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lazyneonrabbitt · 3 days

Text

Get rid of it.

🐺Daryl Dixon x Reader

You and Daryl never fought, until you did. Daryl relives old traumas while you stay at Hilltop.

To everyone around, you and Daryl seemed like the perfect couple.

And you two felt like it too.

Daryl always claimed to be blessed having you at his side. You had never once complained about his upbringing showing through in his actions, or got scared of him after finding out what he was. A monster. But not to you.

The two of you were the perfect picture for a new family.

Except that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The two of you had never fought in your time together, not even when Daryl distanced himself after he thought he scared you and convinced himself you wanted to leave. But today the whole community was turned upside down by Daryl’s roaring voice directed at no one else but you.

You had cone back from the infirmary after some nausea and constant tiredness, only to find out you and Daryl had been less careful when being intimate than you at first thought. Your heart pounded out of your chest as you walked into the house where he sat in his chair, cleaning his crossbow.

“Daryl, look!” You were smiling so bright it piqued Daryl’s interest enough to put down his stuff and get up to look at the little thing in your outstretched hands.

“Nah.” His eyes went wide with horror, all color draining from him as he shoved you aside and in long strides barely made it to the counter before his lunch met the sink. You followed his movements and stared in shock. You never saw him puke, ever. He could stomach anything, never even getting nauseous in the slightest but now you watched him empty his stomach right there in front of you.

Your arms lowered as you pocketed the little white stick that showed the perfect little future others would often joke about. It was going to become real now and you were excited, but it seemed Daryl felt different about it.

With tears streaming down his cheeks and drool hanging off his lip he turned his head ever so slightly to look at you. “Ya never asked me. M’tellin’ ya no, right now.” He was still heaving over the sink, barely moving as he stood, visibly shaking on his legs.

“Daryl, you okay?” Moving forward ever so carefully you reached out for his arm but got your hand swatted away with a loud, angry growl.

“Get the FUCK away from me!” The change in his voice knocked the wind out of you, making you back up all the way agains the front door where you had a chance to run but still see Daryl. “Daryl, what’s going on?” The fear was catching up to you and you felt disgusted by yourself. You didn’t fear him, it was one of the qualities he loved about you and praised you for but now with his strange reaction you couldn’t help but want to run and hide.

Especially because he was now making his way up to you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and a look in his eyes you couldn’t seem to figure out.

You were halfway onto the porch, your heartbeat ringing so loud in your ears you barely heard his snarls. “I thought you’d be happy.. I want this.” You stammered through the short sentence, hand gripping the edge of the stairs so hard you were convinced you’d bruise your fingers.

With a rough breath Daryl got right in your face. “Ain’t NO WAY I’m lettin’ ya go an’ do this.” his hand swung out, right in front of your face, but passing it barely as he pointed back in the direction of the infirmary. “Ne’er asked ya fer a kid!” His voice traveled, and already started gathering curious looks from folks. “Yer gonna march yer ass back to Denise, and get FUCKIN’ RID OF IT!”

His roared command had you stagger backwards and almost trip down the stairs, barely catching yourself before storming off in fear.

You wanted to scream back at him, tell him how badly you wanted this. For how long you had wanted this but words caught in the back of your throat and wouldn’t come out so you just did as he asked and ran.

Denise immediately caught on when you came back in crying your eyes out, letting you sit off to the side until you ran out of tears and caught your breath enough to talk somewhat okay again.

“I take he didn’t like the surprise? I’m really sorry. I hope he just needs some time to let it all sink in.” Denise had sat down cross-legged on the floor with you, holding out a hand for you to take and ground yourself.

“He got so scared.” You were barely believing your own words. Daryl didn’t get scared ever. “Then he got mad..”

Your words shocked the medic, having known and gotten close to Daryl for a while now and had seen her share of arguments between the archer and other adults in the community, but to say she had ever seen him seriously mad would be a lie. “I’m so sorry. What did he say?”

Back at the house Rick had sent the onlookers away as he and Carol went inside, following after their angry friend.

“Daryl.” Rick’s tone was stern, his aura oozing authority but quickly dropping the act as he saw his brother’s bloodshot eyes and trembling hands. Carol read each and every one of his tells like she was the one who labeled them all in the first place and knew he was close to losing the last bit of his humanity he was currently desperately clinging onto. “Please tell us what happened?”

She knew her action could end up badly but decided to step towards her best friend, offering a hand to ground him like you normally would when his emotions got the best of him. The growl that left the hunter as he breathed out filled the room with an eery energy. Back at the quarry when Daryl still lost his temper more often there were woods around where he could run and hide into, but now he was inside of a house, inside of a community with high walls that even he couldn’t climb easily. He had to keep a hold over himself now.

“..Pup.” He had a difficulty finding his words, eyes unable to focus on anything and looking frantically around the room. “She.. She tol’ me jus’ now.” Hands went from pockets to sleeve ends back to being chewed on or swiping at loose strands of hair that were suddenly the most distracting things in life, wanting to tear them out right that second. “Sent ‘er off to Denise.”

"Why send her to the infirmary, Daryl?" It was Rick's turn to question him again. He was unsure of his reasonings, why would he send you away after such news?

Daryl’s annoyed but confused grunt had the other two confused along with him. Were they supposed to know his reasonings? He never spoke about the subject of having a family with you, they only knew about his shitty father and dead mother.

“Get outta my house.” Daryl’s voice was calm and the message was clear. After giving each other a look they agreed it was best to follow the man’s request and leave him be for now. Halfway out of the door though, they both stopped and turned to face their friend once more. “You’ll do great, don’t doubt that please.” Carol’s look was one of sadness while Rick added to her reassuring words with a smile and a nod.

Neither did anything to calm the hurt inside of Daryl, instead only getting on his nerves more than they already had by showing up.

“I said get the FUCK OUT.” With a long stride forward he backed them out onto the porch with a roar and slammed the door shut, locking it and retreating downstairs.

While Daryl turned to sleep to keep his anger at bay, Rick went home and Carol took a detour to find you and Denise still sitting on the floor of the infirmary.

Your eyes were puffy and red as you looked at her from down below and followed her movements to where she sat down with you two.

With a heavy heart you repeated the events from before Carol spoke with Daryl and after some more reassuring she agreed to walk you home again.

Once inside you thanked the universe for Daryl not being in the main area and you could go to bed without any more trouble.

Sadly drama didn’t stay at bay for long. The next you were sitting at the dinner table with your breakfast when Daryl came upstairs from his basement room, looking like absolute hell. His hair was an even bigger mess than it normally was in the morning, and you swore the bags under his eyes were a few shades darker than usual.

You wanted to ask him how he was feeling, but the stare and low growl that left him was enough of an answer by itself.

Sighing at yourself you decided to give him more time and went to follow your daily routines as usual and let him make the initial contact when he was up for it.

You ate dinner alone that evening. The other half of your bed stayed empty that night. And another scowl after the first few sniffs of the day were again the only interaction you had.

Today’s issue was worse. You both had nothing to do and were going to be in each others’ way somehow.

You were spending the day around the house doing chores, taking a quick shower and making dinner prep early so you had some time to relax. You were having a small meal to take your new vitamins with when Daryl came upstairs and tried his best to avoid you. His only problem was his weapons that laid beside you on the table.

Involuntarily he sniffed the air, like a reflex his animal side never is human form and all he could do was try to shake off the conflicting feelings it brought. He wanted to bury his nose in your hair and keep inhaling your delicious scent, but with every intake of breath it felt like someone shot a bolt through his chest, the screaming in his head only getting louder each time.

“I’ll leave if you want me to.” Your tone was dry and unamused. “S’not it..” It was the most he had said to you since your last fight, but it was clear he was holding back a lot of his thoughts. You knew Daryl had a horrible upbringing and were aware of his fear of being a bad parental figure, but he had proven the opposite many times over already. Still you got up to put your plate away, “You know you’re the only one who thinks you’d be a shitty dad, right?”

Your words seemed to only anger him further as he growled way louder now, making you turn to him and see him standing in the middle of the room, visibly shaking. “Why aint ya listnin’ ta me?” He wasn’t looking you in the eyes, nervously moved his weight from one foot to the other.

Why weren’t you listening? He had barely heard the news and freaked out so bad he never gave you a chance to talk before barking you out the door. Literally.

“Listen to you?” Now it was your turn to get angry. “You haven’t even given me a chance to talk!” Your sudden snap had him step back, eyes wide in panic. “Not even a chance to discus! An immediate no and angry barking was all I got. You wouldn’t even let me tell you how bad I want this, for how goddamn long I’ve wanted this!”

Your blood boiled now, were you finally seeing that bad side Daryl always talked about? “I’m keeping it. Just stay away if you can’t agree.” With your arms crossed over your chest you sniffled, all the fighting was really getting to you.

“Just FUCKIN’ listen!” Daryl’s words more of a roar than a yell, coming from deep down along with the change in his eyes that only happened when his beast tried to come out.

“I ain’t gonna let tha’ thing kill ya! Not like it killed her!” The second the words left his lips he dropped to his knees, his body jerking with each ugly sob that racked his entire being as the memories he tried to forget resurfaced with a force that knocked the wind out of him.

“F— fuck..”

With each intake of breath your scent filled his nostrils and brought back the trauma he so desperately tried to keep at bay. He shared more with his loved ones these days, but not this. Never this.

——

“Dee, hey.” Her voice was quiet, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, making him quicken his steps up her driveway where he had just parked his bike. Within seconds he her, his face stuffed in her frizzy curls. “God, ya smell delicious today. Wanna live ‘ere With ma face in yer neck.” The low grumble in his chest was something she could never get enough of, but she needed to pry him off in order to continue with his surprise. “Come inside, baby. Got something for ya. Promise you’ll love it.”

Once inside he found a small box with his name on it. “Go on, look!” Daryl sat himself down on the blanketed couch, much nicer than the ratty one full of holes and broken springs he had at home. He ever so carefully reached and lifted the lid off the box, his eyes lifting to stare at his girlfriend. “Yer kiddin’ me, aintya?” His briht blue eyes shone with excitement at the sight of the small white plastic showing off two little pink lines that indicated the next step towards their future.

“Mom was so excited, she insisted in coming along because she said she knew already anyways.” She laughed at her lover as he had gotten up to round the small table and envelop her in the most loving hug. “Yer mom’s amazin’ fer bein’ fine with us. With this.” He barely believed it every time he came up to her home. He found someone who looked past his racist family members and actively helped him lessen those habits integrated into his person from a young age. Even her family accepted the young ‘white trash’ boy her daughter had brought home those years ago. Hell, he was more than happy to keep his family out of this whole ordeal and never see them again after this news.

“Shit, we gotta get all kinds’a baby stuff now. Ain’t sure where ta start..” There was another thing prodding at the back of his mind. “Hey, what’s yer parents gon’ say when they see the kid and it aint, ya know..” He made a hand gesture to figure out how to say what he wanted, but failing entirely. “What if it aint human?”

The soft giggle that left her lips was like heaven on earth and calmed his nerves in a second. “Dee, they know about you and accepted that part of you too, even if they’ve never seen it before.”

That day’s news was followed by a few days of Daryl packing up his belongings and officially moving in with his partner, leaving his family behind for safety reasons. If they ever found out he was having a child with someone who wasn’t as much white trash as they were, shotguns would be loaded and a hunt would be started.

To their family’s luck the other Dixons stayed away and the weeks passed quietly and turned into months. The spare room cleared out and turned into a nursery for the little one. Even without the usual doctor’s appointments due to Daryl’s fear of seeing something they shouldn’t on the ultrasound she was healthy and the kid had a steady heartbeat.

Only two more weeks before they’d meet their child.

With time passing quick they got a lot of visits from her parents. While mom stayed with the mother to be and helped with cooking and laundry, keeping the house clean and making sure the soon to be mother was doing alright, the men w worked on the last finishing touches in the nursery and baby-proofing the home.

After working the whole day everyone had gathered in the kitchen, where father sat at the dinner table and mother cooked while the two lovers stood leaning agains the counter. Daryl’s back rested against the cupboards with her back against his front, his hands below her belly to relieve some weight. “Kid’s active. Been like tha’ all day?” Even now Daryl still had his nose in the crook of her neck, taking in her delicious scent.

With all the plates and food on the moved out of Daryl’s grasp, slowly waddling towards her spot as Daryl grabbed their drinks off the counter. His back was turned to her what she groaned in pain. He turned just in time to see her drop to her knees and let out a cry. In a second her scent turned foul as she screamed.

Blood.

Her pastel sweats stained red down to her knees, choked sobs leaving her as her arms clutched around her swollen belly that violently spasmed.

No. It wasn’t her muscles spasming. The pup woke early and needed a way out. He picked up the energy of a panicked wolf amidst the chaos of his own fear, her pain and her parents’ shouting.

Frantic breaths and quickened heartbeats then turned to silence, and with a loud thud she fell.

His vision went black and the voices now screamed at him. “I knew we shouldn’t have let her go through with this! I warned you it wasn’t safe!” The man’s voice rung right above him where Daryl knelt over his love, ear pressed against her chest, her belly but hearing nothing. Only the loud, soul crushing sobs of her mother. “Y.. You.. Killed.. Her..” she spoke between sobs. He didn’t know what to do, his body ached all over and his mind howled to drown out the curses thrown at him.

“You’re nothing but a monster! A.. A murderer!” That was the last thing he heard before he lost himself and ran. His feral side took over and forced him to turn, run back to the woods he knew like home.

Its where he spent weeks, hiding from humanity. Its where he swore to never have another child again.

——

“Please.. Get rid of it, m’beggin’ ya..” His gaze was still focused on the floor, a wet stain from his tears right under his shaking form.

His words struck you where it hurt. You felt his pain, but you couldn’t be sure what happened back then would happen now. You quickly fond solutions to things that happened back then, ruling them out and seeing no reason to give up this child out of fear. “I’m sorry..” You wanted so badly to please him, but after a lifetime of never having anything you wanted you weren’t going to accept no. “I’m going to keep it, I see your fears but I want this.” Yeah, it was selfish, but you had to not care about that for once. “I’ll leave for Hilltop tomorrow. Maggie’s there and they have a doctor, so we’ll be safe.”

And so you did. Daryl gave no response to your decision but was gone when you came back downstairs. He stayed gone over the time you spent packing and getting a vehicle ready and you assumed he’d gone out into the woods again. Rosita drove out with you, trying to keep a conversation going but you were too distracted scanning the woods for a sign of your lover, but you never caught him and soon arrived at Hilltop.

It wasn't fun having to again repeat why you were there and Daryl wasn't, but Maggie made sure you were comfortable and getting your needed checkups over time.

Against the better judgement of the others you always sat in on radios to Alexandria that brought updates from and to you.

"Thanks for willing to show up this time. She's doing great." Jesus was the one updating today, giving your shoulder a soft squeeze as he smiled at you sitting beside him. The line stayed quiet for a second before Daryl's voice came through. "Course she's still fine now. Pup aint big enough ta harm 'er yet."

With that the line went quiet again and you were left with no updates on their side for now.

Having no other option than accepting it for now you went back to your daily routine of helping around the community by doing light tasks. You wondered how Daryl would respond if he knew you were out and about instead of resting in bed the whole time had things gone better. He'd blow a fuse for sure.

In Alexandria Daryl was finally home long enough to be cornered by Rick and Carol. He wanted nothing more than to run, but his endless hunting and changing forms constantly had him exhausted, so his only choice now was to hear his friends out.

“Would you please share why you fought so bad about this?” Carol asked after a moment as the three were seated around the coffee table in the living room, with Daryl in his armchair and the others on the couch. “It can’t be that you think you’d be a bad father. The way you handle Judith shows you know what you’re doing.”

“Aint the problem. ‘S sumthin’ else.” Daryl was back to shaking, feeling his worthless kid self creep to the surface of his being, resting right underneath his skin.

“Will you tell us, brother?”

Brother, right. Another brother he kept all of this from. Maybe if he told him he'd be on his side, unlike you.. So that's what he did.

"Used ta have a girl 'fore all'a this." There was an immediate interest in the story, and Daryl went on to share the traumatic memory that had been haunting his nightmares for over a month now.

"Shit scared me so bad I hid in the woods fer weeks.."

Carol wanted nothing more than to get up and hug her friend, and Rick could only share what went on in his mind after what happened to Lori.

The three of them shared their most personal experiences of losing loved ones in their lifetime, but in the end neither Rick or Carol could convince Daryl to go see you.

The news was radio'ed to Hilltop, where you accepted it, as you did each time the bringer of news came to you with a sad look in their eyes.

While the child inside you grew you felt surprisingly fine. The women who had children before shared their tales of tiredness, nausea and mood swings with you, and eventually about bringing their children into the world as well. While some stories sounded more like horrors to you, they all still laughed and enjoyed recollecting the memories and assuring you there was nothing to worry about with the doc around.

The closer you got to your due date, which Daryl was so kind to share seeing you didn’t know about this part of being with a werewolf, Daryl’s anxiety got even worse. Unable to go out hunting and be away from the radio, but also wanting to tear the thing to shreds so it wouldn’t sit there haunting him. He kept hearing the static of a connection forming before the voice would come through, but each time it was just his imagination. He was waiting for the bad news to come in any hour now. Waiting for the ‘sorry, Daryl. We couldn’t do anything.’ from the other end of the radio. Sleeping was out of the question too, being plagued by nightmares nearly every time he closed his eyes.

Daryl never kept up with a calendar, but he clung to the one in his home now like his life depended on it. Your due date was tomorrow and those dreaded words hadn’t been shared yet.

Any of his hourly “Ya heard anythin’?”s came with a negative answer. It meant you were at least alive, still. For now.

His anxious asking kept up for three days until he finally ran out of strength and passed out, getting much needed sleep for once.

His sleep didn’t last long. Rick was at his side, shaking him awake and backing up as he got snapped at. “The hell ya want, Rick?”

“Get your ass to the radio. Hilltop called, she’s in labour.” While the news shocked him and he felt the urge to go talk to you, he couldn’t get himself out of bed and have to relive the horrors of something going wrong. He’d never forgive himself for not trying harder to convince you.

Despite knowing he could easily get his neck snapped he kept pushing Daryl to go but never succeeded, eventually giving up to keep the peace.

It was hours later he was being disturbed again. Carol came by this time with a walkie in her hands.

“Alright, I’m here. Have her talk.” Daryl turned to Carol’s voice, not stopping his work on the other side of the room.

“Dee? Can you hear me? We’re fine, both of us are fine.” The clatter of metal on the concrete floor spooked Carol, but not as much as the speed of Daryl moving towards her and snatching the walkie from her hands. “Yer fine? How?” There was just static at the other end of the line for a bit and Carol could swear she saw tears threatening to spill. “We got a walkie against the radio, it takes a second.” His attention was back to the walkie immediately.

“I had the pup. I’m healthy and so is she.”

Oh. The guilt of leaving her to do all of this on her own overpowered the anxiety of waiting for the horrible news entirely, unsure what to do first he tossed the walkie to Carol and threw on his vest over his ratty sweater and headed out the door. “Tell ‘er I’m headin’ over!”

Calling back a confirmation was unnecessary with the loud rumble of his motorcycle, so she made her way back to where the radio was set up. No need to share the details, seeing the others were outside already to see him ride out the gate.

“Hey, he’s on his way.” Jesus’ head peeked into the room where you were settled to rest in private. Maggie was finding you something to eat and going to see a seamstress to adjust your pup’s clothes. You knew it would be a while before Daryl would arrive, needing to come all the way from Alexandria. You had plenty of time to rest and eat before he'd get there.

Daryl rode like a madman to get to you as fast as possible and found the gate to Hilltop already opened, awaiting his arrival.

Sadly he found Gregory as first person to welcome him and tried his schtick of having people not just barge into his community all the time, but getting shoved aside with an angry snarl s Daryl passed him and followed his nose to where you rested.

Daryl found the room you were in, having sniffed you out with ease but found himself anxious again as his hand found the doorknob. He had been the worst partner to you those months ago. How was he supposed to look you in the eye knowing he let you leave to supposedly die?

“Hey, oww. Careful, you.” He caught your voice and it was like his body moved on its own, no doubt his other half’s need to see the child winning over his anxiety.

“Hey, Dee.” The smile you had on your face was no less than the one you held when you first handed him that test that started so much drama. But what truly kept all of his attention right now was the little bundle of fur laying curled up on your chest.

“She fell asleep after feeding. Come see.” Your hand moved slow to not disturb the sleeping pup, and reached for Daryl to come closer from where he still stood at the door.

He was so overwhelmed he needed a moment to gather himself and move forward to where you laid in bed. “M’sorry.” It was the only thing that made it past his lips before you saw tears rolling down his cheeks. He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed and rested his head in one arm as the other went to take your hand in his. He didn’t say anything else, but you knew he just needed time to process. You let him get his mind to calm down and rubbed your thumb over his knuckles for a while before your pup woke and unrolled herself clumsily. She slipped off your body and plopped right against Daryl’s head, immediately sniffing around in his hair and let out soft whines that had Daryl move to look at her up close.

His own eyes stared back at him, surrounded in a shade that resembled your hair color most. A soft pink nose pressed against his as the barrage of sniffs continued.

“Thanks, fer not hurtin’ yer mom.” His voice was soft and his hands found her small body, lifting her as he stood up to sit on the bed with you now that you had a chance to move again.

“Should’ve stayed with ya.” A simple sentence you agreed with, but still you forgave him for everything that happened. You also had your time to think and understood why he did what he did.

Truthfully none of it mattered anymore. You had your little family here now and everyone was healthy.

“You’re all okay, Dear. You had your reasons and it’s over now. You’re here.” You were rested against his shoulder as he held his daughter in his lap, staring with true love in his eyes.

“She looks like a Lily.” Daryl spoke after a long stretch of comfortable silence. “Soft ‘n delicate.”

You cuddled further into him, reaching out to take your daughter’s paw.

“Then Lily it’ll be.”

You were going to be okay, the three of you.

A/N: Oh man this one took so long I had to reread constantly to see where I left off!

#sometimes I write #daryl dixon #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #the walking dead #twd x reader #twd au #werewolves #werewolf

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dirtydragonthoughts · 1 year

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do you *want* anon hate? i can provide lol

only if I'm not expected to take it seriously XD

#because really #this is tumblr #i already know I have shit taste #and my hot takes are more like lukewarm dishcloth takes #what else are folks gonna come after me for #being old?

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fooltofancy · 8 months

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thinking abt that guard dog post and how long it would have taken the scions to recognize that they're taking advantage of a deeply ingrained trauma response

#i was gonna make this post two hours ago but then i got distracted and then i got distracted from the thing that was distracting me #i don't think y'shtola ever feels especially guilty for it btw #she and ilya are Not alike EXCEPT in pragmatism. and then it's a 1:1 comparison lmao #ilya sees himself as a tool for so long because he is deeply pragmatic #and if y'shtola is anything it's willing to use the tools at hand.#on the other end of the spectrum alisaie comes in swinging #'have u considered enabling him in this frankly unhealthy behavior is gonna get him killed'#scions: *crickets*#it has to be after shb that anyone BUT alisaie actually like. acknowledges the issue right #u know minfilia saw it u KNOW. she sees it from go #but then she dies lmao #i'm just. real fucked up about the scions again. and my stupid idiot son (heart too big never learned how to use it)#when these folk keep dying to keep you alive for some cosmic fucking purpose completely beyond you what else are you supposed to do?#bark a lot. i guess. and then die.#alisaie: anyway i'm taking him for walkies while u all think about what you've done #baby mode blogging #need a baby mode lore tag

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munson-blurbs · 6 months

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Best friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friend gets a lot more than he bargained for when he walks in on you wearing only your Hellfire Club t-shirt.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), dry humping, thigh riding, cumming in pants

WC: 1.2k

A/N: Reader is described as wearing an oversized Hellfire t-shirt. This is her shirt, not Eddie's. There is no indication of her size whatsoever.

Once I had a love and it was a gas

Soon turned out had a heart of glass

Your toothbrush is clenched in your hand, but instead of cleaning your teeth, it serves as a microphone while you dance around your bedroom. The stereo is playing loudly; you can’t even hear the creaking staircase floorboards over the music.

Seemed like the real thing, only to find

Mucho mistrust, love’s gone be—AAAAH!

Your palm flies to your chest when you see Eddie standing in your doorway, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

“And here I thought I was the rockstar in this friendship,” he smirks, arms folded across his chest.

Your heart rate slowly returns back to a pace that won’t send you to an early grave. “Jesus, Eddie! What are you doing here?”

“Figured I’d stop by,” he replies nonchalantly. “Y’know, you probably shouldn’t leave your front door unlocked while your folks aren’t home. Anyone could walk in off the street.” He flops onto your bed with an exaggerated exhale, looking pointedly in your direction. “Nice pants, by the way.”

Nice pants? You’re ready to sleep; an oversized Hellfire tee serving as your pajamas. You’re not even wearing—oh.

You tug at the hem, but even after years of wear, it doesn’t stretch below your thighs. Heat blooms in your face. “Yeah, well,” you sputter, “I wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Eddie pouts. “You mean you didn’t wear that ‘specially for little ol’ me?” He ducks as you hurl your toothbrush at his head. He opens his mouth to say something before quickly clamping it shut, but not before you notice.

“What?”

“N-Nothing.”

You cross your arms, more firm this time. “What?!”

“When you, uh, threw the toothbrush…your shirt…” His face turns bright red as he scrambles to explain. “…it, uh, kinda rode up.” His Adam’s apple bobs nervously.

“It’s just underwear. You’ve seen me in a swimsuit before.” You try to hide your own embarrassment, playing it off coolly, but all you can think about is the fact that Eddie Munson saw your panties.

He nods, wiping his palms on his jeans. “Right, yeah. Totally the same thing.” He clears his throat. “Well, I should get going.” He pushes on his knees, starting to stand up, but abruptly stops. “Actually, um, maybe I’ll hang out here for a bit, if you wanna maybe put…put something else on.” Pink embarrassment blooms in his cheeks, spreading down his neck.

“No, I’m going to bed, and you’re leaving. We can get breakfast tomorrow morning or something.” You sigh when he doesn’t move, making your way to where he’s sitting. “C’mon, time to—”

Eddie attempts to hunch himself over, but there’s no hiding the hardening bulge straining behind his zipper.

It’s only natural, you tell yourself. He’s a twenty-year-old guy; he’ll get a boner if the wind blows the wrong way. It doesn’t mean he’s into you.

“Shit, I’m sorry. This is super weird, and I shouldn’t have come in without knocking.” He buries his head in his hands. “Just…give me a sec, okay?”

“Okay.” Now’s your chance. If there’s any time to find out if he’s into you, it’s when he’s sporting a stiffie in your bedroom. “Or…I could help you with it?”

His head whips around so fast that his curls are a blur of brown. “Wh-What? Like, help me…?” He’s desperate for you to finish his sentence, not wanting to say something that makes the situation even more awkward.

“I can help you get off. If you want. Or you can just use my bathroom and, I dunno, rub one out.” You cringe at the phrasing. “No pressure.”

“Um, yeah. No pressure.” His thumbs circle each other, an anxious habit he’s had for years. “So if you were gonna help me out, what would that look like?”

You shrug, a half-smile gracing your lips. “I guess I’d do this first.” You place one hand on each of his shoulders, straddling his waist with your bare thighs. “And then I’d kiss you?”

“Mhm, please.” Eddie grips your hips as you lean in, mouths finding one another in unhurried splendor. He tastes like stale Camels and spearmint gum, only breaking the connection to trail his lips down your neck.

It’s your favorite spot to be kissed, and the way his teeth nip at your flesh, tongue gliding over the mark as though sealing it in, has you grinding down on him.

“Christ, honey,” he breathes, “you look so goddamn perfect like this.” His fingertips dig into your asscheeks possessively before one hand snakes its way up your shirt. You expect him to lift it above your head to expose your breasts, but he doesn’t.

“Y-You can take it off,” you stammer, feeling silly as you say it aloud.

Eddie shakes his head in refusal. “Next time.” Next time. It’s a promise you hope he’ll keep. “I just love the way you look in this shirt.” And nothing but this shirt, he thinks to himself.

The friction of your cotton panties on his denim pants is delectable, providing just enough pressure to your aching clit. You’re greedy in your movements but make sure to give him what he needs, too. Your pussy rubs against his clothed cock; Eddie uses the hand on your ass to help guide your hips.

“Thassit, oh, fuck,” he grunts, teased with the beginnings of an orgasm. “Right there, baby. Ohmygod, I’m gonna cum in my fuckin’ pants.”

“S’okay,” you murmur into his ear, gently biting the lobe, “‘m close, too. So close, holy shit.”

Sweat beads along his upper lip, his groans more needy and guttural. “‘M coming, ‘m coming, ‘m coming.” He babbles pathetically as sticky, wet warmth floods his boxers. You follow his lead, finishing on his somehow still-hard cock.

The immediate aftermath is filled with panting breaths and sporadic giggles as the pleasure high fades and reality sets in.

“Did we just—” Eddie starts, eyes wide in disbelief.

You laugh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “Mhm. We sure did.”

He rakes a hand through his curls, frizzy from perspiration and activity. “So, um, what do we do now?” There are many unspoken questions woven into it. What does this mean for our friendship? Do we even have a friendship anymore? Was it as good for you as it was for me?

“Well…” You sit up a bit straighter, toying with the chain of his guitar pick necklace. “We can throw your stuff in the wash, and maybe while we’re waiting, we can get started on that next time you’d mentioned earlier?”

Eddie grins, kissing you with a fervor like you’ve never seen. “What are we waiting for?” He tugs off his pants and boxers, unashamed of the way he’s painted them with cum. When he notices you staring, he winks. “‘S a lot, isn’t it? Imagine how much it’ll be when I’m actually inside you.”

It doesn’t take long for either of you to find out.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #fanfic #smut

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cryptidghostgirl · 3 months

Note

so sorry for this (very) specific request hope it's not ocish

anyways alastor x wife reader who's a virologist / kinda a mad scientist??(girl just wants to start a apocalypse without anyone to bother her)

Like they got married for mutual benefits (whatever benefits he would gain and her having access to money for her wildest dreams) when they were humans (whether he actually loves her or not is up to you lmao)

They both die (I assume that she would die around when he died from her own negligence caused by her 'freedom' to do her work more often without actually worrying about him finding out) and she avoids him like the plague (not that hard to realize this so called radio demon is your 'husband' when you find his secret stash of 'local cuisine' in the fridge)

Then he goes missing and she finally kinda goes out of makeshift hiding, just chilling doing her evil deeds before finding about the Hazbin Hotel from some gossip

Deciding that, while redemption is most likely not gonna happen mostly for the fact she does not care, she joins Charlie's little program. For her own little project (just wants to have a angel test subject, gotta see if they can be a good carrier for her little virus)

The reader doesn't know that Alastor's back (you think she's gonna use vox tech? Or listen to the radio? Girl uses a non vox tech phone and maybe a computer and does her work) so she goes and knocks on the door to the hotel

Thinking that this shit is gonna be easy, after all her husband is gone so she won't be bothered by him. She can focus on her beautiful creations and maybe destory hell and heaven with a apocalypse for some laughs. While also getting access to heaven through Charlie somehow (maybe even Lucifer, girl doesn't know nor care)

Anyways you can just IMAGINE her surprise that right after Charlie greets her (Vaggie ofc suspicious af cause she knows damn well no sinner wants to be redeemed for the most part) then here comes the strawberry pimp coming to say hello

Would he recognize his lovely wife? Maybe

Ofc reader had a plan, and by plan I mean she just says they were married and now acts like their divorced (death do us part and we fuckin dead)

(Just for example, do what you want <3)

Anyways I'm sorry again (can you tell that I've been watching a lot of mlp infection aus :') )

A/N bestie,, i love an overly detailed request. no apologies. i hope i did it justice <3 <3 I have literally been obsessing over the whole 'we're dead. we've been parted.' reader idea. It's so fun. Also I am very sorry it took me so long to get to this. Also, I am not a woman nor am I in STEM (I'm an enby in history) so apologies if science stuff in this is bad. I'm basing the character off of Entrapta (my love) from Nate Stevenson's She-Ra remake.

Till Death Do Us Part (Alastor x Mad Scientist!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Gore. Murder. Bodies. Animal cruelty (not detailed at all just like test subjects and burning ants as a kid). Viruses/plague talk. Just capital d Death all around in this one folks. Suicide and starvation briefly mentioned.

Word Count: 2,584

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Y/n hadn't been sad when Alastor died. It didn't really even register on her radar that he was gone until the police showed up at her door. Their marriage was more of an agreement than anything else, a division of labor. Y/n was a talented virologist who came from a rather wealthy family. He got access to her money, using it to start his own radio studio, and Y/n? Well Y/n got a clean up crew.

She had always been fascinated by death. It was a morbid curiosity that had followed her since childhood. The typical 'burning ants with a magnifying glass to mass murderer' pipeline only, murder was not exactly her objective. Since learning of the Black Death in school, she had been fascinated by biological warfare and weaponry. The stories of soldiers throwing infected bodies over the walls of city's to break down their defenses? It was magnificent, masterful, absolutely awe inspiring. Living through the Spanish Flu epidemic in 1918, watching how it tore through her city of New Orleans, only furthered her determination.

As soon as she had had the knowledge base to do so, she began working on bio-weapons on her own. She wanted to create a disease, to devastate the world. She wanted to watch the things around her crumble into ruin and know it was by her hand.

She'd found out about Alastor's hobby by accident. They were friends, of a sort, in that Y/n would show up randomly where ever he was and quiz him about radio waves. He worked at a radio station and she knew that. She had followed him, tracked him down. There was no reasoning behind it save he was the first person she'd really found out about that was involved in the business in New Orleans. She would pick his mind about getting the word out about things, marketing, advertising. She was prepping for the main event, for the day she finally created her magnum opus.

One day, when she had shown up unannounced at his door and broken in when he didn't respond to her knocking, Y/n had discovered him dismembering one of his victims. Alastor had stared at her, wide eyed in shock, fear and adrenaline mixing into an intoxicating combination in his veins. Y/n had just smiled.

She had been wondering about human experimentation for a while now. Animals were easy to cover up, easy to bury in the back yard but people? It had always been too risky, up until now anyways.

So it went like this: Y/n funded Alastor's dreams and he hid the side effects of hers. When he died, Y/n didn't really feel anything too strongly about it at all. Yes, it made life harder in that if she wanted to keep using human guinea pigs she'd have to figure out a way to dispose of them on her own but it also made it easier. Alastor had always been so obsessed with image, dragging her to office parties and forcing her to sit down to meals with him. Now that he was gone, she could work on her projects in peace once again. The body thing was something she would figure out along the way. She was smart and she wasn't going to let something like that stop her, not when she was this close to cracking it.

As it turns out, Alastor had been more of a help than Y/n believed. So used to his nattering and persistence, she had stopped eating. It wasn't long before she joined her husband in death. The papers of course had a field day with it. Heiress and Virologist Y/n L/n Withers Away Due to Heartbreak. Y/n L/n Starved Herself to Death and Joins her Murderer of a Husband. Virologist Commits Suicide After Revelation of Dead Husband's Criminal Deeds.

When Y/n had woken up in Hell, her whole world had been turned upside down. If there was life after death, what was the point of killing everyone on earth? She was back at square one.

Rumors were already buzzing through the streets of Hell about some new overlord, some Radio Demon, who had a strikingly similar MO to her husband. Not wanting any distractions this time around, Y/n secluded herself in the outskirts of the pride ring to reformulate her plans.

For decades she worked, trying to create a poison to wipe out the dual planes of the underworld. Work was easier here. No one questioned why she bought the things she bought, no one got upset when people went missing. Hell, no one even blinked twice if they saw her burying a body. It was a veritable paradise for Y/n.

Eventually, news reached her of the Radio Demon's disappearance. Y/n had never been the biggest fan of technology that wasn't involved in her work. In the world of the living, she had barley read the papers. All the machines in her laboratory were ones she had built herself through trial and error. But still, somehow, the news reached her and she felt elated. The last thing weighing her down, the last road block had officially been lifted.

Within seven years, she had perfected the disease. Having run tests on lower rings of Hell, she prided herself on her ability to make it so infections, so deadly. The survival was on par with that of unvaccinated human's infected by rabies. But her plan wasn't complete, no. Taking out everyone in Hell wasn't good enough, she had to figure out how to get it into Heaven as well.

That was when the perfect opportunity fell in her lap. Y/n nearly cried when she caught sight of the interview through the window of a shop selling Vox branded TVs. Charlie Morningstar, Lucifer's little brat, was creating a hotel for sinners, where they could be rehabilitated and sent to Heaven. It was perfect, almost too perfect. Y/n didn't question it, her own excitement blinding her. She barley even took the time to come up with a plan that consisted of more than get into the hotel and get her hands on an angel. She figured that was something that could be dealt with later on.

After a few days of research and snooping, she finally made her move. Having packed her bags and woven her way through the streets of Pentagram City, she found herself before the brightly lit marquee of the Hazbin Hotel. Placing her bag on the ground beside her, the test tubes and various paraphernalia inside clinked gently against one another. Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

It was Charlie herself who answered, with wide eyes and an earnest smile. A smaller moth demon beside her crossed her arms, eyeing Y/n with doubt. It barley registered with the excitable demon, she was used to the strange looks. The new form Hell had granted her with when she died was odd, after all. She was still the same height, still held a roughly human shape, but her hair had become its own beast. It moved like secondary limbs, falling nearly to the floor from the pigtails she had tied it up into. It shot up into the air around her in joy at the sight of yet another open door in her path, this one literal rather than figurative.

"Hello!" Charlie exclaimed, "Are you here to check in?"

"Yes, check in." Y/n nodded, using her hair to pick her bag back up.

She took a step forward, trying to enter the hotel, but found her path blocked by the smaller grey demon. Her arms were uncrossed now, one of them pointing a spear right at Y/n's neck. Y/n didn't flinch, she simply looked down at it in curiosity, reaching a finger up to touch the end.

"Ow." she said flatly as the spear's tip pressed into the pad of her finger.

Raising it to her eyes, she rubbed the droplet of blood that had pooled on her pointer finger with her thumb before turning back to the spear.

"Is this..." Y/n leaned forward, grabbing the spear's shaft.

"Hey!" Vaggie yelled threateningly as Y/n crouched down, examining the weapon carefully.

"Oh my stars, this is an angelic blade, isn't it?" she exclaimed, her eyes still fixed on the spear.

"Uh..."

Vaggie was more confused now than anything and she took the slightest step away from the excited demon. Y/n followed her and soon, they were in the entry way to the hotel. Charlie watched the scene play out with mild amusement, finding her girlfriends bewildered state rather charming. She let the door fall shut.

"It is, isn't it?" Y/n asked again, "But how did you get it? Did you make it? What do you do with it? Is it more effective than normal weapons? Why a spear? I-"

"What's this, we have a new guest?" a crackling voice cut Y/n off.

"Uh, yes!" Charlie stepped in, turning to face the newcomer.

Y/n, still preoccupied with the spear, was now engaged in trying to get Vaggie to let her hold it.

"I think..." Charlie doubtfully added, her brow furrowing at the site.

"Well well well, a little devil." Alastor hummed, turning to watch the show as well, "Honestly, reminds me of someone I knew back when I was alive and kicking. Ah well, what's her name?"

"I don't... actually know that yet." Charlie admitted, fiddling with her hands a bit as she spoke, "But she seems really enthusiastic about being here!"

"It seems she more interested in that spear of Vaggie's than the idea of redemption." Alastor noted in response.

"Are either of you going to help me or are you just gonna sit and watch?" Vaggie exclaimed, trying her best to pry the spear out of Y/n's grip.

Alastor sighed and with a twirl of his microphone, a shadow arose, pulling Y/n off Vaggie. There was a split second where the smile on the girl's face fell. It quickly returned as she caught sight of what exactly had interrupted her escapades. Placing her bag on the floor with her hair, she wormed around in the shadow's arms, turning to face it. Tentatively, she poked it.

"Would you stop that?" Alastor asked, his voice thick with irritation.

Y/n poked the shadow again.

"What is this? How are you doing this?"

When no response came from the demon in question, she at last turned to face him.

"Oh."

She stilled in her movements and Alastor allowed the shadow to disappear.

"No reason to be scared." Charlie quickly stepped in, "I know Alastor here has a bit of a... reputation, but he is actually helping us at the hotel. He's really a great once you get to know him."

Alastor's smile widened as he bowed his head slightly in recognition of the praise.

"If you're going to be staying her-"

"You can't seriously be thinking of letting her stay here, Charlie." Vaggie cut in, "She's been here what, five minutes? And all thats come of it is chaos."

"Vaggie, come on, don't be like that." Charlie turned to her girlfriend, "Everyone deserves a second chance, that's the whole reason we built this place."

"But does she even want to be redeemed? I mean, what if she's... I don't know, trying to take us down from the inside out? What if she's a journalist or some shit trying to write us bad reviews?"

"You flatter me." Y/n smiled and Vaggie scoffed.

"See?"

"Isn't that all the more reason to let her in? Vaggie, if she is undercover as a journalist or something, we just have to prove to her how amazing what we're doing here is."

"I don't know... I've never seen her before, what if she's another one Vox sent?"

Y/n shook her head, sticking her tongue out slightly in disgust at this notion and Alastor chuckled. There really was something so familiar about this demon and her antics. Even if she was a tad irritating, it was a comfortable familiarity.

"Then we will figure it out, same way we did with Sir. Pentious. Okay?"

"Fine." Vaggie relented at last with a sigh.

Smiling brightly, Charlie turned back to Y/n.

"So, hi. I'm Charlie, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! What's your name?"

Y/n's eyes flicked back and forth between Alastor and Charlie for a moment before settling on Charlie.

"Y/n L/n."

Alastor let out a little laugh of disbelief, a sound he had meant to keep in. He couldn't help it. Of course this little mess of a demon was his favorite crazy wife. Alastor had looked for Y/n on occasion, always keeping an eye on news involving anything scientific but, he had never found a trace. Not that he'd admit it but, in their time together, he had grown rather fond of the girl. Not love, never love, but a sort of familial feel. Everyone turned to face him.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Charlie asked, walking over to him and placing a hand on his arm which he quickly brushed off.

"Yeah, do you know her or something?" Vaggie added, "Is she dangerous?"

"No..." he paused, his brow slightly furrowed, "She's my wife."

The room fell silent.

"You... you didn't recognize your own wife?" Vaggie asked in disbeleif.

"Ex-wife." Y/n corrected with a little sigh.

This was all becoming so tedious. She hadn't come here to sit and talk with people. While the spear and the shadow had been fun, they had both run their courses and she just wanted to get to work.

"I..." Alastor turned back to Y/n, "Ex-wife?"

Y/n shrugged.

"So you didn't recognize your wife and you didn't know you were divorced?" Vaggie asked, rubbing her temples, "Jesus fuck, man."

"I..." Alastor cleared his throat, "We were married when we were alive. I didn't even know she was dead yet."

"Yeah." Y/n shrugged, "Turns out all your nattering was what was keeping me alive. I forgot to eat, starved to death."

Alastor's eyes softened slightly for a moment at the notion. She had needed his care so badly that she had died with out it. It felt good, in a strange way. Satisfying. They darkened again as he recalled her earlier statement.

"Ex-wife?" he asked again, taking a step towards Y/n.

She looked up at him, her expression blank.

"Yeah?"

"When did we get a divorce!" Alastor exclaimed once he realized she would say nothing else on the matter without his prompting.

"Oh! We didn't." Y/n nodded, smiling slightly, "Now, can I go to my room?"

"No, Y/n. Why are you calling yourself my ex-wife? We are still married."

Y/n looked around at Charlie and Vaggie, seeing if they were going to back up her claim. Sighing, she turned back to Alastor.

"Do I really have to lay it out for you?" she paused and Alastor just stared at her, eyebrows raised, "Jesus. Uh, Al, we died."

"Yes...?"

"Till death do us part? That was the agreement."

"I... Well..." he was at a complete and total loss for how to respond.

She wasn't wrong, he just didn't like her answer very much.

"So... the agreement is done... yeah?"

"I mean," Alastor shook his head slightly, "I guess?"

"Great! Can someone please show me to my room now."

---

Next Part -> Till Death Do Us Part pt. 2

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jyoongim · 3 months

Note

You know how theres been so many fics of what if reader was one of Al's victims and they meet in hell?

Well I kind of want to request something like that? but like the part where the murder happens??

I wanna see human!Alastor all out of breath still smiling going "oh wow you really gave me quite a chase, dear" when he finally corners you. Him with blood staining his cheek looking down at you as he finally managed to get you in the trunk of his car and giving us that oh so sexy "Lovely." in a deeper slower voice hajdjs I AM MASOCHIST OKAY

maybe reader can be like "go to hell bitch" with her dying breath and Al's just like "gladly! i'll see u there!" and they do meet heidnsja

You groaned as you propped yourself up against a fallen tree.Your body was screaming in pain, you were covered in small cuts and scraps from running through the woods. You winced as pain shot through your system. You looked down to pull your hand away from the bleeding wound.

Fuck

You weren’t gonna survive this.

You knew it.

Could feel it.

It made you laugh.

You heard a stick snap and whipped your head to see a dark figure walking towards you. You let out a breathless laugh, adrenaline finally coming down “damn bastard…”

Standing before you was the boogeyman himself.

Alastor.

He was leaned over, hands on knees as he panted, probably from running after you.

He chuckled, looking up at you over his blood-splattered glasses.

”I must admit I hadn’t expected you to run into the woods…a mistake on my part honestly…but you sent me on quite a chase darlin’ ” He was crouched in front of you, a smug smile on his face.

He was splattered in blood.

Your blood.

You grimaced, scrunching your nose at him. “You couldn’t just let me die in peace could you”

His smile curled as he pulled out some rope, oh how he loved that fire of yours.

”I’m afraid not my dear”

You didn’t have the energy to fight him as he tied you up, hissing at him as he heaved over his shoulder, deciding that you throwing insults at him would satisfy you.

”You are an egotistical self-absorbed piece of shit!”

”You think you’re so good huh? Killin folks and thinking no one knows…You ain’t as good as you think Alastor”

He hummed as he tracked back, listening to you hiss and curse at him.

”You’ll get caught mark my words! You like attention too much to keep your crimes under wraps. I never took you to be sloppy but what else is there to expect?”

He dropped you into the trunk of his car, leaning over you mockingly as you gasped trying to take in as much air as you fought the drowsiness that wanted to overcome you.

”Lovely” he brawled out tucking a strand of hair being your ear.

Even in your last moments, you fought him.

”I hope you burn in the hottest pit in Hell asshole” you muttered as your eyes closed, finally submitting to your wounds.

Alastor smiled as your body went limp “Ill gladly see you in Hell ma cherie”

————————————————————————————-

The gang watched in shock as a woman walked up to Alastor with a knife to his throat.

Alastor grin stretched across his face at the sight of you

”Why what a pleasure to see you again my dear” He leered down at your angry form “Miss me?‘

“You fucking asshole!” You hissed pressing the knife into his neck

”You might of killed me alive but ill be the one to end your afterlife” He laughed, taking your hand with the knife and lowering it.

“Ill love to see you try darlin’ ”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel #human alastor

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 4 months

Text

Dallas Dating A Curtis!Reader

Buckle up buttercups, this is gonna be fun!

As always, to fit the age bracket, you’re either Soda’s twin, or you were born between Sodapop and Ponyboy

Pick and choose as you see fit, but I’m definitely seeing more opportunity for a Sodapop’s twin sibling-

Anywayyyssssssss

Lemme set the stage a little bit, alright? Cause there’s a bunch of ideas floating around in this brain of mine-

You’ve had a crush on Dal for the longest time and I mean the longest time- ever since he stumbled in with that stupid white blond hair and that stupid New York accent and that stupid little attitude of his- you’d been head over heels

And low and behold, Dallas had been nursing a few feelings for you as well, hiding them a little better than you had been

So of course, y’all flirt and mess around and all the rest of the boys are a little suspicious but you and Dal both deny that there’s anything between the two of you

That changes a few weeks before the Curtises die, you and Dallas go on an official date down to the nightly double (he timed it with your favorite films cause he’s romantic like that) and bada bing bada boom, y’all are dating

But it’s a secret and no one knows but here comes the funeral and you’re holding Dallas’ hand through the whole thing, crying into his shoulder and he’s cradling the back of your head and everyone knows there’s something up

Darry doesn’t like it- not even a little bit- he doesn’t love that you’re dating Dal one smidgeon of a bit

He likes Dal well enough, he’s got to, they’re in the same gang, but like- he knows Dallas well enough too to know that maybe this isn’t the best thing

Dare’s biggest concern is your heart and whether or not Dal’s gonna break it by doing something stupid like fooling around with someone else or getting hauled in for something big and leaving you alone forever

Sodapop’s a little more okay with it? But he’s still a little hesitant, especially when Dally likes to get a little more physical than he needs to

*cough cough* kissing you way past decent under the porch light when he’s dropping you off at home after a date, sliding his hand into your back pocket to keep you close, just generally being Dal and pushing the limits of what is publicly decent *cough cough*

But!

Where the real fun is located is with our dear darling Ponyboy!

It’s canon, I’m pretty sure and I’m pretty confident after reading the book fifty million times, that Ponyboy “doesn’t like” Dally and thinks he’s kinda scary

But at the same time, we all know that boy looks up to Dally too and Dally has a soft spot for him

I’m seeing like- Ponyboy and Johnny and Dallas hanging out, just the three of them, and Dal’s trying to be all nonchalant and stuff, smoking casually as he tries to ask Ponyboy about how you’d like certain things

Dally tries to subtly run almost all his date ideas past Ponyboy before he takes you out because yeah, he really does like you, and sometimes he’s just a little unsure of himself with how much he cares about you

Now. When he gets hauled in, and we know it’s going to happen, let's be honest with ourselves folks, when he gets hauled in, his phone call is going to go to the Curtis house

He’s gonna ask for you and he’s gonna apologize for having to be gone for so long

If I was you? I’d cry, I’d scream, I’d be angry and sad and frustrated because why does he keep making stupid decisions?

But I’m gonna tell you this-

Putting up with stupid decisions and working through tough times like this? It’s gonna be a lot of the relationship, and it’s gonna be pretty prominent in your time with Dally

If that’s not for you? Then maybe, maybe it won’t work out

But that’s alright too! All the more for me :D

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders hcs #the outsiders x reader #dillo’s writing #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader

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shotmrmiller · 6 months

Text

Maybe dessert first.

Pairings: Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x afab!reader

MDNI 18+

TW: explicit content, oral sex, MINOR religious depiction or talks of it and heavy scott slang that i couldnt tell you if its right or not. anything else yall know da deal please lmk anything i need to put on here.

Johnny on leave loves taking you out on dates, which is how you ended up stumbling through your apartment door right after a movie and a couple of drinks at a bar—his fingers hooked in the belt loops on your jeans to pull you towards him and you bring your arms up around, pressing your clothed chest against his.

Johnny places open-mouthed kisses on your jawline, trailing down to below your ear, and your fingernails lightly dig into his scalp as his attention erupts your flesh in goosebumps. Teeth biting down on your shoulder, his stubble rubbing your sensitive skin raw— your nerves feel exposed, you’re so hypersensitive.

“Ye look positively bonnie t’night, lass.”

“I’m wearing what I usually wear, Johnny.”

“Aye, and you’re as beautiful as you’ve always been.”

Knees bending, Johnny picks you up by the back of your thighs— fingers digging into the meat of your hips— as if you weighed nothing. Your mouths come together, fervent and hot as he walks the both of you to the dinner table. You open your mouth to ask why he put you here when he hooks his thumb over the back of your bottom teeth, forcing your mouth to stay open. Your reaction to this is visceral.

Johnny’s crystal eyes flick from your own down to the saliva drop at the tip of your tongue that drips onto his thumb. He lifts a corner of his mouth and snags his bottom lip with his teeth as he tips his head to the side, admiring his work.

“Yer a work of art, sweet girl.”

He finally leans in and drags his tongue up along yours, at the same time grinding his covered length against your center and you’re keening.

“Anno the filthy way you love to be kissed, bonnie, I haven’t forgotten.”

Stepping back a bit, he tucks his fingers into the waistband of your jeans and knickers and you lift your hips to remove both articles of clothing in one go. As if he could read your mind Johnny says, “ Yer here because I’m about to eat and mi Mam always said proper folk eat dinner on the table.”

This man is gonna be the death of you. A small death, if anything. You recline back to support your upper body on your arms behind you as you see Johnny kneel between your legs with a look of reverence as if your hips are an altar— and if Johnny had anything to say about it, you are his place of worship.

“C’mere, lass. Dinnae keep a lad waitin’.”

You scoot closer to the edge of the table and his hot breath fanning out over your leaking pussy has you clenching around nothing almost desperate. Johnny presses light prickly kisses on your inner thighs and he works his way up to where you need him and yet he won’t give you attention where you need it most. Your thighs are trembling as he skims over your clit to love on your pussy lips and with every exhale his breath stimulates your nub and it’s so good but still not enough—

“Johnny, baby plea-”

And he finally, finally licks from the bottom of your slit to your clit, pointing his tongue to move it in circles before he goes back down to stick his tongue in and he curls it, collecting your slick like a parched man finding an oasis and he moans into your pussy before moving back and you can see him savor your nectar before he says, “My lass never has to beg me fer nothin.’ I’d lower the stars and have you walk with heaven at your feet if ye asked me.”

If his words didn’t almost have you about to bawl and ruin the erotic mood, you’d find his current actions crossing his adoring words almost lascivious. He brings you back to the moment with his hands underneath your ass, bringing you closer to him and his honeyed tongue. He encircles your clit with his lips, then flicks his tongue out, again and again.

You’re digging your nails into the table as you get closer to the edge, biting your lip to keep from being too loud and Johnny is having none of it. Hand going up to your face, he uses his thumb to pull your bottom lip from in between your teeth and says, “Absolutely not. Let the neighbors know who’s doing this to ya, bonnie.” and goes right back in.

You're dripping onto the dinner table, orgasm building under his mouth, and you swear you hear Johnny moaning as loud as you— and you’re so close, it feels like a rubber band ready to snap— and as he slaps your ass to get your attention and make eye contact, he tucks the pointed tip of his tongue under your clit and closes his lips around it and sucks.

You chant Johnny’s name like a prayer as you come— head tipped forward, chin dropping down to your chest as you shake— and Johnny flattens his tongue on your clit to feel it pulse, like a heartbeat, and the extra stimulation of it lets you ride out your pleasure.

Resting heavily on your arms, body completely boneless, you see Johnny pull back and his mouth and chin are dripping slick, and you can't even find it in yourself to be embarrassed. He puts his hands on your knees and grunts as he pulls himself up from the floor and of course, Johnny’s the type to be even harder after eating pussy for half an hour. His erection twitches in his pants and you have no doubt he’s painfully rock solid but his face is that of a cat who's got the cream. And you suppose he did get cream, didn't he?

“Dinnae worry, lassie. I won’t fuck you here. I’d hate to break this table, knowing how much you like it.”

♡ ♡ ♡

#call of duty #cod #cod mw2 #cod smut #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #cod mwii #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap smut #johnny soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish #soap mwii #john mactavish

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nyaskitten · 3 months

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EDIT: THIS POST IS INACCURATE !!!

I made the assumption Olive was editing the wiki articles, and while that's a very logical conclusion to reach, it was actually someone who shares the same viewpoints as them!!! Anything including the wiki articles and Olive's involvement is wrong and that's my bad!!!

Alright fellas, I guess we did it. We have reached the tipping point. I'm going to dedicate this post to calling out one specific person, @olivescales3, and their very toxic behavior. This post will be a bit messy, and I do apologize in advance, I'm writing this from the perspective of a Ninjago fan who also thinks beyond just the petty fandom stuff, what they're doing is just not cool.

I will clarify, I do not make this post for petty fandom drama, I make this to better spread awareness on some of the bullshit they're doing, so you can look out for and understand that they're bullshitting. Without further ado, I think we should just get into it.

So, what have they done?

Now, I should say while there is no 100000% concrete link between hyenabro and olivescales, I think based on their talking points (as well and the information I've recieved from friends in the Chima fandom, who have a bunch of prior experience with them,) it's safe to make this assumption!

So, what has olivescales DONE in this case? Simple, they've vandalized the Chima wiki on NUMEROUS occasions, even after several different people have revised their revisions, so as to discredit any conenctions between Dragons Rising and Chima.

(Green is their edits, red is the ones prior to theirs, I found this while going through their contributions section on their Fandom account, HyenaBro119)

As seen here, they have (under the username HyenaBro119) edited the pages for Chima AND the Forever Rock (I have two similar screenshots of essentially the same thing, one was from the Forever Rock article, the other was from Chima) and claimed Ninjago's lore to be some alternate universe. To further validate it, they write "Ras' visit to," but Ras NEVER claimed to have VISITED these locations, just that he knows them. They also claim the Forever Rock was destroyed, a blatant lie. Only a small section of rock on the Forever Rock was actually destroyed, not the whole thing.

Now, you're gonna ask "but Raine, how can you 100000% say it's them?" and I will cite common sense. While I cannot directly tie Olive to hyena, I CAN say their wording is SO very similar.

Both Hyena and Olive call DR "a parallel/alternate universe," and again, claim Forever Rock was destroyed, WHICH IS A FULL ON LIE. They're so adamant to protect "the sanctity of Chima's pre-established, set-in-stone lore" that they can't stop to think maybe, JUST MAYBE, sometimes a story can get new lore which can ALSO be canon!

I'd also love to share this HILARIOUS screenshot of one of their many posts, which not only backs up what I'm saying, but it's like damn they really set themself up huh!

Gee I wonder why you feel alone! Maybe it's because you are! Maybe it's because you're lying and making shit up to prove yourself right! No one is as big of a hater as you!

The also LOVE saying Ninjago cannot do anything with Chima unless they get express permission from the creator of Chima, some guy named John Derevlany, but oh man what's this I see before me?

CO-CREATOR? Oh but Olive, I thought he was the CREATOR of Chima, not CO-creator... ALSO Lego owns the rights to Chima, and Ninjago, and every other theme, as said by Doc himself! If anything he wasn't really dodging the question, just giving a vague answer, because he doesn't know much about the old contracts!

From what he said, it's clear that if they wanted to use anything from the other themes, they'd have to consult folks over at LEGO, not John Derevlany or Tommy A.!

Now here's the THING, I GET where they're coming from, it CAN be annoying to have people only care about a thing you like in relation to something else, but when you're going out of your way to argue that none of it can be canon and it's all an alternate universe it's like... god it's so sad and pathetic really.

Their lies and BS don't even end there with the wiki shit, because I have THIS glorious gem.

A) They bring up that the Ninjago folk do not know who the Phoenixes are which is like, okay??? Why the fuck are they gonna know about how another universe was created??? That's like if someone told me I don't exist in the same universe as my glasses because I have no clue who made them, that is to say, that's stupid as FUCK to say!

B) OH they say something REAAALLL funny ohohohho I am actually dying. Olive says the Phoenix icon "appeared in a Ninjago episode" and "Ninjago tends to reuse assets." Yep, NINJAGO is the one who reused the phoenix symbol, mhm. The symbol that was made in 2011 for NINJAGO, which cameoed in CHIMA in 2014, was actually just an asset reuse by Ninjago. I feel like this actually goes to show how desparate they are to feel right and validated, because this? This a lie! Ninjago made the symbol, and because Tommy A. is co-creator to both, he wanted to slip in a neat Ninjago reference, so he slipped in the Phoenix symbol Nya uses for the Phoenix tribe, not the other way around!

Another REALLY funny thing they did, aside from the wiki and Phoenix symbol shit, was this hilarious attempt at being right!

Yes, the compared the WOLF Masks to BATman's cowl, and did a horribly rough comparison illustration that very much does not make sense. If you actually compared them side by side, the only similarities would be they're both angry animal themed mask with pointy ears, which does NOT go very far in the long run. The foreheads they drew aren't even the same fucking shape lol.

OH ANS WE CANNOT FORGET THIS ONE! Their using a post about the Palestinian genocide and boycotting Lego in order to complain about Ninjago.

They claim Ninjago is produced by Lego, unlike other Lego shows, which is an EXTREMELY bullshit fucking claim. Just like Chima and Nexo Knights, Ninjago is produced by Lego, it's not JUST Ninjago produced by Lego, they are all Canadian-Danish CGI action shows, and they're all known to have Tommy Andreasen involved in the creation of them.

They're using a post about boycotting for the sake of innocent people DYING to complain about a lego ninja show for... killing evil people? It doesn't glorify war, the worst it does in regards to war is like not address how fucked up it can be in regards to the Serpentine War, but that's like it. I think it's so funny they want to single out Ninjago as if it's the only TV series where villains die for trying to conquer/destroy the world.

So, what do I want the takeaway from this post to be? What do I want you to get from it? I don't really know anymore, I just don't want Olive's horrendously toxic behaviors, and straight up lies to stop. If anything I think it's beautiful that Ninjago is making others interested in revisiting Chima again, stop being such a fucking hater dude. They act like Chima is some holy grail of Lego, the greatest thing since bread, but it, just like Ninjago, Dreamzzz, Hidden Side, and Nexo Knights, have Tommy in creative roles.

To act like Chima is somehow greater than is to place it on an unrealistic pedestal as if it's a godsend, when in reality it was co-created by Tommy Fucking Andreasen.

If you read through all of this, I do THOROUGHLY appreciate it, I didn't mean for this post to descend into an angry ramble but ehhh yk how it is. And Olive, if you see this, please, just stop with the bullshit.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #lego ninjago dragons rising #lego chima #lego legends of chima #chima #legends of chima #callout post #long post #edited all 'she' for 'they' here !!

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cerebralisis · 4 days

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I decided to make my analysis of So High School into a separate post, because I can’t help but think of this song every time I see photos of Taylor at the games. And sure, it sounds like a love song on the surface until you remember that Taylor was bullied in high school and start to dig a little deeper. Feeling "so high school" is not something a 34 year old woman wants to feel.

Let’s look at the lyrics.

"I'm sinking, our fingers entwined, cheeks pink in the twinkling lights" = To me this sounds like drowning, embarrassment, and diving in with the sharks

"Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me" = You mean her first Chiefs appearance when they 'slid off in the getaway car' at the end? Nothing good starts in a getaway car, babes.

"I'll drink what you think and I'm high from smoking your jokes all damn night" = I mean...

“I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night" = What do we know about this movie? We know that it is renowned for its high school immaturity and misogyny. It’s about a bunch of horny boneheaded men who treat women like sex objects instead of people. Sounds a lot like football culture to me.

"Your friends are around so be quiet. I'm trying to stifle my sighs." = I'm in the box with your friends and family. I need to hold it together so I don't offend them, but I legit hate this.

"Cause I feel so high school" = SHE HATES THIS.

"Bittersweet 16 suddenly" = I don't think she was a fan of high school, you guys.

"Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game but really, I'm betting on all 3." = A clear reference to that kiss/marry/kill interview with Travis, while also saying "we're gonna get together, put on a show for everyone, and I'm going to slowly die inside until we're done."

"Get my car door, isn't that sweet. Now pull me to the backseat" = All I hear with this is Movie Director Taylor giving instructions to her leading man so they can get a good reaction from the audience.

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle." = You're a jock. I'm a nerd. We are not compatible.

"Touch me while your bros play grand theft auto." = The official song lyrics on Spotify put grand theft auto in lowercase the first time and capitalized the second time. The capitalized GTA could refer to Travis's friends playing the video game, sure. But also - you know who was arrested in August 2023 for grand theft auto? Bashaud Breeland, a cornerback for the Kansas City Chiefs who played with Travis in the 2020 Super Bowl.

"It's true, swear, Scout's Honor" = Look it up, I dare you.

And my absolute favorite:

"On the brink of a wrinkle in time" = This is TTPD, folks. Of course there's going to be a literary reference. A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. The main character is a girl named Meg who is incredibly bright but struggles in school because she doesn't fit in with the other kids. After meeting a trio of badass witchy women, Meg travels to far-off worlds (a sort of deep portal time travel, you might say) where she joins the battle of light vs. darkness. What do we know about Taylor’s usage of light and darkness throughout her discography? It's giving… Reputation vs. Daylight? Shrouded in secrecy vs. out in the open? Based on everything else that Taylor has been hinting at through TTPD (not to mention Evermore and Midnights), it sounds like she is on the verge of diving into a much larger battle. And if I had to guess, I would bet that this battle will start during the Reputation re-release. Around Halloween. 🎃 When exile ends. Almost exactly 2 years after the Bejeweled music video was released. Maybe the old Taylor can't come to the phone right now cause she's dead?

I'm just speculating, but I will add that the 3rd book in the Time series is called A Swiftly Tilting Planet. There is a poem referenced through the book that goes like this:

With Ananda in this fateful hour, I place all Heaven with its power, And the sun with its brightness, And the snow with its whiteness, And the fire with all the strength it hath, And the lightning with its rapid wrath, And the winds with their swiftness along its path, And the sea with its deepness, And the rocks with their steepness, And the Earth with its starkness, All these I place with God's almighty help and grace between myself and the powers of darkness.

But wait, there’s more! ‘Ananda’ is a Sanskrit word that describes the eternal bliss that accompanies the ending of the rebirth cycle. It’s sounding more and more like she’s going to kill off Taylor TM and be done with the games, done with the reinvention. The plot summary of A Swiftly Tilting Planet says that it’s a book about "going back in time and changing might-have-beens." What decisions would she have made differently if she could do it all over again? I don't know, friends. Take from this what you will. All I know is, this woman and all her brilliant duality is going to send me to a padded room. ✌🏻

#friends of dorothea #gaylor #lgbetty #ttpd #the anthology #so high school #🎃#🎃 anon

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patchworkgargoyle · 10 months

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Booty 🌿

Steve has a plan, and Eddie falls for it. || read on ao3

Here it finally is, folks! My first smut for the ST fandom. I hope you like it!! Inspired by this post.

WC: ~4.8k || E || CW: Unsafe sex

“Please, Eddie?”

“Are you insane, Steve? It’s hotter than Satan’s taint out there, you cannot expect me to peel myself off this couch.”

Eddie heard a frustrated sigh and a small thud, imagining that Steve had let his head drop on the wall by his phone. “Yeah, I’m aware, I’m sweating buckets right now. But I gotta have the car fixed before tomorrow, I promised Claudia I’d pick up Dustin from the bus station and I can’t do that if it won’t start.”

Thing was, Eddie did kinda want to go and help him, heatwave be damned. They’d grown close in the months since spring break and despite his previous misgivings Eddie had gotten to like Steve. More than he should, really. He can’t help it if his queer little heart does a jig every time he manages to make Steve laugh in that eye-crinkling, head-tipped-back kind of way. Got good at it too, which made Eddie feel a great deal of selfish pride. And if he can’t take his eyes off the long lines of Steve’s mole-dotted neck, that’s his own business.

But this was something else. As soon as Steve called to ask if Eddie would help fix the Bimmer he couldn’t get the thought of him–sweaty and greasy and bent over the open hood of the car, his hair falling just so and lip bitten between his teeth in concentration–out of his dirty little mind. The things he’d want to do. It did as much to convince Eddie to go as it did to make him want to keep his distance.

He was a weak man, however.

“Fine. Alright. But you’d better make it worth my time, I’m risking my pale, un-sunburnt ass for this.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t worry, I will,” he said blandly.

They hung up after Eddie promised to be there in a few minutes, and he rolled off of the couch with a melodramatic groan. Moving in the muggy heat trapped inside the trailer sucked, but he wasn’t going to back out. Steve had sounded so relieved when he’d said goodbye that it gave Eddie enough pep to lurch his way to the kitchen to grab a few cold beers before scrambling into his van. He appreciated his own forethought when he burned his hand on the door handle and could hold a cold bottle against the spot. Fucking summer.

Parking in the Harringtons’ driveway, he spotted the Bimmer pulled halfway into the garage, the front shaded by the overhang in what must be an attempt to avoid the worst of the sunlight. The hood was popped open, but Eddie couldn’t see Steve.

“Ohh Stevie!” he sang, “your knight in shining armour has arrived!” He heard something thunk from the garage but got no response, so he wandered inside, trying to peer around the hood. “I come bearing gifts but they’re gonna get–”

Wheels squeaked from below and Eddie looked down, only to be treated to the sight of Steve’s legs, long and hairy and sprawled open, flexing as he dragged himself out from under the car on the creeper and revealing more inches of mouth-watering thighs. He was–oh fuck, Steve was wearing the tiniest cut-off jean shorts Eddie had ever seen, the fabric of the pockets poking out from under the frayed hems. They were tight, too, hugging his hips and, god, his bulge. The white tank top Steve wore had ridden up, too, exposing the trail of hair that dipped below the fucking shorts, but Eddie followed it up, along the grease stains and the swell of his pecs to Steve’s grinning face.

“...Hot.” Eddie’s voice cracked around the word.

“What was that?” Steve asked.

Clearing his throat, Eddie said, “The beer, it’s uh, gonna get hot.” Somehow he managed to not sound like he was choking on his own drool while Steve still stared up at him from the ground, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. There was a slight smear of dirt across his cheek and Eddie wanted to lick it off.

“You know where the fridge is, Eddie, if you’re that worried.”

“Nah, you look like you need a break. Get up here,” he said, waggling the bottle over Steve’s face. Steve chuckled but finally stood and relieved Eddie of the misery of seeing Steve on his back and not having been the one to put him there.

He popped the caps off with the bottle opener on his keychain, and Steve took his with a ‘thank you,’ downing half in a few gulps. Eddie distracted himself from the sight of Steve’s throat bobbing by peering over at the engine.

“So what’s the issue, doc?”

Steve pulled away from the bottle with a soft popping sound from his pink lips and a gasp. “Dunno yet. That’s why I called you,” he said, leaning on the car beside Eddie. “Oil and battery are fine, spark plugs look good too.”

“She been making a sputtering kind of sound recently? Could be the throttle.”

“Nah, no weird noises.”

Eddie hummed, then set his bottle aside. “Alright, let’s get underneath her then.” Lowering himself onto the creeper and sliding under the car, he said, “Could be a belt has finally busted. Got a flashlight?”

“Really need to ask that?” Steve’s voice got fainter as he walked a little ways away. “The kids insisted on a disaster preparedness kit after round two with the Upside Down.”

There was a tap on the wood under Eddie’s hip, and blindly he reached down to grab the flashlight Steve found. He tinkered around under the Bimmer, unable to wipe away the sweat that started to drip and stick his bangs to his forehead. But eventually he began to roll back out into open, but no less stupidly hot, air.

“Looks like everything’s shipshape, captain–” Eddie choked on his own words when he looked up and was met with a sight straight out of his wet dreams.

Steve stood over Eddie, his legs spread wide enough that Eddie had rolled right between them. If he sat down, Steve would be straddling Eddie’s hips, but that would deprive him of this new angle at which to admire all of Steve’s assets wrapped so tightly in frayed, lightwash denim. Mouth falling open, Eddie let out an eloquent, “Uhhh,” and Steve laughed, holding out his hand.

“Thought you’d like a hand,” Steve explained, smirking.

He took it without thinking and let Steve haul him off the creeper board and up to his feet. A kick, and Steve sent the board skittering away underneath the car, but Eddie barely winced at the noise. He was too busy standing so close to Steve that they breathed the same humid air. If he so much as swayed, their noses would bump together. Christ, Steve had pretty eyes, a bright, warm brown flecked with amber even in the shade of the garage and he swore he could see Steve’s pupils dilate the longer their gazes locked together.

“So, what were you saying?” Steve asked in a low tone. He tilted his head ever so slightly and those eyes held some kind of dare within them, one eyebrow ticked upward. Eddie couldn’t help swallowing, licking his lips, and Steve went from staring into Eddie’s eyes to down at his lips.

“Just saying that, that everything looked fine. Might, uh, might be the crankshaft or the–” Steve stepped forward just enough to bring their chests together, the back of Eddie’s knees hitting the bumper, and Eddie’s breath hitched, his voice cracking, “–the sensor.”

“Eddie.” The way Steve said his name sent a frisson of heat through Eddie, right to his dick, which was becoming a very obvious guest between them.

“Yeah, Stevie?” he whispered.

Broad, warm hands wrapped around Eddie’s slim hips. Steve worked a finger through a belt loop on each side and tugged, and Eddie realised he wasn’t the only one with a hard on when Steve’s pressed up against his own, pulling a hiss of pleasure from them both. Oh, shit. Leaning impossibly closer, Steve’s lips brushed against Eddie’s when he spoke. “I don’t care about the car right now.”

That snapped whatever faint, lingering reservations Eddie had. “Fuck, Stevie, please kiss m–” He didn’t even finish before Steve’s lips crashed into his, plush and hungry. It wasn’t long before Eddie began to nip and lick, his teeth drawing short, pleased noises from Steve’s mouth before he pulled back a scant inch.

“Fucking finally,” Steve said, and dove back in, biting back, making Eddie groan. His hands found their way to Steve’s sides, then, spurred on by Steve’s enthusiasm, he reached down and grabbed at his ass. His fingers wrapped under the hem and he yanked Steve’s hips in and up, rising to meet them.

Steve’s cock grinding against Eddie’s was a fucking revelation. From the way Steve’s mouth parted with a hot gasp, Eddie guessed he felt the same. “Hold on, baby,” he rasped, and using what leverage he had, Eddie hoisted Steve onto his lap, Steve’s knees spread and braced on the car. There was no way he could keep them there for long, but fuck it was hot, rutting their hips together while they kissed, wet and messy.

Eddie tasted the salt of his own sweat when Steve licked into his mouth and moaned, hands fisted into the denim in his grip, feeling more sweat beginning to drip down his back. The heat was stifling, but nothing compared to what started to grow in Eddie’s gut. One of Steve’s hands buried in his curls and pulled, had Eddie bucking up and whimpering around Steve’s tongue. He could come like this, dry humping on top of the Bimmer, lap full of Steve in those shorts, hands on his perfect ass, would’ve if the idea weren’t more embarrassing than hot.

“St-Steve, wait,” Eddie panted, whining again when Steve’s hand clenched in his hair again.

“Why’d you stop? Don’t wanna stop, Eddie,” Steve groaned, before a little more clarity seeped into him and he leaned back into his arms, concerned. “Or, shit, wait, is this okay?”

“God, fuck yes this is okay. Been thinking about this forever, man.” Steve smiled widely, verging on a little goofy, before ducking in and pressing open-mouthed kisses to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s arms began to shake. His legs had long since begun to tremble. “But, hang on, ah, I’m gonna either drop you or come in my shorts in like two minutes if we don’t rethink this.”

All that did was make Steve start rocking into him again. “Hot,” he mumbled as he licked up a trail of sweat under Eddie’s jaw, making Eddie swear and tip his head back.

Eddie’s knees decided to buckle right then. They shouted, Eddie scrambled, locking Steve in his arms and getting his feet under himself before standing, his hands still hooked around Steve’s ass while Steve’s legs clung to his waist. Steve’s shocked expression likely matched Eddie’s, before he rested his forehead against Eddie’s and laughed so hard his body shook. Helpless, Eddie joined in, holding Steve close while their giggling faded out. But his arms were aching so, gently, he put Steve down.

“Do you wanna stop?” Steve asked. Eddie shook his head.

“You?” Steve shook his. “Thank fuck,” Eddie said. He ran his hands over Steve’s ass, over the crease of his thigh, the tips of his fingers tickling the hair on the back of his thighs before guiding him close again. “Didn’t wanna let you go now that I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

Steve dove into Eddie’s mouth with a hungry groan. The slick sounds of their lips echoed in the garage. With a tug, Steve turned them around and backed up into the car, his hands wandering underneath Eddie’s cut up Iron Maiden tee and clutching at his sides, over the fresh demobat scars, nails digging in bluntly.

Eddie couldn’t keep his hands off Steve either. He pawed at whatever he could, finding the places that made Steve pant and hum into his mouth. But he wanted more, because Eddie has always been a bit greedy. One hand snaked its way around to cup Steve through the shorts that barely contained him, pressing his fingers around the hard outline of Steve’s cock and squeezing, rubbing. The low, raspy moan he got for his efforts made Eddie grin wolfishly.

Head lolling back, Steve breathed hard and rose to meet each stroke of Eddie’s palm. Eddie began to bite and suck his way down the strong line of Steve’s neck, biting every mole he could find. “E-Eddie, I want you to fuck me.”

The words made Eddie bite down just shy of too hard. Steve whined, and Eddie lapped at the spot in apology. “I wanna, I wanna so bad, Steve, but we’re fucking filthy, sweetheart,” he mumbled into Steve’s neck.

“Don’t need to do anything. I, mmh, prepared for this.”

Eddie pulled back to blink at him in disbelief. “You what?”

“I’ve been wanting this for months and nothing was working! So I just, made this as obvious as I fucking could.”

“Months?” Eddie’s jaw dropped when Steve gave him a look that managed to be both fond, flirty, and frustrated. “I could’ve been fucking you for months!?”

“Or I could’ve been fucking you.”

That idea, as sexy as it was, had to be pushed aside before it managed to make Eddie’s horny little brain leak out of his ears. “Putting a pin in that, that’s absolutely gonna happen, but I wanna revisit something. You prepared?”

Steve smirked. “Yeah,” he said, simple and cocky and so hot Eddie could combust. Eddie tried to capture Steve’s lips again but Steve stopped him with a firm hand against his chest, pushing Eddie back a few steps. Turning, he closed the hood of his car and instead of twisting back around to face Eddie, Steve leaned on his arms and arched his back.

Now that was a sight. Steve’s long, tan legs spread just so, one knee cocked to give a slight tilt to his hips. The firm, round swell of his ass peeking out under the denim that struggled to hold together. And right on the apex of those pretty, biteable, jean-clad cheeks: two dark, dirty handprints. There’s even the blackened imprint of fingers on Steve’s skin. Eddie’s fingers, Eddie’s hands. His cock twitched against his zipper and he moaned out, “Ohhh my god…”

Looking over his shoulder, Steve’s smug smirk grew, and he tilted his hips up a little further. “I know I look good, Munson, but are you gonna do something about it or what?”

Eddie stepped forward and draped himself along the expanse of Steve’s back, rutting his hips into Steve’s and making him hum sweetly. “Don’t have to get bratty about it, baby,” he said. He dragged his fingers along Steve’s sides, letting his nails catch on the soft texture of Steve’s scars before dipping down and popping his button open in one swift motion. “Tell me how you prepared.”

He felt the shiver his words evoked run down Steve’s spine. As he slid the zipper down and slid his hand in to find Steve had gone commando–both of them groaning when Eddie’s hand wrapped around Steve’s leaking, twitching cock–Eddie nuzzled into the dip between Steve’s ear and neck, inhaling the scent of his sweat and musk and the faint traces of a clean, fresh cologne valiantly hanging on.

“I, I got this toy. In Indy,” Steve gasped as Eddie pumped him, pulling his cock out as his hand sped up the more Steve spoke. “Worked myself open on it.”

“What’dya think of?” Eddie squeezed.

“You,” Steve keened, jerking into Eddie’s grip.

“Fuck. God. Alright, enough of this.” Standing, Eddie took his hand away and ignored the needy noise Steve made to instead yank the shorts down. Steve only bothered to step out of one leg, having to kick his foot when they got stuck on his shoe. It made his cheeks jiggle. Eddie couldn’t resist giving him a few taps just to watch it again before spreading those cheeks with his thumbs. More dirt smeared over Steve’s dewy skin, but that was only the opening act. The true star of the show glistened with lube and twitched under Eddie’s hungry stare, already loose and used and ready for him. He held himself back from burying his tongue in Steve’s hole, but just barely, letting out a low, hungry rumble instead.

Eddie couldn't move fast enough after that. He grappled with his belt, popped the button of his shorts and shoved them and his boxers out of the way enough for his cock to spring out without help. Then he stepped forward. Eddie let out a shuddering gasp when his aching cock met the searing heat of Steve’s taint and smeared precome along it, echoed when Steve sighed unsteadily as his head slipped up, up, up. Brushed over Steve’s hole once, twice, before catching on the rim.

“Please, Eddie,” Steve whined as he pushed back, and who was Eddie to deny such a pretty request?

He thrust forward and sank into Steve with a slick sound and such little resistance that Eddie’s jaw dropped open in a soundless moan, eyelids fluttering at the hot, wet clench of muscle around him. Another thrust and Steve groaned thickly, his head tilting back so Eddie could see how his bitten-red lips parted deliciously.

“Steve, you good? Please tell me you’re good. Fuck. I wanna fuck you so bad, you feel so good, hot, please Steve,” Eddie begged and rambled, his hands shaking with the need to grab and pull and take.

“If you don’t fucking start right now I’m leaving–”

That was all the permission Eddie needed.

He sank slowly past that ring of muscle and Eddie didn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed about the high-pitched, breathy whine that escaped him. Steve really had prepped, just loose enough and slick enough, but he still took his time. He wanted to savour this, the way he slid into Steve’s tight heat, how the feeling made his legs tremble and his stomach clench. Steve deserved the caution. At first, at least.

“Tell me,” Eddie demanded, needing to talk to distract from the sheer feeling of bliss of being enveloped by Steve. “Tell me about what you were thinking when you fucked yourself on that dildo.”

Steve’s head tilted back with a moan, his brows drawn together, and Eddie longed to bite and lick the strong column of his throat, but he didn’t want to get distracted. He wanted to know.

“I thought about your fingers, first. Those rings, fuck, they drive me nuts. Wish you’d worn them today.” Eddie gave his hips a firm squeeze, fingers spread wide to catch as much soft skin as he could, and grinned when he felt Steve clench around him and heard a stuttering breath.

“I’ll wear them next time, big boy. Wanna see how good they look when I’m jerking you off.” The appreciative groan caused by Eddie’s words was divine.

“God yes. Next time.”

Of course it was then that the phrase sunk in. Next time. Eddie hadn’t even noticed he’d said it but Steve repeating it had something other than raging hormones rising in his gut. He didn’t even have time to process the implication because Steve kept going, and started meeting Eddie’s thrusts with small movements of his own.

“Then I thought about your dick. Y’know, it’s so hard not to stare when you get out of the pool.”

“Did you?”

“Duh.” Steve shot a bitchy look over his shoulder. The usual power behind the look was lost in the bright red flush on his face. It completely fell apart when Eddie shifted and hit somewhere new, Steve’s mouth dropping open with a guttural noise that made Eddie’s cock twitch. “S-shit, it’s so perfect,” he said.

Steve’s head hung loose from his shoulders, forehead resting on the hood of the car, needy, lingering moans bouncing off the metal, breath and sweat condensing on it while Eddie inched further into him every time he slid out and pressed back in. With his palms on the Bimmer, Steve used the leverage to rock into Eddie, the muscles in his shoulders rippling under the white cotton tank starting to go translucent with sweat.

Watching his cock steadily disappear into Steve’s hole was addicting. He leaned back to get a better view of how he split Steve open between the grimy handprints he’d left on the globes of his ass, placed his hands there again and dug his nails in, making Steve’s hips jerk so that Eddie sank the rest of the way with a groan.

“God, Eddie,” Steve mumbled, “fuck, you feel so. So, uh, so good.”

“Y-you too, baby.” Eddie could barely form words. The tight pressure around his cock threatened to end things there and then, but Eddie closed his eyes and breathed, letting the fire and the urge and the want die down to a less immediate threat. But then he opened his eyes, saw how good they looked locked together, the way his darker thatch caught against the lighter brown hairs decorating Steve’s ass, both of them wet from the lube he’d pushed out of his hole, and jesus fucking christ he didn’t want, he needed.

Pulling out slowly and bracing Steve’s hips with a punishing grip was the only warning he gave before snapping forward with a loud grunt, the slap of damp skin a filthy echo in the garage. Steve cried out at the second hard thrust, choked off when Eddie kept going, his hips picking up speed.

“Good?” Eddie gasped. Nodding, Steve uttered a desperate, pleading ‘yes’ that made him fuck into Steve faster.

“Look so fucking hot, Steve,” he started babbling, his voice reedy with pleasure. “God, my handprints on you. Want ‘em to stain, be there forever.” Steve moaned and Eddie felt him tighten around his cock. “Like that, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, fuck, I do, I do!”

Eddie leaned forward, draped himself across Steve’s back, and the angle was so fucking good, so much better, and he knew he’d started pounding into Steve’s prostate by the way his gasps had turned into a delicious mix of thin moans and choked out grunts. Fucking him into the car, Eddie let his hands roam. He rucked up the tank top, watched as the last of the dirt on his hands smeared over Steve’s perfect, scarred skin like loving and greedy claw marks. Finding a nipple, he pinched and squeezed until Steve writhed and squirmed.

Then Steve reached up. Buried a hand into Eddie’s hair, grabbed a handful and pulled.

“Oh fuck!” Eddie whined, his hips stuttering, the pain mixing with pleasure and zinging down his spine.

Steve chuckled, unsteady and breathy but so self-satisfied. “Thought about this… for so long, Eddie.”

“Thinkin’ about me so much, sweetheart. I’m honoured. What, hah, what did you think about?” he asked into Steve’s neck, lips catching on his skin, tempting him to lick, to bite. He did, groaning at the taste of salt.

“This. On your couch, by the pool, my bed, anywhere. Been desperate for it.” Steve pulled Eddie closer by his hair while he bounced back on Eddie’s cock as if to prove it. “Or, shit, bending you over that throne of yours and fucking you into it.” Eddie let out a pitchy whimper and Steve cooed in a way that could’ve been condescending but instead made Eddie melt. “But now, now that I know the kinds of fucking sounds you make–t-there, yes–I wanna take you apart. Slow a-and gentle until you’re a mess–”

He cut himself off with a broken moan. Eddie’s hips kept up their brutal pace with short, sharp, hard thrusts, the sound of their sweat-slicked fucking and and the jingle of Eddie’s belt buckle filling the room. His brain was nothing but static. The image was stuck in a loop like the end of a record left to spin. Eddie heard a desperate, animalistic whine and realised it came from himself.

“Close, baby?” Steve asked. Eddie nodded frantically, his lips dragging through beads of sweat dripping down his neck. He’d been holding it off, the fraying coil threatening to snap, his balls aching as they slapped into Steve’s asscheeks.

“You?” Eddie wanted to beg for Steve to be ready.

“Getting there, just, don’t stop,” Steve gasped.

Twisting, Steve pulled Eddie down to catch his lips in an open-mouthed kiss, fingers tangled in his damp curls. Their tongues met sloppily. Shared panting breaths like trying to inhale each other. Eddie’s thrusts were starting to falter. He was going to shake apart at this rate. Might just shatter when he comes, the pressure and heat and need too much and so fucking perfect.

“Steve,” Eddie whined, and Steve’s eyes met his. “So good to me, Stevie, sweetheart. Feel so wet, fuckin’ beautiful. Nee–mmh–need you, need you to come, please baby, please.”

“Touch me,” Steve said, practically commanded, and Eddie wasted no time.

Spitting in his hand and hoping it was enough, Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s dick, mixing his spit with the shocking amount of precome leaking from the head and spreading it over his length. Christ he was hung. Steve let out a relieved sigh, which Eddie swallowed, smashing their lips together again while fucking hard enough that he rocked Steve into his fist. Steve started making little ah, ah, ah noises. Next time–please let there actually be a next time–he’d worship this cock in the ways he wanted to, the ways Steve deserved, but for now he pumped him mercilessly. Then, then.

Steve seized, a full-body tremble ripping through him as he came, pulsing in Eddie’s hand as he tightened around Eddie’s cock and he was so fucking gorgeous, plush kissed-red lips open in a silent scream, so hot and tight and, and, and–

With a hoarse shout, Eddie came too, rutting helplessly into Steve as he rode out the sparking shockwaves that also had him shaking, the wet sounds between them even more obscene with Eddie’s come slicking the way. He finally stopped when Steve’s whimpers sounded a little too sharp. Breathing heavily, Eddie braced himself on the hood of the car on weak arms to keep himself from collapsing on top of Steve, only letting his head rest in the crook of Steve’s neck where he left one final, achingly gentle love bite.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed contentedly, leaning his head against Eddie’s, their damp hair sticking together.

“Gonna pull out now, Stevie, okay?” When Steve just nodded lazily, Eddie slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the feeling. And he couldn’t keep himself from parting Steve’s cheeks to see his come dribble out a little, feeling a great deal of pride and greedy satisfaction at the sight.

“Bit late to ask, but you’re still clean, right? After all those tests for the bat bites?” Steve asked, grimacing when he stood up. He was the perfect picture of debauchery, only wearing his rumpled, practically see-through tank top, socks, and shoes, with his hair a wild mess and sweat still dripping from his forehead. The dirty fingerprints and red marks starting to bloom on his neck and hips were Eddie’s favourite part.

“Yep, only time I’ll ever thank those shady government fuckers for poking me with all those needles.” Eddie grinned at Steve’s tired, but fond, chuckle.

Steve looked at the car with heavy-lidded eyes, then did a double-take. “Shit, I gotta wash that off.” There, on the shiny burgundy hood of the Bimmer, was the white splash of Steve’s come, stark against the dark colour. Eddie started cackling and Steve complained, “Dude, shut up, it’ll ruin the paint!”

“Gonna wash your car without these, Winnie the Pooh?” Eddie bent down to scoop up Steve’s shorts, dangling them from a finger. He laughed when Steve snatched them back with a glare that barely hid his begrudging smile. While he stepped back into them with a wince, Eddie said, “Interesting choice of clothing to work on your car, by the way.”

“Worked, though, didn’t it?”

“What?” Eddie’s eyes narrowed when Steve smiled innocently and shrugged before he wandered off to get a chamois towel and soap. And it clicked. “You planned this? You lured me in with slutty shorts?”

Tossing the towel up and catching it, Steve’s smile widened into something smug. “Yep.”

“Wait. Is the car even broken?”

Steve just offered Eddie another sly shrug and started wiping his come off the hood.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #fanfic #sac scrawls stuff

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081314 · 3 months

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Ruggie Bucchi - Clubwear (Voice Lines)

Following is my translation of Ruggie's voice lines for his clubwear card.

Spoilers after the cut.

Summon

🍩: Now, I can't promise you'll see much of me durin' the match. The way I move out on that field, you'll never be able to guess what I'm gonna do next!

🍩: Guess I'll go show 'em why they call me the "disk thief". I'll snatch away their confidence, their pride, an' their will to fight before they even know what hit 'em.

Home Lines

🍩: I'll mess with 'em a little.

🍩: People far an' wide call me the 'disk thief', so maybe that means a pro team'll come scout me an'… Ahh, never mind. No use daydreamin'.

🍩: Leona-san's voice booms so much you can hear 'im clear as day over the crowds. A lion roar's somethin' else.

🍩: Last thing you wanna do is get marked by Epel-kun durin' an inter-team match. Guy never runs outta energy, an' he'll stick to ya like glue.

🍩: Just focus when ya need to focus, an' the rest of the time you can slack off- Erk, I mean, I'm always on my A-game, no matter what! That's just my style.

🍩: Even if ya can't use magic, we'd love to have ya on the team. There's loads of crap we need a manager to handle for us.

🍩: All Vargas Sensei has us do is a buncha bodybuildin' shit. It sucks, but if ya skip a meet he'll just up your reps the next time.

🍩: Spelldrive's a game only mages can play. But even though it's super popular, there ain't a lotta folks who play it. People'll admire ya just for havin' some experience.

🍩: Spelldrive's a contact sport, so elbow an' knee guards are a must. Well, not like I ever even give people the chance to hit me.

🍩: One time when I was little, I found this spelldrive disk out on the street, an' I cleaned it up an' sold it for a pretty penny. Man, that was a good find.

🍩: Dontcha think they should hand out cash prizes at our club tourneys? I'm sorry, but trophies and certs just don't cut it for motivation.

🍩: If yer gonna watch us practice, then you can handle the refreshments. I'll take sport drinks, jelly drinks, donuts - you name it!

Groovy

🍩: Okay, game's over! Shit, I was freakin' out for a moment there thinkin' we were gonna go into overtime. Got my part-time job right after this.

Duo

🍩: S'alright if I handle this one, Leona-san?

🦁: Go easy on 'em, Ruggie.

#ruggie bucchi #leona kingscholar #twst #twst jp #twst spoilers #twisted wonderland #voice lines

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ispelexists · 2 months

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SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'

"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"

The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.

(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)

This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3

🎭

The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH

English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these

Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:

💙 1. 💙

🎭) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.

He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.

🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.

🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)

🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)

💙 2. 💙

🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.

🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')

🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him

🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)

💙 3. 💙

🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.

🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):

a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry

(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))

anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.

b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.

🎭

The art without the text 😘

#shadow milk crk #shadow milk cookie #shadowmilkcookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk fanart #crk kingdom #crk art #crk fanart #cr kingdom #crk #art #cookie run kingdom #beast yeast #cookierun #cookie run

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deltaromeo3 · 1 year

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𝟷-𝟸 𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚘𝚝𝚜 ⋆ Daniel Ricciardo

pairing: daniel ricciardo x teammate!reader

• as requested by: lovely vex!

“They’re gonna think we’re idiots!”

It was a raining cats and dogs on race day. You were sat in your driver’s room because the race has been red flagged. You decided to wander out to the garage just for the heck of it.

You exit your drivers room and walked to the garage, only to be greeted by a sea of mechanics and engineers who were also feeling down due to race being postponed. You smiled and greeted them back, but your eyes were searching for someone else; your teammate, Daniel Ricciardo.

Your eyes scanned the garage. Ah there he is! Seated beside Tom, his engineer. They were busy discussing about what you assumed were data and statistics, and he seemed so in the zone, listening closely to what Tom was saying, so you took this chance to scare him from behind.

Tom saw you creeping up to Daniel but you put a finger to your lips as if to say “Don’t blow my cover”.

“Boo!”

“Jesus!” Daniel jumps in his seat, turning to look behind to see which bugger scared the living shit out of him.

“Gotcha,” You said as you laughed. Daniel smacks your arm in response. After that, you decided you didn’t want to leave. Instead, you took a seat on his right thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck and instinctively, his hands wrapped around your waist.

You listened as Tom was talking to him. Daniel of course was nodding along and asking him questions but you didn’t care so much.

Everyone around the both of you seem to not care that you were seated on Daniel, they knew that this was a common occurrence.

“Aw cmon Dan! Open your mouth wider!” You said as you tossed him another M&M.

The chocolate lands in his mouth. “Yes!” You celebrated. Daniel smiles and pumps his fist up into the air, celebrating as well.

The pair of you have been at it for a solid 10 minutes. Anything to chase away the rainy day blues, am I right?

“I have excellent aim.” You complimented yourself, a smug look apparent on your face.

“Oh is that so? Okay, your turn.” You nodded, getting into stance, opening your mouth wide to catch the M&M Daniel was about to throw.

Unfortunately you missed. You pout and Daniel laughs. “Cmon Y/N you can do it,” He squeezes your shoulder for encouragement. You took a deep breathe and stood in position again.

“Ready?” He asks.

You nod. “Ready. Toss me one!” You open your mouth.

The M&M lands in your mouth. Your eyes widened in excitement. Daniel comes over and daps you up, “Atta girl!”

Little did you know the cameras caught all of that. Practically everyone saw what the two of you were doing…

Post Race Interview

“Hey Y/N! It’s nice to see you again. How was the race? Congratulations by the way, 1-2 podium with Daniel by your side, how does it feel?”

“It’s nice to see you again too. Thank you! Um, it feels great actually! And it’s even better that it’s my home race. I feel happy. Even happier that I managed to finish ahead of Daniel.” You cheekily smile.

“So we understand that the race was postponed correct?” You nodded. “What happened there? Back in the garage? You and Daniel seem to get along well.”

You laughed, realising the cameras caught your nonsense. “Oh you meant- ah right!” Just as you were about to answer, Daniel comes into frame, scaring you from behind.

“Oi!” You turned around to be met with Daniel laughing.

“And that is how you scare the race winner, folks!” He says to camera and you rolled your eyes.

“Sorry I got a lil’ distracted there as you can see,” You rolled your eyes again, “Maybe Daniel can answer that question, right Daniel?” You looked over to Daniel.

“Y-yeah sure! What’s up?” He steps in front of the mic.

“We’re just wondering, what happened back in the garage? Was a lot of chaos as we saw it.”

Daniel laughs. “Oh that?” He looks over to you and the both of you exchanged looks, a stiffled laugh coming out of you.

“Nothing! We were just tryna.. um.. I don’t know, chase the blues away. It was raining and we were bored out of our minds.”

“So I take it that you both have a good relationship off the track?” The interviewer asks.

“Yeah of course. She may be annoying at times but I’m used to it y’know?”

“Hey!” You smacked Daniel’s arm. “As annoying as I am, at least I finished ahead of you.” You quipped back.

“She’s feisty,” The interviewer says to Daniel.

“Yeah. And thank God you’re not on the receiving end of it,”

The interviewer laughs before continuing to ask the both of you a few more questions before they finish off.

You walked away with Daniel, side by side.

“See, I told you!”

“Told me what?”

“That if anyone saw us, they’re gonna think we’re idiots!”

He laughs. “Well, the two idiots they just saw won a 1-2 podium. I’d say we make a pretty good team.”

“Yeah… I agree.”

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo x y/n #danny ric #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #deltaromeo3 #driver!reader

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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I've Got You - A Joel Miller Story

Joel Miller x f!reader/f!oc

joel miller masterlist

She and Joel are partners in business. Nothing more. But they’ll both have to come to terms with this lie they’ve been telling themselves when something unspeakable happens.

warnings | 18+ angst, very dark themes (near SA, canon-typical violence), smut

Joel was difficult to talk to, so it was a good thing she didn’t have much to say. She figured that’s why they worked so well together.

She had been in the Boston QZ since she was a teenager, since the beginning of all this really. Had set up a solid business in smuggling, finding it easy to go out into the open since she had nothing to lose, all her family gone in the first few days of the outbreak. It had hardened her, being on her own for so long, so when she found out she had competition from two newcomers, she was quick to make Joel’s and Tess’ acquaintance, knife in hand. If it hadn’t been for Tess’ diplomatic nature, she’s certain her and Joel would have killed each other then and there, two loose cannons butting heads. But, they had worked it out, merging their “business” and soon enough, they were the predominant smugglers of Boston, exerting a wide and powerful influence when they needed to.

Tess handled the deals, while she and Joel handled the actual runs. They could both go days without speaking, trailing each other along the crumbling highways, filling their packs with salvaged goods to take back. She didn’t know much about him, just that he had lost something big, just like her, just like most folks still alive. But they were comfortable with each other, an unwavering trust that had developed over months of successful jobs.

They were wrapping up another successful trip, about two day’s out from the QZ. They’d stop at Bill and Frank’s tomorrow, get a trade in before heading back. Night was starting to slip over the woods and they had set up camp in a thicket of trees. She took the first watch while Joel hunched into the side of his sleeping bag, trying to get some sleep. She blames it on herself, really, for letting her guard down when she should’ve been on alert. But they had never run into trouble in this area, and, to be quite honest, she was fucking exhausted after five days on the road. Even sitting up, hands around her shins, she was starting to fade in and out of sleep.

That didn’t last long though, when suddenly she was being yanked up and back by her hair. Her shriek was cut off quick by a knife being pressed flat against her throat. She could feel the man’s beard scratching against the side of her face as he held her up against him. There were two others, one of whom had his gun trained on Joel who had been startled awake by the sound. Hunters, from the looks of them.

Joel had sat up, holding his palms out, his eyes darting between the mouth of the gun and her. The man with the gun spoke first.

“Don’t want no trouble, pal.” She could see the muscles in Joel’s cheek tick as he sized the man up.

“Doesn’t look that way to me, pal.” The man holding her up chuckled.

“Now, now, no need to get all worked up. Just gonna want some of whatever you got in those packs.” He paused for a moment, bringing his other hand to caress down the side of her body. She shuddered under his sickening touch. “And maybe a little turn with your girl here.”

Joel was on his feet fast at that, but the other two men moved quick to grab hold of him. He struggled in their grip but the one punched him, hard, in the stomach, forcing him to double over.

She writhed under the man’s grip but he pressed the blade firmer into her throat.

“Easy, little bird. Why don’t you and I go have some alone time, huh? And if you’re real nice to me, I’ll think about not blowing your boyfriend’s brains out? That sound good to you?” She huffs as he jostles her in his grip, keeping a sneer across her face even though she nods. What the fuck else can she do?

“Be right back, gentlemen. Don’t y’all go nowhere.” He hoists her around, shoving her forward until they’re deeper into the woods, the glow of their camping lantern just a speck amongst the trees. He throws her down to the ground, quick to straddle her hips, pressing a knee into each of her wrists to keep her prone underneath him. There’s a rushing in her ears and her whole body’s shaking as he wrenches her jeans and underwear down her thighs. The man grunts behind her.

“Such a pretty little thing, aren’t ya? Think I ought to leave you with a little souvenir of our time together, huh?” She has no clue what he means, his voice sounding muffled as her mind continues to go hazy. But then there’s a searing pain in her low back and she realizes he’s carving something into her skin. She lets out a broken scream but he cuts her off by shoving a wad of cloth into her mouth. It’s agonizing until it’s not anymore, until her body goes slack under his hold. She realizes he’s carving letters into her skin. He’s carving initials. He finishes his work, she hears him throw the knife down beside them. He whistles low.

“Even prettier, little bird. Giving me something real nice to look at while I fuck you.” She feels frozen, numb, only startling slightly at the sound of gunshots in the distance. Her mind offers up a single thought like a mote of dust floating in the dim light. Joel. She picks up the fight again, as best she can, squirming under his hold, but he grabs a hold of her hair, forcing her head back.

“Watch it, little bird. Or I won’t be so sweet to you no more.” He drops her head, her face smearing in the rotting leaves of the forest floor.

She can hear him undoing his belt in the gloom and she braces herself for what’s coming, her whole body tensing. But just then, another gunshot rings out, and she feels the man above her go slack, falling off to the side. Her wrists ache where he had been pressing them into the dirt. She heaves, huge rolling gasps leaving her shuddering ribcage as she tries to press herself up.

She hears her name being called through the rushing in her ears, feels a pair of hands gently pulling her jeans back up her legs. And then she sees Joel in the corner of her blurry vision, leaning down to search her face. She lets out a bone-rattling sob of his name and he gathers her up in his arms, sitting down on the ground and pulling her into him. There’s blood spattered across his shirt, but she doesn’t care, digging her face into his chest. He still smells like him.

“I’m so sorry, baby, I’m so sorry. It’s ok, it’s ok. You’re safe now. I’ve got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything else happen to you. I’ve got you.”

…

Somehow, they manage to get to Bill and Frank’s the next day. Joel had overpowered the men last night, killing them all handily by the time he got to her. She hadn’t spoken since he’d found her, mutely walking alongside him, keeping her eyes on the road. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

When they met the two men at the fence, they both looked taken aback by her demeanor. Bill later told Joel he thought she looked like a spooked horse, wild eyes not quite making contact, jerky, stiff movements. Frank immediately took her under his arm, guiding her into the house to tend to her bruised wrists. The couple always had a soft spot for her, had been working with her long before Joel came around, and they treated her like a daughter. Joel and Bill were left standing there, staring each other down. Bill asked him what happened but all Joel could do was shake his head, a deep sigh rumbling through his chest as he scrubbed harshly at his jaw.

Bill offered him a shower and a clean set of clothes, which he gladly accepted, watching the rust-colored water swirl around the drain. All cleaned up, he ran into Frank in the hallway as he was coming out of the bathroom.

“She’s sleeping. I gave her some painkillers, to get her some rest, at least. She told me what happened.” Joel shifts in his boots, looking down at the floor, trying to hold onto whatever restraint he has left, to not crumple in front of Frank.

Frank brings his hand to Joel’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.

“Thank you, for what you did, Joel. For her.” Joel clears his throat.

“Didn’t do enough– should’ve– I should’ve–” Frank cuts him off with another squeeze to his shoulder.

“You did what you could. Listen, Bill won’t ever admit it. But that girl? She’s like family to us. Thank you for saving her. You did. You saved her.” All Joel can do is nod, trying to not let the thick feeling in his throat roll into tears.

…

The sun has already set. As always, Bill and Frank had cooked a mind-boggling meal, but she didn’t join them for dinner. Frank had taken a plate up to her before they sat down, and when he came back downstairs he told them that she was awake, that she was feeling ok.

After dinner, Joel excused himself as the couple settled at the piano together, telling them he wanted to turn in early. The room they had set him up in was across the hall from where she was and before he could think better of it, he was lightly knocking on her door.

She called for him to come in, and when he saw her, he was shocked at how much relief he felt in seeing her again. She was sitting on the side of the bed in a worn-looking t-shirt and sweatpants that Frank must have given her. She glanced quickly at him before looking down at her feet.

“Are you alright?” He’s taken aback from her question, softly shutting the door before turning back to look at her.

“You’re asking me if I’m alright?” She just shrugs, still not looking up at him.

“Frank sort of whisked me away this morning. Haven’t seen you since then, just wondering.” Joel tentatively sits down next to her, resting his forearms on his thighs, he looks at her over his shoulder.

“I’m fine. Are you alright?” She shakes her head.

“Don’t– don’t start treating me different, Joel.” “Not treating you different, I–”

“Yes you are, you’re treating me like I’m broken.” She scoffs before continuing, “I’m not that fragile. Thought you knew that by now. Christ, nothing even happened. You killed that-that bastard before he could really do anything.” Her breath shudders as she exhales.

“I know you’re not broken. And you’re certainly not fragile. Made of tougher stuff than most.” She shakes her head at that but he stops her.

“Hey. I also know that you’re a fucking human being. And you and I both know that even though nothing happened, something still did. Before I– before I could get to you.” It’s his turn to sigh now, wringing his hands that rest over his knees.

“Don’t, Joel. You did what you could, that’s enough.” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I did what I could. But it kills me that I didn’t do it quicker. When I saw him– on top of you, I– god, I– I’d rather die than see you hurt, do you get that?” Her head whips up to look at him, finally meeting his gaze.

“What?” He swallows hard, already regretting the words he just said, the dangerous confession he just gave to her.

“Look, I– I shouldn’t have said that, I should go,” he goes to stand but her hand reaches out to hold onto his and he freezes in place. His heart clenches when he looks at the mottled bruises long her wrist.

She turns to face him on the bed, cautiously raising her other hand to let her palm slide over his cheek. It comes out as a whisper when she says his name and something in Joel breaks.

He knows it’s rash, and maybe just plain stupid, but he still surges forward and when they kiss it’s not gentle or sweet, it’s desperate, it’s two people holding onto each other because it’s all they have. They move quickly, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his lap as she cards her fingers through his hair and when they kiss, they kiss ugly. All tongues and teeth and gasping breaths between. His fingers dig into her hips as she starts to press down onto his growing length. He pulls away, looking into her blown out eyes.

“I want you, Joel.” Afraid of what he might say in reply, he dives back in for her mouth, slowly starting to shift them until he’s laying her out on the bed with his legs slotted between her thighs.

He keeps his weight off her, seeing her slight wince with each movement, not wanting to hurt or overwhelm her. But she pulls him down by his shoulder blades, pressing him against her.

“Please, I just– I need to feel you, please.” He pauses, breathing heavily as he looks into her eyes, just nodding.

“You’ve got me, darlin’. I’m right here.” He shifts a bit closer to her, coming down onto his forearms as he kisses along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. She sighs underneath him.

He feels her hands fumbling at the hem of his shirt and he leans back to shrug it off over his head. What he wasn’t expecting was for her to do the same with her own, and when he’s met with the sight of her bare chest, his breath catches in his throat. She reaches out for him but he’s still frozen in place, taking her in. He lets his hands slide up her sides, fingertips grazing over her nipples in a way that makes her shiver. He murmurs the only word he can think to before meeting her in another kiss.

“Beautiful.”

They press skin to skin now and the feeling, the warmth makes Joel shudder. He feels like he can’t get enough of her, the way she’s running her palms up and down the planes of his back, the little sounds she makes as he kisses her. She takes one of his hands and brings it to the waist of her sweatpants. His fingers halt there as he looks up to her, asking without saying anything, she just nods.

He slips his fingers under the band, skimming down to her folds. He groans at the pooling wetness there. She’s keening into his hand as he strokes her, dipping into her entrance before swirling her arousal around her clit.

“You’re perfect, baby. S’fucking perfect. Does that feel good?” She just nods, gasping his name when his fingers dip inside her again.

“J-Joel, please. Wanna feel you. W-want you inside me.” His head spins at her words and stops what he’s doing, splaying his palm across the soft swell of her stomach.

“Are you sure?”

“I am.” He hangs his head, letting his forehead rest below her sternum, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, making sure this is real.

“Christ, ok. Ok, darlin’. I’ve got you.” He presses up off the bed, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them down along with his boxers. He thinks he might melt under her gaze, the way she takes in the sight of him.

He kneels at the end of the bed, bringing his hands to the waistband of her pants, looking up to her one more time, one more confirmation before he gently slides her pants and underwear off her legs. He sighs at the sight of her, bare beneath him, before framing her head with his forearms, laying over her and pressing in for a kiss. He guides the head of his cock through her folds and they both groan at the contact. She draws her knee up to his hip, spreading herself out for him just a bit more.

“You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?” She nods, brushing his hair back away from his eyes before settling her hand on his cheek. He turns his head and lays a kiss in the middle of her palm before he starts to press into her. She gasps and he freezes immediately, but then she keens.

“D-don’t stop, please. Want you to keep going.” He huffs, pressing a bit deeper, taking in the way her back arches into him. Her nails dig into the muscle of his shoulder where she’s wrapped her arm.

Finally, his hips settle against hers, and they both sigh at the feeling of him being fully sheathed in her. Joel’s afraid that if he moves, this will be over before it’s even started. He dips his nose into her neck, smelling the soap Frank gave her to clean up with, but also just smelling her. Her heel digs a little into his low back, he looks up at her.

“You can move, baby.” Joel holds back a whimper at her words. He shifts his hips back, finding a slow roll back into her that has them both moaning. It’s a slow, deep pace they find, pushing and pulling against each other, lips smearing in barely-coherent kisses.

He feels the pleasure pulling tight, ready to snap, but he needs to get her there first. He brings his fingers down, circling her clit a bit harshly. She whines at the contact and he can feel her pulse around him.

“Just let go, baby. I’ve got you. Let go for me, please.” She lets out a broken cry of his name before coming undone, and it’s enough to send Joel over the edge as well, quickly pulling out and painting her stomach with his spend. He’s panting as he leans in for a chaste kiss, pulling back to take in her flushed figure, the softly heaving swells of her body. He whispers that he’ll be right back, moving over to the attached bathroom to find a towel to clean her up with. He sits back on the bed, daubing away the mess he made. She’s smiling softly around a “thank you.”

He passes her her t-shirt to slip back on while he tugs his boxers back up his legs before they both get under the covers, immediately tangling up in each other. There’s nothing to say, it’s unspoken what has just passed between them. Joel knows that from now on, he’s hers, and she’s his.

Her breathing evens out before his, falling asleep in his arms. He lets his palm wander up her shirt, gently skating down her back. He pauses at the gauze bandage that sits at the base of her spine. He had seen what that man had done to her, the letters gruesomely carved into her skin. It made him wish he hadn’t just shot the man, that he had kept him alive to make him suffer, only giving him the mercy of death when he was begging for it.

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller one shot #fanfic

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starcrossedxwriter · 18 days

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Wicked Fantasies Part 11.1 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: Ummm so welcome backkk! This is 11.1 because there's a second part to this chapter (I know... my self control keeps getting worse lolol) But I hope you enjoy!

TW: grief

“I’m never fucking drinking again,” Raven moaned to herself as she stumbled out of the comforts of bed. She felt like hell, if hell had a truck run over its head a few dozen times.

Raven generally considered herself an early riser but nothing could pull her out of bed that morning after what was, objectively, the dumbest night of her life. Part of her wished she had had one or two more drinks so she could have officially transitioned into the ‘blackout drunk’ phase. So that she would, at least, be spared the embarrassing memories. But no, every horrible moment of the night from dancing wildly at the bar to Michael saving her was etched into the crevices of her brain with shocking clarity.

Now, it was after noon and Raven still found herself wanting to be curled under her blanket asleep so she could escape her embarrassment.

A knock at the door pulled her out of her wallowing self pity. She did not make an attempt to move, expecting Tiffany to answer. However, when the voice of their landlord rang out and her knocking persisted, she quickly slid on her robe to open the door. She decided Mrs. Winters would have to get over the fact that she looked like death reincarnated.

“Rough night, dear?”

Raven grimaced for a moment, she did indeed look as terrible as she felt.

“Something like that,” Raven offered a tight smile, her body slumping against the door. “W-what can I do for you, Mrs. Winters?”

“Oh I’m just letting everyone know that we had a pipe burst on the floor above. We’ll have folks in and out and you might hear some noise and stuff. But if you see any leaking into your unit, give me a ring?”

“Of course. Will do. Thanks, have a good one,” Raven tried her best to politely shoo the woman away. However, she lingered.

“Oh I meant to tell you, that boyfriend of yours is just such a good egg. So kind and polite. Admittedly I haven’t met many famous people,” she laughed. “But you just don’t expect them to have such good manners, you know?”

Raven stopped. “My boyfriend?? Sorry… When was he here?”

“He stopped by this morning. Gave me a check for your rent for the rest of your lease. Oh and asked where your mailbox was, said he wanted to drop something in it.”

Raven was worried her jaw might come completely unhinged as the woman spoke.

He did what??

“Are you alright, dear??”

“Y-Yea, yea. Just… a bit of a surprise. Thank you.”

And with that, Raven immediately closed the door, not listening to the elderly woman’s reply.

“This nigga… I hate him,” she muttered to herself as she slumped against her door.

Every cell in her body knew that was not true. But she also knew that everything she had told him last night was still accurate. She was too tired to forgive him and not just him… anyone ever again. The world has used up all of her second chances and she did not have it in her heart to be disappointed by him again. The narrative in her brain was so set in stone, she did not think anything he could say or do would make her believe anything else. She could not even make herself go retrieve the note that was apparently waiting for her in her mailbox.

“Such a coward,” she grumbled as she flopped back into bed.

She stared at her phone for several minutes, her text thread with Michael open. She wondered what she could even say? Thank you?

She knew any conversations demanding she pay him back or he rescind the money would be moot. Even if she had the mental fortitude to argue with him right now, she would still lose. But she could not just accept it without trying to push back.

She typed and erased and typed and erased before lamely landing on:

Raven: You can’t pay my entire rent. I can’t accept that.

Raven: I don’t want that.

Michael: Yea you can. Told you… gonna show up every day tryin’ to fix us. You just gotta let me.

Raven: Money isn’t gonna fix this, Michael.

Michael: I know. But it can fix the tangible things I fucked up for you

Michael: So let me fix that for you.

Raven paused, as a warm sensation filled her, a warmth she had not felt in over a month now. The warmth of being cared for. She had never had someone take care of her without wanting something in return, except Michael. Even when their relationship was built on transactions, he still took care of her without needing or asking for something from her. The book deal, her rent were just the tangible examples of how he had stepped up to right the wrongs he could and she could not deny that those actions meant something, softened something inside her.

He was doing exactly what he promised he would do the night before. He was fixing what could be, he was showing with his actions that she meant something to him. And yet, that blockade that stopped that belief from taking root was still there, still prohibiting her from believing these actions were anything more than a skilled manipulation.

He would draw her back in, he would not change, and when he got ready, he would hurt her again. That’s what everyone in her life did.

Raven: It doesn’t change anything

Michael: I know… didn’t expect it to.

She tossed her phone to the side and grabbed her pillow, screaming into it as her frustration got the better of her. The complex web of conflicting feelings with Michael B. Jordan trapped at its center only continued to grow. She wanted him to let her go, to stop caring and trying and going out of his way for her because that fit into the narrative nailed to the cross of her brain, it would confirm her beliefs and fears.

But instead he continued to do the things that made her fall in love with him the first time, things that only reignited the dimmed but still existent flame that was her love for him. And she knew she would never get over him if she kept letting that happen, kept letting him in.

So she did not even respond. Instead, she just closed the thread and tossed her phone to the side.

“Let him go, Rae,” she demanded to herself. “You don’t deserve him and he doesn’t love you.” She repeated that a few times before it felt real again, before all that had started to soften was once again as solid as a block of ice.

***

“You look like shit,” Alex moaned as she watched Michael’s makeup artist, Shanta, struggle to make him look less like a living zombie ahead of his Oprah interview.

They were tucked away in a suite in Oprah's sprawling LA estate. It was difficult to make Michael feel poor but Oprah was certainly one of the few people in the world who could do so.

“Thanks, appreciate that.”

“You know I don’t believe in lying to you. Make sure you get those bags under his eyes,” she instructed. “Alright, this is it. Final stretch. Movie’s out and every review is stellar so far. Do this interview, it’ll air this week, Oscars on Sunday and then you can sleep. Though I bet it’s not the schedule keeping you up? Talked to her since the premiere?”

Michael forced his body not to sag at the mention of Raven as to not disturb the hard work of the woman trying to make him look alive after days of no sleep.

“She texted me about the rent thing the next morning. But it’s been radio silence ever since.”

It had only been a few days since the fiasco after the premiere but Michael’s concern for Raven had not diminished one bit. He could not let her go as she requested but he tried his hardest to respect her desire for space. His heart was stuck in the quicksand that was Raven and he had no desire to pull himself out. He wanted to be right there. He knew eventually he would have to accept defeat, accept that she had moved on. But he could not do it while she still questioned her own deservedness. She could hate him for the rest of his life, it would be her right. But his soul could not allow her to live thinking so lowly of herself. So if he had to pay 30 years of rent or call in favors to make her life easier and make her see that she deserved care and someone to sacrifice for her, he would do it. It was high time someone in her life put her above themselves.

“Well, at least she talked to you. That’s something. You’re doing what she asked. Sis has lived a life, she needs time and space. Keep doing what you're doing. Except for the no sleep. For the love of God, by the Oscars, please get a good night’s rest. That’s your night.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Alex…”

She scoffed. “You’ve won the big four, Mike. It’s not just because I believe you deserve it… Statistically, Best Actor is yours. The Oscars is your night. Have a little faith in yourself.”

“I hear you. I just don’t wann-”

“Excuse me?” A young man poked his head in the door. “Apologies for interrupting. I’m a PA. Just wanted to let you know that we’re almost ready? I can take you out to the garden when you’re ready.”

“Be right out. Thank you,” Alex called.

Shanta did her last quick finishing touches before Alex gave him her customary once over.

“Shanta, my girl, you’re a miracle worker per usual.”

They both offered Shanta their thanks, Michael rolling his shoulders before heading out the door to walk out to the gardens.

He had met and interviewed with Oprah once before so he was not particularly nervous. But despite having done millions of interviews, there was always a kernel of nerves right beforehand that he could just never shake.

He was dressed in slacks and a light black sweater, thankful for a cooler day as he walked out into her expansive gardens where the Oprah Winfrey waited for him. The cameras were already rolling, capturing footage that may or may not make into the hour-long special.

“The man of the hour!” she called, her arms stretched wide to wrap Michael in a hug. “Actually I think man of the year is more appropriate. Welcome. I can’t tell you how excited I am to have you here.”

“Thank you, thank you. It’s so good to be here.”

“Have a seat,” she gestured at the very comfy chair across from hers. “And we can jump right in.”

***

Raven’s head was propped against her fist as she stared at her computer. A sentence. That was the grand total of her hard work for that Wednesday afternoon. But it was something, she supposed. Weeks of hard work had amounted to maybe two or three pages of her book. She had been offering Angelina vague answers on her progress, ducking and dodging her to avoid admitting that there was no way in hell she could have a draft by March 15 like they talked about.

“Rae? You busy?”

She turned in her chair toward the door to find Tiffany’s head poking in.

“Nope… I’ll never be busy again at this rate,” she grumbled. “What’s up?”

“I just turned on the interview… if you want to watch?”

Raven scratched her head, unsure if she could even watch him? See him happy and thriving without her? Despite everything happening between them though, she could not pretend there was not a part of her that still wanted to celebrate this moment in his career. Interviewing with Oprah the week he was poised to win his first Oscar? How could she ever forgive herself if she did not watch this? Even if it hurts?

“I’ll… be there in a sec. Thanks, Tiff.”

Raven let out a deep sigh before she grabbed the blanket off her bed and dragged herself to the living room. The interview had already started and he looked gorgeous. Tired, she could tell, in the way he constantly had to readjust his posture, in the bags under his eyes that the makeup artist could not quite fully cover. But even at his worst, he looked captivatingly good.

Raven found herself studying him so intently that she did not even comprehend the words he and Oprah were sharing. She just watched him and his mannerisms, she focused on the glimmer in his eyes that sparked every so often. She missed looking into his eyes, missed how expressive they were.

This moment only amplified how much she missed him, missed hearing the deep baritone in his voice and the spark in his eyes when he spoke about his passions. She missed his bright and uninhibited laughter, how his hands were always on her in some way. She just missed him. But she had pushed him away, had told him to let her go. And even if he had not fully let go of her yet, she felt too scared to open that door again, even if her soul ached for her to. Particularly when he continued to try to show up for her in small ways.

And despite how angry she still wanted to be at him, she had never had anyone show up for her quite like this… try for her like he did. And everyday, her brain took up far more mental space than it should have, debating whether she should follow her foolish heart and forgive him or listen to her logical brain and cast him aside. Days passed and she still did not know the answer.

“So I’ll admit,” Raven’s ears finally started to pick up the conversation between Oprah and Michael, “I watched Waves more times than appropriate. But Gayle and I saw it at Sundance and we both thought it was just the most heartbreaking and poignant look at loss and grief that we had ever seen. While still being engaging and funny and so relatable. The journey your character goes through is just… I mean I think grief is one of the few universal experiences that we all will have at some point. And you really brought that to life through this character and his struggles with addiction. And the fact that you filmed this while engaged in completely different projects with complex characters like Killmonger in Black Panther and Adonis in Creed 3… I’m curious what you pulled from to give that performance?”

Michael shifted in his seat as he chuckled, Raven had missed how passionate he got about this project, even though he had been talking about it and doing press for it since they first started dating. She knew he had not truly expected the role to blow up in the ways it did but she could tell he was grateful for it, nonetheless.

“Well first, thank you. Yea aside from Oscar Grant, Andre was the hardest character I’ve ever played and he stretched me as an actor in ways, you know, I didn’t really expect? And I learned so much from him in his sort of journey through grief. You know, when I read the first script, the line ‘grief is the final stage in love’s evolution,’ really stuck out to me. When you lose someone, grief, this enduring pain you feel, is that love shifting and changing because it has nowhere to go, there’s no outlet for it anymore. And so, Andre really reframed my own thoughts on grief and loss and how I process that and allowed me to pull from personal experiences with loss to pour into that character.”

“Yea I will say, that line was one of my favorites. I sat with that long after the credits rolled.”

“Yea same. I remember sitting a-and thinking about that one for a while after reading it. And I loved that even in the more comedic moments of this movie, we still had those lines that made you wanna stop and really sit with what the characters were going through.”

“Definitely, I was dissecting this movie for weeks after. It’s just amazing. So I do want to shift gears to talk about this moment you're experiencing because of this movie. This really is the biggest moment of your career. You’re nominated for your first Oscar and a favorite to win, so far in 2023, you’ve won a SAG Award, Golden Globe, and BAFTA. And you, as of two days ago, just had your directorial debut in Creed 3. First question, how are you still awake?” Both of them shared a laugh. “But serious question, how has this moment felt? How does it feel to be having this moment at this stage of your career?”

“Oh wow, when you list it like that, I don’t know how I’m awake either,” he chuckled. “But seriously, you know… it’s been a ride. I know you’ve felt this too but you know, you don’t often take a moment to just pause and soak it in. You finish one interview or award show and your mind automatically just jumps to the next one. And I think what I’ve been trying to force myself to do in the later weeks of this insane time is just to slow down and enjoy it. Not rush through it and really enjoy the fruits of… really years of hard work and sacrifice. But that also means sitting with… you know, the challenges of this time too, which isn’t as rewarding,” he admitted with a sad smile. “But I’m growing and learning alot so it’s worth it.”

Oprah nodded. “You know I always appreciate when people don’t let the 24 hour news cycle and gossip sort of steal their thunder and moment from them. And I applaud you for sort of moving through the more gossipy side of the last few months with grace and maturity. But you haven’t really talked much publicly about those stories and the effect they have had on you. And you don’t have to get into it if you don’t want but I am curious on how you navigated that and really came out on the other side, from what I can see, stronger for it?”

Michael bowed his head and chuckled. “Um… you know a good friend of mine told me that she thought this was the most vulnerable and most genuine I had ever been publicly on this press tour and I think it’s because I’ve had to navigate some really personal stuff during this great but hectic public moment? And that’s new territory for me.”

“And I think that friend is right. I don’t think we have seen or learned this much about you ever.”

“Yea and I wish I could take some credit for it but… it was all one person: Raven Turner. And the way we met, now as the world knows, was extremely unconventional and I can admit that our relationship started as a complete lie. A lie I thought would help me be seen as this serious, mature man my team was worried I wasn’t. And I wasn’t,” he admitted. “I was cold and guarded and not at all the best version of myself. And while I regret how we started and trying to fool the world into thinking I’m something I’m not, there isn’t a bone in my body that regrets falling in love with her.”

He leaned forward a bit as he spoke. “Because all those walls and barriers we build around ourselves to survive in this world of Hollywood? To endure the criticisms and insanity we deal with? She's the first woman to see me. Not the actor and the money and the fame but just me. And in that, she saved me… without trying or intending to. She just loved me and loving her, choosing her is the single greatest decision I ever made. And I hate how this moment has fallen on her, how my terrible decisions led to these pretty disgusting misogynistic attacks on her. And I think my biggest regret is putting someone as pure as her in the line of fire like that and not doing enough to protect her. And you know, I have to live with that, which is tough.”

“You know I’ve interviewed thousands of people in my career and while I believe you have to change for yourself and on your own, I also have found that the ones who love us, really love us, are often the most powerful catalysts for change in our lives. I’ve certainly seen and experienced that in my own life and it’s important to spotlight those who were that catalyst.”

“Oh 100%. Especially when, I think this version of me was always there? I was just too hurt to trust anyone with it, so no one saw it. I buried me under this facade I thought was better? But I fell in love with a woman who taught me that you can’t be guarded, you can’t shut down just because you’re hurt. Life is about getting up every day, being authentically you, and reaching out and loving and risking your heart every time. And sometimes you’ll get swatted away and sometimes you’ll get an embrace. But you just deny yourself love when you don’t show up at all. So I’ve been trying to live by that more lately. Because she showed me what real strength and courage looks like. And I want to have that, I want to lead with that.”

“Wow… you know people are going to watch this and I think, applaud that vulnerability. It’s refreshing to me because I don’t think our world incentivizes or encourages people to admit when they aren’t being their best selves. So I think for you to do that, at a moment when you’re at the top of your game, is commendable.”

“She deserves to know the positive effect she’s had on my life. To be celebrated for how she supported me. And you know it’s not just me? When we first started dating, I remember her one stipulation was that we couldn’t go out on Wednesday evenings because she hosted a book club for kids at the library she worked at. And that was the most important thing to her, being there for them. The day of our first date, she spent an hour delivering books and SAT prep books to those same kids she worked just because. There’s just a selflessness to her that is truly admirable. And I think while people are attacking her and calling her these vile names because she made a certain choice during a hard time, they should know who she really is. A woman that would drop everything to help you even when you don’t really deserve it. A woman who I’ve seen give others all she had because they needed it more even when she did not have a backup plan for herself. I could honestly talk about her for the rest of this interview because she deserves celebration far more than I ever could. Genuinely good people don’t always get the shine they deserve, they don’t always get the love and care they deserve because we can often take them for granted. But no one deserves to be celebrated more than her, to be celebrated loudly more than she does.”

“I love that… she seems like quite the woman.”

“She is… and I hope she knows that.”

“So tell me about…”

The words faded away as his words tumbled through Raven’s head. They clashed jarringly against every belief she had internalized about herself, like metal against metal. But she found herself wanting to believe him. Believe the words a section of the world just heard. She wanted to believe that what he saw in her, even over the course of six months, was who she truly was. Not this broken, damaged scapegoat life had fashioned her into.

There has to be more than this, right?

Tiffany nudged her with a box of tissues in her hand. Raven had not even realized she was crying but she accepted them gratefully.

“Don’t know how I still have tears over this man left,” she whispered as she wiped her eyes.

“I don’t think those tears are because of him, sis.”

Raven sniffled and grabbed another tissue. “You m-might be onto something. I can’t watch anymore. Night, Tiffany.”

However, before she reached her bedroom, she heard Tiffany call her name.

“I know what he did… sucks. And hurts. But that’s a man who loves you, Rae. More than anything. After that? The only person in the world who still won’t believe it is you.”

She turned around to face her, the back of her hand wiping away a few more stray tears. “You know he said the same thing?”

“Well, I generally don’t think actors are that smart,” Tiffany admitted with a laugh. “But he’s right about that. You deserve to believe good things about yourself, we all do.”

“Nothing good has ever lasted… I always ruin it somehow. I tried to believe I deserved him and life proved that I didn’t,” she answered, her voice small. “D-Don’t have it in me to try again.”

“Raven… I know we aren’t best friends or anything. But how many times have I watched you forgiven your dad and sister? Let them back in, try to make things right with them? Try to build the family you want?”

“Too many…”

“Right… So why does Michael only get one shot when you found the strength to give them 100? When he’s the one actually showing up for you? He’s the one who actually is trying to earn another chance?”

“It’s not that simple and you know it.”

“I know that the only person denying you happiness right now… is you. You push away the good people and things in your life because you feel like you don’t deserve it but no one would be here if you didn’t. Michael, the kids in your book club… me. I don’t keep signing leases with you because you’re a terrible person who ruins everything, no one has a gun to our heads, Rae. We’re here because you do deserve it.”

“Tiff…”

“Nope, shut up. This pity party is getting old and tired. It doesn’t matter what I think of you… or what Michael thinks or anyone out there.” She gestured toward the window. “All that matters is the narrative you’ve created and until you decide to believe something else, all you’re going to do is push people away and fuck up and self sabotage because it’s all you think you deserve. You gotta wake up and do some fucking work, girl. Cause until you figure out how to erase this narrative from your brain, you’ll never be happy. And you’ll never fall in love with anyone except for someone who treats you like crap. You’ll never build your own family. You’ll never finish your book or have another fulfilling career. You’ll just be stuck in this broken version of yourself alone… forever. And I’ve seen a few different versions of you over the last two years but this is by far the most pitiful.”

Raven had never heard Tiffany be so blunt. The words were biting but she could not deny that some of them rang true in her ears. And that was always the hardest information to hear.

“Damn… tell me how you really feel.”

“The soft gentle love wasn’t resonating clearly so had to go with a different tactic…. Just think about it. And once you fix all this shit and move to a mansion in the hills, don’t forget about me.” She winked at her, causing Raven’s jaw to drop slightly.

“How do you even know that’s gonna happen?”

She shrugged and grabbed the remote to press play, Raven not even noticing that she paused it.

“Just got a good feeling about the two of you. Now go so I can lust after him in peace while he's still single. Kidding! Kinda..."

Raven let out a small laugh as she shook her head. "I know you're not kidding. Night, Tiff.”

She slid into her bed, her only refuge of late, and stared at the ceiling. She was surprised she was not tired of looking at it by now. Michael and Tiffany’s words wrestled with her own thoughts for hours

What was her problem, really? It was not that what Michael did was unforgivable because it wasn’t. Some distant part of her, too quiet to break through the noise of her anger, always wondered if there was more to the story, believed that he had to have had some reason. But she was too angry to allow him to explain. It just became vicious ammunition that no one could ever love her or care about her… that she was the problem.

Well, that’s true… no one’s ever loved you. And everyone who does leaves.

She supposed her mother must have loved her, but she would never know. She would never feel it. And her grandmother’s love was so distant, so long ago, that it no longer felt tangible, was no longer a tether to anchor her self worth to something positive.

Instead, the only thing that tethered her sense of self worth to anything was her family’s disdain. Disdain that made her question what Michael could’ve seen in her, how he could ever love someone like her? That disdain which made it far easier to believe that what he did was proof that he did not love her than that he possibly did do it to protect her in some weird way. No other thought could live long enough in her brain to take hold.

And she did not know if doing what Tiffany suggested would fix that. There was not enough time in the world for her muster the courage to interrogate and confront the source of these feelings. She had hoped she would never have to see her family again. Some days, never felt like too soon.

But she knew she could not avoid it. They were the root cause, the narrative in her head was fueled and sustained by them. And screaming at them across the Thanksgiving table and never speaking to them again was not the closure she needed. She thought she had dropped the weight that was her family when she cut them off. But she was still dragging all the luggage they gave her around and it was time to give it back.

She knew her family did not want to see her either, knew it would be difficult to get them to even speak to her after everything. But she knew she had to try… because she knew there had to be more to life than this. That she had not been born to only suffer through life instead of live it. So she needed to confront her demons for herself, even if her relationship with them did not change one bit.

She grabbed her computer and her wallet. It was time to go home.

***

Raven’s eyes remained trained on her dad’s house across the street as she sat in her rental car. She was almost shocked that none of her family’s nosy neighbors had not called the police yet as she sat there for nearly an hour, summoning the courage to actually go inside.

She had felt so sure this was what she needed when she bought her plane ticket. And that confidence did not waver when she stepped onto the plane or during the long journey from LAX to Charlotte, NC. However, once she was in her rental car, she found herself waffling, aimlessly driving around for hours. Her brain seemed unable to direct her to the place she knew she needed to go. Home.

She just could not make herself do it… not yet anyway. So she did not. Instead, she finally went to her hotel to try to get some rest and her night’s rest turned into the entire Friday holed up in her hotel. She had not booked a return ticket, prayerful and hopeful that there would be a reason to stick around for a few days. But that also meant she did not have the incentive of time to make her move faster.

But she could not even make herself do this. Because she did not know how to be brave like this. Her life had been nothing but running from pain and confrontation. This was so contrary to that. She did not know how to do any of this. She tossed and turned all night, unable to get any sleep particularly when there was only one person who she wanted to talk to, wanted to seek courage and strength from. Because when she felt scared, when she did not feel strong, he was the only person she wanted to reach for. But she was not sure he would even answer. She had pushed him away, told him she needed space.

But she had not felt like she could do this alone. So last night, she called him.

“Rae! Everything ok?” he asked immediately, his question met with silence.

Raven did not know what to say and regret filled her like ice water in her veins. But she knew it was too late to hang up, she had to see it through. She paid for that moment of weakness when she hit the call button as her throat closed at the sound of her voice. She found it impossible to speak, even if she knew what words to say.

“I’ll wait until you’re ready, Rae. Got all night for you.”

And she knew he was not just talking about waiting for her to speak.

“Why?” she whispered, the simple word coming out in a strangled sound as she tried to push past the tightness in her throat.

“Why what?”

“Why even answer after everything I said to you? W-why do you keep trying?”

“Because I love you,” he answered simply. “And you’re worth it. I’ll keep reaching out, baby girl. Even when you swat me away.”

“You might be the only person who thinks that,” she whispered back as a tear fell.

“I don’t think that’s true. But even if it was, knowing one person is in your corner is all you need sometimes.”

She laughed lightly. “That press tour got you only speaking in motivational boxing terms or something?”

His deep laughter filled her ears and filled her soul with such joy that she had forgotten. She had forgotten what these moments felt like, the two of them on the phone or curled up together in bed, just talking. She missed it… she missed him. But she could not say it, could not bring herself to pull her body out of the water to make that long trek back up the cliff to where he waited for her. Everything in her brain screamed at her that she couldn’t do it, that she did not have it in her. And she hated herself for it. Hated how she clung to the ice barriers around her heart, even though they were utterly fractured and ready to fall. She just was not ready yet.

She let out a shuddering breath as she hastily wiped away her falling tears. “I… don’t know why I called. I s-shouldn’t have called.”

“Call me anytime, Rae. I’ll always answer. I’ll always show up for you. I hope you know that… at least.”

“Y-Yea… I think I do… or at least, it’s getting harder to deny it,” she revealed. “Your interview with Oprah… it was really good,” she offered lamely.

“You watched??” she could hear the surprise in his voice.

“Yea… I almost didn’t,” she admitted. “But I caught most of it. Did you mean it? Everything you said?”

“Every single word.” There was no arguing with the definitive tone in his voice. “I get that you don’t trust me anymore. I lied and kept secrets. But one thing I never lied about is how much I love you.”

Her eyes clenched shut for a moment. That was one thing he had always been consistent about, her ears had just been perpetually shut to it.

“I… um… I gotta go. Early day tomorrow,” she lied as she sniffled. “I’m sorry for bothering you. Bye, Michael.”

She was not sure what she had expected to get from that call and, at first, it felt as if she only got a firm kick in the heart for it. But for the first time since she landed, Raven had enough strength to finally drive to her family’s house. She had rolled her eyes at his boxing motivational quotes but hearing someone say they were in her corner, that had given her courage. To just feel like someone was behind her, even if she was alone, that meant something to her.

She took a deep breath and got out of her car, forcing her legs to carry her to the front door.

Her rounds of knocks went unanswered, Raven getting slightly frustrated but determined not to leave the porch. If she turned around and walked away, she’d never come back.

After an extremely brief internal debate, she decided to simply let herself in, deciding that since she contributed to the mortgage, she had a right to come in as she pleased. And her father still, foolishly, kept a spare key underneath the welcome mat.

Though she had not been to her family’s home in two years or so, it still looked the same. Her father’s favorite work boots were thrown haphazardly at the door, several pairs of her sister’s shoes lined up next to them. She was an utter mess but she was, at least, somewhat neat. And it still felt… cold. And it had nothing to do with the cold winter east coast weather. The house had always felt like that, void of warmth and love that made a home a home.

“Kiara?” she called out. “Dad?” However, she was met with utter silence.

Part of her supposed she was thankful they were not home and that they had not just ignored her or something. She stood in the living room, staring around the room at the pictures that lined the walls and shelves. So many of her mom, her dad, and Kiara but there were none of her. That was not a surprise, it had always been that way. But that did not make it sting any less. All they had ever wanted was to erase her from their lives and if a stranger walked into this house, it would be as if she never existed.

She started up the stairs, her eyes refusing to linger long on any of the photos there. They were all lies anyway, a picture perfect family that did not exist because she had been born. She decided to ascend to the attic once she made it upstairs. Because that was where all her grandmother’s and some of her own things now lived. She had never really gone through her grandmother’s things after she passed, no one aside from her dad to pack them up. But she knew there was so much of their lives, so many memories she had forgotten of the one person who loved her, forgotten in those boxes that she now desperately needed to remember.

She ignored how narrow the opening to the attic was, realizing that it had been easier to maneuver up here when she was a young teenager. Everything was still neatly packed away as if her grandmother would be back one day to pick it up.

She started to open each box, pulling out and examining her grandmother’s things, so many beautiful things forgotten in this attic no one went into. For the first time in nearly two decades, she felt close to the only maternal figure she had ever had, felt like her grandmother’s hand was on her shoulder as she reminisced on their short but well-lived time together.

She found the old costume jewelry her grandmother used to let her play with, laughing to herself as she thought back to dressing up in front of her vanity mirror pretending to be a model or whatever silly idea the pair had thought up. She almost cried as she found a very crumpled piece of paper with the last story she gave her grandmother to read before she died, a random short story that she had written for class. She had not realized, as she found a folder, just how many of her stories her grandmother had kept.

A gold glint caught her attention, Raven reaching into a giant box to find a shoe box. Raven had seen that box 100 times but her grandmother had never let her touch it, claiming that it held priceless family heirlooms that she did not want Raven or Kiara to mess up. Raven rolled her eyes that something her grandmother had valued so much had been discarded and forgotten haphazardly at the bottom of this box.

Finally giving into her childhood curiosity, she opened it. It was still filled with things, part of her thankful that Kiara had never found it. The jewelry and pieces in it were gorgeous and indeed priceless. She took her time as she examined each one, wondering if they had belonged to her mother or her grandmother or some other relative she never met. However, it was what existed underneath the jewelry that caught her eye: piles of tied up envelopes, one with her name on it and one with Kiara’s.

The handwriting was not her grandmother’s, which made Raven even more curious.

She pulled out the stack with her name on it and undid the thin ribbon that tied them together. There were ten letters there in total, each one with a different note scribbled on the envelope.

To Raven on your 18th birthday

To Raven on high school graduation

To Raven after your first love

To Raven after your first heartbreak

To Raven on college graduation

To Raven on your wedding day

She only had to flip through a few of them to realize who they were from. Her mom.

“You’re killing me,” she muttered to the sky, unsure if she was speaking to God, her grandmother, her mother or all three.

Her hands trembled slightly as she ripped open the one on top, addressed to her on her 18th birthday. These were some of the only words her mother would get to say to her, she did not care how long ago she should have read it. She would savor each one.

To my sweet darling girl,

If you are reading this, it means that I am not physically there with you on your birthday. It means that I’ve missed 18 birthdays and too many milestones to write a letter for and for that, I am sorry. You might be wondering why there is not a letter for all those milestones and birthdays that have taken place but this felt like the best place to start and the appropriate age for reading the musings of a dying woman. If there’s even such a thing.

We learned your gender today. Another sweet girl. If the doctor somehow got it wrong, these letters will be incredibly awkward. But I know they are right. Because you, my darling girl, are the manifestation of my wildest dreams. I dreamed of you almost a year ago, this beautiful girl with half my face but all of my spirit and personality. And every night since then, I prayed, begged God to make that dream a reality… no matter the cost. And he did.

I know my body is not strong enough to be your mother, to be around to be the mother someone as brilliant as you will deserve. But I hope you know that deciding to have you and keep you, regardless of the risks, is the single greatest decision I ever made. You were not an accident or a misfortune given to me. You are my dreams. And if my last moments on this earth are spent looking at you, it will have been worth it.

I waited until 18 to start these letters because I worried a child could never understand the choice I made. And you may still not. And if you resent me for leaving you before you could know me, I understand that too. But I hope that through these letters, you will get to know me. And you will feel some semblance of the immense love I have for you.

I don’t have much advice because you’ve likely heard it all at this point. But the two most important things I can tell you, that I wish someone had told 18 year old me, is to know that failure is part of the journey. Your grandmother used to always tell me to keep reaching out your hand even if it doesn’t work. I didn’t really understand it soon enough but I hope you do. Life is about risks and if you don’t reach out your hand out of fear, you’ll protect yourself from pain but you will also miss out on the gifts God is trying to hand you. As a daughter, I hated to admit it, but mama was right about that… and so many other things.

And finally, more importantly than anything else I could offer you in these letters, please remember every day that you are so, so loved.

Know that regardless of what happened to me, I loved you with every fiber of my being until my last breath. Know that you were a gift from God. And every day you venture out into this world, know that you are worthy of so much because you were so loved from the moment you were dreamed up. Do not let anyone or whatever will happen to you in what I pray is a long, rich, happy life diminish that light, diminish your worth. I know how special you are and I don’t even know your name yet. And while I hope that your father and grandmother will affirm you daily, you don’t need other people to tell you that you are special. You have to know it for yourself. That’s the most important advice I can give you. Know who you are and your worth and take up as much space in this world as you want. And as long as you never forget how special you are… how deserving you are, you’ll move through this world shining bright. And the world will be forced to know it too and move to give you what you deserve. It’s not much and a bit cliche perhaps but I’ve been torn down enough to know that sometimes we all need the reminder. But those are stories for another letter.

By the time I write my next letter, I promise I will have picked out a name for you. I read a book the other day where the main character was named Raven… I had not thought of it before but I like it.

Happy Birthday.

Love,

Mom

The river of tears streaming down Raven’s face splashed against the slanted handwriting on the page, Raven quickly whisking them away so the words would remain legible. Raven did not even know how long she sat there staring at the words on the page, her heart bursting with the knowledge that her mother’s hand had touched this very paper, that she had poured her heart and soul into every word etched into it.

It was like proof she had been real and not this entity Raven had conjured up in her head. Raven could not stop herself from ripping open all the ones that she should have gotten along the way. The one for her first love and the separate one on heartbreak were four pages each, and Raven did not pay attention to the clock as she absorbed each and every word.

Everything she had learned about her mother had been through her grandmother and she had always wondered if her grandmother told her things just to make her feel better. But she realized that her grandmother had been telling the truth, she and her mother were so much alike. She found herself nodding and laughing along to her mother’s stories and wisdom embedded in all those pages. She was a prolific storyteller too and an amazing writer, another trait Raven realized she must have inherited from her.

For the first time in 30 years, Raven did not feel weighed down by this unbearable guilt. She felt lighter than she had ever been in her entire life. Perhaps this was what God wanted her to find here, not a confrontation with her family, but these words. This tangible proof that her mother had chosen her, wanted her… loved her and that she had not ruined anything at all.

Her mother would not have wanted her to carry such guilt around for so long because there was nothing to be guilty about.

The letters were scattered across the attic floor when she heard the faint sound of their garage opening. She quickly folded up all of her letters and stuffed them back into the box, tucking it under her arm as she climbed out of the attic. She did not make much noise as she closed up the attic, just as she heard her father and sister close the garage door and enter the kitchen.

Their voices drifted up to her ears as she started to climb down the stairs, deciding that she might as well get the pure unpleasantness of this moment over with.

“Wait… you hear that? Is someone in the house??” she heard her sister ask, knowing that they both could hear her footsteps against the old floorboards.

“Don’t get your gun,” she called out as she started down the stairs. “It’s just me.”

She was greeted with less-than-welcoming expressions from her family, such disdain that it made her want to scurry away. But she did not. She had done enough of that in her life.

“Adding breaking and entering to your criminal activity, now?”

Raven scoffed as she placed the box on the kitchen counter that stood between her and her family.

“Don’t think you can break into a house you helped pay for?” she answered coolly. “And I’m not the one with a mug shot here if I remember correctly.”

“No you’re just the one who sold her cheap ass for a quick buck.”

Raven shook her head, opening and closing her mouth for a few moments as she tried to find the words.

“Yea I did… And I’m not proud of it,” Raven admitted. “But I won’t let you or anyone shame me for doing what I needed to do to survive. What helped the two of you survive too.” Raven scratched her head, realizing that trying to get closure from her family was unnecessary. Her mother’s words had given her all the closure she had ever needed. That’s what she had come home for.

“You know, I got a plane ready to rip you both a new one for 30 years of abuse and torture. To try to force you to admit that I’m not the villain you made me to be. But… I don’t need that anymore. Because the cross of guilt and shame you two forced onto my back for all these years isn’t one I should have to carry. But I did because I thought it was the only way to keep you two around. And even without you two in my life, I still drag that cross around because I thought I deserved it. But I realized today, way too late, that I don’t need a damn thing from either of you to put it down.”

“So you came here to what? To chastise us and steal?” her father asked, gesturing toward the box on the counter.

“You can’t steal things that belong to you. These are letters mom wrote to me,” she lifted the open letters out before sliding the unopened pile to her sister. “And to you.”

“Your mother wrote these?” he asked, his jaw tensing as he looked down at the stack.

“Yeah, she did. You’ll enjoy yours… she was a really good storyteller,” she glanced at Kiara. “These letters just told me something I should’ve realized long before Thanksgiving. That cross? That guilt? It isn’t mine. And I am done wasting my life trying to rectify the mistake of being born. Because it wasn’t a mistake. She chose me… prayed for a second daughter knowing the cost and she decided it was worth it. And hearing her say that? That’s all I need to know that I deserve so much more than this… so much more than you.” She took a deep breath. “Being a grieving husband isn’t an excuse to be a terrible father and I’ll just be grateful I found some way to survive you and this. And jealousy doesn’t give you the right to be a shitty sister.”

“What the fuck do I have to be jealous of??”

“I always wondered that. But reading those letters… I finally got it. Because even as a failed author and prostitute, I’m everything she was. Grandma used to always say I had her personality… her talent. I always thought she was lying to make me feel better. But you knew she wasn’t and you could never stand it. Couldn’t stand that I was more like her than you.” For the first time, her sister was speechless. A good look on her in Raven’s opinion. “Mom wanted so much better for me than this and I’m gonna go and find it. Because I’ve wasted too much energy trying to earn the love of people who don’t deserve it. So if you want to go to your graves hating me, making me the scapegoat for every problem in your miserable lives, have at it. But know that I don’t hate you even after all this. I won’t be weighed down anymore by any feelings toward either of you ever again. You aren’t worth it.”

Raven pulled herself to full height and rolled her shoulder back as she scooped up the box and folder she had taken from her grandmother’s stuff.

“Now I’m gonna go and have that long… rich and happy life mom wanted for me. And I hope you two do the same.”

She did not look behind her as she walked away, a soft smile on her face as she walked out of her family’s house for the last time.

She let out a long laugh as she sat in her car, so much of the weight she had been carrying around gone. It did not feel sad like when she cut off her family at Thanksgiving. She finally felt as if she had cut the anchor away and she could float away, she could move forward and heal all the broken pieces of herself that they had gleefully chipped away at.

When she got back to her hotel room, she just kept rereading her mom’s words. She would memorize each letter at this point. A part of her desperately wanted to open the other ones but she had not reached those milestones just yet so she left them where they were. For some reason, she worried her mother would disapprove of her breaking into them early.

One line of five letters she read and reread stuck to her bones above all else. And of course, as if her mother had known, it was embedded in the letter for her first love. Love… the thing that had cracked her wide open and brought her to this moment in the first place.

You’d be surprised to know that this was the hardest of the letters to write. Because everyone has some prolific idea of what love is and feels like. And I realized I don’t… because I don’t think I’ve ever experienced the love I pray you are as you read this. That’s not to say I don’t love your father, I do. But I want something different than convenience for you. I hope that the love you feel is safe, allows you to feel the full spectrum of what it means to be human - strong and vulnerable, insecure and confident, boisterous and timid. I hope it feels like stepping out of the cold air and into a warm embrace. I hope it is loud and unapologetic because you deserve nothing less. And I hope it makes you feel so enraptured that everything else in the world goes quiet. And lastly, I hope, more than anything, that it feels like home. That when you’re in this person’s embrace, you feel as if your soul finally landed right where it is supposed to be.

Her eyes scanned that passage over and over again, realizing that she had found the exact love her mother described. She had come back here thinking she was coming home. But this wasn’t home at all. Home was where he was. And he was back in LA, about to prepare for the biggest night of his life in 24 hours. And regardless of whatever trust needed to be rebuilt and conversations needed to be had, she could not allow herself to miss it. She could not allow herself to not show up for him.

Raven scrambled to find her phone as it was hidden beneath sheets of paper. She scrolled through, praying she had not deleted a long forgotten group thread that housed one number she had once thought she would never need but now was the most important phone number in the world.

She almost shouted praises to God when she found it, clicking the call button on the unsaved number. She paced up and down beside her bed as every agonizing ring dragged on.

“Didn’t think I’d see your name pop up on my phone ever again.”

Raven let out a sigh of relief as her voice filled her ears. “I know… me either. But I need a favor.”

“Does it involve a certain award show tomorrow night?”

“Yes. Is it too late?”

“Yea it is.” she knew Alex could hear the tiny sigh of sadness she let out. “For anyone but me. I’ve earned enough favors around here to create a miracle or two.”

“Really?? Cause I need like more than one or two miracles… a dress, hair, makeup… hell a flight from Charlotte to make it back in time. Without him knowing?”

“Consider all of it done. Hope you don’t mind getting up at the ass crack of dawn though.” Alex asked, Raven hearing the smile in her tone.

“For him… I’ll get up anytime.”

“Good. Then I'll take care of everything... I'll have to tell his mom but she'll love this. And probably be happy as hell that she doesn't have to go anymore. I'll text you details in an hour."

"An hour?? That's all you need??"

"You're new here so I'm gonna choose to not be offended by that."

"Noted." She was about to hang up when she stopped herself. “Hey… Alex? Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. Seriously. Just make sure your ass is on that plane and in LAX tomorrow when Allen picks you up, got it?”

Raven chuckled. “Yea I got it. See you tomorrow.”

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***

A/N: So now will y'all stop yelling at me LOLOL our good sis is going back to her man! We love to see it! How surprised do we think Michael's going to be? Part 11.2 will be the Oscars! Drop a comment and let me know what you thought! And as always, thanks for reading!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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