#and it turns out that he's definitely got the right teacher... if only the teacher weren't so ignorant

[dzvelinaskebiyars]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝗗𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻: @scareeemonstaah

Summary: Just Joker teaching reader how to fight. Cutesy fluff.

Tagging: @shintaru

Joker's room wasn't extraordinary or expensive, he didn't have many stuff either, just bed, wardrobe, chair, punching bag, curtains, lighting and plain walls. And yet, it was comfortable. So much that he had to bought cushion in his room for you due to how often you came over and stayed in his room.

Now, you were sitting in the same cushion like it was your personal throne and carefully observed how your boyfriend was training.

The sound of his fists punching the bag and his heavy pants reached your ears, your eyes fixated on the way his muscles flexed. Sweat rolled down his forehead but he immediately wiped it off, continuing to land relentless punches on the poor bag.

Now, you didn't know everything about boxing, you've never tried it. It's only when you started dating Hajun that you got to know more about this brutal sport. It was indeed brutal but the way Hajun moved, punched and perfomed was masterpiece that left you in awe. It peaked your curiosity, so why not give it a try?

"Hajun." You called out his name and he immediately stopped what he was doing, turning his full attention on you. "Can you teach me that?"

Your question caught him off guard. "Teach you...how to fight?" He questioned you to confirm you were saying what he thought you were saying.

You nodded your head, smiling sweetly at him. "Please?"

"Sure" he said and you wasted no time, walking towards him.

"So, how do we start, Oppa Teacher Hajun~¹?" You said teasingly but immediately shut up when Hajun stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back as he took your hands in his.

"First, make a fist.." He spoke and you followed his instructions. "Don't put your fingers over your thumb, you're likely to break it like that." He positioned your thumb over your fingers.

"O-Oh, really?" You awkwardly asked. It was hard to pay attention to his instructions when you felt his breath on your neck, feel his abs on your back...It was distracting, less to say.

"Yeah, if you'll tuck your thumb under your fingers and punch something, all the impact will go to your thumb so eventually it'll get injured." He passionately explained, even if he wasn't sure how to teach you exactly. Joker definitely wasn't good teacher or at least he believed so. But so far, he was doing good job. Maybe it's because he's passionate about what he currently teaches.

"Alright," You nodded. "and for punching, I just needs to swing, right?" You threw your head back a bit to look up at him, unaware of the way he gulped at that act, his cheeks even got slightly pink.

"Not really. You need right technique for that." He spoke, lifting your fists up to your jaw. "Jaw must be always protected."

"But I have never seen you protecting your jaw like this?"

"That's because most people can't even reach it."

You couldn't help but sniffle a laugh at that. He surely was tall, it's no wonder average guy in Korea wouldn't be much in height compared to him.

Putting that aside, you continued listening to him. He was putting so much effort in demonstrating techniques and explaining them, gently and patiently, it made your heart warm. And he was being so passionate about it too, it's cute. He might not have noticed it but he always tend to talk more when it comes to his interests and you love listening to him every single time.

It's rare to see Hajun like this; eyes softened, body relaxed, his cheeks pink, more talkative...He looked so carefree and comfortable right now.

He showed you yet another technique on how to punch properly. "Like this and like this then like this....Get it?"

"Um..." You hesitated before nodding. "You just swing the arm, right...?" You asked, your voice getting quieter each word that left your mouth.

"No. I mean, yes. But no-" he didn't even finish it upon realizing that he couldn't explain it. So he stood in front of you now, taking your fists in his hand and positioning them correctly. "When you swing..." He guided your arm, straightening it to imitate punching process. "You need right technique for it. It won't be impactful otherwise." He then run his finger over your knuckles, making you stop breathing for a second. "Your knuckles should be the ones meeting the target, instead of your fingers. And you don't have to clench your fist tight for it to be painful." He added, hinting that you should relax your fist a little.

You relaxed your fingers like he told you, then looked up at him with expectations. He continued explaining and demonstrating as much as he could until you said you got it and stood in front of punching bag.

Placing your arms like he taught you, you punched the bag few times. The first thing that caught your attention was how heavy punching bag was. It's incredible that Hajun practices on it every day, no wonder his knuckles get bruised...

When the bag almost hit you in the face, you dodged it but then Hajun stopped it himself. "So, wasn't I good now?" You asked him.

His soft gaze landed on your happy expression and for a moment he remained silent before his lips curled up in faint smile. "Yeah, good job."

You blinked at him in surprise, once, twice before giggling. "You should smile more often, Hajun-ssaem²~"

"Don't--"

"I'm joking, I'm joking. I'll go back to calling you nae sek-shi-nam³ then." You sheepishly smiled.

"...you're going to be the death of me."

1 - Teacher Oppa/Oppa teacher can be used to call your teacher in flirty or playful manner.

2 - ssaem is casual and affectionate way to say "teacher" in Korean.

3 - nae sek-shi-nam means "my sexy man" 😭

[reijisteacup]

Hai, I once sent an ask about another bride coming along with yui but I forgot to mention one detail

How would the s boys react if they both would gossip about their classmates, especially in the limo in front of them, not caring if they listen or not like just ignoring them and gossiping? Like the other bride would legit come inside the limo, sit next to yui and then start spilling the tea about every crazy things that happened at school and about their classmates.

Oh the drama we love the diadivasss <3

================================================================================================

Sakamaki's

Shu Sakamaki:

Shu’s pretending to sleep. AirPods in. Ignoring everything. “And then Sensei said he used to play violin professionally—” “He quit after his wife cheated on him with the choir teacher!” Shu opens one eye. “...Hmph. Idiot should’ve known better than to fall in love.” Then shuts it again. But they’ve got him. He’s listening now. Silently judging every classmate like the cryptid king he is. Sometimes throws in a savage one-liner that stuns both girls. “Wait, how did you know Makoto has foot pics online?” “...You can tell. His face screams it.”

Reiji Sakamaki:

Reiji is mentally uninstalling the concept of “teenage girls” from the universe. He’s glaring out the window with that strained smile of someone who just heard the word “slay” used non-ironically 14 times. “And THEN she said, ‘It’s giving... single father on a bender.’” “OH MY GOD—” Reiji slowly turns his head, “How is it that both of you possess mouths yet lack a single useful thought between them?” They ignore him again. Fatal mistake. He clears his throat, “If you insist on vomiting meaningless nonsense in my presence, kindly do it without breathing oxygen I require.” They giggle harder. He pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s this close to kicking them out

Laito Sakamaki:

Laito’s chilling with his hat over his eyes, smirking. “Mmm~ how scandalous, Bitch-chan. I didn’t know you were such a gossip~” Then Yui says, “Did you hear about Yamada and what happened behind the gym?!” and Laito sits up. “Ehh~? And here I thought I was the star of your dirty little stories.” They keep going. Ignore him completely. “...Hellooo~? Bitch-chan~? Don’t I get to hear the juicy bits? Or be the juicy bit?” Still no response. He sulks like a cat ignored by its owner. “Fiiine~ but next time you’re bored at school, don’t come crying to me~ hmph.”

Kanato Sakamaki:

Yui and the bride sit down and launch into, “You will not believe what Saori wore to gym class—” “Wait, was it the cheetah print—?!” Kanato blinks. Once. Twice. “Shut. Up.” They don’t even look at him. “Teddy and I do not care what some worthless girl wore to gym class!” Still ignored. Suddenly, Teddy is hurled across the limo. “STOP TALKING OR I’LL RIP HER UGLY SKIRT OFF MYSELF!” Kanato hates being ignored. He hates being left out. And he definitely hates Yui laughing at someone else’s drama. Cue screaming. Possibly a window breaking. Only stops when Yui pats his head and says, “Fine, fine, we’ll tell you too, Kanato-kun~”

Ayato Sakamaki:

At first, he tries to pretend he’s unbothered, leaning back with his legs spread like a king. But after hearing ten straight minutes of, “And then, he tripped, and his entire toupee flew across the class—” “STOP! NOT HIS TOUPEE—” He’s had ENOUGH. Ayato slams his foot on the floor. “Oi, Chichinashi! Why are you talkin’ about some ugly four-eyes when I’m sitting right here?!” When they ignore him and keep gossiping, he full-on leans between them, desperate for attention. “Tch! You two hens squawkin’ like this is a beauty salon or somethin’—HEY, ARE YOU LAUGHING?!” He either inserts himself aggressively or pouts in the corner with crossed arms like a sulky dog.

Subaru Sakamaki:

Subaru’s in the corner, arms crossed, trying desperately not to listen… but he’s hearing everything. “—and then she moaned by accident during the fire drill—” “NOOOOOOO—” His ears turn red. “Tch! Do you have to be so damn loud?!” They ignore him. “And then Takahashi said he’d rather date a vending machine—” “HONESTLY, SAME.” He slams his fist on the seat. “I SAID SHUT UP!” But five minutes later, he’s leaning in slightly. Quiet. Curious. “Wait… which Takahashi…?” They smirk. He’s invested now.

Mukami's

Ruki Mukami:

At first, he tries to tolerate it. He thinks it’s harmless. But after the fourth “OH MY GOD she totally cheated during the group project—” he just shuts down. He snaps his book shut. Looks Yui dead in the eye. “Livestock. If I cared to know what your classmates were doing, I would read a diary penned by narcissists and morons.” She keeps going. “And then she got caught making out behind the school nurse’s office!” He’s staring into the void now. Contemplating whether strangling himself with his tie would be more dignified than listening to this. Eventually, he says, “I will be deducting five reading hours from your week for every new story I hear.” “Okay but wait—Yamada was wearing fuzzy purple Crocs with the school uniform—” visibly glitching

Kou Mukami:

Kou is offended that he's not the center of attention. “Ehh~? Yui-chan, why are you talking about some nobody from school when I’m right here~?” But once they drop something juicy, like: “You didn’t hear?! She got a secret nose job over summer break!” Kou goes, “WAIT, WHAAAAT~?! No way! Her nose was always giving ‘unfiltered raisin’! "Immediately scoots closer, wide-eyed. Pulls out his phone. “Do we have before-and-after pics?! Show me! No, seriously, show me!!” He’s so into it that even Ruki sighs, “Kou. You are making it worse.” “I’m not gossiping. I’m just... studying my competition~"

Yuma Mukami:

At first, “Tch. Why the hell are ya talkin’ ‘bout all this dumb crap? Who cares if some chick got her skirt stuck in the escalator?” Then he hears, “...And then she cried because her fake lashes fell off in the rain!” And Yuma dies laughing. “BWAH! Her fake lashes?! Man, that’s karma right there!” Now he’s in it. He’s shouting from the backseat, “Yo, what’s the tea on that rich girl with the poodle bag? The one who tried to fight a vending machine last week?” He doesn’t realize he’s gossiping with them now. And when the other brothers point it out, he gets flustered. “I ain’t gossipin’! I’m just sayin’! Ain’t nothin’ wrong with knowin’ your enemies!” (He totally is. Yuma is a girl's girl)

Azusa Mukami:

Azusa is just sitting there. Blinking. Holding his hands in his lap. “...And THEN she said she was in a love triangle with her homeroom teacher and the soccer captain—” “...What’s... a triangle of love...?” They try to explain it to him but it makes it worse. “So... she’s in pain...? But... she caused it...? That’s... beautiful…” Now he’s making it a psychological metaphor and everyone else is scared. “Bro, it’s not that deep.” “But... pain always is…”

Tsukinami's

Carla Tsukinami:

Carla is giving full “I have lived for millennia and this is my punishment” energy. “And then he rejected her in front of the entire cafeteria!” “LIKE HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE IT OVER TEXT???” Carla would be sipping his wine. “If I turned every insolent fool in your school into ash, would it silence you?” They ignore him and keep going. He closes his eyes and murmurs, “...You speak of creatures as if they matter. None of them will survive the next 100 years. “Exactly! And that’s why she should’ve just hooked up with him for fun!” Carla’s eye twitches. If it weren’t for his weird, reluctant affection toward Yui, he would have already opened a wormhole just to escape this dimension.

Shin Tsukinami:

At first? Shin’s living for the gossip. Legs sprawled out, fangs flashing, laughing his ass off. “And THEN her eyebrow pencil broke mid-argument—” “DID SHE FIGHT WITH NO EYEBROWS?!” “HAHAHA—SHE WENT TO WAR BARE-FACED?! BRUTAL.” But then… “Also, Shin-kun, one of the girls from Class A said she’d totally let him bite her.” The smile drops. “...Who?” “Why? You wanna bite her?” “No. I want her head on a stick.” “Wow, you really are territorial.” “Say another word and I’ll mark you too. So now the limo is full of petty divine rage and territorial wolf energy because some girl said she liked him.

[gofancyninjaworld]

OPM Manga Update 233 Review: Evaluation

I had initially postponed writing this until the next chapter, but I've come to realise I have so much meta to write that it's best I do each chapter individually.

Summary because it's been a moment

The first part of the chapter is set in the mountains above City G where the Council of Swordmasters is based. At their building, the three disciples are reviewing what they've been able to unearth about Sweet Mask. It's precious little, with nothing available before his signing up as a hero. Iaian surmises that this fits in with the information that Bushidrill has been able to uncover on Amai's shifting appearance. They consider that the shape-shifting could be a special power, but in light of his behaviour towards Do-S's hostages, was much more likely a sign of progressive monsterization. Iaian expands on it by recounting what he'd seen of Sweet Mask at the surface when he'd seen a monster struggling to keep its humanity. With surprising empathy, Iaian states that it's often those who've lost something who know its true value. They decide to keep a careful eye on Sweet Mask but say nothing to Atomic for now. Okamaitachi hopes that they end up glad to have kept Sweet Mask's hands clean.

Elsewhere, we see Kamikaze (it is not right to call him Atomic Samurai in this context) and Nichirin paying their respects at a shrine dedicated to successive generations of the Swordmasters. They are accompanied by two young people, here to take the places of the slain Swordmasters. We are treated to Yuta's thoughts of hunting down whatever remains of the Monster Association. Nichirin apologises to the pair to say that if he'd been stronger -- but Shido cuts him short. His father lived by the sword, after all, and falling in battle was an honourable death. Besides, as a bodyguard, seeing Nichirin alive would have pleased him.

Speaking of that, given how gravely Nichirin had been injured, it naturally leads to Kamikaze asking after the old man's health. Nichirin sits on the ground and hitches his robes up to show a pair of cybernetic legs. His entire lower half is now mechanical and he's apparently no worse off for it [Aside: I guess the doctors who butchered Air back in Chapter 182 weren't joking about Metal Knight's skill in cyborg medicine].

He stands up, and, declaring that circulating one's chi through body and weapons made them part of a whole -- artificial bodies included -- unsheathes his sword and slices at an apple that he tossed into the air. The apple is apparently unharmed, but the cliff face in the background is cleaved. The apple falls to the ground, and Shido and Yuta marvel at the accuracy of the old man's cutting the cliff but sparing the apple. Nichirin states that he did cut the apple as well. Kamikaze picks up the apple and explains that this is Nichirin's special technique: it's so fast and finally that the Apple rejoined itself, apparently unharmed. He is relieved the old man is his usual self.

It's now Nichirin's turn to ask him a question. Now that his rival Bang has retired, will Kamikaze stay at the Hero Association? Kamikaze looks wistful for a moment as he recalls himself leading the charge to take down Psykos-Orochi. He says that, indeed, he'd initially gone only to challenge himself, but now he had experienced something that he couldn't get anywhere else. Besides, he still had one more person whose strength he needed to fathom -- we are shown that it is King. He'd decide after then.

As he takes his leave, Nichirin thinks that Kamikaze has changed. Being thrown among a variety of strong fighters with vastly different strengths had broadened his mind. Maybe being a hero wasn't so bad after all. He says that last part out loud to Yuta's puzzlement.

We cut to the hero Association and to Saitama and Genos approaching it. Inside, Forte is putting the finishing touches to a dog house Black Sperm is disgusted, but shelter and food, even if it is only dog food, are what he needs right now, at least until he rebuilds his cell count. Saitama and Genos heave into view and Forte greets them. Black Sperm rushes behind the dog house in well-justified fear. His life wouldn't be worth a scrap of cigarette ash if Genos caught sight of him. Fortunately, Genos is a bit distracted, first by the dog's name, then by the news that Forte lives next door to Saitama. He wastes no time in evicting Forte.

I have a feeling the dog is going to be trouble

Finally, we're in the M-City branch of Mouse Sushi, the cheap rotating sushi place with the infamous nasty t-shirts Saitama loves. Atomic Samurai is there with his disciples, having paid a futile visit to King's residence. There's only one problem with this place: someone keeps taking every plate they have their eye on. After the fatty tuna plate is taken, Atomic stands up to confront the person only to find that is King. The chapter ends with Atomic standing over an anxious King and asking if he could talk to him for a few minutes.

Whew, if you think this is meaty, wait until we get to the meta. Grab a drink!

Meta

I really struggled with thinking where to even begin with this one. Well, let's take it like a hot bowl of soup, start on the outside and work our way in.

The Real Kaijin Shows Up

Small things first. It's hilarious that Genos invokes more fear than the actual monsters do at Saitama's residence. Surprising that he's been visiting Saitama for a while but has never run across Saitama's neighbours or pets until now. You'd think that Saitama had brought home a tiger. As if he were extolling how the beast is still barely half-grown and tame, and all everyone else could see is how it's already the size of a large fridge with cruelly-curved claws longer than one's fingers and fangs sturdy enough to bite through one's skull. Forte may know not to mess with Saitama but he's so aware of Genos's capacity to do actual violence to him that the latter doesn't even need to breathe a word of threat to commandeer his house.

the really big dogs don't need to growl

Don't Panic, It's Just A Monster

I love thus story: people are not blind or stupid. It's hard to keep secrets when someone takes an interest. The disciples are on Amai Mask's trail, and while they're fairly certain that they've uncovered a monster hiding as a human being, the circumspection and nuance they're showing is remarkable.

Despite their misgivings, they're prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt and see him more as a person struggling to retain his humanity than as a monster biding its time to strike. In this, Iaian leans towards the former interpretation, while Bushidrill would rather err on the side of caution. Okamaitacchi is in the middle but is of the mind that this is a fluid situation that could go either way.

It's really neat that what was once a one-off gag, with Iaian telling Meltzegard that he could read the latter's murderous intent, has been repeatedly revisited ad deepened in the course of the story to create what is a wise and sympathetic response to a potentially dangerous situation. The disciples aren't blind to the danger of a monstrous hero, but because they can read intentions, they're willing to be heroes to the core and risk reaching out a helping hand to a struggling person.

Iaian's taking a risk in hoping there's a person in Amai who can be saved. But what else is a hero about?

Decisions and Inspirations

So, what will you do, Kamikaze? Had Nichirin died, what he'd have had to do would have been simple. As the new head of the Council of Swordmasters, Atomic would have had to resign as a hero and raise up a new generation. Thankfully, he's been spared that.

It's refreshing to get more insight into Atomic's character and find that he's been looking for both a source of challenge and inspiration in his life. Bang had certainly provided both while he'd been a fellow pro-hero. However, Atomic deciding to lead a charge to the very skies rather than stand on his pride and be an old man shouting impotently at the battle raging overhead had been a revelation. Terrible as the Monster Association showdown had been, it had also been a peak experience unlike any he could have imagined. He's hooked. [Since this is so late, Child Emperor's suggestions of a specialist dragon-slaying team would have found in Atomic an enthusiastic sponsor]. But he still wants a rival, so off he is to challenge King.

a new fire has been lit in this guy who thought he understood everything

Coming to Nichirin, I have three things to say:

A: Words Are Best Eaten Cold, With Salt

Despite having a disciple working as a hero (Spring Mustachio), Nichirin hasn't thought too highly of heroes. Depending on the translation, he'd called them hunters... or pest controllers. It's nice to see that he's had to eat his words.

I hope those words are tasty

B: The Old Lie

'Dolce et decorum est pro patria mori' . I don't blame Shido for clinging onto a view of his father bravely laying down his life. He needs all the comfort he can get.

We know the truth. Zambai was not felled by a superior foe but by a sentient barf bag spitting in his face.

Amahare's desecrated remains were so fragmentary that his coffin needed only a single pallbearer. A cruel duty indeed for Yuta to perform.

Nor can we forget Spring Mustachio fighting desperately to stop Nichirin's transected body from being burned, then Fubuki frantically keeping him alive, his guts kept from spilling out by what had been Genos's precious designer jacket.

a tableau of horror

This had been an actual conflict, not a carefully-managed test of skill vulgarly called a 'fight', and there was nothing sweet, fitting, nor fair about it.

C: Sword and Spirit

AND NOW FOR THE PART I'VE BEEN WAITING FOREVER FOR! Forever being from December 2017. It also ties into more recent chapters. The border between living and non-living has always been a bit porous in One-Punch Man and it's amazing to watch Nichirin make no distinction between his biological body, his sword, and his prostheses to forge a whole that is much greater than the sum of its parts. Once again, it comes down to spirit and willpower.

Had Genos witnessed this, he'd have asked Saitama for a leave of absence to study under Nichirin. This is the missing part that has been nagging at him, the question he'd asked Saitama about whether his parts truly made him stronger, to which Saitama had had no answer. Heck, just being able to observe Nichirin would have been profoundly inspirational for Genos.

ONE, however, is not in the business of giving Genos anything cheaply. No, on current headings, he's going to have to work it out for himself. Indeed, he accidentally and instinctively touched on the answer when he seamlessly rejoined himself after being bitten in two by Elder Centipede. He didn't think about what he was doing then: he was just totally determined not to be dismissed by that miserable worm. [It goes without saying that Kuseno did not get a distress call, nor brave monsters to see what the fuck was going on for himself because of a mere broken leg and some loosened plates of armour.]

Before and after: plates laid on a bias rejoining so perfectly there's no damage to see. And all the internals are fine too. Black magic shit that got the old engineer out of bed to do a field inspection.

Come to that, Saitama does know about the importance of will but does not know it consciously. Yet another gag that has become very much not a gag is that any object Saitama holds that he does not want to break becomes unbreakable. Cheap store-bought chopsticks catch a falling man -- and his clothes, in turn, don't give way. They become an extension of Saitama, like Nichirin's sword does of himself. Speaking of swords, it's notable that when Atomic Samurai managed to draw the sun blade, it was impossible to tell where the man ended and the sword began. Saitama just has no idea that that's what he's doing, so he can't teach it to his increasingly frustrated disciple.

the same principle, played very differently, but each in a life-or-death situation

And like that, another piece of the puzzle of the power scheme of OPM has been shown to us. No one character has the whole picture. We will hopefully get to piece it together by the end, and we hope that the right characters understand it well enough at the right time to make for good outcomes.

Next chapter review will be much shorter!

[meowdei]

Sukuna who was never close to his twin brother and never cared about the pipsqueak runt of a kid who’s his nephew.

He doesn’t care and doesn’t want to be associated with that bullshit. His brother doesn’t take the hint ever and invites him to everything. “My sons’s birthday party” this and “my son’s kindergarten graduation” that. What sort of graduation is meant for a kindergartener anyway? That’s a load of nonsense. But Jin is as annoying as ever with insisting on keeping contact and trying to get Sukuna involved and he hates it until by some tragedy out of nowhere, his brother and sister and law are dead. Yuuji’s left an orphan and no one can care for that kid because there’s no one left.

No one except Sukuna.

They ask him, too. The social workers. They turn to him and say some pitiful script about being “the only family left to take custody of him.” He knows pretty well what’s going to happen to the pipsqueak if he doesn’t agree. The foster care system and the possible horrors such a bright (even if annoying) kid could face makes him question saying no for a second. He’s surprisingly conflicted.

And it’s out of sheer impulsiveness alone does he end up as a single, grumpy, begrudging uncle who’s got custody of a child he never really cared to know in the first place.

And then he meets you.

Sweet, bubbly, warm, and so weirdly happy. Dictionary definition of what an elementary school teacher should be. Yuuji’s absolute favorite person on the planet as he waves hello at you enthusiastically every time that Sukuna drops him off and goodbye every time that Sukuna picks him up.

“I heard his new guardian would be his uncle. It’s nice to meet you,” you murmur to him the first day he picks up Yuuji after school, a look of pure melancholy on your face as you stare at him with an unearthly amount of compassion and sympathy. “Yuuji’s parents were wonderful people. I’m really sorry for your loss.”

“Wasn’t that close with either of them,” he grunts out. You look over at where Yuuji’s gleefully playing on the slide of the playground. Too young and innocent to realize that’s been ripped away from him. Too naive to understand what it means to grieve. Too hopeful about the world around him to realize just how cruel it can really be.

“Oh,” you murmur, nodding slowly.

He thinks that your unnaturally kind demeanor will finally be broken for a split second of judgement. What sort of heartless bastard doesn’t feel an ounce of grief for his own brother’s death? Instead, however, you seem to look at him with some weird sense of wonder.

“You’re a good uncle for stepping up regardless,” you say softly, “it’s more than what most would do in your shoes.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he clicks his teeth, unbearably uncomfortable with how weirdly sentimental this all is. “He’s just a five year old. How much trouble could he be?”

You raise a brow in amusement, eyeing him like he’s got one hell of a surprise waiting for him. He doesn’t like the vague way you hum, “Yeah. How could such a little human cause trouble, right?”

“I’ve got it under control,” he grumbles, a little annoyed that you seem to think that out of all things, a simple child would be enough to cause Sukuna any issues.

“Let me know if you need anything,” you smile.

Yuuji calls to you from the distance, squealing look what I can do! before he does a rather clumsy spin. Sukuna raises an unimpressed brow. You clap and praise him with an exaggerated gasp of approval.

It’s oddly endearing, he thinks to himself—you, not the kid. The kid’s barely tolerable.

“C’mon, you brat,” Sukuna calls. And then he looks at you and gruffly adds, “And I don’t need help.”

“Okay,” you grin brightly. It almost feels like you’re saying that a little sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ve got this parent thing down.”

Before he can even correct you that he’s an uncle, not parent, Yuuji comes running over on clumsy, short little legs and grabs onto Sukuna’s hand.

“C’mon, Uncle ‘Kuna!”

Sukuna doesn’t miss the way your eyes soften. Weirdly enough, he feels this odd sort of squeeze in his chest that doesn’t make any sense. Maybe he’s just getting old—that has to be it.

[chuluoyi]

fear

- gojo satoru x reader

his best friend’s defection is still a hard topic for him to swallow, and it leads into an unexpected argument that spurs you to leave, only to unlock a new fear in him when you get into an unfortunate accident afterwards.

genre/warnings: angst, gojo being mean, one scene with a worried nanami *wink*, injured reader, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end

notes: *sigh* my coping mechanism is still gojo’s past arc, which is why this piece takes place on that timeline. just a little context: reader is in the same class with nanami & haibara and was in the same mission that took haibara's life. this is probably the longest oneshot i've written so far sooo… enjoy! :)

general masterlist

A year and a half had passed since Suguru embarked on his path as a curse user. In that one year and a half, Satoru had finished his last year at Jujutsu High, and now was in the halls of his alma mater, speaking to the newly appointed headmaster who was none other than his teacher.

"You're applying to become a teacher?" Yaga asked again with a frown. He still couldn't wrap his head around it. Granted, he was his most troublesome pupil. "Why, Satoru?"

"If I said it's because I want to train young sorcerers to be strong, would you believe me?"

That was not a lie. It was actually 50% of his main reasons anyway. The other 50% was to repent what he missed with Suguru when he chose his dark path—his contempt with the current system of this jujutsu world.

"I would," Yaga responded gruffly. To him, Satoru was irritating, but he also knew that he was also extremely capable, and thus everything he did wasn't just out of nowhere. "But you still have to submit your applications. We can't make an exception even if you come from a prestigious clan."

"That's fine with me," he grinned. "Thanks, sensei."

On summer days, he'd get reminded of Suguru and silly things they had done together. Eating shaved ice, cycling together, driving either you, Shoko or Nanami mad. Satoru missed those days, it hadn't been the same ever since. Not knowing if his best friend was alright—if he was still alive at all—was exhausting.

Sometimes, he felt like he was the only one who was affected by his departure, the only one who stayed right where Suguru left him. Shoko didn't seem ruffled, if anything she just went to more bars and pachinko parlors as of late. Nanami was always a recluse, he never disclosed his feelings. You mourned him, but it was clear that most part of you would always be more focused on Haibara's death.

Satoru understood that he couldn't force anyone to feel what he felt, and he had no right to. But sometimes, he just wanted someone to connect with at his level. Someone to get him just like Suguru did.

And so when he got back to his condo that night—just right next to the one he rented for Megumi and Tsumiki, since he had moved out of his dorm—to find his girlfriend there with a big smile and a tray of cupcakes, unaware of everything and anything, he merely scoffed to himself.

"Satoru, you're back," you acknowledged, beaming like the sunshine you were. "I just baked these for the kids. Do you want some?"

Usually he'd smother you, throw some pickup lines here and there and say yes, but today, he just felt drained. "No." And with that, he stalked away to the bathroom, not glancing back at you.

It was wrong. But tonight he just wanted some peace and quiet, and so keeping his silence seemed to be the best choice as he didn't want to start a pointless argument with you. But you weren’t anything but observant, and definitely noticed that something was amiss with him.

"Are you... alright?" You approached him warily after he came out of the bathroom with wet hair. "Where were you today?"

"Just somewhere," he replied curtly. Afterwards he turned on the hairdryer, drowning the whole place with the noise even as you stood behind him with a visible question mark.

But you were still there after he dried his hair. "Is something bothering you?" you asked with a tilt of your head, concerned. By all means, you mean well. You just wanted to know if he could use your help at all.

When you pulled that expression, he couldn't help feeling annoyed, like he wanted you to take a hint, but you just didn't. "If you know, then just shut it."

It was probably the first time since the two of you got together that Satoru actually said something harsh. But you still tried to be reasonable though, bless you.

"Satoru, I don't know what got into your nerves like this, but I think sleeping through it might help. Have a rest."

"Why are you talking as if you know it?" he snapped, finally turning to you with his cold gaze. "You might not know anything, so don't be a know-it-all. Just mind your own business."

Now you were frustrated with his reply. "Once again, I don't know what happened to you. But if you're taking it out on me because I'm the closest you have—"

"Who said that?" Satoru didn't know where he got all this venom from. It was just at the forefront of his mind and he just got the urge to spew it. "You're considering yourself closest to me? Where did you get that big head from?"

You were aghast, and you blinked a few times to get your bearings. "Let me guess, it's about Geto-san, isn't it? Or the higher ups. Either of that must be what causing you to blindly place your anger on me."

"So what if it was? It isn't like you'll understand anyway."

"Satoru," you started, trying to even your breathing. "What happened to Geto-san isn't your fault. I've been telling you this. It can't be helped—"

"Can't be helped?" he jeered. "Do you know why it has come to this?" his tone took a dangerous edge as he stepped closer. He reached for you, grasping your wrist.

"Maybe because I was too blind back then. If it weren't for you—if only I didn't spend that much time on you, maybe he would still be here."

Did he just say that? Did he just imply that he had regretted the two of you getting together?

You felt your lower lip start to tremble and something seemed to obscure and blur your vision, making it hard to see him clearly. "You... don't mean that."

"Really?" the corner of his lips curled into a disparaging smile. "You never know. Before you know it, this can be over already. After all, I could have anyone out there that I want. Maybe someone less nosey than—”

That did it. You wrenched your arm out of his grip violently, as your first tear fell. His smirk vanished too, replaced with a total stillness to cover his sudden panic that was followed by a sudden sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"You selfish, self-obsessed jerk," you hissed through watery eyes. He was taken aback, even amidst your anger and possible fear of him, your still managed to throw daggers at him. "Fine. You have it. I'll see myself out."

Satoru never wanted you to leave. Honestly, he would've made you stay. But he wasn't in the right state of mind and it was too late to take back what he said. He didn't want to mess this up even further.

You left the cupcakes, even throwing it away just to spite him. Driven by pain and humiliation, you choked back your sob and didn't spare a glance at him as you shut the door.

Peace and quiet. There he had it, he thought as he clenched his fists, at the cost of everything else.

Leaving that condo, every step you took felt like needles piercing your shattered heart. You wiped your tears roughly. No, you refused to cry over such asshole. He made it clear, didn't he? Whatever it was that you two shared, it was at the cost of his best friend leaving him. So now the blame was on you.

If you were thinking clearly, you would've understood that his words were likely a result of his own pent-up pain and frustration that he had kept to himself for some while. But you had no patience for that or even pinpoint what you felt right now—anger, disappointment or dread, or perhaps all three. You just felt wrongly accused.

Your feet brought you back to your dorm in the school. Now it wasn't as bustling as it once were. After Satoru and Shoko's graduation, you didn't really get close to anyone. There was Ichiji, but he treated you more like a mentor rather than a classmate.

As you sank into the comforts of your bed, You replayed the events, trying to find where it went wrong—and found nothing. After all, you had already said all that could be said. It wasn't just him who lost Geto, but you, Shoko and Nanami did too, but it was more convenient for Satoru to blame everyone else rather than trying to understand that they too shared this pain.

Nevertheless, you were disappointed. You didn't expect half of what he spouted, and it got you doubting everything you had.

"You've royally fucked up."

Satoru exhaled, glaring at Shoko through the corner of his eyes. "Yeah, maybe."

The reverse cursed technique user threw him a blank stare, taking in everything from his disheveled hair to his wrinkled trousers. "Gojo, as much as I can’t care less about your sorry ass, I'm saying this not out of concern for you, but rather for Y/N. You are an asshole."

The puff of smoke she blew expanded to create a cloud-like shape. "Yaga-sensei was our teacher. His student is now a mass murderer and wanted dead. Can you even imagine how he feels? And I can't believe I'm saying this—but weren't there three of us?"

A week had gone by and instead of doing the right thing like trying to get into your good graces, Satoru was in Shoko's infirmary in the headquarters instead. He didn't exactly know what he was looking for by going here. Maybe some lingering taste of his happier student days, and Shoko was the only one remaining.

Three of us, huh... she was right. That was precisely why he came here after all.

"You're just sulking because it seems no one cares about your best friend being the best there is. But have you thought about how our juniors also lost Haibara? Right in front of their eyes? Haibara was our friend too."

He was wrong, of course he was. Satoru realized that now. But it felt wrong to ask for your forgiveness now, not to mention the disrupting thought he had—should he let you go for good altogether?

The phone suddenly rang with such fervor that made Shoko utter a swear word. She was on call duty for the rescue team today, and it was supposedly a peaceful day until Satoru decided to barge in to become her company. "Hello? Ichiji? What—speak clearly, I can't hear you."

She switched it to loudspeaker. "...iri-san! Ieiri-san—h-help—please—"

It was noisy, and blaring at the same time, and Ichiji was... Sobbing? Choking? His voice was terribly muffled and—

"L/N-san!" he cried, and Satoru remembered at that moment that you should be in a mission with Ichiji, he remembered you telling him before.

"Hic—s-she fell... hic—she fell! B-blood! She i-is bleeding so much! I-Ieiri-san—hic—s-send help! Please!"

"Hey, stay awake. Breathe. Just breathe."

Everything hurt. Most notably, your head. You could hardly think straight when all you felt was blinding pain and how your breaths came in short wheezes. 

Your vision was blurry. The numbness had started to set in and chills ran up and down your spine. You couldn't make out who in front of you was. Was it Ichiji, who went with you in this mission? The only thing that glared was blue.

"You can't sleep, you hear me?" the voice was commanding, willing you to do his bidding. It was familiar, but usually his tone of voice was much lighter, happier.

Satoru.

But why was he here? He wasn't in this mission. It was supposed to be a mission for you and Ichiji.

You remembered getting the cursed spirit after manifesting your domain expansion, until in its last ditch attempt, it went after Ichiji. You had no choice—even when your cursed energy had burned out, you still shoved him away at the cost of being flung from the top of a building.

Not again. Not after Haibara. You’d gladly pay the price if it meant you didn't have to see anyone die in front of you again.

"I..." You managed to croak out—breathing hurt, and you felt your hands being grasped tightly.

"Hey, just breathe. Y/N. Look at me.” Through your blurry haze, you focused on that cold blue, and you saw him. Satoru's sharp eyes, pursed lips and frown. He's really here.

Satoru always said that if there was a cursed spirit apocalypse, then Ichiji would be the first to die. You used to scold him for that, but now as you a laid here possibly dying in your own pool of blood, you found it to be true.

Yet at the same time you knew that with him here, Ichiji must be safe already, and it gave you reassurance so great even when you were on the verge of dying. "I... can't..."

"Yes, you can. Just look at me," he firmly rebuked, his voice came out in a hiss. For all the time you had been with him, you had never heard him so forceful. "If you close your eyes now, I won't forgive you. So please, just hang in there."

It was a struggle to take in any air and darkness encroached on your vision as your consciousness began slipping away.

And everything faded to nothingness.

Satoru honestly thought he had no fears. His worst fear had fully realized after all—Suguru going away into the darkness. What more could he possibly fear?

But when he heard Ichiji's distress call for rescue team, about how you fell from a rooftop of a building and unconscious, he realized that it was a fear he didn't know existed. His mind got disoriented and he teleported to the scene on impulse. He just had to see it for himself. With their petty argument still lacking closure, he felt even worse.

And the sight before him gave him so much fright he never thought was possible.

It was a mistake, he should have brought Shoko along.

You had laid there like a broken doll, your eyes dimmed, and not been able to breathe. He desperately tried to keep you awake, his presence beside you, yet it didn't seem to matter. He watched helplessly as you passed out in his arms.

Satoru felt nothing. The panic that had set in was suddenly gone as your limp body slumped against him, replaced by incessant ringing in his ears and tremor wracking his nervous system. It wasn't long until the rescue team came to retrieve you and even then he still felt numb. He rejected the idea that you might possibly die on him.

That went on until Shoko, who assisted in the emergency treatment, came out of the surgery, sweat on her forehead.

"It's even worse than the aftermath of the guardian deity mission last year," Shoko explained with a grim expression. "Her brain has sustained damage and it affects everything. It may take her quite a while before she can go back to the field."

When she said that, Satoru felt terror washed over him again. You almost died—was all he perceived.

The two of you had no contact for a week just because of his ego. He could still recall that day with vivid clarity, feeling a burning ache in his chest. If someone were to ask him what heartbreak was like, now he certainly would he able the to tell them the two instances in which he experienced them. What he felt now mirrored the same stinging sensation he had felt when Suguru left him.

He visited you when he was allowed to, and you were still unconscious, with many machines connected to your body. It was a sight he still couldn’t bring himself to get used to. He had seen you injured before, but never seen you in your own pool of blood, so this made him feel sick to his stomach.

"Stupid," he whispered, gently rubbing your forehead. His eyes remained fixated on you as you rested, his insides still churning with emotions. "You're not weak, and you're not hopeless." Once upon a time, Satoru might have thought of you as weak, but now he knew better.

"So why you always pick the worst decision?" The more he thought this could've been avoided, the more irked he was. The thought that he could have done something to prevent it intensified the sting of guilt, and he continued to punish himself with it.

And the more he dwelled on the idea that he had hurt you prior to this, the tighter his breath became.

But that was who you were. Self-sacrificing to a fault. And he loved you for that. There was no way of him letting you go now.

It astonished even himself—that he was capable of this love thing. At first it was an attraction, but now that you had been going on for more than a year, it felt like it was no longer a silly infatuation after all.

"Hurry and wake up, will you?" Satoru gently brushed your hair aside, his eyes fixed on you. He didn't know it even as his gut twisted, his frown deepened and his touch quivered, that he was worried sick. "I have a lot to make up for."

And he left you with a tender brush of his lips against your forehead.

Nanami Kento was the first person you saw when you awoke from coma.

You struggled to regain your senses, still feeling absolutely broken. The dull throb on the back of your head was still there, and as if you had found yourself trapped in a fog, you were only able to move sluggishly.

"You're awake?" his gruff voice greeted, laced with concern. In his hand were a bucket of fresh flowers and fruits basket, which he soon placed at the table next to your bed.

It was unexpected, because ever since the tragedy that costed Haibara's life, the two of you had been drifting apart.

You nodded, and let out a hum in response—all you could manage at the moment.

"Thank God." Nanami sounded relieved as he pinched the bridge between his eyes, and you were moved that he had shown this degree of concern.

Your remaining classmate, who suffered the burden of Haibara's life just like you. He was always quiet or brooding somewhere, hiding his own feelings.

You felt tears pricking the corner of your eyes. The fact that he visited you meant that he hadn't decided to cut you out of his life yet.

"Gojo-san is out today, but he'll be back by afternoon," he said, mistranslating your tears as some sort of a want to have your annoying—ex?—boyfriend at your side.

The two of you were still not on talking terms, weren’t you?

You so badly wanted to say thank you to him—and tell him that no, you weren't looking for Satoru—but it came out hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Huh?" Nanami then realized what you were trying to say, and a faint smile graced his lips. "Just... get well soon, L/N. Have a good rest."

Just before you drifted back to sleep, you could hear him sigh and mutter, "Hello, Gojo-san? L/N has awakened. Just letting you know is all.”

You weren't sure how much time had passed when you woke up the second time, but the curtains were already drawn and only darkness came from the window. Your body felt lighter, but you still felt like a mess and and couldn't help but groan in discomfort.

Satoru was there, he perked up at the noise you made. And you realized that it was the first time in about a week that he faced you after that disasterous almost-breakup.

He walked up to you, his expression was more hopeful than you had ever seen him before, like a kid whose wish had been granted. He slowly shifted to sit beside you.

"Hey, welcome back." His voice was soft. It was a change of pace for him, as you were used to seeing him all loud and silly.

Now your voice no longer sounds like a lead. "Hey."

"How are you feeling?" he asked and you took a moment to look at him. He was smiling, but exhaustion reached his bright eyes, dimming them. "You know, with the whole you passing out and almost dying thing?"

His words were almost humorous as he spoke, like he didn't know what else to say except try to lighten the mood, but there was also a strain on his tone, like he was holding back.

"I'm quite fine now, I suppose..." You still felt the lingering pain and dizziness as you slowly sat up. Satoru reached out to steady you—and you realized how his fingers trembled when they made contact with your body—as his brows furrowed with worry when you winced.

"You don't look like it though." His voice dropped and the humor was gone, replaced by this haunted look. You blinked. It was probably the first time you had seem him this ruffled.

He immediately pulled you into a hug, cradling your head to his neck gently, as if to protect and shield you from the world altogether. Exhaling heavily, he leaned on you. "You scared me, you know that?"

You wondered out loud if you really had that hold over him. "Did I?"

"You can't do that to me, you hear?" Satoru stroked your hair, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck. His voice quivered. “Don't ever do that again.”

He pulled you tighter against him, but still careful not to crush you.

You let out a snicker, letting go of everything you felt during this horrible week. "Heh, afraid to lose me, huh?"

"Shut up,” he grumbled. “What were you thinking anyway? How did you calculate that freefalling is better than letting that cursed spirit attack Ichiji?”

"He was defenseless. He could die, you know that."

"And you also can," he quipped, upset, pulling away enough to look you squarely in the eyes, his eyes devoid of any expression, yet filled with a raging wave that you could only interpret as undiluted concern.

The emphasis in his tone made you recoil and feel guilty. If you were in his shoes, you probably would've said the same thing and so you had nothing to say to that.

But the more pressing agenda in the list was the unspoken silent treatment the two of you saw fit to use against each other for the last few days. Satoru was the one who decided to address it first.

"About that night..." he faltered, looking away. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm sorry."

Satoru always had trouble processing emotions. This time too. He must've a hard time dealing with the anxiety caused by the possibility of him losing you for good, no matter how much he tried to be unaware of it.

"..." You wanted to respond, to make him understand your point, but somehow right now you were just too weary. And he sensed your reluctance. So you blurted the first thing that gnawed at your mind.

“You said you could have any other women out there—”

"No, really—" he started to panic, and it was blatantly too, which surprised you. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Us. I don't regret anything. I’m not breaking up with you. Being with you is the happiest I've been ever since Suguru left."

“That's...” you blinked, before letting out a small sigh. “Okay. Fine then. Let's just put it behind us for now.”

“I—” he almost wheezed, his bright blue eyes were overtaken with sheer urgency to explain how wrong everything had been that night. “You must know that I didn’t mean any of it. And that I hate hurting you the way I did. I won’t—”

"Satoru, I understand," you let out another sigh, fidgeting with your fingers. "Sometimes when I’m reminded of Haibara, I also get sad. I don't want to presume but I think I know how you feel. Just next time, maybe," you shifted your gaze on him, seeing how you had his attention fully. Gojo Satoru, the strongest now, was looking at you as if you had his fate in your hands. "Just tell me if you need space and I would have understood."

"Yeah, okay, sure," he responded immediately, relieved, before a lopsided grin appeared on his face, turning him back into your dork slash boyfriend. "So, am I forgiven now?"

"A thank you would be nice."

In the end, he chuckled, seemingly resigned. "You should sleep more."

He positioned himself into bed next to you, and you let him pull you into his chest again. You could feel how his taut back started to relax upon the contact. He pressed his lips on your forehead in a fleeting kiss.

"Promise me you won't pull that stunt again.”

You smirked. "I can't. What if Ichiji—"

"Then just let him die."

You swatted his arm playfully, pressing your head to his chest as he continued to run his fingers on your hair. He cushioned you carefully, and you felt the tension in him slowly melt away with each breath you took. In your mind, you figured he needed this closeness more than you did, if anything, for the sake of his sanity.

“I love you,” he whispered by your ear, kissing it lightly.

“Mmhm.”

As you felt Satoru's calming presence, it helped ease you into slumber. You soon found yourself in a deep sleep, comfortably held in his embrace.

Epilogue

Ichiji gulped as Satoru stared him down, sizing him up as if he was the most despicable creature on this planet.

Okay, he might be. He was a coward, all he could do was trembling in the face of evil. But he had come in peace, even bringing fruits as an offering! He felt bad too that he was the partial cause for you to be this injured.

He was used to Satoru terrorizing him—calling him names, slapping him, and whatnot—and he could take it. Just this time, he really looked like he could murder him on the spot if he wanted to. A small part of Ichiji mourned that you were his girlfriend, because that pretty much sealed his fate that Gojo Satoru could indeed murder him on the spot because he had a valid enough reason to.

"You are—"

"No! I'm sorry, Gojo-san! I'm sorry for my incompetence!"

"Hah?"

If he was mildly irked before, now Satoru was visibly irritated.

"You're not cut out to be a jujutsu sorcerer," he started. "You're useless. You just get in the way most of the time."

Ichiji kept his head down. No, no. He can't cry!

"Get your driving license or I'll slap the shit out of you."

"Oh?" and before he knew it, Satoru had stalked away, leaving him in the dust. How rude! But...

Get a driver license? Quit the jujutsu work?

Hey, that sounds like something I can do!

[heartsriki]

FOR YOUR EYES ONLY ⌇편지

pairing ᝰ ni-ki x fem!reader — featuring.. jungwon | word count: 2200+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ highschool au!, fluff, misunderstandings, sunshine x grumpy.

synopsis — After seeing your tiny crush nishimura riki sneak something into the confession box you just had to investigate.

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊guys I swear ill make a non highschool au with riki soon... I couldn't help myself.. anyways its FEB!! can't wait to write valentines themed fics!

Finally.

It was your favorite month of the whole year.

You worked as a library assistant at your school—not because you particularly loved the job, but because it was better than joining a club.

Well… that’s what you told people.

In reality, you had a secret gig.

Tucked away in the most secluded part of the library was your confession box—a simple, unassuming container where students could slip in anonymous notes pouring out their feelings.

It started as something just for you. A place to vent when things got overwhelming. But then, he found out.

Jungwon.

You had no choice but to let him in on your little secret, and somehow, he became your best friend. Over time, word spread, and people started using the box themselves. What once held only your thoughts turned into a place where students whispered their love stories into folded pieces of paper.

Only Jungwon knew you were the one behind it.

And now, February had arrived—the holy grail of confessions. Sure, people submitted notes year-round, but around Valentine’s Day? The numbers spiked.

You weren’t going to lie. You loved it. Not just the thrill of reading them (and occasionally sharing the best ones with Jungwon, who never breathed a word), but the idea that you were helping people express what they were too afraid to say out loud.

So here you were, stationed at the front desk, pretending to browse book requests on the computer when a group of girls giggled their way to the back of the library.

Your eyes flickered toward them, amused. Definitely not because you were excited to read their confessions later. Nope. Definitely not.

Then, moments later—he walked in.

Riki.

The second you saw him, your instincts flared up. Suspicious.

Riki never stepped foot in the library. He barely did his assignments, let alone read for fun. So why was he here?

You watched, careful not to make it obvious. He glanced around, acting almost… nervous? And then, without a word, he disappeared into the back.

Seconds later, he reappeared from the other side—hands in his pockets, expression unreadable, walking out as if nothing had happened.

Your breath hitched.

No way.

Did Nishimura Riki just put a confession in your box?

Your hand scrambled for your phone. You had to tell someone.

You:

JUNGWONJUNGWONOMG

PLSPLSANSWERLOOKATURPHONE

Wonnie:

Ok what the hell

What is it?

You:

You are NEVER going to believe who just slid into the back of the library.

Wonnie:

Is it Jake again? Poor guy

Maybe Jay? Idk tell me

You:

Nishimura… Riki…

Wonnie:

… Fr?

Maybe he confessed to you?

You:

Right, totally.

Wonnie:

Think about it.

And you did think about it.

You and Riki had a… relationship. Not exactly a friendship, but not total strangers either.

You first met in detention.

It was your first time there, and you had no idea what you were supposed to do. So, naturally, you turned to the guy next to you—the one with his headphones on, slouched in his seat like he owned the place.

Curious, you tapped his shoulder.

He flinched, looking caught before turning to glare at you. “What?”

You blinked. “How did you sneak those in? Can I listen too?”

Before he could answer, you asked another question. “Wait, also—what are we supposed to do in here?”

His face twisted in disbelief. “What do we do in detention? You sit here. Now be quiet before—”

“Mr. Nishimura, sneaking electronics in again?” The teacher’s voice cut in, hand outstretched.

Riki groaned, slumping back in his seat before begrudgingly handing over his phone and headphones.

When the teacher walked away, he snapped his head back to you, eyes burning with betrayal.

You swore he glared at you for the rest of the day.

Ever since then, you tried to make it up to him—with snacks, lunch, even passing him worksheets to copy. Eventually, after weeks of bugging him, he forgave you.

Kind of.

Even now, he still acted so indifferent.

Whenever you waved at him in the hallway, he looked away. When you invited him to sit with you and your friends, he ignored you. Even when you walked beside him, talking about anything and everything—he barely responded.

At first, you assumed he was just bad with people. But then you saw him with his friends—laughing, joking, talking.

So why was he only like this with you?

Eventually, you gave up.

You distanced yourself, refusing to waste energy on someone who clearly wanted nothing to do with you.

But then, every now and then, you’d catch him staring—or see him approach you, only to hesitate and walk away.

It was confusing. Frustrating. You told yourself you didn’t care anymore.

Until the school trip.

It had been late at night when you were sent to fetch supplies from the shed—a small, isolated building at the edge of the woods.

You weren’t scared, but walking alone with only a flashlight wasn’t exactly comforting.

By the time you found everything, thunder rumbled outside. Moments later, the skies opened up.

Heavy rain. Lightning. The kind of downpour that turned dirt trails into slippery nightmares.

Running back wasn’t an option.

So, hugging your knees to your chest, you sat in the shed—silent, alone, trying not to cry.

Minutes passed. Then—

The door burst open.

You jumped, heart nearly stopping—until your eyes locked with his.

Riki.

He stood there, soaked from head to toe, breathless, his curls sticking to his forehead.

Did he… run here?

He didn’t speak. Just stared for a moment, like he was checking if you were okay, before stepping inside and sitting next to you.

“Jesus,” he muttered. “You’re helpless, you know that?”

You blinked, then let out a soft, teary laugh. He was trying to act tough. But he was clearly worried.

Neither of you spoke after that. You just sat there, listening to the storm. Well, you spoke—rambling like you used to, and for once, he didn’t seem to mind.

By the time the rain cleared, something between you had shifted.

And now, months later, here you were—staring at an empty confession box, knowing Riki put something inside, yet not finding his name anywhere.

Jungwon’s voice pulled you back.

“I knew I’d find you here.” He smirked. “Anything good?”

You forced a laugh, trying to mask your disappointment. “Yeah, some interesting ones. Oh—Minji completely dropped her last crush and moved on to a new one. Isn’t that crazy?”

Jungwon squinted at you. “You’re looking for Riki’s, aren’t you?”

You groaned, immediately dropping your head onto the table. “I’m pitiful. Don’t look at me.”

Jungwon laughed, dragging a chair out and sitting across from you. “You’re not pitiful. Just mildly down bad.”

You groaned, keeping your forehead against the table. “But I know he put something in there. I saw him! I was so ready to read it, but it’s like—poof!—nothing!”

Jungwon tapped his fingers on the table, thinking. “You sure he actually put something in the box?”

You lifted your head slightly. “Of course, I literally watched him sneak in.”

“Then…” Jungwon grinned knowingly. “What if he took something out?”

That made you pause. You sat up straight, eyes wide. “Wait… What?”

“Think about it,” Jungwon continued. “If he put in a confession and realized he wasn’t ready, maybe he took it back.”

Your mind raced. That… actually made sense. But why would Riki take it back? And more importantly—who was he confessing to?

The thought made your stomach twist, and you weren’t sure why.

Jungwon smirked, clearly enjoying the sight of you struggling. “You could just ask him, you know.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, right. ‘Hey, Riki! Weird question, but did you happen to steal a confession from my box?’”

“Why not?” Jungwon shrugged. “Or are you scared of the answer?”

You opened your mouth, ready to deny it, but the words never came. Were you scared? The idea of Riki confessing to someone else made your chest feel tight in a way you weren’t ready to unpack.

Before you could respond, the student council room door creaked open again.

And there he was.

Riki stood in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, his hair a little bit above his eyes which flickered between you and Jungwon before settling on you.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of you. “Welp. That’s my cue to leave.” He patted your shoulder before slipping past Riki, whispering a quick, “Good luck,” on his way out.

The door clicked shut. Silence.

You swallowed. “Um… Did you need a book or—”

“I didn’t take it back.”

Your breath hitched.

Riki sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “The letter. I didn’t take it back.”

Your heart was pounding now. You tried to keep your voice steady. “What do you mean?”

His gaze dropped to the floor. “I put it in there without a doubt, I think… someone else removed it. Maybe it was a sign not to confess to you.”

You.

Your throat went dry. “It was… for me?”

Riki let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Obviously.”

You blinked. “Obviously? What do you mean obviously? You ignore me ninety percent of the time!”

He huffed, looking almost embarrassed. “I don’t ignore you.”

“You literally pretend not to hear me half the time!”

“Because I don’t know what to say!” Riki finally looked at you, frustration and something else—something softer—lingering in his expression. “You drive me crazy, you know that? You talk too much, you’re way too nosy, and you never leave things alone. And somehow, I—” He stopped, exhaling sharply. “I like you, okay?”

Your brain short-circuited.

Riki rolled his eyes at your stunned silence. “This is embarrassing.”

You snapped out of your trance. “Wait, wait. Back up. You like me?”

He groaned, turning toward the door. “Forget I said anything—”

You grabbed his sleeve before he could leave.

He froze.

Slowly, you grinned. “You like me.”

Riki’s ears were turning red. “Shut up.”

You laughed, warmth bubbling in your chest. You never thought you’d get anywhere with him, and yet—here he was, out of breath looking at you so fondly, confessing in the most Riki-like way possible.

February was definitely your favorite month of them all.

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The moment Riki stepped into the library, he knew he was making a mistake.

This wasn’t his scene. He didn’t do books, didn’t do anything that required more effort than necessary. But here he was, standing in the one place he actively avoided, shoving his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets as his eyes flickered toward the back.

He could feel your gaze on him.

You were always watching him.

Not in a weird way��more like you were constantly trying to figure him out. Always with that curious glint in your eyes, like he was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

He hated it.

No, that wasn’t true. He hated that he liked it.

And now, as he made his way toward the confession box—the stupidest thing he’d ever been a part of—he was hoping you weren’t paying too much attention.

With one last glance around, he slipped to the back, pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, and dropped it inside.

Then, without missing a beat, he walked out through the other side, playing it cool.

It took everything in him not to look back.

He could already picture the way your brain was short-circuiting, the way you were probably grabbing your phone to text Jungwon. You always told him everything, after all.

Riki swore under his breath as he left the library.

He wasn’t even sure why he did it.

Well.

That was a lie.

He knew why.

It was because of you.

Because you confused the hell out of him.

You were supposed to be annoying—loud, persistent, way too nosy for your own good. You were supposed to be someone he could easily brush off, like he did with everyone else.

But you weren’t.

Because no matter how many times he ignored your waves in the hallway, you still smiled at him. No matter how often he shut you out, you never stopped trying.

And then you stopped.

You finally gave up on him.

And for some reason, that made his chest feel too tight.

Ever since that night on the school trip, when he found you curled up alone in the shed, it had been harder and harder to act like he didn’t care.

That night, when he heard you were missing—it was like he could imagine you with red eyes, shoulders shaking—he couldn’t stop himself.

Didn’t even think.

He just ran.

Ran straight into the storm, through the rain, barely able to see a damn thing—but knowing exactly where he was going.

When he finally got there, when he saw you small and fragile under the dim light, something in him cracked.

He never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn’t know how to tell you that.

He wasn’t good with words. He wasn’t good with feelings.

So he wrote it down instead.

It wasn’t a confession, not in the way you expected.

But it was something.

Something for your eyes only.

Something he thought you would have found by now.

So when he walked passed the student council room later that evening, seeing you and Jungwon hunched over the pile of notes, he knew immediately.

You hadn’t seen it.

Because if you had, you wouldn’t be looking for his name like he overheard.

And now, as both your heads snapped toward him, your eyes wide and startled—

Riki sighed, stepping forward.

…You took it, didn’t you? He thought looking straight at Jungwon.

Because if you didn’t find his letter in the box…

Then someone must have.

What was Jungwon playing at?

What happens next? Click (optional)

[limethefirst]

Mutual Understanding

pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x reader (platonic)

warnings: sonic 3 spoilers, mentions of death, trauma bonding lol!!!

summary: as the assistant in training for Stone, you’re tasked with keeping an eye on the black and red haired hedgehog

a/n: just watched sonic 3, I love it so much I immediately wrote this as soon as I got home, please enjoy and go watch it as soon as possible (I LOVE YOU SHADOW AUAGHH)

You watched as Stone left the Crab, running a quick errand so he could finish the suits he was making for Robotnik and his grandfather Gerald. You had a strange feeling about him and you could tell Stone did too but as assistants all you could do was brush it aside.

As Stone left you looked towards your right, Shadow stood near you his eyes staring at where your mentor was standing only moments ago, before his head tilted to glance at you. His eyes scanned you, as you scanned him back, you knew what he was capable of, you were warned but you couldn’t help but keep looking.

Shadow held his gaze on you before he turned away, looking at the television still playing in the background, the telenovela now capturing his attention.

You watched him as he stared ahead. Deciding you had nothing else to do, you sat down on the floor, not daring to get near Dr Robotniks chair, knowing he’d notice if it was moved even a centimeter. A sigh escaped your lips as whatever was going on in the strange show kept going on, you tried to get into it but it felt too generic for you.

“Why are you here,” Was the first thing you’d heard him say. You perked up at his sudden question, this was the first time since you’d met him that shadow had talked to you.

“What?” You asked him, curious as to what he meant.

He looked back at you, no longer paying attention to the show, “I asked why are you here”

You slightly raised a brow still somewhat confused, “Well I’m uh- an apprentice here so it’s like kinda my job?” You shrugged at the hedgehog, slightly raising your arms.

Shadow didn’t seem satisfied with your answer. The room settled into an uncomfortable silence as Shadow continued to just stare at you.

Nervously you glanced around the room, not out of fear but just confusion as to what he even meant.

“Are you alone?”

“What.” You asked, deadpanning at the straightforward question, “Obviously not-“

“No” Shadow cut you off, “Why are you with them?”

You knew who he was referring to, Stone and Robotnik. Obviously they weren’t your parents, it was easy to see from the way they treated you. Stone was kind but he wasn’t very parental, he was more of a teacher. Robotnik was definitely not parental, he was more like a demanding boss who didn’t give his workers equal pay.

“They’re all I have,” you bluntly responded to the hedgehog, as you slowly brought your legs closer to you.

Noticing the uncomfortable feeling you were getting Shadows gaze somewhat fell, maybe it was empathy or something else that you couldn’t quite understand.

Nervously you fiddled with the necklace around your neck, a two little star emblems given to you by your late mother.

Shadows eyes widened, he stepped closer to you trying to get a glimpse at the necklace. You looked up at him, an arm around your legs, the other gripping the necklace tight.

“You like?” You asked him, noticing how his legs uncontrollably moved him closer to you. His gaze was still fixed on it, as if he was remembering, “My mom gave this to me before she passed, she loved the stars, I do too honestly.”

He slowly sat down in front of you, both of you now looking at each other. Slightly noticing his distress you hesitantly took off the necklace, passing it to him so he could get a closer look. You knew he wouldn’t take it, of course you’d just met him but it felt as if you two had known each other before.

The necklace was silver, it was nicely kept; obviously cleaned regularly although it was a bit too small for you by now but that didn’t seem to stop you from wearing it. On it were two stars, one big star and another smaller star, it looked as if they were shining, but one was brighter than the other.

“A light still shines even though the star is gone,” You mumbled looking at the necklace in Shadows hands. His gaze quickly snapped up, his usual angry demeanor faltering to show a small look of shock.

“What?..” Shadow asked, as he looked between you and the necklace.

You laid on your back, your knees up letting out a sigh, “It’s just, you know something I like to say when I think about her,”

Shadow got up from his sitting position, he walked over to your side, handing you the necklace back as he laid down next to you. There were no stars inside the Crab, just a bunch of machine and technology that you truly didn’t understand half of.

There was a comfortable silence now, as you two laid down next to each other; Shadow sighed, for the first time it sounded like he was free, like the demons from his past were no longer attacking his every thought.

He turned his head to look at you, “You remind me of her,”

Snapping out of your trance you looked back at him, eyebrows slightly raised, “Who?” You asked, your tone soft as to not startle him.

His gaze was, soft, no longer angry at the world, maybe at himself, you really couldn’t tell, “Someone I used to know a long time ago,”

You let out a hum of acknowledgment, “She sounds nice,” you said, looking back towards the roof of the contraption.

Shadow still looked at you, you were no Maria, but you made him rethink; that maybe, maybe the world isn’t as bad as he thought it was, maybe there were people worth saving.

“She was.”

[circe69]

“𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭“ - 𝐫.𝐬 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐬!𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 🕯️

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ who is it? - ryomen sukuna x plus!fem reader

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ what is it? - academic rivals, true enemies to dirty lovers, smut, unprotected p in v, reader gets called "princess", sukuna's tatted, mentions of fatphobia, reader is insecure, but sukuna's down bad, needs those thick thighs, "fuck it" moment, he's a jealous lover.

୧⋆｡🕯. -ʚɞ wc & an? - 3.2k, hi guys!!!! valentines special a little late? sry. enjoy.

"The class project will be graded on length, presentation, grammar-"

You tune out your teacher. This was the last period of the day. You were almost free. A smutty book, an iced coffee, and a quiet environment was waiting for you at home. Almost-

"And how well you work with your partner."

A quiet chatter broke out amongst the students around you. This was one of the biggest projects of the year, and from everything you'd heard from previous graduates, it was done independently.

"Yes, yes, I know. This is a new development," your teacher answered, "For this project, I will assign you to a partner. This partner," she emphasized, "is extremely important. You will spend hours upon hours with this person to complete the project. Are we clear?"

The class agrees in unison. As the teacher started rambling off names of who all would be paired up, you watched as multiple students either silently cheered or grimaced at their chosen partner.

"Last but not least, Y/N, you will be with,"

You crossed your fingers and squeezed your eyes shut.

"Ryomen. Sukuna."

Oh fuck no.

What the fu-

"Absolutely the fuck not," a loud, dark voice boomed from the back of the class.

And there he was. The bane of your existence, Ryomen Sukuna, standing up in retaliation. That pink fucking hair in all it's glory, dark tattoos marking almost every inch of skin, and that stupid letterman jacket he's always wearing.

"No way in hell I'll be with her," he exclaimed, his friends around him laughing. You turned around to look him in the eyes, and just as you figured, they were empty.

Sukuna was an all-star athlete. A basketball champion, the top of his class, a total knock-out. Everyone either wanted him or wanted to be him. He was technically perfect. Tall. Muscular. Fast. Smart.

Handsome.

Sure, you had a few wet dreams about him, every girl did. But you were you, shorter, quieter, chubbier, and couldn't play sports to save your life. He didn't give a fuck about you, but it's not like you even cared. You had something that he didn't.

Social fucking ettiequte.

The teacher took off her glasses and set them on her desk, "Partners are final, and so is this grade. No retakes, remakes or extra credit. Class on Monday begins the work period."

The bell rang, and everyone scurried out of class.

"It's not going to be that bad," your friend Cassie said across from the lunch table you were sitting at, "Yeah he's a complete dickhead, but you've dealt with worse! Remember Megumi from the first grade?"

All the girls around you groaned, "Bitch, he bit my fucking arm!" You laughed while Cassie shrugged.

"Look, all I know is that there's a nasty rumor going around that Sukuna only wants to be seen with thinner girls. Toned and skinny. And I mean," you paused to motion your hand down your body, "have you seen me? It's going to be a nightmare."

Another one of your friends, Nyla, speaks up, "First of all, you are not fat. You are curvy, got all the right stuff in the right places. Second of all, none of this even truly matters because you would've gotten an A if you'd been by yourself, you're definitely gonna ace it even with a little extra help."

You take a deep breath. Maybe it was going to be okay. I mean, it wouldn't be a walk in the park, but maybe Sukuna's misunderstood. Maybe nobody's given him a chance. He might even help you with this project, give you some great insight.

Misunderstood, my ass, you thought as you sat down reluctantly next to Sukuna. You slung your bag over the back of you chair and pulled out a pink notebook before flipping it open to a blank page. You expected him to say something, but silence filled the air between you as a clock ticked in the background.

You cleared your throat, "Alright, obviously there's no need for introductions since you've made it clear you are not fond of me," your words and peppery tone forced Sukuna to look up from the video game he was playing on his laptop. "And assuming this is a relatively safe space, I don't like you either. Never have. Quite frankly, you're a piece of shit."

Sukuna's eyes widened at your words before nervously chuckling and looking away. He leans close to you, and a strong scent of dark cologne wafts to you, "Do you really think I fucking care? Care about this class, care about you, care about any of this?" He whispered.

You smile sinisterly and whisper back, "It is literally so obvious that you don't care. Please, stop wasting your breath."

He rubs a hand down his face, laughing at just how fucking insane it is, the way you talk to him. All of the sudden, Sukuna raises a hand.

"Yes Ryomen?" Your teacher says.

He clears his throat, "Yeah, I was wondering if me and Y/N could actually go use one of the study rooms? We're getting a little distracted in here."

She sighed, "Yes, that's fine. Go ahead."

Sukuna jumped up, not even looking behind him to see if you were following. As the two of you exited the hallway, you tried to keep up with his long strides.

"Look, I don't know what your plan is, but it's probably a waste of time and this project isn't going to ace itse-"

Sukuna stopped and spun around, causing you to run right into his chest. You took a step back and leaned up to look him in his eyes. He pointed at the open conference room and whispered, "We are going to go inside that room, lock the door, and speak like civilized people. We're gonna work on the project, feel good about it, and leave early, because I have a party to go to tonight," your huff of annoyed laughter interrupted him, "That sound like a plan?"

You laughed as you walked into the room and turned on the lights, "Sure, Dad. Whatever."

Sukuna threw his books onto the table, "Damn it, you are so fucking annoying."

"What happened to civilized?" You rebutted, rounding the table while taking slow steps toward him.

"Oh, that went out the window the second I heard your name come outta our teacher's mouth, bitch."

The room went silent, Sukuna's breath hitched, your eyes saw red.

"The fuck did you just say?" You asked, taking a step closer to him.

He didn't know what to expect, what to say, he knew he just fucked up. But there was no going back now, and in his head, fucking up even more was his only option. Sukuna straightened his back and crossed his arms across his chest. Your toes were touching his, bodies too close, breath intertwining, but he leaned closer anyways, "I called you a bitch."

You shoved him. Hard. Against the wall behind him. A picture frame shook before falling on the floor. Sukuna made no reaction.

For some reason, tears started welling behind your eyes. Why was he so mean? Why did he have so many comebacks lined up? Why were you entertaining it? Why do you wish he was touching you back, even if it meant he'd hurt you?

You shoved again, this time a grunt escaped you. But his arms stayed in place, never reaching out. His body barely even moved from your force. What was happening? Why was the silent tension between you thick enough to cut into pieces? Your hands against his rough chest burned his skin through his clothes, and every singe screamed, "You shouldn't have said that."

As you shoved for a third time, and as a small cry came from your mouth in frustration, Sukuna's eyes changed. Even though you couldn't see it, every part of his body tensed and relaxed at the sight of your body failing itself. He could see you breaking down, and everyone around him would've told him to wind you up more. To enjoy it.

Before he could say anything else, you looked him in the eyes, "Fuck you," you spat, and grabbed your books before heading out of the conference room.

"Come to the party with us," Cassie said to you in the mirror as you watched her curl her hair. "It'll be fun! We'll get drinks, and dance, and you don't even have to stay for a long time. Say the word and I'll take you home."

It did sound appealing. The idea of a buzz, something to take your mind off of everything, loud music, wearing something cute, maybe talking to a guy.

Fuck it.

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

Cassie gasped, "Are you serious? Really?"

You nodded, and she squealed in delight, "Oh my gosh, I'll call Nyla. She's gonna freak. out." You laughed as she dialed in a few numbers in her phone. As Cassie held the phone up to her ear, you could hear the tone ringing, and Cassie whispered over her shoulder, "Go get dressed already!"

You forgot why you never used to go to parties, until you got to this one. Everything was so overstimulating, from the lights, to the smells, even your thighs sticking to every chair you sat on made it worse.

But you looked good. You knew it, and it had been a long time since you let yourself acknowledge it. A black mini dress that hugged all your curves, and lacy little thigh-highs. You were a goddess, a vision.

And every one seemed to agree. Especially Sukuna's friends.

"Damn, did you see the ass on her?" A white-haired basketball player nudged Sukuna's arm while talking to the rest of the team. As he turned around to see who he was talked about, he almost spit out his drink.

Fuck.

There you were.

Dancing underneath a blue beam of light, with your arms around your friends neck, your sweet hips swaying to the music. It was almost as if he could hear your raspy voice from where he stood, smell your vanilla perfume and sweet-like-cherries hair.

That dress was sinful. It was too tight, too short, too much for Sukuna to even handle, and suddenly, he could feel his blood turn hot at the thought that every single guy in this room is thinking the same thing.

Unfortunately, he was the last person you'd wanna hear it from.

He had always had a thing for you. Your kind words and quiet tone (to everyone but him) along with your overall angel-like appearance, the equation was sickeningly sweet. For years and years, he lifted up silent prayers to God that you'd be in his class the next semester. And they were always answered, only for him to never ever speak to you. So when the teacher said that you were going to be partners, he couldn't believe his ears. He had one chance, and he fucked it up, all because he didn't want to admit it, not even to himself, that the love he had for one girl was only met with hatred.

But as he made his way over to you, he ignored the blaring sirens in his head, all the thoughts that kept him up at night, all he heard was you.

Sukuna was right behind you, inches away. But he didn't want to touch you, not yet. He waited until you turned around and watched your eyes widen at the sight of him.

In this light, he was majestic, and you hated him for it.

The white tee shirt and dark-wash jeans were adding no help to your case, and a pair of black aviators rested upon his head. Every muscle, ridge, even the veins in his forearms, you wanted it all. And maybe it was the drinks, or maybe you were just so done denying it. You had always denied it.

He leaned down, "What are you doing here?"

You looked him in the eyes, "I'm dancing."

The song changed and lights faded to a deep red, and while bodies swirled around you, both you and Sukuna remained steady.

"I can see that." He cleared his throat and scanned his eyes down your figure, "Can practically see your whole ass, y'know."

"What d'you care, hm?"

You could see his molars grind against each other, his adams apple bobbing from a swallow. Just then, another guy comes up behind you and swirls an arm around your waist, "Hey, wanna dance?" You look at your suitor and smile slightly, so excited to see how this is going to play out.

"She's busy," Sukuna growled, and you rolled your eyes.

"Doesn't look like she's busy to me." The man's arm slithered away from your waist and moved so his hand was resting on your hip.

Sukuna was about to kill every single person at this party.

His inked hand reached out to your wrist and tugged you into his side, "Yeah well doesn't matter what it looks like, dumbass, she's fucking busy."

The strange man's hand on your hip was exchanged for Sukunas. The touch of his hand, something you'd thought of for years, dreamt of for longer, had finally reached you. And you hated how much it felt like something you'd been searching for forever.

"Sukuna," you shrieked, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He turned to face you, "Me? What's wrong with me?" His hand squeezed the flesh of your skin subconsciously.

"C'mere," he dragged you to the nearest bathroom, fleeing between bodies and furniture pushed to the side. He opened the door, and gently pushed you inside, shutting it behind him.

He didn't even bother to turn on the lights. You were surrounded by darkness, with the only exception being the strobe lights coming from under the door.

Sukuna's arm was still around your frame, but now, it feels different. Like he wants it to be there.

"You," he starts as his hands travel up and down your hips, "are so fucking distracting."

You can't see his eyes, but you know what they look like. They're not empty anymore. They're yearning, tired of waiting, impatient and hungry.

Sukuna backs you up against the bathroom counter, "So you're gonna have to forgive me for acting out of line out there, and at school, and all my life," his hand reached up to cup the back of your neck, "it's the least you can do for fucking me up."

And that was all you remembered before you felt his lips on yours. As violent as he was born, as scary as you thought he was, his tongue was gentle and forgiving as it pried between your lips. You couldn't help but let out a whimper before breaking the kiss.

"Wait, but I thought you didn't like heavier girls-"

"Who the fuck told you that, sweetheart?" He said against your mouth. You shrugged in response, "Just rumors, I guess."

"You guess?" He whispered as he kissed down your neck, and back up to nibble on your earlobe, "You guess wrong. Very fucking wrong." Sukuna bit the soft spot on your neck and his hands traveled down to knead the fat of your ass, "These hips were made for me, baby. Made for my hands, made for my mouth and teeth. Mine. All mine, Y'hear me?"

You nodded as you wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him into you, enveloping his lips with yours. This time, his kiss is harsh and jealous. His tongue licked against yours in fervor, the sound of teeth occasionally clashing only made you pull on his hair more.

"Fuck, I'm sorry for shoving you that one time." You whispered into his mouth before kissing him again. Sukuna dragged the two of you to the floor. "That shit turns me on, precious," he said as he pulled your dress over your head. He growled at the sight of your full tits bouncing free from the fabric. All that was left on your skin was a skimpy thongs and thigh highs.

"Mm, fuck you and these fucking thighs. Look at what you do to me." He said as he shed himself from the shirt and pants, "Making me go insane."

Sukuna lowered himself over you, spreading your thighs apart with his own. The cold air hitting your pussy was a reminder of just how wet you were, soaking the fabric of your panties. A groan tore itself from your throat as he bent down to lick one of your nipples.

"Yes, oh- mmph," you moaned as his teeth grazed the bud, "Need you, please, needed you for so long."

"I know baby, I know,"

That's all it took for Sukuna to free his cock from his boxers. And from the looks of it, you were absolutely fucked.

It was huge, bigger than any dick you'd ever taken in the past, with a patch of pink hair around the base of him. His lips reached down to take yours in a deep kiss as he guided himself to your entrance.

"Fuck," you whispered as you felt the tip of him notch inside you, "It's b-big, Sukuna."

He slides in another inch while thumbing at your swollen clit, "Damn, you're gonna call me that while you're taking my b-big cock?" He mocked, but then reached down to kiss one cheek, than the other, "You can do it, princess - f-fuck - Get there with me."

Once he was fully seated inside of you, you could feel the tip of him just kiss your cervix every time he thrusted. "Fuck, fuck Ryo', feels good." You moaned while fisting his hair, "I like that, baby, say it again."

"Ryooo', you groaned, you felt your climax approaching faster then you expected. A fire was lit underneath your belly and every word that poured from Sukuna's mouth was a douse of gasoline.

"Mmph, these tits - fuck - that pussy, everything about you. You feel so fucking good."

An overwhelming urge to come came over you, as well as a strange feeling, something you'd never felt before, and with every hit his dick gave your cervix, the feeling only grew stronger.

"F-feels weird, Ryo', it's too much, feels like m' gonna- oh fuck."

Sukuna could feel it too, the way your walls rippled against his length every second that passed, your breath was speeding up, your voice was giving out. "Fuck, so pretty, let it out baby, milk my cock. You wanna do that? Spray me baby, I don't give a fuck."

At his words, the cord finally released and snapped. You were coming, and hard, while gushing on his dick. "Fuckkkk, so- so good."

"Where do you want it, princess?" He asked as his thrusts turned frantic and untimed. "Inside. Please. On the pill."

His balls tightened as he came, "M'cummin, cumming so hard," Sukuna warned as he released his load inside of you.

"Fucking hell, I should've done this sooner," Sukuna said into the crook of your neck. The sound of panting and shallow breathing flooded around you.

"Well, if you weren't such an dick maybe you could've."

He playfully smacked your ass in response, and you laughed at the notion.

"What a funny story to tell our kids, huh?"

"Kids? Ryo, we have to at least finish this fucking project first."

"Shit, I completely forgot about that if we're being honest."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Rude."

"Well, if you help me out, I guess I could have a kid or two of yours."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[kooggukk]

𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 BEYOND THE JOB // JJK

daddy jungkook (literally)

; babysitting the cutest angel on earth is the perfect job. (except when her father is fucking hot and wants all of you)

+ comment if u wnna be added to the taglist

— 1/??

| next part >>

“seriously though, you have to fuckin’ quit that job already.”

Sasha, who happens to be your best friend ever since you started working at the local elementary school, just lectured you again. she was already teaching there when you arrived, you spent your lunch breaks with her and even be each other’s substitute sometimes.

surprisingly, she quit a few months after that. you stayed close though. at first, she was dying to know the drama happening among the teaching staff, but as shit kept going down which included you and the principal, all you ever hear from her is that you need to quit.

it wasn’t a huge surprise to her when you first told her your boss, aka the school’s principal, asked you out. it was weird, but everyone knew he was.. a little desperate. he had asked most of the female teachers out, some who agreed could only say bad things about the experience.

you declined his offer politely, explaining that you don’t want your personal life to mix with your job. it was awkward after that, but turns out he seems to be the dumbest person on earth. he asked you out two weeks after that, again.

still to this day, he keeps asking you out over and over and you keep rejecting him over and over again. sure, he got a lil’ crush on you, sweet, right? fuck no. he’s a pervert, doesn’t know what personal space is.

“but i need the money. i don’t know where else i could get such good salary.” you told her, for the nth time.

“be a stripper,” Sasha casually said, sipping on her diet coke while your eyes widened.

“don’t say nonsense, dafuq..” you both shared a giggle, but you definitely won’t put that job idea on the bottom of your list. maybe in the middle, or top 5. if you really can’t find a good place, then gotta be top 3.

“you could be one until you save enough money, then look for a less crazy one.”

“there’s never enough money, sasha.” you sighed, fuck inflation. when you grew up and finished studying, you realized the hardest part of being an adult was money. it’s crazy how difficult it is to make a living.

“if you don’t give in your quitting notice tomorrow, i’m gonna do it for you instead.” she narrowed her eyes at you.

“i don’t want to make a decision too quick. not until i know i can find another job.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

“no.”

“quit.”

…

“okay.”

she squealed in her chair, gaining some attention on the two of you.

“if you dare to lie to me right now, i’m gonna make you eat your own shit.”

you kicked her under the table, sending her a glare. “behave, bitch.”

┈ ⪩⪨   ┈

“oh, __! what brings you here today?” your boss, sehun immediately stood up from his chair, ready to greet you with a hug.

panicking, you reached your hand out with a paper, catching his attention. “this is..?”

“my resignation notice, sir.”

“your what?”

he took the paper from your grip, examining it carefully. his eyebrows fell together, eyes scanning every single word.

he backed up, resting on the edge of his table. he looked at the paper again, rereading the first sentence.

‘Kindly accept this letter as my formal resignation…’

“are you sure, __?” he asked, putting the paper on his table. he crossed his arms, frustration written on his face.

you fixed your hair, giving him a firm nod. “yeah, i’ve been thinking of it for a while now.”

“i’m glad i could be a part of this amazing team, but i just feel like,” you struggled to find the words, obviously you didn’t want to tell in his face.

‘aye bruh, stop bein’ a pervert and you might stop losing your workers’

“look, teaching isn’t my thing. and i feel horrible to find that out so late.”

“well, if your passion for teaching ever comes back, you’re more than welcomed here.”

“thank you,” you smiled, because even though he’s the most annoying person you’ve ever met, your co-workers have always been kind to you.

the children also love you, and you’re extremely thankful for all the support and love you got from everyone.

during the usual lunch break, you co-workers heard the news too. they all wished you the best with a hug, some getting emotional too.

officially, this was your last week working at the school.

when you got home, sasha sent you a link to an advertisement.

‘looking for a nanny’

you laughed, dialing her contact. didn’t take her long to answer, obviously. she’s always on her damn phone, even when working.

“you can’t be serious. a nanny?” you laughed, finding the idea of you with a kid ridiculous.

“have you seen the description? girl, they pay damn well!” she said, followed by her exhaling.

“didn’t you say you’re gonna stop smoking?”

“i stopped. for three hours.”

you shook your head, putting her on speaker as you clicked the advertisement.

“170.000₩?” you blurted out loud, “a day?!” sasha hummed on the other side of the call.

“told ya’..”

“that’s.. nice. woah, yeah, nice.” you mumbled as you continued to read the requirements and some important details about the job.

“give it a try.” sasha said, but your eyes caught a sentence.

“they want someone with experience, as expected.” you let out a long sigh and fell back on your bed.

“you got the experience.”

“me? sasha, i never looked after a kid-“

“you work with kids. first and second graders. and they all fuckin’ love you.”

“that’s different.” you groaned.

“it’s not. a kid is a kid. 3 year olds are just as damn annoying as 7 year olds. prove me wrong..”

you laughed, she was right. they can be a huge pain in the ass, but they have the purest soul.

“true.”

“give it a try, __.” she said again, calling you by your name. oh she’s serious serious.

“yeah, i might call tomorrow then.”

“might? no, you will.” she corrected you and you rolled your eyes.

“sure.”

you called them the next day after considering it for half a day, being the typical embarrassment, you called at the wrong time.

the man was in a hurry, so you both just quickly agree on a time to meet in person. that happened to be the day after.

you looked at the address one more time after you got off the bus, realizing it was more of a wealthy neighborhood. you only had to walk about 5 minutes until you got there, hesitantly but you pressed the bell.

a tall, young man opened the door. his skin is smooth and fair, almost perfect. his hair dark, slightly wavy which was styled in a mullet cut, longer at the back.

his choice in clothes seemed to be rich, a white ribbed polo shirt with short sleeves, causing your eyes to drop to his sleeve tattoo in a second. he paired it with black tailored trousers.

“hey, you must be __?” he asked with uncertainty and you came back to life, smiling to him.

“yeah, i am.”

“great, come in.”

he stepped aside and you walked in, taking off your shoes and jacket.

the house was oddly barely decorated, not a single picture or painting on the walls, very few plants, which you’re sure are fake plants also. the house wasn’t really colorful, most of the furnitures are bright. like beige and cream white.

“would you like a drink? water, tea, soda? maybe coffee?” he suggested as he walked in front of you, leading you to the living room.

“no, thank you.” you politely refused, feeling a little.. off in such a nice home. not something you’re used to.

you sat down on the couch, carefully not to mess the neatly placed pillows behind. god you looked so uncomfortable and awkward.

“i’d like to introduce myself again, in person this time.” he spoke as he sat down on the armchair, next to the couch.

“i’m jeon jungkook, 27. i’m a dentist in the center of seoul. i’m the father of a sweet angel, nabi. she turns 5 in a few weeks, we could say she’s in her, erm,” he struggled to find an appropriate word.

“crazy phase?” you asked with a smile.

“yeah, something like that. she’s been loud lately, that’s all.” he chuckled, resting his arms on his knees.

you nodded and held your small bag tightly, “i’d like to introduce myself better too, then.”

“i’m __, 24 and i currently work at an elementary school. i handed in my resignation letter and this is my last week as a teacher, so i’m searching for a new job currently.”

you paused, hesitant what else to say.

“elementary school? so, you work with kids?”

“yes, first and second grade.”

after a few minutes of getting to know each other more, a little girl, most likely his daughter, walked down the stairs with her sleepy appearance.

“oh!” she stopped the moment she saw you, the tiredness leaving her eyes.

“nabi, c’mere.” jungkook held out his hand, “this is __. what do you say?” he asked her, holding her tiny hands.

“hello.” she greeted you and you smiled, her shyness is adorable.

“hi.”

“__ is here because she would like to look after you.” he said and she looked up to him so fast, you thought her neck would snap.

“daddy, are you leeving me?” she gasped and jungkook chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

“no, but when i’m at work, someone needs to be here and take care of you. how about __, does she seem nice? hm?”

the little girl shrugged, hugging her father’s arm. he sent her back to the bedroom, saying he would be there soon too.

“well, she’s a little shy at first but, i think she’s gonna open up fast.” he smiled and stood up, your eyes widening a bit and you stood up too.

“does that mean, i got the job?”

“see you next monday?” he asked and you almost started jumping, but you held back. instead, you gave him a huge smile and nodded.

“monday then.”

[longlivejemily]

After Office Hours

Part 2 here

Pairing: Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Reader goes to her favorite professor hoping to find ways to improve her grade. He has some unconventional extra credit opportunities in mind...

WC: 1.3k

Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi public sex, thigh riding, use of y/n, use of “baby’ and “little girl” plz let me know if i’m missing any!

You’re running down the hallway of the law building at your university silently begging that your professor is still there. As you approach the door, he’s exiting, keys in hand. “Wait, Professor Reid! I’m here! Don’t go!” You call out to him closing the last yards of space between you. “Miss y/l/n you’re late, office hours are over.” “No Dr. Reid you don’t understand! My statistics professor wouldn’t let us leave until we finished the lesson on probability distributions! I told him I had office hours to get to and he didn’t care. Please Dr. Reid I really need to talk to you about my grade!” He puts his hands in his pockets and sighs while gears are turning in his head. “Fine, for you I’ll make an exception.” “Thank you thank you.” You try not to read too much into his comment as he opens the door, “after you.” You don’t notice that he locks the door after following you in. 

As he sits across from you at the desk, you pull out your physical midterm paper all marked up in red ink. “I thought I grasped this concept so well! I don’t understand how I got a C-.” “Y/N, you got a stressor and trigger backward. You failed to accurately explain the concept. The points you did get were from the passion in your writing. I appreciated the way you wrote, but I couldn’t give you a higher grade. I’m sorry.” 

“Professor, I have a 3.5 GPA and I can’t have that drop, especially not from my favorite class!” He clasps his hands under his chin with his elbows below him. “Miss y/l/n, it seems you have been struggling in this class for a while now. I see how hard you work but you have narrowly maintained a B-. If this is your favorite class, why didn’t you come to office hours sooner?” “I-” Your mind is moving too fast to form an answer. You look down at the ground and can’t help but press your thighs together. You’ve only had a few moments in such close proximity to Professor Reid before, and definitely not alone. His eyes seem to darken, “Do I make you nervous?” You just press your legs further together “Umm..” “Come here.” He says in a soft yet demanding tone while scooting his chair back. When you walk over to him he gestures towards his lap. “Sit.” You comply. You put your right hand on his shoulder as his left-hand reaches around you and grips your side. He can probably hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“You know how I knew you wanted this? When I guest lectured in your physics class you were wearing sweatpants. Out of anything you could have worn, sweatpants. You tried to hide it, but I saw your eyes widen when you saw me. You never dared to be caught dead in front of me clad from one of your tiny little skirts you love wearing to my class.” He takes the hand not at your side and squeezes above your knee. “Do you wear those skirts just for me? Tell me the truth.” You turn to him but avoid eye contact. In the quietest voice you say “Yes, just for you professor.” Knowing you were coming straight to his office hours after stats, you wore one of your shortest skirts and knee-high black boots. You hoped being alone in office hours on a dark fall night he wouldn’t be able to resist you. It was worth a shot, anyway. He smirks and before he has a chance to reply you say, “Now back to my grade, is there anything I can do to improve the grade I got on my midterm? Can I resubmit it with your notes taken into account?” “I’m sorry miss y/l/n but there's nothing I can do. The university policy states that once midterm grades are locked, any work done before can not be revised. My apologies.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Any extra credit opportunities this term?  I can help you grade papers or clean your classroom! Please I’ll do anything! I need to improve my grade, please!” He just stares at you while you beg. “Anything?” He says with a devilish smirk. “Yes sir.” You say back to him, smiling and batting your eyelashes. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and once he opens them he locks eyes with you and says, “Ride my thigh.” “Excuse me, Doctor?” His dick jumps at the honorific. “You said you’d do anything to improve your grade. I know you heard me, ride my thigh.” You cannot believe Dr. Reid just asked you for this. Since the first day of class, he has been the sole object of your fantasies. You’ve fallen asleep many nights imagining him bending you over his desk and fucking you until you scream.

 Without a second thought, you stand up to resituate yourself on his lap, straddling his left thigh. The moment you stand up he reaches for your wrist, “What are you doing?” You smile on the inside, those four simple words have shown you he wants this as badly as you do. “Don’t worry professor, I’m just turning around, I need something to grab onto.” You say as you sink down onto him. You put both hands on either side of his shoulders and begin to rock back and forth finding your rhythm. The roughness of his khakis against your ass and your thong pushed against your clit has you stifling your moans quickly. He grabs your chin to make you look at him, “I want to hear you, baby.” You let the moans leave your lips, still mindful of volume. He puts one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip, gently guiding you. When he touches you, you are on cloud nine. Here you are, in your professor's office after hours riding his thigh as he speaks sweet praises to you. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. “That’s it baby keep going.” You are eyeing the member in his pants start to grow. Every time he speaks you get closer and closer to the edge. He can tell by the way you’re speeding up. “Come for me little girl, I want to hear how good you’re feeling.” The use of little girl sends you over the edge. 

Tightly gripping his shoulders as you ride out the rest of your orgasm, leaving dents in his shoulders through his dress shirt. Once you’re done cumming, you collapse onto his chest breathing heavily. Staring down at his lap you see his dick straining against his pants, and he’s huge. He gently rubs your back as you come down from your high. He kisses your head and lifts you by your shoulders facing him. You’re staring deep into his eyes. “You did so good for me, but it's getting late, you should get home.” “Right right, sorry. I’ll head out now.” As you stand up and adjust your skirt you notice the wet spot you left on his pants.

 He sees you staring and interrupts your thoughts, “Don’t worry about it. Can I plan to see you next week at office hours?” “Yes!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “Um I mean yeah, I’ll be here.” You say in a chiller tone. “Good, I have more extra credit opportunities in mind, I hope to see you in class on Monday. Next week, come to office hours once they're done, okay? Don’t show up before 7.” “Yes Dr. Reid, I look forward to improving my grade however you see fit.” You say with a wink heading towards the door. When you go to turn the knob it's locked. You unlock it and glance back at him. He’s still staring at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You have the biggest smile on your face walking back towards your dorm, next week's office hours can’t come soon enough.

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in about 10 years! Should I turn this into a mini series? I have more ideas for how this story could go! Any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: It has been too long since you heard from Bradley. Perhaps something went wrong. Or maybe he was avoiding you. Just when you start trying to accept that the last few months were too good to be true, things start to turn around again.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being sweet

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Days went by. With only two weeks left of Bradley's deployment, you weren't really expecting to receive air mail at school with your name on it, but you certainly did miss it anyway. Your students asked about him every morning, wondering if he'd sent a new email, hoping for another video with Marty. But you got nothing in either of your email inboxes.

He was on your mind almost constantly. What happened on his mission? Did the Navy decide it was okay to cut off communication right when you were completely attached to hearing from him? Did this really mean you had to wait until the aircraft carrier arrived back in San Diego? 

It was right before your students were due to arrive in your classroom that you had perhaps the most distressing thoughts of all. What if something went terribly wrong and he didn't survive? Or what if this was simply his way of ghosting you before he had to see you in person?

Jayden raced in ahead of the rest of your class, calling your name along the way. "Did Lieutenant Bradshaw write back yet?"

You pointed him toward his desk as you shook your head. "I already explained that he may not have time to respond before his deployment ends."

Jayden just bounced in place in front of you. "Then that means he can visit us when he gets back!"

Now a small group of your kids surrounded you, and you wished more than anything that you could tell them that Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, their beloved pen pal, would definitely be visiting your classroom in a few short days. Instead you told them, "Please, take your seats so we can start our Natural History lesson."

This turned out to be your new normal. Every time you got an email notification, you jumped to unlock your phone, but it was never a message from Bradley. When you saw a box tucked in your mail cubby in the school office, you ran for it, only to find the science supplies you ordered weeks ago had arrived. You even forced yourself to go back and read some of the old emails from him, just to make sure it all really happened, but his words left you aching for more.

...I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies...

...You'd look adorable snuggled up in your bed. But then again, when aren't you completely Gorgeous?...

...Gorgeous girl, you're messing with my head...

...And it's not a matter of if I touch you, it's a matter of when...

After nearly two weeks had gone by, you tried to figure out if the USS Theodore Roosevelt was back in port, but short of driving to North Island to see for yourself, you couldn't seem to find a solid answer online. And if you did drive there and found it at the dock, what were you supposed to do? Contact the US Navy? If they told you that nothing happened to Lieutenant Bradshaw and that he was perfectly fine, you'd be mortified. If they told you something in fact did happen to him in the last two weeks, you'd be devastated. That's assuming you could even get them to give you any information at all which was doubtful.

On Friday, you were on the verge of tears as you got ready for work. "You're being ridiculous," you whispered, and that fact made you want to cry even more. You tried to take the time to make yourself look presentable, thinking that may be the key to having a good day. Your outfit was cute. Your makeup looked nice. But you weren't smiling, and you didn't feel like doing so at all. 

You grabbed your bag, hoping the short ride with your favorite playlist would be enough to get your spirits up, but all you could think about was how you probably weren't cut out for life with a guy in the military anyway. Waiting around like this to see what was going on was making your stomach upset, and you weren't getting enough sleep. When you closed your eyes, you just pictured a very kissable face with a scarred cheek and big brown eyes.

"You need to focus," you scolded as you parked your car and headed into the school with your ID badge. You had eighteen kids who required your attention, and you'd once again give it to them, because you were fantastic at your job. 

This morning, Violet was the first one to mention Bradley in passing, and you had to shake your head. "Please find your seats. If I hear from Lieutenant Bradshaw, I promise I will let you know. I'm not hiding any letters or emails from you all, okay?" You tried to smile as you said, "I'd like to hear from him every bit as badly as you would. I can guarantee that."

You struggled through your morning lessons, often reminding yourself that you needed to focus on your students. Then you sat quietly at your desk with the classroom lights off during lunch, scrolling back through the dozens of emails you'd exchanged with Bradley on your phone. You pulled up the picture of the sun setting behind him in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, and even though you tried, you couldn't find anything other than the most sincere expression on his handsome face.

Maybe he would text you this weekend, letting you know he was back and your date was on. You had to believe he would still contact you. When the bell rang, you counted to ten, and then your students came flooding back through your classroom door. They wanted to tell you all about how Jasper from Mrs. Wynn's class got in trouble during lunch, and you humored them before saying, "I'm sure none of you would misbehave like that in the cafeteria."

"No way!" Henry promised.

"That's what I like to hear," you told him with a forced smile. "Once you're all in your seats, we'll start our math lesson. Maybe I'll put a few aviation problems on the board at the end if you show me how well you can focus for the next twenty minutes."

You had just started copying the first fraction that you wanted to discuss from your notebook onto the board when there was a sharp knock on your classroom door. You sighed and let your forehead rest briefly on the white board, knowing that another disruption would completely derail your kids after all the lunchtime nonsense. When you turned to face the door, they were already starting to chatter with each other. 

"Come in!" you called out, and every head in your room whipped around to see who was there and what they wanted. 

When the door swung open, the room went silent. The first thing you thought about was how peculiar it was to see someone in a khaki military uniform standing there. Then your eyes slid up that tall, muscular frame as your lips parted in surprise. As soon as you met his gaze, he smiled and said, "Hey, Gorgeous."

You couldn't speak. As he took a full step into your classroom and pulled the door closed, you finally noticed he was holding some pretty flowers. Then he was heading your way, his combat boots squeaking ever so slightly against the tile floor with each long stride. Bradley Bradshaw wasn't hesitating at all as he made his way directly to you while your students started talking again.

"It's Lieutenant Bradshaw!"

"I knew he'd come visit us ever since I asked him to!"

"Does this mean his deployment is over?"

"Why does he have flowers?"

He didn't stop until he was standing right in front of you, and the butterflies in your belly were fluttering so much, you were convinced you could float off of the floor. You weren't sure what else to say, so you simply whispered, "Bradley."

His smile grew as he said, "I love the way that sounds when you say it." You could only squeak in response, and his warm gaze flicked from your eyes down to your lips. At this rate you'd be a puddle at his feet in the next ten seconds. He swallowed hard, cheeks flushed as he leaned in closer, taking another small step forward until his boot gently bumped your shoe. His voice took on a raspier edge as said, "You told me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

He didn't stop slowly closing the distance, and when you reached out and let your fingers tangle with his, you whispered, "Please." Then you closed your eyes as his lips brushed feather light against yours. You gasped. He was here. Nothing had ever felt as good as this in your life. You opened your eyes to find him grinning right in front of you, and you chased him for another one of his dreamy kisses.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw kissed her!"

"I think they're in love!"

"They are definitely going to be girlfriend and boyfriend!"

Bradley wrapped his fingers around yours a little tighter as you and he laughed, and he ducked his head before looking up at your class. His cheeks were the most alluring shade of pink as he told them, "Hey, I hope you don't mind that I decided to surprise you and your teacher."

"We don't mind!" shouter Oliver as he was practically sitting on his desk now in excitement. All of the kids were bouncing with anticipation, and you couldn't stop smiling as Violet clapped her hands together.

"Great, because I brought my responses to your last batch of letters, too. I can't thank you enough for being my pen pals for the last few months. You made my time away from home a lot more fun." He turned to look at you before softly adding, "And you made coming back home feel really good."

You wanted to kiss him again. You wanted to run your fingers along his scars and press your lips to his skin in their wake. You wanted to bury your nose against his neck and inhale the smell of his skin and his uniform collar. You wanted to feel his mustache on your lips. Instead, because every eye in the room was on the two of you, you told him, "I'm really happy you're here." You tugged on his hand so he was standing front and center, and you turned to your kids and asked, "What do we say when we have a special guest visit us?"

"Thank you!" they all shouted in unison.

"That's right," you told them. Then you looked up at Bradley, and he handed you the flowers with a crooked little grin, and that's when you noticed he had a small notebook in his hand as well. 

"Can I call each kid up to get their letter?" he asked, as if you would deny him anything at the moment. "Then I can put faces to all of the names."

You were still definitely at risk of melting. "You wrote each of them a personal letter again?" you asked him, holding your flowers to your chest and trying not to swoon.

"Yeah," he replied, opening his notebook to show you. He stood there, looking devastatingly sexy, tearing out a page for every kid. He called each of them up and talked to them for a minute. He remembered the name of Jayden's dog. He remembered that Violet loved neon-colored everything. He remembered that Henry said his grandfather was in the Navy. He remembered so much, and he was so willing to indulge all of their questions.

You just stood there with your flowers and watched this endearing man captivate all nineteen of you with his words. He let Oliver try on one of his insignia pins. He drew a diagram of an aircraft carrier on your white board. He met your gaze more often than not. He smiled at you every time he did. He told your students that the reason they were so smart was because you were such a good teacher. The butterflies were here to stay now.

When you looked around, you noticed that your kids were cherishing their personal notes just like you were your flowers. You didn't want this afternoon to end, and yet, as soon as the first bell rang at three o'clock, you jumped to attention. The sooner your students cleared out of the room for the weekend, the sooner you could hopefully have a few minutes alone with Bradley before he wanted to go home and rest.

"We need to pack up," you announced, finally setting the bouquet down on your desk while Bradly affixed his pin back on his uniform shirt.

"Do we have to?" whined Jayden. "Lieutenant Bradshaw like just got here!"

He had in fact been in your classroom for over two hours, but you couldn't blame them for wanting more. Bradley cleared his throat and looked at you as he said, "I could come back again?" with that sincere gaze you were already weak for. "Spend a few more hours answering questions? Maybe bring some engine parts with me?"

You bit your lip before you could whimper out loud, and he started to head in your direction. "We would love that," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked you as your kids erupted into a rowdy mob, grabbing all of their belongings as the final bell rang.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, waving lazily to your students as they shouted their goodbyes to both you and Bradley. His steps had him reaching you right as the last few kids left your room, and you whispered, "You'll come back?"

He reached for your hand as he said, "I'll do anything you want, Gorgeous." He must have been able to read the needy look on your face, because when you tugged on his hand, he came all the way to you. His other hand ended up at your waist as his lips found yours, and this time, the feather light kisses deepened as you parted your lips. Bradley groaned softly, kissing you just right, and then he whispered, "I've been dying for this."

Your arms went around his neck, kissing him a little frantically, melting at his touch and the feel of his soft, wavy hair between your fingers. "Me too," you told him before pulling his bottom lip gently between yours. He backed you up until you bumped into your desk, and all you could think about was how good his weight would feel on top of you.

Your skin felt too hot when he finally broke the kiss, panting softly as you ran your thumb along his scars. "I didn't like not hearing from you the past two weeks," you told him, and his brown eyes softened even as his hold on you tightened a little bit. "It was... kind of scary."

"I didn't like it either," he told you. "And I was going to text you immediately when we docked this morning, but then I decided to just come here instead." He grinned as your fingers crept back up into his hair. "If they didn't let me sign in with my military ID in the front office, I don't know what I would have done. I just wanted to see you."

You kissed his chin and said, "Usually I hate surprises. But this one was perfect."

"Okay, see, that's good information to know," he rasped. "I only got a ride home long enough to throw my duffle in the front door and hop in my Bronco. I stopped for the flowers, and then I just wanted to get here with my notebook."

You tipped your head back and whispered, "How am I supposed to deal with how sweet you are?"

"Oh! That reminds me," he muttered, rubbing his hand along your back before releasing you and strolling over to where he left his notebook on Oliver's desk. The way your body wanted you to follow him was surprising, but it gave you a chance to look at him again from head to toe as you stood next to your desk. There was nothing out of place on this man, and you pressed your lips together as his bicep flexed against his shirt sleeve. He tore another sheet of paper from his notebook and said, "I have one more note to deliver."

He walked back over to you, and when he held it up with a hopeful look, you took it from him and read.

Hey, Gorgeous. I couldn't wait one more minute to see you. And now that I'm here, I don't want today to end. Is there any way I can convince you to let me take you out for our first official date tonight instead of tomorrow? Bradley

When you looked up from the page, his eyebrows were raised, and that crooked little grin was hovering close to the surface. "I know I said to plan for tomorrow, but I can't fucking wait that long."

You bit down on your lip, shocked by how much better today turned out to be than you could have ever imagined earlier this morning. "Yeah. You've convinced me, Bradley. Tonight sounds perfect."

With that, you were treated to a little smirk beneath his mustache. He carefully took the sheet of notebook paper from your hands, set it down next to the flowers on your desk and proceeded to kiss you senseless.

----------------------------

He's going to make me hyperventilate. Those kids were SO excited to have him in their classroom, but they were nowhere near as excited as Gorgeous! He's home! And he wants to have his beach picnic and takeout and makeout sesh immediately. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[fujoshirat]

When the Shouto Todoroki saves you and your kindergarten students at the aquarium during a villain attack, you can't seem to get him out of your head. Bonus: you're quirkless and he's a pro hero, so you live in two different worlds. The glue? His cute nephew that's obsessed with rocks and that just so happens to be in your kindergarten class.

In short: You've become obsessed, you suppose. But that's all right, you're not the only one that's obsessed.

WARNING: I cooked so get ready for a long chapter >:)

1 - I'm Obsessed With You

'Two, four, six... sixteen!' Counting the little yellow hats waddling around the jellyfish exhibit, you make a mental headcount of all of your students. Sixteen little kindergarteners with bold personalities and big hearts all under your care. As their kindergarten teacher and chaperone for the monthly field trip, it was your duty to keep an eye out of all of them.

You were quirkless, but you've accepted it.

You knew that you would never become a hero, and that was okay. You would never be like All Might or the young student hero Deku during the war.

But that was okay.

People still respected you. The convenience store ladies would applaud you when you would tell them your job. 'A kindergarten teacher? Sounds fun!' You family loved you all the same and your friends still invited you to the izakaya bar near the station.

And being a kindergartener teacher was fun. Nurturing the children was your passion, and caring for them came like second nature.

Rounding up the children and having them form a line, you led them to the next exhibit. "Alright! Does anyone remember what exhibit we are going to next?" A chorus of "me! me! me!"s filled the area as you led the group to an outdoor area of the massive aquarium. Scanning over all sixteen children, you call out a student's name. "Himari-chan! Do you know?" The bubbly girl with twin braids eagerly nods her head. "Mhm! Mhm! The penguins!" "Very good!"

The sound of honking and chirping fills your ears, a definite sign of the marine animals. Stopping, you clear your throat and turn around to face the children.

"Alright kids, would you like to explore the exhibit?"

"Yes Y/N-sensei!"

"Okay, find your pair and stay in this room. I will call everyone once it is time for us to move on." You watch all sixteen of your students start finding their buddy and splitting up. They were responsible children that knew not to run off on their own and to go to you when they needed the toilet. As the last pair went off to join majority of the students at the emperor penguin's area, you walk towards the sound of chirping.

Walking closer to the Adelie penguins exhibit, you spot two yellow hats in the same area. Upon further inspection, you recognize them to be Kaoru and Taro, huddled close together as to not get separated.

"Kaoru-kun, Taro-kun, do you like the Adelie penguins?"

Taro, the taller one with rosy cheeks and brown hair nods enthusiastically. In contrast, the white-haired Kaoru just stares at you with his usual blank expression. However, the shorter one's eyes seem to sparkle despite his nonchalant look. 'Ah', you recall, 'he must be excited about the rocks because of his rock collection'.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Kaoru Todoroki was a quiet boy. The five-year-old was respectful and completed all of his tasks at school. He never fought and always participated in the activities and games during recess. However, he preferred not to talk and would just observe everyone. On the occasion that he would talk to you, he would only talk about one thing: his rock collection -> "Kaoru-kun! How was your Christmas?" "Good, Y/N-sensei. My oji-san took me camping and got me rocks for my collection." "Oh wow! That sounds like a lot of fun!" -> It was so nice that the little boy had something he enjoyed despite his cold demeanor. He didn't seem to be abused either: you had met his father, Natsuo Todoroki, at the first day of school orientation. He was a pediatrician who was pretty nice and always greeted you whenever he picked Kaoru up. Just like the rest of the world, you knew who your student was related to. A last name that carried high respect and esteem, you could only wonder why his parent decided to enroll him into your kindergarten. However, you didn't mind it at all. ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

"Do you boys know why the penguins collect the rocks?" They shake their head in sync. You crouch down and point at two Adelie penguins in the corner.

"Adelie penguin boys give a girl penguin a rock because he loves her. He wants to give her a special rock because he thinks that she is so special. When he gives her the rock, the girl penguin will thank him and put the rock in her nest, right there!" You direct their attention to several pebble-nests in the same area. "When she lays eggs, the boy and girl Adelie penguins will keep them warm so they can hatch safely! They are now all cozy like a little happy family. Do you understand?" You stifle a laugh to yourself when you notice the awestruck expressions on both students' faces. Turning around, you look at the other students wandering around the room, doing a head count to make sure that everyone is there. 'Two, four, six, eight...'

But before you can reach sixteen, the sound of glass shattering interrupts you. Right where Kaoru and Taro were, a villainous man breaks the glass barrier between people and the Adelie penguins. Honking and chirping sounds ring through your ears, your heart thumping frantically in your chest. 'A villain!? Poacher!? On field trip day!? But there aren't any heroes around!' Some of the aquarium staff on duty rush to the masked man,

but more glass shatters and they're knocked onto the floor, unconscious.

Pushing Kaoru and Taro and behind you, you instinctively cross your arms into the shape of an 'x' and shield your face from the villain. You hiss at sharp glass shards bouncing off your skin, small cuts forming.

"Stop! Please!"

Three more masked people enter the room. The man takes no mind to your pleas and instead barks orders to what you think are his subordinates in another language. The three men each begin restraining you, an elderly woman, and a couple with rope. You can hear the other kids crying in the back, all huddled together.

This wasn't good.

Trying to fight back, you jab your elbow into one of your assailants and your foot at another. However, they were much stronger than you and quickly pinned you down.

And then there was ice.

A massive sheet of ice appears and freezes over the main villain. You catch a glimpse of red and white hair, your eyes widening at the sight. Only one man could have that distinct color.

It seems like Shouto Todoroki, number 3 hero in all of Japan, is saving you right now. Ensuring that the masked man is secured, he makes quick work of his minions. A kick here, some ice there, a sprinkle of fire. It was all a blur. The next thing you knew, his nimble fingers easily removed your binds and scanned your body.

"Miss, are you alright?"

And just like that, you were hooked. God, his voice, his physique, his care, you just melted at his feet. He wasn't Japan's hottest hero for nothing, and he sure was living up to that. It takes you a while to snap out of your daze (embarrassing), but thankfully he had time to wait. His team was helping the elderly woman and couple, already checking if they had sustained any injuries. Turning your eyes back to his majestic face, you notice his eyebrows furrow slightly. His larger hand gently grabs yours and you wince. Confirming his suspicions, he spots your arms littered in cuts and your left wrist slightly bruised. "You're injured. Are you able to stand up?" You can stand up just fine and offer a polite smile.

"Yes, thank you so much Pro Hero Shouto! I appreciate the concern but I need to check my students, so-" "Red Riot is already checking up on them. I can promise you, ma'am, that they are in good hands." That professional tone was going to kill you, and apparently it did kill your voice, so you swallowed and wordlessly nodded. The pro hero sits you down on a bench and pulls out a bandage roll from his suit.

"I apologize for the poor substitute of a brace. The ambulance is on its way." You watch him kneel down and pray that he doesn't notice the (furious) redness painted on your cheeks. Shouto respectfully takes your arm and bandages it, careful not to apply to much pressure. You admire his hands, large, rough, and calloused, no doubt from his quirk and hero work. It was admirable (and certainly handsome). As he finishes up, he gets ready to say something when sixteen little yellow hats crowd you and him.

Ritsu, the youngest and smallest out of all of your students, is the one to cry first.

As she bawls her eyes out, you reach out to her. "Hey, Ritsu-chan, it's o-" You wince as a bolt of pain crawls up your right arm momentarily, and that causes her to cry harder. Just like that, most of the kindergarteners begin crying. Red Riot, another famous and good pro hero, walks up with a sheepish expression. "Sorry Miss! I promise that I only turned around for one second, but they all ran to you!" He turns to Shouto after. "Shouto, the ambulance is here and the medics are running in." He nods and turns back to you, giving you a soft nod. Clearing your throat, you address your students.

"Is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?"

"You, Y/N-sensei!" You smile warmly, heart touched by theirs.

"Don't worry about me. I'm okay. You all are so brave for not panicking when the villain came and instead stayed together. Can we say thank you to pro heroes Red Riot and Shouto?"

"Thank you, Red Riot and Shouto!"

The red-head hero grins in response, and you watch Shouto's unreadable expression shifted into a soft smile.

"It's no problem at all. Now, can I ask that you all stay with Red Riot while I help your sensei?" All in awe at the popular heroes, they nod and eagerly bombard Red Riot with questions. You chuckle to yourself but notice Shouto's gaze focused on your injuries. As he walks you to the medics, you chirp up.

"It really doesn't hurt that bad, I promise." He shakes his head, "Excuse me." Before you can respond, he abruptly picks you up and sits you on the edge of the open ambulance. '!?!' Your cheeks flare up again.

His gaze never leaving yours, two female medics quickly check up on you and properly bandage you up. One of them gently applies ice to your wrist and smiles at you. "Name, please?" "L/N, Y/N." "Alright, thank you L/N-san for being patient! Your wrist is minorly sprained, so we're using ice to help with the swelling. Please ice it when you get home and be careful not to put pressure or overwork it. Your forearms are minorly cut but should heal per usual. Do you have any quirks or conditions such as pregnancy that we need to be aware of?" "Ah, no." You see the handsome man observing you, his eyes widening in slight shock as he listens to what you tell the medic. He remains silent as the other one chimes in. "Alright! L/N-san, you are good to go!" "Thank you very much!" Shouto helps you down to ensure that you don't use your wrists again and bows to the ladies. They wave at the two of you in a friendly manner and start closing up the ambulance.

As Shouto walks you back, you can't help but admire him. He's tall. Unfairly tall. He towers over your body, no doubt almost or at six feet. His skin is fair and porcelain, and his muscular biceps are noticeable (definitely something to drool on about) His scar most definitely complements his facial features. You also notice that his cheeks are slightly plushy, round and definitely soft if one were to touch it. It was... kind of cute.

He ushers you back into the entrance of the aquarium where his team, all civilians, and all staff were gathered. You spot your students and instinctively want to run to them, but with a warm hand hovering behind the small of your back, you stay put next to the pro hero. You expect all of your students to run to Shouto, to bother him with questions,

But Kaoru runs to you and him.

"Oji-san!" The little boy hugs Shouto's leg, his ivory hair only reaching the man's waist. You melted at the sight, knowing that it was rare to get social interaction or even touch from Kaoru. 'Cute!'

Wait...

SHOUTO TODOROKI WAS THE UNCLE THAT HE ALWAYS TALK ABOUT?!?

"My oji-san got me another box for my rock collection for my birthday."

"My oji-san got me a fossil from America."

"My oji-san snores a little in his sleep."

"My oji-san took me camping and got me rocks for my collection."

You obviously knew that your student was related to Japan's Hottest Hero somehow, but you didn't realize that he was his direct nephew! What's more, you didn't realize how close the two really were, and it was so sweet and endearing to see Kaoru so out of his shell. Right now, the five-year-old was blabbing to his uncle, telling him all about the Adelie penguins today and asking if you were alright and if he was going to come home for dinner.

And Shouto? He looked so focused on the little boy, so amused, and so soft. As he talks with his nephew, you notice that some parents have already arrived, looking for you. Walking away from your savior and student, you politely greet the parents and lead them to the children, all being entertained by Shouto's team. The mothers all fawn and worry over your injuries. "You're hurt, L/N-sensei?" "Oh no!" "Thank goodness you're safe!" After about 30 minutes, the fifteen other children are all with their families and gone from the aquarium. In the horizon, the sun has already begun to set, its golden hue mixed with purple and orange.

You're a little surprised to still see Shouto and Kaoru. He already talked to the police and dismissed his coworkers, so what was he still doing here? Walking up to the pair, you look down at Kaoru. "Kaoru-kun, were you surprised that your oji-san came today?" "Mhm!" "Awesome! I'm glad that you were! I was definitely surprised." Your heart beats rapidly as you shoot a smile at his uncle. To your surprise, he smiles back (be still, my poor heart!). Standing back up, you talk to Shouto.

"I can't thank you enough, Shouto-san. You really came at the perfect time."

"It is no problem at all, L/N-san. I apologize for not arriving sooner."

"Aw! Don't worry about it! All that matters is that my kids are safe." You notice him look at you a little curiously when you refer to your students as 'my kids.' Laughing slightly to yourself, you clarify.

"My students are my livelihood and teaching is my passion. I would be absolutely heartbroken if one of them got injured, not as a teacher but as myself." You playfully wink at the pro hero's nephew, his cheeks turning pink slightly because he knows what you are going to say. "Kaoru-kun is a pleasure to have and I am thankful that he is in my class." Shouto nods and ruffles his nephew's ivory hair. Kaoru whines in response. "Oji-san!" When the tall man laughs at the five-year-old, you choke on your breath. "I am glad that Kaoru is behaving, and I'll pass your sentiments along to his father when I drop him off later." He glances at your wrist before continuing. "Do you need help going home, L/N-san? I can drop you off." You shake your head in response. "It's alright! The station is right there and I live one station away." His beautiful eyes observe your face, a hint of worry evident in his jaw-dropping face. Letting out a sigh, he nods.

"Alright, but please be safe and get help if you need."

"Mhm! Thank you."

You bow to him and glance at Kaoru. "Kaoru-kun, have a good weekend, okay?" "Okay, Y/N-sensei. Bye bye." Smiling, you walk to the subway station.

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

Unlocking the door to your apartment with your good hand, you lock the door behind you and slump down at the entrance. Today's events have just begun sinking and marinating in your mind.

"Oh. My. God."

Glancing at your left wrist, you bite your lip. 'Gosh, I hope it heals before Monday so I can return to normal.' Standing up again, you trod over to the fridge and open it. Inside, you grab leftover fried rice from breakfast and put it in the microwave. As you wait for it, you instantly think of Japan's Hottest Hero, the man that saved you, and then your cheeks seem to catch on fire.

'Oh my God, I just met him and I'm already obsessed!!'

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

A/N: Whew! What a mess! Thank you all for reading the first part of 'Obsessed' and I hope that you enjoyed it!! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) I love pro hero Shouto and his family so writing his little nephew Kaoru was THE CUTEST THING EVER!! Fun fact: His hyper fixation on collecting rocks reflects my own younger brother's dinosaur hyper fixation (like many other young boys).

I promise that Shouto's POV will also cook once I get that started and ready for you (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) so I hope that you look forward to that! In the meantime, I want to say THANK YOU to everyone's support throughout my Tumblr journey so far! My recent work received a lot of support and love, and I am truly grateful for everyone 🥺🫶🏻I really think that I have been cooking this November (and the last few days of October), so hopefully you all feel the same!

[wannaeatramyeon]

Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time: Part 1

Part 2! G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists

"How old are you?"

"20."

Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.

"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"

You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.

It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.

"I'm 20." He deadpans.

Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."

Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.

And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.

"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-

To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 

He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.

Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.

"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes."

And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.

"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-

There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."

.

.

Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.

You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.

He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.

Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.

Which unfortunately has not happened yet.

With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.

You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.

Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.

You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.

It's impressive how studious he is.

In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.

Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.

You type out a direct message to the only person you know.

You: I missed that, what did she just say?

Gun: You should have been paying attention.

You: Fuck you man!

You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.

He smirks.

That night he kicks your ass again.

Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.

.

.

If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.

You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.

Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-

Hold on.

You double, triple-take-

Is that?

It must be.

Shit.

It's fucking Gun Park.

You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-

He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.

"Y/N."

"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.

He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.

The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.

Fuck.

Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.

It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.

After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.

.

.

The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.

It’s utterly charming.

Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.

Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-

Wait. You squint at the picture.

Is this guy for real?

"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.

He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.

Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."

He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.

"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

Even without a seating plan, one forms.

Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.

You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.

No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.

Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.

.

.

Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.

What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.

If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.

Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.

He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.

Alright then.

Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.

He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.

You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.

"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.

"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."

He arches a brow at your words.

"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."

There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.

.

.

Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.

You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.

A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.

He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.

"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.

.

.

Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.

He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.

Of course it would be from there.

The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!

"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.

Of course he would also be a coffee snob.

You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.

You think that's an insult.

"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.

Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.

.

.

You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?

You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad

Gun: None of your business

You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then

Gun: They are not-

Gun: Whatever

.

.

You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible

Gun: I know

You: Who’s Goo anyway?

Gun: …

Gun: No-one

You: Suuuure

.

.

You: Tekken tonight?

Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?

You: >:(

.

.

You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?

Gun: Ok

.

.

Gun: Thanks for your help

You: :) 

.

.

Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.

You: Spoken like a coward!

Gun: Dumbass

You: Hey!!

.

.

Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.

You: Does it have to be an espresso?

Gun: Yes

You: …Thanks

.

.

To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.

It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.

What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.

However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.

Strange, very strange.

You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.

"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.

"... Everything ok?"

It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.

He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.

In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.

At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.

"Are you interested in Tekken?"

"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?

"Then meet me. After class." 

"Where? Here?"

"No. At mine."

"Where's that?"

"..."

He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.

Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.

You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 

.

.

So firstly, what the fuck.

Then secondly, what the fuck.

Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.

You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.

You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 

Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?

Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?

"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.

"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.

He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.

.

.

"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.

Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.

It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.

Apart from that, it's barely a home.

"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.

"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.

'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.

"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.

He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 

“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.

Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.

Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 

He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.

Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.

If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.

You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.

You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 

Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.

.

.

"Holy shit, I won!"

You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.

Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.

You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.

What you do find is-

Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.

Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.

And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-

(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.

It sinks in.

The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.

From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)

Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.

"Yes. The best."

You think it's a lie, an embellishment.

But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.

(Update! Part 2 here!)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Good Enough

MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST

Logan Howlett x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,520ish

Summary: Logan tags along as your date to your brother's wedding.

Warnings: some mental health issues, insecurities

Notes: This is extremely self indulgent and may be terrible. My brother's wedding was yesterday and I had a mental breakdown because I've never been in a relationship and have now grown so insecure about it all. If only I had any hope of something, so I wrote this.

You sighed at the invitation in your hand. It was no shock to you to receive the wedding invite, it was from your own brother, but it stung none the less. Though you were very happy for your younger brother, you couldn’t help but ache for a relationship yourself. You wanted someone to be your confidant, your best friend. You wanted a partner to go through the difficulties of life with, someone to lean on. But you were never that girl.

  You also had a lot of insecurities surrounding yourself and relationships. You had never been in one. No one was ever interested in you. You weren’t what the world deemed a perfect girl. You were average, for the most part. It didn’t help that you were a mutant with the ability to turn invisible. Often, your mutation linked to your emotions, making you go invisible when you were nervous or excited or embarrassed. You didn’t help the X-Men besides being a teacher at the school. You weren’t what people wanted, leaving you feeling alone and longing. 

“If you glare at that paper any longer, it may actually turn invisible,” Logan’s gruff voice broke through your internal downward spiral.

You jumped slight, looking behind you to see Logan leaning against the kitchen doorway. “Oh, sorry,” you mumbled.

“Nothin’ to be apologizing about.” He pushed himself off of the doorway and walked over. “Now, what’s got you glaring that hard?” He peeked over your shoulder. “A wedding?”

“It’s my brothers.”

He nodded, grunting. “And… we don’t like him?”

“No,” you shook your head, “we love him. And I’m so very happy for him. It’s just…” Logan sat down in the chair next to you, waiting for more of your response. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Not buying it, sweetheart.”

You sighed. How much of the truth to you tell the man you stole your heart but had no idea? “It’s just… I’m happy for my brother. I honestly don’t want the relationship that they have, but I… I want a relationship. Sometimes I get lonely or I just want someone to share the good, the bad, and the ugly with.”

Logan nodded. “I understand a bit. With my, uh, long life, I’ve definitely had my moments where I’ve felt that.”

“Do you still?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged.

“There’s also the fact that I really don’t want to go to this wedding alone. I will be cornered, asked why I’m single and given suggestions on what I need to do or change to get a man.”

Logan’s brows pinched together. “That’s not right.”

“Yeah, well, it’s how it’s gonna be.”

“Not if I come with ya.”

Your heart began hammering in your chest. “What?”

“I’ll come with you. As a, uh, date—a fake date. To throw them off your case.”

“Why would you want to do that?”

Logan shrugged. “I’m free and Charles keeps trying to get me out of the mansion.” And to help you, Logan thought. He would do anything to help you and be close to you.

“Oh.” You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of hurt at the thought of Logan just coming to get Charles off his back. “I really don’t want to put you out—“

“I got no plans. I’ll be there.”

~~~

Your hands shook as you finished up getting ready for your brother’s wedding. This whole day was overwhelming to you. You were so happy for your brother and his bride, but the thought of people questioning you and pitying you had your stomach in knots. A firm knock on your door broke you out of your thoughts. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it. There stood Logan, looking better than ever. He had clearly done his hair with more purpose and trimmed his facial hair. He was dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a black bow-tie. You were taken back by the effort he had put in.

Logan felt the same way about you. You looked gorgeous. He had never seen that dress on you before, most likely because it was specific for the wedding. You were all dolled up and it took his breath away. Today might be more than he signed up for, and he was okay with that.

Logan cleared his throat. “You, uh, you look very pretty,” he said, more nervous than he meant to.

“Thanks,” you responded bashfully. You looked down, feeling your ability beginning to take control. “Shit.”

Logan reached out and took your arm. “It’s alright. Maybe letting it out now will help with the wedding.” He was assuming that your nervousness was triggering your invisibility and not his compliment. “I’ll keep a hold of you so I don’t lose you.”

All you could do was nod, thankful that only part of you was invisible. You shut your door and let Logan lead you into the garage and toward your car. He helped you into the passenger seat before going around to the driver’s side and heading off. 

~~~

The drive was mostly quiet, which you were thankful for. Between Logan being your date and this wedding, your mind was all over the place. You were also grateful that you were able to get your invisibility under control. Logan parked the car and glanced over at you.

“We can turn around if you want,” Logan said softly. “You don’t have to put yourself through this.”

You pressed out a smile as you looked his way. “Thanks, Logan, but I can manage.”

Logan sighed as he got out of the car and walked around to help you out. He wished that he had the courage to say something about his own feelings towards you. But he was sure you just saw him as a friend. You looped your arm through Logan’s and let him lead you into the venue. 

~~~

Your family was excited to see you and you were grateful that your parents understood not press the fact that Logan came with you. Logan sat in the last row during the ceremony as you were forced to stand on the bride’s side as on of the bridesmaids. His eyes remained glued on you. Your forced smile. The way your hands flickered in out how of visibility. But the thing that hit him hard was your glossy eyes. He knew that you weren’t crying because of the joy a wedding brought. Logan had to clench his fists tightly to prevent himself from going up there and pulling you away.

Logan continued to watch from a protective distance once the ceremony was over and you were pulled into pictures. The longer it went on, the more he could see everything weighing down on you and was angry that no one else was picking up on it. 

As soon as you were excused from pictures, Logan watched as you slipped away. Your invisibility took control and you were suddenly gone. Logan moved with purpose as he followed your scent and the frantic beating of your heart. He followed you to a small room in the back of the venue and locked it behind him. The sobs that began to sound from your invisible form, tore through Logan.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out, keeping near the door.

“I… I just don’t understand,” you sobbed. “I don’t understand why I’m not good enough… Not good enough for a date or a glance or a one night stand… I understand that I can be difficult and weird and I’m not the prettiest girl in the world but I… I deserve good things too. I just want to be good enough too…”

Logan’s heart was breaking at the pure realization that you truly believed that you were not good enough. He took a careful step forward, using his senses to try and figure out exactly what your position was in this room. He reached out his hand and was grateful when it brushed agains your arm. Logan gently grabbed it and pulled you into him. You leaned in and let yourself cry as he tenderly held you.

“I just want to be enough for someone,” you sobbed. “Why I am never good enough?”

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so wrong,” he softly said. “You are perfect. You are kind and beautiful. You are so talented and the best teacher. Anyone who can’t see those things are idiots… Darlin’,” he pulled back as you continued to shimmer in and out of visibility. His hands tenderly came up and held your face. “You are good enough… you are more than good enough.”

“Logan—“

“No, I should have been honest with you a while ago… You are enough for me, sweetheart. So much more than enough.” His thumbs gently brushed against your cheeks as your tears continued to fall.

“You… You aren’t just saying that?”

“Honey, you know me, I’m not one for words unless I mean them… You are good enough for me. Hell, you’re perfect in my eyes. And I will spend the rest of my life trying to show you that.” His lips met yours for a short but sweet kiss. “You are enough.”

[nanivinsmoke]

✩ Take Care .

✩ logan ‘wolverine’ howlett x mutant!femreader

hate is a strong word, but not stronger than the feelings you have for him.

✩ tags: sexual tension, enemies to lovers (?), mentions of blood, you and Logan both get hurt, passionate sex, creampies, logan has nightmares, rough sex, etc…

note: nightmare scene heavily inspired by the first x-men movie with rogue and logan. cr: plutism for divider <3!

“Did you hear? Ms. Y/N slapped Mr. Logan in front of her whole class!”

“I heard that he called her a bitch. I don’t know, that seems deserved.”

“Those two are definitely in love with each other. I don’t even have to use my powers to know.” Professor Xavier shook his head as he wheeled by a group of students, talking about his two hard headed staff members; who can’t seem to get along. At least that’s what they’ve been trying to claim.

Being a telepath has its perks, but it also has its disadvantages, and right now the professor wished he couldn’t read people’s minds. As he rolled into the science class, he wasn’t surprise3: to see the two of you there—keeping distance from one another.

“I’ve been hearing a lot about you two.” Charles announced, causing the two of you to look at each other, an eye roll from you while Logan groaned. Using his telepathy, the professor closed the classroom door; rolling closer to you both.

“Why are we here, Charles.” Logan spoke, getting ready to light his cigar—however you swiped it out of his mouth, using your powers. He shot you and look and the two of you began to bicker, but that immediately ended as the Professor got into your heads; silencing you both.

“Sorry professor..” You mumbled and the old man nodded his head.

“This is the third time the two of you had got into a fight, not counting the ones off school grounds. You two are teachers, adults better yet, and you two are setting a bad example for the kids.” Even though he didn’t look angry as he spoke, it was evident that the Professor was. It was hard for you both to look him in the eyes, he was disappointed with you two.

“If the two of you don’t clean up your acts and realize the truth behind your feelings for each other, then I’m going to put you both on leave; until I deem fit.” The Professor turned and wheeled himself out, not bothering to hear an explanation from either of you—since he made himself clear.

You turned to look at Logan, his hazel eyes on yours before he turned away—following after the professor’s steps, leaving you alone. You sighed and began to clean up your classroom, Xavier’s words replaying in your head; especially what he meant about your feelings. ‘Did you actually hate Logan?’

That question played in your mind for the next couple of weeks, wondering what were your true feelings for him. The two of you stayed out of each other’s way, taking the Professor’s words seriously; you two couldn’t afford to get into another fight.

The only time you two saw each other is during x-men meetings or as you passed each other in the hall way. It was for the best and everyone could see the change, especially Charles.

However, things took a turn during one night in the mansion…

It was real late in the night, almost everyone was asleep; except for you. You had just got out of the shower, a silver colored towel wrapped around your nude body—excess water dripping off of you as you rummaged through your closet for something to sleep in. Settling for an oversized t shirt, you slipped it over your head, tossing your towel on your vanity’s chair—before climbing into your bed, getting comfortable.

And as you reached over to turn off your lamp, your ears perked up to this low groaning, followed by some yelling. You rose an eyebrow and climbed out of bed, slipping on your slippers before coming out of your room, checking to see where that noise was coming from.

And as you followed the sounds, with it becoming louder as you approached, you found yourself outside of Logan’s room. With a soft knock, you entered and tip toed inside—the room covered in darkness, yet you could see the man writhing in his sleep. You frowned at the sight, it wasn’t uncommon for mutants to have nightmares about their pasts. However, seeing him like this hurt you and you walked over to the bed, lightly tapping him to wake him up from this terrible dream.

He continued to shake and mumble, his hands clenching the sheets below him and when you reached over once more—tapping him, he shot up from his bed; yelling—claws unsheathing and piercing your skin. You were stunned, mouth agape like you were going to scream, however nothing came out—you couldn’t.

And as Logan slowly came to, he had realized what he had done, his hazel eyes still wide like saucers—claws retracting back into his knuckles.

“Mr. Logan? Oh my—im going to get Ms. Grey!” A student who happened to hear everything, appeared in the room—shocked by the horrifying sight. You gasped and kept your eyes on Logan, before responding to the student, “No need, just go back to bed. I’m fine.”

Your healing factor had now kicked in and your wounds slowly started to close, the pain fading away as well. You turned your head and gave the student a smile, reassuring them once more. “I’m okay, really! You can go back to bed.” The kid looked over at you once more before nodding, retreating back to their room and leaving you two alone.

Turning back to Logan, his eyes had softened and he had grabbed your waist—staring at you.

“I’m sorry….I didn’t mean—“

“I know. You were just having a nightmare.” You cut him off and gave him a smile small before he pulled away, getting up from his bed and grabbing a t-shirt from his dresser—tossing it over to you. “Since i ruined yours…”

You smiled once more and turned in your heels, headed for the door before you felt his hand on your wrist, pulling you back.

“Stay with me….if that’s alright with you?” His voice was soft, just like his eyes. There was something about this that made your heart swell, so you nodded your head and dipped into his adjoining bathroom—changing out of your bloody t-shirt, into the clean one that he had given you—which smelled like him. Warm and musky, with hints of spice. It was comfortable.

Reappearing from the bathroom, you saw Logan lying on his bed, looking up at the ceiling until his eyes fell onto you. You gave him as soft smile, before climbing into bed with him, creating a distance between you two as you stayed on one side of the bed.

It was quiet as you laid there, trying your hardest to sleep, however it was just too cold. You shivered and tucked yourself further under the blanket, yet it still wasn’t enough. You looked over at Logan, his hazel eyes closed, and scooted over towards him—his body heat radiating off of him and warming you up. He felt you next to him and he didn’t protest or push you off—instead he pulled you closer and wrapped his arm around you, relaxing into his spot.

And after a few minutes, you could hear him snoring, sound asleep once again. You sighed and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep in the comfort of his arms.

From that day on, everything changed for you.

You had found yourself in his room almost every night, sleeping in the bed with him, arms around each other; having the best sleep of your lives. He didn’t mind it either. You would find him awake every time, almost like he was waiting to fall asleep with you.

And in the afternoon, during your breaks, he would treat you to lunch. Sometimes you guys would eat at the academy, other times he would take you for a ride into the city, buying you something to eat out there.

Almost like your perception of each had changed and you weren’t going to question it. You liked it and deep down you knew he did too. But, there was something about this that had your heart thumping and skipping a beat. Is this what the Professor meant? Was the truth behind the hatred really something else?

Those questions scrambled in your mind and as you entered Logan’s bedroom, your heart caught in your throat. The sight that was plagued upon you was shocking, Logan and another woman in his bed—kissing each other. “Oh.” You let out, startling the two.

The woman parted from him and excused herself out of his room, brushing past you as you stood near his doorway. You kept your eyes on him, a million emotions running through your body as his demeanor changed, standing up and coming close to you.

“Look, I don’t need a fucking babysitter and im damn sure not your boyfriend. You’re fucking suffocating me!” His words were harsh and eat one felt like a personal slap to the face. You could feel your eyes watering and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop your tears from falling. After all the things the two of you said to one another, this was one of the worst.

“You’re a dick. Go to fucking hell!” You stormed out of his room, tears falling down your face—head tense from thoughts of him; and you soon realized what Charles meant. Without using your powers to connect with the Professor, you knew he was listening to your thoughts anyway—shaking his head as he listened to your heartbroken mind. He was disappointed, especially in Logan.

Days turned into nights and nights turned into days as time went on, the two of you never interacting with each other. You passed by each other like two stranger’s on the street and evens thought the two of you worked together—that didn’t mean you needed to interact with one another.

You did your best to avoid him, during team missions you made sure to be paired with someone else and if you were paired with him; you would handle the mission practically on your own. When it was real late at night and you went into the mansion’s kitchen for a snack, and saw him there, you would quickly grab whatever you were looking for and headed to your room—never acknowledging him.

You even went as far as getting a set of ear plugs so you wouldn’t hear him at night. You were done with him. You focused on yourself, your teaching and trainings—riding him of your mind.

As you sat in your class after the last one, grading papers, Charles entered, catching your attention. You smiled at him, but from the look on his face you knew something was wrong. Using your telepathy powers, you listened to his thoughts, your facial expression changing by the second.

You shook your head and stacked your papers together, “He can go to hell and back, Professor. I don’t wanna hear about him.” The older man wheeled closer to you, and placed his soft hand onto yours, a half smile on his face.

“I’ve read his mind, he thinks about you a lot. He’s been miserable with out you, ever since that night.”

“Yeah? Well that his problem, im not the one pushing people away. Im not the one who’s scared of letting people in! Im not the one who’s not scared to admit how they feel!” You yelled, heart thumping out of your chest; overwhelmed with emotions.

“And how do you feel?” Charles inquired and your eyes widened, but before you were able to respond a cloud of blue smoke appeared in the room; allowing Kurt to pass through—a frantic look on his face.

“Professor! Come quick, Logan’s been hurt! He isn’t regenerating and he’s not waking up!” The sound of his voice along with the news, made your heart drop to your stomach. You quickly grabbed onto Xavier’s chair and teleported with both him and Kurt, appearing in the academy’s infirmary. Your eyes widened once you laid sight on him, his half naked body hooked up to wires and machinery, while Jean and Hank worked on him—trying to find anything to get the male up.

Your eyes were filled with tears as you ran over to the table, looking at every wound he had, heart breaking by the second. You cupped his face and sobbed, at that very moment you weren’t afraid to admit how you felt. You were in love with him. Deeply in love with, Logan.

“Fix him! Please!” You begged Jean and Hank, watching them trying to repair his body; but the wounds were deep and without his regenerative factor—nothing would heal.

“We’re trying, but he doesn’t seem to be there either. Like his mind isn’t conscious—I can’t connect with him telepathically,” Jean spoke, patching his bloody body with gauze, hoping to soak up everything.

By now, tears poured out of your eyes as you looked at his lifeless body, “How did this happen?” You asked, eyes never leaving Logan’s body.

“He was on a mission. His car flipped multiple times—totaling everything, injuring him gravely.” Charles explain and you blinked out tears, cupping his face, before you turned back over to the Professor. “Have you tried to tap into his mind?”

“I have, but it’s like he’s not letting me in…I think you should give it a go.” Charles suggested and you took a look at Logan, leaning down to kiss his temple—taking in his musky scent before placing your hand onto his forehead and closing your eyes.

‘Let me in Logan’ You whispered, before you heard his voice in your mind.

‘Princess, is that you?’ His deep voice asked, the nickname making you melt, before you continued.

‘It’s me. I need you to wake up for me okay?’

‘I fucked up, Y/N. I hurt you….fuck im such a dick’ The hurt in his voice made your heart pang, while more tears left your closed eyes:

‘I know baby, but you have to wake up for me. Okay?’ You didn’t hear a reply back, however you were quickly shot out of mind, hearing him groan out in pain as he finally returned back to his body. His wounds started to close up, stopping his crimson red blood from pouring out. Logan’s hazel eyes connected with yours and he started to pull out the wires in his body.

“Wait Logan! You shouldn’t—“ Hank was cut off when he seen the wolf like male reach over and pull you into a kiss—a deep and passionate one.

“I think we should give these two some privacy.” Charles suggested, with everyone agreeing and following him out of the infirmary. The two of you stayed just like that, kissing each other, lips melting onto one another’s—making your heart swell. And as he pulled away from your addictive, plump lips, a spit trail followed; which you happily slurped up.

Logan pulled you close, ignoring the soreness in his body, arms wrapping around your waist—while his head lied on your shoulder, “I fucked up, I ended up hurting you twice…all because I couldn’t say I Love You.”

You were quick to pull back from him, scanning his face for any misconceptions, however his face remained the same; and you kissed him once more—hand reaching up to tug on his hair, eliciting a growl from him. His huge hand traveled from your hips to your ass, giving the fat a nice squeeze through your skirt, making you whine.

“Could smell you the moment I kissed you. I should’ve known how needy you’d be~” You whimpered as his hand trailed under your skirt, ghosting your soaked panties—eyeing you like you were his prey. “Please…Logan~”

“Please what, princess?” He began to rub you through your panties, your slick seeping through and onto his digits. You moaned softly, looking at him with low lidded eyes, “Please, fuck me.” A smirk etched on his face, pulling you into a kiss before he pulled your panties to the side and started to toy on your clit.

His fingers worked numbers on your swollen bud, pinching it and rubbing it in circular motions, making you whine in the sloppy kiss he was giving you. He pulled away from your lips, thick fingers now inside of your aching hole—pumping in and out of it; stretching your walls.

You were in pure bliss, you had yearned for this for some time and now you were getting your wish fulfilled. “Don’t tease me, Lo’~”

“Gotta prep you. Need you to take all of me, princess.” He pulled his fingers from your pussy, a whimper escaping, before he tore your button’s off your top and pulled your skirt off—eyes glued to your navy blue matching set; his favorite color.

You watched him, hunger in your eyes while he undid your bra; your plump breasts falling—nipples standing at attention just for him. The more you watched him take his time with your body, undressing you, the more needy and impatient you became; causing you to take matters in your own hands.

Using your powers, you pushed his back onto the infirmary’s bed, catching him by surprise; eyes locked on your body as you climbed onto of him; hovering right over his crotch. You moved the white blanket, mouth watering at the sight of his heavy cock—cunt becoming more slick with arousal when you grabbed it at the base and eased it into your entrance.

He was just as big as he looked, fatter too, as he stretched your pussy to fit around him—clinging to him like a glove. “Fuck, would’ve been an idiot to give this up,” Logan cursed, big hands clinging to your hips—pushing you all the way down on his length; filling you to the brim. You didn’t bother to try and get used to his size, instead you began to grind and bounce on his dick—tension building in your core; a whine slipping from your lips.

“Slow down, princess. Don’t want you hurting yourself.” You shook your head and continued your movements, tip rubbing against your sensitive spot.

“Need to cum on your cock right now.~” your lewd words, along with the squelching from your cunt, had Logan bucking his hips up to match your movements—allowing a louder, sexier moan to escape from your mouth. “Right there, bub. Sit there and take it.” He pushed your back down, closing the gap between you two and proceeded to drill your pussy.

You were a moaning mess, face on his hairy chest, drool spilling out the sides of your mouth and the coolness form his dog tags stabilizing your body temperature—while he proceeded to make it rise with each stroke.

You were taking it like a good girl, the bubble im your stomach at its peak, seconds away from bursting—you craved the pending orgasm. “G’na cum! Please please please—I love you!” Lips crashing onto one another, his cock twitching; craving a release as well.

“Cum for me….” His tone had came off like a beg and you couldn’t hold it anymore, your walls clung onto him—spasming like crazy, creaming all over his fat dick. Logan watched as you came undone, the pretty mewls and moans were a perfect melody to his ears, perfect enough to help him cum—buckets—into your womb.

He let out grunts, thick ropes of cum pouring inside of you—filling you up while you rode out your high. Your legs shook while he continued to thrust underneath you, bottoming out into your cunt.

And just like earlier, as Charles sat outside the infirmary’s doors, he shook his head—wondering why out of all the mutant powers in the world, he was stuck with telepathy. He unfortunately heard everything, including the two of you going for round two.

However, he was happy the two of you finally got together—his two favorite mutants.

[nomadwrites]

gojo’s definitely the type to pick out his furniture based on its ergonomic practicalities for intimacy.

that table’s too high for you? he’ll get one more suitable for you to bend over. this material’s too rough on your skin? he’ll make sure it’s replaced with the softest, most expensive leather he can find because you deserve nothing but the best.

his office was no exception, ensuring that the black leather armchair positioned at the room’s centre was tailored to your liking. hell, even his students loved it, often vying for a chance to bask in all its smooth, velvety glory whenever they got called in.

but megumi knew better than to sprawl carelessly across his teacher’s furnishings, having his suspicions after almost catching you in the act a few weeks ago.

it was accidental, really. you were on your knees, hands perched atop the backrest, clawing at the material as satoru had your skirt bunched in his hands, pounding into you relentlessly. you did your best to keep silent, burying your face into the sleek material of his chair, your cries coming out in choked whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“gotta stay quiet, princess,” his voice was low and raspy against the shell of your ear as you turned your head to face him. he had a mischievous glint in his eyes that sent waves of electricity straight to your core as your walls fluttered around him, the risk of getting caught only adding to your thrill.

you were far too drunk on the feeling of his length hitting you in all the right places to hear the sound of footsteps approaching the door. satoru on the other hand, had halted his movements, pulling out of you, much to your dismay. his cock was covered in your slick as he left you feeling empty, clenching around nothing. before you could protest, he nodded towards the door, holding a finger up to his upturned lips.

“megumi,” he breathed, and that was all you needed before you scrambled to fix your skirt, wiping off the tears that had stained your cheeks. satoru had slipped his blindfold back on, making a quick recovery before clearing his throat.

“you asked to see me?” the raven-haired boy questioned through the door.

you sent him a questioning look as he gave you a cheeky smile. how could he not have told you he was expecting someone, let alone a student whom he’d practically raised for the last decade before fucking you dumb? you’d made a mental note to berate him later.

“come in,” he’d said, and you nearly choked. you swatted his arm briefly before soothing the creases in your long skirt as the door creaked open to reveal a very skeptical looking megumi. his brow was raised, lips downturned in what almost seemed like disapproval. you’re sure he caught on.

“just call me if you have anything important you need to tell me,” megumi sighed, stepping out and closing the door behind him, leaving you red with embarrassment.