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@theartofmadeline
Cosmic Funnies
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Acquired Stardust

roma★
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Misplaced Lens Cap

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occasionally subtle
ojovivo
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Andulka
Jules of Nature

oozey mess
hello vonnie
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

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@cornerlipscar
🪽 . . .⠀⠀꒰ #sillymasterlist ꒱
甚尔脱鞋:脚有点累了 / @/fff39454482
do you still take requests ?
i do! i actually have quite a lot in my drafts that i really need to get into... i've just been really unmotivated, especially now after i just went through a break-up with someone i love so, so much : ( but i'm trying so hard to get back into writing as a distraction, hence my higuruma one-shot! feel free to send in anything because it'll sure be nice, too. i'll make sure to post everyone's requests as soon as i can
you're not the only one who's tired, hiromi.
tags: angst, mentioned nsfw, quick one-shot
one of the hardest things of being in a relationship with hiromi higuruma was the gap that even love couldn't fill.
in all honesty, you were happy. hiromi, while not perfect, does his best. he is not flashy with his affection, doesn't really shower you with gifts, and you were fine with that. it's not like he was completely indifferent to the idea of doing such things, no. he does when the event calls for it.
over time, it became easier for you to accept that the quiet and stable love that came with your fiancé was the type of love for you. where there is love, there is peace.
but, of course, not all relationships are without its challenges.
hiromi, without really meaning to, patronizes you.
you stay quiet when it stings. you force a smile when you hear how unintentionally dismissive he is. because he means well. of course he does. you've been with him for six years already. he loves you more than anything, and he never fails to remind you that.
"it's just been too much," you admit to him one night in bed, finally breaking down as you tell him about everything. about work, about your deadlines, about everything that's been weighing down on you. and he listens, without question, as he holds you against his chest and kisses the top of your head in the silence of your shared bedroom.
he rubs his palm against your side, his other hand cupping the back of your head and keeping you against his chest. love. comfort. empathy.
"maybe what you need to do is take on lesser things off your schedule and rest," he finally speaks, his tone the same you hear from when he talks on his phone with his clients. "you just need rest. that's all."
really? that's all?
"but hiromi..." you croak, pulling your head away slightly enough so you could look up at him. "our anniversary is on the day of one of my meetings, and... and i don't want to not celebrate it or go on whatever date you had planned..."
hiromi shrugs. then offers an awkward, small smile.
"i have court that day. i guess i already ruined our anniversary, anyway," he replies as a joke. a stupid, dry joke that is exactly hiromi higuruma.
perhaps it was meant to bring you comfort. or maybe to lessen the burden off your shoulders. because you know, after all these years, that everything hiromi does is only to make you happy.
but despite all that, it still felt like an echo chamber. and it was tiring.
---
"i'm tired."
the words broke through the usual silence over your dinner table, where all you had spread was the takeout you had asked for hiromi to bring home.
he looks up from his food, chopstick mid-air as he was about to take a bite, before he put it down beside his own plate. he grabbed the pitcher from the middle of the table, and he fills your half empty glass before filling his own.
"hm?" he hums, raising an eyebrow at you. "do you want to head to bed first?"
you sigh. heavily.
"hiromi..."
you place down your own utensils as well without so much as a lift of your chin off the plain white plate. the same set of plates that you two had bought from when you first moved in together. he was only still in law school then, having bought the set with what money he had left after buying codals and paying for law school.
"it's all i could do for now," he says with that awkward, sheepish smile of his as he showed you the box where the plate set came in.
you remember pulling him into your arms back then, much to his shock. but he, of course, recovered quickly, before locking his lips with yours.
you two had made love the whole night. his hands, calloused from holding pens and heavy books, knew exactly what places to put love in, to put attention in.
his lips had barely left your skin, too — only ever leaving when he had to pull away to switch your positions when you complained about being too tired.
everything was ecstasy.
"thank you," you whispered against his skin, your body exhausted from hours of worship and pleasure from your boyfriend.
"for what, my love?" he asks, his voice low and almost breathless. but even then, he manages to maneuver your position enough so he could kiss your forehead.
"for giving what you can and making me happy," you reply, your eyes starting to feel heavy.
you couldn't hear it through the haze of your exhaustion, but you could feel his chest moving, which was enough of an indication that you made him chuckle.
you made him chuckle!
"you're just tired, my love. it's nothing," he mumbles, and he doesn't say anything more until you fall asleep.
silence.
"but... you are welcome," he says, after a few minutes of his earlier words. "i'm trying my best."
"but i'm tired, hiromi! of everything! not just your... your stupid responses, but of everything! and you can't even fucking empathize! all you do is solve, kiss, and tell me to rest, and that's it!" you shout, your voice cracking as you pushed yourself up off the dinner table, the plates clattering from your movement. you bury your face in your own hands, your shoulders shaking as you tried to calm down.
but you couldn't. everything was coming out. years of pent-up frustration, of sting that rolled into wires, of patronizing that felt like being sidelined.
"sit down, and let's talk about this." hiromi stands up from his own chair, walking over to you and putting his hands on your shoulders.
you shrug him off in repulse.
in the reflection of the fridge, you see his expression crumble.
"this isn't fair," he mumbles through the silence that dawned over you two. you don't say anything.
"i'm tired, too, but i don't take it out on our relationship, right?"
your mouth opens. and closes. you struggled to find what to say next.
"that's different," you say, your voice cracking. "i do everything to make you feel better when you're tired."
"then why is it all of a sudden my fault that you never told me how you've been feeling all these years?" he snaps, his words like a whip. "if you could've told me, i would've fucking done something! every time we have disagreements, i apologize and try to do better! why are you taking it out on us?!"
you should have had an answer to that.
but you didn't.
you were just tired. it felt heavy. you felt guilty.
but you couldn't set it aside anymore.
it just wasn't working anymore. all because you tried to adjust and keep quiet because you felt the need to do so.
but was it so bad of you to expect your fiancé and partner of six years to know exactly what you needed, too?
is a villain necessary when you're both just tired?
it would've been better if the situation where you and hiromi would have to ask those questions never came... but it did. it wasn't working anymore.
---
hiromi moves out of your shared apartment in a week.
in the process of packing his things for his move, he approaches you and sits down next to you, the sound of the couch creaking under his weight.
you felt a lump in your throat when you saw him pull out a red box. inside were the wedding rings you two had picked.
"keep it," he says quietly, putting the box in your trembling palm. "and do whatever you want it. just... take care of yourself. that's all i'll ever ask of you."
a/n: went through a rough break-up and prelims so i had to force myself to write 😅 lmk how u guys like this! how did you feel about lawyer man's anime debut?
i've been really meaning to write, but nothing's been coming to mind as of late ... if anyone out there wants to make requests — both nsfw and sfw are fine — feel free to leave a request in my inbox ! i'll do my best to find the time and put it out as soon as anyone sends anything in. if you're unsure about what i usually write or have questions, feel free to ask or check out my pinned masterlist as a reference ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )
bf!sukuna hates going to the mall with you
cw: x fem reader, semi-public sex, degradation kink, jealous sukuna, mirror sex, make-shift gag, slight mindbreak, humiliation kink if you squint, no use of yn, edging... (?)
"baby, what do you think of this?" you turn to ask sukuna, who hasn't shut up about how he hates going to the mall and walking around stores just for you to not get anything.
you stare at him, waiting for him to say something, but all your stupid boyfriend does is glance at the shirt, click his tongue, and then look back down on his phone.
absolutely childish. pathetic!
you shot him a glare, your eyebrows pinched together as you waited for him to say something, but he doesn't, just like the petty man he was. so, instead of waiting for nothing, you turn to the closest person around you besides sukuna — which turns out to be a guy who was just passing by the rack you were looking through.
"hey, mister," you call out to the stranger, who stops in his tracks and turns to look at you with a slightly surprised expression. "i'm really sorry for bothering you, but i just need a second opinion on this shirt... i really like the color, but i'm not sure if it'll look good on me."
before the guy could even answer, a shadow momentarily looms over you. you barely had the time to hear his answer when your wrist gets grabbed and you're dragged towards an empty fitting room, sukuna locking the flimsy door behind him.
"you need to stop playing this type of shit on me," he hisses against your ear. he doesn't give you time to answer before he's turning your body around, forcing you to look at the large body mirror against the wall.
"sukuna-"
"shut your fucking mouth if y'know what's good for you," he cuts you off, and he places a hand on your upper back and forces your body to lean forward, until both your hands were pressed against the mirror. the fitting room was extremely cramped as well, which didn't allow much movement from either of you.
but sukuna can make it work.
"you're an idiot," you hiss back at him, trying to keep your voice low as he flips your skirt up and slaps your cunt from under. "i swear, if we get caught-"
"then shut up already if you don't wanna get caught," he says, a finger pressing on the crotch area of your panties which makes you gasp. you immediately slap a hand onto your mouth, glaring at sukuna through your reflection as you feel your knees weaken.
"besides," he drawls as he pushes your panties down until it rested around your ankles. "you're already wet, baby," he adds, his fingers now slowly dragging between your folds, getting soaked with your wetness.
"unless you got wet talking to that nobody over there?" his other hand was already unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. you could already feel the tent of his cock against your ass, your heart stammering as you realized your boyfriend was really going to fuck you in a fitting room.
"'s that it, you little slut?" he asks as he pushes his boxers down until his cock was free, the tip already oozing with pre-cum and so, so hard that it could almost align itself against your exposed hole.
he grabs the base of his thick girth, pushing the tip inside without warning. another gasp escapes your lips, your fingers already curling and trembling against the mirror.
when you sputter through your words as he pushes himself even deeper, sukuna's hold on your hips tighten as he grabs the tube top you wanted to get and forces the pathetic piece of fabric into your mouth.
"fucking hell, it barely covers your tits," he comments, his voice almost mocking if you didn't already know him well enough to recognize the disapproval in his voice. not that you could actually say anything as your drool starts to get absorbed by the cloth.
you barely get the moment to pull out the tube top from your mouth when he bottoms out immediately, causing you to loose balance if it were not for your hold against the mirror. your eyes roll back as you feel the tip kiss your cervix, and when he moves slowly, experimentally — one time, two times, three — until he realizes that you're already fucked out just by him dragging his cock against your walls, he slowly pulls out his dick, until the tip was the only part left inside...
and he slams back inside of you and starts thrusting harshly.
"fuck, is this what you wanted? huh?" he breathes out in between short huffs, his left hand wrapping around your hair as he pulls your head back.
all you could do was mewl against the piece of clothing, tears starting to form in your eyes with each thrust because it felt so, so, so good, and you were so angry at your stupid boyfriend for being petty and being so selfish and being so. fucking. big.
your brain was already imagining the stares after you two leave the dressing room, because your boyfriend was not exactly being discreet with the sounds of skin slapping whenever he would go all in on his thrusts.
gosh, it was a good thing this was one of those stores that didn't have any employees and only had a self checkout counter.
when sukuna notices how your legs were starting to split and your feet were slipping apart, he hooks an arm under your hips to pull you back up. a breathy chuckle leaves his mouth when he notices how that seemed to got you clenching around his cock, realizing that his forearm was pressing against your lower belly.
"you can't even pretend to hate this," he mocks, looking at your reflection as tears were now completely flowing down your cheeks. cute. "you love my cock, baby? is that why you talked to that guy? you wanted my attention?"
you whimper against the make-shift gag, shaking your head weakly. but of course, he ignores it, tightening his hold around your lower tummy again.
"it's alright, baby. we both know you're nothing but desperate for a fuck wherever we go," he replies, using that annoyingly sweet tone that grates your nerves. but you don't even get to glare at him, because he's already moving his hand around your hips downwards, until his thumb was pressing against your clit.
"you wanna come, you little whore?" you nod frantically.
his thrusts were getting sloppier, which you already knew was a sign that he was close. he meets your eyes through your reflection, and you watch despite your tears as a smirk slowly grew on his lips.
"stupid. what makes you think you deserve to feel good?"
sukuna doesn't stop as he cums inside your cunt. you let out a muffled gasp as you feel his cum fill you completely. he stops his thrusts while he was completely inside, before he slowly pulls out.
you start to whine against the tube top. he spanks your pussy to shut you up, wanting to watch his cum drip out of your hole without your pathetic mewls and begging.
he reaches over to pull out the crop top from your mouth, and the second it was out, you cough and try to wipe the drool that trickled down the corner of your lips.
he was already tucking himself back into his boxers when you were done.
"fix yourself up and wipe the cum off your thighs," he grumbles, reaching out to cup your face and kiss your temple. you glare at him from the corner of your eyes, which he found amusing.
"you didn't even let me cum," you whisper sadly. sukuna rolls his eyes.
"yeah? punishments aren't supposed to feel good. search it up," he replies, ignoring the way you started weakly hitting his chest with your fists.
"let's get outta here. i'll pay for whatever you wanna buy next."
an: once again, fun! sukuna is fun. let me know what you guys think about this one haha ... (˶˃⤙˂˶)
HAPPY NEW YEAR, MY NEW LOVE. I hope we can be more friends in the future. We have a long way to go, but I already adore you so much. I love you, and I hope this year treat you like a queen this year, because that's what you are 💘.
happy new year, lovely!!! thank you for being such a nice friend. ily!
lessons in discipline, pt. ii
cw: nsfw (smut. minors dni), x fem reader, age gap, professor x student, oral (m receiving), name-calling (degradation kink), manhandling, no use of yn
please read the first part before continuing with the story below. thank you, and let me know if you like it!
word count: 3,800
Your feet carry you across campus on muscle memory alone, past buildings you've started to associate with deadlines and fluorescent exhaustion. By the time you reach the law department, your chest feels tight in a way that has nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with restraint.
Higuruma's office door is open when you arrive. He looks up from his screen when you knock, brow lifting slightly in quiet acknowledgment rather than surprise. He has always been like this. Observant without prying.
“You're back earlier than I expected,” he says, closing the folder in front of him. “Is everything alright?”
You step inside and close the door behind you. The question sits between you longer than it should. You take a breath, careful to keep it steady.
“Atty. Higuruma, I… I wanted to talk to you about my workload.”
That gets his full attention. He gestures to the chair across from his desk without interrupting, posture relaxed but alert, like he already knows this isn't about poor time management alone. You sit.
“I just had a meeting with one of my professors. That's the reason I, uh… suddenly left,” you continue. Your hands fold in your lap, fingers pressed together to keep them from trembling. “It didn't… go well.”
Higuruma does not react immediately. He waits, putting down the fountain pen he'd just been using before you arrived
“I'm falling behind in one of my major courses,” you admit. Saying it out loud makes your throat tighten, but you push through - even if the image of Professor Kento keeps appearing in your mind. “It's… it's not because I've been careless or anything… I mean, maybe I have been, at least partly... but mostly because I've been stretched thinner than I expected.”
He exhales quietly through his nose, gaze sharpening in a way that isn't judgmental, only analytical. Like he was itching to just tell you that this problem could've been prevented from the get-go.
“I told you,” he says calmly, “that if this internship ever interfered with your studies, we would adjust.”
“I know,” you say. “That's why… I'm here now. I should have said something sooner.”
A pause.
Then, carefully, “What are you asking for?”
You lift your eyes to meet his. “For the next few weeks, I need a reduced workload. Fewer evening events. Earlier cutoffs, if possible. Just until I stabilize.”
Higuruma leans back in his chair, fingers steepled. He studies you with the same precision he uses when reviewing a case file, but there is something softer threaded through it now.
“Did your professor suggest this?” he asks.
“No,” you answer honestly. “This is my decision.”
Another silence. This one feels different - almost considered.
“I can restructure your assignments,” he says at last. “No conventions for the remainder of the month. You'll stay strictly within office hours. Anything that runs late will be reassigned. For now, that is the best I can do. I can't be offering unfair treatment to you just because another professor gave you a dressing down.”
Relief loosens something in your chest before you can stop it. “Thank you,” you say quietly.
Higuruma watches you for a moment longer, then adds, “You're doing well here. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. And don't mistake endurance for obligation.”
The words land heavier than you expect.
You nod, standing as the meeting concludes, feeling steadier than you did an hour ago. As you reach the door, his voice stops you once more.
“Where are you going?” He asks, reaching for an envelope at the side of his mahogany table. You recognize it as the same envelope which held the contract about being a teacher's assistant. The contract he wanted you to review and sign, if it piques your interest, as he so offered it earlier. “Was your request an indirect rejection of my offer?”
You shook your head no. You totally forgot about it at that point, with your heart still pounding heavily. You weren't even sure if you were in the right headspace to accept the position. Your brain was completely filled with the lingering fear of failing your economics course, as well as the impending doom of having to face Professor Kento by next week.
“Don't worry,” he says, as if he already knew you wouldn't be able to decide at all at that moment. “You can just review it right now and decide some other time. It will be best that you do it here, too - just so I can answer any questions of yours in real time.”
“I… okay. Thank you, Attorney,” you finally reply, before heading back to where you sat earlier and putting your bag down on the floor. For a moment, you could feel him just staring at you - whether it was because he was trying to read you or judge you, you could not guess.
After a moment, though, he pulls his gaze away and slides the envelope towards you from across the expensive surface.
“Before you open that,” he interjects just as you were about to reach for the envelope, his hands neatly folded on the desk. “May I ask which professor you met with? You don't have to answer if you'd rather not say, of course.”
You ponder for a moment, trying to decide whether it's fine for Higuruma to know. While they both are department heads who work closely together, surely, it wouldn't matter if Higuruma knows. It probably wouldn't be the first time, too.
“It's actually Professor Kento, Atty. Higuruma. Nanami Kento.”
Pause. He looks at you, right eyebrow raising just slightly. If Nanami's been teaching here for more than ten years, Higuruma's been here for almost fifteen.
In all those years, Higuruma cannot remember for the life of him that his colleague ever allowed a failing student a chance to retake any of his past quizzes or exams. It was a disgustingly clean record that Nanami had, compared to him or even other professors in the university.
“If this… professor becomes an obstacle rather than a mentor,” he says evenly, “you tell me.”
You hesitate.
Then, you nod with a smile that cracked under its own weight.
“I will.”
—
After coming home to your dorm and dragging yourself to change out of your clothes and remove your make-up, you finally plop down onto your bed, your face buried against your pillow.
On your walk back here from Mr. Higuruma's office, you felt your eyes sting and the familiar lump in your throat. But you did your best to at least keep it in until you get back to the privacy of your own room. But now that you are alone, the waterworks that you tried so hard to suppress…
Doesn't come out at all.
That frustrates you more.
You start to wriggle and groan, kicking your legs like a toddler as you scream against your sheets. Back when you were still a freshman, you told yourself you wouldn't beat yourself up if ever came a time that you failed a course subject. That you can always retake it. But for some reason, now that it is finally happening, all the pep talk you did inside your head just seemed silly.
Economics would've been an easy course to pass if, perhaps, you never took that internship.
Perhaps it would've been easier for you to accept your own shortcomings if it weren't for the look of disappointment in Professor Kento's face.
It wasn't helping how your brain kept repeating the words, 'I'm disappointed in you' in his voice. He didn't even say that!
The whole night after you come home to your dorm, you manage to at least move your thumb that had been scrolling all day on TikTok, and click your email for any new assignments. You double check, just in case you had other professors trying to get you to go to their office to discuss your below academic standard performance.
But there were none.
You grab the hem of your blanket, pulling it up over your head as you close your eyes and try to get enough sleep for tomorrow. It'll be your first proper one after Mr. Higuruma sent you home earlier without any files to study, saying it is the start of agreement you two had.
But even now that you have no workload to think of for the rest of the night, you didn't get to sleep well at all.
—
Nanami notices the shift.
The next day, after the meeting he had with you in his office, he noticed how you were one of the students who came in early. You were already in the lecture hall ten minutes before class.
He also noticed how you've actually been submitting your homework on or before the deadline.
But, as any professor who actually takes his job seriously, submissions done for the sake of submitting something is not something he finds any sort of amusement in.
He'd done his best, really. His best, without actually giving you any special treatment, of course. All you had to do was go back to giving the same performance you did from the start, but perhaps that was too much, even for you.
It was laughable.
Insulting.
Nanami had half the mind to directly knock fuck some sense into you, but you are, after all, already old enough.
If self-discipline had to be imposed on you, then academia was likely never the right place to begin with.
That was how Nanami found himself back in his office a week later, the echo of his own words lingering as he lay back in his chair, a towel folded neatly over his face while he waited for you.
—
You were struck by deja vu by what greets you when you open the door.
Professor Kento fixes his position, taking the towel off of his face and folding it neatly before he places it on the side.
You sit down this time without being told.
Nanami's expression flickers, just enough to register the break in routine, before it smooths back into something cool and controlled.
“I've reviewed your recent attendance,” he says without greeting whatsoever, fingers laced together on the desk. “And while it has improved… your submissions have not.”
Your stomach tightens.
“You've continued to submit work that is rushed,” he continues evenly. “Underdeveloped. Below the standard you've demonstrated in the past.”
“Professor, I've actually been restructuring my schedule,” you say. “I told you I was—”
“And yet,” he interrupts, “the quality has remained subpar.”
The word lands hard.
You straighten. “Subpar?”
“Yes,” he says without hesitation. “Your attendance alone does not compensate for careless analysis and incomplete arguments.”
You breathe in slowly through your nose, forcing your voice to stay level. “I've been turning everything in on time.”
“Timeliness is not the issue, miss,” he replies. “Competence is.”
That does it.
“I adjusted my workload,” you say, louder now. “I cut back. I stopped attending evening events. I fixed the problem.”
“You fixed part of it,” he counters. “And it's clearly not enough.”
You let out a short, incredulous laugh. Who does he think he is? Why is he suddenly so… annoying?!
“So what, then? You want me to do what exactly? Drop everything else that actually matters to me?” You ask, your chest starting to heave despite your efforts to calm yourself down.
“My class should matter to you,” he says coolly.
“It does!” you snap. “But it doesn't get to be the only thing in my life just because you say so!”
Your hands curl against your knees.
His gaze sharpens. “Lower your voice.”
“No!” you say immediately. “This is… insane! You don't get to talk to me like I'm incapable,” you continue, heat flushing your face now. “I've owned my mistakes. I made changes. And you keep moving the goalpost and calling it standards.”
He shifts in his chair, just staring up - or down - at you from where he sat. He unclasps his fingers, shifting forward as he finally stands up from his chair. But he doesn't cross the distance between you two.
Not yet.
He doesn't trust himself to not cross anything more once you're close enough to grab.
To tame.
“You're being disrespectful.”
“And you're being unfair,” you fire back. “If my work is weaker, it's because I was exhausted and you refused to listen. Not because I don't understand the material.”
Silence stretches.
Your voice is still raised when you finish, but it's steady.
“So if you called me in here to tell me I'm failing no matter what I do, just say that. But don't pretend this is about quality when you never gave me the chance to recover it,” you hiss between gritted teeth, before suddenly standing up and grabbing your bag from the floor.
"Where are you going?” He asks, and you can almost, almost hear the simmering anger amidst the confusion in his tone. "We're not done here, sweetheart.”
"I am going to Mr. Higuruma's office, and I will tell him about this ridiculous power trip you're playing at," you reply, even though your heart just kept pounding faster and faster as a part of your brain kept questioning where the hell you were getting the guts to disrespect your professor when you're already at the brink of getting dropped!
“What?" He asks almost incredulously, his own voice starting to rise as well. "What's that sanctimonious bureaucrat got to do with any of this? Don't tell me that glorified supervisor's already got you under his savior complex."
"Oh, that's creative, Professor Kento!” you snort, rolling your eyes at him as you turn your back and head towards the door. "I'll make sure to pass on your regards to him, then!” you add as you reach for the doorknob.
But before you could even touch the metal orb, you get pulled off the ground. You stumble on your own feet, feeling the tight grip on your wrist being the only thing to actually keep you up. Before you could even speak, Professor Kento lets go of your wrist only to place the same hand on your right shoulder, pushing you down onto the floor until you were on your knees.
A gasp leaves your throat when he suddenly grabs you by your hair, wrapping the strands around his knuckle until it was tight enough to pull your head back. Your hands grab at the one gripping your hair, trying to pry it off, but even both your hands weren't enough to move at least one finger from the knuckle grip he had on you.
“Tell me again, sweetheart," he says, his voice sending a wave of dread throughout your body as you dare to look up at him through your lashes. “Who's the one asking for favors here? Is it me?"
Silence. You could feel your eyes start to sting, your body trembling and your knees hurting from how you were kneeling. You would like to think that it was an act of mercy that Professor Kento forced you onto your knees by the area of his office floor that was covered with a carpet.
You would like to think that that act really was an act of mercy, because your body was betraying you. You could feel your own panties starting to dampen as he forced you to keep your gaze up at him, your lips parting with a soft whimper when he suddenly tugged on your hair due to your silence.
“I asked you a question," he mutters, his own chest starting to heave under the neatly ironed button-up he wore.
Despite the situation at hand, you never realized how well-built he was under all the formal shirts and suits he wore during lectures.
You never really dared to look at him that way…
Now, you doubt you could ever look at Professor Kento any other way again.
“Professor, this is… I don't…” you stutter, words failing you at that very moment as you try to say 'This isn't right! This is a violation! Mr. Higuruma will get your ass for me!'
Oh, but your pussy was doing all the thinking now.
—
This was exactly what he feared.
This was exactly what didn't want to happen when you stepped into his office earlier. He'd done his best since the last time - when you last visited his office, looking like a lost kitten in his office. It was a natural bait for someone looking for prey.
Nanami Kento prided himself as someone with more self control than the average person. He sees reason, and only ever pushes through with dropping a student from his class if he sees no improvement in them.
But never has he ever had a student raise their voice at him.
In his own office.
Nor has he ever had a student follow all that act up with a threat to report him to his own colleague.
You were all levels of ridiculous. From your misplaced confidence, your audacity, as well as the way you parted your lips at that moment, panting and struggling in his hold like you weren't asking for this with your display of attitude.
“Don't act obtuse,” he almost spat, his voice dripping with barely contained anger. “Sweetheart, you were asking for it at this point.”
You shake your head at him, but you say nothing to protest, even then.
It was disgusting how obvious you were.
Nanami had his own back-and-forth with the moralities of a situation like this, especially after he got that fucking hard-on from your last visit. He still stands by his own conviction that it is wrong - bribery, relationships with a student outside of the academy whether romantic or purely sexual, it is all still very wrong to him. Even until now.
But he is your professor. It is within his responsibilities to teach students.
—
If earlier, you weren't able to say anything out of shock and reluctant arousal from the way Professor Kento loomed over and handled you… now, you really couldn't say anything with his thick cock sliding down your throat.
Your hands tried to hold onto his thick thighs for support - which, again, was something you never really noticed nor appreciated until now - but it was no use. Each force of his thrusts drove your head back against his grip on your hair, and even when you tried to get him to slow down by tightening your hold around his thigh, he only went faster until you were drooling from the corner of your mouth.
“Now you're not talking shit, huh?” He mumbles in between short breaths, pulling his cock out of your mouth to slap the tip on your tongue. You kept it flat, sticking it out of your mouth as he kept letting his pre-cum pool over the surface of it. You could taste the saltiness of it, and yet, you couldn't bring yourself to complain as well.
He brought his free hand to your jaw, gripping it until you couldn't close your mouth. Your eyes, dazed and half-lidded, could only stare at him through your lashes as he bends down just slightly to spit in your mouth.
When he lets go of your jaw, you swallow his spit and pre-cum without question.
The smirk that grows on his lips didn't go unnoticed by you.
That smirk only grew into a whole grin when you opened your mouth immediately for him after swallowing.
Fuck.
How can one man make you debase yourself so quickly?
But the Professor didn't give you much time to think about it as he pushes his length down your throat almost immediately after.
The grip on your hair kept you in place as Nanami fucked your throat, the normally quiet office now filled with the disgusting squelch your throat was making as it accommodated his size, along with his grunts and the soft ticking of the clock against the wall.
“Mm, shit… you're less insufferable when you're gagging 'round your…” thrust. “... professor's cock. Keeps you shut up, huh?” He breathes out mockingly, but you could only gag around him, trying to keep your jaw lax enough for him. Your hand starts to move from his thigh to his balls as it keeps slapping on your chin. He watches with pinched eyebrows, his pace momentarily getting messed up when you suddenly fondle.
That does it for him.
His thrusts were still fast, gagging you each time, but it was getting sloppier.
Nanami could feel the familiar coil in his lower stomach. He groans under his breath, cursing at how good - how great your little throat felt. It was warm, wet, and it kept you from saying anything more disrespectful bullshit and less of that fucker, Higuruma.
“Swallow it down, you bratty little slut," he mutters with a lazy smirk. Without warning, he pushes your whole head down to take his whole girth. The vibration of the gag you did around his dick immediately sent shivers throughout his system, and he finally cums.
You couldn't move your head at all. Your nose was pressed against his pubes as he spilled everything down your throat, and you had no choice but to swallow everything as he ordered.
When he finally finishes, he slowly pulls out of your mouth, panting heavily as he looks down at you. Compared to him, the one who actually came, you looked more fucked out than he did.
Well, that was the plan, anyway. Professor Kento gave you a very good lesson.
—
“Professor Kento," you call out to him, your voice rasped from all the abuse your throat took from him.
For all the yelling you did at him earlier, he managed to make sure you wouldn't be able to raise your voice again for at least the rest of the week.
He grunted in response as he grabbed another paper from the pile he was grading. After what happened, he told you to rest and lie down on the couch by the wall here in his office.
Of course, you accepted the offer.
"Uh… after what… happened…” you begin, your words starting to betray you again as you try to formulate your question. “I… I mean, does it mean that…”
Professor Kento puts down the paper he was grading, lifting his gaze as he sits back on his chair and crosses his arms.
"Sweetheart,” he drawls, shaking his head as if he was disappointed in you. "I do not do sexual favors in exchange for passing grades.”
Your jaw drops at the floor.
And here you were, hoping that it was already part of the package deal!
"But,” he cuts you off before you could even protest. "Perhaps… I could let you retake your failed quizzes this midterm. As long as you do it here in my office, of course."
thank you all so much for those who waited! it took me a really long time to write this because i didn't know how or where to pick it off, but hopefully, it does its job <3
mentions: @nanamiswifeyy @vensucxy
fwb!sukuna loves keeping you in a headlock when he gets jealous, but he can never say it to your face
cw: nsfw (18+), praise, degradation, manhandling, slapping, daddy kink, mentioned toji, no use of y/n
"'k-kuna, s-slow down..." you drawl as his hips keep slamming into yours, your face pressed against his pillow. his hand remained behind your head to make sure you wouldn't dare lift your head.
"shut up, bitch," he replies with a sudden sharp thrust that had you gasping, your eyes rolling back from the pain and pleasure of your poor cervix being abused by the fat head of his cock. "tellin' me to stop, then rolling your eyes like wanton slut. y'want me to stop, huh?" fwhap. "want me..." fwhap. "to slow down? you gonna tell me what to do with you?"
you shake your head, already know what was coming, but you're not even sure if you're shaking your head to say yes or no because your pussy's already clenching around his thick cock that kept pushing and hitting just the right spot and you couldn't even think straight, couldn't stop sputtering and mewling as sukuna leaned down, his chest pressing on your back as his forearm wrapped around your throat.
in an instant, he's on his knees upright again — this time though, he was squeezing your throat between his forearm and biceps. his hips halted for a moment as he looked at you from the side of your face, watching as you drooled all over his arm like a cockdrunk whore. his cockdrunk whore.
"say something," he hisses against your ear. but he knows you won't be able to say anything. he knows you're already too fucked out, which he loves about you more than anything. if you do manage to say something, it never really means anything — always just gibberish to him.
"s'what i thought," he retorts with a nip to your ear, before he pulls out just enough, leaving the tip inside of your hole before he thrusts inside you completely, leaving you completely dazed and winded. in this position, you could feel the drag of his veins better against your walls, could feel his arm tightening and restricting your oxygen flow. your head was lolled back on his shoulder.
when it started tipping to the side, he grabbed your chin with his other hand, smacking you across your cheek just hard enough to keep you from completely going limp. after all, he's made you cum three times now. you couldn't even feel your legs anymore — but you could feel the small bump in your lower tummy with each deep thrust.
fuck. you didn't even get to ask him why he suddenly just turned up to your place and threw you in your own bed!
"'k-kuna, 'm c-"
"no," he warns, slapping you once again and tightening his hold around your neck.
fwhap.
you were sure as hell you heard a small crack from under your bed frame. but you were too dizzy at that point to know whether it was real.
"'kuna, g-gonna—"
"fuck did i say, doll?" he says once again, wanting to hear it from you. waiting. wanting.
"daddy..." you whimper, your mouth parted that even that word sounded almost like a rasp. "g-gonna cum... s'too...-ahh-much..."
"attagirl," he finally says, and he moves his hand from your face to your clit, rubbing and pinching the abused nerve until you were tearing up and gasping, finally cumming around his pistoning cock for the fourth time, a ring of white forming around the base of his veiny girth.
his hold around your throat loosens just a bit, but he still kept you in that position as you tried to catch your breath. your chest heaved, your thighs and knees trembling as you tried to keep yourself from falling on your face while he kissed your temple and whispered how much of a good girl you were for daddy.
when he finally lets you go, you let yourself fall onto the bed, your body trembling from overstimulation and the pleasure. you could feel your mixed fluids trickling out of your hole and onto your sheets, but you didn't have the energy to complain nor to worry about it.
as you felt your eyelids growing heavier and closing, you hear sukuna's lighter flick and the smell of his cigarette fill the bedroom. he stays sitting on the side of your bed, taking a drag from the stick before leaning down and kissing your cheek.
"that's what you get for hangin' 'round that fuckass fushiguro," he murmurs against your ear. he sits upright right after, placing his arm behind his head while leaning against your headboard.
sukuna would've never said that if he hadn't noticed that you already fell asleep.
you stayed still, eyes closed — with just a tiny bit of twitch on the corner of your tired lips — knowing he would never have said it if he knew you could hear.
a/n: fun fun! i'm not exactly sure how to write sukuna since i only ever did something for him in my ex jjk comp drabble... (ᵕ—ᴗ—) ah, let me know what you guys think! also, this is a repost since i messed up the tags earlier...
also, sorry for the shameless plug, but if anyone wants to send in any requests or questions, my inbox is open !! ☆⌒(ゝ。∂)
a situationship with toji fushiguro is...
cw: mentioned nsfw (smut), age gap mentioned, past cheating from an ex, angst, toji is a pos
in retrospect, you should've left a long time ago.
toji fushiguro, a man older than you by more than a decade, should've never been someone you entertained from the get-go. but more than a year ago, you needed help carrying in boxes from your move into a new apartment.
you couldn't do it all alone, so you swallowed your shyness and approached a stranger smoking while leaning against the wall of your new apartment building. he was tall, brooding, and he looked like he works out, even under the worn out jacket he wore.
"i... i just really need some help, and i can't really carry all these boxes myself! i swear, i can... i can pay however you want. maybe a meal? or some cash? just tell me what you want, and i'll-"
"let's just get it over with," is all he replied. he threw the cigarette on the ground, stomping on it before walking past you and grabbing two boxes.
by the time you were done getting everything in, he just stood by the doorway, hands in his pocket and eyes silently looking at the small studio apartment.
"you brought a lotta of things with you, kid," he says, his voice rasped from the cigarettes he lit in between all the lifting he did. "how were you gonna bring all these boxes up them stairs if i hadn't been there?"
you shrug, offering a sheepish smile.
he clicked his tongue. again.
"someone oughta teach you that approachin' strangers barely end up going well.
you asked for his name. he only gives you 'toji'.
you gave him your full one without question.
when you asked him what he wanted as payment for all the help, it took him a minute before answering: ramen.
he took you to the closest ramen place that was still open at that hour. you talked, and he listened and nodded, only speaking when asked a question. but even then, he barely gave more than five words.
"i left my previous city because... my ex cheated. we were together for four years," you say solemnly, even though you tried making your tone sound lighter as you slurped up some of the broth.
at that moment, you chided yourself for oversharing such an intimate and personal detail of your life.
at that moment, all toji could think of was how your cheeks puffed while chewing on the noodles.
toji walked you back to your new apartment after you two finished. he kept you on his left side, even though the streets were already empty. by the time you were at the lobby doors, you insisted you two exchange numbers.
"you're my first friend here!" you say, and all toji could offer in return was the twitch of his corner lip while you gave him your number.
throughout the months after, your relationship developed. from the moment you invited him over during a random friday, and he entered your unlocked apartment. he saw you in your tiny kitchen, cooking up a meal for the both of you.
he approached you and places a large hand on your lower back, looking down at the pan from over your shoulder. he said it smelled delicious. that he couldn't wait to eat it.
for the first time in months, you felt your heart skip a beat.
the nights together were never always planned. he would show up with some food from the convenience store, and he would hold you in his arms while you watched a chick flick he profusely didn't wanna watch.
but he still did, anyway
you would spend your mornings texting him a good morning. you'd spend the day picturing your meal, talking about what happened at work, and sometimes even selfies of you during random moments in the day.
toji barely replies. you ignore the lump in your throat whenever he leaves you on delivered.
you reason with yourself that it's just the age gap. that he probably isn't on his phone all the time like you.
if he didn't care, he wouldn't show up on your door randomly to hang out. hangouts that would end with you squirming on his lap as you rode him. hangouts that had him whispering how you were so good for him. how you were made for him. how you were so, so good at what you do for him.
he would leave before the morning. you would even wake up despite the soreness to make him a sandwich because he said he needs to leave for work. you never question it, just like how you can never bring yourself to question where you stand in his life.
after those type of nights together, any sort of communication from toji would become rare. it would be radio silence, even if you spam him messages. there'd be instances he'd reply with a thumbs up or an 'ok', or even with 'next time' when you invite him over again.
he's just busy. and so you try to bury yourself in your work as well, even though your heart sinks everytime you think of him.
he once came over with a tool box after a whole week of him leaving you on read. you hated how your body immediately relaxed when you saw him.
"you were complaining 'bout a leaky faucet, right?" he asks, stepping inside your apartment like he belonged there.
in your eyes, he does. perhaps he just doesn't know it yet. perhaps he's just not used to it. maybe you just need to be more persistent enough for him to see how much you love him already.
"that... that was from four days ago," you reply, remembering how you ranted about a leaky faucet you had and how your landlord didn't even do anything about it. toji left you on read after that, too.
but now, he's acting like he never did.
once again, you don't question it.
but you're only human.
he appeared in your doorstep once again, only to be greeted with your eyes bloodshot red, and your cheeks streaked with tears. toji didn't have the best track record dealing with crying women, but he still went in when you stepped aside.
silence filled the apartment, until you finally asked.
"where is this going, toji?"
he doesn't say anything immediately. he only stares at you, his eyebrows slightly pinched together. he looks away and lets out a small chuckle. dry. hesitant. vulnerable.
"i don't know. does it have to lead to anything?"
it wasn't the answer you wanted... but it was an answer, regardless.
that night, something finally settles in your chest. not loudly. not like a shatter. it’s quieter than that. like dust falling after a collapse that already happened months ago. you look at him and realize you’ve been bending yourself into smaller and smaller shapes just to fit beside him, mistaking his presence for commitment, his silence for depth.
you nod, because you don’t trust your voice not to break, and toji takes that as agreement. he always has.
he stays for a bit, touches your shoulder once, familiar and grounding and devastating all at the same time.
then he leaves before dawn, like he always does.
for the first time, you don’t make him a sandwich.
a/n: this was so rushed and short! i just love writing toji... i should probably finish the part two of my professor nanami piece, though "૮₍ •⤙•˶₊˚ෆ happy holidays, everyone! again, lmk how you feel about this work... ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა
sypnosis: you call for a tradesman to check on your leaky faucet, but after days of delay, you didn't expect for plumber!toji to stop by your apartment during a very vulnerable moment tags: NSFW (18+), x fem reader, age gap (toji is in his early forties, reader is in her twenties), choking kink, mind break, profanities, mix of praise and degradation, use of sex toys to masturbate, calling toji as 'mister', employer shiu kong mention
ᥫ᭡. thinking about...
plumber!toji, who got assigned to an apartment far from his own because his stupid employer was too much of a cheapskate to hire more employees. nevertheless, he gets on his truck to drive to the location, because the lack of employee means he gets more jobs handed to him, and he just really needed to get by.
but when he arrived at your apartment, nobody answers. he keeps on knocking, ringing the doorbell, and even calling out your name, but nobody answers. if this had been any normal client, he would've just turned on his heel and walked away with a grumble under his breath.
but he drove for more than an hour for this, and he also needed the pay. he paid for the gas with his own fucking money, and he expects pay - not for his time to be wasted by some irresponsible brat who can't keep track of her own damn appointments.
after continuing to knock and call for your name, he finally took a step back and rolled his shoulders. heck, if anything had happened to you, he wouldn't really give a flying fuck.
but, then again, he wasn't trying to get suspended by shiu if one of the company's clients had gotten into some shit and toji didn't even bother to check when he's already here. he's been there, and he wasn't looking for a repeat.
after putting down his toolbox, toji dives into the door and breaks it down using the side of his body. perhaps he should be thankful he didn't see no fucking body on the floor of the studio apartment, but when he lifts his gaze and meets the horrified look you had on your face, and he squints - only to see your hand wrapped around the base of a fucking dildo buried inside your cunt - something in him snaps.
"m-mister... 'm s-sorry...!" you whimper out loud in between his harsh thrusts, your face pressed against your pillow while his large hand pressed against the back of your head.
but he wasn't hearing none of it. you spent more than minutes overstimulating yourself into cumming and cumming on a silicone cock, that you had toji waste his voice and time trying to call for his slutty little client who was too busy being a whore.
"shut-haa-up," toji groaned, his hips driving into yours harder and harsher every time you tried to apologize again and again for being sososo stupid and not hearing the doorbell earlier over the sounds of your squelching cunt and the porn video you were watching.
when you moved your hips back to try and meet his strokes, toji feels his already thin patience finally break.
toji pulls out and flips you until you're laying on your back. he says nothing as he pushes back inside completely, your eyes bulging and your cunt tightening because you didn't realize just how big he actually was. he'd shown you mercy by not burying himself to the hilt earlier, but you just had to ask for more, had to act like a slutty brat once again.
"take it and stop fuckin' whining, y'dumb slut," he grunts, leaning down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while he fucked you so hard and deep you couldn't even think anymore. you deserve to get done like this for being so disrespectful of his time, of course!
you were just panting and whining and wrapping your legs around him to make sure he doesn't pull out anymore. like this man wasn't a random tradesman you're only meeting for the first time to fix your faucet. like this man isn't someone who's probably older than you by more than a decade and just happened to still be so built and tall and hot. oh, this was a much better outcome.
you didn't even feel his hand snake up your neck until you started feeling lightheaded. he was squeezing around your throat, his large hand almost able to cover around your neck completely. you could feel the lack of oxygen, and toji pulls away from your breasts to look down at you, only to see the dumbed out smile on your face. fuck, if you weren't the hottest thing he's ever seen. the tightest he's ever been in.
the sounds of squelching and skin slapping became louder and sloppier as you started feeling the familiar pool in your stomach. your whines became louder, your back arching and your eyes rolling, and toji expected you to come hard and done, but oh, he was getting more than he bargained for. his eyes widened slightly as your thighs quivered and you started squirting, the sheets under you getting soaked along with his cock and pubes still buried inside your tight little fuckhole.
shit. shit shit shit.
toji pulls his hand away from your throat once he felt his balls tighten. the sweat on his forehead trickled down onto his hand as he pulled away and started jerking himself off. he felt the jolt throughout his body as he finally, finally cums, spilling all over your tummy and spent pussy.
a month after that day, shiu decides to give toji an incredibly rare salary raise. after all, requests for more work started coming in from you, and you would request for toji specifically. it could only mean you were satisfied with their service.
a/n: this was such a fun write! lmk what you guys think (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
sypnosis: when your ex!jjk man hears about you getting friendly or seeing someone else after the break-up, that person mysteriously starts avoiding you in the following days after... tags: x fem reader, toxic behavior, stalking, manipulation, off-screen (implied) non-graphic violence (nothing against the reader), power imbalance, angst if you squint a/n: hi! i hope you guys like this : ]] the poll got lots of votes and i didn't expect it to reach even more than a hundred, so it really motivated me to get this out as soon as i am able. once again, reblogs and comments are appreciated!! let me know which of the men you liked best here! it helps me write and push out more content. thank you all sosososo much (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
ꫂ᭪ gojo satoru
it's subtle. almost funny.
it's been more than six months since you and satoru have broken up. it wasn't anything explosive. it had accumulated overtime. satoru loved you loudly, almost recklessly. but it never felt like he belonged to you.
missions interrupted dinners. emergencies came more often during day-offs. he would promise forever, but you couldn't wait for him any longer.
you never doubted his feelings, but you doubted there would ever be space for you if you needed him. so, you ended things before resentment turned into something ugly.
you started dating again. you moved into a new city. new job, new circle, new everything. you started seeing some people, too. while it was never anything serious, there was this guy from work that you started getting along with.
break hours started becoming something you looked forward to instead of something you skipped to occupy your brain. he was everything. he was nice, remembers all the things you liked, and even walks you home. when he asked you on a date, saying no didn't even come to mind.
but then, the morning after the date came. you arrived at your office, hoping to see his bright smile and two coffees waiting by the desk next to you.
but there was nothing.
you contacted him, but you were blocked everywhere. you asked around. you asked your other office mates, the other departments, but none of them knew anything. it wasn't until your manager arrived that you finally had the gall to ask, because deep inside, you had an idea of what could've happened. but you didn't want to think about it.
it's been months, after all.
"he got reassigned overseas," your manager says with a pitiful expression. "it's too bad, honestly. he was such a diligent one, too."
you felt sick. the idea of him suddenly being assigned somewhere else almost immediately was virtually impossible.
for the sole exception of someone in particular, of course.
you had told your manager you didn't feel good, and they were kind enough to send you home and just let you do your work there for the day. the excuse wasn't a lie at all. the realization of what could've happened, the denial inside of you, it made your stomach churn.
as you stepped out of the building and finally was out of sight from your co-workers, you felt it. the lump in your throat, the sting in your eyes. you were crying - crying at the loss of someone you viewed as the start of someone new, and crying at the realization that, perhaps, you could never really start anew. not with his connections, his power, his obsession.
"wow," a voice behind you says - a voice you are all too familiar with, it made you want to vomit because your hunch came true. slowly, hesitantly, you looked over your shoulder, and you finally see gojo satoru six months after everything went down.
satoru had his blindfold tilted just enough to feel like he's looking at you, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned on his side against the wall of your office building.
"you sure you don't have terrible taste?"
satoru is cheerful about it - playful, even - but the message was unmistakable.
ꫂ᭪ fushiguro toji
you couldn't take it. toji didn't just lean on you emotionally - he latched. you were the one constant in his life built on gambling, contracts, and violence.
he didn't ask for reassurance, but you felt the way his presence sharpened when you would pull away, how his hand lingered too long, how his eyes tracked exits and people when you were together.
the moment you accepted the reality of your relationship, you ended things with him that very day.
you expected him to argue. you expected a fight. but none of it happened. he didn't stop you. he didn't argue. he just went very still - even watching you pack your bags in silence. he didn't even move from his position - elbows resting on his knees, hands clasped together, body leaning forward as he sat at the edge of the bed you two shared.
once shared.
you had leaned down, kissing the top of his head and running your hand through his hair as you said your final goodbye. because even though this was the conclusion you came to, you loved toji, and you know he loves you. it was just too much of it.
the very next day, you found out toji went over to your friend's house and threatened him for picking you up at the apartment building you and toji shared. your friend - a guy from college that had become a silent comfort for you - had been admitted into the hospital for injuries you couldn't even stomach hearing.
toji also found out in the process that your friend was the one who suggested you might be unhappy in your relationship, which was a conversation that took place a few months before the break-up itself.
how toji found out, you couldn't ask.
not asking was the only way you could still see toji as the man you fell in love with.
ꫂ᭪ ryomen sukuna
being with the king of curses meant power bled into you. you caught yourself enjoying fear, enjoying the way others quivered in your own presence.
you watched your friends slip away. you watched your family lose the daughter they nurtured and raised. you started mirroring his qualities without even noticing. sukuna relished in the new you.
it took you more than a year of denial and self conflict to see the truth - the truth of what you have become, reflected on the smile of the man you foolishly loved.
you broke it off because you didn't want to rule over ashes, even as an equal of the strongest.
sukuna ryomen let you go.
he never believed it would last.
on the very first day after your break-up, you notice it. the landlord of your new apartment, the cashier from the convenience store you bought your dinner that same night, the people who you asked for directions...
gone.
sukuna's silence on that day now seemed to scream louder than the cries of those that perished simply because you talked to them.
you only got to 'leave' because he let you.
sukuna was isolating you. he was punishing you for daring to think you could leave him.
after months of hiding in your apartment and surviving off of convenience store food (a store you looked for where they had a self checkout just to make sure you don't end up interacting with anyone) you finally see sukuna again.
no, he didn't appear at your doorstep. it was in your sleep - something you also didn't get anymore. because every time you closed your eyes, the guilt kept rising up your throat.
you tried to escape the relationship because it had turned you into a monster; sukuna made sure you remember that you will always be one regardless of the choice you make.
in your sleep, the laughter you hear wasn't yours. if anything, you don't even remember how your laugh sounds anymore.
sukuna lounges in your subconscious, chin resting on top of his palm as he looked down at you.
"so fragile," he muses, but he wasn't referring to you.
no, you are his equal. his only equal. his.
"humans... they break so easily when they touch what's mine."
ꫂ᭪ suguru geto
at first, you understood where he came from. you believed that his reasonings for separating himself from the world he had before is justified. because you know he's seen enough, and that he has lived it. it was not his fault that the world he lived in used to be toxic. if anything, you were proud of him for standing for what he believed was his conviction.
but over the course of suguru building his cult, building his following and everything that came along with it, you start seeing it. you noticed how easily he justified cruelty, even to those who have done nothing wrong.
how suguru geto's ideals turned into entitlement.
the shift is what made it more frightening. it wasn't anything grand. there was no defining moment. it just did. his justification eroded into permission. once he decided it was right, and he will make it happen.
you asked him where the line was.
he couldn't give you an answer you could live with it, and so you left.
that's what he wanted you to believe, at least.
you started reconnecting with people again. your relationship with suguru isolated you from the beauty of humanity, regardless of the stains that did exist. you realized that while the world may indeed be cruel, there were people who only wanted to live and be loved.
that the world is beautiful, and so is life, and that the beauty you started seeing again is a necessity.
one that suguru had no right to take.
but, once again, if he has decided it was right, then it is.
you only notice the pattern when the new people you started connecting with stopped saying goodbye.
your neighbors, your classmates in university...
one day, they're warm, and the next, distant. afraid, though they can never explain why they look like the color got drained out of them.
it was one of those situations where you didn't even need to think about it because you already know the explanation.
suguru finds you in a quiet café after your finals exam, which you didn't even get to study for properly because your study group started ignoring you.
suguru didn't need to do much. humans didn't need to hear much to believe they are inferior. he doesn't scare them directly, no.
he just convinces them they don't belong anywhere near you. that staying around you somehow makes them bad, bad people.
and somehow, they believe him.
"there you are," he says, as if he hadn't been keeping tabs on you every minute. "how have you been, sweetheart?"
ꫂ᭪ choso kamo
choso's devotion was suffocating. his love - his obsession - it was absolute. he prioritizes you over everything, even himself.
you became his axis.
his reason.
his world.
you loved choso so much that leaving him felt like cruelty. but staying would be erasing him.
after breaking up with choso, you knew you needed space. you took time to yourself, and to the new chapter of your life. you knew you needed to relearn how it felt like to exist without being the center of someone's gravity. days passed by, and even though choso would start appearing in places you go to, trying to mask it off as a coincidence, you never really believed him.
you did your best not to entertain it, too.
as weeks of the pestering turned into months only for his efforts to result to nothing, it came as a shock to you when, after a day of living the new routine you had gotten into, you didn't see him.
which should've made you happy, really. because that meant you could start befriending other people and going out without worry and hearing the same footsteps over and over wherever you go.
but honestly, you couldn't fool yourself. his sudden silence frightened you.
you tried to ignore the fear by going along with your plan. you try to talk to people, try to befriend them. at first, talking to new people after his disappearance felt harmless.
brief conversations. shared smiles. nothing serious.
but they never stay.
one stopped answering mid-conversation. another apologized, voice tight, looking like they'd seen an angel. all of them acted like they did something wrong by just standing near you.
someone avoided you entirely the next day, crossing the street when he saw you.
the sudden shifts would happen whenever their eyes flicked to something over your shoulder.
whenever you feel the hairs at your nape start to rise, you look over your shoulder, your heart pounding.
but everytime, there was nothing.
choso kamo isn't a jealous man. he is just protective.
ꫂ᭪ nanami kento
nanami kento's mistake was trying to protect you by excluding you.
kento kept you at arm's length in the name of safety. he compartmentalized his life so well there was no room for mess, vulnerability, or shared fear. but as much as you appreciated it at first, you felt like you were in a one-sided relationship.
things felt like a constant push and pull between you two. one day, he's nothing but caring. the second day, after coming home from a mission, it was almost like you weren't there.
you had told him from the very beginning that you wanted your relationship to be a space that could keep you both safe and comfortable.
he agreed, only to go against it and shoulder everything alone.
eventually, it felt like loving a closed door.
you decided to walk out of it.
you believed it was the right thing.
the break-up wasn't dramatic. there were no raised voices, no slammed doors. just understanding between two adults, as kento loftily phrased. you had accepted for a long time already that loving kento meant loving someone who would never fully step into the same room as you.
life moved on, and you let it.
at first, it felt strange talking to people without having to weigh every word, without wondering if you were asking for too much just by wanting to be included. you went on dates - casual ones. nothing serious. nothing that mattered.
they didn't last.
one canceled indefinitely, citing work stress, apologizing more than necessary. another grew distant overnight, messages turning formal, until they apologized and said they couldn't see things furthering with you. a third stopped frequenting places you used to go to together.
the pattern settled in slowly, uneasily, until you found yourself standing across kento's door - the apartment you two once shared, but never really did.
he opens his door. offers tea. you say no.
silence.
when you finally find the words to say everything - the suspicions you had as to why they all started retreating, as well as the meticulously crafted pattern as to when and how they pulled away from your life - kento only adjusts his tie, expression composed, and his eyes steady.
"did they apologize?" he asks. it took you a minute to realize what he meant.
your heart sank. but you nodded.
nanami made sure to instruct those men to apologize before leaving, of course. he would never want you to question yourself or think you're at fault for anything.
"i simply had a conversation with them," he says. "adult men should know when they're overstepping."
ꫂ᭪ hiromi higuruma
how could one ever stay in a relationship that felt like an interrogation?
at first, loving hiromi felt like standing beside someone who understood the weight of the world. he listened. he remembered. he cared carefully.
too carefully.
whenever things went wrong between you, he didn't argue. he investigated. hiromi would replay conversations like transcripts, parsed your tone like a testimony, and measured his own reactions like he's preparing a defense.
love stopped being something you're supposed to share. it became something he audited.
the last straw was the night you told him you were lonely in your relationship. he apologized immediately. he then listed everything he thinks he did wrong, everything he would correct, everything that proved the fault lay with him alone.
there was no room for you to be messy, emotional, or unresolved.
there was no room for you to feel.
you weren't hiromi's partner; you were a case study.
after your break-up that had been as quiet as your everyday in the relationship, life moved on.
or so you thought.
'the eyes of the law has no scabbard', you remember hiromi telling you before. it was a quote from joseph de maistre. you didn't thing much of it before. lawyers always go up and about legal quotes and maxims.
but then the sword of justice started showing how it is constantly wielded.
it took you so long to notice. hiromi never contacted you after the break-up. he didn't argue, nor did he try to renegotiate the terms of your absence. he accepted it the way he accepted everything else - with a sense of finality.
life moved on, even though it hurt to know your absence didn't even prompt him to extend a hand towards you.
life moved on.
the consequences came later.
a man you started seeing casually had lost his job a week later, and he explains he was under investigation at work. the guy who had his cubicle next to you at work disappeared after he bought you coffee a few days prior. you learned through hush whispers between your colleagues that he'd lost his job over a contract violation he swore he hadn't noticed. a childhood friend who was staying over at your city asked you out for lunch to catch up. it had been fun.
well, until you found out through another mutual friend that he vanished under the weight of legal notices and deadlines he couldn't explain.
it took months for you to recognize the pattern.
but how could you ever approach him about this? no doubt, he would only dodge. he would find holes in your 'theory', would find technicalities in your reasoning.
you couldn't win against someone who wielded justice's sword with an intent to kill.
it's not like hiromi did anything wrong, anyway. he didn't fabricate anything. those men simply made mistakes that cost them.
their biggest one being the act of ever approaching you.
not when the law is watching.
© cornerlipscar, 2025
how do we (yes WE) as a civilized society feel about jealous ex!jjk men where whenever he sees you talking to other men in work or uni, those men start avoiding you the very next day...?!
update: here it is! this was such a fun write. let me know your thoughts and which of them you like best!!!
this is for scientific purposes ...
ooh la la !!
nope
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡ jjk fanfics & drabbles 𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
ꫂ᭪ nanami kento
lessons in discipline pt. i, lessons in discipline pt. ii
ꫂ᭪ geto suguru
ꫂ᭪ gojo satoru
ꫂ᭪ fushiguro toji
the nightmare at jutsu rho's street (drabble), plumber!toji one-shot, situationship with toji
ꫂ᭪ kamo choso
ꫂ᭪ ryomen sukuna
fwb!sukuna is jealous, shopping with bf!sukuna
ꫂ᭪ hiromi higuruma
ꫂ᭪ compiled drabbles
you can't talk with anyone after your break-up because of your obsessed ex!jjk men
𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ pls refer to the tags included in each fic and read at your own risk. mdni for nsfw tagged prompts ۶ৎ
© cornerlipscar
tags: NSFW (18+), fratboy!toji, fushiguro toji x reader, toji has the mouth of a sailor, no use of y/n, reader is a college student, jjk frat!au, manhandling, drabbles, degradation kink, spitting, heavy use of profanities, mind break, mentions of frat president!sukuna, fratboy!gojo satoru, fratboy!geto suguru
a/n: i just had to get this out. let me know if you guys enjoy ~
(word count: 1,077)
ᥫ᭡. thinking about...
fratboy!toji, a member of alpha jujutsu rho who really should have graduated three semesters ago. he swears he's done with the party phase, despite being the one who invented half their catastrophes.
you met him at a mixers your friends dragged you to, despite your reluctance. you were scooping up chips when he appeared beside you, leaning on the counter of the table that didn't even reach his hips. he sported a lazy grin on his face while looking down at you, muttering about you being a new face. fratboy!toji, who was taller and even bigger than the guys in the football team.
he refers to you as "fresh blood", like he made you a character in his personal comedy. he calls over frat president!sukuna who barely spares you a glance. frat president!sukuna, who tells toji not to break anything and to not start a show in the middle of the floor.
you didn't understand what he meant, but the two just nodded at each other after, both of them sporting a grin of their own.
while that moment earlier at the snacks table was indeed the first time you ever met him, he wasn't a complete stranger to you. you've heard his name from some friends. gojo refers to him as the sleazy bastard who was older than half of the frat population of alpha jujutsu rho. geto recalls the story of fratboy!toji carrying two kegs of beer at the same time across campus, without so much as a care to the professors who saw.
fratboy!toji, who you told off to look for someone else to bother because you don't do fratboys. you've heard and seen enough horror stories from gojo and geto.
"sure, doll," he replies, the scar on the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. "whatever that pretty mouth of yours say."
fratboy!toji, who already had your face pressed against his pillow after you thought 'fuck it' when you saw him go shirtless in the middle of the party, rallying out shouts and hollers from the people in the party as he chugged down a large mug of beer. because damn it, he was really, really hot! and it is not every day that you find the time to fuck around in college.
"fuck, that's it," he groans, his hips snapping again yours from behind. it hard hurt when he pushed it in. you weren't a virgin, but toji was way, way bigger than your last fuck. you tried to tell him to go slow, but fuck it - he doesn't remember ever being inside anyone as tight and vocal as you.
you tried to wrap your legs around his hips at first after he bottomed out - a desperate attempt to keep him from immediately moving as you tried to adjust first. but of course, of course the bastard took it as a challenge. he had grabbed your thighs, pushing your legs open until the sight of your pretty cunt swallowing him whole was in his line of sight.
he pulls out, eliciting a whine from you after you're left complete empty. toji grabbed you on your hips, flipping you over and forcing your head against his pillow as he lifted your hips up in the air, before he pushes back inside and his hips immediately snapped, and you immediately moaned and sobbed from the pleasure and pain.
"yeah, that's what y'get for thinkin' you can—ha—tell me what to do," he whispered, keeping his hands on your hips as he fucked you relentlessly, the headboard of his bed slamming against the wall. it's not like people would hear. but even if they did, he really couldn't be bothered to give a fuck. the faint music of the party downstairs was enough to keep people distracted.
"t-toji! tojiii!" you sob out, your face streaken with tears and drool. he slaps the side of your ass, watching you move your hips to meet his thrusts like a little whore.
"yeah, y'like that?" he mumbles, even though he already knows the answer. "tellin' me t'stop when you're the one fuckin' your cunt against my dick. fuck, you're one big whore, ain't ya, doll?"
you were too fucked out to even reply. you were drooling against his pillow, your eyes rolled back, your cheek pressed against the fabric. it was too good, sosososo good. you couldn't answer. heck, you couldn't even remember half of the things he said, besides the fact he's calling you 'doll' now instead of 'fresh blood'. you thought the former was now more fitting, considering he was ramming into you like a toy.
when you felt a sudden tug at your hair, your head being pulled back and making you whimper and tighten around him, you were immediately muttering sorrys for not answering him. because he didn't like getting ignored. when he asks a question, you answer.
"what'd i say, doll?" he asks, tugging on your hair again like a leash. he had stopped moving his hips, just keeping himself completely buried inside of you because you didn't deserve to feel good until he hears what he wants.
"'m sorry, toji... 's t'good... never been fucked like this..." you reply, eyes already prickling with a new wave of tears as you try to move your hips, needing to fuck yourself on his cock. he snorts.
"yeah, well... that's a given, doll. there's nobody else out there like me," he retorts, before pulling your upper body up until your back was pressed against his chest. he wraps his arm around your neck after letting go of your hair. he grabs you by your jaw, and he leans in to kiss you, your lips moving languidly and sloppily with his.
he pulls away from the kiss, tightening his arm around your neck just enough to make you dizzy. your lips part from the lack of air. he forces your mouth to open wider as he spits in your mouth.
and of course, you swallow it like a cock-hungry slut. fuck. that was enough of an apology for your disregard of his question earlier.
"you're a good little doll, ain't ya?" he whispers against your ear, before pressing his lips against your temple. he didn't even say anything else before he started thrusting once more, and you could already feel your first orgasm coming.
and of course, with fratboy!toji, it wouldn't be the last.
© cornerlipscar 2025
sypnosis: when nanami kento realizes you stopped attending and putting effort into his class because you're taking an internship under his colleague, hiromi higuruma, he decides to take matters into his own hands.
tags: NSFW (18+), professor!nanami x student!reader, age gap (kento is 33, reader is 22), power imbalance, two-shot, hiromi higuruma, jealous nanami kento, reader is a bit of a pushover, geto suguru mentioned, no use of y/n
part 1/2 (word count: 3,052)
If there was one thing Nanami Kento hated, it was the casual disregard students showed when they vanished from his lecture or turned in work that read like an afterthought.
Nanami had been in this profession for more than ten years. He'd seen different kinds of students enter and leave his lecture hall. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen a student start slacking off. In all his years of teaching, he had seen countless of them pull out of his course or stop college altogether. He'd seen students drop out due to a multitude of reasons - financial, mental, and all the other problems that came along with being a student.
But in all the ten years of teaching he's been doing, he has never, ever seen a student start to slack off to spend time with his own colleague.
Much less with Hiromi Higuruma, of all people.
It irked him more than he'd be bothered to admit.
It all started when you came to his office to talk to him about a paper on market structures. It was an easy enough topic that he believed did not really need much dwelling on. It was a foundation of economics, and for some reason, you decided to revolve your thesis around market monopolies - as if we don't have enough research on it already. But he isn't the type to stump on a student's interest and passion. Nanami has been in this field for more than a decade. Compared to him, you are merely still a seed, waiting to be planted and nurtured.
Your visits to his office had become more frequent as you sought him out for questions or advice. It wasn't his plan to be your mentor, and he has no plans on being so. He considers your visits as mere obligations that come with the job, although he doesn't remember ever entertaining a student's inquiries and short stories about how their friend broke up with their boyfriend, or which cafe around campus serves the best iced matcha.
It's all part of the job. Of course it is.
Why else would he keep doing it?
He doesn't see you as anything new. While you are indeed passionate about the course - going as far as to exceed the maximum word limit he gives on papers, go far and beyond by actually going through library books for case digests - it isn't new. He wouldn't have kept this job and been one of the most demanded professors in the university if he couldn't keep the average individual to gain at least a conscious interest in what he teaches. He is good at what he does, and that is why he is still here.
So when he posted an assignment on the portal last week and read the paper you submitted the same night, he'd been extremely baffled by the perfunctory work displayed on his laptop screen.
He exited the file and opened it again just to make sure he didn't mistake your work for another student of his.
What the fuck was this?
He took a sip of his coffee, before closing his laptop and leaning back against his office chair. He closes his eyes. Thinks.
This isn't new. It wouldn't be fair of him to put unjust expectations on you just because he's seen up-close the passion you possess and what you can actually offer.
But it seemed that the lackluster essay you submitted wouldn't be the first and last. It only went worse from there.
Nanami noticed it. He hated how he couldn't help but notice it. You started appearing late into class. You would sit at the very back of the lecture hall, only to use your phone the whole time. Sometimes, you didn't even bother showing up at all. He has no idea if he's been doing something wrong, because you even stopped coming into his office to ask about your thesis topic.
It has been like this for more than two weeks now, and Nanami had no idea what to do.
He dares not ask himself why he's even trying to do anything.
---
Nanami was forced to stay in university after the clock struck six o'clock, much towards his obvious scowl as he walked towards the university council's meeting room. It was time for the bi-monthly meeting of the department chairs, which - even after all these years of having to attend such meetings - he still believes could have all been an email.
It was always, always the same thing. Progress reports, yada, yada. Not only were these meetings completely and utterly monotonous and mundane, it also forces him to talk to the other department chairs. He couldn't be bothered to listen to the Humanities and Social Sciences Department Chair, who seems to always have something to say. Suguru Geto's department has no business with the College of Economics and Management, so why would Nanami have to talk to the guy?
The progress reports are usually given in turns. It starts, of course, with the person at the head of the table, and then the person to his right, and then the next, and so on. Nanami was seated near the end of the right side, and the man currently giving his report - the College of Law's department chair - was discussing the department's growing caseload, the expansion of their externship program, and the recent influx of undergraduates applying for pre-law tracks. Nanami only half-listened, eyes fixed on the untouched folder in front of him. The fluorescent lights hummed. Someone cleared their throat. Someone else stifled a yawn.
Then Higuruma said your name.
Nanami's attention snapped into place so sharply it felt audible. He lifted his gaze in a manner he hoped looked casual, though the muscle along his jaw disagreed.
"…and our newest intern has been assisting with drafting memos and preliminary case reviews," Higuruma continued, flipping a page with irritating serenity. "She's shown remarkable initiative for someone balancing a full course load. Though I believe she's taking fewer units this term to accommodate the hours."
A few heads nodded approvingly. Someone muttered something about student achievement. Nanami heard none of it.
Fewer units. Accommodating the hours. Intern.
A pulse of realization threaded through him with the precision of a needle: so that's where you'd been disappearing to. Not illness. Not burnout. Not the casual disregard he'd been forcing himself to accept.
You had taken an internship. Under Higuruma. Without so much as an email explaining why your attendance had plummeted into statistical insult.
Nanami stared down at the agenda, its bullet points now blurring into a grey wash. The monotony of these meetings never bothered him as much as this single, quiet admission did. It lodged somewhere behind his ribs, as if someone had slipped a pebble into the smooth workings of a clock. Has he not been providing you enough of what you wanted with those visits you used to do at his office? Were his advice and lectures too dull? Or were they too much that it warranted you to start skipping his classes, coming in late, and disrespecting the time and effort he puts into every lesson and discussion by submitting half-assed assignments that even a middle schooler could do better?
You were his student first before Higuruma's intern, god damn it.
His. First.
Nanami Kento did not take lightly to disrespect.
—
When you received an email from Professor Kento, you had to take a shaky, deep breath before excusing yourself from Atty. Higuruma, who'd been wanting to discuss with you about some sort of teacher's assistant role he wanted to offer to you.
"Okay," he says, his gaze lifted from the document he'd been reading through before letting you read for yourself. His eyes - sharp and calculating - used to have you quivering in your seat out of the fear you'd get a dressing down anytime. But it never really comes. He's been nothing but nice to you, albeit still a bit uptight during certain moments.
"Let me know if there's any problem."
As you stepped out of Higuruma's office and into the quiet hallway, you take another breath before leaning against the wall, your heel nervously tapping against the marble flooring. You knew this would come. You weren't planning on playing oblivious or clueless about the amount of classes you've skipped. It was never within your intention to slack off. That's why you've tried your best to still submit on time whatever homework Professor Kento gave.
It's just that… this internship was too good of an offer for you to not prioritize. You'd dropped most of your classes, only keeping the ones that actually mattered or kept you interested - one of them being Professor Kento's Economics class. But even then, you really had no idea this internship would take so much of your time.
Sure, the opportunity was too good, but that really should've been the first red flag. No wonder no student lasts more than two months here! The workload was awful! Sure, you've met some pretty big names during your internship. You've been invited by Atty. Higuruma to some huge law conventions and other related social events as a plus one, saying it would be great for exposure and for you to expand your network.
But those events could take hours - sometimes, they would last past twelve o'clock. After Atty. Higuruma drops you off at your dorm building, you still have to open your student portal and submit whatever homework is still available to submit, even the late ones.
Which means you have to stay up longer.
Which, by extension, makes it harder for you to wake up. Hence, you miss most of your Economics class, or end up being late for it.
You took another breath before finally opening the email notification on your phone.
Good Day
You are required to report to my office between 03:00 and 04:00 PM today. We need to address your repeated absences and the subsequent decline in your midterm performance, which now falls below the university's passing standards.
This matter is not negotiable. I expect you to arrive promptly upon reading this message.
Prof. Nanami Kento Department Chair, College of Economics
Fuck.
—
Nanami had not intended to wait in his office like this, but the beginnings of a headache had settled behind his eyes the moment he sent the email. A familiar ache bloomed with every thought of your empty seat, the patterns of absence he'd forced himself to ignore, and the midterm scores that confirmed his suspicions. Your absence in his class seemed to hurt his pride more than he wanted to let on.
He folded a fresh towel, warm from the small steamer he kept tucked away in the cabinet for days exactly like this, and pressed it over his face before leaning back in his chair. The heat eased the tension at his temples, or at least blurred it into something bearable. He listened to the faint hum of the air conditioner and the ticking of the clock on the wall, letting the rhythm steady his breathing.
You would arrive. He expected nothing less.
A knock sounded on his door.
Nanami did not move at first. He let the silence linger just long enough to reestablish control over the irritation that had been trying to claw its way up his throat since the meeting.
"Enter," he said, voice low behind the towel, still perfectly level.
The door opened slowly. He heard your steps before he saw you, and even beneath the heat-softened fabric, he sensed the way the atmosphere shifted.
Nanami removed the towel only after you'd fully stepped inside, lowering it with the unhurried composure of a man who never rushed for anyone.
His gaze settled on you. You squirmed.
He liked that.
"You're on time," he said, though his tone didn't suggest praise. "Take a seat."
He folded the towel, set it neatly beside a stack of graded papers, and watched you sit. No slouching. No looking away. He held your eyes deliberately, letting the weight of his disappointment settle into the space between you.
"We have several matters to address," Nanami said, leaning forward with his hands clasped atop the desk.
"I cannot think of a better way to say that you are completely behind in my class. I cannot see you passing the midterm marks this late into the grading period," he says, before reaching for a small stack of paper and sliding it to your front of the desk. You bite on your lower lip before taking it, going through the printed copies of the work you've submitted through midterms and seeing the glaring numbers written in red.
You didn't get to pass any of it.
"I…" you begin to speak, trying to rack your brain for whatever response or reason you could think of. "Professor, I'm aware that I've… I've been a bit lacking this period, but I-"
"Is an internship really that important and time consuming that you go and neglect my class to go out partying with Higuruma?" He asks, his voice cutting off the pathetic reason and apology you were mustering.
What?
You stared at the blond, your lips parted in surprise. It didn't occur to you that Mr. Nanami could find out you've been taking an internship under Mr. Higuruma. After all, they were both department chairs, and if anything, the Economics Department and College of Law have a long history of working together on college events or seminars. Most of the students enrolled take their majors from both colleges, too.
But what you couldn't understand was where the whole partying comment came from. It offended you, how your efforts under your internship seemed to have all been categorized into one thing: partying.
"With all due respect, that is not what I've been simply doing, Mr. Nanami," you contest calmly, even though your heart is hammering against your chest out of nervousness. Are you really going to go and argue with your professor about your own schedule?
Well, yes.
But it still scared you shitless, because he looks like he was going to grab that hot towel from earlier and smack it across your face.
"Oh?" He replies, before leaning back into his chair and crossing his arms against his chest. "Then tell me. What exactly does the law department make you do during the evening of a class weekday that warrants you coming late into my class every morning? Has Higuruma been forcing you into overtime? That's not exactly allowed in the university handbook."
"No, that's not-"
"Then what?" He asks once more, "What else could there be, if not having you attend conventions and events during the evening? I've been in this university long enough to know what exactly goes on over there, sweetheart. Frankly, it is insulting that you are blatantly lying to my face by even saying I am wrong."
Silence.
You could feel that familiar lump in your throat start to form, your eyes stinging as you realize that there really is no way out of this. It felt like you were going against your professor's ego instead of trying to reason with him, and while you are aware of your own shortcomings, you couldn't think of any other way to actually change his mind.
Then why the hell did he even ask you to come over if he was already dead set on failing you for this grading period?
Nanami felt like he'd lost control.
No, he knows he did.
It wasn't like him to get that angry. Over the course of his life, he could probably count the amount of times he'd ever raised his voice. He just wasn't that type of person.
But, once again, Nanami Kento did not take lightly to disrespect.
"What can I do to make this right, professor?" You ask. He notices it. Of course he did.
The tremble in your voice. The shine in your eyes that he'd seen countless of times in the eyes of students begging for another chance or a retake.
But he'd never seen it in the eyes of someone who had been so brave to try and call him a liar.
Damn it if that didn't do something to him. As well as the tightening in his pants.
Fuck. No. That wouldn't be right.
You're his student, and whatever was stirring down there went against everything he stood for as a professor of his experience, as well as everything he believed in as an individual.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
While the feeling of his slacks tightened, his grip on reality loosened.
"Get out," he mutters. You stare at him in disbelief.
"I… what?" You ask, dumbfounded. He only stares at you, his lips pressed in a thin line.
"Did your ears fall off? I said, get out. I will decide if you even deserve to have another chance in my class. Before then, I want you out of my sight.
You stare, your lower lip trembling as you try to grapple with the tone of his voice - like even the sight of you disgusted him.
Nevertheless, you stand up, grabbing your bag from the wooden floor of his office, and you rush out, closing the door behind you.
You just stand there for a minute after, the shock of what had just happened not settling in immediately.
Until it finally does, and you just let out a choked sob at the realization you might actually fail one of your majors just because of your own lack of discipline. But really, who could you blame but yourself?
As you walk back to the law department building, remembering Atty. Higuruma was waiting for you, you know you had to talk to him about it - or at least, mention what just happened. But would that even be appropriate? Sure, he was the one who invited you to be his plus one, but those were all invitations you could've said no to.
Mr. Higuruma always maintained and reminded you that if the workload was becoming too much, he would adjust it to your needs as a student and intern.
At the end of the day, you only really had yourself to blame.
You could only hope Professor Kento finds some mercy for you by next week.
© cornerlipscar 2025
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Spiral Wave :
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