#Teacher Gakuho x student reader

[writermask-0807]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART TWO - TEACHER GAKUHO ASANO X STUDENT READER

A/n: Heyyy, I'm baaackkkk. How long's it been? A month? Two?? Before u come at me with the pitchforks and knives, just know that I'm already dead. So, as you can see, I did a terribly horrible job in fulfilling the request of a dear, beloved follower, even tho I did try my best. And my sincerest of apologies for finally updating it so late. I tried so many versions before i finally settled on this one. And this isn't perfect either, but I drove all of my efforts in it, so hope u like! But before u read, just know that multiple words will be reused cus my vocabulary is painfully short, and English is my second language, sorry 😭. Also, this is jot finished yet, cuz I broke it into parts, p cus it was wayyy too long. And I'm already working on the next part, and hopefully, I'll update soon. And someone, please, PLEASE, TELL ME HOW TO GET ITA,ICS BCUS FOR THE LIFE OF ME I CANNOT FIND ANY!!!!

Warnings: teacher/student relationship, OOC Gakuho, mentions of violence, and lots and lootsss of things here that don't make no sense. You'll understand once u read.

Edit: also, I did try my best to make the reader as innocent as I could.

Hope you enjoy!!!

THE tentative graze of his smooth, alabaster skin was warm and comforting against your blanching flesh, slim, slender digits coiling delicately around your (admittedly much smaller) wrist in a cautious hold, the soft pad of his thumb unconsciously stroking your sallow flesh as he studied the darkening bruise, and his thumb came to innocently rest at your racing pulse, veiled by the ghostly sheet of white that was your paling skin.

Gaunt, pale fingertips were feather-light and delicate as they splayed across your wrist, feeling the goose-flesh hum across your sensitive skin at his soft, probing touch, a ghosting kiss of marble against porcelain, as the tips of his searching fingers fluttered and brushed fleetingly, cautiously, against your blemished skin, gently tracing the outline of the purpling bruise garlanding your wrist, and snaking up your arm in dark, painful whorls of unhealthy, mottled blue. The print of harsh hands against the fragile, tainted porcelain of your flesh was still fresh with the remnant of the searing agony that'd accompanied it, the irritated flesh raw and sore and aching, even under the ginger curl of his careful fingers.

You lowered your head, ashamed, and unable to meet the smouldering garnet of his questioning gaze, your free hand clenching into a whitening fist as you clutched the flimsy fabric of your skirt, a desperate prayer for courage on your laboring breath and quivering lips, as your throat clenched, and heart stuttered in protest within your tightening chest. You absolutely could not cry in front of him, could not show any signs of weakness, not when you were sure he was also suffering the same cruel fate you'd been subjected to. Not now, not ever. But even as you repeatedly chanted this mantra again and again in your mind, your vision blurred with the prickles of the pearlescent liquid. You willed the accursed tears to stop, but they didn't, only accumulating in a hazy fog misting your glittering e/c orbs.

{You were suddenly thankful that the tousled, unkempt strands of your h/c-shaded hair fell down with your stooping chin and hunched shoulders, veiling the misery and the hurt, and the bright glimmer of unshed tears in your regretful eyes.}

Gakuho was silent as he regarded your petite, trembling form coolly, rich magenta optics glittering with a cold fury, and swirling with an explosion of scarlet that held an uncanny resemblance to freshly spilt blood, but his will hung thick and heavy in the gloom of the darkening atmosphere, and the delicate, tangled strings of unsaid questions and words threaded unspoken, tangible in the palpable tension that clouded the air. Your heart lodged in your throat, strangling the breath out of you, your rapid heartbeat and erratic breathing thundering a chaotic din in your ears, deafening you with its consistent, roaring hammer, as your heart rattled against your ribcage, threatening to break the bones, and escape its domain.

And although you couldn't meet the hot burn of his crimson gaze, you could feel it. The violet glare of his deceptively calm, amethyst orbs scorched your flesh with a white-hot intensity, and the bizarre sensation of those celestial hues peering deep into the depths of your very soul grew more and more prominent with the bleeding second, those smouldering, unfathomable orbs sifting with a luminescent galaxy of dying stars as he fixed you with a hollow, expressionless stare.

You felt naked underneath the weight of his fierce, cosmic gaze, every secret and every lie laid bare and untouched for him to toy with, almost as though the cool hyacinth of his eyes melted your flesh and peeled away what was left of the taut sinews, revealing the concealed, polished core, the very fibers that threaded the fabric of your existence, latching onto your flesh like a tight second skin, unbearably heavy and unwavering, drilling holes into the bone of your skull, unrelenting.

And yet still, he did not speak.

The silence was suffocating, torturous, as it tormented you with dark thoughts and withering whispers. Each and every doubt that'd ever crossed your thoughts were overlapping now, distorted and satanic as they wormed their way into your head, a whirl of dark emotions pulsing through your blood like a frigid poison, freezing you from the inside out, and swarming your mind with nothing but white noise and unprecedented fear. And though you couldn't bear to meet the dark mauve of his eyes, you knew Gakuho's sharp features had been smoothed out to present a glacial expression, sharp, sloping features harsh with a cold indifference, bereft of any emotion, and it scared you. Was he angry at you? Was he disappointed? Was he -

Each of these negative thoughts only served to worsen your anxiety as it rippled and contorted restlessly through your consciousness, shifting what felt like shards of broken glass in the empty cavity that was your chest, a pain pulsating and writhing and aching like a thing alive, something raw and vulnerable and distraught, something terribly, awfully human.

And it hurt. God, it hurt more than you were able to convey, this feeling of overpowering helplessness, this wild desperation to cherish, and be cherished, to protect, and be protected, to love and be loved…

You tried to quell the bitter sting of uncontrollable tears that followed this train of thought, obstinately willing them to stop as they dampened the corners of your eyes, and clouded your wavering, unsteady vision with a storm of unshed tears, your lustrous e/c hues boiling with the burning heat of your scalding tears, and failed miserably, as the pearlescent liquid carved a hot, salty stream of tears down your flushed cheeks, dripping down your nose as you lowered your head, desperately trying to hide them.

You stifled the sob that threatened to tear through your throat and shake your quivering frame, feeling your throat burn and heart contrict within your squeezing chest, the agonizing sensation of your lungs feeling as though they'd been doused in liquid fire accompanied by the stuttering beats of your heart, as you did so.

itwasallyourfaultallyOuRFaUltYOURFAULTYOURFAULT - !

All your fault that you had been willing to offer your naive, childish heart to a man who could easily crush it, but who instead cradled it lovingly in the broad cusp of his palms, your fault that you'd allowed him to steal your first kiss, your first love, your fault that you welcomed him with open arms despite the strong command of darkness that followed in its wake. Your fault, that you chose to bear the brunt of the chaos you'd known would be inevitable to follow next, your fault for bearing the harsh words and devious whispers, your fault for hiding the bruises that they scarred you with. Your fault for muddying his name and reputation, for staining what'd once been pristine white, your fault for being selfish, your fault for letting the rumors spark and remaining ignorant of how fast they spread. Your fault for thinking that you would've been able to remain strong, and yet here you were, crumbling into little pieces in front of your partner, when he hadn't even spoken.

You were barely able to register the dull ache throbbing in your clenched fist, as you crumpled fistfuls of your skirt in your tightening grasp, the thin, sharp edges of your nails digging deep into the flesh of your palm as you did so, ignoring the burning sting of your bruise as it rekindled back to life with a vicious vengeance.

You felt out of touch with reality, detached from the plane of existence, suspended in a world of frozen time that you'd somehow fabricated inside your mind, far away from the reaches of those who'd hurt you, but the imaginative safe haven was delicate and fragile enough that you felt the pain you were inflicting upon yourself. The vivid intensity of the painful shifting inside your chest, the spreading ache in your whitening knuckles, the delicate weight of each ragged breath escaping your lungs in greedy gulps for burning air, and heaving your chest, shallow and desperate, the steady trickles of hot, salty tears soaking the porcelain of your cheeks.

And then, the flutter of your tear-bejewelled lashes retreated the white of your skin as your eyes flew open, widening in surprise, -(you hadn't even realized that you'd squeezed them shut, hadn't realized that you'd failed to keep those damn tears at bay)- as the familiar warmth of his gentle embrace cocooned your petite frame, welcoming and comforting, placing an abrupt halt to your tearful blabbering -(that you'd unknowingly cried out loud)-.

The broad flat of his palm coming to rest at your rigid spine coaxed you into that familiar comfort of his soft hug, as he lifted you with ease, settling you comfortably between his splayed thighs, a gentle tug drawing you closer to him, the older male's slender, broad frame dwarfing your much smaller form as he pressed himself against you, exchanging slow, deep breaths that mingled with your own wistful half-sighs, his calming inhales a delicate weight of warmth ghosting the sallow flesh of your collarbone, the brushes of his ember-colored hair tickling your supple flesh in a teasing graze as he leaned down, mouth pressing a tender, chaste kiss to the base of your neck, hoping to heal the hurt, soft lips silky and tender against your flesh. Your breath hitched, catching in your throat wetly, heart stuttering, dimming e/c hues widening, heat blooming across your cheeks despite the shimmer of tears and relief glistening in your eyes.

His grasp was gentle as he held your hand in his own, much larger one, cautious of your wound even in that moment of innocent intimacy, as his gaunt fingers intertwined with your own in a meaningful embrace. His lips were ginger and gentle, softer than sin as he worked his way, trailing a set of butterfly-kisses down your inner wrist, and you whimpered - not at the sharp sting of the purpling bruise that bristled defiantly under his healing touch, but at the care and love he showered you with - knowing you didn't deserve something so fickle and good as this, when all you'd done was cry and ruin everything.

Your bruise lying forgotten, and unshed tears ceasing their crystalline flow, the remnants heavy on your fluttering lashes, you curled into the tenderness of his gentle touch as he cupped your face, thumb brushing away the glistening trail of tears against the pale white of your flesh, catching a few of the glittering ice-crystals as he soothed them away.

"It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." Gakuho finally spoke, and his voice was nothing more than a smooth, sultry caress of thin, whispering satin and rich, dark velvet as it tumbled past his lips in a soft, private voice, trailing a velvety kiss down your spine, warming you from the inside out as it chased away the forever-present chill in your bones, honeyed tones thick and raw with genuine emotion - emotion he usually guarded and never bothered to show, and suddenly, this quiet, simple affirmation from him was enough, enough to satiate the hunger twisting and boiling your insides, enough to ease the ache plaguing your mind and the world-weariness clinging to your bones, enough for you to finally feel lighter, freer.

Large, gentle fingertips cupped your jaw tenderly, urging your gaze upwards, fingers delicate against the pulse that hammered violrntly in your neck as your eyes met. And his eyes, those vivid, luminous orbs that bled garnet with the glitter of stardust, aglow with the fervent gleam of suppressed, quiet rage and the dusty brilliance of the cosmos, softened with unadulterated sincerity as your hot gazes collided, darkening cosmic hues glimmering with a tide of stars as the rich magenta of his eyes glistened warmly, both affectionate and fond as he regarded your petite frame with the stirrings of guilt, and a gentle, small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The amethyst of his luminescent, galactic orbs conveyed more than words ever would, as the rich hyacinth of his eyes melted into a soft, revering look, raw and thick with a nebulous swirl of abstract emotion - emotion you normally would've thought he wasn't capable of expressing- the heavy weight of gnawing regret and worry, and the honest sincerity, and the forbidden, tender love that you both shared with each and every exchanged breath and stolen kiss, all held simultaneously in his smouldering gaze, and all of them, reserved for you, and only. The sheer gravity and power and the belief he held within his emotions stifled you, sending your mind reeling and eyes brimming with tears that had no right to be there.

You felt the familiar flutter return to your chest and soaring heart, buzzing restlessly like a hummingbird and alive with pure, unfiltered ecstasy - though from the sheer amount of relief or joy that overwhelmed you, you couldn't tell.

Your shoulders sagging in resigned defeat and relief, you wordlessly slumped against him, your frame melting against him, as you threw an arm around the nape of his neck to anchor yourself deeper against him, feeling thoroughly drained, as if all the energy had been sucked out of you, limbs hanging limp as you burrowed deeper into the warmth of his embrace, supporting your weight against his sturdy, lithe frame, and Gakuho snaked a protective arm around your waist, pressing your bodies together in response. He brought a gentle palm to caress the back of your head, gaunt digits weaving a calming rhythm through the rich locks of e/c hair, washing your worries away, strong arms cradling you delicately, almost as though he feared you'd shatter at the slightest of touches, like the porcelain doll you appeared to be, fragile. And you felt just that, a marionette with cut strings, no longer forcing you to dance to the tune of your nearing doom, but now you laid in a broken, sorry heap, unable to draw strength nor courage, almost as though you were slowly crumbling from within, withering like a rose crushed beneath the first frost.

Now that all the tension and pressure had fled its unbearably heavy perch on your drooping shoulders, you felt the fatigue plaguing your bones and twisting your heavy soul in a hollow, bitter ache return with full force, slamming you with the stifling force of a white-hot rod, wrestling the breath out of you, the stress of all the previous weeks' torture finally taking its toll on you. Your body suddenly felt heavier than it had ever had as you slouched against the older male, a sharp jolt of pain splitting the arch of your spine apart as the stuttering of your bones got replaced by something much darker, much heavier. The world-weariness that'd strung itself into the fabric of your existence seemed to weigh more prominently than before, a searing brand claiming mark on you once more, and you breathed a tired sigh, eyelids slowly fluttering, exhaustion seeping a lethargic sensation into the very pores of your existence.

And there, nestled in the arms of your lover, and cocooned in the firm safety of his loving embrace, you were suddenly plunged into a state of quiet, a world of weary calm where you could feel the delicate weight of every shallow, exchanged breath, heat and warmth and scent mingling, the soft caress of flesh against flesh, the delicate brushes of lips against lips, the steady beating of your heart echoing with his, the twine of his nimble fingers laced with yours, the rush of red flowing beneath your flesh…

And suddenly, something else shifted inside your chest, a different emotion pulling at your heartstrings, a slow-burning flame of determination that had you burrowing further into him in the sudden upsurge of courage, and adrenaline pumping wildly through your veins.

"Gakuho…"

You'd spoken up before you realized what you were doing, and for some unfathomable reason, you felt more bolder than you'd ever been, reckless, even, when you would've usually shriveled underneath his gaze, too timid to voice out your thoughts. His name was foreign on your lips, an exotic word tasting rich and ambrosial on your tongue, as you whispered his name in utterance for perhaps the very first time, (you really needed to stop calling him 'Sensei'), and you felt your partner hum in reply as he hastened to mask his surprise, a throaty and rich rumble that vibrated within his chest, tickling your own skin with goosebumps until you felt a silly smile bloom at the sheer absurdity of it all, -(because here you where, crying your heart out one moment and dazed by his very presence the next)- intoxicated by the overwhelmingly delicious fragrance of spice and crushed hyacinths he naturally secreted, and drunk on the sudden boldness your move had prompted, the sunny grin highlighting your cheekbones, as your lips glossed into your signature bright, carefree beam, despite the ache forming in your shoulder blades, and the tiredness that made your eyes flutter with drowsiness.

You must've looked quite the sight, with eyes heavy with undeterred sleep, arms limp with lack of energy haphazardly thrown around his torso for support, and that stupid, fathomlessly happy smile tugging at your mouth, because there was that warm, playful glint in his plum optics again as they bled carmine, illuminated by the dying light of the weeping dusk beyond the window. It only made you smile wider, knowing that all the torment you'd suffered, all the harsh words and violating touches, they were all worth it. Worth this, worth him.

Gakuho tipped your head back, fingers once again grazing your pulse as he took your chin in his forefinger and thumb, allowing you to lock gazes as your tearless, gentle opals of swirling e/c collided with the dusty hues of star-strewn dusk, amusement and wicked mirth dancing in the pools of rich hyacinth and darkening muave, cosmic-lidded and exotic in their magnificent, violet glory as his lips curved into a foxy smirk.

"Oh? And what has my dearest so pleased?" The honeyed tones were back, spilling from his lips like the richest of wines and the most luxurious of dark velvets and silks, his amusement so tangible that you could taste it, light voice shifting the undercurrents of the tense atmosphere from before.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks at the endearment, and you faltered, throat suddenly dry as he prompted you to speak, feeling that surge of boldness in which you'd spoken his name ebb away, leaving you to fend for yourself. "I-..." The words withered on your tongue, meek voice wilting at the back of your throat, and you felt as though your mind was swept clean, blank and unthinking. You swallowed thickly, unconsciously crumpling fistfuls of his suit in your tightening grasp as you averted your gaze from his own curious one, cheeks flaming crimson in embarrassment at both your own stupidity and what you were about to do.

You could practically feel the arch of his sleek, perfectly manicured brow furrow with question, even with your eyes focused on the lavish shade of deep wine colouring his attire, and you knew him well enough to know that that wicked, silver smirk did not leave those irresistibly plump lips, only broadening until it was all sharp teeth with not-really-nice intentions, showing you that he had caught onto something. Him and his perceptiveness was going to be the death of you…

"Hm? I didn't quite catch that…"

Gakuho crooned softly, sultry, honeyed voice dripping like silk butter and bewitched, molten glass from cold lips, dark velvet falling in a soft, reverent murmur, alluring magenta hues painted crimson by rich, liquid sangria, blood-drenched, and moon-kissed, and sparkling with wicked mischief and stardust as he leaned in closer, the warm heat of his breath fanning gently across your porcelain skin, and you drew in a sharp intake of breath, heart swelling and thumping loudly underneath your ribs, as the careful flutter of his curled lips brushed delicately past your ear, skimming teasingly light across your skin, slowly, oh so achingly slow, deliberately fooling you into thinking he was about about capture your lips, as your eyes fluttered shut in eager compliance, before he finally pressed a tender, dove's kiss to your throbbing temple, as though to alleviate the ache he somehow knew was plaguing there.

The look on his face was frustratingly smug as he pulled back, the corners of his mouth drawing upwards in a show of amusement as he assessed your shy, embarrassed state; the wobble in your irresistibly soft, pink, dewy lips, the eruption of scarlet dusting your rosy cheeks darkening, the shudder tickling your supple, tender flesh, the hunch of your arched, stiff spine, the bite of your fingers tightening into the taut muscle of his shoulder in its vice-like grip as you held onto him for support, the innocent yearning simmering rich and hot in your averted, meek gaze…

And all for a chaste, teasing kiss, and not even graced on the lips…

And this time, he couldn't cloak the shimmer of molten delight that twinkled garnet and delicious in the amethyst of his eyes. You were simply too adorable for him him not tease, too innocent, and too gullible to be stained by the horrors of the world, the harsh truths of reality, and he'd be damned if he would let some rumors spoil your purity. The coil of anger he'd carefully hidden from you clenched tightly within his chest at this dark thought, a kindling flame of rage slowly forming, threatening to consume him to his very roots, surging like molten lava through his veins, scalding rage flooding the very essence of his being, the hot simmer of his boiling wrath pulsing like poison beneath his unblemished flesh, the steady and rapid flow of undiluted, raw power. He was ready to unleash all hell loose upon that filthy creature, when he would be able to lay his hands on it.

But first, he needed to attend to you first. Poor, innocent, naive, sweet you. After all, you came first before anything else. Smoothing out his scathing expression into that teasing smile once more, he turned his attention on you. He didn't have to try hard for the false smirk to appear genuine, one glance at your heavy blush and trembling form and the hidden, secret pout you stole away from him, and knowing that he was the cause for it, he didn't have to fake the twist of the smirk dancing on his lips.

You felt color rush to your cheeks, heat exploding in a burst of blooming crimson, as you lowered your flustered gaze to the broad, lean flat of his chest, -(that somehow rippled with the swell of concealed, defined muscles)-, unable to meet the rich, bleeding hyacinth of his eyes, and the victoriously sly, twisting smirk perched prettily on his lips, your racing heart and ringing pulse thudding a symphony in your skull as you worried your lip, biting back the childish pout that'd threatened to tilt your lips.

Rekindled shudders licked at your creamy flesh with a renewed vehemence, as the tips of his gaunt, slender fingers gently pressed into the taut muscle of your shoulder blade, easing the knots of tension that had formed there, trailing slowly, deliberately, down the shuddering arch of your spine, tender touches spilling like raw silk over glass, the heat of his palm searing through the thin fabric of your uniform and mingling with yours as he perched his broad palm at the cusp of your stiff, rigid spine, and you could feel the warmth of his skin all too well, along with his body heat with how closely you were pressed together, and it made your head feel fuzzy and light, as he drew you closer, closer still, that maddeningly, stupidly smug smirk curling his lips in pure delight, looking utterly satisfied as a cat with a bowl of cream, and you knew, despite all your futile attempts, he'd managed to catch a glimpse of your expression, making you redden in embarrassment, your fingers digging into the lush, rich fabric of his shirt.

You felt the rumble of his chuckle before you heard it, a pleasantly rich and deep timbre bubbling up in his chest, a mirthful breath of quiet laughter that shook the sturdy broadness of his shoulders, and tickled your supple flesh, making your cheeks ignite in a violent blush and punch the air from your lungs, and you vaguely wondered if you were going mad, sanity slipping from you just as easily words did in his presence.

"Honestly, you're so adorable, Y/N. I simply can't help myself." Gakuho cooed, tone thick and colored with warm amusement, violet hues glittering with an impossibly soft, tender emotion that made your chest squeeze, and heart flutter, for electricity to ripple through your veins, and for the brittle diamonds of tears to once again to gather in the lids of your eyes, though this time, these tears were not of anguish or even despair. These tears, shimmering bright and pearlescent in the waning sun's light, were of happiness, of relief. Of unadulterated, unconditional love, that his eyes mirrored.

Seeing him like this, so carefree and gentle and uncaring, the very picture of domesticity despite you both being worlds apart, and knowing that it was a privilege that only you got to see, made you wonder if it was going to last forever. If all the pain and chaos you suffered was worth it this- whatever this was, whatever the both of you shared right now, if this relationship was going to be as fickle, as ephemeral as it felt to you, and the realization made something painful shift inside your chest, feeling as though shards of broken glass were sifting a writhing, roiling mass beneath your flesh.

But as bittersweet as this dawning realization was, forbidden fruit perhaps always did taste the best, despite the sour aftertaste that accompanied it, burning bitter on the tip of your tongue. Despite the hurt that came, the bitter consequences of indulging in the forbidden, in the end, you wouldn't have traded it for the world.

And for once, it didn't feel wrong, this precious intimacy, this togetherness, even though it should have, and the niggling sense of guilt worming its way into your head was immediately forgotten, as you relished in the warmth of his hug, the feel of his marble flesh against the fragile porcelain of yours, the steady protection of his presence, and the sense of belonging that the press of your bodies intertwined in a soft embrace elicited from you, the silky caress of his voice breathing along your skin, the heat of his minty, fresh breath licking your flesh, the brushes of his ember-colored hair tickling you as he leaned down, foreheads nearly touching in a gesture of gentle affection, even though this- this relationship that you both shared was illegitimate, wrong by social standards.

The ripple of surprise and worry cross his pale, flawless features et your unexpected reaction was almost imperceptible, but you managed to catch a glimpse of the shock painting his plum hues with the rich shade of dripping sangria, through the haze of your tears clouding your vision, before he managed to regain his composure, concealing the cracks in the fragile glass of his mask, but the playful smirk had fled the full, sensous velvet of his lips.

"What's wrong?" A soft, velvety murmur ripe with worry fell from honeyed lips, his broad palm coming to tenderly caress your cheek as he lifted your watery gaze to meet his own, and the genuine, guarded concern marring the milky, uncut marble of his sharp features, and stitching his eyebrows together in a frown had you hastening to assure him, a wobbly smile shaping your plump lips, despite the onslaught of tears draining hot and salty down your flushed cheeks.

"I-it's nothing! I'm just… I'm just happy. Really, really happy." You finally admitted, sniffling a little as your fists unconsciously curled tighter around his torso, and though your heart stuttered uncertainly underneath your ribcage, your words were genuine. The whirl of kaleidoscopic, abstract emotions surging through your veins felt real, genuine enough for you to finally confess to him, voice quiet and gaze timid, although the sheer impact the feelings of insecurity and embarrassment that followed had the uncontrollable, white-hot liquid sting your eyes bitterly again, as you gnawed at your bottom lip, cheeks dusted by a delicate shade primrose.

God, you hated feeling like this. You hated the pour of tears spilling down your cheeks, the hurt in your chest and the ache plaguing your very bones, the fatigue weighing on you, the vulnerability that he unknowingly exposed you to, and you hated the agonizing pain that loving him brought on you, and yet you couldn't stop. You didn't want to stop. You had fallen in too deep for you to wade back up.

And then, there it was again, that beautiful, gentle smile tugging at his mouth again, the one that had your heart malfunctioning in your chest, not the usual teasing, mischievous smirk, but a ghost of a tender, genuine smile playing on his lips, the one that spoke volumes despite being nothing more than a soft upturn, an imperceptible twitch of lips. The one that pulled at your heartstrings, filled with understanding, and consoling you with words that remained unspoken, hovering slight and unsaid on his tongue, and it only made you cry harder, moisture bubbling angry and wet on the edge of your vision, streaking down in thick rivulets down your cheeks, and his molten gaze softened as he peered down at your lustrous e/c hues, doe eyes enlarged by the glaze of tears pooling in them.

Gakuho leaned down, -(even in this position, his height still towered over your own, an unfair advantage)- until your foreheads were pressed together, arms coiling tighter around your petite form as he pressed himself closer to you to steady your trembling, and without warning, his lips descended on yours.

And not unlike your first kiss shared with him, his mouth captured yours, guiding your lips with a maturity that you were beginning to grasp, dripping with honey and the rich taste of ripe, thick wine that intoxicated you, mixing with the salt of your forlorn tears, as his lips moved against yours in a perfected synchrony, an effortless dance without practice, leaving you feeling dazed as you gripped his shoulder for support, as his mouth shifted and moulded against yours in a perfect, sculpted fit, the silken, rich velvet of his full lips brushing against yours in a tender, chaste kiss, slow and blissful as it melted all your worries away. And although it wasn't nearly as passionate as your previous, secret endeavors, and rather a fleeting, soft brushing of lips meant as a comforting consolation, a dove's kiss and the flutter of powdery wings, it left you feeling as though you'd been blessed by summer's warm kiss, leaving your heart soaring, as it swelled and thumped wildly underneath your ribs, warming in an explosion of happiness and relief.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, unfurling like a thousand blooms still fresh with the remnants of Winter's presence, as he gently pulled away, thumb grazing your jaw affectionately, brushing fleetingly, tenderly across the plump swell of your bottom lip, before leaning in again and pressing a delicate, gentle peck on your quivering lips, shifting your marred arm in his ginger grasp before rewarding you with your scarred skin with a soft, careful kiss.

"I'm happy, as well. More than you could ever imagine." He murmured against your flesh, voice soft, gently so as you breathed a shaky sigh, shuddering against him, as you burrowed deeper into his warmth, your body flush against his, arms wound around each other in a meaningful embrace, slow, calm breaths exchanged with the rise and fall of your shoulders, and scents mingling, moulding into one.

Perhaps he didn't know how much the effect his steadying words had on you, but you felt it more intimately than his sharp perception ever would. The quake in your shoulders, the radiant smile sunnily carving your lips, the misty sheen of unshed tears lurking in the lids of your eyes, clinging onto your lashes, the heavy fatigue that suddenly seemed to ease, taut muscles relaxing into his touch, as you blew out a soft breath, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and the sharp jut of his chin came to rest on the crown of your head, palm pressed against the column of your spine as he eased you into his towering form, hearts fluttering in unison, as he drew sensous circles on your back with the gaunt tips of his fingers.

And as ethereal and fragile as your tilted world appeared to be, there, nestled comfortably in the welcoming warmth of his consoling embrace, cocooned in the strong, steady arms of your partner, you finally felt content, all the worries and doubts that'd ever plagued you simply melting away, and for once, nothing mattered in those precious, treasured moments. There was just you and him, and the harsh, embittered truth of reality faded away, all the pain and the hurt ceasing to exist, his status as your teacher and you his student no longer looming over you like dark clouds, heavy with the threat of pouring rain.

Even if this wouldn't last, you would treasure every precious, bleeding second, because nothing tasted sweeter than forbidden fruit, despite the bittersweet aftertaste it left in your mouth.

[lilbrainbigheartz]

Karma Akabane x reader (dunnothenameyet)

Chapter 1

Well what the fuck.

Yep the first words that came on my mind after seeing my now yellow octopus teacher "Korosensei" in front of me.

Korosensei: "Alright students, let's get started"If you didn't know...Korosensei is a creature who destroyed the moon last year and now his ass is in our classroom in the 3-E building...Our mission is to save the earth and our target is our teacher.

But seriously, is the government that incompentent, so they give us MIDDLESCHOOLERS the task to eliminate Korosensei?

Mr Karasuma was standing next to him and his first words were:"Please understand what I'm about to say is a state secret"

Imagine, you are a special agent in the government and suddenly you get that task to watch over some octopus creature teaching a middleschool class who also are supposed to assassinate him.

Sucks I guess.

Just kidding.

After Mr Karasuma explained what the deal was about Korosensei (and that he is super fast in his Mach 20) we all actually had our first period of class with Korosensei. To be honest, he is actually pretty good at teaching. Way better than our principal Gakuhoe-

I MEAN! Gakuho Asano.

During my first days at school I actually was able to make some new 'friends'.The blonde girl Rio Nakamura was already my favourite, because her and I have the same sense of humor.

Nagisa and Kayano were also pretty fine to talk to.

But that was it honestly.

[gav-san]

Teacher Teacher~

Gakuho Asano x Reader

Gakuho Asano x Reader

Fandom: Assassination Classroom

(I am just in the mood to simp for him, okay. I can't find another fic's and a person has needs.)

-------------

It’s the Demon;

The words that threatened to cross your well-mannered tongue are curled back as reason kicks in. You immediately nose-dived behind your curtains and fell to the floor, the cool wood unforgiving on your hands and knees.

You started shaking as you heard the creak from the rotten old porch.

Why, why, why was he here?!?

It was really too late to feign ignorance or sneak out the back. Odds were he had planned for both scenarios. That cursed intellect of his always knew, and always kept you feeling off-kilter, and very much on purpose.

The knock was measured. Not too hard, not too long, a ploy to try and get your curiosity aroused, to make it seem like there was nothing menacing waiting on the other side of the door.

But despite his human appearance, you knew the truth. It was a true monster that awaited, a centipede with fangs of poison and malice that would pounce with the slightest show of weakness.

Fear kept you to the floor, but you knew that if you didn’t answer the door, retribution would follow. After all, your ex-husband was a vengeful creature. The divorce and child custody case was proof of that.

You flinched at the mere thought.

Darling, marry someone boring. You’re too nice for that one.

It’s like your mother returned from the grave, her words always in your head. You hated that she had the last laugh.

Life rarely gave a break to those who were kind. And unfortunately, you were very kind. You had learned early that barely a day passed that you didn’t seek to help someone out so you could feel the glow of that special warmth.

It’s why you chose to become a simple guidance counselor despite the excellent grades and offers from varying universities.

Nothing would ever fulfill you like helping others.

And it surprised you when others didn’t see it that way. Did other people not see that cat stuck in the tree? The man late to his interview in need of directions? To help a poor old woman carry groceries brought a feeling of joy that was bar none.

Until the devil came calling.

Kunugigaoka Junior High used to be a nice place. A solid school with decent standing that pushed a good portion of its students to good colleges.

You had deeply enjoyed working with the students as a guidance counselor, and thanks to your younger than average age, you connected with them.

And you had, along with most of the other female teachers, enjoyed sightseeing the cram teacher as he trudged up and down the giant mountain. Why such a handsome, remarkable man chose such a calling was the talk of the school, and not a touch of suspicion rose from your gut.

Gakuho Asano had none of the signs of being a ruthless demagogue with a sadistic schooling dogma. He was, seemingly, so very kind, and it drew you in to the worst mistake of your life. One deceptively wrapped in a package that looked like everything you had ever dreamed off.

He wasn’t a ruthless, vicious creature intent on causing you endless misery.

Not then, anyhow.

Oh, how surprised you had been when you closed your school office one evening to find him waiting outside, a popular old British novel in hand.

Pretty eyes under long lashes, staring at you with a fierce intensity, caused your face to heat up, cheeks stinging.

He smiles, holding up the book.

It was novel you had read the previous week, gushing to your friends over its intricate plot and foreshadowing details.

And he had noticed.

That should have been a warning in itself.

He didn’t mince words, but he didn’t come off as a threat as he offered you a handsome smile, your heart fluttering as he forewent honorifics.

“-Talk with me?”

You flinched as that same man, voice older now, said your name when you didn’t answer. But you couldn’t, not as memory after memory tied your tongue.

It made you bitter that time had only made him more handsome and charming, to most.

So he continued, once again starting with your name.

“- I know it’s been a while, but I was hoping you would return my messages. I can understand your apprehension-" His voice is honey and silk, and poison.

Oh, how excited that he finally was admitted to terrorizing you.

“I’d like to take you to dinner. With Gakushu, of course.”

And there it was.

The bait.

Fear had kept you silent before that, it was finally overtaken by a touch of outrage. Was he trying to bribe you with the beloved son you hadn’t been able to see in nearly three years? The one he didn’t even pretend to care about unless it was before some judge he had already paid off?!?

It was a spark of your feisty former self.

But it doesn’t last.

Your fists curl into balls, as your cowardice sickens you. You still can’t speak.

He wavers, and for half a moment, you believe that there might be something sincere in his voice. It quickly passes, leaving you silently bawling on the floor, your worn shirt wet from the encounter.

“I can understand that you may not want to speak to me. I’m going to leave the number of Gakushu’s phone, so if you wish to speak to him, I’m sure he’d be happy to hear from you.”

Silence.

A small click of heels indicates his movement, but they stop before stepping off the old wood of the porch.

His next words are said with a in unusual candor, and you feel an unnerving shiver at the awkward silence. It’s strange, unusual for him to be undecided.

So His words strike your chest like a gunshot.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’ve recently realized that… I’ve made many mistakes. Some I’m sure are unforgivable. Especially our son.”

Unable to stop the tears, you do your best to remain silent as the man says things that you thought had become impossible.

But you don’t respond because you have fallen for his traps before. And no matter how your heart feels, your mind screams at the grave injustice he has inflicted upon you.

Lost jobs, a smear campaign without rebuttal, constant stalking and harassment. All because you are kind.

“I love you.” He says it without malice, like a regretful realization. "I've made lots of mistakes, but my greatest regret is turning into a man unable to protect you from myself."

Your mouth drops open, gut seizing like it had been punched.

“I hope one day I can say it to your face, and make amends. I want to eat dinner with you and our son again.”

No, No, No! No, there was no way this demon was getting back into your life! No matter how you craved him, and the goodness that was your marriage, you had to remember. Remember how utterly cruel he is.

You don’t open the door.

It still hurts as words you would have killed to hear seven years ago linger as his footsteps fade.

Only then do you break into tears and just sob.

[writermask-0807]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT PART THREE - TEACHER GAKUHO X STUDENT READER

A/n: Hellooooo peoplesss. Writermask is back from the dead! Anyways, I'm finally finished with Forbidden Fruit, and once again, my sincerest of apologies for bad content, but do know that I try my best. I think I'll be lucky if I manage to get even one like to this post, cus I wrote it wayyyy too detailed and I'm pretty sure it's boring... I did try to fix it, and here we are. Hope you enjoy!

Keys: {} for his most prominent thoughts.

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, OOC Gakuho, cringe writing, (blame my sleep-deprived ass), and most words will be reused, since my vocabulary is painfully short, and English is my second language. Also, a lot here will not make complete sense, and sorta violent Gakuho???

Anyways, enough of my crap. Enjoy!

PERHAPS, at times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, Gakuho thought idly, lazily twirling the accursed picture between his long, slender digits, rich pools of dark hyacinth drenched with the distant, hazy mists of memories, as he disinterestedly studied the photograph flicking between the gaps of his nimble fingers.

Because earlier that evening, he had barely managed to compose himself at the sight of you, his precious darling, with the glassy glaze of unshed tears brimming thickly in your lustrous e/c hues, as they had swirled with a kaleidoscope of vivid, vibrant colors, rich with a wealth of emotions that unknowingly displayed the inner battle you'd been torn between, the boiling turmoil that he knew was tormenting your soul, coming in the bitter form of the hot, scalding tears forming in your eyes, the glitter of the salty remnants clinging insistently to your long lashes as they fluttered slowly, trying to blink the tears away, and he'd watched, half mesmerized and helpless, brain malfunctioning for a few short seconds, as the pearlescent liquid soaked the delicate porcelain of your reddened cheeks.

You'd looked so innocent then, doe eyes enlarged with the hot, stinging swell of unshed tears, your dainty palms curled around his much broader shoulders for support as you'd collapsed against him, petite, crumpled up form trembling with quaking tremors as you'd shuddered against him, the h/c shaded tips of your hair sticking out haphazardly at odd angles, your bottom lip, pink and dewy and irresistible, wobbling with a barely restrained sob, which he knew was clamping your throat, as shudders licked vehemently at your tender, supple flesh, so vulnerable and delicate, this fragile, fragile doll of a meek, timid girl, all pretty eyes and red lips, blanching flesh and ivory, unblemished complexion, crafted by the most flawless of porcelains, as though sculpted by the hands of Gods, and bred by forgotten deities.

And yet, you'd reeked of unbridled sorrow and misery, that reflected in a sharp flash of that aching, aching hurt that flickered painfully in your glimmering orbs of e/c, as you'd stolen a frightened glance at his impassive facade, and he'd felt guilt ram into him with the wrecking force of a freight train, the sweltering tip of a white-hot rod twisting his insides with a sharp feeling that left him slightly breathless, and in silent bafflement at the sheer amount of roaring emotion he felt, an ache he felt deep in the rattle of his bones, a resounding difference that made him feel as though something inside of him crumbled at the sight of your unwarranted despair.

Guilt pulled at his heartstrings, plucking at the delicate cords of his sanity and twisting and writhing a different sort of hurt within him, one that was foreign in his psyche, but agonizing nonetheless, the painful, albeit bizarre sensation feeling as though someone were sifting a roiling, pulsating mass of what felt like shards of broken glass beneath his flesh, making knots form in the pit of his stomach, rare anxiety twisting them with twinges of nauseating unease, and the guilt ate him alive, slowly but surely, gnawing at the frayed seams of his patience. Guilt at knowing he'd smeared your purity, staining what'd once been the very essence of innocence with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wake, colored your empty canvas with the morbid, dark shades of his own existence, had taken advantage of your naivety.

{And yet, there was that dark, dark part of him that did not regret anything, a fragment of his twisted, bitter soul that, despite the harsh consequences of dappling in the forbidden, and tasting your ripe, untouched innocence and tainting it for himself, that yearned for more, more…}

And yet, despite all superior pretences and sophisticated masquerades, in the end, he was still unfortunately human, and he was selfish, and addicted to the sugary sweetness in his bitter life that was you. And if he were an anchor for you to remain rooted, you were his salvation, the flicker of hope and the spark of light in the eternal, everlasting darkness his unfortunate existence was doused within.

So, resolve steeling with a rekindled firmness, he'd coiled his arms around your slim waist wordlessly, movements almost mechanical and stiff with abrupt shock, controlled by mere muscle memory and absent will, as his mind reeled at the sight of your beautiful, tear-stained face -{your pained expression had been so raw, so painful to behold and the odd coil of emotion inside his chest tightened, making it hard for him to breathe, and he'd felt cold fury coursing poisonously through his bloodstream, surging like molten lava and threatening to explode. No-one had the audacity harm you, his precious darling, no-one, damnit-!}-, as he'd pressed you tighter against him, steadying your quivering, small form against his larger frame, a broad palm coming to rest at the rigid column of your spine as he'd coaxed you into his firm, but gentle embrace, magenta hues glittering garnet with the heavy promise of impending doom, that he would definitely, and swiftly deliver mercilessly when he would deal with that yellow-hued menace.

{How could it have gone wrong? How could it all have gone to waste, all of his careful planning, all of his efforts rendered useless… How did it all unravel at the hands of someone as- as despicable as him? How did it still end up hurting you?!} And then, a more quiet, melancholy voice chiming in, {Despite all of his wealth and power and intellect, how did he fail to protect you…?} But he knew the answer, felt it deep within the rattle of his bones, and the ache in his thudding heart. {Because he was selfish, because of his terrible craving for your ripe, untasted innocence, and he knew it had been his fault, his fault for staining your untouched, fragile perfection, for tilting your world and painting your reality in a film of darkness. And yet, he was still unwilling to let you go, to have mercy and rid you of his dark presence. But then, it would have hurt him more than you. Indeed, he truly was selfsh, and undeserving of you, an angel in the cruel purgatory he suffered.}

"It isn't your fault. It was never your fault." He'd murmured with a firm finality, voice low and raw as he allowed a thin stream, a fraction of his raging emotions to seep into his velvety tone as he'd assured you, sultry and private and only for you to hear as he'd pressed himself closer to you, arms wound securely around your petite, frail form, breathing in the naturally sweet fragrance you secreted, alllowing the chorus of his drumming heartbeat and fluttering pulse to mingle with yours, as you'd exchanged soft, warm breaths. It wasn't your fault, because he knew it was his.

But he was selfish, and he would continue to keep you close to his aching heart.

And he'd marveled at the fact that you reciprocated his selfish desires with a burning need of your own, the thin nails of your fingers biting sharply into the bone of his shoulder blades as your arms curled tighter around his torso, face, still wet with the shimmer of tears, buried into the crook of his neck as you rested your weary head on his shoulder, mind undoubtedly clouded by a haze, and despite the occasional hitch in your stuttering breath, and sniffle catching in your throat, you'd allowed him to soothe your tears, lull your withering despair away, even after all the torture you'd soldiered through because of him, like the brave, brave girl you were. And despite everything, you'd remained happy and content nestled in his arms and swaddled in his scent, and it baffled him, baffled him just how willing you were to offer yourself up to him despite crumbling away, bit by bit, just how eager you were to please, to expose even the most intimate, personal values you held dear to your heart, show vulnerability when he could so easily twist it and turn it against you, dig blades under your flesh and watch you bleed.

But, for some incomprehensible reason, he chose to kiss instead, lips gently grazing across your soft, alabaster skin in a tender, loving reward, watching the heat bloom in a delicate dusting of crimson across your cheeks and crawling down your neck, and the shimmer of relief glistening wet and bright in your luminous eyes.

And then the air had shifted, and unspoken vows had been exchanged with your breathless gasps, and his deep, calming inhales as his mouth met yours, fervent but gentle, delicate and promising, and filled with so many emotions and words that he couldn't quite decipher. The words had streamed soundless and silent, threading unsaid in the atmosphere, hovering slight on your quivering mouth, and his sharp, silver tongue, and though Gakuho knew that neither of you were quite ready to share the words that would bind you both to a proper relationship from this awkward, abstract situation-ship you were hopelessly tangled within, he'd mouthed the shape of a soft, intimate promise against your tender flesh as he'd kissed you in silent reverence, voice inaudible even to his own ears, more of an oath to himself than you- to never let you be hurt ever again, and he intended to fulfill it.

So yes, at specific times, your lack of observation was truly a blessing, as it had been his saving grace, for he'd nearly lost his glacial composure, Gakuho thought, and his jaw clenched at the memory of your e/c orbs glimmering with the delicate coating of tears, soaking your cheeks wet, and the whirl of insecurity and fear and despair he spied within those lustrous, glittering irises.

It had elicted a reaction unexpected from both you and himself, his mouth thinning into a wan, grim line, the sharp slope of his sharp, charming features painted cold with a stinging, forced indifference, bereft of any emotions, a slight twitch marring his furrowed brow, faux calm aura melting into something more sinister, murderous in its stiflingly dark presence even, an unpleasant sensation of scorching beginning to bubble inside his chest, hands clenching into tight fists as the sharp edges of his nails sunk into the flat of his palm, threatening to draw blood, the soft hyacinth of his eyes slowly bleeding into swirls of wrathful crimson and scarlet, spinning with the deepening shade of freshly split blood.

It had stirred an emotion within the deepest core of his very being, the incomprehensible simmer of raw anger pulsing beneath his marble, collected facade, a feeling he'd long since considered futile, the familiar but forgotten surge of molten lava coursing violently through his veins, the coil of anger twisting his guts and boiling his insides with a bloodlust he could not satiate, a roaring, aching hunger scalding his throat with the bitter, bleeding taste of unadulterated fury as it gnawed restlessly at his frayed nerves, rage, an ugly beast rearing it's head, talons digging into the shuddering arch of his spine, making his shoulders quake with barely restrained tremors, though they were from burning anger rather than the despair that reflected from your face.

But despite the abstract whirl of emotions shifting a roiling, contorting storm of twisting turmoil within him, festering restlessly like a plague, and feasting on his frayed nerves, and the bitter remembrance of once cherished memories and the absence of a precious person -{Ikeda, Ikeda, Ikeda, you were still a child, only a child, a child… so why did you do it? Why did you leave, why would you hurt me like this-?!}- the sight of your tears had brought him, and in spite of the yawning rift of anger tearing the fabric of his soul apart, Gakuho lifted the deep, glimmering wine of his gaze to meet the the sight of the yellow-tinted creature before him with a faux, deadly calm that he did not feel.

"Ah, Koro-sensei, how nice of you to finally show up."

He addressed the creature coolly, unfazed by the strong gust of wind that accompanied its sudden presence, the fierce gale rattling the bare insides of his bleak, colorlessly cordial office, as it whipped the brushes of ember-hued hair with a harsh, invisible force. The scalding rage that flooded his mind tightened its grasp upon the sight of the original perpetrator whom he'd stemmed back from all the rumors and photographs, the reason for this hopelessly tangled mess, and your precious, unwarranted tears. The unadulterated fury coiling and snaking around his ribs constricted his stuttering breath at this harsh reminder, and the wild thumping of his frantic, angry heart palpitated stubbornly underneath his ribs, cold fury simmering violently underneath the flawless marble of his flesh, as he felt his boiling wrath pulsing like the undiluted, steady flow of poisonous power through his veins, itching and crawling like the scuttle of insects beneath his skin, a power begging to be released and wrought for ruination and destruction.

Once he'd realized that he'd allowed a trickle of stiflingly dark hostility to stream through the false, composed aura surrounding him, Gakuho hastened to guard his reaction, quickly smoothing out the scathing expression to a blank mask, regaining his bearings. It wouldn't do him well to lose his cool so early on.

However, it didn't mean that he couldn't control it, sharpen and harness it, aim to kill, and the odd, almost feral glint that this sudden dark thought elicited from him glittering uncloaked, and molten garnet in his eyes did not go unnoticed by his rival.

It was with this intention that he spoke, voice as smooth and deceptively unperturbed as always, a honeyed, sultry caress of dark velvet tumbling off of soft lips, sunny tones sounding warm and perhaps even touched by a tinge of invitation, but it was only a well-constructed, honey-coated lie spilling forth from his mouth like the richest of wines, a sickly sweet venom laced with stinging mockery dripping from cold, twisted lips. And though his voice gave nothing away, there was a certain frigidness to his eyes that did not meet his false smile and cheerful tones. Gakuho knew that the creature had detected the sharp, cold accusing undertone coloring his faux cheery voice, poised taut and more than ready to stab and poison, but as polite as always, it didn't let it show, the usually stupid, wide smile stretching from its yellow, bulbous head, showing the rows of pearly white teeth, a thoughtless grin smearing and stretching the yellow flesh taut, as though its head was full of candy and rainbows, utterly remorseless and shamelessly so.

{As though it held no inkling whatsoever to the hurt it caused you, the pain and the chaos it inflicted and injected within your innocent mind, the ache and the world-weariness that clung onto your withering bones, the ghost of the tears that'd pooled in your eyes, the anxiety and the pain and the despair, as though your feelings hadn't mattered at all-!}

It irked him beyond reason, and Gakuho couldn't quite snuff the annoyed twitch marring his brow despite the sickeningly sweet saccharine of the unwavering, false smile twisting his lips.

"My sincerest of apologies, Chairman. I was caught up in a new assassina - " It began with the stirrings of a new excuse, but he interjected calmly, amethyst hues bleeding with the dusty brilliance of the shifting cosmos, painfully sharp and glinting calculatively in the light of the weeping dusk, tone colored with a dark, cold undertone, as he coated the sentence in a carefully constructed rich, baritone timbre, a deliberate bitterness souring each and every word that fell effortlessly from cold, curved lips, dripping acid enough to melt and sear and burn.

"As much as I would love to hear about Class E's most recent efforts on your assassination, I'm afraid I have summoned you here for another reason entirely, Koro-sensei."

Lifting the photograph he'd been absentmindedly flicking earlier between the gaps of his fingers, Gakuho leveled the creature with a blank, scorching stare that would make hell freeze over, with a smile so sickly sweet that it felt bitter plastered on his curled mouth, unadulterated poison gleaming sharp in his piercing gaze as he looked expectantly at the creature, the violet glare of his cosmic-tinted irises glittering molten carmine with the cold, murderous glow of the plaguing rage festering deep within him, and with his head tilted precariously, allowing the light of the dying sun to illuminate one side of his sloped face, drenching the other with a velvety darkness, Gakuho knew he must've looked unhinged, because he saw it recoil a bit, flinching, embarrassment staining a rosy pink to the yellow of its flesh.

"It has come to my attention that a certain person has been spreading rumors about myself and a student, going so far as leaking false photographs… You wouldn't happen to know anyone who is the original perpetrator, yes?" He inquired quietly, voice deceptively calm and soft, but there was a certain frosty chill to his tone that rippled with a silent, compelling authority, as he pinned the creature in place with a frigid, scalding stare that was not quite hostile- not yet anyway, but neither was it very calm. In a way, Gakuho mused, he held a vague semblance dimly reminiscent to glass, because there was a certain layer of fragility to his patience, and it could could break at any given moment.

{But that's the thing with glass. You break it, and you're the one that's bleeding.}

Gakuho assessed the creature with a sharp, almost feral glint burning in the darkening muave of his blood-drenched, moon-kissed eyes, the column of his spine arched rigid, and the sturdy, broad planes of his shoulders hunched taut and tense, posture poised with a deadly elegance, as though he were a predator ready to strike at any given moment, as the yellow-skinned creature recoiled a step back, wincing as his twisted barb hit the nail on the head, and rubbing two of its tentacles together in a sheepish manner as a slight coating of delicate primrose dusted the sunny tone of its skin.

His smile sharpened and tugged taut at his mouth and clenched jaw.

"N-no! Why would you think that?! It's not like I spied on you two on that romantically forbidden evening and took photos and spread them all around the school, and saved extra copies just in case and gossiped with other students while in disguise-...!" It rambled on senselessly, stuttering and stumbling over words, so painfully obvious, apparently paired with the inability to lie, and had Gakuho been another insignificant person in another circumstance, he would've burst out laughing, except he wasn't and knew better, for he didn't find your current predicament a laughing matter, or one to be amusement inducing.

Instead, there was a barely veiled glance of skepticism, and the surge of incredulity, before the familiar upsurge of thinly jaded anger invading through his senses.

The hot simmer of pulsing rage quickened beneath his glacial facade, and Gakuho felt the hairline cracks spidering the surface of his marble mask beginning to deepen, a twisted sensation of murderous wrath worming in through the dark crevices, poisoning his senses and clouding his vision an angry red. The tendrils of poisonous, cold fury creeping through his veins stifled his senses with the sheer intensity of its fierce, white-hot power, twisting and scraping his insides like a red-hot rod, wrenching and churning his gut, squeezing his racing heart with the sharp bite of its clawed talons, each gaunt digit of explosive fury digging deeper into the wild, pounding organ, threatening to make it burst from his contricted chest.

Instead of displaying this surprising myriad of emotions, however, Gakuho simply hummed a noncommittal sound, curling his nimble digits around the photograph, studying the scene playing within it (his lips pressed against yours, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer, and your eyes, shining bright with the kaleidoscopic glitter of surprise) disinteredly before crumpling it into a ball.

"Is that so?" Gakuho crooned softly, sarcasm lacing every rich, ambrosia dipped word as they rolled off of his sharp tongue, venomous and ready to stab and twist the bleeding wound for good measure, sugar-coated lies spilling easily from honeyed lips, though they were strangely hollow, and flat. The thread, the delicate gossamer string quilting his fraying patience together, was beginning to waver and threatening to snap, and he turned cold. And as Gakuho raised the frigid, uncaring carmine of his gaze to meet the creature's, cosmic-lidded hues exotic and cold in their magnificent, violet glory, their gazes clashed and collided with enough intensity to produce sparks.

Steepling and threading his fingers together in a calculative gesture, he casually leaned back into the lavish fabric of the chair, though his muscles stretched taut upon his wary bones, refusing to relax in the presence of a being that he knew was intelligent (just stubborn and perhaps even smart enough not to show its sharp intellect), marble mask guarded and unrelenting, as though he were a serpent, coiled and fast and cunning, ready to spring and strike at any given moment, fangs dripping with venom.

Gakuho stared at the creature with a purely predatorial knife edge to his vermilion gaze, honed sharp by the ripple of thick tension charging the air with the violent presence of electricity, his eyes blood-drenched rubies dripping with rich, liquid sangria, as he clashed gazes with the yellow menace, whirling with lost swirls of buried, gentle hyacinth, and the faint glitter of stardust as something dark, and terribly dangerous flickered behind the frame of his lashes.

He stared vehemently, gaze blade-edged and challenging, and this time, the mellow-skinned creature stared back, perhaps even a tad defiantly as it met his gaze head on, no longer drooping and shriveling underneath the chilly frost of his blank stare like a wilting flower, and he absently noted that the pink hue of embarrassment had receded its sunny skin.

No words were exchanged in the heavy, deafening silence that ensued, and both parties refused to acknowledge the killing intent rolling off of him in crushing, nauseating waves of pure, unfiltered darkness, crackling the atmosphere frigid and stifling it with the strong command of darkness that followed him in its wakr. The clear, heavy threat of impending doom descended on the pregnant silence like a vulture to carcass, indescribably hungry and intent upon feasting.

A battle without words, though just as fierce, between two formidable rivals.

There was a heavy, stifling silence that would've knocked the breath out of a lesser mortal's lungs, laced with the poisonous, violent presence of killing intent rolling through the thickening tension, and then, a gentle knife buttering through, persuasive but bracing, - "I can't say I can tell you who is responsible for Y/N's plight, " The creature began carefully, thoughtfully, even, "but I do have a question, regarding the… rumors, if you will. "

"Oh? Do elaborate." Gakuho curtly prompted it to continue, arching a sleek, perfectly manicured brow in question, slowly urging the roiling, sifting mass of darkness to thin, a certain layer of velvet interest veiling his tone, and this time, it was genuine.

"I do not mean to imply anything of the sort, but, do you by any chance," It tilted its bulbous head curiously, and for all the chaos and hell it thought would follow next, its voice was gentle, and soft as it spoke. "Care for Y/N?"

This time, Gakuho truly couldn't mask the ripple of shock crossing his aristocratic, sharp features and widening his plum hues with a distinct surprise at the unexpectance of its genuine question, unconsciously allowing a plethora of emotions to paint the empty canvas of his marble mask, before forcefully schooling his expression into that same emotionless, blank state once more. Ignoring the turmoil wreaking havoc within his mindscape, he weighed the importance of the sudden question imposed on him, guarding and planning his next action carefully.

But despite his rigid frame, the hunched shoulders and the frown dipping the corners of his lips, he knew he hadn't mistaken the sincerity of this genuine, curious inquiry, and he wondered whether or not to answer truthfully, to forgo the anger and the pent-up frustration, to face the creature with the sting of honesty.

And then, the image of your bright smile flickered into existence within his mindscape, the relieving freshness of your bubbly, meek personality, and the simple beauty of your somehow carefree yet timid, shy smile quirking the corners of your plump lips, the chime of melodious bells that accompanied your laughter, the h/c tufts of your rich hair dancing with the cool breeze, the fragments of your innocence, untainted and tempting, and the shimmer of that incomprehensible, tender emotion that flitted in your rich pools of e/c, and the soft, gentle gaze you blessed him with… and then the memory intertwined fingers, whispered promises, a mingled heartbeat beating as one - love, and Gakuho suddenly came to a grinding halt, an unsure decision somehow firm in its sincere honesty.

The words he'd not yet said to you, always hovering on the tip of the tongue, the shape of the intimate promise he'd whispered against your flesh, the tender press of his mouth against yours, the salt of your tears somehow sweet on his lips…

The solemn, magenta gleam of his eyes softened to a warm shimmer in a raw finality, as he raised his head to meet the creature's gaze, the harsh and hollow expression he wore fading into a soft, unconsciously gentle smile tilting his lips as Gakuho finally admitted, as he said in soft, reverent utterance, "I do."

And somehow, Gakuho felt as though such simple, yet meaningful words had made all the difference, and the victory marring the mellow-skinned creature and stretching its mouth into a satisfied grin was unmistakable.

He had planned this, Gakuho's mind echoed with a dawning realization, and before he could say anything else, Koro-sensei spoke first, interjecting. "I see. If it alleviates your worries, Chairman, I shall take care to erase the photographs and such," He turned his head back to face Gakuho's bewildered, questioning gaze, before finishing his sentence with a broad smile, flashing the rows of milky white teeth. "After all, it seems we both care deeply about our students. You more than me, it seems." He added cheekily before disappearing in another strong gust of wind, once again rattling the bare insides of his domain.

He heaved an incredulous sigh, before leaning back in the chair, but despite everything, he couldn't help the small, content smile tugging persistently the corners of his mouth.

"Forbidden fruit perhaps does taste the best, after all."

[writermask-0807]

Forbidden Fruit - Teacher Gakuho Asano x Student Reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, right. I'm here for something.

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

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

"Come in." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes?" 

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

You faltered.

{You always did.}

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

" Oh, and Y/N?" 

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

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

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

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

{BONUS}

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