Jones

Kora °• 23°• she/her I luv older men ;)

[heauxplesslydevoted]

If you’re making posts about the Off Campus boys and purposely excluding Jalen/Tucker, you’re weird. I’ll even take it a step further and say you’re sinister

[k1tk4ttt]

How I feel reading smut while being scared of intimacy in real life

[lalaleeiillaa]

“yeah i read a lot!”

“oh awesome! What books do you read?”

[richeeduvie]

Feeding Leggy <3

Jack's chubby little daughter, who's half of you (the woman to ruin him), decides she has every right to share her snacks with his prosthetic.

wc: 1.4k // ft. Jack suffering from Chubby's cuteness. That's all. // fic directory // finally got my computer to connect to the internet, but I'm treating myself to cookie dough after this.

The ruining of Jack’s heart for the eightieth time is the crime of, you guessed it, the chubby little daughter you’ve given him.

It happens in the living room on an ordinary afternoon when he’s on the couch, and he’s watching her eat banana puffs with the clumsy pinch babies do as they try to shove something in their mouth.

At least it’s something edible this time. But, funnily enough, she’s in a shirt with peaches on it. 

“Fake fan.”

He’s being ambushed by this all-too-tender sight. He’s allowed to make fun. She doesn’t even understand what he’s saying, and that’s apparent when she turns her head to him, offering a banana puff from the bowl in her lap. 

His prosthetic is off for the afternoon, leaning on the coffee table. 

“No. I’m fine, Chubs. But thank you.”

Chubby’s not tinnie-tiny anymore, though. She’s still very much a baby. She always will be. Jack needs that to be true. But the kid’s got opinions now, more acts he couldn’t guess the intention of, and he assumes that’s why she completely ignores him and drops a banana puff onto his thigh. 

“Alright. Thank you for ignoring me. I’ll enjoy your fine cuisine.” 

Jack pops it into his mouth right when he notices his daughter has taken to staring wide-eyed at something in front of her.

When his sight follows, he finds that it’s his prosthetic. Which is just a part of the room now. 

Shouldn’t be something her little head tilts at, but it tilts with a puff halfway to her mouth. 

“Hey, what’re you plotting?”

She ignores him. Of course. She’s totally right to, but Jack’s…Jack is already suspicious. He’s gotten thirteen months to spend with Chubby, the second half of his girls, to know that that sort of look rarely ends in anything manageable. Don’t fucking even, baby. 

He’s quicker than her, even without the prosthetic. He’ll fucking hop if he has to. 

“Eh, eh-eh.”

“Chubby, whatever you’re thinking of doing—”

With a little grunt, Chubby sets her bowl aside. It tips. A couple of puffs tumble onto the couch, which, obviously, the kid doesn’t care about the clean up. Bigger things are at stake, apparently.

Jack couldn’t tell God what, but his girl’s on a mission as she stands up with a wobble before climbing down. 

“Ehhhh.”

“Hey, careful—”

On cue, you come around the corner to catch the shift in his posture. The last thing he needs is you to get a front row seat to the baby you grew, cracking her head open. 

“What’s going on?”

Jack doesn’t take his eyes off her. 

“I don’t know yet.”

Chubby’s able to grab a handful of puffs from the bowl before turning to his…prosthetic. Which, yeah, that’s what she was looking at, but now her intention’s more obvious. You know. Just enough to fuck him up. 

He doesn’t know to you that his ruin is as obvious as Chubby’s mission. 

“Uh-oh.”

If she’s eating, then perhaps his leg should be eating too. Because somewhere in her baby brain, your daughter has decided Jack’s prosthetic is a doll. 

Is there a cuter way to crust Jack’s heart? 

Chubby sits down in front of the prosthetic as she lays one hand on the floor to steady herself. 

And just then, she lifts one of the puffs toward the lower part of it. 

Like a saint feeding the fucking poor. Or. Yeah. A kid feeding her doll.

“Sa-yee ah, Leeg.”

…Say ah, leg?

You could choke on how cute this is, and you already feel tears welling up when she pushes the puff against the carbon fiber. She smushes it, practically.

It sticks for a second before falling onto the floor.

“Ah!”

Chubby gasps. This is the first time, you think, that you’ve seen your baby offended. 

“Now you know how Mommy and Dada feel when we try to feed you.”

There’s a humor in this situation that you have no trouble finding. You’ll blame the tears on postpartum hormones even though it’s been more than a year since you’ve had her. But Jack…with the way he’s looking at the daughter you’ve given him. 

The lines in his face, marked by time, have slackened. You think he’s done for.

“...Why are you—mm.” Jack runs a hand over his stubble. “Why’re you feeding my leg, baby?” 

You were pretty stupid to think that, with him, the shock of being loved by a tiny, chubby person who shares his blood would have dulled by now. No. Dull’s a mean word. That it would’ve softened by now. 

“Ehh. Da.”

Nope. You’re only in love with how fatherhood with Chubby will ruin him every time.

“No one should be left out of snacktime, Dad.” 

Not even his fucking leg, apparently. 

Jack leans forward, smile growing thin and wavering at your words. He tries to pretend that you can’t notice his throat bobbing. He stares at his baby girl, trying again. 

She goes in with another determined offering of a puff that also falls to the floor. 

“No, baby.” 

His voice is already rough. How the hell did that happen? He was fine a minute ago, and now you can definitely hear him coming undone like the first time—well. No. The first time was when he heard Chub’s heartbeat. He was pretty fucking bad then, wasn’t he? He’s better here. Yeah? He’s not crying, at least. 

“Dada’s prosthetic doesn’t eat, okay? Dada eats. But not his leg.”

Chubby turns to Jack, and he nearly scoffs at the look of immediate disappointment on her face. She shakes her head. 

“Yeah. How could I say something so stupid?”

She points at the prosthetic. 

“Eh-eh.”

Jack has to look away for a moment. 

“Jack, you okay?”

Can’t really help how his chest is turning into something unbearable and too fucking big for the side of the moment, can he, kid? At least she reminds him to take his heart medication. There’s the silver lining in the ruin. The other one is that you’re the reason he takes it. The only reason anyone should be sick to the pulse is you. And the baby that you made.

“M’ fine, Sleepy.”

He looks back to find Chubby trying again, leaning closer and pressing the snack to the side of the socket. She’s so determined for the baby that she is, and Jack thinks for a second that she might be able to solve the problem of his prosthetic’s anatomy if the adults around her stop being Debbie Downers. 

Thinking your kid can do anything is a part of parenthood. Right? Right. 

“Just…you think she knows what she’s doing?”

You can only think why this is beautifully awful for Jack’s heart is because of what’s left unsaid beneath the surface of something so ridiculously cute. Chubby feeding his prosthetic turns your heart inside out, too, but in her head, the leg is just a part of Dada, and therefore part of what she loves.

Things in this family get fed and included, so why wouldn’t she think his leg deserves a snack? 

You and he are raising her well.

“AH! Ahhhh! Leegy eah!”

Jack laughs with a slight snort when the baby manages to wedge a puff into the seam near the top. She’s lighting up like the cutest Christmas tree in the world.

His laugh, in your opinion, is sorta broken. 

Chubby claps her little hands, happy as can be, before reaching back into the bowl, having rid herself of the first handful because her hands are small. And dimpled. It was, like, five puffs and they’re all on the damn floor now. 

“Nope.” 

Jack leans forward and catches her gently around the middle before she can begin the next course. “That’s enough. It’s full.”

Chubby squeals at being scooped up, but she’s settled quickly on his good leg, his hand at her stomach to steady her. He looks to his prosthetic with its faint, sticky smears from little fingers.

She leans against his chest and points again.

“Lee eh?”

Jack nods. Mockery feels impossible right now. Being normal about this even more so. 

“Yeah. You gave my leg a snack.”

“Yayyyyy.”

You come down, kissing Chubby’s cheek and the corner of his mouth. You know. Just to really do him in. Right? He’s guessing right. 

“You are so, so gone, Doctor."

Jack looks down at the daughter you’ve made with him. She’s kicking both feet. She was feeding banana puffs to his prosthetic. You were standing near, knowing exactly why it hurts. 

“I know.”

That he does. Heaven on earth might just send him to hell.

[eyesxxyou]

Matt slamming Dex's face against the table in the interrogation scene only tells me one thing... Dex is a gigantic masochistic pain slut. Him smiling and saying "thank you"??? He absolutely loves being hurt. He loves hate fucking. He loves walking that thin line that separates pain from pleasure and he loves it EVEN MORE when the line doesn't exist at all and they just fully become one.

Anyway, Gun kink with Dex 🫶

[p1stach-io]

smh I wish could flirt w jack abbot so baddddd I want to kid with him about the whole “never a j name” thing because his old ass probably doesn’t even know that’s a thing 😭

what’s in a name?

pairing: jack abbot x reader

word count: 1.0k

content: age gap vibes, heavy flirting, sexual tension, mutual pining, alcohol, smoking references.

author’s note: anon i think you may be in my walls because i literally had this thought before (jack may be one of the worst of the “j” names (lmfao)). so i had to just write this small piece immediately before it escaped my brain.

you were taking your sweet time wiping down the back counter, stacking clean glasses with a rhythmic clink. the bar was mostly quiet, the late-night lull finally settling in. the rhythmic hum of the ice machine and the low, soulful blues track playing from the speakers filled the space between a few patrons.

the clink of clean glasses was the only thing that was anchoring you to your shift. truth be told, your attention had been entirely down at the far end of the bar for the last twenty ish minutes.

and you knew damn well his attention was right on you.

jack abbot was hunched over the mahogany counter, the sleeves of his button-down rolled up to his forearms, his hands loosely cupping a lowball glass.

between the dim overhead pendant light throwing soft shadows across his jaw and the deep lines of exhaustion etched around his eyes, he looked every bit the weary workaholic carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

but he hadn't touched his phone once. he had been watching you move around the space since the moment he walked in.

your hair was pulled back from your face in an undone knot which held two unlit cigarettes. it was a habit he had already kind of lectured you about on your last date, his stern doctor persona coming out to tell you to consider quitting.

you had just laughed it off, leaning in to blow a slow, deliberate cloud of smoke away from his face, watching the way his breath caught and his eyes darkened in a way that was anything but clinical.

now, as you moved under the warm bar lights in a low-cut tank top, his dark gaze followed the line of your collarbone, tracking the slow rise and fall of your chest. every time you caught his eye, a heavy, familiar heat flared up between you. it was the exact same look he had used on your last two dates to melt away any lingering reservations you had.

grabbing a fresh rag, you slowly worked your way down the bar, polishing the wood until you were standing right across from him. you leaned your forearms on the counter, tilting your chest forward just enough to make his eyes dip before they snapped back up to yours.

you had his undivided attention.

a faint, tired smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—the kind of soft, genuine smile he seemed to reserve just for you.

"hi," he said, his voice low and heavy with a long day's fatigue. "i was starting to think you were ignoring me."

"never," you murmured, tilting your head, letting your eyes linger on the soft line of his jaw. "just earning a living, jack. though, looking at you right now, i'm realizing i might need to reevaluate my choices."

he paused, a flicker of genuine amusement mixing with the exhaustion in his eyes. he slowly set his glass down, turning his torso fully toward you, his gaze locked onto yours. "is that so? and what choices would those be? am i a bad customer? did i do something wrong?"

"no, everything is perfect that's the problem," you said, keeping your voice smooth and low as you leaned a little closer. your eyes dropped briefly to his lips before meeting his eyes again. "it's an inherent issue. i was doing some thinking while watching you watch me from across the room, and i realized i'm breaking a fundamental rule here."

jack stared at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling as a slow grin began to form. "a fundamental rule? please enlighten me."

"i really shouldn't be letting myself get this attached to a guy whose name starts with a j. it's like an automatic red flag."

the silence stretched, thick and heavy, the soulful blues music from the speakers drifting between you. jack just looked at you, utterly, beautifully baffled. "...a j name?"

"yeah. you can never trust a j name. it's a universal law."

he looked down at his glass, then back up at you, trying to find the punchline in the shift of your features. "what the hell does the first letter of a name have to do with anything? is this some internet nonsense i missed?"

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud, your gaze dropping to the crinkles around his eyes. oh, god. his old ass really has absolutely no idea.

"it's not nonsense, jack, it's science," you teased, dropping your voice to a conspiratorial whisper that forced him to lean over the counter to catch it.

"johns, jasons, joshs, jameses, jacks... you guys are always trouble. built-in heartbreakers. i'm really just trying to protect my peace here before date number three."

jack let out a sudden laugh, the tension instantly melting right out of his broad shoulders. he leaned back against his stool, crossing his arms over his chest, looking at you with a mix of rich amusement and undeniable fondness.

"trouble, huh?" he murmured. his eyes glinted in the low light, dark and heavy as they slowly scanned your face, before lingering on the cigarettes tucked into your hair. "between the smoking habit and this superstition, i'm starting to think you're the one who's trouble."

he leaned back over the counter, closing the distance between you until you could catch the faint, woody scent of his cologne. his voice dropped a register, growing softer, intensely intimate. "but i would like to think i've already proven i'm the exception to your little rule."

"have you?" you arched an eyebrow, the heat between you humming tight and electric.

"tell you what," jack said, his eyes dropping to your lips, his hand sliding just a fraction closer to yours on the mahogany wood. "pour yourself a glass, slide around to this side of the bar, and keep judging my character. see if i'm worth breaking your rule for."

you smiled, the playful banter settling into something thick and heavy. you reached down, grabbing a clean glass from under the counter.

"alright, jack," you said, pouring a splash into the glass and locking eyes with him. "i guess i can give you a chance to clear your name."

[pxterparkerfilmss]

dex????? buck???? involve me.

[grlchrm]

Refreshing the FUCK out of the Benjamin Poindexter x Reader tags

[p1stach-io]

almost home: masterlist

pairing: jack abbot x reader

content: divorce/separation, co-parenting dynamics, language, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, mild injuries, mentions of infertility, mentions of medical procedures/injections, references to therapy and anxiety, unresolved feelings, conflict.

series summary: after seventeen years of marriage, one teenage daughter, and a relationship slowly worn thin by exhaustion and grief, you and your husband finally let each other go.

except divorce doesn’t really mean separation when there’s still school pickups, shared calendars, and a daughter determined to keep both her parents stitched into the same orbit.

almost home - when your daughter gets suspended at school, you end up in the er asking your estranged husband to talk some sense into her. (1.3k)

almost home: two - your daughter’s suspension lands you and jack in a meeting with her school principal. (2.3k)

almost home: three - when you return to work, your colleagues encourage you to move on—using a dating app you already regret downloading. (3.5k)

almost home: four - an uncomfortable conversation threatens to throw the temporary peace you and jack have built away. (3.8k)

almost home: five - months later at chase’s science fair jack finally meets daniel. and the between you and him begins to fracture. (4.4k)

almost home: six

i was really going to keep this as a one shot but it’s grown beyond that single draft so i’ll give it its own little masterlist. !! thank you all for reading so far 🫀

[peaky-void]

😭😭😭 Read this in one sitting, that's how much it got me hooked. So talented AND I NEED MOREEEEEE RN PLSSS.

[ladybuggirlll]

john tucker isn’t backwards hat frat boy enough for you people so i guess more for me. my man stays underrated by you ungrateful people.

[peaky-void]

I need more bullseye fics and more mateo diaz fics 😭😫 pls im literally gonna start watching off campus just because lol. Im already halfway through daredevil😫

[caseysdictionary]

the walk omfg guys im tweaking so hard over this man he literally walks like its heavy omg

[peaky-void]

I'm so sorry people have been horrible about PT 2 to star-crossed and threatening you. What the actual hell is wrong with people?!!! I'm a bit like you and prefer a difinitive ending but the open one you did was amazing, seriously, it was so good. And I've been STARVED for Abbot angst so you were doing me a massive favour, I jumped at those 2 fics when I saw them. Just wanted to send you a little positivity. X 💜

Thank you so much for this, it honestly means more than you knowwww 🥹💜😭

The negativity caught me so off guard esp since it was so backhanded lol, but messages like yours genuinely make it feel worth it. I’m really glad you enjoyed the ending even if it was a bit open, and the angst 😭 I had sososo much funn writing it!!

Your support means everything, truly. Thank you for taking the time to send this 💜

[peaky-void]

Hihi! So I have alot of people requesting a p2 of Star-crossed. I actually wrote it but I deleted it because of all the fucking hate and threats I received because it wasn't a sad ending lol!! Majority of the people asked for a happy ending and some for a sad ending. Because of this I made it an open ending to keep everyone satisfied. But clearly it didnt fucking work. My messages are open to everyone to talk about anything. I have so much wonderful people messaging me their thoughts and reviews about my fics, some even spoke to me about their thoughts of the ending and it was wonderful.. why? Because they were respectful and kind about it. My messages are open to rant and talk to me, not to fucking abuse me because of your rude opinions on my fic that I wrote. I love when people give me criticism and tell me their honest thoughts, I love seeing the readers pov. I usually dgaf but it got to a point where everytime I looked at my fic I felt such disappointment and dissatisfaction. I genuinely love when people message me but if you want to send me hate and threats then comment publicly on my fic. Stop being a fucking coward. So sorry, I just had to get this off my chest. Gonna shove this up ur loose hairy asshole

[peaky-void]

“Seven months of wondering if love still counts when it only survives in the dark.” GAGGED. please tell me you’re considering any sort of continuation to the story 😭😭

NSIAYAIWH no stopp, if you want me to I defo will. I was struggling to decide if I should make it a one shot or a full fic and... yes I will continue just because of you🤣😭😭

[peaky-void]

Oh, and am I the only one that had this irrational fear that the fic im writing has been written before? Like I swear im being original and boom im not, like I promise im not trying to copy you😭😭

[peaky-void]

My law and research assignments has been eating my ass up :(

So instead of actually doing it, I wrote a Jack Abbott fic lol. Is it angsty? Yes, why u may ask.. because im stressed out and need to pour my emotions in something other than my fuckass assignments!!