#a proper old geezer

[korixae]

actually as excited as i am the reality has started to set in that im a woman under 25 going to an oasis concert. im gonna get fukcing stabbed 😭

[ericscroptop]

Teacher’s Pet

✧ pairing: student teacher! eric x fem student! reader

✦ genre: smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), smut, male receiving, filthy oral sex, hand job, so much spit, dirty talk, praising, pet names, cursing, kissing, filthy, obsessive reader, power imbalance? public sex? like one comment of degradation (reader is called a slut once), perverted, nasty, messy reader and eric

✦ word count: 5.7k words

✧ synopsis: you’re in your own world, not really a social butterfly and just going about your business in focusing on your education. that is, until your professor’s student teacher catches on to how you’re not so innocent and proper after all.

✦ note: if this type of pairing bothers you, then do not engage! always remember that all my work is purely fiction.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚

Thursday. The day of the week you looked forward to the most.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, you had a Geology lecture to attend.

The course was held during the evening, meaning class would end while it was dark out now because of the recent time change. You kinda hated that.

This course also had no real relation to your major. It wasn’t of any interest to you. You needed a generic science credit, so you had to take it as one of your requirements to graduate.

While picking classes and scheduling for the semester, you happened to have no other choice than to pick this Geology class.

In all honesty though, the content and course in itself wasn’t too bad. Sometimes, lessons of the different types of rocks or volcanoes did activate your brain. Only sometimes.

And, the reason you looked forward to coming to class every Thursday was because your professor was accompanied by a special guest: Eric Sohn.

Your professor had a teaching assistant to work alongside him. You’ll never forget the first day you were introduced to him. You’ve genuinely never seen anyone more handsome than him in your entire life.

Eric Sohn served as one hunk of a man. It’s so shallow and shameful of you to reduce him to sole eye candy, but how could you help it?

There was a juxtaposition between him and other teachers you’ve had in the past.

First things first, he’s a graduate student. He has to be only a few years older than you. Right off the bat, he was obviously more intriguing than the other old geezers (no offense) and middle-aged professors that worked here.

His looks also will immediately hit you like a truck with just one tiny peek at him. The features he was blessed with were hypnotic. His face was crafted beautifully, having honey skin that highlighted those sharp features of his.

On most occasions, thick black frames perched over his prominent nose. He also never slacked off with his outfits, coming to class every week in business casual attire that seemed more elevated with that pretty face of his and unique details.

What made him stand out apart from his handsome and youthful face were the unique coverings that painted and pierced through his skin and body.

The curved barbell on his left eyebrow, silver hoops dangling from his earlobes, and classic black ink that covers one of his forearms makes him look far from ordinary.

It fits him perfectly, bringing the Gen Z out of him that makes him easily stand out in the crowd.

You’re lucky that college exposes you to many cool-looking people. Even so, you never thought one of those people you find ever so alluring, would be one of your teachers.

Your observant-ass only further ate up anything you could pick up on or read based off his mannerisms and speech. He’d sometimes take over the lectures, leading the class instead of your main professor. You dissected the way his hands would relax into his pockets, him push his glasses up now and again, and him suck in a small breath in between talking.

Today was no different than any other time he’s present in class. You attended this course twice a week, but Eric only made an appearance on Thursdays. So you made sure to cherish that hour and thirty minutes in the same room as him extra well.

When you walked into your class and took your spot in your unassigned-assigned seat in the second to first row, you quickly noticed your main professor wasn’t present. So unlike him.

As soon as everyone settled and class begun, Eric announced that your other professor had private matters to take care of that prevented him from coming to campus today, so he’d be in full-force charge of lesson for the day.

Every other time, Eric sat on the sidelines and if he did take over class, it would be under the guidance of your other professor— or for mere assistance.

All the attention would be drawn to him, and for some reason, that made you all giddy inside.

And not to kiss his ass just because of your colossal crush on him, but he gave smooth-tongued lectures. He was an expert on the lessons he gave, very informative and not just reading straight off a powerpoint or textbook.

Maybe his looks played a major role in why you pay attention during lectures, but he really had a way of speaking.

His delivery of the material was satisfying. He’s just as well qualified to teach at the level your older professor does. Furthermore, he’s quite the entertainer, mindlessly throwing witty commentary and fun analogies with his lectures.

He knew how to keep students engaged. Without trouble he brought smiles and laughter to your faces, even getting students to willingly participate.

You on the other hand, stayed on the down low. Funny, ‘cause there isn’t much to hide when your class was on the smaller side— not auditorium-level, the amount of girls in the room could be counted with one hand as this is a male-dominated class, and you chose to sit close to the front.

Still, you remained to stay as a background character, allowing room for the regular extroverts to ask and answer questions and engage in conversations. You weren’t really the type to speak up, and kept to yourself.

Nonetheless, you still paid attention like the rest.

You stayed busy anyways with how your mind ran laps with the various daydreams you envisioned. Eric Sohn served as the main love interest of your created scenarios, constantly sweeping you off your feet and doing things to you that were anything but holy.

Poor you, always in your head, day-dreaming like it’s a disease. Eating away at your brain with fantasies about someone you definitely cannot have, and definitely does not see you in the way you view him. He must already have a lover at home, or he knows he’s hot shit and has everyone wrapped around his finger.

Your thoughts were like that of a young teenager, filled with thirsty fantasies of someone you shouldn’t even dare to see in that way. It’s so hard though; He’s too easy on the eyes.

However, you wouldn’t act on those fantasies, certainly. That’d be ridiculous. But a girl could dream.

During lecture, you diligently took notes while retaining every word and detail that leaves his mouth.

The air in the classroom today was rare. He was in control and in focus, sparking your senses even more than usual.

As much as you tried to tame your dreamy, indecorous thoughts, they couldn’t be kept quiet. You watched the man you crushed on stride while lecturing, hands clasped together and using them to gesture while speaking, making the bracelets adorning his wrists jingle slightly.

His eyes would roam around in front of him as he spoke, not focusing on anything in particular unless he was looking at the projector screen, or person who answered or asked a question.

If his eyes happened to land on you even for a split second, holding contact until he fleeted them away, a hot sensation shot up your body, palms quickly sweaty.

That further provoked you, mindlessly chewing on the end of your pen in attempt to stabilize your heart rate and mind.

You had to be an embarrassment to society, geeking out over your hot student teacher as if you were an immature teenager. Here you were, squealing internally inbetween note-taking, striving to keep your hormones under control.

He’s just too damn attractive for your own good. How can you not yearn for him and ogle, even letting your eyes zero in and lower down towards his cro—

“See you guys next week! Have a good and safe weekend. Don’t forget to stay warm, it’s getting chillier.” Eric’s voice snaps you out of your perverted trance.

Quickly, the sounds of students rising from their seats and items being packed echoed the room. Some were eager to flee out, not hesitating in heading towards the door.

A quiet sigh lets out your mouth. Whether it be from exhaustion, relief, or getting the ick from your feelings— who knows?

You’re just ready to get back to your place, have some dinner, and fall deep into sleep. When you start to get a couple steps out from your row though, a voice catches your attention.

“Miss, Y/L/N?”

You stopped in your tracks.

“Can you stay for a bit? There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Your heart dropped to your ass.

“Sure!” you voiced, calmly walking towards the front of the room where he stood. On the inside, you were anything but that.

You cannot recall a time that you were asked to stay after for something you’re unaware of. You’ve barely had any real interactions with your professor, let alone the student teacher. So what could this possibly be about?

Everyone else exited aside from yourself and three students who were talking to Eric. You’d figure people would wanna bolt out of class as soon as possible, but there was always those students that had burning questions post-lecture. Or in this case, simply wanted to linger longer to chat it up with the coolest guy ever.

You timidly stood on the sidelines, patiently waiting for them to wrap up their conversation.

With each second that passed, it made you even more anxious. Not only did you have to chat with your professor about God knows what, but it’s with the guy that unknowingly lives in your mind rent free.

In the time it takes to wrap it up with your classmates, you’re starting to prepare yourself for the worst-case scenario. Recently, you had written and submitted a two-page report, paired with a powerpoint on a particular landmark. Honestly, the requirements for it weren’t too strict, and it was certainly nothing compared to the ten-page paper you had to write for a different course.

But, you did write it last minute, and you had a habit of taking things from the internet and just rearranging the sentence structure.

There’s a chance that he wants to chat with you to reprimand you for your work. Oh, God. If you find yourself in a case of plagiarism, you don’t know what you’ll do with yourself. You’re getting queasy just picturing it. He needs to hurry up and get this over with since you’re shitting bricks while—

“Hey, so, I wanted to talk about your recent report.”

Fuck. Here we go.

“Your report was phenomenal. I read yours already— I have yet to put in the grades, but yours was probably the best in the class.”

Huh?

He’s commending you? In-person over an amateur, half-assed assignment that was nothing in comparison to actual, well-written research reports.

I mean, it is worth a decent percentage of your grade, but still…

“Oh— wow, uh, thanks. I didn’t think it was that impressive.” there’s a mix of surprise, confusion, and relief within your tone. You give him a shy smile, loosely playing with your fingers. Your eyes don’t dart away from his, though. It’d be disrespectful to do so, and as much as the shared gaze made your body roar in flames, you needed to remain nonchalant.

“Please, you’d be surprised how many college students can’t write for the life of them.” he scoffs, smiling at the thought. It prompts you to laugh softly. You swear you see sparkles in his eyes, and that gorgeous smile of his has your heart skipping beats.

“It’s refreshing to read some good stuff. Especially from a student like yourself.”

Your eyes widen just a tad at that, not going unnoticed by Eric.

“You’re not as outspoken or talkative as the others— at least, not in class. Which, I totally get. But, it’d be nice to hear more from you.”

You still give him a polite smile, sorta sheepish at his words. It is true that you remain on the quieter side. There was a severe lack of participation from you. Curse your timidness.

“It’s always the quiet ones that always work the hardest.”

That has you blushing hard. Your unattainable crush acknowledging you and going as far as to personally applaud you for efforts you thought went unnoticed.

To be experiencing this is like a dream; You don’t want to wake up.

Even if you outwardly denied it or just shyly smiled and brushed it off on the exterior, on the inside, it boosted your confidence and made you feel like you were worth something via the eyes of someone else.

Any compliment given to you had you eating it up, craving more even after you digested it. Constantly seeking validation in any form.

“I’ve heard that it’s also the quiet ones with a colorful imagination… and are the freakiest.”

Now that gets the smile on your face to slowly falter, looking at him all paralyzed, while he just casually dips his hands in his pockets, all relaxed as if he didn’t just insinuate something outlandish.

“Wouldn’t you agree?” he nods, you still confused.

“I’m sorry, what?” you nervously laughed. If you weren’t mistaken, you’d believe he was being suggestive. Provocative, perhaps? But this couldn’t be.

He has to laugh back, amusement etched in his features at your expression. Unfortunately you seem oblivious, but luckily for you, he’s not.

“Don’t act so coy, now.” he takes a small step forward, but it’s still enough to close distance between you two. Your heart’s palpitating.

“Or are you really clueless?” he cocks his head, allowing his eyes to freely rake over your form.

The height difference isn’t striking, but his glaring makes you feel rather small. You’ve indulged in the fantasy you’ve created of him having you as he wished and vice versa in your head. But the possibility of it unveiling behold you is… hard to swallow.

“You’re not so subtle with that little act you’ve got going on. I see the way you look at me.”

Fuck.

Now is when you panic. Your face is turning red hot, and there’s this dizzy feeling that’s bestowing upon you in hearing that he’s aware of your gawking. The desire to run away and bury yourself into a hole is vastly strong right now. But there’s no escaping from this.

“Mr. Sohn, I’m really sorry… I— I’m so sorry if I made you uncomfortable… This is really inappropriate of me.” by this point, your eyes were growing heavy, flickering with tears threatening to break out. This was so shameful, and there’s really nothing you can do to save yourself from your disgusting behavior.

However, it surprises you when he doesn’t start spitting out rightfully-deserved berates.

Instead, his hands fly up to hold your shoulders.

“Hey, hey…. Who said it made me uncomfortable.” he utters softly while holding you, making you bite your lip to keep yourself stable. His touch and what he says has you looking at him all misty-eyed, perplexed to say the least.

He wets his lips with his tongue and snickers, looking off to the side before locking his vision back to you.

“The way you look at me and my bulge is really fucking hot.”

It feels like your ears are playing tricks on you. This has to be some sort of test, or maybe you’re too caught up in your head that this feels real.

He gestures his hand out for you to grab it, and while hesitant at first, you do. He directs your hand over his crotch, pressing it over the area.

You gasp silently in shock that you’re actually feeling his clothed dick. Eric lowly breathes, eyes still on you with a visible appetite. Your gaze wobbles from his eyes to where your hand rested underneath his.

His manhood’s seemingly begging to be let free from his slacks, cock kissing your hand through the layers with a gnawing throb.

“Is this what you want?”

This sounded like a straight-up Wattpad fantasy. Shit like this actually happened in real life? Eric Sohn was making a move on you, being so risqué. And what makes it worse is that you’re falling for it, as this is all you’ve ever hoped for.

“You really want me like this?” that’s really the best response you could come up with. There’s a possibility he’s playing tricks on you. He could be teasing you and then turn this into some sick joke.

But he continues to leer over the length of your body, particularly lingering over your chest. Mentally you hi-fived yourself for deciding on a low-cut top today. Though, having this sudden ravenous attention on you made you want to disintegrate. How can you handle this heat?

His eyes soften for a moment, grinning while moving a hand to grab hold of your chin gently. Your breathing practically stills at the contact with starry eyes.

“‘Course, baby. You’re gorgeous.” he breathes out, making you purse your lips to prevent yourself from smiling like an idiot. Your cheeks on the other hand, are definitely blushing like a bitch.

His thumb slides faintly over your cheek until it’s dangerously close to your lips, hanging just on the corner of your mouth.

“Will you show me how good of a girl you are and blow me?” his breath fans out in front of you, pussy pulsing from his plead.

Your lips part in surprise. His utterance makes you go blank, and you only stare at him with a gaze that asks if this is crossing the line.

But with the way you haven’t protested against his behavior thus far, and having knowledge of your feelings towards him, that’s enough to tell him that you’re intrigued and willing to get dirty.

He should make sure to have your verbal consent, though.

The tip of his thumb fully lands on your bottom lip, beginning to strum slowly at the appendage. His eyes are overcast with carnal desire, while yours are too entranced on him, battling with yourself to not close them, for you fear you’ll miss out on what’s in front of you.

“Words, hon.” he says sweetly. This overwhelming feeling to give yourself to him and let him have it crashes over you. The idea of this gorgeous man blessing your mouth and throat with his cock sounds heavenly.

Now that you’re living your wildest dream, put into this position, looking into his eyes up close, you’re blind to any morality. Having his attention like this makes you want to submit to anything he has to say.

You’re not thinking about how wrong this is, or how it may make you seem whorish to willingly give yourself up to him like a naive girl.

You just need to have a taste of him.

“Wanna suck you off. More than anything.” deep inside your soul and in the back of your mind, indignity resides there. But, you have this chance to be sexually frisky with this man. There was no way in hell you could pass this up.

He gives you a satisfied smirk at your answer, dropping his hand from your face and giving you a nod.

“On your knees.” he instructs.

Despite your confident words, your heart’s pounding. You find his attractiveness intimidating, so as weak and desperate as you are for him, you hope he be the same for you.

You kneel down in front of him, ignoring the cold, dusty floor that you fall upon. Your hands rest over your thighs, orbs overlayed with vulnerability and form ready to offer yourself.

Eric wastes no time, the unbuckling and loosening of his belt ringing in your ears. You swear you start to feel arousal pool in your panties just from that.

His pants drop to his ankles shortly after, eye-level with his dick that pushes up against his briefs, looking tight and bulky.

You shift slightly and blink anxiously. Although your core is whirling in excitement, you turn to the door of the classroom, praying nobody walks in or will be aware of what’s about to happen in this very room.

Eric understands, but he needs your mouth now before any more anxieties get to you. And he’s already falling for the temptation of you sat like a good girl for him, all pretty-faced with your breasts perked out, proving his neediness for you even more.

“This is all between me and you, baby girl. Don’t act so innocent now. Put those thoughts into action.” he says softly while palming himself, groaning softly while he gives himself a few caresses.

That beautiful sound of his gets you to whimper weakly, making him raise a brow and chuckle at the ounce of sound.

“Want me to make your dreams come true, hon?” Hm?”

You wet your lips and plead with your eyes before reminding yourself to use that mouth of yours as well. “Let me help you.” you murmured.

That cues him to free his cock, briefs joining his pants at the bottom while his entire length springs up, meeting it in all its glory.

Eric grabs it, tauntingly waving it in front of you, your pupils following and processing his hefty size, especially fixating on his pink tip.

“It’s all yours. Have at it.” with that, he lets go of his shaft and you reach to let it grace your dominant hand, starting off with a light hold.

The feeling of your hand over his length has his breath hitching, more so when your finger tips start outlining a vein and caressing his cock skin, getting comfortable with him.

His bottom is leaning against the teacher’s desk, hands holding onto the edge of it as you finally touch him with your lips. You drag and pucker your lips to greet his cock calmly at first, giving his tip nice kisses and tasting it by tonguing at his slit.

That causes him to hiss and provide you with a lazy smile.

“Cute, hmm… Sweet girl.” he coos, mesmerized when you give his blushed tip one last smooch before letting your tongue hang out to smooth it over the underside of his length, dragging it all the way to the top and flashing him with a seductive gaze.

You left behind your saliva and savored the taste of his skin, treating his shaft like the yummiest popsicle you’ve been dying to try.

Eric’s lips part, hissing out a curse word at that dangerous, sultry look of yours as you lick up on him. That dirty side of you that you kept veiled is coming out for him to see.

The chance to comment on your teasing is ripped away from him when you suddenly envelop your lips around his head, one hand on his base gripping him with just enough effort while your mouth got to sucking some of his cock to start off.

It makes him immediately throw his head back, throat rumbling from the sensation, cock fluttering.

Your movements are not rushed at all to begin with, stroking his cock with your mouth at a calm rhythm and stopping for a second when you reached his tip again. Repeating this process a couple times.

You stayed with this pace until you felt the need to take a minor break, removing yourself entirely from his length to take a breather.

You licked your lips and still gave him stimulation with your hand while you were off, lubricating him with the saliva you’ve left behind and ensuring to spread the precum that’s shining from his tip.

“I knew you’d treat me good…. Little vixen.” he compliments you, bringing a hand to one side of your head, holding some hair that threatened to cover that gorgeous face of yours.

You stretched your body up, squeezing your thighs together and breasts to express how turned-on this got you.

Bubbles of spit emerged from your lips as you looked up at him with pouty-eyes, honeyed look such a contrast from the dirty work your mouth’s doing.

With a hand still resting on the side of your face, he guides your mouth back to his shaft.

Readily, you open up and take him into your moist entrance, grabbing hold of his thighs for security while you allow him to take control of your movements.

Eric’s incapable of holding out against the urge to push his hips towards the source that’s granting him divine pleasure. So, he thrusts into your mouth and you allow it, accommodating to being driven deeper by relaxing your jaw and sticking out your tongue.

He bobs you over his cock repeatedly, every other couple shoves closer to his end than the last.

Your lips sucked and squeeze his girthy length, saliva building up as you sucked him off, creating wet sounds. The farther he pushed you, it felt like you were swallowing him. His fat cock buried inside your mouth, making you whimper at the fullness that consumed you.

“Shhhhh… Be good for me, sweetie. You can take it, yeah?” he coaxes, pushing you further and stopping once your mouth was fully stuffed and nose touched his pubic bone.

Choking on his entire cock dazed you, trying your best to remain calm and let him hold you for a bit in this position before you needed fresh air.

The groans of his were gratifying, altering your brain chemistry from his sounds and having him shove your throat full of his fatty meat. You wanted to prove to him that you deserved this. That you’re a girl he’ll never forget.

He pulls you off after some seconds pass, hand falling to his side and you immediately gasped for air, brows knitted together as you coughed. You were slobbering, spit raining down your chin.

You hate wasting time though so once you collect yourself, you dive down towards his ballsack, navigating your tongue along his sack and lower shaft, licking up on him with a teasing smile and breathy laugh.

You then starts to kiss his balls affectionately, sucking them with eager in between. Nose-deep into his sack, his wet shaft taps your head, your insides swirling from indulging in his package.

“Cock drunk, aren’t ya, eh? he sneers, amused by your head game and breathing heavily from such.

You simply continue smiling, and stick your tongue out. Eric grabs hold of his cock, slapping his tip over it lightly three or four times, you humming at this heavy feeling.

Your core shivers from his dark, dilated eyes blaring down into you. In front of you, Eric’s enjoying the view and service you provide to him. Being on your knees, face growing messier by the second, seeing the sneak peek of your tits in that top, and that cheeky smile of yours is driving him mad.

He knows for a fact that you’re gonna make him bust soon.

Ardently, your mouth finds itself closing over his length again. A hand of yours holds his wet base while you go to town on him, blowing only halfway and flicking your tongue back and forth.

Eric’s so greedy, and decides to challenge you once more by grabbing a fistful of some of your hair to have a hold on you. He doesn’t aggressively pull on you, though. He just wants to keep you in just the right spot while he starts boning into your mouth again.

He bites down on his bottom lip before letting go to part his lips in bliss, moaning from your increased sounds of slurping and squelching. It’s insanely hot and wet, fucking up his senses in the best way possible.

“You may act like a sweetheart, but you suck cock like a fucking slut.” he grunts out, getting your pussy to clench from him referring to you as such. You’d suck his dick like a slut for him any time, any where.

His free hand maneuvers to your chin, holding you even more fastened. He doesn’t let up dragging you over his length, having hold on you to keep you just where he wants you.

Tears brim your eyes, vision blurry as you swallow and are stuffed full of girthy cock. He face fucks you into oblivion, incessantly bullying your throat. There’s a chance he’d bruise your soft palate, but getting him off meant more than temporary pain.

The amount of spit that soaked his manhood had you gurgling, splash-like sounds on repeat like a song. Those smutty noises push his drive even more, chasing after the high that’s calling to him. Almost there.

You moaned and hummed around him. Partly because you were also aroused at the sounds being produced, but also because your jaw was sorta starting to burn. There was no intent on stopping, though.

“Fuck, you feel so good, baby girl.” his throat rumbles, largely from the vibrations of your moans stimulating his shaft further.

Air was getting knocked our of your lungs, and he further pushed your limits by bringing your face against his pubic bone again. Your lips stretched out as far as you could get them to, nose squished against his skin, with your bottom lip and chin touching his sack.

His cock fully down and inside the canal of your mouth/throat has him spacing out, consumed in the feeling of you taking care of his beloved manhood incredibly well.

Tears burn your eyes and one or two even manage to slip down to your cheek. His girthy cock is jammed-packed in your mouth, feeling clogged up and overloaded. It has you pressing your nails sharply into the skin of his thighs. Eric releases guttural groans, motivating you to stay strong.

After a moment, he kindly pulls you off. You’re tugged off with a large heave paired with choked mewls. Bubbles and foam of your drool slip down his length, tears staining your cheeks from the intensity.

Your face is definitely fucked up thanks to his cock, but Eric looks down at you with heavy lidded eyes, mesmerized by the ironically holy sight that looks so attractive from his perspective.

“Pretty girl.”

You whimpered at his remark, inching over to his balls to hide yourself and finish your job. You’re growing tired, but you sensually kiss and suckle some more at his hefty sack, ensuring to provide them with equal attention.

You could swear this gets him to let free a whimper, and so you persist with playing with them. You burrow and brush your nose and mouth against his balls, dreamy smile radiating your features.

Eric in concert grabs a hold of his cock, stroking and gripping himself in the right spots. He pumps his slippery shaft, head spinning from the touches, cock growing more stiff and breathing as heavy as ever.

“Shit, almost there.” he rasps, all tensed.

“Lemme cum down your throat.” he requests, knowing that it will be rapturous.

Plus, it would be easier to empty out down your throat instead of on your face, or anywhere else.

Eager to drain him dry, you swiftly swing up and over his shaft one last time.

Hard, but lazily, he jerks and twitches in your mouth, dominant hand holding onto your hair strands. He grunts and growls while exploding spurts of his seed inside your mouth.

Your eyes are shut, soaking in the sensation of him impregnating your mouth.

His hard cock pulsates, cum blazing as it releases. When he finally stops twitching, you swipe your tongue over his tip to make sure every last drop ends up in the right place.

He pulls out, his labored breathing serving as background noise while you swirl the thick consistency of his nut around, savoring him before letting it all slide down your throat.

You covered your mouth politely while swallowing, (even though there’s no point in being well mannered after giving him an untamed blow job) ensuring none of it spills out and all travels down you esophagus.

His body and psyche feels weak after orgasming, and his spine shivers while he catches his breath, but he still attempts to look at you: blinking in a daze, sniffling and licking at your lips.

Paired with messy, out-of-place hair, there’s a big ring around your mouth and nose area that no longer matches the rest of your face. He throat-fucked most of your makeup off, making him chuckle at your appearance and appreciating your devoted labor.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy. Wish you could see yourself right now.” he says in awe.

“Lemme see, open wide for me.” he then refers to showing him that you drank him up all the way.

Obeying, you open and stick out your tongue, giving him that proud look of a girl who swallowed every last bit of cum given to her.

“That’s a good girl. A really good girl.” he smirks, letting a hand down to the top of your head, patting your head delicately.

That has your cheeks swelling in fulfillment, cunt just as happy to hear that praise from the way it tingles.

His hand slithers lower towards your mouth, swiping affectionately at your corner. Although you already showed how strongly you felt about him with your head game, you impulsively grabbed that same hand. You direct it to your lips, kissing the skin of his knuckles, eyes remaining on him as you dropped those soft pecks.

Through his glasses, you can see lust and fascination present in his eyes. More strings start pulling him towards you, past the literal strings of saliva that attached you to his cock earlier.

To your surprise, he falls to the ground, now leveled with you.

“You okay, hon?” he coos suddenly, realizing he hasn’t respectfully checked in on if you were alright from what just went down.

Your eyes soften when his do, and you twinkle at him. “Yeah.” you murmured.

He observes your blotchy, smudged, and streaked face again, biting his lower lip with a broad smile.

“Such a messy baby.” That was so hot. So good for me.”

In the blink of an eye, his lips are on yours. While a bit shocked, you fall smoothly into the kiss gladly. He kissed you tenderly, passion burning through the movement of one another’s appendages. You were kissing Eric Sohn. Your student teacher.

“Whatcha say we go back to my place and get you cleaned up and taken care of, hm? Sound good?”

This is all unethical, but how could you pass this up? Nothing mattered except for the man you just gave the sloppiest top to. This is pathetic of you, but you needed more of him. And you reckon he wants to get to know more of you, too.

“Okay.” you grinned.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚

[tayraedoll]

Old Man

Part 2 Part 3

You keep teasing Alastor due to his age, he is about to show you how his age just makes him more experienced.

TW: Swearing, drinking, vomit, blackouts, suggestive themes, old-fashioned chivalry, drunk kissing

No smut, but is very suggestive at the end.

You slam the door to the hotel angrily behind you, causing the door to shutter in a way that would have worried you about breaking it if you had it in you to give a fuck.

"Fucking prick...who the hell does he think he is?!", you mutter under your breath

You run your hand through your chestnut hair. Your demon form was that of a fallow deer, your hair turned a reddish brown color with ears to match on your head. You had little white spots adorning your cheeks, shoulders, and back. The last of your demonic changes would be your luscious deer tail- the same color as your hair with the spots peppered over it- so full that you needed to get all your clothes altered for it.

You make your way over to the bar- where you a hoping the man who instigated your wrath sits- stomping your feed unnecessarily hard on the wood flooring. Just as you were hoping for, the man you most wanted to pick-a-bone with sat in his usual spot.

"Angel!"

"Toots? Back from y'er date already huh?"

"You are sooooo not allowed to set me up on anymore dates! That guy was an absolute menace!", you slump into the seat next to his with an exaggerated sigh. Husk promptly placed your favorite drink in front of you. You smiled and lifted your glass to him in thanks.

"Jeez, 'm sorry toots. I gotta ask- what'd Mikey do that pissed ya off so bad?"

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying not to picture your atrocious dinner date. "He ordered my dinner for me.", you spat as if it was the most egregious wrong ever done to you.

Angel and Husk stared at you with unreadable expressions, glancing at each other before quickly diverting their eyes back to you.

Maniacal laughter suddenly rang out from the other side of the bar- Alastor. You had not even noticed him when you first came in- if he had been there at all. You had a decent relationship with The Radio Demon, you mostly interacted at dinner but had the occasional chat in the library. He seemed to get along better with you than he did most of the other residents-save for Nifty and Charlie- you assumed that was due to being a deer like he was. Herd mentality and all you supposed. Now though, his laughter was grating on your already taut nerves. "Something funny you coot?" Angel's and Husk's eyes widened at your jab- no one had the balls to insult Alastor right to his face like that.

"Yes, very much so Darling. Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps he was just being polite? Ordering a ladies meal used to be the chivalrous thing to do.", he smiled wider at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"OK boomer, was it also 'chivalrous'(you used air quotes with your finger) to order her a salad instead of the wings and fries she wanted? The next man who has the audacity to order my food for me will become my meal instead!" You huffed and downed the rest of your drink, glaring over at your fellow deer.

He chuckled smoothly but relented his argument "No, I suppose you are right- that was not the proper way to go about it." You gave him a cocky smile before he continued "However, I must say that you...younger generation of ladies... give up so quickly. Running at the very first small inconvenience." He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, eyeing you mischievously.

"Well, SOOOORRRYY for having standards. Us younger generation ladies are not impressed by minimal effort and do not abide by the misogynist tendencies you old geezers put out", you laced your voice with as much venom as you could. "Mikey can take his Terry Crews in White Chicks vibes and fuck right off!"

Alastor eyed you thoughtfully,"Would you care to join me for a night out on the town my dear? Perhaps having a bit of fun will lighten your mood."

Now it was your turn to laugh,"Sorry gramps, but I fail to see how chaperoning you for your daily nightcap will lift my spirits."

"Hmmm, I suppose I will just need to show you how The Lost Generation cuts loose. Get dressed in something you can move in Darling." He was challenging you, you could see it in that smug grin on his face. Who were you to not indulge the old man?

"Give me 15 minutes.", you smirked at him and raced upstairs to your room. You have been saving a lacy, black party dress for a special occasion, now seemed like the perfect time to break it out of your closet. You would pair it with a pair of blood red pumps for a pop of color, wearing lipstick of the same shade to bring it all together.

You swagger down the stairs to meet up with Alastor at the front door. His smile widens ever so slightly as his eyes apprise you. "You look lovely Sha.", he says sweetly as he takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles tenderly. "Shall we?" He tucks your arm through his and guides you out the door.

You walk in silence for a time, Alastor humming softly to himself. You finally speak up "So, what old saloon are you taking me to?", you smile coyly up at him hoping to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"We are headed to my favorite jazz club Little Fawn", he snickers at your scowl. You hated when he called you that, it was because of your spots. But you were just a different breed of dear- you weren't a fawn! The nickname made you feel like a child. You spent the rest of the walk in silence again- Alastor resumed his humming while you pouted.

The outside of the club was inconspicuous, an old building made of brick and wood with no windows. Just a large, metal door at the center. Upon your arrival a small eyelet slid over to inspect you two, The eyes on the other side widened upon seeing Alastor and hastily opened the door. Once inside, you walked down a short hallway and through another metal door.

The inside of the club was a vast contrast to what the outside was like. It was lively, bodies dancing every which direction and a live band played passionately on stage on the far side. The room was decorated in vibrant reds and golds. A long, wooden bar sat to your left. You could smell the tang of bourbon and puffs of smoke, getting a hint of sweat from all the bodies swinging around on the dance floor.

"Shall I order you a drink? Or would you prefer to do that yourself? I wouldn't want to insult you.", Alastor chortled as he walked you over to the bar. You rolled your eyes at him "What are you drinking?" He raised a brow at you. "I am drinking rye whiskey. I am not sure if that will be to your tastes Fawn."

"Hey, I'm sure I can handle anything you dish out Flapdoodle. I bet I can go drink for drink with you even.", you challenged. Maybe you could wipe that ever-present smirk off his smug face if you could get the old man to pass out. You could handle a couple of whiskey drinks.

Alastor hummed as he regarded you, "Very well, if you insist!", he turned to the bartender "Double rye on the rocks please!" You blanched, double? You were not expecting to be drinking doubles, but if Alastor could handle them then you had a good chance right? You took a sip of your drink, it tasted of spice and dark chocolate and had a pleasant burn on its way down your throat. You were sure if you sipped it you would be fine.

However, Alastor had other plans as he swallowed the entire contents of his drink in one go. Your mouth fell open in shock as you stared at him. Fuck, this isn't going the way you planned. Timidly, you brought your own drink to your lips and swallowed the rest of it, shuddering at the burn. Alastor watched you all the while, and promptly ordered two more drinks. This drink was sipped, but was still drank much faster than you planned.

After a while you started to feel the effects of the alcohol, your body relaxing. You started to sway to the music, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor my dear?", Alastor asked as he took your hand, leading you out to the middle of the dancing crowd.

He placed your left hand on his shoulder, keeping your other hand held in his. His free hand held you closely by the waist and he began to swing you around to the beat. You stumbled along, if he weren't holding you so securely you would have ended up on the floor and the alcohol was not doing you any favors. "Oh dear, you a very bad at this!", he teased you. You glared back up at him "Well maybe if you would slow down instead of throwing me around like a lunatic I would be better!", you snapped. He chuckled, but slowed down enough that you could keep up and learn the dance. But once you seemed to get your bearings he sped up again.

This continued all night- the song would change and he would slow down so you could learn the new dance but speed up once you got it. All the while, the only thing you had to drink was whiskey. It did not take long for you to be truly drunk, your vision starting to spin and your movements becoming clumsy. Your legs were killing you, you had definitely worn the wrong shoes for this activity.

"Please excuse me for a second.", you smiled up at Alastor and walked off the dance floor. You exited out a back door you saw people use to take smoke breaks to get some fresh air. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes to help concentrate on breathing evenly. You heard the door open beside you but chose to ignore it until you felt a hand on your cheek. You opened your eyes to see Alastor standing over you, his eyes carefully scanning your face. "You truly are as beautiful as a magnolia in May.", he stated before slowly lowering his face to yours.

You gasped into the kiss, losing all train of thought. Weren't you supposed to be rivals? The new vs. the old? In this moment, you no longer cared. He continued holding your face as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket as the kiss continued, it was making you dizzy.

Oh no, you are not just dizzy from the kiss- the alcohol is making it worse. Your stomach started to twist uncomfortably and you had to roughly push Alastor away from you before you turned to the wall and puked your guts up all over yourself. When you were done you stumbled back, vision quickly fading. The last thing you remember before succumbing to complete darkness is a pair of strong arms catching you and the warmth of a chest cradling you.

You reached consciousness slowly, your senses coming to you one-by-one. Unfortunately, the first thing you registered was extreme thirst followed quickly by a pounding headache. You let out a loud groan, turning over in your bed "Fuck" you grumbled out.

A soft chuckle followed by an all-too-chipper "Good morning!" caught your attention. You glared at Alastor over in a chair before mumbling "I am not in the mood for your bullshit this morning.", burying your face in the pillow.

It took you an embarrassing few seconds to register that he was actually in the room with you and was not just a figment of your imagination sent to torture you. You shot up in the bed, making your head spin again. "What are you doing in my...", you trailed off as you took in your surroundings. You were not in your room. The bed you were in was large, with maroon-colored silk sheets. The room had crimson-colored walls with a grand fireplace, in front of which Alastor sat reading the paper. Behind him, the room gave way to a magnificent forest and swamp that made your breath hitch. You were obviously in Alastor's room.

"Al...what am I doing in your room?", you asked as you slowly looked back over at him, heart ready to beat out of your chest in fear of his answer.

"I did not feel comfortable leaving you alone in your room. You were incredibly drunk, I did not want you to asphyxiate if you were to become ill again. So I brought you here where I could keep an eye on you.", he explained calmly, watching your reaction. Your face burned with shame. You had set out to get The Radio Demon to make a fool of himself, but you had become the fool yourself. You turned away, not wanting to see the amusement that surely danced plainly on his face. When you glanced down you frowned.

"How am I wearing my pajamas?", you asked- the accusation plain to hear in your voice. When you glanced back up, Alastor had walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Well, I was not about to let your spew into my bed. So I sent my shadows to your room to retrieve your sleepwear.", he explained matter-of-factly.

"Did they change me too or...?"

"No, I did that.", before you could get upset at that revelation he snapped his fingers and you were suddenly wearing socks. You breathed a sigh of relief, you did not think Alastor would violate your privacy like that but it was nice to have the verification. As you sat there thinking, memories of the night before slowly trickled back into your mind. Alastor had kissed you! But why?

Before you could ask any of the million questions running through your mind he sat at the end of the bed. "Sha, I would like to have a rather important discussion with you if you feel up to it." You nodded and waited for him to continue. "Would you be open to me courting you?"

You stared at him dumbstruck "Huh?" was all you could muster out. Was this really happening? Did Alastor just ask to date you?

"I have been admiring you from afar for some time now. I must admit I am rather taken by you. I enjoy our back-and-forth banter and admire your wit. You are such a strong-minded woman, and are not afraid to speak exactly what you are thinking. I would like the opportunity to explore our relationship a bit further if you assent."

Your jaw hit the floor, you had no idea how to respond. Alastor admired you? He wanted to have a more formal relationship? None of this was making sense to you at the moment but your heart was soaring. You had been hiding your attraction to the demon behind your crude jokes about his age. You'd be lying if you said you would not want to get to know him better as well.

"It is rude to stare Dear.", Alastor grinned at you. You had not stopped gaping at him while you processed your thoughts. "Y-Yes, I would be open to that." You shyly smiled back at him.

"One more thing, how much about your biology do you know?", he asked as he shifted closer to you, closing the distance between you two. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in just a few months the cervid mating season will be upon us.", he explained slowly. You crinkled your brows in confusion. "You arrived in hell very shortly after the last mating season. I was not sure how much about your deer form you had learned. If you find our courting satisfactory...I would very much like to claim you this season." He stared at you intently, searching your eyes for your reaction. He was leaning so far into your space that only a few inches separated you. His want was practically palpable.

Your mind went blank again, at a complete loss for words for the moment. This man was just full of surprises. You felt a myriad of emotions- excitement, fear, anticipation, nervousness. But you wanted it, so badly that it shocked you. But, you did not want him to get any more satisfaction at your expense today. So you smirked, "Only if you can keep up you old geezer."

With that you went to get up and dramatically walk out of the room to leave him with his thoughts. But instead you felt your calf muscles strain and knees buckle underneath you. Your legs were so cramped up, damn shoes! Alastor laughed heartily at you as you flushed tomato red. "You are not quite as limber as you ought to be for your age My Doe. Your endurance could use a bit of work.", he tutted at you helping you to your feet. You stretched your sore legs out a bit until you could at least shuffle around.

Before you could turn away Alastor grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. "A final tidbit of information- did you know that deer can mate consecutively for 72 hours?", he watched as your eyes widened to saucers, leaning in until his lips just barely caressed the fluff of your ears. "If I were you Ma Petite Biche (My Little Doe), I'd begin stretching."

[nkogneatho]

you would be lying if you said you weren't intimidated to meet the gojo clan head but you needed the money and babysitting his grandkids was the only job offer you had managed to land. you'd heard about him a lot. clan head yuuta was old enough to be your granfather. of course you were scared and just wanted to get over with this interview without having the urge to kill the man in front of you. old geezers are scary. and they are annoying, ugly—oh

oh.

but yuuta wasn't. he was scary, sure. the first thing that caught your eye was the dark eyebags. on anyone else, it would look ugly but on him? it had you bewitched.

"please have a sit." fuuuuuuck. he was so soft spoken even if he had some ruggedness to his voice. contrary to the old geezers you've dealt with. you don't speak, just nod and take a seat on the zabuton opposite to him. "was it hard to find the place?"

"uhm...no. you have the whole estate so..." you say meekly. he chuckles. it's low but it's endearing.

"i see. well, as my assistant told you on the phone, wife's not in the picture. i lost my son and daughter-in-law to the missions, leaving my two grandkids behind—"

"i am so sorry for your loss," you interrupt, sympathizing with him. although you've heard it on the phone before, hearing him say it hurts. you cannot imagine what he's going through. he shoots a warm smile your way, accepting your condolences.

"although i do know how to raise kids, think i've lost my touch after all these years. plus the clan head responsibilities take too much time off my day. i need someone to not only look after them but make them feel like they have a normal childhood just like everyone else."

"i understand. losing parents at such an early age, when they can't even form proper sentence, is cruel." yuuta has a hint that whatever you just said might have been coming from a place of personal experience but he chooses not to bring it up. the atmosphere is suddenly very gloomy so he decides to change the subject.

"anyways. as you know, i am an old man now. it's hard to remember things or do things on my own so you're basically babysitting me too." he knows it's lame. but he watches your expression. you're clearly flushed. of course, i am. have you ever seen a mirror?

"yes, sir." fuck. fuckfuckfuck. his cock stirred at the way you cooed that sir. he knows he should tell you that he is comfortable enough if you call him by his name but now that he's heard call you that? no way in hell he is going to correct you.

his cock kept twitching the whole interview. he knew he had to keep you. yes you had the right skils for the job but he's also willing to see what else you can do. how far can he push you.

yuuta gave you a warm smile, walking you to the exit, his yukata thankfully hiding his boner.

"congratulations. see you next week, sweetest."

[sea-lanterns]

im soo glad we're talking about old women

imagine ur old gf trying to figure out technology 😓 shes so bad at everything, she can't even call u without messing up somehow

but she's such a clueless sweetie how can u be mad at her?

u explain everything patiently over and over again to her, occasionally giggling to urself about how stupid she becomes when it comes to modern technology 💔

she gets annoyed at u making fun of her though so after another failed attempt of hers to text properly and u giggling yet again, she throws the phone behind her on the bed and grabs u by the waist to pin u down onto the bed and show u something she's an expert at

now who's the clueless one? u clearly after she's fucked u stupid and all u can do is moan her name and drool 💕💕

- 🫐 anon

Cackling because I’m imagining you sending your older gf a nude via text, and when she receives it at work, she’s absolutely flabbergasted because she had no idea you could send naked pictures through text.

I can imagine her not really knowing much about taking photos in general, so when she tries to send you a nude back in the bathroom, all you recieve is a weird-looking selfie of her because she forgot to switch the camera around 😭😭 she meant to send you a picture of her pussy/dick, not her face…

If you bully her over text though for not knowing how to take a proper nude (jokingly, ofc) I can see her getting mad and driving home to fuck you angrily. Sure this old geezer doesn’t understand sexting and nudes, but she does understand that she could make you a babbling, drooling mess the moment she gets home <3

Who’s the dumb girl now?

[warping-realities]

The Last Curse of the Dark Lord

(Revised and improved version)

It’s all over; it’s finally all over. Harry couldn’t quite believe that, after all this time, all his losses, Voldemort had finally been vanquished. The young lad began to crack a timid smile in the midst of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, only to be hit by a wave of energy he’d never felt before in his life, accompanied by the cold voice of the Dark Lord whispering to him.

“You might think you’ve defeated me, Potter, but even in death, the Dark Lord's revenge comes for you. This is my final curse, and it will take everything you love and make Dumbledore , that muggle lover, worst nightmare came to life. This goes for both of you; he who mixes with pigs must live like one.”

At that moment, the boy lost consciousness, unaware that his famous scar was fading away, leaving behind flawless skin.

...

“You didn’t do what I asked. You never treated Harry like a son. He didn’t know anything but neglect and often cruelty because of you. The best that can be said is that he at least escaped the horrible damage you inflicted on the poor lad sitting between you.”

Harry dreamt of an old man with long, white hair and a beard. Sitting in one of the armchairs in his aunt and uncle’s sitting room, he could’ve sworn he recognised the man, but that was impossible; the Dursleys would never let a doddering old git like that cross their threshold, let alone sit in their pristine living room and speak to them in such a way. As he strained to remember where he knew the old geezer from, the dream slowly unravelled as the lad experienced a succession of even more bizarre dreams before finally falling into a deep sleep.

...

Harry awoke in his room at his aunt and uncle’s posh house. For a moment, he thought he was back in his old room at number 4 Privet Drive, but that didn’t make sense, just like those odd dreams he knew he could never talk about in that house. Not that he had the slightest interest in doing so; he wasn’t some sort of weirdo, after all. The dreams involved a school of magic and a Lord… Vol… Vold… something. Bizarre. He stretched, rubbed his eyes, and sat up in bed. For a moment, he thought about putting on his glasses, but then remembered he hadn’t needed them for years, ever since his aunt and uncle had forked out for an expensive corrective surgery. Blimey, the Dursleys would give him and Dudley anything they wanted, as the room full of tech gadgets and boxing equipment attested. Still feeling drowsy, the lad scratched his powerful pecs, sensing he was forgetting something very important.

He forced his sluggish mind to try to remember and… he knew there was something planned with Dudley, something his cousin really wanted, and he, as his best mate, would go along. No, no, that wasn’t right, an annoying voice nagged in his head, soon drowned out by a louder and much thicker voice. Mate, today was an important day; he just needed to remember why, but thinking had never been his strong suit. Ever since they were little, Dudley had been the leader, and he was a good follower. Dudley was much brighter, after all. And speaking of the devil, the blonde, muscular lad appeared in his cousin’s doorway at that moment.

“Oi, Goblin! You still haven’t got up, sleepyhead? Get a move on; today’s the big day!”

Harry frowned at the nickname he loathed. His cousin was the only one who didn’t risk getting a proper beating for addressing him like that, although he rarely called him that inside the house for fear of irritating his parents. Dudley exuded confidence, dressed in the smart attire the Dursleys so loved to see on both of them. If only they knew… they’d do nothing but come up with some excuse for the pair’s antics, as always. Letting his cousin pass unharmed, he scratched his head, lost in foggy thoughts.

“Yeah, I know it’s the big day, Big D… just can’t remember why.”

“Potter, how stupid are you? Thank goodness I’m the brains around here! Go have your breakfast; Father wants a word with you before we head out. Put on some clothes and shave that scruff; you know how he gets when he thinks we’re slacking.”

Harry felt butterflies in his stomach, the fear of his uncle’s explosion settling in. But why? Uncle Vernon had never raised his voice at him. The man treated him like a prince.

“Potter, you idiot! You shouldn’t have drunk so much last night. Bloody Piers and his bets,” the young lad muttered as he grabbed the first bits of clothing he found on the floor.

He descended the stairs, still groggy, stopping beside the cupboard under the stairs and staring at it for a few seconds, with the strange image of his uncle locking him in there. Nonsense. He burst out laughing just imagining it.

“What the hell was in those drinks?” he thought, taking a few steps before stopping again, looking at the coffee table in the living room covered in photos of him and his cousin. He scratched his head, with the odd feeling that the images should be moving. If Uncle Vernon heard such nonsense, he could really lose his temper. For some reason, he was surprised to see himself in those photos, as if, for some strange reason, he shouldn’t be there.

The first image showed a young Petunia, flanked by Harry and Dudley on a winter outing about a year after he moved in with them. He was astonished at how thin he looked.

The second was a photo of Vernon with the two boys in his office at Grunnings, the drill company he was director of before making a very profitable deal with old Mr. Mason some years back and then expanding the business into other areas. That business agreement guaranteed them the manor where they lived today among many other advantages.

Harry remembered that day well; after all, it was his twelfth birthday, and he deserved to have that day all to himself. As a reward for giving in, he got a video game and a television just for himself, so he wouldn’t have to share with Dudley, which his cousin thought was a brilliant idea, perhaps because it had been his idea. Strangely, the image of a woman screaming at the sight of an owl flying through the living room window popped into his mind. What the hell was that? An owl in the sitting room? Harry had never been the imaginative type; that drink really must have been poisoned. Piers was going to get a right hiding when Harry saw him again.

Next to it, there was a black and white photo of him and Dudley at Smeltings, the school they both attended until a few days ago. That one was taken on their first day of school. Once again, Harry was flooded with old memories, him and Dudley trying on the uniform that barely fit the pair’s bulk, just before Harry’s eleventh birthday, the two of them engaging in a lively tussle with the sticks that were part of the school uniform.

Of course, the two later used those sticks on far more interesting targets. Finally, there was a photo of the two of them at 15 years old in the boxing ring, the sport responsible for turning all the fat they’d accumulated over the years into muscle power. It was in the boxing team that the two earned their nicknames: Big D for Dudley, thanks to his impressive build, and Goblin for Harry, who, being the shortest in the team had to resort to some tactics that were seen as vicious by some people, earning him that moniker.

Still with the memory of those fun afternoons in mind, the lad entered the kitchen, greeted by the smile on his uncle’s face.

“Morning, Uncle Vernon.”

“Harry, me boy, I need to have a word with you… what are you doing?” The man stopped upon seeing the lad serving a plate for him.

“Sorry, Uncle, is there something wrong with the eggs?”

“No, they’re perfect, but why are you serving? You’ve never done anything like that in your life. Hahaha. Clever lad, trying to please your old uncle. Sit down, Harry; you don’t need to try and butter me up. I just want to ask you a favour.”

Harry sat down at the table, pensive. What the hell was happening to him that day? Was it just the hangover?

“I know where you and Dudley went last night. Don’t get me wrong, lad; I reckon every healthy boy should enjoy life. But I ask you not to let your aunt see. Son, your dad... he was a right piece of work, sorry to say it again, but it’s true. That man could drink properly, and that’s what worries Petunia. So, keep it for Mallorca. Enjoy yourselves; after all, it’s the first time you and Dudley are going off alone to our seaside house.”

Harry’s first instinct was to shout at his uncle to defend his dad, but why would he do that? His dad had died in a car accident, probably drunk, after dragging his mum around the country. Harry liked a good drink too, but he and Dudley would have to be more discreet, especially if the Dursleys had noticed. For a long time, the two lads had avoided showing all their activities, even knowing that the Dursleys would support them; but what they didn’t see, they didn’t feel. And it was precisely by remembering this the lad broke into a smile and spoke to his uncle.

“I’ll go, Uncle, but I assure you that what happened last night was a one-off. Dudley and I’ve never drunk before; it was all Gordon and Piers’s idea. I swear.”

“I knew it! I told Petunia yesterday: ‘Tunia, our boys wouldn’t do something like that. We’ve raised them well. They’re good lads, and we’re good parents. Isn’t that right, lad?’”

“You’re the best, Uncle! Now I’ll go get changed; after all, it’s the big day.” Mallorca! How could he forget? They’d been organising this for months, finally off on holiday alone to do whatever they wanted. He’d been a bit slow if he’d forgotten about it.

After getting ready and grabbing his bags, Harry went to find his cousin, who was already waiting for him in the shiny new car he’d received as a birthday present for his eighteenth. Harry was counting the days to his own birthday, knowing he’d get a machine like that too. He and Big D were itching to race each other. They’d wanted to do that for years, although Petunia had been inexplicably firm in her refusals, probably due to how she lost her sister.

And speaking of her, his aunt was waiting for him in the front garden while Dudley laughed at seeing his dad struggle to get into the sporty car he’d driven back from the airport. Aunt Petunia turned to Harry, looking at him with her pale eyes, which for a brief moment made the lad think will be filled with resentment, but which instead showed adoration.

“Harry, dear, I may not like your father; he wasn’t worthy of your mother, but Lily… Lily was eccentric. If you knew about the horrible boy she was hanging about with when we were young! But when you lost your mother, I lost my sister. But she left you to me, and I’ve done everything to make sure you had everything you wanted, just like Dudders. My two boys all grown up! Off on your own! Do take care of each other!”

“Don’t worry, Aunt Petunia; Dudders and I will look after ourselves. I promise we’ll call every day!” If we remember, thought the lad, smiling inwardly.

“Get a move on, Potter! Time for a bit of fun!” shouted his cousin from the car.

....

A few days later, with his stubble at a length he knew would drive the girls wild, Harry strolled down the sunny streets of Magaluf, heading to meet his cousin, grinning without a care in the world as if he owned the place.

Upon arriving at the beach, Dudley was easy to spot; he was easily the biggest bloke on the shore, and it was hard to believe his cousin was only eighteen. With a mischievous grin, Big D pointed to a group of younger boys.

“Potter, look at those little nippers; they’re begging for a beating.”

“True, but they can wait,” Harry replied. Not used to being challenged, Dudley turned to his cousin.

“And can I ask why, Goblin?”

“The reason, Big D, is those two lovely birds eyeing us up. The redhead’s mine!” Harry replied.

“And you reckon you can pull a fit bird like that, Potter?”

“You know I can, Big D. Once they’ve had a taste, they always come back,” Harry said, pointing to his member.

“They love my magic wand!”

[neoplatinum]

speed racer | nicha 'minnie' yontararak

summary: after the loss of your mentor, you reconnect with an old friend. also to discuss growing up around each other.

pairing: minnie x street racer!reader

themes: childhood friends to lovers, angst, sad minnie :(, small character 'death', mentions of yuqi

wc: 1.6k

eyes on the road, hand's on the wheels and keep your head leveled. that's what your mentor said to you when he offered to let you drive his road racer when you were thirteen. now at the age of twenty something and the loss of your mentor, you try to keep his teaching in your mind when you race. the only attachment you have left is his modded mk4 supra and a pack of half used cigarettes and lighter from his last days.

no one heard from him since, everyone agreed that he has passed away, but you knew better. that man was resilient and able to get himself even out of the worst situations, so you were confused when his family showed up asking where he had been.

his last words to you were, "drive." but there was nothing left for you here. in a past hobby that led to more injuries than a cash prize, you were determined to leave the street racing scene.

sometimes you race though, whenever minnie calls you to. one of the closest friends you had growing up. growing up around each other whenever her father gave you racing lessons or even just spending dinner together. both of you had grown up orbiting around each other but never collided until her father disappeared.

the funeral procession took place weeks ago, but you couldn't find the strength to attend. instead you opt to take his favorite supra out for a long long ride, reminiscing of his drifting techniques and his shifts. deciding it was the proper way to honor his disappearance, you take his supra out for every weekend.

tonight you find minnie's car out on an overlook as she stares out into the scenery of the distant city. her eyes glossy and arms crossed.

"hey." you start when you step out of her old man's car. she still hasn't registered that there's someone next to her. "minnie?" you call out to her.

"oh hi," she starts wiping away the tears that are rushing down her face, rubbing with her palms and wiping them off on her jeans. you offer a tissue and stand next to her.

"how are you doing?" you start.

"well how well can anyone really be doing when their father's missing and everyone thinks he is dead." she explains in a shaky voice and holding her own arms for comfort. you go into the trunk and hand her a jacket to wrap around.

"here." you offer, to which she smiles seeing the jacket. an old jacket that was once her father's. large and old and worn, with small holes and cutes along the sleeves. she can tell that you've been wearing it frequently.

"this jacket...you know he loved you right?" she starts, watching you stare into the city with a heavy heart. "he always talked about how much you reminded him of his young self."

"i know that old geezer loved me, i truly do." you begin. shuffling your feet and kicking pebbles to avoid looking at minnie.

"sometimes i thought he loved you more than his own daughter," minnie explains slowly, you look at her confused "i used to resent how much time he spent with you instead of his own daughter. how he could devote hours to a kid that isn't his when he has his own."

you nod, its obvious what circling around each other since you were young has put you two into. she resented you for the attention you were given. on the other hand you resented her for being the kid that he went home to and spent time with, leaving you to sleep outside and away from their family.

"glad to know we both felt the same." you grin and she drops her jaw.

"what?" she exclaims.

"i resented you too minnie, you were the kid he actually went home to, i was left to sleep alone in the shed while you were his family. i always just felt like a stray, never part of the family." you turn more serious and face her as you talk.

she stops to think about your words and feelings, to understand your point of view and why you feel the way that you do.

"he really is something else." she laughs a bit and turns back to face the city. "i miss him."

"me too minnie."

she looks at your features, ones that are familiar and ones that are new. not seeing each other for so long has definitely been jarring.

"i see you still take his car out for spins." she glances at her father's black supra. she circles the car before settling into the passenger seat.

you get into the driver's seat and watch her marvel at the car that was once her fathers.

"stupid dad, him and his cars." she lets out tears when she sees the photo of him and minnie in the glove box, a treasured photo that she never knew he kept. you smile at the photo and lean over.

"lets go on a ride, i'll follow you." you smile at her. she nods and settles back into her own purple car. turning the engine into a loud roar before setting off into the night, you following behind closely as you both share the same feelings of driving.

--

you both reach a local convenience store by the end of the night. as you both eat cup noddles by the window, minnie turns to you.

"how are you and yuqi doing?" she asks, immediately you cringe at the question. rather unfortunate memories resurface when you think of song yuqi.

you answer honestly, "she dumped me." digging into your bowl of noodles and slurping loudly. minnie nods to process the answer; you can see her curiosity overflowing.

"what happened?" she continues in a more gentle tone. her eyes following your eyeline.

you sit and ponder the breakup as well as the aftermath. a hard topic to go back to, considering yuqi and minnie were close friends until you started dating yuqi.

you cough a bit, "she says that im in love with someone else." the air becomes stiff, yuqi hasn't spoken to minnie in a long time so she's suprised by the answer.

"are you? in love with someone else?" she asks and hands you a napkin. in between bites you try and think about the question because it has you stumped for weeks.

"not that i can think of." it's hard to come to terms with your own feelings for other people. instead, most of the girlfriends you've had all approached you first.

"then you're dumb." minnie bites out.

"do you know something that i don't know?" you counter.

she nods and points at you. "when we used to hook up, way before yuqi, you called it quits because you liked me." she explains.

"no i didn't." you roll your eyes, you hooked up with minnie because it was safe; it wasn't complicated like feelings were. you both understood each other's boundaries, never crossing past them. "that wasn't why i called it quits."

"then why did you call it quits?" minnie prods at your brain.

"it was probably because you said you liked someone." you mutter back, eating more of the ramen you had.

"nope, didn't like anyone at the time." she smiles as she says it, "you were just scared that you were falling for me." she grins in that familiar manner; when she knows something you don't know.

"i didn't like you then minnie." you conclude, a little exhausted from all this interrogating. "did you know that yuqi was uncomfortable with us hanging out?"

she nods, "yeah, it's why we drifted apart. she thought i wanted to steal you."

"as if." you scoff at the idea.

"she wasn't wrong though, i did want to steal you from her." she goes on. the shock is written all over your face.

minnie nods and explains that she used to like you too, but her dad forbade you two from ever dating. "he hated the idea of us dating. said i should find someone who isn't like him: not dangerous, you know."

"i agree, you should find someone better."

"see, that's why you're just like him, always thinking i deserve better, when all i want is you." she continues, and you let her. she explains how she always wanted you around, and when you called it quits, it broke her heart.

you're confused, but she explains that she's always liked your resilience and that yuqi dating you is what made their friendship distant; she couldn't bear to see you two together.

"yuqi is nothing like me, she's loud, she's brash and she gets what she wants. i've waited for years to even ask you how you truly feel about me. all along i've liked you." she says.

you nod, a little shocked by all this, minnie never mentioned that she liked you all these years, even when you told her you wanted to get to know yuqi better.

minnie is a woman that feels hard, feels all her emotions and lets others take her spot, even if she deserves it. and you feel awful, knowing that her feelings were never properly reciprocated. also that younger you was too caught up in your own suffering that you had strung minnie along.

"i'm sorry for dumping this all on you all of a sudden." her shoulders drop.

"it's okay, i needed to hear this. to finally understand us." you explain back. it's strange, seeing minnie after all this time, so familiar yet she's changed, grown into herself more. trying to better grasp the opportunities that she has. meanwhile you're staying afloat lost in yourself, confused where to go next.

"hey, if i beat you down that mountain, you owe me a date." she grins, shaking her car keys.

"and if i beat you?" you ask back.

"then i owe you a date." she says back.

you laugh out, "fair deal. let's drive."

--

a/n: don't know how i feel about the ending but i wanted to do a street racer story for a minute. wanted to incorporate more about street racing but i got tired. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Gentle Hands

Ilsa Faust x Fem! Reader

NSFW 18+- MINORS WHO INTERACT CAN AND WILL BE BLOCKED.

Summary: What happens when a dangerous spy gets disavowed? She goes right back to her roots. It’s unfortunate that those roots land her into a months long obsession with the current tenant of her childhood home.

Warnings: Yandere/Stalker Ilsa- Non-consensual watching of intimate activities, clothes stealing (panty stealing), non-con touching of non-sexual areas, masturbation (Reader and Ilsa)

A/N: I do not condone this behavior in real life. This is a character study, get OFF my ass. <3

Word Count: 2.0K

[Told from Ilsa's POV, third person.]

It was normal, to be this involved in someone’s life, certainly. If everyone had the skills that Ilsa did they would do what Ilsa did. This girl, this (Reader), she was interesting. Unusually so. She'd done good things to Ilsa's childhood town home. There were plants everywhere, and the windows no longer fogged over in the winter, which meant she'd probably renovated the old town home herself. Or perhaps the landlords had changed. Ilsa didn't look into those details; those were boring, useless details. What was more interesting than the renovations was the person who continued to spruce up the home. Fresh wallpaper had been put up the day Ilsa had knocked on the door. Ilsa remembered this very clearly, using her proficiency for keen detail retainment to remember the day vividly.

Fall leaves clung to the stone pathway that led up to the town home. Ilsa knocked on the door of her childhood home, fully prepared for any sort of introduction, any sort of grumpy old geezer swinging the door open and letting out a tired 'What are ya ringing the door bell for, love?'. But that wasn't what happened.

'Hiya, how can I help you?' a soft voice asked, opening the door to reveal a kind looking young woman.

'Hi, I'm Ilsa Auster, I used to live here. I wanted to take a look around the old house for a moment, check to see if anyone I knew still lived here.' Ilsa softly explained.

The young woman smiled back.

'Oh, I see. My name is (Reader). I'm afraid I don't recognize you or know too much about the previous tenants.'

'I wouldn't expect you to, this was years ago, you see.' Ilsa smiled thinly.

The young woman seemed to pause for a moment, deciding on something.

'Well if you'd like to come in and have a cup of tea, you're more than welcome to.' she offered, so sweet.

Ilsa had come in for tea. She'd seen the freshly wallpapered living room, smelled the drying paint, and she'd run her fingers along the new countertops the new landlord had installed. You were sweet to Ilsa the entire time, giving her the little information you had about Simon Faust, the elderly gentleman that had passed on from complications related to kidney failure, as well as a few tenants in between. The tea you served was made the proper English way, with loose tea leaves in a metal tea strainer, left to steep in a pot for five minutes while Ilsa had chatted with you. The sugar cubes you offered were sickly sweet, just like you. None of it would have made Ilsa do what she did next, none of it would have been something she'd dwell on at all, had you not touched her.

You'd given a soft squeeze to her shoulder as you bade her farewell at the door. A tender touch, full of trust, goodwill, kindness. Not too many people trusted Ilsa enough to touch her like that. In her line of work people didn't touch. A hand for support, a brief handshake for introduction, but mostly punches, slaps; hands wielded like weapons to leave bruises at the bare minimum, to end her life in the extremes. A kind touch was unheard of in her past life. With one small gesture, you had given Ilsa a taste of the life she'd given up working for MI6. It was this touch that ruined her; that made her ravenous for more.

That's why she was in front of her computer, browsing the cameras she'd placed inside your home. Hundreds of cameras to capture you from every angle as your hands worked. Those hands, petting your cat, watering your plants, cooking dinner (breakfast, lunch), touching anything and everything in that gentle way of yours. Those hands that soaped up your body in the shower, scrubbing yourself clean after a long day, those hands that lingered in the valley of your breasts and over the soft expanse of your stomach and roved over your bare thighs.

Those hands.

Tonight Ilsa was in for her favorite treat. You were tired, shifting uncomfortably, but not quite satisfied with something about yourself. Ilsa opened up a period recording app, tracking your cycle. She'd set this up this early on. It was interesting how predictable your behavior was in relation to your cycle; fascinating, truly. She smirked with glee. You were ovulating tomorrow. No wonder you were so uncomfortable.

'Feeling extra uptight, princess?' Ilsa whispered as she watched you squirm. 'Gonna give me a show?'

You gave in after five minutes. Phone down, reaching into your bedside table, bringing out that tiny little vibrator of yours that you adored. Ilsa had seen you use it a few times, but you used it most frequently during this window of heightened hormonal activity. You browsed on your phone, bringing up a cute little story. One of your 'fanfictions'. Ilsa could open your phone's software and see what you were reading if she really wanted to, but she didn't. Not now, anyways. She watched in excitement as you pulled your pajama pants down your legs, underwear too. Ilsa bit her lip. If you were taking them off all the way, this was going to be a good show.

The vibrator buzzed quietly. She watched in anticipation as you placed it against your clit, the soft gasp when you did.

'Princess, I might need to join in on this.' Ilsa smirked, crossing and uncrossing her legs.

You swiped through your phone reading avidly as the buzz continued. Your hips would wriggle a little, and you'd let out a soft 'hmm' or a breathy 'hihch' every once in a while, but that was it. Ilsa knew you weren't vocal. No, you were quiet. Ilsa shifted in her seat as you increased the vibrator's speed. She watched breathlessly as you seemed to be getting more into whatever you were reading.

'Oh, princess, now I know you're the quiet type, but you're putting on a show.' Ilsa whispered to the screen, eyes dilated.

She watched as your eyes rolled back and you panted quickly, going rigid for a few moments and then relaxing. The vibrator was back in the drawer before Ilsa had taken her jeans all the way off.

"No, damn it!' Ilsa slammed her fist on her desk. 'You're not playing fair, we're supposed to do it together!'

She watched as you walked into the bathroom, sitting on the toilet and peeing. Ilsa groaned, slapping her mouse on the pad, browsing through her stored videos. She found her favorite of you, the shower video. It was sixteen minutes long, eye candy for the intense voyeur that Ilsa had become. The setting of the video was sensual. You were in your shower, and you'd set up candles, a singular soft light illuminating the otherwise candlelit bathroom. Your hair was tied up to prevent it getting wet, and all your movements were slow. You started out carefully, using that expensive bar soap you'd bought, lathering up your arms and legs, moving slowly. Ilsa groaned at the sight, pulling her panties down her legs, running her thumbs up and down her inner thighs.

You reached for that special scrub you bought, the expensive shit. She watched as you exfoliated, paying special attention to your breasts and your ass. Ilsa moaned at the sight, starting to rub slow circles around her clit. You rinsed the scrub off, shaving your legs and your armpits. Ilsa moved her fingers slightly faster as she watched, you were propping your legs up one at a time, and that angle was spectacular. Ilsa felt herself moving too close to orgasm too quickly, so she moved her fingers down, circling her entrance, dipping her fingers in carefully. She didn't want to orgasm yet, not when the main act was just starting.

Ilsa watched in silent awe as you reached for the shower head. It was new, another addition you'd added sometime ago, before Ilsa. You carefully adjusted the setting until the pulse of water was thin and violent. Your water pressure was too high, so you unscrewed the shower head just a titch. One leg on the shower ledge, the other straight, albeit barely bent, and when the water hit your clit just right, you allowed yourself to moan. Ilsa let out her own breathy moan in response, her fingers rubbing that spongey spot inside her while she used her other hand to rub her clit. She bit her lip as she watched your thighs shake, one of your hands slamming against the shower wall, keeping yourself up. Finally, it happened. You let out a soft series of gasps and whines, your leg shaking as you came.

The sight of that, the sound, the angles of the cameras, it was enough to get Ilsa orgasming. She let out her own quick pants and soft moans as she rubbed her clit furiously, working herself through that high. The video ended with you gently running a softer stream of water between your labia, rinsing everything clean.

'Divine.' Ilsa let out a breathy chuckle.

Flipping tabs, Ilsa returned to checking up on you, skimming the video feed. You hadn't done anything interesting in the sixteen minutes she'd been replaying your best performance yet. You'd done a few housekeeping things such as returning to clean your vibrator, remake the bed, change your panties.

Your panties.

Ilsa switched cameras, zooming on them. They were soaked, caused by ovulation no doubt. Ilsa bit her lip, envisioning just how wet they would feel in between her fingertips. You looked tired, throwing the panties into your laundry basket. Your exhaustion was to be expected. Ilsa had ensured that you would always be ready to sleep at a set time; she'd switched your vitamins you'd take at night with sleep aids. You wouldn't know the difference, they looked the same as your iron pill, and you weren't tasting them to know the difference.

Ilsa smiled, pulling up her pants, grabbing the key she'd had made for your home. You were a silly girl, leaving that spare key in the flowerpot for when your Mom came over. It was a three hour errand to go to the locksmith, and no one ever asked a polite English lady about why the key was a spare instead of the original.

She slipped into your house through the back door, walking nonchalantly. Your neighbors didn't pay attention to who you had over anyways. Ilsa had talked to them a few times. They smoked too much weed to remember her, asking for her name everytime. Upon slipping in, she fed your cat a small treat. The 'Temptations' kind.

'Gonna stay quiet for me pretty girl? Yes you are.' Ilsa whispered, petting the cat until she purred, leaving a few treats to keep her occupied.

Slipping up the stairs, Ilsa quietly walked into your room, smiling at your slumbering face. Opening your closet, she grabbed those still wet panties, rubbing her fingers over the slick. Ilsa pocketed them. Ditsy girl you were, always forgetting which pairs of underwear you'd worn and which ones you hadn't. Ilsa creeped up to your bed, touching your sleeping form. You were too sleepy to notice, with your special pill and all.

'Hi princess. Don't you know better than to tease me like that? Your performance today wasn't all that stimulating.' Ilsa quietly cooed.

Taking your limp body in her arms, Ilsa was tempted to touch your new pair of panties, to see if they were wet, but she felt like that wasn't necessary. Besides, she wanted you to be awake the first time you two were together. She wasn't into fucking people when they were asleep; Ilsa didn't like how quiet they were. Besides, she'd already gotten off today. Ilsa decided on pulling you into her lap, cradling you quietly. She took one of your hands in hers, squeezing gently.

'Love these hands. Such gentle hands you've got.'

Ilsa kissed your face softly, but not your lips. No, she wanted you to be awake for that. She wanted you to remember Ilsa when she finally decided to make her move. But it wasn't time for that yet. Ilsa simply wasn't finished making the perfect person for you to love.

<----------------------------->

[marcellaasblog]

Eyes for the Geezer.

Main masterlist

Older Eddie munson x reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Wyatt takes you to go meet his parents for the first time.When you find out Wyatt has been cheating on you threw out y'all whole relationship,you take Eddie up on his offer but will that do you any good in the end?

Warnings for the whole series: cheating, divorce, angst,smut, alcohol, smoking,p in v,daddy kink, pervert Eddie, Wyatt's mom is an ass to you, mention of Steve, insecure reader,dom Eddie, switch reader, Wyatt mom is a cheater,huge age gap,insecure Eddie, and of course fluff with a Happy ending??

Author's notes: Eddie is 50 reader is 27 . I'm gonna keep the same names from the old story. Beth (Eddie's wife) Wyatt (beth & Eddie son) mack/Mackenzie (Wyatts ex girlfriend)

So I thought I could put part 2 and 3 together with this,but that didn't happen it just looked all over the place and it was too long ,so why not just tease y'all with what I have.

Part 2 // part 3

part 1

.

.

Having a boyfriend was a tough situation to handle.

Being in relationships scared you.

Falling in love while your young fucked with you head on multiple acassions.

You had a boyfriend here and there,but they never seemed to last .

Growing up you had your little fantasy about getting married and having kids, being the best parent you could possibly be.

Which was something you never had.

You wanted to be the absolute best for yourself.

Was that too much to ask for?

You had a rough relationship with your mom,she would always say things that put you in an uncomfortable position.

You couldn't put your finger on why your mom treated you like if you didn't have feelings.

On the other hand you and your dad had a pretty okay relationship but wasn't as great either.you were the only child which makes it look like it was the best situation to live in.

It wasn't that you were lonely, very lonely.

The only thing you could do to fix your problem was to make friends,it was never an easy thing to do.you had to deal with lunches alone staying in the locker room for gym and no friends to talk to during class or passing periods,maybe the teachers but at that they really never bothered.

After graduation you finally felt free and excited to be away from family and mean school kids.You have goals and plans from your life you knew what you wanted and nothing was going to stop you from accomplishing them.

Well you thought.

.

.

.

You met Wyatt Munson on your 25 birthday at a local bar across from your campus,he was beautiful and unbelievable someone like him would walk up to someone like you.

Wyatt was tall,tan skin, Nice hair that framed his face perfectly as a bit of his fell onto his forehead.he was a proper man and definitely a Mama's boy by heart.

Y'all talked for about an hour straight having drinks come back and forth to y'all table. Wyatt was pretty, but so fucken borning. You wanted to end the conversation so badly,that's until Wyatt took you both to his hotel room and now he was pretty, borning and a fucken sex God.

Little did you know,you would be spending the next 3 years with him.

.

.

.

Wyatt decided to take a trip out to Hawkins Indiana the place we're he grew up most of his life .You never heard of it but you weren't about to turn down a road trip,you never know maybe y'all learn new things about Wyatt.

It was a 3 hour drive from your location to Hawkins so Wyatt made sure To be ready with blankets ,snacks and a good playlist.

Wyatt let you sleep on the way there knowing you get fussy if you don't have your special naps threw out your day.

How sweet of a boyfriend he is to you. Your so lucky.

.

You heard the sound of rain hitting your windshield ,your eyes are foggy and you're not ready to open them quiet yet. That's until you notice that the car was not moving anymore You groaned and stressed out your body hearing a thump from your dashboard as you hit your leg on it.

"Stuiped fucken dashboard." You get from your seat removing your blanket from your tired frame as you get out of the car.

Wyatt rushes next to you grabbing your blanket and hands "slow down baby you're gonna hurt yourself."

Wyatt grabs your hand helping you out of his car as he shuts the door behind you locking as he walks you up the stairs."where the hell are we?" You asked for your blanket from Wyatt.

." we're in Hawkins already and I decided to stop at a hotel tonight instead of heading to my mom's house." Wyatt Opens the door for you allowing you to go in first.

"plus my mom and my dad are probably asleep anyways." Wyatt leads you to the bed, setting you down.

"you should get some sleep baby we got a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

" You nod at your boyfriend's voice. "you gonna join me?"

Wyatt gets up from the bed unwrapping your hands from his waist"not now baby I gotta go get some things done real quick and I'll be back."

Wyatt gets up sliding on his jacket "where are you going so late"?"

You slide off your shoes tucking yourself into the rough covers. "uh you know just getting some drinks with an old friend but I promise I'll be back as soon as I can."

You sit up in bed "with who?" Wyatt scratches his chin. "uhh remember Mack my friend from college I mentioned a couple of times?"

You nod your head "oh yeah I remember,but why so late?" Wyatt grab his keys from the side table. "uh she just wanted to see me thats all"

you looked at Wyatt heading to the door "wait? She? you never told me mack was a girl"

Wyatt chuckled at your words, were you that dumb he thought to himself. "well what do you expect her names mack" you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend .

"fine Just be careful I guess" you laid down as Wyatt opens the door

"yeah yeah I know babe I'm an adult I will see you in a bit I love you" Wyatt heads out the door.

"asshole." you cover yourself up in the blanket drifting back in to your deep sleep .

.

.

.

You woke up to the sun appearing through the white stained curtains.you felt the warmth of your boyfriend's body laying beside you,still tired you slowly turned your body to face your boyfriend to see him heavily asleep. You caress his face slowly putting your hands over his pretty features touching every mole on his face and every strip of hair that fell on his forehead kissing his cheek.

Wyatt groans as he stirs awake"well good morning to you too." Wyatt kisses your forehead as he runs his fingers through your bed hair.

"So you ready to meet my parents" You squint your eyes pulling the covers over your head .

"Oh come on baby don't be dramatic." He pulls the sheets down letting you lean your head on his chest.

"What if they don't like me?" Wyatt rubs your back trying to get you to relax but he knows you're still going to doubt yourself.

" Y/n baby I love you and I promise they will too."' You let out a groaning sound cuddling up into your arms , you kiss his face all the way down to his neck when your eyes catch a mark on the side of his neck. You really didn't think much about it so you let it go.

Maybe it's an old one you gave him?

"Well we better get going, we only have an hour left for room anyways." Wyatt takes you off of his putting you on your back as he gets up from the bed.

Your eyes scan Wyatta's body as he gets up only to see that there were red scratches on his back,his whole back was covered.

"Hey what's wrong with your back? Did you hurt yourself or something?"

Damnit forgot about those.

"Uh no why?" Wyatt asked as he put his shirt back on.

"There's red marks all over your back babe" Wyatt clears his thoughts.

"Um it's probably nothing,let's get dressed already, you're probably going to take forever anyways .' Wyatt walks to the restroom slamming the door .

Fucken dickhead.

Why is he acting so weird all of a sudden?

You got up from bed ready to start your day.

.

.

.

Wyatt stops In Front of this beautiful white house, there was a garden in the front with different kinds of pretty colorful flowers. The grass looks greener than ever. There was also a bird's fountain with a small waterfall in the center of the Yard.

"What the fuck." You whispered as you were admiring his family home.

Wyatt chuckled taking his seatbelt off "it's pretty isn't it"

"It's more then pretty it's fucken magical"

"What you never saw a house before" he Glocks his eyebrow up.

"No.Not like this"

"Well come on then let me show you inside your gonna love it"

Wyatt gets out of the driver side jogging to your side opening the door for you .You take his hand as he puts his keys up pressing the button to like his car to lock it.

You walk up to the house Wyatt can feel your hands getting sweaty."hey,it's gonna be okay babe I promise." You smile at him as he knocks on the door.

"Coming." You hear. Women's voices from inside the house. The older woman opens the door ."Oh my god my baby boy, how have you been?" She squealed in excitement giving Wyatt a big hug giving him kisses all over his face as Wyatt tried to swat her away from him.

She was beautiful. She had dark black short hair.She was curvy and short. She had a couple of tattoos herself which you thought was cool.

You could tell she was Cooking by all the flour she had on her purple top and face.

"Well come on, kids get inside."she waves y'all into the house

The inside was beautiful, the floors were marble and the furniture was this beautiful gray and navy blue. It was definitely very expensive.

She walks you and Wyatt to the kitchen letting y'all have a seat at the table.

"Mom, this is y/n my girlfriend." You smile at Wyatt turning to his mom she walks over to you giving you a big hug "it's nice to finally meet you y/n Wyatts told us a lot about you and by the way my name's beth but you can just call me Ms.Munson" she says giving your arm a big squeeze before returning back to the stove.

"So were is dad?" Wyatt spoke up again.

"He's in the shower and told him he needed to clean up because he smelled." She giggled, stirring whatever might be in the pot.

"What did I tell you about bullying dad mom you know how sensitive he Gets" Wyatt laughs

"Oh calm down he's a big boy he can handle it ,plus I was just fucking around with him he knows that Wyatt."

"Yeah but remember last time he got mad at you for breaking his Garfield mug."

"Maybe he should clean his own hair out of the drain,his hair sheds more than my hair does,like don't get me wrong honey,I love your father's hair but it was way better back then but now it just looks bad." She wrinkled up her nose.

"Why don't you tell him to cut it then." Wyatt asked, taking off his jacket and hanging it behind his chair.

"Believe me, baby I keep on telling him it's not the 80s anymore,so get rid of that shit and it's the same thing everytime. you sound like my dad it's my hair I can do whatever I want with it" she mocks her husband.

God, you're already getting annoyed with her and you barely spoke to this woman.

"Well he does have a point but a trim won't hurt."

"Yes it will hurt, boy it's my hair." A voice said coming from the living room.

"Finally you're out what took you so long,wait let me guess your hair." Beth joked.

"You know it." The older man said, stepping into the kitchen.

Holy shit he was hot!

Like how beth said he had long salt and pepper hair,he was tall and bulky he has a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm and Wyatts and Beth on his Left bicep he was wearing a gray muscle shirt and some old blue work jeans that had a couple of patches on his back pocket,not like you were staring at his ass or anything it just caught your eyes.

I mean he does have a nice ass.

"Ah you must me y/n,I hope." the older man joked,trust me he knew who you were. Eddie brings you and Wyatt into a hug,he smelled like after shave and one of those men's cheap cologne you could find at a pharmacy,and his arms were huge and hugged you tightly as his biceps flexed around your frame you could feel his beard and mustache tickle the top of your forehead and his hot breath on your ear .

"Yeah yeah I mean yes it's great to finally meet y'all,Wyatt tell me a lot about y'all."

"No I don't." Wyatt said as you turned your head around at him giving him a Disappointed Expression.

Eddie chuckled at your flustered face.

"Hey it's alright honey you don't need to impress us" Eddie leans in "I mean I'm already impressed by you from what I know." Eddie whispered into your ear sending chills down your body. You make eye contact with him as he sits right across from you and he sends you a wink.

Eddie knew what he was doing. Your reaction is the same as all the other young women that would be around him,but there was just something so intriguing about you and he wanted to see how long it takes for you to break. You looked like a good girl but once he gets his hands on you ,you sure as hell won't act like one.

He knew it was wrong to try to start anything with his son's girlfriend but at that he knew his son's reputation and it wasn't a good one when it came to relationships.

Wyatt was just like his mom.

So Eddie wanted to have a little fun too.

He made sure to do a little research on you before you came I mean all he needed was your name and boom all social medias appeared

Was he stalking your account for a couple of months now?

Maybe.

Did he jerk off a couple of times to your bikini pictures you posted on Instagram?

Maybe.

Does he have saved photos of you in his phone?

Maybe...okay yes he did.

He knew he needed to take things slow he didn't want to scary you off or make you uncomfortable but after seeing you squirm under his vision he's pretty positive it will go just fine and no one will get hurt.

He hoped.

It sure as hell wouldn't stop Beth from sleeping with her ex Steve or Wyatt still going to go see mack.

Eddie felt bad that you didn't know who Wyatt really was and he sure as hell didn't raise him to be like that.

Is he trying to get back at Beth and teach Wyatt a lesson.

Yes.

Did he really want to fuck you.

Also yes.

His son was no real man too you and his wife was ungrateful.

And Eddie wanted to show you how a real man could treat you

You would find out sooner or later about wyatt and once you do, he's positive you will take up his offer in no time.

But will Eddie's offer be good for you in the long run??

[lev1hei1chou]

By your side

Gojo x reader Genre: Angst to fluff Words: 4.8k Synopsis: Gojo survives the battle in Shinjuku Masterlist

Everything felt like a sick, twisted nightmare. It all started back in 2006, when Gojo and Geto were tasked with escorting the Star Plasma Vessel to Master Tengen. Although the duo tried their best, Riko Amanai met her end, which really affected Gojo.

To make matters worse, your and Gojo's very close friend, Geto, ultimately decided to choose a different path which definitely did not earn the approval of any sorcerer. Well, his ideals weren't the most practical or ethical, but nothing can really be done once he's fixed his mind.

Seasons dont wait for anyone, and just like that, a good number of years passed. You, Gojo and the others you studied with were now teachers at Jujutsu high. A new student by the name of Yuta entered jujutsu high and was welcomed with open arms. Well, not by the higher ups but no one cares about them. You pitied Yuta, for he was haunted by the girl from his past all because of a curse he bestowed upon her unintentionally.

The boy managed to fit in but the news of both him and Rika reached the ears of Geto, who took this as an opportunity to try exterminate all non sorcerers. The night parade of a hundred demons sure was eventful, but it also marked the end of Suguru Geto, the sorcerer.

To finish off his very own best friend with his very own hands was definitely a great ordeal for Gojo, but you were there for him throughout his mourning period. You shared his grief and helped him recover, atleast for the young talents that were now the responsibility of the teachers.

A year passed, and the boy you saw growing up was now old enough to be enrolled in Jujutsu high. You were proud of how Megumi was doing, since you witnessed his growth right from when Gojo brought him in.

History repeated itself when another teenager was put up for execution by the higher ups, but this was for a different cause. It was baffling, as Yuji Itadori was now a vessel of the great Ryomen Sukuna, due to the turn of events.

Megumi took up the task of narrating the events of that night to you. Although it was hard to process the wave of information, one thing was clear. Yuji does not deserve to get executed and this feeling was mutual to you as well as Gojo. You trusted Gojo well enough and knew he wont let it happen.

Months flew by and it was the 31st of October. Many sorcerers were called to Shibuya. A large curtain was cast, and civilians were trapped inside. It was later made clear that it was orchestrated by Pseudo geto, or Kenjaku and this was a plan to seal Satoru Gojo.

It was painful, to say the least. Your lover was now sealed and put out of commission. And seeing your friend's body get used like this was even more disappointing.

Everything now lay in the hands of the active sorcerers, and that itself was a huge burden to bear. Each and every sorcerer went beyond their limits, and that's when Geto's morally gray ideals ran through your head like a broken record. Forcing yourself to shake off the thoughts, you moved on.

The dreadful night came to an end and the aftermath was something no one ever expected. Your comrades were either dead or fatally wounded, the prison realm was in the hands of kenjaku and Sukuna ransacked the entire area within a short period of time.

To make matters worse, Yuji's sentence was now back.

After recovering from your injuries, everything sunk in. Nanami, your closest friend, was gone. Your students went through hell too. Gojo was sealed. And Yaga, was killed by Gakuganji. You werent particularly fond of the old geezer and this only added to how irritating his whole existence was. As fuel to fire, you heard through someone that Yaga was ordered to be executed by the higher ups, which just increased the level of hatred you had for them. Masamichi Yaga, the only proper and trusted adult figure you had in your life, was now gone.

After a list of events, it was obvious that Kenjaku was unstoppable. He went on with his next act of terrorism: The culling games.

The culling games were just as bad as what you faced on the 31st of October. Multiple sorcerers went against each other with only murder in mind, so you had to prepare yourself mentally. You believed in your students' abilities to make it out alive, but who knows what kind of people they'd have to fight.

Most of your comrades were a part of the games, from students to co-workers and the other allies made in the way. It felt like the heavens were against you being peaceful. There was no going back now.

You ended up running into allies, and when talks of the prison realm and unsealing of Gojo Satoru came up, you learnt that the only two items that were capable of nullifying the realm were the Inverted Spear of Heaven and the Black rope. All you could do was facepalm when you realised that the spear of heaven was in a location known only to Satoru, and the rope was burnt away when Miguel fought against Satoru. There wasnt any left. Sweet.

It was hard to deal with the absence of Satoru. Not only was he a significant other, but also a trustable partner and ally when your job was concerned. The one thing that kept you going was the fact that he was still alive, and could be unsealed one day.

And thus, you set out to find other possible ways to unseal him. After battling against a good number of curse users, you met Yuji, Megumi and Hana. You asked them about how they were doing, especially Yuji. Then, you found out that Hana could possibly be the key to unseal Gojo.

A twisted turn of events occurred, and Megumi was now Sukuna's vessel. Who wouldve guessed that the latter had set his eyes on the former. Yuji was no longer the vessel of the king of curses. Tsumiki was a vessel for some curse called Yorozu. Tsumiki was someone who you cared deeply for. She was an extremely caring person who wasnt even capable of causing harm to anyone. To think she was the one to become a vessel was painful, to say the least.

Sukuna battled out against Yorozu, and as an end to it, the latter lost and was killed, thus putting an end to Tsumiki Fushiguro. You wouldnt blame megumi for falling deeper into an abyss of darkness, as his own hands were now stained with his sister's blood.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 13: As of this moment- 9:09 PM. on November 19, 2018- No new players may join the culling game.

A player has added a rule to the culling game. Rule 14: The game ends when all players except Suguru Geto and Fushiguro Megumi have died.

Kogane's voice rang when you were with your allies. "To win, we just need to defeat Kenjaku and Sukuna" Maki said to you and Ui Ui. The young boy retorted stating that it was no easy task. Ofcourse it wasnt, but Satoru Gojo would make his return soon.

Everyone regrouped at the room and Yuji entered. You had a good number of formidable allies which gave hope for the next mission to be a success. Choso handed over a book to Yuji. And everyone in the place were now awaiting the return of the strongest sorcerer.

After a long discussion as to why it wasnt a good idea to unseal Gojo inside the building, the location was moved to a different place. The allies took refuge behind the rocks that lay. Your heart pounded with anticipation and hope. Angel used the jacobs ladder to unseal Gojo but he was nowhere to be seen.

Hours later, you were informed that Gojo was inside Shoko's lab with Ijichi and Ino. You were beyond elated to see the love of your life after 19 grueling days that were anything but uneventful but a hint of nervousness lingered for some reason. With shaky arms, you reached out to the handle. Taking a sharp breath, you opened the door and your breath stopped.

There he sat on the bed. For a moment, you felt like all the weariness from the past one month vanished into thin air after taking one look at the man. He seemed better than you thought, with extra muscles and all that. You pinched yourself slightly to confirm that this was all real, and thats when you teared up a little.

Shoko noticed your presence and signalled the others to exit the room. What a thoughtful soul. Satoru was now looking at you as well, smiling widely like the dork he is and waved at you to come nearby. Taking short steps, you walked and took a seat next to him silently.

"You couldve taken a picture when you stood at the door, it would last longer" he teased while taking your hand. You had prepared yourself beforehand to not cry, considering the fact that he wouldve been overwhelmed with all the news from the time he was gone. The task however seemed impossible as you broke down right there.

Satoru was shocked for a moment but then quickly regained his composure as he pulled you into his lap. Hugging him tightly, you cried, as if he'd disappear if you let him go. He was at a loss for words too, which was very unlike him, but hugged back and peppered soft kisses.

Breathing hard, you pulled away and wiped your face. Looking into his eyes, you took his face in your hands and kissed him softly, hoping to pour in all your feelings through the kiss. He was quick to reciprocate with equal love and even smiled while kissing. You realised how much you had missed him.

Pausing to catch your breath, you leaned your forehead on his, and the silent acts of intimacy conveyed all the unspoken words. You hugged him again. "I met Sukuna and the bastard in Geto's body" he started. Not liking where this was going, you hesitantly nodded. He took that as a sign to continue "We'll fight on the 24th of December".

You knew the date very well. This was inevitable from the start, so you decided to put all your belief on your boyfriend. A relationship is all about trust..right?

The fact that he didnt say anything about Megumi puzzled you, but it was better to not ask. "Promise that you'll come back to me safely" you said. He gasped, as if he was offended by the mere thought of you questioning his strength. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "Its not that i dont trust you, Satoru. Its just that its Sukuna you're going up against." you paused before continuing "He has his own techniques and ten shadows." He was still visibly offended and turned his head to the side.

Sighing, you smiled and asked again. "Promise?" "No." he snapped jokingly. Slapping his shoulder lightly, you shook your head at how childish he was. "Fine, I promise" This moment made you forget everything that happened and you breathed in his scent, wanting this to last forever.

Atleast you had one whole month left, until worry would consume you completely.

As expected, the much dreaded day arrived and you waited for Satoru along with your students and allies. Yuji turned to look at someone and there he was, in all glory, accompanied by Utahime and Gakuganji.

The audacity of this old geezer to show up you thought. Hopefully he makes himself useful somehow. Just the sight of him made you want to charge and obliterate him right there, but you held back as his help might be needed. The hatred would never subside though.

"Sensei, your cursed technique's in the way"

Satoru smiled and pointed at his back, and Yuji took the chance to slap his back as a good luck. And just like that, Gojo left to the battlefield. Ijichi created a barrier and Utahime started dancing. Within a short while, the much anticipated battle started.

You stayed back with the allies, in order to observe every detail of the battle that unfolded, ready to jump into action whenever necessary. Anything could be the outcome of this battle and everyone was prepared for that. Anyone will have to jump in, with no concern for their fate and give their all.

The ongoing battle never seemed to stop even for a moment, with both sides using their techniques and domains. The result was hard to predict. Everyone keenly observed the intense fight between the duo.

The thought of what kenjaku might be up to lurked in the back of your head, but there was a well devised plan made, so you turned a blind eye towards the thoughts and went back into observation mode.

A strong and terrible gut feeling made you nauseous. Albeit putting your trust in Satoru, you couldnt ignore the bad vibe. As if your suspicion was being proven, something unexpected happened. Something that left horrified expressions in every face.

All you saw was Sukuna with Mahoraga, unleashing his next attack. Everything froze as you stared in utter disbelief. Satoru's body was cut into two parts, and his upper half fell to the ground. He laid in a pool of blood and you felt nauseous.

It was so quick, that you couldnt process it properly. Yuji stood up in shock, and Yuta reached out to unsheath his katana but Maki stopped him. Everyone else were frozen in shock and Miwa walked up to you and hugged you silently.

You couldnt even cry, as it all felt absolutely unreal. A million thoughts ran through your head. It felt like a sick joke. To get him in your life, to almost losing him to Toji, then getting him back, then the whole shibuya incident. Did the forces above hate you so bad?

Why make you meet the so called love of your life just to take him away? For fucks sake, he was all you had. The only family you had. The students were like family as well, but nothing measured up to Satoru. He was your everything: your love, your reason. When you felt like the world was against you, he stayed by your side. When you reached a standstill, he helped you. When you couldnt trust at the initial stages, he kept giving you reasons to trust him and fall hard.

Every single memory you had with Satoru played in your mind like a movie. Swallowing a thick lump, you reached out to pat Miwa weakly.

When you came back to your senses, you realized that time only froze for you. Kashimo was already rushing towards Sukuna. Breathing in and out, you noticed Yuta walk up to you. "Sensei, we need a plan to retrieve Gojo sensei's body" he said. Well, he had a point. But your brain already had too much going on.

Ieiri stood next to you and said "Get it together y/n. I know its hard, but we've got priorities. If you manage to retrieve his body somehow, I'll try my best. I wont let the only people from my life slip away again" "I'll help as well sensei" Yuta chimed in.

Inhaling sharply, you nodded. You didnt bother about what could possbily happen to you. With only one goal in mind, you sneaked into the battlefield with Yuta. By then, Hakari was out of the allies den and by the looks of it, he was going to fight Uraume.

Sparing no glances towards Sukuna and Kashimo, you and Yuta retrieved Gojo's body and narrowly missed a huge iceberg that now fell in the place where your boyfriend laid. With wide eyes, you looked at Yuta, who signalled that both of you had to leave. The nauseous feeling came back as you felt the crimson liquid seep through your clothes. Regardless, you thanked yourself mentally for acting quickly and not wallowing in your sorrows. There wouldnt have been a chance to retrieve your lover's body then.

For whatever reason, you looked back and what you saw made you feel a little terrified. Sukuna now was in a much different form; his face looked different, he had another extra pair of arms and he had a mouth in his stomach. The king of curses looked absolutely menancing. He also yielded cursed objects in his hand.

You then entrusted Satoru's body to Shoko and Yuta, and went back to watching the battle. You trusted their abilities, and your presence might be a distraction to them. Besides, your help might be needed in the battle at any time.

Within a matter of seconds, right after you settled in your seat, Ryomen Sukuna had put an end to Kashimo Hajime. By the looks of it, Hajime's one time attack barely had any effect on the king of curses.

Higuruma Hiromi and Yuji Itadori rushed into the battlefield, not wanting to waste any time. Yuji was fueled by pure hatred, as Sukuna was everything but good to him. Not only that, he massacred thousands while in Yuji's body and also took over his best friend's body now. Hiromi was strong as well. He'll have to read out Sukuna's crimes and let the judge do the work. But truth be told, that wont be an easy task.

The battle was intense again, with Yuji landing black flashes and Hiromi using his own techniques. Retrieving Megumi was important, but the question of how hasnt been answered yet. Sukuna doesnt show any signs of fatigue. Heck, he only looks stronger now.

There were no signs of stopping, and for hours allies swapped in and out to face the monster there. You went out to duel against Sukuna a few times as well, and now your body was decorated with injuries. He was extremely strong, even with lesser cursed energy. You felt that he was weakening physically, but to bring him down? Its going to take an indescribable amount of time.

You were capable of using RCT, so you managed to heal yourself and helped heal the injured allies as well. Everyone seemed exhausted, and the only thing that kept them going was the determination. After coming this far, it would be disgraceful to go back now. It wasnt even a choice to begin with. To give up would mean Sukuna happily finishes everyone off, causes terror and rules the world with Kenjaku.

More than that, to you, this was about your friend's and adoptive son's body getting manipulated like this.

A few more hours passed, and with combined efforts from your side, the curse that terrorised the sorcerer and curse user community fell. You were immensely proud of how every single person on your side fought for the same cause with so much determination and coordination. You also had a sense of gratitude towards each and every one of them.

You were worried about the man who was getting healed by Yuta and Shoko, but you were also glad that a main root of problems was a part of history now. The door opened and the duo walked out, visibly tired. They took one look at all of you and it didnt take long to realise that the enemy had been defeated.

Ijichi walked in with a figure in his arms. Everyone turned and now was facing him and realised it was none other than Megumi. The state he was in made you want to cry. Atleast the past didnt repeat itself fully like it did with Geto. The boy you saw growing up now lay helplessly, body full of injuries. You thought of what he wouldve went through and it pained you heavily.

When Ijichi announced that the boy was alive, you turned towards Shoko, unintentionally holding your breath.

She smiled a little and said that hes alive and well. And then, you crashed onto the chair, completely done in, letting exhaustion take over you. You were still bleeding from a few spots as you prioritized healing the others and now your cursed energy levels had been depleted.

----

When you woke up, the first person to greet you in the hospital bed was Kugisaki. Just her existence there made you tear up, as her return after the incidents of Shibuya was a question mark. Reality sunk in and you let the tears flow freely. The goals were achieved. Your first years were safe and sound. Sukuna was gone. Your second years and third years were safe as well. Satoru was okay as well.

Maybe the universe wasnt completely against you. It just presented you with multiple hurdles. You mentally patted yourself on the back for holding on. It does pay off in the end.

Nobara enveloped you in a hug, and cried with you.

"How are you?" you asked her. "Im okay, Im just glad youre awake."

Right at that time, Shoko walked in, pleased that you were finally awake. "You were out cold for two weeks dummy" she said, letting out a puff of smoke.

"Atleast I can breathe easy now" You got up and hugged her. She was caught off guard at first, but then she hugged back and relaxed. She wasnt particularly a big talker, nonetheless you understood what she wanted to convey.

"What about Kenjaku?" you enquired. "Oh that. Yuta finished him off. We have the body safely with us" Nodding, you walked up to the door. "Ill go meet Yuji and Megumi"

Maki, Panda and Toge were on their way when they noticed you walking towards Yuji's room. They called out to you and after chatting for a while, you learnt the details of Yuta and Kenjaku's fight.

Waving goodbye, you continued and knocked on the Yuji's door. You felt the wind getting knocked out of you. Oh its just Yuji himself. "Im glad youre okay, sensei" he spoke enthusiastically. On the corner of your eye, you saw Choso sitting on the chair. Smiling at him, you asked Yuji to put you down and pat your clothes down.

You spoke to him, and figured he was doing well emotionally, physically and mentally. That's good, you thought to yourself.

Then, you went on to meet Megumi. You were definitely worried about him. You smiled to yourself after seeing him sleep peacefully. Apparently he had already awoken a couple of days back, and even visited you thrice.

Not wanting to disturb him, you finally went to Gojo's room. The same feeling of nervousness hit you like it did when you met him for the first time after he was unsealed. You opened the door slowly, and it seemed that your boyfriend was already aware of your presence outside the door.

He smiled at you again, and opened his arms. He looked different for sure. You ran straight into his arms and he lifted you up in the air, hugging you tightly. This was really him. Your Gojo. He was alive and well. Cue the waterworks, you held each other and cried together. This was a very vulnerable moment for both of you. Satoru crying was not something you expected, but after everything, it would only be odd if he didnt cry.

Letting out everything you held in for this long was a nice feeling. Besides, you could breathe now. The love of your life was here, safe in your arms, by your side. There wasnt even an indicator of the events that happened in the past. And then you realized something.

Breaking away from the hug, you reached out to lift his shirt with hesitant hands. There it was. A huge scar decorated his body in the very spot he was cut in.

"Missed me buttercup?" he asked. Ofcourse he was happy to be back too. Tracing his scar softly, you realised he was not a figment of your imagination. "Why wouldnt I be" you cried out and pulled him in for another hug. "I kept my promise, didnt I?" he sniffled. You choked out a thank you. He then kissed you passionately and you were more than happy to return the gesture. "Deja Vu" you whispered out. "I'll always come back to you, no matter what. You should promise me that too yeah?" He whispered out too. Looking straight into his eyes, you said "I promise, no matter what."

"Do you wanna have some kikufuku?" he asked and you could only laugh. Regardless of what happens, your Satoru will always be the same loving, dorky guy you knew from day 1.

---

You felt someone pepper your face with kisses. Slowly opening your eyes, you saw Satoru, and he gave you one last kiss with an audible mwah sound. It was really happening, you thought to yourself. After cuddling for a while, you got up, just to be pulled back into Gojo's chest.

"Cmon baby its late" you said while looking at the clock. it was 12:30 pm. Looks like 2 weeks of sleep was nothing compared to a night of sound sleep with your other half. "Just a little more time pleaseee" Satoru whined out. Cant really say no to that now.

After a while, you both headed out to have breakfast and there you met all the other students. You didnt really want to press him on and ask about how he felt yesterday and ruin the moment. He's always been that confident individual, so you were worried about his mental state, after going through a defeat like that. Satoru isnt the one to talk about his feelings either, so you'll have to pop the question yourself.

After socializing with the students, Satoru pulled you away. But you weren't exactly done speaking to Choso.

"Love, what was that for?" you enquired, clearly not happy about being interrupted. "WOW I've been deprived of my rights to talk to the love of my life. What an unjust world we live in" he spoke out dramatically.

Laughing silently, you asked "where are we going?" "I dont know" he said playfully. Wrapping your arm around his, you went closer and leaned your head on his shoulder. He reached out to stroke your hair.

"Yknow, I met Nanami, Suguru, Yu and Riko" he started. You hummed. "I spoke to them at the airport for a while. Nanami told me to pick between south and north. But now Im glad I chose north" You definitely did not understand a thing, but didnt ask much. "How do you feel?" you asked. "Hmmmm lets see." he dragged out. "Im not very happy about getting defeated by that curse, but I think I'm more humble now" The last sentence made you laugh and he stared in disbelief. "Are you laughing at my agony now" he gasped out. "I'm not. But baby, you and humble dont go in the same sentence" you teased him now. "Oh come on. Im not very pleased to admit I'm not the strongest" he voiced out. "You'll always be the strongest in my eyes Satoru" you admitted. "will I now?" he wiggled his eyebrows and poked your arm.

Laughing at how adorable he is, you continued to take a stroll with him. "He was crazy strong yknow? Im not sure if i could have beaten him even if he didnt have megumi's ten shadows. I felt like he didnt go all out... In a way, I'm happy that someone as strong as him beat me" he commented. "Yeah, he was strong. We had a hellish time against him" you mentioned.

He may have lost against a curse that strong, but none of that matters to you. Satoru Gojo was here, by your side and that is more than enough.

---

A few days later, all the students and the remaining teachers paid their respects to all the souls that fell. Yuji placed flowers near Nanami's grave. Then, everyone placed a flower on principal Yaga's grave. Megumi stood near the grave designated for Toji. You walked up to him. "you okay?" "well i dont really care" he replied. Maybe Toji did care for his son, but never really showed it openly, so this is what he gets. Miwa silently mourned the death of Kokichi Muta. From the corner of your eye, you spotted Gojo and Shoko near a grave stone. You went near them, and figured it was for Geto. Wrapping your arms around both of them from the middle, you silently leaned your head on Satoru's. You were glad that you were able to properly mourn your friend and the others.

While walking back to your rooms, you smiled to yourself. Yuji and Yuta's sentences were now non existent, thanks to the work of someone. The annoying higher ups were exterminated.

Even if you lost loved ones, made multiple sacrifices, almost lost many people dear to you, it all worked out at the end.

You'd do your best to make sure that this peace never gets disrupted. At any cost. Everyone who you valued, were here, by your side.

----

A/N 2: it took me hours to write this and lmao the whole fight after kashimo dying was all just what i imagined. So yeah.

[currentfandomkick]

Plasticman vs Adoption Trials pt 1

Thanks for waiting, and more to be posted in the future when i have time to work out a proper battle.

Start here

Previous here

Next (not up yet)

Plasticman took a deep breath as the… ghost guardians (gaurdian goons?) of his son moved about somehow less organized than a JL and affiliated allies barbecue.

“As the leader—” the blue armed woman began.

“Only due to a technicality,” Clockwork interrupted. “We all know I’m his favorite.”

Plasticman was just glad his son was safely not present to be pressured into answering that loaded question.

“We have been over this,” Nocturne groaned, rubbing his face. “Just because he agreed to be ‘your problem’ so he wasn’t Ended, doesn’t mean you get to claim favorite status.”

“I find myself agreeing with Nocturne,” blue lady continued. “Especially as we all know we Elipis enjoys the name and role my kin have granted him for his achievements outside of the realms as a mortal.”

“And I’ve known him longest,” Nocturne forced his head up. “Frankly, i’m the most knowledgeable on the living and how they tick in this council, pun intended.”

Clockwork lifted his staff with narrow eye as a geezer. Then pointed it as a toddler.

Plasticman flung himself between them, looping around the staff a few times.

He hates being the sensible one in a room of Ancients and adjecents.

“Hey, I’m pretty sure you guys are supposed to be working out my tests. Like, how many am I taking? Do I get a snack break? Is it open or closed book?”

Clockwork gave him a look that Plas knew would bite him in the butt.

“There are five tests,” Frostbite began while taking the staff of time and Plas safely away from the Infinite’s most over the top time trickster.

“Because Amity already gave me her seal approval,” Plas twisted his head upside down, “so you couldnt up it to six or seven, right?”

“And the children are waiting for you as my liege’s deathday nears,” Fright Knight added with his special brand of ‘too courtly to side eye the Ancients but debating it’ abundantly clear. “So your tests have the potential to happen simultaneously.”

“Great,” Plasticman unwound from the staff and returned to his prior spot. “But do i have an answer ok snacks and if medical comes up, am I allowed to phone a friend,” Plas shifted into a phone and shook his phone hand in Frighty s face. “

Or is that trip to the slammer?” Plas asked behind his finger-made jail bars as he rattled a cup against them.

He delighted in Frighty’s huffing and Nocturn’s slight smile.

“The Great One will need my help and will always have it,” Frostbite began. “There is no reason why asking for help should result in consequences.”

“But if he lacks knowledge it could End Dani,” Clockwork stated with that grin Plas knew was going to bite him in the ass.

“And we are not in the business of leaving our children’s safety negotiable,” Pandora intoned.

“So, is there a class for that? Because if I’m not mistaken, none of you are quite sure how to stabilize her if old Frostbite isnt around,” Plas continued, tying himself in knots openly.

“That’s different,” Pandora began.

“Not quite, my lady,” Fright Knight interrupted. “First aide skills are a requirement, but continued stability for one born coreless is a constantly balance they must maintain themselves.”

“Only until they form a proper core for themselves.” Frost bite began. “The extensive care required is not something any one of us can provide, and halfas are always unique in each case given their nature.”

Pandora pinched her brow. “You are not helping.”

“Sorry,” Frostbite shrunk in on himself for a moment. “If possible, i would like to issue my trial first.”

“Lay it on me iced Yeti!”

Nocturne gave him a look. Plas ignored it.

“You are to escort a blob ghost to the far frozen alone. You’ve always traveled the Infinite with The Great One beside you, but if he or Dani are injured their enemies and any number of the Infinite’s predators might give chase.”

Plas gave him a few foam finger sized thumbs up.

Pandora sat taller before addressing him. “And for my trial, we shall see how you hold up against me in combat while escorting the blob to the Far frozen.”

Plas wondered if he could just turn into freshly printed paper, or if that would be inappropriate in the bad way given this is his co-parenting council.

“Okay, when do we start?”

Clockwork grinned with far too much teeth and banged his reclaimed time staff.

“Now.”

Plas huffed as he realized he was dropped into some part of IR—thankfully close to earth if the green sky was any indication… and he has a blob.

The blob—Blobby?— floated up to him and smacked into his face.

“Okay, Frostbite said Far Frozen escort mission—you got any idea which way that is blobby, can i call you blobby?”

The blob twisted in the air and splat against the ground.

“Not a fan of blobby… how about—”

Something shot him in the back.

The blob cowered on the ground.

“Hold on to that thought little buddy.”

Plas twisted his torso around the thing—squishy thing, hot, and oddly light for something that hit that hard…

Wait this is the ghost zone, made of ectoplasm. Which is as multipurpose as carbon.

Ectoplasm. He was wrapped around ectoplasm.

Well, ecto projectile then—oh this was going to be a real blast now!

“Hey little guy, i will be right back, try eating some of this,” plas unraveled himself. “It’s not the best, but my kids eat ectoblasts all the time, might feel a bit grumpy and jumpy after.”

The smushed blob inched to the failed ectoblast while plas looked around. Based on how he was hit, the enemy was in the sky.

Could be Young Blood again, or it could be a real enemy or Worse.

He’s hoping an overeager Young Blood and not Pandora with guns. He does not want to k ow what an ancient of protection, master of battle and keeper (or jailer) of hope.

One eye ran around to see what all the fuss was.

He saw blue flaming hair, Johnny’s infamous motorcycle and a bit of metal and green flames…

What were his chances of catching a ride with one of them once they find out this is a test?

Low.

Skulker likes testing weapons on his son in particular—something about it being important for his development… he does fear Ellie. Especially since Ellie is a menace of the highest degree and was raised in a lab as Vlad’s assistant before everything went down. She knows what not to do and will do it for revenge. He also knows his kids are never far behind him.

Kitty and Johnny won’t want to get on another ancient’s bad side. He’s not sure why Nocturne hates Johnny, but he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jazz—sleep guy has a favorite liminal and holds a nasty grudge whenever it involves Jazz. (And is probably why Vlad has so many night terrors now, if the baby ghost busters’ bugs are a good indicator.)

Ember hates ancients and doesnt like Plas for being “too ghost” for a mortal with no net liminality. He’s an uncanny valley to both sides of the veil, and still isn’t sure if that’s perfect or a shame.

Stealing Johnny’s bike is always ethical. He did vandalize his favorite part of his city and refuse to clean up. Cleaning ecto in any form just sucks—and not in the ‘safe consumption as a living vacuum’ sucks.

Plas walked one finger over to the bike and got ready to reel it in while another set off skulker’s guns in Kitty’s direction. Prompting Johnny and Shadow to go on the offensive and abandon their ride.

He snagged the bike while the four argued.

“Hey Goop?” The blob chimed with a twirl. “Goop it is. We gotta get going, and i grabbed a ride.”

Plas showed off johnny’s bike, and was relieved to see Goop plop down in the side car and snuggle in.

Plas flung the motorcycle into the air and let the GZP map kick in.

He’s just glad its in 2D this time and not 5D that was hard to keep track of the time part.

Then he heard a certain angry warrior yell and kicked it into high gear.

“Hold on Goop! We have an angry spear mom on our tail!”

Goop made a bubbling sound, sinking deeper into the passenger seat.

“You and me both buddy. Think the TimeLocked isles’ markets will be enough to slow her down?”

Goop made a low gurgling sound.

“Well not for a long time, but like an hour or so.

She isn’t one for poofy dresses and Goop do they have a lot of those there.”

Thanks to @stealingyourbones and @bonebrokebuddy for their info on Plasticman

Taglist below

@alinmenttreasure @sophistryandsophisms @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 @im-totally-not-an-alien @akikoyuii @idek618 @satanicritualspecialist @thefanficcup @ekat @secretdestinywerewolf @dannyphantomphan @forgottenac3 @avery-isastupid-name @jadedragon1903 @naluforever3 @akikkobara @the-church-grimm @pheonixqueen @fisticuffsatapplebees @thewondersoflebanon @dontfightmecauseillcry @please-dont-see-me @onyxlightdragon @kyrianclawraith @treepainting @allulily @andsatisfactionbroughtmeback @depuffstuff @shorterthanadverage @notmuchtopost @ghostly-pal @vellichor615 @dulceringo @09shell-sea09 @halfblackwolfdemon @thecatchat @maribatshipper @legallyspawned

[mousydentist]

February 9th T-5 Days

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize anyone else came here.” Chay looks up from his phone to the door of the music room where a boy is peeking his head in. Kim, Chay thinks his name is. They sat together on the first day of classes, and Kim asked to borrow a pen. 

“No worries, you can come in, if you want. It’s just me.”

Kim hesitates for a second before grinning. “Thanks. You’re Chay, right? We have calculus together.”

Chay groans. “Please don’t remind me of that torture disguised as education.”

Kim laughs, sitting next to him and pulling a lunch box out of his bag. “So I’m not the only one who thinks that?”

“Nope,” Chay confirms. “And I bet you’re also thinking about how it’s taught by an old geezer with a stick up his ass, which I have to agree with.”

Kim almost chokes on his food, looking at Chay with a mixture of confusion and amusement. “I’m not sure I would’ve put it that way, but you’re not wrong.”

Chay laughs. “Do you come here a lot, by the way? I come here almost every day, but we’ve never crossed paths.”

Kim nods, swallowing a bite of food before speaking. “I do too, but I usually have student council meetings during this block.”

"Student council?"

"I'm the president."

Chay whistles, impressed. He probably should've known that, but he doesn't care much about class events.

"Cool," he says, then tilts his head. “Do you play?” he asks, gesturing at the decorative little guitar pick dangling from Kim’s necklace.

“Yeah, I do, actually. You too?” Chay nods. 

“Do you have one of your own?” Chay asks, and he sees Kim’s eyes light up.

“I do. I don’t mean to brag, but,” he says, leaning in as he pulls out his phone to show Chay a picture.

After that, the flood gates open. They talk for hours. Not hours. They talk for the whole lunch break, but it feels like hours. Chay’s never had a better first impression of someone. Whenever he meets new people, even when he first met Ohm, he tends to be very polite, smiling kindly and being slightly reserved. But today? He feels like he can’t stop talking, and Kim returns his enthusiasm in kind. It’s like they’ve been good friends for years, rather than strangers until thirty minutes ago. He's surprised how nice it is to hang out with Kim, but maybe that's his own biases about The Popular Kids creeping in.

Their interests seem perfectly aligned, and they don’t run out of things to talk about the whole time. Chay wants to invite Kim over so he can show him the guitar Porsche got him for Christmas, and they can play together. It’s very weird, since Chay’s never wanted to bring anyone over, let alone someone he just met. It’s not even that he thinks Kim would decline, Kim seems just as thrilled as he is to be sharing these kinds of conversations.

To be honest, he feels a little special to see a side of the boy he doesn’t show to just anyone. Well, at least, he’s never shown it to Chay before... He feels a little less special after that thought. This is probably how Kim is with all his friends, and since Chay’s never had a proper conversation with him before, it would make sense that he’s never seen it.

They talk all the way up until the bell rings, letting them know they have five minutes to get to their next class, which, conveniently, is one they share. Chay stands and cracks his back, stiff from how he was leaning back on his arms. Kim waits for him to grab his bag before they start walking together.

“Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Kim says, holding the door open for Chay. “Have anyone special you’re gonna buy chocolates for?”

Chay chuckles a little. “Not me. I’m too busy trying to graduate.”

Kim nods his head, looking forward as they walk through the halls.

Chay bites his cheek. It’s the first awkward silence since they started talking, and he doesn’t like it at all.

“What about you?” Chay asks to get the conversation flowing again.

Kim just shrugs.

Having no idea what to do with that, Chay keeps his mouth shut. 

When they enter the classroom, Chay walks slowly, not sure if he’s supposed to sit in his usual seat or follow Kim. When Kim sits down and doesn’t acknowledge Chay, he takes it as a sign and almost starts to walk past Kim to his seat down the aisle, but he pauses, bites his lip, working up the nerve. 

Finally, he turns back to Kim and holds out his phone.

“Can I get your number?” Chay says, which immediately sounds more forward than he was hoping for. But Kim just blinks at him, then chuckles and hands over his own phone. Chay quickly types his number in, and when he gets his phone back there’s a new contact: kim :)

[jen-with-a-pen]

ALL TIED UP - FOUR

Previous ⊹ Series

summary: A look into the House of Sigma Beta Theta (ΣBΘ). Annoyed with the vague hinting at the party on Friday, Steve confronts Clint and stands up for once– and it only slightly backfires.

pairings: Art Student!Frat Brother!Steve Rogers x Film Student!Sorority Sister!Reader

word count: 1386

warnings: cursing, food mention, meeting the rest of the brothers, dudebro Clint, fuckboy Tony, singling out/exclusion, power dynamics, Steve's just trying to make it through the day man

a/n: we get to meet the rest of the fraternity! so sorry it's been a while. the holidays, seasonal depression, and work happened and i didn't really have the motivation to write for steve again until recently. hope yall like it ❤ p.s. thank you all SO SO much again on the continuing love for filthy impetuous souls. it means the world ❤

This chapter was not beta'd by anyone else. All mistakes in this chapter are my own.

gif by @paliaphrodite | additional graphics + dividers by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist | all tied up masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥ Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Last Wednesday.

Dribbles of cereal milk splash onto the kitchen table as Steve switches between eating breakfast, drafting a perfect-but-also-not-too-perfect text to his barista, and reading the newspaper. The newspaper thing makes him feel like an old fucking geezer, but it reminds him of mornings with his Ma back home. He misses her.

He makes a mental note to call her this weekend. 

Munching on another spoonful, he nearly chokes at the sound of slow, calculated footsteps descending the stairs. Normally he’s the only one home on Wednesday mornings. Normally he can sit in comfortable silence in the kitchen without needing to sneak around the fucking house. However, this specific Wednesday morning was not normal– all the guys were hungover from the party the night before. Upon realization, Steve reluctantly swallows the half-chewed gob of Cheerios. It lands in his stomach like a rock as he frantically looks about the scene on the table; he can’t decide fast enough whether to hide the newspaper, or his phone– or himself– before whomever is around the corner sees him outside his bedroom, outside his element. 

Tony Stark is the first to stride into the kitchen. Jet-black hair slicked back with yesterday's pomade complimented by a face riddled with stubble. He’s a mismatched mess of a worn Yankees jersey, khakis, and the newest Nikes, all of which are covered by the stench of luxury cologne and seven types of vodka. Even with designer sunglasses on, he winces at the fluorescent kitchen lights while dragging his feet straight to the coffee pot. 

"’Sup, Rogers." 

As far as they are into the semester, it’s the first time Tony directly acknowledges Steve in a way that isn't sarcastic or followed by a snooty comment under his breath. Steve quietly tips his chin to Tony out of politeness. From his perch at the kitchen table, he watches Tony pour a mug of coffee before slyly taking a mini Fireball out of his shirt pocket, dumping it into the hot liquid. He stirs his concoction with a finger, tasting it with a faint grimace before sipping. 

To each their own, Steve thinks. 

"Are you really reading the fuckin' newspaper, old timer?" Tony remarks behind his mug. Last night’s party and lack of proper hydration makes his voice raspy, deeper than usual. Steve shrugs, nodding with a faint 'yeah' in response. Steve sips his protein shake.

Tony sniffs a laugh. "Soon enough, you'll be on it." 

Another slurp. 

"What?" Steve chokes, a chunk of unmixed protein powder lodging itself in his esophagus.

"Hm. Nothin'." 

“No, what did you–”

"Whoa! Sure is a party in here," Clint Barton jokes upon entering the kitchen, following in Tony's footsteps to the coffee maker. Compared to Tony, Clint takes his hangovers in full stride. It figures, too; the guy is a kinesiology-finance major with a nutritionist-business major of a girlfriend. Eyes full of light and mischief, hair already stylishly spiked even though he just rolled out of bed, he’s already in his usual workout shirt and sweatpants. Clint whistles to himself, taking a large tub of protein powder off the top of the fridge before fixing a shaker of protein coffee. Tony steps out of the way to the other side of the kitchen to lean against the stove, watching, lurking. 

"Not until you got here, Clint," Steve attempts. Clint doesn't turn around until he's shaking his protein shaker. Loudly. 

"You say sumn'?" He asks, smirking when Steve begins to shake his head and go back to his phone. 

"Steven, I kid, I kid.”

Steve gives a tight-lipped smile, looking down at his soggy Cheerios. The knot in his chest tightens. The milk smells sour.

“Hey, Steve.”

Steve looks up, locking eyes with Clint. He swallows, hands gripping the newspaper and crumpling the comics section– his favorite. 

“You have fun last night?” Clint asks, dropping more powdered supplements into his shaker. 

“Y-Yeah, it was fun.” 

“You see any cute honeys you like?” Clint waggles his brow. 

Steve’s face burns. His eyes dart to Tony, who’s hiding a knowing smirk behind his coffee mug. 

“I think, yeah,” he shrugs. 

Clint laughs, lips morphing into a knowing, dark grin. “Well if you think they were cute last night, just wait ‘til Friday. You’ll believe it, then.”

Another vague nod to Friday. Steve’s brow furrows, leaning forward in his chair. “What do you mean by that?” 

Clint blinks, surprised at the confrontation, and sets his shaker down on the counter before approaching the kitchen table, hands slamming into the wood. Steve’s cereal sloshes, splashing a bit onto the screen of his phone. 

“You wanna ask me that again, Steven?” Clint hisses with a challenging smirk. “Go ahead, y’know I can’t hear real well. I didn’t hear ya the first time.” He leans in with a hand cupped to his ear and a mocking face. “What’s that? Huh?”

“Nothin’,” Steve mumbles. 

“Sorry, what?”

“Nothing.” Steve’s knuckles are white.

“Sorry! Come again?” Clint’s smirk grows wider the further he leans in. 

Steve stands abruptly, slamming his own palms onto the table. “I said–!”

“You said what?”

Steve and Clint turn to the direction of Bucky’s voice as it drifts into the kitchen before he and Sam do. Hands pocketed, brow raised, ponytail bobbing, Bucky looks sternly between Steve and Clint. Sam mirrors him with the ghost of a smirk on his lips. Steve straightens instantly; Clint follows suit, stretching a hand out to Sam to exchange high fives. Steve’s eye twitches.

“Hm?” Bucky questions, stopping in the middle of the kitchen. He looks from Tony– who just nurses his coffee, checking stocks on his phone– to Clint– who lifts his hands in defense, acting confused– and finally to Steve– who sets his jaw, trying his best to level his breathing and frustration. 

Steve swallows, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t say anything.” He tries to keep his tone level, convincing. Bucky nods, gaze shifting to Clint. 

“Nothin’, boss, y’know me.” Clint’s lips twitch along with his brow. 

Bucky’s eyes dart between them before he turns back to Sam, who leans against the fridge with crossed arms. Steve locks eyes with him for a second longer before he turns to Bucky and shrugs. The moment hangs in the air, silent and tense, like every other time all five of them are alone in the same room. Steve’s always the one that feels the tension, though. 

“As you were,” Bucky concludes. The kitchen reverts back to normal as everyone resumes the start to their days. Steve stands idly by, looking down at his milk-coated paper and phone, his breakfast soggy and ruined. He sighs and begins to clean up. Before he leaves the kitchen, Bucky grabs his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Forgot to ask. You inviting anyone?” 

Steve responds with a confused look.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “To the party, Stevie,” he clarifies, flashing a smile differing from his usual, knowing smirk. 

Steve hesitates, looking to Sam then back to Bucky. “Kinda, yeah,” he shrugs. All eyes are on him and the kitchen stills once again. Bucky’s brow rockets up his forehead.

“Yeah? Who?”

Steve’s Adam's apple bobs. “Uh, just–just a friend. From class.”

“But who?” Bucky’s grip on Steve’s arm tightens. 

“She’s just a–” Steve immediately bites his tongue. It's too late. 

“She? You have a she-friend?” Clint asks incredulously. Even Tony looks at Steve from behind his lowered sunglasses. All eyes are on the blond whose eyes dart around helplessly. 

“I–Wh–She’s just a friend from class, that’s it,” Steve defends, heat pooling in his cheeks as he stares pointedly into Bucky’s cool blues. Bucky holds him for a second more before releasing his arm, dusting off Steve’s shoulders, smiling. 

“We’ll make sure to give her a real warm welcome, then,” Bucky winks. 

Unnerved, Steve quickly makes his way out of the kitchen and up the stairs to his room while mixed conversations from the kitchen chase after him. He doesn’t bother listening. Once he enters his room, he triple checks the locks on the door before slouching into his secondhand office chair. Popping in earbuds, he hits play on the album he fell asleep to the night prior as his fingers fly over his phone’s keyboard, coming to a stop when the adrenaline does. 

He reads over the text, chewing his lip, and hits send.

Hey, it’s Steve

who?

Meathead.

oh i know just wanted to hear u say it

Don’t you mean see it?

damn. got me there

nice first attempt at texting btw. solid 8/10, good introduction

8/10??

What can a guy do to earn a 10/10?

hmm

come by the cafe later and try a new drink i made ;)

Deal.

[laurfilijames]

Like My Dreams

Part 1

Intro

Pete Dunham Masterlist

Pairing: Pete Dunham x female reader

Words: 4.8k

Warnings: Mentions of a broken leg, use of crutches. Bruises and cuts. Swearing. Alcohol consumption and use of pain medication. Discussions of fighting.

Summary: Life is getting back to normal for Pete, including going back to work and participating in his first scrap since almost getting killed, and little does he know that an unexpected person is going to step in and show him that while football is life, there may be more to life than just football.

After moving home to help your sister with your nephew, Jack, after her divorce, you meet his bruised, but gorgeous teacher, and later discover you're connected in more ways than one.

A/N: Part 1 is here!! Pete deserves the world and I'm using this fic as a way to rebuild his for him.

---

"Have you heard from the Yank at all, there, Peg Leg?" Swill asked through a grin, ducking when Pete raised his arm up in an attempt to hit him.

"Aye, I'll beat you with my crutch, you cunt," he threatened, turning away for a split second before making a quick jab at his mate with the proposed weapon, making Swill jump and spill his beer. "And yes, I have. Turns out our Yank mate has sought his revenge and managed to get a recording of that geezer Jeremy admitting he put the blame on him, so he's right back into Harvard now and will be graduating soon as."

"Ahh, result!" Swill cheered, clanking his glass against Pete's before extending his arm out to cheers with Ned and then Ike.

"Gonna be a proper Journo now."

"Good on him," Ike nodded.

"Yeah, yeah. Says he's planning a visit back across the pond soon as he's done," Pete explained.

"Oi, when are you going back to work, Pete?" Dave asked, handing him a fresh pint before taking a sip of his own.

Pete took a long drink, tilting his head to the side and shrugging slightly as he swallowed his beer. "Soon, I hope. Apparently the little lads have been giving the substitute a right time. I already had to go in and give 'em the what-for…tell 'em to be nice while I'm away."

"Bloody buggers," Dave sighed, shaking his head.

"Told them I'd taught them better than that." Pete took another sip, wiping his mouth with his hand. "Their response was that they wouldn't have to be such shits if she wasn't such an old, miserable cow."

"Yeah, there's no doubt you're their role model, then eh?" Dave laughed.

Pete shrugged in agreement, finding no point in arguing.

"Once I get out of this cast I can go back in," he explained, turning and leaning his back against the bar. "I'm itching to get back to it, but more just to get out of Steve and Shannon's place."

"That bad?"

He sighed, choosing his words carefully, "Shannon is being nice to me for the first time ever, but they fuss constantly. It'll just be nice to go home."

"Yeah, all in time, mate." Dave clapped his shoulder, happy Pete was being cared for and wasn't spending the long days of recovery alone.

There were days his leg ached like hell, and after ditching his crutches about a week ago, Pete sometimes wished he still had them to lean on. He sat on the edge of his desk, reading out loud to the class from there rather than pacing through the desks like he had been, his limp becoming more and more noticeable with each step, but despite the pain from the long days of being back on his feet, he was grateful to be back in his classroom with life pretty much back to normal.

Being back in his flat helped with his overall recovery too, having felt desperate to get out of Steve and Shannon's stuffy place and in the familiar comforts of his own, having appreciated time spent with them and his sweet nephew Ben, but ultimately relieved to relish in the peace and quiet.

The bell rang, signaling the end of their school day, and Pete marked his page and closed the book, glancing at the clock in slight disbelief that the day was already over.

"Okay, boys, we'll pick up there tomorrow," he announced, collecting some papers on his desk as his class packed up their notebooks and began filing out of the room. "And remember your assignments are due on my desk first thing Tuesday morning, so get cracking on them!" he shouted over their excited voices, some of them moaning in disappointment over their homework.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a text from Bov confirming their plans to meet at the pub later for beers, and excitement buzzed through him knowing that in two more days, West Ham was playing Manchester at home. The two firms hadn't seen each other since the GSE surprised them at the station and embarrassed the hell out of them, and word was that they were gunning for a comeback more than ever. Pete knew he would have to be careful, but the thought of getting back into fighting and experiencing that rush as his firm kicked the shit out of the other's whose bruised pride had never recovered from the last time made him feel like he was close to invincible.

"I don't know why you keep eating it, then, Bov," Pete scolded, walking through the doors of The Abbey with his mate who kept going on about his sore stomach, unable to help the laugh at his expense as he watched him hold his gut and beeline it right for the toilets.

"What's the matter with him?" Dave asked, nodding in Bovver's direction as he struggled to get by other patrons.

Pete shook his head and sighed, "Bloody guy insists on ordering the hottest curry going and then fucking complains about his insides turning as soon as he's stuffed it down."

"He'll never learn, will he?"

"Nah, serves him right," Pete chuckled, clanging his glass against Dave's after being handed it.

"I don't know about you boys, but I am more than ready for the weekend," Ike said exasperatedly, "work has been kicking my ass."

"You best be rested up for our big event on Saturday…" Dave warned, earning a scoff from him.

"Yeah, yeah, you know I'm good for it. When have I ever let us down?"

Dave opened his mouth to quip at him, but started laughing when Ike shoved his arm and directed his attention to Pete. "What about you, eh? You feeling up to it?"

"Mate," he said pointedly, his eyebrow raised, "more than I ever have." Pete grinned, knowing each of them would be keeping extra close watch on him despite him feeling like no one would be able to knock him to the ground.

"I've been trying to get Fiona down here for some drinks," Swill started to explain, "her bestie is here staying with her for a bit and said they were looking to go out on the pull-"

"Aye, I'll show your sister a good time," Ned interrupted, causing Swill to glare at him seriously.

"Don't you fucking think for a second you're gonna touch my sister."

Pete laughed into his beer, listening to the two of them carry on until Keith interrupted them.

"Isn't she the hot one that moved away a few years back?"

"Yeah, that's the one," Swill confirmed.

"Oi, she's fit as fuck," Ned chimed in, making a crude gesture with his hands.

"She's here helping her sister out with her nephew or something, I dunno," Swill nonchalantly explained. "I keep telling her that Fi's place is too cramped and she should come stay with me."

"In your dreams!" Pete laughed, "Poor girl would be traumatized if she spent more than five minutes with you."

"Yeah, well, you'll just see when she comes 'round, eh. I'm very charming when I need to be."

"The only charm you're going to have is when you're helping me kick the snot out of Manchester's top bloke." Pete wrapped his arm around Swill's shoulders and necked the rest of his pint, the exhilaration of the upcoming match and fight already tingling through his veins.

"Fucking right, mate!" Swill cheered, patting Pete on the back aggressively to help pump him up even more.

Saturday turned out to be one of the best days Pete could remember having. The Hammers won 2-0 and him and the boys made the ruck afterward almost look too easy, but it didn't go without it's evidence.

He looked at his bruised reflection in the mirror, having missed seeing various shades of red and blue marking his face, his skin tender as he pulled the razor down over it before rinsing it off under the tap. He smiled to himself in thinking a clean shave would make up for his appearance when he showed up to school that morning, the colours even more pronounced than they were yesterday, having already earned glares from other staff members as he walked through the hallways to his classroom. The little lads always got a kick out of seeing their teacher's battle wounds unlike the Headmaster, but Pete still did his best to set a good example for them and prove to everyone that even a Weekend Warrior could maintain his professionalism. Pete winced when he went over a cut on his cheek, making blood spring from it again, and washing the remaining shaving cream off his cheeks and chin, he dried his face and went through to his bedroom to get dressed.

"Have a good day, Jack!" you smiled, watching your nephew climb out of the back seat of your car, thinking how dapper he looked in his neatly ironed school uniform and finding how he styled his hair with a bit of gel too sweet. He was growing up so quickly, ten going on fourteen it seemed like some days, and despite the circumstances, you were grateful to be around him more. There was no doubt that the split between your sister and his dad was tough on him, but overall he seemed to be coping okay, and you hoped a small bit of it was because his one and only amazing Aunt was there to help look after him. Part of your designated duties were to drop him off and pick him up from school and football practices, your work hours more flexible and easier to line up with his activities than your sister's, and it was the least you felt you could do to help out.

"Thanks, Auntie."

"You've got your football gear, right?" you called out through the passenger window you quickly rolled down before he got too far from the car.

"Yup," he confirmed, holding up his cleats and giving his backpack a shrug to keep over his shoulder.

"Okay, then, I'll see you at half four when practice is over. Maybe we'll go grab a bite and see a film?"

He scowled, "The match is on tonight!"

You raised your hands in mercy, "May the football gods forgive me!"

It earned a laugh from him, making you smile, the little 'see ya!' he gave you as he turned and ran off toward the building enough to make your Tuesday feel a little less mundane.

Glancing out of the corner of your eye at the backseat as you reached for your purse, you did a double-take, noticing Jack's lunch bag and homework left forgotten on the seat.

"Shit!" you hissed before giving a long sigh, looking out the window for any sign he was still around.

He was long gone into the school now, forcing you to switch your car off and take it inside, and you trotted down the pathway quickly in your heels so as not to be late to work yourself.

Something had cheesed-off the secretary already this morning, and with little to no help from her, you took it upon yourself to wander down the hallways in search of Jack's homeroom.

"You alright there, Jack?" Pete asked, passing out a worksheet on each desk, his concern growing after noticing the sulk on the boy's face. He looked like he was about to cry, having finished rooting through his bag for the second time since he'd gotten into class, clearly searching for something that wasn't there.

"I don't have my assignment." There was so much defeat in the poor kid's voice, and Pete couldn't bring himself to be cross with him even if he wanted to be.

"It's alright, mate, you can hand it in tomorrow."

When that didn't seem to ease his troubles over it, Pete crouched down beside his desk, his leg complaining as he did.

"You did do it, yeah?"

"Yes," Jack confirmed, his disappointment not fading. "I think I left it in my Aunt's car."

"Right, then there's nothing else to be done about it for now, eh? Mistakes happen, I won't knock any marks off for it."

"I forgot mine, too, Mr. Dunham," the boy sitting behind Jack called out.

"No you did not, Louis," Pete said through a wince as he stood. "The only thing you forgot was to actually do it."

Louis, along with all the other boys, laughed, the kid being famous for never handing in anything on time or simply neglecting to do half the assignments tasked in the first place, his admission not coming as a surprise to Pete.

About to explain the instructions on the pages he had just handed out, Pete was interrupted by a light knock and the door opening, making all of them pause to look at the slightly embarrassed, but extremely beautiful woman who was disrupting their class.

"I'm so sorry," you began, smiling in your bashfulness. You looked directly at Jack, making Pete swivel on the spot he stood on to follow your gaze before looking back at you with a big grin on his face, watching as you held up a folder containing what had to be his forgotten assignment.

"Looks like you've got yourself a guardian angel, mate," Pete smirked, limping over to the door where he opened it more for you.

You apologized again, but somehow couldn't wipe the smile from your face as you got lost in Jack's teacher's vibrantly blue eyes, the colour seemingly enhanced and appearing almost fake due to the reddish bruises that surrounded them.

"Don't give it another thought," he assured you, looking back at you with a similar amusement before reaching his hand out to take the folder decorated with West Ham United stickers from you.

More bruises and cuts decorated his knuckles, making you wonder what the hell this man got up to when he wasn't teaching your nephew, and you made a mental note to ask Jack questions about it all later.

"You've forgotten your lunch, too," you spoke, peeling your eyes away from the man who made butterflies flutter violently in your stomach. Jack trotted up to the front of the class where you stood, taking the bag from you sheepishly.

"Jack, you're a very lucky lad," Pete began, moving to perch on the edge of his desk. "I don't have anyone bringing me my lunch if I've left it."

You shrugged and nervously tucked your hands in the pockets of your jacket now that they were free, biting your lower lip to try to stop yourself from smiling more.

"I won't take up anymore of your time," you said to the impossibly handsome teacher, maintaining eye contact with him as you took a step backwards toward the door, praying your feet didn't betray you. "Sorry, again, for the disruption."

"Not a problem at all," he said slowly through another bright grin, his head tilting curiously as he crossed his arms over his chest while you walked through the door, closing it behind you.

The second it latched you heard the entire class erupt in a long 'ooooooo', jeering their teacher as any group of ten-year-old boys would for talking to a girl, making you smile even more when you heard him shush them and chuckle lightly before continuing on with his lesson.

10:47 Fiona: We're going to the pub tonight.

10:49 You: …

10:49 Fiona: I said, we're going to the pub tonight. That's an order.

10:51 You: Fine.

10:51 Fiona: Don't be mardy. We need to get out of the house. I promise to show you a good time.

10:51 Fiona: Plus, there's a match on, so it'll be full of fit lads.

10:52 You: Is that really your main selling point?

10:52 Fiona: Yes. We'll see which of us can get the most free drinks.

11:09 Fiona: I'm taking your silence as a yes.

11:09 Fiona: Maybe you'll even get a snog or a shag in the toilets!

11:17 You: I swear you're a bigger perv than your brother.

Tucking your phone back inside your desk drawer, you bit the inside of your cheek and sighed out deeply, trying to regain concentration on the computer screen in front of you, but it was helpless. All you could think about was the fraction of a possibility of seeing Jack's teacher there, the teacher whose name you didn't even know, out of the simple fact that he probably spent his time outside of school in a pub watching football as most men did. Even if he did happen to be in that exact pub, in that exact part of London, on that exact night, the chances of him being there without a woman, or many, hanging off his arm were slim. Maybe he was even engaged or married, happily at home on a Tuesday night with his missus…

Regardless of your speculations, you continued to think of the way he had looked at you, letting this silly and unexpected fantasy get the better of you, recounting every moment of your meet-cute and how unbelievable it would be to find yourself tangled up with the likes of him. Had you exaggerated the glint in his eyes and the brightness of his smile, or how he made your whole body tingle with that nervous-excitement enough to feel like you were floating?

With another sigh, you willed yourself to get a grip, needing to get something accomplished in your workday, the chances of seeing him outside the school slim.

Still, a girl could dream, and smiling to yourself, you secretly thanked your friend for her persistence in taking you out.

Several very distracted hours later, you pulled up beside the pitch outside the school, seeing a small mob of boys in various coloured jerseys running around it, and your eyes immediately found and fixed on the tall coach that was unmistakably the same man who had occupied your mind all day.

You sat for only a couple of minutes before their practice was over, watching the banged-up teacher with a hitch in his step walk around collecting pylons while the boys ditched their jersey's into a bag and started to clean up their belongings piled near the fence.

Jack ran to your car even though his bags were far too heavy for him to be, and seeing how sweaty he was along with the muddy stains covering his gym gear, you wondered how many of these pick-ups it would take until your car began to smell like gross footy equipment.

"How was it?" you asked when he hauled on the door and threw his stuff in, flopping himself into he back seat before shutting the door and putting on his seatbelt.

"Good. Thanks for bringing my assignment, you're a legend."

"Don't I know it," you winked at him, taking one last look over at his teacher who just so happened to be staring at you, and you felt yourself flush from head to toe as you tore your gaze away from him and blinked into reality, putting your car in gear and driving off.

You were quiet for a couple of minutes, debating quizzing your nephew about his teacher, and ultimately decided there was no harm in it.

"Does your teacher always show up with bruises on his face?"

Glimpsing in the rearview mirror, you saw Jack smile. "Mr. Dunham? Yeah, most of the time."

"You're acting like that's a normal thing, Jack," you laughed, "Why is he always battered?"

"He's a Hooligan, so yeah, it's normal."

"A Hooligan?”

"In a footy firm?” he emphasized in the form of a question, like it was the most obvious thing. “Yeah. West Ham’s, obviously."

You nodded, trying to wrap your head around the information you were getting. You knew of the firm because of Fiona, having heard the odd thing about it through her because of her brother Swill, but the ins and outs of football were something you didn't pay much attention to anymore. You weren't even sure if Swill was still a participant of the barbaric side of football, assuming he might have given up his hooliganism in exchange for his respectable career as an accountant.

"Mr. Dunham's the coolest. He's everyone's favourite teacher. A lot of grown-ups and other teachers think he's bad or whatever, but he's the nicest out of anyone and is really smart, too," Jack went on, pulling you out of your thoughts for a moment. "I want to teach history like him when I grow up. It's my favourite subject."

"Well, then, I'm sure glad I brought in that assignment for you."

"Yeah, I was real upset that I forgot it. I want to keep my grades up in his class."

It was incredible to hear your nephew talk like this, finding a role model in someone so unconventional, but seeing as his father wasn't really one to look up to, you figured it was good he found someone who inspired him.

"Right, my man," you announced, parking in your sister's driveway. "Enjoy the match! I hope they win!"

"Mr. Dunham says they will for sure. Birmingham doesn't stand a chance!"

"Well good, because even I am going to watch it tonight!"

Jack pulled a shocked face, "You're gonna watch football?"

"Yes! Cheeky…"

"Make sure you cheer for the proper team!" he laughed, tugging on his West Ham shirt to show you the crest. He closed the door after taking out all his things and ran up to the house where he stuck his tongue out at you from the porch, making you laugh and shake your head.

"Want another one, Pete?" Bovver asked, nodding to his empty glass that had been drained for a while now.

"Nah, man, I'm good. Gotta be sharp for work tomorrow."

"Since when?"

Pete glared at his mate, not wanting to get into too many details, the truth behind his reduced consumption of pints being he had just taken some pain pills on account of his leg. He had done his best to cope with it, but after running around too much at practice he had to give in, needing something to help take the edge off.

"Oi, Fi's on her way over," Swill said, sitting down beside Pete.

"Oh, tonight? Sweet," Pete said, curious to see who her friend was and if she was actually as fit as the other guys kept claiming she was.

The Abbey was packed by the time the game started with the GSE dispersed throughout to watch on the various screens hung on the walls and above the bar, Pete sticking to their usual spot in the back corner where less people were gathered.

He spotted Fiona making her way through the crowd, judging by her tipsy smile and half-finished pint that she had already been here for a decent amount of time, the atmosphere of the whole place very rowdy as the Hammers maintained a lead.

"Pete!" she called, nearly pushing someone down to get to him to give him a hug.

"Aye, aye!" He stood and accepted her embrace, unable to recall the last time he had seen her.

"How are you doing? You gave everyone quite the scare!"

He chuckled, "Yeah, all good. I'm doing fine now, thanks, Fiona." He took his seat again and looked up at her with a smile, watching as she clapped her hand on her chest.

"What a relief, you should've seen how gutted they all were. Swill was beside himself."

"As they should've been!" he laughed, spinning his empty glass on the coaster. "You enjoying the match?"

"Wha- oh! Yeah," she laughed, her smile somehow larger than her brother's, "I'm not paying all that much attention if I'm honest!"

"I can tell!"

She shrugged and took a long sip of her drink, glancing around the bar.

He nodded at her, his brows knitted, "Where's your friend?"

"Hell if I know! Somewhere over there," she waved, motioning in the direction of the pool table, "Ned and Swill are chatting her ears off."

"Sounds about right…"

Pete settled into his seat and drew his focus back to the match as Fiona went and greeted someone else, but he'd be kidding himself if he pretended his thoughts weren't constantly on you, unable to get you out of his mind for even a second. He wondered if he would be lucky enough to see you again; if Jack would just so happen to forget something on a weekly basis and if you were going to be the one consistently picking him up from school and football practice, or maybe even be the guardian he would get to sit down and discuss Jack's grades with at parent-teacher interviews.

But it was rare for lightning to strike twice.

The Brigid Abbey Pub itself was incredibly charming, even if most of the people occupying it were far less so. Swill was the same as always, never changing his lewd, loud ways despite being forced to be well-mannered and respectful throughout the day, but it was rare that anyone had ever made you laugh as hard as he did. His mates were all there, most of them hanging around where you and Fi were, but mentions of someone named Pete and his whereabouts kept coming up.

You found yourself taking in your surroundings more than the game itself, looking at all the plaques and paraphernalia that hung on the walls, all while scanning the crowd in hopes of spotting the one person you somehow felt desperate to see again.

"Who are you looking for?"

"Hmm? What? No one," you lied to Fiona, though very unconvincingly.

"You spotted a fit bloke, didn't you?" she said with a grin that rivaled Swill's.

"Yeah, me," Swill chimed in, causing Fiona to talk back to him about being gross and them to start bickering as they usually did.

They always managed to make you laugh, and you had to admit you were having a better time than you thought you were going to, enjoying the company of your bestie and her brother, who's mates were exceptionally kind and welcoming.

It wasn't until you overheard a couple of them discussing a fight they had had that you really started paying attention to what was happening around you.

“Wait, are you still part of all that?” you asked Swill, grabbing his arm to make him turn around to face you.

"For life!" he exclaimed, "I'll be dead before I leave it."

"Yeah, well, some of you are making that come true more than others," Fiona scoffed.

You screwed up your face in complete bewilderment, "Wait. What?"

"The head of the firm," she began explaining, "their mate, Pete, nearly died about four months ago in a fight. He's just been back to work the last few weeks and everything. It’s a complete miracle he's even alive."

"Jesus Christ," you muttered. "And he still fights?"

Ike huffed out a laugh before turning serious, "Oh, fuck yeah…like nothing ever happened."

The rest of the lads all excitedly started recalling how intensely this Pete had fought the other day, going on about how their fearless leader was back and stronger than before.

"Is he here?" you asked, wanting to meet this death-defying prodigy of England's roughest unofficial sport.

"'Course he is," said Ned, "he's sat over there in his usual spot." He nodded toward the back corner of the pub, and standing on your tip-toes, you attempted to see over the hoard of heads between where you were and there, but it was impossible to manage.

It was almost hard to believe that these men, who held regular jobs and had seemingly normal lives, still carried on the insane, delinquent habits of the firms brought on from decades prior, and even more so that after one of them was nearly killed, they continued on with more pride than ever.

The match ended in a win for the mighty Hammers, the high spirits of their dedicated supporters lingering on in the pub, helping to keep Pete going despite being the most sober one of all his mates. As the groups of people started to thin out, he was finally able to spot where Fiona and the rest of them had been loitering, his eyes trained on one person in particular.

His heart hammered in his chest as he downed the rest of the beer he had been nursing, praying for the slight nervousness he felt to calm.

"Well, fuck me," he murmured under his breath, standing from the table where he left Dave asking him what he was on about and where he was going.

Not bothering to ease his friend's mind with an explanation, Pete slowly made his way through the crowd, almost afraid that if he moved too quickly, the scene he was walking toward would vanish from his sight like a mirage.

A grin that met his eyes crept up his lips, thinking that maybe dreams didn't fade and die and it was possible that lightning could strike twice after all.

---

Part 2

Taglist:

@stealfromthedevil @inbar-thomas1980 @theesirenteller

If you would like to be added to the taglist for this series or any others, please comment, send an ask or a DM! 💗

[glassica]

The Love Rival

Notes: wlw, toxic yuri, transmigration, magic, obsessiveness, possessiveness, accidental kid-napping, one-sided love, drugging

Gina barely finished the book before seeing herself getting shoved into it to play the role of the female lead. It wasn’t bad, she told herself. The novel was romcom, and for the most part it was full of tooth-rottening sweetness and little banters between Holly, the female lead, with her lover Julian. All Gina needed to do was replicating all the scenes and dialogues happening insides the book and she was good to go. There were trials and obstacles testing the love of the young lovebirds, but Gina concluded only the love rival Elise was worth watching out.

Elise, the love rival in question, was an embodiment of that stereotypical mean girl getting in the way of the main couple. Initially Holly’s best friend, their relationship soon fell apart after the heroine started getting more and more involved with the male lead, which some believed to be Elise’s target. She was a particularly irritating character, always interrupted the couple’s private moments with her childish antics. One time she deliberately fake an illness so Holly had to postponed the date with Julian. Another time she convinced Holly’s parents to let her daughter be escorted everyday by Elise’s carriage, thus preventing the late night trysts her best friend often go with that gentleman. But Gina was confident she could handle this. If anything, she had it easier than other unfortunate transmigrators who were forced to play the roles of villains, her biggest obstacle was only dealing with a petty love rival… or so she thought.

“Lady Elise… Why would you do this to me?... What have I done wrong?”

Gina kneeled down, her head spinning like crazy and eyes started getting blurry. Besides her was a cup of some saccharine-smelled purple liquid spilling all over the altar. When the heart within thumping louder and faster and her breathing began to feel like a chore, Gina could vaguely sense this was the end for her.

Elise’s chuckle was cold, the kind of laughter of a ruthless villain lavished in the madness of their scheme unfolding just as their wish. Well, of course she would, the villainess’s revenge was nearing its final stage.

“Oh, you sure did. You’ve done me wrong. Very, very wrong. Something unforgivable.”

The noblewoman gritted teeth furiously. Her azure eyes normally compared to calming waves of ocean, now resembled the endless raging tsunami determined to swallow whole that defenseless figure into its pit bottom. Gina couldn’t believe the cold-blooded monster right in front of her, whom there was a time, had been the dearest friend to the owner of this body. Was jealousy really that nasty of an emotion to completely erased all those years of good rapport between two young ladies?

Silence downinng the empty church’s atmosphere. Lurking underneath was a sense of dread and bloodlust emanating from the crazy antagonist just served to suffocate further the tormented heroine. Gina hadn’t uttered a single word back, her only goal at this moment was to try catching breath.

“Stop that half-hearted act, will you? I’m getting nauseous already from seeing you imitating my precious friend.”

Gina’s mind, which had been clouded and hazy from the drink, miraculously clear again from the shock. How did she know? Was Lady Elise all this time aware about another soul possessing her old friend’s body? So all this time the one Her Ladyship desire wasn’t the male lead but Holly herself?

“You’re a fraud. A poser. You tried clumsily to mimick the manners and attitude of my dear friend, but you could never be her. Yes, no one. Absolutely no one could ever replace my Holly. Absolutely no one could take her away from me.”

“Those annoying geezers were right. I should’ve consulted a proper wizard instead of hastily attempted a spell when having no experience with sorcery. Now not only I still haven’t own Holly’s heart, some stupid wench out of nowhere possessinng and ruining her body.”

“So you’re the reason behind my situation!” - Gina hissed. “How could you put the blame on me when all of this mess was all from your own misdeed!?”

“Oh sweetheart, do not worry. That’s exactly why I brought you here today! To right all my wrong.”

Elise kneeled down, taking the final look at the trembling figure in front of her. Deep down, she did feel sorry for the unassuming soul who was unfairly involved in this tumultuous one-sided love, but soon Her Ladyship snapped right back. No, she needed to look out for her beloved only, this dummy wasn’t worth getting swayed over.

“Soon enough, your soul will exit this body to make room for the rightful owner’s back. I’ll have Holly all to myself and you get see your old world again. Isn’t that a great deal? Considering this as my apology for making you suffer unjustly, Gina.”

[entertext]

HGSN 22-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

(sfx: wakes up)

Yoshiki: Uwahh!

Yoshiki's mom: Dear...! Are you alright!? Why did you go to Takeda-san's place..!?

Yoshiki: Mom...

Mom: Is it true!? That old Takeda geezer went into a rage and knocked the two of you out?

Mom: The researcher? staying there managed to stop him, but...

P2

Yoshiki: Wait...slow down...you didn't call the police or anything...

Mom: A small quarrel within the village that isn't worth getting the police involved over...that's what it will be settled as, it seems. I seem like a fool. Even if I filed a complaint...

Yoshiki: Enough of that, what about 'Hikaru'...?

Mom: He's sleeping on the next bed...

(sfx: curtain swish)

Mom: But he hasn't woken up yet...

P3

(sfx: thump)

Tanaka: (This katana...)

Tanaka: (I snuck it into Takeda's house for an emergency, but it came in handy. It was able to cut "that" better than I thought)

Tanaka: (This confirms it. It took a long time to get to this point. I'm...really lucky... To think that it's manifesting in this era)

P4

Tanaka: (On top of that, how funny! Not only does it have an ego but it made itself weaker!)

Tanaka: (So things are already progressing towards my goal?)

Tanaka: (But....if that's now the case...)

Takeda: Tanaka!!!

Takeda: My father...they said he probably can't be saved. That it was a heart attack.

Takeda: What the hell happened...!?

P5

Tanaka: ...my apologies. I rushed there but didn't make it in time.

Tanaka: I noticed too late. ...It's my fault.

Takeda: ...

Takeda: My father...had said "I'm next"

Takeda: Was that was true then?

Tanaka: ...seeing the beings on the other side means the other side can find you more easily too

Tanaka: If you find them, the more you fear them, the easier of a target you make

Tanaka: That's all that happened to Matsuura-san and your father.

P6

Takeda: I see...no, to be honest

Takeda: My wife and I were relieved...though that isn't proper to say

Tanaka: ...

Tanaka: ...by the way, my sunglasses

Tanaka: have you seen them?

Takeda: They're right in front of you, aren't they...?

Tanaka: ...

(sfx: splash)

Takeda: You...

P7

Takeda: Is it possible that you're blind?

Tanaka: Yeah....

Tanaka: That's right.

Tanaka: But this is a kind of spiritual impairment. Even with a medical examination, there's nothing wrong

Tanaka: Besides, with these sunglasses I can more or less see

Tanaka: Though its annoying that they're company provisions

Takeda: How long ago?

Tanaka: ...since a very long time ago. Are you finished?

P8

Takeda: Wait

Takeda: What the hell is your goal here?

Tanaka: It's my job

Tanaka: My "company" is looking for a particular thing that originates from the other side

Tanaka: They've searched for several hundred years... It's worth that much effort

Tanaka: And that's why they send people like me out to survey any place that it has even the slightest chance of being in

P9

Takeda: No, I'm talking about your personal motive

Takeda: I don't know anything about that company or whatever

Takeda: But for you to do so much, you must have a reason

Tanaka: Haha, you're suprisingly sharp

Tanaka: Regarding "Nounuki-sama"...it's not wrong to say I plan on doing something about it

Tanaka: At the very least... I'm on the side of humanity

Tanaka: ...but I've just gotten a few more things to do now.

P9

Tanaka: I'll be gone from this village for a moment, so you're responsible for now

Takeda: !? Hey!

Takeda: What about dealing with Nounuki-sama!! If someone gets attacked by impurities...

Tanaka: Please fight them with that katana! Takeda-san, you're 6th dan in Kendo, aren't you?

Takeda: Is that possible!?

(txt: Missed Call: Satou)

==

Next chapter: in two weeks probably

Twitter Extra (link):

If he started speaking before it was stuck back on:

Yoshiki: ....!

Hikaru: How about working at a haunted house?