#the others knew they were terrible and didn’t care

[beloveds-embrace]

Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.

So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.

When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.

“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”

Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.

“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”

His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-

“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.

“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“

Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-

You want your damn drink back.

For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.

They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon���s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.

Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.

By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.

Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.

Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.

[literally-loco]

My Boys' Girl (18+)

Pairings: John Price / Simon "Ghost" Riley / Fem!Reader / Johnny "Soap" MacTavish Content Warnings: Voyeurism, mentioned exhibitionism, she/her pronouns used for reader Word Count: 1.1k A/N: Shorter fic this time-I've got a longer one in the works tho! Also-If anyone has any fic suggestions PLEASE tell me and i'll try my best xoxo

———————————————————————— “She wanted to show off for you, Cap.”

————————————————————————

John Price knew what his boys got up to in their spare time. He didn’t have to be told-he saw how they looked at each other, how they’d cuddled up to each other in the back of the van when they thought no one was looking, how they’d instantly look at each other at the mention of an “early finish.” He knew what they got up to. Not that he cared-he loved his lads like they were family. He’d shot enough evil glares at anyone who dared to criticize or gossip about the two. But what he didn’t know was how they’d managed to pick up you. The pretty little thing he’d seen clutching Johnny’s arm when they went to the pub, with the most beautiful eyes. He was happy for his lads-how they’d found home in each other, but God his eyes were drawn to you. Your perfect curves, your breasts (even if it made him feel like a dick), and your eyes. He could envision them looking up at him through those beautiful lashes, lips wrapped around his cock. 

He felt terrible about it. The lads obviously liked you a lot, and you’d been nothing but nice to him. And here he was-fantasizing about you. He’d often find himself getting off to you, wearing whatever tight little dress he’d seen you in. Cock in hand, imagining it was your mouth he was fucking. Nearly every night he’d flick through the selfies he’d gotten from MacTavish, nearly every photo including you. 

And then another notification came through-a photo, as usual. But it wasn’t the usual jokey selfie-which usually included you draped over the lads in some sort of way. This was different. This photo was…new. Evidently Ghost’s hands-based on the glove-tilting your face up by the chin, with your big, beautiful eyes staring into the camera. Eyes lidded every so slightly, with a blissed out look on your face. God you looked perfect. 

He hadn’t realized how long he’d been staring at that picture, his cock already stiffening in his trousers, until the next one came through. He exhaled sharply through his nose, gripping the arm of the chair a lot tighter than he had previously. It was like he could feel all the blood in his body rushing down, as he caught sight of you in the photo. Ass up in the air, face down in the pillow. Ghost’s hands were clearly holding your hands behind your back, and your pussy was barely covered by the lacy piece of string you called a thong. 

“She wanted to show off for you Cap.” The text read, and Price sucked in a breath. His hand swiftly reached down to palm his now painfully hard cock through his trousers. He could just imagine slipping his fingers inside you-finding that sweet spot deep inside you that would make your toes curl. 

His fingers were pressing the call button before he knew what he was doing. 

“Evening Captain. To what do we owe the honor?” Johnny’s voice rang out, sounding slightly too amused with himself.

“Photos, MacTavish. What was up with that?” Price asked, his voice catching in his throat slightly at Johnny’s ever so evil chuckle.

Price swears he can hear the plot in Johnny’s head as he spoke, the soft rustling of the duvet giving away where exactly he was. “Why don’t I put her on the phone for you?” 

————————————————————————

You could barely think-but somehow managed to pull yourself together enough to take the phone off of Johnny. “He-Hey John!” You squeaked out, instantly covering your mouth to conceal the moan that dared to try to escape your lips. Ghost’s hands gripped your hips, fucking into you at such speed you wondered how his knees didn’t give out, with his cock hitting that sweet spongy part deep inside you. 

“Heard you wanted to show off for me, love?” His voice rumbled through the phone, dark and smooth like a good whiskey. That teasing tone, the soft chuckle in his words, it was enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Go on then. Talk to me.”

At that, Ghost picked up the pace, hands gripping the flesh of your hip so tight you were sure it would leave bruises. “Is he making you feel good, love? Making your legs shake?” You inhaled a strangled gasp, biting your lower lip slightly. 

“Asked you a question.” Ye-ah-” You whined, bucking your hips back against Ghost. Something about having Price on the phone, with Ghost fucking you like his life depended on it, and Johnny watching from the corner-it felt so dirty. But so good. “Need-need to cum-” 

“I know you do, love. Gonna cum for me?” Ghost’s hands found your clit, earning a string of moans out of you. “Yeah she is-can feel her squeezing around me. So fucking tight-and wet-” Ghost’s thrusts grew staggered, his hips slamming into yours. You didn’t care to be quiet anymore, there was no point. 

————————————————————————

John already knew what was going on. He’d known before he’d called. He knew when he called that you’d be on your back-but he hadn’t expected to be listening. It felt dirty. But God the way your sweet little moans had him gripping his aching cock, and his head tossed back over the chair. Bucking his hips up into his hand, imagining he was fucking your soft little cunt. “Gonna cum for me?” He’d asked-and the gasps and moans he got in return had him gasping for breath. 

“I know you need it, love.” He murmured into the phone, trying his hardest not to cum before you. “Be a good girl and cum for me.” He needed to hear you cum. To hear those gorgeous gasps as you came on his Lieutenant’s cock, imagining he was the one balls deep inside you. “Come on, love, cum for me.” 

And the shuddering moans he received was enough for him to spill over his hand. Panting heavily-he was barely aware enough to hear Ghost’s cursing gasps as he followed. 

“Enjoyed the show then, Captain?” Johnny’s voice was back, sounding equally out of breath as the rest of them. “Should’ve seen it in person-she played such a good girl when you got on the phone.” His words sent another shudder down his back.

“You knew then?” 

“Had a hunch. Couldn’t keep your eyes off of her.” Price groaned as his hand-the clean one-came up to cover his face. He’d been that obvious. The whole time. 

“Don’t worry lad-she’s already eager to see you again. I’m always down for a good show-and Simon’s pretty interested in seeing how she’d take both of you.”  Well shit. The next pub meet was going to go very well for him.

[silhouetteonpaper]

Late

Summary: Wanda was supposed to come back from her mission hours ago. She was never this late, and you were beside yourself with worry. When she finally shows up, something completely unexpected is waiting for you... Wanda Maximoff x Reader WC: 961 Warnings/Themes: fluffy! A/N: Because of everything going on, I thought a cute lil fluffy fic was in order. Enjoy, I love you all, please take care of yourselves! <3

The phone rung 6 times, each trill sending another wave of anxiety through you as you waited for the person on the other end to pick up. Voicemail. The woman’s voice instructing you to leave a message quickly silenced as you hung up. You’d called Wanda five times, texted her seven, and even paged her work device. There was no response.

She had told you she’d return from her mission this morning, but the sun was now setting and your worry was increasing. It was unlike her to get back from a mission this late, at least without prior warning. You would usually receive a ‘running behind’ message or a quick phone call alerting you when she would be back. But this time, twelve hours had passed with no communication.

You didn’t usually worry a whole lot when Wanda was on regular missions, because the team was usually by her side. This time was different, though. She had to go solo, leaving you extremely on edge at the idea of her not having backup. Wanda was more than capable of handling herself, but you knew the dangers of not having agents around when things went south.

Not to mention, she had already been gone for a week—you missed her dearly. After having been together for over a year, you had gotten used to having her around with the occasional mission here and there. This one was extra long, forcing the suspense of her solo excursion to only build as you waited.

In your impatient and concerned state, you turned to the nearest team member at the compound to pester about any details concerning your girlfriend. “Tony,” you strolled into the kitchen, your victim occupied with making an evening cup of coffee. “Any updates on Wanda?” It wasn’t the first time you asked him about her mission today, and he had the same answer as before.

“Nothing yet, but I promise you’ll be the first to know.” He shrugged, his lack of concern almost infuriating. Why weren’t they doing everything possible to make sure she was alright? Why hadn’t they sent in a team of agents for backup already? You sighed out of frustration, leaning over the counter as you felt your heartbeat race.

Tony abandoned stirring his coffee to glance at his phone, a single notification buzzing on the marbled counter. He glanced at you, quickly typing something out; you were too caught up in your anxiety to notice. “Actually,” He started, your head popping up. “Wanda should be arriving out front any minute.” You released a deep breath out of relief, but not all worry was lost. Was she injured? Would she be in terrible shape? Tony could see your increasing concern, so he offered you a new option. “You can go wait for her on the tarmac.”

You offered him a quick smile before running down the halls of the compound, through corridors and rooms all the way out to the front of the building. The cool night air soothed your irregulated temperature, each soft gust of wind aiding you in taking another breath. But instead of seeing a jet landing on the tarmac, something completely different was spread in the grass right in front of you.

Wanda—unharmed and content, was sitting on a blanket with candles filling the center; scattered among them was a bottle of wine and some baked goods. You froze, watching her grin form as she stood. “Hey,” She sounded so calm in comparison to your freak out only a moment ago. “I’m sorry about all of that… I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

You met her gaze, eyes wide with disbelief. Instead of getting mad, making her feel even worse for how much she made you worry, you jumped into her arms. You didn’t care if she ignored your texts and calls all day, you were just happy to see her. Wanda chuckled, wrapping her arms around you tightly in the excitement. You could finally take a real deep breath, fully relieved now that you were in Wanda’s arms.

Pulling away, she watched as you admired the picnic she worked diligently to set up. “How did you…? When did you get back?” You questioned, unsure how she pulled this off. Her eyes wandered as she evaded admitting her plan.

“I got back late, I really did,” She placed her hands on your hips, keeping you close. “I felt bad and wanted to set up something special. But I knew it would be hard to surprise you once you saw I was home.” Wanda’s explanation made sense, it was sweet really. You didn’t mind that she wanted to surprise you, you were only worried something went wrong.

“Wait,” You suddenly remembered your interactions with the team throughout the day, how they brushed off your questioning like it was nothing. “Was everyone in on it?” Wanda smirked, nodding as she admitted guilt. Of course everyone was in on it, they’d never be so relaxed about a stranded agent. If only your anxiety hadn’t clouded your judgement, maybe you would have been able to pick up on their sneaky planning.

“You were worried sick, weren’t you?” Wanda cooed, moving her hand toward your cheek. You chuckled, pulling her in for another hug.

“If only you were here to see. I’m just glad you’re here now.” You stated, letting her guide you onto the blanket. She had prepared a large spread of delicious looking treats, from the brownies to the cupcakes to the array of chocolates. You dug in, occasionally glancing up at Wanda to exchange a smile or even a kiss. Under the deep blue blanket full of stars, you were happy to be back home with Wanda in the comfort of her arms.

[totallyjustabunchofhocuspocus]

Fic: Something to Sink Your Teeth Into 19/?

Can I offer everyone some distraction and escape tonight? If you have sent a prompt to my inbox, I will get on those tonight and tomorrow. Just wanted to get a longer offering up as well. It's going to get worse before it ever gets better. Do what you have to do to stay safe, and try to do good where you can. I pray for better days ahead.

Pairing: Buck/Tommy

Vampire/Witch!AU

Read on AO3

From the moment Tommy’s coven master stepped into the house, Evan could tell he was powerful.

Not as powerful as Tommy. Not as old as Tommy, either…but definitely not a new vampire. Something about the way he carried himself gave Evan the impression that he was used to being listened to. Obeyed. His dark eyes zeroed in on Evan as he made his way to Tommy’s living room, and even with no fangs visible, Evan absolutely received the message that this man would neither hesitate to kill him, nor feel an ounce of guilt over it. It should have been terrifying. And make no mistake, Evan was wary.

But he wasn’t afraid.

His magic hummed in the back of his mind, strong and ready to use to defend himself. Even if he had not recovered from the effects of using the teleport spell, though…Tommy wouldn’t let anything happen to him.

The knowledge settled in his mind, startling in its surety. Its absoluteness. Tommy wouldn’t let any harm come to him. Evan knew that.

He did not know how he knew that, or why it felt like such an immutable, inarguable fact. It was an insane thought to have. Sure, Tommy had put himself between Evan and danger several times already, but what possible reason could Evan have for thinking that he’d continue to do so? Against his own coven master, no less? He didn’t have one…and yet he was so completely confident in the belief that he met the vampire’s eyes squarely, his magic swirling contentedly through his body.

He listened as Tommy argued back and forth with his coven master, tensing as Alonzo revealed that the vampires were already spreading rumors about what had happened in Greenway’s office. He’d known in the back of his mind that the men who’d attacked them weren’t likely to just ride off into the sunset, never to be heard from again…but the high coven had seemed the larger threat.

He couldn’t even really blame this Alonzo person for asking Tommy to get rid of him, to turn him over to the high coven and just cut his losses. Hadn’t Evan been begging Tommy to do just that before Alonzo appeared? It was the smart play—the only play that could possibly keep Tommy and his coven out of this.

God, he wanted to give Tommy a way out of this.

“I’ve been on my own before. I can manage. Just do what I said before…let me leave and have your coven master lodge a complaint with the high coven. Tell them I spelled you. I don’t—I don’t know what to do about the vampires, but at least that’ll get my people off of your coven.”

“Well. I wasn’t expecting you to be the voice of reason. Listen to him, Thomas. We don’t have a lot of time to go with that story—not even a powerful witch could control you for very long.”

Evan ignored Alonzo, staring at Tommy as he seemed to consider their words. He wasn’t sure how this whole mess was going to end. He hoped Grant and her coven could find what they needed to in time to avoid a coven war…but Evan knew better than most the kinds of things that powerful covens could get away with when they wanted to. He wasn’t terribly confident. He just knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t do everything in his power to give them the chance.

He thought Tommy felt the same way. Like everything else about the vampire, it seemed a ridiculous thought to have. Three days ago, would have laughed out loud at the idea that a vampire could care about innocent people dying in a coven war. But he’d seen firsthand how much Tommy cared about his coven. Despite the horrible way they’d come into each other’s lives, Tommy had been nothing but honest with him. Honorable. Kind.

Protective.

He wasn’t an idiot. And he wasn’t naïve. Tommy had killed people. More people than Evan could probably conceive of, given how old he was. But Evan didn’t think the vampire was faking the disgust he seemed to feel for the wanton violence and cruelty of the party he’d rescued Evan from. He didn’t think Tommy was faking his desire to get to the bottom of whatever was going on in the city. Something inside Evan told him that Tommy wanted to stop what was coming just as much as Evan did.

The difference was, if Evan died in this storm they’d somehow entered into, the collateral damage would be minimal.

Sally had cut ties with him.

His parents had never cared for him to begin with.

Maddie probably thought he was already dead…or had abandoned her.

There was no one left to care if he died, but Tommy had a whole coven who would mourn him. Hell, Evan had interacted with them for less than two hours, but he could tell how close Tommy was with the two vampires who had come to the loft. There was no reason for Tommy to go down this road with him when there were so many people who would be hurt if Tommy got himself killed. He knew Tommy wouldn’t stand for just turning Evan over to the high coven, but letting him go and then taking a story about Evan casting a compulsion over Tommy to them was the absolute best move that Tommy could make. For his coven. For himself.

“I can’t do that.” The vampire’s voice was clear. Steady. Not a hint of doubt or hesitation in the words. Tommy’s eyes bored relentlessly into his, his back ramrod straight as he refused, refused the out Evan was offering him. “Evan, whoever is orchestrating all this, I’m not leaving you to face them down by yourself.”

And…what? Evan startled, barely managing to keep his mouth from falling open in shock. Wait—wait, no, he couldn’t have heard that correctly. That made no sense. That was—

“Thomas, are you insane? You can’t be serious!” Tommy’s coven master sounded as shocked as Evan felt, the cool, calm demeanor he’d been affecting since he entered the bungalow cracking.

He started to pace back and forth, his movements quick and agitated, and Evan tucked one hand behind his back, clenching his fist and focusing on his magic the way Sally had taught him, drawing it tightly inwards, ready to spring forth at his command. No witch was powerful enough to cast without the structure of a spell…but thanks to Sally’s lessons, Evan could cast faster than most.

Tommy stepped deliberately between them, facing his coven master, and Evan felt a flush of warmth he couldn’t even try to deny. Alonzo’s next words, though, were like a bucket of ice water being poured straight down Evan’s spine.

“If you do this, then I’ll have no choice but to disavow you. Sever our alliance.”

He gasped. He knew he gasped, the soft, breathy sound of it punching out of him entirely without his permission. No. No, Alonzo couldn’t be suggesting what it sounded like he was suggesting. And even if he was, there was no way that Tommy would—

“Exactly,” Tommy said. His voice was still so steady, so sure. As though he was talking about something as minor as changing the paint color in his living room or what he might make for dinner and not…not…

Tommy and his coven master continued speaking, but Evan couldn’t make out the words over the buzzing in his ears. He felt frozen, stopped, his mind swarming with memories and feelings that he hadn’t been able to bring himself to examine in years. The blood pounded in his head, his focus on his magic splintering. No. No, Tommy couldn’t—he wouldn’t…

“Thomas. You’ll be convenless.”

“I’ve been covenless before.”

Covenless. There were a thousand other meanings for that word, and Evan had lived every one for the last five years.

To be covenless was to be nothing. Less than nothing. When Evan had been banished from his coven, he’d lost everything. His home, his family, his familiar. His future. His identity. Everything that made him who he was had been stripped from him, and he’d been left to rebuild himself from fucking scratch…only he’d never be able to. Not really.

To be covenless was to be alone. Completely alone. Unwelcome in every corner of the world you’d thought would be yours forever, unwanted and uncared for. Evan had lost his coven bonds and he’d become a ghost. He’d lost everything when he lost his coven. How could Tommy just give it up?

Why…why would he do something like that for him?

Evan watched in frozen, horrified silence as Tommy did it. Severed himself from his coven. Turned his back on his home, his family, the people he cared for…for Evan. He listened to the oddly formal words—completely devoid of the power that he’d felt when the Pennsylvania high coven handed down his sentence, and yet somehow just as heavy. Just as important. Some part of him tried to remind himself that Tommy had said vampire covens didn’t function the way witch covens did. Vampire covens were alliances, not bonds that were formed in blood and magic…but it didn’t matter. Tommy was giving up his coven. For him.

To protect him. He’d said it. He’d said he wasn’t going to leave Evan to face this storm alone.

It was impossible. It was irrational. It made absolutely no sense. He was watching it with his own eyes, and he didn’t understand. He’d given himself up for Maddie. He’d sacrificed everything he ever was or ever would be to keep her safe, to make sure that she didn’t suffer for what she had to do to set herself free from Doug. He hadn’t set out to lose his coven because of it, he’d just known it was a likely outcome. Had Tommy known he was going to do this when his coven master walked through the door? Had he looked at the situation the way Evan had all those years ago, his sister’s heartwrenching sobs ringing in his ears as they stood over Doug’s still body, and made the same choice Evan had in that moment? How? How?

It had been an easy sacrifice for him to make for Maddie. Losing his coven had been the hardest thing he’d ever experienced or ever would experience, but it had been worth it to save his sister. Keep her safe. Protect her.

But…but he loved Maddie. Loved her more than anything else in the world, loved her more than he loved himself.

What motivation did Tommy have to give up his coven for Evan?

Tommy was still for a long moment after his coven master–fuck, his ex coven master, what had he done?—left the bungalow. Evan listened to the sound of the vampire's car start up, still feeling like he'd been encased in a block of ice. Tommy's shoulders slumped slightly as the sound of the car faded down the driveway, growing more and more distant, and he cracked his neck a couple times before turning to look at Evan.

Evan didn't know what his face looked like, but Tommy's immediately softened. It was almost unbearable to watch…Tommy had just made himself covenless, how could he have room to feel sympathy for Evan?

“Evan, remember. Coven bonds aren’t like what you’re used to for us. This isn’t…it doesn’t hurt me,” he said, and his voice was so, so gentle.

As if Evan was the one who needed to be handled carefully, as though Evan was the one hurting. Because he was hurting. Evan knew that without a doubt, knew it the same way he’d known that Tommy wouldn’t let his coven master hurt him—it was a quiet certainty, a solid as stone beneath his feet. He felt suddenly sick, too hot and too cold at the same time. His heart pounded in his chest, his magic thrumming through him insistently, and he shook his head.

“Why…” He broke off, suddenly unable to meet Tommy’s eyes, and swallowed hard. “Why did you do that?” he managed to choke out, his voice sounding alien to his own ears.

Tommy tilted his head slightly, a stepped toward him, closing the distance between them until he was right in front of him. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he said, as though that were an actual reason to leave his coven, to voluntarily give it up.

Evan shook his head again, his head still spinning. “That doesn’t make sense!” he burst out. “Tommy, you’re gonna get yourself killed!”

Infuriatingly, Tommy’s lips twitched into a smile, and he reached up to lay his hand on Evan’s shoulder. There was no heat from the touch, of course, and yet Evan swore he could feel the shape of Tommy’s hand on him like a brand. His magic sparked through him, swirling in his chest like champagne bubbles. “I’ve heard that before, Evan. Hasn’t happened, yet,” he said.

“It’s not worth it,” Evan said.

Losing your coven isn’t worth it, Evan meant.

I’m not worth it, Evan meant.

Tommy’s hand loosened briefly, his fingers twitching like he wanted to move them. For a few heartbeats, Evan had the bizarre sense that Tommy was restraining himself from reaching up, brushing the skin of Evan’s throat, skating his fingers higher and higher to touch Evan’s face. Even more bizarre was the pulse of disappointment when Tommy merely patted his shoulder and stepped back, a strange expression twisting his features.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” the vampire said. “Now…are you ready to start this snipe hunt?”

*

“How worried do we have to be about one of those locator spells?” Tommy asked as he guided the SUV onto the highway, heading for the address that his friend Chimney had provided.

Evan blinked, startled out of thoughts that would not stop racing in circles no matter how hard he tried. He was glad for the new topic to focus on, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the window. “Depends. If your, uh, if Alonzo lets the high coven have some of your stuff when he talks to them, it could be a problem. If it’s something you’re really attached to.” He opened his eyes and shot Tommy a sidelong glance. “Do you have a lot of things at your coven house?” he asked quietly.

Tommy chuckled, not taking his eyes off the road. It was hard to get a read on his expression, but he didn’t seem especially upset. “Some. Not as much as you might think someone could collect over eight hundred years. I’ve never really cared about things. Most of what I really give a shit about, I keep at the bungalow. But I can text Sal and Lucy and tell them to hide a few other things at the coven house.”

Evan nodded to himself. “We should have a day or two before it even becomes an issue—and they might not think it’s worth it. It’d be hard to hold a locator spell on a vampire. Most of our really complicated magic doesn’t work so great on you.”

Tommy made a curious hum. “Why’s that?”

Evan shrugged. “No one really knows. Probably for the same reason that you can’t turn witches.” He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. “I can cast a charm that’ll let me know if someone’s trying to spell you,” he offered after a moment. “And disrupt it.”

“Will it be a drain on you? I’d rather you save your strength for when we run into trouble.”

“A disruption? Yeah, that’d be hard for me to keep up for very long…but the alert charm is simple. Sa—someone taught it to me when I was a kid, to help me channel my intentions in a spell. Those kinds of things, losing my coven bond doesn’t really, uh, doesn’t really affect me that much,” he finished quietly. “But it’s still a spell. I, I, I get it if you don’t want me casting anything on you.”

Tommy was silent for a long moment, before he said quietly, “I trust you, Evan. Do I need to pull over?”

“Wait, not? You want me to cast it now?” Evan blinked, the calm certainty in Tommy’s voice when he said he trusted him catching him off-guard. Tommy shrugged one shoulder.

“Might as well. I don’t want to risk getting distracted later—and any advantage we can get is worth taking.”

“Um, okay. Okay, yeah, that makes sense. Uh, no, it—you won’t feel anything. Maybe like, a tingle? But it won’t hurt or anything. I can do it while you’re driving.” He pressed his lips together, considering. “Can I have your hand?”

Tommy startled a little at that, shooting him a quick, bemused look. “Sure?” he said, stretching one hand out toward Evan.

Evan took it, cradling it in his palms and resting two fingers on where Tommy’s pulsepoint should be in his wrist. It was odd not to feel the beat of life underneath his fingers, to trace skin that was oddly cool, blue veins standing out more starkly than he was used to. He leaned over Tommy’s hand and started chanting, his magic all but leaping to his fingertips as he murmured the familiar spell. Tommy kept his eyes on the road, but Evan could sense him shooting quick little looks his way, even as he held his hand trustingly still.

It was strangely intimate. The thought skipped through Evan’s head and was gone as he felt the spell building, his hands beginning to glow with the white light of a witch’s power. He breathed out the last words of the spell and pressed the magic gently into the skin of Tommy’s wrist, a sigil glowing briefly before fading to near invisibility. Tommy shivered as the sigil sunk in, his fingers flexing, but he held still until the light of Evan’s magic faded. Moving slowly—almost reluctantly?—he slipped his hand from Evan’s grasp and looked at the inside of his wrist, his eyebrow twitching upwards minutely.

“That’s it?” he asked.

“That’s it,” Evan confirmed, settling back in his seat and going back to staring out the window. “If anyone tries to cast on you, I’ll know.”

“Thank you, Evan,” Tommy said.

Evan nodded silently, watching the LA scenery fly past the window as Tommy sped towards Greenway’s house. He felt like his brain was spinning as fast as the tires, too much happening for him to really get a grasp on it. He needed to. He couldn’t afford to be spiraling with them potentially heading into a hostile situation. Everything—his confusion and disbelief and, yes, all right, his guilt over Tommy giving up his coven, his worry about what they were walking into, his fear for what could happen in this city if they failed, he had to let it all go. He could almost hear Sally’s voice in his head, chidingly reminding him that he needed to stay focused.

Find an anchor, little love. A single thing to concentrate on and hold onto that, no matter what.

Good advice…but advice he’d struggled to take all his life. He looked over at Tommy again, taking in his profile as he tried to read his stoic expression, tried to figure out what might be running through the vampire’s head. Tommy said he trusted him. After knowing him only a couple of days, Tommy was willing to take risks for him that he wouldn’t have asked of anyone in his coven except maybe Maddie. Had made sacrifices for him that Evan knew down to the marrow of his bones his own parents would never have made. Tommy said he trusted him.

Evan breathed out slowly, his magic ebbing through him in time to his heartbeat. In the face of everything, he let the simple truth that had been trying to form in his mind since Tommy had given up his place in his coven to protect Evan wash over him. He trusted Tommy, too. And that was what he was going to hold onto, no matter what.

*

Jonah Greenway had lived on a surprisingly quiet street in a small, nondescript house that was neither especially nice nor especially run-down. Tommy took a couple of laps around the block in the SUV, trying to scout if there was anybody already there. Evan had been slightly worried that the place would already have been under a police investigation, but credit where credit was due—the SoCal high coven was very good at keeping their world secret.

“Looks clear,” Tommy muttered after the third lap around the block. They’d stopped a few intersections and pulled into and reversed out of a couple of driveways to hopefully make it look as though they were just lost to any nosy neighbors who might notice a large SUV with heavily tinted windows. He pulled to a stop about a block down the street from Greenway’s house.

“Wait—how are we getting you in there?” Evan asked, tipping his head towards the window…and the sun-drenched street outside it. It would have been easier to wait ‘til at least dusk to leave the bungalow, but the need to give Grant and her coven enough time to do their own investigations created a sense of urgency that would not be ignored.

“I can take sunlight for a few minutes,” Tommy said, frowning distastefully and twisting in his seat to dis around in the floor behind him. He sat up a moment later with a large black hoodie and pulled a pair of gloves out of one of the pockets. “Although no offense, I’m gonna walk a hell of a lot faster than you.”

“Dressed like the villain in an after-school special?” Evan asked dubiously, his eyebrow climbing when Tommy pulled his sun visor down and grabbed a large pair of sunglasses clipped to the edge. “Really?”

“If you have a better suggestion, I’d love to avoid the third-degree sunburn I’m about to get.”

Evan debated a moment, drumming his fingers on his thigh and poking at the edges of his magic, feeling out the strength. Then he turned in his own seat, staring hard out the back windshield at the corner of Greenway’s house that was visible. There was a decently-sized porch with a roof, and Evan knew any witch worth his salt would have had look-away charms on his house, though they might have lost power when Greenway died. Still, if that was the case, then any hexes or traps he’d laid on the property would also be defunct, and Tommy would be able to break into the place quickly. Evan felt confident he could handle any hexes that were still active, and short out an alarm system fast enough that it would register as a glitch.

“Try not to move, okay?” he said, reaching over to grab Tommy’s wrist as he focused on the corner of the porch he could see, and chanted the spell.

His ears popped, the whole world going quiet and shadowy, sound muffling almost to the point that he was enveloped in silence. The air around him turned absolutely freezing, colder than any Pennsylvania winter, and as the spell ended he couldn’t help coughing. Beside him, he heard Tommy gasp something in a language he didn’t recognize—though by the tone, he could tell it wasn’t polite—and the vampire scrambled to his feet, his wrist twisting under Evan’s to grab at his hand and yank him to his feet as well.

They were standing on Greenway’s porch, well-shaded from the afternoon sunlight.

“What the hell?! What did you do?” Tommy demanded, looking around him in shock. “That wasn’t the same thing you did at the office!”

Evan laughed shortly, pulling away so he could examine the door in front of them. The fact that no defense spells had triggered when they appeared on the porch was encouraging, but he wasn’t going to just take it on faith that Greenway didn’t have something more powerful than simple charms and hexes waiting. “No—a teleport is major magic even when you have a coven bond. I’m not risking that unless there’s no other choice. I took us through the between.” He reached out and let his hand hover over the doorknob, unable to feel the telltale tingle of magic against his skin.

“The…wasn’t that where Greenway hid the flash drive?”

“Yup.”

“And you can…go…there?” Tommy continued slowly.

“If you know how. Most of us just use it like Greenway did. Like a hiding place. Kind of a magical safe-deposit box? But the between is as big or small as you know it is, and it exists wherever you know it will. So, if you know it’s big enough to fit you, and you know it exists where you want to be, you can get to it.”

“That—okay, that actually makes a weird sort of sense and explains a couple of encounters I’ve had over the years. I haven’t met any witch who could do something like that in a century or two, though.”

Evan shrugged, still examining the door. “Not a lot of us can, anymore. It’s old magic. Like, old-fashioned magic, not, uh, not old as in ancient. It’s easy to get lost in, so it’s not like it’s in the normal, everyday lessons. Sally only taught me because—” He broke off, his brain catching up with the amount of private information his mouth was just casually giving away.

Tommy was silent for a moment. “Sally was your familiar?” he asked gently.

Evan clenched his jaw, before nodding quickly. “I don’t think there’s any kind of spell on the door,” he said. Thankfully, Tommy accepted the abrupt subject change, stepping around Evan to grip the doorknob and give the door a fast, almost casual shove with his shoulder. The deadbolt snapped in an instant, and Tommy stepped back to interpose himself between Evan and anything that might be waiting for them inside.

Only silence greeted them, however.

Tommy cocked his head, listening intently, before his shoulders relaxed. “It’s empty,” he said. “But stay close.” He stepped inside the darkened interior of Greenway’s house. Evan took a deep breath and followed, his eyes roving over his surroundings curiously.

The house was surprisingly…sterile. It had all the trappings of a home—comfortable furniture, plush carpets on the floors, bookshelves full of books and mementos, art hanging on the walls. Yet, the place felt cold to Evan. There was none of the warmth and character of Tommy’s bungalow. The place felt like a showroom or a magazine cover. Everything perfectly chosen and placed to present a picture that it just…wasn’t.

It felt, he reflected wryly, like the house he had grown up in.

“Howie and Grant already searched the place for anything useful, but the high coven hasn’t gotten here yet. We need them to think we’re looking for something, get them to waste resources trying to find it first. Toss the place?” Tommy asked, glancing back at Evan with a questioning look. Evan shrugged, turning a slow circle in the large, open-plan living space that took up most of the first floor. Something felt…off.

“They really didn’t find anything?” he asked, his eyes darting around the room.

“Nada,” Tommy confirmed, watching as Evan looked all around him. “Why? What are you thinking?”

“Nothing, I just…there’s something…” he trailed off, the frustratingly feeling of something just out of his reach dancing at the edge of his senses. His eyes fell on a mirror propped up in the corner of a set of recessed bookshelves that had been built into the walls on either side of a large picture window in what Greenway had set up as his living room. Directly in front of the window was a large, ornate wooden writing desk. Evan tilted his head and followed the line of where the mirror was facing…to another mirror mounted on the wall by the stairs to the second story. The mirror was positioned oddly, slightly off-center of where Evan would expect it to be, just enough to look a little wonky. In fact, if he stood in front of that mirror and followed the line of where it was facing, he would find…

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Evan muttered.

“What?” Tommy demanded immediately.

In answer, Evan spun another slow circle in the center of the room, tracing the sightlines of multiple mirrors positioned all around the room. That was what he was feeling. He hadn’t quite shaken the chill of the between from his senses, after all…and there was quite a lot of the between in this room.

“He hid something else here,” Evan said, finding the mirror that was positioned in the northernmost part of the room and pacing away from it until he was as close to the center of where the sight lines of all five of the mirrors around the living space met as he could get. “Fucking smart bastard, I’ll give him that.”

“Evan, what are you talking about? I’m pretty sure Howie and Grant would have known to look in this between place.”

“Yeah, but they might not have realized how big the between is here,” Evan countered. “Like I said…it’s not something a lot of witches learn anymore.”

Tommy tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest. He looked curious, though, not dismissive. “You keep talking like the size of it can change. Isn’t space…you know, space? Like there have to be boundaries.”

“Ever been in one of those house of mirrors they do at fairs and theme parks?” Evan asked, centering himself and focusing hard. He murmured the appropriate spell and reached toward the desk, the way he had in the office building to find the flash drive. The way he’d—sort of, it was a little more complicated than he’d explained to Tommy—done to get them from the car to the porch to avoid the sunlight. Only this time, he reached further into the between. Through all the layers of it that Greenway had folded it upon itself, over and over, until only a witch or familiar who regularly used it to shift themselves through space and not just store and hide things in would have even realized there was that much of it to explore in this house.

Evan did not travel through the between regularly. It was not something that witches did anymore, the dangers of getting lost too great. But he had been very carefully trained by someone who had learned the art in times when it had been a valuable tool for survival.

His hand closed on something in the between, and he curled his fingers around it and yanked. There was a soft pop in the air, and when he looked at the empty desk again, there was a small, leatherbound ledger sitting innocuously in the center of it. “Gotcha,” he hissed. He hurried forward and scooped the ledger off the desk, pulling at the bands of elastic that bound it at each corner.

“Great work Ev—GET DOWN!” Tommy’s voice changed in a flash, rising to a bellow as he lunged at Evan. Between one breath and the next, Tommy had made it across the room and wrapped himself around Evan, pulling Evan tight against his chest and spinning them around so that Tommy’s back was to the window.

There was a loud sound of shattering glass.

The clatter of something hitting the desk.

And then the whole world around Evan exploded into a mass of light. And sound. And force.

Evan felt himself lifted off his feet, flung across the room. Tommy’s body was wrapped tight around him, the vampire’s arms shielding him protectively, his face pressed hard against Tommy’s throat. They hit the floor hard enough that the breath was knocked from Evan’s lungs, but he was still dimly aware of Tommy taking the brunt of the landing, rolling them with the momentum, one hand cradling the back of Evan’s head and keeping it from cracking on the hardwood floors as they came to a rolling halt.

Evan coughed, everything spinning around him in dizzying circles, his ears ringing so loudly he could barely hear anything over it. His whole body hurt, and when he pulled his head back from Tommy’s neck, the room was suddenly hazy with smoke. What…what had—

“Tommy?” he gasped, when the vampire made no move to let go, to get up. “Tommy, what—”

He could hardly hear his own voice, though he knew he was shouting. He gripped Tommy’s shoulder, more relief than he was willing to examine at the moment sweeping through him when he felt the vampire’s muscles bunch under his touch, felt Tommy shudder and start to struggle to get up. Something was wrong, though.

His vampire was moving too slowly, too sluggishly. When Evan blinked some of the hazy smoke out of his eyes, Tommy’s face—mere inches from his own—was twisted in a grimace of pain. Something hard pressed into the top of Evan’s abdomen, right under his breastbone, and he slowly became aware of a hot wetness seeping into his borrowed shirt. Gasping, he wrenched himself backwards enough so he could look down, a buzzing that had nothing to do with his ringing ears filling his head when his eyes focused on the massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that was poking into his chest.

The massive, wickedly sharp chunk of splintered wood that had impaled Tommy through the back, gone clear through his body.

“Tommy! Tommy, what—”

“Evan…run,” his vampire managed to grit out, blood spilling from the corners of his mouth.

“Aw come on Kinard. Let the witch stay.”

Evan’s heart sank, his eyes flying to the gaping hole where Greenway’s front window had been only seconds before. The blond vampire from the office building was clambering through the jagged opening, flanked by two other vampires that Evan hadn’t seen before. They were covered head to toe in the same getup that Tommy had been going to try to use to get across the sunny street—hoodies, gloves, long pants—but every inch of exposed skin was blistered and peeling, obviously burned by even what short exposure they’d had to the sun.

Blondie pulled his hood back, glaring at Evan and Tommy, a nasty smirk firmly in place on his face. Evan’s eyes flicked between the three of them as Tommy tried to push at his shoulder, still struggling to get his feet under him, even as more blood spurted out from around the piece of fucking shrapnel sprouting out of his chest.

Tommy was hurt. Badly.

The vampire who had protected him over and over, even when it made no logical sense for him to do so. The vampire who had been kinder and gentler to him over the past two days than any one of his own kind had been over the past five years. His vampire, who had refused to let Evan walk into danger alone.

His vampire, who had given up his own coven to stay by Evan’s side, against odds that would have sent any sane person running for the hills. His vampire.

Evan curled his arm protectively over Tommy’s back and reached for every drop of magic in his body, the most dangerous spell Sally had ever taught him fairly exploding out of him in a rush of power.

[hoxooster]

@littlebigadventure2 Actually, I never considered making a callout post. When DesBea was in the group, I wasn’t aware of her bullying other users (besides Red) or stalking anyone until well after she left lilspacewolfie’s Discord server. Beyond having to deal with her shoving her torture fics in everyone’s faces, and her going out of her way to push other people down, I had no thought towards making a post on her behavior. To be quite honest with you, I thought that she was just an adult who was being childish to gain attention, and that she only had beef with lilspacewolfie. Red wasn’t interested in making a callout post, because the bullying seemed like a minor issue, and I thought the same.

Then the callout post came out after I left the Red’s Ramblers Discord server.

Suddenly, behavior that I had reread in her messages back when I deleted them (in February of this year) from lilspacewolfie’s server, and that I was reminded about in conversations with others who experienced the same things whenever they interacted with her, made me realize the full scope of the worrying nature of her actions.

Because, I vividly remember how she went out of her way to pester Red. How she followed lilspacewolfie around in our stealth Payday 2 games without saying anything—in either voice or the text box—and would spam voice lines while standing directly behind her to make her scream in fear. And, how she also refused to stop when asked. No matter how many times the entreaties were repeated to her, or who was doing the asking—even if it was multiple people.

I remember how, in another time of us telling her to knock off her shitty behavior, she proclaimed in the Discord text chat—on a channel that was specifically designed for NSFW talk (mainly as a place to discuss fanfic ideas and bounce them off of the rest of the group)—that ‘anyone who writes NSFW in their fics are terrible people, and they’re disgusting.’ Red and I were taken aback by it for a while, then she asked for my help with addressing the issue, so I advised her to respond in a way that would basically tell DesBea, "Writing allows you to create whatever you want. People don't need permission to write about NSFW, or anything else for that matter, just because YOU don't like it. Just don't interact with it if it's so disgusting to you." DesBea tried to play it off with, "Well, I'm ace, so I don't understand it. Why do people do it? It's so weird. And I like reading anything and everything that has NaviMind in it." Red responded on her own with something along the lines of, "Yeah, but if you don't like to read NSFW, then just don't do it??? AO3 has tags on it so you can avoid things you don't like. Again, it's not hard." And this wasn’t the only time she used her, ‘I’m ace, but maybe not aro’ excuse to try to win or deflect her way out of arguments, but it was one of the more memorable ones. For all the wrong reasons.

I also remember how she would try to talk over other people in text conversations and make everything about her fics and ‘Bain is an alien’ and ‘the Payday gang are a hive mind’ and ‘imagine the guys feeling every bit of torture Bain went through with the Dentist’ and ‘this person’s writing sucks because it doesn’t include my head canons’ and so on.

But, as far as we knew at the time, this all only happened in the Red’s Ramblers Discord—and to people who seemed like they didn't really care too much about it. So, after she left, Red and I treated the whole situation as ‘DesBea was throwing a child’s temper tantrum, because she wasn’t getting the attention she wanted. Now she's out of here permanently. Good riddance.’

Then time passed, shit happened, and as I was leaving the server, I was deleting everything from people who had already left. I read back through her stuff and thought, “Yeesh, am I glad that she didn’t stick around.” Then I thought nothing else of it.

So, now we get back to the original callout post.

I wasn’t shocked about the content of anything that she wrote, but I was surprised by the targeted severity of it. And also the fact that she, as a ‘responsible’ adult, was knowingly being inappropriate with her messages that she was sending to a minor in that server.

Now, my mother is a middle school teacher, and I have helped her for 20 years with her work—this includes taking those ‘signs of abuse in children’, ‘bullying in the workplace’, and the ‘know that you’re expected to report bad actors on threat of legal action against you if you don’t’ tests for her, then giving her the rundown after (she’s bad with newer computers and programs). So, because of those, I know that you are, legally, NEVER ALLOWED to say what someone else does and does not consider as harassment towards themselves. I don't care if anyone tries to the pull the, 'yeah, it's only illegal where YOU are,' argument--it's a law that was put into place here because it's based on what should be common fuckin' courtesy, respect, and compassion afforded to and shared with victims in the aftermath of their trauma. If you want to consider the few messages you saw of hers as ‘gripes and misunderstandings’, then fine. If you want to interact with her, then knock yourself out. But, don’t, for one second, think that you can come in here and ‘weigh in’ on everything that has been said--which was at great personal embarrassment for some, and far too horrifying for others to even say anything beyond hinting at what transpired because of the trauma involved—and call any of it ‘not a big deal’.

In fact, since you didn’t reblog from the version of this post that has some concerning information on it, I’m going to assume that you didn’t see it, so here’s a photo of it:

On the original callout post, there's a reblog that's also from dracoleopardo that gives a bit more context on DesBea messaging at least one minor with inappropriate content. Which was followed up by lesbian-ferret mentioning that she had heard about accusations concerning DesBea going out of her way to pester the VAs—maybe with her torture fics or who-even-knows-what-else—which could have its own potential legal ramifications for DesBea, if they're true and the VAs decide to file anything against her.

So, there are people here—and possibly even persons who do/have work(ed) for Starbreeze—who have actively been hurt by her actions, some even to the point of attempting to do something irreversible to themselves. Is that what you would class as a ‘gripe’ or a ‘simple misunderstanding’?

Are muffy-official’s feelings about the whole DesBea situation that she experienced in their server not valid, because you, an admitted outsider to this issue, think that it’s ‘not a big deal’?

Is the original callout post ‘uncalled for’, because you don’t think that this was ‘worth talking about in an open forum’?

Is it ‘fearmongering’ to want to warn people—especially those that have been hurt by DesBea—about her multiple accounts that she has been known to use to block evade people who’ve blocked her on only one or a few of those accounts?

You asked me if I ‘thought of the consequences of my actions’ when I first made this addendum post.

I did.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging new people to our fandom to try and ingratiate herself upon them—which she did after an hour or so of the original callout post already being posted and it being spread around in reblogs by other people in the Payday fandom.

I thought about the consequences of her bullying more people in our fandom, especially those who are in terrible mental states or personal situations.

I thought about the consequences of her messaging any of the minors that are hanging out here in our corner of the fandom, and what any of those messages might contain.

I thought about the consequences of her continuing to stalk people in our fandom under her myriad of usernames, and none of them any the wiser about it or able to protect themselves.

I thought about the consequences of anyone in our fandom not being presented with all of this information, and thus being unable to react in an informed way if she tried to message or @ them or comment on their posts in the future.

And I also thought about the consequences her actions would have on her life on the internet, if she kept being allowed to behave and conduct herself around here in the ways that she has been.

But, we have to give her a pass, right? Because she’s ‘mentally unwell’—despite the fact that she continually refuses professional help. Or, because ‘she’s being childish for attention’—despite the fact that she’s an adult and she does know better. Or because it was ‘all just a misunderstanding’—despite the fact that she was bullying people almost to the point of harming themselves, and was knowingly being inappropriate in her messages to at least one minor.

I thought about the consequences a lot. I thought about how her actions and my own addendum post to the original callout post could effect and affect everyone in the Payday fandom. And, yes, I even thought about it in regards to Tumblr’s ToS.

So, while, yes, my post is targeted in the sense that it’s focused on DesBea and the accounts of hers that I’m aware of, it is not considered harassment under Tumblr’s definition in their ToS. This is because I’m actively calling for people to make their own decisions on whether or not they wish to block her, and I’m reminding them to not harass her. Multiple times. If you want to consider all of our efforts to try and warn people, while still reminding people to leave DesBea alone—despite how emotional our replies might have gotten and how many swear words have been thrown around--as harassment, then fine. Block me. Block all of us. Block everyone of us who created the posts, and every last person who reblogged it to signal boost it, so more people in our corner of the internet could see it.

I refuse to see any part of this as a 'non-issue' or as 'fearmongering'. DesBea has hurt multiple people in the Payday fandom in multiple ways in multiple places under multiple names. There are quite a few screenshots that have been provided as evidence to her behavior, and anecdotes from people in our fandom who've never interacted with each other before—all of whom are saying the same things about how she acted around them. If that's not what you consider as a 'good enough cause to make a callout post', then I don't know what to tell ya, hoss.

Do as you will.

On the DesBea situation:

I would've added my thoughts to the original post, but as I am not a part of their Discord server, I didn't think that that was any bit appropriate. However, I wanted to share some of my own personal experiences with her, so that y'all can see that her behavior in their server is a continuing pattern--I don't have pictures of what she said as proof, sadly, but I will explain why.

I'm also gonna slap this under a Read More. I apologize for its length, but the original callout post should be enough of an explanation as to why this post needs to be as long as it is.

And, as a quick aside, if any of you wish to completely block DesBea, NOT HARASS HER OR FEED INTO HER BEHAVIOR IN ANY WAY, be aware that her usernames are:

commence-screaming

des-paa-cee-toeee

pd3thoughts

If any of you know of any more, please tell me, and I will update this post. I don't want to be around her anymore than most people who've also interacted with her do.

About 2 years ago, I was invited to lilspacewolfie's server, Red's Ramblers, and I very quickly became a moderator there. Over time some people joined and a few left, but Ramblers remained stable through it all. DesBea joined later on into the server's lifespan, was around for awhile, said some nasty things, was given a warning (in the general), and just left without saying anything one day. After reading the screenshots in the callout post, I'm actually quite surprised by how much of a fit she threw in her efforts to make you guys apologize to her. Much like in the original post, with her gone from the server, things improved for everyone else, but the whole ordeal was rather confusing for all of us, in the aftermath.

See, DesBea was trying to be just as harmful in Ramblers, but it never really went anywhere.

Her hateful and self-pitying tendencies were the same around us as it was in their server. She really loved to talk shit about Yadoking and her writing--she would do this both in passing on random posts in the server, and while some of us were in-call when we'd play Payday 2 together as a group. It never smacked of genuine criticism for Yado's writing ability or style, as she only ever used childish language when doing it, and she would always do it right before she would try to push her own ideas and fics onto any of us who were online at the time. She was even trying to bully lilspacewolfie--which I will go more into later--over the tiniest of things. DesBea, in all of her posts, was either pushing someone else down, trying to make us all read about her rather disturbing fic ideas or headcanons, or trying to make herself look like the victim by claiming that she 'had bad experiences with abuse in the past' and that her 'PTSD was triggered over something someone in Ramblers had said' when we were trying to halt her bullshit.

It was all very aggravating to deal with, to say the least, but it also didn't have very much staying power, since most of us were just ignoring her in the server. And I do mean that, as most of the users in the Ramblers Discord server refused to interact with her posts over time, and people usually ignored her whenever she tried to insert herself into their conversations. It's probably why she left without much of a fight when lilspacewolfie posted "If you're being an asshole in this server, you better stop that shit right now" in the general chat. (That's not what she said, but y'all get the jist.)

Now, as for her bullying behavior in the server, I can't say for certain if she was targeting anyone besides lilspacewolfie (and badmouthing Yado from time to time, who wasn't even in the server), as I'm not a very outgoing or talkative individual. Despite the length of this post, I'm naturally quite taciturn, and even though I was a moderator in Ramblers, nobody in the server ever messaged me about any issues that they were having with anyone. But, I can say with accuracy that DesBea would go out of her way to harass lilspacewolfie--the creator and owner of the Red's Ramblers Discord server. Whenever she would join calls while we were playing together (but she was just watching from the server), she would only ever type in the voice chat channel, where she would wax poetic about her own fics and get rather offended that 'lilspacewolfie was intentionally ignoring her'. If we were playing a game of Payday 2 with her, DesBea would intentionally follow lilspacewolfie around as a character that she didn't particularly care for and spam callouts to scare and irritate her. And, when another user in the server was having an issue that caused them a lot of distress and made them go quiet for awhile (which had nothing to do with anyone or anything in Ramblers, when they were asked about it), DesBea tried to blame lilspacewolfie for it based on a lighthearted joke that she had made that dogged on Houston. So, not only was she trying to harass lilspacewolfie, but she was actively trying to turn others in the server against the owner of the Discord, as if she could muscle her out by making her out to be a villain.

Over a joke about a FICTIONAL character.

Because she started insinuating that lilspacewolfie had caused another user to 'go into a depressive spiral, and chased them away from the server with her insensitive comments about Houston', I got involved to shut that shit down. DesBea was always weirdly attached to me, because she had DM'd me a few times on Tumblr in the past. I can only guess that she thought that these few smatterings of messages made me her friend, and since, apparently, some people here think of me as being "Mr. John Payday", she figured that she could use me as an intimidating wall to hide behind whenever she was called out on her bullshit.

She was wrong.

After a while of still trying to get others in the server to hate lilspacewolfie for 'being mean to one of the other users in the server'--who ended up coming back once their mental health had improved, by the way--she finally left after the "Stop being a dick" post, and it took us a couple days to notice. So, all-in-all, it was a very weird and irritating experience, but, in this context, it shows a worrying trend of behavior that she ended up spreading to other servers.

Now, like I kind of glossed over earlier, I WAS a moderator in Red's Ramblers. (I ended up leaving the server last month due to personal reasons that're not germane to this situation, and I have no desire to talk about it on this forum.) As I was still a mod before I left, I took the time to delete every post and reaction made by people who were no longer in the server--this amounted to 7 people, DesBea included. So, all of her posts that I could've screencapped as evidence are gone, and even if they were still there, I wouldn't have access to them anymore, anyway. In fact, the only thing that I have left is this picture I took of my response to her whole "You're a bad person for hating Houston" spiel that she was going on and on about:

(I censored this to give some privacy to the person who DesBea tried to use as a cudgel to smack lilspacewolfie with blame for their condition at the time. Even though most people here probably won't recognize them from their in-server nickname, I didn't want to take any chances.)

But, anyway, as you have read from the callout post and these personal anecdotes that I have provided, her behavior in their server was an unsurprising, but also a very worrying trend that has effected at least 2 Discord servers and a good chunk of some of the people who were or still are in the Payday fandom.

If anything that y'all have read over these posts has angered any of y'all to the point of harassing her, PLEASE DON'T. Don't send her hate--anonymously or not. Don't engage with her. Just block her and make sure that others in the fandom are aware of her behavior, so they can avoid her if they wish to as well.

And, again, please tell me if she's operating under any usernames other than the ones I've listed. I was tired of her bullshit a long time ago, and I have no desire to entertain her further under yet another pseudonym.

[lesbiandreamriso]

And I’ll say this Princess Patt. Fuck you, they will never make me like you and the ring conversation was not the compromise you think it was.

[gor3sigil]

Before starting T, when I socially transitionned, I was surrounded by radical feminists who saw masculinity as gross and inherently evil, something to avoid, something to make fun of, something to destroy. The other transmascs in my friend group, sometimes, told me that they didn’t knew if they really were non-binary or if they just were scared shitless of saying “I am a man”. Because they saw this as a betrayal to their younger self who had been SAd and abused.

I saw many of my masc friends and trans men around me hate themselves, not outing themselves as men because it would imply so so much, it was like opening the Pandora Box. Even when we were just together, talking about our masculinity was always coated with bits like “I know we’re the privileged ones but…”, “I don’t want to sound like I have it bad but…”, “Women obviously have it worse, but last time…” and we were talking about terrible traumas we experienced while taking all the precautions in the world in the case the walls were a crowd of people in disguise waiting to get us if we didn’t downplay the violence we faced, or like crying and being upset and being traumatized and afraid and scared and to say it out loud would make us throw up the needles we were forced to swallow every second of every day living in our skin.

Most of us weren’t on T yet, some of us were catcalled every day and harassed in the streets or in abusive relationships nobody seemed to care to help them get out of because they were “strong enough” to do it by themselves.

I was using the gender swap face app and cried for ours when I saw my father looking back at me through the screen. The idea of transforming, of shedding into a body that would deprive me of love, tenderness, and safety, was absolutely terrifying. I knew I couldn’t stay in this body any longer because it wasn’t mine, but I also knew that if I was going to look like my dad, my brother, my abusers, it would be so much worse.

5 years later and I’m almost 2 years on T, and almost 2 months post top surgery.

I ditched my previous group of friends. I was bullied out of my local trans community. But let me tell you how free I am.

I was scared that T would break my singing voice: it made it sound more alive than ever.

I was scared that T would make me less attractive: it made me find myself hot for the first time in my life.

I was scared that T would make me gain weight: it did. But the weight I put on is not the weight I used to put on by binging and eating my body until I forgot that it even existed. It’s the weight of my body belonging to me, little by little. The wolf hunger for life.

I won’t tell you the same story I see everywhere, the one that goes “I started going to the gym 8 times a week, I put on some muscles, I started a diet and now I look like an action film actor”, in fact if you took pictures of me from 5 years ago vs now I’d just have more acne, I’d have longer hair and still look like I don’t know what to do with myself when I take selfies.

But the sparkle in my eyes, my smile, tell the whole story way better than this long ass stream of words could ever.

I want to say some things that I wish someone told me before starting medically transitionning.

It’s okay to take your time. It’s your body, it’s your journey, if you don’t feel comfortable taking full doses and want to go slow, the only voice you need to listen to is your own. Do what feels right.

If you feel overwhelmed, it’s okay to take a break, it’s okay to ask for support.

Trans people are holy. Everyone is. You didn’t lose your angel wings when you came out because you want to be masculine. You are not excluded from the joy of existence, from being proud of yourself, from being sad, from being scared, from being angry. The emotions and feelings you allowed yourself to feel while processing what you experienced when you grew up as a girl and was seen as a woman are still as valid as before. Nobody can take that from you. If someone tries to, don’t let them.

It’s perfectly normal to grieve some things you were and had before you started to transition, like your high soprano voice or even your chest. Hatching is painful. You can find comfort in things that don’t feel right, so making the decision to change can be incredibly scary and weird and you deserve to be heard and supported through this. Wanting top surgery doesn’t make the surgery less intense, less terrifying, less painful to recover from. When it becomes too much you have the right to take a break and take some deep breaths before going on.

You don’t have to have a radical, 180° change for your transition to be acceptable or valid or worthy of praise. Look at how far you’ve come already. It doesn’t have to show, you’re not made to be a spectacle, you’re human and it is your journey.

Oh, and last thing, you know when some people say “Oh this trans person has to grow out of the cringy phase where you think that you can write essays about being trans or transitionning or just their experience because it’s weird” ? If you ever hear this or see this online, remember all the people whose writing you read and, even if they were not professional writers, helped you more than any theorists did ? If you want to write, do it. It won’t be a waste. It can help people. Or it won’t, and even then, if it helped you, that’s enough.

Love every of my trans siblings, take care of yourselves. You deserve the world.

[ahalliance]

riz gukgak the type of ‘the end justifies the means’ guy who’s gotten real lucky that so far the best possible means to his ends have happened to mostly align themselves to the side of overall good

[sansabirdanne]

In 2016 I was a handful of weeks pregnant with my daughter, I already knew and had a test confirming it that I was, that’s what happens when your are hyperfocused on your body, you feel it. Trump was elected for the first time. My heart broke, again and again, for my unborn baby and myself, and what all of this could mean. In December of the same year I had a genetic test done to make sure she was okay, I was considered a ‘geriatric pregnancy’ since I was in my mid 30s. She was. Perfect and okay. But that’s when we found out she was going to be born a girl. My heart broke again. Over and over. For my little girl whose rights were in jeopardy, the same as my own and many other people. On Inauguration Day 2017 I walked in the march in Cincinnati with my brother.

I had her in June of that year, she remained perfect, in March of 2020 something shifted, my baby was 2, almost 3 and everything shut down, due to the poor handling and failure of the administration. She remained at home with my spouse while I worked, eventually she was able to return to daycare but struggled with behavior issues due to the lack of socialization.

I stopped listening to the news and podcasts late that year because I felt like I was losing my mind.

I had panic attacks that landed me in the hospital, I ended up eventually leaving my job as a counselor. Things got better.

This year I told my dad that it was going to happen again, I could *feel* it. He said there was ‘no way.’ I never wanted to be wrong more. My baby (now 7, very sweet, smart, and super emotional) asked me about the election and who I was going to vote for, I told her, and why. I told her how important it was and how the other candidate led with meaness and didn’t want people to be who they were. She said she understood and agreed. This morning, after she finished hugging me, telling me it would be okay and giving me her stuffed monster (yeah, her lovely is a monster) she told me a friend of hers told her I was a liar because of what I said about Trump. I told her that kids are influenced by their parents, just like she is influenced by me.

I’m scared again. I’m 41. I work with an under served population, people who struggle with the legal system. I’m a woman. My baby is a girl, my husband has a chronic illness, my dad is old. I still have an Elizabeth Warren bumper sticker on my car in the middle of Trump country. I.. don’t know. I care about so many people and I hate that this country would rather vote for a terrible human than support a woman becoming president.

I know my story is tiny compared to a lot of people. There are always worse situations. I just feel powerless and have a strong inclination to fix things. Things I can’t. I’m sad. I’m hurt. I’m scared. And I’m sorry.

I can’t breathe. I can’t do this again. I woke up and I knew. I spent the last 30 minutes trying to explain to my 7 year old daughter why I couldn’t stop crying. I knew. But I am so scared and disappointed.I’m sorry

[obsesssedblerd]

"Who's your new teacher?"

Synopsis: Toji meets Megumi's new preschool teacher and immediately develops a crush.

Pairings: single dad! toji x f! reader

Wc: 2.3K

Contains: plenty of fluff, crack, a tiny bit of angst, megumi is four, tsumiki is seven, toji is still toji (but like he's soft for his kids and he takes care of them), reader is a preschool teacher, reader and toji are around the same age, toji being soft, mentions of shiu, shiu and toji work together, shiu being an idiot (lol sorry he'll get love in another fic) , everyone is happy bc I said so

a/n: omg, first fic, we made it! barely proofread, sorry for mistakes. also, tysm for 1,000 followers here! the other two fics that were on that poll will be coming soon!

update: pt 2 here

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

Toji’s Fushiguro’s muscles ache. The job he took was harder than he anticipated, and it took way longer than it was supposed to. After confirming that the payment from the job is in his account, he calls Shiu Kong so he could check in on the kids. “About damn time,” Shiu scoffs when the line connects. “I was beginning to think I wouldn’t hear from you until sunrise.” 

“Job’s done,” Toji says as he gets into his car, settling into the drivers’ seat with an exhausted sigh. “I hear the TV in the background. Better be cartoons or something age-appropriate.” 

Shiu laughs. “Of course, what else? ‘M not getting cussed out by you. Anyway, you comin’ back with Megumi? Can’t believe you took him on the job with you. Once you’re back, I can get out of here.” 

Toji’s heart nearly stops. He sits up in his seat, gripping the phone so hard that the screen nearly cracks from his strength. “The fuck did you just say?” 

“Huh?” 

“Megumi isn’t with you?!” Toji’s voice booms in the car. On the other line, he hears Shiu gulp. “I… I thought he was with you.” 

“You idiot! I asked you to pick him up from preschool around the same time you pick up Tsumiki from her school because I knew this would take a while!” 

“You did?!” Shiu asks, and then it goes quiet; him more than likely flipping through his messages to double check. “...Shit,” he breathes out. 

Toji inhales sharply, then exhales shakily in an attempt to calm the rage, and even the fear that pools in his gut. “If anything has happened to my fucking son, Kong, I will murder you and make your death look like an accident. Keep an eye on Tsumiki.” 

“Fushiguro, I swear, I-” Toji hangs up before Shiu can explain himself further, then he starts the car. 

He grips the steering wheel hard, and his breathing picks up as his mind spins with every horrific scenario possible. The preschool closes at six thirty. It was close to nine. He didn’t see any missed calls from them. On a normal day, he’d be done before work with plenty of time to pick up his four year-old son, but today’s job was far more difficult and required more time. 

The car speeds down the street leading to his destination. He’s half-expecting to see Megumi sitting outside with his backpack, clinging to his dog plushie and crying. Or worse, he’s not there at all; because this world is full of terrible people, and they won’t hesitate to steal a small, unsupervised boy. His heart aches at the thought, and he shoves it away before he feels the need to throw up. He’ll be okay, he thinks to himself. Everything is going to be fine. 

—

When Toji arrives at the preschool, he rushedly parks lopsidedly in the lot, then exits the car. His eyes scan the steps leading up to the front, and when he doesn’t see Megumi outside, he rushes to the door. 

He sees a security guard in a booth, and before Toji can even ask any questions, the guard gives him a small smile and nod, pressing a button that unlocks the door to the preschool with a click. Toji’s shoulders slump in relief. They were expecting him. That meant Megumi is still here and safe. 

Toji nods back at the guard in thanks, and rushes down the dimly-lit hallway. He sees a light coming from a classroom that still has its door open, and he slows his steps when he hears a child giggling. His child. 

Then it’s followed up by a beautiful, melodic laugh that makes him stop in his tracks. It’s a lovely sound; one that his heart skips to, and one that gently rings in his ears even plenty of seconds after it stops. 

Toji peeks into the classroom to see Megumi comfortably resting in a pillow fort, and you, kneeling beside a lamp and using your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall to entertain him. “Alright,” you say softly as you rearrange your hands and fingers. “What’s this one?” 

You smile as you watch Megumi hum thoughtfully, and Toji is transfixed by you. Who are you? Where did you come from? Since when did Megumi get a new teacher? Why is your smile so bright and so beautiful that the sun would envy? Why is his heart beating wildly in his chest at the sight of you? Fuck, why is he staring? 

“Ooh!” Megumi gasps as he figures out the animal you made with your hands. “Rabbit!” 

“Correct, great job!” You reach forward and give him a high-five. “I think you’ll really like this next one,” you say, and Megumi giggles again as he sits up, completely focused and ready to guess. “Ready?” You ask, and the boy nods. 

Toji crosses his arms, quietly leans against the door of the classroom, and watches, unaware of the soft smile that creeps onto his face. When you put your hands in front of the light, and the shape of the animal displays in front of Megumi, he squeals excitedly and stands up. “Doggy!” He shouts with a wide grin and pulls up his favorite dog plushie that he takes with him everywhere, imitating the sounds a dog would make. You break out into laughter, and Toji nearly stops breathing so he can fully take in the sound of it again.

Beautiful, he thinks. You’re so fucking beautiful. 

Megumi’s eyes flicker towards the door, and he gasps before running as fast as he can towards Toji. “Papa!” 

“Hey, Megs.” Toji kneels down, hugs the small boy against his chest before picking him up in his strong arms, sighing in relief as he runs a hand through his dark hair. He’s okay, and he doesn’t look too upset that he was here for this long. “I’m so sorry I’m late. Are you alright?” 

“Yeah!” Megumi pulls away, then gestures towards you, who watched the tender reunion with a sweet smile. “Ms. [Y/L/N] played so many fun games with me!” 

“Aw, I’m so happy you had fun, Megumi.” You take a step closer so you’re standing in front of Toji, slightly lifting your head upward to meet his eyes due to his height. “We tried calling you, but your phone went straight to voicemail. Megumi said that it does that sometimes. He took a nap earlier, but I’m sure he’ll be sleepy soon after all of those games. I also gave him dinner earlier.” 

“That’s… I just-” Toji struggles to find words, especially when you slightly tilt your head to the side and blink slowly. He exhales, then snaps himself out of his daze. “Thank you so much,” he says. “Are you new? I swear, I’m not usually this late.” Great. Megumi’s pretty teacher might think I’m just the worst parent on this damn planet. 

You nod. “Yes, I’m new. Today was my first day with this angel,” You use a finger to gently boop Megumi’s nose, and he smiles, shyly burying his face into Toji’s shoulder, “and the other kids. I figured you might’ve been held up at work or something. It’s okay. Things happen. Besides, he’s such a well-behaved kid. I didn’t mind spending this much time with him.” 

Toji places Megumi on the ground, then gently taps his shoulder. “Let’s grab your stuff, okay?” As he helps Megumi pack his backpack, Toji bites back a smile when he sees you watching him out of the corner of his eye. He notes the way you fiddle with your hands and avert your gaze after catching yourself. 

You walk over to your desk and open a drawer, pulling out three suckers from a sealed jar. Once Megumi had all of his things packed, you kneel before him, handing him the suckers one by one. “Here you go. One for you, one for your sister, and one for your dad. I can tell he works really, really hard.” 

Toji doesn’t hide his smile this time; it was impossible, especially when Megumi accepts them excitedly. “Candy! Thank you!” He hugs you gently, and you return it, rubbing your hand up and down his back. “You’re so welcome. Thanks for being so sweet today. You made my first day so fun.” 

A muffled gasp coming from outside has the three of you looking towards the window. Toji sees Tsumiki’s face squished against the glass with her usual, excited smile, and Shiu Kong standing beside her, looking relieved when he sees Megumi safe and sound. He purposely avoids Toji’s glare. 

The sound of Megumi’s small yawn gets his attention, and Toji’s gaze softens when the boy rubs his tired eyes. “Aw, ‘m sorry. It’s past your bedtime. Let’s get you home.” He leans down to pick him up again, and once you have your belongings, the two of you leave the building together. 

When you three make it outside, you face Toji and Megumi. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Megumi,” you say quietly to him, who is slowly beginning to drift off. Then you look up at Toji, who is softly smiling at you. “And I’ll see you tomorrow, too, right?” You ask.

“Yeah, you will.” 

You wave goodbye, and Toji makes sure you get into your car safely. “Hey, Megs,” Toji gently shakes Megumi as he watches you drive out of the parking lot. “Do you know her name?” 

“Ms. [Y/L/N]” 

He chuckles. “No, kid, her first name.” 

“I dunno,” Megumi mumbles before closing his eyes and resting his cheek on Toji’s shoulder. “Sleepy, papa.” 

“Ah, there they are!” Shiu exclaims, and Toji would’ve thrown a punch if his son wasn’t in his arms, and if his seven year-old daughter wasn’t happily skipping towards him. “Hi, papa!” 

“Hi, sweets, how was school today?” 

“Good,” Tsumiki says, then grins mischievously as she points to the spot where your car was just a minute ago. “You like her!” She teases. “You wanna hug her and kiss her and give her chocolates!” 

“Alright, you.” Toji rolls his eyes and laughs softly as he uses his free arm to lift up a giggly Tsumiki, then presses a kiss to her forehead. “Both of you should be in bed. Let’s get home.” 

“Aw, okay.” Tsumiki then leans forward to gently kiss her sleeping baby brother’s cheek. “Night, Gumi.” 

Toji secures both Tsumiki and Megumi in his car, and then faces Shiu, who is smiling nervously. “Well, look at that. Megumi’s doing great and you even developed a crush. How cute. All’s well that ends well.” 

“Very cute, but guess what?” 

“What?” 

Toji finally throws a swift punch at Shiu’s jaw, greatly holding back his strength so it wouldn’t break. Shiu stumbles, then groans, cupping his face with his hands. “Okay, fine, I deserved that.” 

“Damn right,” Toji says as he opens the door to the driver’s seat. “See you later.” 

—

Toji almost never stresses about his appearance in the mornings. After all, it was just dropping off the kids. But this morning, he frets over which shirt would look better with the jeans he picked out, if he should wear a different type of cologne, or if he should slick his hair back. 

All because he’s seeing you again. 

He decides to skip the new cologne and go for his usual, simple one, dresses in a dark shirt to match the jeans, and also ditches the idea of slicking his hair. Once the kids are ready for the day, he leaves early and goes to a coffee shop to pick up a medium cup of coffee. First, he drops Tsumiki off at school, then he takes Megumi to preschool. 

Toji spots you almost immediately. You were out in the front amongst the other preschool teachers, parents and their kids, wearing a gorgeous yellow top and simple blue jeans. When you see Toji and Megumi approaching, you pause your conversation with your coworker and walk over to them. Toji decides that he likes that, and that he loves the way you kneel in front of Megumi to meet his eye level, telling him good morning and asking if he was excited for the day. 

You raise to your feet, Toji hands you the cup of coffee he purchased earlier. “For you,” he says, “As a thank you for everything yesterday.” 

“Aw.” Your eyes light up as you accept the cup. “Mr. Fushiguro, this—” 

“Toji,” he corrects softly, and he ignores the way his heart stutters when your smile grows. 

“Well, Toji, this is lovely. Thank you so much.” 

“I never caught your name last night.” 

You tell him your name, and Toji tests it once. From the way you shyly avert your gaze, he can tell you that like the way it sounds in his voice. Megumi clears his throat, and Toji looks down to see him staring up at him, his brow raised in suspicion. “You never stay this long. Don’t you have to go to work?” 

Damn, kid. Thought we were on the same team. 

You laugh as Toji rolls his eyes and sticks his tongue out at Megumi—a gesture that the four year-old returns immediately. “Well, he’s right, gotta get going,” Toji says, looking back up at you. “I’ll see you later?” 

“Yes.” You nod, then point to the warm cup in your hands. “Thanks again for the coffee. Have a great day at work.” 

“You too.” Toji then gently ruffles Megumi’s hair. “Be good.” 

He doesn’t realize how big he’s smiling until he’s back in the car, and he sighs as he remembers Shiu’s words from the night before. A crush. That word seems so silly. He’s not a teen in high school. Toji looks up just in time to watch you take Megumi’s hand and lead him inside the building with the other children, and he chuckles to himself as he starts the car up.

Maybe “silly” was okay when you’re this pretty.

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

There are a lot of reasons i feel intense resentment (at the very least) towards anti vaxers and anti maskers. There are a lot of things that I quite possibly never do the same way again. Every time I go out or think about going out I’m reminded of this. Every time I go online and see one of those assholes I’m reminded of it. Every time I see some of my own relatives I’m reminded of it. I hate it so much. But there is something different about the feelings I get when I’m reminded of something small I can’t do. I don’t know what it is but it’s almost more sadness than anger, and when my ears hurt because I’ve been wearing a mask all day as I buy groceries and go to appointments, that enrages me. When I’m told I’m being brainwashed or paranoid because I can’t stand the thought of long covid and the fact that I could get even more health problems because those fuckers joined some cult mindset I’m enraged. When I open up the cabinet behind my bathroom mirror and see my black lipstick it’s more sad. I miss the theatrics of wearing dramatic colorful makeup. I miss the drama of having black lipstick and Wes all black. Sure, I can still wear all black (and most often do) and wear dramatic eye makeup, but my favorite thing, the lipstick, isn’t an option anymore. Only some gatherings of people or something where I need to take off my mask would show it, and getting lipstick all over the inside of a mask isn’t very fun tbh. I was never super into makeup and I have never worn it even close to everyday, but I miss when I did.

[fastandcarlos]

100% Whipped : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: lando is happy to do just about anything for you, which the other drivers are more than happy to remind lando about too

Lando looked around in confusion as sniggers came from around the room, his fellow drivers all looked at him in disbelief, many shaking their heads as he spoke once again. 

“There are other things we can talk about,” Max told him, smirking across at Lando opposite him. “We don’t constantly just have to talk about your girlfriend you know.” 

Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion as several others nodded in agreement with Max. It was a habit of his, and one he didn’t realise he had either, but the rest of the boys were all too aware of just how much Lando loved to talk about you, to anyone who listened. 

They couldn’t help but smile at how fondly Lando spoke of you, the way his smile turned up and his eyes got brighter whenever the conversation was about you. As much as they loved knowing that Lando was happy, they didn’t need telling quite as much as they currently were. 

“I don’t just talk about her,” Lando argued, but as the others rolled their eyes, Lando wasn’t quite so confident that he didn’t talk about you as much as they all suggested. 

Although he would never admit just how much he adored you, Lando knew that he had been falling hard for you. He loved to gush about you and make sure that everyone else got to see what he saw in you, how kind, caring and funny you were. 

The rest of the paddock knew that anyway, but Lando liked to make extra sure that was the case with all of his stories about you. 

“Every time she’s not at a race you sit and complain that she’s not there and how much you need her,” Oscar spoke up, “she’s all we talk about on a race weekend.” 

“Or when she is there, you refuse to let her out of your sight because you want to make sure that she’s alright,” George added, smirking across at Lando, “you don’t let her lift a finger.” 

More and more stories came out as the boys all interjected with the moments that they’d experienced with Lando, seeing firsthand just how in love with you he was. 

“I’m just being a good boyfriend,” Lando tried to argue once they eventually fell silent, but even Lando was beginning to realise that he went above and beyond, constantly. 

“I think you know how she’s going to spend her day better than she does,” Daniel responded, unable to hold back his laughter. “You used to tell me every day exactly what she was up to, almost as if you knew where she was minute by minute.” 

“Really?” Lando asked in surprise, not realising quite how much attention to detail he paid when it came to what you were doing. 

“You don’t even realise that you’re doing it half the time.” 

Lando’s stature shrunk, sinking down in his seat. “I promise that I’m not as whipped as you guys all probably think I am, it’s not that bad.” 

“You are,” Carlos stated, sending Lando a knowing look, “but I guess most of the time it is quite sweet.” 

“Aside from the fact that you make the rest of us look like terrible boyfriends,” Charles added. 

Lando struggled to hold back his smile, although it wasn’t a competition, he knew that the two of you were a popular couple around the paddock. He felt like he was the standard, showing the others how to take care of your girlfriend properly and not care about what anyone else had to say about it. 

“I wonder if she realises how whipped you are for her or whether she’s just used to it all by now,” Oscar spoke up, looking pensively across at Lando. 

“I think Y/N is just as whipped for him as Lando is for her,” Daniel very quickly argued, “you should’ve heard some of the conversations we had about him when I was on the team.” 

A smile emerged on Lando’s face as some of the boys nodded in agreement again. They were used to listening to you talk about Lando just as much, talking through how amazing his races were time after time as if they hadn’t been there to experience it themselves. 

“Would you guys like me to stop talking about Y/N so much?” Lando asked them all. 

The group felt quite guilty as Lando stared seriously across at them all. They all knew that he meant it, glancing between themselves as their heads all shook back across at him. 

“We’re only messing with you buddy,” George assured him, tapping against his shoulders, “maybe we just don’t need to know every single last detail about her.” 

Lando nodded, smiling back across at George. “I’m sure I can tone it down a little bit, the last thing I need is you guys all thinking that I’m whipped.” 

“Mate, we all definitely know that you are though.” 

He could try to deny it all he wanted, but the boys all knew what he was like. It was something in him that they were never going to change, but as such a popular member of the team, it meant a lot to all of them to see how happy he was with you. 

“Don’t even try and deny it,” Max called out as Lando went to speak again, “wear it with pride, some people would kill to have the sort of relationship that the two of you have.” 

“Do you really think that?” 

“Of course,” Max smiled back across at him, “you know we’re always going to find something to tease you about, you’re still very much the baby of the grid to all of us.” 

It didn’t matter how old Lando was, the boys were all very protective of him, and as much as they took every chance to make fun of him, they’d never let anyone else say a bad word about him. 

“You just continue to do you,” Carlos smiled as he met Lando’s eyes, “some of these guys are never going to even get a girlfriend, so at least you’ve got that over them at least.” 

“None of you can ever mention this to her,” Lando told them all, “do you know how embarrassed she be knowing that you guys see us as whipped for one another.” 

Just like Lando, you were very aware of how whipped he was for you, but if anyone suggested that you were whipped for him, then you would categorically deny it. You knew how much he’d do for you though, savouring the feeling of Lando willingly doing absolutely anything to support you. 

“We’ll keep it between us,” Oscar promised him, “unless she keeps stealing the chocolate I keep in the garage for once the races are finished. If that carries on, I’m making no promises.” 

“I’ll buy you more,” Lando assured him, “just don’t tell her how whipped I am, or how whipped you guys seem to think that I might be.” 

“Just admit it,” Charles laughed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Admit that you’re whipped for her, it’s not like we don’t already know it already.” 

“Will you leave me alone if I say it?” Lando asked them all. 

“We promise to leave you alone for the rest of the night.” 

“Fine, I am 100% whipped for my girlfriend.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

i’ll drive, i’ll drive all night

bf!rafe cameron x fem!reader

cw — alcohol, brief talks abt arguing, this is lowk short

summary — you drunk call rafe for a ride home from your friends house.

a/n — whipped this up in a few minutes so please don’t be too harsh. request!!

do not copy or post my work anywhere else.

you sat outside with the warm breeze as you waited on the steps to your best friends house for your boyfriend to pick you up. you were completely out of it, eyes feeling heavy, body all soft and feeling like jelly from the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through you.

you’d probably had one too many drinks and you were expecting a lecture from rafe when he arrived but you were too far past the point of caring. you just wanted to see him and go home after the terrible day you’d had.

the two of you had argued earlier in the afternoon which eventually led to you both parting ways and not speaking for a few hours. you were both very opinionated and you had attitudes that often didn’t mix well when you were frustrated. one of you usually apologized though and you guys moved past it.

this one was different though. you knew you’d been a little mean in your replies but you also felt like he deserved a little reality check. you currently couldn’t even remember why you were arguing due to your drunken state, but you knew it was something you guys could easily get over. you two would probably forget about it by morning anyway.

when you finally saw the big truck pull into the driveway, you quickly stood and almost immediately regretted the sudden action. your head began to spin and a pain accumulated behind your eyelids as you drunkenly stumbled to his car. he was standing on the passengers side waiting for you.

once you approached after tripping over your own feet, he opened up the door for you without a word and helped you up the big step to get inside. he shut it behind you and made his way into his own seat. he assured you had your seatbelt on and began reversing out of the driveway without a word.

“i’m sorry,” you slurred quietly, noticing the way both his hands held the steering wheel instead of one of them resting on your thigh. “didn’t know who else to call.”

you heard him sigh and begin to drive. “would rather you call me than anyone else,” he admitted honestly and spared a glance in your direction. his heart broke a little at the soft pout on your lips and the sad glint in your eyes. “‘nd i’m not mad at you, baby. ‘s fine.”

your eyes glistened with tears as you looked at him. “you’re not?” you mumbled under your breath, eyes feeling heavier and your head getting all foggy.

he shook his head with a shrug and gently rested his hand on your lower thigh just above your knee, thumb soothing over your skin reassuringly. “could never be mad at you,” he said before the car fell into a comfortable silence. the only sound being the quiet song playing on his radio.

you didn’t know when you fell asleep or how long it’d been since, but you began to wake to the sight of rafe standing in front of you looking extremely focused and a soft towel being dragged carefully over your cheeks. you were sat on the bathroom counter with your legs spread slightly and him standing between them with majority of your body weight leaning against his.

he was holding your jaw in one hand while the other hand did what you assumed was taking off your makeup. when you finally fluttered your eyes open for real this time, he scanned your face and placed the towel down on the counter. “you have fun tonight?”

you nodded and smiled softly. “mhm. morgan’s friends are really nice. the bar was so cool,” you replied, awkwardly rubbing your hands along your thighs not knowing whether or not it was appropriate to touch him. “‘m really sorry, rafe.”

he went silent for a moment but his eyes stayed fixed on yours. “its okay, sweetheart. we both said some shit we shouldn’t have. ‘s alright. people make mistakes.”

“i was bein’ a bitch earlier,” you mumbled, leaning your forehead against his chest.

he laughed softly and smoothed a hand down the back of your head comfortingly. “i think i can handle your attitude pretty well by now,” he replied just barely above a whisper. “c’mon. time for bed.”

you instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands found the backs of your thighs, lifting you and walking you to your shared bedroom before dropping you down gently on your side. he was quick to pull his shirt over his head and crawl under the covers beside you.

you scooted closer to his side and sighed at the familiar warmth you enjoyed so much. his arm loosely fell to the dip of your waist as he scrolled through netflix to find a movie on, knowing you couldn’t sleep without the tv on. “i love you baby,” you muttered through a sleep-laced voice.

he smiled and pressed a kiss to your hair. “i love you more, angel.”

[lavandulawrites]

An Escape To Warmer Temperatures

Yandere Capitano x reader

Yandere Capitano is something else<3 Got this idea while doing the archon quest. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Synopsis: Capitano wants to take you with him to Natlan in search of the pyro gnosis

Masterlist

Warnings: spoilers for 5.1, implied murder, implied violence (not towards the reader), obsessiveness, possessiveness, power imbalance

Word count: 1146

The Captain was a righteous man. It was a well known fact. He was tall, way above 190 cm and he was as muscular as a god. He had an aura that made one cower before him, even if you didn’t know about his identity as the 1st Harbinger. His love for you was passionate and over consuming. He sat you above all others and he had told you time after time that he would burn down Teyvat for you. It was no secret that Capitano had shed blood for you. Both his own and the blood of others. He never told you, but you had gotten the glance of blood speckles on his clothing after some had sent you a dirty look and you had overheard his lackeys disposing of what remained of a unfortunate man who had bumped into you.

Capitano was a strange man, but there was no doubt about his love for you.

At night he caged you in an gentle, but firm embrace. His strong arms wrapping around you and keeping you close. At first you had resisted, in fear of what he might do to you, but you caved in when you realised he didn’t mean you any harm.

Capitano was no stupid man, quite on the contrary. He knew about the dangers of the world and wanted nothing more than to shield you from said dangers.

The snow storm had lasted for days, almost a week. The wind hammered against the roof and the snow clouded the sky in an endless stream of white. The old hearth was lit and the flames beckoning you closer. You reached out your hands in an attempt to warm them. The flames were bright and looked like a living breathing being.

The polished floor creaked making his presence known. Your eyes remained focused on the fire rather than his imposing figure. His movements stilled and you knew he was waiting for you to say something.

“You are home” you could almost see your breath in the cold air despite the fire before you.

A low hum could be heard from behind you. A heavy fur trimmed coat was laid around your shoulders in an attempt to stop the shivering of your limbs that you hadn’t been aware of.

“We finished early” the black haired captain replied. His hand stayed on your shoulder. “Are there any special reasons as to why it is so terrible cold in here?”

“The heater broke and the firewood was wet” your eyes were still staring into the flames.

The hand on your shoulder moved its thumb in an comforting manner. “Why didn’t you ask the servants to help you?”

“I don’t mind the cold…” your voice low. The truth was that the temperature inside the grand mansion was one of the few things you could control in your life. It was rather childish, but you couldn’t care less.

“I see…” he sighed. The thumb came to a halt. “There is something I have been wanting to discuss with you.”

The Captain often gave you the illusion that you had something to say in the matter of discussion, but it was only that, an illusion. What he said was final. That much you knew.

“Oh. Go on” your voice was devoid of any emotion as your mind raced through all the possibilities of what he wanted to discuss with you.

“I’m going to Natlan in the search of the gnosis” his hand left your shoulder. “And I want you to come with” his words were filled with authority.

You swallowed as your eyes widened. Natlan…. You had never set foot outside of your homeland. And now he wanted you to come with him to Natlan? You almost wanted to laugh. This was really the last thing you had expected to hear from the rigid man.

You turned around to face him. His beloved helmet was nowhere to be seen. What met you were his dark midnight blue eyes that reminded you of the deep Snezhnayan waters that you could see from your bedroom window. His eyes were deep and you felt like you could drown in the endless blues. His star-like pupils stared right back at you with a whirlwind of emotions you could only hope to place.

A scar ran down one of his eyes and you wondered how he had managed to escape with his eye intact. Multiple other scars littered his skin, but the most noticeable save form the one over his eye, were the one straight over his nose. It had faded to a white colour, but you could imagine it must have looked quite bad when he first got it.

Due to his Khaenri'an blood, his skin was filled with blue veins accompanied with black lines that ran through the entirety of his body. His mouth looked rather normal, but when he smiled or sneered it stretched a little too far for a normal human being. Behind his pale lips were sharp teeth that belonged more in the jaws of a hound, rather than a man. His tongue was long, but he rarely made it known.

Despite the curse he suffered from, he was an undeniable handsome man. His beauty was something that greatly unnerved you as he seemed almost like a beast that made itself appear human in order to come closer to its prey. He was unsettling with his imposing height and muscles, yet you found it hard to tear your eyes from his own.

“Do I have a choice?” your voice were meek despite your effort at sounding indifferent.

He huffed and the corner of his lips turned slightly downward as his dark eyebrows furrowed. “No” Capitano’s voice was soft as if he tried to calm you down. It came as no surprise that he had long sensed your inner turmoil.

His large hands cupped your face gently. His thumbs stroking your cheekbones. He stared at you for a while before he pulled you into an embrace. His strong arms caging you in as your face was pressed against his muscular chest. His hand stroked your back and you found yourself getting calmer.

“I think a change of scenery will do you good” the bit that he was incapable of departing from you for a long period of time was left unsaid, yet the words hung heavy in the air. Suddenly the living room felt as hot as the steps of Natlan.

His hand traveled up to your head were it intertwined with your soft locks. His head came down slightly as he inhaled your scent in a rather desperate motion that seemed unfit for the 1st Harbinger.

“Jeg elsker deg [Name]” the words that left his lips were in the national language of his homeland. Though you didn’t know the language, you understood all too well what those words meant.

Translation

Norwegian → English

Jeg elsker deg = I love you

[entitled-fangirl]

I love hearing about your day.

Felix Catton x reader

SMUT

Summary: Felix and the reader enjoy some time together in the bath as she tells him about her day. Or... tries to.

Words: 1,064

Warnings: Smut, fingering, teasing, overstimulating, cursing

Masterlist

18+ PLEASE

.........................................................................

Felix lay in the bath, his body entirely relaxed. His head laid back, resting on the rim of the tub. It had been a long day.

His girlfriend opened the door with a loud creak. She rested against the doorframe, simply watching him with an admiral look in her eye. How could she not? Felix was beautiful. His body, his eyes, his soul- all the definition of beautiful.

His head turned to look at her, a smirk pulling at his lips lazily. “Care to join me, angel?”

It was her turn to smile now. What a ridiculous question. He could ask anything of her and without question she’d do it. 

She took small steps towards the tub, kneeling in front of it. “D’You think it’s big enough for both of us?”

He moved his head back against the tub, looking at the ceiling. “One way to find out.”

She let out a small laugh before she stood, slowly stripping herself of her clothes. He turned his head, watching with a soft gaze. How he adored her, too.

He held out a hand, which she graciously took, helping her into the bath. He maneuvered her body to where her back rested against his strong chest.

A deep sigh escaped her lips at the feeling of the warm water and his warm embrace.

He smiled, moving his head down to kiss her shoulder gently. His lips trailed up her neck. Her whole body shuddered as he placed a kiss behind her ear.

She felt his smile against her neck as he began to speak, “Tell me about your day, angel.”

She shifted. “Well, you were there for most of it.”

He kissed her shoulder again, his left hand moving to hold the side of her thigh. “Don’t care. I wanna know.”

She nods, focusing on her words, “I, I uh… woke up with you. Breakfast. Then I went back to our room to change. Terribly hard to pick which bikini to wear…”

He hums softly against her neck to show he’s listening. His right hand trailing down from her bicep to her hip.

She took this as a cue to keep going, “I picked the red one. It’s my favorite. I like the way the bottoms fit. And then met back with you at the pond, of course…”

His hand continued trailing down to her upper thigh, her breathing starting to quicken on instinct.

“…I worried so much about what I was to wear and I didn’t even swim. But I still think I-,” her voice trailed off in a quick breath in as Felix’s hand now rested over her core.

His lips neared her ear in a whisper, “Keep going.”

She took a deep breath, her jaw clenched. “After that, I spend my time in the library reading…”

He kissed her ear, his middle finger gently touching her slit. “What did you read? Tell me.”

“I was… I was reading.. I read…” her train of thought was gone.

He continued to tease her. “What, angel? Something wrong? I just want to hear about your day.”

She mouth closed as she let out a hum. “I was reading ’Pride and Prejudice.’”

He took that as an answer. “Never read it. Tell me.”

She knew he didn’t care about the plot. He just wanted to see her fall apart. But she didn’t care either. Anything to get him to touch her. “It’s, uh, a love story…”

“Mm-hmm. And?” His middle finger moved up and down at a constant pace, waiting for the moment to strike.

God, he was insufferable with his teasing. “The woman is poor and the man is… rich, but he has a temper about… about him… he’s… quite…quite brooding…”

He lets a soft breath out. “And they fall in love?”

Her right hand gently grips his wrist as he continues to toy with her. “Yes, they-, “ her words gone as a moan left her mouth, his finger now inside her. 

He chuckles softly at her reaction, “Don’t stop, angel. I want to hear what happens.”

His finger starts to pump in and out of her as her grip on his wrist becomes iron. Her other hand reaches up to grip the side of the bathtub.

“There’s a… a ball they attend.. and…and… God, Felix…,” she whines, her head falling back to rest on his shoulder.

“Fuck, angel,” he teased, “You don’t even know what it’s about?”

“I do. I do. I just…” 

“Just what?”

“I can’t… I can’t breath when.. when I’m around you…”

His movements stop. The only sound heard in the bathroom is her soft pants as she tries to catch her breath again. “Fuck, Felix,” she pants under her breath. She can practically feel the smile he has on his face. 

“I love hearing about your day.”

And he pushes in two fingers.

She falls apart, a whine coming from her throat at the feeling. Her body rests against his chest for support. They both know she wouldn’t be able to support herself even if she tried at this point.

He continues it for her, his voice in her ear, as he moves his fingers back and forth into her. “They go to a ball. They dance together. She realizes he’s not a bad guy, and he realizes there’s nothing wrong with her. Does that sound right, angel?”

She can’t speak. Her whines and moans are all he gets from her as his digits move at a constant speed. He chuckles, “Need me to stop, love?”

Her grip tightens on his wrist. “Please… Please, Felix.. don’t… ung… don’t stop…,” she moans, her voice echoing off the bathroom walls. 

“Alright. Anything for you.” His thumb reaches up to rub small circles on her clit.

She can’t handle it anymore. Tears spring to her eyes, her grip on him turning her knuckles white. Her back arches. “I can’t…” 

She’s overstimulated, and Felix grins at it. He places kisses on her neck and shoulders again gently, “Let go then, angel. I’ve got you. Just let go.”

Her orgasm comes with a small cry from her, his thumb continues to move on her clit to prolong the feeling. She pants hard, her chest expanding with every breath. After a few moments, her body falls limp against his again, exhausted. 

He chuckles, kissing the top of her head, “I love hearing about your day.”

[rafesangelita]

rafe + breeding kink

warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie

a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol

“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.

“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.

“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.

“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”

rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.

you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.

“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.

he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.

rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.

you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.

“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.

“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.

with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.

burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.

you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.

rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.

“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.

you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”