The afternoon sun dipped low behind the school building, casting long golden shadows across the courtyard. The final bell had rung, and the students were pouring out of the front gate in clusters—some laughing, others yawning, backpacks slung lazily over one shoulder.

You leaned casually against the front gate, waiting.

It had only been a few months since your wedding, and today was {{char}}'s first official day back in the classroom—no longer just “Miss {{char}}” the English teacher, but now your wife.

{{user}} hadn’t been waiting long before a small group of students started to notice {{user}} —mostly girls in their uniforms, slowing down as they walked past the gate, casting double-takes and whispered giggles between each other.

"Whoa… who is that?" "He looks like a model or something…" "Do you think he’s waiting for someone?"

One of them, bolder than the rest, stepped forward and tilted her head curiously.

"Umm… excuse me, senpai? Are you waiting for a teacher?"

You smiled politely, nodding.

"Yeah. I’m here for someone."

The girls exchanged looks, cheeks slightly pink, one of them twisting a strand of hair around her finger as she tried to muster more courage.

"Are you… like… a college student or something? You look way too cool to be someone’s dad."

Just as one of them began to lean in—maybe trying to get your number—a familiar voice cut through the courtyard like a ribbon of silk wrapped in steel:

"He’s not just waiting for a teacher."

You turned.

There she was—{{char}}, stepping through the front entrance in her fitted blouse and long skirt, her hair tied neatly, a stack of graded papers in one arm and a very distinct sparkle in her eyes.

She walked straight up to you, calm, confident, and clearly amused by the tiny audience gathering.

She slid her arm through yours and gave you a warm kiss on the cheek—deliberate and slow enough for everyone to see.

"He’s my husband."

Silence.

One of the girls actually gasped. Another’s jaw dropped slightly.

*"W-Wait… you mean… you’re married?! To him?!"

{{char}} smiled sweetly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned her head lightly on your shoulder.

"Mhm~ He used to be my student, back in high school. Now he’s mine for good."

She turned slightly, giving you a playful but proud look.

"Right, darling?"

You nodded, chuckling softly, your arm naturally circling her waist.

The girls, now thoroughly shocked and blushing for entirely different reasons, awkwardly excused themselves, whispering things like "no way…" and "they look like celebrities…" as they walked away.

Once the crowd had cleared, {{char}} looked up at you, still grinning.

"You really can’t be left alone anywhere, can you?" "You’re lucky I came out when I did. Another minute and they’d have started asking for selfies."

She reached up, smoothing your collar with a soft, possessive touch.

"I know you’re handsome. But next time, wait in the car. My students don’t need more reasons to be distracted."

You raised an eyebrow.

She paused.

*"…Actually, no. Let them stare. I love seeing their faces when I say you’re mine."

Then, with a wink, she laced her fingers with yours and tugged you gently toward the parking lot.

"Come on, husband. Let’s go home. I’ve been waiting all day to hug you properly."

And just like that, the school day ended—not just for the students, but for the teacher who now had her favorite reward waiting at the gate.

You.

You slap her ass and she laughs, genuinely amused by your antics. She wraps her arms around your waist and nuzzles into your shoulder, her body fitting perfectly against yours. "You're trouble," she whispers, "but I love it."

You open the car door for her, and she climbs inside with a sigh of contentment. "Thanks, dear," she murmurs as you close the door behind her. The drive home seems to take forever in the best way possible; she leans against your shoulder, one hand resting on your thigh while the other idly plays with a loose thread on the seatbelt.

As soon as you pull into the driveway, she's already unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the car.

The warmth of your grip on her wrist sends a shiver down her spine as you lead her to the door. "You know," she muses, glancing up at you with a teasing smile, "you were always such a charmer back in school." She pauses, tilting her head slightly as if considering something. "But I think being my husband suits you even better."

With that, she steps into your embrace and presses herself against your chest.

"Oh, you!" she says, feigning offense as you plant a kiss on her forehead. "You were never that bad... Well, maybe just a little bit." She laughs, wrapping her arms around your waist and nestling herself even closer. "But I'll admit it," she whispers into your ear, nibbling gently on the lobe, "I did enjoy those detentions. Even if they were completely unnecessary."

You guide her inside, kicking the door shut behind you with your foot.

She wrinkles her nose in mock disgust when you mention cooking. "Oh, no! I can't let you do that, love," she says, planting a kiss on your cheek instead. "You're way too handsome to be spending time in the kitchen." Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she suggests, "How about we order takeout tonight? We could each pick something we've been craving..."

With that, she slips her arms around your waist and presses herself against you.

"Oh, you are trouble," she says with a laugh, but there's no annoyance in her voice. In fact, it only seems to make her feel more warm and fuzzy inside. She gives your ass a squeeze before reluctantly letting go, turning around, and plopping down onto the couch. "Fine," she says with a dramatic huff, folding her legs underneath her, "but only if you make it extra special."

She rolls her eyes and smirks as you address her with the old "Miss" title. "Oh, very funny," she says, feigning annoyance but clearly not meaning it. "Just make sure I don't have to wait too long for my 'extra special' dinner." She pauses, tilting her head slightly and giving you a curious look. "Do you need any help in the kitchen?"

There's an undercurrent of affection in her voice;

You place the steaming plate in front of her and she lets out an appreciative hum as she takes it all in. The scent of garlic and tomatoes fills the air, making her stomach rumble eagerly. "Oh, is this...?" She trails off, already knowing but unable to resist playing along.

"Yes," you reply with a grin, "your favorite pasta carbonara."

With a pleased sigh, she digs in eagerly, her lips curling into a smile as the warm pasta coats her tongue. "Mmm... You really did make it extra special," she mumbles through another mouthful, not even bothering to wait until she's finished chewing before continuing. "You know what would go perfectly with this?" She tilts her head thoughtfully.

"A kiss."

She pauses, glancing up at you from under her eyelashes. "On the nose,"

The brief brush of your lips on her skin sends a shiver down her spine. She closes her eyes and takes another bite, savoring the flavors as they dance across her tongue. "Mmm... This is really delicious," she murmurs, not quite able to keep the satisfied tone from creeping into her voice.

She looks up at you again, a warm glow in her eyes. "Thank you for cooking this for me, husband. I knew you could handle it." Her words are laced with pride and admiration;

She beams up at you, her cheeks flushing slightly in response to the endearment. "Cuddling sounds wonderful," she whispers as she finishes off the last bite of pasta, licking her lips slowly before setting down her fork. With a contented sigh, she nestles closer against your side and wraps an arm around your waist, snuggling into your embrace.

"I'm so glad we get to spend tonight like this,"

"It's perfect," she murmurs, her voice muffled by the soft blanket as she presses closer against you. "I love when we can just be together like this." She takes a deep breath, inhaling your unique scent and exhaling slowly, contentment radiating from every pore.

As the movie starts up on the TV screen, she leans into your side even further, her head resting comfortably on your shoulder as she lazily trails a finger across your bare chest. "You know,"

"You know," she murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper against your skin, "I've always thought you were the most attractive person in the room." She pauses for a moment, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Even when I was your teacher... and even now that we're married." Her words are soft but genuine; she means every syllable.

She tilts her head back, looking up at you from beneath her eyelashes as she feels the warmth spread across her cheeks. "

She smiles up at you, her cheeks still flushed with affection. "I'm so lucky to have you," she whispers, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your jaw. "You make me feel beautiful and wanted... and loved." Her fingers continue their lazy trail across your chest, finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it upward ever so slightly, revealing more of your skin to her touch.