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kinktober ⋆౨ৎ entry #1 ; cockwarming w toji fushiguro .ᐟ

dear diary ♡,

a couple days ago, mister toji taught me how to 'cockwarm.' it's where i simply sit on his . . . cock, and warm him up -- he says. i was so nervous ! he is so big , and i thought it was going to hurt tons ! it burned a little , but felt so much better after settling a little. mister toji was touching me so softly all over, calling me sweet things, and even played with my tail! i'm so embarrassed -- i must've been blushing so much! i think i may ask him to do it again today , i hope he doesn't get angry . . . i love mister toji so so sooooooo much ! ♡

“c—can we do it when you’re done?”

“what?”

he can tell by the way you’re fidgeting and your ears are twitching— you need something. you pinch at the skin of your thigh, nervous with little courage as you ask.

“the— the thing you taught me. last week. the warming one?” you quip, tugging on toji’s shirt as he finishes up cleaning the dishes in the sink.

“oh.. y’want my fat dick in y’r lil bunny pussy is what ‘m hearing, is that right ?” he emphasizes on dick. he’s so blunt, and it makes you want to crawl and hide. he turns to you with a checkered apron hanging onto his neck, hand leaning against the sink. his smug smile spreads across his face, seeming to enjoy the way you grow flustered.

you whine at his choice of words, thighs rubbing against eachother with need. he acts as if he doesn’t see you writhing besides him, your arm purposefully pressed against your chest to suppress your sore tits.

he can practically smell the sweet slick spilling from your pussy bunny, smearing over the crotch of your panties.

toji briefly tugs at the string that holds the back of his apron together, swiftly pulling it over his head before tossing the piece of fabric onto the dining table. he steps forward, figure pressed against yours and you unconsciously stumble back. he makes you so weak.

“uh huh—“ you’re about to beg again, but he’s quick to scoop you up by your legs, hoisting you up into his arms. you yelp, but make no effort to get away — instead, nuzzling your face closer into the crevice his neck, dizzy at the detected mixed scent of his woody colonge and tart sweat.

he chuckles when you huff at the intial drop of your body onto the matress of your shared room, your plush body sinking into the pillowy sheets. your legs part naturally, taking up your invitation and having him slot himself right where you need him most. his broad shoulders press up against your plush thighs, spreading them further than before.

“bad bunny. y’know you can’t just have cock in ya twenty-four seven, right?” his left pointer finger tugs your flimsy shorts aside, and right thumb presses against the soaked patch of your cunt. you mewl under his touch, soft pads of your feet coming up to press him away. you gently shove at his bicep, but he barely moves. he knows you don’t want him to move anyway. “‘m n—not a bad bunny!”

“you are.”

“n—not, ‘m not mister!”

“hmm, i dunno about that.” he hums, pressing against your clothed clit. “are ya ever not in heat?"

"sir, please, n’more questions!" you whine in fustration, yelping when his pointer and thumb meanly pinches at your swollen bud. your eyes bulb with tears, meeting his that suddenly glare so meanly in comparison to his often soft, emerald ones.

"do you know who you're talking to?" toji growls, squishing the chub of your folds together, the slight simulation to your clit making you flinch.

"y—yes, sir. but please . . . mister, need you here, need your cock here!" you whine, ears sullied and pointed low. your hand moves his to take ahold of his finger, pressing it against your aching slit.

"there there . . ." he coos, thumb sliding over your clothed slit but paying it no attention. he presses a warm kiss on the soddened fabric, low lidded eyes and a smug grin that meet yours when he does. you're adorable like this — absolutely worked up and so terribly desperate; it's his favorite version of you.

"m—mister," you stammer,

"c'mere doll." he sits up against the headboard, pulling you onto his lap. you yelp when you feel the chub of his cock pressing against your folds, grinding down senselessly. toji laughs, getting a hold of your bicep to halt your hips movements. "don't be so greedy, bun."

"hnn—" you whine, tail thumping against his thigh. you slowly tug down his sweats, ears perking up when you realize the missing piece of fabric below — he's not wearing boxers!

he notices the way your eyes light up, cheeks begin to flush, and your expression grows brighter than before — you're one step closer to where you need to be. he almost hates the adorable expression sprawled across your face, chuckling when you look up to him with big-doed eyes searching for a green light.

you salivate when you tug the sweats just low enough, his cock slaps against his stomach. he scoffs, watching his cock leak against his soft skin. he’s getting old.

“inside now— mister—“ you pant, drool spilling at the corners of your mouth. you whine again, hands weakly tugging aside your shorts along with your panties, and aligning his cock head with your fat slit. “mister . . .” you whine, hinting for help.

“y’can do it.” toji grunts, placing a hand onto your plush hip. “ mmh, you got it.”

maybe you don’t ‘got it,’ because it burns so terribly when your folds swallow his cock!

“m—mister, mister !” you whine, quickly pulling yourself off his bulbous tip at the initial burn. he watches your slick stretch from your wet slit to his cock head, making him groan.

“calm down . . y’r rushin,’” he readjusts you, pulling your quivering hips close before you’re hovering over his cock again with small tears. “my bunny can’t do it herself, can’t she? whatta dumb lil’ thing.” toji chuckles, “there there.” he whispers with a sultry voice, making your cunt quiver around nothing.

you whine when you feel him tug down at your hips, whining when his hot tip presses against your slit once again — your slits kissing.

“big sir, s—so big,” you whine, a stutter in your voice from the stretch down low.

“slow down, hurts ‘cause you’re rushin.’ see?” he coos, lifting and lowering your hips over and over, fucking you on his tip. no — you don’t see because you’re awfully lightheaded, hands weakly stabilizing yourself above him but little do you know it’s solely his support keeping you up.

your cunt squelches with each and every single movement, a low ‘pop’ that elicits from your pussy whenever he moves you. “good girl. you can take it, am i ever wrong?”

“i—i can, can take it . . .” you slur, head fluffy and hands weak against his pelvis. “good girl. now sit.”

he grunts, pulling your hips down suddenly all the way, your cunt kissing on his dewy balls. “fuck, damn it.” toji groans — you cry at the stretch, cunt sore and raw when he grinds you down further than possible. “m—mister !”

he chuckles again, breath labored as he pushes the loose strands of his hair back. “worst part’s over, doll.” toji presses down at your arch to lay you against him. he can still feel your body twitching from hiccups of your previous fit — poor bunny. “i—it is . . “ you hiccup. he pets at your soft ear that trails down to your waist, giving your plush skin a soft pinch with a hum. “mister . . feels good . .” you purr, tail twitching incessantly again.

“course it does.”

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k. bakugou x reader

warnings: medieval au, angst with a somewhat happy ending, childhood friends to lovers (with some hiccups in between), brief mentions of death, morbid jokes, outdoor sex, p in v, fem-bodied reader, bkg calls you his ‘woman’ once

word count: 3k

notes: tbh i do not know where this came from. i had a very vague idea and ran with it, and here we are. hopefully everyone can enjoy it! (´͈ ᵕ `͈ ）

You’ve been traveling for so damn long, legs sore from the never ending trek, heels blistered from the rub of your boots, face chafed from the dry winds.

It could be worse, you suppose. The elements could be harsher. You’re lucky that it’s springtime and you’re not stuck in the dead of summer or winter. Plus, your company is better than most. It’s quiet between the two of you, as it has been for the last couple of years, but there’s no bickering, just a few snide comments borne of exhaustion. Truthfully, both of you are too tired to argue like you used to.

Suddenly, a rough hand shoots out to stop you in your tracks, and you look at Katsuki in alarm.

“Wha-”

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

His crimson eyes are fixed on something on the horizon. It’s nothing more than a glimmer to you, but if you squint…

“Is that…”

“Water.”

A river from the looks of it, beckoning you with open arms.

The two of you take off at a run (or the closest your aching bodies will allow), stumbling over dirt and grass until you’re at the edge of the glimmering stream. It babbles at you happily, splashing over rocks and caressing the earth around it.

“I’ve never seen anything so beautiful,” you half-joke. It is magnificent, but it still somehow pales in comparison to the man next to you who’s ripping his boots off. Not even this water could quench the craving you have for him.

“Gonna feel even better,” Katsuki mutters, glancing over at you then urging, “what, you shy? Take your clothes off n’ get in.”

Your cheeks heat at the demand but you end up doing just that. You haven’t bathed in god knows how long. The only water you had before was strictly for drinking no matter how much you had wanted to pour some over your head at times.

Like Katsuki, you pull your boots off first then shrug out of your outer layer of leather hide. Riding pants then your tunic. You hesitate at your undergarments, eyes darting to Katsuki’s already nude form as he drops to the ground and dips his legs in the river. His broad shoulders sag in relief, the wide expanse of his back exposed to the sunlight and glistening gold under the heat. You miss touching it, tracing over every pale scar, counting the stray freckles that dot his spine and ribs…

“Don’t be so awkward about it.” His voice snaps you out of your daydream. “Nothin’ I ain’t seen before.”

He’s right. It’s been a long time, but still. You’ve seen every inch of one another in the past, patching up training wounds then brushing lips over them.

“Don’t be so pushy,” you mumble, finally pushing your underwear down and taking off the wrap around your chest. Taking a deep, unencumbered breath, you let a small smile creep onto your face. The wind feels nice for once, cooling your skin that’s been sticky with sweat for what feels like forever.

Katsuki is standing now, up to his hips in the water, and holds a hand out for you. He doesn’t bother averting his eyes, only ever having been a gentleman when it’s suited him and apparently this is not one of those times.

It’s chilly at first, but after submerging your whole body, wetting your hair, the temperature is more than pleasant.

“Gods, that feels good,” you groan, scratching your nails over your dripping arms to scrub away as much grime as you can.

Katsuki dunks his head under, shakes his hair like a dog when he straightens up and pelts you in the face with stray drops. You splash him in return and initiate a small war, both of you now in a rare giddy mood despite your terrible circumstances.

The village was the only place you’d known. You spent your days like most of the other kids, tending to the land and training. It didn’t matter if you were a boy or a girl or whose house you came from. Everyone had to learn to fight, to brandish sword and shield and be ready to raise both in the event of a raid.

In the end that training hadn’t helped. What’s a few blades against a mountain of fire? How can a shield defend a burning corpse?

When all was lost—your mother, father, and the tiny shack you called home, you were ready to give up. Flames licked at your face, and smoke filled your lungs, but a familiar hand tugged you up from your knees and pulled, dragging you as he ran.

Out of the entire village, you and Katsuki are the only survivors.

You’ve thought about the event since your journey to the kingdom began, but in this moment, as the two of you fling water at each other, you don’t think about it at all. All you see is Katsuki’s sharp smile, the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes, the lightheartedness displayed on his face.

Even when you were kids Katsuki was a little severe. He was loud and abrasive and always scowling. Most of the other children were scared of him, but you never were. Where others saw rabid animal you saw a lonely boy who needed a friend, and you were more than happy to be that friend.

You were just training buddies at first and then your families began sharing meals, trading eggs for milk, splitting chores. Other families in the village had been doing the same for ages, but it had taken meeting Katsuki and his parents for yours to make the same connection.

Swapping meals turned to swapping stories, playing pretend, exploring the tall grasses and woods, and when both of you grew older it all progressed into something much more. Kisses under the moonlight, wildflowers at your window, nervous hands brushing over bare bodies.

Your parents knew and didn’t mind. The assumption was that you and Katsuki would start a family of your own, raise your own strong, passionate children.

Katsuki had other plans, though. A secret he had kept for years.

You’re going to leave me to fight for a king that doesn't care about us? Who keeps us pressed into the dirt with the toe of his boot?

I’m trying to make sure you’re okay! That everyone’ll be taken care of!

Everyone is fine here! We have land we can farm! We have stock to eat and water to drink!

How’s that enough for you?!

Your voices were raised, echoing through the trees that usually hid your late night escapades. Now they hid the end of them.

There was a town nearby. Small but bigger than the village. It had stone streets and places to shop, shelter that would actually keep you dry during storms and warm during winter. If Katsuki became a soldier, he’d be able to move you and his family there.

His family but not yours.

It simply wasn’t an option. You couldn’t leave them behind, and you were appalled that Katsuki would even suggest it. So that was it. That was your last real conversation. Everything else was about milk or eggs or crops. There was nothing left to say. Even when months passed and Katsuki didn’t leave the village you had no words for him, afraid to get reattached only to lose him.

Now, though, in the cleansing waters, it feels like you have everything to say, words that have been stuck in your throat since he pulled you from the cinders of your ruined village.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as he rubs his palms down his chest, nails reddening the muscles of his abdomen then scratching at the trail of hair that travels from his belly button to the water.

“Enjoying the view?” he chuckles, laugh growing when you whip your head away from him. “S’okay. I’m lookin’ too.”

That only makes you turn all the way around, crossing your arms over your breasts as the place between your legs begins to throb. He’s looking at you like that? After everything?

You take a shuddering breath, squeeze your eyes shut tight when you feel him touch your hip.

“Don’t.”

His thick fingers curl around the curved bone.

“Kat…”

“Why?” His voice is low, right behind you so that you feel the question on the nape of your neck.

“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want you to just because you don’t have any other options. Just because it’s only us.”

“That’s not what I’m asking.”

His other hand is on you now, both reaching around your waist to lock right above your pelvis.

“Why’d you stop talkin’ to me? Why didn’t we ever make up?”

“Why didn’t you ever leave?” you counter.

He goes rigid, arms tightening around you. “Didn’t want to.” Then, much quieter, “didn’t wanna leave you.”

The words hit you right in the chest, ricocheting in your ribcage. You wiggle to turn in his grasp, eyes wide as they stare into his.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

Katsuki frowns. One of those deep frowns. “You wouldn’t give me time of day! Any time you saw me you’d turn around. Could barely fuckin’ look at me.”

“Can you blame me?” You pull yourself out of his arms. “You wanted me to leave my parents behind. You wanted me to leave everything behind!”

“I wanted you to be taken care of! I wanted to take care of you!

You scoff. “I can take care of myself, Katsuki.”

“I know you can, but so can I. And I should,” he rasps. He looks more emotional than you’ve ever seen him, hair plastered to his forehead, water streaming into his pleading eyes. “I should be your husband by now.”

Your brain shuts down momentarily, unsure if you actually heard what he just said. He still wants to marry you?

“Of course I still wanna marry you!” Must have said that out loud. “I still wanna do everything with you. I’d walk through hell if I got to do it with you.”

Don’t cry. Do not cry. Do not show that you’ve been waiting to hear those words since that last fight.

He wipes a tear from under your eye with a calloused thumb, expression softening.

“Well,” you clear your throat, “I guess you’re in luck since we’re going through hell right now. Burnt village. Dead families…”

“Probably gonna get thrown in the dungeons when we get to the palace,” he adds casually. “King doesn’t take too kindly to outsiders.”

“Will you still think I’m pretty when rats start nibbling on my toes?” It’s dark to joke about. But life has not been kind to you as of late, and even in the midst of all of your fear and grief, you’re finally able to crack a smile (sad as it may be), and your stomach flips the way it used to.

“I’ll still think you’re pretty when they eat your face,” he tells you, caressing your cheek. It’s so sincere that it makes you laugh.

“That’s absurd.”

“What’s absurd is that I haven’t kissed you in a god damn eternity.”

You nearly tackle him into the water, arms around his neck as he catches you with a small ‘oof’, and even though the entire top half of your body is exposed to the air, it still feels like you’re entirely submerged. Drowning in Katsuki without want for oxygen.

His lips are chapped just like yours, yet they’re the softest thing you’ve ever felt. Gentle even with hungry teeth, tender even with his greedy tongue.

The water, once cool, feels boiling, like your bodies are giving off steam. His hands grab at your ass, fingertips digging into the fat of it before he lifts you to set you on the riverbank.

You immediately lock your legs around him, like you’re scared of him suddenly disappearing, but Katsuki attaches himself to you in the form of his mouth on your skin, nipping down your neck, sucking bruises down your shoulder and collarbone.

Frantic fingers find their way between your legs, grazing the inside of your thighs before softly brushing your sensitive folds.

“Missed you so much,” Katsuki grumbles, lowering himself in order to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

You hold his head tightly, pulling him further into you. “I missed you too, Kat. So much.”

The first finger sinks into your heat, making you whimper in satisfaction. Katsuki continues to suck on your hardened bud, swirling his tongue around it to distract you from the stretch of his second finger and the slight burn that comes with it.

“Fuck,” you gasp.

“I know, I know, I got you.” He uses a thumb to massage your clit, your legs trembling as your body begins to open up for him. “Can’t wait to feel your cunt again.”

“I’m ready,” you tell him. “I want you, please…”

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want you dripping’ before I give you my cock.”

You whine, thighs flexing around his waist. You aren’t giving him much room to work with, but you can’t stand the thought of letting him go. His hand is pressed tightly against you, fingers so deep in your pussy as he pumps and curls them. He finds your spot as if he had just touched you yesterday, always so good at reading you, and kisses your throat when you throw your head back.

He abuses the spongy tissue until you’re leaking into the water below, moaning his name and pulling his hair.

“Please, please, need you, Kat.”

He chuckles, an almost condescending, “shh shh, baby. It’s okay.”

He lines himself up and pushes in slowly—so slowly—his thick cock spreading your gummy walls. He feels impossibly large after so long apart, his tip alone stretching your entrance thin so that you scrunch your eyes shut.

“Feel so good already,” Katsuki groans. He pushes his hips forward, and even through the burn your body sucks him in further, begging for more.

“Takin’ me so well, fuck…”

Once he’s bottomed out, Katsuki stays still for several seconds, and your cunt clenches around him automatically, still trying to adjust to his size.

A slow rhythm to start, steady thrusts that drag along your walls and gently slide over your most sensitive spot. Moans stay caught in your throat, mouth open, and you know that as soon as you start making noise you won’t be able to stop.

Katsuki begins moving his hips faster, making the water splash around you on the bank. The chill of it is a stark contrast from the heat of Katsuki’s body and the affectionate burn in your chest.

His strong hands wrap around your head, holding you as he kisses you fiercely. His rhythm stutters, but his lips move against yours perfectly, forming the words, “I love you,” so desperately that it makes you ache. “I love you, I love you. I never stopped.”

“I love you too,” you breathe heavily into him, muscles tightening with every pointed thrust. Your sticky slickness drips out of you, making the slide of his cock effortless. He feels so good, so deep inside you the way he’s supposed to be. Always supposed to be.

“Squeezin’ me so sweet,” he croons, jaw dropping open as he loses himself in sensation. “Always so sweet to me…”

The feeling of his fingers on your clit again is enough to send you over the edge, your nails digging semi-circles into his back as you cry his name loud enough to echo in the emptiness around you.

The rhythmic pulsing of your orgasm milks the cum from Katsuki’s cock, the warmth of it coating your insides, filling you to the brim. He gasps with every thick string he shoots into you until he’s finally dry.

You let him rest his head on your shoulder for some time, giving you both a chance to catch your breath before you pull him out of the water and topple over into the grass.

The sun is setting, the sky painted orange and pink in the afterglow of yet another day. You admire the way it shines over the treetops, the rays of it bathing you in such a comforting way. Everything will be okay, you think. We can survive as long as we’re together.

“Guess I should go find us some food,” Katsuki eventually muses, adding a smirking, “gotta make sure my woman stays fed.”

You roll your eyes and give him a light shove. “Your woman can feed herself, thank you very much.”

“Don’t I know it,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “Never seen you so cock-hungry.”

“Oh my gods, Katsuki!”

“I’m just sayin’!” he laughs. More like cackles.

Your glare holds no weight, but you still suck your teeth at him and mumble, “think I’d prefer the rats over this.”

“Won’t be nearly as filling as—”

You cut him off by rolling on top of him and covering his mouth with yours. “Stop talking.”

He hums, settling his hands on the small of your back. “Only if you keep doin’ this.”

“I will if you keep your promise to marry me.”

“Second I can, I will.”

2023©️shdo-xplosion. please do not plagiarize, alter, or repost my work to any other platforms.

Professor's Pet (Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Professor! Reader)

Being a professor in an university for rich kids meant that dealing with spoiled students who tried to bribe their way into good grades was nothing new to you. Your latest troublesome student, however, was starting to become more than you could handle.

Warnings: Blackmail, bribery, reader is older and married, gojo is like 22-23, sexual coercion, oral (m. receiving) dubious consent, implied noncon, ooc gojo,

Every year, you stand up at the lectern in front of your latest batch of final year undergrad physics students and tell them the same thing.

The only way to pass this course is to actually fucking study.

This may be one of those elite colleges that the 1% send their snotty kids off to more so for the status than the actual education, but you would sooner run across 5 miles of glass barefooted before you became one of the many professors who’d take a bribe to change a failing grade.  

And every year without fail, at least five students will ignore your warning and make you come out to your office hours to try and bribe, blackmail or beg for those additional points to prove that they could be an exception. And in your seven years of running the thermodynamics course, you’ve never given in.

So when Satoru Gojo requested the 3pm slot shortly after the quarterly assignment grades came out, you already knew what was coming.

You were already somewhat familiar with the behaviour and quirks of Mr. Gojo despite this being the first course of yours that he enrolled in. He was a bright kid, according to what his previous professors told you, a possible nobel-prize level physicist in the making. The problem was that he knew it. He didn’t even have to say anything to showcase his arrogance. Just by the way he sat on the small couch in your office, snowy-locked head resting on its back, lean arms splayed across it, and his long, jean-clad legs propped up on your very delicate coffee table, you knew that this was a man who had never been humbled in his entire life.

Hopefully, that was going to change.

“Lovely office you got here, prof. More spacious than I expected.” He leaned his head in your direction, where you were resting against your desk a few feet away, arms folded.

“And might I also add that you look way more beautiful in natural light? Those harsh overheads in the lecture hall have been draining all the colour from your –“

“Let’s skip the attempts at flattery, Mr. Gojo.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes.  “You said in your request email that you wanted to talk about the last assignment?”

“Oh yeah!” he sat up a little. “Well, you gave me a 42 on that quiz.”

“Yes. That’s how many points you scored.”

“You see, I needed at least a 50 to pass.”

 “I’m aware of how the grading scheme works. So?”

“Sooo,” he was fully upright now, reaching for something in his satchel. “If you’re as kind as you are gorgeous, you’d bump my grade up by 8 measly points.” He pulled out an envelope and waved it in the air with a smug grin.  “And you’ll get something extra special if you raise it to a 70.”

You had to admit, this level of condescension and audacity was certainly unique compared to the usual demeanour of your bribers, but it certainly wasn’t going to shake you.

“I don’t change grades or take bribes, Mr. Gojo. I said this at the very first class.” You sighed.

“C’mon Teach, I wouldn’t say this is a bribe,” he set the envelope down on the coffee table. “I’m just giving you the chance to buy yourself something nice.”

“Son, everything I own in my closet is designer. My purse is Coach. I don’t need to rely on the pocket money of spoiled rich kids to buy nice things.” You replied flatly.

There was a brief pause. You swore that you saw his smug little grin falter for a moment, but it returned as soon as he started to speak again.

“Oh I get it now!” he rose from his seat and sauntered towards you. “A self-made woman like you needs more than just plain money to grease your palms, don’t you?”

Before you could shift, he was looming right in front of you, large hands placed on both sides of where you sat on the desk, his face dangerously close to yours.

“You need something a bit sweeter, don’t you?” he breathed, his voice silky.  He leaned closer, sunglasses tilting just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his bright blue eyes. “When was the last time you let someone fresh-faced take you for a ride, hmm? I bet it’s been-“

“G-R-O-S-S.” you deadpanned, pushing him away. “I wouldn’t risk my job for money, but you think I would risk it and my marriage for some mediocre play? You’re lucky I won’t report you for misconduct.”

Usually, when it came down to the situation where the briber tried to seduce you, your method of rejecting them with disgust would generate enough embarrassment for them to regain their self-awareness and leave.  Gojo, however, simply huffed, looking more annoyed than ashamed.

“You’re being real difficult you know, prof.”

“A woman is nothing is without her principles, Mr. Gojo.” You replied. “And frankly, I’m quite tired of you and the other spoiled students who think they can ignore my sole boundary and buy their way out of their mistakes.”  You scooped up his satchel and tossed it towards him.  He took the hint and headed towards the door, a defeated scowl fully replacing the smirk from earlier.  You recalled the praises the rest of the department sung about him, and how, at least when it came to academics, he didn’t match your usual suspects.

“For a failing grade it’s not even that bad.” You confided. “If you get high scores on the mid-term and 2nd assignment, you’d be in a good position for the final. But that’s only if you understand the material, which I know you’re capable of doing. You’re too brilliant of a student to be playing these kinda games.”  He paused a bit at your words before continuing into the hallway.  You watched his back from the doorway.

“If you need my actual assistance, you know my office hours!” you shouted after him.

He simply waved in response.

>>>>>>>> 

“Do you think I should transfer to another university?” you looked across the dinner table at your husband, Makoto, who was preoccupied with his meal until he registered your question.

“Why?” he asked, mouth still partially full. “Don’t tell me that Gojo guy is your final straw.”

“I mean, it’s gotten to the point where even the potential nobel prize students don’t wanna work earnestly! Most of the professors also don’t care and take the bribes and some of them even tease me about it! I don’t know, it feels like I’m the only hard-headed bitch in the entire faculty who wants to maintain some kind of integrity and-"

You feel a warm hand cup your cheek, Makoto’s signature method of calming you. Your frustrated eyes met with his gentle gaze, and he maintained this gentleness as he spoke.

“Sweetheart, I’ll support anything you want to do, but you need to make sure you’re not stressing yourself out over something that’s not within your control. It’s not your responsibility to fix the school’s culture. Just do your best. Which is usually phenomenal.” He smiled. You couldn’t help but return it. Your eyes followed him as he picked up the plates to load up the dishwasher.

“And who knows? Maybe your words got through to Mr. Future Nobel Prize and the next time he wants to see you is to discuss the work.” He paused. “Although, I will admit, the thought of a supposedly handsome young man who tried to seduce my wife spending time alone with her makes me uneasy. How tall did you say he was again?”

You chuckled. “Relax, hotshot. There’s only one handsome man in the entire world I’d let near my privates, and I’m married to him. Besides, I’m sure a healthy pretty boy like him isn’t actually interested in old hags like me.”

He walked over and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s still possible, you’re the most beautiful hag I’ve ever seen.”

>>>>>>>> 

Three days later, Gojo was sitting haphazardly on your office couch again.

He had requested the 4pm timeslot this time, which took place an hour after the lecture. It was rare for students to return after you reject their offers, and usually when they did, it was to test their luck again, so when you heard the words that fell out of his mouth, you did a double take.

“You said... you said want to… discuss the topic from today??” you stammered.

“Ugh,” he groaned, looking away from your clearly astonished expression. “Stop looking at me like I grew another pair of eyes.”

“This isn’t some sort of prank, right? There aren’t any hidden cameras anywhere?” you started scanning the room.

“Jeez lady, what kind of students have you had to deal with?” he said, bemused. “Look, I just put some thought into what you said the other day.” He scratched the back of his head. “I am better than grovelling for a grade. I just... I never failed an exam before this course, so I felt kind of…embarrassed. I wanted to hide it.”

You leaned forward, meeting his crystalline eyes. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about kid. Even Einstein failed shit at some point or another. What’s a real sign of intelligence is that you came to me.” You plopped down on the couch next to him.

“So, let’s get started! What are you having trouble with?”

>>>>>>>>>>>> 

Before you knew it, Satoru (he insisted you call him that now) had become a part of your work routine. He would come to your office hours after every lecture to review the topics. He’d email you with any burning questions on his mind. You even gave him your work cell number so he could call you for guidance during the midterm project.  His attitude did a 180 too. He started showing up early to lectures instead of rolling in a half hour late. He answered questions when asked. If he caught you in the hallways on the way to your next teaching, he’d offer to carry your books for you. Sometimes, you’d let him.

With the frequency of his visits, it was only natural that eventually the topics would occasionally steer away from just academics. Of course, you made sure to keep the small talk within a professional line, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy just shooting the breeze with him. When he’s not humble bragging about his status or smarts, Satoru was actually a pretty funny guy, if a little strange in his humour. You found his conspiracy theory that Professor Mei is actually some kind of loan shark to be very entertaining, even if you had to shut it down.

But the greatest part of this development for you was that it felt like after so many years of dealing with students that held no passion for the field, you had finally made a breakthrough. Sure, the possibility that he was only doing all of this to butter you up for a huge favour still hung over your head, but for now, he was applying himself, he was interested in the material, and at the end of the day, you were accomplishing what you set out to do as an educator.

You were sharing these sentiments with Makoto at the dinner table on the night after finals.  You told him how Satoru was among the students who flocked to you after the exam to express their confidence in their knowledge. He smiled half-heartedly, absent-mindedly picking at his food. You paused your chatter and took note of the worsening dark circles under his eyes and his dry lips. You knew he hadn’t been sleeping well these past few weeks, he said it was something about work stressing him out and to not worry about it, but there’s been too many nights where you woke up to find him still at his desk around 3 am, and despite your attempts to soothe him by taking on some of his chores and  the stress seemed to be affecting his eating habits too.

Realizing that the air was now filled with silence, Makoto looked up from his plate to meet your examining eyes.

“I’m sorry, I was a little lost in thought. What were you saying?” he chuckled nervously.

“I stopped talking to look at your tired face. I said it before, but you need to take a break!” You reached out to squeeze his arm. He remained quiet. “I know! The semester is closing soon, we’ll take our time off for a week and go somewhere!” you excitedly suggested. “I heard Samoa is nice this time of year! Fiji is pretty good too but to get tickets at this point might be hard. I don’t’ want to stress you out any further maybe-”

You felt soft lips pressing against yours, Makoto’s warm hands cupping your cheeks. Your initial surprise melted away from his ever-gentle touch, reaching up to feel his hair. But when you tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, his eyes glassy.

“What’s this about?” you hummed, playing with his shirt collar. “Trying to tell me to be quiet?”

“I… I just love you a lot.” He smiled, pulling you into an embrace. “I love that I have someone who fusses over me like you do. I love you so much.”

“I love you too.” You kissed the crook of his neck. “You must be really worn out, honey. Let’s take a bath and go to bed.”

He hummed in response.

>>>>>>> 

Makoto was gone.

You woke up on a cold Saturday morning to find his side of the closet empty, a suitcase missing. His car was no longer in his spot in the garage. You called his phone, no answer. You texted; the messages refused to change to delivered. You called his parents, his friends, his job. Nobody knew where he was. You drove all over town to his favourite spots, still clad in your pyjamas, hoping someone would’ve seen him. It was only when you solemnly dragged yourself back to your house late in the evening that you found the note he left next to your laptop.

“Sorry. It’s for the best.”

The aftermath was rough. Food stopped being edible. You couldn’t sleep in your shared bedroom anymore. It was a good day if you had enough energy to brush your teeth. At least one of your friends made sure to check in on you daily, their comfort coming in the form of helping you with daily tasks and expressing their disdain for Makoto for doing this to you.  Lines like “He’s a vile idiot!”, “He doesn’t know what he’s throwing away!” and “he’s been horrible to you!” were on repeat whenever they came around, and at first, you wanted to believe it. But when the anger stage of grief finally dissipated, you couldn’t help but feel like this was more than a man throwing away his marriage just because. You tried to express this to your comforters, but you were met with talks about seeking counselling or how to deal with denial. But they weren’t there. They weren’t there that night when he gently expressed his love for you. They weren’t there whenever he bought you something simply because it reminded him of you. They weren’t there when he’d rub soothing circles into your back when you were stressed. It was you who was receiving his seemingly endless love for the past 10 years. That’s why it was you who lay awake at night, mind endlessly searching for a plausible explanation. And it was cruel, but sometimes on those sleepless nights you found yourself wishing that he disappeared because he was kidnapped or lost at sea and not because he had willingly left you behind. Maybe then you wouldn’t be haunted by the notion that this was somehow all your fault.

You returned to the faculty after two weeks. It was a temporary arrangement; you were to finish grading the last batch of finals and upload them to the system before you took another two weeks of your vacation leave.  You did your best to appear put together, but no amount of makeup and nice clothes could hide the hollowness in your eyes. None of your coworkers tried to offer any condolences, but you figured this was less due to kindness than it was due to the fact that it’s harder to say, “sorry about your husband abandoning you with no explanation!” without feeling awkward.  Thankfully, no one else really got the chance to speak with you further since you locked yourself in your office all day.

You were getting sick of seeing the same questions over and over again when you heard a knock on your door. Satoru’s snowy head peeked through the door.

“Prof?” he closed the door behind him. “What are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you that, Satoru.” You responded. “Classes don’t resume until next month. Why are you on campus?”

“Club stuff. Just finished.” He strolled towards your desk and pulled one of the chairs to sit. “I saw the lights in your office on my way back and since you haven’t been answering my texts and Mei said you weren’t well I just wanted to check on you.” You sighed.

“That’s sweet of you but you’re too young to be worried about your professor. You should be partying or something.” You half-smiled. He stared at your face, taking in your miserable appearance.

“What happened to you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. “You look like shit.”

You don’t even feel defensive because you knew it was true, but there was no way you were going to discuss your relationship problems with your decade- younger student, no matter how much you liked them.

“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.” You said, your tone dismissive. “You should leave, I’m grading papers and you can’t-”

“He left you didn’t he? Your husband.”  You shot him a nasty glare. How did the hell did he know, and why did he think that this was an appropriate topic to discuss?

“I lied. Mei told me what was really going on. I’m sorry I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

You scoffed. “Well if you can tell me what would compel a man to ditch his wife right after telling her he loved her more than anything, that’d be a great fucking help.”

“Welll,” he started, his tone light. “Maybe he was actually an alien studying human companionship that finally collected enough data for his report! Or it could be that he was a government spy, and he got another assignment.” You rolled your eyes.  His imaginative yet terrible reasons were actually working to provide some kind of relief.

“Or,” he scooted closer to you. “Maybe a rich student from the Gojo family paid him $500,000 to leave you so he could have you all to himself.”

You whipped your head around to face him. He was smiling, gazing at you as if he was waiting for you to laugh. You feel a shiver run down your spine.

“That’s not funny, Satoru.”

“I’m not joking.” He sang. “Here, take a look for yourself.” He held up his phone to your face. A screenshot of bank transactions was on it. Makoto’s name and account was on the top of the list.

You stood up, bringing your hands to your face, your mind battling with the evidence before you.

“No… no… I don’t understand… my husband wouldn’t… he wouldn’t fucking sell me like some piece of furniture!” you looked over at Satoru, who had gotten up to lean on your desk, a pleased grin displayed on his face.

“I can’t lie to you; you sure know how to pick ‘em.” He shrugged. “He’s just as stubborn as you when it comes to accepting offers. I had to tell him I would kill you if he refused for him to finally accept the deal.” He laughed airily. “Not that I would ever do that, of course.”

It was like a punch to the gut. You collapse to your knees, clutching your chest. Against your will, your brain started putting the clues together. This was why Makoto was having trouble sleeping at night. This was why he held you so tightly the night before he left. Why his last message to you was an apology. Because of a demon you mistook for a troubled student. You could see the demon’s shoes near your knees.

“Why… why did you do this? Revenge? I helped you… you passed the course.” You spat out.

He bent down to your level, a hand resting on your shoulder. “Honestly, the original plan was to get back at you. I was gonna convince the entire university that we were fucking, so I started hanging around you as much as I could to fuel the rumors. I was even gonna film myself fucking you senseless and spread it to the faculty to get you fired!” His hand creeped up from your shoulder to the base of your neck. “But then I ended up falling for you. For real. Who wouldn’t? You’re perfect. So I settled for getting rid of your hubby instead! I’m not a guy who can be satisfied with just being the other man, you know~.”

You were frozen in place on the floor, tears spilling from your shocked face. You looked up at him, and he was still smiling, aquamarine eyes looking down at you as if he just gave you a cute confession, instead of the horrific admission that he was utterly deranged.

It took the feeling of his lips brushing against yours for you to regain enough sense to push him away, the force of it causing you to fall back on your ass. You crawled backwards and away from him.

“Don’t touch me!” you snarled.

He stayed crouched on the floor, looking at you like a lion would look at a wounded gazelle. “I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to be over the moon about this, but to see you like this... Hmmm…” he trailed off, as if in thought. You needed to get the fuck out of this office. This university. You needed to find your husband. As you slowly rose, he clapped his hands together, making you flinch.

“I got it!” he exclaimed. “You want to see him again, don’t you?” he rose and stalked towards you.  A hand was on your hip, another on your chin, tilting your face to meet his manic eyes.

“Let’s have some fun together,” he whispered. “If you’re good, I’ll give you his new number. That’ll cheer you up, right?”

Another fucking bribe. You wanted to kick him as hard as you could. You wanted to gouge out those pretty eyes. You wanted to vomit. You wanted your husband. And this might be the only way to get him. You could get the police involved, but what could they possibly do? They probably wouldn’t even believe you. You had no other choice.

“What do you want me to do?”

You were on your knees near the desk, your clothes discarded, leaving you in your underwear. Satoru was standing in front of you, eyes blown wide in anticipation, mouth salivating. Your lips were swollen from the searing kiss he gave you when he was undressing you and you were sure that there were going to be bruises present on your neck from his affections.  You felt his fingers tap your cheek, a signal to hurry up.

“Go ahead, pretty thing.” He groaned. “Take it out.”

With shaky hands, you undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. His cock sprung free from its confines. You swallowed thickly. It was big, bigger than Makoto’s. You felt a hand pet your head. With a deep breath, you open your mouth you try to fit as much as you can without gagging.

You slowly bobbed your head along his length with your eyes squeezed shut. You tried to imagine it was someone else you were doing this to, someone who didn’t ruin your life, but Satoru’s babbling above you made it impossible to deny that it was him.

“Do you know how many times- fuck- I dreamed about this?” he hissed, hands running through your hair. “Thought about those pretty lips wrapped around my cock so much- hah- “ he suddenly gripped the sides of your head and started thrusting himself further down your throat, causing you to cry out in panic. It was too much, his pace too fast, choking you. You started smacking his thighs with your fists, tears clouding your vision.

“So sorry baby” he slurred, his voice thick and heavy. “it just feels so good I can’t- hah- stop! You’re so good f’me! Sosososogoood-"

He let out a shameless groan, and something salty and tangy and awful filled your throat. He released you and you immediately pulled back, gasping and spitting almost simultaneously. You sat on the back of your thighs as you tried to regain your breath. Satoru fell back onto your desk chair, body relaxed, face blissed out. You decided to cut his high short.

“I gave you want you wanted Satoru.” You spoke, breath still shaky. “Now give me what I want.”

He rose from the chair. “Actually, about that. I gave it some thought while I was kissing you.” He stalked closer and closer. “If I let you call him, your sweet voice might compel him to try and come back here. Can’t let that happen, then I’ll lose you.” He kneeled in front of you, gazing at your horrified face.  He pushed you onto your back, one hand pinning your arms above your head, the other toying with the hem of your panties.

You felt something in your chest snap.

“You lying son of a bitch!” you screeched, wriggling and thrashing in an attempt to get out of his grip.  He simply chuckled in response.

“Come now professor, I already told you. I’m not a guy who can live with being the other man.”  He smirked as he leaned forward to kiss your snarling lips.

“You said it yourself. A man is nothing without his principles, right?”

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Summary: When you see Choso, it's different every time. Every summer, he's a little taller. Every summer, his voice is a little deeper, a little richer. Every summer he's more handsome. And as you both grow together, so does your love.

** A story of love blooming between two individuals over many, many summers.

Pairing: Choso Kamo x F! Reader

Genre: Childhood Friends to Lovers AU, Summertime AU, College AU

A/N: This story contains depictions of drowning and will have NSFW themes/content. Minors DNI

Story Warnings/Tags: Angst, Mutual Pining, Childhood Friends to Lovers, A lot of Tears, Choso and Reader both being bad at feelings, Growing Together, Summer Romance, Jealousy (Both Reader and Choso), First Love, Possessive Behavior, Life Changes, College Struggles, Profanity (of course)

○ PROLOGUE (CHAPTER 1): The Day We Met ○ You were nine years old when you'd laid eyes on the ocean for the first time. You had no idea that the ocean would also bring you to the boy who would hold your heart one day.

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

○ CHAPTER 2: Our Summers ○ A journey through time and all the inevitable changes.

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

○ CHAPTER 3: Life Goes On ○ Things take a turn.

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

○ CHAPTER 4: The Truth Untold ○ Will this pain ever stop?

✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕ ✕

○ CHAPTER 5: Beyond the Horizon

Revenge Is Sweet (Series Masterlist)

~ a Tom Holland Social Media AU

》 STATUS: completed…for now ;) 》 PAIRING: college!football player!tom x college!female!reader 》 TROPE/GENRE: college au; fake dating au; idiots to lovers; angst; fluff; crack-ish 》 WARNINGS: the most cliché of clichés, tropes galore, cheating, pettiness, language, sexual jokes + innuendos, gossips + tea, football ⚽️, not-so-accurate photos, not-so-accurate depictions of college, harrison being a swiftie, tom being a huge flirt, football!player!tom!, flirtatious conversations (e.g. teasing talks & hints of/about sex, nothing explicit), cheesy one-liners, even cheesier captions/tweets, sprinkles of angst, very cute/soft/sweet moments, and long ass text messages especially as the series progresses.

✩ TOM HOLLAND MASTERLIST ✩ MAIN MASTERLIST ✩

⊱ ─────.⋅♚ *｡･ﾟ.★. *｡･ﾟ✫*.

➽ Synopsis:

What happens if your boyfriend cheats on you with your well-known tormenter? Even more exciting, what happens if the Tom Holland—football captain, campus heartthrob, your well-known tormenter’s boyfriend, etcetera—asks you to get revenge on them with him? To put things not so simply, if your boyfriend cheated on you with his girlfriend, who cheated on him with your boyfriend, would that make you friends? Or maybe…something more?

➽ Parts:

⚽️ Intro ⟶ the players ⚽️ Part 1 ⟶ honeymoon phase  ⚽️ Part 2 ⟶ too good to be true ⚽️ Part 3 ⟶ accidental rebound ⚽️ Part 4 ⟶ ️if your enemy is my enemy… ⚽️ Part 5         ↳ 5.1 ⟶ charm & persuade         ↳ 5.2 ⟶ pros & cons ⚽️ Part 6 ⟶ ️game plan ⚽️ Part 7 ⟶ ️let’s start rumours ⚽️ Part 8         ↳ 8.1 ⟶ fiery & reveal(?)         ↳ 8.2 ⟶ real & fake(?) ⚽️ Part 9         ↳ 9.1 ⟶ perfect & precious company         ↳ 9.2 ⟶ ️pregame care & packages ⚽️ Part 10 ⟶ oscar-worthy “acting” ⚽️ Part 11 ⟶ chase(ing) self-deception ⚽️ Part 12 ⟶ revenge is bitter ⚽️ Part 13         ↳ 13.1 ⟶ assist to goal (bc idiot needs help)         ↳ 13.2 ⟶ assist to goal (bc other idiot needs help) ⚽️ Part 14 ⟶ ️for real, this time ⚽️ Part 15 ⟶ revenge turned out sweeter [final]

➽ Extras:

tom asking begging for your number

⚽️ REVISTING IS SWEETER (Masterlist)

a collection of Revenge Is Sweet written extras

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ♛ *.

✎ feedback is always appreciated <3

©️ t-lostinworlds, 2021

Everything You Wanted (Zuko x Servant! Reader) PART ONE

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗶 𝘀𝗽𝘂𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝗳𝘂 𝗵𝗼𝘁𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗵𝗲𝗵𝗲

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗿, 𝗿𝗼𝘆𝗮𝗹𝘁𝘆/𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽, 𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝟮

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗽𝗶𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘂𝗲

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

For the first time in years, the room of the Banished Prince looked inhabited.

You swallowed down a shiver as you pushed the large doors open and stepped inside. You had no right to do this. You had no right to walk through one of the royal bedrooms with curious eyes and curious hands rather than a downcasted head and shuffling feet. Your purpose in life was to serve the royal family. You were to worship the very ground they walked on and to cherish the very air that they breathed. Yet here you were, acting as if you were their equal. Acting as if you belonged here. As if you didn’t know your place. 

No matter how cruel the royal family was, you knew that you never amounted to nothing more but just another grain of sand in the Si Wong Desert. Insignificant. Expendable. Replaceable. You should know this. You do know this. You’ve always known this.

Yet, you couldn’t help it. You had almost lost all hope. It was no wonder you had lost yourself within your own passion when you heard he was coming home.

Stepping lightly on the expenses floors, you made sure to carefully leave the door open just a little. It was the same way as you found it- no doubt a result of Prince Zuko leaving his room in a hurry to a meeting that was just abruptly called. The thought made you frown as you gripped the hem of your dress and silently made your way across the large room. 

You hadn’t seen him since his return except from afar. You couldn’t dare to. From the day you met him as just a little servant girl, hiding behind her mother’s legs, you felt the blossoming of a crush within your naive, child-sized heart. But as time grew on, you matured. You grew and grew and grew, but you never could quite outgrow your feelings for the Crown Prince. Instead, your feelings seemed to evolve over time. Shy glances and soft stutters from a little girl that desperately wished for her puppy love to go away moved on to become warm faces and daring thoughts from a teenage girl with a brain bolder than a servant should ever have. 

You sighed longingly as you walked up to the large four-poster bed that sat in the middle of the room. Moonlight poured in the window, giving the ornately decorated but mostly empty room a haunting glow. Never in your life have you ever done something as audacious as trespassing on one of the royal bedrooms. But only in private could you act on your whims and wishes. Only in private could you dream up a double meaning for every single glance or word he had sent in your direction. You could fantasize what it was like to be held in the arms of his forbidden affections. But you were only a peasant. Nothing but a simple girl. You would never see a truth in your daydreams. You would forever have to play make-believe about a Prince who didn’t know your name would one day love you. 

So lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how far you traveled into the room until you found yourself sitting on red sheets that held small, beautiful patterns. The bed wasn’t made. It served as another sign of his hasty departure. But it was another sign that you shouldn’t be here. You don’t know when he’ll come back. He might even appear in the middle of your dangerous game. Even so, you could not help but reach out a hand to get a feel of a luxurious material you’ve only washed and dried. The fabric was still warm in some places. Hardly a moment of rest for royalty, you suppose. But surely the Crown Prince deserved a break after his banishment, right? You heard of his noble feats. No ordinary man could do what the great Prince Zuko had done- you were sure of it.  

Trailing your fingers of the fine silk, you froze, drawing in a sharp breath as you realized the weight of your actions. These thoughts of yours were reckless in every shape of the word. You were getting far too comfortable with breaking rules tonight. Or was this carelessness? Either way, this would surely result in your if you didn’t-

“Don’t stop now. You looked like you were getting comfortable.” 

You should have never come here.

“My Prince!” You stood up suddenly, backing into one of the large golden pillars of his four-poster bed. The light from the hallway casted a large shadow across his face as he stood with his back against the large door. His arms were folded over his red-robed chest, and a familiar scowl rested on his face as he looked at you in what you could only imagine being disgust. You couldn’t help but gulp at his expression, heartbreaking into pieces, as you bowed your head deeply and upturned your palms in submission. “F-forgive me, my Prince! When I heard of your return, I-”

You were an idiot. A fool. Deep down, you knew this was going to happen. How could you ever think to sneak into the crown prince’s bedroom without any repercussions? There were guards posted everywhere. The Fire Nation Royal Palace was built not unlike Boiling Rock. A heavily guarded, heavily armed fortress with eyes posted everywhere. No matter how innocent your intentions may have been, there is no doubt that your hubris will go not go unpunished. Maybe you even wanted this to happen. Perhaps you were so desperate for his attention- so desperate to stand out to him that it drove you to do the unthinkable. In the pursuit of your dear Prince’s adoration, you found yourself the object of his glare.

Or so you thought. 

Amidst your mindless babbling, you missed how he pushed himself off of the door and shut it with a loud thud. He unfolded his arms and stalked his way over to you shaking form with a confidence you had never seen before. The time he spent away from his home had hardened him into a warrior. A predator that had spent countless nights honing his skill to be the best of the very best. The man who killed the avatar. And now you were his prey. He was taking his time with you. Toying with you. Enjoying you. Drinking in your very being with insatiable, glowing gold eyes. With slow, calculated steps, he inched closer and closer until he was able to shove your back into a pillar. 

Instinctively, a gasp poured through your lips as the back of your head hit the hard surface. You couldn’t tell if that felt worse than his tight grip on your arms or the ache in your heart. Either way, something had to be the cause of the tears that threatened to spill. The way he caged in your body with his own intimidating physique was suffocating. While the position looked intimate, the situation was dangerous. At this moment, he was both your jailer and escape- a conflict of emotions and interests that sent your dizzy mind in an uproar. 

His right hand loosened its grip on your forearm before it let go of it completely. He turned his palm towards you, and you felt your eyes widen in silent distress. Was this your punishment? Were you to be burned right where you stood? With no hope of mercy, repentance, or forgiveness? 

By the hands of the man you loved?

But deep down, you knew you had no right to complain. Your eyes closed slowly as you fell limp in his grip. You truly had no right to argue or barter about your punishment. You were a peasant. You had rules. But you broke them. Now you have to pay the price. You dug your grave. It was only right that you take everything that was given to you with blurry eyes and a thankful heart that reminded you of how things could have been worse. 

But your punishment never came. 

“I’ve lost everything, you know?” 

Light as a feather, his right hand circled your left wrist and pulled it towards his figure. This was unexpected. His movements were slow and shaky- as if he was the one who should be fearing for his life. Never in your life did you imagine that you’d ever find yourself in such a situation. A situation that stemmed from what should have been a punishment, no less. And yet, his touch was delicate as he placed your hand on a part of his chest that was left open through his robe. Your eyes flickered open to meet his intense golden gaze as your palm made contact with burning skin and a soft but steady beat. His heart.

“Everything.” He repeated, not once taking his eyes off of you. Nodding shakily, you mouthed the powerful word with silent lips. You had never seen his scar before. You thought it made him look very handsome. “Everything.”

His voice had become raspy and low with age. It held a certain heaviness that weighed down your own heart as you detected the swirl of emotions that lived behind the voice. It was as if despair and rage had grabbed at his throat with an iron grip and crushed and crushed until there was nothing left but bitterness, regret, and loss. Despite this, it was soft. Soft and quiet in an almost soothing way. Was this acceptance of his own secret troubles? Was this relief to be home? Or… was this voice reserved for you?

But like fire, he changed his course very quickly.

“My pride. My honor. My status. My throne. My family.”

His next words came out in a deep and threatening growl. If he had gotten any louder, you’d be inclined to call it a shout. You could feel the threat that punctuated all of the things he lost as he snatched up your other wrist with unexpected strength. You were trapped in the way he wanted you to be as he held you in a tight grip. One hand made to be pressed against his chest. Another hand held suspended in the air. This was the warrior you could hear behind the voice. But this was not the boy you once knew. This was not the boy you fell hopelessly in love with. This was not your Prince Zuko. This was all that was left of him. All that was left of the boy who was forced to leave home.

So you whimpered. 

And he softened. 

He relaxed his hold on you with a sigh and hung his head. But he didn’t let go. His long hair created a shadow over his eyes and face making his expressions unreadable. You didn’t know what to think. For a while, he was as still as a corpse. If it weren’t the soft pulsating of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips and the slow rise and fall of his chest, you could have been convinced that he was the one who died right where he stood. And that scared you.

You were surprised when he brought his head up and started to move again. Moving slowly and with that feather-light grip he had earlier, the hand held your wrist in the air guided your hand closer and closer until finally…it rested on the left side of his face. The second you made contact with the burned skin, you watched his eyes grow steely and hard as they trained on your face. He was watching you. Almost daring you to indulge. A challenge you selfishly accepted. 

Your thumb trailed little circles on his cheek, causing gold eyes to slip close as he pressed against your hand. A deep inhale followed by a quiet exhale as he cuddled into you like a young child. You could not believe it. Your poor heart has been through too much excitement today. The chance to live out your crush was starting to feel like too much. But every touch- every little feeling as your thumb circled over the cold, rough, red skin of his burn reminded you that this was real. That this was happening and that this was now and that he was in pain and you are the one to comfort him. Tonight, you weren’t dreaming. His body is far too warm to think otherwise.

“Starting tomorrow,” He spoke with his eyes closed- voice barely above a whisper as you both selfishly gave in to your desires as servant and master. Prince and peasant. Everything and nothing. “Your new orders are to serve me and me alone, got it?”

“Yes,” You whispered, voice barely traveling to his ears. It was almost lost in the ambiance of the world outside the Prince’s moon-lit bedroom. But you knew he heard it. You could tell by the way he shivered in your hold. “Yes, my prince.”

There was a pregnant pause before he opened his eyes and stepped away from your touch.

“You are not to leave my side. Wherever I go, you go. No matter what anyone tells you.” He ordered with all the firmness and finality a prince could hold. With his face set in a straight line and his eyes holding you in an intimidating stare, you couldn’t do anything but quietly nod your head and avert your gaze. But with one last bold movement, he stepped towards you and grabbed your chin, and forced your head up to meet his eyes.

“I’ve lost everything.” He repeated quietly. How he managed to sound more heartbroken than the first time he told you, you’ll never know. But oh, how you felt it. 

“ But I will not lose my everything. Ever. Again.”

And with a final growl, he was gone. The moment between you two has ended, leaving you with nothing but questions you will never ask. Questions you’ll never get answers to. Questions you’ll never fully understand.

But you couldn’t complain. You couldn’t dare complain about what just happened. You got his intimate hold. You got his kind eyes. His kind voice. His attention. And now? You get to be by his side from now on. 

You got everything that you wanted, didn’t you?

Right?

1K MILESTONE EVENT PLAYLIST

you have picked the prompts, and now it's time for me to whip them into tales !

#001 married on purpose — with . . . gojo satoru ! -> “for one, i can show you incredible things!” jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

#002 happy marriage — with . . . nanami kento ! -> “you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” or so it should have been. where did you and kento go wrong?

#003 two lies and a truth — with . . . itadori yuji ! -> “it's me and not him!” it's a dream comes true for you when your crush texts you back. little do you know that the one behind the phone isn't him but rather the boy who has long held onto the purest of feelings for you from afar... your best friend, itadori yuji.

#004 lover's quarrel — with . . . fushiguro megumi ! -> “i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

#005 rightfully yours — with . . . okkotsu yuta ! -> “i just have to ask. will you go out with me?” the special grade jujutsu sorcerer, your classmate, has asked you out and you couldn't be happier. only sometimes, it doesn't feel right to be with him... especially when one way or another, he is still bound by his first love—rika.

#006 memories — with . . . gojo satoru ! -> “tell me the truth, what are we?” you awaken to find your memories gone. and the charming man with the most beautiful eyes you have ever seen is the clue to your past memories.

#007 the way i love you — with . . . fushiguro megumi ! -> “if you feel safer with me being here, then i’ll be here.” megumi has long been pining on you, and throughout it all he doesn't understand. you could've had someone better—someone who would treat you right. why can't you see that he is right in front of your eyes all this time?

note: thank you so much for those who have stopped by to pick the prompts! i can’t promise when i’ll start posting them because well… life, but i think the earliest should be by next week though! (i hope)

some of these, if not most, are combinations of several requests that i merged into one story, you'll find your suggestions there, i promise! i'm not sure how much you'll enjoy this... but i sure hope that you will!

Stain

[Five Hargreeves x Reader]

Summary : You Paint Five.

Warning : None? But feels like there should be. Romanticism?

"I want to paint you."

The words escape past your lips like a shot. Swift and precise.

You have been sitting in his room for the past two hours. The two of you are next to the window, on the floor, reading. Or trying to anyway, considering you cannot focus on anything apart from him.

Something about the sunlight filtering through the window, casting shades of warm hued colors— mixed in a way you couldn't decipher one from another, made him look like a real life painting.

Your hands itch with the need to capture it. To hold this moment in your hand and spill it on a canvas. The thought loads in your mind, and before you know the trigger is pulled.

And here we are.

Five staring at you, confusion etched across his face. As though he's not quite sure what you said.

"What?"

In any other instance, you would have changed the topic. But now, now that you've expressed your wish, you don't want to back down. If anything, it has your desire intensifying.

"I want to paint you," You repeat, this time soft. A plea.

"Wh—"

"Shhh."

He has questions. He always has questions. Right now, you can't see past your desire to paint him. So, silencing him is the best option.

"Please," a whisper.

He considers you, gear turning behind his eyes, contemplating, weighing the pros and cons. By the end of his thought process, his eyes soften, and he nods.

"Alright."

You smile. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning. "Could you blink into my room, and bring my supplies?"

He huffs in exasperation. Yet, the curl of his lips has a shadow of fondness to it.

30 mins in and you find yourself losing concentration.

It's not that you don't want to paint him anymore. Not at all.

The certain craving you had has subsided now that paint covers your hands. But not entirely, there's still something beneath the surface, a hidden ache of sorts.

That, and Five cannot seem to sit still.

"Stop moving," You order.

"I'm not," he retorts, as he leans over slightly.

Exhaling in annoyance, you decide to take matters in your own hands.

Shifting closer to him, your free hand closes around his jaw in a soft grip.

It works.

He's stiller than a statue, you muse, continuing with your task. A few moments pass before you notice thinking, I would say he's barely even breathing—

Your gaze snaps towards him.

You realize the gravity of the situation.

Lost in your painting, you shifted close to him. Far too close to him. Like closer than appropriate. Oh, you get the breathing thing now, you are on the same ground.

If you were to lean in just a bit, your nose would brush his.

The paintbrush falls off your hand.

You gulp. Eyes flickering between his.

Then something happens. Something magical, like a spell cast.

In a languid manner, he lifts his hand and covers yours—the one holding his jaw—in a grip similar to yours.

Eyes locking with you, holding captive, he makes your hands slide from the corner of his jaw towards his opposite cheekbone. Smearing the pale flesh in the shade of vermilion.

Your breathing quivers. Heart stuttering.

He lets go of your hand.

And said hand, seemingly on its own accord, trails down in a slow move—from cheekbone to jaw before stopping near his carotid artery. The pulse flutters against the tips of your fingers.

He lets out a shaky exhale. His eyes scan your face. You wonder, if they leave stains of blue in their wake. Imprinting you in a way unseen.

Your gaze peers into his. And you find yourself losing touch with everything, as though the world has gone blurry, and it's raining down upon the two of you.

You are lost. Lost in the sun dipping in the ocean of his eyes. Lost in shades of crimson. Lost in this honey glazed moment. Lost. Lost. Lost.

Blinking through hooded eyes, you watch him lean into your left, cheeks a breath away from touching.

"What are you doing?" you hush. Too afraid to speak louder, lest the noise disturbs the tranquility of stillness.

He presses his cheek against yours ever so slightly, the presence akin to a feather's touch. Yet, you feel the paint, from him to you, it seeps through your skin into your bloodstream and sings.

"Painting you," he whispers, voice strained as though the words escaping without his permission, leaning back—cheek against cheek, tendrils of warm crimson.—he spills the color from his being to yours, "in my color."

The words inject euphoria in your heart. It beats wildly inside the cage of your ribs, wishing for nothing more than to break free and surrender itself to him.

This is what you were craving, you realize. The ache dissolves. His confession. His admission.

With him, you wanted the colors of your essence to merge. Mixing the shades until one couldn't recognize him from you, and you from him.

Perhaps, you didn't want to paint him so much as be painted in him.

..................................................................................

A/N :

This feels so unpolished but I'm so tired that I cannot edit and stuff. So, sorry about that. Maybe I'll edit it later.

Out of context gif because using Five's gif felt wrong.

It's not even something like that or anything yet it feels like it. I went through the motions of, should I post it or not. But considering any review helps me improve my writing, I decided to post. Damn maybe I'll delete it later 😭

Still hope you guys like it.

Thankyou! ❤