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writermask-0807 · 2 years ago

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Forbidden Fruit - Teacher Gakuho Asano x Student Reader

A/n: ik, ik. It ain't Valentine's day or even close to it, but when I recently rewatched assassination classroom, I saw the valentine's episode, so here I am. Also, I have two reasons which have been the cause of this super late update. It's cus a) I was originally working on something else before I accidentally lost it FOREVER {u have no idea how much I cried} and b) I'm currently admitted in hospital cus I'm positive for dengue, sooo (it's hell here istg) 🥲🥲🥲 and then I was like, eh, why not write 4 dis fine man?? He underrated. Anyways, enjoy this crappy, super long, useless detailed oneshot thingy I wrote!! Oh and, if you can't tell, it's my first time writing a kiss, so bear with me!

Warnings: teacher x student trope, cus I'm a suckered 4 it, kissing, ooc Gakuho.

THE soft, nervous pattering of your hesitant footfalls graze the sterile marble of the floor reached your ears as a deafening screech of unnecessary noise, incessantly obnoxious in their abundance, and making you release a pained wince against your will as you stilled.

However, you reminded yourself that there was no-one around to criticize you about this violation of 'rules' (that nobody gave a damn about, but felt the need to bother you about it) of the otherwise perfectly prim, proper school etiquette. But you found yourself wishing that that had been the case, as you would have taken irksome school-boys over the threat of being possibly expelled that you were about to both willingly, and unwillingly risk.

The sharp noise of your brisk strides screeching to an abrupt halt bounced off of the bleak walls that surrounded you from both sides, pounding against your eardrums so harshly that you could quite literally feel it reverbrate through your skull, and pulse through your crystallized blood, joining in a cacophonous symphony of your drumming heart and fluttering pulse, a brutal roar of chaos that shattered the fragile, accursed silence that enveloped you in its fickle embrace.

The emptiness of your surroundings and the frigid atmosphere devoid of the usual hum of life and the buzz of busy, cheerful chatter of your fellow students served only to worsen your spreading anxiety, and your heart crept up into your tightening throat, your mind barreled with an army of questions and doubts that you could not suppress. With no distractions to save yourself from the relentless streams of worry trickling into your mind, you quickened your pace again, carefully adjusting the object cradled in the palm of your right hand as you folded your arms behind your back, so that you could hide it from view.

You rounded a corner with much more force than necessary, almost toppling over in your reckless haste, and you found yourself growing more nervous with the bleeding second as you neared your destination, a breath of anxiety rippling through your consciousness and settling firmly within your ribs, dread surging through your veins like a vengeful snake, distorted, disembodied voices screaming in your head for you to turn back and leave before it was too late, making you wonder for the umpteenth time that day whether or not you were taking the right decision, despite knowing the severe consequences it would inevitably lead to.

However, before you had the chance of coming back to your senses, and wisely listening to your intuition to make a break for it, you had reached your desired destination.

The large, oaken door of the Chairman's office loomed above your petite form threateningly, a thick, carved door standing just as bold and intimidating as the man within it, and you swallowed thickly, quickly contemplating whether or not to enter and carry out your mission.

After all, gifting your teacher with a rose for Valentine's day was truly as stupid as it sounded, and in person, nonetheless.

Said flower prickled in your hand, fleshy petals velvety and moon-stone smooth against your blanching flesh, rich scarlet so dark that it almost bled into darkness at the edges of the unfurling petals, gilded with the vivid color of freshly spilled blood so painfully, beautifully real that you almost felt the smear of it against your delicate flesh, the luxurious color of a thousand spring blossoms all blooming at once, coating the rich satin of its delicate petals in a luminous sheen of thick vermilion, as the rose sat innocently in the cusp of your unfurled palm, petals so soft that it simply melted into your skin.

Beautiful, yes, but dangerous. The metallic lustre of its bleeding wine simply called out to those who laid their eyes upon it, as it dared and taunted and mocked them to reach out and to touch it, to take and take and take until there was nothing left, something vaguely akin to a guilty pleasure, secretive and irresistible. The sweet, ambrosial fragrance of the rose wafted in the air, clouding the atmosphere with its heavenly aroma, and it stifled your senses, choking you, the smell so sickeningly sweet that it felt bitter on your lips, sour as it burned on the tip of your tongue, and clamped your throat with the sweetening scent of bitterness and rot. Danger poured from every blood drenched pore of its existence, oozing an allure that even you could not resist, and you just had to purchase it.

When you'd first laid eyes upon the plum-hued rose, it'd sat patiently within a glass casing, almost as though it were a precious gem, a vibrant, enriched ruby that needed to be treasured, rich with that scarlet poison so delectable that you could almost taste it on your tongue, tropical and bittersweet, painted with a bloody red that was an ardent splatter of explosive color against the dull background of the canvas, eternal and dying simultaneously in its infinite beauty, and you'd been immediately reminded of the one you'd sold your heart to, your teacher, Gakuho Asano.

Charming and alluring, a beauty so elusive that it slipped through your fingers as delicately as silk, a forbidden fruit that you knew you could not acquire but still could not help but yearn for, a pining so desperate that it hurt, almost like gauging the insides of a festering wound that had remained untreated, and caked with drying blood that seared a brand into your flesh with a sweltering, white-hot intensity.

It was a forbidden love, a longing for him that resonated within the depths of your very soul and drenched into the pores of your existence, and the rose had depicted it so perfectly that you almost didn't believe it. But love came with that agonizing pain you were somehow willing to bear, and so did the rose.

Your skin prickled underneath the delicate touch of its somewhat stiff stem, and you were reminded of the painstakingly long time you had spent plucking the thorns out. Thorns had embedded themselves into your skin, burying themselves underneath your flesh, burrowing so deep that rivulets of blood had poured out, but in the end, you'd managed to take them all out so that he wouldn't be pricked by them.

Oh, right. I'm here for something.

At the mention of your teacher in your inner monologue, you had snapped back back your senses, and the awareness of what you were about to do slammed into you like a white-hot rod, making knots form in the pit of your stomach, anxiety twisting them with painful twinges of unease.

Tearing your eyes away from the rose, you drew in a great, shuddering breath, feeling your lungs rattle with the force of the sigh, like bones withering underneath fragile porcelain of supple flesh, and your legs wavered beneath your weight, as though the bones that supported them could no longer hold. Finally drawing enough courage, you lifted a hand to knock on the door, when -

"Come in."

A sensually smooth voice sounded from the beyond the stiff, cherry-oak of the door, warm with a false cheeriness (that somehow no-one else was able to detect), raw with power and authority, a rich baritone laden with silks and velvet, creamy like dark chocolate and freshly brewed coffee - bittersweet, with the deep hitch of delicacy as each word passed his lips gracefully, a soothing lull of music blessing your ears, and that familiar, throbbing ache returned to your pounding heart.

Despite the sudden burst of heat that flooded your cheeks scarlet, you were unnerved by the fact that he seemed to be aware of your presence, in spite the door appearing to be closed. You swallowed thickly, and knowing you had no choice but to oblige to the underlying demand (order?), you obeyed. The smooth metal was cool underneath your nimble fingertips as you twisted it, and you felt a chill seep into your veins, slowly coagulating your blood with ice crystals. You'd always felt this way, whenever you'd entered this room, heart plummeting into the pit of your stomach, a sense of foreboding pitting itself in your stomach, shudders trickling down your rigid spine in great abundance.

Holding the rose behind your back once again, you stepped inside - and was almost immediately greeted by a gust of glacial wind, licking your bare, exposed flesh, rising goose-flesh on your peach-hued skin, and you swallowed once again.

Seated behind the mahogany desk, with his elbow propped up against the smooth wood, and palm resting against his sharp chin, was your would-to-be-Valentine.

Your breath hitched in your throat at the sight of him, a regal king sitting upon his throne of blood and bones.

Taut, smooth marble stretched upon arching cheekbones that cut deep into porcelain flesh, (which gave him an air of elegance that no-one else seemed to possess), was framed by the rich locks of his mop of copper hair, and hooded eyelids revealed lustrous amethyst optics, thriving with a galaxy of dying stars, cosmic-tinted, and sifting with a luminescent cosmos so painfully beautiful that it hurt to look at. His eyes glinted underneath the warm, dim glow of the rays of the dying sun burning red beyond the panes of glass behind him, gleaming with unveiled cunning and curiosity, his lips curled into that mocking, tight (but undeniably, terribly false leer of a) smile that you loved.

"Yes?"

Honey dripped from cold lips, a venom so sickly sweet that you could taste it, rich and thick and bitter on your tongue, ribbons of dark velvet rewarding your eardrums in a gentle caress of satin.

You faltered.

{You always did.}

Your legs threatened to buckle underneath your weight, and it suddenly felt foreign to stand unsteadily on your feet that wavered and felt like they would succumb to the sudden upsurge of fear and anxiety any time.

Your skin crawled underneath the fierce intensity of his cold, questioning stare, and you felt as though shards of ice and broken glass shifted underneath your blanching flesh, poking and prodding against your innards and threatening to shatter the fragile porcelain of your skin when they would break out, and the weight of his sharp, icy orbs against your skin was unbearably heavy.

Gakuho did not speak, but his urge for you to talk was evident in the thickening air, and for a split second, his presence had somehow grown more… sinister, his smile dropping off of his flawless, sculpted face. The ominous silence clouded the atmosphere with a terrible tension, and it strangled you with its gaunt, invisible fingers, stifling you to the point where you couldn't breathe, your heart lodged tightly within your throat, chest contricting underneath the pressure building within your core, and the weight of the rose on your tightening palm, concealed behind your petite frame, never felt much more heavier, burdening you further.

"I - …" You began, but found yourself unable to continue, the words wilting on your tongue, and your fumbling voice withering at the back of your throat, your mouth suddenly dry.

"Yes, Miss L/N?" He prodded gingerly, coaxing, crooning for you to spill your secret, and the deceptively gentle, calm smile had returned to his curled lips, the corners of his eyes crinkling with the forced falsity of it, almost as though it had never waned in the first place.

The metaphorical thread of sanity that held yourself intact underneath all the pressure snapped.

Reddened cheeks dancing with flames, you thrusted the rose onto the impossibly smooth, glossy surface of the mahogany desk, and clambered onto your trembling feet for your very grand, impressive escape.

In the split second before you'd turned your back to the older man, you witnessed the minute widening of his plum hues, the momentary surprise crossing his sharp features contrasting dramatically against the alabaster of his flesh and strands of rich ember, and a small crevice of your mind that was not distracted by the nerves and adrenaline gnawing at you was satisfied by his reaction, and you couldn't help the faint smile that lurked in the corners of your mouth, thinking you'd won.

Then, before you could even fully comprehend what had happened, you found yourself in alarmingly close proximity with your Valentine, to the point where you could feel the unexpected, surprising (you'd always thought he'd feel abnormally cold) warmth of his flesh mingle with yours through the fabric of your uniform, his grasp on your forearm firm and steady, though not enough to bruise or hurt you, the delicate weight of his warm breath licking the outer shell of your ear, soft lips grazing the supple flesh of your earlobe, the brushes of his ember-colored hair tickling your cheek.

You froze, the soles of your feet rooted to the hard marble beneath, eyes widening in shock, a fierce blush burning your face with a sweltering burst of flooding heat, and your aching heart hammered so hard against your ribcage that you feared he'd heard it, threatening to break the bones, the pulsating organ threatening to tear itself out of its domain, and your breath caught in your throat, a soft gasp rattling in your chest.

The intensely powerful, exotic aroma of his perfume hung thick in the shared air between the both of you, caressing your nostrils with a spicy and tropical fragrance that you couldn't quite recognize, but it was quite pleasing nonetheles. However, it only succeeded in making you even more nervous, flustered by the distance, or lack thereof between you and your dashing Valentine.

"S-sensei, w-wha - " You managed to stutter, but the spark of something igniting within his violet orbs silenced you, and you were left to the mercy of your fluttering pulse thundering in your ears, heart hammering against your heaving chest, breathing growing erratic and rapid, as your teacher's free hand slowly, almost gingerly came to stroke the curves and contours of your youthful face, flawless marble questing fragile flesh for the very first time, brushing fleetingly against the rise of your cheekbones, edging so very, dangerously close to your parted lips.

You couldn't help but shudder underneath his cool touch, relishing the feel of his skin against yours, and you couldn't help yourself as you leaned into the inviting embrace of his palm as it gently cupped your cheek, thumb ghosting over the delicate skin, because, once again, it was an allure you couldn't resist.

Slender, long digits came to rest at the seam of glossy, plump flesh that was your lips, and you forgot how to breathe, and the roar of your thundering heart faded from existence, accompanied by the din of everything else that had deafened you before.

In those stolen moments of precious intimacy, smoldering, galactic orbs clashed against your lustrous e/c hues, a kaleidoscope of vivid colors melding together as your burning gazes collided, and Gakuho flashed you a mischievous smile before he leaned in, and kissed you.

Honeyed lips dripped nectar as his mouth molded against yours in a perfect synchrony, ripe with the taste of rich, thick wine, that left you feeling dazed, intoxicated in a sense, his soft lips guiding yours with a maturity you'd yet to experience, mellow, silken lips entwining with your own in a tender, chaste caress of velvet and satin. A broad palm came to rest at your rigid spine, drawing sensous circles that comforted and coaxed you to enjoy and feel and cherish, almost as though he knew it was your first kiss, and you knew he'd succeeded, because the complicated whirl of emotion surging through your veins - albeit abstract, was not entirely unpleasant, and left your heart soaring.

For a few treasured moments, time itself stood still, granting you a final mercy as the grains of years and seconds bled away, and the seconds slowly deccelerated, the rest of the world melting away. The harsh reality where he was your teacher and you his student ceased to exist, and it was just the two of you.

But just as quick as it came, Gakuho pulled away, leaving you dumbfounded and breathless, stars burning underneath your eyelids, and heart bursting with a kaleidoscope of emotions, each of which were at their most vulnerable and rawest of points.

As you stood processing what had just happened in a dazed, thoughtless reverie, your fingers unconsciously wandered to the ample swell of your lips, where the ghosting taste of his lips still lingered, and it was only then that you noticed the warm amusement flickering within his lavender orbs, and the teasing smile that curved his lips.

The awareness of what had just transpired rammed into you with the wrecking force of a freight train, and you shrieked, flailing your arms around madly, face flushed with the blooming color of a thousand roses. Quickly regaining your bearings and whatever amount of sanity and dignity you had left, (if you even possessed any), you dashed towards the door, very nearly stumbling over your steps and almost crashing head-first into the harsh, bleached marble below, your face burning and brain malfunctioning at disbelief of what'd just happened. The indignant voice in your head hollered that it wasn't like you didn't enjoy it, but it'd caught you completely off guard, as you hadn't expected him to reciprocate your feelings, or take such a bold step.

You could feel his stare burning the nape of your neck and you swallowed thickly, not yet ready to face that smug grin and flickering amethyst hues. As you twisted the knob (which suddenly felt very hot underneath your touch), the rich baritone of his voice drifted through the air and reached your ears, making you halt in your steps.

" Oh, and Y/N?"

"Y-yes?" You let out a nervous stammer, slowly turning on your heel to meet his amused gaze. Gakuho had returned to his seat, and managed to look even more majestic underneath the dying light of the sun, his copper hair burning a fierce red as the beams of light bathed the rich tufts of umber in swaths of honey-gold and peaches and orange, the flawless, unblemished alabaster of his flesh appearing smooth and marble to curious touch, his star-strewn, cosmic-lidded eyes gleaming with a warm glow, the plum-hued rose held in his hand accentuating his sharp features.

"I hope you cherish my gift to you as much as I treasure yours." He said as his eyes met yours, hints of mischief and playfulness flaring in them, and his lips molded in a lazy, foxy smirk. If you already hadn't felt flustered enough, you were sure that now steam was practically pouring out of your ears, blood rushing to your face in great abundance, so much so that you felt ready to explode.

You managed a feeble smile in return, and threw the door open before flying out of view. However, you couldn't deny the thrill you felt after realizing that Gakuho returned your feelings, and a silly, large grin unfurled on your lips at the heart-warming reminder.

Perhaps the forbidden fruit did taste the best, after all.

{BONUS}

Gakuho would never tell you that he had been aware of presence of the yellow-hued, tentacled creature called Koro-sensei pressed against the glass of his office, and neither would he tell you that he allowed that nosy, perverted matchmaker to spread rumors that he'd kissed you. In fact, his sly smirk broadened, he was counting on it.

#gakuho asano x reader #reader x gakuho asano #teacher x student trope #assassination classroom #valentine's event #kissing #idk how to tag this shi #fluff #cliche with capital letters

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