"This is abominable. Disgusting. Unacceptable!"

A sigh of exasperation accompanied the loud thud of a stack of papers hitting the surface of Mao's desk. Raspberyl swung her tail impatiently—Right, the same old discussion that never got them out of their status quo, was it? It was earlier than usual for the complaints to arrive, too, but it wasn't like she didn't know it would happen again sooner or later, so instead of intimidating her or at least prompting a curious response with the big scene he made out of it, all he got from her was a bored glare.

"What, Mao? This again?"

"'This again'." He repeated, mockingly raising the pitch of his voice to match hers. "You know how many complaints we've received because of you this month!?"

"I don't know, dean; it's your responsibility to count them. So do you know how many have we received?"

"I… I don't b-but it's far more than I care to deal with!" He dismissed the subject with a gesture of his hand and Beryl rolled her eyes. Of course. Lazy bum. "Look, all I get is whining from the students and I can't blame them, either! What the hell is this!? 'Helping the elderly'!? 'Recycling'!? 'Manners'!?"

"Mao, I have been teaching those subjects ever since you hired me, and you had nothing to say about it back then. Besides, I usually don't get more than two or three students in those classes, and they're usually just the Hero, the Princess, and Rutile, so who the hell is complaining?"

"Beats me! All I know is that thanks to you a good portion of the student body is pissed and because of that I have to deal with these forms occupying precious space in my room that I could be using to store my research material instead! Like I said, unacceptable!"

"… So you're just mad that I'm making you work."

"Exactly, glad you caught on so fast." Satisfied that the discussion seemed to be going in the right direction (for him, at least,) Mao walked around his desk and forced Raspberyl to take a few steps back. "I've summoned you here because we're going to change your classes and teaching methods to match the academy's standards..."

"M-My teaching methods? What's wrong with them? I treat my students with respect; if they don't understand something I explain it to them slowly and patiently…!"

"That's exactly the problem, stupid! A teacher is supposed to beat knowledge into their students' heads, not gently ease it in! That's the demon way!" The dim light of the room obscured his glasses and a wide grin contorted his features. "Punish them if they don't understand… Pull their tails, beat them up—nothing cements knowledge better than pain! I've been to some of your classes, Beryl…"

"I know. We all knew for that matter, you stalker."

"… You're far too gentle!" He continued, ignoring her scornful remark and taking a mental note to improve his peeping techniques later. "How many times has that damn ex-fake hero dozed off in the middle of class? And all you do is scold him—You gotta discipline him or else that fool will never learn!"

"Are you sure you don't just want me to hit him in your place? And anyway, is that the kind of treatment you would like to receive as a student, Mao? I knew you were a pervert but I didn't know you were into that kind of—"

"I-Idiot. I don't go to class exactly for that reason." Smug grin in place, he adjusted the collar of his jacket. "I am an honor student, after all. Now, about your classes…" He walked back behind his desk, leaving Beryl with more than one objection on the tip of her tongue. "… We're changing 'Helping the Elderly' to 'Disrespecting the Elderly', 'Recycling' to 'Polluting and Wasting Resources' and 'Manners' to 'The Arts of Discourtesy'." Mao lifted his gaze from the paper he was reading. "How's that, Beryl? Brilliant, if I dare say so myself; to the point, yet boring-sounding enough that no student will want to set foot in your classroom ever again—"

"No way!" With her plump tail standing upright in all its angry glory, she walked towards the desk like a very small, very pink war tank, crushing whatever unfortunate comic book or gaming console happened to lie in her way. "My lectures are the only ones dedicated to the few delinquents in this academy who wish to follow the path of badassery! I won't let you change them!"

"Well that's too bad—as the dean of this academy, it is my duty to get rid of those kinds of students exactly!"

"Why!? Students like Rutile pay their tuition fees on time, don't they!? Isn't winning money your number one goal!?"

"Y-You damn stubborn delinquent!"Raspberyl raised her chin and smiled triumphantly. When Mao resorted to insults, it was because he couldn't find a way to counter her arguments. "I can't believe I'm wasting precious research time on this…"

"You just don't want to work so you can laze around and play video games all day."

"Of course! I'm a demon! You and your cronies are the only weirdoes in this academy who don't want to do exactly that!" Beryl stomped her left foot on the floor and pointed one menacing finger at her rival.

"Don't talk about Asuka and Kyoko like that. Insult me all you want, but leave my friends out of this."

"Feh." Mao slapped her hand away. "Delinquents like you and your friends…" He made a face. "… Deserve no respect from me. Zero, zilch, nothing."

"Really? The residents in your heart don't seem to think so."

"Tch, you…!" Raspberyl knew it was a cheap shot, but her patience was running low and she had better things to do than hearing his lies. "I oughta fire you for invasion of privacy!"

"Oh, keep your empty threats to yourself, Mao. We both know you won't do that."

"Hah, yeah, and if I did you'd only force your registration back like when you attacked the PTA, right?"

"Mao, you're such a…!" Now he was going for low blows too, smiling in satisfaction when he got the reaction he had been aiming for.

"Ooh, did I touch a nerve? It's true though!" Her rival sneered. "We were all there, so do yourself a favor and stop trying to fool everyone, you lousy, half-assed excuse for a delinquent!"

"Shut up!"

"…!"

It took Beryl a moment to even realize she had slapped his face hard enough to whip his head sideways. She bit her lower lip, guilt pooling in her stomach almost immediately—Damn, damn, he had gotten the best of her again—No, she had let him get the best of her…!

"Eek!?"

She couldn't even begin to think about apologizing when Mao, looking just as dumbfounded as she did, returned the slap without a second thought.

"O-Ow!"

"… Ah."

"What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

Mao blinked twice and then he looked at his hand—It seemed he had replied entirely out of reflex. Knowing that didn't exactly make her cheek less numb, though, so Beryl pushed her need to apologize to a place deep in her mind, instead following a primitive desire to be compensated for her rapidly-swelling face.

"Wait, no, w-why are you even asking—!? You're the one who slapped me first!"

"Well, you're the one saying things that will get you slapped!"

"I was just telling it how it happened you lousy delin—Ow! Quit slapping me!" He hit her arm with his fist.

"Ow!"

"Gah—! You…!"

"S-Stop it, ow, ow!"

Oh, screw apologizing.

She was half his size and certainly better at casting spells than she was at fighting with her bare hands, but she still threw herself at him. Caught off guard, Mao lost his balance and fell on his desk, the back of his head landing with a loud wham. He didn't even have time to complain or even feel the pain when his face got slapped yet again by hands that hurt way too much for something so tiny, and eventually, a loud snarl announced the beginning of an all out war—Hair-pulling, scratching and biting were all allowed, and soon Beryl's squeaks joined the noisy ripping and crumpling of papers, comic books and complaint forms around them.

"Mild-mannered delinquent, my ass! You're as much of an honor student as me, you…!" He was cut short by a fist to the nose and Beryl pulled on his collar.

"Shut up! You drive me up the wall! It's your fault I keep misbehaving like this!"

"Good! You're just denying your true nature, after all! This pain will remind you that you never will be real delinquent, but just another honor student playing pretend!"

Mao smirked, paying no mind to the nasal blood dripping down to his mouth, and grabbed a fistful of her hair, forcing her head backwards, his other hand sneaking to her throat and robbing her of air. She thrashed wildly, clawing at his arms and kicking his stomach, but it only resulted on making him bury his nails into the tender skin of her neck until they drew blood.

"See, Beryl? Take notes, and maybe someday you'll get to be the dean of this academy!"

He pulled her hair loose and regretted it less than a second later when she swiftly slammed his forehead with her own. Mao fell back on the desk unceremoniously, arching his back and gritting his teeth, freeing Raspberyl to cover his forehead with both of his hands. She was dizzy herself from both the headbutt and the lack of oxygen, so there was a spontaneous, yet tense ceasefire; fists and claws were replaced by murderous glares. The first to bounce back would have the upper hand for the second round, so they searched for any sign of early recovery: a sharp look, a tensing muscle…

"Kuh…!"

Mao swung a right hook so fast that Beryl had no choice but to let it hit her face, glasses flying to a dark corner of the room. His triumphant laugh turned into a scream when she slapped his fist away and a sudden fire enveloped his hand, pulling his wrist back onto the desk's surface.

"Y-You…!"

His free arm aimed for her gut, but she was ready this time; her hand, burning with the same fire as his, caught his wrist and pushed it to the side of his head. The flames extinguished then, his skin remaining intact despite the pain making his nerves stand on edge.

"Magic! You cheater!" He tried to stand up, but even though the fire was gone, the force trapping his arms wasn't. "Legendary Delinquent!? Hah! Don't make me laugh! "

"Shut up!"

She slapped him again, droplets of blood splattering on the desk underneath them. Mao coughed, a painful grimace contorting his features until he managed to force a grin back onto his lips again.

"You… You're the saddest excuse for a delinquent there is, you know that? Do your cronies also smile and wag their tails in public, but become the filthiest demons as soon as there's no one watching?"

"Shut up, Mao! Shut up!"

"Gh…!" She managed to make him growl in pain, but he still refused to obey and she cursed his stubbornness under her breath. "You're an embarrassment… you all make me sick! The only thing that's legendary about you is your hypocrisy!"

"Shut! Up!" She marked each word with a blow to his face, stomach churning with a mix of guilt and anguish. "I told you to keep my friends out of this! They have worked hard, and they don't deserve to be talked about so dirtily because of my foul deeds. I won't let you! So take it back!"

He let out his trademark evil laugh—or tried to, since his sore throat only allowed a sound barely resembling a bark.

"Take it back?" He held back a blood-filled cough and tilted his head. "You'll have to kill me."

"Damn hard-headed…!"

Rationality long discarded, she let anger, pride and shame take charge. She was a demon, after all, so stampeding forward to get what she wanted whether any parties involved wished to comply or not was an instinct that could not be erased with all the volunteer work in the world. With force she didn't know she had, Beryl pulled his collar up with one hand until his nose was only a few centimeters away from hers, and her rival held his breath in anticipation.

"Mao! A little while ago, you said you wanted me to change my teaching methods, right?"

Confusion took away what little of his smug grin remained, and he exhaled. What was she…?

Ah.

A frightful grin crept on her face when she saw panic flashing in his eyes.

"That's right; I'll do exactly that, just for you! Class starts now!"

Even she felt the vibrations of the wood when she slammed Mao's head backwards again, earning a blood-curling scream. The pain was infernal, and he swore his head had been split open, shutting his eyes closed to avoid seeing the blood that would surely be dripping down his nose soon.

"No sleeping in the classroom; we have so much to learn, after all!" Beryl forced him to open his eyes, red and aghast. "I'll teach you manners! I'll teach you respect! And, I'll teach you a thing or two about not being an absolute and complete jerk!"

Each sentence was accompanied by a blow to his face, and each blow was followed by an agonizing bellow. Beryl gave him time to recover, watching him breathe heavily and barely control his body's protests at the pain it was being subjected to—fingers curling and uncurling, back arching slightly, legs kicking the air in useless rebellion.

"So?" She asked when he finally managed to keep his muscles from twitching. "Are you sorry?"

"S… sorry…?" Even grinning was excruciating, but that only made him want to feint invulnerability even more. "Like hell…"

"Wrong answer!"

A nasty mix of spit and blood dirtied his clothes when she buried her knee in his stomach and forced him into a coughing fit. She let the pain sink in before speaking again.

"Are you sorry for talking bad about my friends and me? For calling us fakes? Give me the right answer and maybe I won't ask you to stay after class."

"Demons… Are never sorry…"

"Wrong again, bad boy!"

She aimed for his jaw and he barely managed to clench his teeth to prevent them from getting knocked loose by the violence of the strike. Hands growing numb, she took a hold of his hair instead, pulling his head back up, forcing him to look at her right in the eye. It proved difficult, though, since his breath, unusually hot, kept fogging up his glasses.

"Let's give this another try. You just have to say 'I'm sorry for everything, Miss Raspberyl.' Easy, right? Even a knucklehead like you can do it."

"B-Bite me—Ngh!" She pulled his hair again. "Gh… Pl…Pleas…!"

"Huh? What was that?" His plea caught her off guard, but he stubbornly shook his head from side to side a second later, regretting that moment of weakness.

"B… Burn in hell! You no good… Gah!"

"Take it back, Mao!"

"Why… would I…?" His cheeks were flushing up and thick beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, yet he still jeered. "Don't you s… see? You're a natural! Haah…"

"S-Shut up!"

Another dry fit of laughter proved that pain simply wasn't enough anymore. Mao, she had learned after 1500 years of knowing him, would rather bleed out than admit defeat after all, especially when his pride as an honor student was on the line. Beryl scanned her surroundings for ideas, looking for anything that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but nothing really came to mind.

"W-W-What are you doing?"

She hadn't moved yet, but as if he had read her mind, Mao's expression suddenly changed to one of worry.

"F- Fufu, you know exactly what I'm doing, don't you? You shouldn't underestimate me, Mao—I… I know every single one of your weaknesses, after all."

It was a bluff, a bad one at that, but it still somehow worked and made her rival panic when she rose to her knees.

"Wait!" His voice broke and trembled nervously. "Wait, Beryl, don't move!"

"Heh, that you're protecting that thing so desperately only means it'll make you submit to me faster. I'll look in this room till I find—"

"Wait, idiot, it's not that! I-I'm saying wait, d-don't move! Just don't move! S… stay here."

Whatever he was hiding must've been a much cherished treasure to have him so bent out of shape—unfortunately for him, that also made his rival more curious. When she tried to stand up again he arched his back, begging her to sit on his stomach again, his face reddening even more when she resisted.

"I said stay! I-I'll do anything…!"

"You'll take everything you said back and apologize?"

"… Except that…"

"Too bad."

She paid no attention to his protests and rose to her knees, just to get pushed forward by his legs a second later. Beryl fell face-first on his chest with an undignified yelp and for a moment he laughed victoriously, until she tried to get up again and pressed her body against his.

"Uh!"

Oh.

Oh.

He blushed three shades darker when she raised her head and looked like she had struck a gold mine.

"Oh. I… I see…"

Beryl had to fight back a naughty grin just to keep Mao from completely explodingwith embarrassed anger.

"No you don't! No you don't! Just—L… Let me go! Stop looking at me like that—"

"Mao… This is actually turning you on?"

He let out a menacing growl, refusing to meet eyes with her, instead uselessly fighting against the magical force trapping his wrists. He was squirming underneath her like a wild, defenseless little animal and she would've believed he hated it all if it weren't for the hard bulge her belly was resting on.

"So it was true that you actually like getting, um, disciplined."

One finger gingerly ran down the fabric of his pants—It was up alright, and the more she examined, the more Mao just wanted to hide in a hole for a good 1000 years.

"L-Like hell! It's not that, it's just…! I'm a growing demon boy and…!"

"Well, it makes sense that as someone who always gets what he wants, you'd wanna get punished every once in a while."

"W-What the hell!? Tha… that's not it…!" His rival kept teasing him with her fingers and he stared at the ceiling as if he would find whatever was left of his dignity there. "T-There's gotta be… I mean…"

"It's alright Mao; I understand. I already knew you were a weird pervert anyway, so thinking about it logically, this doesn't really come as a surprise."

"Quiet! There must be s-some scientific explanation for this, I'm… suuu…reee—!?"

His voice got two octaves higher when her hand snuck into his pants. Anger momentarily forgotten, Raspberyl giggled at Mao's shy reaction to the entire situation—Sure, the conditions this time were nothing short of weird, but they had already had some encounters of this nature centuries in the past (encounters, they promised, they'd never talk about again, regardless of the rapidly shortening span between event and event as years passed). So, there really was no reason to act like a prude 15 year old nun anymore.

Oh well. It was working better than beating him up and it was twice as fun, too.

"W-W-W-W-What are you doing!? Hah…!" Her fingertips sent a sudden shock of pleasure up his body, mixing poorly with the ever-present pounding in his head and making him feel nauseated. "Y-you pervert…!"

"You're the last person I want to hear that from."

Whatever snappy response he had got lost in his throat when she slid her nails on the fabric of his black underpants. It had to be a damn joke, that his body had the nerve to demand pleasure from the one who hurt it so badly in the first place. It only got worse when she started unbuckling his belt and his hips conveniently shifted to let his pants slide smoothly down his legs to his knees. Her knowing smile made him look up to the ceiling once again, well aware that his face was beginning to match the red of his jacket.

"Well, at least your body is still as honest as ever." She sucked on the fabric of his underwear until it was damp enough to see through it, and then blew to cool it down. "If only you could be this honest about your feelings, too."

"Tch. How about you use your mouth to take care of what you started instead of making smartass comments?"

"W-what I started…!? You're the one who—Mh…!" He rose up his hips and though the heat of her mouth was barely perceptible through his underwear, it still felt good enough to make him throw his head back in bliss. The pleasure was cut short by her hands pushing his body back down a second later, nails digging into his skin to keep him in place. "Tsk, tsk! You seem to be forgetting who's in charge, Mao! Class still isn't over, after all!"

His cock twitched at the tone of her words, much to his chagrin. While he was usually very proud of how twisted his brain was, he had never expected to find the idea of getting punished by Beryl, out of all people, so damn exciting.

"S-So you haven't tortured me nearly enough already? Gh...!" Beryl dragged her nails down, drawing blood. "It… b-begs the question—who's the real pervert here?"

"You're still the most perverted, idiot. And anyway, weren't you resisting me just a minute ago? Does this thing hurt so much that it's blocking your ability to lie anymore?" A kiss on his crotch made his hips jump back up again, only to have nails bite deeper into his flesh in retaliation for his short-lived rebellion. "Heh. Maybe we oughta do this more often; you'll learn to be honest for a change."

"Haah…" He grinned in spite of the pain, head lolling to the side. "I won't stop you if you wanna give me head more often if that's your offer, Ms. Beryl."

"Tch, s-see!? You're the most perverted!" She replied, barely keeping her tone condescending enough to hide a sudden fit of embarrassment. Somehow he always managed to surpass her when it came to shamelessness—Expected from an honor student, but not less off-putting.

"That also means that you're still a pervert yourself, though."

"I like to call it curiosity. And you should be glad, otherwise I wouldn't be doing things like this."

She lowered her face to his midriff and pulled up his shirt, butterfly kisses making stomach muscles jump and tighten and then relax, his fingers twitching as he fantasized about tangling them in her hair and pulling it to stop her god-forsaken teasing. And soon enough, as if reading his mind, Beryl yanked down his underwear with one hand, the other one still keeping him under control with a painful grip. Due to either excitement or impatience the first attempt to swallow him ended in an inelegant coughing fit, her mouth far too small to take it all in. The strength of her grip dwindled as she shook and Mao eagerly thrust up into her mouth again, paying no mind to the sharp grace of her teeth in his desperation or her growls of protest.

Men are animals, she thought and then corrected herself immediately—Mao was an animal. An inconsiderate, selfish, disgusting-

"Mmh…! … ryl…!"

… Somewhat cute animal.

She replied with a muffled moan that vibrated on the oversensitive skin of his cock and earned in turn a gratifying groan, the pulse inside her mouth quickening. He was close to finishing faster than she had expected and definitely faster than he would've wanted, yet he didn't try to hold back—A demon always got what he wanted, and so denying his body that was against his nature, or at least that's what he wanted to believe.

Mao was harshly brought back to reality, though, when she pulled away as his body started tensing up in anticipation to a climax that did not arrive. The numbing euphoria vanished and once again the throbbing of his wounds overtook his senses. Confused and feeling somewhat betrayed, all his aching muscles allowed him to do was raise his head high enough to catch a glimpse of Beryl's mischievous smile and the tip of her tongue sneaking between her swollen lips.

"Wh… why—What…?"

"Now, now, Mao. You didn't really think I'd let you get away with this so easily, did you?"

"What…!?"

Beryl rose to her knees and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, purposefully ignoring his erection as she crawled up his body to sit on his stomach once again.

"You want to finish?"

She rose her chin.

"You apologize and take it all back."

"YOU!" His voice cracked and he thrashed underneath her, teeth gritted so hard he thought they would crack. "You—You monster! You bastard… you… you… You honor student!"

"You do know you're just adding stuff to the apology pile, don't you?"

"SHUT UP! What's with that!? You're twisted, wicked, cruel!"

"Geez, is all this so important to you? These reactions are kind of unfitting for an overlord, you know!"

"Yeah, how about I tie you up and tease you for an hour!? Then we'll see how you feel." He spat, throat sore. "I swear, when you let me go I'll make you go through torture twice as horrible—I'll brainwash you and turn you into my slave!"

"Uh huh. One weird fetish at a time, please." She said in a sing-song voice, unimpressed by his threats. "And I told you, all you have to do is apologize and this is all over."

"I… I can't do that! Demons…!"

"Then you can't come either."

Mao groaned and finally let his head fall back on the desk in temporary defeat. It was a pitiable sight, but she knew her rival too well to fully believe it; because when she leaned down to kiss him he didn't try to hurt her nor did he fight back when she pulled his jacket over his head. To some level Mao was enjoying her so-called torture and unconsciously, he was simply playing his designated role.

"You're a lot more twisted than you seem." He finally said after a long pause. "Yet somehow I'm not surprised. I wonder if that's why we were destined rivals—It'd make sense that only someone as evil as me would get to fill that role." Beryl cleaned his fogged up glasses with the sleeve of his jacket before folding it carefully and leaving it on a chair nearby.

"'Evil'? You talk too much."

"Hmph. I can't help that my scientist blood prompts me to be curious about these things—Mnh…"

He got distracted by her tongue lapping a thick line of drool falling from the corner of his mouth to his ear, swirling inside and producing sensations, Mao decided, he did not hate. It returned to his cheeks soon after, blood, sweat and tears cleaned by tender, open-mouthed kisses until nothing remained but the slowly darkening bruises on his skin as proof of their previous fisticuffs.

"… Haah… So, what now?" His heavy breathing would've made anyone who didn't know him think he was breaking into a fever. The thought made her snicker as she lifted his black shirt to reveal his chest and stomach—If only he were so normal. "Since doing me favors clearly didn't work for you, are we going back to pain? Will you break my arms and legs and refuse to heal me till I apologize? Fufu, the possibilities are endless…"

"Are those more of your fantasies? Sorry, but they sound like a waste of effort. I'm not planning to hurt you more than necessary, Mao, as disappointing as that may be for you."

"It is." He offered a crooked grin. "You're too soft, Beryl."

"I'm just not a weirdo like you."

Raspberyl finished unbuttoning her cuffs and placed them neatly on top of his jacket, then moved her hands to her skull zipper just to find herself doubting.

"…"

"What?"

"… C-Could you not look?"

"… What." He repeated, tone flat. "What are you getting all fidgety for? It's nothing I haven't seen before, and I bet you're still as flat as a surfboard after all this time, too."

"S-Shut up! They've grown a little… I think…"

She puffed her cheeks and pulled her zipper down, freeing her little wings with a practiced maneuver and letting the pink shirt slide down her shoulders. Dammit—Dammit, his brain had to be starving for the blood lost during their fight because there was simply no way her childish figure and ridiculously colorful underwear could make his dick throb so painfully in normal circumstances. Ignoring the heat returning to his cheeks, he took advantage of the pause she made to fold her clothes to recover his edge.

"A-A training bra?" He jeered, although his voice wavered slightly. "You've got to be joking. Aren't girls your age already wearing normal bras?"

"I-I'm a late bloomer, alright!?" Beryl pouted cutely then mumbled: "I always have to shop at the kid's section because everything is too big…"

"Hah! That's just pitiful—Hrgh!"

"T-T-That's enough from you!" Beryl picked up the mini-skirt she had thrown on his face and folded it as well along with her pantyhose. "I guess you need me to remind you who's in charge again."

"Whatever you say, Miss ducky panties—"

That earned him a painful squeeze of his cock and he yelped, bucking up his hips automatically. The defiant look in his eyes vanished once she started pumping, delighting in the power she had over him. It seemed Ms. Machiko was right all along: men really were the most vulnerable creatures once you sneaked a hand into their trousers.

"Nuh-uh." She chimed and stopped her ministrations when he got too close to orgasm again.

"Y-Y… You… bitch…!"

"Language, Mao!"

"Gh…! Fuck you—" Her grip around his shaft tightened and he inhaled sharply, coughing as he choked on his own saliva.

"I oughta wash your dirty mouth with soap, you know." At the lack of a snappy response she smiled and gave him a minute to calm down before speaking again. "Now. I'm going to have fun with you." His eyes lazily followed her hands as they danced on the elastic hem of her panties before taking them off. "… And you can't come until you apologize."

He gulped, but made no comment as Beryl unhooked her bra and leaned down to reclaim his lips, offering a generous view of her cleavage—or rather, lack thereof: She really hadn't grown an inch after all. He sighed in delight when she pressed against him regardless and found it hard to hold back a grin when her tail swooshed from side to side and quivered. She had been so absorbed in keeping his body under control that she hadn't realized her own was suffering with the delay of a satisfactory release as well.

"Beryl…" He started hesitantly, feeling somewhat dazed himself. "If you let me go—"

"N… no, no, no." It was as if she was trying to convince herself rather than him, and he tsked—She always complained about him being hard-headed, but she was on an entirely different level. "Y-You can't always get everything you want, Mao."

"Oh, shut up! I'm not the only one who wants it! C'mon already!"

"No."

She rose to her knees with a resolute look in her eyes.

"You're gonna have to apologize."

Raspberyl lowered herself on his erection but didn't let it enter her—instead, it slid on the soft folds of her entrance and ended between her buttocks. On all fours, she rose her hips again and let them caress her pussy again, moist and feverish and making him buck up without a second thought.

"Uh—Mmh!"

The head of his cock rubbed her clitoris in a well-timed coincidence and she became a trembling mess, whimpering cutely when he repeated the motion. Arms giving up, she fell face first on his chest and placed open-mouthed kisses all over it.

"Shit… let me… screw you…"

"Mmh!"

She shook her hips clumsily to follow his thrusting but refused to acknowledge every urge to pursue something more—She had gotten far enough to make her idiot of a rival ask her for something instead of taking it by force, which was a big damn deal for someone as egocentric as Mao—Giving up was simply out of the question. She'd have to make do with the superficial caress of his prick; and surprisingly, it proved sufficient soon enough when a particularly strong thrust sent her over the edge unexpectedly, making her squeak his name in a wavering whimper against his chest before her legs gave up as well, entire body relaxing after an orgasm that, while not the most intense she had experienced, was good enough.

"Let me screw you."

She blushed and pressed her lips in a thin line. The selfish jerk hadn't even let her rest for a full minute—

"Beryl!"

"Geez… Can't you say 'please' for something like this at least?"

"Tch! W-What do I look like, some kind of lousy delinquent?"

"Mao!"

Much to her surprise he shut up instantly, even if a haughty pout remained on his lips. For a moment she wondered whether that bout of obedience was a product of her efforts or just a sign of how tired he was. She leaned toward the second—A single look was enough to realize he was the embodiment of exhaustion, his face an unflattering tone of red, eyes slightly humid and unfocused.

After feeling her body had recovered some of its strength, Beryl put herself on his level and slid her tongue on the corner of his lips making him take notice of another thick string of saliva rolling down the side of his jaw as well.

"… Say, do I look as awful as you do?"

He snorted, forgetting his frustration for a second.

"You look stupid. Your nose is running, your face is swelling and your hair is embarrassing to look at—Ow."

"You're the worst!"

"What, do you want me to lie now? Aren't you the one who loves honesty and all that crap?" His rival puffed her cheeks, rubbing her nose clean with the back of her hand and sniffing.

"… lying a little is fine though."

Beryl rolled to her side after her muscles refused to let her sit up, her eyes darting down to his cock. It was of a somewhat worrying shade of red, veins throbbing under her fingertips when she took it in her hands. He hissed and shut his eyes closed.

"Does it hurt?"

"What do you think!?"

She didn't answer, instead rubbing her palm on his length with intensity that was comforting but simply not enough.

"I won't let you come until you apologize." She repeated thoughtfully, more to herself than to him.

"I know already! And I told you I won't—!"

For a split second he felt as if someone had stolen control over his body—He felt it all, damn right he did, but everything else seemed to move on its own. Mao let out an embarrassing cry as he was surrounded by unbearable warmth and impossibly tight, moist walls—She was riding him, she was riding him again but this time it was the real deal, and the only thing that kept him from coming instantly was the sharp digging of her fingernails in his stomach wound.

"G-Geez…! have some self-control, will you?"

"Sh-Shut up—Haah!"

His leg kicked the air, then flexed when she rose her hips and his eyes overflowed with tears, breathing coming out in short gasps.

"Aah—! Hah! Dammit! Why…is everything…about you… so damn small!"

It was too much—she was too tight—she was barely moving but it was still too damn much.

He had to come—He had to.

"I guess I should've warned you beforehand—" Her breathing hitched when he managed to thrust upwards, but she forced his hips down again. "You… don't look like you hate it though…"

"Beryl—Beryl…" He whimpered. "I can't—I can't hold back—I'm gonna come—If you move I'm gonna lose it—I gotta—I gotta…"

She bit her lower lip.

"N… no. There's only one way that's gonna happen."

She rotated her hips gently and Mao arched his back, frantic, tears falling to the side of his head along with a new, thick line of drool. Beryl gulped and tried slowly letting him slide in and out but even that seemed too much, and he shook his head from side to side once again begging under his breath to let him go. His hips convulsed when she tightened around him once more, overpowering sensations numbing anything that wasn't pleasure, and then she moaned his name—and that was it, that was the last straw:

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Pl… ase, Beryl…!"

She froze out of sheer shock and the force restraining his arms disappeared as she lost her focus.

The next couple of seconds were nothing but a blur: He held her close to him and rolled to the side, effectively pinning her against the desk. He was heavy and it was hard to breathe and her back hurt as he pounded inside her over and over again, but she clung harder to him and whispered encouraging nothings that he answered with her name in between other intelligible groans. Mao took a better hold of her hips and buried his fingers in her flesh, leaving long scratches all over her buttocks and thighs, and she cried as well, exhilarated—Pain had never felt so good—

"I'm gonna—I'm gonna come—Beryl—I'm coming—" There was something apologetic about his tone, as if asking forgiveness for getting the wrong answer in class, and she giggled breathlessly.

"H…hurry up then, you idiot…!"

He curled up on her and let out a final, dry moan, and the warm rush inside her sent a wave of pleasure that triggered her second orgasm that evening, making up for the lack-luster one earlier and effectively taking her last bit of strength.

"Good boy, good boy."

Beryl took his face with her hands and cleaned the drool and tears with her thumbs. He bit one of them affectionately when it got near the corner of his mouth and made her giggle, cute grin blurring away when she took off his glasses. A gentle afterglow took over and swept them away, everything around them fading to black.

"G… guh…"

Mao opened his eyes to a bothersome ray of sunlight sneaking between the curtains of his window and what felt like a series of cold butterfly kisses. It took a while for him to remember that could only be healing magic—not that knowing so helped him feel less confused.

"You awake?"

"Hn."

He looked up and found Beryl's blurry figure hovering over him. He rolled his head on her legs, expecting pain taking over his senses—But all he felt was a distant ache, and he brought a hand to his face to realize there was not a single swollen bit of skin.

"You work fast."

"Well, it's not my best work to be honest—All I could do was stop your face from looking like a balloon. You still can see the bruises…"

"… Hoh, you seem troubled by that. Scared I'll use the wounds to show everyone what a good honor student you can be?"

"Geez." She puffed her cheeks. "If you have to know, I felt guilty and the least I could do was guarantee you a complete recovery from our fight!" He made a noise deep in his throat, amused by her aggravation.

"Yeah, that's the least you could do after the hell you put me through. Don't you dare do it again."

"Uh-huh. I'll be sure to do it again sometime."

"I-Idiot, I just said—"

"It's not like you were the one to get a hard-on while getting beat up or anything—."

"Y-you—! I told you I didn't—! Ugh."

"Idiot, don't try to get up. You're still tired."

He tsked and instead looked for his glasses, finding them near her thighs. Blurry shapes took form around him, including Beryl's own face—

"… Snrk."

"W-What?"

"… You look awful."

"Hmph! Well I spent all my magic healing you, so it can't be helped! Advanced delinquent technique number 40, 'being considerate'…"

"Y-You call that being considerate!?" Mao interrupted. "How about being considerate to me by not beating me up in the first place, you lousy delinquent!?"

The last couple of words made Beryl bite her lower lip, expression suddenly sullen.

"… What?"

"Heh, well, I… I was thinking..." She absentmindedly let her fingers follow the curve of her horns. "You know… what you said before…? You were right."

"Huh?"

" I… I might not deserve to be called a delinquent anymore after what I did."

"…"

"I mean… sure, I was provoked, but still…"

"Shut up. Forget about it."

"What?"

"I said forget it." He didn't look at her, instead staring at some random point in the ceiling. "You're… okay. I mean—I'll take the blame, whatever lets you sleep at night. You're a good delinquent." Beryl chuckled. "W-What!?"

"Nothing. Thank you."

She leaned down and pressed her lips against his. It made for a painful kiss due to the wounds still fresh on her skin, but Mao flinched away from a completely different reason—Even under the purple parchments, the blush spreading on his cheeks was easy to see.

"I-Idiot, what the hell do you think you're doing!? Damn low-life!"

She chuckled and let him be—He was a lost case in every possible way, and not even all the physical and sexual torture in the world was going to make him change.

"Ah well. No one can say I didn't try."

"Why are you talking to yourself all of a sudden? Did I hit you so hard you hear voices now? Want me to open you up and see what's wrong with your hea—Oomph"

Oh, raspberries.

this mess wouldnt be possible without the help of my friend wf and the lovely jesse (emperordweeb on tumblr) proof-reading this. hopefully you can review! even just a "lovely!" would be fine (constructive criticism also well-received idk man just talk to me im LONELY)

what else can i say i love mao and beryl and their relationship makes me happy nothing like two kids beating each other up to show their love