#ryuji

Ft: Kazuya, Banda, Ryuji, Nobu, Ikeno, Aguni, Arisu, Chishiya, Niragi, Tatta, Tetsu x fem!reader

Warnings: +18, smut, possessiveness, manipulation, degradation, trauma themes and guilt complex.

Note: English is not my first language so feel free to tell me if there are any mistakes.

Kazuya:

Your relationship with Kazuya is difficult to define. You are not dating, there is no place for that in Borderland, but you have something... where passion hides the deep feelings you both try to bury.

part 2

pairing : ryuji matsuyama x reader

word count : 3.3 k

warnings : angst, suggestive scenes, mentions of manipulation and obsession, toxic relationship

summary : you knew he was just as intoxicated by you as you were by him, pulled under the same dizzying, unstoppable current that neither of you wanted to escape.

a/n : he’s sooo fine, i had to write something with him. I highly recommend listening to “Wrong” by Chris Grey while reading this ! Hope you enjoy xx

—

You watched as raindrops slid down the classroom window, tracing uneven paths against the glass. The professor’s voice faded into the background, nothing more than a dull hum, as your thoughts wandered to the one person who had unexpectedly consumed your mind over the last few weeks.

It had started with curiosity. You’d always been the one to think past the surface, to dig deeper into subjects most people skimmed over. That restless need to know more was what led you to discover a paper written by Ryuji Matsuyama. The first line alone had hooked you. He had written about questions you’d wrestled with for years, ideas that felt like they had been plucked straight from the corners of your mind.

That discovery was one of the reasons you chose this university, because you’d learned he was teaching here. The very first chance you got, you approached him after class.

“I read your paper. It was fascinating.”

“You’re interested in mental illness?” he asked, hardly glancing up as he shoved his notes into his bag.

“Not exactly” you replied. “I meant the part where you wrote that stimulating a section of the temporal lobe can trigger near-death experiences.”

That made him pause. For the first time, he looked at you properly.

“You’re the only one here who’s ever brought that up.”

And just like that, you had his attention.

What began as quick conversations after class soon became a ritual. You stayed behind almost every day, tossing ideas back and forth until he finally suggested meeting in his lab from time to time. You hadn’t hesitated, only a fool would have said no.

Now, sitting in another lecture you barely heard, your mind drifted again. The thought of the lab, of the conversations waiting for you with Professor Ryuji Matsuyama, filled you with a quiet thrill.

The bell finally rang, pulling you out of your drifting thoughts like a jolt back into reality. Relief washed over you, you didn’t even bother pretending to listen to the professor anymore. You swept your notebooks into your bag with quick, practiced movements, eager to escape the monotony of the classroom.

It was already past six. Your stomach growled in protest, reminding you of the hours you had gone without eating. On your way to the lab, you decided to make a quick detour to the snack distributor near the stairwell. You hovered in front of the machine for a moment, scanning its limited choices under the harsh fluorescent light. After some indecision, you tapped in a number and watched the bag tumble down into the tray with a hollow thud. You bent slightly, fingers just brushing the wrapper, when a voice suddenly called your name.

You turned, startled, the familiar sound cutting through the quiet corridor. Standing there with a grin was Kenji.

“Hey” you greeted with a small wave, straightening as you retrieved your snack. Kenji was a classmate of yours, and more importantly, your partner for Ryuji’s final assignment. He was easy to be around, a little clumsy, but genuine in a way that made people naturally comfortable.

“Heading home already?” he asked as he approached.

You shook your head. “Not yet. I was planning on studying in the library before leaving.”

That was only half-true. Your evenings didn’t really belong to the library anymore, not when you had somewhere far more intriguing to be. While your meetings with Ryuji weren’t forbidden, not exactly, you both seemed to understand the unspoken rule of keeping them private. Whatever was growing between those quiet conversations in the lab, it was yours alone.

Kenji didn’t press. He just nodded and said “Then I’ll walk you there. I was heading that way anyway.”

The two of you fell into step, trading easy jokes and small laughter as the corridors thinned of students. By the time you reached the library, the halls were nearly empty, the quiet of early evening settling over the campus.

“This is me” you said, pausing at the library entrance.

Kenji gave a half-smile. “Don’t study too hard. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah” you nodded, returning the smile before watching him walk off down the hall.

As soon as his figure disappeared around the corner, you turned to the right. The library’s heavy wooden doors stayed behind you as your feet carried you toward the lab instead. A faint nervous excitement hummed beneath your skin, like it always did.

The lab door opened with its usual creak, spilling a sliver of light into the dim corridor. Inside, the fluorescent lamps overhead had been left off, only a desk lamp glowing faintly somewhere deeper inside the room. The shadows stretched across the tables and glass cabinets, giving the place a hushed, almost secretive atmosphere, which made you assume Ryuji hadn’t arrived yet.

You slipped further inside, the door clicking shut softly behind you. From your bag, you pulled out the white blouse you kept just for these visits, slipping it on over your clothes. A ritual by now, it felt almost symbolic, as though putting on that blouse set you apart from the rest of your student life. You reached up to tie your hair, movements casual, your mind already rehearsing what questions you might bring up tonight.

Then you flinched.

At the edge of your vision, you noticed a figure seated at one of the desks. The faint scratching sound of a pen against paper reached your ears, so subtle you hadn’t noticed it at first.

Ryuji’s eyes met yours across the dim lab, the glint of the desk lamp reflecting in his gaze.

You let out a soft chuckle, trying to ease the tension clinging faintly to the air. “You scared me.” you admitted, exhaling.

Ryuji leaned back slightly in his chair, pen still in his hand. “The lights are out” he explained simply, nodding toward the dark ceiling fixtures. “For tonight, desk lamps will have to do.”

You gave a small sigh and nodded in understanding, the pale glow of the lamp casting both of your faces in an amber haze. Pulling the rest of your hair into a quick knot, you walked toward him and slipped into the chair beside his. His notes lay scattered in neat disorder across the table, ink marks, underlined words, diagrams that looked sharp and meticulous. You leaned a little, curiosity tugging at you.

“Have you been thinking about anything new?” you asked, eyes flicking from the papers to his profile.

But his gaze didn’t land on you. Instead, his eyes moved restlessly, shifting from the microscope to the notebook, from the pages back to the lenses, only occasionally darting in your direction before sliding away again. There was something deliberate in the way he avoided meeting your stare, but you didn’t press. At least, you tried not to.

“Can I see ?” you asked after a beat, nodding toward the microscope.

He didn’t hesitate, just leaned his chair back a little, leaving room for you. You turned the eyepiece gently, lowering your face until the world narrowed into the circular field of the lens. The familiar branching lines and structures came into focus, and you recognized it almost instantly.

“Wait, this is one of the subjects for the final assignment, isn’t it?”

Ryuji’s voice came quietly, almost matter-of-fact. “It is.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and you pulled back slightly from the microscope. “Then I’d better get an A on this after everything,” you teased, trying to bring some levity into the dim-lit atmosphere.

He gave a faint breath, not quite a laugh. “If you were doing it alone, there’s no doubt you’d get an A.” He paused, eyes lingering on his notes before adding, “That’s why it’s important to choose a good partner.”

Something in his tone, too sharp, too pointed, made you still. The air between you seemed to shift. Slowly, you leaned back into your chair, turning your head to look at him properly. His gaze was finally fixed on you, steady and unflinching, almost heavy with an intensity that made your stomach dip.

For a moment, neither of you said anything.

Then, as though nothing had happened, he reached forward and replaced the plate beneath the microscope, his movements smooth, calculated. He bent slightly to peer back through the lens, leaving you to blink the weight of his stare off your skin.

“My partner’s Kenji” you said after a beat, forcing the words into the quiet. “He’s actually a really good student—”

“He failed the first test last week.” Ryuji cut in abruptly, his voice low but edged. The interruption was so quick, so decisive, it felt as though he’d been waiting to say it.

The silence that followed pressed down heavier than the shadows of the lab.

You tried to smooth the edge of his words with a light tone. “The test was really hard, though. I mean, half the class looked like they were drowning—”

Ryuji didn’t let you finish.

“You got an A” he said flatly, not even looking at you as he stacked his papers into a neat pile. “And the class average was an 80. It wasn’t hard.”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the sharpness. You pushed back gently, trying to defend Kenji.

“Okay, but a first test doesn’t mean much. It’s the beginning of the semester, people are still adjusting—”

Again, he cut you off.

“If he spent his time with you wisely instead of laughing around, he probably would’ve passed.”

The sentence landed like ice water down your spine. The tone of it, the dismissal, the cold finality in his voice, it made you freeze in your seat. His gaze flicked up at you then, just for a moment, a piercing look that felt too heavy, too sharp, before he dropped it back down to his notes.

Silence stretched out between the two of you, thick and suffocating. The soft hum of the desk lamp was the only sound that filled the lab. You opened your mouth to speak, to maybe shift the atmosphere back to something lighter, but nothing came out. The weight of his words had shut you down.

Ryuji exhaled, long and tired, as though whatever thread of patience he had left had worn thin. He began gathering his notes with precise movements, stacking and sliding pages into his bag, the click of his pen echoing too loud in the stillness.

“I have a lot to do,” he said, voice lower now, though not softer. “I need to get home early.”

You sat there, dumbfounded, watching him. His behavior was so unlike him, so distant, so curt. This wasn’t the man who stayed after class to hear your thoughts, who leaned in when you spoke like your words carried gravity. It felt like you were staring at a stranger wearing his face.

He stood, grabbing his bag, stuffing it with his notes. Something panicked sparked in you, if you let him leave like this, you weren’t sure what would happen between you after tonight.

“Wait” you blurted, your hand darting forward before you could stop yourself.

Your fingers landed on his, stilling his movements as he slid the last folder into his bag. The warmth of his skin under your palm made your pulse skip, and for a second, he froze, too, his posture rigid. The world seemed to contract around that single point of contact.

Then reality crashed over you. Heat flooded your cheeks, and you recoiled, snatching your hand back as though you’d touched a flame.

“I—sorry,” you stammered, your voice quiet, breaking the silence like brittle glass.

He didn’t say anything for a long while, and the silence pressed down on you like a weight. His hand lingered on his bag. Then finally, his voice broke through, low and measured.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

The words weren’t sharp like earlier, but they weren’t soft either. They carried something heavier, a weight that slid down your spine and made your chest tighten. You lowered your gaze instantly, the sting of embarrassment settling in. You had acted before thinking, reaching out like that, breaking a line that should’ve never been crossed.

But before the shame could sink too deep, Ryuji sighed. You heard the faint rustle of his bag as he let it fall back onto the desk, his posture shifting. When you looked up, his eyes were on you at last, steady and unwavering. He exhaled slowly, as though the words that followed had been coiled inside him for too long.

“You’re smarter than the rest of them” he said. His voice wasn’t clinical now, not the detached tone of a professor. “Braver, too. That’s why you caught my attention.”

Your lips parted, breath stalling as the weight of his admission pressed into you.

“You should stay with people who share your interests,” he went on, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place. “Otherwise you’ll waste your potential.”

Something in your chest twisted. Your whole body went still, your eyes lifting to his. A dozen questions burned in your throat, but none of them could take shape. The air between you was thick with things unspoken.

And then, quietly, you asked, “Do you mean yourself?”

The question cracked the silence like glass.

Ryuji scoffed, shaking his head, though his expression gave nothing away. “I’m your professor, not your partner.”

The dismissal stung, but before you could react, he added, almost reluctantly, “Do what you want. But I’m warning you.” His voice was low, deliberate, like a shadow curling around the edges of his words.

He reached for his bag again, shifting his weight as though ready to leave. But you moved before he could step past you.

“Wait.”

Your voice came out firmer than you expected as you pushed off the desk, stepping into his path. He stopped short, standing directly in front of you now, only inches of space separating you. His height forced you to tilt your chin up, your pulse loud in your ears.

He didn’t move, didn’t step back, just looked down at you with that same unreadable expression.

“You really don’t have to worry about Kenji” you said softly “He’s just my partner. If he struggles with the material, I'll be there to help him.”

Ryuji’s expression didn’t change at first, but you caught the flicker of something in his eyes. A shift, quick and raw, before it was shuttered again.

You went on, unaware of the storm tightening around him. “As you said, I'm smart, so a few private sessions at the library will get us an A.”

That was it, the last thread of his restraint snapped.

The bag slipped from his shoulder, hitting the floor with a dull, heavy sound that startled you into stillness. Before you could even ask what was wrong, his hand was on your jaw, the grip firm, tilting your face upward.

And then his mouth was on yours.

It wasn’t careful or measured, nothing like the precise man who lived in his notes and microscopes. It was forceful, searing, as though every unspoken thing inside him had been set on fire and you were the only way to put it out.

Your back hit the bookshelf hard, his body caging you in, his hand holding your face as though he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. His kiss was fierce, demanding, almost angry, yet underneath it all there was a raw yearning that made your knees weak.

The moment his lips touched yours, everything you had told yourself about Ryuji being untouchable, distant, impossible, everything you had forced yourself to believe, shattered.

You melted into the kiss instinctively. Your hands lifted, fingers tangling in the back of his shirt almost without thinking, drawn to the heat and intensity of him.

When you responded fully, leaning into him, letting yourself be consumed by the kiss, he moved without hesitation. One hand slid under your knees while the other gripped your back, lifting you off your feet effortlessly.

Your breath hitched in surprise, but he didn’t pause. He carried you toward the lab desk, sweeping the notes off the desk in one quick, careless motion, sending them fluttering to the floor as he lifted you onto the surface.

He hovered above you, the desk lamp casting stark shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes. His lips left yours for just a fraction of a second, enough for you to catch your breath, before pressing back with the same urgent, commanding force.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, trying to anchor yourself against the storm of feeling that had erupted between you.

As he pulled back slightly, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses along the curve of your neck, a slow, triumphant smirk spread across your lips. You had him exactly where you wanted, just as you had from the very moment you first read his paper. From that first line, you had known him, passionate, brilliant, untouchable… and perfect.

He was more than just desire ; he was restraint and discipline, a respected professor, and that made breaking him far from easy. But that's where Kenji came in handy. You had nothing against him, he was kind, funny, easy to be around, but he didn’t share the obsessions, the depth of conversation, the intensity you shared with Ryuji. With Kenji, there were limits. With Ryuji, there were no limits you weren’t willing to explore.

Your gaze drifted to the lab window now covered by curtains, hiding the food distributor across the hall from which you had seen Ryuji standing earlier before you came, watching people pass by with that quiet, calculating look.

When, at that moment, Kenji’s voice called out behind you, you’d felt a spark of wicked amusement. You’d turned, putting on your widest, most disarming smile, knowing Ryuji would see every gesture, every laugh. You’d played your part perfectly, subtle and teasing, planting a seed that would rattle him just enough.

Over the past few lab sessions, you had noticed the small, deliberate ways he had let his control slip, lingering touches that brushed against your skin, words that carried double meanings, gazes that followed you longer than propriety demanded. You had recognized the signs, calculated them, and known this would be the tipping point. Kenji had been the perfect catalyst, innocently oblivious, just enough to provoke the storm that had been building beneath Ryuji’s composed exterior.

And now here you were. His lips moved lower, tracing your neck, your shirt partially unbuttoned, exposing skin that had been shielded from the world until now. His hands were bold, daring, sliding under your skirt, tracing upward across your thighs with a possessive urgency that made your breath hitch. Every touch, every press of his lips against your skin, pulled you deeper into him, intoxicated and dizzy with desire.

You wanted him entirely, just as he wanted you entirely. The boundary between student and professor had dissolved, leaving only two people locked in the same fevered hunger, feeding off each other’s intensity. You moved instinctively, arching slightly as his hands explored, letting yourself be claimed by the man who had always fascinated you, the man who had challenged your mind and now your body.

You were one with him. Every stolen touch, every sharp gasp, every racing heartbeat drew you closer to a truth you had known all along : that this moment, this surrender, was exactly what you had been building toward since the moment you first read his paper. The rest of the world fell away. Kenji, the assignments, the lectures, they were all just background noise to the storm that existed between you and Ryuji, and nothing else mattered.

This was the culmination, the game you had been playing from the very beginning, and that you won.

The biggest happy (belated) birthday for my sunshine boy, Ryuji !! 🔆 💛