to let his voice tremble. “Which one of us, darling?”
“Y-you—”
That earns you a bite on the shell of your ear. “No.”
Before he’s pulling back out.
And your breath catches- “Wait- I meant sir. It’s you, sir—”
“Too late for that now.”
“Awww, come now.” Higuruma coos as well. “How are we supposed to make an example out of our star student if she just keeps makin’ mistakes?”
“I think she’s gettin’ lazy now, huh?” The other man responds. And now both of their ruddied cockheads were droolin’ all over your entrance- mixing with the sweetened syrup that was already dripping out of you and creating such a mess. “Maybe she doesn’t deserve our cocks at all?”
“Don’t say that—” You could feel your law professor’s eyes turn to you. “You deserve it- hah, don’t you, angel?”
Shivering at the feeling of both cocks sandwiching between your pussylips. Now that they’d both pulled out- it’s as if they were fighting over who can be next. Rubbin’ and teasing. “I do—” Your voice cracks on that last note, “P-please, I do-”
“I’m still not convinced.”
Higuruma continues, “Promise us you’ll be a good girl? That you’ll listen to what your professors have to say?”
“I will I will-”
“Promise us that no more of that teasin’ stuff in class?” His prominent nose slides down the column of your throat, breathing in your essence. “None of that bending over?”
“Yes—” But you could already hear the question in your throat - and it seems that they could, too.
And it makes Nanami gruffs out. “Because - forgive us - but you do realize that it’s not just us seeing your little…display, darling?” He spreads open your legs even wider, and Higuruma’s ministrations grow even more frenzied on your clit. Squeezing. Pinching. Flicking.
And you’re restless- “Wh-what do you mean?”
“I mean to say that there are others more…undeserving that see those legs of yours, those panties, those tits.” There’s a sharp edge to his words—“Those boys in class can’t take their eyes off of you.”
“We can’t either, of course.” Higuruma responds. Squeezing his cock inside- “But at least that little performance of yours is meant for us, right?”
“Don’t like the way they look at you.” Nanami’s also squeezing his cock inside now - both of them bullying your hole at once. Creating a stretch that makes your vision go white- so much carnal stimulation that your entire body wracks with shakes. “Don’t like the way they turn to look. Don’t like the way they have to mysteriously…disappear into the bathrooms any time you do your little show.”
“Given…we do the same.” The law professor continues—“Because fuck- how fuckin’ pretty you look all dressed up in silk. Makes it hard not to cream my pants everytime I see you- but none of those boys have the balls to back that admiration up.”
Giving you a thorough slam—both of them.
Higuruma’s the one to continue, “But we do.”
“Because I rub my cock raw to you, my love.” Nanami ends off, holding you close to him. “N’ none of those boys could ever fuck you like we do.”
“Yes, p-please—” And you’re pushed between both of their sculptured fronts. Unable to see them- but you could feel the ridges and curves of their muscles, the way they were both leaning in as though they couldn’t get enough of you. “I only want…ngh.”
One of your arms wrap around Higuruma’s neck, and the other reaches behind you to attempt to clasp onto Nanami’s.
“Just want the two of you…”
“Hmmm…” Nanami’s cock twitches at your gooey entrance- “A+”
And then they’re alternating between fucking you—
“Hiromi.” You’re gasping at the intrusion of his smoothened tip, the velvety texture of him reaching for so many spots inside you but most importantly- that g-spot.
And then he’s pulling back out.
“Sir- fuck, Professor Kento.” Nanami swabs his thickened tip inside and hits that precise spot. Although he decides to take it a few steps further this time and dig his rounded tip into the very back of your pussy, bottoming-out. “Shit shit shit—”
Thrust after thrust.
Pulling out. Shovelling back in.
Making you guess just which one of your two older professors were takin’ over your pussy right now- it made your head dizzy just trying to keep track. Bounced up and down in their arms.
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Professor Kento.”
“Hiromi—” Before your voice shatters at the feeling of…two thickened lengths attempting to fit inside. Fighting against the resistance for a few sloppy strokes before they’re siiiiiiiiiiiinking in- “And Professor K-Kento, sir…” The feeling of their large, slick-glazed cocks were just incredible - rubbin’ against your walls and one another. Like nothing earlier.
It was a stretch like you’ve never felt before, hittin’ spots that you didn’t even know you had.
And both professors held onto your shaking body tight- they shovelled their lengths in and out of you. Two blushin’ cockheads heading for your g-spot, before their slide-slide-sliiiiiding all the way down to end up at your cervix.
Stretching apart your walls.
Making your channel bulge.
Letting the curves of their mushroomy tips drag apart your walls, n’ press into the sweetest spots of your nerves. Both of their heavy ballsacks smack-smack the front of your cunt right on time with their thrusts. Thrust after thrust.
Again and again.
Nanami grunts at the sensation of Higuruma deep inside you, “F-fuck…”
“You can say that again.” Higuruma himself replies.
By now, the jostlin’ about had meant that your blindfold was falling off- and you could see the two men upon either side of you. Shovelling their hot cocks deep inside your pussy, positively ravaging you.
The law professor’s fingers weren’t letting up on your clit just yet, either.
He quirks his digits just a bit to draw a little heart upon it—and soon enough you find yourself throwing your head back with a moan. “G-gonna-”
“Shhhh—” Nanami grins. His ears keenly listen to the noises from between your legs - they were just so much louder now that you had two thickened shafts ramming into you. “This pussy says she’s gonna cum soon, darling.”
“Y-you little-”
A harsh hammerin’ on your spongy cervix. “Pardon, my love?”
“Nothing—oh.” Even their thrusting styles were different - Nanami Kento with his thorough, solid slashes as though he was trying to reach your womb every single time. And Higuruma Hiromi with slightly slower, smoother glides of his cock - soothing through the nooks n’ crannies that Nanami had activated first.
It was the perfect combination.
Naughty and nice.
Though not exactly in the way you’d initially thought.
And perhaps this manner was what was making you so desperate to cum again- “Please-” Gasping. “Let me cum—”
You’re looking between a grinning Nanami and Higuruma. Dazedly.
“Please may I-” Choking out in-between the moans and droplets of saliva that were gushing out of you- falling onto Higuruma’s puffed-out chest. “-cum, sirs?”
Both of their rock-hard cocks twitch deep inside of you.
And you’re briefly seeing a silent conversation pass between them-
“Go ahead, angel.”
“Cum all over my cock, darling.”
And it might have been minutes, it might have been seconds, it might have been split-seconds later once you’re crashing into your high. The waves of white-hot pleasure taking over you until it felt like your body was burning up.
Feverish.
You’re crying out as you attempt to bounce your lewd hips back into both their shovelling shafts- but they’ve already got you. They’re holding onto your perspired body - so limp now with pleasure - and lettin’ their pointed cockheads hit each and every nerve bundle inside.
Pinpointing your g-spot with their lengths.
Targeting it especially through peak after peak.
After peak.
Your cunt trickles with honeyed slick- and it slips between your three bodies to drench Higuruma and Nanami’s cocks. Their thighs. Their bodies.
Making it even louder to thrust into your cunt—you’re forced to raise your voice just a little just so that they can hear. “Sh-shit…” Until eventually you’re feeling so raw on their relentless cocks that you’re unsure whether you want them to elongate those waves of bliss or whether you want to fucking run away—“It feels so- oh, it feels…”
“And what do we say?” Nanami’s deep baritone croons out. He doesn’t slow down for a single second as he speaks- even though he himself was feeling a little sensitive by this point.
He hits his full ballsack against the front of your cunt and hisses- “Can I have it all inside…” You’re looking between them with wide, heart-shaped pupils. “-sirs?”
And you should’ve known what that would do.
You should’ve known how much that would break them.
Because with only a few final thrusts, both Higuruma and Nanami cum inside you with loud slurps! of your greedy cunt. Gobblin’ up all those white ropes of seed that they were emptying out - sheer volumes that they’d been holding onto for hours, days, this entire semester.
Nanami furrows his golden brows and presses his face into the crook of your neck. Groaning as he fucks you through his orgasm, “A-and here I was just expecting a thank you…”
“Our girl always was the sweetest.” Higuruma coos.
Your history professor rides through his high with his teeth grit, jaw working overtime to keep his noises to a minimum - he wanted to hear your soft gasps and groans even more. Though his body shakes as it keeps on thrummin’ with pleasure.
Visceral.
Meanwhile, your law professor let out such husky grunts after each splat! of cum that he emptied out against your womb. He couldn’t even handle fucking you properly anymore and his hips kept on stutterin’ through his waves.
Cheeks flushed. Gaze locked on you.
He didn’t want to tear it away.
Both of them are cumming so much that you nearly can’t tell who’s who - with their dollops of heated, syrupy sap. Each divot bawling them out messily—you can feel them stick against the end of your pussy, right where your cervix was, before being stirred about by the motions of their cylindrical shafts.
Their prominent veins massagin’ your sweetest spots. Their globular cockheads pumping every single droplet inside you.
Every single droplet.
Not a single bead of that ivory cum escapes—but they’re both still looking at each other with the same idea.
And you’re seeing yet another silent conversation pass between them that you miss. “Oh?”
In almost no time, Higuruma and Nanami have you splayed out on the polished desk - back against its flat surface, legs held high in the air. This time, however, both their faces were between your pussylips and attempting to beat the other—
They were lappin’ their dual tongues over your leaking cunt like they were starved.
Nanami’s hand pressing down on your stomach to make a few more droplets spray out of your hole- Higuruma’s hand flicking over your clit still.
You lean back on your elbows and watch them.
And what a sight it was: both their handsome faces between your legs.
They nudge their noses against the creamy layers on top of your cunt, and swivel the mess around like mad. You could see through your tears the exact moment - the exact moment - that their pinkish tongues meet in the middle.
Where Higuruma’s tastebuds overlap with Nanami’s as they’re suckling on your clit- and they both flinch at the sensation before moaning—
And that’s before the door clicks.
“Oi, why are the lights still on? Don’t you know that campus has closed a long time ag-”
You pause.
Nanami pauses.
Higuruma pauses.
And so does Professor Shiu Kong - Head of the Mathematics Department, also PhD with Distinction.
His jaw drops as his eyes drift over from the mess of clothes on the floor, to the mess that’d been made of you. Bite marks all over your throat. The blindfold still around your neck. And even more - you could see the way his hands tighten on his files as his gaze probes deeper, taking in your leaking, lecherous cunt.
No one moves.
Except for Shiu, who steps inside.
Your heart was in your throat.
Getting ready for a berating of some kind- or potentially even worse. Perhaps a suspension, perhaps Nanami and Higuruma would be fired at once-
“So…” Shiu’s husky voice interrupts your thoughts. “-got room for mathematics?”
A/N. Heheheheh ofc we got room for youuuuuuuuu Shiu <33
Plagiarism not authorized.
Invisible Strings: Chapter 16
★ characters: uzui tengen x readers
★ synopsis: The sequel of Parallel Lines
★ content warnings : minor manga spoilers
★ author’s note; hello? HAHA
not me taking 3 years to update 😅
but hey, better late than never, right? life got so busy after i started my current job, and i also went through a really nasty case of writer's block, so i'm really, really sorry for disappearing 🥲
life happened (still happening, tbh), but! at least here's an update for you guys.
lol is anybody still reading this though??
ANYWAY.
i hope you enjoy the update! if it’s not too much to ask, please do leave a comment or just say hi — i missed you guys! 💖
-
“SANEMI!”
Ignoring your objections, Sanemi swung his Nichirin sword with a heart-breaking war cry—but he didn’t strike.
Or he wasn't able to.
The blade stopped inches from Tengen’s neck, trembling violently in his grip. The steel shook not from hesitation but from the sheer force of another blade clashing against it.
Giyuu.
Broken, bleeding, barely conscious, but there he stood—his broken, blunt sword wedged between Sanemi’s and Tengen’s throats.
“No,” Giyuu croaked. “Not this way.”
Sanemi’s eyes flared with fury and grief. “Get out of my way, Tomioka!”
“You’ll kill him and her in the process.”
“She’s clinging to him! He’s losing control!”
Giyuu’s eyes flashed.
“Then we take the risk and fight harder. We don’t kill our own. Not again.”
“You’re stalling!” Sanemi shouted, voice cracking.
“Muzan’s inside him, and you’re wasting time playing savior!”
“You think I don’t know that?!” Giyuu barked back.
“You—!”
A snarl echoed behind them.
Muzan.
“Touching,” the Demon King sneered. “Two broken swords trying to play heroes.”
Tengen suddenly jerked—eyes wide, claws twitching, and in one terrible second, he involuntarily lashed out.
Your back arched as his claws slashed through your side and shoulder, cutting deep. You cried out, your voice raw with pain. More blood bloomed instantly across your hospital gown, and your vision blurred.
“Y/N!” Sanemi and Giyuu both screamed.
Tengen froze.
His claws were red.
With your blood.
“No—no, no, no,” he whispered, staggering back in horror. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t—”
You fell.
He caught you before you hit the floor, trembling.
His mind spiraled.
“What have I done?! I knew what I was doing... and I still couldn’t stop.”
Sanemi ran to your side, Giyuu right behind him.
But Sanemi froze halfway, eyes locked on Tengen—bloodied, stunned, and not fighting back.
“You—!” Sanemi roared, fury consuming him. He lunged toward Tengen, shoving him back with a snarl. “Damn you—!”
He raised his sword, grief blinding him—
Tengen didn’t move. He didn’t raise a hand in defense—still cradling you in his arms, as if shielding you even now from the consequences of his own mistake.
Giyuu stepped between them, grabbing Sanemi’s arm. “Sanemi—enough! She’s still alive. She needs you.”
Sanemi’s breath caught, chest heaving. He looked back at you, blood soaking through Giyuu’s haori pressed to your wounds.
“She’s still breathing,” Giyuu said again, firmer this time. “She’s going to be okay.”
Sanemi sank to his knees beside you, his anger giving way to helplessness.
“She won’t be if we don’t end this now,” he whispered, angry tears stinging his eyes.
Tengen set you down gently, his hands shaking. He stood.
Your consciousness was slipping fast, but before it faded, you looked up at him. He was still a demon, but something had shifted. His eyes were clear, no longer glazed by Muzan’s control. His body was tense, but his will was unmistakable. He had broken free. Like Nezuko. Like Tamayo.
Tengen was moving on his own.
He turned to Muzan.
“You failed,” he said. “You made me a demon. And I still chose them over you.”
Muzan’s eyes narrowed. “That won’t save you.”
“No, and I don't care,” Tengen said. “But it’ll end you.”
He launched forward, claws against claws, each blow cracking the walls. This time, Muzan wasn’t facing a pawn. He was facing a demon who answered to no one.
Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Obanai, and Mitsuri closed in. Zenitsu struck fast. Obanai’s serpent held tight. Mitsuri threw her body into the fray. And Tanjiro, burning with Sun Breathing, slashed through Muzan’s back.
Muzan shrieked.
Tamayo crawled across the ground, vial in hand.
“Tengen, take this!”
He crushed it. Gold flooded his veins. His claws gleamed. His strength surged. His body steadied. Balanced. Burning with resolve.
Tengen struck again. This time, his hit didn’t just wound Muzan.
It burned him.
Muzan let out a strangled scream as his flesh refused to regenerate.
Sanemi and Giyuu stood on either side of you, bloodied and breathless, their eyes fixed on the battlefield.
“Tch,” Sanemi muttered, voice hoarse. “Stubborn bastard actually pulled it off.”
Giyuu didn’t respond right away. He just watched Tengen in silence, then said quietly, “He’s not fighting for himself.”
Sanemi didn’t say anything right away. His jaw clenched as his gaze tracked Tengen, now a blur of motion and gold. Then he let out a short, bitter breath and glanced down at you.
“He's putting on a damn light show again,” he muttered. “Bet he thinks you’re watching.”
Giyuu, still steadying your bleeding side with his haori, replied quietly, almost to himself, “She always watches him.”
There was a pause. No bite. No sarcasm.
Only a shared, silent understanding as they both looked ahead—at the man who was still fighting for you.
And this time, you were alive to see it.
Strike after strike came—Tanjiro, Zenitsu, Obanai, and Mitsuri—all in perfect sync with Tengen. Muzan flailed, desperate, shrieking.
You stirred. Your fingers twitched. Your eyes fluttered open.
And you saw him. Through the haze of blood and dimming vision, your eyes found Tengen, wounded, monstrous, and glowing. He wasn’t looking at you. He couldn’t. Every fiber of his being was locked onto Muzan. His claws were bared, his muscles tight with purpose, and though he was still a demon, there was no trace of the madness anymore. He moved with resolve. With clarity. With love. He was fighting for you.
You wanted to call out to him, to say his name, to tell him you were still there. But your voice wouldn’t come. Your body was too heavy, too cold. The last thing you saw was the flicker of gold in his veins as Tamayo’s serum surged through him, just before he threw himself back into battle one final time. And then, the darkness swallowed you whole.
You didn’t see Muzan’s last scream as he was torn apart, his form disintegrating into ash. You didn’t see the silence that followed, the stillness in its aftermath. There was no final explosion. No cinematic flourish. Just dust. And quiet.
Tengen collapsed to his knees. His first breath afterward was your name. Somehow, across the void you’d slipped into, you heard it. Faint but real. And your fingers, bloodied and weak, twitched, then closed around his hand.
That was all it took.
He held on just long enough to know you were still with him.
Then, as if his body had permission to rest, he fell into unconsciousness, hand still wrapped around yours.
-
TAGLIST: @babygirl-panda19 @hypnocountrymusicfunnyfan @qdreamueen @exodarkwolf16 @vesta-ro
uhm hello
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i recently got my heart broken

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I just wanted to pop by and say I started reading your rules and roses story. Holy Lordy! It’s so good! 😊
thank you so much! it just sucks that i'm too busy atm to write an update 😭 hopefully soon!
Girl when you coming back
hey! hopefully soon ;-; work has been really hectic lately.
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲
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𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))
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‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’
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Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’
Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.
Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.
You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.
Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.
Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.
“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.
His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”
Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.
Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.
“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.
Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.
Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.
Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.
Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”
Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.
Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.
You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.
He needs to make you cum.
Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.
Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.
Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.
“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.
Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”
His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.
Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.
Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.
Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.
Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.
Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.
Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.
“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.
Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.
Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.
Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”
Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.
“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.
Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.
Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.
Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”
Oreo creampie’s m.list
𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭, 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: quiet nerd!pleasure dom!choso, heavy praise/light degradation, dacryphilia, choso has a size kink, choso’s pov, oral (giving and receiving), knife play/no blood, light pain kink, pussy drunk/obsessed choso, squirting, fingering, light begging, light choking
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 @vampress7; Hi baby girl I hope you’re doing well, I have an idea: nerdy, loner, and unassuming freak choso who absolutely wrecks reader after class during a study session ((I need this so badly))
‘He is wearing those sweat pants, I keep sneaking glances at his cock, I wanna see it. No need to see it, I'm dying of thirst! He can feed me his cum! I don't really care much for giving blow jobs but something about Choso makes me wanna gobble his cock till he is a whiny mess.’
‘Damn ily but you’re down too bad for a man you haven't even touched.’
‘I cant help it! Have you seen Choso?! I want to hear how he sounds when he cums.’
‘Aren’t yall supposed to study for friday’s exam you can’t fail this one!’
Writen in your text bar; ‘its hard to focus on what he’s saying. Choso’s thick arms in his black muscle t-shirt’
Choso’s cheeks are burning, his ego swelling, nerves churning, and disbelief whispering. Sliding his fingers through his hair, there is no denying you want him.
Glancing down at his cock, perfectly outlined by his thin sweats. His cock is getting warmer, longer, and thicker with each soft pulse. If you want his cock, you can have it any way you’re willing to take it.
You come back holding the fuzzy stripped criminal. “He broke my lamp, got it cleaned up but he’s ground.” You bend over for Jasper to jump to the floor, running away from you with his fluffy tail in the air.
Your shorts rising up your soft ass. “I’d hit ya from the back if I didn't want to see the face you make when you take my fat cock first the first time.” Your beautiful eyes widen, locking onto your phone in his hands.
Grabbing his hard cock, stroking himself through his sweats. You glance down. “Im torn between wanting to fuck that bratty mouth outta ya and eating you out till you’re trembling.” Your mouth looks so sweet and fuckable. You’d look so beautiful sucking his cock with tears running down your face.
“For me to be a good teacher I need to help you focus. If I help you cum will you pay attention more. We can snuggle while we study.” Holding your phone out for you to grab. Quickly discarding it on the coffee table.
His heart beating faster when you get on your knees in front of him. “If you were paying attention to the text then you’d know,” tugging his sweatpants down, “I won't be able to pay attention until I hear what sounds come out of that pretty mouth of yours.”
Moaning when you grab his cock, your hand soft, in your hand his cock has never looked so big before. “You can hear me moaning in your soft cunt. I don't think you understand nnn!” Loudly moaning when you take his cock into your hot wet mouth.
Bobbing your head, taking him deeper with slow strokes soothing the uncomfortable tighteness building in his of his cock. “Honeybun I jerked off to the thought of eating you out before comin’.” Cupping your cheek, jerking hips fucking your soft wet mouth.
“Been slutting you out in my head since ya walked into class.” Choso leans his head back, sliding his fingers through his soft dark hair. “We can do both, Im dying to taste ya sloppy cunt. I'll gag you with my fat cock nnnn oh fuck that’s iiittt! Grabbing a handful of your hair, fucking your soft mouth till spit is dripping down your chin.
Choso is getting off on your beautiful eyes sparkling with tears that trickle down your cheeks. “Are ya gonna be my whore help me take care of my fat cock?” Pulling you off his cock with a soft pop. His too heavy to stand up, hitting his cock.
Grabbing his cock, smacking his tip on your lips. “Wish it stood up, but what can ya do?” He knees wobble when you cup his balls. Lovingly kissing along his cock, easing the ache and tension, with sweet soft pleasure.
Your hand feels so good, his cock softly tingling. Smiling up at him. He can feel his heartbeat in the quickly pulse of his cock. “You’re so perfectly thick and heavy that you hang, nothing wrong with that handsome.” Licking up his cock, swirling your tongue around his fat head. He groans when watches himself slip inside.
Letting go of your hair, slipping his hands beneath your shoulders. Picking you up, you wrap your soft thighs around his waist. He feels strong holding you close, keeping you safe. “Gonna take good care of you, and your sloppy cunt.”
Squeezing your ass, carrying you with one hand. You grab a handful of his hair, and a tingle shoots down his spine when he feels your nails. “Bedroom is the last room on the right.” Taking you down the hall. “Please all I want is you. Wanna be your whore, ruin anyone else for me with your fat cock.” Trailing loving kissing along his jaw, his cheeks burning.
Opening and shutting the door behind himself. “Ill show you how badly I've been needing ya.” Gently setting you down, closing your curtains. Taking his shirt off, dropping it on the floor.
You’re making quick work of taking your shirt and shorts off. Admiring your beautiful body Choso forgets everything he’s doing. You give him one thought when you spread your legs showing him your soft wet cunt.
He needs to make you cum.
Kneeling, grabbing your soft thighs putting them over his shoulder. “So so so beautiful.” Kissing your soft clit, gently sucking, steadily stroking you with his tongue. Making sure his barbell rubs your clit with his swipe.
Nudging a thick finger into your tight cunt. You’re perfectly soft and wet, clenching his finger. Slowly pumping his finger, he’s going to find your g-spot. Clenching his head with your soft thighs. Grabbing his hair tugging, he groans from the sweet pain.
Focusing on your sweet spot. Taking pride in how easily you tremble because of his tongue and finger.
“They say the quiet ones are freaky, what about you? What do you think about when you're touching yourself?” Choso doesn't want to take his face out from between your legs. He’s found heaven, but he can't ignore your question.
Rising up, causing you to fall on your back, your legs over his broad shoulders. His cock hangs, his tip lightly grazing your soft, wet cunt. “Wanna take you to mine, get you high, give you a safe word,” trapping your head in between his hands, “tie you up, drag a knife across your skin, see you squirm, help you cum, hear you cry and beg to be my sweet little whore.”
His cock aches from having you folded up beneath him. “I wouldn’t mind trying some freak shit, get a knife from the kitchen.” Kissing your forehead, cheeks, and soft cunt. Carefully slipping your legs off his shoulders.
Choso is quick to grab a large knife from your kitchen.
Leaning over you, “Safe word is red.” Lining his cock with your soft cunt, rolling his hip. Dragging the knife up your side, gently kissing your soft lips. Groaning, grinding his thick cock on your sloppy cunt.
Squeezing your neck, pinning your hips with his, keeping you from squirming too much. Slipping his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss. You’re so needy, and desperate, digging your nails into his back.
Loosening his grasp on your neck. “Ya good sweetheart?” Dragging the knife over your soft nipple, pulling his cock away. You’re so sexy, stuffing two thick fingers in your sweet cunt. “You’re getting so sloppy for me.” Curling his fingers, remember where your sweet spot is.
Smirking with pride when you moan, “Chooo please please please!” Gliding the knife down your stomach. Marveling at how you squirm, your cunt getting so tight around his thick fingers.
Your cunt’s lips and puffy clit wet, soft and beautiful. “I’m obsessed with how sexy you are begging’ for me, clenching my fingers.” Pressing the side of the knife to your clit, lightly rubbing your clit.
“I’ve been waiting long enough please please fuck me. Need to feel your fat cock in my cunt!” Choso’s cheeks burn with how you’re looking at him. He wants to remember the look of adoration, lust and pleasure on your beautiful face forever.
Lifting the knife off your clit, kissing her. “I didn’t prep ya enough yet sweetheart.” Dragging the knife along your thigh, adding more pressure than before testing what limits you have.
Stroking your clit with his thumb. “Nnnn oh fuck.” Pumping his fingers faster. - the pain- pleasure-I didn’t think!” You trail off moaning louder, biting your bottom lip, closing your eyes.
Holding the knifes to your neck, “Look at me or I’m stopping, look at whose making your tight little cunt feel so good.” Smiling when you look at him. “That’s it beautiful, lemme see the sweet look into your eyes when you cum. Whose slut are you?”
Rubbing your soft clit faster. “Your’s! All yours my tits, mouth, ass and cunt are all yours.” Dragging the knife down your neck, between your collarbones and swirling around your nipple.
“What are you? Need to hear you say it beautiful.” Messaging your sweet spot at a steady pace. You’re quivering, your cunt squelching, making his cock ache with how hard he is. His pulse quickens, making his head throb.
Swiping your nipple with the knife. “I’m your sexy good lil’ slutttt!!! Nnnn!” You’re squirting on his fingers, fingering your soft, squelching tight cunt. Playing with your puffy clit.
Jerking your hips away, he drags the knife down above your belly. Forcing you to have to keep still, your thick cum trickling from your spasming cunt. “There are so many nasty things I wanna do to you. I’m gonna ruin you, make your cunt crave my cock.” Gliding his fingers out.
Sucking your thick cum off his fingers, groaning from the flavor. Dragging the knife to your sloppy, sensitive cunt, sliding the knife around your sweet cunt. Groaning when your soft cunt clenches around nothing. “Beg for my cock.”
Oreo creampie’s m.list

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no updates until next weekend~ this upcoming week will be very busy cause we have events and stuff and there has been unnecessary drama in my workplace unfortunately i got sucked into it ;-; so i'm spending my rest days mentally preparing myself and just overall resting cause last week was aaaaaahhhhhh
BUT ANYWAY!
next week i'll update, promise!
so what if I sucked his dick. his knuckles were split and bloody from defending my safety and my honour what else was I supposed to do
★ characters: levi ackerman x reader | modern au
★ plot summary: levi helps you get through an episode
★ content warnings : implied su!cidal ideations, talks about mental illness (panic attacks, anxiety, and depression).
★ a/n: just a lil something i wrote out of sheer indulgence cause i am going through it ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა . so i guess you could say this is true to life and the only difference is, i don't have a levi by myself doing all these for me LOL. BUT YEAH, i hope you like this one and i hope it could help other people who might be going through the same thing.
sending everybody hugs!
-
Title: Until When Do I Need to Run?
"What if I'm too tired by the time I reach the 'pinnacle' of my life?"
Your voice sounded soft and vulnerable as you let those words slip through your lips.
Normally, you wouldn't let these kinds of thoughts escape the confines of your mind, but today, your heart was desperately screaming for any semblance of salvation.
Anything that could shed light on your ever-gloomy world.
From the dining table where your boyfriend sat, enjoying his freshly brewed jasmine tea after dinner, Levi raised an eyebrow in your direction. "What?"
You were at the sink, washing the dishes, as it was your turn this week. You chuckled humorlessly as you rinsed a plate rather mindlessly. "It's nothing. I was just thinking out loud."
"And thinking ridiculous things too," Levi said, his voice louder than usual. It didn't occur to you that he had moved until you were spun around, facing him. He was already behind you while you were racking your brains for a response.
"What's wrong with you? Did something happen?" His frown was deep, his gray eyes piercing. Despite being shorter, his presence loomed over you.
Reaching for the kitchen towel to dry your hands, you stayed mute for a few minutes in an attempt to gather your thoughts.
"Work has just been... rough lately, and the stress is getting to me. But today was especially hard," you started. You were speaking slowly, trying to articulate your words as best as you could.
It was something your therapist had taught you years ago. Because of the things you went through growing up and the trauma you'd accumulated, you'd unfortunately lost your ability to speak coherently at times, almost to the point of being considered a person with a disability.
Having such a handicap was frustrating and humiliating, to say the least. It angered you when you couldn't get the right words out or when your mind went blank mid-sentence, rendering you temporarily mute.
Thankfully, you had Levi. He'd been your boyfriend for eight years, and since you got together, life wasn't as draining as it once was. You couldn't be more grateful to him. The two of you had met while you were on a coffee run at work. He was behind you in line, and when your card was unfortunately declined and you didn't have cash on you, you almost had an anxiety attack.
In his own way of displaying kindness, Levi scoffed from behind you and handed the cashier his card to pay for both your orders.
"If you don't want to go through something like that again, make sure you have cash on you, dumbass."
And the rest was history.
You went quiet again, and while Levi waited patiently, he took your hand, gave it a loving squeeze, and led you to the living room so that you could sit and talk comfortably.
Once you were settled, you took a deep breath, which sounded shaky as it escaped your lips. Your emotions were clearly piling up inside, and it was just a matter of when they would burst.
"Steady your breathing first, Y/N," Levi said as he rubbed your back gently, doing his best to comfort you while you grounded yourself. "Take your time."
Smiling sheepishly at him, you did as told, and then finally, you continued to confide in him.
"Nothing major happened, but work has been really hectic recently due to the amount of things we need to do, and it doesn't help that my team is severely understaffed. So, I guess the fatigue and stress have been piling up, and it's getting to me."
Levi noticed the tension in your shoulders and the way your hands were trembling slightly. He reached out and gently massaged your temples, his touch soothing.
"Any word on that incompetent manager of yours? They're looking for a replacement, right?" Levi asked, his voice tinged with annoyance. He knew the lore of what was happening at your workplace, and to say that he was pissed was an understatement.
Not only were you neglected by your immediate supervisor, but you also had to catch up and do his workload while still getting paid less than him. The whole thing was a mess, and to be completely honest, Levi was on edge, worried for your well-being. It sucked that his worst fears were manifesting.
"They're doing the best they can, so I'm just waiting patiently on that."
Levi let out a 'tsk' and rolled his eyes, clearly more annoyed for you. The gesture caused you to giggle a little.
"And to sum it all up, the whole thing kind of shoved me into another episode, and I started to overthink things again." You said with a pout, then continued, "I started to think of negative things again, like the fact I literally have to work like a horse just so I can survive for another two weeks. From that, I started to get dizzy because it dawned on me that it would literally take me years to succeed. And then I thought, what if by the time I reach the most successful point of my life, I'm too tired to celebrate or to even continue living because that's what I've been striving to achieve for so long, and that's where I've been pouring all my energy—"
"Okay, stop. Stop right there," Levi interrupted, his voice firm. He let out a frustrated sigh and pulled you closer, taking your hands in his. "You're spiraling, Y/N. You're making a mountain out of a molehill. We're going to tackle this together, one step at a time. Right now, you need to breathe and relax."
His gray eyes held a stern yet caring expression. "Focus on the now, Y/N. We deal with problems as they come. I'm here. I'll be your anchor, but you have to let go of the rope a little."
You looked into his eyes, feeling the weight of his words. Levi had always been your rock—the one who grounded you when your mind spiraled. You knew he was right, and his presence always brought you back to reality.
As you sat there, hand in hand, you felt a sense of calm wash over you.
"Thank you, Levi," you whispered, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder.
Levi noticed the shift in your demeanor. He squeezed your hand reassuringly, his other hand coming up to stroke your hair gently.
"You know, Y/N," he started softly, his voice a stark contrast to his earlier firmness. "You're incredibly strong. You've faced challenges I couldn't imagine, and you’ve come out stronger for it. But even the strongest people need to recharge."
He paused, giving you a moment to absorb his words. "It's okay to not be okay sometimes. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. What matters is how you deal with it. And right now, you're dealing with it by talking to me instead of keeping all that to yourself, and you've also been really consistent with it, which is a huge step. Good job."
Levi squeezed your hand gently again. "We'll figure this out together. Maybe we can start by setting some boundaries at work. Or maybe we can find some ways to de-stress outside of work. We can try new hobbies, or just spend more quality time together."
You felt a lump form in your throat as you listened to Levi's words. Just him being there for you brought so much warmth; it's as if he's hugging you from within.
At that moment, you realized how lucky you were to have him in your life.
You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and vulnerability. His words, spoken with such gentle sincerity, had a profound effect on you. It felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You realized how much you had been bottling up and how much you had been neglecting your own well-being.
"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Thank you for always being here for me. I don't know what I would do without you."
Levi smiled softly, reaching up to brush away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You don't have to figure it out alone, Y/N. And never, ever hesitate to reach out to me. I am the last person that would push you away."
A comfortable silence settled between you as you both took a moment to appreciate the connection. The soft glow of the living room lamp casts a warm ambiance, creating an intimate atmosphere.
"I know I've been a bit of a downer lately," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "I hate that I let this get to me. I hate that I'm becoming this person who's always stressed and overwhelmed."
Levi squeezed your hand tighter.
"You're not this person, Y/N. You're going through a tough time, and that's okay."
You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. It was comforting to know that you had someone who understood and supported you unconditionally.
The conversation continued, flowing naturally as you shared your fears and worries with Levi. He listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and practical advice. You felt a sense of peace as you opened up to him, something you hadn't done in a long time.
Hours seemed to fly by as you talked. The initial darkness outside had given way to the soft hues of dawn. Levi's grip on your hand never loosened, his presence a constant source of comfort.
Eventually, the weight of exhaustion began to creep in. You yawned, your eyes heavy with sleep. Levi noticed and smiled gently.
"It's late, Y/N," he said softly. "Let's head to bed."
You nodded, your head leaning against his shoulder. "Mkay. Thank you, Levi."
Levi kissed the top of your head. "You're welcome. We'll talk more about this tomorrow if you want, alright?"
You nodded, a sheepish smile on your face. "Okay."
He stood up and stretched, a yawn escaping his lips. "I'll get us some water."
You watched as Levi moved toward the kitchen, feeling exponentially better, all thanks to him. When he returned with two glasses of water, he handed you one and sat back down beside you.
"Drink up," he said, his voice soft but firm.
You took a sip, feeling the cool liquid soothe your throat. After finishing the water, you placed the glass on the coffee table and turned to Levi.
"Thank you, Levi, for everything," you said, your voice full of sincerity.
He gave you a small smile, his eyes reflecting his affection for you. "Always, Y/N."
Setting his glass aside, Levi suddenly cupped your face with his hands, his touch gentle yet commanding. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was more passionate and eager than usual. His kiss conveyed all the love, support, and reassurance he wanted to give you, grounding you in the moment.
You responded in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck as you melted into the kiss. The intensity of the moment made your worries fade away, replaced by the warmth and love radiating from Levi. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, his hands moving to your waist, holding you securely.
When you finally pulled away for air, you rested your forehead against his, your breaths mingling. Levi's eyes were soft but intense, filled with a promise of unwavering support.
"You're not alone, Y/N," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you, and I'll always be here for you."
Tears of gratitude filled your eyes as you looked at him. "I love you too, Levi."
With that, he took your hand and led you to the bedroom. You both settled into bed, the weight of the day's worries feeling lighter. As you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, you felt a sense of peace and security that only Levi could provide.
"Goodnight, Y/N," Levi murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
"Goodnight, Levi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
The room fell into a serene silence, only your steady breathing filling the space. Levi’s arms around you felt like a shield against the world’s troubles, and the steady beat of his heart was a comforting rhythm that lulled you into relaxation.
As sleep began to pull you under, you felt a tender kiss pressed to your forehead while Levi’s fingers lightly traced soothing patterns on your back—his way of reminding you that he was always there, ready to lift the burdens you carried.
kind of want to do a part two of this hmm
Rules and Roses Chapter 6
★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza
★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.
★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic).
★ content warnings : implied violence, self-harm and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.
★ Previous Chapter
a/n: heya! things are finally picking up and it will only go up from here and then BAM! i wasn't able to update last weekend because i wasn't doing great mentally and i was also pretty tired because of work, and so i just focused on resting last weekend. but voila! a new chapter for y'all! i've not proofread this yet, so apologies if there are any typos or parts that confuses you. will fix those tomorrow morning.
i sincerely hope you've been enjoying this fic and i really would like to hear your thoughts so don't be shy and leave a comment or two! you have no idea how much your comments inspire me to write.
anyway! enjoy reading!
--
Year 2016
A vast, icy expanse stretches before the camera. The crowd's excited murmurs gradually build into a roaring applause as a spotlight illuminates the center of the ice.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the edge of our seats as we welcome back the phenomenal Y/N! The reigning champion, the undisputed queen of the ice, is about to grace us with her artistry once more,” the commentator exclaimed to the mic.
You glide onto the ice; your every movement, fluid and effortless, as if you're dancing on air. Your breath, visible in the cold, adds a touch of ethereal beauty to your performance.
“There she is! The moment we've all been waiting for! The crowd is on their feet, their eyes glued to every twist and turn. Her posture is impeccable, and her lines are clean and sharp. This is what true elegance looks like!”
The commentator continued, his voice filled with excitement and passion.
As you progress through your routine, the music swells, mirroring the intensity of your performance. You execute a series of complex jumps with astonishing ease, landing each one with precision and grace.
“And there it is! A triple axel, executed to perfection! The crowd is in awe. This woman is on a different level. Her speed, her power, her control—it's simply breathtaking. Watch as she transitions into a spin; look at that speed and the way she controls her body. It's like she's defying gravity itself!"
You transition into a series of spins, giving your body a blur of color and movement. The commentator’s voice becomes more animated.
“Unbelievable! She's a ballerina on ice! The way she blends strength and delicacy is simply mesmerizing. And did you catch that change of direction? From a Biellmann spin to a layback spin in mere seconds? It's like she's speaking a different language on the ice. A language only the greatest can understand.”
As you approach the end of your routine, the music crescendos, and you unleash a final burst of energy. Your emotions are raw, and your movements are filled with passion.
“She's pouring her heart and soul into this performance! The crowd is on its feet, cheering and applauding. This is a moment that will be remembered for years to come. And can we talk about the flexibility? Those splits, those extensions! She's not just an ice skater; she's a gymnast on ice! A complete show stopper!”
The commentator exclaimed, his voice filled with awe.
A tear escapes your eye as you finish your routine, and you drop to the ice in a deep bow.
The crowd erupts in a standing ovation.
“A performance that transcends the boundaries of sport. Ice Queen Y/N has once again proven why she is the greatest ice skater of her generation. And speaking of greatness, this woman has it all. Talent, beauty, grace, and, let's not forget, a heart of gold. They say behind every successful woman is a great man, and this woman's boyfriend is definitely one to watch. Though we can't confirm anything, rumors have it that he's a rising star in the business world,” the commentator said, adding a touch of intrigue to his commentary.
You skate slowly towards the edge of the ice, your breath coming in short gasps. The crowd’s cheers and applause gradually subside as you approach your coach.
“And there she goes, skating towards her coach. A moment of pure relief and exhaustion. The pressure is off, and she can finally let go. This is a moment of truth, a moment of waiting. The scores will determine her fate. Let’s hope she’s brought her A-game today, but this is Y/N we're talking about; she's always on her A-game!”
The camera cuts to the judges’ table as they begin their deliberation. The crowd holds their breath, their eyes glued to the screen.
After what feels like an eternity, the announcer steps up to the microphone.
“And the gold medal goes to... Y/N with a final score of 250.34 , a whopping 12.78 points ahead of her closest competitor! This not only secures her gold medal but also breaks her own world record, a record she has held for years! This is a historic moment, ladies and gentlemen!”
The announcer proclaimed, as the crowd erupts into a frenzy of cheers and applause.
The camera returns to you as you cover your face with your hands, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks. Your coach gave you a fatherly hug, obviously proud of the feat you have achieved. Your family and friends were screaming at the top of their lungs, trying their best to convey their support for you. Meanwhile, the crowd continues to cheer as confetti falls from the ceiling.
You raise your arms in victory, a radiant smile on your face.
The physical therapy room was a familiar purgatory. The sterile white walls and the metallic gleam of the equipment were a constant reminder of your limitations. Once a sanctuary of grace and athleticism, it had become a battleground for recovery.
You moved through the routine with mechanical precision, your movements devoid of the once-fluid grace. Your breath came in short, labored gasps as you pushed your body to its limits. The pain was a constant companion, a dull ache that pulsed through your leg. Yet you persevered, driven by a stubborn determination.
Akaza watched from the corner, his eyes following your every move. His expression was a mask of indifference, but his posture spoke a different story. Tension rippled through his muscles as he observed your struggle.
Finally, exhausted but determined, you collapsed onto the mat, sweat beading on your forehead. Your body ached, but there was a sense of satisfaction in pushing through the pain.
The doctor entered, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. He carried a clipboard, and his expression was serious.
"How are you feeling today, Y/N?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You managed a weak smile. "Tired, but okay."
The doctor nodded, his eyes scanning your form. "The progress is steady. Your strength is improving, and the range of motion in your leg is expanding."
A flicker of hope ignited in your chest. "Does that mean I can start... doing more?"
The doctor hesitated, his expression turning somber.
"There is good news and bad news."
Your heart sank. "Tell me the bad news first."
"The bad news is, the full range of motion you once had is unlikely to return. The scar tissue and the nature of your injury have created limitations. While you can walk and perform daily activities without significant discomfort, activities that require sudden bursts of speed, agility, or excessive weight-bearing are still risky."
A wave of disappointment washed over you. You had never entertained the thought of returning to competitive skating. That chapter of your life was firmly closed. But the idea of never being able to skate again, even for leisure, was definitely a bitter pill to swallow.
"I understand," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.
"But," the doctor continued, his voice softening, "the good news is that you've exceeded expectations in your recovery. You're stronger than most people in your situation. With continued therapy and careful management, you can lead a normal, active life."
A normal life.
The word echoed in your mind.
A far cry from the extraordinary life you once lived.
"But remember, and I mean this in all seriousness, there are certain activities you should avoid," the doctor warned. "High-impact sports, for instance, are out of the question, and you need to be cautious about putting too much pressure on your leg."
You nodded, trying to absorb the information. The weight of disappointment was heavy on your shoulders.
"But I also want you to remember," the doctor added, "every day is a step forward, and you've come such a long way, Y/N. So you should be proud of your progress."
You forced a smile. "I am."
As the doctor left the room, you turned to Akaza. His eyes met yours, and in that brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his gaze—a mixture of pity and something else, something you can quite pinpoint. You decided to dismiss it, attributing it to your overactive imagination.
Akaza approached you, his hand reaching out to offer support. "You're stronger than you think," he said, his voice low and comforting.
You took his hand, grateful for his presence. "I know," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.
Akaza studied your face; his eyes were filled with a strange intensity. "I've seen stronger people break," he said, his voice barely audible. "But you... you're different."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his rather cryptic statement. "Oh?"
Akaza hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. "Some people," he began, his voice low, "are defined by limitations. Others... they find a way to transcend them."
You didn't know what to make of his cryptic statement.
You simply nodded, grateful for his support.
Akaza chuckled, breaking the tension. “You’re too serious,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. You look like you could use a break.”
You smiled, and the weight of the world momentarily lifted.
“Alright, let’s go.”
As he helped you up, he studied your face, his expression turning serious again. “You’re doing well,” he said softly. “Like what the doctor told you, you’re way stronger than you think.”
You nodded, grateful for his support. As you walked out of the physical therapy room, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. The road to recovery was indeed long, but you persevered and made incredible progress.
And as long as you have your friends and family, Muzan, and, believe it or not, people like Akaza by your side, you knew you would eventually find your way back.
Several Years Ago at the Winter Olympics 2018
The ice was your stage, a crystalline expanse where you could lose yourself. Muzan, your fiancé, watched from the stands, his eyes filled with adoration. The crowd roared as you took your final bow, the applause a symphony of admiration. You were in your element, a whirlwind of grace and power.
But then disaster struck.
It happened in an instant—a cruel twist of fate.
As you landed a triple lutz, your skate blade, despite multiple quality checks, betrayed you. It snapped, sending you into an uncontrolled spin. Your body, once so graceful, became a helpless projectile. You felt the ice scrape against your skin as you tumbled, the world a blur of pain and fear.
Muzan watched in horror as you fell. Time seemed to freeze as your body crashed into the ice. A sharp intake of breath escaped his lips. His world narrowed down to you, a blur of white on the unforgiving ice.
Fear, cold and sharp, clawed at his insides.
He leaped over the barrier, his movements a blur. Kneeling beside you, he assessed the damage. Your face was pale, and your eyes closed. A deep gash marred your leg, with blood seeping through the fabric of your costume. His hands trembled as he cradled your head. His voice, usually so calm and commanding, was now a frantic whisper.
"Darling, please wake up," he begged, his voice filled with terror.
"Open your eyes, please, Y/N!"
Panic surged through him as he realized the severity of your injury. The once pristine white of his suit was now marred by the crimson stain of your blood, a stark contrast to the pristine white of the ice.
His voice rose, filled with a desperate urgency.
"Someone help! Get an ambulance! Fucking do something, now!" he shouted, his eyes wide with fear and seething anger.
He frantically searched for a button or a lever—anything to call for help. The crowd's noise seemed to muffle, as if he were underwater.
He scooped you up into his arms, your weight heavy in his arms. The crowd's gasps and cries were a distant echo as he carried you off the ice. His mind raced, a whirlwind of fear and desperation. He had to get you help, and he had to get you help now.
In the ambulance, Muzan held you close, his touch a desperate attempt to reassure you and to reassure himself that this too shall pass, but the metallic smell of your blood, your pale skin, and the way your body trembled in his arms filled him with a cold dread, as did the horrific way you would slip in and out of consciousness.
*
The days that followed were a blur of pain, surgeries, and endless nights in the hospital. You woke up to find yourself encased in a plaster cast, the once lithe body you knew confined to a hospital bed. The news of your injury sent shockwaves through the world, leaving your fans devastated by the abrupt end to your glittering career.
The doctors were blunt in their assessment. Your career as an ice skater was over. The extent of your injuries, combined with the long recovery process, meant that you would never be able to return to the ice. The news was a devastating blow, and it took a long time to come to terms with it.
Muzan was by your side through it all; his unrelenting and passionate support was a constant in your life. He held your hand through the painful procedures, his presence a comforting anchor.
But the emotional turmoil was immense. The loss of your identity as a skater was a profound shock. The physical pain was a constant reminder of what you had lost, but the emotional pain was even more debilitating. You questioned your worth and your identity.
There were even moments when the darkness consumed you, when the thought of ending it all seemed like the only escape.
But despite everything, you managed to hold on and cling to the hope that things would get better.
And frankly speaking, Muzan didn't let you succumb to despair. He did his very best to show his support for you and his faith in you, and with the help of dedicated therapists, you slowly began to rebuild your life.
It was a long and arduous journey, filled with SO many setbacks and triumphs, but you were able to emerge from the shadows stronger and more resilient than ever before.
*
The car ride home was heavy with silence. You stared out the window, lost in thought. The physical therapy session had been grueling, but it was also a stark reminder of what you had lost. A sudden impulse surged through you.
"Akaza, make a detour," you ordered, your voice firm.
Akaza was startled by your sudden demand. “Where to?” he asked, his voice laced with caution.
“The ice rink,” you replied, your tone leaving no room for argument.
Akaza hesitated, his mind racing. He knew better than anyone the risks involved. The doctor's warnings echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn't ignore the determination in your eyes.
"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice filled with concern. "The doctor said..."
You cut him off.
"I know, Akaza. And I don't care, so please."
He sighed. He knew arguing with you was futile. With a heavy heart, he turned the steering wheel.
The ice rink was eerily quiet.
The once-vibrant atmosphere was replaced by an eerie stillness. You slipped into your skates, a familiar weight returning to your feet. As you stepped onto the ice, a wave of nostalgia washed over you.
It was here that you had spent countless hours honing your craft, dreaming of standing on the Olympic podium.
Akaza watched from the sidelines, his heart pounding in his chest. He was a mixture of worry and admiration. You were a force of nature, but he couldn’t shake the fear that lurked in the back of his mind.
You began to glide, your movements tentative at first. But as you gained confidence, your body seemed to remember the familiar motions. You started to hum the melody of your short program, your movements following the rhythm. It was as if you were reliving a distant memory—a ghost of your former self.
Akaza watched in awe as you executed a series of spins and jumps with surprising ease. It was as if the years of physical therapy had erased the trauma of the accident. But as you attempted a particularly challenging move, your body betrayed you. Fear crept in, and your balance faltered.
You landed with a painful thud, your knees buckling.
Tears streamed down your face as the pain shot through your leg. The physical agony was a stark reminder of your limitations, but it was the emotional pain that truly consumed you. The floodgates of memories opened, overwhelming you. The taste of victory, the roar of the crowd, the thrill of competition—all of it came rushing back, only to be replaced by the bitter reality of your present situation.
You curled up into a ball, your body trembling.
Struggling to tune out the pounding of his heart, Akaza hesitated to rush to your side, and when he was about to, Muzan's voice echoed across the empty ice rink, firm yet still laced with concern.
"What do you think you're doing?"
You looked up; pain and confusion were painted on your face. Muzan knelt beside you, his eyes filled with worry.
"I thought I could do it," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Muzan’s expression hardened. "You could've seriously gotten hurt! And you!" Your husband shot Akaza a glare, his temper flaring uncontrollably.
"What were you thinking, letting this happen? Your job is to keep her safe, and you failed miserably! Do you have any idea how irresponsible this was?!"
Akaza bowed in apology, his face pale. "I'm sorry, sir. I did everything I could—"
Before Akaza could finish, Muzan took a step forward, his fist clenched. "Everything you could? Everything you could?! You're supposed to be her bodyguard, not some useless bystander! Do you even care about her safety? Or are you just pretending to do your job?!"
Akaza flinched, taking a step back. "Sir, please, I—"
Muzan raised his hand as if to strike, his face contorted with rage. "Don't you 'sir' me! If anything happens to her, it's on you! Do you understand that? It's on your head, you worthless—"
"Muzan, stop!" you interjected, your voice firm despite the pain.
"Don't blame Akaza. He did the best he could. I was the one who was stubborn."
Muzan paused, his raised hand trembling, before he slowly lowered it, his eyes still burning with anger. He turned back to you, his frustration now mixed with deep concern.
"All those months of therapy, Y/N. All the pain you’ve endured, thrown out the window just like that? What were you thinking?"
You lowered your gaze, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. Muzan’s words cut deep, but you knew he was right.
Upon seeing you shrink when he raised his voice at you, Muzan’s expression softened immediately.
He sighed heavily.
"You do understand where I am coming from right?" he said as gently as he could. "I completely empathize with you, Y/N; and just like you, I also miss you performing on ice, but you can’t ignore the doctor’s orders. You know how fragile your recovery is. What if you got seriously hurt again?"
You looked away, your heart aching.
"I just miss it," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I thought I should give it a try, then maybe... I could get a feel of it again. Maybe a miracle would happen." You trailed off, unsure of where the thought was leading you.
Muzan’s eyes softened as he watched your tears fall. He reached out, gently lifting your chin so your eyes met his. "Love, I understand the longing; I really do. But we can't rush these things. Your body still needs time to heal."
And then Muzan’s grip tightened around your hand. His voice, stained with pain and frustration.
"Do you have any idea how terrified I was when I saw you lying there on the ice? How many sleepless nights I've endured, haunted by the image of your lifeless body? You risked everything just now—your life, your future, and for what? For a fleeting moment of glory? For old times sake? For a stupid, careless stunt? Do you understand the gravity of your actions?"
Your heart pounded in your chest.
Guilt eating at you by the second.
Muzan rarely raised his voice at you, but when he did, it sent shivers down your spine. At this very moment, you knew he was angry, but you also knew he was speaking from a place of deep love and concern.
"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Muzan’s expression shifted from frustration to sorrow, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "You don't need to apologize, love. I'm just... I can't bear the thought of losing you."
Suddenly, the memory of that dreadful day started playing in his head like a slideshow—the sight of you lying motionless on the ice, the panic in the ambulance, the sleepless nights by your hospital bed. He groaned, his grip on your hand tightening involuntarily as the trauma washed over him again. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the haunting images.
"Seeing you in pain, feeling helpless... it tore me apart," he said, his voice cracking with emotion. "I remember every second of that day, and it still feels like a nightmare I can't wake up from."
Drowning in shame and guilt, all you could ever say at that moment was, "I'm sorry."
He opened his eyes and looked at you, his expression softening as he saw the concern in your eyes. "I know, love. But please, let's not do this again." He paused, his gaze unrelenting.
"I know how much skating means to you, and I promise we'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life. But for now, let's focus on healing."
Akaza nodded in agreement. You looked at them both, feeling a mix of disappointment and understanding. "But the doctor said..."
Muzan interrupted gently, "I know what the doctor said, my love. And I respect his opinion. But I won't let that be the final word. We'll explore every option, every specialist, every clinic. We won't stop until we find a way for you to skate again."
Hope flickered in your eyes. "You mean it?"
Muzan nodded resolutely.
"I mean it with all my heart, love. You've dedicated so many years to this already, and I know how much it means to you. But for now, let's focus on healing your body and your spirit. We'll find a way to bring back the joy of skating into your life, I promise. But let's not rush it, okay? Your well-being is my top priority. It should be your priority too."
Eventually, you yielded, but before you could get a word out in response to what your husband just said, tears came falling down your face profusely, and the sight pained both Muzan and Akaza so much.
It was so hard seeing you like this.
Muzan gently pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and protective. He whispered soothing words into your ear, his voice a calming balm to your frayed nerves. "Shhh, it's okay, my love. Let it all out. I'm here for you."
Akaza, who was standing nearby, looked away, giving you and Muzan a moment of privacy. He clenched his fists, his own emotions—a tumultuous mix of anger at the situation and a deep, abiding concern for you.
Muzan brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch tender.
"You've been so strong, Y/N. It's okay to feel what you're feeling. It's okay to grieve and to be angry. Feel free to use me as a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen to, or even your personal punching bag when you need to let off steam. I'm here for you, always."
You clung to him, the weight of your emotions finally finding an outlet. The tears seemed endless—a torrent of grief and frustration. Your husband held you tighter, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"We will get through this," he murmured. "One step at a time."
After what felt like an eternity, the tears began to subside, leaving you feeling drained but slightly lighter. Muzan pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. "Feeling better?"
You nodded, unable to find the words to express your gratitude and love for him. Muzan kissed your forehead gently, his lips lingering as if to impart some of his strength to you.
Muzan then took a deep breath and turned to Akaza, his anger still simmering but under control. "Akaza," he began, his voice tight, "I apologize for lashing out at you earlier. My temper got the best of me, and that was uncalled for."
Akaza bowed slightly, his expression unreadable. "No, sir. It's alright. I deserved to be called out like that."
Muzan clenched his jaw, feeling the lingering frustration. He took a moment to calm himself further before continuing. "However, let me be clear. If something like this happens again, there will be consequences. Your primary duty is to ensure her safety. Don't you ever forget that."
Akaza nodded solemnly. "I understand, sir. It won't happen again."
Muzan's gaze softened slightly as he regarded Akaza. "Thank you," then he turned to you again and helped you to your feet.
"Let's get you home," he said, wrapping an arm around your waist.
*
In the car, the quiet hum of the engine filled the space between you and Muzan. After a few moments of contemplation, you turned to him and broke the silence.
“How did you know I was at the ice rink?”
Akaza cleared his throat, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “I called him,” he confessed, his eyes avoiding yours.
You turned your gaze to Akaza, surprised by his uncharacteristic admission. "You did?"
He nodded, his expression serious. "Yes, madam. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Apologies for taking action without consulting you first."
Understanding the weight of his actions and the potential danger Muzan might have faced because of you, guilt washed over you. You turned back to Muzan, remorse clear in your eyes. “Muzan, I’m so sorry. You must have been very busy today, and I even put you in potential danger by rushing to my aid without Kokushibo with you.”
Muzan shook his head, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand. “Nothing and no one is more important or more special to me in this world than you, Y/N. I would leave everything behind to ensure you’re safe and well, so don’t ever feel guilty for needing me. Besides, I can’t call myself the president of a nation if I can't protect or be there for the people who are closest to me.”
You felt tears welling up again, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Muzan…”
Muzan gently wiped away your tears with his thumb, then pulled you into a warm embrace, his touch tender and reassuring.
The car settled into a comfortable silence once again, and after a few seconds, you glanced at Akaza, who was focused intently on the road.
“Hakuji, thanks again for today.”
“Hakuji?” Muzan asked, confusion lacing his voice. “Who’s Hakuji?”
In the driver’s seat, Akaza froze, his heart skipping a beat. The sudden use of his real name caught him off guard, and he quickly regained his composure, masking his panic with a carefully controlled expression.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter, a hint of unease creeping into his voice.
How did you...?
Wait.
Have you perhaps, by any chance, finally–
“That’s me, sir. Hakuji is my real name; Akaza is just a nickname a relative gave me when I was a kid.”
“I see,” Muzan said, his tone shifting to a more measured curiosity. “You refer to yourself as Akaza to everyone? I don’t recall this being disclosed during your application.”
Akaza flashed a sheepish smile, though it did little to hide the tension in his eyes. “Yes, sir. I’ve used Akaza for most of my life, but I’m fine with Hakuji as well.”
Muzan studied Akaza with a penetrating gaze, sensing the subtle shift in the atmosphere.
“Very well,” he said finally, his voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism.
The drive continued in relative silence, the weight of the recent events settling around the car like a tangible fog. You leaned against Muzan, comforted by his presence, while Akaza focused on the road, his mind racing with the implications of his slip.
When the car finally arrived at your home, Muzan helped you out with a gentle hand, his concern still evident in his eyes. While you were still traveling back, you asked your husband how he got to the ice rink, and apparently he drove there by himself, and because he accompanied you in your car with Akaza, his car was left at the ice rink parking lot. Muzan assured you that he would have Gyokko retrieve it first thing in the morning.
As you walked towards the entrance, you glanced back at Akaza, who had a thoughtful expression on his face.
"You can rest now, Hakuji. Thank you, and I'm sorry too."
Akaza shook his head and smiled gently before bowing. "Don't worry about me, madam. Please rest well."
Muzan took the liberty to officially dismiss Akaza for the night and placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his gaze softening. “Let’s get you settled. We’ve had a long day.”
*
Akaza slammed his bedroom door shut, his mind racing. He had been waiting for this moment—a sign, a confirmation. He leaned against the door, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins was intoxicating.
This was it.
The opportunity he had been waiting for.
A chance to rewrite his destiny and prove his worth.
But he had to be careful and meticulous. One wrong move could jeopardize everything. He took a deep breath, calming his racing heart.
It was time to put his plan into action.
He pulled out a drawer and retrieved a small, leather-bound notebook. It was a relic from his past, a journal filled with cryptic codes and half-formed plans. He opened it to a blank page and began to write. The pen moved swiftly across the paper, his thoughts flowing onto the page.
A plan was forming—a dangerous and intricate one, but it was a plan nonetheless.
-
taglist: @bffrrufr @unadulteratedhandsbanditdreamer @unlikelybananawerewolf
Rules and Roses Chapter 5
★ characters: kibutsuji muzan x reader x akaza
★ plot summary: Kibutsuji Muzan has finally decided to expand his empire, and the way he intends to do so is by running for the highest political position. With you, his darling wife, at his side, he believes he can achieve and have everything the world has to offer. He is, after all, the Phoenix of Phario.
★ fic playlist: sometimes, same day, as time stops, wolf’s song (this is also the vision board for the fic).
★ content warnings : implied violence, self-harm and abuse, profanities, toxic relationships, smut.
★ Previous Chapter
a/n:
i MIGHT have indulged this chapter ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
and i most definitely had a change of heart as to where this story will go ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა
as always, comments are always welcomes and super appreciated!
-
"Good day, Azudellin! Thank you so much for the warm hospitality you bestowed upon us. It's truly an honor to stand before you today in this beautiful province, surrounded by such a passionate and vibrant community."
Muzan said proudly as he stood at the stage with the rest of his political party sitting just behind him, who were also gazing at the huge crowd that gathered today in the city proper to attend the party's town hall. He stood there with a dashing smile on his face, patiently waiting for the applause and cheers to subside before speaking again.
Meanwhile, you were sitting in the front row, mirroring your husband's smile as you listened intently to his speech. For a brief moment, he turned to you, and a giggle slipped through your lips as you witnessed his smile getting bigger.
"Good luck," you mouthed to him, to which he subtly and cleverly responded with a wink before turning to the vast crowd once again.
"I’ve traveled far and wide across our great nation, but each time I come here, I am reminded of what makes our country truly special. It’s the people—the heart and soul of our nation. And tonight, I want to speak to you not just as a presidential candidate, but as someone who deeply believes in the potential of every single person here."
Since you were at a fairly far place from home and currently a part of a really huge crowd, Muzan took it upon himself to double up the security in the vicinity, not just for your safety but for everybody's as well. Not that he has enemies (he's aware of) that are out to get him; it's just that elections in general are a time where anything can happen, and so it's still better to be safe than sorry.
Akaza and Kokushibo are standing on each side of the stage upfront so that they have a fish-eye view of the whole venue, and god forbid something happens. Your two most trusted allies are just a few feet away from the both of you.
"I’ve heard your voices, your concerns, and your dreams. From the stories shared with me in the fields, to the struggles faced by our small businesses, to the aspirations of our young people yearning for a brighter future—your voices have been a guiding light for my campaign.
Azudellin is a province rich in history and potential. But like many places, you’ve faced challenges—economic downturns, educational disparities, and the need for better infrastructure. I know that these challenges are not just statistics; they are real issues that affect your daily lives. And I am here to tell you that change is not just a possibility—it is a certainty if we work together."
As your husband got into his speech, his passion for his cause was evident in his face, and the crowd started to clap for him. Some of them even stood out and cheered loudly for him. Chills went down your spine as the cheers got louder and louder.
Then, Muzan raised his hand to calm the applause and cheers, despite feeling elated at their passionate support for him. His smile never left his face as he continued his speech, his voice laced with passion and strong will.
"Thank you. We must remember that real change begins at the grassroots level. It begins with our children having access to quality education, with our farmers getting the support they need, and with every worker having a fair opportunity to succeed.
When I think about Azudellin, I think about resilience. I think about the community spirit that binds you all together. It’s in the way you come together to support each other during tough times and how you celebrate each other’s successes. That spirit is what will drive our nation forward."
The crowd broke out into another round of cheers and applause, and this time, you were cheering with them. You stood up proudly and gave your husband a warm round of applause. Your eyes were slightly misty because you were also incredibly moved by Muzan's speech. So much pride surged within your veins as you continued to watch him in awe. You were so damn proud of the man he's become all through the years.
Images from the past flashed through your mind when you and Muzan were still in college. You could still remember how his eyes would twinkle each time he would share his dream to you and how much his voice carried so much hope.
From the stage, Muzan saw you wiping your tears. You were so immersed in your little trip down memory lane that you couldn't help but get emotional. His eyes and overall expression softened, while his heart swelled with so much joy that he himself was this close to getting emotional himself. And the cheering crowd wasn't helping; they kept getting louder and louder as the seconds went by.
Once again, he raised his hand to calm everyone down, taking a deep breath to ground himself before facing the crowd again.
"I see the hope in your eyes, and I feel the determination in your hearts. This election is not about one person; it’s about all of us. It’s about what we can achieve together. Every vote you cast, every voice you raise, every action you take—it all contributes to shaping the future of our province and our nation.
I promise you this: I will not be a president who stands apart from you. I will stand with you, listen to you, and fight for you. Together, we will build a future where no one is left behind, where opportunity is abundant, and where our values of unity and compassion guide every decision we make."
From his post, Akaza glanced subtly at Muzan, who's clearly reveling in the love and support he's getting. Then he looked at the crowd; everybody was now on their feet, applauding loudly and chanting his name. Akaza couldn't help but feel immensely impressed by his boss' charisma and command on stage. It's like it was written in the sky that Muzan was born to be on stage. Born to be in the spotlight.
At this point, Muzan couldn't help but flash everybody with the biggest smile he has ever worn in front of everybody, but to you, that was a smile you'd fallen in love with twelve years ago. You already saw that smile a bunch of times. From the day you said yes to him when he was courting you, the day you celebrated your first anniversary, when you said yes to his proposal, and when the priest announced you as husband and wife.
'Hakuji Soyama x L/N Y/N - Just got engaged! (03/03/2015)'
As that flashed in your mind, you stopped dead in your tracks. It has been a few days since that day, and sadly, it has continued to haunt you. From time to time, either the photo or the words scribbled at the back would flash in your mind, making you rather uneasy and agitated. As much as you wanted to deny it, it was clear as day as to who you saw in that photo.
"Thank you, Azudellin. Your spirit has filled me with renewed strength and conviction. Let us walk this path together, with hope in our hearts and determination in our souls. The future is ours to build, and I believe with all my heart that we will build it together.
Thank you, and may we continue to forge ahead with courage and unity!"
As Muzan finished his speech strongly, the crowd erupted into cheers and applause once again, many of them even coming forward to shake hands with him and express their utmost support for him. The loud cheers woke you up from your stupor. Looking up, you saw your beloved husband get showered with so much love and support. Meanwhile, Akaza and Kokushibo were doing their best to do crowd control.
At that moment, your eyes darted from your husband to your personal bodyguard multiple times before Muzan's voice called out to you. From his point of view, you must be feeling quite overwhelmed given that there's a high volume of people walking and running from all sides, and so he took it upon himself to call you to him, but the loud crowd made it impossible for you to hear him.
"Madam," Akaza said while reaching out to you to guide you to Muzan.
You gingerly took his hand and let him guide you away from the roaring crowd. Akaza couldn't help but frown a little upon seeing the rather unusual look on your face. He knows you tend to get overwhelmed with crowds, but he can't help but assume that something else is plaguing your mind.
Muzan shared his sentiment as well, and so he called out to Akaza, "Escort her inside! I'll be right there."
Akaza bowed and uttered a 'yes, sir.' before proceeding to guide you out of harm's way.
"Are you okay? Do you need something?" Akaza asked you while you took a seat.
You smiled sheepishly and said, "A glass of water would be nice."
Akaza nodded politely and excused himself so he could fetch you your drink. While waiting, Muzan emerged from the door along with his political party. You could hear the noise from outside subsiding, which meant the people were gradually leaving now that the townhall was over.
Muzan immediately went to you, kneeling in front of you while wearing a worried expression on his face.
"Hey, darling, are you okay?" he said, one of his hands cupping one side of your face and his thumb caressing your cheeks tenderly as he tends to you.
You nodded and smiled fondly at your husband.
"I'm fine. I was just a bit overwhelmed earlier. You did a little too well back there with your speech that everybody was on their toes shouting their hearts for you," you joked.
Muzan snorted and chuckled at your joke, "Did I?"
"Mhm. Show off~"
Your husband smirked at your joke, pinching your cheek playfully as he replied, "How can I make it up to you then?"
"Madam, your water," Akaza said, unknowingly disrupting your sweet moment with your husband. You gratefully took the water bottle and mouthed a thank you; meanwhile, Muzan got up and sat next to you.
After taking a swig of your drink, you turned to Muzan and said, "Since it would take us six hours to get back to Areswood, can we stay the night here, my love?"
"Hm? Sure. I don't see why not."
Smiling gratefully at this, you leaned forward and gave your husband a peck on the lips, to which Muzan audaciously chased after your lips when you pulled away and captured them again for another sweet kiss.
"I was also hoping we could go on a date with just the two of us, like without Akaza or Kokushibo tailing behind us."
Muzan was slightly taken aback by your request; his face was rather unreadable. There were a lot of things racing in his mind, mostly your safety, but you woke him up from his stupor when you pressed on, "Please?"
After a few seconds of you doing your damnedest to give your husband the cute puppy face, he yielded. A fond smile danced on Muzan's lips as he looked pointedly at you.
"Your wish is my command."
You broke out into a huge smile and tackled your husband into a tight hug, almost pressing your whole body against his, totally not caring people were around.
"You're the best!" you exclaimed, to which Muzan responded with a fond laugh as he reciprocated your hug with just as much passion.
He then placed a kiss on top of your head before pulling away from the hug to face both Akaza and Kokushibo. As much as he wanted to revert back to his stoic self, the smile that was tugging at the corners of his lip was winning, as you and the townhall had put him in such a good mood.
"Tomorrow, have the day off. Azudellin is vastly big, so take the opportunity to roam around. I'll give you some pocket money. Just have your phones open just in case of emergencies."
"Yes, sir. Thank you." Both Akaza and Kokushibo responded politely.
Muzan nodded. "We're done here, so have the car ready so we can all return back to the hotel."
He was met with another chorus of 'Yes, sir.' before the two of them hurried back to the parking lot to get the car ready to escort you back to the hotel.
Muzan watched as Akaza and Kokushibo walked off. When they opened the door, the two of you noticed that the noise from outside had completely died down and the ambiance in the entire place had become more peaceful.
With a soft sigh of contentment, Muzan turned his attention back to you.
"Ready to go?"
You nodded happily and said, "Yes."
As you both stood up, ready to leave the venue, Muzan placed a protective arm around you. "I must admit, I am looking forward to our date. Thinking about it now, it really has been a while since we last went on a proper one, no?"
You nodded in agreement, letting Muzan guide you through the now-thinning crowd. Akaza and Kokushibo were already waiting by the car, the vehicle's engine rumbling softly in anticipation of the journey ahead.
While walking side by side, you gave his waist a loving squeeze and even stopped him for a moment to give him another kiss on the lips, and your husband immediately picked up on the longing that lingered in the sweet gesture.
"It really has. To say that I've been missing you is an understatement, to be quite honest."
Before stepping into the car, Muzan glanced at you one last time, his expression a mix of excitement and tenderness. "I feel the same way, Y/N."
"Let's make the most of our free time here, hm?"
"Of course, and I'll also see to it that we go on dates as much as we can when we get back home."
You smiled at this, clearly happy and thankful for Muzan's thoughtfulness. You really are the luckiest woman in the world.
"I'd love that."
With that, Muzan opened the car door for you, and as you both settled inside, he turned to Akaza and Kokushibo. "Take us to the hotel, please. And remember, enjoy the day off. I trust you’ll keep things under control."
"Understood, sir," Akaza responded as he slid into the driver's seat, and Kokushibo took the front passenger seat.
As the car began to move, you turned to Muzan, your eyes shining with pride. "Your speech today was incredible, my love. You really have a way of connecting with people. I could see how moved everyone was."
Muzan smiled, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "Thank you, darling. It means a lot to hear that from you. I put my heart into that speech, hoping to reach everyone in the crowd."
"You did more than reach them," you said softly. "You inspired them. I’ve never been prouder of you. Seeing you up there, speaking with such passion and conviction... it reminded me of why I fell in love with you."
Muzan's eyes softened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. "I’m glad I could make you proud. Your support means everything to me. I couldn’t do any of this without you by my side."
You blushed at his words, feeling the sincerity behind them. "I’ll always be here for you, Muzan. No matter what."
The car glided smoothly through the evening, and Muzan couldn’t help but glance at you with a satisfied smile.
"Tonight, let's celebrate. Not just the success of the town hall, but us—our partnership, our love. I promise, tonight will be special."
You smiled back at him, feeling a warmth spread through your chest.
"I’m looking forward to it."
From the driver's seat, Akaza's eyes remained focused on the road, but a faint smile was dancing on his lips, but it immediately disappeared the moment he realized what he was doing.
But he couldn't help it.
He couldn't stop himself from feeling genuinely happy for you at this very moment. And he couldn't help but feel admiration for the man he swore was the bane of his and your existence.
He bit his lips as he continued to drive back to the hotel. On the outside, he remained stoic, but from within, in the depths of his heart, he feels incredibly conflicted.
"Akaza, what's wrong?" Muzan asked from the backseat. It was dark in the car, so no one could see how piercing his gaze was.
Akaza merely shook his head, not wanting to lose focus on his driving. "Nothing, sir."
Muzan's eyes narrowed slightly, his intuition telling him otherwise. "Are you sure?"
Akaza shook his head rather sheepishly.
"It's just... I noticed Madam seemed a bit off earlier. I wanted to make sure everything was alright."
Muzan glanced at you, his expression softening as he saw the concern in Akaza's eyes.
"She was a bit overwhelmed, but she's fine now. You know how these events can be."
Akaza nodded in agreement.
"Of course, sir. I just wanted to be sure. We can't afford any mistakes."
Muzan's gaze softened a bit as he saw the genuine concern in Akaza's eyes. "Your vigilance is appreciated, Akaza. But sometimes, it's just the weight of the moment. Thank you for looking out for her."
Akaza relaxed slightly at Muzan's reassurance.
"Understood, sir. I'll keep a close watch."
Kokushibo, who had been silent until now, chimed in from the passenger seat. "Akaza's right to be cautious, but I agree with you, sir. It seemed like a momentary lapse. We have everything under control."
Muzan nodded, feeling more at ease. "Very well. Let's focus on getting to the hotel. We all need some rest after today."
As the car continued its smooth journey, Muzan squeezed your hand gently, offering you a reassuring smile. "We're almost there, darling. Just a bit longer."
You smiled back.
"Thank you, Muzan. And thank you, Akaza. I appreciate your concern."
Akaza glanced at you through the rearview mirror, his expression softening. "You're welcome, Madam."
The car finally pulled up to the hotel, and as you stepped out, Muzan wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you inside. Akaza and Kokushibo followed closely, their watchful eyes ensuring your safety.
Once inside your suite, Muzan turned to you with a tender smile.
"Now, let's enjoy our evening and tomorrow. Just you and me."
You nodded, feeling the stress of the day melt away.
"I couldn't ask for anything more."
*
The date was fantastic.
Azudellin was a feast for the senses. Grand, old structures lined the streets, their intricate carvings whispering tales of Phario's glorious past. You and Muzan, both art lovers, wandered hand-in-hand, marveling at the architecture.
At one point, a group of tourists recognized you, but instead of rushing over, they gave a polite nod and a smile, respecting your privacy. You sent them a grateful smile in return.
The bustling market was your next stop. Unlike the grandeur of the historical sites, the market was a riot of colors, sounds, and smells. The air hung heavy with the aroma of spices and sizzling meat. Muzan chuckled as you excitedly dove into the throng, bargaining for souvenirs.
You emerged with a delightful mix of treasures: a hand-painted fan for Kokushibo, a woven scarf for Akaza, some trinkets for the maids and guards back at home, and of course, presents for your friends as well.
"Don't forget about me," Muzan teased, his voice warm.
You winked. "Of course not."
Your fingers brushed against a rack of clothes, and then you spotted it—a button-down shirt made from a fabric that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight. It was a perfect shade of blue, and you knew exactly who it would look good on.
Muzan slipped the top on, and your breath hitched. The rich blue brought out the vibrant contrast with his scarlet eyes, and the fabric skimmed his toned physique.
A blush crept up your cheeks as you stammered, "It looks amazing! Absolutely perfect."
Muzan's lips curled into a satisfied smirk. He struck a pose, eliciting a giggle from you. The rest of the afternoon was spent exploring hidden alleys and sharing stolen kisses, the joy of the day bubbling over in every interaction.
Dinner was the perfect ending to a perfect day.
The restaurant, renowned for its seafood, boasted a breathtaking view of the Azudellin coastline. As you savored the melt-in-your-mouth fish and the tangy local salad, you couldn't help but steal glances at Muzan across the table.
Gratitude filled your heart for this man, who brought so much love and laughter into your life.
The fairy lights strung across the restaurant balcony twinkled like captured stars, casting a warm glow over the table. The gentle sea breeze carried the murmur of waves and the scent of salt, creating a serenely romantic atmosphere.
You took a sip of your mango iced tea, letting the cool sweetness dance on your tongue.
"This has been such a fantastic day," you said, leaning back in your chair with a contented sigh. "Azudellin is simply amazing."
Muzan, seated across from you, mirrored your smile. His warm, scarlet eyes sparkled with genuine affection. "Absolutely," he agreed, taking a slow bite of his fish. "Though the scenery pales in comparison to the beautiful sight before me."
A blush crept up your cheeks at his unexpected compliment. "Muzan," you chided playfully, "you always know what to say."
He chuckled, making a rich, rumbling sound. "Flattery? No, sweetheart. It's the truth. Seeing you so happy and so engaged with everything today...it brings me a joy I never thought possible."
His words sent a thrill through you. It wasn't every day that Muzan, a man known for his sharp intellect and driven nature, spoke so openly about his emotions, but then again, behind closed doors, you always see this side of him, but even then, when he speaks from his heart, it never fails to sweep you off of your feet.
You reached across the table, your fingers intertwining with his. "Me too, Muzan. I wouldn't have wanted to spend this day with anyone else."
A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment, punctuated only by the soft clinking of silverware.
"Remember that little market stall overflowing with fans?" you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. "I almost forgot how much you struggled with the heat."
Muzan's lips twitched. "An astute observation, my love. Although witnessing your bargaining prowess was...interesting, to say the least."
You laughed, the sound tinkling like windchimes.
"Oh, come on now, it wasn't that bad! Besides, you can't deny the satisfaction of getting a good deal."
"Perhaps," he conceded, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Though, I daresay the look on that vendor's face when you countered his offer was priceless."
You both dissolved into laughter, the memory of your playful haggling warming the night air. As the laughter subsided, Muzan leaned closer, his voice dropping to a tender whisper.
"You know, Y/N," he began, his scarlet eyes searching yours, "this day has been exactly what I needed. Honestly, it was a brilliant call suggesting this date."
A blush crept up your cheeks. "Really?"
He squeezed your hand, the warmth radiating through you.
"Absolutely. The campaign has been all-consuming lately, and quite honestly, there have been a few times where I felt overwhelmed. As much as I don't want to admit it, but as the day of the election draws closer, I can't help but feel nervous."
His gaze softened further.
"So seeing you so happy and so carefree today... it reminded me why I'm doing all this."
Your heart ached with a mix of joy and a touch of sadness. "I know this election means the world to you, Muzan. It's always been your biggest dream."
A flicker of regret crossed his features. "And it is, darling. But maybe I haven't been as good at showing you just how much you mean to me in all the craziness. These past few weeks, I've missed..." He trailed off, searching for the right words.
Taking a deep breath, you placed your free hand over his. "You've missed us, haven't you?"
You weren't accusing; you were just stating the truth.
A faint smile touched his lips.
"Yes. I've missed us. I've missed these quiet moments, these shared laughs. Truth be told, I've missed you terribly."
His voice softened further, tinged with a hint of apology.
"I know you've been holding back a bit, wanting to be supportive, and for that, I apologize. But please, don't ever feel like you can't tell me how you're feeling, even when things are hectic."
His words washed over you like a wave of relief and understanding, and as cliché as it sounds, you're almost certain you've fallen for him all over again.
All the wariness and anxiety that damn photo has been giving you these past few days have completely vanished. That old lady must've mistaken you for someone else, and there's also the possibility that the woman in that photo was just someone who resembles you, because you honestly could not picture yourself being in love with someone else.
Muzan is the love of your life, and he will always be. You've built a life together, filled with shared dreams, laughter, and moments like these that reaffirm your bond. The thought of anyone else simply doesn't fit into the picture of your heart.
You pushed the doubts aside, focusing on the here and now.
The truth was in the way he looked at you, the way he held your hand, and the way he spoke with such sincerity.
Nothing else mattered.
You were certain of your love and of the future you were building together. As you squeezed Muzan's hand a little tighter, you knew that no photograph or fleeting worry could ever shake the foundation of the life you were creating.
You looked at your husband with misty eyes and a huge smile on your face and said, "I love you so much, Muzan."
His expression softened, his thumb gently stroking your hand. "And I love you more than words can express, my love."
With a tender smile, Muzan rose from his seat and walked around the table to stand beside you. He took your hands and gently pulled you to your feet. Under the fairy lights, with the ocean as your backdrop, he wrapped his arms around you, drawing you close.
"Let's make a promise," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.
You tilted your head back to meet his gaze. "What promise?"
"No matter how busy life gets, no matter what challenges come our way, we'll always make time for moments like this—moments that remind us of why we fell in love in the first place."
Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. "I promise," you whispered.
He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a tender, lingering kiss. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble of love and contentment.
When the kiss ended, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Thank you for today, Muzan. I had so much fun."
He held you tighter and mirrored your smile.
"Anything and everything for you, Y/N.”
*
“What did you just say?”
Muzan's voice was dangerously calm as he looked at Akaza, his expression unreadable. But as the words sank in, his face turned sour.
“You're resigning? Why?”
Akaza winced but held his ground.
“No reason in particular, but I’ve been doing some thinking, and I figured it’s time for me to look for other opportunities elsewhere.”
Silence enveloped Muzan’s personal office in your mansion. Your husband stared pointedly at your bodyguard, clearly flabbergasted by the sudden decision to resign from his post. It was all too sudden, and rather... unexpected.
Akaza shared the same sentiment.
He hadn’t planned on resigning anytime soon; he was hellbent on seeing everything through, even if a bitter end awaited him. But after last weekend in Azudellin, an epiphany struck him.
Maybe it was for the best that he stood down and gave up.
He didn’t want to, but seeing you so happy and in love, maybe... Just maybe, it was okay to give you up as long as you were happy.
“I’m not allowing it.”
Muzan’s commanding voice snapped Akaza out of his thoughts. He looked up and finally noticed the fury on Muzan's face.
“We’re in the middle of the election season. You know damn well Y/N’s safety is at stake because of my candidacy, and you know how risky it is to entrust your job to someone else, Akaza. You’re the best at what you do, and you’re the only one I trust to keep her safe.”
“Sir Muzan, I understand, but—”
“No, you don’t understand!”
Muzan's voice rose, echoing through the office.
“You don’t get to walk away just because you’re having second thoughts. Your loyalty is not something you can just toss aside on a whim.”
Akaza took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.
“It's not on a whim. I've thought this through. I just—”
“You just what?”
Muzan interrupted, his eyes blazing.
“You think you can just leave and everything will be fine? You think I’ll find someone who can protect her like you do? I demand your commitment, Akaza. And I will not let you walk away when we need you the most.”
Akaza’s resolve wavered under Muzan’s intense gaze. He had never seen his employer this furious. “Sir, I—”
“No!” Muzan’s voice was thunderous now.
“You’re not resigning. You’re not leaving. You will stay, and you will do your job. Because if anything happens to Y/N, it will be on your head. Do you understand me?”
Akaza’s shoulders slumped, the weight of Muzan's words crashing down on him. He couldn't argue with the man because, quite frankly, he did have a very valid point.
Not just you, but Muzan also has a target on his back solely because of the elections, and this is not the time for any big changes, especially with everything so volatile. His resignation could create a significant gap in your security, jeopardizing not only his safety but yours as well.
Any disruption could have far-reaching consequences.
“I understand, sir,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll stay.”
Muzan’s anger slowly dissipated, but his gaze remained stern.
“I'll let you go once the election is over and only once the coast is clear. But until then, I expect you to do your job and maintain the highest level of vigilance and dedication. ”
Akaza nodded solemnly. “Understood, sir.”
Muzan took a deep breath, his voice softening but still carrying a sharp edge. “I know this isn’t easy for you, and I appreciate your commitment. But I need you to understand that this isn’t just about personal preference. It’s about the safety of everyone involved, especially Y/N.”
Akaza met Muzan’s gaze, feeling the weight of his words. “I get it, sir. I won't let you down."
Muzan nodded, though his expression remained serious.
“Good. Remember, this isn’t just about duty. It’s about trust. I trust you to handle this responsibility, and I expect you to honor that trust.”
Akaza straightened, his resolve returning to his stance. “Yes sir."
As he turned to leave the office, Muzan watched him with a mixture of frustration and reluctant respect. The door clicked softly behind Akaza, and he was left alone with his thoughts.
Muzan sighed deeply, turning back to his desk, though his gaze lingered on the door where Akaza had just exited. The mounting pressure was more than he could handle, and in a moment of frustration, he struck out.
Against his will, the weight of exhaustion and doubt crept into his veins. He had always prided himself on his strength and capability, but the constant pressure of running Obelisk Kibutsuji, combined with the relentless demands of his political campaign, had worn him down.
The accumulated fatigue was making him question his ability to keep everything under control, and Akaza’s sudden resignation attempt pushed him to his breaking point.
It felt like a slap in the face, and Muzan simply couldn’t afford the added stress.
The fatigue was beginning to overwhelm him, while imposter syndrome whispered doubts that he was failing and couldn’t manage the responsibilities tied to his ambitions.
“Ah, this isn’t good,” Muzan said to himself, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of any unwanted distraction.
But the frustration was too much.
With a surge of anger, he brought his fist down hard on the table, leaving a nasty dent in the furniture and a painful bruise and cut on his knuckles. He winced at the pain, clenching his jaw as he tried to regain his composure. His heart raced, the pain amplifying his frustration, and he felt a moment of regret for not finding a healthier outlet for his emotions.
Just then, you appeared at the doorway, your face etched with concern.
“Hey, are you okay?”
At the sound of your voice, Muzan forced a small smile onto his face, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Your timing always amazed him, even in moments like this. He turned to see you standing there, your worry evident on your face. You gasped as you saw the blood seeping through his clenched fist, your heart sinking.
His gaze fell to his injured hand, still throbbing from the impact.
"You’ve hurt yourself," you said, rushing over to him with a frown. "What happened?"
Muzan tried to downplay it. "I'm fine. It’s nothing. Just... got caught up in the moment."
He tried to brush off your concern with a wave of his hand, but his pained expression betrayed him. Gently, you placed a hand on his shoulder, your touch tender and soothing. The sight of his injured hand and the distressed expression on his face had alarmed you.
"Oh, God, your hand is swelling." You winced as you examined his injured hand, and then you turned to him with a disapproving frown, but more than anything, you were hurting for him. "Care to tell me what happened?"
He quickly covered his hand with his other, though the damage was evident. "It's nothing, really. Just a moment of frustration," he explained, his voice calm but with a hint of weariness.
"It's nothing, but you look like that? Muzan, what if you got seriously hurt?" you scolded him, your voice laced with concern. "You know I worry about you."
He sighed, avoiding your gaze. "It’s just... the stress. The campaign, Obelisk Kibutsuji, everything. It’s been a lot, and I didn’t handle it well."
You gently cupped his face with your hands, brushing a thumb over his cheek.
"I understand that you're under a lot of pressure, but hurting yourself isn’t the answer. If you need to let out some steam, you can vent to me, you know?"
Muzan closed his eyes briefly, savoring the comforting touch. The warmth of your presence helped ease the tension in his shoulders and the gnawing stress that had been building.
"I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s just been overwhelming."
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "I know, and I’m here to help. But please, stop resorting to things like this, my love. I wouldn't know what to do if you seriously get hurt."
Muzan opened his eyes, meeting your gaze with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you. I really appreciate your support. It means more than you know."
You leaned in and kissed his forehead softly. "I’ll always be here for you. If you need a break or just a moment to breathe, let me know. We can go for a walk or just spend some quiet time together."
Muzan wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. "I’m grateful for you. I promise to take some time to rest and not let the stress consume me."
You held him a little longer, feeling the weight of his stress ease slightly in your embrace. "Good. And remember, if you ever need to talk or just want to escape the chaos for a bit, I’m always here for you."
"Thank you, Y/N," Muzan said wholeheartedly, his voice reflecting the sincerity of his gratitude.
You smiled, feeling the depth of his appreciation.
"Well, I’ve got a few errands to run today, but if you need anything, just call me." Your voice sounded anything but resolute as you hesitated, glancing at the dented desk and his swollen hand.
The pang of reluctance to leave him alone in this state was evident.
“Actually, maybe I should stay a bit longer and help you get settled. I’m really not comfortable leaving you like this.”
Muzan shook his head gently, a reassuring smile returning to his lips. "I appreciate it, really, but I’m fine now. I don’t want you to miss your commitments because of me."
You looked at him with a mixture of concern and understanding. “Alright, but promise me you'll be careful and take it easy. If you need anything or just want to talk, don’t hesitate to call.”
“I promise,” Muzan said, his voice steady.
“Thank you. I’ll call Aoi to help you treat your hand,” you said, with a last, lingering look at him before turning to leave.
“I’m fine, darling. I have a first-aid kit here in my office. You can have her bring me ice instead.”
You nodded, smiling at your husband before giving him a kiss on the lips, hoping it would somehow relieve some of the burden he’s carrying on his shoulders. “Alright.”
With a final, affectionate glance, you gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze before heading towards the door. As you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to stay longer, but you trusted him to handle things.
Muzan watched you go, feeling calmer and more grounded. As the door closed behind you, he gingerly walked to the corner of his office where he kept a first aid kit for emergencies.
With a determined sigh, he bandaged his hand, mentally steeling himself to face the rest of the day with renewed resolve. After treating his hand, he returned to his desk, ready to tackle the tasks ahead with renewed clarity and determination.
-
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just had a brain blast
i suddenly want to start writing my first full length bnha fic aahhhhh
would anyone want to read that? (either way, i'm still going to do it HAHA)
really want to get fucked in missionary so he can put his forehead against mine and make eye contact while he thrusts in fast and pulls out slow, mouths only an inch apart, breathing heavily, reaching so deep that i can feel him in my lungs—



