#tw.power dynamics

[woahjo]

the first time the high lord katsuki touches you, he drags his fingers lightly over your clothes. his palms slide against your shoulders, your waist, your hips, and your thighs. he's careful to not overstep, moving slowly over your body as if any sudden movement would shatter the illusion.

he'd asked you to come look at something on his desk. a book or some other thing, and you'd obliged because you appreciate the things he shares with you. but you had stood so close to him, so close that katsuki could smell you, that he could lean forward a little and put his face in your hair.

"tell me if you don't like it," he'd mumbled, his voice tense and gravelly. there was a bite to it, a nervous one that he'd struggled to conceal.

then, he'd moved his hands to touch your hips. lightly at first, then with a bit more urgency. you had not turned around to face him, instead content to let him touch you this way. almost like worship.

his hands now roam gingerly over your clothing, catching momentarily on the heavy fabric before letting it fall again. he spends a lot of time simply feeling your shape, greedy hands that tremble with his desire to take you. katsuki touches you because you let him, because you want him to.

katsuki doesn't fuck you today, but he does other things. he lets his hand slip to your inner thigh and you part your legs with a small step to the side. neither of you speaks a word and the room is so silent save for your breathing that you could hear a pin drop. kirishima is outside of the door, but he won't enter unless he's called. the silence and secret of this wraps you both in a film you can't seem to break free from.

slowly, he pulls your dress up to run his fingers along the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps along your skin and causing you to shutter and lean back against him. he sighs a little, leaning forward so that his breath hits the shell of your ear. then, he places a small kiss on your exposed part of your shoulder where it meets your neck.

then, his fingers dip to cup your cunt, pressing lightly until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and lean forward, bracing yourself with both hands on the table. his thick finger rubs circles into your slit, pulling aside your underwear to collect your wetness on his fingers before pressing it again to that sensitive bud.

you sigh, letting your head fall forward and katsuki steps closer to you, close enough that you can feel his hardness against your ass. he groans when he realizes the extent of your wetness, no doubt thinking about how long you've been like this, how long he's let you go unsatisfied and neglected.

katsuki doesn't make an effort to enter you, nor does he move his fingers from your clit. he just rubs circles into it, finding a pattern that makes you tremble and sticking with it. you sigh softly as he touches you, your skirt hiked up over his wrist and legs spread ever so slightly to give him room to pleasure you. choked moans and whines threaten to escape your lips and you can feel katsuki's face and breath beside your head, his eyes fixed on you as he watches your expression twist into one of mounting pleasure.

his hand comes up to brace your hip when you get close, pulling your body against him so that his hard cock is flush against you. it's a possessive movement and the roughest he's ever been with you, harshly jostling your body against his as if to have you close when you reach your peak.

you're leaning forward, fingers digging into the fine wood of his desk, as he repeatedly rubs at your clit, occasionally dipping to your entrance to collect your slick. you'd love for him to put them in you, to curl his thick fingers inside of your body until you cum, but this seems to be all he allows himself to do, as if he's holding himself back from ultimate pleasure.

what he does do for you is certainly enough, though. soon, he's crowding your body, his figure hunched over yours as you twitch and writhe against him. he keeps his fingers firmly rubbing at your clit, soft circles that grow more intentional with each twitch of your hips against him. then, you tense up and sigh deeply, then tension in your body fleeing as you cum hard against his hand and rut your hips into his fingers.

katsuki watches and groans softly as you finish, still moving his fingers and breathing heavily in your ear until you collapse forward against the desk with overstimulation. your legs tremble and squeeze his hand between your thighs and your breath comes heavily and quickly. he breathes like this too, as if he's just exerted some great physical force, and you can still feel his cock twitching against you in his pants as the fingers on his free hand dig harshly into your hips.

katsuki doesn't move his hand until you've stopped your twitching, content to leg you squeeze it between two plush thighs. then, he removes it, briefly holding your skirt up and peering around you to see the supple flesh of your leg, before letting it drop. you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and katsuki lingers behind you for a moment before letting his head fall forward to rest against your shoulder.

neither of you says anything about the reality of what you've just done. it's a great crime. one that is not easily undone should anyone find out about it. the two of you sit in silence as it settles over you.

[ryukatters]

Ok so imagine:

Gojo is pretty emotionally disconnected from most, refuses to let himself get attached most of the time after everything thats happened to him.

And then you show up

He doesn’t want to slip up. He doesnt want to form another bond like that. But its like he can’t stop it. Maybe you just remind him of what he’s lost, maybe it’s the way you see him as him rather than “the strongest,” an annoyance, or something shallow. It happens slow, so slow he barely even picks it up, but the feelings bloom. You just enrapture him. And he remembers everything that happened last time he got so close to another person, and he’s terrified to accept it but terrified to turn it away and loose the last chance he might have at a relationship like that.

so he takes it, tries to claim you in every sense of the word. You’re weaker than him, possibly even an underling, so there’s definitely a power dynamic that makes it easier for him to keep control. Maybe he tries to keep you hidden, but maybe he likes to drag you around like a dog, only loaning you off to somebody else when it gets too dangerous. Either way, it’s not like you can run because he’d definitely find you. He is absolutely NOT going to lose something so important to him, not again. He’d do whatever it takes, even if it meant making himself look like the bad guy in your eyes because you understand him so well, so he’s sure he can turn your relationship back to the positive side with just a little explanation and coercion

(idk if this may be a bit ooc but… its been rotting in my brain ty for letting me dump it here)

trigger warnings/content: yandere, stalking, power dynamics, obsession, Gojo is a few years older than reader, no smut, just word vomit

It starts off small. You’re a budding sorcerer, a few years Gojo’s junior, and also a new teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, trying to adjust to your new job. Gojo takes it upon himself to mentor you. You don’t think anything of it, other than the fact that it’s a little intimidating to have the strongest sorcerer of the era to serve as your guide.

You’re strong, he can see. You’re hardened by a few rough years of working in the field, but even despite barely meeting you, your facade cracks and he can see the goodness underneath.

Gojo’s impenetrable most days. To a lot of people, he might be a loud, annoying nuisance, but to you, you see a broken man who tries to keep everyone at arm’s length at the expense of his pride and reputation as a formidable sorcerer.

Gojo’s extremely intelligent, and uses it to play his cards wisely. It took him years to build a persona that’ll prevent outsiders from ever looking in. You manage to unravel him day by day, and it almost frustrates him.

Almost.

Until he realizes there’s no point in fighting the inevitable— he’ll have to let you in eventually.

There’s a fear in Gojo’s eyes when he sees you. It’s like all tomorrows appear in a blink. Your entire essence, so good, so innocent about the cruelty of the world. It reminds him of innocence he once had in his youth. Something about you is so magnetizing, and no matter how much Gojo wants to fight it, he can’t help but be pulled in.

He wants you. And he wants you to want him. Need him. Desire him carnally in the way he does you.

Slowly, he lets you see parts of him that no one else has ever seen. His love is so overwhelming, and because it’s Satoru— with his sweet words and seemingly good intentions— he manages to have you fall for him too. And when he finally, officially has you (because let’s face it, he decided you were his long before that point), he manages to keep you under lock and key.

For your safety, he reasons.

After all— is he really the strongest if he doesn’t do what he can to keep you safe?

The rose colored glasses seem to wear off over time, and you start to see Gojo for the monster he really is.

It takes a few months of garnering courage to even attempt to begin planning your escape from him. You do it slowly, but carefully, calculating every step to make sure you don’t leave a trail behind.

You get one of the auxiliary managers to buy you a back up phone, set up a whole new bank account overseas, and eventually *secretly* book a ticket to a whole different country— one far from the grasp of Satoru Gojo.

Fate, by some miracle, seems to be on your side. Yaga calls both of you in for an emergency meeting. Gojo is being sent away on a week long mission abroad to snuff out a new curse user group that has connections to one here in Japan. You— a local mission to check out disappearances in a nearby town.

You can feel the hostility radiating from the man standing next to you. You dare to take a peek, and you see nothing but an airy smile. “Yaga, I’ll take care of their mission. It should be quick for me—“

“No, Satoru. They haven’t been on a mission in months, thanks to you being greedy and taking on everything. Being a good mentor means letting them take calculated risks.”

With that, both of you sign off on paperwork and begin to prepare for your respective missions. The atmosphere is tense in Gojo’s home— the same one he made you move into just a few months prior (“So you don’t have to worry about commuting so far. ‘Sides, there’s a lot of creeps lurking around out there, and I’m not talking about curses.”)

Gojo refuses to leave you until he makes sure that you’ll be safe. Borderline threatens Ijichi to keep a close eye on you, and the poor man is nothing short of pissing his pants.

He pulls you aside before Ijichi starts preparing the veil. One hand rests on your waist, squeezing almost a little bit too tightly, like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go, while the other tilts your chin up so you can meet his gaze.

He has his blindfold on, but you know all of his attention is on you. “I know you won’t have service inside the veil, but the second it gets lifted you’re going to call me.”

You nod, and listen like the good girl he likes you to be. With that, he gives you a kiss on the forehead before he leaves.

You manage to locate the missing victims and exorcise the curse in less than 48 hours. You do as you’re told and call Gojo. He picks up after the first ring, and you think you can hear a shuddered sigh of relief on the other line upon hearing your voice. He tells you he has to go, only because duty calls, and that he’ll talk to you soon. Be good. Update him. Don’t leave without permission.

As usual, you appease him.

You make it back home in record time, tell Ijichi to wait outside because you need him to take you somewhere.

You leave your phone behind— the one that Gojo has the location of— and shut the door with nothing but a small suitcase in tow.

Ijichi stammers, you want to go where? Alone? Does Gojo know about this?

You tell him there’s no time for questions and to start driving.

He drops you off at Narita, in the international terminal. He’s visibly sweating, no doubt fearing for both his life and yours once a certain white haired sorcerer gets back from his mission. You give him an easy smile and thank him, and he speeds off, probably to go into hiding as well.

Your hands are shaky as you hand the boarding pass to the flight crew, and the tremors don’t stop even as you take a seat inside the plane. Even when you arrive at your destination, lay down in your bed in what’s going to be your temporary home for who knows how long, does your anxiety fail to cease.

Gojo knows something is off. He’s blown up your phone with endless calls and texts, called Ijichi countless times, and even asked Yaga about your whereabouts. Nothing. Your radio silence confirms his intuition. He finishes up his mission quickly, before the one week allotment is up. The first thing he does when he steps foot in Japan is immediately teleport back home.

He’s met with silence, and hardly any trace of your cursed energy residuals to be seen. You’ve been gone for a few days, he deduces.

Anxiety starts to prickle the back of his neck, he doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever felt this much concern for anyone. Are you hurt? He tries calling you again, until he hears it. The slight buzzing sound emanating from your shared bedroom.

He picks up the device and sees the log of notifications. You really were gone.

Satoru looks through your phone— messages, emails, camera roll, bank statements— anything, anything to give him a hint as to what you were up to. Nothing. That’s okay, onto the next plan, which is honestly what he should’ve done first.

Being the strongest sorcerer had its perks, but none of them were greater than his privilege to investigate into people’s background history.

You know deep down there really was no escape from Satoru Gojo. That no matter the distance, he’d find a way back to you.

So when you see Gojo sitting on your bed in your hotel room, a part of you isn’t that surprised. The rest of you is paralyzed with anxiety of what comes next. You want to run, but you can’t. Your eyes begin to shift towards the still open door, trying to assess your options, but you’re hardly given a chance to finish your thought before Gojo is in front of you, closing the door. Effectively shut away from the outside world.

He’s not wearing his blindfold, you noticed. Which means he’s probably been tracking the flow of your cursed energy the moment you stepped foot into the lobby.

His stormy gaze meets yours, and he smiles. Your stomach drops.

“So…” he starts, voice sinfully low, “thought you could get away, hm?” He’s backed you up against the door, his strong frame pressed against yours.

Words bubble up your throat but die as they reach the tip of your tongue. You don’t want to set him off. You’ve only been given small glimpses into Gojo’s more sadistic, domineering side, which he does on purpose to serve as warning. You’re not like anyone else, so I’ll be good to you. In return, you must be good for me.

You start to tremble, legs beginning to fail you— but Satoru’s there to hold you steady. He uses one hand to grip your face, squishing both of your cheeks until your lips are pursed. He watches with deep adoration and fascination at how pliant the flesh is between his fingers. It’s like you were made for him.

“I’m willing to forget that you did this,” he hums, placing a quick peck to the tip of your nose before he presses his forehead against yours. “If you promise to get in that bed with me until I’ve decided you’re forgiven.”

Work belongs to @ryukatters. Please do not repost, recommend, or translate my writing on TikTok or Twitter.

[woahjo]

mmmm high lord katsuki and new attendant reader…

he’s a cold man, with an icy stare and a fiery temper that is set off at the drop of a hat. the high lord katsuki has a reputation for being harsh on his peers and servants alike, though he has enough political sense to keep the peace.

he’s from an important family, born and bred with a silver spoon in his mouth and taught all of the niceties of good society. katsuki has read all of the classics and, in addition to an impressive family home (which he manages along with familial business), he has an extensive library, which he visits frequently.

you are low-born, only granted to opportunity of reading because your father taught you before he passed away. you’d been forced to find work when he passed and, by some stroke of luck, someone in the kitchens was willing to take you in and have you keep inventory for a small monthly salary. reading and writing comes in handy for that.

you consider yourself unlucky, however, at being noticed by katsuki’s first officer and personal attendant, kirishima, who happens to be of common birth with a position that should belong to a noble and thus, outranks you. well, just about everyone our ranks you. it’s him who recommends you for the “promotion” and lands you in katsuki’s personal office in the main house.

“my lord,” he says, stepping into the room with the comfort only a noble could have. “i’ve brought them.”

“who?” katsuki doesn’t raise his head. his voice is low and gravelly.

“the new serving staff, my lord,” he states. “the one from the kitchen inventory.”

katsuki looks up at this, his gaze unimpressed and unyielding. he looks you over for a moment, staring as if to size you up.

oh, he’s beautiful. it’s shameful thing to think of such a harsh man, but it’s the truth. he almost looks like a painting, with hard set eyes and round lips. you’d expected someone frightening, with harsh features and sharp, cutting proportions befitting of a man with rumors like the ones surrounding him. instead, the man who sits before you seems a prince with a slightly colder gaze. you suppose that his beauty is drowned out by the other rumors surrounding him.

“you said they could read?” katsuki snaps.

“yes, my lord,” he responds.

katsuki doesn’t comment on this, instead, he shifts his gaze to you and harshly barks a question.

“you’re willing to work?”

what does that matter? you don’t have much of a choice.

“yes, my lord.”

“very good,” katsuki says. “kirishima, see her to her quarters.”

kirishima excuses himself and you bow deeply and do the same. katsuki’s gaze lingers on you for a moment as you bow. it is so intense that you can almost feel the moment he tears it from you and returns to pouring over the papers in front of him. he does not look up again as you shut the door.

katsuki gives the impression that he is made of stone, stubborn and immovable. you imagine that his peers have trouble convincing him of anything and you briefly wonder, judging by the hard look he’d given you, if you’ll run into the same trouble.

[woahjo]

anyway i think katsuki gets jealous upon seeing the way your friendship with his guard and personal attendant kirishima unfolds. you're incredibly easy-going around him, in a way that you're not around katsuki. he begins to notice the little glances exchanged between the two of you, or worse, the way you chat idly and joke with each other when you do your errands together.

it makes sense that you'd be more comfortable around him. kirishima, despite his position of prestige as a soldier and close attendant, could be considered a peer of yours. kirishima is not a lord like katsuki is, but rather, of common birth. he could marry you, if he wanted, something katsuki could never be allowed to do. he grimaces at the thought of having to approve your marriage certificate.

it's not that you're uncomfortable around katsuki, but rather that you seem to tread with a caution that you don't have with kirishima. katsuki wants you that way too. he wants you unbridled and unafraid, to see the real side of you, to touch you in the casual way kirishima seems to, though maybe not exactly like that. his desires are more selfish, carnal. it's inappropriate. it's a greed katsuki is not permitted to have and because what he feels is forbidden, he's threatened by the idea that with kirishima and you, it's not.

of course, what he doesn't know is that there's no real tension with kirishima. there's no real reason for you to be on guard or cautious or nervous with him because, unlike katsuki, you don't leave kirishima's company with damp underwear and an itch you can't seem to scratch.

[woahjo]

after months of quietly serving the high lord katsuki his meals, exchanging only the bare minimum of words with him and tiptoeing n around his legendary temper, you are invited to sit with him while he eats.

he’s alone in his office and has cleared his work papers to make room for the tray of delicately prepared food you carry. food that you have never even dreamt of tasting. katsuki watched as you carefully walk and set the tray in front of him, addressing him properly and briefly explaining the meal. he stares as if waiting for you to mess up, for a slip of the tongue or a stutter. instead, as you turn to go, he clears his throat and quietly, almost gently, asks you to stay.

“would you care to stay for a moment?”

the sentence shocks you. not just because of his gentle tone, but because in the few months you’ve worked here, he has not so much as uttered a word to you beyond what is necessary.

“my lord? is there something else you need?” you ask, fighting to keep your thoughts from your face.

katsuki shakes his head. “i only asked if you cared to sit for a while.”

you don’t know if you’re allowed to turn him down, better to oblige his request. you take a seat on a chair partway through the room, down the back of your thighs and lowering your head. truth be told, you’re exhausted and it feels good to get off your feet, though you feel tense at being alone in a room with someone so far above your rank.

katsuki doesn’t say much as he eats, lifting the food to his mouth with closed eyes and an unreadable expression. you’re anxious to know why he’s kept you here. the silence is almost deafening and the smell of his meal makes your mouth water.

as the silence drags on, you are almost tempted to ask him why he’s asked you to stay. in fact, it’s on the tip of your tongue when katsuki next speaks.

“where did you learn to read?” he asks, his voice even and firm, though a bit rushed.

the question surprises you and you instinctly look up at him in confusion before meeting his crimson gaze and lower them again.

“my father taught me before he passed, my lord.”

“when you were young?”

“yes, my lord,” you reply, your nerves evident in your voice. “he taught me from when i was a child.”

katsuki nods his head as you raise your gaze. he’s looking at you with a slightly tilted head.

“what have you read?”

“whatever i could get my hands on. not many books were available to us.”

you pause as you realize your wording may have been rude. if katsuki notices he doesn’t say anything. in fact, he seems to relax into himself.

“and you enjoy it?”

“enjoy what, my lord?” you ask.

katsuki rolls his eyes and huffs.

“reading.”

“oh!” you feel best rush to your face, “yes, very much.”

katsuki nods his head again and let’s the room fall into an awkward silence. you get the sense that he’d like to say more to you. what’s holding him back? you have no idea. you serve at his pleasure, he should have no reason to worry what a servant thinks of him.

still, you’re surprised at the gentleness of this conversation, even with his impatience. there’s an awkward air even to him and, in some perverse way, his uneasiness makes your own feel somehow milder.

“will you be needing anything else, my lord?” you question quietly.

katsuki startles for a moment, as if he’d forgotten that your job is to serve him, and shakes his head. you think, for a moment, that you see the tips of his ears flush pink, but you don’t feel comfortable looking at him long enough to find out.

“no, that will be all.”

you almost get the impression that he is trying to be delicate with his wording as you stand from the chair and bow.

“then i’ll take my leave,” you say softly, making your way to the door.

katsuki watches you as you do, his meal seemingly forgotten in front of him. you peer through the door as you shut it just in time to see him run a hand over his face and rub lightly at his temples. the expression he wears is not one you’d expect from a man with a reputation such as his.

[woahjo]

spending time in the high lords office is an almost daily occurence now. you never ask to stay, but he always invites you to. you feel obligated to accept, but you're finding that it's little more than an excuse. katsuki is surprisingly pleasant to be around.

as you spend time with him, you come to realize that it's not what he says that's harsh, but his tone. every day it seems more and more likely to you that he's not quite the man people have made him out to be. in fact, he's awkward and somewhat sensitive with an intellectual side and an odd manner of side-stepping points he doesn't want to make. of course, he has a temper, but he's not unreasonable. never unreasonable.

you get the impression that he drags his time with you on longer than it needs to be and, to your surprise, you're grateful for it. there's a quiet sort of tranquility that comes with sitting in his office. it's become a rather peaceful place for you.

soon, you're having conversations instead of just reading books, talking idly about the grounds or the books you'd read or your life before coming to work here. katsuki listens most of the time, usually with a cheek resting on his palm in a way that is somehow unbefitting of a man of his station. sometimes though, he'll tell you about his troubles. bills and servants and things so far beyond your reach that they almost seem to be a far off fantasy.

katsuki looks at you often too. it's not unintentional and you've noticed that when you read (or pretend to), he'll steal glances through his lashes as he goes about his paperwork. for a time, he'd dart his eyes away when you noticed but, in recent weeks, he's been unflinching when you do. his gaze bores into you unabashedly, almost as if he's trying to swallow you with his eyes.

he's doing it today, meeting your eyes and playing this game of chicken. there's something hungry behind it, something you recognize as belonging to katsuki alone and it's so distracting that you've been spending your time staring at the cover of the book you hold rather than opening it. it's the sort of look you give someone when they've gotten under your skin, for better or worse. you shudder and cross one leg over the other, feeling a rush of heat and desire flood your lower belly.

"how are you today, my lord?" you ask, breaking the long silence and raising your eyes to look at him. you're more comfortable now. he's made you that way.

katsuki's eyebrows twitch and he leans back in his chair.

"and what would you know of the troubles of lords?" he teases.

"all that you've told me," you respond, a smile creeping onto your lips. "or nothing. whichever you prefer."

katsuki let's out a short huff of laughter, his shoulders rising briefly.

"what do you want to know?"

"you seem particularly distracted from your work, my lord."

"i don't get distracted," he responds evenly, lightly fingering the page in front of him.

"and i don't spend my time in here with you. since we're both done lying, you might as well just answer me."

"it's a great crime to accuse me of lying," he states.

you hum and nod your head, knowing better than to believe his teasing threats. they used to scare you. those comments would have been enough to make you tremble only a season ago. he'd gotten upset with you for it once before, placing his fingers to his temple and groaning as if the idea of being perceived so harshly by you frustrated him. though, looking back, he seemed less upset with you than he did with himself.

"marriage," he says, his tone a little more crass and unsettled.

"marriage?"

the idea comes as a shock to you, though you know it shouldn't. of course katsuki would get married. he's already well past marrying age and many of the other lords born in years near to his have married and had children. still, you can't hide the look of surprise on your face which katsuki answers with a distinctly apologetic look. what does he owe you to be looking at you that way?

"a lady?"

"yes," he breathes and leans back in his chair. "a noble. beautiful, wealthy, and someone i've never once met before."

you nod your head solemnly as katsuki stares at the papers in front of him with a scowl on his face.

"and you don't want to marry her?"

"why would i want that?" he responds, raising his voice a bit. "my mother arranged it for the purpose of strengthening the house position. bullshit."

you raise your eyebrows at the swear word, though you've learned that katsuki's vocabulary can be harsher than his tone.

"so you never plan to marry then?"

katsuki raises his eyes to look at you upon hearing this. his brows are pulled together in the center and he looks distinctly angry. well, angry to someone who doesn't know him better. katsuki looks sad.

"not her," he says evenly and you flinch at the intensity of his gaze. he looks away from you at this, dismissing the tension with a lighter tone. "someone else, maybe."

"a different noble...?"

you're not sure why you ask, but you do and you regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth, but katsuki doesn't give you an answer. he simply groans and rubs at his temples with his pointer finger and thumb.

"talk to me about something else," he demands. "your family."

"i've already told you everything there is to know about them," you say a bit urgently, startled by the fierceness in his tone.

"the book in your hand, then."

the conversation feels like it begins to spiral, moving faster and faster.

"i haven't opened it yet."

"your dress."

"this old thing? it's the standard uniform."

"anything about you!"

"there's nothing to know about me!"

"well, i want to know everything about you, damn it! how you wake up in the morning or how you'd like your tea. what you think about during the day. all of it!" he says insistently, his chest rising with an indignation characteristic of having said something you don't intend.

you don't know what to say and katsuki's cheeks turn pink through his scowl before he let's out a frustrated huff of air.

"i'm sorry."

you shake your head. he doesn't need to be. there's a brazen question on the tip of your tongue. it burns with how cautiously it creeps up your throat, too big to swallow.

"who is it that you want to marry?" you ask.

katsuki looks up and you and then away with a huff. he scowls to himself, standing from the chair and turning to face the window behind him. you can see his side profile from here, the way his eyebrows force a crease between them and the downturn of his lips. it's a regretful expression. you should have held your tongue. you dread the answer.

"i'll see you tomorrow," he says, softer this time.

"are you dismissing me for the day?"

"do whatever you'd like with your day," he states. "i can't keep you."

what an odd choice of words. you don't dislike it. not because it's true, which you find more an more unfortunate with each passing moment, but because it insinuates that he might like to. you'd be kept, you think. if you could. if it were him. since when has be become so special to you?

you make your way towards the door, setting the book down on his desk and moving to the door opposite from him. you turn as you reach it, bowing deeply and letting his honorific roll off of your tongue. my lord. then, he turns to face you as you rise, stepping back up to his desk and sitting down.

"tomorrow," he says, facing his paperwork. "come back tomorrow."

"as you wish, my lord."

[woahjo]

professor nanami keeps his eye on you all through class, flirting with the sweet, pink haired boy next to you. he watches you tap his fingers with a pen to tease him, watches the way you tilt your head and smile as he goes on about the last game or other. itadori is nice enough. the sort of boy you'd bring home to your parents and, despite being a part of a particular crowd, he seems to take dating very seriously. that doesn't mean that nanami hates watching you flirt through his entire lecture.

his feelings aren't appropriate. nanami knows that. he knows that he could jeopardize your education were he to act on them, but it's one thing to swallow down attraction and another entirely to try and swallow down jealousy. so nanami keeps his eye on you, holding back your last exam paper. you missed a few questions and may need to go over them with him. that's all it is.

[woahjo]

the next time you are summoned to katsuki's office without warning, he is standing by the corner of his desk rather than sitting. his hands are tucked behind his back and kirishima, a man you've developed a tentative friendship with, smiles briefly at you before leaving the room. he's the friendly sort and easy to talk to. you appreciate his company on the long walk between the servant quarters and katsuki's office. he eases your nerves.

you stand awkwardly in front of the door and bow when you are left alone, unsure of what to do with yourself. did you commit some sort of horrible faux pas when he'd invited you to sit with him? did you perhaps get too comfortable in your previous meetings? you've done it a few times now, each as painstakingly awkward to begin with as the last, though recently, the tension has somewhat eased. you have to admit that the more bashful side of katsuki (for whatever reason) is growing on you. it's almost comfortable. almost.

"you called for me, my lord?"

"yes," he nods, not moving from where he stands.

you linger, waiting for an order or a punishment or to be made aware of some crime you may have committed, but it never comes.

"i brought you some books from the library," he says, stepping to the side and gesturing to a small stack of books on the desk. "i don't know if they'll suit your tastes."

"for me?"

"who else?"

you step towards them, staring at the gorgeous leather binding around the four books on the desk. you are thrilled, of course. these books are beautiful. even the leatherwork could be considered art. you don't think you've ever touched such glorious craftsmanship.

"are you sure, my lord?" you say, coming back to your senses a bit. "the estate's library is off limits to commoners without special permission."

"am i sure?" he huffs under his breath, inhaling and motioning again to the novels. "consider this your special permission."

you step towards them and katsuki moves to the side, watching as you reach out and run a finger along the spine.

"it would be rude to turn them down, you know?"

you feel heat rush to your face and look at him. you're surprised to find the ghost of a smile on his face. is he... abusing his power to get you to... read with him?

"thank you, my lord," you say, unable to hide the grin that creeps up on your face.

he nods.

"read them here," he states, moving around the desk and sitting down.

"here?"

katsuki only looks up from his desk at this, raising an eyebrow as if to tell you that he's not going to justify that with an answer. of course here.

you nod, taking the first book from the pile with a small smile. you run your finger down the spine as you walk to the same chair you'd sit in when he invites you to sit with him while he eats and gingerly slip your finger into the front binding to open the book. you know he's watching you, but for some reason, your nerves are slipping away. in fact, you're excited, happy even.

katsuki doesn't say anything to you for a long while. he works and you read and the atmosphere slowly goes from tense, to awkward, to comfortable. katsuki, for how strict he can be, is surprisingly comfortable for you to sit with after having done it so often and he's seemingly careful to not overstep.

still, you catch him glancing at you every now and then. they're fleeting looks, almost as if they're unintentional, and when your eyes meet, neither of you says anything as you both return to the work you're doing. would it be too presumptuous of you to say that maybe he seems a little fond of you? you certainly feel it in this gesture.

after months of quietly serving the high lord katsuki his meals, exchanging only the bare minimum of words with him and tiptoeing n around his legendary temper, you are invited to sit with him while he eats.

he’s alone in his office and has cleared his work papers to make room for the tray of delicately prepared food you carry. food that you have never even dreamt of tasting. katsuki watched as you carefully walk and set the tray in front of him, addressing him properly and briefly explaining the meal. he stares as if waiting for you to mess up, for a slip of the tongue or a stutter. instead, as you turn to go, he clears his throat and quietly, almost gently, asks you to stay.

“would you care to stay for a moment?”

the sentence shocks you. not just because of his gentle tone, but because in the few months you’ve worked here, he has not so much as uttered a word to you beyond what is necessary.

“my lord? is there something else you need?” you ask, fighting to keep your thoughts from your face.

katsuki shakes his head. “i only asked if you cared to sit for a while.”

you don’t know if you’re allowed to turn him down, better to oblige his request. you take a seat on a chair partway through the room, down the back of your thighs and lowering your head. truth be told, you’re exhausted and it feels good to get off your feet, though you feel tense at being alone in a room with someone so far above your rank.

katsuki doesn’t say much as he eats, lifting the food to his mouth with closed eyes and an unreadable expression. you’re anxious to know why he’s kept you here. the silence is almost deafening and the smell of his meal makes your mouth water.

as the silence drags on, you are almost tempted to ask him why he’s asked you to stay. in fact, it’s on the tip of your tongue when katsuki next speaks.

“where did you learn to read?” he asks, his voice even and firm, though a bit rushed.

the question surprises you and you instinctly look up at him in confusion before meeting his crimson gaze and lower them again.

“my father taught me before he passed, my lord.”

“when you were young?”

“yes, my lord,” you reply, your nerves evident in your voice. “he taught me from when i was a child.”

katsuki nods his head as you raise your gaze. he’s looking at you with a slightly tilted head.

“what have you read?”

“whatever i could get my hands on. not many books were available to us.”

you pause as you realize your wording may have been rude. if katsuki notices he doesn’t say anything. in fact, he seems to relax into himself.

“and you enjoy it?”

“enjoy what, my lord?” you ask.

katsuki rolls his eyes and huffs.

“reading.”

“oh!” you feel best rush to your face, “yes, very much.”

katsuki nods his head again and let’s the room fall into an awkward silence. you get the sense that he’d like to say more to you. what’s holding him back? you have no idea. you serve at his pleasure, he should have no reason to worry what a servant thinks of him.

still, you’re surprised at the gentleness of this conversation, even with his impatience. there’s an awkward air even to him and, in some perverse way, his uneasiness makes your own feel somehow milder.

“will you be needing anything else, my lord?” you question quietly.

katsuki startles for a moment, as if he’d forgotten that your job is to serve him, and shakes his head. you think, for a moment, that you see the tips of his ears flush pink, but you don’t feel comfortable looking at him long enough to find out.

“no, that will be all.”

you almost get the impression that he is trying to be delicate with his wording as you stand from the chair and bow.

“then i’ll take my leave,” you say softly, making your way to the door.

katsuki watches you as you do, his meal seemingly forgotten in front of him. you peer through the door as you shut it just in time to see him run a hand over his face and rub lightly at his temples. the expression he wears is not one you’d expect from a man with a reputation such as his.

[woahjo]

and then you both play coy about it for weeks. neither of you says anything about what happened. you tip toe around it. but both you and katsuki can't forget it. it plagues you, comes over you when you least expect it.

it's almost like a dream, something not quite real that didn't really happen. you look him in the eyes and can only think about the way his hand felt between your legs and the way his cock pressed against your ass, and katsuki can only think about the quiet sound of your voice and the smell of your wetness on his fingers after.

you play coy and it drives katsuki crazy, but neither of you say anything and nothing (on the outside) seems to change.

the first time the high lord katsuki touches you, he drags his fingers lightly over your clothes. his palms slide against your shoulders, your waist, your hips, and your thighs. he's careful to not overstep, moving slowly over your body as if any sudden movement would shatter the illusion.

he'd asked you to come look at something on his desk. a book or some other thing, and you'd obliged because you appreciate the things he shares with you. but you had stood so close to him, so close that katsuki could smell you, that he could lean forward a little and put his face in your hair.

"tell me if you don't like it," he'd mumbled, his voice tense and gravelly. there was a bite to it, a nervous one that he'd struggled to conceal.

then, he'd moved his hands to touch your hips. lightly at first, then with a bit more urgency. you had not turned around to face him, instead content to let him touch you this way. almost like worship.

his hands now roam gingerly over your clothing, catching momentarily on the heavy fabric before letting it fall again. he spends a lot of time simply feeling your shape, greedy hands that tremble with his desire to take you. katsuki touches you because you let him, because you want him to.

katsuki doesn't fuck you today, but he does other things. he lets his hand slip to your inner thigh and you part your legs with a small step to the side. neither of you speaks a word and the room is so silent save for your breathing that you could hear a pin drop. kirishima is outside of the door, but he won't enter unless he's called. the silence and secret of this wraps you both in a film you can't seem to break free from.

slowly, he pulls your dress up to run his fingers along the inside of your thigh, raising goosebumps along your skin and causing you to shutter and lean back against him. he sighs a little, leaning forward so that his breath hits the shell of your ear. then, he places a small kiss on your exposed part of your shoulder where it meets your neck.

then, his fingers dip to cup your cunt, pressing lightly until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and lean forward, bracing yourself with both hands on the table. his thick finger rubs circles into your slit, pulling aside your underwear to collect your wetness on his fingers before pressing it again to that sensitive bud.

you sigh, letting your head fall forward and katsuki steps closer to you, close enough that you can feel his hardness against your ass. he groans when he realizes the extent of your wetness, no doubt thinking about how long you've been like this, how long he's let you go unsatisfied and neglected.

katsuki doesn't make an effort to enter you, nor does he move his fingers from your clit. he just rubs circles into it, finding a pattern that makes you tremble and sticking with it. you sigh softly as he touches you, your skirt hiked up over his wrist and legs spread ever so slightly to give him room to pleasure you. choked moans and whines threaten to escape your lips and you can feel katsuki's face and breath beside your head, his eyes fixed on you as he watches your expression twist into one of mounting pleasure.

his hand comes up to brace your hip when you get close, pulling your body against him so that his hard cock is flush against you. it's a possessive movement and the roughest he's ever been with you, harshly jostling your body against his as if to have you close when you reach your peak.

you're leaning forward, fingers digging into the fine wood of his desk, as he repeatedly rubs at your clit, occasionally dipping to your entrance to collect your slick. you'd love for him to put them in you, to curl his thick fingers inside of your body until you cum, but this seems to be all he allows himself to do, as if he's holding himself back from ultimate pleasure.

what he does do for you is certainly enough, though. soon, he's crowding your body, his figure hunched over yours as you twitch and writhe against him. he keeps his fingers firmly rubbing at your clit, soft circles that grow more intentional with each twitch of your hips against him. then, you tense up and sigh deeply, then tension in your body fleeing as you cum hard against his hand and rut your hips into his fingers.

katsuki watches and groans softly as you finish, still moving his fingers and breathing heavily in your ear until you collapse forward against the desk with overstimulation. your legs tremble and squeeze his hand between your thighs and your breath comes heavily and quickly. he breathes like this too, as if he's just exerted some great physical force, and you can still feel his cock twitching against you in his pants as the fingers on his free hand dig harshly into your hips.

katsuki doesn't move his hand until you've stopped your twitching, content to leg you squeeze it between two plush thighs. then, he removes it, briefly holding your skirt up and peering around you to see the supple flesh of your leg, before letting it drop. you exhale a breath you hadn't realized you were holding and katsuki lingers behind you for a moment before letting his head fall forward to rest against your shoulder.

neither of you says anything about the reality of what you've just done. it's a great crime. one that is not easily undone should anyone find out about it. the two of you sit in silence as it settles over you.