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purinfelix · 25 days ago

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just for the weekend ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ - franco colapinto

summary: your teammate has an absolutely ridiculous plan to bring your team back from the dead - but it might be just crazy enough to work w/c: 5.5k + some smau style tweets warnings: a little angst, some uncomfortable touching/kissing since it's fake dating (not too bad but better safe than sorry), some miscommunication - just two idiots in love i fear

a/n: WOW it's finally here, fake dating is literally a guilty pleasure trope for me so i hope yall enjoy this HAHA - also sorry to Williams fans bc there's a lot of slander in this but trust its all for the plot <333 (also holy shit this is the longest fic I've ever written WOW)

"You're actually insane."

"Oh c'mon, at least think about it for a minute, it's perfect!"

You fold your arms over your chest and try your best to look uninterested in whatever it is your teammate has to say. The two of you had been racing together for a little over half a year now, and you had witnessed him make (at least in your opinion) a grand fool of himself. Flirting with interviewers, winking at cameras, having absolutely no filter during press conferences - but this, this was by far the craziest thing you had heard come out of his mouth.

"A fake relationship?"

"Ah ah ah," he tuts, jutting a finger in your face, "a media relationship, one that will draw the attention away from how crap we're doing and onto the personalities of the team. Think about it, McLaren has whatever Oscar and Lando have got going on and Ferrari basically has two models for drivers. We need something to put us on the map, to make people care about us!"

You pause, and for a minute you seriously consider his outrageous proposition - he isn't completely wrong. For the two of you, making it into the points range was a rare occurrence, and even though the team always made sure to celebrate it like a podium there was something that stung about constantly being at the bottom.

"Do you realise how much trouble we could get into?"

"Ah," he sighs, and it's starting to annoy you how lightly he's talking about this, "ever the pragmatist."

"Well one of us has to be if the other's going to keep saying stupid shit," you huff before turning around and beelining out of his driver's room.

Seriously, a fake relationship? Had he lost his mind? Maybe if he focused more on his racing you wouldn't be constantly outperforming him.

"At least think about it, okay?" You hear him call out from behind you, and consider yourself lucky to be facing the other way so that he doesn't catch your obnoxious eye roll. Surely he had to be kidding because there was no way you were going to devote any amount of time to this ridiculous thought.

God fucking damnit.

It was frustratingly confusing, the kind of power Franco had. You had witnessed it first hand with how smoothly he spoke to anyone and managed to get his way almost instantly - but this was your first time experiencing it first-hand. It was another weekend, another country, another race, but the only thing you could think of was his stupid consideration - which, with each passing moment, seemed increasingly genius.

You had almost a year of experience with the team over your teammate, and with that, your fair share of embarrassment and disappointment. Sure, his idea was a little out there but you were close to being at your wits end and if nothing else, you hoped this would at least be a little fun. Plus you were pretty sure at this point if you didn't act on this thought soon, it would start interfering with your performance.

"Fine," you said a little breathlessly as you burst into his driver's room ahead of a race.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, looking at you with a shocked look, "whatever happened to knocking? I could've been naked in here!"

You roll your eyes before continuing, "You still up to the ..." You pause, thinking of how best to word it, "Fake relationship thing?"

His eyes light up immediately, "Ah, I knew you'd come around eventually."

Letting out a soft huff, just to let him know that you still aren't fully convinced this will work, you sit down on his couch. "I think we should lay down some ground rules first."

"Yes ma'am." He nods, straightening up and forcing a serious expression you can only assume is mocking yours.

"Firstly, no kissing."

"Understood."

"Actually no public affection at all, holding hands, hugging, nothing."

"Oh sure and how exactly are we going to convince people then?"

You pause, thinking for a little, "Okay maybe hand-holding and hugs are fine, but you better not push it - that goes for the pet names as well." He nods with a satisfied smile.

"And no one other than us two can know this is fake, alright? Otherwise, it'll spoil the plan."

"Trust me, I don't need anyone knowing I'm going along with something as ridiculous as this. It'll be our little secret."

"Our little secret," he repeats with a hum, a sly sort of smile spreading across his face as he gets up from his spot. "See you after the race, my love."

You sighed in exasperation, tossing your phone to the side of the couch in your driver's room where it fell with a light thud. You had about a thousand other things to be worrying about - your pretty disappointing result in qualifying for one - but for some reason, the main thing on your mind was your 'relationship' with Franco. Somehow, it had proved even more intense than you had expected, which planted a seed of worry in your mind as you realised how hard this was actually going to be to pull off. Since his not-so-subtle announcement to a hoard of hungry press members at last week's race, the media had managed up a flurry about the two of you.

There were supportive fans who liked you both enough not to see any problem with two teammates dating, as well as others who were more sceptical about how it might impact your performance. However, what really seemed to get to you were those who doubted you more than the relationship.

Your social media had been bombarded with comments and theories about the reason behind your relationship, doubting your place on the grid, and calling you names that - after shedding the status of 'first girl rookie', you thought you had left behind. Regardless, you feel a little stupid for being so unprepared for all this - not just the tweets but the harsh articles, the questions during press interviews and even shouting fans. Maybe if you had done a little more thinking about it first, you would've realised this was a stupid idea that should've been left at just that.

Throwing your head back you let out an exasperated sigh, trying to clear your head so that you could move on and focus on the race that was happening tomorrow. The last thing you wanted was for this plan to start impacting your driving. But Franco always seemed to have the worst timing - or best, depending on who you asked.

"Hello?" A couple quick knocks alert you of his presence before he cracks the door just wide enough to peek in. "There's my beautiful girlfriend." The way the pet names and affection seem to come to him so easily makes you simultaneously impressed and concerned, unsure of whether it's an indication of his great acting or flirting skills.

"What do you want?" You try to make it as obvious as you can that you're not in the mood, and he realises this right away.

"Oh, nothing, I just wanted to ask if you were free after this."

"You know I'm not really a huge fan of the big team dinners, especially not when we have a race tomorrow."

"Oh it's not like that, I was just going to go check out a restaurant near our hotel and wondered if you wanted to join me."

When you finally speak it's just above a whisper, "Is this a part of the fake dating thing?"

He laughs softly, his ability to find everything entertaining has always amazed you. "If you want to, it can be. If that gives you a reason to come hang out with me, though if you don't it's totally fine."

"No, I'll come, not like I've got anything better to do." You hate how every word you've said so far has sounded so pathetic.

"Great, I'll meet you by the paddock entry in ten?"

"See you then."

The street lights were dim, just bright enough to illuminate the street the two of you were walking down. The night was cool and still, and there were barely any people out other than you. You weren't sure why, but you had ended up telling Franco a lot more than you had expected. Maybe it was the extremely fancy restaurant you had initially gone to or the local one the two of you agreed to ditch it for instead, or maybe it was just the freeing feeling of being in another country.

The two of you had talked before, of course - as teammates it was difficult to avoid. But beyond the casual small talk, discussions about strategies or banter during challenges your relationship never extended beyond casual co-existence. It was one of the reasons you were glad your higher-ups had never tried to force the two of you into a professional friendship. There was something about Franco, his ability to strike up a conversation and maintain it even when the topic clearly strayed far beyond his interests, that made him so likeable, so easy to get along with. And the support he got from fans and the media reflected this well. You just never felt like there was any room for you in that equation.

But here, away from the cameras and shedding the roles of drivers, the two of you became normal people. You spoke, you laughed, you vented to him everything that worried you about your 'relationship' and he listened throughout all of it - all the while the two of you shared the biggest, best, pizza you had ever had.

"I have to say, I don't know if our engineers will appreciate the extra weight I've just put on," he jokes, breaking the comfortable silence that had been lingering around you two as you walked.

"Me neither, they might have to roll me into the car at this rate."

"You know, I think this is the first time the two of us have hung out, just us two."

You think for a little before answering, "You're right."

"Do you think there's a reason for that?"

"You mean besides us both being extremely busy people and already seeing each other pretty often? Not really, no."

"Good point, though with our little plan, we're definitely going to be seeing each other a lot more."

There's a beat of silence. "This is nice though, right?" He asks, and his voice is so tentative you almost find it endearing.

"It is nice, this was fun." You try not to think too much about the fact the two of you could be mistaken by any passer-by as a couple of lovebirds on a first date - or that fact that even to those who knew you, you were.

"I appreciate you telling me all that stuff, you know, about what people are saying about you."

"Oh, if anything I should be thanking you for listening to me vent about it."

"It is serious though, I'm so stupid for not even thinking about what you'd have to deal with."

"Well I don't think either of us gave it enough thought but," you pause and look up at him, "we're too far in to back out now."

He shoots you a comforting smile, one that shows how reassured he feels that you seem to finally be coming around to his idea. That is, at least, before his face morphs into one of discomfort.

"God, I'm so full."

"We're almost back at the hotel now, let's just sleep and then we can wake up early tomorrow morning to-"

"Wait, is that ice cream?" Franco interrupts you to point out a street vendor who's about to pack up for the night, and before you know it he's running up to the man eagerly. You can only follow suit with a sigh, knowing full well you wouldn't mind some dessert either.

"You two are lucky, you'll be my last customers for the night," the moustachioed owner of the cart says with a warm smile.

"Thanks," you reply kindly, before turning to Franco, "what flavour do you think you'll get."

"Hm, not sure, maybe chocolate?"

"Wow, boring."

He scoffs, "Oh yeah? And what exotic flavour are you going to get then?"

"Mint choc," you smile, but your face drops once you see your teammate's disgusted expression.

"You've got to be kidding me, that's like the worst choice."

You feign offence, "How dare you insult the best ice cream flavour of all time?"

"Ah, you two are quite the couple," the man laughs and you watch as Franco's eyes widen in embarrassment.

"Oh we're not-"

"Thank you," it's your turn to interrupt him, turning to the man with a smile. "One chocolate and one mint choc chip please."

You go to reach for your wallet to pay but you feel a hand on yours, stopping you.

"No, it's okay, I got this."

"Wh- Franco c'mon you know full well both of us could afford about a thousand of these ice cream cones don't be ridiculous."

"I know," he smiles and even though he's trying to be serious you know he's also trying not to laugh, "but I just figured you know, I'm the one who dragged you out here and like, got you into this whole fake dating mess."

You furrow your brows, a little confused at what exactly he's getting at.

"I guess I just want to say thank you, you know?"

"Alright, alright," you laugh softly, watching as he pays and takes both of the cones, handing you yours. Once you grab yours, you instinctively loop your arm around his, pulling him close and resting your head against his shoulder. The ice cream man laughs endearingly at the two of you.

"You're the best boyfriend ever!" you say in as high and cute a voice you can manage, cringing a little but determined to keep up the bit - you don't even bother to think about how fast you can feel Franco's heart race when you do.

Last night was really nice. You're sitting next to your race engineer, nodding along as she points to various multi-coloured dots and lines on the screen. You hear yourself agreeing with a couple quick "mhms", "of course" and "yep"s even though you can barely hear what she's saying. You're mere minutes away from getting in your car for a race, getting briefed on your strategy, and the only thing you can think of is the 'date' you had with Franco last night - if you can even call it that.

You had thought that getting everything off your chest, the hate comments, the doubt you had, would help you feel better and relieve any worries you had. And it did, at least until you got back to your hotel room alone and caught yourself smiling at the thought of seeing your teammate again the next day. How, even as you washed up and got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking - pizza, ice cream, walking at night together, isn't that something a real couple would do?

"Are you listening to me?" your race engineer's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts, causing you to straighten up immediately.

"Yes! Sorry," you mumble, but just at that moment, you see him walk into the garage, greeting a couple of the mechanics warmly. Before you realise it, he's beelining straight for you, his arm coming around your waist as he leans in close to your ear.

"There's a ton of cameras, I just wanted to be believable," he whispers, and when he pulls back you can see the smile on his face. You nod curtly, fully aware of how red your face feels over such a small interaction as he waltzes away.

"Okay, so as I was saying," your race engineer pipes up again, though you couldn't be paying her less of your attention - watching as your 'boyfriend' walks off, his brown hair illuminating in the afternoon light. For a fake relationship, the quickening pace of your heart felt far too real.

"Well you two have been teammates since the beginning of this year, can you tell us a little about when you realised you might be more?"

Your struggle was never-ending - or at least, that's what it felt like, finding yourself at the centre of an impromptu interview with Franco. Around you, the other drivers were getting questions about their place in their teams, how they felt about their current strategy and about their racing futures. And there the two of you were, getting thrown question after question about your 'relationship'.

"Well," you begin, before being saved by your teammate. You had to give it to him - he was great at making stuff up on the spot.

"Well, I think it was somewhere around a month after I first joined the team, and met her. It was just something about her, she's sort of electric in this almost untouchable way, you know?"

You try not to look too awkward standing next to him as he talks, feigning your best-interested smile - though a part of you is extremely intrigued by this fake story he's creating.

"At first I thought I just wanted to be like her, her passion and talent were just so respectable, but the more time I spent with her the more I realised it was something completely different."

He turns to look at you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you close to him. Your expression falters a little as you're caught off guard by the sudden contact and as you turn away from the journalists and towards him, your eyes widen in shock at the sight of his pursed lips nearing yours. Before you realise it, his lips are against yours and you're pulling away as quickly as possible, face bright red. You're just barely aware of the thousands of flashing camera lights as you turn to quickly excuse yourself.

"Thank you all for coming, it was nice talking to you but, uhm, I have to go!" You hurriedly blurt out before slipping out of Franco's grip and darting off to your driver's room.

You hear his footsteps following closely behind you, as well as the sound of him calling out your name. When you near the door of your room, you turn around and grab his wrist to yank him in before you shut the door.

"What the hell was that?" is all you can muster out, "I thought we agreed no kissing?"

"Look, I can explain!"

You cross your arms with a huff, looking at him expectedly.

"I was just going to peck you quickly on the cheek, you know because we were getting all romantic and I wanted it to be believable! B-but then you turned, and then we," he's struggling not to ramble and his quickly moving hands do little to help. That's when you also realise his face is bright red as well, and he doesn't seem any less flustered by it than you do. "I'm really, really sorry I really shouldn't have done that."

You'd be lying if you said his explanation didn't make you feel any better. You're not actually upset about the kiss itself though, in fact, it's the opposite - actually, the grudge you're holding is doing little to help the internal struggle going on in your head. The kiss didn't make you angry, but the realisation that you wanted it to be real, did.

You sigh, rubbing your temples as you slump down in the nearest chair. Franco does the same on the adjacent couch, though his gaze stays carefully on you, almost afraid of what you might say next.

"It's fine, I think we just need to coordinate our PDA a little better then."

"Yes, of course," he nods quickly.

There's a beat of silence. "You're really good at acting though."

"What?"

"That whole story you made up about how you fell in love with me, it was really believable." You laugh lightheartedly trying to lighten the situation and alleviate the awkwardness that's settled between you two.

"Well it's pretty easy, I didn't need to make up much of it," his eyes catch yours and his gaze is soft when he smiles at you.

"What?" you're confused.

"Never mind," he scoffs lightly, his gaze dropping to the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. He looks almost disappointed at something, though you can't realise what. "Well, I'll leave you alone now. I really am sorry about what happened before." You watch as he pushes himself up from the couch, his head hanging guiltily - looking almost like a scolded puppy.

"It's fine Franco, really, please don't feel too bad about it." He nods thankfully before slipping out the door, leaving you alone.

Being a driver, hotel rooms had come to be a companion you knew far too familiarly. Their high ceilings, plush sterile white bedsheets, the empty bathroom - almost everything about them felt a sign of loneliness, of temporality, a house that never felt like home. Even though you knew how ridiculous it would be to complain about something that others would see as a privilege, it was hard to deny the isolation you felt whenever in a new country, away from most of your family or friends.

Maybe that's why you had been so eager to latch onto Franco's idea - it made sense, he had become the person you spent the most time with so why not give yourself some ridiculous reason to be around him even more? However somewhere along the way you stopped needing the reason of fake dating, somewhere in between hushed conversations, planned posts and candid photos - and instead found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. It was a little strange and sometimes acted as a sour reminder of how lonely you'd become but more than anything it felt like a blessing in disguise.

You were reminded of this fact as you lay, wrapped in a plush white hotel robe, across your messy bedsheets - laughing to yourself at the tweets your boyfriend had sent you. They were all about you, or the two of you, of course. Comments on the tiniest things, the way the two of you looked at each other, the way Franco held your hand, the way you worried about him.

"I feel a little bad, they're all so gullible," you typed quickly.

"Oh, so now you feel bad?" His response was almost instant.

"Don't you?"

"It's fun, isn't it? All this playing pretend."

Right, pretend. You rolled onto your back with a deep sigh, staring up at the tall hotel ceiling. All of this was just so confusing - as if figuring out how you felt about someone wasn't difficult enough, the two of you had complicated it by tricking the entire world into thinking you were in love. Whether you truly liked him or not, the idea was doomed for failure - and the more you thought about it, the more it seemed like the former.

"You're right," you typed back, watching intently as the three tiny dots appeared, disappeared then reappeared. What could he be saying that would need so much thinking?

"Can we talk tomorrow, after the race?"

You felt your stomach drop, had he finally caught on to how obvious you were being about how you truly felt, and decided that actually it might be better to just drop this whole act and go on as just teammates? With trembling hands, you typed back.

"Sure, what about?"

"I'll tell you then, for now, we should sleep."

"Goodnight Franco."

"Goodnight mi amor." You laughed softly to yourself at the nickname he had given you, though a small part of you took it as salt to the wound - almost as if he was dangling the possibility of something that could never happen right in front of your desperate little face.

However, not like you had a choice - all you could do now was get ready for bed and brace yourself for whatever tomorrow brought.

You couldn't believe it. The sounds of celebration erupted around you, but you sat completely still in your car, silent, attempting to process what had just happened. Your first win, and, your first double podium, with Franco. Your head was spinning as the never-ending stream of thoughts raced through your mind. Suddenly, you heard a voice coming from above your car's halo, muffled by your helmet. You flick the visor up, lifting your head as highly as you could - locking eyes with your teammate.

"We did it! Oh my god!" The excitement on his face is enough to send a slight surge of energy through you as he offers you his hand, helping you out of the car. When you do though, you stumble a little - the nerves are almost too much for you.

"Woah, you alright?" Even through the fog clouding your mind you can make out the concern in Franco's voice and feel his arms steadying you.

"Yeah, just-" you mumble, gesturing to your helmet and making weak attempts to undo the clasps underneath it. It's almost suffocating you, and the chaos going on around you isn't helping the pounding headache.

"Oh, let me," he reacts immediately, dropping his own helmet and bringing his hands below your chin to swiftly undo the clasps and pull the helmet off of you. You take a deep breath of air as you pull off your fireproof mask, though it sounds more like a desperate gasp.

Around you, the crowds roar with excitement, both your team and others as they make attempts to gesture at the two of you to join them. Your head spins though, and you wobble backwards into Franco.

"It's too loud," is all you can stutter out, though he understands you almost immediately, a strong hand gripping your wrist and pulling you away from the noise and somewhere quieter. You're not entirely sure where he's taking you but at that moment you feel as though you'd follow him just about anywhere.

Luckily though, when your eyes refocus you're in his driver's room, and even though outside you can hear the cheers continuing, you're offered some solace here, the walls muffling the sound. You sigh, sinking into his couch as you throw your head back, panting still.

You feel like it's all just too much - not just the physicality of the race, but the feeling of winning it, winning it with Franco, just Franco himself. When you finally manage to catch your breath you lift your head to see him standing over you, watching intently.

"Better?"

"Much better, thank you." You smile earnestly, "Though I don't think we'll be able to hide in here much longer, there is a cooldown room for this exact reason."

"Oh, I mentioned it to someone, not sure who but he looked important, and he said it would be okay."

You laugh softly, amazed at how he can seem so calm even at a moment like this.

"We did it," you say, still not being able to believe it.

"We did," he smiles, sitting on the couch next to you, "a couples podium."

You feel your heart skip a beat at the sudden reminder of your conversation last night, him mentioning he had something to tell you. Was this it? The two of you had achieved what you had been wanting this entire time, and there was no better time to let this ridiculous bit go than now.

You stare at the wall of his room, the gigantic flag of his home country, and let out a shaky breath, mustering up the courage to break the silence. "So..."

He turns to you, one eyebrow raised in interest.

"What was it you wanted to talk to me about?" You're trying your best to keep your voice lighthearted, "it sounded serious."

"Oh, well about that," he seems to have forgotten it temporarily as well, but the fact that he turns to look at the flag as well, almost unable to maintain eye contact with you, isn't a good sign.

Maybe it's the adrenaline from the race, maybe it's the fact that both of you are going to be needed out on the podium in about ten minutes - or maybe it's the fact that you're so desperate to get out these feelings and make him understand how you feel, but you start talking before you even realise it.

"Look, Franco, I," you start, not entirely sure of where you're going to end up, "I know you asked me to do this whole fake dating thing with you and I completely understand if you want to end it now, I mean why wouldn't we? It's perfect!"

He looks at you confused, lips parted as if about to interrupt you but you continue anyway, stupidly.

"But, look, here's the thing," you turn to him now, and you're sure your face is bright red, "I don't want this to end!"

You let out a deep sigh, and clutch your hands together to stop them from shaking, though it doesn't help that Franco looks even more confused now.

"What?" he says, and your heart drops.

"I," you pause, struggling to find the right words, and struggling to get them out, "I think I like you, like, for real." Okay, not exactly the best choice of words but it'll do.

"Like, not for the whole fake relationship thing?" his tone is still concerned and he leans in a little for clarification.

"Yes! Okay, I know it's not exactly what we thought would happen and it'll probably jeopardise our relationship as teammates but there, I like you okay."

"When did you realise?"

"A couple days ago, I'm sorry."

There's a beat of silence, and you're left with the agonising feeling of your heart racing in your chest, waiting eagerly for his response - for him to laugh in your face, for him to get mad, for him to reject you.

But instead, you watch as Franco's confused expression melts into one of pure relief as he sinks back into the couch with a sigh. "Oh, thank God."

It's your turn to be confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that," he says, eyes fixed on the ceiling with the widest smile you've ever seen.

"Wait you mean you-"

"I win!"

You're absolutely speechless, not a single coherent thought on what is going on or how to respond. All you can get out is a confused sort of grunt.

"I win, I've liked you for longer!" he laughs, sitting up and grabbing your hands in his.

You feel as though your jaw is going to dislocate at how fast it drops, "I'm sorry?"

"Oh c'mon, we've been teammates for a year I know you're not that oblivious."

"Well, apparently I am because I'm really confused."

"I've liked you since the moment I met you, you idiot."

"Wh-" You're about to be offended at the name-calling until what he says finally hits you. He likes you. He has liked you. For ages. You idiot.

"Even when you proposed this to me?"

"Yep."

"Even when we went to get ice cream?"

"Yep."

"Even when you kissed me?"

"Y- well wait no that was completely unintentional," he holds his hands out in defence. You slump back, trying your best to process everything today has entailed, it's almost too much. That is until you feel Franco move a little closer to you, his arm stretching around your shoulders and gently moving your head to lay on his. At that moment, it all becomes clear, and you're suddenly unsure about why you ever felt confused about any of this.

"What now?" You say, barely above a whisper.

"We go and get our trophies," even though you're not looking you can hear the smile in his voice. "Though, before then."

You lift your head up off his shoulder to turn to him with raised brows. "Hm?"

"Now that we aren't fake dating, do the rules still apply?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'd really like to kiss you right now," he whispers, and there's a hint of nerves as you watch his eyes dart in between yours and your lips.

"Really can't wait can you," you tease, though you still move to close the space in between you to. But just before your lips can touch his there's a knock at the door, causing you both to slump back with a sigh.

"Hey, are you two in there?" it's your race mechanic, "you're needed, you know, on the podium."

You roll your eyes to show your obvious disappointment at being interrupted, though Franco just watches you with an endeared smile.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask, not being able to hide your own smile.

"I'm just thinking about how beautiful you're going to look up on that podium, and how I won't have to pretend not to be in love with you anymore."

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(don't ask me why it's formatted so weird, tumblr hates me)

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logansluvr · 2 months ago

Text

TASTE

LOGAN HOWLETT x F!READER

SUMMARY : You won’t admit it, but it stung when you realized you were just a placeholder while Logan waited for Jean AGAIN. Now that she has him, she realizes that no matter how hard she tries there will always be you somewhere on him…Or Jean and Logan both fucked themselves over while you enjoy the aftermath.

WARNING : description of mutant powers (all things nature), angst, more angst, Jean slander (sorry), suggestive content, nothing deeper than a make out, hurt/slight comfort, some Logan slander (ily), Logan has some self reflection time, love triangle??square???

basically I was listening to taste and this sparked in my head and now it won’t leave me alone…

I heard you're back together and if that's true

you'll just have to taste me when he's kissin' you

IN ALL HONESTY SOMEWHERE IN THE BACK OF your mind you knew it was coming. It was nice to indulge in the fantasy though. You indulged in it as an ode to your past self ( you from a year ago ) when you realized that what you thought of Logan was more than a crush. The opportunity presented itself so sinfully you thought it had to be some sort of hallucination.

You couldn’t say no, after all you still had that ode to your past self and deep down you felt…comforted. Comforted in the fact that Logan had thought about you in that way — though that thought diminished soon enough.

At first it was nice, Logan treated you right even if there was something a little off about it. He took you out on occasion, made you laughed, hell he even laughed with you.

There was a point after three months where he began to not mind falling asleep in your bed — even if he acted a little colder the day after it happened.

There were nights when he would be extra tense after a small rescue mission, or after something happened during the day.

He’d take it out on you by burying himself inside of you, biting down on your chest in places clothes covered — other times he’d just bury his head between your thighs taking his time in making you fall apart over and over.

But after nights like those he wouldn’t even look you in the eyes directly. It seemed that only a half a year into your relationship you realized something odd. Certain people in the halls would stare at you with pity, Scott Summers barely looked you in the eyes and even the professor seemed like each word he said to you he was internally wincing.

It was only one night after a particularly rough mission that you had pieced most of it together. Once you were in your room you recalled the high tension between Scott, Jean, and Logan. Most of the time you felt like you a Ororo were missing a big piece of something — especially with the way they’d all go at each other.

You were grateful he had the decency to tell you rather than ignore you, you weren’t even paying attention. Too busy trying to hold back tears — ones you were confused on having.

He muttered something along the lines of you being too young and he just isn’t ready for something like that. You didn’t care, it was a bunch of bullshit. You didn’t need telepathy to know that.

Once he shut the door behind him you had walked to the shower, turned it on, stepped inside with your clothes on, and cried. For a minute you didn’t even realize why you were crying until you had the realization that it was because you felt more for him than you initially let yourself believe.

The days after that everyone sensed the tension, Logan tried to act normal. You however, you just simply brushed him off — he didn’t need to know that he had seriously fucked with your mental. You were going to act normal, act like it didn’t affect you.

It was bad enough the professor looked at you with sympathy the day after your crying session.

On the bright side he fixed your schedule around so you’d see less of Logan.

The week following the breakup you realized he hadn’t even waited that long before he was already crowding Jean — that’s when you realized it wasn’t one big coincidence Scott was meaner at the same time Logan was crowding the Dr.

You had unfortunately turned down the hallway about a week and a half after the breakup, patting a student on the shoulder after they had bombarded you with questions. You were going to meet Scott, his next class in coordination with yours.

But as you glanced at the end of the hall you saw him. Standing next to her, arm on the wall as he smiled down at her. Staring like she was the only thing in the room — you could almost hear the swish of the trees outside, an affect from the anger simmering beneath you.

Thankfully someone stepped out of the classroom you were about to enter. It was one about halfway down the hall, and it seemed to draw both your attention and the attention of couple practically eye fucking at the end of the hallway.

Scott glanced at them, thankful for his sunglasses so they couldn’t see the glare on his face before he turned towards you. Clenching his jaw he walked towards you, handing you the lesson plan he had worked up.

You were far too busy reading over the sheet to notice the gaze burning holes into your back — but Scott wasn’t. And as he glanced over his shoulder he found Logan Howlett staring directly at you.

And a Jean grey staring at him staring at you.

It was only about three weeks after the breakup when something seemed to change. You hadn’t truly been feeling better but you were getting there — busying yourself with other things. Working more on your abilities and working on your training.

You were none the wiser to the situation happening between the two people you’d successfully stopped feeling hatred for. You stopped the avoidance thing about two weeks after the breakup, the mansion was big but not that big.

While it didn’t outwardly bother you that much, other people seemed to notice a tense thing between the couple anytime you were in the vicinity.

There was a day when it seemed like everything went from bad to worse between them. It was a nice day outside and Jean found herself in Logan’s arms, holding onto him whilst his lips pressed against hers.

Her hands were tangling in his hair whilst they swapped whatever DNA they were hoping to swap. And when they pulled away to catch their breath her eyes remained closed, a small furrow in her brow as her tongue ran over her lips.

If someone were to ask her, she’d say she was hallucinating.

Because she could’ve sworn she tasted cherry lipgloss on Logan’s lips — cherry lipgloss she didn’t own.

Yet as her tongue darted out to lick her lips again, it was gone. Her eyes cracking open to find Logan’s gaze over her shoulder, and when she spun around to glance at what had got his attention there you were.

There you always were.

Oblivious to the fact that Logan was watching you. Oblivious to the fact that wherever you showed up he seemed to only look at you the way he used to look at Jean. Oblivious to the fact that all you had to do was enter the same room and all of the sudden his attention was on you.

And it wasn’t on purpose, cause there was a moment where your mental forces had slipped and she probed. And when she dug deeper she only find pure oblivion, it made it all the harder to spite you.

She could ignore if she wanted too, and she tried. For a while. But every-time she kissed him, there was that lingering feeling of tasting cherry lipgloss.

The same cherry lipgloss she watched you apply in a mirror in the hallway.

And she swore your perfume lingered on him even if it had been weeks since you’d been within five feet of him.

Every time you close your eyes

And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine

And every time you breathe his air

Just know I was already there

this was short Ik but I’m currently crying because I had a smut with over 6.k words and HALF OF IT DIDNT SAVE?!??!?

anyways <33 taglist??

496 notes · View notes

hellodropbear · 3 months ago

Text

chosen.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x daughter

isabel is finally adopted

new chapter!!!

as always, hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think (good or bad lol) and anything else you want to see :)

~~~~~~

It was something Isabel had been nagging Mapi about for months. Maybe even longer.

Isabel wasn't stupid anymore, she knew that Mapi had not planned to be her mother. There were other people, and half of her was made of who was supposed to be her father, the man that Mapi spoke so highly of despite getting choked up every time he was brought up in conversation.

She knew they had died right before she was born and she knew that Mapi was left with a baby that she hadn't actually asked for.

Isabel knew Mapi stopped playing football until she was older, taking a long chunk out of what would have likely been the peak of her career.

She knew Ingrid came along later, which is why she had grown up calling her Ingrid.

She didn't call her Mami, she didn't call her Mama. She called her Ingrid which just seemed so wrong.

Because Ingrid was her mother, as much as Mapi.

Mapi had given birth to her, she was a single mother for the first two years probably, until her relationship with Ingrid started getting more serious and both Isabel and Mapi became more and more reliant on the brunette Norwegian that they had fallen in love with so quickly.

Isabel looked like Mapi, and she carried a few of her personality traits around with her. Outgoing, funny, chatty.

But Ingrid also raised her, which meant she carried around the Norwegian's calmness, her kindness and her emotional nature.

She was practically a carbon copy of Mapi on the outside, but anyone who knew her on the inside would say she was the perfect blend of both women.

So how come she only called one of them Mami?

Why was it that if she was seriously injured, only Mapi would be called up?

And Isabel wasn't stupid, she knew that Ingrid wished she had been there from the beginning, that her name was written on all of the important documents. She knew that Ingrid wished she was called Mama.

Not Ingrid.

When she was younger, Isabel would call Ingrid Mama when she was tired or sad, if she wanted a hug or if she was just feeling emotional.

It would be in those tender moments and Ingrid's heart would melt every time. It was always in the apartment, hidden away from the rest of the world and just the three of them there together.

But it never really stuck, and Isabel continued to call her by her first name everywhere else. Her teachers would ask about Mami and they'd ask about Ingrid, her friends would get confused because who is Ingrid?

They all just had a Mami and a Papi.

Ingrid always thought that Mami and Mama would make more sense.

So when Mapi knocked on her bedroom door, an official looking document held securely in her hand, Isabel had a very large suspicion that she knew exactly what was in that plastic slip.

Mapi could tell she knew, the way her eyes lit up and she immediately placed her guitar to the side, sitting up as Mapi moved to sit beside her.

"Is it them?"

Mapi smiled, tears in her eyes.

"Yeah, it is."

"Mami!" Isabel practically jumped on her trying to hug her, tears springing from her eyes as well. "Thank you so much!"

Mapi just shrugged.

"She's your Mama and has been for your whole life, this just makes it official."

"We have to plan something so special! Mami, I can't wait to tell her!"

Mapi laughed softly, planting a kiss on Isabel's head and hugging her in close.

"We'll just have to make sure she says yes! She might not want to be officially related to a little rodent like you."

Isabel laughed, whacking her mother's side in mock offence and rolling her eyes.

They both knew that it wasn't true, that Ingrid loved Isabel more than anything else.

"She loves me more than you, Mami, you're just jealous."

Mapi laughed, silently agreeing.

She would never admit that though.

"You wish."

~~~~~~

Isabel spent every minute of the next two weeks planning what would be the perfect surprise for Ingrid, only requesting advice from Mapi a few times.

It was a photo album that she was creating, filled with just pictures of them as Isabel got older, Mapi only featuring at times that Isabel deemed it absolutely necessary.

Birthdays, christmases, family barbecues, trips to Norway. Summer holidays on the beach.

Skating competitions, Isabel stood there proudly with the gold medal hanging round her neck, a giddy smile on her face as Ingrid had picked her up despite her rapidly growing figure.

She had scrolled through all of Mapi's old photos, printing out the good ones and sticking them in the page with stickers and little notes until it was completely full.

She wrote a letter, enlisting Caro to help her perfect her Norwegian, making her swear to secrecy - the contents of the note were strictly confidential.

She came up with a plan, something she knew Ingrid would love. A walk to their park was nothing worth being suspicious of, not even when the 10 year old pulled out Bagheera’s carrier.

It was a family affair, she told Mapi. It would be mean to leave the cat out of it just because she didn’t usually go on their walks.

It was a nice walk and a nice picnic, planned out to the T by Isabel, down to what colour lined the paper plates and how the fruits on the fruit platter would be cut.

Everything she did was for Ingrid and if the Norwegian had asked her, she would have been able to explain every single decision in a way that related back to how much she loved Ingrid.

Perhaps, for that reason, it was best that the papers were forgotten at home, because Ingrid would have been inconsolable if she saw the papers, the photo album and then was explained every single little decision made by her little girl.

Isabel was disappointed, but Mapi reassured her that the Norwegian would not mind, that her reaction wouldn't change whether she was given those papers on the top of the eiffel tower or in a dump in the middle of the city.

So the 10 year old waited until they got home and finished eating dinner, only heading up to her room to collect the file once Mapi and Ingrid were sat on the sofa, waiting for their child to return and choose something to watch.

She couldn't help the nerves that filled up her stomach, the anxieties that began to attack her as soon as the file was in her shaking hand. She almost felt sick as she walked downstairs, spying the back of Ingrid's head, hearing their voices chatting and laughing.

It took one last push of confidence to walk and stand in front of them, the file held tightly in her hands as she anxiously rocked back and forth on her heels.

She took a deep breath, realising that everything she had planned to say was long forgotten, instead just brandishing the file towards Ingrid, who took it with an air of confusion as she glanced between Isabel and Mapi.

"What's this, Is?"

Isabel cowered under her glance, suddenly full of insecurity and self doubt. Would Ingrid even want to be her mother?

She had spent so much time thinking about how much she wanted Ingrid to be her mother, that she sort of ignored the possibility that the Norwegian didn't want that.

And that would completely break the 10 year old.

"Just open it." Mapi smiled reassuringly at Isabel, noticing her nerves, before looking over at Ingrid who had completely frozen as soon as she read the first few words on the top of the first page.

She immediately broke down in tears, her body racking with sobs as she realised what she had just been given.

~~~~~~

"Isabel Leon! We're going and we're going now!" Ingrid was beyond frustrated, the 8 year old not listening to a word she said. Mapi was out of town for the week so they had been left alone together and the child was experiencing a severe case of 'I miss my mum' and it was materialising as disobedience and ignorance of Ingrid.

"No!" She slammed her door closed for effect, throwing herself on her bed and willing herself not to cry.

"Isabel, this is important and I can't leave you here. We have to go, you can sulk in the car."

The Norwegian was stood right outside the door, her hands massaging her head in frustration at the girl.

"No! I'm not coming."

Ingrid huffed, shoving open the bedroom door and picking the ever-growing child up from her bed.

"Ingrid!" She screeched loudly, almost deafening the brunette. "NO! Put me down, Ingrid, NOW!"

Her words dissolved into sobs as Ingrid continued to carry her until they had exited the apartment, the door locked behind them, Isabel left with no way to get back in.

"I want Mami, Ingrid, I miss Mami!"

She shook her head, using her hand to guide the child into the lift.

"Well Mami's gone, so you're stuck with me for now. You're just going to have to make do."

The child lashed out at the words and the contact, flipping around and facing Ingrid as the elevator doors closed.

"There's a reason you're not my Mami!"

Her vision was blurred by her tears so she couldn't see the hurt that flashed over the woman's face. She only realised later that night that what she said was wrong, that she had been horrible to someone she loved so much for no reason.

And Ingrid would never admit the reason that she was in tears as Mapi called her that night, alone and wrapped up in bed.

As she put down the phone, tears still dripping down her face. It wasn’t often that her insecurities returned, but when they did it was like wildfire, quickly spreading and destroying everything good in it’s path.

Because Isabel was right, Ingrid wasn’t her Mami. She wasn’t her Mama either, she was just Ingrid.

She was Isabel’s Mami’s girlfriend.

But if she asked either of the Spaniard’s, they would assure her that she is so much more than that.

It was with desperation that she tried to wipe her tears away as her bedroom door creaked open, Isabel creeping through the door and silently climbing up onto Mapi’s side of the bed, curling herself up in Ingrid’s side.

The Norwegian didn’t realise she was crying until she heard the sniffle, her shoulders shuddering subtly.

“Is.” Ingrid’s voice was a whisper and Isabel turned around to face her, eyes puffy and her cheeks stained with tears. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, Ingrid.”

She took a deep, shuddery breath and nestled her head into Ingrid’s chest.

“Please don’t leave me and Mami.”

Ingrid frowned, wrapping her arms tighter around the girl.

“Why would you think I was leaving you and your Mami?”

Isabel shrugged, her voice breaking as she replied.

“I said that you’re not my Mami, but you are. I was naughty and you were angry and I don’t want you to leave me, Ingrid, because I love you.”

The Norwegian’s heart broke but she took a deep breath, closing her eyes and responding.

“I will never leave you and your Mami. Never ever worry about that because I will always be here. And you were just upset today, you missed Mami and you were angry and sad and said stuff to me that you didn’t mean but it’s ok, Is, because you know it was naughty and you’ve apologised. But please, never ever worry about me leaving. I love you way too much to not see you every single day.”

~~~~~~

“Where is Ingrid, Mami?”

She had woken up confused, her head sore and her arm in a cast.

All she could remember was dragging Pina and Patri to the skatepark, showing off her new tricks. They were impressive, for a 9 year old and Mapi worried every day about her little girl flying around the skatepark with little to no concern about her own safety.

When Pina and Patri had offered to babysit, she specifically told them that if they went to the skatepark, Isabel had to wear all the protective equipment that Mapi had purchased.

Which she did, the two women making sure everything was on tight, equally as nervous as Mapi tended to be whenever she had to accompany Isabel to the skatepark.

But whenever Pina or Patri turned their back, she would discreetly shed another protective item, embarrassed and humiliated in front of all the local skaters who wore nothing but their normal clothes and a helmet.

They noticed, of course they did, but Isabel was too quick on her board for them to catch her and put them back on.

“Pequena!” Patri had yelled, her voice stressed and somewhat angry. “Come back here right now and put this all back on!”

It was rare Patri yelled at her, so the harsh words came as a shock to Isabel, who tried to pull off a spin at the top of the bowl so she could turn around.

Except it was a trick she hadn’t quite mastered yet, and instead of landing it on two feet, she plummeted to the base of the bowl with a sickening crunch, immediately bursting into tears.

Pina swore as Patri jumped down to her, scooping her up in her arms and giving her a quick once over.

Her heart sank when she saw the wonky arm. Broken, easily.

Pina grabbed the board and followed quickly, jumping into the drivers seat as Patri carefully slid into the back, nursing Isabel’s arm as the 9 year old sobbed in pain.

“Please, Patri!” She had sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t tell Mami, she will be so mad at me.”

Patri sighed quietly, knowing that Mapi’s anger would be directed entirely at Pina and herself.

She didn’t tell Isabel that, instead kissing her head and soothing her, whispering quiet Spanish in her ear until her cries weakened and she fell asleep.

The doctors in the hospital had confirmed the broken arm, as well as a very minor concussion that required monitoring for 24 hours.

But she woke up, her mother’s familiar tattooed hand resting on her leg, her eyes full of worry and stress as she stared down at her daughter.

Ingrid, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

Mapi had been so caught up in her daughter’s injuries that she hadn’t even considered where Ingrid was having not seen her since that very morning.

“I’m so glad you’re ok, my lion cub.”

The discipline about her gear would come later. Even if Patri and Pina had disregarded it, she had told Isabel time and time again about it’s importance. Today, unfortunately, Mapi had been proven right.

She had yelled that to the two younger Spaniards as they waited in the hallway, sending them home with their heads bowed and tears in their eyes.

For some reason, they didn’t tell her that they had been extra careful all day, Isabel only getting hurt after they had told her to come back to replace all her knee pads. Mapi was so angry, which they had understood.

They were just upset because she had told them they would never see the little girl again, mapi couldn’t trust two people so irresponsible.

It was dramatic, of course, but Pina and Patri had never seen Mapi so angry before.

“Where’s Ingrid?”

Mapi sighed quietly, stroking Isabel’s hair back.

“I’ll call Ingrid, she can come in.”

She did just that, easily dialling the Norwegian on her phone, only having to wait through two rings before she picked up.

“Is has been asking for you, Ingrid, do you want to come over to the hospital?”

Mapi hadn’t really known where Ingrid was, but her concern about why her girlfriend wasn’t there was sort of pushed to the side as she worried about her daughter’s wellbeing.

She didn’t expect Ingrid to sound so frustrated, so upset.

“I’ve been here this whole time, Mapi! They won’t let me up because I’m not on her documents. You’re her mother, not me.”

The Spaniard’s heart dropped, immediately filling with guilt.

“I’ll be right there.”

She was practically flying down the stairs, grabbing Ingrid by the arm and pulling her into the lift.

“I’m sorry, Ingrid. I’m so sorry.”

It was hard for the Spaniard to keep her tears at bay, the emotions of her day catching up with her. But Ingrid broke down in her arms, silently crying.

“She’s my kid too, Mapi. She’s my kid too.”

Isabel didn’t know why both Ingrid and Mapi were crying when they entered her room again, but she did finally feel at ease with them both on either side of her, swiftly falling asleep as their hands rested on her smaller form.

~~~~~~

Her first day of school had gone well. Better than well, really, she had loved everything about it.

Her teacher, her friends, the food, her new pencil case and backpack.

Everything had been perfect. It was still perfect as she spied her mother standing by the gate, Baloo’s leash in her hand as the young golden retriever stood steady by her side.

“Mamiii!”

Her backpack was dropped on the floor as she raced towards Mapi, throwing herself into her open arms and sighing contentedly as she was picked up, her head fitting easily on Mapi’s shoulders.

“Oh hello there!”

Mapi smiled, walking over to the abandoned school bag and skillfully bending down to pick it up with one hand, her daughter and the dog’s leash being held securely in the other.

“How was your day, Is?”

Her question caused the girl to burst into excited chatter, eating Mapi’s ear off with her words as she recounted every possible story from the moment she was dropped off the the moment she was reunited, her words so quick that she was all finished by the time they arrived back to the apartment.

“I made a friend, Mami!”

She skipped beside her mother as they walked towards the lift, a grin settled on her face.

Mapi was impressed, but not remotely surprised. It seemed that her daughter had inherited her own chattiness and confidence, but she was also an inherently happy kid who practically radiated sunshine.

Mapi never had to worry about the girl making friends.

So she listened as Isabel told her all about her new friend Sofie, about how she wasn’t even from Spain.

“She’s from the same place as Esmee, Mami!”

Dutch, Mapi thought. She wondered what a Dutch family was doing in Barcelona.

She continued to talk about Sofie’s older brother, her mother and father. Her grandparents and her cousins.

But a small frown settled upon her face, as she looked up at Mapi with an inquisitive gaze.

“I told her that I have a Mami, but no Papi. She asked who else looks after me because her Mami needs her Papi’s help all the time, so I told her I have an Ingrid, but she didn’t really get it. Because Ingrid isn’t a Papi.”

Mapi sighed, unclipping Baloo from his leash and moving to unpack Isabel’s backpack.

“Come up here, Is.” She patted the kitchen bench in front of her and the girl raced over, pulling herself up onto the bench with a practised ease.

“You don’t have a Papi, no. But you have a Mami, don’t you?” Isabel nodded her head eagerly, wriggling slightly in her spot. “And who else do you have?”

“I have an Ingrid!”

Mapi nodded, but gave her a look that prompted her to continue.

“And an Ale, a Frido, Esmee! Pina, Patri. Leila, even though she lives all the way in England.”

“Who else?”

“Abuela and Abuelo! And tio and tia!”

Mapi nodded proudly, placing her hands on Isabel’s shoulders.

“You don’t have a Papi, Is, but you do have so many people here that love you, Ingrid more than anyone. We can’t even remember life without Ingrid, can we?”

Isabel shook her head, frowning.

“I miss her when she’s away.”

“So do I.”

It was true, the house always seemed so much more quiet whenever the Norwegian had to return to Norway, even though she made by far the least noise out of all of them. She was a popular presence and one that made life so much more enjoyable for the two of them.

Of course on the other side, Ingrid missed them equally as much and she was absolutely devastated that her national team duties were pulling her away from Isabel as she started school, one of the biggest days yet in her short life.

But she had missed yet another milestone, just as she was cementing her place as a mother in Isabel’s life.

“But Is, she’s your Mami too. You know this, she’s Mama.”

Isabel nodded.

“I don’t think Sofie knew that it was ok to have no Papi because she looked sad when I told her.”

“Well, tomorrow you can tell Sofie that you’re ok! You don’t need a Papi because you have a Mama instead. Tell Sofie that families always look different but that doesn’t mean we love each other any less.”

She grinned, her head bobbing up and down happily.

“I love you Mami!”

Mapi smiled, reciprocating her words without hesitation.

“Do you want to call Ingrid and tell her the same thing?”

“Let’s call Mama!”

Mapi smiled with pride, scooping Isabel up in her arms and walking them over to the sofa as she dialled Ingrid.

And that is where they sat for the next couple of hours, on the phone to their Ingrid, cuddled up in each others arms.

It was Mapi’s favourite place, only made better when the Norwegian was right there too, her soft skin providing that extra love and warmth that both Spaniards desired so deeply.

Ingrid was family now. Irreplaceable and incomparable.

But if you asked Mapi, she would say that Ingrid had been family from the moment she first held Isabel in her arms.

~~~~~~

Isabel watched as Ingrid broke down, tears streaming down her face and landing with big splats on her legs.

The Norwegian was always going to be emotional, that was expected. Both Spaniards knew how insecure she was about her place in Isabel’s life, her role in this family. The insecurities were thick, stubborn. They never went away, despite how much Isabel and Mapi tried to cut them out, to push them away.

The truth was enough for them to withstand any pushing that the mother daughter duo attempted, the facts were all there.

Mapi was Isabel’s mother, she was the one on the documents, the one who was called if anything happened. She was allowed in Isabel’s hospital room when she got sick and she was the one that Isabel called Mami.

Ingrid knew she was important, she knew she was loved.

But she had always been Ingrid, excluding those few treasured times where Isabel had tiredly reached out for Mama. She found everything out through Mapi, she wasn’t even on the email list for her school.

But these documents changed everything.

For Ingrid, they changed everything.

For Isabel and Mapi they changed nothing at all.

Ingrid’s tears were expected, they were justified. But all she needed to do was look up at Isabel for her to run into her arms, almost toppling her over from her seated position on the sofa with the shear force of her body ramming into Ingrid’s, her arms easily wrapping around her.

The Norwegian reciprocated the hug, her tears saturating the shoulder of Isabel’s shirt.

“Do you want to be my Mama?”

Ingrid’s sobs became more audible as she tried to respond, words failing her as she nodded. The tears continued, Baloo looking up in confusion as the Norwegian cried, as Mapi did nothing to console her, instead watching on with a wet smile, tears dripping down her face.

She was grateful to Ingrid because without her, life would be completely different. Without Ingrid, she would likely be a single mother. She and Isabel would live alone, Bagheera there too but Baloo wouldn’t have been an option if there wasn’t another adult there.

Ingrid was the first time Mapi ever felt true love, the first time she ever felt like she was loved completely and romantically. The Norwegian made her happy, she made Isabel happy too.

She had changed their lives for the better.

Mapi would never be able to thank her enough.

She watched as Ingrid’s cries softened, as she leant back and grabbed Isabel’s shoulders, looking at her straight in the eyes.

“I would love nothing more, Isabel.”

It wasn’t long before Isabel disappeared, racing up to her room to grab her gift. As she left, Mapi easily retook her spot beside the Norwegian, kissing away the tears that still fell from her eyes.

“You didn’t have to do this, Maria. I can’t believe it.”

The brunette just shrugged.

“This is what’s right. You’ve raised her with me, you’re her mother, Ingrid. I didn’t think it was necessary for such a long time but last year at the hospital… it’s important to me that you know it only took me so long because it won’t change anything for me. You have always been her mother, ever since you walked into my life.”

Ingrid nodded, ready to reply before she heard the feet thundering back down the stairs, telling Mapi that they would have this conversation later.

Shyly, Isabel handed over a neatly folded piece of paper and the photo book, sitting down on the other side of Ingrid as they flipped through it.

It was how they spent the rest of the night, snuggled up together on the sofa, lots of tears shed as they flipped through the book of photos.

Isabel fell asleep once they were done, the TV turned on as all three of them were emotionally exhausted, eyes puffy and faces red. Ingrid could only smile, her hand tangling up in Isabel’s head of hair as she slept peacefully on her mother’s lap.

“My daughter. She’s my daughter, Maria.”

~~~~~~

It was a week of happiness in the Engen-Leon household, the Norwegian radiating positivity as she adjusted to her new role in Isabel’s life.

Nothing changed, really, except for Ingrid’s security.

It wasn’t even something you could see from the outside, but Mapi knew her well enough to understand how much happier she was, like she had finally been relieved from a weight that she’d been carrying around for so long. It was a relief for all of them.

The letter that Isabel wrote, however, had been left unread on her bedside table.

It was in Norwegian, that much she knew. Apparently, the 10 year old had called up Caro to ask for some help with the language, making sure it was perfect before she gave it to her mother.

It was a bit more than a week later, her and Mapi laying in bed one evening, Isabel fast asleep in her room down the hall. The Spaniard was scrolling through her phone, her spare hand lazily carding through Ingrid’s thick locks.

The Norwegian was holding that folded piece of paper, staring at it like it held the secrets to the world.

“Just open it.”

Mapi chuckled as soon as she store what her Norwegian was looking at, the familiar lined paper forever etched into her brain after such a big deal had been made about it.

“It’s in Norwegian!” Ingrid smiled, looking over at Mapi. “Caro said I should prepare my tissues, Maria!”

“You would have cried if she said ‘I hate you Ingrid I wish you weren’t my Mama’ if it was written in Norwegian.”

Ingrid rolled her eyes at Mapi chuckled at her own joke, her phone dropping into her lap.

“It won’t say that though. It will probably be heart wrenching because our girl is smart and has a unique way with words.”

Ingrid flopped backwards onto her pillow, sighing dramatically.

“I’m going to be sobbing, Mapi.”

The Spaniard could only shrug.

“Probably.”

It took a few more sighs and a couple more minutes for her to open the letter, unfolding the piece of paper at a painfully slow speed, Mapi just rolling her eyes at Ingrid’s dramatics.

But the brunette’s eyes glazed over as soon as she saw the first line, neat Norwegian printed onto the page.

Dear Mama.

And so the waterworks began.

I haven’t called you Mama my whole life, but I don’t really know why. You’re my Mama, you always have been. When I talk to my friends, I’ll call you Ingrid, but I will always question why, I’ll question why I call you that.

I know that Mami was the one who had me, that she didn’t mean to have me and was only left with me because the people who I was named after, Isabel and Luis, died.

She always tells me not to say that she was left with me because it makes it sound like she didn’t want me, which isn’t true.

But Mami never had the choice, even if she didn’t want me. She was left with me, a baby. I would have been a lot of work. But she loves me and I love her so it worked and I don’t have any memories of being sad.

I don’t have any memories of that time at all, really. No memories of anything that happened before you came.

You had the choice, Mama. You didn’t have to choose to be my Mama. You love Mami and she loves you of course, but she had a baby. You didn’t have to take me into your arms and immediately love me as much as you do.

You could have chosen that you wanted nothing to do with me, you could have chosen to just be Mami’s girlfriend - a step mother who doesn’t really love her step-daughter.

But you didn’t choose that. You chose to love me and I chose to love you.

Somehow, it seems so much more special that way.

You’ve been there for me my whole life. You took me to Norway with you, the first time I left the country without Mami. You would look after me when she was sad, take me to the park and distract me with toys and Baloo. You were the one who convinced Mami to let me on a skateboard and you were the one who realised that I didn’t like football, taking the pressure off me to succeed at the sport you both love.

You have been to every school awards night, concert, play. You are always there and I always spot you because you always have such a big smile on your face, one that I like to think is reserved just for me and Mami.

And I love you so much. You make me so happy and you always have.

I can’t believe how lucky I am that you chose to love me like you do.

Lots of love,

Your daughter Is.

The tears that had been pouring down her face were hitting her legs as she finished reading, Mapi’s arms pulling her close as she carefully folded the paper back up, putting it in the top drawer of her nightstand.

“My daughter Is.” She whispered softly and if Mapi wasn’t right in her space, she wouldn’t have been able to hear.

“Your daughter Is.” She confirmed, using her finger to gently wipe away her tears. “She loves you so much.”

Ingrid could only nod, words once again failing her.

“We both love you so very much. We are both so grateful for you and everything you do to make our lives so much better.”

“I love you too, Maria.”

~~~~~~

hope you enjoyed! please let me know what you thought and send in anything you want to see :)

have a good day!

#mapi leon #ingrid engen #mapi leon x ingrid engen #mapi leon x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #ingrid engen x reader

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calypsocolada · 5 months ago

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RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME | g. tomioka

(this is part two! click here for part one)

synopsis: you left without saying goodbye, giyu needs to know why... author's note: hellllooooo. the reaction to part one of this story was incredible. i cannot thank any of you enough for your kind words seriously. this one is for all of you <3 (psst... to all the swifites, if you can point out two other song references besides rwylm you get a gold star) cw: ANGST (lol like there wasn't enough in the first part), blood, gore, spoilers about rengoku, HAPPY ENDING, not proofread wc: 4.2k

click here for my masterlist

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There was nothing more frustrating than lack of communication. As much as he wished he could read your mind, as much as he begged and pleaded to deaf ears you were just one hard shell to fully crack open. Though Giyu supposed he was probably the same. But at least he was making an effort. He thought you’d make one too.

But as Giyu sat cross legged at a Hashira meeting he could meet all their eyes but yours. You didn’t spare him a glance like you spared him your time those few weeks ago. Almost a month and a half now and for some reason Giyu couldn’t stop counting the days, the hours and minutes.

45 days since you knocked at his door.

1,080 hours since you grabbed him, your cheeks wet as you pressed your lips to his.

64,800 minutes since Giyu woke up in the morning to an empty bed.

It never got easier. Each day was like this stabbing pain in his chest. A persistent feeling of desertion. He’d thought things had changed since that night. The night you cried and cried and kissed and kissed.

He wrote you letter after letter but no response. Now here you were in the same room, in a room filled with others but Giyu only felt your presence. Like a heightened sense that haunted him so stunningly that he wondered if your lack of attention would actually kill him. As if he overdosed on it once and now he’d never be able to wean himself off you.

You were so close, only maybe three feet from him but you felt worlds away. Could he have done something wrong? Showed too many of his cards too soon? Scared you off? Sure you reciprocated his kisses, in fact you were the initiator. But when it came to a verbal confession there was nothing for Giyu to latch onto. No words, just your actions. But your actions betrayed you. You treated him as if that night never even happened. For 45 days. It was like torture. To want something so badly, to have it for a fleeting moment then lose it. Giyu was losing it.

“Mr. Tomioka?” Your voice was like a shot of ice through his veins. Giyu blinked the fogginess from his brain and cleared his throat. Your attention was on him. The room is empty. Giyu hadn’t noticed the meeting had ended. Didn’t notice everyone leaving.

“Hmm?” He forced out, his eyes sliding to yours. Mr. Tomioka? Even before everything you called him Giyu. But now… you addressed him as though he was some stranger. A room alone, a room with you. He could say what was on his mind finally.

“Did you pay attention in the meeting?” You asked. Giyu stared at you. You were looking at him. After 45 days of starving for your attention he found himself unable to act normally with it on him now.

“Hmm…? Oh! Uh— yes…” Giyu stuttered out, feeling hopelessly useless. Feeling utterly ridiculous.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said coldly, turning to leave.

“Wait-“ Giyu stepped forwards. Tomorrow? What was tomorrow? A talk? An explanation for your icy treatment? You turned, threw him a look over your shoulder. It was like you read his confusion. As if you knew he paid zero attention in the meeting.

“The training grounds near your house. We’ll meet at sunrise.” You said and then your eyes lingered a second before you turned and left. Giyu found himself stuck still even a couple minutes after you left. Like his legs had forgotten their purpose. In fact, those 45 days he’d been right where you left him. A hopeless, nearly broken man. Stuck back in the time he had you. Haunting his house and his training grounds and everywhere he stood. You seemed to have moved on, seemed to maybe have even forgotten about the fleeting moment. Was that all it was to you? A fleeting moment? Maybe even a severe lapse of judgment? Something like that couldn’t have been a declaration of love. Giyu could and had been thinking himself in circles. He wished he said more. Wished he said less. Ran through everything over and over. Replayed it so often the record was starting to skip.

Giyu tossed and turned all night. He didn’t sleep even a wink. You wanted to talk. Maybe explain things. Giyu knew whatever it was that kept you so far from him he was willing to work through to find a solution. He was willing to crumble your walls. Or wait. If you’d just verbally ask him to wait he’d pause his life forever for you. He’d become a ghost. Time could come and go on for everybody else but he’d wait diligently for you. He’d wait like the moon and chase after you like the sun. If only you’d just give him a damn reason.

Giyu turned, the moon shining through a crack in his curtains. His eyes drifted to the empty spaces beside him. The same space he’d left empty since you vacated it. With splayed fingers he touched the spot of his bed and willed himself to remember that night. As if he’d ever forget it in the first place. He was restless so he moved out of bed and to his desk. He pulled out a few letters. Some from Rengoku and some from Kagaya. Both with the same topic. Giyus favorite topic. You.

Giyu carefully slid open the first letter he ever received from Rengoku. He felt a pang just merely looking at the older man’s handwriting. All jagged and loud. He smiled as he reread its contents.

Good morning Mr. Tomioka!

I was shocked to see you had written to me but pleasantly surprised! I am doing well, how’re you? I heard you are well on your way to becoming the next water hashira! How exciting! I know we’ve only met a few times but you have the demeanor of a water hashira. You seem cool and collected! You have a calm voice and although it’s hard to hear you sometimes I still appreciated our talks! About your interest in my tsuguko; she is doing well. She is very fiery. I could see her becoming the next fire Hashira. She sort of reminds me of you in the way she speaks. Though sometimes I can get her to raise her voice and it’s quite adorable. It would be lovely if you visited her. I’m sure she’d love to see you again after you saved her life. But if you’re too busy that is fine, I can always just write you with updates about her. Maybe I can even try and get her to write you a letter sometime! Anyways, Mr. Tomioka, hope this letter finds you well!

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

Giyu laughed at the ink splotch on the paper next to Rengoku’s name. It was a common theme in his letters. Probably wrote sort of hard. Giyu carefully closed the letter and opened the last letter Rengoku ever wrote.

Good morning Mr. Tomioka!

Congratulations on becoming the water Hashira! The other hashira’s seemed sort of bummed you weren’t able to make it to the little celebration but I knew that kind of thing just isn’t your style so I decided to write you this letter instead. I knew you had a fiery streak somewhere in you! We all do! I have a mission coming up and saw that you have one too! I would like for you to let my tsuguko accompany you on your mission! I think she could use a bit of quiet in her life. She’s always go go go! Just like me! But I think you two could get along very very well, Mr. Tomioka! I think she thinks of you fondly. I once asked her about the boy who saved her and I am pretty sure she blushed! Ha-ha! Don’t be disheartened by her cold attitude, as long as she doesn’t verbally attack you that means you might be in her good graces! She’s come a long way, I see sparks of softness in her that I hope you’ll appreciate. She loves miso soup and sweet potatoes, she gets it from me! She loves to read and can’t get enough of the ocean so be sure after your mission to take her swimming. It could be a date! You think I don’t know why you often write asking me about her, right? I’ll pretend I don’t! She’s not much of a talker like you but she listens and remembers everything you say. That mind’s like a steel trap! Please take care of her and I’ll tell her to play nice though I’m not sure she knows how to! Ha-ha! Only kidding. Be safe, Mr. Tomioka and good luck on your first mission as a Hashira!

With regards, Kyojuro Rengoku

Giyu still blushes as he reads the letter. Rengoku knew Giyu’s intentions even though he was sure he was being discreet. He carefully folded the letter back up and as he did a hint of the rising sun peaked its way through his curtains. He sprung up from his seat. He couldn’t be late in meeting with you so he hurriedly got dressed and tumbled his way out of his home. He rounded the corner to the training field and stopped dead in his tracks.

You were there.

You were actually there.

Your sword clutched tightly in your hand as you swung it to and fro, practicing against a ghostly opponent. Giyu watched you. He blinked for a moment and saw Rengoku, in the way you swung your sword, the way you moved, the way your haori flew behind you, like flames licking the air. Rengoku taught you everything you knew and you applied his fighting style with grace and ease. Giyu honestly had never seen you in a battle. And his breath halted as he watched the confidence in your demeanor. Watched the sure way you’d swing, the velocity and speed. The preciseness. You were definitely Rengoku’s tsuguko. In fact, maybe you were even more than that. Almost like his shadow, his predecessor. And you held that title with grace. Giyu almost felt choked up knowing damn well Rengoku was more than proud of you.

“Just gonna stand there all day?” You asked, your swing coming through to slice clean through a practice dummy. One half falling to the dirt, kicking up dust. Giyu found himself unable to speak once again as you turned. That attention too much to bear. You hiked up your brow and pointed your sword in his direction. “Well, are you ready to spar?”

“Spar?” Giyu echoed as you nodded your head, walking like a predator towards him.

“Where’s your sword?”

“That’s why you’re here?”

“Why else would I be?” You asked, eyes daring him to mention things you clearly wanted to forget. Giyu blinked through the breaking of his heart. He’d never felt pain like this. Never knew someone could ignite such warmth then douse it in icy cold water. He never thought you of all people would stab him clean through. Giyu turned just as his emotions were too much to hide. He walked and grabbed his sword, waited a moment to try and gather his composure before returning back a few feet from you.

There was something in your eyes. He knew this sight was probably the last thing every single demon that had crossed you had seen for themselves. Eyes like fire, you morphed in front of his eyes into the flames that danced with your techniques.

You took the first swing, your movement like the flickering. Your strikes felt hot, as if his skin would sear completely off. Giyu controlled his feelings, he pushed them to the side and met your violence of fire with the calmness of water. Metal clanged, and although you’d killed him moments ago with your words you brought him straight back to life with the way you fought. You’d found yet another thing for him to fall in love with.

Damn you.

After several minutes passed and one final swing you both stepped back. It was clear it was a draw. Not a single time did someone pull ahead and leave the other in the dust. Each strike was met with an equal block. You two were an equal match. For a moment you two just stared at each other, dripping in sweat, the sun and heat finally rising. You reached up and wiped your forehead with the back of your arm and sighed.

“So it’s a draw.” You said and Giyu nodded his head. A silent moment passed before you pulled your eyes from his and walked to your stuff. Giyu watched. Watched you pack up your things and give a halfhearted wave to him as you walked back towards the road.

“That’s it?” Giyu called out suddenly. He swore he saw you flinch.

“Either Obanai or Shinazugawa will be here tomorrow for the same match.” You called over your shoulder. The cold shoulder you’d given him for so long. 46 days now.

“That’s not what I meant.” Giyu took a step but you resumed walking. “What did I do?”

“Have a good day, Mr. Tomioka.” You said and the moment you were out of sight Giyu tore off after you.

46 days ago you’d been laying next to Giyu Tomioka. You’d woke up early and in the morning light you could see his face again. He looked at peace as he slept beside you, his arms around you, his breathing light. You reached across the small expanse between you two and tucked his raven black hair out of his face. Giyu moved barely in his sleep and you yanked your hand away, shy as though he’d catch you admiring him. As though you hadn’t just spent the night together. Once he settled you gazed at him. Something, you knew what it was now, bloomed in your chest. Was this something you could truly have? To kill demons and go home to someone like him at the end of the day? Home… what would that even be like? What would that even look like for you? Slowly you sat up in his bed, covers falling from your shoulders, pooling at your torso.

Everyone you had ever loved died horribly. You felt as though a curse was placed upon you. Penance for the deaths of your family.

Ever since Rengoku had died there was this thought that haunted you. A sort of prophecy you felt had cursed your very being. No matter how many times you thought about leaving Rengoku there was no way to ever go back and board that train with him. No way to deny his request and maybe even save his life. Would you have been useful or would you have been a hindrance? Would your presence have even changed a thing or were you just destined to love and lose? Your eyes flicked to Giyu, face barely illuminated by the sun rising.

If you stayed in this bed would you watch him die as well? Just the thought made you physically sick to the stomach. You felt like a kid stuffed into a hiding place all over again. A helpless, useless kid.

If you let yourself love him and be with him, the pain of losing him might actually do you in for good. And if you left right now… would that save his life from the curse placed upon you?

Turns out you're quite self sabotaging after all. And by morning you slipped out of his house, tearing back towards the inn, running with your tail between your legs.

“Do I not deserve an explanation?” Giyu called out to you, you'd almost made it to the end of his house. You paused, turning.

“Leave it.” You answered lethargically.

“Did you even read my letters?”

“What letters?” You asked and when your eyes found his face the utter pain on it made your stomach drop.

“I wrote to you… many times. Your crow should’ve delivered it to you.” Giyu explained, his face utterly disheartened. You glanced at your crow, who’d been curiously pecking at some bugs in the distance.

“I never received them.” You answered and clenched your jaw. You deserved to see him hurt. The pain you caused him was something you wouldn’t let yourself look away from this time. Giyu haori swayed slightly in the wind, he couldn’t meet your eyes.

“Tell me what to do.” Giyu says and you blink at him, your brows furrowing.

“What?”

“I’ll wait. I’ll let dust collect over my life until you wish to have me back.”

“I don't want that.” You said with a start. You clench your jaw, forcing yourself back into some composure. “I want you… to… go on ahead.” Slowly Giyu raises his eyes to meet yours.

“What do you mean?”

“I could never feel the same way you feel for me. So I want you to move on.” You said and kept your eyes glued to him as you said it. You didn’t let one smallest ounce of pain show on your face.

“Why?”

“Because I’m not worth dying over.”

“I’m not worth dying over, Master!” You screamed, pain coursing through you. You watched Rengoku surpass his limits, a demon pushing him far past them. The same demon that had gotten the jump on you moments ago. The man couldn’t hear you. You stumbled forwards, blood dripping from a wound somewhere on your head, the blood getting in your eyes. You stumbled, losing your footing, your sword clattering against the stones out of your grip. “Rengoku, please! Run while you still can!” You screamed, coughing up blood as you crawled towards the fight. Your breathing labored, black ink splotched in your vision. Take me! You thought hopelessly, take me and not him!

“Y/n? Come on, kid, wake up.” You blinked awake. Your entire body ached, drowsiness threatening to take hold of you. Where were you just now? You must’ve passed out from the pain. “Ah, there she is.” A blurry redness kneeled beside you as you blinked until you could see properly. “You’re awake.”

“Master?” You coughed as Rengoku smiled down at you.

“Tough battle, huh? You did great out there kid.” Rengoku said proudly. “You mastered a few of those moves I taught you, it was incredible.” He recounts.

“I-- lost.”

“Hush now. That demon was even tough for me to kill. You did the best you could.” He says reaching for you, ruffling your hair.

“Y-you almost died,” You choked out, Rengoku’s hand paused on your head. “I-- Master I don’t ever want to be a burden to you.”

“You are no such thing.” Rengoku admonishes, giving your cheek a sharp and playfully pinch. You gasp in surprise, rubbing your cheek. “You think too dark sometimes, kid.”

“But-- Master… I’m not worth dying over.” You say, looking down. Rengoku grabs you by the chin.

“You don’t get to decide that. I do. And I decided that you’re worth saving.” He looks at you intensely to get his point across. You part your lips to argue but slowly close them. “Now enough of this, we won, let’s celebrate!”

“What do you mean?” Giyu walks closer to you, his voice has an edge to it. A worried and sharp edge. “Are you unsafe?”

“That’s not…” You trail off, unsure how to put your thoughts into words. “I’m giving you an out.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Mr. Tomioka-”

“Don’t. Please don’t call me that.” Giyu lamented, his expression pained.

“You’d be wise to just move on.”

“I can’t. I won’t”

“You can, you should.” You growled. This reminded you so heavily of the night you stormed out of his house and you two fought in the road. You were pretty sure this was almost the exact same place. You gave an inch that night but you were trying desperately to take it back. No matter how much this hurt it would hurt even more if your curse killed him. You had to remind yourself of that. Of the thing that possessed your life.

“Give me a reason.”

“My past should be reason enough for you.”

“What do you mean? Speak it plainly for me.”

“It’s obvious. I’m fucking cursed, Giyu!” You hadn’t expected it but ever since that night you cried you couldn’t stop. Every little thing made you cry now it was annoying. You cried when you left Giyu in the morning. Cried in your inn. Cried when you arrived back at your empty house, the taste of miso soup and potatoes wrecking your senses. Years and years of it being stored up and the dam broke. You felt like a little kid but there was no way around it. Maybe if you tried being truthful Giyu would leave. “I hid while my family died and because of it I’m cursed. I thought I could move on. Rengoku was like family to me. I let him in. I trusted him. I loved him. I let my guard down and my curse took him. And I-- I won’t let it take you okay so just do me this favor and let whatever you feel for me die.” You forced your eyes to his. Angrily wiped the tears from off your face and looked at him intensely. “I am begging you.” Giyu looked at you, his eyes scanning your face. He walked and walked forwards until he was directly in front of you. His hands reached out, ever so gently sliding over either side of your jaw, his thumbs wiping the tears from your face. Deja vu gripped you so intensely. He’d done this same thing before. He leaned close, so close your breath hitched in anticipation of a kiss. But he stopped, mere centimeters away.

“You are not cursed.” He lets his words sink in. His eyes staring ardently into yours. Your breathing stopped, like you’d forgotten how. That dangerous beat of your heart started up again. There’s something to be said about someone that will tear themselves apart just to keep away from the one thing that could make them happy. You were the biggest component of that. It was like you craved hurting yourself. Craved punishment for crimes you never committed. Giyu pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You didn’t kill your parents and you have to stop blaming yourself for it.” His whispers as you pull back slightly, looking as though you’d been slapped. He knew it. Giyu knew you. You looked away but he forced your attention back to him. “They saved you because they loved you. You were a child. There’s no sin in that.” He presses another kiss to your face. You should back up. You needed to back up. You… you couldn’t. Giyu’s arms slide around you and you're pulled against his chest in a tight hug. “Rengoku didn’t die because he loved you, he died saving a world that had you in it.” There were the damn tears again. You closed your eyes as they sting you. “You don’t get to choose who loves you and it’s unfair to make decisions for them.”

Rengoku’s words rang in your head.

You don’t get to decide that.

“I… I won’t make it if I lose you.”

“Don’t say that. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, look at me.” Giyu pulls back, you tilt your face up, eyes meeting his. “If you don’t want to lose me then fight for me, stop running, I’m begging you.” You looked up at him. There was no point in trying to build walls, not when Giyu always knew a way around them. You spent a long time in your own head. For once… you decided to let someone else make the calls. If even your most self destructive ways didn’t scare him off then it’s obvious that no matter what you did you couldn’t scare him off.

“Alright.” You intoned softly. The utter hope on Giyu’s face was quick to show. “I’ll stop running.”

“Promise me this time. Promise I won’t wake up and you're gone.”

“I’m sorry. You deserved better.” You breathed out, guilty.

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” He says fondly. You shake your head, eyes rolling.

“You forgive too easily.” Giyu kissed you then. No warning. Just pure want. It was the kiss of someone who’d been counting the seconds you’d been gone. Sickly sweet. Of course he’d forgive you quickly. When he pulled back he pressed his forehead to yours. “Give me your word. That you’ll give us a try.”

“I promise.” You say without hesitation.

Giyu kissed you again, this time slowly, passionately. He tangled his hands in your hair and you melted. He was going to be the death of you. Though you supposed you shouldn’t think that way. You could settle on him being your near death experience then.

When the morning dawned and Giyu opened his eyes for a moment his bed felt empty. He rolled his head to the side and when his eyes fell upon you there was nothing in this world that could’ve been a better sight. He reached and softly tucked your hair out of your face. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and let his eyes fall back closed, knowing damn well when he woke up again you’d be beside him.

bonus: giyu's letters

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write to only beg for a moment of your time. If you regret what happened days ago then don't spare me your kindness. I long to know what you think. What you really think.

Please meet me at the training yard in two days time.

Giyu

Dear Y/n,

How're you today? I do not wish to bother you, I just need you to know that I care. We can forget whatever you want. I will pretend away the feelings I have if you want. Whatever you want it is yours. Just please write me back.

Giyu

Dear Y/n,

I would like to speak plainly for once. I love you. You don't ever have to say it back, I just want you to know. That's all. I will stop bugging you because you do not owe me a thing. I hope you are well. If you need anything don't hesitate to reach out. I can be a friend. I can be whatever you want. Please take care of yourself.

With love, Giyu

#fem reader #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyu x reader #giyu x y/n #giyu x you #giyuu x reader #kny giyuu #kny x reader

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yoursinfulurges · 1 year ago

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Enchantress

Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: You would guard your throne from vultures no matter the cost and so the games begins. In which Aemond Targaryen regrets making an enemy of his wife.

Aemond is a cheating hoe. No one wanted this I just really wanted to write some angst. As always your features and ethnicity is not mentioned, background is not specified but you are a highborn. After the Serpentine series I wanted something spicy.

Word count: 8.1k

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

By nature you were a patient person, taking great diligence in ensuring emotions doesn't overcome your judgment. But as the hour grows late your forbearance for your husband had begun to wear thin. It nears twelve and you had been waiting for Aemonds return for well over three hours now. With every passing minute you find yourself drowning in madness as you draw a blank on where or what he was up to. Succumbing to the ill thoughts on your mind as the flickering dance and crackle of the fire floods your senses. You're tired, you're anxious and your ears are ringing yet you still sat unmoving. Why?

There was no doubt that the man in question confused you to no end, nevertheless you still made sure to act accordingly and play the part of his wife. Although you're finding it increasingly hard to upkeep the role of his good little lover when the man is hardly in your presence. It was true that your marriage with Aemond was one out of political leverage, but you still did your best to care for him. Always making sure your relationship was fostered and tended to in the hopes of something blossoming.

You had faith that he would grow fonder of you as the years went on, but with every passing day that thought was challenged. It had been a long journey but without fail you acted kind and loving towards him no matter the expense. Valuing your relationship with Aemond a great deal, you were willing to do anything for him.

Even endure his callous behaviors towards you.

It was no secret that the prince was rather displeased with your union. For a man that preached the importance of preforming duty, he was awfully bad at it. You had been wedded for almost half a year now and have yet to consummate the marriage. Not that you weren't willing to, the problem lies with your husband. It was plain to see behind closed doors that he did not take you seriously.

In his eye this marriage was a joke, you were but strangers at best due to his lack of effort. Now you know not of the origins of his distant behavior but you've tried your best to minimize them. Dragging Aemond off to accompany you on walks around the castle, asking him to join you for lunch; everyday without faltering you tried.

But to no avail, your attempts does little to dull the wall between you two. He doesn't interact with you unless it was mandatory or for show, displayed little emotions past cordial. And god forbid laying a hand on you was the end of the fucking world. Was this who Aemond Targaryen was? Cold and cynical? Deprived of all that makes a person human. Every time you looked at him he was a ghost, fading into the background slipping from your grasp. He was untouchable, invisible. His self-righteous aura creating a vortex around him.

The distance between Aemond and you had started to become apparent to the ladies in court. Everyday without fail they would voice their concerns, asking you if you were being mistreated. Of course you lie, a task that comes easy to you, easier than you thought it would since you had little ties with your husband. Though it makes you wonder if Aemond also found it easy to lie to you....

The thought gets lost on you as an intrusive sound rings through your chambers. Brows furrowing at the disturbance, why would Aemond feel the need to knock on your shared room? The train was rather absurd so it leads you into thinking that it wasn't him paying you a visit. Much to your disappointment. With confusion in your voice, you call out to the visitor.

"Come in." Anxiously bringing your palms together on your lap. Your fingers locked themselves in a manner of worry, squeezing tightly as you prepare yourself. Soon the door opens and in follows Ser Larys Strong. His pronounced way of walking evident as the cane hits the ground harshly. The sound announcing and intrusive, almost counting down the seconds before he reaches you.

"I am sorry to intrude on your private time my Lady, especially when the hour is so late but I fear this matter cannot wait till dawn." He smiles sympathetically although you do not like implications behind it. You notion for him to sit across from you, watching the scene carefully. You don't utter a word as he moves to take his place. Ser Larys's visits are always prompted.... And by the look on his face it reads that he knows something you don't... That fact slightly unnerved you...

"I thought this news would be best heard if it were from me.... From a friend..." Bullshit. Larys always had an ulterior motive, he liked cultivating favors from the court only for them to owe him in return. No doubt that he was a sick man that enjoyed manipulating others, finding power in mind games in a way that he cannot with the sword. You were far from friends but played the game together. He only viewed you so highly because you were one of the only people the didn't fall for his lures and cryptic words.

"I take it this news is not pleasant." Lifting a brow at him in question, you kept your manner strong and imposing. He swallows and nods his head briefly, averting his gaze from you to look at the floor.

"Earlier today.... Prince Aemond was caught indulging a servant girl in Harrenhal." He says the words carefully though no amount of safe keeping can withhold your anger. Larys words were vague but you understood clearly what he meant. Shaking in your seat, you calm yourself. Or at least tried to....

You were going to fucking kill him.

"Ah.... I see... Who else knows?" Your words come out strained. Tone cut and tense, implying that you were holding back an outburst as tears of anger slowly clouds your gaze. What did you honestly expect? Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, vision tunneling as rage began crawling up your center. For a moment your breath stills, the abyss captivating you before you snap out of it and focusing on Ser Larys once more. He says nothing as he watches the fire burn, avoiding your venomous stare.

"Just you and me." He nods slowly, finally looking at you, only to drop his gaze soon after. He was uncomfortable beyond measure... His mouth opens to say something once more but stops to take in your shape. You clutched at the chair with a murderous grip, nails digging into the stained leather. Slowly he met your unmoving eyes, taken aback by the poison swimming amongst them. Gods be good... That look never meant well. The tension was heavy and for a moment Larys feared for his own life. You were not sad nor disheartened, instead you were seething in hatred. The room fogs with something unpleasant as the walls welcomed the illness like an old friend. Such atmosphere was suffocating as he watched you shake in retribution, no doubt planning your next calculating moves.

Vengeance. That was all you wanted. Many questions plagued your mind, had you not been good enough for him? You've done all that you could to please him and yet he disrespect your name with his adultery. You honestly didn't know what to say, it wasn't like this was much of a shock to you since a part of you always had suspicions. But you dismissed those thoughts as nothing but intrusive and toxicant. Yet to hear the words out loud coming from a reputable man such as Ser Larys Strong was much different than you telling yourself. Larys was many things but he was not a liar. His words always had claim and a backbone, despite how distasteful the intentions behind them may be. You could not care less about what he wants to get out of you, what you want to know is what else he's keeping locked away. And what will it take to get him talking.

"The servant that caught them and sent for a raven was found killed under.... suspicious circumstances... I only received both letters now, of the girls retelling and of her death.... A dagger through the mouth what an awful way to go..." Larys speaks when you don't, watching the way you thought in silence. He wondered what you were thinking, for he was one of the only people that knew your true nature. You were a murderous woman, manipulative, vigilant, and vengeful... Behind those stupid smiles and shy fronts was an enchantress, turning the tides in her favor. And now an outsider trespasses on your waters. Larys knows more than anything that you were willing to guard your throne from vultures at any cost.

You didn't like coming second to anybody, and for a moment he prays for the prince...

"I understand that this must be difficult for you, but if you are ever in need... I'll be sure to be of service in this trying time..." You scoff at that, the sound reverberating through the room. There it was. The bait he dangles so tempting in front of foolish fish.

"At what cost Ser Larys, I am no fool. I know everything from you must always come at a price." Holding your chin up high, you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat. Having calmed down a little, you plan a rainstorm of hell fire.

"Not this time... You see, this girl that had somehow managed to enthrall the prince.... She is a nuisance on my side so you can insure my allegiance is with you. As Lord of Harrenhal I make it a point to know everything and anything going on in my own castle, even if I'm not present. I can ensure you that I have eyes everywhere." You ignore the way your stomach turns at the thought of someone else captivating Aemond as you thought on his proposal. It would be quite useful to have someone with such connections on your side. Shaking your head as you corrected yourself. There were no sides nor factions, you were not at war with Aemond. Yet.

"Can you tell me the name of this girl?"

"She goes by Alys Rivers, you may know of her...." It was almost comical enough to force a laugh.

A bastard Strong... How truly ironic and cliche. It would seem that the very vendetta he had against his own nephews would be the cause of his own demise. The pain that rushed through you didn't burn anymore, instead it courses through your veins in bittersweetness, fueling your vengeance and need for revenge. You didn't care all that much about closure, instead looking for all the ways you can induce the same pain onto Aemond. You were patient to a fault, all the unwanted emotions manifesting into pettiness and spite.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must be precise and conniving, you couldn't afford any spill ups. In truth the stature he built of himself was great; intimidating, undying, a menace. But beneath all that you knew he was still the same little boy that got bullied for not having a dragon. Scars like that cannot be grown out of, especially when they've left such permanent imprints on him. You were not going to evoke One Eye Aemond who rides the largest dragon, but rather the young little boy he held so dearly to his heart. That was the Aemond you wanted to hurt. Not the man that gave you blank stares and barely spoke any words to you. Not the man that dares call himself your husband when he has not deserved the name. The neglected outcast freak, that was who you were going to murder.

How dare he choose her over you. Suddenly it clouds your vision. All the violence, the fire, the insecurities. Your inability to think clear, the pride and pain of being his wife. Your lust and distaste for the man that caused you such pain. It ruptures your heart. You would trade love for greed just to induce the same feelings onto him. Oh how you wanted to ruin him. Ruin her for him. By the end of it you wanted him begging at your knees, crying apologies. Who does Alys Rivers think she was to steal your husband away from you. And who does Aemond think he was to assume you wouldn't retaliate. Or perhaps he knew and simply didn't care... That was a common theme in your husband, not caring about you. He was more of a fool than you thought of if he thinks you were just going to stand for this and take it.

No. You wanted an eye for an eye. Or more plainly, a heart for a heart.

"Her existence threatens you." Speaking lowly as you projected your thoughts onto Ser Larys. You aren't the only one to have a reason to hate the aforementioned wench. You may be hazed with hatred but you are not blind. There was a reason Ser Larys chose to come to you instead of Aemond with this information. Without him you wouldn't have known anything, and surely the favor of a prince would be worth more than you could ever give him. Yet he came knocking at your door.

"I am the sole heir to my fathers title, if that bastard had somehow managed to persuade the prince then my very seat is challenged. An outsider amongst the natives. I need to ensure my status, my lady. Can I trust you on this." His words were frantic almost, his long brown hair falling over his face as he leaned in close. Ser Larys was pleading, in his own way...

"You can. Now, my friend... what will you have me do?" The smile that spread across your face was sinister as you prompted his guidance. Though it was more rhetorical, you knew what had to be done.

"Seduce Aemond. Capture his attention enough so that he begins to question his love for her." Love? Was that burned between them? Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you thought on it more. It wasn't a bad design, far better than you stabbing a knife through Alys in front of Aemond. Only one minor flaw.

"And how shall I manage to do that!? The man can barely look at me!"

"To the unseeing eye it appears that way. Though the amount of times I've caught his gaze lingering longer than it should is great. You are a smart woman y/n, I'm sure you can figure out a way to break through his barrier."

Could it be that all this time you just hadn't noticed him looking at you? Regardless that was irrelevant as you pondered your first move. You and Larys had the advantage, Aemond doesn't know that you knew of his infidelity. And as far as you're aware your image as his good little wife was still intact, so perhaps you would play into that role more. Aemond’s betrayal made you realize that you've grown stiff as a board. It dulls you as you realize that you've come to be the very woman you pray for. Desperately lost in their marriage. Endlessly dreaming, hoping one day Aemond would come around and play pretend with you. He was taking advantage of you without you knowing it. He sees your very being as something he can twist and turn in his palm like one of his daggers.

At a certain point he was bound to get cut.

To hurt Aemond Targaryen you must hurt that little boy. It had been weeks since your night with Ser Larys and silently you had been scheming. So far you remained indifferent, trying hard to make sure you aren't faltering by acting the same. It was a hard task that you've come to dread as you knew the cold truth behind his behaviors. At day he would be with you, by night he would be deep in her. You only began to notice the missing hours in your days and curse yourself for being so foolish. You thought long and hard about how you were going to approach the situation. Dissecting your husband under a magnifying glass whilst hiding behind timid smiles. And soon enough your praying and mute jealousy had manifested into the form of a golden haired beast bearing red and gold.

Ser Tyrin Lannister...

A handsome, charming young lord that has come to pay the crown a visit... Though you saw him for what he truly was, a prideful and egotistical man that's blinded by arrogance. The perfect pawn for your game. Truthfully, you only picked him out because he beared such acute resemblance to prince Aegon. The only difference in appearance was instead of the famed silver hair his was pure gold. You hoped that your choice of companion would strike a nerve with Aemond, seeing that he's spent so much of his youth being tormented by the image of the man.

And by the way he was glaring daggers at you and Tyrin, your expectations fall true. It was easy to manipulate the Lannister with sugar coated words and flirtatious giggles, the problem lied with Aemond taking the bait. Up until this point you were basically going off theory, but now you can trust that Aemond was a possessive man.

Your laugh rings through the room as you giggle at something Tyrin whispered in your ear. The man was indeed charismatic which made talking to him easy enough. If you hadn't diluted him to nothing but a playing piece you would have found yourself actually enjoying his company. You had been acquainted for quite some time now, ever since his first arrival, and everyday without fail you were with him. Slowly but surely you had began replacing Aemond with Tyrin in your life. It was him you went on walks with, it was him you dinned with. There was no doubt that Lannisters had vanity and he was aware of it, he was aware of how his gracious gifts won you over and softened you. Or so he thought. In weeks time you had managed to accumulate a collection of gold and ruby jewelries from the man himself.

Something Aemond has not taken kindly to, seeing the way his jaw would clench everytime you adorned the treasures. At this point you had purposely made a show of it, parading in a red and gold gown with massive ruby earrings dangling from your ears. All while you showcased a brilliant ruby and gold choker around your neck. You looked more like Tyrin's wife than Aemond's and perhaps that was your goal. Though honestly your endgame gets lost on you as you're having so much fun toying with him. No doubt Aemond had begun to pick up on your absence and it was hilarious to see. His worries and insecurities must've gotten the best of him because now you can't go anywhere without him trailing behind. He was always there, watching in silence, perhaps judging you but you did not care. The fact of the matter was, whatever you were doing was working.

"If you stare any longer I'm sure a fire will start to burn." Aegon says dryly from beside his brother, looking down at his empty chalice before placing it down all together. The elder rolled his eyes at the familiar 'hmmm' that escaped Aemond as he opens his mouth to say something but he turns mute. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the sight.

Contrary to popular belief, Aegon was not a complete fucking asshole. Well... sometimes he wasn't... He sensed his brothers discomfort greatly and although he didn't want to pry, he wanted to know what laid within the inner workings of Aemond's mind. Call it care or intrigue, but he loved gossip like an old widowed wife. Fact of the matter was, Aegon Targaryen was painful self aware and it didn't take much to figure out that Tyrin Lannister was him in lions clothing. Of course Tyrin was him if he actually tried and excelled at things. His drunken habits aside, he wanted to know why his sister in law was so taken by him with golden hair....

"He looks like me..." Aegon turns to his brother only to notice him swiftly walking away at his words. He turns to the man once more, brows pulling in contempt. Maybe he should have been born a Lannister....

To say that Aemond was irritated was an understatement. It was all so ridiculous. The fact that you were throwing yourself so carelessly for a man such as that imbecile. All Lannisters were dazzling armors with nothing truly potent inside. They were blinded by shine and glimmer just as much as everyone else was from their looks. He wouldn't admit it out loud but the resemblance Ser Tyrin had to his brother was uncanny. And he wouldn't dare admit that these unbecoming feelings were derived from that fact alone. Call Aemond what you will, a bitter husband, a possessive man, but he did not like what was playing out in front of him.

Over the passing weeks you had devoted your attention to that man and him alone. From the moment you awoke you were dressed in red and gold, throughout the day you were by his side. He no longer saw you and you no longer sought for his attention. He thought it'd be nice, to finally get you off his back but everyday he grows increasingly impatient. Were you not his wife? He knows he doesn't have a proper claim over you especially with how he's been acting but he still owned his emotions. And he was allowed to feel however he wanted to. Although he doesn't speculate any infidelity from your end, mainly because you weren't the type in his eye, it was plain that you were taken by a lion. Whether you knew it or not, you were dancing with a beast and Aemond would not take such defeat.

In all honesty, he's certain you aren't fucking Tyrin. Now perhaps that was just wishful thinking fueling his denial but you weren't exactly the type. All your marriage he's known you as nothing but dull... The perfect embodiment of who his parents wanted him to marry. Kind, respectable, a push over... In his opinion you were devoted to a fault. Seeing you as nothing but mindless doll who had no other choice but to fall in line and agree with whoever owned them. Hence why when seeking companionship he purposely chose some the exact opposite of you. Alys was older by a few years and had all the experience he craved. It was no question why that he sought for her instead of you. Word around the castle was that you were thought to be too pious to succumb to sins of temptation unless duty was in order.

He hadn't meant to grow so attached to Alys but she was exhilarating. Everytime they were apart he yearned for her body. She was captivating and alluring in all senses, intoxicating him. With long brown hair and a figure that could make the gods envious, she held him with a death grip. His Alys. Aemond knew that what he had with her wasn't love but more so addiction, but he didn't care what it was just as long as he got to have more of it. The differences between you and Alys were stark to see, you were at polars end. But what drawned him to her was the fact that she was so aware of her touch. He liked women that knew how to wield a weapon, and he quite honestly couldn't picture you doing the same. They called her many names for her beauty, searing her as a witch for her dominion over man.

If he wanted an enchantress you would give it to him. You would be better than Alys in every way imaginable. If he wanted someone who can satisfy him then you would drive him into the brink of madness with your touch. You wanted to suffocate and flush out Aemond Targaryen till he was no more than a shell. It started off slow. Switching your clothing in favor of another, something more hugging and accentuating. Your old gowns so colorful and modest were now replaced with darker tones that showed off your body well. It was an odd switch but you felt more comfortable this way strangly enough.

Then you traded innocent stares for something more bidden, your once doe eyes turning siren as you realize the effects of you had. Perhaps Aemond cheating on you was a blessing in disguise. You only now realize how good it felt to be wanted. All throughout court, men and women a like would fall in line for you. They would bow if you commanded so. You looked like someone to be taken seriously and not so much like a walking virtue. Everytime you entered a room eyes would be on you, the silent respect your new aura demanded was intoxicating. You knew who you were and what you were capable of, it was time for them now to know too.

It was empowering. You felt Immortal and unchallenged. To have them speak so nervously to you, the shy stares and permanent blushes. Your new change had prompted many curiosities but what captures people so was your attitude. Cunning, sly and quick witted, all the aspects of your being that you suppressed. You had never felt this in control all your life, like the tides were moved by your will.

All your life you've been taught to be one way despite your true wishes. You painted yourself as the image of what a lady was supposed to be without understanding why you were doing it. Or who you were doing it for. Perhaps this is why the change was so liberating, because you no longer chose to hide yourself. Maybe this was who you were all along and just needed a push to embrace it. You no longer felt like you were wearing a mask and truthfully you don't think you could ever put it on again. Not when they all doted around you. Not they all craved for you. Not when you had such power over desires.

They all fell into line... all but Aemond.... but you had something special for him. For now you let his judgment cloud him. You doubt that he's picked up on your facade faltering. It was quite strange to embrace the very values your teaching went against. Sensuality, unkept emotions, temptation. Having been guided to act one way only to realize that people yearned for the other more. To switch from being subdued to domineering. You no longer let people tell you what to do and how truly inebriating it was.

〄

"You are intoxicating...."

You know not how much time has passed, only consumed on Tyrin's lips as he grasped your body all over. Laughing when his teeth grazed your neck, you threw your head back in bliss. Maybe this was what the Septa was trying to keep you away from, the overwhelming sensations of sex. It rushes through you, sending your skin on fire in it's wake. God, he knew how to please you so. Giggling into your ear as his golden locks curtain the sinful things he whispered, Tyrin's fingers expertly yanks your skirt up. You let him pin you to the bed, a stupid smile spreading across your face. If such an act was so bad then why on earth did it feel so good?

How exhilarating it was to be desired, to be wanted and fondled with care. And to think, all this time you had spent rotting away in your bed chambers waiting for Aemond. If he would not satisfy you then you would satisfy yourself, fulfillment taking the form of a rogue lover. Perhaps it was messy to set your eyes on the men of the court but maybe that's what you wanted. You like the thrill of getting caught, liked the rumors that murmured through the halls. Although you hadn't slept with anyone but Tyrin, you couldn't contain yourself from teasing the occasional lord and lady. Naturally, word got around of your effects and of you and Tyrin's speculated affairs. And not so long after, word finally traveled to your dear stupid husband. Though it wasn't until he caught you in the middle of the act did he finally take it seriously. Up until this point they were but toothless claims, not believing his tight laced wife would ever be capable enough to find her own back bone.

"Faster.... faster..." You say through half lidded eyes, blurry vision locked onto the man in between your legs. Your fingers intertwined with his golden hair as you guide his head at your will. Body heaving and grinding up against his mouth. You pull at your skirts more to get a better view of his face.

All was falling into place and you would make your first strike as footsteps approached up the hall. You were nearing ecstasy as your eyes stay trained onto the door. You had perfectly timed everything and in a manner of seconds you would land such a blow so harsh that it would shatter Aemonds views of you. His boring and dull, obedient little wife coming undone by a man that was not him. You suppress a moan as Tyrin slips his middle finger in you, fucking you in and out as his lips wrap around your swollen clit. Almost there, almost there....

Oh it was all too much yet not enough at the same time. It floods you, sending you over the edge as you desperately grasp onto the bed covers. And at the sound of the door opening you let out a series of gasps turned moans as you lock eyes with the cause of your downfall. The look on his face was satisfaction enough, but you wanted more. Eyes closing in bliss as your head falls onto the bed, a laugh so sinister rings through the room. You pull your skirt over to hide your exposed skin as you smile up at Tyrin. Drawing him close to place a long loving kiss on his lips, you nod your head out the door, whispering empty promises of later. Aemond watches the whole exchange, mouth clenched and fists balled. As the man walked past him and out the door Aemond had to physically stop himself from mauling him and setting him on fire.

There was no doubt about it, he was angry. Shaking in place much like you had in your seat weeks ago. He didn't know what these emotions were blossoming in his chest but he didn't like it. It burned in a way so violent he fears that a hole may form in his chest. He does nothing for a few moments, simply standing in place eyeing you like a predator to it's prey. You do the same, putting all your body weight on your elbow as you laid on the bed unmoving. If he expected a stream of desperate apologies to fall from your mouth then he was not going to get it. You looked at eachother with much venom and alcohol. The gratification you got coursed through you as the image he had witnessed stayed forever burned in his brain.

Good. You wanted him to remember that forever. Much like you'll remember his actions towards you for eternity. Suddenly you were angry. Angry at him, angry at his fucking Alys, angry at Ser Larys. Snarling in hate as your gaze hardens you force yourself to speak.

"Get out." The words were cold, and for a moment Aemond flinches as it echoed through the walls. He does what you command, harshly shutting the door behind him and you fall onto the bed once more.

What had you done?

You were getting even. You wouldn't be here if he hadn't have provoked you first. Truthfully, you didn't know what scared you more, the fact that you could have potentially ruined your marriage or how absolutely addicting it was to inflict pain onto him. One things for certain though, you weren't done.

Aemond didn't know what to feel. He was a mess of emotions, lashing out at anything and everything in his way. A part of him knew that this was only fair yet why did it hurt him so bad? He thought he didn't care about you, thought you were a mere pawn in this game but it appeared that all this time you were playing him. All of it is a mystery to him as he begins to think on your relationship more. What parts of you were actually real, which was really you and which was his wife? Were your affections for him true and had he hurt you so? All this time he thought you were playing a role, or maybe you were. Because the girl laying on that bed laughing like the stranger was not his wife.

No, she was a demon. A succubus getting off on his pain. All of it is so confusing, the bruises you left dragging him down into the depths. Yet why did it excite him a little... Watching you like that.... Aemond feels as though he couldn't breathe, the remaining fragments of his heart shriveled at the thought of falling victim to weakness. He would not allow this, he wouldn't allow a man like Tyrin Lannister to best him and steal you away. The sorrow he felt was akin to an old friend, the bittersweetness that plagued his soul reminded him of his youth. This was a feeling he promised himself he would never endure again. The feeling of being less than and not enough. He had failed you. He had failed you so bad that you had to go seeking for another. Now he knew that he was being a hypocrite on that but he was vulnerable.

Being vulnerable was not something Aemond Targaryen was used to.

〄

"You aren't to see him again." Aemond yelled, trailing after the girl as you entered your shared chambers. The space thankfully empty as you ignored his impending attitude. Your breath quickens as you find yourself caught in a rather unpleasant situation. It had been merely an hour since that gurly sight with Ser Tyrin Lannister, and Aemond finds himself losing all remaining composure he had left with you.

"Huh?" There was something rather vexing about your tone that proved to be daggers in Aemond's ears. The way you expressed such profound boredom and taciturn, as if this conversation was an inconvenience to you. You displayed an tired exposure that puzzled him to no end because the confrontation has yet to begin. Your slack demeanor and annoyed undertone was both riddling and infuriating to Aemond.

"Ser Tyrin Lannister, you aren't allowed to see him again!" Deciding to forgo any avoidance, Aemonds tone was cut clean. He told you how it was, and he did not care about preserving feelings when you were showing such childish behavior. You would either accept never seeing that man, or any man for that matter again, or Aemond would turn to more extreme measures.

"Well... who knew it was possible to evoke such emotions from you. And here I thought you were incapable." Aemond's eye widen in shock as you put on an uncharacteristic display of theatrics. You scoffed and silently berated him with your inflection. This was a side of you he's never seen before. It was a tiny probe that was meant to provoke him by angling into his worries in a brash and unnecessary way. Aemond didn't know whether or not you were intentionally trying to anger him, but he couldn't find it in himself to care if it was deliberate or not.

"...I beg your pardon?" His words wry and barren with any emotions, genuinely taken aback.

"Well then kneel and start begging." You turn to him sharply, backing him against the door as he looked down at you in shock, yet you don't back down.

"You can't tell me what to do. But if you wish to keep believing that you have some sort of power over me, I will try my best to be more discreet with my partners." You wave your hand at him, as if done with this conversation but he was far from finished.

"I will not have you acting like a whore y/n! You are my wife and mine alone!" Aemond did not mean to call you that but as the words slip from his lips he soon finds himself regretting it. Watching the way you hesitated for a moment, a flash of hurt gleaming on your face before turning angry. He knew men have called their wives much worse but not him. His mother had always made sure he knew how to treat women. If only she knew how that back fired...

A whore....

He thought that you were a whore......

Normally you wouldn't let such meaningless words effect you so but that was exactly it, it wasn't meaningless. Not when it came from the mouth of the person you once thought the world of. Aemond used to be everything to you, and to hear that coming from him was disheartening to no end. Yes you knew that he was just angry because you pushed him so, but that fact became irrelevant as you begin to feel claustrophobic from your emotions. You felt frail, burning with a thick blanket of insecurities and rage constricting you, like a greedy serpent, ready to prey and corrupt you whole. You felt like Alice, falling into a dark rabbit hole of anxiety and panic, despair beginning to pull you down. It was all too much, and you suddenly began to feel so small. Your once defiance now subdued and replaced with the image of a shaking girl maddened. You felt afraid... not of Aemond but of your emotions...

Compose yourself, you were not going allow such disrespect and you were not going to fall into your old ways again.

"Don't play the fool, Aemond. You started this. Quite honestly what did you think was going to happen?" You yelled firmly in his face, trying so hard to push your emotions away. But thoughts of Alys tainted your mind. He would never speak to her this way. He would never act this way around her. You let the bitterness hug and empower you. The same need to hurt him reignited.

"I am simply playing the game that you started." You were reticent but in a prolix and unnecessary way. You would not reveal that he had hurt you so. Aemond opens his mouth to say something but doesn't for a few moments.

"What prompted this change..." He sounded desperate, his words breaking as he desperately searched for an answer.

"I don't know! Maybe now I don't feel the need to hide behind a mask anymore." You say to him honestly. This need for revenge and affinity for spite and pettiness, it had always been there. Aemond just didn't look at you long enough to notice it.

"I'm tired Aemond. I'm tired of doing my best to please you only for it to not be good enough!"

It wasn't just about you or Aemond being possessive anymore, it was the fact that you had reached your end. Was it so wrong to want a partner that actually loved and cared for you? Was it so wrong to want to be loved? The more you thought the more empty and hollow you felt. You can feel your soul decaying all together as anxiety crept up on you. He didn't want you.... The little voice in your head spoke. He thinks Alys is better than you..... stop... Why do you try so bad? because I must... You don't deserve to be with him... yes I do... No you don't... The voices in your head taunted, feeling feverish and flushed, you took a step back from Aemond. Suddenly afraid to be too close to him. But it did no help to calm the mean words the whirlwind through your brain. It picked at you, in a way that the thought of Alys couldn't but funny enough it was the personification of her plaguing your mind.

He doesn't think you're good enough...

I don't think you're good enough...

He doesn't think you're good enough...

We don't think you're good enough...

It's not just her anymore, the voice that invades your head is your parents speaking to you..... Then it's the King and Queen screaming... And after that it's Aegon and Helaena laughing at you...

It's Aemond talking down to you, —it's everything, it's everyone, all at once, all-consuming, suffocating and demanding. And suddenly the ability to hear is ripped from you; it's nothing. You're forced into a pliable mass being sullied, your body isn't yours anymore. It's a vessel of flooding anxiety and negative thoughts.

"I want somebody that loves me...." You say, looking at the man with such betrayal.

Be strong....

"I want a happy life with a husband that can actually stand to be in my presence. I want children of my own to fill the hole you left." You spoke after a short minute, your voice small and fragile, pleading... Aemond watches you shake and cry from where you stand. He had done this to you...

"I have spent so long loving you but that love has never served me..." Your words were soft, a timbre of spite concealed with broken confidence. You hated this... hated how you got in your own head and ruined your own self esteem... Pain feeding off your scorched heart and the embers of your love for Aemond. It was agonizing... agonizing to watch him look at you cry like this. But perhaps he needed to see you this way.

He had hurt you so badly and the moment he finally got a taste of his own medicine he ordered you to stop. It was the consuming fear of not being enough for him that killed you so, the thought of not being able to live up to the expectations. And for Aemond to stand there and call you a whore when all you ever did was try to love him.

"Forgive me my dear wife... I did not know that you have been suffering so badly all this time. Had I known...." He softens for a moment, trying to get you to understand whilst failing to consider that you didn't need to, he did.

"But you did! You knew and you still went off in search for something I cannot give you. Had you have known would it have changed anything?" You scream in broken anger and despair.

"No..."

You never learn, hearing it in your own head was a lot different than hearing it out loud. It will never be the same, it will always be ten times worse. Aemond had just confirmed your words. Of course you knew that he thought this way but it hurt a lot more. Just like that night with Ser Larys. Your shoulders slump in defeat, frowning as tears began to prick at your eyes. Aemond takes notice of this, swiftly cupping your cheeks with his large hands and forcing you to look him.

"No, because either way you would have been discontent. I cannot give you the life that you wanted." Yet you can give it to her?

"Why not!?" You yelled with such anger and rage, ripping his hands off you. Your voice echoing through the room as you cussed the boy out. You were frustrated beyond measure and above all else heartbroken. Was it truly too much to ask for? You would lying if you said it wasn’t nice having him treat you like this. Maybe weeks ago you would've swoon at the thought of his hands caressing you. But that was then and this was now.

"I am not made for love..." You fear that you can slay Vhagar with the great efforts it takes you now to remain calm. That was his excuse? A pitiful one at that. He had you standing there.... sad and broken... and all he can come up with was that love wasn't in his nature? Pain is the perfect word to describe this sensation oppressing your chest at those words. This doesn't stop you from peering up at him in question. You felt a calling to yell at him but you couldn't, no matter how badly you wanted to you. Staying baffled, every cry dying in the back of your throat. Your visage contorting in somber at Aemonds blasphemy.

"I don't believe you!" You yell at him, pushing at his chest when he tries to hug you. You break down in his arms, collapsing onto the floor as you weep into him. Aemond desperately held you close, oh what has he done to you.... He felt a myriad of emotions wash over him. Guilt, sadness, shame... He was ashamed he pushed you to this point. So he held the woman he barely knew well enough to call his wife.

"Tell me Aemond! Does your heart belong to another? Tell me now, please and I'll stop." You didn't know what you meant by stop. Stop trying? Stop loving? But if he said the words you would end it so. Aemond looks down at you, hugging onto the portrait that was once his wife.

"No! No one has captured my heart, those who came second to you, they mean nothing. They are nothing..." He says quickly, his words ringing truthful. He didn't know what prompted this new change but he panicked at the thought of losing you.

"Prove it to me." You whispered slowly. Uttering the words in a tone so cold and firm, your gaze locks onto Aemond's. Your wide eyes morphing into something else as a small smirk pulls at your lips. Distraught gone from your face as the water flow of tears halt.

"Bring me the head of Alys Rivers."

"How do you know..." He looks at you in shock for a moment, your expression ridden of distress and replaced with something sinister.... Watching his expression carefully, you place your hands on his shoulders and leaned into his ear.

"Do it and I will be yours again." It came out as a pur, a tempting whisper urging him, and Aemond found himself liking the way it sounded. That was Aemond's cord. He was as possessive as he was jealous. Much like you, he didn't like being second to anyone, but would that be enough. Turning your head to meet his gaze, it would be so easy to kiss you but he keeps a firm hold on your waist.

"If not then I will take it myself." Nodding your head briefly, you remove his arms from around you. Standing up, you walk over to your shared bed, wiping away the rogue tears before sitting down. Aemond's brows furrowed in confusion, you were much more composed now and hidden behind your eyes was a sense of coldness.

"It appears that I have much to learn about you my lovely wife. But If it will please you then as you wish." Aemond stands soon after you, nodding his head as he planned to make amends.

"You're willing to kill her just like that?" Turning your head to him slightly, you questioned where his loyalty lied.

"I told you she means nothing to me... Did you think otherwise?" His sly expression displayed a certain vainglory that caused you to turn away. So maybe you had thought otherwise but your insecurities had to come from somewhere.

"If you're lying to me Aemond I will have your other eye." Threatening may not be the answer but you liked the hesitancy it triggered from him.

"I suppose this is my fault.... you don't trust me." Nodding his head as he walked slow steps towards you, Aemond kneels down in front of the bed and takes your hands in his.

"You have given me every reason not to trust you." With a stiff lip, you turn from him.

"I know... But let me make it right." Guiding your chin with his fingers to make you look at him, you noticed a hint of regret and shame swimming in his eye.

"The road to forgiveness will not be easy." You tell him firm.

"I know... my love." You ignore the butterflies that awoke from that title and watch as he rose to grab his riding coat. And so it begins...

༺━━━━━━━━━༻༒༺━━━━━━━━━༻

Autho's Note:

Let me know if you guys want more! There's more to this story but I chopped it up into two parts because I wasn't done and I wanted to have something out for you guys. I swear to god I drop fics unannounce then dissappear for months lmao.

- Armoni

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yuri-is-online · 7 months ago

Text

One Sided Love Triangles: Tokyo Debunker

Link to Twisted Wonderland Post

Because I hate when people have to lose. Though I'd be way more comfortable writing a normal love triangle for tdb than twst... there's a few of these bitches who could stand to be knocked down a peg or two.

Haru vs Peekaboo- betrayal never comes from your enemies does it. Haru wants to be happy you get along with his baby, and he's really grateful for your continued help in the anomalous animal sanctuary, really. He even originally found your interactions with Peekabo really cute! He's got a bunch of videos saved on his phone and everything but he can't help but feel just a wee bit bitter. He really wants to be the one with his head in your lap getting scritches and being told how cute he is. Something he'd never say to your face but whines about at the bar enough for Romeo to record and send to you. "For free?" Yeah for free he's had enough of this shit please come get your man MC.

Kaito vs Luca- this one is cannon to a degree I think... Kaito is deeply insecure about how much more confident Luca is around MC compared to him and how the girls on campus seem to like him more. The fact that he's so painfully oblivious doesn't help, meanwhile Luca is just overjoyed that his two best friends are in such a good relationship. You're genuinely perfect for each other, why all these secrecy and making him promise not to tell the other about the nice things you say? Isn't it natural to gush about your partner???

Towa vs Ren- Towa is such a pouty baby who doesn't fully understand his feelings and Ren is just happy to have a friend who understands the concept of a log in bonus. Neither of you fully realize that Towa is attempting to flirt, or would it be closer to say woo? All you know is one minute the two of you are casually chilling and talking about horror movies or something and then *BAM* Towa's thrown some flowers at Ren and pulled you into his lap. He's happy you wiggle to get comfy with him but very upset that you keep up your conversation with Ren. Stop being a good senpai and pay attention to hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiim.

Tohma vs Leo- just hear me out. I don't think Tohma really gets jealous? He seems super secure in himself and his abilities so he doesn't have much of a reason to get whiny and silly over MC, that's your role in the relationship. And he knows, logically that this little video Leo uploaded is bait to test the security on campus but it doesn't stop him from damn near cracking his phone in half when he sees it. That's how Leo wants to play this little game? Well fine, Tohma hopes he's ready to be thoroughly humiliated. No one can flirt with another man's partner quite as well as a bitch with a monocle. Leo is totally unaware any of this for the most part, he just assumes the extra irritation he's picking up on from Tohma is because he keeps spying on him and Alan. The fact he keeps teasing MC doesn't even cross his mind, he's just doing that to irritate you.

... as a side note can you imagine how confused everyone would get if Leo and MC kept picking fights about their upcoming "divorce" when no one even thought they were ever technically together. Except for Ritsu who sits you down to seriously try to talk you in to let him being your divorce attorney and still doesn't fully get that it's a joke by the time you're done. Actually while I'm at it:

Leo vs Ritsu- where that's exactly your dynamic but Leo starts catching some genuine feelings when he tries to crack a joke about you cheating on him with your divorce attorney only to realize that makes him unironically angry. How dare you, after everything you've been through. Wasn't he he enough? You know he can't treat you like he can. And you're just like "what can't treat me wrong?" And then you have a very toxic make out session Sho has to hear both of you scream about later while he seriously considers taking up a drinking problem.

Taiga vs Haru- this game has one character named Haru (ginger, baby) and one named Haku (green, evil?) Which confuses me an unreasonable amount. I already mentioned I wanted a serious Taiga vs Haku love triangle... but Taiga vs Haru would just be silly. You have MC who loves anomalous animals and hanging out in Jabberwock and Taiga who hates emotional intimacy and his feelings for MC just as much as he hates the idea of you being with anyone else. And of all people why Harry? He thought they were friends... or cool at least even if he won't let him eat that chinchilla thing. And now he's got MC playing defense for it too, it's irritating. He already has to fight himself to remember who you are every time he sees you again and go through the annoyance of recognizing he's a bit in love and now he can't even break into the animal sanctuary without tripping over himself and paying attention to you instead. It's annoying and it's all Haru's fault for having everything he wants. (If you ask he'll say that complaint is about Peekaboo but Haru and Romeo know it's not.) Haru is just trying to get some help from a trusted friend he's so stressed out ;-;

Sho vs Jin- Sho and his excuses... he doesn't want to just invite you to hang out and he doesn't want to ask you to come help him with the food truck because you've got so much else to do. You deserve a chance to rest, and he wants to be who you come to do that with. But Jin... he'd make that so much easier if it was him wouldn't he? He's rich and connected, and you're so sweet he's sure you could thaw that frozen heart enough for him to see you as human and not a gopher. Sho knows you, the moment he started paying attention to you he saw you as a person. But he still hurt you... and Jin didn't really do that did he? Jin doesn't like Sho because he's in Vagastrom and he doesn't trust him with your safety. Sho might see a rival and a better option, but what he's really dealing with is MC's disapproving dad who can't stand that their boyfriend has a leather jacket and a motorbike. He bets he's got tattoos and an arrest record too doesn't he MC, Jin is judging you so hard.

#tokyo debunker #tdb #tokyo debunker x reader #tdb x reader

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enwoso · 2 months ago

Note

Would you write something for Lovie sitting with Leah during the Bk Hacken game and she being strict with Leah as Lessi told her Leah’s head was concussed only lovie thinking she is confused

CONFUSED AND CONCUSSED! — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy masterlist

"and remember to look out for auntie lele okay, cause she's got a concussion" mummy reminded you with a serious look as she zipped your jacket up, putting your hood up to keep your ears warm. alessia using that moment as a nice way to remind you not to drive the poor blonde up the wall with your excitement.

you nodded attentively, taking each word seriously for once as your mummy kissed your cheek, before hugging you tight as you whispered a good luck before running back to where leah was sat with steph in meadow park.

the ground not being too busy yet as people were just starting to pile in and get settled into the game. "you excited for the game kiddo" steph asked as you nodded with a grin, you always loved game days.

you turned to leah who had the match day programme in her hand, tentatively reading through it. a squint here and there from the blonde as she tried to get a better look at the page.

"auntie lele!" you snatched the match programme out from her hands before leah even had a chance to react as a confused look flashed across her face.

"erm tiny what have-" leah began, trying to explain to why you don't snatch things from people's hands except before she could even get a word in, you interrupted her. a stern look on your face, pretty much mirroring the one leah had on her face.

"no! mummy said you not allowed to do any thing that uses your mind- cause you'll get confused again" you told leah as her face softened as steph sat watching the whole matter unfold — trying her best to stifle her laughter that was building inside.

watching leah be scolded by a four year old wasn't on her list of things she would witness today but that didn't make it any less entertaining, if anything it made it more.

leah stood stunned for a moment, her mouth opening to say something but no words actually came out as her brain tried to rack around the situation.

“i know your just trying to look out for me tiny — and look i really appreciate it but i’m not going to get confused by a few words on a page..” leah spoke with such care as you pouted a little but nodding none the less.

the start of the match came and you began your usual cheering making sure not to be too loud in case it hurt auntie lele’s head, you knowing that it could make her confused again which you didn’t want to happen as in your mind it was never a nice feeling to be confused — you hated when you got your letter b’s and d’s mixed up at school. the two letter looking too similar for your liking.

your mummy was playing well hitting the target a few times but one really good chance came in the 39th minute — kyra hit the cross bar. a loud cheer coming from steph as you winced. it being too loud.

“auntie steph!” you turned to look at her with a scowl, as steph blinked at you. her attention more on the pitch than the look you were giving her.

“yes kiddo?” she said glancing down at you, a smile on her face soon dropping as she seen your scowl. “you can’t screech like dat- auntie lele will get confused” you told the australian as she nodded taking in fully what you said as she mumbled a small apology pinky promising to not shout as loud for the rest of the game.

you telling leah or steph off when either of them did something that might make auntie lele confused carried on the entirety of the match. a small movement and it might hurt leah’s head.

anytime leah glanced at her phone to check the time you were quick to scowl at her as she huffed shuffling her phone back into her coat pocket or when half time came around and the music started playing around medow park you insisted that leah covered her ears.

even though while you were insisting on helping leah she assured you she was fine and had been cleared by the physio at arsenal but you just kept on going — leah maybe had been given the clear by the doctor at arsenal but she hadn’t been given the clear by doctor tiny?

the whistle went and you held tightly onto leah’s hand as you guided her down to the pitch, but you were quick to let go when your mummy spotted you. rushing into her arms as she twirled you around.

“have you looked after auntie lele?” your mummy asked with a raise of the eyebrows as you nodded proudly. “auntie lele had doctor tiny’s best care!”

“i bet she has” alessia chuckled as you wriggled out of your mummy’s arms rushing off to say your hellos to the other girls mainly making a beeline for kyra or vic.

alessia watched as leah walked over a less than impressed look on the england captains face. “heard you had some top tier care?” alessia giggled as leah scoffed.

“love her to bits but please make sure she never wants to be a doctor!” leah grumbled as she started to recount all the things you’d done to make sure that leah didn’t get anymore confused.

“oh she must of thought i meant confused when i told her you had a concussion” alessia laughed as she realised what had gone so wrong, you’d gotten the words muddled up.

“oh so she’s the one whose confused, not me!”

“leah need i remind you she’s four, your twenty-seven. of course she’s not gonna know what a concussion is!”

#alessia russo x y/n #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso community #woso appreciation #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #grumpy universe #enwoso

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aquaticmercy · 29 days ago

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Soft Lights

Bucky Barnes x reader drabble in which you get high together.

warnings/tags : fluff! Marijuana consumption. Cursing.

note : I have not been high in like three years so this was written to my fuzzy memory lol.

The soft glow of the various small lamps scattered around the room, giving the space, dreamy vibe like you were in another world. I mean you were, in some sense.

You were tucked against Bucky’s side, legs tangled up in his, the sharing warmth of his body, weight sinking into each other until you felt like one. The sweet smell of you half eaten brownie lingered in the air, lazy and mellow, as you both melted further into the cushions.

Bucky’s empty jar of gummies sat on his lap. It’s insane how much more it took to get him as high as you— courtesy of the super soldier serum.

Bucky chuckled low and breathy, the sound rumbling through his chest. You turned to look at him, his blue eyes twinkling in the low light. He caught your gaze and just eased into another fit of giggles, his metal hand gently squeezing your thigh as if he was sharing some inside joke that you didn’t quite understand.

“What?” you asked, confused, but you can’t help a smile tugging at your lips. His laughter, his joy was contagious.

“You’re just… you’re so… cute.” Bucky said. The laughter bubbled up again. His voice had that thick, dreamy feature to it that only came when he was feeling really relaxed. It was like the opposite of his disoriented, groggy morning voice. He reached up to poke your cheek, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Like, seriously,” he asked, “how are you so cute?”

“I’m not cute!” you protested weakly, trying to swat his hand away, but it just made him laugh harder, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you adored.

“Yes, you are,” he insisted, his voice dropping as he leaned in closer. He brushed your nose with his. “The cutest. Like, scientifically proven.” His lips hovered over yours, teasingly close but not quite touching yet.

You felt your heart flutter in your chest. Even though the two of you had kissed a million times before, you blushed in anticipation. Maybe it was the weed. Maybe it was just Bucky.

Everything felt warmer. The couch felt fuzzier. The air felt softer. You nudged his nose with yours again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” Bucky insisted, finally closing the gap between your lips.

His kiss was so soft and slow, full of lazy affection. His thumb traced little circles on your thigh, the vibranium nipping coolness against your skin.

When he pulled back, he looked into your eyes mindlessly. You saw a soft, adorable red blush on his cheeks. “You’re so cute I can’t even think straight,” he finally said.

You grinned. You settled down even more, the edibles creeping up to you as you leaned your head against his shoulder. “You’re just high,” you murmured, your voice sleepy and content.

“It’s you,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “But… the weed helps.”

You laughed, sinking further into him, your body completely at ease. “I love you, Bucky.”

His arm tightened around you, pulling you closer, kissing your temple. “I love you too. So much. You don’t even know.”

You smiled, your eyelids heavy as you listened to the steady beat of his heart. The world felt slow and calm, and in this moment, wrapped up in his arms, everything was perfect.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” you mumbled, half asleep and fully in love.

“Yeah, forever sounds good.” Bucky laughed, though he knew that he was probably going to get up in a few minutes when you start begging him for snacks.

-end

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

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Nanami fearing rejection from his wife and daughter after Shibuya left him seriously wounded

Pairing: Nanami x wife!reader; Nanami x daughter

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Even though he survived Shibuya, Kento Nanami dies from the inside just by the thought of losing you and his precious little daughter due to his severe wounds and scarred skin. But despite his great fear, your reaction turns out completely different than expected.

Warnings: Let's just pretend this is how it ended okay I'm crying, tried to proofread this but I'm just veeeery depressed right now, this might be the fluff you NEED after today's episode

Request and idea by gorgeous @wifenanami <3

Everything’s a blur. What happened last? How did he get here? His heavy heart skips a beat. Oh, right. His whole left side burns like a thousand fires, arm unable to move even an inch by the way his skin feel like bursting every minute. He was severely burned. The last thing he saw was…

Haibara, then Yuji, and then…

You.

Oh god, just the thought of you kills him from the inside.

“Hey, easy there. Your heartbeat is jumping out of the roof. You need to rest now, Nanami. I already called your wife.”

The smell of burned cigarettes simply takes his breath away, along with the venomous words that leave Shoko’s mouth so casually.

“My wife?”, he coughs out, body desperately trying to sit up.

No, this is impossible. You can’t see him like that, body covered in burn marks with his left eye and hair missing. What will you think of him? And what about your daughter? That sweet innocent angel, will she even be able to recognize him? You, his wife, the love of his wife. Your daughter, the greatest treasure on earth.

Will you be disgusted by his fearful sight?

“Yeah, she’s already on her way. Honestly I wasn’t sure if you’ll make it, so I-“

“Why on earth did you call her?”

Shoko stops in her tracks, laying her head to the side in nothing but confusion.

“Huh, what are you talking about? (y/n)’s your wife after all, why wouldn’t I tell her?”

“What if she doesn’t recognize me? What if she’s freaked out by me? What if she brings our daughter with her?”

His sweaty palms begin to shake uncontrollably. In his life, Kento Nanami lost a lot of things: Jobs, money, people, good friends. But oh god, the thought of losing you, his precious little family. It truly kills him from the inside.

“Stop talking nonsense. Being pathetic doesn’t suit you at all”, Shoko remarks dryly.

His widen eyes dart towards the door, waiting in nothing but thick fear for your arrival. Was this afternoon the last time you looked at him as lovingly as you always did? Was it the last time his daughter kissed his right cheek before she left the house? It can’t be, it just can’t turn out like that.

But you deserve so much better. Damn, you are straight up gorgeous, a woman who turns heads on a regular basis. You need more than a crippled man by your side, more than one half of the man you used to know. He wouldn’t even be mad if your eyes lose the spark they hold for him when you see him today.

“I’m leaving now. Something seems to be off. I’m trying to get back by dinner.”

“Why do you have to go this early? I thought we’d have a little time for ourselves. Since our precious little angel is still at kindergarten and I have the afternoon off…”

Your hands roamed around his broad chest, eyes filled with nothing but affection and love. You were always bad at hiding your feelings, your bright orbs being the centre of his universe. God, how much he wanted to lock the door behind you, how much he longed for your touch. But this sounded serious.

“As much as I’d love to take that offer immediately, the young ones need me, (y/n). But I will return as soon as possible and then we’ll finish what you started.”

“Promise it”, you demanded, a small understanding smile decorating your delicate lips while he held your body so tightly against his.

“I promise it. I can’t wait to see you tonight.”

One last longing kiss on your forehead. One last kiss before he left your house with a last “I love you” shouted into thin air.

“Damn”, he hisses through gritted teeth, pain pulsating through his whole body, taking his sight.

What is his life worth without you in it?

-(y/n)’s POV-

“Mommy, I’m scared.”

“Hey, hold your head up high, angel. Everything will turn out alright, okay? Daddy is a hero, after all”, you reassure your daughter softly while secretly wiping away a falling tear.

When Shoko called you a few minutes ago, your feet begin to carry you on their own, heart hammering against your aching chest. Your loving husband, the man who gifted you with the precious daughter who holds your hand tightly. She didn’t tell you what happened to him, how he feels. But her tone was as urgent as never before, making you storm down the dark streets of Tokyo in pouring rain until you finally arrived at Jujutsu High, opening the well-known doors to the hospital wing with trembling hands.

Please, let him be alright. Maybe injured, but alive. Maybe distressed, but all in all fine.

Please, let your husband be alright.

You wander down the cold hallways, eyes roaming around the area in a desperate attempt to spot your husband somewhere between the countless injured people. Where is he? Where did they put him?

Suddenly, your orbs get stuck on a wave of pink hair.

“Yuji?” you breathe out.

“Mommy, there’s Yuji!”, the excited voice of your little daughter next to you cries out, already on her way to storm towards the pink-haired boy.

You can’t hold back. Out of instinct you follow her tiny feet, embracing the boy in front of you in a tight hug.

“Please tell me you’re alright, tell me you feel well”, you whisper into his ear.

In an instant, tears start to swell up his eyes, soaking through the fabric of your elegant autumn dress. Your heart shatters into a million pieces, hands gently stroking through his hair.

“I’m not. I’m far away from feeling well, (y/n)”, he cries against your neck, letting himself fall completely against your frame.

Oh Yuji. You hate to see him like that, his thick tears falling like the pouring rain outside.

“I’m sorry for letting Nanami-sensei down, I’m sorry for all the things I did, I-“

“Don’t talk any further. I’m sure you did your best, Yuji. And I know Kento is very proud of you. Please, get some rest now, okay? Did Shoko already check on you? Hey, do you want to stay with me tonight?”

“You can sleep in my room!” your daughter suggests in an instant, hugging Yuji’s leg while looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Thank you, I’m okay. You should look after Nanami-sensei. After all you’re here because of him and not because of me, right?”

“I will always look after you, Yuji. But yes, I’d really like to see my husband right now”, you reply tenderly.

“Is my dad alright?”

“He’s in room 018 down the hall. Please…tell him I’m sorry”, Yuji mutters.

“There is nothing to be sorry about, thank you for your help, Yuji. Come on darling, let’s go see daddy.”

You let out your shaky breath, hand holding onto the doorknob. Finally. You will definitely pay Yuji a visit later on. But know, you have to focus on him. Finally, you’re able to see your husband again.

“Kento, I’m here-“

“Don’t look at me. Get out and never come back”, his harsh voice instructs you.

There he sits, back faces towards you will a white cloak covering his upper body. Your mind begins to race, his punitive tone being to unusual. Not even when discussing, your husband ever turned this cold. What has gotten into him?

“Hi daddy!” your daughter greets her father with all excitement.

His heart breaks in an instant. Why? Why on earth do you have to be here? And why did you have to bring your daughter with you? Why do you have to see him like that?

“I am not the man you fell in love with anymore, (y/n).”

The bitterness in his voice makes you squint your eyes while walking towards him.

“What are you talking about, Kento? I might love you even more after you survived this hell”, you reply in an instant.

“Daddy, what happened to your face?”

Like in slow motion he turns around, revealing severe burns on the left side of his body and his eye covered in bandages. Your heart skips a beat. Oh god, what happened to your poor husband?

“Who did this to you, love?”

“It doesn’t matter how or who. But I understand that I’m not the man you married anymore. I am only half of the man I used to be. So if you want to leave me behind, if you want to take care of our daughter alone-“

He is forced to stop mid-sentence by the way his little daughter presses her tiny body onto his lap, hugging him as tightly as never before. And your gaze that makes time stand still. Your gaze that isn’t filled with disgust like he imagined.

No, your look holds nothing but love and gratitude.

“You can’t imagine how happy I am to see that you are well. When Shoko called me I thought we’ll might lose you. Kento, I…I love you with all my heart. The thought of letting you go, the thought of never seeing you again. I’m so glad.”

And then you sprint towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck carefully with your loving gaze never leaving him.

All pain seems to vanish, nothing else but you matter. Your eyes always tell the truth, he knows all too well. And right now, they scream at him in nothing put the pureness of love while a tear runs down your smiling delicate mouth.

“Now you look like a hero, daddy”, his daughter mumbles against his chest, smiling up at him so widely that even Kento Nanami can’t hold back any longer.

“Because he is, sweetheart. Your dad is a hero”, you clarify with shaky voice, pressing a kiss against his right cheek.

“You aren’t disgusted? Even though I look nothing like the man you fell in love with an never will?”, you mutters.

Gently, your hand caresses his uninjured cheek.

“Nothing will ever distress my love for you. No scar in the world will stop me from loving you with all my heart. I’m so glad you came back to me alive. Nothing else matters.”

“I think you look cool, daddy!”

A single tear rolls down his cheek. For the first time in his life, he isn’t able to keep his composure any longer. A tear of joy, a tear of gratitude. Of course, Nanami was always very aware of what a wonderful woman you are and how well you cared for his little daughter as well. But oh, seeing both of you with your arms wrapped around him, gazing at him with nothing but love and tenderness in your orbs…

Your eyes never lied at him.

How does he even deserve this? How does a simple man like Kento Nanami deserve such a loving wife and daughter made of pure gold?

“We need a cool name for you now, daddy.”

“Daddy first needs all his energy to get well again, sweetheart. But yes, you are right. After all, every hero has a special name, right?”, you reply, chuckling over your very own falling tears.

“I’m not a hero, darling”, Nanami contradicts, running his hand through his daughter’s hair softly.

“But to me you are, daddy. And to mommy too.”

“Indeed. And when all of this is over, I’ll take you to Malaysia”, you confirm, cuddling against his chest while resting your eyes.

“Malaysia, huh? Sounds great…”

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96

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sturnsdoll · 8 months ago

Text

SWEETER THAN CANDY -`♡´- - C.S

idea creds

pairing: chris x fem reader

summary: chris finds a rather creative way to teach you patience.

warnings: smut obvi, swearing, (very little) plot, light bondage, candy g-string, oral (f recieving), heavy teasing, dom!chris, sub!reader, orgasm denail, begging, degrading, praise, slight dumbification, cum eating(??), back scratching (?), choking

word count: 2,332

authors note: hope you enjoy ♥

"orange" = chris "pink" = reader

your boyfriend chris had been busy all day with filming with his brothers, shopping, a meeting for his brand and what felt like a million other things.

one of those million other things had been him trying to keep you from losing your mind waiting for him to be free. you hadn't seen your boyfriend in a few days and the impatience of wanting not only his love, but his touch, was driving you to insanity.

text after text, call after call. chris was sick of telling you he'd be free at 12 and that you just needed to be patient.

it was currently 12:05 and chris was filming a car video with nick and matt. his phone buzzes for what feels like the millionth time tonight.

you toss your phone down next to you with a sigh.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

1:07 AM

half asleep, you're finally in the triplets parking lot to pick up chris so you can bring him back to your place. after a few long minutes of waiting you look to the passenger side of your car, spotting chris heading over.

when he enters the car, there's a bit of a slam to the way he closes the door but you choose to ignore it. you smile brightly at chris "feels like i've been waiting forever for you i-" "do you still have the thing i got from the store last week?"

you're confused by the question and a little taken aback that he didn't greet you. although there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that makes you clench your thighs. "no hi? hello? chris i've been waiting all day.." you go to wrap your arms around his neck but he grabs both your wrists. "wrong. you've been an impatient brat all day. now is it still here or not?"

it takes you a minute to even think of what the hell he's reffering to. that's when you remember chris had bought a candy g-string at the store last week when his brothers hadn't been watching the two of you. you thought it was more of a joke that he had gotten it though, not really expecting to use it.

your eyebrows knit together in confusion. you look at where his fingers are wrapped around your wrists before looking up at in hiw eyes again "yea, it's on the backseat still chris but i-" he cuts you off again, not wanting to hear it. "good. go find somewhere private to park. better be close though" "seriously? what's wrong with you?"he drops your wrists and gives you a dead serious look. "now." the tone of his voice makes you decide to put the car in drive.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you found an empty parking lot out back of a closed fast food place. the whole drive there chris's hand squeezed at your thigh harshly and anytime you tried to ask what his problem was he'd just tell you to keep your mouth closed and drive. which you did.

now that you were here, you opened your mouth to question his antics but he didn't let you get the chance. that angry yet needy look glosses over his eyes again "get in the back n' put it on" he says with a quick hand motion toward the backseats. you raise your eyebrow at him ready to protest but he wasn't having it. "do i need to repeat myself baby?"

you pause for a second before shaking your head no and doing as you were told.

now, only in your cropped t-shirt and the candy garment, you watch curious and nervous as chris removes his belt. "hands above your head" he commands and you listen. he brings your wrists behind the head of the car seat, binding them together with his belt.

"i think.." chris starts as he moves to his knee's infront of you "that for whatever fucking reason" he spreads your legs "you think it's okay to start acting out when you don't get what you want when you want it" his tone gets you wetter than you already were. you can't help the smile that spreads on your face at the satisfaction of having gotten the rise out of your boyfriend that you were hoping for. if only you knew how much you'd regret it only a few minutes from now.

chris catches the sly little smirk on your face. this makes him smile back, only his is much more menacing. "oh you think you're getting what you want huh?" he says. you shrug, staring back at him smugly. "we'll see." he says, mocking your text from earlier before he his mouth latches onto your left thigh.

his mouth moves smoothly, leaving a small trail of purple marks up your thigh. when he gets to your candy covered cunt he hovers teasingly for a moment before switching to the other thigh. you sigh impatiently, earning a threatning glare from chris.

this time when chris makes it to your heat his teeth close in on a candy just above your clit, mouth is so close yet so far. he bites the candy before eating it excrutiatingly slowly. once he's done he flattens his tongue against the front of the candies, shortly giving you the smallest amount of pleasure as he drags it up to where the waistline of the g-string is.

his teeth latch onto another candy but this time he pulls back, bringing the candy clad garment away from you. he quickly releases his teeth from it, letting it snap back against you.

you jump a little at the unexpected sting. chris smirks at your reaction before his mouth goes for another candy that's sitting right over your clit again. "chris come on" you complain but he stays focused on consuming the little candies.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

you squirm in the seat, wrists uncomfortably wriggling against his belt as he sucks on another candy, his lips just barely brushing where you need him. it's been almost ten minutes now and you're soaked and needy, clenching around nothing everytime his lips or tongue accidentally ghost you.

"chris m' sorry i need you please" you attempt to beg, pushing your hips toward his face. he wraps both his arms around your thighs to hold them down and apart. "should've thought about that before whining and complaining all day hm?" he taunts before his teeth grip another candy "n' stop squirming" he says through gritted teeth while he sucks on the sugary candy.

this goes for a couple more minutes before he pulls away to look up at your face. you look just about ready to cry from sexual frustration. he smirks as he rubs your thigh soothingly. "what do you want baby?" his hand snakes up to your waist to pull the candy string back and let it snap against your skin again. you wince before speaking "your mouth, fingers, anything. please" not caring how needy you sound you beg him desperately. over the candies, chris presses two fingers over your hole. the feeling of the cold candies against you instinctively makes you attempt to pull your hips back but there's really nowhere for you to go.

he wraps his fingers around the garment and pulls it to the side before his head dissapears between your thighs. he gives an experimental flick to your clit before diving in to suck and nibble on your sensitive bud.

you throw your head back, a nearly pornagraphic moan comes out at the pure relief. to make things easier for himself he gives a harsh tug to the part of the candied underwear he was holding, causing the string to snap. candy spills off most of the garment and it goes all over the floor of your car. you instinctively try to reach out to pick up the candies or somehow stop the mess but your wrists only strain against the material of his belt again. "chris!" you whine annoyidly.

you're quickly silenced by two fingers teasing your folds. wetness coats his digits without them even being in you. "did i really get you this worked up, sweetheart?" he asks before holding his fingers up to your mouth "open". you comply and are immedietly met with his fingers pressing down on your tongue."taste sweeter than candy don't you?" he asks rhetorically before unexpectedly latching his mouth back to your clit. you cry out when he adds his two fingers along with it.

his tongue switches between flicking, sucking and nibbling so often that you can't even keep up with what form of pleasure he's applying. his fingers pump in and out at an extremely rapid pace that makes your hips twitch. the windows are foggy and the air in the car is heavy from both your heavy breaths.

your mouth hangs open as incoherent words and whines spill. he lets your clit go with a wet pop. his fingers continue. he pulls his head back a little to watch the way your body reacts to him, the way your face contorts in pleasure. you're already clenching around his digits. his fingers push deeper and curl up into that one spot that makes your mind go numb. "mph- m' close" you mutter out between desperate whines. "yea? you wanna cum on my fingers?"

you open your mouth to say yes when suddenly he pulls his fingers out, shoving them in your mouth again. "suck" he tells you while simultaniously reaching up to release your wrists.

with glossy eyes you look at him and suck your juices off his fingers. once he retracts his fingers you pull him in by his shirt to press your lips to his. the kiss is full of tongue and teeth. needy. he climbs onto the seat next to you before adjusting you until you're beneath him. his hips press down into yours making you both whine. you push your hips toward his. he pulls his face back to look at you consideringly. looking at him through your lashes you reach between the two of you to massage his erection through his pants "please." your voice is needy but sweet. "yea? wanna be a good girl and let me fuck you?" he asks while moving to take his sweatpants off. you nod with a sickeningly sweet smile as he finishes removing his clothes.

once he's situated, he makes a point of dragging his tip teasingly along your folds. you go to complain but he knows you too well. "uh uh. remember what that mouth did to get you here in the first place" he reminds. "well techinically it wasn't my mouth since it started over text so- mph!" one hand covers your mouth as he uses the other to balance himself while he thrusts his length into you.

he watches you in awe as he slowly pulls back out "not another word out of you" his hips snap right back. everytime he fucks into you, you're crying out into his hand. his speed starts steady and slow but that lasts no longer than a minute before he's messily pounding into you. you wrap one hand around the wrist of his hand that covers your mouth. your other creates deep red marks down his back, nails dragging and grabbing for some kind of support.

at this point everything that comes from his mouth are all mindless filthy comments. "gonna- mm- make sure that i f-fuck the rest of that attitude outta y-you" he assures as he abuses your cervix repetitievly. clenching around his dick at his filthy words causes his head to drop, a moan slipping his lips. even when his pace is sloppy he doesn't dissapoint, continuing reaching deep inside you with every movement.

it's not long before your minds set on wanting to finish. you reach between the two of you to stimulate your clit but chris swats it away. one hand shutting you up still, he uses his other to rub fast circles on your sensitive bud. you whine and he does too from the way your nails dig deeper into his skin.

his thrusts become sloppier and his fingers work faster. you try to speak but between him fucking you and his hand over your mouth it's impossible. luckily for you he knows by the way your breath is becoming shallow that you're close.

"not until i say so" when his hips begin twitching he slides his hand from your mouth to your neck to steady himself. "jesus chris" you manage to whine as you drink in the air, still slightly restricted by his hand on your throat. your legs tense around his body and you both know you can't hold off much longer.

"you wanna cum sweetheart?" you nod, letting out a soft "yes" breathlessly. "then ask me. gotta make sure you've- mm fuck- learned your lesson" he looks in your eyes with a look of admiration at how pretty and fucked out you are for him. "wanna cum so bad, m' sorry for compla- ah oh god" you don't get to finish as he grabs under your knee and spreads you wider, managing to hit deeper inside you "i'm sorry for complaining, pleasee let me cum" you draw out the please in a innocently convincing way. "listen so well. go ahead"

as soon as you have his permission your lower stomach twists inside as your legs clench right around his waist. all it takes is one more thrust and you're dripping around his cock. chris curses out your name with a string of obsceneties as your orgasm triggers his. he makes sure you both completely ride out your highs before he pulls out and retracts his fingers from your poor clit.

you both take what seems like years to catch a normal pace to breath at. chris reaches to the floor, obtaining both your clothes. "shower when we get home?" chris asks you as he becomes aware of the sticky residue of both cum and candy left on your body.

"absaloutely."

Tags: @ezziewinchester @sturnsblog @mattsrod @blue-for-percyjackson

#chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #strnzslut #christopher sturniolo #sturnsdoll

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maeedrg · 19 days ago

Text

OUR LITTLE SECRET

University professors Gojo & Geto X Fem Reader

ᯓ★

Synopsis : in which reader is a 22 years old uni student that has a big fat crush on her professors, Gojo and Geto. After all, a lot of people on campus fawn over them. Why wouldn’t you too ? As a class president, you end up passing more and more time with them, the line in between professionalism and something more is slowly blurred. Are they flirting ? Or just being nice ?

Words count : 13.6 k

Warnings : age difference, the fic is problematic, smut, threesome, foreplay, reader is afab, reader drinks alcohol and smokes cigarettes, Satoru and Suguru are kinda mean, squirting, chocking, half public sex.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : Yeah, I don’t know why I wrote that… anyways, hope you guys still like it. It’s my first time writing about Geto too. English is not my first language, so sorry for the mistakes.

｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆｡⋆✧⋆˚｡⋆⋆ ｡⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚｡⋆♡⋆｡⋆ ˚｡⋆⊹⋆

One year and a half. One more fucking year and a half before you graduate college and your major. You were excited, maybe more than you should be. Well, the reason was not the one your family and friends expected. That was your little secret, one in between you and two other individuals. Cut to the chase, the big part of the reason was simple : once you would be free of the title of “student”, nothing else could hold you back in wooing your two teachers from whom you had the biggest fat crush ever.

How couldn’t you ? Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were the hottest teachers of your damn campus. Since day one, when you arrived here, some years ago, you couldn’t help but be like any other of their fangirls and fanboys : thirsting over them. Nothing more, nothing else. You expected nothing in return, they were your professors. Even though they weren’t really professors with no teacher diploma, -but specialists in their major coming to teach other people-, they were doing an amazing job at it. You could maybe fantasize a bit more than your other fellow classmates, when you got assigned as class president of your course with Gojo. You ended up talking more with him, relaying infos he would give you to the rest of the class, and even having small reunions with him to discuss topics about the course or other important things, like grades, exams, or problems in between students.

Gojo always had this carefree smirk plastered on his face, having this kind of atmosphere around him that made you feel like you weren’t talking to your professor, but to a friend or a classmate. After all, you were 22, and he was 28. Some people in your class were older than you, a few of them having the same age as your young professor. So the small age gap didn’t help in making you even more confused by the way he was addressing to you.

Geto, on the other hand, was less carefree than his best friend, having more seriousness as a teacher. Nonetheless, he had this sort of nonchalant aura, and you knew damn well, that aside from his calm and composed face, the black haired professor was slyer than you thought. Aside from your classes with him, you ended up being class president too in his course with another friend of yours. You had the golden duo in your hands, and that made some of your classmates jealous to see you spending more time than them with the hottest teacher on campus. Nothing serious, though. After all, you were just an invested student in their eyes, and they were you professors. Right ?

Well, here goes the reason why you couldn’t wait to graduate to woo them : in the past, you never predicted the growing interest they would have, and how the fine line in between professor and student got blurry through time.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

You were walking in the big left wing corridor of the campus, holding some files in your hands that you had to bring to professor Geto. It was needed for your next class with him, that would start in 15 minutes more exactly. You walk confidently, saying hi to fellow friends in another major passing by. At the same time, you saw a crowd of people gathered in front of the door of a class. Curious, you raise an eyebrow and speed up, wondering what was happening.

Ah. Your curiosity stops immediately when you realize that it simply was Professor Gojo surrounded by students, trying to have a conversation with him. It’s not like it was difficult, the white haired man was very talkative, and it was well known that it annoyed another one of your professors named Nanami. Gojo had his usual cocky smile, black sunglasses sliding down his nose as he hums before answering the question of a student. Him being so tall, it was damn easy to spot him in this sea of people. You walk faster, but then his piercing blue eyes raise from behind his glasses, and meet yours no matter how many people are around. Not knowing what to do, nor wanting to disturb him, you just smile politely and look back to the files in your hands, continuing to walk.

“Y/n ! My favorite class president, I need your help,” a voice exclaims behind you, and before you can react, a strong arm slides around your shoulders bringing you closer to your teacher. You raise your head, not expecting for Professor Gojo to pop at your side when two seconds ago he was surrendered by people. How did he even manage to do that ?

“Professor ? I was about to bring these files to Professor Geto, so…,” you start to say, slightly flustered by the way he was holding your shoulders. Well, it was known by most students that Gojo didn’t really know anything about personal space, being a bit too friendly instead of keeping his professionalism. But that’s what made him so carefree, and appreciated by most students. Even if you were used to his behavior, starting your third year here and being at his classes, you couldn’t help but feel heat in your stomach each time he innocently touched you. No matter how quick and friendly it was.

“Geto ? Perfect, it was on my way, anyways,” he gives you this big smile, tilting his head on the side as he continues to walk by your side. You look behind you, and realize that most of the crowd disappeared, and some students were watching you with envy. You look back at him.

“Oh, alright,” you nod saying that, smelling the cologne of your professor filling your nose. God, he smelled sweet. You quickly look away, trying to hide your crush on him. It was near impossible sometimes, even more when he was acting like this with you. Did he notice anything ?

“You almost nailed the last math exam, I finished reading it,” he suddenly says as he munches on his minty chewing-gum, straightening back up and sliding his hands in his pockets instead.

“Almost ?” you ask, frowning your eyebrows. He gives you a glance, and nods, nudging you.

“Hmm, nothing bad. You just didn’t quite understand the last lesson with the new formulas. Maybe I should give you some quick tutoring next time you help me with classifying the course books, yeah ?” Gojo proposes, raising his eyebrows as he looks at you.

You think about it, and look in front of you to hide your reaction. You already had some teacher in the past helping you out when messing up something in class, taking extra time to explain it to you again. It wouldn’t be anything different with Professor Gojo, right ? You were just delusional to think the contrary.

“That would be nice, thank you. What was the thing you needed my help for, anyways ?” you ask as you approach the classroom of Geto’s course. Finally. Gojo stops in front of it, facing you and smiling.

“Nah, I lied. Just wanted to have an excuse to stop answering all the questions the first years were asking me. It got too personal, even though I like to talk about myself,” he blows his chewing-gum bubble while answering, tilting his head on the side, gazing at you.

“Oh- yeah, I get it,” you chuckle, a bit nervously. It was hard to stay focused because of the way his eyes were on you. It was intimidating.

“Thanks, y/n. See ya’ next class.” He waves, winking at you, and walks away. You take a deep breath, calming yourself down and cursing yourself for acting like a teenager that had a silly crush on their teacher.

You open the door with one hand, closing it behind you without looking inside. You have goosebumps at the coldness of the class, before turning around and realizing that the window was open. Professor Geto was nonchalantly smoking, a cigarette slipped in between his lips before his purple eyes met yours. You catch your breath in your throat.

“Oh, y/n, that’s you. You got the documents ? Thanks,” he approaches you and grabs the files. He eyes you down, his black hair half tied in a bun. Smoking wasn’t allowed inside the buildings, so it was quite shocking to see your teacher that is usually serious about the rules of the campus breaking them like that.

“You’re welcome,” you answer, unsure on how to react.

“That’s our little secret, don’t tell anyone that I’m smoking, it’s prohibited. I trust you, okay ?” he asks with a small lazy smile, the intensity of his gaze on you making you shyer than you thought. He steps back and goes to the window to finish his cigarette.

“Yeah, but I expect that if I break a rule and you catch me, you would keep it a secret too,” you coyly reply. You didn’t know where this cockiness came from, maybe because spending too much time with Gojo after his classes helping him out, resulted in you mimicking his behavior.

Geto stops in his track, and before answering he blows out his smoke through his nose, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m your teacher, I’m not supposed to let you freely break rules, you know ?” he retorts, staring right back at you as you still stand a bit awkwardly at the door.

“I know, but…”

“Alright, if I catch you smoking like I do, I wouldn’t scold you. But I still don’t want to see my supposed innocent student getting herself into that,” he continues, interrupting you as he inhales some smoke before finishing his cigarette and throwing it in the depth of the small trash next to his desk.

You swallow your saliva, shaking your hand at his words. You weren’t innocent, but the way he said it made it sound like he meant clearly something else.

“I already smoked before,” you retort. He smirks slightly before letting the window open to take off the lingering smell of cigarette and walk back to his desk.

“That’s too bad, don’t do it again, it’s not good for your health,” he answers as he takes the files and organizes them on his table, briefly looking at you and then back at the papers.

“Yet, professor, you do it too,” you state, sitting at a chair in front of one of the empty desks. After all, class would soon start. He smirks at your boldness, looking at you.

“Hmm, but it’s different. As your professor, I still have some sense of responsibility with my students. I wouldn’t want to let you smoke on my watch,” he answers, taping the wood of the table with his fingers. You look at it, and then back at his purple eyes.

“I wouldn’t, probably. But then, that’s a deal. I won’t tell that you were smoking inside the classroom,” you finish, biting the inside of your mouth as he looks at you doing so.

“Good, thanks y/n. I can always count on you.” His smiles stretch, and you couldn’t help but fluster a bit at how pretty and charming he looked. Not long after, class started.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

This afternoon you were helping out your teacher grabbing some needed books in the library for his next class. Gojo was way taller than you, allowing him to reach the highest shelves. In the quietness of the library, barely any students present, you look around searching for one specific book in the left aisle. As you go on your tiptoes to grab it, you feel the presence of someone behind you, and a palm landing on your shoulder.

“Let me do it for ya,” whispers your teacher, winking at you behind his glasses and lifting his arm to grab what you were looking for. As he does so, his muscles move, making his chest brush against your back. You suck up a breath, and raise your head to look at his cheeky grin.

“Here you go,” he says, giving it to you and you take it in your hand.

“Thanks,” you breathe out, feeling heat all over your face and your heart hammering in your rib cage. When meeting his eyes, you can’t help but feel intimidated, even more by this proximity.

“Only three more to go, and we are all done, y/n,” He winks at you, shaking the paper with the list on it in front of your face. The way he rolls down your name on his tongue and his hand still on your shoulder makes you look away from his gaze.

“That will be quick,” you answer and he hums, and then softly pushes you towards the next aisle and bookshelves, his hand still on you.

“All thanks to you. You do your job well,” he compliments you as you try to search for the next needed book, eyes scanning around.

“That’s normal, I’m not the class president for nothing,” you confirm, smiling slightly at his praise. He backs down and goes back to searching for the next books.

“Yeah, but in the past, when I was a student too, I was the worst class president they could have. Yet, my classmates voted for me. I’m just comparing myself to you,” he explains, a small smile on his face as he remembers his past as a college student. It wasn’t too long ago, Gojo was barely 28 after all.

You look at him surprised, trying to imagine your teacher as a student, and you couldn’t help but wonder that if he was the same age as you and a college student, would you be his friend ? Or maybe more… You shake your head, that was stupid to think so.

“No way, really ?”

“Yeah, even if I had good grades, it annoyed me to death to do all these boring tasks, so it impresses me to see a student like you being so serious about it and doing it perfectly. I gotta’ admire you for that, if I’m being honest, y/n,” he admits, looking at you up and down in quite a long way, his gaze lingering. You feel giddy at the compliment.

“Now that you say it, professor, it’s hard to imagine the contrary,” you chuckle slightly.

“I was a troublemaker with Suguru, uh- I mean professor Geto,” he adds as he grabs one of the books you needed, and you pause in your search to look at him, even more surprised.

“Troublemakers ? I didn’t expect professor Geto to be a troublemaker, he seems so…”

“Calm ? Yeah, don’t get fooled by that. And yes, we do almost everything together, get in trouble together, and share quite anything together. You see ?” he cuts you off, completing your sentence. But the way he said the word share made you shiver slightly, feeling his eyes on you.

“That’s funny to know, to be honest,” you whisper and smile to yourself, finally finding the last book you needed to check on the list.

Lost in thoughts, you try to imagine Gojo and Geto causing trouble. Not gonna lie, it made them look hotter in your head, forcing yourself to not bite your lip mindlessly. You tried to visualize Geto as a troublemaker, and remember how he was smoking inside the classroom last time. It wasn’t too hard to imagine, after that. Now you knew that you had more material to fantasize about your attractive teachers… But as you continue to think, you don’t realize that one of the high books stumbles and falls right towards your head. Before it could hit you, Gojo grabs it swiftly, and wraps his arm around your waist to make you step back. Your body hits his chest, and you look at him eyes wide open.

“Be careful, y/n. Wouldn’t want ya to get hurt on my watch,” he chuckles, his chest rumbling against you. You could feel the warmth of his body through your clothes, and that made you even more nervous in his presence. His breath slightly hits your nape, making you shiver.

“I’m sorry, thank you, ahah,” you awkwardly answer, not knowing how to react. One more second passes, before he steps back and lets you breathe again.

“We got all the books, how about I give you the tutoring like I proposed last day ?” he asks, winking at you, holding now more than a half of the manuals you went to search in the library.

“If that doesn’t bother you, yes,” you try to gain back your composure, stopping your thoughts from imagining more things.

“Why would it ? I still have time to kill. Anyways, perfect, let’s go !” he muses as he puts his free hand on your back to push you towards the exit.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

It’s been 15 minutes since you were sitting in the empty classroom of Gojo, receiving his tutoring and corrections about your last exam. It was helping you greatly, him being nonetheless a very good teacher no matter how unserious and silly he could act in general. His advices were just right, and he could easily pinpoint your weaknesses in a topic to help you through it and improve. When it was about working hard in his class, he wasn’t lenient. Yet, the way he was helping you out, made you feel like it was favoritism. Was it right for the other students, wasn’t it slightly unfair ?

You don’t have time to ponder more when the door opens, and closes right after the person enters. You raise your head, only to see professor Geto entering the class with a cup of coffee in his hand, and some soda in his other. He looks surprised to see you here, walking towards the both of you.

“Am I interrupting something ?” he asks as he gives the soda can to your white haired teacher that grabs it smiling, stretching his body, making his shirt ride up slightly and showing some of his skin.

“Nah, was just tutoring miss y/n right here,” he answers, giving you a glance, sipping on his soda. Meanwhile, Geto does too on his coffee, and walks behind you to look at the math formula you were writing down on paper.

“Hmm, too bad. If I knew, I would have brought you something too, y/n,” answers the black haired one, his purple eyes meeting yours as he gives you this lazy smile that always made you have butterflies in your stomach.

“Ah, no, it’s alright professor ! No need to, thank you though,” you shake your head, chuckling a bit shy by his act of kindness. Fuck, why were you loosing all your personality whenever you were in their presence ? Was it your nervosity ? Probably, and that pissed you off.

“Come on y/n, you’ve been working hard. You need some reward,” insists Gojo, tapping his pencil against your exercises written on your notebook, referring to it. His blue eyes bore into you, and his smirk widens as he slides his glasses on top of his head.

“I don’t want you to spend money on me, that would feel wrong,” you retort, and Geto chuckles before taking a chair and dragging it next to the table, sitting on it lazily, legs parted.

“It’s alright. You can take a sip of my coffee if you prefer,” proposes your professor, tilting his head to the side to emphasize his question, showing with his chin the drink in his hand. You look at it, not knowing what to answer.

“Or my soda,” coos Gojo, crossing his arms on his chest and looking at you choosing.

Gojo was already helping you out with your difficulties from the last lesson, so you preferred to hold a favor to Geto by sipping on his drink. You didn’t even know why you accepted, taking the coffee in your hands. What kind of teacher proposes that to their students ? You didn’t know, and you were too nervous to actually think straight.

“Thanks,” you mutter before bringing the cup to your lips under the burning gaze of Geto, and gulp down some coffee. You thought you saw him looking at your lips doing so, did you imagine it ? You didn’t even like coffee that much, but you still did it. It was bitter, and you did a small grimace. It makes the black haired one smirks more by watching you suffer slightly. Gojo chuckles.

“You should have drunk my soda,” he hums, and you couldn’t agree more, but kept it for yourself.

“It’s alright, it didn’t taste that… bad,” you try to answer, even though the taste was still lingering on your tongue.

“It’s not for everyone, yeah,” he adds, taking back the drink, his fingers slightly touching yours.

“You don’t mind taking a small break, y/n ?” asks Gojo as he closes back the manual, suddenly putting his legs on the table without a care in the world, crossing his arms behind his head and looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

“I don’t, I started to be a bit tired anyways,” you answer, looking at the long legs of your teacher in his carefree attitude.

“Hey, don’t be a douchebag and act like that in front of our student,” complains Geto, glaring slightly at your other professor. Gojo rolls his eyes, looking back at you by turning his head towards you.

“She doesn’t mind, it’s just us right now. Right, y/n ?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and his blue eyes holding your gaze. You swallow your saliva, and smile a bit nervously.

“No, it’s refreshing.” That’s what you answered. After all, it was true. Seeing your teacher act like that made him look more… human, rather than just your professor.

“Then if you don’t, I'll smoke a bit,” answers Geto as he glances at you before standing up, and walks towards the window to open it.

“Make sure no other student can come in then, Suguru,” answers Gojo casually by calling him by his first name, taking out his phone and scrolling on it. After all, they were friends. Yet, it felt strangely intimate to see them drop the act in front of you and be suddenly so casual. At the same time Suguru closes the door, locking it in a soft click. He grabs a cigarette from his pocket, and a lighter, before putting it in between his lips, walking back to the window.

“I count on you again, y/n,” he says as the flame shines on his face, lightening the cigarette. Then, you see smoke creating around his mouth and the end of the cigarette, before being blown away in the wind. You nod, answering a “no problem”.

“No way ! Don’t tell me you make her keep the secret, Sugu’. You’re sneaky,” laughs Gojo, lifting his head to look at his best friend who rolls his eyes.

“She knows how to keep secrets, hmm ?” answers Geto, holding your gaze as he blows away the smoke.

“Uh, yeah, yeah. I do. I mean, it’s just smoking... I don’t care,” you answer, shaking your head.

“Oh yeah ? That’s good to know, then,” muses Gojo, putting down his phone as he balances himself on the chair, you were scared that he would fall. He sips on his soda, licking his lips.

“I’m not a snitch,” you add, looking back at your notebook and then closing it.

“I’m curious about something, y/n. It’s not work related. Can I ask ?” suddenly asks Gojo, sitting straight back on the chair and turning to face you, crossing his leg over the left one.

“Of course,” you nod and look back at him.

“Do you have a boyfriend ?” You open your eyes wider, and if you had water in your mouth you would have spilled it. You gulp, letting out a shaky breath, not expecting this question at all.

“Satoru, you’re making her shy,” chuckles Suguru from behind, tapping some of the ashes of the cigarette over the window before inhaling the smoke again

“Is it making you shy ?” he questions again, unable to hide his cheeky smile to form on his pink lips. Was he flirting with you ? No, impossible. Why would the hottest teacher on campus be interested in you ? You persisted in the thought that you were delusional, and tapped the table with your nails to try to stay grounded.

“No, it doesn’t. Why ? Does it have to do with something about classes ? Or work related ?” you interrogate, unsure of the reason behind this question. At the same time, you felt the gaze of Gojo scanning you, humming to himself before his eyes are on your face again and he smiles at you innocently.

“No reason. Just wondering.” He shrugs, glancing at Suguru behind him who was still smoking, looking at the scene unfold before him with interest.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, nor girlfriend,” you end up answering.

“Ah, is that so ?” He smirks.

You nod, flustered, and not knowing what to answer. Was it alright if a teacher asked you such a thing ? Probably not. But fuck, coming from the two men that you had the biggest crush on since your first year in this university, it made you not give a single care.

“Satoru, look at her, you are making our poor student uncomfortable,” continues the voice of Suguru as he walks towards you once he finished his cigarette. It sounded slightly nagging, and like a mockery to yourself. He stands right behind your chair now.

“What ? ‘M just asking. Can’t I like some gossip ?” he justifies himself.

“Then if I answered, it’s only right if I know both of your answers too,” you mutter louder than you wanted. Yeah, that was the biggest opportunity you could have right now to know more about the hottest teacher on campus. You wanted to know so bad, for years now. There were rumors for a long time, that either they were single, or secretly dating, or having hundreds of hookups. None of it could be confirmed, since Geto and Gojo always made sure to hide their personal life well. So, yes, it was your chance right now.

“Awww, she got us, Suguru,” snickers the white haired one.

“Are you curious, y/n ?” continues Geto. They both stare intently at you.

“I’m not going to lie, yes,” you admit, nodding. You could feel some tension in the air. Maybe you were crossing a line by asking that, but Gojo was the first one to, so it would only be fair. Right ?

“I like your honesty,” purrs Suguru, putting his hand on the back of your chair, towering over you. You could smell his cologne mixed with the scent of cigarettes.

“As a reward for telling us, maybe we should answer too. Don’t you think, Sugu’ ?” They stare at each other, and you could swear it felt like they were communicating telepathically right now, exchanging unspoken words.

“Why not,” ends up answering Geto, shrugging. You anticipate their answer. What if they were dating someone ? It’s not like you had a chance, whatever, but you still hoped the contrary.

“Nah, we aren’t dating anyone, we just like having…” starts to say Satoru.

“Fun,” finishes Suguru.

Oh. The way they said “fun” made a pool of heat create in your lower abdomen. So they were single, and probably hooking up with people ? You bite the inside of your cheek, imagining them having their so-called fun. It was hard to not have any lewd thoughts about your professors now.

“I see…” you answer, nodding. What else could you say aside from that, seriously ?

“You’re not embarrassed, right ?” questions Suguru.

“Uh- no, no,” you half lie.

“We trust you to keep it a secret, y/n, yeah ? We wouldn’t want students to go around starting more rumors,” adds Satoru, his blue eyes fixated on your facial reaction.

“Of course,” you immediately answer, nodding firmly. Well, you still would say it to your best friend that was in another university, but that didn’t count, you thought.

“We already had a bunch of students asking to have sex with us because of rumors 3 years ago. That was troublesome to handle. We wouldn’t want it to happen again, you understand, right ?” continues Suguru, looking at you from above, giving you his unreadable smile. You gulp.

“Y-yeah, I get it. No worries,” you confirm slightly tense.

“I told you that she could keep secrets, Satoru,” he says looking at his best friend with a smirk.

“We’ll see,” he grins too, his eyes not leaving you.

“Alright, I’ll let you go back to your tutoring. See you tomorrow, and see you too next class, y/n,” Geto ends up announcing, putting his hand on your shoulder to emphasize his goodbye, making you shudder slightly at the contact before he steps back.

“See ya !” Waves cheerfully Satoru, sipping on his soda as your black haired professor walks away and unlocks the door before opening it, and gives one last glance as he steps out.

Shortly after, you went back to your lesson, still disturbed by what happened. You couldn’t stop thinking about how they acted and what they said.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

You just finished class, and these past days you’ve been stressed as ever. In between trying to keep up with classes, and in between the way you were on your toes everytime professor Gojo or Geto spent “innocent” time with you, them addressing you more like a friend rather than a student, you were damn tired. After all, you couldn’t help but wonder if these interactions with them through the weeks were just you being delusional, or if something was really going on.

You sigh, closing your jacket and stepping outside of the building. With all this stress burning you up, you just wanted to smoke, or maybe you secretly hoped to cross by professor Geto. Even if it was your little secret in between you and him that he was smoking inside his classroom, you nonetheless saw him at the smoking area during the quiet hours of the day when nobody else was around.

In this cold weather, you put your hands in the pockets of your coat to warm your poor frozen fingers, and walk towards the area. Great, he wasn’t there. You sigh, a bit disappointed, but still take out the cigarette from the pack and slide it in between your lips. You then search your lighter, but quickly frown when you realize that you didn’t find it, nor in your pockets, nor in your bag. You groan, but then suddenly a flame appears in front of your eyes and lights your cigarette. You open your eyes wider, only to meet the purple ones of Geto. Surprised, you fluster, and could feel your face heating up.

“Professor ? Thank you,” you murmur, inhaling the smoke and blowing it away, looking at his nonchalant gaze on you.

“Smoking ? That’s bad, y/n, but I promised to not scold you,” he says as he looks at the way the cigarette consumes itself, and how the smoke lingers in the air. He keeps his hands in his pockets, stepping back to let you some personal space, unlike Gojo.

“That’s right, and you are here too to smoke, right ?” you answer logically, that was the smoking area after all, so nothing surprising for him to be here.

“Hmmm. ‘Saw you smoking, I thought why not join you. It’s the first time I see you doing that,” he explains, leaning against the wall behind him, turning his head towards you. You spin around to face Geto, and he already has a cigarette in between his lips too.

You nod, slightly nervous to be left alone with him with nothing else to do. Usually you can occupy yourself with helping him with some documents, or things related to class. But not right now, and it was the worst moment to have your head empty of any discussion ideas. Fuck, it pisses you off.

“No need to be so uptight, you’re not in class right now,” he chuckles softly, trying to light his cigarette, but because of the wind, it’s near impossible.

“I’m just not used to it,” you whisper as you look at the flame struggling to work. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and then you approach him.

“Wait, let me help, I’ll just-” you whisper, and then press the end of your cigarette against the end of his, helping him to lighten it as he inhales. Some sparks make it work, and it’s only then that you realize how close you are to his face, and his eyes are on you all the time. His dark lashes are longer than you thought, and his pupils expand in the purple of his irises. You directly step back, embarrassed.

“Thanks, y/n,” he grins, blowing away the smoke out of his mouth. You simply nod and continue to inhale to smoke against the wall next to him, your arm brushing his. You don’t know what have gotten into you when doing that, but damn, that was sexy as fuck. Why did he have to be your university teacher ? !

“Satoru is not too annoying with you, right ? Sometimes he acts too friendly, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable just because he can’t mind his own business,” he starts to say, tilting his head to the side to look at you, and you see how his adam apple moves as he talks.

“Satoru ? Oh, yeah, professor Gojo. No, it’s alright, I’m getting used to it,” you smile slightly. It’s true that since he asked you if you had a boyfriend out of the blue some weeks ago, the more time you both passed together aside from classes, the more he asked you things, and the line in between student and teacher became blurry by the way he was acting with you.

“What did he ask you last time ?”

“If I had a crush on someone on campus, I think he wanted to act like a matchmaker,” you chuckle a bit, remembering the question, not thinking much of it. Suguru hums, silently inhaling on the cigarette, looking at the building some meters away.

“What did you answer, then ?” he asks, gazing at you with an unreadable face. Surprised by his curiosity, you at first don’t answer.

“Uh, I said no… I mean, I’m 22, it’s not like having silly crushes when you are a teenager,” you try to justify yourself, nervous to answer when the two people you had a crush on were the both of them. That was your secret. And they couldn’t know.

“Hmm, is that so ? And why is that ? Don’t you find any of the students here attractive ?” he looks suspicious, but the way the corner of his lips move, it shows he is kinda mocking you, secretly mocking you. Did he know your real answer ? No, he can’t… More like, you hope so.

“Not the students, no,” you shake your head and concentrate on finishing your cig, trying to sound natural, the best you could. But his burning gaze made you feel like being in the spotlight, and that he could know if you were lying or not.

“Teachers, then ?” he suddenly questions, smashing the end of his cigarette on the public ashtray, stepping back in front of you and digging his hands in his pockets.

“Uh, ahah. Even if I did, that wouldn’t be very appropriate, right ?” you scoff, trying to hide how nervous you were at his question, fingers slightly shaking, because of the cold, or the stress.

You were sure that you heard a “what a shame” coming out of his mouth, but, were you really sure ? He smiles, and spins around, waving lazily at you.

“See you next class, y/n, work well on your homework,” he simply announces, walking away and leaving you alone in the smoking area with your unfinished cigarette. You look down at it, and half of it was the ashes ready to fall on the ground. You forgot to smoke it during a good part of the conversation… Damn, he really knew how to make you falter with just some words.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Friday night, after a long week of work, you decided to go out with your friends before your club trip. Indeed, next week, you will be busy organizing with your university club the 2 nights trip in the mountains, thanks to the savings the club made this past months. And surprise : the two teachers that will accompany you there, would be Gojo and Geto. Obviously. It’s like the universe was toying with you, and just thinking about it made you nervous and excited at the same time.

After going out, it started to be late and your friends were tired, saying goodbye to you. You sigh, for you it was too early to go back home, so you decided to at least go drink something by yourself before heading back to your place. You spot your favorite bar, one you were acquainted with, and open the door, stepping inside and leaving the coldness of the street. As you do so, you spot for an empty sit at the desk, and sit on it. You look at the list, wondering what you will drink tonight, when the door of the bar opens again. You turn your head, and gasp when your eyes meet Gojo and Geto, entering it. Your eyes met, and you felt like you were hallucinating. Surprise passes on their face, and then there is a big smile on the face of the white haired one.

“No way ! Y/n, what’s up ? What are you doing here all alone ?” he exclaims, walking towards you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder cheerfully, not believing his eyes.

“Satoru, she is just like us, here to take a drink. It’s a common bar here,” answers Geto, nudging his friend.

“Good evening y/n,” Geto grins at you, standing next to you and then taking off the arm of Satoru around your shoulder, meanwhile he rolls his eyes.

“Oh my- I didn’t expect to see the both of you here, I often come and I never saw you in this bar,” you comment, turning around to face them better in the dim light of the bar. They were in more casual clothes. The hair of Geto is kept down, framing his face and falling on his shoulders. Gojo doesn’t even wear his sunglasses like he used to, letting his blue eyes to your seeing. Looking at them dressing like that, you just wanted to drool at how hot they looked. That was unfair. So unfair.

“I saw on their website that they had very good non alcohol cocktails, I wanted to try it,” explains Gojo as he grabs the card menu, and reads it while licking his lips.

“Are you here with friends ?” asks Suguru, looking at you instead.

“No, they left earlier,” you shake your head answering them.

“You care if we join you, then ?” Gojo smiles, his blue eyes on your face now, staring at your expression.

“Not at all,” you answered quite quickly, and you sounded almost eager. Suguru chuckles, and they both sit next to you on each of your sides. You look left and right, feeling small in between them. You weren’t going to lie, having a drink with them was like a dream coming true.

“Did you order already, y/n ?” questions Suguru, looking at the menu, and humming softly as he thinks about what to take.

“Not yet.”

“Perfect ! Then take anything you want, it’s on us,” exclaims Gojo, winking at you to emphasize what he just proposed. You open slightly your mouth, surprised and touched

“Oh, it’s alright professor, I can-”

“Nuh-uh. We’ll pay, take it as a thank you for all your hard work as a class president,” muses Gojo, leaning his chin on his hand and narrowing his eyes while staring at you. You gulp, and smile a bit dumbly in return.

“Alright, thank you then professor Go-”

“Please, we are in between us, call us by our names,” he stops you mid-sentence, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, we are outside of classes right now. Don’t bother with the formalities, y/n,” adds Geto, and you turn your head to look at him on your right.

“Right… then thank you, Satoru. And thank you, Suguru,” you end up saying, their names feeling weird and new on your tongue. You were flustered to even pronounce these syllables. Their smiles grow wider at your words, and suddenly their presence felt overwhelming, having them so close, able to smell their sweet cologne filling your nose, and the way they looked at you.

“Good,” whispers Satoru.

You all order your drinks, and you sip on the usual cocktail you take when being there. Minutes pass, and the alcohol in your blood makes it easier to freely talk to Satoru and Suguru, breaking the barrier between professor and student. The conversation goes on, and they both know exactly how to make you talk. It just sounded so easy, very easy.

“You don’t take any alcohol, Satoru ?” you ask, finishing your cocktail.

“Nah, I don’t like the taste of it. And I prefer to have a clear head,” he explains.

“Just admit that you are a lightweight, yeah ?” teases Suguru, gulping down half of the end of his beer and putting it down on the counter, smirking.

“I never thought you would be a lightweight !” you laugh, imagining the white haired one unable to keep his mind straight with just one shot of vodka, for example. He pouts, and rolls his eyes.

“Hey, don’t go on and expose my secret, Suguru ! Poor y/n right here, she shouldn’t know that her favorite teacher is like that,” he dramatically retorts, sliding his arm around your shoulder and bringing you even closer, shaking his head.

“What, afraid she’ll start a rumor ?”

“I wouldn’t,” you quickly answer.

“That’s true, Suguru. She did an amazing job at keeping many secrets, like the one that we are single and just like having fun. Right, y/n ?” He grins, his eyes lowering down to look at your face that gets warmer by the blood rushing in it.

“Yeah… that’s no one of my business, after all,” you whisper. Right, you wished that was some of your business. You thought that you could keep dreaming.

“Hmm, we just are consenting adults living our life without causing any harm. Like anybody else, I’m sure even y/n right here has her part of secrets,” adds Suguru, crossing his arms over his chest, his finger lightly tapping against his bicep as his purple eyes scan you.

Oh, that was a rough topic. Both because you felt a bit uncomfortable talking about it with them, second because you were embarrassed : it’s been years since you had “fun”, like they called it. And that was quite frustrating.

“Hey, now it’s you making her uncomfortable, Suguru. Look at her,” he feigns concern saying that, but it felt more like he was having fun. It kinda pissed you off, as if they were treating you like some innocent dumb doll. You weren’t, it felt like mockery coming from their mouths, even though you had no single proof that it indeed was.

“Aw, my bad, y/n. No need to answer,” Suguru answers, raising his eyebrows while taking another sip of his beer.

“No, it’s alright. It’s been a long time since I dated anyone, anyways,” you end up admitting.

“No way, a pretty woman like you ?” Replies Satoru, arm still around your shoulder and eying you up and down.

“What a shame,” continues Suguru.

Are they flirting with you ? Unbelievable, they were just being nice, nothing more, nothing else. Why would they in the first place, anyways ?

“Well, thank you. But no, nobody interested me, and with uni’ it’s hard to find time,” you explain.

“I mean, we are busy too, and Suguru still finds the time to go have fun, for example,” chuckles Gojo, licking his lips after taking a gulp of his cocktail.

“Satoru, would you want me to talk about your fun too, uh ?” retorts the black haired one, giving a small glare to his friend as a silent warning.

“Hey, that would be inappropriate for y/n to know that.” He shakes his head and looks at you from the corner of his eyes, his smile bigger now.

“And it’s you saying that ? Seriously ?”

“Relax, we’re just having a chat. Nothing scandalous happening here. Awww, anyways. Back to the topic : you,” Satoru suddenly talks back to you, his eyes right on yours now.

“Uh, no no. Nothing of that. No… fun either,” you answer as you put down your cocktail.

“Hmmm, I see. What a bummer,” he hums.

“Well, this type of life is not for everyone,” responds Suguru, leaning his head on the back and looking at the ceiling before gazing back at you.

“Maybe.” You didn’t know what to answer else, because you wanted to have this fun with them ! But, that only was in your dreams, the craziest and juiciest ones.

After this, an hour passed where you continued to drink in their company. They, as they said, paid for your consummations. As you walk out of the bar, the cold hitting you like a truck, you look around while they follow you after you.

“Need someone to accompany you home, y/n ?” asks Suguru, his hands in his pockets.

“No need to bother, I’m… fine,” you answer, smiling at him.

“Yeah, right. And let you walk alone being drunk ? No way,” retorts Satoru, his hand on your back as he steps up.

“He’s right, y/n. Unless you prefer that we call you an uber, hmm ?” adds Suguru, standing in front of you as he raises his left eyebrow.

“What ? No, you both already paid for my cocktails, that would be unfair-”

“Then at least one of us will walk you home, it isn't safe at all. Deal,” stats the white haired one, winking at you.

You couldn’t argue more, and you were too tired to, anyways. You ended up getting walked back home by both of your teachers, and that was quite a strange situation. You were sure that if the people of the campus heard about it, they would go crazy. You bite your lower lip, giggling in your head at the idea. Once you are in front of the door of your apartment building, safe and sound, they wave you goodbye.

“See you on monday, y/n,” Satoru purrs, sliding his arm around the shoulder of Suguru as they turn around, giving you his signature smile.

“Take care,” finishes Suguru softly, before walking off.

You look at them doing so, your heart hammering in your chest, heat burning up your cheeks. Fuck, it was getting harder and harder to keep your calm around them, now.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

After a whole week of preparation, taking the train, you finally arrived at the camp that was supposed to host your club, you, and your teachers. The activities were mostly to have fun and have a break from work, like a reward for passing mid exams of the year. You got in your room with other female students, after checking them with Gojo and Geto, being sure everything was alright.

You all started by doing some hiking, nothing too hard, obviously. You all had packed lunch, taking the opportunity to look at the amazing landscape of the mountains. You stayed behind, to make sure nobody would get lost, in the company of Gojo and Geto. You started to get tired, letting the two of them keep up their conversation by themselves. They weren’t exhausted at all, unlike everyone else. How could that be humanly possible ? You were out of breath, and they kept glancing at you at the corner of their eyes.

“Maybe we should take a break, y/n, you look like you are about to faint here,” jokes Satoru, patting softly your back as a way to cheer you up.

“No, we will soon arrive at the lunch spot. I can hold on for 10 more minutes,” you shake your head, taking a deep breath and grabbing a trunk to help you climb the small rocks on the side. But then two hands slide under your arms, and lift you up easily until the top of the rocks, as if you weighed nothing.

“Here you go, you should ask for help if needed,” winks at you Suguru, being the one that helped you out. You look away, flustered to be so close to him, before he steps on the side to let you walk by yourself. The palm of Gojo is now on the small of your back to make sure you don’t fall.

“Thank you,” you inhale while saying that.

“You’re kinda weak, y/n. But don’t worry, we’re here to catch you before falling.” Satoru grins saying that, looking at your figure struggling to keep the pace.

“Yeah, right-” you start sarcastically, rolling your eyes, but at the same time your foot slips on the ground and you gasp as you lose balance. You fall backwards, yet, your back hits two strong chests behind you, and long arms wrap around your waist securely. You quickly realize that your two professors caught you on time.

“Told you,” murmurs Satoru cockily, his grin becoming a cheeky smirk.

“Be careful,” continues Suguru, and they push you back up on your feet. You thank them, embarrassed, and now stay closer in case something happens.

Some minutes later you all arrive at the secluded place for lunch. It was beautiful, a big panoramic view by being on the mountain felt like you were touching the sky and that the villages around were as small as ants. You help other classmates while Gojo and Geto are busy distributing the food in case people forgot to pack lunch. Students fawn over them, and keep asking if they could eat with them. They agree. You feel the gaze of Gojo on your back, but you look away and decide to sit down with your group of friends to instead eat with them. It would be suspicious if you stayed all the time with them, and you still wanted to spend some time with your own friends.

You eat your sandwich peacefully, unable to keep your mind on track, always lost in thoughts daydreaming about the black and white haired men. You were wondering if something else would happen during this trip. You hoped so. Your friends had to snap you back of your reverie quite often, laughing.

Later, when you all were back to the camp, everyone rushed to the hot baths. It was a chance that they were available for you, but you had to wait a bit before being able to go relax, since you had to do the checkups of the furnitures with your teachers.

“Y/n, can you check if everything is here ?” asks Suguru, holding a list of paper in front of your eyes. You nod, and walk inside the reception of the building and count if all the bags were there.

“You okay here ? My poor y/n, I’m sure you wanna go to the baths to relax, am I right ?” purrs Satoru behind you, crossing his arms over his chest. You lift your head to look at him.

“I’m good, at least I will be alone in the baths, nobody to annoy me.” You shrug, and then Satoru bends down and grabs a bag of marshmallows as he hums at your answer.

“What do you think about marshmallows to eat at the bonfire tomorrow night ? Suguru said that you all weren’t kids anymore, and that maybe they wouldn’t want to,” he complains, a pout forming on his lips as he looks at the sweet treats.

“No, I think that’s a good idea to do on the last night here. I mean, I’ll personally gladly enjoy it,” you answer with a smile, crossing your hands behind your back. Satoru grins.

“Oh yeah ? Perfect then. You really are always here to help us out, y/n. I should offer you more private tutoring as a thank you, don’t you think ?”

“Professor, it’s-”

“Satoru. When we are alone you can call me by my name, like at the bar,” he cuts you before letting you continue, stepping closer as he opens the bag of sweets and he plops one in his mouth.

“Satoru, then. I was saying that having extra tutoring wouldn’t be very fair for the other students that struggle in your class. Isn’t it favoritism ?” you repeat.

“Life’s not fair, y/n. Call it what you want, favoritism or not. You should take the opportunity, don’t you think ?” He retorts swiftly, tilting his head to the side, looking at you through his sunglasses. You swallow your saliva, batting your lashes one second to let you have the time to think properly.

“Well..”

“Think about it,” he cuts you off, putting his hand on your shoulder. You simply nod, gazing at his long fingers, and at the same time Suguru arrives. You turn around to face him.

“Am I interrupting something ?” he asks, eying you down, the corner of his lips lifting in a small smirk and raising his eyebrows.

“We were just talking about me tutoring her, no harm in that, right ?” Satoru replies coolly, and Suguru stares back at him with an equally steady gaze, his eyes flickering over to your for a moment.

“No.”

“Is there something you wanted ?” the white haired one asks, stepping back and eating another marshmallow.

“Yeah. Y/n, did you finish checking the bags ?” he turns around to face you, hands in his pocket nonchalantly as he approaches you.

“Yes, everything is in order,” you nod, answering.

“Good, well then you are free to go to the hot baths if you want,” he smiles, and Satoru takes the opportunity to slide his arm around the shoulder of Suguru, grinning like an idiot.

“We should go too, Sugu’,” he coos exaggeratedly. You chuckle and excuse yourself, walking away to prepare yourself to relax in the hot water.

Inside the public bath, nobody else is around since all the other students finished long ago and were spending time outside, helping to prepare dinner. You take a deep breath. You sink in the water, your sore muscles getting almost magically healed by the warmth, closing your eyes. You open them back when you hear on the other side of the wall made in bamboo, inside the male public bath, two familiar voices.

It was Gojo and Geto, and you couldn’t help but fluster at the idea that they were naked on the other side of the baths. You obviously couldn’t see them, nor they could see you, but your fantasies thought otherwise.

You try to not imagine lewd things, but it was hard to, even though it was bad. It’s been years that you were untouched, having no time for dating or hookups, not wanting to do so. Yet, it made you frustrated that your sexual life was so low. It’s maybe for that, that you were having weird ideas about your teachers, your crush on them not helping at all. But the images of their hands around your limbs, innocently supporting you earlier to not fall. Or the way they said your name, acted with you for months now, the fact that you knew they were currently sexually active as they admitted in the past, having their so called “fun”... Was it so wrong to desire them ? They didn’t know anything, it was in between yourself and nobody else. Your little secret. You didn’t cause any harm after all.

“You really couldn’t keep it in your pants, uh ?” You suddenly hear the voice of Suguru from the other side of the baths. Curious, even though it was wrong, you try to listen to their conversation.

“Can you blame me ? Do you see how she looks at us ? I couldn’t resist asking her, there is nothing wrong with that,” retorts Satoru.

“Yeah, well, at least I know how to control myself. We are in no position to make a move on her.”

“That’s so fucking annoying. She is just my type, what a bummer,” sighs Satoru. You wonder what they were talking about, and more likely about who. You frown, moving slowly in the bath to get closer to the wall to eavesdrop better. What were you even doing ? !

“If you really want to make a move on her, we should wait for her to graduate, like that, there will be no problem,” replies Suguru. You open your eyes wide at what they said. Did you imagine it ? No, clearly not. You try to not make any sound as you move even closer, but the water betrays you.

“Yeah yeah, I know. But damn, she clearly has a crush on us, Sugu’. It’s hard to stay professional sometimes,” he groans.

“To be honest, we aren’t really professional with her. Even less you…”

“Hey, how about we do a small move on her, just to see if she is willing or not. If she doesn’t, then that’s too bad, we stop everything. If she does, well... we’ll see, yeah ?”

“It’s another one of your bad ideas,” answers Suguru in a long sigh.

“Come on, don’t be so uptight, I know you are curious.” You swear you could imagine a grin forming on the lips of Gojo just by his cocky tone of voice. There is a small moment of quietness, before you hear something again.

“Deal.”

You bite hard on your lips to not make any noise of surprise, shocked by what you just heard. You decide to not stay any longer and quickly leave the hot bath in panic.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the walls, Satoru grins mischievously, and Suguru slides his hand in his wet long black hair.

“Do you think she heard us ?” asks Gojo, playing with the water while sinking a bit more in the warmth around him.

“Of course she did. She was the last one to enter the baths, everyone else was outside cooking dinner,” answers Geto confidently, stretching his arms and looking at the wall.

“Then that’s perfect, at least she can prepare herself now for what is coming,” chuckles Satoru, gazing at his best friend.

“Don’t be too mean, Satoru.”

“You say that, but in between the two of us, you are the one that is a damn sadic sometimes. Am I right ?”

Suguru simply grins as an answer.

જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ

Tonight was the second and last night of your trip. Since yesterday, you couldn’t stop thinking about what you heard in the hot baths. Were they talking about you, or someone else ? You couldn’t know, but yet, deep in your heart, you hoped it was indeed you. The following day you kept being shy around them, unable to forget their words echoing in your mind. Each time they were talking to you, slightly touching you, like a hand on your shoulder, or the way they looked at you, you felt your heart hammering in your chest like a wild horse.

You were sitting on a truck in front of the bonfire, next to your friends, roasting marshmallows thanks to the idea of Gojo. Everyone was happily talking, drinking beer and munching on the melted sweets. You kept avoiding their eyes, and you knew that they sensed it.

You look up at them, at how attractive they looked with the reflection of the flames on their face and body. Suguru was wearing a black hoodie with black sweatpants, sitting on a manspread while turning the stick with the marshmallow on it. His hair was half tied in a bun, his little bang falling back on his face. Satoru was wearing blue jeans with a sweater too, a gray one. He wasn’t wearing his usual sunglasses, the warmth of the fire illuminating his pretty eyes. You try to look away, mesmerized, but then Suguru looks at you and grins. A grin that didn’t look so innocent.

At the same time, other students keep their conversation with them. One of them asks something about the last lesson of the class of Satoru, and he stretches his long limbs gazing at you before looking back at the student.

“Aww come on, I don’t want to think about work right now. Let’s talk about it once we are back on campus, okay guys ?” he answers.

“Last lesson was so hard, is it possible to have some personal tutoring with you, professor ?” coos a student with mid length hair, batting their lashes.

“Nah, sorry, I don’t do tutoring. But, I can send a file of some explained exercises, and training to do, it will help you,” he replies, but the way he said that he doesn’t do tutoring, his eyes were on you, boring into yours. You gulp, he was blatantly lying, and you were the only one, aside from Suguru, to know.

They complain, and your friends do too, saying they wished they could assist to some special tutoring. Well, you keep your mouth shut, unable to say that you already had one tutoring from him in the past, and that he proposed to do more for you. It really was favoritism, and you felt kinda bad, but, as Gojo said, you shouldn't miss such an opportunity. Life was unfair, after all.

“Y/n, can you help me bring more wood for the bonfire ?” asks suddenly Suguru, standing up from the truck and showing with his chin the way towards where he wanted you to follow him. You look at first surprised, nervous to be alone with him, but still nod and stand up after a few short seconds. You were excited too, some heat pooling in your lower stomach at the idea.

“Satoru couldn’t help ?” you question as you walk next to him, away of the bonfire.

“For now, we need to keep at least one of us present, since some students are drinking alcohol. Safety first,” he explains as you both arrive in a secluded area of the camp with the necessary firewood.

“Yeah, that’s logical,” you smile a bit awkwardly when you reply, and he leans against the tarpaulin that covers the wood from being wet.

“Sorry, I half lied. I wanted to smoke too, actually,” he admits as he slides a cigarette in between his lips and lights it with his lighter, inhaling softly and then blowing the toxic smoke in the darkness of the night. You look at him, almost in awe, unable to not look at his lips or his fingers turning red from the weather.

“I don’t mind,” you shake your head slightly, and he smirks.

“The way you look at me makes it look like you want one too,” he muses, tilting his head on the side and eying you down. Well, you wanted him more than anything else, but you wouldn’t refuse something to ease your nerves.

“Kinda, yeah.”

“I shouldn’t do that, but… here you go,” he proposes as he takes one from his pack, and gives it to you. You thank him and grab it.

Expect you didn’t have any lighter on you, Suguru realized that. He keeps his usual unreadable face, but then steps closer and leans towards you. The tip of his cigarette kisses yours, and you fluster at the situation, yet you try to keep your cool as you inhale, lightening it. You blow the smoke away, surprised that he did such a gesture.

“Thank you,” you whisper in the quietness of the area.

“I’m just doing what you did for me last time,” he answers as a small smirk forms at the corner of his lips. Right, you remember your bold move some weeks ago, and get even more embarrassed.

“Well, about that…”

“Are you nervous, y/n ?” he cuts you in the middle of your sentence, and that throws you off guard.

“Nervous ? What ?” you almost stutter, chocking on the smoke, not expecting for him to ask that. His purple eyes stay right on you, unwavering.

“Yeah, since yesterday night I feel like you are quite on edge. Did something happen ?” he continues, in a worried tone of voice, but you knew that he wasn’t really worried. He knew something, clearly. Suguru wasn’t dumb.

“I guess I’m just a bit tired because of the hiking of yesterday,” you lie, he finishes his cigarette quickly, looking at you.

“Is that so ?” Suguru raise his eyebrows and then you finish your cigarette too, putting it in the trashbean next to the tarpaulin. He lifts it and take some wood, giving you a small portion in your arms. He takes more.

“Yep, just tired,” you insist, trying to act nonchalant by shrugging and bringing closer to your chest the wood. He walks next to you, showing you to follow him back to the bonfire where you could hear the sounds of people cheering, laughing and having fun.

The moment you arrive, Satoru looks at the both of you, and then Suguru discreetly leans towards your ear before whispering :

“You know it’s bad to eavesdrop, right, y/n ?”

You freeze. He simply smiles without even looking at you, and throws the wood in the fire before dusting off his hands. Air is knocked out of your lungs, in a gasp, and you awkwardly throw too the wood in the bonfire. He knew, he fucking knew. And the way Satoru is gazing at you with a cocky smirk, you know that he knows too.

You just wanted to bury yourself of embarrassment right now. But you couldn’t act like a coward, and instead sit back on the truck with your friends, trying to forget about it. But your hands were sweating, a lot, and you were so so flustered, remembering what they said. That was a dangerous game to play, a very dangerous one.

But the adrenaline in your veins, pulsating towards your heart, making your body warmer by the second, makes you want more, and more, even more. Will it go farther, will they make a move as they proposed ? But the first question was : were they talking about you, or someone else ? You still had no real confirmation, after all.

Some minutes pass, and the moment that some students go back to their dorms to sleep, being exhausted from drinking too much beer, you decide to follow them. You help them, after all it was your duty as the president of the class, even though it was your club and not your course. Nonetheless, a whole hour passes where you are incredibly busy doing so, and it’s helping you forget for a while your nervousness.

You sigh, finally done. The other students that still didn’t go to sleep, were minding their own business without needing any supervision. You stretch, clearly exhausted and your muscles being sore from bending over again and again to support some drunk heads towards their bed.

As you step back in the empty corridor, your body hits the chest of someone. You turn around, only to be face to face to your troublemakers.

“Y/n ? Aren’t you sleeping too ?” asks Satoru, raising his eyebrows and leaning towards, towering over you with Suguru that keeps his hands in his pockets.

“Not yet, I was busy helping out some classmates” you stutter, backing away, clenching your heart with your hand as you squeeze a bit your thighs together.

“Us too. Hmmm, well. How about before sleeping we spend some time together ? Since it’s the last night. If you want, of course,” purrs Suguru by stepping closer, tilting his head to the side to analyze you better.

“Sugu’, I think she is way too shy now. Maybe leave her alone, we wouldn’t want our poor y/n to feel uncomfortable after what she heard yesterday,” continues Satoru, leaning his forearm on the shoulder of the black haired one, a slight sas smile on his face and shaking his head in a mock concern.

Yes, you were feeling shy. But you clearly wanted to fulfill your dream, of having something more with them, no matter how problematic it was. It was maybe your only chance right now. So you quickly shake your head, deciding to be brave in your desire.

“No no no, I’m good. I don’t mind staying with the both of you before sleeping. I’m not really tired, anyways…” you exclaim, and a big, mischievous smile stretches their lips, and you just feel like you were dancing in the palm of their hands.

“Aww really ? That’s good. Then come here,” replies Satoru as he grabs your shoulders and brings you with them, walking alongside you.

The three of you arrived at the public living room of the building of the camp, but nobody else was there. It was empty. The moonlight outside illuminates the place through the big window. They close the door behind them, and make you sit on the couch that was in front of the fireplace. You are now sitting in between the two of them, the arm of the white haired one still around your shoulders, meanwhile the thigh of Suguru brushes yours.

Satoru drinks some water in a cup, and he looks at you. His fingers that were around your shoulders, softly caressing your skin, brings you closer. At the same time, Suguru stretches his arm behind your head, slowly spreading more of his legs, leaving you little space.

“Y/n, if you are here, it’s for a reason, right ?” asks the black haired one, glancing at you. His hand behind your head comes to lightly touch your hair, and you can’t help but shiver.

“You aren’t as innocent as we thought, uh ?” continues Satoru, putting down the glass of water on the table, long fingers sliding under your chin to tilt it towards him. You swallow your saliva, and don’t realize how you bite your lower lip of apprehension. You felt like he was staring right at your soul with his piercing blue eyes shining in the dim atmosphere.

“Why would I be ?” you retort back. The mood felt electric. The hand of Suguru slides down around your waist now, gripping your soft flesh through your shirt.

“Well, we thought it was cute, your crush on us. Even though we are your professors. You know it isn’t right, yeah ?” adds Suguru, and you try to look at him by turning around your head, yet Satoru keeps his grip on your chin firm. You frown, and decide to gather your courage.

“So what ? I’m 22, not some kid. And from what I know, many other students on campus clearly have a crush on both of you too. I don’t cause any harm,” you defend yourself, and almost gasp as the cold and cool fingers of Geto slide under your shirt to gently caress your skin.

“Oh but yes, you caused us harm, y/n. You lied. You said you had feelings for no one on campus, including teachers. We hate people that lie, did you know ?” he whispers, his nails now digging on your waist and you let out a small noise escaping your lips.

“How about you say sorry ?” Satoru grins saying that, leaning forward, his breath on your neck, and softly kissing your pulsating point. You immediately squeeze your thighs together, trying to ease the burning desire in your lower stomach.

“Sorry ? I did nothing wrong-”

“Y/n, we don’t like people that lie. You should be sorry. Not only for that, but sorry too because you were listening to our conversation in the hot baths yesterday. You are an adult, not some kid, as you said. Excusing yourself should be easy, right ?” he whispers in your other ear, his long black hair caressing your shoulder and cheek.

At the same time the sweet lips of Satoru tingle on your neck, and you shiver. You were turned on as ever, and you just wanted to play their little game even more. It was so thrilling. The wet patch on your panties confirmed it.

“Don’t worry, it will be our little secret. Nobody else will know, just you, Suguru, and me. So ? You in, y/n ?” asks Satoru, licking his lips as he mischievously looks at you, and you were screaming of happiness internally. Your dream was coming true, finally. After years of fantasizing, daydreaming, and silly crushes. It was happening ! If you died after it, you were sure you would be happy.

“Fuck. Yeah,” you whisper in a breath, and the moment you give your consent, the lips of Satoru smash against yours.

You moan, his other hand grabbing your hand and he leans towards you. He moves his mouth sensually against yours, before his soft like velvet tongue caresses yours. Fuck, that was so hot. He kissed like a God, and your years of inactivity made you shyer than you thought. He presses your back against the chest of his best friend, leaving you no room to escape. You rub your thighs together, yet the strong hand of Suguru slides in between them and parts them apart.

“No no no, you can’t, y/n. Only us can. That’s what you get for not saying sorry,” he coos, his fingers caressing your clothed cunt, pressing exactly where your pulsating point was, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. Satoru swallows your whimper, deepening the kiss, making it almost hard to keep up.

You had no more time to lament yourself, that the hand of Suguru slips under your pants, and then under your panties. His slender finger slides in between your folds, and the contrast in between the warmth of your cunt and the coldness of his skin makes your legs shake for a second.

“Satoru, she is dripping wet. Look at that. So cute,” meanly says Suguru, downcasting his soaked digits, and you fluster when you look at them. Satoru even grins against your lips, chuckling a bit.

“I mean, poor y/n didn’t have sex for a long time… Pretty cunt was waiting for us, yeah ?” the white haired one adds, winking at you, and he lets Suguru grab your head quite roughly to make you look at him.

“Maybe you should taste yourself, so you can realize by yourself how needy you are, y/n.” It was more like an order rather than a question. At the same time Satoru is busy unbuttoning your shirt, freeing your breast with your already perked nipples.

“I-” you start to say, but then he softly puts his soaked digits on your tongue.

“Suck”, he commands. You do so, your tongue swirling around his fingers, and his smile gets larger as he looks at you obediently following what he said. As you suck, Satoru is busy sucking your nipples instead, his other hand occupied fondling it to stimulate both at the same time. You moan on the fingers of Suguru at the feeling, and he slowly takes them off, looking at the saliva that lubricated them. He kisses you now, sliding back his fingers under your pants to reach your twitching pussy. The wetness of your saliva gets mixed with your juice, and he at first circles your clit with his thumb, before letting his middle finger enter your tight hole inch by inch to be sure you were comfortable. You let out a strangled whimper, and Satoru takes the opportunity to bite on your bullied nipple, moving to the center of your breast, letting out a mark.

Soon, the whole finger of Geto is pumping down your cunt, and your hips move slightly. Satoru grabs them, stopping you from squirming too much.

“Already can’t handle it ?” he mocks you.

“Isn’t she kinda pathetic ?” Suguru adds another finger saying that, his thumb still circling your pulsating and red clit.

“So weak, yeah,” answers Satoru, taking off your pants in a swift move. The first seconds, your legs are cold, but the warmth of the fireplace right in front of you on the couch, or the way your body is burning up from pleasure, the coldness soon fades away.

Suguru goes deeper, making you twitch, his long fingers being able to reach your sweet spot. He bullies harder your gummy walls, and you part your lips as you become a moaning mess. Yet, his lips smash against yours again, preventing you from being too loud. You couldn’t get caught, after all.

“We should reward her like that every time she nails her exam, don’t you think, Sugu’ ?” asks Satoru, now sliding off your panties, admiring your dripping cunt swallowing perfectly the fingers of his best friend. He bites the inside of his mouth, cheeks turning red and a cocky smirk spreading on his face.

“Does she even deserve it ? I dunno…” Suguru muses, and you try to reply that yes you do, but the pleasure is too intense you can’t even form a coherent sentence.

“Awww, you’re being so mean to her,” he chuckles, kissing your lonely neck, right there on your throat.

“Feels like she enjoys it, right y/n ?” he coos, looking at you as he stops to make out with you for a second, biting your lower lip.

Your only answer is the way your eyes roll back in your skull, cumming hard on his hand, feeling an explosion in your lower stomach as you squirt for the first time of your life. You thought you saw Heavens, and you couldn’t believe that the single hand of Geto Suguru could do such a thing. When you come back from your high, you butterfly open your eyes, panting and legs shaking.

“What a waste, y/n.” Satoru pouts, and you have no time to think that he lowers his body and digs in, his mouth directly on your cunt. When you were about to moan of surprise, your mouth was filled by the dripping fingers of Suguru.

“You better be quiet, y/n. We wouldn’t want you to wake up your classmates,” coos Suguru. You almost choke on them.

Your thighs are closing back on Satoru’s head, he chuckles, and it rumbles against your clit. With his two strong hands, he opens them back, tongue latching on your poor abused bundle of nerves. You throw your head back, the free hand of his best friend now playing with your breast. His other, that was first on your mouth, slides down on your throat and grabs it. His bicep flexes around your head when he does so, crushing you even more against him.

“So pretty, you’re a real mess. Who would have thought, hmm ?” says Suguru in a low voice, humming to himself as his fingers contract around your neck. You gasp, but then he licks your lower lip before kissing you to leave you breathless.

Satoru continues to eat you out like a starved man, and no matter how much you were squirming, his hands were firmly holding you in place.

“You taste so fucking good, y/n,” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue sliding inside your dripping hole and his nose hitting your clit. It was driving you mad, they both were keeping you on the edge.

Each time you felt like they were about to let you cum, either Suguru would stop Satoru, or Satoru would slow down by himself. You just wanted to feel relief, and your whimpers got swallowed by the countless kisses of Geto. It was damn torture, yet it felt so damn good. So sweet but almost painfully maddening.

“If you say sorry, we’ll let you cum, y/n. How about that ?” Whispers Suguru in between kisses, giving a glance to Satoru that returned the same one. His mouth was full of your cunt, letting his best friend do the talking.

“Sorry,” you mumble in a strangled moan.

“Uh-uh. I didn't hear you well. Repeat that ?”

You felt like crying. You were so, so, so close. Fuck. His stupid pretty face made you unable to not obey.

“I’m sorry !” Your eyelids are palpitating and you just fuck off your conscience, not giving a damn about your dignity anymore. Tonight there's no point in thinking too much, they were just here to consume you to the point of overdose.

Suguru grins, and with just a glance, Satoru makes you cum, hard. You throw your head back, your sounds muffled by the hand of Suguru as he kisses your neck. Satoru helps you to ride down your high, until he kisses quite softly your inner thighs. He lifts himself up, and presses his lips against yours to let you taste yourself. Suguru slowly lets go of your neck, his hand supporting you to sit comfortably back. You looked at them with desire, now addicted to the bone and just wanting more.

“Aw, don’t give us that look, y/n, because there will be no more for you tonight” pouts Satoru in a mocking way, shaking his head and tilting your head by grabbing your chin softly.

“What ?” you ask confused, frowning and clearly frustrated.

“Hmm, if you wanna go all the way with us, you have to wait to graduate your major,” starts Suguru, “and then, only then, you’ll taste real heaven. But until this day,” continues Satoru, “we’ll have to keep it down. Deal, y/n ?” finishes Suguru. And they both have the wildest grin ever, one that makes you shiver.

Yeah, one year and a half. One more fucking year and an half before you graduate. You just couldn’t wait for it to happen, to be free to woo them as you wanted, and to have a better taste of Heaven, as they said. You could confirm it.

Would you be able to keep it down, like Suguru said ? Or end up giving in before graduating ? You still had time to see by yourself. It was thrilling, but a torture. Maybe dangerous, toxic and clearly problematic, but it’s been long ago since you threw away any logical thoughts.

THE END

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