#tw: teacher student

[madammidnightsblog]

More Yandere student x teacher darling

Yan! Student was pouting whenever you lectured him for daydreaming in your class, but he couldn't help it. You looked so pretty in everything you wore, and he couldn't stop his mind from wandering at the thought of what they would feel like on his skin. He wasn't into crossdressing at all but the thought of wearing your clothes made his heart flutter and thinking of you calling him pretty in them made his pants tight. His mind was plagued with those thoughts and lost him in the daydream that you noticed his dazed expression which caused you to sigh. He did those often to the point his grades were slipping so you called him to stay after class.

"What is more important in that little head of yours than learning about history?" I questioned as you folded your arms over your chest, staring down at him with disappointment.

Yan! Student felt like his heart was going to break from seeing you upset with him, but something about you staring down at him made his pants grow tighter. It was so arousing of you make him aware of how small he was compared to you and he wanted you to make him feel smaller in any and all ways.

"um.. I was thinking about home.." He puts on a faux pout and stares up at you sadly, watching how your expression softens and you drop your arms to your side.

Your right hand came out to gently pat his shoulder, bending slightly to be eye level with the teen, "I'm so sorry, sweetie." your lips formed a small frown.

He felt like he was about to cum from the pet name. He was really trying to hold back from any noise that may come out as your hand gently rubbed his tensed shoulder, whispering sweet words in hope to make him feel better but little did you know it only made his cock twitch in his pants. The sweet scent of cinnamon perfume of yours had him drunk and shaking and with you being so close to the point he can see the lining of your bra under your turtleneck made his him dizzy. Poor boy didn't know what to do but stand there and dumbly nod to whatever you said before dismissing him which pulled him back to reality. Yan! Student scowled as he slowly walked out your classroom after you telling him he had to get to his next class. He promised himself to get as much trouble with you just to get that close again, wanting you to be so close to him as much as possible.

(should i name yan! student?)

#x dom reader #sub character #yandere x you #sub yandere #teacher darling #yandere student #tw yandere #delusional yandere #manipulative

[suiana]

✎ yandere! school headcanons . . .

✎ warnings . . .

― obsessiveness, stalking, possessiveness, mentions of murder, manipulation etc.

(gn! reader x yandere! ocs)

✎ yandere! school where everyone is obsessed and in love with their lovely little english teacher, you.

✎ yandere! students who listen attentively in your class. doing their homework, answering questions and just overall being good students! they'd do anything to make their favourite teacher happy :) fyi they don't do any of these in other classes.

✎ yandere! history teacher who loves talking to you about history! he's so energetic, so sweet :) he also likes talking about his past and how he wishes to make history with you. but you're a little dense and don't see his flirts. it's okay! you'll cave one way or another :)

✎ yandere! math teacher who's cold and stoic to everyone but you. giving you heartfelt smiles, little trinkets (that are very expensive), and lots of red roses! anyone can see that he's courting you, except for you of course. he's a little bit annoyed at your denseness but finds it attractive nontheless.

✎ yandere! school counselor who's there for you when your date dumps you. oh dear! what an asshole he is! don't worry, she's there for you :) after a change of clothes, some hydrogen peroxide and some burying, she's there 24/7 for you!

✎ yandere! school nurse who patches up your wounds and injuries lovingly. how'd you even get these anyways? the small pout and light blush on his cheeks whenever he patches you up always remind you of a small puppy! after patching you up, he thanks the people he hired to hurt you lightly with a wad of cash for the opportunity to be so close to you.

✎ yandere! principal who's an attractive middle aged woman of tall stature. she always gives you a bonus and treats you so kindly! you are ever so thankful for her and the amazing job she allowed you to have :) as if she didn't have her sights on you since day 1.

✎ yandere! security guard who swears he does this for your safety! it's not stalking if he's doing it to keep you safe :( following you around after school hours, scaring away pests that approach you... you see?! he's only doing this to protect you!

✎ yandere! pe teacher who you find kind of weird with how deeply he breathes around you and how his face always flushes pink at the mere mention of your name. and why are his knuckles always bruised? you know he works out a lot but still... it's cause he's always fighting creeps who want your attention silly!!

✎ yandere! school who loves and cares for you in their own little ways. you're their precious darling after all.

#tw yandere #yandere #yandere x reader #yanderes x gn reader #yandere school x reader #yandere school headcanons #yandere school #yandere teachers #yandere principal #yandere nurse #yandere security guard #yandere counselor #yandere students #yandere math teacher #yandere oc #yandere history teacher #yandere oc x reader

[missbunnybunny]

-`💌 『 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙥𝙚𝙩』🖊️´-

『-` 𝙴𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚒𝚝: 𝚈𝚞𝚙! 𝙼𝙳𝙸. +𝟷𝟾´-

✙Not proofread, no spell check, I just wrote. 𝙻𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚜! 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚒 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜? ✙』

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You walked down the long hallways of the school. It was after-school hours, and you had to meet with your homeroom teacher. Walking up to the door of your classroom, you opened it. He was still not there. You decided to await by the chair next to his table until he arrived. You don't remember how long you waited until your eyes became too heavy to keep open.

The room was warm, typical of summer weather. He looked down at his watch and noticed the time he stood up from his spot in the office and began making his way to his homeroom. His head is lowered as he opens the door, closing it behind him. He looks around for you. He finally spots you sitting at a corner next to his desk.

He walks over to you, noticing the way your chest rose and fell. Your white uniform shirt is sticking your chest, from sweat build up. Your lips are parted, and he can't help but think you look cute. You were always his favorite student, the way your cute face would scrunch up and you bit your pencil when you get stuck on a question. He always purposely gives you the easy quizzes and look at your cute bra.

You shifted slightly in your chair, a groan leaving your parted lips, and he felt the twitch in his pants. He untied his tie, feeling his body heat up. God, you were tempting him. He knew you needed help with an upcoming exam, so why not give you some extra lessons...

Your eyes groggly blinked open as you felt hands roaming over your body. You raised a hand to rub your eye, groaning a little. You looked around before looking to your side. His sitting at his table writing something down. "Ah, am sorry, profesor. I must have fallen asleep." He puts his pen down. "Mm, it's nothing. Really." He spoke, looking at you. Your legs unconsciously rub against each other, and you can't tell if it's the weather or his stare that makes you feel hot and bothered all over.

"Here are the papers for you to study." He motions to the papers on his table. You stand up from your seat-your skirt is scrunched up a little - his eyes follow your movement as you walk over to him. You bend over to take a look at the papers. He can see your bra through the opening of your shirt, you really are a slut flashing your teacher like that. Your skirt is showing your underwear such a pretty color, the bulge in his pants twitches. You're still distracted, looking at the papers as his hand slowly begins to rise under your skirt.

You begin to stand up straight, holding the papers just to feel a hand squeeze your ass. You squil in surprise, dropping the papers, and you turn to look at your teacher. His body is turned to you. There could be no way his hand couldn't touch you. Your mind was swirling. Where you such a pervert to be daydreaming that your teacher was touching you.

You kneel as you began to pick up the papers, your really a whore for his attention aren't you. Letting your skirt show your panties, with an obvious wet spot. You're looking around, seemingly looking for the last paper. It's under his foot, but he slides it to under the table. A small piece of it sticking from under it, you will have no choice but to bend and grab it.

You stand up and walk over to your teacher, " Sorry, I lost the last one..." Your words become quieter as you spot the last paper. Your body bends down when you feel a hand squeeze your chest. You let out a whimper at the feeling. His big hand begins pawing at your moun. His other hand squeezes your ass as he pulls you to sit on his lap. You're squirming at the feeling of his hands pulling your shirt and bra down in one swift motion.

He begins pinching and pulling your nipples making you arch your back, head falling on his should. " Good girl." You hear him praise over your moans. You can feel the warmth of his erection on your ass. His right hand goes under your skirt where he begins rubbing his fingers over your clothed cunt. Your moaning loudly, like the slut you are enjoying your teacher assaulting you.

The stimulation of his finger rubbing your core and him pinching your nipples soon has you Cumming, squirting over his finger with a porngrafic moan. He kisses you, silencing your moans as your body twitches and tembles. Pussy clenching on nothing, eyes rolled into your skull. He lifts his finger, watching as your slick drips and connects his digest together.

His hand holds your body in place as he frees his aching dick. It smacks against your ass. He gives himself a few pumps, your slick and his pre cum mixing into one. He slides your panties to the side as he alines himself over your soaking wet pussy. His tip rubs over your slit before he thrusts into your tight little hole, stretching you deliciously and hiting every sweet spot and curve inside you. You moan at the feeling, and you hear him grunt in your ear, " Sucking my dick like the whore you are, good girl." His words makes your walls tighten and pulse around him.

As your moans become harder to control as he begins to move, he bends your body over the table. Your upper half resting on the table for support as it squicks, he holds your waist with a tight grip. As he slams your hips onto his dick over and over, the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard echoing over the empty room. You feel the coil in your stomach tightened as he abuses your g-spot. His tip hit your womb, making you thrust forward. Open mouth moan, that made your eyes roll and your tongue stick out. White sparks crossing your vision, " You like that, don't you- slap- you slut." He commented, your walls twitched and tightened at his words.

He gave you another slap, and you're ass stung, along with a hard thrust that broke you completely. Your walls spasm around his dick as your body twitches and tembles. "C-cummin-" you moaned out, Your walls were tight around him as he continued to thrust into your over sensitive cunt. With a few more hard thrusts his tip pushed against your womb, releasing ropes after ropes of his hot thigh cum.

He pulled out of your cunt, with a sign. He watched as your body twitched and tembled, babbling to yourself. His cum begain to trickle down your cunt to your inner thight and finally to the floor, as your wobbling legs failed to keep you upand you began to slip to the floor. His muscular arm held you, the tsked at you. " Don't spill my seed, my cute little slut." He spoke while scooping the cum falling from your cunt and pushing it back with is thight finger into you. You moaned at the feeling. You were so full. He pulled and fixed your underwear.

The bell rang, signaling the end of office hours, your face was flushed, and your clothes were a mess. With tembling fingers, you fixed yourself up, taking the papers he had on the table. He put his hand on your lower back as he walked you to the door. He lowered himself to your ear. " Come early tomorrow, and I might give you the answers for the exam." He spoke. He watched with glee as you nodded.

He opened the door for you, and as you walked out the door, he gave you a firm smack in the ass " I enjoyed our little study session." You didn't have to turn around to see the smile on his face. You weren't his student anymore, but his slut. His own personal fleshlight, his cute personal fuck toy that he could mold as he so please.

Gojo, Toji, Choso, Sukuna, Geto, Nanami, Naoya.

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©𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢! 𝙽𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚐𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝. 𝙴𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎. - 𝙱𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢🩻!

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#smut fanfiction #smutty smut smut #dark content #tw noncon #teacher x student #jjk toji #jjk choso #jjk gojo #jjk nanami #jjk geto #jjk naoya #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #sukuna smut #toji smut #nanami smut #choso smut #geto smut #naoya smut #like or reblog #tw.public sex #tw unprotected sex #tw.breeding #cw noncon #tw.dark content #tw.breeding kink #smutty #jujustu kaisen

[system-of-avalon]

(gn! pronouns for reader. student/teacher romance implied, but not official. satoru being sleepy. mostly fluff. angst if you squint. satoru being a lightweight with alcohol asfasdsa silly baby. satoru slowly falling for reader graahh)

Satoru knew from the moment he saw you how special you were.

Not because you were particularly strong, or had a super complicated technique, or had a particularly jarring past and circumstances that made you this way.

Many great minds have said that, to survive and to thrive in a world of sorcerers, you have to be selfish and self-centered.

It's like you entirely missed that memo, though.

You cared so much.

You cared so much Satoru even wondered how much you cared about yourself. You were always working hard, and protecting your teammates harder. You always wanted to be strong and show everyone they mattered. You lived everyday thinking on how to make this bleak world a tiny bit better, he guessed.

Satoru knew, from that moment on, that he had to have an eye on you constantly.

See, people don't give him credit for his people-reading skills. They think he is so full of himself, so used to seeing everyone from above, that he's uncapable of truly feeling attachment, or respect, or appreciation.

And sure, he is an ass sometimes. He enjoys, or straight up doesn't care, when he's being rude or annoying or disrespectful. Try as others might, that is a part of Satoru that would remain forever young.

But, in a month or so, he had you figured out. He had you figured out good.

Satoru had dealt with your type before, very closely after all.

He knew you little tics when you were lying. He knew how you looked when you were exhausted. He knew when you were putting your own health and well-being for later for the people you loved, he knew how you looked when you bottled your feelings too much. He was your teacher, after all, and he'd rather die than see the consequences of your own sadness spitting you on the face.

―You can tell me anything, you know?― Satoru spoke softly, reassuringly, in a deeper, more mature tone devoid of his usual mocking; though his usual teasing grin didn't disappear from his face. A hand ruffled your hair in fraternity before he stood up, stretching long legs with a quiet grunt. ―I'm your reliable, strong teacher Satoru Gojo, I can handle my favorite student's problems when they have one!―

He wasn't lying. Inadvertently, you had become his favorite.

If he went abroad, he would bring you the best souvenir out of all his students'. If he didn't bring the others any, he'd sneak some foreign sweets when you two were alone and share them with you, cackling as he made you promise not to tell anyone, "so his other students don't get jealous".

Speaking of being alone, that had, also, inadvertently become a thing.

Always the one to put effort until you couldn't physically fight anymore, you would approach Satoru with questions and seeking advice at least twice a week.

Also because of this, he had to be more present during your training and your missions to make sure you don't injure yourself from overworking.

―I want you to train, silly, but I don't want you to die on me while doing it!― He'd say, before sending you with a firm pat on the back to the showers, and to get a very well deserved rest in your bedroom.

He saw you grow. He saw you blossom into a capable, strong-willed, kind student. And sooner than later he found the stupidest reasons to be with you, just because he enjoyed your presence on its own.

When you went out to celebrate a successful mission, and Satoru offered to take you and the other students out to eat, he'd always sit beside you. He'd spend the night throwing jokes in your ear only you two would understand, talking about your shared interests and just having a good time in general.

Satoru was always one to enjoy the little pleasures in life, but when he was with you, he often forgot how easy it felt to just be himself.

Not the strongest man, not the Gojo clan's star child, not the future of sorcery. Just Satoru Gojo, and his silly love for Digimon and his extremely sensitive taste for alcohol.

―Oh c'mon~! I di'n't drink that much, f'real real...― Satoru rubbed the tip of his slender nose, which had become a slightly flushed, adorable baby pink from the wine he ordered at the restaurant. ―I'm a grown man, don't ya have more faith 'n me?―

He was scared. He was truly scared when he realized how comfortable he's grown around you.

Satoru was scared of loving anyone and anything because he couldn't stand to lose someone important to him again. But on top of that you were his student, for fuck's sake.

Sure he hadn't done anything inappropriate, or wanted to do anything inappropriate, but...

He couldn't deny how he'd melt when you laughed at his jokes a bit too hard. Or when you frowned and defended him, him, when someone bad-mouthed him.

You spoke nothing but praise about the man, as if you'd met him his entire life.

It seemed Satoru Gojo wasn't the only one with people-reading skills, and had spent quite some time looking into each other.

He remembers how one time, you failed to show up on time for your usual "extracurricular CE training sessions".

Satoru was exhausted from a few trips and missions and weeks of not sleeping more than a couple, sparse naps. Even he and his RCT had a limit, and despite not showing it, your teacher could get stressed out of his mind too.

He waited for you, for around ten minutes. Then decided to sit down for a bit, rest his legs and all that. Then, he crossed his arms over the desk. Then, lied his head down. Then, closed his eyes for a second.

Satoru was out cold before he himself could realize it.

Only to wake up with a blanket over his shoulders, a cup of mocha coffee still steaming, waiting for him; and you: Sitting on the back of the empty classroom, with the warm orange sunrays coming through the windows and lighting your silhouette in pretty colors, reading in silence.

And he remembers how you smiled as you looked up, and greeted him by saying his name in that sweet voice of yours, and just asked about his trip and scolded him for not giving you a call to say he was too tired for the lesson.

Satoru laughed it off then. But in reality, he was melting from the inside.

―Hah. I guess you're right. Though if you are going to take care of me this way, I might fall asleep in class more often,― the man laughed, peering at you from over his sunglasses with a tired smirk. ―Thank you for the coffee, by the way, angel~―

Satoru never felt comfortable sleeping around people. It was just that sort of habit that, despite knowing his CT will protect him even in his sleep, he couldn't break out of. Rarely did he shut his technique off these days since his teenager years.

You, as with many things, changed that for him.

Because you were such a sweetheart you couldn't trust him until you were sure he'd slept.

So when he was abroad, he'd call you before going to bed. If he didn't, you would assume he didn't plan to sleep, and you were allowed to call Satoru to chew his ear off until he did.

When he was at school, though, it was different.

He hated himself the first time you did it, but he hated himself more because he didn't do anything to stop you.

That one time you were lying down on the grass under the summer sun after a sparring session, and Satoru started to feel drowsy again.

You gently nudged him to lie his head on your lap, played with his hair, and God have mercy because he was a man gone.

―You're gonna get me in trouble―. Satoru's voice was no more than a quiet, raspy chuckle; something like the purr of a cat. He even kneaded the fabric of your blue uniform: Maybe to ground himself in the reality that this wasn't supposed to happen, maybe to force himself to like it less. ―Hmm... I didn't say stop, did I...?

He was so, so far gone...

🩷: My need to take care of Satoru just overwhelms me sometimes, my bbg I love him so bad sIR I LOVE HIM!!

🩷! EDIT: I'm most likely going to make this a series! Or at least put this all under one single plotline haha. Gotta think of an aesthetic name and probably an aesthetic of its own but I'll post about this dynamic often!

#with love - a 🩷 #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #teacher x student #tw teacher x student #satoru gojo headcanons #satoru gojo hcs #gojo headcanons #gojo hcs #a🩷 archive #long post

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was student teaching at an elementary school, and I tried to convince the antidrug assembly performers to make a movie musical.

#dream #student teacher #student #teaching #teacher #elementary school #drugs tw #movie #musical

[merakiui]

We love teacher!character/Teacher's Assistant!character x reader, so let's hear your thoughts on teacher!reader/TA!reader x student!character

(cw: yandere, slight nsfw, forced pregnancy/baby-trapping, pregnancy, stalking, one-sided teacher-student relationship)

Azul who knocks up his professor during one of the times he’s visiting for office hours. It’s something regarding a scholarship opportunity or maybe he’s talking to you about a career path he’s thinking of pursuing. Whatever the case, he’s so infatuated with you. He’s at the top of your class, always excelling in everything he does. He’s a model student, so intelligent and on top of his academics. He’s always bringing you coffee each morning. Some say it’s to get within your good graces. When you take the coffee from him, you think nothing of it. But then you’re losing the feeling in your limbs and you feel so sleepy and weak and so strangely insatiable… Azul smiles at you, asks, “Is everything all right, Professor?” You can’t even answer, but maybe you don’t have to when he’s unbuckling his belt, the door now shut and locked tight. He has you right where he wants you. :)

Or the twins tormenting you beyond the campus. You’ve always been so good to them, their cute, diligent professor. Floyd didn’t mean to scare you when he broke into your home late at night, and Jade only wishes to cook you a nice dinner. After all, they have to return the favor for when you brought them meals when they were “struggling” to get by (or so you thought; they’re liars, those eels…).

Riddle who’s taken to stalking his professor. He’s not sure what compels him to do it. He finds a certain intimacy in knowing you beyond the classroom. He’s bad at taking covert photos of you because his hands are always shaking, but even if he’s managed to get one clear photo of your face that’s all that matters. He looks up your professor profile on his university’s website and masturbates to the profile picture of you in professional wear and smiling so kindly. He’s down so bad. >_< he signs up for all of your classes even if they have nothing to do with his major.

Idia who’s hacked into your phone and laptop to watch you from the comfort of his room. He’s seen you at your most intimate, and he always makes sure to take plenty of video and audio recordings for his own enjoyment. He may or may not occasionally make lewd sketches of you just to fulfill his own fantasies. He might even look for hentai characters that remind him of you so he can pretend it’s you getting railed by tentacles or a monster-sized sex toy. If he catches you with a partner while stalking you, the illusion of fantasy shatters and he becomes quite upset. How dare you like someone else?

Silver is such a sweet, honest student, so it’s quite shocking to think he could ever harbor such an intense obsession. Even Silver doesn’t realize just how badly he loves you until he’s following you from a distance just to make sure you make it home safely. He does everything for the sake of your well-being, even if it falls under a rather dubious umbrella. Silver dreams of you often, and every time he wakes from such good dreams he’s disheartened to find it isn’t reality. Oh, how he wishes he could fuck you and fall asleep with his dick still inside you, keeping you plugged full of his cum… :( one day it’ll be a reality. Hopefully. Until then, he’ll watch you from afar.

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #tw: forced pregnancy #tw: pregnancy #n/sfw #tw: teacher student relationship

[undead-merman]

Day Twenty One: Teacher Telepathy

Eden and GN Pc

This idea was from @inkyquince's professor Eden. Yes, I wrote this for Inky and Necro

Contains student and teacher relations, thoughts of kidnapping, abuse and extortion of reader, stalking, adoption with the intent to lock you up and fuck you

Fucking coffee grinder broke right on his first day. Snapped right in his hands before he could even make a cup. Normally he’d fix it, but this one was a welcoming gift from Sirris, some electrical hunk of shit instead of an old school mechanical one like he prefers. He doesn’t know how to fix this fucking thing.  He’s not even sure what happened to the old one. So now he’s without coffee and a grinder for it. He’d have to stop by that little run down place right at the forest edge to pick up another.

He grabbed his ham and cheese lunch, wrapped in a brown paper bag, a bottle of filtered water, and house keys before heading out. The sun had yet to rise, leaving the shadows as thick as dark as the thoughts of people passing by.

All of them, fucking disgusting.

Each one echoed in his head like a chamber. Disturbed and deprived thoughts from everyone, though a few thoughts resonate fear when he walked by. Fearing his face, his build, his walk, or even his scars. Some even … Lusted after him, thoughts they believed to be private were loud about what they’d do to him.

It just made his mood worse.

When he got to school and managed to get some coffee from there, it was watery, tasted like trash and some kind of cleaning chemical. He dumped it after the first drink and decided to opt for his water to settle him over as he sat in his room and looked over each class roster. Nothing special, not surprised.

So before everyone filed into his workshop, he took the time to start whittling and enjoy the rare silence.

-

The classes were as loud as he expected. Not just out loud, he could quiet them down in a second, but their thoughts were all over. It gave him a migraine instantly.

Some of them thought this class meat they could fuck around, either with each other or. He made sure to nip that idea right in the bud. It was a hassle just dealing with everyone. Though there was you. You minded your own business, you were particularly cute, not rowdy/ but one thing that stuck out was how calm your thoughts were. They weren’t as foul as the others in town. Sure you weren’t focused entirely on the task assigned but the thoughts about the dog you saw at the orphanage made him smile to himself.

His eyes hardly left you. He studied every part of you. The way you carried yourself, talked to your peers. He didn’t even realize till the end of class that he’d been completely enraptured by you. Even by the end of the school day, his thoughts lingered on you. Even when he got home and took a shower,

he found his thoughts lingering on you still.

Looking down, he saw his cock twitching to life, the dark head began to swell and leak. He ran a hand from his stomach down to his mess of pubes as he thought about your face. The heat of arousal just builds as he adds more kindling to it. Thinking about if you were a virgin or not. You seemed like it. His hand grabs his dick and began pumping.

How tight would you be around him? Were you a quiet moaner or a screamer? You seem like the type to like it rough, and he could provide that. Ram into your hole and until you see stars.

He spills on his hand, and he takes a moment to look at what he’s done. There's shame, though not as much as he’d thought there’d be. His contentedness outweighs anything else. He could do this again and have no problems with the fact that you are his student.

-

It’s been a few weeks now, he’s gotten used to the schedule, he knows almost everyone’s names now, even if he didn't really did not care for most of his students.

But you, he likes you. He keeps an eye on you in class. Watching you as you work and being one of the rare student’s he comes up to help instead of telling them to pay more attention in class before kicking them off the machines for the day. He would have been fine with simply having perverted thoughts about you and jerking off in the shower every night. He really would have, but you saw one of his whittled pieces and smiled looking over it.

Those soft hands of yours gliding over the carved out wolf, your head filled with nothing but genuine awe. Shit, he wanted to ruin you now. You were too docile and sweet for this damn town. He built a cage under his bed for you. It was a spur of them moment thing on a weekend after Sirris dragged him along for drinks. He hated drinking, he wasn’t even sure why he agreed. But the buzz in his stomach and head had him trying to busy his hands and lead to a half finished cage. And when he woke up to see it, he made sure to finish it. The idea of you under there had him just staring, picturing you inside, as he stroked his cock a bit harder this time around than normal. Grumbling when he realized his cum flew and he had to clean the bars.

He’d made his coffee for the day, sat at his seat waiting for the morning to start when he heard a knocking on the door. He frowned, sat up from the chair and swung it open, expecting some snotting idiot to ask him for an extension on a project. No, it was you. Project in hand.

You sat in with him making small talk that he strangely found himself enjoying as he gazed at your project. You did well. Surprisingly so, most students just turn it in for a grade with stuff he’s seen a dozen times before, but you added your own flair and seemed to work hard on it.

You’d be good as a house spouse. Fixing his clothes, taking time to sew up that rip in his nice cable knit sweater. He let one question out, just to test the waters and masking it as concern for you. You answered and seemed happy he was asking something more personal than just to put your name and date on your paper. He asked more, and before he knew it, his watch went off, five minutes before the first bell. You gave him a smile and a wave.

‘Mr. Eden looks handsome today.’

His heart went into his throat as you went out the door. He locked the door and fucked his fist. Cumming all over his hand with two minutes still left.

-

You came into his room more frequently. He could hear your thoughts. You found him safe, even nice. He couldn’t have been farther from those things. In fact, he was the most dangerous thing to you at this school. But he loved that. He loved how safe and secure you felt when he simply was just in the room with you. Would you feel the same way he sat you on his lap during class? Skull fucked you while there was a test going on?

“Mr. Eden are you married?”

He could be. He’d marry you. Not only that, but he’d take excellent care of you. Make sure you never felt lonely, the bed was always warm, He’d even make dinners for you if you made breakfast and coffee. He answers. No. he doesn’t elaborate. And you were content with that, just the way he likes it.

Though your fist catches his eye. Bruised, just ever so slightly, probably even covered up with some kind of make up. He studied you more as you looked at his news carving. Just under your school shirt right at the neck, rubbed off by the collar, was a bruise, one from a rope. He shouldn’t be surprised. You lived at the orphanage. He’d heard about your debt, he was acquainted with Bailey, after all.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d give Bailey a call about you?

-

Sure enough, he was right. He’d been getting you to pay over four thousand a week for the past few months. Figures. Bailey asked if he was interested in you, already sniffing out the reason. He didn’t fully respond, though that was because he didn’t have to.

“The brat hasn’t been able to make their payments. Probably won’t even have this week's either.”

Bailey still owed him that favor… He mentioned it, and he heard a very rare laugh come from him.

“You want them?”

That alone caused him to rub the front of his legs, feeling his trousers becoming tight.

-

It was faster than he expected. Bailey made a comment he was getting soft when he requested it look like an adoption, even though he didn’t actually care about signing it. It just had to look that way to you.

When you had gotten the news, you’d busted into his room blabbering and pulling him into a hug with big wet eyes. Your thoughts were loud today, like new year's celebrations. It was cute, he found himself petting your head and when you calmed down he could hear the thoughts you were trying to push out of your own mind.

‘He’s going to be my dad now… I shouldn’t think about that kind of stuff.’

He’d never dug into thoughts. Not like this. He chased after what you tried to bury. Fantasies about you and him. Not as filthy as what he had in mind, but the fact you saw him in that light had him clenching his hand so hard his nails were digging into his callouses. What was stopping him from pushing you onto the desk and fucking you, just like you both wanted? Tying you up and dragging you home to lock under his bed until you couldn’t do anything but drool over his cock and beg for him to claim you as his own.

He moved closer. Slowly dragging his hand-over your knee and working over your thigh. He could hear you, even though you weren’t talking. He adored the little conflict running through your mind. Even more so with the fact you didn’t move away. Your mind ran a muck, and he kept pushing. You didn’t stop him. Eternally, you were hoping for more. And he gave it to you. Large hands pushing into your underwear to grope you. His middle finger rubbing against your hole.

Soon enough you were in his lap, his fingers inside you, sloppy and wet. The sounds of your hole being abused, and your heavy breathing were loud in his empty classroom. Your fingers digging into the flesh of his arm as he watched you like a predator. You were just as tight as he hopped, if not more so.

Your toes and legs curled as you came from his hand alone. You were gasping for breath. He simply unfastened his buttons and pulled down his zipper. Slowly pulling out his fingers before pulling another confiscated packet of lube out and squeezed it onto his cock.

And he was going to have you all to himself when he finally got you home too.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #eden the hunter #dol eden #tw: student teacher relations #tw: abuse mention #tw: kidnapping #tw: reader abuse

[rusa-dulgokrakaa]

I love older educated sweet man (him)

#male tc #tc community #tc confessions #tc blog #tc crush #teacher x student #teacher crush #crush on teacher #tc feelings #tc struggles #tc feels #tw vent

[actuallysaiyan]

Kinktober Day 19: Cockwarming(In my heart, I have but one desire...)

warnings/kinks: Student-teacher relationships, slight age gap, cockwarming, slight exhibitionism, slight blackmailing, smut word count: 0.7k pairings: Professor!Gohan x Student!Fem!Reader teaser: “Care to explain this?” He asks, waving the test in your face. Your bottom lip quivers a little, “I’m so sorry. I just… I had a hard time with the test material.” taglist: @beneathstarryskies @loki-love @witchofcustom. @dreadsuitsamus. @pyrofanatic. @butterflieskeepcominback

He watches you from his desk, a mean look on his face. You know you’re in a lot of trouble, but you really never expected it to get to this extent. You wring your hands nervously behind you as you wait for him to address you. You have to look away when his stern eyes lock with yours.

“Do you have any idea why I called you into my office, miss?” Gohan asks, finally looking down at his papers. 

You shake your head, “N-no…I don’t know why, professor Gohan.”

He smirks at you, but that’s quickly replaced with a very stern look on his face. He shows you your latest test and it’s not a good score at all. You were clearly much too distracted by something to be able to focus. And Gohan knows exactly what was distracting you.

“Care to explain this?” He asks, waving the test in your face.

Your bottom lip quivers a little, “I’m so sorry. I just… I had a hard time with the test material.”

A sarcastic laugh falls from his lips, “Is that so? I think I know exactly what the issue is.”

He gets up from his desk and he towers over you. You feel so trapped in here all of a sudden. You’re not really sure where this will lead, but you’re really hoping you won’t end up getting expelled. You truly wanted to finish your degree, but you had never expected one of your professors to be so sexy.

“I know I’m a distraction, miss. It’s written all over your face whenever you’re in my class.” Gohan explains, crossing his arms across his chest.

You frown, “Professor Gohan, sir…I didn’t mean it! I can make it up!”

He considers your words before grabbing onto your wrist and pulling you forward. You nearly crash right into his perfectly sculpted chest. You look into his eyes, a pleading look behind your own.

“If you’re so desperate to make up for it, I have some options for you.”

You nod your head, so eager to please your professor. You want to make sure he’s going to be taking you seriously and that he knows you want to finish up your degree. But when his proposition hits your ears, you’re taken aback.

“You can either stay behind in class every afternoon and help me grade these papers and learn a thing or two from your peers, or…you can sit on my cock while I grade them.”

You nearly faint from these words. He can’t be serious right now, can he? You look at him, red in the cheeks. He laughs at your reaction to his proposal. He knows you’re more than likely going to chicken out, but you shock him when you say you’ll sit on his cock.

And that’s how you ended up with his fat cock so deep inside of you as he grades the rest of the tests. Whenever you whine or try to move, he slaps your thigh harshly and reminds you that this is indeed a punishment and not a reward. You can’t help but grip against his cock, shuddering rhythmically as your cunt pulses. It’s much too good for you to consider it a true punishment.

Gohan, on the other hand, can’t believe you were so quick to agree to this. He knew you had a crush on him, but he didn’t think you’d be so willing to have this kind of relationship with him. He knows he’ll probably have you on his cock a lot more often than just the one time. Especially when he’s considering bumping up your grade if you continue this for the rest of the week. He can’t deny that having your tight, wet heat wrapped around his throbbing cock is just another benefit to him.

Once he’s done grading the papers, he holds you back against his chest and he begins to look for more work to do. Gohan realizes how much he feels motivated to finish up work with his cock buried deep inside a tight cunt.

“Remember,” He says as he nips at your neck. “If you’re a good girl and you come do this with me every afternoon for the rest of the week, I’ll bump your grade from a D to a B-,”

How could you refuse such a good offer?

#bacon.writes #Gohan x you #Gohan x reader #Gohan smut #son Gohan x you #son Gohan x reader #son Gohan smut #son Gohan x y/n #teacher student relationships #tw student teacher relationships #professor!Gohan x reader #dragon ball #dragon ball z #dragon ball x reader #dragon ball super #kinktober 2o23

[crrepiest]

Yandere! Teacher x Student

♡GN reader♡

Pt 2.5 lol

Tw: age gap, pervy behavior, obsessive behavior.

This is a time skip from the main story line, this isn't part 3, just a one off story for valentines day. I hope you lovelies enjoy <3

The chime of the convenience store door rings from behind me. The cool air from inside rushes towards my face, sending a chill down my spine. My eyes adjust to the fluorescent lights as they hum quietly in the background. A young man, barely in his 20s, stands behind the cash register. He doesn't seem to be particularly enjoying his job at the moment. I give him a pity smile as I make my way to the candy aisle. I couldn't blame the kid. Being stuck at your dead-end job at midnight and the most interesting thing being a grown man looking at candy, isn't the first place I would like to be either

  I internally scold myself for waiting so long to compile this Valentine’s gift for you. I wanted to give you more. A huge display of my love and affection is what you truly deserve. Albeit out of the realm of things I’d imagine myself ever doing, you bring out the romantic side in me. I initially wanted to get a gift weeks ago, but as February 14th crept closer and closer, nothing I came up with I deemed worthy enough for you, which led me here, trying to throw together a last-minute gift that was nowhere near my standards. I do hope you will understand, my love. 

I scan the shelves of sweet treats and set my eyes on (favorite candy). I swiftly pick up the packaged goody and make my way to the drink section. The cold air of the refrigerator nipped at my already cold hands as I grabbed some (favorite drink). I walk down the aisle, trying to search for a flower display. A small stand catches my eye. Thankfully, though, they had the ones I was looking for. I grab a small bundle of (favorite flowers) and make my way to the front counter. 

I send the young man a smile as he scans my items. “For the spouse, huh?” he says as he breaks the silence I was trying to maintain. My cheeks burned as I couldn't help the smile that crept onto my face. “I Uh…yeah.” he seemed to have noticed this but returned to scanning my items. “Your total sir is $15.48” I swiped my card and exchanged pleasantries with him. I grabbed the bag and spun on my heels, making my way out the door.

I shut the car door and place the shopping bag onto the passenger seat. I stick the keys into the ignition and the engine comes to life. Letting my head fall back onto the headrest, my breathing hitches when the thought of you comes to mind. A smile pulls to my lips as I put the car into drive and pull out of the small parking lot. My eyes rest on the empty passenger seat beside me. I envision you in place of the plastic bag. My heart flutters at the thought. My mind wanders—your smell, your smile, your laugh, the warmth that radiates from your presence alone engulfs me. Excitement fills me at the thought of your face when you receive my small sample of affection, in hopes it will keep my appetite satiated from the need to please you.   

I'm pulled away from my thoughts and back to my surroundings as the traffic light turns green. My neck cranes to the side. A twinge of pain runs through my heart when you aren't in my passenger seat, keeping me company, as I was so vividly seeing in my mind. Bright street lights zoom past the dark, tinted windows as I speed my way back home. 

༺༻

A huff escapes my lips as I sit in my brown leather office chair. I cross my arms as I stare out at the empty desks, my gaze landing on one. The measly gifts I bought last night rest on the small wooden table. A pit in my stomach begins to form as the sound of the ticking clock fills my quiet classroom.

I rub my sweaty palms on my pant legs and stand up from my chair. I pace back and forth at the front of the classroom as I recite what I'm going to say when you walk in. “I was thinking of you at the store and thought I’d get you something.” too forward, I scolded myself. “Yeah, I just had these things lying around.” who just has a bouquet lying around? I let out a frustrated grunt at my thinly veiled excuses. My heart stops when I hear footsteps approaching my door. 

I rush to my seat and try to look as if  I’m busy when I see a figure entering the room. Our eyes met. You beam a smile toward me. “Good morning Mr. Roth.” Simply the way you annunciate the words makes me go feral. I could only dream that the first thing I hear in the morning and the last thing I hear at night is my name falling from your delicate lips. Your eyes lock on to your desk and confusion decorates your face. “Where'd this come from?” you say, gesturing to the Valentine's gift.  

My mouth hangs slightly agape as I try to remember the lines I previously practiced. However, the words get stuck in my throat. “I uh …uh, they were there when I… got here.” I stumble over my half-assed lie. You give me a weary look, but don't press any further. “Hmm. I wonder who put it here,” you say as you stare a hole through the flowers. “Must be a secret admirer I guess” My eye twitched as the words fell from my mouth. The thought of someone even thinking about you in that manner made my blood boil. 

I see you blush a little at this. I curse myself for not just telling you I did it. I bought the Valentine's gift and I need you to know how much I love you. Then maybe you would be blushing at the thought of me, and not some hypothetical admirer. 

You pick up the bundle of flowers and put them up to your nose, taking in their sweet scent. I watch and admire as you do, wishing that I could take a photo to capture the memory. More students begin to flood into the classroom.

A few of your friends come up to you, full of questions as to where the items came from. I observe the interactions and whisper softly to myself, “I hope you like it, sweetheart.”

Haiii guys :3 I hope you enjoyed this, please feel free to give me any constructive criticism to improve my writing

Happy valentines day yall!! Im working on part 4 now so bare with me

I love every single one of you guys thank u for all the support <3

TAG LIST!

@darl1ngv1ca @rainnwolfenstein

@pneum4 @iwantsleepplz @bigstarshine @bl00dbag

#stalker kink #yandere drabble #yandere headcanons #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #oc #teacher x student #yandere x you #yandere #yandere oc #yancore #stalker #tw stalking #yandere scenarios

[madammidnightsblog]

Trying Something New.

yandere! student x teacher y/n

Yandere! Student thinks it just a cute puppy love kind of crush because what else could you really call it?

Yandere! Student never seems can keep his eyes to himself, letting them wander across your body as you stand in front of the classroom and wonders just how soft your skin must be under that pretty outfit

Yandere! Student gets jealous of the other students whenever he sees them talking to you and just wishes you'd just talk to him and explain everything on the homework even though he knew the answers

Yandere! Student catches himself falling for you deeper after you asked him to stay after class to help clean up, believing this was your way of confessing your love for him

Yandere! Student who finds himself having to take bathroom breaks halfway through your class to take care of himself because your voice and presence turns him on

Yandere! Student wanders how long it would take you to notice your favorite pen is missing as he uses it during class, scribbling down notes along with cute little love notes all over his notebook

Yandere! Student waits after school to walk with you in the parking lot, making the excuse that he just had some questions about your class when in reality he's just trying to remember your license plate number

Yandere! Student spends every lunch with you with the excuse of having no friends and just hates eating alone and how could you say no to him?

Yandere! Student just so happens to have the same favorite bake goods as you and buys enough for two to share with you during lunch

Yandere! Student spreads rumors about any of the male teachers that flirt, making them as horrible and mean as he can so you'd avoid them

Yandere! Student that goes out of his way to talk to you in anyway he can, even going as far as contacting you on your social media with lies of being mistreated by family after finding out you have a soft spot for children from broken homes

#sub character #x dom reader #sub yandere #yandere male #yandere x you #i love yandere x reader so wanted to try it out #yandere student #teacher darling #may possibly have more yandere content coming if this is well liked #tw yandere #delusional yandere

[dearestxiao]

the color blue: neon [part 2] | yandere xiao x reader, yandere venti x reader

synopsis: the days until you finally meet your penpal has been ticking by so quickly, but with a new tutor, a clingy roommate, and a professor who seems to only want the worst for you, it's hard to keep track of time. WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT, yandere characters, creepy xiao is creepy (lots of potentially uncomfortable thoughts from his perspective), heavily implied stalking, possessiveness, manipulation, dub-con touching, student-teacher dynamic, age gap (reader is 21+ and zhongli is 27+, feel free to adjust as need be). let me know if I need to add anything! reader is gender neutral.

wc: 10.7k

author notes: I wanted to first say thank you for the wait, and I hope that everybody is able to enjoy the changes and edits I’ve made to the story. I also wanted to say thank you to the mutuals who had helped me create the original version of the story. it has been a long time since then, and I’m not entirely sure if they’re still active (OTZ), so I’m not sure if they would still like to be tagged but I am forever grateful to them. this is the last exposition heavy chapter, as well as my last read edit/re-upload of a chapter, so the next few chapters will be much meatier with new content!!! again, thank you so much for the wait. love you all! as always, reblogs are very appreciated if enjoyed and if possible!

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏” ♡♡♡ [part 1]

dark content. minors do not interact. do not repost/link.

from xiao's room, there's a perfect view of the town a bit away from campus that greets him everytime he steps inside. it's a gorgeous sight, which is something he could admit, even though he didn’t choose the place himself, one anyone would be grateful for. the town is bright and bustling even still, and it’s only now starting to dim down. it’s getting late into the night, with flashy lights and beautiful architecture and homey buildings, and so many people, people, people.

there are still families on an outing, and cute couples going on dates. shop owners sweeping around their store. he can see as the everyday salaryman walks back home, accompanying the students on their own way home from classes; he can see so many lives being lived from his isolated little tower.

and yet, on nights like these, no matter how enchanting the view, xiao usually prefers to keep his blinds tightly shutー out of sight, out of mind. jealousy is a vile thing, isn't it? it's nasty, tainting your view of the world, of the things you love. after the first few weeks after xiao had moved in, the view quickly lost the charm it once had. because at the end of the day, to him, the view only serves as a cruel reminder of just how alone xiao is and always has been.

it dangles around a painful reminder of the things xiao can never have. it's so close, yet so far out of reach.

but despite his usual bitterness, xiao doesn’t bother closing the blinds tonight, because tonight, he has hope, hope that he could one day be like the many walks of life he sees everyday from his apartment window. hope that he’ll have something worth wondering about.

xiao sits himself on his bed, the second biggest source of comfort in his life right now. for some reason, he feels awfully nervous. he knows why, but he can’t help but wish that awful feeling away. for a split second, he can’t help but wish he was as confident and fearless as... no. he won’t think like that, not right now, at least. he shakes away the thought. butterflies jitter all up and around his stomach as his shaky hands picks up his phone and dials numbers, your numbers. the digits are already memorized by heart.

he tries to calm his nerves as he presses the phone up to his ear after hitting the call button, nails digging into the pajamas he changed into when he got home. he thickly swallows, waiting as patiently as he can, like usual.

ring. rinnng. rinnnnnggg. 

it doesn't take too long for you to pick up.

"hello?" he finally hears.

it's only one word (and a pretty basic one at that), but xiao can already hear the soft underlying shyness of your voice. his mouth naturally opens a little agape. you've always been nervous around those you weren't close to. your voice sends him into a state of bliss, so much so his brain is too foggy to reply until you coo out another hello, questioning if anyone is there on the other line due to the silence.

he almost has to force himself to speak "It's… xiao," he blinks, not even saying hello back, "from professor zhongli's class," xiao almost slips up by saying the name you know him much better by. “you… we spoke on the train. I don’t know if you remember,” he manages to stutter out.

you had seemed pretty out of it when you two talked earlier that very same day. you must’ve been so exhausted to have fallen asleep like that, right next to him. he’s still replaying the site of it over and over, the way you were struggling so hard to stay awake, head bobbing back and forth. it was probably embarrassing for you, but it was a pleasant sight for him. the soft puff of your cheeks and the furrow of your brows, the shallowness of your breath and how relaxed you looked. it made him feel like a creep, staring at you in that state, such an intimate state, a vulnerable state. 

it’s why he had held back as long as he could before finally tapping you awake, wanting to bask in the precious sight for longer.

he snaps back to finally finish his explanation, “…you gave me your number earlier today," he says it less as a reminder to you, but instead as a reminder to himself. he bites his lip, waiting for you to respond, wishing he could see what you looked like right now.

in the meantime, he remembers how your eyes had begrudgingly opened back up at the feeling of him touching you. he remembers the warmth of your body that felt like it could melt his finger tips from the heat. he wishes he could see and feel both much more often, but xiao is patient. lord, is he patient.

he remembers how embarrassed you looked as you sat up in your seat, trying to reorient yourself. “sorry, what did you say?” you finally had spoken after getting settled. you must’ve been too frazzled to hear him the first time. he cleared his throat before he repeated himself, this time a little louder, a little less shy than the first time around.

“I asked which stop you get off at.” you looked at him with eyes big with confusion. he hoped, desperately (he’s always so desperate), that he hadn’t made you feel anything negative.

he made sure to explain the question in hopes that it made you feel more comfortable and not as confused. “…I can wake you up before you get there, if you’d like.”

despite his wants, he needed to make sure you were safe, and were able to actually get home. if he didn’t ‘protect’ you, who would? definitely not that roommate of yours.

to his (would be short-lived) disappointment you had shaken your head. “no, it’s fine. I really shouldn’t have fallen asleep in the first place.” you had paused for a short second before saying, “thank you, though, xiao.” he doesn’t like to remember how he almost shivered at the sound of his name coming from your lips, nor how he had to turn his head as he nodded because he could feel heat creep up it. 

"oh, yes, xiao! sorry, I wasn't expecting you to call so soon. what can I do for you?"

“you asked on the train if I could tutor you. I wanted to set something up.”

it’s true, even if xiao can’t believe it himself. he knew this day would come, but didn’t expect it to be this soon. after several minutes of silence between you two, (or at least as silent as it could be on a train), you had turned to him, as if remembering something, getting his attention before you asked him something.

“sorry if this is coming out of nowhere. I was wondering if…” you took a breath, and xiao had almost sworn you were bordering scared as you finished your question. “I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me for zhonglis class? I don’t know if you’d be able to, but I spoke to him earlier today, and he recommended asking you for help.”

and of course he had said yes, to your surprise. he remembers thinking, silently, that maybe the universe was rewarding him for being so patient, and he had to keep his cool the best he could. 

now here he is, actually setting something up. “would tomorrow with you?”

"yes!," you let out a nervous little laugh at your uncontrollable excitement. xiao can just picture the smile you have on your face, all shy and awkward and cute. "that would work great, I think. I really wasn't expecting you to set something up so quickly. I'm grateful though."

xiao would make the tutoring session today during the dead of night if he could. of course he would set something up so quickly.

you don't need to know that, though.

xiao hums at your words. "we… we can have our first session at my place, if you're comfortable with that." he realizes he might be coming off too strong, so he adds, "but we can have it somewhere else too." he hopes you agree to the first suggestion though.

"t-that'd be great, yeah. whatever works for you, works for me."

"I'll text you the address and the time, then… and we can discuss more sessions or a schedule and stuff further.”

"that sounds good. thank you so much again." you repeat, and he can hear the relief in your voice. it should be him thanking you, really. 

"of course. goodnight."

“goodnight!” you repeat before you both hang up. a wave of bliss strikes his body.

but he isn’t going to sleep, not yet, atleast. Instead, he’s going to stay up all night, right in front of his window, thinking of all the possible lives he’s about to live.

he’ll make sure to thank zhongli for that in the morning.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

[name]: I don't think you understand how nervous I am right now

[name]: my hands are shaking and everything

alatus: why? is something wrong?

[name]: you know how I told you how I wasn't doing the greatest in one of my courses?

alatus: of course. did something happen?

[name]: the most intimidating guy I've ever met in my life is my tutor now

[name]: and I have no idea how this first session is gonna go

alatus: I think you’ll be fine. you shouldn’t worry yourself

alatus: you should let me know how everything goes.

ーーー☆

xiao's home is, to put it simply, unique.

you were left awestruck as soon as you stepped into the small but gorgeous studio apartment, shocked by both the feeling of jealousy creeping up your spine and the thought of how someone could possibly afford such an apartment, especially as a college student. no matter how xiao manages to afford his place, though, his home daunts over you. 

there's a large window that lines the wall his bed and desk are propped up against and you can't help but imagine just how xiao would look as he looked out of it and at the bustling city. the glass is frosted and wet from the pitter pattering rain that seems to persist in the cool weather of october. it's a little messy, books scattered about here and there and takeout bags littering the table, and the amount of lighting in this room seems to be as minimal (and as cold) as can be, but it's nothing too bad at all. nothing that you could complain about, at least. 

there's so many things inside his house, so many things your eyes are drawn to, like his big bookcase and comfy bed and his expensive computer setup, and yet it feels so... lonely. devoid of life, even. maybe it's the look of the gloomy black walls and the fact that the only lighting xiao has is a tall floor lamp and the light that comes through his window, but you've never seen such a full home feel so empty. no plants except for one little succulent that's looking worse for wear, no photos of friends or family, no bright colors, no pets to breathe life into the place, no companion to help make this house a home. nothing.

you're suddenly grateful you have such a lively roommate.

it's been a few minutes since xiao had let you in, greeting you in his comfy hoodie and baggy pants, hair put up into a messy bun, before attending to something on his computer (an important email you think, or at least something along those likes, something urgent), telling you to sit wherever you'd like and that he'll be with you shortly. you had nodded while leaving your shoes at the door, asking him if his bed would be a seat he's okay with you being on, garnering a hum in response from him.

"...I'll sit here then, since it'll be close to you and stuff," you murmur, admittedly a bit more nervous and unconfident sounding than you'd like. you plop yourself onto xiao's bed, placing your bag at your feet in front of the bed for easy access. xiao takes what's meant to be a quick glance at you, but he's unable to look away.

he knows it's creepy to say, especially when you're just sitting down so innocently, but the sight is better than what he's fantasized about. he's thought of you so many times in his bed, cuddling with him and running your hands through his hair and letting him press kisses into your face and collar bones. he's thought about waking you up with breakfast and how you'd smile and thank him even if he can't cook very well, but he's willing to learn a couple recipes for you. he's thought about laying there with you after a long day, letting you ramble as he listened like he does as alatus. he's thought about how he'd great you once he comes home like you probably do with venti, watching your form as he wait on his bed for him.

and, most of all, he's thought about the way you'd cry and sob and call him a monster once the day that you find out that his bed is now yours and that this apartment is now your home, trapped forever with him, finally comes.

one day you'll be here permanently, he's sure of it. baby steps first, though.

xiao doesn't realize that in the midst of his thinking, he's been absolutely staring you down, and considering that xiao has a naturally viscous (bitchy) looking resting face, you can't help but squirm under his gaze. "xiao? I can... move, if you'd like."

"no, I just..." he clears his throat before looking back at the work in front of him. "sorry, I zoned out for a second. you can stay there if it feels comfortable. whatever you want." the words come out as a sort of awkward, almost inaudible mumble.

is this supposed to be as awkward and tense feeling as it is?

you nod at his words, albeit a little hesitant, further settling into the soft plush of his bed. your brain is still convinced that he might want you to move, but you decide to just stay where you are. you reach down from your seat, pulling out everything you would need from your bag, waiting patiently for any instructions. the soft clicking of xiao's keyboard and the sound of rain hitting against the window fill the otherwise silent room, and honestly, given the atmosphere and the way xiao's room is so dark and cozy and how warm and inviting his bed is, you're tempted to fall asleep.

xiao's presence, though nerve-wracking, makes you feel at home. it feels familiar. you wouldn't mind falling asleep near him again.

but today's (sadly) not the day for resting. xiao finishes whatever he's working on, closing out of the tab and turning his chair to face your spot on the bed. he brushes a piece of his hair back and out of the way, uncovering the eyebrow piercing the bothersome piece had previously hid. his eyes look dead, tired dark circles laying underneath, and yet he still forces himself to speak, like a zombie who simply refuses to just give up and die.

"did you have anything specific in mind that you want to go over?"

you take a second to think, humming in response. zhongli never truly specified what you needed to brush up upon, only that the last few assignments weren't up to his standards, whatever that means. "I don't know. maybe everything from the last few weeks? I'm not so sure."

he too lets out a soft little hum as he thinks for a moment. he's never tutored before, and he's pretty sure he doesn't even have the qualifications to actually be of any sort of help. he makes it up as he goes.

“on the back of your textbook, there's a study guide that covers all the chapters inside." he gently motions for you to give him the book sitting on your lap, flipping to the page before handing it back to you. "I want you to do the questions of the study guide that cover the chapters we've already read in class. then I'll... assess you from there, and we can come up with a plan.”

it seems like a lot of work, and that's because it is. the longer you spend here (the more he can milk this session for everything it's worth), the better.

you nod, moving to get to work immediately, putting your full effort into the task at hand. you both work silently, xiao clicking at his keys alongside the noise of you flipping through the pages of your textbook and jotting answers down. the noises compliment one another well, creating a lingering sense of peace and calm in the air. you find yourself getting stuck on one or two of the questions, but… surprisingly breezing through the rest, and after a while of working, you gently speak his name, alerting him that you've finished. he’s quick to take your work, starting his inspection of it. 

your hands can’t help but get a little clammy as you watch as he reads through your answers, analyzing each and every single written word. in the meantime, you’re doing a little analysis of your own, trying to distract your mind from feeling any more nervous than you realistically should. 

your eyes flick from his messy hair, to the beauty mark almost right in the middle of his forehead, then to the soft dusting of red eyeshadow under his eyes. you look at how he runs a finger against the words on the page, too, almost subconsciously, and though you can’t really tell from this angle what he’s doing, you think he’s more so tracing the letters you’ve written than using it as a means to follow along. he almost looks entranced. you don’t know what to expect from xiao, can’t even guess what he’s thinking, and the furrowed eyebrows on his face definitely don’t make you feel any better. 

you sit there, idley, awkwardly, fidgeting for what seemed like more than just a few minutes, before xiao finally speaks up. 

you can barely hear him as he speaks, his words hushed and muffled. "you... need a lot of brushing up on the content, and your answers… lack good explanations and reasoning." he hands you back your work, sending you an almost sympathetic look. "I can see why zhongli believes you need help,” he adds.

it's a lie, of course, but you don't need to know that, not when zhongli had so delicately laid down the groundwork for all of this to happen in the first place. most of your answers were just fine as is, at least from what he lightly skimmed through.

still, he can't help but feel guilty when that look of embarrassment washes over your face.

for some reason you feel yourself get overwhelmed with emotion. you thought that maybe, just maybe, zhongli was simply just messing with you, as was notorious with the man and his teaching methods. but there's a stark sense of embarrassment that comes from xiao reaffirming what zhongli had said, an embarrassment so strong it sends your entire body ablaze with heat. 

you can't help but awkwardly shift in your seat as you nod along to his words despite the way your head almost feels too heavy to lift, avoiding eye contact lest he sees you so embarrassed over something so... silly, a miniscule problem at best, something fixable with a bit of elbow grease and time, and yet it means way more than it should to you.

you've worked so hard in this class already. why aren't you improving?

he doesn’t let you really catch your breath before he speaks again. "I think we'll need a couple more sessions than we discussed earlier," he mumbles, again, as though too ashamed to speak up, flipping through his own textbook, face in his hand as he thinks. "I want to make sure we can get as much content covered as possible before the end of the semester and catch you back up, since you seem to be..." xiao takes a quick glance at you, and for a moment, just a split second, he sees you, sees inside of you, sees every little thing you've been keeping bottled up, your fear. he looks away, breath hitching out of complete and utter guilt. he forces himself to continue though.

"...behind," he finishes, the single word said notably softer than the rest of the sentence.

xiao forces himself to swallow down his guilt. truly, he feels terrible about lying about this, because you clearly seem to be doing just fine on you own and lord knows how much stress this entire ordeal is causing you, but what's the use of being presented and blessed by the gods themselves with such an amazing opportunity if his sinning hands can't take it out of greed? xiao hates it, but he's always been more of a taker than a giver, taking all he can from people and leaving nothing left of them.

the simple pure utter bliss at the thought of spending hours and hours with you, in his room, alone, intimately and in person instead of just being with you through a phone screen, extinguishes any guilt he could possibly feel.

you, on the other hand, do allow yourself to feel guilt, though it's a feeling that has much more innocent roots than what xiao feels. it's a feeling that pokes and stabs at you as you fumble for words to say. you're a much better person than xiao is in that regard. you can't help but to feel ashamed, ashamed that you were doing so terrible at a course that goes directly into your major that you would have to force xiaoー a man renowned for being a lonerー who surely would rather spend his free time by himself and not tutoring someone so out of your realm and element as you are.

maybe it's not too late after all to consider switching majors, you think.

"you seriously don't have to do that, I don't want to take more time from you than I'm already taking. honestly, I think I'm a bit of a lost cause at this point if I can't even do the simpler questions."

the truth is, not even xiao knows how scared you are. fear and dread soars through your body at the thought of ending up in the same spot you were in last year.

xiao lets out a sigh through his nose at your words, a noise that does nothing other than make you feel worse, especially when you can't read his emotions and tell what's going on in that labyrinth of a brain he has. maybe he's realized that you're not worth spending his time. maybe you really are a loss cause. maybe you really should change your major. maybe you should call it quits and drop out. maybe you should move countries, marry a rich doctor or a lawyer and spend the rest of your days as a glorified housespー

xiao doesn't let you finish your thoughts (plans), instead getting up from his chair slowly. "let's take a break." he says, and while you feel a break is a little undeserved after you haven't done much studying, you nod, thinking it might be best to just relax before jumping back into things. "taking things slowly is the better way to do things," you nod, although the words just barely register themselves in your head. you're surprisingly vulnerable with him.

"I'm... going to step out for a moment to get some air. I'll give you some time for yourself to think." you nod, giving him a small and meek thank you, genuinely so utterly grateful for all the time xiao has given you. you can't help yourself from bothering him just once more before he leaves, though.

"xiao?" you don't look up at him, eyes fixated on your answers and what must've been so wrong with them. you hear him hum, beckoning you to continue.

“do you think I'll be able to pass?”

"of course you will," he answers, and it's the first truth he's said all day.

"of course," he mumbles, this time lower, a reminder to himself of how you'd be completely fine on your own, and that he should never, ever take this opportunity for granted.

he makes a promise to himself that he won't.

----- NEW TEXT MESSAGE -----☆

zhongli: hello, [name]. xiao informed me earlier today that you two will be conducting your first study session today. I'm glad you spoke to him about tutoring like I had advised you to. how are things going?

[name]: it's going fine, he mostly just reaffirmed what you already told me though. but he's been really kind about it all, I'm grateful that he agreed to help me out.

zhongli: I see. I hope that he could give you a new perspective on things and aid you in your weak spots. xiao is an amazing student in his own right, and I'm sure that together, you two will make an amazing team. I'm glad you two are getting along.

zhongli: I'd like to give you a little heads up for a future assignment, but there will be a project upcoming where I'll be sure to partner you two up. I'm sure you two will impress me on what you come up with.

zhongli: I believe in you, [name], and I expect good things coming forward.

zhongli: I'm sure that xiao is grateful as well.

[name]: thank you.

[name]: I hope to meet your standards as best as I can.

-----☆

the apartment is even quieter than it was before without xiao.

it's lonely, too.

in a way, you used this little moment to yourself as a justification and way to figure out just what exactly is the enigma that is xiao. now that you're by yourself, you find yourself looking around at his walls, glancing over at one of the two of his cork boards that seems to have a bunch of what looks to be memorabilia of all sorts, stuff like old music concert tickets of local bands you've never heard of, polaroids with some familiar places and even some of his friends, post-it note scribbles of different tasks he has to get done, among other things.

you visualize yourself looking at the corkboard as though it's those ones in those crime movies, where you're using red yarn to connect the pieces of a story together, figuring out with all the clues you have at your disposal who xiao is.

there's other things, too. posters lining the wall and a singular cat shaped plushie on his bed, a wilted bouquet of flowers in a vase on his kitchen countertop meant for decoration, various little knick knacks on his desk, but the part of his room that catches your eye most, though, is his large, expansive bookshelf filled (a little messily) with a variety of different things, almost all of it stuff you actually recognize.

you’re halfway through looking around before you hear the door open back up again. you instinctually freeze, as of you’re a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. you shift your head, locking eyes with him as he steps back inside. to your surprise, he doesn’t look upset, not even annoyed, just intrigued as he watches you awkwardly shuffle away a little from the bookshelves.

you try to apologize with hast. “sorry, I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything, I swear, I was just–“

xiaos quick to interject as he walks right past you over to sit, this time on his bed instead of at his desk. “it’s fine. I don’t mind. you don’t have to apologize.” he crosses his arms once he’s situated in his seat. “do whatever you’d like.” he adds in an attempt to comfort you.

it sounds sarcastic, but you somehow can tell that it’s not. you nod, taking it as (hoping that it’s) permission to keep going. your eyes move over to the other corkboard near the bookshelves, hoping that you’re not stepping over any boundaries by doing so. this board is filled more with many different photos pinned up onto it. there’s all sorts of sites and places, things like concerts or shops or restaurants or nature– the list goes on– with a rare one or two photos with him actually in it. even rarer seemed to be other people that didn’t look like strangers in the background.

you subconsciously speak a thought aloud. “you seem to go out a lot. to really cool places, too.”

the only thing he really says in response is, “all of those aren’t recent.”

you hum in response, eyebrows furrowing a little as you nod in understanding. “oh, I see.” xiao takes it as an opportunity to ask you something even though he knows the answer already. “what about you? do you go out a lot?”

the question takes you a little aback. “I haven’t gotten out a lot recently either.” you try to think about all you’ve done recently, before realizing there’s nothing much to think about at all. you add, in truth, “…you’re honestly the first person I’ve spent time with in a while that wasn’t my roommate, but I don’t think that really counts.”

he cocks his head to the side at that answer, golden eyes staring at you (almost straight through your soul), intrigued. “why haven’t you spent time with anyone else?

a soft pang hits your heart as you think about the reason. the breakup. despite how much time has gone by, you’re still tender about the topic, and would rather not think about everything it’s caused as a result. would rather not think about him, either.

you let out a nervous laugh. “that’s a long story, I guess.” 

xiao seems dissatisfied with that answer. he’s never responded so quickly, without hesitating before.

“I have time.”

you send a look of slight confusion his way. “I thought we were going to study some more today?”

“right…” xiao let’s a lot of dead air slip in whenever he speaks, pausing and hanging onto words as if he’s doing mental calculations to figure out what the right thing to say next. “…in the future, then.”

you nod as your eye continues it’s adventure through the board before another photo catches your attention fully. it’s a pretty photo of a bunch of people standing near the docks, holding up and letting go of lanterns. it looks like, judging from the date scribbled on the bottom of the photo and the contents of the photo itself, the annual lantern rite from a few years back. you remember that day, almost vividly, too. that was your first year at the school. you and venti had gone together that year. it was magical. it seems like xiao really was never too far from you. seriously, you’re surprised you two haven’t talked sooner.

you can’t help but smile as you reminisce on that day. “I remember this exact lantern rite. there was so many people, and the lanterns were so beautiful. they always are.”

you turn around to face him, again. “how long has it been since you’ve gone to the harbor? if I lived as close as you do, I think I’d go to the harbor whenever I have time.”

it takes awhile for xiao to respond, not because he’s thinking of an answer, but because he’s transfixed on your expression right now. you seem so happy that it naturally just pulls on his heart strings. he’s glad you still remember that particular lantern rite, even though he knows you’ve gone to more since then. xiao remembers that day visibly too, but probably (definitely) not for the same you do. he wonders if you remember that part of it deep inside.

“um… since the day of that photo, probably.”

you’re a little taken aback from that answer. xiao lives on the outskirts of the harbor. how could he have not gone back in years? everything you learn about xiao makes you more and more curious as to who he is. “really?” you can’t help but ask. he can’t help but shrug.

you speak without even thinking twice once more. “would you want to go again sometime then?” your eyes dart away from his face. you can’t help but look away before you finish the question, unable to look him in the eye as you clarify, “with me, I mean.” you stumble out the words more confidently than you exprcted. 

he lets out a sigh. “there’s nothing I want from there…” it’s the truth. he hasn’t been very fond of the harbor for what has felt like centuries, especially not the memories he’s tethered to. he can’t help but to regret the accidental roughness of his words, though, when he looks up to see a flash of embarrassment paint across your face. it feels like he picked the wrong answer, but he wants to say the right one, desperately. xiao has never been great at talking, but he’s trying, for you. “but if you’d like… I’d like to go with you.”

you try to hide the way your heart picks up the pace a little at his words. “let’s go soon, then. I can tell you about myself, and you can tell me about you, too.”

he nods, and for a split second you think you’ve gone insane, because you swear, swear, that for a few seconds, the corner of xiao’s lips curve softly into a smile. a smile! smiling at the thought of you two ‘hanging out’ in the future! for all the times you’ve seen xiao, you can maybe only count on one hand how many times you’ve seen him smile. 

“you want to learn about me?” he asks, earnestly, shocked, and it definitely wasn’t a question you were expecting.

“yeah, I mean I've always seen you around. I think we've even been in the same classes before this year, too, and now I’m getting tutored by you  and I still know pretty much nothing about you.” you pause before adding on, “I’d love to learn more. I hope that’s not weird, or anything.”

he shakes his head, the ghost of a smile still etched onto his lips. and if you looked closely (which luckily for him, you weren’t), you’d see the faint dust of blush decorating his cheeks, too. “I don’t have much to tell you, but… that sounds good.”

he feels embarrassed at the fact he can’t control how warm his cheeks feel and how he can’t help but crack a smile at you. he clears his throat, trying to reset himself, suddenly ready to move on, going back to his desk. 

“let’s keep working, I want to make the most out of the time we have together.” he doesn’t look at you as he speaks. you mentally brace yourself for another study session with him.

it’s gonna be a long night.

ーーー NEW MESSAGE ーーー ☆

ven: where have you been?

ven: haven’t seen you all day……….. ):

ven: my flower, the house is so empty without you……….. ))):

ven: are you with somebody? you never tell me these things anymore.

ven: talk to me soon, please.

ーーー ☆

it's late into the night when you're awakened rudely with a few desperate knocks against your bedroom door.

you can't help but groan as you stir awake, upset to be forced out of your dream state, although that irritation is soon replaced with guilt once you realize just why you were being awakened with such urgency in the first place. after whining out a loud, 'come in,' you peak your eyes open to see your best friend standing in your doorway, tears staining his face so much that they're visible even in the darkness.

shit. it's been so long since you've seen venti like this. you thought all of that was over ages ago.

"can I sleep with you tonight?" his voice is shakey yet gentle, filled with fear and something that you can only label as... need, as if he needs you more than he ever has. just his voice alone, paired with the way he looks so in the doorway while he's shivering and fiddling with his pajamas, hair looking almost as distraught as he's feeling, is enough to have you too stunned to speak.

"please?" he adds on when you don't reply immediately.

you nod, scooting over to make room for him as he slowly trudges to your bed like he's done many times before. he's quick to settle in under the covers with you, laying against the plush pillow underneath him. you move closer to him as though it's instinct, an action done out of retained muscle memory from the many nights you've spent doing this exact thing. your eyes, though half lidded and heavy, trace over his face over and over again, noting how his eyes look back at you and you can't help but think that venti is such an expressive person. even if he's so silent right now, his eyes are cloudy and storming, speaking a thousand words with the thunder that rings out within them.

he looks like he's trying to think of what to say, but he doesn't need to say a single thing. you already know why he's here.

his face is contorted in a way that almost showcases utter agony, and it hurts, hurts to see your best friend suffering, especially when the best you can do is guide your hand softly against the smooth the skin of his cheek and brushing away any tears in pity. if nothing else, you truly do hope that, at the very least, your presence can help.

“do you maybe want to talk about it?” you run your hand through his soft, pretty dyed blue locks that seem to almost glow in the moonlight, feeling the light moisture of his skin from his sweat. you’ve forgotten just how easy it always has been to brush your hand through his locks. your voice is gentle and low as if not to startle him, as if not to shatter him more than he already is. “you know you don’t have to, but you can always talk to me if you need to.”

“no, it’s okay... I just want to be with you right now.” his voice is meek as he chooses his words carefully as though they're meticulously chosen to pull at your heartstrings (they do), and he sounds like he’s on the brink of tears once more.

“is it the same dream as before?” you ask, remembering how many nights you've spent with venti just like this when he began getting frequent ‘nightmares’ awhile back, nightmares that till this day you don't know the contents of.

he nods, although hesitantly, as though it’s some sort of secret. and in a way, it is.

he could never, ever, ever tell you that you’re the cause of all of his nightmares after all.

“are you sure you don’t want to talk about it? you look really upset. you've never told me what makes you like this.”

“no, I just want to… I just want to stay like this for a while.”

“okay, ven,” you whisper, soft and quiet, as if your voice could shatter him whole. you pause, thinking of what to say, before you decide that you won’t prode any further, instead bidding him a goodnight. “I love you, venti. get some rest.”

for the first time in maybe months, venti doesn’t tell you he loves you back.

instead he burrows himself as deep as humanly possible, as if being torn away from you would kill him, just like the way his dreams pulled and tugged ruthlessly at his heart strings, shoving images of you with your new 'tutor' down his throat, like they had with him months and months ago.

how cruel is it that he's forced to see you being ripped away from him both in real life and in his dreams?

-----☆

you're half asleep when you feel him mumble into your skin.

"I miss you. I miss this." he whispers, but you can barely hear him. he misses the way you feel, how comforting you smell, how his hands connect with your body like they're puzzle pieces. he misses having all your attention on him like this, so quick to coo and ask if he's okay. everything’s changed from how it used to be.

"what?"

you feel venti's hands slip under your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your back as he slowly trails his hands up and down, basking in the way that you feel. "I miss you, cecilia. especially today." his voice isn't shakey anymore. instead it's much more fluid, as though he never had the night terrors that brought him into your room to begin with. you can't help but frown at his words even in your sleepy state.

"venti..." you mumble out, feeling his hands start to dig themselves into your skin. his grip on your waist is tightー not enough for it to hurt, but just enough that it keeps you from pushing him away if you really wanted to, trapping and suffocating you, bordering the lines of sucking the air out of your lungs.

part of you wishes he wouldn't keep things so bottled up from you, because clearly, your constant 'absence' in his life is hurting him more than you'll ever be able to understand, but the more selfish part of you is shamefully grateful that he is. you love venti, but for a man who constantly champions for freedom, he's always been so dead set on taking away yours.

you know deep down that if you gave venti an inch, he'd take a mile, and you don't have many miles left to give. you could spend twenty-four hours of a day with venti and he would still want you to somehow spend twenty-five on him. as much as you love ventiー truly, you love him more than anything else in the worldー, you know it'd be better if you didn't indulge him as much as you want him to. lord knows how quick venti would be to turn you into a hollow, empty shell of yourself by taking every second you have all for himself if he could.

besides, this whole thing will blow over eventually after the party, right?

right?

"I know that I've already whined and complained about it, but god, I miss you. you were gone for so long today with someone I don't even know… seeing you occasionally here and there isn't enough for me. I..." venti somehow manages to pull his body even closer to you, your chest and his chest plush against each other, so close that you can feel the way it rises as he breathes slowly. "I know I'm selfish, but I need you."

he says the word 'need' as if he'd die without you.

you don't think this is a conversation you two should be having when you're so... out of it, exhausted.

"venti, can we talk about this in the morning?"

his grip slowly loosens. "...okay." he says the word slowly and hesitantly, as if he's a child saying a cuss word for the first time, as if agreeing to put his feelings aside until you're in a much more lucid and conscious state is a sin. "I'm... I'm sorry for bothering you and being so clingy and... I just..." venti swallows thickly. "goodnight," venti mumbles, choosing not to finish his thought.

your eyebrows furrow, something about this whole conversation feeling off to you. never in a million years would venti have been so... upfront, apart from the day he invited you to the party. it's like venti's slowly unraveling like a string, just one little tug away from snapping.

it wouldn't be the first time venti's snapped on you though. you need to mend things and shut off the ticking time bomb before things blow up in your face again, like when you...

like when you...

ugh. you'll think about all of this later when you're actually well-rested and capable of forming cohesive thoughts. you softly mumble out a goodnight to venti as well, praying that the storm will blow off soon enough.

it doesn't, though. the winds only get stronger and louder.

ーーー☆

venti wasn't in your room by the time you woke up. infact, he wasn't in the apartment at all. not in his room, not in the kitchen or in the bathroom getting ready, nowhere. he didn't even leave a text telling you where he went.

you guess that venti needs time to think after last night, and you decide that it's probably for the best.

you'll see him again later anyways.

ーーー☆

it's cold out today, october's chill punishing you for wearing too light of a sweater for the weather, but the freezing temperature of the classroom during today's lecture isn't the cause of the way you squirm in your seat out of discomfort. no, you have professor zhongli to take credit for that.

you're convinced that zhongli gets a kick out of giving you borderline heart attacks.

honestly, that isn't exactly far from the truth. there's something about the way your eyes flicker in complete, utter fear just by him saying, "[name], may you please see me after class? there's something I'd like to discuss with you," that sends shivers down his spine, as egregious as that may sound. it's a shameful feeling for a professor to have, but at least he has much more innocent intentions this time as opposed to the last time he's asked you to stay behind.

the request was given to you right at the start of class (which you were actually on time to, thank god) before he began with his lecture. and once again, you couldn't help but think about just what exactly zhongli wanted to discuss with you throughout the entire lecture, almost too busy coming up with theories to focus. all you can think is, did you do something wrong again? was the assignment you turned in last night bad? all that studying you did with xiao couldn’t have been for nothing, right? you're going to fail the semester at this rate.

you wish zhongli was more dead set on helping you pass like last year than assuring that you failed.

you can’t help but call back to that time. you had been much worse off back then. you were visibly behind everyone else, but it hadn't started that way. so much was happening back then. and that breakup, oh that fucking break up, really made focusing on your school work beyond difficult. you truly did put up a fight, tried to make sure you stayed afloat, and it did work at first. but your responsibilities drowned you completely, and you never really learned how to swim.

it was a rough semester, and one of your classes had been taught by the very same man taking great pleasure in ruining you today. your one saving grace? once again, the very same man, who had seemed to take enough pity onto you that he took matters into his own hands to make sure you did well.

you stood out back then, not because you shone bright, but because you didn't shine at all.

zhongli wanted to light that fire back in you that you had at the start of the year. and he had.

zhongli had took you under his wing, struck you with passion and drive, made you fall in love all over again with the topic you were studying through his ramblings and stories and sheer utter knowledge; he revitalized you, filled a hole. he had kept you after class and in his office on weekends, making time to make sure that you succeeded and through his gentle nurturing that was the hot to his own cold. you had succeeded, to your surprise. and he had looked after you ever since.

it was silly for you to believe that he would grace you with the same mercy this course.

but things are different now. so much more different. you were grateful back then for him striving to push you to do better, but now it's overwhelming. back then, his standards were achievableー finish your assignments on time as often as you could, study a little when you can, at least attempt to attend every class you had. it was doable. but now, now you're almost convinced he wants you to become borderline perfectー no, perfect is an understatement. he wants you to be better than perfect.

perfect, and vulnerable.

back then it felt as though he was trying to help you but now, the back of your mind can't help but tell you that he's always been helping himself, benefiting himself, not you.

it was at the start of this school year that you let yourself fall right into the dragon's lair.

either way, maybe it's the fact that your mind was so occupied, or maybe time simply just decided to speed up, but the class flew by in no time. you had practically tuned out all of zhongli's ramblings and teachings today. you watched zhongli dismiss the class, staying seated despite the way everyone else shuffled out of the door as quickly as possible. once again, it was just you and zhongli in the empty room.

fuck.

zhongli walks to the front of your desk, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long sigh, and you never knew how such a little harmless action could strike so much fear into your heart. could you just combust already? you're not at all ready for whatever zhongli has to say.

"what a long class we had today, hm? I hope I didn't bore you too much. you looked particularly distracted." zhongli says, smiling gently at you as he attempts to brighten the gloomy mood you're clearly in. "luckily, though, I've been excited to talk to you all class. you truly were my saving grace today."

is this some kind of sick joke? you were kidding when you thought zhongli must get pleasure out of your failure, but you might actually be right.

gross.

"don't worry, though, I didn't keep you after class just to complain. I'll get to the point, since I know you hate pointless chatter."

"I know it's far too early to say this, but I'm proud of you, [name]."

that caring nature still shines through, the strict professor he's supposed to be eroded and washed away by time itself.

your eyebrows furrow. "what?" you can’t help but let the word slip out of your mouth in the midst of your confusion.

"the assignment you gave in last night, truly one of your best works this semester. you never fail to amaze me with how fast you manage to make a turnaround when you put your mind to it, [name]."

the assignment? the one you worked on last night at the last second despite having over a week to do it after studying with xiao that you had to keep your eyes pried open to complete? the one xiao had borderline picked apart a dozen times as though trying to break you down even more? that assignment?

what?

"but I... what? if it was any good, it's likely only because xiao was there to help me." you mumble, unsure of your words.

"so? are you really diminishing your accomplishments just because you got a little aid?" zhongli plants a hand on your cheek like he has a dozen times in the past before guiding your face to look up at him. "or are you trying to say that it was xiao who had done your assignment, not you?"

"o-of course he didn't, but-" zhongli is quick to shush you, pressing a gloved thumb against your lips with a soft smile.

"shh. you did well, and that's final. I hope this pattern continues. you know I want nothing but the best for you after seeing what you can achieve." his gloved hand caresses your cheek and you're convinced he can feel the heat your face is producing out of embarrassment even through the layer of fabric. "my little star, you're doing well again." he adds quietly, so quietly that you can just barely make it out, though the nickname is far less shocking than the praise that your brain is still trying to make sense of.

"before I let you go, I just wanted to reiterate that should you ever need my assistance with anythingー and I mean anything at all, whether it's related to your academics or notー know that I am and always will be here."

"I... thank you." it's the only words you can come up with as zhongli leaves you alone with your thoughts. "thank you," you repeat, speaking the words much more quietly. in a hushed whisper.

in the back of your mind, you realize that you should be thinking about how odd it is for zhongli to suddenly be so sugary sweet, how he's touched you so much more intimately than a professor should, how his little nickname for you is weird at best, and yet all you can think about is how he's proud of you.

for some reason, that's all that really matters to you in the moment. you can think about... all that other stuff, later.

ーーー☆

it's almost pitch dark out by the time you finally get home. 

"I'm home!" you shout out as soon as you step through the front door, voice a little breathy after having to climb up a few flights of stairs to get up to your apartment, alerting venti that you've arrived in a way akin to how married couples do. you're quick to lock the door behind you, stripping yourself of your shoes that feel more like weights before placing them in the shoe rack near the door and putting your heavy bag down next to venti's violin case, deciding you'll bother with getting whatever you need out of there when you feel like it. you wince a little at the cold tiles of the floor underneath your feet.

maybe one day you'll move into a place with an actual heater, you think.

"I'll be there in just a second!" venti's voice rings out from what you assume is the bathroom down the hall, likely showering given the pitter-pattering sound of running water. you nod, as though responding to him despite the fact he can't see you, flicking on the light switch to the kitchen as you do so. the kitchen table immediately grabs your attention with how different it looks compared to how you left it this morning. two orange pumpkins sit at the center, and alongside it lays an unopened package of carving tools and another package of tea lights, a brown bag filled with what looks to be some house decor and knick knacks (venti truly does love trying to make your run-down apartment as much of a true home as possible), and a bag of groceries yet to be put away.

you sit down at the medium sized wooden table, allowing yourself to rest and bask in the day as you look through everything infront of you. it's been awhile since you've just sat in silence and thought, and even longer since you let yourself really live in this home without just heading straight to your room. your nails drill against the table, pushing one of the two pumpkins closer to you with a soft hum. you trace a finger against it, imaginging what'd you want to carve on it and how it'd glow after you put a candle inside.

this year you should do something new, get a little more fancier with the design that you have in the previous years that you craved a pumpkin. maybe you and venti will carve matching jack-o-laterns this year. you can't help but smile at the thought.

"they're cute, aren't they?"

you tense up when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but you instantly relax when you turn your head to see venti. you guess you were so lost in thought you hadn't heard him come out of the bathroom. you drink in his presence, giving him a glance over out of instinct. the smell of his apple-cinnamon bodywash assault your senses in an oddly comforting way, a scent that makes you feel right at home. he's in a pair pajamas and cute bunny slippers, and his hair is clipped up in a pretty half up, half down ponytail. the blue dyed tips of his hair are losing their signature color (which is odd, considering that despite his inherit laziness, venti's always been one to make sure those tips stay bright blue at all costs) and his skin looks a little damp.

a gummy smile paints his face, and he has a bit of a playful glint in his eye, but he looks notably tired, and a sense of worry pings at your heart at the sight. you were the roommate notorious for having bags under your eyes afterall, not him, so to see him look so exhausted, especially when venti's always been one for getting his 'beauty sleep,' tells you that venti internally isn't feeling his best. it sounds shallow, judging someone's mental health based on their appearance, but you know venti like the back of your hand, and you know that something's wrong.

even moreso, you know exactly what that wrong thing is, given last night's conversation.

"I got them at the grocery store today. thought it might be fun to carve them together before they go bad. that is, if you want to grace me with your undivided time and attention, of course." venti pretends he's joking, but you know deep down he means the sentiment of wanting you to give him your time for once, and you honestly feel awful at his words. nonetheless, you suck it up, smiling up at him. it's a genuine smile.

"why wouldn't I? it is tradition after all. I'm going to make mine extra scary this year."

venti laughs at your words, his heart internally flutter at the thought of how determined your face would look as you try to create the spookiest jack-o-latern he's ever seen. he leans down, pressing a soft, platonic peck to your forehead, finally giving you a welcome home.

"you're home later than usual again, everything go okay?"

you can't help but notice that venti is acting as if he had never said what he said last night, though the air between you is still awkward and tense, and his face does little to hide the fact that deep down, he's still quelling on the things he spoke about. nonetheless, you decide that that conversation is to be had when venti wants it to happen, knowing full well from years of being his best friend that venti prefers keeping a lighter mood at all costs, so you leave things at that until he's ready to speak about it again.

"yeah, I just thought that I'd try to get some work done while I could at campus," you answer, watching as he nods slowly at your words. you can tell he's fighting back the urge to interrogate you, to ask you if you were with anybody and if you really needed to stay at campus, and anything else he can use as a way to rationalize the fact that he's so clingy. he looks around the room, thinking about what else he could say to make sure the conversation doesn't end prematurely.

"oh! I ordered some takeout a bit before you came home. it's still hot, if you want to eat."

you nod, thanking him, and you can tell he's trying to read you, to figure out just how exactly he can stay with you longer without him bringing up anything you two talked about last night. he stands there, presence lingering as though he has something to say, and yet he chooses not to say whatever's on his mind, instead preferring to pick up the unopened bottle of dandelion wine on the nearby kitchen counter.

"you seem all set. I'll get going now, then. I have an urgent date with a bottle of wine that I can't miss for the world." venti moves quickly to leave as though trying to make sure you don't see through to him, turning his back to you without another word, but he doesn't get too far before he's freezing up at your words.

"you're not gonna stay and chat?" you say instinctively, a little surprised by the fact he was so quick to come and go today. you don't know what it is about today, but the thought of venti forcing himself to go when he clearly doesn't want to pains you. maybe it was last night's conversation, or maybe it's how venti radiates warmth that fights against the biting cold that nips at your skin, or maybe you just miss venti, but you want him here with you.

venti turns around slowly, his voice low as he speaks. "oh..." he starts off, "I thought you would've wanted to eat alone like all the other nights," you almost let out a wince at his words. how long has it really been since you last simply hung out with venti? "do you... want me to stay?" you let out a gentle hum.

"I want you here tonight. I want to talk to you."

"about what?"

you think about everything you'd want to tell venti, and you realize that that's exactly it; you want to tell him everything and anything you can. you want to tell him about your new tutor who turned out to be a lot less scary than you were expecting him to be, or that new coffee shop a friend had told you about that opened up near by that you'd love to tell him about, or how zhongli was actually kind to you today. but you also want venti to tell you everything too, about any escapades he's had recently while drunk or new songs he's written, or even how his classes are going and if he's thinking of going to any other parties soon.

you realize that, as much as you'd hate to admit it to yourself, you miss just being with venti a lot too.

"everything," you finally reply after thinking, grinning up at his hesitant form.

"everything? really? this isn't a ploy to tell me horrific news or to try to get out of going to that party, is it?"

"no, I promise. I'm honestly a bit offended you'd think I'd ever be so cruel as to try to get out of going to such an amazing party," you joke.

venti playfully rolls his eyes at your words, but he can't help the smile that creeps up his face. his smile is bright like a star, warm enough for a planet to survive off of, eyelids crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he puts the bottle in his hand down befofe he pulls up one of the kitchen chairs, the legs screeching against the floor so that he's sitting infront of you. he leans in close to you as though you were about to tell him the greatest story known to man. you can't help but feel warm and fuzzy inside. venti's smile, his real and genuine smile, gives you a feeling like no other. it makes you feel whole, like none of your problems neither exist nor matter and that everything in this world is perfect.

"okay then, dove, tell me everything."

ーーー NEW TEXT MESSAGE ーーー☆

alatus: can you believe it's almost sunday already?

[name]: holy shit, time is going by so fast

[name]: I'm so excited to meet you in person

alatus: I'm excited too.

[name]: I can't believe I've known you for over a year and I'm only going to get to see your face now

[name]: I swear, if you're just some creep...

alatus: I promise I'm not.

alatus: well, maybe.

[name]: ha ha, very funny.

[name]: but seriously, it honestly feels like I've known you for forever.

alatus: maybe you have and you just never noticed

#tw stalking #tw age gap #tw possession #tw student teacher relationship #tw yandere #tw manipulation #yandere xiao x reader #yandere venti x reader #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere Genshin impact x reader

[delirious-donna]

Greedy, Jealous Man [Satoru Gojo]

an: oh @azurelyy, thank you for giving me this prompt for my event. I lost my mind writing this, and now think I am quite obsessed with this version of Gojo-sensei... I hope you like it ^^

prompt: the sin of Greed (with bonus points for some jealousy/envy - I love a challenge!)

pairing: Satoru Gojo (sensei) x female reader (student)

warnings: teacher/student dynamic, Gojo is 28, reader is 19, implied unprotected sex, groping, possessive traits, overstimulation, pussy fingering, cum play, marking, Gojo is a greedy greedy man!

Masterlist

“Why you fucking with those boys?” he demanded of you.

Words were caught fast in your throat, nothing but garbled moans falling from your lips along with pathetic strings of runny saliva. One hand braced against the headboard, the thunderous rattle reverberated around your small dorm room, and the other reached for the insistent hand that was rubbing at your puffy, abused clit.

Celestial eyes crinkled as the snowy-haired male smirked down at you, his head cocked to the side as he batted you away with only a flick of his powerful wrist. He continued to slam his fat cock into your sopping hole at a near inhuman speed whilst playing with your adorably twitchy little clit.

“I asked a question, I expect you to answer like a good girl.”

“F-friends. They’re–fuck–just friends,” you managed to splutter out. 

Heat spread like molten lava across your chest, and sweat beaded over your tits as they bounced wildly from each and every rhythmical pound that Gojo delivered. The way he paused whilst balls deep, pelvis grinding against yours and ensuring your walls were moulded to his length was enough to make you gush anew. 

He was marking you as his, and you loved it.

“Friends,” he mocked, rearing back onto his knees and pulling you down the bed to keep you connected to his eager dick, “don’t think I haven’t seen the way they drool over you. They’d kill for a chance to be inside this sweet pussy.”

Your gaze lowered to your joining point, just in time to watch him pull from your clenching cunt, the red mushroom tip slick with your arousal and a ring of thick cream around his base, dripping towards the sheets. 

“Gojo-sensei.”

He groaned in his throat, and you admired the tendons in his neck straining under the tension. A blush coating his pectorals that rippled under your watch, abs contracting from the rigorous workout of fucking you so damn furiously and possessively. Gojo’s head tipped back to stare at the ceiling for a second before he smacked the head of his cock against your trembling clit hood and slid back in on an exalted sigh.

His large palms groped at you, kneading your dewy flesh and pulling decadent-sounding whines from your throat. That lazy, self-assured smile twisted into something sinister as he locked eyes with you, “this is all mine, understood? These lips, this throat, these perky tits and especially this.”

Satoru’s palm pressed against your cunt, rutting against his own hand as he felt your soaked folds, admired how your pussy sucked him deep and just how responsive you were to his touch.

“I don’t share,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

His pace turned sloppy, your walls clinging to him as you reached your peak with reverential chants of his name, all adding to his already monstrous ego. 

“That’s it, baby, milk me dry.”

As you float gently back down to earth from your mind-shattering orgasm, you had expected this to be the end of things, but oh no. Your greedy man isn’t quite finished with you yet.

Satoru pulls gingerly from your spasming walls, wiping his still rigid cock against your pussy lips before lowering his face between your parted thighs.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you asked on a strangled cry, the sensation of one of his thick fingers collecting your mingled release and pushing it back inside is enough to make you jerk around.

“Don’t wanna waste a drop, plus I can’t help but want more of this tasty pussy.”

The white-haired menace bit tenderly at the crease of your thigh as he continued to stuff his cum into your hole.

“Make sure you wear a skirt to class, I want to see my cum running down your thigh and maybe it’ll keep Itadori-kun and Fushiguro-kun from drooling all over my property.”

Satoru was a greedy, jealous man.

#delirious writes #gojo satoru #gojo sensei #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw teacher/student

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I discovered that one of my teachers wanted to kill her students because she posted about it on Twitter.

#dream #text #November 18th 2023 #teacher #student #murder tw #death tw #violence tw #twitter #x #queueueueueueueueueueueueueue

[merakiui]

Hi hi ~

What are your thoughts on professor/TA twst characters x college student reader ??? I literally cannot stop thinking about Prof ashengrotto who just adores the sweet and diligent student who sits in the front of the class, always participating, always turns in assignments on time... Prof ashengrotto who grades your papers mercilessly knowing you'll barge into his office biting back tears because who's grade is this?? Certainly not yours?? What if you lose your scholarship?? Whoever is going to help you???

p p pp p p pppp professor.........ashengrotto..........

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, one-sided student-professor relationship, age gap (azul is 38 & reader is 23), coercion, abuse of power/authority, implied dub-con)

He's ruthless with every paper he grades, but he's especially ruthless with you. Professor Ashengrotto has a reputation in his department: socially, he's handsome and young (a mere thirty-eight, and he's just as bright, if not brighter, than some of the older professors). Academically, he's brilliant and very knowledgeable when it comes to business and the economy (and interestingly enough he has a penchant for marine biology as well), but he pushes students to do their very best. And to some that may seem like he's too hard or difficult, but he's actually very understanding and if you meet him outside of the classroom he's not as intimidating as he appears at the lectern.

But even so he expects his students to strive for the best possible grades. He wants everyone to pass his classes, but he also won't cut corners or raise grades even if they're a point or so away. He claims he's fair when it comes to grading, but sometimes it feels like he deliberately grades for every possible mistake rather than the content itself. At least, that's how it feels with your work. He took off points for a few grammar errors (of all things) and even took off points regarding very minor discrepancies in your information. When you brought it up to him after class, he'd simply told you, "You should know your subject if you're going to write a report on them and obviously, from the looks of your most recent paper, you do not."

It was a report on the intelligence of the octopus. You'd spent hours poring over textbooks and academic journals. You'd penned every reliable source, every fact, every study and its data. How any of that was "incorrect" is beyond you. You even cited every source properly! What is he even thinking, marking you for "incorrect information"?

In your defense, you are not a marine biology major. You're just taking a class because you need course credits and this was one of the few that provided you with the extra hours needed. You know Professor Ashengrotto from the business classes you're taking. He's just as cutthroat there. Apparently, the academic world is just as ruthless as the business world (at least in Professor Ashengrotto's eyes).

As if your professor can't get any harsher, he does. He failed your most recent report for one of the business courses, and it hurt your grade a considerable amount. So, like clockwork, you find yourself in his office, your paper nearly crumpled in your fist with how tightly you're gripping it. You can't fail out of his class. You need to keep a certain grade average each semester if you intend to keep your scholarship, your status as an honors student, your roles in certain clubs and extracurriculars. You verbalize these worries to him and he smiles and proposes an offer: You can redo the entire report so long as you take care to do a better job. It sounds great until you hear the deadline. Three days. He's giving you three days. Three days to write an entire report from the ground up because he won't accept changes made to the already existing paper. Three days.

Three days.

You think you might go insane.

Oh, but the fair and polite Professor Ashengrotto has a suggestion! He's willing to extend that time if you meet with him for coffee to discuss further. Stupidly, you agree right away, thanking him for his understanding, and he continues to smile, to say he really does get it. University is taxing; he knows. He's been there before. He just wants to help you; this is your future, after all.

On your way out of his office, you fail to notice the pale eyes that stick themselves to your rear as you retreat. The door shuts behind you, and only then do you realize the nature of the agreement. Meeting up for coffee. Outside of class. Outside of office hours. Meeting up...for coffee. Why does that feel...wrong, somehow? Why does it unsettle you?

But you need to amend your grades. You need to pass. You need to secure your future. So you push your discomfort aside and prepare yourself for the weekend.

- - -

It's strange to see Professor Ashengrotto without his usual pressed suits, luxury wristwatch, expensive ties, and shined shoes. He's almost...casual in his black turtleneck sweater, grey trench coat, and black slacks. He looks almost like a fellow student, so much so that his appearance startles you when you spot him sitting in a corner of the comfortable coffee shop.

To your speechless stare, he chuckles and asks, "Am I not allowed to dress comfortably on my days off?"

And then it hits you. This is his day off. This is your day off. This is not an academic setting. This is...

You shake your head and slide into the seat across from him. "Sorry. It just surprised me." You're digging through your bag to distract yourself, now acutely aware of his stare pinned on you. "I brought my laptop and was hoping you could look over my sources. I spent all of last night compiling them, so maybe if you had a chance to review them I might know what to do to avoid making the same mistakes. And I also started a new thesis. I don't think the other one was working. Maybe that's where I went wrong and so if I just change—"

"Is everything all right?"

You blink, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Sorry?"

"Are you okay? You seem frazzled."

"Well, I mean, yeah. That should be obvious." You cough, realizing your reply was harsh, and fix it with, "I'm trying to manage the workload from your classes and my other classes, Professor."

"Please. Call me Azul."

Your face scrunches in distaste. It doesn't sound right to refer to any professor by their first name, even if some of them have noted they don't particularly mind it. With Professor Ashengrotto, it feels far too casual. You don't like it.

And as if things can't get anymore casual, they do when a waitress arrives to deliver two cups of coffee and pastries. You stare at it. It's brewed just the way you like it. Even the pastry is your favorite. You fix Professor Ashengrotto with a questioning stare.

"You mentioned it in one of our introductions."

"My favorite coffee and pastry?" You frown, combing through your brain for when you might have said so. It's highly possible when you introduced yourself to your peers at the start of the semester. "Oh. Well, allow me to pay you back for—"

"There's no need." He smiles at you. It's gentler this time. You don't like it.

"No, I insist. How much was it? I'll give you the exact change right now."

You're fumbling for your wallet when his arm reaches across the table. A warm hand closes around yours.

"Professor Ashengrotto?"

"Azul," he corrects evenly. "And please don't worry about it. Everyone needs a little pick-me-up every now and then, yes?"

His fingers curl into yours, nearly entwining, and you yank your hand away, icy horror creeping up your spine. He blinks at you, as if stunned, before composing himself and drawing back. You stare between your wallet and laptop before pocketing the former and turning the latter on.

"Well, if you really don't want me to pay you back... Then let's get back to the matter at hand."

For the rest of your afternoon, you resign yourself to academic discussions. It's easy to fall into that rhythm, and Professor Ashengrotto offers helpful insight as he reviews everything you show him. By the end of it, you're relieved to have finished such a draining discussion. More importantly, you're glad you can leave this coffee shop and never return again (at least not with Professor Ashengrotto).

He reminds you to have it submitted before midnight at the end of the week. You thank him for his help and, just to ease your anxious heart, leave him with a few Madol for the drink and the pastry. On your way out, you feel his eyes on you, watching you make the walk to your car. Those eyes never leave, even after you've driven away.

It can't get any worse, you tell yourself.

You submit your revised paper a minute after midnight. And, apparently, by your professor's standards it's late. He gives you half credit. It hardly raises your grade. If anything, it lowers it a few points.

Like a bad song on repeat, you find yourself in his office yet again. And like before he proposes the same fix: coffee and revision. Stupidly, you agree to another weekend spent in discomfort. It's for the sake of your grades. It's for the sake of your scholarships. It's for the sake of your future, so you can sacrifice slivers of your sanity.

You have to if you want to pass.

- - -

Though it feels like you're improving in his class, your grade does not reflect this. You're not sure how many more coffee dates you can take. You're not sure how many more Please. Call me Azuls you can take. You're not sure how many fleeting touches you can take, each one seeming more invasive than the last. You hold your tongue and swallow disgust because your grades are in his capable hands. You need good grades. You need to pass. You need to, you need to, you need to.

You're in his office again, but this time your resolve has shattered and you're crying. You hate every moment of this. You hate feeling so cornered. Most of all, you hate how empty the building gets at this time of day.

"I don't know what you want anymore," you admit in a broken whisper. "I'm trying so hard. I've revised paper after paper, I've discussed everything over coffee, and I've done my best to improve. I listen and take notes. I ask questions. I'm never distracted. I always study the material. So what am I doing wrong? What am I supposed to do to pass? I can't lose my chances at being considered for certain scholarships..."

Professor Ashengrotto wears sympathy like it's a counterfeit of a luxury scarf. It almost fools you, but then he's rising from his seat, crossing the distance to the door, and you know his care stems from something else. Something wicked and foul.

"I'm sorry to hear you're struggling. I'm here to help, but I can't help if you aren't willing to put in enough time to submit good work—and submit it on time, might I add. This is a team effort, after all."

But I am putting in enough time! you want to say, but the words won't come. Your throat is closing up, raw and ragged from sobbing.

"If you're so concerned, I can offer you an alternative." His voice has dropped dangerously low. You don't dare turn around to face him. You can't when you hear the door shut and lock with an ominous click. "This deal is a double-edged sword. It will hurt both of us should the wrong people catch wind of it."

His shoes click out steady steps against the linoleum. He bends down to view you, hunched and horrified, in your chair. "But you're smart, so I know I can count on my little honor student to keep their pretty mouth shut." He smiles a sharp, nasty smile and draws back, leaning against his desk with his arms folded primly over his chest. "So let's help each other. Team effort, after all."

"P-Professor Ashengrotto, I don't think this is...appropriate."

He quirks a brow at you, and his normally soft, powdery hues are dark and stormy. "You want to pass, don't you? I could fail you right here, right now. Take one step out of this office and you'll never know success in any of my classes ever again." The light must have drained from your eyes because he chuckles again, tutting softly. "Don't make that expression. I'm not cruel. I'm giving you an opportunity to improve your grades. If I were you, I'd take it."

You weigh your grades and your integrity. Is the former really that important? You can survive one failure, right? Anything would be better than this horror. Anything would be better, right? So why are you hesitating?

You stare at your lap and, very quietly, ask, "What is it you want?"

"Get on your knees and put that smart mouth of yours to work. If you're good, I might consider giving you extra credit."

It's for the sake of your grades, so you have no choice.

#twisted chit chat #gross!!!! he's so gross!!! >:( #yandere twst #tw: age gap #tw: student teacher relationship #tw: dubcon

[terrence-silver]

Hello 🖤 I love seeing your blog pop up in my feed, simply exquisite 🖤

I have a request. What would older Terry Silver do with an adult student who is rather boisterous in class, she listens but only when she wants, she's a smarty pants. Terry so wishes to teach her a lesson after many months of class passing, learning her mannerisms, learning HER. Ever the voyeur, finding her home, seeing what lies within when she's not home, Terry plans a little 'private lesson,' specifically for her at his home dojo. Ending with his gi sloppy on him, his hair a mess like the slut he is with his student underneath him with no mercy being shown. His student definitely listens to HIS wants and desires, eager to please.

Breaking Stone.

(Terry Silver x Reader)

---

-"How safe is this, Sensei? I mean, it’s solid rock."- 

Your voice speaks up from the gathered crowd and Terry Silver, he knew you’d have something to say without having to turn his back towards the mass of students keenly eyeing his demonstration in silence, standing jam packed in a circle around the erected board with a concrete block fastened to the center of the scaffolding propped up on iron legs, following his every word like a mantra only for him predict that your mouth will eventually move to utter something and dare interrupt him. Class fifty eight. A lesson on Brick Breaking. Tools necessary; pretty straightforward. A slab of rock and a fist. Additional spices; your usual commentary in the midst of it all. Happened almost daily. Happened to the degree it was a constant he could count on. -"We’ll break our hands on that."- You add with a sense of urgency and worry once the entirety of the exercise’s participants turn their eyes towards you, scrutinizing, weighing and accessing what you just blurted out and you tended to blurt out stuff frequently. Terry joins them in their quiet staring, finding a twitch of satisfaction stir through him once he realized you were jittery and stuttering, made self aware through the fact you were the sudden center of attention. Needing to justify yourself for placing the spotlight unto yourself, you blurt out some more bullshit. Nerves, was it? You deserved that. Deserved much worse for stepping out of line. -"What do we do in case we tear our ligaments punching the board?"- You ask, scratching the back of your head. Ligaments? Were you frightened of getting a boo-boo? At that point, Terry allows himself to turn his entire body towards you, taking his time, slowly --- painfully slowly --- looking straight ahead, towards you. You shift, from one bare foot on the mat to the other, like the stillness of everything around you gave you a sense of discomfort.

Stew in it. He hoped you'd stew in it.

-"Seems a bit extreme. Sorry."-

You chuckle, apologizing, looking down. Then back up.

Terry has to chuckle with you, neatly folding his hands in front of him.

A bit extreme? It was meant to be extreme.

-"Our student here thinks our methods are strange, but these classes aren’t mandatory."-

He simply shrugs matter-of-factly, addressing the people around him, all eyes leave you and pinning themselves in his direction instead, encircling him like a tightly closed ring, listening attentively, leaving you even more isolated in your folly. The great mother hen and the ducklings. The one, solitary ugly black duck that talked too much. -"Nobody’s here by force."- He explains, and contrary to popular belief, everyone here gave their signature of consent on a written contract. Terms. Conditions. Price rates. Health insurances. They showed up to daily classes because they wanted to, giving their hard earned money out of their own volition. He didn't go kidnapping people off of the streets of LA and harassing them into black Gi, in spite of what the likes of Larusso tried to accuse him of, same way not even Larusso himself was harassed into this, decades ago. -"Or are you all here by force?"- Terry purses his lips, looking around, enjoying this far too much to stop. In unison, they all speak up, one voice, stemming from one collective lung. -"No, Sensei!"- The dojo resonates with their shout. He tries again, spreading his arms, envisioning himself like Pontius Pilate about to wash his hands clean of you and let the crowds make their decisions. -"Why are you here for then?"- He inquires, raising his voice, encouraging them. Spurring them on. -"To learn, Sensei!"- Obeying, they repeat the motion, letting out a united cry and content, Terry squeezes his fingers into a fist once they all fall silent, all but an echo remaining, his other free hand caressing the concrete block in front of him, never taking his eyes off of you. At this point, with a mouth standing agape, forgetting you should've joined everyone in their jubilant war cry, you were as pale as a ghost. Not quite so chatty or smart anymore.

Perfect.

-"The lesson is —"- He begins. -"A true artist of the craft spends years, even decades just hitting things. Sand. Wood. Stone. Metal. Flesh."-

Terry coos, confessing, that he did, on occasion, imagine hitting you.

The sweetest thing he'd ever strike. Purely to shut you up, get you the way you were right now; As quiet as the dead; all gulps and anxious little eyes darting left and right. Preferably having you bent over his knee like an unruly child and taking the bamboo stick to you bare buttocks until they were rendered crimson red with punishment. After it was all done, he'd have you thanking him for the honor too. He smiles, just at the notion; an expression he doesn't bother hiding.

-"Having been broken so many times, it makes their bones so dense that when it comes in contact with solid rock, the rock breaks first."-

Terry digs his teeth into his lower lip, taking his stance and lunging forward suddenly, knuckles breaking through the barrier of the rock and crumbling, his fingers pushing through the crack he made on the other side. It was as simple as that. -"Asaa!"- He bellows and if the dojo was collectively holding it's breath, once he's done, the remains of sharp jagged tiny pebbles spilling on the mat under around his feet like so many rolling marbles, he senses an equally collective exhale. He can swear you weren't blinking at that point. What were you shocked by? The fact that he just smashed through a brick that weighed ten pounds like it was nothing or the implication he's broken his hand by choice so many times that he could pull shit like this in the first place? Maybe it wasn't smart to backtalk or question the methods of a person who could crush your windpipes in with merely just his thumbs. -"So, you see — breaking our fists, it’s part of the curriculum."- He shakes his head, staring you down, taking a couple of steps forward, until it was undeniable he was addressing you in particular; his infuriatingly Doubting Thomas, ignoring the students that wordlessly volunteered to clean up, scooting down to pick up the unfortunate remains of the rock slab, chirping away at the remains like a handful of chicks. -"This is part of what you signed up for when you came to this dojo. When you came to Cobra Kai."- He assesses firmly. -"You came to break with the old so the new and the improved could take its place."- He adds. Eventually, you'd have to bruise and break in those pretty little hands much like everyone else would and if you didn't have the guts to do that, you'd advance nowhere and your here would become fairly obsolete. Someone might as well tell you that upfront.

Even though, he confessed. The idea of a piece of rock breaking your hands?

Something shoots through him, like a radioactive phantasm of jealousy.

He wanted to do the breaking instead.

Not leave it up to an inanimate piece of training gear.

-"And if you can't imagine yourself doing that, you can always take up a knitting class."-

He adds, finally, earning himself a couple of amused chuckles.

Blood rushes into your cheeks.

Were you angry? Ashamed? Humiliated? Good.

—

Looking through your files was child's game after that.

He pretty much had everything he needed to know about you, printed in black and white in his own two hands, on the very exact form you filled the day you signed up for adulted classes six months ago; your home address, bank statement, contact number, email, age, place of employment, blood type in case an accident took place mid-training and a transfusion was needed on short notice. And yes, he's broken into your home before. Terry did it the first time you ever ran your mouth to backtalk him, asking if doing fifty consecutive push ups as warm was a smart decision because it was bound to leave everyone too exhausted to hold proper form and too distracted with tiredness to properly follow the class. He checked every drawer, every shelf, every nook, every cranny, supposing he wanted to find something he could spit on in indignation and discovering nothing more fitting but what he could only deduce was your framed graduation photograph, pursuing his lips and letting the saliva build up right before he hurled the spittle out of his mouth and right unto the glass inside of the frame, watching it trickle down your face, smearing it with his finger in retaliation, deciding the gesture was fitting punishment. If only he had a chance to do it with your actual face next. Spit in your mouth too, for refusing to shut up as it did. Spit in your mouth for missing three of your classes this week, like that was a thing you were allowed to do when you weren't. Did he tear into you verbally too hard last time? Was that it? Undoubtedly, but that still didn't give you permission to leave. He wanted you to come back so he could harass you some more, like you deserved to be harassed.

He knocks on your door, freshly having concluded this week's teaching.

Still in his Gi, jacket slung over his shoulders.

He did that on purpose, to make it seem like him coming here wasn't premeditated or something he tactically prepared for in advance, but rather, like a last minute decision he made in the utmost rush to the degree he didn't even have time to change out of his training attire, forgetful, overworked old man that he is. -"Who’s there!?"- Your concerned, slightly confused voice calls from the other end and he hears the keyhole clicking, only for your uncertain face to show up in the precipice of the doorframe illuminated by the warm light of your apartment's foyer looming like a halo behind you, brows practically jumping once you recognized him, appearing relieved. -"Sensei Silver!?"- You state in surprise, opening the door entirely, letting him step over the threshold, moving out of the way to usher him inside from the corridor. He tries not to seem too familiar with the territory, pretending not to know exactly where to stand; next to the shoe rack or the coat hanger. -"God. I’m so sorry. Got scared halfway to death!"- You place your hand over your chest, exhaling and smiling. Way too fidgety for someone who took Tang Soo Do classes. What were you afraid of? Of someone barging in and subduing you? -"What do I owe the honor of the visit! I didn’t expect anyone."- You shake your head, all charm. Of course he prepared an excuse for him being here and it comes in a form of a sleek pamphlet he produces from inside of his jacket, handing it to you. He had it printed, in bulk and giving out to everyone at the dojo solely so he could have a reason to give you one to you as well. -"The curriculum. For our future classes. I thought you might wanna look through it. Freshly printed."- Terry explains. He hoped you would've continued showing up, smart mouth you always were, but there you went, disappearing. If Muhammad wouldn't come to the mountain, the mountain would have to come to Muhammad.

-"You missed the last session so I brought it over personally. Where'd you go?"-

Terry feigns concern. He knew where you went. You were pegged down a notch.

Proceeded retreating with your tail behind your legs.

That's what you get for questioning him.

But, he didn't expect you to retreat quite so definitely.

Who'd you ask if you can do that? Did you ask anyone? Him?

You eyelashes flutter, like you were about to come up with an excuse.

-"I think you're right, Sensei. I mean, the whole Cobra Kai dojo scene, ---"-

You begin, looking away from him, vehemently staring at the pattern on the corridor carpet, holding the flyer with a sense of unease, like you weren't certain what to do with it. If you crumpled it up, he'd make you eat it. -"It ain't for me. I'm not cut out for it."- You confess, finally meeting his gaze, appearing a bit shy at the notion. He knew a tangent was incoming. Decides to let you have it. And knowing you, you wouldn't shut up any time soon in the next five minutes. -"I can't do any of those things you demonstrated last week. Break my bones on purpose? Smash through rocks? Ignore pain? I know when I'm out of my depth and there's no shame in admitting something ain't for me and gracefully moving on. What you said the last time --- you helped me see that. You really did."- You utter, in one solitary breath, and it takes everything within Terry not to laugh at you. So, humiliating in front of the whole class for interrupting him for the umpteenth time with some inane observation, you thought it was for your own good and that it made you see things more clearly? What? Was that why you left his dojo like it was a bus station? Did you really take up knitting as a hobby in the meantime as well? -"I had a great time studying these past few months under you, but I just can't continue."- You visibly gulp once he says nothing and you feel incentivized to further explain. You never had a problem with that before. Go ahead. He was giving you center stage to speak. So speak. -"I talk back. I interrupt. I question. I worry. I'm so sorry. I can't just let go and do it. Do what I'm supposed to do on the mat."- You add, your eyes widening, perhaps in anxiety, pupils dilating, looking back and forth between the surrounding furniture and the wall --- anywhere but at him. Why should he let you go? When it was so fun pushing your buttons? In fact, he decides you could use some more of that.

-"Do you like me?'-

He asks, bluntly. You take a step back, stammering.

-"Excuse me, sir?"-

-"I said, do you like me?"- He repeats himself, firmer.

Your mouth wordlessly forms a shape, but no sound comes forth.

You weren't certain what to say.

Finally.

You were speechless for once. That was a welcoming novelty.

-"Because, if you like me, you won't leave me here stranded, with one student less and waltz out impulsively, on such a short notice. That's not how things work. There's a price for that."-

He winds you up, deciding to stoke a fire and then immediately extinguish it, intending to fluster you for thinking what he led you to think, watching the abject shame settle into your expression like a newly formed wrinkle just because for a mere second, you thought this was a confession of something more than it was instead of a cleverly phrased and deliberately misguiding segway intended to put you on the spot and make you feel like an idiot with no listening comprehension. -"I'll pay everything I still own and ---"- You practically stumble over your words, clutching the pamphlet to your chest vigorously, like a shield, referencing unpaid lesson, trying to regain what little balance you had, visibly sweating bullets. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Terry steps forward, shutting you up. Commanding you to stay silent. -"Don't talk."- He orders, flatly, putting up his hand alongside his finger as a warning and then coming closer still, until the tip of it is practically pushing against your mouth. You appeared flaggerbasted. Like you weren't sure what was going on, too shocked to actually move. This was why confusing people into a state of paralytic awkwardness was paramount in verbal warfare. He pushed his index finger between your lips and you still didn't move, letting him get away with it, too stunned for words. -"For once, listen. Don't speak."- He murmurs, staring at your mouth, pushing his nail inside, feeling your wetness and finding your tongue, frozen stiff, clasping it with his thumb and index finger and holding it, pulling on it, until you groaned, trying to mutely gibber and failing. -"This is the thing that always talked back. Can't talk back anymore, can it?"- He taunts and you shake your head with an expression that would place deer in headlights to shame, shivering vigorously.

You've seen what his hands could do. What his fists could do.

He could rip your tongue out of your skull and it would pose little issue.

He felt you knew that right about now.

Practically dangled by the tip of your mouth's organ. Your head slumping back.

Unable to release yourself, you slowly lower yourself, to your knees.

-"That's good."- Terry coos, pleased, watching you drool all over his hand.

-"Open that pretty little mouth of yours and use it for something really valuable for a change."-

He purrs, even as his fingers go fidgeting, lower his Gi's trousers, loosening the obi around his waist, pulling his cock out of his briefs, showcasing it to you so the state of the situation would settle in. He'd hatefuck your mouth. He was already hard. Already dripping precum. Almost like the very act of coming here and pestering you served to do it for him as he, without much deliberation, pushed himself inside of your lips, taking in the sloppy, receptive moisture, enjoying the symbolism of the flyer he's given you falling next to you on the floorboard until you were practically kneeling atop of it. -"Perfect."- He hums, praising. -"You've been badgering and badgering and I can't tell you how many times I thought about interrupting class and just giving it to you, in front of everyone, right there, in the middle of the dojo. Let them all see what happens when someone questions Terry Silver and his methods."- Now it was his turn to make some confessions, fingers tangling into your hair, coiling into a fist, making you look at him with your watering, teary eyes. He amps up his pace, bobbing your head back and forth for you, using your tresses as reins. Look how you've infected him. Now he was the one rambling and loving it. -"But, I wanted the occasion to be something special. Someplace I could really savor it --- and what better place than right under your very own roof."- He closes his eyes, smiling, enjoying the sensation of tense pleasure building up in his gut, right before looking down at you with your brows furrowed. You were just now realizing this was premeditated. Poor you. -"Oh, don't look at me like that. Don't think I haven't been in here before. Been here a thousand times."- He chuckles into his own chin, moaning. Of course he's desecrated something miniscule every time you talked back as an elaborate form of revenge and violation, like wiping his cock on the curtain after masturbating on your bed. Nothing was for free. Disrespect certainly wasn't.

-"And you'll be seeing a lot more of me just yet. Don't think this is over. Don't think you can disassociating with Cobra Kai and me on a whim. You can't."-

He flat out threatens, his hips rutting vigorously against your head.

You thought this was a game?

You sign up to his dojo for like six months and call it quits when things get hard?

Cobra Kai was a brotherhood. A society. Not an extracurricular pastime or a hobby.

That's what people weren't getting. He didn't want them to just yet.

But you? He'd was breaking the news to you hard and fast in the flesh.

-"You belonged to me from the moment you met me and put on the Gi and you'll belong to me until your dying breath."-

He grits his teeth, shaking, seething, feeling his tresses slide out of his ponytail and unto his forehead in an unruly mess, satisfaction coiling in his groin imaging you returning to the dojo on Monday, dressed in your uniform, all neat and proper, your attitude curbed and kept only for special occasions, releasing suddenly, just at the thought that he owned you, hearing you gurgle from the floor, droplets of his cum trickling down your chin and leaking unto the Cobra Kai pamphlet on the parquet in front of you. No, no. That wouldn't do. Not a single ounce wasted. -"Swallow."- Terry orders, catching his breath, scrutinizing you as you did so, still holding your hair, yanking forward suddenly, his cock falling out of your mouth, giving you leeway to breathe again and you do, gasping with sharp inhales of breath, a bubble of saliva popping between your lips as you rolled back to sob and cough. Pathetic. Eager to serve. So you were capable of shutting the fuck up, letting go and getting lost in an action after all? You were teachable. He knew you would be. Much like the rock slab on the training dummy, though, you needed to be broken in first. Terry slides his hand across the top of his head, slicking loose hair strands back, lifting up his finger to threaten and warn once again. Remind, in case you've forgotten. Had your brains scrambled in all sorts of awkward and unlikely directions. -"So, you better not miss out on any of my classes ever again or I'll have a reason to hold a very, very big grudge. Especially if you don't show up and break that stone like I've taught everyone to do. Understood?"-

-"Yes, Sensei."- You manage desperately, drooling, nodding your head.

#terry silver #old man terry #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; dubious consent #tw; teacher and student #tw; facefucking #tw; hatefucking #tw; stalking #tw; manipulating #tw; mind games #tw; all the warnings