#baby six feet tall boys

[tao-lay]

Let's jump together

[that-sarcastic-writer]

After Hours

DI!SingleDad!Leon S. Kennedy X F!Teacher!Reader

Summary: You really shouldn't fuck your student's dad. You shouldn't. No matter how hot you think he is. You shouldn't. Right?

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), choking, hair pulling, creampie, soft!dom leon, praising, Leon has a mouth on him, the s stands for slut, parent teacher dynamic, foul language

WC: 8.2k I am so sorry

A/N: guess who just watched death island and guess who wants to fuck di Leon. Yes, this whore. The things that man does to me. Man definitely gave me girl dad vibes in di so I wrote it lol enjoy the Leon filth

Note: this story was inspired by @konigbabe own dad!leon x teacher fic. Hers is definitely way better than mine and definitely recommend checking it out! (Sorry for not mentioning before it was extremely late last night🙃)

Universe Masterlist

You've been teaching second graders for a very long time, and you've never been more in awe and intrigued by a child at the same time. When you met this little girl you knew she would grow on you. But you didn't think she would be so complicated too. 

"Mhm, and she said— Izzy?" You were standing in your designated area during recess duty, talking to the other second grade teacher when one of your students, Isabella, was dragged to your side along with an older boy by another teacher. 

The boy had a scraped up arm, and Izzy was holding her hands together in front of herself and staring at the ground as the teacher held her by her shirt. You stared in confusion for a second before you looked at the teacher. 

"Ms. Miller, what's going on? Why are you dragging Izzy and who is this boy?" You asked, head tilted with confusion. 

"Is this Isabella Kennedy? She wouldn't answer when I asked her." The older lady asked, shooting the brunette girl a nasty look. You frowned, but nodded slowly, replying with a short yes. She continued. "She pushed one of my kids and he's bleeding. You need to take her to the Principal's office and call her parents right now." 

Your eyes widened in shock and your mouth fell open, baffled. You blinked a couple times in disbelief as you looked at Izzy. This girl was a sweetheart, quiet, but kind, she would never hurt another student. 

"Izzy, come baby, we're gonna go sit in my classroom while I call your daddy, mkay?" You shot Ms. Miller a glare that made her let go of Izzy, and you quietly extended your hand to the girl. She took it, quietly following you. 

Maybe today was the day you would finally meet Isabella Kennedy's father. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took five phone calls, three emails, and a good three hours before anyone came for Izzy. It was well past the end of the school day. You had been sitting outside the Principal's office with Izzy for about an hour when a man, tall, close to six feet tall, with a leather jacket and brown hair that fell over his eyes walked down the hall. He had the same intense blue eyes as Izzy. He had a pretty annoyed look on his face too. 

Leon Kennedy.

"Izzy." He called out when he saw her, his low baritone filling the otherwise quiet hall. The little girl lifted her head, blue eyes instantly lighting up at the sight of her dad. 

She instantly got up from her chair and ran to him. He picked her up without hesitation and a frown plastered on his face when she hid her face on his neck with guilt. 

"I'm sorry daddy." 

"Oh, what's wrong? Why are you sorry?" He asked, rubbing her back soothingly, but before she could bust out into tears, you stepped in. 

"Hi. Hey, uhm. I'm Isabella's teacher. Are you Mr. Kennedy?" You felt stupid for asking, he made you feel even more so when he narrowed his eyes at you with this 'seriously?' look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. What's going on? I saw you left me a million voicemails. Is Izzy alright?" He asked, understandably concerned, instinctively checking his daughter for any injuries or marks. 

"Yes she's alright but uhm.. Something happened earlier and I think it'd be good if we spoke in private before you speak with the principal." You bit your lip, watching as his face scrunched up with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. 

"What— y'know what, alright. Just make it quick please." He sighed, saying something to Izzy that you couldn't quite hear before he set her down on her feet. 

"I'm gonna go talk to your daddy for a minute okay? You can go finish that drawing, yeah?" You said to the little girl with a smile. She rubbed her eye but nodded regardless. 

You led Leon to your classroom. You sat on your desk as he sat on the chair you had left for him in case he did show up. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest and legs spread. That man hadn't even said a word yet and you were already sweating. He was full of self assurance and confidence, like he didn't need to say a word for his presence to be the center of attention. And it made you nervous. 

"So uhm, I called you because Isabella got into some trouble today during recess." You started, leaning your elbows on your desk. His face never changed. He had the same stoic expression. 

Seriously?

"Okay." 

"She pushed a fourth grader on the playground, and the kid scraped up his arm." You finished, hoping that would get some kind of reaction. It did. But not the one you were expecting. 

"Oh. Wow, okay." There was a tiny curve on the corner of his lips. You could swear it looked like a smile. "Is she in trouble or something?" 

"Uhm, yes, of course she's in trouble. Our anti-bullying policy is very strict here Mr. Kennedy. She could get suspended for this." 

He rolled his eyes. The motherfucker rolled his eyes. 

"That's not bullying. The kid probably deserved it." He scoffed softly, leaning further back into the chair. He had his eyebrows furrowed, and he was staring you down, pale blue eyes making you want to crawl into your own skin. "Izzy isn't the type to just hurt someone. She's a good kid. Did you even ask why she did it? 

"Well uhm.. Yes, she said the fourth grade boy was bothering her and her friend, he shoved her friend so Izzy, uh, shoved him back, much harder." You cleared your throat, knowing your answer wasn't any better. You didn't want Izzy to get in trouble, but you had to do your job.

"Are you serious?" He had this blank expression on his face, and when you nodded, he gave you a laugh that was this mixture between pride and irritation. "This is ridiculous. A nine year-old boy bullies my seven year-old daughter and her friend, but my daughter is the one that gets in trouble for standing up for herself?" 

You stared at him, lips parted as you tried to come up with an answer. You ran your tongue over your dry lips, no answer actually coming out. He scoffed. 

"Was that all then? This conversation could've been a phone call." He sat up, seemingly getting ready to stand up. You shook your head. 

"No, Mr. Kennedy. There's something else I wanted to discuss with you." 

"It's just Leon, please. I'm not that old." He chuckled, leaning back into the seat. 

Your eyes fell to his chest, slightly exposed by the undone buttons of his shirt. Your words were lost for a second as you imagined what it would be like to see under that shirt, to feel— No. That's inappropriate. Focus. 

"Uhm, I understand you must be busy with your job, Izzy talks about it all the time but I think she would benefit from more involvement from a parent in her academics and activities." You started, leaning forward on your arms. 

"Meaning what? I'm involved plenty." 

"I'm sorry but, I've had your daughter for a semester and a half, and this is the first time I've met you. We've had two parent-teachers conferences so far. I never saw you there. She performed at the winter concert, I don't recall seeing you there either." You explained with a small frown, remembering all the times you had to cheer her up because she was upset about her dad not being there for a school event. "All I'm saying is that if your job doesn't allow it, maybe Izzy's mom can—" 

"No, not an option. It's just me." He cut you off quickly, sitting up quickly as his shoulders tensed. 

You weren't a behavior analyst, but knew that tone. That defensiveness and resentment at the same time, you had seen it time and time again from single parents. It explained a lot. 

"Then she really needs you. You're the only support she has. So be there for your daughter."

"I am. It's just that my job—" 

"With all due respect, your job is not more important than your daughter. Listen, the spring concert is in two weeks. She's performing there with a few other girls. I just ask that you be there for her. Trust me it will do her good. And knowing her dad is there for her will stop her from acting out like this again." 

Leon bit his lip in thought, you could see the gears turning in his head, the way he tapped his index finger on his bicep in thought, but he ultimately sighed. 

"An elementary school concert, is that really necessary? Can't I just take you to dinner instead and we can call it even?" He said it so smoothly you didn't realize his flirtation at first. It took a second for your brain to register he was flirting with you and the tiny smirk on his face made heat rush to your face in an instant. 

"Mr. Kennedy, that is not appropriate." You tried hiding your embarrassment behind a soft laugh, but the way you avoided his eyes said enough. 

"I told you, it's Leon." He corrected you again, grin still on his face, "Alright fine, I'll see what I can do. Can I take Izzy home now?" 

"Yes. I'll email you the RSVP." You finally met his eyes with a small smile of your own as you waved your hand, signaling that he could leave. He nodded, standing up, but before he left you added, "And please look at your emails this time." 

He flashed you a small smile, "Sure Miss." 

~~~~~~~~~~

"Aw Izzy, you look so pretty. Did your daddy help you get ready?" You asked the little girl, her hair neatly pulled back into a bun, glitter scattered on her hair and blue sparkly eyeshadow matched the shades of blue in her outfit. She looked like a princess. 

"Nooo. Daddy doesn't know how to do makeup. Aunt Claire did." She said excitedly and smiled with glee.

Huh, that must be the woman that sometimes picked her up. For the longest time you thought it was her mom. But not after Leon had told you about her mom not being in the picture. Still, you thought maybe you'd get more out of her than her dad. 

"Oh she did a really good job!" You smiled at her as you stood with her, waiting for her turn to perform. "Is your daddy coming?" 

"Yes. He said he would." Good. 

"And your mommy? Is she coming too?" You squinted an eye, knowing you probably shouldn't push your luck, but kids usually never lied, and you wanted to know for sure.

"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just daddy and Aunt Claire. Oh and Uncle Chris. But he's not around much." She said it so blankly it reminded you of her dad. 

It made your heart sink, to think her mom had abandoned her. Which you had the feeling was the case based on the defensive and almost resentful way Leon spoke about it when you met. But somehow it didn't seem to bother Izzy. 

"Well I'm sure your daddy will love to see you perform tonight. It's almost your turn, go find the other girls, I'll be right here." 

She gave you an eager nod and a smile as she ran to her friends, their names getting introduced by the principal a minute later. You stayed in a corner mostly out of sight, but enough where you could see the stage. At one point, you looked towards the far end of the gym, at the top of the stairs. You saw a familiar leather jacket, the man leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest as he watched the stage. You couldn't really see from your distance, but you had a feeling he was smiling. But you were definitely smiling when his eyes found yours. 

"Oh my God you did so good! I can't believe you learned that in a few months!" You said to Izzy, her tiny hand in yours as you walked her through the gym to find Leon.

As you walked out to the hallway, you caught a couple moms whispering not so quietly about the unknown man in a leather jacket that was standing by himself and it almost made you laugh. 

"Hey, is Isabella's dad here? I see she's still attached to your hip." Your friend, Emily walked your way, eyeing the little girl, then you. You raised an eyebrow at her, knowing she just wanted to see who was the mysterious hot single dad she kept hearing about. 

"Mmmm, yeah he's here. He's—" You looked around for a bit, quickly spotting him by himself. You smiled to yourself when your eyes met. "Izzy, your daddy is over there, go. I'll be there in a sec." 

She nodded and ran to her dad. She jumped as soon as she was in front of him and he lifted her in his arms in a heartbeat. You heard her giggles as she wrapped her arms around his neck and he sat her on his hip, hugging her. 

"He's hot. Like really hot." Emily spoke, making you look at her. Your eyes widened and you snorted quietly. "What? He is. He totally gives biker vibes. I wonder if he has a motorcycle. You should ask him to take you on a ride sometime." 

"Emily." You scolded her with a laugh. 

"I'm serious! You should go out with him. Or I will." 

"I'm leaving now, I don't not want to get written up for sexual harassment of a parent. Goodbye Ms. Robinson." You laughed, waving your hand at her dismissively as you walked towards Leon and Izzy. So you could say goodbye to Izzy. Or so you told yourself. 

"Miss! Look what my daddy gave me." Izzy showed you a beautiful white carnation. 

You smiled in awe, both at the flower but also at the sweet gesture. Leon definitely didn't seem the type to give gifts. Maybe you were wrong. 

"Oh wow, that's such a pretty flower! It's almost as pretty as you Izzy. But you're prettier." You giggled with the little girl, who nuzzled further into Leon's chest in a fit of giggles. He thought you weren't looking, but you definitely caught the tiny smile on his face. 

"But you're prettier, Miss! At school we call her Miss Pretty. Cause she's really pretty all the time, right daddy? You were saying that Miss looked really pretty the other day." Izzy lifted her head to look at her dad with her big blue eyes. 

His own eyes grew a bit and a dust of pink covered his otherwise pale face. 

"Isabella." Leon said her name sternly, but the girl just giggled even more. He rolled his eyes and looked at you, a tiny grin on his lips and that same air of confidence that never seemed to falter, even if he was embarrassed. "Okay, say bye to your friends so we can go home. And say bye to Miss Pretty." 

Now it was your turn to be fluttered. 

"Okay. Bye Miss, I'll see you on Monday!" Izzy hugged your waist as soon as Leon put her on her feet. You smiled, crouching down to embrace her properly. 

"I'll see you on Monday Izzy." You smiled, watching as she took off to find her friends. You stood up slowly, eyes meeting with Leon's. "I'm glad you came. She was really happy." 

"Mhmm, I'm glad I came too." His eyes lingered on you. 

God, you were pretty. He took in the way your hair was done differently, maybe for the occasion. Your makeup was different too, nothing too glamorous, but some shimmer on your eyelids and a lipstick that matched. And your dress, it suited you perfectly. But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't prefer to see it on his floor instead. 

"And thank you for talking your way out of her suspension. She's a good kid, I wouldn't want something like that on her file."

"Of course. I adore Izzy, and I've seen first hand she's a sweet kid. Off the record, I didn't want her to get suspended for standing up for herself. You taught her well." You smiled, trying to ignore the blood rushing to your face. 

"Yeah well, I try."

"But I hope this isn't a one time thing though. It'd be good for Izzy if you came around more often." You bit your lip softly, feeling his deep gaze burn into your skin. He nodded, leaning ever so slightly closer. Nothing any prying eyes would notice, but you definitely did. 

"I'll be around, but in the meantime," He bit his lip, eyes darting around for a second before he leaned down to your ear for a split second, saying, "Dinner is still on the table." 

"Mr—" 

"I swear to God if you call me Mr. Kennedy one more time." 

You leaned back, a smile threatening to pull around your lips. And you nodded, digging into your purse for a second before you pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his palm. 

"I'll be seeing you around, Leon." 

He watched you as you walked with a smile on your face. He furrowed his eyebrows curiously but it quickly turned into a grin when he saw what you had written on the post-it note. 

Juat say when. I actually answer my phone. —Miss

"Fuck me." He sighed quietly to himself, shaking his head as he shoved the piece of paper into his pocket and rubbed a hand over his freshly trimmed jaw before calling Izzy. "Izzy, c'mon." 

"You, you evil child are in so much trouble," he chuckled, taking his daughter's hand in his, "You can't be telling daddy's secrets like that, bee. You're gonna get me in trouble." 

"But she's really pretty! And nice. And she makes really good brownies. I like her a lot." She giggled, looking up at Leon with a smile that reminded him that not everything in this world was pain and misery. "You should take her on a date!"

"I asked if she wanted to, actually." 

"Oh my God really? Did she say yes?" 

Leon looked at his little girl with narrowed eyes and smiled, "Since when are you so nosy? Hmph." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn't think Leon would be the chivalrous type to come pick you at your door for your date. But there he was, leaning on his Jeep Wrangler as he waited for you to come down. And when you did, fuck, it made him want to take you right then and there. 

"Woah… You look.." He blew out a small breath and his lips curved up. You nodded, biting your lip softly. 

"Thank you. You look good too." 

"So uh, is Italian alright? I know a really good place downtown." 

The food was great, amazing even, but this, oh this was better than any fancy restaurant. Leon pressed your back against the door, his own body pressing you further into it, preventing from moving. Not that you wanted to. He had one of your wrists pinned above your head as he kissed you, tongue slipping into your mouth to savor the faint wine you had earlier. He used his other hand to hoist you up around his waist, a moan slipping past your throat when his belt brushed against your clothed clit. 

You swore you never had sex on the first date. But for Leon you would be the biggest whore if that’s what he wanted. 

“Mmm Leon,” You panted softly, he hummed as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses. “Izzy. Is she—”

“Not here. She’s at my friend’s for the night.” He answered in between kisses.

“You have a friend that watches your kid while you get laid? Aren’t you lucky?”

“Can we not talk about my babysitting arraignments right now?" He muttered out in between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. 

A soft giggle fell past your lips and you nodded, grabbing the back of his head to kiss his lips again. A satisfied hum rumbled in his throat as he moved his lips with yours, keeping one hand on your ass and the other found the back of your neck as he moved you off the door. He was walking, somewhere, you assumed his bedroom. He parted from your lips to half watch where he was going and you took that opportunity to drag your lips along his jaw. You could tell he hadn't shaved in a few days, but you liked the tingle it gave.  

Leon let out a breathy hum at the feeling of your lips roaming freely along his skin. He bit his lips softly as he fumbled with the doorknob, he eventually got it open. He didn't bother closing it and his feet took him straight to his bed. 

He grabbed the back of your head and pressed another hard kiss to your lips before your back hit his bed. Soft duvets pooled around you as he laid you down, pulling your bottom lip with him as he moved back. 

"Fuck, I knew you'd look so pretty on my bed." He breathed out as he watched you, hair pooling around your head, and makeup already a mess. 

You gave him a shy smile as you sat up on your elbows. His eyes stayed on you as he sunk his weight on one knee, a knee he placed right in between your thighs. And his eyes never left you as he slowly undid the buttons of his navy blue dress shirt. His leather jacket was long gone by the time you had stepped foot inside his apartment.

You watched him with big eyes as he shrugged off the piece of clothing, leaving his muscular chest of full display. And fuck, if he looked huge under layers of clothing, he looked massive now. Your eyes took him all in, an arrangement of scars covered his otherwise pale skin. Scars and all, he was still the most attractive man you had ever met. 

"You look so pretty when you look at me like that." He chuckled softly, his fingers coming up under your chin to make you look up at him, clearly noticing the way you were staring at him, with those eyes and your lips parted.

"You think I'm pretty? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?" You responded without thinking, the words coming out with a breath. 

A smile formed on his lips and he shook his head, watching with amusement as your shaky hands touched his belt. You ran your tongue over your lips as you unbuckled his belt with shaky hands. Leon watched you carefully, his breath picking up when your fingers itched closer to his cock as it strained against his boxer briefs. But when you sat up fully, about to move your knees he grabbed your hands, making you stop. Your eyes shot up to his face with alarm, afraid you had made him uncomfortable. 

"Next time baby," He said with restraint. It wasn't that he didn't want to feel your mouth around him. He'd kill for that. But he could be selfish another time. "Lemme take care of you tonight, yeah?" 

You breathed out shakily, the panic leaving you as soon as the words left his mouth, and a pool of arousal replaced your uneasiness. You nodded. 

"Yeah, okay." 

He gave you a smile that made you ache and he gestured to you to lie down. 

"Lay down for me." He coaxed with a voice so smooth it almost made you whine. He eased a hand up your bare thighs as you did as he told you. 

Your back touched his soft covers again as you took in a sharp breath. You closed your eyes in anticipation as you heard him move around for a second. You gasped when you felt him drag you to the end of the bed by your ankle. You lifted your head and fuck, you could've come right there and there at the sight of Leon, on his knees, with his head between your legs. 

"Leon.." You whined almost desperately, the ache between your legs starting to become unbearable. 

A soft smirk tugged at his lips at the whine of his name and he lifted his head to look at you with feign innocence. 

"What's that pretty girl?" He sneaked a hand under your dress, his thumb barely grazing your clit through your panties. You twitched, a sharp gasp leaving your lips. 

"Please." A weak plea was all you could say. 

"What? Want my mouth on you? Want me to finger you open? Make you come all over my tongue?" He spoke with arrogance, with that same arrogance he always fucking wore. And you hated just how much it turned you on. 

"Yes! Yes! Yes, just please, touch me." You were so pathetic but you didn't care. 

"Oh trust me baby, I'm gonna do so much more than just touch you. You think you can handle me?" He tugged down your panties with such ease and so casually you didn't even realize he did, you were more focused on his question. 

"I… Yes I— Of course I can handle you." 

Leon chuckled at how fast you responded to his question and he bit his bottom lip as he scrunched up your dress up to your hips with his free hand, his eyes lingering on your cunt for a second before he met your gaze again. 

"Tap me twice if it's too much, yeah? A sweet elementary teacher like yourself might not be used to.. Well, me." 

You scrunched up your face a bit at his comment, shooting him a glare that made him chuckle. 

"I won't break Leon." 

A malicious smirk fell on his lips, "That's the point." 

He didn't give you time to reply with another witty remark when he decided he was done talking. He sunk his head between your thighs and his tongue dragged along your clit without a warning. You jolted with a shudder, a loud gasp leaving your lips when you felt his mouth on your already sensitive clit. 

"Oh my—" Your mouth fell open, your eyes slightly fluttering as he circled his tongue over your clit. "Oooh fuck." 

Your head fell back against the mattress as he continued to work you with his tongue. He drew circles around your clit before he moved down to your wet entrance then back up to your clit. Over and over until you were writhing on the bed. 

"Shit— Leon—!" The sound that left your mouth was pathetic, a mixture between a cry and a whimper when he slipped two of his long fingers into you. 

He groaned against you, lapping at your pussy as he slid his fingers in and out with ease. And you couldn't help the way you were grinding back against his face. It had been a long fucking time since a guy had even bothered to eat you out, let alone like this. He didn't mind it, but the way you kept sliding up the bed every time he curled up his fingers against that one spot was annoying him. With his free hand he grabbed your hip with a tight grip and slid your body back down, holding you against his face. And he held you there, with his fingers deep inside your pussy, his mouth lapping at your clit and both of your legs thrown over his shoulders. You had nowhere to go and he was more than pleased about that. 

"Fuck fuck— Shit Leon please—" You eyes were rolled into the back of your head, head thrown back as you writhed against his face. "Please— I'm so close please, please don't stop." 

Fuck, you sounded so pretty when you pleaded to him like that. He could feel his cock strain harder against his pants just at the sound. He hummed, closing his lips around your clit and suckled. You didn't mean to, but your hand fell to the back of his hair and you pulled. And my God you pulled hard. 

Leon growled at the feeling of your fingers tangling and tugging at his hair. The vibrations made you whine and you did it again. But this time he pulled back enough to speak. 

"Pull my hair one more time, I swear to God." He grunted the words. But he wasn't angry. God, he wasn't angry in the slightest. But he knew he only had so much self control left in his body.

You didn't reply, you simply loosened your grip on his honey brown strands, but you kept your hand on the back of his head and his lips found your clit again. And you did your best to not latch on to his hair again, but fuck it was so hard when his fingers hit so deep and his tongue felt so good. You were so fucking close, you couldn't help it. 

"Mhmm yeah that's it, I know you wanna come. Yeah, you wanna come don't you sweet girl?" He grunted, spitting on your clit as he scissored you open, the palm of his hand rutting against your clit. "I know you do, c'mon, come for me." 

When you felt his tongue on your clit again you couldn't help it. Your mouth fell wide open as your heels dug into his shoulders. Your eyes were squeezed shut as your mind went blank and you couldn't help yourself, your fingers dug so deep into his hair as you held his face against you he actually grunted in pain. 

But he didn't stop, he lapped at your juices as you convulsed under him, the lewd sound of his palm against your wet cunt shooting straight to his cock. 

He didn't stop sucking at your clit until you were twitching with aftershock and you were weakly pulling his head back by the ends of his hair. Only then his fingers left you and he was pulling back. He watched you through narrowed eyes as you panted, your hands now on your face as you tried to come back down to earth. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he rose his feet. 

He fumbled with his pants as he climbed on the bed and before you even realized it, he grabbed you, hands under your armpits to drag you up the bed. You stammered at the sudden manhandling. 

"Leon—" He didn't even let you finish before he was flipping you on your stomach, his bare back pressing you down on the mattress. 

"What did I say about pulling my hair, hm?" He breathed out into your ear, harshly tugging down his boxer briefs enough to pull out his cock. 

"I— I'm sorry—" You gasped as he not to gently unzipped your dress and pulled it over your head. 

He didn't let you sit up though. With a large hand in between your shoulders, he sat up enough to sit back on his knees, his cock in his hand as he pumped himself a few times. 

"No you're not." He sighed out, eyes closing for a split second as he dragged his cock between your wet folds. He heard you whine against his pillows, but you made no effort to move from where he held you. "Move that pretty little ass of yours up here. Need you to stay down though." 

With a soft whimper, you stuck your ass up in the air, meeting his hips. His eyes fell on your ass, lips slightly parted he slowly sank himself into you. He watched as his cock disappeared inside your tight walls until only a little bit of him was left. But he didn't want to push you too hard, you couldn't fit all of him. 

Leon sat still for what felt like years, but in reality it was merely a minute or so. His eyes were closed as he dragged a hand up and down your back, easing you until he knew he could move. It took you some time to adjust to his size, your eyes were squeezed shut as you fists clenched his sheets. But it wasn't long before you were begging him to fuck you. 

"Leon— Please. Need you to fuck me, please." You muttered into the sheets as you turned your head to the side so that your cheek was pressed into the mattress. 

"Mhmmm, 'course you do." Fuck, he was going to ruin you. 

He dragged his cock out slowly, slow enough for you to feel every inch of him, until you were nothing but pathetic noises. He was almost all the way out when he slammed in again, making your body slide up the mattress. He did the same again, and again, fucking your body into the mattress like no one you had ever been with before. This man was going to be the death of you. Your student's dad. There were so many things wrong with what you were doing, but fuck, you couldn't list a single one of those things that could ever top this. 

You were brought back to this reality by the feeling of his lips dragging up your bare spine. You felt a cold shudder run through your whole body as he leaned over you, his bare back pressed against yours and his hips rutting against your ass, so much so you could feel the rough material of his pants brush against your ass and the sound of his belt rattling with each snap of his hips. But that only made it better. To think he was so eager to fuck you he couldn't be bothered to take his pants off. That idea alone made you see white.

With your mind on a different planet entirely, you didn't realize the grip he had on your hair. Until you felt him pull your head back by your hair. His fingers were tangled to the root as he pressed his lips to your ear. 

"You like how that feels, hm?" You had a feeling his question was rhetorical, that you weren't supposed to enjoy the forcefulness of his actions, because he was clearly punishing you for what you did earlier. But you would be lying if you said it didn't make you even wetter. He definitely felt the way you clenched around him and he laughed. "Oh? So you do huh? Pretty Miss Teacher likes it when I'm rough with her?" 

You were nodding against his grip, as best as you could anyway, a soft cry being a pretty good sign that you did, indeed liked it. You should be ashamed of how much you wanted this man to ruin you, to use you as he pleased. But the way he was buried deep inside your cunt felt way too good to feel any shame. 

"Yes! Yes, please be rough with me." You managed to choke out. You heard the groan that rumbled in his chest at your words. 

Leon was flipping you on your back and slamming back into you before you even had time to protest. You instantly wrapped your legs around his torso as he resumed his pace, only that this time, his hips snapped much harshly with each thrust he gave you. His lips found your neck as one of his hands rested on the column of your neck, he didn't squeeze or touch your throat, he simply held you down as he fucked you into the mattress. 

His fingers twitched, the urge to wrap them around your throat making his cock throb, but he otherwise decided against it, not wanting to push you too hard on your first night together. So to avoid giving in to his urges he itched to move his hand beside your head instead. You felt his hand leave your neck and something deep within your core didn't want him to, so your hand flew to catch his wrist. 

"Choke me." You blurted out, so heated that you didn't even think of how embarrassed you normally would be to ask such a thing. 

Leon lifted his head enough to look at your face, his lips parted as he panted softly, strands of his hair falling over his eyes but he could see you clearly. He heard you loud and clear, too. 

"Shit baby," He groaned out, lips crashing against yours in a messy kiss before he returned his hand to your neck, but this time, he actually wrapped his fingers around your throat. "You're gonna be the fucking death of me. Such a pretty thing, sweet to everyone, with those pretty dresses of yours and that beautiful smile of yours. And you're asking me to choke you. Fuck." 

He squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to make you feel a bit dizzy, but in the best way possible. You were so close, you could feel the burning ache in the pit of your stomach, and with the way his cock hit your most sensitive spot with every thrust, you knew you wouldn't last long. 

"Ah— Shit— Leon—" Your sounds were choked out, barely audible, but he heard the way you were begging, the way you said his name, it drove him fucking insane. "I wanna—" 

"Mhmm, I know baby. You wanna come all over my cock, hm? Yeah you do," He dug his teeth into his already red lip as he sneaked his free hand in between your bodies and began rubbing harsh circles around your clit, making your hips jerk. "Yeah that's it— Fuck, atta girl. Lemme feel you fall apart for me." 

He didn't even have to tell you, you were seeing white the second his thumb touched your clit. You dug your nails into his skin, surely leaving a few marks to find in the morning. But he couldn't care less. He couldn't help but moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock. He held you down to the mattress as he drilled into you, his own release not too far now. 

"Yeah— yeah that's it. Good girl. You're such a good girl." He dragged through pants, his fingers squeezing your throat tightly. "Fuck— Fuck I'm gonna— Shit." 

He was about to pull himself out, so as to not finish inside you, but you held him tight, legs securely wrapped around his torso. He looked you through half lidded eyes as you nodded at him. 

"Please." You couldn't say much, with his hand on your throat and all, but he understood what you meant and the idea of you letting him come inside you made him lose the little control he still had left. 

"Oh fuck— fuck that's a good girl— Ah—" His head fell to your neck as he cradled your head with the hand not your neck and he squeezed his eyes shut as he fell still, holding you down on his cock as he came with a throaty moan. "Mhmmm. Just like that. Take it just like that." 

His hand slowly released your throat, and you gasped softly as your head spun with adrenaline. Your eyes fluttered shut as you held him, arms lazily thrown over his shoulders as your fingers lightly threaded his hair. You felt his breath hot on your neck as he panted. Your own breathing was as hard and fast as his for a minute or so. But he didn't mind holding until you both calmed down. It was a while before you felt him move, probably when he got tired of holding his weight. He left a kiss on your jaw before he moved to lay on his back beside you. 

Leon turned his head to look at you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, face glistening with sweat, makeup absolutely ruined and hair tousled and pooled around your head. And even like that you were still the prettiest thing he had ever laid eyes on. 

"I wasn't too rough on you, was I?" He asked quietly, knowing he sometimes could be a bot too much.

You turned your head to look at him, and you found those pale blue eyes staring at you with concern, you gave him a tired smile. 

"Of course not. I… I liked it. I don't think anyone's ever made me come like that before." You admitted with a dry laugh. His eyebrows shot up a bit with surprise, but that surprise quickly turned into pride. 

"Well, I do like to be the exception." 

"Oh shut up." You playfully smacked his arm and he chuckled. 

You couldn't help but smile, but your expression fell a bit when you thought he probably would want you to go home. That's usually how that was, right? I mean he had a daughter, he probably didn't want his daughter's teacher— who he had just fucked senseless, to stay the night. Right? Probably not. You sighed softly as you moved your hair away from your face and sat up. You missed the confused look Leon gave you. 

"You leaving or something?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows as he sat up, watching the way you were reaching over the edge of the bed to grab your dress from the floor. But you quickly sat back to look at him, also confused. 

"I mean… I'm supposed to, right?" 

Leon scrunched up his face with confusion and slightly tilted his head, "You're supposed to?" 

"Well. Uh… Yeah. I mean, Izzy—" He cut you off right then and there. 

"Hey no, it isn't like that. I don't… I don't do that." You frowned at him, confused by what he meant. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, getting the strands out of his face. "I wasn't going to fuck you then ask you to leave. I'm not like that. It's late, and I drove you. Izzy isn't coming home tonight. You can stay. If you want of course, if not I can drive you home, I just—" 

Now it was your turn to cut him off. He gasped in surprise when you crashed your lips against his. His lips curved up into a smile as he held your face. He kissed you much softly now. 

"I wouldn't mind staying." You finally said, smiling against his lips. 

"I wouldn't mind either." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't exactly sure when, but you had fallen asleep, with Leon's arms wrapped around you as he held you to his chest. But rays of sunlight were hitting your face now as they slipped through the open curtains he probably forgot to close the night prior. You scrunched up your nose, squinting your eyes as you pressed your face further into the pillow. But it was too late now, you were awake and there was no way to fall back asleep. As much as you would love to just cuddle up to Leon and sleep some more. Speaking of, as you peeled your eyes open you saw him, still sleeping peacefully next to you. 

He laid on his stomach, the covers pooled around his waist as his face was buried deep into his pillow. His honey brown hair was tousled from sleep and from your doing the night prior, and loose strands hung over the side of his face. God, he looked absolutely gorgeous. You really should've felt guilty for sleeping with one of your classroom parents. But when you woke up to a sight like that? You regretted nothing. 

You debated on staying in bed with him, at least until he woke up and decided to take you home, but you really needed a bathroom. So you carefully maneuvered your way out of his bed, dressed yourself in the first thing you found— his dress shirt from last night and tip toed out of his bedroom. You felt so weird walking around his house without his permission, but he hadn't exactly given you a tour last night. So you ventured until you found a bathroom. By the time you were done Leon still hadn't left his bedroom so you decided to find his kitchen for a glass of water at least. You looked around on your way to the kitchen. He wasn't much of a decorator. It was definitely the apartment of a single man. But as soon as you walked to the kitchen you saw countless drawings and pictures hanging from the fridge. 

Your heart warmed as you walked to see the drawings up close. There were definitely Izzy's. You smiled to yourself at the photo you saw next to one of the drawings, one of Leon, a few years younger, holding a baby in a hospital blanket. All of the other photos you saw were similar. It was only Leon and Isabella in all of them. Not a single one of Izzy's mom. 

Did she never want to be a part of her life? Was she truly never around? 

"You tried to run away last night, and when I wake up you're gone, too? Was I that bad?" You jumped at the sound of Leon's voice in the kitchen. 

You cursed loudly, holding a hand to your rapidly beating heart as you glared at him, making him laugh. 

"Asshole. I wanted to use the bathroom, and you were still asleep." You shrugged your shoulders, eyeing him carefully. Still no shirt, but he was wearing a pair of plaid pajamas pants now. He had his phone in his hand and was scratching the back of his head, attempting to smooth down his bedhead. 

"You look pretty with my shirt. Looks better on you actually." He hummed as he padded through the kitchen to stand in front of you.

He stood in front of you, watching you intently for a few seconds before he leaned in, pressing his lips against yours. 

You giggled against his lips, happily kissing him. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he rested his hands on your hips. 

"Mmm, you hungry?" He asked, brushing his nose against yours and his lips were curled up into a grin. You nodded, biting your bottom lip. "Me too." 

You gasped when he hoisted you up on the kitchen island. You gripped his shoulders as you watched him with wide eyes. But he said nothing as he nudged your legs open with his knee and stood in between them. 

"What? I said I was hungry." He smirked as he captured your lips with his own one more time before he dropped to his knees in front of you. 

Without taking his eyes off from you, he threw one of your ankles over his shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of your knee. Slowly, his lips itched closer and closer to your already dripping core. You held your breath with anticipation as he nibbled on your inner thigh. His lips were so close to where you needed him the most. His head got lost between your thighs and your hand instinctively fell on the back of his hair. His breath fanned hot against your clit and—

You jumped, your ass nearly slipping right off the counter, but Leon steadied you with a quick sturdy hand on your thigh. He was also startled by the sound of his phone ringing next to you. He closed his eyes, cursing under his breath. 

You took a deep breath, inhaling sharply as you looked beside you at his phone screen. 

"It says Claire." 

Leon shot up to his feet in a split second when you said that and he was answering the call almost frantically. 

"Hey. What's up? Everything alright?" He said into the phone, still standing between your parted legs. You frowned softly with concern, your hand resting on his chest as he listened to the woman on the line. "Shit, really?" 

He said nothing for a few seconds, just humming and nodding to himself before he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed out an exasperated sigh. 

"No, you're okay, thanks for calling, Claire. Just give her some cereal, play her a Disney movie or something while I get there." He finally spoke, finally looking at you. And his blue eyes looked apologetic. "Yeah, I'll be there in fifteen. Yeah. See you soon." 

Leon placed his phone on the counter beside you and sighed. You looked up at him, eyes big with worry. 

"It's Izzy. I left her at my friend’s and apparently she woke up fuzzy. She's been crying all morning asking for me, so, gotta go pick her up." He explained, the corner of his lip curving up into an apologetic smile. You exhaled softly, the anxiety leaving your chest. 

You gave him a smile and pressed a kiss to his lips, "I get it. Don't worry. I'll get dressed so you can pick her up. I'm sorry I kept you from picking her up last night." 

"Oh, no sweetheart, don't say that. Last night was incredible. She just gets… Clingy I suppose." He sighed as he helped you down from the counter. 

"You're her only parent. It's normal. I should know." You gave him a smile as you started to head to his bedroom to get your clothes, but he grabbed your wrist, tugging you to his chest before you could. 

"Hey, I still owe you breakfast. Can I take you out again sometime?" 

The smile on your face was so wide you probably wouldn't be able to hide it even if you tried. 

"Yeah, I'll be around." 

[berzahoes]

when you know you know | tom blyth

summary: the idiots finally meet (nepo baby!reader)

an: i can always count on reddit for inspiration bc i rewrote this a bunch of times 😭 also these are just random names for the friends lol @astheni-a

“don’t look now, but the guy behind you is staring.” your friend, meg, whispered to you. you and a couple of your girlfriends were seated in the food court of the mall. after a while, meg noticed that a group of guys sat a few tables away, one of them occasionally glanced at you.

“he’s cute,” your other friend, layne, joined in.

your other friend beside you, louise, smirked at you. “someone’s got a crush. think about it, we can all go on dates together if he asks you out.”

you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even know what he looks like. meg told me not to look.”

“he has brown hair, probably six feet and really pretty eyes. i think that’s all you need to know about your future man.” meg said.

“you just described almost every boy here,” you replied. you looked down at your drink and noticed it was almost empty so you gathered your trash and decided to go throw it away. “i like being single anyways. i have more me time.”

“babe, we know you don’t like it. just talk to lover boy over there and if you don’t like him then that’s that. we won’t push you to talk to any one else ever again.” layne said.

“just this one time.” you sighed. secretly, you did want someone to love. you never had an official boyfriend. during high school, you were talking with a guy from math class, but you quickly found out he just wanted to meet your famous dad. after that, you had difficulty knowing what relationship and friendships were real.

you stood up with your empty drink cup and walked to the nearest trash can. after throwing your trash away, you tried to look over your shoulder to see what boy meg had been taking about, but you couldn’t figure out who it was. brown hair, pretty eyes, tall . . . that could be anyone.

you sighed and decided to just turn around and look instead of looking like a creep, but just as you turned around, a guy had walked right in front of you almost causing his drink to spill.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry.” you immediately apologize.

“it’s okay, um are you . . . okay?” he asked shyly.

“yeah, I’m good. i’m sorry again. i . . yeah sorry.” you kept repeating as you looked at his eyes. they were a beautiful blue color. you were a sucker for colored eyes. well the british accent was a bonus too.

“i’m tom.” he introduced himself.

“i’m yn. nice to meet you. sorry for almost making you drop your drink. sorry, i apologize too much. it’s a habit.” you chuckled nervously.

get it together, yn

“no, it’s fine, wasn’t really drinking it anyways. so . . are you here alone?” he asked, but regretted it immediately when he noticed it might’ve sounded creepy.

“no, i’m with my friends. i’m sorry, again, i noticed the accent, you’re british. are you visiting good ol’ new york?” you questioned.

“studying here actually. i go to juilliard. what about you?”

“i’m actually from los angeles but i visit here quite often. it’s my second home. but i do travel a lot so i call multiple places my second home. sorry if i ramble, i do that when i start getting comfortable.”

from the table, your friends saw how you talked with a stranger.

“does anyone know how to lip read?”

“shhh! shut up layne!”

“who’s gonna tell her that’s not the guy we were talking about?”

“i don’t want to break her heart. plus he does look exactly like how meg described so a win is a win.”

[whenthewallfell]

Katniss describing Prim: blonde, little duck tail, could pass for a merchant, the most precious baby in the whole world.

Katniss describing Gale: idk he looks like me if I were a dude and also over six feet tall, we could be cousins. Good looking. Serious.

Katniss describing Peeta: strong, stocky, sturdy, ashy blonde hair that falls in waves and sparkles in the sunlight, blue eyes that hint at whole worlds locked away, pale lashes so long that they tangle together, the most beautiful boy I have ever-

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - one

All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six

“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.

My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.

“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.

I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.

“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.

“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.

The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.

The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.

His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.

The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”

His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.

“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.

“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.

“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.

A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.

A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”

A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”

The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”

Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.

Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.

I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.

“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.

Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”

“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”

“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.

“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”

Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.

Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”

I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.

“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”

[enviedear]

A request throught for billy the kid.

He goes to a bar where a barmaid owns and works there, and they sleep together, and when he comes back, she has a little boy running around that looks a whole lot like him....

girl from the north country — billy bonney

request

i got this ask and my brain immediately went 'bob dylan rendition of girl from north country' because this trope has that song written all over it.

tw— allusions to the deed, hidden baby trope, use of, 'momma' as a pet name.

less than three years ago, you made the grave decision to bed an outlaw. he was sweet and soft with you, sweet talking his way into your britches. it had been a fun night, but despite your delighted evening, a sinking feeling took hold of you the minute he caught your eye.

his name was billy. or at least, he went by billy. he was a mess of dark brown hair, kind blue eyes, and honest nature. it felt like fate when you saw him. he had been sitting at the bar, quiet and lonesome. you found it easy to talk to him.

he had given you a bright smile, engaging you in casual conversation as the night turned to morning. slipping out with you when you closed down the bar, only to follow you up the road to your small homestead.

you had never seen him before, but after he left town, you soon learned exactly who he was. wanted posters with his likeness followed his trail, leaving you tight-lipped about the entire situation.

it was about six months after his visit that your lips finally began to move, coming up with fruitless excuses for the townspeople. by then, your stomach had already started to round, bulging into something plain and inescapable. at first, you were terrified and even considered fleeing to another town and opting to try and pass as a widow. even now, despite yourself, the thought lingers in the back of your mind.

you've been lucky though, the town is nice enough to not ask you questions. just watchful stares and a few upturned noses. you kept your job at the gin mill, working through the night while your married friend watched the baby.

you've found yourself a quiet life—a growing meadow of life hidden in the hellish and desolate west.

with a sigh, you turn your attention back to the clothesline, grabbing at the last of the dry garments and flinging them in your basket. there's a storm brewing close in the distance, and a loud crack of thunder has the small child at your feet fretting.

you pick up your fussy toddler, his pink lips curled into a frown, "c'mon bubba, s'just a little storm."

you glance at the darkening sky, feeling the first droplets of rain on your skin. the wind picks up, causing the clothesline to sway with a creak. cradling your son in your arms, you hurry inside, leaving the clothes in your haste of trying to beat the approaching storm.

inside the cozy warmth of your small homestead, you try to soothe the worried toddler in your arms. the distant rumble of thunder grows louder, and you decide it's best to stay cooped up, work be damned. as you settle into a rocking chair, softly humming a lullaby to the sweet boy in your arms, the rain begins to patter against the window.

the hours pass slowly, the storm raging outside, when a sudden knock on the door startles you. with caution, you approach and peer through the small window and see a tall figure drenched in rain, barely recognizable underneath his sopping hat.

you open the door, and the man looks up. his eyes are kind, and eerily familiar. looking like a drowned man, standing at your door, is billy. he looks apologetic and somewhat sheepish. rainwater drips from the brim of his hat as he mumbles, "m'sorry for showing up like this, i wasn't even sure if you were still here."

you eye him cautiously, memories of your night shared with him resurfacing, but the storm outside softens your resolve, "what brings you here, billy?" you inquire, staring up at the rain-soaked outlaw before you, taking in his genuine expression.

his voice trembles as he confesses that he never meant to stay away for so long— but life on the run has its cruel complications. now, drenched and shivering in the midst of a raging storm, he pleads for refuge in your home, desperation etched onto every word as he begs for forgiveness and a safe haven from his pursuers.

hesitating for a moment, you look back at your toddler playing on the floor. with a sigh, you relent, "alright, billy, you can come in, but just until the storm passes."

as he steps inside, you notice the surprise in his eyes when he sees the boy. he's donned in a darling little linen onesie, your own hands had worked tirelessly over the garment. his bright eyes look between you and billy, the hue of your own eyes evident and the blue of billy's scattered throughout. a perfect blend.

a silence hangs in the air as realization slowly dawns on him. his gaze shifts between you and your little one, and in that moment, he connects the dots.

his voice softens, "is he... is he mine?"

the question sends a shiver down your spine and all of your carefully constructed defenses slowly crumble around you. there's no denying it now, the truth of what had happened was laid bare for both of you to see, innocent face staring up at the both of you. you stand in place, your feet rooted to the ground. you can feel your heart pounding in your chest as you realize the confession you're about to make. taking a deep breath, you finally relent.

a nod is all you can manage, the weight of the unspoken truth lingering in the room. billy takes a step closer to the little boy and you start. but his intentions are gentle as he reaches out to touch the top of his child's head, "i never knew." he murmurs, a mix of regret and wonder in his eyes.

you watch as billy kneels down to meet your son at eye level. the child looks up at him with innocent curiosity, and you can't help but feel a twinge of anger mixed in with the guilt that had been festering inside of you for so long. you had carried the weight of this secret for years, the fear of the townsfolk finding out and ostracizing you and your child from the community. but looking down at billy's face, you know that it's time to come clean.

"he's almost three now, billy," you say softly, the regret in your own voice almost palpable, "i didn't know how to find you...i didn't even know your name back then."

billy's expression softens as he turns to look at you, his eyes full of sorrow, "i understand," he says, his voice gentle. "m'sorry i wasn't there for you. for both o'you."

you nod, knowing his words are earnest, "you couldn't have known." you say quietly.

billy stands up and walks towards you, his arms open. his eyes are sad, but they hold a fierce longing that you can feel despite any attempt to deny it. his body radiates with a warmth that you can't help but feel drawn to, despite all of the fear and regret that fills your heart. you close your eyes, allowing yourself to be enveloped by his embrace, feeling his arms wrap around your body and pull you close.

"i'm sorry," he whispers into your ear. "god, m'so sorry for everything."

you nod, unable to find your voice. the storm outside rages on, but inside, the atmosphere is one of acceptance and forgiveness. you have both been through so much, but now, with the truth out in the open, it feels like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. you look up into billy's eyes, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

"i forgave you a long time ago," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, "figure i can't keep hiding this little one away from his father. not now, wouldn't be right."

billy nods, his eyes now filled with hope, "i want to be a part of his life, if you'll let me," he says, his voice filled with a conviction that sends shivers down your spine.

you nod, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes, "of course," you say, your voice filled with a mixture of relief and sadness. "he deserves to have his daddy."

billy smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners, cupping your cheeks, "what about his momma? seems like she's been gettin' on fine without a man around."

you hum, trying to ignore how easy your heart skips for him, "i reckon she'll make him grovel 'fore she'll be his sweetheart again."

your outlaw lets out a soft chuckle, "then i best get to grovelin', momma."

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[jasonsmirrorball]

OCTOBER 28: IF I CAN'T HAVE YOU BABY (NO ONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD CAN) JASON TODD (3.3K)

kinktober prompt: overstimulation | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. jason doesn't seem to understand just how attractive he is, so it falls to you to make sure he knows who he belongs to.

cw: f!reader, edging, overstimulation, oral sex (m! receiving), piv sex, public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk, dom!reader, minor begging, switchy jason, possessive reader minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact you will be blocked

You leave Jason’s side for one brief moment–the host of the party comes up to where you’re standing in the kitchen, asking for a favour as more and more people start arriving and you excuse yourself from his arms with a playful wink. 

“We need to go on a drinks run,” she lets you know, running a hand through her hair, and you giggle when it moves away from her shoulder, exposing the spot on her neck to you. She grins, her gaze cutting across the room to find the perpetrator, a tall, brown skinned boy who, judging by the way he’s looking at her, is eagerly waiting for her to return to him. “Can you move your car for a sec? Sorry, I didn’t think I’d need to use the car tonight.”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head. “Oh! Yeah, no, of course.”

It’s easy enough to pull out of the driveway, Jason’s keys still in your purse from where he’d slipped them earlier but finding a spot on the crowded suburban street is difficult, and by the time you return to the house, you’re impatient to get back to Jason’s side.

It had taken a monumental effort on your part to even get him here, tonight, after the week the both of you had had, and you weren’t sure he’d be pleased at being left alone for too long. He’d only started to loosen up a little when you’d been called away, eyes slipping into a half lidded gaze that warmed you right down to your toes, hands possessively skimming the too tiny skirt you’d zipped yourself into. 

A low bass reverberates through the walls when you enter, thumping loud enough that you feel it as you make your way across the floor, crawling up from the ground and settling in your veins. All around you, bodies are bathed in a soft blue and purple glow, glitter refracting off exposed collars and arms. Your own wrists twinkle with the residue as you bump into girls who giggle out drunken apologies, and you can’t help but smile. 

Still, you weave your way through the packed first floor to the back of the house, where the crowd thins and tapers off. Only a few people mill about in the kitchen, and surprisingly, your boyfriend isn’t one of them. 

You stop short in the entrance to the kitchen, sweeping across the space to make sure you haven’t missed him, but sure enough, not a single one bears any resemblance to your six foot something man. 

“I think he went to the bathroom!” one of the guys nearby says, who’d been talking to Jason when you’d last seen him, and you shoot him a grateful smile before spinning on your heel. 

You go no further than the foyer, about to climb the staircase, when your gaze pulls back into the living room and–

There he is. Standing at the far edge of the room, pouring himself a drink, bathed in bright violet and indigo, is Jason. You admire the lines of his face, lips shiny from the drink in his hands and catching the light. 

As though tugged forward by some invisible thread, your feet propel forward of their own conviction, and you’re pushing through the throng again, swallowed by the sea of bodies but your gaze remains on the man ahead.

Even beneath the jacket he dons, the white t-shirt is tight around his chest and you stare shamelessly, flames sparking low in the pit of your stomach when you catch a glimpse of the chain around his neck, silver glittering low in the light as he shifts, tucked into the collar where its pendant remains unseen. 

You reach the edges of the crowd and your steps slow as you approach him, blood icing over when you take in the girl he’s talking to. Reaching out, you murmur his name.

It mollifies you that he hears you immediately, head snapping your way and eyes lighting in quiet pleasure. 

“Sweetheart.” He curls an arm around your waist unthinkingly and you settle into his side, offering the girl–still unnamed–a quick smile. “What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” you reply, peering into the cup in his hand. “Had to move the car, and it took forever to find somewhere to park. What’s in this?”

“Just juice–that was mine,” he chides, when you finish the rest of it off. “Nice, baby. Really nice.”

“You’re not drinking tonight?”

It takes you a moment to realise the question is addressed to you, Jason’s companion looking at you expectantly and you startle, jumping to answer. 

“Sorry, yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow, so…” you hold the cup up by way of explanation, and she nods, face breaking out into an understanding grin.

She’s pretty, with sleek dark hair and eyes that are curtained by a set of thick, full lashes. You feel a little silly, when she smiles at you so nicely, for acting so childishly. She doesn’t seem to have noticed your little pout, though, or if she has she doesn’t let on, tucking a lock of hair behind her hair and introducing herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” she says, and you shake your head in agreement, giving her your name. Her eyes cut back and forth between you and Jason, and then she’s stepping back a little, jabbing a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ve gotta get going, but I’ll probably see you guys around.”

“See you,” you echo and behind you Jason mutters the same sentiment, his chin brushing the top of your head. 

You wait until she’s out of sight before turning in his arms, hand coming up to slip under the neck of his top. Immediately he begins to squirm, sputtering protests laced with incredulous laughter. “Sweetheart–what are you–”

Your fingers hook under the chain of his necklace, and tug it out until it lays over his shirt, pendant settling against the white material, the blunt silver of your initial hanging over his heart. Only then do you let go. 

When you go to turn back around, he catches your chin in his hand, eyes searching yours for a moment before his mouth breaks out into the most cocky grin you’ve ever seen, dripping with barely contained arrogance. You know then that you’ve been caught out but you simply raise a brow, keeping your face impassive as best as you can.

“Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he lilts playfully, voice dropping as he bends his head closer, “is something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine, Jason,” you say coolly and if possible, his smirk only widens. 

“You sure, baby?” he prods innocently, tilting his head, puppy-like and mockingly naive. Red skims across his jaw, a slash of light that highlights just how sharp his features are, pretty and inviting. 

“I’m sure.” Flatly voiced, it’s a poor assurance and you both know it. You stare up at him for a moment before announcing, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

His brow quirks at the turn of subject but he bobs his head, setting down his empty cup on the sideboard. “Okay, let’s go.”

You turn on your heel and make your way to the stairs. Jason’s hands remain at your waist, close behind as he follows you through the crowd and up the steps. Most of the party is downstairs, and it grows quieter–only marginally–as you climb to the second floor. The music is muddied through the floorboards, pulsing beneath your shoes with every step.

You leave the door open behind you and moved further into the space. When it clicks shut, you know that Jason has followed you in. Good, you think, and lean over the sink to peer into the mirror. 

For a few beats, there is only silence, words unspoken over the muffled pounding of the music below. You fiddle with your outfit, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt and wiping the corner of your mouth where the lipstick you’d applied has begun to smudge. In the corner of your eye, Jason leans against the door and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. 

You turn to face him, resting against the sink. He straightens under your gaze.

“Do you get off,” you say steadily, voice low, “on provoking me?”

“Provoking you?”

You push off the sink, taking slow steps towards him. Your shoes click against the floor, and downstairs the music shifts to something more upbeat. You watch Jason’s eyes lazily drag down your figure, his throat jumping when you close the small distance between the both of you.

You reach up, hooking your index finger under the chain around his neck. The letter rests against the pad of your finger, the accompanying birthstone twinkling with the movement. 

“It’s funny,” you muse, your tone anything but amused. “You wear this, but it really feels like you don’t know who you belong to. Guess I’m gonna have to show you. Is that what you want?”

When he doesn’t speak, you tug on the chain and he jerks forward, lashes fluttering and pupils expanding as he stares down at you. In one breath, his teal irises are swallowed by onyx pools, lips parting in want.

“Yeah,” he rasps out. “Yeah, that’s what I want.”

You shake your head before pulling him down and slotting your mouth to his. He tastes sweet, the juice lingering on his tongue. Hands wrap around your waist and you press closer, feeling the heat of his chest against yours. The leather of his jacket squeaks with the strain of his arms and you can’t help but smile into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick at the seam of his mouth. 

“Lock the door,” you murmur into his mouth, willing your voice to remain steady but it comes out a little breathless. He huffs out a laugh but reaches behind him nonetheless, twisting the lock with a click that echoes slightly in the tiled bathroom. 

You twist away slightly, redirecting your attention to his jaw and grazing your teeth along the skin there. He shivers, head dropping against the wooden door and providing you better access. Control steadily unravelling, you surge forward to mouth at his neck. He squirms, pitiful little exhales bordering on whines as you lave at the skin, pulling it with your teeth and soothing it over with your tongue. 

“Ah–sweetheart, I–” he stumbles over his words, hands gripping the fabric of your skirt tightly. It bunches up in his fists, and you feel the glide of it as it rides up your thighs. 

Pulling back to survey your work, you grin up at him with spit slicked lips before swatting his hands away and sinking to your knees. Nosing at his thigh, you fumble with the clasp of his belt and undo his jeans hastily, tugging his pants and boxers down in one pull. One of your hands come up to push the hem of his white shirt upwards in silent direction, and obediently he bites the fabric. Unobstructed, his cock presses against his stomach and your smile feels filthy as you shuffle forward.

The tiles beneath your knees are cold and unforgiving, but you ignore them as you take him into your mouth. Above you, there’s a muffle whimper as you suckle on the head, drool gathering on your tongue as you close your lips around him messily. The pearl of spend settles on your tongue, salty and slightly bitter, and you relax your jaw to take more of him in. The muscles in his stomach contract and you hum, directing your eyes upward.

Jason stares down at you through lowered eyelids, lashes casting swooping shadows on his cheeks, breathing ragged. A flush settles over his face, a pink tint painted over his nose and cheeks that ruins any semblance of composure–he groans, eyes squeezing shut and straining open to gaze at you. His hand comes to settle on your cheek, cradling your head with trembling fingers. 

Your own hands part ways, one reaching to his mouth and the other sneaking beneath your parted thighs. Jason spits into your palm, shirt falling back down and you close your fingers around the rest of his cock, squeezing the length your mouth doesn’t take in. He takes the dampened fabric into his free hand, balling the hem against his chest.

“Shit, jus’ like that,” he gasps, fingers against your cheek pressing into the flesh and you hum, bobbing your head.

Between your legs, your underwear has grown slick, thin and flimsy and not meant for much more than pleasing the eye. You tug them to the side, immediately greeted by wet strings that coat your fingers. Your legs ache as you shift, pressing circles into your most sensitive parts as you sloppily mouth at Jason’s cock.

You can barely hear the party over the sound of your heartbeat, thundering in your ears, but a garbled noise reaches you. Jason chokes on a breath, head tipping back and stomach tightening visibly as he approaches his peak. With an amused hum, you pull your mouth off him, hand splaying across his thigh as his orgasm is cut off abruptly. 

He looks down at you, brows pinching confusedly. 

“You didn’t think it’d be that easy, did you?” you coo. You shake your head, tutting. “What kind of a lesson would that be, baby.”

Your fingers continue to move beneath your skirt and a noise gets caught in your throat. Jazon zeroes in on it, eyes cutting to your legs and groaning.

“Not fair,” he grumbles and you lean against his thigh, cheek pressing against the soft flesh.

“Mm…no I think this is pretty fair,” you murmur, kissing the skin. “I wasn’t the one chatting up some other girl.”

“Wasn’t chatting her up,” he denies, and you shift up again, reaching for his cock. Mouth softly at the head, you swipe your thumb across the slit and watch him shudder.

“No?” you question. He shakes his head.

“Was just talkin’.”

“So I should let you come, huh?” you mumble, taking him into your mouth once more and his hips stutter forward when you suck a little harder. 

“Fuck,” he grouses, breath hitching. “Sweetheart–please.”

You smile as best as you can with the weight of him pressing on your tongue, but don’t answer. Your legs have begun to tremble with the strain of supporting your body, knees aching terribly against the tile, but you take pleasure in watching Jason turn desperate. 

For a little while longer, you continue your ministrations to the sound of Jason’s breathless whispers above you–

“Just like that–fuck, you’re so good–”

One, drawn out, “Ugh, sweetheart.”

You rock your hips against your fingers, your own whimpers muffled and vibrating against his cock. His breaths steadily grow shallower, movements jerky under your mouth and hands until he’s loudly gasping, teetering on the edge of release. Immediately, your lips pop off him, hand falling to your side and he kicks his head back into the door, face crumpling.

You raise on shaky knees, taking the hand he offers you to lean against him for a moment before you pull him with you to the counter, slipping onto the marble. Jason steps between your legs, pushing you against the mirror and you feel a few items clatter to the floor, the sound of hard plastic against tile echoing. You’re uncaring, slipping your fingers into his mouth and using the other hand to guide his along your hips. 

Wordlessly, Jason tugs the hem of your skirt up, tongue soft and wet around your fingers. When you pull them from his mouth, he gives you a dippy grin, swooping down to kiss you messily.

“You think you deserve to cum?” you murmur into his mouth, and he hisses.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he presses, pleading. “Need it so bad.”

You reach between the both of you, circling your hand around his cock once more before guiding him to your entrance, head catching against your clit for a moment and sending a shudder through the both of you before it slips in. Jason sighs, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, angling your mouth to his ear.

“Prove it to me,” you say lowly, “that you deserve it.”

Like a switch has been flipped, he thrusts forward, setting a dizzying pace that makes it difficult for you to stay quiet. Sweat crowds at your temples as he stretches you out and fucks you, hips slapping against yours. 

Downstairs, the party rages on and you’re grateful for the noise when it becomes too hard to hide the whimpers Jason pulls from you, teeth digging into your bottom lip in a weak effort to muffle the cries that slip loose when he angles his hips just so, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine. Your toes curl in your shoes, legs hitched up around his waist. 

“‘S not enough is it,” you find yourself gasping, fingers digging into his back through his shirt. “Gotta–fuck–gotta mark you up so everybody knows you’re–oh–taken!” 

“So. Fuckin’. Jealous.” Jason times his thrusts with each word, sending you arching off the counter. 

“You knew that when you d-decided to date me,” you grit, a few tears slipping from your eyes when you close them. “Knew that when you put that necklace on.”

He grins, a wild thing in the flickering bathroom light, almost feral as he drags his teeth down the side of your neck. “Mm…got me there,” he mumbles into your skin.

You catch his hair in your hand, pulling him away to look at you. 

“Tell me who you belong to,” you say raggedly, “and I’ll let you come.”

His hips stutter and he slots his mouth against yours, the words coming in a rush. “Yours, baby, ‘m all yours,” he gasps. The slick sounds of your sex are loud in the bathroom, Jason’s fingers reaching between the both of you to circle your clit in time with his thrusts. 

You kiss him back, feeling your own thread rapidly unravel with every slap of his hips, growing sloppier as he becomes more desperate. Spit smears across your lips, his tongue licking into your mouth greedily. 

“Come for me, then.”

Jason manages to hold off until you break, sloppily fucking into you until you come with a broken moan, fingernails digging into his shoulder and likely ruining his shirt. He pulls out just as he finishes, coming all over your bare thighs, a wounded sound broken off in his throat. 

You stare dazedly at the streams of white as you come down from your high, cum slipping down your legs slowly while you regain your breath. When you look up, Jason looks just as disheveled, hair mussed and clothes wrinkled from both your hands and his. The bruises on his neck have begun to bloom already, dark marks of purple that litter his skin. 

“You’re ridiculous,” he huffs when he catches you eyeing them, reaching for some toilet paper. You sit on the counter and let him wipe you down, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Getting jealous over some random girl.”

“If I can’t have you…” you trail off in a hum and he rolls his eyes, swooping down to kiss you. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m yours, you freak,” he reminds you, and then catching sight of his reflection in the mirror behind you, he grimaces. He begins to complain, “Fuck, sweetheart, how the fuck ‘m I supposed to get out of here looking like this…look like I got mauled.”

You can only offer an innocent smile when he tugs a hand through his hair.

“You know I’m totally gonna get you back for this, right?”

Tugging down your skirt and fixing your top, you head for the door to unlock it. You look over your shoulder, halfway across the threshold.

“Kind of counting on it, handsome.”

The last thing you see before you slip outside is his slackened jaw.

this is so unedited because i was in a rush and i refuse to go through grammarly or any ai to check it. i'm sorry if there are any spelling errors etc i will hopefully come back to fix them but for now!! here is the 4th and second to last installment of kinktober!!!!

[jupitercomet]

Deep Six

summary - Jake Seresin never expected much. Born the second son to the United State's current first family, Jake watched opportunity after opportunity get passed on to his older brother - including protection from the draft. While Jake was busy serving in Vietnam, he had no idea he'd be coming home to an American public that suddenly adored him. With his father's second presidential campaign on the horizon, Jake's new found popularity has his family scrambling to keep up his "Golden Boy" appearance. Without a word of his own input, Jake returns home to an almost entirely fabricated life, a public that now loves him, and a fiancée he's never even met before.

warnings - 70s au, president's son au, talks of war, historical inaccuracies, war inaccuracies

word count - 3.2k

hi all :) I'm still on hiatus but I finished the first chapter faster than I thought I would and I got too excited so I had to post it haha. I hope you enjoy and I'll see y'all soon!

golden boy masterlist

𝐀 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞,

𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟓.

“Oh, look. The Seresins are on!”

The living room of a two story house on Canders Street is alight with the hustle and bustle of the bare feet of a three year old, a pair of pinched Mary Janes, and two exasperated loafers. 

Tilly Miller runs circles around the couch in nothing but her underwear, water droplets still clinging to her hair fresh from a bath. She’s going through a phase of wanting nothing to do with her pajamas and, after a morning of household chores and taking care of a cranky baby Tommy, Eleanor Miller simply didn’t have the energy to fight with her daughter on the subject.

Instead, Eleanor holds Tommy to her shoulder and burps him gently. Her apron is uncomfortably tight around her waist, but she doesn’t have the free hands to loosen the strings so she musters on and ignores it. Now, she stands in the middle of the living room, eyes glued to the television as Tilly weaves around her and Tommy blinks slowly against her dress. He’s been stubborn to nap—hence the crankiness—but the day finally seems to be weighing on him as his mother inadvertently rocks him.

Todd Miller stands at the opening of the living room, still in his work clothes, watching the circus in front of him as he sets down his briefcase. He can smell meatloaf coming from the kitchen and he’s sure the table is already set, all signs that now is finally the time that he can end his day with a warm, home cooked meal. Still he stays in the living room, taking off his jacket and folding it against the back of one of the arm chairs as he follows his wife’s gaze.

On the television, an all American family waves charmingly at the cameras. White-toothed smiles glisten and, even though it’s slightly windy, not one of them has a hair out of place. Todd can name each one as his eyes land on them—he’s sure everyone in America can. 

There’s John Seresin, tall and strong, arm wrapped loosely around his wife’s waist and a metal American flag pinned to his lapel. He’s waving at the crowd with a closed-mouth smile, a seriousness in his eye, but a swagger in the way he holds himself. Diana Seresin leans against her husband, smiling gently as she holds the hand of her youngest son James. Eleanor absolutely adores her—a first lady so put together and who handles everything with such grace. Eleanor often sees herself in Diana - a mother and a wife, the glue that holds her family together. On the screen, James is clinging to his mother shyly, avoiding eye contact with the cameras. He's the least outgoing of the family, often hiding behind skirts and pant legs. But, if anything, it only adds to the family’s charm. Everyone finds the young boy nothing but endearing because of it. Oppositely, John Seresin Jr. stands out the brightest, taller than his father and equally as put together. Everyone knows he’ll be running as soon as his father finishes his second term, he was practically born for it. In front of him, Nancy and Amy Seresin are waving like princesses, as poised as their mother when it comes to the flashing cameras and loud voices. Both girls seem to be the most excited of the family, but of course, given the circumstances, that’s to be expected.

From the living room of their two story house on Canders Street, Eleanor sighs wistfully. “I just think they’re so brave, going on like this without Jacob. They must be so relieved he’s finally home.”

Todd nods offhandedly, for the time being giving up on meatloaf and dodging his sprinting daughter to collapse onto the couch cushions. 

The war had been hard on everyone. The idea of the war itself was so controversial, dividing even neighbors and friends. And, as if that wasn’t enough, the draft made it so that if you weren’t arguing about Vietnam, you were praying with everything you had that it wasn’t your father or son, husband or brother that was being called to the front lines. It wasn’t hard to resent the government, seeing how little of them had to suffer while the common people gave up everything. 

But then Jacob Seresin got called to serve and, almost shockingly, he did. Suddenly there was something unifying between the American people and the first family - they all wanted the boys to come home and they all understood exactly why. Over time, Jacob Seresin became more of an idea than a person. He represented every father, son, husband, and brother and the announcement of his arrival home was felt all throughout the country.

“And did you hear that he’s getting married? Isn’t that just wonderful? I heard that he proposed to her right before he left as a promise that he’d come back home.” Eleanor’s rambling, talking mostly to herself as she burps Tommy absentmindedly. “I’m sure they’re all so excited to start planning the wedding. I think we need something good like that after everything.”

Todd grunts because that seems like a fine enough response.

“Oh, there she is! I think I see her! She…” Eleanor makes a face suddenly, letting out a frustrated breath. “Oh shoot, I always forget her name— But look at that ring on her finger, my goodness.”  Eleanor’s eyes dart around the television screen, taking in the somewhat nervous looking young woman who is trailing slightly in front of the first family, and a bright smile takes over her face. “I can’t believe we get to watch their reunion! Oh, I’m sure everyone in the country is watching right now…”

And, indeed, it seemed like everyone was.

Halfway across the country, Jake Seresin is surprised by how loud it seemed to be outside the car. From what he could see, there were crowds of people lined up along the street, all cheering and smiling. Flashes of light go off with every click of a camera and it seems like people are even throwing things into the street as if they were watching a parade. Jake can’t say he isn’t confused by all the festivities he’s returning to. For him, and the other young men returning with him, the whole thing was a somber affair. They had lost. Everyone knew that, didn’t they?

Jake didn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a cheering crowd. He reminds himself that, in some way, he asked for this. He was granted the option of a quiet return home via a flight straight to Washington—perks of being the president’s son. But Jake refused, choosing instead to return home with the men he fought alongside. It didn’t seem right to him to act like he was suddenly above them all, not after all they’d been through.

The sentiment only endeared him further to the American public—not that Jake had the faintest idea about any of that. 

He turns to Javy questioningly, the other man’s face echoing his expression in a muted sort of way. He’s tired, they all are, purple evident under his eyes as he slouches against Jake’s side. Javy Machado had always been handsome. His mother always said so, pinching his cheek sweetly as the women from church fawned over him. With cedar skin and mahogany eyes, Javy took away the breath of just about any girl who saw him. And he knew it too, always shooting them charming smiles and playful winks and sneaking them out after midnight in his Ford Mustang.

Now he returns gaunt, the color all but drained from his skin. If he lifts his shirt up, he can trace the outline of his ribs and his eyelids perpetually feel like they’re made of lead. Javy doesn’t think he’s very handsome anymore and he thinks that the days where he smiled at girls without a care in the world and took them out for joyrides in his Mustang are long gone.

The sturdy weight of Jake’s shoulder props Javy up as they both sit in the back of the car that’s taking them home. Home. It seems like such a foreign word, not quite believable to the young men as they drive through the crowd.

Neither of them looks fit for a homecoming. Their clothes hang loosely off their frames and they haven’t shaved. Jake’s hair is a mess, he knows that. He’d tried brushing it down just to say that there was an attempt, but it hardly helped. 

He can’t help but think of his mother, who would have never let him get to this state, let alone be seen in public in it. But Diana Seresin was nowhere to be found in Vietnam and so Jake sits in the back of a car with a chin full of stubble and pants that don’t fit him properly and wonders why there’s a crowd of people outside cheering for him.

“Is all this for us?” Javy finally voices what the two of them are thinking quietly. It comes out slightly croaked from lack of use and Javy clears his throat as soon as he finishes speaking.

Jake shrugs slowly. “I guess.”

The two peer again out the car windows, hesitance weighing heavy on them. It looks like they’re driving directly into a large crowd, cameras trained on them from almost every angle. On the sidewalk outside Jake’s side of the car, a little boy lights up when he sees him. He has to be no older than 8—he reminds Jake of what James looked like right before he left. 

His mother and sisters had managed to send a couple pictures to him—to keep up with James and everyone else, ones that Jake kept folded up in an old tin. On late nights, where he was covered with dirt and dried sweat, nights where sleep seemed like nothing more than an old fantasy, Jake would take out that old tin and unfold his pictures. They were slightly smudged from his dirty hands and some of the color had flaked away at the creases of the fold and the constant folding and unfolding had worn the paper down significantly, so Jake always handled them carefully so that they wouldn’t tear.

He would rub his thumb over the face of his younger brother and sister, look into the emerald green eyes of his mother and older sister.

On the floor of the Vietnam jungle, Jake whispered quietly to them about everything, from something funny Mickey had done the day before to how much he missed his mother’s pot roast. He asked James how baseball was going and Nancy if she’d finally broken up with that stupid Thompson boy who always made her cry. He talked to them until he had nothing left to say. Until all he could do was look up, and blink, and let out a breath.

And then he’d fold up those photos and put them back in their tin.

The boy in front of him now reminds him of those frozen pictures of his brother—who Jake is sure looks much older now—but, unlike those pictures, he moves, pointing at Jake and tugging on his mother’s jacket sleeve before waving excitedly. From inside the car, Jake lifts his hand and hesitantly waves back.

“You’d think we were the damn Beetles, man,” Javy scoffs lightly from the other side of the car.

Jake doesn’t respond, keeping his eyes trained on the little boy that reminds him of his brother until they’ve driven past him. More people are waving at him now and Jake feels like an idiot with his hand frozen in the air, too shocked to wave and too confused to put it down. Up ahead, he realizes that the cars in front of him are stopping, the crowd parting slightly to give them all room.

Jake is still confused why he’s here. He assumed someone would be waiting for him at the dock, where the other men were having their homecomings, but instead he and Javy were quickly ushered into the back of a car. No one told him where they were going and Jake didn’t ask, but had he known he was going to be paraded around town, he would have put up more of an argument.

The car slows to a stop and an electric charge seems to fill the air, bouncing from person to person as the cheers quiet to anticipated murmuring. Jake eyes Javy warily and the two remain still as a suit-clad body he can’t quite make out makes its way over to the car.

The door on Jake’s side opens and he squints at the abrupt influx of light, but a sudden whiff of a familiar spiced cologne has him straightening slightly. In a second, he locks eyes with the recognizable ones of the White House’s head of security. 

“Welcome home, kid.” The gritty voice greets him softly as he helps Jake out of the car.

Beside him, Javy is getting out of the car himself, but, this time, Jake chooses the familiarity over his pride, accepting the hand on his shoulder with a small smile. “Hey, Mav.”

The crowd erupts and Jake is startled by it, head darting to see if Javy is close by. He is and so Jake relaxes only slightly. Maverick’s body is somewhat comforting, leading the way for them both while also keeping onlookers at a distance. Javy seems almost mesmerized by it all, blinking in wonder at the people clapping and cheering. It’s almost a complete 180 from the reception they’d gotten when they first stepped foot on American soil. Some group of college students, the ones that were all rich enough to have morality, were waiting alongside families as some act of protest, holding up signs and booing at Jake and the men he’d been to hell and back with.

Jake knew the war was divisive—it was divisive even before he left—but he hadn’t been expecting such resentment. Now though, there didn’t seem to be a naysayer for miles. Jake’s sure it’s his father’s doing, he probably had the whole crowd hand picked to make for better media. In this case though, Jake’s okay with his father’s interference, it feels a lot better to be cheered.

From over Maverick’s shoulder, Jake can see his family in front of him, slotted together like glossy puzzle pieces. His mother’s eyes are glassy, unspilled tears catching against the light of the setting sun, and Amy looks like a horse about to take off on the Kentucky Derby track, mouth twitching with concealed excitement. Jake’s brows furrow slightly. Why aren’t they closer?

Javy’s already split off from him, spotting his older sister in the crowd, but, unlike Jake’s family, she seemed to be one of the first people they reached. Everyone’s looking at Jake expectantly and it’s clear Amy wants nothing more than to pounce on him like a lithe house cat, but they all seem to be waiting for something.

Jake turns his gaze back to the back of Maverick’s head, his lips forming the first syllable of his words. “Wh…” He stops suddenly, trailing off when Maverick stops suddenly and a woman peeks out from his frame.

You’re pretty, the kind of pretty that might have broken Jake’s neck when he tried to catch a second look. Under the golden sun, you seem almost angelic, teeth caught in your stained lips and eyes twinkling. In them, you seem to hold nothing but tenderness and you’re staring at him and Jake’s never been more confused because why are you staring at him? 

On white, clasped heels, you take a step forward, sucking in an almost undetectable shaky breath, but Jake catches it. Strangely, Maverick moves out of the way with a small sidestep, giving you full access to son of the president, Jacob Seresin.

To his left, Jake hears someone gasp and someone else almost seems to squeal. Jake has to blink a couple times because it feels like he’s stepped back into a world he’s never been in before. He always kind of knew that Vietnam would change him—though he could have never guessed how much—but he still assumed that America would be recognizable to him when he returned home. Now though? 

Now, crowds are cheering for him, and his family isn’t greeting him, and a beautiful woman is pulling him down by the fabric of his shirt to firmly plant her lips onto his.

Jake’s eyebrows jump in surprise and he freezes mildly as his eyes close instinctively. Despite that, your lips stay on his, almost as if you’re too afraid to pull away and face the ramifications of your actions. Of their own accord, Jake’s hands fall to your hips—as they so often did when he kissed pretty girls.

Jake can’t really remember the last time he kissed a girl. There had been one time in Hong Kong—all the guys in his squadron had a time in Hong Kong—but Jake’s ashamed to say that he doesn’t remember the whole thing all that well. He remembers she was soft and that, at the time, he’d had the specific thought of wanting to bury himself in her. But her name or the color of her dress? He doesn’t know.

You’re soft too, that tenderness in your eyes translates into the kiss, enveloping him in the kind of warmth that feels like a cozy sweater. Your hands travel up the fabric of his shirt until your arms are wrapping around his neck and your fingers are tangling in his hair that so desperately needs to be cut. He feels what feels like the band of a ring against his scalp, but it doesn’t cross Jake’s mind to pull away.

He focuses on the way you taste like strawberries and smell like roses. Everything about you is so delicate and, at the thought, he loosens his ironclad grip on your hips. The fabric of your skirt feels nice against his calloused palms and Jake can’t help but tilt his head, nose nudging into your cheek, to swallow the oxygen from your mouth. All around you, people are cheering loudly, cameras moving frantically to get a shot of you both. In the back of his mind, Jake can find that odd but, truly, he’s a little more focused on something else at the moment.

After a second longer, you pull away slowly, forcing air back into your lungs as you blink up at Jake through long lashes. Jake doesn’t really know what to say, still recovering from the shock of, not just the past minute, but the entire morning. He leaves his nose nestled against yours, blinking as his chest rises and falls noticeably.

You wet your lips, untangling your fingers from his hair to smooth down the fabric of his shirt. Once you’re satisfied, your manicured nails still on his chest and your lips brush against his as you speak, sending a shiver down his spine. “Welcome home,” you whisper.

The roaring crowd, his family, the scent of roses, and every last camera as his background, Jake blinks.

Welcome home, indeed.

join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! thank you for reading!

Jake taglist:

@dempy

@kmc1989

@s-u-t

@cottagecori

@avengersgirllorianna

@under-the-seas

@auroraacrane

@olivia21blunt

@dreamlandcreations

@blue-aconite

@averyhotchner

@sgt-barnesveins

@lillunna

@mayhemmanaged

@appledressing

@bradswolfe

@lynnevanss

@babyyy2020

@thekebs

@deliriousfangirl61

@callsign-cacti

@yoonbutterfly

@liliana234567

@uniquedreamlandcheesecake

@redbarn1995

@wishingwell-2

@justenoughmadness

@petemitchells

@hookslove1592

@pietrothemovie

@tiredqueen73

@linkpk88

@daddymack01

@smallishbook

@cheesecakeinahole

@berryjuicyy

@ohsolvingaddiction

@takemetooneverlanddd

@fangirling-4-ever

@sveetnn

@queerQueenLynn

@yuckosworld

@scoopsr0bin

@bobgasm

@sailor-aviator

@agentorange9595

@trickphotography2

@lunamoonbby

@valianttyrantexpert

@katiedid-3

@beezusinc

@loveofvernonslife

@katima-silline

@krispybearbouqeut

@shadeds-library

@rogersbarnesxx

@et-homephone

@fangirlvibez

@lilacwh0re

@moonlight-addisyn

@fangirlvoice

@alana4610

@sanfransolomitatm

@topnerd03

[mackjlee9]

König having the biggest crush on Male 6 he thinks Gaz and Reader are dating with how close they are (they are bestfriends). what Köng doesn't know is that reader has also has the biggest crush on him. (some angst/comfort because im a big baby when the ending is sad) 

I also try to come up with more requests for our Cod boys. They may not all be angst, tho.

I think I fucked up 🧍‍♂️

König x Male!Reader [Angst&Fluff]

[reader is shorter than könig -not specified-]

angst/comfort

Everyone present felt intimidated when they saw the huge male walking at the back of his team. He was big, in every sense of the word.

They all listened attentively to Price as he spoke, announcing that Task Force 141 was gonna be joining KorTac for an operation, a long-term mission, and even then, while they were listening, most of them were only starting at the male with a sniper hood covering his face, towering over pretty much everyone in the room. He looked scary to various recruits.

But poor König was nervous, and anxious, he was used to receiving scared looks at him for years, even after he joined the military, but the fear of being made fun of because of his height never left. His eyes quickly scanned the room, noticing the recruits staring at him with fear in their eyes, others were surprised at his sheer size, a few seemed impressed, and then, he locked eyes with a (h/c) haired male.

His (e/c) eyes observed him with such admiration shining in them that made him blush under his hood. The male seemed to love his big size, and for once, König didn't feel the need to make himself look smaller outside of the battlefield.

Price finished telling them about the details of the mission, and everyone noted that it might take from six months to a year to do it. Save to say, a lot of soldiers weren't looking forward to having to see König walking around every day. 141's captain let the KorTac members introduce themselves briefly, and after that, they were dismissed.

(M/n) was internally debating if he should or not, but before he could make up his mind, his feet were already taking him to the tall male, completely ignoring Ghost's voice as he called him.

Slowly approaching him, he realized that he had to look up a little bit more than he thought, making him even more impressed at his height. He made his presence known to avoid startling the male that looked like he was about to have a meltdown, fidgeting around and keeping his head down, avoiding eye contact.

"Hey..." König looked up abruptly, startling (M/n) a bit, but he smiled at him reassuringly, "I'm (M/n), nice to meet you."

König stared at the hand stretched in front of him and he lifted his trembling hand, slowly greeting the curious man that had been watching him previously.

"König," he muttered his name in a whisper, almost panicking as he realized he had already introduced himself a few minutes ago. Even so, (M/n) only smiled at him, his eyes becoming just a bit smaller, something about his smile was... calming.

Then, his eyes noticed how (M/n) seemed to be doubting his next words, and König felt that recurrent dread when someone was gonna tell him to stay away from them because he was scary. But nope, that didn't happen.

"Is it too rude if I ask you how tall you are?" (M/n) asked with hesitation, keeping a close eye on König to see his reaction.

König blinked a few times and slightly stuttered his response when he saw the same shine in (M/n)'s eyes, "I'm 6'10."

(M/n) gasped at that, and König swore he saw stars in his eyes, "That's so cool..." He heard him whisper, and again, he found himself blushing, feeling shy, and glancing away, "Oh! Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, König!"

His eyes opened wide, something about the way (M/n) said his name made his heart race, he could almost hear it pound in his ears, he began rambling in German because of how flustered he was, and (M/n) only looked at him even more impressed, and König ended up choking on his words when he realized how (M/n) had an almost lovestruck gaze.

"It's okay, sir..." He mumbled and (M/n) chuckled at that.

"You can just call me (M/n), or Night, nobody calls me sir," he smiled at the big Austrian man who seemed to have calmed down enough to smile down at the smaller male.

Of course, (M/n) didn't see it because of the hood covering his face, but he saw the way his eyes crinkled a light at the corners, and that was enough to let him know he was smiling.

//////

For the following months, (M/n) and König had gotten pretty close, and maybe even more than just close. Both of them had realized it.

The tingly feeling in their tummies and their hearts racing whenever they were close to each other. So yeah, their crush was obvious for everyone else, but not them, as usual, right?

(M/n)'s crush became obvious a few weeks after meeting, when he realized that he wasn't just impressed and mesmerized by his height, or fighting abilities, or any other physical quality of him. He was enchanted by his personality. König was so cute and cheerful when he warmed up to someone, and the wild behavior he showed when out on the field. It was truly enchanting.

Now König seemed to have started liking (M/n) since that spark in his eyes the first time his (e/c) eyes landed on his frame. He was a little scared, he's not fond of the memory of his crush and relationship, but he has witnessed (M/n)'s kind behavior toward him, and everyone else. Even so, König thought he was the one that got more attention from him.

Until he saw him with Gaz.

He had come by to ask (M/n) if he could help him with his sniper training when he saw him talking and laughing with Gaz. He wouldn't have thought much of it if it wasn't for the way they were looking at each other. He felt jealous, observing the scene with his fists clenched by his sides, releasing a quiet growl when he saw Gaz getting too close to (M/n), mumbling a curse in German as he left to head to his room.

Laying in bed, he stayed angry for a few moments, until that anger was overcome with sadness.

So... (M/n) was taken already, and he has no chance with him anymore.

//////

After that day, König has been avoiding physical contact with (M/n), he didn't want to make Gaz -or anyone- mad with his behavior towards him. (M/n) didn't like that, especially when the Austrian man would just outright ignore him for days.

It made him feel like König had figured out his feelings for him and found him disgusting. But instead of making assumptions, he cornered König one day to confront him.

"Why are you ignoring me all of the sudden, König?" His harsh tone of voice made König look away, taking a deep breath while he thought of the words he wanted to say.

But his response was unexpected, whispered so quietly (M/n) barely heard them.

"I don't want to upset your boyfriend," (M/n) only stared at him, confused, and König freaked out, "Not that I care you're dating a guy! I feel really happy for you actually!" He was speaking so fast right now, his accent was thickening from his sheer panic, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop the other night when you were with him-!"

His rambling stopped when (M/n) gripped his sniper hood and pulled him down closer to his height, and König was only able to look at him like a deer caught in headlights.

"What are you talking about, König?" He blinked at his question, confused now as well.

"Aren't you and Sergeant Garrick dating...?" He asked slowly, unsure of what he was even gonna say. The (h/c) haired male silently processed his words, and laughed, "(M/n)?" König's voice was weak, keeping his eyes on the male so close to his face.

"Kyle is my best friend, he trained me when I was accepted in the academy and we were transferred to 141 together, he helped me feel comfortable since day one, König," the relief that filled König's body made his legs weak, the idea of having a chance with (M/n) coming back with full force, "König?! You okay?"

He didn't even realize he had fallen to his knees.

König let out a laugh, sighing with relief, "I'm so happy you're not dating him, (M/n)..." He mumbled while looking up at him with tears in his eyes. Happy? (M/n) though to himself, "Scheiße, I'm so in love with you, (M/n), I was so heartbroken when I thought you were already taken," he continued rambling, not breaking eye contact with (M/n), and the still standing male couldn't resist.

(M/n) leaned down to König's height, and pulled his sniper hood up, thanking whatever reason he had to not be wearing his balaclava under it, and pressed their lips together. König gasped, his eyes opening wide, completely caught off guard, feeling like his heart was gonna burst out of his chest.

But when (M/n) realized König wasn't returning the kiss he backed off, kinda scared and completely forgetting how the Austrian had just confessed he loved him. The moment their kiss broke, (M/n) made eye contact with König's lovestruck eyes.

Slowly standing up, his hands held (M/n)'s face gently before leaning down to kiss him back, his arms wrapping around his shoulders while (M/n) placed his hands on König's hips, pulling him closer to him while wide smiles grew on their faces.

[highdefhoetry]

Behind the Blindfold, ch. 1 [Satoru Gojo x Reader]

tags: NSFW!!! tickle kink, female reader, vaginal fingering, oral sex (vaginal), hand kink, size kink, size difference, reader is short, enemies to lovers (kind of), dubcon (reader is resistant but only because she's denying feelings), light humiliation with verbal teasing, squirting, light/gentle domination, reader is tsundere with trust issues, gojo is kind of a fuck boy

summary: when you take a job exorcizing curses overseas, you find yourself struggling to resist the charms of a certain jujutsu sorcerer.

word count: 4,700

read on ao3 here!

You knew you would come to hate this man the moment you laid eyes on him.

You knew his type. Arrogant, cocky, full of hot air and self importance. The kind that used his charm as a weapon and manipulated his victims with sweet nothings and playful banter. You almost gasped when you first locked eyes with his big, beautiful baby blues. His bright smile enchanted you further, almost making you blush when you found yourself staring. And when he stared down at you from his massive height, sizing you up, trying to decide how he was going to consume you, you almost felt your resolve wear down as he focused all his attention onto you. 

Almost.

What made Gojo Satoru so dangerous was his self awareness, how he carried himself with such certainty knowing he would always emerge victorious, whether he was conquering a curse or conquering someone’s heart. If you had known the higher-ups in Tokyo had paired you with someone like this, you would have turned the plane around and gone back the way you came. To you, there was nothing more treacherous than a man who was both attractive and talented, especially when he was aware of it.

You couldn’t let yourself get close. Falling for him would mean certain annihilation. Set on self preservation, you vowed to keep him at a distance and surround yourself with walls too high for him to climb.

But as you soon learned, even the strongest resolves could be worn down with the right touch.

---

When you were introduced to your new partner, you almost quit on the spot. 

You had been summoned to Japan in the late fall, when curses tended to run rampant and even the special grade sorcerers had trouble keeping up with their attacks. That’s where you came in. The sorcerers in this country rarely requested backup from foreign countries, even their own allies, so when your clan assigned you to this job you knew things were serious. Hailing from the other side of the ocean, you arrived in Tokyo ready to earn your pay and leave. A job was a job, and nothing more.

But you didn’t anticipate having to work with a man like him.

“Satoru Gojo. The strongest jujutsu sorcerer of the modern era, at your service. And you are?”

His casual, overly familiar way of speaking set you off immediately. You hadn’t asked, yet he announced himself with a great deal of self-importance. The way he was reclining on the sofa, feet propped up on the wooden coffee table, barely giving you the time of day despite knowing you’d be working together closely for the time being really pissed you off. Especially because he hadn’t bothered to get briefed on anything. As if he was too important for such matters.

“The strongest, huh?” you said with arms crossed, unamused. “According to who?”

He turned his head towards you, but you couldn’t tell if he was actually looking at you or not since his eyes were hidden behind a dark blindfold. He stood up with a smirk, making his way to you slowly yet confidently. He stood in front of you, towering over your body at his massive height. He had to be at least six feet tall, maybe more. Having him leer at you like this made you feel two inches tall.

“According to me, of course.” 

You rolled your eyes, unfazed by his arrogance. 

“Hmm… are you really capable of handling special grade curses?” He looped around you, sizing you up. “You’re quite small for a sorcerer.”

You furrowed your brows in annoyance. He wasn’t wrong; you were short in stature, but that had nothing to do with your abilities. As a matter of fact, you were considered quite gifted in your own country, the best of the best in your clan. But the difference was that you were humble. The polar opposite of this annoying bastard.

You already couldn’t fucking stand him.

You weren’t going to take his bait, though. He was probably saying that to get a rise out of you, and you wouldn’t let him. You had to hold your ground now, or else your partnership would start off with an imbalanced dynamic.

“Size has nothing to do with ability. But I’m sure you know that already.”

He threw back his head and laughed.

“Haha! She’s a feisty one. I think I’m going to have a lot of fun with you.”

You rolled your eyes and made yourself scarce, not wanting to spend any more time with this aggravating man than you had to. You prayed this job would end quickly, so you could go home and forget about him. Your sanity depended on it.

---

To your dismay, the tension between you two steadily built up over the course of several weeks.

You were in Japan longer than anticipated, due to the sheer amount of curses that had spread throughout the city. It seemed like every day you were handling a new case, rushing around from place to place with fucking Gojo at your side. Gojo, who jumped at every opportunity to poke and tease you. Gojo, who always stood a little too close. Gojo, who seemed to double down when he sensed that you were at the limits of your patience. Gojo, who one day discovered a secret you had sworn not to share with anyone ever again, in the absolute worst way possible.

“(Y/N), don’t you ever smile?” he said on the way back to your living arrangements one evening. You’d told him you were heading back alone, but he insisted on following along with you after making some excuse about the rise in violent crime in Tokyo recently. Whatever. It was complete bullshit, just like every other fucking thing that came out of his mouth.

“I smile a lot when I’m not around you,” you spat back with venom.

“So cold, (Y/N). And I’ve been nothing but kind and welcoming to you this whole time.”

He moved in closer, “accidentally” brushing an arm against yours. You instinctively fluttered away.

“You’re being nice because you want something from me.”

He was quiet for a moment, but only a moment.

“Well, you’ve got a point,” he grinned, turning his face towards yours. Again, you couldn’t see his eyes, so you weren’t certain what lied beyond his half-hidden expression. “I do want something from you.”

“See? I told you. But you’re never going to get it.”

“Never say never. I can be very persuasive.”

“And I can be very stubborn,” you barked. “So let’s keep things surface level and just focus on the job.”

“All work and no play makes (Y/N) a dull gal.”

He slid closer again, until the two of you bumped shoulders. You felt your heart begin to race and tried to silence the steady beating. You had locked away those kinds of feelings long ago, and you weren’t about to release them now. No matter how much your body screamed for touch.

“Don’t you want to know what it is that I want from you?” He leaned down, his face a little too close to yours. He walked with so much confidence and self-assurance, even when he wasn’t not looking where he’s going. You couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Don’t care, didn’t ask.” you respond with callousness, walking a little faster. You’re almost at the apartment. Almost to freedom. 

“I’ll tell you anyway,” he said when you reached the front door, leaning against it before you could dig your keys out of your bag. “It’s you.”

You stared at him with mouth slightly agape, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“... What?”

His grin grew bigger. “You.”

Your brows knitted together as you spoke, still in somewhat of a daze. He couldn’t be serious. There was no way.

“What?”

“I’m speaking your language, am I not? Perhaps I should say it in a different way.”

He approached you slowly, until your back was against the wall and his hand rested beside your head. He closes the gap between you, nearly pressing his body against yours. You stare up at him, boring holes into the blindfold, wondering if he was looking back.

“Why the hell do you want me?”

“Why not?”

“You could have anyone else in the world. You don��t need me.”

“I could. But they’re boring. You’re not.”

You scoffed, steadily inching away. “Well, too bad. Because I don’t want you.”

“Is that so?”

He cornered you again, leaning over until you felt his breath on your face. It was cool and minty, fitting for a man like him. You tried to scowl harder, but it became more difficult the closer he got. You couldn't remember the last time someone else was this close to you. You wish you could forget how it feels.

“You know, I’d really like to see you smile at least once. You’re always so serious.”

His words scratched something in your brain that you had buried long ago, dragging it back to the surface to run rampant. Your already quickening heartbeat increased more, your breath hitched with anticipation. There was no way… you had to stop this before it got started, or else you’d be in a lot of trouble.

“Try being funnier then.”

His mischievous grin only grew bigger as his aura suddenly became more menacing. He held his fingers in the air, wiggling them threateningly in your direction as your stomach dropped to the ground.

“Orrr… I could try a more hands-on approach.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Oh, but I would.”

“Wait, no! Don’t-”

Before you could protest any further, you burst into laughter. He put his hands on your waist and started to softly scribble your sides, making you jerk around to try and get away from his hands. His touch was gentle, yet tortuous. You couldn't even try holding back your giggles; it felt way too ticklish. You yelled at him to stop, then crumpled over as your knees weakened.

“Ahh, she’s ticklish… I’ll have to remember this for later.”

His words were like fire to oil. You shrieked a little louder, squirmed around a little harder. Why did he have to go and say that?! You cursed yourself for allowing yourself to get into this position. Now he was going to figure you out.

Fortunately, he stopped after just a few seconds and laughed heartily.

“Ahahaha! (Y/N), you have a beautiful laugh! And your smile is dazzling. It’s a shame you don’t share it with the world more often.”

You didn’t have it in you to come up with a good comeback. You were still giggling lightly, arms wrapped around your body defensively in fear that he’d strike again. You felt your face heating up and fought the urge to hide it. That would only make you look flustered, and then he’d win. That long lost fuzzy feeling you had long forgotten had come back in full swing, and you noticed how you'd started rubbing your legs together as sudden desire filled your body…

You stared at him for a moment before suddenly rushing through the front door. You managed to get inside quickly enough that he didn't have a chance to stop you. You heard him say something as you slam the door behind you, but paid it no mind. 

You wouldn't let him get any closer. He had already seen too much.

---

Of course, Satoru Gojo would not fucking let it go.

It became the topic of conversation for the next few days, the one thing he droned on about no matter how many times you shot him down. It was both annoying and panic-inducing, but thankfully he hadn’t yet asked about that. While the two of you are waiting for the next assignment in the break room at the school, he brings it up again as you lay on the sofa pretending to be asleep. 

“So, are you finally gonna tell me what happened the other night, (Y/N)?” he crouches down to face level with you. “You ran away like a little frightened mouse and left me all alone in the cold night.”

“I said leave it alone!” you sigh, still not opening your eyes. Why couldn’t he just ignore it and let things get awkward between you two, like a normal person?

“I can tell something’s on your mind,” he says, circling around to your front. “Talk to me. I’m your partner, right? We should keep the lines of communication between us open.”

“Yeah, for work,” you reply. “This is personal, and I’d prefer to keep it that way.”

You expect him to respond with one of his silver-tongued lines, but instead he falls quiet. It’s unusual; you look over and notice that he’s watching you curiously, with the smallest hint of a smile. 

“Those walls of yours are pretty formidable, (Y/N). Doesn’t it get tiring, keeping them up all the time?”

You frown, nervous about where the conversation is leading. You debate getting off the sofa, but decide against it. He would just follow you if you tried to leave, anyway. He was annoying like that.

“Isn’t it tiring trying to wear someone down?”

He let out a chuckle. It was odd to you how laidback he was, despite how cold and off-putting you’d been from the start. As if nothing really got under his skin. You wondered if it was even possible to piss him off. 

Then he stands up, and you suddenly get very nervous.

“You’re right, (Y/N),” he says in a low, sultry baritone. “I’ve been too demure with you. I think you require a more aggressive approach.”

You immediately try to push yourself up, but he blocks your exit by placing his hands on the couch cushions behind you, trapping you on the sofa. 

“Whatever secrets you’re keeping will be mine. And if you refuse to play along, I have ways of making you talk.”

Ba-dump.

His words cause goosebumps to line your arms. You hid it as best as you could.

“I’m not playing your stupid little game. I’m not a prize to be won.”

You try to hold your ground, despite the odds stacked against you. You keep your eyes steady on him as he unties his blindfold, letting his silver locks fall over his face as those captivating blue eyes stare back at you. Once more, you let out a tiny gasp when you see them sparkling back at you. His grin gets bigger, his eyes get hungrier. 

“No, no. You’re much more than that, (Y/N).”

His face leans towards yours, his lips so close they’re practically brushing against your nose. 

“Why me? Why do you have to bother me?”

“Because you’ve captivated me. I can’t get enough of you. I know so much, yet so little. I’ve noticed your little mannerisms, experienced the depths of your fury, witnessed the brute force of your cursed technique, but still you remain a mystery to me.”

You realize that he’s taken your wrists in both hands, pressing them into the fabric of the sofa.

“I want to know everything. What makes you tick, what fuels you, what turns you on and sets you off.”

You feel his lips brush against your ear, and your entire body shudders.

“Won’t you open up to me, just a bit?”

Ba-dump.

Again, your heart feels like it’s jumped into your throat.

You stifle a squeal and try your best to keep quiet, but your breath gives you away. Your chest rises and falls sporadically, as if you’re on the run. Your mind races at top speed, seeking the proper words, until you can no longer keep it in and let the floodgates break through.

“...Make me.”

The break room clock ticks onwards as the seconds pass. The silence echoes through the room, suffocating your thoughts as the tension between you builds and builds. You watch as a sadistic smile creeps across Gojo’s face, and brace yourself when you feel his hands shift. He holds your wrists above your head while his free hand locks around on your ribs.

“Oh, I will. But I don’t think you’ll like my methods of interrogation. You seem to have forgotten that I know about your little secret weakness. You know… this one?”

He tickles your ribs, gently scritching the tips of his fingernails on the sides of your chest, and you immediately erupt into laughter. You try to twist your body away, but his hands are holding you firmly in place. All you can do is squirm a bit as he tickles down your sides, under your arms, back to your ribs, smiling like a maniac the entire time.

“I can’t believe how sensitive you are to this. And the best thing is, you can’t do a thing to stop me."

Ba-dump.

His verbal teases are the nail in the coffin. You squeal loudly and arch your back as he teases the back of your ribcage, digging there gently to torment you further. You hate every second, you love every second, you feel an amalgamation of emotions and desires swirl inside you. All while he’s taunting and teasing you endlessly.

“Look at you… such cute reactions. I can’t help but do it more. Tell me, where are your other ticklish spots? I’ll find out anyway, but I’ll give you a chance to confess first. Maybe I’ll go easy on you…” he pokes your sides and laughs when he sees you jump. “...Or maybe not.”

You couldn’t answer him anyway, the way you’re laughing and screaming. You can barely form words to beg him at this point. He’s tickling you so much, more than almost anyone ever has, and it’s driving you crazy and spurring you in ways you never imagined. 

“Stop! Stahahap…” you manage to spit out through fits of giggles. He slows down a bit, opting to stroke your sides and stomach for some reprieve.

“You’ve got to be one of the most ticklish people I’ve ever met,” he observes as his fingers trail across your shirt, making you giggle more. “Are you really this ticklish everywhere, or am I just that good at it?”

“F… fuck off …” you curse breathlessly. It makes him laugh.

“It’s going to be so much fun playing with you,” he leans in again, his whisper tickling your ear. “You better spill all your secrets. Sensitive little thing like you won’t last much longer.”

The little moment of mercy he’s given you has allowed you to take note of your body. Your thighs are pressed together, instinctively rubbing against themselves. You could’ve kicked him in the gut, or kneed him in the chest, yet here you were, practically giving him free rein of your body without a fight. You haven’t, but you feel like you’ve peed yourself, your underwear feeling wetter than usual. And you know exactly why.

“You can’t break me…” you spit out. 

“I can’t? But you’re already half-broken.”

His touches get more purposeful, his fingers apply a bit more pressure. He glides his hand upwards, resting it on the skin under your arms. One of your worst spots. You start to squirm and giggle nervously even though he hasn’t started.

“You know what I’m after. Confess, or I’ll keep going for the rest of the night.”

He spiders your underarms, and you practically explode. You desperately try to pull your arms down, but he presses them tighter, limiting your movement even more. You squeeze your eyes shut and hear yourself splurt out half-hearted begs, knowing they’d go ignored. Was he really going to keep tickling you like this until you surrendered? If it was anyone else, you’d assume no, but this was Satoru Gojo, and he was known for his relentlessness.

“Okay, okahahay! Stop already!”

“Well, (Y/N)? Have I ‘made you’?” he says playfully, finally letting up on his tickle attack. His smile is so innocent, as if he didn’t just spend the last hour tickling the shit out of you. You take time to catch your breath, noticing how warm your skin has become and feeling a bit self-conscious knowing that your hair is probably looking wild and unkempt.

That’s when he finally looks down.

There’s a small wet spot on the sofa, almost undetectable. But the eyes of Gojo see all. When he looks back at you, it takes everything in your power not to crumble.

“My, my… what do we have here.”

He presses his hand against your underwear, rubs his thumb on the fabric that covers your clit. The sensation makes you moan, loudly, and your body writhes in a different way than it did before. Your eyes meet his once again, and you already know in your heart what he’s about to ask.

“(Y/N).... Do you like being tickled?”

Ba-dump!

“I, um…” you wonder if it’d be best to keep quiet, lest you indict yourself. Although you know it’s already too late. 

“Aha! So this is what turns you on. I can’t believe I didn’t notice until now.”

With both hands now free to do what he pleases, he starts gliding his fingertips down your inner thighs, then back up and again. Down and up. Up and down. Gently, tenderly, like the touch of a lover’s. It’s both ticklish and arousing; you let out breathy moans in between soft giggles.

“Who would’ve thought you’d have such an odd kink? I’ll admit it, though, it is pretty hot seeing you writhe around like this while begging. I understand why you were so guarded and resistant now. It is a bit embarrassing, huh?”

“Shut up…” you say, your words fluttering through the air weightlessly.

He leans forward and plants two soft kisses on your inner thighs, one between each leg. You let out another moan, each kiss sending shockwaves through your skin. He raises his head and looks at you once more with those big, baby blues.

“But you like being embarrassed, too. Don’t you?”

You open your mouth to speak, but only a moan escapes.

He lowers himself once more, and you feel him grab the hem of your underwear and pull it to the side. Then, the feeling of his warm tongue licking your clit, placing wet and sloppy kisses all over your other set of lips. It’s only been a few seconds, but you’re already moaning and begging for more. You press yourself into him deeper, run your fingers through his hair before gently grabbing and pulling. You hear him moan lightly, and the feeling of it vibrates across your pussy, causing you to groan in pleasure. He observes this and vocalizes more, making growling and grunting sounds as his mouth goes to work. He eats you ravenously, taking note of your moans and reactions to each technique. He runs his hands up your ass until they reach your back, then pulls you closer, keeping his face buried in your pussy.

It’s not enough to bring you all the way, though, and he starts catching onto that after some time. He lays you down, raises his head to look at you again, maintaining eye contact as he runs his hands up your body, purposely tickling you a bit so he can see you laugh again. He’s above you now, staring deeply into your eyes with a look of mischief. But there’s something else there as well. Adoration? Or amusement? 

“You don’t need to be so shy anymore,” he croons, leaning down. “Doesn’t it feel nice to open up like this, heart to heart?”

You feel your brows furrow again, and look away for a moment as your heart goes to war with itself. It was nice, wasn’t it? That momentary pleasure, fleeting yet intoxicating. Nothing like this ever lasted long for you. Satoru Gojo was no different. Your expression must have troubled him deeply, because his smile quickly faded as you remained silent.

“...So what now? You’ve gotten what you wanted. Now you can add me to your list of conquests.”

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly confused by your words.

“Conquests?”

Then, after puzzling it over for a moment, the realization seems to dawn on him. He chuckles a bit, the smile returning to his face.

“I get it. You think I’m some kind of playboy.”

You watch him curiously as he leans closer, his lips almost touching yours. His hands rest comfortably on the tops of your knees, gently caressing them.

“If that’s what you’re worried about, you should have said so. I would have told you that you’re the only one I’m interested in right now.”

He kisses your cheek, then the other. His lips brush against your nose and then kiss your forehead. It’s so sweet, you almost want to cry. 

“You’re going to hurt me eventually,” you confess, the last of your walls coming down. “No matter how it goes, that’s always how it ends.”

“Does it have to be that way?” he brushes a few strands of hair off your face, smiling warmly. 

“That’s how it goes for me.”

He cups your cheeks, and your butterfly heart beats its wings against your chest.

“(Y/N)...”

He kisses you, and it tastes just as sweet and feels just as good as you imagined. You bring your hands up and grab the back of his neck with one, running your fingers through his hair with the other. You pull him closer with a bit of force, making him moan into the kiss as you start to gently bite and suck at the bottom lip. He returns the favor, with just as much passion and desire. He starts to press his body against yours, and you feel his erection pushing through his tight pants. You can’t get a good feel of it yet, but you imagine his dick must be as big as his ego. 

You purposely grind your hips upwards, humping your mound into his erection. He responds by pulling away and kissing down your jawline until he reaches your neck. You let out a small squeal - it’s another sensitive area, hyper ticklish like the rest. His soft kisses only serve to arouse you further. You giggle and moan, feeling his hands sliding your underwear down your legs and over your ankles. Giving him full access.

He tests your wetness and smirks when he feels it between his fingers. Slowly, slowly, he puts one finger inside you, and the sensation makes you yelp. He starts off slow, gliding in and out with ease, carefully curling his finger in search of that spongy spot inside. He finds it with little effort; in seconds you cry out as your body reacts instinctively. It feels kinda like you’re peeing and cumming at the same time. 

“So you’re a squirter too,” he grins victoriously, more power going to his head. Just what he needed. You collapse back on the sofa, your skin damp with sweat as you catch your breath.

“Fuck…” is all you can get out.

He chuckles in response, still thrusting his fingers into you. His hands are large and strong; you had taken note of them early on, dreaming of how they’d feel against your skin or pushed inside you. He started with one, then two, and now three of his fingers pump rhythmically as you moan and let out more cries of pleasure. His other hand sneaks under your dress, caresses the sensitive area under your breasts that he discovered earlier. The ticklish feeling, plus his steady thrusts, are sending you over the edge.

Sadly, the moment is interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall.

Shit!

Gojo lifts his head, and you take the chance to pull yourself up. His fingers slide out and he backs off, giving you room to yank your underwear back on and smooth down your hair. You’re not sure how your face looks, but you pray that your flushed, damp skin won’t give you away. Meanwhile, Satoru Gojo is as calm and collected as ever. As if he hadn’t spent the last few minutes fingering and eating the fuck out of you.

“Hey, (Y/N)...” Gojo starts to say something, but you cut him off.

“This never happened,” you hiss, right before the door swings open.

[tao-lay]

[wito-chan-bla-bla]

Nightmare

You had a terrible dream. A dream where you are married to Satoru Gojo, have two sons with him and are expecting another child. But it can't be real… r-right?!

~

You definitely remembered falling asleep at Shoko's bachelorette party. In front of you was a warm and welcoming sea, under you was a comfortable sunbed, to the right was a small table with drinks and the bride herself, who lazily sipped something from a tall colored glass. Utahime was yelling at the local wizards somewhere, because right in the middle of your vacation together, a huge curse came out of the water and tried to devour her drink! The young woman couldn't ask for this!

So, you remembered exactly how you ended up on the beach. Shoko unexpectedly announced her wedding, invited you and Utahime. Buying tickets, collecting things, taking a long flight, and confirming your hotel reservation... all of this is not interesting and not so important. Why? Well, because you were in an unknown apartment, and not on the beach!

You blinked around in surprise. Everything around looked expensive and rich, the designers obviously tried their best when designing this place. There were a few green plants around that clearly weren't going to bloom any time soon.

You find yourself in a hallway, facing an archway that leads to a large living room. From this angle, you could see a huge dark green sofa and a TV that you wouldn't be able to wrap your arms around... if you held it upright. It looks like someone really rich has lived and is living here.

But what does it have to do with you?

You looked around once more and were about to move on, but suddenly two voices merged into one, causing you to freeze and look in front of you in horror.

–Mama!

No, it's not that you didn't like children... not at all! The fact is that the children who ran to you looked like a complete copy of Satoru Gojo, better known as the sorcerer you can't stand!

Two boys of five or six years old, dressed in casual, light clothing, ran towards you with the big smiles you saw throughout your high school and for years afterward. One boy's eyes were covered by sunglasses, while the other wore ordinary, thin-rimmed glasses. The first one had an earring in his right ear with a gemstone the color of your eyes, the second one had it in his left ear.

While you were looking at them carefully, both children stopped in front of you, smiling and holding out their hands, wanting to be hugged.

You looked around at their snow-white fluffy hair, shining blue eyes, wide smiles that hid pranks, and felt disgusted. Who can be worse than Satoru Gojo? That's right, three Satoru Gojo! But even worse was the fact that these are Satoru Gojo's children, so they will still infuriate you even more than their father! No, even worse is the fact that these two rascals are calling you "mama" for some reason!

You wanted to push them away and get out of here, but your body was acting against your will. You suddenly crouched down and held out your arms to the boys, who jumped into your arms laughing. You wrapped your arms around their small bodies and leaned in to kiss each of them on the cheek. They responded by clutching your clothes with their little fingers and covering your face with their baby kisses.

It was... nice. The kids definitely had positive feelings for you, they loved you and weren't afraid to show it. You suddenly felt ashamed that you wanted to push them away rudely… But still! You've hugged them enough, it's time to stop! If these are the children of Satoru Gojo, then you must get out of here as soon as possible before their father comes and ruins everything!

You got up, but the boys were right behind you. They hung on to your feet, laughing and refusing to let go. You tried to throw them off, but the kids definitely took it as a game, because they clung to you more tightly!

Their laughter filled the long but narrow hallway. You let out a loud sigh and stood up straight, looking around. Where is the door to leave this hell? Yes, the children were incredibly cute, you really wanted to bite their cheeks as a joke, but you don't have time for this!

You turned sideways, catching sight of a heavy metal door that reeked of cursed energy, and were about to start moving in that direction when you froze, wincing in disgust. Oh, this sweet, not quite suitable for a man cologne you will know everywhere! And the voice! That voice was in your nightmares!

–Okay, let Mom go right now! Do you even know how much you weigh?!

–But Dad, you always hold us back easily! – the boy with the usual glasses craned his neck and peered over your leg. – Or are you saying that Mom is weak?!

–No, but I'm `the strongest' here, not her!

Great wizards of the past, you hate that grin. And that tone! It's like someone put together the words "arrogance, ""selfishness", "big ego," and "redwood self-esteem," put it in a blender, and made it out of the resulting person!

–However, you cried in pain when I squeezed your hand while giving birth, – your mouth moved against your will, but this time you didn't mind at all! The phrase is correct!

Oh, how nice to see Gojo deflate right away. He put the spoon in his mouth and began to lick it softly. Just now you've noticed that he wasn`t in his usual uniform. He was currently standing in the doorway leading to the kitchen, as far as you could see, and was wearing his usual black T-shirt, camouflage pants, and house slippers.

On top of all this was an apron with two dogs, very similar to the "pets" of one young sorcerer. Instead of a blindfold, Gojo wore the round sunglasses that you so wanted to hit when you were young (and still want to hit!), because this way you can break his favorite thing and still get hit in his eyes!

He still took out his spoon and started talking again. What a pity! He looks better and more solid when he is silent! 

–Okay, I admit defeat! But you really hurt my hand! And I couldn't even use Infinity because you were holding on tight to me!

–Did you cry, Dad? – the second child, wearing sunglasses, also poked out from behind your leg. – So you're imperfect somewhere?

–No! Your dad is perfect and the best! Otherwise, how did he get such wonderful sons, eh?

 Gojo leaned over and patted the boy's cheek. How dare he do what you wanted?! For this, the sorcerer deservedly received a blow on the head.

–Ouch!

–Don't forget that I'm their mother. They could very well have been born so talented thanks to me.

–Yes! Mom is the best! – the boy with the usual glasses confirmed.

–Yes, but your eyesight is still so-so, – Gojo nodded at his son.

–One more word and I won't go to the candy store!

–No! – the man dropped to his knees and pressed against your thigh, immediately starting to whimper and hug you tightly. How... disgusting! – Not again! Please, my dear, my only ray of light, my goddess, my beautiful wife, who is the best person for me, do not mock me so much! I know there's a good heart hidden under those breasts that can't let your husband suffer!

H-husband?! Was he kidding you?! You wouldn't marry him even if you were threatened!

–We also want sweets! – the "sunglasses" got a tighter grip on your leg. – Mom, you promised you'd buy us a cake!

–I want ice cream! – "glasses" also pressed into you. – I'll even brush my teeth as many times as you want!

Your face is the face of the most unhappy person on earth. Not only are you surrounded by three whiners, but there are also three Gojo whiners!

For some reason, your voice sounded nice and weak, rather than filled with hatred and annoyance. 

–Just let me go, you heavy ones. You're growing up so fast that I can't hold both of you at the same time.

–And I? So you can hold me?

– Satoru, - ugh! Ugh, ugh, ugh! Did you just call him by his first name?!. – to get you up, I need to summon an elephant... or Yuji-kun. I'm still afraid to imagine what you're feeding him, so that he can manage to drag the closet to the fifteenth floor without an elevator in one go.

–Because a talented teacher has talented students! Don't you think so?

–Satoru, – and here it is again! – the longer you hold me, the further away the sweet stuff is.

–But I love my wife so much! – he got up and kissed you on the lips. You almost grimaced at how disgusting it was. – My little angel, my little cinnamon roll, my siren!..

–Dad, ew, stop it! – "sunglasses" tugged at his father's pant leg. – And mother told you not to distract her!

–I'm not well liked in this family, m-m-m, it`s so sa-a-ad!..

 They don't like you anywhere! But you didn't shout it out, instead blowing the man a kiss. It's terrible!

–I'll be back soon, and you can kiss me as much as you want... if you finish making dinner by then, of course. Kids, – you said to the boys still holding on to your legs, – we're going now, before it gets hot.

The boys nodded and immediately let you go, racing to the main door, to your precious exit! However, before you could even take a step, Gojo hugged you from behind, leaned his body against you, and kissed the top of your head. You rolled your eyes, wanted to punch him in the jaw, and patted his big hands that were pressed against your stomach.

–Come back soon, my sweet cupcake. I'll be looking forward to seeing you.

–Me too, – why does your body keep lying?.. – Don't get bored here, okay?

–I'll be fighting the stew that's trying to come out of the pot, so I'll have more work to do.

You giggled, although like all Gojo phrases, it was stupid and unfunny, turned around, pressed your hand to the sorcerer's cheek (unfortunately, not because you slapped him), and kissed the man on the lips. He bloomed, left a few small kisses on your face, and ran off to the kitchen when his kids started yelling at him to hurry up and leave Mom alone.

You let out a sigh of relief as Gojo galloped off to the kitchen. Grabbing your bag from the nightstand in the hallway, you put on your sandals and hat and headed outside.

After a long elevator ride down and crossing a small room, you find yourself on a hot, unbearably hot street. Your body was immediately covered in sweat, you began to stink, but the children... they happily ran forward with their heads uncovered, competing to see who would reach the store faster.

You belatedly thought about giving them some caps... and then remembered that they were actually Gojo`s kids. Yes, they called you "mama," and that idiot sorcerer even dared to mention that you allegedly gave birth to his children, but you would never do such a thing! Plus, it's definitely a nightmare, because there's no way this could have happened in reality, so you don't have to worry about any boys!

And yet your body didn't think so.

–Raito, Kurai, – the unfamiliar names came easily from your lips, – did you forget to put on your caps again?!

The boys stopped and looked at you with the eyes of little puppies. You ordered them to come to you immediately. As soon as they approached, you took out colored caps with the image of some superheroes from your bag and put them on the children's heads. They straightened them, brushed the white bangs from their foreheads, and then sped away from you with even greater speed in a direction that seemed familiar to you.

You walked with your bag slung over your shoulder, following two loud kids who were competing to see who could run the longest on the curb. The sun was shining strongly, and you took out a bottle of cool water that came from somewhere along with your caps. After drinking a little, you offered it to the children, but they refused, continuing to run forward.

The kids led you to a small grocery store, where they ran in with loud cheers. You rolled your eyes and said hello to the middle-aged man behind the counter. While the sons of a man who really pisses you off were picking out something, you stopped by the cash register to talk to the owner of the store.

–You've forgotten something again, haven't you, Mrs. Gojo?

"Mrs. Gojo"... even sounds disgusting! How could you agree to accept this status? Yes, it's a nightmare, but any horror must have some limitations!

–With such children and a husband, you can forget anything. Even your own name. Raito, – the boy with the sunglasses stopped instantly and looked at you, – would you be so kind as to have some more milk?

The child smiled happily and ran to find the right package. It seems that at this age, buying groceries is perceived as a fun puzzle.

–I know I had little children myself once... speaking of which. Has your husband returned from his business trip yet?

 If my husband is Gojo, then he'd better stay there!

 –Yes, – you said, somewhat shyly. – He's cooking dinner for us right now.

–Are you going to tell him something, Mrs. Gojo?

–What... what are you talking about?

A middle-aged man leaned over the counter and leaned closer to you, beginning to whisper:

–I mean the pregnancy test. From the look on your face when you came here last time, it seems that everything went well for you. You ran away so fast as soon as you paid for your purchases that I didn't even have time to ask how you were doing.

–I-I... I was just in such a hurry! Just on this day, my husband arrived earlier from his business trip! – you laughed awkwardly, and you was hitting yourself on the head inside. How, how could I have given this idiot two children, and now I want to give birth to another one?! My genes shouldn't be anywhere near his! – And... yes, you're right, it went well. We're going to have a baby.

At that moment, you were about to faint. Well, what child?! Especially from Gojo! He's like a child himself! Yes, he has two sons, but you can be sure that if you leave him alone with them, one of them will surely die of hunger or from the stupid ideas that come to these white heads!

–Congratulations, Mrs. Gojo! – please don't. - It's nice to see a lot of children born in really loving families.

–In my husband's family, it is customary to give birth to many children. Satoru always complained that he was alone. I think he didn't have enough of a brother or sister to play with.

–Yes, you said that he had some pretty strict relatives on his father's side... oh, Kurai-kun, you shouldn't bring ice cream to the checkout at the very beginning. It can melt. Bring it back as soon as you've chosen everything.

–We've already chosen everything! – the boy with the glasses got up on his toes and tried to put a large colored bucket on the counter. You immediately went up to him and helped him. – Raito is already running with cake and milk!

A second later, the second child actually appeared from behind the tea shelves, carrying a bottle and a large plastic box. You went to it and picked up the groceries, checked the date everywhere, and only then started paying. Kurai tugged at your leg, asking you to let him pay himself, and you picked him up, giving him a bank card.

As you walked with the cake in your hands, you watched the children running ahead with milk and ice cream. They talked about school and the curses they'd cast out during school break. Your body smiled, you smiled with it. These kids... even though they looked exactly like Gojo, they were quite cute and innocent. You hoped that they would be brought up better than their father.

As soon as you went back up to the apartment, the wizard was right there. He greeted you with a loving, big hug, picked up the cake and carried it to the kitchen, listening with a big, silly smile as Ratio saw a big bug on the way. You began to change your shoes, not understanding why you are still in the apartment, where everything smelled like Gojo.

You put your bag back in its place and moved deeper into the apartment, entering a cool, dark bedroom lit only by natural light from the hallway. You went inside, closing the door behind you, and started changing into your home clothes.

You were standing with your back to the entrance to the room, so you froze in surprise when someone came in and closed the door behind them. Big arms wrapped around your half-naked body, soft hair tickled your neck. Then you started giggling as the man started kissing your neck.

Unapologetic! I have to stop him!..

 –I've missed you so much, – Gojo whispered, moving his lips to your shoulders. – I forgot you were so beautiful.

–Satoru, you always talk such nonsense…

–But I really love you, – he turns you around and you press your bare breasts against his T-shirt. – I've missed you and our home so much. I've had to sleep in a hotel and be sad without you and my little kids. You're the only ones who make me forget all my problems.

He pulled back slightly, but only to kiss you on the lips. You wanted to resist, and this time your body even agreed! You pushed Gojo away from you (not as rudely or aggressively as you would have liked) and gave him a weak smile.

–Later. Ratia and Kurai are waiting for us. And I have a surprise for all of you, so don't delay me.

–Oh, surprise! I love surprises! – he grinned broadly and gave you another kiss before starting to move towards the exit, taking one last look at your bare chest. – You look hotter than the hot springs, my sweet wife!

–You'll have to prove it tonight!

 Ugh. Just awful. You sighed, pressing your hand to your stomach, and reached for your home T-shirt.

–Hey, (Y/N)…

 What does he want? Why the hell did he come back after touching me and seeing me naked?!

 –(Y/N-N)!..

 Oh, shut up already! You're pissing me off, Satoru Gojo!

–(Y/N)!..

You turned around, only to see the door closed. Someone called your name again, and then you opened your eyes…

Only to see the familiar sea in front of her and Shoko's face as she chewed thoughtfully on a cigarette.

–You fell asleep for a long time. Is pregnancy really so tiring?

–Ah-h?.. What am I? Where am I?

–You are (Y/N), my friend, friend of the bride. We are located on our and especially your favorite beach in the entire resort. Anyway, (Y/N). Get up, Utahime is almost done yelling at the local wizards for not being able to keep the campers safe. If you keep lying around here, we'll miss the party!

–W-wait... what do you mean, 'my favorite beach'? Have I ever been here before?

–(Y/N), you didn't seem to be drinking... yes, you didn`t do it. We only came here because we had a great bachelorette party for you seven years ago. Of course, the place has changed a lot, but there is still excellent service!

–Uh, sorry, Shoko, I had such a weird dream that I... kind of fell out of reality. Can I have your cocktail? I think I need a drink…

–(Y/N), I'm a doctor. And I know that during pregnancy it is better not to drink. After all, you want to give birth to a healthy child without any consequences for yourself and for them, I am right? Besides, you yourself admitted that the alcoholic drinks here are disgusting, but excellent non-alcoholic cocktails.

–P... pregnant?! Me?!

–Yeah, I know this isn't the right time, but we planned this bachelorette party before you got pregnant, so all the questions aren't for me.

–Girls, I'm done! – Utahime ran up to you, wearing a swimsuit that strongly covers her body, with a small smile on her lips. – I'm ready to go. By the way, (Y/N), good morning. You slept well. How are you feeling?

–S-so... don't tell me... it wasn't a dream, a nightmare.

–What do you mean? – the young woman tilted her head slightly in your direction.

–About t-that... that I'm married to Satoru Gojo and have two children with him!

Utahime leaned over, patted you on the shoulder, and said sympathetically: 

–I know I still don't believe a woman like you fell for his spell, either. But at least now we can spend his money in a casino or alcohol, can't we?

–She's still not allowed to drink, – Shoko reminded her.

–That's why we have to buy alcohol here so that she can drink it as soon as she gives birth to the baby! Oh, I hope it won't be another Gojo! Please, – she raised her head to the sky, – at least let this child not look like a complete copy of his father!

–If it's a girl, then she can't be like Satoru for certain reasons.

–Shoko! You know what I mean!

The girl laughed and stood up, grabbing her drink and stretching. You looked at her with either a resigned or happy expression.

Your nightmare... wasn't a nightmare... at least not exactly what you originally imagined it to be.

–I'M MARRIED TO SATORU GOJO-O-O-O!..

–And it's worth a drink! – Shoko silently raised her glass and finished the rest of it.

You put your hand on your stomach and felt a familiar sensation. It wasn't a dream.

[calmcoldevening]

Pov: You loved vampire!slashers in your past life and now you met them again

TW: mention of blood, biting, vampire and e.t.c

Characters: Vincent Sinclair, Michael Myers, Hannibal Lecter

English is not my native language, so sorry about misspells. I hope you enjoy it ♡

Mieloji (Lithuanian) — Darling

You have just moved to a new small town away from the hustle and bustle of megacities. Surprisingly, you quickly found a place to live and settled into a small house, beautiful and cozy. After unpacking all the things, you decided to explore a new city a little. After all, you've been living here for quite a while, haven't you?

And now you are standing in front of a large mansion, made in the likeness of a certain Gothic style. The massive building was made in dark colors. Large windows with a pleasant view of a surprisingly well-kept garden with bushes of blood-red roses; a dark pointed roof with neat tiles; dark gray walls of the mansion with peeling paint in some places. In front of your face were massive doors made of dark oak with a neat intricate engraving on them. Something like snakes.

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage, and slowly open the door. It does not give in immediately, the old hinges creak disgustingly. And here you are inside. You can see a huge corridor with a large staircase directly opposite the entrance. The interior is made in black and red tones, in some places you can see elements of silver or gold. Huge paintings in gold frames hang on both walls of the lobby. They depict some important people with menacing faces, but you can't make out the text on the captions to the portraits. It's a language you don't know. A huge chandelier with red candles burning on it hangs on the ceiling. Even the very flame on them seems scarlet. And although it's only early autumn outside, it's strangely cool in the mansion. Almost grave cold.

Michael Myers

You notice that your kitten is behaving strangely. Perhaps you shouldn't have taken him to such a strange mansion. The black little animal begins to meow often and asks to get off your hands. You slowly put him on the floor, and he runs straight up the stairs to the second floor.

"Michael, be a good boy and come back!" You mumble in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

Your boy has never been so restless, on the contrary, he was usually even too calm. Even when you first found this baby, he was a quiet, albeit wayward cat. As if he understood you.

"Michael..."

You hear the cat meowing from one of the distant rooms and sigh in defeat. Slowly climbing up the burgundy trunk to the stairs, you hold on to the smooth black railing with your hand. When you reach the back room, you notice Michael sitting on a large velvet bed with a satisfied smile. It was a huge double bed with a gray canopy over it and a carved headboard. A truly aristocratic bed. You come closer, holding out your hands to the kitten.

"Come on, be a good boy, we need to go. We don't want to meet the owner of this place, do we?"

Finally, the cat climbs into your arms and you turn around to leave, but abruptly bump into something. He was a huge man. You back away in fear, landing on the bedspread. You just crashed into his chest...

Your eyes go up, examining the man with horror. He was at least six feet tall, menacing and cold as a statue. His dark curly hair fell in careless curls over his pale face. The man's face was expressionless, and his large copper eyes were bloodshot.

You reflexively hug the cat to you, trying to protect him, and you close your eyes. The man raises his hand and...

Nothing?

Oh.

His big cold palm with rough fingers gently touches your face, stroking your cheek. You slowly open your eyes, looking at the stranger in disbelief. But now his face wasn't so impassive. Behind all this cold facade there was a hint of... Happiness?

The man was standing there, stroking your face, as your kitten jumped to the floor, starting to rub against the man's leg. What a... He never recognized strangers, even hissed at them if someone got too close to you.

You look up at a man, and your eyes meet. Why is he silent?

"Y/ N..." he mutters faintly, and your heart starts beating wildly in your ears.

How does he know your name? A moment later, and the man gets on his knees, hugging you around the waist and putting his head on your lap. Even in this position, he was huge. He covers his red eyes, starting to slowly rub his face against your knees and emit a light purr. Just like a kitten...

"Missed you."

And again just one phrase. But it's enough to make your heart start to ache strangely in your chest. Your hands seem to move by themselves, burrowing into his unruly curls and massaging his tense skin. A strange feeling of deja vu appeared inside. As if it really was before...

Looking up, you don't find a kitten.

"Michael," you mutter softly, frowning, and notice that the man raised his head, looking at you with his puppy dog eyes. His name... Michael? Just like your kitten. You sigh softly and smile at him. The man... No, Michael, he smiles a little in response and you see little fangs peeking out from under his lips. A vampire... But it doesn't scare you. For the first time, nothing scares you. It's like you've finally come home.

Vincent Sinclair

It was a huge picturesque mansion where you wanted to stay longer. All this mysterious interior in the mystical light of blood candles caused a strange excitement in your stomach.

You slowly climb up to the second floor, looking at the paintings and leading your hand along the different railings. A truly blood-stirring place.

Walking to the second floor, your feet lead you to the first room you come across. A spacious room with dark curtains on the windows, inside there were several tables littered with papers and paraffin candles standing on them. But what caught your eye were the drawings. Oh, Father, it was a whole picture gallery! All the walls of the room were hung with old, slightly yellowed and frayed paper. And on each sheet there were different faces, as if alive. You came closer to examine them and... Your face was here. It was almost perfect. The accuracy with which your facial features and your hair were transferred, although they were somewhat longer in the portraits... Your smile is so bright and colorful. Your eyes... It was really you. But you've never worn such strange dresses... And where did your image come from here?

There was a thump behind you, as if something heavy had fallen to the floor. You turn around and freeze in place.

It was a man. He was dressed in unusual clothes for modernity, rather resembling the costumes of the Victorian era. His long hair fell over his broad shoulders, and his face was covered with a snow-white mask. Several heavy volumes of books lay on the floor in front of him. So that's what it fell...

It seems the man is hesitating. His ringed hands are shaking a little as he gathers his thoughts. It was as if he had seen a ghost. Or a goddess.

The stranger is slowly moving towards you, his dark hair flowing over his strong shoulders like silk ribbons. He slowly knelt down, gently hugging you with trembling hands. You feel this cold touch on your hot skin, but it seems almost... comforting. You look down at him, your hands almost reflexively reaching for his hair, gently running through the soft strands. And he shudders. A dull, barely audible whimper fills the room. The man presses closer to your body and mutters something indistinctly.

A simple "Vincent" flashes through your head, and you don't notice how you say it out loud. The man shudders, looking up at you, and your heart freezes. His blood-filled eyes look at you with unprecedented love and tenderness. You're back, they say.

Hannibal Lecter

"You're finally here, Mieloji."

It was a deep male voice that made your blood run cold in your veins. You slowly turned your head towards the stairs, noticing a tall man on it.

He was dressed in a dark suit with a starched white shirt peeking out from under his vest. His entire appearance radiated elegance and sophistication. Those carefully arranged hair on her head, shining in the bloody candlelight. This sweet, but at the same time dangerous, intoxicating snow-white smile with plump pink lips. And, oh, those blood-red eyes looking into the very depths of your trembling soul.

As he slowly descends towards you, you back away, pressing into the wall. The man reaches out to you with his pale hand with neatly sharpened nails, touching your cheek. Only now do you notice how much he towers over you. Like a predator over a prey.

"I had no hope of meeting you again, Mieloji," He whispers, leaning against your neck and looking at you with his burning eyes.

"S-Sorry... But I don't understand what you're talking about..." You mutter softly, feeling your knees slowly give way, "Maybe you're confusing me with someone..."

"Oh, no, dear. I recognize you from a thousand," He whispers with a predatory smile, baring a pair of sharp fangs, "I recognize you from a thousand, Y/N."

"How do you know my name?" Your voice is shaking. It seems like it was too much for you. You were scared.

"Shh, Mieloji. I didn't mean to scare you," His gaze softens for a moment as he runs his thumb over your trembling lip, "I'm Hannibal."

He probably expected this name to give you some hint of what's going on, but you just nervously pursed your lips. What a strange man he is... Although it was worth this name to fly off his plump lips, as your heart skipped a light beat. But this is not enough to believe his words. You're just scared...

"It seems you've really forgotten me, Mieloji," Hannibal murmured with a slight bitterness, looking into your beautiful eyes. Oh, he was drowning in their alluring depths every time, "I shouldn't have let you go then... But I cherished you too much to deprive you of the joys of mortal life."

The man wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you into his cold embrace. Your smaller body looked so perfect in his hands... The pleasant aroma of his body hits you in the nose, mixed with a slight taste of copper and sandalwood. At this moment you feel so calm, here in his arms. It's as if the whole world around you has ceased to exist, just you and him.

His cold hand slowly looks at your tense back, lightly sliding his nails on the fabric of your clothes. Hannibal remembered it all too well: every curve of your body, the scent of your hair and your gentle voice. It was definitely you, his beloved, who returned to him after centuries. He knew it right away, as soon as he noticed you at the gate through the window of the second floor.

"Mieloji, I've missed you so much... I thought I wouldn't see you again," he muttered, a hint of relief in his voice.

Oh, how you wanted to believe him. It all seemed like a pleasant dream. You just moved out of your old town and entered a mansion you didn't know, but this was the first time you really felt at home. You were in the right place.

You almost reflexively squeeze the fabric of his vest between your fingers, and the man lets out a light laugh. He pulls away, still holding you by the waist and burying his free hand in your hair. Hannibal tilts your head slightly to the side.

"Let me show you my love again," he whispers, and you feel a painful burning sensation in your neck.

His sharp fangs cut into your flesh, and his pink lips begin to slowly suck your skin. It was painful. But gradually this feeling was replaced by something like... pleasure?

"Let me help you remember everything, Mieloji."

[bloatedandalone04]

Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff and cheesy moments to the max

➪First things first; you guys started out as best friends.

➪You met in your preteen years and a friendship quickly blossomed, the two of you becoming inseparable. 

➪As you grew up and entered your late teens, that was when the romantic tension between you reached an all time high and he asked you out.

➪If you thought you were inseparable as friends? Oh boy. 

➪For starters, you’re a constant on his Instagram; his captions on his photos with you as cheesy as he could make them. 

➪Things like ‘Loml’, ‘The prettiest ever’, ‘Look how beautiful my girlfriend is’ and ‘Y/n/n looked so pretty today, I just had to share it with you all’ are just a few he’s already used.

➪He posts even more stories with you, whether that be the two of you out for lunch, a cute selfie or even just a picture he took of you with your knowledge.

➪You better believe he has your post notifications on and will be one of the first ten people to like your posts within seconds after you posted it.

➪And he’s the top commenter.

➪You two work out very often together, and it’s made known to the world as he would post a mirror selfie to his Instagram story; usually one where he’s flexing and looking damn near perfect, and you’re in the background completely caught off guard. 

➪He’s sweet like that.

➪His camera roll is full of random pictures and videos of you; many of which were taken without you having any clue of him doing so.

➪Any tiktok trend that floats around the internet, you better believe he’s making you film it with him.

➪Pet names are very much present in your relationship.

➪Baby, babe, pretty girl, sweetheart…..yes, he calls you ‘sweetheart’ sometimes, whether it be in a teasing tone or a casual one. 

➪“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart,” jokingly, “Hey, Jack, can you grab my bag for me?” “Of course, sweetheart,” casual. 

➪You often call him ‘bae’ and that’s proven whenever you post a picture or story of him, the caption simply reading ‘the bae’.

➪While it’s quite obvious that you two are obsessed with each other, you keep it pretty lowkey.

➪Dance parties occur often, the two of you singing together in very off key duets.

➪You spend more time outside the house than inside it, just because you like showing each other off.

➪Since this man is six fucking feet tall, he often stands behind you and pulls your hair into messy ponytails, just because he can.

➪His room is home to about ten scrunchies that have been scattered all over, your obsession with the hair accessory making him have a certain fondness for them.

➪Plus, he secretly loves when you leave your things at his house, and more importantly, in his room.

➪Friday night movie nights. Enough said.

➪Cuddling during said movie night.

➪Late night drives to fast food places; eating said fast food in the parking lot while blaring music, your seatbelts off and your legs resting over his thighs.

➪This man will buy you anything and everything you wanted; despite your constant pleas of asking him not to. He just can’t help it.

➪He loves to spoil you, clearly. 

➪Temple kisses are your love language. 

➪You often steal his shirts, but he has so many that he wouldn’t have even been able to notice the missing ones had you not put them on in front of him.

➪Safe to say he loves how you look in his clothing.

➪You’re his number one supporter and had been since day one. 

➪He’ll often ask you to be his ‘co-star’ and have you go over lines with him, asking if he nailed it or if he needs more practice. 

➪He never did as he’s a natural born performer.

➪Getting older resulted in him proposing to you at the young age of twenty two.

➪You, of course, say yes.

➪You were one of those couples who were satisfied with just being engaged, the rush of getting married right after not interesting either of you.

➪The engagement lasted about three and a half years before you finally tied the knot.

➪As soon as the honeymoon was over and you both turned your phones back on, he immediately edited his Instagram bio to ‘Proud husband of @ yourinstagram’

➪And you thought he couldn’t get any more cheesy.

➪Nonetheless, you edited your name and proudly displayed Y/n Y/l/n Champion.

[lwh-writing]

DC x DP Prompt: Maddie Kane

Disclaimer: I don't know a whole lot about the Kane family. This is mostly my own interpretation based on the wikis I hastily read.

Roderick and Betsy Kane had six children: Martha, Nathan, Philip, Jacob, Roderick Jr., and Madeline.

Now, Madeline was a surprise baby. Martha was already twenty-three and married to Thomas by the time her only sister was born, but that didn't stop her from showering the girl with love and affection. Thomas loved his little sister-in-law just as much, and the two practically raised her as their own. Under the undivided care and affection of Martha and Thomas, little Madeline grows up to be a willful, independent, free-thinking, intelligent girl who is very, very happy with her life at Wayne Manor.

Madeline and Martha's relationships with their brothers are... complicated, to say the least. Martha as a rule did not fully support the Kane Family's arms dealings, and so tried to distance herself (and subsequently Madeline) from them. The Kane boys didn't challenge this overmuch: they were, after all, hard military men and didn't have much interest in raising their sister who would surely just become another socialite married to one billionaire or another. (It's ironic, then, that Maddie would grow up to be the best weapons innovator the Kanes would ever produce, but such things happen.)

Madeline had just turned thirteen when Martha and Thomas had Bruce. Her little nephew was a long-awaited joy for the family, and she would sooner think of Bruce than the Kane boys when Maddie heard the word "brother".

This idea is only solidified when the Kanes, forced to acknowledge their sister after multiple high-society scandals, try to strong-arm her into attending a finishing school in England. (Maddie to this day does not regret hospitalizing Lionel Luthor. If he didn't want a broken fibula, then he shouldn't have gotten drunk at a Wayne Gala and tried to strike his son. The following press release was unfortunate, but the thank you card from Alexander was touching.) The Kanes are not successful in removing Madeline from Gotham, and after much back-and-forth, they give one final ultimatum: either go to England and return an "upstanding member of society," or Madeline would be officially cut off.

Madeline chooses the second option without much further thought, sure to tell her brothers to stuff it in as many ways as she can before she trashes the Kane Mansion for good measure.

Madeline, now almost exclusively going by "Maddie", thrives. She gets accepted into the University of Wisconsin, and so off she goes, with hugs and well-wishes from Martha, Thomas, and Bruce, who are staying in New Jersey.

Maddie is twenty-one when she gets the worst news of her life: Martha and Thomas are dead. She puts her studies on hold for a bit and flies back for the funeral, her research partner/best friend in the world/boyfriend Jack Fenton-Nightingale coming with her.

Not even a week after her sibling-parents are put in the ground, her brother Philip tries to swoop in and seize Wayne Industries for himself. Thankfully, though, Martha and Thomas's wills were very clear: Maddie is to manage the Waynes' estates until Bruce comes of age. So Maddie once more tells her brothers to fuck off, this time for good. Jack, muscled, glowering, and seven feet tall and still growing, makes good to stand silently in the background so the Kanes don't try to pull anything further.

As soon as she is able, Maddie sits Bruce down and they make arrangements. Maddie can't abandon her schooling forever, and Bruce's life has been upended enough; she doesn't want to make it worse by ripping him away from the only home he's ever known. So Maddie signs over custody to Alfred, and promises are made to visit every chance she gets.

Life moves on. Jack and Maddie get married and start Fenton Works. Bruce starts traveling abroad to "further his education of the world." Maddie and Jack have two kids. Jasmine Martha Fenton-Nightingale-Kane inherited the Kane signature fire-red hair, and Daniel James Fenton-Nightingale-Kane looks so much like Martha that it hurts. Bruce adopts a gaggle of children of his own. Bruce and Maddie like to send each other pictures to brag about their respective kids, and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes make sure to visit Gotham for at least one week every summer.

Maddie and Jack don't ask too many questions when Bruce hesitantly takes them aside and requests that they make a couple of custom-made, non-ghostly weapons for him. Of course they'd be happy to make him a few odds and ends every once in a while. Goodness knows how dangerous Gotham can be.

The Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes miss their summer trip for the first time ever when Danny comes to them and explains the whole "half-a-ghost-thing" and, well... Jack and Maddie spend the entire summer reeducating themselves about ghosts, working through years of biases, and ensuring that their son knows that they still love him of course we still love you, Danny, there isn't a thing in this world that could stop us from loving you. Dick Grayson is very understanding and assures them that Bruce wouldn't mind. (Dick is very happy to avoid telling Aunt Maddie and Uncle Jack about Bruce's death. Dick is even more happy when Tim finds proof that their dad was just lost in the timestream and not actually dead. That entire summer was very stressful for both sides of the family)

It isn't until Danny is seventeen and hesitantly makes contact with the Justice League that the Waynes learn about ghosts and the Fenton-Nightingale-Kanes learn about the vigilantism.

Maddie is so cross when she and the rest of the ghostly delegation walks into the Watchtower only to come face-to-face with her nephew/brother, and don't you try and deny that's you, Brucie, I have eyes. Who are you trying to fool, young man?

The rest of the Justice League has to awkwardly sit there as the Ghost King and his family have a full-on family reunion, with King Phantom taking the time to finally introduce his partners to his cousins, Princess Jasmine and Nightwing teaming up to try and talk Red Robin into dialing back on the caffeine intake, King Father Jack exchanging fudge recipes with Agent A, and Queen Mother Madeline chewing out Batman for being a reckless idiot and not telling her what he was using his gadgets for. ("If I knew that grappling hook would be actively used every night, I would have installed more safety features! We could've made it more durable! We would've had to put it through more rigorous testing before we deemed it field-ready!" "Why does that bother you now? Isn't your lab safety horrible?" "A private, indoor lab that less than ten people have access to is not the same as the streets of Gotham in every type of weather! Goddammit, Bruce, I swear--")

[bitchimasnake-sss]

iconic (random) quotes as the strawhat crew + shanks, ace!

luffy:

- if you didn't wanna get assimilated into my found family, you should have killed me when you had the fucking chance - i dont have sex cause it serves no narrative purpose to me - (flirting) you look so biteable today - the fact that i am constantly saying weird and unpleasant things is just part of my charm

zoro:

- he's probably texting so many girls sweet things. stand out. tell him you're gonna stab him. - got caught giving a fuck. embarrassing. - *clearly covered in blood and guts but trying to act normal* ok. maybe i did awaken my inner beast. so what. fuck u guys - dont care, didnt ask, plus my boobs jiggle when i walk

sanji:

- talking stage? baby just move in we can talk at home - hes NOT just some guy, hes my girlfriend - how is "pretty boy" an isult?? yes, i am the prettiest boy in town, call me a pretty boy - "what if your gf was wrong?" i'd reshape reality to make it right.

shanks:

- i knew i was gonna be a good daddy at the ripe age of fifteen - if i had a lame ass boyfriend i would hype him up so much. i'd make him wait outside as i go in first and and be like get ready here comes the most specialest boy ever if you dont cheer and clap for him ill blow this whole building up (talking about buggy) - bro your relationship with your friend is borderline homosexual and i think thats beautiful

ace:

- "i can fix him" good for you, i joined him in his insanity - (gripping the bathroom sink, knuckle turning white) but i stay silly :3 i stay silly :3 i stay silly :3 i sta - *gets caught pickpocketing cause i keep saying "yoink" out loud when i do it* - everyday i have to wake up and carry on being a little babygirl

nami:

- i am so happy for you and your ugly fucking boyfriend, im serious - if i had a boyfriend i'd trap him in a glass jar and shake him around - puts cocaine in my lip gloss so when she kisses me she thinks im god - you let a blonde man speak to you like that????

ussop:

-you can't "im just a little guy" out of this one cunt - i could never abuse substances, i love substances - you'd be amazed about the amount of times ive fucked around without finding one single thing

chopper:

- girls be like "i love animals!!" and hate themselves....... like you're an animal girl <3 peace on planet earht - if you look really closely i have this "fear meter" floating next to me that goes up whenever anything - being six feet tall seems excessive