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little-diable · 4 months

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Meant to be – Prof!Spencer Reid (smut)

I just love writing prof!fics – almost as much as I love priest!fics. Almost. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader is a young professor joining the university Spencer works at. Even though he's annoyed about having to share his office with her at first, he can't help but fall for her all too quickly.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, office smut, some possessiveness/jealousy, lots of fluff

Pairing: Prof!Spencer Reid x fem!prof!reader (3k words)

“Professor Reid?” The soft voice filled his office, forcing his eyes off the paper he was currently grading. His gaze wandered over the woman's features as he curiosity studied her for a moment before clearing his throat.

“My office hours are over, please return on Wednesday for your questions.” His eyes left hers to refocus on his papers, while expecting her to turn around and leave, urged on by the rude tone he hadn’t been able to shake. Spencer hadn’t expected anybody else to turn up this late in the afternoon, he was desperate to squeeze as much work into the remaining time he had alone in his office, already overstimulated by the mere thought of having to share his office with somebody from today on.

“My name is (y/n), I’ll be sharing this office with you.” Once again he was forced to look at her, unable to swallow his annoyance as it began to dawn on him that she wasn’t a student.

She was pretty, by far prettier than all the pictures he had searched on the internet the second he had heard about her, about (y/n) joining his personal safe space. Why hadn’t he recognised her? Was his mind already that fed up with the pretty stranger?

“Of course, I’m sorry.” He didn’t move as she slowly stepped into the big room, letting her eyes wander before finding her way to her space. The old wooden desk had been placed near the big window, drenching her in the light of the slowly setting sun. Spencer would crash and burn if he were forced to see this daily, a sight so ethereal he feared this was just a trick of his tired brain.

“I’m sorry that you have to share your office with me, I can only imagine how annoying that must be for you.” He wanted to protest, wanted to tell her that he doesn’t mind sharing it with her – polite words any other colleague would have effortlessly spoken. But all Spencer could do was hum and redirect his gaze to the papers, while missing the slight hurt expression (y/n) couldn’t hide.

……

Her heart was pounding with a faster beat, singing a tale of nervousness in her chest she couldn’t silence just yet. This wasn’t an unusual situation for her, she had taught numerous classes before, but the first class she taught at a new university always had something special to it, something (y/n) couldn’t shake.

The students were working on the papers she had handed out a minute ago, fully engrossed by the story. She let her eyes wander, taking them all in in hopes of remembering at least a handful of them. But her thoughts were silenced the second her eyes found his. Spencer Reid was leaning against the door and with his arms crossed in front of his chest he intently studied her from his spot.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest as it silently whispered to (y/n). It had been days since she had first crossed paths with him, the annoyed, closed-off man who was more handsome than she liked to admit. Ever since their first awkward run-in she hadn’t tried to make any conversations with him, she had opted to wear her headphones around him, hiding herself from the curious eyes she felt on her frame whenever she let her work swallow her.

Neither of them dared to break their eye contact first, a silent challenge both were determined to win. (Y/n) allowed herself to take him all in, the locks perfectly framing his handsome face, the slight unfamiliar smile playing on his lips, and those twinkling eyes that seemed to follow her around whenever they crossed paths.

“Alright, seems like our time is up, if you have any questions about your reading, please email me.” She was forced to break their staring contest first, smiling at her students who smiled back at her before leaving the room. (Y/n) couldn’t help but notice how a few of them wore overly bright smiles as they walked past Spencer, seemingly just as affected by the professor's handsome appearance, just like (y/n) was.

Only as the last student had left the room did Spencer finally begin to move. Slowly, he walked down the stairs, moving closer to (y/n) with every passing moment. She was glued to her spot, patiently waiting for the man to break their silence, to let her hear the raspy voice that had rang in her ears for the past days.

“That was a really interesting lecture, (y/n).” He came to a halt only a few steps away from her, keeping a slight distance between them as if he was unsure how to properly approach her. For a moment, (y/n) had to avert her gaze, she began to pack her bag with a slight smile stuck to her lips, hoping that he wouldn’t pick up on the nervousness flushing through her whenever he was close.

“Thank you, Spencer, that means a lot coming from a beloved professor like you.” Her words drew a gritty laugh from him, while a slight rosy tint began to flush his cheeks. (Y/n) shouldered her bag before she began to walk up to him, wordlessly asking him to follow her up the stairs and back to their office.

“Listen,” Spencer cleared his throat before he kept speaking, seemingly unsure how to put his thoughts into a coherent sentence. “I am sorry about those first days, I was annoyed and quite unfriendly to you. Would you allow me to make it up to you?”

“Oh, Spencer, that is very kind of you, but I get it, I would be just as annoyed if I had to give up my personal space to share it with a stranger.” Her soft voice left him smiling, unable to look away from (y/n) while stepping back into their own little bubble, the safe haven they found in their spacey office that was filled with books and collected items.

“Would you want to get some food with me, as an apology? We could also order in, if you want.” He plopped down on his chair the same second (y/n) did, while holding eye contact from their spots.

“Sure, that would be lovely, thank you, Spencer.”

……

Her phone had buzzed in her pocket a few minutes ago, and even though it had ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, she was determined to get her search over with before giving into the pull. She had just finished her class and was now combing through their library, in search of new reading material, desperately trying to find her books.

With a relieved sigh she reached for the book she had looked for these past minutes, pressing it to her side before finally giving into her heart’s silent call. (Y/n)’s hand wandered to her phone, unable to bite down her chuckles as she read Spencer’s all too simple message.

“Thai or Italian?”

Ever since that evening in their office, where they had ordered in and started to get to know one another properly, they had begun to form some kind of routine, ordering food at least once a week to spend their evenings together. Spending time with Spencer felt all too easy, too natural, something that made her feel more confused than she liked.

She was about to type out her reply as she collided with somebody, forcing her eyes off her phone. Hands found her waist to stabilise her frame, keeping the young professor from losing her balance. (Y/n)’s wide eyes found a pair of brown ones, she studied the man for a second before parting her lips to apologise.

“I am so sorry, are you alright?” Her question drew a soft laugh from him. She had seen him from afar a few times, another professor she had yet to properly introduce herself to. He was a handsome man, taller than her and slightly older, and yet he had nothing on the professor she shared her office with.

“Don’t worry, are you alright though?” The man still had his hand placed on her waist, holding onto her while murmuring the question. Just as she wanted to reply, to tell him that nothing had happened, her name was called, forcing her attention towards Spencer, who was approaching the two. An unreadable expression tugged on his features as he studied her and the hand of their colleague which was still glued to her waist.

“There you are, I was looking for you, sweetheart.” Heat flushed through her at the unfamiliar term of endearment. The second Spencer reached her side, he pulled her from the man’s grasp, straight into his arms. She could only gape up at him, torn between her confusion and the slight twinge of excitement she couldn’t shake as she took in his clear expression of jealousy.

The man muttered something (y/n) couldn’t pick up, fully focused on Spencer and the way she fit all too perfectly into his grasp. No words were shared between them as they held eye contact, staring at one another as if it was the first time they got to take the other in. Spencer’s thumb stroked soft circles into the fabric of her shirt before he slowly – almost reluctantly – let go of her.

“I, uhm, you didn’t reply, so I thought I’d go find before you get lost.” Spencer’s whispers drew a soft chuckle from (y/n). She couldn’t stop herself from reaching for his hand to lightly squeeze it as her smile kept growing.

“And what was that whole thing with calling me “sweetheart”?” The blush she was all too familiar with by now returned to his cheeks, while forcing his eyes from her. (Y/n) squeezed his hand again before she began to tug him down the hallway, set on finding their way back to their office.

“Don’t worry, Spence’, I quite liked it.”

……

“You’re so quiet, what’s going on in that head of yours?” She mumbled the words as she studied Spencer. They were both sitting on the floor, leaning against the small couch placed near their bookshelves, while finishing their food. It had been almost an hour since their situation at the library, but while (y/n) had made some more jokes about the situation, Spencer had grown quiet, deep in thought.

Spencer’s gaze flickered from his hands to her curious features. He studied her for a few seconds before he placed his plate down and fully turned towards (y/n). No words were shared between them, they were caught in a thick fog of unspoken thoughts, longings, and fears.

“Can I try something?” His husky voice was about to draw a gasp from (y/n). She could only nod her head, not daring to break out of the grasp this situation had on her. Spencer’s hand found her cheek, while his eyes were focusing on her lips. He let a few seconds pass before closing the distance between them.

Within seconds he had pulled her into his lap, letting (y/n) straddle his thighs as their lips moved in sync. Their hearts were racing, pounding in their chests to beg one another to keep on going, to let their tongues meet while growing comfortable in the new sensation that held their souls hostage. The kiss felt all too perfect, something they had been waiting for ever since crossing paths, something they had longed for and thought of for weeks now.

“I can’t stop thinking of the way he touched you.” Spencer murmured his words against her lips. A confused expression began to tug on her features as she patiently waited for him to keep on talking.

“You’re mine to touch, and not his, you’ll never be.” Possessiveness dripped from his words – a possessiveness so strong, it made her feel as if they had been together for years, sharing memories neither could shake. (Y/n) couldn’t speak up, not when she felt Spencer’s hands disappear beneath the fabric of her blouse, softly stroking her sides.

“Spencer,” she gasped his name, desperate for more, another touch – anything he’d offer to her. His lips began to find their way down her throat, sucking on spots that made her tingle with a biting heat threatening to leave its mark on her forever. (Y/n)’s hands tugged on his curls while trying to shuffle even closer, letting her core grind against his growing bulge.

“We shouldn’t do this here.” (Y/n) could only whisper the words as his hands pulled her blouse over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan that left Spencer at the sight made her forget every word she wanted to speak, every warning, nothing but hazy thoughts were left behind.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t, baby.” The raspy command forced her to arch her front into his touch. She felt as if he had set her ablaze, burning for him only, a summer solstice bonfire that left her shaking and trembling in a desperate need to turn every offering into something worthy.

“People will hear.” His hands kept moving, urged on by the desperate whines leaving (y/n). The cold air teased her now naked chest, the hardening nipples Spencer’s fingers tugged on, drawing the most sinful sounds from her parted lips.

“And? Let them hear how good I’ll be fucking you.” The words seemed to do something to (y/n) - they forced her hands to move from his hair down his front to slowly undo his trousers. Both knew that there was no way out of this, they were high on the feelings the other pushed through them, desperate for the highs they could already feel creeping closer without being properly touched.

“How can you be so sure you’ll satisfy me enough?” She was riling him up, teasing him in a desperate attempt to forgo any foreplay to be filled by him, needing to feel Spencer buried deep inside of her. They held eye contact for a second as she finally managed to free his cock, twitching in her grasp as if he felt the same exciting heat burning deep inside of him.

Spencer didn’t speak another word as he pushed her off his lap to murmur a raspy “Undress”. He stared at her as (y/n) pulled out of her jeans, with her soaked panties following a second later. Her skin was prickling, unsure how to act around the man who was now seeing her completely naked for the first time.

They kept looking at one another while Spencer fisted his cock, giving himself a few pumps before a smirk tugged on his lips. With his hand finding the back of her head, he pulled her in for a teeth-clashing kiss – a kiss so desperate (y/n) feared he’d rob her of her last breath.

“Turn around, chest down on the couch.” Slowly, (y/n) turned around to follow his command, only to feel him behind her a few moments later. She heard Spencer shuffle around and rip open a condom, before she felt his slender fingers at her aching heat. A loud moan managed to break through her at the feeling of his digits brushing through her slit, collecting drops of her arousal to spread it on her pulsing bundle.

(Y/n) had to claw her fingernails into the fabric of the couch to ground herself, to let go of a few deep breaths – all while Spencer slowly pulled his fingers away to push his cock towards her entrance. With one hand placed on her waist, he held onto (y/n) while slowly pushing into her – a sensation so strong, it pulled raspy moans from the both of them.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” (Y/n) could only let go of a sob at his praises. She had her eyes squeezed shut, knuckles turning a few shades lighter from the strong grip she had on the couch. Spencer pulled out of her, only to fuck into her with more force, letting his hips meet her behind with every thrust.

This was neither sweet nor was it slow, it was a desperate fuck, an attempt to get rid of the tension lingering between them, the longings neither of them had managed to shake ever since meeting for the first time. It was a perfect chase that now ended with both of them tumbling to their knees, losing all grip on reality, while being fucked into oblivion.

“Spencer, fuck, you feel so good.” Tears dripped from her eyes while the words broke through her – words that filled Spencer with pride. His smirk began to widen as her moans grew louder, rumbling through their office like a song both played on repeat.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, baby.” Her fingers blindly followed his command, she circled her pulsing bundle to push herself closer and closer towards the edge, high on the sensation that began to thump through her veins. With her teeth buried in her lower lip, (y/n) tried to keep another moan from leaving her, very well knowing that anybody could burst into their office any second now, a risk neither of them should take. And yet they couldn’t care, not when he was buried deep inside of her and about to fuck her through her high.

(Y/n) began to tremble as her orgasm climbed up her limbs, momentarily robbing her of her sight as black spots appeared in her vision. Spencer kept fucking her from behind, more ferocious with every thrust to chase his own high, set on following her down the edge. Their moans got tangled, ringing in their ears as if fireworks went off in the distance to support them through this long awaited moment.

Spencer came with a groan of her name, he clung to her as they both rode out their highs with racing hearts and quivering limbs. Heavy pants left them, filling the room with every breath spluttering from their lips.

“That was,” the rest of her sentence was left hanging in the air. Spencer slowly pulled out of her, he tossed the condom away before finding his way back to her. A slow kiss was shared between them, with his hand cupping her cheek, and hers resting on his shoulders.

“Perfect, like it was meant to be.”

#Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid imagine #criminal minds

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paradox-the-unimpressed-nun · 1 year

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🍓Taking matters into your own hands Human!Sick!Muzan x f!Wife!Reader (Not proofread)

🍓◌𓆩☽❀☾𓆪◌

Summary: You just want your husband to show you love and affection

Warning: Smut, Breeding kink, Overstimulation, Oral sex M!Receiving, Shower sex, sub!Muzan Dom!reader, slight orgasm denial, your deranged A/N: I don't usually post nsfw nor do I take nsfw request, then why did I make this? simple, I just really like Muzan. Also I'm still taking non f!reader request, I just made this because I want to. This is my first nsfw post so that’s why it’s ass

You have been married to Muzan for approximately a year now. Despite his sickness, cold demeanor, and occasional outbursts of yelling, you held onto the hope that your marriage would take a turn for the better.

You craved a family with Muzan, hoped to have living prof of your love with a child. However, intimacy between you is scarce having only being intimate on one occasion, your wedding night. You've grown increasingly frustrated with the fact of love in your relationship. Despite your attempts to reignite the spark and deepen your connection, every effort was met with resistance from Muzan, who has even refrained from simple acts of affection like embracing you.

Now you are desperate, his health has been declining and you've still have yet to bare his child. At this point You aren't even concerned if he loves you, you just want him, his body and his child. Tonight you would take matters into your own hands.

＊✿❀❀✿＊

Your movements are filled with a mix of urgency and longing as you hurriedly remove your clothing. You've waited far too long and now, finally, your deepest wishes are on the verge of becoming reality.

You quickly step into the bath, and you see Muzan sitting there, waiting for you. Soap bottle's were places neatly on the ledge beside him. "Y/n what are you waiting for? come in" Startled by being snapped out of your thoughts, your cheeks heat up in embarrassment and you hurriedly make your way towards him.

The water feels unbearably warm, intensifying your nervousness. As you reach for the bottles of soap, your hands tremble, causing you to stumble. Muzan's gaze grows increasingly irritated, and in a fit of frustration, he abruptly grasps your arms. His eyes bore into yours, their coldness piercing your soul. The sound of your name escaping his lips sends a jolt of mixed emotions through your heart. "Just pick it up, Y/n," he says curtly, his voice devoid of warmth. You find yourself whispering an apology, though you doubt he even hears it.

You squirt some soap onto your hands. Gently you grab muzans hair and brush your fingers through his hair, making sure to get the soap all in his hair. Picking up a bowl you pour water on him, making sure you get out all of the soap. One last time you run your fingers through his hair seeing if there is any soap left, there wasn’t any.

Muzan rises from the water and takes a seat on the bath ledge, he looks like a god. However, beneath his stunning exterior, you are reminded of his unpleasant nature, to say the least. You reach for another bottle of soap you assist Muzan in cleaning his skin. Gently and attentively, you apply the soap, rubbing it onto his skin with care. Your hands gaze over his thin arms, moving down to his chest and then lower down to his crotch.

You slowly sit into the way the water, you grab his shaft. A jolt of surprise evident on his face and his cock twitches in your palm. "What are you doing, Y/n?!" Muzan's gaze locks onto you, his eyes widening in astonishment. Your current actions seem to deviate from your usual character, leaving him perplexed. "I'm cleaning you up," you assert confidently, your voice clear and resolute. Your statement carries a sense of purpose and determination, leaving no room for doubt in your intentions. Lowering down to his shaft you lovingly kiss the head, a free hand moves to play with his balls. This causes him to cover his mouth and whimpers -he’s sensitive- you look up at him, Tears begin to well up in Muzan's eyes, on the brink of spilling over.

Again you kiss the head of his cock, immediately after you give a couple generous licks to his pretty pink tip. His cock becomes hard on your tongue, which makes the pool in-between your legs grow. Generously your free hand plays with his heavy balls. Your mouth is skillfully working on pleasuring him while he's near tear filled and struggling to keep his composure, he's failing miserably.

Putting his tip fully into your mouth you slowly lower your self down to his base, he moans as he feels his shaft hit the back of your throat. Tears of pure joy and endearment develop in your eyes, you're thrilled that he's enjoying this.

He places a hand on the back of your neck, encouraging you to continue. straight away you bob your head up and down, you try not to gag on his cock has it hits the back of your throat. Muzan wraps his legs and arms around your head, he's struggling under the sheer pleasure that your lovingly providing him. "Oh-oh God!" he chokes out a sob, in response you fasten or pace. A ring of drool and pre-cum form around your puckered lips, this giving you the sign that he will be cumming soon.

“F-fuck…I’m close!” He was about to release into your mouth but you pull away before he can. His pretty pink cock twitches from the lack of release. Muzan gazes fixates on you while tears fall down his flushed cheeks. The look in his eyes is a look of complete and utter betrayal. Usually such a look was stir up concern in you but this time, his tears are from the deep yearning of wanting a release. “Don’t worry my love, you’ll get to cum soon” you smile ever so softly at him, soon he’ll fill you with his love

You arise from your original sitting position and wipe away the pre-cum from your chin. You seat yourself onto his lap cautious of the amount of weight you put on him. Gripping his cock you line it up to your neglected soaking hole. Straining longly into his eyes all you say is “soon baby, soon”. Finally you lower yourself down onto his perfect member. You both let out a moan how much louder than yours. Your walls squeezes trying to already squeeze him of all of his worth. Your mind is a fog all you can think about is his cock filling your womb up to the brim, telling you how much he’s gonna love seeing you full with his seed.

You slam your lips onto his, shoving your tongue into his mouth while wrapping your arms around his neck. Surprisingly Muzan responds by kissing back, he's a lousy kisser but just the fact that he is returning affection to you makes you melt into him.

He places a hand on your ass and squeezes it, the other deciding to rest on your hip. It's not long before you start to lift your hips, trying to start a rhythm. Soon you find the perfect rhythm your moves are now bold as you start quacking up speed. Muzan throws his back it's just all too overwhelming for him. He struggles to keep his body up as he already feels himself weakening from the pleasure. You feel completely enveloped in his love as you hear him moan and beg for you.

"Aah-Y/n please!" he yells while fat hot tears pour down his puffy cheeks, you hips stop moving abruptly and you lift yourself off of him. A lovely string of pearls connect your dripping pussy to his shaft, your walls try to clutch on his cock but only clutches onto hair. "Please what? use your words my love" your voice is filled with a mixture of longing and determination. You yearn for Muzan to say those words you've been craving for far too long. You'll continue to deny him just how he knowingly denied you until you hear him say it. "p-please..." he has long pause as he struggles to catch his breath "please...let me fuck a baby into you..".

That's all he had to say in order for you to promptly snap your hips back down and riding him like your life depended on it. You didn't even bother to try and hit your sweet spots, just knowing that soon he'll release into you was already sending jolts of unimaginable pleasure to your core. Muzan then suddenly grips your hips with all of his strength and bucks his hips up into you causing you let out a loud moan, he had hit your sweet spot. "fuck! I'm cumming!" Is all that he said before you and him both came. Keeping his promise he spilled hot sticky ropes of cum into your womb.

Tears stream down your cheeks as the realization sinks in—you are on the verge of having the family you have always yearned for. The journey may have been long and challenging, but now it is finally coming to fruition. Determined not to burden your husband with your emotions, you swiftly wipe away the tears that cascade down your face. You want to ensure that he does not worry, focusing instead on the joyous prospect that lies ahead.

Muzan, utterly exhausted, lays down on the floor. The shadows of unconsciousness gradually creeps up on him as he's on the edge of passing out. He's shaken up by the sudden action of you starting to ride him again "I'm sorry, I know its not exactly sexy to do the same position again but it's the only one we can do with your current state!" You gaze down at him, your eyes filled with an intense and unhealthy devotion that borders on obsession. A deranged expression manifests on your face, reflecting the depths of your distorted love for him.

Muzan is completely worn out and drained, so it doesn't take much for him to already be a blubbering mess under you. "goddamn you woman! are you trying to drain me?!" all you do is giggle in response. Muzan's eyes widen with the dawning realization that this will not be the last round, he just continues to lay down and take it.

placing his hand on your tummy as you continue to ride him all you say is "let's shoot for twins"

＊✿❀❀✿＊

A/n: its 3Am rn so sorry if this is ass but I'm exhausted and I can't tell what I'm doing

@ttt0w5 @dumblizardboi @jubilee40 @queenesther996 @scaraza @aoizaraka @lunaeclipsethesimp @nikki-11 @chuuberrysworld

@lovingyeet

Sneak Peak for Yoriichi x reader ←

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #ds #muzan #muzan kibutsuji #Kibutsuji #muzan x reader #muzan kibutsuji x reader #🍓ask are open

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schoenpepper · 13 days

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Here Kitty Kitty Kitty (Housewardens)

Intro: You're a wild little thing, aren't you? Let's see how the NRC dorm leaders deal with you, then.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, not much i think idk tell me if i should pop a warning somewhere, it's reaaally long

A/N: My goodbye gift before I die in college. Not that I'd be too busy though, my prof list isn't even complete yet. Hollywood lied to me about college it all sucks (not even started first day yet). Oh this was a request btw so I hope you like it anon. Even though I'm not sure I really followed through with the request I'm sorry.

Masterlist

Headcanon order (on the what he thinks of you part):

Fierce, reckless, territorial, soft to people close to you

You tried to tell Neige you weren’t interested in the National Arcane Academy Culture Fair, you really did. But your best friend is a lot less of a pushover than he seems to be, hanging onto your arm and pulling you right to the middle of the chaos. NRC is dark, dreary, and every corner seems to be black and covered with spiderwebs. Which, honestly, is quite the refreshing turn from the bright white glitter you’d gotten used to in RSA.

“Their science club is doing a cafe!”

The black-haired, starry-eyed boy points at a spot on the map. “It’s not too far from this place, maybe we can drop by and try out their treats.” he smiles happily. You look away (two years is not enough time to get used to the sparkles that magically appear whenever he beams) and sigh. “Where are the dwarves? Won’t they enjoy going to the cafe more than I would? I told you I was just fine sitting on a bench somewhere until the SDC.”

“Huh? Oh, you’re right. Where are they—” you pull him back as he turns, but not before he bumps into someone.

“I’m so sorry! I wasn’t looking…”

“Hm? It’s fine, oh hey, aren’t you that superstar on the news?”

The ginger is getting uncomfortably close to your friend’s personal space, so you get in front of Neige, shielding him from this nosy NRC student.

“Y/N!” Neige gives you a worried look, tugging on your sleeve, “I should apologize.”

“What? He said it’s fine already.”

“Ace, are you disturbing these visitors?”

At the sound of the new voice, the young man in front of you straightens up almost unnecessarily straight, back taut and expression nervous. A short student with strawberry red hair is accompanied by a tall student with glasses and green hair. The redhead seems very uptight, with the way he drags down this ‘Ace’ person to his level by the collar to chastise him from apparently ‘disturbing’ you. Neige waves from behind you, trying to stop them while making sure not to leave your circle of protection. “No, we bumped into him, it was my fault really.”

“Ah, I see,” he nods as he lets go of the other person’s collar, “my apologies that you had to see that shameful act. If you need anything, please let the culture fair committee members know, you will recognize them by this badge.”

“Cool, but we’re just going to the cafe. Thanks for the help, bye,” you cut the conversation short and pull Neige away.

“Y/N, that was very rude.”

You shrug, “What was I supposed to do? Didn’t you see that guy has an on and off switch for exploding like an active volcano? Did you want to be on the receiving end of his next outburst?”

“Don’t be so judgmental, Y/N, you barely know the person,” Neige sighs.

“I don’t need to know him.”

Exchange program:

It turns out that you did, in fact, need to know him. Neige somehow managed to convince you to sign up for an exchange student program between RSA and NRC, so you got sorted into Heartslabyul and the guy you insulted at the culture fair is now your housewarden.

Ace and Deuce are okay, if not a few cells short of a brain sometimes. You do enjoy getting caught up in their shenanigans whenever the dorm leader and his eight hundred something rules get a tad bit too stifling. At some point, their dumb (affectionate) tactics manage to work their way into your heart, so you begrudgingly call them friends.

You think Cater’s a good guy, if not a bit social-media-obsessed. You don’t mind having him nearby because he generally just chats about random things. As long as you manage to put up with him asking for a pic every once in a while, he’s not awful. Trey is a comforting presence. He may or may not have Pavlov’d you with the way he always has a sweet treat with him, making you calmer and more susceptible to behaving within his general vicinity.

Riddle is a whole ‘nother thing altogether; you make him mad. Er, madder than usual, at least. Something must be in the tea in Heartslabyul because you and the housewarden in the same room is a guarantee for a beheading. Usually you, but there have been a fair number of innocent victims who’d just happened to get caught up in your squabbles. Riddle is a flame and you’re a tankful of gasoline, always with a witty comeback or something else that’s sure to make every situation worse.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Think a dry, wooden cottage smack dab in the middle of the woods and a wildfire. That’s how you and Riddle get along. You’re hot tempered; pot, meet kettle. You’re sarcastic and snippy, traits that he most certainly does not appreciate. Every time he’s lecturing you about something or the other, you speak. And every word that comes out of your mouth makes him want to collar you.

…Another one? How did his dorm somehow get stuck with the most ‘act first, think later’ individuals? You give Riddle a headache, but don’t worry, he’s all too used to it. He will bail you out of trouble and every stupid situation you find yourself in, but also, he will assign you a 5000 word apology essay each time he does.

Riddle gets it. It’s a sign of disrespect when people touch your things without your explicit consent, and he’d get mad too if it was him in that situation. Does, however, do a double-take when he sees you tackle someone to the ground after you hear them insult Neige, screaming something about “your people”. Turns a blind eye.

Since…since when have you and that duo been so close? He’s not mad (for once). But he does feel rather…upset. You’re always such a spiky individual, so to see you almost melting into the couch, head on Deuce’s lap as he patted your hair and legs over Ace’s, it’s almost surreal. He’s not angry, no, but then why does he still feel unhappy?

Love story climax:

“I just don’t understand. Why do I feel so uncomfortable when I see Y/N together with other people?”

Trey hums from where he’s standing in the kitchen, letting Riddle know that he’s listening while whipping the bowl of cream.

“You’re smart,” Trey chuckles, “you’ll figure it out.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and looks back down at the chopping board, cutting off the top of another strawberry. It wasn’t an illness, but maybe if he diagnosed it like one, he could arrive at a proper conclusion. He mentally retraces his steps and every unpleasant feeling that had welled up inside him. He feels okay, good maybe, when he sees you. He gets mad when you retort while he’s trying to discipline you, but even then, he seems to have started to find it rather…cute? And he gets unreasonably anxious when you’re so close to your friends.

…No. No. Absolutely not.

Riddle Rosehearts is not in love with you.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

You still make him mad, but now instead of being collared, you just need to coax him a little and this strawberry shortcake is ready to fold like a collapsible tent. Make it up to him by being sweet and loving him lots, okay? If it’s to other people, he doesn’t really care as long as it doesn’t get violent. You are exempt from the apology letters though, congrats (he thinks that time writing them could be better spent with him).

Riddle probably needs heart medication at some point, you’re going to drive him either insane or to his inevitable death. He gets a lot more protective of you now because you’re his partner, but please please please at least try not to get hurt. Or try to consider if you might get hurt before doing something. Or how about this, you call him up before you make any decision at all?! Yeah. Heart attack.

Honestly, he probably doesn’t realize that you have a tendency to be overly possessive and territorial of him. Riddle isn’t exactly the type of guy to frequently get love confessions (he should be), you know? So the only time he nottices is when you catch him in the middle of equestrian club meetings or something, and he’s just a step too close to some newbie. Tells you to keep it down and assures you, his love for you is real and unchanging.

Happy guy. He thinks he’s silly when he gets so giddy at the smallest things you do, like kissing the back of his hand, but he can’t exactly stop the somersaults his heart does whenever you’re being so affectionate with him. Regardless, it’s quite rude to make public displays of affection, so be reserved and try to keep it all in private. Will blush at every little thing until like, two years into the relationship.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Neige’s words are cut short when you tackle the hyena beastman to the ground. He looks at you, horrified, and was likely about to chastise you before you pulled out a familiar leather wallet from the beastman’s pocket. “Thief,” you hiss, “you picked the wrong students to mess with.”

“Tsk, [laugh with me].”

The hyena rolls around and you’re unable to control your own movements, rolling with him. You’re lying on the ground when the magic snaps but he’s already running away, Neige’s wallet in hand. “Oh no you don’t!”

You weave through the crowd of students and booths, trying to keep your eyes trained on the mop of caramel hair that was zooming farther and farther away from you. You finally spot him by one of the stages, where he sprints by a tall lion beastman who catches him by the scruff of his neck like a kitten. You come to a stop, panting lightly as you glare at the lion beastman. “Is this guy a friend of yours? He has something of mine, so you better have him give it back quick or I’ll—”

“Ruggie,” The lion yawns, “no stealing during the culture fair.”

“Finders keepers!”

“Ruggie.”

“Fine.”

You get Neige’s wallet back and immediately turn tail and leave. These NRC students are freaks (no stealing during the culture fair? then it’s okay to steal any other time?).

Exchange program:

Something something it’s better to make friends than enemies. While not a saying you’ve ever given a fuck about before, it’s hard not to care when it led you to where you are now. Due to a mass voting in RSA for whoever to send to the exchange program, you’ve been bolted out as the sacrificial lamb (that’s what you get for always picking fights). Savanaclaw takes you in because you wrestle one of their dorm members to the ground on your very first day.

Jack Howl is probably one of the closest things you’ll see to another RSA student in this place. You get along well with him because he doesn’t take your quips at face value (or rather, he doesn’t care for your insults and dry sarcasm). Ruggie takes a bit more getting used to, but he’s a really cool dude when you manage to keep all your valuables away from arm’s reach.

And Leona…he’s like a stray cat. And you’re also a stray cat. And you’re in the same dark alley, coexisting together. You ignore each other most of the time unless the other gets a tad bit too close. It’s not too bad when the boundaries are in place.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

He’s too tired and sleepy most of the time to deal with your temper. Not as if you can do anything about it though, try as you might, you can never win against Leona. You can talk crap about how lazy he is or whatever, he doesn’t care, but whenever you even attempt to fight him you’re already subdued one way or another. Leona thinks you should pick and choose your battles well.

While Leona is a big believer of instincts, there’s a fine line between believing and charging in like a bull seeing red at the first tingle of a gut feeling. He’ll let out a sigh but still, he’ll fish you out of trouble and claim you’re bothering his naptime and he’ll totally leave you to fend for yourself the next time the consequences of your stupid actions find you (he will not).

He’s a lion, of course he’s territorial. So he understands your need to stake your claim on a certain place or item, as long as it’s not something he’d already claimed as his own. Leaves you about it. Territorial about people though? Same thing. Do as you will, he can’t muster the energy to care.

A low growl is emitted from his chest, pupils constricted into pinpricks, ears and tail stiff—Leona isn’t dumb. He knows that the instinctual actions of his body mean something, and in this case, it means he’s annoyed watching you be all buddy buddy with Ruggie. You, the little porcupine you are, laughing so easily with the guy you swore was your enemy, it makes him gnash his teeth in anger (envy).

Love story climax:

He can’t get you out of his head.

The few months you’ve been at NRC, you’ve started to become an existence that he didn’t mind constantly having around. He’d found you annoying at first, so why is it that now, just seeing you so happy with Ruggie is enough to drive him insane? He keeps his eyes closed but he can’t sleep. You’re still lingering in his vision, a hazy mirage by the moonlight of the savanna. Why can’t he stop thinking about you?

Why can’t he stop thinking about your hair and how soft it looked to touch? Why can’t he stop thinking about how incredible your skin would feel on his? Why can’t he stop thinking about your lips…?

Fuck.

Leona rolls over in his bed, burying his face in a pillow. Maybe if he suffocated to death he wouldn’t be haunted by thoughts of you. But, if you’re so willing to be close to Ruggie, why not Leona? He could be your…friend too. Do you already think of him as a friend? You tend to run to him with that stupid smile and chatter away even when he tells you to go away, is that a sign that you saw him as some sort of confidant? Whatever.

Leona’s not good with emotions, but he’s the farthest thing from a coward.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Okay wildfire, Leona likes it, but you need to tone it down a bit unless you want your ass handed back to you on a platter. No he’s not threatening you, it’s just that you should already know the folks in NRC aren’t scared of fights. No he doesn’t care that you’re not scared of fights. Stop picking fights. If you sass him back enough he will sling you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

There’s a reason why he always has one hand on you, whether on your hip or the back of your neck. It’s not because he’s a clingy kitty (stop teasing, he’s not a cat!), rather, it’s so he can easily stop you when a situation arises and you decide on something he wishes you didn’t decide on. Now that you’re in a relationship, he’ll sit you down and start a long discussion on why you should learn to think before you act.

Let’s get something straight, you are part of his territory, not the other way around. He’s just as protective and possessive of you as you are to him, if not more, so pretty much everyone knows to book it when they see you two together. Any poor soul who has a crush on either of you quickly get the picture.

Tsk, you’re so clingy (affectionate). Unlike most guys on the list, Leona doesn’t give two shits about other people, ergo, he doesn’t care when you kiss or touch him in public. In fact, he encourages it. Go ahead, mark him up. But if he reciprocates, he’ll tell you he’s just doing what you’ve been doing, so you have no right to refuse.

You knew it was instantly trouble when the person he bumped into had all the tells of a bad mood. You push Neige behind you while he apologizes profusely to the stranger. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there, I’m so sorry!” His words obviously went unheard because this annoyingly tall NRC student only grimaced, and you know from experience that when someone bares their teeth at you, it means they haven’t forgiven your pitiful apology.

“You can’t see where you’re going, hah, maybe I should squeeze you ‘til your eyes pop out? Maybe you’ll see it then?”

Let it be known that though you were half this asshole’s size, that did not mean you were going to take this lying down.

“Hey, back off. He said it was an accident.”

You feel Neige tugging on your sleeve. “Hey, Y/N let’s just—”

“I don’t care if it was an accident, I’m in a slump and you just made it worse, y’know?”

“Well I don’t care if you don’t care. You better back off before I take your slump and shove it down your stupid—”

Another unfamiliar figure approaches, this one shorter than the asshole, with purplish-white hair and glasses, yet somehow looking just as dangerous with the kind smile he has on. He gives the guy in front of you a very pissed-off look behind the carefully maintained grin. You think he might be trying to whisper, but it’s not very quiet.

“Floyd! I told you to sell the drinks while Jade and I are gone, what are you doing here?”

“Ehhh, but I didn’t feel like selling drinks.”

They’re gone before you even know what’s going on.

The interaction only cemented what you’d known before you even got here; everyone in NRC is a weirdo.

Exchange program:

Apparently, someone’s great idea for a prank is signing you up to be an exchange student to NRC. So, hurray.

You’re plopped into Octavinelle because the very reliable headmaster of NRC drew lots from some magical (rigged) thing. It doesn’t take you too long to realize that the quick-to-violence guy you’d met a little while back is one of the frontrunners of the dormitory. Thankfully, your second meeting has Floyd in a better mood than before, and he decides that you’re interesting before bestowing you your very own nickname; catfish. You do not appreciate it.

Jade is easy enough to get along with, you’ve discovered it’s good to just do as he says and as long as he has nothing to gain from it, he won’t torment you (too much). Though, he does make your hackles rise every once in a while because dear Seven he gives you the heebie-jeebies, even despite the perfectly polite thing he has going on.

Azul, it takes you way too long to befriend. He starts off avoiding you almost entirely, like you’re a contagious disease (if only you knew). You’re not the type to suck up to anyone, and definitely not the type to force close proximity with someone who seems to hate you, so you leave him alone. Eventually, one potion explosion, two torn contracts, and one messed up lounge later, you and Azul become acquaintances. Friends, maybe. Uh, tentatively.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Azul thinks you’re unnecessarily high-strung. Well, where do you get the energy to always be so combative and hot-tempered? He’d rather stay away from people like you when business isn’t involved. He’s one to always keep calm and cool after all, he doesn’t think he’d get along with you at all.

Your tendency to act according to your nature and intuition and just general however you feel like acting, it’s an enigma for sure. Azul prefers a plan and at least three other backup plans, so you running headfirst into any situation makes him sigh and take another step back from you. Sevens know it might be contagious (does not call you stupid to your face, but to your back? Absolutely).

The first time he saw you almost bite Floyd’s head off for just touching your things without your permission, it was enough for him to put another strike on his record. Oh dear, you really are a handful, aren’t you? Does not realize your territorialism extends to people until Jade showed him what happened to the last student that tried messing with one of the dwarves.

Azul thinks he needs new glasses. Is that you? Looking so sweet and cuddly with your friends? Really? He gets flashbacks to when you almost scratched his eyes out that time he tried roping you into one of his contracts. Now seeing you all clingy with that celebrity, he feels…uncomfortable. It must be because you’re acting strange (he’s not jealous, thank you very much).

Love story climax:

“Yeah their food is crazy good,” you grin at Neige, helping him choose a few items on the menu, “as long as the bill is paid, at least.”

While Azul is flattered at your actions to recommend the Mostro Lounge to your closest friend who’d dropped by for a visit, there’s an annoying, itchy, gnawing feeling in one of his hearts that makes him unable to sit still. He pushes your original waiter aside and approaches your table with his little notepad, shooting you the most charming smile he’s able to give. He taps his pen against the paper to get your attention. “Y/N, I’m so glad to see you stop by again. I assume you’ll have the usual?”

“Oh, hey Azul,” he does not fail to notice the way your tone gets softer with him, “yes please. And can you add some other dishes for my friend here? Maybe two or three of your most popular ones, just so he can try them.”

Azul nods, jotting down your order. Then, he places a hand over his chest, grinning, “Of course, and just for you, it’s free of charge!”

It doesn’t take him long to confess now that he knows you like him too.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Thinks it’s hot 100%, he will die on this hill. While he still doesn’t appreciate you constantly getting into fights with other people, seeing you angry is so interesting to him. Also, you turn down the sarcasm with him, so he can fully enjoy seeing you tear someone a new one. Will not stop you unless it’s beginning to get physical.

His hair is about to turn white. Except, it’s already white. Anyway, the point is that you stress him out very much, as you being reckless means you tend to get into situations that isn’t in his Plan A. Or B. Or C. He bails you out of trouble with a calm smile and an eloquent speech, and it’s usually enough to resolve the situation. This doesn’t mean he likes you having virtually no self-control or self-reflection skills though, you’ll have to have a long talk with him (communication is key).

Azul thinks it’s cute when you let him pop your personal bubble, and he’s very happy to watch you try to pick a fight with anyone who gets too close to either you or him (keyword being try, he does his best to stop any actual fights from happening). He doesn’t mind you seeing him as part of your ‘territory’, as long as he gets something in return (and you don’t get too suffocating).

Watching you curl up into him whether in public or private gets him flustered, but especially in public. Angelfish, the big bad businessman has a reputation to uphold, you know? Still, he can’t find it in himself to push you off when you’re just so adorable like this, knowing how feisty you typically are. Do try to save it for private spaces though, he would also like to cling onto you shamelessly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

Something is off about the person Neige bumped into. Call it a gut feeling, or maybe it was the way the brown haired student was instantly alert, sweeping the white haired boy to a ‘safer’ distance before deciding on whether or not it was worth it to actually face you and Neige. You’re not sure what exactly is wrong, but your intuition is saying that this is not the kind of person your all-too-naive friend is supposed to fraternize with.

“It’s fine.”

His answer is curt, and he steers the other boy away immediately. You share a look with Neige, when you click your tongue and pull him along to find a map.

“They seemed nice.”

You hope there will not come a day when your friend is at the mercy of people with bad intentions, as it is very likely that he’d be eaten alive. “They seemed like bad news. Everyone here seems like bad news.” You reply, finally finding the botanical gardens where the cafe had been set up. You sit across from Neige at a table where some student takes your orders. Neige asks for a caramel macchiato with extra caramel and some macarons, and you opt for something a little less diabetic. “Don’t say that, Y/N. They didn’t even do anything to us, even though I was at fault for bumping into them. Isn’t that nice?”

You roll your eyes, “It’s nice that they didn’t, what, beat us up? Have higher standards, LeBlanche.”

“They seem like they’d make for good friends, that’s all,” he laughs softly.

“You think that of everyone.”

“Maybe you should give it a try.”

Exchange program:

Neige’s great plan to get you more “accustomed” to people is to throw you to NRC in the school’s newly-cooked-up exchange student program. You can’t stop him, because he really is only thinking of the best for you, but it doesn’t mean you have to like it, right? You get put in Scarabia because they have a lot of room.

Jamil is…okay. He’s a lot of things, but mostly, he’s not someone you’d ever find back at RSA. He’s a stressed out nanny most of the time, but there are a few moments when he feels more morally gray than people should probably be.

Kalim, however, you get along with splendidly. With him as your housewarden, you almost feel like you’re back with your normal circle of friends. Except Kalim is like, horrendously richer than them (and a bit more airheaded, though you think that could still be debated).

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Sorry, but most of your sarcasm is going to bounce right off Kalim’s head. He will not notice it unless you’re really blunt about it, in which case, why? It’s not easy to be mad at someone who’s so genuine all the time, and being unnecessarily mean to him is just, well, mean. It’s best to just go along with him. You can’t win against this type of person.

Twinning! No, seriously, you’re two cookies cut from the same dough, with the exact same cookie cutter. You and Kalim are exactly the same in this kind of thing, and it drives Jamil absolutely insane. Sorry to say but whatever trouble you stir up you’re going to have to face yourself; Kalim is no help, he rarely even has to face the consequences of his own actions, much less yours.

Kalim is the kind of guy to unintentionally get too close, like, all the time. No he doesn’t mean it, but it also doesn’t help when your instincts go nuts because he borrowed a pencil without asking. He does notice that you’re very protective of your stuff, but he doesn’t really notice what he does most of the time, though he tries to respect your boundaries. Does not notice it translates to people.

Oh hey! You’re hanging out with Neige, that’s so cool, can he come with? No…? You want some time with your friend because he’s only visiting for a short time? That’s cool…yeah, he can give you guys space. It’s not very often that the Al-Asim heir finds something that makes him feel disappointed or upset, but this is certainly one of them. And the worst part is, he doesn’t even know why.

Love story climax:

You’re such a sight to behold.

Kalim wonders if Neige knows how lucky he is, able to touch you and hug you like he does. You don’t even fight back, only returning the embrace with a smile. There’s a sharp pain in Kalim’s chest and he wonders what he has to do in order for you to let him that close. He’s your friend too, isn’t he? It’s…so unfair.

“Kalim?”

Jamil approaches him with a worried expression. “Are you okay? You’ve been staring at the fountain for a while.”

He sees the change in Jamil’s face when he notices that it’s you sitting by the fountain. “I see.” The words make Kalim laugh. He rests his elbows on the railing and leans forward, resting his chin on his palms. Of course, Jamil would know. Jamil would understand. Jamil can see the blooming feelings in his chest that he himself took far too long to get.

He wonders if you know.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being in a relationship does not make Kalim able to detect sarcasm. If you ever try to sass him, he will take it at face value. Anyway, now that you’re this close, it’s easier to understand that with his background, Kalim has never wanted for anything, and no one ever really says no to him. He has a tendency to not hear what you’re saying sometimes, only believing in what he wants to hear. You’re going to need to find some time to discuss this with him.

The only way that this would differ from when you were just strangers/friends with Kalim, is that Jamil is now kind of obligated to help you out when you find yourself in situations you can’t (and likely don’t want to) talk your way out of. At some point he just hypnotizes you to stay out of trouble, at least for a weekend, so he can breathe. Between you and Kalim, he’s probably about to overblot again.

Are you jealous? Kalim laughs it off and hugs you, promising he only loves you and no one else! It’s unlikely he understands the nuances, but Jamil assures you it’s better that way. Your protectiveness goes a bit unnoticed, if only because he’s used to bodyguards and being protected, and it’s also very unlikely that he notices your possessiveness.

Kalim lives for displays of affection! Physical touch, gift giving, words of affirmation—his most fluent language is every love language ever. You want to hug in the middle of a crowd? Sure, he might lose you in the throng of people, after all. Want to kiss? Why not? Make sure not to miss his lips, okay? Private, public, with an audience or alone, Kalim will love you and he will do it in a way that you will never doubt his feelings for you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t—oh! You’re one of Vil’s friends, right?” Neige holds out a hand to the purple-haired boy for a handshake while you look on with a raised brow. “Um, Epel, I think, is what he called you?”

This Epel kid puts on a smile and shakes Neige’s hand, but it’s easy to tell it’s fake. He’s looking around nervously, as if to ascertain that no one sees him holding hands with Neige, and he takes it back as quickly as he’d put it out. “Right, I need to go, it was nice seeing you,” Epel laughs awkwardly and attempts to leave. He’s rooted in place once his name is called out by someone tall, blonde, and annoyingly pretty. You know from watching your friend’s works that this is the person who often played his rival; Vil Schoenheit. He does not give you the impression that he considers Neige a friend the way that Neige sees him go be.

“Epel, it’s time to go back for rehearsals,” he snaps at the younger boy, before putting on a perfectly practiced smile as he turned to Neige, “apologies for the trouble, we’ll leave you be now.”

And they walk away.

Your friend next to you is waving happily while you cross your arms.

(Clearly, that pompous-looking peacock has something against Neige.)

“It’s a shame, I wanted to introduce you to Vil, but he seems very busy.”

You scoff lightly, but at the very least, you try to mask your distaste. There’s no need for you to tell him that Vil likely hates his guts and the very dirt he steps on, not unless the other makes a move on it. “I don’t need to know anyone here,” you roll your eyes and hold onto his wrist, pulling him away, “let’s just find that cafe. Botanical gardens, right?”

“Right!”

Exchange program:

Due to a few…accidents, the faculty members of RSA have chosen you to represent the school in an exchange student program (they want you shipped off to NRC, like, bad). Pomefiore is the very lucky winner of the “which dorm should this kid be in” raffle, which means hell for you.

Epel is surprisingly funny. He’s probably one of the prettiest people you’ve ever met (and RSA is filled with pretty boys), yet his natural way of doing things is so crude, for lack of a better word. He feels good to chill with, and escape from all the prissiness that the dorm (and its housewarden) has to offer. Rook, though, you stay far away from. Sometimes when you’re alone, you feel like someone is watching you. And it’s probably him.

If there was anyone in this entire school that you absolutely loathe, it’s the world-renowned model actor blah blah blah Vil. He cannot stand your flippant attitude and you cannot stand his everything.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Vil does not know who Jesus Christ is, but I assure you that if he did, the name would be on his tongue 24/7. You don’t stand a chance in a verbal or physical fight with Vil, so you’ve learned to settle for making stupid comments behind his back. That he can still hear. He finds you very frustrating to work with, but he does love a challenge. You’ll learn to be more elegant by the time he’s done with you (you will not).

Part of the ‘does not give a fuck’ club. Whatever mess you find yourself in is your business, do you understand? He’s not one for spoon feeding, potato, so all your problems are your own to bear. Vil thinks that basing everything off intuition and instinct is straight up barbaric, but unfortunately for both you and him, you can’t be moved to Savanaclaw.

What are you, an animal? He can understand not wanting other people to touch your possessions, but must you hiss like some sort of raccoon? Fine, he’ll back off if he must. Your possessiveness of people doesn’t escape him, he just doesn’t think it’s any of his business. However, your actions now, in part, reflect Pomefiore which is under his rule and jurisdiction. Watch how you act.

It’s such an ugly feeling, and one that Vil refuses to define. And it’s Neige again, why is it always Neige? He knows you’re close but must you be that close? You’re always against people being in your ‘bubble’, so when he sees you all over that doe-eyed rival of his, it leaves him seething. Stop holding his hand, stop whispering so close to his ear, stop ignoring Vil…please…

Love story climax:

“Mira, Mira, who is the most beautiful of them all?”

Since he already knows the answer, why does he keep asking? Vil’s never pegged himself as a masochist. Then, what the hell is he doing to himself?

“Searching. The account with most comments tagged as beautiful, Neige LeBlanche.”

…Of course.

Why is it that Neige can get what he can’t have every single time? He works just as hard, doesn’t he? If not more. Neige is the protagonist, Vil is the antagonist. Neige is the hero, Vil is the villain. Neige is your best friend.

Who is Vil to you? Do you even think about him half the amount of times that he thinks of you? Is he a stranger? An acquaintance? A naggy dorm leader that you wish to avoid as much as possible?

He’s come second to your best friend one too many times.

He’s not giving up your heart, not to Neige, not to anyone.

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Congratulations, you’ve been upgraded from annoying (derogatory) to annoying (affectionate)! While he doesn’t enjoy your cattiness too much, Vil does like a bit of bite. He’ll indulge you just a little, everything’s fine in moderation, after all. Just make sure you know when to tone it down, darling.

Vil is a responsible person, and he expects you to be responsible too. If you pick a fight all on your own, he has no qualms letting you face the consequences by yourself. But he’s not heartless. If it really is too much for you to handle, or if it’s not your fault, he’s more than happy to help you mediate things (or beat someone up idk).

Jealousy isn’t pretty, but he rather likes the color on you. This man is beloved by literal millions so you’ll have a hard time keeping him all to yourself. But if it’s any consolation, his love is all yours, alright? Vil wouldn’t mind a possessive lover just as long as you know your place. If you think of him as part of your territory? Well, why not?

Vil Schoenheit has a reputation to keep. He can’t just let you do whatever; he’s a public figure. So all your lovey dovey-ing will have to wait until you and him are behind closed, locked, chained doors with shut windows covered by heavy curtains, do you understand? If you do, then feel free to adore him as much as you want to. He will return your affection in kind.

“I didn’t notice you there, sorry!”

“It’s fine…gosh these normies are so clumsy, can’t even walk without tripping over their own feet…though I guess I’m not one to talk.”

Your sense of hearing has an impeccable range, at least, more than enough to hear this walking matchstick’s grumbling that he’d likely meant to keep to himself. You glare at him and push Neige back, rolling up your sleeves. This guy might be tall, but he’ll bend to your level with a nice kick at the groin. “What’d you call my friend, you blue-raspberry-flavored lightstick?”

“Y/N, stop it!”

He squealed, seemingly panicking as he backed away. “What the, I say a few words and you pick a fight irl? That’s so lame.”

“I swear to the Seven if another stupid word leaves your—”

“Threat detected.”

A cute, blue-haired (blue-flamed?) robot kid is pointing some pretty big laser guns your way, so you’re forced to take a step back, watching him slowly lower them. “Hello, please refrain from threatening my big brother, or I’ll have to annihilate you.” The kid warns you with a chipper tone of voice, but he’s glaring at you harshly.

“Y/N,” Neige whispers, “let’s just go.”

You weigh your options and decide that, even though you can probably take that six-foot gremlin, it’s very unlikely you’ll come out unscathed with the adorable death machine in the mix. You send the man one last glare while your friend pulls you away from possible homicide.

Exchange program:

The greenhouse going up in flames was definitely not your fault. Uh, totally unrelated sentence aside, you’ve been chosen to represent RSA to go on an exchange student program to NRC. Because no one from Ignihyde was at the meeting (physically), they couldn’t exactly turn you down. Most people ignored the panicking tablet, anyway.

Ortho is a sweetheart, you’ve found, when you’re not threatening to de-ball his beloved older brother. But the catch is that you can’t spend much time with him without also spending time with Idia. Which, ew.

Your housewarden is someone you barely ever saw. But you’ve taken it upon yourself to annoy him as much as humanly possible (no you’re not petty who said that), so you usually camp outside his door to spook him from ever leaving. This escalates to occasional talks through the door, which turns into him slipping you a controller, to him realizing you can’t play if you don’t see the screen, to actually letting you hang out in his room.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

Make no mistake, Idia’s tongue is just as poisonous as yours, if not more. The combination usually leads to trash talk that once made Ortho splash the two of you with cold water. He thinks you’re funny, but you’re both petty so most verbal fights turn to you two swatting at each other like children.

Bro, don’t you have a strategy for every level? You can’t win if you just wing it all the time, y’know? Idia’s the type of gamer who spends several hours at a game’s wiki page just to find the best route to the finish line, so you being as you are kinda gives him a headache. And look, he’s not helping you out, okay? None of his business.

What…you chill in his room but don’t let him have some of your honey butter potato chips? That’s lame af, but like whatever. He notices the people thing when he sees you through one of the cameras (that he did not plant nuh uh) in school, about to commit murder because someone called Ortho things neither you nor Idia appreciate. Hey, he’s rooting for you.

It took him like three weeks just to be able to sit two meters away from you without you bitching about it, so Idia is, understandably, a bit peeved when he sees you practically when he finds you hugging Ortho. He shouldn’t be annoyed, it’s Ortho, for sevens’ sake! But it’s not like he can just stop feeling frustrated. He can’t stop feeling disappointed. He can’t stop feeling…wait, what is he feeling? Jealousy? No! Absolutely not!

Love story climax:

He has to look away when you turn your head, lest he get caught in the act of totally-not-staring. He tries to focus on the game and on the way his character is moving on the screen.

But why is it that he feels like it’s a waste of time?

He loves gaming! The online world is his passion, his everything. But when you’re sitting right beside him, he thinks he’d prefer to admire you, adore you, instead of beating his high score at Kingdom Odyssey: Rise of Dragonheart. He takes another peek at your pretty face, glowing by the light of the screen. Your features morph into one of excitement, and he feels his heart lightening too when he catches your bright smile.

“I won! You lost, suck it!”

He doesn’t even mind you gloating, because your smug smirk is just…

Ew. Gross. Blegh.

It’s like he got turned into a shoujo manga character right there. Idia turns back to the screen. “Dumb luck, noob. Next round it’s gg for you.”

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

He doesn’t fight with you as often…but he still fights with you. Nothing serious of course, but trolling each other has become as much of a love language as quality time is. Idia really does enjoy trash talking with you the most, if only because you turn it into a competition. When you lose, he makes you do something silly. Like uh, marrying his character in Sunfall Brookes…

Worry not! Idia, being the super awesome and totally cool genius he is, has whipped something up so that Ortho is behind you at every turn. He can’t support your stupidity irl most of the time, but having his little brother (who is fully equipped with deadly laser guns) back you up is probably good enough. So it’s fine, you’re fine, worse comes to worst Ortho’ll pick you up and fly you right back to your loving boyfriend (who may or may not be waiting to hear about your stupid actions).

While you do share your potato chips now, it seems to have become a bit more troublesome. Like, what do you mean does he love Moonkiss Eclipse the Magical Sparkle Girl more than you? Of course he loves you more (pssssst Ortho can you hide the body pillow before my s/o pops me into a body bag). Your main enemy will be the thousands of fictional characters that Idia loves, so good luck!

Idia’s not like, super great at public displays of affection. He’s not great in public, in general. Your clinginess and kisses and whatnot will have to wait until you’re back at either his or your room, ‘kay? It’s worth it though, you get to see a shy, blushy Idia with flaming pink hair.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“I AM FINE, HUMAN! YOU CANNOT INJURE ME WITH YOUR WEAK HUMAN BODY!”

Neige’s sheepish apology is met with a loud, annoying, obnoxious response. It makes you want to deck the green haired man in the face just for damaging your eardrums. “Hey, cut it out, will you? You’re loud,” you click your tongue, glaring at him, “and very annoying.”

“HOW DARE YOU CALL ME ANNOYING, HUMAN?! I WILL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I, SEBEK ZIGVOLT, ONE OF MALLEUS-SAMA’S MOST LOYAL RETAINERS, AM A FIGURE OF—”

You figure you’re unlikely to get anything useful out of this student whose head seems very deep inside his own ass. Just as you’re planning your escape route (or how to get away with murder), a voice that successfully stops the blabber arrives.

“Sebek?” a beautiful horned fae intercedes from the sidelines, “I thought you were with Silver and Lilia.”

“MY LIEGE!”

This is probably your cue to leave.

With your hand wrapped around Neige’s wrist, you whisk him far far away from this school’s legion of freaks. As good as the eye candy (the horned fae) was, another word from the green weirdo is bound to have you arrested after socking him in the gut.

“Y/N? Where are we going?” Neige asks hesitantly.

“To the cafe,” you answer curtly, “then after that we’re going right back for your SDC practice, okay? I cannot stand one more second with all these NRC students around.”

Exchange program:

RSA held a very, very random name drawing for the exchange student program, and surprise, it’s you! And apparently, during a housewarden meeting, Diasomnia offered to be your dorm during your stay (no one needs to know Diasomnia’s housewarden wasn’t there).

You start sort-of acquaintances with Silver, but he’s actually an amazing antithesis to you. Since, you know, you’re always blazing in your fiery temper and he’s just…asleep. Maybe not antithesis. Anyway he’s a good friend.

Being in the same dorm as Sebek does not make you tolerate him more. In fact, you butt heads so much that Lilia’s assigned someone in Diasomnia to always be watching the two of you when in the same room. Lilia is cool, he’s cute, he’s super fun. You get along nicely with him once you’ve gotten used to being jumpscared.

Malleus, to be honest, you barely ever saw. He’s a bit stuck in his own world, and it’s not as if you cross paths often in your schedule. He’s more a bystander in your world before something (a fight with one of his retainers, you can guess which one) happens, and you finally manage to call him a ‘friend’.

What he thinks of you (before the relationship):

My, you’ve got quite some courage, saying those things in front of the Prince of Briar Valley. Malleus doesn’t mind though, in fact, he welcomes it. He sees it as a sign that you’re friends. After all, none too many would do as you do and sass him, saying such crude and bold words. As long as you don’t cross a line, the fae prince will smile with a ready retort in light fun.

He thinks your antics are amusing, to say the least. But you know that thing where his superiority complex kind of comes out every once in a while? Yeah, he sees you as entertaining. Kinda condescending. The good thing about this is that he doesn’t get mad at the situations you find yourself in, plus it only takes a snap of his fingers to clean up your mess. The bad thing is that you feel like half a court jester.

Malleus understands your natural instinct to claim some place and things as territory. He’s a dragon fae, after all, and those myths and legends of their greed do hold some degree of merit. This extends to people? How interesting. Watches on with amusement as you tackle a student to the ground for calling Lilia ‘weird’.

In all his years of living, this is the first time that anything has made him feel this way. There’s a bitter taste lingering on the back of his tongue, and neon green sparks curl and flicker around his fingers. It’s out of his control, he can’t help it; you’re so unbelievably unlike yourself right now it’s driving him insane. Why would you cuddle with Silver under a tree like this? Do you feel something for his knight? Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Love story climax:

“Beloved.”

The word is strange, weighing heavily on his lips. And yet, as he watches your sleeping figure, mind almost subconsciously erasing Silver from the picture, he finds it to be a word befitting of you. Lovely. “It will be dark soon,” Malleus whispers, and the prince is brought to his knees next to you if only so that you may hear his yearning, “it is best to return indoors and sleep there.”

Your eyes flutter open; you are a vision he cannot ever hope to erase from his mind.

“Sorry, I was,” you let out a soft yawn, stretching your limbs, “I got really tired from PE. Oh, I should wake up Silver.”

Malleus can’t help the lightning that zooms across his fingertips. You didn’t seem to notice the term he’d used for you, still addled from sleep. You’re focused on gently shaking his retainer awake.

It matters not, for you will be his soon enough.

(How could you ever hope to be more territorial than a dragon, dearest?)

What he thinks of you (in the relationship):

Being assertive and straightforward with your words is a great trait of rulers, beloved (yeah, in a relationship means he’s planning for marriage babe, keep up). Sass and sarcasm will have to be taken down a notch though, although he loves you, the faes in Briar Valley are old and not very accommodating of your hobby of wordplay. He does enjoy it, however, so feel free to speak as you wish when the two of you are alone.

In this kind of situation, he babies you a lot more. It’s not really condescension though, he believes that you can handle yourself especially since he now sees you as an equal. But Malleus is highly, if not overly, indulgent of the one he loves. Sees no need to change it unless something big happens. Is more liable to clean up after your messes, this time out of love.

Malleus thinks you’re so adorable when you’re jealous, with the way you get so fussy and protective over him. It’s not as if you really have a reason for jealousy, the prince is less ‘lusted after by many suitors’ and more feared. At least, that’s what he believes. So you only have Lilia and Silver to comfort you after a long day of fighting with his many many admirers.

Have a sense of decorum, dear, a public place is not suitable for displays of affection. Or so he says, but really, who is Malleus to stop you if you wish to be loving and sweet? He’ll melt faster than you can even say his name. He will have to hold back on reciprocating temporarily, but rest assured he has a mental tally and will be repaying you threefold once you’re in his private quarters.

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst housewardens

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too-antigonish · 3 months

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My Strange but Unified Theory of Exeunt

Last week I talked about the poem Horatio in a post about Morse and fathers and @astridcontramundum asked what I thought it meant in the context of Exeunt. Hopefully she won't be sorry she asked because here's my (as usual) long answer:

Horatio is quoted from twice in Exeunt. The first time, Prof. Fortescue is lecturing to his students at a tutorial and gives us the most famous lines:

Then out spake brave Horatius, The Captain of the Gate: "To every man upon this earth death cometh soon or late. And how can man die better Than facing fearful odds For the ashes of his fathers And the temples of his gods?"

The second time occurs just before Thursday’s has his “turn” in the same spot where Morse will many years later experience his own collapse. He says: ”’How well Horatius kept the bridge in the brave days of old.’ We'd a padre big on that out in the desert. Drumhead service just before Alamein. ‘And how can man die better than facing fearful odds?’ Always stuck with me.”

I think they used those lines to plainly tease the idea that Thursday was going to die. Prior to Exeunt airing, almost everyone thought Thursday would have to die in order to explain Morse’s never mentioning him again in the future. When Fortescue says those lines in the beginning, I think we’re supposed to think that someone—probably Thursday—is going to die heroically. Then Thursday repeats some of the poem—connecting it to his WWII service—just before he has his “spell” and it seems like more foreshadowing.

The thing about the poem though, that most people *don’t* know, is that the big surprise at the end is that Horatio *doesn’t* die. It just looks like he will: Even when his companions have abandoned the bridge because it is on the verge of collapse, Horatius remains. He stays until bridge finally does fail, and then plunges into the river below with the full weight of his armor. It is certain death and both sides stand stunned into silence by his final sacrifice.

But then, both sides find themselves even more surprised when they see the crest of his helmet beginning to rise from the water and he slowly emerges, striding towards the Roman bank. He not only survives, but arrives home to a hero’s welcome and a long life.

All of the usual narrative pieces are in place for us to expect Thursday to make the ultimate sacrifice—to die. For me, Thursday—like Horatio—does sacrifice everything, but the poem was actually foreshadowing his survival, not his death. And for Thursday, his survival is in many ways a far more difficult sacrifice than death would have been. It would have been easier for him in so many ways if he had died in defense of Sam or even fighting Lott. Instead he has to live with the ambiguous and messy aftermath.

Morse could also be Horatio in the sense that he goes to Blenheim Vale facing a high probability of death. What were the chances that the bikers would “come through” for him? That Morse went expecting to be double-crossed and killed by Lott seems much more likely to me. But I do think that Morse, like Horatio, would reason that, “If you’re going to go, then there’s no better way than defending the things that are most important to you,” and so he goes anyway.

He survives too—but unlike Horatio, his heroism will always remain a secret *and* with his realization about Thursday’s guilt and Lott’s revelation about Tomahawk’s identity, it brings perhaps more sorrow than it does victory. And, I would argue that his survival is only temporary or perhaps partial.

The gunshot scene has many possible interpretations, but at its core, my (forever unprovable) theory is that it balances out the survival foreshadowed by Horatio. Horatio was all about the audience assuming that Thursday had to die. But along with that went the assumption that of course Endeavour had to live. This is a prequel after all.

But the gunshot scene said a big, loud, “No. We can kill off Endeavour if we want to and we will.” You can go back and forth until the cows come home about whether or not the scene was simply him contemplating death, actually going through with it, or absolutely, purely symbolic and imaginative. However, I don’t think you can honestly argue that the scene doesn’t somehow connect the concepts of “Endeavour Morse,” “gun,” and “death” to each other. Somehow those concepts have to be included in any interpretation.

So this leads to my weird theory about Exeunt, which is that Russ Lewis heard everyone saying, “Well I don’t know what’s going to happen in the end, but of course we all know that Morse is going to live—so no suspense there. And Thursday, well, he has to die. I mean it’s the only way to explain why we never hear about him later.” And to this, Russ Lewis thought, “Ha! I’m going to do exactly the opposite. Thursday lives and Morse dies!”

Am I right? I will never know. Do I have more thoughts on Exeunt? You really, really don't want to know just how many.

#itv endeavour #endeavour morse #shaun evans #fred thursday #thursday thursday #roger allam #endeavour: exeunt #lays of ancient rome: horatio #kind of weird but i'm pressing the button anyway

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antennaed-shidou · 9 months

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Different places

☃︎ Micheal Kaiser x f! reader

☃︎ Warning: not prof-read,

☃︎ Misc: Word Count: 1k+ 12 days of Christmas special with the Blue Lock Boys. 7/12 days with the one and only Micheal Kaiser. Hope you enjoy it.

☃︎ In which you lived far away from your husband.

It’s been a difficult past few months. Kaiser was in Germany while {Y/n} was back in France with her family. She traveled back home around November for the holidays. She was going to fly back to Germany in December to spend time with her husband, but there were a lot of delays, and {Y/n} parents were worried for her to go home.

“I know. Hopefully, I’ll be back before Christmas. I wanna see you open your gifts.” {Y/n} was on Facetime with Kaiser on her bed.

A smile appeared on the male's face when he saw his wife smile. “Yeah if only you would’ve driven your car,” He teased his wife. He chuckled when he saw her reaction. She was always cute.

“First off the weather is horrible and you know my parents wouldn’t let me drive. Second, it’s a long ass drive. And Third it’s not like we are poor so live with it.” She flipped him off which made him laugh.

“Whatever you say, darling.”

The two of them talked all night. They even fell asleep on the phone with each other. {Y/n}’s brother even had to tell them to be quiet some times in the night. {Y/n}’s sister was even annoyed at their brother for interrupting the happily married couple. He was just jealous he was still single.

Next Morning ———

Anna was making breakfast for her family. She was making a simple breakfast that they all liked. The family could be picky at times. So Anna had to work around what is the best type of food to make for the holidays. But now it was easy since more of the family was about of the house.

{Y/n} was the first sibling to wake up. She walks into the kitchen and sees her mother cooking up some breakfast. It was nice since {Y/n} didn’t have to wake up early and cook like she does at home for Kaiser. It was her mom that had to wake up early and cook breakfast for the family. That was nice about going home for the holidays.

Kaiser was lying in bed still not feeling any energy. Even though it’s been about a month. It still felt weird to Kaiser without his wife by his side in the morning. He didn’t want to get up, so he didn’t get up. He lay in bed for a while up until 1:00 pm.

The only reason he did wake up was because he heard his phone ring. Kaiser turned over to see {Y/n} was the one calling.

“Hey babe. What have you been up to?” {Y/n} happily said.

“Just woke up, meine Dame,” Kaiser's voice was groggy and deep. It was lovely to hear from {Y/n}.

“I can tell, Mein Mann,” She teased. “I just wish I was home with you right now.”

“Me too,” Kaiser added moving his phone to the other ear. “Maybe you should steal your parent's plane.”

She sarcastically laughed, “Ha ha you are so funny, babe.”

“I know I am,” he prided himself.

“Then you’re lucky I love you, Micheal Kaiser.”

“No, I’m lucky to have married you,” He kissed at his phone. He heard a kiss sound back.

{Y/n} kept on talking and talking. She was hearing ruffling and soft nosing in the background. She ignored the noses at first thinking he was messing with the blankets and or she was hearing things. She couldn’t ignore the sound anymore when she heard her husband breathing loudly. “What the hell are you doing, babe?” She finally questioned irritated and wanting an answer as it had been going on for a while.

“Nothing for you to worry about. Just keep talking,” He voiced just barely and breathy.

They talked– Well {Y/n} mostly talked while she could hear Kasier beath and moan through the mic. They talked most of the day and never did she hear him stop. He did say a few words but they weren’t as coherent as hers. They hung up when {Y/n} had to go eat dinner with her family. Kaiser tried to get her to stay bc she did have earbuds. But she couldn’t.

Christmas went by faster than they both thought. Now they were on the phone opening each other's gifts. There were a few questionable items. But hey they were married and it was normal if it was gifts or not. The rest of the items were sweet though. The sad thing about the call was {Y/n} had no news about when she was coming home.

“Do your parents not like it when you speak German?” Kaiser asked opening another gift. He wasn’t too much paying attention the the gift but rather his attention was on his wife.

“They don’t hate it, but they don’t like it when I speak German either. But they can’t say anything bc it’s my second language. I don’t say anything when Linse speaks Hindi, no one does.” The female shrugged her shoulder. If they were going to say something to her why not say it to her sister as well?

Kaiser nodded his head. He opened the box. He pulled out the item with a thin lip smile, “Wow your mom is so creative.”

“You will wear it when you see my family again and when they visit. You’re going to appreciate that sweater.” {Y/n} raised her brow along with her voice.

“Sure I promise.” He was sarcastic even when putting the sweater down.

The day went by fast, along with the week. And the next thing it was already New Year's and this is the first year. They weren’t by each other side. Though they were calling each other on the phone so they weren’t completely apart.

“Ready for the countdown?” Kaiser says looking up at the big clock.

“Yeah, ready more than ever,” {Y/n} says looking up and down at her phone while pushing through a crowd.

“Without me?” He teased.

“Do you want me to hang up?” She stood still holding the phone.

“No, this is fine for this year, Meine Dame.”

“5!” A crowd of people shouted looking at the big clock. It was hard for people on their phones to hear the other person.

“4!”

“3!”

“2!”

“1!”

The crowd got louder and more cheerful.

“0!”

“Happy New Year!” People shouted. Some people kiss their loved ones and hug friends and family.

Kaiser stood where he was looking at his phone with a smile on his face, “Happy New Year, meine Dame.” As he was talking he felt a light tap on her shoulder. He turned around mouth dropped to the floor.

“Happy New Year to you too, Mein Mann”

Kaiser pulled his wife closer in for a kiss. It was a deep passionate kiss like it was his last kiss on earth with {Y/n}. It was like she was gone for years though it was only about two months. Kaiser missed his wife so much that he didn’t want to let go of the kiss. He went deeper and deeper into the kiss.

This was a way to start the New Year. With his beautiful wife in his hand kiss her like the last thing on earth. He loved her so goddamn much and it showed. Kaiser finally broke the kiss. “Ich Leibe Dich, meine Dame.”

a/n: I really love this one. One of my top three favorite Christmas specials.

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kiwicopia · 1 year

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🔞 MDNI | Kinktober: Thigh Riding 🔞

🎃 Prof!Gojo x Student!Fem!Reader (college) 🎃

TW: thigh riding, Gojo being a little mean, praise, licking, some biting, reader being punished a little, use of a pet name, reader gets called a slut.

tags: @stygianoir @shes-so-insane @uzxotic

Normally, it was seen as taboo for a student to be in any sort of relationship with their professor that wasn’t strictly for educational purposes. However, no one really suspected anything when it came to you and Professor Gojo. As far as the other university students could tell, he treated you like he would with any of his other students. No one noticed the occasional glances he would send your way, or how his hands would linger just a bit longer against yours when handing back a graded assignment. Everyone knew oh so little of how close the two of you really were.

It was the usual Saturday night, and Satoru busied himself with grading the latest pop quiz he issued to his classes. The sound of his red marker against paper was drowned out by your soft moans as you gripped his shoulders harshly. Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt as you dragged your needy cunt across his thigh, though he paid no mind to you. At least for now.

It drove you mad at the way he ignored you to grade papers that he could have easily taken care of tomorrow, but you knew why he did it. You stood him up last night. He had an entire night out planned for the both of you, yet you blew him off in favor of partying with friends. Satoru wasn’t happy about it at all, but you didn’t know he would punish you like this. “Toru,” you whined, but he continued ignoring you and graded papers. You huffed and leaned your face close to his neck before letting your tongue drag down the side of it. This usually got his attention, but tonight it seemed to have the opposite effect. “Pay attention to me.”

“No,” he replied coldly. His baby blues cut down at you, staring at you for a mere moment before he focused back on grading assignments. “If you want to get off that badly, then you’re going to have to do it yourself.”

You frowned. “Fine.” Your hands immediately went to the zipper of his jeans, but you only got them unzipped halfway before his hand grabbed hold of both of your wrists. “Toru-.”

“Yourself,” he reminded, his voice still cold. Your lips pursed in response, and your hands went back to his shoulders after he let go of you. The man watched you for another moment before he went back to his work, and you let out a frustrated sigh before grinding yourself against his thigh. It was clear to you that he had no intention of fucking you tonight, or even helping you out. You were completely on your own, and it frustrated you, and you knew for a fact that he knew it.

Once again, your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt as your cunt slid across his thigh. His jeans provided a good enough friction to bring you just a little bit of pleasure, but you knew it wasn’t enough. It never was, which was why he usually helped you. However, without his assistance, you really didn’t know if you’d be able to cum tonight or not. The only way to find out was to try, but it was so tedious, especially when he wouldn’t pay any attention to you.

Your hips gyrated in a slow motion on his thigh before you slid them forward. The rough material of his jeans brushed against your clit, causing you to softly moan, but the man ignored it. Satoru continued scribbling, marking paper after paper while you used his thigh to your absolute pleasure. Your tongue clicked in annoyance as your body shifted to move away. “If you’re not going to pay any attention to me, then I’ll just leave.”

Papers rustled and, before you could even get up off him, his hands gripped your hips and brought you back down. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, “not until you’ve cum on my thigh, by yourself.”

“I can’t-.”

“You can and you will.” His baby blues narrowed at you, causing you to frown in response. “If you put as much focus into it as you do your assignments, you can do it.” You huffed and moved your hips in that same motion as before, grinding against his thigh. Satoru watched you intently, his eyes trained on the small, damp spot on his jeans that came from your cunt. “There we go,” he cooed softly, “good girl.”

He was focused more on you and less on his grading now. “Does this mean you’re finished with those papers?” You asked.

A small hum came from his lips in response, and his fingers gently dug themselves into your hips. “Mm, don’t worry about that. Just focus on what you’re doing.” He glanced up, his eyes meeting yours for a split second before looking back down. The man observed your movements like he normally did, but he made no effort to help you. You bucked your hips forward and his eyes lit up as a small whine fell from your lips. “You’re a little whinier tonight.”

Granted you were always whiny, especially when he made you beg for his cock, but tonight felt different. “Maybe if someone would help me, I wouldn’t whine so much,” you told him.

His jaw clenched at your words. “If someone didn’t stand me up last night, I would be more inclined to help.”

“I told you days before-.”

“I told you a week ago that I had something planned for us,” he huffed out, cutting you off from speaking. His hands tightened their grip on your hips, and you winced slightly from it. “You must reap what you sowed, kitten.”

His thigh moved and a part of the fabric of his pants brushed roughly against your clit, causing you to moan out. Satoru’s lips spread out into a teasing smirk before he moved his thigh again, eliciting the same noise from your pretty lips. "Toru,” you moaned his name, causing him to suddenly move your hips forward, dragging your now soaked cunt against him. A pleasurable spark shot up your body as he did, and your grip on his shoulders tightened.

“Ah, look at how wet you’ve gotten in such a short time,” he teased. He kept one hand on your hip while the other cupped your face and brought it closer to his. “All it took was one night. One night without my touch, and you’ve become such a slut for it.”

His words were almost enough to make you regret going out and partying with your friends. Almost. Still, you couldn’t deny the truth in them. One night without Satoru left your body craving him, but you knew he wasn’t going to give in so easily. Not when you bailed on his plans like that. This was supposed to be your punishment, but was it really a punishment if it was this enjoyable?

“Shut up,” you mumbled, to which he chuckled. He then turned your face to the side and pressed a few teasing kisses on your cheek before trailing down your neck a bit. The sensation caused your body to shudder as you slowly fucked yourself on his thigh. The man knew it felt good. He felt the way your body shuddered with his tongue, and he took it up a notch. His teeth grazed the sensitive spot on your neck before he bit down, and his ears savored the way you moaned in response to it.

Satoru bit down a little harder, garnering another moan from your pretty lips as your cunt rode his thigh faster and faster now. He groaned, feeling his cock strain itself against the confines of not only his boxers, but his jeans as well. As much as he wanted to just bend you over and fuck you full of his cum, he wasn’t going to. No. You were going to do all the work yourself. If you wanted to cum that badly, then you were going to do it without his help. His mouth soon removed itself from your neck, leaving a string of saliva that connected his lips to your flesh, and turned your head around so that you looked directly at him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed, “you know that, right?” You stared at him with half-lidded eyes as you nodded. “Good girl,” he smiled, “and you know that I love you, right, kitten?” Once again you nodded, and his smile broadened. His lips then crashed against yours in a messy kiss, his hand that cupped your face tightening its grip only slightly while the other coaxed your hips to move faster.

The pleasure started getting to the point where it was too much. You didn’t think you would be able to reach your high like this, but you assumed that he had, in a way, helped you get there. His tongue pushed past your lips, exploring every little inch of your mouth before it rubbed against your tongue. You missed his taste, and he knew it, which was why he quickly deepened the kiss, and you almost thought he was going to tongue your throat with how far his tongue reached.

Such a thought, coupled with the immense pleasure of fucking yourself on his thigh, was enough to bring you over the edge. Your back arched and, as you pulled away from the kiss, a small cry ripped from your throat as a wave of warmth washed over your body. Satoru felt your orgasm and held you in place while your pussy drenched his thigh with your juices, soaking the fabric with them. He grinned and held your trembling body close to him, both arms wrapped around you in a secure hold.

“See? I told you that you could do it yourself.” Satoru kissed your forehead as he gently rubbed your back with one hand. “Now, promise me that you won’t blow me off again.”

It sounded more like a command than him simply asking, but your brain felt too hazy to dwell on it for long. Your head gave a slow nod as your body leaned against his. “I promise,” you said, eyes closing as your body still trembled lightly from your orgasm.

“Good, because I’d hate to have to really punish you if you do.”

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saintblk · 1 year

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*ೃ— spider’s web | NANAMI KENTO

warnings: foul language, smut, p in v, vaginal penetration, slight slut-shaming, sort of kinda sub!nanami, implied virgin!nanami, nerd!nanami, college au— gender neutral afab reader, considered to be black + thick

word count: 606 (so short i know>_<)

note: ngl idk if i like this but i been having nerd!nanami brainrot for a while i might write another part to this idk

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS INTERACT AT YOUR OWN RISK

NANAMI KENTO prided himself on his work ethic. he didn’t allow for anything, or anyone, to come between him and his perfect gpa. that included skipping out on gojo’s dumb parties, handing work in far earlier than he needed to, and spending all his free time in the library. it also included approaching professors and insisting he get to work on his own. one thing he despised most was depending on other people for a good grade.

so when you were assigned to be his partner for a research paper, he wasted no time in raising the concern with the prof before he left the lecture hall. unfortunately, he’d be quickly turned away after some speech about working with people in the real world.

as he suspected, meeting with you was as difficult as he expected it to be. as soon as you approached him for contact information, he couldn’t help but further curse your prof. you were followed by your equally loud friends, dressed in short revealing clothes. nanami, to his assumption, had you figured out in a minute.

he was not surprised by your lack of response to his texts, how little you showed up to class, and the new man he saw on your arm every week. to him, you were nothing but a manipulative little slut who had everyone wrapped around their finger, and he refused to be taken advantage of.

the position he found himself in just a few days later would say otherwise. you showed up at his dorm abruptly, informing him the library was closed for renovations neither of you knew about. he allowed you to come in and bit his tongue when you plopped down on his bed.

the last thing he expected was to have you climb atop him, tight walls enveloping his shaft as you sunk down onto his member. he couldn’t recall exactly what led to it; at least not with the way you clenched around him. while he failed to stifle his whimpers and groans, you ground your hips down against his in an attempt to force his noises out.

“lemme hear you,” you breath. “know you wanna let it out.”

as if he was waiting for those words, nanami let out a choked whine and clasped at your pudgy hips. he needily bucked his hips up into you, thrusting his aching member between your walls. a loud and sudden moan escaped your mouth, encouraging him to repeat his actions.

as he chased the unfamiliar feeling overcoming him, he mindlessly pistoned in and out of you. your nails dug into his chest and your mind went blank. every time he hit the spot inside you that made your toes curl, you felt yourself lose more and more of your sanity to him.

“f-feels so good-fuck…” he bites out.

nanami, who’d never been inside anything besides his own fists, fucked into you with reckless abandon. any concern he might’ve had about the assignment flitted from his brain as did his reservations about you. it was not long before you found sweet release and gushed onto his pelvis with nanami following close behind. despite trying to hold out the way you clenched around his manhood made it impossible. with a bruising grip on your waist, he thrust into you until he emptied his seed into your womb.

it didn’t take very long for him to knock out from exertion, only to come to with an email from you, the attached document containing a nearly complete assignment. though he might’ve thought being your partner would be absolutely pointless, it seemed you were useful for something after all.

#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x black reader #nanami kento smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #anime x black!reader #collection :: jjk #꒰ slim’s works ꒱

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ludi-ling · 5 months

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Woooooow... just saw ep 9 of X'Men 97. I may not like all of their choices, but damn do they go hard and I appreciate the execution of it. The last minute was soooo much wow. Prof X mind controlling Magneto, Magneto helmeting him and about to kill him, Wolverine stabbing Magneto and Magneto un-adamantiuming Wolvie...wooooow...

I do not know what they're going to do next. I knew Rogue would go to Magneto based on her costume alone. That's the OG terrorist Rogue/villainous Rogue costume. I might not love that decision of her going to Magneto... but based on what's happened, it makes sense. And omg, her wearing Remy's trench coat? Cryyyying. The one thing I can see with Rogue going back to the X-Men is Magneto wanting to kill Deathbit because Deathbit is dangerous.

Because I still believe Remy is coming back. I cite X-Treme X-Men and everything Rogue says to bring him back. Absolute Points? Nexus Events? They don't matter. X-Men make their own miracles. I literally said this as my thesis for why Gambit is coming back and then hours later the panel appeared on my feed lol.

One more week of me screaming, crying and throwing up.

Rogue is pissed. She's had to face a trauma she hasn't had to ever face before. I can completely understand this trajectory she's walking. It makes sense for the arc that her character is going through in this universe. The bit where she handed back the trench coat though? That killed me.

Gambit will come back. It's just a matter of how and when. I can't believe people truly think he's going to stay dead. 🤷🏻‍♀️

I truly appreciate this series for taking something we all loved as kids and spinning it into an adult story. I know it's hard - literally everyone is miserable in this show - but damn, I suppose that's life. And I guess it's hard for some fans to accept the turn this show has taken when we all expected the gentle fluff of Romy in TAS. What Romy have had so far in XM97, and eventually will have, is something far more adult and something I'm far more interested in than the non-committal flirting we got in TAS.

Don't get me wrong - there are plenty of things in XM97 I don't agree with or like. But on the whole I think it's done a really good job in (let's face it) a short amount of time of achieving something smart and thought-provoking and visceral despite its flaws. I'm actually kind of excited to see what happens next. I'm ready to be disappointed again, but I'm ready to be pleasantly surprised too.

At the very least, it has got me inspired to write Romy again. A LOT of the heartache and anger and admiration I have felt watching the show I have channelled into writing The Tailor & The Seamstress, and it's been the first time I've been genuinely excited about fic in a while. So I have a lot to thank the show for, despite all the anxiety and angst it's given me.

#questions answered #romy #rogue #remy lebeau #gambit #anna marie raven #x men 97 #x-men '97

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the-magiarcheologist · 8 months

Text

The secret life of Mathilda Weasley

I have a lot of questions about the life of Prof. Weasley before she came to Hogwarts.

First of all, Madam Kogawa tells us that Prof. Weasley was a curse-breaker for the Ministry of Magic.

...and that already raises questions! As far as I know, in the Harry Potter books and in Hogwarts Legacy, the only curse-breakers that we know of work for Gringotts. I think Prof. Weasley is the only curse-breaker we ever encounter that works for the Ministry of Magic.

But was she really working for the Ministry of Magic? In the "Art and Making of Hogwarts Legacy" book, there is a small paragraph about Prof. Weasley:

In this it says that she worked for the Ministry (where she was an 'invaluable asset', being sent on 'assignments' 👀) and then became a 'freelance' curse-breaker after she met a dashing yound wizard and went off to explore the world. So that's slightly different than what Madam Kogowa says in-game. Between the two I trust the information that we get in-game more.

And besides, further in our conversation with Madam Kogawa, she says that she met Prof. Weasley when she was in Japan and they "coordinated defensive efforts" while Kogawa herself worked for the Japanese Ministry of Magic.

I don't about you but to me "defensive efforts" sounds more like the job of an auror and not a curse-breaker. And it definitely sounds like Prof. Weasley was working for the British Ministry of Magic at that time if she collaborated with Kogowa who was working for the Japanese Ministry. Kogawa also says that she cannot tell us the specifics of her work for the Japanese Minsitry, making it all sound like it's classified information!

In Madam Kogowa's office we also find a letter from Prof. Weasley:

So we learn that they worked together near Yokohama harbour. A little research on Wikipedia tells me that Yokohama harbour was Japan's first port open to foreign ships. It opened in 1859 and after 1868 the port started trading a lot of silk with Great Britain.

But it looks like Prof. Weasley travelled a lot because she also met Prof. Onaï in Uganda. Prof. Onaï tells us that Prof. Weasley was well-known in the region and worked on "sharing magical knowledge between countries".

One thing that is remarkable though is that both Madam Kogawa and Prof. Onaï tell MC that we shouldn't ask Prof. Weasley about her time before Hogwarts. They both give the impression that whatever work Prof. Weasley was doing is something we shouldn't be talking about.

Anyway, with all that information, my impression is that Prof. Weasley was working as some kind of spy for the Ministry of Magic abroad. She used the whole 'freelance curse-breaker' as a cover and was either coordinating some secret military operations (like with Kogawa in Yokohama harbour) or making connections and gathering intel (in Uganda).

And it seems like some habits die hard because she is sort of spying on the students in Hogwarts too! She knows a lot about what MC but also Natty are up to. (At one point Natty says: "she knows more about me than I thought"). We also find this letter on her desk from the Minister for Magic himself thanking her for her thoughts on the seventh year students to recruit them for a job at the Ministry. So she is reporting some information about the students to the Ministry. But I suppose that is sort of normal for a deputy headmistress.

Anyway, all the secrecy intrigues me and I feel like there is a story there that we weren't told!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy theory #professor weasley #ministry of magic #madam kogawa

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toska-writes · 1 year

Note

Хорошего дня или ночи! Я так рад, что нашел ваш аккаунт с вашими фиками, они просто замечательные.

Если вы не возражаете, тогда у меня есть просьба. Читатель - падаван Шаак Ти, и вместе с ней она или он прибывает на Камино, проводит там несколько недель, и читатель знакомится с 99 (этого ребенка так не хватает). Вы можете сделать что-то приятное и удобное. Вы также можете добавить маму!Шаак (я знаю, что вы пишете только с помощью клонов, но сделайте исключение, пожалуйста) и Кольт.

Заранее большое вам спасибо 😘❤️

I LOVE the idea of mom Shaak ti!

“Padawans”

Summary: Shaak Ti has found herself with the company of a new padawan, with the new feet you seem to meet some very nice clones

Pairing: The Kamino parents aka Colt and Shaak Ti x GN padawan reader

Warning: NOT PROF READ, but so so much fluff

Word count: 1528

Notes: I have had such a writing block recently and honestly that’s why there hasn’t been many updates! I apologize

The huge buildings were so daunting as the ship touched down with a thud, rain banged against all surfaces it would reach. The chorus of noises fell to the background as the ships door opened.

You were the only one that seemed to leave as you pulled your cloak around you tighter.

Chill winds nipped at any exposed skin while you traversed the slippery lading pad, the light died over the horizon line.

A figure stood etched out by the warms lights that flooded the facilities behind it. Other than the eerie appearance the silhouette only radiated a calming warm through the face.

A warmness you could use right now.

The torgruta was a lot taller than you expected. The sleek blue and white lekku reached far down her front as you came face to face for the first time with your new master.

Her eyes softened at your soggy appearance. “I’m master Shaak Ti, you must be my new padawan I’m assuming.”

She stepped to the side letting you in the dry building.

“I am.” You said with a renewed pep in your step following close to the side of your new master. “And I look forward to working with you.”

An arm draped around your shoulder and a gentle hand rub your arm trying to return some warmth back into your body.

A small smile traced your lips, your eyes returned excitedly up to your master.

With a chuckle returning your gaze she spoke. “And I with you, though I do wish these were easier times but there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

Growing deeper into the kaminoian facilities you watched as many clones passed, most seemed to be younger than the ones you’ve seen exiting the temple.

They all wore the same uniform and regulated haircut. Curious eyes stole glances as you continued to walk the halls. Every once in a while a simple wave was in order for the young clones, some gave timid waves back and others gave confused looks.

Master Ti’s cheeks warmed with the small gestures you gave to the younger clones. Her heart swelled slightly each time.

Some kaminoians stoped along the way either address master Ti with things you barely understood, or welcoming you to Kamino.

The kaminoians, despite their intentions spooked a young padawan like yourself.

Heavier boots echoed down the halls loudly approaching your position.

“Ah that must be Colt with a few cadets.” You didn’t have time to question Master Ti as a tall clone turned your way.

The daunting figure wore armor head to toe, a skull like pattern was painted on the helmet with the other colors being red and a pale blue.

This was the first clone you’ve properly seen and your back straightened at the sight of him.

The clones that followed behind, despite instruction, moved and tried to pear around one another too see the new person that was on their home planet.

When you see the same face everyday it’s good to something new.

“Commander Colt.” She said with a smile as the group stoped in front of you too. “I’d like to introduce you to my new padawan Y/N.”

You could feel the hard gaze of the Commander in front of you, with a sheepish smile you gave another small wave unsure of the formalities.

“Sir.” The clone nodded at you before he turned to the general. “You do know that your padawan is dripping all over the floor correct sir?”

A laugh rattled through the tall Torgruta, a hand landed on your shoulder. “We were just about to find a remedy for that Commander no need to worry.”

A few of the boys snickered at the exchange until the helmeted head shot around quickly making you smile slightly.

“Well sir if there’s time after I’m sure your jetti could show my boys a thing or too.” Colt looked between you and your master before you looked up at her yourself.

“If you want too my padawan you may.”

You pumped your fist into the air before saying. “I’d love to master.”

Master Ti wasn’t sold on the idea of a padawan on kamino learning from her but now she couldn’t figure out how she spent the days without the eyes on her.

“Until then Colt.” She nodded her head as her lekkus swayed.

“Goodbye Commander.” You bowed your head towards the clone the formality seemed right in this case.

His own arm raised from the stiff position at his side forming into a small wave of its own.

Weeks seemed to pass by in a flash, you followed Master Ti and learned many new skills from Colt along side a young upcoming group called the domino squad. They were definitely interesting to say the least.

It wasn’t until later into your time when your master instructed you too the mess hall, apparently there was someone you haven’t met yet and of course for a meal.

You scanned the room for anything that seemed out of the ordinary but only a few clones sat at the tables.

Your eyes focused on a figure slumped slightly over a far table in the corner. A broom and a bucket leaned against the wall. Two other clones seemed to be talking rather loud with the older one, until they spotted your quick pace over.

“Ah so you but be the new padawan.” The clone came into better view now. Wrinkles adorned his face and clearly he was much older than the others. He sighed was filled with relief as you stoped in front of him. “Would you like to sit down Y/N.”

“You know my name?” You asked taking the seat, the older clone seemed to relax slightly and leaned back against the wall along with his mop.

“Oh yes believe me I’ve heard much about you from the dominos.” He spoke with a slight laugh, his gravelly voice continued. “I’m 99.”

The old clone stuck a hand out which you hurriedly excepted with a smile.

“From what I hear you seem to be quite skilled with your training. I’m hoping you can teach those boys a few things.”

You laughed, it seemed like a grandpa talking about his rambunctious grandchildren with pride.

“They’re coming along-“ you started. “-gradually so.” This earned a laugh from 99.

The mess halls doors seemed to open wildly as younger groups of clones filtered in and many of the others off to other training.

The force felt lighter now with the rambunctious cadets and you could only smile. By the door a small group seemed to scan quickly before theirs eyes step on 99.

“Oh ho ho here they come.” Your attention turned back to the older clone with a smile on his face.

A group of 4 young looking clones bounded over. They couldn’t be much younger than you though from what you learned from your time on this planet was that that wasn’t the case.

They stoped wearily a few steps from the table, one with longer hair than what your use to seeing stepped foward slightly. “Made a new friend 99?” He asked cautiously.

“Boys this is Y/N, Master Ti’s padawan.” He gestured towards you.

One of the clones towards the back pushed foward, he seemed to be larger than the others but only had a goofy smile on his face.

“Woah your a Jedi?” He asked like a small child amazed.

You laughed before nodding slightly looking back towards 99. He pointed to each boy. “The one towards the front his Hunter, that’s Wrecker.” He pointed to the cadet right in front of you. “That’s Tech and Crosshair.”

One clone was lost in his datapad and the other seemed like he was trying to kill you with a glare. This group was an odd one before.

Lunch went better than most days. The cadets along with 99 seemed like perfect company for once during your meals. Many of the other clones were awkward or didn’t even talk.

At least a few of members of this squad seemed to enjoy it. One silver haired boy did not but hopefully that friendship will come with time.

You didn’t even notice the buzzing of your com link until the torgruta looked over the table.

“Ah so my padawan did take my instructions.” Master Ti’s airy words flew through the other conversations in the mess.

“Making some new friends dear?”

Your cheeks burned red as you stood to greet the master with a bow. “Umm yes Master, I guess I missed the start of training?” You looked up at her expectantly.

To say her face didn’t completely melt was an understatement, you had the Jedi wrapped around your finger. At least she new Colt felt the same.

“That’s quite all right my young padawan, why don’t you come find me after you and your friends conclude your meal.”

Without thinking you quickly shot forward and hugged the waist of the torgruta before saying. “I will, thank you master.”

“Of course my dear.” She spoke and then watched you return to your seat with an excited force signature around you. “Of course.”

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97 @pb-jellybeans @floffytofu @verybadatwriting @solstraalaa @ray-rook @ct-0113

#star wars #star wars clone wars #the clone boys #the clone wars #clone wars #my writing #toska-writes #clone boys #star wars x platonic!reader #shaak ti #mama Shaak ti #commander colt #kamino #clone 99 #clone force 99

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little-diable · 6 months

Text

There's just something about you – Professor!Austin Butler (smut)

Well well well, ofc I {as somebody who has a massive prof!crush} had to give in and write this. I think this has potential for a part 2, so please tell me how you feel about that. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader works as Professor Butler's teaching assistant. The two are about to take a trip with his class when she gets sick. While staying with him for the weekend the two finally give in to the pull keeping them chained together.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x TA relationship, quite fluffy

Pairing: prof!Austin Butler x fem!TA!reader (3k words)

picture credit to the original owner

“Alright, listen up!“ Professor Butler’s voice echoed through the room. His words were followed by instant silence, forcing all eyes towards the handsome professor. She stood close to him, not enough to feel his body heat clashing against her, though just enough to hyperfocus on the scent of his expensive cologne – a scent she’d always pick up on, no matter where she was at.

“As you all know, we’re leaving for our trip next week. (Y/n) was kind enough to take over the bookings, but we need you to find one or two people to share a room with. Please send (y/n) an email til Monday, so we can avoid any confusion when we check in. If you have any further questions about the trip or concerns, feel free to reach out to one of us.”

She had joined the faculty as Professor Butler’s PhD candidate and teaching assistant a while ago, slowly having to adjust to being around a man like him. At first, (y/n) had struggled to focus, fighting against the urge to stare at him at any given chance, but slowly she had gotten more and more relaxed around him, actually getting to enjoy her interactions with the young professor.

“Please don’t forget your homework, alright? I’ll see you all next week.” The room was filled with loud noises as he ended the class, forcing the students to their feet and out into the hallway. (Y/n) busied herself with his notes, rechecking them before she allowed her gaze to find his bright eyes. “You did good today, (y/n), if you feel comfortable enough you can gladly do next week’s class on your own.”

“I don’t think I feel ready to do this without you yet.” His big hand found her shoulder, leaving her torn between focusing on the feeling of his thumb softly stroking the fabric of her blouse, and the intense eye contact he now held with her. For a second, neither of them spoke, leaving (y/n) to wonder what he was thinking about.

“Alright, but you’re by far better than me at catching their attention, I hope one day you’ll realise that.” Professor Butler’s raspy chuckle had an addicting effect to it, leaving her to avert her gaze as he took a step away from her. “Chinese takeout while we grade the essays?”

……

She woke with a pained whine as her hand reached for her phone, trying to read the time. It was Saturday morning, two days before they’d go on their short trip, but her body was clearly fighting against all plans, making her suffer from a sore throat and a blocked nose. Curses wanted to claw through her, cursing fate for pushing her into her misery.

(Y/n) had been looking forward to the trip for a while, excited about spending some more time with Professor Butler outside of his office and the room he was teaching in. Secretly she had hoped for some more calmer moments where they could go back to sharing information about one another that had nothing to do with their research or their university work. Hopes that were now evaporating into nothing but cold air.

For a moment, (y/n) pondered over her choices, but her fingers had already started to move before her mind could protest, opening the email app. With a few quick words she sent her professor a small warning, telling him that she was sick and would most likely not be able to join on Monday. She felt pathetic for the wave of hurt and exhaustion flushing through her, leaving her trembling body to search the warmth of her bed.

It didn’t take long for her phone to go off, forcing her glassy eyes to read his reply. Simple words told her to give him a call with his added number to the email. Perhaps it was the fault of her cold, perhaps it was the fault of her hazy thoughts, whatever it was, it stopped (y/n) from overthinking, clicking on the number before her anxiety could get the best of her.

“Morning, (y/n).” His raspy voice shot shudders down her spine, momentarily letting her eyes flutter close. She repeated the greeting while internally cringing at the raspy sound of her voice. “Oh sweetheart, you sound horrible.”

Heat rose to her face at the pet name, having to forcefully stop herself from gasping. She could only let go of a hum, not trusting herself to speak coherent words he could easily pick up on.

“Are you still living alone?” A while ago (y/n) had told him about her struggles to find a roommate, unsure who to pick as she had high priorities she didn’t want to let go of. Once again she hummed, wondering where he was taking this conversation. “Alright, I want you to pack a bag. I’ll pick you up in a few, you’re spending the weekend with me, I can’t go on that trip without you. We’ll get you back to your healthy self in no time.”

“Professor,” she sat up as she tried to protest, having to drown out the sinful thoughts instantly flushing through her mind. “I don’t want to take up any of your space, and you could also get sick. I’ll be alright here, don’t worry.”

“No, you’re staying with me. I won’t accept any protests, (y/n). What’s your address?”

It hadn’t taken long for them to end the call, for her to take a quick shower and to pack a bag. Her heart kept racing in her chest, urging her to move, to be smart about the things she packed. She barely got any time to overthink as he had arrived at her place rather quickly, but now as she was sitting on his couch, wrapped in a blanket, (y/n)’s thoughts finally caught up with her.

Austin – as he had asked her to call him – was all too gentle with her, tending to her every need with worry tugging on his features. (Y/n) could only guess that she looked as horrible as she felt, tired eyes barely managing to stay open, and yet she didn’t want to miss a thing, cherishing the chance to be so close to him.

“How about we watch a movie before I make some soup, huh?” Austin plopped down next to her, tugging on her legs to place them in his lap. (Y/n) allowed herself to study him for a few seconds, his blonde hair had that slightly unruly touch to it, blue eyes focusing on his TV. He wore a simple white shirt that perfectly stuck to his muscles, paired with blue jeans that gave him a different touch to the version of him who always wore suits in class.

“Sure, I’m good with whatever.” He shot her a quick smile that left her trembling, having to calm her racing heart with her grasp on the blanket growing stronger. She barely managed to pay the opening sequence of the movie any attention, getting lost in her thoughts as his thumb stroked the soft skin of her ankle, holding onto her as if he was scared she could slip right through his fingers.

For the first time in years, she felt an unfamiliar kind of safety wrapping itself around her, clinging to her like a second skin made to protect her, to cherish her, to perhaps even love her.

……

Quiet steps carried her towards the big kitchen, engulfed in darkness as (y/n) started the kettle, hoping that another cup of tea could finally lull her to sleep. She was too deep in thought to notice his approaching figure, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed in front of his naked chest.

“You alright, sweetheart?” (Y/n) jumped at the sound of his raspy voice, pressing her hand to her chest as she turned towards him. A laugh clawed through Austin, guiding him closer to her with slow steps. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.”

(Y/n) had to turn from him, trying to focus on the almost boiling water as he came to a halt behind her, reaching for another cup. His naked upper body was pressed against her back, one of his arms found its way around her waist to keep her close to him. Goosebumps covered her limbs, silently whispering to her, guiding her hand to find his.

No words were spoken between the two as she poured the hot water into the big cups while Austin reached for the teabags. He loosened his hold on her as if he was begging her to turn around, to get lost in the bright eyes that reminded her of warm summer mornings spent at the beach, getting lost in daydreams that felt more real than memories of things she had lived through. Her body urged her to move, to lean against the counter with her eyes finding his features, wandering over his handsome face.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, (y/n)?” She didn’t trust her voice, knowing that she’d most likely make a fool of herself, but the two hands finding her waist, keeping her caged between his tall frame and the counter, encouraged her to part her lips. (Y/n)’s eyes focused on his neck, on the golden necklace he wore, dangling from his neck like a pendulum about to give her a glimpse into her future.

“I,” a shaky exhale left (y/n), trusting her mind and heart to guide her. “I keep thinking about how comfortable I feel here. Thank you for letting me stay with you, Austin.”

She expected him to shoot her his signature smile, to pull away from her to reach for his cup. But he kept close to her, hand slowly moving up to her face, cupping her cold cheek. He forced her to look up at him, making her breath hitch in her chest as she watched his gaze flicker between her eyes and her lips.

“I tried to stay away from you, but you’re not making it easy for me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) got no chance to reply, silenced by the feeling of his lips finding hers. Ever since she had joined his team, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, wondering how his lips would feel pressed against hers, how he’d hold onto her as they got lost in their kiss. But this was so very different to all these daydreams, more intense, more exciting even. With his hands finding the back of her thighs, he helped her onto the counter, allowing himself to stand between her thighs as they kept kissing.

“Now you’re definitely getting sick for sure,” (y/n) mumbled the words against his lips as they parted to catch their breaths. Austin’s raspy laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright eyes burning her skin as if she was caught in a wildfire, about to burn to the ground.

“For you I’ll gladly take on the struggles of being sick.” His words left her heart roaring, lips finding his once again. Their tongues met in a teeth clashing kiss, wordlessly managing to communicate their longing, the desperate need they had fought against these past months. “I need you to be honest with me, do you want this? I don’t want to pressure you, sweetheart.”

“Take me to bed, professor.” (Y/n)’s smirk grew wider as his pupils dilated, picking her up without another warning. She had her legs wrapped around him, face buried in the crook of his neck. Within seconds they found themselves in Austin’s bedroom, he didn’t give her much time to take in the big room, the pictures gracing the walls, fully focused on him as he pressed her down on the mattress.

Austin kissed his way down her throat as if he was following the trail of a treasure hunt, high on the adrenaline of the search. (Y/n) trembled beneath him while her fingers tugged on the hairs at the nape of his neck before moving down to his muscular shoulders. Somehow it felt as if they had done this numerous times before, knowing exactly how and where to touch one another.

He parted from her to pull her shirt over her head, focus instantly drawn to her naked chest. The way Austin was staring at her made (y/n) feel as if he was marvelling at a masterpiece, a creation of old times the human mind barely managed to understand. Carefully he cupped her breasts, groaning at the feeling of her soft skin pressing against his. They held eye contact as he brought his lips back to her skin, sucking on both nipples before kissing his way down her stomach.

“Austin,” (y/n) choked on his name, begging him to keep on moving, to touch her where she needed him the most.

“Talk to me, sweetheart, what do you want?” His voice grew lower with every spoken syllable, pushing heat down to her core. She felt her walls clench around nothing, begging him to finally fuck her.

“You, all of you. Please, I need you so badly.” Without speaking another word, he ripped her panties from her hips, letting his fingers explore her arousal-covered folds. His name rolled off her tongue, she arched her back at the careful touches, trying to shuffle even closer. Austin could do whatever he wanted to her at that very moment, she was putty in his hands, his to toy with, his to use for his own pleasure. Whatever he wanted, she’d do it, if he kept on touching her like this.

“Will you let me taste you? I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.” (Y/n) could only nod her head, letting go of a breathless gasp the second his rough tongue brushed through her folds. Austin moaned at her taste, he wrapped one arm around her thigh, keeping her pressed to him while the other hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with his fingers. Within the first seconds of him touching her, (y/n) had known that she wouldn’t be able to hold on for long, overstimulated by his touches.

No longer could she spare her hurting throat any attention, no longer did she struggle to breathe on, all she could do was focus on him, on the way he dipped his tongue into her tightness, how he added more speed to his movements, pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

“You taste so sweet, I could stay like that forever, if you’ll let me.” She moaned at his praise, fingernails scratching at his skin to try and hold on. Her legs were trembling from the strength she used to curl her toes, unsure how much longer she could stop herself from giving in to an intense orgasm.

“It’s alright, cum for me, show me how pretty you look when you cum for me.” Austin’s words pushed her into the open arms of her orgasm, calling out his name as he kept circling her clit with a smirk glued to his lips. He watched her every move, every micro-expression he could pick up on, fully mesmerised by the beautiful woman he had wanted to pull closer for months.

“Oh god,” (y/n) panted the words, drawing gleeful chuckles from Austin as he let go of her. Her glassy eyes watched him undress, gaze wandering down his muscular upper body, past his six-pack to his sweatpants. His cock sprang free as he stepped out of his clothes, a sight that pushed heat straight down to her cunt, needing to feel him buried inside of her. “I need you to fuck me now, I can’t wait any longer, Austin.”

“Mhm, such a desperate girl, we should teach you some patience one day.” He reached for a condom, rolled it down his cock and positioned himself between her thighs. With her hand finding the back of his neck, (y/n) pulled him back down for a kiss, distracting herself from the slight pain as he pushed into her, having to adjust to his size. For a second, they held still, clinging to one another to let go of a few deep exhales, fingers interlaced to try and keep themselves grounded.

“Move, please, professor.” Austin let go of a growl at the use of the title, building a comfortable rhythm that allowed one another to get used to the sensation. He was careful with her, not daring to hurt her when she was still sick, not fully able to guide her body. But the blissful expression tugging on her features was enough to calm his racing heart, finding enjoyment in the way she clung to him, how she seemingly felt the same pull he did.

They were a mess of tangled limbs, of moans blurring together, of hearts beating in sync, a match so perfect neither of them wanted to break out of their very own bubble. Their bodies met with every thrust, bringing them closer and closer together, while their eyes found back together.

“My pretty girl, I don’t want to let you go again.” He murmured the words against her lips, luring a soft chuckle out of (y/n).

“Don’t let me go, don’t you dare.” Her head rolled back as his cock nudged her swollen spot, leaving him grinning in success. Austin kept staring down at her, trying to burn every passing second into his mind, praying that he won’t ever forget about this night.

“Touch yourself, make yourself cum on my cock, sweetheart.” With a gasp leaving her, her fingers found her pulsing clit, moving quickly to give her the needed push. He fucked her through her second orgasm, letting go himself as she relaxed beneath him.

Austin clung to her as they both tried to catch their breaths, only parting as they managed to break through the hazy fog wrapping itself around the two lovers. He threw away the condom before he returned to her, cupping her now warm cheek to pull her in for another kiss.

“How about a bath?” She could only nod as he picked her up and carried her into his bathroom, while making the silent promise to cherish her for as long as she’ll let him.

#Austin Butler smut #Austin Butler x reader #professor fic #Austin Butler imagine #professor crush

300 notes · View notes

kawahearts · 20 days

Note

HEYY!!! i was wondering if u could write something about osamu? :o he’s my fav and ur konoha fic was soooo sososososo good!!!

⁝ MIYA OSAMU 𝜗𝜚 english partners 𝜗𝜚

wc ; .8k

this might be the worst day of your life.

first; you slept through your alarm, making you miss the first half of your intro to psych class and, subsequently, a quiz worth 20 points that you desperately needed.

next; you forgot to put money in your lunch account, which meant that, even though it was the only day of the week that the kitchen put cupcakes out, you couldn’t get anything. you were stuck with maybe-expired pizza rolls.

and last but not least; your english professor sprung a last minute group project on you, partnering you with the one person you really didn’t want to be partnered with.

miya osamu.

you don’t hate him, by any means. actually, he’s probably the nicest person you've met at university so far. he’s quiet, but you can always tell he’s listening when you talk to him. he’s handsome in the way he’s, presumably, grown since highschool, but still has that boyish look to him.

and he’s smart. so smart, in fact, that he’s the only person in your entire class that has ever scored higher than you in a test. and he does it every. single. time.

you would hate him if you could. but the small smile on his face as he walks over to you at the end of class prevents you from doing so.

“hi, osamu,” you greet quietly, packing your laptop into your bag carefully. you keep your face neutral, trying to hold back the blush that’s bubbling under your skin.

“hi, y/n.” he bows a bit and you almost feel old. which is a little crazy, because you’re 90% sure he’s the year above you. “we’re partners.”

you giggle and nod, looking back up at him. “it appears we are.” and then you get self conscious. “d- do you not want to be? i can talk to prof. i’m sure he’ll let you switch if-”

“no, no.” he shakes his head, holding his hands out in front of him. he lets out a laugh and scratches the back of his neck. “i’m actually very glad we’re partners. it means i won’t have to do all the work by myself for once.”

you nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you start walking towards the door and he follows— which you didn't really expect, but you’re not complaining.

“what do you think about charlotte brontë for the project?” he asks, looking at you instead of the path in front of him.

the questions almost stops you in your tracks. you turn to look at him, almost flinching when you find his mute, blue eyes staring directly into yours. “i- you know who charlotte brontë is?”

“what?” he gives you a quizzical look. “jane eyre was a requirement for most first years when i was in high school.”

you want to comment that he was just in high school a couple years ago, but you don’t. instead, you roll your eyes. “i know that, genius. everybody reads it. not everyone knows who actually wrote it, though.” you stare for a moment, then shake your head. “sorry. that was a little mean.”

he just smiles at you.

“um, anyway,” you mumble, turning your head away from him. “i think charlotte brontë is a good idea. do you want to…” you trail off. you really do not want to ask this. “exchange numbers? i don’t really pay attention to my email. b- but we can stick to email, if you want. i just think um, phone numbers would… be easier.”

when you look back at him, he almost seems amused. not for the first time, you get the urge to smack him.

“phone number is good.” he nods and shoves his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone just a second later. he unlocks it and hands it to you. “do you want to work in study rooms, or separately? i’m fine with both.”

you hum as you type your number in. you hand it back to him and bite the inside of your cheek. on one hand, working together would be easier. on the other hand… no, there’s no other hand. “study rooms. or coffee shops. i always focus better in coffee shops; i like the smell.” you blink a couple times. “forget i said that. study rooms are fine.”

“okay,” he laughs, nodding. he puts his phone back in his pocket and then stares at you like he’s expecting something.

“so… see ya,” you say, giving him an awkward wave.

“oh. uh, yeah. see ya.” he gives you the same awkward wave and you almost cringe at it.

as you watch him walk away, you’re screaming at yourself internally. you spin on your heel, hook your thumbs under the straps of your backpack, and walk to your dorm with your head down.

this project is going to be the death of you. osamu is going to be the death of you. especially with texts like the one he just sent.

‘coffee shop on 4th tomorrow? i like the smell too’

43 notes · View notes

esggs · 22 days

Text

Capital - Noritoshi Kamo

[wc: 4k+ | noritoshi kamo x reader | college au | fluff-angst-smut | tw: alcohol, weed, smoking, economics, kissing Nobara, swear words, Boys over Flowers, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, unprotected piv | three-part series, part 2 and 3 to be released next week]

Synopsis: You’re the sweet shy nerd who swears Marxist revenge on the heir of the Kamo Conglomerate, Noritoshi Kamo: You’re going to give him the worst heartbreak of his life.

lh7-rt.googleusercontent.com

Part 1: Operation Kamo

Where do you hide away your most rotten petals, sweet lotus? Do you arrange them on your outermost ring, so that they may fall out and away before disdaining eyes? Or do you lock them closest to your heart? Where do you hide your rot, my love?

1 year and 2 week ago

Over the cheap cigarettes and vodka-cranberry juice spilled out of plastic cups, Nobara’s voice carries weakly. “Prof Geto called yn a ‘sweet girl’ today”, she drawled. Nobara is the sort who refuses to admit they’re far drunker than they claim to be. “Everyone calls you ‘sweet girl’, imagine if they saw you like this.”

Nobara’s barely sitting upright, both from the pegs she’s consumed and your hips straddling her lap. Hey Nobara, wanna make-out, but like friends? Nobara Kugisaki, the woman that she is, doesn't back down, so here you two are, lips wet with each other’s liquor. Your other friends, all sitting on the floor in a circle like you two, had just shrugged at your antics. Fushiguro keeps an eye out on the two of you. Maki’s in a chugging contest with Itadori (she’s clearly winning even though Itadori refuses to back down), Inumaki and Panda are switching between watching them and you. Yuuta’s out for more cigarettes.

“She is a ‘sweet girl’, though. People have layers, Nobara.” Itadori, having lost another round to a still very sober Maki, defends you. Your friends, of all people, know that. You have a ritual that once every three months all of you come together to have a casual get-together where you get blackout drunk. And you, the shy, nerdy, underconfident, mild-mannered goody-two-shoes sweet girl, drink the hardest of them all. It could get you kicked off campus and even arrested, but isn’t that the fun of it?

“Yeah, Nobara”, Panda joins the conversation. “yn can top Microeconomic Theory at 2 pm and top you at 2 am. In fact, she can do both at the same time, I bet.”

“I didn’t top Micro, man.” You choke down a moan as Nobara nips your neck, but you have to set the record straight, as much as it hurts you to admit it. “That assface did.”

“Kamo?” Maki asks.

“Yeah, that fucker.”

“Aw, I didn’t know you two still had that little rivalry going.” Maki teases. “What is this, a little fanfic where you turn academic rivals-to-lovers?”

You turn away from Nobara to pout at Maki. “It’s not like that, I genuinely dislike that guy because of the principle of it. There’s layers to my hatred.” You’re slurring a bit, both words and thoughts getting mixed up in your head. “If he wasn’t such a looker I'd have punched his face by now. Like, even the thought of him–” You’re starting to get mad at someone who isn’t even here (is it the cross-fading? It was only a few cigarettes, menthol ones too) “– he’s so smug, so fucking pretentious! Always looking down on me! He’s a part of the bourgeoisie, he’s conservative, he talks over me in class, he literally counters every single point I make in class, what a teacher-ass-kisser, and his hair is so ugly! But he’s so not ugly, he’s almost pretty! I wish I could hurt him, I wish– I wish I could show him the greatest love and then break his heart in the most painful way possible!”

“Isn’t that a bit much?” Itadori laughs. But he understands where you’re coming from. For someone like you, who was born poor and struggled so much to get a good education and finally get into your fancy old-money college, Noritoshi Kamo, the chaebol heir, represented everything unequal with the world. When you’ve been up all-night working at the convenience store just to pay for tuition while he just dashes up swanky-suited to classes in his Rolce Royce with organic coffee, and then has the fucking audacity to top Microeconomics Theory … you want to kill him.

“He deserves it, to be honest. He’s got such an attitude problem.” Maki says. “But he’s a hard shell to crack. If you can actually do what you’ve said, yn, I’ll pay for a barbeque dinner.”

“It’s a bet then.” You’re gonna do it. Drunk and sober, you’re actually gonna do it.

Inumaki bets against you. Panda bets for you. Itadori doesn’t like the whole thing (he bets against you). Fushiguro doesn’t care (he bets for you). The topic’s passed by the time Yuuta returns.

1 year ago

Noritoshi Kamo isn’t having a good day. He lost his notes for Micro Theory, and then his favourite coffee (almond-milk cappuccino with organic Yemeni beans, dusted with dark chocolate!) was made too bitter, and then this traffic jam made him late to class, and now his favourite classmate is absent again. What a shame. You two have such fun discussions in class.

Little does he know that you’re sitting in the corner of the last bench in a dark hoodie looking like you’re a secret agent on a mission. You are. This is all going according to your plan.

A week ago you watched Kamo lend his notes to Todo. Two days later, you asked Todo for “your” notes back (you never lent him any but it’s not like he remembers who he takes his notes from). You then missed two days of classes (when they covered Consumer Behaviour) to set the final act: now.

The bell rings. People are getting up to leave. Kamo is packing his things up. Here goes Operation Kamo: Make-him-fall-in-love-with-you-and-break-his-heart.

“Professor!” You walk to the front of the hall.

“Ah, yes, yn!” Prof Utahime, as always, is happy to see you. “Did you have any doubts about the class?”

“Yes, Prof, I’m struggling with Consumer Behaviour. But I have so many questions, I don’t think even Office Hours could help me.”

Utahime is genuinely perplexed. Consumer Behaviour is one of the most basic concepts, how could a top student like you be confused about that? “Oh, then would you want some extra tutoring? I could connect you with some peer tutors.”

Score. You casually hold your hands behind your back, and in your hands you visibly carry Kamo’s apparently lost notes (the bait).

“That would be perfect, prof.”

“But I don’t mind taking extra Office Hours for you–”

“– No!” You clear your throat. “I mean, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.”

“In that case, for a peer tutor I’d recommend– Oh! Kamo!” Your fish, who had taken the bait and was coming to retrieve his notes from you, looks alarmed. “So lucky you’re right here! yn was just looking for a peer tutor. You help her in Consumer Behaviour, alright?”

“Me, Professor?” “Thanks, Prof!”

But Utahime’s already waved you two off. Kamo is left looking at you (he didn’t even know you were in class) and you need help with Consumer Behaviour of all topics?

“Oh, Mr. Kamo” You fake some shyness. From what you’ve observed of him, you guess that he likes his girls demure and soft, so that’s who you shall be from now. “When should I attend your tutoring sessions?”

“Please don’t call me that.” He says, “And it’s from 8.30 to 10 pm every Thursday.”

“Thank you so much!”

See, people only know u as the shy little bookish nerd. They don’t realise that you’re doing everyone a favour by putting your brains into academics instead of mischief like this, because you’re damned if you’re not winning this bet.

11 months ago

Every Thursday night from the past month, you’ve been diligently studying with Kamo. Even though it started as a peer tutor session, it was too painful for both of you to keep pretending like you do not understand Pareto Efficiency. “It just means that the resource you’re distributing amongst people has been completely distributed, with nothing left over. So you can’t give more to one person without giving less to another.” Kamo would say with a straight face. “You don’t even know that?”

Right now, you’re working on your assignments together in a classroom i.e. you two do your own assignments side-by-side without a word or question. You refuse to discuss your answers with Kamo citing academic plagiarism. Kamo will answer any doubt you face but not without condescension. While he’s not falling in love with you, your homework sure is getting done faster. And you two have now adapted to a mutually silent tolerance instead of barely-hidden hostility.

“I’m tired.” You yawn at the clock: it’s 3.16am . “Let’s finish this tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow we’ll have to get started on the Macroeconomics paper, we need to finish this today, yn.” Kamo’s stern. “Don’t tell me you’re falling behind again.”

“Hardly, asshole. But unlike you, I can’t afford to constantly drink fancy British coffee to keep awake, so please, forgive my poverty.” You’re too fucking tired too keep up this soft baby girl shit. Besides, I can seduce Kamo with just my looks, I don’t need to put in that much effort. He’s a man, after all.

That’s a new side of her. Kamo’s a bit taken aback. Not bad.

“I didn’t mean any offence.” He says carefully.

“As if you could offend me.” You’re not mad, just snappy and really need a break. “I’m gonna take a walk.”

“By yourself?”

“Shocked I don’t have a chauffeur?”

“Stop that.” He says. “You know I can’t let you walk around this late all by yourself.”

He’s really pissing you off now. “So you’re my father now? Don’t think you can order me around like your servants, okay?”

“I wasn’t doing that!” He gets up from his seat. “Fine, you do as you like, but I’ll accompany you.”

In Kamo’s mind, he’s acting like any gentleman should, especially to a delicate girl like you. In yours, he’s being far too overprotective over a stranger. But you swallow down your irritation when you realise the situation: you two, walking under the moonlight.

The mission is back on and you’re locking in.

—

“It’s not British, it’s Yememi.” The path you walk on is cold and quiet. Surprisingly, college students do sleep sometimes. You note that Kamo, hands in the pockets of his stiff slacks, has quite a deep voice. “My coffee. The British do tea.” A bit rough, a little haughty. His voice reminds you of oak trees in harsh winter.

The night air has significantly cooled your temper. “I just said whatever came to my mind. I’m sorry if I was too brash back there.”

Kamo hums. A pause. “It’s better when you are straightforward like that. I spent a semester trying to figure out if you like me or not.” Huh? Isn’t it obvious I dislike him? “I enjoy listening to your points in class.”

“Please,” you retort. “You counter all my points, and only my points.”

“Yes, because it’s a discussion?” Kamo seems genuinely confused. “After all, you make the best points in class.”

The flash of understanding strikes both your heads at the same time.

Kamo – Ah. She’s insecure of her status in the college and saw it as me talking down her opinions.

You – Ah. No one’s ever told this rich prick to shut the fuck up.

And that, folks, was the first olive branch they spread to each other. A common understanding of each other’s rotten sides, even though this was just, at best, overripe. The first shared acknowledgement of each other’s flawed humanity.

You two finish your assignments on time. Kamo has started to nod at you everytime you cross paths on campus. Sometimes he even stops for a little chat.

10 months and 18 days ago

“You’re ethically challenged.” Fushiguro says. You both share the same Statistics class, despite the fact that he’s majoring in Computer Science.

“Shouldn’t we eat the rich? I’m doing a version of that.”

“If you want to manipulate Kamo into sleeping with you just say that.” He disregards your outraged expression. “What is this weird Boys Over Flowers thing you have going on?”

That the resident rich-boy on campus, Noritoshi Kamo, has started to hang out everywhere with poor little nerdy you is the gossip of the college. Only your friends knew your real intentions behind this, that is, all except Yuuta, who would innocently joke about you two falling in love. The kind of jokes that make the whole friend group fall silent.

As you take your seats in the classroom, Fushiguro leans towards you. Kamo’s also in the class, sitting far in front of you two. “What will you do when you start liking him back?”

“Do you think that I’m 12 years old?” You reply back. “It’s not like either of us thinks we’re in a Disney fairytale. It’ll be a weird situationship at best.”

“You’re just saying that because you feel guilty about everything. Why even bother going to these lengths to play nonsense games?”

Damn. That was… upsettingly correct. What can you even reply to that?

Fushiguro just sighs. “Just keep out of trouble. I don’t want to clean your puke from sad-bingeing too much ice-cream again.”

He’s talking about the time when you had a thing with Yuuta. It ended pretty badly, and even though you still remain friends, Fushiguro remembers that heart wrenching pain that you went through post the break-up. He was there for you, even though he brushes it off as not a big deal, and you are forever grateful for that. Fushiguro has always been there for you.

—--

“Yn, Fushiguro.” Kamo shook his hand. “Let’s go with Mai for the fourth team member. I can introduce you to her over lunch.”

“The group presentation is after two whole months, though.” You protest.

“We’ll start early then.” No one made him the captain of this ship, but apparently Kamo just assumes that role.

Was Mai Zenin Megumi Fushiguro’s cousin? Yes. Technically. Had Fushiguro’s deadbeat dad done his utmost to keep him from his side of the family and hence Mai lived in a totally different world to Fushiguro? Also yes.

Because even with his full-ride scholarship and bursary grant, Fushiguro would still never be able to relate to the talk that’s been going on at Kamo’s friends lunch table. “Vacationing at the Pyramids?” “Travelling the world with his mentor Tsukumo?” “Interning at his dad’s multispeciality hospital?” He’s never even heard of Loro Pianna. Neither have you. Even when Kamo's friends aren’t actually trying to be mean, you still feel like outcasts.

You suppose this is the world of the rich. Where you don’t belong. Where they let the majority of the world population starve to death because they fucked up the food supply chains to get more profits. Where they take the private jet from Tokyo to Kyoto and let Bangladesh suffer from global warming. Where all their luxury alligator skin handbags are made by slave children in sweatshops. And they don’t care. They don’t care at all.

I despise them. You grit your teeth. I despise Kamo to the core.

He deserves this. He deserves what I’m doing.

10 months ago

There has been a grave development. Over trying Yemeni coffee (“I can pay for myself.” “Not this, you really can’t.”), giving you a lift to Political Philosophy class on the other side of the campus in his Rolls Royce (“There’s a TV???” “Do you want to watch something?” “Oh my god– There’s a TV in your car??”), to tipping you heavily at the diner you waitress at, you’ve realised you’ve been partaking in Kamo’s wealth.

Especially now that you catch yourself taking notes on Marxism with a Caran D’Ache pen (¥ 65,000) stamped with the crimson lotus of the Kamo Conglomerate. This is just plain wrong on so many levels.

It’s okay to take his money, you reason. He’s got his asshole filled with it. But the money signifies a certain amount of closeness that you two have created. You don’t even accept expensive gifts from Yuuta, the most well-off out of all of you poors, and you two were close. Very close. As for Kamo, he now texts about his archery practice (he has a tournament coming up), he sends you photos of his notes if you miss a class without even being asked, he recommends you Coursera courses that complement your degree. Noritoshi Kamo didn’t even know your first name two months ago.

This is going too far. The mission was to make him trust me, depend on me, not vice versa. I have to speed this up. Now.

“Hey, Kamo.” Your whispered tone is so casual, Kamo almost missed the tacit question behind your words. “Want to revise Macroeconomics in my dorm after class? Fushiguro’s staying over with Itadori, so it’ll be quieter than the library.”

But he doesn’t miss it. He’s also a college student after all, he knows what you’re asking. Or at least what he presumes that you’re asking. This could be an innocent request... No, the way your eyes flicker down to his lips for a second as a little blush heats your ears red, he knows it’s not.

He’s gonna refuse. He doesn’t even look like he’s interested. You don’t know that his heart is thumping in his temples and his palms are sweaty.

He turns to look at you full in the face. In his steady eyes, you see that he trusts you. He trusts that whatever happens, however this ends, it’ll be okay, because he trusts you. Cold leaden terror fills your veins.

“Okay.” Kamo’s smile is soft. You’ve never seen him smile before. “I’ll be there.”

—---

If Kamo is uncomfortable with the state of your untidy dorms, he doesn’t say anything. He takes the glass of cranberry juice you offer him in your best cup, and chats freely about this and that, sitting cross-legged on your bed (you don’t have a couch). Much more freely than he ever did. It’s as if he’s lifted an invisible barrier, letting you step into an inner part of him that he keeps shielded from everyone. Except for you, now.

You’re scared. Whatever fringe of delusion you keep up to convince yourself that you’re still a good person is rapidly vanishing. The full weight of your guilt is settling in heavy. Your hand, wrapped around your juice, starts to shake.

Kamo notices. Of course he does. Ever since you asked him to come to your dorms, and even before that, he’s noticed everything about you. He was very happy to be your friend (he was very happy to have a friend at all, and if it’s someone as smart, beautiful, funny, sweet and amazing as you, that’s all the better), but to hear you say that you wanted something deeper with him, how could he refuse? He’s still pretty new to you, especially in this context, he doesn’t know everything that you like or dislike. So when he notices your hand shaking, he takes the drink off of you and covers your hand with his and presses it softly against his lips. He hopes that this is something you like. You do.

“Are you so nervous?” He asks. “We can do Macroeconomics if you’d rather. I want you to be comfortable.”

This is your chance. Break it off, don’t cross this line, let things go back to how they were. This is just going to hurt the two of you. The two of you.

You set out to hurt him in the most painful way possible. If you let this go any further, you will. Do the right thing, yn. Do the right thing.

“I’m good. Noritoshi–,” you reply. “– I want you.”

You close your eyes. It’s enough. I don’t want to think about anything anymore.

His calloused hand cradling your cheek, his hair falling over your neck. you feel a warm kiss on your forehead. “You don’t have to say anything. I love you. Have for a while. I don’t do this usually, you have to know.” His lips scrape the shell of your ear. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You keep your eyes stubbornly closed to everything. “I don’t, Toshi–” He smiles at the pet name you’ve picked. “–love you too. Have for a while, too.”

His chapped lips melt hungrily into yours. He doesn’t hesitate to throw himself fully onto you, pushing your back onto the bed as he climbs over you, his hand behind your head. Hot, heavy, wet– he smells of oak and cedar. With hints of dark chocolate. You can taste the desperation on his tongue.

He moans out loud as you run a tongue down his neck, prepping to leave him littered with your bites. Does he notice when you unbutton his pressed shirt? When his heavy leather belt snaps unbuckled? Or is he only focused on you pulling your shirt off, eyes glued to your beautiful breasts and the softness of your belly?

He pulls the cups of your bra down with a finger to lick over your cleavage, nipping at your tits, boldly grabbing the fat of your ass. He’s far too gone to use his head, and you’re making a conscious decision not to.

“Like this?” Kamo draws a trail of kisses down to your sex.

“Yeah.”

“Show me how you like it done. I want to please you.” You nearly choke at his words.

Nodding, you pull his hands into your panties when you’re suddenly struck with …shyness? He just laughs and lands a kiss straight onto the wet patch through your underwear. Damn. Where did this Casanova come from?

“I do it like this.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he studies you, despite a painfully hard cock, as you dip a finger into your slick hole and rub circles on your clit with it. You softly pinch a nipple with the other hand. Your cries are sinful as you add another finger into your cunt.

“My turn.” Kamo looks straight at you as he licks your juices off your finger (you almost faint). “Tap if it's too much.”

It is too fucking much. You don’t know where he learnt to push the clitoral hood back as he breathes cold onto it, to lubricate it with spit as he licked circles onto it, to push two curled fingers into your cunt at once, to use his whole wrist to thrust around as he felt for your g-spot, to bite your thighs that hot. But you’re not left in a state to complain as he tells you to “Cum.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you giggle. “I’ve never done it like this.”

“It’s my mission then.”

You throw your head back and close your eyes.

You do, surprisingly, cum on his tongue. “You’re so gorgeous.” From his angle, all he can see are your boobs bouncing as you grind up onto his tongue, trying to chase the aftershocks of the orgasm. Your face is flushed, with a tear building on your lashes that Kamo wipes off. His tongue is warm when he pushes it into your mouth.

“Are you a virgin?” He asks. “Do you want me to..?”

“I’m not, Toshi, it’s okay. Are you?”

He grins. “No, I had a girlfriend.” You laugh at that– “Me too.”

“I’m really hard, love.” He pulls your hand to touch him through his boxers. Oh my god. He really has everything in life, doesn’t he? He’s packed like he’s going to war. “Do you want to? If you want to wait, I’ll understand.”

“No, no, I don’t want to wait a second more. Toshi, I want you so bad.” He almost came in his boxers hearing you beg like that.

Kamo knew that he was on the larger end, as far as dicks go. Girls, especially sweet ones like you, baulked at it, and he fully expected you to do that too.

He didn’t know that you would spit into your hands and wrap them around him in what felt criminal. The way you twist your wrists. The kitten-licks to the tip. The warmth of your tongue on his balls. “Stop, yn, love.” Red-faced, bite-marked, messy-haired: he looks delicious. “I can’t– I really can’t!”

Kamo’s made a decision in his head: he manhandles you onto your back and pins you down with the weight of his whole body. Face-to-face. Finally.

He kisses you through the initial burn of penetration, letting you bite your pain onto his lips. So full. So stretched. So fucking heavenly. A little thought floats into your head that he’s not using any protection and neither are you, but when he looks like that, brows curled in bliss as he bottoms out inside you, nothing matters anymore. Only he does. Only Noritoshi Kamo.

You thrust against him, as if to wake him up. “Move, baby.”

He’s gentle, at first, at least. With you in his arms, he’s losing any sense he has rapidly. He ruts against you through his strained breaths and choked groans, leaving hickies on your neck, the curve of his thick cock grinding against that particular spot of yours. Oak, cedar and dark chocolate.

Neither of you last very long. Your second orgasm tips him into his: your face writhing in throes of pleasure (that he gave you) and the way your cunt clenched hard onto him… he can't resist spilling his hot cum inside you.

Exhausted, he just collapses onto you. His cum leaks around his cock, which is still inside you, and is dripping down the curve of your ass. It takes a moment for him to steady his voice: “I love you, yn. Other people, I can’t trust them because I’m a Kamo, and I don’t know how to make friends easily either. But it feels so easy with you, yn. You feel so true.”

bonus: Kamo helps you tidy up your room. Both Itadori and Fushiguro are shocked to see your floor without any clothes lying around.

college majors of jjk characters are here

a/n: reposted cuz i deleted my og post by accident (╥﹏╥)

tagging: @maskedpacific

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