#I don't like my handwriting ;w; | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sceletaflores · 4 months ago

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couldn't help it, i had to kiss the teacher!

pair: professor!logan howlett x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, established relationship, age gap (reader is mid twenties...logan is...his age), gratuitous nickname usage, public sex (classroom), oral sex (fem!receiving), fingering (fem!receiving), an impromptu clitoral anatomy lesson, scent kink, hair pulling, light traces of a foot fetish (i'm literally not even sorry), nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, nat trying to sound smart, porn w/o plot, no use of y/n.

a/n: based off of me going to my a&p lab today and getting super bored which somehow led to thoughts about professor logan who teaches a&p…that then spiraled into this very quickly. p.s this is like a t.a!reader not a student lol

professor logan has a special way of helping you retain information...

You've been huffing and puffing for the last twenty minutes.

Logan has been blatantly ignoring you for the last twenty minutes, because that's the only way a man with enhanced hearing can ignore someone.

Blatantly.

He's been at the chalkboard since you came in a little after his last class ended, busy mapping out his lesson plan for tomorrow.

The chalk squeaks rhythmically as he writes, you tap your foot in time with it.

You're perched on top of his desk, different stacks of papers messily scattered all around you like a tornado of ungraded essays and homework assignments tore across the glossy cherry wood of it.

You glare at Logan's back harder, forcing yourself to ignore the way his muscles glide and flex beneath the thin fabric of his flannel with every move. You've got your chin resting on the palm of your hand that's propped against your knee, the other holding a red pen down by your shoe.

You sigh, long and overdramatic, for what feels like the millionth time.

Logan doesn't turn around, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move at all. His hand hardly even slows, jotting down different tissue structures with infuriating disinterest.

You shift on his desk with a huff, dragging your eyes back to the paper in front of you. You scan over the messy handwriting and tiny diagrams littered over the page as you tap the pen in your hand against the toe of your shoe absentmindedly.

"Knock it off," Logan mutters from across the room, not looking at you as he does. It's the first thing he's said to you since you showed up.

You instantly perk up at the attention, flicking your eyes back to him.

��Knock what off?” you ask innocently, tapping the pen on your shoe harder than before. The tiny 'clack' sound it makes is sharp in the quiet of the room.

Logan finally turns, fixing you with a look that’s equal parts annoyance and amusement. “The sighin’, the tappin’, the huffin’ like you’re a broken radiator. You’ve been makin’ noise since you sat down.”

You narrow your eyes at him, unrepentant. "I’m bored."

He lets out a dry chuckle, turning back towards to board with a amused shake of his head. “Not my problem, sweetheart.”

You frown, dropping the pen and sitting up straighter, as if you’ve just been handed a challenge. "You could try and help me," you suggest, gesturing to the scattered pile with a wave of your hand. "You know? Like a good professor would."

"I don't grade papers, kid. That's what you're here for." Logan shoots over his shoulder, seamlessly picking up where he left off. “Besides, I’m good with the chalkboard for now. Better company.”

“Chalk doesn’t talk back,” you grumble under your breath.

“Exactly.”

“Oh, so now you can hear me?"

Logan doesn’t bother replying, but you can see the barely there smirk turning up the corners of his mouth.

You scoot forward on his desk, pushing papers out of the way so your legs can dangle over the edge. You swing your feet back and forth, just enough to disturb another pile of papers sitting nearby, watching them slide closer to the edge.

One more swing and the corner of a stack teeters precariously. You bite your lip, considering whether or not to send it tumbling just to see if that would get him to turn around again.

Logan, of course, somehow knows exactly what you’re thinking without even glancing towards you. “Don’t,” he grumbles lowly, a warning.

You freeze mid-swing, but the urge to push his buttons is too tempting. "What?" you say, all wide-eyed innocence, nudging the pile ever so slightly with your knee.

Logan lets out a deep sigh, giving you a sideways glance over his shoulder. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth sometimes, you know that? I doubt Hank's help nags him half as much.”

You grin, taking that as a small victory.

"I was recommended," you remind him, tone overly cheery and saccharine.

"Must've been desperate," he mutters, finally stepping away from the board and dusting chalk from his hands. Logan turns, crossing his arms as he leans back against the chalkboard, giving you a look that says he’s just on the edge of being amused

You raise an eyebrow, fixing him with a blank stare. "I’ll be sure to pass that along to Professor Xavier."

Logan shakes his head, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “Yeah? Be my guest. Make sure you tell him you’re spendin’ your time testin' my patience instead of your job.”

You slump back on the desk with a groan, head tilted towards the ceiling. "It's been forever since I've taken this class," you whine, rolling your head to the left lazily. "I hardly remember any of this, how am I supposed to grade it?"

"Barely remember any of this?" he repeats back to you, brow raised in disapproval. He pushes off the chalkboard and starts to make his way towards you. His steps are slow, deliberate, like he’s sizing you up—though you know it’s mostly for show.

Mostly.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes, still splayed back on your palms and kicking your feet languidly. There’s chalk dust littered over his chest and the front of his thighs, coating them in a thin layer white. Your gaze trails the path of his steps, a slow smile tugging at your lips the closer he gets.

Logan stops in front of you, his towering frame almost filling your view entirely. You’re able to look him in the eyes perched on his desk like this, the green of them is darker than normal.

He crosses his arms over his chest, his eyes glint with a teasing challenge as he tilts his head slightly, like he’s daring you to keep going.

“You got cotton in your ears when I’m up there talking or what?” he asks, voice dipping lower than before.

Your smile widens, and you shrug, trying to keep your cool under his heavy gaze. “You know I can’t listen to you when you wear jeans that tight.”

His eyes lock onto yours, their usual sharpness softened by something more dangerous, something that sends a thrill down your spine. "Maybe if you paid a little more attention," he says, voice a low rumble, "you wouldn’t need to whine so much."

You roll your eyes, even as the heat between you starts to curl in your chest. "Or maybe," you counter, leaning back a touch more and tilting your head up to meet his gaze better, "you could actually help me instead of being a complete pain in the—"

Before you can finish, Logan’s hands slam down on either side of you, caging you in. His face is inches from yours now, that barely-there smirk playing on his lips again.

You can feel the warmth radiating off him, the sharp edge of his stare cutting through your casual defiance.

“—ass,” you finally finish, voice slightly more breathless than before.

Logan just stares at you, the intense and unwavering attention you were itching for earlier makes you want to squirm in place now. His gaze is almost predatory, as if he’s taking in every flutter of your eyelashes and the quickening pace of your breath.

Your heart skips a beat, but you don’t back down.

You lean forward a little, tilting your head. "So, what’s it gonna take to get you to grade just one of these?" You pick up a paper from the pile and wave it in front of him teasingly. “I really need your help, professor.”

The word drips from your lips like a challenge, a taunt.

Logan’s eyes flicker with something dangerous, a flash of heat that tells you he’s not as unaffected as he pretends to be. His fingers brush against the desk right beside your thigh, close enough to feel the warmth of him but it’s still too far.

He leans down slightly, inches away from your lips. His breath mingles with yours, warm and inviting, as the tension in the air thickens.

The scent of him—woodsy and masculine—invades your senses, and you can’t help but feel exhilarated. Your pulse starts to race, a mix of excitement and a hint of challenge flashing between you.

You let out a soft breath, eyes fluttering shut as you lean forward almost involuntarily.

Just as you’re about to close the gap, he pulls back, straightening up with a smug grin.

“Tell you what,” he starts, voice gone casual like he isn’t testing the very limits of your sanity. “I’ll help you.”

You open your mouth, cocky victory speech on the tip of your tongue, but Logan cuts you off.

“Not with grading,” he clarifies with a shake of his head. “It’s more like a," he takes a slow pause, like he's trying to find the right words, "personalized lesson.”

You swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse thunders in your ears. "What kind of lesson are we talking about?" you ask, trying to keep your voice steady but it still comes out breathless.

His hands move from the desk, gliding up your legs until they rest just above your knees, the warmth of his touch igniting every nerve ending in your body.

“Logan—”

Anything you were going to say dissolves into a breathy gasp when he drops to his knees in front of you.

Your thighs clench together, arousal pooling in your panties sticky and wet. Logan's nose twitches, eyes darkening as he scents the headiness of your essence in the air.

His mouth twitches into a slow, deliberate grin as he catches the shift in your scent, the change in your body language betraying your desire.

His hands, firm yet careful, slide higher along your thighs, fingers brushing the sensitive skin just beneath the hem of your skirt. The fabric rucks up ever so slightly under his touch, exposing just a little more of you to the cool air of the room and the heat of his gaze.

"Real quiet now," he teases darkly, voice husky and thick with tension, his thumbs tracing small, maddening circles against your skin. "Not so mouthy anymore, huh?"

Your breath hitches, a low heat sparking in the pit of your stomach and spreading outward.

Logan's grip tightens slightly, as though he’s testing the weight of your response, the way your thighs tense beneath his hands. He looks up at you, eyes dark and gleaming with an intensity that makes it impossible to think straight.

“You talk a lot of game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice sending a thrill down your spine, “but I think it’s time to show me you can learn something."

You tilt your head back, trying to steady yourself, but it’s no use. Your body’s betraying you, hips shifting slightly forward, your legs spreading just so, inviting more of his touch—inviting him to make good on that unspoken promise that hangs between you.

Logan’s smirk deepens, dangerously close to devouring the last of your composure. "All you gotta do," he drawls, his breath hot against the inside of your thigh, "is ask for it."

His hands slide up a little more, his fingers catching on the edge of your panties. You can't help the sharp inhale that escapes you.

His challenge hangs in the air, thick and heavy, but you're past the point of hesitation. The words leave your lips before you even realize it.

"Teach me."

Logan’s grin spreads like wildfire, the kind that sparks and sets everything in its path ablaze. His eyes never leave yours, holding you captive as he flips your skirt up.

Something low and gritty tears its way from his chest at the sight of your panties, soaked fabric melded against the shape of your aching pussy. The sound echoes in the quiet room, low and primal, stirring a deep thrum of excitement in the pit of your stomach.

He shoves his way between your thighs, spreading them even further to make enough room for the width of his shoulders.

"You're a smart girl," Logan says easily, leaning down to trail kisses along the skin of your inner thigh, just inches from where you really need his mouth. "You should be able to tell me what tissue this is made of."

He dips his head, trailing his nose along the soaked fabric of your cotton panties until it nudges against your clit.

"Logan, I– ah!”

A sharp slap to your thigh cuts you off, pinpricks of pleasure making you cry out as they bloom red across your skin.

“Is that what you call me?”

It takes a second to click in the haze of your mind, what he’s asking for. When it finally does, you're whole body shivers, a broken moan falling from your lips as you take in the expectant look in Logan's eyes.

Your mind whirls, but the answer tumbles from your lips like a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

"Professor," you gasp, voice soft and laced with need.

Logan's grin is devilish, hands gripping your hips tight enough that you can feel the strength behind them.

"Good girl," he growls, voice thick with approval, the heat in his gaze burning you from the inside out.

You let out a soft whimper, hips instinctively tilting toward him, silently begging for more. But he doesn’t move. Instead, his grip on your thighs tightens, holding you firmly in place.

“Uh-uh," he rumbles, his mouth inches from you, but not close enough to touch. "You know how this works. You haven’t answered my question."

You can’t respond, silent as you stare down at Logan, wide-eyed as your mind races for anything to say that’ll get him to keep going.

"Come on, baby," he urges, thumbs rubbing slow circles over your skin. "Just tell me somethin' smart, I'll give you what you want."

You try to focus, try to remember something—anything—about what he taught in class. But all you can think about is the way his hands feel on your thighs, the heat of his breath, the maddening nearness of his mouth.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing the edge of your panties, just shy of where you need him most, and you can't help the frustrated groan that escapes you.

“What's sweet thing made of?" He nudges the soaked fabric against your clit again, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Fuck...erectile tissue," you manage to breathe out, mind fogged as you claw for the right answer. "But it's—it's surface is covered in epithelial tissue."

Extra credit.

Logan hums, the sound low and approving.

"Very good," he murmurs, his hands slipping beneath your panties, pushing the fabric aside. The first touch of his fingers against your bare skin sends a shiver of pure pleasure through you, your body arching off the desk in response.

His fingers tease along your slit, and you bite your lip to stifle the whimper threatening to spill out. Logan watches you closely, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he spreads you open with his fingers, exposing the slick heat between your legs.

Your back arches off the desk with a loud moan, hands gripping the edge hard enough that your knuckles turn white with it.

“Fuck, look at that,” he mutters, more to himself than to you, sliding his index finger through the wetness gathering at your entrance. “This is all for me? This pretty pussy all wet for your professor?

He presses a finger against your entrance, teasingly pushing just the tip inside before pulling back, relishing the way your body instinctively arches toward him.

You shake your head, peering down at him with glassy eyes. “You were never my professor,” you shoot back breathlessly, unable to keep from pushing against him even now.

Logan hums absentmindedly, eyes glued to the space between your legs. “Lucky you,” he drawls, sinking two fingers inside you without warning.

Your head falls back with a cry, thighs tightening around his shoulders as sparks go off at the base of your spine.

“Now, tell me how you feel,” Logan prompts, his voice gravelly and filled with that dark, teasing edge. His fingers glide up, slick as they draw tantalizing circles over your clit that set your nerves ablaze.

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, embarrassment mixing with arousal as you wrestle with the overwhelming sensations. “I—uh,” you stammer, trying to organize your thoughts, but they slip away like sand through your fingers. “I feel–ah!…good.”

Logan lets out a chuckle. “Good, huh? Just good? You can do better than that. Don't get shy now, baby.”

His hand speeds up, the lewd noise of your slick pussy fills the room with each thrust. “What’s it feel like when I’ve got my fingers in you, hm?”

The dam breaks inside of you, all the embarrassment leaving your body as your hips start rocking down against him lightly.

“Feels so good,” you slur, head lolling to the side to watch him through half-lidded eyes. “Your fingers feel so good in me, professor.”

You’re playing with fire and you know it, but when your eyes slip down his body to find the hard imprint of his cock more than visible through his jeans, you can’t help yourself.

You slide your foot up his toned thigh until the chunky sole brushes against the tented denim.

Logan’s eyes flutter shut for just a second, his grin turning almost feral as he feels the pressure of your foot against him. His hips rock forward slightly, just enough to acknowledge your touch.

“You’re pushin’ your luck, kid,” he bites out, voice rough as gravel, but there's a thread of amusement running through it—like he’s enjoying this game just as much as you are.

You give him a slow, languid smile. "Maybe I like pushing," you breathe, dragging your foot up and down the length of him slowly.

Logan groans darkly, sliding his fingers out of you in one slick motion that makes you whine in protest. His hand moves to grip your ankle, firm but not painful, keeping you pressed against his cock.

“God, you smell so fuckin’ good,” he says quietly, the words passing through his lips like he couldn’t hold them in anymore. He brings his soaked fingers to his lips, sucking them clean with a groan.

"Taste even better." His voice is rough, filled with desire that matches your own. You can’t hold back the whimper that escapes your lips, your hips bucking involuntarily, begging for more.

His grin widens, and finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, he gives in. Logan lowers his head, his mouth pressing against your clit in a slow, deliberate kiss that has your back arching off the desk, a strangled cry ripping from your throat.

Your hands find his hair, fingers tangling in the thick strands as you guide him closer, urging him on. His tongue flicks against your clit expertly, his stubble scratching deliciously against your skin with every drag of his head.

Your body feels like it’s been set on fire. The heat builds in your core, faster than you can control, a coil winding tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“I—I think I’m going to—” you stammer, overwhelmed by the pleasure as he picks up the pace, fingers moving faster.

“Tell me,” he growls, the rumble of it vibrating against your clit as he holds your gaze, plunging his fingers back inside of you. “I want to hear you say it.”

“God, Professor! Fuck, Logan, I’m gonna—” you cry out, your body trembling, ready to explode. Your pussy weeps around the stretch of his thick fingers, soaking his hand and his wrist with your wetness.

"Atta' girl," he growls, pressing his thumb over your clit to send a jolt of ecstasy through your core. "Makin' a fuckin’ mess all over my desk, just like that.”

He leans in, wrapping his mouth around your clit and sucking while his fingers keep up their relentless pace. With barely any pressure, he drags the harsh edge of his teeth over your clit and sends you tumbling over the edge, your body arching into his mouth as you come.

The sheer force of it has your whole body tensing, your foot pressing on the clothed length of his cock harder than before. Logan groans at the feeling, eyes screwing shut as his hips buck up against the heel of your shoe.

As you ride the waves of ecstasy, Logan’s eyes stay locked on yours, watching. Greedy eyes taking in every detail of your face, every moan and whimper that falls from your slick lips, every tremor of your body.

He doesn’t relent, his fingers working you through the aftershocks, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you until you’re left breathless, heart racing, and utterly spent.

As you come down from the high, you glance at him, chest heaving with exertion.

Logan’s already looking at you, his gaze has a little more softness mixed in with the heat still simmering. He drops one last kiss to the slick skin of your thigh before pushing your foot off his lap and standing. His lips and chin glistening with your release, that cocky smirk still firmly in place as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

Your eyes fall to where he’s still hard and tenting the denim of his jeans, pre-come leaking from the tip to stain the fabric darker.

“Ready for another one,” he whispers, leaning in close. His lips brush over yours, hips slotting between your thighs to grind the hard length of his cock along your sensitive pussy.

You can’t help the smug smile that takes over your face, your arms raising up to circle around his neck. Your eyes trail along the boards forgotten lesson plan over his shoulder, to the papers that were sitting on his desk scattered on the hardwood.

Your legs circle his waist, dragging him closer. "I think so."

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uravitypng · 2 months ago

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soulmate hanta who is completely oblivious that it's almost shocking. the way you skirt around the subject of soulmates whenever someone brings it up, while nervous and looking everywhere that isn't in his direction.

you think you've been careful, you think you've tried to not put hanta in a difficult position and people do let the topic go when you try to avoid it. they don't think your soulmate is hanta but they know something is up.

hanta doesn't. for someone who spends all his time with you, thinks about you all the time, and always pays attention to the little things you do he doesn't notice something is up about the topic of soulmates. you act like he acts around the subject so it doesn't weigh on his mind at all.

soulmate hanta used to get asked a lot about his soulmate. denki whining about how he hasn't found his soulmate yet. "i know they're out there somewhere! it just sucks that i haven't found them yet! aren't you in the same boat? loads of people have already found their soulmates or are uploading pictures online trying to find them! there's a whole reddit page dedicated to it, it's so frustrating."

"i don't care about my soulmate," he responded flatly and kaminari looks at him like he's grown two heads.

one day in your second year of ua iida and hatsume walk around campus stuck together, glued to the hip. it seemed super out of character for him. he didn't even tell anyone he found his soulmate, not until the following week where asai asked about why he was spending so much time together with her. hanta regrets being in the room when that happens. "she's my soulmate."

"what?" midoriya looks so excited for him. "so many people have found their soulmate now! there's not many people that haven't, i'm so happy for you iida. speaking of soulmates how are you and uraraka tsu? you found each other before i found todoroki and before most people found there soulmate."

he drowns out her answer but when hearing his name he's back to paying attention, that is, before hearing the full question and wishing he was anywhere else. "sero you still haven't found your soulmate right? i'm sure you will soon."

"thanks midoriya but i'm not interested in meeting my soulmate." his phone is face up on the table, it beeps and he sees a text from you, his whole face lights up. they all see your name flash on his phone, a photo of you and him on his background, they never bring up his soulmate again.

in your third year of ua mina comes bounding into the dorm shouting about how she's found her soulmate. "i've never even really spoken to yui before but i've always thought she was pretty and her quirk is so cool! sero have you posted a photo of your mark online? you never know if someone will come across it and it'll be you introducing yourself or they'll recognise their handwriting."

"even if i did find my soulmate it wouldn't matter." she's about to ask what you mean but you walk into the room, his eyes trail yours with fondness she's never seen in his before and drops the subject.

people don't ask him questions anymore. he doesn't care about his soulmate because he has you.

soulmate hanta who, even though he doesn't get asked about by his friends anymore, still has to see online articles and speculation from fans all over social media. 'have the famous ua alumni war heroes found their soulmates?' 'i'm still holding out hope that me and cellaphane are soulmates !!!!' 'cellaphane and froppy spotted together out of their hero suits.'

after reading the headline, 'PROOF that reveals pro hero cellaphane's soulmate,' he made sure to never enter that restaurant in the thumbnail with you again. the whole article is full of photos taken by fans and paparazzi of the two of you. there's a lot of them but it makes sense to him with how much time you spend together. there's more regular photos like you two on patrol or walking down carpets together on your way into the entrances to a gala and some not so regular ones that fans have taken without either of your knowledge or consent but that's one of the cons about being a hero.

there's a photo taken at the cinema when you went to see the new studio ghibli film the boy and and the heron. you can tell it's the two of you even though it's dark, his elbows and your hair gives it away. you're leaning against him and sharing popcorn, his arm resting on the armrest.

there's a photo of his tape wrapped around your hand, while you're both grinning, it was christmastime and you were shopping, you couldn't find any tape so he said he'd give you some of his.

there's a blurry photo taken of the two of you in a small cafe, it looks like it was taken in a hurry. you and hanta are sitting across from each other at a table and you've got your mouth open, hanta's leaning forward with a fork, going to feed you some of his food.

there's dozens of photos and it just makes him want to be more careful when going out in public with disguises.

'PROOF that reveals pro hero cellaphane's soulmate.' hanta wishes that was true.

he looked at the first comment but clicked off when it was someone talking about how you're 'couple goals,' the amount of likes on that comment was astonishingly high for two words.

soulmate hanta doesn't care if people see his soulmate mark, he doesn't even think about so when he lifts up his jumper and his shirt lifts up as well during games night bakugou scowls.

he doesn't remember random words and sentences his friends said to each other nearly a decade ago now. but this. he knows this. on hanta's hip, in your handwriting, is his soulmate mark.

bakugou knows your writing well, he made you study. he'd put a timer on his phone and you'd sit together studying until the timer ran out, he'd talk you through anything you didn't know and understand. he'd snatch your paper out of your hand after it got graded and read everything you wrote. bakugou is one of the reasons you passed your classes, he's probably the only reason you passed your classes. that's why he knows that's your handwriting and seeing that it's your handwriting just pisses him off.

'why the hell is soy sauce face always looking at her like that if she's his soulmate and they're destined together.'

someone else could think that they're together but just haven't announced it to the public but bakugou knows that isn't true. he knows you're single, he's a hundred percent sure you are. it's true that something is definitely up about your soulmate situation and now he's got a clue of what that might be but whenever he makes a comment about how being single is good for his career because he can focus more on being number one you agree with the same sentiment.

'does that mean she rejected him? i don't know about that. would someone spend that much time with someone they rejected? what if they never realised. no that doesn't seem possible.'

"yo bakugou, you good? you're just kind of staring at sero with daggers in your eyes." kirishima asks noticing that bakugou hasn't taken his off of sero for awhile.

bakugou is straightforward, he's honest, he speaks his mind, he cares about his friend even if the public doesn't understand that. he gives his friends nicknames that people don't understand, even though he's the number one hero he still get's backlash for that. even with the backlash the nicknames stay the same, his first two friends at ua still get called 'shitty hair' and 'shitty women', he still calls denki 'dunce face', jirou 'ears' but he cares about them all.

all that caring is amplified when it's comes to you and you're involved, he's protective of you- emotionally. ever since he's met you you've been competing on who's better, you're the number ten hero always saying that you'll take his place soon, he knows you can handle yourself but when it comes to emotion- he worries. without him would you be friends with all the people you are now? you were worse at making connections with people than bakugou was and that's saying something, all because you were so quiet and worried about your soulmate situation.

he knows there's speculation that you're his soulmate but you both ignore it, he doesn't love you, at least romantically. it's definitely an emotion he can't put his finger on though, he guesses it's likely brotherly love but he's an only child so he can't be sure about that.

"why the hell do you act all lovesick all the time when your soulmate is spending everyday with you?"

hanta's mind goes blank. what the hell is he talking about? "huh, i- what?"

bakugou tuts, 'why is he acting like he doesn't know?' "i'm not a fucking idiot. shitty women's handwriting is on your hip."

hanta's eyebrows furrow, "i think i'd know if one of my best friends was my soulmate bakugou. this isn't her writing."

"holy fuck, you are an idiot. i've spent enough time studying with her to know."

"you obviously didn't if you think that." hanta retorts. 'there's just no way that's her writing.' he hasn't actually seen your handwriting that much and certainly not in recent years. it's one of the things he hasn't committed to memory about you but he knows for a fact that's not your handwriting. 'wait was does my soulmate mark even say?' he doesn't remember, he hasn't properly looked at it for so long now.

hanta lifts up his top again to read what it says, tilting his head trying to read it upside down. bakugou answers his silent request knowing that he wouldn't have asked and tells him what is says.

"i don't remember hearing 'thanks sero, you were great too,' but... wait, that... that does look a bit like her handwriting." he stares at the mark, trying to think back.

"yeah, plain face that's because it is." bakugou crosses his arms and looks at him annoyed.

soulmate hanta thinks everything bakugou just said to him through. "hold up," hanta lets go of his top again letting it drop down and moves around the all the furniture to go into a back room. he's so glad this game night is taking place at his. he leaves without anymore explanation and starts rummaging around in his spare room where he keeps things from the past, from ua and before that.

in one of the cardboard boxes at the back is notes from you that he's kept. they weren't meaningful or particularly very sentimental but they were notes you passed him in class. you sat far away from each other and would do mad libs and hangman. he didn't focus on the way you wrote each singular letter at the time.

you'd give him notes that said things like '6 letters. clue: current annoyance' he was able to win that fairly easy. after winning, writing back 'is mineta a current annoyance if you're always annoyed at him?'

you'd pass back a note for him that read, 'write me back: celebrity name, colour, adjective, object, colour, emotion, animal! after class - if you can read the completed filled in sentence without laughing or smiling you get to choose the film for tonight' it was always hard for him not to laugh or smile, especially when he had to say things like "hawks always wanted an orange handsome dildo-" he couldn't keep it in and grinned after that, you ended up choosing the film.

hanta can't pinpoint the exact moment he started to crumple up the paper, holding it tightly in his hand. he's figured it out, that's your handwriting! he clutches onto his shirt and takes deep breathes. he has to tell you! you have to know! you're meant to be together the proof is right in front of him, the proof is forever marked into his skin. it'll be a shock to you and he knows it's probably not the best to spring it on you but you have to know.

leaving all the notes scattered across the floor he quickly gets up to talk to everyone. "bakugou's right!" bakugou rolls his eyes at that. "i-i can't believe she's actually my soulmate. i have to go."

"wait what, go where?" kirishima questions. kaminari overlaps him, at the same time congratulating him.

"she's not on duty tonight, i have to tell her!" no one really has a proper chance to respond before he's already left.

"should we leave?" kirishima looks around the room.

"nah, we've already opened our drinks and booted up the tv. we'll go later." kaminari picks up his beer.

soulmate hanta who rushes over to where you live, banging on the front door loudly. you wonder who's knocking at such an hour and so noisily at that. it's not abnormal for hanta to come by but he's with the guys tonight and he doesn't knock like this, he usually knocks the same pattern which he refers to as his own chime of a doorbell. you open the door and you're surprised to see hanta, looking at you... strangely? "oh, hanta! i wasn't expecting you. weren't you supposed to be hosting games night tonight? is everything okay?"

hanta doesn't answer the question and instead asks, "can i come in?" he says in a low voice and licks his lips, wetting them. your eyes quickly glance at the movement before looking back up at his almond eyes. you move to the side for him to come in and shut the door behind him. you don't think something's wrong, at least it doesn't look like something's wrong by the way he's looking at you and his posture. he's looking at you for a second before pacing around the room, you don't press him on anything you just stand where you are and wait for whatever he needs. he stops his pacing and turns back to you, the intense look in his eye almost makes you want to squirm out of embarrassment for being seen that much. "i need to tell you something."

"okay," you respond, prolonging the end of the word. you're confused.

"we're soulmate!" hanta almost shouts at you. with knitted eyebrows and a bewildered expression you repeat okay. "w-w-what do you mean okay?" didn't you just hear me?" hanta's in disbelief and he scans your face.

"i mean... i heard you but i don't know why you're telling me something we both know." you don't even have time to feel anything other than puzzled. this situation should be making you feel heavyhearted or heartbroken but instead it's just filled with questions of 'why is he bringing this up? we already know this.'

hanta splutters, "why are you acting like you already know this?"

your mind goes blank.

"what?" you whisper, your mouth is dry and your limbs feel heavy. ''why is he acting like this? he doesn't seem drunk or high. is he being controlled by someone? there's no way he'd be this cruel.' you open your mouth breathing softly and you're finding it hard to keep your breathing steady. "why are you being like this hanta? it's cruel." your voice is even quieter than it was.

hanta's eyes soften as he sees you and goes to reach out to you before stopping himself. "i'm not trying to be cruel, i'm just trying to understand what you're saying. i've just found out you're my soulmate and i needed you to know... but... but you're acting... you're saying that you already know. i don't understand why you've kept it a secret."

you blink slowly, trying to process everything hanta's just told you. "what do you mean that you just found out? i haven't kept anything a secret. i knew from the very beginning we met. you tripped over my bag and praised me after a practical lesson. did you really forget?"

soulmate hanta's eyes widen. "forget?! i didn't even know. you really think i'd forget the woman i've been in love with since i saw her is my soulmate."

you have questions but all you can focus on is, "you love me?" you ask- softly. shyly.

hanta goes bright red. "w-well yeah, of course i do." you giggle and he smiles affectionately at you, he loves hearing you laugh especially when he's the one getting you to do it.

"i love you too," you let him know sweetly.

hanta grins, "really?"

you hum and nod your head. "did you really not know?" hanta shakes his head. "how did you find out in the end though?"

hanta rubs the back of his neck and appears guilty as he responds, "oh, that... well, it was bakugou. he saw my mark and knew it was your writing."

you pout at him, "god, you didn't even realise yourself." hanta chuckles nervously. "what am i going to do with you hey? my oblivious soulmate." you wrap your arms around him and hug him, your face on his chest, gazing up to make eye contact.

soulmate hanta grins when he hears you call him your soulmate and reciprocates the hug, holding onto you and squeezing lightly for a second. "i can't imagine what it must of felt like for you, i'm sorry. all those wasted years we could of had together if only i connected the dots better. i promise i'll make it up to you."

there's plenty of time to talk about your feelings, to express to him how you felt rejected. there's your whole life for that but right now there's something better. "oh, how are you going to make it up to me?" you say teasingly and smirk.

hanta chuckles loudly and grins, "what do you have in mind?" one of his hands that was holding you sneaks in under your top. neither of you have ever done this before but soulmates are made for each other, you'll know each other's body better than you know your own because, at the end of the day, you're meant to be.

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getosbigballsack · 10 months ago

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Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again.

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch.

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son.

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug.

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves.

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face.

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity.

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed.

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see.

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.”

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him.

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered.

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you.

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.”

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue.

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest.

“I- I’ll do better.”

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said.

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks.

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle.

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?”

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.”

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face.

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.”

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

#gojo smut #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #gojo angst #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #satorugojo #jujutsu satoru #satoru smut

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777heavengirl · 5 months ago

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request: sirius black with a very sarcastic, unserious, independent ravenclaw? :)

note: I hope u like it! It's a little short and sweet MWAH xoxo, warnings: n/a, GN!Reader w the exception of the use of doll which ig is also gender-neutral... idk... whatever!! masterlist

"How's the most beautiful intelligent person in the castle?" Sirius beamed at you widely, a seemingly innocent smile that made your insides flutter regardless of knowing its falsity.

"If you didn't do your potions essay, you're screwed" He twisted his head with a whine, pulling at your sleeves. You couldn't help but chuckle at the faux tantrum.

"What good is it to be dating a Ravenclaw if I can't bum some essay off of you?" He whined like a child, pulling at you again. Sirius was as dramatic as ever but you loved him nonetheless.

He didn't need to know that.

"First of all, Mr Black do I look like I'm going to give you my hard work for free?" He nodded at this, a smile on his face once again his hands extended towards you. The library was fairly quiet, you could see your potions partner scratching away with her quill a couple of tables away, the stress of the oncoming class on her shoulders. Sirius should've been doing the same. "The answer is no,"

"Doll, you don't understand you gotta help me out here-"

"Second of all, I wasn't finished," You gave him a pointed, playful look. "What kind of partner would I be if I impeded, harmed if you will, your education by allowing you to cheat-"

"The best actually, I reckon you'd get an award," you tried so hard not to giggle or even smile, you knew by the curve of his lips you were failing "They'd give you a bloody Order of Merlin for it"

You wanted to make him sweat for it

"I fear not, my dearest, come on-" you patted the seat next to you "You've got about two hours 'til potions so I suggest you start cracking" Sirius dragged himself to the seat, his head hung low in protest.

You shuffled your belongings around, cleaning and collecting them in your bag, and got up, Sirius looked at you in desperation.

"What? d'you think I was staying?" you laughed at his expression, "I got things to do baby-" you pressed a kiss to his cheek "See you in Potions"

You grabbed your bag with a wink, and as you walked away Sirius realized you had left a very long piece of parchment behind. Your neat handwriting spelling out on the top "Veritaserum: Methods and Effects".

Sirius silently thanked the stars for your existence.

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders era #padfoot #sirius x reader #sirius o black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black x reader #sirius blurb

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senanatheskenana · 9 months ago

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Being Their Soul Mate <3

Tanjirou, Zenitsu, Inosuke x reader (separate)

Tanjirou Kamado

From the moment you got close enough for Tanjirou to smell, he knew you were his soul mate. And before you know it, he's sprinting towards you, following the perfect smell. He stops in front of you, blushing like a fool from head to toe.

You can feel the pull towards him, even without an introduction. Your eyes can hardly leave each other, basking in the overwhelming silence. You smile at him, your own cheeks tinted pink, holding out your hand to him. He jumps out of his daze and grips your hand enthusiastically, bringing it to his lips to place a heartfelt kiss on your knuckles.

"I'm sorry to be so forward, i really should have introduced myself before. Please forgive me!" he bows deeply- so deeply you think his head may hit the floor. You fight back a sheepish laugh, shaking your head.

"My name is Tanjirou Kamado, it's beyond a pleasure to meet you," he still holds your hand carefully, loose enough for you to pull it away should you desire to. You don't.

"I'm (f/n) (l/n). I never imagined my soul mate to be as sweet as you, Tanjirou," you can see how his face turns even redder at your words, stuttering out broken sentences.

You gently squeeze his hand, "Did you want to join me on my walk? we have a lot to talk about, I feel"

He nods eagerly, letting you pull him through the streets, all while staring bashfully at the way your hair sways as you move. He thinks he might already be in love.

Zenitsu Agatsuma

'Marry me!'

Those were the words inked into your wrist. A brash, scribbling handwriting. Admittedly you were worried about the circumstances of you meeting your soul mate, given the intense first words.

Evidently, the situation was not nearly as sad as you worried it could be. You weren't being married off, no.

Your soul mate was just super weird.

You shake your leg, hoping to remove the boy from his hold. He's sobbing on the floor, mumbling incoherent pleas at you, still shaken up from the demon he would have been attacked by, had you not struck.

"W-what the hell? You can't just spring that on someone!" you squeal. Finally, he lets go, a look of shock on his face. A moment later a shockingly warm sensation takes over the two of you. You grip your wrist, and he scratches at his shoulder, letting out yelps of 'ouchies'

You look down at your wrist to see the letters glowing gold, pulsing against your bones. Zenitsu gazes up at you momentarily before bawling and returning to clinging onto your legs. You take the time to help him up while his two friends watch in confusion and embarrassment at his actions.

He holds both of your hands and brings them to his cheeks, and you can feel how hot his face is. "Y-you're my soul mate. That means you have to marry me"

You sigh but smile. At least he was enthusiastic, you guessed.

"Maybe let's just start with a date and we can go from there" His tears disappear at your words, replaced by a gigantic smile, not even you can resist.

Inosuke Hashibira

For as long as Inosuke can remember, he's had the name (f/n) (l/n) engraved into his collarbone. Too bad he couldn't read it without Tanjirou's help.

"(f/n) (l/n)..." Tanjirou taps his chin in thought for a moment before gasping, "I got it- that's the ice pillar's name! "

Zenitsu fawns at the idea, "Wow, imagine having a soul mate strong enough to be a Hashira"

He hears the word strong and immediately puffs out his chest, "If they're strong, I'm gonna beat 'em!" Tanjirou now realises that Inosuke doesn't know the concept of Soul Mates.

By the time he tries to explain it, the boy is sprinting through the courtyard, dodging pillars and kakushi.

"Inosuke-" Tanjirou cannot finish his mortified plea.

"ICE HASHIRA COME HERE AND FIGHT ME!" everyone turns towards him in shock and confusion.

"Don't be so loud! if you really wanna see them, they're sitting on that bench" Sanemi scowls at the group of boys, making Tanjirou blanch, uttering apologies.

You're peacefully lying across the bench, nose planted firmly in your book when a shadow falls over you. Slowly you gaze up at the man towering over you before moving to sit up straight.

You recognise the boy in the checkered haori, smiling "Hello Tanjirou. It's nice to see you again. Are these your friends"

Before a smiling Tanjirou can respond, Inosuke brings his sword down beside your hand.

"FIGHT ME!" his face flushes with blood as he seethes under his mask.

You give him a serene smile, "I'm sorry but I believe it would be dangerous for you if I were to fight back."

He pays no mind and swings his sword above him. He looks down only to find you gone in the blink of an eye. In less than three seconds, his katanas are wrenched out of his hands as he is pinned to the ground.

Tanjirou gasps at the embarrassingly short battle- if you could call it such. "Inosuke! Are you both alright?"

'Inosuke?'

You glance down at the man under your foot, "Is your name Inosuke Hashibira?" you ask as calmly as ever, gently releasing him from the hold.

"Yeah, what's it to you?" he scowls under his mask. He doesn't know why he's so nervous around you but it's pissing him off.

"My name is (y/n), the ice Hashira," your smile has an unanticipated calming effect on inosuke, "it would seem we are soul mates"

he blushes at your giggle, still not understanding what a soul mate is. He looks at Tanjirou for help, who sighs.

It was going to be an agonising conversation. He drags the boar boy away, inosuke still staring at you as you wave them goodbye. He wouldn't admit that he missed you already.

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tanjiro kamado #tanjiro x reader #zenitsu x reader #inosuke x reader #demon slayer imagine #demon slayer fluff #kny #kny x reader

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rednite-dork · 1 day ago

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I'm back from the dead!

I had a rough end of the year - I finally graduated, we adopted a new cat and we moved back to my home town, so I held a small hiatus to gather up my strength lmao. But I saw this OTP meme floating around a few months ago and I wanted to do my own version of Sebastian and my MC!

More yapping about them below vvv

I had this laying on my files for a long while actually, but I was struggling with a song that I would put as a "theme song" - I usually don't practice those w my ships lol - but I heard Hozier's version of Do I Wanna Know a while ago and idk it really gave the vibe I was looking for them 🥰

I basically have two endings for them, one that's "fanon" where I can play sandbox with them and they'll have a happily ever after, and the "canon" ending that'll follow the upcoming games' lore (assuming the next games are direct sequels) - honestly I'm a sucker for the idea of them yearning for each other but unable to be together, and I can just imagine Seb possibly yearning for MC after the HL events and going to the HL sequel, he misses her and their little adventures and he kind of starts to romanticize things in his head and starts to have feelings for her - but him being too late to pursue her 🥲 and I feel like the theme song really captures the vibe of that idea!! can't wait to explore this more lmao

I also did some "graphology" specifically for this OTP meme, cause I like the idea of their personalities and quirks showing up from their handwriting, and here's what I have about them! I dunno if it's accurate or not, but hey, it's something, hope you like it anyways!

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow x mc #my art #this seems so incoherent but this is why I don't want to write a fanfic #I just word vomit and hope people understand the vibes lol #love my little guys

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court-jobi · 3 months ago

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Alexa, Play...

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's work OR the mindblowing art of @gsony24~used w permission))

Pairing: Midoriya x reader

Words: 1.6k

Rating: G~

Warnings: Southern US!GNreader, comfort fic, tooth-rotting fluff here y'all, established relationship, language barrier, dancing-in-the-kitchen level self-insert

Summary:

Izuku comes home to spot your grocery list on the fridge written out in your native language- something he sees just as rarely as hearing you speak it. Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek, a laugh thrown his way... or -like now- when you chat over the phone in an accent he never gets to hear. He wants to hear more so badly, and asks for it so sweetly.

A/N: a short n'sweet one today, folks, bc I was missing writing for this sweet green bean. I have yet to see MHA: You're Next, but have no one to see it with ughhhhh so off to writing fanfic to soothe the pain~

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on Ao3

You're on the phone with your mom when Izuku finds your sticky note for shopping on the fridge. His mindful shut of the door was appreciated by your mouthed apology, but let him know that he'd best occupy himself solo for a bit while you catch up. The time difference between your home country and here leaves your windows to chat limited, so he’s happy when your schedules align like this.

If you'll be on a while longer, he thinks he can take a quick drive and pick up these few things for you. Inspired by the idea, he plucks the list out from the magnet’s hold.

You've got nice handwriting, a blend between printed letters and a tilted, cursive script. Personality shines especially near the end of a word, when you're rushing to move onto the next thought.

Painter’s tape

bananas

white vinegar (stupid drain line)

It's so simple, but when it's written in your native language by default, it feels like a secret to be reading even something so simple as a list like this– scribbled out in the way as it appears in your head.

For most formal paperwork, your kana characters are decently executed, though it's always going to be harder when you grew up speaking Japanese rather than filling out lines and lines of bellwork in the kanji style. This isn't to say you've not been trying:

Over the course of your courtship, you've bonded with young Eri as an extension of Izuku's life and have inherited some of her early learning textbooks. You happened on them by accident, when you were helping her paint her room a few months ago. It sounded elementary when you expressed the interest to read and write Japanese better, and the sweet girl was so enthusiastic to help!

She lent you her books, but of course you weren't becoming an expert overnight. However slow you’d pace yourself, Izuku was plenty proud of you for making the effort. He'd allow you as much grace as he could spare– especially since your notes were still so cute to find here and there~

Across the room, pacing along every other tile on the floor like stepping stones, you look up catching Izuku staring. You’ve been deep in conversation for only about an hour, but give him a wrench of your nose in jest, and begin wrapping up the call explaining that he’s home and you’d like to greet him properly.

Izuku calls out a quick 'hi’ and ‘bye' to your mom when he motions to go on speaker; you're not one to refuse him, as he well knows.

You seem pleased on more than one front when he asks to talk to your family, so he continues to do it. For one, you’re touched by how spirited he is to even want to interact with your mother, and his dropping of formalities and reverting to English to speak to her means a lot to you. Neither point is lost on sweet Izuku, based on how your smile brightens when he jogs over to you to be more in speaking range.

When you hang up, you're quick to pop up and kiss him as a welcome home. Izuku hangs onto you a little longer than usual, thumb rubbing into your cheek as he savors you several times in quick succession.

Just when he thinks he couldn't possibly find you more adorable, you strike a match and chuck it into his heart with a touch as simple as a peck on his cheek or a laugh thrown his way.

“‘Zuku, what's that look for, babe?”

In your sentimental bliss, you're still surprised to get such adoring treatment from him almost a year into a relationship.

“Nothing,” Izuku chimes back, “I just forget that you're this American sometimes~”

“Whaddya mean, ‘you forget’?!” the concept sounds hilarious to you.

“I do!” Izuku offers to take your phone to plug it in nearby, “I have to remind myself that Japanese isn't your first language, until I see you on FaceTime with your mom. Out of nowhere, I'll just hear you sound so different, like: ‘byyyye~ talk to y'all later’!”

You snort at his attempt at a southern accent– stiff and stuck on the wrong vowels. Clearly this succeeds in amusing you, because you hop up and down on the balls of your feet like you've discovered a new game:

“Oh my God, ‘Texas Smash Deku’ is the stuff of my fantasies!– oo!! say, ‘I’d like a honey butter chicken biscuit’~”

“WHAT?? N-no!!”

“What YES!! Please??”

Both doubled over in laughter, you're entertained over his thorough embarrassment, but you're both smitten and carefree: holding onto each other despite nearly buckling at the knees.

Izuku tries his best to catch his breathe first, determined to explain himself,

“I can't do it right! It's like- you say things- I don't know how to describe it! It's not just the flat, movie star accent.. It's–"

“What, a-- ‘drawl’? ‘Twang’?”

Izuku snaps at the realization.

“Yes!! That!! The country kind, like that chef you watch!”

You've rolled your eyes, stepping out of his kind hold in favor of checking out what takeout he brought home.

“-Hey, no, come back!”

“‘Makin’ fun'ah my accent, I outta smack you’.”

You're far from really mad as you tote around the kitchen getting silverware and soy sauce, but Izuku follows you around like a shadow regardless. Eyes full of that puppy love, he does try to block you in from the pantry closet,

“I’m sorry, honey~”

“No you're not.” --but you're grinning out of forgiveness anyway.

Izuku sneaks a hold on you, reeling you in. It’s cozy in your shared kitchen, alight with just the right amount of overhead lighting and enough space for you two to stand and share tasks.

“I do like hearing you talk like that,” he shares contentedly, “It’s nice to listen to that side of you, especially when you have a lot to say.”

“Yeah well,” you turn into his arms, rather than away, “I'm sure you've noticed already, it comes from her side of the family. Guess I can't really ditch the accent whenever I switch back. The more I think about it… I'm gonna be happy if I can keep sounding like her as I get older. Lets me keep something of hers- even if my ‘dashing hero’ of a man over here thinks I'm being cheeky."

“No, I'm not teasing now! I mean it,” Izuku presses into you, “I only meant, you don't hold back or anything when you're chatty with her.”

He wonders if it stems from shyness, your avoidance of using too much English here at home. If you’re jamming out while doing chores -presuming you’re alone- you’ll switch the station once you know you have an audience.

“Not trying to hide it with you! I'm just out of practice here. No one else in our circle really uses English, so it doesn't come up, I guess.”

You make the point with a wistful aire. Occasionally you'll sub English classes as a favor to Izuku’s effervescent coworker at UA, but not often enough to get too much exposure. He's always been impressed with your Japanese diction, and thinks you could very well go into teaching if you ever wanted a career change.

Still, whether its for work or play, it’s a sound that’s intrinsically you, and there’s a magic to it that Izuku finds himself chasing. A secret power of yours, if he could only unlock it.

“--Plus, I don't think a lot of the slang translates over?” you get comfortable in his arms, locking your fingers behind his neck with no intention of leaving as you muse, “You guys have your own here, and that’s hard to figure out anyway.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

Tenderly, you run your nails through his hair, a thoughtful look up to him,

“Do you want me to use it more at home? Lay on the sugar for ya?”

A chance to hear you at your core? Watch your handwritten notes come alive?

“If you want-” Izuku softens, “-if you’re comfortable.”

“Can you understand me though?”

“I can hear you. It only gets hard when you get excited, ‘cuz you talk fast.”

You fuss back at him, “Oh, as if you don't.”

Caught under your hypocritical eye, he can only offer an honest chuckle back, “Fair~”

But for all of your feeling put on the spotlight, you seem to hold a soft spot for the way Izuku makes his requests:

“ ‘I guess I can indulge ya, since you asked so nicely.’ ”

–and it’s enough for him to try his hand to give you a linguistic sparring partner right back:

“ ‘Say something else.’ ”

All English flies out the window when he's looking at you like this, as you fall under a fit of nervous laughter, “What am I supposed to say?!”

“ ‘Sing me a song, my love. Something 'twangy'.”

You giggled, "'Twangy', good Lord…”

Izuku could write novels on everything from your finest features to even your most pensive insecurities, romanticizing each of them into a beautifully imperfect anthology. He does so in his mind, at least, when you’re barely lucid on the edge of sleep but still trying to engage him in meaningful conversation. He’ll do so in the notes on his phone, when he learns of yet another favorite token of yours, and wants to add it to the list of comfort measures he can refer to when you need it most.

And when you prompt Alexa to play your newly revealed ‘Karaoke hours that will never see the light of day’ playlist -the one that’s chock-full of female power ballads which you begin to sing your own rendition to- Izuku is certain his mind nor fingers nor heart can catalog how much more he can possibly love you… though he’ll dance in place with you as he listens and soaks it all in.

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