#the good ones i would talk to the students and ask them if they had heard of a little sight called a03

[sage-nebula]

I've been suicidal many times in my life, and while I could talk about those experiences, given what this post is about, I'd rather talk about something else.

My boss at my previous job was not just my boss. He was my friend, my mentor. I'd met him as a student employee; I still remember the day I went in for my interview, and I asked to speak with "Mr [name]," and the other student employee who answered the door made a face and said, "Hey, Mr [Name], this girl is here to see you" when he let me in because my boss never wanted us to be so formal with him. We were on a first-name basis with him, always. I was nineteen, and super nervous interviewing for my first job that wasn't retail or food service, but he cracked jokes and made me feel welcome. He treated all of us like that.

He was just a really good man. He always stood up for us, every time the university tried to do something that would make our lives harder or less safe. I made a Facebook status once about how I was harassed by a gas station employee near the university, and he commented telling me he'd bring his bat if I needed it. When one of the supervisors ended up overstepping boundaries in a big way with us student employees, he worked overtime to make sure that we would all be safe. When I got promoted to a supervisor position after graduation, and took it upon myself to oversea the yearly Secret Santa tradition for the students (meaning I didn't participate because otherwise I would know who my Secret Santa was), he decided he wasn't letting me go without a present and got me one anyway, despite my insistence that it wasn't necessary.

Unfortunately, he had his own demons to fight. He was going through difficult stuff in his personal life. He told me a lot about it; I was a confidant for him, and at one point he told me I was the only person he could speak to about any of it. More unfortunately still, as much as I wanted to be there for him, I was also struggling to keep my own mental health on track. It was around this time that I was looking into starting antidepressants / anti-anxiety medication for the first time because of how much I was struggling, and I was really focused on getting all of that sorted so that I could stop being tempted by the trains I heard pass by my home every night. Because of this, I didn't check in on him regularly. And so, when his boss called me one morning before my shift was supposed to start and told me that he had taken his own life, I was consumed by more than just shock and grief; I was crushed by guilt.

You see, I blamed myself. Largely because he had told me I was the only one who could confide in, I couldn't help but think that if I had checked in on him more regularly, if I had been there, this wouldn't have happened. I could have prevented it. I could have saved him. He wouldn't have taken his own life, and it wouldn't have been one of his young daughters who found him like that. Not only had I lost a friend of nine years, but I felt like I failed him.

I know now that isn't the case. There were many factors involved, not the least of which being it turns out I wasn't the only one he confided in after all. But it took me a long time to reach that point—a long time until I could honestly say that I didn't feel like it was my fault.

In the midst of depression and suicidal ideation, it can be incredibly hard to see the importance that you have in other people's lives—the place that you have there, that no one else can fill. I know this intimately, because it is something that I struggle with regularly. But even if you can't see it, you have to hold in the forefront of your mind that the importance is there. The impact will be felt. Not only do people care about you, but those closest to you will hold the weight of responsibility for your life on their shoulders for a long time. If nothing else, you don't want that for the people you care about, do you? You don't want to do that to them, do you?

You are not the only one harmed by your suicide. In fact, you're the one who will feel the impact the least. Death doesn't hurt the deceased; it only wounds the living. That's why we have funerals: it's for the sake of those left behind. But no amount of funerals or celebrations of life can assuage the pain left by a suicide. It doesn't help. Notes don't either.

If you're in a place where you're ideating, reconsider. Reach out to someone close to you. Tell them where you are, mentally, and have them come be with you. Believe me when I say that they would much rather sit awake with you all night, than wake up the next morning to a message that you're gone.

Give us the chance to be there for you. It's all we ask.

periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them

[planetpedri]

All in good time, — Franco Colapinto.

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x Fem!Reader

Summary: When a college student meets her polar opposite in Franco Colapinto, she instantly disliked him. But, Franco was enamored with her and he would get her to like him, all in good time.

Word count: 1.65k+

Disclaimer/s: this is a hockey!au

A/N: this is for @purinfelix and jet only! though i love each and every one of you who choses to read it.. this was. this was ass girl shit i’m sorry i didn’t know where i was going toward the end… i may do another hockey player!franco fic tho but its going to be far more centered around the actual hockey

Franco Colapinto was a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, you’d gotten tangled into his life. When your dorm was being renovated and you needed a place to stay, your roommate suggested her friend’s house—that friend being Franco. A notorious hockey player for the Golden Knights.

He was, in simple terms, agitating. Your two and a half weeks staying in his basement was something close to hell on earth. He held parties, big ones! Ones that interrupted your studying, which he’d half ass apologize for the next morning while nursing a raging hangover, right before asking you to make your signature hangover recipe while he showered.

That was your payment for staying there. You nursed his hangovers and helped him come up with various excuses as to why he was late to practice, even going as far as to go out of your way to tell his coach you’d gotten terribly sick and he had to bring you to the hospital.

Two pea’s in a lying pod. That’s what you were.

In the first week, he’d convinced you to go to the rink to help him practice. You—only ever using figure skates—had a difficult time keeping up with him. You nearly broke a tailbone trying to catch up with him.

Franco held a lopsided grin when he stopped, ice shavings flying as he turned to face you. Though, you saw the concern flash across his face as he skated back in your direction, leaning down to help you up.

“I need an ice pack—“ Your lips formed a thin line, “actually, I need wine and an excuse to get out of this hell.”

The curly haired man laughed, pulling your hand over his shoulder as his free arm looped around your waist. Holding you up, he assisted you back to the bench, setting you down carefully.

Once you shifted to get comfortable, wincing in pain, you untie the laces on your skates. “How do you do this for a living? I’m fucking miserable and we’ve done this once.”

Franco shrugs, leaning his head against the tempered glass that separated the rink from the benches. “Maybe I will just have to put you to work.” His lips threaten a smirk, “if it helps, I do prefer practicing with you than my teammates.”

That wasn’t even particularly a lie. He tried to find ways to get to know you, but you were a tough nut to crack. He tried so hard to find ways to get in your good graces, and forcing you to hang out with him was the only way he could get you to spend quality time with him.

His flirting was what annoyed you the most. You couldn’t stand it, only because it made a weird feeling erupt in your stomach. “First of all, don’t let them hear that. Second of all, I will never do this again. Ever.”

Franco was a convincer. He was good at getting people to do things, and you were unfortunately, not exempt from that. Even when you were back in your dorms, he’d convinced you to join him at the rinks.

You rarely ever practiced with him, simply opting to watch from the stands. You hated to admit it, but you’d grown to enjoy the time spent with him. When he took breaks, he’d explain the rules to you, different tactics they used, various things.

When you’d get so engrossed in conversation, he’d slip in a question about you, that you’d answer without thinking. He was good at getting to know people, but you were a difficult case. He’d found a way eventually, only getting you to talk about yourself when you were so distracted you couldn’t think long enough to stop it.

“Hockey pucks are actually frozen before games to make them move faster and glide smoothly on the ice, so they don’t bounce a lot.” Franco was rambling about different facts, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip in a question he’d been waiting to ask for weeks.

“Seriously? So they don’t just stay rubbery and lukewarm?” The last part was only slightly sarcastic, but the fact had actually surprised you.

“So.. are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” You pause, wait—what? You don’t get an opportunity to ask any further questions because he was already onto the next fact. “Franco!” You snap, interjecting his next rant.

Francos eyebrows raise slightly, “yeah?”

You narrow your eyes, licking your lips. “You just asked if I was seeing someone. Then—you know what. That doesn’t matter, what does though, is that you just slipped in a question that was not like the others you’ve slipped in.” His face contorts and you laugh, “i’m going to law school, I notice tactics like that.”

The hockey players mouth quirks, he wasn’t even slightly ashamed. “Oh, I love how smart you are.” He hums, “I was just curious. If you were, thank the lord you aren’t, but, he wouldn’t like you hanging out with me.”

“Thank the lord? Seriously?” Your eyes roll dramatically. The wooden bench beneath you feels stiff and uncomfortable the more he watched you with his stupidly smug face.

Franco nods, “hey—“ He begins untying his laces, “you should come to my game tomorrow. You haven’t come in a while.”

The topic switch was noticeable, but you ignore it. “I have a lecture late tomorrow. I’ll probably be tired.” But when Franco’s face changes into that familiar doe-eyed expression, you cave. “Fine! I’ll come! Quit looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are”

“No i’m not.”

“Are too!”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“Are—what?” Your brain stops working, words failing your tongue. Excuse you? “Wait a fucking minute—“

Franco watches you carefully. “Is that a no?”

“No! I mean—“ You were still a stumbling mess. Your mouth opening and clamping shut. “It’s a-well, I mean, It’s a yes! Yes, I will! Jesus, Franco. You couldn’t have asked any smoother?”

He’s smiling, finding your stammering all too amusing… and adorable. It was very cute. “It felt fitting to me.” He shrugs casually, slipping off his skates. “After the game and a shower, the diner you like a few blocks from your dorm?”

That was most definitely something he learned during his not-so-secret questionnaires.

“That sounds perfect.” You huff, “now, can you bring me home? I think i’m developing hypothermia.”

After changing into his regular shoes, he stands, offering you his hand. You take it, though it was with an eye roll. Franco smirks at your reaction, not commenting on it as he helps you to your feet.

“Does your body not ache every time you finish?” You ask as the two of you exit the arena, making your way through the dark parking lot.

You regretted your choice of words the second they left your lips. “Don’t even—“

“I have incredible stamina, actually.” Franco cheeses, slinging his arm around you. You allow it, even leaning into his side.

“You are insufferable.” You scoff, but the twitch of your lips betrayed your feigned annoyance.

The laugh that emits from Francos mouth has a smile growing on your lips, it was a sound you’d grown to enjoy.

Franco opens the passenger door for you, which had you suppressing a smile. It was a gesture he made every trip to the arena, in fact—Franco was very much a gentleman, despite boy boyish he could be.

Only when he was the drivers seat with the engine going and heater ablaze, does Franco finally grow serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, I know you’re sort of a people pleaser.”

Okay, ouch?

Franco’s eyes widen, “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says quickly, stumbling for a way to fix what he said.

You’d never seen Franco have to search for words to say. He was always so smooth and, well, he was never one to falter.

“I know what you meant, and you’re right. But, when have I ever gone out of my way to people please you.” You reassure him, a gentle look on your face. “I want this.”

The rest was history. You want Franco had been going steady for months. Whenever you had enough time in your busy college schedule, you went to his games, you were his number one cheerleader and support system.

Hockey had easily become your favorite sport, you knew everything about it due to Franco’s inability to ever stop talking. Thats probably what made the two of you such a perfect pair. You were quiet, he wasn’t. He was your polar opposite, the yin to your yang. And thats what made it work.

When you didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t there to fill the silence. When he didn’t want to talk, you enjoyed each other’s silence.

You had never thought in a million years, the man who annoyed you oh so much, was the same man you would grow to love.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future franco posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @purinfelix @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby

[ice-cream-writes-stuff]

NRC And RSA

(What if Yuu went to Royal Sword Academy for a Exchange/Transfer student program?)

-

Yuu sat on the plush bed, the private room given to them was rather luxurious than the room they shared in Ramshackle. Little bits of belongings still sat in their luggage, a few trinkets (Y/N) had been packed to remind Yuu of NRC during their stay.

The magicless student smiles at the thought of their dorm and friends. Sighing as they eye the special uniform the RSA students had provided them.

While the rather, “princely” students were rather kind in their greetings, Yuu still didn’t feel all too comfortable. The quiet sounds of the ocean clear their thoughts as they get up from the bed. Peaking outside from the satin curtains, the small waves crashing along the sandy shore. 

After finding out that Yuu would be going to the school alone, Headmaster Crowely graciously offered Yuu a new phone. While you kept the old one. 

“To keep in touch during the trip!” Yuu heard the Headmage state, smiling too sweetly, clearly hiding his true intentions.

Picking up their phone, Yuu skims through the messages you had sent as soon as they left.

Pictures of Grim sleeping in class, pictures of you and Grim sitting next to the first-years at lunch. Then a photo of you, unaware, talking with a nervous student as figures zoom into the scene. Too blurry to make out the familiar uniforms on their persons. 

“Grim probably took that photo…” Yuu laughs. Before a knock is heard on the door. 

Yuu heads over, not before taking a small pick of the ocean.

Opening it up, preppy voices cheer loudly. “WELCOME TO ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY! YUU!”

-

“I miss Yuu…” You bemoan, lightly banging your hands on your face. Groaning in annoyance as Ace side eyes you. “(Y/N), Yuu’s fine. Probably annoyed with all those high-horse RSA students though.” Deuce makes a small sound of agreement. 

Grim munches on his tuna melt, a bit quiet… Which was never a good sign.

-

Yuu sat with Chenya and Neige, a few other students seated with the as well during lunch. The NRC picks at the dishes served as they listen to the small discussions going about. Occasionally giving a small response when a question was asked to them personally.

“Hmm.. Yuu~! I’m curious about something, if you don’t mind me asking..~” Chehnya smiles, eyes bright like a curious cat.

“Yes?”

“How’s (Y/N) doing? I haven’t seen’em in a bit, so I wanted to know.~” Chenya purrs out, laying a lazy hand on Yuu shoulder. Neige, overhearing, beams. White as snow skin becoming a soft pink as they lean in as well. “Oh yes! How are they? I haven’t seen them much since the masquerade event at Noble Bell College.” 

The actors red as rose lips turn into a frown, “My schedule has been so packed I haven’t had time to see them around town..” The boy wilts at the thought of missing his chance to see you as Snick offers him a sympathetic pat on the back. 

Yuu hears more chatter from a few other students popping in to add their own statements about (Y/N).

Rielle, Yuu recalled him from somewhere… Had spoken up. “I’ve seen them around the beach a few times!” 

“Really?”

“Uh-huh!”

Yuu blinks, the conversation becoming bigger than expected. But, they grin just like their fellow NRC friends. 

“Well, (Y/N) is good. I mean, they are Dorm Head of our Dorm, along with meetings with the other Dorm Leaders…  As VICE Leader, we’re with each other often.” Yuu smiles, shrugging. A certain glint in their eye. 

Neige's features become more flustered as he tries to ask another question. Before being interrupted by Yuu’s phone ringing.

-

“GRIM! GIVE IT BACK!”

“No! I wanna’ send Yuu photos of my tuna can tower!”

“Grim!” You try to grab the phone back as Jack follows after, but Grim was surprisingly quicker! Epel manages to corner the fur-ball, “Oi! Ya’cat! Give it up!”

“Epels accent is out! He’s pissed!”

Ortho readies his laser cannon, trying to get the perfect aim. "Grim, stand still please!" Grim shouts to as he tries to figure out away to avoid capture.

“Grim?”

“Yuu!”

“YUU!?”

The first-years shout all together, happy to hear the student.

Sebek grabs Grim by the scruff of his collar, handing him over to you as everyone gathers by the lounge area. Discussing about their day as Yuu talks about their own, “I gotta go guys.. I’ll see you in a couple days!”

“Give’em hell Yuu!”

“Good luck Yuu!”

“See you soon!”

Hanging up the call, Yuu returns back to the lunch table, a satisfied expression on their face. Maybe even a bit sentimental if you looked close enough...

-

[To celebrate the news of Twst FINALLY GETTING THE ANIME SOON. I decided to write a small fic for yall! Enjoy! Thanks for reading! LET ME KNOW HOW I DID! IM SO HAPPY WE GETTING THE ANIME!!!]

[01zfan]

good luck charm | l. sh

basketball player!sohee x physical trainer!reader | 7.5k words

finally a happy sohee fic who cheered? anyways every since the we riize basketball episdoe i've been jonesing to write a basketball player sohee fic.

contains: fwb relationship, pining kinda, sex without a condom (don’t be like them)

You were trapped in another period of doom scrolling when you heard the whistle blown in the gym. Instantly you turned your phone off and got down from the table, throwing your backpack over your shoulder before heading to the door. You did a once over of the room, looking to make sure everything was in its place before turning off the lights and locking the door.

You heard the projected voice of the coach in the gym over the music in your earbuds, but you didn’t rush yourself to hear the ending notes of the practice. Each time it was the same—Get rest, Show up on time for the game tomorrow, Don’t embarrass our team—said to a group of sweating boys who wanted nothing more than to leave. 

You put the keys to the examination room in your pocket the same time you used your body to open up the door to the gym. The door never seemed to get lighter or quieter, the sound of it unlocking echoed off the walls. The team barely spared you a glance as you came in, hearing exactly what you thought you would. The janitors were already coming in to clean up the sweat off the floor and prepare for the game tomorrow. The coach insisted on talking even when the buffer machine came in, whirring and loud on the waxed floors of the court. The basketball team tried their best to focus, but you could see so clearly their minds were starting to wander as their bodies became restless. Some of them sat on the court and others stood, some of them still had their jerseys on and some of them were completely shirtless as they waited for their coach to finally be done.

“I’m surprised you’re still here.” 

Giselle, the student manager, whispered into your ear when you went to stand beside her. She was off to the side, putting away the rolling cart filled with basketballs into the supply room when you started making a beeline to her. Standing next to the coach was just asking for him to put you on the spot, telling you to instruct the team on how to properly take care of their bodies. Ever since that incident you settled for standing off to the side towards the bleachers, out of his line of sight and ear shot. 

“Someone has to stay.” You adjusted the strap on your backpack as you both sat down on the bottom row of the bleachers. “I was the only one left.”

“Doctor Kim left early?” Giselle turned to you and you nodded. She scoffed before leaning back to grab her duffle bag, putting it over her shoulder. She smoothed out her hair and continued looking forward, speaking to you quietly. “I can’t blame him. No one had been getting injured lately.” She said.

“It makes my job really boring.” You added honestly.

Sohee was pulled from another tirade from his coach when he heard Giselle’s laugh. A few members on their team faced the two of you on the bleachers before going back to the coach, but Sohee lingered on you. Honestly he never stopped giving you attention, the moment you walked into the gym he watched you in his peripheral, looking at his coach but focusing on you. It was harder to pull away from your face as you smiled proudly at making your friend laugh before telling her to quiet down. He felt himself smile just by looking at you. He absentmindedly played with the lace of his shoe, his coach’s words being banished to the furthest part of his mind.

“We have a game tomorrow, don’t forget to rub your good luck charms and pray to your God’s tonight.” He said.

Sohee’s attention was all focused on you that he noticed how quickly you snapped your head towards the coach. As if good luck charm was your name and he shouted it, your eyes were widen in attention for a split second before you relaxed. After your eyes found the coach it drifted to Sohee, as if you felt him already looking at you. The sudden eye contact caused you to look away and it caused Sohee to look down at the basketball court. He sat right on the half court line, his finger traced over the thick line before leaning back on his hands. 

“I’ll see you boys tomorrow.” The coach said.

Instantly the atmosphere of the gym changed. As if someone let out a pensive exhale everyone relaxed, someone even cheered that practice was finally over. Sohee stood up from the court and his teammates started going through the doors, filtering into the locker rooms to shower and head home. Sohee watched you and Giselle get up from the bleachers, talking to one another as you two headed straight for the exit. He barely moved from his spot on the court before you were out, pushing your body against the door and leaving it opened with one hand so Giselle could follow after you.

When Sohee made it to the locker room, people were already showering. Some of his teammates omitted the shower entirely, just throwing on their sweats before heading back to their dorms. Sohee couldn’t blame them, many of his teammates were actually going home to rest before the game. Sohee on the other hand didn’t have plans to sleep until way later into the night. He was technically only here in the showers buying time, waiting for you to get to your dorm so he could send you the infamous text.

Before pulling his change of clothes from his duffle bag he pulled out his phone, fingers sliding and tapping over the glass screen before pressing send.

Sohee: i have a game tomorrow.

Almost immediately, he saw you typing a response.

i know sohee

His teammate went to a locker beside him, opening it up before closing it loudly. Sohee was sure he said something to him in passing, but he only offered a head nod before going back to the conversation. He was biting his lip to hide his smile as he thought about you texting him while walking with your friend. He’s made tremendous progress, before you used to not bother texting him until you were completely alone. 

Sohee: you know

Sohee: you’re my good luck charm

Sohee: my biggest fan

Sohee: so i should come over

Sohee: so we can win tomorrow.

The trick was to send you a flurry of texts at once. He didn’t know if multiple messages loosened you up but it always worked in his favor. Sohee leaned against the open door of his locker seeing the text bubble appear at the bottom, already knowing what it was going to say. He already had the response locked and loaded, his finger resting over the send button. 

my place is a mess.

Sohee: that’s okay.

alright. 

knock when you get here.

Sohee was giddy as he closed the door to his locker and headed to the showers. He couldn’t get rid of the smile on his face as he showered, he grinned while shampoo ran down his face and smiled like an idiot when he was done. He went over your text messages a million times as he walked across campus. To anyone else the alright was ordinary, maybe even less than that. But to Sohee, being able to see your place in disarray or anything else than perfect was the highest honor.

In the beginning when you first started seeing Sohee, he remembered that you apologized profusely for any semblance of a mess. You apologized for a few dishes in your sink and unfolded hand towels. If you couldn’t drop a quarter on the taut sheets of your bed you equated your place to a pig sty. One time when he came over you forced him to wait outside as you cleaned your place. Sohee remembers waiting in the courtyard of your dormitory building, counting the minutes until you finally sent him the text that he was good to come in. You answered the door disheveled and breathing heavy, and when he tried opening your closet for a spare change of clothes you nearly screamed Wait! so the pile of things you couldn’t put away properly wouldn’t be revealed. 

Sohee couldn’t believe it took him three weeks to finally see a mess in your room. He also couldn’t believe how excited he was to see it. He would’ve never thought seeing clutter on your counter space for the first time would bring a smile to his face, that your unmade bed somehow seemed more comfortable than when the sheets were tucked in neatly at the corners. He liked seeing your open textbooks with your messy notes and a week’s worth of unfolded laundry pushed to the corner of your room. He enjoyed seeing your dirty dishes a little too much and seeing your shy face when you quickly bent over to pick up dirty laundry you forgot was there. 

He blames what Anton dubbed his “mess-kink” on the fact that he spent half of the season trying to see the inside of your room. You guys met in too open of a setting, shoulder to shoulder in the living room of a cramped house party one of his teammates threw. For some reason the team thought that the best way to start the season was to pack everyone like sardines into an off-campus apartment and supply everyone with shitty liquor. There were no snacks, no chasers, just extremely cheap vodka and loud music. It was a perfect storm and it pushed you right into Sohee, or made you fall into him. One second he was talking to his friends and the next he was turned away from them completely, holding onto your forearm to keep you upright.

“You good?” Sohee slurred.

Sohee turned quickly to his friends, but they didn’t notice his absence in the conversation. No one could’ve noticed anything. people were practically stacked on top of eachother in the tiny space, pushing one another as they rocked to the music. Sohee truthfully wasn’t all the way there either. He was never the drinker but he wanted to have a good season, even if it came at the cost of being sick at early morning practice the next day. He was already feeling the effects from the tiny amount he had, and he tried forcing moments of sobriety when he heard the syllables of his words drag. He didn’t know you were even further gone until you were upright but still kept your eyes on the side of his face instead of looking at him in the eyes.

“You good?” He repeated.

“Your moles are pretty.” You said.

Sohee couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Here you were, halfway to the floor but you found more important things on the side of his face, letting your eyes run up and down his cheeks like you were trying to map something. Sohee pulled on your arm but you seemed to be in a trance, only snapping out of it when he spoke to you again.

“Thank you.” Sohee said.

When he lightly pulled on your arm you finally stood up. Sohee looked at your lips, how you chewed on them when you finally started looking at the other parts of his face.

“Are you alright?” Sohee asked you again.

You nodded your head, but Sohee still wasn’t sure if you heard him or not. You had a far off look in your eye, bleary and glassy from all the alcohol. He was sure he matched you, the longer he looked at you the more tipsy he felt. His brief moment of sobriety came and went as you got closer to him, entirely too close for strangers.

“Your moles are really cute.” You said it again, this time right in his ear.

Sohee nodded, and leaned his head closer to yours so he could talk directly in your ear. He focused on the gold jewelry that dangled from your ear and moved each time a swaying body bumped into yours. 

“You told me that already.” He laughed.

You seemed to remember, because you giggled right into Sohee’s ear after a beat of silence. He didn’t know when his hand found the small of your back to hold you close or when your hands went to his shoulder to keep him in place. Both of you were giggling drunk messes, strangers with their cheeks touching in the middle of a house party that was going to get busted by cops any second. 

You pulled away from Sohee first. He didn’t know then that he was hooked on you and that his face felt cold without your warm cheek pressing against his. He felt the heat dust across his face when you looked at him. The same bleary eyes that stared at the side of his face was wide and alert now, staring right through him as you gripped his shoulder a little tighter. You brought another wave of sobriety, and he used his consciousness to let his hand splay even further across your skin. 

You said something, Sohee knew you did. Your bitten lips moved and then they stopped, and when you were done your eyes scanned his face waiting for an answer. He tried focusing his swaying vision on your lips, but he only found himself getting more distracted. Eventually he shook his head and brought his face close to yours again.

“I can’t hear you.” Sohee took his chance to press his cheek against yours more than he needed to. “The music is too loud.” He said gently.

He felt you nod against his head and suddenly the red solo cup that was in your hand was gone as you brought your newly freed hand to his face. You turned his head slightly and came even closer than before. Sohee could feel your lips against the shell of his ear as you spoke.

“I asked if this was your place.” You said.

Sohee felt one of your hands drift to the crook of his neck, resting there heavily as you spoke. In the midst of the party he was able to still focus on your words, even if they registered slowly. He shook his head against your face, and Sohee felt your warm breath fan his ear as you let out a breathy giggle.

“Do you know somewhere we can be alone?” You asked.

Sohee didn’t need anymore hints from you before he was pulling you through the packed crowd by your hand. He told himself he would just have to ask for forgiveness from Anton later when he opened his friends locked bedroom door. 

The door barely closed behind Sohee before you had your hands on him. Within seconds the back of Sohee’s legs bumped against the couch, and you used clumsy drunken force to push him down the rest of the way. The surprise nearly knocked the breath out of him, his hand instinctually went to the armrest of the couch for some stability. 

He watched you walk towards him from your place, something between a lion stalking its prey and a newborn deer taking its first steps. You giggled realizing the sway in your steps and Sohee did the same after readjusting himself in his seat.

He realized quickly that nothing was funny when you put your knees on either side of him to straddle his waist. He took in a breath when your hands clasped together behind his neck. He held you steady despite the thudding in his chest and the look in your eyes that became even more hungry. When you leaned further Sohee took the chance to snake his hand underneath the fabric of your tight shirt, feeling your soft skin the material clung to. 

When Sohee let his hand drift up further and you preened further into his touch he looked up at you fully. When his neck exposed you stared at his bobbing Adam’s apple before licking your lips. Your eyes went even lower, and he settled into the couch to get a better look at you. He held onto this wave of sobriety, trying to not fall back into the drunk haze he was drifting in and out of. But he couldn’t stop the dim light behind your head from swaying. You moved and the light casted a shadow behind you that looked like a crown; Sohee dug his hand deeper into your waist to try and ground himself as he tried remembering what it felt like to be sober. He felt your hand tug at his hair and he started gripping at whatever flesh he could grab.  

Both of you were smiling at eachother like drunk fools, neither of you making a move. When Sohee finally made it to your chest he palmed it, pressing deep over the padding of your bra. You reacted like there was nothing separating the two of you, leaning back so far that Sohee had to wrap his full arm around you to keep you from falling backwards. You leaned into his touch fully, coming so close that his face pressed into your stomach. Sohee placed an experimental sloppy kiss on the exposed skin, patting himself on the back when your breath hitched. You came close and pressed an equally sloppy kiss to his hairline, then to his cheek, then to a mole. You ended at his ear, your hot breath fanning the shell as you poked your tongue out. Sohee shivered underneath you and pulled you closer, widening his legs so you had more space to sit. He waited in anticipation when your face settled into the crook of his neck.

But he felt nothing.

Sohee thought that you were building up tension, or that you had another wave of sobriety that made you realize you were about to have a drunk hookup with an equally drunk basketball player in a not so secluded space at a house party. Sohee was getting ready to pull away from you and ask you if you were okay, but then he heard the unmistakable sound of snoring. Sohee laughed in disbelief on the couch with you snuggling deeper into him and even groaning that he was disturbing your sleep.

Your encounter that night ended then and there, with Sohee delicately taking you off his lap and going back into the crowded house party to find your friends and lead them to you.

He thought that he would never see you again, but he heard from you shortly after. Your first message to him was over Instagram direct messages, apologizing for how you behaved the night prior. After he accepted your apology, he came to the realizationg that you were going to be his teams trainer and he would be seeing you everyday of the season.

From the first day of practice, Sohee could tell you were so put together. Even when put on the spot by his coach you spoke evenly, inviting his team to come to you if they had any questions about keeping their body healthy. You were also so elusive, tucked away in the examination room everyday while practice was happening. The only time Sohee was actually able to see you was during parties when the two of you would sneak off together to secluded rooms.

For a long time Sohee believed that he was destined for a life of fucking you on sofas at crowded college parties. He didn’t know how many That doesn’t look like dried cum’s and No, it doesn’t smell like sex in here’s he had left in him. But as if the God’s shined down on him he got the unmistakable hey, are you up? text right when he needed you the most. Instead of sleeping Sohee threw on a pair of sweats and cleared the campus to get to your place embarrassingly fast. 

You let him in that night without actually letting him in. Sohee was only shown the sparkling bits of your personality, you two truthfully only really spoke when you were having sex. He found himself asking casual questions about your life in between moments of you two making out and grabbing at eachother.

He spent the season chiseling away at you through teasing to try and get you to be comfortable. So coming into your room and seeing the unfolded clothes was arguably more rewarding than a flawless basketball season. 

He had to fight the smile when he made it into your room, his hands running over and screwing with anything he could touch. He always picked up your keys from the dish beside your door and messed with the trinkets you had hanging down. He started locking and unlocking your door repeatedly, just to hear the metal bolt ring through your entryway. 

“The season is almost over.” Sohee walked past you, already putting his hands on your dresser. 

He ran his hands over the top, not caring that he bumped the items that rested in his path. He only turned back to you with a gloating smile. Sohee turned back to continue messing with your things. After he ran his hand over your dresser he went to your desk, passing by you as you stood in front of the door. He got to your desk and started pushed your pens, messing up their order and dragging your papers from one end of your desk to the other.

“I know Sohee.” You said as you started putting everything back in place behind him.

Each time Sohee’s finger pushed a pencil you put it back in its case and when he opened one of your textbooks to a random page you reached across his body to close it. He leaned into your pushes, he even played it up like his body was actually being knocked around by your gently bumping. 

Seeing how far he could push you was always a game to him, he only giggled when you smacked away his hand when he started fiddling with the straps of your backpack that hung off your office chair. 

“We’ve had a nearly perfect season.” He said.

“Congratulations.” You neatly stacked your textbooks back on top of eachother. “I told you that you’d do great this season. Alot of really talented athletes.” You said while fixing the straps of your backpack.

“You know why right?”

Sohee felt the corner of your desk poke into his leg as he leaned against it. He caught your eye for a second before you turned back to your desk, fixing the things he touched.

He was relaxed even from the dull pain of the wood, looking down at the furrow in your eyebrows while you carefully reorganized everything back to its place. He silently watched you go from your desk to the space surrounding your bed, moving things from one side of your room to the other. You had your unfolded clean clothes resting on top of your bed, and Sohee watched you gather the clothes in your arms before walking over to your office chair that he stood next to.

“If you say it’s because of me, I’m going to hit you.” You say.

Sohee eyed you with the large mass of clothes in your hands, the pile obstructing your line of sight. He put his hand on the armrest of your chair, getting ready to push it out of your way right before you dropped the clothes onto the seat. Before he could, he saw a pair of your underwear fall from the large pile of clothes. He took his hands away from the chair and grabbed it, balling it in his hands before showing you what he caught.

“Can I keep these?” When you put the clothes in the chair you narrowed your eyes at Sohee and reached for the pair he quickly pulled it out of your reach. “For good luck?” He added.

You let your pile of clothes fall onto the chair before grabbing your underwear out of Sohee’s hands. You put your underwear on top of the pile of clothes. When Sohee pouts at you you close the distance between the two of you. You don’t hesitate to put your hands on either side of his body, caging him between your desk and you. 

Sohee tries to be all talk. His teammates constantly comment on his attitude and habit of snarky comments. He always blames it on the fact that he is the youngest sibling out of sisters, he basically can’t help it. But when you get too close and are pressed up against him like this, he loses his train of thought. He doesn’t have a comeback when you look down at his lips and stay there, he doesn’t have anything to say when you fake pout before looking back up at him.

“I thought I was your good luck charm?” You say.

Sohee nods his head. You somehow find a way to get even closer to him, despite still feeling so far away. He sees the remnants of your lipstick, he feel the warmth coming off of you in waves. Sohee finds himself inching closer to you, then he feels you finally touch him. Your hands let go of the edges of your desk to go to his forearms, then slowly all the way up to his shoulders. All cockiness Sohee had dissipates from his body when he feels your hands travel the plane of his shoulders, ending right at the base of his neck. His hands instinctively go to your waist, and he fully leans against your desk to slot his leg between yours. Instantly, like Sohee’s thigh is a seat made just for you, you put your weight on his leg. Sohee sighs at the feeling of your warmth against him, and you sigh from the pressure.

You were still feeling Sohee up when you started dragging your hips against his. He wasn’t sure why watching you grind on his thigh was doing so much to him, but he was already feeling the ache. He felt you clutch at him, then he felt your hands leave his body to go back to gripping the edge of the desk. You were clumsy this time, your hands wrinkled papers underneath the pads of your fingers and your dragging thrusts on Sohee’s thigh disrupted the perfect order you had set on your desk. Pens and pencils and journals clattered over the sides and fell to your wooden floor, the wood creaked underneath your shared weight. Sohee watched you press your head into his shirt, he could feel your spit seep through the thin material and your tiny whines fill the air. Sohee was beginning to feel himself need more but you were becoming so reckless that he had to move his hand to grip the edge of your desk too. 

His palm hurt by the time your moans became too whiny. His other hand reached forward to still your hips, and you pulled your face from his chest to look at him. Your eyes were already so wet, your face was already getting the light glow caused by a thin layer of sweat.

“Slow down.” Sohee was just as overwhelmed, each look from you left his dick pressing against the fabric of his sweats. “You don’t wanna cum from just that.” He said.

“I want more.” You said.

Sohee didn’t have a chance to calm you down before your hand reached underneath the waistband of his sweats. He could barely wrap his hand around your wrist before the other was working his pants down his body. Any sounds of shock or teasing was swallowed up by your lips smashing against his again.

When your hands pushed his pants down to his thighs Sohee took the initiative to move them the rest of the way. He stood up from your desk and let you continue devouring his face as his hands greedily pushed down his pants the rest of the way.

He was admittedly wound up by you. Feeling you abandon your inhibitions in your messy room made him reckless. He almost fell when he tried stepping out of his sweats and his imbalance caused you two to stumble through the tiny space in your room. Sohee was only able to regain his balance when he leaned up against the edge of your desk again.

Unfortunately any attempt Sohee was trying to make to get you to slow down was futile. Him leaning against the desk gave you a slight height advantage on him, and you somehow found a way to kiss him even deeper. With your hands on his face moving him the way you wanted to while you were fully clothed and he was pant-less made him red in the face.

“There’s too much shit on my bed.” You said in between kisses.

That wasn’t the first time Sohee has heard those words fall from your lips. Sohee has fucked you on your couch when there were clothes piled from one end to another. He’s fucked you on your desk while you were in the middle of an assignment, papers stacked high and textbooks cracked open as he bent you over the wooden surface. He’s fucked you in the bathroom you shared with the people on the other side of your wall when your room was messy. At this point he was used to the chaos he was starting to think he preferred it. 

But before Sohee could tell you he didn’t care, he felt your hands pull him from the edge of your desk down to the ground. 

This was new. 

“You wanna do it here?” Sohee asked breathlessly.

You nodded in between the kisses your placed on his neck. He couldn’t argue even when the wood floors were already becoming a pain on his bent knee. Sohee couldn’t deny the sureness in your eyes or the way your hands went to the bottom of his shirt before pulling upwards.

By the time Sohee took his shirt off you were already undressing yourself, pants and underwear gone in one go before you took your own shirt off. Sohee took off his boxers and tossed his clothes on the same pile you made, right next to another pile of clothes he assumed to be dirty.

“Right here.” You answered.

When he was unsure what to do next you went ahead and pushed him by his shoulders, leading him down until his beck was flush with your cold hardwood floors. Sohee let out a shiver and a breath.

“You cold?” You asked.

Sohee nodded as you started straddling him. He could feel the warmth from your naked body, warming the areas of him that were cooling from the nervous sweats across his skin. 

Your smile when he nodded was almost sinister. Sohee still couldn’t stop himself from smiling back at you.

Sohee’s cold hands find your thighs as you bring your hips to rest on his. The sudden change in his body temperature causes him to shiver again, the feeling of his dick between your warm cunt causes more precum to leak onto his lower stomach. He doesn’t think he can handle you grinding on him, not if he wants to maintain the last bit of the composed demeanor he tries to present to you. He just grips your thighs harder, and his outstretched leg bumps into the edge of your desk.

He can see you trying to figure out what to do next. If you should draw out this torture or have mercy on him, if you should coo at him affectionately or taunt him some more. Sohee watches your eyes flicker to the top of your dresser, where there was always a pile of condoms stacked on top. Every week you’d snag a handful from the on campus clinic in between your classes. Stuffed in the depths of your backpack just to be carelesslt dumped on your dresser. Preparation for when you’d bless Sohee for his basketball games, preparation you were disregarding now.

For a moment you’re silent. Sohee is too, letting you decide how he gets it tonight. He won’t complain unless you want him too, he won’t beg unless he sees that glimmer in your eyes that eggs him on. Your hips slowly drag forward, and his eyes instantly screw shut. He can feel your slick coat him, and the wet sound causes Sohee’s dick to twitch.

“I’ll warm you up.” You say.

Sohee’s hips lift to follow yours when you raise them off his lap. His dick twitches upwards right into your soft hand. 

“Baby.” Your hand dragged the tip of his dick over your folds. He could feel how wet you were on his sensitive skin, causing his hand to dig deeper into your side. Sohee looked up from where you had your hand wrapped around him to the smile on your face. “You ready?” You purred.

Sohee can no longer speak. His mouth is too dry and his brain is too jumbled to form a coherent thought. He only nods slowly and grips your waist tighter, your skin peeking through the gaps of his fingers as you nod back to him. There's a stillness, where you are moving your body slightly forward to be directly above him. Then, holding intense eye contact, you slowly start sinking your hips down. Sohee can feel your walls wearing on his tip first, tight and constricting before you two let out twin sighs. Then, when you adjust yourself on your knees and place a hand over his you loosen up. The rest of Sohee's dick slips inside of you with ease, and when he is completely inside of you he can feel your walls close around him snug. Being inside of you is the same as a weight getting lifted off his chest, so soothing but titillating it causes him to let out another sigh of relief and cinch his eyebrows together. 

For a split second he lets go of you completely, all of his strength is focused in not embarrassing himself right there on the messy floor of your dorm. He rests his hand in a balled up fist over his thudding heart, eyes still screwed shut as he feels and hears you sink down lower. Your sigh was prolonged and ended with a cry when your hips meld with his. Sohee opens his eyes when he feels your hips grind, he watches you selfishly chase stimulation while he gets used to the raw feeling inside of you. He dares to look down where the two of you meet, and almost instantly the dizzying feeling is back.

“Keep going.” Sohee says in a daze.

You nod your head as you raise your hips again. The second time you sink down is louder than the first, and you lean forward to put your hands on Sohee’s chest to stabilize yourself. Your socks rub on the sides of Sohee’s thighs as you slowly find your rhythm, alternating between bouncing and grinding on his dick. 

After finding a rhythm you get lost in the speed. Sohee watches the momentum you have on your chest and your desperate attempt to keep them in place. When your arm spread across your chest fails to do the trick, Sohee finds himself regaining his sanity to come to your aid. Almost instantly his hand takes your place, holding a handful of your chest in each of his palms. He almost uses the hold to guide you up and down, following your body with each flick of your hip and each bounce.

“So soft.” Sohee says.

“Can you suck on them?” You ask.

With your hands moving to his shoulders and guiding him up it’s easy. Sohees’ core muscles are no longer sore from months of practice when he closes the distance between your chest and his mouth. Your nipple lays on his tongue perfectly, and the arch in your back is made just for his hands as you preen into his mouth.

“Feels good.” You sigh.

He can’t stop his dick from pathetically throbbing inside of you when the praise falls from your lips. He can’t stop himself from sucking harder when he feels your hand go to the top of his head to rub his scalp. Sohee knows that you’re far away from ever calling him your good boy, he’s knew you for the better half of a year before you let him see your inclination for disarray. But he hopes that fucking you raw on the floor of your messy room is helping bridge the gap. Maybe by the end of next season he could get you to say one of the things you so clearly wanted to say during sex. Maybe your room was always so dirty to compensate for the absolute filth you kept suppressed in the depths of your mind.

But that was all just speculation. What Sohee knew for certain was that when you slightly pulled at his hair was when you wanted him to switch sides. So he unlatched from one side of your chest with a soft wet sound to move to the other. He still gave the other side attention, rolling the wet bud between his thumb and index finger. Sohee felt himself lose his bearings when you continued to ride him. With your hands braced on his shoulders he bent forward to follow you, and when you clamped around him his teeth grazed your sensitive nipple. You seized around him again and your hand in his hair pulled at his roots. For a second the sudden pain almost made Sohee’s teeth latch onto you harder, but with his last shred of common sense he detached from your chest entirely. The sound he made the second time was alot less quiet, a lewd sound mixed with your moans and the slick sound of your cunt riding his dick.

He got the courage to look down at where you two met again, with one hand keeping himself propped up Sohee watched you take him again and again.

“My God.” He didn’t hide his amazement. His jaw was slack as you rode him with a vigor he has never seen before. “Keep going, baby. Just like that.” He said quietly.

Sohee watched you pull one of your hands that was shoulder move forward. Before you got the chance to rub tight circles on your clit Sohee reached first, bumping your hand out of his way in the process. Your heavy lidded eyes perked in amusement, right before they screwed shut from Sohee’s ministrations.

“I thought you were going to make me do all the work.” You whined.

The teasing edge to your voice was all the way gone as Sohee continued working his fingers. You missed him shaking his head, you missed him biting his bottom lip in concentration. 

You didn’t open your eyes until Sohee started flicking his hip upwards to meet your dropping hips. He was almost compelled to look away from how intensely you were staring at him. Despite being laid bare he felt naked underneath your gaze, like you stripped him of everything. Sohee suddenly had no other purpose besides fucking you, moving his fingers in a tight circle, and keeping his eyes on you. You abandoned your job of bouncing on him, instead only grinding on his dick and clutching his legs even tighter. 

“Close.” You moaned.

Sohee nodded and told himself a million times to not speed up his fingers. He kept the same pace despite wanting to bring you to the edge as fast as possible. He kept his eyes on you and your body, looking for the signs in your hips that were becoming more erratic and your fingernails that were digging into his skin. In your pursuit of pleasure your guard fell all the way down. You were naked for him too, your hopeless pout and unbounded sounds were winding him up beyond his control.

“I’m close too.” Sohee said quickly.

His fingers didn’t stop and neither did your hips. His mind went to the condoms on your dresser but your eyes stayed on him, big and glossy as his words registered. You licked your bitten lips, opened your mouth just to shut it and then opened it again.

"Inside. Please.” You said.

“Are you sure?” He asked.

Just the invitation made Sohee ready to burst. He spoke fast and in a haste, wanting to give himself enough time to lift you off of his dick in case you changed your mind. But your hips showed no signs of stopping and you lazily pitched your body forward to press your lips to his.

Sohee only felt a sloppy kiss on the corner of his mouth and his cupid’s bow before you cursed against his lips. He felt your hips freeze and your walls clench around him. He was no match for the sudden flood of wetness from your cunt and the hot pants of air in his open mouth. He felt himself spill inside of you less than a second later. His hands left your clit and inside wrapped around your waist, bringing your chest to his as his back went to the ground.

Both of you desperately rode out your highs chest to chest while Sohee’s back was to the floor. He felt garments of clothing underneath his back as he rutted into you, and your hand reached forward to grab onto the wooden frame of your bed. 

The time it took you two to ground yourselves was embarrassingly long. Your chests were practically glued together from sweat by the time your breath evened, and it happened all over again when you weakly lifted yourself off of Sohee’s dick. His shaking hand on your waist guided you to the ground next to him, and for a minute you two laid together in the mess Sohee was lucky enough to be invited into.

Both of you stared at the same place on the ceiling before Sohee turned to face you.

“You’re gonna be at the game tomorrow, right?” Sohee asks.

“Sohee, I am the trainer. I have to be there.” You answer.

Sohee watches you pull a new sweater back over your head, covering up your bare chest. The sweater has his basketball teams name, it’s the one he gifted you that has his number and name on the back. He can’t hide his smile as you lay back down next to him on the floor.

“Would you still go?” Sohee looks at your fallen pens and notebooks on the floor. “Even if you didn’t have to be there?” He asks.

You think about it for a moment. Sohee looks at the messy pile of clothes that fell from your chair at some point, the untidy stack of books that rest on your dresser. He doesn’t want to leave. He’s too comfortable here, too happy staring at you carefully think of an answer to his question that wouldn’t let him know what you’re thinking.

“I’d still go.” You uselessly kick towards some of your clean clothes that fell from your chair at some point. After you get a sock successfully back on the chair you turn to face him. “I’m your good luck charm. I think you’d lose without me.” You say.

Sohee will take it. He will gladly take him being the one and only person in your life that you bring good luck to. That is something akin to more than friends with benefits, or maybe it’s the purest form of whatever this arrangement is. Whatever the case may be it brings Sohee enough peace to sleep soundly, and he feels like he has enough luck to win the game all by himself. He leans forward to kiss you and you don’t turn away. You let the kiss be planted right on the tip of your nose before he faces the ceiling again, and Sohee ends up having to hide his smile behind his hands the same way you hide it by clearing your throat.

“Maybe if we win.” He goes to his tiptoes before going back to the balls of his feet. “Maybe if we win we could go out somewhere. Like watch a movie or something.” He says.

Instantly you shake your head, reaching to the side to playfully smack his shoulder. Sohee fakes like you hit him roughly, taking a step backwards with a faux pained expression on his face.

“Even if you lose. Which I doubt will happen.” You take a deep breath and turn your head away. “I’ll think about it.” You say quietly.

There is absolutely no way he’s losing his game tomorrow. 

[wonsroyalty]

predictable, 박종성

pairing/warnings - 2.3k,, spider-man!jay x f!reader, college/uni students, switch!jay x switch!f reader,, smut, blood, wounding 🔥

a/n: no fancy theme because i’m writing this on a whim: inspired by this tiktok i saw earlier, no doubt mv has actually changed me and i loveeeeee jay so enjoy🤗

You sat in your bedroom tapping your pen unconsciously at your desk.

“I need the report in for tomorrow, Yn. You’ve already had a week.”… You remembered the head of the school newsletter scolding you earlier.

How on earth did she think that you could gain access to the football team in order to ask them about their frat lifestyle AND write up everything from your seven-hour interview as a small section in such a short amount of time.

You thought back to your best friend Jay.

He’d always had a way with words and you knew that if he were with you he’d say something like, “Sunghoon said he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because he literally threw himself at you during this interview, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame loser who doesn’t get any hoes because I fucked around and found out’, done!”

A giggle slipped from your lips at the thought of imaginary Jay but you quickly gained composure because the thought of having to pull an all nighter, in order to finish, didn’t seem appealing.

And the fact that Jay had turned down your plan of him helping you because he claimed he had “important business” whipped you into shape.

Ding!

7 messages from mother🐻

hey pumpkin!

i may be later than usual tonight

just been told to prep for emergency surgery

left your dinner in the oven to heat up

first aid kit above the front cabinet

don’t hurt yourself pls!!!

love you bye 🥰

You reacted with a heart and wished her luck then threw your phone onto your bed.

The upper half of your body slumped onto the desk.

“I’m so screwed.” you whispered in defeat.

Your phone then began to ring causing a loud groan to leave your throat as your body lugged itself to the source.

“Hey Jay, what’s up?” you sighed. “What do you want?”

“Open your window.” he panted out.

You could hear sirens in the background and Jay didn’t sound too good.

“Whats happening right now? Are you okay?”

“Open the window, please.” he begged. “Trust me, just open it!”

“I don’t trust you.” You joked. “Besides which one would I open, there’s three.”

Jay started shouting at someone on the other end of the line.

“Fuck!” he groaned in agony. “The- the one facing central park.”

“Uh.. okay. I just did it.”

“Step back! Like backkkk.” he warned.

“Moving back as I speak.” you sighed. “Is this the super important thing you had to do?”

You had spoken too soon.

A man precisely shot his body through the gap of your window then slammed it shut behind him and slumped onto the ground.

“Spider-man?! What the..” you stepped towards him tentatively. “Are you- wait Jay! Oh my, I think he’s hurt.”

You began to type out a message to the boy when Spider-man ripped his mask off.

“Jay Park?! You have got to be shitting me!” you gaped. “What the fuck?!”

Jay winced in pain as he shot a web at your jumper to pull you down towards him.

He’d pulled you off balance and while your legs straddled his hips, your hands fell onto the gaping wound in his abdomen.

“Stay down.” he whined. “Can’t let them see.”

“Them..?” you mouthed.

“I was in the middle of a fight.” he rolled his eyes. “Obviously.”

“We’re gonna talk about this later, I need to close that up.” you glared at him.

His head hit the wall behind him as he began to register the state he was in.

You crawled out of the room and ran over to the cabinet that your mother left the first aid in. Nimble fingers turning the oven and a timer on your way out so that Jay would have something to eat before he left.

If any other friend of yours were in this situation, you would’ve patched them up, scolded them and sent them on their way.

But with Jay, you always wanted to keep him around because you… liked him.

You had to stop yourself from checking him out when you got back to your room, he’d pulled his suit down to his hips, toned stomach on display.

“You sure you know what you’re doing..?” he frowned.

Instead of responding you shoved a piece of cloth into his mouth.

“Bite on it.”

Jay used his free hands to pull the cloth out. His hands reached into the box to grab a painkiller and swallow it dry.

“Ew.” you sneered. “I have water..”

He ignored you. “There’s nothing in the wound, I already checked.”

Taking alcohol, you cleaned the outside of the wound and prepped your synthetic polymer fibres.

As soon as the cool metal pierced Jay’s skin he began to squirm around.

His jaw flexed as he groaned out in pain.

“Please stop moving, Jay,” you begged. “It’s gonna hurt more if you keep moving.”

Despite your plea, he continued to twist and turn.

You groaned in frustration.

“Stop moving!”

The cloth was placed in his mouth again and you got up onto your knees to snatch the scarf that dangled off your bed frame.

Your hands grabbed his wrists and tied them behind his back, double knotting the scarf so that he wouldn’t move.

Jay thrashed around trying to rip out of the restraints.

“Okay, calm down, I’m starting again,”

You slowly but surely sutured the wound and wrapped his waist in a bandage.

Jay whimpered.

“Huh?” your head snapped up as you took the cloth out of his mouth.

Without missing a beat, he leaned forward and kissed you.

Your fingers automatically made their way into his hair as you licked along his bottom lip.

He opened his mouth and pressed his tongue flat against yours before fighting for dominance in your mouth.

You couldn’t get enough. Your lungs gasped for air as you continued to practically eat his face off.

Subconsciously you lowered your hips onto his, rolling to get friction from his semi hard on against your pulsing core.

“Fuck.” he whimpered. Again.

“Always whining,” you teased him. “Never thought you’d be such a bottom, Jongie.”

He ripped the scarf as he broke free from the restraints.

Now you were the one whining.

“All I did was rip the scarf and you’re already dripping into my lap, who’s the real bottom here?” he mocked you with a fake look of shock all over his face. “Always wanted to have you under me..”

His words had your hips rutting against his, pathetic moans leaving your throat.

“Do I even have to do anything or will you get off just like this?” he grinned, marking up your neck.

A faint beeping broke you out of your trance.

“AHHHH! THE OVEN!”

You got up immediately, ignoring the way your fuzzy cat pyjamas clung to your lower body, and ran to the kitchen.

Thankfully the food wasn’t burnt but you clutched your heart as Jay launched himself onto your waist.

“I meant to say thank you.” he whispered.

His fingers made their way to where you needed him most, circling your clit through the fabric.

“Yeah- right. You.. You’re welcome.” you moaned at the end of your sentence, the pressure building up.

“Is this okay..?” he asked.

“Yes.” you nodded.

Jay pulled away laughing at your protest.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

You kept your lips shut. There was no way in hell that you were gonna submit to him so easily.

“Come on, baby.” he stared down at you through half lidded eyes. “Tell me where you want me..”

You shook your head, stubbornness radiating off your body.

“Is it here?” Jay asked.

His fingers unbuttoned your shirt, gasping at your uncovered chest as he tugged at your nipples.

A loud whine left your lips.

“Sensitive.. I see.” he looked determined.

“I’m not.” you grumbled.

He grazed your left nipple with his teeth, fondling the other with his warm hand.

“Fuck.” you moaned as his wet tongue circled the sensitive spot.

“You’re not huh?” he shook his head at your lie.

“Jay please.” you whined, hips chasing his.

“Please what?” he leaned away.

You swallowed your pride for the sake of your pleasure.

“I need you.” you moaned. “Need your fingers inside me.”

Jay lowered his head as an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit his body. He always knew that he’d liked you, but those words sent him over the edge.

He needed to have you immediately.

“Say it again.” he growled.

Once his lust filled eyes made eye contact with yours, you clenched your legs together.

“I need you so bad, Jay.” you whined.

He manhandled your body onto the kitchen counter, ripping off your pyjama bottoms and underwear in one go.

His tongue licked a stripe up your dripping hole, collecting the slick that leaked out.

Jay closed his eyes, taking in the taste.

“You taste so fucking good.” he whined.

Without missing the chance to take advantage of his submissive state, you tugged at his hair.

“Fuck..” he moaned loudly.

“You’re so hot.” you whimpered.

Seeing him like this made you feel a certain way.

He eagerly embraced your clit with his tongue and shoved his fingers into your cunt. They scissored you open before curling into you at a rapid pace.

Your hips thrashed up, chasing your high, not even caring about the loud sounds leaving your mouth and lewd sounds coming from Jay.

“You close?” he asked between moans.

You nodded, unable to form proper sentences.

“You have to ask.” Jay firmly stood his ground.

“Jay, please. Please let me cum!” you pathetically begged.

“Okay, princess.” he nodded. “Come for me..”

The orgasm hit you like five trucks, it truly felt never ending as Jay helped you through it.

Once your body recovered, you jumped down onto shaky legs attacking Jay’s lips as you pushed him backwards.

He absentmindedly followed the direction, tripping backwards as his legs made contact with your bed.

“Close your eyes.”

Jay made himself comfortable, lying down with his eyes closed.

“Wait- what!” his eyes shot open.

You’d handcuffed him to the headboard.

“Now why do you have these..” he questioned.

“Was saving them for when you’d come around.” you whispered into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “Now i’m gonna help you, with your little problem.”

You gestured to the way his cock painfully throbbed in the tight material of his suit.

“It’s not a little problem- Shit.”

He closed his eyes as you grabbed at his crotch.

You left kisses down his body, licking his abs before pulling the rest of his suit off.

His cock slapped up against his stomach causing him to moan loudly.

“How are you so wet..?” you questioned in awe, staring at him in disbelief.

“Stop staring at me..” he blushed.

“You weren’t lying about this not being a little problem.” you praised, licking a stripe along the underside. “You’re so big, so thick.”

Jay’s hips thrusted up, more precum leaking out.

“Please.. help me.” he cried.

“Don’t cry, baby,” you wiped away the tear that left his eye, babying him. “I’ll help you.”

Instead of sucking him off, you lowered your hips onto his dick.

Jay felt like he was going to explode.

“Fuck! You’re so tight,” he moaned.

The stretch had your eyes rolling back.

Hands falling onto his chest for support, you slowly found your own pace to bounce at.

“Please let me touch you..” he begged.

“No.” you scolded. “I’m going to go at my pace and you’re gonna get off this way.”

Tears were fully streaking down his face at this point.

His balls were heavy and tip throbbing, the sensation being too much for him to handle.

You continued to bounce on him, eyes closing at the pleasure of his thickness rubbing against your walls.

The moans leaving your throat increased in volume as slick gushed out of your pussy. The thought of using Jay had you excited.

Seeing you on top of him, using him for your own pleasure had Jay going insane.

He broke out of the handcuffs and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Fuck! Jay, right there!” you cried out in surprise.

His palms smacked at your ass, rapidly pushing you back onto his dick.

“Wait.. wait I wanna see your face when I cum.” he whined, flipping your body over.

Your legs rested on his shoulders as you cried at the newer, deeper angle.

His balls smacked against your ass as he slammed his hips against yours.

“Jay, I can’t,” you moaned.

“Yes you can.” he growled. “I’m so close.”

His hips began to falter before they stilled, shooting cum deep inside you.

You came right after him, his whines and moans setting you off.

Jay slumped onto your body, cradling your face with his hands.

“I like you so so much.” he confessed, kissing you sweetly.

“Well I think I’ve liked you for longer.” you laughed.

“If you say so.” he giggled, hugging your chest. “That was so good, I don’t think I’ll ever let you have anyone other than myself.”

“Same here.” you played with his hair. “WAIT FUCK MY PAPER!”

THE END.

~

bonus scene:

After getting cleaned up and eating (Jay forced you to) you sat on his lap at your desk, typing onto your desktop computer.

He read out the transcript and helped you summarise it into text.

“Sunghoon says that he’s ditching his playboy rep to focus on himself, weirdo because I remember him throwing himself at you during this interview hoping that you’d give him attention, you can simplify it to ‘I’m a lame ass bitch who doesn’t get any hoes’ he truly did fuck around and find out!”

You laughed at his words.

“I knew you’d say something like that.”

He snuggled up to your back.

“So I’m getting predictable now, huh…”

You shook your head. “Never..”

“Guess our date will have to be something you wouldn’t expect.”

He was right, you really didn’t expect lunch on top of Brooklyn Bridge.

[maxdibert]

“Sirius killed people-“ so did Snape, supposedly loved Lily but betrayed her location to Voldemort because he was jealous of James actually winning her heart, not to mention convincing Harry the abuse was his fault, nearly giving Neville PTSD to the point where his boggart was Severus Snape himself, being a racist pos to anyone born of muggle parents, and becoming a high ranking member of the death eaters so what? He could protect Harry?

“It’s easier to cry in a Ferrari-“

it’s easier to defend a terrible character and play the racism and eat the rich card when you can’t understand context and inference clues that JK Rowling laid out.

What’s easy is inventing canon. What a load of made-up nonsense, mate.

1. Learn to read. I didn’t say Sirius killed anyone, but he did attempt murder. And he did it because he thought it was funny to torture Severus.

2. There’s no evidence that Severus killed anyone before Dumbledore asked him for euthanasia. This is made quite clear when Dumbledore talks about his concern for Draco’s soul, and Severus immediately questions him about his own soul. If Severus is so worried about it, it’s implied he hadn’t killed anyone before—or at least not in cold blood.

3. Have you even read the books? The only person who knew the Potters’ location was Peter. He’s the one who betrayed them.

4. There’s no evidence he was a racist. First off, equating racism with the concept of blood purity not only trivializes a serious social issue but also makes it clear that some of you have no idea what racism is or its history. The discriminatory dynamics and their foundations are completely different. But anyway, putting that aside, there’s no evidence whatsoever that Severus discriminated against Muggle-borns. The only time he makes a comment is during the incident with Lily—which, conveniently, happens when James and Sirius are sexually assaulting him, and Lily seems to smile at James. I don’t think you can judge someone’s ideology based on a comment made in an extremely tense moment. Canonically, Severus doesn’t treat Muggle-born students worse in class or make comments about their heritage. Nor does he badmouth Muggles. At most, he makes condescending remarks—which, let’s be real, all the characters do, even the “good ones,” because they’re ridiculously patronizing toward Muggles.

5. Severus was literally a double agent and reached the highest ranks of the Death Eaters to, yes, protect Harry. That’s literally why. He’s following Dumbledore’s orders. Like, have you read the books, or are you just pulling this stuff from fanfics? 99% of what you’ve said so far is pure fantasy, mate.

6. Yes, love, it’s actually pretty easy for me to defend people whose actions are a direct consequence of their life circumstances, and whose poor decisions were directly influenced by a lack of opportunities, security, and the violence of their environment. In fact, that’s literally my job. That’s what I do for a living.

Look, I don’t give a damn if you’re a Sirius fangirl. You can love a character while admitting he was a massive piece of crap. I love The Penguin, and there’s no way to justify him at all. Like, it’s fine, you know? You also have every right to feel sorry for him—I’m not going to judge you for that or anything. I’m not invalidating other people’s feelings if they think Sirius’s life was super tragic and feel a lot of compassion for him. Everyone has their own feelings and points of empathy. But that’s not the case for me. I don’t feel sorry for him. There’s no excuse for being an abusive bully with sociopathic tendencies toward someone who was canonically in a position of social and economic disadvantage. If Severus had come from a good family, with money and power—or if Sirius had been someone without a name, wealth, or status—then I’d view the situation differently because they would have been on equal footing. But just like the Black family chose Muggle-borns to torture because they knew they could, Sirius chose Severus because he knew he could. He’s a hypocrite and a piece of garbage. At least Bellatrix admitted her tendencies.

[jeonsblackgf-writes]

Hellfire’s Sweetheart | Eddie Munson

summary: the hellfire crew doesnt believe eddie has a girlfriend, he’s more than happy to prove them wrong.

warnings: none

word count: 2,758

pairing: Eddie Munson x black!reader

———————————————————————

Eddie Munson was used to being underestimated. It was practically his life’s anthem. He’d stroll into Hawkins High with his ripped jeans, devil-may-care attitude, and unapologetic love for all things metal, drawing sneers and whispers from teachers and students alike. But there was one thing—no, one person—that would forever remain his greatest triumph: you.

You, the radiant valedictorian of Hawkins High. You, with your perfectly coiled hair and easy, confident smile that left everyone either intimidated or in awe. You, who exuded grace and brilliance in ways that seemed untouchable. And yet, despite all odds, you were his.

And nobody knew.

It wasn’t that Eddie wanted to keep you a secret—not really. But it was easier this way. People would laugh. People would assume it was some elaborate joke. People—most notably his Hellfire Club crew—would never, ever let him hear the end of it.

So, for months, Eddie kept you tucked away in the sacred corners of his world, sharing clandestine dates at the diner, playing mixtapes for you in the van, and sneaking kisses in the woods where no one could see. It was bliss. It was magic. And it drove him insane to hear his friends tease him about his “imaginary girlfriend” every time he so much as mentioned you.

“I’m telling you,” Eddie groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation during a Hellfire Club meeting, “she’s real.”

“Sure she is,” Dustin snorted, stacking his dice in a neat pyramid. “And I’m dating Princess Leia.”

The room erupted in laughter.

Eddie glared at the group, his ringed fingers drumming against the dungeon master’s screen. “You little heathens wouldn’t know real love if it hit you upside the head.”

“I mean, c’mon, Eddie,” Mike chimed in, leaning back in his chair. “You’ve been talking about her for months. If she’s so great, why haven’t we met her?”

“Yeah,” Lucas added with a smirk. “We’d love to meet this mystery girl of yours. Unless, of course…” He paused, his grin widening. “You’re just embarrassed because she’s imaginary.”

“She’s not imaginary!” Eddie bellowed, his voice bouncing off the drama room walls. He shoved a hand through his curls and muttered under his breath, “You guys are impossible.”

“You’re impossible,” Gareth teased, earning a high-five from Dustin.

Eddie bit back a retort. He’d had this conversation more times than he could count, and it always ended the same way—with him retreating in frustration while his friends continued their playful torment. But this time? This time, he had a plan.

The following Friday, Eddie’s nerves were shot. His leg bounced uncontrollably under the table as the Hellfire Club set up for their latest campaign. The guys noticed, of course.

“Dude, you good?” Dustin asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“I’m fine,” Eddie snapped, a little too quickly. “Just… focused.”

“On what? World domination?” Gareth quipped.

Eddie ignored him, glancing at the clock on the wall. You were supposed to arrive any minute now. He’d told you to meet him outside the drama room, and the thought of your arrival had his heart doing somersaults.

The door creaked open, and every head in the room turned.

You stepped inside, radiant as ever, wearing your favorite oversized sweater, a pair of perfectly cuffed oversized jeans, and a fresh paid of timbs you just paid for with your check. Your hair framed your face like a halo, and the faintest trace of gloss sparkled on your lips.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then Dustin broke it.

“Who… is that?”

Eddie grinned, leaning back in his chair like the cat that caught the canary. “Gentlemen,” he said, gesturing toward you with a dramatic flourish, “meet my girlfriend.”

Your smile was warm as you waved. “Hi. I’m Y/N.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“No freaking way!” Mike shouted, his jaw practically hitting the floor.

Lucas blinked at you like you were some kind of mirage. “Wait—you’re Eddie’s girlfriend?!”

“Eddie Munson’s girlfriend?” Dustin repeated, his voice climbing several octaves. He turned to Eddie, his expression a mixture of disbelief and awe. “How did you pull this off?!”

“Hey, now,” Eddie said, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re Eddie freaking Munson!” Gareth exclaimed. “And she’s… she’s…”

“Way out of your league,” Dustin finished bluntly.

You laughed, the sound warm and genuine, and crossed the room to sit beside Eddie. He draped an arm around your shoulders, his grin as smug as ever.

“Believe it or not,” you said, shooting Eddie a playful look, “I happen to like this weirdo.”

“I told you guys,” Eddie said, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “But noooo, you didn’t believe me.”

The drama room had never felt this tense. Normally, the Hellfire Club descended into immediate chaos, their boisterous voices and dice-rolling creating an atmosphere that felt alive. But tonight, it was different.

All eyes were on you, Eddie’s girlfriend, who was now seated comfortably beside him, a serene smile on your face as you took in the boys’ shocked expressions.

Eddie had an arm draped around your shoulders, his usual bravado turned up to eleven. His smirk screamed “I told you so,” but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. He was proud—no, ecstatic—to have you there, and it warmed your heart.

“So…” Dustin finally broke the silence, leaning forward across the table. “How—how did this happen?”

You tilted your head with a soft laugh. “How did what happen?”

“This!” Dustin gestured wildly between you and Eddie. “You’re… you! And he’s… him! No offense, Eddie.”

“Offense absolutely taken,” Eddie grumbled, narrowing his eyes at Dustin.

“I think what Dustin means,” Mike interjected carefully, “is that you’re, like… really smart and pretty and, you know… you. And Eddie’s… Eddie.”

Lucas nodded fervently. “Exactly. You’re Hawkins High royalty. He’s… well…” He trailed off, glancing at Eddie’s Iron Maiden shirt and fingerless gloves. “You get the idea.”

You exchanged a glance with Eddie, who raised an eyebrow as if daring you to answer.

“Well,” you began, leaning forward with an amused smile, “if you must know, Eddie won me over with his charm, wit, and complete lack of shame.”

“Damn right I did,” Eddie quipped, squeezing your shoulder.

“It’s true,” you continued. “He asked me out three times before I said yes. The first time was in the middle of history class—he slid me a note with a doodle of himself playing guitar and the words ‘Go out with me?’ written in giant letters.”

Mike blinked. “And you said no?”

“I thought it was a joke!” you admitted, laughing. “But then he kept trying. The second time, he serenaded me in the hallway with an original song.”

“It was a ballad,” Eddie clarified, his tone mock-serious. “A masterpiece, really.”

“And the third time,” you finished, “he showed up outside my house with a mixtape and a bouquet of daisies he picked from someone’s yard.”

“Old Mrs. Cunningham’s yard, to be specific,” Eddie added.

“By then, I figured he was either crazy or serious—or both.” You glanced at Eddie, your eyes softening. “Turns out, he’s a little bit of both. And I like that about him.”

The boys stared at you, utterly speechless.

“She’s way too good for you,” Gareth finally muttered, breaking the silence.

Eddie smirked. “Yeah, well, she’s mine anyway.”

As the session began, you settled in beside Eddie, watching him transform into the Dungeon Master with an enthusiasm that was both endearing and infectious. He narrated with dramatic flair, his hands gesturing wildly as he painted vivid scenes of danger and intrigue.

You leaned in, whispering, “He’s really into this, huh?”

“Always,” Dustin whispered back, his eyes glued to Eddie. “It’s like his second language.”

Eddie caught the exchange and narrowed his eyes. “Hey, no side commentary from the peanut gallery. This is serious business.”

You laughed, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him. “Sorry, Dungeon Master. Please, carry on.”

He shot you a mock-glare before continuing, guiding the boys through a harrowing encounter with a group of marauding orcs. As the dice rolled and the boys strategized, their initial awe at your presence slowly gave way to curiosity.

“So,” Lucas asked during a lull in the action, “how do you put up with him?”

“Put up with him?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You know, the dramatics, the weirdness, the constant ‘I’m a misunderstood genius’ vibe.”

Eddie gasped, clutching his chest. “Lucas Sinclair, you wound me!”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, smiling. “I think it’s sweet. Eddie’s passionate, and he’s not afraid to be himself. That’s rare.”

Eddie shot the group a smug grin. “Hear that? She thinks I’m rare. Like a collector’s item.”

“More like a one-of-a-kind weirdo,” Dustin muttered, earning a laugh from the group.

At one point during the game, Eddie reached under the table and took your hand, his fingers lacing with yours. It was a small gesture, but it sent warmth flooding through you.

“You okay?” he whispered, leaning close.

“More than okay,” you whispered back. “This is fun.”

“Good,” he said, his eyes soft. “Because I’m pretty sure you’ve just earned legendary status in their eyes.”

You glanced at the boys, who were busy arguing about the best way to approach the next encounter. “They’re sweet,” you said. “A little intense, but sweet.”

“They grow on you,” Eddie said with a grin.

“I can see that.”

By the end of the session, the boys were visibly more comfortable around you, their initial awe replaced with a sense of camaraderie. They peppered you with questions about your classes, your favorite bands, and how on earth Eddie convinced you to date him.

As the group packed up, Dustin pulled Eddie aside.

“Dude,” he said, his voice low. “She’s amazing.”

“I know,” Eddie said, grinning.

“No, like, amazing,” Dustin repeated. “You’d better not screw this up.”

Eddie chuckled, clapping Dustin on the shoulder. “Relax, Henderson. I’ve got this.”

Across the room, you were chatting with Lucas and Mike, who were eagerly showing you their character sheets. Eddie watched the scene unfold, his heart swelling with pride. You fit in perfectly, like you’d always been part of the group.

As you caught Eddie’s gaze, you smiled and mouthed, “I love you.”

Eddie’s grin widened. He mouthed back, “I love you more.”

And in that moment, surrounded by his friends and the girl who had completely stolen his heart, Eddie Munson felt like the luckiest man alive.

The Hellfire Club session transitioned into a scene of pure chaos as the boys dove into a heated debate about their next move in the campaign. Eddie had unleashed a particularly devious trap—a dungeon filled with shifting walls and riddles—and while the group bickered about how to proceed, you found yourself completely enthralled by the dynamic.

“Okay, but if we trigger the trap,” Dustin argued, pointing emphatically at his map, “we’re dead! It’s a bad idea!”

“And if we don’t?” Mike shot back. “Then we’re just standing here waiting for something to kill us anyway!”

Lucas groaned, throwing his hands up. “Why do you always pick the most dangerous options, Mike?”

“It’s not dangerous; it’s bold! There’s a difference.”

As they continued to argue, you leaned toward Eddie, your voice low. “Do they always get this… intense?”

Eddie chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, sweetheart, this is nothing. You should see them when someone loses all their hit points. Last week, Dustin almost cried because a gelatinous cube ate his enchanted dagger.”

Dustin’s head whipped around, clearly having heard. “It wasn’t just a dagger! It was my soulblade! And Gareth laughed at me!”

“Because it was funny!” Gareth shot back, smirking.

Eddie laughed, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “See? Total chaos.”

You smiled, loving every second of it. Their passion reminded you of why you adored Eddie in the first place. He wasn’t afraid to throw himself into the things he loved, and it was clear his friends were the same.

“Alright, alright,” Eddie finally called, raising his hands to silence the room. “Enough squabbling, my dear nerds. Your time is ticking. Decide your fate or perish in the dungeon!”

Dustin sighed dramatically, leaning toward you. “You see what we have to deal with? He’s a tyrant.”

“And yet you keep coming back,” you teased.

“Because we’re dedicated to the craft,” Dustin replied with mock seriousness.

“Because you’re gluttons for punishment,” Eddie corrected, smirking.

As the game carried on, the boys became more comfortable interacting with you, even inviting you to roll dice for certain decisions. When Eddie handed you a 20-sided die and asked you to roll for an attack, Dustin immediately objected.

“Wait, wait, wait!” he exclaimed, holding up his hands. “She’s not a member of Hellfire! She can’t just roll!”

“Excuse me?” Eddie said, feigning offense. “She’s my guest. She has honorary dice privileges.”

Lucas chimed in, grinning. “Only if she rolls well. If she messes this up, it’s on you, Eddie.”

You took the die from Eddie, holding it delicately between your fingers. “No pressure, huh?”

Eddie leaned in, his voice soft and teasing. “Don’t worry, babe. I have full faith in you.”

With everyone watching, you rolled the die, and it tumbled across the table in dramatic fashion before landing on a perfect 20.

The room exploded.

“No freaking way!” Dustin shouted, practically falling out of his chair.

“She’s got beginner’s luck!” Mike declared, throwing his hands in the air.

Eddie grinned, looking at you like you’d just won the lottery. “That’s my girl!”

You laughed, feeling a little embarrassed but proud nonetheless. Eddie wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as the boys continued to marvel at your roll.

“Looks like I’ve got a natural,” he teased, his eyes sparkling.

“Maybe I should join the club,” you said with a sly smile.

Dustin immediately panicked. “Wait, wait, wait—no offense, but we can’t just let anyone join! There’s a whole initiation process and—”

Eddie cut him off with a laugh. “Relax, Henderson. She’s not taking your spot. Yet.”

By the end of the night, the campaign wrapped up with the group narrowly escaping the dungeon thanks to your lucky roll. As the boys packed up their books and dice, they couldn’t stop talking about you.

“Okay, so, I’ll admit,” Gareth said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “She’s cool. Way cooler than you, Munson.”

“Obviously,” Eddie replied, grinning as he helped you gather your things.

Dustin, still looking slightly awestruck, turned to you. “You’re, like… actually amazing. I don’t know how Eddie tricked you into dating him, but, uh… good job, I guess?”

You smiled. “Thanks, Dustin. But for the record, Eddie didn’t trick me. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, but, like…” Dustin looked between you and Eddie, gesturing vaguely. “He’s Eddie.”

“And I’m me,” you said, slipping your arm through Eddie’s. “We’re a good match, don’t you think?”

The boys exchanged skeptical looks, but none of them argued.

As you and Eddie headed out, walking hand-in-hand toward his van, he stopped suddenly and turned to face you.

“You know,” he said, his voice soft, “I think you broke their brains tonight.”

You laughed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “Maybe a little. But they’re great. I see why you love them.”

“They’re my weird little family,” he admitted.

“And now I’m part of it,” you said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Eddie murmured, his eyes locking with yours. “You are.”

He pulled you into a hug, holding you close as the cool night air swirled around you. For all his theatrics, Eddie had a quiet side—a side that adored you in ways he couldn’t always put into words.

“I love you, you know,” he said softly, his voice muffled against your hair.

“I know,” you replied, smiling against his chest. “I love you too, Eddie Munson. Even if you are a little crazy.”

“Crazy about you,” he quipped, pulling back to wink at you.

You rolled your eyes, laughing as he opened the van door for you. As you climbed in, you couldn’t help but think about how far Eddie had come—from the school’s misunderstood freak to the boy who had your heart and a group of friends who adored him.

As he slid into the driver’s seat and cranked up the stereo, Metallica blasting through the speakers, you leaned back and smiled. Life with Eddie was unpredictable, chaotic, and wildly unconventional.

[creative1writings]

Chapter 3: New Faces, Hidden Histories

Summary: You finally adjusted to your new home life, now you need to conquer school life, being the new student and meeting the people familiar to your father.

A/n: I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Warnings: None (I don't think)

Chapter l, Chapter ll

Megumi had talked about you to Yuji and Nobara, having explained what happened and who you were, the pair became very familiar with you even though they haven't met you officially. Gojo and Megumi both were trying to make it an easy transition between schools, having been going to a relatively normal high school, you'll now be entering one that instead of teaching about the revolutionary war you'll be taught about the war between curses and humans. Not knowing too much of your cursed technique and what you'll be capable of, made this whole thing harder.

Your dad had wanted you far away from the world that was cursed, he wanted only good things for you, he didn't want you to have to worry about losing friends or if you'll live another day, he wanted your only worry to be what you were going to wear the next day, so he shielded you from it, kept you hidden like a precious gem, he made it to where if anyone/anything of ill intent came even close to your proximity, he'd have rainbow dragon dispose of them quickly, his new objective was to make it to where earth was a place for you to live happily, safely. He'd do it all for you, that's why before he died he had to make sure that Gojo would get to you first, make sure he promised to look after you, make sure you were safe and loved, and Geto knew that white haired bastard would be the one to provide that.

When you finally enrolled at jujutsu high, Shoko and Nanami couldn't help but hound Gojo for answers, not knowing their lost friend had an offspring, they had become curious. Both expecting an exact copy of Geto and that's exactly what they saw, standing across the classroom for introduction to the new year, they saw you walk in with Megumi, a shy smile playing along your lips when you noticed everyone's eyes on you. Yuji and Nobara both rushed Megumi, ecstatic to finally meet you, they were practically buzzing, the adults all let out soft chuckles at the reaction.

Nanami and Shoko couldn't help but stare, you were exactly like him, in every little detail that was presented when you did something. The way your eyes flutter shut gently when you smiled wider, the way your lips seemed to stay upturned slightly, your hair was the same shade as his and your eyes, the eyes were most like his, shining with the emotion you truly felt, they spoke volumes.

Nanami finally gained enough composure to look down at his classrooms attendance sheet, noticing a name he only just learned, Y/n , she was placed in his class, but why? Nanami made a quick approach to Gojo, catching him off guard slightly, he turns his full attention to him.

'What is this?'

Nanami asked clearly, showing him the attendance sheet, Gojo glanced down to see what he was on about.

'Shes in your class..so what?'

Gojo said in his usual calm tone, causing Nanami to blink at him.

'I see this, but may I ask why?'

Nanami sternly said, already fed up with Gojo's nonchalant attitude.

'Oh.. because since she's new to all things cursed, we thought we'd start her off in an easy class.' Gojo beamed.

'My class is not easy.' Nanami stated.

'For non sorcerers maybe.' before Nanami can retaliate Gojo walks off leaving him with the words stuck in his throat.

Gojo makes a direct line to where you were. Smiling down at you gently he asks if you're ready to meet your teacher to which you only respond with a nod and small smile. He guides you to a tall man with blonde hair, the man holding a look of stern and serious causes you to shrink in on yourself slightly before smiling nervously and introducing yourself, this seems to make the man lighten up a little, and in turn you learned his name was Kento Nanami.

A bell rang signaling everyone to go in the direction of their designated classrooms. Nanami instructs with his hand to follow his lead. You fall in step behind him as he leads the way, the classroom had only a few students and one teacher aid. You get greeted instantly by the teacher aid learning his name was Takuma Ino.

You later come to realize that this class was an introduction class, and you had one more class after this, one that tests not on papers but on your physical capabilities. Gojo sits you out this period, only wanting you to observe for now. He mentally noted to train with you privately at home to prepare you for the rest of the students, who were currently ranked higher than you when it came to strength and agility.

[creepyscritches]

Like, I grew up with a single parent who went MILES beyond expectations to secure me medical care and it was a horrible, demeaning process at every step! You could NOT "good behavior" your way to the system working. There were countless moving finish lines and a faceless wall of state insurance that did not care how often or how high they asked you to jump.

My father was not interested in paying for my health insurance after he dropped my mother and me like hot stones. So my mother did not have many choices when it became clear I was not well. I spent most of my early life undiagnosed and severely decompensated and, you guessed it, extremely suicidal. It wasn't until I was 26 or 27 that I experienced a day without pain, and I fought my way there the entire time.

I managed to graduate high school with honors, cords for the art honor society, and with all of my college-level English knocked out my senior year through dual-enrollement. I also taught intro level art at the high school, student-taught art at the middle school, student tutored trigonometry, and spent my remaining time in the art rooms completing the soldering on a giant stained glass installment we made for the school. Through this time, I also learned as many art techniques as I could (film photography and lost wax sculpture being my favorites). I also worked most holidays and school breaks in a kennel, spending 12 hour shifts handling non-social dogs.

By senior year, I was stashing coffee throughout my destinations each day. I was so tired I couldn't sit up. My body hurt, but doctors we could see would simply brush me off as a lazy teenager. I had a tumor under my tongue that kept returning and becoming more expensive to address. I had to lose a rear molar due to infection that eroded my jaw bone -- it took 2 years for the bone to regrow before I could entertain any options of replacing the tooth. I am 15. I am 16. I am 17.

I am 18. Despite having no money, I finally get some payoff for my efforts. I am awarded a full ride scholarship, I even get enough money back each semester to fully cover my books. I have to work a campus job as a part of the agreement and I spend 6hrs a week manning the liberal arts front desk between my +12hrs of classes. That's fine. I knew I was never going to have an easy road to education. I join the honors college and place my science + language credits there. My 7pm biology lab is the only reason I did not work my second job one day a week.

I am 18. I am working. I am learning. I am extremely ill but have been conditioned to call myself lazy, unmotivated, and the reason for my failures. I am not ill, not to me. I am 18. I work an overnight, 16 hour shift for Black Friday. I do not see family this year. My tumor returns. I quit my second job in December because I could not talk to customers after surgery. The doctor tells me I will have a scar as long as my jaw if it returns again.

I am 18. I am in pieces. My partner breaks up with me because I do not give them enough attention. I work until 10pm every day and spend the preceding 12 hours in rigorous college courses. Every day but my 7pm Biology lab, but I am too tired to spend time with someone that day. I do not have room in me to care about this now too. I finish my second semester and do not return. I cannot move my body and I cannot get accommodations because I cannot afford a diagnosis. I leave the full ride behind.

I am 19. I am supporting myself with freelance art. My body suffers deeply for this. I cannot get care. I find a chiropractor who will see me for $50 a visit and she saves me from killing myself if I'm honest. I begin teaching myself the ICD-9. I get certified and get a job the same month as my certification.

I am 20. I have moved out, my mother was moving as well. I am working, still sick. I cannot get care anywhere now as I am over 18, under 26, but my parent with insurance will not cover me. I work at my job for a year before I am fired for health complications. As a contractor, I did not get benefits or protections. This is just the way it is, they explain to me.

I am 21. I have picked up a new job, still contract over a year in despite the promise of full-time after 8 months. The job holds my insurance over my head like a carrot. I start to lose motion in my left arm. Pain now wakes me up on a nightly basis. I threaten to quit, they transition me from "external" to "internal" contractor. No benefits.

I am 21. I have forced my employer to hire me full-time. I am paid significantly less than my peers, despite experience. I get benefits. I pay $4000 out of pocket, but get my first diagnosis of narcolepsy. I do not get adequate medication until 4 years later.

I am 22. Physical therapy had been trying to fix my left arm, but things keep worsening. I receive a couple of painful steroid injections over my ulnar nerve (between the elbow). These do not work, so I am brought in for an ultrasound guided injection where the needle is woven between my bones and nurses physically hold me in place per protocol. This does nothing, but it is one of the most agonizing procedures I have ever had. I am rushed into a rheumatologist's roster after lesions in my bone marrow are found on MRI. The MRI took 3 attempts over a month as the pose required would reduce me to delirious levels of pain.

I am 22. I am told I have an autoimmune disease that has been running rampant for years. I begin oral chemotherapy. I vomit constantly. I do not improve. My doctor does not believe me when I say I cannot tolerate this medication. I do not get a name for my diagnosis, no matter how I press. I have multiple conditions submitted to insurance, but my doctor claims it is to get the different medications covered.

I am 27. I am accepted into Vanderbilt's cutting edge rheumatology department. I have SLE and my previous doctor's regimen had been consistently worsening my baseline condition. I am $15,000 in debt for medicine that ultimately was poisoning me.

I am 29 now. I have a body for the first time in my life. The opportunities I have now are unbelievable. The opportunities I missed are devastating. My body and health have been used as bartering chips my entire life. I am a "lucky" outcome. I cannot swallow this pill that this is the only way people can live here. No one will be demeaned like I was if I have any control over it. I will never minimize the incredible change the ACA brought to everyone here.

I cannot stress enough that the gap between "better than nothing insurance" and "no healthcare at all" is literally one big enough for your coffin. That is unacceptable, I refuse this. The only reason I have been motivated to learn the bureaucratic bullshit required for American health care is to shovel this gap closed, one shovel of dirt at a time. YEAH, I would love to be a middle school art teacher but I think I have been changed too much from these experiences to walk away from the state of American health care.

I find talent to help me and I protect it, elevate it, and encourage it to multiply. I have a mentor helping me do the same. I am learning the ACA industry still, mostly to identify problem points around me. I am 29, I am building like-minded spaces around me. I refuse to see another generation live like mine and those before. Sign up for the ACA.

Growing up pre-ACA radicalized me soooo much lol like I will not pander to arguments that deprioritize access to medical care at all as an adult

[whatsupmykentuckyfriedfuckers]

If I was a english teacher I would give excerises out to the kids where they would have to think of a media they like, and write their own story with the characters and inspired the story.

I would make them write their own fanfiction

[daily-hanamura]

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

sometimes i remember that gojo wanted to tell geto “we’ll meet again, right?” just before he died but forced himself not to knowing it would have cursed him and then i start thinking about how kind and thoughtful gojo is as a character and how he hasn’t been able to lean on another human being since geto defected and then i want to . Scream

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

Whumpers, what are your earliest memories?

Mine is from when I was about two or three. I was in a stroller, at my cousin’s Irish dancing recital. After the recital, my aunts were talking down to me in the stroller, and to each other. I was experiencing extreme anxiety because I couldn’t understand what they were saying, when I felt I should have been able to communicate with them like they were communicating with each other. I was also very tired and dazed. I did not cry though… I probably looked normal on the outside.

I also remember when I was about four or five, I went to the beach with my dad and one of his friends. I somehow found my way onto the dock, planted my little rear end on a jet ski, untethered it from the dock, and started floating into the sunset. There was an old lady lounging in a donut inflatable out some way; she said something to me, but I couldn’t understand what she said, despite trying really hard. I’m assuming it was something along the lines of “Oh my god get off that jet ski you’re going to fucking DIE, kid,” but again… couldn’t understand a word of what she said, and got frustrated because she was speaking English (without an accent) and I should know how to understand adults speaking English to me.

At this point, my dad is yelling at me from across the water, and a young lifeguard drags the jet ski back. On land, my dad lectured at me very harshly as he led me back to the car. I didn’t know I had done anything wrong, and was very confused. At some point this guy starts quoting the Bible at me, and the only thing I could pick out were the words (spoken very emphatically), “Your days are numbered.”

“My days are numbered?” cue a vivid mental image of a calendar, with dates listed for every day of the week, “What does that mean?” Later on I figured out this was the Bible’s way of referencing death at God’s hand which just made me even more confused as to what I did, until at age thirteen, I figured out, “Oh a baby who can’t swim floating on a jet ski is terrifying, actually.”

Tagging: @kaleidoscopr @redd956 @hereissomething @astudyinpanda @c0ldbrains @straight-to-the-pain

[spinoff-antithesis]

[@distinguished-turtle-enjoyer ]

i actually have not stopped thinkin bout your bb!edit like,,,, its so good and scratches my brain right

how long have you been doin edits for? do have any tips for someone, who hypothetically, wants to start doin edits too? what programs do you use? how did you do the cool animated bits?

im so sorry for all the qustions 😭😭 i just think youre very talented and inspirational and i hope you have a good day ^_^

hi firstly oh my gosh you're literally so sweet i am gently shaking you i love you so much /p. secondly, i apologize for the long answer! (it's all under the cut. this got away from me. i'm so sorry apparently i have a lot to say.) (also you're so good about the questions i would constantly be asking one of my professors questions during class to the point where she said i didn't have to go "i have a question" every time i approached her)

i've been editing since 2016! around march/april, i think? loved it so much i went into film & video production in college as a major so i could do editing for a living. (i have done more motion graphics for my classmates than i have done edits outside of class assignments, BUT!)

the program i use is after effects - i started learning it when covid first hit the united states because i had nothing better to do with my time (other than music theory but i failed that bc my professor focused more on the history aspects than the actual theory soooo) and my ipad kept giving me the "no more storage" whenever i tried to use videostar lmao. (vs has, apparently, gotten a LOT of good updates, so if you're looking to start editing and have an ios system, i'd look into it! only downside is you have to pay for some of the cool stuff).

also the program i use for masking (i think i explain this later dwdw) is superimpose. i've been using it since 2014 and it's SO nice bc i can use my fingers to erase backgrounds & stuff instead of hoping i can get it to work correctly in ae or photoshop (photoshop my DETESTED i'll use it but i'll complain the entire time).

for people who want to start editing: tutorials on how your program works and how to do specific transitions are gonna be your best friend when you're first figuring things out! i forced a friend to literally walk me through how after effects worked when i was first figuring it out, and when i had swapped to videostar back in 2017/2018(?) i had watched a Lot of tutorials. that and played around a lot and figured things out on my own - which is also always a good way to start!! it's also totally valid to look at other people's edits for inspiration - most editors don't really care, as long as you don't flat-out remake their edit (some people don't like that!). i have a style insp folder on instagram where i save edits that i like so if i need transition ideas or i'm doing a different style, i can look there for inspiration. at the end of the day, as long as you're having fun with it that's all that matters!

also, starting simple is always okay!! my edits for a year were just me slapping gifs & video segments together on a timeline in cute cut pro bc imovie didn't load them lol & it'd crash every time i breathed. ++ it never hurts to ask people for feedback/constructive(!!!) criticism/etc! (also not to sound like everyone else but practice? good. it's so good. if i showed my 14/15y/o self some of the edits i can make now they would've passed out on the spot bc i was still trying to figure out transitions back then. programs can also sometimes make a difference in edits, but usually it's not super noticeable until you start getting to the Complicated Shit.)

a lot of popular programs i've seen are ones like video star (ios only), alight motion (android only), after effects (i recommend 🏴‍☠️ing it tbh, i only use it legally bc i had to use adobe programs for school), capcut, and i think some people still use sony vegas pro & maybe cute cut pro (i've heard it may have actually gotten better since i last used it in 2018)? i have no idea. programs also depend on whatever device you're using to edit on! since i've been using my laptop, i'm able to use after effects (it's computer-only), but when i used my phone/ipad to edit i used ccp & vs.

for the animation - it's a lot of cutting up the image and masking! more complex animations, like the one i had of leo walking down that red 'hallway' have several different layers that have been masked. (i removed the background & filled in the spot where leo originally was in two different apps - superimpose (taking leo out) & photoshop (filling in the bg)) in after effects, the way i've done this was mask out the specific thing i wanted to move (like an eye) and then put that mask on what i've called a "base" (not animated), and then stick a solid behind the base to match the color of the object. (some of my layers are not named appropriately; base 2 is the left arm & the four "SIX_[...]" layers are the mask/bandana tails)

an example of this would be for any of the eye blink animations i did! this (above) is the same shot, with and without the eye - since it's masked out and i have the background solid behind it, it doesn't look too unnatural/have a black outline/mass where his eye should be.

what it looks like without the solid layer behind it ^ (the red lines are from the null layers - ignore that)

this is what my timeline looks like if it's a more simplistic animation - the only five things being animated here are leo & raph's eyes. (there's only this many layers bc it's two characters in one shot & i was also animating their pupils - typically, an eye-blink animation is about 4-6 layers for me (solid, base, mask, & null to animate with, 6 if i'm animating both eyes & 4 if just one))

in after effects, there's this really cool tool called the puppet pin that one of my friends (lovingly) yelled at me for not knowing about - which. yeah fair she wasn't wrong it's SUPER useful in animating, provided you chop up your image first. if you don't it's a mess.

(separated by layer vs i should've really put the mask tails & leo's head on separate layers and didn't bc that was the 2nd to last animation i had to do and i was losing my mind bc i wanted to be done with the edit lmao)

the way people animate depends all on their style (there's two common ways to do blinking animation - having the anchor point at the bottom of the eye, or the middle of it) and the program they use. it's been a while, but i could probably tell you how to do some basic animations on videostar still even though i've been doing them in after effects for about 2-3years now. ALSO the best way to have an animation be noticeable is to over-exaggerate it/make them Big - which, yes, can mean 'breaking bones' and having the limbs be a little wonky at the start. (if you want it to be realistic though go Just to the point where it looks uncomfortable lmao)

uhm. again i am so sorry that this is so long i THINK this is everything? if not: my inbox/dms are always open if you ever want to ask more questions, wanna follow up on something, etc etc!! (also if you ever start editing please send me your edits!!! i'd love to see them <3)

[crookedfandomquill]

This is very situational, and sadly may not be realistic for everyone, but I need y’all to understand that a very important part of political activism is fucking talking to your conservative or moderate friends and family.

My dad voted for Trump in 2016. He’s a middle class white evangelical from Arkansas. He raised me with conservative Christian values, just like his parents raised him. When he voted Trump, he was holding his nose, but he didn’t feel too bad about it, and went on to vote red down the ticket in the 2018 midterms, as well.

But I started college in 2017. Higher education and independence changed everything for me, and I went home over holidays and summers with fire in my belly and a thousand arguments ready at the drop of a hat, to my father’s dismay.

I remember crying in my room after emotional, intense arguments with him. I told him over and over that I felt betrayed by his choice to vote for a man who admitted to sexually assaulting women, who built his platform on dehumanizing immigrants and the disabled, who spread overtly-racist rhetoric, who flouted the values of kindness and self-discipline that I’d been raised on. And my dad always had some justification about the “greater good”: fighting against abortion, bolstering the economy, getting other Christian politicians into office.

But over time, as we grew further apart and I lost my will to discuss anything with him at all, he softened. He started asking me why I thought the way I did about the things we disagreed about. He would listen to my answers without interruption, and mull them over afterward instead of expressing his own opinion. And all the while, he watched the Trump presidency become cruel and absurd and devastating.

The first time he openly expressed regret to me, I had come home for a weekend after Kavanaugh was confirmed to SCOTUS. My dad realized he had helped elect a man who preyed on women… and that man had opened the door to more predators. I can’t tell you what it felt like for him to admit that he’d made a mistake, not just in voting for Trump but in defending him for so long. We kept arguing, but it was more debating than fighting. I knew he was capable of seeing my side of things, even if it took a while, and he knew I wasn’t just a sensitive college student with shallow new ideas about the world.

And then 2020 hit. Specifically, George Floyd was murdered, and the events that followed played out on the national stage. My dad was incredibly shaken by it. He asked me if I had any books from college about racial issues. I loaned him The New Jim Crow, one of the required readings for my Race and the Law class. Then I gave him Just Mercy. Then he watched the documentary 13th. Then he joined a racial harmony group he learned about through one of the few Black families at our church and insisted our whole family come. He held up signs at a protest against Confederate monuments in our conservative southern town. In three years, he went from defending Trump’s comments about “Black-on-Black crime” to publicly advocating for racial justice and opposing the death penalty.

We went together to vote in the 2020 primaries. I couldn’t help asking who he’d voted for; I didn’t even know if he’d asked for the Republican or Democratic ticket. He admitted he’d voted for Bernie. fucking. Sanders, then made me promise not to tell my grandma he’d voted liberal. When the election rolled around in November, he voted Biden. I’m sure he held his nose to do it, just like he held his nose voting in 2016. But I know he doesn’t regret it.

I am, of course, unbelievably lucky to have a parent who loved me enough, and was empathetic enough, to choose his relationship with me over his strongly-held opinions. He kept searching for truth because, as much as he’ll deny it, he’s a very smart and curious person. No degree of intelligence or curiosity makes you immune to propaganda, especially if you were raised not to question the party line. It’s easy to dismiss our conservative, conspiracy-pilled loved ones as stupid, hypocritical, and cruel. Sometimes they are. But sometimes they aren’t. Sometimes they will bend to keep their relationships from breaking. Sometimes, if they can be made to understand that their beliefs and actions are harming someone they love, they will make concessions. And sometimes they just need one person in their life to put a foot down, to be vulnerable and assertive and argumentative, to bring the impact of their politics close to home.

As the most important election of our lifetimes approaches, do not put peace over progress. If you have someone like my dad, someone who is good-willed and smart and loves you more than their own opinions, tell them how you feel. Tell them what their choices will mean for you, for your friends, for your community. Tell them what they could lose: your trust, your affection, your respect. Don’t avoid conflict if it could be productive. Because my conflict with my dad didn’t just win him over–it won over my moderate mom and one of my conservative brothers. And it put us in community with other like-minded people and led my parents to a healthier and kinder faith.

All of this to say, there is hope in conflict. There is hope in our relationships with people who think differently from us. There is hope in exposing your fear and anger and pain to people you love. And hope is a form of activism.

[chuluoyi]

✎ wife

- gojo satoru x reader

in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher's wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds

genre: fluff, crack, gojo being a silly little menace as always, yuji and nobara are confused, an attempt at humor, lovesick gojo, mention of breastfeeding

note: it’s so silly but i had fun writing this! based on a request by anon (thank you!) but i tweaked it a bit and partly inspired by this fanart. reader is also a teacher at jujutsu high and has a baby with gojo—loosely a continuation of protect

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"Take that off immediately!"

"Kyaaah~! Yuji is here, you pervert!"

Yuji was a laughing mess. Megumi and Nobara collectively sighed. Nanami attempted to retrieve his once-immaculate suit, now a crumpled mess, from the one and only Gojo Satoru, who found humor in stealing his signature attire and impersonating the stern-faced Nanami in front of his fresh batch of first years.

"He is incorrigible," Nobara grumbled, her eyes slitting. They said that he was a strong sorcerer, possibly the strongest there was, but she found it really hard to believe.

Megumi threw her a deadpan stare. With many years of putting up with this kind of antics under his belt, he pitied her for not knowing that this was far from the worst. "Yeah, he is."

"How does anyone ever put up with him?"

That was actually a good question. "We don't..." Megumi paused, recalling each and every occasion where he tried to do so. "His wife is probably the only one who can."

Nobara sputtered, spinning towards him. "What the—wife? That annoying man has an actual, living, breathing wife?"

"Who? Gojo-sensei?" Yuji chimed in, jumping into the conversation, leaving the supposedly two adults in their catfight. Nanami was still clawing to get his suit back, and Gojo continued to giggle and evade him, playfully running away.

Nobara scoffed. "I bet the woman just married him for the money. He comes from prestigious clan, yes? That must be it."

Yuji felt his eyes would pop out of its sockets. "What are you talking about, Kugisaki!? What woman—"

"Shut up, Itadori! Don't be too loud!"

Nobara and Yuji's unharmonious ruckus irritated Megumi to the bone, and he decided that the best course of action now was to leave them all in the dust. With a glare and a shake of his head, he stalked away.

And thus the two new first years were left with half-truths that would lead them into a major misadventure later that day—

—which happened when they spotted Nanami with you, whom they were still unfamiliar with.

They were convinced that Gojo’s wife must be some sort of boring tramp eyeing his wealth and not this positively radiant, mature woman, and so ruling that possibility out, they positively swooned at the sight before them.

"He's irresponsible, egotistical—" snippets of Nanami's frustrated words conveyed enough to paint a picture of Gojo's character. He was definitely ranting about Gojo to you.

"Is that Nanamin's wife?" Yuji mused, a hint of pink tinting his cheeks. "She is so pretty..."

"They... look cute together," Nobara hummed with dreamy eyes, and then looked at Yuji sharply. "And yes, she's indeed pretty, but know your place, Itadori!"

"I know!"

Based on how the two of you interacted, they concluded that you must have been close, with the way Nanami visibly relaxed around you, and not as formal as he was with anyone else. They highly suspected that the two of you were married, as you wore a ring, which was the ultimate sign.

"And how's the baby?" Nanami asked then, directing the question to you with a smile on his face, prompting surprised gasps from both Yuji and Nobara.

You were glowing, to say the least, and when you let out a small giggle at his question, even both students couldn't miss the way your expression exuded pure happiness. "He is well. Ah, I really wanted to bring him along too, but he was a little messy after eating so I left him at home. You can see him later…"

Yuji gaped. "So it's true..."

"Oh my gosh... and they have a baby." Nobara almost squealed.

And that sealed it. The headline of the day: Nanami is married to this stunning woman wandering the school grounds.

So imagine their utter shock when the second time they found you, you were with Gojo, and he was shamelessly snogging you in the hallway.

“Why are you here?” Gojo was breathless after the soul-sucking kiss he smothered you. His tone remained playful yet carried a clear undertone of concern. "You're still on maternity leave. I'll make sure Yaga knows that."

“Satoru,” you whined, and the use of his given name made Yuji and Nobara gasp in disbelief. “I’m perfectly okay and I don’t need to breastfeed anymore. I should start getting back to work.”

Nobara seemed to finally understand the implication. But Yuji didn’t. His mind flitting from one scandalous idea to another—

Gojo-sensei seducing Nanamin’s wife? Nanamin’s wife cheating on him with Gojo-sensei?

In the brief period he spent with Gojo, Yuji realized that he didn't exactly have a reputation for decency. So despite himself, he could only muster up this one word: “Homewrecker. Homewrecker!”

Yuji’s shriek took all three of you by surprise, and now both you and Gojo were aware of his presence.

“You absolute idiot,” Nobara hissed, face-palming.

“Oh, Yuji? Nobara?” Gojo genially asked, his concern towards you quickly dissolved into a meaningful smirk on his face. “And what do you mean by—?”

Yuji yelped. “You! You are! You’re trying to seduce Nanamin’s wife!”

Silence. Gojo’s eyes twitched beyond his blindfold. You blinked. Nobara wanted to save herself from the second-hand embarrassment. And his loud voice caught the attention of Megumi too, who was close by.

“You seem to be mistaken. First of all, Nanami isn’t married,” Gojo said with a strained voice, maintaining his smile. He then gestured at you, showing you off with pride. “And this here, is my wife.”

“Y-your wife?!” Yuji exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger. “H-how?! I saw her with Nanamin! Talking about a baby—”

“That would be my baby.”

“But how?!”

“Yuji, do you want me to give you a crash course in baby-making—”

“Satoru!”

You sent him a glare and turned to the young first years with a smile. "You must be the new first years? I’m Y/N, and I’m in charge of the second years.” You gestured towards your husband. “And please, ignore most things he says. He’s a bit crass, and if you ever feel he's harassed you, don't hesitate to report it to me."

“Wifey! How could you!”

“Shut up, Satoru! You’re embarrassing yourself!”

“What are you doing here?” Megumi inquired with a deep frown, getting between Yuji and Nobara as they stared at Gojo in total bewilderment.

Yuji exclaimed in disbelief, pointing at you. “Fushiguro! Gojo-sensei’s wife is a beauty!”

“…I know that already.”

Nobara whipped her head towards him. "You knew?! Since when?!"

“They… took me in.”

“THEY WHAT?!”

Gojo grinned at their chorus of surprise. “And what a fine boy he turns out to be, eh?”

Megumi scowled, but Gojo wasn’t bothered at all. If anything, what offended him was—

"What makes you think my dear wife here belongs to Nanami instead of me?" he joked with a mock scoff, earning an eye roll from you.

Nobara and Yuji blurted out their thoughts simultaneously.

“They look good together?”

“Nanamin is dependable?”

Gojo gasped dramatically, one hand flying to his mouth. "So, not only do I not look good with her, but I also don't seem dependable enough?" He turned to you with the most aghast expression. “Tell me that isn’t true—”

You shot him a withering look, deadpanning, “Actually, you might be.”

And Gojo clutched his chest, letting out an anguished cry.

Epilogue

“Satoru… come on, you know I was joking.”

Your dramatic ass of a husband had his head on your lap, hugging your torso tight. The pout on his face hadn’t faded a bit ever since he was done with his class, and now on your marital bed, he was clinging to you with all of his might.

He shook his head petulantly, clicking his tongue. “You’ve embarrassed me in front of my students. You’re so mean!”

You sighed. “I’m sure you have made a fool out of yourself far often. This is insignificant.”

“Hmph! How could you say that?! I don't care if it's me, but I can't believe that it's coming from you! I shower you with my undivided love each and every day!”

“Yeah, yeah…”

Somehow seeing him like this made your heart lurch. He reminded you so much of your baby boy who was sleeping right in the next room that you couldn't resist smiling and pinching his cheeks.

“Okay, okay. My husband is handsome, looks good with me and definitely someone I can rely on,” you relented, and like a lightbulb going off, Satoru suddenly beamed so wide that you were certain his cheeks hurt.

“That’s more like it! Now, now, there’s only one way that can prove how responsible I am! Let me just fill you up with another baby—”

You smacked him on the head.