❝𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆'𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎?❞
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, your former teacher whom you kept making advances to back in high school became your bodyguard years later.
What happens when he craves...
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⎯⎯✰
Night drink with Shoko was maybe the worst idea you could've had. Talking about your father, what happened with Gojo and Shoko's own life had entertained your mind.
However, you had been standing in the freezing cold for ten minutes. Shoko had offered to drop you off at home but you refused, you didn't want to be a burden to her. Unfortunately, you were now facing the consequences of your poor decisions. Why did you have to call your maid for her to send someone?
You hated yourself as every fibers of your existence yielded to anxiety and embarrassment at the sight of your ride back. The face you perceived inside this familiar car made you want to vanish into thin air or turn into something so small that you'd not be perceived. You even wondered if you were dreaming or becoming crazy. Yes, you were drunk but not enough to get hallucinations right?
Your head felt dizzy, and you stumbled forward. The silhouette opened the car door ever so slowly to approach your vulnerable state, as if you were a prey ready to be devoured. You fought yourself internally with the ounce of awareness remaining. You were either cursed or life had decided to turn its back to you. Not that you were very lucky to begin with.
That odd devishly grin crept onto this man's face and he marched forward. Your body moved by itself and swivelled to your opposite. Running away when drunk? Lame, but that's precisely what you were going do to.
Your picked up the pace of your pitiful staggering, your teeth chattered fiercely and you even blew cold air but as you did, a strong hand grabbed your wrist halting you in the process. He swivelled you around, and you deadpanned, "Hi doll, nice to see you again."
"Is that you Mister...Fushiguro?..." was all you could mutter as dizziness due to alcohol and the cold consumed you entirely, a headache surfaced and you ended up with regret about drinking that day.
His malicious grin was the last thing you saw before collapsing into his muscular arms.
-
Years ago...
You were the pretty and sweet girl of high-school. Likeable, popular, knew by almost all the school. You never created any issues and had good grades - typical of a good student, the type that teachers loved. But everything went downfall at the start of 11th grade.
