#is definitely going to be 2+ years old at least before getting touched on in the games

[puhpandas]

Opinion on the TalesGames theory?

I think it's becoming increasingly clear that it's probably just all canon because of sotm being (at least right now with the current info we have) true to the books so like. I wasnt a big fan before of things outside of stuff like ggy where it's just very clearly about something in the games, but with how intertwined the mimic is with just normal tftp books I think it's safe to say its pretty much confirmed now lmao

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[apricotgojo]

✧.* we like short shorts! ✧.*

・❥・ Pairing: Toji/Reader ! NSFW ! MDNI !

・❥・ Word count: 3.6K

ׂ╰┈➤ summary: The only pair of wearable clothing he could find are his teeny-tweeny shorts from his teen years but no one’s gonna be up to see him, right?

ׂ╰┈➤ Tags: Toji is feral, unprotected sex, reader is a menace, cum!, cunnilingus, toji has a nice ass, facial <3, p in v, hair pulling.

A/N : i feel very filthy after writing this :) i couldn’t stop thinking about toji in lil short shorts tho so enjoy bbs!

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"shit."

It was one of those nights for Toji - Laundry night. Only the slight issue was that he realized that all his clothes had a hole in them. Every single piece of clothing he owned had some type of hole in it - be it big or small. The realization kicked in when he noticed that his left nut was hanging out of a hole in his boxers.

And that's why he was standing completely butt-naked, brows furrowed at his entire wardrobe splayed out on the floor. He had work in the morning - fuck, he had work in the morning and he didn't have a clean or decent piece of clothing to wear.

He rubs his palm across his mouth as he contemplates his entire existence. It was his fault and he knew it - All those times he shrugged when he saw the, once tiny, hole in his clothes, all those times he swore that he would buy new underwear at least and completely ignored them when he passed by them at a shop. Maybe this realization will finally be enough for him to get off his ass and go buy some decent clothes.

He knew somewhere in the pile splattered around him there were clothes that weren't in the worst state possible for him to go to work with - but were they clean? fuck no.

He let out a deep sigh - He needed to go down and wash his clothes. Even if it was 2 in the morning, he was gonna go insane if none of his clothes were remotely wearable. Thing is, what was he even going to wear to go down to the communal laundry room? He couldn't wear boxers without a part of his dick showing, all his shorts had big ass holes in them and- wait.

Something in the corner of the room catches Toji's eye. Were those his old basketball shorts? He makes his way towards the piece of clothing and crouches down to pick it up. After examining it, a sigh of relief escapes his lips - no fucking holes.

The last time he wore those basketball short was when he was 14 years old. He is now past his 30's. Those shorts he had on were no longer considered to be basketball shorts. Not with the way he thought the circulation from his thighs was about to get cut off. He didn't even bother looking in the mirror as he strode off with a bag full of his clothes.

Who was going to be up doing laundry at 2AM anyway?

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

Your face scrunched up as you gathered the cum stained bed sheets in your arms. At least one of you had a good time.

You needed to stop meeting guys on tinder and expecting mind-blowing sex. It just isn't possible. You haven't had a guy make you cum in weeks and you were embarrassed for each and every single one of them at this point. This night was the same as the others - guy comes over, guy is awkward, guy touches you, guy lasts five minutes, guy says "that was amazing babe!", guy leaves. And you were left alone at night with your trusty vibrator wand between your legs to compensate for what the other men lacked. Only tonight, the guy you fucked decided that he wanted to pull out - great, fantastic even! issue was that his jizz landed everywhere except your body. Your vibrator just had to wait a little longer because you definitely weren't sleeping with crusty cum on your sheets. - ew!

You made your way out of your apartment and downstairs, the cum sheets gathered in your arms. You doubted anyone would even be up at this time of the night so you didn't even think about getting decent before you left your apartment. All you were wearing was a piece of fabric that were barely considered as shorts, not with the way they rode up your thighs, showing half your ass cheeks in them and a tiny , tight top with no form of underwear whatsoever. All you needed to do was get go down, put the clothes in the washer, wait and-

holy. fucking. shit.

You stop dead in your tracks at the sight in front of you. A broad, bare, muscular back was facing you and so was a nice piece of ass in teeny-weeny, tight , red shorts. Your face flushed as you took in every detail of the mans backside - noticing how the shorts slightly rode up his built thighs, hugging every muscle and curve in this mans lower half. His ass looked so damn good that you kind of started feeling insecure. If he looked this good from the back, you were drooling at the thought of what he might look like from the front. The dark haired man had the palms of his hands resting on the washing machine,

"Work, god damn it!" He growled as he hit the side of the washing machine with a flat hand. You jumped at the sudden tone and bang! It put you out of the trance his body had you in and you decided to help him - and maybe get a good look at what he's packing from the front too.

"Hey, don't hit the-"

"FUCK!" He suddenly shouted - startled at the sudden sound of your voice, causing him to whip around to face you and put a hand on his heart as he leaned against the machine. "You almost gave me a fucking heart attack, holy shit!" His breathing was hitched and his chest was heaving up and down. If you didn't have any form of self control you would probably let your jaw drop because god DAMN - he was beyond hot. Hot couldn't even begin to describe him. He was crafted by the gods - he has a face that was made to be looked at and with a body to match. His upper body was delicious and you couldn't help to think about the taste that would linger on your tongue after you've licked every crevasse of him. Your brain was getting fuzzy and overloaded with thoughts as your eyes shamelessly scanned down his body, down to the happy trail leading to the hem of his shorts and, Fuck, is he also not wearing any underwear? You gulp - was he even aware that his shorts did absolutely nothing to hide the absolute length of him which you could see pressed against his thigh, on soft. Your head feels dizzy and heat rushes to your face and between your legs. You didn't know if it was the fact that you haven't been dicked down properly in what felt like light years or if it was the fact that he was so attractive that if your pussy could speak, she would be screaming for him right about now. Probably both. Suddenly, the bundled up sheets fall from your grasp and you swear under your breath, scrambling to get them.

Toji, although startled, couldn't help himself from checking you out as you bent down to grab your sheets while wearing such a skimpy little outfit. In fact, staring at you made his already tight shorts feel waayyy tighter. He felt his cheeks heat for a moment and he quickly snatched the bag he used for his clothes and put it in front of him in what he thought was a casual manner. "'M sorry for scaring you," you let out a nervous chuckle as you make your way to him with the sheets now in your arms again. "but hitting the washing machine like that isn't going to make it work"

He watched as you walk towards him and he cocked an eyebrow, "Yeah? I've been trying to get this piece of shit working for the past twenty minutes. I don't think anything is gonna make it work" You obviously didn't fail to notice the way he was trying to hide his dick from you and a smile tried to force its way on your lips. "You're probably doing it wrong"

He narrows his eyes at you, "you try and make it work then, doll-face." He challenges and your heart skips a beat at the nickname. Say less - you thought to yourself. You got down on your knees in front of him and the washing machine. Toji gulped - hard as he looked down at you. You looked so pretty looking up at him like that.

your face looked so fuckable. He didn't even try to stop the lewd thoughts from filling up his mind. He imagined how pretty you'd look as he smeared the tip of his cock against your lips. He imagined how good it would feel to have you choke, spit and cry on his cock. Oh yeah- he'd grab you by the hair and fuck that mouth of yours until you were sobbing. He wouldn't stop until he came down your th-

The washing machine suddenly starts whirring and he lets his mind pause for a moment.

You smirk up at him, "You had a sock stuck between the door."

"Oh," he scratches the back of his neck

You lock eyes with him for a moment and you swear you could see his cheeks turn a hint of pink.

He clears his throat and is the first one to break the eye contact. "Thanks, I guess" he clicks his tongue and averts his gaze to anywhere but your kissable lips.

You get up from the floor and dust your knees, giving him a shrug. "Anytime."

He really needed to stop thinking about you - right now. Or else he was going to bend you over and fuck you against this damn washing machine. His dick was basically throbbing in his pants and he knew that if he set down the bag there would definitely be a dark patch of pre-cum stained on his shorts.

You make your way to the other washing machine and hum to yourself. You felt smug. This poor man who was trying to do his laundry in peace was definitely hard as a rock and you noticed. You noticed that you made him nervous. You noticed that you made him weak. and you fucking wanted him inside you. So every next move you made now was calculated.

you knew he was watching from the corner of his eye and so you made sure to arch your back a little bit more than usual as you stuffed the washing machine with the sheets.

"fuck-" toji breathed under his breath as he caught a glimpse of your ass in those 'shorts'. Toji closes his eyes, his head tilting back. Behave- he told himself internally. He already got in trouble with the landlord once before for smoking a joint in the corridor and he was not ready to get in trouble again for waking up the entire block because of your screaming. No, he'll do his laundry, dry his clothes, go back to his apartment and have a nice wank to the thought of you. Yeah that's what- Oh fuck no.

He watches as you were struggling to fit the sheets in the machine , every little push you were making had those shorts rising higher and higher up your ass. He watched as it jiggled with every little push you made. Were you doing this on purpose? did you want to kill the man? wait - you were doing this on purpose.

After closing the door and waiting for the clothes to start spinning, you get up, and dust your hands. You didn't have anytime to think before you felt something hard hit your back. And something poke against your ass.

"I don't usually do shit like this but i can see it on your face that you want to get fucked by me," His hot breath tickles your ear and it send shivers down your spine. "Don't ya'?"

You gulp, your legs automatically pressing together at the sound of his low voice. "Bold of you to assume that," You suck in a sharp breath, not daring to look back at him. "and what if i do?" You could feel him smirk against your ear, your body tensing up and your back arching slightly against him.

"How could I refuse to give a pretty girl what she wants?"

Your head slowly turns to face him- sharp, sea-blue eyes piercing into yours. Your eyes glance down for a moment and holy shit. He was huge. Those shorts look like they were about to rip open with his length poking out like that, bunching up his shorts to reveal even more of his muscular thighs.

"Eye's up here, doll~" He purrs and your eyes shoot back to his.

He licks his lips, a deathly smirk curling on them right before he kisses you. Hard.

You two were like animals the moment your lips touched, every bit of self control completely lost as your hands got lost in his hair. His hands instantly grab your ass, squeezing it so hard that you moan against his lips. With one hoist, your legs secured themselves around his waist. Tongues and teeth were clashing in the heated kiss, and while he was holding you up by your ass, you shamelessly tried to grind against him for any type of friction. He bit your lower lip and tugged at it, his eyes opening as he set you down on top of the spinning washing machine. You both pulled away for a moment, taking in each others disheveled features. Those tiny shorts of his were going to be the death of you and you couldn't control yourself as your fingers flied to the hem of them, tugging. He grabbed your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks as he smirked down at you.

"You want this dick, pretty?" he whispers and his eyes trail down to the way you were rubbing your legs together as the washing machine vibrates beneath you. "Oh look at you~" he teases , his thumb sliding across your wet lips. "You must be so wet f'me." a grin spread across his face.

He lets go of your face and a strained whimper leaves your mouth as you watch him get down in front of you. The vibrations from the washing machine beneath you were leaving you wanting more.

His hands grab your knees and he slowly pulls your legs apart, the heat already radiating against his face. You weren't wearing any panties so the thin material of your shorts was sticking to your soaked cunt. He hums as his thumb caresses the wet piece of fabric, your hips jolting forward at his touch. He peppers light kisses along your thigh while he uses a finger to curl under the material and move it to the side - your dripping core fully exposed for him.

It was really a sight to see, watching as it throbbed at nothing but the vibrations and the little touch he gave you with his thumb. "hah- you don't even know my name and look at you - fucking soaked."

He looked so hot between your legs with that smug smirk as he looked up at you. You wanted to just stuff your pussy in his face already.

"What's your n-name?" You rasp out.

"Toji." He hums, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on your clit.

"Tojiiii~" You moan out, throwing your head back at the feeling of his thumb. and something in him snaps at the sound of his name leaving your lips.

"fuuuuck." He breathes before diving his face into your pussy.

A hand flies to your mouth as you tried not to scream. Oh ~ he knew how to use his tongue - really well. The free hand grabs onto his hair, pulling his face further into your throbbing cunt.

He was absolutely devouring you, moaning into your pussy as he licks up your sweet juices. "You taste soooo fucking good." His voice was muffled and his lips wrap around the sensitive nub, harshly sucking at it. You yelp out in surprise, and your thighs tighten around his head. Finally- a man who knew where the clit was. You knew you weren't gonna last, not with the vibrations, not with this mans tongue and as if it couldn't get any worse, he decides to put two thick and long digits inside of you, pumping in and out at an unforgiving pace. "shit- fuck- hgnh~" drool was spilling from the corner of your lips as your peak was approaching, your mind so hazy that all you could mumble between moans was his name and how you're about to cum. And then you do - you finally fucking cum. and it was really fucking good. your hips rolling against his face, your gummy walls throbbing around his fingers and your wetness dripping down his chin and neck.

You were twitching against him, his tongue still lapping at your overstimulated clit. He pulls his head out from between your thighs, finally catching his breath. He looks up at you, breathing heavily with a smile.

"Felt good?" He asks before wiping his mouth with his arm - getting up and towering over you again. He didn't even let you process a response because he's already grabbing you by your waist and flipping you over. Before you knew it you were bent over against the washing machine. "This is gonna feel even better~" he whispers in your ear and nibbles at your lobe while kneading your ass.

You gasp as you feel his tip rub against your puffy, dripping folds. "Gonna stretch this pussy out, yeah?" he coos, "best dick you're gonna get in your fucking life." And you did not protest at that because both you and him knew that he was absolutely fucking right.

The head of his cock pushes past your folds, agonizingly slow. "Gah-fuck, you're too tight baby-hah" He breathes in your ear.

It took everything in you for you not to scream as he filled you up. This was the biggest dick you've ever taken, by a fucking longshot. "Goooood girll, ease into it now~"

He thrusts into you once. Twice. Three times. and then you were completely filled by him. "T-Toji~ mmhh~ s-s'too big~" You whimper out, tears welling up in your eyes. "mmmm~ take it like a good girl f'me" He was consumed by your pussy, he could barely think about anything else other than ramming himself into your tight cunt. At first he pushed in and out slowly, just to test the waters with you and then when he heard you moan and push yourself back on his dick, he lost it and just like that, he was finally ramming into you.

You grip on the sides of the washing machine for support. "yesyesyesyesyesyesyes" You breath out with each thrust Your eyes roll to the back of your head and he grips you by your hair. The room fills with the most lewd noises, from the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass, to the sound of your cunt squelching with every thrust, his moans and growls and filthy little words about how fucking good you're taking it to the whimpers and cries of his name leaving your lips. Your hand reaches down between your legs, struggling, trying to rub at your sensitive clit as you feel the head of his cock press up against that sweet-sweet spot inside of you. Your pussy was definitely going to remember him, every fucking crevasse and vein of his throbbing cock. - It was already imprinted in your mind.

"Gonna....cum..." You pant out, eyes shutting and Toji grabs both your arms, pulling them behind your back so he could fuck deeper into you. Faster into you. "FUCK TOJI!" You scream out at the sudden change of angle and pace.

"Cum on my cock baby- fucking cum on it" He spits through gritted teeth.

He feels your walls tighten around his cock and he throws his head back, "Shiiiiiiittttt" He moans out.

And you cum again, twice as hard as the first time. You were babbling cusses and moaning as he kept fucking you, riding out your orgasm. Your legs feel like jell-o but Toji keeps your body against his for support as he keeps thrusting inside of you.

"Let me cum on that pretty face~" He whispers, kissing down your spine. He pulls out of you, his cock throbbing, ready to fucking explode.

You get down on your knees and he takes a second to admire how devastating you look when youre fucked out like that. Cheeks red, eyes watery and tired, lips red and bitten. He wanted to paint your face with his cum.

"Give it to me, Toji~" You whisper in such a fucked out manner that it almost drove him over the edge then and there.

And then you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out and that sight alone had him moaning loudly.

"fuuck yessss"

He barely had time to grab his dick before his tip began throbbing, shooting long spurts of white onto your tongue and all over your face. Exactly what he wanted.

You watch him as he panted, his head thrown back and you smiled up at him, licking your cum covered lips.

Just the sight of you covered in his cum was enough to make his cock twitch again. You looked so beautiful. Unfortunately, round two had to wait because the washing machine let out a little melody to alert that it was ready.

Toji ran a hand through his hair, "Let me get you cleaned up, gimme a moment." He mumbled and picked up his shorts from the floor.

He put them on again. You snorted, causing him to whip his head back in your direction.

"What's so funny?"

"You have a hole in your shorts."

"FUCK!"

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

[theodoresgirl]

I see you like dabi... Can you write something with dad dabi??

Dad!Dabi Headcanons

a/n: dabi as a dad, Personally a favorite. Never actually attempt to write it so here we go. lmk if you want more<33

warning: Some 'canon' parts and fan-canon. my personal opinion, delulu.

— —

★ — Dabi’s the kind of guy to first react negatively towards you saying you’re pregnant. He’s never imagined being a dad, His own pushed him down when he gained a “better” son. It would take some reassurance, Like telling him you believed he would be a great dad, and that he was nothing like his father. He would slowly be open to the idea of being part of the kids life.

★ — Dabi’s by your side whenever he can, between the LOV and planing his pay back to his own dad.

★ — Dabi’s holding your hair when you get sick, He’s bringing you food late at night on his recruitment patrols.

★ — He’ll even bust out his old hair braiding skills (he might be a little rusty at first) to keep it out of your face during hot flashes. he learned braiding with fuyumi’s hair when they were younger.

★ — Dabi keeps you and the baby a complete secret, To make sure he knew that if something happened to him. You and the baby wouldn’t be targeted

★ — Dabi would be terrified to touch your stomach, he isn’t normally a feel bad kind of guy but he didn't wanna accidentally hurt you or the baby. It takes some time before he can rest his hand on your belly or lay his head on it.

★ — He tries to attend at least a few doctor appointments, but he misses the birth because of his identity. He'd get really upset ith

★ — Some time after you have the baby, you and him would be sitting on the couch, The baby was sleeping and he lets slip he wants another one. “to give it a friend” lame excuse but hey, It works. He wouldn’t ask for another one but if you asked he wouldn’t say no.

★ — He first sees his daughter when you come home. He’s right there, He heard you talking outside the door and getting your keys.

★ — He was sitting in a chair at the island counter. Safe to say he’s been there for 3 hours waiting.

★ — For awhile he just sits on the couch while you hold her. He’d be scared, again. He didn’t wanna harm her.

★ — She looked exactly like him at her age. Red hair, teal eyes, a big smile.

★ — Sometimes you’d wake to go the bathroom and see a empty place next to to, and noise in the nursery. Dabi would be sitting in a rocking chair mumbling about who knows what while his little girl just slept on his chest. He’d never admit it though, if you brought it up he’d say you were really tired and hallucinated it. (you didn’t)

★ — His phone lock screen was of course his motorcycle, but his home-screen was a picture of you passed out with baby girl.

★ — Second pregnancy around he would probably be outed as toya, Depending on the outcome (we are gonna go the happy delulu root) he'd have contact with his sister, maybe even natsuo. You drag him out to lunch with his sister.

★ — He'd always have his arms around you, around your waist, on your hips and stomach.

★ — He'd definitely rubs the fact his family loves him to his dad, no doubt. He'd brag about how his daughter is always following him around, and his future partner is perfect and loves him for him.

★ — Dabi also definitely got your daughter to say dada first, Even though it took 2 years she finally said her first word. it would be when you went out with his siblings. He sends you a video of her sitting on the couch in one of those Ariel princess dresses. She clear as day she says 'dada'. He teases you about it a lot.

★ — At first you'll have to force him, but after awhile the only movies that are on the tv at all times was Disney & barbie. (His favorites are Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus & Robin hood)

★ — Dabi would lay down on the floor while his daughter played with his hair and feels his scars.

★ — Dabi also by now stopped using his quirk, which over time slowly his scars began to heal.

★ — He was present for your 2nd child, your sons birth. To say he teared up is a understatement. He stood by your side the whole time, he wasn't willing to miss it this time.

★ — Your son looked again, was a mini dabi, but white hair.

★ — When your daughters quirk forms its just like dabis, She ran into you and his room one morning giggling excitedly about having a cool quirk like her daddy. His face was pure fear, could her skin handle the heat? or was it like his?

★ — Dabi would watch when she'd use her quirk, to make sure she didn't get hurt, and she never did. That made dabi relieved.

[barbarianbookhoe]

hiiii! request for kaz x reader but they have a toddler together

Aww, I love toddlers! I have a cousin who's almost 3, and I play so much with him, ah (I swear he never sleeps)

A/N: I kinda imagine Kaz as a boydad (not really sure) (but if requested I can write one where he has a daughter) Kid's age isn't specified, around 2-3 years old. Btw, I tried a gender neutral reader, but it wasn't as good as I hoped, so this is a fem!reader x Kaz. Sorry for grammar mistakes!

TW: touch aversion, loss of brother, miscarriage

(I swear it's a fluff story, we just need to get through the dark ages first)

It was a faint noise at first, which Kaz decided to ignore, despite his instincts. It was coming from one of the streets below. Another noise came, this time louder, that was definitely coming from the room next door. He still tried to ignore it.

The third time around Kaz didn't bother pretending that the crying noise would resolve itself, so he sat up in bed and reached over to his side. He found it empty, which made him get out of bed and walk over to the entrance of the room attached to the bedroom.

But he came to a stop when he noticed the crying toddler from mere seconds ago, now soundlessly sleeping in your arms, as you cuddled him to your chest, lightly rocking yourselves in the rocking chair.

"It's okay, I got him. Go back to sleep," you whispered to him, not even looking up from your son. Kaz let out a quiet scoff. "And have conversation with the ceiling? If we're both already awake, then I'm staying." He said and sat down on the windowsill next to you.

"Your grumpiness in the morning won't be my fault," you told him on a sing song voice, not wanting to wake your child. He just rolled his eyes as he caressed his son's head. "You hate the mornings too, wife."

"At least I don't have the temper of a wet cat, husband."

Husband. Kaz took a moment to take the word in. Even after years of being married, he still couldn't believe it when you called him that. Calling you his wife came easily to him, as if his well protected heart knew who you were, long before his mind got drowned in you.

You never would've guessed you'd be holding his hand, let alone be in the same bed with him. It took the two of you months to get this far. Ever since Kaz told you that he wants you to stay with him, in his own way of course, he had been trying to get past his aversion to touch. He never told you, worrying that you wouldn't see him the same, so he did it in a way that wasn't easily noticeable.

It started with the proximity. Day by day, he sat or stood closer to you and the Crows, getting used to the possibility of accidental touches. Then came touching your arm and back, making it seem as if he's just guiding you somewhere. He did that a lot as a protective gesture.

After the second month of these little things, Kaz got fed up with himself one night, when you got stabbed on your leg and he couldn't help treating your wound. So, out of pure annoyment with himself, when you came into his office with some documents he asked for, he grabbed your waist and held you close to him. Your bodies weren't touching yet, but it was closer than you've ever been to him.

Both of you just stood there, not moving an inch, getting used to the feeling of Kaz holding you, despite the multiple layers of clothing. It was like a breath of fresh air.

So, with months of carefully calculated work, Kaz was able to sleep in the same bed with you, holding your hand, without a knot in his stomach, or phantom hands trying to pull him under. He only needed one look at your calm, content face and he felt like he could breathe again.

"This is what I've been saying! I shouldn't have even though about it!" Kaz said sternly, more to himself than you, as you sat on the edge of his bed, clutching his shirt to your chest.

"Kaz, we both knew this wasn't going to be easy! But the fact that you've been making progress for more than 3 years now, means that you care enough to try," you told him as his hands went through his hair. "You care enough about me, about us. And that means a lot to me."

"Clearly not enough, if I cannot even do this..." he whispers to himself, but you hear him and look at him with anger. "How many fucking times do I have to tell you, that I don't need you to do this? That I'm not demanding this from you?"

"You know you could make it easier," Kaz finally looks at you, frustration written on his face. "You could go to a brothel and get it done, without watching your partner lose his mind and cry in a corner."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, the disbelief clear on your face as you stare at him. "Oh, you're serious? Damn it Kaz, I did not stay in Ketterdam because it was the easy way! I did not stay to watch you punish yourself for everything!" At your raised voice he looked at you as if he couldn't decide if he heard you correctly.

"Do not look at me like that, you know what I'm talking about! I'd like to remind you, that you were the one who said progress takes time, and that it's worth the waiting. That I am worth the waiting! So please Kaz, don't beat yourself up over this," you say the last words on a soft voice, that Kaz swears could lull him to a dream.

Kaz curls his hands into fists, but lets them relax as he sats down on the edge of the bed next to you. You look at him patiently, waiting for him to reach out to you. Despite the feather light touch he places on your cheek, his cold blue eyes seem to hold a certain heat to them.

"I'm blaming myself, because I can't touch you, or hold you, the way I want to," he whispers, his voice raspy from his emotions. "The way a woman like you should be held," he practically mouths the words onto your shoulder, slowly making his way to your neck.

"I would give all my money to treat you like you should be," he places a kiss on your cheek and pulls away from you, and you keep yourself glued to your spot, respecting his boundaries. Though, a voice inside you tries to convince you to pull him back.

You don't hide your feelings from him, instead you look at him with a heated gaze, and let him decide if he wants to continue or not. You could do it tonight, you want to do it, Saints you've been wanting to for a painfully long time, but you will never pressure him to make the first step. It won't lead to anything good if you push him, so you just keep sitting there, patiently staring at his eyes.

And when he nods, just a slight tilt of his head meaning he's ready, you reach out to take his face in your hand.

"Kaz?" You whisper and he hums in response. "I will give you all the kruge in the world, if you have tonight alone with me."

"You're bribing me into my own bed? I didn't expect this from you, Y/N," he says as he slowly removes the shirt you're still holding to your chest. You move up on the bed as Kaz tovers over you, his hands on each side of your head.

"Anything to get what I want," you whisper as you glance down to his lips and back to his eyes. Kaz slowly leans down to your lips, not wanting to rush himself. "Oh? And what do you want, darling?"

You don't even have to think before the word slips off your tongue, as natural as breathing.

"You."

Everything was fucked up. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. When Kaz reached out to his Crows for a job, for old times sake, a heist that shouldn't have been quarter as serious as the Ice Court, it went sideways at the last minute.

It was a blur to all of them how they got out, and none of them dared to question their luck. While you and Nina carried a bleeding Jesper back to the Slat, you suddenly felt a sharp pain in your abdomen, fearing that it might've been from a kick, or worse, a stab wound.

Inej, Wylan and Kaz surrounded the three of you, keeping an eye out for any more threats. Kaz pushed the Slat's door open for you to go inside, and Nina helped you get Jesper up into his old room, quickly setting him down on a desk he left there.

You were all grateful that almost no one was in the building, too busy living their life on a Friday night.

The pain in your abdomen appeared again, and you quickly checked yourself for a wound or bruise, but finding nothing you ignored it. Maybe it's from stress, it wouldn't be the first time.

The silence quickly disappeared when Nina and Kaz walked into the room, Wylan and Inej hot on their heels. They began arguing about Kaz's planning, Nina's still intact fear of using her abilities, Kaz's stubbornnes, and so on. You tried to yell at them to stop, not wanting to deal with their differences at the moment, but they didn't listen, even after multiple of your attempts.

During one of your outbursts, you sent Inej down to the kitchen to calm Wylan down and keep him company. She only returned to gave you a bowl of water and a towel, to clean off Jesper's wound.

As you worked, the sharp pain increased in your stomach and it took every ounce of your will to not double over. You didn't notice when Kaz and Nina had stopped their argument, but you did notice the eerie silence that followed. You were just finishing stitching Jesper's side, when you grabbed your stomach as a new wave of pain washed over you.

No.

No, no, no, no. This can't be happening. This is not what I think it is, you thought.

Please, don't let this be what I think it is.

You took a glance at your dark pants, but didn't notice anything, so you slided a hand between your thighs and checking it, you saw blood. You knew what it meant. You knew what this was, yet you had to take a second to fully wrap your head around it.

"Are you alright?" Nina asked from the foot of the bed, checking both you and Jesper. "Are you hurt? You look pale as a-"

"If she was, she would've told us Zenik," Kaz said on his usually cold voice, making Nina snap back at him. "How am I supposed to now, if I don't ask? Wouldn't be the first time one of you hid a wound-"

"Just shut up," you told them, but they didn't hear you over their new argument, and you felt the tears burning in your eyes, as you put a blanket over Jesper out of protectiveness for him.

You could feel the blood dripping down your pants, down to your leg, and you felt like throwing up. You took deep breaths to keep yourself from completely breaking.

"Wait, just, shut up for a minute Brekker!" Nina told Kaz and he was ready to snap at her, when Nina turned to you sternly. "Alright Y/N, I can literally feel the blood around you, so if you have any-"

"I need you to bring me my bag," you told her, not looking up at her, the pain still too evident on your face. "It's a brown bag, with clothes and hygienic stuff in it, it's under the bed in Kaz's room."

"Are you sure you're alright? I can check if there's anything that-"

"Nina, I'm having a miscarriage, would you fucking go and get it?!" You snap at her and making the mistake of staring at her while doing so. The unshead tears mixed with the pain in your eyes makes both Kaz and Nina freeze.

Kaz looks at you with wide eyes, his face going visibly pale, and his cane almost slips out from his hands. He manages to catch himself and leans his back to the wall for support. Nina doesn't know what to do, she just stands there, the tears streaming down her face. Before she could even try speaking up, you stop her.

"Please Nina, I beg of you, just get me that damn bag," your voice cracks as you try to hold back yourself from crying. As Nina opens the door to go, you will yourself to walk out the door, away from Kaz's hand, all the way to his room. Nina doesn't say anything as she gives you the bag, just looks at you mournfully, gently giving you a half hug.

You and Kaz stand in the room for what feels like hours, when you move to the small bathroom, unpacking your bag.

Why did I even ask Nina? I was heading here anyway. Nevermind, it got me time to compose myself until I got here, you tell yourself, a distraction from wanting to collapse to the floor.

When you felt the first tears escape, you furiously wiped them off, quickly getting some stuff from the bag. Your vision began to blur from your tears, despite your violent attempts at getting rid of them.

Kaz watched you with a mix of sadness, frustration and shock. He didn't even know you were pregnant. Maybe you didn't either, maybe you were just guessing, figuring it out. The state he saw you in when you realized what was happening, it was a stab to his heart. He didn't know how he could comfort you. He always understood your pain, but this time he knew he wouldn't. He would never fully understand this loss.

As he watched you become more furious with your tears, still trying to keep yourself from falling apart, he was there to catch you. Kaz abandoned his cane and wrapped you in a hug and let himself slowly slide down to the floor as you sobbed in his arms.

You told him you weren't ready for a child. He agreed that he wasn't either. Then why did this hurt you so much?

"I can't," you said but Jesper just scoffed. "Oh come on! I celebrate my wedding only once, and I already got Inej to drink. I believe the pirate life got to her," he giggled and you just shook your head at him.

Yes, Wylan and Jesper finally got married, which resulted in a small celebration within the Crows. Everyone was at their mansion in the dining room, congratulating the newly wed couple. Kaz was more alert than ever, never once leaving your side for more than a few minutes. Jesper even commented on it, which resulted in Kaz hitting his head with a slice of cake.

Jesper didn't mind though, he ate the remains off his head without problem.

"Just a sip for me, love! I even bought that fancy drink you like," Jesper said, practically begging you, but you just giggled at him. "Jesper, if a woman says no, then it's no."

"Alright, alright," he held his palms up, not pushing further. "Just tell me why. Normally, you wouldn't miss out on an occasion like this."

You took a quick glance at Kaz, and when he tried to cover up his boyish smirk with downing his drink, you smiled at Jesper.

'Yes, but normally I wouldn't be four months pregnant." The silence that came was filled with shock. Except the sound of Nina choking on her food, and Inej hitting her on the back for help.

"You're what?!"

"I'm gonna be an aunt, I'm gonna be an aunt!"

"I knew there was a reason Kaz acted like a guard dog lately!"

"Saints help this child,"

Everyone got so excited and busy with talking to you, that it gave Kaz a moment to relish in your presence. The way you were constantly smiling at them, already glowing from joy, your hand never letting go of Kaz's under the table. When Kaz felt someone's gaze on him, he glanced around to see Nina staring at him with a bittersweet smile, as if remembering the same thing he had on his mind.

This will be different. This will be better. This will be good.

As you came closer and closer to the end of your pregnancy, you became a hurricane of human emotions.

After announcing the news to the Crows, it was only a matter of time before you started showing. You and Kaz were both terrified of what could happen if anyone in the Barrel found out about your pregnancy. After endless days of debating with Kaz, you decided to move to Lij, Kaz's hometown for a few months.

The countryside relaxed you, and Kaz found it that if you had moved here sooner, maybe he could've evaded the aftermath of your mood changes. He thought this calm and happy version of you was far better than the one throwing knives at his head for gaining weight.

Since you came here, Kaz tried to deal with his trauma in this place too. He could still feel Jordie here, and in the first few weeks he was sure he was going to go mad. Until one night, when you were over the moon with the baby kicking, you advised Kaz to find peace within this place. So he did.

Reluctantly, annoyed and terrified to his core, but he did. He made a headstone for his family, he let himself mourn, remember the boy he once was.

He also didn't stop being Dirtyhands, now doing it via letters. He had Wylan and Jesper to take care of things for now, along with Anika and Specht. Kaz made sure to check on them quite seriously, despite not being able to go for more than a day or two.

One day he found himself working on the same things his father did in his memories. He made sure the little farmhouse had stable staircases, he rearranged the furniture almost everywhere, he fixed the bed frame in the bedroom, also fixed every single lock, door knob, window, and even made time to take care of the farm itself; the trees, the crops, the two horses in the stalls.

Despite trying to keep his hair as dark as possible, Kaz Brekker couldn't hide from the sunlight. Especially not when you looked the happiest when seeing him basked in sunlight, his hair brown like chocolate basked in honey.

"Just one more!" Nina shouted as you groaned in pain. You told Kaz that you wanted Nina to deliver your child, despite her lack of training. Though Nina helped assissting births before, this was different. All three of you knew it was different.

The baby was coming weeks earlier than they should've, which made you panic more than anything. You gripped the bedframe above your head so tightly, you could hear the wood creaking.

You've been at this for a few hours now, and you just wanted it to stop. Everything hurt and you wanted this to be over. Nina kept shouting at you, finding it the most effective way of keeping your focus on her. Kaz didn't leave your side for one second, except when Nina needed something to help her.

At first he kept his gloves on, the sweat of your skin making him doubt himself, but as the hours passed he got rid of them. His hand was gripping yours, trying to take away from your pain, if it was even possible.

But when you heard that cry, you felt the world stop. Nina was saying something as she checked on the newborn to make sure he was alright, but you couldn't hear it. The only thing that you focused on was the little boy, that was now placed on your chest. Everything fell into place as you stared down at him, with Kaz wrapping an arm around your shoulder, looking at his son like he was some kind of treasure.

You have spent hours in the rain to get information. You had knives thrown at you. You escaped death multiple times. Once you even drank poison to make a bluff look real.

All of them seemed like a walk on Sunday compared to the first year with your son. You could go on and on about how he didn't want to sleep, then didn't want to eat, then he would only stop crying when Kaz was holding him, then when he was constantly crying in his arms, scaring Kaz who had a hard time keeping the newborn at his chest, that when your son began sitting you were in constant fear of him somehow rolling off the bed, and-

And you would still say you love him more than anything. Because when he wasn't frustrating you, he was the happiest kid you've seen in your life. His giggle and laugh, the way his eyes lit up with joy while playing with him. Saints those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes, the exact replica of Kaz's. Whenever you looked at the two of them, you couldn't even try to deny they were father and son.

His hair turned out to be what you imagined: light brown, almost blonde, as if it was Sun kissed. He could be tricky just like Kaz too.

When he first stood up, not yet walking, you didn't saw him do it, but Kaz rushed to get you to make you see it. It was only a few seconds, but your son looked at you and sat down, and after asking him multiple times, he wouldn't stand up again. And the boy was giggling all through it.

His first steps were something that you'd keep in your memories forever. Because it wasn't a milestone just for him, but for Kaz too. Your son was past his first birthday, and Kaz was having a hard time with him. Something always went sideways, wether it was accidentally making him cry, or having to give him to you, because he couldn't hold him anymore.

You were moving back to Ketterdam to a quiet neighbourhood, where no one knew your face, the apartment purchased under a fake name.

Kaz was on the front porch of the farmhouse, getting the lighter boxes into the carriage. He heard footsteps behind him and when he turned he saw your son standing at the front door. You were just a few steps behind unmoving, not wanting to make him stop.

"You're gonna keep standing there, or will you help?" Kaz asked him, as if he could give him an answer.

He did this a lot with him. You noticed the habit by accident, when one time you came back from the market and heard Kaz talking to someone. You thought maybe one of the Crows came for a visit, so when you saw Kaz in deep conversation with your newborn about investments, you were more than surprised. From then on it became a daily routine for the two of them to "have a chat".

The child babbled something and Kaz nodded. "Start by coming here and picking this up," he said and held up a little toy blanket Inej got for your son.

And he did. He took four wabbling steps towards Kaz, purposefully looking at him before landing on his foot. Kaz instantly picked him up and when you saw one of his rare smiles, your heart melted a little.

Living in Ketterdam with a 2 year old was definitely the biggest job you and Kaz had to pull off. It helped that Wylan and Jesper was closer this way, if you needed someone to take care of your son.

What didn't help was the noise at night. Both of you got used to the sound of fights and drunks on the street, the neighbourhood far from the Barrel not escaping their voices. The two of you could've slept like it was nothing, if it wasn't for your child crying out in the middle of the night.

You had to take multiple turns in one night, and it was tiring the both of you out. With Kaz now back in the Barrel, doing his business, building his empire, it was slowly taking a toll on him. So one night, with the help of Jesper, Kaz snuck out with your son to his office in the Slat, figuring out a way to keep him calm.

You were in the Crow Club, tending to a few things, giving the impression that you were just travelling and doing jobs the past two years. You felt relieved to see how well Anika and Specht worked together, and felt a childish giggle in your throat as you fell back into your role as a guard. The rush you felt finally wearing your old clothes, the feeling of the knives strapped under your coat, and the sadistic joy of twisting a man's arm for the first time in years, it was unfathomable.

When you went to the Slat and made your way to Kaz's room you heard him talking again. Picking up on the calmer tone he used, you entered and noticed your son sitting in Kaz's lap, as he was pointing on a map in front of them.

"You're saying we should invest into Fifth Harbor?" Kaz asked but the toddler just said "ma". "Could you elaborate?" And with that he put the child's weight on his good leg and lightly began shaking his leg, as if the boy was riding a horse. He giggled as his own voice trembled from the motion.

"Yes, but in that case it'd be wiser to expand the Crow Club, or rather establish a new gambling den." Another sound came from the toddler, this time saying"mama". "Go, ask your mother yourself."

You were about to put a bullet in your head. Or at least ask Jesper to do it for you. By the look on Kaz's face you would have to wrestle for it.

You were spending the evening at Wylan's and what do you know, Jesper was ready to keep your son entertained the whole time. You on the other hand, were scared of what your toddler would accidentally say. He's been trying to talk to you for weeks now, only knowing words and not actual sentences yet.

But one night, when Kaz was late because of something he had to take care of, you were waiting for him in the kitchen after putting your son to sleep. He came in with blood all over his shirt, thankfully his coat covering most of it.

What you didn't notice though, was the small presence at the doorway, listening to the two of you talking.

"So, you just left him there like that? In his own kitchen?"

"You rather I tell him he's been a bad boy? The asshole was being overconfident with himself. Plus, he owes the Dregs."

"What did he even say?"

"I told him I have his contract with the Council, to which he said "You can shove it up your ass". I had a difficult day, so you know why I-"

"Your ass." The little voice said, wich made you look at him in shock. Your son was hiding behind the doorframe, clutching his stuffed animal to his chest. You looked back at Kaz in disbelief, which turned into annoyment.

"Would it kill you to teach him a decent word?"

"He knows the swear words from you, wife," Kaz told you with a smug look. "Fuck you," you whisper to him, but unfortunately still loud enough for your son to hear.

"Fuck"

"This is all your fault Kaz,"

So you were waiting for the bomb to drop, for your son to finally say one of the bad words he picked up, but the night went on without it. You bid your goodbye to Jesper and Wylan, your son holding your hand and waving at them as you did.

"You'll have to tell me where Jesper keeps his liquor," you ask of Wylan, and the little boy next to you finally speaks.

"Up your ass," he smiles. You just stare back at Wylan and Jesper's face with the best poker face you have, ignoring Kaz's cough next to you. Your son also says the word "fuck", but you're too stunned to pay it any mind.

"Uh, see you next week then," you tell them and turn to leave, but Jesper's voice stops you.

"Where the hell did he learn these?" He tries to contain his laugh, but the smile on his face fails him.

"Ma-ma,"

"I swear he's doing this on purpose."

A/N: The first half was more tragic than it should've been, I'm so fcking sorry, the idea just slipped out :/ Hope you liked it, though😅

[koishiro]

# - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : after meeting megumi’s dad, you’ll experience a night at the lake you’ll never forget

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : dilf!toji x non-virgin!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : short smut with the tiniest plot ever

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : cumming inside (readers on bc), oral (male receiving), cheating (toji’s married)

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : this is in a different universe where toji isn’t a complete dick to megumi and is a responsible parent (shocking I know) but still doesn’t completely get along with megs

Part 1 | 2 | 3

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

He was the first guy to ever get his cock to that place in the back of my mouth where it can slip into my throat.

It was an exhilarating discovery, learning there's a whole new thing out there to try and do. I was surprised no one had tried this with me before, from what I can gather after the fact it seems very popular with men, but they're too intimidated to try it in real life, or at least initiate it.

My friend, Nobara, had a lake house (which was really open to anyone, giving access to fishermen and, like us, a spot for hookups) about an hour away from our school. We'd go there a few times through the years with our group of friends which usually revolved around myself, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and whatever guys we were dating/crushing on at that time and spend the weekend playing drinking games and daring each other to go skinny dipping. It was every students dream.

I'd met Megumi’s dad a few times since I'd known him. I met him the same day I met ‘Gumi, walking past his dorm I saw his dad lugging heavy furniture into his dorm, sweaty and attractive — in a rugged, masculine way. I had found out later that his name was Toji.

"Has anyone ever told you your dad is really hot?" I asked Megumi when we were both sat crossed-legged on his bed that night, figuring a little salacious question asking would bond us, "Ha ha, are you one of those girls? I don't get the whole "hot dad" thing. They're just old.”

Figuring I had hit a sore spot, It was the last conversation we had about him, but it definitely wasn't the last time I thought about him. I always made sure to dress my best when I knew he was stopping by. Little dresses only a freshman would wear, low cut tank tops and once — when I was especially bored — a sheer white t-shirt with no bra underneath because, "whoops" I had just rolled out of bed.

It was a fun game to play but I didn't think he ever noticed, or at least he never really acknowledged me until one of those debaucherous weekends when ‘Gumi and his dad got their messages crossed and we all ended up at the lake house together. At first it was uncomfortable when we arrived and saw the trucks, Toji was there accompanied by some other men. They had planned a weekend for drinking. But, Toji gave us a wink and told us to stay on the lower level and he'd stay out of our way. Everyone felt relieved and told ‘Gumi how lucky he was to have a "cool" dad. But I felt something else when Toji winked at us.

That night, after many, many drinks I found myself wandering out to the dock. Everyone else had passed out, but I was wide awake. I saw Toji approaching me from the windy path down the hill from the cabin, two bottled beers in one hand. He handed one to me wordlessly, searching my eyes for something — the reason I was awake and alone maybe.

We stood there silently until he stepped forward and brushed my hair off my face, "You're a beautiful girl, (name), don't think that goes unnoticed" I blushed, could he tell I was harboring a crush on him? Did he notice the way I jerked slightly at his touch, nervous about my body's powerful response to it?

"Thanks Toji," I said, taking a swig of my beer and looking at the moonlight reflecting over the waves. When I dared to make eye contact with him again I realized he hadn't moved, he was still watching me intently. Did this mean — before I could finish my thought, he was on me, one hand placed very firmly on my lower back the other in my hair as he kissed me. His tongue was in my mouth before I knew what was happening, tracing mine. I had the urge to wrap my legs around him, but there was nowhere to balance on this dock.

"Come up to my bedroom" It was a request, but it was also a statement, he was sure of my answer.

I giggled when we crossed the threshold and closed the door behind us. It wasn't just that when he grinned and you could see the wrinkles around his eyes, it wasn't just the physical attraction. It was his demeanor, it was that he was a real live man, not a flimsy college boy. This was going to be a different kind of hook-up.

"You're married," I reminded him, not particularly pleased about remembering this detail myself.

"I can keep a secret," he said, closing his mouth on mine again, and backing us to the bed.

He removed all my clothing fairly quickly and laid on top of me, fully clothed. The rough textures rubbing against my bare skin felt incredible. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he rasped out. "I've waited for a very long time”

I wanted to prove that I was worth it, all this risk. So I reached up and felt him through his pants, staring longingly into his eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head as I unbuckled, unzipped, and released a very healthy looking cock.

I slid off the bed and onto the floor to get a better angle and he stood over me, gathering my hair behind my head as I started blowing him. I looked up at him and was rewarded with a face that was most definitely in ecstasy as I took him in my mouth.

He held my head down on his cock while I took him in deeply. This was a move widely hated by every woman I knew, but it was usually performed by dumb frat-type boys. But Toji was no boy, he knew what he was doing, he was looking out for me and making the experience short — just long enough to add a bit of excitement. When he pulled out of me he gave me his all too cocky grin and leaned down to kiss me, “I knew you'd be good at this”

He pulled me up and walked me over to a dresser placed underneath a large window. I could still see the moonlight on the lake as he bent me over it. Was it really just a few moments ago we were nearly strangers on that dock together? I was brought back to reality by Toji spreading my legs further apart and pushing my upper back down until my bare breasts were pressed against its cool surface and I felt him enter me.

"Oh my god..." I couldn’t help but moan as he thrusted into me. He shushed me by placing his hand over my mouth for a moment as he picked up speed. My moan was apparently too loud but he was willing to risk the loud sound it made as he slapped my ass over and over, groaning and filling me with his cock. I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. I was no virgin but I'd never experienced sex like this — it wasn't awkward or embarrassing or rushed. I was very aware that I was getting fucked by a Man, not "fooling around" with a boy.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked and when I answered yes he cooed, "good girl, my good girl" The sound of that phrase coming out of his mouth sent me over the edge and I felt myself spasming around his cock as I released myself into my orgasm, even enjoying the sensation of a bit of extra liquid rolling down my thigh.

He was still thrusting into me rhythmically, alternating between kneading my breasts and grabbing — and slapping — my ass. I hadn't had sex last this long before and I loved being able to savor the feeling. "I'm getting close," he groaned and I tensed my body up, holding my place more firmly so that he could get deeper inside me as he unloaded his semen into me.

"You're so good at this, but I can tell you're just a beginner," He began as we laid on his bed to rest. I laughed, it was true. I had this fantasy about being a girl who gave amazing head and being really good at all the sex stuff, like some kind of femme fatale men couldn't resist. "I can sense you want to learn though” I nodded in agreement. I could play out this crush and learn what would drive my next actual boyfriend wild — who wouldn't want to kill those two birds with one stone?

And so, I began a year-long affair with Toji. We'd sneak away for a weekend when I said I was visiting my parents and meet at the lake house for lessons — how to stimulate differently for a long or a slow blow job, which positions let him get in the deepest while still providing some kind of external stimulation for me, how to prepare for and receive anal, how to lie with my head falling off the edge of the bed and allow him to push his cock into my throat (without choking). Occasionally I just gave him head while he drove me around, careful not to drive anywhere too well-lit or populated.

Now, how was I to tell Megumi?

—

Part 1 | 2 | 3

[daisyvisions]

A Little Motivation - (e.s) | Pt. 2

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Now that you have Eric’s undivided attention, he is determined to study hard and claim his prize. But will he be able to handle how hot his prize is?

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), multiple male masturbation, oral (both m! and f! receiving because… it’s a 69 🤪), handjob, face riding, groping, some dry humping, cum eating, hickies, pussy!drunk Eric, reader turns Eric into a fumbling mess, praise kink mentioned, let me know if I missed anything. Proofread once.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Part 2 is finally up! Sorry for the wait y’all, but at least I didn’t leave this one dusting away in the WIPs. Consider this my advanced birthday gift to our puppy boy Eric!

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Read Part 1 here!

Ever since the tutoring session, Eric could not stop thinking about you.

The old image of you suddenly shifting into a new one as he replayed the chain of events that had happened hours ago. It was like you were a gift slowly unraveling in front of him. And he was eager to know what kind of surprise was in store for tomorrow.

As soon as he got home, he ran to his room and plopped down. Hastily unzipping his pants and freeing his aching member from his boxers to relieve all the pent up tension you’d given him earlier.

Spitting on his palm for extra lubrication before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, gradually pumping himself as he holds your used panties in his other hand. Shoving the damp material against his face as he inhales the scent of you, wishing it was you that was bouncing on his length instead of his hand.

The blue balls you had given him was so bad, he even came thrice in succession. Continuing to fist himself after the first high came around until his body started to convulse after the third one.

He can’t recall a time anyone has ever had an effect on him like this. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been in a dry spell for quite sometime, or maybe because there was something with the way your eyes bore deep into his soul. Or maybe even your teasing but delicate touches that sent shivers down his spine like no one ever had.

Either way, whatever trance you’ve placed him under he swore he never wanted to get out of it.

After rounds of relieving himself Eric was motivated to study hard for your next tutoring session tomorrow, something he would never be caught doing in a million years.

He was incredibly determined to please you. Not only because of the special reward you had promised him, but because there was something with the way you praised him that gave him a newfound confidence. Not even the compliments from his coach or the screams of adoring fans during games could compare to what he felt with you.

Eric leaned back on his chair for a moment thinking about it again. His heart fluttering against his chest as he replayed your sweet words of praise.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re doing sooo well…”

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.”

His mind started to drift as he thought about how your alluring voice would sound as you praised him for other things aside from school work. Thinking about the way your hands would slowly comb through his hair as praises turned into moans of his name. Chanting his name like an endless prayer while he had his way with you.

Eric shook his head and immediately patted his face to get himself out of the little fantasy brewing in his mind before his cock stirs in his pants again.

‘Keep on studying and you’ll get your reward tomorrow.’ He told himself.

This was definitely going to be a long night for him.

As soon as Eric rang the doorbell to your apartment, he was immediately greeted by the image of you wearing what he thinks was the most jaw dropping sundress he’d ever seen.

The way the fabric naturally hugged your figure, accentuating every curve that he never noticed until now. Not to mention how lightheaded he felt the moment he got a whiff of your perfume, slowly permeating his lungs as he stood there frozen like an idiot.

“Well… let’s get to it shall we?” You smile, already noticing the effect you have on him.

“Y-yeah. Yeah sure let’s go.” He stutters.

It was a good thing Eric studied the night prior, otherwise nothing would've entered his brain after reviewing with you for almost two hours straight (which was a new record for both of you).

“Wow, you went through the entire session without looking at your phone!” You exclaim as you close your notebook shut.

“What can I say? I love to learn.” Eric smugly says as he leans his back on his chair, raising his arms to stretch for a moment.

“Oh yeah?” You flirtatiously reply. You visibly see Eric gulp down whatever was stuck in his throat as his cheeks started to turn slightly pink.

You let out a small giggle as you pull out the mock test from your bag and slide the stapled papers his way.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Eric nibbled on his nails as he anxiously watched you grade his paper. Nervously shaking his leg as you kept on flipping to the next page with no reaction on your face whatsoever.

As soon as you finished, you flipped back to the very first page and wrote down on the top right corner his overall grade and drew many stars around it. You looked up at him with the most breathtaking smile he’d ever seen.

“Good job Eric! You got a perfect on this mock test!” You praise him as you rest your hand on top of his and give a light squeeze. The small gesture making his heart flutter inside his chest.

“Almost seems like you studied before the session, hm?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Me? Studying outside our tutoring sessions? Pfsh-” Eric replies but refusing to look you in the eye.

You laugh at his reaction and it was like he was seeing hearts floating around you and the feeling of your warm hand still holding his was enough for him to feel a sudden throb beneath his jeans.

Jesus, keep it together Eric.

“So.. Uh… About that reward…” He inserts the reminder before any awkward air entering between the conversation.

“Oh. Eager now are we?” You tease as you push your chair backwards and stand up.

You walk over to him and hold your hand out for him, grabbing it and getting up from his seat as you lead him into the living room, instantly pushing his shoulders down as he plops onto the couch.

Eric doesn't even have time to process what’s going on until you suddenly straddle his lap, both knees resting at each side of his thighs as you lower yourself onto him. His hands immediately find purchase on the soft dips of your hips.

“For doing so good today, you get to choose what kind of reward you want superstar-”

You immediately dive into his neck, placing light pecks until they start to turn into lingering kisses. Licking and sucking on his pulse as you wait for him to tell you what reward he wants to cash in.

“H-holy shit-” Eric eyes roll back as he tries to focus on the softness of your lips kissing his sensitive skin.

You hold his hands in yours as you guide them under your dress. Guiding him from the globes of your ass to your inner thighs. As Eric explores the softness of your body with his fingertips, he lets out a deep groan as he discovers the fact that you were not wearing underwear this whole time.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

You feel Eric's bulge twitch beneath you, trying to hide the smirk growing on your face as you continue to leave red and purple marks on his neck. Who would’ve known how pussy drunk he could get?

“C’mon Eric. What will it be?” You mumble against his neck.

He tries to open his mouth to speak, but all the words just end up stuck in his throat as groans escape his lips instead. You pull your head away from his neck and move your face closer to his.

“Why don’t I make the decision for you, hm?” You lean to give him a deep kiss before pulling away, grinning from ear to ear as his lips attempt to chase after yours.

“Just lie down for me okay? Let me do all the work.” You whisper in his ear.

Eric whines at the lost of your body against his as you get off his lap. His eyes are focused on you the whole time as you instruct him to lie down on the couch, waiting to see what you’ll do to him next.

You straddle him once more, but this time sitting on his stomach as you face the other way with your ass in his line of vision. Eric’s not able to see what you’re up to, but he can definitely feel and hear his belt unbuckling and your fingers pulling the zipper of his jeans down as you free his aching cock.

He feels your hands slide into his jeans, his length throbbing in your hands as you continue to palm him sensually. You could feel your own core throbbing simultaneously as you play with him, hooking your fingers to the waistband of his briefs before completely freeing his member.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his fully erect cock, his pink flushed tip weeping with pre cum as it twitches on its own. Veins protruding on his length indicating how hard he is for you. You adjust your position, moving backwards to sit on his chest as you lower your head to give his mushroom head a few kisses and kitten licks.

The act alone already has Eric moaning like an untouched virgin. The way he could feel you kissing his member all over and lapping at his length slowly. But his eyes roll back as soon as he feels his cock suddenly enter the warm and wet cavern of your mouth.

“Fuck, just like that-” Eric mumbles as his eyes flutter shut. The way your mouth expertly moves up and down, almost as if his cock was actually inside your cunt. This was probably the best head he’s ever had in his life. His head completely in the clouds as you kept on working your mouth on him.

Eric instinctively places his hands to your ass, pushing the hem of your dress to your waist and exposing your naked bottom. The moment he opens his eyes, he’s greeted by the image of your glistening cunt inches away from his face. The sweet smell of your essence makes his cock twitch inside your mouth.

He wastes no time by pulling your ass closer to his face and immediately darts his tongue between your folds, lapping and sucking at your core as much as he can.

The feeling of his mouth practically making out with your pussy lips makes you suck him even harder than before. Muffled moans shared between you as you both busy yourselves with tasting one another.

You release his length from your mouth with a pop, continuing to pleasure him as your hand fists him up and down. Soft whines escape your lips as the tip of his tongue flicks your sensitive clit.

You’re so desperate to chase after your high, you don't even realize you’re starting to grind your core onto his face. The vibrations of his groans against your cunt making your walls clench at nothing.

Eric feels like he’s entered a different dimension. He’s never had a girl aggressively ride his face like this before. The way he’s starting to lose oxygen and taste nothing but you drives him closer to the edge of his own high.

You already know he’s close with the way his moans begin to stutter. So you take his length inside your mouth once more as you suck the life out of him and continue riding his face like there’s no tomorrow.

You both reach your highs together, his warm load exploding inside your mouth as Eric laps and sucks whatever essence comes out of you as if he’d been dying of thirst. You immediately get off his chest and adjust your position to face him, slightly giggling at his obvious fucked out face.

His senses come back to him as he starts feeling you grind your bare pussy on his strained cock, whining as soon as you stop rolling your hips and lean down to kiss him again. You smile into the kiss as you feel him throb beneath you. Tasting yourselves as your tongues intertwine for a moment.

As you break from the kiss, Eric looks at you with stars in his eyes. The way you seem to be glowing in front of him as you gently caress cheek. You give him a small kiss on his forehead as you smile at him before leaning close to his lips to whisper,

“See? All you needed was a little motivation…”

[roseadleyn]

Lidia‘s SA was handled even worse. Sjm would have lidia fuck Ruhn in mind at the same time she’s getting SA‘ed by her ex. Lidia never received proper time to heal from that sh*t. The moment Ruhnlidia made up in the third book they had mf sex.

Nesta had sex with Cassian right after getting SA‘ed by that weirdo kelpie from the lake, and that other time when Lanthys made her see that vision in which he SA‘ed her too. The SA from Tomas was also never properly acknowledged.

At least Gwyn had 2 years to recover. Most SA survivors in her books don’t receive much time to at least process it all before fucking. You’re telling me Rhys is all cool with going down on Feyre after 50 years of SA? Feyre can easily forget the sh*t Rhys did to her utm? Great.

If Gwynriel is canon, Sjm will most definitely fuck up her trauma like she always does.

Sjm: „Oh you were touched against your will?“

Sjm: „Here have a cock. That will heal you quickly!“

Worst of all is that the sex is always so… rough? Specifically for Nesta. At least worship her and make her feel safe instead of dicking her down like she‘s a good one night stand. Poor girl.

ya i'm just realizing that gwyn is at least not as bad as nesta or feyre or lucien or rhys or lidia. i haven't read any other sjm books but i know abt lidia and that's insane 😭 it's like she doesn't know how to write intimacy. it's like she thinks emotional connections only exist in sex.

it was insane how feyre only rescued lucien from being raped because she remembered her darling rhys and not because lucien is her first friend and also it's just the MORAL THING TO DO

( also why is it that everytime a couple fights in sjm's novels, they always have sex when they make up? i get that angry makeup sex is soo hot etc but like can no one have a conversation? can she not show how sometimes issues are talked out not fucked out? )

do NOT i hate how she wrote nesta i hate everything abt it. nesta was assaulted by tomas and when he found out he restrained her against the wall??? in the same manner tomas would have?? also i'm never going to forget how cassian tugged at the skirts of her dress and asked her 'what're you hiding under all this anyways?' without her consent, during a time in which they didn't like each other, and he was there on diplomatic purposes.

and i just checked but literally RIGHT after she was sa-ed by the kelpie, cassian not only had sex with her but he left her without any aftercare. bed still warm. rough sex as if she's a one night stand. she's sexually assaulted and then left wondering if cassian was 'punishing' her by leaving immediately. ugh i despise him i hate him.

and rhys? he literally has one (1) traumatic flashback to his trauma and whoop that's it yall we're done. and feyre wearing the same clothes she was wearing when she got assaulted for rhys, even though rhys was the one who assaulted her.

it pushes an extremely unhealthy narrative. very young girls (literally 15-16 year olds) read these books and they'll think these toxic, unrealistic, unhealthy dynamics are normal. it's so concerning and i hate the entire genre of dark romance for it but that's a story for some other angry rant

i hate the rough jackhammering sex. i fear she's gonna do the same shit with elain and lucien (😭). nesta deserves to be worshipped and praised and then given plenty of aftercare free my girlll

( for acotar stans who for some reason go into anti tags: do not interact u will be BLOCKED !!! okay bye 💋 )

[dancingtotuyo]

Home | Part 2

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Summary: You and Frankie come to a crossroads

Tags: fluff, angst, family, recovering!frankie, girl dad!Frankie

Warnings: references to past drug use (cocaine), addiction recovery, struggling to cope, let me know if I missed anything

Notes: once again- thank you to the lovely @wannab-urs for beta reading!

I don’t think this is going to turn into a full fledge series but I definitely foresee myself revisiting this little family at least once more.

Words: 2225

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist

Life either feels like it’s rushing by in a blur or crawling at a snail's pace. Layla is growing like a weed, standing as tall and as straight as a yardstick. You celebrate her third birthday in the summer, filling this old house with smiles and laughter. You wish it could always be this way.

Frankie gets his helicopter license reinstated the year before. It helps, but you still see the struggle in his eyes. Despite his assurances that he’s not touched cocaine since he got busted, you find yourself checking his old hiding places and searching for new ones. You haven’t found anything yet. He’s given no indication of using again, but you see the stress carved out in his forehead and the weight of the world on his shoulders. It feels like a when, not an if. You don’t know how to slow down the barreling train.

Then, one night he’s not home. It’s well past midnight as you sit on the couch wrapped tightly in a blanket staring out the window. You pray for his high beams to blind you. There’s a pit forming in your stomach. He always tells you when he’s coming home. The only pictures you can conjure up are of him snorting lines. The background changes, but you always see the same blown pupils staring back at you.

The night you met, you’d done lines together off Frankie’s dealer’s coffee table. The dealer was dating your roommate at the time. It hadn’t been the first time you used or the last, but you could count the times you had on your hands. You escaped the addiction. Frankie hadn’t.

It’s after 1 am when his headlights finally shine in your eyes. You stay on the couch, not eager to greet what’s coming through your back door. Frankie’s feet are heavy on the back stoop. There’s a pattern, a routine to them. Two knocks on the side of the house, three stomps on the doormat. The rattling storm door opens and then the ever present squeak of the backdoor echoes through the quiet house.

Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself up. Frankie's eyes meet yours as you flick on the kitchen light. It stings both your eyes. You search for any signs of a fading high. He seems calm, a bit shaken but not in a coked out way. His eyes dilate as they should. He catches your careful inspection. “I’m not high.”

You bite your lip. “Then where have you been?”

Deep bags stain under his eyes. His shoulders slump. He looks exhausted. “I went to get high… sat in the alley for hours.”

“Fuckin’ christ, Frankie!” You hiss, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re not sure you can survive another relapse.

“Baby, I didn’t. I told you.” He grabs your hand, voice breaking. He needs you to believe him. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I’ve been worried sick!”

“I’m sorry. I had a bad day and-” a sharp little cry interrupts him, and then another. It reminds you of a kitten. They seem to be coming from his duffel. “Shit.” Frankie drops your hands, rushing over to his duffel.

Carefully, he unzips the bag, catching a ball of black fluff that threatens to escape. Your jaw drops. “Francisco Morales! What the fuck is that?”

He holds the kitten to his chest, fingers scratching behind its ears. It’s tiny, probably not old enough to be weaned from its mother yet. “I saw him in the alley.” The kitten nuzzles into Frankie more. “I couldn’t find any other kittens or the mom. The little guy was all alone.”

“And probably infected with fleas.”

“So, I’ll throw my bag in the dryer.” Frankie shrugs. “and pick up some flea and tick medication tomorrow.”

“We can’t take care of a kitten. We’re not prepared.”

“Can’t say we were prepared to take care of Layla either, but she’s still alive,” A faint smile graces Frankie’s face either from the joke or the way the tiny animal is falling asleep in his solid arms.

You bite your lip. Frankie is tired and worn and barely fighting off the demons, but he’s smiling, maybe even relaxing a little. He chuckles as the kitten perks back up, swatting at Frankie’s fingers.

You sigh. “He has to stay in the bathroom tonight, and he’s going to the vet as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Frankie winks, stepping toward you.

You sigh, letting the night’s tension out. Frankie is here. He’s okay physically. He’s not coked up. Of all the outcomes you spent hours worrying over, this one is sunshine and rainbows. As the tension eases, you feel more inclined toward the kitten. He’s a little ball of midnight fur, not a speck of other color to be seen.

“I swear to god, Frank if he has rabies-”

“Then I’m already dead.” He teases.

You smack his shoulder. “Or any other communicable diseases, I’m going to kill you.”

“He’s just a kitten, Babe.” Frankie smiles, kissing the tuft of fur between his tiny ears.

You sigh. “I’ll grab some newspaper. You’ll have to give him milk.”

“Don’t kittens like milk?”

“He’ll probably get the runs. Cats can’t digest milk.” You shoot Frankie the side eyes, gathering the necessary supplies to get the kitten settled.

Frankie is in the bathroom with him until almost 3 am. You have to admit. You almost feel bad leaving the tiny animal alone. Almost. The last thing you need is a flea infestation.

Frankie eventually curls up next to you, sighing as he nuzzles into your neck. “Think he’ll be okay?”

“You found him in an alley. One night curled up on a towel in our bathroom won’t hurt him.”

“Layla is going to love him.”

A laugh sputters from your lips. “If she doesn’t choke him to death. We’re still working on gentle hands.”

Frankie’s laugh joins yours from deep within him. It’s the kind that brings a smile, a true one, about. It’s something that’s been rare as of late.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His hands wander haplessly. You bite your lip, soaking in the feeling of his warm hands across your body as you remember how close you came to losing this tonight.

He kisses your neck. “I’m sorry I worried you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You always worry me.”

Frankie inhales sharply, squeezing you tighter. His lips play at your ear. “I’m sorry for that too.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It kinda is.”

“Addiction is a disease, Frankie.”

He huffs, never accepting that response. He feels guilty. He feels responsible for getting hooked on coke, putting you through hell and back.

“If I never-”

“If you never- we wouldn’t be here. We wouldn’t have met. We wouldn’t have Layla.”

Frankie sighs, dropping his forehead into your shoulder. You feel the hot tears slipping down your neck. Kissing his head, you thread your fingers through his thick brown curls. Something else is waging war inside him and you think he may finally tell you.

“I think I almost died tonight.”

Your fingers still. Frankie pulls back so that he can look you right in the eyes. The moonlight flickers off of them in your favorite way. “What happened?”

Frankie shakes his head. “Nothing. I looked at that alley for so long tonight. I just had a feeling that if I went in, there was no coming back.”

Your heart clenches in your chest. You’ve felt it too, the boulder hanging over your heads, like a sixth sense. If Frankie slips again, there’s no coming back, and relapse has felt so close.

He clenches your pillow in his fist. More tears pour from his eyes. “And what’s worse is the only thing that kept me from it was that damned cat.”

You thumb away one of his tears. “I don’t think that’s true, Frank.”

“I was about-”

“And how long did you sit there before the cat showed up?”

“I don’t know. An hour, maybe two. It took me just as long to catch the cat.”

You stifle a laugh, caressing his cheek. “He might’ve given you a reason to walk away, but I don’t think that cat is the only reason you didn’t relapse tonight.”

“We need to do a better job at talking.”

You nod. “Agreed.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep checking my hiding spots.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “You know about that?”

“Yeah,” Frankie nods. “And I don’t blame you either.

You stare at him for a moment. His eyes seem clearer today than they have in months. He’s warm against you. He’s home, and he’s your Frankie.

“Will you tell me what happened in Colombia? What really happened?”

He sucks in a breath, rolling onto his back. His hand travels to the meat of your thigh. He squeezes and rubs as if he’s self-soothing. “Please don’t leave.”

It comes out just above a whisper. Your heart clenches. This is why he won’t talk about it. Not because of the trauma, but because he’s scared you’ll walk away from him after. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

He takes in a long breath, holding it, and then releasing it. Then, he recounts it all until the sun is peeking through your bedroom windows.

As predicted, Layla is obsessed with the kitten the moment Frankie brings him out. You give him a bath before you let her touch him, treating him with flea and tick medication Frankie grabbed from the grocery store that morning.

Once he’s bathed and treated, the three of you sit on the kitchen floor for hours with the newest member of your family. You’re exhausted and you see the same in Frankie from not sleeping the night before, but your daughter is enthralled by the kitten as the two of them stay occupied with an old shoelace. Nap time is a long way off.

Layla throws a fit to get the kitten to take a nap with her, but you stand firm. He needs at least 24 hours for the flea medication to do its job. You and Frankie fall into sun-soaked sheets once she’s down. Your eyes drift close immediately and Frankie pulls you flush against him.

“Kitten needs a name.” He mumbles.

“Never said it was staying.”

“Ya didn’t need to.”

“You name him. You’re the one who brought him home.”

It’s quiet for a second. Your brain slips further into darkness.

“Cocaine.”

“What?”

“His name. I went into the alley to find Cocaine and I found him.”

You sit up, eyes bleary, but sleep the furthest thing from your mind now. “Our three-year-old daughter is not going to yell out for Cocaine, Frankie.”

His chest shakes with laughter, a smile dancing on his lips. “C’mon. It’s cute. She can call him Coke.” You cross your arms across your chest. Frankie sees none of it, eyes still closed. “... or Coco. That’s cute.”

You huff. Frankie still doesn’t seem to notice but pulls you back down against him instead. “Said I could name him, babe.”

“She’s not calling him Cocaine.”

You fall asleep to Frankie’s deep chuckle.

To Layla, he’s Coco. Frankie calls him a rotation of things like Coke and Cokey, his actual name, and sometimes Little Shit. You call him Crack from the way he zooms through the house at all times of the day.

Layla is obsessed with her newest little pal, always wanting him to be in her room or bed, or to take him to the grocery store, but he spends the nights curled up in your bed – usually around Frankie’s legs.

The times that little Cocaine Morales isn’t flying through your home on a fruitless hunt, he’s curled up somewhere. If Frankie is home, you can find him on his lap, or riding his shoulder. You know he’s much more than a cat to Frankie.

You like having him too. He’s brought joy into your home. It’s a joy that had become rare- only showing up for Layla’s milestones and sparing minutes. You know it’s not just Cocaine. It’s what he represents. He’s a marker for the night things changed for the better.

You and Frankie are talking about it all, the nightmares, the demons. Something that’s been absent for too much of your relationship. You both have begun to seek out help, separately and together. You don’t check Frankie’s hiding spots anymore. The deep, swelling love you’ve always had for him once again bubbles over, filling every crack and crevice of your home. Frankie is more present, more attentive. Slowly but surely, ghosts flee one by one.

Layla’s nickname for the kitten dies the moment Uncle Ben walks into your Labor Day cookout. From the moment on, she spends her time calling out for Cocaine. Her plethora of uncles are a gaggle of hidden chuckles and mischief each time. You shoot glares their way, but you can’t help but find it just as cute.

This thing that nearly tore your family apart, is now something you laugh about bundled into a cute little ball of black fur. The catalyst for things getting better.

There are still dark days, but they’re few and far between. While the thoughts play through Frankie’s mind from time to time, he never returns to the alley.

[athanza]

Starlett - Final part

Cooper Howard/fem!OC (not self-insert)

Tags: Hurt/comfort (sort of?), non-allowed romantic connection, lots of tention, pre and post war drama, romance, some fluff

Warnings: Mentions of domestic abuse (no graphic scenes or descriptions of that nature), angst, canon wasteland violence

This branches out from canon but I thought it was a cute story idea so I had to write it. Enjoy! ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

2077

That night, after dinner, Irene found Cooper on the sofa with Janey asleep on his lap, watching an old noire film with the volume down low.

"Thank you very much for dinner Mr. H- Cooper." She corrected herself, speaking low so as not to wake Janey. "It was lovely."

He looked up as she walked over. "It was no trouble at all. Janey loved having you here."

She smiled at his daughters sleeping face as she sat down on the edge of the sofa. "You've got a good kid there."

He looked down at her proudly. "Yeah, I sure do."

"She reminds me of my baby sister, she lives with my folks in Sacramento. I don't get to see her much anymore with my work and everything with Frank and Lee. It'll be good to see her again."

"How long has it been?"

"Almost 2 years. I know my sister resents me for how much I'm away, but hopefully that'll change now that I'll be away from Frank, at least until the divorce proceedings." She sighed with uneasiness.

"You'll be fine." Said Cooper encouragingly. "You're stronger than you think."

"Ditto." She smiled warmly. "And don't worry about Janey, you both love her so much. She'll understand when she's older, I promise."

He smiled, touched by her words. "Thank you."

She looked into his eyes and saw something she never had, a good man, a man who loves unconditionally and stands up for his family.

She, just for a moment, imagined what it would be like if he was her husband instead of Frank, if Janey were their daughter, if this was her life and not the daily abuse she had been going home to every night.

She could feel emotions begin to well behind her eyes and she snapped out of it before she embarrassed herself.

"Well, I should get some sleep, I'll be leaving early tomorrow. Thank you again."

The warmness that emanated from her was a welcome comfort in the midst of everything that had happened in the last few months. He almost didn't want her to leave, but he couldn't let himself fall, not now, not for her. They were meant for another time, another world, not this one.

"Irene?" Said Cooper, stopping her before she left. "This whole thing with Vault Tec...something's happening, something I'm not sure we'll ever come back from.

You're free from it now. Whatever's coming...it won't be worth giving up your happiness."

What he said about Vault Tec concerned her, not that it was surprising, but he was right about her happiness, he was right about everything. She wasn't going to be held back any longer.

"Thank you." She said, smiling softly.

2296

The sky was still dark when he left the cave. He'd covered Irene with whatever he could find to try to conceal her from raiders, hoping nothing else would find her while he was gone.

He knew there was a clinic in this area somewhere but whether it had anything left in it was a gamble.

As he made his way hastily through the area, he couldn't stop thinking about her and it just made him angry, 219 years of trying to become the monster that he had to be in order to survive, only for her to show up and remind him of that warmth that he'd long since forgotten. It made him weak, but he couldn't let her die, not now.

He heard movement up ahead, two men laughing drunkenly as they stumbled to find somewhere to relieve themselves.

Raiders.

The cages and skewered bodies around the building were a dead give-away and their little base just happened to be the clinic he was looking for.

Jackpot. They definitely had a stash in there somewhere.

The two men separated to find somewhere to piss but just as one got comfortable, Cooper blast his head off and took the other one out just a split second later.

"Oh HELL no!" Came a voice from the doorway of the clinic.

Without hesitation, Cooper shot him too, a bloody mess left on the door frame behind where he had been standing.

He stormed inside, his pump-action shotgun in hand, willing to use up all of his ammo to get what he needed.

Bullets and wood chips were flying every which way, and he took a bullet or two, but it took him no time at all to obliterate every person in that building.

He searched hastily for supplies, and when he found a first aid box full of stimpaks and cotton thread, he grabbed it and left, picking up several blood packs on his way out.

2077

The next morning, Irene was up early, her bag already in her car when Cooper came out to meet her.

"You weren't kiddin' about leavin' early." He said, the clock in the hallway reading 7:12am.

"I thought it'd be best if I left earlier rather than later."

He knew why. He didn't argue.

"Give this to Janey for me, would you? I noticed she liked it and I know it'll be in good hands."

She handed Cooper a silver locket with a daisy engraved delicately on the front.

He looked at it a bit surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I don't much care for it anymore. It'll be more appreciated with her." She smiled.

She did one last check of her purse to make sure she had everything and the tention in the air was starting to thicken. When she knew she had everything, she looked back up at him.

"Cooper?" She asked. "Do me a favour and don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak, always remember that, ok?"

She leant forward and kissed his cheek. "See you 'round cowboy."

She smiled at him one last time before getting in her car, and as he watched her drive away he felt his heart ache a little. He would miss her, her warm smiles, and how she made Janey laugh, but it wasn't meant to be, and he knew that.

2296

He pulled off the foliage covering her now pale body and opened the case.

Her breathing was shallow and laboured, a puddle of blood underneath her that had started to coagulate.

He used one of the stimpaks, then another, then another until he had used all six, then pulled out the thread and started sewing up the deep gashes on her side that were sticky with blood.

He remembered the last time he saw her, her smile, the kiss. He remembered watching her drive away and wishing she hadn't. He remembered the last things she said to him.

"...don't let the world harden that heart of yours, ok? That part of people is important, even if it makes us feel weak..."

When he finished sewing, he hung up one of the blood bags and attached the long tube to her arm.

He was still and focused, hoping he wasn't too late, his hands now covered in her blood.

When she woke up after only a few minutes, she saw him sitting by the fire beside her and smiled sleepily.

"Hey there cowboy."

The End

[rowiewritesstuff]

I liked reading your Adam x Physic reader and I was wondering if you are going to make a part 2 or something if you're comfortable

will edit soon

TW: Mild Gore, Slight vomiting, a lot of death, misogyny/hate, Adam being not awesome and swag

Will have mild gore- just something you see. Nothing too descriptive. A lot of dead people.

Yandere Adam Pt 2

It had been a year since you were forced to stay in heaven with that bastard. You hated him with everything in you- and yet you knew you had to stay with him to keep your friends safe. One day, you overheard your guards talking about the hotel being destroyed- and you were horrified. 

You decided you would have to see for yourself- surely your friends would have escaped safely, right? You waited and learned the schedules of your guards, waiting for the best opportunity to flee. When they were switching shifts, you made your move.

You ran through the halls of your prison, trying to find the portal to hell. You pulled in desperation on the long robes you wore, trying to get them out of your way. You couldn’t afford to lose time to a stumble. Adam had always wanted to dress you up in his clothes, but the silky white garments were always far too big on you.

Your eyes lit up as you saw the portal-- you were always forbidden from going down here, but for some reason, there weren’t any guards in sight. It was strange-- you could have sworn they’d keep at least a small handful of them for something so dangerously important.

You snuck quietly towards it, making sure to stay low and as out of sight as you could. You could hear shouting in the distance- it was clearly Adam. He was definitely pissed you had escaped. You took a deep breath and jumped through the portal into hell.

You woke up with a groan. Your body hurt like hell. Something squishy was below you. You peered down, only to scream in terror. It was a pile of dead demons- their bodies stacked up in an unruly mess. You quickly climbed down, wiping your hands on your now crimson-stained robes. You became nauseous, using the wall to guide you as you dry heaved. You’ve seen death before- but this isn’t just death. This is a genocide. It’s horrific. Nothing you could do could stop the contents of your stomach from rising up. After heaving the contents of your guts, you take a deep breath and keep moving in an effort to find your way to the hotel. 

You notice the town doesn’t look the same. It’s destroyed and smells terrible- more so than usual. The bodies seemed to be never ending- you had yet to find a demon alive yet. You walked through, trying not to panic. What happened here? How could this happen in just one extermination? 

You finally saw it- the hotel. The once beautiful building was now just crumbles of wood and concrete. You ran to it, desperate to find your friends. 

“CHARLIE?! VAGGIE?!” You screamed out the names of everyone- and yet no one’s here. You scrabbled weakly at the rubble, trying to find any trace of them.

You froze as you saw a bit of pink and white beneath a large rock. You tearfully tried to shove it off, but you had no such luck. You peered under the rock, hoping against hope to see any bit of life. 

Cold and lifeless eyes peered back at you, the familiar warmth of your friend nowhere to be seen. Then you see another corpse-- a set of arms wrapped around Angel’s waist-- Husker, just as lifeless. You fell onto your knees.

How did this happen? Adam *swore* everyone would live… he promised, as long as you gave him the visions you saw then he wouldn’t touch them. 

You sat there for hours just looking at the remains of your old home. After a while, you couldn’t even shed any more tears. 

Someone behind you clicked their tongue a few times. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“Now just what are you doing down here, sweetcheeks? I thought I told you to stay on our floor of the palace, hm?” He landed next to you, grinning.

“Y…” you held back choked sobs. “You killed them…”

“Yeah, great observation.” Adam mocked you, pinching your cheek. “Good think you’re hot, 'cause’ you’re not too smart.” 

You slapped his hand away in anger. You were furious, tired, disgusted- but most of all you were devastated. Without thinking, you jumped him. You scratched and hit him, even going as far as biting him. 

Adam got irritated when his mask clattered to the ground. You were snatched up by the scruff of your robe, dangling in the air. His golden eyes pierced into yours with fury. “Stop being so hysterical, you’re like my ex-wife.” He snapped. 

Adam manhandled you on the way home, throwing you into the room. You lost all of your privileges, and you now had to wear golden chains. “Look, I’m an angel. I know what’s best for you.”

True Ending (TW: Extremely Dark, read at discretion)

You kicked against him, trying to harm him in any way you could. He sighed, putting his mask back on his face. “If you wanted to see your friends, all you had to do was ask, babe!” He grinned. 

You sobbed and slammed on the doors to the room, begging to be let out. Everyone knew to ignore you- Adam would be pissed if they helped you. All you could do as weeks passed is sit in the room with the corpses of your dead friends.

[missadmyre]

INDIGO SKIES

After fighting a mysterious force he has never fought before with someone who he ALSO doesn't know, Danny finds himself stuck in a situation of figuring out what to do to his unconscious partner. What ghosts would he fight eventually? Is there more of them? Who IS this kid that calls himself the "Ninja"? The story of how the Ninja and the Phantom first met.

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

The fight between that Yokai ghost was difficult, Danny had to admit. It was thanks to the ninja that he had broken the stalemate. With the ghost being on the thermos, he was about to go back to his house when he noticed the ninja's physical state, bloody and bruised.

Normally, these were things he gets everyday, and he knows that the ninja is more than capable of taking care of himself, that he can prove because of their time together, but to see his partner way more injured than he's supposed to, it struck something in him.

He flew to the ninja, who backed himself to the wall, holding his wound so it wouldn't bleed out. It had been a tough fight for him, getting flung around and all that, "Hey ninja, you need help?" Danny asked, reaching his hand out to him. The ninja tried to even out his breathing, he wanted to answer, but he couldn't even mutter out a single word.

He was about to straighten up and reach out when he saw black dots blocking his vision, the world spinning as he let himself fall. He expected the cold hard concrete pavement when he felt a pair of hands hugging him tightly, his face touching some sort of elastic fabric. He tried to open his eyes but his consciousness was starting to slip away, at least he didn't pass out on the floor, even if the guy who holds him is still cold to the touch.

Danny freaked out when he saw the ninja fall, he was able to quickly grab him and let the guy fall asleep on his chest, knowing from experience that it's hard to wake a person who was probably working on andrenaline the whole time. He couldn't leave the guy on the streets so they flew themselves back to his house.

It was 2 in the morning, thankfully it was Saturday so he didn't have to half-ass his treatment for the ninja. He settled the teen down and let himself turn back into his human form.

Getting his med kit that he often uses from under his bed, he tried to remove the stupid suit off the Ninja but it wouldn't budge. "How and why the hell can't I take this shit off!" Danny grunted, giving up. He moved on to the Ninja's face, which he guessed would have a lot of blood since he was always flung around during the fight.

He lifted the Ninja's mask and removed it, causing a red glow which made Danny step back. Black strips slithered away from the limbs of the ninja as his suit began to tear itself away from the ninja and into the void. The Ninja, now revealing themselves as a teen, made Danny a bit shocked but shrugged off the information.

"800 year old my ass, I suppose we both have the same issues don't we?" Danny muttered, a smirk on his face as he knows some struggles of being a teen hero. A sigh escaped from his lips as he grabbed alcohol and bandages from his kit, maybe he should reveal his secret to the kid, just to even it out.

Randy woke up, fluttering his eyes to make his vision clearer, he carefully sat up, scanning the room. It definitely wasn't his room, nor was it Howard's, whoever kept him here must have been some sort of scientist or something due to the metal scraps and weird cylindrical things scattered on a desk near him.

"This room must've been Viceroy's." Randy thought, fear rising in him as he tried to get out of bed. He fell down, causing a large thud on the floor, he tried to stand up, his legs wobbling as he tried walking as fast as possible.

He reached the doorknob and was about to open it when another person entered the room. This caused randy to fall down to the floor again, as he backed himself away from the person before him.

Danny heard a loud thud coming from his room, he went straight to the room and saw the teen backing himself away from him. Danny knew the kid was panicking so he took it upon himself to at least calm them down. "Hey kid—" he found himself kicked on the face, hard. He held his jaw to soothe the pain as the kid sped up to him.

The kid tried to punch him but he blocked it, he held both the teen's wrists, "Kid calm down!". Danny tried to get some sense to the kid who then shouted back, "Who are you? Viceroy's assistant?". Danny was confused, must've been one of this kid's enemies he supposed, he then answered "Look, I don't know who that guy is!".

Randy wasn't having it with the teen's reply, with a knee kick to the guts, he was free from their grip and was about to go out when he realized that he didn't have the Ninjanomicon, as well as the mask. He frantically looked around the room and saw the Ninjanomicon and the mask sitting beside a TV.

With andrenaline fueling Randy, he ran towards the said TV, to which Danny noticed and chased after him. He pinned down Randy, who turned around making him face the teen. "I'm not gonna hurt you, calm down!" Danny gritted his teeth as he used his upper strength to grab the wrists of the kid.

He looked at the legs of the kid, he knew he was gonna kick so he used his other hand to pin down the leg that always kicks him. With the grunts and shouts coming from Danny's room, his dad had become worried about what was happening upstairs, his wife, Mrs. Fenton had also been worrying about it. Thinking it was a ghost attack, they ran to their son's room with their weapons.

"Danny! Baby! Are you okay— Oh my..." Mrs. Fenton clasped her hand on her mouth as Mr. Fenton had widened their eyes. It was a very awkward position to say the least, Danny had pinned down Randy who was lying on the floor and had both his legs sticking out to Danny's hips, suffice to say it was a scene that his parents never wanted to see.

Danny nervously tried to explain as he got off of Randy, who took the Ninjanomicon and the mask and hugged it tight, knowing that he can't escape. "D—Dad! Mom! I—I can explain-" Danny stuttered, trying to think of an excuse that could possibly overrule the "I'm having sex with the guy" theory.

His father walked towards him and put his hand on his shoulder, "Son." He sighed before continuing, "I know you love this guy, but you have to not hurry, plan your future, we'll talk downstairs." Danny tried to talk but they left, closing the door on him.

Randy had all rights to be confused, but it was confirmed that the teen was not working for Viceroy. "H-hey, where am I?" He asked, his voice raspy as he hadn't had a drink. Danny looked at him, "Welcome to Amity Park, Illinois kid, what's your name?". Randy then answered with his name as so with Danny and his name.

"You're the one that took me in, so you know I'm the Ninja, right?" Randy asked, it was about time to answer that question. "Yes, and so you know, I'm the Phantom, don't worry, I can keep your secret so long as you keep mine." Danny answered. Forming a bond, they talked a bit about information needed to form a semi-fake story before heading downstairs.

They saw both Mr and Mrs. Fenton, waiting for them at the dinner table, they gulped in nervousness as they both sat down. "So, what is your business with our son?" Randy had to look up to meet up with Mr. Fenton's eyes, scary.

"W-Well, I'm just his friend, nothing else, we were just playfighting when we fell down, j-just an awkward position, that's all." Randy said, Mrs. Fenton quirked up her eyebrows, "Then what's with all that screaming upstairs?". Danny then quickly replied "Well we were fighting about… a game? Yeah, a game, we were fighting about a game." It took off some suspicion, but the Fentons were still eyeing him.

"You don't seem to be from Amity Park, where did you come from anyway?" Mrs. Fenton asked, Danny also looked at Randy, he didn't ask that question earlier. "Uhm, well… I came from Oklahoma but I was travelling to New York, it was getting dark so I decided to stay here. I met Danny at that uhm… burger restaurant and we became friends." Danny was surprised, that was far. Randy lied at the end, knowing that they must keep their secret.

"Oh dear, that's quite far, even for you, does anybody know where you're going?" Mrs. Fenton questioned, her face now showing concern. "Ah my friend Howard knows, besides I've done it a dozen times and nobody notices it, it's fine really." Randy shrugged it off with a lie, hoping that it would get swept under the rug.

"But still, why are you in our son's room?" Mr. Fenton asked after being quiet for some time. "Ah dad, uhm h-he doesn't have a place to stay so uhm… I let him stay here, in my room." Danny tried to get them off the topic, which worked. "Son, we just want you to be safe, you can go back to your room, don't be too rowdy though." His father said, letting them completely off the hook.

The teens both mentally congratulated each other as they went back to the room, closing the door behind them as they sighed in relief. "You're actually from Oklahoma?" Danny was curious as to whether or not it was true, which had been proven that it was when Randy confirmed it.

"Hey, you have a phone or something? If you want, I can share my phone number to you." Randy said, a smile forming on his face. Danny pulled out his smartphone and copied the phone number Randy showed him, dialing to know if he got it right.

Randy's McPhone rang, proving that he got it right. Declining the call, he was about to leave when he realized that his shirt wasn't his, "Oh what the juice?! Danny did you change my clothes?", He said with a blush on his face.

Danny then shot back at him, "You just realized it now?". He pointed at the drawer near his bed, there sits his jacket and his shirt, along with his bag which had all of his clothes still in there. Wait, if the clothes he's wearing isn't his then…

"Oh uhm, you can put that shirt on that basket over there, it's fine." Danny pointed at a basket near the door, as he stood up to fix something.

As they brushed shoulders, Randy noticed that the teen was a bit taller than him, having a more wider and broader shoulder than him and more muscular than him. He found himself blushing as he turned his head away.

He removed the shirt, which was remarkably a bit bigger, the collar sliding a bit off of his left shoulder when he noticed it. He threw it in the basket and wore his shirt, not knowing that Danny was staring at him.

Danny was about to hide his med kit back when he looked at the kid's torso. Although bandaged, there were scars poking out, he was toned and had his pants sliding down a bit that he could see his waist. He puts his hand on his mouth as he whispered, "Hot...".

Randy heard Danny mutter something which made his head turn around, "What?" He asked. Danny is dumbfounded by what he said earlier, blushing because of his statement. "What?! Uhm… nothing!" He shoved the kit back under the bed as he turned away, leaving Randy confused.

With his shirt on him, he then wore his jacket, storing the mask on the inside pockets of his jacket as he puts the Ninjanomicon in the bag, they then left the room and went downstairs.

Heading to the front door, he said goodbye to the Fentons as Danny guided him to the bus station. Randy stepped on the bus and said his goodbyes as he went in and left Amity Park.

Danny sighed, looking at the distance, to say that he didn't feel something would be a total lie, he looked at his smartphone, at least he had some connection with the guy. His stomach growled, destroying his long gaze at his smartphone, maybe breakfast is a much needed distraction.

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

Y'all, the ectoham is so fucking barren it looks pitiful asf. I'll probably post a MIS/NS fic but come on, ectoham has got to have content bro.

But anyways, this fic is also connected to the MIS fic I wrote, every Secret Trio and MIS fic/art I would do are on the same AU. Still trying to think of the name of it though. Thanks for reading.

[avelera]

I saw the IWTV finale early thanks to a kind soul sharing it with me!

A few (spoiler-y) thoughts:

Really interesting how they reimagined and framed the ending of this take on IWTV with Louis and Lestat mourning Claudia together. It feels like Justice For Claudia in many ways, it feels like a fitting homage to the origins of Claudia's character (the dead of Anne Rice's daughter from leukemia as a child), and in general was just a really interesting way to sort of give this closure the book never did and also use it to realistically allow them both to push forward past their toxic and abuse past into a somewhat plausible healed future.

It was also a decent reminder, to me, that these are vampires. These characters live forever. I would not condone Louis/Lestat in real life because life is too short to keep going back to an abusive ex. But these guys are vampires. Do not do as they do. But genuinely 70 years, a human lifetime, is realistically long enough to say, "Hey, we're new people now, we've learned and suffered a lot, we lost our daughter and it was fucked up. Maybe all we have is each other." And make peace with each other on that front.

BUT NOW I'M WONDERING HOW WE GET ROCKSTAR LESTAT - ok because Louis kind of got Lestat's book motivation for becoming a rockstar? The "Fuck you, come find me," to all the other vampires. Lestat I believe only speculates that as Louis' motivation, but they made it canon (or I could be wrong).

But that was Lestat's motivation for HIS book, making Louis and the others come find him. Since that's been solved with Louis coming to find him (lovely little homage to the IWTV movie with him playing the harpsichord) now I'm wondering if Louis is the one who encourages Lestat to become a rockstar and write down his book.

Thing is, it's not totally contradicted by the book. (SPOILERS) TVL does end with a beat where Louis and Lestat reunite and Louis is kind of his groupie for a bit. Moving that up so Louis is part of Lestat's rise is actually a really lovely touch, it gives them a bit more time together before shit goes down, and I could totally see this version of Louis as Lestat's agent since he's shown to have that business acumen.

Now that Daniel is a vampire (OMG OMG OMG MORE ON THAT IN A SECOND) the risk is no longer so bad for him to come interview Lestat and I'm sure he's salivating to do so and Louis would definitely invite Vampire Daniel to do the interview for Lestat's book, since there's no fear for his safety (or at least, not as much) anymore. And Daniel would jump at the chance. It would be a fabulous framing device, Rockstar Lestat with his agent, Louis, inviting Daniel to interview Lestat for his next book AND it means we get Daniel's snark throughout Lestat's story.

OK SO DANIEL BEING A VAMPIRE. Definitely leaves the door open for past AND present Devil's Minion WITH THE ADDED BONUS of Daniel not going insane after he's turned (likely owed to not being turned while still a drug addled young man so, hey, if there was past Devil's Minion where Armand said no, kudos to him for reading the situation correctly that vampirism would drive young Daniel insane but not Old Man Daniel).

I was SLIGHTLY, SLIGHTLY bummed to see Daniel as a vampire without getting to see the whole Daniel/Armand situation but only slightly. There wasn't enough room in the season, it would have been a distraction, and IMO we can now save it properly for its place in either TVL or QOTD, which I bet are going to be Seasons 3-4 or as many as 3-6 if we stick to 2 seasons per book.

A take on Devil's Minion where past and present Devil's Minion are intertwined would be AMAZING and I've got my fingers crossed that's how they do it. Maybe interweave a bit of Vampire Armand.

I don't think/know if we're going to get a full Vampire Armand season BUT I do believe the show is going to pivot its POV lens to say, hey, everyone's got a point of view, everyone's got a reason. At some point, we're going to get more of Armand's POV and why he did what he did because I imagine his version will be different from Louis', just as Lestat's is, that's the whole basis of the show. And in there maybe we'll get some past Daniel/Armand.

Ok this already got away from me but ANYWAY, those are my thoughts for now.

[redflagshipwriter]

WRITING GAME: sentence request Saturday

I'm listing the WIPs I have open for today. Send me a request with the name of one of the WIPs and I'll write up at least 3 sentences on that one and post it for you. I'm posting excerpts from the ones I have open to get things started.

Check Yes To Go On A Date With a Dead Guy Ch 6

“Have you experienced events that could be described as fatal?” Danny read from his notebook. Before Jason could answer he continued, “Do you know the name and species of all your progenitors? Have you ever wondered if you are-” 

Jason held a hand up to ask for silence. He was in the zone on a training module that Barbie had sent to the whole team. He was not going to get any more shit from fucking Tim and Stephanie about being an out of touch old man like Bruce who ran code directly from the 90s.

Hot Ghouls In Your Area ch 10 part 2

Jazz’s roommate Tiffany was fine and all that, but Danny didn’t feel that he was missing out on much when he phased from the stairwell directly into the little ensuite bathroom that connected to Jazz’s bedroom. He could hear quiet conversation from the living room– the TV, maybe? 

But Jazz had clearly locked her bedroom door before she left. Danny made a note that Tiffany definitely wouldn’t be finding him and then he starfished on his sister’s bed. He set an alarm for 1 am with a smidge of guilt. It probably wouldn’t wake her up. Maybe she wouldn’t even stay home for the night, she had a boyfriend, right? Or was she the one with the girlfriend who worked downtown?

Whatever. Danny slept like the dead. In fact, he slept through his alarm and woke up to see 7 messages from Jazz. The one showing on the screen was “DANIEL FENTON Tiffany thinks my bedroom is HAUNTED because someone is snoring in there.”

Halfa Cass Ch 6 Part 2

‘Ouch,’ Tim thought gleefully as Bruce got his constipated expression. Damian was definitely pretending he thought it was admirable to frighten hapless Justice League niceguys. Damian knew better now. Damian even liked Jon Kent, who was basically like a tiny Captain Marvel.

Bruce really should know that. Tim could see the calculations whirring in his mind, weighing the odds of Damian being genuine.

He knew that Damian was a lot better now. That Damian had promised not to stab anyone unless it was absolutely necessary. That Damian had made friends and was less hostile to outsiders.

Bruce wasn’t confident enough that Damian knew better. He gave in. “I will be careful with my tone around him,” Bruce said sullenly. He stabbed at his breakfast.

‘You just got played by a ten year old.’

“Thank you Daddy,” Cass chirped.

Ah well, that’s it then. Game, set, and match. Bruce lifted his face enough to aim his watery i love my kids eyes at her.

[hegoeshardasfuck]

dirty mind

wordcount: 0.7K

tags: sexting, unresolved sexual tension

synopsis: as much he's a good Weapon, he's also a bother sometimes

authors note: written for day 2 of kinktober! might be late to port some of them onto tumblr, but i hope ya'll enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/59395495

Soul should know better than to reach for his phone as he waits for Death to declare his mission, but it's just so boring being a Death Scythe. He doesn't really ever get wielded by Death anyways, just lounges about. No wonder Spirit ended up spending so much time at Chupa Cabra's.

There's nothing to do except sit and wait.

And bother Maka.

He grins as he takes his leave with a dumb excuse of heading off for a walk. Death doesn't care enough to stop him, he never really used Soul anyways. He much preferred his twin pistols even now.

Soul meanders aimlessly until he finds a hidden little corner he's known of for years now. He drops down on the ground and opens up his phone before texting Maka "hey," with a slutty amount of y's.

yeah soul?

mmmmmmmnothing

bullshit

i just cant wait to get home

?

its sooo boring working for DTK these days, death scythe is not a good job

things were better when your hands were on me 24/7

im flattered

at least we still live together, no? god i cannot imagine living apart

itd be awful

yeah you got plans tonight? the usual

nothing?

nada zilch im free if youre free

someones eager

what do you have in mind? the usual actually wait are you teaching rn?

nope kids are all off on missions

okay great the usual being me fucking you hard

how hard?

stars

what happens if i fuck you? what then? you and i both know theres a strap under the bed, one that you looove to ride on

i doubt you could make me see stars

then gimme more to work with make this conversation something to read back on when youre on the job

alright alright well to start off our night i think i'd eat you out strip you down, piece by piece hold your thighs, one in each hand and work my way up i'd bite

how much?

bloody amounts

hot

now, i'd bite alllllll the way up your thighs not stopping for even a second, not even if you gripped my head by then i'd already be deep in your cunt fingers and tongue, one hand on your ass

so we're seated?

im on the ground

like the dog you are

you know i'd bark for you any day of the week

and you're on the edge of the bed my hands are in your hair pulling you closer

right right, im mashed up against you in the pussy having a great time leaving no scraps behind absolutely eating

soul.

getting off track sorry queen where was i......... right im in the pussy you cum once

im a little bit worn clawing into your scalp

i dont mind it at all when i can finally back away to breath i wipe down my lips then im back on you slowly pushing you down to the bed

slowly?

hastily i am hastily pushing you to the bed not slamming you, but im not going slow this definitely isnt our first time

definitely not

so youre down, laid out before me so pretty and i immediately start kissing on you lips, neck, chest, all of it nothing new but i should touch back on old territory

mhm

one hand on the mattress one hand on your leg usually you do the work ride me peg me fuck me itll be different tonight though

oh? you really think so?

i know it i'll take you so slow its agonizing missionary style too youll be begging before you know it if you thought i was a tease before im beyond unbearable now every single inch of your skin is gonna be mine only my hands will truly know it my lips as well i could go for a few rounds as many as you like no time for breaks in between creampied thoroughly by the end of it all i think thats where i'd call it a day lick you clean, make sure you're perfect we could sleep afterwards or watch a movie

you better hold true to this tonight

we'll see if DTK gets a mission for me might be too worn out if he does

youre a fucking tease

and you love it

i know

[vintagegirl01]

Rocking Around the Christmas Tree 🌲 (pt.2)

Jake Lockley x female reader

Summary: This takes place a year following the events of Rocking Around the Christmas Tree (pt.1).

Link for Part 1:

You and Jake are married and now have a baby boy, named Jonas, that’s now 3 months old. With it being his first Christmas, you two have been very excited to celebrate this year.

Currently, you’d been holding Jonas as he sleeps in your arms, standing next to Jake as he put the finishing touches on the tree. Despite Jake not being a super Christmasy person, he wanted your son to have a nice holiday.

“It’s not bad, huh..? At least we’re mostly done with the decorating now..” he spoke, straightening up as he looked at the tree with a critical eye.

You smile at him. “It looks great, baby! Though I feel bad I couldn’t be of much help other than telling you where to put some things.”

He chuckled a bit as you mentioned not being able to help much. He had assured you that you should prioritize Jonas, that he had the decorating covered.

“Don’t worry about that, hermosa” he spoke, walking over to you and giving you a soft pat on the shoulder.

“We made it work. Don’t worry about not being able to help much.” He looked down at Jonas again as he gently smiled down at him. “He was a lot more important.”

“You two are both important to me. My two special fellas.”

Jake moved to wrap his arm around you, pulling you and Jonas a bit closer against him. He let out a small huff before speaking again.

“You’re right. And you’re important to us.”

Jake gently moved a hand to rest on Jonas’ head, gently running it through his small tuft of black-brown hair. “He’s already so damn small… I can’t imagine how fast he’s going to grow up.”

He exhaled heavily, sounding slightly exasperated at the mention of your son growing up so quickly. He was already growing so fast… and he’d be walking and talking before they knew it.

“Yeah… I’m trying not to think about that right now. I want to enjoy this for as long as possible while he’s still so small” he mumbled, moving his other hand to gently run it over your hair.

You smile, totally getting his train of thought. “In the meantime, do you have Jonas’ first Christmas ornament?”

“Oh, yes.” he said as he suddenly remembered something and he reached into the small box of ornaments he had taken out earlier.

He pulled out a white ornament that was a small version of a manger, with ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ written in a small gold script in the corner. “This one, right?”

You nod. “This was too cute for us to pass up for him.”

He chuckled, seeing your excited smile at the ornament he was holding in his hand. He had to admit it was definitely a cute ornament, but he also knew it was appropriate for the son you share.

“Yes…” he said, taking the ornament and carefully holding onto it as he stood in front of the tree. “I think this is the perfect spot for it..”

He searched around for a moment before he found a good spot for it, hanging it in a perfect spot not far from the angel on the top of the tree.

”It’s beautiful.”

He hummed in agreement as he stepped back from the tree, giving it one final look to check for flaws. It seemed pretty good to him.

He walked back over to you and your son before wrapping his arms around your waist from the side, pulling you and Jonas closer to him again.

“Everything looks good. The kid’s gonna love it when he’s awake again…” he mumbled against your ear.

“ Too bad he’ll be too young to remember his first Christmas…”

“I know…” he sighed against your ear before nuzzling his face gently against the side of your head.

He was a bit upset that your son was too young to remember this Christmas, but was also glad. In a way, they could still recreate this Christmas if they wanted…

“But we will.” he said firmly. “We’ll remember for him… and we’ll make next Christmas just as great, if not better.”

You smile. “I would make us some hot chocolate right now but my hands are a bit occupied.”

He chuckled a bit, looking down at your son in your arms.

“Yes, they are a bit occupied..” he mumbled, before gently running a hand over his head again, his palm brushing against yours in the process.

“I’d offer to take him from you, so you can make it… but he seems rather comfortable in your arms, honestly..”

“You can take him if you like. You can spend time with him as I give my arms a break.”

He raised an eyebrow slightly as you mentioned him taking Jonas, seeming a little surprised that you were offering.

“Are you sure..?” he asked, taking a quick glance at your son before looking back at you, a mixture of surprise and hesitance in his voice.

“Baby, we’ve been through this. You’re not going to hurt him. You haven’t before and you won’t because it’s not in your nature.”

Jake huffed gently, knowing that you were right. He had never hurt your son before and he didn’t plan to, but he still didn’t want to accidentally do something wrong.

He took a short exhale to get himself mentally prepared before gently reaching forward to carefully take your Jonas from your arms, being extra careful as he made sure to support his head.

“I’ll be right back. Call me if you need anything. Okay, baby?” You kiss his cheek before heading to the kitchen.

He smiled softly as you placed a little kiss on him before going to the kitchen.

He held your son carefully in his arms, making sure to support his head, before he spoke gently to Jonas.

“Don’t worry… mama’s just going to the kitchen. We’re gonna hang out for a bit…” he muttered, looking down at his son’s sleeping face. As much as Jake knew you were right, he was still incredibly careful while holding Jonas.

A few minutes later, when you come back with the mugs of hot chocolate for you two, you find a cute scene between your two favorite boys. Jake talking to Jonas sweetly as he sleeps as if the boy is up and able to understand him.

You could feel your heart melt a bit as you caught sight of the adorable scene. Jonas was sound, sleeping quietly as your husband sat there, talking to him as if he was actually listening and understanding what he was saying.

You’d have to remember this moment for later, so you could tease him. For now, though, you decided to clear your throat gently to get his attention, holding the mugs of hot chocolate in both hands.

“The hot chocolate is ready. You can put Jonas in the bassinet next to the couch.”

Jake paused as you spoke, being pulled from his conversation and looking over at you as you held the mugs. He nodded and gently held your son for a moment longer, before carefully standing up and walking over to the bassinet.

He held your son closely as he placed him down in the bassinet, making sure to tuck him in and carefully lower his head onto the pillow.

“There we go…” he mumbled, giving him one last look over before turning and slowly walking back to you.

“He looked comfortable with you, you say as you pass him his mug of hot chocolate.”

He hummed a little in agreement as he took the mug of hot chocolate from you, a hand moving to rub the back of his own neck.

“Mhm.. seemed comfortable enough. He didn’t wake up, that’s good…” He glanced back at the bassinet again, making sure your son was still sleeping peacefully.

“He’ll probably sleep for a few more hours�� we’re free until then.” he mumbled, before looking back at you again.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?”

He raised an eyebrow slightly, a small knowing smirk growing across his face as he knew *exactly* what you were thinking.

“And what exactly are you thinking..?” he said, taking a small sip from the hot chocolate.

You give him a smirk.

A few minutes later, you two are on the couch together. Cuddling and watching some Christmas movies as your baby boy sleeps in his bassinet next to you two.

There was a sense of calm and contentment in the air, with the two of you cuddled together on the couch while Jonas slept soundly in his bassinet next to you, his breaths slow and soft.

On the TV, a Christmas movie played, the volume low so it wouldn’t wake the Jonas. Jake had wrapped his arm around your shoulders, keeping you pulled close against him as you leaned against his chest.

The first of many wonderful Christmases. Jake thought to himself.

Taglist:

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