"Pass the salt?" I asked, reaching across the dinner table while trying not to knock over Daven's stupid energy drink.
My little brother was practically vibrating in his chair, which was normal for him, but tonight he seemed extra wound up. Probably because his big sister was finally getting the hell out of the house and he'd have Mom and Dad's full attention for the first time in his life.
Lucky bastard.
"Here you go, sweetheart," Dad said, sliding the shaker across to me with that proud smile he'd been wearing all week. Kaelen Shadowmere, senior magical security technician and the best father a girl could ask for, even if he did get a little too excited about my career prospects sometimes.
"Thanks, Dad." I sprinkled some salt on my roasted vegetables and tried to ignore the way Mom was staring at my outfit. Again.
"Miyuki," she said finally, setting down her fork with that particular care that meant I was about to get a lecture. "You are planning to dress more... appropriately once you're at university, aren't you?"
Here we go.
"What's wrong with how I dress?" I gestured to my crop top and mini skirt combo. Sure, it showed off plenty of skin, but it wasn't like I was naked or anything.
"It's just..." Mom—Lyralei—pressed her lips together in that way that meant she was choosing her words carefully. "You'll be representing not just our family, but the dark elf community. First impressions matter, especially at a place like AMU."
"I'm not changing who I am because some stuck-up high elves might get their panties in a twist," I shot back, probably a little sharper than I meant to.
"Language," Mom said automatically.
"She's got a point though, Lyra," Dad interjected, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. "Miyuki earned her spot at that university fair and square. Top grades, excellent magical aptitude scores, perfect scholarship interview. If anyone has a problem with how she dresses, that's their issue."
God, I love him.
"I'm not saying she didn't earn it," Mom protested. "I just want her to succeed, and unfortunately, appearance does matter in academic settings."
"I'll succeed because I'm good at what I do," I said firmly. "Fire magic specialization, magical security track, just like Dad. I know what I'm working toward."
Dad's grin got even wider. "That's my girl. You're going to kick ass in the security program. Maybe even surpass your old man someday."
"Definitely surpass you," I said with a smirk. "I'm planning to work my way up to corporate defense contracting. Make the real money."
"Modest as always," Daven piped up from across the table, finally contributing something other than caffeinated fidgeting to the conversation. "What happens when you meet someone at college who's actually better than you at magic?"
"Won't happen," I said without hesitation.
"You're so full of yourself," he laughed, but I could tell he was proud too. Little brothers were weird like that.
"I prefer 'confident,'" I corrected. "There's a difference."
And there better be plenty of confident guys at AMU who can keep up with me.
The thought sent a little thrill through me that had nothing to do with academics and everything to do with the fact that I'd be living away from home for the first time in my life. No parents checking up on me, no curfews, no one to judge who I brought back to my room or how loud I got.
Finally.
"Well, I think you're going to do wonderfully," Dad said, raising his glass of wine. "To Miyuki—the first Shadowmere to attend university, and definitely not the last to make us proud."
We all clinked glasses—even Daven with his energy drink—and I felt that familiar warm glow that came from Dad's approval. He believed in me completely, never doubted for a second that I belonged at AMU or in the magical security field.
I just hope I don't fuck it up.
Two hours later, I was staring at my open suitcase like it might spontaneously combust if I looked at it wrong. Which, given my fire magic abilities and current stress level, wasn't entirely impossible.
Okay, Miyuki. What says 'I'm definitely getting laid this semester' for after-school hours?
I held up a particularly short skirt and grinned. The best part about AMU's strict uniform policy was that it made after-school freedom even sweeter. During classes, I'd be stuck in the standard-issue blazer, shirt, tie, and plaid skirt combo like every other student. But once those final bells rang? Game on.
Thank god for small mercies.
The skirt went in the suitcase along with my favorite crop tops, mini dresses, and club wear. I'd need options for different occasions—casual hanging out in the dorms, parties, dates, and definitely going out to whatever clubs or bars AMU students frequented.
I need to pack smart though. Can't go overboard and look like I brought my entire wardrobe.
Speaking of which...
I pulled out my favorite black lace bra and matching panties, running the silk through my fingers. Definitely bringing the good underwear. Along with the red set, the blue one with the little bows, and probably the white one that made my tits look amazing.
College boys better be ready for me.
The thought sent another little pulse of heat through my body. It had been way too long since I'd had any real action, and masturbation just wasn't cutting it anymore. I needed actual hands on me, actual lips, actual dick. The whole experience, not just my fingers and imagination.
Focus, Miyuki. Finish packing first, then you can think about getting fucked.
But it was hard to focus when every piece of clothing I touched reminded me of taking it off, or having someone else take it off me. The crop tops that showed off my flat stomach and the curve of my breasts. The mini skirts that rode up when I bent over. The low-cut dresses that made guys' eyes follow me wherever I went.
I wonder what kind of guys go to AMU.
Probably lots of different types. Serious academic types who'd be fun to corrupt. Athletic guys from the combat programs who'd know how to use their bodies. Maybe some older graduate students with actual experience instead of fumbling teenage nonsense.
God, I really need to get laid.
Bzzt bzzt
My phone buzzed with a text.
【Kira: Good luck tomorrow! Try not to fuck your way through the entire freshman class in the first week 😏🍆】
I snorted and typed back.
【Me: 💅 No promises. A girl's got needs 😈】
【Kira: Slut. ❤️ I'm proud of you】
【Me: 😘 Miss you too, bitch】
Setting my phone aside, I continued packing, trying to strike the right balance between "respectable student" and "definitely available for a good time." It was a delicate art form, really.
Knock knock knock
I jumped, nearly dropping the lace bra I was holding.
"Come in!"
Dad poked his head through the doorway, smiling when he saw the chaos of clothes and books scattered across my bed. "How's the packing going?"
"Good. Mostly." I gestured at the suitcase. "Just trying to figure out what I actually need versus what I want to bring."
He stepped into the room fully, and I noticed he was carrying a small wrapped box. "I wanted to give you this before tomorrow morning gets too crazy."
A gift?
My chest went tight. Dad wasn't usually the sentimental type, but something about his expression suggested this was important.
I took the box and unwrapped it carefully, revealing a small flame-shaped charm made of what looked like burnished copper with tiny red gems embedded in it.
"Dad..."
"It was your grandmother's," he said quietly. "My mother, Veliana. She was a fire mage too, back before the integration. Used to tell me stories about how she had to hide her abilities, practice in secret because humans were still afraid of elf magic."
I stared at the charm, suddenly understanding why this moment felt so heavy. "I can't take this. It's too important."
"That's exactly why you should have it." Dad smiled softly. "She would have been so proud to see where you're going, what you're accomplishing. The first Shadowmere to attend university, training to work in magical security like it's completely normal."
I closed my fingers around the warm metal, feeling the smooth surface and tiny gem facets. "Is it magic?"
"Minor protection charm. Nothing fancy, but it should help keep you safe." Dad's hands settled on my shoulders. "I know you can take care of yourself, but humor your old man, okay? Keep it close."
I turned around and hugged him tight, feeling suddenly like I was eight years old again instead of eighteen and about to start my adult life. "Thank you. I'll treasure it."
"Just make me proud, sweetheart. Though honestly, you already have."
Don't cry, Miyuki. You're supposed to be the tough one.
"I will," I promised, meaning it completely. "I'm going to work my ass off and graduate with honors and get a job that pays well enough to buy you and Mom a bigger house."
Dad laughed. "Just focus on learning and growing. The rest will come."
After he left, I sat on my bed for a while, holding the charm and thinking about my grandmother. A fire mage who had to hide her abilities, who never got the opportunities I was about to have.
I slipped the charm into the pocket of tomorrow's jeans, where I could touch it whenever I needed to remember what I was working toward.
No pressure or anything.
But the weight of expectation felt good, in a way. Like I had a purpose beyond just getting good grades and having fun. I was carrying forward something bigger than myself.
Tomorrow's going to change everything.
11:32 PM
I was lying in bed staring at the ceiling and trying not to think about how nervous I actually was underneath all the confidence.
What if I don't fit in? What if the other students are way more advanced than me? What if I can't maintain my scholarship GPA?
What if I'm not as good as I think I am?
The doubts circled around my brain like vultures, picking apart every bit of self-assurance I'd built up over the years. Maybe Mom was right about dressing more conservatively. Maybe I should have spent more time studying advanced theory instead of perfecting my practical magic. Maybe—
Stop it. I turned over onto my side, punching my pillow into a better shape. You earned this. You belong there.
But my brain wasn't ready to shut up, and neither was my body. The anxiety was mixing with something else, a restless energy that had been building for weeks. Sexual frustration that had been getting worse as my departure date approached.
I'm too wound up to sleep.
My hand drifted down over my stomach, slipping under the waistband of my sleep shorts. Maybe if I could get myself off, I'd be tired enough to actually fall asleep instead of lying here overthinking everything.
Worth a try.
I pushed my shorts and panties down, kicking them off under the covers. My fingers found my clit easily—I'd been doing this almost every night lately, trying to take the edge off the constant horniness that seemed to be getting worse instead of better.
Fuck, I need this.
I started slow, just light circles while I let my mind wander to more pleasant thoughts than academic anxiety. Like the guys I might meet at AMU. Athletes with muscular bodies and confident hands. Smart, ambitious guys who knew what they wanted and weren't afraid to take it.
Or maybe someone experienced. Graduate student or something.
My breathing got heavier as I worked myself with practiced efficiency. I knew exactly what I liked, exactly how to touch myself to get the best response. Two fingers sliding inside while my thumb worked my clit, building up a steady rhythm that usually had me coming within minutes.
Come on, come on...
But something was off. The pleasure was there, building like it always did, but it felt... hollow. Like I was going through the motions instead of actually getting what I needed.
What the fuck?
I tried switching techniques, using just my clit, then just penetration, then both together again. I tried different fantasies—the hot guy from my high school graduation party, the teacher from my magical combat class who was way too young and attractive for his own good, some faceless college student with perfect abs and a big cock.
Still not working.
The frustration was making it worse, actually. Like my body knew this wasn't what I really wanted and was refusing to cooperate out of spite.
I need the real thing.
The realization hit me like a lightning bolt. Masturbation wasn't going to cut it anymore. I needed actual human contact, actual sex with an actual person who could touch me the way I wanted to be touched.
I need to get fucked. Properly fucked.
My hand stilled between my legs as the full weight of that understanding settled over me. This wasn't just horniness anymore—it was genuine sexual need that wasn't going to be satisfied by my fingers or my vibrator or any amount of fantasy.
College better have some guys who can keep up with me.
I pulled my hand away and reached for the tissues on my nightstand, cleaning up even though I hadn't actually managed to get off. The sexual frustration was still there, coiled tight in my belly like a spring wound too far.
Tomorrow can't come fast enough.
Rolling onto my back, I stared at the ceiling again, but this time my thoughts weren't about academic anxiety. They were about finally having the freedom to do something about this constant, nagging need for real sexual satisfaction.
I'm going to fuck so many college guys.
The thought made me grin in the darkness. Let whatever stuck-up students judge me for being too sexual or too aggressive or too much. I knew what I wanted, and I wasn't going to apologize for going after it.
AMU better be ready for Miyuki Shadowmere.
I slipped my hand into the pocket of my jeans where I'd put grandmother's charm, feeling the warm metal against my fingertips. She'd fought for the right to use her magic openly. I was going to fight for the right to be completely, unapologetically myself.
Starting tomorrow.