#either way i hope u still enjoy this lil scribble that gets a lil sappy at the end

[inkykeiji]

bro, imagine a scenario of Prof! Keigo getting jealous when reader becomes invested and attentive to other professors. ofc the ohso innocent reader didn't mean to make him so jealous (or did they?).

Keigo just hates how he can't control his emotions and how he could be manipulated by reader who spares him only the smallest amount of attention. I'd love to see the scumbag and arrogant professor get a taste of his own medicine. 😈

I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS I AM SO IN LOVE WITH THIS AAAAAH and don’t you worry anon, in the dark academia fic you WILL see prof keigo get quite a hefty dose of his own medicine hehehehe 🙊 not with other profs tho so!! i wrote u something small that, tbh, kinda veers off into angst and away from your prompt, because i feel like all i write lately is prof keigo being super mean and punishing and wanted to explore him being a lil more vulnerable <3 i hope u still enjoy it tho, and i hope you really really enjoy the main series when it comes out!! <333

tw: student professor relationship, jealousy, lil bit of angst, lil bit of sap | words: 608

It’s stupid—he knows it’s stupid, knows he’s being a fucking idiot, knows none of it is true; mere fabrications whispered to him by jealousy, crawling through his brain. It’s stupid, but he can’t seem to help it, unable to keep himself from snapping and snarking at you, responding to your genuine questions with sarcasm and regarding you with skepticism when you answer his.

At first, you don’t know what the heck his problem is, why he’s acting so rude, so suspicious, hawk-like eyes observing you carefully, scrutinizing your features as he hunts for lies and falsities.

It’s only when he seethes out an answer to another of your sincere questions, one warm winter afternoon in his office, asking if you’re fucking stupid and conjuring a thin film of tears to shield your eyes and a sharp gasp to claw its way up your throat, looking as though he had physically slapped you, that he realizes just how awful he’s been, something cracking and piercing in his chest with each of your quiet little sniffles.

Because, really, it isn’t your fault. He knows this, too, tries in vain to remind himself of it, but it’s hard when memories—phantom echoes of other professors’ voices—float around his brain in a dense haze, talking about your talent as a scholar, your sweet nature, your surprising intellect and tenacity, voices drenched in pure adoration. It’s not as if they were being inappropriate when they spoke these compliments, either, true and honest in all of their comments, authentic admiration sown into their tones when they discussed how much of a joy it is to have you in a class, what a treat it is to have you visit office hours armed with intriguing questions that challenge their notions and force them to defend their positions, what a privilege it is to teach a student like you.

And he knows they just appreciate you, knows they only respect you as an academic, knows you aren’t fucking any other professors—yet he’s powerless to curb the spikes of envy that tear through his chest at the thoughts, incapable of quieting the wispy ghosts of these sentiments that morph from honour and esteem to horny and erotic as they swirl around in his skull.

Heat seeps into his cheeks as he apologizes in a mumble, as he tells you what’s actually bothering him, eyes fixated on the pen he’s twirling between his fingers, unable to meet your gaze. He half expects you to laugh, because he knows he’s the one being absurd; half expects you to get angry, upset, offended at such a thought—an accusation, almost; a crude misinterpretation of your character—instinctively wincing as the last of his explanation tumbles from his lips, anticipating your reaction.

But you surprise him, just like you always do, with a soft sigh and a gentle grin, climbing into his lap to cuddle against his chest and nuzzle into his neck, fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck as you reassure him that he’s cute, but don’t worry, you’re fine and it’s nice to see him show some natural human insecurity—to know he’s not actually a robot and it’s okay to ask for reassurance sometimes, y’know.

The words ease the tension that’s been building in his chest, heavy and suffocating, and for the first time in weeks, he feels like he can breathe again, body oozing into your touch, more and more and more with each tender affirmation whispered into his flesh and every sweet kiss pressed to his skin and, God, he thinks he might be in love with you.

#THAT'S ALL I CAN SAY BUT OOOOOH DON'T U WORRY EHEHEHEHEHE >:) #either way i hope u still enjoy this lil scribble that gets a lil sappy at the end #sorry it kinda like #strays a lil from your og prompt #but yes!!!!!! i think u will like the main series fics :) ehehe #tw student professor #tw toxic relationships #takami keigo x reader #hawks x reader #HAVE AN AWESOME WEEKEND PLS ANON BB <33333 #sending u so much love n health!!!! please be safe!!! #inky.bb #clari gets mail #inky.darkacademia